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taixju · 4 years ago

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Beyond the Realms of Possibility

[Prologue]

CONTENT/WARNINGS: pirate au, pirate! Levi x reader, blood + violence, pirates, mythical creatures, slow burn, romance, eventual smut

NOTES: thank you to @lostcoves for the title idea and @queenofcurse for fueling my levi thirst 😫 and to the both of them for beta reading!! Please show both of their pages some love 💕

SUMMARY: One day your father goes missing, leaving you nothing but his knowledge of the stars and a map of uncharted waters that seemingly lead to the end of the world. You’re left with no choice but to acquire the help of a grumpy, ill-tempered, neat freak of an ex-fugitive. The objective seems clear: Sneak aboard the Titan as a male recruit. Master Celestial Navigation overnight. Find your father’s whereabouts. And don’t get caught. But assimilating to the life of piracy proves to be more difficult than you thought and you find yourself, in more than one instance, steering off course.

September 1740 | The Bard’s Tavern | Present Day

Faint flames from the fireplace illuminate the small but lively tavern. The atmosphere is warm and more than welcoming. Seated at the farthest table you bring the heavy metal mug to your lips, taking small sips of the bitter ale while watching the accordionist play a jolly tune. Humming along absentmindedly, your mind wanders back to your fool of a father who disappeared one morning without a trace. You were surprised to say the least. Living up to his mysterious reputation, he left you nothing but a pouch of shillings and a note, you didn’t find till months later.

Calista,

Go to the Bard’s Tavern. Ask for Kenny. Trust no one. Forgive me, I promise everything will be okay.

With love,

Father

The note left you with more questions than answers and not much to go off of. Although, when your father made promises, it was never a good sign and it was less reassuring when the governor sent soldiers to your home, demanding presence with your father. When they refused to give you a reason for their inquiry, it was then that you decided to disregard your father’s last message and take matters into your own hands. The both of you had lost your mother early on and ever since, you had felt it was your duty to keep your father out of trouble; as he had a tendency to do so.

“Now, what can I get you?” the plump short lady returned, dusting overworked hands on the front of her apron.

“Eggs and toast will be just fine,” you reply, not feeling hungry.

“Nonsense!” she chastised, “You look absolutely famished! How does some bacon sound?”

“Ma!” a young boy peeked out from the kitchen, “We’re fresh out of bacon!”

“Oh darn that boy,” she grumbles, “Connie! How many times have I told you to check the pantry!”

“We’ve got ham!” he yells out again.

“I’ll add some ham to your order, dearie,” she turns back to you with a warm smile.

You thank her and watch her as she walks away to tend to another table. Once she is out of earshot, you reach into your breast pocket, fishing out the crinkled bank notes you received from your family friend. The money would last you months. The Bott’s were like your second family and when your mother died, Mrs. Bott treated you as one of her own.

3 Months Prior | June 1740 | Bott Residence

“It’s dangerous,” Marco, the Bott family’s eldest son, insisted, “Pirates - they aren’t to be meddled with Calista.”

“You saw his study,” you insist, ignoring his protests. You roll out the tattered map that seemingly led to the end of the world, “It has my name on it. He wanted me to find this. Wherever it leads, I’m meant to go there and maybe- for all I know, it’ll lead to him!”

Your friend sighs exasperatedly, “Please rethink this - we can get married, you can settle down,” he grasps your arm gently to stop your back and forth pacing, “Let me take care of you.”

You meet his gaze lovingly. You cared for him - you did. He took care of you when you had no one else to turn to but the both of you knew that you would never love each other in the way he was implying.

“Oh Marco,” you murmur fondly, “We both know; you and I- it’s not possible.”

“It is,” he looks back at you with pained eyes, “We could make it work. I can make the rest of your days happy.”

“And what about Mina?” you counter, pulling your hand away, “Don’t throw your entire life away just to satiate your guilt. I can take care of myself.”

When he falls silent, you know he has accepted his defeat.

“You don’t even know where your father is,” he lowers his eyes tentatively, “for all you know he could be-...”

“Don’t,” you hiss, “He isn’t. I know he isn’t.”

“And you think this Kenny can help?”

“He has to,” you cradle yourself in your arms, “He’s the only lead I’ve got.”

“He’s a retired raider of the seas,” he seethes, disdain seeping with every word, “You heard what the chamberlain said, what makes you think he can help?”

“My father’s last words lead me to him,” you cross your arms defiantly.

“And you also think you’ll find answers wherever this map leads?”

Marcos’s eyes soften at the slight slump in your shoulders. Despite all your efforts to conceal your hidden sorrow, he notices. Although your father was always dragging you into his messes, he was a kind man and did his very best to raise you. But it wasn’t a secret that your father was no stranger to pirates. He wasn’t bound to the life of piracy but instead was a man of science and was well known for his aptitude in navigation. Growing up, he’d always tell you stories of his younger days - full of adventure and excitement, when he sailed the open seas, encountering all sorts of people and magical beings.

“He’s a pirate,” his words stressing on the taboo word, “They pillage, plunder, and care for nothing other than themselves. You think a man like that is going to be of help?”

“Here you go dearie,” the woman returns, placing the warm meal in front of you and interrupting your train of thought, “Dig in! Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Thank you,” the smokey fragrance satiates your appetite, making your mouth water. After taking a few bites, you wipe away the crumbs on the back of your hand. Leaning forward, you are careful so that your next words would be out of the earshot of other customers, “There is one other thing...I’m looking for a gentleman named Kenny, I was told this would be the place to find him.”

The mention of the name startles her causing her to instinctively bring a hand over her mouth, covering her gasp.

“Child...that man is no gentleman. Now, why would a young lass like you be looking for a ruffian like him?” She lowers her voice, “He’s nothing but trouble.”

“Please- I was told he could help me,” you urge, not willing to take ‘no’ for an answer. She sees the determined look in your eyes and then sighs.

“He’s usually the last customer of the night,” she cleans her hands nervously with her skirt, “Although, he doesn’t take too kindly to other people. If it’s Kenny you want to see, you’ll have to wait till closing dearie, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you ma’am,” she isn’t pleased by your request but doesn’t renounce her kindness.

“It’s Mrs. Springer, dearie. Now eat up before your food gets cold.”

The food was more than just a warm meal. It was delicious. Something that you came across on rare occasions. You neither your father belonged in the kitchen. There were many sleepless nights where your father invited you to his library, teaching you all the secrets of the stars and how the twinkling speckles were actually nature’s compass. He’d perch you on his lap, hoisting you high enough to peer through his large telescope, pointing out constellations of hydras, serpants, three headed beasts, demigods, and even the magnificent thunderbolt, belonging to Zeus himself.

1717 | Cornwall Observatory

“Why did I name you Calista?” your father repeats your question absentmindedly as he peers into the dark sky. When he doesn’t reply right away, you perch your chin on his knee, reminding him that you were anticipating his answer.

“Where is she?” He mutters under his breath. A silence falls and you sigh in exasperation, thinking he’s lost track of his thoughts. Suddenly, he throws his hands up in the air with exclamation, “Aha!”

You jump at the sudden outburst but look up at him, matching his excitement. “Come, come,” he gestures for you to stand, “Look here.”

Pinching your left eye, you peer through the large telescope with the other. The sky is vast and freckled with a million stars. Slightly disappointed, you realize that it’s nothing special. Just the same sky as yesterday’s.

“What am I looking at papa?” You ask.

“Angle it slightly to the left- yes just like that-,”he tilts the instrument, helping you out, “There! Do you see that star in the corner? It’ll seem to twinkle a little bit brighter than the rest!”

When your eye catches the extra twinkle, you nod enthusiastically. “That, my dear, is the brightest star in the Calista Constellation.”

The sound of your name causes you to gasp. You? Named after such a beautiful constellation?

“Callisto was a nymph, the daughter of Lycaon, the King of Arcadia,” he begins to explain, with a hint of mysterious wonder, “she was a fighter. A warrior. Stunningly strong yet her beauty could not be matched by any other.”

When he sees your tiny eyes flutter with awe, he continues, “She was a skillful hunter and a loyal follower of Artemis, the goddess of hunt. But alas her downfall was imminent. Seduced by the King of Olympus himself, she was exiled by Artemis, living out the rest of her days as a bear.”

Your tiny worried and furrowed brow makes him laugh boisterously, “Callisto was a misguided soul, not yet sure of herself. But you, Calista, possess all of what that made her good. Remember, your destiny is in your hands. Never forget that.”

The firm grip on your shoulder and his encouraging words elicit a small smile from you. “And if you ever find yourself lost at sea,” he points towards the brightest star in the sky,”Callisto will always help you find your way.”

The distant yet fond memory warms your heart. If there was any chance of finding your father, every sign was leading you towards the sea. And one thing was certain, before he left, he was sure to teach you all that he knew. Pirate or not, you were well equipped to navigate the seas.

After cleaning your plate, you notice that the tavern is still fairly crowded. People are still enjoying their meals and engaging in lively conversations. It would be a while before Kenny showed up. Taking a hearty sip of ale to wash down your meal, you lean back in your chair and stay quiet; making sure not to draw attention to yourself waiting for the moment in which the man of the hour would make his appearance.

Mrs. Springer wipes down the empty tables as Connie goes around to collect the dirty tableware. The tavern is silent except for the clanging of the metal spoons and plates in Connie’s arms. Despite the bustling dinner rush, you notice that Mrs. Springer and Connie are the only people manning the tavern. You stand up to offer your help, grabbing a rag from the bucket, you join Mrs. Springer in wiping the tabletops.

“Young lass! What do you think you’re doing?” she places her hands on her hips in a scolding motherly tone.

“The meal was wonderful,” you give her an appreciative smile. She huffs before snatching the towel from your hands, “It’s the very least I can do for allowing me to occupy a table for so long.”

“There will be none of that. You just go and have a seat,” she guides you back to your original table, “Can I get you a refill, perhaps?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” you try to resist her small shoves but it’s a losing battle. You sit back down and she grins.

“Now I don’t know what your story is and I’m not one to pry into people’s business,” she ignores your answer and refills your mug to the brim, “but anybody looking for Kenny, especially a young miss like yourself, is bound to encounter trouble.”

You heed her words carefully before taking a large gulp of the bubbly brew. The harsh taste makes you exhale harshly, the sharp stench of alcohol invades your nostrils.

“Drink up,” she fills your drink again, “You’re gonna need it.”

And as if on cue, the batwing doors at the front of the tavern swing open. A tall, slender man strolls in. He’s dressed in a dirty linen shirt, a long black waistcoat, and a large hat that hides his face. His steps are staggered, almost losing his footing several times, before he makes it to the bar and takes a seat. A drunkard?

Bringing the mug to your lips, you take one more chug, hoping to gain the liquid courage to walk over and introduce yourself to the stranger.

“...Are you Kenny?” you ask tentatively, taking precautions by sitting a few barstools away.

“Depends who’s askin,” he grunts, “Clara, I’ll have the usual.”

Mrs. Springer places her rag down and nods but hesitantly walks to the kitchen. Before stealing one last glance in your direction, Connie follows.

Ignoring your presence, Kenny removes his hat and begins to pick at a bowl of stale peanuts. The two of you fall into an uncomfortable silence; only the sounds of cracking peanuts fill the room. When you conclude that he isn’t threatening, you take a chance and scoot over to the stool right next to him. He peers over, side eyeing you suspiciously.

“My name is Calista Reader,” you lean forward, anxious to finally receive some answers, “I’m looking for my father, Samuel Reader.”

He raises a curious brow at the mention of your father’s name.

“I was told you’d be able to help,” you look up at him expectantly. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

“Samuel ay’?” he says gruffly, before washing his pickings down with the ale. His nose and lips scrunch up at the bitter taste, before turning upward into a toothy grin, “Ahhhh- good as always Clara!”

“Please!” you beg, trying to regain his attention, “I need your help! He’s been missing for months and I’m at a dead end. He left a note with your name on it- telling me to find you. He said you’d be able to help.”

Mrs. Springer returns to the dining room, bringing out a platter of mysterious looking meat and a heaping pile of potatoes, “Here ya go Kenny.”

“Appreciate it Clara - always do,” he raises his fork and knife, preparing to dig into his meal.

“If you really do, then help this poor young lass,” she knocks the back of his head chastisingly, “She’s Samuel’s daughter ain’t she? You best help her!”

He rubs his head and grumbles, slinking down in his seat but manages to shove a large spoonful of potatoes into his mouth. You turn your attention to Mrs. Springer, “You knew my father?”

“Quite a bit, dearie,” her warm smile returning as she turns towards you, “He was a regular at the tavern. Always bringing over silly trinkets back for my son, Connie. Although, that was when he was just a wee babe.”

It seemed that your father had more secrets than you anticipated. Both Kenny and Mrs. Springer notice the change in your mood.

“Sam is a good man,” Mrs. Springer says, trying to lighten the atmosphere, “Wherever he is now, he knows what he’s doing.”

Kenny continues to shovel food into his mouth, chewing noisily. Mrs. Springer slaps his head again before huffing and turning around to head back into the kitchen, “Call me if you need anything, dearie. I’ll be in the back.”

A silence falls between the two of you once again. Thinking of your father, you gain the courage to speak again, “Please Mr. Kenny- sir, my father is in trouble. He wouldn’t leave so abruptly for such a long period of time-”

“How long?” Kenny interrupts. At this point, he’s finished his meal and picks his teeth with a fingernail, “How long has Sam been missing?”

“After today, it’ll be a little over three months,” you reply sorrowfully, “But he left me this.”

You hand the tattered map from your father’s study to Kenny. He eyes it curiously before opening it up.

“You can read this?” he asks quietly under his breath.

“A little,” you admit timidly, “I’m not much of a cartographer but my father was obsessed with the night skies. Although I’ve never practiced the skill, I picked up his passion for celestial navigation.”

“Obsessed he was,” Kenny chuckles. He runs his fingers along the tattered parchment in awe, “I thought this map was lost.”

“You’ve seen this before?” His comment piqued your interest. Kenny sighs before leaning back to rest his heels on the bar top. He continues to pick his teeth, thinking carefully before answering your question.

“Samuel had a few screws missin’,” he circles his finger in loops. His action makes you raise a doubting brow. It was like the pot calling the kettle black.

You scoff, “My father was a smart man.”

“Now, I didn’t say he wasn’t,” Kenny points towards you accusingly. Swinging his legs down, he leans forward and rests his chin on his hands, “He had the crazy idea that he could sail to the very ends of Earth! But there ain’t nobody sane enough to go knocking on Hades's door like that- nobody but your daddy.”

“What’s at the edge of Earth?” you hesitantly ask.

“Ain’t got a clue,” Kenny throws the rest of his ale back, emptying his cup, “But I ain’t crazy enough to find out.”

His answer makes your head hurt. You still had no idea where your father was.

“But it’s no mystery where he’s gone,” his answer makes your brows raise. What did he mean, no mystery? There was no way that your father would leave you all alone free of his will.

“If you can’t find him on land, there’s only one place Samuel Reader would be,” he chuckles dryly.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” you look at him with desperation in your eyes. You were running out of places to search but uncovered very little information.

“Everywhere but the sea.”

His answer has you at a loss for words. At sea? Despite the way his eyes would light up whenever he retold stories of his exciting youth, he’d always reassured that he was content with his current life. Was he not?

“Then you can help me, right?” you finally regain composure, “You were a pirate-”

“Ah ah ah,” he cuts you off, “Emphasis on the were. I’m no longer married to the seas. I’ve done my time and I vowed to never go back to her again.”

“But my father,” you insist, “he needs your help.”

“Look,” Kenny finally turns to face you. Upon closer inspection, you note that his face is tanned and wrinkled - a mark of a kiss by the sea goddess herself. “I wish I could help you but I can’t.”

“But-” he cuts you off again. “Hold your horses - sheesh, are you really Samuel’s daughter? I said I can’t help, but I’ll introduce you to someone who can.”

September 1740 | An Empty Harbor

The early morning salty air stings your nostrils. The sound of seagulls and the lulling slosh of waves kissing the shoreline rings throughout the dead harbor. There was not a single person in sight. Exactly why Kenny arranged for the both of you to meet at the dock at that time - he wanted to make sure the both of you wouldn’t be seen by unwanting eyes. The heavy fog obscures your vision but as you continue down the wooden dock, you approach the silhouette of a familiar tall man.

“You ready?” Kenny grunts.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply shakily. You did as you were told. You arrived on time and came dressed as a man.

“There’s no way a pirate is gonna let a lass like you on his ship,” you recall Kenny’s wicked laugh, “Come tomorrow, be dressed as a lad.”

“Won’t they notice?” you ask doubtingly.

“As long as ya mind yer tits,” he cackles, “It’s going to be a bitch having to have those bound at all times.” Mrs. Springer is quick to pounce and reprimand the older man for his crude comment.

It was now or never. You stand next to Kenny on the empty dock. Looking around, there’s not a sailor in sight, making you uncertain of Kenny’s promise. The both of you were on the lookout for a single man in a rowboat. He was to take you to the ship of a particular Captain who would be able to help you find your father. The tight bindings cut into your skin causing you to fidget with the hem under your shirt.

“Stop that,” Kenny scolds, “you’ll have to get used to it, otherwise they’ll catch on.”

“But it’s so itchy,” you complain.

“It won’t be when they find out yer’ a lass,” he glances at you, gauging your reaction, “Making you walk the plank might be the kindest thing they do. Most of these men haven’t seen much as yet breathed the same air as a maiden, such as yer’self!”

You gasp at his crude words before you feel your cheeks heat up. Who’s he to be wagering the presence or absence of your virginity? How embarrassing. You open your mouth to complain but his wild cackle stops you.

“Don’t look so startled!” He slaps you on the back, sending you staggering forward. When you regain your footing, you adjust your hat and look back up at him expectantly. “Ha! You’d best get used to it now! It’ll be a lot worse once you get on the ship!”

You peer through the front of your shirt nervously. Was this really going to work?

“Stop thinking so hard,” Kenny shakes his head, “Yer’ just like yer’ father. Always overthinking things.”

“...How did you know my father?” You ask with quiet curiosity.

The tall man let’s his signature cackle whip through the cold but silent air, “He was the navigator on my ship! A great one at that - but don’t tell him I said that, don’t wanna stroke his ego too much!”

“A navigator,” you breathe. So there was some truth to his bedtime stories.

“He told me you were quite a talented gem,” Kenny peers at you from beneath the rim of his hat, “if I were still at sea, I’d invite you to be a part of my own crew!”

A crew? You never imagined in a million dreams you’d be following your father in his footsteps. Let alone be joining a pirate crew. Yet, the one you are waiting for isn‘t Kenny’s, you remind yourself.

“There he is,” Kenny interrupts your thoughts, “get ready now.” You fix your cap, making sure no loose strands of hair will fall, then clench your satchel closer to your side and take a deep breath.

“Farlan!” Kenny greets in a booming voice, “thanks for replying to my letter so quickly.”

“I owe you a favor,” the man named Farlan grunts, “now it’s paid.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Kenny chuckles dryly, “And my nephew? How’s he faring? Still a tiny runt?”

“Big bro is Commander now,” Farlan says almost boastingly.

Kenny scoffs, “Once a runt, always a runt. So what? He didn’t want to come and see his dear old Uncle?”

“Captain Erwin is away on business and it’s big bro’s job to act as Captain of the ship while he’s gone. He’s got bigger things to worry about. Don’t worry though, he sends his regards.”

“Oh yeah? What did he say?”

“Eat shit.”

Kenny let’s put a booming cackle which causes you to jump.

“Oh hell, where are my manners,” Kenny wipes away a tear, “This here is Will. William Knox- the young lad I mentioned in my letter. When you see the shit of a runt, tell him William here has something that might pique his interest.”

Kenny nudges your shoulder causing them to stiffen but nonetheless, you reach into your breast pocket, allowing Farland to get a peek of the corners of the hidden crickled parchment. It was the map that your father left you. Where it led, you had no idea.

“It leads to you know where,” Kenny whispered. Farlan’s eyes widen once he catches sight of the map. His interest was piqued.

“And William here, is quite the talented navigator- I can vouch for him myself. He can take you there,” Kenny shoves you forward and you stumble down, face forward into the small rowboat.

Farland laughs, “Are you sure? Don’t got much of a pair of sea legs, do ya?”

“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly before sitting down properly in the boat. You clear your throat, making sure your voice is an octave lower each time you speak.

When the sun begins to peak over the horizon, Kenny nods to the both of you, “Well that’s my cue. Make sure to take care of young Will here and may Poseidon be on your side.”

Farlan nods as he begins to row away.

“W-wait-,” you call out, almost slipping into the water, “Thanks for everything Kenny! Will I ever see you again?”

His lips turn into, what you interpret as, a small smile. He doesn’t answer your question. But with a tilt of his hat, he turns around and strolls in the opposite direction. As you get farther away from the dock, Kenny’s figure gets smaller and smaller, until it disappears completely into the fog.

The boat ride with Farland was silent but it isn’t long before you begin to see a large ship in the far distance. It’s grandness makes you gasp.

“Beautiful ain’t she?” You nod, gripping onto your hat to make sure the gusty wind did not expose your hidden identity.

When the both of you approach the ship, it’s size is more daunting up close. It’s large hull casts a dark shadow, shielding the entirety of Farlan and yourself from the rising sun. Suddenly two lines are casted from the deck. Farlan’s skillful hands manage to catch both and reel them into the smaller rowboat. He ties one side to each end, tugging to make sure his knots are fastened.

“Pull us up!” he calls out. Suddenly, the boat begins to rise out of the water. You jump, grabbing onto the sides. You were deathly afraid of heights and the towering view of the seascape made you nervous. Careful not to let your emotions slip, you wipe clammy hands on your pants.

When you reach the top of the ship, you are greeted by two men. The taller man is the first to greet you, “Welcome aboard the Titan, kid.”

The shorter man grumbles as he continues to pull the rowboat onto the ship alone, “What the hell took you so long Farlan?”

Farlan laughs, slinging an overly friendly arm around your shoulders, “Kenny wanted to send his regards and he was kind enough to lend us this midget. Says he’s a master navigator.” The irony behind his tone makes you roll your eyes internally. They had no idea what you were capable of.

The short man raises his eyebrows doubtingly. He analyses you up and down then scoffs, “Don’t look like much. I highly doubt the captain needs this mutt’s services.”

His response causes you to huff. Did you hear him correctly? A mutt? Who the hell was this guy? And who was he to slander your skills. Him and his stupid semi-shaven hairdo.

“Disregard whatever Oluo says,” the taller man shoves him out of the way, “My name’s Eld. Welcome to the crew-...”

“William. William Knox,” you introduce yourself. He takes your outstretched hand and shakes it firmly, “The Commander is in his quarters, he’s expecting your arrival.” Farlan walks ahead, motioning for you to follow.

You bid Oluo and Eld a short goodbye then trail behind Farlan, quietly taking in the beauty of the Titan. The main mast is huge, towering over the entirety of the ship with its majestic cream colored sail whipping through the wind. Men run up and down the deck, securing ropes, tying knots, and turning large gears- most likely preparing to set sail.

“Commander Levi is just through these doors,” Farlan adjusts his cap, “He hates tardiness so best not to keep him waiting.”

You watch Farland climb up the large mast until he disappears into the crows nest. You take a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous. All your efforts finally led you till the moment. You’d be meeting the man who could finally provide you with some answers. Gathering up all the courage left in you, you raise your hand and knock.

Taglist: @itskenickie @silver-money23 @astridthevalkyrie @meazrahhh @picklejuiceboba

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi smut #pirate levi #romance #slow build #eventual romance #aot fanfic #aot imagines #pirate au #aot smut

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Twenty

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome to the end of our tale, everyone! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying over the years. I love you so much and appreciate you more than words can say. Here's to 2021, my friends! Ad Victoriam, and stay safe! Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @wrestlingfae, @toxiicpop, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism, @commandershepardshtole, @valkyriejack and @kovu-the-mythical-being. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer

Part Nineteen: Lucky

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains holiday celebrations, brief emotional distress and unprotected sex. Stay safe!]

Time seemed to pass both too fast and not fast enough.

Synths were accommodated, reprogrammed at their wishes or helped to adjust to their new lives. Doctor Amari and the rest of the Railroad had no shortage of work, and Desdemona eventually tapped MacCready and Cait to oversee their caravan logistics back to the Capital Wasteland.

"And the people of the Commonwealth slept soundly, for the greatest monster was gone." Nick had remarked, touching the brim of his fedora in a half-salute. The old detective quickly appointed himself as head of first impressions in Diamond City, making certain that no trouble befell any wayward synth that accidentally wandered in. There was still a lot of work to be done to repair the Broken Mask incident, after all.

New settlements sprang up overnight and while there may not have been total harmony, there was the sensation of the whole Commonwealth heaving a sigh of relief. Recruits flocked to the Minutemen and Brotherhood in droves as Piper's Publick Occurrences spread the word of their successful campaign against the Institute.

Commonwealth boogeyman decimated by combination effort: Brotherhood Of Steel and Minutemen join forces to save Boston from bodysnatchers!

Deacon had effortlessly deflected Piper every time she asked for an interview, the mysterious man more than content to keep the Railroad shadowy. The less everyone knew, the less they could tell, and that suited him just fine. "You did real good, Icebox. Helped a lot of people."

Elder Brandis sought approval to establish a permanent outpost at the Boston airport ruins, the former paladin keen to send the Prydwen back to the Capital Wasteland. "Oh the Prydwen's a fine ship, but put me in the field any day!" The airship, once a proud symbol of the Maxson reign, now served little purpose aside from blocking the sun on occasion. Scribes laughed and played in the massive shadow, kicking up dust until the circle where the litany trial had taken place was nothing but a memory.

X6-88 had floundered for several weeks, the courser falling into a depressive slump that not even Curie could rouse him from. Oddly enough, it was Preston who ended up being able to haul him out of the darkness, the lieutenant making a point to visit the courser to drag him from his room for target practice and other low-effort patrol duties. "Sometimes all folks need is a hand, General."

The courser went on to reluctantly take the role of defective defector, working as a consultant to the Minutemen to help ward off any future attacks by desperate coursers or Institute scientists. Preston found his input invaluable, and the duo could often be found in the lieutenant's quarters poring over threadbare maps and trading tactical information. Preston also seemed to have a calming effect on the synth hunter, helping to blunt some of the cold steel edge that X6 had honed his entire life. Add on to that the constant caring presence of Curie, and they made a strange but surprisingly effective trio.

With the new supply line firmly established between the verdant utopia of Starlight Drive-In and Oberland Station, the strain of the prior lean months finally eased a bit. Faces grew less pinched even with the increased burden of the synths, and many settlers began to tentatively plan for a small celebration in the beginning of the winter.

"'The Holidays' is what they been callin' it, real simple and succinct. Some freaky hodgepodge of everyone's traditions. I guess a lot of folks on that fancy director's board also celebrated around this time of year. Not that the synths would know, naturally." Hancock had muttered, his expression sour. "Poor bastards always workin', and they ain't got fuckall to show for it. Seems like a shit deal."

Elder Brandis granted Danse an extended leave of absence after the toppling of the Institute without the paladin even requesting it, the large man dumbfounded for a moment upon receiving the news.

"If you're up for it, I could use a hand back at Sanctuary." Vega had grinned up at him, her eyes squinting a little under the force of her smile. "A lot of prep work goes into a holiday, after all."

...

Danse had taken it upon himself to retreat from Shaun's previous bedroom when he accompanied Vega and her son back to Sanctuary. He debated heavily on returning to the airport; after all, there was no real reason for him to stay in Sanctuary Hills, at least none that he dared to dwell upon. The few small projects that Vega had to manage were easily accomplished and he was left a bit lost in the wake of the excess of his leave.

Vega, however, had begun framing in what was once the carpark for her house. Sturges helped of course, and once Danse caught on he was touched by the gesture.

"I don't want you to feel like there isn't room for you just because Shaun is back." Elizabeth had said, lugging a chunk of scrap metal from the wreckage of her car.

The paladin had to take a moment, claiming sawdust in his eye as the culprit.

Now Danse lived in the area she had partitioned off for him, uncertain if he still believed he was intruding. Those thoughts were troubling, because if he could get comfortable…

What if Vega eventually decided that Shaun needed a father and what if...what if she chose a real man? Really real, not a sham like Danse was. And if she did, what man would permit Danse to stay? What real man would permit a synth that was currently entangled by these...human emotions to remain on their property, even if Danse proved he wasn't a threat?

What man would believe him if he claimed to have no interest in Vega? Hell, Danse didn't even believe himself.

But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted to tell Elizabeth...well, there were a lot of things he wanted to tell her.

His silence was more of a burden each day, and Danse knew he must seem sullen. It gnawed at him; it felt like lying every time he choked the words back down because it wasn't the right time or he just didn't know what to say, and he didn't trust himself not to say something foolish.

He decided he would wait until after the holiday gathering. Whatever the verdict was, it shouldn't take away from the joy she was clearly feeling over the festivities. So Danse threw himself into helping Sturges, Mama Murphy and the Longs around Sanctuary.

Secretly making a toy truck for Shaun had been a painstaking process fraught with peril. Mainly because Danse was somewhat indelicate and carving tiny wheels had never been his area of expertise. Oh certainly, he could build a survival camp with nothing but a combat knife and time, but a toy...

The paladin had spent countless hours creating prototypes in his cobbled-together room as he pondered the path he should take, sometimes working into the wan light of the morning. He eventually showed the truck to Jun, immensely fearful that Shaun might not enjoy the toy. Danse couldn't recall his own interests when he had been Shaun's age, and thus fell back on the other man's expertise.

"It looks good! Sand the wheels a little more, maybe give it a coat or two of paint." Jun praised the pensive paladin, turning the vehicle over in his hands to examine it. "Kyle loved these kinds of things y'know, trucks and trains and little toy boats." His gaze grew distant for a moment, the rough plaything stilling in his grasp. "Marcy thinks she's pregnant." He said abruptly.

"Pregnant?" Danse repeated without meaning to, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

Jun nodded jerkily. "It's been three months now. She's scared, Mr. Danse, real scared. Thinks something bad will happen."

"What can we do?" The paladin asked sharply.

Jun gawked up at him, seeming confused. "We?"

"I am unfamiliar with this process. What needs to be done?"

"I...I don't follow, Mr. Danse."

"To simplify the duration! What precautions can I-"

"Whoa, hang on." Jun protested. "We aren't sure if the general will even let us stay here with an extra mouth to feed. I've been trying to figure out how to bring up the subject." He admitted.

"You haven't even told General Vega yet?!" Danse squawked.

"W-Well, no! I figured maybe we would...we'd see how the winter went and play it by ear." Jun mumbled, seeming defensive.

Danse seized the other man's arm, heedless of his protests as he hauled him across the front lawn to Vega's abode. Today was the day that Vega had planned to sort through decorations; there were many left over from the fall holiday the Commonwealth had been preparing to celebrate before...well, time had stopped for most when the bombs fell, it was understandable that faded pumpkins and skeletons would still grace crumbling walls with their orangey-cream presence.

Vega looked up from the veritable pile of brittle, salvaged decor in confusion when Danse barged into their...her home, the paladin immediately halting and offering a sharp salute. "Danse! I...uh, what's wrong?"

"Mr. Long has something he needs to discuss with you immediately." Danse informed her, tugging the other man forward.

"I-I...er, General, you…" Jun struggled to speak, twiddling his fingers wildly. "M-Marcy--"

"What's wrong, Jun? Is she okay?" Vega asked, getting to her feet and shooting Danse a worried look. "Did something happen?"

"B-Baby." Jun squeaked. "Pregnant."Backhand went still, her freckles stark against the fresh pallor of her face. "I'm sorry, General, I know we haven't discussed it beforehand a-and I know food's been better as of late...I-I guess she got enough nutrients and got healthy enough for...er, well, you know." Mr. Long looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground. "We should have spoke to you sooner; I don't know if she can leave with the weather being--"

"Wh-Where are you going? Why leave, what?" Vega stammered, "Jun, you can't travel now, if something goes wrong-!"

"We weren't sure if you'd let us stay!" The thin man interrupted her frantically. "This is your base, after all, and you didn't sign on for an extra person to worry about."

Vega inhaled deeply. "Danse, could you give me a minute with Mr. Long?" She requested, her voice suspiciously even.

Danse obeyed, closing the front door gently and meandering a pointed distance down the main thoroughfare so as not to eavesdrop. He had a relatively good idea of how the conversation would go, despite Jun's misgivings. So he wandered down to the huge tree at the end of the cul-de-sac, fiddling with the truck in his pocket absently as he stared upwards at the barren branches.

"Y'know kid," Mama Murphy piped up from her customary chair on her porch and the paladin turned to face her, giving the elderly woman his full attention. "When I had the Sight, I saw this place. Sanctuary." She nodded in the direction of the river, then gestured upwards. "The bridge, and this tree. Massive and old, worn out from all those years." She cocked her head, giving Danse an appraising look. "The tree though, it was...covered in lights. Like what you see in the pre-war mags. The Holidays, shinin' like a beacon of hope at the end of the tunnel."

Danse hummed, the vaguest beginnings of an idea taking root in his mind. He couldn't bring Vega's old life back, but maybe...maybe he could bring something from it back to her. Like what you see in the pre-war mags.

"I think you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, kid." Mama Murphy's smile was knowing, the old woman reaching over to pet Dogmeat. The dog seemed to materialize out of thin air sometimes! "Now get to it."

...

Backhand was already scurrying around the kitchen when Danse rose on the morning of the Holiday celebration, the paladin pausing only momentarily to yawn in the doorway before sleepily offering his assistance. "Is there something I can help with, Vega?"

"Uh, Sturges, he said something about you and stuff from Goodneighbor, I think?" Elizabeth replied, obviously preoccupied with whatever she had in the semi-functional oven. Danse nodded, trudging across the kitchen to tug on his boots by the door.

Shaun bounded out of the bathroom, his face still damp from his morning wash. "Oh, can I help too? Please Mom, let me help Mister Danse and Mister Sturges!" He begged.

"You'd better stay right where Danse and Sturges can see you." Backhand instructed him sternly, one oven-mitted hand gesturing to indicate the gravity of the situation. "Otherwise you're coming straight back inside. Go put on your warm coat."

Shaun cheered in delight, racing back to his room.

"It's okay that he's with you two, right? I know he's not your responsibility." Backhand continued in an undertone to the paladin.

Danse's throat tightened and it took him a moment to respond, "I don't mind at all. He's a very well-behaved child."

"Let me know if he's an issue and I'll bring him back inside. I just need to get this done and the oven is being all-"

Danse stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders, deliberately schooling his expression into something more stern. "General, you're doing a fine job. Stop worrying."

"Am I? Shit, I really hope so." Elizabeth mumbled, tipping her forehead until it rested against his chest. Danse prayed she couldn't hear his heart, hammering merely from her proximity. God, his body was nothing but an embarrassment waiting to happen. "I've never really done this crap. Not sure if I'm cut out for it."

The momentary respite was broken when Shaun reappeared in his oversized flannel and oilcloth jacket, the child bolting past the two adults to put on his boots. Danse reluctantly released Backhand, noting how flushed her face was but not really daring to dwell on it. "I'll...I'll watch him." The paladin said, his voice a bit stilted. "I promise."

"Thank you." Backhand mumbled, wiping her eyes and then returning to coddle…whatever it was in the oven.

"Ready, Shaun?" Danse asked the boy, who nodded rapidly and extended a hand.

The snow outside was still fresh from the night before and Danse took a moment to appreciate the view of the Commonwealth covered in a thin layer of white. Off in the distance, the towering crimson insignia of the Red Rocket gasoline station stood stark against the backdrop of the gray sky. Even further down the road slumbered the empty shell of Concord, the tallest of the town's dilapidated buildings only just visible from the paladin's position.

Shaun tugged at his hand, pulling his attention back to the present. "Mister Danse, Mister Sturges is waiting for us!" The child announced, waving up at the engineer who was currently settled into a crook of the brittle branches that graced the tree on the cul-de-sac island. "Hi Mister Sturges!"

"Howdy fellas! Come to give me a helpin' hand?" Sturges called, grinning down at the two of them.

"What assistance can we offer?" Danse queried, wary that the other man might suggest Shaun climb up to him. His fears were quickly allayed when Sturges instead asked Shaun and Danse to begin untangling the long strands of old lights.

Hancock and his ilk had arrived from Goodneighbor, bearing the gifts of dubious treats and many, many mangled strings of lights. Goodneighbor had always been drenched in neon, after all, so Danse had assumed the ghoul mayor would be the best person to call upon for aid. It would appear that Hancock had delivered in spectacular fashion.

"With your help, we'll have this place lookin' pretty as a picture in no time!"

…

Maybe she had bitten off slightly more than she could chew, trying to cook a traditional dinner. Backhand sighed, glumly poking at the cold poultry with a wooden spoon. Her cooking skills had never been much to write home about in the first place, and this only served to solidify that fact.

"Oh Mum, I'm so sorry. The old oven just isn't how it used to be." Codsworth commented, his mechanical voice tinged with melancholy.

"It's not a big deal, Codsworth. I hate to waste the food, that's all." Backhand muttered, assuring herself that she wasn't fighting back frustrated tears, her eyes were just tired. "Damn thing didn't even get to the warm phase."

"Mum, if I might suggest…?" The robot started hesitantly, carrying on when she nodded. "Perhaps it can be salvaged. After all, we make bread in that same pan by tucking it beneath the hot coals out front. What do you say, shall we give it a go?"

"Got nothing to lose, right?"

"It will be just fine, Mum! You're an adaptive sort." Codsworth remarked, drifting out the front door to stoke the usual cooking fire to life once more. "Indeed, just fine!" He called.

Vega shook her head ruefully. "Oh I'm sure." The woman grumbled. "Can't cook and comes with baggage. What a catch ol' Vega is." At least the bread had come out well, in spite of the brisk weather. She could thank whoever for that small favor.

Once Codsworth had coaxed the embers to life in the fire pit, Elizabeth bundled up and brought the still-cold cast-iron pot outside. Maybe it had been wishful thinking to believe that the oven portion of her stove would still work. Or even heat at all. It had been promising earlier in the week, but this might be a blessing in disguise. If the whole house had gone up due to a cooking malfunction...well, the holidays wouldn't be too happy then, would they?

"Please cook." She begged under her breath, troweling hot coals onto the battered dutch oven lid. "I need this, y'know? Just a little victory, that's all I'm asking for here."

"Shall I get started on the tatoes, Miss Vega?"

Elizabeth nodded, only half-listening to Codsworth. She knew she would have a good forty five minutes to an hour to wait, and it wasn't as if it was colder outside than it was inside. The joys of semi-functional heating!

Vega shook her head at herself after a second, since when did she dwell on everything that Sanctuary wasn't? At the end of the day, it was her home. She wouldn't trade it for the world, and she knew she had much more than most people.

At that thought, her gaze wandered to where Danse and Shaun were. The larger man had Shaun on his shoulders while he patiently unwound a massive bundle of flickering string lights. Shaun, for his part, was passing the untangled lights up to Sturges. The engineer slid down the ladder so he could reach the child, looping the lights over his arm before climbing back up and painstakingly placing them in the gnarled grasp of the tree's limbs.

The manufactured cheer that the lights had given off pre-war was still somewhat there, though the radiant colors were washed out to pastel and the warm whites had gone dingy gray. Instead of it being a melancholy reminder that her life had changed irreparably, Backhand was overcome with gratitude. For her son's safe return, regardless of his synthetic makeup, and for the man who was currently carrying Shaun on his shoulders. For her home, for her family.

A family.

Perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself. After all, Danse was still adjusting to life in ordinary time. It would be selfish of her to voice her feelings to him while he was coming to terms with everything that had happened. For better or for worse, their lives were different now.

It ought to be enough that he was in her life at all. She should be content. His presence alone was a miracle; for all intents and purposes he should be dead. Yet there he was, mere feet away, helping to brighten up the holiday celebration.

Tonight there would be a multitude of visitors. God only knew how many would arrive from settlements near and far, to say nothing of Goodneighbor, Diamond City, the Prydwen and the Castle! It would be an incredibly busy evening for certain. Hancock had arrived early with a posse of ragtag drifters from Goodneighbor, all of them offering gifts of food or scavenged ornaments to decorate. Hence the massive mound of lights that was currently being diligently sorted through.

The aforementioned ghoul appeared to have delegated the task of quality checking the lights, as his form currently leaned against the faded blue siding of her house. With cigarette smoke wafting from his mouth and nasal cavity in equal amounts, he seemed content to just watch the chaos unfold.

"Aren't you a little chilly?" Backhand queried, raising an eyebrow. The mayor was still clad in his usual garb of...for lack of a better term, repurposed period dress. Granted it wasn't seasonably cold out, at least not like how she remembered it being before the bombs dropped.

"Nah, we ghouls run pretty warm. Ham's like a portable space heater." Hancock answered, giving her a lazy grin. "Cute of you to worry, though. I must be growin' on ya'."

"Whoa there, let's not get too crazy."

"Whatcha' think, General?" Sturges shouted from his perch, waving to get her attention.

Danse turned in place, appearing to realize that she was watching as his hands flew up and grabbed Shaun's legs, stabilizing the small boy on his shoulders.

Backhand couldn't keep from smiling when she called back, "it looks wonderful! Keep up the great work!"

"That ain't the only thing that looks wonderful, right Sunshine?" Hancock snickered, rolling his eyes at the now-sputtering woman. "You better give the Brave Little Toaster the ride of his life, that's all I gotta' say."

"Hancock!" Vega hissed, making a half-hearted swipe at the mayor. "You fuckin'--"

"Ah ah, little pitchers!" Hancock scolded, tilting his head to the side to draw Vega's attention to the rapidly-approaching form of Duncan, MacCready's son. "Gotta' watch that mouth of yours, Sunshine."

"This ain't over, ya' raisin-lookin' bastard." Backhand snarled under her breath, pasting on a friendly smile for Duncan while Hancock wheezed with laughter. "Hey bud, how's things?" She greeted the child, who grimaced.

"Dad's kissin' Miss Cait again. S'gross." The little boy announced, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"That does sound pretty gross." Hancock piped up before Backhand could reply. "But you like seein' your old man happy, right? The lady makes him happy. Simple as that."

"Yeah, I guess. Can I play with Shaun?" Duncan asked Vega, eyes wide as he seemed to take in the tree covered with lights.

"Go ahead, kiddo! Just be careful and stay away from Sturges' ladder." Elizabeth warned, grinning when the little boy took off with a whoop.

Cait and MacCready strode up after a moment, both of them red-faced. MacCready bent double, his hands on his knees. "I'm not built for these bullsh--awful conditions." He panted. "I don't know how the kid does it. He was nearly dead a few months ago and now he's out here kicking the snow in the a--er, butt."

Backhand glanced around, and then snorted. "You call this snow? It's a dusting. Back before-"

"Ah ah, easy now Mumsicle, we ain't got time for yer trip down memory lane." Cait teased. "Work to be done, aye? C'mon then, General, shape up. What you doin' on the ground anyway, all crouched like a mother hen broodin'?"

"I'm cooking." Vega replied tersely.

"Oh aye? Looks like yer shirkin' t' me, love. Codsy can manage that mess, c'mon." Cait seized her elbow, levering her up out of the snowy grass. "Now, what needs doin'?"

...

The day was a whirlwind of arrivals, preparations and well wishers. Elder Brandis even stopped by briefly, taking precious time away from his all-consuming duties to distribute some useful supplies and catch up on the gossip.

The Diamond City trio graced Sanctuary with their presence shortly before noon, Nat scurrying off to play with Duncan and Shaun while Piper made a beeline for Hancock's merry band. Nick was more keen to meander around the outskirts of the groups forming, amber eyes taking in his surroundings.

Preston appeared midafternoon with X6, Curie and the entire O'Brian clan in tow, later than expected but apparently they had stopped to help out a settlement along the way.

The cul-de-sac soon rang with the laughter of the rambunctious children; even little Siusan was permitted to briefly toddle about in the trampled snow under the watchful gaze of Eamon. The weather was chilly but the sun had broken through the clouds throughout the day, sending momentary waves of brilliance across the Commonwealth.

Every table and chair that could be salvaged had been assembled on the old foundation at the end of the cul-de-sac, and it was there that the adults began to gather as the sun set. Metal drums loaded with wood were lit, providing heat and illumination to the many guests of the Commonwealth's first official potluck dinner.

"Or rather," Piper amended, clearing her throat with a touch of self-importance as she tapped her notepad, "the first documented official potluck dinner."

The large tree twinkled and shone in the fast-approaching darkness, the occasional flicker or broken bulb doing little to diminish the cheer it provided. The food was distributed, Backhand's roast chicken disappearing without a hitch. The young woman couldn't help doing a mental dance of victory, delighted that Codsworth's quick thinking had saved that particular endeavor.

Vega found a place to sit somewhere in the middle of one of the many long tables, red from the praise of her companions and the persistent chill in the air. She got even redder when Preston loudly proclaimed a toast, to the General!, her lieutenant tipping his bottle and everyone else following suit.

"I remember when I first met the general, she was half-dead on her feet." Preston began the story, his smile fond. "Sturges couldn't even believe our luck. Hell, none of us could. When freedom called, our general answered!"

Backhand, who had lived the story and knew all the ins and outs, found her attention wandering to Danse while Preston regaled the crowd with his tale. The paladin seemed to be listening closely, his meal forgotten. Deacon even began to thieve bits of chicken and tato out from beneath his nose, the Railroad agent shooting Vega a sly wink over his sunglasses.

Backhand shook her head at the other man's antics, then focused her attention on Preston. "...'Lurk queen, a huge, mean seabug, taken out by landmines! The Castle was ours once again, and we all had General Vega to thank for it." The lieutenant stated firmly. "The one who can get things done in the Commonwealth, the one who gave folks hope when it was in mighty short supply. We uh, we owe you a lot, ma'am." He raised his bottle once more. "To General Vega, leader of the Minutemen!"

"To Elizabeth!" Hancock yelled, echoed by half the damn populace as Vega tried to wave it off, the young woman laughing awkwardly. "To our Sunshine, the hero of the Commonwealth!"

"Synth savior, a regular knight in shining armor." Deacon teased.

"Well done, General Vega." Danse said warmly, "I can't know for certain whether the Brotherhood itself would be proud, but I certainly am." His praise for whatever reason made Vega's blush feel like it would scorch her skin.

Oh she knew damn well why, she was just being willfully oblivious at this point.

"Speech! Speech! Is that not zee norm for zis sort of occasion?" Curie called, the diminutive synth currently sharing X6-88's coat as well as his plate of food. X6 didn't seem to have any reservations about the matter, his arm slung around her shoulders without a care in the world.

Much to Vega's chagrin, the majority appeared to be in favor of such a vocal endeavor. She attempted to laugh off the suggestion to no avail, and finally got to her feet. "Alright, alright, settle down. I'll say a few words if it'll get you all off my damn back." She grumbled, her body thoroughly warm now with a combination of embarrassment and gratitude. "I uh…"

Vega trailed off as she looked out over the ragtag gang of expectant faces staring back at her. So many friends and neighbors, finally getting the chance to breathe. The chance to celebrate the fruits of their labor...it was sobering.

"I can't thank you all enough for...well, for everything that you've done. You all sacrificed so much for this peace, stuff I could never imagine doing even before the bombs dropped." She cleared her throat. "My mentor, Sergeant Shaun Cathan, was a great man, and he often had some very succinct or choice words which I'm not about to repeat in polite company."

"Aw c'mon-!" Zeke began to protest loudly, his voice fading as he noticed the small gaggle of children still gawking at his power armor.

Backhand continued, her jaw set firmly, "but one thing I can say that he told me is this: a leader who permits their pride to impede their decisions is doomed to failure. Pride built the Institute, and that same pride rotted it to the core. Pride built the Brotherhood of Steel, the Minutemen, and we've seen the both of them nearly toppled." Vega clenched her fist. "Pride brought nuclear fire down on Boston, but people hauled themselves outta' the ashes of that fire. Good people, tough people. Folks I knew. Folks I cared for, even if some of 'em did spend a little too much time on the Cape. If pride can do so much effin' harm, I expect simple compassion and decency to do just as much good. Hell, more than that. Humanity's built itself back up after the cluster that was armageddon, and we ain't through yet."

She tipped the jar she had been drinking out of towards the crowd, sternly studying the collection of scavengers, families both new and familiar.

...

"So here's to you, my friends. To all that you've done, and to all that you will do."

Vega's salute was rigid, pre-war. Like her helmet on the table beside her, scraped and covered in faded sigils. The mixture of candlelight and the lights on the tree reflected off the worn lenses of her glasses, shielding her eyes from view. Danse wished desperately that he could see her eyes; more than anything he wished to stand up and flat-out state what she had done for him to every soul there, display his...admiration.

Was that even the right word? Admiration, adoration, affection--

His face was strangely warm all of a sudden. Danse flinched, staring down at his mug of coffee with single-minded intent as the buzz of conversation around him picked back up. His mind raced, pieces falling into place in a nigh-unstoppable rush.

Affection. Like...what he had felt for Cutler? Almost. A little to the left of that. Brighter.

Happier.

Not perfect, nothing could ever be perfect. But...

"Elizabeth Vega?" A male ghoul's voice barely penetrated the paladin's consciousness, his words not really registering until, "Beth, it really is you!" The ghoul exclaimed. "I thought I was crazy! It's me, Beth. It's Nate."

"...Nate?"

Danse's head whipped up so fast his neck popped in warning, the paladin having been only tangentially aware of the conversation happening mere feet away from his position. But at that particular nickname his entire being snapped to attention, eyes darting sidelong from where he had been intently studying his mug of coffee.

The ghoul man that Vega was currently speaking to was an inch or two taller than her, with a single tuft of dark hair that still remained over his left ear. He appeared absolutely delighted, but Vega seemed...wary.

"Beth," Danse heard him say once more, and he watched Backhand visibly tense. "I never thought I would see you again! After the bombs dropped--I mean how the hell did...is that Shaun? God, he got so big!"

"Nate, is there something I can do for you?"

Nate.

Danse's breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry. Nate? Nate her ex-husband from before the war? Nate, the man who had divorced her once he found out she was pregnant with his child?

Somehow he had managed to survive?

Oh, what an incredibly bitter thing to think! Danse was somewhat startled by his own dark path of reasoning. But it wasn't untrue; his mind railed at the unfairness of it all.

The paladin stood up, his mug of coffee forgotten. He wasn't exactly certain what he was about to do, but he also wasn't going to do nothing. He cast around wildly for a plan as he approached Elizabeth from behind around the table, and Danse latched onto what was probably the least intelligent course of action that he could have conjured up.

"Elizabeth," the paladin called, loud enough to be heard over the general hubbub. She turned and Danse briefly spied a look of intense relief on her face before he enveloped her in his arms. "You appeared cold, figured I could warm you up a bit." He reasoned aloud, smiling benignly over her head at Nate. "Who's this?"

Vega began to introduce him even with her face still comically buried in Danse's chest, "Nate, I'd like you to meet-"

"Paladin Logan Danse, Northeastern chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Danse interrupted her smoothly, extending a hand to Nate. "I've heard a great deal about you, Nate. It's a privilege to meet you, and a welcome surprise to see that you endured the radiation."

"Uh, is it? Well I-I guess it is." Nate looked flummoxed and crestfallen all at once, glumly shaking Danse's hand. "I suppose you two are, er..."

"Vega is my partner, yes. For over a year now." Danse replied once the other man had trailed off, his tone saccharine-sweet. He heard Vega gasp against his chest. "She is a truly incredible woman. I'm immensely lucky."

"Yeah, I...yeah. Uh, I have to go...talk to--I'll see you later, Beth." Nate squeaked, sidestepping away from the two of them and making a beeline for the road.

"I can't even believe it." Backhand's voice grated with tangible irritation. "I cannot even fuckin' fathom--I...dammit, why him?!" She seethed into Danse's jacket, clenching her fists on his hips. "Phew, boy, I sort of thought I'd already dealt with all that resentment." The woman admitted unhappily.

"You do things in your own time." Danse replied quietly. "Are you alright?"

Vega went still for a second. Danse felt her unclench her fists, hands going slack on his body. Had he misspoken-?

"In my own time, huh?" Vega muttered, almost like she was thinking out loud. "I...I'll be back in a little while, Danse."

…

I'm not panicking. Definitely not panicking. One hundred percent not panicking, totally fine.

Backhand scurried away from the paladin, trying to hide the tell-tale redness of her face. She needed to find either Mrs. O'Brian or MacCready, fast.

As luck would have it, MacCready found her. The former merc tapped on her shoulder as she bounced up on her tiptoes to search for Mrs. O'Brian. "Hey boss, Shaun wanted me to ask you if he could sleep over with Duncan tonight." The man began after she whirled around to face him.

"Yes." Vega replied, perhaps a little too quick and definitely too enthusiastic. "Mac you're a lifesaver, I was just about to ask-"

"-for me and Cait to watch your kid so you and the tin can can get some alone time?" MacCready smirked, giving her a wink. "Dang General, I don't think I've ever seen you so red! Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Shut up, Mac, you're so exasperating." Backhand jabbed a teasing finger into the center of his chest. "You talk, Mayor, and I'll know." The threat was toothless; the both of them grinned at each other after their fierce staring contest. "Thanks for everything."

"Don't mention it. I figure getting you some Brotherhood...uh, Steel, heh, is a pretty decent way to make up for the fact that I didn't bring you a present." Mac shrugged, fiddling with the bill of his hat. "I have beef with the Capital Brotherhood, but these guys...I mean, they don't seem all bad." He allowed grudgingly, giving Vega a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Go on."

A bracing shot of whiskey shored up her tenuous spark of confidence and Vega marched back to Danse, the large man now engaged in conversation with X6 while Shaun, Duncan, Bridget, Nat and Matthew swirled around their ankles.

Danse was saying, "--collateral ramifications would be inadvisable, I suggest a soft breach. With adequate preparation-"

"Adequate preparation on your part borders on over-caution." X6 interrupted him dismissively. "However, I will take it into account and speak with Preston on the matter. He seems to share your morality. A pity."

"Play at the unfeeling machine all you want, X6." Danse retorted. "It does you no favors. You have people who care about you now, and you would not have asked for my input if you believed the endeavour would be futile."

"True enough, Paladin." The vaguest hint of a smile tugged at X6's mouth. "You are capable."

"I suppose that is the best that I can hope for."

"Hey, Danse? Can I uh, have a little chat?" Backhand asked, stifling a hysterical giggle when Danse immediately looked guilty. The paladin nodded, bidding X6 farewell and attempting to sidestep around the children who were currently playing tag in an ever-tightening circle. "Not um, here though. Let's go to my house, okay? Shaun, you're all set to stay overnight with Duncan, Mac and Cait, right?"

"Yeah!" Shaun replied breathlessly, pausing in his chase to give his mother a massive grin. "Already brought my blankets over and everything. Mister MacCready said Duncan and I could sleep in their wagon, and that he'd tell us Grognak stories!"

Danse's brow furrowed. "We are leaving the gathering, then?" He asked, looking a bit distressed when Elizabeth nodded. "A moment, please." He turned back to the children, calling for Shaun.

The boy bolted away from the group, skidding in the muddy slush. "Yeah, Mister Danse?" He asked, his impatience plain.

"I, er. I...happy holidays." The paladin mumbled, extracting a small bundle from his jacket pocket and giving it to the child.

"Whoa, for me?!" Shaun practically crowed, tearing through the old newspaper to reveal the gift.

It was a sturdy carved vehicle, its edges sleek and smooth. The wood was coated in shiny green paint, giving the little truck a distinct air of newness in this post-apocalyptic world. Danse swallowed audibly as Shaun stared down at the toy without saying a word.

Backhand closed her eyes, hoping and praying that the kid remembered his manners. She hadn't even known Danse had planned on giving him something. Did he make the truck himself? It was wood, not the usual plastic or aluminum of pre-war children's toys. When had he found the time to make a toy? She suddenly remembered his uncharacteristically wide yawn that morning and her eyes flew open, darting to look at Danse. He had been staying up, hadn't he?

"I love it, Mister Danse!" Shaun interrupted her mental panic with his enthusiastic eruption, smiling wide and bolting forward to hug Danse around the waist. Danse's own relief was evident, the large man patting the child on the back with an awkward chuckle.

Oh Jesus, I'm not going to cry, Vega insisted, taking a deep breath. Nope, won't do it.

"Mom look, look what Mister Danse gave me!" Shaun exclaimed, as if she hadn't been standing right there the whole time.

"It's really cool, right?" Backhand grinned, rumpling his hair and then giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth before bed, okay? I hope you and Duncan have fun. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom, I will. Thank you again, Mister Danse!" Shaun rushed to say, clearly eager to return to his friends.

"Alright, go on." Vega tapped the end of his nose, "go have fun." She watched him scramble through the slush, nearly tripping again. "Jesus, he's a bull in a china shop," she sighed, making Danse snort. "Shall we, Paladin?"

He fell into step beside her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his back ramrod straight. He was silent until they were actually in Elizabeth's living room, the young woman barely able to shut the front door before he started babbling, "if I offended you earlier, if I-I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I just recalled what you had said about the name he used for you and I'm afraid I started moving before I could reconsider-"

"Danse, do you remember how we started all of this?" Vega cut off what promised to be a downright incredible justification, cocking her head to the side. "How we met, and what happened?"

"You came to our aid at the Cambridge police station. Then you carried on assisting me with our mission. You helped acquire the deep range transmitter. You greased my armor." Danse paused, fidgeting. "You...said it was alright if I wanted to kiss you."

“It’s alright if you want to kiss me, you know.” Her smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Vega nodded, smiling once more. "The offer still stands, naturally."

"I...things are different now. I'm different. You still...even now, after everything that you know about me?"

"Of course."

"I didn't want to believe you felt that strongly about our...about us." Danse was smiling, actually smiling! "I'd given up hope a long time ago that I would ever be enough for anyone. I was never...enough. Smart enough, or strong enough or...well, just enough, I suppose." He shrugged, his smile fading. "With what happened between Maxson and I, and previously with Cutler…" The large man trailed off.

Vega took a deep breath, nodding furiously. "I do feel strongly for you. Danse, I know that this is a lot, b-but I...uh, I think I love you." She gestured up and down at the speechless paladin, feeling the heat that bloomed fresh on her cheeks. "Not just the wrapping, y'know, but uh. The whole package. You."

His look of shock and confusion slowly dissolved into something unreadable, and he broke eye contact for a moment to stare down at his boots.

"Uh, it's okay if you don't reciprocate! O-Or even if you can't reciprocate, I'm not going to be offended!" Elizabeth rushed to add, waving her hands nervously. "I know that this is a lot to dump on you all at once, I-I'm sorry. I don't want you feeling pressured to give me an affirmative answer just because you don't want to hurt my feelings or whatever."

"I...I can't say that I haven't thought about it." He admitted softly. "But Shaun, he needs--Vega, I'm not really human."

"Neither is Shaun, but I don't love him any less." Elizabeth replied. "Shaun is my son. For all intents and purposes, he is my real son, Danse."

"It's one thing to overlook it for a child, Vega. But I'm...what if something goes wrong with me? What if there's some sort of fault in my programming, and that's why I'm like this? What if-"

"It's alright if you don't want me, or even if this is too much right now. I know, it's a lot." Vega interrupted him, her heart sinking but determined to make damn sure he didn't feel pressured.

"Christ, that's not what I meant. I just want to make certain you know exactly what it is that you're agreeing to." Danse cut her off, his shoulders rigid like he was bracing for impact.

"I understand, Danse. I've understood for a while now." Elizabeth dared to rest her hand on his arm. "I want to be with you. I know that nothing in this shitshow of a future is guaranteed and I want to have something good in my life before my inevitable demise at the hands of some overconfident mole rat."

Danse nodded stiffly, and then grabbed her by the lapels of her canvas coat. Vega found herself abruptly pinned against the wall, Danse's mouth hungrily seeking her own. "You mean that?" He panted.

The brush of the stubble on his face reminded her of their first kiss in the Cambridge station and drove home the differences between he and Nate for the hundredth time. Nate was always clean-shaven, favored pecks on the cheek and lived saturated with cologne. But Danse was grizzled, earnest, reeking of the outdoors and power armor grease. Nate had been eloquent, while Danse was taciturn or tripped over his words. Nate was cold and calculating, and Danse…

Danse was fiery and raw, more vulnerable now than she could ever recall him being before. His knee nudged against her thigh and without conscious input, Elizabeth parted her legs for it and threw her arms around his neck to try to urge him even closer. "Yes, Danse," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, yes, fuck-ing shit--"

She ground herself down against his leg, relieved that everything seemed to be functioning normally and somewhat impressed by her body's ability to mount such a rapid response after a two hundred-plus year dry spell!

"Language," Danse rumbled in reply, his hands tugging her heavy coat off of her shoulders. "Too fast?"

"No, hell no!" Backhand protested, "not fast enough."

"Shh," Danse rested his hands on her hips, shoving up her shirt slightly so he could touch bare skin. "I have you, Vega." Vega pushed herself excitedly into his grip, grinding on his thigh and arching her back. The way his breath hitched sent shockwaves to her core; the way he watched her...

"Danse we should...we should-" Vega's voice wavered as Danse laved her throat with tender kisses. "-should--bedroom, bed."

"Yes." The paladin growled, making no move to actually follow the direction. That is, until he hoisted her up to rest on his hips.

Backhand yelped, her thighs gripping his sides tightly. "H-Hey!"

Danse pressed his forehead to her own, brown eyes attempting to read her soul. "Elizabeth…" he sighed, his expression gone hopelessly soft. "I should warn you, if we...if you do this, I...listen, I can be a little--a little wordy, sometimes. If I am speaking too much-"

"Hey, no, you talk as much as you'd like, okay? Doesn't bug me at all." Vega assured him, slightly curious about what this might mean. Wordy?

"Elizabeth, you are everything that I never knew I was looking for." Danse murmured. "When I lost Cutler, I didn't think I deserved to be happy again. I assumed that my failure would continue to darken any future triumph, and when the majority of Gladius was...I feared that I was unfit for my rank. How could anyone have faith in my skills after such a catastrophic loss of life?"

"It's hard being the one making the choices. You have to be able to bear the burden of responsibility and also the burden of guilt." Vega reasoned, sympathizing with his plight.

"You had faith in me, though. You didn't even know me, but you didn't judge me for my inadequacy and you allowed me some damn peace. I'm just sorry you had to go through that abuse at Maxson's whim for my sake." Danse cupped her hand in his own, pressing kisses to her scarred knuckles. "You've already done so much for me, Vega. Let me undo you?" He offered seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I uh, I-I can't say I've ever been propositioned quite like that!" Backhand stuttered, certain that her flush covered her entire body at this point.

His laughter, heard so rarely, washed over her like a tidal wave. "Forgive me."

"Only if you keep asking me to have sex like that." Vega shifted her hand in his grip, intertwining their fingers. "C'mon, bedroom."

"It's not just that." Danse tried to protest, shaking his head. "I care about you. About your wellbeing. I want to make you happy."

"You do. So happy. I'm so glad that you're here with me still." Vega turned in the doorway of her room when he set her down, seizing Danse by the collar of his worn t-shirt and tugging him into her arms. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Danse."

"You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that."

"It's the truth, though!" She insisted.

Danse surged forward, his kisses still rough and demanding as he fought to claim her affection. But she gave it freely, all he could ever want and more.

He stripped her of her shirt and dragged his own off over his head, chuckling at the way she greedily drank in the bare skin he presented. "See something you like, General?"

He was hairier than she was used to, but Backhand decided it suited him. Nate, after all, had been absolutely adamant that body hair was grotesque, and now look at him. He'd likely never have to worry about that again.

Thinking of Nate yet again put a frown on her face and Danse paused, giving her a quizzical look. "Is something amiss?"

"Oh! No, I'm sorry. I was just remembering. Nate was all…" Elizabeth gestured vaguely at Danse's chest. "He shaved everything. I'm not used to all...well, seeing so much."

"Is it off-putting? I assure you it's within the Brotherhood's hygiene guidelines, but if you don't like it I-"

"No, I love it. It's new. I've seen your arms, after all, I knew what I was getting into." Vega teased, grinning to ease his worry. "If you can accept all my stretch marks and leftovers, I can definitely handle your chest pelt."

"I'm planning on doing far more than accepting." Danse cradled her breasts in his palms, the paladin lowering his head to draw his tongue over one of her nipples. "I don't care." He soothed when Elizabeth tried to stammer out something else in regard to her stretch marks. "I don't care. It doesn't make you any less desirable to me, Elizabeth."

Vega squeezed her eyes shut, kissing his forehead as he continued to cautiously rouse her peaks until they were stiff and aching for more. Then his thumbs took over, stroking in slow, firm circles that made her quiver from head to toe. "You...you're really good at that." Elizabeth said faintly.

"I'm pleased you think so." Danse grunted when her fingers found his belt buckle. "It has been a significant amount of time for me as well, I...my excitement may be a bit obvious." He admitted, his smile sheepish.

Vega's breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling as she struggled to draw down the worn zipper of his jeans. The underside of his cock throbbed against her palm when she dared to slip her hand into his briefs, his skin searing and smooth.

Danse huffed out a breath, crumpling a little at her tentative touch. "Elizabeth," he groaned, hiding his face in her neck as he rolled his hips eagerly into her hand.

"Keep saying my name like that." She ordered, laughing when the paladin nodded rapidly into her shoulder. "I love you, Danse."

...

Danse rumbled again, words failing him while Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around his cock. This seemed like a dream, another one of his fantasies brought into being. He couldn't seem to do anything aside from stare down at her hand.

"Hey, Danse?"

He jerked to attention, eyes flying up to meet her own guiltily. "Y-Yes, Vega?" He stuttered.

"Do you...uh, y'know." Backhand fumbled to undo the button on her jeans. "You can, if you'd like." She finished awkwardly.

No sooner had she given him permission than Danse was pulling her hand out of his pants, urging her backwards onto her bed even as he kissed her battered knuckles again. "Yes." He grated out, kneeling to untie her boots so he could get her pants off. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

"A for enthusiasm, big guy." Elizabeth teased, lazily fingercombing his short hair back. Her veneer of composure was shattered when the paladin eased her underwear down her legs, the young woman covering her face as if she was embarrassed. "Listen, just uh, go easy on me. It's been over two hundred years, after all." She reasoned weakly.

Danse swallowed hard. Cutler had always praised his dirty talk, the calculated way he could take apart a person with his words and touch alone. Maxson hadn't appreciated his speech, granted, but perhaps…

"You're saying you don't want me to bury my fingers in you, Elizabeth? You don't want me to open you up, work my way into that beautiful, flushed little cunt of yours?" Danse rasped, two fingers tracing lightly on her pubic mound. Her cesarean scar was faintly visible, and he felt a brief flare of concern before recalling that was indeed where the scar was from.

"Oh, Jesus. Okay." Vega gasped, blue eyes wide in what Danse could only assume was shock. "Keep that up and you won't have to worry about using anything else. Fuck, Danse, have some pity here." She pleaded, burying her hands in her hair.

"Language. Do you deserve my pity? How would you earn it?" The paladin queried, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her mound now.

"I can be good, Paladin! I can be really good. So good." Her breathless use of his title had Danse's cock pounding, though he tried not to make it obvious. "Please Danse, please touch me…"

Danse climbed up onto the bed alongside her, gently parting her labia with his fingers. "You'll be good for me, Elizabeth?" He asked, propping himself up with an elbow.

"Yes, please."

She had wonderful manners. Danse grazed her clit and her breath stuttered, the paladin spreading the liberal lubrication that she had already created with deft, slow strokes of his index. "Please, what?"

"P-Please...Danse."

He cautiously eased one finger into her, exhaling raggedly when her hand sought out his cock. "Vega-"

"Shh, let me." Elizabeth hushed him, her smile a little dreamy as Danse crooked his finger and rubbed in just the right spot. "Oh, f-uck, Paladin, you--"

"Language, Vega. Can't have you being a bad example while I'm knuckle deep in your cunt." Danse admonished, groaning when she whimpered. "You're so tight, this could take ages. We'll need to come up with some stretches to cope with this." He teased gruffly, sliding in another finger and spreading her open. "Mm, Elizabeth, you need to relax. Relax." He murmured, latching onto her breast.

He felt her pussy clench down around his fingers and he took a greedy suckle from her breast, making Vega cry out his name, "Danse!" She twitched and writhed under his deft attack, her thighs quivering even as she tried to spread them wider for him. Her hand fell still on his cock, not that Danse minded. It had always been more about his partner, he couldn't care less if nothing was done for him. Watching someone else fall apart because of him...now that was its own reward.

"What do I need to do to get you there, hmm?" Danse taunted playfully, tonguing sloppily over the peak of her breast. "What will it take, Elizabeth?"

She arched her back in response, pressing her breast firmly against his mouth, and Danse gently nibbled on the sensitive area she had offered up. Elizabeth sobbed out, shoving one hand down to her cunt to spread herself even wider for his plundering fingers. "More, Danse! Please please please-" she begged, her moan when he pressed a third finger into her absolutely enough to have Danse hurrying to talk himself down. "Yes, Danse." She was practically growling, her arousal something primal and untamed.

If Danse had his way, it would stay like that forever.

"What is it that you want, Vega?" His inquiry was almost lazy, three fingers stroking in and out with much less resistance now. "Hmm, I wonder if you're wet enough to take me."

"You can't just-" Vega made a noise of dismay. "That's not fair, Danse, that's not fair, you know it's not. Please, please fuck me."

Jesus. Danse almost choked on his own breath, letting his fingers slip out of her cunt. "How do you want me?" His voice broke noticeably. It felt like a lifetime since he had been desired, wanted in such a blatant and strangely pure fashion. She loved him. She wanted him inside her. Wanted him to make love to her. Wanted him.

The speed at which she flung herself up a little higher on the bed made Danse want to laugh, but then she was arching her back and looking over her shoulder at him and he suddenly forgot how to breathe for a moment. "This okay?" She panted, brown hair all tumbled around her face as she took off her glasses and pitched them in the general direction of her bedside table.

Danse nodded hurriedly, kicking his pants off. "If you need me to stop, just grab my hand." He instructed.

"This isn't exactly my first time getting fucked, Danse-"

"Language," the paladin reprimanded her with a chuckle, greedily fondling her rear as he mounted up behind her. "You have such a beautiful form, Vega." He murmured, leaning over to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "An absolute vision."

"I do have nice tits."

Danse rolled his eyes, slipping his hands down to grope said breasts. She gasped out, rocking back against him as he agreed, "yes you do, that can't be denied. Soft, the perfect size, they fit in my hands so well, and so sensitive." He found himself laughing when she whimpered again. "Don't offer up all your weak spots unless you want them taken advantage of, Vega."

"The only thing I want to take advantage of right now is the raging hard-on I can feel." Elizabeth wriggled and Danse grunted, shuddering. "Pl-ease Danse, please put it in me."

The paladin slipped his cock between her labia, the hot, slick flesh pressing against him mercilessly as he teased her. He suddenly felt her fingers on his cock and then-

"Fuck." The paladin grated out the uncharacteristic curse through his teeth, his fists meeting the bedding on either side of her body as he fought the urge to thrust himself home in one breath.

Elizabeth half-collapsed while he slowly, slowly rutted into her, the woman panting and clawing at the blankets. "Mmmgod, Danse-" she slurred, sighing loudly. "So good, fuck, Danse…"

Danse toyed with her nipples, stupidly snarling "language," as she keened in reply. "I'll take care of you, Elizabeth. Be good for me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, smirking at the way her body quaked when he finally bottomed out in her. "That's it, look at you, taking all of me so well," he praised. "Now, how can I make you come?"

"Fu--Please use your big cock to get me off, oh please Danse!" She begged and Danse fondled her breasts yet again.

"You don't want me to touch you here, just like this?" He asked, stroking over her nipples and lingering to tease the area. "They're so hard, though, begging for my attention."

Backhand made a noise of despair, burying her face in her pillow.

"I think you need me to play with them, don't you? You like when I touch them like this." Danse muttered, thinking out loud and coming to that realization even as the words left his mouth. "What is it about it that you like?"

"S-Sensitive." Vega whimpered, "feels good."

Danse rumbled again, bending over to press his chest to her back so he could whisper in her ear, "does it feel good when I'm inside you, Elizabeth? Can you feel how hard I am for you? Feel how badly I need you?"

Elizabeth gifted him this pitiful sound, canting her hips and clenching down around his cock so tightly it took Danse's breath away. "Yes, I love it. I need you too, Danse." She murmured, shifting back and forth ever so slightly.

"Good. I'm glad." Danse took hold of her hips, seating his cock as deeply as he could in her cunt. Elizabeth whined, burying her face in her pillow again as he slowly began to make love to her.

Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never been a man who took sex lightly. It was too important. Even after everything that had happened with Maxson, Danse still held to that belief. The display of vulnerability, the offer of power in exchange for pleasurable release, the brief moments of tenderness in an existence that was soul-crushingly difficult…

It was serious. It always was.

Vega's arms gave out and she slumped onto the bed, but Danse followed her down. Covering her with his body, the paladin thrust into her again and again, her soft whimpers and cries of his name music to his ears. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He asked raggedly when she began to squirm and arch back against him. "What can I give you, Elizabeth?"

"Fuck me, Danse!" She pleaded, turning her head to the side so she could see him.

"Language," Danse smiled, kissing her temple again. "But understood, ma'am."

…

For the first time since she'd awoken to an irradiated hellscape, Vega was wholly content to just lay down and be taken care of.

Danse was huge, proportionate to his already overgrown size, and he made the most incredible sounds when she inadvertently squeezed down on him. Groans burring in his chest like some untamed animal; he seemed content to just slowly fuck her into oblivion. Which was honestly more than she thought she would ever get.

Her fantasies, much as she'd believed they were wrong or silly at the time, didn't hold a candle to the reality of having Danse on top of her. She had gotten off more than once to this exact idea, being dominated and pinned by the massive paladin. This was a dream come true.

Elizabeth whined when he bottomed out in her again and just rutted himself back and forth slightly, making her feel every inch of his cock. The underside of his dick throbbed against the spot that made her see stars and then, the bastard, he slid his cock out of her cunt to press the head to her clit for a second. "Turn over for me?" He requested, punctuated by a gentle smack to her ass.

Vega rushed to obey, eager to have him back inside her as quickly as possible. The woman spread her legs wide so Danse could settle in between them and when the paladin did, he shifted upwards to kiss her tenderly.

"I've wanted this for so long." He admitted quietly.

"So have I!" Elizabeth replied in delight, her grin beaming. She was sure she looked like a mess, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and her face all flushed. But the way Danse was smiling at her…

She found she didn't really care about her appearance at this point in time.

"I love you." Danse murmured as he slid back inside her.

"I l-love you, Danse." Vega stuttered, the natural curvature of his cock applying steady pressure to her g-spot. "Make me feel so good, fuck."

"Language." He growled, making her laugh and then moan.

"Feels too good, brain can't cope." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him closer until all he could do was grind down into her in a merciless manner. The motion flung her towards her peak, disconnecting her mouth even further from her brain and making her ramble into his ear, "God, I love you so much, make me feel so good--"

"I love you too, Elizabeth." He panted into the hollow of her throat, "you feel incredible. Outstanding."

Elizabeth wasn't sure how she could feel both so aroused she thought she might die and so annoyed that she wanted to explode. "Danse, did you just call my pussy outstanding?"

"It's not an incorrect statement, from my perspective. It's perfect. Wet and tight and hot." The paladin praised her freely, a hand lowering to apply gentle pressure over the scar on her lower stomach. "Beautiful."

I am not going to cry, Vega told herself sternly as she hid her face in Danse's neck. Definitely not going to cry, not going to.

A sob somehow escaped her as she came and Danse froze, his whole body flinching when her cunt clenched down on his dick. "V...Vega?" He asked tentatively.

"I'm fine! I'm fine, I promise, m'not hurt or anything. My brain is just dumb." Elizabeth hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. "I'm okay, Danse, I'm fine."

The paladin seemed uncertain and she couldn't blame him, she didn't seem fine even if she felt a thousand times better than she had in literal months.

"I swear I'm okay, that was just...it was really intense, y'know?" She mumbled awkwardly, unable to make eye contact anymore.

She felt Danse shift his weight and then he settled down on top of her, holding her close and tight. "You're sure?" He murmured, "if you're overwhelmed, that's entirely acceptable. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, shit no, you feel incredible. I'm not going to be able to walk after this." Vega huffed, giggling a little when he rolled his eyes. "Keep going, okay? It feels fantastic."

"If you're certain." Danse acquiesced, kissing a hot trail down her neck when she nodded. "Let me know if you need me to stop."

Watching his forearms cord with muscle as he propped himself back up again, Vega's mouth went dry. "I have to say, this might be the best night of my life."

Danse pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the action a wonderful contrast to the needy way he sheathed his cock in her body once more. "I've thought about this." He confessed again, punctuated by a roll of his hips. "What you'd sound like, look like beneath me. You put my imagination to shame."

"What did I do in your dreams?" Backhand asked, unable to keep from breathlessly laughing when Danse hid his face in her neck. "So shy, Paladin! Even with that huge cock in me?"

"It's lewd, Elizabeth, I-I'm not proud of it." He mumbled. "Shouldn't have thought of you that way." He spread her legs wider, one hand on the back of each knee to urge her to bend.

"Mm, you thought about fucking me? Nice to know I'm not the only one with dirty thoughts."

"I did not." He protested staunchly. His cock slid back and forth between her pussy lips in a purposeful teasing motion. "I thought about how...I thought about how good it would feel to make love to you." He continued, his voice wavering slightly as his dick brushed her entrance and he plunged deep yet again. "Thought about how good I could make you feel."

Now it was Vega's turn to be shy, the woman looking away from him and flushing.

"It was still inappropriate at the...time, but I assure you it was never about that. I am not-" Danse struggled for a moment to find the words, before he sighed and rested his forehead against her own. "This already isn't simple, and I know I make it miles less so. Forgive me."

"I feel like it's pretty simple." Vega gasped, twitching as his fingers landed on her clit. "I f--fuck, Danse--I feel like it's real simple. You like me. Love me, yeah?"

"It's more than that, dammit." Danse growled, rubbing her clit in merciless circles. "What you did for me...how can I ever be worth your affection? Hell, your time?"

Elizabeth threw her head back, arching her entire body up into his chest. "Whatever good I give to you," she moaned, almost exasperated that they were even having this discussion, "you deserve it. Take it."

Danse's hands latched down on her hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over her pronounced stretch marks as he fucked into her so fiercely that Vega swore she saw stars. His pelvis ground against her own, body hair providing a delicious new sensation that had Vega grasping at the blankets in an effort to keep herself grounded. "I'm going to come, Elizabeth." Danse panted. "Where do you-"

"Inside." Backhand implored him, "come inside me, Paladin, please come inside me-" Her voice broke as she begged and Danse groaned loud, the sound incredulous.

"You...inside? Are you sure?" He asked through gritted teeth, dark brown eyes conveying his uncertainty. In reply, Vega dug the heels of her feet in beneath his rear, effectively locking him in place.

She caught a handful of his hair, gently tugging it until he leaned down again so she could seethe in his ear, "yes."

"Oh, dammit." With that wonderfully characteristic swear, Danse shoved his mouth against hers gracelessly. The heat in her belly spilled over from the onslaught of his enthusiastic thrusts and Backhand cried out, fingernails digging into his back when she came a second time.

Danse, either spurred on by her sounds or by the way her pussy gripped his dick (maybe a combination? Backhand mused) found his release seconds after, his voice breaking and dropping into a lower tone as he moaned her name. Her real name.

Elizabeth.

Vega cupped the nape of his neck, guiding his face into the hollow of her shoulder. "Lay down, sweetheart, you're shaking." She murmured, stroking over his quivering back.

"Don't want to flatten you." Danse rasped, his dick still throbbing inside her.

"Lay down. It's okay." Elizabeth flexed her bicep. "I'm strong, I can handle it." Danse laughed wearily, almost immediately going limp on top of her. She wrapped her arms back around him, fingers digging into the knots that she found to ease out the tension. "There, isn't that better?"

"Mmmmuch." Danse slurred into her neck, sounding exhausted. "Love you."

"I love you. Sleep, okay? We'll get cleaned up later. Right now though you seem like you could use a nap."

Danse nodded, the tangled mess of his hair mashed flat against her cheek in the process. "Want...to be a good parent." He mumbled several minutes later, just as Vega had thought he was dozing off. Danse propped himself up with one arm, cradling Vega's cheek in his palm. His thumb absently traced the cryo burn marks from the stasis as he continued, "a true partner for you. I don't know if you...if you even want me in that capacity, I--I don't know whether you would prefer that Shaun thinks of me as simply your friend, but I-"

"Danse," Elizabeth interrupted him sternly, raising an eyebrow. "Someone who's simply a friend wouldn't be balls deep in me."

Danse sputtered, his blush spreading down his neck to his chest. Despite his proclivity for dirty talk in the moment, he was endearingly embarrassed by her blunt words. Vega felt her heart pound as he floundered to collect himself, the large man looking away.

He's really nothing at all like Nate.

"Danse." Her voice was gentler this time, unmistakable affection bleeding through. "I would have to ask Shaun, of course, and I'd like to have an adjustment period before I do so that he can get comfortable with the idea on his own, but…" The young woman swallowed hard. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Oh sure, she could handle the vulnerability of being naked and fucked with absolute abandon but this? This was where her brain drew the line? Unbelievable, Backhand grumbled at herself. "I think the odds are in your favor." She concluded with a grin.

"You...even though I'm not-?"

"He's probably the last person to care about that kinda' stuff, Danse. C'mon." Vega chided, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. "Now. We are...absolutely disgusting. We need a bath big time."

"I...you're right, of course." Danse agreed absently, still seeming shocked at the whole scenario. "I should...w-we should bathe. Er, at the same time. To save water." He didn't meet her eyes, his attention focused somewhere by her left shoulder.

Elizabeth laughed, bumping their foreheads together before carefully scooting up the bed. His cock slipped out of her and she couldn't help her sigh, the noise echoed by the paladin who tilted his chin to catch her with a kiss.

"You are amazing." He breathed when they parted, his smile small but sincere. "I'm...I'll be hard-pressed to keep my hands off you, Elizabeth."

"Why bother?" Vega asked, chuckling as he ducked back in for another kiss.

...

Hours later, Danse laid awake while Elizabeth slept peacefully on his chest. The paladin stared up at the ceiling, his mind running rampant.

The future.

He hadn't really dared to think about it since discovering his true identity. Hadn't felt like it was something he deserved. After all, if he was just a machine, it hardly mattered. But Elizabeth…

She thought it mattered. She wanted him. Wanted him to stay with her. Wanted him to act as a father. Pending Shaun's approval, of course.

It was surreal how much his life had changed, how far they had come in such a short amount of time. Danse was a little overwhelmed by it all, if he was being honest. Scared, yet hopeful at the same time. And, he thought as he wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, incredibly, immensely grateful.

This new world was unforgiving, the universe coldly testing the mettle of a man time and again. But Danse had finally come out the other side, and he liked to think he had changed for the better.

Whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Ad Victoriam, General Vega. Thank you for having faith in me.

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse imagine #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #slow burn #Eventual romance #The Happy Ending #that's right #paladin danse x f!sole #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #epilogue #the gang's all here

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brooklynboysficrecs · 4 years ago

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Ria’s Top 10 Shrinkyclinks Fics

I will admit this isn’t my preferred AU -- I won’t immediately jump on a fic just because it’s pre-serum Steve and WS Bucky. I gotta like the plot, or the premise, or be really, really intrigued by the tags, but to be fair, that’s how I am with everything that isn’t Modern Bucky and Cap Steve, so. That being said, I have read some truly fantastic shrinkyclinks stories, and I do very much love Steven “Fight Me” Rogers at his scrappiest. And these fics also tend to feature protective!Bucky which is another personal favorite of mine. Oh, but also: shrinkyclinks generally refers to pre-serum Steve with actual Winter Soldier Bucky, but a lot of people use the tag just to imply body types, and when they say WS Bucky they mean he’s all huge and muscled and sometimes has a metal arm, though that isn’t required. That’s the definition I’m going with as well, so hopefully nothing’s confusing!

1. If Wishing Made It So by leveragehunters. Before I get into anything about the actual fic, let me say this: leveragehunters is probably my favorite stucky writer. Like, hands-down, I read almost everything they write, and they’re big into fantasy stories, which is a great bonus for me personally. So, so, so many good shrinkyclinks fics by them (Even Underneath the Waves, a mermaid AU that features equal amounts of pre- and post-serum Steve, and A-mage-ing Grace with mage Steve are two of my other favorites, and they would’ve been on the list, but I try not to put more than one story per author, ya know? And IWMIS kinda wins out above the others for me, so). This story features jinn!Bucky who finds himself in the baffled hands of Steve Rogers, who is perfectly prickly and stubborn and good. Bucky’s got a terrible past with humans in general (and Hydra in particular, what a shocker) that he and Steve have to overcome as their relationship progresses, but that progression is frankly beautiful to watch unfold. I come back to this story time and time again because of how much I love these versions of Steve and Bucky getting to know one another, learning to trust each other, supporting each other through the worst the world has to throw at them. Plus, there’s a few more stories in this series if you get as hooked as I am, which is always great!!

2. Roots Have Grown by AustinB. I remember reading this and just... completely feeling what Bucky is going through. Not everything -- he’s an agoraphobic veteran, and I can’t relate to either of those, really, but he’s so... awkward about his crush on Steve. And that’s -- that’s relatable to me. But it’s precious, really, how he tries to help Steve even though he’s afraid to actually meet him initially; he becomes Steve’s sort of... anonymous benefactor? Guardian angel with money? Like, it’s definitely a sugar daddy type deal originally but I doubt Bucky would describe it like that. I don’t know, it’s cute, though, and I loved seeing Bucky opening up to Steve as they became closer.

3. Through The Woods by VenusMonstrosa, alby_mangroves. Okay, hear me out: werewolves. I fucking love werewolves in fiction; I mean, not really the romance novels you’ll see in the grocery store, but. Werewolf mythology is one of my favorite things, so seeing it in fanfiction almost always manages to lure me in. And I was so not disappointed with this story! Steve’s living alone in a cabin in the woods, which of course sounds like the opening to a horror movie, but here it leads to love. Werewolf Bucky is both charming and terrifying, to a degree, he’s a wolf, but he and Steve are fantastic together. This is another story that goes in on the trust aspect of their relationship and I for one am a big fan of that. There’s some violence, minor character death and the like, but it’s definitely not undeserved so. If you can handle that (and the sex, because there is sex in this) then I highly recommend this one!

4. The Joy of Little Things by obsessivereader, Sealcat. And so we move from werewolves to dragons. Yup. Dragons. Another of my beloved mythical creatures that I obsessed over when I was kid. Bucky’s capable of shifting into a human in this, but primarily he’s a big ol’ dragon that surprisingly doesn’t want to eat the scrawny sacrifice from the local village. Steve ends up working for Bucky, instead, and from there hilarity ensues. Steve’s obviously wary of Bucky, but Bucky isn’t at all what he’d been expecting, and they grow closer the longer Steve’s staying in Bucky’s caves. There are a couple of stories with Dragon!Bucky, but this is my personal favorite; it’s cute and heart-warming and, well. I just really like it.

5. I Just Want to Love You in My Own Language by agetwellcard, inediblesushi. So this one has Cap!Bucky (Bucky!Cap?) but again, sometimes it’s more about how Bucky looks rather than his role as the Winter Soldier. Anyway, I remember my biggest take away from this story was how adorable Bucky was in his quest to win the affections of sassy Nurse Steve, who patches him up after missions and is probably playing hard to get. Bucky uses terrible pick-up lines, absolutely awful, and he is completely unashamed of that fact. Which is, as I said, adorable. Steve, initially, does not agree with my assessment, but he gets there eventually. After some requisite drama, of course.

6. Tint & Shade by forestofbabel. Oh, god, this one hurt me, I remember that pretty clearly. Bucky is the Winter Soldier in this, and Steve is a 21st century art therapist who just so happens to resemble his late grandfather, Captain Joseph Rogers, who fought in -- you guessed it -- WWII. Like I said in the intro, if I really like the premise of something I’ll usually read it regardless of the configuration of pre-/post-serum Steve and pre-serum/WS Bucky, and this was definitely one of the fics I got into for that reason. Having actual WS Bucky interact with a modern pre-serum Steve is always interesting, given how much they don’t have in common, generally (there isn’t even really the veteran status that modern Bucky sometimes has in fics), and it’s a journey to see how and why they connect. Having Steve resemble his WWII era grandfather caught my attention, and the fic itself made me grateful that I decided to go for it in the first place. This is another one where is trust is key to their relationship, considering the mental/emotional state Bucky is in at the beginning. Very good story overall!

7. Fourth Floor by dirtybinary, mithborien, picoalloe. So dirtybinary has written some amazing stucky fics, which is why I was so excited when I saw this being posted initially (a few years ago, but still). There’s magic! Mystery! Suspense! Some NatSharon! Looking this over, I’m wondering if I should’ve saved it for the Urban Fantasy list I wanna do (and If Wishing Made It So, if I’m being honest) but I do like it for the shrinkyclinks list. The writing is great, the characterization of Steve and Bucky is great, and like, they live in what is essentially a magical apartment complex, so what’s better than that?

8. my heart tells me you are lonely, too by FanGirling. Alright, so I read this one as it was being published, and the slow burn about killed me. You know, in a good way, though. Bucky lives in Steve and his mother’s apartment building, trying to figure out where to go with his life now that he’s broken free of Hydra and gotten his autonomy back. He’s obviously wary, skittish, but he takes a liking to Sarah Rogers when she reaches out to befriend him, surprised anyone wants to be near him let alone take the time to get to know him. Steve... is not so easily sold on Bucky. And I’m not gonna spoil anything here, but the shit these two go through is intense, and I cried a lot during this fic, sometimes out of frustration because they’re both ridiculous about their feelings (of course Bucky’s fears are valid, the man has been through literal hell, but also I was internally screaming a little as Bucky continually talked himself out of getting closer to Steve.) I wanted to wrap the both of them in about thirty blankets for pretty much the entire length of the fic. God. They’re just -- they’re so incredibly sweet in this one, once they work past their issues (Bucky and Steve are both more than a little messed up from their respective circumstances, but they make it work). Mind the tags on this one, also, especially because there is a chapter that deals with attempted sexual assault against Steve (obviously not with Bucky!), but Bucky handles the situation before anything truly nasty happens, that I can promise.

9. Local Raccoon Befriends Angry Chihuahua by charlesdk. This is yet another author I really love; they have a fantastic farmer!Steve/Modern!WS!Bucky story that I love to bits, as well as other great fics. But anyway, this one. The title sold me the second I saw it, honestly, I can’t even pretend that wasn’t the deciding factor in me reading this. I don’t think I can really do any better than the summary in explaining why I recommend it; feisty tiny Steve and lovestruck grumpy Bucky are a winning combination in my book. This one does feature the boys dealing with homophobia and ableism, though I can’t recall how severe it is. So I’d just mind the tags, and if you’re alright with them, thoroughly enjoy this story.

10. The Road to Hell is Paved with Tony’s Good Intentions by pinlilli. Bucky as a mail-order Russian bride. That’s the detail that pretty much demanded I click on this fic, and oh my god, it was even better than I ever could’ve expected. Tony, in a bid to help Steve get over his awful ex-boyfriend (fuck Brock Rumlow in every universe, honestly), literally orders him a husband -- in the form of beefy James Barnes, who is a fucking gem and I will not hear one bad word against him. He does chores, it’s lovely and adorable, and you will definitely fall just as hard as Steve does. There’s some canon-typical violence in this one that relates to James’ past, but nothing super graphic as far as I remember. Again, Rumlow is a dick and should be treated as such, but he’s hardly the most important part of this fic and I urge everyone to take a look at it if they’re as intrigued by Bucky being a mail-order husband as I was.

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #chris evans #sebastian stan #fic rec #shrinkyclinks #top 10

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eluminium · 4 years ago

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Raid (hehe fanfic)

So i made a Masqueraiders (belongs to @reginaldcopperbottom) fanfic because i could. Yes it’s about 3k words. This one has been a long time in the making and I’m happy i finally got it done!

Please enjoy!

A groan escaped his throat as the car sent vibrations throughout his tired body. This was 100% not his day.

Scratch that, this was 100% not his week.

Although he knew that from the glorious hour he rose from his bed, with soreness traveling down his spine like a waterslide. These past days had been hell for the department, with criminal organizations raiding places left, right, and center. Good sleep was a rarity, and many fellow cops were falling asleep by their desks, only to be woken up by a call to action. And now it was his turn to deal with these crooks.

"The museum of Geology...A prime raiding target for any thief with common sense" mumbled his partner while taking a turn.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock..." was his grumpy response.

"Who do you think it is this time?" his partner joked.

"I bet on the Crownminals, from what we got these thieves are well organized, and that's their brand"

"That makes sense, although could always be Toppats too. Y'know one time-"

As the words kept spilling out of his partner's mouth, his eyes wandered afield, out towards the rearview mirror. A fog gathered in his eyes as the blinking red and blue lights burrowed into him and the world around him faded a bit. Maybe he could get some quality sleep after this. Just gotta take out these criminals and then drop dead like a ragdoll. God, some good sleep was gonna be heavenly, he could almost feel the plushness of his bed calling out to him.

"We're..he...re! ...Hel..lo? yo..u the..re?"

So soft...He could almost pretend...

"Dude! You there?"

"Ugh, yeah yeah I'm here, stop snapping your fingers in my face" he murmured angrily as his feet touched the ground outside the car.

The cold metal of his pistol dug into his hand. The museum and everything around it was engulfed in chaos. He picked up on various orders coming from colleagues, but it didn't seem to contain the animalistic anarchy around them.

A tired breath flowed out of his lips, this was not gonna be simple or coordinated, was it? Welp, better just get a good position and-

The ground rumbled angrily as an explosion tore through the museum. His body swayed violently as screams echoed in his ears.

"Shit! They need backup! C'mon, don't just stand there!"

Before he could even respond, a tight grip had grasped his shirt and his body was traveling faster than his mind. Dear lord, the guy was fast! In through the entrance, through the gunfire, people people people screaming loud loud-

SLAM!

The door's impact echoed in his ears as his mind tried to catch up with whatever the fuck just happened. The sleep deprivation wasn't helping at all.

"What...the HELL...did just happen?"

"Oh, sorry dude, went a bit too fast there!" his partner cheered.

"You could say that again..." he grumbled.

His disapproving stare tore through his partner, who could only respond by scratching the back of his neck with sweat dripping down his face. So awkward he was, with his apologetic smile and soft-looking face- Nope, that was NOT what he was gonna focus on.

They stayed locked in that position, staring at each other stiffly until the sound of someone clearing their throat reached their ears. Both their gazes turned towards this new presence.

"Hello gentlemen, thank you for finally noticing us!" A masked fellow cheered.

His lips remained sealed as his gaze wandered over the man. The man's mask seemed to resemble two shining suns, and a well-kept sun hat covered up his head, even though it was mid-October. His arms, however, were tied up with a rope across his stomach. But even then, a bright and shrewish smile adorned his face.

"Alright, you can stop starring at me now pig, It was way more entertaining to watch you two play gay chicken."

What.

"Agh! N-No, we weren't! I-I'm not even gay!" his partner exclaimed with embarrassment.

Suddenly, a strange protectiveness surged through his veins. His feet moved before his mind did, and he unexpectedly found himself between his partner and these fowl mask people.

"Oh yeah, that kid is definitely gay. Maybe the grump is gay too. Mad respect." the masked man chuckled to someone behind him.

He felt his face morph into a sneer as flustered squeaks clawed their way out of his partner's throat. His eyes turned to the woman behind the masked man, and they narrowed as he noticed more masked people tied up behind them.

This had to be a temporary cell, and these are its inmates. A bunch of weird...mask people.

Wait.

Mask people...Mask thieves? No that couldn't be right. Mask heisters? Maskings? Mask sneakers? Masquerade raiders? No that was stupid no-one in their right mind would choose that-

"Hey, big guy~"

He quickly snapped away from his thoughts with all his attention focused on the masked lady. Her hair was long and slightly curly, with the texture of the darkest night in December. Although, there were spots of color too. A purple crown with a white moon rested on her raven head. She was, factually, a beauty.

But something about that...seductive tone made his skin crawl, and not in a good way. More in an 'i'll pay you to never speak to me like that again' way.

"Are you a parking ticket? 'Cause you got fine written all over you~"

Nope. Nope nope nope nope ew NO.

His mind was blank, and he looked like a fish out of water. It felt like disgusting bugs were crawling around inside his skin. Wait, was she wiggling her hips-?

"Dude? You online?"

He snapped back to reality and averted his stare. That was his partner. Right he still had a job to do. Criminals first, thinking about why he felt so uncomfortable with a woman flirting with him later. Luckily for him, a name got caught in his brainwaves.

He turned back towards the masked woman, his face stitched into a more serious expression.

"Masqueraiders correct?" he questioned with a head tilt.

The masked lass took a second to compose herself. Her purple gloved hand reached up and pushed her just as purple star marked mask back into place. It only took a single glance at the cop's "serious" face for her resolve to break, and the laughter burst out of her mouth like a botched dam.

"PffFFFFF HAHAHAHA! Y-Yeah, we are the MasqurAIDHHERERESSS! OH MY GOD, AIEDEN! LOOK AT HIS FACE!"

The gaze of the sun mask fellow, which had settled on his slightly less flustered partner, turned to him. And the cackling flowed out of his mouth not long after.

"ASTRA HE LOOKS LIKE A BABY WITH A BEARD! HOLY FUCK I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I THOUGHT BEARDS WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE YOU LOOK OLDER NOT YOUNGER! COPS TRY TO MARKET THEMSELVES AS SCARY BUT, I AM POSITIVELY DYING-"

Ouch, that was a hit to the ego. The expression of seriousness faltered a little bit as his gaze turned to the ground. Wow, was he letting these crooks get under his skin?

Yes, he was.

He was tired! What can he say?

The laughter kept echoing in his ears for a bit, really destroying any hubris he had beforehand. The feeling of his partner's worried stare really didn't help. It actually made it more embarrassing. If this was 100% not his day before, now it was 150% not his day. The flow in his brain had practically stopped as he tried to reboot his thinking process. Okay, okay, he's got this. Just gotta-

An abrupt and intense movement in front of his eyes caused the mental reboot to speedrun through the last stages. The click of a gun bounced between the walls of the room, and the mocking laughter ceased abruptly. He couldn't make out the faces of the tied up convicts who mocked him or see them at all, for that matter, because his partner's body was standing protectively between him and the Masqueraiders. Well wasn't this familiar? I guess bros gotta protect bros. He didn't have to see it with his bare eyes to know that there was a gun pointed at the crooks. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

"Hey, dudes, ladies, and thudes. Didn't we all learn that you should treat the police with an ounce of respect when we were younger?"

His partner's voice was smooth as a bead, yet it still possessed that edge of "dudebro" that was so unique to him. It was such a lovely song to his ears. God, what he would do to hear it more...

His head quickly swung side to side as if he was trying to shake that thought out of his head. No homo, no homo. Right?

The still but tense air that settled after his partners' words broke with a snort and some giggles.

"Oh? Mind filling me in on the joke dude?" his partner quipped while the gun clattered in his hands.

"Don't you hear it lad?" The sun-masked fellow whose name apparently was Aieden responded confidently. Well, confidently when you consider that there was a gun in his face.

"Hear what?"

Now that he mentioned it, there seemed to be footsteps approaching their little hideaway spot. Very quick yet...heavy steps. Oh fuck. Could it be-?!

"Get down-!"

He felt his hand instinctively clutch the sleeve of his partner before they made contact with the hard floor. The seconds ticked on, and on, and on.

CRASH!

"HOLY FUCK-"

The wall by their side crumbled into pieces as an unstoppable force smashed into it. He felt the fabric of his partner's sleeve crack as he dragged them both out of the way of this brute.

"Freeze! This is-"

The gun rattled in his hands, his eyes dilated with fear. Because now he saw this person, this giant, clearly. Holy mother of God.

The man in front of him bore clothes in brilliant green and black. On his face rested a mysterious black mask that only covered one half, and a white spot resembling an eye covered the spot on the mask where his actual eye would be. Emerald green boots, teeth sharp as stalactites...

And this fowl criminal was enormous. He dwarfed everybody else in that little supply closet, probably standing at around 7 feet tall! Jesus Christ, was he dealing with crooks or actual mythical beings?!

Luckily for him though, this gigantic force of nature didn't seem to pay any attention to his intimidation attempt. He seemed more focused on freeing his fellow Masqueraiders from their imprisonment, the leaf color feathers on his hat bouncing side to side.

"There ya' are Ricardo! I'm surprised it took this long!"

He knew he couldn't go up against a beast like that. He'd get pummeled into the ground and lose every tooth he had left. His gaze wandered back to his partner's still face as he tried to think up a plan. A slight panic flowed down his spine when he noticed that his partner wasn't moving, but a quick check revealed that his heartbeat was strong and his soft breathing still there. Must have been knocked out...

He felt his arm reach for a spare curtain that was discarded next to them, and soon his partner rested under it, hidden from view. It was best to keep him secured until he woke up again.

As he observed the big green man whose name was Ricardo do his big green man things, a sudden flash of vibrant red caught his gaze. Someone had rushed past the big hole in the wall, someone clad in crimson. There was no doubt about it. It had to be the Masqueraiders leader himself, Sylvester Wesley. He knew it had to be him. And if he could capture their leader, maybe he could gain an advantage over these masks who mocked him. Although maybe it wasn't Wesley, maybe there was another red-clad mask bastard. But even then, capturing any Masqueraider would be a victory at this point. His pride was on the line after all!

He glanced back at his partner, still unconscious. A seed of doubt grew in his chest, should he really leave his partner like this? After everything that had happened...

Once again, his head bounced side to side. No, he had to do this. He had to apprehend SOMEONE. His partner would be fine, he just had to be! He was hidden, they'd never find him, right? He made his decision. It was time to round up some criminals.

Yet, the feeling of doubt and worry only grew stronger as he sneaked out through the hole made by the giant. Was he doing the right thing? Is this justice? To leave an unconscious man vulnerable? He didn't know, but he pushed those thoughts to the side as he spotted the red-clad criminal again. He seemed to be rounding up the last of their loot, with a big potato sack slung over his shoulder. It was certain now, that was the Masqueraiders leader himself. The black mask and red hat gave it away.

He cleared his throat before once again pointing his weapon at the crook.

"Freeze! Police!"

He met the gaze of the black-masked man and expected to meet a pair of eyes drowned in confusion. Yet all he could spot was a slight hint of surprise and then a kind of...playful mockery. A very familiar sight by now.

"Catch me if you can!" The Masqueraiders leader sang out as he bolted down the hallway with the goods.

He took off after him, uselessly chasing the nimble and quick Wesley. Gunshots echoed off the walls as he unleashed a salvo aimed at the leader, yet all the shots either missed or were reflected by the skilled swordsman's weapon. Every bullet, no matter where he aimed. Time after time after time again, nothing seemed to be hitting this disgustingly fast weasel. Frustration boiled in his guts, come on now! He was so tantalizingly close to regaining his dignity and getting revenge on the Masqueraiders. Yet still NOTHING!

A roar of anger escaped him, his feet moving even faster. All he got back from Wesley was a coy grin and just...the most punchable expression ever.

"Hah! You're way too slow, ever considered hitting the gym?!"

"Shut up!"

"You're not my dad so you can't tell me what to doooo~"

He was gonna crack Wesleys skull open like a watermelon. He was gonna do it, nothing could stop him from squeezing that stupid overconfident head in like a pimple. And he actually seemed to be closing in on him! His gun had run out of ammo by now, but he was hot on his heels now!

Wait, was he deliberately slowing down? Was Wesley running slower to ridicule him even more? Oh, this motherfucker...

He was laser-focused now, not considering where his feet were taking him. So when he ran into an open exhibit, he didn't notice the danger lurking by the stage lights. He just wanted to commit some nice ol' murder on the man who kept taunting him.

"Veronica! Now!"

But that, that stopped him a bit. What? Was Wesley calling for backup? But, there's nobody here. Or is there? Wait who was Veronica? He followed Wesley's gaze and noticed a lady dressed in purple sitting by one of the stage lights. She had a very similar mask to the big green-

He couldn't see any more details of her, or see at all for that matter. A scream clawed its way out of his lungs, his eyes feeling like they were burning. His body swayed from side to side, and his sweaty hands were covering his eyes. The empty gun clattered to the floor. That bitch, she'd used the stage light like a flashbang! The force against his face provided by his hands harshened, trying to block out as much as he could.

"Oh, how the turntables turn!"

He felt Wesley's presence next to him, teasing him. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to beat his ass, but he couldn't get his hands off his face without causing worse pain. An angry gurgle was what he gave in response.

"Aw, how cute. Did you really think you could catch the great Sylvester Wesley? One of the sneakiest sneakers who have ever sneaked? With your rancid vibes? Don't make me laugh! Or well, I'm already laughing, so jokes on you!" Ugh, that dumb tone...

"I can't believe you managed- What Veronica? ...Aw come on can't I just mess with him a little more? Yeah yeah, I know there's probably- Veronica can you make a little exception- OKAY okay FINE I'll knock him out and we'll leave with the loot. You owe me a pop tart now."

"Toooo deee looo turtle, have fun in dreamland!"

Before he could even fight back, something hard impacted the side of his head. He was swallowed up by the sweet release of unconsciousness, something he'd been craving all day. The last thing he knew was the cold feel of the floor, and the faint sound of footsteps burrowing into his ear.

Darkness...A rumbling noise of somebody talking to him...He slowly felt himself returning to the land of the awake, a killer pain pounding in his head. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is his partner with a few bandages tied around his head. He talked, and talked, and talked. He looked kinda cute like this, hair all fluffed up and features so soft. But he's talking too fast for him to pick anything up.

Although all those thoughts disappear when he notices something on his stomach. His hand closes around the object, his partner's worried squawks becoming nothing but background noise. It was a black velvet mask.

He couldn't take his gaze off it, it was locked to this replica of Wesley's famous mask. As his partner finally got a grip on him and started carrying him out of the destroyed museum, there was only one thought on his mind.

"I'll get that bastard, I'll throw him behind bars myself."

#the masqueraiders #henry stickmin #henry stickmin fanfaction #sylvester wesley #veronica johanna #ricardo rich #cw gun mention #cw police #my writing #fanfic #fanfaction #3k words #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #oh wow this one took a while #jeez #i hope its good

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beelsnack · 5 years ago

Text

When MC Gives The Obey Me! Boys a Present

Lucifer: The Eldest had always been an early riser. Honestly, he wasn’t fully convinced that this habit hadn’t been the real reason behind his moniker “Morning Star.” Although there was no sun in the Devildom, and therefore no sunrise, he still liked the idea of sitting by the grand window in the living room with a cup of coffee, watching the sky change from inky black to a dusty lavender. He would steal this few precious moments of peace while everyone was still asleep.

Well, almost everyone.

It was common for the human to get up early as well. On occasion, his brothers would keep them up with some ridiculous scheme that tired them out, but almost every morning the human joined Lucifer for coffee. He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having them to himself.

“Good morning.” they smiled as they entered the dining room. Their hands were clasped behind their back, and Lucifer regarded them with a raised eyebrow.

“Good morning. And whatever could you be hiding there?”

Suddenly shy, they kept their gaze on the cup of coffee Lucifer had poured for them. “Um, well...uh...” they cleared their throat, bringing their arms to their front to reveal what they were holding.

Lucifer studied the little box curiously. It was plain and black, made of velvet and looked like it came from a high end store. Well, now wasn’t that interesting?

Swallowing, the human pushed it towards him, quickly hiding their expression behind their coffee. “I-It’s for you. I didn’t want to give you it with everyone else around.”

“Oh?” he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips. “Don’t tell me you brought me something scandalous.”

“No!” they exclaimed. “Of course not, I just - it would - just open it, will you?”

He chuckled lowly. “As you wish.”

All teasing remarks died on his tongue as he opened the box. Nestled inside was a brooch, a brilliant ruby surrounded by delicate obsidian in a lace-like pattern. The gem caught the light and shone beautifully, and Lucifer was at a loss for words.

“You’ve been so kind to me.” the human’s voice, soft with sincerity, drew his gaze from the brooch. “I wanted to thank you. Asmo dragged me out shopping the other day, and I saw that. I had money left over from working at the bookstore, and I thought...”

They trailed off, flushing nearly as red as the brooch. Gently, Lucifer removed it from it’s box and affixed it to his uniform.

“I like it.” he smiled, catching their hand as they set down their cup. He brought their knuckles to his lips, watching as they squirmed. “I shall wear it with pride.”

Mammon: The human world was an exciting place. It had been a while since he dared to pop up in the mortal realm, afraid that one of the witches would catch wind of his presence and track him down. But the human had been wanting to take a visit to their world for a while, and someone had to make sure they didn’t get themselves mauled.

(Mammon was absolutely weak against the power of the human’s puppy-dog eyes and would probably throw himself into an active volcano if they pouted at him enough.)

After hours of exploring all the nooks and crannies the city had to offer, they eventually wandered into a coffee shop. After ordering their drinks - paid for by the human, of course - they tucked themselves into a table in the corner by the window.

“Man, I’m tired.” Mammon groaned, slumping back in his seat. “Followin’ you around all day is exhausting.”

They laughed. “Sorry. Maybe this will make up for it?”

They reached into the shopping bag at their feet and pulled out two little boxes. After carefully examining each one, they nodded to themselves and placing one of the boxes in front of him.

“What is this?” he tilted his head, picking the box up and shaking it. Something rattled inside.

“A blind box!” they grinned. “Remember those keychains we bought with Satan and Lucifer? These are from the same series, but their little figures. You don’t know what one you get until you open it.”

“Ehhh? Man, you humans are creative little things, aren’t ya?” he looked at the side of the box that had all of his options. “Aw, man, these are all the mythical creatures, aren’t they? Where’d you snag these, anyway? And when?”

“In the game shop, when you were trying to win the demo.”

“Hey, no one told me it wasn’t winnable, a’ight?”

The human shrugged. “Whatever. The sign for these things said ‘test your luck,’ and it reminded me of you, so I bought them.”

Mammon always did love a gamble. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s crack these bad boys open!”

Mammon basically tore the box apart. He ripped open the little plastic bag and a small plastic figure of a dragon tumbled out. It was even breathing fire!

“Hey, check out what I got! Betcha it’s cooler than yours, huh?”

When he looked up, the human was holding the exact same figure.

“Looks like we got our matching things after all!”

He felt his cheeks heat up, and he might have laughed just a bit too loud as he straightened up. “Look at that! How about it, human? Do you feel honored to be matching the Great Mammon?”

The bright grin they sent his way made his heart flutter a little bit. “Of course. I have to match with my first man, don’t I?”

Levi: He kept checking the time on his D.D.D. The stream was going to start any minute! Maybe they decided that didn’t want to watch it with him after all? Maybe they had just been screwing with him in the first place. They probably -

KNOCK KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK KNOCK

“Levi, it’s me!”

He sat in surprise for a moment before he realized that he had to actually let them in. He scrambled over to the door, squaring his shoulders and taking a few deep breaths to try and appear cool before he opened the door.

“Where were you? The stream’s starting soon!”

“Sorry, sorry!” the followed him into his room, kicking the door shut behind them. “I couldn’t remember where I put it, I was tearing apart my room looking for it, of course it was in my desk drawer - “

“What are you talking about?” the human had a tendency to babble if left unchecked. Now that his heart rate had returned to normal, Levi noticed the thin piece of cardboard that they were holding.

“Oh, right, sorry!” Levi really wanted the human to stop apologizing for everything, but didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick.

They held up the mystery item for Levi to see. “Last time I was in the human world, I picked these up! They’re cool, right?”

Attached to the cardboard were two black-corded wrap-around bracelets. Both were decorated with a pixelated heart, one saying “Player One,” the other saying “Player Two.”

Well, so much for a normal heart rate.

“I - you - what - a-are you sure you want to wear something like this. With - with me?”

Levi didn’t want to think about how soft and kind the human’s face looked when they took back the cardboard and began taking the bracelets off. They remained silent as they handed the Player One bracelet to him. His hands were shaking as they dropped it in his palm.

“I don’t want to wear it with anyone else.”

Satan: No matter what he did, Satan always ended up losing his bookmarks. They got lost in books that he had forgotten he had, accidentally thrown away when he cleaned off his desk, he definitely saw a cat steal one and just couldn’t bring himself to take their new toy from them. Every time he turned around, a bookmark had gone missing.

He was in the middle of searching for one - he absolutely refused to dog-ear the pages, he might as well rip the page out - when he heard the door to his room open. “Satan? Are you in here?”

He couldn’t help the small smile. The human was probably the only one in the house he didn’t want to punch in the face. “Up here.” he called.

The human began climbing the spiral staircase that led up to his bedroom proper. He still couldn’t find a bookmark, so he was forced to turn the small paperback over and rest it on the desk. He could practically hear the spine breaking and wanted to cringe.

“What’s up? I thought you were going shopping today.”

“I already did.” they were holding a small bag in there hands. “I couldn’t really find anything I liked, no matter what Asmo made me try on. But! I found something for you!”

Satan blinked as they handed him the bag. “Really? For me?”

“Mhm!” they looked quite pleased with themself. “Go on, open it!”

He reached into the bag and plucked out it’s contents. “A...what is this?”

It was made out of metal, shaped like a dagger with a green stone (there was no way it was real emerald) decorated the hilt. He moved it around in his hand, and felt it bend. It was a similar shape to a paperclip.

“It’s a bookmark.” the human grinned. “It clips onto the page, and the top part here sticks out so you don’t forget you have it in there! It’s just something litle, but I remembered you complaining about how you’re bookmarks always disappear, so..yeah.”

They lost a little bit of steam when Satan just continued to stare at them. “...You don’t like it?”

“Of course I like it.” he replied. “I’m just shocked you remembered something trivial I said weeks ago.”

Expression turning sheepish, they shrugged. “I guess I just have a good memory.”

Satan hummed, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “That you do. Thank you.”

Asmo: The best part of taking a long, luxurious bath was putting on his favorite bathrobe. It was soft and fluffy and felt like a cloud against his skin. And it always sent a little shiver up his spine as it was sliding off to reveal -

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Ugh. Someone always had to interrupt, didn’t they? His beauty routine was terribly intricate, and there would be hell to pay if he broke out.

“Asmo? Can I come in?”

...Okay, this was an acceptable interruption.

“Of course, darling, door’s open!” he briefly contemplated leaving his robe untied before deciding against it. Undressing was part of the fun.

The human stepped into his room, arms laden with shopping bags.”I wanted to show you what I got!”

“Ooh, yes!” he beamed. “Show me, show me!”

They set their bags down on the bed, digging through the bags to decide what to show him first. Asmo sat at his vanity, watching them search. They’re eyes lit up like jewels when they found what they were looking for.

“Ta-da!” they produced a length of dark magenta fabric. It looked soft, and caught the light in a way that made it shimmer. A silk scarf.

“Oh, isn’t that lovely?” he crooned, standing up to run his fingers delicately over it. “And so soft, too! What a find, darling!”

“So you like it?” the human asked. Asmo hummed, nodding. He couldn’t stop feeling the scarf. Silk always felt good against the skin ~

“Good! Because I bought it for you.”

He paused mid-stroke, bringing his eyes up to look at them. “Eh?”

“I saw it at the store,” they placed the delicate fabric fully in Asmo’s hands. “And I thought that the color would look sooo good on you. It was the last one, too, so I snatched it up.”

“Oh, aren’t you a treasure!” he wrapped his arms around the human and damn near squeezed the life out of them. “You know me so well! But, you know...”

He slipped the scarf around their waist and used it to pull them flush against him.

“I can think of a couple different uses for silk.”

Beelzebub: There would be a world of trouble if they got caught. But you wouldn’t know that at all just by watching the human. They hummed to themself as they mixed the ingredients, like this was normal cooking duty instead of an emergency late-night food run.

Beel felt kind of bad. Not only did he ruin their bedroom over custard, he woke them up in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare. And instead of being angry with him like they should be, they offered to make him cake.

“You don’t have to. You can go back to bed.” he mumbled. Despite the cheerful expression they wore, he could tell they were tired.

They turned around, pointing their spoon at him accusingly. “No, I can’t. I just put the cake in the oven.

“But...”

“Besides,” they shrugged, turning around to put the dishes in the sink. “I’ve been wanting to try out a new recipe for a while. What better way to shake of a nightmare than taste-testing, right?”

Beel had never heard that one before, but he wasn’t going to argue. Instead, he just folded his arms on the table and rested his head on top of them, watching the human work. “Can we call this nightmare cake?”

“No, that sounds like it’ll taste bad.”

“I’m calling it nightmare cake.”

They wrinkled their nose at him, and he couldn’t resist reaching out and giving them a little nose boop.

“Thanks. I’ll bet this is going to be better than any store bought cake.”

Belphegor: Honestly, he was trying to do his assignments. He had actually missed going to classes while he had been locked in the attic, and he was already on thin ice with Diavolo. But he was so sleepy...

A knock at his door jolted him awake. Damn, he dozed off again.

“Yeah?” he called, rubbing at his eye.

“Can I come in?”

Oh. The human. “Yeah, door’s open.”

They stepped into the room and immediately zeroed in on him. “Did you fall asleep on your homework again?”

He lolled his head back without turning around in his desk chair to look at them upside down. “No.”

“Then why do you have ink on your cheek?”

“It’s a fashion statement.”

They raised an eyebrow. “What are you supposed to be stating?”

“...That I fell asleep while doing homework.”

Belphie didn’t want to admit how much he liked the human’s laugh. So, he focused on something else. “What do you have there?”

“Oh!” apparently, they had forgotten what they were holding. “There was one of those crane games at the arcade, and I won this!”

Belphie straightened up and turned around. They were holding a plush toy shaped like a black ram. It was kind of cute.

“It kind of reminded me of you, so here!” they held it out to him, but he only looked at them quizzically.

“Why did it remind you of me?”

“The horns, mostly.”

Upon closer inspection, those did look like his horns. “Huh. Yeah, okay, I see it.”

The human thrust the plushie out again, and this time, he took it. It was really soft and cuddly. He could definitely imagine falling asleep with this. But...

“Hey!” the human yelped as Belphie stood and shoved the plushie in their face. “If you don’t like it you can just say so!”

“I want it to smell like you.” he drawled. “So I can think about you before I go to sleep.”

“So you try to suffocate me with it?!”

Truthfully, Belphie just didn’t want them to see him blush when he muttered, “Thanks for the gift. I really like it.”

#shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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virgil-writes · 3 years ago

Photo

ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (eventual Heisenberg x OC)

on AO3: chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

chapter 5 - professional secrets

SFW, we finally meet our new friend. there's some slightly spicy language and blood but nothing much. around 3.2K words.

The sudden realization that he was not alone made his skin crawl.

Heisenberg instinctively reached for his hammer, scouted his surroundings for any piece of metal he could find. The pots rattled and he heard the cauldron swing violently, the stranger protesting with a sigh of frustration as she tried to steady the cooking pot. He made a sharp turn to watch her, eyes trained on her every move as he prepared to defend himself. “I am sorry to disappoint - even the nails of this house are made of wood.” She snickered, not seeming to mind him at all, having gone back to stirring the stew, humming what he recognized as a lullaby. “Take a seat, make yourself at home.”

There was something familiar about her, perhaps the way she held herself, or the tone of her voice. She looked nothing like the hag, was taller and much younger, too, but something told him they were one and the same.

She turned around and stared openly at him with a small smile, far too friendly towards a rugged stranger who had just invaded her home and knocked together all of her cast iron pans with a slight flick of his hand. Her clothes were simple, a long linen skirt the color of moss, white buttoned shirt with gathered sleeves and embroidered flowers. A colorful apron was tied around her waist, its pockets stuffed with dried herbs and wooden utensils. Her raven hair was pulled back to keep it away from her face, though a few unruly curls insisted on framing it ever so gently. She was the very picture of a peasant villager, while looking nothing of the sort. She had the garments and sheepish expression, but none of the devotion and fear. There were calluses on her hands from working the land, freckles on her face from being under the sun day after day, and despite it all her skin looked warm, soft to the touch, promised delights he had never experienced.

Eerily beautiful, mysterious, sinister. Voice of velvet with a hint of malice. If he were ever to be lured into the embrace of a mythical creature only to be eaten alive not long after, she would be the one to do it. The prospect of such a gruesome death, for some reason, only served to pique his interest.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit? How can I be of service, Lord Heisenberg?” There was absolute certainty in her voice, like they had spoken many a time before. It was no surprise that she knew him, of course. After all, one had but to step inside the village church to see a picture of his handsome face alongside his adorable little family. He had never seen her, however, not in the fields nor the church, not in the masses nor the harvest festivals. Surely he would remember, such striking beauty and poised demeanor that would rival any noblewoman. She far surpassed the fabled Dimitrescu daughters, and that she was still alive was evidence enough to tell him she was not seen very often. Alcina did not suffer competition.

“In need of a curative or ointment?” There was homeliness in her grace, somehow, a simplicity one would not find among finery and expensive wine. She poured herself a cup of tea as she spoke, motioned in his direction as if to offer him some. The cup was neatly stacked upon others in the cabinet when he did not take it, and she shrugged her shoulders as if disappointed. The table set for two, the second teacup put away when he refused the offer. Had she been expecting him?

Like she had heard his very thoughts, the woman pulled a chair and gestured for him to sit, moving about with little discomfort for his presence. It felt as if he was no esteemed visitor, no frightening intruder, but a frequent houseguest, someone who had visited a thousand times over and needed no coaxing or guidance to make themselves comfortable. It was strangely heartwarming, the way he felt like he could kick off his boots and sit beside her on the couch to chitchat, open the cabinets to find himself a snack. He could sit cross-legged on the woven rug and pet the dog in front of the fireplace, sit by the table to study his plans with only the crackling of the fire as background noise.

She pat his shoulder reassuringly as she crossed the room to check on the stew, her touch lingering just a second too long, hips swaying to a tune only playing inside her head. The domesticity of it all was soothing, but also infuriating. He had not come for pleasantries, to sip on tea while they laughed over the latest village gossip. He had come to bind and gag her, to drag her all the way back to a castle that would become her final resting place. Somehow, he was sure the idea of being tied and manhandled would actually please her.

“Seeking a nice massage to alleviate the pressure on those shoulders?” She continued when his silence persisted, the teacup left behind on the kitchen counter as she reached up to a shelf littered with glass bottles. Crimson painted fingernails ran along the labels to pull a flask that looked harmless enough, though his knowledge of toxins was too limited to be sure. He recognized the liquid inside it as a fragrant oil, a drop hitting the skin on the back of her hand before she gave it a good rub as if to test it.

A massage would be nice, he had to admit, decades of sibling rivalry and impending doom for being part of a cult that worshiped a gross looking blob of mold taking a toll on his soul. He could picture it, his trench coat finally sliding off his shoulders after such a stressful day, her nails scratching against his skin as she pulled his shirt over his head. She would tell him to make himself comfortable on the bed or the couch, but he’d refuse it; he hadn’t laid in a bed in years, and at this point he was afraid of trying. Instead he would hold his head in his hands as he sat forward on the dining chair, for once trying to push away the thoughts that always raced through his mind. He knew he would lose his composure as soon as her hands touched the tender spots on his shoulders, a groan and his worries escaping his lips. He figured she would listen and hum appropriate responses as he wove the tales of his woes. It was hard to picture how it would all go, what relaxation truly felt like after so many decades of stress. Maybe he could stay a little longer, take her offer, and-

What the fuck was he thinking? His own inner contradictions were driving him up the wall; her friendliness was wearing on him more than Alcina’s rudeness ever did.

Once again she shrugged when he rejected her offer, made her way to the chair he hadn’t taken and sat down with her steaming cup of tea in her hand once more. They are dangerously close now, he is still frozen in place between the dining table and the fireplace - like an idiot. He could touch her from here. He could kill her from here. She scrunches her nose when again he says nothing, smells the air before saying: “Are you sure you do not wish me to draw you that bath?”

That is just about enough to set him off. The stunt with the horse, the illusions with the creature and the hag, the tricks with the lycan heads, and now this. Heisenberg saluted her fearlessness in the face of near certain death, could appreciate the confidence that exuded from her despite being in the presence of the most powerful lord of the village. Enough, however, is enough. He closes the distance between them in a flash, footsteps too loud in the silence of the cabin, and finds that his hand fits perfectly around her pretty little neck. He can hear the teacup in her hand fall and shatter somewhere beneath them, the chair comes along for a few steps as he drags her before it falls to the ground, but she wouldn’t live long enough to clean up the mess. He has her off the floor and slams her hard against the nearest wall, satisfied with the sound her body makes as the surprise knocks the wind right out of her. Teach her to shut her fucking mouth.

He watches closely for the terror in her eyes, waits for her strained voice to beg, please, Lord Heisenberg. It always made him feel dirty when they begged, made him feel like he was no better than any of his siblings, but just this once, he will allow himself to enjoy it. He seeks terror, yet all he finds is wickedness. Even so close to her demise, with his fingers tightening against her wind pipe, she does not fear him. He opens his mouth to speak, to yell, to tell her to shut it and announce that she is dying tonight, not because he wanted to, but because she had done away with his patience. Her hand snakes its way up his chest and arm to reach his own, holding it almost lovingly, nails scratching the skin ever so softly just like he had imagined, but somehow better, so much better.

“I was expecting something more romantic over dinner,” she finds the strength to speak, her voice almost a purr. “But I do like the eagerness.” His fingers clutch her neck a little tighter. In any other situation, this would have been enough to convince him to fuck her senseless. He liked himself a feisty partner, someone who didn’t bow their head to him, a challenge at last. But not now, not when he was pissed off and tired and sweating as if it was summer outside.

“Oh, you’re not going to like it when I’m done with you,” he pauses to pull her and force her back against the wall, the boards shaking with the impact. “Sweetheart.”

“Is that a promise, my lord?” Her eyes burn with something not quite like desire, contradict the deep turquoise and calmness of her irises. The hand around her neck is bloody, glove and flesh torn where the lycan had bit him, and her tongue darts out of her mouth to get a taste. The smile she gives him makes a delicious heat pool at the bottom of his stomach, sliding down dangerously close to his navel. He is deciding between choking her to death, biting a piece of her face off or bashing her skull in, lips contorted in a wicked smile, when he feels his fingers grasp at nothing, balance lost as he topples over and hits the wall with full force. There is a hollow thud when his nose hits the wooden boards, blood dripping down onto his chin. It takes him a moment to register that she has, somehow, slipped away from him, ducked under his arm to make her way back to the bubbling pot on the fireplace. She continues to hum the stupid lullaby and treat him like a harmless peasant.

“Are you staying for dinner, my lord?” She speaks as if nothing has transpired in the past few minutes. Like he hadn’t gone through the painfully embarrassing experience of threatening her with a very noticeable and contradicting bulge in his pants, right before he lost his balance - and dignity - and broke his nose against her living room wall.

He hadn’t felt this humiliated in decades. There are no words to describe the rage that courses through his body, although the snarl he pushes through gritted teeth might be good enough indication. Heisenberg braces himself against the wall, wipes the blood off his face on the sleeve of his coat. Plan B: shove her head into the fire and then choke her.

“Oh, let me take a look at that,” is all she says when he turns around, a piece of cloth in hand as she guides him to a dining chair. There is no time for his explosiveness, for his plans to be put into motion; for reasons not at all clear to him, he can do nothing but play along. She lifts his chin with such grace that he is unsure how to feel. The beast in the forest held him with the same care. He could deal with quite a range of emotions: anger, hatred, disgust, some more anger. This nobody had ever done to him - shown him kindness, cared for him. Miranda had tried, in her own awkward way, but never again after she had deemed him a failure.

It feels good to be at a loss for words, he notices, to have choice and violence taken away from him for just a few minutes. To let himself waddle in the silence of his empty mind, a tender touch to ground him and nothing else. It feels good, but awkward, and he shuffles to find something, anything, to talk about.

“You’re the monster in the woods then?” He asks as he looks away, too busy trying to justify to himself the absurdity of the situation. Here he is, sitting in a chair that is about to give under his weight, in the middle of the woods after petting a dead horse and almost being swallowed whole by a goat-human hybrid. The woman he was sent to kill is now gently caressing his jaw with the hand that holds his chin up as if to comfort him, the other busy soaking up the blood coming out of his broken nose. The embarrassment far outweighs the pain, but there is no sign of judgment in her features. It helps.

“Yes, sir.” She answers with a proud smile. “I am a healer by trade, you see. A little knowledge of plants can go a long way, especially in such a quaint, isolated little village like yours.” she smushed his nose in as if to prove a point. “Is that the reason you have come to me, my lord?”

“Funny thing,” he begins with a chuckle and ends with a whimper as she wiggles the cartilage on his nose. “I was sent to take you back to the village as a prize to the one and only Lady Dimitrescu. That, or kill you. Although she would prefer you alive.” Heisenberg observed her closely, hoping to catch a glimpse of something other than friendliness. If she had heard of him, surely she had heard of Alcina, and the horrible things she put women like her through. “Monsters don’t usually get a reputation for mixing poultices.”

She nods calmly, too busy with her ministrations to care. “Must preserve some professional secrets, now, mustn’t we? What is that you would prefer? Alive, dead? What can I help you with?” Her question is a simple one, although it feels as if it weighs far more than it was supposed to.

“Unless you can kill a century-old monster, my darling, there is little you can do for me.” His answer is pure sarcasm, and she does not seem to care. Her head tilts slightly to the side as if she is considering her options, as if, you know, maybe she can do that. “The fog in the forest - that you?” There is no hesitation when she nods. “Overgrown stallion?” Another nod. “Eldritch abomination? Sickly hag?” A throaty hum of approval. “Not bad.”

“Would you be so kind as to let me live, my lord?” She has her back turned as she speaks, perusing a tall shelf over the couch. The bleeding in his nose has stopped, and he realizes she has slipped the torn glove off his hand without him noticing. “I would be most interested in such a prospect.” There was a touch of drama in her words that he appreciated. When she turns back around, she looks and sounds more like a person than a character out of an old romance. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” The woman returns with clean linens in her hand, a bottle of antiseptic and a pincushion in the shape of a pumpkin. He is unsure whether the needle and thread is meant to sew his glove or him back together.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” he makes to rise from the chair but never does, a firm hand placed on his shoulder.

“Allow me to fix that at least.” He sighed in defeat as he sat back down. It crossed his mind that he had no reason to comply, but did regardless. “And I insist you take a bowl of stew.” Her hands were back on his face before the could muster a response, more determination behind her movements this time. “This will only take a moment,” she explains, two fingers pinching the sides of his nose. A wiggle and suspicious crack later, and it was like the pain had never been there. Her hands were clean, as was his face, not a trace of blood anywhere. Quite the miracle worker, wasn’t she?

They remained quiet as she worked, his injured hand splayed against the wooden table. The burn of the antiseptic was good to keep him alert, to pull him away from his embarrassment. She expertly dabs onto the wound to cleanse it, her touches featherlight. The dog awakens from its nap with a stretch and a yawn, bounds up to him with a happy tail wag. Heisenberg pets its head with his free hand, the dog’s tongue peeking out in glee as it settled down at his feet. The shaggy yet adorable fleabag manages to distract him long enough for her to finish dressing his wound. “All good.” She announces, and he turns over to stare at his hand, expecting to see vestiges of blood and a nasty bite mark. He peeks under the bandage to find that it is merely aesthetic at this point, for there is nothing but perfectly healed, clear skin under it, a very faint half-moon scar where the infection should be. He looks at her in confusion and all she offers is a charming wink. Professional secrets.

Heisenberg spotted his hat placed neatly on the couch, and his hammer right beside it, though he did not recall how they had come to be there. He once again began to feel like himself with the weight of the hammer in his hands and the raggedy hat in its rightful place atop his head. Charismatic, glib Heisenberg, confident as all hell and twice as clever. Cold, calculating Heisenberg, who had been given an opportunity and bargaining chip and wouldn’t let his anger get the best of him. His fingers had reached for the doorknob when she poked him, a small lidded pot fastened with fabric in her hands.

“Take a left at the crossroads and I trust you will have no issues finding your way back.” She handed him the bowl with a smile, as did he in return. “I hope to see you again soon. Godspeed, Lord Heisenberg!” Were her last words as she pushed the door closed, and just like that, he found himself once again in the foggy forest, nothing behind him but trees and the sound of critters roaming the night.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x oc #virgil writes #yeeee

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

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The Mystery Mom

This was a commission but the lovely person decided to keep it anonymous. I had a lot of fun with this one and the description of Wendys mom came from the creative client. I hope you enjoy this and this is my first fic for Gravity Falls! Enjoy :)

Characters: Dipper Pines, Wendy Corduroy, Connie Corduroy (OC)

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Word Count: 2K+

----

Over the years Dipper Pines had seen some things. He was used to the unimaginable and the hard to explain. Whether it be small gnomes that tried to date his sister, a delusional boy with too much hair spray who also tried to date his sister or a demon that almost destroyed the world, he had seen almost everything.

He loved the mysterious and returning to Gravity falls for the fifth year in a row was going to be nothing short of that. One of the biggest conomdromes is how the small town had stayed quiet and hidden from the rest of the universe. He still couldn’t grasp that one.

However, no matter what the environment or mythical creatures that lurked about did, the people who inhabited the town had taken to his interest much more. Mable had always been the people person, that was a no brainer. Her ability to make friends in a minute or create a scene of positivity had always put a smile on his face and made him question if they were truly twins. On the other hand, he was much more quiet and asked the questions that not many would suspect, but in Gravity Falls, you get used to the Pines twins.

Dipper parked the car in the back of his uncle's infamous Mystery Shack, well now it belonged to Soos, but the twins were allowed to stay in the attic just like they did all those summers before. The motel in town was haunted and he would rather not be interrupted in his sleep by a ghost asking about Summerween.

“Well I’m off to see my gal pals.” Mable said as she closed her door and flashed him a smile that finally didn’t have metal anymore. The day those braces came off, she ate literally everything she couldn’t before and got the worst stomach ache of all time, Mabel thought it was worth it.

“Tell Candy and Greata I said hi.” He responded and she went inside to chat to Soos before grabbing the keys to the golf cart.

Dipper took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air of the vast amount of trees that towered over the shack without a second thought. He adjusted his hat and looked around wondering where to start. A certain person came to mind and a smile broke out on his face as he began to walk into town where a certain family of lumberjacks lived.

Summer time was fun, not because of the absences of school but because you can relax and catch up with friends you may have not seen in awhile. Even though most people knew him, he only hung around a handful of people and the redheaded girl with the flannel was the one he cared about most.

The small bell rang as he entered the Mystery Shack. A smile came onto his face as he looked around the store and the memories came flowing in.

“What's up Dipper dude!” Soos cheered as he gave him a fist bump.

“Hey Soos.” He smiled. “Nothing much yet, just glad to be back.”

Soos let out a laugh before ruffling his hat. “Mr. Pines should be back tonight.”

“I’ll make sure to be back, I’ll see you later.” Dipper waved and turned to leave.

“Tell Wendy I said hi.” He heard Soos hollar just as he shut the door.

---

Dipper stood at the dark oak door. A singular antler, no doubt shot by her father, was used as the door knocker and he gave it three swift knocks. He pressed his ear to the door and noticed that there wasn’t much noise, which was a rarity in the Corduroy household. Usually the commotion of her brothers and axes swinging could be heard down the street but instead a peaceful silence was there.

He stood for a few more seconds and turned. “Must not be home.” he said to himself with a tinge of sadness. As he began to turn away, the lock started to rustle and next thing he knew, the door was open.

He looked up, expecting to see Wendy or even her father but his eyes trailed down to someone else. A woman just slightly shorter than he, his growth spirit came just as sophomore year did, looked up at him with bright green eyes and a bright white smile. A faintly lit cigar that was the largest he had ever seen in his life, hung out of the side of her mouth.

“Uh, Hi?” Dipper said nervously but he was met with a small chuckle.

“I assume you’re looking for Wendy?” The woman said and he nodded. “Well she should be back soon but you are more than welcome to wait for her.”

Dipper looked around nervously and she caught on to his hesitation.

“Oh where are my manners! I’m Wendy’s mother.” She stuck out her hand. “Connie Corduroy.” She turned her head and blew out a puff of smoke.

“Oh. Nice to meet you Mrs. Corduroy!”

“Please darling, call me Connie.” She gave him a wink and turned. He noticed that she sounded different from the rest of her family. He then remembered how Wendy mentioned that her mom was born in Canada and spoke some French.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and felt much more relaxed. She led him inside and he took this time to study her. The codorys were known for their big muscles, bigger tempers and fire red hair that you could see from a mile away. But looking at her, she was the exact opposite.

Long blonde hair laid perfectly underneath a forest green beret and Dipper didn’t think it was possible to see a dress in this household. She was also petite and much smaller than Wendy. The fact that she was the complete opposite of her daughter looks wise wasn’t what caught him off guard, but the fact that she had rarely been mentioned.

Wendy wasn’t one to always open up about her family and at one point Dipper thought that her mom might have passed but luckily she hadn’t. He never heard a lot of stories of her. All he knew was that she liked to set things on fire.

“Care for a drink?” Connie asked as she brought him to the kitchen. Quickly she took her cigar and snuffed it in an ashtray before taking a fresh one and lighting a match. “Some water maybe?”

Dipper nodded politely before taking a seat on the couch and looked around. He was surprised to see all the photos lining the wall. Most of them were family photos where all the kids were forced into matching sweaters or fancy clothes. It was a little odd to see Wendy in a frilly dress and her brothers looking perfectly calm in the photos. But even knowing how much she probably hated that frock, she looked happy.

“So, Dipper. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Wendy was so excited when she heard you were coming back to the falls.” She smiled as she handed him a glass of water and stuck a cigar in his mouth, silencing him for a second.

The taste of tobacco filled his mouth as a spark came to life at the end. He had never been a smoker but Connie sure was determined to make him one. He grabbed the glass and popped the cigar out of his mouth and held it in his hand, unsure of what to do with it. “It's one of the few things I look forward to every year. I might like it better than Mabel loves Halloween.” He said as the water washed away the sour taste lingering in his mouth.

Connie let out a laugh. “That must be your sister. Wendy said something about her fighting a unicorn and liking glitter.”

“That's the one.” Dipper said with a chuckle. “So Connie, what do you do for a living?”

Connie smiled and picked up a picture of her standing in front of an explosion. “You’re looking at a professional demolitioner! Basically I get paid to blow up abandoned buildings, cars and heck! Even bad guys!” She gave him a wink.

“That's so cool!” Dipper gushed and he opened his journal and started to jot things down.

“What are you doing?” She asked as she came over to look. Her eyes widened in admiration as he jotted more things down and even drew a quick sketch of her that was, surprisingly, accurate.

“Oh, uh sorry. I like to document many things and I started doing a journal about the people in Gravity Falls and it just happens that I have been saving this page for you. And now that I know you blow things up for a living, it makes a lot of sense of why Wendy likes to do that stuff too.” Dipper said.

Connie smiled and looked at a picture of Wendy on the wall. “She’s always taken after me. Unfortunately due to my work, I have to travel a lot. I get to see the most amazing sights but I miss being at home with my wild family.” She frowned slightly. “On the other side, I get to tell the greatest stories too. I once blew up part of Mount Rushmore for the heck of it. There used to be two more giant heads until I got to it.” She winked.

“No way.” Dipper flipped to a new page and began to write as she kept going on about her adventures.

“Then there was that time in the rainforest where I saved an endangered group of rattlesnakes from a group of hunters.”

Dipper looked up from his journal. “Did you blow them up?”

“No of course not! But I did knock them out a bit.” She laughed as she held up her arms and flexed her muscles. “Yep even in a dress, I can kick some butt.”

“I don’t doubt that. I see a lot of you in Wendy and I’m happy that I got a chance to meet you.” Dipper smiled brightly.

“Well I’ll be going on a small business trip next week, real short stuff but should be back before summer ends. Maybe I’ll have more stories to tell you kids. Wendy always makes me go into extreme detail.” She laughed.

Suddenly Dipper’s phone chimed and he checked his new message. “Oh Wendy said she would meet me at the lake. Thank you for telling me all this, it was really nice meeting you.” He said as he got off the couch.

“Ya know Dipper. Not only do I blow things up, but I can travel by them too.” Connie said as she walked towards the back door and ushered him to follow.

He held his journal to his chest as he looked at the monster before him. “Y-you’re kidding right?” He shuttered.

Connie barked out a laugh before slapping him gently on his shoulder and walking up to the massive canon. “I do love a good joke but this is far from it. This will get you to the lake in a flash.”

After a few minutes of debating if he wanted to risk his life flying through the sky and a contract being signed, Dipper was seated in the dark red canon wearing a helmet that was slightly too big and smelt like maple syrup.

“All set?” Connie called from below before taking her cigar from her mouth and lighting the fuze with it. Dipper didn’t even get a chance to say anything before his body was being propelled through the air.

He shut his eyes tight as he felt the wind run through his hair and he made sure to put his hat and book into his backpack. The second he opened his eyes, he heard a sound come from above and suddenly a giant parachute opened above and helped guide him to the ground. He saw Wendy waving at him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as his feet came to the ground. Due to the momentum of the wind, he stumbled head first into a bush and let out a small yelp as Wendy rushed over to help him.

“Woah, Dipper! You okay?” She asked as she took his hand and pulled him up.

He let out a laugh as he unclipped the harness and plopped his hat back onto his head. “Yeah I’m alright. Never been shot out of a canon before so that's a first.”

“Shot out of a canon?” She asked.

Dipper smiled. “Yep. By your mom actually.”

It was Wendy’s turn to laugh. “That makes a lot of sense. I was planning on us going there after the lake but guess you beat me to it.”

“She's really nice. You’re a lot like her.”

Dipper had known Wendy for many years and rarely seen her ever blush or get flustered but he assumed that Wendy thought very highly of her mother due to the compliment.

“Thanks Dipper. I hope when I’m older I’m more like her.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you will be.” He said just as they walked to an ice cream stand.

“She said she was leaving today but I’m glad you got to meet her, she’s pretty cool.”

Dipper laughed. “I’ll say, she blows things up for a living.”

They ordered their ice cream and took a seat on the bench. Suddenly they looked to the sky to see something speeding in the air. Wendy squinted her eyes and a wide smile came to her face as a twinkle in the sky appeared.

“Looks like she left.” Wendy said. “She loves that canon.”

“Well I hated it.” Dipper chuckled.

“You’ll get used to it.” She bumped his shoulder playfully.

“I prefer to be on the ground thank you very much.” He stated.

Wendy barked out a laugh and they spent the rest of the day walking around the lake and listening to stories of Wendy’s amazing mom.

———

I hope you liked it :)

#gravity falls #dipper pines #gravity falls fic #wendy corduroy #gravity falls oc #thewritingstar #thewritingstarcommission

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bicon-korra · 5 years ago

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Entrapta Week: Free Day

Beast Island Log: Property of Entrapta

Summary: Entrapta logs her daily life on Beast Island and starts to uncover a mystery…

[Written for Entrapta Week - Day 7 (Free Day), 1,700 words, notes in tags]

Beast Island Log: Day 1, Entry 1

My name is Entrapta of Dryl. I was banished from the Horde to Beast Island on Force Captain Catra’s command. Before leaving the Horde, I managed to sneak one of my precious voice recorders with me. I may be a prisoner, but I’m still a scientist, after all!

When I first heard tales of Beast Island, I imagined this mythical land inhabited by savage creatures. No one, and I mean no one, told me what a treasure trove of First One’s tech this is! The possibilities for transport, shelter, food gathering, you name it, are endless! I don’t know how anyone can dispose of such beautiful equipment! One man’s trash is another’s treasure, I suppose. I just need to figure out how to clean up their data. It looks like most, if not all, the files are corrupted. Should be simple enough.

Beast Island Log: Day 1, Entry 2

I suppose I should introduce myself. I am a princess of Dryl, where I was born and spent most of my life. In a strange turn of events, I joined the Princess Alliance led by Princess Glimmer of Bright Moon and her co-leader Adora-slash-She-Ra. I was left behind in the Fright Zone on a dangerous mission, and that became my new home. The name sounds scary—kind of like Beast Island—but it’s not as bad as it sounds! I was actually pretty happy there. I had friends: Scorpia, Hordak, my dear Emily...Catra was my friend, too. And then she wasn’t. I try not to dwell on it too much. I’m trying to stay positive. These technological monstrosities are my friends now.

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 1

Today, I will try to determine what’s food and what’s not food. I’ve been studying the eating patterns of the creatures that most resemble mammals, if you can call a four-eyed winged primate-looking-thing a mammal. They mainly thrive off of a spiky fruit that grows inside the trees. There’s another creature with razor-sharp claws that digs the fruit out of the trunk to grab them. It only grabs what it needs to and the rest fall to the ground for other creatures to eat. Fascinating.

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 2

I extracted the juice from the fruit. If it was poisonous, I figured my forest-dwelling friends wouldn’t have survived this long. Boy, was it tough to peel! I’m going to name it scorpion fruit because of the stinger-shaped spikes on its skin. Earlier I put a drop on my wrist to test for an allergic reaction. There was no reaction, so then I put a drop on my tongue and waited for one hour. So far I feel fine. It didn’t taste bitter either. I’m going to try two drops next time, then three.

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 3

My three-drop feast of scorpion fruit has made my stomach just as ravenous as some of these creatures. I’m going to take a small bite now and wait thirty minutes. I drank enough water (thank the First Ones there’s fresh water here!) to purge if I need to. There may be food yet!

Beast Island Log: Day 2, Entry 4

I’m on my second scorpion fruit and nothing has tasted better.

Beast Island Log: Day 3, Entry 1

I managed to scrape some parts together to make a small radio. Problem is, I can’t find the right wires to make my antenna. The bigger problem is these corrupted files. To fix them, I’ll need to charge these machines and most of them are hanging by a thread. Still, they’ve managed to stay alive this long, poor things.

Beast Island Log: Day 3, Entry 2

I discovered another edible root. It’s very tough and stringy, but I found boiling it made it more edible and savory in general. I miss dessert, especially tiny ones.

Beast Island Log: Day 3, Entry 3

Day three on Beast Island, and I’m in a strange state of peace. Of course I miss my friends and my lab. But here? Here I have the opportunity to learn an entirely new skillset. A wilderness explorer, imagine that! Hordak always said that my optimism was somewhat unnatural, but I never knew what he meant until now. I probably have Scorpia to thank for that. She’s the most positive person I know. If only she could see me now. Friends, if you’re listening, I’m going to be okay! Everything will be okay.

Beast Island Log: Day 4, Entry 1

I ventured deeper into the forest to find food that isn’t berries and roots. It’s hard to describe, but I felt a slight vibration coming from the ground. If I close my eyes and listen, it’s almost as if there’s a humming sound all around. Perhaps the area is magnetized? I want to go further in, but I don’t think my forest friends would like that.

Beast Island Log: Day 4, Entry 2

As I suspected, some of these creatures are not very friendly! I came across a small nest near the foot of a tree. I wonder if it fell from the branches. It had small blue eggs with red speckles, similar to bird eggs. I was tempted to hold one, just to get a sense of its weight, until I saw what I presume was its mother. As expected, she saw me as a threat and flew towards me, squawking like mad. I managed to run fast enough into the bushes where she couldn’t reach me. I realized that my body does not handle cardio well. Exercise is not my forte, but I’ll have to add that to my list of survival skills. I’m famished now, so until next time!

Beast Island Log: Day 5, Entry 1

I made a new friend today! As in, actually made one. Her name is Tiny Emily. She’s a cute little thing, the size of my fist. She rolls around while I’m sleeping and alarms if she senses any creatures that come close. These woods can get scary at night, so now I have a protector.

Beast Island Log: Day 6, Entry 1

Today Tiny Emily and I explored one of the marshes just outside the giant scorpion fruit tree. There was some sort of hut, mostly branches and leaves, that something had made. I need to do more exploring.

Day 6, Entry 2

There is definitely a buzzing sound coming from the island’s center. I know because Tiny Emily and I have been marking the perimeter and listening very closely. I wish I had equipment that could help detect the sound wave patterns. I could make one; I just need the right parts and the power. Well, that’s why I have ears! Sometimes you don’t need fancy tech. Sometimes.

Beast Island Log: Day 6, Entry 3

Today was our first rainy day. The first thing we did was take cover under the husk of an old battle tank. I’ve learned to treat every element as potentially dangerous. We determined that the rainwater is safe, so we’re safe. The battle tank was also a fortuitous find. It helps block out water and wind and offers protection from predators.

Day 6, yes 6. Entry 3? 4?

Remember when I said the battle tank was safe? Well, I’m afraid I spoke too soon. The metal is very rusty and corroded and a piece of it fell when the storm outside picked up. We’ll have to seek shelter elsewhere since these machines aren’t structurally sound. Perhaps the hut we found? It looked sturdy enough. I’m very nervous to leave the junkyard in favor of the forest. I find that I don’t do well with bugs and mud. Oh well! There’s always danger in exploration.

Beast Island Log: Day 7

We had a close call today. Tiny Emily rolled down a hill and nearly fell into the river! Though we did make another important discovery. We found a spear near the water. The dexterity and attention to detail needed to craft such a tool...Could we still be dealing with some sort of animal? If something could make this weapon, I’m not sure I want to find out.

Day 7, Entry 2

We found another spear. The pointy end was charred, like it was used to cook food. We found a nest of grub nearby, so perhaps that’s why. We’re not talking about an animal anymore, not even close.

Day 8

I’m not alone on this island.

Beast Island Log: Day 8. 9? Entry 1

We circled the areas where we found the hut and the spears and found an abandoned campfire. No traces of footprints. I would normally never say this, being a practical scientist, but it’s as if we’re tracking a ghost.

Day 10

It has been ten days on Beast Island. I know I just got here, but something inside me is itching to explore the forest, as if it has all the answers I need. I won’t lie. I am frightened. Tiny Emily has been chirping away these past two nights. This might actually be the first night where I feel far away from home.

Beast Island Log: Day 30, I think. Entry 1

I’m afraid I’ve been a very bad scientist. This is the longest break I’ve taken from creating my logs, probably ever! Whoever made the hut and the spear is nowhere to be found. Me and Tiny Emily have searched everywhere. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with finding them. Maybe it’s someone like me who was sent here. Maybe they came here on their own. To explore. Or to escape. I’ve thought of every possible scenario as to why this person would want to be on this island and I cannot find a single reasonable answer. I don’t know if people were truly made to be alone. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe that’s my problem...

I’m going to keep exploring. I’m going to find whatever is out there and share with them what I know about how to survive on this island. And maybe, together, things will be okay. It’s dinnertime. Signing off.

[WARNING: LOW BATTERY!!]

#writing #entrapta #entraptaweek #entrapta week #she ra #spop #my writing #notes:#it's really short (I could write countless entries) and I know nothing abt technology but here we are!#blah blah

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b-kitsune · 5 years ago

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Many ways to say I love you: Day Twenty Four.

Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Prompt: Prophecy. Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Fantasy!AU. Status: Part 2/3

He made his way through the crowd of people who were at the Holt family's house, ordering the last details of the wedding to be held in a few more hours. People were running hurriedly while they waited for Matt who had headed deep into the forest during the early hours of the morning, looking for the ideal flower to complement his wedding gown, a millenary tradition by his race from which Pidge had Spoken a few weeks ago.

Everyone was eager and excited for the new union. Keith was too, his dearest friend was going to marry the man he had loved for most of his life, but everything seemed too strange and uncomfortable as he searched for a suitable place to rest properly. Natural beings used to be extremely bustling with family matters, except for the dark elves, that everything developed in the most reserved and discreet way possible. Living together with the Holt family had been an adventure for him. But Keith wasn't regretted in the least. He just needed a couple of minutes in silence.

When he left the house and began to walk through the large branches of the tree that held the residence, he watched carefully as everything connected wonderfully.

For many years, Keith heard from his parents about Olkarion as a mythical place where natural beings of different races lived in balance, united with nature in a tall city that was supported by large tree hundreds of years old. Keith thought his parents were exaggerating, but when he arrived many days ago in the city for the celebration of marriage between Shiro and Matt, he couldn't take his eyes off the entire structure. The houses were attached to the branches in such a way that it seemed that the same tree was responsible for protecting them, while everything was connected through the branches and pulley systems. The floor looked far beneath his feet like he walked to find somewhere to sit.

Certainly, the person who dared to visit the city of heights, as his mother told him when he told her about Olkarion, didn't have to suffer some kind of vertigo.

He walked away enough not to hear the cries of the house, and in the distance, he could see a hair he would recognize anywhere in the world. With an ornate hairstyle in several metal flowers that crossed over a braid to give the appearance of a crown, and an orange dress like the leaves of the city covered up her feet in an elegant fall, reminding him of autumn, while her wings were covered by lightweight material. Pidge looked to his way when see him approach her place with a wide smile. Keith thought that at any moment she would disappear from the world.

''What?'' Pidge asked once she saw that Keith was only by her side without saying a word. ''Do I look very different?''

''You look like a nymph.'' Keith said suddenly, Pidge laughed loudly releasing a loud throat that came from the bottom of her throat.

''I'm a nymph, Keith.'' He under distressing sight knew she was a nymph, but at that moment that reality had never hit him in the face. ''I guess I look very different without my armor and my helmet.''

''The armor hides your appearance to defend yourself, that's what is made for, Katie.'' Keith took one of the strands that fell on her face to take it behind her ear. ''You look good, really.''

''Well it was enough to leave you speechless for a moment, so I guess so.''

They entwined their hands as they sat together on the branch, the view was towards a meadow where the leaves fell when the wind blew, and houses were lost insight to the horizon where hundreds of colors mixed, it was certainly a wonderful sight.

''I hope Matt is not so nervous...'' Pidge said softly, Keith snorted when he remembered the house as complete chaos before leaving. ''Before he went to look for the flower it seemed that at any moment he would have a heart attack.''

''I can imagine it; I went to see Shiro a few hours ago and Lance could barely comb his hair.''

''Oh gods...'''' Pidge laughed trying to imagine. ''I hope they don't end up crying while reading their vows.''

''That will make Hunk start to cry.'' Keith added. ''And if Hunk cries, Lance will too.''

''This will be as terrible as when Hunk married with Shay three years ago.''

''Was here?'' Keith asked interestedly, it had been long before he joined his group. Pidge nodded animatedly releasing her hand to draw figures in the air when she spoke.

''They were so nervous that they stumbled when they left the chapel. Shay was stepping on Hunk's feet during the first dance, it was a spectacle.''

''I will pray to the gods for Matt to step on Shiro's feet during the dance.''

''Keith, how bad you are!'' They began to laugh imagining that situation in the next few hours.

''I want to have those memories with you too.'' Keith said taking her girlfriend's hand again. ''Besides, I've never been to a marriage.''

''Seriously?'' Pidge questioned incredulously; Keith nodded. ''Dark elves don't marry or what?''

''We do, it is just that it is a very personal ceremony, and no one can enter the room when two people are joined by the ancestors.'' Keith looked up when he heard the leaves move in a strong breeze, Pidge watched him patiently. ''What happens inside those walls, is one of the greatest mysteries of my people.''

''And you can't ask them when they leave?'' Keith laughed at Pidge's curious gaze, he didn't understand her interest in his people, but he loves it. In general, they were avoided by everyone because of the prejudices they had for being exiled beings from the kingdom of Alfheim.

''It's like disrespect to do that, it would be like asking someone to undress in front of you.''

''Ahh, I see, uncomfortable and everything.''

''Exactly.''

Keith sat up closer to Pidge when he brought her to his body to hug her and fit her face over her head, the ornaments of her hair felt cold on her skin and although for a moment thought he would dishevel her, but she settled into his chest to get closer to him. Soon the dream began to affect him, yawning hard while complaining. Although he had become slightly accustomed to staying awake when the sun was rising while traveling with his friends, Keith was still a dark elf, and being awake during the day was extremely difficult for him.

''You better rest a little more Keith.'' Pidge said moving away from a little more to look directly at him. ''The ceremony will be during the afternoon; you don't have to be up all day.''

''No.'' He looked away a little sorry for his words. ''I want to see where you come from, that's why I woke up earlier than I considered.''

''Ohh...'' This time it was Pidge's turn to look the other way, feeling her cheeks feel red with shame. ''Well if you want ... I could take you to an important place in Olkarion.''

''That would be good, let's go tomorrow.'' Pidge shook her head before rising abruptly and falling down the branch with force while using her wings to lean on without falling, with a look that asked him to follow her, his chest felt warm, he loved her energy. ''Pidge, I don't think we have time.''

''Don't worry about that, where we go there is no need to worry about time.''

...

They walked for various minutes through the dense weeds that didn't allow passage easily, moving away from houses and the city. Pidge said nothing at any time and Keith began to get a little impatient about the very enigmatic way in which his girlfriend was acting.

His eyes could easily move down the road once sunlight was lost between the vines, although Pidge's wings clinked a faint light to indicate where he was. After a couple of minutes of walking in an unknown direction, Pidge stopped.

A moonlight was seen from the distance, there was a room in which several fireflies flew around while only the dripping water was heard somewhere along the way. He didn't realize that a silver-haired woman who contrasted sharply with her skin was in front of them until she moved from their way, like an elegant breeze that barely made a small noise.

Keith was impressed that she was able to find herself in that place without problems. Pidge, however, ran to hug her tightly.

''Good to see you again Allura.''

''Likewise, Pidge. I see you have grown quite a lot.''

''Not really, I remain exactly the same since the last time.'' Pidge approached along with Allura towards Keith with emotion. ''He is Keith, he has joined us for almost a year.''

''Oh! Lance came the other day to tell me about him, it's a pleasure.'' They held hands for a moment, but Keith was able to feel the overwhelming magic of her body. She was not a normal woman.

''A pleasure.''

''Allura is an apprentice to be Altea's oracle. She stays in this cave to learn to manage her powers and will integrate into the marriage during the night.''

''Does the sun affect your powers?''' Keith asked, she nodded politely.

''I can go out from time to time, but I am in a stage of my training in which I feel very sensitive sunlight, so I stay hidden in this room until I get a better balance.'' Keith nodded, watching Pidge talk to her about his last adventures. They seemed really close and he was happy that Pidge was so excited.

''Do you know Keith? This place is something very sacred to my people.''

''Seriously?'' He returned to her when he was pushed towards the center of the room.

''Here you can ask the gods about the future of an important decision in your life.''

''How a prediction?''

''No, the prediction usually conjectures that something is going to happen. This is much more accurate, considering that seeing the future of beings whose freedom makes decisions vary, this is pretty cool.'' Keith nodded when he watched her smile excitedly about what she was telling him.

''So, it's something like...''

''A prophecy.'' Allura interrupted as she moved closer to him, her eyes looked slightly cloudy, as if a spell had reached her. ''And I can feel that the gods have something to tell you, Keith...''

''Allura?''

Pidge tried to reach her to see if her friend was fine, but Allura held Keith's arm so tightly that the moonlight on the walls darkened for a few seconds while her boyfriend's eyes clouded in an instant. After a few seconds, they both separated with surprise.

''Sorry, I still don't know how to use my powers correctly.'' Allura apologized, but Keith brought her hands to his body, somewhat altered.

''It's okay.'' He said after a few seconds in silence, Pidge approached him fearfully.

''Did you see anything?''

''Yes, I ... I saw something that I thought would be impossible.'' He looked up at Allura, who still looked worried. ''Are you sure it's something that will happen?''

''Of course.'' Answered determined. ''I've never been wrong about what I've predicted.''

''How are you so sure?'' Keith questioned; this time more worried. ''The future can change with every decision; it is not possible to be so reliable.''

''Excuse me?'' Allura put her hand to her chest, clearly disgusted by Keith's words. ''That you have seen something that hasn't been to your liking does not mean that my skills are mediocre. I always succeed!''

''That doesn't mean that your powers may fail from time to time.''

''Keith.'' Pidge stopped him when she saw that both would begin a strong discussion. ''Allura tells the truth, she is always right.''

''How are you so sure?'' He asked annoyed, but she looked away at her friend, there was sadness in her eyes.

''Because my prophecy was fulfilled.''

''What?'' Keith asked confused. This time it was part of Allura to be scared, taking Pidge's hands, worried.

''Don't tell me that…''

''No.'' Pidge stopped her friend's train of thoughts. ''They didn't hurt me, Keith arrived before it happened.''

''What are you talking about Pidge?''

''Do you remember the night we met?''

Keith nodded slowly, scared about what his girlfriend was trying to make him understand. Many times, she woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and completely frightened when she remembered the time he had saved her from a mortal destiny.

Pidge smiled warmly.

''My prophecy was that, if I traveled the world, no matter how strong it made me, I would find my death in the hands of a group of goblins cause of my imprudence. And only a man of the night would be able to stop my destiny.''

''So…''

''Basically, it was my destiny to die that night.'' Pidge answered heavily; Keith's heart flipped in pain at the thought. ''But thanks to you being there, everything changed.''

''The prophecies always have outputs.'' Allura added a little quieter. ''And you know yours, Keith. When it's time, use it.''

''Yeah...'' He whispered awkwardly; Pidge took his hand hard to direct him to the exit.

''Time doesn't run here, but we better go home. The road will take a while.''

''Yes, you're right. ''He was still thinking about what he had seen. Before leaving, he looked at Allura with a soft look. ''Thanks, Allura.'' She smiled back while watching them leave.

''You're welcome, Keith. See you at night.'' And with a nod from both of them, they left the caves to go outside. Allura felt her mice perch on her shoulder, looking curiously at the couple as they recriminated her. ''I know that I also predicted that this man was going to be Pidge's soulmate, but I couldn't contradict her at that moment!

#peith #kidge #kidgefanfic #monthofkidge #kidgeapalooza #kidgeapalooza 2019 #keith #keith kogane #keith (voltron)#pidge gunderson #pidge holt #katie holt #voltron #voltronship #fantasy au #allura #shatt

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jadbalja · 5 years ago

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The Lights of Luanda

The Man says: Ah, if only you could see what I see from here, from this tiny window, into the darkness. The deep, ineffable darkness of 30,000 feet of night, down to those glimmering lights of an African city. Lu-a-nda. Looh-and-ah. A place of dreams, unguessable, unknowable. It might as well be mythical. If this little scrolling map in my little private screen didn’t tell me, would I have known? If only you could see. In this bubble we are, ‘up above the sky so high’.. And down there, what lives are led in the glow of the lights? What generators, what factories churn to produce this faint shine that our alien eyes see? That through this little porthole of reinforced glass, I receive on my retina, which is then processed by my meat-brain to become thoughts. Thoughts that I say to you, my friend.. my confidante? What a delicious mystery it is. What an invention. What a living tragedy that those who are down there and me up here will never know each other’s story, even as we share the same light. That I cannot share the warmth of their lamps without risking death?

Isn’t that a delicious irony. We travel so we can reduce the distances between us and our work, but it only gives us a greater sense of the distances that do separate. Like between man and woman. We think we know each other, my friend — but I am not sure that there is ever a real knowing. Every year I feel touches more fleeting, colder than before. Even sex becomes a commonplace, something that once held mysteries, now only seems a fragile bond, which momentarily unites, only to rupture, to show that there is no true union. Just a squelch of bodies, a gush of fluids. But deep inside, there is a terrible hunger. To know. To feel, to be less alone. To feel that through another person, we might yet just live. A little more, a little longer. Yes, to be inside another is a wonderful image. But it is a better image than it is an action. Because we can’t be truly the same. We can’t be the single person that will become greater than both of us.

Once we had dreams, my friend. Oh — don’t go. Stay, listen. I have so much to tell.

The rush of these giant engines outside drowns my voice. And dare say, my thoughts too. I am just a particle, lost in the stream. So. The dreams. I had them. Now they feel attenuated, frayed. I am not sure if these are dreams I am holding on to, or rather just their facsimiles — old copies that are still legible, still making sense. But not satisfying the way the crisp font of an old dream is. The certainty of the dreaming. The rush of feeling when one feels possibilities. Don’t you think? Don’t you feel? How this metal cylinder itself is the culmination of some madman’s dream? That men could fly. And we do. But we don’t really fly. We sit. And even those who think they’re flying — they only push buttons. Oh Icarus. Perhaps it’s better to die than live — when the dream is realized.

We were just two people trying to make sense of it, you know. That there is something which can survive because someone said the word ‘love’. It was a dream. Can’t it be true? Must the world be cruel? Can’t we find Luanda? Can we ever land there? Is there an airport? Can’t we fly? Can we grow wings, giant engines in our hearts that go on forever, through vacuum, past passport control, past money and the need for fuel, into the future? That distant future which always lies 2,500 miles away, almost four and half hours of flying time? Can we not get the Promised Land? Can we not have it now? There are lights in Luanda, where there was darkness once. My heart is a place of darkness. I beg you friend, can we go where there is light?

The Woman says: Yes sir. Would you like more coffee?

Feb. 2009

#short fiction #luanda

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lula1991 · 5 years ago

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My Jewel

Summary

An ancient spell causes a millenary young lady to weaken, it is up to Larry and her friends to help her find the key to return her to normal while a stranger pretends, along with three already known individuals, to take over a captive jewel somewhere in Egypt with the in order to proclaim it “yours.” (The shock of all the chaos in her).

Objective? The guard and the exhibits must prevent it from falling into the wrong hands while between Ahkmenrah and the girl, a romance will slowly emerge that will bear fruit over time.

Genre: Adventure, comedy, romance, fantasy

Warnings: None.

Before starting with this chapter, I want to make a greeting and a general thanks for not forgetting those little people who gave this humble fic a chance. As promised by @underworldsheiress, I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you too! Hey! You know, if you want to be tagged so you don't miss out on this beautiful story, don't hesitate to tell me, you're always welcome :D💕

Chapter 3

Approximately a few moments remained for the Sun to hide between the buildings. Within the establishment of the Department of Egyptology at the University of Cambridge, a security man took a final look so that everything was under control, exploring the room and the resting place of an ornate and colorful sarcophagus halfway to bed with a small engraving in a metal plate next to it. Satisfied with his night watch shift, he left the millenary room whistling a nice tune to the exit marked with a bright green sign where the heavy metal doors closed causing a resounding echo when the keys clinked securing them..

When the sun went down, outside the museum it was observed how a strange glow completely illuminated the building and a strange magic floated in the air of Cambridge, especially when in the great and elegant chamber of the exhibition of the mythical country, at the end of the room began to occur leisurely movements within that sarcophagus.. A hand wrapped in worn bandages that hung and went in different lengths and thicknesses, peered through the union of the coffin and the lid thus until pushing it aside falling to the ground with a dry sound..

That figure sat up solemnly in the same interior, his feet responded to stand obeying to leave his resting place while maintaining his back position. He unscrewed the aged linen from his head, revealing a dark hair that was finely disheveled and impeccable despite the passing of the millennia and slowly placed a beautiful crown on his head..

— I've come back to life! — a female voice echoed among the murals, that sound was enough for at least three of the exhibits to kneel before their queen. Maybe they were servants ..

— Your Excellency. — it was a very pleasant speaking sound belonging to a girl, keeping her eyes on the ground out of respect.

— Highness, it is an honor to see her so stingy. — this was another female voice when she bowed to her.

— Yes, you don't notice the 6000 years at all.. — said another young woman and one of them rubbed her elbow.

— I missed your compliments, Ahesut. — the woman turned to the girl in turquoise dress, green orbs that accentuated her brunette skin while a small headband with gold leaf charms adorned her jet hair.

Ahesut: Really? — the young woman smiled as she did not catch the sarcasm of her queen.

— No. — It was short thin.

— Should we be right that you are here for a reason?

— My dear, Tahmenk, I have not returned from the underworld so many times for nothing. — the queen smiled gently as she walked through the huge, refined and picturesque site, displaying her tight black tunic with luxurious gold accents, an elegant style. —There is a rare treasure among us and I think everything is focused on what I hope for. It's not the tablet of Ahkmenrah, if you ask me. That stubborn young man has left this place several years ago. It is something the same or much more powerful than you think..

Tahmenk: And what can be more striking than that?

Ahesut: What is it, your Majesty?

The queen with an unknown name tilted her head to the side so that they would follow her to the address where her unknowns would be answered..

They stayed away being a few steps from a room inside the exhibition very fine and delicate in colors, it is what could be observed from their positions..

Ahesut: Wow! Is that what I was talking about? — absorbed, the young woman observed the ancient relic from the temple hall.

— So is. After that boy left the exhibition in the 50s, in the same decade they later chose to remodel his room once it was diverted to another site, then expose that brat and remove it later without his bracelet. — that said, she walked slowly followed by them. — Since then the piece remains here until who knows when. — the queen saw the jewel hung on the back wall covered with iconography by her ancestors, those writings that cared for and startled all her splendor. — If I'm lucky, it must be mine definitely and You are going to help me make my return a purpose.

Nehtatem: I think the confinement hurt you. — the girl said simply.

— Nehtatem, this is my kingdom and here I command. — she demanded when the three Egyptians looked at each other. — Go saying goodbye to everything, girl. — the queen murmured watching that precious piece with misgiving.

For being a young girl in years, she was quite clumsy and apparently, they three too..

Nehtatem: Do you have a plan? — the girl with caramel eyes inquired waiting for her queen's next move.

— Of course. — sis eyes didn't take off from there.

Tahmenk: Before the six-meter jackals take our eyes off? — but the tone she used was not very relaxed.

And the 6-meter guardians with small eyes approached the intruders with their spears..

— ’iilaa‘ asifal‘! (‘Down!’) — she ordered confidently believing they would obey her even if it didn't work out.

The lackeys came closer, and more, and more to those women of silly aura and perhaps of dubious darkness, the jackals were perfectly fulfilling their job of faithfully protecting what his mistress was not to blame for neglecting and they left running taking refuge from where they had been standing minutes ago..

Ahesut: Someone must watch those mangy dogs. — the brunette whispered, reloading on the wall and then peeking out and from that place the jackals still raised in arms.

— What a good idea, Ahesut! — she took her shoulders. — You will stay here!

Ahesut: But.. — without realizing the brunette said something intelligent.

— And you too! — she pointed to the tall, dark-skinned girl with brown hair, amber eyes and a cream-colored dress.

Tahmenk: Me? — the young woman pointed out.

— And you! — the queen pointed to the girl with candy irises, dressed in honey, owning a mahogany skin and braids that embellished her dark hair to her shoulders.

Nehtatem: But if the idea was of her. — she reproached very stunned.

— It's none of my business. — the woman released back to her post. — And I hope you contribute more than last time.. — she seemed dissatisfied, muttering with indifferent hope.

The Moon still shone in the sky and in the bowels of Cambridge, Ahesut sat against the mural feeling a strange heaviness in her eyes; she should not do what her companions agreed to or what her eyelids demanded although without realizing it, she was immersed in a deep sleep against her will.. Long seconds elapsed until her own snoring sound filled her ears causing her to wake up slowly but when her senses sharpened, it was moderately late..

Ahesut: Oh.. — she whispered covering her mouth. — No.. — without being able to do anything, the girl watched the scene as she bit her fist.

Nehtatem: What happens..? — she spoke and quickly sealed her lips with one hand.

Ahesut: Sh..— her friend stared at her while a humorous silence floated between them.

Nehtatem: Oh no, tell me it's not true, Ahesut. — she murmured and in that bad feeling she could read his gaze.

Ahesut: We must bear the consequences.

Yes, she was and they were in trouble..

— I told you to watch her!

Ahesut: It was an oversight, your Highness. — she released when playing with her fingers feeling threat.

— No excuse, Ahesut! How did you let it escape?!

Nehtatem: We believe it was removed at the request of someone important to another museum. — she hesitated playing with the bow of her honey-colored dress.

— Then there is no danger and while it is night, we can recover it if you know where it is. — their leader looked at them and they did not know what to answer. The queen's countenance changed radically from happy to furious. — Do you know it or not?! — the woman watched them at the same time without blinking.

That brunette-skinned girl moved her mouth but no words came out due to nervousness, it was a funny scene until a small sound left her vocal cords..

Ahesut: We also don't listen to which museum was to be exhibited. — she said in a squeaky voice out of fear. — It was a small jump before coming to you.

Nehtatem: Don't pay attention to her, she didn't do it but I did.. — the girl tried to make the queen ignore what she heard.

— Sure? — the queen tilted her face minimally by putting pressure on her. — Safe?!

Nehtatem: I think in the Smithsonian or something like that.. — and she spoke not very sure to remember it.

— ‘Something like that’ is not an answer, Neh.

There were some steps approaching at an agile pace..

Tahmenk: Majesty! The relic has disappeared! — the young woman warned and Ahesut slammed her hand against her forehead.

No one really knew who of the three was the grossest..

— Know one thing. — she spoke with a mysterious attitude when the girls retreated before their bearing. It was bewitchingly beautiful on the outside and a gray intermediate inside. — I swear if you don't get there, I'll personally liquidate them! Did you understand? — the woman warned when the girls nodded quickly. — Unexperienced! — and she turned around, dragging the long thin coat of her robe.

Tahmenk: There, where? — the young woman asked awkwardly when Nehtatem gave her friend a gentle blow to the head.

They came to infiltrate a cargo container plane and without raising suspicion, we found ourselves in the Smithsonian, the largest museum in the world, where the clumsy queen was with her not very intelligent three companions..

— Well, after going around in circles, we are where we wanted. — the queen thanked sarcastically.

Ahesut: Hey, don't look at me. I was not to blame for the truck deviating through that capitol.

— Walk! We have to find that jewel. — the woman demanded followed by them.

If they wanted to finish quickly, they had to do it effectively and it was the least they had, so they separated to check the basement of the entire museum. It turns out that the jewel was there, since they took their magic for granted when they saw the less recognizable exhibition replacements wandering around, a little fearful for those strange figures walking their "home." His search was thorough but without an encouraging result of where the relic could be found..

Tahmenk: I miscalculated the distance.. — the girl reported aphonic because of the fatigue of having been traveling from one maze to the other.

Ahesut: There is no sign of his objective. — who seemed to be the smallest in age slowly approached the queen.

— Don't tell me, Ahesut. And if you are not on this site, where else?

Tahmenk: How to know, Royal Majesty?

— I do not know. Think, with desire. — the queen suggested when the synapse might make contact between her neurons.

Ahesut: What if we ran to the device with wheels where we came after the mechanical bird and followed its route until we knew where it went?

Tahmenk: Don't be silly. Besides how to know what artifact it was in which we came, without they were all identical in the warehouse. Surely the jewel must be too far away now to find it..

Nehtatem, who seemed to be the moderately thinking, stretched out his face with one hand due to listening to the stupidities his companions had just said..

Ahesut: I don't believe..

Nehtatem: Don't listen to them, Your Highness. If it's any use, it must have been taken up in some of the galleries. What if.. — who apparently was the moderately thinking of the three suggested looking at all at the same time.

— Anyway, Ahesut, Tahmenk, don't stop inviting me when you release your brain.

Ahesut: It was a suggestion ..

—Dah! Walk! - the queen growled in response turning around.

When they left, they found themselves in the Northwest of the castle outside the public area, walking aimlessly through the hall of Egypt, where once Kahmunrah's exhibition was a good time on display and has been emptied to be diverted to another place later years, even without giving with that object, at least that was the panorama..

— Well, we got here and I don't see the jewel.. — the beautiful woman slowly slid through that sector visually looking for the relic. — Tell me Ahesut, why did I always listen to you, mm? — she raised an eyebrow while keeping a hand on her chin with thoughtful countenance without the young woman responding with something logical. — I need people ready for this. — she muttered, massaging her temples with her index fingers. —People who know how to govern, strategists, witty brains, with the impact of tragedy, the ingenuity of an emperor..

—‘Si cela me permet, Mademoiselle.’ (‘If you allow me, Miss‘) — a French accent spun on its axis looking at the little man standing by the threshold. "I am Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of France and I am effective pays his strategies. — he came walking to her.

—‘Enchanté, Monsieur’ (’Delighted, Sir’) — his French was perfect while the little guy kissed the back of one of his hands. — I think you were sent to me by the gods.

Napoleon: ‘Mercy.’ (‘Thank you’) I couldn't help hearing you need help, mona mi.

—What a retailer.

Napoleon: Oh, well, I'm French, I love the little things. But we do not deviate from the subject. We can help you?

—You, and who else?

Napoleon: My old allies and I, Ivan the Terrible and Mr. Al Capone, of course. — he mentioned them and the two missing ones appeared.

And she was fascinated, moreover, she seemed more a fanatic than a serious leader..

Al Capone: And what's your name, girl?

— My name is something I will not reveal for the moment. I must be frank, my dear helpers are not good support..

Tahmenk: Hey!

— And I need new generals to help me in my plan. Stay on my side and in return, I offer you the world, literally.

Al Capone: What was called boss has promised us the same thing some years ago..

Mm, it seems that the woman was facing a difficult audience as she rattled fingers with fingers devising an idea that made them more docile..

— That won't happen because my proposal is simple. What do you guys say? Do you agree?

Al Capone: Yes, yes, of course.

Napoleon: ‘Oui’ (‘Yes’)

Ivan, the Terrible: ‘Da’ (‘Yes’)

— All right. The moon still shines in the sky but time is short..

Napoleon: Short? Explain to me why you looked at me by saying short. — he drew his sword.

— I'm sorry, I slipped. — After that event the emperor pointed it out as a sign of being careful. — Gentlemen, I am looking for a rare jewel that without a doubt a spoiled girl that I have known long ago, she will try to recover it without rest and that I can’t allow it. But I must find a starting point to do it well and without failures. Suggestions?

Napoleon: I am an excellent strategist, my lady. I am the most qualified to start his plan. — he felt important.

— Can you think of something, little sir?"

Napoleon: I'm not small! I am huge, you are tiny, tiny and I am a great cat. Are you suggesting that moi is a mouse?

— I only said it because its size is very tender.. — and in that Napoleon imitated a feline when it threatens its prey. — What is your plan?

Napoleon: Why not focus first on the young woman, on trying to take reference points and use them against her to obstruct the arrival to that jewel that you so much desire..

— Keep going..

Napoleon: In addition, you could even take advantage of the situation by also going behind Ahkmenrah's tablet.

— Ahkmenrah's tablet? And what would I want her for? It is not my goal.

Napoleon: If you want to take over the world completely, I recommend it..

Ivan, the Terrible: My lady, you would be the successor of Kahmunrah and aspire to what he could not undertake. The world would not only be ours, but also his having those relics under his order. — he gave her an amazing idea that she accepted.

— If having both relics with me, there is a possibility that I will have to find a way to take over the world by starting a new regime in the attempt, why not? — she thought out loud. —You are starting to like me..

Al Capone: Girl, if you have enough guts, you would even avenge Kahmunrah, being loyal to her thought..

— I like it..

She smiled vigorously sinister..

Al Capone: What's next? — he looked at the queen and she walked with her hands on her back impatient the rest.

— You will initiate the plan.. — she pointed to the Emperor. — You'll find who I want out of my way.

Napoleon: And what name does she respond to? — the tall, elegant woman whispered the name in her ear. — How will I recognize her? — she whispered again giving him the exact information. — And what do you suggest? — his curiosity made the queen smile witfully.

Napoleon managed to infiltrate the Natural History museum disguised as a bonsai trying to find some signal to bring information to the silly queen, he didn't find anything until..

Ahkmenrah: Hey, what will you do after tomorrow's exposure? — the king seems to have gained confidence since he talked with Teddy, he wanted to know Larempteh's plans very interested while walking with the beautiful girl through the Asia section.

Larempteh: Is it an appointment proposal? Because I still don't know what I'm going to do.. — she stopped slowly until she was in front of him, she was very clever and that the young man liked that.

Ahkmenrah: Well, I do know..

He smiled about to kiss her as soon as from her side she copied her face looking first at her eyes, then her mouth and again at her orbs, he reached a hand around her waist feeling the ground and having no signs of hostility determined to host the palm drawing her to his face while the adorable girl caressed the elegant and large ornate piece that covered from the wrist to the middle of the forearm of the pharaoh shortening the distance thanks to the thrust of Ahk on his hip, now more, a little more, more and more until Jed's voice interrupted..

— Hey Ahk! Can you come for a moment?

Larempteh: I think we'll have to postpone this moment, your Highness. — the girl spoke in a low voice very close to him, the eyes were held with complicit adoration.

Ahkmenrah: Friends.. — he used a tone that made the girl laugh.

Larempteh: You have to go. You don't have to make friends wait. — she said to them to accommodate her cape.

Ahkmenrah: Sorry.. — he felt frustrated although he put a good smile between his teeth.

Larempteh: Calm down, go.. — the queen smiled at her and before the boy left, she stood in front of her.

Ahkmenrah: How do I look? — he put his hands on his waist opting for a historical profile.

Larempteh: Like a pharaoh. — she smiled and when praised, Ahkmenrah smiled back to continue on her way. The beautiful girl continued her route until she tripped over something. — Au! — she calmed the pain in her leg when she saw what she had hit. — You're not from here, or are you? — she asked addressing him.

Napoleon: Ah, it's that I'm new, little girl. — his accent is the only thing he couldn't hide among green leaves and branches that covered his face discreetly.

Larempteh: Since when do trees talk in this place? — she snapped up.

Napoleon: Ahkmenrah's tablet is powerful. It brings to life all the important figures in the history of the museum.

Larempteh: Oh yes? And I guess you must be very important, right?

Napoleon: In China, bonsai are iconic there. They love us. Larempteh: Really? I've been to China and it's the first time I've heard a bonsai speaking French.

To this the girl raised an eyebrow in sign of suspicion. The Frenchman no longer knew what to invent and preferred to change the subject..

Napoleon: Ah, don't look at my accent. I learned to speak it at the Flora Conservation Department in Paris. — he lied perfectly.

Larempteh: Ah.. — although she wasn't very convinced to say since it was a blind belief in her words.

Napoleon: So you are Queen Larempteh?

Larempteh: Who wants to know?

Napoleon: I'm just being polite. I thought it was great to be able to establish a bond with you since you are a pleasant young woman.

Larempteh: Well, I'm going to decide to believe you and not because I like you, that by the way I don't, but because I'm a person of values and respect. That's right, my name is Larempteh, High Blue Sapphire of the Nile, fourth queen of the fifth great king and ruler of the reign of my pharaohs. — in her refined voice, she presented herself with real distinction, feeling proud of her Dynasty.

Napoleon: Uh! It is a bit long.

Larempteh: They are my customs, it is shorter in Egyptian. — she made a gesture of downplay. — And what's your name?

Napoleon: I'm Chang.

And at that time Napoleon adopted a pseudonym, improvising to continue with the systematic model carried out..

Larempteh: Chang?

Napoleon (Chang): Yes, yes ..

Larempteh: Okey..

The girl still was still with ice law..

Napoleon (Chang): So queen, huh? And what makes an important queen like you?

Larempteh: What makes me important? Having been part of the most glorious dynasty in Egypt.

Napoleon (Chang): And don't you have something else that makes you special?

Larempteh: In what way?

Napoleon (Chang): Well then, something of value..

Larempteh: How what?

Napoleon (Chang): I don't know, you tell me.

Larempteh: I only have my crown and this precious usej. — the beautiful girl gently brushed her ornate and colorful jewelry.

Napoleon (Chang): I thought you would have something more important that highlights your imprint.

Larempteh: More important than a crown?

Napoleon (Chang): A jewel, maybe?

Larempteh: A jewel? I have no jewel with me. Where do you want to go? You know what, I have to go, bye.

She got fed up turning around walking steps that were heard in annoyance while the queen was being arrested by that subject..

Napoleon (Chang): No, no, no! Wait wait! Do not go! We can talk about something else. I'm sorry I made a bad impression on me.

Larempteh: Well, you did that.

Napoleon (Chang): I offer my sincerest apologies ..

Larempteh: Apologies accepted. I have to go.

Yes, it also turned out to be a difficult girl to convince when something was wrong..

Napoleon (Chang): Wait!

Larempteh: And now what?

Napoleon (Chang): Should we owe another talk?

Larempteh: I have nothing to talk to you, don't waste my time in silly things.

Napoleon (Chang): Let's start over, yes?

He tried to change her mind when she hesitated too much to listen to him, but since the queen had a good heart, she didn't want to be rude..

Larempteh: Okay, what do you want?

Napoleon (Chang): Let's forget that topic and put it aside. I want to know you a little more thoroughly.

Larempteh: What? — she frowned strangely.

Napoleon (Chang): You know. Arrive in a friendly way. Ask yourself and tell me about you, for example, I don't know, if you have a fiance, the man who holds your destiny.

And she narrowed her eyes I don't understand anything she was talking about or rather, not understanding why so much insistence on exchanging dialogues..

Larempteh: Don't you think you're too young to be talking about these things? — she looked at the new one oddly.

Napoleon (Chang): Young?! I am huge enough for anything. I'm over a thousand years old. — the obsession of its size made it clear that he wasn't very smart.

Larempteh: What a character.. — she whispered, accommodating his voice. — No, in fact, I don't have a fiance. Moreover, I didn't even choose one when I had time.

Napoleon (Chang): But what about the boy you were talking to..?

Larempteh: You were spying on me? — she asked shocked.

Napoleon (Chang): No, no, no, no! It was happening and I saw you chatting with him. I thought I was your boyfriend. You are a very pretty young woman.

Larempteh: Thank you, ignoring the fact that I am 4000 years old and that I am a mummy in perfect conservation, I accept your compliment. — she frowned strangely when his neutral voice sighed. — No, Ahkmenrah and I, we're just good friends. I think our parents know each other but it doesn't happen from there. The rest is history as they usually say..

Napoleon (Chang): How interesting.. — was gradually moving away, he had already got the information he needed. — Well, I have to go somewhere else.. — and increasingly, the girl's distrust began to grow much more than before. — Adieu.. Ah, I mean, Goodbye.. — he sneaked out running with curtains ahead and then chased by some samurai.

The Egyptian girl was thoughtful, too. That tree was pretty weird ..

She did not know why but at that moment she felt herself entering a trance for a few thousandths of a second and how a faint feeling would take her out of it..

Leaving the beautiful fountains of the exhibition of The Imperial Gardens of China, it was not long without this discomfort happening again..

Larempteh: How strange. — and raised an eyebrow while looking to the side.

The three girls were not included to hear another part of the queen's plan reunited with two of her minions, so they had to remain in an interior hallway of the Egyptian hall..

Ahesut: It's all my fault, if I hadn't fallen asleep none of this would happen ..

Nehtatem: Stop complaining, now it's no use anymore..

Tahmenk didn't pay much attention to what they were talking about just by listening to two people talking loudly through another of the doors leading to the basement..

— John, this ancient piece should be in a museum in Cairo at the latest in a couple of days and is still here, corroborated by the director of the Eastern Museum who, for issues he did not want to explain to me, cursed us by keeping a “nice” conversation I had on the phone!

— I'm sorry, Mac..

— You are responsible for paperwork, where the hell do you have your head?

— The paper said it came from the Neapolitan area for the Smithsonian. — he defended himself by chewing a piece of bread.

— It's not Neapolitan, it's Meridian. And the delivery agreement is from London to Egypt. You're so silly! Who taught you to read, a bear?! How did they get you here..?

Tahmenk: Cairo.. — she whispered.

Nehtatem: What's up?

Tahmenk: Cairo!

And she ran away followed by the two girls..

#ahkmenrah #rami malek #night at the museum #natm

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