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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

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Villainsicle - Part 14

Thanks to everyone for all the comments on the last part, and especially to @the-polari-person for the memes they made. Everyone really wants to punch Medic, and I think this part will reinforce that. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Whumpee liking whumper, pet whump, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, orders, implied past torture, mentions of death, mentions of execution, arguing, conspiracy

Traitor ran their fingers affectionately through Villain’s hair.

“An Asset can be far greater than any weapon you may have ever yielded in the past. I am sure you have all heard of the incident suffered by our late former Asset Coordinator, but any equipment can malfunction.

I assure you, the risk is worth it. May they rest in peace. But, a well-trained Asset is just as dangerous as a well-maintained gun. With the right care, it will only harm those who must be harmed.”

The somewhat sorrowful expression that had begun to show through disappeared, replaced by a sharp smirk.

“But words can only do so much. Demonstration is much better. Cadet!”

Villain drew back, nodding firmly their acknowledgement. There was a notable strangeness to their gait, a refusal to put weight on their leg.

“Circumspicio.”

Another firm nod, before they closed their eyes. For a few moments, tense and quiet as they were, their hair rose about their head, writhing like an inferno of serpents. When they at last opened their eyes, their hair did not calm.

“Eight soldier on deck, move left. Two plane on deck. Most soldier sleeping, in dorm. Supervillain talk to Department Head. Assets in kennel.”

“Where is Ali Silica?”

“Ali Silica, in kitchen, drink water.”

“Maximilian Kesim.”

“Maximilian Kesim, in dorm. Sleep.”

“Ella Jacklin.”

“Ella Jacklin, on deck. Has weapon. Guard door 24.”

“Good.” Traitor’s gaze returned to stare forth. “My Asset may not be particularly useful in situations of combat, but it is invaluable for recon and scouting. They can see through our cameras, our computers, all of it. And in an enemy base? Every enemy movement can be mapped. I can’t count how many times it has saved my life.

It is the most valuable Asset we have. Usually, we would not be doing something like this. But, my Asset is currently off duty due to an injury. And thus, welcome to the course.”

Again, they laid their hand atop Villain’s head.

They smiled.

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Villain looked at the camera.

That was all Counselor could look at, all they could notice. The other action on screen was immediately rendered irrelevant to them.

No. They could only see those eyes.

The same eyes they’d spent the last weeks gazing back at, in person and picture alike. At the very least, they were the same eyes, on the same person. In every physical sense, Villain was the same.

But...

They were happy. Maybe they weren’t, maybe it was just a trick of the light... But, no, no matter how Counselor squinted, what they told themself, they could not ignore that fact. Villain’s eyes glimmered with contentment, pressing their head into Traitor’s hand, who stroked their hair affectionately.

There was nothing fake, nothing practiced, about that warmth. It was just as real as the sorrowful or fearful expressions that Counselor had seen on Villain’s face so often. The only ones they ever seemed to show.

They were happy. Why were they happy? Ordered about, spoken about like an object... And why were they talking like that? They were generally rather quiet, but they never seemed to struggle with their speech.

It wasn’t until Hero spoke up that Counselor realized their mouth had been hanging ajar.

“I...”

Hero was at just as much of a loss for words as they were.

“I don’t know.” Counselor shook their head, frowning. “P-Pause it. Please. I don’t want to see it.”

They did so.

For a long, tense moment, the two sat there, one in the computer chair, the other with their legs dangling off the bed. It was Counselor, who managed to clear their throat first.

“Where did you get this?”

“The flashdrive?”

“Mhm.”

“Leader. Leader gave it to me.”

“Leader?”

“I didn’t... I don’t know. I guess it makes sense?”

“It does, but...” Counselor gripped a clump of blanket in their fist, knuckles quickly turning white. “I, Hero, what the fuck! I don’t know what I expected. Some sort of backstory, certainly, but... What did Traitor do to them?”

It wasn’t the type of explosive tone that they often took, but they couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but release the furious flame burning in their chest, its smoke scratching their throat.

“I don’t know.” Hero shook their head. “What is the, the Asset program? That wasn’t a thing when we worked for them, was it?”

“No. No, I don’t think so. I certainly never heard of it.”

“Me neither.”

“You think...”

“Do I think that’s why Leader looks like they’re about to faint whenever you so much as mention Villain? Absolutely! You’d think they would have told us.”

“I- I guess. What is there even to say? What was that even about?”

“It certainly wasn’t meant for an uninformed audience. Something about... training? Training assets?”

“That’s what Villain was, weren’t they? An... Asset.”

“I think so. A... A forced soldier. Traitor was treating they like a fucking dog.”

“Yeah.” Hero nodded.

“And...”

“An incident. What were they saying about an incident?”

“Someone died. The way they were talking about it, I think. Someone died. Whoever tried to make videos about this beforehand? An... Asset Coordinator?”

“That’s certainly what it sounded like.”

Counselor tried to release the grip they held on the blanket, but found themself unable. Tension and fury kept their muscles clenched, blood pounding their ears, even as they did little more than sit.

“Were they ever really a villain at all?” They finally whispered. “In the video, it was all orders. They were just following orders. We’ve been treating them like a villain this whole time, but-”

“I think we need to see more.” Hero interrupted. “We need to- We need to know. How long until this flashdrive mysteriously goes missing?”

“I don’t know.” Counselor bit the inside of their cheek. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to-”

“You really should. We should.”

“I know. I know. But I need to see Villain.”

“Oh.”

“You watch, okay? I’m going to talk to them.”

“About... it?”

“Yeah.” They nodded, before frowning, their gaze becoming downcast. “How long until they mysteriously go missing?”

“Fair enough.”

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“Are you hungry?”

The Asset- no, dammit, Villain looked up as Counselor entered the hospital room. The thoughts, the words of the video refused to stop swirling in their mind, twisting even their inner monologue, now.

The blankets on their bed were turned and tossed about-- either they had tried to get up, or they had not slept well. Neither option was good.

But they were awake now.

“Are you hungry, Villain?” Counselor repeated themself, approaching the bedside. An impulse to straighten the bed linens ran through them, but their hands were full-- they placed the platter down on the table beside the hospital bed.

They took a moment to reply, as if they were unsure whether or not they were expected to speak. They decided upon the former.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I made you some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Y’know, when you eat at noon.”

“I- I know. Sorry. Don’t usually eat lunch.”

“You don’t?”

“Medic says I only need dinner.”

“Oh.” Another wave of furious warmth ran through them, but they let it burn out. It wasn’t the time. “Well, if you’re hungry, I have food for you.”

“Y-Yes. Sorry. Thank you, uh, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Villain sat up, taking the platter from their bedside table. It was a simple arrangement-- with little to no knowledge of what exactly Medic was up to, Counselor had decided to play it safe, making whatever was least likely to upset Villain’s stomach. A sandwich, some yogurt, and some carrots. Simple and small, but food.

Yet, as the former Asset gazed at the plate, they looked almost confused. Genuinely perplexed, staring at an abstract painting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just... This doesn’t look like what Medic has me eat.”

Counselor frowned.

“What does Medic have you eat?”

“Um... Don’t, um.” They furrowed their brow, looking for all the world to be trying to do mental calculus. “Don’t know word, um, I don’t know what it is called. It’s white, and dry. Tastes like chalk.”

At that point, Counselor would have believed it if Villain had told them that Medic was making them eat actual chalk.

“Well... This is something different, for today.”

“Okay.”

Still, the food before them put a confused expression on their face. Eventually, after considering it for a long moment, Villain began to tear pieces off the sandwich, eating them in that manner.

“Villain?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”

“Do you know someone named Traitor?”

Villain’s hand stopped, halfway through bringing a piece of food to their mouth. They put it back down.

They nodded.

“They didn’t call them that.”

“What did they call them?”

“Trainer.”

“And they called you Cadet.”

Villain’s teeth snapped together, gritting hard enough that they seemed about to crack.

“Yes. I didn’t... I didn’t think you knew.”

“I...” There was no reason to lie. “I didn’t. Not until just a minute ago.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Villain shook their head. “It’s okay.”

“Is it okay if I... Is it okay if I ask you about it?”

Villain frowned for a moment-- looking as though they were actually considering the question. Even as much as Counselor wanted to hear a yes, even the fact that they were thinking it through made them swell with hope.

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

“Okay.” They weren’t sure when their voice had grown so quiet, so placating. As though they were whispering in a far larger room. “They called you an Asset. What is that?”

“Um... We were weapons, I think.”

“There were multiple?”

“Mhm.” They nodded, ever so slightly, like their head was locked in place. “Not many made it... They kept us prisoner, for a long time. Before the collapse. Before your rebellion. Said we were useful only as lab rats. Then... Something changed. They decided we were useful. Started training.”

“Training?”

“We didn’t want to fight for them. So we weren’t given a choice.”

“You were... You were there, all that time?”

“When you rebelled, I guess- You didn’t know about us, did you?”

“No.”

“No one did.”

“And then they wanted your help.”

“They didn’t give a choice. I guess there was a choice. You could obey, or...”

“Or?”

“Or kill your handler.”

“What did they-”

“They shot the ones that acted up like that. Said it wasn’t worth losing soldiers over.”

“But you...”

“I-” Their voice hiccuped, catching in their throat. “I didn’t want to. Not at first.”

“They hurt you?”

“Some. I guess. Trainer had a whip. But that wasn’t their style. They needed us intact. They had other ways.”

“Oh.”

Villain turned the conversation about.

“How did you find out?”

“A video.”

“A video?”

More cautiously, this time, Villain ate another piece of sandwich.

“Some kind of training video. We found it on a computer. We took it, from Organization.”

“Oh.”

“You...”

“The one I was in.”

“Yeah.”

Villain’s lips pursed into a thin line. They picked up their plate, putting it back on the nightstand, before throwing aside their blanket.

Their hospital gown was thin and wispy-- they moved aside the fabric covering their lower leg.

A hole. That was the only word that would be in any way appropriate to describe the wound-- a hole, dug out of flesh. Healed and faded, so much so that the scar tissue had turned white, but it was still there. Still horrid enough to make Counselor’s stomach twist with nausea.

“What is...”

“A gunshot.”

“A gun did that?”

“Yeah. Really close up.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

“You were hurt, in the video.”

“Yeah.”

“It was...”

“It was this. I got hurt. Got shot. I couldn’t walk for a long time, couldn’t fight for a lot longer than that. Was stuck in the med bay. But I could walk, so they figured I could do the videos.”

Counselor nodded their understanding, as best as they could manage. Villain recovered the wound.

“Villain?”

“Yeah?”

“You left. Did you leave? On your own?”

“Um... It was more complicated than that.”

“You were rescued?”

They seemed to consider for a moment, before nodding.

“Leader.”

For a split second, Counselor thought they had imagined the word.

“Leader?”

“They saved me. By, um, by shooting me.”

“They...”

“They shot me in the leg.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I don’t know if you can.” Villain diverted their gaze quickly. “Sorry, that was mean. It’s just, I mean, things were different back then. You have a choice. You left because you wanted to. Because you didn’t believe in what you were doing.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I guess I had some idea, but, not really. I just did what Train- Traitor said.” Their head lurched upward. “They’re okay, right?”

“What?”

“Trainer. They’re okay, right?”

“I- I guess I don’t know. We haven’t done anything to harm them.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“You... You liked them?”

“I miss them.” They drew their legs to their chest, hugging them. “A lot.”

“You miss them?”

“Mhm.” There was somehow a terribly sorrowful tone to the humming. “I left them. But I miss them.”

“Did you... Did you escape? On your own?”

“I guess.” They straightened their legs back out. “The longer I was in the med bay, the less security there was. After a while, I think they forgot I was there. They just left me there, in that bed. Leader... Did they ever tell you?”

“About what?”

“About what they told me.”

“No. They didn’t even tell us they shot you.”

“They said it, right before they shot me. It was, um, it was an address. They said if I went there, I could get help. Then they shot me.”

“An address?”

“In Oregon. It was the first anyone had spoken to me in, I guess in years, at that point. They spoke around me, but never in English?”

“They didn’t speak English? They did when I was there.”

“Yeah, before they went all evil. Decided they wanted to speak Latin. I didn’t even know that that’s what it was, at the time. I never understood a word of it, still don’t. Then Leader came along, and spoke to me. In a language I knew. And it made me think, think like I hadn’t in such a long time.”

“In the video, in the video they were speaking English.”

“Mhm.” Villain nodded. “That was the second time I’d heard a language I understood. It’s like I woke up, like I’d been sleeping for forever. Like I remembered I was human. And, when the ship got close enough to the West coast...”

“You jumped ship.”

“I almost drowned doing it, too. But I didn’t. And I made it to the address.”

“And that was six months ago.”

“A year ago. I collapsed on a stranger’s doorstep, and they took me in. And... that’s it.”

“That’s it.”

“Mhm.”

They again took the platter, beginning to again pick at their food. Counselor let them eat in silence.

In the end, it was Villain who spoke up.

“Counselor?”

“Yeah?”

“I know Leader wanted to do good. I know they wanted to help. But... if I had the choice. If i could do it all again, I never would have left.”

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“Of course they wouldn’t have. They’re an Asset.”

Medic spoke the words before the door was even fully open, yet Counselor heard them loud and clear, looking up and spinning around.

“Cadet, sedeo.”

The Asset fell without resistance. Medic could not help but clench their fists as they closed the door behind them, approaching their patient’s bed.

The smell of food permeated the room. Real food. Unregulated and unweighted and breaking the rules, breaking the pattern.

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” They spat, turning to Counselor, sitting at Villain’s bedside like some kind of grieving idiot.

“They were hungry.” The response was firm, their adversary’s eyes narrowed. “So I fed them.”

“Did I not tell you that they have very specific feeding requirements?”

“You did.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Not really, no.”

Medic gritted their teeth.

No matter what this idiot excuse for a therapist thought, they weren’t stupid. Allowing them to see Medic’s patient had been a gesture of good will.

They should never have allowed it. They should have known this would happen.

Their plan had been going so goddamn well. Their patient responding to stimuli, to altered variables, as had been expected. As had been planned. As had been rigorously calculated.

And this piece of shit had ruined it. They had thrown off the experiment, the results, all of it!

The symptoms were showing as expected. Every single one of them. They were so damn close to starting the final phase, and now...

“What are you trying to do, Counselor...”

“They were hungry, so I fed them.”

“No, not that. I know you did that. But... all of this. Trying to help them. Trying to fight me. Why?”

“Because you’re hurting them.”

“We already went over this.”

“Well, at the very least, you aren’t helping them.”

“I’m treating them.”

“You’re keeping them alive. That’s it.”

“And what are you trying to do, pray tell?’

“What?”

“Counselor, what the hell is your end goal, here?”

There was no way this excuse for a social worker would see the right side of things, see the same way Medic did. But, at the very least, they could try to make them open their eyes, for once in their goddamn life.

“My end goal is making them better.”

“And then what?”

“What?”

“Say Villain gets better. One hundred percent healed. Then what?”

“Whatever they want.” Counselor drew back their upper lip. “You called them an Asset.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You knew.”

“And I see you do now, as well.”

“You should have told me.”

“You never asked.”

“You still should have told me! How could you have known and not done anything about it?”

Medic clenched their hands into fists.

“Because I was part of Organization. So were you. And Hero, and Leader, and everyone. Remember that were a rebellion. A splinter group.”

“I was part of Organization, and I didn’t know.”

“Well, I did.”

“And you didn’t do anything.”

“Is that what you’re going to bemoan me for, now? Because I didn’t leave as quickly as you? Because I was a department head? Because I didn’t have a chance? Because-”

“Shut up.”

“If this is what you’re going to get on my case about, now?”

“Maybe I am.”

“What about Leader, then? What about-”

“This isn’t about them!”

“They were married to Supervillain!”

“We all got over that a long time ago. If you want a fight, let’s at least do it over something that matters. When Villain is better, and I mean when, I will let them choose what they want to do.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

“You said it yourself, they’re a villain. When they were free, on their own, they were hurting people.”

“We can talk about it. Find out why. Help them.”

“And if they don’t want to stop? Are you really planning on just letting them go back out there? Because, what, it makes you feel better about yourself?”

“N- No. I wouldn’t.”

“Then you’d keep them prisoner.”

“Maybe.”

“And they’d stay sick.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because they’re an Asset. How often do you use your powers?”

“I- I don’t know. Once or twice a week?”

“Exactly. They spent months of their life going on daily missions, using their powers. Now they aren’t using them. Now they’re sick.”

“You’re saying...”

“What we’re doing, it’s like trying to keep a Border Collie as a lap dog. They need to use their powers, because they were an Asset. It’s what their brain has gotten used to. We can’t change that. We can’t change the past.”

“They aren’t going to be an Asset again. We aren’t like that. We aren’t Organization.”

Of course, the soft one would say that.

“That’s not what I’m saying. But it’s the only theory that makes sense to me, at this point. And if they have to use their powers anyways, they may as well be helping us.”

“Shut up.”

“I haven’t-”

“Just shut up, okay? You’re talking about them like they’re not even there.”

“They can’t hear us.”

“Wake them up.”

“I will in a moment.” Medic sighed. “Look. I can’t see the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I do know that their training starts tomorrow.”

Counselor gritted their teeth.

“So.” Medic slumped their shoulders. “From tomorrow onwards, you may feed them as you wish.”

It was a sacrifice. Another gesture of good will, of trying to gain trust. They were giving up one variable in their experiment, turning it from a control to something wild, something they couldn’t control.

But, maybe, that was a good thing.

Handing over the experiment to another scientist-- as much as Counselor could be considered a scientist. Passing on the blame. Turning the causation into correlation.

Counselor nodded.

“Okay.”

#villainsicle #villain whumpee #hero villain whump #whump community #whump

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mimisempai · 4 years ago

Text

I am here to ask you something special

Summary:

Sam wants to do things the right way. He visits an old friend to talk about his relationship with Bucky and ask for his blessing

5 times where Sam asks old Steve for his blessing and one time where he realizes he never needed it.

Notes:

Many people talk about Steve as if he were dead, but I imagine him living a peaceful life in a cottage with his sweetheart. Sam and Bucky still in contact with him, one way or another.

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32006143

2265 words - Rating G

Sam hesitated a bit before reaching for the small gate that led to the entrance of a small cottage surrounded by trees.

When he decided to open it, a voice said, "I thought you wouldn't come in."

Sam looked up and his gaze went to the source of the voice.

He moved forward a little, and hidden behind a flowering bush, he saw Steve, a book in his hand, sitting in a rocking chair.

"Sam, it's so good to see you! " he said with a smile that not even the years had been able to change.

He got up quietly and came over to meet Sam.

"Steve, you look great."

"No need to spare me, you can add I look great for my age. Come on in. So what brings you here my friend? We... uh I don't get many visitors, so I'm a little surprised."

Sam, who had noticed the slip of the tongue, didn't insist and followed him into a small, pleasantly arranged living room. They took seats in two armchairs.

"So Sam? How are you? How is it carrying the shield?"

"I'm fine, and as you know yourself, not always easy. But I think I'm doing okay."

Steve smiled softly and said, "You are, and I never doubted it, though I hear you don't care what Steve Rogers wants." he winked.

"I see Bucky couldn't help but open his mouth."

Steve chuckled, "He even made a point of saying it to my face, full of arrogance with his stubborn tone, 'You know what Steve, Sam's right, we don't care what you want.' and you were right. I'm glad you found your way, although as Bucky explained to me, we had no right to ask you to do something like that without knowing the consequences. I owe you an apology too Sam."

Sam, touched, didn't immediately know what to say. It moved him more than he thought to hear Steve's apology and the fact that apparently Bucky had defended him so passionately. It further confirmed why he had come to see his old friend today.

"So Sam, you still haven't told me, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Sam fidgeted a little, he had thought it would be a formality, but now that he was here he realized it was harder than he had anticipated.

"Um...so here goes...you know Bucky and I are together...-" he began in a hesitant tone.

He was interrupted by a burst of laughter from Steve.

"I think I was the first to know. It was super early in the morning and I remember us...I was having breakfast when I got this facetime call from Bucky, talking all excited about a cookout, about 'Uncle Bucky' and in the midst of all this information, I managed to figure out that you two were a couple."

Steve looked at him with a fond smile.

Sam remembered what Steve was talking about like it was yesterday.

They had held a cookout on the harbor, and Bucky had come with a cake. Sam remembered how his nephews, family and friends welcomed him as if he were family. The way Bucky's face lit up when he saw Sam.

He especially remembered the end of the day, they were side by side in front of the lake and Sam had turned to Bucky and just said, "let's go home."

He had seen several emotions run over Bucky's face, shock, surprise, realization and finally a nameless joy.

He had whispered in a voice clouded with emotion, "Yes, let's go home."

And they had gone home, Sam's arm around Bucky's shoulders.

There had been no passionate kiss, no grand declarations in that moment, but like Bucky, Sam considered that from that day forward they were together.

"Sam?"

Steve's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes, excuse me."

"No worries Sam, believe me I understand you."

Sam coughed, then resumed, "Yeah, so I was saying, Bucky and I are together and things are going pretty well and-"

"According to Bucky, things are going more than pretty well." replied Steve with a cheeky smile. "He told me about the two of you taking a house together. If that's the case, then things are going better than well between you, right?" Steve asked him playfully.

It was true that, contrary to what the beginning of their relationship suggested, everything went smoothly.After fighting with each other and Sam choosing to become Captain America, they realized that the most important thing for them was to talk and listen to each other, and this allowed them to deflect most of the conflicts that would arise. Sam had learned to lean on Bucky and Bucky had learned to listen to Sam, and the balance between them was natural.

So living together had been a very obvious step.

He still remembered Bucky's joy when he had taken him in front of their new house, surprising him. But what had moved both men the most was the sign nailed to the door, obviously made by children's hands. It read: " Sam, Bucky and Alpine's house. "

The cohabitation was really going smoothly, it was easy to live with Bucky. They had adapted well to each other.

Sam smiled fondly, thinking back on all the little things that made up their daily routine.

Bucky was caring and Sam hadn't expected that. Bucky recorded every detail about him, all his quirks, his likes, everything-

"Sam? I lost you again."

You're going to think I'm an idiot by now," Sam replied with an embarrassed chuckle as he scratched the back of his head.

"I actually find it kind of refreshing, it's been so long for me, but I remember the thrill of the early months." said Steve with an understanding look.

"With her?" asked Sam, pointing to the wedding ring with his chin.

"Sort of." replied Steve with a mysterious smile.

"Always so evasive my friend." teased Sam.

"And so?" asked Steve.

"I see..." Sam didn't insist, "So I was saying, we're together and it's going very well. Bucky's even adjusted very well to Delacroix."

"Yes it seems to me he told me about working on a boat with your sister I believe?" asked Steve, looking interested.

"When he first came to Delacroix, he had brought me my new armor, and he stayed to help me repair the boat of our family business that Sarah, my sister, runs. And when he moved here permanently, he offered to help on his own. He fit in perfectly and the people of Delacroix respect him."

Sam thought of Carlos, who kept singing Bucky's praises. Bucky had taken a liking to the old man and often Sam would find them sharing a beer on the boat deck when he returned from a mission.

"You know Sam, it doesn't surprise me, Buck has always been a friendly and helpful guy. I'm glad to know that he's been able to get back to some semblance of a normal life despite the years Hydra took from him.I'm glad to know that he knows something other than fighting."

Sam saw emotion pass over Steve's face.

Of course he had seen that Bucky was fully acclimated to life in Delacroix and he was not unhappy about that. He knew that if he needed him, the White Wolf would be there in a heartbeat and ready to help, but he was glad to know that he had a life outside the battlefield.

"Yeah, sometimes I feel like he's lived in Delacroix longer than I have, and I was born there so that's saying something. So, yes, we live happily together in Delacroix, and he's kind of part of the family."

Steve chuckled, "Haha yes, Uncle Bucky. I really wish I could have seen his face when he was called that."

"You would have seen mine," Sam retorted, "I was the most surprised."

"Pleasantly surprised I hope." asked Steve, with a slight frown, gauging Sam.

"Yes yes, don't get on your high horse, Steve the mother hen. My nephews don't have much of a male presence in their lives except for me, that's why they adopted Bucky immediately, and needless to say, the reverse is true. Besides, he's become a legend among the younger generation, you understand, the bionic arm and all, even my wings can't compete."

Steve laughs as he imagines Bucky surrounded by kids.

"Wait, let me show you!"

Sam picked up his phone and after a few seconds, he showed Steve the screen.

The older man couldn't hold back a small tear at the picture of Bucky lifting children with his arm, while others laughed around him. But what touched him the most was Bucky's own laughter.

As Sam put his cell phone back in his pocket, Steve wiped away his tears as he apologized, "Well, that's just the way it is, as we get older we get more emotional, and to see my best friend this happy, makes me incredibly pleased, thank you for showing me this Sam."

"You're welcome."

Sam cleared his throat before continuing, "So here's the thing Steve, I came today, because Bucky is an extremely important person, hell he's the most important person in my life. I never thought I would find someone who knows me and understands me so well and who I don't have to be strong with all the time.I told you he's part of my family, but I would like him to be part of it in a more official way, and since you're all the family he has left as I know he thinks of you as his brother, although sometimes you act more like his mother, so I-"

Steve, laughing at Sam's last sentence, interrupted him with a wave of his hand.

Once he calmed down, he began to speak, "Sam, I think I understand what you came for. And I want you to know that nothing makes me happier than to give you my blessing, but you didn't have to ask for it. From the first day Bucky told me about you two, you have had this blessing. You are an exceptional person, and I am extremely happy that my two best friends have found each other. Having found happiness with the person I love, I know how precious that is. Not everyone gets a second chance like we did... like I did. So be happy, both of you. You both deserve it."

He clasped Sam's hand and put his other hand over their joined hands, just like the day he had passed the shield to him.

Once again Sam's gaze was drawn to the ring on Steve's finger.

"You still don't want to tell me about her?" asked Sam.

Letting go of Sam's hand, Steve said simply, "No..." Steve paused for a moment before continuing, "This story belongs to him and me."

Sam abruptly raised his head, but seeing that Steve had resumed his mysterious air, he simply nodded.

"I understand. I'm glad you found happiness then."

He stood up and headed for the door, "Don't walk me out I know the way. Just wish me luck."

"You don't need luck. I'm sure he'll say yes." replied Steve with a wink.

"Goodbye Steve."

Then he closed the door behind him.

As he was about to open the gate, his phone vibrated.

He picked it up, there was a message, "On your left."

He looked over his left shoulder, and saw Steve in the darkness of the window, but he wasn't alone and had his arm around the shoulders of a familiar figure. Sam tried to make out the features of the smaller man, but couldn't. He simply smiled and went on his way.

**********

A few days later, at Delacroix, lying with his head in Bucky's lap, Sam watched him squirm to try to take a picture of his right hand with his phone.

He straightened up and asked, "What are you trying to do?"

"I want to send a picture to Steve, of this," Bucky said, waving the hand that had been sporting the engagement ring in front of Sam's nose.

Sam smiled with fondness, picked up the phone and took Bucky's hand. He captured a photo of their joined hands, the engagement ring in full view.

Then kissing Bucky's hand, he handed the phone back to him.

Bucky typed a few words and sent the message.

Several hundred miles from Delacroix, in a small cottage, reading, Steve picked up his phone, which had just vibrated.

On the screen were the words, "Buddy, you'll never guess who is going to tie himself down."

Followed by a photo of a hand adorned with what could only be an engagement ring, joined to another hand, undoubtedly Sam's.

"So that's it, Sam proposed?" said a voice behind Steve.

"And Bucky said yes." replied Steve as arms wrapped around him from behind and a kiss was placed on his head.

He set the phone down beside him and turned to put his hands around the waist of the man behind him.

He sighed softly in happiness as he said, "I hope they are as happy as we are Tony."

"I'm sure they will be, my love." the man whispered as he kissed his head again. Then he let go of him and came to sit next to Steve.

Tony leaned against Steve who put his arm around him.

Then Steve picked up his book and continued to read aloud, "Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away."

__________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

Quote at the end : Wind, Sand and Stars - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #tfatws #the avengers #marriage proposal #sort of #fluff #sambucky fic #stony fic

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aliveanddrunkonsunlight · 4 years ago

Text

food

Jaime x Brienne + alternate love languages

For @naomignome

Author’s Note: The previous ficlets, I was writing from their POV for each love language and how they receive that from the other person. Example: how Brienne hears/receives words of affirmation from Jaime. This is flipped, where I’m writing it from the POV of the person who is communicating the love (if that makes sense.)

They are both, somehow, alive. The sun peeks over the distant horizon. Carnage and ashes surround them, the stench of battle filling their noses.

Her chambers. Armor coming off with shaky hands, dirt and sweat stained bodies sagging as they fall into merciful sleep.

Jaime wakes, not in cold darkness as he expects, but with the quiet rustle of flames in the hearth. The floor is no longer littered with armor. It sits across the table and chairs, his and hers, polished so carefully, the firelight dancing in its sheen.

Before his feet hit the floor, he knows where he will find her. She is in the moonlit yard, helping the other men build the pyres. He coaxes her back to bed, somehow, but the next morning, he wakes to find her side of the bed already empty.

The circles under her eyes darken and grow deeper. The crease in her brow remains constant. It is on the third day when he touches her hand in passing, feels the cold clamminess of it, and worries she is turning into one of the creatures they fought. “Bed. Now.” he orders.

She objects, even as he steers her towards their room. She has to help rebuild. It is not your home, my lady. Unless you plan to stay. She has to protect Sansa. You are not Lady Sansa’s sworn sword. She has her guard. What will Pod think? The boy would not wish to see you ill.

He brings her broth and the freshest bread (for the latter, he might have bribed the kitchen maid to set it aside for him, but Brienne does not need to know) and she swirls the spoon like a petulant child until he threatens to feed her himself. “You’ll end up with broth slung all over the bed sheets,” he teases her, gesturing with his stump.

In the evening, Pod arrives with more hearty fare and another man carrying a pile of furs. “Before you object that we are stealing these from some unsuspecting soul who needs them when we have plenty,” he tells her after they leave. “Lady Sansa said she was happy to loan them.” He spends far too long arranging the furs and pillows on the hard stone floor in front of the fireplace before he approaches the bed and takes her hand. From the look on her face, she is too shocked to speak.

He arranges the furs carefully around her, Brienne leaning back against him, and he reclines against the legs of a chair. The somewhat uncomfortable seat is worth it for the little sigh she exhales when he wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her shoulder, the two of them watching the fire.

She dozes against him and his heart quickens, listening to her steady breath, noticing the way her fingers curl against his thigh. I love you.

He has said it so rarely since they confessed their feelings to each other, afraid saying it too often would lessen its meaning.

The next morning, when they wake together, he asks her about Tarth. “Do you mean to return?”

A shadow passes over her face and her eyes shift away from his. “I should go and see my father.” It sounds like duty more than longing, and he is not sure what to make of that, so instead he kisses her and tells he loves her. It earns him a soft smile, and it is all so easy.

On the boat to Tarth, she is excited to show him her home. Her face is open and bright as she tucks her long body against his on the deck. They watch the island grow closer, Brienne pointing out things, her voice soft in his ear, making him shiver.

When they step off the ship, there is a cavalcade of men awaiting them. Brienne embraces one of them before stepping back and taking his arm, introducing Jaime to her cousin Endrew. “Where is my father?” There is the shadow passing over her face again and an inkling of understanding begins to form.

“He is waiting to greet you at Evenfall,” her cousin replies.

Except he is not waiting, he is still meeting with whatever Tarth farmer needs counsel rather than his own daughter, returned from war.

Finally, a man with broad shoulders and a portly belly appears in the doorway. He has the same broad face as Brienne, only his is half covered by a neatly trimmed white beard. He smiles and opens his arms for a hug, his gray eyes shimmering in the bright white marble of the entrance hall.

Jaime does not expect her father to be thrilled that she has brought the Kingslayer himself home, but there is skepticism and disappointment on Selwyn’s face which he cannot hide. Brienne asks if he wants to accompany them on a walk before the evening meal, but he brushes her aside, saying he has meetings and duties and and.

Brienne is oddly quiet as she shows him Evenfall. They take their walk through the grounds, just the two of them, but Jaime notices how she walks a few steps ahead of him, lost in her own thoughts.

Selwyn is polite, but not warm. At dinner, he asks about their journey, fills Brienne in on trivial matters around the island, but after the small talk is dispensed with, he has little else to say. No questions about Brienne’s experiences on the mainland, none about the man she brought with her.

There is an absence. An absence in him, an absence which echoes in the halls of this castle. Echoes of her brother, her mother, her siblings. How much grief Brienne has known, true grief, not the false feelings he felt at the news that his eldest son was dead, the mask he wore at his father’s vigil. The dutiful son, the dutiful soldier.

No, Brienne still carried the memories of her loved ones within, a part of her so deep and recessed, even he did not have access. The longer they sit at her father’s table, the more Jaime realizes she never wished him to see it. Brienne did not want him to see how her father’s ignorance, his neglect, cast such a long shadow over his remaining child. But Jaime does see. The steel core of her begins to melt away. He watches those strong shoulders slump under the weight of childhood hurt. All those half-healed scars.

Brienne has never needed him to protect her. Not when they got taken by the Bloody Mummers, not even at the bear pit, not any moment since, but he wants to stretch his good arm down the length of the table, take up the Evenstar by his collar and shake him. Make him listen, tell him all the ways he should be on his knees thanking his daughter.

Jaime’s hand shakes, thinking of all the words he might use to explain what Brienne has done for him, much less half the kingdom.

She told me to live.

She allows him to simply be the man he always wished to be, because she knows he is capable. She does not discredit him for his faults, just as he does not discredit her for hers. It sounds emotionally distant to say they love one another justly, but it’s true. It is equanimity. Any space they are together is one where he can breathe, after decades of what felt like drowning.

He loves her more than he thinks he will ever be able to express, but he does not let it stop him from trying. Words and deeds and touch and the very air in his lungs.

I am so, so sorry, my darling, he tells her that night. She likely does not know what he means, it could easily be an apology for his reputation, the deed which cast the die for his life for so long. He means it as an apology, one which she will never get from her father.

The next morning, Brienne has gone down to breakfast before he wakes. Standing outside the great hall, he hears their voices echoing inside. “Will you live at the Rock then?”

“I--I always planned to serve in your stead, but I know that is not what you wished of me.”

“Nonsense, I only wished you to be happy.”

“I am.” After a moment, so quietly he has to lean towards the door to hear. “We chose each other.”

Upon hearing that, Jaime walks outside, needing fresh air. She finds him in the gardens, hand clutched around the seat of a stone bench. He tugs her down into his lap. “I am very proud of you.”

“Proud of me?” Her forehead wrinkles into that familiar frown. “Why?”

“Do I need a reason?” he asks in the moment before his mouth covers hers.

Their wedding party is tiny and Brienne refuses to have the ceremony in the sept, so they wed on the cliffs overlooking the sea. It is near sunset and light spills across the water in an orangey glow, shimmering in the gold trimmings on her wedding cloak.

At the small feast afterwards, her father reminds him that Brienne once swore she would only ever wed if the man could beat her in the yard. “She has already done that, my lord, I assure you,” Jaime replies in a voice which makes her whole body flush.

“That is when you were in shackles,” Brienne says, once they are alone in her chambers.

He laughs. “Well, it is too late now, my love. We are wed.”

Her blue eyes glitter at him from the other side of the room. “You mean you will not spar with me on our wedding night? I never knew you to be so dull.”

Jaime chases her around the bed, making her shriek with laughter, and when he catches her, they wrestle against each other on the mattress, both of them grinning like fools. “I happen to know you are quite good at the other type of sparring.”

“Jaime,” she chides him, but a soft laugh falls from her lips as she bends down to kiss him.

It is well past midnight when she drags him out to the yard. “You cannot let me win,” she warns him at one point as their tourney swords clash.

He chuckles between his gritted teeth until Brienne breaks the hold they are in. “You forget I am much older than you.”

“No excuses, old man,” she winks at him.

Jaime knows it is worthless to protest about his left hand. They both fought the dead. Only he likes when Brienne--his wife--can easily best him and it is difficult to summon up his usual competitiveness when she executes a particularly thrilling move.

He ends up in a rather vulnerable position, on his knees in the dirt, her sword pointed at his throat, only to revel in the slow realization dawning in her eyes. She’s won. That is until he bats her wooden tourney sword away with his left hand and tackles her to the ground. “You cheated.” she accuses, once they both get their breath back.

He smirks at her, slipping his hand underneath her tunic, delicate fingertips against her skin. “We’ll call it even.”

When her father passes, Brienne throws herself into all the things which need to be done. He is the one who coaxes her back to bed. She has to allow herself to rest. She has to allow herself to mourn. She’ll do no one any good running herself ragged.

This time, he does not have to bribe the kitchen maids. They make Brienne’s favorite dishes and willingly wake in the middle of the night to show Jaime how to warm milk for her, served with a dash of honey, to help her go back to sleep.

“We were very much alike,” she says to him a few days later, when they are walking in the gardens. “Headstrong. That is why we fought so often.” Jaime is tempted to tell her all the ways they were different, but it would not help anything. Right now, the most important thing he can provide is solace, not unwanted advice. “He tried so hard to understand me. He only wanted something to go right. To see me happily wed, except that was something he wanted. It was not what I wanted. So then,” she takes a shaky breath. “He finally let me go, even though I know he was mocked, chastised that he could not control his own daughter.”

“You represented him honorably. No one could accuse you otherwise.” He presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “And if they try, you can face them in the yard.”

She has not laughed since her father died, but she smiles then and squeezes his hand. “Thank you.”

Their fifth year of marriage, he arranges for their friends to travel to Tarth. It is an unrealistic request for most, he realizes, but everyone comes. Lady Sansa, his brother, Pod and Peck and Gendry, all of the people who know Brienne’s selflessness and his luck. There is cake and fruit and all manner of sweet things Brienne says she does not like, but which he knows she secretly enjoys. Meat pies and cheese and warm, fresh-baked bread. There is laughter and stories spun over a long meal and good wine. In some ways, it is a happier day than their wedding.

She laces her fingers through his and they lean against each other, listening to the others late into the night.

For her name day, he and the children bake a cake. Alex’s whole outfit is covered with flour and Alys’ hair is dusted with it. They insist on him writing the script in icing, even with his shaky left hand. When they present it to her that evening, she laughs in delight and kisses all of them, tears shimmering in her eyes. She presses an extra kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

#jaime x brienne #love languages #fic: food

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buglife · 4 years ago

Text

Bend and Not Break - Ch 4: A Scar

Read here on AO3 :3

Contains 100% more smooches!

Xena stepped lightly as she opened the door to one of the interrogation rooms, narrowing her eyes as she adjusted to the dim light. The room had been quickly converted to a makeshift recovery room, the table that usually sat in the middle of the room had been pushed aside and replaced with a cot. Said cot was loaded with pillows and blankets in an effort to take as much pressure off the occupant's injuries as possible. Resting peacefully on it was Poppy, the scorpion rescued from the basement of a disgraced noble and had her venom forcibly extracted by torture. She seemed to be doing much better, her body was now criss-crossed with bandages and she was no longer twitching. She seemed to be sleeping at the moment.

She took a look at the clipboard left behind on the table where Monomon’s notes were scribbled. Electrical burns, blunt force trauma, eye damage, nerve damage...the list seemed to go uncomfortably long. She was glad she managed to get to her in time, but was disappointing that she and the other knights didn’t find out about the assassination plot sooner. Maybe they could have prevented a lot of suffering, but she couldn’t know for sure.

“Hello?” Poppy blinked awake, most likely from hearing Xena walk around. She was lying on her back and couldn’t twist her head to see who had entered the room. “Who’s there?” She asked, a tinge of worry to her voice.

“I am Xena, one of the Great Knights, I was there when you were rescued.” She pulled up a chair next to the cot and sat down. “Do you remember me?”

Poppy took a moment to breathe and then smiled the best she could through half a bandaged face. “I do.” She sounded coherent, but her speech was slurred and slow.

“You look much better,” Xena smiled in what she hoped was in a comforting way. “You must be on the good stuff, right?”

“Yeah.” Poppy didn’t bother trying to nod. “Nothin’ hurts. It’s great.”

“Well I won’t keep you long, I just need to ask a few questions and then you can go back to resting, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” The scorpion mumbled softly and did her best to focus her one working eye to the ant’s face. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for. Do you remember how you were abducted?” Xena had a quill and a tablet ready to take notes. “Take your time and try to remember what you can, okay?”

Poppy mulled over the question for a while, and started speaking. “I was at my flower shop in...in Deepnest. Some Hallownest bug came in...I asked if they wanted flowers...I grow flowers by the way and make them into arrangements. It’s nice.”

Xena nodded, knowing full well that she was on some of those good painkillers, and would probably will go off into tangents. “What kinda bug came in?”

“It was that um….beetle. Yes, that beetle. From...the place.” Poppy swallowed thickly, “Where they were...were...hurting me…”

“Don’t worry about him, he can’t hurt you anymore.” The ant put as much conviction as she could muster into her voice. “He won’t be hurting anyone else, after today.”

“Good,” She wheezed a little, catching her breath.

“What did the beetle want from you?” Xena pressed gently. “I think I could wager a guess but I need to hear it from you.”

“He uh...he asked to buy my venom...and I told him I sell flowers, not venom! It was weird...and creepy , and its against the law cause um...uh...it’s dangerous. You hafta have a license to get some and you get it from the...oh...what do you call it…” The scorpion hrmed to herself. “Oh I can’t remember, it’s the place where you can get dangerous stuff if you are a uh...professional? Scientist?”

“A supplier is what I think you mean. Where controlled substances can be given out dependent on research or medical use.”

“Yes! That! Well he got mad and started saying something about the fate of bug kind and how there was monsters in Hallownest? He said I should work with them to save everyone and I told him to leave cause I’m just a flower bug. And then something hit me on the back of my head.” She reached up with a free arm to touch the back of her bandaged head. It looked like a mess when she was first found and Xena was glad that Poppy couldn’t feel any pain right now.

“Then I woke up all tied up and the beetle was there with some other people. He said that I was going to help them get rid of the monsters and I told them I wouldn’t! Then they...they….” She sniffled, her eye tearing up.

“Then they hurt you and forcibly took your venom.” Xena knew when to stop asking questions. Poppy was starting to get a little upset, and she felt awful that she even had to bring up what happened to her so soon. But, she had to get this down for the record, and it was better to do it now while Poppy wasn’t in physical pain than wait and do it later.

Poppy nodded in response. “Mmhmm. I don’t know how long I was there.”

“That’s okay, Right now what I need from you is to rest and get better, okay? We’ll send word to your Queen and Princess and they’ll probably send someone over to help you home once you are well enough to travel.”

“Okay...thank you.” Poppy sighed. She wasn’t going to be able to stay awake anyway with the meds she was on and was quickly falling back into the realm of dreams. “There'll...be someone outside...right? Watching?”

“There are, I promise.” Xena nodded. “Nobody will let you get hurt again.”

“Mhmm...thanks…” Poppy fell asleep, a combination of reassurance and the ‘good stuff’. Xena took a bit of time to make sure she was comfortable, and then left the room. She glanced at the two guardsmen stationed outside.

“Nobody gets in that isn’t a Knight, the King, or Monomon, got it?”

They both saluted and stayed in place.

“Good...now excuse me, I have someone to see.”

She turned and headed towards the holding cells. The cells were kept underground, and as she descended the stairs she began to hear the annoying sound of metal scraping together. There was the sound of someone loudly complaining before descending into shrieks as the scraping got louder. She took a moment to rub her eyes and sighed, locking the gate behind her and stepping into the corridor.

Tiso was just sitting there, making god awful noises as he happily ran a fork over a metal plate. He was making sure to press extra hard, making terrible squeaking noises that made Xena’s antenna twitch under her helmet. The ex-noble within the cell was close to tears, looking around to Xena as soon as he saw her.

“Oh, oh bless you. Please! Please make him stop!” The jewel beetle was in the dirtiest cell they had, tear tracks marking his face and generally looking disheveled. He crawled to the bars on his knees, gripping the bars with shaky hands. “Please! It hurts!”

“I’m not even doing anything! I’m trying to serenade you with my beautiful music, you uncultured bastard.” Tiso scraped the fork loudly and it set the hairs on her carapace standing up and the beetle to cry out in pain. “It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate artistic talent. Frankly, I’m insulted.”

“That’s enough for now, Tiso.” Xena sighed and dug out her keys. “Monomon needs this guy and she’s going to be pissed if we’re late.”

“Oh?” He casually tossed the dishes to the side. “Going to be testing the antidote then?”

“Testing the what now?” The beetle looked around, confused.

“Most likely, yeah.” Xena ignored the beetle. “Now that she has a pure sample of the poison as well, she thinks she’ll know for sure if the antidote is legit or not after a couple hours.”

“Hours?” Said beetle was rapidly turning pale as he realized what was about to happen.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Xena snarled, opening the cell door. “Get your ass out here or else I’ll drag you out.”

“You can’t do that to me! I’m Lord Maximus Pennington Chrysoch the third!” They tried to dodge her hands, but she was too fast. She seized him by the wrists and began to bodily drag him out.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are! A traitor is a traitor to me.” She looked to Tiso. “Help me drag this sack of shit to Monomon and then you can take a break.”

“Hells yeah!” He jumped up, grabbing the free wrist of the condemned and hauled them to their feet. “Think I’ll have time to head to the museum to see Myla?” The beetle started wibbling and sobbing, but was completely ignored.

“Eh, take Cloth with you and you all can have an hour together. You’ll have to be back at a reasonable time though, we need all hands on deck with this situation.”

“Yeah I got ya. Thanks.” Tiso was noticeably happier, cheerfully dragging the sobbing beetle down the corridor and to their fate. He didn’t care what happened to them, all he could think about now was finally getting to smooch his girlfriends.

---

Monomon arrived outside the door to the royal suite, a capped syringe gripped gently but firmly in her tentacles. As soon as the antidote proved to actually work, and not just be another poison, she rushed as quickly as she could to the top floor. Hollow was standing guard outside of the room and nodded to her. Seeing that there wasn’t time for chit chat, she attempted to open the door.

To her surprise, it was blocked off. She looked at the knob, confused, and tried to push again. “What’s going on here?”

Hollow chirped to get her attention, and signed. <”Father is in there. I think he is sitting in front of the door.”>

“Mato? Of course he would.” She knocked on the door. “Mato! It’s Monomon!”

There was a shuffle from the other side, and the door was pulled open to indeed reveal the Nailmaster. He seemed rather rough looking, he must have booked it from the Howling Cliffs as fast as he could. “Monomon,” he nodded, and stood out of the way.

She floated inside to see what was going on, eyes immediately going to the nest that took up a good portion of the room.

Ghost was cuddled around Quirrel, doing their best to hold him in a way that would hopefully reassure him that someone was watching over him, but not tight enough to harm him. Quirrel was still unconscious, breathing heavily and shivering and once in a while his nerves would shudder, making him twitch and spasm. Ghost was already awake, no doubt hearing the door open. They looked at her, the dark fathomless eyes behind their mask tired and fearful. Their eyes darted from the door to the syringe held in her tentacle.

“Is that…” Their voice was so small and weak, but there was a bloom of hope behind it that Monomon could feel.

“Yes.” She drifted closer and uncapped the syringe. “We have it.”

They sat up quickly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Hold one of his arms still, I don’t want the needle to break if he has a spasm while injecting him.” She checked over the syringe, going over the calculations in her head one more time. She had already triple checked everything, but it wouldn't hurt to check it one more time. Ghost sat up, pulling Quirrel into their lap and used their lower set of arms to cradle him, and the top set to grasp an arm and hold it straight. Quirrel continued to shiver, making a raspy noise of discomfort from being moved.

“Good, like that.” With Ghost holding him, it was easy for her to find the joint in his elbow and sterilize it. Then, she injected the antidote slowly, watching the liquid within disperse into his hemo system.

“There…it should take effect soon.” She deposited the used needle in a box she carried to be sterilized later. “We may not notice a difference at first, but within half an hour he should be more comfortable.”

Ghost kept Quirrel in their embrace, resting their chin on his head and tucking him up close. “Thank you.” They said, moving slightly to adjust themselves. Monomon watched them tilt their head slightly, listening to his breathing as he continued to wheeze.

“How did you get that?” Mato had stayed back to let her do her thing, but now that there wasn’t any needles involved, he approached the nest again.

“A combination of work from the Great Knights, good old science, and some very helpful mandatory volunteers.”

“That’s fucking terrifying.” Mato took a step away from her.

“It’s what they deserved. They at least did something useful with their lives instead of just being executed.”

“How many prisoners are left?” Ghost’s mental voice was whisper quiet, as though they were scared that they were going to disturb Quirrel’s rest.

“I’m not sure. Tiso has the numbers. The ring leader is still alive, he was the lucky one who tested the antidote. What are you going to do about them?”

Ghost was silent for a moment, idly smoothing back Quirrel’s antenna as he lay in their embrace. “I think I will wait for Quirrel to weigh in on it all. He was...the most hurt.”

“He wasn’t the only one hurt,” Monomon drifted down to the floor to sit, curling her tentacles under herself. “There was another victim who is thankfully alive. You’ll have a report on that soon, but you may want to keep her in mind too, as well as yourself and my son.”

“It seems like the best thing to do is to let them stew in their own fear and guilt until you have a chance to deal with them.” Mato also sat, leaning against the wall. “They are not going to have any type of peace as long as they are down there with Tiso at the same time.”

Ghost actually chirped a laugh at that. “That is true.”

As they conversed, Ghost noticed Quirrel subtly shift a little over the course of twenty so odd minutes. His twitching was definitely dying down, leaving him still for the first time since he was poisoned. They could hear his breath change as well, the raspy wheeze was getting smoother and less labored. It would be a while before he was back to normal, but just being able to actually rest was something sorely needed for the pillbug.

“He’s doing better.” The vessel sagged in relief, tears once again welling up in their eyes. “He can breathe now.”

Monomon floated up from her position on the floor and placed a tentacle on the pillbug's forehead. She felt it for a moment before she spoke. “His fever has gone down.”

“He’ll be okay now, right? He’ll be okay?” Ghost shivered, black streaks dripping from their eyes as they pulled Quirrel closer to their chest.

“Yes Ghost, he’ll be okay.”

Ghost broke down into tears, a combination of relief, love, and the bitter fear of loss. Once they started they couldn’t stop, the emotional dam had broken. The sheer stress they had been bundling up for the past two days refused to be ignored any longer. Thick, choking sobs filled the room as they held their husband close. He’ll be okay, they won’t have to say goodbye so soon. They knew one day they would have to, but for now, he’ll be okay. He’ll live and they can continue to share the love that never ran out in their heart. He’ll be okay.

Mato and Monomon both embraced them, and for once, they let their family help them carry the huge amount of stress and emotions swirling around in their void. They kept repeating that simple phrase to themselves, over an over, to keep them grounded in the here and now.

He’ll be okay.

---

Myla hummed to herself as she looked over a crystal in her claws. She turned it around in the light, squinting through a monocular as she studied it’s structure. It was a beautiful fluorite specimen, still rough and unpolished. Broad bands of green, purple, and blues swirled around the stone in a rainbow of colors. She just needed to do a little cleanup on it and then it would be ready for display.

She looked at the basket of rocks on the floor next to her work station, all of them mined and found by her. She was pretty proud that she didn’t lose her knack for finding the beautiful and unusual. The infection left her unable to mine professionally anymore, but she had enough energy to go on little expeditions, following her heart as she explored the corners of the kingdom.

Of course, she didn’t go alone. Either Tiso or Cloth would come with her, keeping her protected as she jumped into holes to hack away at the rocks. She wasn’t very strong, but she can still knee cap people who threaten her, and she keeps her pickaxe nice and sharp. It was fun! Especially when she could spend the time with her partners.

She sighed, she hadn’t seen Tiso and Cloth for several days now. She knew what happened, the whole kingdom knew by now. She knew they had important work to do, but she still missed them.

As if the universe was listening to her thoughts, there was a knock on her office door. She glanced at her clock, it was about time for lunch. Maybe it was a coworker asking if she’d like something?

“Come in!” She called.

The door opened, and to her delight, her two knights tried to squeeze their way inside at the same time. Tiso gasped, smushed up against the door frame as Cloth tried to force her massive bulk through, getting equally wedged in.

“Cloth! Back up!” Tiso kicked his legs that were a good foot of the ground. The force of the attempt to beat Cloth inside had angled his body upwards to get stuck on the frame, one arm free and trying to pull himself free.

“No! You back up!” She retorted, trying to squeeze her shoulders in. “I want to kiss her first!”

“Like hell you -wheeze-” Tiso started going a little blue, a stark contrast to his black shell as he got squashed harder.

Myla never in her whole life, expected that she’d ever be a girl that someone would fight over, let alone two. She knew they were just playing around and joking with their fake little rivalry thing, it was endearing, but sometimes Cloth forgot her own strength. She remembered once when Cloth gave Tiso a ‘gentle’ punch to the arm and accidentally sent him through the window.

“How about both of you back out, and I’ll come to you?”

Cloth and Tiso looked at each other. Cloth nodded and with some effort, pulled herself back and out of the door-frame. Tiso, no longer supported, just fell on the ground and wheezed for breath. Cloth helpfully picked him up and set him on his feet again and dusted off his armor.

Myla giggled, bouncing forward to leap at the two of them and was caught into a three way hug. It was a happy moment of hugs and little smooches that was sorely needed after days of being apart. “I’m so glad you two are here!”

“Unfortunately, we only got a short amount of time, then we have to go back.” Cloth replied, sounding very apologetic.

“Yeah...we still got idiots to process.” Tiso took the time to give them both a nuzzle. “Duty calls and all that.”

“That’s okay, I’m just glad you’re here for now!” Myla wriggled to escape the hug, and promptly headed back inside the office. “I processed some new minerals if you’d like to take a look!”

“Of course we would!” Tiso booked it to the door.. and ended up getting wedged in again when Cloth tried to get in at the same time. This time it was worse, because Cloth didn’t put her club down first, and Myla could hear the wood creaking under the strain of it all. She rubbed the back of her head as she watched them both struggle.

She wondered if she should just have a second door put in.

---

It felt like ages since Grimm started talking, telling Quirrel of fantastical worlds both old and new. It was fascinating, hearing of so many places that were different and unique. For the most part Quirrel listened, asking a question here and there. It seemed like the Nightmare King had visited the places Quirrel had during his wanderings on the surface world, and offered some interesting insight to things he may have missed.

“It seems our time is nearly up.” Grimm folded his claws together under his chin, looking at the pill bug who sat in front of him. He had just finished telling Quirrel about a colorful world with a legend of an eternal sprout that was constantly being searched for. “You will need to wake up soon.”

“Really?” Quirrel leaned back in his chair and poked himself a couple times. “If I’m well enough now to wake up, how come I don’t feel any different?”

“It’s because your mind is protecting itself. You won’t feel pain while in a dream. I can however, change that aspect if it is a nightmare, but I have no reason to do so here.” Grimm gave him a sinister grin, exposing many needle sharp teeth, but Quirrel wasn’t afraid.

“Thanks.” Quirrel sighed, and put down his cup. As soon as it hit the table, it began to dissolve into essence, floating away in motes of white and red. In fact, it seemed like everything that wasn’t Grimm or himself was beginning to look blurry and grainy.

“I am not going to lie. You will most likely be in for a lot of pain once you awaken, but you must wake up.” Grimm looked to the side and off to the distance, watching the walls of the cozy room fade into white. “But you will live.”

“Will we ever get to chat again sometime? Despite the circumstances, I quite enjoyed our conversation. It would be nice to revisit it sometime.”

Grimm smiled softly, hiding his wicked looking teeth once again. “Of course we will.”

“Great!” Quirrel watched the last motes of color leave the dream, leaving nothing but a white, featureless void. Somehow they were still sitting, despite the lack of anything coherent around them. “Hrm...how do I wake up then?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Grimm laughed, his voice distorting and echoing, as though retreating backwards. “You /[Quirrel]/ just need to /open[ed]/ your /[his] eyes./”

Suddenly, he was awake.... and he hated it.

Quirrel’s first thought was a mess of confusion. He had managed to open his eyes, a jarring jump from the dream world to reality. It was easy, but hard at the same time.

What Quirrel managed to see through his stinging eyes was nothing but a blurry mess of darkness and shapes. As soon as his brain caught up with the rest of his body, a deep sharp ache radiated from within his core, spreading all the way to the tips of his limbs. It felt like he tried to cuddle an ooma and paid the price for it. He had no idea how, but even his mandibles hurt. At least Grimm warned him, but it still sucked.

He could tell he was lying on something soft and warm at least. Wriggling his antenna (with a wince, cause how the fuck is his antenna sore too!?!) slightly gave him the usual smells of his home in the palace. His mind was still a little foggy, so when he detected three other people around him, he wasn’t quite sure who they were at first. It was silent, so he couldn’t identify anyone by voices. He was exhausted. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Having his eyes open hurt. It sucked and he resolved to complain about it soon enough. He had no clue what happened other than 1. he got poisoned and 2. he got sick from it.

What he needed right now, was his spouse. They probably knew what the hell happened and could fill him in on what he missed. He didn’t even know how long he was out for. It didn’t seem so long while he conversed with Grimm, but he suspected that time doesn’t really hold all that much meaning in a dream. He moved, at least, he tried to, gasping in pain as his hand squeezed something hard and slender. He nearly jumped out of his chitin when something squeezed back. A shape moved in front of his vision, a blurry mess of white that seemed to shine in the darkness.

“Quirrel?” The voice was tinged with the feeling of hope as it whispered through his head. He knew that voice, and he relaxed.

“Hello, love,” he wheezed. His throat was dry and scratchy and he coughed on his words. He closed his eyes for a moment as the blur moved and tripped his sense of vertigo. He heard a chirp in response before he was being hauled upright and held with four arms. The sudden movement flipped his stomach around and he groaned in response. “Ugh…”

“I’msorryi’msorryi’msorry.” He was being peppered with kisses all over his face as a soft whining noise emitted from a throat that was voiceless. He managed to lift up a shaking hand to rest it on the side of Ghost’s face, happy he didn’t accidentally poke them in the eyes since he couldn't see. He rubbed them as well as he could, struggling with the effort of keeping his arm up.

“It’s alright... dear…” It was difficult to talk, he had to stop and take a breath between each word. As much as he loved kisses, it was starting to overwhelm him, so he tried to soothe his spouse. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. I...I…” There was another wheezing sob and he was thankfully nuzzled instead of kissed. “You could have died.”

“Heh...heh...like you could...get rid of me...that easy.” He dropped his arm, no longer able to keep it up. His hand was captured in one of Ghost’s, and they rubbed it gently. “I plan to...be around...for much longer…You couldn’t...keep me away...if you tried…” He was losing his voice and he swallowed with a wince. He opened his eyes again, it was still blurry, but he could see clearer shapes. A blob of green and a blob of red was approaching, mixing together as he struggled to focus.

“Here you are, my dear.” A glass of water was placed in his free hand and encircled with a tentacle. “Sip slowly.”

“Hi mom…” He knew what his mom felt like, how she always had this sort of static energy around her, like you could get a good zap if you pissed her off. The same tentacle that used to rock him to sleep at night when he was a pip helped him drink and he gratefully swallowed down the water. It was absolute bliss. He may be king, but all the finery in the world couldn’t compare to that nice cold glass of water.

“You gave us a hell of a scare, how are you feeling?” Oh, that must have been Mato. It made sense that he would be here. The blurs of red mixed with gray and was certainly big enough to be the Nailmaster. They moved to stand closer to Ghost...at least he thinks they did. It was hard to tell for the moment.

“Hurts.” Quirrel could have lied but his mother was right there and she would have no trouble putting him in the corner for it. “All over. Hard to see.”

“I figured as much,” Monomon was still holding the glass of water for him, and another tentacle bumped against his mandibles. “Open up, I have something for the pain.”

He did just that, letting the pills go down with another few swallows of water. He imagined that he should feel hungry or something too, but he just didn’t feel like it. She must have sensed the question because she continued talking.

"Let’s wait for half an hour and see if you can handle some soup, okay?”

Quirrel nodded with a sigh. He was awake but tired again, it was rather frustrating. He closed his eyes again, letting them rest as he just laid there and breathed. He could feel the medicine begin to work, a numb tingling working down his limbs and into his core. Soon, every movement didn’t result in pain, and he managed to sit up a little. Ghost helped, sitting so that his back could rest against this chest and belly.

“What happened?” It seemed like a sensible question to ask. He was not surprised that Ghost was the one to answer.

“There was an assassination attempt and you were poisoned by the nail that cut you. The Great Knights led an investigation and arrested the ringleader and several members of the group. They are still investigating, but they are confident they caught most to all of them. You were unconscious for almost three days.”

“Three days?!” Quirrel raised his voice at that. Three whole days? As in seventy two hours?

“Yes, three days.” Monomon piped up. “If it makes you feel any better, half the kingdom has been keeping vigil outside, hoping that you would get better.”

Quirrel blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“She isn’t lying.” Mato was the next to say something, his voice moving around the room. “I nearly had to fight my way inside, there were so many people out there.”

Quirrel...didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, he didn’t feel like he was a person who would warrant a three day vigil, and on the other, he was touched and humbled. He had always been a bug who was fairly social and had a lot of friends, but to have that many bugs sitting around and waiting for news about him...it was astonishing. It must mean that he is doing something right.

“You two need rest,” Mato continued. “Ghost? There’s a pot of soup in the icebox, just warm it up. I’ll go out and tell the masses that things are okay so they can go home.”

“That is a good idea.” Ghost leaned their head down to nuzzle Quirrel some more. “Thank you.”

“And you, my little scholar, are going to stay in bed.” Monomon added. “Strict bed rest until further notice, got it? I will know if you get out of bed, trust me.”

“Yes mom.” Quirrel believed her.

Soon, both parents departed, and once again the room was quiet, save for a soft rumbling. Quirrel realized that Ghost was purring as they cuddled against them. “Stay with me...for a little?” He asked. Now that their parents were gone, it felt strange, like he was a small thing in a sea of uncertainty. Most likely, it’s trauma from the experience, but he didn’t think he could stand being alone for very long now. Now that he was awake, he wanted to stay awake, but he doubts that his body will let him for long.

“I would never leave you,” came the reply. “Everything is on hold for now and will be for a little while.”

“You can’t just... shut down the government...love.” Quirrel chuckled. “Even though...I think most would...enjoy the vacation.”

“I am a king, I can do what I want. And if I want everyone to fuck off so I can care for my beloved husband who survived an attack on his life, I will make it so.” There was a hint of amusement in their voice as they gave him a nuzzle.

“What about...the assassins?” He would not be surprised if they were all dead by now, but he still wanted to know.

“The knights have them. We can talk about it later. I would rather kiss you and talk about how much I love you, if that’s okay.”

Quirrel managed a laugh as he relaxed against his spouse, feeling happy and full of love. “You know what? I would...like that very much.”

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

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Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Eleven

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Eleven: Soulmates

The summer afternoon drifted by peacefully as Luka and Adrien sat up on the deck of the Liberty, basking in the warmth of the sun.

Luka was trying to figure out the bridge to the song he was writing about Adrien while Adrien lounged in a nearby deckchair reading Sailor Moon.

Luka just so happened to look up and find tears streaming down Adrien’s cheeks.

“Hey. You all right?” he called in concern.

“Oh. Sorry,” Adrien chuckled sheepishly, swiping at the tear tracks. “I’m fine. Just thinking too much and being overly sentimental.”

Luka set aside his violin and pulled his chair over next to Adrien’s.

“Hey.” He rested a hand on Adrien’s forearm. “Don’t dismiss your feelings like that. That’s your father talking, and he’s wrong.”

Adrien’s gaze dropped to the manga in his lap. “It doesn’t feel like he’s wrong, though. I feel silly.”

“Talk to me?” Luka urged gently, trying not to press too hard.

It was a fine line to walk between supportive and pushy with Adrien. He wanted Adrien to open up to him on his own terms, because Adrien genuinely wanted to confide in him.

It was difficult, however, because Adrien was used to bowing to others’ demands, and Luka didn’t want to accidentally force Adrien into speaking because Adrien thought that that was what Luka wanted.

Adrien was a people pleaser and likely to steamroll over his own boundaries if he thought it would make others happy.

“Only if you want to talk about it,” Luka added softly, giving Adrien’s arm a squeeze. “I’m here for you, okay?”

Adrien bit his lip and turned to gauge Luka’s reaction. “…Do you… Do you believe in soulmates?”

Luka blinked and thought about the question for a moment before answering honestly. “I think they’re a lovely idea. It’s nice to think that, out there somewhere, there’s someone made especially for you…but I don’t actually think the world works that way.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, expression carefully neutral. “Why is that…do you think?”

Luka shrugged. “I’m also kind of a rebel. I don’t like it when other people make decisions for me, so I don’t really like the idea of the universe setting me up with someone without my consent. The choice of a life-mate is probably the most important decision you can make; I want some say in that.”

“Oh,” Adrien repeated, considering Luka’s points. “I mean…I can see that, but…what makes you think that they don’t exist?”

“Life experience,” Luka answered with a sheepish smile. “I’ve been in love a couple times, and there have been a few different people I could see making a life with. I read somewhere once that there were maybe twenty different people that any given person could be compatible with, and I think that’s true. I mean, off the top of my head, I can think of two people I’d consider as ‘soulmates’ for myself.”

Adrien’s expression darkened. He could easily guess that one of Luka’s potential “soulmates” was Marinette. The other, he suspected, was XY, and the thought made his stomach roil with jealousy and hurt.

“I think the idea of soulmates is nice,” Luka continued, missing the shift in Adrien’s mood, “but I don’t believe in them. I like to think that I make my own decisions. Besides, what about people who aren’t interested in romance or relationships? Do they just not have soulmates or are their soulmates more of a queerplatonic arrangement or…?”

Luka trailed off as he noted the sour look cutting into Adrien’s face. “I’m sorry. Was that the wrong answer?”

Adrien’s head jerked up. “What?”

“Sorry,” Luka repeated. “I didn’t mean to try to shove my views down your throat. And I could totally be wrong. I’m certainly not some kind of supreme deity or anything, so who am I to say that there’s no such thing as soulmates? I didn’t mean to insult you if you believe in soulmates.”

Adrien shook his head, waving away Luka’s concern. “No. It’s fine. You didn’t insult me. I just…”

He bit the inside of his lips, eyes tracing the picture on the manga cover in his lap. “I used to think that Ladybug was my soulmate. I mean…we were supposed to be ‘two halves of the same whole’ and all that, but…”

He shook his head again, a dark smile tugging at his lips. “It was just wishful thinking. She was never interested in me like that, and the truth is that the previous Guardian just randomly picked the two of us, so it’s not like it was some grand plan of the universe or anything. It was just luck and coincidence. I was fooling myself.”

“Adrien…” Luka whispered, tightening his hold on Adrien’s forearm.

Adrien looked up and slapped on a fake grin. “Besides, there’s no hope for a relationship with her now that it turns out my father was our arch nemesis this whole time. I’m a complete failure as a hero, Luka. I was living under the same roof as Papillon, and I had no idea for half a decade. There’s no way—”

“—Stop,” Luka commanded, standing and pulling Adrien to his feet as well.

The Sailor Moon manga tumbled to the deck, pages flapping.

“Just stop, okay?” Luka tugged Adrien into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

“Stop and breathe and quit being so mean to yourself,” Luka instructed.

The tension quickly flowed out of Adrien’s body, and he melted into the embrace.

“Marinette would never rule you out as a romantic partner just because of your father,” Luka stressed, wishing he could make Adrien see reason. “And you’re not a failure as a hero. How many times do I have to tell you how amazing you are?”

“At least once more,” Adrien chuckled mirthlessly into Luka’s chest.

“You’re amazing, Adrien,” Luka insisted. “If Plagg were here, he’d say the same thing. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t know about your father. How could you know when he always kept himself shut up like he did? You hardly saw the guy. No one can blame you for what happened. Marinette certainly doesn’t.”

Adrien nodded lethargically. “Yeah. I know. I just…it’s hard not to be down on myself.”

“Yeah,” Luka whispered. “Yeah, I know, but try to hang in there and think positive.”

Adrien made a halfhearted noise of agreement.

Luka squeezed tighter. “You’re going to be okay. You’re a magnificent person, P5, and, someday, you’re going to meet someone amazing who sees how special you are.”

“…Like how you do?” Adrien inquired, pulling back just enough to catch Luka’s reaction.

Surprise flitted across Luka’s face and was then replaced by a warm smile. “Yeah. Just like how I do.”

Adrien laughed, resting his head back on Luka’s shoulder. “No one sees the good in me like you do, Orpheus.”

Luka gave in and indulged himself a little by resting his head on top of Adrien’s. “In that case, I’ll be your soulmate, if you want. I mean, if no one else is vying for the position.”

“The job’s yours if you want it,” Adrien replied in a way that implied that he thought no one in their right mind would want the position.

“It’s funny how, just a month ago, I had fans willing to literally maim and kill for a chance to get close to me…but, now, no one’s interested,” he mused.

Luka shook his head. “Well, now you know who your true friends are, at least.”

“There’s not a lot of people left standing,” Adrien observed glumly.

“But the ones who are are good ones.” Luka tried to help Adrien shift his perspective. “You’ve got Nino and Alya…Chloé, Kagami, Wayem, Marinette, Rose, Juleka… And your classmates are sticking by you, aren’t they? The people who really know you are still on your side.”

“…Yeah,” Adrien agreed, slowly warming to the idea. “I guess you’re right…. And there’s you. I haven’t lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” Luka promised. “…Maybe we need to have some of your friends over. I know you call and text and go places to hang out with them, but you’ve been here almost three weeks, and you haven’t had anyone over yet. You should call Nino and have bro time.”

Adrien looked up again. “Really? That would be okay?”

Luka laughed. “You see how people regularly wander in and out of this houseboat. Do you think anyone would care if you had some friends over?”

Adrien considered this for a moment. “…No?”

Luka nodded. “No. No one would care. You should see if Nino’s doing anything and have him over to hang out.”

Adrien bit his lip. “Would you hang out with us too?”

Luka shrugged. “If you want me there.”

A bright smile stretched across Adrien’s lips. “Yeah. I’d like if we could all spend time together. I’d like you to get to know my friends better.”

Luka’s eyes widened as he was pleasantly surprised by Adrien’s words. “Yeah. I’d…I’d like that too.”

“I mean, you should know them if I’m going to marry you someday,” Adrien teased, pulling away with a wink.

Luka choked. “What?”

“You know. Since you’ve volunteered to be my soulmate.” Adrien scooped up his book and stuck out his tongue as he started to make his way back below deck.

Luka stared after him for a good minute as all kinds of metaphorical fireworks went off.

It killed him when Adrien flirted.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Lukadrien June 2021 #MLB #Fluff #Comfort #Soulmates #Slow Burn #Pining #Mutual Pining #Friends to Lovers #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Your Hands Hold Home

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everamazingfe · 4 years ago

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The Kumbaya Approach

Fic Summary: Trevor is the captain of his own ship and is in need of a new pilot when his old one abandons the crew. Fortunately, his trusty engineer Gavin knows of a good one. Unfortunately, the cargo he brings along with him is a little more dangerous than they anticipated.

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Words: 15113 Pairings: Michael/Jeremy, Trevor/Alfredo Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence and blood

Notes: This was written for the Secret Springfairy fic exchange in the @rtwritingcommunity discord for @doolray! This was a ton of fun to write, I hope you enjoy, and big thanks to @fornhaus for proofreading/editing! Check the source for a link to read it on A 0 3!

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“What do you mean you quit?”

“I mean I quit. I’m done with this bucket of bolts. Every day there’s a new problem, a new critical failure, a new busted part, and I’m sick of it! What kind of commander can’t get a handle on his own ship?”

“Hey! Those problems aren’t my fault, it’s the-”

“-The ship’s AI, right. Heard that one a thousand times. But they’re part of the crew, too. Which means they’re your responsibility. And if you can’t keep them under control and keep your ship in shape, I’m out of here at the next port.”

The arguments had gone on like this for several days, nearly a week now, and it was the same thing every time. Jeremy would yell about how he was sick of being on the ship and lay down blame for its problems, and Trevor would defend himself against the barrage of insults instead of trying to change the other’s mind. He knew that was a futile effort, and he knew better than to fight losing battles.

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold.

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.”

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam.

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

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There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point.

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-”

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.”

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.”

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

Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit.

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him.

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

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

The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat.

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack.

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well.

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them.

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full.

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you��re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

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

It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts.

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him.

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking.

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung.

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen.

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.”

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.”

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.”

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.”

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

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

The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops.

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at.

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.”

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts.

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up.

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

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

They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book.

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table.

“My… Offer?”

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.”

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind.

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?”

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside.

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on.

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away.

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.”

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

The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow.

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing.

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that.

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either.

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first.

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject.

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts.

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful.

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around.

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?”

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason.

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan.

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside.

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker.

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly.

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting.

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out.

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

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

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out.

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return.

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?”

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space.

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by.

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in.

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.”

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.”

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile.

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars.

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.”

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it.

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start.

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system.

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm.

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

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

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something.

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked.

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?”

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters.

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it.

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.”

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim.

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.”

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over.

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder.

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes.

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth.

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?”

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger.

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?”

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.”

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this.

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

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours.

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation.

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.”

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go.

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent.

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from.

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff.

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead.

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased.

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed.

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats.

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor.

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt.

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy,

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up.

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.”

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain.

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit.

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.”

��How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?”

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay.

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion.

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

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

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again.

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope.

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

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him.

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone.

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.”

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.”

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well.

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence.

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.”

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

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

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned.

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.”

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut.

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably.

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance.

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him.

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once.

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather.

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling. “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.”

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile.

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.”

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

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop.

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other.

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes).

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!”

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still.

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.”

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.”

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold.

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun.

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat.

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.”

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor.

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up.

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features.

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along.

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either.

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary.

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

#ragehappy #secret springfairy #rt writers #jeremichael #alfreyco #i hope those are the right ship names i have no clue #space au #oneshot #fic #fanfic #my fic #my writing #everamazingfe

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thebmatt · 3 years ago

Text

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #30: Abstracted

Abstracted – to have considered (something) theoretically or separately from something else.

I don’t like how I ended this one, but I was trying to wrap it up after midnight, so it’s a bit abrupt. I’ll likely work on it a bit more before I publish it in AO3 later.

“So those crystals, Aetherytes , you said? They allow you to teleport to any that you’ve previously attuned your aether to?”

Aleister Franks nodded. “Indeed. So long as your body has sufficient reserves of aether, of course. Tends to depend on how hearty you are, physically speaking, so adventurers and military folk may the most use of em.”

Gwenefyr Franks stared at the aetheryte. “Well…that’s pretty amazing. Something like this would have seriously cut into all those tips I made making portals back home.”

He laughed. “That it would. All right, now that you’re all attuned yourself, next stop on the tour, or perhaps the last stop, is right over there!”

Gwenefyr grabbed his hand and together, the pair walked eastward.

“Welcome to Bulwark Hall, the heart of the Mizzenmast, love. Originally built as a stronghold to protect the rest of the city from invasion. Elevators over there…” he pointed to the right of the central column of rock occupying the chamber “…will take us back up to the Drowning Wench once we’re done here, and further up to the airship landing we’ll be seeing tomorrow morning on our journey to the rest of the city-states. ” He pointed to the left. “Over there, that’s a direct lift to the Bridge, offices of Admiral Merlwyb and the rest of Limsa Lominsa’s governing officials. And sadly, much as I’d love to introduce you to the Admiral, the man guarding the lift there, his name’s Zanthael, and he’s a real stick-in-the-arse for only letting people with pressing official business in!”

Zanthael looked over to the couple, smiled, and tossed up a rude hand gesture.

Gwenefyr looked back to the doors to their right and left, both slightly behind them. “And what’re those doors for?”

“Um….storage I think? I’ve never been in, they’re always barred shut. Never even seen anyone guarding them, to be honest.”

“Then why is there a man waving at us from that one?“

Aleister looked to her, then followed her gaze to the door on their right, across from the Crow’s Lift. Sure enough, there was a roegadyn man there, clad in a Maelstrom soldier’s uniform. He was waving at the pair, and upon seeing he had both of their attention, gestured for them to follow. He then stepped inside the pair of doors and left one slightly ajar.

Gwen looked at her husband. “Do you know him?”

He shook his head. “No, but there’s a lot of people in the Maelstrom. Can’t imagine what he wants to talk about, though. Still, guess we’d better go see.”

“Lead the way, husband mine.”

The pair walked over and Aleister opened the door to let Gwen go through first, but as soon as it was ajar enough, the pair were both pulled into a shimmering blue portal by an unseen force. Their vision went white.

A few seconds later, both of them were able to open their eyes only to see that they were surrounded by what was definitely not the rock of the Mizzenmast, but instead a large chamber enclosed by what looked like ship bulkheads made of metal. Various technological devices, things that reminded Aleister of Allagan consoles and holographic displays were mounted all along every wall.

“Uh…where the hell are we?” Gwenefyr asked, sounding very concerned.

“I uh….I really don’t know, but unless the Admiral’s been keeping a secret treasure trove of Allagan technology concealed, I somehow doubt we’re in Limsa anymore.”

“We got pulled in, too. Just like I did when I found the portal that brought me here. Do you think that…”

He nodded. “It’s a logical conclusion. Let’s see if we can figure out where we are.”

“Or you could just ask”

Gwen and Aleister jumped, then quickly scanned the room. The voice had come from somewhere, but neither could immediately identify the source.

“Oops. Sorry for startling you. I’m actually not in there, though. I’m further in the….well, ship is probably the best way to describe this. I’m transmitting my voice from the bridge to you via a speaker. But enough about that. I suspect you want to know who I am and why I’ve brought you here, right?”

The pair looked at each other, then Aleister replied. “That would be correct. Assuming you don’t mean to do us harm.”

“Oh, no, not at all. But come, I’ll explain everything once we’re face to face. You should see some green lights on the floor, just follow them, it’ll take you on the most direct path here.”

Sure enough, a series of green lights illuminated the floor in an arrow pattern, which pointed to a section of the wall that slid down into the floor, revealing a hallway big enough for the pair to comfortably walk side by side. More green lighting illuminated the space within.

“You think this is on the level?” Gwen asked.

“I….think so. Whoever this is, this ‘ship’ of theres is packed full of technology more advanced than anything I’ve seen, now that I look more closely. This looks very different than anything I’ve ever seen from Allagan sites, and….I can’t explain it, but it just feels more powerful. Whoever this is, I think if they wanted us harmed, we’d never likely know it was coming. I suppose all we can do now is investigate.”

Gwen didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded and grabbed his hand again.

The pair ventured down the hallway. As they continued to walk, more lights further up the path illuminated. Aleister noted that there were no other spaces in the floor for lights, nor did they have any kind of a path built into the deck that led any of the other doorways he noted as they walked.

He was intently studying them for the few minutes they’d been walking when Gwen held him fast. He stopped and looked to her, but she pointed ahead. He saw a shimmering transluscent field was obstructing the path, generated by some sort of emitters lining the walls and ceiling.

“Oh right. Hold on a second, lemme disable that. That’s one of the ship’s reality reset fields. You pass through that and….well, it’ll essentially reset your form to, ah, what it used to look like. Pretty sure you guys don’t want that, and I don’t want to do it to you.“

The field shimmered and then faded out of existence. The emitters retreated inside the wall, a series of flaps closing over them.

They continued along the illuminated path until it came to a doorway. The lights ran up the wall and illuminated the shape of a pointing hand that indicated the closed door. The door opened to reveal a large dome shaped room, dominated by a massive viewport that covered fully half of the dome, outside of which they could see an entire world just hanging in the blackness. Parked in the middle of the room were a series of those strange advanced consoles arranged in an arch around a single utilitarian chair seemingly bolted to the floor and facing away from the pair.

Aleister was dumbfounded by the sheer spectacle, but Gwenefyr found her voice. “This is….incredible. What is this??”

The chair spun to reveal a man sitting in it. He was a hyur, or at least resembled one. He looked somewhat stocky, wearing dark blue pants of what looked like a utilitarian fabric, made as a mix of durable and comfortable, and a red shirt with an image in white lines that neither of them recognized. His short hair and longer beard were both dark in color, but going grey at the edges. Excitement could be seen behind his black-rimmed spectacles as he stood to greet them. “Hey, hey, there they are! Been looking forward to meeting you two for quite some time!”

He extended a hand, and both of them tenatively shook it.

“Who…who are you? What even is this place?” Aleister asked, still not quite able to stop himself from looking around.

“Hah, right on to business I see. Well, can’t say I blame you, this is probably a lot to take in. Well, let me start. My name is Brandon. As to what this place is, we’ll get to that. And as to why I extended this invitation to you? Well, that’s a real long story, but it starts with me telling you this: Like you, I’m not from this, ah…what’s the term you guys use here…Star, that’s it! Not from this star.”

That got their attention. Both turned to look at him immediately. “Are you…are you an explorer of some kind?” Aleister asked, a mixture of awe and a little hope in his voice.”

Brandon shook his head. “Not exactly, no. But, perhaps I should start at the beginning.” He gestured to the massive viewport, at the round image that dominated it. “You recognize this, I take it?”

“That…that’s Hydaelyn, isn’t it? From far away, as if viewed in the firmament of the night sky” Aleister replied.

Brandon nodded. “Very good. And this?” He reached outword, hands splayed open. Small blue cubes of light appeared around his fingertips and be brought them closer together in front of him. As he did, the image in the viewport changed. Hydaelyn shrank and other spheres appeared, smaller copies forming a circle of which Hydaelyn was a part, but with gaps in multiple places.

“Wait, I recognize that pattern from one of the texts Urianger gave me! Is that supposed to be…the shards?” Gwenefyr asked.

“Indeed! But now comes the kicker.” Brandon brought his hands even closer, and the viewport shifted again. The circle of worlds shrank and moved to a side and a whole host of other illuminated spheres, each with is own ring of smaller spheres forming their own circles, appeared.

Franks just stared, mouth agape. There had to be well over a hundred of the circles. “What….what are those?”

Brandon smiled. “That, my friend, are other Hydaelyns.”

Gwenefyr gasped as Franks whirled to face him. “You…you did it! You figured out how to do it? What’s the secret, what have I been missing?”

Brandon’s expression shifted into a frown. “We’ll….get there. Still a lot I need to show you. But first…” He brought his hands together fully.

The viewport shifted again. All of the Hydaelyns shrank further, displaying as a wedge, barriered by a line of light, and adjacent to it…were even more worlds, each marked by a barrier of their own, arranged next to each other as though they were part of a large wheel that only a small section of could be seen.

Brandon raised his left hand, only two fingers extended, and made a swiping motion to the right. The display of the wheel shifted, the wedge of Hydaelyns moving to the right and a new wedge with its own series of white lights. An electronic chimed intoned and text appeared on the viewscreen below the wedge.

“Azeroth” Gwenefyr intoned, somewhat breathlessly.

Brandon nodded. “Inside there is your original home….along with with thirty-seven different versions of the universe of Azeroth. Each unique and distinct from each other in a myriad of ways”

“And that, my friends, is the tip of the iceberg of what we like to call the multiverse. A grouping of universes, mostly alike in structure and history, with different versions of a vast majority of the same people found on all of them, but each with certain ‘key differences’ that make them unique. Divergent points in history, different people in key positions of influence or power, things like that. All of them represented by a single one of these wedges. Swipe to another wedge, and you have a set of completely different universes with a different set of rules, history, people, entirely unrelated to anything in another wedge, with their own different universes with ‘key differences’, and yes thats a technical term by the way.”

He extended his hand again and continued swiping. That same chime played with each swipe, and another wedge moved to the center, text appearing that neither of the visitors managed to retain.

“Just to give you an idea of how many of these ‘universal clusters’ there are, I could sit here and swipe once every second, and it would be twelve hours before I even got halfway.”

Aleister turned back to him “I have so many questions��”

Brandon held up a hand to stop him. “I know. But first, you need to understand who I am, or more accurately, who I represent.

“Uncountable eons ago, there was a race of beings, the original name of which has long been lost, who were incredibly technologically advanced. They discovered the existence of other universes and before long, developed a way to generate gateways that crossed the metaphysical barrier that lie between them all. They found a universe similar to their own, but with seemingly small but impactful differences between them. But like them, their neighbors were peaceful, dedicated to knowledge and cooperation for the good of all, and so they established diplomatic relations with each other, working together to benefit both of their peoples.”

“This cooperation proved boonful, and so they did it again and again. A central citadel, home of a dozen different gateways to differing versions of their universe, was established over time, allowing the best minds to collaborate with each other and advance their civilizations together, for the good of all. The completion of a new gateway became a cultural holiday known as ‘Opening Day’, People from all over the varying universes would get together with their own counterparts and celebrate.”

“Unfortunately, they made an assumption. Every universe they’d traveled to, while having some cultural or political differences to overcome, ultimately was not terribly different. Their race was still the dominant one of the world, and they ultimately wanted the same thing, to be brought forward into their shared age of enlightenment and reason.”

“The very last gateway they ever opened was to a universe dominated by a predatory insectoid species that every other universe had destroyed early in their recorded histories. In this universe, however, the insectoids had won. And over time, they’d evolved into a vicious hiveminded swarm that had consumed nearly all other forms of life on their world. And they….were hungry”

Brandon’s face grew somber. “What followed, as you can imagine, was a cataclysm. The insectoids poured through the gateway in uncountable numbers, consuming all in their path. And since all the other gateways were centralized in the same spire, they soon expanded into every other universe. growing in vast numbers as they consumed more and more biomass. The race had no weapons to stop them, they had evolved past a need for them, and so they stood no chance against the insectoid’s single unified mind driving their massive vicious forms.”

“It took only a few months before the race was all but extinct. The insectoids had utterly consumed their entire civilization and culture. I say ‘all but’ because some two dozen did survive, boarding a small number of experimental craft meant to traverse the inter-universal space that separated them. What they found was that there were no other universes belonging to their people. They were all that remained. But as they explored the rift between worlds in their ships, they found others. Nothing like them, but full of live and people of varying kinds. But they also found others where forces of destructive power reigned as well, forces that would consume other universes if they were to learn of them”

“They vowed that they would never let the mistake they’d made happen again. The multiverse was glorious, yes, but also fragile. It needed to be kept safe from itself. And so they would become its Sentinels, watchful protectors and guardians.”

Brandon looked between them both. “And that’s who I work for. The Sentinels. They employ agents from across the multiverse to keep a close eye on individual sectors, a small group of universal clusters. I have the responsibility of keeping watch over the myriad versions of both Hydaelyn and Azeroth, among others. And that’s why we’re speaking today.”

Brandon brought up the images of the Hydaelyn wedge on the monitor. “Now, for nearly everyone, travel between universes is simply impossible. They can’t even fathom that it exists. There are powerful entities in some that might have the capability to tunnel through the inter-universal rift, but again, our best advantage is that they simply don’t know it exists. We keep a close eye on these entities, but most of the cross-universe incursions we have to deal with happen spontaneously and on small scales. Small portals between universes will spontaneously manifest, and sometimes living creatures will get caught up in them. WHen they’re dangerous, we intervene. Agents, like myself, are empowered to recruit beings from these universes to travel to a universe that something hazardous from their own has appeared in, and deal with the problem. They go home, we agents come in and wipe the memories of anyone who saw anything, and life goes on for everyone. These assets then go on with their own pursuits until such time as they are needed again, if ever. They are sworn to secrecy about the multiverse’s existence, but otherwise we ask no other obligations of them.”

“However, your case was a different one, Aleister. In your case, you not only didn’t threaten the universe you ended up in, you ended up actively working towards ending the threat of that universes versions of the Ascians, who as you might imagine are on our “shitlist” of potential problem entities. I decided to watch and see what you did, and you did not disappoint. You kept your origins secret, for the most part, and made yourself an even bigger threat to them. Normally, a cross universe incursion signals us to destroy a spontaneously generated portal, we keep them open for study until that happens, but yours we left open as a result of your choices.”

He looked over to Gwenefyr. “What I absolutely did not expect was that, in her tenacity to be reunited with you, your lady love would also find that portal and go through herself. And while I am a romantic at heart who is thrilled to see you reunited and happy, unfortunately, you’ve told your story to an increasing number of people on your Hydaelyn, which has forced me to act.

Aleister tensed. “Act? To what end?”

“As I said, secrecy is our prime directive. The more people know, the more danger the multiverse is in. You’ve not only told a fair number of people in your version of Hydaelyn, but thanks to the portal’s presence, your version of the Exarch managed to summon heroes to help you from other universes. In every other universe, he summoned people from that universe’s shards. Not in yours. The same thing happened when Rheika used Azem’s crystal against Elidibus. She brought allies from yet another universe. And in both of those instances, those Warriors of Light became aware of the multiverse, opening more avenues for the knowledge to spread. We cannot have that.”

Franks threw up his hands in frustration. “But look at the good we did! The final two unsundered Ascians, defeated! Who knows what other good we could accomplish if the Warriors of Light from all of the Hydaelyns came together? How many more universes could we save from their Ascians, and how quickly?”

Brandon pointed a finger at him. “And this is why I had to sabotage your experiments, you don’t comprehend the consequences of what you are doing. You forget the lesson of the Sentinel’s origins, already! If we do that, then everyone learns of the multiverse very quickly, and then they’ll start trying to enter it on their own. Look at this!”

WIth a series of gestures, Brandon brought a small number of differing Hydaelyn-and-Shards rings into view. He pointed to one of them. “That one? That’s your adopted home. Hydaelyn-83, by our numbering.” He pointed to the closest one. “This one is Hydaelyn-82, your ‘neighbor’ metaphysically speaking.” Four figures appeared on the viewport. “Recognize anyone?”

Aleister looked at the figures. One was a dark-haired midlander woman, another was a dark-skinned rava viera. He recognized neither of them, but the last two, a red-skinned xaela woman and a dark-skinned elezen with purple and red hair, he did remember. “Yes, those two. That’s Toragana and Veilette, they helped us defeat Hades!”

Brandon nodded. “Just so. On their world, these four are the Warriors of Light. Unlike you and yours, however, they allowed themselves to be almost wholly defined by the traumas of their past and elected to use their power to ensure that none would ever control them again. They would utterly destroy any who crossed them, in the name of dispensing justice, including Gaius van Baelsar, who did not escape the Praetorium alive as he did in your world. Their relationships with the Scions and the leaders of the city-states was extremely strained, but it was Gaius’ own death that proved to be their undoing. Without him, Valens van Varro’s WEAPON project went unopposed in secret, and he unleashed them in a devastating attack on Limsa Lominsa, utterly destroying the city and killing three of the four Warriors of Light.”

Toragana and the two unknown women disappeared from the viewport.

“With her sisters dead, Veilette went into hiding with what few followers she had. Though she had killed the Unsundered, no one was able to stop Fandaniel’s plans from moving forward. Now this Hydaelyn is a ravaged battlefield between Lunar Primals and Garlean warmachina, with the rest of the world caught in the middle, hiding in what few pockets of safety remain. Would you go to that world and potentially expose yours to that danger?”

Brandon pointed to another cluster. “Or perhaps this one? Hydaelyn-72. On this one, the Ascians miscalculated. They rejoined the First with the source, empowering the Black Rose gas with all of that Light aether from the First, but it was more potent than they imagined. The gas was extremely virulent, sweeping throughout the entire world, turning everything it touched into Sin Eaters. Now that Hydaelyn is a death world, a barren wasteland roamed by beasts of light and choked by toxic air, while the Ascians wonder how to salvage their grand plan. Would you see someone inadvertently open a portal to that universe and see that toxic air claim another entire star?”

Both Franks looked on in horror. Aleister spoke. “I….I see your point. But could the Sentinels not stop such things?”

Brandon laughed. “We don’t have the numbers or the tech to stop entire armies in a fight or to contain a virulent toxic gas from spreading. There’s a reason we try to keep universes contained, and that’s because if we don’t, once it progresses past a certain point, we don’t have a way to stop it. And so we work from the shadows, clipping small problems before they get big and erasing memories so no one remembers any of it that we don’t want to.”

Franks clasped his hands in front of his face, as Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder. “So, you said you had to act because I came here. What happens now?”

Brandon crossed his arms, his expression softening. “Well, per our protocol, I’ve got two choices for you. Choice one, I wipe both of your memories of all of your time on Hydaelyn-83, return you to your Azeroth, and wipe everyone’s memory of ever having met you. I don’t want to do that one, I really don’t. You’ve proven a net benefit to 83, you really have, but I have to contain this. So there’s my second option, you two, along with everyone else in the Scions that you’ve told, officially sign up as assets for us. If something from a Hydaelyn threatens people in another universe, I ask you to help me deal with it, you do so. I should stress that this is not a common occurrence and when it does happen, it’s even more rare that it’s a really difficult threat. Otherwise you live your lives with the knowledge you have of the multiverse with no other interference, from us at least, so long as you don’t spread what you know. Just know that if you take that option, the portal closes too. You never can go back to your original universe.”

Anger emerged on Gwen’s face. “You can’t possibly expect us to make that decision on our own. We have to talk to them, let them decide for themselves! They need to know what we’re asking of them!”

Brandon smiled. “Already did that. Told them all everything I told you yesterday. Every single one agreed to sign up and keep what they know secret, but only if you chose to stay. They didn’t want you to not have the choice to ‘go home’ as Dahkar put it.”

Aleister looked over at Gwen, who nodded to him. “It’s not our home anymore, we already came to terms with that. If our friends agreed to this, then it’s pretty clear how much they’re willing to do to let us stay, So, we accept.”

Brandon clapped his hands. “Great! I’ll take care of everything else. Just remember, absolutely no sharing this knowledge with anyone else, and no more cross-universe gateway experiments on your own, okay? Awesome. You guys can head out through that door, it’ll take you back where you came in. And don’t worry about being seen, I put up a small field around that doorway that basically makes people suddenly remember far more important things whenever they look at it. No one should bat an eye at you.” He gestured to a newly opened door that Aleister was fairly confident was not there before.

He extended a hand to Gwen, who took it. The pair smiled at each other and walked out of the ship, not looking back.

They emerged from the same doors they’d entered in Bulwark Hall. As Brandon had promised, no one even looked twice at them.

Aleister sighed. “Well, that was….a thing. I guess we better get back to the Rising Stones and tell the other Scions what happened here.”

Gwen nodded. “You think we made the right choice? I mean, I know we committed to this already, but this…it’s kinda final.”

Aleister smiled warmly at her. “Now that you’re here and staying with me? Yes, yes I do.”

“Then let’s head home, my love.”

“All right! Ready for your first aetheryte teleport?”

Gwen smirked and began casting the magick, rising into the air as she did. Franks smiled, and followed suit.

The pair winked out of existence, heading towards their future.

#FFXIV 2021 Writing Challenge #Final Fantasy XIV #oldmanfranks #Aleister Franks #Gwenefyr Franks #multiverse

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 51 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Courtney arrived at Bianca’s penthouse and Violet met Sutan’s mother and neither of them burst into flames.

This Chapter: We dine. (Thanksgiving Chronicles 2 of ???)

***

“I thought,” Raja reached out, taking an empty chocolate wrapper from Raven’s hand. “That you didn’t like Beng-Bengs, Princess?”

They were sitting in the living room, three couches carefully arranged around a round coffee table, the sweet scent of incense in Raja’s nose. All the walls were filled with photos, the window stills overflowing with plants and flowers. She could hear her mom in the kitchen, Murni waving her away when she had tried to lend a hand, the fact that she was pushing 70 apparently not an issue.

“Shut up.”

Raja chuckled, leaning even further back on the couch, her arm around Raven’s shoulder. Raven had gone directly for the candy dish as soon as they had entered the house. The Beng-Bengs were a chocolate treat from Raja’s childhood, either her mom or dad always asking their family back in Indonesia to send some along whenever they received care packages.

Raven swallowed the last bite, reaching for the bowl to grab a kopiko, her girlfriend eating like she was possessed.

“Mmmh,” Raven moaned, closing her eyes as she bit into the chewy coffee candy.

“You know,” Raja turned her head, putting her lips against Raven’s temple. “Maybe, it’s time to consider if you want to continue doing swimwear.”

“Why?” Raven looked up at her, an annoyed expression on her face. “You think I can’t do it?”

“No.” Raja ran her fingers through Raven’s hair, the strands silky smooth as always. Raja didn’t want to make decisions on Raven’s career, those choices up to her brother. Sure, she always gave her opinion when Raven asked, and was always ready to guide her and help her, but at the end of the day, Raja prefered to have those lines in their relationship. “I just don’t know if it’s really worth it for you.”

“Raj-”

“All I’m saying,” Raja smiled, lowering her voice to make sure her mom couldn’t hear her, “is that it usually takes a good 45 minutes to make you moan like that.”

“Maybe the chocolate is just better than you?” Raven huffed, and Raja couldn’t help but laugh as she leaned in, stealing coffee flavored chocolate kisses from her fiancée.

***

“Hey munchkins,” Katya smiled as she reentered the kitchen, a box of decorations in her arms. “How is everyone doing?”

Katya had just spent the last 35 minutes setting up the living room, hanging a garland of Fall leaves, arranging her most impressive ever cornucopia, and putting out the special Thanksgiving tablecloth with little turkeys all around the edge that Trixie had made her for their first Thanksgiving together.

“You do realize,” Max looked up from where he was rolling out the puffed pastries, his back bent slightly so he could use the kitchen counter, “that we’re not actually children, right?”

“Speak for yourself-“ Pearl pointed at him with the potato peeler, yellow rubber gloves on her hands. “It’s so unfair I always have to peel the potatoes. I don’t even like them.”

“That’s because it’s the one job you can’t fuck up,” Trixie grinned, and Katya smiled at him, her fiancé standing at the stove with his ‘kiss the cook’ apron on, caramalizing the onions, a pumpkin ale next to him.

“I could stir onions.”

“You could,” Katya opened their pantry, where boxes filled with decorations for every holiday (except Christmas, which had its own basement storage unit all to itself) took up half the shelves. “But we don’t want another house fire.”

“It’s not a fire if it doesn’t leave the pan!”

Max snorted, and Katya laughed. “Sure baby, sure.”

“Is that Pearl whining again?” asked a voice in the doorway, and Katya turned to see Kim. She’d generously agreed to cook the turkey in her oven, since that would free up Katya and Trixie’s for the rest of the food, and had left to baste.

“Of course. How’s the turkey?”

“Your bird is looking moist and delicious,” Kim answered, and Max visibly shuddered.

“Must you use that word?” he asked, and Kim stepped up to him.

“What word?” she inquired, leaning right up to his ear, cooing a teasing, “You mean mmmoist?” directly into his ear.

“Gah!” Max cringed again, all of them giggling at his overreaction.

“Kimmy, can you start the pumpkin pie filling?” Katya asked, getting down the cans from the shelf and laying a recipe card on the table.

“Of course!” Kim picked up the card and looked it over while Katya bustled around the kitchen, pulling out the various spices and ingredients she would need.

“Ugh, she gets pumpkin pie?” Pearl whined.

“You want a piece of me, potato bitch?” Kim asked, and Trixie burst out laughing, repeating ‘potato bitch,’ softly to himself.

“Kids!” Katya clapped her hands and the whole group looked at her. “You’re all marvelous and essential, and I love you.”

“Gross,” Pearl said, but the smile on her face betrayed her words.

***

“Ha!” Sutan smiled triumphantly, the metal lid on the bird feeder finally popping open. “There we go!”

Sutan and Violet were out in the backyard, Violet sitting on the deck in a lawn chair, while Sutan had braved the moist Autumn grass to make his way to the big pear tree in the corner.

“Throw me the seeds, would you?” Sutan looked over his shoulder, Violet wrapped up in his jacket so she wouldn’t be cold since had forgotten her own in the car.

“The seeds?” Violet raised an eyebrow, but she still patted his jacket down, her eyes widening when she found a packet in the right pocket. “... Did you bring bird seeds with you from Manhattan?”

“Maybe?” Sutan grinned, catching the seeds in the air when Violet threw them. He hadn’t expected her to follow him into the garden, had figured he could slip away without anyone noticing, but while Raven had absolutely warmed up to VIolet, and his twin seemed to genuinely like her, he wasn’t exactly sure if Violet felt the same way about his sister and her fiancée.

“Is this a normal occurrence?” Violet was smiling, watching him with her brow eyes.

“That I fill the bird feeders?” Sutan got up on his toes, tipping the packet to fill it up about half way. “Or being in the garden?”

“Both?”

“My mom isn’t as young as she used to be,” Sutan shrugged, moving from one feeder to the next. “And she’s not very good at asking for help, so I always try to do something in the garden whenever I’m here.”

Murnis age was something he tried not to think about, something he tried to push away, the idea that his mom wouldn’t be there one day one of the few things that genuinely terrified him.

“It’s a very beautiful garden.”

“You should tell her that,” Sutan smiled, the complement sounding completely genuine. “She’s very proud of her marigolds.”

“She should be.”

Neither of them said anything for a little while, Sutan getting some of the last pears from the tree. He knew they had to go back inside, that his mom was probably putting the finishing touches on their Thanksgiving dinner, but he figured he’d maybe have time to take a look at the greenhouse too, Violet thankfully not the type of person who kicked up a fuss when he took his time.

“Did you grow up here?” Sutan turned around, Violet practically swallowed up by his jacket as she was cuddled up.

“No. When we got to America, my family lived in Iowa. This house is actually the first thing Raja and I ever bought, when we started making money. Our first piece of real estate.” Sutan smiled at the memory of when Raja had finally, finally, finally gotten the pay check that pushed them over the edge. “We still lived in a shitty one bedroom apartment in Manhattan, but we knew we wanted to do something for our parents. Wanted to make sure Ayah and Bunda had a good place to stay and for them to be closer.”

“Ayah?”

“It means dad. In Indonesian.”

“Oh…” Violet paused, looking at his face, and Sutan really hoped it wasn’t obvious how much it hurt to think about his dad. “He isn’t here, is he-”

“He died when I was 32.” It was weird that Violet didn’t already know, weird that she hadn’t stumbled on it yet since the gossip sites and magazines had certainly covered how it had wrecked both him and Raja, a simple google search enough to know his entire life story, but Sutan appreciated that she wanted to hear it from him too. “Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” Violet looked genuinely upset, empathy clear on her features.

“It’s okay,” Sutan forced a smile. “It was a long time ago.”

It didn’t feel like it, but that wasn’t Violet’s burden to bear, Sutan’s regrets of how he’d never get the chance to talk to his dad again and apologize his and his alone.

***

Once Courtney had a couple of drinks in her, she found herself forgetting to be nervous or uncomfortable about being in the fanciest apartment she’d ever seen, and just began having a good time with her bestie, enjoying Bianca’s generous hospitality and the attention that still made her heart go a little fluttery when their eyes met.

By the time Bianca appeared in the den again to tell them that dinner was ready, they’d abandoned the karaoke machine and were curled up on the couch, watching the parade, Adore’s head in Courtney’s lap.

“You guys ready for dinner?”

“Ugh, vegan Thanksgiving. I am not looking forward to this,” Adore grumbled, poking Courtney in the arm. “Did you know she was gonna do that? Get everything vegan?”

Courtney’s eyes widened--she wasn’t expecting that, not at all. She’d been surprised that the appetizers were vegan, but the whole meal? She looked at Bianca with gratitude and shock, asking, “Really?”

“Most of it. Adore whined so much about the stuffing that I made her some the good old-fashioned Cuban chock-full-of-meat way.”

“You did?!” Adore jumped up excitedly, clapping her hands.

“I did. I used Abuelita’s recipe.” Bianca cuffed her playfully on the ear. “Happy?”

“I take back everything I said, you’re still my favorite sister.” Adore slung an arm around Bianca’s shoulders as they walked down the hall. “You didn’t forget my Hillshire Farms, did you?”

“No, bitch, I didn’t forget your Hillshire Farms. I even put it out all nice on a plate so you don’t have to eat straight out of the package like you do at home.”

“Yaaas, sounds classy as fuck.”

Courtney was completely unprepared for the sight that met her when they stepped into the dining room. The table was laden with beautiful, vibrantly colorful Autumnal dishes - enough for at least ten people.

“Oh my god.”

Bianca looked over at her. “Something wrong?”

“No! No, it’s absolutely...just so much, I wasn’t expecting this. Are more people coming?”

“Courtney. You live in America now. And you know what Thanksgiving is all about?”

“Gratitude?” Courtney guessed, still overwhelmed at the spread.

“No, baby. No. It’s about coming together, and, whether you are hungry or not, eating until you can’t possibly take another bite. And then having dessert.”

Courtney laughed, taking her seat. “I guess I’m not fully assimilated, huh?”

“You’ll learn.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Try this. It’s the vegan version of Adore’s favorite relleno de pavo,” Bianca said, spooning some onto her plate, along with about five other things, Courtney quickly losing track.

She’d been to a family Thanksgiving dinner once before, during a short-lived college relationship with a guy who Adore had nicknamed “Wonder Bread,” and it was nothing like this: a meal of dry turkey, bland mashed potatoes, overcooked green beans in some kind of hideous mushroom sauce, and candied yams straight from a can. This meal was like something she’d get at a 5-star farm to table restaurant, fresh and delicious, somehow reminding her of her mother’s vegetable garden, something she didn’t realize she was missing so badly until she was tasting it. It was so good, she forgot to say anything, soon greedily gobbling up everything she could get her hands on.

“So...what do we think? Can I put the chef on a repeat list?” Bianca asked, and Courtney nodded vigorously, mouth full.

“I’m actually shocked how good this corn pudding is,” Adore said, mouth full. “Who knew vegan butter would be so good?”

“Well, vegan butter is margarine. And you’re garbage, so you love margarine.”

“I really do, man.”

Bianca laughed, chuckling slightly, finishing her wine.

“Anyone want another drink?”

“I’ll get it!” Adore said, rising from her seat.

“Thanks.”

Once she’d left the room, Bianca turned to Courtney, who was still gorging herself on all of the delicious dishes before her. She touched Courtney on the wrist, sending little tingles up her arm as she tried to quickly swallow the persimmon and kale salad in her mouth.

“Listen, I want to thank you for being so sweet with her, and looking out, you know? I know she pretends she’s a tough girl, but-she really needs TLC right now.”

Courtney wiped her mouth and answered, “Of course. She’d do the same for me. She has done the same for me.”

“Good. I mean, not that you...uh, needed, y’know-”

Courtney smiled, wondering if there was anything cuter than someone with Bianca’s self assuredness getting flustered and tongue-tied. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m just glad that someone gentler than me is there for her. You know, I’m not so great with the touchy-feely stuff.”

“I think you do okay,” Courtney said, unable to tear her eyes from Bianca’s. And then Courtney’s chest flooded with guilt at the next thought. A fleeting second where she imagined Bianca taking care of her, too. Fortunately, Adore came back into the room at that exact moment, two bottles of wine in hand, letting her shake the thought right from her head, reaching for a whole grain dinner roll to distract herself from it all.

“Bitch, I have never seen you eat like this,” Adore commented, laughing.

“Well, you’ve never seen me with food this good. Who was this chef, anyway? Can I marry them?”

“I’ll pass along the proposal. Although I’m not sure her wife will be too pleased,” Bianca said.

“I can share,” Courtney suggested sweetly, batting her lashes, making Bianca laugh.

“Or, you know...you can just marry someone with the resources to hire her whenever you want.” Bianca swirled the wine in her glass.

“Hmm...I don’t know anyone like that,” Courtney told her. “I run with a pretty low-rent crowd.”

“Pity.”

Courtney giggled into her plate, wondering if she should ease up on the alcohol, since that warm, light-headed feeling was taking over.

***

“Come on, come on,” Juju muttered to herself, digging through her bag, everyone's jackets piled high on her aunt's bed. She was looking for her daughter’s toy monkey, Julia falling outside and hitting her knee while playing with her cousins. She was okay, but she had asked for her toy, if only Juju could find it.

“Juju?” The door opened, and Juju looked over her shoulder to see her husband stand there, thankfully without one of their children on his arm.

“Give me a second-”

Detox closed the door, and Juju paused, her eyes narrowing. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” Detox grinned, his eyes sparkling with an almost predatory glee. “Oh, nothing.” He reached behind him, flicking the lock. “Nothing at all.”

“De-” Juju almost wanted to get upset, her entire family just outside, and she still hadn’t seen Julia’s knee for herself. “I have to get-”

“Your dad put a bandaid on her,” Detox smiled, walking over to her, and Juju couldn’t help but notice how good he looked, “and she’s watching TV with Kelly.”

“Ah.” Juju chuckled, her oldest an absolute sweetheart when her siblings needed her, even though she often tried to act too cool for school. “Well then-”

“Well then,” Detox walked into her space, “I think we have more than enough time.” He put his hands on her waist, pulling her in, her belly bumping against his hips.

“Time for what?”

“Time for this.” Detox leaned down, their lips meeting in a heated kiss, Detox lips tasting faintly like the Beerloa the Laotian part of her family loved.

“De-” Juju broke the kiss, trying to pull back. “We have to-”

“Come on,” Detox smiled. “Live a little. Not like you can get pregnant right now.”

“I hate you so much-” Detox gave her a peck, and Juju could feel her knees buckle, her hands going to his hips, her fingers grabbing the belt loops on his pants as she allowed herself to fall back on the bed.

***

“Okay well...vegan Thanksgiving was less gross than I thought,” Adore said, putting her head on the table.

“We’re glad you didn’t suffer too much,” said Bianca.

“I think it was fucking perfection,” Courtney said, a happy grin on her face as she scraped the last of the cranberry mousse from her plate.

“I mean, I’m not complaining,” Adore added, reaching for another apple hand pie, and after a pause, a second.

“Oh no? That’s a first,” Bianca chuckled.

“Well to be fair, most vegan food is crap. This was an exception,” Adore said, slathering her pies with what was probably quinoa-based whipped cream and taking another pumpkin blondie square for good measure.

“Mmhmm…” Bianca said, judgment dripping from her pursed lips, laughing when Adore stuck her tongue out. She then turned to Courtney, who had gently tapped her on the arm.

“Where’s your restroom?”

“There’s one right through there.” Bianca pointed, and Courtney smiled.

“Thanks! Be right back!”

Adore eyed her sister, watching her face, eyes glued to Courtney as she left the room. It took Bianca about ten full seconds before she realized that she was being watched herself. She turned to Adore, took in her smirk, and scowled.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just fun to see you bark up the wrong tree. Not used to you being rejected.” Adore rested her chin on her hand, popping a bite of blondie into her mouth.

“Shut up.”

Adore laughed. “No, it’s cool. Very humanizing.”

“First of all, I’m not barking anywhere, so you can put your little smug face away. And second...what makes you so sure I’d even be rejected?”

“Please.” Adore rolled her eyes. “I know my girl, Bianca. She’s straight.”

“Okay.” Bianca set down her coffee cup.

“I mean, if you got another seven or so drinks in her, maybe she’d let you-”

“Alright, enough. Now you’re being gross,” Bianca said testily.

“Sorry. But can I just give you one tip?”

“What?” Bianca asked, face stern.

“Tequila shots.”

Bianca tried valiantly to keep the cross look, but after a few seconds, she broke, dimples deep in her cheeks. She balled up a linen napkin and chucked it at Adore’s face.

Outside, the rain had let up, a few rays of evening sun breaking through the clouds.

“Hey, do you mind taking the dogs out for a walk before it starts raining again? Just a little one, they’ve been out to the terrace.” Bianca rose from her seat and began clearing some dishes from the table.

“Yeah, no problem.” Adore headed for the door, intercepting Courtney on her way back from the bathroom. “Come with me, we’re walking the dogs.”

“Oh...but doesn’t Bianca need help with the-”

“Nope!” Adore pulled her by the hand towards the door, grabbing their coats and strapping the dogs into their harnesses.

It wasn’t until they were safely outside when she finally felt comfortable giving her friend...well, not a warning exactly.

“So listen,” she began, and Courtney turned to her, head cocked. “I’m sure you already know this, but my sister is kind of a player.”

“Uhhh…”

“Come on. You must have heard stories.”

“I guess I have, but I–”

“It’s my fault. I should have…I dunno, I should have warned you about B’s weakness for pretty blondes. And I know it’s just your personality to be sweet and friendly and a bit of a flirt. But you’re totally gonna give her the wrong idea.”

Courtney bit her lip and turned away, and Adore felt bad.

“Don’t be embarrassed! I’m not saying that you’re doing anything wrong. It’s just...she’s not really used to people turning her down, so...”

“Right.”

Courtney didn’t seem to have much more to say, and Adore worried that maybe she’d offended her.

“I’m sorry, boo, but this is just something you have to consider when you’re the most charming, beautiful, kind, funny, smart…”

Courtney started laughing, cutting her off with a hug.

“I get what you’re saying. You can stop laying it on so thick.”

Adore smiled, then realized that her phone was ringing. She handed the leashes over to Courtney and looked at it, surprised at the name on the display.

The last one she thought she’d see, especially today.

Pearl.

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candy-floss-crazy · 2 months ago

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When I was learning to fly, there was another student I saw regularly called . A young girl mid way through her course. Occasionally she would turn up for a quick coffee in the pilots lounge with her young son in tow. He would do what most kids did, stick his earphones in and play on a game system. Talking to her she eventually told me that her son was autistic. She said that up to the age of about 5 he had never spoke a word and she was resigned to him not speaking. Then one day, she said, I was really struggling, and I looked up to the sky and shouted please god help me. She said my son looked at me and said god can't help you mummy he's dead! What a shock, turns out he had a full vocabulary and had just chose not to talk. Truth be told he seems a pretty normal kid, if you ask him something he will answer you, he doesn't seem particularly like he wants to engage with you, but then I don't think that's much different to most kids that age. I do know that there are different levels of autism and some kids function much higher than others. I think the problem is that the film Rainman, skewed the way a lot view the condition. Everyone expects them to have some savant level of genius. We used to do a job in a little shopping arcade in London, one of the shops was an art gallery for a guy called Stephen Wiltshire. It seems he can spend a few minutes looking at a scene, then draw it perfectly from memory. Less Able Bodied Access On The Fairground It got me thinking as to what issues people with some conditions faced on the modern fairground. I know various disability acts of law have meant that buildings and public places have been adapted to help. But I don't think much has been done on in the funfair industry. Truth be told, I don't think is is financially viable to have say a thrill ride adapted for wheelchair users. Perhaps some of the giant wheels would be credible. They tend to have sloping decks rather than steps, and the cars on many are probably large enough to allow a wheelchair in. But most of the modern high speed rides are built in such a way that it just wouldn't be possible to squeeze a chair inside the carriage. To make physical changes to a ride, it would then need to be subject to a 'Design review', a complex and costly process to ensure the ride is safe in its new form. Like many showmen I have helped transfer guests from their wheelchair onto a ride and back. Any operator would be more than happy to do that. I know it isn't ideal for the customer, and I should imagine it can even be degrading, but I am afraid that its probably the way it will stay. Special Nights Many regular funfairs, both large and small, will hold a special night for people less able. Sometimes its advertised and its a sort of free for all, other times the operator in charge will actually contact local organisations and make it a more formalised arrangement. I do remember one event, where a large group of guests turned up who didn't have physical disabilities. I am not sure of their actual condition, but they were all really big guys. They spotted a little ride, meant for probably 5-10 year olds and for some reason really liked it. The trouble was as 20 large guys all plonked themselves down heavily in the seats at the precise same time, the poor little ride just folded up on itself. To be fair, it was a ride called the Buzz Bomb, usually these were built almost as a diy ride, just after the war. They used the external drop tanks off of Spitfires, which had the tops sliced off and seats installed. I don't know if it ever actually made it back into use or it was scrapped. Autistic Sessions A number of events now are holding special sessions for autistic kids. They turn the music off on the rides, turn the lighting down, and reduce the speed so that they are not overloaded with sensations. They also keep a special chill out area available so there is somewhere to calm down if needed. Obviously this is something that any fairground can make happen. It doesn't require physical changes to the rides and can be organised easily and quickly. Helping The Deprived In addition to the less able bodied, fairgrounds will quite often distribute free tickets to the less fortunate. Those in care homes or schools in deprived areas. It does bring to mind one incident though. We were at a fair in Wallsend, in the North East. A social worker brought a young lad down for a night at the fair. Now, this kid had been nicknamed in the press 'Rat Boy'. There is a large dystopian structure called the Byker Wall. Its like a giant wall, but with flats built into it. It seems this kid had actually lived in the ventilation system. When a flat was empty he would climb through the ducts and rob it. The police had been after him for months and caught him the night before. Anyway, this social worker put him on the dodgems ride. He promptly drove the full length of the dodgems. Stopped the car at the other end, jumped out and ran away up a bank. Took the police another 6 months to recapture him. Reading a report, it seems they now call him Rat Man, as he is still on the rob. If you would like to hire dodgems or other funfair attractions for special needs use, talk to us and we would love to help provide a package tailored to your requirements especially for the less able. Read the full article

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littlegrrl7 · 4 years ago

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A Devil’s Heaven

Smutty excerpt Chapter 26

Ikemen Sengoku - Oda Nobunaga/OC

Spanking

---

“I see you are finally awake. I thought you’d sleep all day,” She sipped from a small brass cup and, with a smile, handed him one. He swallowed it and made a face at the thick bitterness.

“It’s an acquired taste.” She turned again as a wooden pole swung free on one of the lower decks. Her Chinese sounded harsh and barking compared to the lilting Portuguese or her pleasantly accented Japanese. Two men saluted her and got the pole under control, raising a smaller sail.

“Chiara—”

“Captain,” she corrected him gently but without a glance, her eyes still on the rogue pole on the lower deck of her ship. Nobunaga gritted his teeth.

“Captain, where precisely are you taking me?”

“To see the world with me, as you desired.” Her full lips curled upward, and he felt that tug in his groin. Dear spirits, what exactly happened last night? His gut rolled. It must have been that dark brandy. He put a hand to his forehead shading his sensitive eyes from the sun.

“Chiara, I don’t—”

“Captain,” she sounded vaguely annoyed.

“I have a country to run and citizens to care for. I can’t be flitting off with you to see the world.”

At this, she stopped, turning to give him her full attention. “Nobunaga, that is not what you said last night.”

He frowned, still trying to piece together the evening. “I—”

“You said someone named Mitsuhide and your man Hideyoshi could handle things for a while. I sent them a letter this morning before we cast off.”

“I said that?”

Now she definitely looked annoyed. Her eyes left his, scanning the boat.

“Matisse!”

The redhead looked up from where he was tying off some large ropes. “Aye, Captain?”

“You have command,” she barked, then brushed past Nobunaga, stating in a low voice, “my cabin, now.”

A few of the men looked from the first mate to their captain, then eyed Nobunaga speculatively. Low murmurs started.

“If you hens have time to gossip, then I guess we can send you over the deck for barnacle duty,” Matisse commented loudly as he moved to the upper decks. The men immediately clammed up and got back to work. He eyed Nobunaga curiously.

“Did you overstay the party, Lord Oda?” He smirked.

Nobunaga turned to follow Chiara to her cabin at the rear of the ship.

She motioned him through the door, her lips pressed tight, then closed it firmly behind him.

“Speak.” Her eyes were flinty, his narrowed.

“Chiara, last night. I can’t recall all of it. I remember we came back to your ship, we had sex. Then we drank and talked and—”

Spirits, he had lapped brandy out of her navel. And then she poured it over his cock—

“And?” She eyed him in annoyance.

“And I honestly don’t recall saying I could leave with you. I expected to disembark the ship this morning before you left the harbor.”

“Well, it’s a little late for that now. We’ve been underway for hours.”

“Hours?” his voice rose, alarmed.

“You said, and I quote, ‘let those layabouts take care of the country for a while, I need to conquer the world with my beautiful Captain.’”

“Layabouts? Chiara, I have never in my life used such a word.”

“You were quite drunk.”

“So, perhaps, you shouldn’t have taken my oaths as truth while I was intoxicated.”

“You were quite adamant.” She smirked.

“You need to turn this boat around and take me back! I have responsibilities. I have a summit to be at in less than a month!”

“Tides out, we are already underway,” she clipped as if that explained everything.

He sighed, holding his head. “Chiara, do you recall when we first met, you were concerned that I would simply take you as my own, giving you no choice? You are doing precisely that.”

She frowned at this, then gestured for him to sit in her chair.

“Is it so terrible?” She asked, straddling his lap, her breasts brushed seductively against his chest through the thin cloth. She still smelled heavily of rich brandy and the tobacco they had smoked. Was she still drunk?

He had been smoking?

“Chiara…”

“Is it?” Her lips were so soft, caressing his neck, then covering his mouth. His mind drifted in the pleasure of it. Nobunaga brought his hands to her shoulders.

“How are you even sober after last night?”

She shrugged, lacing her fingers through his hair. “Come sail with me Nobunaga, I’ll show you the world.”

He let his hands slowly slide down her back to cup her hips.

“Chiara, there is nothing I would love more, but I have to make arrangements first. I have nothing packed with me. I’ve left no direction for my men. You can’t just steal me away.”

“It appears that I can because I have,” she countered playfully. Her hips shifted enticingly on Nobunaga's lap, making promises of encasing him in a tight, seductive heat.

He growled.

“You need to take me back.”

“I don’t need to do shit. You are on my ship. I make the rules here.”

“Oh, do you?”

Suddenly she was lifted into the air. He took three steps and tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed.

“The crew is loyal to me. What are you going to do about it, Nobunaga? Tell me I’m a bad girl? Scold me?” Her eyes lit dark with glee as she turned to him. Chiara’s hands were already at the buttons of her blouse. That gap fell lower, exposing her breasts.

“That is exactly what I am going to do. You seem to have forgotten your manners, Captain .” His eyes roved over her, and then his hand shot forward, flipping her face down, a mass of golden hair in his fist. He pinned her, the weight of his palm to her shoulder blades. “If you want to act like a naughty girl taking what she wants instead of asking nicely, then that is how you will be treated.” His other hand came forward, yanking her pants down to her knees, exposing the ample round curve of her ass. He noticed a perfect ring of purple teeth marks on her left cheek.

His teeth marks, Nobunaga groaned and his cock gave a hard, lurching throb.

He gave her a few light slaps watching the flesh of cheek roll enticingly with it. His hand went to his buckle, katana sheaths hit the wooden floor as they slid off his belt.

“Wait, Nobunaga!” Chiara squirmed. She tried to twist to see what he was doing when the first crack of leather hit her skin. She squealed.

The second strike hit, and she screamed. Then the searing heat of his tongue soothed the abused flesh. His hand squeezed, palming her right cheek rolling it gently.

“I’m waiting for your apology,” his voice wavered somewhere between pissed off and aroused.

A string of Portuguese came out so virulent he was certain she was swearing. He raised his belt again.

Crack.

She panted angrily. “You bastard. I—”

His tongue soothed over the abused skin again, and Chiara slumped into the mussed bedding with a moan.

“You?” His large hand rubbed a warm circle on her reddened skin.

“I am not sorry for stealing you from a life you could no longer stand to be mired in!”

“Mouthy girl.” The leather cracked against her flesh again, sending it into a tantalizing jiggle. He followed it up with rhythmic light slaps that had her moaning and writhing despite him still having a firm grip on her hair. Chiara clenched her hands in the bed sheets.

“Stop,” she gritted out, not even trying to look back at him. Nobunaga paused, then raised the belt again. The silence spun out brittle between them, with only her panting breath filling it.

“You know what word to use if you desire for me to stop.” He dragged the leather slowly over her abused flesh. Waiting.

Chiara went quiet.

He adjusted the grip on her hair, softening it just slightly. She turned her head just enough to look back at him. His eyes locked with hers. Those dark blonde lashes fluttered as they stared each other down, neither budging. Nobunaga traced his belt over the soft skin just below her cheeks. Chiara licked her lips, leaning back into it.

“Harder.”

His dick throbbed confined by his hakama. Dear spirits, this woman would be the death of him.

He cracked the belt three times across her ass, relishing the high-pitched cries, the way her back arched as she leaned into it. He glanced down and saw her arousal trickling down her thigh. With a groan, he released her hair to spread those cheeks and taste her. She bucked and twisted on his tongue, and he kneeled on the bed, putting a hand under her to lift her hips higher. His fingers brushed up her back once again to grip that mane of hair.

“More?” he growled the question into her skin.

“God, Yes!” It was more of a high pleading whine coming out of her throat than anything commanding. He raised the belt.

The door opened.

“Captain, is everything alright in here?” Matisse stepped into the room, and his mouth gaped in shock.

Read more on A03 https://archiveofourown.org/works/28048281/chapters/68713227

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen nobunaga #oda nobunaga #ao3 fanfic #smutty spank

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navigatrixnarrations · 4 years ago

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A Matter of Some Urgency (version)

Because my brain is Like That, I dashed off another version of the first meeting of our disaster pirates, this time from Hope’s perspective.

As always, bigger-than-life appreciation for @whenimaunicorn. Her incredible The Heart of Admiration series thus far can be found here.

Word count: 1679

Warnings: None

Hope Wickham pauses outside the tavern. She is not fully convinced that she’ll be able to save the lives of her crewmates. For that matter, she is not entirely certain she’ll leave this meeting with her own life, but she has to try. To her shock, her crew elected her quartermaster, a position to which she had most certainly not nominated herself, and now it’s her duty to protect them as best she can.

When she asked her old friend DeGroot to set up an urgent meeting with the captain of the Ranger, the man had made a wry face. “Ready to move on from Fisher, are you? Find work with a captain who has true technical sailing skill?” She shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to let on her real purpose but not willing to lie to him. DeGroot, she knew from her apprenticeship, is not one to give compliments easily or falsely. “True technical sailing skill” is as ringing an endorsement as anyone could ask for.

“What manner of man is Captain Vane?”

DeGroot looked thoughtful. “I’m sure you’ve heard his reputation as a brute and a brawler, and it’s well-deserved, but he keeps his word. Sailed with Teach for years. Respects skill. Deals fairly with those who deal fairly with him. You wouldn’t be the only woman on his crew.”

He returned shortly after with the message to meet Vane at the tavern, as soon as she could get there. And so there was nothing for it but to trust DeGroot’s assessment of the man, square her shoulders, and try to make an entrance to remember.

Years on the account had taught Hope that dealing with other pirates as a small-boned woman requires a certain amount of swaggering bravado. She flings open the tavern door, cocks one hip out, and stands there for a moment, silhouetted, as she scans the room for a man matching the description DeGroot had given her. Ah, there he is, watching her approach his table in an alcove at the rear of the room. She feels an unexpected jolt in her stomach as she locks eyes with him, but this wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to ignore her nerves, would it.

"Captain Vane?"

He nods, and she continues. "I'm quartermaster of the Starling. I believe you're expecting me." She removes the pistol and long knife from her belt and places them on the table in front of him, a sign that she has come in peace.

He gestures for her to sit across from him and signals the barmaid to bring her a drink then gives her a hard look from beneath his brow. "What's this about?" He could sand the deck with his voice, she thinks, but it isn’t unpleasant to the ear.

"A certain item of yours has come into my possession. I'm here to return it to you." She hands him a burlap sack containing his black. She had been appalled when a couple of the more rambunctious members of her crew came back to camp having stolen it from the Ranger. It wouldn't do for them, new to Nassau, to start their time here by making an enemy of the most notoriously violent captain on the island.

Vane looks inside the sack to examine his colors. Hope had ensured it wasn’t damaged, and she had folded it carefully. When he comes to that conclusion as well, he turns that heavy gaze back to her. "What do they call you, quartermaster of the Starling?"

She meets his piercing stare with her own, unflinching. "They probably call me a lot of things when I can't hear them." She is sure she sees him suppress a smile at that. So the man has a sense of humor beneath that steely demeanor. Good. She holds out her hand for a shake. "Hope Wickham."

"Why did your captain send you, Miss Wickham, instead of approaching me himself?"

She frowns, but doesn't rise to the bait. "He didn't send me," she says coolly. "He has no idea any of this happened. I'm meeting with you of my own accord and in my own capacity to try to protect my crew."

Vane’s silence as he sips his ale has a pointed quality to it. He’s waiting for her to elaborate.

"I may be new to Nassau, but I'm by no means new to the account. Captain Fisher and the rest of the crew are used to doing things a certain way, and don't yet understand that Nassau has rather different understandings of acceptable behavior for those under the black than does Tortuga. On Tortuga, this would be seen as a prank by a new crew seeking to position itself and a score easily settled without much bloodshed. Unlike them, I know that is not the way of things here."

Vane narrows his eyes. "How do you know how we do things here?"

"I apprenticed with Mr. DeGroot. We stay in touch." The corners of her mouth turn up in a wry smile, unable to contain her amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "I realize that he is nobody's first, second, or tenth choice for a tutor in etiquette, but," she gestures broadly, "we live in a world of wonders."

She’s gratified to see Vane smiling back at her, ever so slightly. It changes his entire face, and she can almost imagine that they are having a friendly drink together. "So you're a trained navigator, then?"

"I am."

He also seems to remember that this is not a social call. The smile drops from his face, which returns to its forbidding scowl, and he hunches forward enough to give the impression of looming over her without getting up. For a moment she wonders if he’s going to lunge across the table and attack her. "Members of your crew snuck onto my ship, stole my black, and they did it so badly that someone saw them getting away. So let me tell you what happens next."

Hope has learned to never, ever show fear when facing down a man, so she doesn't quail from his ferocious growl, from his coiled posture that makes him appear to be a predator about to pounce. Only long practice allows her to meet his icy glare directly. "Who saw them?"

"My quartermaster and his matelotage." Is he taken aback by the question? He’s clearly a man used to being obeyed. Yet he answered her...

She tilts her head, considering. "Anyone else?"

Vane grunts and leans back in his chair. "No."

Hope nods to herself. "Can you trust their discretion?"

"With my life." She sees him follow the course she’s plotted with her questions. "You're going to ask who else on my crew knows it was gone."

She shrugs as if to say you caught me. "Well, who else does?"

"Only them." She opens her mouth to speak but he cuts her off. "Regardless, you know I cannot let your crew's insult go unanswered. I’ve a reputation to maintain, a captaincy I do not intend to lose."

"Nor do I expect you to. However, by returning your black undamaged, along with compensation for the," she pauses and bites her lip, considering her next words, "inconvenience you've been put through by this unfortunate breach of propriety, I trust this need not be a killing offense." She takes a bulging coin purse from her coat pocket and pushes it across the table to him.

Vane opens it and quirks a scarred brow at the amount of coin within. "Is this from the Starling's collective savings?"

"No. It's my personal share from our last prize." It had been a lucky take, that last prize, larger than most of the Starling’s, but there’s no reason to tell Vane that.

He places both hands on the table and leans forward abruptly. Hope feels her eyes widen as she assesses the threat and she quickly schools her expression. Vane’s voice drops to a near-whisper that puts her in mind of a cat’s purr. "My turn to ask the questions. Who else knows that your crew had my black?"

She leans forward as well, close enough to take in details of the trinkets braided into his long hair. "As far as I know, nobody." She keeps her voice as low as his, matter-of-fact. "My crew hasn't bragged, because they didn't get a chance to parade your colors on the beach. I made certain of that. And they won't now, not after I've relieved them of it. The ones who took your black are young and foolish. I've revoked their shore privileges for the time being, until they can show they won’t be shitheads to other crews if they come into town." Oh, they hadn't liked it at all, being returned to the Starling to assist the carpenters with some much-needed repairs to the ship while their brothers celebrated the take in Nassau, but they stopped complaining when Hope explained in a reasonable tone that the alternative was approaching Vane themselves to return his black. Or perhaps they wished for Vane to seek them out?

Vane’s expression turns pensive for a moment as he mulls over what she told him. "They know you're returning it to me?"

Hope forces herself to continue to meet that intense blue stare. "Yes. If they don't like it, they can elect a new quartermaster. However, they agreed when I explained my reasoning as to why keeping it would not be in their best interests."

"And DeGroot. Does he know why you asked him to arrange a meeting?"

"He didn't ask. I didn't tell." She lets out a laugh at the memory of DeGroot’s dismayed yet proud expression when he thought she was going to work for his captain’s foremost rival. “I let him think I'm here to ask you for a job, just to irritate him."

A long moment passes as she watches Vane weigh his options. Has she convinced him?

He pushes the purse back across the table to Hope. "Keep it. Buy the next round and we'll call it square."

#charles vane x oc #charles vane x ofc #whenimaunicorn #black sails fic #the heart of admiration fic #charles vane imagine

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crystalgirl259 · 4 years ago

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The Flame and the Dragon Ch8

Chapter 8: The Proposal

Kai suddenly jumped out of his skin and stumbled into a heap on the floor. After untangling himself, Kai shook his head and found himself on the kitchen floor. His book lied open on the table and the chair he'd fallen asleep in tipped over when he stumbled. A loud knocking against the front door sent obnoxious vibrations through the entire house. He punched the floor in frustration. It took all his willpower not to destroy everything within two feet of him.

It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep reading a book, but it was the closest he'd ever come to seeing his dream lover or kissing him.

The obnoxious pounding on his front door only increased his already burning fury. The furious brunette stormed to his feet and stomped to the front door before unlocking it and throwing it open. He intended to take his rage on the idiot foolish enough to wake him from such a wonderful dream.

"WHAT!" He bellowed. Then his jaw hit the floor, out of shock more than anything else.

"Why hello darling," Morro flashed a seductive smirk, swaggering into the house. The duke's swagger wasn't in any way surprising; in fact, Morro visited the Smith's home frequently in his attempts to either seduce Kai or bribe Nya into a marriage contract. The fact that he'd invited himself in wasn't a surprise either. Being the Duke, he would claim it was his own right to be allowed in. Dismissing of him would be a direct insult and utter rudeness.

What shocked Kai to the core was that this time, however, and only this time, Morro had arrive draped in nothing but a wedding suit and was holding up a gorgeous, white-laced wedding dress to the brunette!

It was clearly tailored for Kai. Heck, it even had his full name stitched on the tag. The dress left the top of the shoulders uncovered, but didn't cover the sides and flows down into an elegant plunging neckline. It's a relaxed fit which makes the dress look comfortable, yet elegant and stylish. The arms had been left uncovered. A choice that added to the elegance and grace of the dress. The dress's waist was wide, but it was a comfortable fit. A small, elegant belt helped accentuate the waist without being too much.

Below the waist, the dress widened and has a bell style.

The dress reached well above the ankles and was slightly longer at the sides and back of the dress. The final touch was the white veil embroidered with flowers. At first, Kai was too shocked to say anything, but once his head cleared enough to think straight, he turned to the duke, glaring.

"Morro... what a pleasant surprise." He kept his voice civil solely out of respect for his relatives. The words rolled like poison off his tongue. Misinterpreting this as a sign of approval, Morro smiled a smile that curled at the corners.

"I'm sure." He brushed up against the brunette, leaning in close, causing Kai to take a step back. His green eyes flashed like a siren about to seduce its prey. It was a miracle of Kai's will that he hadn't already thrown the duke out of the house. He exhaled a breath when Morro pulled back and looked around his home. He sighed with disapproval. "Why do you live in this God-forsaken house, Kai? It's so... small and plain, and it's in the middle of the woods?" He complained.

Kai clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, his face was red with rage.

"I like my house; it's more than enough room for me, Nya, and Lloyd and we actually quite enjoy the walk to town and the woods; Nya finds it inspirational." He answered, doing his best to keep his voice civil.

"I wasn't asking if you tolerated it." Morro snapped, strolling towards him again. "I was saying..." He began until he caught his reflection in the hallway mirror. He stopped and smirked at the handsome god in the mirror, and ran his hand through the jet black locks, and straightened his bow tie. Kai scowled in disgust. Morro was as shallow as a puddle. Once the Duke was finished entertaining himself, he strolled back to Kai in that seductive swagger the brunette was beginning to hate more and more.

"I wasn't asking if you could tolerate it, darling, I simply meant that you deserve more." He smirked as he brushed against him causing him to take a long step backward. "Surely, you've always dreamed of something better than this?" He purred and Kai raised an eyebrow at this. He dreamed of getting out of this rat hole and of what he could learn, where he could go, and what he could see. Not what house he lived in. It took all of Kai's willpower not to roll his eyes.

Only Morro would care for something so frivolous.

"And what exactly do I deserve?" He demanded, expressionlessly, crossing the room to return to the kitchen. Morro's smile curled, taking a step towards Kai.

"You, my darling, deserve the best and only the best."

"And what is that." He asked, his neutral mask refused to fade.

"A grand, beautiful home filled to brim with treasures and endless elegant rooms." He swooned, brushing up against him again. Kai stepped back but Morro stepped forward. "A high title and position worthy of your status, the respect, and admiration of all the people around you, a house full of servants to wait on you hand and foot and, of course..." His fingers danced up Kai's chest, making him shiver in horror. Kai gripped the table, resisting the urge to grab the man in front of him by the neck and throw him out the window.

Respect for his family forced his temper under control.

"You need a spouse; someone who is gorgeous, educated, well-respected, highly thought of, someone who has known you your entire life; to ravish you each and every night and spoil you with whatever your heart desires." He grinned and Kai swore his skin turned green when the noirette said ravish. He couldn't even concentrate on the rest. By some miracle, he managed to hold his stomach and worm his way out of his grasp, unable to listen to Morro's ridiculous delusion of his wishes anymore.

Again his gift of words failed him, unable to find a world revolting enough to describe the spoiled and selfish dream world Morro was creating.

"And you know who that woman would be?" He asked as he cut him off when he escaped into the hallway.

"I can't even imagine." He retorted, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Me, darling." The duke said gleefully, in a voice so giddy, it would make even the strongest of men, sick to their stomachs. "And all it takes is one little question…" He growled seductively as he pushed himself up against the brunette, as he skillfully backed up until he felt his back hit the front door.

"Morro, are you asking me what I think you're asking me?" Kai gulped as his amber eyes almost bulged out of his skull in a mixture of anger, shock, and disbelief. Morro's eyes turned dangerous with impatience. The noirette braced his arms on either side of Kai trapping him between him and the front door, and never in his life had Kai cursed his short height more than he did then.

"You aren't very bright are you darling? Let's be clear then; I am going to marry you!" He exclaimed and his eyes lowered seductively, as he moved his face closer, not noticing Kai's free hand wrap around the doorknob.

"I do have something I want to tell you," Kai smirked, feeling morally obligated to all humankind for the good deed he was about to do. Smirking in victory, Morro closed his eyes and leaned forward waiting for Kai's lips to meet his. "OVER MY DEAD, ROTTING BODY!" He suddenly shouted in burning rage. A sharp turn of the doorknob and dodge to the left by Kai and Morro was so overcome by surprise. He screamed when he stumbled through the door and straight into the mud that had been acuminating after last night's storm.

The once stunning white wedding dress he had been holding was now completely ruined by the sticky brown mud.

A band suddenly roared to life, until a series of collective gasps filled the air. Kai felt his jaw drop. The entire town stood in front of his house dressed in tuxes and ball gowns. A gazebo, decorated in white roses with a priest holding a bible standing beneath it, stood at the edge of the property. A red carpet covered in white petals led from the gazebo to a few feet from the mud where the duke had landed. All the eyes of the town folks were glued to either Morro or Kai.

A few people glared at the brunette with jealously, while some were in tears.

Even a large, delicious-looking wedding cake had been placed in the center of a silk cloth-covered table and surrounded by goblets filled with red wine.

"You arranged an entire wedding behind my back?" Kai growled shaking with fury. All control vanished in a single instant. Furious amber eyes bore into Morro like pools of fire. "Get. This. Through. Your skull. Morro." He spat his name as if it were poison. "I. Will. NEVER. EVER. MARRY. YOU! Now get off my property and FSM help you if you come back because I will not be responsible for my actions!" He roared. He then slammed the door shut, sending the entire town into shock.

Morro's screams of fury were the last things he heard before he bolted through the house and out the back.

He crashed into the side of the deck, panting uncontrollably. Shock, anger, disgust, and a dozen other emotions burned through his veins all at once, consuming him and making it impossible to think straight. He couldn't even speak coherently or even say the word. The very realization was too horrific for his mind to comprehend. He knew full well what Morro wanted, but the man lived and breathed formalities, and that dictated one had to ask permission of the parents first then ask the person to marry them.

Morro was not bold enough to defy the traditions that dictated his place in society, only because they gave him all the power he wanted.

He had dropped hints, made advances, and whatever else to persuade Kai to marry him. But he had never shown up at his house demanding he accepted his proposal. The fact he'd arrived with a wedding dress and had the entire town outside his front door as if expecting Kai to marry him that second was even worse! Kai couldn't stand being the idea of being the husband of that pompous asshole. He jumped over the railing of the deck and bolted across the yard, so fast, the fields vanished under him and the trees were a blur.

He didn't stop.

It wasn't until he found himself skidding in the dirt, barely stopping in front of the pond and falling back into a bed of daisies and dandelions in their cotton form, that he finally calmed himself down enough to think. Kai panted like he ran a marathon. The blood still accumulated in his face, but his color was still pale. Tears streaked his cheeks, purely from shock more than anything else. He didn't know what was wrong with people. He grabbed his head and screamed as loud as he could in frustration, but only because he knew this far from town no one could hear him.

He didn't feel better once he stopped.

He felt embarrassed. Still, he fell back against the field and calmed himself down, wishing more than ever he'd given in to Lloyd's demands. Once he's calmed down, he sat up, bunched his knees against his chest, and buried his face in his hands. He wanted out of this God-forsaken dirt farm not to be trapped in it and being married to the duke until death did they part. He knew no one in this stupid town would accept or see him as anything other than what they wanted him to be.

They only saw him as another part of their perfect unspoken plan.

No one cared about his wishes or what he wanted. They only cared about how he fitted into their provincial grand design. He knew that would be the case since the day he arrived, but it still. How could it not when everyone around you drills and hammers it into your skull that who you are and everything about you is wrong? Kai wiped the tears from his cheeks, refusing to cry or shed a single tear for the town he'd been forced to call home. He couldn't even begin to imagine how much Vincent was writhing in his grave for what Morro did to the place.

Or who much his parents were kicking themselves for leaving the twins and Lloyd to fend for themselves.

Kai promised himself that he was getting out of there. He didn't care how did it or when. He was getting out of that place and was never coming back. His hand soon discovered a stem and he turned to it. A dandelion stood there. Its cottony seeds were in full bloom, ready to be swept away by the wind. A childish game of making wishes and blowing on dandelions flashed in Kai's mind. He carefully picked the stem and twirled the cottony blossom in his hand.

It was a silly thing to do, really, but at that moment it seemed right.

"I wish for someone to understand me; someone who will love me for who I am and nothing less." He wished before taking a large intake of breath and releasing it over the seeds. The cottony seeds dispersed in an instant sending strands fluttering into the distances, carrying with them his deepest wish. A sudden high-pitched cry broke his serenity. Kai's eyes widened in recognition. Sitting up, his fears were confirmed when a brown blob charged straight for him.

It was their horse, Flame, still attached to the caravan.

Kai was on his feet in a second. He bolted to the stallion. Flame skid to a stop, clearly not wanting to hurt his master, the cavern rolled and jolted forward then back in response. Kai grabbed the reigns and stroked the stallion, speaking soothing words until the horse was calmed. Flame's intelligent eyes gazed into Kai's sadly. The brunette's heart plummeted when he noticed the horse was missing its rider and no one was inside or on the caravan.

Panic swept through him as he turned to the stallion, with terrified eyes.

"Flame, where are Nya and Lloyd? Did you lose them? Are they hurt?" He asked the horse desperately. Understanding the boy's fear, Flame neighed loudly before gesturing his head back towards the forest. Taking in the boy's bewildered look, the horse tried to move as far as the caravan would allow towards the path he'd come from as if telling him to follow. Understanding what the horse was saying, Kai's eyes widened. His hands grabbed the reigns tying Flame to the caravan and he viciously untied the knots and set it on the floor.

He bolted across the field, charged into the house, and grabbed his black winter coat off the hook, and threw it on over a long-sleeved red shirt and black pants.

He pulled on his riding boots and grabbed the scarlet scarf Maya made him before running back outside. The stallion was still waiting for him and gestured for Kai to climb on. Once the rider was settled, with a flick of the reigns the strong horse took off. Determination fired Kai's blood at the thought of the only family he had left lost in the woods, alone and without help. The townspeople made no effort to hide their fears when it came to the large, frightening forest.

They had all heard nothing but horror stories about that place.

Dr. Saunders had once told to the siblings that many of the townsfolk believed the stories of a cursed family who used to rule these very lands over a century ago before a wizard cursed them. Dr. Saunders told those stories in an effort to convince people that stories were meant to entertain and not believe. The superstitious residents believed them nonetheless. Even Ray warned the siblings never to venture too deep into the woods.

"Go Flame!" Kai commanded, waving his hands in the reigns. Detecting the urgency in his voice gave Flame the sudden burst of speed he needed until the horse found himself in a familiar forest clearing. Sunlight had dipped beneath the trees lighting the darkness of the forest with an orange and violet glow.

"Is this the place?" Kai asked the horse. Flame neighed in response. Heaving himself over Flame's side, Kai slid down from the saddle and look around. The horse sniffed the ground for any traces of Nya and Lloyd but the storm had washed away most of the trail. Anything to indicate the direction Kai's siblings went was covered by rivers of mud and a carpet of leaves from the storm. Kai swore, bending down to examine the ground. The rain had washed a mountain of mud over the area, burying any traces of footprints that might have been left behind.

His eyes meticulously scanned the forest floor, for any clues as to what happened, until he finally left the road and searched the bushes.

His hand suddenly found something smooth and tough almost like leather. With a flutter of hope, Kai gripped the cloth and ripped it free from the branches and mud on top of it, and shook it open. He recognized the material instantly. He growled as he clutched Lloyd's coat so hard his knuckles turned white.

"They were here, Flame, and if I know Nya, if they're lost in a storm the first thing going through her mind is finding shelter, especially if Lloyd's hurt." He told the stallion. The horse nodded in agreement, before sniffing the ground again. Slowly, he started to walk, following whatever was left of the scent. Kai followed, searching for any sign as to which direction his siblings must've gone. A loud neigh knocked Kai out of his thoughts. Flame grabbed his scarf with his teeth and pulled the brunette teen toward another path in the woods, before gesturing his head to the path.

It was different from the others.

Unlike the dirt paths caked with mud and overgrown with plants, this one was smoothed and made of fine cobblestones. Small plants and weeds were dotted it but the ground remained in place and that was when Kai saw them. Footprints made from boots, sinking thickly in the mud, symbolizing the owner was carrying some extra weight when the prints were made.

"Flame, you are brilliant!" He laughed as he hugged the brown horse's neck, before climbing back on. With a snap of the reigns, the horse took off, following the path and the prints deeper and deeper into the woods, until at last the woods came to an abrupt end. The path led to an enormous gate of rusted black iron standing so profoundly. A grey cloak lied past the gates on the side of the road where its owner must've collapsed. Kai dismounted gracefully, pulling on Flame's reigns until his fingers intertwined with the bars of the gate.

His family was there.

They had to be. His eyes followed the path all the way to the end. His amber eyes bulged in stunned awe.

"It can't be..." He whispered as shock and disbelief reeled through his entire being. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "That's... not possible."...

#The Flame and the Dragon #beauty and the beast #parody #ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #ninjago jay #lavashipping

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