#the 'wrong idea' thing is less deliberately rude and more 'put his foot in his mouth but he's trying to protect MC's reputation from rumors | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cupcakemolotov · 3 years ago

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Match My Heart to Yours

Okay, since the Exchange reveals have been pushed back until Thursday (for very, very good reasons) I have decided to post a tiny thing to hopefully tide people over. I do sort of intend to write more on this, but I have been stalled for a few months which means I need to change things up. So here is the first bit, hopefully you all like it!

You can also read it here on A03.

Synopsis: Enzo has an plan. Caroline has some serious doubts, because first all, werewolf, hot or not. Alpha, even. A political marriage to a man with his dimples seems like a terrible idea.

Caroline paused, chopsticks hovering over her container of fried rice. Across from her, Enzo looked relaxed, no real tension visible as he reached for another eggroll. “Excuse me?”

“Gorgeous…”

She narrowed her eyes at his placating tone. “I should have known your offer to pick up dinner two towns over was a bribe. You don’t even like Chinese food. You cannot be serious.”

Her witchy best friend would walk through fire for her, but perfect egg rolls an hour after they’d been picked up should have dinged as an obvious bribe. Though this was not nearly big enough.

“Would I have made the drive if I wasn’t serious?” Enzo asked, sighing when her expression didn’t budge. “You know what I do. What I really do.”

Her gaze dropped to his wrist were a tattoo wound along the bones and tendons, the ink black and red, starkly visible against the olive of his skin. Usually he used the modern advances in makeup to hide what no magic could, because sometimes people were less understanding about this particular quirk of his magic than others. She’d never had a problem with it, but she was human and had no desire for his services.

Caroline speared a piece of shrimp and narrowed her eyes in warning. “I am very aware of what you do with your magic when you aren’t perfecting fireballs and lightning strikes, Enzo. No need to be rude.”

“Care…”

She chewed carefully, giving herself a moment so she didn’t do something stupid like throw the food at him. The wood floors were brand new. “I’m human. No witchy bloodlines for ten generations or more, and definitely not a werewolf. São Paulo proved that. In spades. So, seriously, there is zero reason for your magic to like me for this.”

A faint grimace. São Paulo had not been a good time. Not for anyone.

“You know it doesn’t always work like that,” he said patiently, dunking his egg roll repeatedly into the sweet and sour sauce, his expression wry. “Sometimes my magic has a mind of its own.”

She rolled her eyes. “Enzo, tell me something I don’t know.”

A small laugh escaped him. “True.”

“Have I ever done anything, absolutely anything, that would make you think I’d want to have a matchmaker stick their nosy magic in my life?” Caroline set her chopsticks down and started closing containers, her appetite gone.

A sigh. “No.”

“Damn straight. Isn’t there some kind of ritual involved? Blood magic? The romance novels I read on this subject insisted consent was a factor and blood had to be given willingly, much to the displeasure of several southern mamas.”

He deliberately finished his eggroll, sauce-soggy rice paper and all, chewing methodically. “Normally. This isn’t a… usual situation.”

“Normally?” Sitting back, Caroline waved her hand. “The food buys you an explanation. So start talking.”

Enzo leaned back, chair creaking, and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Look, you’ve been in Europe the last, what? Six months?”

“Eight, and should I be hurt you weren’t counting?”

He snorted. “You spent the last eight months chasing diamonds. Busy enough you even stopped answering texts in a timely manner, so I imagine you haven’t kept up with what’s been going on.”

“Excuse you? What text did I not respond to?”

“Emoji’s are not words, Caroline.”

Caroline pressed her chin to her palm, gaze narrowed. “Stop being old, Enzo. And let’s be clear. It’s not like I was chasing just any diamonds. These were expensive. The kind of expensive we peons can never actually afford to legally own.”

Enzo rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen your rate sheet. You do just fine.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you, I do very good work. But what does my previous job have to do with the completely ridiculous proposal you brought me?”

“Mason died.”

Caroline arched a brow. “Yeah, I saw. That was impossible to miss. International news, all those TV Pundits talking about who would take over as the US Alpha, blah blah politics. Since he had the bad taste to die outside of a challenge fight, I didn’t have time to worry about it.”

Enzo put the plastic lid back on the sweet and sour sauce, his expression unhappy. “That’s the problem. He did die in a challenge fight.”

“Huh?”

He sighed and pushed his chair back. “This is a bit of a complicated story. As nice as these chairs are, something a little more comfortable might not be adverse.”

“You’re not getting any of the beer in my fridge until I’m sure I’m not kicking you out.” She narrowed her eyes. “The odds are not in your favor.”

“Cruel, but I suppose well deserved.” His chin tipped towards his car, expression amused. “Is now a good time to mention the cheesecake in the trunk of my car?”

“Enzo!”

He laughed and sauntered into her living room, flopping his favorite squishy chair. Caroline picked the couch. She motioned for him to start talking, and he slouched a little further down.

“Look, a lot of this isn’t common knowledge, alright?” Enzo grimaced. “Though it should be and I’m not sure how much longer they are going to manage to keep a lid on how badly the Council screwed this up.”

“Cover up?”

“Among other problems.”

“Mason was their darling.” And, she knew, some factions had whispered, their pawn. She reached up and shoved her bangs back to hide her wince. “Losing a wolf so pro-witch would have been a blow. Losing the top Alpha who was also pro-witch is a political travesty.”

“Political travesty or not, Mason’s dead, and they’re going to have to deal with the new Alpha. He isn’t known for his tolerance.”

“Most werewolves are suspicious of magic,” Caroline pointed out, curling one leg underneath her. “Can’t really blame ‘em, with how they ended up as werewolves. Vengeance, magical curse. That sort of thing tends to sour peoples opinions, and then you know centuries later, they really improved things with their required silver legislation.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong, but that’s not the kind of tolerance I am talking about.” He leaned back against the chair, and lifted his foot towards the coffee table, pausing, gaze darting towards her narrowed eyes. His foot thumped back against the floor. “The short version is that Mason was challenged, he lost, and the Witch’s Council, for lack of better words, bungled the announcement.”

“How do you bungle an announcement? Challengers have official channels they have to go through and everything.” She pointed at the TV. “They’ve even started wanting to televise the damn things, like it’s some kind of wrestling bout and not a fight to the death.”

Enzo rubbed a hand down his face. “From everything that I’ve been able to tell, Mason just… didn’t expect to lose.”

“That makes no sense. Mason wasn’t young, even by werewolf standards,” Caroline said slowly. “There have been rumors in Europe that he should have been disposed of as much as a century ago. They aren’t really sure why the packs here haven't risen up against him, particularly after the whole issue with his nephew abducting his bride after she’d been paired by the matchmakers to someone else.”

“Tyler Lockwood leads more with his dick than his brains,” Enzo agreed. “And that should have weakened Mason politically, spurring a few challenges. That it didn’t…”

“It’s only been ten years, and that isn’t that long for a werewolf,” Caroline pointed out. “It’s reasonable that the family of the disappointed groom would just now be in a position themselves to pick a fight. Hayley’s family is old blood but not particularly powerful.”

Enzo gave her a dry look. “When do werewolves ever wait to pick fights?”

“When they are going up against the top Alpha in the US and need public opinion behind them. The general public expects a dominance fight or a natural cause of death for all alphas,�� she said dryly.

He nodded in approval. “For someone so disparaging of politics earlier, you do have an excellent grasp of the situation.”

Caroline tossed a cushion at him, which he caught with a grin. “Please, my Mom was the Sheriff and Dad, well, you know Dad. Conspiracy theories and hatred of anything that so much whiffed of the unnatural. But none of that explains what actually happened?”

“We think Mason was using magic to win his challenge fights.”

Her lips parted. “But that’s… the packs would riot. Because something like that…”

“It’s something the Witch Council had to be involved in.”

She inhaled sharply. “That would be a disaster.”

“It is a disaster,” Enzo said bitterly. “There have already been two executions, and several investigations are still pending. We’ve managed to convince the new alpha to hold back the public announcement, but he’s losing patience. We need a solid infrastructure of a plan in place, because humans don’t do well with surprises of this kind, and right now we’re barely holding the alliances together.”

“And what?” Caroline asked exasperated. “The remaining Council has decided to hire a matchmaker? They think since the new Alpha is single, they must be in want of a partner? You’re going to announce the change of leadership, the challenge fight, and then announce he agreed to be matchmade?”

“Something like that.”

“Who is going to trust the Council after something like this?” She shoved her hair away from her face. “If I was the Alpha, I wouldn’t touch anything that they touch with a ten foot pole. That includes matchmaking.”

“I wasn’t hired by the Council, though a couple of my… co-workers have taken those contracts.” He seemed to consider his words and then shrugged. “I was hired by Bekah.”

“Rebekah Mikaelson?” She said, brows arching high. “Why is she involved in this? And I thought you two didn't get along. The last time you were in the same room, she lit your precious robes on fire.”

Enzo’s mouth curved into a slow smile full of male satisfaction. “She’s an odd one, but it’s not the worst way I’ve had someone flirt with me.”

“And the time she declared matchmaking the worst magical school in existence and she hoped you did the world a favor and never reproduced?”

“Charming, isn’t she? I don’t think she really likes children in general.” He looked unbothered. “The bit about my magic was just an attempt to be clever. Her insults have gotten better the more she gets to know me. I appreciate her dedication to getting my attention.”

“Yes, and that is what I am going to put on your gravestone. You finally got the attention you always wanted.” Caroline shook her head. “Insults and spells aside, why did she hire you?”

“Because the Witch Council is right, in a way. It’s going to come out that Mason lost a challenge fight and the witches tried to cover it up.” Enzo reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “A werewolf who is newly matched has more appeal than a single one, and it’s not a terrible way to divert the press.”

“Is he worried about appeal? Why are you worried about his appeal?” She threw up her hands. “He killed Mason. He is now unequivocally in charge. Why does appeal matter?”

“We need stability.” Enzo’s face went grave. “We can’t afford a year of dominance fights when we’re already struggling with sorting through Mason’s people for traitors. Announcing a match buys us time.”

Caroline froze. “You want the year truce.”

“We need that year, Gorgeous. I’m not sure we’ll survive without it. Pairing off the new alpha? It’s the only way we’re going to get it.”

“And you want me to marry him? Why?”

“Why not you? You’re smart, resourceful, and not bad on the eyes. That you're from a small town will add to your appeal. Small town girl meets werewolf Alpha, and it’s a match. People will love you.”

“I’m a Finder, Enzo. That’s not exactly the most politically correct of jobs.” Her gaze narrowed. “Am I even going to be able to keep working if I agree to this?”

“Once things stabilize, sure, why not?”

“You’re really selling this.”

Enzo shrugged. “You know that one of the true weaknesses of Mason’s was that he refused to find a mate or even attempt a match.”

There had seemingly been a good reason for that. Werewolves were blessed with supernatural strength, a lifespan that more than tripled a normal human’s, and were highly territorial. Most of the time, those instincts could be driven towards their pack and maintaining the careful balance that the world existed in. A werewolf in love was a dangerous creature. Werewolves fighting over their lovers more so.

It was why Enzo’s magic existed.

“Uh huh,” Caroline drawled, unconvinced. “You're really going to tell an Alpha he can’t claim what’s his unless he agrees to a match, the very thing the last alpha decried as unnecessary. How’s that going? I bet not well.”

“The sooner you say yes, the better, then.”

She glowered at him, but he looked unrepentant.

“Seriously Enzo, matchmaking magic or not, this cannot be your best plan. I cannot be the absolute best idea you have for this.”

“Why not?” He leaned back. “From where I’m sitting, it’s a fantastic plan.”

Caroline’s jaw dropped and she stared at him. He was serious. She knew that set of his jaw, the glint behind his eyes. Matchmaking wasn’t a science, it was magic. A fail safe, a terrible and beautiful promise: that somewhere out there, somewhere, maybe, a soulmate existed. And if you were lucky enough, maybe magic would find them for you.

“Enzo, seriously this time. Why even ask me? You know I’ve never been interested in matchmaking with a werewolf or witch. I like my life.” She spread her arms to include the house. “What you're asking me to do, asking of me, it changes everything. Why?”

He was quiet for several moments, his gaze unfocused. When he spoke, his voice was strangely serious. “My magic likes the match.”

She considered that, shifting to hug her knees to her chest. She’d been friends with Enzo since she was seventeen years old and she’d dragged his half unconscious body out of a car wreck that should have killed him. In turn, he’d been there for her when her mom died and her dad disappeared. He’d helped her get established in her career of choice, even though he’d been disapproving of the reasons why she’d chosen to go into it.

She trusted him.

Enzo liked to hide what he could do because he was so good at what he did, and she’d seen him drunk more than once post-match. His magic was not… unkind, but it wasn’t easy, what it demanded of him. To put two people together, with the intention that they’d make a relationship work for possibly hundreds of years. The weight of success and the pain of failure were both so heavy.

Enzo did not match lightly.

His magic liked the match.

Her stomach flipped as she really considered what that meant. No such thing as soul mates, Enzo always insisted, just the endless probabilities of human lives narrowed to a single red thread between two people. And here, he said, was her chance to see if this probability would work for her.

She couldn’t decide what that made her feel.

“You swear this isn’t about Dad?”

A tip of his head. “While I have no compunction about putting a few hundred werewolves between you and whatever mess he left behind, it’s not about him. You were right. My magic should never have considered you for this. You’ve never wanted to find a match, and honestly, I’ve always liked that about you. And nothing about this is going to be easy. But when Rebekah brought me his blood, all my magic could see was you and the potential you two had together. I could no more deny you the chance to say yes than breathe.”

She groaned under her breath. “This could be a disaster. You know I hate politics, and I’m an only child. I’m terrible at sharing. He’s alpha. Nothing he does is his alone.”

“I know. The circumstances are unusual, so they’ve been willing to negotiate generous terms if things don’t work.” Enzo grinned. “No one wants to trap either of you, not when all parties know that magic isn’t infallible.”

She eyed him. “I don’t like it when you think you’ve got it all figured out.”

A laugh. “Come with me to New York. Give it two years. A year for the truce, a year to fortify whatever weaknesses his enemies attempt to manipulate. At the end, if you want out, no one will stop you. I’ll dissolve the marriage myself. No loopholes.”

Enzo never dissolved marriages. That, more than anything, told her how serious he was about giving her an out. How badly they needed to truce.

“I guess you really do have this all figured out.”

“I wish I did, but we both know that’s impossible with something like this. I can only read the magic, and tell you what I see. But I’ll do everything I can to help you.” He smiled ruefully. “We’ve gotten good at hiding bodies, what’s a few more?”

Caroline wasn’t sure she should have found that comforting, but she did. “And just who am I agreeing to consider marrying?”

Enzo suddenly coughed and stood, a familiar hint of devilment twisting his lips. “Klaus Mikaelson.”

She spluttered. “Klaus Mikaelson? You want me to marry Klaus? He killed Mason?”

His smile widened. “Yes.”

Caroline gawked at him. Before she’d gone to Europe, Klaus Mikaelson had been the third most powerful Alpha. Young, handsome, devastatingly charming, he made people forget just how terrifying he could be with a pair of dimples that raised the blood pressure of every woman past puberty.

He was also Rebekah Mikaelson’s half brother.

Enzo had been entertaining her for years about the Mikaelson sibling dynamic. Klaus had not been spared in those stories, and while she’d never met him, she knew two very important things: he was built on lines that had always, always snagged her attention, and the sharp temper of his wolf, the brutality of his temper, hid a clever, agile mind that made him dangerous to underestimate.

“Enzo!” She protested. “Klaus?”

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he spun towards her door. “Yup.”

“Just where do you think you are going?”

Enzo tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “To get your cheesecake. You didn’t think I lied about that, did you? And you might as well fetch me that beer. We both know I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow, at the earliest.”

Caroline stared at his back as the door clanged behind him, heart hammering in her throat for a hundred reasons she couldn’t explain.

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline drabbles #yeah #this sort of an interesting kind of crack

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minkmousesworld · 4 years ago

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Hi could I request for a Daki x reader that the reader has the same type of personality as tanjiro, and gets angry when someone flirts with daki.And daki loves both kind and angry side of the reader. I Don't know if its up to me or its up to you that this will be NSFW🔞 but if its not a problem that i kind want this to be nsfw🔞. Love your headcanons have a great day. Stay safe everyone.

hello, sweetie! thank you for your request♡ you didn't specify au, so I chose it myself. feel free to send another request if you want a different au!

Modern AU: Daki x Reader [SFW & NSFW🔞]

"I'm not jealous"

warnings: "soft but not" reader, jealous, a mix of scenarios and headcanons, smut under "🔞👑🔞" & "🔞👑♥️"

You couldn't call yourself an evil person. Or even irritable. It was as if you were born to be a kind and caring ray of sunshine, returning candy to children and taking cats out of trees.

Of course, everyone has their "moments", but you hid your own deep enough that others did not notice.

You have always preferred to smile, solve things peacefully and behave not aggressively.

Aggression is the way of the weak, right? Why be aggressive when you can be friendly? Everyone will get what they deserve.

Even if you did not believe in such words, the environment that adheres to the morality of "everyone will be rewarded", put a certain imprint on your personality, making everything less evil and dangerous.

Daki didn't really believe in such "sugar words". The most cunning and the strongest survive.

With her bright nails, pink phone cover, and stockings that she kept taking off because she hated them, Daki was as provocative and aggressive as a "cute girl from a not-cute family" could be. Although she wasn't physically the strongest, her cunning and charm were enough to be considered a dangerous opponent.

No one dared cross her path.

But even if people were constantly wondering if Daki had forced you to start dating her through "blackmail or threats of violence", you loved Daki.

And you knew that she truly loved you, even if you weren't a "good match" for the people around her.

Daki loved you, even though people said she should have chosen someone more... appropriate to her status. Usually she was rather rude to send people and be sarcastic when they climbed into their business.

Although she was undoubtedly no less surprised than others at her infatuation, when you, instead of hitting the offender and stopping similar situations in the future, preferred to calm and negotiate.

Daki never understood how she had fallen in love with someone so gentle and peaceful.

"All you have to do is buy a van and stop washing your hair, because you are already the epitome of 'Make love, not war!'"

"Daki, honey…"

But Daki loved that part of you. Your disdain for useless aggression delighted her rather than repelled her, even if she didn't agree with you on some issues. After all, perhaps your (strange) thinking has its positive side, even if it doesn't suit her?

Daki considered your thinking strange not only because of your peaceful moods even towards obviously hostile people and animals, but also because of your aggressiveness.

It is particularly aggressive.

This was a regular incident at first — people wanted to see if the information that you were dating was true. The more reserved and less modest asked directly, the less reserved and less modest... "went straight", focusing on the reaction.

What is the easiest way to cause jealousy? Flirting. And if they were rightly wary of Daki's reaction, then you… No one was afraid of you.

What can you make of the worst? Will you shake your head in displeasure? Will you say that you can not do this? You are more harmless than rabbits, which only the grass is afraid of.

It was safer to provoke you.

Until you left a bruise on the skin of the guy who tried to touch Daki while flirting.

You didn't want to hurt them! This is an accident! You are absolutely harmless!

You just didn't expect that someone would be smart enough to try to touch your girlfriend in your presence without permission. It was self-defense.

Even when you wrapped your hands around the collar of a very tall guy's shirt and asked him in a soft, calm voice not to disturb your girlfriend anymore.

Or when one of the girls explicitly flirted with Daki, hinting at sex, and you politely asked not to do so again. It's uncivil to flirt with a lady who already has a partner.

You weren't jealous.

You just didn't like this behavior towards Daki, because your girlfriend should be treated with respect and, at the very least, not try to start a romantic relationship with her while you are dating.

Daki said the opposite — that despite your jealous nature, she loves you, giggling playfully. You continued to deny her silly accusations of jealousy.

You weren't jealous.

You trusted her completely, and you certainly weren't jealous of the people who seemed to be around her all the time, especially those who didn't just hang out with her with harmless intentions of making friends.

Daki, on the other hand, saw your jealousy and dissatisfaction with the attention she received from other people.

She was sure that you had a gentle and patient nature, and has already accepted that she is now dating an "angel", but the angel suddenly turns out to be quite an earthly creature. You just didn't see what Daki looked like when she first noticed your jealousy.

She so obviously enjoys your reaction and emotions when again "some loser" tries to flirt with her. And you're kind of ashamed that you react so violently to such harmless things, but you just don't like this attitude from other people.

Although Daki likes to play on your nerves and see you territorial and jealous, she knows when to stop.

At least, she hopes she knows.

Your mind will always be a mystery to her, and Daki tries to think like you would, but she would rather hit the offender than hold out the "flower of peace". Therefore, in the intervals between flirting with you and leading an active social life, she tries to figure out what needs to be done so that this is a "red signal" for you to end your relationship.

"If you were offered a million dollars for letting a kitten out on a deserted street during severe frosts, would you agree?"

"Daki, honey…"

The way she tries to tease you by using others, how obvious it seems to be some kind of cunning plan that no one understands.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you jealous?"

No one dares to flirt with Daki after you get mad at one of the unlucky fans.

🔞👑🔞

warnings: rough sex, bite / marking, mention of public sex, petting, slightly smut

Daki likes to provoke you not only for the sake of reaction, but also for the sake of thrills.

She doesn't mind soft sex, but there's something exciting about biting her neck, or leaving marks on her chest and collarbone, or bringing her to another orgasm so that she screams out whose girl she is.

Even if your passionate impulses make her wear stockings to hide the marks on her thighs.

There is nothing wrong with teasing your jealous nature, if after you do not hesitate in the idea of "starting foreplay in the subway". Daki will not call herself a fan of public sex, but there is nothing wrong with you touching her breasts, getting your fingers under her black bra, or getting under her panties.

Or grab her arm and push her against the wall, biting her almost painfully. Daki knows that she can push you away and you'll listen to her, but it's just so exciting when you're so annoyed that you're ready to take her right now, in a human desire to possess her.

That you are not so reserved and peaceful when someone flirts with her. She's your girlfriend, right?

🔞👑♥️

The club's bathroom smells strongly of smoke and sickly sweet, cheap perfume.

Daki, playfully kicking you with her foot, shamelessly teases you, telling you how that cute guy was staring at her all the time you were in the park, or how that cute girl was making eyes at her while you went for ice cream, and was already intending to go to Daki and get a phone number.

"And what will you do? Will you thank them for looking out for me?"

One day, she will definitely drive you crazy with her caustic words.

"I swear, I didn't even think before that I could go so crazy with feelings. You're just a ticking time bomb"

Daki only smiles coquettishly in response, comfortably wrapping her arms around your neck, and spreads her legs, causing the skirt to lift higher, exposing her hips.

"Then why don't you take care of your feelings?"

It's almost cute the way she shivers under you, trying to scratch your back, and whispers to you to stop acting so jealous.

You deliberately don't touch her, leaving touches on her sensitive thighs decorated with your hickeys and on her breasts — red and irritated from the stimulation.

Daki is almost on the verge of starting to caress her clit on her own, pulling her wet panties aside, but you deftly grab her hand, not letting her touch her body, and passionately kiss.

Daki bites you in return, but squeezes your hair and doesn't let you break the kiss. And unsuccessfully tries to pull her hand out of your grasp, fidgeting in place to get at least some satisfaction.

With a little pressure on her panties, you pull away from your wild lover — ruddy, panting, dissatisfied and angry.

"Look, honey", you whisper, licking your bitten lips, "didn't you tell me I was jealous? Well, now let's show everyone how jealous I am. With your moans, of course".

#gender neutral reader #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #gn reader #nsft #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #demon slayer scenarios #daki x reader #daki #🍡.requests #🐹.anonymous2stuff #🍡.rough sex #🍡.petting

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sirowsky · 4 years ago

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, mentions of torture and murdered children.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: Well, now, I seem to have gone a little overboard here, because this chapter is 6550 words! I’m sick with the flu and isolated and bored, and all I do is sleep, so I have no idea how this happened. The chapter is a bit heavy, lot’s of information to get across for future developments, but we meet some new characters that will be recurring! Also - next chapter is going to be the big 100K one, so please send me a word or phrase you’d like me to incorporate in it, I like a challenge! All my love to you, darlings!

Chapter 36

The next morning, Marcus woke you up in an unconventional way. Normally, he’d just kiss you somewhere, or throw one or two limbs over you and pin you down so that he could try and pretend that he didn’t have to get up from the warm bed, and your soft skin. While he didn’t have a bad morning mood, like you, he was lazy and languid and almost excessively soft the first half-hour of the day. But on this day, he woke you by quite literally jumping on you. You were lying on your side, with your back to him, and somewhere in the sluggishness of still-asleep-but-not-fully, you heard his phone beep. Since it wasn’t your alarm, your sleep-drunk brain ignored it, but you were aware of him turning to retrieve it from the floor next to his side of the bed. It was just a double mattress on the floor, but it was good enough to hold you over. But then, he was suddenly bouncing into the air with a loud whoop coming from his lips, before he landed on top of you and started attacking you with wet kisses, tickling you with his patchy beard and giggling happily while he kept bouncing.

“What’re you doin…?”

You were groaning the words out in a garbled mumble against the pillow, but he ignored you. He kissed your nose, then bounced, then his moustache tickled your neck, and he bounced again, then he tugged the covers down and kissed your shoulder, bounce, his beard rubbed the top of your right breast, bounce, his lips smacked against yours, bounce… He was being deliberately annoying in order to get you angry, because he knew that that was the fastest way to get you fully awake. But even though you knew that, it still really got on your nerves.

“Fuck-off, Marcus…”

He just giggled more, knowing he was starting to get to you. And then he stood on all fours over you, and just bounced like a gazelle, repeatedly, endlessly, while he kept chuckling like a giddy kid, until you had enough. With a loud growl, you flung your eyes open and rushed at him, pushing him backwards until he fell over onto his back at the foot of the bed, still smirking and vibrating with light laughter even after you pinned him down and glared at him.

“What the hell is so damned funny ahead of the fucking alarm clock?”

“Ooh, I love it when you get all rough first thing in the morning.”

You were technically straddling him, although there was no real contact between your sexes, and you were too tired and angry with him to feel the least bit horny. That is, until he lunged his hips up and his hard morning glory bumped right at your opening. It was just enough of a reaction to cause you to lose focus, and he took the opportunity to use his superior strength to swap your positions, except he didn’t hover over you anymore. He nestled himself in between your thighs, grinding hard into your mound, knowing you needed a bit more force to coax your body into playing, while your brain was practically still asleep.

“We got it, querida.”

He smiled into the sweet kisses he peppered onto your neck while you tried not to let him persuade your body into morning sex. You weren’t in the mood, not really, and this was gonna be a hell of a day, even if everything went smoothly. His voice dropped to that silky husk that you loved, as he whispered in your ear.

“We got the house.”

…What……?

You flinched and stared at his eyes as he brought his face up to where you could see it. He was serious. Suddenly you weren’t the least bit tired.

“We got it? It’s ours? Don’t you dare joke with me right now, Marcus…”

You already knew he wasn’t, but you needed him to confirm it. The whole house-hunt had been such a mess, and you’d fallen so madly in love with that place, with the big yard and the perfect kitchen, that when you thought you’d lost it, the whole hunt had sort of become irrelevant to you.

“They backed out, at the last minute. The realtor just texted me to congratulate us. It’s ours, mi amor. We can move in next week.”

His smile widened as he watched you absorb the news, and saw the joy spread through your features. Your body started responding to his, and he felt the heat rise in your skin, so he rolled you both again, to let you be the one to bounce this time.

That led to the two of you somehow not getting out of bed until an hour after the alarm did go off, subsequently ruining your entire morning, but amazingly, not your good mood. Your press-conference had been scheduled for noon, and you had some things to get done before then, but none of it bothered you all of a sudden. All those things that would have normally stressed you out just passed by without so much as raising your pulse, and you had the singular pleasure of seriously wigging out Anita when you crossed paths with her in a hallway, on your way to legal.

“Hey, Máma. What’s happening?”

“Why would anything be happening?”

“Um, because you’re here. You’re only here when something interesting is going on. So, spill.”

“Fine. I’m interviewing candidates for your replacement today.”

“Oooh… that means weird questions centred around flowers, right? Can I sit in?”

“Absolutely not, loco.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like having you around when I’m working, especially not when you’re… giddy…”

“It doesn’t come around often, you know, you might wanna capitalize.”

“And what exactly do you think I might need your good mood to get you to agree to?”

“How about… a garden in our backyard? So, your magic flowers can keep tabs on us.”

“I don’t need a garden to keep tabs on you, loco.”

“But you do need flowers nearby, because of the pollen, right? That’s how it works, isn’t it?”

Uuuhh… and just where did that come from?

Anita stared at you with the most complex expression you’d ever seen, and at any other time, you would’ve been seriously disturbed by it, but this time, you just beamed a huge grin at her, and patted her shoulder affectionately as you passed her by.

“I won’t tell. Promise!”

Then you skipped away down the hall, happy as a cloud, having apparently worked out how at least one of Máma’s abilities worked, without even knowing it.

After the meeting with legal, to officially sign on for all the duties and responsibilities of a Heroic, you headed down to the Batcave to put on your costume. Velma had tinkered a little bit with the detailing, but overall, it looked the same as before. You allowed her to style your hair into your preferred ‘up and away from your eyes’ manner, and do your modest and simple make-up, which she still managed to get twice as nice as anything you could do. And then you were ready. With an hour to spare, no less.

“How you doin with that sparkle, honey? Got a handle on it yet?”

Right, you’d already forgotten about that.

“Nope, I haven’t tried it again yet. But I have some time to spare.”

“Ooh, yes, gimme more glitter, baby!”

“Wait, don’t tell me you saved that stuff?”

“See now, darling, that offends me. Do I look like the sort of person who would ever waste glitter?”

“My apologies, my Queen, how utterly rude of me. Allow me to attempt to create some more for you.”

Velma just nodded appreciatively and stepped back a little.

You started picturing the same colourful images that had flooded your mind the day before, and tried to flood the air around you with them using your energy. But it was like it wasn’t there. Whatever it was that had put you in such a splendidly good mood that morning, you were suddenly certain that it had something to do with the sudden emptiness inside you. As though the happiness had been some side-effect of your body no longer having to deal with that constant drain on your energy-reserves. That strange feeling that lived in your chest and your gut, and that you had just started to become comfortable with, and used to, as it triggered and activated your powers, just wasn’t there anymore. The giddiness vanished, replaced with a growing anxiety as you began to realise the potential consequences of this. It might be temporary, or it might be permanent. Your powers weren’t natural, and thus, they couldn’t be judged by the same data as the other’s. But if it was a permanent loss, the contract you’d just signed would put you in a precarious situation, not to mention the fucking press-conference. How the hell were you supposed to stand there and proclaim yourself a Heroic with no powers?

“Sugar? What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t. My powers aren’t working.”

“Oh, no. That doesn’t sound good. Go to research, honey, they’ll take care of you.”

“No, I can’t. We don’t know who to trust, remember?”

“Oh, dang it all to hell. Well, go find Marcus, then.”

You sprinted out of the cave and went to find him, not even seeing the eyes popping on the people you passed in the corridors and stairwells, as they took in your outfit. He wasn’t in his office, so you headed for the Control centre, and forced yourself to stop and calm down before you stepped inside. He was there, by the centre console with his broad back to you, overseeing some transfer of equipment from overseas, and there was a kind of chatter in the room, as the operators and analysts kept feeding him information, and mumbling to and between themselves. But, as you entered, all eyes fell on you, and everyone went quiet. Marcus noticed the change and turned around to investigate. You watched his eyes go from seeing the people all staring in the same direction, to seeing you standing there in your outfit, and for a moment, that same predatory darkness filled his eyes. He was acutely aware of how everyone was staring at you, and while it made him proud to see others appreciate the beauty he so clearly saw in you, it also made him possessive. A need to declare to the whole world that you belonged to him flooded his system and made his adrenaline spike, and you could see it in his whole frame. But it only lasted for a second, because then he saw your eyes, and realised that something was wrong, and his fear took over. He handed the room over to one of the operators, and led you out, and he didn’t stop until you’d reached his office. He placed the little device that scrambled all forms of listening or recording of the room, on the desk, and turned it on before he spoke.

“What is it?”

“They’re gone… my powers, I can’t even feel them.”

“What… how is that even possible?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. Do you know if this has ever happened to any of the supers?”

“No, it hasn’t. We all experience fluctuations, especially while we’re young, but I’ve never heard of anyone actually losing their powers. Are you sure they’re gone? Not just… on the fritz?”

“They’re gone. I know that feeling so well, because it scared me for so long, and now it just isn’t there anymore. I can’t be a Heroic now. Which, technically doesn’t bother me, you know I never wanted to be, but we needed this.”

“Okay, slow down, we don’t know if this is permanent yet.”

“Marcus, the announcement is in half an hour! You expect me to stand there and proclaim myself a Heroic, when all I can do now is throw basic self-defence at any enemy?”

He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“No, you can’t do that. We can’t let anyone see that you’ve been weakened. We have to call the conference off.”

“Fuck. Allen is gonna have my head…”

“He’ll have to go through me.”

“I feel like such a hypocrite even wearing this thing now.”

You tugged poignantly at the top of your costume, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable in it than you had the first time you put it on. He grabbed your chin and lifted it to keep your eyes on his, so that you could see that he was dead serious.

“Hey, don’t say that. Whatever else has happened, few people have earned a Hero’s costume more than you, and I don’t ever wanna see you wear it with anything but pride, you hear me, hermosa?”

Your eyes teared up for some reason, and it sparked a torrent of emotions to flood your system. Suddenly you were shaking with fear, sadness and a growing feeling of vulnerability.

“I know it’s irrational, I know I’m not any more fragile just because I can’t tear buildings apart anymore, but I just feel so breakable now.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, knowing that no words of comfort would be enough right now. You tried to calm yourself, knowing that there was too much for you to get through in the immediate future to allow you the luxury of breaking down just yet.

“We need to talk to Allen and Ms. Granada, before it’s too late to call it off.”

“We also need to get you checked out, but by who?”

“Fuck if I know. One problem at a time, please.”

“Oh, shit! Norway…”

“You got the green light?”

“Yeah. For you and me, at 4 pm.”

“Great, this just gets better and better. Now all we need is for our fucking house to burn down, too.”

“Whoa, don’t jinx it!”

“Honey, if that happened – we would have to finally accept that the universe has chosen us to bear a large percentage of all the crap in this world, so that someone else doesn’t have to. And then we can just give up on all dreams and ambitions and go live in an igloo in Antarctica.”

“I have no idea how to respond to that, except - penguins.”

“Wait… I think I have an idea about how we can steer past the press-conference.”

“If you’re about to tell me it has something to do with flightless birds…”

“What? No, of course not. We need to talk to Allen.”

An hour later, you and Marcus where on the Heroics jet, heading for Norway, and Marcus was genuinely impressed with how easy your solution had ended up being. Granted, it only bought you a little bit of time, but perhaps that would be enough. Basically, you’d just convinced Allen that your business in Norway had become urgent, and that you needed to go immediately, or lives might be in danger. It worked because it was technically true, which made it just real enough to persuade him. Whatever shitstorm you’d be facing when you got back, was another matter entirely, and one you’d both chosen to ignore for now.

“So, provided my intel is accurate, and we have to assume it is, we should start looking in a small community called Ersfjordbotn, just south of Tromso.”

“What led you there?”

“A twitter-post. Don’t ask.”

“Okay.”

“You told me that her power is discreet, and that that’s how she’s been so good at staying off the radar, but you never told me what it is?”

“She can fiddle with temperatures, only in her immediate surroundings, and only a few degrees, but around people that’s all it takes to put you out.”

“Neat. When did you last see her?”

“Oh, god… probably around ten years ago now. She was really young and really scared of everything to do with Heroics and responsibilities and the spotlight, most of all. But her family was poor and her parents only saw the advantages of having their daughter become a famous person, so they ignored her protests, and as a result, she ended up running away.”

“And they sent you to find her?”

“Mhm. I caught up to her in Canada, but she was so desperate to be free, to not have to shoulder the burden of caring for her family, as well as the whole damned world, at a mere 16 years old, that I just couldn’t bring myself to take her back. I gave her all the cash I had on me, and the names of some people I knew would help her if she could find them. And that’s the last I ever saw of her.”

“Poor kid. I’m sorry you have to do this, honey.”

“I hope we can find her, because I’d love to know that she made it. That I didn’t send her to her death that day. But, if we do find her, we’re not gonna force her to do anything, which is why I’m fine with all this.”

“Did you get the new location on Verity yet?”

“Yeah. Mississippi this time.”

“So, if Neune wants in, that’s our next stop.”

“Let’s just find her first.”

Airport, rental, getting lost twice, and swooning over absolutely every piece of scenery you drove past, later – you found Ersfjordbotn. Your costumes were enough to draw all attention to you, so if Neune was there, she was bound to hear about it soon enough. So, you just parked the car and headed into a coffeeshop for an evening snack while you waited. The shop closed about an hour later, but the midnight sun meant that you had full daylight all through the night, which was odd, but really amazing. The scenery was so dramatic with the steep mountains and hills dropping almost straight down into the fjord. The community was small and all the buildings ran along the waterline at the base of a mountain, and as you walked, you started thinking about the house that waited for you back home.

“About the move.”

“Hm?”

“Honey, we’re gonna have to go on a serious shopping-spree as soon as possible. As if we have time for that, in the middle of all this… And you know what furniture stores are like. It takes five weeks to get anything delivered, and if you want something special or customised, it’s twice that.”

“Don’t worry, in that regard, being famous has it’s perks. No store wants the bad press involved with disappointing a Heroic.”

“It’s still gonna take time. Moves always do. I mean, for christs sake, we don’t even have cutlery.”

“What happened to your cutlery? Someone eat it?”

You stopped at the sound of a melodious voice to your right, and turned to find a woman sitting perched up on a rock a few metres up the hillside. Her clothes were so perfectly toned to the colours around her, that if she hadn’t spoken, you’d have never seen her, even if you’d looked straight at her. You felt Marcus relax next to you.

“Hi, Neune. I’m happy to see you again, you look good.”

She stood up and made her way down to you, moving with ease over the lose rocks and patches of unruly grass. She was a few inches taller than you, and heavyset. Strong, there was no doubt about that, and curvy to boot, but her warm dark skin was probably the most beautiful thing about her. She looked like the kind of woman that wouldn’t hesitate to beat you senseless if you deserved it, but would also love you unconditionally if she decided that you were a good enough person.

“So do you, Moreno. I was sorry to hear about your wife. But I’m glad to see you seem to have found your way.”

“Thank you. Yes, this is my fiancé. Hermosa, this is Deema Neune.”

You held out your hand and she took it. Her grip was firm and cool, but when her skin touched yours, she seemed to react to something, and kept holding onto your hand while she looked closer at you.

“You’ve been damaged. Badly.”

You were suddenly nervous. The intensity of her eyes was piercing.

“Uh… which time are you talking about?”

“There’s more than one?”

“There’s like a dozen. I apparently have some self-sacrificial tendencies, and it’s landed me in some serious trouble a few times.”

“Neune, how can you tell that she’s been hurt? You didn’t have that kind of ability the last time we met.”

“My powers have evolved over time, Moreno. I can use my gift to reach into peoples’ bodies and trace their blood, their history, through their scars. And you, my dear, have a great many on the inside, though none on your skin.”

“Yes. People keep wanting to hurt me, for some reason. I blame the balance of the universe.”

“You have known power. I can trace the marks it’s made when you’ve ended up hurting yourself. It’s like your body was at war with your power, the damage is everywhere.”

“That’s probably because it wasn’t natural. It was put inside me by a… mad man.”

“That would explain it. But I’ve never heard of such a thing. How was it done?”

“That’s a long story, and not a good one. It involved the torture and murder of dozens of children.”

The younger woman flinched, and her eyes darted over to Marcus, looking for confirmation of these terrible news, before returning to stare at you. But your eyes had dropped to somewhere around her waist, but not seeing her. Your focus was on something inside your own mind, a thought that had occurred to you, hearing this woman detail what Prince’s experiments had actually done to you.

“Oh, my god. Marcus, that’s why my powers are gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m protective by nature, that’s why I’m always ready and willing to sacrifice myself if that’s the only option I can see. But, the baby changes all that. I’m not willing to sacrifice that, not for anything. So, if my own powers have actually been hurting me, a little bit every time I use them, isn’t it possible that I somehow just forced my body to stop producing those cells?”

Marcus frowned.

“I wouldn’t put it past you, but it still sounds improbable. Those cells are incredibly strong, even if you stopped producing them, it would still take months for them to leave your system, and leave you completely powerless. It wouldn’t happen overnight.”

Neune asked you to look at her again.

“What I see inside of you, tells me that you’re stronger than any person I’ve met before. If your body decided that the stress it was under was too much to provide a safe place for your child, I do believe that you could and would’ve done whatever was necessary to change that. But I also believe that Marcus is right. Your body might have forced the powers to stop, but I don’t think they’re actually gone.”

“But I can’t feel them at all.”

“What exactly can you do?”

“I can heal people, at great cost to myself, and I can reach into other dimensions, and the energy I find there I can use in several different ways. Like adding to the density of a room or specific area, until it breaks, or displaying images and memories around me, like tv-screens. And recently I created some sort of rainbow dust that seemed to serve no purpose whatsoever, except it was really pretty.”

“Everything we create has purpose. Where you doing anything special when you produced this dust?”

You glanced sheepishly at Marcus, and he smiled.

“I might have… been less than gentlemanly with her at the time.”

“Ah… that would do it, I suppose. How recently was this?”

“Yesterday.”

“Good, then the echo will still be there.”

You blinked and refocused on her.

“Echo?”

“All powers leave an echo in your body as they pass through it, if I know what to look for, I can usually find it.”

“Usually. What are you, the local supers-witch-doctor?”

“I never stay anywhere for very long. No one here knows about my powers, but wherever I’ve been, I’ve helped people passing by, over the years. That’s probably how you ended up being able to find me. Now, stay still and let me concentrate.”

You locked yourself to the spot and tried to relax. You couldn’t feel her probing through your blood at all, but after a minute, you felt a strange wave course through you. It started somewhere in your gut, and worked its way through your body, and into your hands, where it suddenly left you – in the form of rainbow-coloured dust. It didn’t feel the same as your powers normally did, though. It didn’t shoot out of you in a plume, but instead just accumulated in your upturned hands, as Neune released them. She picked up a pinch of it, and rolled it around between her fingers.

“Hm. I have to say, you’re right; I really don’t see what the purpose of this might be. But I’m still certain there is one.”

You felt ambivalent. On the one hand, you were relieved to know that you weren’t as helpless as you’d feared, but on the other, you sort of wanted the powers gone. You’d never wanted them in the first place, and if they really were permanently damaging you, they weren’t worth the price. But, at the same time, being able to heal the ones you loved was something entirely invaluable to you.

“So, if I’ve somehow supressed my abilities because of the pregnancy, does that mean they’ll come back once the baby is born?”

“Probably. I suspect that if you really need them, for any reason, you’ll find that they’re right were you left them. Supers are complex beings. Our powers develop based on equal parts genetics and personality, and those two elements are sometimes in serious conflict with one another, creating chaotic results. Like a boy who’s terrified of hights, finding himself getting the ability to fly.”

“But mine weren’t naturally generated, so my genetics had nothing to do with it. The cells came from dozens of different people.”

“That would explain why you have several different abilities.”

“The scientists at HQ don’t think that. They say that my powers developed exclusively from my personality and body-chemistry, because the introduced cells wouldn’t have been able to influence my DNA.”

“I’m not a scientist, but I’ve spent the past 15 years trying to help other supers stay out of the spotlight, and I’ve learned that the genetics are always relevant. Even if they didn’t mess with your DNA, they most certainly influenced you.”

This was getting a bit too heavy for you to absorb any more, so you changed the topic.

“Thank you, for helping me figure out what’s going on with me, but that’s not why we came to find you.”

“I suspected as much.”

Marcus noticed you were struggling to focus, so he took over.

“We’re here because of the crazy guy who did this to her, Dr. Prince. We think he created some sort of organisation, who’s goal it is to make all humans supers. We’ve found enough breadcrumbs to suggest that we’re dealing with a global network that may very well have solidified into a corporation by now, if they’ve been able to secure funding. And we’re trying to create one of our own, in order to have a chance at defeating them, if and when we manage to draw them out into the open.”

“So, you’re here hoping to recruit me?”

“Yes. I know you don’t want the spotlight, and that’s not what we’re asking of you. Our organisation is covert as well, for the time being, and we need our operatives to work in the shadows, and we need them to be available all over the world. We need intel and research, our own global network to spy on theirs.”

“How many have you been able to recruit so far?”

“Unless you agree to be audited, we can’t tell you any details.”

“Audited?”

“We have a way to know with absolute certainty, that you’re not an enemy, but it would require a bit of a trip.”

“Where?”

“Mississippi.”

Marcus managed to persuade the pilot to take a detour on your return trip to the States, and you landed in Jackson-Ever airport the next morning. You’d concealed your costumes under regular clothing now, and took precautions to ensure no one was following you to your destination of Bay Park Drive, and a not at all inconspicuous brick-house, probably the biggest property on that street, with a pool in the backyard, and a boat-house by the water. Most of the properties had boat-houses since they where practically sitting on the water, but this house was the only two-story house you could see. Why the man had picked this place was beyond you, but then, he was odd. When the three of you walked in, Marcus sent a current through the house, to announce your presence, and a really uncomfortable surge of energy hit you in return. You must have felt that thing some 20 times by now, but it still felt just as unpleasant every time. With the greeting done, you moved through the bottom floor to the living room, and found Verity waiting for you in a reclining chair, with a tall glass of ice-water on a small coffee-table next to him. Other than that, there was no evidence of his presence there. No clothes or shoes laying around, no suit-cases, not so much as a footprint on the tile floors. He was thin to the point of looking almost hollow, but his warmly toned olive skin was radiant and his black hair and eyebrows made him look like some comic-book character, with those exaggerated features. All made even more poignant by his sharp and dark eyes.

“Welcome, my intrepid colleagues. What have you brought me today?”

You didn’t like speaking around Verity, for several reasons, but you did anyway, trying to train yourself to be less unsettled around him.

“Neune, this is Verity, a super with the ability to tell the truth about anything and everything, and fair warning: he only ever speaks the truth too, and he has no filter and shows no sensitivity towards anyone for any reason.”

The same uncomfortable energy surged around you, as Verity went to work.

“Ah… an old friend, returned to the fold. I can see your reasons for leaving were a bit over-dramatized, but no matter. In the time since, you’ve been busy. Hopping from place to place, looking for a purpose. You’re a clever one, good at hiding, staying just out of view. But you’re unfulfilled. Unhappy and lonely. You’re not here because you want to help, but because you’re looking for belonging, a family. No matter, your helpfulness will be no less useful.”

He paused, and turned to you.

“She’s acceptable. But, now tell me what’s happened to you.”

You felt his energy shift towards you, and it made you cringe away from him and close your eyes. Marcus took your hand, knowing how much you disliked Verity’s probing.

“You’re scared. Not just for your baby, but for something bigger. Something… on the other side of your power. Something you fear will come for you, from the worlds beyond.”

Your eyes flung open, and you stared at him while actually taking a few steps closer to him, still holding on to Marcus’ hand, as a daunting realisation hit you. You couldn’t put it into words, but you didn’t need to, because the truth-seeker always voiced his findings.

“You’re afraid that the energy you take from over there, will eventually be claimed in return, and that everything you love will be sucked over there, into the coldness. You fear your own power, because you don’t understand why it allows you access to those places. Those dark, empty, dead worlds. You fear them more than anything in this reality. And the realisation that as a Heroic, you’d be expected to use your abilities much more than you’ve been doing, finally made you scared enough to break the connection. You’ve cut yourself off from those worlds, and now you’re powerless and weak, and you can’t help but wonder which fear will kill you faster.”

You kept staring into his eyes while he drew the truth from your soul, desperate to hear it, and equally desperate not to. Tears streamed down your face as his energy let go of you, but you kept staring at him, kept trying to make his words less true somehow. Marcus finally tugged you back into his arms and held you as the tears started falling in earnest, and you could feel his current surround you while he tried to soothe you. Neune suggested they go into the kitchen to have a glass of water and sit down, probably because she too wanted a little distance from Verity. She handed you a glass after Marcus sat you down on a stool, and then the two of them started talking while you did what you could to calm yourself down.

“Is he always that direct? It seems a bit… brutal.”

“Yeah, he’s not really a people-person. He’s one of the best kept secrets in all of super’s history. Only a handful of people even know he exists.”

“Why? Someone with that kind of power…”

“Could rule the world. Or tear it apart.”

She slumped a bit in her chair as he cut her off, her own train of thought disrupted.

“I was gonna say he could help so many people.”

“Verity’s power manifested unusually early. He was only three when he began being able to tell – not just when he was being lied to – but what the truth behind those lies was. Imagine being three years old and realising that your parents are absolutely sick of not getting any sleep because of you.”

“Oh, god… parents lie to their kids all the time.”

“Exactly. Mostly for good reasons, mostly just to protect them, but Verity didn’t have that. And it made him distrustful towards everyone, to the point where he walked away from his family to live on the streets when he was just ten years old. If he wanted to, he could become president, he could force the whole world to bend to his wishes just by holding their lies as his hostages, or calling them out to discredit them. But he doesn’t have that desire for power. All he wants is to be free of lies and dishonesty, which is kind of impossible, so he stays hidden and keeps to himself where nobody can hurt him, and he can’t hurt anyone in turn. He’s only helping us because I asked him.”

“How do you know him?”

“I met him almost 20 years ago, by accident. He was living in the streets, and he got attacked by a drunk. And while his powers work just as well on drunks as sober people, the drunks don’t respond to him trying to call them out. Usually, he can keep people from hurting him by jarring them into just not wanting to be around him, by throwing uncomfortable truths at them. But drunks just either don’t hear or don’t believe him, and they’re not really susceptible to the discomfort his ability normally causes. So, this guy just kept going at him, and he was just in his late teens back then, he didn’t know any self-defence or anything like that. He’d never needed it. I happened to be passing nearby, and I heard this kid scream for help, so I ran over and picked the guy up and made sure he knew that it was in his best interest to leave. And when he did, I kneeled down to check on this kid, not much younger than me, and he was so scared. He hurled truths about me at my face as though they were insults, even though I’d just helped him, and it made me realise that this boy was scared of everyone. So, I just sat down opposite him and let him talk until he had nothing more to say. And when he realised that my truths didn’t scare me away, he gave up and just cried.”

“Poor kid. He must have had so much crap pent up inside after all that time alone.”

“Yeah. I stayed with him all night, and the more I understood about him, the more I knew that he could never be allowed to become a pawn in the political scene, or the Heroic one, for that matter. So, I got him in touch with people I knew could help him learn what he’d need to survive under the radar, and as a result, he’s been free to live however he chooses. And that’s a gift he’s been trying to repay me for a long time. He was actually happy when I approached him with this.”

“I feel like he might have gone easy on me.”

“He doesn’t generally, but he also just doesn’t see the need to disclose every little detail he finds. For the most part, he just voices the relevant stuff. Unless he decides he doesn’t like you, then he’ll reduce you to a crying ball with childhood traumas and unresolved issues.”

“Um… and… your fiancé? What was that about?”

His arm tightened around your waist, where he sat next to you, and he sighed.

“She’s had a difficult relationship with her powers from the start, and she was actually the first person that Verity’s had real trouble probing. Her fears are hidden incredibly deep, and she seems to be hard-wired to protect herself from them, to the point where even her powers have been shielding her from the truth. Now that that barrier has been lifted, Verity could finally see them clearly. It all makes so much more sense now.”

You didn’t feel like taking part in their conversation, your thoughts and feelings were all over the place, so you just listened and sipped your water and did your best not to cry anymore. After a few minutes of silence, Neune finally asked:

“So, what happens now?”

“If you still wanna be a part of this, we’ll send you back to Europe, to look for anything you can find about any covert organisation working on human/superhuman convergence. This is a marathon, Deema, and we need runners. Are you in?”

“I am. So, can you tell me how many people you’ve been able to recruit, now?”

“With you that makes 31 people across Europe, another 28 around Asia and Oceania, and 45 here in the Americas, including Canada.”

“You’ve been busy…”

“We don’t have a choice. These people have to be stopped. And because my querida is their first successful subject, they’ll keep coming for her. She’ll always be in danger as long as this threat exists. I can’t allow that, and I refuse to live like that. So, when I say that I’m truly grateful for your help, you can be certain I mean it. Thank you, Deema.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@allmyspideys @blueeyesatnight @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog @giselatropicana

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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thecrenellations · 4 years ago

Text

Return of the Thief Notes, Part One: The Book of Pheris, Volume I

Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part Two | Part Three | TaT)

Contents: "So, so, so” watch, Costis watch, swearing, trashing the king’s attendants, being objectively wrong, boundless enthusiasm and love

I promise I’ve had more developed thoughts since these often incoherent ones, but I’ve enjoyed having these notes to refer to - for sentimental reasons and for entertainment, so here they are, for others who enjoy liveblogs and/or being whisked back in time to their first read of this wonderful book.

Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)

Dedication, Table of Contents, Exordium:

There it is – to Sounis

Exordium – vocab #1

Interregnum?!? Alyta?

Pheris!!!

Yeah I love him from the first page

MOIRA

MOCKING COMMENTS HELP! Gen lives!

A new level of unreliable narrator

Moira, messages of Gods, Pheris, messages of __

Wtf is going on in this study? A zoo?

high king vs great king vs annux?

okie dokie dude

Chapter 1

1. Susa – Costis

2. Infirmity – who gets to be hero/tell story (I started reading right after the book launch, in which mwt spent some time talking about her writing influences and decisions connect to this question - Pheris isn’t her first disabled protagonist and storyteller, of course, but it was lovely to meet him properly directly after hearing her talk about it. Book launch foreshadowing part 1...)

Melisande?

Is this why he wasn’t taught to read?

3. Always the summer

Bees!

4. Hunting cat… hm…

Ok … shrine … 😬

5. Once again we start with a disaster or having to flee

Which Eugenides precipitated

Bite!

Little monster :(

6. Falling…

7. :( :( :(

His purpose? D:

8. YIKES

Chapter 2

9. Hello there! (Gen!)

Massive chair?

10. CRACKED WATER JUG (amphora motif???)

11. Triangle from seal!

Gen that’s rude to Pheris :( (“He will fit in very well with my attendants”)

Wait. This must have happened before ACoK! (nope)

12. :(

Xikander … never made an impression before

How old is Pheris? (lol)

13. Philologos come thru!

Royal closet reappears!

14. Hello weird secondhand scene!

He is Eugenides

Marina…

15. Petrus? GALEN? OH SHIT!

Is this why Galen was called? (nope)

16. Hell yea Petrus

Miras’ golden balls oh no

All these previously unnamed sucky attendants!

17. Ula – goddess of hearth and healing

Ok … Galen … or a god? Eugenides????? (why did these options occur to me before Mr. Shows Up At Your Bedside At Night himself)

18. Finally the attendant floor plans I crave + hunting scenes!

19. EXCUSE ME he slept through Sounis + Eddis wedding!!!

Again – high king!

20. So Ion is beautiful … hmm.

Yeah … Sejanus has facets. I like it.

21. Clearly no one would know what king would do … lol

Don’t mind me just sorting the attendants on a spectrum of awfulness!!!

22. SO SO SO – ION!!!!!

How many fucking attendants are there and how many are on my hit list!

Is “the necessaries” bathrooms or like … him stealing? (just the bathrooms ... the Gen-Pheris parallels were really getting to me at this point)

23. OH MY GOD THE UNIFIED CREST

Also … frogs. Frogs.

24. Big day for Gen huh

Definitely an aura of Something as he writes about Gen

25. HELLO EVERYONE

26. Sorry Kamet, Pheris does the physical descriptions better. They’re beautiful

I’m blacking out at Eddis and Sounis

27. Jesus Christ. The bear.

Cousin time!

Under the table is the new up on the roof!

Uh… twin imagery ….

Gen’s feet!

Jesus. The matching

28. Cleon … wtf? A cousin?

A trial for Sophos?

Show! Us! Sophos’s! Shoes!

29. If u throw things out the air shaft you might hit the king

Was it a chicken?

Lol nvm the guy at night is Gen. That is … very sweet

- Showing up at night

- Accent

- Complaining about Petrus

- Swearing

- One hand

I am judging Costis and Sophos for not describing the paneling in Gen’s room!

Chapter 3

30. Was it a chicken?

An earring huh, good hand huh

31. Literally screaming “NO!” at Gen. Don’t joke about dying! I am killed by Gen on annux day. This is. My boy. Yes he is perfect. Yes he will refuse to get up. I love him. I died on page 31

Philologos is still the best of them

32. Dancing bear indeed

Always the powdered gold

Ruby!!!!! <3

Aww a smile!!! <3

Pheris he likes you!

33. They both love invisibility and lost it … I cry

Erupt like the sacred mountain excuse me!

OR WORSE return to bed! Lol

34. He’s Eugenides when he’s talking to Attolia

Ouch hero talk

! from Irene!

My queen!

Hey Phresine!

They way we do <3 he’s hating it but he’s so comfortable with her

Sister and bro mention! C’mon!

I love them

EYEBROW

35. Honestly that’s a yes (“I have no idea what you mean, my queen”)

It’s so cute they hang out in the morning … like how long was it even since they’ve seen each other lol

:( tough walk for Pheris

Is it prophecy time?

Lol how long does this construction take?!

Also … she’s pregnant, huh? but no one knows (nope)

Is befriending someone weaponized as a prank count for Gen’s enemies to friends list?

Also SHOW ME the magus. I know he’s here!

36. Pheris excuse me, why not recreate this!

Lol cast off language of history indeed

Feel the thrum of the goddess!

EXCUSE ME… a minor goddess? Mystery goddess? Or Philia?

Oh Gen

37. Well, Gen, someone is having a worse day than you.

Damn, how far we come.

Aww Sounis, babe, I love you and so does Gen

[drawing of the four of them sitting in a row]

38. Artadorus???? Pomegranate?

39. HEIRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A friend! Also lol. Two smiles, for Pheris and Heiro..

40. Yesss Melheret joke in action.

Costis has left tho right?

Jesus, Melheret

SHE GAVE HIM A HORSE (I COULD NOT DEAL with this entire conversation, but then again I could not deal with this whole book.)

41. I love them all so much

“on that horse, you will look like a king” I can’t with her sense of humor

He sure did say that

I feel like I’m missing something with the fight on foot thing … remembering battles?

Helen called him Gen!

Sophos stop talking about yourself and bringing apricots into everything lol

Lol these bystanders don’t know how lucky they are. Nor does Pheris, yet

42. She’s protecting him

Also … Gen … you didn’t want to be a soldier.

43. Guards have capes

2 startled men … hm …

Oh Gen. The fucking brutal echoes…

44. :( :( :(

Gen tell your wife you’re sick!

The attendants are so dumb

45. So, so, so :(

Tell who? Petrus?

Wink!

Yes?

46. Bleeding! Salt! Lemon! Heck no! What is he, a piece of meat?

Oranges?

47. “savoring each bite as if it were my last” ... Same … but with this book

Hmm… Alyta! Goddess of the gentle rain! (despite this “hmm,” I did not put the pieces together)

48. Oh no Teleus! And someone?

Aw he realized <3 lemon water

49. Gen eat your broth lol

50. I love them.

Ion’s really trying to make up for what he did that one time

51. Without the approval of the great goddess HAHAHA

I love them. Cousin time! Growl?

Idk whether or not to be reassured, Gen.

Wow Cleon I do not like that. Also didn’t he die? (...)

Comma (“I am not, Eddis”)

Go smack him!

52. Gen I love you.

Helen I love you.

He’s so bad at self care but I love him

Chapter 4

55. love that our narrator just disappears and reappears

56. Attolia’s brother’s bedroom? Yikes. Ominous. A detail in a story we’ve already gotten, different every time <3

57. fucking attendants. 3 good ones. Medander you were beneath Costis’s notice before but I hate you. Costis didn’t have time for you or Xikos or Xikander and nor do I

58. interesting pawn talk!!!

59. <3 Pheris :(

The Gen comparisons though

:( :( :( :(

60. flamboyance <3

Cemphora bush

Bees

61. I love him

62. I love them

Also lol “Your majesty?”

63. Name … hm … (“I have deliberately omitted [my tutor’s] name here”)

64. more twin imagery I swear

WAIT … it was his birthday! Not just Annux day?!! Gen was born in late summer???

Attendant list thank you

65. laying it all out there, huh … (that one Gen quote)

Lol they’re the same but Pheris likes horses

66. Insellia! Hello nice to meet you

67. Gen that’s mean. (“He is hardly even half of one.”)

68. Coleus leves???

“I am Eugenides.” <3

Gen why

69. Gold cups???? Hmmmmm. Also lioness. Def invoking Costis. (they’re probably not the cups, but STILL)

Earth….

70. Moira! Hi!!! Rainbow shawl!

Like a rabbit!

Pester!

I’m … very sad he uses his Attolian accent with Helen

71. Aaah so good

Mortals

Moira knows another messenger?

Does he think he can’t die in battle?

72. hmm are they WRANGLING?! (Galen and Petrus and my Fire and Hemlock word association)

Kill that pastry Irene I love you

morning training with his … guard? (Is that the whole guard or a guard? Costis senses tingling once again.)

73. Oh gen.

Ouch! (“to send people to their deaths and not risk my own is contemptible”)

Is she implying he’s paying Therespides?

74. Interesting Cleon plan. So many doubles

OUCH. (“Only if he comes back from the dead.” I assumed Lader had died in the war; it’s a different ouch now. I love that they both accidentally say things to each other that poke old wounds, and it’s not a big deal but it’s also not dismissed! Their relationship has come so far, and I love them so much.)

75. Verimius – Lavia – Celia??? Somebody is queer in there!

A GUARD

This scene confuses me. Xortix? Layteres? Aris! but dice thing is less political … so maybe? (just wait....)

76. So many reasons to hate Medander

Hey Costis! You exist! KoA happened!

Gen is just … still so uncomfortable and miserable. He chose, he has people, but still.

RIP Clopius also WHAT

77. Lol Hilarion’s grand statements

78. Yorn Fordad Hello!

Luxurious mustache

The mighty Pents?

Besin Quedue – she’s coming 4 you watch out

79. RIP Baron Hippias

Chapter 5

80. Spring! Plays! Cenna!

81. Oh dear

Oh dear

At least they said he was pretty

83. ?!? :( wine

Uh oh. Stockpiling

85. What even.

AAAAAAAAAH COSTIS

86. Omg Irene. Hissing. I love her.

Also … Gen’s the viper

Also this scene was written by Pheris.

Damn.

87. oh no.

What better man

She fucking quoted Howl. I love them.

Also, bees (this scene killed me)

90. Falling?

Oh shit

Also … Juridius and Pheris, Susa and Costis (comparing demands for information)

93. oh my god (IT’S THE WINDOW SCENE)

Oh my god

94. She! Called! Him! Gen!

I love this and it scares me

Lol Chloe

Irene you learned from her though

95. D:

96. :(

97. water stuff

98. what the heck

OH NO (Quedue scene)

100. yikes

Omg

Wow.

102. yikes yikes YIKES

103. a blade has protruded from his chest (tbt to The Thief)

jesus

106. shit

Did Gen hit him?

108. lol Phresine

109. lol

I want genuinely every character’s reaction to this shit

Chapter 6

111. what the heck Gen.

112. like a god [crown doodle]

114. Perma?

116. Gen. Gen. Gen. Do not.

117. AAAA (god intervention)

122. Juridius to Dite

124. bye Iolanthe and Ileia! Tell us about Caeta and Silla.

125. did not expect so much Ion

Chapter 7

127. Fryst god of winter

She laughed!

They’re so married

128. OH SHIT (Costis ship is sighted and I remember what’s about to happen next)

Interesting timing

He rode the horse home?

131. Beauty and good, beauty and kind

134. The gods’ goodwill

Keep them safe <3

135. Is that his MOM?!! Wtf (it was!)

Pheris steal those earrings!!!

RING! SMASH BOX!

137. AMPHORA EARRINGS (and flowers)

138. I love Phresine

139. Why do I feel like all the game birds are pigeons

140. meanwhile Gen’s been hanging out with Kamet. Shit. I cannot.

WELCOME HOME BOYS!

HELL YEAH KAMET ATTEND THOSE MEETINGS!

RELIUS COME THRU

141. lethium soup! The reversal

Safe for you

142. of course he knew <3

143. Kamet time! I love him. We get to see Kamet!!!

Also … echo of Gen’s notes on Mede

145. very handsome. … gaycostis vindication (referring to @costis’s url at the time and this post. Little did I know what else was to come in the next chapter and then a few months later with the adaptation news...)

Do you know who I am?

Chapter 8

147. Of course he’s a cartographer

A favorite huh

148. of course she didn’t tell us his age!

149. the angsty window staring I crave

Music!

151. adventure, huh

I do have a soft spot for Melheret

152. concerned about amphora gift

153. Glad they can be well and united in spite!! (Gen and Melheret)

154. Pheris loves math and I love him

155. Hello Teleus. Hello olives

Lol Relius is not into math

156. pigeons. Inkpot!

157. yeah honestly. He tortures people. He was NOT tortured by the king

159. lol (“I have noted the elective nature of certain behaviors” ... I love Relius and Pheris.)

160. The Invitation! I <3 it

161. EXCUSE ME WHO

Legarus!

FOLKS HERE WE ARE (I cannot overstate how wonderful it was to read this page. I did not know who the poem was from, and “Someone loves me very much, even with all my faults” is even sweeter to reread, but it’s just ... his confidence is so different from the tentative consideration of a new philosophy of trust and love we see in KoA. And there is subtextual queerness in the books before this one, some more apparent and some more subtle (and what is obvious to one reader may be subtle or invisible to another, in these books especially), and there is the attendant love triangle a few chapters back, but HERE - here, Pheris acknowledges the real feeling and love in Legarus’s disastrous relationship and tells us directly that his lover was a man, here he seamlessly makes it clear how bi and poly Relius is, and he quietly ties these relationships and realities to his growing understanding of the world. It’s not subtext. And there’s a lot more to come, but this page really hit me, and sort of promised the “more to come” while assuring me that what had come before, more subtly, was there. I used to have heteronormative readings of both these books and myself, and when Thick as Thieves brought them crashing back into my heart after years away, I knew better about myself, and I saw that - or the possibility of that reading - reflected in the new book, and it was such a good surprise. It meant a lot, and this page meant a lot, and that is why I’m writing a small essay to accompany this note.)

Lol wow

162. Where are you traveling, man (this question remains)

163. Fuck you, Orutus

164. Stole an inkpot!

165. the map!!! (Kamet’s)

166. I love them!

167. The Math Master hmm

Am I an oracle (Nope! :) )

#there is SOME context #and some rambling #but i'm sure some of it doesn't make sense so i'm very up for explaining anything #return of the thief #the queen's thief #mwt #something i #rott spoilers #return of the thief spoilers

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scary-lasagna · 5 years ago

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Slender-Sitter

An idea I got at 2am one night.

A different take on the Slender Brothers (and Mama Slender!).I probably won’t follow up on it, but if you guys want one I’ll be happy to write it.

* * *

You weren't quite sure what happened. One moment you were eating shitty off-brand cornflakes, and the next moment there was a machete to your throat. "You're coming with me, and if I hear a peep outta ya, I'll slit your God Damn throat. Got it?" What else could you have done besides nod? To be fair, the walk through the forest with this masked man was awkward as all can be. You tried asking his name for small talk, to which he replied by throwing a rusty knife past your ear. Maybe he was an introvert. The sun was starting to rise now, and you realized you didn't want to die on a cold spring morning with your socks soaked through with dew. But it as too late now, because the ivory and shadow colored manor slowly appeared into view. You didn't know where the Hell you were, and there was no way this was a half an hour walk from your house. The masked man walked past you instead of following in your shadow, grabbing your arm and dragging you toward the mahogany double doors. He pulled the heavy knocker three times. It was so loud, that the sound disturbed a flock of birds resting in the circle of trees surrounding the building. There were a few clicks and shutters behind the door before it peeled open, revealing a quite tall, pale woman. Her height wasn't even the intimidating part, it was the fact that she didn't even have a face. "Hello, sweetheart. You can call me Mother." She outstretched a thin hand, which you hesitantly took to shake. "I hope Deliberate didn't cause you too much trouble." She nodded towards the masked man beside you. "I would've sent someone more qualified in choosing a baby sitter, but all of my other proxies were busy." You shook your head to clear your thoughts when she turned to lead you into her home, "B-Babysitter?" You stuttered, being nudged in by the rude 'proxy'. "Mhm! I'm heading out today for some errands, and I needed someone to look after my children." She bent down, extending her slender arms to pick up one of the said children. "Mostly this one." She planted what sounded like a kiss on his forehead before turning and outstretching the child to you. The baby was fucking adorable, in honesty. With a wide grin and sparkling black eyes, it almost looked normal despite the black took over the whites of his eyes. “Y-You want me," You pointed at yourself," A complete stranger to hold your pride and joy, none the less a living child?" It seemed kind of absurd. "Honey, don't make me not like you." Her tone fell flat, causing you to remember your situation and quickly scooping the baby onto your hip. "Oh good! He already likes you!" Her hands clasped together, "I'll go get my other boys." Oh, Christ, they're all boys. You felt a little awkward waiting with this dude who looks like he wants to kill you at any second, and with this baby who won't stop staring. You looked down, watching as his eyes lit up and that previous grin taking place on his chubby cheeks again following by a gurgling laugh. You couldn't help but return the smile. His pudgy hands reached up, one grasping at your shirt and the other pinching your cheek. "The one in your arms is Splendor." The woman approached again, this time carrying another child. Two were following in her footsteps, obviously older than the infant and toddler. "This one is Trender, and these two are my oldest, Slender and Offender." She nodded at each respectively. None of them really sported any facial features besides this Offender kid. He had a toothy grin that just made him look like he was up to something. You can already tell he'll cause some trouble. She huffed and set the toddler down, who waddled over to his older siblings. "Now, I'm going to be gone until 10:30 tonight. Feel free to explore around the house, eat the food, honestly...I don't care what you do." She shrugged with a sigh. "Just keep them occupied, and if the house isn't burned down by the time I get back, I'll give you a pretty penny for your efforts." There was a rustle behind you and Deliberate brushed the fur coat against you as he walked past to help Mother put it on. "If you need help Slender will know what to do." She glanced your way before walking towards her children, saying an individual goodbye to each one. She approached you, letting Splendor grasp onto her finger as she looked at you. Her voice lowered out of earshot for the older boys. "If I come back and either a, you are not here, or b, any of my boys have as little as a scratch on them, I will find you, I will break all of your bones, rip them out of our body and use them for home decor." She paused, letting the emphasis sink in. You nodded slowly as Slendor chimed in with a laugh. "Isn't that right baby boy!~" She cooed at the infant, kissing him on the cheek. He pressed saliva covered lips to her thin cheek in return. She straightened up to her full height, placing a hand on your shoulder. "10:30, 15 hours. Do not screw up." She struts past you, Deliberate sparing a glare as he followed her out. The door slammed behind them, leaving you alone with these little shits.

Staring at the mahogany wood, you tried to think of a plan for the day. "So..." You turned away from the door, looking at the three- wait one was missing. Your eyes widened in panic as you glanced around. "Offender went to raid the fridge." The tallest one said, despite not even having a mouth. Not that it surprised you, considering their mother is the most abnormal creature you've seen in your life. "Right." You nodded, glancing across the large lobby of the manor towards a set of doors with 'Kitchen' carved into a plaque above them. "Slender, right?" You looked at the eldest, who responded with a nod. "Okay, you're going to have to help me, because I don't do children, and they don't like me either." You paused, looking down at Trender who has decided to latch on to your jeans. "Small ones, at least." You added as the kitchen door swung open, revealing a walking pile of ramen noodle boxes. "Can you fix these Miss Human?" You could see a pair of legs poking out from under the boxes. "Not all of them, and not now. You guys aren't having ramen for breakfast." You paced towards the second eldest, grasping a box from the top so the kid can see, "And I have a name, squirt." You said, pushing the door open to the kitchen with your shoulder. "Have you guys eaten?" "No." “Yes." "Yes." "Will you guys shut up? You want extra pancakes or not?" Offender set the boxes down by the large dining table with a grumble. "Trender only knows the word 'yes', Offender." Meanwhile, you struggled to get Spenldor in his high chair, who kept spreading his chubby legs so they wouldn't go through the leg holes. For a little baby, he was putting a hell of a strain on your arm. You had to quite literally peel Trender off and set him on your leg to see over the table you sat at. "Aight, we're gonna have a talk to set a schedule for the day." You secured an arm around the toddler's torso. "You should just let us watch t.v. all day, nothing can go wrong then." Offender shrugged. "You're gonna be a shit eater aren't you?" "Yeah, that's what mom says." He grinned. "Try not to curse too much Trender is learning words." Slender chimed in. "My name is [Y/n], by the way. You can call me that." You paused as they awkwardly just nodded in response. Splendor managed to learn how to eat his own foot for the time being. "How old are you guys?" You glanced between the four. Offender opened his mouth as if to speak, but Slender beat him to it. "In Ender years, I'm 11, Offender is 7, Trender is 3, and Splendor is 1." "Ender years..." You whispered. "Should I ask what that is for humans?" "No." "We're not allowed." "Yes." "Okay, whatever. You two watch t.v. or whatever, I'm gonna see what I can do with these two." You glanced between Splendor and Trender, who was neck grasping onto the chain of your necklace. "There's a schedule mom made on the fridge for Sun." You huffed and stood, struggling to hold Trender on your hip due to the contrast in size between him and Splendor. "Who's Sun?" You shifted your weight on one hip as you looked over the schedule. "One of mom's proxies," Slender answered. As you looked over the schedule, there were really some peculiar things that stood out to you. "You guys have a library?" You glanced over your shoulder to find Offender was gone and Slender was picking up Splendor to accompany you by the fridge. "Yeah, we go in there to do school work. We have lessons today." He mentioned., pacing over with a squirming piece of chub. "Outdoor play, 1:00." You mumbled, running a finger down the list. "Don't let Offender outside, he'll throw a ball through the window to get you in trouble. Mom's catching on though, so it's a 50-50 chance." "...Thanks." You sighed, turning. "I take it you do most of the work with your brothers?" You lead him out of the kitchen and held the door for him. "Yeah, mostly." He mumbled, shifting Splendor on his side. You paused, seeing the sight of the lobby and wondering how in the hell Offender managed to make this much of a mess in the span of 3 minutes. Toys were scattered, the table in the middle was knocked over, the rug was twisted in all kinds of directions, not to mention the articles of clothing on top of the chandelier. Trender gripped onto your shirt and neck, burying his head into your chest. Your brows furrowed as you rubbed his back. "He gets upset when mom yells at Offender." "Does she do it often?" "Have you met him?" "Right." You glanced around at the harsh sight. "Let's find your brother, then."

#Slender #Slender proxy #slenderman #mama slender #splendor #trender #trenderman #Splendorman #slender brother #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine #creepypasta blog

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queensdivas · 4 years ago

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For Gods Sake Chapter 1

What? I’m doing what?

WHAT! WHAT JUST HAPPENED!

Ladies and Gents. Welcome to the new version of Eugene Sledge. Don’t worry it’s the same storyline, characters, and everything else. I just read through and thought to myself. “I could do better. You guys deserve so much better.” So I’m giving you guys the best you deserve. (Maybe 39′ will get a rewrite? Maybe?)

But anyway y’all know the drill at this point. If you’d like to be tagged please let me know. And I’ll see you guys later!

Masterlist

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace.

In the Pacific….

December 1942.

The broadcast played about a year ago now. Sometimes I can still hear that broadcast whenever I think about what’s going on out in the Pacific. We sat around the radio in absolute hush waiting for what Franklin Roosevelt would say.

Then War was declared.

I’d hate to say this but I was grateful Eugene wasn’t able to run off with Sidney to keep him from the black cloak of death.

Now a year late he’s now galavanting off to the ocean...and my world feels so cold now that he’s leaving tomorrow. And there’s a major possibility that I won’t ever see him again.

Sitting here on my favorite swing just felt freezing and this hallowed ground was no longer as beautiful after today. A small gust of wind was blowing to make the swing go back and forth only a little bit. My index finger began tracing the stitched pattern in my shaw I had draped over my legs. I could feel my throat beginning to swell, legs shaking, and those horrid tears beginning to form to the point my vision had become blurry.

The winter wind began picking up a little more as my wild hair began blowing in front of my face. My finger that was tracing the shaw was now opening my mother's bible. My religion goes back and forth some days. Now I feel that God is just playing some cruel joke so that I might suffer. There was always one verse that got me through the dark times since it was what my mother and father would live by when they would get angry with one another.

First Corinthians Chapter Thirteen verses four through eight.

“Love is patient..love is kind…” My lower lip began to tremble a little. No. No time for tears quite yet. Letting out a big breath to sit up a little better than before/

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no rec…

“It keeps no record of wrongs.” Gene chimed in as he stood behind me. His body was emitting heat that made me smile a little bit.

“Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails..” He walked in front of me to kneel down infront of me, taking my bible out of my hands then holding them.

“Marty. No matter how far I am away from you…” No no no. I don’t want some speech right now. I put my bible down on the ground as I tried not to weep before him.

“I don’t need a speech Gene.” My shawl fell off as I got up from the swing, dragging myself a few feet away from him to watch the sun creep over the tree line.

“Eugene..” Saying his full name feels like I’m punishing him for doing what must be done.

“You know as well as I do there are only a few selective people who I truly love with my entire heart. You being the most important love of my life.” He got up from the wet field grass to make his way over towards me.

“Yet the more I read and hear of this world through the papers and radio broadcast. My heart begins to freeze over like frost. Eventually it thaws out and I continue on through my life. However. I’m fearful of what will happen if you do not return from wherever you shall be sent. My heart that was once yours will turn into black ice, never to return to that warmth it once had.” It feels so wrong to say this, but what if he doesn’t come back? What if he’s shot down over there, never coming home to his family, his little dog, and Sid if he makes it?

“I don’t want you to promise me that you’ll come back Eugene. That is a promise that should never be even uttered from one's mouth. It’s false and brings no comfort.” I reached down for his hands to hold them up to me as he moved closer to my stance. His head rested on the top of my forehead as I placed his hands under my chin.

“But promise me you’ll never give up while you’re over there. You’ll never freeze..and you don’t give up. Even if things are looking grim and disgusting. You keep going Gene and never ever stop.” Screwing my eyes shut as I forced myself to stop running my mouth. I had to stop..I told him I don’t want a speech yet here I am preaching to him. His last day here shouldn’t be filled with sorrow and regrets.

“I’m sorry. Here I am telling you not to give me a speech and now I’m blabbering my mouth.” I began holding myself for him to come behind me and wrap himself around me.

“Marty. You’re doing what you do best as always.” Chucking at him as he placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

“That sarcasm you rarely use is going to be handy when you’re out there.” Another kiss for him to move in front of me. He cupped my face to lean in for a very long kiss. My arms wrapped around his neck for the warmth of his body to make me feel a little less sad.

“I won’t ever give up Marty. I will press on till I can’t take it anymore. I have something to come back to so why would I give up?” He moved a little for me to get out of the embrace but kept a hold of my hands. My eyes were closed as Gene let go of one of my hands as I opened my eyes.

“What are you doing?” Asking him to watch him humble around in his jacket pocket.

“Now I have an official reason to come back home. This will keep me on my toes for when I’m on the battlefield.” An official reason? Gene fished something out of his back pocket to then get down on one knee before me. Oh my goodness

“Margaret Violet Ingles. When I return home whenever that will be, will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Margaret Violet Sledge.” I don’t even have the words to express that my heart was bursting through my chest. No seriously it sort of hurts from the vast amount of emotions that has been happening in the span of ten minutes.

“Are...are you sure.” Joining him on the morning dew as my knees were already becoming soaked.

“Maragret you’re the most important person in my life and no war is going to keep me from coming back to you. I’ve wanted to marry you ever since we first started dating. I love you and if I don’t make it back..you..you’re..” He opened the box to look at the ring but shrugged.

“I know it’s not grand or anything..but please? Will you become Mrs. Sledge when I return home?”

“Oh Gene I could care less if it was a piece of wheat that was made out of glue. Yes Yes yes! A thousand times yes!” The ring had a small peridot diamond with two smaller diamonds on both sides, the band was gold and looked a little older. We embraced each other again as we couldn’t stop kissing and hugging each other.

About two to three Palm Warblers we’re the only thing that was making any sort of sound at that moment. The wind was silent, no dogs were barking, and no woodpecker making its new home. Our feet were soaked from the morning dew and we were chilly from the cold air of winter. But we didn’t care. The ring was still in the small velvet box as we continued our kissing with our hands running all over each other's body.

We stopped for a moment as I began picturing our life after the war. Him and I finishing up school, our own little house outside the city with his dog and him playing constantly. We’re young. We don’t have the time for kids yet so we’ll get down that road in the later future once school is done and we have stable careers. Him being some sort of wildlife genius while I am a simple grade school teacher.

“I love the idea of being called Mrs. Sledge. Mrs. Marty Sledge. It has a lovely ring to it doesn’t it?” He scooped me back up into his arms. Our lips smashed against each other as he attempted to spin me around. He lost his footing as we accidentally fell to the ground in laughter. He crawled on top of me as he reached for the velvet box, we sat up in front of each other as we both stared down at the box.

“Well put it on Gene.” I held up my left hand as he slipped the ring on. My first piece of jewelry that I don’t plan on losing or ever taking off.

“It’s perfect.” I exclaimed as I pulled his head closer so I could kiss him. My lips pecked his nose. I couldn’t stop staring or even playing with it.

“Why wait till we get back?” He asked as he pulled me into his lap.

“You mean now? Don’t you want some big party or the big? Don’t you want to wait for Sid? He would wait for you wouldn’t he?” I think he would like to wait for Sid? I know he was planning on asking Mary Anne a few days before what happened in Pearl Harbor but well, ya know.

“Marty. All I need is you. When I come back we can throw a huge wedding, a six layer cake, and whatever else you want.” Bold of him to assume I need any form of big cake in order to celebrate.

“All I need is you, a pair of heels, and some wild flowers. Who says we need some big wedding anyhow. And what would I do with a six layer cake?” He nodded as I climbed off his lap to help him up. Oh my gosh I’m getting married! Oh my gosh I’m getting married and I have absolutely nothing to wear! Last nice dress I had doesn’t even fit anymore! Wait! In the back of the closest is my petal pink dress!

“Meet me at the courthouse around one, that gives us time to get ready and I can pull a few strings for it to happen today. We can get bands later if anything we get sized and I mail it to ya once it’s ready. This is going to work!” I cheered as I was going to walk over to the swing for my shoes, books, and everything else.

The two of us ran through the small patch of woods to see where both of our bikes were still parked. Okay good. Glad to know he doesn’t have to ride me all the way to his house, then my house, and the court. The bride still needs to surprise the groom even if it’s something he’s seen her wear before.

“Tonight my family has a big dinner planned for me, why not invite yours over so we can break the news to them. I imagine they should know their kids got hitched right before I left.” He’s made a very good point. I imagine father would be mighty angry if I didn’t tell him Eugene and I got married.

“Okay. I'll see you in a little bit.” We picked our bikes, snuck a quick kiss then began riding off in different directions. I can’t believe it! We’re getting married in under twenty four hours! More like under five hours even!

1:15 pm. Steps of the Mobile County Probate Court.

For once she’s late? She’s always on time. Did she decide not to show up? I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Who would wanna get married to someone who's about to ship off and might not return?

I walked back and forth in front of the steps on the bottom of the steps of the courthouse. She’s not going to show up. I’m going to take a shot in the dark that Marty decided to stay home and wonder why she decided to marry me. Look at me. I thought it was a great idea to elope before I ship out, and I know she want’s a big wedding. Look at me! All I’m wearing is an old suit that luckily still fits. I bet she’ll come up looking like an Angel.

Yet..yet here I am.

Was this a bad idea?

“You okay?” She stood before me all dolled up.

“Oh your tie.” What’s wrong with my tie? Right. Her dads a tailor so I imagine she’s seeing it uneven by one degree.

“A little more to the left.” She began fixing my tie as I watched her with a soft smile. Why is she so adorable?

“How did your father let you out of the house with such a bad tie job? Head up a little please.”

“Yes Mrs. Tailor.” I chuckled for her to finish up fixing my tie. I imagine it was one degree to the left which made her go absolutely nuts. Still love her though of course.

“Just because my father taught me a thing or two on suits and ties, doesn’t make me a Tailor Gene. Wait. Could mom not get that stain out from that nasty meatloaf from Savannah?” Looking down to wet my thumb and rub on it.

“Are you going to pick apart my suit or are we going to get married?” Give her a cup of coffee and she’ll be basically fixing my entire ensemble.

“Actually yes Gene. I just noticed that your shoulders are a little more loose.” My expression turned blank that caused her to start laughing a little bit.

“Oh! I brought us something!” She exclaimed to start digging in her small handbag.

“On the way back home I realized that we can’t get married without some sort of band so I did some digging around. Turns out in the deepest part of the attic was an old jewelry box and in that box were these. Now I know it’s not some sort of beautiful band yet but it’s something temporary and if you lose it overseas then no harm done.” Pulling out two spoon rings from the handbag and placed one of them in my hand.

“How old is this?” I asked her as it looked very old but still in great condition.

“No idea. But it’s definitely going to get the job done for now.” We were beginning to walk into the courthouse but she stopped by the flowers to pick a few Camellias for some sort of bouquet.

Dad being an in house doctor allows me to have a few strings to pull in high places. Judge Tucker Burdett is an old friend of ours which means he can just take us up front without any questions. Just have to skim through a lot of paperwork and then get the ceremony on the way.

After finishing the paperwork we made our way to the small courtroom where the ceremonies are usually held. This is it..and I’m extremely nervous and I can tell she’s nervous as well. She keeps tapping her left foot when we’re standing and is fidgeting with her bouquet.

“You ready?” I asked her while we molded our hands together.

“Yes. I am.” Smiling at one another for us to open the door into the courtroom. Judge Tucker got behind the stand as we approached him with such large happy faces.

“Good Morning Eugene. Wasn’t expecting a call like this today.” He commented as we stood in front of the stand.

“Well I’m shipping out tomorrow and wanted to tie the knot before I leave.”

“Congratulations Eugene. You’ll make one hell of a soldier.” He put on his glasses as we both we’re waiting for him to begin. A few witnesses came into the room as the judge finished his paper work then folded his hands on the podium. Once the door closed he smiled at us as he cleared his throat.

“Let’s start. Today you two entered my court as individuals, and you will be leaving as a very happy husband and wife. Though a war has started, we must remember to be human in these times and not to forget our loved ones. May I assume you’re leaving for The Pacific tomorrow?” The priest asked as I felt Marty squeeze my hand a little bit. Guess the thought still makes her feel uneasy. My thumb began rubbing her hand in hopes of making her feel less worried.

“Yes sir.” Tomorrow….tomorrow.

“Best of luck to ya son and let’s not waste anymore of your time. Today we are going to the wedding Eugene Bondurant Sledge and Margaret Violet Ingles. I ask you two to remember to always love each other, give each other the utmost respect, and always cherish the small deeds you do for one another. Because all small things mean more than big gestures. Take responsibility for making sure you’re both happy, safe, and always be sympathetic towards each other. But when life, frustration, and difficulty enters into your relationship as it always does, always remember to focus on what benefits and is right for you two. Being married. It’s teamwork and if one of you is going to give up, then you both lose. But if you work together, you can survive the times when the hurricane comes busting through the house.” We looked at each other the entire time Tucker was making his invocation. If we can make it through a war together, then absolutely no one or nothing can break this vow.

“Now you two face each other and I can hold your flowers. We’ll try to make this quick because I can imagine you two have much to be done before he leaves. We will do both the ring and vows at the same time. Mr. Eugene, will you please repeat after me.” Marty handed him the flowers as we dug out the spoon rings.

“Spoon rings? Y’all really doin’ this last second aren’t ya?” Just a little. Just a little last second.

“Sorry, your honor.” We both apologized to him as he shrugged and put his glasses back on.

“No no don’t apologize. I imagine you’ll get something a little more official when he gets back. Now repeat after me.” That’s the plan hopefully.

“I, Eugene, take you to be my wife, my one true love in my life. I will adore our new union and while I’m away wherever that will be, I will trust you and give you all my respect to you. Once I get home we will laugh, cry, scream, and laugh some more together. I promise to love you faithfully through those moments regardless of what barrier tries to stop us. I give you my hand, heart, and my love from this day forward for as long as we both shall live. With this ring. I pledge to honor, respect, and love you even after my last breath leaves my body.” Holding up her hands to place the ring on her hand. After placing the ring on I rose her hand up to place a soft kiss on it.

“And now you Margaret.” She let out a deep breath so that she wouldn’t start crying again.

“I Margaret take you to be my husband, my one true love in my life. I will adore our new union no matter how far away you go to war. I will trust you and give you all my respect to you. Once you get home we will laugh, cry, scream, and laugh some more together. I promise to love you faithfully through those moments regardless of what barrier tries to stop us. I give you my hand, heart, and my life from this day forward for as long as we both shall live. With this ring. I pledge to honor, respect, and love you even after my last breath leaves my body.” The ring was placed on my finger as the urge to kiss each other was growing again.

“Well by the power invested in me by the State of Alabama. I pronounce you Husband and Wife.” Kind of jumped the gun but oh well! Marty jumped on me as rice was beginning to be thrown at us which made us stop kissing and begin laughing.

“Mrs. Margaret Sledge.” I think she was more excited for the name change than the ceremony itself.

“Mrs. Margaret Sledge. That’s going to look lovely on everything from now until the end of time.” Everyone began clearing the room except for Marty and I who began kissing each other again. My arms wrapped around his neck as his soft lips were sending me into complete ecstasy. The love of my life is now with me for an eternity!

“Hey newlyweds. I have another couple that wants to get married.” We stopped as we noticed two heads poking into the courtroom as we chuckled to start leaving the room.

7:00 pm. The Home of Eugene Sledge.

Eugene had to go home after the ceremony in order to keep things between us in the black until we announced it tonight. Besides I had to make arrangements with Constance in order to have her place for tonight. She’s letting us have her apartment for the night to spend the last few hours before she ships out and I’m extremely grateful for that.

Our car turned right as we’re getting closer to his home as everyone except myself was extremely excited for dinner. I on the other hand is extremely nervous due to the fact that I have no clue on how dad will react about what happened earlier today.

“Did we bring anything anyhow?” I asked dad as I began searching around the front seat of the car.

“Lainey put together pecan bread quickly this afternoon while you were off doing God knows what with Eugene.” Is getting married such a bad thing? I sure don’t think so. I turned myself around to see Lainey and Barden in the back seat. Lainey was reading some sort of book while Barden was playing around with his toy airplanes. Barden looked up at me then leaned up in his seat, he looked a little nervous and was about to ask me something.

“Hey Marty. Do you think Eugene would get me something from Japan?” Barden asked me as we began driving down the main road to their home.

“Maybe. You’d have to ask him if he can.” He nodded to go back to playing with his airplane.

“Do you think he’ll have some sort of strapping uniform like those men in the movies? I recently saw a picture that had William Tracey in a military uniform and he looked so dashing!” Lainey Cabot-Ingles is an adopted sister of mine. Her parents were killed by the white hoods when she was only a toddler and was an employee of my dads. Since no other family members were around or able to get into contact, we adopted her.

“I imagine Lainey he’ll be dropped in nothing but mud and water to care about his uniform. Besides they only wear those uniforms for formal events.” Father told him as he parked the car in front of their house as we began unbuckling our seatbelts. Father was the first one out as he opened the door for Barden as I opened the door for Lainey with her pecan bread in her hands.

“You two better not make Eugene go through an interview tonight about his military career. If anything a soldier doesn’t like is to be bombarded with questions. Also Marty. Don’t try to rope him into any form of engagement.” My throat closed as the horror of what is about to be announced tonight. Too late Father! Lainey and Barden stood in front of us until the door opened.

“Ah Mr. Ingles. They’re in the living room reading the paper.” They told us as Lainey was the first one in with Barden following behind. Father and I walked in as we took off our coats then hung them on the rack.

“Josiah!” Eugene’s father came out of the living room along with his mother and my hubby himself.

“Ed! And there is the man of the hour Eugene!” Gene couldn’t keep his eyes off me even with my father almost tackling him. But he slipped past him to sneak his way over to me but not giving me a hello kiss or anything. Though I wish he would sweep me off my feet and for a big sloppy kiss, rather not spoil the surprise.

“Dinner is actually ready if you would like to start eating now?” His mother asked us as Barden looked up at her.

“If father says no I want to eat.” Barden told her which made her laugh a little. Everyone began entering the dining room except for Gene and I who stood in the hallway as we gave each other a kiss. Just a quick one because a certain friend by the name of Mary Anne has lent us her apartment for the night so Gene and I can..consummate the marriage.

“So what time are we meeting at the apartment?” Gene asked as we backed into the wall against the stairs.

“Around 10. I imagine we’ll be done here around nine so that gives us a good amount of time to meet there. What time do you leave tomorrow?”

“I’m due at the station around 11. I imagine mother and father want to be there as well or at least drive me to the station.” I felt like a giddy little school girl for this moment.

“Are you two planning on joining us for dinner or sneaking around?” His mother stuck her head out in the hallway.

“Sorry mother.” He grabbed my hand as he placed a soft kiss on it.

We walked into the dinning room where there were two chairs next to each other as Gene helped me sit into mine. He sat to my right as he reached over to hold my left hand. His thumb was rubbing my hand a little bit as the servants began bringing out food.

“Is that Fried Pork skin?” Father commented on the bowl of fried pork skins that we’re laid before him.

“This was Eugene’s favorite food as a kid. And if I remember Margaret over there would steal some whenever we would serve it for lunch.” I sadly do not remember those moments of my life, yet that doesn’t surprise me. I think most of the beginning of our friendship has been him and I am doing something stupid. Typical right?

“So what will you be doing in bootcamp?” Father asked as I took a bite of my food.

“I’m going to be a part of the mortar squad according to my recruiter.” He took a bite as my father and Gene's father began talking amongst themselves.

“How was Sid's family when you saw them?” I asked him quiet enough so his mother or Lainey wouldn’t butt in.

“They were happy for me. Hoping that I would rope Sid into married life.” He took a drink of his water as one of the servants began pouring the wine for the main course. I mean it smells delicious from the kitchen as I took a quick sip of my wine.

“Hey Eugene?” Lainey asked as he leaned over to her. She swallowed her food as she moved her chair closer to him.

Lainey motioned him down to her level where she whispered something to him. I looked over to Barden who was a little embarrassed and tried to keep to himself with his food. Gene nodded as Barden kept his sight down on his food. Gene whispered something into her ear, then proceeded to pass the news which made him smile. Gene winked over to him as I leaned over to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“Eugene and Marty. Should I assume that once he gets back you two will be tying the knot?” His mother asked us. It’s a little too late for tying that knot as of around 2 o’clock it already happened. We looked at each other to begin our mental conversation of if we should let them know right now. Gene stood up in his chair which made his father and mine drop their conversation to pay attention to what was about to happen.

“Well actually...” He looked down who was about to hold my hand but was interrupted.

“Mam!” A servant came out to whisper something to her which made her jump from her chair then into the kitchen.

“Wait till your mother comes back.” His father told us as Eugene sat back down and we just stared at our food waiting for her to come out. She was much more relaxed coming out of the kitchen for him to stand right back up.

“So sorry Eugene. Please continue.” She sat back down as everyone stared at Eugene just eager to hear the news.

“As of 2:00 pm today.”

“Maybe it’ll taste better with red peppers.” His mother left again as Eugene shook his head. Now I just kind of want to tell them out loud.

“Mother.” She ran off again as he was getting a little agitated. We’re really just trying to rip off this band aid but she won’t let us. Once she came back into the dining room, she sat back down with her hands folded together.

“So we thought about it and well..”

“Mam the dessert.” Oh my goodness I think i’m going to just scream!

“I’m sorry Eugene, just tell your father.”

“Marty and I got married this afternoon.” Father spat out his water as his mom stopped dead in her tracks.

“We went to the courthouse and got married. Then as soon as I get home we will plan everything else.” I grabbed my glass of wine to take a quick sip. I’m preparing myself for my father to come across the table and strangle him.

The entire table went dead silent as we tried to figure out how this was going to go down exactly. I can’t tell if his mother is going to either scream in joy or tear him to shreds. My eyes darted over to my father who took a large gulp of his water with his father doing the same thing.

“Wait. So does that mean I have a big brother?” Barden got out of his seat to walk over to Gene then stood right next to him.

“Marge. Will you please take Lainey and Barden into the other room for a few moments.” My father asked Marge as she nodded. Gene and I held each other's hands as we waited for the wrath of our parents that was about to explode in our face.

“It’s not that we didn’t expect you two not to get married.” Father started first.

“But why before he left? Do you have any idea what could happen if..” His father didn’t even finish his sentence. His mother touched his hand for him to pull himself back together.

“We’re aware of what we did earlier today. Trust me. Once I get back, I go into school, she’ll be almost done with her teaching degree and we’ll be golden.” What if he doesn’t come back? What if we just got married and he ends up going to some kind of work camp and is murdered!? Did I just marry a dead man!? I grabbed my wine to take a quick sip to calm my nerves a little more.

“Marty are you prepared for what might happen?” More than most.

“Yes. I understand what could happen and I’m more prepared than most.” I’m not an idiot. I’m perfectly aware of what could happen. Even after he returns home, things will definitely be different for the both of us. It’s called embracing change.

“It’s not that we’re happy for you two because we expected the engagement from helping Eugene here with the attic.” I get this sinking feeling in my gut that no matter what we say, they’re still angry or completely ignoring the fact that he is going off to war tomorrow and I will probably never see him again in my life!

“Why are we even debating over this? Our kids are married!” Thank you father for stepping in from this disaster.

“When you get back Eugene. We’ll give you a proper wedding with everything you need. You and I will start planning Marty! We can have your father custom the suit!” The three of them began going off on their own world as I was the first to sneak off from the dining room. I threw my coat onto my shoulders. Gene was next as he threw on his coat for us to head over to Mary Ann’s place.

Once we made it outside. His bike was on the side of the house. He sat down on the seat as I climbed in front of him. I got a little more comfortable on the bar as I threw my arms into my coat sleeves. He began peddling down the road way as we heard the front door bursting open with someone screaming for us to come back.

Whatever happens this next year. I know that my last night with my beloved husband and best friend will be cherished till the day I die.

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thisisthepartwhereyou · 5 years ago

Text

BEASTARS MINI-STORY #5: “Everybody Play the Game pt. 5” (FIN) by JCL

---

Haru, Legosi and the 701s are standing on the street outside of Yanni's, with Yanni himself talking to them with a nervous look.

TEXT BOX: We were asked to leave after that, despite the fact that we didn't start the fight. We were also asked not to come back.

In the background we see that Mizuchi, Melissa and Mica are still stuck between the door and the wall, while two repairmen are working on unscrewing the hinges.

TEXT BOX: We didn't really protest much, for we had already been there for quite a bit, and after all that, we just felt tired of playing games. ---

Later, we see that the group are now travelling by tram-train. There are not many other travelers in the wagon, so they have proceeded to take up six seats alongside the windows. Through the city we can see the city pass by.

MIGUNO: "Damn that was intense...!"

Durham gives Legosi an impressed look.

DURHAM: "Yeah, when you turned up, I swear one of those girls must've pissed themselves! Man, even I was scared by the threatening aura you were giving off!"

Legosi looks like he does not see that as a good thing.

LEGOSI: "...!"

The coyote then looks down at Haru (who is sitting between Collot and Legosi) and makes a boxing motion into the air.

DURHAM: "And you, you slapped the fur outta that girl's face!"

HARU: "Yeah, well, I didn't like what she was saying..."

Collot, who is sitting next to Haru, gives her an approving little pat on the back, which almost makes her fall forward.

COLLOT: "You were totes badass, babe."

She sweat drops at this, while Legosi, who is sitting on Haru's other side, gives the sheep hound a look of disapproval.

LEGOSI: "Oi, you're gonna make fall out of her seat."

Voss, who is sitting next to Collot, follows up with his own impressed words.

VOSS: "I was aroused!"

Jack shakes his head at Voss inappropriate behavior.

JACK: "Class Voss, class...!"

HARU: "M-hm..."

The boys quiet down and look at Haru sideways from their seats. They notice that she is looking kind of depressed. Legosi watches her with a concerned expression.

LEGOSI: "Haru, are you alright?"

Haru's right ear twitches a little.

HARU: "Yes... Well, not really. It's just... One would think I'd be happier to hand it to those girls. I mean, hitting her felt really-really good. But now I just feel bad about it."

MIGUNO: "Why? They were the ones who started trippin'!"

HARU: "Yes... But just so you know, she was right about something: I did sleep around when was in Cherryton, and I did break a lot of relationships."

This seems to surprise the 701s a bit. Legosi stare at Haru as she continues to talk.

HARU: "I couldn't help but to think of that thing about karma, where it comes back to bite you at the most unexpected of times. Feels like that fits in pretty well here. After all, I was the succubus of the gardening club, who devoured young males and then spit them back out by choice... Sounds like a solid case of cause and consequence to me."

Jack blinks. He looks regretful for bringing up karma, now that it appears to be a source of sadness for Haru.

LEGOSI: "You were more than that!"

Legosi stands up, surprising the group. He looks upset.

LEGOSI: "If they really would have loved each other, they would have stayed with them or at least talked their problems out. Blaming you rather than their own issues is not right! It's petty!"

Haru blinks and gives Legosi a patient look.

HARU: "Legosi... That's not how it works. The first thing a girl thinks of when she finds out that her boyfriend is messing around is herself. She asks: 'what did I do wrong' or 'what makes this girl better than me'?"

The tram then passes through a tunnel; the city outside disappears. It goes darker in the tram, the remaining light coming from the electric lights above the walkway. A shadow goes over Haru's face.

HARU: "That's why it's easier to imagine this 'other girl' being the one at fault, because an external problem is always easier to deal with. It can be pushed around. It doesn't make you question yourself. It's never your fault if there's a villain to deal with."

Legosi looks upset by this, cause it seems like Haru is trying to justify her mistreatment.

LEGOSI: "That doesn't make it right!"

HARU: "There are many things that aren't right Legosi, but they happen anyway! High school bullies ruining a pleasant evening for shit that happened years ago isn't right, but it happened didn't it, because of ME!"

Legosi and the boys look surprised by this outburst. Haru then looks sad.

HARU: "I never deliberately broke a relationship or or sought boyfriends out... I always figured that I was not half as bad as them or their girlfriends for being more angry at me than at them. But, maybe it would have been better if I had rejected them. I never imagined that someone would still be so angry because of me... She was unnecessarily rude to you, and I can't help but to feel that it was my fault that she was like that. I don't care what those girls think about me, but I don't like it when others take the brunt for it. Especially people whose only crime was to be nice to me."

The tram comes out of the tunnel. We see the city through the windows again, and the tram is now lighter. Haru gives the 701s an apologetic look.

HARU: "I'm sorry about getting you thrown out and barred."

She then meets their looks, looking like she is expecting them to see her in a different light after what she has told them.

JACK: "You have nothing to feel sorry about. You stood up for us back there."

Haru gives off an uncertain expression.

HARU: "That... It was nothing."

JACK: "It was more than you think!"

DURHAM: "Yeah, no herbivore has ever done that for us before."

Haru shakes her head though, unable to take the compliment.

HARU: "But I caused a scene and got you barred!"

Jack waves this off.

JACK: "Eh, that's not a big loss. I mean the atmosphere was just not up to par anymore and board games are pretty square anyways. We should just go to the arcade next time."

Collot interjects at this though, giving Haru and excited expression.

COLLOT: "No, bowling! We gotta go bowling!"

VOSS: "Not before we see something at Biorama. I vote for that new dinosaur-film! What do you think Haru-chan?"

Haru looks increasingly surprised as the 701s all suggest places where to go next time.

MIGUNO: "Karoake bar! We haven't been there in like forever!"

DURHAM: "Mini-golf!"

Haru and Legosi stare at the the guys as they argue about where they all should go next time they meet.

HARU: (They're already talking about where they want to go with us next time?)

Legosi sits down next to Haru again. The two smile warmly at the boys. ---

Skipping ahead for a bit, we see that the tram has stopped at the train station. Haru and Legosi is stepping off, having reached their destination. The 701s all wave their goodbyes to Haru.

COLLOT: "Hope to see you again soon!"

VOSS: "Remember to show me how to do that ear-trick next time!"

DURHAM: "Take care of that big lug in the meantime, or else he'll get into trouble!"

Haru laughs, while Legosi look a little bothered by being called 'lug.'

HARU: "It's a promise!"

Jack gives her a kind smile.

JACK: "Take care of yourself till we meet again."

Haru smiles back, though she also has a bit of a concerned look as she gives Jack a reply.

HARU: "As long as you promise to do the same."

Haru and Legosi go out, with the door soon closing behind them, and the tram proceeds to go. Suddenly, they hear a banging noise coming from behind them. They turn and see that the 701s are banging against the window and waving and saying goodbye excitedly. Legosi and Haru smile and wave back as the train passes and eventually disappears out of sight.

As they proceed to walk through the train station, walking down the steps towards the exit, Legosi turns to Haru.

LEGOSI: "So what do you think?"

HARU: "Well I understand why you're thorn. They're all so nice."

She hugs the Danny-doll a little tighter, thinking back to how Jack helped her get it.

HARU: "Though if I had to make a choice, I think like you: Jack should be your best man. Not that the others couldn't do a great job, but you two have the longest history."

LEGOSI: "I know. It's just that I hate the idea to make people feel less for selecting just one of them...!"

HARU: "They're still gonna be your groomsmen. And who knows, maybe Miguno and his band could lend their services at the reception. What kind of music do they play?"

LEGOSI: "Alternative Punk Rock."

Haru gets a disdainful look.

HARU: "Yikes... I wonder what kind of wedding march that might lead to... What about the stag party?"

Legosi stops as he reaches the end of the stairs. He gets a disdainful expression.

LEGOSI: "I dunno if I'd even like one..."

HARU: "Oh come on, its your right. Surely one of the guys could organize something for you?"

Legosi, noticing that the shoe on his right foot is untied, kneels down and begins to tie it.

LEGOSI: "Well, I suppose... Though I have to ask them about being my groomsmen first. I mean they don't even know we're engaged. But before any of that, we should probably tell our families."

Haru walks down and joins Legosi at the end of the stairs, looking him excitedly.

HARU: "Such as when we meet your grandfather?"

With his shoe tied, Legosi stands up.

LEGOSI: "Feels like a good time for that."

Haru stares up Legosi. He meets her look and blinks.

LEGOSI: "What?"

HARU: "Can I... Try something?"

LEGOSI: "Try what?"

Looking around, she then beckons him with a finger, gesturing him to come down to her level.

HARU: "Come down here."

Legosi crouches down. Haru then gets close and whispers something into his ear. Legosi's eyes widen at whatever she just said.

LEGOSI: "Are you-" ---

DURHAM: "-KIDDING?!"

We see the 701s as they continue to travel by tram. Durham and the others are giving off incredulous looks directed at Collot, who has put his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose.

COLLOT: "Yeah... I mean if they're anything like Haru, dating herbivores mustn't be that bad. You see, she made me realize something tonight:"

He raises a clenched fist and showcases a dramatic, convicted pose.

COLLOT: "As long as a girl is nice, has a pretty face, a fine rack and decent butt, it doesn't matter what species they are... They should all have an equal right to some COLLOT!"

Jack looks like he cannot even compute what he has just heard.

JACK: "I... I don't know if that is open-minded or just new levels of objectification."

DURHAM: "Yeah, it sounds more like it was your dick who learned a lesson tonight."

Collot gives off a jovial laugh.

COLLOT: "Heh!"

DURHAM: "Although... I can understand it better now. I mean I am still a little mind-boggled as to how it works, but now I at least understand the attraction. She's quite exciting, that one..!"

Collot nods.

COLLOT: "She's a little firecracker, that's for sure."

MIGUNO: "But still perfectly pleasant, like you said Jack."

VOSS: "And hot. A little small for me though..."

Jack gets a contemplative expression.

JACK: "..." ---

We enter a short flashback, where we see Haru talking to Jack back at Yanni's.

FLASHBACK-HARU: "When I am with him, I feel neither scared or sad." ---

JACK: "Yeah, I like her."

Miguno nods.

MIGUNO: "Same for me."

Voss crosses his arms.

VOSS: "If Legosi makes her cry, I'll kick his ass."

Durham mimics the fennec's gesture.

DURHAM: "And I'll join you."

Collot, sporting a goofy grin, leans his chin in his hand.

COLLOT: "I like her personality AND her cinnamon buns!" ---

We see a crowd of people from a bird's eye point of view in the street, staring up at something with weirded out looks.

HARU: "I got to admit... Voss was right."

LEGOSI: "M-hm...!"

We then see what it is all about: Legosi is walking through the street while Haru is sitting on his shoulder in the same manner that Voss usually does with Collot. Haru looks like she is really enjoying herself, while Legosi looks uncomfortable.

HARU: "This is pretty damn awesome!"

LEGOSI: (I feel like a rookie father carrying his kid on his shoulder!)

THE END... FOR NOW ---

#beastars #fanfiction #script style #haru #legosi #jack #miguno #collot #voss #durham #grey wolf #fennec fox #dwarf rabbit #spotted hyena #sheephound #coyote

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nancywheelxr · 6 years ago

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#10 in angst for Alice/Kady? - lesbianmxgicians

10. Change in mind or change in heart?

The weeks after are a mess.

The Monster is gone, true, but the mess it left behind is still very much there and sometimes Alice wonders if they will ever be able to clean it up for good.

It’s just, there are so many other things to take care of– sometimes it feels like they’re putting out fires by drowning everything else.

And besides, everyone is busy in their own way.

Eliot and Margo are running themselves ragged, trying to find a way to save Fillory, and Eliot himself is frankly as much of a mess as could be expected considering what he went through, and Quentin is always either fussing or staring at him as if Eliot might disappear if he looked away.

Julia is running herself ragged in that familiar way she did last year, trying to fan the spark of magic inside her back to the holy fire it used to be, with Penny devoting himself into making up for his choice. Well, Alice can’t fault her, really. It must be strange to go from goddess to ordinary in less than a blink.

But where does that leave Alice, really?

Everyone else either has something to do or someone to look after, but Alice is still struggling to find where she fits in all that. In the beginning, she had been alone, and then she hadn’t, and then she was alone again, and now– she’s not not alone.

An odd limbo of a place to be, if she’s being honest.

The Library would have her working there full time, she knows, but something doesn’t sit well with her. Maybe it’s the history in those walls, all that place did to them over the years and all they did to it– how do you see past all that? The new dust settling over the shelves doesn’t cover all the times they nearly died in those halls.

Maybe that’s what makes her knock on Kady’s door.

“Please, don’t punch me again,” she says once the door swings open, flinching in embarrassment when it’s not Kady on the other side. “Oh, it’s you,” she adds, unsure if she meant to be rude or not.

Pete only snorts, though, calling over his shoulder before stepping aside. “Kady, I think this one’s for you.”

He slips out the door in the time it takes Alice to frown at him and take two steps into the living room. It hits her none of them had come back here since then, only Kady.

And Pete, it seems.

“Thought you were still holed up in the Library.” The voice startles her and Alice whirls around to find Kady, arms crossed and lips pursed, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hi, sorry, I should’ve called,” she feels the need to backtrack even without having said anything, apologize for vaguely shaped things, and maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “I didn’t mean– I don’t want to interrupt.”

Kady shrugs. “Pete was already leaving.”

In the pause, Marina’s clock tick-tocks loudly.

“So? I’m assuming you wanted something?” Kady raises her eyebrows, pushing off the wall to wander closer, sit in the couch in front of Alice. Go on, her eyes dare her to.

“I changed my mind,” Alice says, announces, and it feels more important than it really is. And vaguer, too. She changed her mind about quite a few things in these weeks she spent in the Library. “I’ve been thinking– I take it back, I was wrong.”

Something complicated flickers through Kady’s eyes, her face shuttering in less than a second, but not before Alice could see the hope rippling through her carefully blank expression in quiet waves.

Inside Alice’s own stormy chest, it cracks like thunder.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Kady asks deliberately, her spiky defense going up valiantly.

“You know what it means,” Alice says quietly, tucking her own hair behind her ear with shaking hands. She’s not sure she’s brave enough to say it aloud, not yet.

“You said,” she stops, fingers flexing like she wants a drink, and god, Alice already knows all her ticks and oddities by heart, how could she think this was anything less than– no. Not yet. Kady sighs, runs a hand through her hair, but when she speaks again, her voice is surprisingly vulnerable. “Was it a change in mind, or a change in heart?”

Alice smiles.

“In mind,” she answers easily, taking a step closer and a deep breath, lungs aching with need. “I think my heart was already sure then. It’s my mind that needed to catch up.”

“Alice,” Kady whispers, averting her gaze, and Alice is thrown back to that night they had left the Library late, later than all nights before, and Kady had paused under a streetlight, causing Alice herself to stop a few feet away.

“Hey,” Kady had said, and her eyes had caught the stars above, glittering impossibly, “we should– we could get a drink.”

Alice had frowned, feeling her heart race. “It’s almost midnight,” she had looked around at the empty street as if to prove her point.

“So what,” she had shrugged, hiding her hands in the pockets of her jacket, “I know a place that’ll still be open.”

Then, Alice’s heart had dropped all pretenses of still knowing how to beat and drummed up a hurricane in her ribcage. She wanted to say yes desperately, anything to keep Kady looking at her like that, but the fluttering of her stomach was terrifying in the way staring down an abyss is– the second where you sway in that stomach-dropping way right at the edge, and it could go either way, you could find your footing and stay firmly on firm ground, or you could free fall down the rabbit hole and–

In the past, Alice found it hurts a lot when you hit the bottom.

Kady is still looking at her like she’s the one with the moon on her hair.

“I– it’s late,” she ends up saying, eyes glancing away, down at her shoes, at the cracks in the pavement. “We should– I should probably go home.”

“Yeah,” Kady echoes, and all the stars dim their light above them, “I’ll walk you home, come on.”

She does, and they don’t talk all the way to the bus stop.

Alice chooses the safety of the ground below her feet.

“We should go out for drinks,” she says here, now, in the present, in the middle of the apartment that used to be Marina’s but is now Kady’s and that looks every day a bit more like Kady. “And you should kiss me. Now.”

“It’s late,” Kady echoes their previous conversation, eyes wide as she looks up at Alice from the couch. She leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Near midnight. Are you sure?”

“I don’t care,” Alice says firmly, stepping even closer. Her sensible black shoes are touching Kady’s boots. “You really should kiss me. I mean, I’d like that. A lot.”

A grin, slow and delighted, bordering into a smirk, spreads across her face. “Well, when you put it that way,” she laughs, quiet and breathless, and drags Alice down for a kiss.

Alice tastes the skies on her tongue and decides she quite likes the fall.

Drinks are postponed until the next evening.

#look an ask #the magicians #kalice #alice x kady #alice quinn #kady orloff diaz #the magicians tag #kalice tag #magiciansfemslash

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helianthus21 · 6 years ago

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Dean vs. Cat

Dean and a kitten battling over Cas’ love for @theabsolutemagicpotato based on this artwork and what you said would be Dean’s thoughts about the picture they make :D (note: Cas named his cat Galadriel because he thought Dean would appreciate it and also because the -el makes it sound like she’s one of his kin:)

She was back again. Perched by Cas' side while the angel tapped away on his laptop in deep concentration. She was getting comfortable too, rubbing her head against Cas' thigh, every move aimed at mocking Dean, he was sure.

Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to come up with a way how to proceed even as she purred. One eye snapped open, and Dean swore she was staring right at him, watching Dean's every reaction and relishing in his pain before she rose and climbed right into Cas' lap.

Dean was seething.

“Hello, little cuddlebug. What is up?” Cas cooed to her. And the cat purred louder and Cas scratched her on the head and Dean felt a horrible sense of wrongness because that was his place, right there on Cas' lap. That should be his head being pet. Not that he needed to be pampered like a.. like a kitten! But still. That place on Cas' lap looked nice and like it had Dean's name written on it, meaning he had more rights to it than that stupid cat. He was Cas' boyfriend after all. Hell, he should just speak out and claim his right (after asking nicely, because that was still Cas' lap, even if Dean's name was written on it and anyway, he wasn't as rude as that cat because he'd wait for Cas to finish whatever he was doing on his laptop before he'd interrupt with some Dean-time).

As he was contemplating all this he realized he was still standing there, in the doorway, ultimately giving the cat more quality time with Cas through his inaction and that was just unacceptable. So he cleared his throat, announcing his presence to the room.

Cas lifted his head and met his gaze. A small smile was sent his way as Cas said his trademark greeting “Hello, Dean,” and instantly Dean began forgetting all about stupid boyfriend-stealing cats and felt a smile of his own creep onto his face. It was a short-lived reprieve, however, because the vengeful kitten chose that moment to hog Cas attention back by meowing loudly and Cas looked back down to her and resumed his displays of affections. To the cat. Who clearly didn't deserve it. How Cas couldn't see how evil that thing was was beyond Dean. He cleared his throat again. “Uh, Cas, I wanted to ask if you wanna, uhm...,” he began. Quick Dean, think of something. “Go for a walk?” Good idea, Dean praised himself. A walk outside, where that lazy thing wouldn't accompany them. Not when she was in lazy mode like this. Cas gave him an apologetic look. “Maybe later, Dean. I am writing down a report about our last case. You remember how Sam said we should catalog our ‘stuff’ more? I'm trying to do just that, but this thing,” he gestures at the laptop with an air of frustration, “isn't exactly cooperating. Sorry, Dean.” Dean thought to offer his help with the technology, since Cas was even less versed in that area than Dean himself, but he noted how Cas' attention wasn't really on the laptop at all, but rather on the cat that had settled between his crossed legs, so he supposed it was a moot point. “I'll come back later, then,” Dean voiced his surrender. The cat put on a rather smug expression, and Dean could swear that when she stuck his tongue out, it wasn't just to lick at Cas' hand, but also to stick the tongue out at Dean. Dean ground his teeth. You win this round, he thought at the cat. But next time. Next time I'll know to fight dirty.

*** The next time he found Castiel, he was alone in the kitchen, making something that looked like it might be cookie dough. Dean came up behind him, wrapped his arms around Cas' waist and laid his head on top of Cas' shoulder. “Mmm whatcha doin'?” he murmured in Cas' ear. “I'm making chocolate-chip cookies,” he answered, and that confirmed that theory. A cheeky smile crept onto Dean's face. “Can I have some?” But Cas was already driving a finger through the dough before lifting it to Dean's mouth without turning his gaze from the bowl. Dean wrapped his lips around the proffered finger gladly, sucking off the dough, savoring how those little bits of chocolate melted on his tongue and goddamn, Cas really knew what he liked. When he'd licked all the rest of the dough from his lips, he just stayed there, snuggled close to Cas and nuzzling into his neck.

That was nice, he thought. That was very nice. He could gladly stay like this for quite a few minutes more, even without the cookie-dough-incentive, if Cas was willing to hold off his baking adventure a little while longer. But,“Meow!” came the sound of Dean's arch nemesis trampling all over his hopes and dreams. She wedged herself between Cas' and Dean's pressed together thighs and threw a tantrum down there before jumping right on the kitchen counter. “No!” yelled Dean, equal amounts annoyed at this monster pushing Dean out of Cas’ center of attention again, and scandalized at the sheer hygiene violation she presented. “Cats are not allowed up there! Cas, tell her!” The cat tried to peek into the bowl with the dough in it but Cas anticipated her intent and pushed her head back gently, murmuring that “No, honey, that's not for you,” in a much too soothing voice which the cat was undeserving of. He picked the cat up and set her down onto the floor again. An action that required him to step away from Dean's embrace, and then he just knelt on the floor for a minute, promising the cat another, more cat-appropriate snack and completely abandoned the fulfillment of Dean's feed-and-cuddle-quota of the day. It was unacceptable. Unacceptable! Shocked and affronted as Dean was, it took him until after Cas had selected the previously mentioned cat-appropriate snack before he could put his absolute affront into words. He cleared his throat pointedly. Cas looked up at him, from his perch before the cat who had her eyes closed in contentment from being treated like a princess while Cas' boyfriend was brushed aside as though he was a ghost. Or well, brushed aside like not-a-ghost. Because in this family, ghosts were generally salted-and-burned, and not ignored. Point was – “Cas, weren't we in a middle of something,” he reminded him. Cas blinked at him, frown deepening just the tiniest bit and then he said “Ahh,” and nodded. “The cookies! We were baking the cookies.” And he stood up to pre-heat the oven, formed the cookie dough in neat little flat circles and put them on a baking tray. All the while the cat was rubbing against Cas' legs, purring like she was so very pleased with herself. Because Cas didn't mind her clinginess as long as she didn't make him trip which she seemed to carefully avoid. Dean's attempts at casual affection on the other hand, were met with several “Dean”s, all pronounced in that Cas Tone Of Voice Number “Keep-going-and-you’re-in-trouble”. And that's how Dean found himself banned from the kitchen – yes, his kitchen!! – while that walking hygiene offense could roam around freely and claim Cas yet again as hers. *** Dean was beginning to feel rather aggrieved, and it was all to blame on that stupid cat, of course. She was deliberately stealing his boyfriend away, depriving Dean of his much needed Cas-time and Cas, the former commander of whole celestial armies, the strategist extraordinaire who looked at everything from all possible corners before getting an idea of things – that Cas didn't even seem to be aware of her secret ploy. It was really messing with Dean's head, the fact that he always seemed to lose against a furry little pet of all things! He was a hunter for god's sake, a hunter who'd survived to live his fortieth birthday, who'd gone against demons and gods and all kinds of ancient monsters, and now he was gonna be defeated by a measly little kitten? Apparently, yes, he was. Hanging his head (his whole body seemed too heavy to hold up all the way from the lack of Cas he had to suffer, so he kind of just scuffled through the halls of the Bunker until he found a comfy surface where he could curl up and bury himself in his own misery), he made his way over to their bedroom. Where he immediately stopped in his tracks, right there in the open doorway because she was there already, and all up in Cas’ personal space too! God, was Dean not getting any respite at all? It wasn't even cute anymore, how the cat had made herself at home up there on Cas' head while Cas was sipping his coffee. Not at all cute. How her little leg dangled down at one side of Cas' forehead. How she rubbed her cheek back and forth on that fluffy mop that was Cas’ hair.

It wasn't cute one bit. Dean's hand flew down to the pockets of his Dead Guy Robe, following his urge to swing the holy water spray flask at the devil kitten (he'd made it just for an occasion such as this!) but when he raised his hand again, suddenly he had his phone clasped between his fingers instead of the flask, and found himself zooming in on Cas and his cat-hat and snapping a picture of it. He scowled at himself because that wasn't at all what he’d intended to do. But at least now he had confirmation that the cat wasn't a vampire cat because she showed up very clearly on Dean's phone screen! “Dean!” greeted Cas, who'd finally noticed Dean's presence over there at the edge between their bedroom and the hallway. “Why don't you come in?” Cas seemed genuinely confused about Dean's obvious reluctance to come closer, and Dean reminded himself that it wasn't Cas' fault that the cat ruined everything good in life. So he approached slowly, offering a forced smile and said, “Hey.” Cas reached out a hand to draw him onto a sitting position on the bed beside him, and once again just that simple touch, like a glass of water offered to a man dying of thirst, raised to the surface how absolutely neglected Dean was feeling. All the while, the cat was still secure in her position on Cas' head, not disturbed at all by any of Cas' careful movements. In fact, she seemed to have fallen asleep up there. “Dean, I wanted to thank you for your patience these past week,” began Cas what sounded like a long-ish, serious speech. “Because, Dean, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it seems like Galadriel is quite a bit jealous of you.” Dean bit back a petty 'You don't say'. Cas dropped his gaze to the bedsheet, a rather impressive deed seeing as he still had to balance the cat on his head. “I know how hard it can be to come into a family late, when all the dynamics have been built up already. You try to find your place without toppling the longstanding scaffold of familial bonds that has been established without you. It is a challenging maneuver, just to prove yourself worthy of that place.” Listening to his words, Dean felt his heart sink in his chest. He'd had no idea. “So, I thought, it might make it a bit easier for Galadriel to adjust in her new surroundings if she felt truly wanted here. If I gave her my unshared attention for a while. I realize that might not have helped with her feelings of jealousy towards you, because now...,” Cas sighed. “I'm not sure, Dean, but I think she either fears she has earned your dislike, or she feels validated in segregating you. In either case, I have failed to discipline her right and I want you to know that was not my intention. I will try to correct my mistake and get through to her.” All this time Dean had thought Cas completely oblivious. Instead, Cas had been trying to give the cat what he himsef would have needed back then, when he’d made his first steps into his new home, with the Winchesters. A confidante, a hand to hold. Dean had tried to be that for Cas, he really had. He just hadn't known how much more of that Cas needed. He'd always taken Cas' hesitancy for a sign that he needed space, and Dean'd given him that. But maybe he'd had it all sideways. So Dean slung an arm around Cas' shoulders now, drew him closer, careful not to topple the cat-hat arrangement. “Oh, Cas,” he said. “We're gonna work it out.” He found himself looking up at the cat hat Cas was wearing and snorted at the ridiculous image they made. “You two are sort of a package deal now, huh,” he remarked, and Cas gave him a sheepish smile. Dean remembered what Cas said about the 'scaffold' of their family and how fragile he seemed to fear it to be that such a little pet was enough to shake it. He wondered how much of Dean's distrust of the cat Cas had projected on himself. With a shrug, he added, “Well, guess that makes us a three-package sorta deal, then.” Because he couldn't just let those doubts roam free in Cas' head. Not on his watch. The hopeful glint in Cas' eyes assured him that: message received. “Thank you, Dean,” he said. The cat still slept away on his head. “I know I should've come to you with the cat problem. Sorry, Dean. I just didn't want to trouble you because I know how reluctant you were with welcoming her in our home. But it seems like trying to solve the problem alone just made it worse. So: sorry.”

Dean grinned. “Oh, he learns.”

Cas shoved him for that, gently.

“Okay, okay,” Dean chuckled. “Does this mean I can get my boyfriend back now?”

“Of course,” Cas said matter-of-factly, and to Dean’s immense joy, he leaned even closer, letting Dean’s arms circle him into a warm embrace.

“Yeah, okay,” said Dean, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that just this casual touch was slowly but surely melting the metaphorical ice around his body that had made him feel like a zombie these past few touch-starving days. “So anyway, now that we've settled that... just one more thing. Can we make this room, at least, a cat-less space? Just our bedroom? There's some things I want for just myself, y'know.” Cas nodded once, a small smile painting his face in mute contentment. “I understand. I will speak with her once she's woken up.”

“Thanks, Cas.” He took Cas' coffee cup from his hands which was empty by now and went to place it in the kitchen's dish washer. Then he made a quick stop at the bathroom to change into something other than the Dead Guy Robe, and before he returned to the bedroom, the idea came to him that maybe he should start trying to get into the cat's good graces. Maybe he should bring a little post-nap snack as a peace offering. So he went back to the kitchen and grabbed one. When he reached their bedroom, the cat was already waiting in front of the door, looking a little miffed at being thrown out. Dean knelt down beside her, ignoring her little antagonistic hiss. “Hey there,” he said. “Looks like we started off on the wrong foot, huh.” The cat was eying him warily, but at least she wasn't outright attacking him. Dean took that as a win. “How about we start anew? Blank slate whaddaya say?” He offered the snack to her which she took gladly, despite her ongoing dislike of him. The way to a cat’s heart, as it seemed, was through its stomach too. Maybe they weren’t so different after all. “I'm Dean.” He reached out his hand to her paw which she ignored, still happily chewing on her snack instead, so Dean made do with tapping her leg lightly once, twice. “Okay. One thing we got in common at least, huh,” He nodded his head towards the closed bedroom door behind which Cas was waiting. “He means a lot to me, you know. And I'm guessing he means a lot to you too. So how 'bout we bury the hatchet, and start trying to do what makes him happy. Which is, ya know, not being a little bitch all day long. Maybe every other day. When he’s not looking.” Dean winked. The cat had stopped chewing, her head bent down towards the ground. For a little while, all they did was sit there and stare at nothing. Then, very tentatively, the cat moved her head forward and nudged Dean’s hand ever so slightly. He almost didn't feel it, so light was it. But it happened, and it was something, Dean decided. Definitely something they could work with. He nodded at the cat, satisfied with the little agreement they had just negotiated, and slipped through the door. Thankfully, the cat stuck to her promise and stayed outside. And Dean could finally get his oh so long awaited cuddles!

#destiel #cas and animals #ficlet #mine #team all the cuddles for dean!!#crack #fluff and crack #kitten #i needed dean to get a little win so their bedroom's a no-cat-zone #sorry galadriel #anyway #hope you like it:'D #it's silly but it's supposed to be so #spn #sorry for any possible mistakes that are still there i was getting sick of rereading #i hope it still makes sense a bit..#if not blame my cold muddled brain haha

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bitletsanddrabbles · 2 years ago

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Okay, first off, the hate on Miss Bunting is not just being rude to Robert - she’s rude to fucking everyone. Lady Rose repeatedly invites her to things and tries to include her, and she repays that by coming in and deliberately starting fights by throwing her political opinions around. There is a time and a place for these things and sitting at someone’s table, eating their food, having been invited there is neither the time nor the place! And picking a fight with a bunch of refugees? I don’t care if you hate their politics, these people have lost their homes. Many of them have lost their loved ones. If Robert had treated a bunch of lower class refugees like that, you’d have lynched him.

Second off, everyone who loves to scream about how Robert doesn’t care about anyone or their feelings has some serious blinders on. This is the man who sent his cook to get her cataracts fixed. The man who hired a cripple because of loyalty. The man who kept a servant who’d given him nothing but trouble for years from being arrested. The man who gave a sentenced murderer the use of his solicitor. The man who stood up for the entire town on the point of keeping their cricket pitch and having a war memorial that would actually do them some good. The man who didn’t say ‘boo’ about his servant improving her education until it was reported it was impacting the job he was paying, housing, and feeding her to do. The man who created a separate war memorial in honour of his-not-blind-book’s nephew who was shot for cowardice.

Those of us who can’t stand Miss Bunting are the ones who are less interested in finding all of the ways to turn Robert into a cookie-cutter stand in for our own political hatred and agree with Branson the Socialist in season one:

“(on his approval of Robert) Not as the representative of an oppressive class, but he’s a good man and a decent employer.”

You can poo-poo all of the evidence to back that statement up, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. The fact that half of his staff even still have jobs and that Miss Bunting was even allowed in the house speaks volumes.

Seriously, let’s put this on the other foot: imagine that a member of your family falls for a Tory. You don’t approve, but when another member of your family says ‘hey, let’s invite the Tory over because it’s the decent thing to do’ you grumble, but you don’t say no. Then the Tory comes in, sits down, and starts pontificating on Tory politics and being all ‘I’m right and you’re wrong and furthermore, you’re an ass.” The closest I’ve come to this was a friend’s Libertarian then-fiance who I was meeting for the second time who decided to be a smug ass shit about my not liking our Republican candidate for governor and let me tell you, he nearly wound up wearing my lunch. The only reason he didn’t was a) I was hungry and b) the poor IHOP staff didn’t need that.

And while we’re on the subject, if you brought your potential boy-or-girlfriend home to meet your family, to meet people you cared about, and they acted like that, how would you feel? Miss Bunting being rude to Robert does more than show her politics and her feeling for him, it speaks pretty loudly to her feelings for Branson. Even louder is her parting - “I wish I’d met you before you met her”. She doesn’t give a flying rat’s ass for that man - what she loves is the idea of what he could have been if Sybil had never been in the picture. If she had actually loved him, she’d have made an effort to care about the Granthams rather than seeing them through her own, thick veil of prejudice. But her politics are more important to her than he could ever be, and since he’s not willing to cut ties - since he’s gone and gotten attached - she can’t be bothered to shut up and play nice for one damn dinner.

I will never get the hate on Miss Bunting for being "rude to Robert"

I literally don't give a fuck about that Roberts literally a tory, not caring about peoples rights and feelings is ruder

#downton abbey #miss bunting #character meta #lord grantham #robert crawley #tom branson

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lolainblue · 8 years ago

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Presque Vu Chapter 10

TW: Smut. Spanking.

Raina stared at the phone, the text message waiting there making her head spin.

Green. Yellow. Red. Tell me what those colors mean Raina

She had dropped Shannon back off the bar to get his truck before heading into work. They had lingered there in the parking lot for several minutes before he left her, exchanging slow, wet kisses and promises to get together again soon. He hadn't mentioned anything about her revelation that she was seeing someone else since she had told him in the bar and she was grateful that he seemed to be willing to let it go. It probably meant he was seeing other people too, and she was fine with that. And since she didn't have to worry about Shannon it left her the whole drive into work to think about what she was going to do about Jared. She had thought about texting him back that morning, but wasn't sure what to say after their exchange last night and tossed her phone into the bottom of her purse to be dealt with later. She didn't know what she even wanted from him. Now as she sat down for lunch, she wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into. Cautiously, she typed her reply.

Go. Caution. Stop. And I know they're not just for traffic lights if that's what you're asking.

She may have been inexperienced in that department but this was the age of the internet after all. There were all flavors of smut available to fuel her imagination. She sat her phone down on the table and went back to her sandwich. There was no immediate response, but that didn't surprise her as the message was already several hours old. She wasn't really sure what she wanted him to say. She wasn't even sure what she herself wanted to say. Last night with Shannon had been amazing. Waking up this morning to see him next to her, sleeping on his tummy, pillow all bunched up under him had made her smile in a way she hadn't in a long time. But strangely it didn't make her want Jared any less. She was still irritated with Jared for assuming she would just be sitting around waiting for him to call, but she wanted to see him. She told herself it was all sex and chemistry and no connection but that wasn't entirely true either. She had been acutely aware of how deliberately they both had danced around opening up at that dinner. For whatever reason, Jared seemed to be as careful about his emotions as Raina was. The question was could they get through that? In the meanwhile, what he was offering were things she could never get from Dan. He had balked at the suggestion of anything that strayed from the bedroom norms. It was no wonder she was dying for a little adventure now.

The phone buzzed with another alert.

Good. I'll be over at 7.

I did warn you about being a naughty girl. I hope you enjoyed your date.

Raina bit her lower lip. A few lines and her heart was already racing. He knew exactly the things she craved, how to make her crumble. However, she wondered if this wasn't the point where they needed to sit down and have at least some kind of talk.

Don't you think that maybe we should try talking for a change?

The response was quick.

Oh, we're going to talk. There's going to be quite a bit of talking. But the first conversation is going to be between my hand and your ass.

You can tell me no. You can tell me right now not to come over. We can make dinner plans and have a nice quiet meal and talk about nothing again. Probably sleep together again when it's over. But that's not what you want, is it?

She considered the possibilities. But Jared was right. That wasn't what she wanted at all. She typed up her reply.

I'll see you at 7

Raina started to pour herself a glass of wine to steady her nerves but then decided it would be best if she had all her wits about her and returned the unused glass to the cabinet. Impatiently, she waited for him, watching the clock as it counted down to his scheduled arrival.

Jared was precisely on time. Raina opened the door and invited him inside, not sure what exactly to expect. He didn't say a word as he entered, just reached up and grabbed the back of Raina's hair and propelled her into the bedroom. She followed mutely, already aware of the moisture gathering between her legs. He stopped at the foot of the bed.

“Green, yellow, red, ” he said sternly, still not releasing her hair. “Not 'ow' or 'hey' or some weak 'stop' that I have to try to guess if you actually mean. Green. Yellow. Red. Do I make myself crystal fucking clear?”

Raina could feel her heart thundering in her chest. “Yes,” she replied. He did not release her, just kept his eyes locked on hers, waiting. She tried not to smile when she realized what he was waiting for. “Yes, sir.”

Jared released her hair and sat down on the end of the bed. “Come over here and stand in front of me.” Obediently, she stepped where he directed her to. He grasped her and turned her around so that she was facing away from him before bunching the red dress she had so carefully selected up over her hips. “Hold it there,” he growled. Raina quickly did as she was told.

He slid his fingers under the lacy edge of her panties, teasing as he traced the outer line of them, before lifting them up out of the way so that he could run his palms over the soft cheeks of her bottom. After a moment he slid the bit of lace down her legs before handling her more roughly, grabbing handfuls of the tender flesh that he pinched and groped while Raina trembled in front of him.

“Yes, I think I'm going to enjoy this quite a bit, princess,” he said, shifting back to better position himself. He patted his knee. “Come on down here.”

Still holding her skirt up Raina turned around and looked at him. His voice had sounded almost playful but his jaw was set and eyes hard. The flutter of arousal in her stomach mixed with one of uneasiness. With a swallow, she reminded herself she could pull the plug on this at any time. All it would take was one three letter word. She stepped out of the panties he had left pooled at her ankles and positioned herself face down across his lap.

Jared carefully arranged the bottom of her dress before settling one hand against the small of her back. Softly he caressed the tender skin at the back of thighs, seeming to sense she needed a moment to settle her nerves. When her breathing had slowed a bit he pressed his hand between her knees to part her legs.

“Do you know why we're here, Raina?” he asked, trailing his fingertips across the smooth skin of her inner thighs. His voice was a bit softer than before, still firm but more controlled. This wasn't exactly going the direction Raina had anticipated. She had expected a spanking to be coming, honestly, and the idea of it tantalized her all afternoon. But she had pictured something a little more wild, more along the lines of a few playful swats before he threw her down on the bed and had his way with her. This was not just a game for him. He was asking her a serious question.

“Because I didn't sit around waiting to see if you'd call?” she said, unwilling to let go of the one excuse she had made to cover all her own bratty behavior.

Jared didn't take the bait, however. “You knew I was going to call. I promised I would. There should have been no “if” involved for you. And I am willing to bet you understood exactly what I meant but made that date anyway, didn't you?”

She had. She had become increasingly good lately at finding reasons to justify doing whatever the hell she wanted, but she couldn't really make herself believe them. In his mind, they had made plans, and Raina knew that, and she had essentially stood him up. “Yes.”

“What else?” he prompted.

Raina grumbled. He wasn't going to let any of it go. He knew she was aware she had been in the wrong and he was going to make her own up to all of it. “I was rude and disrespectful when you called.”

“Yes you were,” he said, his hand traveling over the firm globes of flesh settled in front of him. “Do you think that maybe all of this could have been avoided if you had sent me a simple text asking to clarify my plans for Tuesday evening? Or if maybe you had picked up the phone and spoken with me one of the many times I called?”

“Yes, “ she replied, a little quiver creeping into her voice. The anger she had felt at seeing his messages wasn't because he was assuming she was sitting around waiting for him. It was anger at herself for treating him badly. He knew this. Somehow he knew all of this. “I'm sorry.”

He raked his nails across her exposed skin. “Well, perhaps next time you'll make a better choice.” He lingered like that, nails scraping red trails across her legs as he gave the message a minute to sink in. “All right now. Put your palms flat on the floor and do not lift your hands. I don't want them getting hurt.” Resigned to whatever was about to happen, she complied without any further argument. “Before we begin, what are color are we Raina?”

Again she thought of how she imagined this night going. She didn't know how he had turned her from defiant to contrite in just a few sentences but whatever was happening here it was something she needed much more. “We're green.” she told him, pausing before adding, “Sir.”

The first slap arrived without any further warning, the sound surprisingly loud in her small bedroom. Jared immediately rubbed his hand over the stinging flesh where the blow had just landed, and Raina wondered whether the pause was to gauge her reaction or give her a false sense of security. Soon another smack was delivered, then two more in rapid succession that left Raina groaning. It hurt a bit more than she thought it would, but she was embarrassed by how turned on it was making her. Again he paused, kneading and squeezing more roughly this time, the effect only intensified by her raw nerves. He continued in that pattern, manhandling her swiftly reddening ass in between sharp smacks that left her mewling as she fought to keep her hands in place. A few more rounds of this left her whimpering as hot tears started filling her eyes. Her emotions were starting to jumble. She was almost sure now she had gone out of her way to provoke him just to see what he would do. And she knew this was supposed to be punishment but the deepening arousal she was feeling only clouded the water.

He began again, hard smacks in rapid succession, giving her no time to recover. She kicked her legs madly as she fought the urge to pull away from him. She wanted to please him, enjoyed winning the war with her own willpower to remain in place, but it was getting more difficult. Her tender cheeks burned now. Every time his flattened palm connected it was like an electrical jolt that coursed through her, setting her skin on fire only to sizzle and short out in her brain. When he finally stopped again her muscles went slack and the tears started to flow.

“What color are we baby girl?” Jared asked, his voice much softer than when they started. His voice seemed far away almost, and she struggled to connect the question to the concept. He circled his open hand across her bottom, giving her just a second before repeating himself a little more firmly. “I need you to answer me, Raina. What color are we?”

Despite the tears that seem to be pulling all her resistance out with them as they fell, she knew she was okay, she was in a place she needed to be. “Green, sir,” she replied, with as much confidence as she could muster.

“Good girl,” Jared answered. He slipped his circling hand lower, running one finger up her dripping slit. Raina shivered. “You did very well. I'm very pleased. I believe that you are sorry and that you won't repeat that behavior.” He traced a finger across her swollen sex again. “I think maybe you enjoyed that a little too much though. Look how wet for me you are.” He made a few more maddening passes, gathering the juices that had run down onto her inner thighs. “But you've been such a good girl. I didn't have to correct you once. I think you've earned a little relief.”

Raina whined as he slipped two fingers inside her, her body gripping them tightly as he withdrew, leaving her empty and unfulfilled. He slid his fingers forward, making a few wet circles across her tender clit before giving it a sharp smack and then sliding his fingers back into her. Raina cried out in protest but kept her position on his lap, legs parted just where he had left them when they started. He began to move more aggressively then, sliding his thumb across the hard nub at her apex as he plunged into her. Shamelessly she moaned against him.

“That's it,” he purred at her, “I know what you need. Tell me thank you. princess.”

Raina shuddered, feeling her climax rushing in at her. “Thank you, sir.”

He brought his other hand down for another crack against her bottom, this one much softer than those earlier. “Cum for me now. I won't wait all night.”

Raina closed her eyes and gave herself over to the tiny quakes that had been building in her core. Before long they had run together into that long spasm of ecstasy she had been seeking. She gripped Jared's leg, afraid of falling over from the intensity of it. When she had stopped shaking, Jared withdrew his fingers.

“Sit up here,” he told her. Shakily she stood and moved next to him on the bed where she sat down gingerly, feeling the sting as her bottom came to rest against the rough bedspread. Jared held his still dripping fingers up to her. She was astounded at how wet they were. “Open up.”

He pressed his fingers into her mouth as she opened it. Carefully she rolled and twisted his fingers against her tongue, making sure to thoroughly clean up all the juices she had left behind. When she had finished he took hold of her chin and tilted her face to his, delving his tongue into to taste her as he crashed his lips against hers. He then wiped her damp cheeks and gave her another kiss, this time on the tip of her nose.

“Wait right here.” Jared got up from the bed and left the room. Raina could hear what sounded like him shuffling around in her kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water.

“That kitchen is in a sad state. There is no food in there, at least nothing plastic. Do you eat at all?” he asked as he held the bottle of water out to her.

She took a drink of the cool liquid. “I don't have time to cook much. Or shop.”

“Well if I'm going to be coming over here we're going to have to get some food in there. Real food. Not Pop-Tarts and Oreos and whatever else you've got now.” He sat down at the top of the bed, making himself comfortable against her giant pile of pillows. “But I suppose that falls under the things we need to talk about.” He opened his arms and gestured to her.

Raina sat the bottle of water down on the nightstand and curled up against him, slipping her hand around his waist and letting her head fall against his chest. He handed the bottle of water back to her.

“Finish that and then we'll start talking.”

@msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @snewsome756 @maliciousalishious @fyeahproudglambert

#jared leto fanfiction #shannon leto fanfiction #presque vu

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thunderheadfred · 8 years ago

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Red Streak [1.1]

Chapter 01: Shakedowns [Part 1 of 4. Revised June 2017]

Read the complete fic on AO3

Jane SSV Normandy 2183 CE

A sharp voice cut through the after-hours quiet of the cargo bay, but Shepard didn’t flinch. She’d been expecting this.

“Middle of the night and pumping iron, with Eden Prime mere hours away. How true to form.”

Hackles rising, Shepard slowed midway through a lateral curl and turned her head to meet a pair of prying eyes. A mutual clash of acid-green. She could feel her blood darkening in her veins.

The Spectre.

He was posed thoughtfully in the elevator, studying her with all the aloof curiosity of a hitman. His gaze zeroed clean onto the center of her forehead, distant yet steady.

Under that kind of scrutiny, a carefully flattened “Spectre Kryik,” was the most diplomatic greeting she could manage.

As if no one had spoken, Kryik slowly toured the aft quarter of the cargo bay. Far from Alliance standard, the area had been jerry-rigged into Shepard’s personal training course: a Hierarchy Crucible, laden with turian ordnance and gear.

Taking it all in, he mocked her in bland tones: “It’s one thing to look you up on the extranet,” he muttered, addressing the exercise equipment. “Query Commander Shepard, and you’ll return one wild story after another.”

Before she could stop herself, she lowered her barbells and rumbled low in her chest.

Kryik’s face plates twitched, an almost laugh. “Yet here you are, flesh and blood. Jane herself, ridiculously true.”

She ground her molars, taking his point. Here she was. Awake in the middle of the night. Training before a mission. Heavily fatigued after her second round of PT, grinding herself through a Hierarchy Crucible. She’d seen plate glass windows less transparent than this display. Less fragile. Of course a turian Spectre would come to give Commander Shepard hell for pretending to be something she wasn’t.

She flexed a cramp in her left hand, then stared intently at the floor panels beneath Kryik’s casual, contrapposto feet. She was being sized up. Her neck tensed at the thought and she cracked her bones audibly, showing off.

“Fine. What do you want to know?” She said, rumbling in his general direction. “What lullabies he sang to me?”

Kryik took a half step back. His posture stiffened into a more formal parade rest, surrendering little. Sounding annoyed, he said, “Shepard, please. I’m not here to raise awkward questions about your fahrtrix—”

“Pari.” She spat, voice tightening.

A grim silence followed, broken only when Kryik forced a cough.

He rerouted to the weapons bench in the forward port quarter, pulling his shotgun from his back. An unnecessary inspection, she was sure - little more than an excuse for a bit of hands-on busywork. She replaced her weights and resumed her reps, grateful for her own distraction.

Assholes were all the same, regardless of their planet of origin. If Kryik wanted to start something, she’d leave him the opening, just so it could be finished, and quickly.

A few moments later, he relented to her silence.

“I wasn’t trying to provoke you,” he said blandly. “I admit to some curiosity about your upbringing. More than a few questions.”

She froze mid-lift to telegraph him a dark glare, but he wasn’t looking at her. Eyes on his work, he drove forward with the same ease he was using to dismantle his gun: methodical, professional, rote.

“One of my mentors held a particular grudge against you,” he said. “His fury peaked my interest, and I’ve been a spectator of your progress since… well, since you tore through half the commissioned officers at Cipritine Military Academy to earn your N4. Your record…” He tilted his head, at a loss. “It’s… Attention grabbing.”

Her stomach churned. If the Spectre had some personal stake in Shepard’s career, this was the first she’d ever heard of it. His manner since boarding the Normandy had been pure professionalism through and through, almost to a fault. Nihlus Kryik was inscrutable and superior, like some kind of armored iceberg slowly chilling the ship. He didn’t seem the type to be driven by a Fornax-fueled fetish for squishy human maidens, but it wouldn’t be the first time Shepard had been caught unawares.

“I don’t appreciate being watched,” she said, low with warning.

That struck a chord. He stiffened and shot her a look that landed like a disciplining blow.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Commander,” he said. “I’m here for the mission. End of story.” Shepard balked, shoulders tense. “I came to speak with you about Eden Prime,” he added, still serious. “The colony itself.” He had a drill instructor’s rigidity; a face that screamed straighten up or go home. That, at least, was familiar. Something she could work with.

“I’ve never been,” she said, rolling a shoulder.

“They say it’s a symbol of your people, one of the first stable human colonies beyond the Charon Relay. Proof that you can protect a perfect little world on the edges of the Terminus.” He paused and considered his weapon carefully. “But how safe is it really?”

Shepard threw down her weights again, frustrated enough to spit. “Enough ballet, Kryik. What are you dancing around?”

He looked in her direction and squinted academically, but offered no further explanation.

“This is no ordinary shakedown run,” she said, rushing at the chance to confront the Spectre about this face-to-face. “Even Corporal Jenkins isn’t that green. An experimental Hierarchy-Alliance stealth frigate with Captain Anderson and a Council Spectre aboard at zero hour? I don’t think so. And then I get the call: reassigned and promoted by Admiral Hackett himself, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Give me some credit, Kryik, I know I’m not here to smash a bottle of champagne on Normandy’s hull.” She paused for breath, only to lose it all in a defeated sigh. “Or hell, maybe I am. What’s the story this time? Reparations for Shanxi? Some big fireworks display to congratulate the politicians on their latest ass-kissing? Did you smuggle in any reporters for the big circle-jerk?”

She kicked a cargo crate, hard, just to be sure. No startled yelp from within, no hidden camera fell out. Her only reward was silence and a sore toe.

Kryik looked like he had a great deal to say, but no idea what order to put the words in. On his frostbitten face, the lack of sure footing looked almost like embarrassment.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he said, “I suppose it bodes well that Normandy’s crew is smarter than the Council gives them credit for. Anderson knows his people. And he chose the right second in command to back him up. Make no mistake, politics aside, your promotion was his doing.” He quirked his head as if chiding himself, quietly adding, “...and my own.”

Shepard blinked, too stunned to react, but Kryik didn’t clarify. Instead, he firmly steered the conversation back to the mission.

“Our purpose on Eden Prime is twofold,” he said. “First, the Council has asked me to assist Anderson with the covert extraction of a Prothean artifact--”

Shepard interrupted: “Wait. The Council flew a mint-condition experimental frigate to the edge of the Terminus, just so a Spectre could hand-deliver some… what? Museum piece? Or is this for a private collection? I thought the Protheans were a million-year-old myth the hanar sang glow-in-the-dark songs about on Citadel street corners.” She snorted rudely. “So, who’s buying, the asari councilor? Tevos probably likes looking at art that’s as old as herself.”

Kryik’s mouth opened, mandibles twitching, but he seemed incapable of finding the correct words to fill the void.

Finally, he settled for a strained cough that bore only passing familiarity to laughter, and said, “My my, how insensitive. The artifact is a Beacon. Rare finds, exceptionally valuable to posterity, and dangerous as hell. I need to transfer this one to a proper research facility on the Citadel before it falls into the wrong hands.”

“What wrong hands? Human ones?”

Kryik was still aping at cleaning his gun, attempting to split his attention between the weapon and Shepard with an equal lack of favoritism, but the cracks in his veneer were long past showing. When he spoke again, the calm in his voice had taken on a practiced edge.

“The Terminus is a cesspool of pirates and criminals who’d love any excuse to ransack a human settlement,” he said. “Batarian splinter groups that haven’t forgotten the Blitz.” He slowed, pausing deliberately. A show of force.

Much as she tried to hide it, she was sure he’d hear her heart skipping beats. He knew more about her past than he was letting on. Whatever his motives, he didn’t linger.

“At best, humanity has a shaky foothold on the Citadel,” he said. “Last time your people dabbled unchecked among Prothean ruins, that didn’t pan out so well for galactic peace. Whatever that Beacon contains, it affects all of us. Technology like this is unpredictable, very dangerous. Which brings me to my second objective…”

“And what’s that?” she said, hearing the eyeroll in her own voice.

“Evaluating you for Spectre candidacy.”

Shepard went still enough to feel her own bones.

Minutes later, still dazed, she grunted, “You just made that up to piss me off.”

He chuckled unexpectedly, then immediately stilled.

“Strong words, spoken by the impossible human legacy of Albacus Regidonis.”

Hearing her father’s name uttered aloud for the first time in years, Shepard flinched. She closed her eyes to savor the rarity of the sound. Or to block it out. Or both.

“Say I buy this Spectre joke,” she said, hissing through a clenched jaw. “Why wasn’t I briefed by Anderson on any of this?”

“Alliance brass made that call, not me. You were meant to be briefed at the mission sitrep first thing this morning, once we were in orbit. But since…” he glanced at her Crucible again before continuing, a slow, visible arithmetic behind the movement of his eyes. “…you don’t seem bound by Alliance rules and regs, why bother? Whatever gets the job done. When it comes down to it, this mission is Council purview, anyway. It’s need to know, and now you do.”

“Alright, fine, I follow. I’m with you so far. But a human Spectre? How long has this been in the works? Who’s pulling the threads in that spider web?”

“Your people have been pushing for a hand in galactic politics since Relay 314 blew up in your faces, and what better avenue than the Spectres? As to your nomination specifically, I was the one who put your name forward.”

She shook her head, agog. “You?”

“Like I said. Your record is attention grabbing.”

The twist in her gut returned, redoubled.

“No,” she said, biting back a snarl. “I won’t be paraded around like some show animal just because of my father-”

“Too bad,” he said, dropping all pretense. The shift in tone hardly put them on equal footing. Instead, he spoke to her as if she were twelve. “The Council can’t wait to jump on a publicity stunt like you. You have frankly unprecedented perspective on interspecies cooperation.” Shepard crossed her arms and felt the skin on her face boiling, but Kryik lectured on. “Regidonis is only the tip of the spear, the means to an end. Hell, if you really were turian, you’d have already earned this nomination five times over. Your list of accomplishments is preposterous. The bleeding hearts pinned a medal on you for saving civilians in the Blitz, but I dug up the rest. I know what the Alliance tried to hush up, how far you were really willing to go to take back the Skyllian Verge.”

She stared at the Spectre, heart in her throat. He was reading her like a set of first-tier omni-tool instructions, then pushing all of her buttons at once, just to see what she would do. The dim third shift lights had thrown his face into deep pockets of shadow, and she trusted him less than ever.

If Torfan was the moment that made Shepard worthy of being on the Council’s short list, then may she rot in Hell.

“That victory was nothing to be proud of,” she said, meaning every word.

“Say what you want. An ugly call, but you saved thousands and ended a war almost single-handed. You’d make one hell of a Spectre, species be damned.”

Thoroughly and needlessly cleaned, Kryik had finally begun to reassemble his shotgun, one piece at a time. Working from memory now, he kept his eyes on Shepard, watching her with an expression that might have meant anything: challenge, acknowledgment, understanding, disdain. No matter how close she got to his heels, he always seemed ten paces ahead and hidden from view.

After a careful moment’s study, he slowly added, “I imagine your patrem would be proud of all that you’ve accomplished.”

Her blood froze, fists clenching automatically at her sides.

“Proud?" She jerked her head to one side, teeth on edge. "My father would have ripped the Star of Terra right off my uniform and melted it into slag." She stared at her own hand, seeing red. "I promised myself I’d never do anything that ruthless again.”

Kryik nodded seriously, then slid his gun into place on his back.

“And I risked it all, betting on you. If you’re who I think you are, maybe you can prove us both right.”

Then he was gone.

#THIS TOOK HELLA LONG??????#but I think the tone of their conversation is much improved #and more in line with what I originally intended #haha #I dont know if I'll post all the edits like this #I mean I CAN?#but I just figured this one was kind of a Big Deal to me personally #after such a long dry spell #but whatever #let me know?#obviously I'll replace the other chapters with the rewrites eventually #but #not for a minute #Red Streak #Fred Writes #RS chp

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