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smmahamazing · 4 years ago

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Rounding out your Valentine’s Day with one last fic for the @inudayoflove2021 !!!

Summary: It’s White Day. Inuyasha and Kagome have been dating for a month, and Inuyasha has planned a nice evening for the two of them. Except Inuyasha has something a little sweet prepared for Kagome in hopes of getting a little steamy with her. What happens when Kagome has a similar idea? Set in the Cowboy Blues Universe. Rated E for smut.

Let me tell you, this chapter has truly taken it out of me. This is my first foray into writing smut, and y’all that is hard. But in the end, it’s been worth all the trouble in the world. Next month exactly will be ONE YEAR since I started writing. And that’s kind of crazy to me. I have six posted stories with an entire google drive of wips that scream at me day in and day out LOL. All because of a little White Day one shot that grew into a 23k story, with another 8k of one-shots, all set in the same universe. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate than with Inukag’s first time! Thank you so much to @clementinesgulag , who has also drawn a very sweet 😏😏😏piece of artwork for this chapter, and I’m so excited for y’all to see it!!! If you haven’t already, check out all the different fics with the Day of Love Collection on AO3!

Anyways, I’m dedicating this chapter to all you guys out there. This fandom has been an amazing part of my life this past year, and I’m so happy to be involved with such a great group of people. This past year has been crazy, but you guys have been worth it. I hope you all enjoy!!!

A special shoutout to @underwater0phelia for helping me with a few trouble sections! You're the greatest darling❤❤❤

Inuyasha loved routine. More specifically, he loved routine whenever his brain started to think too much about certain subjects.

Today was Mr. Tanaka's quarterly oil change. Mr. Tanaka had been a loyal customer dating back to the first week he had officially opened his doors for business. He told Inuyasha that he reminded him of a younger version of himself, and that he was happy to see a young man such as himself take a risk into opening his own business. Mr. Tanaka's kind words had really helped motivate Inuyasha through the good times and the bad times that first year, and so to thank him, Inuyasha gave the older gentleman a fair discount on any and all services, and let no one else service the vehicle.

Over the years, Inuyasha gained enough employees that he really didn't need to service any of the vehicles that came into the shop. He dealt with enough paperwork and general bureaucratic shit that, most days, he willingly let the boys take care of the line up.

But days like today were nice. Fantastic, really. Loud, heavy alternative rock blared through the speakers of a giant stereo as Inuyasha made quick work of the tiny honda. It was easy for Inuyasha to get all wrapped up in the monotony of his work. Today, Inuyasha had been more anxious than usual, so he decided to go ahead and perform a full diagnostic package on Mr. Tanaka's car. The extra work would help keep Inuyasha's mind focused.

The problem was that White Day was next week, and Inuyasha had absolutely no idea what to get Kagome. They had only been dating for about a month and Inuyasha was struggling with the decision of how grand of a gesture he wanted to make.

When he was growing up, the giving norm was usually either chocolate or candy, and sometimes flowers depending on the relationship of the giver towards the recipient. Given the short amount of time they had been together, chocolate seemed like a good direction to head towards, but Inuyasha had been overanalyzing the entire situation for several days now.

The main reason for his anxiety came from his already deep feelings for a girl he's only known for a month. Inuyasha truly enjoyed talking to and spending time with Kagome. They were constantly texting each other; asking a variety of questions about their lives and the things that they thought defined them. Random pictures broke up the mass of their text bubbles. Kagome had been given leeway from her boss to experiment with all different kinds of cakes, so practically everyday was an image of a new cake, decorated all cutesy for the romantic holiday.

The rational part of his brain told him to just get her a nice box of chocolates and flowers and enjoy a nice evening together. But Kagome deserved more effort than just purchasing a random box of chocolates. An ideal gift would be to make her something - she seemed like the type of girl to love homemade gifts - but to Inuyasha, the idea was….daunting, and a little embarrassing. Inuyasha knew enough about cooking and baking to just get him by, but he didn’t feel confident enough to make something for a woman whose career was based on cooking and baking. Not like Kagome would laugh at him or make fun of anything he made, but it was an insecurity Inuyasha couldn't seem to shake when put in front of his professional girlfriend.

It didn't help that the irrational part of his brain wanted to give her something more than just chocolate.

Despite being together for about a month, they hadn't had sex yet. Not because neither of them didn't want to, they just …never brought the subject up. The more they talked, the more Inuyasha began to realize how much he liked her, and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize the easy going relationship they had now.

In reality, he just didn't want to scare her off by demanding sex. Nor did he want to demand sex from her, he just wanted things to happen naturally. Before he knew it, a month had flown by.

Several hours passed before Inuyasha finally decided he couldn’t keep Mr. Tanaka's car in the shop any longer. He dragged his feet to the hand washing sink, taking his time to scrub the grease from his hands and the dirt off his forearms.

Mr. Tanaka always came first thing in the morning before most people were functioning enough to stop by, so the waiting room had several more people in it then when he started working on the car.

"Mr. Tanaka," Inuyasha announced, grabbing a free computer at the front desk to pull up the service information. Mr. Tanaka stood with a smile on his face and walked up to him.

"She's all good I assume?"

"Yup, fit as a fiddle. Gave her a good once over, which is why it took a little longer than normal. On the house."

"Ahh, Inuyasha my boy, you're too good to me."

Inuyasha chuckled as the computer calculated the total, and he prompted Mr. Tanaka to insert his credit card into the card reader.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Inuyasha asked.

"Oh, I'm going to spend the afternoon with the grandchildren, maybe go out for a stroll and a banana split at the nice ice cream joint not far from my house. How about yourself?"

"Just take out for me and my girl tonight, nothing exciting,"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, " Mr. Tanaka said with a glint in his eyes. "Every evening with your woman is special. "

Inuyasha snorted at his statement, grabbing the receipt that just finished printing and giving it to the older man. "Alright old man, I'll see you in another three months."

"Alright then, Inuyasha. Don't work too hard now!" Mr. Tanaka says with a sly look on his face. Inuyasha merely rolled his eyes at the joke the older gentleman made every time he brought his car in. Inuyasha always thought him a strange man; despite doing good business, not everyone wanted to stay and chat with a hanyou, but Inuyasha tried not to think about it too much. If his mother was alive, she'd say something about how "people can always surprise you" or "there's still good in the world, Inuyasha". He tried to think about those theoretical statements when he was faced with an actual nice person.

With Mr. Tanaka's car finished, Inuyasha walked back out to the garage to finish cleaning up his station. There was some paperwork to be done, but he was hoping today would be busy enough to justify him working on the floor instead.

'Maybe a little snack first,' Inuyasha thought as he held his hand up to his rumbling stomach. Now the only question was, sweet or savory? Mr. Tanaka and his grandkids were still on the edge of his brain, thinking maybe Kagome would be up for getting a carton of rocky road tonight to share.

That was when the idea hit him. It came in small bursts, just split second images his brain conjured up to give him an idea of what it would look like. It was something Inuyasha had never done before. Kikyo kept their sex life pretty...vanilla. Not that this idea was all that out there, but the whole thing would definitely feel a little odd to someone who really only used the missionary position in his last relationship.

It was definitely something Inuyasha would probably like - just the thought of it was already starting to wake up his lower brain - but would Kagome? Would she misconstrue the situation somehow? Would she be into that kind of thing?

One thing was for certain; Inuyasha needed to continue this line of thought in his private office, not amongst all his employees. He found his assistant manager and confirmed their current appointments for the next several hours before locking himself in the office to come up with ways to make this little "idea" of his work.

~~~

It was just starting to get dark when Kagome pulled up to her normal spot at Inuyasha's apartment. She killed the engine as soon as she put the car in park, but didn't make a move yet to open the door and make her way over to his apartment. This way, Kagome wouldn't be able to chicken out or drive away. Eventually, the cooler air outside would make its way in and lower the temperature in the car, prompting her that her time to sit around has come to an end.

Kagome didn't even know what she was so nervous about anyway. It was going to be just another date night with Inuyasha, perfectly normal and entertaining.

‘Oh yeah, because showing up at your boyfriend’’s house in nothing but lingerie is definitely normal,’ Kagome thought, shifting around in her seat a little and making herself much more aware of exactly what she was wearing and why.

She had been dating Inuyasha for just about a month now, and they had yet to “do the deed”. Which, if she was honest, Kagome wasn’t sure if that was odd or normal for a relationship. Her past relationships had been so varied, ranging from sex on the first date to no sex at all, or even pretty much only sex with little to no substance.

Kagome didn’t think it was because he didn’t want to. They had been texting back and forth practically everyday since their first date at that ramen shop. Inuyasha even made it a point to come to the diner for lunch just so they could see each other - which totally didn’t make her heart flutter, no siree. They just hadn’t really had the...opportunity to express their interest for each other in that way yet.

The plan for tonight was to just have a simple dinner at Inuyasha’s, and maybe pop in a movie during dessert. Very relaxed and extremely intimate. It was actually Kagome’s idea of a perfect date. Sure, going out to eat together is always nice, and spending the day out and about can create a lot of great memories, but she craved the closeness one could get when you were comfortable in your own home.

Kagome had some slight alterations to go with their evening plans It was simple: walk inside, seduce her hot boyfriend, and fuck him into next week. She still wasn’t sure where dinner and a movie fell between it all; she was just going to have to wing it. Earlier in the week, Kagome had made a stop at the mall and purchased a most alluring piece of lingerie.

It was a fairly simple garment, which was good because Kagome couldn’t even begin to wonder how she’d get into some of the lingerie she looked at. She was pretty sure some of them could double as their own sex toys. In the end, she chose two different colors of a two piece bra and panty set - one in red, which she was currently wearing, and one in green, her favorite color. It was made from a soft silk with floral lace borders around the edges of the cup of the bra and the elastic of the panties. Overall, it was a very comfortable fit, which is what greatly prompted Kagome to purchase two.

However, the real stars of the show were the crotchless panties and the cupless bra.

Despite its simplicity, it was the raunchiest piece of lingerie that Kagome had ever purchased.

It was still chilly outside, requiring her to wear her purple peacoat to and from the car, but the only other piece of clothing Kagome wore was a random slip dress she found buried deep in one of her dresser drawers. She was actually pretty sure it was meant to go over your bathing suit when visiting the local swimming pool or beach, but with only three buttons and a waist tie, the garment was perfect for easy removal. She rounded out the whole outfit with the most expensive pair of black stiletto heels she owned, and hoped that Inuyasha didn't question its...quirkiness.

Well, she was wearing an old pair of boyshorts over the crotchless panties, but Kagome just felt too awkward driving without a proper pair of underwear on.

'Alright Kagome, time to get your butt in gear,' she thought, giving her cheeks a few good slaps to motivate her. With a deep inhale, she carefully shimmied out of the boyshorts and tossed them into the backseat before grabbing her purse and stepping out of the car to walk towards Inuyasha's apartment.

She knocked on the door, running her hands through her hair to fix any errant strands the wind may have moved. After about thirty seconds, she could hear Inuyasha's muffled reply to ‘come on in’, like he was on the opposite side of the apartment. It was unusual of him - he never failed to greet her at the door the few times she had been over - but she reminded herself they had only been dating for a month. Plus, he was probably still getting things ready. No big deal.

He must have anticipated not being quite ready for her arrival, seeing as the door was already unlocked. She quickly stepped in and locked the door behind her, taking off her coat and hanging it, along with her purse, on one of the hooks beside the door. She forewent taking her shoes off though, since they were a part of the whole 'fuck me' look she was attempting to pull off.

Looking into the living room, there were a few extra blankets and pillows stacked on the ottoman, but nothing looked particularly different. The apartment was always pretty clean due to Inuyasha's sensitive nose - he had a hard time dealing with dust - although it looked like he did a quick wipe down throughout the room not that long ago.

Inuyasha didn't have a space set up for a dining table since he normally ate by himself , but he had taken the time to set up a couple of placemats for them at the bar that separated the kitchen and living room. Each spot had its own dinner plate, salad bowl, utensils, and wine glass all ready to be filled. Placed on either side of them and in front of them were three long candlesticks in their own respective holder.

The whole scene put a soft smile on her face as she tenderly touched each piece. She had yet to see Inuyasha, but tonight was already turning out to be the perfect date. It was obvious to see the work he put into making this dinner special for them. The plates looked like they came from his own cupboard, but she was pretty sure he went out to buy candles to set the mood.

Kagome was beginning to get a little anxious to find Inuyasha, but the smells coming from the kitchen were strong enough to tear her away from her search. There were a couple of pots on the stove over a low flame. Nothing smelled like it was burning, but what kind of cook would Kagome be if she didn't take a quick peek at some unattended pots?

That's what she told herself, anyways, as she slowly lifted the lid to the pot on the right hand burner. The pleasant aroma of tomatoes and garlic filled the immediate area, and Kagome inhaled it deeply. Inside the pot was what looked to be meatballs, simmering in a homemade tomato sauce. Kagome took hold of the spoon being used to stir the sauce and snuck a quick taste.

She closed her eyes, groaning slightly in satisfaction. The sauce was tangy and savory, a hint of sweetness found in the aftertaste. Kagome might have been the professional chef between them, but Inuyasha never gave himself enough credit when it came to his own cooking. Growing up as a hanyou, he always had to be careful with foods that could possibly be too spicy or over seasoned, and he learned that it was sometimes better to just cook your own food.

Not to mention the fact that there were few things more attractive than your boyfriend cooking a meal for you.

Kagome set the lid back on the pot to go looking for the hanyou in question. She hadn't seen Inuyasha since she came in, and a quick peek behind the balcony curtains told her he wasn't outside either, which left the bathroom and bedroom.

There were three doors down in the back hallway. The first door on the left - which was left open and clearly empty - was the bathroom, with a small storage closet directly across from it. Kagome walked right past both doors in favor of the closed bedroom door; the storage closet was small and cramped, not big enough to fit even the small built Kagome inside with the door closed, and so, inconsequential to Kagome's mind.

She stood in front of the bedroom door, suddenly nervous now that the sight of cooked food couldn't distract her. She still had no idea how tonight was going to pan out, or how Inuyasha would react to her advances. Kagome took another deep breath to relax her shoulders, making herself stand just a little bit taller.

She was a Higurashi after all, dammit! Known for their stubbornness and determination, there was no obstacle they couldn't climb. In fact, there was nothing for her to be nervous about at all. She was an attractive woman, he was an attractive man. This was just the natural next step that many people took in their relationships, and damn it all, she was gonna seduce the hell out of him.

Yet, she wasn't expecting the sight that laid before her as she opened the door. At all.

Her breath hitched as wide eyes landed on Inuyasha sprawled out on the bed.

Completely naked.

Well, was he considered completely naked if his dick was just barely covered? It was an errant thought that crossed her mind, despite how unnecessary it was at the moment.

Kagome didn't think she'd ever seen a sight as glorious as Inuyasha, propped up by a couple of pillows, one arm bent behind his head, the other laying across his stomach. She had yet to see Inuyasha without a shirt on, and found she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bulging muscles in his arms, or the rippling six-pack he sported. He looked like he could have been carved by Michaelangelo himself, an Adonis covered in whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and caramel, topped with a bright red maraschino cherry on top.

Kagome was sure she was about to develop a sweet tooth of her own.

She took a quick second to notice the overall look of the room. He had the same long stemmed candles placed strategically around the room, offering the only source of light. Beside him on the bedside table was all the fixings - the chocolate sauce, caramel, whipped cream, even a jar of strawberry jam.

'Oh my God, is this what he meant by having banana splits for dessert?' she thought, remembering the text conversation they had as she was getting ready earlier. Inuyasha hadn't told her what he was making for dinner, but he had asked her if she liked banana splits. Which she had replied to him that of course she did, who didn't?

Well, one thing for sure was that she'd never look at a banana split the same way again.

Neither of them knew how long she had been standing there for, but Inuyasha was getting more nervous by the second. She hadn't said anything when she entered the room, just stood there staring at him with this weird look in her eyes.

The last five minutes had been stressful for him, to say the least. Inuyasha hadn't wanted to put the whipped cream on too soon and have it start melting on him, so he waited until he could hear her soft knocking at the front door before getting himself all set up.

He had no idea how long it would take Kagome to make her way to the bedroom. She was far too curious for her own good to just sit out there waiting for him, but how many things would distract her on her way to the bedroom was the real question. Still, as soon as he heard the front door close, he got to work, covering his very erect penis with the whipped cream - just the thought of what her mouth would be doing to him soon was enough to get him going - and using deft hands to flourish it with the chocolate and caramel. He saved the cherry for the moment right before she opened the door, not wanting it to slide off and ruin the masterpiece he had concocted.

Surprisingly, he wasn't all that nervous as he was getting ready. It was when she finally came in and just stared that set his nerves on fire. What was she thinking? Did she like the view or was she trying to figure out how to get out of the situation entirely? He didn't really know what her scent smelled of when she was aroused, so he felt like he was walking into the fire blind.

He couldn't take it anymore. The silence was killing him, he was sure of it. He didn't know what he was going to say to her, but anything was better than nothing.

"Kagome,"

Hearing her name must have startled her from her own thoughts. She looked at him now - really looked at him - and what he saw in her eyes was pure determination.

Inuyasha didn't think he had ever been so terrified in his life. It was at this moment he realized that he really didn't know all that much about Kagome. Sure, they had been talking back and forth, constantly texting about their favorite movies or the places they like to frequent or comparing allergies, but that was just the small stuff. He had no idea what this look in her eyes meant.

And then, she showed him.

If he was worried about what she thought about his "gift" to her, her next actions put those thoughts to bed.

She slowly unbuttoned the dress she was wearing, sensually untying the waist tie until it opened and floated to the floor, bearing herself to him.

Inuyasha had to stifle the urge to whine. He had never seen a sight as alluring as Kagome, standing before him with her hair down over her shoulders in a bright red lingerie set. This wasn't like any lingerie set Inuyasha had ever seen. The cups to the bra covered the tops of her breasts more than most bras might, but he had a clear view of her dusky pink nipples poking through a set of holes in each cup.

The candlelight put the most tantalizing shadows against the muscles in her arms down to her toned calves, which was exaggerated even more by the black high heels she wore. And as his eyes wandered up and down her body, he was pretty sure they were crotchless, judging by the shape of the panties.

His first thought was that she looked like a snack, but he'd be lying - she was a whole goddamn meal.

"Is this for me?" she asked, walking up to the end of the bed, jutting her hips out with each step.

It sort of felt like an out of body experience, like she had control of her body but also not at the same time? Every step to the bed was fueled by a slowly rising arousal. Her mouth was beginning to water; she hadn't expected to do dessert before dinner, but she supposed she could break the rules just this once. After all, it would be rude to not immediately accept this most generous...gift.

"Ye - yeah," Inuyasha answered, trying to sound suave instead of like some virginal teenager. He wasn't so sure he was succeeding, but Kagome didn't seem to mind as she continued to get closer to him, bending down to lean her hands against the bed, giving him a fantastic view of her chest.

He couldn't control the twitch in his cock as she began to fully lift herself onto the bed. Kagome didn't miss it either, giving him a devilish smirk as she crawled her way to him. It made him feel like prey being stalked by a predator, which was a weird change in his bedroom dynamics. He had always been the more dominant party when he was with Kikyo, but he was finding that he didn't mind the change all that much.

Not when a beautiful woman like Kagome was looking like she was going to devour him.

And that was exactly what she planned to do.

Kagome gingerly put her hands on his calves, causing Inuyasha to take in a sharp inhale. He hadn't been expecting her touch, and it made him take in a sharp inhale. He expected her to dive straight in, but she leaned over to the right side of the bed instead, bringing her bare nipples dangerously close to his face.

Inuyasha turned his head away slightly and closed his eyes, not sure if he could stand to look at her much longer before losing his patience and having his way with her. The bed shifted back to normal a second later, and Inuyasha opened his eyes to find she had grabbed the chocolate sauce and the jar of caramel.

Kagome desperately wanted a taste of him, but she also wanted to make this whole experience last. She wanted to tease and torture him until he couldn't take it anymore and took her instead.

"Do you mind getting a little sticky?"

Inuyasha's eyes started to darken as her plans for him slowly became clear. So she wanted to tease him a little, huh? That was fine by him. He was sure he'd let her do whatever she wanted.

"I'm your blank canvas Kagome,"

'Smooth'

Inuyasha watched her face flush at his words and he subconsciously opened his chest up in pride at being the one to cause it. She looked so cute flustered, and he couldn't wait to see it again when she was underneath him.

Kagome took his words to heart and opened the top to the chocolate sauce. Moving over to his left side for a better angle, she started at his face, taking the bottle and carefully squeezing it over his skin - over his lips, on the apple of his cheeks, on his nose, sculpting the jaw.

And then she started moving downward, dotting all down his neck, not wanting it to run too much given the angle. When she reached his chest, she began drawing intricate lace designs over his pecs. Inuyasha could see the absolute focus in her eyes as she drew, almost as if she had done this before. She worked in a restaurant, and Inuyasha was pretty sure he remembered her saying she even did some baking, so she most likely had done this before. On a cake at least.

When she was done with the chocolate, she grabbed the jar of caramel and began painting him with that as well. Inuyasha had taken the honey dipper from his mother's old honey jar to make it easier to decorate with, and Kagome used it to accent the major chocolate work on his skin. She took extra care covering his nipples and belly button.

Kagome was about to get to work when she looked up and realized she had forgotten to take the strawberry jam. She went all out on covering his chest, so that was a no go. She scrunched her face up a little, thinking about what she could do with it, when suddenly the idea hit her.

"Hand me the strawberry jam?" she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes at him.

He did as she asked, going as far as opening the jar before handing it to her. She tossed him a sweet smile before taking hold of his left hand and dipping each finger into the jam. She gestured for him to take the jar back, watching him grab it with his free hand. She wanted until right before the jar was going to hit the table, and took his thumb into her mouth.

Just as she thought would happen, the jar clattered onto the table, the strange sensation of Kagome sucking on his fingers taking away all brain functions.

Inuyasha had never had someone suck on his fingers before, and if you had asked him prior to tonight if that was something he'd be into, Inuyasha would have probably answered with a scrunched face and a "hard no". Now though? He could see the pros.

She thoroughly cleaned his fingers, wrapping her tongue languidly around each digit and sucking hard enough to feel the blood flow temporarily stop. Inuyasha couldn't keep in the low moan as he imagined her using that tongue in the same way on his cock.

She gave him a break by starting with the chocolate on his face next. She pressed the flat of her tongue against each cheek, using the tip to sensually lick the chocolate off his nose and along his jaw, ending her explorations of his face with a sweet kiss. It was slow and wistful, sweet from of the chocolate.

Inuyasha parted his mouth to let her tongue in when she began licking across the seam. He used his right hand to thread through her hair, deepening the kiss. Gods, did she taste absolutely fucking divine, like chocolate covered cherries.

Far too soon, she pulled away from him, nipping his bottom lip for attempting to pull her back in. Kagome used her own hand to run through his hair, tipping his head back enough so she could run her tongue up and down the skin, licking up all the chocolate dots she had placed there.

Her tongue was so warm, and soft. It left him in a daze as she moved lower to tackle his chest. From the way she licked, starting from one side to the other and slowly making her way south, she must have drawn an elaborate maze. Her tongue deftly moved with precision; she knew exactly where to go.

Inuyasha moaned, his eyes half mast in pleasure, as Kagome sucked at his nipples. She took her time there, giving each one an equal amount of attention, erasing all signs of the caramel that covered them before moving on.

It was the most pleasurable torture Inuyasha had ever endured. She was getting closer and closer to the whipped cream tower that covered him, but it was obvious that Kagome was going to savor the taste of him before digging in. No amount of skin was forgotten as she traced lines of fire down his chest, dipping her tongue into his caramel filled belly button. Sometime during her travels downward, Inuyasha had grabbed a hold of her hair, helping keep it pinned back so she didn't get any chocolate or whipped cream in it. It was also an exercise in control, being careful that he didn't pull her hair too hard to cause her any pain.

Truth be told, Kagome was excited to get to the whipped cream portion of her dessert hanyou, although not entirely for what lay underneath. She had been eyeing that cherry since she walked in on him. It was the best part of a dessert after all.

She licked a line from the base of the tower to the tip, careful to not get too close to the skin of his shaft, picking up the cherry with the tip of her tongue and placing it between her teeth with the stem pointing out toward Inuyasha. Her gut reaction was to bite into the cherry and satiate her desire for the small fruit, but looking up at Inuyasha she had a better idea.

Leaning in towards him, she stuck out the stem towards his lips, offering him one last taste of her before she finally got a taste of him. Inuyasha greedily took the stem in his mouth, moving his lips generously over hers as she bit into the cherry, sharing the juice between the two of them for a moment before pulling apart.

Inuyasha wished he knew how to tie cherry stems with his tongue. He wanted to show her just what he could do with that tongue of his. Instead, he spit it out over the edge of the bed, far more concerned with what Kagome was about to do next.

Kagome had already moved to nestle herself between his legs, laying on her chest with her legs propped up at the knees, ankles crossed. Every time Kagome moved to another position, Inuyasha didn't think she could get any sexier, only to be proven wrong just a moment later. She gave him one last sultry look, placing her hands on his thighs to gently massage them, before taking the flat of her tongue from the base of his balls to the tip of his dick, all the way down to the skin.

Inuyasha pulled a low growl from deep in his chest at the feel of her tongue running up and down his hardened length. She felt even more amazing than he imagined she would, and he wasn't sure whether it was because he had been dry for so long or because Kagome just had a lot of practice.

They had been honest with each other from the beginning about their past sexual experiences. While Inuyasha wasn't a stranger to the act, Kagome had been with far more partners than himself, and with the way she licked his dick like her favourite ice cream cone was proof of that. Gods, when was the last time he received a blowjob anyways? Not since Kikyo, and that was years ago.

He played with the idea of threading his hand through her hair again, wanting to constantly be touching her, to feel her shiver as his claws lightly grazed her scalp. But as she finished licking off all the whipped cream, she fully engulfed his dick in her mouth, relaxing her jaw to fit as much of him in as she could. Inuyasha put holes into the bedsheets from gripping them so hard, and he was grateful he had stayed his hand from her head.

Inuyasha's head was spinning at the wet sounds of Kagome's mouth salivating around his dick. He didn't know how much more of this he could take before blowing his load early, and he much rather preferred the thought of cumming inside her undoubtedly wet pussy instead of her mouth.

"K-Kagome,"

She didn't slow down, didn't even look up at him as the hand that was squeezing towards the base tightened and the movements of her mouth went a little faster and deeper.

"Nng….Kags…."

Kagome could feel his balls tighten and knew he couldn't hold it much longer. The act of licking food off Inuyasha's body aroused her far more than she would have expected, and there was one aspect of the "banana split" that Inuyasha was missing: the garnish of chopped nuts. The chocolate and caramel she poured all over him and the whipped cream left her with a wonderfully sweet taste in her mouth, but she wanted to know how the salty taste of his cum would mix with it.

She ran a finger from her other hand along his perineum and moaned as she gave him one last hard suck. The vibrations from the skin to skin contact of her lips caused Inuyasha to let out a pitched whine as he filled her mouth with his cum. She held him fast in her mouth, keeping some controlled movement of her hand on his shaft as she swallowed every last drop of him.

Salty and sweet. Kagome was sure this was the ultimate way to give a blowjob, and she hoped by the panting she could hear from Inuyasha that he'd let her do it again sometime.

After cleaning up every last drop of his cum, she gave one last, chaste kiss to the tip of his cock and started lifting herself up by the arms when she was suddenly grabbed by the forearms and hauled up towards his face. He smashed his lips against her, clinking their teeth together as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, groaning at the taste of himself on her. He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed what she gave him, but words seemed immaterial and not enough, so he decided to show her instead.

In fact, he loved it so much, he knew he had to return the favor. Besides, Kagome got to have her fun, so it was only fair that Inuyasha should as well.

He wrapped his arms around Kagome and flipped them so he was top, not once severing their connection at the lips. Kagome didn't seem to mind the change as her hands roamed his body, tracing the muscles up his arms and in his shoulders. When the need for air became too great, Inuyasha moved down to line open mouthed kisses to the pulsepoint in her neck, nipping the jaw on his way there.

It took a considerable amount of restraint to not move himself even lower. She looked absolutely delectable laying under him, her nipples already pebbled and hard from her aroused state. She had a soft expression in her eyes, but there was still a light held in there that waited for Inuyasha's next move.

Just as she had done, he reached over her to grab the chocolate sauce and caramel and carefully spread it all over the tops of her breasts and stomach, saving the caramel for her exposed nipples. It was not nearly as intricate as Kagome's designs had been; despite his desire to give back the love she gave him, he was slowly becoming impatient. It had been so long since he made love to a woman, and the imagined feeling of her warm heat clutching him as he pumped into her made him grow harder by the second.

He also didn't have nearly as much space as she did. Inuyasha didn't want to get chocolate syrup on her lingerie, which he guessed probably cost a good deal.

Inuyasha set the toppings down on the nightstand, bringing his nose to the silk material of her bra and gently rubbed his nose against it. The silk was so soft against his skin and smelled strongly of her natural scent, intoxicating him.

His original plan was to slowly work his way down her body, but he couldn't fight the instinct to lay his tongue flat against her right nipple, licking up all the caramel in one swoop. Her body twitched, not quite anticipating his touch there yet, and she let out a sharp gasp as he curled his tongue around her nipple and completely enveloped it into his mouth.

Kagome's body was already beginning to tremble, not used to the feeling of someone's hot breath against her skin. She arched her chest upwards towards his face, desperate to keep that connection intact. Every lick and suck was sending jolts of pleasure down to her core, setting her body ablaze in passion. When he started nibbling with his teeth, Kagome trailed her hands up around his head, gently grasping the base of his ears and massaging them.

Inuyasha growled at the sensation, her soft touch sending shivers down his spine. Despite how good it felt, Inuyasha let her nipple go with a loud pop! and with almost lightening speed, grabbed her wrists and trapped them together above her head. This time was for Kagome; Inuyasha was determined to make her feel just as good as he did - if not more - and currently, that didn't include him. Not in the same way.

Until he could bury himself in her, the only thing he wanted from her was to hear her moaning in pleasure.

"Ah ah, no touching yet baby," he told her, keeping himself lifted off her just enough to take her in. Kagome moaned at the absence of his lips, arching her back just a little bit more to tempt him to come back for more. Inuyasha wished he could keep her in this position. He loved the way her chest opened up to him from this angle, but he fully planned on giving both nipples this undivided attention. Unfortunately he couldn't grow a third arm.

"Tell you what," he said, placing open mouth kisses down her neck. "If you can keep your hands up here, I'll make it worth your while,"

Kagome rolled her hands into fists, trying her hardest to break free as he gently pulled on her earlobe, snaking his tongue up the sides. She wasn't sure she could keep still while he lapped at her skin. She wanted something to do with her hands, and his ears were a perfect distraction.

But he was giving her a challenge, and Kagome had no plans to back down anytime soon.

"Then show me what you got," she replied, relaxing her hands and lowered her body back down into the bed.

Inuyasha released her wrists slowly, making sure they stayed where he put them. His hand slowly lowered down, caressing her cheek and trailing a line down her neck straight to her breast. He cupped the underside of her left breast, lifting it right to his mouth.

Kagome sighed as his other hand came up to the other breast, pulling and twisting the nipple. She managed to keep her wrists where they were, but couldn't help flexing her hands.

When he was convinced her breasts had been worshipped long enough, he slowly worked his way down her body, licking the chocolate off as he went. Her skin was soft, arguably softer than even the lingerie she wore. Inuyasha had to control himself from marking her all over her stomach, settling for quick nips that only turned the skin red for a few moments.

Inuyasha couldn't wait any longer. He was so close to getting to taste her, and he was salivating at the prospect. Her belly button was the last place he focused on - swirling his tongue around it - before gripping her left thigh in his hand and lifting it so it sat on his shoulder. He used his other hand to spread her right leg, opening herself up to him fully.

Without thinking about it, he brought his nose against her dark curls and inhaled, letting out a deep groan. She smelled absolutely exquisite, a spicy scent reminiscent of ginger surrounding him. The image of her panting underneath him, pussy already glistening from how wet she was for him, was more perfect than he could have ever imagined.

He dove in, licking a long swipe from slit to clit. She was sweet and salty at the same time, something uniquely Kagome, and he’d never get enough. He worked his tongue in overtime, starting at the ever quickly hardening nub. He flicked his tongue back and forth, bracing his hands against her thighs as she twitched with each flick, before moving down a little lower. He used his right hand to gently push apart her folds, each swipe of the tongue imitating a soft caress to her sensitive nerves.

Kagome moaned at the feeling, jolts of pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. She had given up on his challenge, moving her hands down from above her head and threading her fingers through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with her nails.

She could feel her eyes roll towards the back of her head as he plunged his tongue inside her. There was something about receiving oral that just sent her over the edge. The feel of his tongue swirling inside her, hitting her innermost walls as she tried to keep him in, had her gasping and squirming.

Despite the overwhelming feeling, she made sure to keep her hands clear of his ears, not wanting to accidentally pull or pinch them. She tried lifting her pelvis off the bed, but her trembling body was no match for the pure strength of his arms as he held her down. Instead, she pushed his head further forward, making his nose bump her clit, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

Inuyasha had to grind his pelvis into the bed to find a bit of relief from the sensory overload. He was drunk on the taste of her, but his impatience was beginning to get the best of him. He wanted to know how she felt wrapped around his dick, sucking him in and milking him dry.

He relished in the small whines Kagome made as he nuzzled his nose against her nub. He could feel her legs begin to shake as he slowly made his way upward, taking his time to generously lick around her folds before turning his tongue's attention to her swollen pearl.

It felt like the breath was being squeezed from Kagome's chest. Every inhale was followed by a shallow, barely present exhale. His tongue was working in overdrive. Every flick, every swirl had her entire body trembling under the force of her well awaited orgasm just starting to break over the horizon.

Inuyasha, in an effort to end their collective misery, took her swollen nub between his lips and sucked, letting out a contented growl, the vibrations finally sending her over the edge. Kagome let out an almost shrill whine and arched her back, her thighs tense with the desire to capture Inuyasha's head between them. Her eyes clouded, unable to focus on anything but the explosive orgasm running throughout body.

Inuyasha stayed right where he was, lapping up every drop of her essence that spilled from her. His ears stood at attention as he listened to her mewling, a soft rumbling spreading throughout his chest at the thought that he made her feel this way.

Inuyasha kept at her folds, slowly licking her clean, until the tremors stopped racing through her body. He pushed himself up so he could get a better image of the woman under him. Her face was flushed red, small tendrils of hair already beginning to stick to her neck, and her chest was heaving, taking in large gulps of air. When her breath was starting to go back to normal, she finally focused her gaze on Inuyasha, eyes filled with lust.

Inuyasha found it difficult to keep her strong gaze, his confidence from before slowly wavering now that there was nothing to distract either of them. Inuyasha wiped his chin on his upper arm, suddenly embarrassed about the mess he had made despite his best attempt at licking her clean.

Kagome let out a short puff of air, not wanting to fully chuckle at the man on top of her. She wasn't trying to laugh at him, he just looked so adorable. His eyes tried not to land on her face, but he didn't shy away from running them up and down her body. He was looking at her with what Kagome could only describe as reverence, yet just a tinge of uncertainty lingered.

Kagome leaned up, tugging one of his forelocks gently to bring his face to hers so they could share a kiss. It was slow and determined all at the same time; Kagome tried to pour her heart into it, to try and let him know that it was okay. They were okay, and Kagome wanted nothing more than to be with him like this for the rest of the night.

Kagome could taste herself on his tongue, and it only helped fuel the fire that had settled slightly after her body wracking orgasm. She wound her hands behind his neck, grazing the back of his neck with her fingernails, causing a deep groan to emit from Inuyasha's chest.

"Inuyasha, I want you," Kagome purred, running a finger lightly over the outlines of his ears while the other hand ran lines up and down his chest.

"Kagome…"

Inuyasha tried to keep his actions calm and smooth - leaning over to the bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer - a feat that proved to be difficult as Kagome continued to run her hands across whatever body part of his she could reach. His hands shook as he slowly rolled it onto his dick. When he was ready, he lowered himself down to lay on top of her, being careful not to put his weight on her, and instead into his arms that framed her face. She opened herself up to him, allowing him to nestle his stiff erection in between her legs.

"Kagome," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her skin, starting from one cheek to the next. "Are you sure?"

Kagome brought her lips up against his one more time, teasing him with her tongue, swiping it along his lips, lightly caressing his own tongue in the process. She gently nipped his bottom lip when pulling back for air. She leaned up towards the top of his head, her breath ghosting the fine hairs of his ears.

"Take me, Inuyasha,"

Inuyasha had never heard words so sweet.

He slowly sank into her, nearly wincing at the pressure he felt. God she was tight! Already her walls were clenching and pulsing around his cock, her warmth seeping into him all the way up to his chest. Kagome moaned when Inuyasha was buried in her as far as he could be, basking in the fullness of having him inside her. For a minute, neither of them moved, each of them getting used to being so intimately joined.

Inuyasha kissed all along her jaw and neck - internally rejoicing when Kagome tilted her head back enough to bare more of her neck to him, a sign of submission to an Inu youkai.

Once Kagome was used to the added girth inside her, she rocked her hips up, letting him know she was ready for him to start moving.

He started slow, pulling out till just the tip remained before sliding back in. Inuyasha was the one to moan this time, Kagome letting out an erotic sigh as her body shivered under his touch. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasure through his body, the smell of their activities slowly beginning to permeate the air around them, creating a natural musk that was absolutely intoxicating.

Inuyasha raised himself up onto his arms just enough to look at her face as he continued to thrust into her. Kagome’s eyes were only halfway open, seeing but not seeing as she let her body be taken over by the pleasure of having him be not just inside of her, but to actively give her what her body desired. Her mouth was parted open, and Inuyasha could hear every little breathy moan she made as he tilted his hips back and forth, torturing her slowly.

Kagome hooked her ankles behind his legs in an effort to keep him as deep inside her as possible. One hand was gripping his bicep, the other was sinking into the supple flesh of one of his buttcheeks.

“Inuyasha....I….I need��”

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need more,”

“More of what?” he teased, slowing down his thrusts so he could circle his hips into her. Kagome let out a small cry at the sensation.

“I need it harder….faster…”

Inuyasha let out a low growl, and, with the precision only one with youkai ancestry could pull off, he fully raised himself up onto his knees, keeping himself inside of her. He grabbed both of her legs, hooking her ankles behind his head and gave her exactly what she asked for.

He began pounding into her with the fervor of a crazed man. Kagome became far more vocal, gasping and moaning at the force and speed with which he was fucking her with. Her head tilted back into the pillow, forcing her chest open to his eyed. Her breasts were bouncing violently against his movements.

“Touch yourself, Kagome,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobeyment. She instantly grabbed her breasts, molding each of them to her hands before pinching and rolling her nipples between deft fingers.

Kagome was on fire, the heat radiating from her core and spreading all over her body. Once again, the ability to exhale was quickly becoming lost to her, the holding of her breath only making the heat in her groin feel more pronounced. Her legs were beginning to ache, but she could barely feel the tension as he continued to pound into her, using the force and dexterity only a youkai could give her.

Inuyasha could feel he was close to the end, the feel of her wet pussy clenching around his hardened length bringing him closer and closer. He could hear every gasp and hitch of her breath, knowing that she was getting close herself. He wanted to give her one more orgasm before his own. Being mindful of his claws, he snaked his right hand down and began rubbing her clit, his rough, calloused fingers inducing the right amount of friction for Kagome’s legs to tremble.

“Nn..ahhh...Inuyasha...”

“Come on baby. Cum for me, Kagome,”

All it took were those four words to send Kagome over the edge. She let out a high pitched whine, white spots blurred her vision as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her body. Inuyasha let out his own yelp, unprepared for the pressure that came when her walls clenched around his cock, feeling as if she was cutting off blood flow. He erratically drove into her a couple more times before shooting his seed into the condom he wore.

Inuyasha slowly lowered Kagome’s legs to the bed before falling forward, catching himself on his arms so he wouldn’t crush her. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck as Kagome wrapped her arms around his shoulders, absentmindedly grazing her fingers on the nape of his neck. They simply laid there, basking in the glowing aftermath of their orgasm, as they took a few deep breaths.

Inuyasha could have laid there all night, taking in the sweet scent of sex and sweat that had spread throughout the room. There was absolutely no way he was washing these sheets anytime soon. In fact, he might have to research how to bottle this scent, maybe put it in a candle, so that he could relive this moment at any time.

Of course, given the soft humming coming from the woman underneath him, he might be able to reenact this night in the very near future.

Not wanting to crush her any longer, Inuyasha finally pulled out - Kagome letting out a small grunt at the loss of him inside her - carefully taking hold of the now filled condom, tying up the end and throwing it in the small trash can beside his bed.

"I'll be right back," he told her, giving her a quick kiss before walking out of the room towards the bathroom, not giving a damn that he was walking around completely naked. He was still high on all that is Kagome to care about something as silly as that. He came back barely a minute later, after quickly wiping himself clean, with a warm, damp washcloth for Kagome.

He chuckled at the sight before him. Kagome had already cocooned herself under the sheets, a warm smile on her face as she brought the pillow she was holding up towards her face and took a deep breath. She looked so happy, and content, and satisfied. The youkai that slept deep within Inuyasha rumbled with joy at the thought that he was the one to make her feel that way.

She opened her eyes as soon as he reached the bed, her smile brightening just a bit more at the sight of him. Maybe it had just been a while, but Kagome was pretty sure that was some of the best sex she's ever had. Her heart melted a little at seeing the washcloth in his hands. She had always took care of her own needs afterwards, having never really stayed the night at a man's house after sex before. She had to admit, it was….nice, and made her feel more loved than even during the act itself.

She thanked him with another kiss, finding that it was hard to keep her hands off him for more than a minute. He must have felt the same, running his tapered claws through her mussed up hair as she took care of cleaning herself. The feel of the warm washcloth along her thighs mixed with his soft touches could have put her to sleep.

When she was finished, he took the washcloth from her and threw it in the corner of the room where his laundry basket sat. He grabbed the sheets to cover them with, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her close to him so that her back was flush with his chest

"You know what the best thing about being an adult is?" Kagome asked. Inuyasha gave her an unintelligible reply, muffled by her own hair that he had buried his face into. She giggled from the hair that tickled her neck because of his breath.

"I don't know, you tell me" He repeated, now resting his head on her shoulder.

"Well, we were able to choose to eat dessert before dinner," she said with a laugh.

Inuyasha chuckled at her joke. "Dessert before dinner, that’s the dream,"

"Well, dessert has made me hungry for dinner," she said, playfully pushing him off her. She could feel that delicious ache between her thighs as she stood up, faltering a little on her first step. Inuyasha was ready to jump up if she fell, but Kagome shooed him away and walked to his closet to pull out a shirt of his to wear.

Inuyasha didn't think Kagome could be any more perfect than in that moment, wearing one of his favorite black long sleeved shirts. She looked beautiful when she dressed up in one of her floral dresses or high waisted skirts, and if all her lingerie looked like tonight's, then Inuyasha could count himself a lucky man. But there was something about seeing her in his clothes that riled up something primal in him.

Inuyasha had never really shown his more youkai tendencies to Kikyo when they were together. He had never suppressed them for her, but Kikyo generally ignored the topic, while Inuyasha's youkai side laid dormant and unimpressed with the woman Inuyasha had loved for so long.

Inuyasha had never experienced his youkai instincts feeling so active before. There was something about Kagome that fueled every fiber of his being, which was a little terrifying. He had only known Kagome for a month, how could he feel this strongly about her already? He certainly didn't want to scare her away because of it.

"Dinner can wait a few minutes, come back to bed," he said, rubbing the empty side of the bed

"Inuyasha, you can't let your apartment burn down because of unattended food! You promised me dinner and a movie. Besides," She exclaimed, a grin lighting up her face. “Who said we were done for the night,”

Kagome shot him a sly wink before stepping out of the room to go check on their dinner. The last thing Inuyasha wanted to do was get up after the mind blowing sex they just had - in fact, Inuyasha could fall asleep right where he laid - but a sudden gurgle of his stomach put thoughts of slumber on the back burner as hunger crept to the forefront. Another plus side to getting up was watching Kagome work in his kitchen, in nothing but his shirt.

Inuyasha thought there could be worse things to happen.

And so he flipped over the sheets, sauntering out into the kitchen, not bothering to cover himself. He would let her fiddle with his marinara sauce, and woo her with the fancy bottle of wine he bought for her to go with the meal. They’d then snuggle up together on the couch and put in a movie. The genre wasn’t important, it wasn’t as if they were going to watch it.

Like Kagome said, they weren’t done for the night, and he was looking forward to claiming her in every room of that damn apartment.

#day of love #one big bang #2 x 14 #inuyasha fanfiction #artist author collaborations #inukag

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kittysaysxmeow · 3 years ago

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𝓐 𝓢𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓷'𝓼 𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵

@poisonousisley + @evildxllface

CLOSED

Selina Kyle recalled her first period of confinement in a federal prison. She was no stranger to brief stints in jail cells or detention centers as a street rat growing up in Gotham's criminal underbelly. However, a real penitentiary was nothing what she had anticipated. There is something disturbing about the concrete box she was put in. It has been engineered with absolute precision. The corners were sharp and straight, the window a perfect square with evenly spaced bars. Someone designed that jail cell, they sat in a clean office under the glow of the natural sun rays and used their God given talents to create something so soulless as to constitute additional punishment. In the summer the fresher air was a relief, helping to alleviate the stench of festering sewage but in the cold seasons it let in a wicked draft and reduced the temperature to near freezing. It was no brighter inside than the gathering gloom of dusk, even at midday. It was either suffocatingly quiet or pierced with the screams of tortured inmates. She wasn’t sure how other prison reform programs went, but Gotham took the vile malicious cake.

By the time she met Harley, after donning the moniker Catwoman for a few years, she’d gotten used to regular stints in Arkham. She’d even made a bit of a name for herself among some of the inmates and guards. It was the easiest way to cope in there, when you had a little leeway with the system. Few of the staff meant to kept them confined weren’t corrupt. A little bribe here or there, a flutter of her lashes, and a good right jab and she was relatively content to wait out her sentencing. She didn’t expect her next door cellmate to be the infamous Harley Quinn. Selina tried her best to ignore her incessant chatting and the nonsensical mumblings that sometimes went all night. Like she wasn’t just addressing Selina but about twenty different voices in her head. Eventually Selina caved chatted with the clown princess. They didn’t come out of as friends per say, rather two villainesses vaguely acquainted.

Their acquaintance grew deeper only after the Sirens were founded. They were unstoppable, three pillars of a frail but oddly devoted triangle formed by shared conflicts and hardships. Even in the face of periodic disagreements and scorns, and even after they formally dissolved, it was the sort of relationship that was forged and could never wither. Selina wasn’t particularly fond of admitting she had a soft spot for the women but also learned it wasn’t necessarily a weakness. How could it be when together they were such a force to be reckoned with. With a bond like that, time, distance, and personal progress were irrelevant. If they needed each other, they’d come. No questions asked. No judgement. Even though Red's departure reduced the teether between Pamela and Harley, Selina knew there was only one person she could turn to when Harley's visage appeared over the news. It had that bitch Amanda Waller’s stench all over it.

⟨ SK → PI ⟩ : Suit up Red, our girl needs us.

“God this shithole looks gloomier every time I see it,” While Selina was relieved to be back in Gotham, she was less than thrilled to be facing the institution of mortar and hatred. Even from a distance it looked harrowing. Entering always seemed so simple; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, a little villainy taken too far, and they'd chuck you in and throw away the key. The difficult part was getting out. Selina was under no qualms that getting to Harley wouldn't require some critical expertise. She adjusted the binocular setting on her goggles, numbering the guards patrolling the perimeter with pretty serious-looking weaponry.

"Looks like fun," she uttered with forced enthusiasm and an even falser grin in Pamela's direction. "We could maybe get in without too much a fuss through the northeast gate, the security's lighter over there," the objective was to avoid calling attention to themselves for as long as possible. If they could at least get to Harley's cell then they could go full Charlie's Angels mode and punch their way out. But until then..."When all of this is over they two of you are going to make up. If I have to tie you both down with my fucking whip"

#〈 thread : gothamcitysirens 002 〉#〈 tw : weapons 〉#〈 tw : prison mentions 〉#〈 tw : imprisonment mentions 〉

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snippychicke · 4 years ago

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Aftermath--Five

We’ve got nothing but fluff here, folks. maybe a smidge of plot, but just...fluff. Enjoy.

Rating: Everyone-ish

Warning: slight violence; use of racist words. some hints of angst

First | Previous

Living with Otto had taught Lorelei not to be surprised when she came home to something unusual. But seeing him up on the roof tossing tiles down as he was reshingling the damn roof proved that he still was able to stun her. Granted, it was in desperate need of repair but….

Why?

How?

Why?!

"Lorelei!" Her neighbor Nichole hissed, balancing her baby on her hip. Lorelei slowly stepped over to the white picket fence, her eyes never leaving Otto. (Safety reasons. Not because the man was shirtless and glistening in the evening light, her mind recalling that near kiss from the night before.)

"Where in heaven did you find him?" Nicole whispered as if Otto could hear them from on top of the roof. "I mean, my Joseph is a good man and all, but I don't think I could ever convince him to help out like that."

"He kinda...just showed up?" She said, unsure of how much Raymond had told his cousin. "It's complicated."

There was a glint in her eye as Nichole smiled slyly. "Shirtless in December, I bet he's a real furnace in bed."

Lorelei turned beet red at the implication. "W-what? No! It's not like that!"

Nichole gave her an incredulous look. "Girl, why not? I know you're trying out for sainthood like that cousin of mine, but even saints sin once in a while."

Lorelei covered her face with a groan, trying desperately not to allow her mind to wander down that path. She couldn't even claim he was her patient anymore with the way everything was healing. And yeah, probably to any outsider it probably would look rather incriminating.

And last night...she hadn't been adverse to him sitting next to her as she shook herself out of a nightmare. Or how he comforted her with his strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. And he was a furnace. His warmth had done more than just chase away the cold. It had drawn her in, helping her to relax into him while also stirring something inside as he leaned towards her.

She could still remember catching a whiff of his soap as she waited for their lips to touch. Whatever it was, it hadn't been the ivory bar she had sitting in the shower.

"Never did think I'd see the day I'd enjoy watching a white man work," Nichole continued almost to herself as she shifted the baby to her other hip. "You think once he's done you could convince him to help me out? I'm sure I got a few things he could handle."

"Nichole!"

She laughed, jostling her baby. "Right. I'll be a good neighbor and leave you to your eye candy. Enjoy, my dear!" She winked before turning and returning to her home, leaving Lorelei still flushed with rather indecent thoughts.

She peeked up at the roof, feeling her stomach twist. She had turned down all sorts of suitors through the years. The idea of marriage had left a bad taste in her mouth. Obedient to husband, staying home, popping out kids, and doing nothing but housework. That was not the life she wanted.

Yet...she couldn't see Otto in that kind arrangement. He treated her as an equal. Otto hadn’t said one word about her working, lack of a husband and kids, or even her abysmal homemaker skills.

And there she went, allowing her thoughts to wander off. Other than last night, he never expressed any romantic or...other kind of interest in her, which was fine. Completely fine.

Maybe she wished he'd drop a hint or two, but he respected her, so she needed to do the same. If he wasn't really interested in her, and last night was just a fluke, then that was fine.

Even if it made her chest ache, it was fine.

Which probably meant she needed to stop watching his muscles flex beneath his pale skin as he worked, hair askew from wind and sweat. But….

They were really good muscles. She hadn't seen that kind of definition outside of her medical textbooks. She'd have no trouble naming the muscles of his back and arm, fingertips skimming over the muscle groups. She could probably do the same with his chest and abs….

Otto paused, shifting to look down at her. "Having fun up there?" She squeaked, hoping he hadn't realized what she was doing. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. "Good!” she chirped again with a bit of oddness to her voice. “Well, I'll, um, I'll go start supper then! Be careful up there!"

--+--

Otto watched, a faint smile on his face as Lorelei disappeared from view. He had caught her staring, and even with one eye it was easy to tell the blush on her face. It made him feel rather proud as he returned to his work, trying not to reflect exactly why her attention brought him satisfaction.

He pulled a nail from between his teeth but paused at a far too familiar flash of blue light from below. His hand grasped the hammer out habit as he looked over the edge once again. Not the navy blue suit of a commission assassin, but a woman dressed in the light blue of an office worker. (He wasn't disappointed by the lack of white hair. It didn't rip open the barely scabbed-over wounds on his heart. It was fine. He was fine.)

The woman blocked out the sun with her hand as she looked up. "Agent Otto?"

Otto turned back and pounded the nail instead, ignoring the woman even as she called his name for a second and third time.

He wasn't an agent. Not any more. That part of his life was over (just as Oscar's life was over, and how Axel had left him behind, knowingly or not.)

There was a faint grumble before the ladder shook slightly. He closed his eye in defeat briefly before resuming his work. Maybe he could at least get done with this row as she struggled with the rickety thing.

"Agent Otto!" She huffed as she finally reached the top nearly a full minute later. "My name is…."

"Don't care," he interrupted. He could see her purse her lips slightly in annoyance.

"...The Commission recognizes the hardship you have gone through," she continued after a moment, making him miss his mark, the nail bent instead driven into the rafter below, causing him to snarl as he pulled it out. "And the current Director was hesitant to ask for help, however right now we are in desperate straits. Our current field agents are stretched thin, and we need every skilled individual we can acquire."

"No."

"No?" she spluttered. "You and your brothers have halted several catastrophic anomalies. You know exactly what we are facing without agents to…"

"No," he snarled, pointing his hammer towards her, making her flinch slightly, gripping the ladder tight. "Leave."

"Ag-"

"Excuse me," Lorelei's voice called up from below, making them both of them freeze. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

The woman forced a smile as she looked down. "I just had a question for the gentleman here."

"Yeah? Well, I'm pretty sure I heard him say no," Lorelei shot back up, her eyes narrowed. "So why don't you go on and skedaddle and find someone else to help you."

The woman pressed her lips together, annoyance on her face as she looked back towards Otto. He just tilted his head, as if to say 'go on.'

"Alright. I'm leaving." the woman carefully made her way down the ladder, fully aware of Lorelei's glare while Otto resumed his work.

There were strict policies in place for dealing with civilians. While the field agents were given leeway, she wasn't. She could only give the glaring woman a nod before stalking off.

Lorelei kept an eye on the woman before she disappeared around the block corner. Once she was out of view, Lorelei's shoulder relaxed as she sighed.

It wasn't long and Otto descended as well, and the frown on her face shifted to a smile as she turned to face him. Then remembered/realized he was still shirtless and...

Yes. Those were the pectoral majoris, and those were rectus abdominis, and the external oblique. Her fingers twitched and Lorelei forced her gaze up to his face, saw the smirk on his face and quickly looked up at the clouds drifting by on the breeze. "So. Anyways. Um. What was that all about?"

A dark look flitted across his face as he turned to pick up his discarded shirt and pulled it on. As he remained silent, she glanced back and noticed his scowl. "...or if you don't want to say, that's okay too."

He looked down at her, studying her intently. She offered a hand, unsure what else to do, but wanting to do something.

Otto ignored her outstretched hand and closed the distance between them with a few steps before wrapping his arms around her. There was no way she could fight against him even if she wanted to, which she certainly did not. She clutched on to him as he pulled her to his chest, uncaring of the sweat and smell as her fingers dug into his back.

"...you're not leaving, are you?" She asked, her quiet voice muffled against his chest.

"No," he swore, and it sounded like a swear the way he said it as he pulled her tighter, pressing his lips to her hair.

"Good. I--" she paused, a smile flitting briefly across her face as she pressed her cheek against his chest. "The cats would miss you."

There was still a faint flush to her cheeks as Otto pulled back, giving her a skeptical look. The mischievous smile on Lorelei's face faded as he placed his forefinger beneath her chin, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Just the cats?"

She was struck silent, meeting his grey-blue eye and unable to look away. Not as his thumb rubbed across her lip slowly, his own gaze concentrated on the pink hue.

There was a sharp clatter and a cacophony of feline hisses, shocking both out of the moment. "Shit! The chicken!"

--+--

The cats had made short work of the chicken Lorelei had been preparing. "...You want to go out to eat?" She asked after they got the last piece from Hugo, who had dragged his trophy underneath Otto's bed and hung on as Otto dragged it out and lifted both chicken leg and cat in the air.

He merely shrugged, waiting to see how long the orange tabby could hold on while dangling in the air. Hugo snarled, his green eyes glaring at Otto.

"...There's a diner a few streets over that has some decent food. A good mom and pop joint that isn't fancy or anything." Lorelei snickered at the sight of the two glaring at each other. "Oh for goodness sake you two. Hugo, it'll be better cooked. I promise once it's deboned, you can have your fair share." She wrapped her arms around the fluffy cat, who finally let go of the chicken leg though gave a plaintive yowl as he adjusted himself in her arms.

"Spoiled," Otto chided playfully as he shook the chicken leg towards the cat.

"Oh, I spoil them, Mr. Cook enough eggs every morning to feed everyone?" Lorelei laughed as she allowed the cat to jump down on the floor. "I don't even want to think about how much you spend on eggs. Which, by the way, I need to pay you for my fair share of groceries. You keep sneaking off when I'm at work."

"Hmm, no," he decided as he turned to leave, making her frown.

"What? No?" She chased after him as he descended the stairs. "Otto!"

"No."

"I eat that food too," she pushed. "So I should pay for half of it."

"Nej."

"Nej?" She paused for a moment, "Wait, do you mean no? Ugh, you are incorrigible!"

“Jag vet inte vad det betyder."

"I don't know what that means!"

Otto laughed, pausing suddenly, making Lorelei stumble into him. There was a playful pout on her face as she tried not to smile. "I mean it, though. Let me pay you back. Plus the whole roof thing," she said, gesturing overhead. "I don't even wanna know how much that cost."

He looked upwards and shrugged. "Rent."

"Rent?!" She spluttered, shocked. "I-what? No! Y-you don't owe me rent! Especially that much! Besides, if you could afford that much in rent, why are you staying with me in this hovel of a house?"

Which was the core of both her arguement and her deep-seated worry. If Otto could afford all of that, why was he staying with her?

"The cats." He teased, making her blush return.

"T-they're your cats," she argued weakly.

"Nej, our cats," he guided her to look back towards him, enjoying the blush as well as the soft expression on her face as she took in his words. His meaning. Her hand came up to tangle with his.

"Ours, huh?" Her smile returned and became playful. "Maybe you should let me help feed them then."

He rolled his eye with a smile on his face before grabbing her coat from the rack and draping it over her shoulders. "You're impossible."

"Yeah, well, you're the one that apparently wants to put up with me," she busied herself with settling into her coat before looking back at him, heartwarming as he offered his arm to her to hold on to, an indescribable expression on his face.

"I do."

--+--

The diner wasn't terribly busy, just a few couples and the lone family quietly eating as some easy-listening music played lowly in the background. Lorelei didn't miss how Otto automatically drifted to the corner booth in the back from where he could keep an eye on everyone. It left her with having her back to the rest of the diner, but knowing Otto was watching out for her settled her nerves.

Honestly, it went a lot better than she had worried about on the walk over. Just supper like every other night, except without the hassle of some of the cats trying to snitch off their plates. Quiet companionship, though occasionally, Lorelei would reach over a snag a french fry with a mischievous smile on her face.

Retaliation was when she had ordered an ice cream sundae as dessert, and he helped himself. She feigned offense, which was ruined by her laughter. The thing was big enough to share anyways.

She had to keep reminding herself this wasn't anything special or different, despite the butterflies that would occasionally flutter to life inside her chest. Just an impromptu outing with her roommate. Friend. He was definitely her friend. (Even if her heart was crying for more.)

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the half-nigger nurse," a drunken voice broke the comfortable quietness, making Lorelei freeze. Her gaze caught Otto's, who's faint expression of humor fell as he looked from her to the approaching two men. They barely gave him a second glance; however, their attention focused solely on Lorelei. "I thought we made it clear that you weren't allowed to eat with us whites anymore."

"The owner doesn't seem to have a problem with us here," she said, hands fisted in her skirt as she kept her eyes focused on the dark buttons of Otto's coat. "So maybe you shouldn't either."

"I bet Bob doesn't see how many niggers come in and out of your place at odd hours of the night," the other sneered. "Might as well put a red light on your porch, you whor--"

Lorelei bristled, a snarl on her lips as she turned. But in that short time, Otto had stood, towering over two with a dark look on his face. The whole diner had their eyes on them as Otto stared them down, his countenance even more severe with his eye’s still-healing wound.

Any sane person would have backed down. But either the two men had one too many or were lacking in common sense. "What?" The man stepped forward, trying to puff out his chest to look as imposing. "You're going defend her honor? Like she has any?"

"Otto…" Lorelei slipped from her seat, well aware of everybody's eyes on them. Her hand settled on Otto's arm, causing him to look down to her, his expression softening minutely. "Let's just go home."

"Nah, I'm going to tell this dumb bag of rocks exactly what kind of-" The man reached out for Otto's coat, which also happened to be his blind side.

Otto grabbed the man's wrist in a blur of movement, twisting it with a disturbing crack that echoed through the diner. The man fell to his knees, his scream of pain drowned but the other patrons’ cries. Lorelei winced and looked away just as Otto kicked the man square in the chest with enough force to slam him into the nearby chairs.

"You bastard!" The man's buddy yelled, barely drawing his fists before Otto turned to him the same time Lorelei grabbed a knife from the table and stepped between the two.

"You're gonna back off," she snarled. Except the man proved not to feel threatened by the short woman with a blunted knife. He grabbed a handful of her hair before she could swing, yanking painfully.

Lorelei dropped the knife with a gasp of pain, which her attacker echoed seconds later as Otto's hand wrapped itself quickly around the man's neck, his fingers digging into the man's skin.

The man quickly let go of Lorelei's hair as he tried to pry Otto's grip off with little success. It was easy to see his face paling as blood started to seep around Otto's fingernails.

"Otto, Otto!" Lorelei snapped him out of the blood lust as she tugged on his coat. His grip didn't ease in the slightest bit as he looked down to her. "Let him go."

He didn't want to, but the pleading expression on her face convinced him. He tossed the man like a ragdoll at his friend, knocking both of them into the nearby table. "Let's get out of here," she murmured as she slipped her hands around his, pulling softly.

Otto finally took note of the rest of the diner. Many of the other patrons had already fled, while one of the servers was already on the phone, their eyes wide with fear.

He didn't care much about their feelings. The fear was nothing new to him. But the worry Lorelei's face tugged at him with a new sense of guilt as she led him out the door. No one said a word to them even after Lorelei left a wad of bills to cover the food and then some.

The walk home was quiet for the first block as Lorelei's heart gradually returned to a somewhat average pace. "Are-" she started, looking up to her silent companion next to her, easily keeping pace with her quick stride with his long legs. He paused from keeping a lookout as they walked and met her gaze. "Are you okay?" She continued a bit quietly.

His sharp gaze softened somewhat. "I'm fine."

"Right! Right, silly of me to ask," she continued quickly. "I mean, you've had your eye removed without sedation. God, that was probably nothing for you."

It was actually was nothing for him, but her comment caused him to realize the nurse wasn't as used to fighting as he was. Her tanned skin was paler than usual, and he could see her shaking despite her arms crossed across her chest.

He paused, a hand settling on her shoulder to draw her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah! I'm fine," was her immediate response, though it was easy to tell she was lying by the way her gaze darted everywhere but him, her whole body tense as a bowstring. "I-I should be," she amended after a moment, running a hand through her hair gingerly. "Shit like that happens more often than I like to admit."

He touched her chin, encouraging her to meet his gaze. Maybe a few hairs were missing from her head, but she was otherwise unharmed. Rattled would be the word he would use, something that he was unused to dealing with.

His brothers had dealt with close calls and brushes with death reservedly. Even when Oscar had been killed right in front of them, neither him nor Axel had allowed it to affect them. Or at least not outwardly. Inwardly, it had felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, leaving nothing but a howling pit in its absence.

"No more,' he stated simply, confusing Lorelei for a moment. "I'll protect you."

Lorelei’s expression shifted into a faint smile as her whole body relaxed. She hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer and wrapping her arms around him. Her head rested against his chest as his own arms settled around her waist. He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss against her hair as he pulled her tight.

#fic: aftermath #The Umbrella Academy #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #otto #tua otto #tua oscar #tua axel #the swedes #the swedes otto #the swedes axel #tua the swedes #the swedes oscar #otto/OC #Jason Bryden

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fundielicious-simblr · 4 years ago

Note

For personality, 3 and 9! For background, 2 and 3. For relationships, 2. And for fun facts, 16 and 17 :) You can pick whichever sim you like!

This is gonna be a LONG one, so grab your popcorn and get ready to scroll

ooo I think I might pick the first 6 sims from the ‘heir’ family, so I’ll do from Adalynn to Reece - let’s also assume that they’ve already mentioned reading the Bible/devotionals etc because to write it down 6 times would be hella repetitive.

Personality

[3] What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)?

Adalynn - One of her favourite hobbies is to play the piano, but with 5 children she doesn’t get to do it as much as she’d like. She also loves spending time out in the yard cultivating her different plants and flowers, when she lived at home she and macie were in charge of their large garden, and now she mainly focuses on growing fruits and vegetables that her family can eat, she’s hoping to one day add a beehive for fresh honey but for now she’s happy with what she’s got.

Barrett - He’s interested in any kind of handiwork, while living at home it was him that maintained different items around the home that needed to be upgraded. Fishing is also a great love of his, probably his favourite, for a while he worked on a fishing boat, but when he and Kyleigh had the triplets he changed jobs to one that would pay more and was more safe.

Macie - Her absolute favourite hobbies are cooking and gardening, she cooks all of the meals for the family and enjoys experimenting with things grown in the garden. She loves taking care of babies whenever she has the chance, which with the family she’s got means there’s always a baby for her to take care of.

Zoe - Zoe’s absolute favourite hobby is to sing and make music, in-game her character autonomously sits at the piano to play music all the time so I think it fits her personality well. She also spends time writing music, so she’ll read books on music theory from time to time.

Maggie - She took her favourite hobby and turned it into a career, she’s been into photography since she was young but prefers to take more editorial pieces that let her be as creative as she wants. With encouragement from Shane (her husband) she’s gotten more into fantasy series that I imagine are popular in the sims that she never had exposure to as a child (think Divergent series, the Hunger Games trilogy, and the Twilight Saga for true teen cringe)

Reece - Like Maggie, he also took his favourite hobby/interest and turned it into a career, when he’s not working on his freelance programming jobs he’s working on an app. It’s a personal project that he enjoys doing to destress when work get’s a little too much. In my head he’s also going to dabble in robotics, so that’ll appear some time in game.

[9] What are they most afraid of?

For this one, let’s assume they’ve all said “other than going to hell” because again, that shit gets repetitive real quick. Even these are pretty repetitive since its normal for people to be scared of losing loved ones.

Adalynn - Something going wrong during pregnancy or birth, the delivery with Joshua (#5) went wrong and could have ended very badly. The issue with Adalynn is that it’s been put into her head that home births are the best thing, so while she’s afraid of something going wrong, she’ll need her husband Mason to step in and let her know that she has other options.

Barrett - Something happening to his wife Kyleigh in labour and him having to care for their (right now) 9 children. So far the various births of their children have been fine, but there’s always a chance of something happening. There’s also the fear of something happening to someone in his family like his parents and siblings.

Macie - Deep down she’s afraid she’s never going to find someone to marry, she’s in the sims equivalent of her 30s with no man in sight. There’s also the fear of something happening to her family, they are her everything so she hates to imagine something bad happening.

Zoe - Other than losing her family, it would be losing her ability to sing. It’s one of the non-familial things that brings her joy.

Maggie - Losing control of her life, growing up everything she did was dictated, and now that she has more freedom to make her own decisions she’d hate to lose it.

Reece - Reece is scared of becoming a horrible person, he saw with Stacie’s dad and (in less extreme cases) other men how easy it is for power to get to someones head and for them to hurt the ones they’re suppose to love. Men are given all the power and can run wild with reckless abandon at the expense of their family, and Reece would hate to put his family in that position.

background

[2] What’s their family like?

These 6 are all siblings, so I’ll do one large group answer and try and get all the perspectives in. Their family is a large, very conservative, fundamentalist family with links to many others who believe the same things as them. Their grandfather was a well known politician so they grew up knowing that they were related to someone great, but they never experienced the wealth that one would think comes with having famous family. In their childhoods they experienced a working class/lower middle class lifestyle due to their father not having a full time job other than being a pastor. The older girls took on the brunt of the child rearing as they aged and as a result have more of a mother/child bond with some of their younger siblings, and when a girl gets married there is a lot of tears when they move away. Their parents have your classic fundamentalist christian relationship, their father is the head of the family, under him is their mother, and lastly is them; their mother defers to their father on all decisions, but in this case she realised early on that she has domination of how the home is run and therefore has a bit of leeway to subtlety get what she wants. The children were to obey their parents immediately and without hesitation, so as they grew up, got married, and were able to make their own rules - some struggled with the new found freedom whilst others flourished. With 13 children there’s a lot of personalities and not everyone gets along 100% of the time, so there’s a lot of effort put forward for them all to get along as they’re always seeing each other.

[3] What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold?

oo this is interesting cause this is something you’ll see more of in a series I'll be introducing in a bit, but for now I’ll explain their ‘leanings’.

Adalynn - She and her husband Mason are like their parents and remain very conservative Fundamentalists (skirts only, homeschooling their children etc), they also practice the quiverfull (QF) lifestyle and abstain from family planning as they feel God will bless them with however many he sees fit for them. Their parents (and Adalynn’s grandparents I guess) joined an organization called the ‘Centre for Learning and Life’ (CFLL) and attend many homeschool conferences arranged by the organization for those who use their materials. Due to the connections they gained as a result of her grandfather, several members of her family (including her parents) are asked to speak at events on their different areas of speciality. She and her husband actually met at a conference.

Barrett - he and his wife Kyleigh are also like their parents and remain very conservative Fundamentalists (skirts only, homeschooling their children etc), they too practice the quiverfull (QF) lifestyle and abstain from family planning as they feel God will bless them with however many he sees fit for them.Their parents joined an organization called the ‘Centre for Learning and Life’ (CFLL) and attend many homeschool conferences arranged by the organization for those who use their materials - these two also met at a conference that they attended with their families.

Macie - Macie is still unmarried and therefore lives at home. She has the same viewpoint as her parents and older siblings, and should she marry she would live the life her parents did. She attends conferences with her parents, and now is even asked to speak to encourage girls on the value of purity and modesty.

Zoe - Right now, Zoe and her husband Francisco fall into the category of fundamentalist, but not necessarily QF. They’re both against hormonal birth control, but have been looking into Natural Family Planning as after the birth of their son Javier Jr, Zoe would like to change things up and have more of a chance to plan things out. Zoe still does attend some homeschool conferences when she can, but now her priorities are different.

Maggie - Maggie and her husband Shane are conservative christians, they’re more secular than her immediate family but still conservative enough in comparison to the average sim.

Reece - Reece and Stacie are technically fundamentalists as that is the stance of the church they attend, but in their home they don’t subscribe to every single belief in an orthodox way (see personality Q9 for the reason why) They’re open to children, but with Stacie’s health issues being a factor they’re happy as long as everyone is healthy.

Relationships

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it?

Adalynn - Her main friend group are her sisters Macie and Zoe, as well as her sister in law Kyleigh. She doesn’t have much time for socialization but is friendly with the ladies at church and loves fellowshipping before and after a service. With her sisters, Adalynn’s role is the motherly one I guess, always there to lend a listening ear and be a shoulder to cry on. She’s the oldest and has therefore done the most emotional labour on behalf of her siblings.

Barrett - He’s close with his brothers (despite the age gap), his male cousins close in age to him, and his brothers-in-law. Sometimes a group of them will plan a fishing trip, or a hiking trip, or even just plan to go to the gym together. As the oldest boy, a lot of them look up to him for advice on different things.

Macie - Her closest friend in proximity to her right now is her mother, but she’s also got a great bond with her sister’s Adalynn and Zoe. They formed a strong bond over the course of their childhood, which continues to be strong even after her sisters got married and moved away. Macie’s role amongst her sisters was to always be the voice of reason in terms of the proper way things should be done, she’s also always willing to do something to help someone even if it is a detriment to herself.

Zoe - Zoe is close to her sisters mentioned above, and is now slowly forming a friend group of other military wives whose husbands are deployed in the same area that she is. Amongst her sisters, Zoe is the one to try her hardest to cheer someone up when they’re upset, and it always recommending them something that all cheer them up.

Maggie - Maggie has found a group of girls at her church and at her work that she gets along great with, her gregarious personality means that she’s always making people laugh and can crack joke after joke without pausing to take a breath. Maggie is also close to her sisters, but she’s closest to Macie as they were together a lot growing up, she’s close to her younger sisters as well and also takes on the role of joker in that friend group.

Reece - Reece is close to his brothers and his cousins, his easy going personality means that he can insert himself into any friend group and get along with most people. His quiet yet thoughtful nature means that people can ask him for advice and get thoughtful and helpful answers.

Fun Fact

[16] Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

oo this is interesting, let me pull them up and workout who is who

Adalynn - Sin: Gluttony - She really should've stopped having children like 2 kids ago, but here she is pregnant with kids 6&7 // Virtue: Patience --> She’s honed her patience after years of caring for her siblings and now her children.

Barrett - Sin: This one was a toss up between lust (9 children with idea how many more in the future) and gluttony (having too many damn children) // Virtue: Diligence - He’s willing to put in whatever work is needed to feed his family.

Macie - Sin: Envy - She’s jealous of all her siblings finding love whilst she’s single // Virtue: Chastity - she loved the extreme modesty rules her parents set in an effort to remain pure, and as a result teaches others about said rules.

Zoe - Sin: Pride - Zoe is talented and she knows it, she’s been praised for her talent since she was a child meaning she’s well aware of her skills // Virtue: Kindness - She truly is really nice, her sim in game has some of the best relationships with other people and a great reputation.

Maggie - Sin: Envy - Maggie spent her childhood envious of other people with more freedom than her to do what she couldn't, she was so envious that she married barely out of high school to make her own rules. // Virtue: Liberality - Maggie is always giving to charity and wants to spend her own money on her own choices, with charities being one of them.

Reece - Sin: Wrath - this is purely from when he and Stacie were still getting to know each other and he had to keep himself from whooping Stacie’s dads ass for being a dunderhead. // Virtue: Diligence - like his brother, he’s willing to do anything necessary for his family.

There was also 17 - but I have literally 0 experience with tarot cards 😂

WHEW this was a lot, but like I said, I enjoy doing these - as I was writing I literally added in somethings that I felt just matched the sims personality, so I have to go update the google doc 😂

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queenjunoking · 4 years ago

Text

Wolf Taming Pt 17

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation

Sasha just sat there looking wide-eyed at me, she was so adorable. She was so quick to anger, I loved watching her go on a tirade. But it was fun seeing her in a stunned silence. She was getting used to the low powered shocks enough not to yelp or cry from them, but I took the highest output this collar was capable of over 5 seconds instead of the simple zap her collar gave her. It wasn’t the first time I had been hit by a jolt of electricity like this, but I certainly didn’t think it would ever happen again.

“I think I’ve given you enough leeway for now, I think it’s time to start. No more talking for a while, stay on all fours and do what I say. Give me one final ‘yes Master’ and we will begin.” My muscles ached, I wanted to relax and rest. But I couldn’t give up this momentum.

“Yes Master…” She was quiet, barely audible. But it was good enough. I changed a few settings and Sasha was now stuck having to be silent and couldn’t stand upright at all.

“You know I already have certain expectations of you. There are two things I want you to do first if you want to go outside. First you’ll have to do is eat everything in your food dish, you need to eat something and it’s all I’m giving you for now. Second…" I looked at her litter box. "Well, I'm sure you know what I'm expecting of you. You've already done it once so I'm hoping you won't make a fuss about it. Consider this a morning routine, we'll go into what else I want when you finish with these two things."

I sat in front of the cage as Sasha awkwardly crawled away. I’d have to get her some knee pads, unfortunately the ones I had ordered hadn’t made their way here yet. It would make crawling much easier for her. Any amount of comfort I could give her while she had to do this was worth the price. Well, I told myself that. I didn’t pay for the express shipping for them so I guess it wasn’t worth any price.

Sasha leaned over her bowl and stared at the contents for a bit. I was having a harder time reading her emotions now than I had been. I thought I generally understood her moods, but in moments like this I couldn’t get into her head. Was she upset over what I was asking her to do? Sad that this is what she got? Was she angry about what I was doing?

“It’s food Sasha. Just eat. There are certainly worse things that people in your position get fed.”

It was a lot nicer than some got. I didn’t really understand what the problem was, Penny ate it. She had already eaten a piece earlier, why not just eat if you're hungry?

She looked at me, gave a small sigh and looked back to her dish. I waited patiently for another minute or two before she finally gave in. She bent down and took a small mouthful and began chewing. I’d never tried it myself, it was for pets obviously, but I’m guessing she found it less than adequate based on the grimace on her face as she slowly chewed it. I’m sure she’d get over it as the days passed.

The hesitation was growing after that first mouthful, but she’d have to get used to it. It was what she was getting for awhile. “There’s still more left in the bowl, clean your plate.” She gave me the side-eye and just stared at her bowl again. “Don’t you want to be a good girl? You’ll eat it eventually regardless, you may as well just do it.” She huffed at me and struggled to take a drink of water from her bowl. I’d be replacing it with a bottle that attached to the side of the cage, but it was good for her to have to get into the headspace of her role. Unfortunately compromises had to be made. Despite how good of a wolf Sasha was, she couldn’t really drink out of bowls on the floor very well. Realism tempered by visions. I didn’t want to be like some other owners that played out their fantasies that their things weren’t able to actually keep up with. I had realistic expectations. But I needed to establish the correct headspace first.

She ate a second mouthful, clearing the bowl. She should be happy I didn’t top it off this time. She swallowed and just stared at the empty bowl. I thought it went pretty well all things considered.

Then the waterworks started. Sasha had cried in front of me before, but she had always saved the full body ugly sobs for when she thought she was alone. Apparently this is what finally got to her. I was surprised to be honest, there were so many other things to reach the breaking point over. I had to navigate this carefully, if this was her breaking point I had to handle this with care to keep her in one piece.

“What’s wrong Sasha? Speak.” I suppressed a sigh. So much for momentum.

“I should be in class right now. Or practicing with my team. Or studying in the library. Not eating dog food so I can see some sunlight. What did I do to deserve this? I had to have done something wrong, what was it? Horrible things like this shouldn’t happen to people without a reason.” She wasn’t looking at me, she was just looking at the dish as she wept. If she thought this was a horrible fate I’d hate to see her reaction to the other things that were actually suffering. They’d kill to be in Sasha’s position.

I tried going for the soft angle. “Sweetheart, how many times are we going to go through this? Your old life doesn’t matter. You're here now and you are with me. You cannot go back. Even if I let you go for some reason, you’d just be taken by someone who is much worse than I am.”

“I-” she flinched as the shock hit her. She was getting very comfortable talking without permission. I’d have to correct the course on that.

“Speak.”

“I don’t think there could be anyone more mean spirited than you.” She finally looked at me, her eyes red.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve already shown you a picture to prove that isn’t true. No one else is ever going to give you the level of freedom I have.” I looked at Sasha and could see her visibly biting her tongue. “Speak.”

“At least they wouldn’t pretend to care about me.” It was barely a whisper, but she may as well have screamed it at me. That hit a sensitive spot.

I let that hang in the air between us. There was no need to respond to the mindless whining of a caged animal. I was nice and I did care about her. She just didn’t get it. She still didn’t understand what a mean person would do to her. I’m not sure she ever would if she still didn’t get it after last night.

“Well we have some more things to do before you get your chance to go outside. We aren’t moving on until you use the litter box and you’ll see why soon enough.” I motioned to it and watched her face turn a bright red. I didn’t really get what the big deal really was, she was naked all the time and had already humiliated herself in front of me by doing it before. It’s not like she’d ever have another choice in the matter.

She crawled over to the box and closed her eyes. I was really used to the things I worked with obeying me much quicker. On one hand her being slow to listen was always what I wanted. I liked watching her inner torment as she lowered herself to doing humiliating things. On the other hand it was excruciatingly painful for me to sit there without anything else to do. I couldn’t play on my phone, it drained the battery. I was stuck doing nothing which was the worst thing that could be happening. “Time is ticking away Sasha. The longer you take the less daylight you get to see.”

Her eyes opened a little and a small, irritated growl escaped her throat. I couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the portrait in front of me. A woman growling at me as she tried to use the bathroom. New activities were always fun, these moments would start slipping away as she got used to her new life. A few more minutes passed before I heard the tell-tale hiss. The fight fell away from Sasha again once she was done. She sulked away from the box and refused to make eye contact, waiting for me to say something.

“Such a good girl Sasha. You’ll get over your stage fright soon enough.” She didn’t respond to what I said. I was hoping for a glare or something fun.

“So, I said before I wanted you to do that before we got to the tricks. That’s because of one simple thing. Believe it or not, the cage is supposed to be a place of comfort for you. It is a place to relax. To eat and sleep. To recover. You should feel safe. You looked very relaxed when you got to leave, which means I messed up. So I decided I needed to change something.”

I pressed a button on the app and there was a click. Sasha looked up to see the cage door swinging open.

“Ready to learn some new tricks?”

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sykilik101 · 5 years ago

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Colloyd Week Day 2: Outfit Swap

Colette didn’t know the details, but from what she could gather, Lloyd had lost a bet.

Off on the other side of the campsite, just out of earshot, the swordsman was currently ranting at Zelos and Genis, neither of whom had lost their impish grins for the past few minutes. His expressions ranged from flabbergasted to irate to flustered, throwing his hands every which way as if hoping they would get across whatever point he was trying to make. Clearly it wasn’t working as the other two crossed their arms simultaneously, with Zelos poking a finger out towards the campsite.

Lloyd’s face fell as he scanned the rest of the group, though for what she wasn’t sure. His eyes slid over to Zelos, mouthing something with annoyance before his legs began carrying him forward. A flush adorned his face, his lip tucked between his teeth. It was a look she rarely saw on her friend, and she wondered if maybe there was something she could do to help, but before she could stand up she watched him make his way towards Sheena.

The girl looked up from the book she was reading, wearing a smile that was in stark contrast to the anxious one Lloyd donned. His hand found its way to the back of his head, his lips creating words that looked like they tasted funny in his mouth. In a flash Sheena’s gaze turned from jubilant to confused and eventually to exasperated, shaking her head and mumbling something with a wave of her hand. Lloyd nodded as if he’d expected her reaction, waving apologetically.

The next minute consisted of Lloyd repeating similar interactions with the Professor and Presea, although the Professor looked a bit more annoyed than the other two. He had turned back to Zelos and Genis, both of whom were reduced to snickers with each girl he talked to. Colette watched as Zelos held up a single finger and said something. Lloyd’s shoulders sagged, and slowly his pleading gaze turned to her.

Endless possibilities about what Lloyd could be going through consumed her imagination, and as he slowly approached her she couldn’t decide which one she wanted to believe. She opted to paste an inviting smile on her face, hoping that whatever was troubling him, she’d have a way to help.

“Uh, h-hi, Colette.”

The stutter was uncharacteristic to her normally cheery companion, and she was starting to worry that maybe his situation was more dire than she’d expected. “Hey, Lloyd. Is...something the matter?”

“Well, no, not really. I just...have a weird favor to ask.”

A gleam of optimism sprouted within her, taking solace in the notion that she’d be able to aid him after all. “What is it? If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.”

He looked unsure of what to do with his hands, opting to let one rest on his hip as the other scratched his cheek. One of his feet tapped against the ground, wisps of dust blending with the rest of the dirt on his boots. If restless was made incarnate, Lloyd was it, and it didn’t seem to ease up as he dragged his gaze back to hers.

“I sort of lost a bet with Zelos and Genis, and now I have to wear girl’s clothes.”

She’d expected all sorts of responses, but of all of them, this was far from what she could have predicted. Still, the idea of Lloyd in a dress tickled her fancy, and she covered up her incoming laughter with an endearing curiosity. “I didn’t know you owned girl clothes, Lloyd.”

His eyes narrowed by the tiniest margin, clearly sensing her hidden merriment. It was enough to undo her inner restraints, allowing a giggle to escape her. His face relaxed at this, resting both his hands on his hips. “As a matter of fact, I don’t, which is why I need to borrow some.” Some of his fluster sparked back into his cheeks, his eyes shifting to the side.

Colette tilted her head to the side. Borrow some? From who-

The nature of his predicament suddenly clicked in her head, a pouty blush creeping up on her. “Oh. So...you mean we’d have to trade outfits?”

Saying it aloud seemed to make his apprehension more potent, his mouth twisting in humiliation. “Yeah...something like that.” He turned back to her, waving his palms at her. “But if you don’t want to, it’s okay. It’s kind of a dumb thing to make me do.”

Even in his awkwardness she found an earnestness in his eyes that had drawn her to them for all the years they’d known each other. Deferring to Lloyd was a common occurrence for her, and her desire to see him relieved of his discomfort sent the words to her vocal cords before she had a chance to stop them. “Well, if you really want to, I’m okay with it.”

She couldn’t tell if he looked more surprised or confused at her reply. “Really?”

“Mhm. Besides, it’s not good to go back on a promise.”

“I don’t know if I’d call this a promise…” he mumbled, turning to glare at the duo with the playfully optimistic eyes. Holding up a weak thumbs up caused the pair to exclaim excitedly, whooping and cheering on their own.

Colette giggled once more, still perplexed at this ritual between the boys but amused all the same. “So where should we get changed?”

His already rosy cheeks flourished further as he glanced around the campsite, searching around for wherever the two could exchange clothes. He exhaled sharply as he raised his finger towards a pair of boulders off in the distance. “We should be able to get some privacy behind those.” His face twisted and a wave of apprehension washed over him. “I promise I won’t peek or try to look!”

The concept of Lloyd trying to peek at her as she changed was so unbelievable that she almost collapsed into another fit of giggles, but she imagined her assurance would work better for him than her laughter.

“It’s okay, I trust you, Lloyd.”

xxxxx

It hadn’t taken much effort to slip herself into Lloyd’s outfit, given that he had a few sizes over her. With her arms at her sides the cuffs of his jacket slipped over her hands. Despite his suspenders his pants waist band refused to cling to her hips, forcing her to grasp it to keep them from drooping too far down. It was a miracle she was able to walk from behind the boulder without tripping over, given how large his boots were over her feet. In spite of how silly she felt, deep down she savored the warmth of his clothes around her, as if Lloyd was embracing her, protecting her like he always had.

She was surprised to find the entire group standing before her, sans Regal who was in charge of dinner that night. Genis and Zelos grinned approvingly at her before turning back to Lloyd’s boulder, clearly far more interested in his wardrobe exchange. Presea seemed generally unphased by her appearance, but Sheena held her chin in her hand, head gently cocked to the side.

“It’s kind of big on you, but you actually pull those clothes off pretty well, Colette.”

She meant to move her hand atop her head out of flattery, but the excess sleeve fell over her head and flopped against her ear, adding more fuel to the giggle that had already been bubbling inside. “Hehe, thanks!”

The Professor, however, appeared less than thrilled at their antics. “It’s fine that Lloyd’s clothes cover you well enough, but I’m concerned about how he’s supposed to fit in yours.”

“You know, when you put it that way, I almost don’t wanna see him in Colette’s clothes,” Genis shrugged with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, I’m kinda with you on that one,” Sheena chimed in, resting her hand on her hip.

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be that egregious,” Zelos chuckled, though his comment did little to assuage the concerned looks of his companions. Rather than acknowledge their lack of faith in him he instead cupped his hand over his mouth. “Hey, Lloyd! You having some trouble over there, bud?”

“I’m fine...I’m just...trying to get this to fit…”

Not knowing which article of clothing he was referring to tickled at Colette’s fancy, though Zelos and Genis were clearly more amused. Between their snickering, Presea looked to the girl. “If Lloyd accidentally damages your clothes, I’m sure I could repair them without any trouble.”

The kind gesture warmed Colette’s heart and pulled the corners of her lips upwards. “Oh, that’s okay, I’m sure Lloyd is being really careful with them.”

“He’d better be, otherwise we’ll have a wardrobe malfunction on our hands, and I don’t think any of us want that.” Genis placed his hands behind his head, rocking side to side.

“Perhaps you or Zelos should go make sure everything fits properly before he comes out,” Raine responded, gently giving the boy a shove on the back with an amused grin.

“Not it!”

Their voices harmonized perfectly, prompting laughter from the rest of the group as they glared each other down. Before either could offer the first argument Lloyd’s voice rang from behind the boulder.

“Guys, I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

Zelos pulled himself away from his staredown with Genis, reviving his previous merriment. “Oh, come on, Lloyd, it can’t be that bad.”

As if to answer him, Lloyd inched himself out from behind the boulder. Colette’s top wasn’t especially snug on her, so Lloyd had some leeway as far as fitting into it, but it still clung tightly to his arms and chest. However, he clearly hadn’t managed to fit his legs into her tights or shoes, standing there pantsless and tugging at the bottom of her top to allow himself some decency.

Colette felt her face go hot, taking an unexpected extra second to take in the sight before looking away. Zelos and Genis howled with laughter, clutching their sides as they fell to the dirt. Sheena made a noise as her face went aflame, covering it and turning to the side. Presea also averted her gaze, though with far less theatrics than the Mizuho native. It was the Professor, however, who was the most incensed at his appearance.

“Lloyd Irving, cover yourself up this instant!”

“I’m doing the best I can, Professor!” He pulled harder at the hem of the top, looking to the cackling duo with shame and fluster in his glare. “Zelos, how long do I have to keep this on?”

I took a few moments for the redheaded Chosen to regain his composure, wiping a tear from his eye. “Well, I would hate for Raine to get mad at me for this, so you can get your clothes back after dinner. Is that alright with you, Colette?” he asked, turning to the girl.

She nodded, still at war with the heat and second-hand embarrassment coursing through her. “Okay.” It was all she could manage to say, still coping with the reality that she and Lloyd had (mostly) traded outfits.

Lloyd looked to her, his grip on her top tightening. “I-I’ll do my best not to mess this up, okay?”

In spite of everything entertaining about the situation, all Colette could do was grin softly. “Okay.”

Seemingly satisfied with this response, Lloyd grit his teeth, meandering towards the campsite. Sighs and residual chuckles resounded as the party watched him trek forward, though all shared a laugh at the sound of Lloyd’s voice erupting. “It’s because I lost a bet, Regal!”

Zelos was the first to begin heading back. “Let’s go get dinner over with so we can put Lloyd out of his misery.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, though some were more at unease than others. As footsteps trekked away from the boulders Colette held her place, rubbing the cloth of the jacket between her fingers. She could still smell his scent in the fabric, still imagining the way the sleeves moved and stretched as he fought. With the others gone she allowed a wavering sigh to escape her. Her eyes closed and snapshots of the ways Lloyd walked, worked, played, and lived raced through her mind. Oxygen tasted sweeter as she pulled his outfit closer, savoring her private indulgence.

“Colette, come on, we’re all waiting for you!”

Genis’s voice ripped her from her reverie, the mental hue of brown eyes vanishing in an instant. Her throat tightened for a moment as she prayed that the ruby tint of her cheeks wasn’t noticeable from afar. The boy stood there curiously, oblivious to her swordsman musings. “Coming!”

The images wouldn’t leave her as the fireplace grew closer, but the sight of her friends focused on making cracks at Lloyd’s predicament gave her blush the perfect camouflage. Between the banter and how much food Lloyd could eat, it was likely she would have more time with his clothing than she expected. A small smile worked its way onto her lips; perhaps she could intervene, stall a little. She didn’t intend to embarrass Lloyd any further, but maybe she could delay dinner from ending right away. Maybe she could keep him close to her, just a little longer.

xxxxx

I actually had a lotta fun with this one. I’m not the most satisfied with some parts, but as a whole, I really like this story.

#colloyd #colloydweek #colloydweek2020 #lloyd irving #colette brunel #tales of series #tales of symphonia #fanfiction #fanfic

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kbmercer · 4 years ago

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Ch.1, Part 2: Encounter

My Heroic Pokemon Squad (A Pokemon/My Hero Academia Crossover)

Summary:

After receiving an emergency call to assist in sedating the legendary pokémon of time and space, Top Ranger (Y/n) (L/n) gets caught in the crossfire of their rampage. Sent barreling into a world unknown, (L/n) must now navigate her new surroundings and somehow find a way home. Yet, the aftermath of a momentary rift between dimensions carries drastic repercussions, especially considering that pokémon had never existed in this place to begin with. Not only that, but it seems humanity here have powers of their own, not unlike that of the creatures she has grown to love.

Arrival at the police department was a quiet one. (Y/n) had relegated herself to sticking closes to Midnight and avoiding any further conversation as they walked. It was the middle of the night, indicated by how the white moon shined over the industrious buildings they passed. The girl was already nervous about what her future held, and the darkened city scape was not helping at all. (Y/n) could feel the pokéballs secured in her bag rumbling in response to her racing heart and quickly pats the duffel in response as to console them. The effort was rather lackluster, but they seemed to get a clue as the movement dwindled. Please wait just a little bit longer.

(Y/n) would have collided into the back of Midnight if the drafty officers’ facility hadn’t pulled her from her subconscious. She halts just in time and takes a clumsy step backward before realigning herself. Bringing her eyes up to look up at the purple-haired woman. She was peering back at her with a hardened look in her blue eyes – not out of any suspicion or reluctance but reassurance.

“Here we are.” There’s a brief moment of silence between the two before she continues.

“Don’t worry yourself too much. I’ll be with you until we can get the problem sorted, m’kay?”

(Y/n) didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, having the support of somebody who is familiar with the area was a blessing, but the (e/c)-eyed girl couldn’t help but feel like this was too good to be true. Midnight notices her hesitance.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” (Y/n) huffs.

“I’m just some random stranger to you. I’d understand if you directed me here and left about your day but…” Midnight raises an eyebrow at the deduction. What an astute kid (Y/n) was. She gives a small laugh.

“Maybe so but helping people in need is part of my job as a pro-hero. This is par of the course.”

Pro-hero? Was that this world’s equivalent to pokémon rangers?

Midnight was particularly grateful about how easy to read (Y/n) is. While the young teen didn’t have much to say, the words unspoken were capable of being interpreted all by analyzing her stance and facial expressions. The Top Ranger’s body was as rigid as ever, as if any simple movement could cause issue. Yet, in her eyes – the mention of being a pro-hero garnered her interest, but the scrunched brow and head-tilt of curiosity suggested inquisitiveness. Either she didn’t know that Midnight was a pro-hero, or she didn’t know about pro-heroes altogether. Strange. The R-Rated Hero decides to keep these thoughts to herself for the time being and continues to walk through Musutafu’s police division before eventually stopping at a reception desk. A tired looking lady with light blue hair pinned in a messy bun was sat behind the desk; a thick glass panel separated them from her. Glancing from her work on the computer screen, the woman’s plum-colored eyes brighten in recognition.

“Fancy seeing you here Midnight. To what do I have the pleasure of helping you with?”

(Y/n) inadvertently releases a small sound of distaste. The shift in formality was making the girl second guess herself. Kayama doesn’t allow her to even consider backing out, patting her on the shoulder as if telling her to snap out of it. The receptionist has since noticed (Y/N)’s presence putting two and two together.

“I see you’ve bought a guest. Is everything alright?”

“Unfortunately, not. This young lady here says that she washed up on the beach and doesn’t know of her whereabouts.” Desk lady lets out a hum of sympathy.

“Well. First things first, we’re currently located in Musutafu, Japan. Is that ringing any bells?” (Y/n) shakes her head ‘no’.

Both women were mildly shocked. Musutafu isn’t by any means a small area. The business done here specifically concerning work with pro-heroes makes the area well-known not only domestically but internationally. Given the leeway, Midnight proceeds to ask her own question.

“The only beach closest to here is Takoba. Even so, that’s pretty far. How long have you been here since that point?” This inquiry was a big one and (Y/n)’s eyes widened at the realization of that. If anyone were to be the most up-to-date with recent affairs it’d be governments and the powers in place. The ranger had ended up on the municipal beach around the same time. Telling her the truth would immediately draw correlation. (Y/n) wouldn’t be so naïve as to think that this information wouldn’t eventually come to light, but everything seemed to be moving so fast. She had to think quickly.

Yet, before she could give a false answer, a rather large assembly door some distance away had flew open. A squadron of officers march into the corridor of the department building causing (Y/n) to jump. Her mind raced with fear. Had they found her out??? She promptly took a few seconds of time to access the uniform-clad group before concluding that they were clearly not out to get her. On the contrary, they were headed out of the building in hurry. An emergency situation no doubt…

Midnight dismisses the question. She can receive (Y/n)’s answer at another time. The dispatch was more important.

“What’s going on here?” An officer which appears to be a bipedal cat (?), hears the R-Rated Hero and swiftly turns before assuming a square stance.

“We’ve received a call about a quirked animal terrorizing the locals to the west, Ms. Midnight! So far, we’ve had Kamui Woods, Gang Orca, and Eraserhead answer the call.

“And I’m gonna join them,” her decision was resolute. The cat officer makes no move to reject the offer, though why would he? There’s strength in numbers and any help that can be given to rid of any threat is much appreciated. Plus, as soon as these quirked animals were discovered, Midnight has wanted to know what she was working with. She was sure every hero did, because dealing with these creatures was a new problem that they’d have to get accustomed to. Just like similar events that have happened prior…

Kayama turns to (Y/n), her demeanor taking a 180° from the lax attitude she held previously.

“Stay here,” she says before moving to depart with her comrade.

As the young ranger watched Midnight leave (Y/n)’s face appeared blank; indecipherable. She was caught in her head after having listened to what the officer had said. A pokémon terrorizing civilians? While the creatures could get themselves into petty trouble with humans, it’s not very often that situations will escalate any further, especially in such a heavily populated area like a city. Nevertheless, the word “terrorize” is a rather brazen term to use. Is this pokémon rather large and capable of great damage or is it simply scary looking with the emergency being reported in exaggeration?

Regardless of what the answer was, all (Y/n) wanted to do was go and see for herself. Just because she was told to stay doesn’t mean that she was going to. Though, before she was going to follow after them, she needed to prep—a task that is kind of hard if she has no idea what kind of pokémon she’d be going up against. This is a big chance for the girl to prove herself and she wasn’t going to let it slip. So, (Y/n)’s attention whips to the blue-haired receptionist swiftly and passionately. The woman jolts at the teen’s spike in enthusiasm.

“Hey, I’m curious. I’ve seen shows on TV that follow the heroes while they do their thing? Ya know, fighting their enemies or whatever. Yeah, do they broadcast cast at night? ‘Cause I wanna watch!”

#crossover #fanfiction #pokemon #my hero academia #shonen #nintendo

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laylacooke · 5 years ago

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Go Our Own Way || Celeste & Layla

timing: The night of the attack on Lucas. parties: @celestelavie & @laylacooke summary: A bummed Layla has a heart-to-heart with a supportive Celeste. ♥ warnings: Mention of abuse, because of Layla & Celeste’s shitty parents.

Celeste felt a certain affinity for Layla that she hadn’t quite experienced before. It was rare to exist in the realm of both hunters and werewolves. There was a certain contradiction to it that made you an outlier in both worlds with neither truly embracing you as you were. Once she learned Layla came from a hunter family, she could understand her hesitance to trust other wolves. She only hoped that others could show her the same kindness and acceptance that Ulfric and Ariana had. The poor girl was just a kid, she needed someone to care for her and show her how to navigate the world as a werewolf, not to be forced to live on the streets. She knew the damage Layla must have caused, but she had help now.

She was looking forward to spending the evening with the younger woman while Ulfric and Ariana were out investigating that howl. She didn’t necessarily love Ariana walking into danger, but she had to trust the two of them knew how to handle themselves. She’d trained Ariana to be prepared for this sort of thing. Spending the time and talking with Layla would distract her from her own worry. She had felt Layla approach before the front door ever clicked open. Over the years, she’d gotten used to having goosebumps a majority of the time. The constant edge alerting you of someone’s presence. It had been unnerving at first, but she’d become accustomed to it. When she heard Layla walk in, she went back out into the living area to greet her and help put groceries away. “Hey, Layla,” she called as she walked out, “I hope there were no mime sightings on your outing?”

It had only been a few days since Layla had experienced her first decent injury, and while she still felt the occasional light-headedness, it was mostly her ribs that gave her trouble, so when Layla had returned with a borrowed shopping cart full of groceries, it was no longer apparent that she could hide anything from Celeste, unless Ariana had already told her, “No, mime sightings.” Thank goodness. That was the last thing she could handle right now. “But I did get potatoes for the banned French Fries.” She pushed the cart up as close to the trailer steps as she could, before she had picked up a few bags; deciding not to “strong woman” it today and get them all in one go.

As she slowly walked up the steps, she spoke, “So... you’re positive Ariana and Ulf don’t need my help, because I can go, if they need back up.” Since she had met Ari, Celeste, and Ulf, all Layla had wanted was to learn how to be a werewolf. Out of all the wolves she had heard about, she had truly felt like the weakest of the pack. It had been a blow to her self-esteem, when she was told to stay home, but at the same time, she knew it was probably for the best and hiding her injuries from the fight with Fran and Rio, didn’t exactly help her case, but just in case they had changed their mind, she had to ask.

Teenagers were damn good at finding trouble, though after two mime encounters of her own, Celeste decided she hardly had room to judge. She was still sore as hell from reopening the stitches on her leg after fighting Kaden’s mime. Ariana had casually mentioned it and she knew better than to press. She had a little more leeway with telling Ariana what to do, but even her input on that seemed pretty nonexistent these days. It was no matter; Layla had made it home safely and mime free. “I suppose I should make those French fries I promised you then.” She set the groceries down on the counter and unloaded them into the fridge and cabinets, leaving a few potatoes out to make French fries with shortly.

Celeste’s head tilted to the side slightly, her lips curved slightly upward and her eyes soft, as she answered, “Layla, we’re both injured. Ariana and Ulfric are better off without us slowing them down.” She could tell she wanted to help. It seemed she and Ariana had quickly become attached. Wanting to help the people she cared for was something Celeste could understand, but there was far too much at risk. “One day I’m sure you’ll be out there trying to save the day with them. This is all still new to you and when you’re not physically at your best is not the time to be charging right in.” While she was not necessarily helpful with the wolf stuff, her face lit up as she exclaimed, “You know, once we’re both healed up, we could practice some more self-defense. I’m sure your parents made you practice plenty, but I’ll try to make it more fun than educational… Do pink boxing gloves make things more fun?”

Layla sat her own haul down, “You don’t have to make them just for me. We can wait.” Turning around, she slowly walked back out to the cart. Grabbing the rest of it, she came back in and shut the door behind her with her foot. Putting the rest of the bags on the counter, she started to take out the remaining items, but made sure to stay out of Celeste’s way. The kitchen was already small enough as it was and two people putting away groceries was a nearly impossible feat. Instead, she went to the couch and sat down. Leaning back, Layla closed her eyes for a moment trying to let her body relax with the release of a quivering sigh.

The woman’s words seemed to have caught her attention, “Ari told you, didn’t she?” Layla looked to the floor with defeat. How had she been so stupid to go out and get herself injured already. She had just found a place to stay and someone to hang out with, and, now, she was missing out on potentially learning all the ways she could use her curse for good. “I know, but you don’t get it, Celeste...I finally find people like me who accept me, and they’re out there doing things I need to know how to do, if I want to be able to survive, and then just like everyone else, they shut me out.” She growled under her breath, her eyes burning in frustration, but with a few, slow, and currently painful, deep breaths, she calmed down to see a smile on Celeste’s face, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go get my bow.” She realized what Celeste might think, “Not tonight obviously. Lord knows we wouldn’t want baby wolf sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong.” She realized she was being temperamental, “Sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” Had Layla even told Celeste, Ari, or Ulf that she carried a bow with her? If not, she did now.

Celeste nodded, “French fries when everyone gets home it is.” A little more time relaxing would be nice. Her leg was still throbbing from where she had to re-stitch it and she was secretly hoping Ariana would cook anyhow. She turned to Layla and smiled as she took the seat beside her on the couch. They hadn’t much of a chance to speak alone. Given, it was a fairly crowded trailer at this point.

She shook her head lightly, it had been obvious she was a little sore, but Ariana had mentioned as much when she told her they weren’t asking Layla to come along for tracking down the howl. Even Ariana going with Ulfric wasn’t something she had necessarily approved of, but to some extent, she had to let the girl make her own choices. She’d trained her well and hopefully that would come into play. “She did mention it,” Celeste reasoned, “I know you want to help and one day you will be.” She shifted in her seat, trying to put more weight on her uninjured leg. Her face was serious as she looked at Layla and explained, “Sometimes the best thing to do to help is stay put. It’s the same reason I’m here right now. We’re both injured which means we’re not at our best. A small mistake can be costly to everyone’s well being. Give it time, you’ll heal, and you’ll learn even more, and I have no doubt with your training, you’ll be unstoppable.” It was strange how she could see both herself and Ariana in Layla. Considering her parents wanted her dead, she had no doubt their childhoods were similar, but she had Ariana’s hot head. She sighed lightly, “I don’t believe it’s like that, Layla. Ari cares for you, I’m sure she doesn’t want you rushing off into danger when you’re already hurt. I’m sure soon enough she’ll be wanting you coming along everywhere with your bow on the ready.” She offered a small laugh, hoping the girl was a little more at ease. Offering her a good amount of support was vital, but it wasn’t always easy to know how to help. Her eyes lit up, “You know what we could do tonight that would be helpful and not too strenuous?” She slowly rose from the couch and pointed toward the window, “Have you seen the little weird squirrels in the yard? They’re agropelters and they have a real appetite for fingers. I have some traps we could set, but if you wanted to practice with moving targets, I’ve got a few weighted knives that’d do the trick.”

Layla was kind of caught up in her own mind and thoughts when Celeste had sat down next to her. She knew the woman didn’t know her that well. She also knew that she had been acting childish. This world was still new, and even more so with all the strange and weird creatures it held. She had only learned about a handful with her parents; partly because she hadn’t been interested. Their ideals and laws just hadn’t set well with her. But for that, she was now paying the price. Getting herself into more trouble than she could handle in a town she had never even heard of.

As she let her eyes fall onto Celeste, she listened without much debate. Everything she was saying held the truth. Layla was just eager and headstrong. She wanted to prove herself to everyone and show that taking a chance on her wasn’t a mistake. It hurt when people hadn’t even given her a chance, and now that they were, she didn’t want to blow it. But if she couldn’t keep herself safe, how was she supposed to keep anyone else safe. Basic principles of psychology that she had learned in her class in school, “I know everything that you guys are telling me is true. I guess I just don’t want to fail at this. I’ve already been kicked to the curb more times than I can count and letting down the people who actually decided to take a chance on me is the last thing I want to do.” She sighed, but Celeste’s suggestion had caught her attention, “Agro-whats?” She had seen those squirrels. They were cute in a hideous sort of way, but she didn’t know they fed off fingers. However, the idea of killing them had Layla sinking back down again, “Something I should probably explain...One of the reasons me and my parents didn’t get along so well was my belief in pacifism and not hurting living creatures or causing violence. Unfortunately, it seems like no matter what I do now, especially when I change, I can’t get away from it. And my bow...I shoot competitively, not to hunt…Thought I should clear that up as well. Some werewolf I am…”

Celeste knew she had to grow up faster than most. Outside of the ultimate act of defiance in hunter families, she had to quickly learn to be level-headed in order to care for a child. Even with Ariana, it was easy to forget just how normal teenagers acted without having supernatural drama even thrown into the mix. She reminded herself patience was key if she wanted to be able to help. At the mention of pacifism, she could see why she really didn’t seem to fit into the hunter world aside from the fact she was a werewolf. That also had to be a principle that was difficult for a young, recently turned werewolf to maintain as well.

“You’re not letting anyone down. No one wants you to be anything more or less than what you are,” she assured. To find any sort of peace, she was going to need to embrace some part of her nature, but that would take time and adjusting. She could understand the parents thing though. Hunting had never really been something that held Celeste’s passion. While she always desired to help people in some way, she never quite saw how hunting was the best way to do so. It didn’t matter that her father forced her into a number of terrifying scenarios, part of it just always felt wrong. The boom of her father’s voice had always been more fearful than any of the small monsters he’d try to put in front of her. Until she’d been faced with the reality of having to kill a child, she thought she’d be able to fit into that perfect little mold her parents had built for her. She looked to Layla, “Then we’ll leave the strange squirrels alone. Classic target practice it is. I’d never want to make you do something you’re uncomfortable with. I’ve been there myself. I’ve clearly really taken on hunter ideology.” She reached over to give Layla a gentle pat on the shoulder, “What being a werewolf is for you will look different for you than it will for anyone else. That doesn’t make you more or less deserving of support from those you care for.”

How had Layla managed to find people so like her own personal situation? She knew they had their own unique set of issues, but the fact that together, it was as if the girl saw herself in both Ariana and Celeste. Regardless, she was grateful to be with them, despite the ever-growing doubts about certain things that regularly plagued her mind. Still, though, she would be hard pressed to find another set of people willing to take her in who understood what her life had become in a little less than a year. And while she had wished so badly that she could be out following Ariana and Ulf around, this time with Celeste was turning out to be so much more valuable than she could have imagined.

Taking the woman’s words to heart, she made sure to tuck them away in her memory, so she could think back later and reassess all the things Celeste had said to her. But one of the biggest things that had made her trust Celeste more, and accept what this night was becoming, was how she had accepted Layla’s beliefs and wasn’t trying to pressure her into anything, “You don’t know how much what you just said means to me. If it were my parents, they would be forcing me to hunt those squirrel things right now, even if I begged them not to make me do it.” She looked into the woman’s eyes, “Thank you, Celeste.” Layla felt the pat on her shoulder and the kind words to follow but knowing that she would get to throw something at a target had brought a smile to her face. She hadn’t shot her bow in so long. She had missed the feeling of it, and even if knives were different, she had found a reason to be a little happier. However, as she climbed to her feet, she could feel the pressure in her ribs, and she winced in pain.

Sometimes a little patience could go a long way. It was a virtue that Celeste had made a point of adopting into her everyday life. People could really surprise you when you weren’t pushing them too hard or too quickly in an undecided direction. It would likely be a long while before Layla truly felt comfortable with what she was and that was perfectly okay. Everyone did things in their own time and that was something Celeste had to remind herself of everyday. It was easy enough to feel like she’d been behind where she was supposed to be herself. Taking care of a child had played a big role in that, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. It just meant her timeline wasn’t quite the same as everyone else’s.

There was a soft smile on her face as Layla thanked her. She hadn’t thought she said anything too profound, but she knew just how much showing support to someone could make all the difference. As she leaned back into the couch cushion, she reassured, “Of course. I know how that goes and I wouldn’t force it on anyone else. I always hated being forced into that kind of stuff, too, though I never dared to argue it. Well, not until… I’m sure you can fill in the blanks seeing as I’ve essentially raised a werewolf.” As a kid, her father had somehow managed to be more frightening than any of the creatures he’d put her up against. Hunting them had never brought her much satisfaction, but it had provided security that neither the creature nor her father would hurt her. The thought made her stomach twist slightly. It’d only be a matter of time before she was forced to see the man again. Her mom would be easy enough to deal with. Her father was a whole different story. Something about his presence made her feel like she was regressing, and she’d been thankful Ariana had been far away the last time she’d seen him. She knew she appeared a bit spaced out and shook her head slightly to see Layla wincing as she stood. “You know, we can save target practice for when we’re both feeling better. My leg isn’t a fan of the whole standing thing right now anyhow. How about I put Legally Blonde on?”

The idea of a movie instead had sounded better to Layla. As much as she wanted to throw knives at a target, she also didn’t really want to move either. She had gotten into a few tight spots on her journey north from Tennessee, but nothing as intense as she had currently been in.

Deciding to sit back down, she eased her way back into the nice, worn couch, “Guess I didn’t anticipate how painful broken ribs could be.” She sighed. Though she had been excited about going outside, until her body told her no, she had let what Celeste said swim around in her head. Her parents had a knack for forcing her into situations she didn’t want to be in and killing and hunting things was one of them. But for a moment, she tried to put herself in Ariana’s shoes, wondering what it would be like to be raised by Celeste, instead of her parents, and it brought a soft smile to her face. It also brought sadness into her heart knowing she never would have met her girlfriend had life been different, “Do you ever wish life could be different?” She didn’t want to offend or upset the woman, but she was curious. “Like if your parents had just been normal and you could just be normal?”

The weight of Layla’s question sat on her. Celeste knew the answer wasn’t quite so simple. Even when they were on the run, the bond she’d built with Ariana was something she cherished. In a lot of ways, she felt the young wolf saved her from a much darker path, but had she just been from a normal family, Ariana would probably still be living happily and peacefully with hers. Or maybe she wouldn’t have. It was hard to say. She chewed her lip as she thought it over. “That’s not an easy one, kid.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees as she went on, “In darker moments, sure, I’ve wished things were different. That I could worry about solely normal things, but when I really think about it, I wouldn’t trade what I’ve gained in place of and because of any of that pain. Even if things are complicated, I’ve loved being able to take care of Ariana.” With a glance around the living room, which was becoming filled with all of their things, she was reminded of the kindness the world had to offer even when things seemed bleak. “Things are a bit rough right now with the whole bounty thing, but there’s still light in it all. Take Ulfric, taking all of us in, even given what I am and what you were raised to be. It doesn’t mean things aren’t hard, but I think it’s important to remember that there’s good even in the bad. At least, I’ve found it helps.”

Layla had been struggling to see the good in things, especially in people. The way she had been treated after the bite had broken her heart. The only person who had continued to show her kindness had been Frankie, and even that led to her making a dire decision that had wrecked their relationship, because of the consequences of Layla being a baby werewolf. But after she had fled her home, it was relying on other people and packs that had allowed Layla to see some of the true hatred, anger, and self-concern that lived in some people. Being shunned felt horrible, and on most days, she had found fending for herself a way to protect her heart, rather than taking a chance on strangers who continually seemed to let her down. It’s why she still found doubt in Ariana, Celeste, and Ulfric sometimes, wondering if there were more selfish motives at play, instead of what was best for Layla, “I’m glad that you guys have each other, and that Ulf was able to take you in, even with his instincts probably screaming no.” She had thought about Celeste’s answer. Had taken it to heart even, but it was still hard to fully give herself to these people, when she had only known them for less than a month, and it’s why she still remained closed off to what they had to offer to her most of the time for fear of what lay just around the corner.

Celeste remained quiet for a moment. As odd as their current situation was, she was grateful for Ulfric. It was obvious enough he was weary of her though he did his best to hide, but he’d made it clear he’d do anything to keep Ariana safe. There was a good chance things would get dangerous when her parents arrived. No matter what happened, it was a comfort to know that Ariana would have Ulfric. It was a darker thought. Even so, she didn’t mind acknowledging it. She gave Layla a somewhat wistful look, hoping for the day when they could have their own home again. With a weak smile, she explained, “Ulfric has shown us a great deal of kindness. I know Ariana is very attached to him and it’s evident he’s very protective of her. I know his instincts are against my very existence, but I admire his ability to overlook that and focus on the greater cause. He’s very keen on protecting both of you the best he can.” If her parents could hear her now, they’d probably slap her or worse. She hoped it offered some comfort to Layla knowing that Ulfric was inclined to protect both of them. It must have been some sort of pack instinct that he took to heart. She had to be grateful for it. “Trust takes time, though. One day, I’m sure we’ll all learn to trust each other,” she offered. These things took time, but she had no doubt one day Layla would realize that they all wanted to be here for support.

Celeste seemed well beyond her years with the advice she had given Layla, and the young wolf knew that it was all from the heart. The doubt that filled her mind was hard to break but sitting next to someone who reminded her so much of herself was reassuring. She listened intently as the woman explained things to her, including trust. And it was true. It would take time. Layla hadn’t known Ulfric like Celeste and Ariana had. She barely knew Celeste, but they had taken a chance on her. And Ariana was quickly becoming a friend she could whole-heartedly trust and rely on. Yes, the fact that she wasn’t out with the wolves investigating had stung a little, but she had her own inner demons to work on. However, tonight was supposed to be something different. Celeste had promised her a movie, and Layla had turned it into something more serious, but she was ready to move past that. At least for the time being, “You’re right. It does, and this was supposed to be a fun night. Not Baby Wolf moping night. I’m sorry. I’ve got a bad habit of doing that.” She glanced around wondering where they kept the movies, “You said something about Legally Blonde?” A movie and a good laugh were something they had both needed, and the night was still young. No, Layla wasn’t learning how to wolf, but she was learning how to become the one thing she was so desperately trying to cling to, being a better human, and who better than to learn from, but a human herself.

#para: go our own way #celestelavie #wickedswriting #abuse tw

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spicyfloaty · 4 years ago

Text

Give & Take | Chapter 6

pairing: kacchako

genre: slowburn/fluff

words: 3.2k

summary: Ochako's grades are slipping. Bakugo is dangerously nearing suspension, or worse, expulsion. A certain twist of fate pairs them together for tutoring sessions. He teaches her math. She keeps him from getting suspended. A simple exchange, but what if this only brings them closer than necessary?

header credits: @alexbenedetto

[READ ON AO3]

Chapter Five

Chapter Six: Bakugo Drools In His Sleep

Bakugo manages to show up for the next couple of sessions, all of them, thankfully. Ochako’s almost used to the routine of bickering with him for at least ten minutes before their actual sessions start, then to be followed by more bickering in between topics. As much as it was tempting to shove an entire pencil case down his throat whenever they would argue over the littlest of things Bakugo would deem worthy of being remotely upset about, such as times when she would forget to round up a decimal or factor a term, she can’t deny the fact that she was still learning nonetheless.

Ochako had also grown accustomed to the close proximity they would consistently share, it didn’t look like Bakugo had any intention of finding another desk to use, let alone another pen. They were all so familiar to her now, though she must admit that there were still moments when she would need to exert a considerable amount of effort to force all thoughts pertaining to how close he was to the most hidden and secluded areas of her brain. Something she still has yet to get used to was Bakugo never failing to immediately take off the second her alarm goes off.

She had never needed to use his number during the last weeks and Bakugo had never needed to use hers. She’d know this since she has been checking her phone out of habit now just in case he does. It’s not like she wanted him to text her or something like that, she just didn’t want to miss anything important that could come up at any moment.

“You’re gonna end up spraining your wrist if you keep checking your phone every five seconds.” Kit points out, leaning against the counter. They were in the middle of a self-proclaimed break since there weren’t any new customers coming in the cafe during this time of the evening, this only gave Ochako more time to habitually check her phone for new text messages.

“Waiting for a text from your boyfriend?” Her coworker grins at her as if he’s caught her hand inside the cookie jar.

She swiftly sets her phone face down the counter, she might have to check it for cracks later, “No! I mean--He’s not my boyfriend.” She sputters out, blushing from behind the counter.

Kit’s grin only grows a mile wider, “So there’s a he?” He presses. Ochako feels cornered against a wall, her face must have been giving all the stoplights in Japan a run for their money and it does not help her intentions of trying to convince Kit that this he wasn’t someone of importance.

“Well yeah,” She begins, but Kit’s eyebrows skyrocket through the roof, “but it’s not what you’re thinking!” She quickly adds.

Kit pushes himself off the counter and turns to face her with the full force of his skepticism, “Right.” he glances down at her phone, “So is there a reason why you’re waiting for this he to shoot you a text?”

Ochako only gives him the same answer that she gives herself whenever she asks the same thing, “I just...don’t want to miss anything important, that’s all.”

“I don’t know, ‘Chako,” he points at her face, “from the looks of it, you are missing something,” he smiles, “or someone.”

She shoots him a glare that fully conveyed the two words she had locked and loaded inside this look, Shut Up. Math wasn’t the only thing she had been learning from Bakugo and if she does it just right, she’d also be able to replicate the bone-chilling scowl that he pairs with it to complete the expression.

Kit holds both hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it, geez.” he concedes, “Since when did you give death glares?”

Since Bakugo Katsuki, that’s when, is what she would have said if she had wanted to continue this interrogation from her coworker, “I don’t know, I just naturally got better at it for some reason.” she observes, “How was it?”

“Terrifying.” Kit echoes out as he makes his way to the doors upon spotting a group of people beginning to approach the cafe, “Ready, ‘Chako?”

Ochako straightens herself up, promptly adjusting her cap while giving her phone one last glance, “Ready when you are, Kit.”

Kit cheerfully greets the group of newcomers, two girls from the lot giggle after he gleefully escorts them to their tables. Ochako discreetly chuckles at this, her coworker was conventionally attractive, yes, but she can’t help but think of him only as an older brother. Her crushing on Bakugo would be a more plausible scenario than her crushing on her coworker. She physically pauses from handing a customer their change the moment she realizes that she could have worded that comparison better, forcefully shoving the thought behind her head

Her shifts during the weekdays had always been the tougher ones since she had school immediately before. She had always been arriving to work late, bustling through the evening commute just to avoid passing the thirty minute grace period her boss had given her, but thanks to Aizawa’s schedule, she was being dismissed from class two hours early to give her more leeway time for her job and less of a workout/marathon whenever she rushed to the neighboring town.

Ochako was cleaning the countertop when she hears someone clear their throat, she looks up to see a woman smiling at her, “Hi,” she begins in a honeyed voice, “I was just wondering when I’ll be seated, I’ve been standing here for forever now.”

Her tight-lipped smile makes her stomach drop to her feet, she glances towards Kit’s direction and notices that he was busy serving two tables near the back. Her eyes flicker to the other tables and seeing as to how all those tables were occupied, she gulps.

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am.” Ochako says gently, “There aren’t any available seats yet, but I’m sure there’ll be one soon.” she gestures towards the exit, “You can sit at the waiting area outside in the meantime.” She offers her a sweet, apologetic smile, but the woman’s smile quickly twists into a frown.

“I’ve done enough waiting as it is and you’re gonna send me back out there to do that again?” She sneers.

Ochako had dealt with customers like these before but it doesn’t make it any easier whenever she gets lucky and encounters one again, “I’m really sorry, ma’am, but we had already reached our full capacity,” she tries to explain, “Would you like your order to go so you won’t have to wait any longer?” Her effort to make the situation better was ignored, the woman’s scowl deepens into a grimace.

“This is ridiculous! I want to be seated at a damn table!” She raises her voice just enough so that a few people seated at the front tables curiously look their way, “I’m not asking you to do the impossible here, young lady.”

You kind of are, she thinks to herself. Ochako can’t just make random seated patrons disappear into thin air just like that, she can’t exactly just make some of them go away either just to satisfy the impatient customer in front of her. She quickly scans the cafe once more, praying for a table to miraculously become available.

“Hello?” A hand snaps in front of her face, “Are you deaf? Or just dumb?”The woman icily asks.

Ochako would have snapped right then and there after that comment, but another thing she’s learned from her tutoring sessions with Bakugo was to know when to respond to a rude remark and when to just ignore it and keep a level head. She observes the lady one more time, noticing the business attire she had on. Maybe she’s just having a rough day at work, she assumes. The woman might also be tired and hungry, which would explain why she was having this kind of reaction over a mild inconvenience.

“There’s really nothing I can do about the seats, ma’am,” she begins, “but I can offer you a complimentary snack on the house while you wait for one?”

Ochako knew that the cafe doesn’t do complimentary snacks so this would come out of her own pocket if the lady were to accept her offer, but she brushes off the concern. She felt like it was the right thing to do.

The woman rolls her eyes, “Oh, save it for someone who cares, I’m gonna have to call your manag--”

“Sorry for the wait, ma’am, right this way to your table.” Kit arrives with semi-perfect timing, flashing the woman one of his million dollar smiles. She visibly blushes at the sight of him, but she is quick to compose herself as she follows him to the newly vacant table. Kit looks back at her and mouths Sorry about that, but she shakes her head and mouths a Thank you back at him.

A few busy hours go by and it was already the end of their shifts. Ochako let out a strained yawn as she stretched her arms behind her head, another day at work had left her bone tired as usual, but today had just sucked the soul out of her. She changes into her casual clothes, but leaves the top of her uniform on since she forgot to bring an extra shirt today.

“I’ll walk you to the station?” Kit offers as she exits the break room.

“Oh! You don’t have to.” She immediately declines, “I’ll be fine on my own.” It was pretty late at night so she understands that Kit just wanted to make sure she got home safely.

“Alright.” he smiles, “See you next week, ‘Chako”

She bids him goodbye as she made her way outside, the hum of jazz music inside the cafe now replaced with the myriad of bustling pedestrians and the chorus of cars huddled in traffic. Her legs were heavy, but they still managed to carry her all the way to the station. She would have slept through the entire train ride and missed her stop if it weren’t for the sweet old lady that tapped her on the shoulder to wake her up.

Ochako finally arrives at the dorms, her thoughts drifting to the soft embrace of her bed. She hobbles her way to the common room, but what she sees stops her dead on her tracks.

Bakugo’s sleeping figure is slumped over the table just in front of the couches, his back steadily rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. It was already past ten when she had returned, why wasn’t Bakugo sleeping in his room?

She approaches the couches with the intention of waking him up but she notices the open notebook beside his head, slightly covered by the explosive, blonde mess of his hair. She takes a closer look and the word Round Face catches her eye. Curiosity takes over and she takes a seat beside him, peering at the mysterious pages covered in Bakugo’s handwriting.

Her heart begins to race, eyes slowly widening at the realization that dawns on her as she reads its contents. They were notes. Notes on the things they went over during each session and the points she had gotten wrong. He had also taken note of the concepts she was having a hard time on, a list of sample questions and problems that he had most likely thought of by himself was scrawled beside them, some of them he had crossed over in thick, harsh lines.

She looked over to Bakugo in disbelief, he was still very much asleep. The warmth in her belly spreads to her chest and curves the corners of her mouth into a small smile, Oh, Bakugo. Ochako brings her attention back to the notebook and was about to flip to the next page when a hand grabs her wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bakugo hisses. She quickly turns to face him, his eyes were hazed by the sleep he was still coming out of, but his glare, even with only half of its power, still held the same flaming intensity.

“I was uh,” she struggles to explain herself. She spots a trail of drool on his cheek and in a moment of pure, utter stupidity she continues, “You have, um, something on your…” She points to his cheek.

His eyebrows knit together, using his free hand to touch his face. He must have felt it because he instantly lets go of her as though he had touched the surface of a burning kettle, briskly wiping his cheek with his sleeve, red tinting the tips of his ears.

He was probably in the middle of an insult when his gaze dropped to her shirt, “What’s that?” He asks pointedly. Ochako follows his line of sight, her eyes landing on the name tag still very much attached to her shirt. Crap, I forgot to take that off.

“Oh, this thing!” She blurts, hastily taking the pin off, “Gunhead started making us wear these now.” She laughs nervously, Bakugo still staring daggers into her soul. Before the silence gets too stretched out or before Bakugo could pick up where he left off with that insult, she tries to change the topic, “How about you, Bakugo? Have you been interning somewhere too?”

She hears the tiredness in her voice, her body was weighing heavier by the minute. Bakugo’s eyes dart away, “It’s none of your business.” He bites back.

Ochako internally sighs. She didn’t have the energy to fire something back at him and her patience tank had sadly already ran out of steam just from her shift at work today, “You know,” she starts, bringing both of her hands to her lap, “I was just trying to make conversation, but if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine.” She breathed out as she stood up from beside him.

Her quirk was no match for the gravity pulling her to the ground as the weight of the day grew heavier with every step she made her way towards the staircase.

“Jeanist.” A low, gruff voice says.

She pauses, turning around to face Bakugo. His eyes were focused on the walls, but she gives him an expectant look when they briefly meet hers.

“I worked with him for a while,” He continues, still refusing to look at her directly, “but he’s not taking any interns right now.”

“I see.” She replied. Ochako’s mind goes blank on what to say next.

“How did you end up in an agency like Gunhead’s ?” He suddenly asks, breaking the silence that she had failed to fill. She almost takes offense to this question, was he thinking that someone like Ochako would be too frail or girly to be associated with an agency like Gunhead’s.

Before she could give him a piece of her mind, he adds, “He’s not even in the top 10, you could do better than that.”

Ah, only Bakugo would consider hero rankings when choosing an agency to intern for.

Ochako walks a few steps closer to where he was still sitting, “You.”

A look of confusion instantly twists his face, “Huh?”

“I chose his agency because of you.” She repeats more clearly.

One of his eyebrows shoot upwards, “What the fuck did I do?” He asks as if she had just accused him of stealing the last of her savings.

She had forgotten that she had to be more specific when talking to Bakugo in particular, “Do you remember our fight last year during the sport’s festival?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t need any more words than that to prove it because the way his expression hardens, jaw tightening at the mention of the memory, already told her that he was telling the truth. He stares her down the same way he did in that arena, carefully studying her in anticipation of what she’ll do next.

“After that match,” she continued, “I realized the number of possibilities that could open up for me if I got stronger.” Ochako looks up at him with complete sincerity, “You helped me realize that.”

Bakugo’s gaze linger on hers for a few moments before grinning, “Guess you’re not as much of a dumbass as I thought, round face.”

She smiled at this, only he could make a compliment sound anything like an insult. Despite this, Ochako knew that this comment from Bakugo was worth more than most compliments combined.

“Even with all that training, I still did pretty bad at this year’s festival.” She jokes, looking back at the events that took place months ago. Compared to her first tournament, she had successfully made it past the first round, but only to be defeated minutes after the second one commenced.

“No you didn't.” Bakugo says flatly, his eyebrows could knit scarves with that puzzled look on his face.

Ochako challenges his confused expression with one of her own, “How would you know?”

“Because I watched you.”

This catches her off-guard for two reasons. One being the fact that for Bakugo, whatever he saw during that match was enough proof for him to say that she did well. The second reason being that she didn’t expect Bakugo to care about other people's matches unless he thought that the people fighting were people he found interesting enough to stay for.

“Too bad I didn’t get to beat your ass again.” He teases, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the couch.

Ochako’s hands prop on her hips, “Who says you beat my ass the first time around?” She fires back.

Bakugo scoffs, “Tell that to the medal, round face.”

“The one you refused to accept?” She grins, pleased with herself.

“Tch, whatever. I won that fucking match and your cocky ass knows it.” He barks.

It does, Ochako thinks to herself, “I almost got you though.” She points out. Sure, Bakugo won that fight, but he’s got to admit that her plan had almost won her that match. Not that she expected him to, though.

To her surprise, he mutters, “Yeah.”

Before she could stop herself from blurting out the next idea that popped inside her delusional, tired, brain, she spits it out, “How about a rematch, then?” She hoped that he wouldn’t take it seriously, but she knew better than to think that Bakugo won’t take anything seriously.

His chin tilts upwards, a calculating look masking his face, “You’re on.”

“But,” he lifts himself from the couch, taking a few steps until he was right in front of her, “You have to ace that exam first before I can even consider giving you that rematch.” Ochako remembers the upcoming exam they had for Ectoplasm’s class scheduled weeks from now, it was going to be focusing on the concepts she found the hardest to understand, but deep down she was confident that she’ll be fine once the time comes.

Bakugo walks past her, the sudden electricity from their arms brushing each other almost jolts her awake, “So you better not fail, dumbass.”

“How can I?” She calls out, “The great Bakugo Katsuki is tutoring me.”

“Tch, shut up.” He bites. He was already a few feet away from her, a few steps onto the staircase, when she hears the faint sound of his voice mutter, “Night, round face.”

Ochako smiles, somehow thinking that maybe today wasn’t so bad after all, “Good night, Bakugo.”

#kacchako #kacchako fic #kacchako fanfiction #kacchako fluff #kacchako slowburn #kacchako week #kacchako week 2020 #ao3 kacchako #ao3 #bakuraka #bakuraka week #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x uraraka #urakara ochako #mha ochako #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha

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saintjosaphime · 5 years ago

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Wishful Thinking|| Morgan and Josephine

Just your average run to the witch supply store.

After being in White Crest for so long, one would naturally develop a curiosity for things that weren’t quite within their realm. And although Josephine understood that her abilities were gifted through magic and used powerful magicks, she found herself quite interested in the more...mortal versions of it. There were so many kinds! Alchemy, elemental, summoning, healing! It was absolutely fascinating. And it was with this mindset that Josephine found herself at one of the local magic shops-- a real magic shop, not the magic shop downtown that sold “energized crystals” that were just painted quartz-- perusing the shelves for anything that caught her eye. But halfway through her shopping, something else caught her eye, something much more interesting. A someone, technically.

She’d walked into the shop with a bit of a sulk, but it wasn’t her saunter that gave her away-- no, it was the waves and waves of sadness and angst rolling off of her. Buried deep underneath it all, an anger. One that Josephine felt herself all too eager for. It was a familiar anger. The kind she dealt in. Someone close to this woman had wronged her, and by the way her curls sagged on her head, it was someone she had cared for very much. Josephine put on a grin. She sidled around the corner, pretending to be occupied with something or other, before reaching out as if to grab the same thing this woman was reaching for. “Oh! I’m sorry, you go ahead,” she said, giving a pleasant smile.

Morgan was just going to pick up some good basics for her supply box--now that she and Cece were out in the open about the whole magic thing, she could grab more than just what she could hide under the bed or in her thermos. Just a run, like going to the supermarket, and maybe if she’d managed to go right after classes it would have been, but now it was past five. The sun was already quitting on the world for the day and the working witches were strolling the aisles with their families. It was stupid--everyone had a family, even if it wasn’t alays a good one--but something about Mom, Dad, and Screaming Baby made the boards that held up her soul threaten to give. And maybe it was creepy, following the sound of stroller wheels over an aisle and becoming super fascinated with some mugwort she did not need, but Morgan couldn’t help herself. The kid was in a princess elsa onesie, kicking her little feet and grasping clumsily for rune stones she couldn’t reach. She was crying. Aren’t you going to do anything? It’s not that hard, just fix it. Fix it. And in came the dad, some ritual urn on his hip, scooped up his little bundle of hope and gave her a good rock. Enjoy it while it lasts, kid, she thought. The girl looked up from her Dad’s shoulder and flashed a toothless smile.

Morgan turned away and reached for the glass phials she's actually come for. Too much. Way too much. Time to get home, grade papers, and find out whether it was going to be a cuddle and fuck the pain away kind of night or the stare into the dark and pray for sleep kind.

There was a woman’s hand next to hers, brushing close. Morgan jumped back. “Sorry!” she said. “No, I didn’t see you. You can, um, go ahead. I should’ve been paying attention. Really.” Her smile was big, even pleasant, as she insisted, but her arms locked tight around her chest, holding herself up until the exchange could be over.

Oh, this was much worse off than Josephine had originally thought. The way the other woman held herself, the jerk when they’re hands touched, that look on her face that said ‘Please just let this be over’. It bothered Josephine. Whoever had done this to this poor woman, they deserved to suffer. A frown furrowed Josephine’s face, unable to stop the involuntary motion. “I don’t mean to pry,” she found herself saying, pulling a phial off and holding it out to her, “but you seem a bit...down for the wear.” Hmm, was that saying still a current one? Sometimes her age showed, but perhaps this woman, so distracted by her pain, wouldn’t care nor notice. She tilted her head. “Everything alright?”

Morgan tried to keep the horror of being recognized out of her eyes as best she could. “What?” She said, laughing incredulously. “No, I’m--I was just distracted. Thinking too much, you know?” She did not want to take the phial from the lady, it seemed charged somehow, like admitting she needed pity, or wanted it. Here she was, flying into regular panics over balancing her life so everyone stayed at an even distance, and the Universe, her parents, who the hell ever had tripped the curse back when, hadn’t given her even half that consideration. “I’m okay,” she managed, smiling again as best she could. “T-thank you though.” She checked her view of the cash register-- the family had just taken their spot in line. Baby girl was sucking on the rim of the urn like it belonged to her. Fuck the universe. “It’s nothing serious,” she said quietly. “You’re kind to ask, but I’ve got it.” She plucked the vial up quickly and shifted her gaze around the store, looking for somewhere else to be.

Josephine tilted her head in concern. Someone in denial was always harder to get through, but she literally couldn’t walk away at this point. The pull of her burden was too strong. She followed her line of sight. The family standing at the register. So it was likely her parents that had dug this deep pit inside of her. Josephine could relate, and it made her angry, a brief flash of it crossing her face. “Must be nice, right?” she said, knowing that she, too, used to look longingly at happy families, talking in public, eating together, doing simple things like walking through a park or getting groceries. “I hope she realizes how good she’s got it.”

“Oh god, right?” Morgan said back. It was just so true, it slipped out of her like air. “If she’s real lucky she’ll never have to figure it out.” And that hurt. Morgan didn’t know who she’d be at all if this hadn’t happened to her, if she’d never been given a reason to even think something was off with her life. But that wasn’t going to get her anywhere to be and she shouldn’t be dumping this out loud on random strangers. She turned back to the woman, looking her over carefully for the first time. “I’m sorry--who are you, exactly? I mean--do you always strike up conversations with sad people?”

“Oh, sorry,” Josephine said, giving a slight smile. She couldn’t make it go any bigger, both for the ache inside of her and the ache coming from the other woman’s heart. “My name’s Josephine. And no, not usually, but…” she glanced around, then back to Morgan, “it’s hard to watch someone suffer without at least trying to help. I didn’t mean to drag stuff out...but I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t relate.” She set the offered phial down into Morgan’s basket before reaching up to grab her own. “But we can talk about something else, or pretend this never happened, if that’s what you want.” Turned to look back at her, putting the phials in her own basket.

“Josephine,” Morgan repeated. That sounded like something. “Guidance counselor Josephine?” Oh, no. Not another one. Between Remmy, Cassie, Blanche, and whoever else she was forgetting, Morgan had all the absurdly kind people near her that she could bear. If she was really as kind as all that she would just run, maybe even be rude, and let Josephine get on with her life. And what was the point of convincing her about her sad story anyway? She was normal, wasn’t she? “I spoke with you online! Briefly. I meant to show and see that the community part of White Crest was all about, but Valentine’s Day turned out to be pretty rough, mostly. I’m Morgan, by the way. I um-didn’t think I’d be running into you here. Color me at least a little surprised.” This wasn’t really the muggle-type place to shop now that she thought about it. She scrutinized Josephine a little more carefully. Was she somehow...not normal?

“Morgan!” Josephine said, a little brighter. So she’d been right. And she liked being right. “You can just call me Josphine, though, Guidance counselor Josephine was my mom.” Her face soured at the mention, though, because her mother was anything but a counselor. Her mother was a scourge on Earth. The only good thing she’d done was give birth to Josephine and MJ. She snapped back from the thought. “Why? Because I seem so normal?” she gave a flashing grin, before shrugging, “I guess I’m a little too good at it now, but I’d rather not lose my job because someone called me a witch on main.”

Morgan sputtered. This was a lot, and Josephine’s being a witch didn’t really mitigate her concerns over her being too upsettingly nice to be around for long. “--Okay, kind of, yes. Not that I don’t understand! Hunters are real and humans, normal ones, can be really horrible with things they don’t understand. I get flack sometimes for naming my crystal shop a witchery, but I just can’t bear to be completely closeted about everything. But it’s a balancing act, you know?”

“You have your own shop?” Josephine asked, genuinely curious. She supposed she could understand that. Josephine hated it as well, but growing up black and queer in the 60’s didn’t exactly allow for an leeway in not hiding. “I can get that. I do. But perhaps it was my experience that showed me that hiding, while sometimes unbearable, was safer than being out. In any sense.” Gave her a glance. “I’m almost jealous of you. It’d be nice to just be out about...what I am, but secrets have kept me alive and so...I’ll keep them.” She gave Morgan a tight lipped look. It would be hard to pry into her in a public place like this, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself away. The draw of Morgan’s resent was too strong and too familiar. “Hey, looks like the counter is open,” she pointed, as the family with the little girl made their leave. “Ladies first,” she offered, smiling somberly at Morgan.

“Etsy shop,” Morgan clarified, bracing herself for whatever kind of way Josephine wanted to feel about it. She held Josephine’s glance and felt immediately abashed. Oh, so not a witch. Something with a lot more risk involved. Fae? Wolf? Zombie? Morgan wasn’t sure if it was her place to ask. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “About whatever...happened, or came after you. You’re a really kind person and you didn’t deserve that.” She smiled back, plucked up a bushel of dried herbs from another shelf and made for the check out line with a mumbled thank you.

“Esty shop? That’s admirable. It’s hard to make a living off small businesses like that,” Josephine commented truthfully. She did admire small business owners and operators. It took much more gusto and determination to do something like that. “Oh, nothing came after me, except life, I guess. It came after me and my sister and it took things from me that I can never get back.” She stuffed one more thing into her basket. “Being queer didn’t help.” She followed Morgan up to the counter. She was itching to ask her, itching to tell her, that she could probably solve all her problems, if only Morgan would let her. But it was still too early and they were still in too public a place. “I’m sorry, too. For whatever’s making you...hurt right now.” A subtle hint, maybe Morgan would take it.

Morgan laughed dryly, “Oh, I don’t. I also work for two departments in the College of Arts and Sciences at UMAC, adjuncting. And then, after taxes, I kinda get by.” She laid all her things out in neat stacks and took out her very real card to pay with fresh, real, deposited funds. “No, it definitely wouldn’t have,” she said quietly. “We’re about the same age--” Unless she was some 200 year old fae. “--Maybe. And it was hard even for me.” Josephine would’ve grown up alongside the same broadcasts and speeches as she had. Read the same headlines. Seen the same arrests. The same bodies. She leaned in between making small talk with the cashier and asked, “Was I really that obvious?”

Josephine gave a small chuckle. “Typical. I wouldn’t say I make a killing, either, but I’ve learned how to manage my money better because of it.” She watched the stuff Morgan was buying with curiosity, but didn’t say anything. She doubted Morgan was close to her age, unless she was really good at illusions, and by the ingredients in her basket, that seemed unlikely. “Hmmm,” was all she said to that, giving a nod. They weren’t fond memories or fond times, but they were events that had led to the world being the way it was now. When Morgan whispered her question, Josephine softened her expression. “No, not really,” she said back, just as quietly, giving a bit of a rougher bite to her voice, “I’m just really good at telling these things.”

Morgan knew by now when someone was trying to supernatural code at her, but she was not especially gifted at deciphering it. She wanted to ask Jospehine to just tell her before she made some weird gaffe about the wrong species, to say whatever she wanted to ask of her in return. Because Josephine did seem to think she knew something. She lingered after she paid for her things, her canvas shopping bag held close over her with leftover nerves. When Joephine finished, she walked out the store with her, checking there was no one else within hearing. “I’m really bad at the guessing game,” she said. “I’ve learned about at least five new supernatural species in the last month so I may not even know what you’re trying to say, so can you just...say?”

Morgan was forward, Josephine couldn’t deny that, but she imagined the wear of her sadness was making things harder to give an effort for. Sighing, Josephine shrugged. “It’s a big world out there, isn’t it?” she said, holding her bag loosely. “I’m sure it can get daunting at times.” But Morgan was trying to be genuine, and Josephine was sure, by her own description, that it was unlikely she’d know what species Josephine was. “I’m going to tell you this because you seem trustworthy, but also because I believe that I can help you.” She paused. “But, I’m going to ask for discretion in return, of course. You understand, right?” she asked, looking over at her as they shuffled along. She waited for confirmation before continuing on. If Morgan did end up telling someone, it wouldn’t matter too much. But getting on the bad side of an Erinyes wasn’t the brightest idea. “I’m something called an Erinyes. I’m...magical in nature. But I promise you, this isn’t any sort of “baby’s first illusion” magic. I use my magic to...help people. To grant them the opportunity to stand up to someone-- or something-- that’s wronged them.”

Morgan kept her eyes focused on the dimming sky ahead of them in case they actually were trying to bug out of her face. Erinyes were real now? As in furies? What did she smell or taste like to Josephine that made her want to talk? “Make that six new species,” Morgan said, swallowing for composure. “I uh...I should probably tell you now that just about everyone I might have any feelings that strong about are dead.” She slid her gaze sidelong at Josephine, as if the new revelation between them might change how they were seen. “This is normally where I insist you don’t want to hear my sad little story, partly because I hate telling it sometimes, but since that’s the only reason you talked to me, you should know there’s nothing to be done about it. I’m a dead end.”

Josephine didn’t like that answer. “I think you massively underestimate my power, Morgan,” she said flatly, but kept her same demeanour, same composure. “No one with feelings as powerful as yours could be a dead end.” She turned her head enough to look at the woman walking beside her. “But I won’t pry. Your story is yours. And your narrative is yours. But I’m guessing if you’ve ended up in a place like this, you’re at your grasp’s end. So what harm could trying, do?” She turned her gaze back to watch the sidewalk in front them. “For what it’s worth, though, that wasn’t the only reason I talked to you. It might’ve been the initial draw, but...I talked to you because I know how you feel. That pain inside of you....” she was quiet for a moment. This wasn’t something she’d shared with anyone in a while. “I know that pain first hand. It’s why I do the things I do, now. So that one will have to feel this way, if I can help it.”

Morgan took her time down the street as she tried to take all this in. She didn’t know much about furies and now was a terrible time to be finding out. She was afraid, damnit, but only because she didn’t know what she was up against. And because she had been seen, really and horribly seen, out of nowhere. Without saying anything. She listened, forcing her breath to steady as she walked. Oh. Oh no. She stopped, not quite able to face her. “I am really sorry, if you actually felt like this. If someone—if the people who were supposed to take care of you didn’t do that. But what’s happening to me is magic power, and…” How to put this? She didn’t share this with strangers. But hasn’t she been saying she wished for help a little less personally invested? But Josephine was kind. She chose to work with high school kids. She was one more absurdly kind person Morgan couldn’t shake her awareness of. “I just need a minute!” she said, and plopped herself onto the nearest bench.

Josephine stopped when Morgan did. She didn’t sit on the bench with her right away, but stood by her, contemplating her next move. The power inside her told her to push and pry and make Morgan take a deal. She deserved it, after all. To be free of this pain. But the person in Josephine told her it wasn’t going to be so easy. Morgan’s problems were dead, which meant Josephine couldn’t wrap her own hands around their necks to watch their life drain, but souls in the ether were still prone to punishment, even if it meant reaching through planes to rip their back down to suffer for all eternity. She could do that. But only if Morgan let her. Only if Morgan accepted her help. Finally, she sat. “Take your time,” she said quietly. She turned enough to look Morgan square in the eyes, burning with something that she didn’t often let to the surface. “But whatever magic has cursed you, it’s nothing compared to what I can do.”

Morgan tapped her fingers over her chest. She’d just been saying it would be easy if she didn’t know the person willing to help, if she didn’t have to care or worry. If she could see them more like her piles of sand and glass, objects to be weighed, negotiated, exchanged. Not wronged, not used, exactly, but balanced. So why was she scared? Why not seize this right now?

Because it was easy.

Too easy for someone like her.

How many times did her freshman students bemoan the idiot heroes who said yes to the first spirit who offered everything they ever wanted? Why is he so dumb? They’d ask. You don’t get things free. So how long before it bites him in the ass?

And Morgan would explain, kindly, ideas beyond common sense and consequence. Why is a good question. What would make you do something like that? How bad would you need it, what’s worth the denial it takes to say yes to something like that? But those were ideas. This was her.

“I--think there’s more I need to understand right now,” she stammered. “What do you get out of this? Hypothetically, you fix my life, or you make it worth dying with a curse on my shoulders, but what’s the cost?”

As Josephine waited, she took the time to look Morgan over properly. She was a smaller woman, cozy in her dressings today. She had curls which probably sagged more today than most, and little creases around her eyes were forced smiles had worn away at her. Josephine looked down. Age wasn’t a thing that she’d ever have to worry about wearing on her, and sometimes she felt pity for the people who were already being dragged down with it. Morgan didn’t look too old, but she had mentioned going through some of the same times Josephine had. It was a stab in the dark, but she couldn’t be any younger than 35. What could have wearied someone like this by only their 30s? So early in life, even for a mortal. “Must there be a cost?” she said evenly, leaning back and tilting her head to look up at the sky. “Must there be some ulterior motive on my end?” It was a fair question. And while there technically was, it didn’t change the situation. She glanced sideways to look at Morgan, head still leaned back. “If you must know, granting these...opportunities is what fuels my power. It’s how I feed, I suppose you could say. But I choose to believe it’s because this is my duty to the world. And while I can take in return for those who ask a lot, I don’t have to. Duty is more important than material gains.” She looked back at Morgan. “But do not misunderstand me, Morgan-- I can not fix your life. That’s up to you. What I can do is grant you a wish that can change your circumstance. Rid you of something that looms over you, or destroy someone who has wronged your heart. That’s what I can do. And I can do it all with a snap.”

Morgan sagged back on the bench. “I’m a cosmically screwed alchemist,” she sighed, rubbing away at the worry wrinkle on her forehead. “I know about cost.” And then Josephine went on. Not about kindness, but duty. Stars above, did every supernatural femme in town have a secret pledge to something? Was that what she was missing from her life? Morgan smirked and held herself a little more loosely, turned to look at Josephine, smiling in her small, soft way, her first and last line of defense with the world. “Sorry. You just reminded me of someone. In a good way, mostly. And I do appreciate you not proposing the sun and stars and a fresh start or an insta-happy-ever-after. But I can’t be any more of a game for the universe than I already am. Can you magic promise me to disclose the fine print or something?”

“Sure,” Josephine said, “there’s usually a cost for everything. On a human level. But that’s not exactly what we’re dealing with, now is it?” She gave her a look, noting the small smile, the wall, the lock, the key all in one. She leaned forward again, turning on the bench to face Morgan more. “I hope it’s a good reminder. I can’t promise bind like fae can, but you can look at me here and now, in the eyes, and I can tell you that I will disclose anything you want me to. I’m not malicious, my powers aren’t evil-- they’re a gift. Divine, if those such things truly existed. I was born into obscurity and found my way into becoming something that truly has the power to right wrongs and change the world. I’m not out to hurt you, Morgan. Just the opposite. I help. I help those who can not help themselves, not for lack of trying, but lack of circumstance.” She held out her hand-- a symbolic gesture this time. There were no deals behind this handshake. “Promise.”

Morgan looked, tapping her fingers still, breathing deep and silent. She didn’t have any duty or grand principles. Once it had been her family and what they needed, what was best for them. Then it was just her. She tried to make fair bargains with the universe, but the universe always held back, and she always kept a half useless card up her sleeve, just in case she lost her hand. But at least this was magic. Magic, for all its mystery, was bound by rules. Magic couldn’t play dirty, just the ones who used it. And this was just for full disclosure, right? If she could spot the trap, if there was one, she wouldn’t have to fall in. If she really wanted, she could stay at her safe remove between all options at once. Cassie, the Vurals, Blanche, and Remmy to one side; this to another. Just a little longer. Slowly, Morgan took Josephine’s hand. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. We--don’t have to do this right now. Or right here, at least.” The dark was closing in, and the shadows were stretching on the ground like monsters. “I don’t know how, uh, hungry you are in any sense, but we could always...do something less horror movie than sit on a bench in the dark. Unless that’s your thing! In which case, there are at least more picturesque choices.”

“I keep well fed here,” Josephine said simply, as Morgan took her hand. “So you can take your time. I didn’t come to you out of desperation, I came to you because your pain touched something familiar in me.” Josephine smiled sweetly at her, withdrawing her hand. “We can go wherever you want. I don’t mind the dark, but sitting on a bench at night isn’t technically my favorite thing to do, no.” A tease, to help lighten the mood a bit. “You can take your time.This is a big decision, and it should be made right. We can go somewhere else. Or we can get a drink and go for a walk. The ball is in your court, and I like to think I’m a pretty open gal.” She stood, held her hand out to Morgan again, this time in a gesture to help her up from the bench, a kind smile on her face and in her eyes. “Or we can go our separate ways while you think. Like I said, there’s no rush. I’m good at other things, too. Of the not talking variety.”

Morgan gave a breathless, flustered laugh. Was Josephine--? She hadn’t even been flirting. She had, in fact, been costing through a spectacular variety of anxieties this whole time. She fussed with the ends of her hair and smiled a little wider. She had a preference for how she spent her nights, of course, but there was plenty of room around Deirdre for a little fun. Fun, and maybe even a way out of her mess of a life. “I’ll...keep that in mind,” she said. Waited a moment, still breathing. “Where do you like to drink anyways?”

Josephine just smiled. “Just an offer. Not too many older queer women around here,” she answered. “Not that we’re old, of course. My favorite bar is Dell’s, but that’s mainly because it’s close to home and work. The Magic Circle and the Seven Selkies are nice for when you’re too tired to pretend to be normal anymore. They’re more our kind of scene than Mary from accountings kind,” she said simply.

“Oh, I know,�� Morgan said, getting up with Josephine’s help at last. “Until you, I was starting to think I was the oldest queer woman in town.” She held herself against the night air and began to walk beside her. “I’m kind of surprised I’ve been able to meet anyone here who I can really connect with. The world is so big and somehow so small at the same time. But, anyway,” She was getting off the beaten path with that way of thinking, and no one liked a date distracted by someone else. She drew herself up and mustered some cheer, “Put a cocktail in my hand and I’ll give you my story.”

“The world is smaller than we think,” Josephine answered. “Oh, I doubt that. I’m sure there are even some older than me. But unless you remember President Eisenhauer, I think I’ve got a couple decades on you.” She flashed another grin. “This town is special like that. It draws in a certain type of person.” She lead them down the sidewalk, feeling the brisk air cool her skin as the sun dipped ever lower. “Well, we’re right nearby the magic circle, and it seems rather fitting, considering,” she said, “Drinks on me.” She moved to open the door, giving a bit of more playful smirk this time, “I’ll even pay, too.”

Wow, that was old. “Nope, Reagan baby,” Morgan admitted. “You wear it amazingly. “ She curtsied with appreciation as Josephine opened the door. “You’re too kind, Josephine.” But not so much that Morgan wouldn’t happily let her. She went and found them a booth tucked away in the back and let the stuffed backing swallow her a little. Maybe don’t think too hard about it, she thought. Maybe just...see what’s possible. She reached up to help Josephine set the drinks down when she appeared and took a good gulp. “Thank you for this,” she said.

“Ah..that asshole,” Josephine said with a knowing nod. “And thank you. I think so, too.” Immortality helped, as well. She followed Morgan in and watched which booth she tucked herself into before going up to the counter to order them both an old fashioned. They needed something strong for this, and Josephine’s tolerance was higher, anyway. She took the drinks back and set Morgan’s down. “Hope you’ve got a high tolerance,” she said, sliding into the booth opposite. Held a hand. “No need to thank me. I don’t do it for the thanks,” she said, a smile brimming on her face. She couldn’t help but get excited about granting a wish for someone like Morgan. Her pain and resent would fill Josephine up for weeks. That was thanks enough.

Morgan shrugged. “Moderate enough. So--” And Morgan worked her way through the bones of the story. She went down the list of so-called accidents and sudden losses. She explained about her mother, how she’d had to be asked, point blank, after the funeral, because Morgan was sure she had done this just by existing. And how she had died hiding something else: that she had come here before. That she had a whole life that would never be known now. She explained about Agnes, and Sean. When she was done, she rewarded herself with another gulp of her drink and steadied her breath. “So, I’m carrying some shit someone did however many hundred years ago on my shoulders, but I didn’t ask for any of it. All I ever wanted was a nice life. So what, hypothetically, could your magic do for that?”

It was quite the explanation. And quite the curse. But Josephine was positive, if spun in the right way, she could easily rewrite a few chapters of history here and there to get rid of the curse. If that’s what Morgan wanted. It would change her entire life, after all, and that was a big thing to swallow. If not that, then perhaps a different spin on her current situation. She could give Morgan the power to dispell the curse herself, or maybe give her the chance to take revenge on the one who cast it in the first place. Drag their soul up from the ether or whatever new form it had taken, and smash it into a rotting corpse for her to pummel. “Well...it depends on what you want my magic to do for you. The caveat, I should say, is that my magic works by...fulfilling retribution. I can not simply wave away your curse because that’s where your pain lies. But I can reach into the ether and find the soul of whoever cursed you and send them to eternal suffering. Or rewrite their history so that the inciting event never happens. The list goes on.”

Sometime after Josephine made it clear she couldn’t wipe the pain off Morgan’s shoulders, her brain went quiet. Of course she couldn’t. Not even an old fury could save her that neatly. There was no cash-in system for all the suffering credit she’d accumulated. It couldn’t carry its own weight to buy her some simplicity and peace of mind. No, instead they had to break the world, or steal a soul just for the catharsis of the thing. And what would she have to give up for that? Her own humanity? Her life? For something that fundamentally screwed, would she have to Marty McFly herself out of existence? Or lose all the kind people she was trying to balance? How was this cost going to be any better than what she was doing already? Morgan stared into her drink, and even that wasn’t much for comfort. “I can’t do this right now,” she murmured sadly. “I thought I could, at least understand the basics, but--” she breathed, sniffled, and raised her eyes to the ceiling to keep them focused and dry. “I think I need to get home. I’m sorry.”

This didn’t bode well. Morgan’s silence was deafening to Josephine. She recalled the dozens of times she’d sat across from her sister in their room, or at the table, or hiding in their closet. And they’d just been quiet. Drowning in their own silence. Looking at each other wondering if it would ever end. Her heart burned with an anger unlike most at the thought and Josephine had to hide it behind a large gulp of her drink. “I understand,” she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her card, the same one she’d given Dot a few nights ago. “If you change your mind,” slid the card across the table, “or just want someone to talk to, give me a call.” Then sat back and took another drink. Morgan wasn’t a loss, though. No, this wasn’t the end of this. Josephine would get her deal from Morgan, because she knew what kind of person Morgan was. And she knew what kind of person anger like that made people into.

#chatzy #chatzy: morgan #morgan #wishful thinking #wickedswriting

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onhirel · 5 years ago

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Flight Class

Part of the Decades Drabbles, set two years after the Battle of Arcturus Forest. Amanda has to deal with an impertinent student...

Archive of Our Own here

It was a beautiful day at Luna Nova Magical Academy, with only a few clouds dotting the bright blue skies, the sun bringing some welcomed warmth, and a refreshing breeze blew from the northwest. All in all, a perfect day for flying, which wasn’t always a guarantee in Western England, and Professor O’Neill was a stickler for flying through any sort of weather, save for weather that could seriously injure a student, such as a thunderstorm or very thick fog. “Out there in the world, y’all might be flying in all sorts’ve conditions,” the fiery-haired professor had said in that Texas drawl on the first day of classes. “Better to learn how to fly safely now than to be grounded later, or even worse, fly in weather y’all aren’t ready for.”

That seemed to be the American professor’s style…despite her wild appearance with undercut, two-toned red hair and tattoos on her arms that she shamelessly bared to the annoyance of some of the more conservative teachers, she took the safety of her students incredibly seriously, and she watched her flying students like a hawk, her bright green and electric blue eyes missing very little, much to the consternation of-

“Miss Laveau, slow down!” Professor O’Neill’s voice cracked through the air, and Keyatta Laveau, witch descendent from a proud lineage of Cajun witches from Delacroix, Louisiana, immediately slowed down her broom before turning an annoyed grimace back up towards the walkway extending off of the Observatory Tower to see Professor O’Neill scowling down at her.

“What?!” she gave a complaining shout back up to the teacher and the other students. “Come on, I wasn’t even going that fast!”

“I know you know the rules, Laveau, keep it at the proper speed or I’ll ground you!”

Keyatta rolled her eyes before going so much slower than she was capable of going, and just to be a brat, she started doing exaggerated loop-de-loops. To her surprise, Professor O’Neill didn’t yell at her, instead sparing her one last annoyed glare before she returned her attention to the next student to fly off the end of the walkway. Later, during lunch, the African-American student and the Irish-American professor would both gripe to their peers about one another, much to the amusement of those around them. After all, anyone could see that the two of them were very similar in temperament…no wonder they didn’t get along…

For Amanda, it was Professor Finnelan to whom she complained while they ate their lunches in the staff cafeteria. “Like, I just don’t get it, she’s one of the smartest girls in her year and is a model student with the other professors, why can’t she just follow the rules in my class?”

Finnelan literally snorted into her tea at that, turning astounded blue eyes on the younger professor. “Really? You, of all people, are asking that?” she asked, voice incredulous. “As I recall, Katelyn…er, Nelson, that is, she used to say very much the same thing about a hotheaded student from Texas twelve years ago,” she said, her expression only saddening a little at the mention of her friend. But then she gave a slight, teasing grin. “Well, perhaps not the smartest girl in her year, mind…” she said leadingly, and Amanda rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a flippant wave of her hand before she sighed, crossing her arms and staring at the egg salad and olive sandwich on her plate. “I dunno, Finnelan, like…I’m tempted to let her do her thing, but what if she gets hurt? Then it’d be my fault, and after…after Arcturus Forest, I can’t stand the thought of losing anyone else I’m responsible for.”

The look Finnelan gave her was sympathetic. “Well, the Headmistress has given you some pretty decent leeway in your curriculum, O’Neill. Give it some thought, I’m sure you’ll think of something…”

Meanwhile, in the student cafeteria, Keyatta was having a much more spirited discussion about the matter, a scowl on her pretty face as she stabbed her spoon repeatedly into her mashed potatoes as the other two in the lavender team, Astrid Ingridsdottir from Iceland and Lihua Chang from China looked on with amusement. “I just don’t get what her damn problem is!” she snapped, the harsh tone at odds with her usually relaxed Louisianan drawl. “Like, I ain’t a damn kid, I know how to ride a broom!”

“Yes, but if a student is hurt during her class, it will be the professor’s fault,” Lihua reminded her primly before she took a drink from her water glass, and Keyatta fairly glared at her.

“I know that, but…it’s like she wants me to keep training wheels on when I don’t need them, and it’s so annoying. It’s like she doesn’t care what I’m capable of, and I just don’t know why!”

Lihua and Astrid glanced at one another. “You have heard the rumors about Professor O’Neill, right?” Astrid asked, and Keyatta huffed.

“Which ones? To date, there’s the one where when Atsuko Kagari was a professor here before she went into showbiz, O’Neill would frequently show up and have a tryst with Kagari in her office. Then there’s the one saying that O’Neill has a whole harem of witches out in Wedinburgh that she’s banging on the weekends. Or how about-”

“Not her love life, Key, but her history as a broom rider,” Lihuang said with a roll of her eyes.

“You mean like the Battle of Arcturus Forest? Lih, we learn about that in History of Magic. That’s not a rumor, that’s documented history. She was in command of the air group.”

“And how many riders did she lose?” Astrid asked. “They suffered really badly against the Silent Spring cult, surely that would make her want to be cautious…”

“Plus there’s the whole matter of her winning a bunch of broom races and she was a professional daredevil for a while…”

“Wait, what?” Keyatta asked, frowning. “She was a daredevil?”

“Yeah, it was probably like, six or seven years ago that she retired from all that, she was pretty popular on Witchtube for a long time.”

Keyatta blinked at that. Her family had been pretty traditional, and so frowned on things like Witchtube and other fancy modern spells…by the Nine, she shuddered to think about what Grand-maman would say about the magitronics courses being taught now. “I didn’t know,” she murmured to herself thoughtfully. That night, she would stay up until the wee hours of the morning, watching old footage of a woman she could scarcely believe was the stuffy flight instructor of Luna Nova. And through all of that, the resentment grew. Professor O’Neill used to fly like that and she was complaining about Keyatta going a little too fast? Merde, but that was so annoying! Her next flight class was on Friday, and she’d show Professor O’Neill then, by God! Decision made and tentative plan forming in her mind, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

xxxXXXxxx

Hannah quirked an eyebrow as Amanda came storming into the house on Friday evening, her expression thunderous. “Rough day at class?” she asked as Barbara came into the living room, drying her hands, the two of them watching as Amanda angrily toed her shoes off and making a beeline to the kitchen where they heard the fridge open and then close, followed by the sound of a beer bottle opening. Then Amanda reappeared, still scowling as she threw herself onto the couch, dropping her feet on top of the coffee table before taking a deep drink from the bottle, and Hannah and Barbara glanced at one another, slightly concerned. This was the worst mood Amanda had been in coming home from school in a long while.

Finally Amanda pulled the bottle away from her lips with a gasp for air. “I’m gonna kill her,” she muttered darkly.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “If it’s a student you’re talking about, it’s probably not allowed, love.”

“She deserves it!”

“Who was it, that Laveau girl from the US?” Barbara asked, and Amanda huffed out a wordless acknowledgment. “What’d she do this time?”

“Damn near gave me a heart attack today!” Amanda snapped before taking another drink. “For a moment, I thought she had lost control of her broom, and I went after her like a shot, but she gained control just before she hit the trees and then just smirked up at me. Little brat!”

Hannah and Barbara just looked at one another before turning almost sappily sympathetic faces on their lover. “Oh, no, Amanda, whatever will you do?” Hannah started, and Amanda shot her a sharp glance.

“Oi,” she started warningly, but Barbara was already talking.

“How awful, you’d think these kids would know to behave themselves doing something so dangerous. Honestly, the lack of self-preservation in some people. It doesn’t remind you of anyone that we know, does it, Han?”

Hannah tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It does sound familiar, Babs, but I just can’t put my finger on it…”

By now Amanda was pouting at them. “Alright, alright, I get it, no need to be so mean about it.”

“Awww, poor Amanda thinks that we’re being mean,” Hannah grinned, some heat creeping into her tone, and Barbara caught on immediately, wrapping loose arms around her, resting her cheek on Hannah’s shoulder as she fixed glittering eyes on Amanda, who was now watching them very intently.

“However shall we make it up to her?” Barbara asked, and Hannah almost laughed at the way Amanda swallowed thickly at that.

“I think I might have an idea,” she murmured as she turned her head and captured Barbara’s lips in a slow, heated kiss. The rest of the evening was spent rather successfully distracting Amanda from the issues that plagued her mind. Unfortunately it would be only a short reprieve…

xxxXXXxxx

“Miss Laveau,” came the stern voice, and Keyatta froze, wind whistling around the crowd gathered on the walkway of the Observatory, her broom propped on her shoulder.

She sighed heavily before turning slowly, facing the irate face of the other American. “Yes, Professor?” she asked, voice kept carefully free of derision.

“Look, I know you’re a skilled rider, but you have to follow the rules, alright?” Professor O’Neill asked, voice almost weary, and for a brief moment, Keyatta almost felt sorry for her teacher. Then steel crept into Professor O’Neill’s expression. “That said, you ever pull a stunt like Friday again, I’m taking your broom and giving you a D- for the semester, am I understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” Keyatta muttered, and as Professor O’Neill nodded and began to turn away, the resentment of all the scolding she had received caused the words to spill from her lips. “Pfft, like you could do any better.”

Everyone froze at that, Keyatta included. She hadn’t meant to say it, she really hadn’t! Respect for elders and those in authority had been drilled into her from a very young age, and if Papa had been there, he’d probably already be switching her backside for daring to sass her teacher. She glanced, wide-eyed and fearful, at Lihuang and Astrid who were both looking at her with horrified expressions. Then again, so were all of the other students immediately surrounding her, and she licked her lips nervously as she looked at the frozen back of Professor O’Neill. Nine preserve me, she’s going to be so furious!

But when the professor turned around, it wasn’t with an angry scowl, it was with a look of almost incredulous delight, and she gave a short, astonished laugh the molded into words. “I-I’m sorry, but what did you just say?”

“I…I…I didn’t mean…I’m so sor-!” Keyatta stammered, but Professor O’Neill cut her off.

“No, seriously. I want you to say that again, right now.”

Keyatta winced, her heart sinking into her stomach. Well, Professor O’Neill was telling her to say the words again, and she was already in enough trouble. Might as well. “I said, ‘like you could do any better,’ ma’am,” she answered meekly, head bowed.

“Okay, okay, that’s what I thought. Stay right where you are, nobody else start flying.” The rustle of clothes, and Keyatta looked up to see the red-headed flight instructor pull out her wand, all while grinning at Keyatta with an expression that would have been home on a shark’s face. “Vera Gurasare,” Professor O’Neill chanted, and she disappeared with a pop.

For a moment silence reigned, but then Astrid turned to Lihuang. “Dibs! I call dibs on her crystal ball!”

Lihuang scowled. “Damn, I wanted that, it’s got better reception than mine does. Fine, I get her potions set.”

“That’s fair. Do you want her antique shrunken head?”

“Ugh, no, that thing creeps me out. It always feels like it’s watching me…”

Keyatta frowned. “What are you doing?” she snapped, and her two teammates turned exasperated looks on her.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re divvying up your belongings now, so we don’t fight after Professor O’Neill kills you.”

Keyatta scoffed. “She’s not gonna kill me!” she protested, but she couldn’t help some of the doubt that crept into her words. Given some of the rumors about Professor O’Neill’s kill count during the fight against Silent Spring, could she be blamed for doubting, though?

And so her two so-called friends continued to lay claim to her belongings, other students occasionally throwing in a request, and an almost festive mood seemed to grip everyone except for Keyatta. After all, no one had ever seen Professor O’Neill really angry before, and there was a lot of curiosity about how exactly the punishment would be meted out.

Then, finally, one of the girls keeping lookout cried out. “Hey! There she is!” And then, softer, with frank admiration in her voice: “Oh, damn.”

There was almost a stampede as the students crowded at the railing, getting a look at the professor now walking towards the Observatory, and Keyatta couldn’t help but silently repeat that sentiment in her head. Oh, damn.

Professor O’Neill had changed out of her teacher’s robes and into something much more informal…dark green khaki cargo pants with knee pads built into them and a tight, black sleeveless shirt that showed off her trim torso, leanly muscled and tattooed arms, and broad shoulders. A beat up pair of combat boots and flight goggles strapped across her forehead completed the ensemble. She also had one of the biggest and monstrous looking brooms resting across her shoulders, and for the first time, Keyatta realized that she may have made a mistake. She gulped nervously as Professor O’Neill jabbed a finger up at the tower and then pointed at the ground in front of her.

“Oh my God, she’s going to kill me,” she whimpered, but there was nothing else she could do. A feeling of dread sitting like concrete in her stomach, she mounted her broom and flew down to the waiting professor, feeling very much like she was going to her executioner.

When she landed, she stood meekly in front of Professor O’Neill who stared at her with unreadable eyes. Then the older witch huffed, and brought her broom around with a flourish, the broom whistling through the air before it came to a rest. “Alright, so, you’re gonna back up your words, kid, we’re going to race. And this? This…is Silver,” Professor O’Neill said as she gestured to the massive broom, and Keyatta couldn’t help the small frown that took to her face, one that the professor noticed. “What?” she asked, tone short.

“Sorry, it’s just…Silver? That’s an odd name for a broom.”

Professor O’Neill frowned. “Silver…as in the Lone Ranger’s horse. It’s a classic name!”

By some small mercy, Keyatta kept her face composed, even as that little bit of knowledge made Professor O’Neill just that little bit more relatable. Her teacher liked old-timey cowboy shows. Huh. “Of course,” she said, tone neutral, and Professor O’Neill stared at her with narrowed eyes before she continued.

“Anyway, Silver here was made by Caplett and Prague, and probably cost more than your family’s property.”

Her first reaction was to scoff. Her family was one of the more prominent families of Louisiana, but then she really processed what Professor O’Neill had said. Caplett and Prague was the Bugatti of the broom world, and she gave the monstrous broom a once over, noting the sleek design and the unique knee and foot pegs, and she remembered some of the footage she had seen where Professor O’Neill had been able to keep full control over the broom without her hands. There were also gouges cut into the wood of the broom handle, as well as scorch marks. This was the broom the older witch had taken to battle against Silent Spring. And Keyatta was so totally dead. A school broom couldn’t compare to that broom.

Thus, it came as a complete surprise when Professor O’Neill tilted the broom handle towards her. “You will be the one riding it.”

Keyatta’s eyes flared open in shock. “What?”

“If I rode this, it wouldn’t be fair. So, you get Silver, I’ll ride your broom.”

“But Professor…I-I don’t want to damage it!”

Professor O’Neill threw her head back and laughed out loud at that. “Ha! Trust me kid, you should be way more worried about this broom hurting you than you hurting it. Now come on, put your hand on the broomstick, I have to tell it that you’re allowed to fly it.” Kenyatta hesitantly put her hand on the well-worn handle, and her breath was instantly taken away. It was like grabbing onto a live wire! And Professor O’Neill was going to let her ride this thing? “Silver, this is Keyatta Laveau, she’s going to be riding you. Don’t hold anything back, do exactly what she tells you to.”

The broom seemed to pulse in her hand, and some of that intensity to it seemed to reduce, and Keyatta let out a slow breath, suddenly very nervous. She was really going to ride this monster? Yes, apparently. Professor O’Neill was already mounting Keyatta’s broom, lifting off and hovering about ten feet off the ground, looking down at her. “We’ll do one lap, and I’ll mark the course with a trail, then we can race, and whoever wins gets bragging rights. Now come on, we don’t have all day.”

Numbly, Keyatta cast Tia Freyre, and Silver hovered obediently three feet off the ground, and she mounted it, rear resting on the well-worn saddle, wrapping her legs around the pegs so that they rested behind her knees and on top of her feet, like she had seen Professor O’Neill do in the videos on Witchtube. Heart hammering nervously, she gently brought the broom up to where her professor was waiting, and it was so strange…she could almost feel the broom’s impatient potential, it was like she was driving a formula one race car at the speed limit. The broom did it, but it seriously felt like it wanted to open up and just go.

Professor O’Neill gave her a smirk before turning forward and heading off, a sparkling golden trail emitting from Keyatta’s broom’s bristles, and the course that they were to run started with a long straightaway before banking sharply to the right before it meandered all over the school, at times mere feet from the ground, other times soaring up into the sky. It circled tightly up and around the New Moon Tower before diving sharply towards the ground. It did two laps around the perimeter of the athletic field. It weaved through the spires on the roof of the main school building, and it ran a few feet over the ground, heading towards the Observatory before it shot straight up, and Professor O’Neill marked a horizontal circle just in front of the end of the walkway that would be the finish.

They stopped there for a moment, and Keyatta glanced at all of her classmates who were looking at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and she licked her lips as she wiped sweaty hands off on her robes, and Professor O’Neill was still smirking at her. “You can back out now if you want,” she said, amusement clear in her voice, and the competitive fire in Keyatta’s heart was lit.

“No, I want to do this!” she protested, and Professor O’Neill nodded before going into a slow dive back towards the base of the tower and the start point, and Keyatta took a deep, steeling breath. Okay, she had the better broom, and she was also smaller and lighter than the older witch. She should be more able to maneuver through tight areas…right? Professor O’Neill had well over a decade of riding experience, including some very high stakes races, but she was on Keyatta’s broom, and while it was a nice enough broom, it wasn’t built for a race more intense than the Luna Nova Cup. Surely she had a chance!

With that little bit of self-reassurance, she gave one last glance at her classmates before she, too, dived down to where Professor O’Neill was now waiting, and seeing the red-headed teacher roll her multi-colored eyes, she looked behind her to see most of her class taking off on their own brooms as they headed for the best vantage points to see the race. They were going to have an audience.

Then she reached the start point, and Professor O’Neill fished a pair of goggles out of one of her pants cargo pockets and handed them to her. “Here, you’re going to want these,” she said, dropping the goggles that had been resting across her forehead down over her mismatched eyes as Keyatta put on the offered goggles, making sure that the strap was tight. Once her hands returned to the broomstick, Professor O’Neill shot her a look. “Alright, y’all ready?” she drawled, and Keyatta nodded, nerves skyrocketing, and she wouldn’t trust herself to speak. “Alright, on your mark…get set…go!”

They were both off like a shot, the air instantly roaring against Keyatta’s ears as Silver rocketed forward, easily outstripping Professor O’Neill, and Keyatta couldn’t help the exhilarated whoop that erupted from her as she tore down the golden trail…only for that excitement to disappear as she shot past the turn, and she grunted, straining with all her strength to try and turn the broom to return to the race course, lifting her head to see Professor O’Neill effortlessly make the sharp turn, legs crossed at the ankles over the broomstick as she yanked up on the broom, taking the lead. Snarling every last Cajun curse she knew under her breath, Keyatta wrestled with Silver, finally getting it to turn, and she shot after Professor O’Neill as she cursed herself for her stupidity. All the speed in the world wouldn’t help if she lost fine control of the broom. She only had to go just a little faster than she knew her broom was capable of, and she’d win!

The next leg of the race didn’t have much in the way of sharp turns, and she was able to close the large gap that had developed between her and Professor O’Neill, but she couldn’t quite take the lead before they reached the New Moon Tower, and she grit her teeth as she followed Professor O’Neill in the spiraling path up and up, and she started to get a feel of just how badly she was actually outclassed. She was able to keep the path, but her movements were slightly jerky, and she kept well away from the tower…Professor O’Neill was as smooth as silk in her flight, and had she reached a hand up, she’d be able to touch the tower whose windows flashed by in rapid blurs. By the Nine, she’s good, she breathed to herself…and then they were clear of the tower and heading into the dive, the negative G’s pulling at Keyatta’s robes, and her stomach seemed to rise up into her throat as she was able to use gravity to take the lead again…only to lose it as she slowed down well in advance of the ground so that she could make the sharp turn. Overshooting a hard bank wasn’t a problem when you had nothing but air in front of you, but not pulling out of a dive heading right for the ground…

So it was a surprise when Professor O’Neill shot past her at the same break neck speed, and she couldn’t help the cry of alarm as the Texan rocketed towards the hard and unforgiving ground, only to stare in shock as Professor O’Neill managed to pull out of the dive, the bristles of Keyatta’s broom slapping the grass before O’Neill was pulling further ahead, and Keyatta grit her teeth as she followed after, once again closing the distance as they closed in on the athletic field, but even here she was outmatched, Professor O’Neill heading into the turns perilously close to the ground, close enough that when she turned, her knees brushed against the ground, the pads built into the pants protecting them as well as providing that much more friction to have the turns be that much sharper, and frustration bit at Keyatta as the gap between her and the Professor grew that much wider. She didn’t even know that her broom was capable of flying like that, how the hell did Professor O’Neill make it look that effortless?!

Then they were on the straightaway heading towards the main building, and Keyatta tried, she really did, but the lead between her and the Professor was just too big for her to clear in the short distance they had, and all she could manage was to get within ten feet of Professor O’Neill when they entered the spires, and honestly, it was at that point that Keyatta gave up all hope of actually winning this thing. She had to slow down to a manageable speed as she wove between the towering spires, but through it all, she couldn’t help but gape at Professor O’Neill. Keyatta was confident enough in her flying ability to keep the distance between her and the spires to within a few feet as she passed them…Professor O’Neill? She kept the distance down to mere inches, and how she did it blew Keyatta’s mind.

Professor O’Neill moved her body, not the broom, and it boggled the mind to think of how much strength and coordination it must have taken, but for each spire that she passed, Professor O’Neill would literally throw her body in the opposite direction, keeping contact with the broom with only a hooked ankle and gripping hand, and the amount of control she must have had over the broom to keep from spinning out of control as she did the crazy maneuver…Keyatta wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t powerful enough to exert that much control over a broom, and probably wouldn’t for years!

Then they were clear of the main building, and Keyatta ground her teeth together as she leaned low over the broom, urging it to go faster, to close that unbridgeable gap between her and the professor, and Silver complied, leaping forward eagerly. This time, she drew even with Professor O’Neill as they shot toward the near right angle turn that lead straight up the side of the Observatory, and she glanced over to see the former daredevil flier smirk at her before Keyatta had to slow down so she could make the turn safely, and she watched as Professor O’Neill leapt up away from the broom, planting a foot on top of where the bristles met the broomstick, pulling up with all her strength, the muscles of her back flexing and swelling with the strain of it as the bristles rasped against the grass before she was shooting straight up, body perfectly in line with the broom, and her sleek form cut through the air with very little drag, giving her just enough of an edge that Keyatta, despite trying her hardest, still finished the race just behind Professor O’Neill, much to the delight of her classmates who cheered and clapped at Professor O’Neill’s victory, and as the redhead slowed down and sat properly on the broom and Keyatta caught up to her, she shot a smug look at her. “So, you still think I can’t do any better?” she laughed.

Keyatta didn’t reply as she turned and headed back to the walkway, depositing the broom silently against the railing after she landed. She wasn’t even mad, she was actually terribly impressed with how well Professor O’Neill had flown, but the knowledge that she hadn’t had a chance even while on Silver was a bitter pill to swallow. She wouldn’t participate in the rest of the lesson after Professor O’Neill corralled all the other students back and continued her teaching. Instead, Keyatta merely sat on the walkway in the bright sun and brisk wind, arms wrapped around the legs drawn up to her chest as she went through the race moment by moment, analyzing every last move that Professor O’Neill had made. The older witch was so skilled, so it still begged the question:

Why would someone who could fly like that be so opposed to any of the students really pushing their skills and abilities to the max? Was she truly so afraid of losing someone that she would continue to keep them well below what they were all capable of?

These thoughts continued to ear at her as Professor O’Neill wrapped up the lesson and the rest of the students left, Lihuang and Astrid hesitating slightly over her as she continued to sit, but with a pair of sighs, they, too, mounted their brooms and left, leaving only her and Professor O’Neill on the walkway.

“Hey, kiddo, are you alright?” Professor O’Neill asked after a long pause, and normally the nickname would have annoyed Keyatta, but Professor O’Neill never called anyone by a nickname. “I, uh, I’d like to apologize for what I said…at the end of the race. It wasn’t very mature of me, but I was so pumped up after the race…it’s not very often than I get the chance to really fly like that…”

“Professor…” Keyatta started, voice hesitant. “Why…why won’t you let use really fly?” She turned confused, sad eyes on Professor O’Neill, who shifted uneasily, a look of discomfort on her face. “I’d get so mad because you treated me like a little kid when all the other professors would treat me my age, but…”

“Little kid?” Professor O’Neill scoffed as she dropped down to sit beside Keyatta. “I wouldn’t let a little kid ride that course, and I sure as shit wouldn’t let a little kid ride Silver!” Then she paused, fingers tapping absently on the floor of the walkway. “I just…I lost a lot of close friends and a cherished mentor during the Battle of Arcturus Forest, and the thought of losing anyone else, especially for something stupid like an accident while broom riding…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” she said, voice almost broken, and Keyatta shot a startled glance at her teacher, who had a completely open look on her face, a deep vulnerability to her as she opened up to her student, and Keyatta wasn’t sure how to handle being the one that Professor O’Neill was so open towards.

Then she glanced at Silver and blinked as the idea struck her. “Hey, Professor, can I ask a favor?” she asked, and at the redhead’s questioning glance, she continued. “Can I…can I see you run that course, on Silver, not holding anything back?”

Professor O’Neill stared at her for a long moment before a mischievous grin split her face. “You know what, kid, I’ll do you one better. You want to ride with me while I run the course?”

Keyatta’s eyes flared open at the, and she was so very glad that her dark skin helped hide blushes as the thought of riding on Silver with Professor O’Neill struck her full force. “I-I don’t know if that would b-be a good idea, Professor,” she protested, and Professor O’Neill just grinned wider.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve had to ride double with other students before, generally witches who are really uncertain of their ability and need someone to show them the ropes.” She stood up, dusted off her pants, and offered a hand to Keyatta. “Come on, I insist.”

Keyatta hesitated for a moment before she placed her hand in the warm, well-calloused hand of her professor, and she was pulled effortlessly to her feet as her blush deepened, though thankfully it seemed as though Professor O’Neill didn’t noticed as she prepared for the flight, first telling Silver that it would bear two riders, and it flashed briefly as the saddle elongated and the pegs moved so that both riders could rest their feet on them. Then Professor O’Neill changed Keyatta’s robes that they had a harness that she would connect to her belt, for safety, she explained cheerily as she motioned to the leather strap that Keyatta had noticed wrapped around the broomstick and that was attached to the saddle. Professor O’Neill would be attached to the broom, and Keyatta would be attached to her professor, so there was no chance of falling.

They mounted, and Keyatta wrapped arms around Professor O’Neill’s waist after she attached the clip of her harness to Professor O’Neill’s belt, feeling the firm, toned muscles dancing under the black fabric of her teacher’s shirt as Professor O’Neill buckled herself onto the broom. “Alright, just remember, keep with my body as we fly. We won’t be going as fast as I can get Silver to go, but it’ll be fast. And if you do well, then maybe we can talk about starting an advanced flyer’s course. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds good, Professor,” Keyatta managed to say with a level voice, despite the heavy blush on her face.

Professor O’Neill laughed as the broom lifted off the walkway. “Of course it does, it’s my idea! Now, hold on, here we go!” They shot off into the welcoming spring sky like an arrow fired from a bow, and Keyatta couldn’t help the laugh of delight that sprang from her lips as they dove towards the ground and the waiting starting point. After the flight, which would be the fastest Keyatta had ever been on, she would resolve to become the president of the sizable Professor O’Neill Fan Club as well as to put together the framework for an Advanced Flyer’s Club to be presented to the Headmistress, but right here and now, she resolved to truly enjoy the feeling of the wind in her hair, the warm sun against her skin, and the strength of the professor she held onto and moved with as they streaked through the course.

One thing was for damn certain, though…she was never going to be a problem student for Professor O’Neill ever again!

#Little Witch Academia #amanda o'neill #hannah england #Barbara Parker #professor finnelan #hanbarmanda #professor o'neill #Keyatta Laveau #Astrid Ingridsdottir #Lihua Chang #broom race #what a decade brings

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winterverses · 6 years ago

Text

Walking Wounded - Chapter Seventy-Five

Content Warning: Discussion of violence.

The aircar zoomed toward Justice, bobbing and weaving through traffic in a way that reminded Kirk of games back at the Academy. Starships were so much slower, even shuttles-- sure, maybe it was just that they felt that way, but between the shields and the navigation systems there was almost never a situation where you needed the kind of reaction time that you had to have to pilot an aircar. The closest situation he’d come to needing those kinds of reflexes was when they’d first encountered the drones, and still, that had been nothing like the split second timing that this driver had. Come to think of it, it was the same driver from that first day back on Yorktown.

“Ugh. Remind me why I ever thought giving an interview was a good idea,” Anne said, scrolling through the article.

“What? They get something wrong?” Kirk asked, looking away from the window and trying to skim what he saw on the screen. “Slow down, you’re going too fast for me.”

She slowed enough that he could read as well. “Nothing wrong, just… ugh. I hate feeling like my life is being dissected all over the place. Look how many times it’s been read already.”

Kirk began to read at random, in the middle of a passage.

‘It’s easy to tell just how much their experiences have affected their relationship. Captain Kirk’s rakish grin and confident air fade a little the moment Ms. Hardesty begins to look troubled, turning fiercely protective, no matter how casually he plays it off. She, in turn, makes no secret of how much his presence comforts her, and her voice hardly wavers so long as his arm is around her, even when giving what details she can of her quite frankly horrific experiences.

That’s not to say that their relationship has been only beneficial for them; though they couldn’t comment on the exact circumstances, they’ve dealt with some serious injuries, the causes rooted in Ms. Hardesty’s devotion and Captain Kirk’s protective impulses. The worst of these injuries were ones they weren’t even free to talk about, citing their unreliability as witnesses where the other is concerned and their unwillingness to jeopardize their upcoming court case. Only the circumstances surrounding the event itself could be detailed, and there is no better or more succinct way to put it than in the Captain’s own words:

“Anne gets dragged away from the side of one of my senior officers, I rush to get the ship there in time and go haring off after her… and when we come out of that room, my guts are hanging out, and she’s almost lost an eye, her mind, and still doesn’t even remember who I am.”

One can hardly help but question the circumstances; would this have turned out the same had their feelings not been a factor?’

“It’s bullshit, gorgeous. Don’t bother yourself over it.” Kirk went to blank the screen.

“Don’t,” Anne said, batting at his hand in irritation.

Fine, okay. He settled back into his seat, looking out the window again, until the next time she muttered something under her breath. “If it’s going to bother you that much, just shut it off,” he said, a little irritated himself.

She registered that irritation, because she stilled, then leaned on him. “I’m sorry. I just can’t look away. And it’s not like not reading it will be any better.”

Immediately, he felt like an ass. Of course she wouldn’t be able to help wanting to read it. She’d never seen herself through the lens of someone else’s writing before. Her writing, sure, but she’d always been careful to stay out of the public eye. He hadn’t been able to put down the first article he’d ever been interviewed for back when he’d first taken command of the Enterprise, even though it had eviscerated him for not getting to Vulcan in time as much as lauded him for saving Earth. And she was right-- if she wasn’t getting upset by the article, she’d just be getting upset over something far closer, and with a lot better and more concrete reasons. “No, it’s my fault. It’s weird seeing yourself like that, I know. Go on ahead and read it, and if you find anything really awful about it, let me know.”

“The worst thing so far is the craftsmanship,” Anne grumbled. “Really, trying to maintain a neutral voice by using ‘one’ as a substitute for ‘I’ is shoddy. I see why she’s done it, but for heaven’s sake, there are better ways of skinning that particular cat. Learn to use your words to better effect.”

Okay, he couldn’t help a laugh at Anne’s sneering. He kept it quiet, though. “What’s more irritating, the subject matter, or the way it’s written?”

Anne turned to look at him incredulously. “The way it’s written, of course,” she said, then looked thoughtful. “Maybe I should give the girl some advice.”

“I can’t think of a better way to guarantee we get a much less flattering article next time,” Kirk said, throwing his arm over Anne’s shoulders. He was glad of that in a moment, when the aircar started to plummet, not that they felt it. It just meant they were at Justice, and Anne knew that. She inched up even closer to him and blanked the screen, her body tensing. “It’ll be all right,” he said, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I’d better be, or Claudia will have someone’s head for all that wasted work,” Anne said dryly.

“I’ll let her take point on that one. Mainly because I think she’d do a better job of beheading someone than I would. She’s probably had more practice,” he deadpanned.

He couldn’t tell whether Anne was just playing along or whether she actually thought that was plausible when she replied. Hell, come to think of it, it was pretty plausible. “I’ll have to ask her about her time in med school. That seems like the most likely setting for a beheading, and I’ve always wanted to know the specific physical sensations involved. For verisimilitude, of course.”

The aircar came to a stop before the Justice building, and Kirk said, “1600 in front of the lower deck entrances, right?”

“1500, sir,” the driver said.

Kirk gave the guy a half grin. “Just checking.” The driver lifted a hand in response.

The crowd outside was, if anything, bigger than the one before. He suspected that article hadn’t helped things any, not with those women still feeding information to the press. Anne had been right about what she’d said, though-- if they left by a route they hadn’t previously been seen to use, they probably wouldn’t have to deal with the crowd on their way out. And then they could just wait out the press until the last trial was over. “All right, gorgeous. Stick close to me and don’t let go,” Kirk said.

Anne’s face was even paler than usual, but her mouth was set in a determined line, and she nodded. Kirk opened the door and stepped out, reaching back for Anne’s hand and tucking it in the crook of his arm as she exited the car behind him. The door slid shut, but by that time they were already walking, dodging reporters, Kirk breaking a path and Anne following behind. About three quarters of the way to the door, he felt a sudden jerk on his arm and heard Anne yelp. He immediately saw red, whirling to find Anne grabbing for his arm, looking behind her. He caught her seeking hand instead, yanking her toward him in a way that could have made someone with worse balance stumble; even in stiletto heels, she was barely fazed by it, her shoulder lightly smacking against his side as she skidded to a halt. Kirk immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, picking up his pace. “Did you see who did that?” he asked over the rising tumult of sound around them.

“No, but he won’t be walking very easily,” Anne said, rubbing at her bare arm. Red marks from the guy’s fingers were slowly fading. “I wore these heels for a reason.”

Kirk pulled out his communicator just as he saw a few members of his senior staff directing officers in the Starbase uniform to come and meet them. Immediately, he holstered it, beckoning two of the officers to him as he and Anne were surrounded by the rest. “You, and you, search the crowd. Whoever did that will be limping. Find him, and hold him on my authority. Notify me immediately.” The officers acknowledged and hurried past. “If they don’t find him, I want the surveillance clip from that timestamp examined until a positive ID can be made,” Kirk said, directing his order to the ranking officer.

“Are you planning to press charges, sir? I mean, ma’am?”

Kirk looked down at Anne. She looked shaken and sick, but not so upset that she was about to call this thing off. He almost wished that she was. “Yes,” she said. She tried to grin, but it was just a shadow of its normal brilliance. “Provided that someone who specializes in law can be found somewhere around here.”

“Federation Justice has several dozen representatives on hand at any given moment, ma’am,” the Lieutenant said earnestly. Kirk and Anne just looked at each other and then kept walking. To his credit, when the Lieutenant received no reply he seemed to catch on, looking a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said as they reached Uhura, Spock, McCoy, and Hayes.

“It’s all right. I’m afraid my wit isn’t at its best when I’m nervous,” Anne said, flashing a more natural looking grin at the Lieutenant, who gave her a tentative smile back.

“I’ll make sure that footage gets reviewed, Captain, ma’am,” the Lieutenant said.

“While you’re at it, you can tell Commodore Paris that we want a dedicated escort any time those women know where you are,” Hayes said. “This is really ridiculous. It was ridiculous last time and it’s even more ridiculous now.”

“While Medical gets a certain amount of leeway, the rest of us have to follow the established chain of command, Lieutenant Commander Hayes,” Kirk said pointedly. “I’ll take it up with Commodore Paris while I wait.”

“You’d better--”

“I’ll hold him to it, Dr. Hayes,” Uhura said.

“Good,” Hayes said. Then they were past the doors, and the din seemed to press closer in. The crowd was more orderly, however, with officers clearing a path and keeping the press well back. Kirk kept his arm around Anne’s waist, though, deciding that he didn’t particularly care about looking unprofessional at the moment. As soon as they were in the elevator, however, Hayes practically shoved him aside, looking Anne over, checking the arm the man had grabbed. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“No, he just grabbed me,” Anne said, holding out her wrist so that Hayes could take her pulse. “It frightened me, that’s all.”

“I’ll have to run it by our judges, but I’ll try to get you a dose of anxiolytic before we start. Don’t you even open your mouth,” she said, cutting Anne off before she could say anything. “This cannot be called normal anxiety considering your recent experiences, and it could mean the difference between being able to go through with this and just suffering all the collateral damage while not actually being far enough under to get anything done.”

“If it means only going through with this once, I’m all for it,” Kirk said. “Any chance you can triple that dosage?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Hayes said. “Truth serums don’t exist, or at least, not in the sense of being unable to lie. The drugs we have depend on both lowering inhibition, and creating fear. It’s a balancing act, and if she has too much of the anxiolytic, it could inhibit the effects of one or both of the other drugs.”

No wonder Anne had avoided the topic so thoroughly in conversation with him. She had to have known he’d hate that. “Can’t we just get a brain scan done and--”

“No,” Anne broke in, her voice as thin and sharp as a blade. As Kirk opened his mouth to question, she interrupted him again. “I don’t want my brain on file, not even with Starfleet. It’s not an option.”

Between the set of her mouth and her serious eyes, Kirk knew better than to question further-- at least not right now, anyway. “What happens if they don’t think you’re telling the truth?”

Claudia answered him instead. “The normal process is that they’ll go through it a few times, at incrementally increasing dosages. I’ve been lobbying to try to get them to settle for one or two passes. It averages four, though. Never more than six. After six, you run the risk of self-harm even in restraints, unrecoverable mental damage, and cardiac events.”

Now he understood. She’d tortured the other women. It probably seemed only fair. Before Kirk could decide whether to call her on it, Spock broke in. “May I remind you, Captain, that I will be immediately available throughout and if Anne is too strongly affected, I will do whatever is in my power to mitigate her distress.”

Kirk almost spoke, then did a double-take. Spock had used her first name. He glanced over at Uhura, who just shrugged. “Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said. It was almost enough to take the edge off what Hayes had said.

“I’ll be fine, mon étoile,” Anne said softly, shaking off Hayes’ hand and stepping back up against his side. “Whatever they do, it can’t possibly be as bad as what has already been done, and I’ve recovered well enough from that.”

McCoy snorted, but didn’t speak. The turbolift doors slid open and they filed out, following Hayes, who seemed to know where she was going. As they did, Kirk looked down at Anne. “Your accent says you aren’t as calm about it as you’d like to be,” Kirk said, pulling her close. Damn, it was weird having her so tall. Well, relatively speaking. Her eyes were about level with his chin.

“And the polite thing would have been to ignore that,” Anne said, regarding him with a small frown. Regardless, she pressed into him, her body taut against his.

Kirk slid his arm back around her waist. With those shoes on, she was just a bit too tall for his arm to rest easily across her shoulders. “Maybe we should just give Sulu our apologies now,” Kirk said, studying her face.

“No. At the very least, we can go and say hello while we pick up dinner. Ben promised he was going to make me chòudòufu.” At his questioning look, Anne grinned. “Well, it was really more of a threat. Stinky tofu.”

Kirk sighed. “This is restaurant humor, isn’t it? Like telling Scotty you ejected a warp core while running maintenance on the cylinders or something.”

“Yes, mon étoile. I would never surprise you with something that… particular. No natto, no durian, no chòudòufu… Well, maybe natto. If you can eat gagh, texture certainly isn’t an issue.”

“Should you ever decide to make chòudòufu, I would be interested to try it,” Spock said, and Kirk couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not. “I find many human dishes to be lacking in flavor, perhaps due to my biology.”

“There’s nothing markedly different about your sense of taste,” Hayes said. “You’re better at handling capsaicin because of your higher pain tolerance.”

“He’s just a closet gourmand,” McCoy grumbled. “Tries to explain away his daredevil tastes by blaming it on being Vulcan.”

“I apologize, Spock,” Anne said, looking genuinely sorry. “It takes several months to make properly. Ben doesn’t have any either-- I would know, because I would have smelled it in their apartment by now. Even air scrubbers can’t get rid of that smell. I very much doubt you can get it on Yorktown at all, and it’s an absolute certainty that it isn’t on the synth logs.” She paused, thinking.

“Oh no you don’t,” Kirk said. “If it’s that bad, the last thing I want is for people to be able to synthesize it on extremely lengthy deep space missions. That would be like weaponizing the synthesizer.”

“It occurs to me that it could be to our advantage to be able to synthesize a potentially objectionable form of human food, Captain. Most specifically in diplomatic capacities.”

Kirk was tempted for a moment, but eventually shook his head. “In this case, I think the cost would outweigh the benefits, Mr. Spock.”

“Here we are,” Hayes said, stopping at one of the nondescript doors lining the hallway. “Now, Captain, you’ll be allowed to sit nearby, but not within arm’s reach. Leonard and I will be right there, so you don’t need to worry. If anything starts to look odd to me, I’ll call a halt.”

“Have you ever sat in on something like this before?” Kirk asked.

Hayes nodded. “And worked with people who have been through it. That’s where I developed the technique I used with Anne, among others.”

That, at least, was comforting. Hayes had been a stroke of luck in so many different ways. Kirk knew he should have at least tried to appear professional, but letting Anne go before he had to was just not going to happen. They walked into the lab, the others following behind.

Padded restraints. Barbaric. The examination table looked like a relic from another century. Vice-Admiral Landau glanced up from his padd as they stepped into the room, his lips thinning in a humorless smile. Councilor V’nula and Councilor Andrews looked on impassively as he spoke. “Good. I was notified that there was some trouble at the entry, but you seem sound enough.”

Claudia immediately sailed into her request for something to calm Anne, pulling up research and specific chemical interactions to justify the use of an anxiolytic. As Landau listened, a skeptical look on his face, one of the nurses approached Anne. “This way, please,” she said, smiling reassuringly. When Kirk started to follow, however, she held up her hand. “Just Ms. Hardesty, I’m afraid. No one is to have physical access to Ms. Hardesty apart from medical personnel from our initial scans onward, otherwise our results could be deemed invalid.”

She meant the possibility that he might slip Anne something, a contact drug of some sort, that might alter her ability to deal with the drugs. That didn’t make it any less insulting. Still, he didn’t intend to sit through this more than once, so he didn’t put up a fuss. Anne hesitated, then turned back to him and hesitated again, glancing at Vice-Admiral Landau.

He couldn’t help a little pang of affection. She wanted a bit of comfort, but she wouldn’t make him look unprofessional in front of someone who technically outranked him. It was good that he didn’t give a fuck what Landau thought. Kirk pulled her into an embrace, kissing her forehead and murmuring softly, “You’ll be okay, tiger. We’ll make sure of it.” Even if he wasn’t entirely sure, he wasn’t about to undermine her confidence by saying so.

She held onto him for a few moments, then pulled away, immediately walking toward that barbaric examination table.

A lot of nothing interesting happened in the beginning. Most of it was just scans and calculations. Hayes seemed to find something odd, but she shrugged it off after talking to Bones. Kirk contacted Commodore Paris and formally requested a security detail for Loche’s trial, and she agreed. She also complimented him on his handling of the media; apparently the article had been well-received.

So much talk about that stupid article. Kirk borrowed Spock’s padd and read it through while waiting for something to happen. That reporter had gotten everything right, and the writing wasn’t half as bad as Anne had claimed. He didn’t remember talking much about how they’d become involved, though-- Anne must have said something about it to Felden. Again, they’d gotten everything right. That didn’t improve his opinion of that reporter though.

He was wondering what to do next when he saw Anne arranging herself into those restraints, and Hayes shooting her up with multiple drugs. Seemed like the circus was about to get started. Kirk gave back the borrowed padd and kept his attention on Anne. She looked miserable, of course. Who wouldn’t be miserable? The restraints automatically adjusted to her limbs, trapping her. Hayes must have won the argument about the anxiolytic, because Anne didn’t immediately try to get out of them. There was a bit of shuffling and rearranging of where people were standing, and then Vice-Admiral Landau spoke quietly. “For the record, we need you to state that you’re here of your own free will and that you have not been coerced or compelled to be subjected to this procedure.”

Anne frowned, but complied. “I’ve agreed to this procedure of my own free will. I have not been coerced or compelled.”

“Thank you,” Landau said. He nodded to the doctor. Hayes and McCoy were both scowling so hard at that doctor that Kirk wondered why he didn’t burst into flames. Instead, he tinkered with a few of the displays before pressing another hypospray against Anne’s neck. Immediately, he loaded it up with something else and dosed her again.

It was evident when the drugs kicked in. Anne’s breathing quickened, her hands clamping into fists. Councilor V’nula began the questioning with simple things like Anne’s name, date of birth, and place of residence to get a base reading from her. Anne answered quickly, as if she wanted all this to be over with, and Kirk agreed completely.

Councillor Andrews stepped in with the harder questions. Despite her stern look, Kirk knew that she was a bit sympathetic at heart. She was the best choice for some of the things that were asked. Anne answered with as much detachment as she could muster, but by this point she was almost panting with fear.

“When you threatened Meredith, did you have any idea that you were pushing her toward suicide?”

“Yes. That was what I was told to do. He made me memorize how to push her buttons. He told me to make her feel worthless.”

“And why did you comply?”

“Because he had just cut me up and I was afraid he would do it again. More than once he told me he wanted to cut my back and legs or my face the same way.”

“So you played the role of enforcer with his other captives.”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy hurting them?”

“I don’t know. I hated them for being weak. I wanted to be away from them. I wanted to be one of them. It looked easier.”

“Did you ever attack them on your own initiative?”

“Only Brynna.”

“Did you enjoy killing her?”

“No. No. I never want to think about it again. I wish I could forget it.”

How could this not be enough? Anne was clearly unwilling. Even if she had mixed feelings about the other captives, she was consistently horrified by the things she’d had to do. Kirk had heard some of them; others he’d guessed at, and still others were a surprise. Uhura looked sick hearing some of the things Anne had done. Spock betrayed no emotion whatsoever; he’d been in her head for some of these memories. Bones was just watching Anne thoughtfully, and Hayes was unmoved by the things Anne said. Of course, Anne must have discussed some or most of them with her.

As Andrews finished up, the doctor began fiddling with his displays again, then shot Anne up again. This time, the results were far more visible. Anne was actively struggling against the restraints, her breathing shallow and quick, her movements jerky with all the adrenaline that had just been dumped into her system.

And they asked her the questions over again, digging for more details this time. Kirk could see why it was done that way, but still, these memories had been part of why Anne was so traumatized. This basically amounted to a form of torture.

“When you cut off Heather’s fingers, what were you feeling?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t remember doing it. I don’t want to remember it… she was screaming.”

“Why did you cut them off one by one?”

“Loche. He made me. He told me.”

“Why did you obey him?”

Anne broke down crying, and Kirk felt sick watching it. He’d almost stood up, but a warning glance from Bones reminded him of the consequences. He gripped the arms of his seat and waited.

“I had to. I couldn’t-- I-- He made me. He hurt me if I didn’t obey.”

“Did you ever try to disobey?”

“Yes. Five times.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I tried to escape. I failed. He punished me.”

“How did he punish you?”

Instead of answering, Anne started to retch. Kirk heard a crack, and realized he’d gripped the arm of his chair hard enough to break the plastic. The doctor rushed up and shot her up with something, and the retching stopped.

“How did he punish you?”

“He-- He-- I-- Lauren. She died, he killed her. He killed her with my hands. He made me hold the knife. He cut, he made me cut her face, she was still alive. He held my hand and made me. After that… After that I couldn’t. He wanted to make me sick like him.”

By that point, Andrews and Landau both looked unsettled. Uhura looked as if she was about to cry. Spock was Spock, of course, and Bones still looked more thoughtful than anything else. Hayes was scowling again.

Landau, Andrews, and V’nula huddled for a conference, and a disagreement appeared to happen. Kirk couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could see that V’nula was insisting on something, and Andrews and Landau were against it. He had the feeling this was about whether they would do a third pass or not. In the meantime, Anne was silently crying, swallowing hard but making no sound.

The argument continued for a while, but eventually they came to a decision. “We have no need of further investigation,” Landau said. “It is clear that Ms. Hardesty was coerced and in danger of losing her life.”

The doctor began to adjust the displays again. Kirk tried to bite back his anger. There was no need for this. Even if this was what Anne had chosen, Starfleet didn’t have to go along with it. They could have looked at the evidence. They could have used a mind meld. They could have brought a Betazoid in to listen to Anne and find out whether she was telling the truth. He was walking toward Anne before he realized it, but no one stopped him. Before anyone could do anything, he’d hit the release on the restraints. Bones stepped forward, reaching for one of the hypos on a nearby table, but all Anne did without the restraints was sit up on the table, curling her legs under her, and look up at Kirk.

“Do you hate me for what I did?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears. “I know it’s the drugs but I’m so scared--”

He cut her off by pulling her into his arms. “No way. I get it. Let’s just get you the counteractives and then we’ll get out of here.”

Her whole body was trembling. Kirk snapped at the doctor, and he gave her a few shots with the hypo, after which she started to calm down. Spock and Uhura approached, and Anne smiled weakly at them.

“Would you like this memory or any other excised?” Spock asked.

Anne shook her head. “Thank you for making the offer. I’ll get over them the old-fashioned way.” She looked over at Claudia. “Provided you’re still available,” she said uncertainly.

“Of course I am,” Claudia said, her voice low and even. “Remember, Anne, we all knew your situation. Knowing the details isn’t comfortable for a friend, but it’s not like any of this was a surprise.”

Uhura stepped up, laying a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “We took them all down. Don’t forget that.”

Anne’s eyelids were starting to droop. “I know,” she said softly. “But some things you just can’t make up for.”

“It’s all right,” Kirk said. She looked exhausted, and no wonder. He glanced over at Vice-Admiral Landau, wondering if they were released to go. It wasn’t quite 1500 hours yet, but he wanted to get out of here. He wanted to get Anne out of here. Deciding he didn’t give a fuck, he asked, “Do you think you can make it to the car or do I need to carry you?”

That earned him a little smile. “I can walk. Probably.” Kirk moved out of the way and she slid off the table, a little wobbly in those spike heels but all right.

Bones shook his head. “I hope this decision was worth it for you,” he said, his voice curiously free of the disdain Kirk would have expected with a comment like that.

Anne rubbed the tears from her cheeks. “I do too.”

“I want to see you tomorrow,” Bones said. “There was an anomalous reading I want to check out.”

“I don’t know if… could you come to our place?” Anne asked, her voice tentative.

Bones smirked. “Better than having you wreck my equipment again.”

Not that he wanted to be impatient, but Kirk wanted to leave. It was over, she looked like she would recover, and they were expected at Sulu’s apartment before they could go home. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Vice-Admiral Landau must have overheard him, because he approached Kirk and Anne. “I would very much have preferred that this went to trial, but I’m glad it’s over with and you’ve been found definitively, objectively innocent, ” he said. “I hope never to have to see you in a professional capacity again after Loche’s trial.”

Before Anne could answer, Kirk found himself speaking up. “This was unnecessary, sir. You could have received the same results by using a mind meld or calling in a Betazoid to read her responses.”

The Vice-Admiral shook his head, his eyes regretful. “If we used a sentient for this, it would be less objective. At best it would be filtered through someone else’s biases; at worst, subject to potentially relevant concerns about corruption or conspiracy. It needed to be absolutely unassailable to protect all parties’ rights. I’m afraid there was no better way in this case.”

Frowning, Kirk was about to make a sharp retort, but Anne spoke before he did. “I just want to go home, Jim,” she said softly, her eyes inexpressibly tired.

It was her exhaustion that stopped him. “You’re right. It’s not worth it now.” Kirk sighed and wrapped an arm around Anne’s waist. “Let’s go.” Kirk nodded to Landau. “Sir.” Without waiting for a response, Kirk headed off to the elevator with Anne at his side, making for the lower decks.

#James T. Kirk/OC #Jim Kirk/OC #Star Trek #Star Trek Fanfiction #dark romance #fanfic #ST:WW #Star Trek: Walking Wounded

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midnight-musings-blog · 6 years ago

Text

another example of a fanfic scene

Here is Mercurio making an appearance for you Mercurio fans. Somewhat still in a raw early draft form, so when it appears will probably be fleshed out some more. Also, I have included his pet cat - whose name I have from @themanonthecouch. thanks.

She arrived at Mercurio’s apartment soon afterwards. ‘’Hello. Mercurio?’’

‘’Yeah. I would say it’s nice to see you again, but ah, given the circumstances,’’ he opened the door wider letting her enter. A quick cautionary glance outside before closing the door again. ‘’I was kinda hopin’ not to see you again. But to be honest, I had a feelin’ that this would happen.’’

‘’What makes you say that?’’ She furrowed her brow.

‘’Well, I dunno,’’ he shrugged, ‘’just felt likely. It was odd that he took you in in the first place, so I wondered if… ah, well, never mind.’’

‘’What makes you say you ‘hoped not to see me again’?’’

He snorted, ‘’since you’re here I think you know pretty damn well why, so don’t play dumb. You don’t strike me as a stupid, so don’t think that I’ll just think you are because you’re a girl.’’ He gave her a slight smile, ‘’anyway. I’m sorry. This is probably a lot to take in for you. And, to be honest, you don’t seem too streetwise.’’ He looked at the girl, a certain naiveté and inexperienced girl-next-door vibe about her. Quite fresh-faced; wide-eyed still. Not experienced in the ways of the world, or of anything clandestine as he was, most likely. Appearances could be deceiving of course, but she struck him as someone not only green in vampire’s shadowy world, but in that of life in general. She was still standing still in the middle of the floor, looking at him expectantly. ‘’Well, you better come through. This way.’’ He led her through to the living area. He’d taken her coat and hung it up for her. ‘’You can sit if you like. Probably more comfortable. I’ve got quite a bit to fill you in on. And I’ll bet you’ve got plenty of questions.’’

‘’Well, he told me some things.’’

‘’Yeah, but I know that LaCroix is… not exactly,’’ he made a face as if he was reaching for the right phrase, ‘’not exactly the easiest to talk with. And he might not have told you everything.’’

‘’No. I mean… he was quite affable before,’’ she reflected. LaCroix had a charm about him, even though his demeanour was brittle and demanding. ‘’but, knowing what he is,’’ she bit her lip, ‘’well I… I just feel uneasy with him now.’’

‘’Yeah. That will have been a shock. I know, I get it.’’

‘’I don’t know how he is. What to expect of him,’’ she said, ‘’I know he sent me to you to instruct me how to er,’’ she grimaced, ‘’’make myself useful to him’. And, how all this ‘Kindred society’ works - what’s expected of me. But, I don’t… can’t you tell me how he is? Some honesty, without the, well, ‘corporate spiel’ I guess? Some insight to all this?’’

‘’Well, maybe the first thing I should say is that my loyalty to him is written in blood so my opinion of the guy’s moot.’’

She looked confused. ‘’what do you mean?’’

‘’You’ll find out.’’

‘’That’s not an answer.’’

‘’LaCroix told me that he’d took you on as a new ghoul of his - that’s why he sent you here.’’

‘’Yes.’’ She admitted unwillingly.

‘’Right. Ok, when I say my loyalty is written in blood I’m not talkin’ figuratively… and it won’t be long before you understand this better than I can tell you it.’’

She stared at him. She’d had an feeling of unease as soon as she first learnt of it. She knew that she must avoid becoming hopelessly devoted to the vampire, for her own sake. For the sake of her sanity and independence of mind. But Mercurio’s words landed like a thud to her. ‘’So, you cannot - will not - say anything against him then? He had me drink his blood. So… I’m stuck with him now am I? He told me that I’d have to ‘serve’ him. There’s no choice then?’’

‘’No. but, you won’t want to go against him - the blood makes you attached,’’ Mercurio admitted, swallowing. He felt bad for her. Maybe it was old-fashioned of him, but seeing an innocent young woman - young enough to be his daughter in fact - made him feel protective. He could not act in defiance towards LaCroix, given that he had been fully bound to the Ventrue for many, many years, but he was still capable of feeling uneasy. Why do this to her? She must have something to offer. Unless he’d done it just to be cruel, which wasn’t beyond belief. But LaCroix was a pragmatic operator, and wouldn’t invest his blood simply for the hell of it. He was demanding, but he was not usually vindictive for the sake of being so.

‘’Oh my god. So I’m a fucking vampire’s slave.’’

’’It’s not completely hopeless. Don’t get scared,’’ he said with a sort of fatalism in his mind such that the words didn’t fully match his thoughts or the reality. ‘’What you need to learn is that you’re in a pretty precarious position - potentially anyway. It’s what you make of it though. If you keep your head down - keep being useful and reliable - make a niche for yourself - you’ll do ok. LaCroix is a demanding guy - which you’ve probably figured by now anyways. But he’s not the worst - trust me. Just don’t antagonise him too much, and he’s quite reasonable - to a point. He is the boss though - our master actually if you wanna be pedantic about it.’’

A dreadful image of Dwight Frye, all crazed-eyed and desperate, unhinged adoration, as Renfield gleefully proclaiming his complete submission to his master flashed in her mind. ‘’I don’t have to call him that all the time, surely?’’

‘’To be honest, you might do it voluntarily.’’ He could see her baulk at that. ‘’And yeah, LaCroix can be pretty pedantic about protocol, so just play along with it.’’

She took a deep breath; closed eyes. Face in hands for a moment to collect herself. ’’Ok, look. I asked him this - but I don’t expect he’s going to be completely honest since he’s got reason to convince me otherwise. And, so do you since you’ve been… serving him for a while. But… Am I going go really crazy or what?’’

‘’It happens. But, not necessarily. It depends how it’s managed. Do I seem nuts to you?’’

‘’You seem ok. Looks are deceiving though, aren’t they? And, I don’t really know you at all.’’

‘’Sure.’’ ‘’I bet you’re imagining something out of a movie aren’t you? Like, those really loopy henchmen they always have with the villains in monster films, right?’’

‘’Yeah. I was thinking like Renfield in Dracula. Much as I love the guy, the thought of ending up like Dwight Frye acts him is not something I want to be. And, frankly, he freaks me out more than Dracula in that film.’’

‘’Fuckin’ hell. That’s too much,’’ Mercurio laughed with a feeling of unease.

‘’I was thinking the term ‘ghoul’ couldn’t be for nothing.’’

‘’Sure. But, you don’t have to be a complete freak. And, to be honest, the vamps don’t seem to think much of those which are, so they tend not to stick around too long.’’

‘’Great.’’

‘’Well, if that helps motivate you to stay on top of it, then it’s as good a reason as any, right?’’

‘’Hmm, I suppose,’’ she sighed.

‘’Don’t get too worried about it now anyway,’’ he said, ‘’it’s not always clear how it will turn out. And, there might be a bit of leeway. He seems to like you a bit.’’

‘’But not like me enough to respect my independence, right?’’ She said with a sternness in the eyes, almost surprising in the girl who seems to him naive, ingenue-like and shy, yet now with this sudden hint of uncommon resolve. ‘’I’d be a desperate and naive person to accept such actions as evidence of liking for me, don’t you think?’’

‘’Er, well, sure. You’re quite right,’’ he trailed off, ‘’but, you know, it’s good that you think like that. The ones who let things like that go to their head really don’t do well or last.’’

‘’Well, I hope so anyway.’’

Mercurio told her a few other things over the rest of the evening.

A tabby cat, brown stripped in colour with a white underbelly and sock-like white furry paws, strolled crossed the floor between them and brushed up against her legs.

‘’Oh, hello,’’ she stroked the curious cat on its head. ‘’Who is this then?’’

‘’Name’s Diana - my cat. Had her for a couple of years,’ Mercurio answered her. He reached out to stroke Diana himself; patting his lap for her to sit on him.

‘’Hmm, you seem like a cat person. We have cats at home.’’

#vtmb #vampire the masquerade #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #mercurio #prince sebastian lacroix #Amelia Siddal #fanfiction #fandom #writing #cats #vampires #ghouls #vtm

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casskaykingston · 6 years ago

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all the way in

TAGGING → @amytaylcr LOCATION → Cass’s House TIMEFRAME → Sunday, February 2nd

Three days ago Amy thought their fight and the aftermath had gone on for too long. Now, she was adamant on putting a final stop to it. Weeks' worth of introspection and careful consideration had given her more than enough food for thought and she was full of it now, ready to lay her cards out on the table for Cass to see, as well. How much or what would eventually fall from her lips she couldn't say, but she knew enough to understand that silence wasn't an option anymore. The night before he went on his camping trip had been one for the books, their fingertips spelling out tenderness that they felt for one another, love drawing affectionate whispers from their mouths that had last spoken out such harsh truths she was worried the damage could never be undone. But underneath the hurt and the anger that had driven them into the argument, at the heart of their relationship, was a love like she had never thought she'd feel, and realized would do anything to protect, even if it meant protecting it from herself.

Especially if it meant that.

Standing by the arrivals gate at the airport, Amy checked the board one more time, an assurance that she hadn't imagined his plane touching down, and shifted on her feet impatiently. There was so much she needed to say, so much they needed to talk about, but above it all, Amy just wanted to see him, to hold him again. This distance was so unlike them, and Amy was ready to go back to how things were, if that was at all possible. Suppose she'd find it out soon enough. Spotting his towering figure come through the automatic doors, Amy stood on the tips of her toes and waved her hand through the air. "Cass!"

It was one of the best vacations he'd ever taken. It hadn't been very long, not to an exotic or extremely fancy location and there had only been one person for company, but it was Matias. His best buddy, sounding board, closest mate. The time in the outdoors with him had been needed and bonding, bring them closer together and helping Cass approach what waited for him at home with more clarity and peace of spirit. Things had been better than they had in the past two weeks the night before he left, her warm sleeping form and quiet breaths the lullaby that had given him his best nights sleep since the last time she'd spent the night on Sunday. He still didn't want to budge, at least not entirely, but he was prepared to give Amy as much leeway as she needed. All the blonde w anted to do was have the subject broached, that was all. All he wanted was his girl, and a future with her. A desire that was never as simple as it seemed.

Disembarking with Matias, their easy camaraderie manifested in little jokes they tossed at each other as they walked through the terminal, carry-on backpacks slung on their shoulders. They stayed together up until bag check when a solid bro hug signaled their impending parting, Harlow waiting for Matias in a slightly different area. Duffel bag slung across him, Cass ruffled a hand through his overly long hair, beard matching and displaying how long it had been since he'd shaved. Clear blues start searching through the waiting family the moment he gets through the doors, intent on looking for one person. The woman who held his entire heart, and who was unfortunately pretty short and hard to spot. That was, until he spotted a waving hand, her eyes and top of her head peeking out of the crowd. "Amelia!" Boomed his deep voice, it's deepness causing the people around Amy to shift, the man who'd spoken it absolutely beaming, hastening his steps.

Her name sounded over the heads of all the other people present at the arrivals gate, having spotted her petite frame, and a smile spilled across her lips. It hadn't been too long since she last heard it, hadn't been too many times that he called her by her nickname, but every time it happened it was a cut on her heart. For someone who detested the idea of being called as a person they no longer were, Amy had quickly grown used to the syllables of her full name rolling over his tongue in that deep, booming bass. The pace of her step quickened as she gained direction, and it was with her name still echoing through her mind that they finally stood in front of each other. Cass's thick head of hair a little messier than usual, his beard unruly; but the beaming smile on his lips was made all the more prominent with the kisses sun had left on his skin. Unable to control herself, Amy reached up and brushed her fingers against his cheek, hazel eyes tracing the movement her fingers made. "I've missed you," came the simple confession as she looked back up at him, arms coming to loop around his neck in a tight embrace.

The moments between getting in front of each other once more, her fingers touching gently on his grizzled cheek, and her arms wrapping round him are thankfully few, and for the first time in over 72 hours Cass got to touch his girl again. Her hair, sunny touched and longer than it had been at their remeeting so long ago, brushing her shoulders, is what his face gets buried into. The familiar aroma of her hair products joins the warm comfort of her in his arms and whatever was jittery inside him settled. The longer he was away from her, the more unsettled he got, he supposed. "I've missed you too, baby. So much." The blonde pulls back enough to rub his cheek along hers, pressing his lips to the apple of it. "Hope it's okay I'm a bit scratchy." The light tan he also acquired hides beneath the jacket Wilmingtons weather forced him to don upon their return, but that could wait for later. "Thanks for coming to pick me up."

There was still some hesitation between them as they hugged and he touched her cheek, pressing his mouth to the fullness of it. Any other day and Amy knew that it would be impossible to break a kiss between their lips. Even so, with all that in mind, having him close to her, the familiar scent of his skin and clothes, although buried deep underneath the scents of nature and wilderness, had been enough to ease her worried mind. Whatever was going on, she reminded herself, they would pull through it. A smile stretched her lips wide as she nuzzled her cheek against his in response. "Everything's okay as long as you're not going anywhere else any time soon." To think there was a time mere six months ago when she felt as though she had to─ that she could─ live without him, it would have made her laugh now. "It's my pleasure. Shall we get you home?"

He'd always known he was the affectionate sort in relationships. Romantic - a brush of lips against her hands, an arm around her waist, a touch at the wrist, and platonic - an arm thrown around the shoulder, hugs, secret handshakes, high fives. It was just a part and parcel of how Cass threw himself into everything, body and soul. "The only place I'm going is home with you, baby. Your place or mine, I don't care. As long as you're there too." A chuckle, and he pulls back, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple while they walk, heading out of the terminal. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

Catching Cass up on all that he missed in the few days of his absence─ not that it was long or there had been many things to tell him about─ proved to be enough of a distraction for the ride to his place. It had been on pure instinct that she took the right highway exits that brought her closer to his Murrayville home than her downtown place, but a part of her had to admit that when she thought of home, that was the place she imagined. Not the apartment to which she moved in recent months, although it had been absolutely hers and just the right move. But it still didn't feel like home. The white walls didn't breathe the comfort of a place to which she would always want to go back, not in the way Cass's place did. Then again, it might have had to do with the person who lived there more so than the place itself. And a good night's rest was mandatory after the few he's had sleeping under the stars, which he wouldn't be getting on her mattress again. He would have more likely spent the night putting the bed frame together, in all honesty.

Pulling up into his driveway, beside his forest green truck, Amy turned the ignition off and unlocked the door to let out Hudson, bouncing on his paws to greet his owner as Cass grabbed the duffel bags from the back of her car. "I think he's missed you, too. He puts my welcome to shame," Amy commented with a loving chuckle as Hudson stood on his hind legs and jumped on Cass in joyful delirium.

Three days hadn't made much happen at home, it seemed, but as the familiar territory sped past the windows and he gazed at her, it felt like a much longer amount of time. Since they'd gotten together, officially, for real, he couldn't be blamed if it that and Hudson had cultured a feeling of home to him. Of course when Cass was away for his thankfully not too frequent business trips he missed Wilmington, his home, his dog, and the family of friends he had found, but Amy had skyrocketed to the top of that list. How could she have not? Amy, who let him call her Amelia and had the most magical laugh in the world. Amy, whose pocket his hand belonged in and whose company he wanted always. Amy, that Cass wanted to come home to for the rest of his life. The smile that he wore for some of that trip was warm, to say the least, happy to be back with his girlfriend. Even if in a lot of ways, like Matias he too was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Hudson! What a good boy, aren't you? I missed you too, buddy." Warm words tumble out in his deep burr as he sweet talks his dog, arms unfortunately busy. "I don't know about that. He doesn't smell half as good as you, baby." The proper reunion occurs once they're inside and Cass gets to drop is bags in the foyer, taking a knee to scratch Hudson all over. The golden shepherd mix gave happy barks the whole time, tan and dark brown body wriggling all over in excitement, nonsense falling from his mouth as the blonde man baby talked his furry son. After giving Hud some attention, he finally stood up, one hand massaging at his shoulders, a bit sore from the flight and jetlag. Cass takes a seat on the back of the couch, scratching for a moment at the bottom of his beard with navy blues trained on her. Their agreement to talk when he returned had come to fruition, and he wasn't certain of what to expect. Or if he even wanted to be the one to broach it. Making up his mind, he held a hand out to Amy, a small smile tugging at his full lips. "C'mere, my Amelia."

"Well, at least I have that on him," Amy joked with a playful roll of her eyes as she set the house keys down and made herself at home. It didn't seem like Cass and Hudson would be finished greeting each other any time soon, not with the string of lovable nonsense falling from Cass's mouth, or the tongue lapping out of Hudson's mouth in utter bliss as his owner's fingers scratched behind his ears. She went ahead into the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea. Turning the heat down, she came out of the kitchen and into the living room where Cass was, right in time to see him rubbing at his shoulders. Making a mental note of that, she slipped her palm into his extended hand, and came close to him, free hand scratching at his beard. "Hi," she said softly, resting her forehead against his. The weight of the conversation they needed to have lay on her chest, but she cherished the moment, the closeness and warmth of his breath on her skin. "I'm making us tea. Do you want to shower first, or?" Or do you want to jump right into the big conversation about our future that I know you're dying to have?

The moment that passes after she offers him the choice seems to stretch into forever, staring into her eyes. There's hesitation in the multishades of brown, gold, and green that shine in Amy's eyes, hesitation and anxiousness and yet an impatience that Cass would be lying if he said that some part of him didn't share. It was strange, to be on the other side of it, to know your partner wanted to talk about something and you weren't sure it was something you wanted to dive straight into, and Cass didn't like it. He tightens his grip on her fingers and turns lips into her hand, kissing her palm, words leaping from his mouth. "Just a brief shower, if that's okay. Haven't been able to use running water in way too long. And I'd love some tea." Coward. An expletive Cass only growled inwardly at himself, that he didn't let show when he stands and rubs at the back of his neck once more. "I'll be quick." The tall man promises, kissing her briefly but softly before he makes his way to his bedroom, holding onto her hand until the last minute. Cass darts a glance back over his shoulder at her before he enters the hall, paired with a slight upturning of his lips that doesn't match the cheek he's chewing on, before he disappears.

It's the most mentally chaotic shower he's had in a while, suds running down his muscular form, lathering his hair and beard as Cass's heart thumps so hard he can feel it all over his body. There is no calm to be found in the luxurious room fitted out just for that, and it's a crying shame. Thoughts about what she would say, if she kept going down the path Cass had stopped her from before leaving, swirled round and round in his head, a cacophony of doubts that keeps him quiet under the fall of water. Even as he finishes, dries his face and body with his fluffy towel, drags on black briefs and matching joggers, it doesn't occur to him that Amy could ever go down the road he so desperately wants. Not after all the times she'd reinforced the fact it would be something she couldn't give him. A t-shirt that was once white but that's enduring enough washings that the butter soft fabric has turned grey is the last thing he pulls on, all the while mentally shoring himself up for their talk.

It must have been a first in their relationship, that Amy wanted to do something, to dive into a moment that would push their relationship from the standstill they were at now, and Cass wasn't eagerly awaiting her there. He had always been the one to instigate change and progress, and she the one to reluctantly follow behind. How strange it was that she held the key to move them further, and he was hesitant to even try the door. Was this what it felt like for him all these times? Unlike Cass who would push for what he wanted, Amy let him come to her when he was ready. They were both aware of the elephant in the room, staring at them, waiting to be acknowledged, but she would not be the one to force anything on him if he wasn't ready for it. As he went to the bathroom to get himself ready, Amy returned to the kitchen in time to take the kettle off the stove and pour the hot water over two bags of tea she had already prepared in each of their matching mugs. Christmas felt a lifetime ago, she realized as she turned the ceramics in her hands, waiting for the quiet of the shower to ensue. It was brief by no means, but Amy figured he had things to think through, as well as a task to complete. Eventually, when she tired of waiting, she took the mugs with her into the bedroom, just as he leaves the bathroom clad in his comfortable, stay at home clothes. "Tea's cool enough to drink," she said, placing it on the nightstand and taking a seat on the bed, the side on which she usually slept when she was over. She patted the mattress beside her, and reached into the drawer for a body lotion she kept there. "Come here. I'll get at those knots in your shoulders that are bothering you."

There is no better present to see waiting on your bed than Amy Taylor, bonus points if she's got tea, and it makes a soft smile curve on Cass's face. Much in the vein of wanting to come home to her, always, is the ability to see her simply around his place. The way it had been more like before she had a real place of her own. Humming in the kitchen, sleeping on his bed, her shoes near his front door and her smile something he could be gifted with around any corner. "You don't have to do that, baby. Though I won't say no." Cass rushes to assure her, because Amy's got some sort of magic in her palms whenever she sets about making sure his back feels better. He sits easily next to her on the bed, but catches her hand before she gets the lotion. "Wait. Before you work on the knots with your hands, let's talk first. It will help a lot with the stress, I promise you. Half your work done before you even have to lay a hand on me." The crooked grin disappears briefly when he collects her other hand and presses both to his mouth, tugging on them a bit so she comes closer. "So."

There were very few things Amy felt she had to do, especially with Cass, but this was never one of them. She took just as much pleasure in removing the tension from his shoulders as he did in rolling them without the stress weighing on them. And to know that something she did actually helped make him feel better, as opposed to the alternative, was always a feeling she wanted to bask in. "You know I want to," she promised, but before she had a chance to go about her mission, her hands were clasped in his bigger palms, and she looked up curiously from the hold he had on her, to the look swirling in his oceanic blues. In an instant, her heart went from its idle, paced beat, to a furious gallop, even though she knew this was coming. Scooting closer to him, one leg folded underneath her on the bed, she faced him better and trapped her lower lip between her teeth. "So," came the echo, uncertainty lacing her voice. How do you start something you knew you had to do but weren't sure you were quite ready to do just yet? "I guess we need to talk, huh? About... everything."

He waits for her to come closer with patience he hadn't seen to have had in any other point in their relationship, the safety of their surroundings working overtime to try and calm them both. Cass wasn't a fan of this feeling, anxiousness with the one person who calmed him more than anything in the world, and he looks forward even more to the relief that will come after they talk. No matter what compromise the two of them come to, he has to believe it's in their future. One hand drops from their palms to fall on her thigh, and when he squeezes it is isn't from a standpoint of desire but of comfort. That they could get through this, and it was going to be okay. "Yeah. We do. Amelia, if I'm pushing too far just say the word, because I never want to make you feel that way. Or afraid of me, ever. But...are you open to have a conversation about it?" Cass is still afraid to say the word kids to Amy, unsure if it was a good move, but he keeps the assurance in his hand on her leg, blue eyes steady on her hazel.

Blueberries, the word flitted through her mind, an allusion to the safe word they’ve had on an occasion so far removed from where they were right now. An occasion that was framed in so much trust that was present now, too, but overshadowed with many of the worries that have infected the past couple of weeks. His words came as a reminder of the current that still lay underneath it all, strong and undeniable, and a small smile flirted with the corners of her lips as she lay a hand on top of his that held her thigh. “Blueberries,” she voiced the sentiment. Tension still gripped her shoulders tightly, but diminished somewhat as the topic was finally broached. The suspense of ‘we need to talk’ finally weakening its hold on her twisted insides. Instead, a flutter of winged things, bats or butterflies she wasn’t sure, took flight through the liberated parts. “I know. And I wish I could react in a way that’s different from shutting you down entirely when I panic. But... yes, I think I can talk about it now.” Now that I’ve had weeks to consider it, and a taste of a life without you in it as much as I’d like.

A callback to the night they'd spent after the winter gala, silk whispering against her skin and cries that he could still call to mind at a moments notice. Though they had still been at the stage wherein she hadn't said those eight letters to them, she'd shown him that night that her trust in him was something that couldn't be denied. Before Amy could tell him how she felt about him romantically, she'd told him that, a confession that tasted of the sea she'd so loved and followed with their first but far from last evening beach walk. Cass doesn't directly respond to it, more with a warm smile, her hand atop his anchoring them both. He gets a handle on the relief, knowing they were only halfway to the finish line. the hardest part was next. "Okay. That's step one. Step two is, you know I want kids. And you know I want you. Can I entertain the idea the idea that two can be had together? I'm not saying now. I'm saying at some point, maybe, before the clock runs out on our biology, could you see us having kids?"

Even if he hadn't told her as much when they were just getting to know each other, Amy would have no doubts about the future Cass wanted for himself. He was a family man, and that was clear in the way he carried himself, in the decisions he made, and the way he treated the people around him, especially his close friends and employees. Amy might have been that way once upon a time, something buried deep in her psyche that was only now blooming after the fifteen years long winter of her life, but she was still miles away from where Cass was, even if she was doing her mighty best to play catch up. A year ago, if asked, Amy would have shaken her head no at the idea of bringing children into the world. Some six months ago she discouraged it to the man sitting next to her now. But that night? Two weeks after she had screamed a firm, unmoving no, second thoughts have shaken up her core beliefs. "I know that," she nodded her head, her fingers slipping between his, her gaze glued to the movement. "Before I answer that, before I fully entertain the idea of that future, which I'm not saying I haven't thought of, but..." She trailed off, losing sight of the point she wanted to make. She drew in a breath, finding once more the course of her thoughts. "I know you felt as if in my fears I've excluded you from the life we'd have with these kids we'd hypothetically have, but Cass... I don't know if you can be as good a father as I can be a bad mother. And I don't know how to put that on the kids we'd have someday. Hypothetically."

It seemed he had had this conversation with everyone important to him but her. Of course, that was probably directly related to their argument about it and sought out advice, but it was still odd. As his girlfriend, and the closest person to him bar none, Cass told Amy everything first (with the exception of things he knew would freak her out). Their fingers lace together in the pause after his words, and he uses it as his own anchor, a support for the two of them through what wasn't a light subject. The fact that she'd at least thought about it, that it had occurred to her enough to have a feeling about it, was something he clung to with hope. Hope that morphed into incredulous frustration when Amy reiterates her belief that she wouldn't be a good mother. An idea that flabbergasted him on every level, and had him shaking his head immediately afterwards. "Amelia. Please listen to me. There isn't a universe in existence where you'd be a bad mother. You have so much love, love that you'd given me, your family, your friends. You take care of me when I need it, you're strong when I can't be, you don't compromise your beliefs but that doesn't mean you shut others out. You have all the ingredients a person would ever need to be a good mom." There is belief in every single one of his words, conviction that goes to his core, and it communicates in his voice and earnest gaze. Cass squeezes their conjoined hands, one hand coming up to cup Amy's cheek. "Hypothetically, as you said, I'm terrified that I could share any of my dads attributes if I get gifted with a child in the future. At the same time, I know that its that fear that will help keep me on the path of the kind of father I want to be. You know...metaphorically." He ends with a slight smile.

Amy heard him and indulged his request. She listened as he spoke, heard the iron-clad conviction and belief behind every word of assurance he told her, and the faith he had in her sparked some dead part of her heart. Minute and irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but a part of her nonetheless. The voices and worms of doubt still gnawed at her, impossible to silence even when his words rang so loudly in the small space between them, and Amy squeezed his hand, but her head shook from side to side. "I... That's all when I'm clean and I'm sober. What happens i-when I fall off the wagon? When my need for a fix becomes greater than anything else? What happens if I pass on my weaknesses to an undeserving child?" The certainty with which she proclaimed such turn of events would have been chilling to someone else, but Amy had been on the path of recovery a number of times before and not once did it stick. Not even when it seemed liked it had. So why should this time be any different when she was no stronger resisting her urges now than she had been before? She was just... lucky so far. Wasn't she? The hand on her cheek forced her to look up and meet his gaze, the warmth in his blue eyes a surprise in the cool of its oceanic allusions. "You're never gonna be anything like your father. No matter what happens or where you end up, that's the one thing that's never going to change."

This was his girl. Big hearted and second chancing it and hard headed with the best of them. Amy's lack of belief in herself and what she was deserving of, was capable of, baffled him still. Cass didn't know where she'd gotten it from, where along the line she'd stopped putting faith in herself, but he'd push against that train as much as he could for her, whenever she'd let him. Her head shake is expected, if unhappily so, and more of Amy's fears make it to light. Painting a picture of a future that Cass was utterly convinced would not happen. It might not have been as many months as it could've been between them, but their bond was forged tightly. He knew her. And Cass believed in her, whenever Amy wouldn't. Dropped eyes are made to meet his, unsurety seen in them, that pretty mouth telling him that in no reality would his greatest fear take place. "Thank you believing in me like that. Let me do that for you too. Baby..." Cass moves his hand to her chin to capture it and tilt her mouth towards his own so he can lay one kiss on her. Okay, maybe two. Sue him if Amy's taste wasn't something he'd ever stop craving. It's after those that he gets control of himself and pulls back a bit, faces still close as Cass gazed into her eyes.

"There is no when you fall of the wagon, baby. There's barely an if. If you ever start to feel like that again, you've got a support system to help you fight through it. You have me, your family, your therapist, all your friends that love you. I'm confident you'd conquer it." He taps her chin for a second with his thumb before he removed his hand from her face entirely, twining back with hers. "There's no other partner that I've wanted kids with, ever. Cross my heart, other than you." And Cass was telling the truth. Even when he felt his deepest love for Kiera he'd ignored any of the fatherly longings that were full fledged now, never picturing offspring. Amy was the only one he'd thought of in that way. "Tell me this. Would you want kids with me as the father? I understand the hesitancy there. They might come out wearing Stetsons and converses and twice as hardheaded as me." It was another of the important questions Cass had wanted to ask, half sure of the answer but wanting it all the same. Wrapped in a joke, it highlighted one of the man's most premiere personality traits, his striving to lighten moments with a bit of a smile.

Amy was one of the many people who tended to see the best in others, to believe in them even in the darkest times, and she was willing to hand out as many second chances as necessary, so long as they proved they wanted to change whatever the issue had been. Ironically so, however, she was so generous giving those out that she had none left for herself. She was her own hardest critic, greatest adversary, the one who nagged at herself about all her flaws and all her mistakes. The voice could sometimes be drowned by the people in her life telling her otherwise, but that was not always the case. There hadn't always been people around to do that for her─ by her own design. Cass had picked up the mantle of her advocate, fighting tooth and nail against these convictions she's kept of herself for the past fifteen years, but no matter how booming his deep timbre, still waters do run deep and it wasn't always enough.

She leaned into his touch, into the pressure of his lips on her own. Lids slid over her eyes like shutters, and stayed that way as he began talking again. She loved him, she appreciated everything he did for her, but this was not something he knew firsthand. "You don't know any of that. It's a constant battle. Some days it's easier to fight, other days it feels impossible. And you're not always going to be around. What if it happens when I'm pregnant?" A chill went down her spine, spreading through her bloodstream. She would ruin the child before she ever gave it a fighting chance, more so than just making them susceptible to addictions. The admission she came higher than Kiera in his ideas and plans for the future warmed her heart, but she couldn't tell him the same, he knew that much wasn't the truth. She hadn't thought about kids in detail when she was mere seventeen years old, but she knew there would come a time when Brooks and her would have them. Well, would have come if he hadn't died. And that was when she changed her mind about the idea of them. If she couldn't have his children, she'd have nobody's. Children, love, happiness. Life. Those were all things she renounced with his death, but had slowly been reclaiming with Cass. Were children the next step in the right direction? Or were they a roadblock to happiness? A scoff pushed through her nostrils, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "As long as they don't come out humming Kenny Chesney, I'm okay with the Stetsons and converses," she teased right back, fingers curling around his own.

Hazel eyes met the oceanic ones once more, letting the silence settle around them before she answered. "I wouldn't want anyone else to be the father of my children. That's not what I'm hesitant about, because I know those would be the luckiest, happiest kids in the world having you as their dad. And I'd be the luckiest, happiest woman having you bring them up with me in whatever capacity the future brings." Though she certainly hoped that a future scenario of that sort meant they were bonded for life with more than just promises made to each other, but that might be a conversation for another night. "Please don't take that as me doubting us─ I'm only ever doubting myself."

Amy wasn't wrong. The closest thing Cass had to compare to the poisonous love song of pills were the years he spent shamefully addicted to the power started to feel standing over another as the victor with their blood on your hands, one of the most Earth shattering signs to him that he needed to escape the lifestyle. He was under no sort of impression that the things could compare, the same Amy would never truly get the complications of his relationship with C.K. and how low it had (less so, recently) brought him over the years. He nuzzles her when she voices her quiet fears, the vulnerability in them pressing on his ribs cage. Why couldn't his girl put faith in herself? She was stronger than she knew. "No, I might not be around 24/7, but you are more than capable of taking care of it by yourself. Baby," he keeps her chin in his hand, trying to help the closeness communicate his earnestness, Cass's unshakeable belief in her that he was trying to share. "When you're pregnant, you'll have cravings and swollen feet and a round tummy with our baby in it. Your mama bear, which, don't tell me you don't have because I've seen it several times, will kick in, I'm sure of it. You'll know what to do. What you have in here," and it's there that Cass let's go of her chin, pressing his palm above her heart. "Is more than capable of being an amazing mother. Kenny Chesney? If anything it'll be Johnny Cash. Gotta teach em the classics." The boyish grin comes out hesitantly to play, mercury quick, and in the back of his head Cass dazedly can't believe they're here. Actually joking about hypothetical kids. An impossibility not three weeks ago.

The sheer knowledge that Amy thought of him so highly, would only want him to be the father of her kids, mixed with the smug and happy feeling in his heart the moment it left Amys lips. Take that Cass thinks proudly at not particular person, insanely pleased with the fact. Perhaps a ridiculous sentiment, and their relationship status sort of dictated such a thing, but each thing he got from her was a victory in the eldest Kingston book. That alone makes him want to interrupt her with a kiss, the only thing stopping Cass being the words that continued to spill from her mouth. "There is no possible way you could be happier than me. I know you doubt yourself, but baby you don't see yourself the way I see you. Do you know who I'm dating? Who I'm love with?" Cass's last two questions are more like crooned demands placing both hands on her thighs to tug her forward so she's in his lap instead. The contact, he'd decided, was needed. Each thing he said following was punctuated with tiny kisses. "I'm dating Amelia Taylor. The smartest," Kiss to the forehead. "Most kind-hearted," One to her cheek. "Sexiest," one to her mouth, a little longer. "Strongest." To her jaw. "Jaw dropping gorgeous, endearingly flawed, owner of the cutest smile in the world. I know. That if she gave it a shot, at some point, Amelia Taylor would be a great mother to boot." And wife. And life partner. Things that to him were understood, to her not so.

When you're pregnant. The hypothetic scenario hadn't lasted very long, but Amy found herself somewhat at peace with the word choice. Sure, there was a part of her that roared in protest, slammed a metaphorical hand against the metaphorical table and argued they had not reached the when point. They were still at the if station, a fork in the road that could lead down two very different paths. But over the weeks that they had spent in quiet, simmering anger and disappointment, Amy had opened the door to the idea and realized it wouldn't be as bad as she thought. How was having children with another man any greater a betrayal than loving that man in the first place? And if she no longer saw it as that, if she came to understand Brooks would want this happiness for her, it followed the same thread of logic to believe he'd want her to have children, too. That issue was resolved soon enough, but the other, far greater monster still lingered, no longer obscured by shadows, baring its sharp teeth dripping with poison. Could she ever be a good enough mother? Could she ever do those innocent beings right by giving them birth into the mess of her life, involving them inextricably with all her flaws and mistakes? Her gaze dropped to his hand resting in the middle of her chest, right above the heart, and she worried her lower lip between her teeth. "I hope you're right," she said unconvincingly, not quite believing it all to the same level Cass did. After all, he didn't get to live inside her head every day of every year of her entire life─ an exhausting, hellish place if there ever was one. "I can let Johnny Cash slide."

Cass pulled her into his lap, her legs on each side of him as he forced her to face him, for once nothing sexual about their proximity and position. Idle hands lay in her lap, between their bodies, and Amy listened to the list of ways Cass saw her in. Superlatives and compliments raining down upon her head bowed in modesty. No, she didn't see herself the way he did. She probably never would─ and for that matter, no one else would, either. Arguments and contradictions to everything he told her burned on her tongue, white hot and heavy, and it was with all the power of will in her being that she reined them. He showered her in kisses, along with the compliments, and after the second one, Amy held her eyes closed and tried to listen to him, to hear what he was saying. To see the picture he was painting. But all that took shape behind her eyelids looked nothing like the reflection that stared at her from the mirror. "I don't buy all that for a second," she shook her head, laying her dainty fingers against the thick cover of his beard, foreheads pressed together. "But I love that you see me that way and I hope to God I'm wrong and you're right. For once I'd be okay with that."

He was at a loss for once, but the frustration that filled all over six inches of him was not new to him. As someone who was always the first to put himself between those he loved and anything that hurt him, it chafed at him that he couldn't protect Amy from her harshest critic - herself. Of course it was an impossibility, he could no longer keep the voices in her head from whispering lies than she could keep him from the insecurities he felt to his core as well, but Cass couldn't help wanting to do it. Couldn't help wanting to fill her life with as much happiness as he could. "Good." Having her in his lap felt right, the same way it did each time, even when Cass knew his words weren't reaching her. He wished that by pressing her forehead into his he could communicate it to her, convince her of it too, but that was a dream. One that he hoped to acheive one day, if not today. "I know I'm right, even if you don't. I'm glad you're okay with it. Because one day you're going to believe it too." He turns his head to press his lips to her hand, the touch of it on his beard intimately familiar to him. "At the end of the day..." Royal blues seek out hers, pulling back for a moment so that the muscular man could fully watch her face, for once calm. "Do you want kids with me?"

Want. An entirely different world to being open to the idea of kids, which was where they had started. But to want kids with Cass meant she wanted kids on her own, too, as this wasn’t something she could in good conscience just do for him. And did she? That was the tricky part. His whiskered mouth scratch against her hand as he lay a kiss to it, and when he looked into her eyes, searching for an answer, she bit down on her lip in thought. What should have been a resounding yes to any other girl was a hesitant maybe to Amy and she didn’t know how to say it without breaking his heart. “I can’t say anything about wanting them, but... with you by my side it’s... not out of the question.” Would that suffice?

It wasn't a no. At the end of the day, thats what he grasped onto, the hope that all was maybe not lost. That she understood that their bodies had a ticking time clock, that their deadline was coming up sooner than it was later, and Cass wanted a kid. One that he'd had a hand in making, that would grow in her. No one else. He knew that this was just the newest in his requests for things that Amy had buried with Brooks, locked her heart to it and thrown away the key long before he came back into the picture. Cass's nudging is what brought him here, his continued want to steal more of her possible future from the hands of a dead man, but he doesn't regret any of it. Look at what it had brought him, heartaches, and all? Time had taught him hesitancy, still knowing she could pull too far away for him to get to her, and under the calmness he's pulled taught as a bow. "Can I take that as not a no? As a, maybe we can reconsider it at another time?" Still not a yes, but it was something he could live with.

Perhaps it felt too soon to someone else to talk about children not even six months into a relationship, but that someone else wasn’t either of the people in said relationship. The turbulences they’ve gone through, all that they’ve overcome stood as a reminder of how committed they were to making it work, how much love there was between them that couldn’t be measured in the time past but the changes and growth willing to be made. And Amy had not changed her ways for just anyone. From the very beginning of their relationship, as far back as that first encounter by the fence, there had been a different energy about them, a giddy excitement no other man had given her. The kind she didn’t expect to feel ever again, and Cass had breathed fire back into her cold, dead heart. If she were to ever change her mind about what the future brought, those ultimate commitments and devotion that came with marriage and children, it would be for him. For Cass who loved her, flaws and all. Who fought for her when she pushed him so far away. Who had more understanding in his little finger than most people did in their entire bodies. That was who Amy could see fathering the children the future might bring someday, even if it wasn’t something she wrapped her mind around entirely. That would come, she imagined, aided by the feeling deep in her soul that Cass was the one— the one she would love, cherish, and care for for the rest of her life. That knowledge, however, she would keep safely tucked away in the hidden chambers of her heart for at least a little while longer. One step forward was all Amy could give him that night— especially when it was more a leap than a step.

Laying her hands on the sides of his face, the bearded cheeks and the chiseled jawline, Amy nodded her head and leaned in to kiss him. “It’s not a no. It’s a tentative yes to opening those doors again to more than the conversation. But if you let me, I would like to open it all up again when I feel ready. Is that okay?”

Two not a no's. Cass had already been luckier than he'd ever expected going into this conversation, her toned thighs on either side of him as he asked the impossible of her. He did it quite often, this giant golden cowboy and businessman who loved her, asking her for the stars. Pushing her beyond boundaries he was sure Amy had long since stopped thinking would even be touched by another, pressing against walls she'd had up for longer than they'd even known each other as teenagers and trying to get her to open her eyes to a future she buried with her boy so long ago. Now she cradled the face of her man, Cassidy, his lips pressing against hers as his arms held close the woman he wanted to have at his side, always. As far as he was concerned, Amelia Taylor was a necessary and required ingredient for a happy life, and it would always be the case. Even when she frustrated the hell outta him. When they were fighting or fucking or just freely with each other, enjoying simplest pleasure of each other's company. He wanted Amy. And Cass was getting as close to a yes as he was going to for now, though it was flirting with the proximity of it enough to bring him satisfaction for now. Besides - relationships we're compromises, right? "It's completely okay." He tells her after their kiss, keeping his growly tenor low as he presses his lips to her nose. "I'm content to pass you the baton on this one. Thank you for the tentative yes you were able to give." Cass gives her a pull and a twist and gets them further onto the bed, a knee pressing onto his comforter as he dips a whiskered chin and kisses her once more. "Seriously, baby. Thank you."

As he pulled her up higher against him and turned her around, Amy’s back fell against the mattress softly, with a slight bounce and a smile ghosting on her lips. The hardest of the conversation was over, she thought, their fight one that they had successfully resolved, even if it took them far longer than any other before. The days, weeks even, spent apart from him were not easy by any means. Every time she caught herself wishing to tell him something, she stopped and tucked her phone back into her pocket, wondering if they were there yet. With the conversation had, her allowances and promises given, Amy hoped that this would be it for a while, that their next torrent of worries and barbed words would be halted far away from them as they enjoyed each other and caught up on all they’ve missed. “No,” she shook her head against the comforter and reached up to scratch against his chin, trace the hard set of his jaws, the seam of his lips. “Thank you. For being patient and kind and loving me. Anyone else would have been out the door by now. I love you.”

Her fingertips touch his face with the care and affection that only a lover could give, the bushy face smiling down at her, framed a bit by warm light of his bedside lamps. This is what Cass always wanted, in the grand scheme of things, Amy in his home, in his bed, being the best thing in Cass's world and his favorite thing about leaving work to go see. For all their issues, the parts of their relationship that felt like 'red light green light's and when they stopped, he always had to look behind him to see where she stood, Cass loved her. Adored the way the liked to tease him and constantly poke the bear, searching for a reaction the deep well of kindness that sparkled in her hazel orbs and how firmly she took her stance on things, even if it frustrated the everlasting hell out of him. Loved the way she said his name and called him honey, the way she showed him how she felt with her lips even before she could express it and even now. He'd meant what he'd almost texted that night almost twenty four hours after her apartment had been left with shouting words and slamming doors, the words coming back to Cass as he nuzzled Amy on the bed, lacing their hands together. How could she think he could ever leave? Amy had too much of him. His heart, his soul, at the whim of her small hands and that dimpled smile. Who knew? "Anyone else isn't me. You are worth all of it, Amelia. I told you that back then, remember? Meant it then, meant it now. I love you too." My always for your forever. Rolling over, Cass likes on the bed next to her, hands still intertwined as his blue eyes raise to the wood ceiling, itching to bring something else up now that their biggest issue was now over. "Can I ask you something else? It's not above moving forward, it's actually about something that already happened."

Cass had told her that many times, and he would probably have to do it many more. The stubborn parts of her so obstinate and out of touch with reality that she could never quite come around to how Cass saw her, what he thought about her. A day might come when that image was less of a blurry outline, but for now his eyes would have to be the ones she used to tap her way through the dark. Her guiding force, the light she kept moving to. A smile stretched across her full lips, and her hand squeezed his more tightly as he lay on the bed beside her. The quiet of the aftermath settled around them, and Amy’s lids slid over the hazel of her eyes giving her a short lived moment of peace. Cass’s voice had her peering through one eye, then looking at him, alert and present in the moment. She shifted a little on the bed, cuddled into his open arms, and looked up to his face. “What is it?”

Even with the burning question dancing on the tip of his tongue, for a moment Cass is lost in the fantasy that her allowance gave permission to grow in his head. He had not so long since decided she was going to be the one for him; why would Cass look for anyone else when she was standing there in front of him? Dimpling, kissing, holding his hand on taking on the world with him. Amy made him feel lighter in a way he hadn't felt in untold years, and he was rock solid confident she would always inspire that in him. He looked forward to years they were going to spend together, and they were going to be years. Her permission to bring up kids at some point was the last green light Cass needed to start picturing their future together, one including an aisle and her walking down it. She settles into his side naturally, a comfort of behavior the two of them fell into awfully fast, and his left hand slipping under her shirt to stroke her tummy, his right drawing rough skinned fingers through her hair from the root, rhythmic and steady. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder what you were thinking that first night I said I love you. And...it's dumb, of course, but some part of me feels like whenever you say it, it's just because you're afraid to lose me." And not because you actually feel that way. Not fully.

In light of everything that had happened, all the turmoil they had been through, the tensions that had clouded their times together, Amy thought it was finally time to breathe easy as she snuggled into his embrace, her single most favorite place in the entire world. The warmth of his body so close to hers, the comfort his fingertips inspired as they danced through her hair and ghosted over her skin, it all worked towards easing the stress their relationship had endured over the course of the past few weeks. But it was a tentative, fragile kind of comfort that shattered like glass the moment the words rolled off his tongue. Incapable of keeping herself in spot, Amy was jolted upright into a sitting position, looking down at the man she loved, the man she had given every bit of her heart that she could at every possible turn, and listened to him question her love for him. "Cass," the whisper came full of disbelief, even hurt lingering there somewhere. After all this, was he really questioning her? "I was thinking about how I wished I could say it, because I've felt it, I've known it, but they're not words I throw around lightly. I couldn't say it back then, and I know it took me a while to get there, but I've only ever said that to Brooks before, no one else. It wasn't because I didn't feel it, it was because I needed time for my heart and my mind to get on the same page." It was as much an explanation for Cass as it was a defense of herself, shaking her head at the unspoken, underlying statement of it all.

"That's not it. I am afraid to lose you, but I don't use that as a bargaining chip. I'll love you whether you're mine or not, it's not something I can change, but I don't mean to tie you to myself by saying it. I only mean to tell you how much I care about you when I say it, how much of my heart you have and it's all of it, Cass." She took his hand, the great, rough palm, and splayed it on her chest where her heart beat steadily despite the tension that coiled her insides like a snake. "I love you with every beat of it, even when I don't say it, whether I'm afraid or not."

Through some miracle, his heart stays in the cage of his ribs even as the question leaves his lips. Though Cass means what he says, that niggling doubt that wouldn't leave his mind during his weakest moments, when his fathers words permeated what he knew was true and planted doubts he'd always just managed to dispel. Somewhere in his core, the thirty two year old man knew that Amy's devotion and commitment to him was no small feat. His girl had been traumatized, irrecoverably changed by losing the love she wanted to spend the rest of her days with. He believed her when she told him she'd never been with a man longer than a night after Brooks, could tell by the stubborn ways her walls refused to come down, the terror that still lived there. Cass had seen it that night she'd flung herself bodily in his soot covered arms, her first confession of love a torrent of emotion from what he'd believed to be a terrified place. The hurt in Amy's eyes and tone is the first reaction he registers, and it makes him push himself up onto muscular forearms, still reclined, blue eyes unsure if they should stay vulnerable or go guarded. "You did?" They're a lighter rumble than he was expecting to come from himself, and he hates the tone of it. Wishes it didn't betray his emotions so often.

And then, as blue and hazel meet and Amy keeps talking, he can't stop the wonder that crosses his face. Yes, it still killed him the smallest bit that she was afraid to lose him, to whatever cruel twist of fate might snatch him from her arms (he'd already told her she had too much of him he was never letting her go if he could help it - ), but what she said afterward? Felled him. Quietly and without much fanfare, but just cemented even more Cass's adoration of her. He never though another person would care about him to that depth, much less Amy. Amelia who had her loss tattooed on her body and her soul with loyalty twined within it, whose personal ghost she'd shackled herself to. Amelia, who'd made so much progress since them. Amelia, who called him her boyfriend, who took care of their dog and supported him, championed him in a way no one else ever truly had. Who made him feel like he wasn't just a good man, but a great one, the kind that she made Cass want to be. Who, on his bed, in this home he'd built with his hands that was only complete with Amy in it, confessed to him that her love was not an occasional thing. It was an always thing, spoken with enough conviction that Cass, in that moment, truly believed her, heavy palms absorbing the beats of her heart into himself. "Amelia. You're not going to lose me. You're never going to lose me. I'm never going to lose you." Genuine distress constricts his heart, that thing in his chest that beat for her only, and he expresses it with a hard, impassioned kiss, one hand at the back of her head. I'll love you whether you're mine or not. "You know that I feel the same way too, right? All of me that I have is in love with you. There isn't one part of it that doesn't want you forever."

It was a question that followed her confession, and Amy's chest tightened, shrunk in on itself. Had she done such a bad job at being his girlfriend, at showing him just how much she loved him, simply because she hadn't said it as much or as soon as he did? In her eyes it did nothing to diminish the expanse of her affection, but perhaps Cass saw it in different ways, the scars he carried from his family and his childhood marring him even now. Always, probably. Thinking about it, the jigsaw pieces falling into place, it dawned on her that what she thought was a given implicitly, he needed to have spelled out otherwise he wouldn't believe it. Courtesy of the emotionally and verbally abusive father that C.K. had been to his only son. Whatever hurt she may have felt for having her ardor questioned, it subsided, sizzled out as it occurred to her that it might not have been about her after all. "Honey," she whispered, reaching over to run her fingers along his cheek, tender and caring. "I've been in love with you longer than either of us has known. I have a feeling I always will be," she admitted, a fleeting smile curving her lips as she said it out loud for the first time, both to him and herself. Cass sat upright and planted a kiss to her lips, searing and full of promise that, coupled with what he said, quietened the rational parts of her heart. These were the promises he couldn't keep hard as he might try, promises she knew neither of them had any control over, but she did not want to question him, not even for a single moment. Instead, for maybe the third time in her life, she threw all caution to the wind and nodded her head. She would believe him, that night if no other, that he would always be by her side. Hers to call. Her gentle fingers cradled the side of his face in her small palm, and her eyes closed over, the scent of him all she ever wanted to breathe in, his warmth the only sun she'd ever need. "I know. I've never doubted you for a single moment. And I hope you'll doubt me less from now on."

#para: all the way in #para #para: amy #self para #BABIES #SOBBING #also this canonically happened like a month ago holy shit #tw: pregnancy mention #in a general not solid way but whatever

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rykerelias-archive · 6 years ago

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TRANSFERRED FILE. || @magicandsciencemuses Jessica & Elias. VERSE: ac. ( organic damage. ) 007. THREAD: your chariot awaits.

❝ don’t know, don’t care. ❞

“Mmkay,” the detective replied, a sigh escaping, one hand rubbing at the back of his closely cropped head – he STILL hadn’t got used to the idea that he could grow it out if he wanted. “I realize you’re, uh,” a vaguely awkward clearing of his throat. “Pretty wasted, ma’am.” Diplomacy wasn’t his strength, what. “But if you can’t give me an option of where to take you other than the drunk tank, you’re going to the drunk tank so – do us both a favor, save me some paperwork and try and remember where you’re staying. PLEASE.”

Jessica snorted. Since when was she a fucking MA’AM?MA’AM was for Meth bitches like Trish’s mother, a woman who’d long since ditched her humanity for celebrity. “I’ve… I’ve got a card. Address.” At least she hoped she did, although maybe a night in the slammer breaking the jaws of every dickhead who tried to feel her up would help her vent for a change. Fishing in the pockets of her leather jacket – which, she realized after nearly a minute, was inside-out, dammit – she finally finds her wallet and ID. “Work out of my apartment. Just moved.” Which explained why she wouldn’t have been able to give directions even if she’d been sober.

It was an ADJUSTMENT, going from CTAC Marine Corps to Bay City Police Department detective. For starters, the LEEWAY seemed extraordinary, but, if anything cinched the distinction, it was the fact that he could smirk and NOT risk getting his lights punched out. MAYBE. He tried to hide it anyway, contemplating whether or not he should try and help her dig through her pockets, but the last thing he needed was her taking something the wrong way. “Right,” he replied, scanning the ident card and the shimmering holo card that reaffirmed her name along with company name and, what he assumed was the newest address. “Can I, uh –” Another hrmph, a clearing of his throat. “Offer you a ride home, Ms. Jones?” He didn’t really want to try and take her in. She wasn’t really causing that much trouble, just loitering where someone had been annoyed enough to bother to call it in.

Maybe if Jessica hadn’t been a little bleary-eyed from the copious alcohol she’d imbibed – MUCH more than it should take a woman her size to get drunk – she would have been pissed off by the detective’s smirk. “Sure, why the fuck not.” Given her profession as a P.I. and her tendency for organic damage when occasional perps found out about her tailing them, the police might as well know how to get to her new digs. “Ms. Jones is my dead mother. It’s Jessica.” Sober-her would have put a lot more vitriol into her words, but as it was, they were barely more than grumbles. All she wanted was a shower and to curl up with another bottle of Jack.

“Fabulous, it’s a date –” A sweeping gesture of his hand indicated the road where his car hovered; generic issue, unmarked cop car, nothing exciting, but it got from point a to point b fast as anything, and it was decidedly a step up from his personal … vehicle, if it could be called that. The faintest twitch at her offhanded comment about her mother, but it seemed she was too far gone to notice, at least. “Jessica,” he finished, one hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to coax her in the direction of the car, the other hand lurching out to pull open the passengers seat to let her slide or droop or collapse her way in. He just hoped she appreciated not being put in the back seat behind the divider enough to not upchuck all over the upholstery. “Detective Ryker, by the way. Elias. Or Ryker, or Detective, or hey dickwad, I answer to pretty much anything really.”

Oh, so he was THAT kind of guy, used to flaunting his whipcord bod and getting girls to fall over him or some shit. Hard to even tell what kind of shape he was in, aside from the thinness of his face, because of his layers upon layers of jackets and hoods. “Whoa, at least take me to dinner first before you get all handsy, police boy,” she said, still a hint of a slur in her voice. Hell, he was lucky she was too… simultaneously drunk and hungover to care much, or else she might have taken his arm off at the shoulder socket. She half-sank, half-slumped into the passenger seat, immediately buckling her seat belt. The interior of the car smelled… foul, a stale blend of cigarettes and food wrappers, more like a parole’s car than a detective’s. ELIAS. Not all men could pull off an ‘Elias’. “Dickwad, huh?” she snorted as he got behind the wheel. “I think I’ll go with Detective Dickwad.”

“No prob, Ms. Jones,” Ryker was quick to slide his hand free – though it hovered nearby in case she lost her balance somewhere between standing and sitting, a half and fleeting smirk PROBABLY going unnoticed. She was SPUNKY he’d give her that. “Hands off til otherwise indicated,” he said, shutting the door after her and loping around to drop into the driver’s seat, thumbing the engine on and giving it a second to pull up off the ground before he draped a hand over the wheel. His other hand dropped, sliding a pack of smokes from his jacket pocket, tapping one out halfway to offer towards her if she wanted it, shoving it into the corner of his lips if she didn’t, tip pressed to the patch on the side to light it, the window rolled a good halfway down to let the smoke escape. “Detective Dickwad it is – I mean, I did kinda walk myself right into that one,” he agreed. “So – private investigator, huh. And just what is it that you investigate, privately, as a general rule?” She looked … small. And thin, to be the kind of girl that threw herself headway and recklessly into other people’s business for a living, but it took all types and he’d learned long ago that looks were deceiving.

“JESSICA,” she insisted. Cocky dickwad, wasn’t he, presuming he’d eventually GET that invitation? As if! She slouched down in the passenger seat, eyes closed, listening to him start the vehicle, feeling it ease airborne. “No, I don’t smoke.” She kept her vices strictly booze and sex related. Rolling her own window down partway, and feeling the greasy Bay City air against her face as they climbed, she hid her small smile with a shrug. “Yeah, you did. Not real interesting stuff. People just turn to me when the police don’t do jack shit about their cases, either ‘cuz it goes cold or there’s no proof there even IS a case. Mostly missing husbands or wives, not showing up, ‘working late’, their partner afraid they’re sleeping around.” Quickly growing too warm from the metabolizing alcohol in her system, so she clumsily yanked off her scarf and leather jacket, exposing the plain black tank top underneath. She knew from experience that she’d have to pile the clothes back on in a minute, but the relief to her overheated skin was welcomed.

One sided first name basis, check. Hands off, check. A half smirk lingered, though, a long exhale as he drifted into traffic, MOSTLY content to let the autonav handle the driving, though a nudge here and there seemed necessary, at least to him, to keep things in line. He’d only trust tech SO far – a strange sentiment for a species with their sentience in chips in their heads maybe but. Some things he justPREFERRED to do himself. A sideways glance, again, as she eased back, at least for a minute, before wrestling out of the jacket and scarf. He didn’t offer to help – he was pretty sure she’d actually smack if he suggested it. Stubborn or self sufficient or both, he didn’t know, but – it made him smile. “That usually the case? Infidelity, I mean –” He’d had enough experience with humanity to guess it was, but then, he’d never been one to investigate the reasons why someone didn’t come home unless they just weren’t coming home at all, at least, professionally. “Imagine that must lead you down some pretty … INTERESTING avenues in Bay City.” He’d seen some of the skeeviest joints IN Licktown on some of his cases, and that was only dealing with the brothels and the virtuals, he didn’t TYPICALLY get dragged through the seedy motels and bars. Well. PROFESSIONALLY.

He had a… half-decent smile. For a man. And long, pretty hands, resting on the steering wheel as though at any moment the auto-nav would fail and he would have to pilot them to safety. As unlikely as that outcome was… Jessica didn’t doubt his ability to handle it. She idly started to wonder how GOOD he was with those hands… “Yeah, usually,” she grumbled, glad that in her half-still drunk, half-hungover state, she’d remembered to put her camera back in her canvas messenger bag. That would have been a bitch to replace, not to mention she would have to stalk the same brainless wangrods all over Bay City again. “The husbands are dicking around, nine times out of ten. Usually either with an intern or somewhere in Licktown, a titty bar or wherever. Missing wives are sometimes tricky, more like fifty-fifty, affair or shopping spree.” She reached along the side of the seat, found the reclining lever, and hiked it back at a good tilt. “Wake me up when we get there, cowboy,” she murmured, draping her jacket over her face to drown out the whizzing lights that flashed past the air-car’s windows.

“Gotta say, not overly surprised.” He wasn’t especially BEAMING with pride for the human species as a whole, and maybe it was just the jaded part of him speaking, or maybe it was from experience, but then he’d seen a lot of shit in his day, and that was before taking up the mantle of ‘detective’. “Men do tend to be led around by their DICKS,” he agreed, with a loose shrug of broad shoulders, his statement more matter of fact than anything else. “Could excuse it away as primal instinct, alpha male bullshit, blood not being where it’s supposed to be but – I’m generally not one to defend the sins of man-kind,” he remarked, with a half smirk, dividing the syllable to create the distinction from ‘humanity’ to ‘men’. “Men are assholes. Sorry you gotta put up with it, but – at least you get something out of the shitty deal right?”

A small snort of a laugh, his finger drifting over the control column to adjust the temperature to a generally more moderate one – he tended to prefer it chilly, but that wasn’t going to help her regulate any. “Why does the shopping spree angle not surprise me.” A shake of his head, a sideways glance as she made herself comfortable, the jacket dragged over her face, and he fell mostly quiet then, an occasional beat or two of whatever song was playing in his head rumbling through his throat, until the aircar drifted down with a soft chirp as the buffer eased down. Sliding out, and popping open the passenger’s side door, he cleared his throat softly, hesitant to actually try and shake her awake – he rather liked his limbs attached. “Hey. Sleeping beauty, your chariot’s landed,” he said, tugging LIGHTLY on the sleeve of the jacket draped over her face.

#ELIAS & JESSICA.#ELIAS & JESSICA. ( ac. ) ( organic damage. )#IC.#REPLY.#MAGICANDSCIENCEMUSES. ( jessica. )#MAGICANDSCIENCEMUSES #VERSE. ( ac. ) ( organic damage. )#THREAD. ( elias & jessica. ) ( ac. ) ( organic damage. ) 007.

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