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thefanbasewhore · 4 years ago

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Can you do a soulmate Stucky x reader? I feel like you would write that so well, especially how you portrayed bucky in "are you mad at me" was so soft. The soulmate version would be so cute

Summary || Bucky and Steve meet their soulmate, which they had no idea existed.

Warning/content || fluff, a small explicit scene, fighting. Soulmate AU.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve rogers

I got a little carried away, but enjoy ❤️ not edited or beta read but I'm sleepy 😴

Bucky and Steve have had each other from the moment they have met. Imaging their surprise, being two little boys from Brooklyn seeing colors, something the two agreed to hide, pending the time period.

It was different now, a different time. They were accepted and while both of them loved each other, so very much, especially through the mind control, fighting each other, then for each other. They always knew something was missing.

A color, maybe even two, three. A part of them missing but they both collectively came to the conclusion that it was just that. Some missing colors, it happens sometimes.

It happens when they least expect it.

After Thanos, after Tony finally deciding to leave that kind of life behind, buying a small two bedroom house on the outskirts of the city. A home to grow old in, be together for the first time since before the war started but only one thing prevented that.

The house was a disaster, gutted to the foundations, no running water, green moss outside covered the whole house, the lawn completely out of control. For Bucky it was a hard no, it was a dump but the moment Steve fluttered those ridiculously long lashes, how could he say no?

So here they are, sweating on this 90 degree day, putting up new dry wall with no air-conditioning.

"What color should it be?" Steve asks, glancing to his dark haired lover, taking notice of his now shirtless appearance. Bucky let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Maybe we should get all of the walls up first."

Steve clicks his tongue, "I like the color green, like a nice pastel mint green."

"Whatever you want, honey." Bucky wasn't too picky, besides whatever made Steve happy, made him happy.

"Hello?" A sweet, feminine voice came from the kitchen. The doors left open because of the heat, there was nothing much in here anyways.

Steve pulls away from his task, pulling his shirt over his head to wipe his forehead with it. "Come in, we are in the kitchen."

Bucky wasn't too alarmed, Steve had told him previously that he hired a someone to make up the yard, nothing too fancy but the both of them were completely clueless when it came to plants, or gardens period.

"Quite a project you have going on here, Mr. Rogers." No doubt taking in the half gutted house along the way. While they have never met, they spoke on the phone briefly about his wants.

"You have no idea, Hun."

The woman looks around the kitchen first, noticing the freshly painted cabinet, the smell a dead giveaway, half eaten burgers thrown to the side on a small, make shift table with barely enough room to fit.

At first glance towards the man she notices the sharp jawline, defined but soft feature of the blonde as she greets him with a smile which soon drops in confusion as small dots of color appear. Stormy blue eyes with a full beard, Steve's mouth dropping agape as he notices the splirts of color - the missing colors for 106 years finally appear.

Bucky notices the tension in the room, shifting his attention from the wall to Steve, noticing how intensely he's staring, Bucky follows the line of vision and meets sweet eyes.

She's hit with another line of color, different from Steve's but now there's no more gray hue, bright yellows and blues. The outside is suddenly so bright and Bucky mouth drops.

This cannot be happening.

They sit there and stare for what seems like hours.

"I - ugh.." she starts, "What is happening?"

***

Sometimes life just throws curve balls, like finding out that your soulmate or in this cause soulmates are two, one hundred year old super soldiers who have already been in love with each other for over a decade.

The pull is already strong, nature intended for these souls to be together until death due part and honestly Bucky could feel it. With Steve he was used to the urge of wanting to have him close, kiss him every free minute he has but with the woman in front of him, it's new.

He doesn't even know her name, watches the way she nervously flickers from Steve's gaze to his own. She's beautiful.

Strong but delicate features, the curve of her nose is cute, cupid lips are so full... kissable. He can't stop staring, even with Steve and her in the mist of conversation. The make shift table cleared of all prior mess, Buck and Steve have to share a chair, which is quite comical, seeing two giant supersoldier try to share a small, old, dinning room seat.

Bucky's metal fingers twitch, metal plate click and whirl to life as he tights to urge to map her face out with his fingers. His heart is beating so fast, filled with so much... Love? Joy?

No matter how much Steve and Bucky try to hide it.. deep down they always knew, something was missing and in this case, someone.

"You're beautiful." The words catch both her and Steve off guard, Bucky blushes red something terrible but the sweet smile defuses the fire.

Well until she says something back, "You are too."

His whole face is hot and Steve reaches over to affectionately rub the back of his shoulder. Of course Steve was calm, he always is.

He handles things with lots of thought and understanding, while Buck is more hot headed, acts on the moment.

***

"It doesn't feel right." Bucky comments, watching from the window to insure she safely gets into the car. Steve sighs, by the time they're done talking darkness has filled the house. Steve affectionately squeezes the brunette's bicep, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"I know Bucky. This is a lot for her, for us. She needs to take time and reflect on this. She'll come to us when she's ready."

Bucky knows nothing then her name, and love for plants but chews at his bottom lip nervously. She's too far, the bond pulls at his heart strings. Now bonded forever. "What if she never comes back?"

"She will."

***

A few days pass, the kitchen is finally done, new appliances, new china and kitchen fully stocked. Steve is making something for Dinner - it smells amazing while Bucky starts painting the walls of the lifeless living room.

It's bare, not even something to sit on but no doubt with the stamina of two super soldiers it will be done by next week.

The knock on the front door is unexpected, but Bucky replies quickly. "I got it, Stevie!"

He expects some older, much wrinkly neighbor to be complaining about the noise of the nail gone or something this late at night. His mouth drops, a little shocked at the sight of her.

A very formal sitting dress, long and black, dips into a sweetheart neckline, the valley of her breasts easily visible. Hair is thrown into a neat updo, sexy and sleek.

Bucky clears his throat. "Hi." He squeaks out, feeling like a total idiot as he watches her nervously shift her weight from one heel to the other.

"Hi, I was in the area. A wedding for one my clients, thought I'd come say hello." Bucky wants to shake his head in disbelief that something so beautiful, just like Steve is made for him.

The universe sculpted and made two beautiful, breath taking human beings to be his and it's overwhelming. She's so pretty it's alarming.

It was a good excuse, the truth but not the real reason she stopped by. How could she tell them that they have been on her mind none stop? It physically hurts to be away for so long.

"Who is it, Buck?" Steve mumbles, interrupting the thick tension between the two.

"Come in, doll." Bucky's helps her with the jacket that lays over his shoulders, mentioning his head towards the direction of the kitchen, where his other lover is.

Steve is stunned none the less, he at least expected a few more days. Also, feeling much like Bucky, amazed by the radiating beauty.

He decides to play it cool, dimples forming with a breath taking smile. "Do you like spaghetti?"

Hours pass, time moves so fast with conversation, and adding wine to the mix surely didn't help.

The trio once again in the kitchen, but this time each have a chair, a new, more comfortable dinning set.

"You got this done fast. It's beautiful." She comments, "Colors are beautiful, I guess I have you two to thank for that."

Bucky shifts in his seat, the glass of wine is useless but still finds himself sipping from it. Her eyes are red, watery with a slight buzz.

"Do you feel it?" The question has both Bucky and Steve look at each other, watching her teary eyes as she presses a hand to sooth the ache in her chest. "It hurts, it hurts to be away. All week."

"It's normal." Steve answers just above a whisper, his next words make Bucky's bottom lip quiver. "I felt it every day for the last 5 years, Bucky was gone."

Bucky had never thought about it - there hasn't been enough time to. It's only been a month later since the return and it never occurred to him what Steve has gone through.

"Steve.." He starts, tears kiss his waterline as his fingers run through the blonde's hair. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't know, I -."

"Couldn't prevent it Buck. It happened but you're here now and.." Steve turns his attention towards the girl, tears slip past her eyelids. It's for Steve, for Bucky.. all the pain and suffering they've been through. "Hey, don't cry, it's alright beautiful."

It's feels right, despite barely knowing the man, nothing feel more right then being pulled into his chest as a large metal hand comforts her in a different way, rubbing the loose strands of hair as he murmurs. "We've got you now, you're our other half."

***

Months have past from that day. The house is finally done, everything they could have imagined with the additional of an extra tooth brush in the cup that sits on the bathroom sink, a pile of fuzzy blankets at the bottom of the bed and a five year old chocolate lab. Steve didn't mind much, he's always loved dogs, Bucky on the other hand...

"Alright, alright, Maverick." Bucky huffs, grocery bags in hand as the dog excitedly nuzzles his legs, following him throughout the house like it wasn't only an hour ago he's seen him. Once putting the bags down, hears the whine, big brown eyes staring up at him. Bucky sighs, dropping to a knee before petting the pup's head. "Alright you mutt, don't tell anyone about this."

"Too late, pal." Bucky jumps, hearing the amusement in Steve's voice, followed by the giggle of the woman that peers out from behind him. Wrapping her arms around Steve before testing her head against his shoulder.

"Caught you red handed, you love Mav." Bucky grumbles at her words, feeling two smaller hands wrap around his waist as a head falls into his chest. He presses a soft kiss into her hair before taking in the blonde that barely fits through the doorway he leans against.

Bucky's free hand reaches out, mentioning him closer but as she's soon finds herself in the middle of a super soldier sandwich. "Hi, baby." Bucky presses a kiss to the blonde's lips.

"Hi, pal."

***

"It's only one mission. That's it, we will be in and out." Steve promises, not liking the way his girls face twist into a worried expression.

Heavy eyes, lower lip sticking out to pout. "What if something happens? If you get hurt? Or if they find you, Bucky?"

"I told you, Hydra is gone, honey." Bucky's large hands sooth over her tight shoulders, pressing soft kisses to the back of her upper traps.

"No. You still have nightmares at least three times a week. This can't be good for you. And you." She turns her attention back towards Steve, "Barely sleep four hours a night. You carry the fault on your shoulders, you don't need anymore. I don't want you two to go."

"We don't have a choice. They were my family once, I owe this to them." Steve didn't miss the way her lips moves to form a snarl, not sparing another glance as she makes a b-line for the stairs.

Bucky sighs, leaning against the wall. "She's going to be mad at us." Rubbing his chest with hopes to ease the burn.

The bond pulls at their hearts, a slow, painful punishment for their actions.

They return two weeks later, tired, just wanting to see their girl. The moment they walk into the house they look at each other with will wild eyes, heart pumping as they fear the worse. The dog, the annoying wiggling tail that would bark is one where to be found, something is wrong.

It's alarming. "Where is that freaking mutt?"

Steve calls her name, but there is no answer. Bucky and him are searching the house, ascending the stairs, opening the bedroom door with a deep sigh of relief.

The stupid dog takes up half of the bed, but is cuddled into his owner. Arm draped around the ball of fur, amount as long as her.

The dog lifts his head, a little tail waggle as Steve stretches his ears, lowering to his knees and laying his top half over the bed to press loud, audible kisses to his ears. "Good boy, protecting our girl while we are gone."

When morning comes she notices the dog is still pressed against her, licking small stripes against her cheeks. "Have to go out, buddy?"

She barely makes it five steps before tripping over two rather large bodies, sleeping on a makeshift bed on the floor. Bucky groans and Steve's eyes flicker open.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Wanted you to sleep pretty girl. Mav was taking up all the room and you looked like an angel." Bucky hums in agreement despite his eyes being closed.

"Mmm, well it's all free now." It's short, simple but the sarcastic tone has Bucky's eyes flickering to meet his boyfriend's. They both sigh, staring up at the ceiling, knowing it's going to be a long day.

And it is. She's does whatever she can to get away from them, only answers with short replies to the point Bucky can't take it anymore.

"Sweetheart," Bucky tries again but she doesn't acknowledge him, eyes stayed glued to the book. He gets fed up, metal plates click as artificial appendages run over the binding and pull it from her grasp.

"Give it back, James."

He cringes at the name, a displeased frown wears his face. "No, you have to talk to us."

"No."

"You're bring a brat." Bucky starts, watching her expression change from annoyed to anger, wrinkles of frustration pinch between her eyebrows.

"Buck - don't say that to her." Steve comments, it's his fault, he's the one who said yes without confiding in her first.

"She is, it's over with now. She has no right to be this mad."

"No right?" Her chest fills with emotion as a humourless chuckle causes both men to stiffen. "No right? Huh Buck? I sat here for two full weeks, no communication, nothing while the two of you are out there fighting God knows what after you swore, promised you would always be with me. Don't promise me forever if you're just going to throw yourself in danger! You're going to die and leave me, or worse! Both of you will."

No one says a word, only watch as her chest rises and falls with deep, heavy pants despite the tears that rolls past her eyes lashes.

"Honey, I'm sorry -."

"I don't want to hear it James, and you." She turns towards Steve, fire in her soul. "I thought you would understand, more then him, considering it has happened to you."

She leaves the room without another word, Buck turns towards Steve, watching the way he fights the tears that gather. The pain of loosing Bucky is still so fresh, "She's right Buck, we fucked up."

"I know, I know." He mumbles into Steve's shoulder, pulling him close.

***

"You're so good to me, sweet girl." Bucky moans as she shifts her hips against him, the blunt end of his cock hitting the spot inside her that makes her squeal for more.

Large hands squeeze her hips as Steve leans over to find his boyfriend's lips, kissing him through the gasps and whines of their girl's name as she circles her hips around Bucky.

Steve's hands pull at his hair, lips trailing from his lips, down his cheeks before nipping at his jaw.

"How does he feel honey?"

"So good, Stevie." For a second he's in a trance, watching the way her face contours with pleasure and the pain of her third orgasm well on its way.

Steve lays next to Buck, hand wrapping around his own heaviness between his legs as he stokes it, switching between her face of pleasure to Bucky's, who bites his lip to suppress a moan.

It's short lived as hips stutter against her own, coating her walls with his warm cum.

Steve barely gives her time to recover, positioning her on his hands and knees before hovering over her ear and nibbling on it. "My turn, honey."

***

Her hands nervously shake, the kitchen table is all set up, dinner is ready but at the moment she doesn't have an appetite.

Between this morning sickness, the overall change her body is under going, food makes her sick. The opening of the front door makes her sit up straight, sucking in a deep breath.

Two voices conversationing in the hall, "I thought I said for you to lock the door when we leave." Buck is clearly annoyed, it's been a long day but Steve rubs his shoulders, mumbling something incoherent.

Upon entering the kitchen, they both grow worried. Face drained of color, red blotchy eyes with shaky hands.

"Hey, hey." Steve drops to his knees in front of her seat in an instant, hands curling around her wrist as worried steel blue eyes follow his stance, reaching over to stroke her cheek. "What is it? What happened?"

"I'm pregnant." She pauses, "I'm scared, I'm scared. What if someone comes for you? How are we supposed to raise a baby? What if it has the serum, will it ever be safe?"

The questions fill Bucky with dread, how much though put into every sentence, every word is like a new hit of pain to his body but he stays strong. For his girl, he leans forward, wiping the tears away from discolored cheeks. "Everything is going to be fine babydoll, you're going to be fine, our baby is going to be fine."

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 5 years ago

Text

Y’all this is part one! I repeat!! There is a part two!! Literally no one has read yet!! ❤️❤️

She was a friend of Trager’s, from his past. A young girl he’d saved almost twenty years ago now a grown woman thriving. She worked as a waitress at a bar in Sacramento, and Tig often made visits to see her. As he visited last, he had mentioned that he was concerned for her health and wellbeing. He’d said things were getting kind of crazy around Charming. She took that as a warning to get out of Dodge, so she did. She found a place in Dallas to hunker down, found a good job, and made a little life for herself. She was alone, of course, but she had a few friends.

She got ready for work, putting her hair up into two cute little braided buns, pinning back any loose hair before putting on some winged eyeliner and mascara, some fake lashes, and bright red lips. Smoothing her black button down shirt and fixing her collar, she gets on her bike and heads to work. A few Hispanic bikers showed up as soon as the doors opened. They drank and cheered, celebrating something. She smiled as she wiped down the bar, hands pressing onto the wooden top stopping her circles. She looked up and met the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes.

“Hi! What can I get for ya?” She asks, biting her bottom lip ever-so-slightly as she finished speaking. The blonde’s grin only got wider as he ordered a drink, the leather kutte that rested atop his bare shoulders at first had her heart racing. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, wide shoulders, beautiful blue eyes, my god. He was a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes scanned the leather, reading his patches. Sgt. at Arms, Tacoma. Those two meant something to her, as she thought about it while she poured him a drink, and when it hit her she slid the drink to him without another look before disappearing. Her heart was pounding so heavily she thought it might explode. She was leaned against the cool brick wall when Jade found her with a concerned look.

“You okay?” She asks, grabbing the woman’s shoulder. Tig was a sergeant at arms for SAMCRO, and if this guy was the same for Tacoma, she had a bad feeling this guy wasn’t here on pleasure.

“Yeah, sorry. Just felt sick for a second, I’m fine.” She grins, heading back inside to find the blonde still planted at the bar. A few more men made it to the bar, and she could feel the blonde’s eyes on her every move. “You need a refill, Darlin’?” She asks, and his eyes meet hers for a moment as he nods, winking at her. Her knees went weak for a second as his fingers brushed hers when he took the glass.

“Thanks, doll.” She almost visibly choked at the nickname. She’d only been called that by one other person. Her eyes jolted to his and he winked once more, sipping from his drink and watching the golf on the TV above the bar. She hurriedly got the other men their drinks before returning to stand in front of the gorgeous biker.

“You know Trager?” She hushes, eyes pleading him for something. He couldn’t quite tell what she wanted him to say, so he gambled on a yes.

“Yeah, I’m SAMTAC, here on vacation. Trager and I go back pretty far.” He chuckles, taking another sip from his drink.

“Right, got a name blue eyes?” She asks, giving him a little smirk.

“Kozik.” He chuckles, reaching for her knuckles. He takes them into one big, ringed hand for a second before dropping it on the bar.

“Well Kozik, what brings a Tacoma bad boy like you to Dallas on vacation?” She asks, wiping out a couple glasses as her eyes scan the bar for anyone looking for a drink.

“Just got sick of Washington, I guess. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta tell ya, I’m lovin’ the view.” She snorts, rolling her eyes as she pours another drink for one of the men down the bar.

“How many poor unsuspecting crow eaters you use that on?” She scoffs with a smile. He laughs, giving her a great big smile making her heart jump.

“Probably too many.” He admits, shaking his head.

“Where ya staying?” She asks, writing down her name, apartment, and phone number on an old tab receipt.

“Mariot. Lemme tell ya, those beds suck ass.” He chuckles, eyes watching her scribble. Tig made Kozik a deal, if he could get the girl back to SAMCRO he could patch in. He took the job confidently, how hard could it be to convince a chick to get on a motorcycle with a hot biker? He chuckled to himself as he thought about Tig’s conversation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Kozik!” Tig shouted through the shop, finding the blonde in the lot working on his bike. “Dumbass! I got a job for ya!” He shouted, waving the big blonde into the clubhouse.

“What’s up?” He asks, wiping his hands off on a grease rag in his pocket.

“Tell you what, with all the shit that went down with Gemma, it got me thinking about a girl I saved.” Kozik snorted, raised his brows at the older man. Tig scowled, swatting him upside the head. “Not like that you fuckin’ idiot. Anyway, this girl is really important man. Be serious, or I’ll find someone else.” Tig warned, pointed a finger at the younger man.

“Sorry, man. Go on.”

“Anyway, lockdown is in four days. You gotta get this girl back here so I can keep her safe.” His eyes were darker than normal, Kozik noticed. Tig really cared about this girl.

“Okay, what’s in it for me? Where is she even at?” Tig looked to the floor.

“I’ll let you patch in. She’s in Dallas at a hole in the wall bar, I’ll give you the address. You up for the challenge?” He asked, scribbling down the information he needed. He watched on as Tig pulled his chained wallet from his pocket and pulled a picture from it. His thumb brushed over the little Polaroid.

“Dallas, man? That like twenty five hours away without stops dude.” He groaned, frowning. Tig grabbed his shoulder and Kozik met his eyes.

“I know, I know it’s a lot. But if anyone has a chance at convincing her to come home, it’s you. Please.” Kozik could tell he was so serious. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the photo from Tig’s hands and the address and got ready to head out. “Kid? Be careful. She’s a firecracker. She could, in fact, kill you if you piss her off, courtesy of me by the way.” He chuckled before he headed back to the garage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well here, I’m not sure if my fold out couch is any better but Pop wouldn’t want me leaving you in a shitty motel.” She chuckles, sliding her information across the bar to the man before disappearing out of sight. Her shift is cut short by Jade appearing and grabbing the towel from her hands.

“You and blondie get outta here, Dax wants me to close up since we’ve been pretty dead. Go on!” She laughs, pushing the younger woman out the bar’s two-way swinging door and handing her her purse.

“Oh no, he’s a friend of Pop’s. So no. I won’t be ‘getting outta here’ with him.” She laughs, hopping on her bike and starting it, when his Dyna roars up next to her.

“You out already?” He calls, giving her a sweet, sexy smirk. With a nod, she zooms away with a smile, letting him follow behind her as she headed to her apartment. Pulling into the lot, she hops off her bike, waving him into the same spot she was parked in. As she heads up the stairs, she finds Missus Cipriani sitting on her porch, coffee cup in her wrinkled hands. Grabbing a chair, she sits next to old woman and offers Kozik to lean against the rail.

“Sweet girl, you found yourself a man?” She asks, grinning at the blonde leaned against the iron railing.

“Yes ma’am,” Kozik responds before she had a chance to get the words out. Kozik steps up, patting your shoulder.

“You look nice, tell me young man, what do you do for a living?” She asks, sipping her chamomile tea with honey. Lyra could smell the sweetness and desperately longed for a cup of it.

“I’m a mechanic in Charming, California.” He smiles, gripping the ebony-curled woman’s shoulder.

“Very nice, you two are cute. Have a good night, sweet girl. I love you.” Missus Cipriani smiles as Lyra stood to head to her door. “Lyra?” She asks as Kozik stepped into the small apartment, her apple doll face scrunched up as she smiled wide. “He’s a cutie. And a keeper. Good night, baby.” She grins, all big teeth and wrinkly skin. Lyra grinned back, blowing her a kiss.

“Night, Elsie. Love you. Sleep tight. If that damn cat wakes you up again let me know, I’ll kill that scraggly bastard.” Elsie laughed so hard for a moment, Lyra couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Of course dear. Goodnight.” Lyra steps into her apartment shutting the door. She turns to face the blonde, nervous and a little scared.

“So, Kozik. That’s it? Just Kozik?” He chuckles, looking her up and down, soaking in her petite body, licking his lips.

“It’s Herman Kozik. Don’t call me Herman.” He nips, pointing a finger at her. With a giggle, she unbuttons her black shirt, pulling it off to reveal a floral tattoo on her shoulder, and a plain black bra.

“Feel free to get comfy. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be right back.” She disappears, leaving him to collect his thoughts. They should be on the road by morning or they’d never make the first night. Though if he were honest, he’d rather they stay holed up in her apartment, finding out more about each other, maybe on a deeper personal level. He found her insanely attractive, he found himself having a hard time controlling the urge to touch her.

“Hey, want a beer?” She calls from the kitchen, drawing him back to earth.

“Yeah, that’d be good. Hey, I got a question.” He states, popping his beer cap and putting it in the pocket of his kutte and taking a swig.

“What’s that?” She asks, a small smile on her lips.

“I need you to come back to Charming with me.” He croons, eyes pleading with her.

“Oh no. No you don’t.” He tries to stop her but a fire rages in her eyes, hand gripping the neck of the bottle.

“Listen, I gotta bring you in one way or—“

“No.” She states plainly, sitting on the couch next to him and sipping her beer.

“Come with me.”

“No!” She barks, glaring at him.

“You don’t have a choice. I’ll kidnap you if you wanna look at it that way. Against your will, you can tell everyone in Charming I did it. I kidnapped you, but Tig knows and so do I, it’s for your safety. Get up, we gotta go. Pack a few bags, nothing major, it’s only a week.” He informs, taking another drink trying to calm his nerves.

“Make m—“ He hand covers her mouth and he gets within inches of her face.

“Don’t. Trust me, love. That’s not gonna end well.” He growls low, watching her eyes widen under his hand. With a quick, swift kick, he was flat on his back heaving for breath as she was sprinting away. Catching her ankle, he drops her on the floor and handcuffs her. “Tig was serious.” He huffs, trying to catch his breath.

Lifting her to her feet proved difficult, especially when she slammed her head into his. Grasping at his eye and growling, he tackles her to the ground leaving her there as he headed to her bedroom to pack a couple bags. When he was finished, he dragged her to his bike. Padlocking her handcuffs to the seat strap, he tucks her bags into the saddlebags.

“Christ, you’re such an asshole.” She hisses, her wrists burning from the tight cuffs.

“I’ll take those off if you promise to behave.” He coos darkly, trying to look scary. She chuckles with a glare.

“Behave, Pop did tell you I wouldn’t go willing, didn’t he? That would be why you have the cuffs, right? I mean, unless your a motorcycling badass who plays rent-a-cop.” She snarls. He was tired. He’d been up for almost twenty-seven hours, and he was exhausted. He gave a yawn, and she felt a little bad for being such a pain. Deep down she knew Tig was doing it out of love, but had he really sent this big brute to drag her back kicking and screaming? Of course he had. He sent this big blonde on purpose. He thought she’d be so swooned by his looks that he thought he’d be able to whisk her away. “Fine, I’ll cooperate, but take these off please. Number one, it’s not safe, and number two, I’d rather hold on to you. For safety reasons of course.” She giggles.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m unhooking them on one condition only.” He growls, fingertips feeling his cheek gingerly and wincing. He’d have a black eye from her little excursion.

“And that is?”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t plan on running, kicking my ass again, or ya know, any crazy horse shit Tig taught you. He’s just trying to keep you safe, and honestly, I don’t know why he sent me. He still blames me for his dog dying. So I don’t know why he sent me, but he did. He trusts your life with me, and I plan on delivering you to him alive. How alive you are, depends on how you wanna act.” He heaves a long sigh, sucking in a huge yawn.

“I know. Listen, let’s sleep tonight and leave in the morning. You’re too tired to drive. You can even handcuff me to you if it helps.” She assures, resting her head on his warm, bare shoulder.

“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He whispers, unlocking the padlock and helping her off the bike. They went back inside and he did like she suggested he handcuffed her to himself and they laid on the couch. He laid down first, offering on top of him as a totally viable place to be comfortable. Giving a giggle, she agreed. Laying on him, she shivers against him, reveling in the warmth and sweet cologne and smoke that swirled around them. Yanking the blanket off the back of the couch over the two, in seconds they were fast asleep.

“Morning.” She calls from the kitchen as she hears him roll over. He’d left the cuff-keys within reach, and this morning at six when she had to pee, she found them and unhooked herself. She’d considered running, he wouldn’t find her for at least a few hours. She’d decided against it. It might be nice to go back to Charming and see everyone she’d missed. With a sigh, she found herself feeling a little excited.

“Tell me, Tacoma. You originally from Tacoma? Or somewhere else?” He sat up when he heard her voice so far away.

“How did you—“ She tosses the keys to him and disappears again, returning with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Thanks.” He smiles, taking a bite. “I’m originally from Charming, but me and Tig had a falling out. I left for Washington and Tig became Sargent at Arms for SAMCRO.” He nods finishing his breakfast and standing to stretch. “Hey, I gotta drain the radiator.” She points him towards the bathroom as she heads to his bike to grab the bags he packed. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he went looking only to find the apartment empty. “Fuck!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle just as she stepped back into the apartment to get rid of half the stupid things that he packed.

“Miss me baby?” With a snide remark, she watches as he heaves a deep breath.

“Fuck off.” He breathes, grabbing her tight against him. Was he scared for her safety? Was he worried that she’d run away? He didn’t know what made him do it, but he did, arms tightening around her. Dropping her bags at his feet, and grips his shoulders. “Next time say something.” He snips, pulling himself away from her and eyeing her bags.

“I was gonna repack really quick. I figured you didn’t pack anything I’d actually wear. Which means I’m either going naked or I’m repacking. And that’s totally up to you.” He grins darkly, grabbing her up and making her squeal before he put her back on her feet.

“Go ahead, I’ll be out here.” He smiles, smacking her butt as she scampered down the hall. Appearing a moment later with her bags, she grins at him as she slips out the door, Kozik following quickly behind.

“Missus Cipriani!” She knocks on the woman’s door. As the little old woman appears, she grins when she sees the bags and the big blonde behind her. “Hey, I’m gonna be gone for like a week. You think you could water Jethro and Lucille for me? I’ll leave you my keys.” She hands over her door key, and with a smile, they disappear down the stairs.

He pulls into a gas station and fills up, heading in for a drink.

“You want a drink?” He calls to her. With a little smile, she gets off the bike and heads in with him. His eyes caught a camera in the corner and a man with a swastika on his chest. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her against him, pulling her hood up over her head. “Don’t question me.” He hums in her ear as he leads her to the case for a drink. They both grab energy drinks and head to the counter. His leather kutte should have tipped they off, but they never saw her face. He got her to the counter paid for their things and headed out, hopping on the bike. “Don’t move.” He whispers, pulling a Kevlar vest from a saddlebag and haphazardly pulling it over her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Kozi—“

“Don’t.” He whispers as the man heads out of the store to a green and off white bronco. Grabbing his cellphone, he dials Tig. “Hey! What does Weston drive? Is he bald?” He asks, his face scowling as Tig answers.

“Is she with you?” He asks, and Kozik assures she’s safe.

“Yeah, she’s got the Kevlar on. Don’t worry.” He murmurs, “listen, does Weston drive a green two tone bronco?”

“Yeah, why? He there?” He asks.

“Yeah. I got it. Just gotta lose him.” He mutters. Climbing on the bike in front of her and shedding his beautiful kutte. “Stuff this between us.” He whispers, before he hears Tig.

“Hey, can I talk to her?” Kozik hands back the phone.

“Hey Pop!” She cheers, getting a sideways glance from a half-mad Kozik.

“He keepin’ you safe?” He asks, voice somber.

“Yeah pop. He’s pretty cute too. Good choice.” She giggles, hearing the blonde huff. Peeking around his shoulder, she sees a smug grin on his face.

“Stay with him, darlin’. I know it’s not ideal, but that Weston guy is gonna try to hurt you. Let Kozik do what he needs to. Don’t fight him. Okay?” He asks as his eyes filled with tears. He was terrified that Weston found them and they hadn’t even left Dallas yet.

“Yeah, Pop. You got it. Hey, is he a good one?” Kozik listened in for a second.

“Yeah, kid. Hold on tight.” He chuckles, swiping quickly at the tears that rolled down his cheeks as Clay walked in.

“Alright, Pop. I love you.” She whispers, feeling her throat start to close.

“I love you too, doll face. You and dumbass keep each other safe, okay? I’ll see you when you get here, hunny. I love you so much.” He whispers, letting her hang up. Tig’s hands smoothed up and down his lap for a while to calm himself down. He should’ve just gone by himself. He should have just done it. Gone and brought her home. He should have never made Kozik that deal. He knew she’d find him attractive, but she sounded genuinely interested. “We need to arrange someone to pick them up the minute they hit California. Make it look like a heist. I’ll send someone else for the bike with a tow truck. Kozik already has a tail. Weston.” He growls.

“Who’s Weston?” She asks as they floor it onto the highway. Kozik checking his mirrors to see the bronco get on right behind them.

“Hold on, babygirl.” He yells over the whipping wind as he cranks the speed. Revering in the feel of her arms squeezing tightly to him, he guns it harder as he weaves through traffic. He hadn’t even meant to call her that, but it slipped out and he didn’t take it back.

“Kozik! He’s gone!” She shouts, giving a shriek and hugging tighter to him as he guns it harder. They headed up to the panhandle of Texas and into New Mexico. As they pulled off into a big gas station and he pulls the bike between two big semis.

“Hey, you can take off the Kevlar. It’s okay. Weston got off in Albuquerque, I got a scout leading him back to Charming.” The pretty blonde heading into the store after filling the bike. She slipped into the bathroom and sat down to pee when she heard the door open and her heart stopped.

“Darlin’?” His rough sweet voice calls from the doorway.

“Yeah.” She calls, finishing up and heading out to find something to drink.

“Hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his arm loosely hanging over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat somewhere.” She coos, grabbing onto the front of his kutte.

“Yeah, I suppose we better. You up for breakfast?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. You okay?” She asks, eyeing him. He looked tired and scared. He looks up for only a moment before he grabs her hand and leads her to the counter with a couple energy drinks and a bag of pizza combos.

“I’m just tired.” He chuckles, dropping a ten on the counter and heading out the door, his favorite black-haired girl in tow.

“Yeah, you ready to find some grub?” She giggles as he swings her in a sweet circle, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand. “And you can dance.” She grins, laughing as he swings and twirls her.

“Not a lot.” He laughs, helping her onto the bike before climbing on, her small arms wrapping around his abdomen and holding tightly as he searched for a breakfast place. Pulling into a parking lot across from a Mariot was a little diner he prayed served breakfast. It was close by, they could walk over for actual breakfast in the morning. They had finally made it to Milan, that Kozik read on a pamphlet at the door. Heading into the restaurant, Kozik’s hand doesn’t leave her waist. They’d fallen into an easy routine of being in love, and they barely knew each other. He found he wasn’t curious. He’d loved just being around her. He lets her into the corner against the wall, sliding in next to her.

“Hi! Welcome to Milan! What can I get you two to drink?” Asks the bubbly, curvy waitress, with a happy smile. Kozik assessed her quickly before giving her one of his biggest smiles, making the young girl blush. Lyra felt her heart drop for a second, gripping his thigh.

“I’d like a coffee, just black.” She smiles, giving the blonde dirty look.

“Coffee too, got a long trip ahead.” He smiles, patting her upper thigh in contentment. As the girl nods and wisps away, he presses a kiss to her forehead and murmurs in her ear. “Darlin’, the only person in here with my full attention,” his fingers danced up her thigh, making her shift, “is you, babygirl. Don’t you worry.” He rasps, nipping at her ear before straightening up and flipping open a menu. She let out a few shaky breaths as the waitress reappeared with their coffee.

“You need a few minutes to look over the menu?” She asks, pulling her order book and pencil out.

“I do, you?” She looks to the blonde, kissing the bare skin of his upper arm where the tattoo sat.

“I need just a minute. Sorry, we’ve never been here.” He chuckles, one hand absently gently running back and forth along her inner thigh, exciting her senses and making her knees pull together squeezing his fingertips to make him stop.

“What are you doing?” She hushes into his ear, pressing an ardent kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and kisses her square on the lips, his own warm and inviting. The waitress appeared back with her book, ready to take an order.

“If we order, can we get it packaged to-go?” He asks, one arm slung over her shoulders lazily.

“Yeah absolutely! What can I get packed up for ya?” They ordered breakfast, each getting two different things and got their bag of breakfast food and headed to the hotel across the street. He handed off the food to her and carried their bags in. After checking in, they all but sprinted to the room. He was ready to get her undressed, find out what that big tee shirt and shorts were hiding.

As they slipped into the room, she dropped the food on a table, yanking her clothes off in a whirlwind of flying objects, their clothes landing in a pile together. His warm, strong body met hers feverishly, holding her tight as his lips found hers in a passionate meet of tongues and lips. Her fingers combed through his soft blonde spikes, his fingers tangling in her dark ebony curls as they fell to her shoulders when he broke her hair tie. With a laugh, they continued to get more heated. Digging his wallet from his jeans pocket on the floor, he pulls over a condom, rolling it on as she watched. Grabbing his wallet chain, he unhooks in from his wallet, hauling her back against the bed and wrapping the wallet chain around her wrists twice and clipping them to the bannister of the metal bed frame. He stretched her legs straight down under him and she sucked in a breath when his lips met her cool skin with hot kisses and nips. He ground his hips into hers with smooth rhythm.

He gave a low growl as he slid into her, her eyes blown wide legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles crossing. Unhooking her hands and unwinding the cold chain, he drags it along her clammy hot skin sending shivers down her spine and leaving her gasping for air. The cold shocked her and he grinned as he dropped the chain to the floor and her hands found his back, nails biting into his muscular shoulders.

Hands digging for a hold on him as they reached their peak, Kozik grunting against her as he rode out his high, leaving the two breathless and sated. He padded to the bathroom and she heard the shower start. With a deep breath, she headed in after him with her little travel shower kit. They climbed in the shower and she grabbed her kit and handed him a bottle of men’s shower gel and grabbed her own floral scented body wash.

“Should I ask why you have men’s shower gel?” He chuckles, giving her a little smile.

“Tig sends me a bottle every year for Christmas. I told him I missed having him around so he sent me a bottle of shower gel to put in the corner like he still lived with me, or least visited.” She explains shyly, scrubbing his back, using the loofah to trace the letters etched into his wide shoulders. Something about the black ink against his lightly golden skin, the blonde hair and those beautiful ocean blue eyes that drank her in so often, she fell in love. She was totally in love with this perfect, gorgeous stranger. Pop had done it on purpose. He took the loofah from her hands and squeezed out the men’s body wash before putting her floral pink shimmery wash and scrubbing up and down her body. He found himself mesmerized by her beauty.

A few hours pass and she was reading a pamphlet about the twenty-four-hour pool. Shaking Kozik’s shoulder, he rolls and grunts, waving her away from him. Grabbing her cell phone and a towel, she changes into her two piece swim suit and heads down to the pool. Oddly enough, at two in morning, there was a man at the pool, short dark hair and a swastika tattoo at the base of his throat. He was tall, gangly, all arms and legs as he did laps around the pool seemingly minding his own business. She sits her towel on the fold out chair and saunters into the hot tub.

“Shit, it’s early.” He peeked through one eye and looked at the clock that sat on the side table. 3:45AM gleamed red. He reached for her waist to find the bed empty. Shaking his head, he waited a few minutes before getting up to check the bathroom to find the door open and light off. His heart started to pound as he started down the halls to the pool. Shoving into the pool room, he’s woken completely by the bleach smell starting a fire in his nostrils. He looked through the room and found it empty, expect for a SAMCRO towel hanging on a chair. “No.” He mutters, grabbing the towel and hunting around for any other idea as to where she went.

“Jump in, the water’s fine.” A dark voice calls from behind the blonde man. Kozik turns slowly to face a tall brunette, gangly with a swastika tattoo on his chest. Kozik leaned over the edge to find her sitting on the bottom of the pool.

“Christ!” He jumps in, jeans and black tee, grabbing her and dragging her to the surface and ripping the tape from her mouth and pulling her against him. Smoothing the hair from her face and starts chest compressions. “Come on! Come on! Please! Don’t do this to me!” He shouts, giving her chest compressions until she coughs up some water, sucking in a breath and sputtering up water. “Christ.” He heaves, gathering her against him and undoing the ties around her arms and legs. Lifting her up, he carries her to the chair, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her. Carrying her up to their room, he calls Tig to let them know what happened. He puts the phone on speaker as he continues to bustle around, pulling all of her wet clothes off of her. No answer. Slapping the phone shut, he tosses it aside to dry her off with a towel and tugging one of his tee shirts onto her and dragging the three layers of blankets up over her. He dials Tig once more, tucking his piece into the band of his jeans and getting everything packed up. They were leaving. In six hours she’d be the safest she could be at TM and he couldn’t handle her wandering off anymore. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? He paced back and forth until Tig finally answered.

“She’s okay.” Kozik starts, “but one of Weston’s guys tried to drown her.”

“What?” Tig storms.

“She’s fine. Sleeping right now. But I have everything packed and we’re leaving in a few hours. We’re six hours away. I’m gonna get her ready to head out in two hours. I’ll call before we hit the road. Tig I’m sorry. I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” He assures, still pacing.

“Lemme talk to her.” He asks.

“She’s sleeping, man.” He looks to her, eyes closed chest gently rising and falling.

“Kozik.” He warns. Carefully, he shook her shoulder and woke her up.

“Sorry, babygirl. Your pop wants to chat at ya for a minute.” She takes the phone, looking at him with a sad, tired smile.

“Hey, you okay?” Tig asks.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is almost non-existent as she rasps out the words.s

“Good to hear, baby. Kozik wasn’t with you when you went to the pool?” Tig drills her with questions and she starts to hunker into the blankets and drops the phone.

“Hey! She got really scared. What ever you were saying she got so scared, man. Listen, she’s safe. I’ll have her there in eight hours.”

“You better.” He growls. “You’ll be lucky if I even let you patch in after this.”

“Listen man, I don’t even care. As long as I get her back in one piece, I’ll go back to Tacoma.” He assures, clicking shut the phone and looking to her. He finds her staring at him in wonder. “Hey pretty girl, don’t worry. We’ll get you to Tig safely.”

“You come cuddle me?” She gets out, grasping her throat. Grabbing a bottle of water, he holds it gently to her lips, pouring the littlest amount into her mouth. The soothing cool water made her sigh and he crawled under the blankets with her for a second, warming her. “You can’t go to Tacoma. I love you.” She murmurs softly against his chest . He smooths her wet hair as she cuddles closer to him, falling fast asleep.

“Oh baby, I love you too.” He whispers, his heart pounding as she lightly snored.

#imagine #cute imagine #herman kozik imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik imagine #kozik oneshot #tigsdaughter!reader #soa #sons of anarchy

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antagonistchan · 4 years ago

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sometimes i see lewd artists draw Kali Belladonna without her wrinkles and i just do not get it

like i haven’t watched RWBY since volume 1 (i’ve been meaning to catch up for YEARS i’ve just never gotten around to it) so maybe those aren’t wrinkles, maybe they’re scars or makeup with interesting backstory

but they look like wrinkles to me, and she is a milf so it’d absolutely make sense for her to have wrinkles, and i like the idea that they are wrinkles

like she’s not super wrinkly, the only real hint of her wrinkles is under her eyes

but like

even just that SLIGHT hint that she might be a bit wrinkly adds SO MUCH to her appeal

like i’m not extremely into older women (though now that i mention it, not only have both of my girlfriends been older than me, but all four women i’ve been intimate with period have been older than me (even if the other two were only like two years older), so maybe i’m more into older women than i thought?...) but like

Kali manages to be visibly mature in an anime art style without looking like a caricature of an older woman, which is both very impressive from a character design standpoint AND MORE IMPORTANTLY IT’S REALLY HOT

SHE LOOKS OLD ENOUGH TO HAVE A TEENAGE/YOUNG ADULT DAUGHTER AND THAT MAKES HER A REALLY GOOD MILF

AND HER WRINKLES MAY BE A VERY SLIGHT DETAIL, BUT TAKING THEM AWAY CHANGES HER WHOLE VIBE

NORMALLY SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE’S IN HER FORTIES OR MAYBE EVEN FIFTIES

BUT WHEN ARTISTS DRAW HER WITHOUT HER WRINKLES SHE JUST LOOKS LIKE YOUR AVERAGE TWENTY-SOMETHING ANIME BABE

HELL SOMETIMES I SEE ARTISTS DRAW HER ALONGSIDE BLAKE, HER 17-19 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER, AND THEY LOOK LIKE THEY’RE THE SAME DAMN AGE

PLEASE, I BEG YOU, LET THE MILF CATGIRL KEEP HER WRINKLES

#nsfw?#antagonist originals #gay tag #THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH TWENTY-SOMETHING ANIME BABES BUT THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM ALREADY #DON'T REDUCE THE ACTUALLY OLDER-LOOKING MILFS TO THAT THERE'S SO FEW OF THEM #SOME VARIETY WOULD BE NICE

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sayijo · 6 years ago

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A/N: Hey look I’m actually writing for my OCs again

Summary: Rae’s backstory

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Blood, swearing

Rae trudged through the snow.

His old, worn out leather boots were beginning to fall apart at the seams, melted snow coming in through the cracks and soaking his worn down socks. He had a muddy army field jacket sling over a wrinkly grey pullover hoodie, his black sweatpants loose and worn down at the knees. His dark red scarf hung loosely around his neck.

He was shivering, holding himself in a self-cradle. His frizzled brown hair hung down off the sides of his head, ruffling in the cold air and obstructing his sight. His ears were burning from the freezing air, even though he had his hood pulled loosely over his head.

He walked down the streets of the small village he was currently in, trying to score something to eat. He was starving. The feeling felt like a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. He whimpered softly as the wind picked up, sending snow flying into his face. What he wore was barely enough to make him feel warm.

Everyone else in the village had decided to lock themselves in their houses. Rae wished he could do the same. He wished he could have a roof over his head. He wished he could cuddle up next to a heater or a fireplace. He wished he could have a proper meal.

He wished someone would open the door, would invite him in. Sit him down at a table and place food in front of him. He wished someone would take pity of him.

But no one pitied beggars.

So there he stood, with no money to his name and only a knife tucked away in his jacket. The blade was worn down, but it still managed to look threatening. He shuddered again as the wind picked up.

It’s what’d he do: mug people at knifepoint, bouncing around from village to village to avoid getting caught. He could never stay for long. Stealing wasn’t enough; he had to rob. Fortunately, he never hurt anyone. He didn’t have a choice. He needed to survive. Every time he felt he had found a goldmine place to stay, it’d never work out; his previous crimes came back to haunt him, and he had to leave.

His nose perked up. His head raised a bit, and he turned to his right. Through the falling snow, the lights from the village houses cast a scattered glow onto the powdered ground. He sniffed again, already feeling his mouth began to water. He took a step forward before he ended up darting through the street, his heart rate began to quicken up. The snow crunched underneath his quickened footsteps.

He stopped in front of a house. The smell was coming through the window. He pressed himself along the wall as he crept towards the open window, his body scraping along with the brick. His hand reached forward and grasped a windowsill before he poked his head up and looked inside.

He saw dark wooden walls. A table.

Probably some family preparing dinner. The table he saw was decked out in cutlery. A loaf of fresh bread sat in the middle of the table. Rae strained his ears to listen, and he could hear pots and pans being moved in the kitchen, the entrance directly across the room where Rae was looking in.

Better now than later.

Rae took out his knife from his jacket. The worn leather handle fit well in his hand. He reached his right hand up, and cut a slash in the screen. His knife moved silently, not making a single noise. He cut a big enough square for him to crawl through, before discarding the screen on the snow outside. Placing the knife back in his jacket, he planted two hands on the windowsill before he weakly hoisted himself up.

He stepped forward, his foot reaching into the house first. He carefully placed it down, testing how creaky the floorboards were. Once he concluded that no noise was to be made, he stepped into the house. He crept to the table, which thankfully, was only a few feet away.

“...honey? Can you call the kids down for—“ Someone’s voice rang out from the kitchen. A young woman came walking through the kitchen to the dining room, holding a sizzling pan in her hands. Her eyes set themselves on Rae, and he froze on the spot.

She shrieked.

To be honest, Rae didn’t blame her. He was sure that he looked like a zombie. His cheeks were sunken and he had tired bags underneath his eyes. His back was bent over like his spine was deteriorating and struggling to keep his body upright.

Rae would’ve burst out laughing if he wasn’t so fucking terrified. This was his only chance at grabbing something to eat, and he wasn’t going to let this minor inconvenience stop him. He dove forward, his hands wrapping themselves around the loaf of bread.

He wasn’t expecting for the lady to come swinging at him. The sizzling hot pan came smashing onto his hands, the hot oil splashing everywhere. He bit back a cry of pain as he retracted his arms, hugging the bread close to his chest like it was worth more than his life. He whirled around and scrambled for the window.

He could hear someone yelling from behind him. A deeper voice. A man.

Rae jumped out the window, immediately being embraced by the cold December air. He landed, but he lost his footing and he ended up crashing to the ground. Despite it all, his arms remained locked around his chest, and he scrambled to his feet, slipping on the ice that had sparsely formed on the ground.

He started running.

He was aware of a shotgun being cocked from behind him. The noise came from his left and behind him, and he instinctively ducked, keeping his head out of view.

A loud bang rang out, the sound echoing off the nearby walls. The snow near Rae’s feet sprang up, most likely blown away by the shot.

Thankfully, the man had missed.

Or at least, Rae hoped so.

His heartbeat was thundering in his chest, his breathing rapid and quick. He risked a glance behind him, and took notice that a man with a shotgun was standing in the middle of the street, staring him down. His silhouette was barely visible through the falling snow, making Rae unable to make out any distinguishing details. He could hear dogs barking at the noise of the gun, and a few doors opened with confused and startled neighbours poking their heads out.

Rae turned right and ducked into an alleyway. The space was barely enough to fit even himself. He stopped for a few moments to catch his breath, before he spotted some discarded crates scattered further down the alleyway, and frantically made his way to them.

Sharp pain in his left leg made him look down.

There was blood beginning to soak his pants, small droplets of red staining the snow from underneath his feet. A small section of the left side of his left pant leg was shredded, and Rae could see the skin underneath was torn and bloody.

He must’ve been grazed by the shot.

He bit through the pain and made his way over to the crates.

“He went that way!” Someone behind him called out just as he jumped over and ducked behind a crate, pressing himself along the wood, curling his knees close to his chest. He let out a fearful sob, too exhausted to keep running.

“I can’t see him!”

“Spread out! He’s around here somewhere! I hit him! I know I did!”

Rae clasped a hand over his mouth in an effort to mask his breathing.

He could hear the crunching of snow as someone made their way to him, the crate providing the only barrier between him and whoever was approaching. He gritted his teeth, just hoping that they would stop walking.

Their footsteps grew louder and louder.

They stopped.

Rae had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from gasping in fear.

A pause.

“Dammit, where’d he go? Damn street rats.” Someone mused and cursed out loud, before the sounds of footsteps began to recede. Rae could hear them beginning to fade away, until it was replaced with the distant sound of people arguing with one another. The wind picked up, howling like a pack of wolves.

Rae let out a ragged sigh of relief, crashing to the ground, leaning against the crate for support. He stared down at his left leg, staring at the torn up bloody wound. Thankfully, it didn’t look like there was any buckshot embedded into the flesh. He stared down at the bread in his grasp, barely even noticing the burned and red patches on the back of his hands.

He scarfed down the bread like a rabid animal. His eyes darted around like a prey looking out for a predator. He barely even considered chewing. He hated this life. He just wanted to sit somewhere safe, somewhere where he didn’t fear for his life every second.

He just wished he didn’t exist.

He stared down at his leg once he was finished. The pain seemed to slowly bleed back in. He needed to stop the bleeding, but there wasn’t anything to wrap around the gash. After looking around, he decided that he wasn’t going to get help by just sitting there. He reached his hand up, and grasped the edge of the crate, using it to pull himself up. He hissed in pain once his pant leg brushed against his wound.

He looked up and down the alleyway, and once he decided that the coast was clear, he limped down the alley. The houses around him provided minimal shelter from the snow, but it did stop the wind from chilling him to the bones.

He reached the edge of the alley. He poked his head out of the alleyway and looked up and down the street. His eyes scanned the streets, the wind catching into his hood and causing himself to involuntary shudder.

“Fuck.” He hissed to himself.

His best option was to grab some cash to buy some basic medical supplies. He looked around again, before he dashed across the street, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. He was aware that he was leaving a trail of blood in his wake, but he was too fearful and too tired to care.

He looked around.

The sky had begun to darken. Locals had started to light lanterns, hooking them right above their doors. The lights cast a soft golden glow on his body. But there was no warmth on his skin; the lights gave him no sense of security at all. He looked around, trying to find a place to stay the night. He was forced to abandon his sleeping bag in the previous town he had stayed in, given that his small hideout had been discovered and what little possessions he had were taken away.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He growled angrily, looking around.

His eyes settled on the front porch of a nearby house. One of the panels on the side of the patio was loose. He cautiously looked around, before he snuck his way closer. He reached his hands out to grip the board and pulled it up. The space it created was enough for him to squeeze through.

And that’s what he did.

He cursed a bit as a nail that stuck out from the wood snagged onto his clothing.

The patio provided enough shelter from the elements. The sound of the snow and wind outside was muffled by the wood, and his legs collapsed out from underneath him, all the exhaustion quickly beginning to catch up to him. He rested his left cheek on the cold, hard soil. He pulled his scarf to cover his nose and his mouth. He scanned his hands again, taking in the sight of the burned patches on the skin from the hot oil. Parts of the skin was like paper, coming off in sheets.

“Fuck this life.” Rae spat.

He lay there for a while, listening to the howling wind outside, the frost from the ground spreading its freezing touch onto his skin.

He shifted his body so that he lay on his right side, crossing his arms as he held himself in a self-cradle. He tucked his knees into his chest, trying to preserve whatever small amount of body heat that he had left, wincing a bit as the fabric brushed up against his gash. His eyelids were heavy and willingly he allowed them to close.

He drifted into another one of his many dreamless nights of sleep.

---

He woke up that morning disappointed that he had even woken up at all.

For some reason, his body had persevered through the night. The hard ground caused his entire body to remain sore. At least with his sleeping bag, he had something soft to lay against. He stayed sprawled out on the solid, flat ground, the floor of the patio pressing in on him from above.

He lay there for a few minutes, too tired to get up. He was too weak, barely having enough energy to pull himself to his feet. He didn’t even want to gather his strength sit up. His was shaking softly, his entire body cold and frigid.

He sat up, making sure he wasn’t placing too much weight onto his left leg. He yawned, covering his mouth with his left hand, before glancing around. Sunlight streamed in through the floorboards of the patio, casting their golden lines onto the stone cold ground. He looked around, before he cautiously crawled over to where he had come in. The wooden board was slightly crooked, causing cold air to gush in. He pushed it out once more, and squeeze himself.

He poked his upper body out, before he stood out up and made a move to walk out.

He let out a howl of pain as the nail that stuck out from the plank of wood slashed at his gash on his leg. He stumbled over, tripping over his feet and crashing to the ground, the iced-over ground doing nothing to cushion his fall. He let out a sob of pain, fumbling to scramble to his feet.

He glanced down at his wound.

The gash was mangled and still bleeding slightly. The veins around the wound were visible; blue and purple ribbons noticeable through the skin. He cursed a bit, staring down at the gash in complete disbelief.

Blood poisoning.

“Shit!”

This was bad.

He managed to get to his feet. He was beginning to sweat even though he felt cold, his vision blurring, and suddenly it became difficult to breathe. It felt like there was a weight on his heart, and he had to pant for oxygen.

“Aw, fuck.”

Rae looked around again.

There was a figure walking down the empty streets, their back facing Rae.

They were dressed in a dark black jacket with a white fur trimmed hood, black skinny jeans, and black leather high tongue shoes. There was a dark green drawstring backpack slung over his back. A dark red hoodie was probably worn underneath the jacket, given that the figure had their hood up.

Rae found himself walking forward, his feet and legs instinctively tensing up so that his feet made little noise against the recently cleared path. He grimaced at the feeling, but made no noise. He moved quickly, his hand reaching into his jacket to grasp his fingers around the hilt of his knife. He moved in a crouching position, his eyes wide and concentrated on the back of the person walking.

He squinted in the morning sun, the rays of the star glistening on the snow-banks like glitter. The air was dry and cold, and it only served to make him colder. He shuddered violently, and took an exhale, his breath shaky.

Rae approached them.

He reached out.

He threw his hand forward, his left hand reaching around their neck. He thrust his right hand forward, placing the blade underneath the figure’s chin, the sharp side pressing into the neck.

The figure froze, but Rae didn’t feel him tense up or startle at all.

“Hand me your wallet.” Rae demanded. The figure easily had an extra five inches on him, but it didn’t matter anymore. Rae needed the cash and he needed it fast. He just hoped that whoever he was mugging didn’t decide to fight back.

No answer.

“Hello?! I said, hand the cash over!” Rae shook the figure slightly, but aggressively, trying to emphasize his point. His voice was loud and growly. “Don’t think I won’t kill you!”

The figure calmly turned their head to look over their shoulder.

Rae came face to face with a metallic face.

‘An android?’ Rae startled, and scrambled backwards, his hands removing themselves from the android’s neck. He had heard about them but knew that they were usually in the city. However, there were definitely a few androids living in some of the villages that he had stayed in.

“...can I help you?” It raised an eyebrow— well, its only eyebrow, given that half of its face was silver metal, highly mechanical looking. A red cybernetic eye was on the right side of its face. The left side was dark metal and the eye was normal. A wild mess of white hair sat atop its head.

“Your fucking money, freak!”

A pause.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t carry cash on me. You want me to write a cheque for you or…?” The android shrugged, smirking. His teeth were sharp, reminding Rae of a shark. The android rolled around on his heels, looking around as if daring Rae to make a move.

“Then I’ll dismantle you and sell all your pieces!” Rae shrieked, and charged forward, thrusting his knife forward.

The android moved backwards and kicked forward with his leg. It impacted with Rae’s left knee, jolting the wound. Rae immediately shrieked in pain, dropping the knife and his two hands flew over his wound. He crashed to the ground. The pain was eating its way up his leg, feeling like the flesh had been set on fire. The snow dug into his face, causing him to wince.

“Listen, I don’t want to waste my time on street rats. You have guts for trying this shit on me though, I’ll give you that much. Anyway, see you around.” The android shrugged, before he made a move to turn around and walk in the direction that he had previously walked. He stared down at Rae once more, and his eyebrows creased.

He knelt down beside Rae.

“Move your hands.” The android demanded.

Rae was shaking slightly, curled up on the ground. His eyes settled on his knife, and he made a weak attempt to reach his left hand to grasp for it.

“Son of a bitch. Did you hear me? I want to help you here! Besides, if you pull through without me, I don’t want you to blame me for your injury. Not in the mood to have an angry mob after me.”

“Fuck off, machine! You think I give a shit about what you want?” Rae made a move to shove the android away.

“Of course you don’t give a shit about what I want, but I know that you want to live.”

A pause.

“No.” Rae spat.

“I’ll pay you fifty bucks if you let me help you.”

Rae froze, before he looked up at the android, staring into his red eyes. The android smirked again, knowing that he got to Rae. The human growled before he looked away, hissing angrily and sputtering.

“Are you serious?”

The android laughed.

“Yeah.”

Rae considered for a few moments.

He sighed before he nodded.

“Fine.”

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago rae #ninjago troy #sayijo writes

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twilighteve-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Feather One Divided -- Chapter 2: The Arrival

Fic Summary:

Feather one divided, fate’s ties frayed, Fractured and wedged, scattered and gone.

After sharing an unsettling dream of Felldrake, the Three Caballeros decided to join back together with Xandra to form a stronghold in case the sorcerer returned. But Felldrake’s plans proved to be bigger than they expected, and when he struck so close to home, it was all Donald could do to keep his family – and himself – together.

(Also available in AO3)

(Chapter 1)

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Feather one divided to three,

The emerald, the sapphire, and the ruby.

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Panchito and José came like a storm, like they always did. Donald had told them to contact him if they’d reach Duckburg, but apparently they decided to just show up unannounced at the manor three days before their estimated arrival time, bowling Donald over in an excitable tumble of feathers and giggles, sweeping him into their signature secret handshake and leaving Donald breathless with it.

For a moment, the problem with the dream and his suspected Sheldgoose sighting was forgotten.

“Oh, geez,” Della spoke up, breaking the euphoria that swept over Donald whenever he reunited with Panchito and José. “Last time the handshake wasn’t that long. That seems to get more and more elaborate every time you boys meet up.”

“Della!” José greeted in delight, walking over to her and taking her hand to kiss, causing Della to bark out a surprised laughter. “It’s good to see you, you’re as beautiful as ever – “

Donald dragged him away by the collar. “I told you not to hit on my sister, you big palooka.”

Panchito took his chance and swooped in, hugging Della and getting a surprised squeal. He held Della by the shoulders and asked, “Della! Long time no see, mi amiga! How was the moon?”

“I told you both not to hit on her!” This time, Donald grabbed Panchito and dragged.

“That was not hitting on her! That was greeting her!” José protested. The grin betrayed the hurt his tone would indicate.

“Oh, so I’m not pretty enough for you to hit on, José? Is that it?” Della teased.

“Of course not, Della, minha querida. You are prettier than any white rose – “

“José, oh my god. I will drown you in the pool, I swear.”

“I thought Uncle Donald being put together with Panchito and José is the definition of chaos, but it turns out throwing Mom in makes things even more chaotic,” Dewey commented above the din.

“Oh no, no. If you want chaos, you throw Scrooge in, too,” Panchito told them. “You see, Scrooge – “

Uncle Scrooge stomped down the stairs angrily, yelling, “What is with the ruckus?! Tone it down, you kids!”

“ – is like that,” Panchito continued with a laugh.

Donald sighed. “Sorry, Uncle Scrooge.”

“And I thought you two were coming later this week?” Uncle Scrooge accused.

Donald scratched his cheek. “Uh, about that. I forgot to tell you that they might arrive sooner. Sorry, Uncle Scrooge.”

Uncle Scrooge huffed. “Fine, just keep it down. Gyro’s coming soon to show me some progress on something I asked him to make. I wanted you to see it too.” He glanced to Panchito and José. “I suppose you two can join as well.”

“When is he coming?” Della snatched Donald’s phone from his pocket to check the time.

“Now, if he’s on time,” Uncle Scrooge answered. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. “Oh look, the lad’s on time. Louie, will you open the door for me?”

“Sure, but when Gyro’s around the manor weird things usually happen, so…” Louie shrugged and went to the door. Sure enough, when he opened it, Gyro was there, with Fenton right behind him with a case. Fenton waved at Louie with a cheerful smile, and Louie waved back with a hint of hesitation.

“Hello!” Fenton greeted. “I didn’t think it would be this crowded in the demonstration today. Is the bracelet meant for all of them, Mr. McDuck?”

“Not for these two, but yes,” Uncle Scrooge answered as he pointed at Panchito and José. “Do you have them?”

“And are you sure it’s safe? Because Gyro’s inventions have a weird tendency of getting weird.” Dewey squinted his eyes at the briefcase Fenton held.

“And that’s why we have the beta testing phase, blue nephew,” Gyro told him. He turned to Panchito and José. “Anyway, who are you?”

Panchito snatched his hand and shook it vigorously. “Hola, Donald’s friend! I am Panchito, a good friend of Donald’s, and this is our good friend José!”

José tipped his hat. “We are just visiting. Don’t mind us.”

Fenton’s eyes went wide. “Wait, was that Spanish?”

Panchito turned to him slowly. “…si…?”

Fenton practically lit up and greeted them in Spanish, and Panchito and José both perked up and responded in kind. Donald strained to listen to them; he could understand Spanish and bits of Portuguese that José threw in the conversation, but he wasn’t fluent enough to follow the rapid-fire back-and-forth the three was engaged in. He was pretty sure they’d moved from introduction to… talking about telenovelas? What?

His hunch was proven true when Panchito gasped and turned to Donald. “Donald, you need to drive me to Fenton’s house! I need to meet his m’ma and discuss her excellent taste in telenovelas!”

José gasped dramatically. “I have to argue that! Patos de la Pasión dims in comparison to Las Gemelas and I will fight you on that.”

“Hey, that’s my M’ma’s favorite telenovela you’re dragging through the mud there,” Fenton interjected with a smile.

“My friend, I am not saying Patos is bad. I’m simply saying Gemelas is better.”

Donald rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Telenovelas are basically all about a sexy woman seducing a rich man and having the man’s mom or sister or something arrange the woman to have an accident or poisoning or whatever. Throw in amnesia and getting put in the asylum and you’re gold. You just have to choose to have the sexy woman be an innocent woman who knows basically nothing about real life or a bad one who would do anything for cash, including ditching her perfectly fine and hot but poor boyfriend and seducing a wrinkly old man. It’s just a trope bingo.”

Panchito, José, and Fenton let out an offended gasp at the same time.

“How dare you – “

“Listen here – “

“Okay, first of all – “

Donald rolled his eyes at the onslaught the three directed at him. The edge of his beak pulled into a smile. Panchito and José were always so easy to rile up when it came to telenovelas, but he hadn’t expected Fenton to share that.

“How do you even know so much about telenovelas?” Dewey asked, visibly confused.

“They kept sitting me down to watch them,” Donald answered with a shrug.

Uncle Scrooge cleared his throat loudly, and the chatter ceased. He levelled an unamused stare at them. “As interesting as this thread of conversation is, I would like to see the invention, if you please.”

“Right!” Fenton grimaced in embarrassment and rushed to Gyro’s side, offering a sheepish smile when he glared. “Right, the bracelets are here.” He lifted the briefcase he had been holding and opened it to reveal three bracelets. The metallic material gleamed under the light that seeped into the manor, glinting off the small round glass at the middle of the interconnected metal squares.

“They’re only samples, and they’re all still in testing,” Gyro added. He took a bracelet and handed it to Uncle Scrooge. “As you requested, it has a built-in GPS system and can be used for communication as well as showing maps. It’s powered up by motion and body warmth and is heat proof, water proof, break proof, and can sustain deep sea pressures. I can assure you that this is a very strong bracelet.”

“And it also works as a way to provide light!” Fenton took another bracelet, shook it, and tapped at the glass twice. It lit up brightly, and he tapped it twice again. The light died. “I took liberty to put in the map of Duckburg here for demonstration, and – “ he pinched at the glass and flicked it to the air. Said map hovered brightly in bluish hologram. Fenton reached out and zoomed in and out of the map, turning expectantly to Uncle Scrooge.

Uncle Scrooge hummed in thought, weighing the bracelet in his hand. His gaze met Donald’s, and he gestured lightly. Understanding immediately, Donald walked closer to him and took the bracelet when Uncle Scrooge handed it to him.

“You’re probably the one with the best control among all of you. Can you try raising your magic a little?” Uncle Scrooge requested. When Donald gave him a look, he scoffed. “Oh, these are Gyro and Fenton. They’re not going to do anything with that information. And I know how you are with your friends, they probably already know what you can do.”

Donald glanced at the two scientists, who at this point was staring in confusion. He shrugged and called to the familiar push and pull that rested at the back of his mind and called it forth until his vision was overtaken by the sea blue. The soothing rush of his magic filled him to the brim, and he let out a breath.

In his hand, the bracelet fizzled painfully. He let go of it in reflex, squawking in surprise at the sudden sting of electricity it let out. The bracelet fell, already smoking before it even hit the floor, and the surge of magic receded.

“So it can’t handle magic, after all,” Scrooge mused.

“Well, yeah, tech and magic generally don’t mix,” Donald said.

Fenton let out a laugh. “Good one! Now let me check what was wrong with that bracelet, it shouldn’t have exploded like that.”

“It was magic, Fenton,” Donald deadpanned.

Fenton blinked at him, then laughed again, a little uncomfortably this time. When he realized no one else was laughing, he stopped abruptly. “Wait, was that not a joke?”

“No?”

“But… magic?” Fenton turned to Gyro. “Dr. Gearloose? Is this for real?”

Gyro just shrugged. “I learned early on that anything’s possible with this family. You either accept and adapt or you don’t.”

Fenton blinked at him, then looked down at the fallen bracelet. “…okay,” he hedged, taking the fallen bracelet. “Okay. Um, so we should make the bracelet… resistant? To magic?” he grimaced when he said magic, and at this point Donald couldn’t blame him; he probably found the concept too foreign at this point.

Uncle Scrooge nodded. “And this is why I had you two come here. I don’t know how badly magic can damage your – “ he twirled his hand by his head as he searched for words “ – knick-knacks down at your lab. Here is likely safer.”

Gyro stared at the fried bracelet for a moment, clearly thinking. “We’ll need to record the magic, somehow. Try to measure it. Put a number on it somehow.”

“Oh, I can help,” Huey offered. “I’m pretty much free this afternoon, I can definitely help.”

“Yeah, I want to see how you measure magic, too,” Dewey added.

“Same. Wouldn’t it be kinda boring, though?” Louie glanced at Dewey in question.

“What? No! Magic stuff is never boring.”

“Oh, can I watch?” Webby asked. “I’ve wondered about that, too. How do you measure magic?”

“Wait, you kids have it too?” Fenton asked. Judging from his face, he was clearly overwhelmed.

“Webby doesn’t, we three do,” Huey explained. “We just never showed it to anyone. Mostly because there’s no reason to. Webby’s charms are super effective, though.” He looked around. “Can we do the measuring thing outside? Louie can probably risk doing stuff inside, but Dewey and I really shouldn’t use magic indoors. Something will catch fire.”

“…why?”

“Oh, I have fire, Dewey can make lightning, and Louie can control gold.”

Poor Fenton looked like he was had been blindfolded, spun, and told to hit a watermelon that turned out to be a hornet’s nest by then. “…what?”

“We’ll show you outside, it’ll be easier,” Dewey said, bouncing on his heels. His fingers were already twined with white-blue light, and Donald could see Fenton’s eyes zooming in to his hands.

He smiled and took Panchito and José’s hands. “You kids have fun! I’m going to catch up with Panchito and José. We’ll me in the houseboat if you need us.”

“Have fun, boys,” Della called out as she sent a teasing question through their bond, more or less asking if them catching up would also consist of them discussing steamy details. Donald sent her the mental equivalent of telling her to shove off and ignored her amusement.

The three of them entered the houseboat and settled at the dining table, and Donald stared at them. “Did your amulets suddenly appeared?”

José’s gaze went grim. “It did,” he answered, pulling out the square amulet, the green gemstone gleaming in the sunlight. Panchito mirrored the motion and pulled out his, a triangular amulet with red gemstone. “Where is yours, Donal’?”

Donald stood and went to his bedroom to retrieve the amulet. “Left it in my bedroom. It appeared the night we had that dream under my pillow.” He brought the amulet out and put it on the dining table, the circular blue gem glinting almost innocently. “I still don’t get why this just appeared.”

“The worst thing is that we couldn’t find Xandra,” Panchito huffed. “We tried going to places she might be in, but she wasn’t there.”

“The dream, the amulet appearing… I thought the power of the amulet infused with us when we got into that wizard puddle,” José said with a frown. “And the fact that Sheldgoose might be around in Duckburg is unsettling.”

“I tried looking for him, but I couldn’t find him.” Donald tapped the blue amulet absently, feeling the boost of power it gave his magic. “I don’t like that he went for Louie, too. I guess we’re lucky Funso’s manager got him out of there.”

“You can’t find him, Donal’,” José reminded.

“Well that creep’s nowhere near my kids. That’s a win,” Donald retorted. José hummed and nodded, acknowledging his words.

Panchito frowned. “Tell me what happened again.”

Donald sighed impatiently. “The kids went to Funso’s with their friends and split up there. Louie was alone and apparently Sheldgoose cornered him. I asked the kids again if anything happened, and they said he grabbed Louie by the elbow and he felt magic from him. Something that reminded Louie to space, he said something like it being big and dark and cold.” He leaned back at the chair. “And Dewey mentioned something about it feeling paralyzing.”

Panchito blinked, and in one of the rare moments in his life, he seemed truly disturbed. “That… sounds like Felldrake.”

“See why I’m glad he’s not near my kids?” Donald lifted a brow.

Panchito nodded. “I don’t want him anywhere near, either.”

“In any case, this only makes finding Xandra even more crucial.” José shifted in his seat. “Should we check the cabana? Do you think the girls know how to contact Xandra?”

“April, May, and June?” Donald asked. “I don’t think so. If we can’t contact her, I don’t think they do.”

Panchito let out a string of rapid-fire cursing in Spanish.

“Don’t let me catch you talk like that in front of the kids,” Donald threatened immediately.

“Aw, but I want to be the fun uncle who teaches them the things the straight-laced Uncle Donald would never tell them,” Panchito teased.

“And come on, Donal’, you’re the one with the worst vocabulary out of us three,” José added. “Ah, the things you had me hear when you were really angry…”

“Trust me, I’m tame compared to the others in the Navy,” Donald said dryly. “They meant it when they said sailors have potty mouths.”

“And Xandra taught you several words in multiple dead languages to add to your collection, too,” Panchito sighed. “Your kids will be livid once they start swearing if they know.”

“If they’re smart they will never do it in front of any of us,” Donald said. “But, back to the matter at hand…”

The three of them fell into thoughtful silence, the gears in their brains turning. They were resourceful on their own rights, but Xandra had always been the best one when it came to assembling a plan, unless it was something that needed out-of-the-box thinking like José and Panchito’s telenovela ploy. It probably came with the territory, with her being an immortal and the goddess of adventure and all.

“What if we wear the amulets and activate the magic?” José ventured. “Would that signal to her that we need her help?”

“That will tell Felldrake where we are, too,” Panchito pointed out. “If he’s near and we don’t have Xandra around, we’re finished.”

“But… we can seal him again, with the amulets here. Right?” Donald asked uncertainly. “Last time, it was us who did the sealing.”

“Felldrake would know we’ll want to do that,” Panchito said, shaking his head.

“But we need Xandra and we need her soon,” José argued grimly. “Do you have any other idea? Because if you do, I’m listening.”

Panchito fell silent, and eventually he sighed. “No,” he admitted reluctantly. “Should we do it now then?”

“Yeah.” Donald reached to his amulet, but paused. “Um, I think I should tell you that the triplets and Della all can sense magic, sort of. So we’ll have to be ready to explain about the magic, later. Plus Caballero stuff, if Xandra appeared.”

“That’s okay, I’m fine with them knowing.” Panchito took his amulet, and José did the same. When Donald didn’t, they both stared at him.

“Donal’?” José prodded.

Donald frowned. “Shut up, I’m trying to think about how I’m going to explain the Caballero stuff to my family.”

José blinked. “They don’t know yet?”

“No? Look, I didn’t think there was any chance of us having to face Felldrake again.”

“We’ll help you explain later,” Panchito assured, and let the amulet dangle around his neck before Donald could say anything else. José followed suit, as did Donald, with a sigh.

The amulet had always provided a boost to his magic. The push and pull of the sea rose to a roar, and the magic grew lighter and heavier and the same time, expanding its reach – Donald could feel the pool water starting to respond to his magic the way seawater did, but he knew it would never be the same.

But with all three Caballeros wearing the amulet, the change was visible. Soft light enveloped them – red with Panchito, blue with Donald, and green with José, corresponding with the colors of the gemstones adoring their respective amulets. The hum of something powerful that could almost contain supernovas and black holes breathed power into their feathers, and something inside them stirred. It had been so long that they’d almost forgotten how connected they were to one another, how in sync.

It wasn’t the borderline telepathic bond Donald shared with Della. It wasn’t even the way the triplets’ magic linked so closely to each others’. It was more subtle, but it was undeniably there, with the way they could think so similarly and feed off each others’ energy ever since they first laid eyes on one another[GHL1] .

They only needed to share a glance to understand each other. With barely any effort at all, they raised their magic. Donald’s deep-and-waves mixed with Panchito’s exuberant music and whistles and chatter and laughter and José’s soft guitar plucks among distant jazz and whispered words, growing louder and louder in a crescendo as their magic was amplified by the amulet.

They held the chaotic symphony for a moment, hoping it was enough of a signal to get Xandra’s attention. Then something touched the swirling magic, something big and cold and twined with whispers of a million dying stars, giddy and greedy and hungry. The three of them pulled back on their magic in reflex, eyes blown wide as they stared at each other.

“Felldrake,” Donald breathed.

Panchito nodded as he swallowed. “He found us.” He grimaced. “And so soon, too.”

“It was a risk we took.” José took a deep breath. “If our gamble worked, Xandra would be here at any – “

His words was cut off when something landed on the foredeck of the boat with enough force to sent all three of them tumbling. Donald scrambled to his feet and ran up to the deck, ignoring the sway of the boat, his friends hot on his heels. He skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs, getting himself bowled over as the three of them fell and fell on top of one another. He ignored the pain in favor of looking up to see the familiar raven locks and golden armor.

Xandra, obviously having just landed on the deck, huffed. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “Do you know how hard it is to find you guys? I’ve been trying to reach you for days!”

#ducktales #ducktales 17 #donald duck #della duck #josé carioca #panchito pistoles #scrooge mcduck #Gyro Gearloose #Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webby vanderquack #xandra #dt17 magic au #magic au #feather one divided

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