#yesterday she was hollering while she was supposed to be napping so I went to check on her and she grinned like a fiend when she saw me

[antiquery]

babies are SO weird but our reactions to them are even weirder. my niece is 7 months old and every time she learns a new phoneme I'm like

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 6

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes, blood

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“St. Roch, Louisiana. We’re staying in our own backyard”. Flag was reading from a tablet; as we were taken through a long hallway, leading from the cellblock, to what seemed to be a large garage.

I had a guards pistol aimed at me, as it’s owner followed my every move, with cold eyes.

I had spent the rest the day before, trying to wrap my mind around my new situation.

I was officially a prisoner at Belle Reve – a high security penitentiary, in the sweatiest asscrack of the Louisiana swamps. I was there for the kidnapping and assault of judge Jeremiah Kelper. 

The assault and maiming had been of such a horrible nature, that I was committed to this facility, without trial. My conviction was a formality, as I apparently confessed to the guards of Belle Reve, the night of my arrival.

I was to serve life, without parole.

There was no mention of the incident in Wayne Tower in my file.

Unofficially, I was the newest member of Task Force X, a top-secret group of meta-humans, and people with exceptional skills, required to complete missions of a classified nature.

These individuals also happened to all be convicted felons, and the scum of the earth.

There was Floyd Lawton; a.k.a. Deadshot. The man who never missed a shot. During dinner – sloppy joes, yum… – he’d shown me a picture of a cute 8 year old girl, who had his eyes.

“She’s a bit older now, writes me every day. She just got an A on her biology report!”, he’d exclaimed proudly. It was clear Floyd loved his daughter, more than anything.

Killer Croc – Waylon Jones. He was huge, terrifying; and made me feel safer than I had in weeks, just by his presence. Croc – as he insisted on being called – had won me over, by calling me cher’.

I’d talked to him about Sammy, and recounted some of the trucker stories he’d told me.

After Croc’d told me he’d once eaten a truckdriver, he said: “I’m glad it wasn’t your boss. He seems like a decent guy”.

I’d been surprised by the gentle and kind demeanor of Chato Santana; or, Diablo, as they called him. I’d seen a videoclip on the news once, of him torching a group of inmates at a prison he was held at. I thought he’d be a hothead – pun intended – but he turned out to be calm and remorseful about his violent past.

Harley. Now, she was a different story. She was about as calm as a puppy on poppers. She also seemed to have no remorse for anything she’d done, as the sidekick and girlfriend of the Joker. I was equal parts terrified and enthralled by her person.

She’d spent most of the rest of the day, singing lullabies to a picture of a hyena, and doing her nails. Once, she’d disappeared for about an hour, before returning to her former activities, with a satisfied smile plastered over her pretty face.

We soon discovered what Harley had been doing, when the napping Digger Harkness – Captain Boomerang, the australian – suddenly screamed; jumping up and down, scratching at his body.

“Ants! Bloody fire ants!”, he’d yelped with a shrill voice; running towards the bathroom.

He’d returned a while later, shaking his coat, and sending the giggling Harley a deadly look. His arms and neck were covered in tiny and angry red welts; that he’d scratched at for the rest of the day.

This was my new family. I was very aware that none of us had chosen to be here, but it seemed that we were all determined to make the best of it, until such an opportunity arose, that we’d be able to leave.

Apparently, Harley had tried to run multiple times – even having made it back to the Clown; and stayed of the grid for a few months, before arriving back at Belle Reve, with a pair of roller skates, and a taxidermized beaver.

I didn’t know when or if I’d be able to escape; so for now, I decided to settle in.

---

In the middle of the large garage stood a helicopter the size of a tank. In front of it stood six crates; each of our names written on the side of one of them.

The rest of the squad seemed to know the procedure. They opened their crates, and dug through them. Flag paced back and forth in front of us, carrying a machinegun.

“You know the deal”, he hollered. “Three weapons. Two ranged, one for close combat. Croc and Diablo, you are both the exceptions”. No weapons for them, I guessed.

“Oy, colonel”, Digger called.

“No, Digger”, Flag answered, before the aussie had a chance to ask. “Boomerangs do not count as close range, though they can be used as such. You bring two. No more”. Digger cursed under his breath.

They’d all been through this before. I couldn’t help but feel like it was the first day of school, and that I’d forgotten my backpack at home.

“You alright?”, Floyd asked from behind me.

“Yeah”, I answered. “It’s just…new. How do you do this? How do you work for these people, who treat you like shit, and then demand that you risk your lives for them?”. I bent to open my crate, and started going through the equipment in it.

“Look”, said Floyd. “Ain’t none of us here who wants to be here. Except for maybe Harley”, he smiled, and looked at the person in question.

She was swinging an oversized fairground hammer, almost knocking over a soldier who was busy checking out her ass.

“We do this, because we have to, for one reason or another”. He looked at me seriously. “I’m here for my little girl. Every time I finish one of these missions, I’m one step closer to seeing her again; and to show her that her daddy’s not a monster”.

I pulled out my jacket, stood up, and looked at it.

“You find whatever reason you need to do this, but make sure it’s important enough, not just to survive for, but to live for”, Floyd finished, patted my shoulder, and walked away.

I sighed and returned to my crate. I had no idea what in my life was important enough to live for at this point.

I didn’t have a family to protect or impress. That had all ended after Hatter had entered my life.

Sammy… he was a friend, but he’d be better of if I didn’t return. Ever.

That left my cats. But they were fine where they were.

So what?

I was interrupted in my train of thought by Flag, who suddenly appeared next to me.

“Hey. You need to get ready. Liftoff in 10”.

“Sir, yes, sir”, I retorted, and rolled my eyes.

I went behind a tall crate to change into my outfit. Leggings, top, boots, jacket; and finally, my claws. I tested the knives once, against the crate in front of me, carving through the thin metal easily.

Retracting the claws, I went to join the others.

Flag stopped me before I had a chance to enter the chopper with the rest of the crew.

“One last thing, Chess”, he said, and pulled out a strange looking harness, made out of some synthetic material and wires.

“What’s that?”, I asked, skeptically.

“This is an armed device, that will explode, should you decide to… smile, without being ordered to do so, by myself”.

I looked him, dumbfounded. “You’re gonna blow me up if I go invisible?”, I guffawed.

“No”, he answered. “I’ll blow that nano-bomb in your neck if you try to run away. This device will explode on it’s own, whenever its sensors recognize that you are using your powers”.

I shook my head, confused.

“If I’m not here to do that, then why am I here?”.

Flag used a strange key to unlock the harness.

“After what happened yesterday…” he started. I interrupted him.

“You mean when I didn’t run away?”, I spat.

He was unmoved by my exclamation.

“After what happened yesterday”, he repeated, “Waller seems to think it would be better if I take control of when you should… do your thing. You’ll be able to make things you touch invisible, as usual; but you cannot disappear yourself”.

He held up the newest addition to my outfit, to let me put it on.

“From now on, you will be wearing this whenever you are not in your cell. I can disarm the device at any time, for as long as I deem necessary”.

I stepped back, shaking my head.

“No”.

Flag frowned.

“Put it on”, he said, a slight edge to his voice.

“No”, I repeated, and crossed my arms in front of me.

Flag exhaled through his nose.

“Put it on, or I’ll put it on you myself”, he growled. I tilted my head, and raised my eyebrows at him.

“Is that a promise?”, I asked.

He raised his chin, and looked down at me.

“I can have one of GQs men do it”.

I ripped the harness from his hands, and begun to put it on; trying to figure out where each strap was supposed to go.

There were two straps, one going over each shoulder. One strap went around my torso, from my back to my front. Holding it all together, was one last strap, starting from my back, going down between my legs, and connecting with the others, on the middle of my chest.

Flag grabbed the straps in front of me, connecting them to a round disc, with a small red light in the middle. He tightened the harness as much as he could, making me bump against him; and locked the disc with the key.

“You go invisible; you die. You try to take it off; you die. You even think of trying to steal the key, guess what…”.

“I die?”, I jestered.

“You die”, he answered.

I tried to move around in the strange contraption.

“How am I supposed to pee in this?”, I asked angrily.

“We’ll climb that mountain when we get to it”, he answered, and turned his back to me, walking away.

“Old Fashioned”, I called after him. He turned around.

“What?”, he asked.

“If you’re gonna ride me this hard, it’s only polite to buy me a drink”, I said; turned my back to him, and walked away to join the squad.

---

Landing in St. Roch, our first destination was an old gas station just outside of town. It was abandoned by its owners; probably due to the explosions going off less than a mile away.

“You have your orders”, Flag called. “We go in discretely, locate our target, and take them out”.

“It’s probably going to be more complicated than that”, Diablo muttered next to me. Croc growled in agreement.

“You know, Flag, we’d probably be even more discrete, if you didn’t have Y/N here tied up like a Christmas ham”, Floyd smirked at him.

Flag frowned.

“This is Chess’ first mission. Let her find her legs before we throw her into it”, he said. “Let’s head out!”.

“Someone’s got a crush”, Harley said in a singsong voice, skipping past me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked.

Digger chuckled, and followed her.

“She means, he wants a gander at your map of Tassie”, he winked back at me, and took a swig of the can of beer he’d taken from one of the fridges in the small store.

I shook my head, and feeling a machinegun between my shoulders – I was just thrilled that the Tweedles had joined us on this little fieldtrip – I followed the rest of the group.

Sneaking past a checkpoint – Floyd taking out the inhabitants from afar – we made our way downtown.

I heard crying from behind a dumpster, and stopped to see what it was. A young woman was hiding behind it; shaking in fear.

“Are you ok?”, I asked, reaching a hand towards her.

“Chess!”, Flag called, from a few yards away. “Get your ass over here”.

“She might need help”, I said, and stepped towards the crying woman.

She recoiled from my touch.

“No! Please leave me alone!”, she cried.

Floyd came up behind me.

“She’s afraid of us, Chess”, he said. “Just leave her alone”. He went back to the group, who continued down the street, leaving me alone with Flag and the terrified woman.

I backed away from her, a lump in my throat. Turning around, I walked up to Flag, trying desperately to hold back tears. Behind me, I heard the woman get up, and run down the street, away from us.

I looked up at Flag.

“I wasn’t going to hurt her”, I said quietly.

“I know”, he said shortly. “But she doesn’t”. He made to touch my shoulder; but changed his mind, straightened his back, and turned around.

“Let’s go, kitten”.

We joined the others.

“That was quick”, Harley smiled. “It’s ok, colonel. It happens to all men”.

“Lady, I will rip your pigtails off with my bare hands”, he growled at her, stomping to the front of the group.

“Never happened to me”, Croc winked at Harley, who beamed back at him.

Another checkpoint. Digger took care of this one.

Huddling up behind a couple of cars, we finally saw our target. A lieutenant of Ra’s Al Ghul, who had been stirring up trouble, laying the groundwork for a new stronghold for his master. They had chosen to set up shop in the town square; having tied up a group of around 10 hostages to a statue in the middle.

Flag started barking orders in a hushed voice.

“Alright. Floyd, you got the roofs. Keep in radio contact”. It was clear he trusted Floyd more than the rest of the group.

“Croc, see that van? Make sure anyone in it, and in the immediate vicinity of it, don’t have the chance to warn the target”. Croc went down on all fours, and disappeared into a nearby shrubbery.

“Diablo and Digger. I want you on each side of that building. If they do spot us; I want you to bottleneck them into that alley”, he said, pointing in the direction he meant. “GQ, you and your men join them. One on the flame, two on boomer”. Digger scoffed at the nickname.

“Harley; I want you… actually you just do whatever it is you do, without giving the rest of us away”, he sighed at her.

“Sure thing, boss”, she mock-saluted him. “Go team!”.

“You got your orders. Go!”, he finished; and the group scattered, each to their assigned positions.

“What am I supposed to do?”, I asked, feeling slightly left over.

“You stay on me”, he answered, and looked through his binoculars.

A few minutes went by. Hearing a growl from the direction of Crocs assigned post, I saw blood spatter on the inside of the windows of the van.

I heard Harleys voice yelling; “Batter up!”, followed by a clank and a loud scream.

Some of the lieutenants soldiers began scrambling.

“Goddamnit, Quinn!”, Flag cussed. “You! Stay here!”, he growled at me, and ran in the direction of Harleys voice, leaving behind his binoculars. I picked them up, and looked through them.

In the square, the soldiers were rigging up chains and wires around the hostages. Connected to the wires were multiple red sticks I recognized from movies I’d seen. Dynamite.

I looked in the direction Flag had gone. He and Harley were arguing quietly behind a bus.

I looked back at the town square. Our target was walking back and forth in front of the hostages, ranting about something I couldn’t make out.

I tried zooming in with the binoculars. Military tech for the win, I thought, and looked through them again.

In his hand, the lieutenant was holding what seemed to be a tablet. Large numbers read 5:00. The bastard walked up to a teenage boy, who had a stick of dynamite strapped to his chest. He put his hand on his cheek, and said something to him, that made the boy break down in tears. He then pressed a button on the screen. The numbers began to count down.

4:59.

4:58.

4:57…

Fuck!, I thought, and threw the binoculars on the ground.

Reminded of my harness, I rolled my eyes. Ok. So I couldn’t smile. But I did know how to move quietly and quickly. I pulled up my hood, and closed my jacket.

I snuck forward. I heard a gunshot and a grunt behind me, and looked back; seeing an enemy soldier on the ground, a bullet hole right between his eyes. Thanks, Floyd, I smiled up at the roof of a nearby building, seeing Deadshots white hood disappear back into the darkness.

I moved forward again, hiding behind a truck. A stone landed on the ground next to me; and looking in the direction of the thrower, I saw Flag waving at me.

“Get back!”, he mouthed at me angrily. I shook my head, and looked towards the hostages. Continuing forward, I suddenly heard a beep. Looking down, I saw the light on the disc on my chest turn from red to green.

Looking back at Flag – his wrist raised, pushing some buttons on what looked like a watch – I smirked, and nodded at him. Thanks, I thought.

A purr moving through my body; I smiled.

Readying my claws, I ran towards the square. A soldier looked in my direction, having heard my movement, but unable to see me. Oops. Quietly now, I thought, and scaled a car next to him, making as little sound as I could.

I saw Digger and the Tweedles running towards a group of soldiers exiting a building. They finished them of quickly, but not before having drawn enough attention to make the lieutenant aware of their presence.

He yelled something I couldn’t I understand, and dropped the tablet he had been holding.

Gunfire sounded, and I ran faster, making my way to the group of hostages.

I reappeared, startling a few of the hostages who screamed at me.

Picking up the tablet from the ground, I desperately began pushing the screen, trying to make the countdown stop.

2:35.

2:34.

2:33…

There was no way I could stop the detonation.

I spun around, ran to the statue, and began pulling at the wires.

“You’ll make it go off!”, the teenage boy from before shouted at me.

I ran to the back of the statue, finding a simple lock, holding together the two ends of the chain intertwined with the wires.

This I can handle, I smiled, and got out my kit.

I managed to break two of the lockpicks, my hands shaking from the stress of the situation. I looked at the tablet on the ground.

1:01.

1:00.

0:59…

Taking a deep breath, I gave it one more try. Please, please, please!.

The lock opened.

I grabbed one end of the chain, and ran with it around the statue, releasing the hostages. The teenage boy carefully pulled at the tape that held the stick of dynamite to his chest, and put the red stick gingerly on the ground.

“Thanks!”, he smiled at me, and ran. I smiled after him.

An elderly woman was having trouble keeping up with the others.

0:37.

0:36.

0:35…

“Just go on”, she yelled at me.

“No!”, I answered, and ran to put her arm around my neck. Stumbling a few steps forward, the woman was suddenly lifted from the ground, screaming, as Croc – with a smile plastered across his gruesome face – ran to safety, the old woman hanging over his shoulder.

We did it!, I thought, and went to run after him.

Someone grabbed my leg, holding me in place. Looking down, I saw the lieutenant – a gash across his face, and a gunshot to his chest – laughing up at me. His strong hands were holding on to my leg, making it impossible for me to move.

I looked towards the group waiting for me at a safe distance. The hostages were continuing down the street, running towards sirens and blinking lights.

0:15.

0:14.

0:13…

Flag screamed something at me, Edwards and his soldiers holding him back.

I yanked at my leg, desperately trying to get the dying man to let me go.

0:09.

0:08.

0:07…

I lifted my fist and screamed; cutting through my captors arm. He let go with a yelp; and I ran.

0:03.

0.02.

0:01…

0:00.....

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

[fdd700]

Words: a lot idk (2,930) Characters: Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, Janus, Remus Pairings: Patton and Virgil are brothers (pat is older), the creative twins are, you guessed it, twins with Logan as their older brother, platonic and romantic dukexiety and roceit Trigger warnings: curses (minor), pain, pineapple on pizza (yes, disgusting, ik)

Virgil felt it the second his brain was connected, the dull ache in his right hip. He barely managed to let out a groan, trying to shift off his bad hip and onto his back. He let out a sharp breath as he hit his back. It was one of those days.

He hated those days.

The days when he was all but reduced to his bed before the sharp pain in his hip refused to be quelled. He knows he should get up, to try and stretch it out, but the very thought makes him nauseous.

“Kiddo?” He groans. “You okay?” Patton opens the door slowly, peeking in at the boy. “Bad day?” Virgil nodded and he’d never been so glad to have a brother like Patton. Patton, of course, was aware of these bad days. When Virgil was 10, he got diagnosed with a rare bone condition that affected his bones and left him in so much pain, to the degree that he was basically immobile for a year. He got over the condition fine with a lot of medicine but with lack of mobility for a crucial year in his growth, his muscle weakened and got inflamed a lot, meaning he was constantly on new exercise regimes to re-stretch and re-work the muscles into submission. His right hip muscles, the ones joining his two bones, was currently inflamed and was sticking his bones (Though this confused Patton, wasn’t that what connective muscles were supposed to do?)

“I really just want to sleep all day,” Virgil said.

“We both know I don’t want to give you The Speech,” Patton said, causing Virgil to groan loudly.

“Please, not the speech.” Patton chuckled. 

“How about a compromise?”

“No,” Virgil whined. “Your compromises suck! it's like ‘do these tiresome, painfully stretches for like an hour and then I’ll give you an extra five minutes for a nap’. I would rather The Speech.”

“In that case-”

“No! I was joking, not The Speech,” Virgil said. ‘The Speech’ was an inside joke among the two. When their parents passed away, Virgil was barely 17, so 20-year-old Patton had to help Virgil navigate all his pain alone, with only Logan, Patton’s boyfriend, as a supporter. On one of Virgil’s bad days, he had tried to rouse Virgil to get through his exercise by saying anything and everything off the top of his head. When he was about ten minutes in, Virgil had snapped, saying; “Fine! I’ll do the exercise, just please, Pat, for the love of God, shut up!”. Since then, ‘The Speech’ had been the threat to get Virgil out of bed. Virgil sighed, bringing Patton back to the moments.

“Okay then, smarty-pants, how about I help you through your exercises and then we can chill for the day, I’ll even call off work.” Virgil looked like he battling himself. One side of him wanted to be selfish and spend the day with his brother, but he also knew that his brother didn’t get a lot of days off. Patton seemed to sense this. “Or, I can sit in my office all day and spam you with texts, getting no work done.” Virgil smiled before extending his hands. Patton helped him sit up, carefully and slowly, making sure not to bother the hip too much. He helped Virgil lie down on the floor (the bed was too soft and would mould to his back, meaning he wouldn’t be able to accurately do a lot of the exercises). He placed a pillow under his head, stuck on a playlist, and started the exercises.

“I hate this, I want to stop.” Patton continued to hold Virgil’s leg in place (his right ankle was placed on his left knee, and his legs were drawn up, forcing his right hip to rotate.)

“10 more seconds,” Patton said. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, ″ Slowly, his leg was lowered back down. Virgil let out a large breath. “Only four more exercises to go.” Virgil shook his head, tears springing to his eyes.

“pat please, I can’t do five more.” Patton gently took his brother's face in his hands.

“You’ve done the hard ones, Virge, and you’ve done so well. C’mon, you only have to do three reps of thirty seconds for each one.” Virgil let out a shaky breath, a few tears escaping his eyes, which were quickly wiped away by Patton’s thumbs. “Come on, we can do this.” Virgil snorted slightly.

“This isn’t a ‘we’ situation, Pat, I don’t see you crying from pain,” he joked. Patton would be offended, he’s tempted to pretend to be, but he knows Virgil hates feeling vulnerable and uses humour to cope.

“Well, I don’t see you having to threaten your baby sibling to do his exercises,” Patton said, helping Virgil through the next exercise (place his right thigh over his left, and angling his knee at ninety degrees to stretch the muscle).

“’m not a baby,” Virgil said.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over your baby speak,” Patton said, letting go of Virgil’s leg to stretch it between exercises.

“I’m a man,” Virgil said, making his voice deep to hear his brother laugh. Patton shook his head, re-positioning his leg for him.

“Sure, you are. I’m sure big bad men have to have their crusts cut off their sandwiches.”

“No one wants to eat hard bread, Patton,” Virgil said.

“Is that so, Virgil?” Virgil nodded before he flopped his leg out of his brothers’ hands.

“Why are you positioning my leg for me, I’m not paralysed.”

“I don’t trust you to not give up early,” Patton said immediately. Virgil let out a scandalised gasp.

“Oi! You’re right, but hey!” Patton laughed, picking back up his brother's leg and finished the last exercise on his back. 

“Okay, turn over. You’re gonna have to hold these yourself,” Patton said.

“I thought you said you’d help me!” Virgil whined.

“I basically just did your exercises for you!”

“Basically and literally are not the same thing,” Virgil said. “You’re dating Logan, you should know this!” 

“Hush you, and finish up, I’m hungry.”

“And I’m not?” Patton gave Virgil ‘The Look’. Virgil sighed. “I’m sorry for taking my frustrations out on you, that isn’t fair.”

“Thank you. And I’m sorry if I’m making you feel rushed.” Virgil sighed.

“It's fine. And hey, only two more to do.” Patton nodded. The hardest, by far, was the first one. it was an awkward position, making it hard to take deep breaths, and it hurt the most. Patton coached him through his last two before Virgil sighed, flopping down onto the ground. “That sucked.”

“Pancakes?”

“Uh, yes. With blueberries?”

“And maple syrup.” Virgil hollered before slowly standing up. He walked (hobbled) down the stairs and into the kitchen. “So, coffee?” Virgil nodded using a chair to lift himself onto the counter, not trusting his arms or hip. Patton grabbed a glass and a pain pill before handing both to his brother. “30 minutes before your meal please.” Virgil rolled his eyes but took the pill and swallowed it down. Patton began on the batter, getting all the ingredients into the bowl before handing it to his brother. “I’m gonna call work on the landline.”

“What excuse you gonna use.”

“I’m deciding between ‘I’m sick’ or ‘fuck you and your contract hours, I got more important shit to do’. Which is more convincing?” Virgil laughed.

“That’s two dollars in the swear jar.”

“How many times have I forgiven you curses?”

“Me? Curse? I’m an angel.”

“No, you’re a pain in the behind.”

“Pattooooooon!” Patton shook his head and grabbed the landline. 

“Mix,” he instructed before dialling the number and leaving the room. Virgil stuck his tongue out at his brother but began mixing.

“Alexa, play Patton’s breakfast tunes at volume 4 please.”

“Playing ‘Patton’s breakfast tunes’ on Spotify now,” The machine replied. ‘Dog Days Are Over’ by Florence + the machine began to play through the kitchen speakers. Virgil had just about combined the ingredients by the time Patton came back. 

“Any troubles?”

“Nope, Jessie answered the phone, and he’s chill with anything. He said he'd called Katie and she could take my shift, I just had to take her shift next Tuesday but I definitely needed to be in tomorrow - something about a big meeting, ah well.” Patton said. “This looks nearly ready. Finish that off, imma just get the pan.” Patton walked away before noticing the clock. “Later than I thought,” He mumbled. Virgil looked at the clock. It was about half one.

“How long did I sleep for?”

“I went to wake you at like half twelve, so I guess the timing does make sense.” Virgil nodded, handing the mixed batter to his brother. The two silently made breakfast - well, Patton made breakfast, humming alone to his playlist, while Virgil watched before getting up and setting the table. He yawned again, the pain in his hip moving from a stabbing pain to a dull ache. He plopped down on his chair - the only chair with a cushion for times like these. Patton smiled, handing him his plate as the two tucked into their lunch. Virgil had tried to offer to clean up, but Patton insisted he stayed sitting.

“It hurts whether I stand, lay or sit,” Virgil said. “I might as well help.”

“It's okay, I can handle this.” Virgil sighed but moved to the sitting room, setting up Disney+ on the TV. “What are we watching?” Patton asked, returning to the sitting room.

“Princess and the Frog?” Patton giggled.

“You just wanna stare at Prince Naveen,” Patton teased, handing Virgil an ice pack.

“Well, duh,” Virgil said. “Also, the songs are awesome.”

“Can’t argue there.”

-x-

The credits rolled around 4 pm and Patton was napping on Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil had switched off the current move for Black Cauldron. Patton stirred awake slowly at around 5 pm.

“Oh shoot, what time is it?” Virgil looked up at the clock beside him.

“About 5 past 5.” Patton nodded before sitting up and stretching. “What has you so tired?”

“Stayed up watching Parks and Rec,” Patton said.

“Haven’t you memorised that show by now?”

“Just about-” The doorbell rang, causing Patton to pause. Confusion took over his face before he cursed.

“Damn it, I forgot I asked Logan to come over yesterday for dinner,” Patton said and this was followed by more intense doorbell ringing. Virgil groaned.

“And I was supposed to go to the movies with the twins and Janus!” They both looked at each other, debating whether to open the door before a key turned in the lock. “Logan has a key?!”

“No!” Patton said. “I just, uh, told him where the spare key was.” Virgil shook his head but soon the house filled with Janus, Remus and Roman, screaming and Virgil for not responding to their texts and Logan asking Patton if he was ready to go to dinner. The group entered the room, noticing the two boys' guilty faces.

“Uh, Lo, about tonight-”

“No Pat, you go, I can, uh, just watch a movie and order pizza,” Virgil said.

“Virge-”

“It’s fine pat, I’ll take another pill and-”

“Oh, is your hip acting up again?” Logan asked and Virgil’s face burned. He kinda maybe hadn’t told the others about his hip issues. In his defence, he hadn’t had a bad blow out in months and it usually only lasted for two to three months maybe twice a year. He was also good and hiding bad days but today was too bad to hide.

“Your... hip?” Roman asked, looking down to the melted ice pack. Patton looked at Virgil and quickly realised he hasn’t told them.

“Yeah, he’s got a bad bruise there!” Patton said, trying to cover for him.

“Oh, okay,” Roman said. Logan shook his head.

“No, this is the muscle issues caused by his childhood condition. Why are you lying Patton?” Logan asked. Virgil wanted to bury himself further into his hoodie but he couldn’t because that would involve moving his hips.

“Logan,” Patton said softly, taking the boys arm. “let’s go to the kitchen?”

“Oh no, I said something-”

“No, sweetheart, it's okay.” Patton took the melted ice pack, gave Virgil a look that said ‘call me if you get scared’, and gently guided Logan into the kitchen. There was silence in the room.

“So,” Janus said.

“What did Logan mean?”

“Funny story actually, so uh, I had this like... bone thing when I was and it meant I was in a lot of pain so I didn’t really walk, like, at all for a year. It went away which is good, but it means that because of that, my muscles are weak and just like, throw up a fuss a lot, so it’s sort of a bitch and there’s nothing I can do a lot of the time. On bad days, I just have to stay put and not move for as long as possible.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Janus asked and Virgil couldn’t meet his eyes, he just couldn’t.

“Uh well, with Patton, it just sometimes feels like it’s all we talk about and with you guys-” he gestures to where he thinks they’re standing "- It’s different. Because you didn’t know, you weren’t always asking me and while I love it when Pat does it, it makes me feel overwhelmed and like the only thing people see is this ‘poor kid’. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“Well, if I’m honest, I’m not mad. I’m a little upset you didn’t trust us-”

“It’s not about trust. I trust you all with my life, but it’s... it’s different. I know you all wouldn’t see me differently but... I don’t know how to explain it, it’s like, I know, logically, it wouldn’t change anything, but there are days like these where I am not fun to be around and am in bad moods, and people take that personal. Or people think I’m lying because I could go nearly a year without my muscles getting inflamed. It’s not a constant pain, it’s more of a recurring problem with my muscles that gives me pain.” There was silence,

“I know you’re very anxious right now, but I hope you know you’re a dumbass,” Remus said. “What?! He is sometimes.”

“What Remus is trying to say-”

“I know what I said Jan,” Remus pointed out.

“Shut up, you loch ness monster,” Roman said.

“Okay, Prince Charming from Shrek,” Remus said.

“Very specific insult must’ve taken you months due to a lack of brain cells,” Roman quipped back.

“At least I haven’t got your face!”

“We’re twins-”

“I have a moustache-”

“I will kill you-”

“I’d like to see you try-”

“GUYS!” Janus said, shouting over the pair. “Ignore those two dumbasses, we know this is a scary thing so we’re - well, I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t say anything.”

“It’s like, the less I talk about it, the less I’m worried about it,” Virgil explained.

“Okay, now that I get,” Remus said.

“You’re a dunce,” Roman said, shaking his head. “But yes, hot topic, we’re not mad. Also, the movie we were going to see what awful, why did you let Janus pick?”

“Because it was my turn.”

“Well, who wants to watch a movie about cults?”

“For the love of god Remus, a ‘cult classic’ doesn’t mean an actual cult,” Janus said, holding his head in frustration.

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Remus said, trying to get a rouse out of the other two, who were staring at him dumbfounded. he winked at Virgil causing the boy to laugh.

“You are a dunce,” Virgil said.

“Noooo, don’t say that you have to love me!” Remus said, throwing himself (somewhat carefully) onto the emo.

“Get off me,” Virgil said, laughing. Patton reappeared with cups and soft drinks at that moment.

“Okay, since Logi-bear-” the twins giggled at the nickname, but were met with Logan’s glare behind Patton’s back “-was your ride, we figured we’d order pizza and watch movies here.”

“Sounds good,” they all said.

“As long as Virgil and Remus share a pizza. Virgil will want peppers and Remus will want pineapple and I was that kind of neggies vibes AWAY from me,” Roman said dramatically. Both boys giggled.

“That’s okay with us, princy.”

-x-

It was an hour later by the time their four pizzas arrived - Logan and Patton’s vegetarian, Janus and Roman with a chicken, pepperoni and mushrooms and finally with Virgil and Remus’ Hawaiian pizza with chicken and peppers. It wasn’t until they were all curled up (Logan resting his head on Patton’s shoulder, their hands intertwined, Roman with his head on Janus’ lap as the boy played with his hair and Virgil on Remus’ lap) and safe that Virgil let the relief and love that surrounded the room.

Yeah, he hated those days, but he loved his friends. He loved Patton, and Logan, because they had always felt like his parents. He loved Janus, who always knew the right thing to say, and Roman, who always knew the right thing to get Virgil out of his head, and Remus, who knew how to make him laugh so hard he forgets to breathe.

“Why have you got that dumb face?” Remus asked.

“My face isn’t dumb,” Virgil whispered back. Remus rolled his eyes. Virgil only smiled, letting the sleepiness catch up as he fell asleep.

Today wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

Uh,, so this was my rant post and also a lil’ one shot i had. It’s based on personal experience, so if it’s confusing, sorry. I spend like a week on this lol, so enjoy!

[dreamss-of-boston]

Rise - ch6

hoo boy this chapter is hella long! i had fun writing it tho, the scenery looks v pretty in my head! the songs in this chapter are traditional germanic folk songs which i thought fit the world pretty well considering aot/snk is supposedly set in a germanic sort of historical world?? or thats what i heard,, pls correct me if im wrong! (i got the english translations for these songs from this website) additionally, the song i envision dimitri playing after the folk songs is andalucia in d major-- while its a spanish song, i just love it so much! you can listen to it here. and i promise all of the new characters introduced are relevant to the overall story! and now i promise i will shut up hehe ok thank u for reading love u bye!

-the spark-

link on AO3!

“I don’t understand why I had to pack four days’ worth of clothes.” Sonya commented as she got into the carriage with Hange and Moblit. After a full day of cleaning the stables and the showers as her punishment for getting cheeky with Captain Levi, Sonya was very sore and rather cranky that she had to leave her cozy HQ to spend at least two days in the capitol.

“The MPs and Parliament like to drag their feet when it comes to making decisions,” Hange sighed as she sat opposite Sonya, and Moblit took his seat beside Hange. “It’s always best to be prepared and pack more than you might need-- I found that out the hard way when they delayed approving Erwin’s new navigation system. We were only supposed to be there three days, but it took them a week and a half to decide!”

“A week and a half?!” Sonya exclaimed in dismay.

“Don’t worry-- the first day will be easy. It’s kind of a buffer.” Moblit assured her. “We’ll get settled in at their HQ in the guest quarters, and then meet with the officials around dinner time.”

“The real adventure comes tomorrow,” Hange said excitedly, “When we can debate the issue in front of Darius Zackly. He has the ultimate verdict on whether we can go ahead with the mission or not.”

“Since this is so monumental,” Moblit added, “representation for all three branches of military will be there. There’ll be some new recruits there, too, who were from your class-- so you won’t be completely alone.” He said helpfully.

Sonya nodded, looking out the window of the carriage at the rising sun. It was always so beautiful seeing the pastel blue and yellow the sky turned as the world awoke-- she only wished she could see the sun rise without the walls being in the way.

“How long will it take for us to get there?” She asked.

“Hm, just over three hours.” Hange said, leaning back into her seat. “Perfect for a nap.”

“She can sleep anywhere.” Moblit chuckled, and Sonya smiled. Her mood was slightly lifted despite the fact that she had to be awoken at four in the fucking morning to pack and get ready to leave. She did feel a bit comforted that when they arrived, they wouldn’t jump straight into court and start debating. Sonya decided that Hange had the right idea, and she settled down as best she could in an attempt to sleep on the way there.

[-]

“Oi, wake up, brat.”

Sonya made a face of utter disgust as she woke from her nap-- she was slumped against the side of the carriage, and as she opened her eyes, she first saw Levi, leaning against the opening of the carriage, pulling his hand away from gently slapping her cheek to wake her. Behind him, the sun was shining and Hange and Moblit were laughing.

“Wow, you sleep even deeper than Hange!” Moblit exclaimed. “We were practically yelling at you to wake up.”

“Did you not sleep at all last night?” Hange joked as Sonya just about fell out of the carriage, gripping Levi’s arm for support-- which he allowed, much to Moblit’s surprise.

“I slept just fine-- I just had an exhausting day yesterday on account of me being a dumbass.” Sonya sighed, looking at Levi pitifully. She thought she saw the beginnings of a smile on his lips, but he just scoffed and went to join Erwin in grabbing their things from the separate carriage they had ridden in.

The Survey Corps soldiers were escorted to their rooms-- Hange and Sonya were sharing a room, of course, and while this was all routine to the veterans, to Sonya, it was as if she had stepped into a castle.

The rooms were huge, first of all, and the bathroom had two sinks and a shower! The beds were incredibly soft-- Sonya wanted to sink into hers the moment she sat on it.

“Maybe staying here for a while won’t be that bad.” She sighed contentedly, stretching out luxuriously on the bed, her shirt hiking up and exposing part of her waist.

Hange laughed, dropping her bag of belongings on the floor before entering the bathroom to wash her hands.

Levi came to the doorway, knocking on the open door to make his presence known. Sonya looked to her left, and smiled mischievously when she noticed his gaze inadvertently trailed over her exposed skin.

“Did you want something, Captain?” She asked, dripping her voice in sarcastic seduction. Levi rolled his eyes, and seemed to refuse to look at her again as he spoke to both her and Hange.

“We’re meeting with them in about thirty minutes.” He said, and pointedly avoided Sonya’s gaze as he turned and left their room. Hange hollered confirmation that she got his message from the bathroom, and Sonya smiled to herself-- it was too much fun messing with Levi.

The four Survey Corps members met with the group of MPs in yet another beautiful room, with huge, framed paintings that Sonya couldn’t take her eyes off of. They discussed the pros and cons of the mission, the ground rules for the debate tomorrow, what time it would take place, and all that. The room seemed to be filled with tension, although Sonya could not understand why; but she could only guess that there was some sort of unspoken history between the three veteran Survey Corps soldiers and the three veteran MPs. The MP who had been part of Sonya’s class was called Olive Hammerstein-- a blonde, stuffy girl who Sonya remembered to be a sore loser. She hardly gave Sonya the time of day when they all entered the room at the start of the meeting; Sonya smugly suspected it was because she had beaten Olive all four times they had trained hand-to-hand.

When the meeting finally ended and all the logistics were out of the way, the sun had set and it was time for dinner. As the soldiers headed to the dining hall, they passed some MPs out of uniform who shrewdly reminded them that it was the weekend, and the dining hall was not open for dinner on the weekend. They were in civilians clothes because they were headed out to town to eat, much to the irritation of the Survey Corps soldiers.

“Well, there is that tavern in town we always used to visit-- what was it called, again?” Hange said.

“The Whistling Wind.” Erwin nodded with a smile.

“Mm, their soup is to die for!” Moblit sighed happily; and so it was decided. Sonya was particularly excited, and as she and Hange changed into their civilian clothes, she confessed that she had never been to a tavern above ground before.

“Really?” Hange exclaimed. “Oh, wow-- well, you’re in for a real treat. Taverns in the interior are the best.”

And off they went-- and soon they arrived at the fabled Whistling Wind.

The tavern was lit rather brightly, with candles littering the tables and hung upon the walls and from the ceiling in crude chandeliers. Sonya, in spite of herself, didn’t even attempt to hide her joy at the sight before her; even the taverns above ground were beautiful. During her training, she had never really gotten the chance to explore any towns much. When she and Anna did get the chance to venture off training grounds, it was usually to just retrieve supplies for the troops, so they didn’t get to explore the towns that much-- but they did explore the woods on the way.

It seemed as if everyone in the world were packed inside of the huge space, drinking wine out of goblets, laughing loudly and sharing in the gossip of the town. The smell of cigarette smoke hung in the air heavily, and spills and stains littered the wooden floor beneath her feet, but it was all so romantic to the small soldier. Here was life-- not survival, but thriving life.

She turned to Hange excitedly. “Is this how taverns are everywhere up here?”

“Oh, not really.” Hange said as their group made their way to a table that was unoccupied. “Most of the taverns near HQ are… eh, less high-class, I guess you could say.”

“Evenin’, folks.” A voluptuous red-headed barmaid came up to their table, hand on her hip and rouge on her cheeks. “What’re y’all havin’?” She reminded Sonya so much of Herschel.

“I’ll have whatever is the most popular thing!” Sonya called to her across the table and over the din.

“Meade it is, then.” The woman nodded.

“Wine for me,” Hange said.

“And me.” Moblit grinned.

“Nothing for me.” Erwin said, clearly not as enamored with his surroundings as Sonya was.

“Black tea.” Levi said, eyeing a rather nasty looking stain on the table.

“What was that, honey?” The barmaid asked, clearly unable to hear him.

“I said, black tea.” He said a bit louder, clearly irritated that she didn’t get it the first time.

The barmaid let out a loud laugh at the odd request. “Alright, honey. Comin’ right up.” And she left.

“Oh, wow, look!” Sonya stood up to see above the heads of the crowded tavern, pointing to the other side of the room at the rickety old piano up against a wall. “A real life piano!”

“Have you never seen a piano before?” Hange asked, amazed.

Sonya shook her head. “No, but Alexander-- er, a friend from the Underground showed me what they looked like in this old book he had about taking care of one.” She smiled, remembering sitting on the floor with Alexander as he showed her the plethora of the black and white keys, the little hammers inside the intricate instrument.

“I’ll hum a tune for you-- I don’t think your mother would let you out of this place to see one.” Alexander half-joked, and closed his eyes, extending his hands out in front of him as if the piano were really there. He began humming, his fingers moving curiously, and Sonya had watched him with rapture.

Levi raised an eyebrow at Sonya, while Hange looked as if she had stumbled upon a pot of gold.

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot you were raised in a brothel--” Hange stopped herself abruptly as the drinks came along with the barmaid, who passed them out in awkward silence. The barmaid was a little confused, but left the table when she was finished. “Er, sorry, Sonya-- I didn’t mean, uh, that is to say--”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sonya said through a smile, though it did sting a little, hearing that word. Sonya had only told Hange her situation, back then when she was recruited. She had obviously tried to keep where exactly she was raised a secret; it was enough of an issue that she came from the Underground. If her fellow soldiers knew she was the daughter of a whore…

“Oh, great.” Moblit nodded towards the door of the tavern, where a group of MPs had just entered. While they were in civilians clothes, the veteran soldiers present could recognize them from interactions in the past.

Unfortunately, Sonya recognized one as well: Kurt from the Underground. As soon as Sonya realized that was him, with his coiffed hair and overly-confident swagger, she sunk into her chair, almost hiding behind the huge flagon of mead in front of her. Great, first Hange bringing up where she was raised, and now Kurt entering the tavern? He was sure to embarrass Sonya if he recognized her.

“We should’ve guessed they’d come here.” Erwin sighed.

“There goes our fun night off.” Moblit took a swig of his wine.

“Maybe we should go…” Sonya said sadly, taking a pitiful sip of the sour drink in front of her. She was surprised to find that despite how foul it tasted, it made her feel very warm and fuzzy.

“You give up too easily.” Hange grinned, determined to fix Sonya’s mood. “The night is youn--”

She was drowned out as a chorus of singing began at the table next to them. A group of men, clearly drunk and happy about it, were singing a folk song that Sonya was surprised to find that she knew.

“Love of the woods, love of the woods.

Fills my heart as none else could.

Dear little songbirds there, voice songs that fill the air,

Singing out clearly their, love of the woods.”

The men repeated the song a second time, and Sonya couldn’t help but join in-- that was a song that Alexander had taught her! It filled her with a warmth that almost made her homesick for that little brothel she grew up in. As she sang along, she could almost smell the perfumed air, the smoke from candles and cigarettes. She imagined Alexander, lounging on a couch with her mother--

That left a sour taste in her mouth as she was abruptly brought out of her fantasies. The singing had come to an end, and the drunken men had noticed the pretty girl next to their table singing along with them.

“Hey, pretty lady.” One of them drawled, leaning over to get closer to her. He was old and ugly-- Sonya, being a professional flirter, had no interest in entertaining this man. Funny, she thought to herself, how her first instinct was whether or not she wanted to entertain him. She was her mother’s daughter, she reasoned.

Sonya shrunk back into herself, turning away-- one of the other men, younger and better looking, did not want to lose her attention.

“Uh, hey!” He called. “Do you know ‘Happy Is the Life of a Gypsy’?”

Sonya paused-- she did know that song, and it was one of her favorites. And this boy seemed to be a bit nicer…

“I do,” Sonya said, slipping into performance mode. “But I’ll only sing it if you sing with me.” She flashed him a smile, which she could see was exactly what he wanted. She knew how to play this game-- she had been taught how to win and manipulate it since she was thirteen years old.

“Now, just a minute!” Again, another man-- with brown curly hair and freckles-- stood drunkenly and proudly. “What’s a song without music?” And he made his way over to the piano.

“Oh, look at our regular show-off.” The young, attractive man rolled his eyes, although he was smiling. “Hey, wait!” He exclaimed as Sonya practically chased after him, desperate to hear what a piano sounded like in real life. She bet it couldn’t sound any better than Alexander’s humming.

“There she goes.” Hange laughed, delighted that Sonya was starting to enjoy herself.

“Should we stop her? I mean, what if those guys are bad news?” Moblit said.

“Let her do whatever she wants.” Levi shrugged. “Maybe she’ll tire out faster and then we can leave sooner.”

The curly-haired man took a seat at the piano, and the barmaid who served Sonya’s table smiled in delight.

“Everyone hush up a second; Dimitri is gonna play us a little somethin!” She bellowed, and the entire tavern slowly quieted; it seemed everyone here knew this Dimitri, and loved his music. Sonya stood by the piano, staring at him eagerly.

Dimitri raised his hands, and started to play. The music coming from this instrument was more beautiful than Sonya could have ever imagined-- the sound so full, it enveloped her whole being. She was so wrapped up in the music, she almost forgot to sing.

The handsome young man had made his way next to Sonya by the time the song started:

“Happy is the life of a Gypsy.  Fa-ria, fa-ria, ho!

To the taxmen, he pays not a penny.  Fa-ria, fa-ria, ho!

Happy, back in the woods, away.  Where the Gypsies so often stay.”

Filled with immense excitement and joy, Sonya couldn’t help but want to dance. She turned to the young man next to her, and grabbed his hands, pulling him to the small space reserved for dancing near the piano, and moved her feet in time to the pulsing music while she and the rest of the tavern sang the chorus. A few people even joined in dancing:

“Fa-ria, fa-ria, fa-ria, Fa-ria, fa-ria, fa-ria, ho!”

“My name’s Garrett!” The young man called over the din of the music and the tavern as he twirled a very happy Sonya. “What’s your name?”

Her mother would have advised Sonya to give a fake name-- a name prettier than the one she was born with, to easily indulge the fantasy of the young man before her. The fantasy about the mysterious, beautiful newcomer in this tavern who he would never see again. But this time, Sonya wasn’t interested in indulging any fantasies-- flirting was fun in its’ own rite, but she intended to limit the amount of influence her mother would have on her personal life.

“Sonya!” She said happily, and sang the last verse loudly with the rest of the tavern.

“When one does not have a featherbed.  Fa-ria, fa-ria, ho!

Dig yourself a shallow hole instead.  Fa-ria, fa-ria, ho!

Line it with some moss and leaves. That will then your featherbed be.

Fa-ria, fa-ria, fa-ria, Fa-ria, fa-ria, fa-ria, ho!”

And the tavern erupted in applause and hollering, much to Sonya’s delight. She turned to Dimitri at the piano, who had turned around, and drunkenly bowed to the crowd, obviously enjoying the attention.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Garrett said, wrapping his arm around Sonya’s hip in an attempt to turn her back around to him. However, he underestimated how strong Sonya was thanks to her training in the Corps, as she pulled away from him easily.

“Thank you,” She said distractedly, and went over to Dimitri, with stars in her eyes. “Play another one!”

“Oh, sure!” Dimitri beamed. “But only if you give me a kiss.” He said playfully.

Sonya huffed in annoyance. It sure would be nice to enjoy things without the attachment of her being a sexual object to everything she enjoyed.

“Don’t be so sour!” Dimitri laughed, sitting back down at the piano. “I’m only joking.” And he began playing a piece entirely unfamiliar to Sonya. His hands travelled across the black and white terrain of the piano, leaping from chord to chord gracefully. She watched, entranced.

“What are the words to this one?” She asked-- now that Dimitri was playing, the tavern was again quieting down in respect.

“Hm, there are none,” Dimitri said, his eyes closed contentedly. “The music speaks if you listen.”

And Sonya did listen-- she felt the music wrap around her limbs, clutch her heart, and flow over her like a veil. Dimitri took a look at her out of the corner of his eye, observing her knowingly.

“Dance if you want,” He said. “I think you’re dying to.”

That made Sonya smile a little-- she wasn’t sure how he could tell until she glanced down, noticing her feet had begun making miniscule movements almost on instinct. It seemed the music was actually calling her to dance, giving her invisible counts like how Alexander would whisper: one, two, three, four, five, six…

So, with a bit of reckless abandon, Sonya began to dance. She made it up as she went along-- the music would tell her what to do. An arpeggio, she would pirouette; held out chords, and she would slowly move to the next position, her arms gliding through the air. She moved with precise flexibility, every movement feeling as natural to her as breathing. It was so incredibly freeing to abandon all thought-- all grief for Anna, stress about capturing a titan, embarrassment about Kurt resurfacing from her past-- and simply dance, allowing the piano’s beautiful, foreign sound to influence what already came naturally to her.

Dimitri finished playing, and Sonya finished dancing; and all was quiet. It seemed that everyone was stunned, and the lack of response made Sonya incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. Was dancing like that not normal above ground? Was it offensive? Did she look like a fool?

But then-- someone in the back of the tavern began clapping, and then another, and another, until the whole room was applauding Sonya and Dimitri. Sonya let out a little laugh, incredibly relieved that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Dimitri asked, now having joined her side.

“My…” Sonya wasn’t sure what to call Alexander. “My friend from childhood. He taught me.”

“He’s an amazing teacher.” Dimitri said, his cheeks red from all the wine he had drank. With a hiccup, he clasped Sonya’s hand, raising it in the air. Sonya tensed up, almost completely going into defense-mode at the foreign contact.

“What are you doing?” She snapped, but Dimitri only brought their hands down together, taking her with him in an elaborate bow to the tavern.

“You’ve gotta relax.” Dimitri flashed her a dopey smile as they came back up to stand. “If you ever wanna dance again, I’d be happy to play for you.” And he brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly before stumbling back to the bar to get more drinks.

Sonya felt a blush heat up her face and chest, and as she made her way back to the table with her fellow soldiers, she found that she couldn’t stop smiling. She hadn’t danced in so long!

“Sonya!” Hange exclaimed. “What in the world was that? You were amazing!”

“Thank you!” Sonya put her hands on her cheeks, feeling how warm she had become. “I was so afraid that nobody knew what I was doing or something-- I’ve never seen how you all dance up here.” She laughed, taking a look at Levi; she wanted to know what he thought.

He was taking a sip of his tea, and caught her gaze, surprised that she was looking at him expectantly. Just as he was opening his mouth to speak, a certain someone had crept up behind Sonya and placed his hands on her shoulders in an overly-familiar gesture.

“Sonya, sweetheart!” Kurt exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “Never thought I’d see you on the surface-- but I guess you did make it through training, after all…”

Sonya whipped around to face him; she would recognize that voice anywhere. She narrowed her eyes as he sat in the empty chair next to her, making everyone uncomfortable.

“Say, Herschel was askin’ me about you,” Kurt continued, well aware that he was being a pest. “She just couldn’t understand why you-- hic-- left! She was real hurt.” He pouted his lip, and Sonya looked away, feeling like she had been stabbed in the gut. She could just picture Herschel, with her dark, silky hair and comforting embrace, sitting at the kitchen table where she taught Sonya how to play and cheat at cards. She saw her mother sitting with her there, smoking a cigarette with the sly smile she shared with Sonya. She missed Herschel-- she even missed her mother. But… she had to leave that awful place.

“Well… I had to get out of there.” Sonya muttered.

“Y’know, I never did get the chance to give you a proper birthday present…” Kurt said, running his finger along her bare arm. Sonya caught that, and made a move to grab his wrist with the intent of breaking his arm, but before she got the chance to, Levi was already standing and had grabbed Kurt by the lapel of his jacket. Despite the height difference, Levi had pinned him up against the wall-- the disturbance caught the attention of the tavern, and everyone looked on in alarm.

“L-Levi!” Kurt exclaimed, surprised to come face-to-face with the infamous Survey Corps Captain in a tavern like this.

“You’re annoying as all hell.” Levi said in a low voice-- Sonya saw that his eyes were dark, and not just because of the lighting. “I’ll thank you not to lay hands on my cadet again.” He let him go, and stood back to give Kurt free passage back to his posse of MPs.

Kurt, despite being inebriated, understood very clearly. He hurried away like a punished dog, and Levi let out a sigh.

“I think it’s time for us to leave.” Erwin said just as the barmaid came over to put an end to what could have been a potential fight. “Thank you for the pleasant evening.” He left money on the table, and the four Survey Corps soldiers exited the tavern without another word.

[-]

“Awh, I never even got to eat my soup!” Moblit complained as they walked through the brightly lit streets back to HQ.

“I’m really sorry…” Sonya said, looking down in shame.

“Hm? Sorry for what?” Hange asked incredulously. “Oh-- you mean Kurt? Well, it was Levi’s decision to cause a commotion in the first place,” She cast a playful glare to her friend, “and in the second place, it’s not your fault that creep came on to you like that. I’m surprised you didn’t break his arm.”

“I would have,” Sonya said, and knocked her elbow with Levi’s, “if my knight in shining armour hadn’t come to my rescue.”

Levi sighed, quite annoyed with all this extra attention. “Can we figure out what we’re going to do about food, please? I’m starving.”

“Check it out! A street vendor!” Hange exclaimed, pointing to a small stand, with delicious-smelling steam rising from it.

“Oh, it smells so good!” Moblit cried, and it was then decided that they would be getting their dinner from there.

Sonya got the roasted brussels sprouts and carrots-- they were delicious! She let out an emphatic, “Mmmm!” as soon as she ate one, even though it sort of burned her mouth.

“Oh, can I try one?” Hange asked excitedly, abandoning her vegetable fried rice. Sonya nodded emphatically, and held one out for her to bite. Hange, amused by this strange way of offering food, nonetheless accepted happily. “Ohh, they are good!”

Sonya laughed, wiping her hand on her skirt. “Want to try one? You’ve been eyeing them,” She held one out to Levi, with her signature grin. He glanced at her; he had gotten the fried rice, as well. With a glance at Hange, he knew he would have to accept the food in the same way she had-- though inwardly, he decided it wasn’t all that bad.

With a shrug, he nodded (much to Sonya’s delight). She smiled, and brought the little vegetable up to his mouth, and as he bit down, his lips brushed with her fingertips for just a moment, causing Sonya’s breath to hitch. He held her gaze as he chewed, and raised his eyebrows in approval.

Sonya smiled, glad that he liked the food she liked, and just as she was about to look away, he brought his thumb up to the corner of her mouth, wiping away some of the sauce from the brussels sprouts. Her skin felt red-hot where he had just touched her, and she fought back a blush with all her might. This was definitely payback for her comment as she laid on her bed earlier.

“You’re a mess.” He shook his head. She smiled, and bit the inside of her lip to keep from giggling like a complete idiot. Erwin, Hange, and Moblit pretended they didn’t see a thing.

[-]

The walk back to HQ was relatively peaceful, now that they were fed and relatively happy. Hange and Erwin were discussing their debate tactics for tomorrow, with Moblit listening intently at Hange’s side. Levi and Sonya walked behind the three in silence-- Levi staring at the ground, Sonya gazing at all the houses and buildings on either side of them.

She glanced at Levi, and felt she needed to actually thank him for earlier.

“Um, thanks,” She said awkwardly, “for earlier. It was nice to see Kurt scared shitless.”

Levi half-smiled, nodding. “He is an ass.” He kicked a rock in his path, which went scuttling across the cobblestone street. “I know his kind-- so many of those MPs visit the whores Underground.”

Sonya winced at that word; if Hange and the Survey Corps hadn’t come along when they had, she would have been one of those whores forced to pleasure those disgusting MPs. She looked down, avoiding saying anything to indicate that it bothered her.

Levi noticed, though-- he cleared his throat. “You know, my mother was--” He halted, glancing at Sonya who glanced at him. From the look on his face, she understood. She couldn’t help but be surprised.

“Oh.” She nodded. “To be honest, I thought you came from some noble family that bred assassins.”

Levi let out a quick breath through his nose; Sonya assumed that was his way of laughing. “No. I came from the Underground.”

“Oh!” Sonya almost stopped dead in her tracks-- that was incredibly surprising. Although, now that she studied him upon closer inspection, he did carry himself like the gang members Underground; as if he were expecting an attack at any moment, calmly aware of everything on all sides. That was probably why he was such a skilled killer, she thought solemnly. Their conversation had taken a heavy turn-- she hated that. So, she fixed it in the best way she knew how: humor. Sonya playfully linked arms with a surprised Levi. “It’s like we’re made for each other.” She sighed as they ascended the steps leading in to HQ.

Sonya laughed, leaving Levi’s side to follow Hange down the hallway to their room. Before she completely separated from him, though, she spun around to face him once more.

“Oh, and at least I learned some valuable information tonight!” She said happily, hoping he would catch on her hook and play along. With a half-smile, Levi crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall of HQ-- he looked incredibly sly, standing like that in the flickering torch light.

“And what’s that?”

“I’m your cadet.” Sonya lowered her voice and gave him the most sultry look she had, one that Herschel taught her: draped eyelids, pouted lips, head tilted back and to the side, and for extra emphasis, she placed her hand on the wall next to him, and dragged it down, holding eye contact as she performed the overly-dramatic display of seduction. She laughed at herself, breaking character almost instantly, and spun around, walking back to her room (though she walked a bit more with her hips this time).

And Levi smiled to himself, making his way back to his own room, thinking to himself how amusing Sonya had just been (and how he kind of liked it).

[sinsiriuslyemo]

New episode of Cuba v DR!! Thank you guys so very much for all the comments/likes/reblogs! They make our day! Keep them coming!

EPISODE 15

“Papi! I want more mac-rone-ee,” Lily whined, she'd very quickly adapted to the pampered lifestyle.

“Okay, princesa. It’ll take me a few minutes to make,” he warned, waiting to hear if she wanted something that would take less time.

“No, want it now,” she whined and sat up starting to cry. She hadn't slept well and she was cranky. “I want talk to Eddie,” she sobbed.

“Bueno, let me call him and you guys can talk while I make your mac and cheese,” Nevada answered, pulling out his phone and dialing Eddie.

“Hey tio,” Eddie said with a smile. “What's up?”

“Nothing, Lily wanted me to call you so she could talk,” Nevada answered. “How’s everything? How’s school?”

“Great! I was actually going to call you later in this week. My final got rescheduled to this week so I was going to come down and surprise Tia and the kids,” he chuckled a bit. “I figure even after all these years, I probably can't surprise you, but Tia and the monsters are easy to fool.”

“Alright, that’s fine,” Nevada replied. “Oye, you gonna be able to go to your tio Rafael’s wedding?”

“Yeah of course, I wouldn't miss it. Roxie's hot,” he smirked. “How are you? I miss you guys…”

“We’re good. Lily just had to get her appendix out. Tres got taken, but he’s okay. All considered, we’re doing pretty good,” Nevada answered, shrugging. “How’s things with Greyson, good?”

“What? Why didn't anyone call me? I would have come down!” Eddie said with genuine concern in his voice. “We're broken up actually, I ran into an old friend on spring break and things just clicked so I've been with them.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I liked Greyson,” Nevada mused. “Y chico, we know you’re at school, you need us to call you every time something happens. If we hadn’t found Tres when we did, we would’ve called.”

“What about Lily? I should have been there for her,” he said with a frown. “I can be down by tomorrow, take some time off and see you all. If she wants to talk to me, I should go see her.” Eddie had always felt very responsible for Lily. He didn't see her as a cousin, he saw her as a sister.

“Chico, it’s just an appendix, she’s fine,” Nevada replied, brows in waves.

“PAPI!!! MAC-RONE-EE!!!!” Lily shouted almost angrily.

“Ogiste eso? Jodiendo todavia, she’s fine,” Nevada said to Eddie. “Come down whenever you want, pero she’s fine.”

“I wanna be there for her, besides, I wanna visit some people while I'm down there.” He looked at the clock. “Can I talk to Lily? I don't have long before class and I wanna talk to my sister.” The word sister was filled with so much love.

“Yeah, hold on.” Nevada moved to hand Lily the phone and go downstairs to make her food.

“Hello brother,” Lily said.

“Hi Lilypad, I miss you, I heard you had to go to the doctor. How are you feeling?”

“I fine, just hungry. Papi take forever to make mac-rone-ee. When you come home?” she asked.

“I was thinking about coming home for the weekend, would you like that?” he said with a gentle smile. “I could take you to the arcade or the park, we can play games, it'll be fun.”

“Okay. You bring Greyson?” she inquired.

“Nah, he and I aren't together anymore, I have a girlfriend now, but I'll tell Greyson you said hi, we're still good friends.”

“You like girls again? You confusing me!! Pick one!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Her young mind had not yet grasped the concept of not needing to choose between men and women if it just wasn’t who you were.

He laughed, “I'm sorry mi amor, but I can't make up my mind,” he closed his eyes and smiled. “I have to go, but I'm gonna be home soon, I love you Lilypad.”

“Luh you too,” she answered, hanging up and not hesitating to scream at the top of her lungs, “PAPIIIIII!!!!!!! MAC-RONE-EE CARAJO!!!!”

“OYE! NO ME GRÍTES, CARAJO! Y NO DIGAS CARAJO!!” he hollered back.

You came into the house with the twins, Fiona happy to walk but NJ clinging tight to your chest. Fiona walked right up to Nevada, tugging his pants.

“Cookie?”

“We don’t have any mi amor,” he answered. “You want a popsicle? Brownie?”

“Bow-nee?” She held out her little hand waiting with her usual serious face.

“Dama get her a brownie, while I finish this mac and cheese before Lily has a fucking heart attack,” he said to you, turning back to the pot.

“Bow-nee mama,” NJ said too, holding his hand out to you and wiggling until you set him down.

You smiled and got them both a brownie bite, handing them each one and staring at them expectantly.

“And what do we say?” You quirked a brow.

“Fank-yoo,” Fiona mumbled and NJ nodded.

“Fank-yoo mama.”

“Coño, two little angels,” Nevada mused with a smirk as he scooped the mac and cheese into a bowl. “Let me bring this to her majesty,” he mumbled, going to bring the dish up to Lily.

You followed him upstairs to check on Lily after leaving the twins in front of an episode of Sesame Street.

“Mama! Eddie coming to visit!” she shrieked excitedly as she grabbed the mac and cheese and smiled.

“What? When?”

“This weekend,” she replied, happily digging into her food. “He with a girl now because he can’t make up he mind,” she added matter of factly.

You quirked a brow, “A girl? What happened to Greyson?” You frowned. “I liked Greyson.”

“They broke up,” Nevada mumbled to you.

“Okay, you talk some place else? I watching ET,” Lily said, her way of shooing you both out of her room.

“I don't know baby, last time you watched ET you had nightmares,” you reminded.

“I fine!” Lily groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Dejala mirar ET, chica,” Nevada chimed, looking at you.

You sighed and nodded as you went back downstairs just as the door opened and Amber strode in.

“Oye, Blanca did you pick the fucking lock?” Nevada asked as he descended the staircase.

“I have a key.”

She rolled her eyes as if that was obvious and moved over to you, handing you Fallon. You were more than happy to get the baby.

“So, Omar and I are currently…” she wasn't sure how to put it but she shot Nevada a deadpanned look. “Did he already say something to you? I don't want to go through the pain of saying it if you both know already.”

“Como que say something? It’s none of my fucking business,” Nevada replied, shrugging his shoulders as he moved to sit with the twins. “Ven aca, I missed you guys,” he mumbled softly.

“Hey, what happened?” you whispered to her as you moved close, holding her hand with your free arm.

Amber's bottom lip trembled, “I can't say it,” she whispered and pressed her face against your neck.

You pulled her close immediately, “hey, it's okay, shhhhh,” you soothed as Fallon started to whine at the sight of her distressed mother.

“Oye, you’re upsetting the baby,” Nevada mused.

“Tee Banca cwy,” NJ observed.

Amber pulled back from you, wiping her eyes and pulling Fallon close to her, kissing her face until she smiled.

“It's okay,” she cooed.

“Where are you staying?” you said with a frown.

“I'm gonna rent an apartment close to your mom and Gladys, they both agreed to help me with the baby. Omar still wants to be a part of her life. Although he doesn't know I'm moving back to Manhattan yet, we haven't talked much.”

“Esperate, you’re moving out too?” Nevada asked, arching a brow at her. “He told me he moved out yesterday, so what’s gonna happen to the apartment in Jersey City?”

“I don't want to live in Jersey, it's not my home. So it's going up for sale.” Amber rocked Fallon. “If I'm raising her as a single mom, I'm going to be near my family, not out in Jersey.”

“You won't raise her alone though, you have us, and Omar wants to be a huge part of her life right?”

She nodded but looked down at her hands.

“Oye, I don’t mean to sound like a dick, pero you’re acting like he’s walking out on you. Like it’s all on him,” Nevada mused. “You were just as miserable as he was.”

“I was willing to try anything,” she said. “But I'm not blaming him, we both decided this. No one is at fault here.”

“Could’ve fooled the shit outta me,” he mumbled.

“Nevada,” you said seriously, shooting him a look before you moved with Amber to the kitchen, pouring her a glass of wine and sitting down with her.

“I can't drink,” Amber said with a soft smile.

“Oh, well, I'll drink a glass for both of us.”

She snorted softly, lightly bouncing Fallon on her lap.

“He was right about one thing,” she mumbled with a frown. “We were miserable.”

“If he doesn't see how amazing you are then he doesn't deserve you,” she whispered.

“That’s the thing, he does. He just wasn’t happy anymore...neither was I,” she answered, shrugging softly. “He doesn’t want Fallon to grow up thinking that’s what a marriage is supposed to be like.”

“Well what are you gonna do now?” you asked as you finished her glass of wine as well.

“I guess I could start writing the book I’ve already been paid for,” she replied with a soft laugh. “Take care of Fallon, co parent with Omar.”

“Fuck Troy,” you said non-chalantly.

Amber made a face and laughed, “What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, one of us has to. And it can't be me.”

“No, I’m not gonna fuck Troy,” she replied, though she would’ve been lying if she’d said she hadn’t thought about it.

“If you say so, but it would be taking one for the team. All those looks and muscles and no one is touching him, it's a damn crime.”

Amber couldn't help but chuckled, “It is a shame…”

“See? There's a smile,” you kissed her hands and poured yourself another glass of wine, “I gotta put my kids to bed, do you wanna stay for dinner?”

“I can't, I'm going to go back to the apartment and start packing.” She stood and gave you a huge hug, balancing Fallon on her hip. “Can we have a girls day soon?”

“Yes, most definitely!” You agreed as you hugged back and walked her to the door before turning to Nevada and making eye contact with him, chugging the third glass of wine and looking him over.

“What?” he asked when he realized you were staring while the twins continued to build a tower with the legos he’d taken out.

“It's close to nap time,” you said after a long moment. “Are you going out? I was hoping for some mami y papi time…”

“No, I just gotta have my phone on,” he answered.

“Okay then, hey guys, it's time for your nap,” you picked both toddlers up and moved to carry them upstairs, tucking them both in. Your kids were surprisingly good at naps.

“Mama, bes,” NJ puckered his lips and you smiled giving him and then his sister a kiss before closing the door. You loved them so much.

When you made it back down the stairs, you tugged your dress up, getting it stuck over your head.

“Ow, ow, this is not as sexy as I'd pictured,” you tugged at the dress trying to get free.

“What are you doing?” Nevada asked in a soft chuckle, going to help you untangle your arms from the dress.

“I'm trying to seduce my sexy husband by disrobing and it's not working.”

“Oh, I thought you actually wanted to spend time with me, pero you just wanted to fuck me,” he replied playfully. “That’s all you want is some dick?” he teased again.

“No, no, no,” you whispered and put a hand over his mouth, smiling and giggling. “Shhhhh, don't be silly, every part of you is sexy, your smile, your eyes, the way you look at me.” You tugged him close and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I love you more every day.”

“That didn’t answer my question at all, mi hermana,” he replied with a smirk. “Nice try though.”

You smiled, “No, I don't just want some dick,” you said softly.

“Oh, okay,” Nevada replied. “What do you wanna do then? Wanna watch something? Or you just wanna lay and talk?” he asked, lightly pinching your chin.

You pouted a bit, “Well I wanted a little dick…but we can lay and talk,” you nodded. The wine had you horny, but you didn't want him ever feeling like you were using him.

“Well, you’re shit outta luck, cause I don’t got a little dick. You should know that by now,” Nevada replied, smirking. “Should go find Troy if you’re looking for a little dick.”

“Como que ‘Troy’? No estoy buscando un niño. Quiero un hombre.”

“Uh huh, so what was that you were saying to Amber about taking one for the team since you can’t?” he asked, his tone was still playful, smirk on his face.

“Oye, girl talk. You telling me you don't look over the mamacitas? Words are much different than actions papi and my actions have been taking off my dress para mi rei.”

“No, I don’t look over at any mamacitas,” he replied. “Girl talk ni un carajo. I’ve never heard you try to set Chelsea up. Eso fue confession time,” he toyed, giving you a spank.

“I've tried to set Chelsea up a few times! Not that she needs a man but once in awhile you gotta have a good dicking.”

“Good luck, I think she had her pussy sewn shut. I tried to set her up once, she didn’t like it,” he replied.

You shrug and look him over again, zoning out on his crotch.

“Oye, my eyes are up here,” he teased.

“Huh?” you mumbled before slowly pulling your gaze back to him. “Sorry, wine makes me horny.”

“Yeah, I see that,” he replied, looking you over. “Want me to eat you for a while?”

You shook your head, “It would be the second time I've had action in nearly a year, I'm not gonna do it casually, I want something special, or dirty.”

“The hell do I look like a fucking trick pony?” he teased. “And we’ve fucked more than once in a year, no jodas.”

“Twice, maybe,” you said with a smirk. “All I'm saying is my hand is cramping by the end of every evening.” You both knew you were joking, you were fine, but it felt good to play around again.

He chuckled softly, pulling you into a hug and groaning softly as he kissed your neck. Rubbing over your back, he pulled away to smile down at you. He tucked some hair behind your ear before he closed the space between you again to kiss your lips once, twice, and on the third time, he hummed, deepening the kiss and moving you towards the couch.

You smiled, melting against his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing back. It was slow, like the two of you were taking a moment to rediscover each other and it felt amazing. You felt yourself collapse back onto the couch, gently tugging him down and smiling broadly as the two of you looked at each other.

“Hola Guapo,” you whispered. He smirked and closed the gap between your lips again, tongue requesting entrance into your mouth.

You parted your lips without hesitation, a tiny whimper escaping your lips as you moved your fingers to play with his dark hair, legs moving to wrap around his waist.

He groaned against your mouth as his tongue tangled with yours, and one hand went to knead your breast, his hips carefully rocking against you when his body began to react. Moving his kisses down to your neck, he sucked on your pulse point and nibbled on the vein there.

You arched your back a bit, whimpering as you rocked up to meet his hips.

“I love you.”

“Love you too,” he mumbled against your neck as his fingers pinched your nipple.

You gasped, moaning a bit against his skin as you moved to kiss him again, biting his bottom lip and deepening the kiss. Groaning against you, he kissed you back and ground his hips harder against yours, biting down on your bottom lip.

Kissing his way down your frame, he bit down on your panties and pulled them off with his teeth, smirking lustfully down at your core before he dove in for a taste.

“Oh my god,” you gasped and tugged at his hair, arching up against his mouth. You were soaking wet already, he always knew how to turn you on with a single look but this was insane. Your whole body was screaming for him. “Nevada, that’s so good,” you whimpered.

He hummed against your sex, tugging you closer to him and eating you like a man starved while his hands held your hips firmly in place.

You couldn't help the noises that escaped your lips. Whimpers, moans and desperate pleas for more as you felt his tongue caress your clit.

It wasn't long before your breathing was labored, tugging tighter on his hair as you whined.

“I'm close, papi.”

He smirked around your clit, sucking it deeper into his mouth until he could see that you were just about to come before he suddenly pulled away, denying you that last push to send you over the edge. Kissing over your hip bones, he hummed against your skin, making a wet path down the inside of one of your thighs before he took your clit into his mouth again. He brought you so close you could taste your release, and pulled away suddenly again.

You half sobbed as you looked down at him, “Nevada,” your voice was a broken whisper. “Please papi, I'll do anything.”

He smirked up at you, inching closer to where you wanted him most.

“Only cause you said please,” he mumbled before he attached his mouth to the throbbing bundle of nerves again, continuing the stimulation this time.

You gasped, arching up and coming in seconds, tugging at his hair as you rode out your orgasm, breathless and desperate for more. You tugged him up immediately, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue.

He kissed you back, groaning against your mouth as he pressed his denim clad erection against you.

You moved until you were on top, kissing him as you unzipped his jeans and felt his cock spring free. You licked your lips and moved down his body until you were face to face with his member. You looked up at him seriously.

“You have no idea how wet I get thinking about sucking your cock,” you purred.

“Really?” he asked, arching a brow and smirking down at you.

You nodded eagerly and took him into your mouth, humming around his cock as you gripped his hips.

“Aw fuck,” he purred, smirking softly as he tilted his head back and reached down to thread his fingers in your hair.

You didn't hesitate, taking him down all the way once before focusing on teasing him, letting your tongue gently graze and trace over his shaft. You moaned around his cock.

He echoed your moans, rocking his hips up to meet the warm cavern of your mouth.

“Oye, don’t forget about the boys,” he said in a sigh.

You huffed a shy laugh around his cock before moving your hand down to cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze before massaging them in your hand as you deep throated him.

“Oh yeah,” he purred, bucking his hips up steadily against your mouth. “You like when I fuck your mouth, baby?”

You moaned and lightly massaged his balls as you licked and sucked passionately at his member, moaning and already feeling the slickness between your thighs once again. He growled again, letting you suck him for a few more precious moments before he reluctantly pulled you away. Moving to kiss you deeply, he brought your legs on either side of his hips, and laid you down on the couch. He reached down between your bodies and lined himself up with your entrance.

You kissed back, pulling him close as you pressed your face against his neck and whimpered.

“Nevada, I need you,” you whispered.

Pushing inside, he buried himself deep into your cavity, groaning softly and pressing his nose against your neck.

You gasped, trembling as you clutched tighter to him. “Oh god. Yes. I love you,” you whispered and held him tighter.

“Uh huh,” he groaned, moving harder against you and grunting against your skin.

You moved with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your heels into his back. He moved slightly faster inside you before getting up, turning you onto your hands and knees and entering you again, resuming his hard, fast pace.

“PAPI!!! WHAT YOU DOING?!?! I WANT ICE CREAM!!!” Lily shouted from her bedroom.

“No ice cream it's nap time,” you called back.

“NO NAP!! ICE CREAM! NOW!” she screamed back, causing Nevada to pause his movements as Lily’s yelling distracted him.

“No, you know the rules Iliana, no dessert or snacks, naptime is either quiet time or sleep time.”

“I NO TALKING TO YOU, PUTA!!!”

“OYE!!! YOUR MOM SAID NAP TIME!! NAP TIME, CARAJO!” Nevada boomed, whipping his head around to yell towards the stairs. ‘“I want a big family, Nevada,’” he said softer, his voice becoming nasally and high pitched.

“I do want a big family,” you whispered and rolled your hips, kissing his neck and moving a hand back to cup his ass.

“Yeah, that’s all good until they start messing up our fuckey time,” he groaned, beginning to move again.

“PAPIIIIIII!!!!”

He sighed, hips ceasing again as he groaned in frustration.

“Why do you always get to fucking come, and I don’t?” he asked.

“Hey!” You shout to Lily. “You make another peep and I'm going to spank you until you can't sit down for a week, are we clear? Papi is busy, if you don't stay in that room, so help me god Iliana, I'm not joking around!”

“I can’t, ya se me fue el momento,” he groaned, rolling his eyes and pulling out, stuffing his erection back into his jeans with a grimace.

You huffed, covering your face with your hands. You loved your daughter, but sometimes you didn't like her.

“Stay, I'm going to deal with herr.”

“Esta bien,” he mumbled.

[bad-end]

sandcastle | 3/5 | dlrg

3193 words

its literally been a month im sorry

Part III. Put to Bed With a Shovel

Tomorrow came as yesterday did, and Noblesse took her afternoon nap as she did everyday at 2:30. Unlike yesterday, Royal Guard slipped out for the cafe as soon as he saw the soft rise and fall of her chest.

He arrived ten minutes early, but Dreadlord had promised to treat him so he couldn't order a drink yet. What would he do then? He found an empty seat and waited.

Dreadlord's blue streak appeared in the window, and shortly after, the door to the cafe jingled. Royal Guard gave him a nervous smile he tried to pass off as less nervous than intended. Dreadlord wore a confident one in return.

"Sorry, did I make you wait?" Dreadlord ran a hand through his hair. When was the last time he combed that thing? It was quite a mess, and it could hardly be called hair.

"I just arrived, actually." Royal Guard offered him a comb from his bag, and Dreadlord pocketed it with a promise to comb it later.

"Did you order already?" Instead of going back to Royal Guard's seat, Dreadlord led him to the table there sitting at yesterday.

"Not yet."

"Oh, good. I'll go right now. What can I get you?”

Royal Guard glanced at the menu, "Black tea, one cream."

"'Kay, be back soon."

Royal Guard sat down at the table and glanced out into the ocean.

Of course, Dreadlord would invite a stranger out for tea. As long as he was interested and could get what he wanted out of it, Dreadlord would do anything.

"Here. Earth to Ciel, Earth to Ciel." Dreadlord slid the cup under his chin, and the scent made Royal Guard snap back to reality. He tore his gaze away from the ocean, though somewhat reluctant to do so.

Royal Guard stared at the cup on the table and after a moment, accepted it. "Thank you. Why did you look for me?"

Although he knew what the old Dreadlord would say, he didn't know about this new Dreadlord. He could see the words forming, 'Because I was interested in you'.

The one before him seemed to think about it, and finally settled on, "Because you seem like you'd be interesting. It's not everyday fancy visitors come to this town. I've said that before though, right?"

He did say that before.

"Do you track down everyone you find interesting?"

The Dreadlord in his mind: I don't find many people interesting.

The Dreadlord standing before him echoed those sentiments. "There's not much to be interested in here." As he said this, he leaned into his palm and stared at Royal Guard.

“Why invite me then? What do you find interesting about me?"

"I wanted to talk. Someone like you must have interesting stories. They don’t have to be good stories or anything, but I was curious about you." Dreadlord's gaze had fallen on his the cup on the table, running his finger over his name scrawled in permanent marker, "I've never left this town, so... let me live your lives just a little too. I want to see the world outside."

Royal Guard couldn't come up with an answer. Since the original's death, the house felt awful without Dreadlord's skulking shadow, and Chiliarch hollering at the top of her lungs. So, they had been traveling, never staying in one place for too long. There was no reason to.

Even if he could show Dreadlord the world outside, where does one begin to summarize the few hundred years between the original's death and the present?

This Dreadlord seemed so young and so inexperienced. Compared to his older counterpart, there was no gritty look in his yes. Honestly, Royal Guard felt a bit guilty, knowing what the other had been like but being unable to tell him.

  "How old are you?" Royal Guard didn't mean for the question to slip out.

Dreadlord gave him a stare that he couldn't read, "How old do you think I look?"

"Twenty....three?"

A smile curled onto Dreadlord's lips, "Close. I'm 24, actually. How old are you, Ciel?

"Twenty-seven." Give or take a thousand or so?

Still, twenty-four was older than expected. Without the contract, he thought Dreadlord not much older than a young adult.

"Twenty-seven and rich as hell, it must be nice." Dreadlord sighed and took a sip of his coffee.

"It's not-?

"Just kidding, you're more like... her partner in crime, right?"

Desperate to change the topic, Royal Guard shook his head, "You wanted to hear about the outside world, right? Would you like to hear about my adventures?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, of course!"

The stories Royal Guard tell capture Dreadlord's attention, he wore a look on his face that must have matched the look on the first human's face when he discovered fire. He was a child in a candy shop.

But the end of the hour approached, and at three thirty Royal Guard rose from his seat. "Thank you for the tea and the chat."

"It was lovely. I'll be here tomorrow if you want to come by again." Dreadlord wore his million dollar smile, "Think about it and let me know, okay?"

He made no promise of it when he left the cafe and hurried back to the Inn. Noblesse would be awake and be wanting her afternoon tea.

"Come back tomorrow," was what Dreadlord meant. In truth, Royal Guard wanted to be able to not go back and not feel guilty for it, but when it was Dreadlord, he would feel guilty if he didn’t go back. Noblesse wouldn't banter with him, and even if this one was younger, the schematics of what he could become were still obvious.

The day after, Royal Guard went back to the cafe. Dreadlord had commandeered a seat already, and when Royal Guard stepped through the door, he abandoned it to usher him to sit down. While Dreadlord went to get their drinks, Royal Guard stared out at the ebb and flow of the sea.

Was this the same ocean they saw in Hamel when Elrios still existed and was this the same ocean that surrounded their trips around the world? Why did Dreadlord look so melancholic whenever he saw it? Royal Guard saw no sadness in it.

His questions would have to be answered later because Dreadlord returned to the table and handed him a few napkins.

It was the polite little things like that which made Royal Guard's chest ache badly. Such polite little things here reminded him that it wasn't just Dreadlord being polite, but rather a stranger took his place.

"Ciel," Royal Guard glanced across the table at the mention of his name. "Are you one of them fancy battle butlers?"

"Why the battle?"

"You just seem like you could kill a man and not feel bad about it."

Not amused, Royal Guard asked, "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a florist, though it wouldn't be my first choice."

"Then, what would be your first choice?"

"I don't know. I've never given it much thought." He laughed, "Maybe a hitman?"

Ironic, Royal Guard fell silent and sipped at his tea.

“But you are a butler, though? You didn’t deny it when I asked.”

“I keep her affairs in order, so you could say I fill the functions that a butler is expected to fulfill.”

“I didn’t think they existed anymore,” Dreadlord stared into his coffee cup, “Are you two on a vacation?”

“Of sorts, we wanted to get away.”

The old Dreadlord would have pressed the question. “From what?” He could hear it in his head now. On the other hand, the Dreadlord in front of him simply let it go and it fell into silence. Desperate to bring some conversation back into the silence, Royal Guard asked, “Who is the little girl that you’re always with?”

“... A child my parents adopted before the died.” Dreadlord smiled, “I always wanted to be a cool big brother and have a little sister, but she doesn’t feel just like a sister. Like a soulmate?”

“A.. soulmate?”

“Oh, that sounds creepy, doesn’t it?” He laughed, and ran a hand through his hair, “I meant that we were destined to meet. Does that make sense?”

God must be laughing at him right now. Even if he wasn’t the old Dreadlord, he was Dreadlord all the same. Royal Guard swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to say something. Nothing came out.

“I know it sounds weird, you don’t’ have to stare at me like that.”

“No, it’s… I understand. I feel the same way about my master.”

“Your parents adopted her before they died, too?”

Royal Guard stared at him, and Dreadlord laughed again. His laugh sounded so good and natural, Royal Guard wondered how long it had been,

“You don’t have to get so mad,”

He wasn’t sure if he was glad Dreadlord was still as infuriating as before his death. It was a bit of both, in the end.

Dreadlord asked questions that were easily answered. Should be he thankful that Dreadlord wasn’t Dreadlord enough to see through his lies? Royal Guard noticed a nervousness about him. He hesitated on words the old Dreadlord would have said without reservation. The most private thoughts he had, he saved for himself in a more obvious manner than he did before he died. Wasn’t that the result of being human?

The alarm goes off, and Royal Guard bade him farewell. Dreadlord doesn't keep him, instead, he looks up from his table and said sadly, “I wish you’d stay longer.”

The only thing he could do, Royal Guard supposed, would have to wait for the shell to come off.

“I’ll try to stay for longer next time.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Whatever’s good for you is good for me. I’m glad you made the effort to come.”

He passed by a small girl on his way out. Her eyes lit up as they passed each other, she gasped, and immediately threw her bag into Dreadlord’s lap. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dreadlord lovingly ruffle her hair. His chest tightened.

“Isn’t that the guy with the girl that has the really pretty eyes?” Chiliarch asked. Royal Guard heard her over the people talking in the cafe.

“Yeah,”

“What’s he doing here? Did you stalk him?”

“Don’t say that. He came of his own volition.”

“I don’t know what volley-shun means!”

Dreadlord’s laugh rang in his ears again and tinged his ears red, and he could see Chiliarch puffing her cheeks out in indignation without even looking at them. There was no reason for him to be here any longer. He walked back as fast as he could.

  A week of visits later, and one day Noblesse chose not to take her midday nap.

It surprised him. She was a creature of habit as much as anyone else, and she hated having to disturb her routine for other things. He didn’t ask her why. She simply said she wasn’t going to take a nap that day.

“Why don’t we go to the aquarium again today, and for a walk, as well? It’s quite nice out.” She said, even though the sun was beating down on the earth and he could see heat waves coming off the ground.

Still, without a second thought, Royal Guard agreed. Dreadlord could wait a day for him, couldn’t he? They weren’t dating. Royal Guard didn’t owe him anything. But then again, it’s not like they were dating in the old world, either.

The aquarium was empty in the middle of the afternoon, probably because of the heat. Despite the weather, Noblesse had not complained at all.

Even the sharks felt the heat because they weren’t nearly as active as they were the last time. They drifted by but paid very little attention to their surroundings. Noblesse wasn’t watching them, either.

When the end of the tunnel came, they stood in front of the ceiling-tall jellyfish tank again. Noblesse had her back towards him and she asked, “Where are you going during my naps?”

“Come again?”

“I know you’re leaving to go somewhere during my naps. I won’t force you to tell me, but I’d like to know where you’re going.”

Of course she knew. Why should he have expected her to be as asleep as he thought she was?

“I’m meeting someone. To talk.” Royal Guard said.

Noblesse pauses, and then spoke somewhat sadly, “Dreadlord?”

“Ah,” She saw though him like he as clear as glass.

“It’s okay if you’re seeing him. I know he must have come for you.” Noblesse placed a hand on the cold tank, “But you should be more careful. We won’t be here forever, and I think you should decide what you want to do before we leave.”

Finally, she turned towards him and warned him with a serious expression, “You should tell him about us. About you guys. He deserves to know about what we are.”

“Right,” Royal Guard wanted to sigh of relief but found nothing relieving in those words. He thought about them, of course, on his way to and back from the cafe. When he had thought about bringing up their past, he could never say anything.

“Let’s go back,” Noblesse said again, “There’s nothing to look at today. Even the clams are sleeping.”

The evening is uneventful, but Royal Guard doesn’t mind. He puts Noblesse to bed and slips into bed himself.

  That night Royal Guard finds himself in the smoke scented room Dreadlord once occupied in the now demolished mansion.

His lighter sits on his nightstand. His pillows and blankets are in their usual places as Royal Guard left them that morning. Everything seems to be where they should be, except for the man that owned the room.

Royal Guard shook his head. He was dreaming again. Maybe it wasn’t a surprise since he had Dreadlord on the mind before he slept.

Speaking of Dreadlord, where was he? If he was not in his room, there aren’t many places in the mansion where he could be. Thought reluctant, Royal Guard opens the door of the smoky room and walks through the familiar halls he once called home.

He was used to Chiliarch’s screeching echoing through the halls. The halls are silent today, and it freaks him out of a little bit to hear the house so silent.

He stops in the grand hall and gazes down below at the ballroom. Though they had this mansion for so many years, he could count the number of time they used the ballroom on one hand.

Noblesse’s portrait hung from the gap between the staircase. Surprise colours his face a ghastly pale when he descends the stairs and stares at the large portrait. A large slash ran diagonally across the canvas, and the guts and frames of leaked through.

The atmosphere of the house changed with that discovery. Panic began to flood into his veins. Where are the others? He could hardly be alone in this house without knowing.

Heavy breathing started behind him and followed him like he was being chased. Quickly, Royal Guard found the hall that led to his room and shut himself in. The panting behind him stopped, but only because Royal Guard found the source.

Dreadlord sat on the wall with his back to the wall. His hand was clutching his chest, and his face was twisted in tremendous pain. When the door opened, he lifted his head in Royal Guard’s direction. “Hey,” He said, like this was a situation that could be explained by a simple hey.

“You’re-”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Dreadlord replied, “… is what I’d like to say, but as you can tell…”

“What did you-”

“Shut up for like, two seconds.” He shushed, “Don’t freak out and chill.”

Royal Guard reached out and gripped Dreadlord’s shoulder.  “you’re shaking, really bad…”

Without waiting for Royal Guard, Dreadlord, explained, “I broke the contract.”

“What did you do?!”

“Chiliarch is dead, I had to…” He opened, and then shook his head, “Nevermind, take care of yourself, okay?”

Dreadlord wore a smile, but the pain mars the tranquility and sincerity behind the words. He grumbled with his belt and coat, trying to find something. Royal Guard remembered this scene hundreds of years ago, but last time, it was a little different.

“Here,” Dreadlord motioned for Royal Guard’s hands, and when Royal Guard thrust his hand forward, Dreadlord pressed a small pistol into them. Royal Guard’s blood went cold. Shaking and trembling, Dreadlord reluctantly let go. His grip lingers, but he finally pulled away in the end.

“Do I have to beg?” Dreadlord laughed sarcastically despite his pain.

When the gym passed into his grip, Royal Guard resisted the urge to press it to his own temple. When you die in a dream, you wake up, but if he died in this memory, Dreadlord would not come back to life.

“IT can’t be that hard, can it?” Dreadlord reached forwards again and closed his hands around Royal Guard’s trembling. They were both shaking now, it’s hard to say who’s shaking is worse. “It hurts, Royal Guard, please.”  It was the first time he has ever heard Dreadlord beg so sincerely.

The gun went off, and Royal Guard woke in a cold sweat. Two words were lopped off in the dream, and in the memory, Dreadlord had quietly apologized underneath his breath and Royal Guard pretended he didn’t hear it.

Now awake, Royal Guard was still shaking. There was one thing that the memory had missed though, and it’s hard to say he’s thankful, but he’s vaguely thankful of it. Last time, he watched Dreadlord kill himself, and he wasn’t sure if he was happier that he had the chance to do it himself.

When Noblesse wakes up a few minutes later, Royal Guard has the tea brewing. They eat breakfast and go down to the beach to make sandcastles. No matter who big they build their castle, the sea washes them into the ebb and flow of eternity.

  In the afternoon, the sun hung high in the sky. Noblesse crawled into bed for a midday nap, so Royal Guard went to see Dreadlord at the cafe alive and well. He was marking a stack of papers and reading them over, He saw Royal Guard standing by the door, and quickly waved him over.

“I missed you yesterday,” Dreadlord said,

“It’s only been a day.”

“What, I can’t miss you?”

“It’s just a bit weird to be missed after a day.” Royal Guard admitted but sat down anyway. Dreadlord shoved all the paperwork somewhere else and the two of them settled into their weekly routine about life beyond this small village that might have been as much of a cage as it was a nest.

Noblesse’s words at the aquarium echo in his head. They were cryptic as much as they were ominous. What did Noblesse mean by that? He didn’t know, but that night he did sleep a little more tenuously than usual.  

[sobdasha]

getting through more old prompts!

katia asks: Drabble: Rin and Tohru and "Just once."

--

The evening weather report said a 20% chance of rain for the morning. Apparently, that 20% happens to be centered directly above the dojo and surrounding town.

And it pours. All 20%.

Rin and Haru are in town visiting the dojo for a couple days over Golden Week, and they're all supposed to be having a picnic together. Tohru planned a picnic. Tohru got up early to pack delicious, adorable bento and everything.

Well. She woke up early and went to the kitchen only to find that Hajime woke up even earlier, and kept Papa company while Kyou started the lunches.

But the point is. The picnic is packed, the temperature would be lovely if not for the rain, and Tohru at last gives in and brings in the teru teru bouzu she hung outside Hajime's window. She wrings it out in the sink and lays it to dry in the dish drain, because it probably tried its best.

And then Haru shrugs and starts pushing the furniture to the walls until they can lay the picnic blanket out in the living room instead.

Four bento, quite a few 'compliments' on Kyou's homemaking skills, and three rounds of Daihinmin later, Papa and Hajime get put down for a nap in the armchair. And Tohru, Rin, and Haru switch to Go Fish on the theory that it will be a less aggressively competitive game.

It is not, somehow.

Rin doesn't want to admit that there are only so many hands of Go Fish a person can play before she loses her sanity, but it's true. And very quickly approaching.

So instead she grabs her sketchbook and says, "Alright, sorry to ditch, but I've got to sketch something this week or I'm gonna forget how to draw entirely." She taps her pencil against her lip. "What do you think, Tohru? Should I draw Mr. Cat Nap over there?"

"Ha, ha," Kyou says from the chair. He doesn't open his eyes.

"Um." Tohru looks down at the picnic blanket as she and Haru gather up the playing cards. "Um. I wonder. That is. Um. If you didn't mind? You could draw me. Just...just once."

Huh. Well that's new.

"You'd like that? Modeling for me?" Rin asks. She almost drops her pencil, and she stares at the top of Tohru's down-turned head. Which she shouldn't, really, because it's about a five-second count until Tohru gets flustered and--

--aaaaand there go the cards. Haru flicks one out of his hair and continues solo with his game of 52 pick up.

"Ah! I'm sorry," Tohru blurts, still waving her hands, "that was really very presumptuous of me! And, and I know that for a model, you really need someone whose face is more, um, you see…"

Rin cuts her off. "Well you know you don't have to offer if you don't want to," she says, and shrugs.

Though she hasn't drawn Tohru before, that's true. And contrary to whatever Tohru was going to say about her face, well. It would have been wrong. And it would be nice to have some sketches of Tohru to carry around with her…

Except Tohru's all embarrassed now…

Unless…

Rin grins, and then quickly scrunches the grin off her face and ducks her face behind her sketchbook instead. "Though…" she adds slowly, softly, so that Tohru will certainly lean in to listen, "if you did want to...it'd make me really happy…"

A quick intake of breath...hook, line, and sinker. Rin pointedly ignores the eyebrows Haru is raising at her. Screw you, Haru.

"Okay!!" Tohru cries, clasping Rin's hands around the sketchbook. "I'll do it! Thank you very much!"

"Wait," Kyou puts in from the armchair, "you're gonna draw my wife naked?"

Much like Kyou and his rainy-day naps, the end of the curse hasn't changed the fact that Rin has long legs and knows how to use them.

"Well that's what live modeling means, doesn't it?!" he hollers back. "Why'd you kick me, woman!"

Haru shakes his head as he slips the cards back in their box. "You shouldn't think such dirty thoughts, Kyou…"

"Argh...I'm not, I'm just saying, isn't that what it means?"

"Um," Tohru says, pink in the face, "I'll--I'll try my best!"

You know, one day, Rin may take her up on that offer. Not today, not with their dumb husbands watching. But later. A girl's day.

As for now…

"Okay, but doesn't she need her to stay still for drawing?" Kyou is saying. "Can she even do that?"

Haru looks at him. "Your wife spaced out for literally ten minutes yesterday thinking about what to cook for dinner."

"Whatever," Rin says, "so if nothing else I'll get some good practice in with speed sketches. It's a challenge. How about you both shut up before you wake Hajime, huh?"

As for now, maybe Rin will settle for trying to show Tohru her stupid, dumb smile.