#minding my business folding laundry and my brain went ‘i hope i die soon’ and i was just like ���ok ??? who asked. anyways!’

[virtualplushy]

healing is when you have an intrusive thought and instead of having a meltdown you go “girl what?? shut up” and move on

[imnotwolverine]

LOVE IS LIKE - Books and Babes

PART 1 Books and Babes | PART 2 >

Summary: As he travels home to London with his assistant Leah, Henry recalls some moments from his past, including breakups, ladies and that one book that keeps getting into trouble. 

Word count: 2.566

The song: Sweet - Love Is Like Oxygen 

Disclaimer: mentions of one-night-stands, breakups, bullying, hopeless love and weed smoking. Other than that it’s pretty much just comedic fluff 

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LOVE IS LIKE... books and babes

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‘Love is like oxy-gen,

You get too much,

you get too high..’

Henry mimed along with the music in his earpods, shuffling forward as the line of businessmen moved to the gate that would transport him to the plane taking him back to London Heathrow.

‘Not enough and you're gonna die--’

A short jab in his ribs made him look down at the glowing pink cheeks of his PA. She’d had to make a run for it.

‘Love gets you high-.’

With a quick fumble Henry killed the music, as he was greeted by one heavily panting Leah who pushed his lost book back in his large hands.

‘Found it.’ She smiled with another few long puffs, sweet sweat beading down her brow.

‘Leahhh.’ Henry sighed and shook his head with a laugh. ‘You know you didn’t have to do THAT.’

She chuckled. ‘And have you bother me all flight? Ohhh no, none of that.’

‘Like I’m such a pain.’ Henry winked, shuffling forward now the line before him was slowly funnelling down the long white tunnel into the plane.

‘Sometimes..’ Leah gave him a playfully chastising look before starting to quickly dig down her bag to find her ticket and passport.

‘Piers?’

Henry wanted to knock on his brother’s bedroom door, but halted, hearing something peculiar arising from the small confinement his oldest brother was hiding out in. Was that a..girl he heard giggling? Putting his ear flat against the rough oak wood, he listened more closely.

‘Do you like that?’ He heard his brother ask. The girl giggled again.

‘Stop it! Hahaha. Piers! Stop it!’

Henry felt his muscles tighten and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Was that Ellie? The blond girl that lived a street away? And was Piers...hurting her? His older brother truly was strange now he had full on hit puberty. Frowning, Henry looked down the hallway, his ears now picking up the sound of feet climbing up the stairs.

‘Did you call him for dinner yet?’ Marianne puffed out as she dragged a full basket of dirty laundry up the narrow steps, her face not managing to poke out over the large pile. Henry quickly straightened up and swallowed.

‘Eh..’ With a sharp knock he finally rapped on his brother’s door. ‘Piers! Dinner!’

Inside he could hear the panicked kerfuffle of what may have very well been clothing zipped up, but again Henry couldn’t be sure as he looked back at his mother who now lowered the basket in her arms. One conspicuously raised eyebrow from her was all it took to burn his cheeks a bright pink.

‘I wasn’t listening!’ He squeaked, though Marianne knew better.

‘Sure you did sweetie.’ She winked at him then tilted her head in the direction of Piers’ room. ‘Piers honey, don’t forget about what me and dad told you!’

With a swift swing the door was pulled open and one both terribly embarrassed and terribly annoyed Piers appeared in the door opening. ‘FUCK mom! Did you really have to --’

‘Language young man! ..Especially in front of ladies.’ Marianne looked over the shoulder of her lanky teen son to find the shy expression of one equally embarrassed Ellie.

‘Hello Mrs. Cavill...’ She squeaked before noticing the fiercely blushing young boy next to Marianne. ‘..Henry.’  

Henry felt his chubby cheeks burn even more. Oh why was he like this with girls?

‘This is not working out...It’s not you, it’s me...’ Her words swam in the back of his head, tumbling around like his brain had turned on the dirty laundry setting of his conscience. Henry felt nauseated, tired and utterly empty as he lay here on the couch of his friend, his hands folded over the phone on his chest. He had thought she was the one. Starry eyed and hair black as night. That smile throwing him off whenever he saw it. She was still the one, right? Why oh why did she not want to work through this? Why did this have to be the end? Why did she have to decide for him how to feel about all this? Why not put in the darn fucking work?!  

Looking to his right he heard the soft snoring of the puppy they had adopted only months ago. His body was all disproportionate with his floppy ears and oversized lanky paws. Henry sighed. At least he still had Kal.

‘Welcome Mr. Cavill and thank you for travelling with us.’ The pretty asian lady handed him back his boarding pass with a smile that was near inappropriately close to a flirt. Henry didn’t mind though. Mind a kind smile his large paw retrieved the most used book in his life: his passport, and stepped to the side as they checked Leah’s boarding pass as well. Leah did not receive that same flirtatious look, the asian lady barely offering Leah a glance as her eyes already roved on to the next business man who stepped in line.

Leah raised an eyebrow at him and Henry couldn’t help but offer his dear PA an even wider smile to compensate. ‘What’s the matter with you today?’ She asked, chuckling as her legs moved past him to start their way down the white tunnel of led lights and muffled blue carpet.

‘Absolutely nothing dear Leah.’ Henry smiled. Most women came and went in his life, but at least Leah was here to stay. Like Kal she was one of the few who were true friends to him.

In for it through thick and thin.

‘So what do you think of King Pellenore?’ Young Henry shuffled a little closer to the girl who was sitting on the other edge of the school yard bench. Rosy cheeked and hunched over in his hand-me-down blazer he eyed the sweet red haired girl that seemed to share his fascination with reading. They had worked together on a group project a week ago and he couldn’t help but be interested in her.

Finally she looked up, Anne, her brown eyes skittishly skimming over him before both their ears picked up the sound of a bunch of classmates laughing. Laughing at them. Him. With a small “o” on her mouth the girl quickly grabbed her belongings and rushed inside, leaving Henry alone on the bench, his hands nervously picking at his backpack as the other kids threw him some mean comments.

Fat Cavill. Nerd. Sissy. Fool!

Was he really such a failure with girls?

‘Kal! OH NO...KAL! Give that back!....naughtyyyy.’ Bent through his cracking knees Henry tried to reach for the book that his dog had snatched from the coffee table. But the pup was quick. With a cheeky side eye he glanced at Henry before sprinting down to the hallway, nails tapping on the slippery tile floor. He was near full grown now, but had antics in abundance - and sharp teeth to grab anything and everything he could drag around. Shoes, socks and his new favourite: books.

Chasing after the Akita, Henry followed him down to the kitchen; the home thankfully anything but large and with a few large steps he had managed to chase the dog into a corner, hands grabbing him by the collar before he pried the slimy book from his maw. ‘Oh well would you look at that..’ Henry sighed and tried to swipe some of the doggy drool off the leather bound cover. He had started to read King Arthur again, but his dog was clearly just as little a fan as his old classmates had been. Though of course the dog was not really being mean: he just thought it was time to go out, play, run, chase squirrels!

‘You are one cheeky bugger, you know that?’ Henry looked down at the Akita who sat down, looking up at him with big puppy eyes. It was hard to stay mad at him for long.

‘You sure you’re okay with this?’ Charlie settled down in the comfy hotel deck chair, the Californian sun burning down on their heads.

‘Why of course! I mean, I’ll still tease you like any good older brother. But you LOVE her you big Sissywat. Of course you’re going to marry her.’

‘Haa��’ Charlie sighed and looked at the pool where some women were lounging on sunbeds. ‘..well I guess here’s to the last days as a truly single man?’

Henry raised an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses. ‘I really don’t get how people think you’re still single before the ring’s on the finger.’ He sniffled as Charlie shrugged.

‘It’s just a saying, Hen.’

‘Well single or not, you better take good care of her, will you?’

‘Of course! Each and every day, with every make-up stain on my blouse and every cold foot giving me first degree freeze burns beneath the bed sheets.’ Charlie clinked his beer with Henry’s.

‘For better or worse!’ The brothers laughed.

‘Don’t want to stay for breakfast?’ Henry sat up to see his late-night ladylove squeeze herself back into her skinny jeans. Her round butt cheeks didn’t seem to cooperate and he had to resist from pulling her back into the bed so he could convince her to stay. 

‘No, thanks.’ She inhaled deeply so she could zip up the tight jean fabric. 

‘Will I see you again?’ Henry internally scolded himself for sounding so insecure. 

The woman shot him a confused look. ‘I don’t think I’ll be in London any day soon. It was fun though. Hey,’ She crawled up onto the bed and Henry rolled onto his back in hope she’d at least give him a kiss, her body folding over him. ‘ah there it is.’ With a swift hand movement she retrieved her bra from behind his pillow. ‘Gotta go, my cab is here.’ She pushed herself back off the bed and grabbed her bag. With one last glance and smile she was out the door. ‘Bye Superman!’ 

Henry felt his heart sink. Oh Henry you fool!

‘OH CRAP!’  The woman in the business class chair next to Henry shot up from her seat, hands pulling a book away from what appeared to be a fallen over drink. ‘Shitshitshit.’ She quickly bit her lip and anxiously started to look around for something to wipe down the mess. Henry killed the music in his ear.

‘Love is like.. --’

‘Oh dammit.’ She scrunched up her nose as she realised how much of the juice had fallen over her book; it was just about ruined, pages soaking up the berry purple colour.

‘Here.!’ Henry sat up and quickly grabbed some tissues from his travel bag; having a slightly messy dog taught you to always be prepared.

‘Thanks.’ The woman breathed, some staff now also joining in to help clean the mess and put the book on a tray before it’d contaminate anything else. It took a good minute before it was all cleaned and gone, the brown haired banana-sock-wearing business woman settling down in her chair with a sigh.

‘You alright?’ Henry asked. It was the first words they shared after a whole hour of flight, her attention first having been preoccupied with her laptop or..reading, which now seemed out of the question.

‘Yea..yea..’ She shook her head and looked at Henry. Mediterranean turquoise eyes hidden behind thick glasses, her low brown-haired ponytail slightly disheveled after being smushed into the seat.

‘Was it a good book?’

‘Yea..just some..old timer. Good ol’ ..King Arthur.’ She hushed the last words as if she felt awkward about admitting she was reading a children’s book.

Henry blinked for a moment as he looked at her, his brain short circuiting before he turned to rummage through his bags again.

‘Oh am I..Is there something on my face?’ She grabbed for her glasses and took them off to look at them with squinting eyes.

‘No no, please. Eh..’ Henry raised the chewed and mauled, but ever loved copy he had bought himself all those years ago. ‘..just..coincidence I guess.’ He reached out his rendition of King Arthur and His Knights to her.

‘Well have you there. Leather bound too!’

‘And absolutely destroyed, also. I think these books just ..beg..to be harmed haha.’

‘You have a dog? Or..’ She pushed her glasses back on her nose and let her finger trace over the large indents.. ‘..bear..perhaps?’

Henry laughed. ‘No no. Just a dog. A large one. But, deep inside still very much a sweet pup.’

‘Apologies.’ A flight attendant halted as the glassed woman turned to look up. ‘We are seeing to the drying of your book. Though I’m afraid we do not have anything to get the stain out.. -’

‘Oh, that’s quite alright. Please.’

‘Could we perhaps offer you a new refreshment?’

‘Some wine would be great. WHITE wine..’ The woman grinned. ‘..less chance of stains.’

The flight attendant nodded, before Henry quickly interjected. ‘I’ll have one as well.’

‘Chardonnay, Sauvignon?’

The woman turned to Henry and with a dapper smile he picked their choosing.

‘You just gotta be yourself man.’ Henry’s skinny, beanie-hatted friend spoke, inhaling the saturating smoke of his Red Dragon joint. The whole room was some kind of blue, bean bags scattered around the Californian apartment, people lounging and chilling in their daze.

Henry inhaled deeply and felt the wooze of a broken heart and drugs fight an odd battle inside his heavy chest. He felt both extremely relaxed and extremely wrong for being here; shouldn’t he be trying his best to get her back?

‘What if I never find anyone to be with me?’ The chubby boy inside him spoke, unsure blue eyes peering out at the ceiling that seemed to move and dance before him. The whole world had slowed down, but his mind tried its best to keep going.

‘Hey,’ His friend struggled up from his beanbag, making Henry fall to his side. ‘you’re a good guy mate. You hear me? You’re a GOOD guy. And if you’d be gay I’d totally..totally do you.’ His friend burst into a fit of giggles before he cleared his throat and shook his head to clear his mind. ‘No, but really. Don’t change for the girl, ever. Yea? You’re such a good guy.’

Henry wondered if this is what Kal felt like. 

Good boy! Good boy! 

‘Where’s your book?’ Leah had to speed up to keep up with the light long steps of Henry as they moved through the long airport hall for their connecting flight. Henry smiled and looked over his shoulder.

‘Who said it again? If you love something, let it go?’

Leah frowned and with a few more fast steps got in line with him. ‘You are a handful! You know that Cavill? I ran my lungs out to--’

‘Leah. It’s fine. I gave it to someone who I’m sure will love it even more than I could ever.’

Leah puffed and, from the way her cheeks already burned, Henry decided to slow his pace.

‘And if she doesn’t appreciate it, I can always buy a new one.’

‘She? Did I miss something?’ Leah hoisted up the bag on her shoulder and shook her head. ‘You and your romantic antics.’

‘Incorrigible Cavill.’ Henry mimicked her voice, before smiling down at her. Leah rolled her eyes.

‘You said it first!’

‘One very high man once told me I just have to be myself. So that’s what I’ll do. And who knows..’ he hinted at a Valentine’s day poster they passed by. ‘..Love is like oxygen!’

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Go to PART 2 > 

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@beck07990​ 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Crane Team: Bad News

“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little girl named Vasilisa. She lived with her father, a merchant, and her mother who was just as beautiful as she was. When Vasilisa was eight years old, her mother got sick and was about to die… but before she died, she gave Vasilisa a little doll and said, ‘This doll will help you. All you have to do is give it a little bit to eat and a little bit to drink, every day.’”

It was late at night. Erii and Yoko lay in the same bed in their nightgowns, holding hands, their faces so close together their breaths tickled each other’s noses. Erii’s eyes stared into Yoko’s as she listened closely, clinging to her stuffed bear. She’d heard this story before, but it was her favorite one.

“As soon as her mother died, Vasilisa was sad. So she did as her mother told her. She gave the doll a little to eat and a little to drink and the doll spoke and said. ‘Don’t worry Vasilisa. I will always be here to help you.’” Yoko pulled her body a little closer to Erii and her voice dropped to barely over a whisper. “About a year later, her father remarried to a cruel older woman. The new wife was a woman with two daughters but she didn’t allow her daughters to work. She made Vasilisa do all the cooking, all the cleaning and the laundry and made her take care of the garden and the pigs.”

“Whenever Vasilisa was so tired she was about to give up hope, she would whisper to her doll. And all the chores remaining for that day would be suddenly finished! So the stepmother gave her more and more work. But no matter how much she tried to make Vasilisa fail, the doll would make up for her lack and she would always succeed.”

“One day, young men knocked on the door. ‘We heard there was a beautiful and talented young woman here! We want to marry her!’ They said. But the stepmother would hide Vasilisa and take out her daughters and say, These are the women you were looking for.’ But her daughters were lazy and demanding and didn’t know how to sew a simple button. The men would leave disappointed.”

“One day, her father had to travel far away for business, leaving Vasilisa alone. Her stepmother decided to sell his house and moved them to a gloomy hut by the edge of a dark forest. When her father returned from his work, they were all gone and he could not find them.”

“One day the stepmother said, ‘Vasilisa, there is no wood for the fire… go into the woods and get fire for us from Baba Yaga.’ The stepmother said. The stepmother was sure that Vasilisa would never return from this task.”

“Vasilisa was very scared and asked the doll for help. But the doll advised her to go to the Baba Yaga! ‘Go into the forest before the sun rises to bring back fire from Baba Yaga.’ The doll said.”

“So Vasilisa stepped into the dark forest all alone. While she was walking, a mysterious man rode by her in the hours before dawn, dressed in white, riding a white horse. He was so bright, the forest was lit up by him as he rode by. And then the light faded away. A few hours later, when the sun was high in the sky, a rider came by on a red horse, wearing all red! And then, as the sun began to set… Black horse and a man in all black rode by her. And as he left, she came to a clearing and there was a very strange house.”

“This house had chicken legs for a foundation and it was walled by a fence of human bones. The night had fallen as the rider in black rode by and the skulls on the fence were glowing in their eye sockets. Vasilisa turned to run away, but as soon as she stepped back on the path, she heard it.”

Yoko slapped her hand on the mattress. “Thump! Thump! Thump! Out of the shadows of the night, the Baba Yaga was returning home, riding on her mortar. She was an ugly old woman with a lumpy face and huge eyebrows. Her eyes were so sunken under the folds of her skin that you couldn’t see them at all.

Erii’s hands clung tighter to the bear and she stared, barely breathing.

“Vasilisa said, ‘Baba Yaga, I have come for some fire to take back home!’”

Yoko made her voice soft like a scratchy serpent’s hiss. Her fingers curled like a claw as she pointed at Erii’s nose. “‘If you want my fire… You must first perform my chores. If you do not perform, I will turn your bones into an extension of my fence! First! Clean the house and the yard, then… wash my laundry, cook me some meals for the day!’”

“Vasilisa worked as hard as she could. But as soon as she swept the house, the dust would reappear. She begged for the doll to help. ‘Help me please!’ and the doll caused a breeze to sweep up the dust and hold it in the air. When she weeded the garden, the weeds would grow back as soon as she pulled them! ‘Help me!’ she said to the doll. So the doll caused insects to come and eat the weeds as they sprouted. And so it was. Vasilisa would do the work, but the doll would make sure the work stayed done!”

“Baba Yaga returned to her house and was shocked to see what was happening. She wanted to see how the girl was doing this. So she sat down on the floor of the hut and called Vasilisa.”

Yoko hissed again. “‘I have one more task for you. Separate poppy seeds from the dirt on the ground.’”

“Such a thing was impossible. Poppy seeds and dirt were hard to distinguish. She had no choice but to stand before the Baba Yaga and request the doll's help. When she did… hands with no arms and no one controlling them appeared from the air and perfectly separated all the seeds from the dirt.”

“At this time Baba Yaga seemed to understand and her bushy eyebrows lifted high. And she said, ‘AH!’”

Erii flinched and closed her eyes.

“She hurried Vasilisa out of the house. ‘I want no such power in my house! No! No! This is the power of a mother’s blessing and here is nothing that can overcome it!’ She gave Vasilisa the fire -- a skull lantern full of burning coals -- and sent her on her way home with instructions to bury the skull lantern when she was through with it.”

Yoko poked Erii in the side to make her open her eyes again.

“When Vasilisa got home. The stepmother and the stepsisters were singing and dancing in the garden that evening. Vasilisa didn't realize it but she had been gone for days! Her stepmother and stepsisters threw a party to celebrate her death. When they saw Vasilisa returning with the glowing skull from the forest shadows, they were suddenly terrified and afraid! They tried to run! But fire shot out of the skull lantern’s eyes and consumed them. Their bodies were burned to ash.”

“Soon after that, a rich merchant came by and found Vasilisa living by herself in a beautiful house that she had made all by herself. He wooed her and they married and went back to Moscow. She was so skilled that she caught the attention of the Tsar and lived the rest of her life in the palace.”

Erii clapped her hands in applause.

Yoko stroked her hair. “Now go to sleep. I have to do some more work tonight but I’ll be here in the morning.”

Erii nodded silently.

She was older than Yoko by three years, but Yoko had a hard time remembering that. Yoko was the one who tended to answer all her questions and introduce her to new experiences. Not the other way around. But Erii was amazingly inquisitive and a fast learner. It wouldn’t be long before Yoko would feel younger next to her. She made her way back to her room.

 She removed her contacts revealing her splendid fire colored eyes. She walked up to what appeared to be a blank wall, but when she spoke in russian, the simple word ‘Open’.  A panel that was seamlessly hidden in the wall opened to a hollow where a retinal scanning device ran a red light across her eye. A door slid open and revealed a hidden passageway that led to a dead end. When she walked to the end of the passageway, she pressed a key code and the wall slid back to reveal the Tokyo night many stories above the ground. The wind rustled her hair and the sound of an ambulance siren floated up from the street far below.

She stepped out of her nightgown and stood in the night air in nothing but her bare skin and scales. Her mind focused on the inside of her body and she pulled hard on her bones, tensing her muscles until it seemed like her bones collapsed. It felt funny, like reaching inside of herself with a third, fourth or fifth arm. She reached inward all the way through her back, feeling her muscles and tendons stretch.

The skin of her back deformed, pushing out a large hump until it split, black blood spattering in an arc onto the tile floor of this hall. It hurt, a sharp pain, like hitting your hand on a table or cutting your finger and she gasped and grit her teeth. From the wounds, two beautiful ivory colored bone wings extended their delicate membranes. Nerve signals told her brain that these new appendages were wet and chilly in the night air. They flapped once to shed the blood from them. The wounds they created would close in a few seconds, the muscles stitching themselves into a new configuration.

Her wings were magnificent in their size. Twelve feet in their full span. They were not only covered in fine silver scales but also in tiny, fine hairlike feathers over the veiny transparent membranes. It’s not that she grew the wings. The wings were always with her. The extra bones hid perfectly under her human skeleton in layers. She had hundreds of extra bones like this, a hallmark of dragon kind. Looking at her was like looking at a beautiful female demon, alluring, yet frightening.

Her lungs expanded in the new space made by the bones extending outside her body and she stepped towards the ledge.

Scales crawled themselves over her skin with a soft rattle noise, fitting tightly together like chain mail. These crystalline scales were as good as clothing and protected her from the cold air outside. Her blood heated itself to a higher temperature than a normal human’s to the point where if she were to get wet, the water would rise up in a steam and she would burn human skin.

The long drop to the pavement below was freedom. She leaped from a running start, her wings fanning out like a tent and catching the air with a firm snap, she slid on the current and her muscles contracted to flap once. The feathers provided extra lift and she was zooming straight up from a single wingbeat into the low hanging clouds.

It was like flying through fog but she could feel where the peaks of the tall buildings were from the eddies they created in the wind. People in those buildings might see a swift passing shadow with burning eyes as she flew by and wonder if they had imagined it. In this way she entered and exited Genji Heavy Industries completely undetected, which was important given the dangers she now faced.

Yoko wasn’t nearly as ignorant as she appeared to be. The questions she asked Crow were a cover and a test. She made it seem like she really didn’t understand Hydra and needed Crow’s help to find dangerous men in their ranks. But it was also a test to see how loyal Crow was to those dangerous men. He didn’t completely fail that test. He resisted the idea of punishing people for their evil deeds. He said that Chisei Gen hadn’t done anything about it, but Yoko didn’t believe that was because he didn’t know about it. No one asked Devil Clan members what happened to them because it was easier to just live under the system they directly benefited from.

Yoko turned on her wing tip and nimbly landed. She was familiar with this area. A series of warehouses in the middle of empty fields where she had walked in grief after Chance’s death. An opening in the roof was covered in a metal panel. It should have been too heavy for someone of her build to lift alone but she lifted it easily and slipped inside.

She dropped twenty feet to a concrete floor. Before she even landed, she realized that someone was here, rolled in the air, flapped her wings to escape. A sword flashed by her head and the person wielding it, landed gracefully.

It was a woman in a kabuki wig and white makeup and a beautiful purple kimono. Her thick socks and wooden clogs didn’t impede her movement at all. She dashed forward and Yoko leaned away to escape her strike.

Yoko reached out and grabbed her wrist and tried to sweep her legs out from under her, but this woman jumped, kicked out with both of her feet right in Yoko’s chest and performed a perfect backflip. She reached in her robes and threw out silver blades that pursued Yoko.

Normally, Yoko would have taken cover and wondered who this person was, but she already knew who this person was and there was no use in hiding from her. She charged, her eyes full of challenge. The woman lifted her sword defensively and Yoko skidded to a halt right before she lashed out, the blade missing her by less than an inch. Yoko grabbed the back side of the blade and absorbed a knee to the stomach to seize the woman’s throat. They both went down but the woman was pinned.

“Take that wig off. You look dumb.” Yoko said, standing up.

The woman obliged and the black haired wig was removed to reveal a cascade of blonde hair. “So you’ve finally been able to defeat me. It’s a shame it took you turning into a dragon to do it.” She said, in a cold voice.

“I just have a dragon’s body. I’m not actually a dragon. I’m still me, Zero.”

“My point stands.” Zero picked herself off the floor. “You say that… but it makes no difference because there are dragonslayers after you.” She wiped the makeup off her face. “I don’t know where they’re from, but the alchemical arsenal they brought was impressive.”

“You don’t know where they’re from? They’re not from Hydra then?” Yoko walked to a box and pulled out a shirt from it. She pulled it over her head as her scales receded. The wings were retracting, the bones snapping and deforming back into her human skeleton.

From her contacts at Hydra, Zero was Yoko’s ace in the hole. She didn’t return to Japan with the others, instead, she stayed in Tokyo under the guise of finishing her Internship. In reality, she had been placed there by the request of Z. She knew everyone in Hydra, including members of the Sons of Amaterasu. She was able to get into the meeting disguised as one of the geishas.

“No. His accent was indistinct. He was hiding it. But he was definitely European. He made a contract with the Sons of Amaterasu. They’re not only planning on killing you but Erii. The European man provided the Sons of Amaterasu with woodblocks to disable her.”

“What?” Yoko hissed. “How do they know about the woodblocks?”

“It’s worth investigating. Anyway, I brought you gifts from the equipment department. Your malleable bones make regular clothes a bit hard to wear so I got something for you…”

“That’s … really thoughtful, but what do you mean ‘anyway’! This is insane. First of all, they have to know about Erii… second of all, they have to know Erii had her brain cut…” Yoko walked after the stoic Zero who opened a box. “Someone had to have been working with Herzog… because I killed him. There was no way he survived! Unless he had two body doubles…”

Zero was staring at her, glaring.

Yoko felt a sudden since of uncertainty but then she recovered. “I did. It was really him. It was…” The last of Herzog was eaten by his own Deadpool. There was no sign of Herzog since. If Herzog was still alive he wouldn’t have allowed Yoko to be bitten by the Light King’s parasite.

“Then Bondarev must still be alive.” Zero said slowly, “Here. Try this on. It’s a body suit made of self healing fabric. You’ll be able to shape shift as you like without losing your clothes.”

“Thanks. I’ll have to tell Erii the bad news.” Yoko took the body suit and folded it over her arm.

“Can she handle that?” Zero asked.

“She’s way stronger than she looks.”

[alex-guerin]

Your's is the only prompt I got, so, here you go... Also, sorry, I'm on mobile, so I can't put this under a cut. ~*~*~ "Wait!" Malcolm burst through the crowd at a dead sprint, heart pounding in his ears. Not because he'd just had to run as fast as he could in order to get there in time, but because of what he knew he had to do. Seven and a half years of friendship were about to blow up in his face, but it was the only chance he had in order to save Trip's life, and in turn, save Enterprise. "Wait! Your Excellence, I beg you to wait! You can't continue with this ceremony. Please!" The High Royal Eminence of the G'alashi Delegation froze in mid-sentence, his whiskers twitching in aggravation at being interrupted. A series of grunts, hisses, and growls followed, translated loosely to, "How dare you interfere with this ceremony! Who are you? State your business here!" Swallowing hard to keep the butterflies in his stomach from escaping, Malcolm took a step forward. He cast a quick glance to Trip and prayed for once the sometimes obtuse Chief Engineer caught on and played along before looking back to the High Royal Eminence. "My name," he started. God, the butterflies were turning into dragons! Now or never! "Is Malcolm Edward Tucker. This man is my mate." Behind him, the crowd erupted in displeased and skeptical murmurs. Malcolm ignored them. He kept his eyes focused solely on the High Royal Eminence and nowhere else, even though he could feel Trip's wide-eyed stare burning into him. He couldn't look away, though. Couldn't bear to bring himself to meet Trip's near horrified stare. Even as the dog like humanoid creature stepped off the platform and stepped closer to him, Malcolm held his ground. "You claim to be his mate, the G'alashi Delegation requires adequate proof to negate the ceremony." "Take a sniff, surely you can smell him on me?" Malcolm held perfectly still as the creature leaned in and took three cursory sniffs. If lives weren't depending on him, Malcolm swore he would have died of embarrassment for what he'd done before coming down to the surface. Raiding a friend's closet for things to wear on a night out was one thing, raiding their dirty laundry for anything that might bear enough of their scent to be useful, was something else entirely. And he did mean *anything* in the laundry. The High Royal Eminence leaned back, his eyes narrowed. "You bear his scent, but he does not bear yours. This is not enough proof." "He had time to bathe before coming down!" A massive paw waved his protest off and Malcolm felt his panic begin to rise. "He has a mole on his right side! Just above his hip! And there's a faint scar on his lower back that extends down and around to his left thigh! Look if you don't believe me." Lord, Malcolm would never be able to look Trip in the eye ever again! He already dreaded the journey back to the ship and the questions it'd no doubt bring. How could Malcolm know about the mole or the scar and just how far it reached? He could always say it was all in Trip's medical records, which was true enough, but it wasn't the truth. The High Royal Eminence stared at Malcolm for a moment before motioning for his priests to disrobe Trip, so they could see for themselves. The white ceremonial gown was tugged away, leaving Trip fully exposed for all to see. The man was apparently a full body blusher; now Malcolm really wanted to die. Maybe he could just trade places with Trip. After all, Enterprise needed her Chief Engineer more desperately than she did a Chief Armory Officer. A priest nodded after finding both the scar and the mole, drawing a few surprised noises from the crowd. Still, the High Royal Eminence wasn't convinced. "Malcolm's got a scar on his right leg!" Trip finally exclaimed, the look he shot Malcolm clearly screaming 'If I've gotta show the goods, so do you!' "It's a small round scar! He got shot in the leg a few years back! Show 'em *darlin'*" The dragons flying around Malcolm's stomach began spitting fire as he stared Trip down. He couldn't take his uniform off! They'd see the only reason he smelled like Trip was because he was wearing the other man's clothes! Worse! *Trip* would see he had them on! The light blue T-shirt Trip had worn to the gym the day before, dark grey shorts also worn to the gym. At least the regulation blue boxer-briefs wouldn't be recognizable as Trip's. "Scars are inconsequential," the High Royal Eminence growled, shaking his head in frustration. "The ceremony continues! Not enough proof provided!" Rushing forward, Malcolm leapt onto the platform, grabbing Trip by the arm and pulling him in close to his side. "If he weren't my mate, would I so willingly do this?" The words barely left his mouth before he had Trip's body flush against his own and their mouths slotted together in a fierce, passionate kiss. Every emotion Malcolm felt, he put into that kiss. The fear, the panic, his long ignored deep seeded longing for Trip, the love he'd developed for him through the years but pushed aside when it became obvious Trip was in no way interested him. Everything. It was the only thing that saved Trip, and thus their beloved ship, in the end. ~*~*~ Trip sat on his bunk, staring off out the viewport as the stars streaked by. He didn't have time to think about what had happened planetside once they'd gotten back to the ship. He'd been too busy making the intricate repairs needed in order to get them to warp and out of that system. Now that he was alone in his room, though, his mind brought up the replay of what had happened. The feel of Malcolm's lithe frame holding him close, the roughness of Malcolm's uniform against his bare skin. It'd been Heaven and Hell all at once. The greatest pleasure in the world and the most painful of torture knowing that it had all just been an act to save him. Still, that kiss though. Trip could still feel it. So hard and possessive at first, bruising and claiming and fiery, only to taper off into something far more gentle. He didn't need to close his eyes to imagine the way Malcolm's tongue had forced its way into his mouth and made a very thorough inspection of his tonsils before gliding along to gently map along the rest of his mouth, dancing shyly with Trip's own once he'd overcome his initial surprise. Of all the kisses Trip had ever had in his life -- and he couldn't lie, there'd been quite a few -- that had been the best one of them all. Which only made it hurt more when he reminded himself it had all been for show and nothing more. Shaking the thoughts from his head, Trip stood and started for the lavatory. He needed a shower. A nice, long, hot one. Though, a cold one would probably be better, if his thoughts kept drifting the direction they had been. He'd just pulled his arms from his uniform sleeves when the chirp from his door sounded. Without a second thought, he turned back for the door and froze as it slid open. Malcolm stood on the other side, a small stack of folded clothes in hand. For a moment, they could only stare at each other. Trip's wild imagination jumped at the idea that Malcolm had turned up on his doorstep, spare clothes in hand, ready and willing to continue that kiss and more. Visions of pulling Malcolm in by his collar and dragging him off to the shower, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind were shattered when Malcolm cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, thrusting the pile of clothes out to Trip. "I wanted to return these. I had them laundered." Trip blinked twice and glanced down, finally recognizing the blue shirt in front of him. "Oh. Uh, thanks." The words were dull and awkward even to Trip's ears as he took the clothes and glanced through them. Workout clothes, of course. That kind of explained why the High Royal Eminence said Malcolm smelled like him. The flash of brighter blue explained the rest and Trip fought hard not to blush, or worry about just which pair of Blues Malcolm had come across. And he sure as Hell was NOT going to let his brain think about Malcolm wearing them. That way lay madness! Clearing his throat gently, Trip shifted in place. The urge to pull Malcolm in and give him a legitimate reason to have Trip's scent all over him was almost unbearable, but Malcolm looked ready to bolt, and that fear was enough to extinguish his hopes and desires. "Thanks for what ya did down there," he murmured lamely. "You really went above and beyond t' save my ass. Again." Malcolm shrugged, his gaze focused somewhere over Trip's shoulder. "Just doing what needed to be done. Enterprise needs you, and the captain was clear in his instructions, 'whatever it takes.'" "Right...whatever it takes," Trip's heart dropped clear to the decking below his feet. "Well, thanks again, Malcolm." Nodding, Malcolm's stormy grey eyes finally met Trip's for a split second before snapping away again quickly. "I should be going. I'm on duty soon." Trip's hand darted out, catching Malcolm by the wrist before he could get very far. Their eyes met again and Trip saw the embarrassment and fear shining back at him. His courage gone, Trip dropped Malcolm's hand and instead awkwardly lifted the clothes he was still holding. "Thanks, for bringing these back." Malcolm gave a single, tight-lipped nod before he turned on his heels and marched off down the corridor. It was only once he disappeared around a corner that Trip stepped back into his own room, stripped out of his uniform, and crawled into bed. He'd shower in the morning. When he maybe didn't feel like as big of a lovesick fool as he was. When his feelings for Malcolm were safely tucked back into their box marked, "DO NOT OPEN!" and stuffed away once more. The clothes Malcolm had returned to him on the pillow beside him, Trip closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep, the faint scent of Malcolm filling his senses as he did.