#oddly proud of those feet tho

[killemwithkawaii]

My first ever commission(!!!) for the wonderful @dixielovely of their OC Tubs and our boy Sally being soft af 💕

It was an absolute pleasure to work on this (and it gave me many hours of thinkin bout Sally-spoonin’, so bonus~). 

Thank you again for being the first to commission me! :D

[blitzturtles]

Title: It Starts Like This, Ch. 5

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): BruAbba, FugoNara / NaraFugo (Could be platonic, honestly, tho the BruAbba definitely isn't.)

Summary: He should have listened to Fugo more closely. Should have paid more attention to Abbacchio. Maybe something they had said or done would help now, but he doesn’t know because he never listens. He’s too stupid to get any of this right, and now Bucciarati’s suffering for it.

Notes: Turns out being dead has a bit of a long term effect. Who would have thought?

This fic got away from me, so I'm breaking it down by character interaction (sort of). This is Nara's chapter. Also, sorry this is super late; we just moved into our new rental, and that's been incredibly stressful/difficult.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

-

Narancia groans and slams a fist against his desk. He’s been at this homework bullshit for the better part of two hours now, and he hasn’t gotten anywhere! He’s at the end of his rope with, but he knows Fugo will be mad if he gives up now. After all, Fugo’s the one that put the practice sheet together for him, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Narancia to understand.

“Why do I bother?” He mutters to himself, but he already knows the answer. It’s because Bucciarati always gets this sad look in his eyes whenever the subject of school comes up, and he always looks so damn proud of Narancia whenever he manages to score a lousy ‘C’. Narancia can’t imagine the disappointment if he withdrew from school (... again), so he decides to double down.

It’s less than five minutes later that he’s pulling at his hair with clenched fists.

Maybe a break wouldn’t be the worst idea. Fugo won’t be back for a few more hours, and it’s not like he’d know. Narancia could get a snack, maybe watch a single episode of the dumb drama that Mista got him into. Or even half an episode! Narancia’s a reasonable guy. He can behave.

He’s about halfway to the kitchen when his stomach turns oddly. “I’m working on it,” he says to himself, but he can’t quite shake the feeling that something is off. Or-- wrong? His brows furrow together. It’s like the feeling of being watched, what with the unease that’s curling around his entire being, but it’s different somehow. Something’s definitely wrong, but he doesn’t know what.

There’s really only one way to find out.

Aerosmith materializes in front of him, along with Narancia’s radar. He squints at it with a frown. There are only two signatures, which is what he would expect. Everyone else is busy today. It’s just him and Bucciarati. No one’s skulking around the exterior or hiding somewhere inside. Just the two of them, except--

Except Bucciarati’s signature looks weird, and it takes Narancia a moment to realize why. It’s weak and too fast, and he doesn’t need to be in the room to imagine the gasping breaths that are causing the unsteady signal. The signal that’s dropping; the signal that’s--

“Shit!” Narancia’s off like a shot through the mansion. Aerosmith races ahead of him, already scoping out the scenario that he’s about to run into with almost no real clue on how to handle it. It doesn’t slow him down in the least. He’s too fixated on getting to Bucciarati.

There’s something viscerally disturbing about seeing his Capo on the ground with the back of his head pressed into the floor in a way that looks downright painful. His entire body is rigid down to the tips of his fingers, which look like someone’s strung the tendons tight enough to snap.

Narancia nearly trips on his own feet trying to close the last of the distance, and he all but falls on his knees. His hands frantically feel out Bucciarati’s upper arm, but he doesn’t know what his goal is there. He doesn’t know what his goal should be. Sure, he saw Abbacchio handle that one seizure, and Fugo gave him a rundown, but this is different. Several times more terrifying than anything he could have prepared for, much less so when he has no one to help him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he whispers as he tries to remember what Abbacchio did.

On his side. Bucciarati should be on his side, but he looks like he’s in pain with the way his features are scrunched up. It’s only the short, painful gasps that yield no air movement that kick Narancia into gear. Bucciarati’s carbon dioxide input has all but dissipated now, and Narancia’s had his stand for long enough to know that Bucciarati’s burning up more and more of his oxygen reserves the longer this goes on.

Actually getting Bucciarati onto his side is so much harder than it sounds. Moving a man that’s larger than him and rigid in every part of his body makes it a near impossible task, but Narancia manages through pure willpower.

“C’mon, you need to breathe,” Narancia knows his voice sounds desperate and shaky. Pathetic, really, but he’s practically pleading with Bucciarati. He’d do anything for the man to just listen to him, but Bucciarati continues to suck in inhale after inhale with seemingly no pause to actually let anything out. It’s terrifying, and Narancia feels his eyes burning and his frustration getting the better of him.

He should have listened to Fugo more closely. Should have paid more attention to Abbacchio. Maybe something they had said or done would help now, but he doesn’t know because he never listens. He’s too stupid to get any of this right, and now Bucciarati’s suffering for it.

The shaking starts after another few, hopeless seconds pass. It’s to Narancia’s sick relief that Bucciarati’s signal finally comes back. A massive ripple across his radar that evens out to something not quite right, but something there.

Eventually, the shaking turns into painful looking jerking motions, and even those start to slow down after another few seconds before Bucciarati goes entirely still. Narancia can’t bring himself to relax yet, despite the ache in his arms from holding (gently, don’t force it, Fugo’s voice rings out in his head) Bucciarati on his side.

Twenty more seconds pass, and Narancia finally relaxes when Bucciarati’s chest starts to rise and fall naturally. Ten more seconds, and blue eyes are blinking up at him with confusion. There’s a quiet, uncertain sound in the back of Bucciarati’s throat that reminds Narancia of something else Fugo said,

‘He’ll probably be out of it for awhile, and seizures are... ‘ Fugo had gone quiet, ‘Just imagine what it’s like to be the one having them if seeing them is so terrifying.’

“You’re okay,” Narancia says gently. Ignores the wobble of his own voice just like he ignores the wetness on his cheeks.

Bucciarati hums at him and blinks slowly, but there’s no sign that he knows that he’s being spoken too, much less what’s being said.

“I’m sorry,” Narancia continues. He wipes at his eyes quickly, as if to hide the fact that he’s been crying. “I’m sorry- I know, I know this is a lot, and I’m really sorry that I’m screwing it up. You’re okay. I won’t- I’m right here, okay? I’ll keep you safe and shit.”

There’s a moment that Bucciarati turns his head and tries to flip himself onto his back that Narancia thinks might be signs of consciousness, but Bucciarati still doesn’t acknowledge him. He seems uncomfortable more than anything, so Narancia helps him roll onto his back. He can always help him back if-- He shakes the thought from his head.

There’s a line of drool that becomes visible with Bucciarati on his back, and there’s a tinge of pink to it that tells him that Bucciarati either nicked his lip or his tongue. He’s not about to stick his hands in Bucciarati’s mouth to try to figure out which. Not when the amount of blood is so insignificant, and Bucciarati might come to at any moment. Narancia sure as hell wouldn’t want someone’s hands in his mouth while already waking up dazed.

It’s then that his phone chooses to ring out loudly from his pocket, scaring him badly enough that he nearly falls over. Bucciarati’s eyes shift toward him, which is something Narancia would celebrate as a minor victory if his heart weren’t pounding too hard already.

He fishes around in his pocket and breathes out a sigh of relief at seeing Fugo’s name. “Seizure,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth before so much as a greeting on either end can be spoken.

“Shit,” Fugo shifts on his end, “I’ll call Abbacchio. How long?”

“I don’t know, like- less than two minutes, I think? I mean the shaking part. I don’t know, fuck, I’m-”

“Stop,” Fugo cuts him off before he can spiral, “You did fine. Stay with him. We’ll be there soon, and remember what I said.”

“Got it,” Narancia doesn’t bother to hang up before he discards the phone nearby (carefully, near enough to reach if he needs it).

Without thinking, he finds his fingers in Bucciarati’s bangs. It’s something that he does for Fugo. Petting through his hair until he can breathe normally again after a bad panic attack or flashback. This might not be the same, but he hopes it helps. All the while, he runs his mouth with a bit more confidence after Fugo’s reassurance.

“Nara--ncia?” Bucciarati blinks, scrunches his eyes, and opens them again. “What?”

“You had a seizure,” Narancia explains, “But you’re okay now. Fugo and Abbacchio are going to be here soon.”

“Oh,” Bucciarati hums like he did earlier, but he’s definitely more aware now. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, I mean-” Narancia shrugs, unable to find the words he wants. That’s another problem of his, but it’s his problem and not Bucciarati’s. “I’m just glad you’re doing a little better.”

“Feel like I was hit by a train,” the words are stuttered out, and it takes Bucciarati a while to form them, but he manages in the end. Narancia’s relieved to hear him say anything at all.

“You were kinda tense.”

Bucciarati lets out a sound that might be a laugh, and Narancia curses himself for pointing out the obvious.

“Sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Bucciarati absently leans into the gentle touch of Narancia’s calloused hands working their way through his hair. It’s a gentle sensation that’s more than welcome compared to the ache in the rest of his body.

Seeing the way Bucciarati relaxes puts Narancia at ease enough to shift from his knees to his ass. He crosses his legs, all while still carding his fingers through Bucciarati’s hair. They talk for a while, about nothing in particular. The words eventually get easier for Bucciarati, and he’s more lucid now than he had been after the last seizure that Narancia saw him have. That has to be good, or that’s what he tells himself anyway.

“Bruno,” Abbacchio calls from the doorway, causing Narancia and Bucciarati to turn their attention to the worried man. He must have been walking fast or outright running, considering the seconds that pass before Fugo appears behind him.

“I’m alright,” Bucciarati says immediately upon seeing their faces.

It’s so absurdly Bucciarati that Narancia wants to laugh, but he’s also relieved.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone back,” Abbacchio grumbles as he crouches beside them on the floor. He moves to help stabilize Bucciarati when the man insists on sitting up; something that he hadn’t asked Narancia to do, and Narancia’s kind of grateful for that (like he is for so many of the things that Bucciarati does for him).

Bucciarati rolls his eyes, but there’s a pull at the corner of the left side of his mouth that gives him away. As much as he doesn’t like to be treated like a child, his love for Abbacchio will always trump his irritation. “We can’t live in constant fear.”

“We can make things work until you get on meds that help,” Fugo pointed out with a thoughtful frown.

The small smile slips off of Bucciarati’s face, and he sighs a deep, tired puff of air. “Maybe,” he admits, if only for the moment. He doesn’t look up for an argument, and, if he were, he’d likely keep it behind closed doors. Correcting their behavior in public is one thing, demanding of them what needs to be done is another, but a full on argument? That’s a rare sight for any of them.

“Let’s get you to the sofa,” Abbacchio says with a sigh of his own.

“I’ll uh, leave you guys to it,” Narancia mumbles, palms already pressing to the ground to shove himself upwards. His chest feels tight, and he feels his eyes beginning to water again. It’s ridiculous, considering the fact that Bucciarati is fine now. Great, even. At least compared to last time, but it’s like the whole situation has finally caught up with him. The panic and anxiety are threatening to swallow him, and he doesn’t want to lose it in front of a man that’s just been put through the wringer.

“You-” Bucciarati starts, but Fugo cuts in,

“We’ll go get some water and painkillers. You look like you’re sore,” it’s an excuse, though it is something that they can do for Bucciarati, and Narancia’s grateful to be useful. Or he will be in a few minutes, when he’s calmed himself back down.

They make it back to the hall that Narancia had been in when all this started before he loses it completely. The tears come and don’t stop, despite the arms that wrap around him.

“You did a good job,” Fugo murmurs into his ear and presses a kiss to Narancia’s hair. He’s not typically this affectionate in the public areas of the house, but, then again, Narancia doesn’t normally break down in the hallways, either.

“I didn’t count, and I forgot what you said about the blood, and-”

“You did fine, Narancia. He’s alright; that’s all that matters,” Fugo pulls back enough to force the other boy to look him in the eyes. “Seriously, Abbacchio and I are just glad you were there, and I’m sure Bucciarati is, too.”

“Yeah,” Narancia croaks, for lack of anything else to say, and because he suddenly feels too tired to argue.

Fugo pulls him into another hug. One that lingers a bit before either can bring themselves to move away. Ultimately, it’s Narancia who breaks contact.

“Let’s go get Bucci some water and pain killers. That shit looked awful,” Narancia says as he wipes at the drying tears. He can only imagine how sore every one of Bucciarati’s muscles must feel, including ones he probably hadn’t been aware of until waking up.

Fugo nods, “Yeah, let’s go.”

By the time they make it back to the library, Bucciarati is curled up on the sofa and leaned against Abbacchio. They’re talking quietly, but surprisingly don’t seem to be arguing. It might have something to do with the fatigue that’s so apparent on Bucciarati’s face, and the worry on Abbacchio’s. The added arm that’s curled around Bucciarati in a protective manner only lends to that theory.

“We got meds,” Fugo says as a way to announce their presence.

Bucciarati sits up enough to take both the pills and the cup of water they brought for him. He downs both in a single go and pulls a face at the dryness that remains. “Thank you. Both of you, but especially you, Narancia.”

“Yeah, it uh- was long overdue, right?” Narancia says, trying to make a light-hearted remark about their first meeting. He’s felt like he’s owed Bucciarati for that ever since, though this hardly feels like repaying him.

Bucciarati smiles at him anyway. “Come sit down? You look like you might fall over.”

Says the man that just had a seizure. Then again, Bucciarati’s already sitting. Narancia hasn’t managed to stop fidgeting in his spot since they got back to the library.

He sits on the couch on Bucciarati’s free side while Fugo takes up his favorite plush chair a few feet away. Narancia holds himself awkwardly, trying to avoid putting any more pressure on the parts of Bucciarati’s body that might hurt (which he figures is most of it).

“Oh for the love of-” Abbacchio reaches behind Bucciarati to tug Narancia by the collar. He yanks him sideways until he’s leaned against Bucciarati, who looks more than happy to accept the additional affection.

Bucciarati snakes his arm around Narancia and hugs him close with a gentle squeeze. “I know you don’t believe any of us, but you did a great job today, weird as that is for me to say,” but putting his charges before himself is a near character flaw, considering how it had nearly cost Bucciarati his life.

There are renewed tears in Narancia’s eyes, and he has to take a moment to compose himself before he can respond, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me, too, kid,” Abbacchio grumbles and reaches over again to squeeze Narancia’s shoulder.

[randomsevans]

The Lawyers Lies

Summary : he has it all the money, the status , respect from all those around him . The wife . He has the life everyone wants it's perfect. But he isn't. He cant help himself to himself or his wife for that matter ,this only leads to lie after lie .

Warning: swearing , cheating (if it bothers you then dont read )

The Rogers law firm was the most successful firm in all of Brokyln , all of the New York . With the leading man being one of power and strength as he had never lost a case , and built the empire he now sits on . His a boss that could easily leave his job to other but that's far form who Steve is , still takes case no matter how big or small and never loses , impressing everyone around . Yet despite the power , the life he leads you have Learnt that Steve has a caring nature and one were he protects those who cant protect themselves, that why he came into the job he is today. He has the life , the wife and as his right hand women went it comes to cases you learned to learn about Steve very well. Too well that the pit you feel in your stomach only grows more and more . And you are unable to keep your feeling in check as you have fallen for the taken caring man . But that didn't stop him from falling for you too . Or so he says .

The annual gala was in full swing . As one of the top lawyers at the firm you had to attend, as much as you didnt want to . You were wear a stunning satan black dress that flowed against your figure with a slit on on of the legs . It caught the attraction of many man that have come over to you more then once . Sending straight back were they came from as you wernt interested. You dont think you'll ever be interested in any other man that wasnt Steve Rogers . You knew it was wrong but you could help your feeling you had fallen for a married man . Your boss on top of that . This 'affair ' as much as the word sickens you because you arnt proud of it . That's what it was at the end of the day . The both of you had a little but to much whiskey as you were building a case on night and one thing lead to another. And you havnt been able to stop that night was 8 months ago . And the little crush you had , has formed into you being a women madly in love . But your not stuiped you know he would never care for you as deeply as you care for him nor would he ever leave his wife . And you were okay with that , you could live with that .

But your child cant and you want let them. The shook of what you discovered this morning is still very much with you . You dont know what you are going to do . Other then you know you have to end this with Steve and quit Rogers firm . It would be for the best . He would keep his wife and build a family with her, while you take care of your child by your self . And with that you were surprisingly okay about .

As you stood at the bar with your orange juice you were oddly becoming exited over the thought of being a single mother. You know it wouldn't be easy , but the love you had already form your infant you like nothing you have ever experienced. A smile small placed on your lips, despite knowing your child will never have a father you were okay with that , and hopeful him of her would be too .

Your smile quickly fell tho as you heard the boming chuckle of that so soothing voice you love so much . You turn your head to see as smiling steve with his wife Sharon with a wide smile as well looking up at him in awe , with his arm around her waist pulling her closer . A pang of jealousy ran through you . As a larger group appeared in front of you , you lost view of then, 'thank god '

As the the clock on the wall was almost at 11 pm you thought it was about time to leave . Well not after one last trip to the ladys . As you left the bar , you made your way through out the crowds . You turned a corner that lead to a corridor with rooms and the bathroom at the end. As if came into sight you speed up . Only to be yanked backwards you almost trip over your heels as you stumble backwards and pushed into a room . Your back hits a wall and you hear a door lock and are caged with two armed at either side of your head . It all happend quickly you couldn't process it . Until your eyed locked with two blue orbs that stared right back at you . With s sweet smile .

"Well hello there " his sweet rough voice broke . As you inhaled a sharp breath you didnt know you needed as the scent of whiskey hit you .

"Steve are you crazy, some one could of seen ..." you were silenced with his lips on your as he hands fell to your hips . This would have been a good place to end things but you didnt want to not yet anyway apart for you doesnt want it to end ,that's why you made a deal with your self 3 months tops and you would be out of Steve life. It would give you enough time for closure and prepare for your child.

As he pulled back his forehead came and rested on your "I really need to do that, if wanted to do that all night " he placed another peck on your lips "you look so beautiful in that dress "

"Your not bad your self you know " you said with a smirk making him chuckle that made your heart flip.

He took a step back "I should... I should probably get back "

You nodded with the familiar pit forming in your stomach. He cupped your cheek "but ha I'll see ya tomorrow eh ?" He said with his Brooklyn accent coming through think .

"Yeah... "

"If your not that hungover " he finished for you with a chuckle. It was far from the truth .

He place a hand on the door handle " right " he placed a chase kiss on your lips " bye love " and will that he was out the door as you stood in the dark room for what felt like an entity . Until your body gave you a reminder of where you were ment to heading. You left the room and bolted to the bathroom.

++++++++++++

Your stomach was turing as the small of coffee hit you as you entered the building . Your arms tightly around case files as you tried to balance your self on your heels . You entered the lift only for it to be near enough full . As you step in you look round as put names to faces . Your heart drops and you see the women who has the heart of the man who has your. Sharon was standing at one side with her head down looking through her phone as you stood at the far end to avoid her and the guilt that eats you up. You still love around and calm as a tall brunette came and stood between the too of you . The lift door closes and begans to move .

" morning y/n " the brunette had a warm smile .

"Morning James " you replied .

The lift door open and you both exit the lift leaving Sharon and the others in their. As you both began to walk the corries you make small talk. About his wife and your best friend Nat . And laugh at her anitic .

"Are those the Rowln files " he pointing at the files as you almost made it to your desk .

" yes there are ... I was wondering if actually you could do me a favour ?" You ask in shy voice as the pair of you stop infrount of your desk .

"Of course , anything for family " you laugh at that since the 3 of you (nat , james and you ) don't have relative so you call each other your family .

"Ummm I was wonding if you would take the files to Rogers for me and maybe .... take over the case " you scrunched up your face.

"Are you sure. It's a big case , if would do good to anyones carrer, and I dont want to take that away from you "

You knew this. But it was apart of your plan to began distancing your self from Steve . The less cases you worked on the less time you would spend together. The easier it would be when you permanently remove your self form his life .

"I'm sure . If its okay with you . I just have other cases and I dont really care much for the publicity "

"If your sure .... " you place the files in his hand

"I'm sure!" You giggled . "Take the damn cases Barnes "

"Okay ,okay " He stepped backwards hands in the air in surrounder as he held the case files in one hand . Chuckling . " I'm sure the team and Rogers will be disappointed losing the right hand women to be replaced with me " he joked .

"Eh there get over it " you said walking around and plonted your self in your chair . As your feet and ankles already ached , you made a mental note to stop wearing heels for fbe next 8 months. You flung your hand at Bucky , "dont you have a case to build "

"Yes ma'am " he turned as walked away with the biggest smile on his face. You knew that this case would be good for his career . You too a deep breath. And brought your chair under you desk as you began the long day at work .

+++++++++++++++

Lunch came around and went as you wat your usual only for it to end up down the toilet 20 minute later .

Your head was stuck in a file as a shadow loomed over your desk . You brought your eyes up . To be met with a pissed Steve .

"You gave your case to Barnes " his anger and disappointment showed both in his voice and face.

"Indeed I did Mr Rogers i have other cases , I think Mr Barnes would be good for this one as well as I dont very much care for the publicity. " you said honestly but missing the key reason as much as if hurt you , you needed to get away from Rogers end this . Without the words that would cause you to cry. You hope this would end with your feeling gone as your 3 months plan would unfold.

His eyes soften and place his hand on your desk to hunch over and meet your eyes

"But you are always on these cases with me " he said as a winning child .

"I'm sure Mr Barnes will be a great advantage to the team as well as your to have much fun with "

"That as much as I would with you " his whispered with a devilish smirk which caused you to have one of your own as you placed your pen down . And put your full attention to Steve .as he leaned closer in. " come and meet me tonight, usual place ya ?" He ask in his husky voice that was hard to resist.

"I cant sorry " you said as you looked back down at the file .

"What?" I stepped back with bus hands now in his pocket "why ?" He almost sounded hurt " Sharon's going on a girls night out so we have nothing to ... "

"So am I " you interrupted him.

"Sorry?" He questioned.

"I'm going out with Nat tonight "

"Oh " now you could see the hurt in his face. As you tied to ignore it . But this is what you had too do . And it's not like your lying you are going out with Nat because you knew Steve would ask . As much as it hurt you , as much as you wanted to be in his arms you needed to end this .

"Have ... have I done something...."

"I have cases to get going back to Mr Roges and I'm sure you do to " you interrupted him as you saw people approaching and he followed your gaze and gave a knowing nodded and you both tried to mask your feeling.

"Of course miss y/l/n " and with that he was gone

++++++++++++++

"Hiiiiiiiii " you heard the squeal that belonged to your best friend ,as you approach the bar she was sitting at . In the dark club with only a couple of lights lightening the surroundings

"Hi there " you took the seat next to her.

" how you been ?" The stunning redhead asks

"I'm doing good , what about you ?"

"I'm really good actually " she began then elbow your side with a smile. " thank you by the way "

"What for?" You gave her a confused look

"For giving Bucky the case . He was very VERY happy about it " she said with a wink

"Well your welcome " you chuckled

The two of you caught up on your day as the bartender approached .

"What can I get the two for you ?"

"Two shoots of tequila and two red wines please " Nat answered for you

"Um no actually " you said before the bartender could make the drinks .

" what it's our usual! " nat argued.

"Could we have one glass of wine and a lemonade " you glanced at Nat " but keep the two tequilas "

For Nat of course , the bartender nodded and headed to make the drinks

"What is with you ,? Why ain't you drinking?" She paused for a moment her eyes grow double in size " your not pregnant are you?"

"What of course I'm not !" You laught it off as now is not the time to spread the news no matter how much Nat is your best friend you couldn't risk her spilling in front of Bucky that would the lead to Steve .

"Some got to be driver , as well as my heads still pounding form last night " you lied .

"Oh okay, thank god " she laughed as the drinks appeared in front of you .

The night went on and the place got more crowded, Natasha had maybe too much to drink but was still standing stronge as she dragged you too the dance floor . With the bright lights you and were laughing and dancing 'who says you need to be drink to have fun '

As Nat spun you around, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes landed on a certain booth . With a certain blonde blue eyed man. The booth was in the darkest corner but you would notice those blue eyes anywhere. A women was sat next to him as there stared at each other with him giving her a cheeky smile . You assumed it was Sharon and maybe he went out with her after all she is his wife .so you were about to turn round when the women went to grab her drink of the table as a light quickly shined on her face . The reveal Peggy Carter his assistant. You couldn't tear your eyes away

'Maybe it's just friends having a drink '

Your heart dropped as his lips met hers as he bright her closer to him , in hunger and passion Everything froze . Your chest tightened and heart hammered . You ran out in a hurry sicken at the sight . Your surroundings turned into blurs and silence as you rush out the doors missing natasha yelling your name . For your hot sick to reach the bitter bit of outside .

You have seen him with Sharon multiple times and yeah you have always got jealous and abit bothered but he always assured you on how he felt about you . But this was worst . As the reality set in . He never ment anything he said . The times he told you he cared for you had feeling for you . Was all a lie . Yes you were the other women but you wasnt the only one and that hurt so much more then anything . Yes you was going to end this soon but it doesnt make it hurt less .

As your back hit the brick wall you inhaled a shaky breath as your eyes were blurry and tears rolled down your hot cheeks causing a bitter bite against the night. Nat came rushing by your side and pulled you into her side as you let out a loud sob .

"Ha ! What's going on " she rubbed the side of your arms in confert .

"I'm an idiot and stuiped fuckin idiot . " you whispered

"What ! Of course your not " she brought your face into her hands and lock eyes with you "now y/n you tell me what's going on right now " you shook your head in response you didnt want to burden her but you need to tell someone "NOW " she damned

You calmed your self down and brought out the shaky sentence "I'm.....I'm pregnant " you looked away " a... and its ..st..steve Rogers "

You turned your head to look at Nat who was in pure shook . You could see herself fighting with her self whether to shout and scream at you for being so stuiped or be supportive . Her nicer side won and pulled you back into a hug .

"Okay , okay your coming back with me so you calm down and then you tell me everything. EVERYTHING!"

"As long as you dont tell anyone .. promise "

"Promise "

[exsqueeze-me]

[So, I thought I would write something based on a comic I found not too long back, but I can't find the link anymore. I'll put it on here when I do tho. Just know that this idea isn't entirely my own. I also tried to keep it as accurate to the comic as possible.]

Fortune teller Baba had always liked the quiet atmosphere of her palace, and because of her outrageous price for her fortunes, not many people disturbed that peaceful serenity. She did get bored from time to time, though. Usually, in these instances, contacting her brother and harassing him through call entertained her well enough, but this time she had another idea in mind.

Waking up on relatively clean concrete was a tad odd, if only because most things in hell were blood covered or just downright strange. Bardock gathered himself up to his feet and looked around. Wherever he was, it definitely wasn't hell.

Fortune teller Baba cleared her throat, garnering the attention of the disgruntled Saiyan.

"Welcome to Earth. I am Fortune teller Baba."

Bardock glared at the old woman, "What am I doing here?" Despite being more confused that he had been in a long while, he couldn't help but think that Earth sounded oddly familiar.

Ignoring his blatant rudeness, Baba decided to dignify his question. "Whatever you want. You have a single day to do as you please. Although, if I were you, I would hunt down that kid of yours." She squinted slightly, "I was hoping you could teach him some manners but it seems I picked the wrong person for that.." she muttered.

Bardock's eyes widened. That's why Earth sounded familiar.

Without a second thought he shot into the sky. He wanted to see if any of those visions of his had any truth.

Baba sighed and went on with her day.

It took hours, but Bardock had finally found the source of the strongest power level on this planet. He could only hope that it was his son.

Landing by the front door, he glanced around. This place was surely strange, but to him, most of this planet was. As Bardock decided to walk to the other side of the house, another's eyes met his.

"Ka-" Bardock's words were caught in his throat. Kakarot looked just like him.

Goku had the same thoughts while staring at the Saiyan in front of him. He didn't speak, intent on waiting to see if this man had any foul intent.

"Kakarot?"

"Eh?" This man knew his name, or his Saiyan name at least. "You know me?"

Bardock was still gathering his words. His son obviously got his eyes from his mother.

"It's like.. I've seen you before. You look just like me!" Goku was still cautious. He hoped he wouldn't have to fight this man, at least, not with his family so nearby.

Bardock took almost tentative steps toward his son. Kakarot had grown into a strong man. He gripped the back of his son's head and leaned him on his chest.

"You're pretty damn grown up..." Bardock couldn't say he wasn't proud.

Goku was shocked. The last thing he expected was this hug, if you could call it that, from the Saiyan in front of him. Although he was shocked, this felt oddly calming for some reason. Goku couldn't quite figure out why though.

But before Goku could voice anything, Gohan had slipped out the back door, Goten following closed behind.

"Dad! Mom finished dinner! It's delicious! You should-. Ah!?"

Gohan certainly didnt expect to see his father in the embrace of a look-a-like. Goten was just as confused, but only because it seemed like he had two dads now.

"Ehh! Gohan!" Goku was now not only surprised and confused, but also a bit flustered.

Bardock spoke up again, "Is this Kakarot's.. Is this your son?"

If it was, Bardock would be the proudest Saiyan on the south side of hell.

"Ya, he is." Goku had thrown the caution he held out the window. This Saiyan clearly didn't mean his family any harm.

Bardock let his son go and stepped over to his grandson.. grandsons, he mentally corrected.

Goten looked up at his big brother, "Big brother, that mister is coming over here."

Gohan only gulped and hoped for the best.

Bardock placed his hand on Gohan's head and ruffled his hair. "Your old man treating you well?" He asked, although he could already guess the answer.

"Ah, yes.." Gohan didn't know who this man was but he seemed okay.

"I see." Yup, Bardock was definitely proud.

Meanwhile, Goku went to get Chichi. He felt that she needed to meet this man. Why, he couldn't figure out.

"Hmph." Bardock glanced down at Goten and picked him up. "You look just like Kakarot."

Goten, obviously didn't hold the same level of caution as the rest of his family. "I don't look like a carrot! My name is Goten!"

"Goten, huh? Isn't that a nice name." Now all he needed to see was his sons mate. A strong woman, he hoped.

"Goku. Who is this?"

Turning at the sound of a new voice, Bardock saw his son standing next to a lovely woman. So, this was his mate. He couldn't wait to tell Gine about this. She would certainly be just as proud, if not more so.

The sun was going down behind the treeline and Bardock could feel himself fading. That old fortune seller did say he only had a day, as he recalled.

"Kakarot. Your beautiful wife... Your family.. Take gook care of them." Bardock smiled. He was more than okay with this.

Goku reached his hand out towards the fading man. Everything came together and all of it connected just seconds too late.

"I kinda feel like that was your father Goku! He called me beautiful." Chichi giggled.

But Goku only stared at where the Saiyan was previously standing, tears welling up in his eyes for the first time in years.

"Father..."

[trailerparkflower]

Stephanie Says

It was a party at Tim. Crowded rooms, full of sweaty teenagers, loud music and a lot, a lot of booze. Steph pulled down short denim skirt-her mom would kill her if she would ever see how short it was. But, luckily for Steph, she wasn't at home today. As she wasn't at home yesterday. And all week before that.

Actually, count is over the month already.

Dad called not so long ago, tho. Told she said hi.

Screw both of you, Steph thought, nails digging into the fisted palms, as he started to lecture her about the college essay. Sure, dad, she said. Love you. Tell mom I said hi too.

She slept in their bed in that night, perfect creamy colored pillows stained with black mascara-the only evidence of her tears in a big, empty house.

Grabbing another drink and maneuvering between the faceless mass of dancing people, she glared on the whistling boys from the basketball team, what occupied all the couch, legs spread wide and face expressions grossfuly smug.

“Hey, Stevie!” Shouted Adam, getting up from his place under the overly-excited laughs of the other guys. Crossing arms over her chest, Steph wrinkled her nose as Adam came closer. Too close, actually-hot breath warmed her ear, oozing smell of the alcohol. Honestly, the only good quality of Adam was his dick. “We thought you won't show up today. You know, after Prince ditched you and got all lovey-dovey with the Byers freak bitch.”  

“Don't call her that.” Steph snapped, annoyed. Yes, maybe Byers was a freak-and maybe, maybe, some secret part of Steph considered her as a bitch too-but it's not like she would let other people bully the person with who they fought with monsters, saving Hawkins. Even if she stole her boyfriend. “And do me a favor, Adam-fuck the hell off.”

“Not in the mood, Steph?” Chuckled he. “Maybe it would get better if you join me and other guys? We can do a lot of fun things together...to cheer you up.” Adam big hand slipped lower from her waist, burning, like a molten iron. She felt their eyes on her legs, on her cleavage, on all her body-and felt like throwing up. Steph fucked with two of them, in the pre-Natt era, and heard the rumors about herself. Usually, he acted like she didn't care, ignored them, maybe slapped someone, but.

But their eyes was hungry, room was dark, and it wasn't enough of fresh air and free space around, and Steph found herself slowly slipping into the Upside Down catacombs, full of a flower-faced monsters with a dozen of sharp teeth sneering at her.

A sudden, overpowering feeling of fear what she wanted to suppress all this time and drown down in cheap punch cracked out from the carefully closed box, occupied her mind, making Steph break out from the Adam grip and take a few quick steps back, hands shaking and limbs cold, until she bumped into someone. Another arms wrapped around her, keeping Steph from the fall, and she felt like people played in hot potato with her, tossing from one to another.

Her drink fell on the floor, forgotten immediately, as Steph tried to resist to the tanned hands what holded her tigh, kicking and whirling, heart beating in her throat.

“Let me-let me go!” Her demand sounded a lot more like a plead, voice too small even to her own ears. She didn't wanted to be here. She wanted to be home, to lay in her big bed, safe and cozy, not be touched and treated like a piece of meat.

“Hey, hey, easy there, princess!” Familiar low voice shushed her, and Steph closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Calm down, Jeez. What got your panties in a twist today? You are all shaking.”

“Don't you think what you are being too obsessed with my panties, Hargrove?” Steph rolled her eyes, unamused and a little grateful. Getting her balance back, I told you to plant your feet playing in her head, Steph turned her face to Billie.

“Hmm...” Billie pretended to observe the accusing, making a thoughtful face. “Nah.” She shuddered, carelessly, golden earrings flashing in a faint light. “Speaking of those-what color you wear today? Red? Baby blue? Pink? I bet it pink. With a lace and little cute bow-”

“Gosh, just give me a rest.” Muttered she, probably too bitter-because Billie stormy blue eyes fell on the couch there basketball team boys sprawled out, already flirting with another girls, Steph seems to be already forgotten by them, just as spilled drink on the floor was forgotten by her.

“Are big bad boys harassing our little pretty girl?” Asked Billie, tone mocking, but face. Face serious and oddly collected, and Steph lowered her head a little, ashamed, even if it not she who should be ashamed one.

“What if so? Gonna play my knight in shining armor?”

Billie grinned, glancing at her under incredible long eyelashes with that kind of knowing look that make your cheeks flush and stomach twist. Like she knows about you more than you know about yourself.

“Is it what you want me to do, princess?” She asks with a smile, and Steph finally meet her eyes. There is a water on Steph lashes, sudden tears what she don't even bother to wipe.

Billie aren't smiling anymore.

“Yes,” Steph breathes out, as honest as she wasn't all two last years. She feel lost, tired, humiliated, dumb and helpless-so, so helpless. Not just today. All the time, she feel helpless. “Yes.” She repeats again, and those warm arms what was wrapped around her, disappears.

That's it, Steph thinks. This is the part there Billie is gonna laugh at her and go away, telling everybody what a wimpy bitch Stephanie Harrington is.

And Billie laughs-not as girls usually do, not soft, not pretty, not melodic. She barks in loud laugher, like a psycho. Like a boy. Steph prepares herself for sharp rude comment-but it never comes.

Instead, Billie goes straight to the Adam-blond curls bounce with every wide step-and punching him right into the face.

Just like that.

“Learn how to treat a fucking lady, fucker.” Spits she. Adam holds his nose, yelling in pain. Billie wipes her blooded knuckles of his white shirt, grimace of disgust on the gorgeous face, before grabbing him by the collar, then he starts to curse her. “Or I will have to teach you.” She says, and crowd boosts, glorifying their new leader. Hawkins High School Queen.

Then she smirks, predatory, corner of bright shiny lips curls up, as she looks back at Steph. Everyone in this room stars at Billie-but all Billie attention locked on Steph, and only on her.

Completely stunned, Steph made a breath what she didn't even knew what she holded, and made a step back, knees weak. Biting bottom lip, she blinked few times, feeling very, very drunk-and beams a wide smile, incapable to hold it, tilting her head to the side.

Billie grins in return, wild, proud, and in all teeth. With a last glare on Adam, she goes to Steph, pushing people out of the way, face shines with the victory while Steph just stands here and waits.

She feels like a damn princess. Like she's something beautiful and fragile, like she is worth to worshipping and protecting, fighting for her honor.  

It's stupid, probably. But no one made her feel like that before.

“Ya happy now, m`lady?” Billie asks, raising her perfect shaped eyebrows questionly, velvet voice deep and husky. “Gonna give your knight a grateful kiss?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steph scoffed, playfully. Heart fluttered in her chest, like a wild bird in golden cage. “In your wet dreams, Hargrove.”

Something changed in Billie expression, and Steph frowned slightly, afraid what she overstepped acceptable amount of their strange flirty way of talking, but then, Billie laughs again-genuinely, in a way what makes her button-like nose scrunch. It's adorable, and Steph tries her best not to blush.

“Oh, I sure hope so, pretty girl.” Billie purrs, and all Steph efforts crashes, as she feels heat touches her blooming cheeks. She huffs, playing smugness; yet both of them knows what she is flustered to the point there she dont know where to put her hands, long delicate fingers playing with the edge of short skirt. Billie throws an arm around her shoulder, black leather squeaking a little with the movement. She smells like beer, cheap perfume and cigarettes-mix what should be horrible, yet surprisingly pleasant. “Well then. How about to find some less crowded place and smoke a little pot with me? Party is shit anyways, and all boys are ugly as hell. Giving me fucking heebee jeebees every time they trying to pick up me.”

Steph shook her head, snorting amusedly. Boys really was ugly as hell there, tho. “Uh, thanks for your generous offer, Billie, but I think I'm fine just as that.” Answers she casually-because if Billie Hargrove will find out what Steph had never smoked weed before, she will never let this topic die.

“C'mon, dollface, would be fun, I promise. Just be a bad girl as you used to be for once, Queen Steph. It's not like if I was a boy and could take advantage of you, right?”

“Well...yeah, right, but-” She tries to argue-mostly with herself.

“Great! Let's go.” Billie exclaims, not even bother to listen, and Steph rolls her eyes, as she drags her to the door.

Heck, her mother are right. Steph is a pushover.

Yet, something in her chest goes all warm and mushy, and she glances at Billie with a small smile while other girl doesn't see it. Maybe, it's not that bad to have someone in charge other you-at least just for once.

***

“You was right, you know.” Stephanie says.

They are laying on the roof, shoulders pressed tight to each other, as a milliard of stars dancing around the full, milky-white moon above them, high in the night sky. All the awkward, nervous moments of coughing and teasing finally passed, paying for themselves, because Steph finally feels free, free, free.

“Huh?” Billie asks, one eyebrow lifted up. Her usually sharp expression are softened now, and she looks like a movie star. Steph thinks what she is the most beautiful person she ever saw.

“They are pink today.” She giggles innocently, voice quiet and excited, like she is a twelve year old schoolgirl who are sharing the most dark secret to her best friend on the break between the lessons. “Pastel pink. And, like, with all this-all this shit, y`know. Little bow and lace...”

“Jesus, Harrington.” Chuckles Billie breathlessly, pupils so wide what you barely see a bright sea blue color behind them. “You really are something else.”

“I love them.” Steph murmurs, defensively, as as if she has to justify herself for it. “They make me feel...uh, like I am good. Pretty.”

Billie stares at her for long moment, what feels like a eternity, and Steph avoids her eyes, shying away, before tan palm cups her cheek, thumb brushing pale skin. “You are pretty. Even in potato bag, you would be the most pretty girl, the prettiest.” Whispers Billie, and now they both stares at each other, as if they see each other by the first time. “Pretty like a fucking princess.”

Steph swallows, mouth suddenly dry. Their faces are so close, what they share one breath, and she closes her eyes, eyelashes flutter-and without thinking much, kiss Billie on the cheek, sweet and gentle. Billie inhaling shakly, and she looks at Steph as like at the miracle.

“Maybe I am.” Smiles she, slyly, pressing her forehead to speechless Billie one. Their legs are tangled together now-short denim skirt don't hide Steph long legs, white socks under the nike sneakers, against Billies strong and curvy ones, covered in dark jeans, black boots with heels glints in the moonlight. “Maybe I am, but you, Billie Hargrove, are beautiful, like a damn queen.”

Billie blinked. Then, she grinned, slowly, tongue wagging in that way what makes funny things to Steph belly.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” She answered, looking at Steph foundly, fingers stroking silky brown locks now. Steph leaned to the touch, like affectionate kitten, and beamed a dorkly smile.

Billie eyes darkened.

“Hey,” Steph mewled cheerfully, after the moment of cozy silence. “I'm home alone today, parents in a business trip... Do you want to...do you want to come on the sleepover, or something?”

“Or something, huh.” Billie hums, predator-ish smirk on her red full lips. “Sure, Harrington, why not. Night is only started, right?”

[tumblunni]

A random game idea I had! It could be really cool to have like a survival RPG where you play as a wild animal trying to survive in the world. Seriously there are barely any games about the coolness of nature from the perspective of the nature, and the only one I found was just a platformer/walking simulator type thing with not much appeal to it. Still worth wasting my money on it just so the universe can see there's a market for this genre, tho! So yeah anyway, random thoughts for this game idea!! * I was thinking it could be a bit more fun if you're exploring an entirely new world of magical creatures instead of a super realistic documentary on any real animal. Plus that's just more flexible for me to do whatever I want with how things work for this species. * My first thought was maybe like a very unusual 'dragon' that's more insectile in design. Like a long Asian dragon crossed with a fluffy caterpillar. Lotsa legs, and a sweet lil face! There's even that one species of Japanese caterpillar that has the big head with horns and an EVEN MORE sweet lil face, that would work perfectly!! And I was thinking maybe it can charge up and shoot electrical blasts from those back horns? Its still very much a small underdog creature in this ecosystem tho, usually all it can do is issue weak zaps to scare predators away but not really fight back all that well. And your lil babies can't zap at all until their horns grow in, so you need to be very strategic to choose your battles carefully and keep your family safe. * also I was thinking maybe the babies could kinda be your lives system? It'd be hard to finish the game while keeping them all alive, and if you lose them all its a game over from despair. And also they follow you around and are cute and helpful and love u lots! And ypu can see them grow up if you keep them safe for the whole game, you can watch them leave the nest in the end and be so proud! I want them all to have their own lil personality, I want the player to get goddamn attached to their lil monster fam!! * alternatively maybe you start off with just one baby and then gain more as the game progresses? Cos I'm picturing this as you playing as a single animal, you're a solo mama lookin after the babs. Maybe your previous mate died tragically in the prologue? Or maybe you just don't have one and you're just a sweet lil dragon who adopts abandoned eggs you find along your journey. You could go on quests to find all the hidden unlockable children around the world map! And maybe they could be a big ol variety of patterns, and different special powers. Multi talented bebs! * another idea for adding variety to game is 'what about customization?' Let's defy all laws of logic and have the player be able to choose the course of evolution for these critters! Your skill tree could be growing extra legs or fangs or becoming an omnivore all of a sudden. Who cares if it makes no sense! Tho that would kinda lend itself better to a plotless game with intimate amounts of generations, so we could at least make the evolution semi realistic. Inheriting traits instead of just abruptly mutating a million things within the same generation. But I kinda wanted this to be a more emotional journey of a single family surviving a small lifetime together. Just a lil warm and soft snippet of life in this world. Just a lil family that you can keep safe. * a random idea I had for a helpful NPC was a big giant scary monster of another species that you end up forming an unlikely friendship with. Big scary is only scary cos they're protecting their sick child, you can find out about this and help find the rare herbs they need to get better. And now you have won a very large friend's undying gratitude! Maybe they could remove an obstacle in your path by fighting off a giant unwinnable boss fight for you, so you can get to the next area. Or maybe you can ride on their back so they can carry you further away from your nest than you can usually reach. I'm imagining the player character being like the size of one of their eyebrows, lol! Oh, and maybe they could even help dig stuff so you can do bigger renovations on your nest? I was thinking it'd slowly upgrade as you gather more skills and materials throughout the game, and you could have a super complex luxury lil meadow grove by the end. * oh and a random other optional side quest idea! One of the various biomes you explore could be a wintery area, and you could find a prime spot where you can store your supplies and have like rudimentary refrigeration. Storing up food supplies in prime cache locations around the world would be a big gameplay element if you're playing as a herbivore, and this would be a gamechanger cos now meat can be cached away too. And I was thinking the Large Friend could also be a useful way to make the game equally playable whether you picked herbivore or carnivore. Herbivore players can trade meat to the Large Friend and thus still gain some benefit from defeating enemies. Large Friend can probably bring you cool exotic fruits from high up in trees you can't reach. Yay! * oh and I've kinda been calling those characters The Bigman and Bigman Larva. Cos I thought it'd be funny if this is some large mammal and the protagonist doesn't really understand the difference. Their babies totally come from eggs too, right? When's the lil guy gonna spin his cocoon? * ...it'd be even funnier if they actually did spin cocoons. I mean, its a magical world! I can make anything I want! Mice hatch into bats in the spring~ * also I had a neat idea of how to maybe handle 'dialogue' in this game. Cos it'd be a bit lame to just translate all this animal talk into English, and it'd be hard to have an RPG if its completely 100% silent. I don't have enough confidence in my abilities to say I could pull off the awesome nonverbal storytelling of Journey! So the idea I had was that maybe it could be.. A nonverbal language? You see your protagonist's thoughts as lil dialogue bubbles of images. Lil semi-complex rune type icons that the player slowly learns as they play through the game. Starting just with very basic representations of the actual gameplay commands like 'run' and 'hunt' and 'small larva whom I love and protect', and then by the end you're able to hold entire simple conversations with friendly NPCs. * also I thought it could be hella neat if you could acrually name your babies using this system! Pick two or three runes to combine into a lil squeak you shall squeak towards this particular ball of fluff. "I love you [FIRE] [FRIGHTENED] and [BRISTLE BUSH] [ACORN] [TAIL]" * also I was thinking a cool way to organically teach this language to players would be to kinda compartmentalize it? Youd start off with a library of basic words and then everything would be introduced using those basic words. Like 'predator' is [RUN]-[EAT], displayed with those two symbols when you first encounter this problem. But then after its become more of a common part of your life it'd be smooshed down into a new rune symbol that combines those two, and that's added to your dictionary. And now you're able to say things about that predator, and use the word predator as a modifier to other stuff. Like 'coyote' might be introduced as 'fast predator' and then if you spend a lot of time scavenging in the coyote territory and fighting them, 'coyote' would become an actual word too. And it could be kinda oddly satisfying to name your newest child after a word you didn't have the last time, symbolising how you've mastered evading that particular predator. Hold your head high, [COYOTE] [FEET], my new and prosperous son! * Also, hmm, it could probably symbolise 'this shit is wrong and terrifying' when something breaks the naming conventions and reminds you of the components that first made that word. Like every other predator is just [adjective] [RUN]-[EAT] but then a griffon is [SKY]-[EAT] and a snake is [LUNGE]-[EAT]. Hell, to someone who's literally never seen a flying creature before, they might just be classified as like.. 'Jump' creatures. It'd be a giant shaking up of the whole world for our poor protagonist who only sees things as a collection of running or not running! And humans would be even more terrifying cos they're the only predator that isn't 'eat'. Why on earth does this thing kill us and just leave the body there?? Thats TERRIFYING! Protagonist might even have nightmares of their poor kid's soul being unable to rest cos their empty shell was never returned to nature after they died. They don't have the capacity to understand that humans hunt for sport or exterminate things they see as pests... And man, I can imagine that scraps of human materials could be super useful rare objects along your journey and like.. HOO BOY its a good thing protagonist will never know how exactly humans make those things. 'Wow this weird human thing called a clothes is useful nest lining material!' she says, as she sits on a dragon skin coat. 'Odd how it reminds me of my grandma!' * anyway lol I have a bunch of ideas but they're not very organized so I apologise for this rambley post

[prettycanarybird]

Heir-Apparent: Chapter One

Chapter One

I can only recall walking down the Marble Avenue exactly one other time in my life. The first flakes of snow had begun to fall, catching in my father’s dark curls. They looked like diamonds glittering in the early morning sunrise, which peeked out beneath the fluffy clouds, casting a golden glow low over everything. 

I remember my mother crying.

I didn’t understand why we were awake so early in the morning, and why my mother and not my nurse had dressed me, hastily, roughly, not even bothering to comb out my unruly black ringlets. She had thrown some of my things into a trunk, stuffing clothing, my beloved stuffed horse, Brownie, and whatever jewels a small child like me could have possibly possessed, which was quite a lot given my heir-apparent status. My feet, crammed in last year’s snow boots and pinching, barely touched the ground as she dragged me from the room.

The halls, all the paintings of old family members that terrified me as they stared down with judging eyes, were still dark. As my mother pulled me along, everything blurred together. I don’t remember if I protested, or if I was too shocked and too scared by this sudden departure to utter a sound. 

We rushed out of the Capital and stumbled down the grey stone steps, carrying our lives with us. My father’s jaw was sharp, and his eyes never looked down at me. I think he might have been ashamed, but I was too young to know what that sort of thing looked like then.

When we reached the bottom of the steps, we stopped. My father looked behind us, then scooped me up, pulling me away from my mother. He jabbed a finger at the Capital building. “Remember, my sweet Jade, this is where you will always belong.” His voice had wavered, holding back tears, but I did as he told me, looked and remembered.

I always remembered.

Now, instead of being rushed down the Marble Avenue, sneaking away in the dawn, I was sitting atop my proud, feisty mare. We were both decorated in silver plated armor and delicate white wildflowers. I had specifically asked for wild flowers and nothing more pretentious like a rose. Other conquerors would have chosen roses or something expensive. The people, who lined the avenue, needed to see the wildflowers; that I wasn’t some conqueror, but the rightful heir who was raised among them. I was one of them.

I wished my father could have been riding beside me. To have been able to bring him home would have been my greatest joy. But war has its costs, and my father had paid the price early on. He had paid it so that I could ride up to the Capital with my armor, my army, and my mother at my side.

She was beautiful: mother. Grey streaking her hair, which she braided delicately around her head. Around her neck, on a silver chain, she wore my father’s wedding band, and had since the day they had returned his body to us. It was the only piece of jewelry she had chosen to wear, a small restraint at my own request. Though, she had managed to commission a new gown of lavender silk, embroidered in gold instead of the silver I was trying to brand everything with in my new world. She was a good woman, but not once had she lost her regal-ness. 

All around me, I could hear the snap of the velvet standard flags, a rearing stallion emblazoned in silver on each one, my personal crest. I had created it in the fading embers of a battle fire when I was just sixteen, a slice across my chin, the scar of which I still carried, and watched as the flames flickered into the shape. I knew then what my destiny was, and what we needed to do. Win back the Capital and win back my home. I lifted that scarred chin just a bit.

I scanned the crowd. They crushed together, a mix of the lower working and merchant classes. If the wealthy were there, they weren’t making themselves visible, and a part of me didn’t rightly care. They would either accept the change or not, but the people who mattered to me were here to watch me re-enter my home. That was all that mattered to me today.

My eyes settled on a small boy sitting on the shoulders of his father. He waved a dirty hand at me, the sort of dirty only a small child could acquire. A smile slid over my face and I raised an equally dirty and worn glove to wave back. He beamed, and bounced, and almost threw his father backward with the effort. I held back a laugh, and adjusted a scratched piece of the armor on my elbow.

General Merien had begged me to commission new armor before entering the city. His intentions had only ever been for my good. He had wanted me to look the part, and I supposed there was some value in that; certainly my father would have heeded his advice. I wasn’t my father, however, I was my own woman. Several months past my twenty first birthday and now empress. I would enter the city as myself: a battle worn knight with a scar on my chin, bad hearing in my left ear from a blow to the head at one point, and dirty leather gloves. I would not be some sparkling goddess who was untouchable.

“Really, Jade.” My mother kept the polite, regal smile on her face, back rigid in her seat. I braced myself but did not even shift my eyes in her direction. “You could have at least let me do up your hair. Something with ribbons, perhaps.”

It took a considerable amount of through to keep my face even. “Ribbons? I haven’t worn ribbons since I was a child.”

I didn’t have to look to know that she sagged a little bit. “Just would have been a nice touch.”

We were nearing the base of the stairs, when I would dismount my dear mare and climb the steps to a new future, which seemed altogether daunting. I chewed my bottom lip, a horrible habit, and finally glanced over at her. “Maybe,” then I held up a finger when she turned to me hopefully, “maybe you can braid my hair for the coronation.”

She smiled, and when she smiled, she was truly beautiful. My mother was the type of beauty that could be wearing burlap and still make knights fall at her feet. I was never quite sure if she knew that or not. “Just a few, I promise.” It would be more than a few, but I smiled back at her as the whole procession halted at the base of the tall tower of stairs. She reached out of me, her slender hand callused the way no Empress-consort ever should be, and I reached out and took her hand with my dirty glove. Her hand might have been small, but it was strong. She squeezed through the leather, holding mine tight for a long moment. There were tears in her green eyes, though I knew she’d never let them fall in the presence of so many people.

“Empress.”

Slowly, I turned in my seat to see General Merien at my other side, his hand outstretched. I hadn’t needed help dismounting a horse since I was five years old and could find a way to tumble out of the saddle on my own. A part of me wanted to swat it away, but the general wasn’t doing it because he thought I really needed assistance; it was a show, a sign of respect. It was something I was going to have to get used to, or so he had told me time and time again over the last two weeks as we made preparations for this moment.

I took a deep breath, my chest pushing against the metal of my armor. This was it. The moment my father had told me to remember all my life. A chill slithered down my spine, and the weight settled onto my shoulders. No longer “Sir Jade” or “General” but Empress. 

I extended my hand down to the general and deftly dropped to the ground. Brownie, my mare, tossed her head, and I gave her nose a gentle nuzzle. She would behave, I knew that, and she knew that, but she just wanted to remind me that it was her choice and not mine. Fine. I could live with that little bit. I couldn’t wait to see how she bossed her way around the stable horses here.

My feet stopped at the base of the stairs. There were two rises of stairs. In the middle where it hauled its steep incline for just a few feet, little children sat holding bouquets of flowers, probably ready to give them to me. I gave Merien a look.

“It wasn’t my suggestion. The Capital House-Mistress insisted.” Merien was hiding a smile, I could tell by the pull in the corner of his eyes.

“I didn’t practice holding all of those.”

The general shifted a shoulder ever so gently, “just pretend they are a bunch of swords, Empress.”

“Not helpful.”

He snorted, but then his face turned serious, and he grabbed my other hand, holding both of them. It was an oddly tender gesture for a man who had helped teach me how to shoot an arrow between someone’s eyes. “I have never been so proud. And I know he would have been too.”

I swallowed hard. I had not inherited my mother’s ability to keep a stoic face but I would not cry. While not a particularly vain person, I knew that I did not want to reach the top of the stairs splotchy and tear stained. “Thank you. Merien.”

The general gave me a deep brow before releasing my hands. There was no more stalling. The only thing left was to make the climb, and face the crowds. Those daunting crowds. Leading troops into battle and making battlefield speeches was easy. I’d been doing it all my life. What I was embarking on was a whole other matter.

“Right. Here we go.” I tossed the ridiculous cape they had all forced me to wear, and took the first step. Then another, and another until I was properly scaling the steps. With each step, I was further and further from the general and my mother, from the troops that felt like home. It was like I was ascending into the clouds and I wasn’t sure my wings were going to hold me up. Even the crowds were hushing, and I desperately wished they wouldn’t. 

I reached the plateau, and a woman in a navy silk dress and a sheer headdress waved the children forward. All four of them rushed up with bouquets of blue and white flowers, most of which I couldn’t identify. Their little faces were innocent, scrubbed clean, and eager to please. It was hard not to smile at them, though it was harder still to be graceful and take each bundle of flowers from bouncing, tiny arms. 

We managed it, though a flower dropped down to my feet. One little girl picked it up and offered it to me. “No, no. Why don’t you keep it safe for me?” Her face lit up, and she clutched the poor flower to her chest. The poor plant wasn’t going to make it crushed to her like that.

I walked up to the next set of stairs, the last set and paused next to the House-Mistress. “You know, I didn’t really need these.” I shifted the flowers a bit.

“You don’t, Empress,” her voice was low but soothing, “but they do.” She jutted her chin toward the crowds behind me. I refused to turn around. “You’ll have to excuse some ceremony. You’re not on a battlefield anymore.”

I gave her a look.

“Pardon my tongue.”

“Never pardon your tongue around me, House-Mistress. The day that happens, I expect you to give me a hard slap across my cheek.” And I meant it.

“The day that happens, Empress, you will have more to worry about than a slap from me.”

I liked her already. “I like you, House-Mistress.”

“And I like you, Empress. Now climb those stairs before you make a mess of these flowers.” She stepped away from me. My mother was going to adore her. Good. She needed a friend who wasn’t coated in mud, horse sweat, and stinking of camp fires.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, my calves were burning, and I could feel the sweat dripping down the back of my neck. It was near noon, the sun beating down on all of us, when I turned to face the quiet crowd. My arms were laden with flowers, and the cape was pulling at the attachments in the merciful breeze. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do now that I was there. I had prepared a couple of speeches, but looking over everyone, they seemed so ordinary. 

A servant, a small woman, slipped up besides me, her head down, and slowly took the bundle of flowers from my arms. Before I could even thank her, she was gone, and I was left standing there awkwardly, the crowd waiting for me. My tongue was lead, my throat dry, until I saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. One of my standards. I nodded to myself, perfect.

In two swift steps, I strode over to the flag and snatched it out of its stand. With the wind picking up, lifting the heavy fabric into the air, I made my way back to the center. Once there, I took a moment. I looked over the masses, then down at my troops, at General Merien, and finally my mother. I held her gaze as I lifted the standard high above my head.

I said nothing, but the crowd roared.

I sat in the window bench in one of the central bedchambers. It wasn’t the “emperor's” room, that was I giving to my mother since she had shared it with my father and I thought she might like it, but it was the best of the guest chambers. The room would suit my purpose, looking out over the inner courtyard which would need some updating from its pretentious flowers that both my mother and I wrinkled our noses at when the fragrance had hit our noses.

My mother sat behind me, her slender fingers weaving my black curls into an elaborate plaited design. Playing with my hair was so soothing after the morning events, that I wasn’t even protesting whatever design she had settled upon. No doubt it would be far too fancy for my tastes, with one too many jeweled pins stuffed in it, but as the House-Mistress had told me, a little ceremony had to be excused. I could go back to my tunics and trousers tomorrow.

She hummed a little tune as she worked, the same one she used to sing to me when I was just a child, and father was on one of his campaigns. I closed my eyes until she patted my shoulders. “There. Fit for an empress.”

I glanced in the window, just making out my reflection. I sighed.

“I know,” Her face appeared next to mine, “but humor me for today, my little wildflower.”

Gently, I moved away from her and got up to pace about the room. It was filled with floral brocades and gold trimmed furniture. Everything would need to go. Except the bed. I had already tested the bed with a good leap, and it could stay. The final verdict would be tonight after I slept on it, but for now, I was pretty sure it would stay. 

“Only for today.” I dropped down onto the heavy wooden trunk of my things I had brought in, sitting at the foot of the bed. Behind me, a silk gown was laid out, a deep v cut into the neckline, and obnoxious long, draped sleeves. How I was to eat without dragging food about the table, I wasn’t sure. 

“And your wedding day.” My mother turned to face me, but didn’t leave the window. I glared. “Don’t look at me like that, wildflower. It’s not going to be your choice. You’re an empress now and a union will need to be made, for the safety of the Empire.”

I chewed my lower lip. At this rate, my lip would be raw before I could toast at the feast tonight. “Not for some time.”

“Sooner than later. You know this.”

I did. She was right. All the generals had hinted at it over the past few weeks. I was young, but in their minds, I also put myself in danger more than they’d like, and a marriage would add some stability. I hated the thought, quite liking my freedoms, but I supposed, just like ceremony, there were things the people needed that I would not like. Marriage being one of them. I shuddered at the thought of sharing a bed with some nameless man picked out by a committee. 

Seeing my discomfort, my mother rounded the bed, nudged me a little to give her space, and sat on the trunk beside me. “Your father and I were arranged. Carefully. We’ll just be more careful with your match, but know, you can only stall so long.”

I gave her a look and she chuckled. “Don’t underestimate my powers to stall. I am Empress now.”

“Yes,” she patted my knee and stood, “an empress who needs to change out of her riding leathers and prepare to put a crown on this head.”

I swiveled to look at the gown. How revealing it would be, even in yards of silk. No armor, or leather, or loose linen to hide in. “Must I?”

“Don’t be a child, Jade.” She scolded. I groaned, very child-like.

Before she could scold me more, a knock on the door interrupted her. I raised my hand vaguely. “Come in.”

The House-Mistress entered, same dress, but a more elaborately embroidered headdress. She bowed and stayed just inside the door. People standing so far away from me would be the first thing to go. I didn’t need the distance for protection; I could certainly protect myself. Nor did I care much about it from a respect level. The generals and I had shared small tents for headquarters for years.

“I’ve come to introduce you to your maid, Empress. So you may be on time for your coronation.” There was a subtle jab there. I bit back a snort of approval.

“A maid?” I frowned. My mother shot me a look of disapproval. “Right. Send her in.”

“Good.” The House-Mistress waved a hand and a young woman, probably three or four years my junior slipped in. 

She was a slight thing with a dress too large on her, but made of fine linen. Mousy brown hair peeked out from beneath her headdress that when the sun caught it, almost looked like gold. Her face was warm, full cheeked and though she kept her eyes down, I liked them. She looked trusting, like a sister or a distant cousin might.

“This is Amalthea. She’s a good girl, and the third daughter of one of your wealthiest lords, Lord Burley.” 

Ah, that explained the fine linen. 

“Well, a pleasure to meet you, Amalthea.” My mother, ever the diplomat, went over and took the small girl around the shoulders, leading her in. With a nod, she dismissed the House-Mistress as only a former empress-consort could. “Why don’t you and I both help the Empress today. She’s in a mood.”

I huffed. “I am not. I’m in a mood not to wear a dress that will catch on a random corner and drag me to the ground.”

Amalthea’s lips twitched toward a smile. Good. She had spirit, and mother seemed to like her already. No doubt Amalthea would be the daughter she never had in me. That would suit me just fine. Maybe she could focus her braiding on her in the future.

An hour of fussing later from both my mother and Amalthea, and I was standing facing the closed doors to the Grand Hall. As a child, I had never been invited into this space of the Capital. The ceilings floated into the sky in beautiful interlocking arches with paintings depicting the history of our empire. The doors were heavy, dark wood, carved with flowers and vines and stags. I was memorizing the little imperfections in the hand carving of one elaborate rose bloom when I heard trumpets on the other side of the door. 

My heart stopped.

I looked over at General Merien at my side, a stand-in from what should have been my father’s place. He gave me a comforting nodd, but I found little comfort in it. I was too bare. The dress hugged too many curves and exposed too much skin at my throat. I wanted my armor. Where was my armor?

The doors swung open and a long line of the most ridiculously dressed individuals in my Empire crowded before me. Their heads swiveled almost comically, jewels and chains jingling. I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the sight of it. All the wealth in the room, so much gold and velvet, even in the late summer heat, and outside these walls my people adorned themselves in linens and common stones. The latter was far more beautiful than the people before me. They were a stain, one I had plans to remove. The overdressed people before me would have to either adapt or leave. 

Their judgement flooded me in waves, raking down my athletic form, less voluptuous than most of the ladies, noting the calluses and scars, and deciding they found me wanting. I lifted my chin at them. What they found wanting, I was proud to flaunt. I hadn’t just waltzed into the Capital, but fought and bled for it. 

My mother was already waiting at the end of the long line of courtiers, and it was her soothing presence that drew me forward down the row. Slowly, step by step, I walked past them, refusing to even glance at their faces. There were quiet whispers from those furthest from me, but the clang of the armored men, some of my most trusted knights, drowned them out. I hadn’t lived twenty one years as a woman amongst men to be bothered by whispers. 

As I came to the steps that led up to the small platform where the throne sat, my mother stepped back, leaving the space open for me. Ceremony, I had to give them their ceremony. Well, a little bit of ceremony. I had no intention of putting on a coronation that would take more than an hour, as the holy men had dictated to me. When they had told me, I laughed in their faces. I was not going to kneel and stand and repeat pointless speeches. I told them I would repeat one oath and be crowned. This was a new empire and I did not have patience for the old.

The holy man I had selected, a sweet faced elder named Horrick, took my mother’s place near the edge of the top step. In his hands was a simple circlet, a hereditary crown from the time the Empire began, roughly forged with set rubies and emeralds. The first real thing about the whole day that felt authentic. I had already set about ensuring that my own personal circlet looked very similar.

As he stepped forward, the room fell still. This was it. Nothing would be the same again. He drew a breath. “From the First Age our emperors have been crowned with this circlet, forged by the first blacksmiths to signify the never ending, and unwavering leadership of our emperors. Many have fought for it, many more have died for it, and should it continue, many more will live to see it sit upon the head of our emperors to come. Today, we come to sit it upon a new emperor in a new age. We come together to forge a new promise that this great empire will remain strong and true. It is our promise from our emperor to us, just as it is our promise to do our part and pledge our duty to the crown.  

“Sir Jade Gwenyth Bertha Virillia, first of her name, the Silver Winged, General of the Twin Armies and Empress of our golden Empire, do you swear by the blood in your veins to hold true to your people. Protect them. Guide them. Love them as if they were all your own children, until the last breath has been uttered from your lips?”

I let the last echo of his voice die out, to make sure they were listening. With the glare of the sun in my eyes as I knelt before the holy man and dipped my head for him to better seat the circlet, I made my promise. “I, Sir Jade Gwenyth Bertha Virillia, first of my name, the Silver Winged, General of the Twin armies, promise by the blood in my veins to protect, guide, love, and above all, give my life for the people of our golden Empire until the day my last breath has left me.”

“Then by the power given to me by the Great God Above, I place this treasured crown upon your head. From this day forward you shall be Empress Sir Jade Gwenyth Bertha Virillia, first of her name, the Silver Winged, General of the Twin Armies. May your reign be long.”

The audience echoed, “May your reign be long.”

Gently, the holy man set the heavy silver circlet onto my head of braids, and I found myself thankful for all the plaiting my mother had done to protect my skull from the weight. I stayed kneeling there for a long moment, even after sweet Horrick had stepped back. Slowly, I lifted a hand to kiss my fingertips, then leaned forward to touch those same fingertips to the marble platform just before me. My own solemn promise to never let the weight of the crown distort my soul as it had so many other emperors before me.

I climbed to my feet, overly careful of the hem of my ridiculous dress and took the final steps to the dark wood throne waiting for me. Turning, I looked back over the crowd, their upturned faces and glittering jewels. I began to chew my bottom lip and abruptly told myself to stop. Instead of worrying it, I swept my arms wide, the draped fabric flying out of the way of the armrests as I took my seat.

“Hail Empress.” And the crowd knelt in a ripple.

I locked eyes with General Merien as he knelt. Nothing would be the same. I had the distinct feeling that I was locking myself into a cage of my own making. My life was not my own anymore. While I was proud to fulfil my father’s dream, I found myself mourning. Mourning for myself and the knighthood I had so long enjoyed.