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xavieryaa · 1 year

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deal // chapter 11: the cycle of death

word count: 3.6k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯-

If Jimin had tried to tell himself a few weeks ago that he would soon find himself searching in the depths of the Internet inaccessible to the average person for drugs being sold illegally in order to solve a murder, first he would have questioned how his future self had time traveled, and then he would have called said future self an idiot. Yet here he is anyways, though he has a feeling that second part still isn’t too far from the truth.

“How do you even know how to find this stuff, anyways?” Jimin says, staring at Namjoon’s hands as the man’s fingers rapidly type on the keyboard, moving through screen after screen of the many precautions designed to keep out police and others whose presence was unwanted on such a site.

“I know some people,” Namjoon replies without even looking away from the display. It’s almost impressive how focused he is on the task.

“So you did have friends, then?”

Namjoon looks up at Jimin then, not saying anything for a moment, then after a few seconds turning back to the screen again as if nothing has happened. A couple seconds later comes his actual answer.

“They weren’t good people. But I know them,”

Jimin doesn’t know what to say then, now that his attempt at sparking conversation has failed, so he taps his foot softly against the ground just to give himself something to do. Other than the sound of that and the typing Namjoon has resumed, there’s silence in the room, a soft grey glow cast on the both of them. His mind drifts off, and since there’s nothing much to pay attention to at the moment anyways, he doesn’t try to reign it back in.

“Jimin,” Namjoon’s voice cuts through Jimin’s zoned-out thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You can pull your head out of the clouds now. I’ve gotten us access,”

Leaning his face closer so that he can see, Jimin’s eyes land upon the site Namjoon’s somehow managed to get them to - a simply designed, almost boring sight, the only thing unusual about it being the fact that its pages advertise numerous sellers for any illegal substance Jimin could think of. Other than its actual contents, it looks wholly unimpressive – about the opposite of what Jimin had always thought of when he pictured the dark underbelly of the net that he’s truly looking at right now.

“That’s…it?”

“What, Jimin, did you expect highly illegal activity to be more aesthetically pleasing than this? More flamboyant?” Namjoon snorts.

“Excuse you, but I was just a normal person before you dragged me into this. I don’t have any experience with this kind of thing,” Jimin shoots back defensively.

“That much is clear,” Namjoon’s eyes have a sort of sparkle to them, Jimin notices, twinkling amusedly in the light. “Now, what do you say we actually investigate what we’re supposed to investigate now?”

“Good idea, I guess,”

Namjoon surfs around the website for a bit, making Jimin realize that this site isn’t as simplistic as he had first thought. Its contents are a bit difficult to navigate upon a closer look, a chaotic market filled with sellers that are untrustworthy beyond the bit of service they’re offering. His eyes widen as he gazes at the many distracting and downright confusing advertisements and links littered around.

It’s a mess, which is definitely closer to what he had first expected.

“Why does it look so unorganized? As in, how do they stay in operation if it’s like this?”

“This site - as in the domain - is pretty new. The site itself has to move around pretty often, otherwise the government will find it and it’ll immediately get shut down, along with all the sellers on here. These guys aren’t taking any risks, not with all the laws around drugs. Staying open is more important than staying easily accessible,”

“That…makes sense, actually. Now that we’re on this monstrosity of web design, then, how do we find who would have sold the fentanyl? You said a lot of people end up selling it, right?”

Namjoon thinks for a moment, pausing his movement of the computer mouse. “Not a lot, really, just enough so that there’s not a terribly low supply. Besides, most of those people don’t sell it directly. They sell it to someone who does that, and then the person who bought it sells it for a higher price to customers. There’s a few people on here who operate in Seoul, of course, but there’s one that I suspect more than the others.”

“Why’s that?”

“Typically sells for lower prices - still enough to get a stupid high profit margin, but not as outrageous as most of the other ones. Also, most of the other ones don’t sell it as tablets, so it’s not as likely that the killer would have bought it from then, unless they felt like going through all the effort of doing that themself for whatever reason,” Namjoon says without hesitation, as if he already predicted Jimin would ask this - which, knowing himself, Jimin thinks is probably the case.

“How the hell do you know all this?” Jimin looks at him with a raised eyebrow, to which Namjoon raises both of his.

“As I said before: contacts,”

Namjoon offers no further explanation, simply going through several links in the site in succession, clearly having gone through convoluted atrocities of web design like this before. After a minute or so, though, he switches to another couple websites, typing and clicking while Jimin looks over his shoulder, trying and failing to see what he’s doing.

“So, how do we actually talk to this guy? Does he have a business website or something?” Jimin says jokingly just to interrupt the sound of typing echoing through the room, though he immediately wonders if it was such a good idea to lighten the mood in a situation like this. Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“She’s a woman, and we contact her through email. Usually the customer uses a burner account that can’t be tied to them, and the seller deletes their account after any sale. A bit complicated sometimes, but necessary,”

“That’s what you were just doing, then? Making an account?”

“And then sending her an email, yes. She should respond soon enough. They all do, this stuff brings them enough money that they don’t have to work much anymore,”

Namjoon beckons him closer, so that now he can see the text written on the screen - a short message written to an email that looks randomly generated registered under a domain that looks similarly nonsensical, informing the seller that she sold to someone who used her stock in a murder, and Namjoon would be willing to pay her an amount of money that Jimin’s mind can’t quite process if she would be willing to provide the names of the people she recently dealt to.

“You really are filthy rich, huh?” Jimin mutters under his breath.

“Might as well use it on this,”

Jimin wants to ask more about how he even got this wealthy in the first place, but as if to prove that not only humans are intent on interrupting him at any and every point, a ding indicates that the seller has responded to their email. Namjoon refreshes the page to reveal a reply that’s even shorter than his original message.

“What’s to say you’re not just the police ready to arrest their asses after scamming me?”

Namjoon quickly types back a reply of his own, sending it after only a couple of seconds.

“I’m Kim Namjoon.”

Jimin frowns when he reads that, turning to Namjoon in curiosity. How would she know who he is, and why would his name make her more likely to give them information?

Another ding comes shortly after, indicating his words had the intended effect. It’s just a list - some entries with actual names, some just with descriptions of what they look like, all having the dates of the sales themselves next to them. At the end of the email are the words, “Send my payment within a month or I’ll cause hell. Hope this shit helps with whatever you need it for”, along with information for a bank account based somewhere outside of Korea.

Jimin would have made a sarcastic remark about how she seems pleasant, but he shuts up the moment his eyes fall on the list of names, on one name in particular, eyes widening and breath catching in his throat.

Wang Mansik, October 6

October sixth, only a week and a half before Soo had overdosed on the very drug that had been bought. And it was Wang, the very person who they’ve suspected the most, having bought it.

“Well, Jimin,” Namjoon says with a satisfied smile, turning his head towards him, “I think we’ve found our guy.”

•

It’s been two hours and the way the seller automatically recognized Namjoon’s name and responded to it is still bothering Jimin, an itch at the back of his mind on top of other small details that have built up, like how Namjoon had refused to answer why he’s so intent on solving this. He doesn’t want to snoop, and chances are Namjoon would just dismiss him and yet again dismiss his questions, but he’s tempted, very tempted, to try and find out what’s going on with him.

He doesn’t like the knowledge that Namjoon is so obviously keeping something important from him, which he knows is hypocritical, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. They’re still sitting next to each other, but Jimin’s role is even more passive than before, as Namjoon’s sorting out smaller matters regarding the sale that both of them know Jimin wouldn’t be much help in.

Clearing his throat, Jimin speaks before he can give himself time to realize that he probably shouldn’t.

“Namjoon?” he says, voice louder than he had anticipated. Immediately, Namjoon turns to him, head cocked in curiosity in a non-verbal question of what is it? that he soon voices anyways.

“Yes?”

“Why are you so dedicated to all this? You didn’t seem to care much for Soo, so what’s motivating you to do this?”

Namjoon breathes in quickly, jaw dropping a bit before he closes it again, an attempt to hide his reaction. He purses his lips for a moment, closing his eyes as if considering what to respond or if he should do it at all, before taking a deep breath and saying four words before shutting his mouth again.

“They think it was me,”

Jimin’s own jaw drops at the revelation, and Namjoon nods slightly, an acknowledgement that he also knows it seems strange, before he continues.

“I didn’t have any alibi I could confirm. I was by myself the night it happened, because I have - had - no friends. The only way I can get out of this mess is to prove it was someone else,”

“But why do they think it was you? Wouldn’t there have been other people who didn’t have anyone to support where they claimed they were?”

Namjoon gulps heavily, eyes tearing away from the eye contact he had held with Jimin for the past few seconds. “Because I used to be so focused on getting to the top that it consumed my life. I had no life other than that, I just did anything I could to get more and more power no matter what it was,”

Namjoon’s head drops, face completely out of view now like he can’t stand the thought of being seen. His fingers grip tightly onto the seat, knuckles turning white.

“Because I’ve killed people before,”

His voice breaks a bit in the middle of his sentence, words quieter than he had ever heard Namjoon speak before. All the breath rushes out of Jimin’s chest, and he’s left suffocating in the silence between them. Horror washes over him as he realizes the implications of what Namjoon’s just said, not just the obvious but something that scares him even more than a “normal” murder.

“My…?”

Namjoon’s head snaps up, eyes wide and volume increasing again.

“No, not your parents, I swear. That was someone else, it wasn’t me!” Namjoon sounds like he’s choking over his own words. “And…I’m so sorry.”

Jimin isn’t doing much better at the moment. “So…they’re really dead?”

Namjoon hesitates for a moment before nodding.

“But why? Why kill them? Why kill two innocent people?”

“Debt. Debt they couldn’t repay. Their business wasn’t doing well and they couldn’t afford to run it or survive anymore without help and we - they- were the only ones willing to give them a loan. And then things didn’t get better. They couldn't repay all the money. The fucking loan sharks never cared if someone was a good person, so they were killed and the group took their assets after their died to get back the loan any way they could,” Namjoon’s voice is a strange mix of matter-of-factness and sympathy and pure anger.

“How do you know all of this?”

“What?”

“How do you even know all of this? How did you even get all this money? Were you like him?” Jimin’s demanding more than asking, and he sort of feels bad considering the state Namjoon’s descending into, but he can’t help it. These weren’t the answers he was expecting, not at all, and now he has far more questions than he had before.

“I tried to be, for a bit in my life. I didn’t care about how it affected other people because that was the only way I could justify it to myself. I…I hurt people because he instructed me to, and I was the only one who was willing to do all that shit, and I was rewarded for it. I got the power I wanted. But I never got to his level, and thank fuck. I don’t know how well I would have turned out if I didn’t stop before it was too late,” Legs held between his arms, Namjoon looks like he’s trying to collapse into himself rather than remember what he’s done.

“But why did you stop? What made you realize it was wrong?” For all the progress he’s made, Jimin still feels like he’s a helpless child confronting things like this. He can’t articulate the words the way he wants to in any way other than pure thought vomit or oversimplifications of the chaos in his mind.

“The more I moved up the more aware I became of what was happening, and the more aware I got that they lacked any empathy at all. A few years ago now…I used to have a little brother. Too young to be of any use to them before, so they left him with my parents. He never knew what happened to me, my parents didn’t want to tell him, but he found out on his own, and he came to see me. Soo was there at the time to discuss something tedious he wanted me to do, can’t remember anymore…I went to answer the door, opened it, and Soo…killed him. Shot him right in the head and started fucking laughing. And it was my fault, because I was the one who let it get that far,” Namjoon stops for a moment. “He was fifteen years old.”

Jimin sees tears start to run down Namjoon’s cheeks as his words choke in his throat before the other man turns his head away completely, shame and guilt the only things on his face. He looks different from any way Jimin’s ever seen him, broken and devastated, shaking with a hand over his mouth barely hiding a sob.

The man in front of him is a murder. The man in front of him had killed who knows how many people. The man in front of him had been rude to him since they first met. The man in front of him was involved in the death of his parents.

Jimin knows all of this, and he knows that for all this he should resent Namjoon, that he should hate him. But the man in front of him is also vulnerable, guilty, changed. The man in front of him is undoubtedly different from how he was before, and while he does still hold a grudge against Namjoon, something in his heart is starting to let go of it. Just a little bit.

“I understand if you…wouldn’t feel comfortable doing this anymore. This is all my fault, isn’t it? I’ll finish this, if I need to. You can go. If you want. If you hate me too much now,” Namjoon’s voice is hushed and difficult to understand, slurred by his partially-clogged nose.

Tentatively, Jimin reaches out his hand, softly holding it against Namjoon’s wrist after a moment’s pause. Slowly, Namjoon unfolds, expression curious as he looks back up at Jimin, who musters a small smile, patting his skin lightly.

“We have an agreement, remember? You’ve done bad things before, but you’re trying to change, and right now that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Promises aren’t something Jimin breaks, and while that’s always been the policy he’s only kept with Taehyung, something’s changed, not just between him and Namjoon, but something in his heart, too. He’s not sure if he’s telling the truth, honestly, he can’t tell through all the shock how much this will affect things, but one thing’s for sure: he’s staying, he’s helping, and that’s final.

•

He hasn’t set any sort of a date for a meet-up with Taehyung yet, but Jimin knows that there’s no way he can avoid it any longer, not that it was ever his goal to do that - he needs to do this today. He would be lying if he was to say it wasn’t partially because of what had happened with Namjoon yesterday, but still, it’s mostly because the guilt of abandoning Taehyung with no explanation has been weighing on him and has persistently refused to abandon him.

Sitting in the living room by Namjoon, in one of the rare moments where they’re not working on something and Namjoon hasn’t just isolated himself in his room like he had spent the majority of his time doing in the beginning, the aura is calm, calmer than Jimin has felt in half a month. Namjoon’s been avoiding his presence much less lately, for some reason. And so Jimin takes a deep breath, preparing himself. This is the time to do it.

“Namjoon? Could I go out for a bit, by myself?”

Namjoon tears his eyes away from the book he’s been reading, raising an eyebrow at him. Despite the tenseness of yesterday, he’s been trying to return to his normal, unbothered self - keyword being trying, as in the past 24 hours Jimin’s noticed a few differences. He seems less quick to be irritated, at times he seems more wary like he’s afraid that at any time Jimin will change his mind, but he’s also less hesitant to talk to Jimin about his past now that his heaviest secret wasn’t weighing him down.

“And why do you want to do that, Jimin?”

“Taehyung. I’m going to see Taehyung,” Jimin says, and there’s a subtle change in Namjoon’s face - to Jimin’s surprise, he still remembers who Taehyung is. And he doesn’t seem particularly happy about that. Quickly, Jimin rushes to explain himself, lest Namjoon immediately deny his request.

“I swear, I won’t tell him what’s actually going on. I’ll tell him it’s family matters, just like you told my work. You can trust me. I just…want to meet with him. I’ve been lonely,” Jimin bites his lip nervously once he finishes, watching Namjoon’s expression carefully.

His eyes narrow at first, lips slightly downturned as he hears Jimin speak, and for a few terrifying seconds Jimin’s sure he’ll say no and dash any and all hope of him seeing Taehyung until they’re done with all this. At least, that’s how he looks until Jimin mentions that he’s lonely. Immediately, something in his face softens, something almost kind appearing in his eyes. And he gives in.

“Alright. You can go. Just make sure to get back within a timely manner,” Namjoon sighs, hands resting on his thighs.

“Thank you! Thank you. I promise, I’ll be back soon, Namjoon,” Jimin says, unable to stop the smile that grows on his face within a second, standing up swiftly, waving at Namjoon happily and rushing towards the door just to make sure that Namjoon doesn’t have a change of heart before he can leave.

“Jimin?” he hears Namjoon’s voice from behind him. Turning around, he sees Namjoon, now sporting a slight smile and eyes Jimin can’t read, except for the fact that they seem a bit…sad?

“You…you don’t have to be lonely. I’m here after all,”

Looking at Namjoon, for once relaxed, without the stone walls he usually keeps locked around his feelings, Jimin feels something indescribable. Endearment, sympathy, relief, comfort - he’s never felt it before, and the only thing he knows for sure is that it’s not negative. This time, the smile he shows Namjoon isn’t as mindlessly happy as before. Weirdly, it feels more…genuine than that. “I know,” is all Jimin can think of to respond, even though really, he doesn’t know, he has absolutely no idea what is going on or what Namjoon actually means or what the hell has happened between them to diffuse the endless arguments they had used to have before. A part of him, though, hopes that one day he will know.

#deal (story)

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jinx-jade · 3 years

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Secret Dreams Chapter 4: Teasing

“Cassandra tried to adopt you,” Damian questions the moment he entered the dream zone. His family had been talking about Marinette Dupain-Cheng since the second they got home. Most likely on the way home as well. She had made a big impression on Cass, and the others trusted Cass’s judgment.

From what he heard, Marinette had randomly huffed in amusement or was at least holding back laughter. She had also said “mood” for some unknown reason. She was reacting to something, but they weren’t sure what it was. She had at some point gotten into some kind of staring contest with Cass. Only for them to burst out laughing and then Cass asking for Marinette to be adopted into the family. She still hadn’t explained why she wanted to adopt Marinette.

“So you hear about that,” Marinette grinned as she made her way over to her bonded.

Sometimes Mairentte would arrive in the dream zone after Damian, like the previous night, and sometimes she would be in the dream zone before him. Although after the defeat of Hawkmoth Marinette was more often than not in the dream zone before him.

Damian wrapped his arms around her. Their usual greeting when one of them enters the dream zone. They stayed like that for a bit before settling onto the couch, like they had the night before. Marinette was in Damian’s lap once again, with his arms around her waist.

“That’s all my incompetent siblings talked about,” Damian informs her with the slightest upturn of his lips. “Cassandra of course didn’t talk much besides to ask about adopting you. She was giving father puppy dog eyes the entire time Todd and Drake explained what happened at the meeting.”

Marinette’s grin grew at that.

“My, that must have been quite chaotic, such a shame I couldn’t bear witness to it,” Marinette states sagely, changing her expression to a serious one while nodding her head.

Damian shook his head in amusement as the upturn of his lip grew into a smile. “We now have a file about you on the Batcomputer Malak. They did a full background check, and Cassandra pouted when she saw that you already had parents. After reading your file, they all seemed very disappointed that our father can’t adopt you. A good majority of them thought your parents either died or abandoned you. Most likely due to the fact you traveled quite frequently with your Aunt and Uncle.”

Marinette tilted her head as if contemplating something before nodding. “Yeah, that assumption about my parents makes sense. I’ve had quite a few people think that Uncle Jagged and Aunt Penny had either full or temporary custody over myself.”

After a little more contemplation Marinette explains, “There shouldn’t be anything that impressive in this file your family made, but Cassandra is an interesting person. I had fun copying her body language. It turned into a big game of copycat,” Marinette informed him with a cheerful smile.

“You were playing a game of copycat with Cassandra?” Damian asked before realizing what his mate had said.

Damian raised an eyebrow at that. “You don’t have anything impressive in your file? Really? Habibti, You did competitive gymnastics from the ages of four to eight. Making it to nationals before you quit. Even after quitting you still went to open mats. You took free running classes because you didn’t want Kubdel to do it alone. You took fencing and swordplay because you wanted to spend more time with Tugarugi.”

Damian shook his head, “That not even mentioning the fact you have your own design company. You are also the personal designer for countless celebrities.”

Damian let a teasing smirk make its way onto his face. “Your family is not hurting for money either. Your grandmother travels the world, which isn’t cheap. Your Uncle’s a world-class chef. You live in a five-story building that happens to be one of the most if not the most popular bakeries in all of Paris France. But do go on about how boring your file must have been.”

Marinette playfully smacked her bonded’s arm, “Shush you! Mr. heir to a billion-dollar company!”

Damian scoffed at that, “I’m aware that my family is rich. Everyone else is also aware my family is rich. You on the other hand,” Damian trailed off.

“We’re not rich, we're just, uh, comfortable. Yup, just comfortable!” Marinette argus, causing Damian to chuckle. They fall into an enjoyable silence, enjoying the company of their bonded.

Marinette looked up at Damian from where she was in his lap, “Do you think Cassandra will be upset about me not being her sister?”

Damian leaned forward with a smirk. “I don’t believe Casandra will be too upset when you become her sister-in-law,” he spoke into her ear. Making a faint blush appear on Marinette’s features.

She turned away with a pout, “You’re such a tease!”Marinette whined.

“Oh? Is it teasing if I plan to follow through with it?” Damian questioned. His smirk grew wider as the blush upon his bonded’s face darkened.

Marinette let out an annoyed huff before pulling Damian into a kiss. The action surprised him for a split second before he easily returned the kiss. She made sure not to pull away until they needed to breathe. When Marinette pulled away, she purposefully nipped at his bottom lip. The action caused Damian to follow her as she moved away, making Marinette grin.

It was Damian’s turn to be embarrassed, as a blush of his own worked its way up to his face. He tucked his face against Marinette’s neck in an attempt to hide his blush.

Damian groaned before complaining, “You’re not supposed to play dirty Malak.”

Marinette laughed at that. “Sorry, not sorry! You and I both know that my horns are just camouflaged better than yours.” Marinette teased. “And besides, All’s fair in love and war, Dove.” Marinette clams with a grin.

Damian just groans again, nuzzling closer to Marinette’s neck. They stayed there for a while, content with being in each other’s presence. After a long comforting silence, the bonded pair drifted off to sleep.

While it seems weird to sleep in the dream zone due to the fact they were already asleep, it was quite relaxing and comforting. Being near your mate at all usually had a calming effect. The pair could only imagine the effects they would have on each other once they meet in person.

tag list: @little-bluestar @redbullgivescaswings @stackofrandomstuff @meismu @maskedpainter @nyx-in-line @iamabrownfox @m0chik0furan @jjmjjktth @icerosecrystal @machichannx @a4-machete @our-preciousss @justafanwarrior @animegirlweeb @loopingtangent @buginetye @blueslushgueen @solangelo252 @officiallydarkgeek @toodaloo-kangaroo @melicmusicmagic @alysrose-starchild @lunathealphafemale @frieddonutsweets @marvel--unsolved @user00000003

#maribat #fluff #daminette #damian x marinette #romantic soulmates #secret soulmate #soulmate damian #soulmate marinette #secret relationship #secret dreams

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the-duke-of-nuts · 3 years

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The Battle Over Wine

After 3 months I’ve finally gotten around to finish writing one of the Loceit headcanons/prompts as a oneshot! This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written that’s in actual sentences and not in script form so forgive the MANY grammar mistakes and shitty plot for I am terrible at writing and don’t know how spacing works on Tumblr (*cough* Betas hit me up *cough*) ANYWAYS literally nothing in this makes sense but it’s fanfiction so roll with it. Hope you enjoy I guess!

Prompt/Headcanon by the amazing royalty of Sanders Sides headcanons/prompts @imma-potatoo: Janus and Logan constantly battle over which wine is better (they are both wine moms) Janus says red wine, Logan says white. They can and will get into hour long debates over this

Pairing(s): Loceit, Background Dukexiety

Word Count: 2,400

Warnings: Alcohol, Arguing, Blood mention (Nothing major just comparing the color to wine), Remus being Remus (Let me know if there's anything else)

It was a typical day at the mindscape for the Braincell Gays. They had just finished filming a video with Thomas about helping him with his mental health and his overworking issues. Janus thought both of their inputs and solutions were a success and decided to have some celebratory wine with Logan.

"Today was a success, wouldn't you say darling?" Janus said wrapping his arms around Logan's waist. "I must admit, today was pretty satisfactory, especially since we both helped Thomas with his dilemma and we were both actually listened to for once." Logan replied wrapping his arms around Janus' neck. Janus smiled and pressed a quick soft kiss against Logan's lips to which Logan of course reciprocated. "I say this calls for a celebration." Janus said. "What did you have in mind?" Logan asked, curiously. Janus smirked and summoned two empty wine glasses "I think you know~" "Ah yes, how can I forget your traditional celebratory wine." Logan playfully rolled his eyes.

"Oh you know you love it".

"You're correct about that." Logan chuckled.

Despite both of them having "serious" and "professional" demeanors around the other sides they enjoyed the little moments where they can actually goof off and make each other laugh and smile during their alone time.

"So, what will it be for the menu for today my love? Will it be the best and most savory of flavors of Roscato red wine, or are we feeling a little fancy and want to celebrate with champagne instead?" Janus asked. "Oh, well I was thinking we should have something far much more adequate like white wine."

The sound of glass shattering immediately followed after Logan’s response,

"I beg your pardon?" Janus stared in disbelief trying to process what his lover had just said. Logan, his darling, the light of his life, his beloved, had just disrespectfully claimed that WHITE wine was better than red in his own home! Well, their home and the other sides' home but that's besides the point! This is wine they're talking about here! "Well, I thought I made myself clear but I shall repeat myself, I said that I was thinking we should have something much more adequate than red wine which I suggested white instead."

Janus took a deep breath in trying to keep his composure

"Starling?"

"Yes Janus?"

"You know I love you right?"

"Of course I do, you show and tell me everyday."

"Well you're making it reeeeeal hard for me to want to show and tell you right now."

"Why? Is it because I was simply stating facts that white wine is much more superior than red?" Logan crossed his arms raising an eyebrow. "Those are NOT facts those are lies! Red wine is much more tastier than white wine!" Janus argued. "Yeah, if you have a figurative bitter tooth! Red wine is way too bitter and the sweetness isn't as flavorful as white wine!" Logan argued back.

"Y'know considering the fact that we have to deal with 4 other nincompoops in this damn house you'd be glad that red wine is stronger than white!"

"Janus, just because red wine contains more ABV than white wine doesn't make it the better beverage!"

"Oh says who!?"

"The literal personification of LOGIC and literally anyone who isn't you!"

"Okay you know what? That's it!"

Janus has had enough of the ridiculous bickering and decided to take matters into his own hands by summoning himself, his darling nerd, and all of the other sides back in the same exact courtroom him and Patton were in trying to convince Thomas to go to the wedding or callback.

"We're going to settle this debate once and for all!" Janus dramatically pointed at Logan. "Janus, this is ridiculous! Who exactly are we defending for this to be a courtroom scenario!?" Logan glared at his lover. "Ourselves and the law of wine!" Janus declared. "What the hell does that even mean!?" An annoyed, confused Virgil yelled from the jury box sitting next to Remus and Patton. "Hush Virgil the adults are talking." Janus said not taking his eyes off of Logan.

"We're the same age!"

"ENOUGH chit chat and questions." Janus made Virgil cover his own mouth growing tired of his complaining and faced Roman "Now, your honor would you kindly read off the charges please?" "Oh, we're doing this again, well alright let's see here uh, The state of Logan Sanders yadda yadda yadda, Janus, prosecuting for the state of Logan Sanders, under oath, information makes that Logan Sanders... Count one: Unlawfully and disrespectfully claimed that one alcoholic beverage was better than the other. Count two: Has terrible taste in drinks but better taste in men. Count three: Being too damn attractive for this world. Count four: Making Janus break two perfectly good wine glasses. Count five: Unlawfully not participate in self care by leaving his books all over the floor whenever he falls asleep while doing heavy research when he's supposed to be taking a break causing Janus to place a bunch of bookmarks in said books and put them away for him." Roman read off the charges Janus summoned him.

"And how exactly were those last four charges relevent?" Logan asked. "Because they are and you know it! Your honor, continue." Janus said. "Being so charged, Logan Logic Sanders, how do you plead?" "Not guilty." Logan said deadpan. "Count six for being too confident in that answer." Janus coughed out.

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, he didn't know who was more dramatic, Roman or his lovable self care wine loving snake.

"To make this quick and effective we're going to skip the other nonsense and get straight to the point by giving our UNBIASED views to each person and have them decide to see if Logan is truly a horrible wine 'expert'." Janus said as he arrived at the front of the courtroom

"Alright, fair enough. Prosecution, your first witness."

"I would like to call Remus to the stand!"

Remus appeared in the witness stand and immediately stood up and was about to jump over it and run "I can't go back to jail!" "Sit down Remus you're not going to- Wait what do you mean back?" Janus looked at him after doing a double take. "Nothing! So uh what's the question?" Remus immediately sat back down trying to change the subject.

"Alright Remus, red or white wine?"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Alright, uhh hmm..."

Remus thought about it thinking of the possible outcomes that could happen if he chose a certain answer. Janus noticed him struggling to make a choice and had an idea and smirked

"You know Remus, if you're having a hard time deciding, just putting this out there, red wine looks like you're drinking blood and I think you enjoy that thought VERY much~" Remus gasped and instantly became excited by the thought "OOH! You're right! I could even add bone shaped ice to give it that realistic crunching sound!" "Objection persuading the witness with a biased opinion." Logan said. "Overruled. It's not really persuading since we ALL know my brother actually enjoys anything gruesome like that regardless." "I sure do!" Remus cackled at Roman's statement.

Logan sighed a little frustrated, this was going to be harder than he thought.

"I think I rest my case your honor." Janus smirked and blew Logan a kiss as he walked back to his table to sit down. Logan blushed and shook his head to quickly snap out of it and walked to the front and cleared his throat as he adjusted his glasses and tie

“Remus."

"Nerd."

"You enjoy pranking and getting on Janus' nerves is that correct?"

"Yes that is VERY correct." Remus snickered.

"And you despise when he forces you to partake in proper hygene as well as making you eat actual ingestible foods unlike deodorant and other non edible items?”

"Yeah."

Remus crossed his arms hating remembering the times Janus would force him to take a bath and purposely safety locking the cleaning supplies cabinets just so he had no other choice BUT to eat regular food.

"You also are not how they call a 'lightweight'?"

"Nope!"

That was a lie. Remus could drink three cups and he'd already become a drunk chaotic mess.

"Okay, so hear me out here." Logan started and Remus leaned forward becoming interested in what he was about to say. "Remus, white wine is clear therefore you can always "pretend" that you're drinking water so Janus doesn't question it for self care reasons nor harass you about it."

Remus went wide eyed at the realization and wagged his finger at Logan. "You... I like you... Keep talking."

Logan smirked, he got Remus right where he wanted him and continued.

"Also if you were to spill it there would be no noticeable stain therefore making it impossible for Janus to become upset."

"Wow, you make some VERY compelling points Four Eyes."

"Objection! I don't appreciate you persuading my son with your biased statements by using me as examples." Janus interjected.

"Janus, Remus is not your son!"

"You're right, my apologies. I don't appreciate you persuading OUR son with your biased statements by using me as examples."

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head not wanting to bother arguing with Janus about his logic.

"I believe I've made my points your honor." Logan walked back to his table. "Alright, can I go now?" Remus asked. "Almost Remus. We just need to know your final answer, then you may leave and sit back down with the other two." Janus answered. "Okay umm on one hand I very much LOVED Jan's point about how red wine looks like you're drinking blood buuuut I would have to go with Nerdy Wolverine on this one and choose white wine because I enjoy pissing Janus off."

"Yes!" Logan whispered victoriously to himself.

"Oh you rat son of a bitch of course you would-"

"Language!" Patton interrupted.

"English."

"Spanish! Now you!"

"German. No! We're not doing a word association game!" Janus yelled frustrated. "Aw, what's the matter my charming smooth scaled serpent? Realizing you're losing against Logic?" Logan smirked. "NO and don't you dare flatter me using snake related petnames when you're looking like that in a suit!"

Logan smirked at Janus' flustered expression, "Alright, then bring out your next witness then." "I will! Remus, you can leave now." Finally!" A relieved Remus announced as he summoned himself back at the jury box. Janus summoned Roman to the witness stand wanting to get straight to the point.

"Roman?"

"Yes Janaconda?"

"You're the romantic one out of all of us correct?"

"Oh my god you already know he is just get to the point!" Virgil yelled from the jury box slowly losing his patience even more. "Since you are an expert on the matter, would you mind sharing with the court which wine do you think is more romantic on a date?" "Oh that's easy, obviously red wine." "Interesting, care to elaborate?" Janus smirked and glanced at Logan. "Of course! Imagine having a romantic candle lit dinner under the stars or a picnic date watching the sunset, red wine gives those beautiful moments of being with your beloved partner a general relaxing and romantic atmosphere and it also tastes marvelous with various different foods. I'm actually quite surprised Specs didn't side with red wine considering it's good for digestion." Roman stated. "Wow, you really ARE a romantic expert! I don't think I have any further questions." Janus smirked and walked back to his table.

Logan went wide eyed there's no way he can convince Roman, his answer was obviously clear but it's worth a shot.

"Roman, have you ever considered white wine being just as “romantic” as red?"

"Not really no."

"Okay, well uh it can because-"

"Logan, I know you're trying here but trust me I know what I'm talking about. Don't get me wrong, white wine is just as delectable as red but I'm gonna have to side with Janus on this one." Roman interrupted and summoned himself back on the judge chair. Logan sighed and walked back to his table, he knew by the amount of confidence in Roman's answer there was no convincing him. "Fair enough..."

"Alright, Prosecution next witness?" Janus decided to summon Patton in the witness stand next and smiled innocently clasping his own hands together "Patton~" "Uh I know this is probably a really bad time to bring this up now but um I don't really drink wine so I don't really have an opinion..." Patton blushed a little embarrassed. Janus sighed frustrated and put his head down on the podium and summoned Patton back in the jury box "Of course you don't."

There was only one person left and that person was Virgil, it was 2 out of 2 and his choice would be the one to officially break the tie and put an end to this illogical ridiculous debate trial.

Janus summoned Virgil in the witness stand " Alright Virgil, what do you think cause I'm sure we all know you don't have an important input."

"You wanna know what I think!?"

Virgil was fed up and snapped his fingers causing him and the other sides to appear back at the house and summoned two glasses of wine, one red and the other white. He shoved the glass of red wine in Janus' hand and the white wine in Logan's

"I think the two of you dorks-"

"Dorks. Whale penises am I right guys?" Remus interupted snorting.

"-Should actually ACT like you both have a braincell and never debate about something as stupid as this ever again!" Virgil continued angrily. "Maybe the reason why they both don't have a braincell anymore is because they both fu-" Virgil interrupted his boyfriend from finishing his inappropriate sentence by covering his mouth and dragged him out of the room. Roman and Patton followed them not knowing what else to do.

The Braincell Gays stood in awkward silence holding their wine glasses realizing their silly little arguement was stupid after all.

"Truce?" Janus asked raising his wine glass.

"Truce." Logan smiled and raised his glass as well.

They both clinked their wine glasses together and drank their wine happily enjoying each other's company and soon made it up to each other by agreeing to have a self care day together the next day.

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 80

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I walked up to Seventh Heaven. I still didn't have a new bike so I'd had to trek all the way down here from Atlas Academy. I'd even dodged my girlfriends a little which made me feel a touch uncomfortable inside. But it just might prove necessary.

I'd received a message from Bisque stating that we needed to talk in person. The lines might not be secure which as a terrorist organization I said ‘fair enough.’

Aurum laid low under the law. That's how he got by and made his money whereas Avalanche played things fast and loose. I wouldn't be shocked if they were being watched when Aurum wasn't per se.

The bells jingled as I walked in.

"Cloud!" Bisque exclaimed. "There you are. Haven't seen you in a few weeks."

"Yeah well I started playing for the other side of the law," I informed him.

"You mean…"

"I won't turn you in or anything but I can't exactly help you out anymore. You got information for me? Is that why you called me down here?"

"We actually wanted your help…"

"More of my help, you mean."

"Yeah well we're only a budding organization."

Someone came down from upstairs in the place. It was Jasper. "Cloud? It's so good to see you!" She walked over and hugged me, her tail swishing all the while.

"Yeah well I'm pretty sure I won't be here for long."

"Oh don't be like that. Let me get you a drink."

"Fuck it. Why not. Get me a screwdriver. Those house specials of yours are too sweet for me and I don't have Neo around."

"Oh? Where is she?" Jasper asked.

"Not sure at the moment. Hopefully laying low and waiting for the next storm to come in. Haven't seen her for two weeks or so. Been busy. Trying to make things right on the proper side of the law."

"Yeah, we've been doing a bit of that ourselves. We've been trying to calm down the protests while still having the political force to back Robyn Hill," Jasper said as she made my drink.

"It's been slow going though. We had no idea when we bombed the mine it would set all this off. If word ever spread around that we were responsible it would collapse in on us," Bisque informed me.

Jasper slid down my screwdriver and I took a long drink of the hard mixer. I took a seat at the bar. And Bisque leaned his elbows on the counter to talk to me.

"Ah…" I breathed off the alcohol after a moment. "How have the protests been going?"

"Good. The people seem ready to vote for Robyn. She made all kinds of campaign promises to make that happen. New standards for miners. An increase in minimum wages. That sort of thing," Jasper chirped in her usual upbeat tone.

"The people have Avalanche to thank for it and some of them know it. They're listening to us," Bisque followed. "Wenge is out leading a strike right now."

"You can hardly tell that they're still going on from up in Atlas," I murmured around my drink.

"They'll see once Robyn is elected," Bisque said. "And that's just a matter of time. No one down here wants Schnee to have any more power than he already has."

"And up in Atlas?" I asked.

"It's more divided. She still has a twenty point lead over him up there against a forty point lead down here. But it's more scary," Jasper murmured. "Atlas has always done its own thing and usually not to the betterment of Mantle."

"Easy enough to do when the city is so divided," I mumbled.

"Two cities," Bisque corrected.

"Not really," I fired back. And I genuinely believed that. It wasn't so different from the tiered cities of Mistral. Separate but together all the same.

Someone came in behind me and I turned to see Barret. The big bear of a man sauntered in with a new mechanical arm on his right side. It gleamed gunmetal grey and seemed to have a gun built into it. I'd seen more than my fair share of arms like that.

"Good, the merc is here," he said in his gruff tone.

"Been trying to get out of that business, actually. Wasn't sustainable for me," I told him. I crossed my arms.

"Dyne has gone off the deep end. He refused a new mechanical arm in favor of just a machine gun. When his wife, Eleanor, died from dust lung he lost it. He's planning all sorts of mayhem and destruction. He already killed fifteen people. Maybe more."

"I see…" I really didn't. I had no idea what he wanted from me in all of this.

"I'm afraid for his little girl, Marigold. She was hurt recently in the protests. I've been looking after her for the last couple of days. He hasn't even been by. I need your help to stop him, bring him back to his senses."

"What makes you think I'm interested or that you have anything I want?" I asked. My arms still folded.

"I have information. I know you'll wan' it. It's about how your bomb went off prematurely on the White Whale ."

I stared at him hard. He was right. I did want it. "Give me a teaser, so I know you are serious," I demanded of him.

"Sabotage. It was supposed to go off even earlier if the saboteurs had their way," The large man informed me.

I breathed in a deep shuddering sigh. He was right. I did want that information. Whoever they are they got Neo hurt. Amongst everything else, she was my friend. "I can't get caught doing anything that will violate my parole," I informed him.

"Dyne and his gang are criminals right about now. If you're working for the law, it's your job t' bring them in. Alls I'm asking for is a chance to talk t' Dyne before you do."

"And you'll hand over the identity of my saboteurs if I do?" I asked. My bomb going off had been suspicious as all hell to me. I was normally more than proficient with those sorts of bombs despite how flippant I'd been with them. It still stuck out in my mind.

"Got it in one." He grinned at me. Big and fierce under his dark shades. His mechanical arm flexing slightly. I took it in a firm shake.

"Well," I said. "What are we waiting for, then?"

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It was an old warehouse building we pulled up on in Avalanche's truck. I got out first followed by Barrett. "Do these guys have aura?" I asked. "I don't want to kill anybody."

"Some."

"That's just great," I said exasperatedly. I sighed and pulled my shield and my sword. I could probably go easy enough that nobody really got hurt. But still, why couldn't all my opponents have the decency to not only have aura but to broadcast how much aura they had?

Just because I was used to killing people didn't mean that I liked it. And I had seriously killed a lot of people in my time. A lot. If there were people as young as I was who had a higher body count I hadn't heard of them. That was going by either definition of age you wanted to use on me. It didn't matter how you wanted to cut how old I was, I was the ninety ninth percentile on murder and mayhem.

We waltzed in the front door of the place. Leaving Bisque out in the truck.

"Barret…" Dyne turned to look at us from a lowered section of the room where he was talking to a handful of people. There was all kinds of machinery to the room. Cranes and jacks and mining equipment.

"Dyne. I'm here to bring you to Marigold. Your daughter needs you," Barrett said.

"You brought the merc. The dust… brother...it's telling me something…" Dyne trailed off.

Okay. This was coming from me, but this guy had officially lost it. I might not be the most stable iceberg in the sea but crazy recognized crazy and this guy had some helpings of it.

"Is it telling you that you're nuts?" I asked. Barrett shoved me in the ribs with his metallic elbow.

"...the dust. My path of destruction has brought me here…" Dyne trailed off once more. I lingered behind Barret ready to take down all the others in the room. My longsword and great 't' shaped shield at the ready.

"Why are you doing this Dyne? Why'd you kill those people? The protests don't need to be violent." Barrett demanded of him.

"The dust told me to, brother."

"And did the dust tell you why?" Barrett wondered, a touch sardonic.

"Why?" Dyne repeated, a bit mockingly. "Why does there got to be a reason that people do things? Is there a why for Eleanor's death? How about your wife Barrett? There a why for her dying?"

"She...she's already gone. Dust lung. Same as your wife. That's the why." Barrett murmured in his baritone.

"And still you hold on, brother. You could let go. Be like me."

"And start the wanton, chaotic destruction of people and property?"

"Destruction of everything, brother. That's the goal. That's what we're starting," Dyne shot back.

"You used to be just focused on the Schnee. But then you just started hurting everyone and everything."

"Of course brother." Dyne let out a low chuckle. "Had to be done. The dust told me to do it all."

"What's the dust telling you now? Dyne?" Barrett asked. His voice pleading despite the baritone of it.

"It's telling me that I should see Marigold again." Dyne rubbed at his forehead with his real hand like he had a headache.

"That's… that's great news. Let's go see her right now. She's happy and healthy and safe. I've been looking after her. Just like I promised I would."

"She misses her mother, don't she? I'm sure she does…" Dyne trailed off into a low, mad chuckle.

"Dyne… what are you saying?" Barrett wondered.

"I'm saying I should be there to send her to her mother."

"Yikes," I muttered. "That is a yike from me, dog."

"You'd kill your own daughter? You're not the Dyne I used to know!" Barrett shouted. He ignored me. He pointed his wrist down range at Dyne and his accomplices.

"Oh if you point your weapon at me you best come correct," Dyne all but whispered. "You best come with fire and lightnin'!" Then he roared.

"I don't want to fight you Dyne!"

"I suspect you've got no choice, brother!" He pointed his own wrist mounted gun at the two of us. His friends took up their own arms as well. "Or my path of destruction won't end here! I'll go on to consume every man, woman, and child. Just like the dust consumed me! You understand dontcha? Just like the dust consumed me!" He repeated. His voice had a lilt to it that was hard to place. Like he finally understood everything. Instead he was just rambling like a mad man.

I got that. I'd been there and done that. The whole path of destruction thing, too. First one target then the next then the next. Each seeming as good as any other. Was this what it was like to see it from the outside? It seemed like a lost cause but then I'd come back.

Or had I?

Had I really come back? The only things that kept me from slipping had been the thought of my friends. I was with them now. Well not now, now but I was with them in general. I was back. They were worrying about me. I was worrying about them. We were doing what we could for each other just like before. I even had two girlfriends. Two! That was almost twice as many as one and they loved me. I'd felt their love and the beat of their warm hearts wrapped around me. I'd felt it tight around me. If I lost that like Dyne had would I keep going?

I shuddered at the thought. If Ruby or Weiss died that would probably be it for me. That's it. I'm done. I'm out. Maybe I'd kill myself. Maybe I'd just go on a tear. Tyrian had been a mass murderer. A serial killer. For a moment or two I got the appeal of that. Just killing just to kill. Just to feel something. Anything at all. I got that.

Then there was my Mother. Always pressing on the surface of my mind with her tentacles. Would I give in to that? Maybe. Hard maybe.

Maybe I'd lose them again. Maybe I'd have to run away once more. That wasn't the same as them dying on me. But it was still a possibility. Could I stand to do that again? Another hard maybe. At least I'd have Neo. Wretched thing that she was. That we both were. Couldn't exactly throw that stone.

I pointed my sword down the range and let my shield fall by my side. I was ready to move and act. I could see it all now. Barrett and Dyne opening fire on the other. The rest diving to the side while I moved in. Anybody without aura would be getting ripped to shreds.

"It don't have to be like this! We can still walk away, Dyne!"

"Yes it does brother. You know it does! I'm gonna fight and you gotta try and stop me!"

They started shooting. People dived to the side to avoid the spray of bullets. Rounds pinged off my thick aura and I moved. I blurred into a hovering roll and got beside Dyne and his men. I grabbed one and slammed him into my knee and sliced at another I was pretty sure had aura. I cut deep into it then I reached out with my shield hand and tossed him and he flew until he slammed into one of the cranes.

Barrett fired a grenade down into the pit and it exploded sending Dyne rolling with a flare of light blue aura. I sliced at another and bit through his arm. Blood sprayed through the air and he screamed until I punched him in the face with my shield. He went down with a massive bruise forming on his head.

I got on top of Dyne and he opened fire right into my torso with his weapon. The gun arm blared at me and punched holes in my aura that made me stagger about until Barret jumped into the pit and grabbed Dyne's gun arm with his free one and picked him up by it.

He then opened up into Dyne's chest.

I think he meant to stop shooting when Dyne ran out of aura but that grenade had already taken the lion's share of it.

"Don't!" I shouted a moment too late.

A hole blew straight through Dyne's torso and Barrett dropped him in surprise. It left a dying man crawling around on the ground and bleeding out.

"The dust, man. The dust..." Dyne groaned from the pit.

"Dyne!"

"Take this pendant. Give it to Marigold. It belonged to her mother. I can't ever hold her again with these stained hands," Dyne rolled over. "These stained hands." He ripped a pendant from his neck and tossed it up out of the lowered section of floor up at Barrett.

Barrett caught it and could do nothing but watch as Dyne died.

"Mine ain't any cleaner, Dyne," Barrett whispered. "Mine ain't any cleaner."

"Take care of her, like she was your own. Please. Look after my Marigold."

"I will." Barrett vowed. And Dyne died in the pit in the floor of the warehouse.

I stabbed my sword into the ground and listened to the sounds of the oncoming sirens.

"Those going to be a problem for you?" I indicated my head in the direction the sirens were coming from. I sheathed my sword and put the whole rig back on my shoulder.

"Nah man. I suppose you'll be wanting your information," he spoke downtrodden and muted compared to his normally fierce voice.

"Yeah. That'd be great."

"It was the Happy Huntresses. They have this invisibility field. They wanted to shut down your op," he told me. He rubbed his face in his hands. Reaching underneath the glasses he wore to rub at his eyes.

"Thanks." I told him. I wiped a few beads of sweat from my brow. "Best of luck with the little girl. That can be a lot to deal with."

"Thank you. For everything," he managed.

"What will you do now?" I asked.

He stretched. "I might join Avalanche. They could use someone like me."

"Might be a good fit. You've got a little girl to look after now, though. Will the terrorism agree with you?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I can't let her grow up in a world I know I could have done more for. For my wife. And for Dyne. I know I have to do more. You got people you have to do more for?"

"Yeah. These two ladies and their teammates. I'd kill and die for them."

"You want some advice?" He asked.

"Sure," I said. I could use some genuine advice in the spot I was in. It sounded like he'd lived through it. I could take it.

"Any old fool can kill and die for something. It takes a man to live and let live for something."

I just nodded. Maybe fucking so. It was easy to kill things. So fucking easy. It was so much harder to keep something alive.

I listened and waited for the sirens.

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-WG

#rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #white rose #whiterose #white knight #whiteknight #lancaster #war of the roses #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #biggs #jessie rasberry #wedge #cloud strife #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!jaune arc #barret wallace

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betawithablog · 4 years

Note

Headcanons for the greek gods as omegas?

(I assume you mean as Omegaverse and not for them all to be Omegas cus there’s no way Ares is Omega lol)

This is gonna be the 12(.5) Olympians and the royal couple of the underworld

Zeus: Alpha, a very obvious Alpha. Leader of the Olympian pack. If we're going with the personality he has in the myths then he's the kind of douchebag Alpha who thinks it's his right to go around knotting whoever he fancies; I imagine his pheromones are pretty powerful too. Like, send-you-into-an-surprise-heat kind of powerful. If we're going with how the ancient Greeks actually saw Zeus though he's the absolute best provider. Big dad vibes towards everyone who's even a little bit younger than him (which... y’know, given that he's a god is almost everyone).

Hera: Omega. The kind of Omega that has a dominant, leader's streak; the kind born to be the leader's mate. She has that Omega's need for love and attention (which Zeus really needs to work on giving her smh) and likes to pamper her body (see: pool that she bathes in every night that somehow magically makes her not a virgin anymore... yeah idk either, blame the ancient Greeks). She does, however, lack a natural maternal instinct (see: yeeting baby Hephaestus off of mt. Olympus), so I feel like she could potentially also be a Beta.

Poseidon: Alpha. Originally he was actually the leader of the Olympian pack (no that's not a headcanon - the Macedonians actually considered Poseidon to be the head of the Olympians). I imagine him to be a kind of rugged-looking Alpha - like an strong old fisherman with rough palms and speckled grey hair - with an air of calm and control that can switch to chaotic and aggressive in an instant's notice - like the ocean itself.

Hestia: Omega. Absolutely 100% Omega. The kind of Omega who's very presence makes you feel soothed, her hugs are warm and soft (not just because she always wears fluffy cardigans), her nest is absolute perfection - beautiful, calming to be in, and cosy - and she's always got something divine (if you'll excuse the pun) in the oven. Always purring kin the kitchen. Absolute biggest mama vibes. She smells like a bakery; chocolate and pastry. Holy shit I love Hestia.

Demeter: Alpha. Considered her, perhaps, as an Omega on account of her being a fertility agriculture goddess but she just doesn't strike me as the placating, gentle type. Quite the opposite. She fought stubbornly for her daughter to remain at her side, and she's the goddess of law too - she's not the rolling-over-showing-her-neck type at all. I picture her as an absolute Unit; muscles for days from all the years harvesting crops. The no-nonsense kind of Alpha.

Aphrodite: Omega. The hypersexual kind of Omega. I believe I've seen them called 'Pack Omegas' - the type that do best when they're in a relationship with lots of people, practically (or literally) a whole pack. Also the beauty-obsessed kind of Omega. Takes ten hours to get her clothes, hair, and makeup done yet somehow she turns the whole process into a mesmerising dance. She turns everything into a mesmerising dance. Another I imagine with knock-out strong pheromones that have Alphas falling to their knees for her. She smells like roses.

Athena: Alpha. Another leader-type Alpha - literally has Athens named after her, and she's very proud of her people... despite some of the absolute nonsense she's had to witness from them throughout the ancient years. A very adept and skilled fighter and strategist - likes to know everything about a situation before rushing in. She's an incredibly supportive and wise lead Alpha, the kind that the pack feels they can go to with whatever problem they might have. I feel like she could also easily be a Beta, but she's got such a strong sense of being dominant and in charge it's hard to see her as anything but an Alpha.

Ares: Alpha. Less of a leader-type Alpha, lbr, more of a team player. The kind of Alpha that runs into things without thinking, relying on instinct and, on the battlefield, pure rage. Your average Aggressive Type Alpha who's ready to kill for anyone in his pack. Can come across as a bit of a meat head... and can be a bit of a meat head at times... Yet I imagine him as a really loving, doting mate, which initially surprises a lot of people; seeing this big burly 6ft< Alpha who smells like fire and blood smiling dopily as picks out the perfect dainty jewellery for Aphrodite.

Hephaestus: Beta. My poor poor bastard boy. Very crafty and creative (see: trapping his mother in a beautiful trick throne he built as revenge for yeeting him off the mountain as a baby). Likes to think his creations through and plan genius contraptions. He could very easily also be an Alpha, what with the fact he's a blacksmith, which is a rather Alpha job. But I guess I lean towards Beta because, even though he's a bit of a social outcast on account of his leg and general appearance, he's clearly desperate to be more socially involved with the pack and doesn't want to be a lone wolf.

Artemis: Alpha. Surprisingly nonsexual for an Alpha. Very much a lone wolf. Loves spending her days out in the forest. You wouldn't think she's an Alpha to look at her, but she'd surprise you with how strong she is. Also very good at using her opponent's strength against them. Because of her build, she's considered the protector of Omegas; most Omegas would feel very safe in her presence. She's got this mysterious edge to her that just uncontrollably draws you in... like the moon.

Apollo: Omega. Ah, sweet darling disaster bisexual... I just imagine him being very soft and sensitive (not that he can't kick ass on a battlefield, see: his involvement in the battles of the Iliad). He has an artist's soul and an angel's voice. His serenades are totally his courting gifts. I imagine him revelling in being doted on, and always eager for fuss and attention. He has a beautiful Omegan frame, and he loves decorating himself in luxurious garb and crowns of flowers and leaves. He smells like laurel and somehow also sunshine. No one knows how this is possible but he does.

Hermes: Beta. And nooo I'm not just saying that because he's my favourite and that's the dynamic I best identify with (>_>) He really is such a Beta though. I've a headcanon that Beta's love travelling and exploring and he's literally the God of that so y'know. He's also so quick thinking and witty: represented himself in a what was basically a godly court case where he was guilty of thievery and won when he was literally a baby. He's hardly ever submissive to anyone but he hardly ever uses aggression or physical force to get his way/get out of trouble. He smells like ripe strawberries and the metallic tinge of coins.

Dionysus: Beta. The eccentric, outgoing, party type Beta; wants to be surrounded by friends having a good time all the time. He smells like booze; in the morning it's a little off-putting, but in the evening its literally intoxicating. I imagine his mortal Maenads needing only his scent to drive them into a frenzy. Not the kind of Beta you'd expect to also have the Supportive Beta streak, but he absolutely does; he lives to support his friends and gives the kind of advice you don't realise is advice at first and later hits you like an epiphany, and it was exactly what you needed to hear.

Persephone: Beta. Difficult one, but I had to go with Beta because she strikes me as a very gentle, delicate goddess of spring that could easily have her classified as Omega, but in winter she's the no-nonsense, dominant queen of the underworld that could have her classified as an Alpha. Overall, I think this shows her adaptability, which is a very Beta trait. Also, she's not really as needy and dependent as an Omega traditionally is. Things might have happened to her beyond her control, but she very much took back control and has both Hades and Demeter wrapped around her little finger. Of course, she smells like pomegranates, and spring blossom.

Hades: Omega. I have such a soft spot for soft!Hades. But he's kind of the reverse of Artemis in that you would not think to look at him that he's an Omega, you'd assume he's an Alpha, especially considering his position as ruler of the underworld. But he's a softy at heart, and adores material possessions (which I consider a bit of an Omegan trait). He mopes all the way through spring and summer at the lack of Persephone's presence, cooped up in his nest the whole time until autumn rolls around and she comes back into his life. He has a very earthy scent.

bonus:

Hermaphrodite: All three! Thought I'd include Hermaphrodite because they flashed through my mind and I wondered what might be classified as intersex in a/b/o. Of course, that depends on how you hc biology for the dynamics but I thought what would perhaps make Hermaphrodite an outcast/outlier could be their body, scent, and instincts being a mix of all three dynamics.

thanks for the ask 💞

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sunlitroom · 4 years

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pt 2. So I kinda gravitated towards this idea of what Jerome was saying. That there is a killer inside him, and he needs a push to let it out. But then, in my perspective it's kinda "comforting" to take that stance, rather than except the alternative of this mousey man who wants to do good(as good as he can at least) and doesn't want to be like his brother, and wants to be Bruce's friend-end up bad anyway. So maybe I don't choose that option? Because it's more uncomfortable in a way cont..

pt 3. Sorry stupid character limit XD I mean, rather I lean towards that he was dark and as you said there was a lot of tension with him..but that the gas freed all of that darkness uninhibited. He's really just kind of a walking mass of contradictions I feel. I don't think he was a boy scout. But I think he could have been a better man without the gas. Completely avoiding darkness? No XD (because what would be the fun in that really) But KINDA like Will Graham maybe. Sorta.

pt 4.? One last thing and I swear this'll be it XD You dont' have to post all these. I notice he is sorta hot/cold. In the sense that..I read an article about him stating that it's sorta unclear how he felt about Ecco. Like did he really care about her as a person or more as an asset, and to protect him. They noted it wasn't clear if he was relieved to see HER unharmed specifically, or he was just glad his protection was ok. And about the death of his boss he just says 'tragic'. Coldlike?

Hey again anon :) I spliced your posts together, if that’s OK.

I can see what you mean about finding it more comforting to believe that there was some kind of deep wrongness in Jeremiah – because the alternative: that he had a difficult past, but was trying to do the best he could, and fell head over heels for Bruce – only to wind up losing his sanity to the gas….that’s pretty tragic. I think that’s the way I read it, but I agree – it’s horribly sad.

I suppose if you prefer that ‘killer inside him’ idea, then it could come down to which Gotham philosophy you like best about good vs bad, and what makes a criminal.

On one side, you have Barnes and Ed. They both talk with Jim about darkness, and violence and monsters, and essentially say the same thing:

Jim and Barnes

Jim – I nearly crossed the line

Barnes - Let me tell you something about the line…. I’m just a man. And at the right moment, a man might do anything. Any man. There is no line. There’s just the law, that‘s what separates us from the animals. There is no line.

Jim and Ed

Jim - How did this happen to you? How did you become this?

Ed - You dummy. This is who I am. It was just finally admitting the truth to myself. Well, that and murdering some people.

Jim - I don't believe that.

Ed - You don't believe it. Why, Jim? ‘Cause it would make you incompetent to know that I was right under your nose the whole time? Or you don't want to admit that there's a monster in all of us? Because you, of all people, should know that!

….

Jim - You're completely insane.

Ed - Yeah. It's probably easier for you to think that.

To Barnes and Ed, every single person has the capacity for villainy – even the best of us. To Barnes, the only thing that keeps everyone in line is the law.

On the other side, you’ve got Jim. Jim doesn’t like that. He wants to understand what ‘makes’ someone like that: what’s the difference between ‘us’ and ‘them’? What happened to them? Could you have avoided it?

To see Jeremiah as having a killer inside him, you could take a middle path, I suppose – which is sort of what Jerome does? You might have something monstrous inside you, but it takes one bad day to let it free. The gas might be the final push, but let’s face it: there’s been a slow, steady drip, drip, drip throughout his whole life.

Look to their childhood. We know that Jeremiah was the favourite, and Jerome was seen as beyond redemption after Jeremiah left – but that doesn’t mean things were idyllic before that. Jerome paints a chaotic, violent, upsetting picture of life at the circus. Jeremiah might not have borne the brunt of the neglect and abuse, but it’s certainly likely he saw things a child shouldn’t have seen.

Also – just because Jeremiah was ‘the favourite’ – that doesn’t mean there wasn’t an enormous amount of strain placed on him. It’s possible Jeremiah was the conscientious ‘good’ one that Jerome described because Jeremiah saw that as a strategy for avoiding abuse. Be good, be clever, keep your room clean, do as you’re told – and you won’t be screamed at, or hit, or neglected.

So by the time he escapes life at the circus, there’s already possibly a lot of repressed rage built up – and really carefully repressed in Jeremiah’s case, because being angry is dangerous – being angry might make you Jerome, whom he hates and fears. Being angry might mean you’re not the ‘good boy’ anymore, and leave you vulnerable to your mother’s neglect and abuse.

Then you’ve got his time at school. Goodness knows what that was like. A ‘good’ school with lots of well-heeled Gotham children, and a preternaturally intelligent little boy, who behaves oddly, and is secretive about his background shows up? That’s unlikely to have gone well. Even worse if they found out about his family and past.

Even as an adult, when we meet him – his life doesn’t look too fun. His indulgences aside – his home looks dark and dreary. There’s no evidence of friends or lovers – no sign that he’s in touch with family. He’s learned that his mother was killed. He’s living with the constant fear that his brother will find him and murder him.

So yes – if you want to see him as someone who has a lot of darkness and rage banked down - someone who is maybe harbouring murderous feelings, I think it’s definitely plausible.

#meta #Anonymous #jeremiah valeska #ed nygma #jerome valeska #nathaniel barnes

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misc-headcanons · 4 years

Text

(The Straw Hats and Scabbards at the castle ruins, as well as Katakuri's children and O-Tama are eating dinner. The large dining room in the castle has been mostly cleaned of dust and cobwebs, but it's clear that it's been abandoned like the rest of the area for years. Vanilla is talking excitedly with O-Tama, Fritter is keeping to himself, Dochi and Ube are eagerly listening to Luffy talk about his previous adventures, and Maple is expertly eavesdropping on every conversation at once while she eats.)

Vanilla: Wow, you're a ninja-in-training, O-Tama? I'm a witch-in-training! Or, well, I dunno if "witch" is the right word. My momma always says that not everyone who uses magic's a witch, but I like saying it. Papa says I'm too cute to be a witch, but I think witches can be cute. Ninjas can be cute too, right?

O-Tama: I guess so. But I wanna be strong and stealthy as a kunoichi, not cute. I'm training to be a force to be reckoned with!

Vanilla: Yeah, but I think you can be a great fighter AND cute. I mean look at Mr. Chopper! He's a member of Luffy's crew so he can fight really well, but he's super fluffy and sweet too.

Chopper: Awww, who're ya calling a good fighter and cute? How dare you, hehehe~

Vanilla: See? Cool AND cute, just like you, O-Tama!

(Sanji notices Fritter's silence so far and gently puts a hand on his shoulder.)

Sanji: How do you like the soup, Fritter?

Fritter: Oh! Um, it's...it's really good. I'm happy I finally got to eat something you made, even if it wasn't at the castle. You really are a good cook, Uncl--Um, Not-Uncle Sanji.

Sanji: I think I remember Pudding saying you wanted to be a chef one day when you grew up, right?

Fritter: Uh-huh. Dochi and Ube wanna be fighters, and Maple's gonna be in charge of communi--um...comm-you...

Maple, offhandedly: Communications. What Uncle Monty does, remember?

Fritter: Yeah, that. So everyone in the family can talk to each other easy and not get messages wrong. And she's probably gonna be a really important Minister too, since she's so smart and good with magic. But I just wanna cook and bake in the kitchen with the chefs. They like to let me watch while they work, and I have my own chair where I sit and watch and everything!

Sanji: I bet you'll be a great chef, just like your Aunt Chiffon with cake and your Aunt Pudding with chocolate.

(Fritter smiles up at Sanji.)

Fritter: Thanks. I'm gonna make people happy whenever I cook something, just like you!

(Dochi and Ube are seated next to each other, practically bouncing in their seats as they hear more and more about the Straw Hats and the Scabbards)

Dochi: Wait, Miss Nami, you managed to make Zeus YOUR familiar!? Holy crap, that's so cool! I mean, Grandma probably doesn't think it is, but still...wow! Do you use magic like mom?

Nami: Well, I dunno if it's how your mom does things, haha. I mean the people I learned from were called "weather wizards", but it's more about science and learning about climate and stuff than spells.

Maple: Mom always says that "magic is just science turned sideways." Both have solid theories on how they work, and experimenting with both makes you more knowledgeable and powerful. Plus, even if it isn't powered by magic specifically, your staff seems like it has similar functions to mom's.

Ube: And Luffy, I still can't believe you fought Papa and didn't like...die! He's never fought anyone like you before. And the way you two weaponized your softer powers with rubber and Mochi with Armament Haki!? That was so cool!

Dochi: Yeah! Me and Ube were going nuts the whole fight while we watched through one of Auntie Brulee's mirrors. If Mama hadn't held us back, we woulda definitely tried to watch in-person.

Ube: And WE wouldn't ruin it the way Flampe tried to, either. I can't believe she thought Papa needed her help. OOOH, and when she started making fun of Papa's face--

Dochi: Yeah, that was WAY out of line... Mama had to put me and Ube into our own bubbles so we couldn't hop in there to kick her ass!

Vanilla, in a scandalized tone: Dochi! Don't say that! Auntie Flampe was really mean, but still...

Ube: You're right, 'Nilla. We were ready to kick Flampe's butt. And with that dress she wears all the time, it woulda been easy to kick that big, stupid, floating BUTT of hers!

(Fritter, Vanilla, and O-Tama snicker and try to hide how much they're smiling and giggling behind their hands.)

Luffy: How is Katakuri, anyway? I didn't really get to see if he got taken care of or anything before I had to get to my ship. That Mirror Lady probably got to him, right?

Ube: He had to stay in bed for a few weeks, but Mama and Auntie Brulee worked hard to make him better.

Vanilla: And me and Fritter, too! I helped with healing magic on his little cuts and scrapes, and Fritter always fluffed his pillows and stuff.

Fritter: Yeah, and I helped the chefs make donuts for his Meriendas too!

Ube: Oh. Uh yeah, they helped too. But most of it was Brulee being a good nurse and Mom being good with her magic. The day we fell through the portal here, he was taking walks and stuff every day.

Dochi: Heh, and practicing with his trident whenever he knew Mom wasn't around to scold him for getting too carried away.

Luffy: Aw, I get that. Chopper's always saying I'm not healed up enough to do stuff sometimes after a big fight, but I just do it anyway. I bet Katakuri's the same way with your mom.

(Maple's attention is turned to Law.)

Maple: So, I imagine that if you and Luffy are allies, you're the one with a plan to take Kaido on. You seem more...um, strategic than him.

Law: That's one way of putting it...Yes, I do have a plan.

Maple: Hm. You know, now that I know you two were planning to target him, some of the news about you makes a bit more sense. Destroying the main resources for SMILE production in Punk Hazard; kidnapping that idiot scientist to use as leverage in Dressrosa; defeating Doflamingo, Kaido's most powerful ally outside of his own crew and a major source of intel, manpower, and influence...I had a feeling that there was something tying it together.

Law: You're pretty sharp for someone your age. I'm not surprised your Uncle Mont-d'or would want you as the head of communication and intel for the Big Mom Pirates after he's gone.

Maple: Thanks. I'm just glad that there's some explanation for why you and Luffy's crew were seen traveling and fighting together so often. Though to be honest, I was surprised to hear that Doflamingo was sent to prison; if what I'd heard and seen about your history was true, I was expecting you to kill Doflamingo in Dressrosa. But Luffy doesn't seem to support killing your enemies if you can help it.

Law: How do you--

Maple: Don't worry, the Big Mom pirates don't know about that. Not even Uncle Monty does.

Law: And how do you?

Maple: The same way I know the Scabbards over there got sent through time and how they're the surviving retainers of Lord Oden, and that they're trying to defeat Kaido and this Orochi guy so Momonosuke can take his rightful place on the throne. Keeping secrets from me is a pretty hard thing to do.

Ube: Yeesh, quit acting so mysterious. You know everyone's business because you know Mom's spells on reading someone's memories and the All-Seeing Eye and--mmpgh!

(Maple's uses a quick spell to make Ube's tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. She narrows her eyes and frowns at him.)

Maple: And how to stop brothers from sharing too much with strangers. For someone who wants to be a leader within Big Mom's pirate crew, you'd think you'd remember that loose lips sink ships, Ube.

Vanilla: I thought most of Gramma's ships sank after people shot a bunch of cannons and bombs at 'em...

(After she stops giggling, Dochi uses some of her own magic to free Ube's tongue. Ube glares at Maple before turning to ask Zoro about what it's like to fight with a sword in your mouth.)

Maple: Look, I know you're a smart man and you clearly have a talent for strategy. But I just want to make what the backup is in case things go wrong.

Law: You're a newcomer, you don't even know the full extent of the plan, and you're demanding to know more? Just because you're a clever kid with magic, that doesn't mean I'm going to reveal every step of this to you. Your uncle had to have taught you that only one person should ever know the full strategy plan, and that's the one who planned it out.

Maple: Yeah, he did. I'm not asking you to trust me that much; if I were in your position, I certainly wouldn't. All I want to know is what my siblings and I can do to help and ensure that when things go wrong, we can be useful and get things back on track. You've just been handed a very valuable wild card, and I want to make sure you use us wisely.

Dochi: Whaddya mean 'when things go wrong', Maple? With Law's crew, the Straw Hats, the Scabbards, and all the allies they've got here, we're all super strong and you said that Law's really good with strategy.

Maple: True. But when it comes to HIM...(Maple gestures to Luffy, who's gulping down the last of his soup) you have the wildest card of all. And he seems to blow through any well-laid plan without any second thought. (She leans back in her chair a bit and crosses her arms) Whatever plan you have in mind, Mr. Law, it's pointless if you really haven't got a backup in mind for whenever he manages to completely ruin it.

Kin'emon: Do you really think someone as young and inexperienced as yourself could come up with a better idea?

Maple: I'm young, not inexperienced. Believe me, as the eldest in a family of five siblings imbued with magic and various forms of Haki, I'm an expert in making plans that are bound to be thrown off course by the chaotic whims of someone close to you. So, Mr. Law...what have you got in mind?

#one piece #one piece oc #dochi #maple #ube #vanilla #fritter #oc #wano #wano spoilers

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askbittyerror · 4 years

Text

Wedding RP part 9

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 Blue has decided the wise thing to do is clearly to retreat closer to the tree. And wonder at how their kiddo manages to take more after them than they even are themself.(edited)

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {the sounds of boot steps suddenly rise above the din of noise} You are not used to such chaos I am guessing {The guardian said walking over. He can see why Bells called themselves their mother's double. Almost identical} Hello you are Bells's mother~ {Not exactly a question as the guardian gives a slight bow}

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 Blue blinks, looks up... and up... "Oh, I'm used to chaos. But this much chaos tends to lead to me either being murdered, or someone just trying to, not realizing theyre a hundred years late for that ride." ...maybe a little blunt. "Um. But, yes. I am."

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {He offers his hand and when he gets theirs he actually gives it a small kiss. He is without his gauntlet today. No need for it at a wedding but his gloves are of a supple leather and soft to the touch} I suppose that is true. Sadly I guess this is the chaos we bring. Its nice to finally meet you Blue. It is not often I get the honor to meet the maker ... or origin of any of my lovers

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 "..." yeah, they werent expecting that. "I wish i could take credit for that," they deny quietly, not drawing their hand away, "but even if they were made with my magic, I'm not their maker." "...origin though," a smile, if faint, as they lift their gaze to his again, "maybe. part anyway."

feather bean💙09/27/2020 a feather arives over here

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {He grins} You have a good soul. They take after you greatly. It is only recently they have become more ... assertive. Its like night and day honestly how much Bells has grown since I have met them {He chuckled} I am happy though I get to meet you without you wanting to punch me {gasp a Feather has arrived! Dream looks to them and smiles more} Feather. It has been a long time small one

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 "Wait, pun-" "...Feather?" Oh. An asker... a child asker? Huh. "Hi Feather, i'm Blue." Meanwhile theyre only more puzzled by their offspring's relationships... apparently though, it somehow works for them? ...that kind of makes the whole taking near death in stride a little easier to believe. "...why did they want to punch you?"

feather bean💙09/27/2020 "hi blue!" they wave at blue and then to dream "it has- sorry for not visiting much-"

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {He hummed} Its alright you have your reasons. Shame though I dont have any treats for you {he chuckles and looks at Blue winking about their first comment} Because they were upset about Ink and the state he was in so when I got back everyone came to break my face for a bit for his honor

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 "...Ink." they echo, naturally thinking of the bitty version they knew, but pretty sure that's not who he meant. "..." they consider Feather, then Juice, then simply, "So... are you one of my son in laws too?"(edited)

feather bean💙09/27/2020 Pats for dream "is ok If you don't have any treats for me-"

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {He chuckles} Ah but I enjoy spoiling the younger askers when they come { He looks back to Blue and hums} I think that is a yes because if I say anything other than that Bells will probably personally kick my ass {He says this with great amusement}

Askbittyerror09/27/2020 The bitties watch silently, Mercury still in excited-want-hug vibration mode and Paladin and Magnus staring at Juice with no small amount of wariness.

salty darkness09/27/2020 Nintendo takes a moment or two to actually process Juice's words- mainly because he's busy trying to stop Archer from getting at the cake. Eventually, he bundles the smol into his arms, turning around and begrudgingly walking over to his boyfriend, and the group he's amassed. "..." "Hi."

feather bean💙09/27/2020 feather waves to Nintendo "hi-"(edited)

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 "...fair. I think." It sounded like he was joking, and not even in an unfamiliar way. in fact they'd probably laugh if, well, all that hadn't just happened.

the sight of the very tall comparitively to what they're used to, anyway Ink sort with purple wings, gives them pause. very little, admittedly, and more surprise than anything, before they offer a smile to him too.

"Are you the Ink whose honor Bells was ready to defend?"

salty darkness09/27/2020 The apparently-tall-Ink snorts, leaning on Juice's shoulder. The baby in his arms babbles, reaching out to greet and probably try and hug all of these new friends and faces.

"No, clearly I'm a destroyer of worlds come to murder you for daring to even look in my direction." a small laugh. "...I'm their brother. And you are?"

Askbittyerror09/27/2020 "I'm Magnus, their Dad." Mangus points to himself. "Blue is my mate and their mom." "Paladin. His brother, their uncle." Paladin nods, not taking his eyes off Juice for a second. "Domino," Domino nuzzles his mate. "And Licorice. Grandparents. May I hug you?" "Mercury!" Mercury absolutely vibrates, barely contained in Jabber's arms. "Brother also! Want hug you and also bab please please please please?" "I'm Jabber." Jabber smiles, trying to keep his mate from just combusting with excitement. "I'm his mate." "Gold." Gold peeks out. "Beryl." Beryl smiles, hugging him. "We're Mercury's brothers."

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 The baby catches their attention first, a smile instantly loghting up their face, before his words register. "brother?" They look interested now. "Bells has mentioned you! um, not in more than passing, but... things have been, busy." A bit apologetically? "um, anyway... I'm Blue. mom, apparently. which I wasn't expecting, but... I'm, not really opposed to either. They seem, good." even if they make a solid point not to think too hard about where they came from

feather bean💙09/27/2020 oh Lots of people are here- they Wave to all of them -

Askbittyerror09/27/2020 Magnus and Paladin immediately nuzzle. "You okay, beloved?" Magnus asks gently.

salty darkness09/27/2020 Nintendo is quiet for a few seconds, just kinda absorbing information... and watching the bitties. Archer babbles, reaching out to hug, and he lets them.

"..." "First of all, I already have a dad, so you're going to have to share."

A huff, and he curls his wings around, fiddling with the circlet on his head. "Second of all, the Omniverse is already stupid and crazy, so more extended family might as well happen." He watches Blue for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "...are you okay?"

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 "..." they nuzzle Magnus for comfort, before admitting, "mostly. waking up one day to find out you've had a kid, with something like that... thing... without consent or awareness, and you've apparently missed their entire life, and-"

Askbittyerror09/27/2020 More nuzzles from the entire family.

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {Dream looks amused pulling Ink closer to himself kissing his jaw. he lets the group talk before he looks to Blue... his aura suddenly is there. something warm and comforting like being rapped up in a blanket right out of the dryer. He was able to actually pick and choose whom his aura touches. Ink as always only senses it but not feeling it. there is a strange potency to his aura compared to all the ones Blue has been around. one dream taught to be a warrior and angry, one too young to realize that he had or would have such powers. and the bitty... well its like a fine aged wine compared to a young vintage. they were the "same" but not the same}(edited)

feather bean💙09/27/2020 they Pat blue

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 The words fall quiet, as they nuzzle their family, one at a time, before turning back to Juice again. There's a long moment of just looking at him- then they smile. "Thank you, but that isn't necessary. My family does the same when I have a panic attack, but-" "- but shy of that, I'd sooner try to come to terms with my emotions myself, when I can. I hope that makes sense?" The child gets a soft pat back, if a bit distracted. Child askers are a new one on them... but, chikd, and offering comfort. "And thank you too."

feather bean💙09/27/2020 "its No Problem"

salty darkness09/27/2020 Archer wraps their arms around Blue, nuzzling and flapping their wings. Good smol. Comforting smol.

Nintendo gives Juice a vaguely upset look, but doesn't elaborate beyond that. "..." "Ahem. Uh. Yeah. Nice to meet you, and... stuff."

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 Baby... distracting baby. Cute wonderful happy adorable- -nothing against Juice's aura, but this? this is much more effectively disttacting.

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {he looks amused. automatic reaction as his aura is and all} This is Archer {He adds watching Blue take him and cuddle him} they are Ink and my and Erebus's bab

with-bells-upon09/27/2020 aaand again with the pause, looking from him to Nintendo to baby, and back. "...my surprise kiddo has made themself an interesting family tree, haven't they?"

salty darkness09/27/2020 Nintendo shrugs. "My boyfriend- Juice- fused with Erebus to create an entirely new being called Morpheus. I slept with said being. Now there's Archer." "...and now I have two boyfriends."

Happy Archer! Such a happy Archer! Happy Archer with a very happy aura!

Askbittyerror09/27/2020 The bitties, all but Magnus and Paladin, seem to relax at Juice's aura, smiling happily. Magnus and Paladin nuzzle their person, growling softly, auras rising, pushing back the best they can.

JusticeMom09/27/2020 {Its not Juice's aura they have to worry about its the melt the person happy baby aura who makes anyone not used to it a useless giddy lump for a bit that has to be worried about.} Archer {Dream says trying to catch the happy child off guard to loose his hold on his aura} and probably more of a. find very chaotic timelines only to build a family out of them

#wedding rp #part 9

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egg-and-koji · 4 years

Text

“Shadows of a Legacy” Lok Fanfic Ch 3 - Mako

160 AG

“Mako, come now, my sweet Dragonfly. We have to keep up with the line.”

At the airship station in Republic City, a mother called her young son. She held her hand out for him which he grasped as sacred. As they walked, he copied her steps; his gait overextended so his shorter legs kept up with her tiger-swan ones. When they reached the back of the waiting crowds, his grip on her soft, slender hand loosened as he jumped, trying to look over the people.

“I think. I see. Dad and Bo,” Mako said with each hop.

His mother laughed softly as she fixed his spiked widows’ peak. “I promise you’ll be taller than your father someday.”

The eight-year-old raised his sharply angled eyebrows and gave her a small crooked smirk. His mother pulled him close, hugged her arms around him then clasped his small hands between hers and held their arms out like the bow of a ship. “S.S. Naoki is clear for sailing, Captain Mako,” she whispered into his temple.

“Aye-aye!” He cheered and with a mix of giggles and engine sounds, the two politely cut through the waves of people to reach the rest of their family.

“Oh no, Captain! A pirate has First Mate Bo!”

A six-foot, middle-aged man dressed in a red scarf twisted around to face them. “Mwah haha, you’re too late to save him, Captain Mako,” he snarled dramatically out of the corner of his mouth and bounced the little chubby boy on his shoulders. “This whipper snapper’s turned to a life of pirating!”

Bolin wrapped his father’s scarf around his own head and shouted, “Yar!” A bell marked the arrival of an airship. He dropped the scarf and wiggled against his father’s head. “It’s here, it’s here!”

“Easy, little caterpillar, you’ll take my eye out with your heel,” his father chuckled.

The young family moved with the flow of bodies as they lined up to have their tickets authenticated. Bolin ran his chubby fingers through his father’s greying hair, gripping tight whenever he pretended to drop him on Mako. The older brother laughed and tugged on the younger’s suspenders, making him whine and pop his thumb in his mouth for comfort. Naoki frowned at him and gently tugged on his hair.

Mako sighed and allowed her to usher him forward in front of her. His scrawny shoulders were caged in her silk-wrapped arms; his shelter; warm and loving as always. He tucked his arms up in hers, securing himself further as the comfort melted his bones. In every sense of the word; she was his world. When his firebending manifested two years ago, he deemed himself her protector; neither she nor his father were benders. The neighbors often teased Naoki, saying she made him without her husband San’s help. Mako had her pale ivory skin, sleek rook black hair, sunset orange eyes, and finely angled eyebrows. At least Bolin looked more like their father.

“Do Granma and Granpa know we’re coming, Dad?” Mako tilted his head up to San walking beside them.

“I’m sure they received my letter,” he answered. “And I know they'll be very excited to meet you, boys.”

“But you said Granpa was sick?”

“He is,” his mother answered with a gentle squeeze, “and that’s why we’re going to Ba Sing Se before he gets too sick for visitors.”

“What about momma’s Granma and Granpa?” Bolin slurred around his thumb.

“You mean mom’s mom and dad, not their mom and dad, Thumbsucker,” Mako mocked then tugged on his foot. Bolin whined and kicked away from him, his heel digging into their father’s armpit.

“Hey, come one now,” San warned.

As they inched closer to the ticket booth, Bolin squirmed. “I gotta potty!”

“I thought you took him already,” Naoki asked.

San turned to her with a disappointed look and whispered, “He tried.”

“I know where the bathroom is,” Mako beamed, “I can take him!”

“Hold on a second,” his father stopped Bolin from trying to wriggle off him. His stubby legs dangled as he touched the ground. San removed his scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around Mako. He weaved it around his neck like a tie. “There. Now we can find you in the crowd.”

Mako pulled the red cloth up over his nose; it smelled like his father’s cologne; a mix of the restaurant’s wood oven, cigars from his patrons, and a hint of Panda Lily from whenever he hugged Naoki.

“Come on, Bo,” Mako said, grabbing his little brother’s free hand.

“Mako keep your little brother safe. Bolin, make sure you don’t let go of your brother’s hand, sweetie. Use your manners, boys. Oh and wash your hands,” Naoki called out after her sons as they disappeared in the sea of loud strangers and trolley whistles.

170 AG - Present Day

“Hey! You gettin’ off here kid?” The trolley conductor barks at Mako, taking him out of his brief, unsatisfying nap. Amber eyes snap up at the old metalbender. He points out the window behind Mako’s head. “You said the police headquarters.”

“Yeah,” Mako grumbles, stretches from his slouched position against one of the trolley’s leaning poles then hops off.

The mist that started at the end of his shift picked up into a drizzle. He pulls up the collar of his jacket to keep the rain from soaking his neck and scarf. The squeal of metal on metal echoes down the road as the conductor and rear metalbender push and pull the trolley on the rest of its route.

A break in traffic lets Mako jog across the busy street to the front door of the Republic City's Police Headquarters. He drops his chin and shoves his hands in his pockets as he ducks in behind a sobbing family.

The chaotic movement of employees and civilians roars through the massive building. Wild, ringing alarms and telephones amplify the headache he desperately tried to ignore on the ride here.

Suck it up, Champ, he tells himself over the noise.

He makes his way to the record department passing an elite metalbender officer sticking his nose up past a couple of out-of-shape, under-trained non-bender auxiliaries. Two upper-middle-class couples shout petty insults at each other and hurl baseless Equalist accusations. A freshly arrested triad initiate gets berated by a loud, red-faced shop owner, bringing up a shameful sense of deja vu for Mako.

It’s odd to walk through the station without an escort and metal bracelets around his wrists. But the last few years haven’t given him a reason to be in any type of trouble with the law; the Fire Ferrets have gained a steady fan following and are now the team to look out for this season. Even better with the increase in Triad and Equalist activity.

Tension in the city has gotten worse since Amon’s disciples started publicly protesting again. As such it’s not unusual for some mistaken hooligans to get a little roughed up before getting cleared of whatever minor infraction brought them in.

Mako rounds the corner of the main hall towards the department of records but stops and ducks back around the same corner.

Shit.

Shady Shin’s obnoxious blue trench coat isn’t hard to miss against all the wood and metal features of the building. Mako slips away in the other direction, taking the long way around. He’d rather not deal with the Triple Threat right now; not after the other day. As if Bolin’s water tribe damsel even needed his help.

Leave it to Bo to try to “save” the Avatar.

All he can do is suck it up and hope they have more important shit to deal with. He runs a hand through his damp hair, spiking up the front in his usual style, and straightens out his jacket before entering the department office.

Shadows from towering metal filing cabinets and massive volumes of paperwork cast over the front window. A few weeks ago this room was nice and tidy. The only thing remotely clean is the desk pushed up against the front. But no one’s there.

Maybe the old man finally got crushed by the mess.

He isn’t on his lunch break as Mako memorized his activity; can’t miss out on office hours if he knows the times by heart. Plus, he made sure to get there early, just in case.

Mako taps the call bell and waits.

No answer.

He’s about to tap it again when he hears shuffling footsteps.

An old, hunched clerk hobbles out from behind a pile of boxes. His crusted lips smack together as he huffs and groans his way up to the front desk. He doesn’t bother his visitor a glance as he flips through a thick ledger and deadpans, “Name.”

“Mako.”

With another smack of his lips, he says, “Oh, you again…”

Mako ignores him. “You said two weeks, sir.”

“Eh, your request hasn’t gone through,” he says, flicking his wrinkled hand at the backed-up in-voices.

“That’s what you said two weeks ago.”

“Well, so-rry...but the chief’s rather busy with Equalist and triad yahoos.”

“All she needs to do is sign the form,” Mako says in a neutral tone.

The clerk smacks his lips again and sizes him up. He scoffs. “And all you need to do is wait for it...unless you’d rather get one of your buddies to forge her signature.”

There’s no point in trying to argue with the cranky geezer. Mako clamps his teeth to keep his jaws from twitching.

Cool-under-fire.

He keeps his tone neutral as he says, “I’ll check back in another few weeks.” He places his hands on his upper thighs and gives his elder a low bow. “Thank you, sir.”

“Mhm,” the clerk sniffs then crawls to the back of his lonely dusty cave.

Mako leaves the office. It takes every ounce of control to not slam the door on the way out. He takes a second to collect himself; white-knuckled grip still wrapped around the doorknob.

First they “misplace” it, now they ignore it.

The irony isn’t lost on him. But he lets the frustration fade and makes his way back up to the main floor. After a quick peek to make sure Shady isn’t there, he leaves the building. The rain died down to a light mist again and the trolley to get back to the arena is already there taking in passengers. Mako lines up with the rest of them.

As the line shifts, someone to his right seems to forget the concept of “personal space”. Then another one to his left. Behind the trolley, a familiar thundering engine lowers to a hum. Mako sighs internally as the driver's expensive leather shoes clap against the pavement.

“Well if it ain't the captain of the street rats-whoops Fire Ferrets, Fire Ferrets-my mistake, Champ," Shady Shin snivels behind him.

Ping-to Mako’s right-hisses at the waiting riders making them scurry up into the trolley. Mushi moves from his left side to intimidate the conductors to move along. No one on the street bats an eye as the Triple Threat surround the young firebender.

“Ya know,” Shady continues, “the boys didn’t appreciate Bolin’s little stunt the other day.” Mako doesn’t blink as Mushi spits out a glob of chewing tobacco at his feet. Shady drapes his arm over Mako’s shoulder. “Bail’s gettin’ pricier every day and we’ve got a sweet deal bringin’ in some serious paper tonight. But now...we got the tinmen on our asses, Champ.”

“I can pay you back next week.”

“With the team’s winnings? Oh wait, that’s right...you don’t got any. Well, I bet the plant’s payin’ good with the city’s new programs in place huh?”

Here, we fucking go…damnit, Bolin.

Mako shrugs, “Yeah.”

“Thought so, but not everybody’s happy about it. Matter of fact, the supervisor’s a regular at The Jolly Cat and let me tell ya, man’s a real talker once you get a few drinks in ‘em,” Shady muses, “says profits took a hit from havin’ to cough up extra pay to all the fuckin’ ash makers he’s forced to hire.”

Ping snickers as he weaves a coil of flames around his fingers to light the cigarette hanging from his thin lips. He inhales deeply and blows the cloud of smoke in Mako’s face.

Mako tilts his head away then runs a thumbnail over one of his brows. He keeps a lookout for another trolley as he sniffs, “So what do you want Shady?”

The waterbender’s twisted smile lives up to his name. He tsks, “Pah, the boss wanted me to bring you both in for the usual "talk" but...I persuaded him otherwise.”

“By?”

“Like I said, we’ve got a deal goin’ down tonight. No doubt our competitors’ve heard about it so we’re callin’ in all the bodies we can. And that includes you, Mr. Star-Athlete.”

"I've got a match tonight."

"It won’t be ‘til after. Plus, I'm sure you'll bring your A-game so this goes over smoothly."

A close-by trolley sounds its bell. Mako catches a glimpse of it in his peripheral vision. His jaw flexes as he says, "and if I refuse?"

"We all know you're smarter than that," Shady shakes his head. "But if it helps, the supervisor cried he'd get canned if the owner knew he hired any ex-traid. Got a real hard-on for us goodfellas."

The trolley pulls up and stops a few feet ahead. Mako eyes Shady Shin. "Where?"

"Cabbage Corp Docks.” Shady gives him his infamous slimy grin and pushes off his shoulder with a light pat. Mako boards the trolley and watches the three Triple Threats slitter back to Shady’s hotrod. As he climbs into the driver's seat, Shady calls out, “Good luck on your match, Champ."

Bolin’s gone from their dusty attic when game time comes around and having rested a few hours before soothed Mako of his headache.

He partially dresses in his gear; the rest in the locker room. The team’s waterbender, Hasook waits for him in the hall outside of the gym. He’s silent as he trails behind Mako dressed in a similar Pro-Bending uniform; a thick, neck-high protective undershirt and matching tights, a long-sleeved jersey and loose trousers with attached shoulder, elbow, and knee pads, and a pair of light-weight flexible boots all in their team’s white, red, and orange colors. The only differences are the few strips of color marking them as a water, fire, or earthbender.

The faint hum of the cheering crowds gathered to watch barely registers over the sound of his brother’s boisterous laugh coming from the locker room. The two benders enter to see Bolin with the Avatar laughing and leaning against the opened stadium railing.

“Aw man you’re lucky you’re the Avatar,” Bolin says, “you’d prolly be locked up for a while with the mess that fight caused.”

The Avatar shrugs and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, it’s nice to have “connections” in the city.

Connections my ass.

Mako takes a silent deep breath through his nose. Upon his exhale, he becomes “Team Captain” and tunes out the rest of their chatter as he opens his small locker and starts strapping on his padded fingerless gloves. His mind goes blank; empty for a few minutes before the light above the locker doorway signals the team to step out onto the platform.

He grabs his helmet, shuts the locker, and walks towards the platform, ignoring the Avatar as she says, “Hey thanks for your guys attempt at helping me out. I obviously didn’t need it, but I still appreciate the thought.“

“Come on, Bolin,” he says, “we're up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Mako hears Bolin tell her as he walks away from them, “my brother just gets real... focused before the match.”

Focused?

Focused would have gotten me that police report. Focused wouldn’t have gotten me pulled into shit with Shady.

Focused...focused would have saved-bury it away, Champ!

The thick padding of Mako’s helmet muffles Bolin’s quick footsteps as he jogs onto the platform with the rest of their team. From his peripheral vision, his brother stretches to psych himself up. This is just another game for him. Hasook on his other side looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. Mako buries his annoyance. He figured something like this with him was coming sooner or later. He just didn’t think it’d be right as the fucking match starts.

The stadium goes dark. The crowd’s hum gets louder. Spotlights from the ceiling shine down on the playing field. Rising from the platform in the middle, the announcer raises his microphone, points to one end of the field where an extending platform carries the three Fire Ferrets forward, and shouts to introduce them.

Bolin’s obnoxious fangirls are somehow the loudest in the full house. The crowd roars and applauds. For an insignificant-unwanted-moment, Mako wishes it was really for him; that the people actually wanted him.

But he knows...

Pro-Bending...the power plant. These are the only ways a firebender like me gets accepted in this fucking city.

And acceptance is key to his and his brother’s survival. So like a good little firebender, he salutes and waves to the crowd with a small smile.

The two teams line up on either side of the field's centerline and assume Bending stances; hunched forward, knees slightly bent and fists held high. Mako eyes his opponents, The Tigerdillos; older benders with several more games under their belts than them. But his team wants this win more. They need two more wins to enter the tournament. He takes a deep breath, feeling his chi energies flow; the heat builds in his stomach and spreads out to his limbs, pooling at his fingers and toes.

Focus.

The bell clangs and the two teams leap back to the back of their first 'zone', flinging elements at each other. Mako kicks out a burst of flames at his target while Bolin and Hasook deal with theirs.

Cool-under-fire.

He keeps his fists up to protect his head as he dips out of the way of an earth disk and flame blast. The elements whistle past his head. He takes a quick inhale and counters on the exhale with two fiery jabs. A stream of water and another disk fly at him. He keeps his elbows tight as they fly past his head then inhales deeply this time to send out a powerful fireball. The attack barely misses the middle Tigerdillo and the other two come forward to strike at Hasook and Bolin. Both attacks land, pushing them into the second zone.

The buzzer sounds and the zone border lights up.

The Tigerdillos advance on Mako. He dodges their attacks with a few backflips, but an earth disk hits him square in the gut. All the protective padding absorbs the painful force but the impact still sends him sliding back. One foot just over the zone's backline.

Buzzer.

He stifles a snarl as the border lights up again.

The centerline of the field lights up green, giving the clear for all three Tigerdillos to advance into the Fire Ferret's first zone and the Pro-benders continue their attacks.

Bolin launches an earth disk that gets deflected back by the Tigerdillo’s earthbender. It hits Hasook, knocking him into the final zone.

Another buzzer.

The Tigerdillo waterbender kicks a disk of water at Mako and Bolin. The brothers dodge it, but Hasook is knocked off his feet. After another attack, he disappears from the field. Mako and Bolin brace together before splitting apart to dodge water and earth attacks. Bolin’s knocked into zone three. Mako follows shortly after taking a hit of his own.

Fuck. He doesn’t bother looking up at the score lights.

“Round one goes to the Golden Temple Tigerdillos!” The Announcer shouts as the bell clangs repeatedly and the crowd hollers.

The brothers take their places back in their first zone as their waterbender rejoins them.

Mako tilts his head to him and says, “come on Hasook, get your act together.”

The bell clangs and the next round starts. The Tigerdillos line up to send consecutive attacks. All three connect with the Ferrets and immediately push them back into the next zone, but they quickly counter, pushing the opposing team all the way into their last zone, winning them the round.

Bolin and Hasook cheer. Mako ignores them and uses the break to try to catch his breath.

The last round starts. Both teams leap back at the bell. The Tigerdillo waterbender targets Hasook. He dodges two attacks and nearly stumbles into Mako. Another attack pushes him into Bolin instead.

The two tumble onto the floor.

“Get up!” Mako shouts then sends out a few jabs.

The Tigerdillo earthbender kicks a disk at the two tangled Pro-benders, striking them as they're in the process of getting back up and both are sent flying out the back of the field, leaving Mako in a three-on-one showdown.

The Tigerdillo waterbender kicks a shot at Mako, who dodges under it. Additional attacks of all three elements come at him as he runs across the arena, ducking and spinning to avoid each one until he’s backed up against the edge of the field. Another step backward and he’ll be in The Drink with the rest of his team and another season cut short.

He pants. His ears throb from his quickened pulse. Sweat drips down his face.

‘Mako…’, he hears his mother whimper.

No... not now!

He tries to calm his breathing as the Tigerdillos advance. They’re relentless.

But Mako’s calm, bobbing and weaving and patient. He waits for his chance to strike. Waits for the Tigerdillos to wear themselves down.

Always waiting for the opportunity to come out on top.

There!

He twists out of the way of an attack and throws his own. The fireball passes right through the Tigerdillo waterbender's prepared attack, turning it to steam, slamming into his chest, and tumbles straight over the back edge of the field.

The crowd’s roar vibrates through Mako’s veins. With it, he goes on the offensive. A heavy fireball jab. Two fiery flying kicks. And a deeper inhale to let out a massive flare generated with both arms extended. Although the remaining Tigerdillos block some of his attacks, their Firebender takes a hit, flies backward into the railing, and bounces out the back and into the water.

‘Mako-’

A red, buring haze falls over the world as Mako and the last standing Tigerdillo toss attacks with abandon. Both benders want this victory.

Mako needs it.

Earth and fire collide. Disks explode. Mako kicks a powerful flaming slash into the dust cloud. It connects with the Tigerdillo and pushes him back into his zone three.

Mako leaps into the dust cloud with a flaming fist. He strikes the Tigerdillo’s earth desk. A wave of flames shatters his pathetic shield; the impact sends him crashing over the edge of the field.

The bell clangs.

The game ends.

The arena trembles with the crowds’ thunderous cheers.

And the Fire Ferrets' firebender stands alone in utter silence.

‘Promise me…’

He lets out a short sigh of relief, becoming “Team Captain” again, and pulls off his helmet to gaze out at the cheering crowd before stepping back to the extending platform to return to the locker room.

Hasook joins him on the platform as it moves. “Well played, Captain. But if you wanted to show off, you could have just told us.”

“You serious right now?” Mako side-eyes him then keeps his focus ahead. “Yeah, I carried your ass since you did more harm than good out there and almost cost us the match,” Mako sneers as they reach the locker room.

Hasook rips off his helmet and scoffs, “We fucking won didn't we?”

“Barely.”

“Fuck off!” Hasook throws his helmet to the floor with a growl and stomps out of the locker room.

“Useless.”

“You guys were incredible out there,” the Avatar says, souring his mood. “Especially you, Mr. Hat Trick.”

He walks past her without a glance. “Oh... you're still here? Thought you’d have Avatar stuff to work on.”

“Oh, you're still a jerk?” She mocks, “don’t you have people skills to work on Team Captain?”

“Ooh and the Avatar showcases her firebending with a sick burn, ha ha,” Bolin laughs.

Mako fights with the straps of his gloves as the Avatar continues. “Anyway, I've been immersed in Bending my entire life but I never learned how to move like that. It's like there's a whole new style here. Think you could show me a few tricks?”

“Ab-so-lutely,” his brother sings.

Having stripped off his gloves and stored them and the helmet back in the locker, Mako heads out to leave the room and says, “You kids have fun with that.”

The Avatar scoffs, “Pft kids? Aren’t you like, what, seventeen?”

“Eighteen,” Bolin corrects, then asks, “Mako, you’re not gonna watch me-your little brother-teach the Avatar...ya know, “master of all four elements”, some of my earthbending tricks? Seriously bro?”

Mako pauses. His back is to them. His brother can’t see his smirk fade into a restrained frown. “Nah,” he shrugs, “gonna see a guy about some job.” He holds up a hand in a half-wave as he steps out of the room. “Nice to meet you... Avatar Korra.”

After a quick shower and change of clothes, Mako barely takes two steps out of the arena’s peninsula when he sees Shady Shin already waiting for him in his hotrod.

“Killer game, Champ,” Shady whistles. He flicks away his cigarette butt as Mako gets in the passenger seat.

“I thought we were meeting there,” Mako says. He leans an arm on the door and keeps his head low.

“And miss my boys’ game, not a chance,” he smirks.

The tires squeal as he rips downs the street. The golden glow from the Pro-Bending arena is replaced by Downtown's bright lights. It’s close to midnight, but Republic City never sleeps. Night only brings out the downtrodden side everyone pretends doesn’t exist. Traffic is chaotic, not that it matters much with Shady’s driving. He weaves between cars, inching them closer to their destination.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Shady drawls from the corner of his mouth, “thought you’d be peppier after your big win, just one more right?”

“Mhm,” Mako says indifferently. He adjusts his long legs, fixing a fold in one of his knee-high spats, and says nothing else.

“Always so serious, kid. Eh, maybe it's good. Keep yourself level-headed huh?”

Shady pulls in behind the docks of Cabbage Corp; the city’s first automobile manufacturer; gone downhill since Future Industries created a monopoly off all the city’s technology. Two moving trucks come from another direction and park between some stacked high shipping containers. Ping and Mushi-two of the other Triple Threat officers-hop out. Some of Shady’s low ranking henchmen jump out from the back of the trucks.

Shady parks a few feet away. Mako follows him out of the car. He shoves his hands in his pockets and scoffs, “You called half the crew, the fuck you need me for?”

“The extra firepower’s nice, but really... we just need your “Jazz Hands”, kid, in case these guys feel like wisin’ up.”

Typical.

“Zolt’s too caught up ruling his empire, he can’t do it himself?”

“What can I say, he’s a busy man.”

The two join the rest of the gang huddled around the trucks. Shady Shin checks in with Mushi then tells the rest of those gathered to be on guard of their dealers. Mako’s greeted with enthusiastic praise for the Fire Ferrets’ win. Several non-benders gush about the play-by-play they heard on the radio.

“Ey, hold on. How come your little bro’s gettin’ more tail than you?" One of them snickers.

“He ain’t getting shit,” Mako sniffs, crossing his arms and leaning against the hood of one of the trucks.

“True, he’s too much of a chump,” Mushi laughs wickedly. Some of the guys chuckle.

“Alright, but what’s the deal with you, Mr. Big Shot?” Another Triple Threat eyes him with a gap-toothed grin. “You had that prissy eye-candy for a while there-uhh-” He snaps his fingers trying to remember.

Shady says, “Mr. Sato’s girl. You lose your game with’er, Champ?”

“No,” Mako says as he shifts his weight to his other leg, “it just didn’t work out.” A universal echo of disappointment ripples through the gathered men.

“Eh, it’s cuz he’s a chump...like his brother,” Ping croaked as the groans and boos died down.

“Oh yeah?” Mako softly challenges.

“Yeah,” Ping repeats himself then lights a cigarette. “Man...skills like yours, I’d have dames left and right; one for every day of the week.” He whips around, starts dry humping the truck’s headlight and in a high pitched scratchy voice moans, “Ooh, Ping! Ahh...you’re soo much better than that little prick Mako...mmm, ahh!”

The other Triple Threat screech and holler at Mako’s expense.

He takes a flask from an older earthbender and says, “A partner helps, but nothing’s stopping you from practicing by yourself. Oh, shit wait-you meant firebending? Nevermind mind then, can’t help you there. Sorry.”

That earns him a few chuckles from some of the older Triple Threat members. Ping flicks his still-lit cigarette away. Mako uncaringly takes a swig from the flask and passes it to his right. The liquor pricks down his throat. Numb. Just like he wants to be for the situation Bolin unknowingly dragged him into.

Shady Shin whistles everyone to attention as a few Cabbage Corp trucks pull up to them. Shady and the other officers form a half-circle in front of them. Mako stays towards the back with the rest of the Triple Threats. He takes another swig of the flask when it makes its way around again. It drowns his long ignored and buried loneliness.

A couple of guys dressed in the business’s jumpsuits get out of their trucks. The lead dealer walks up to Shady. Mako doesn’t hear what they're saying nor does he really care. The dealer signals for one of his people to unload the truck. They push over a few crates of boxed car parts. Shady stops one and has them open it. Mushi’s hulking figure steps up to one. His hand disappears into the box.

Then it clicks in Mako’s head. There’s a reason Shady’s putting so much trust in the giant earthbender. Mushi pulls his massive hand out of the box. A small amount of pale green powder sits underneath his disgusting long pinky nail that he dumps onto the tip of his equally disgusting tongue.

Mushi pulls his lips back over his gums like a beast. “It’s good boss.”

Duffle bags packed with stacks of yuans exchange hands. The Triple Threat peons load the crates into their trucks. With the deal done, the Cabbage Corps guys scatter. Mako’s left disappointed, leaning against the hotrod as the Triple Threat’s recruiter dismisses the rest of his gang.

Shady returns to the car. “Looks like we didn’t need you at all, my bad, Champ.”

“Figures…”

Shady pulls out a roll of yuans from his pocket and tosses it to him. “Think of it as an investment into your future.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve got it covered,” Mako says, tosses it back, and walks away.

“You mean the plant,” Shady calls out. “You’re no more a machine to them than the piles of scrap metal they use your bending to power Mako...you know the Boss’ll take you back. No questions asked.” The young firebender stops in his tracks. Shady presses. “It’s a long walk to the arena…”

Mako stands far enough away that Shady can’t hear his defeated sigh. He calls out over his shoulder, “I can manage.”

Pale rising scarlet paints the sky by the time he gets back to the arena. Bolin’s snoring reaches the gym floor as he walks in. His footsteps on the creaky stairs don’t wake his heavy sleeper brother. Pabu chirps as Mako reaches the top step into their apartment. The little fire ferret pokes his head out from his owner’s loft. Mako holds his finger up to his lips to urge the critter to go back to sleep.

He strips down to his old, torn white tank top and faded, striped boxers then crawls up the ladder to his separate loft. He flops down on his thin, lumpy mattress. Pride and shame battle over his decision to toss back Shady’s cash.

It could've been enough to get them out of their living situation. But it was dirty money. He spent the last three years trying to do right by his brother. Tonight he came close to crossing his line.

His eyelids grow heavy and his head lightweight as the last of his energy slips from his body.

There isn’t enough to push her voice away again.

‘Mako...promise me, you’ll keep him safe.’

He swallows the sand in his throat and blinks away the stinging at the corner of his tired eyes as his lids finally fall.

#fanfic #lok #lok fanfic #legend of korra #legend of korra fanfic #mako #lok mako #legend of korra mako #mako fanfic #mako headcanon #ao3 #ffn.net #Wattpad

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years

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Quick Thoughts on The Royal Retcon Book 1 Chapter 11

• You've gotta admit, guys. This series spends more time retconning various aspects of their original story than they do on the actual premise.

• The food fight was wild and chaotic, the background history is always welcome, seeing Jess and Blake was nice and the moonlit hot springs scene was a nice change from everything...but my head is spinning from the constant shifts, okay?

• To avoid seeing my QTs in your dash, blacklist the following tags: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

Maxwell: @thethots-plicken and @itsbrindleybinch

Drake: The HIMEME YouTube channel

• Title: The Prodigal Father

Alternative: Most Parents in TRR Shouldn't Have Even Been Parents To Begin With

• The last chapter ended with a surprise twist: the return of Barthelemy Beaumont, father of Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont. We had a lot of questions. Did Bertrand know he wasn't dead? Did Maxwell not know he wasn't dead? What the hell was he doing all these years and why had he left his sons in such a horrible position?

• Turns out the writers may have taken a leaf out from a Hindi serial or something coz - drumrolls - he was in a coma!

• Why do we never hear much about this so-called illness or even have a name put to it. What mysterious illness caused Barthelemy to deteriorate so much that he was trying out miracle cures from quacks and that he ended up in a coma for years? Why were his next of kin not informed when he came out of it or while he was rehabilitating? Why the heck wasn't Maxwell telling his wife this, or Bertrand his girlfriend? There is so much about this plot that doesn't even make sense.

• How does Barthelemy remember Drake from the court days but not Savannah ("Liam and Drake, you're so grown up now! Miss Savannah, you're lovelier than your reputation..."). Somehow he knows what's been said about Savannah and about Hana's accomplishments - wait if he'd been mostly getting his body back in order, how would he know this stuff? Who is telling him this? (Godfrey?? Is that why he's so faux-patriotic around us now??? Is that his real reason for visiting Cordonia only once a year or something?)

•

In Liam and Drake's cases, Barthelemy says the same thing about how Maxwell outdid himself by bringing the MC to the House, and that she has brought prestige to the Beaumonts. It's in Hana's and Maxwell's cases that the dialogue is different. In Maxwell's it's obviously as his daughter-in-law that he greets you, and in Hana's he speaks of now having two "daughters" in his house.

• Barthelemy then gets to the more serious part of his departure - the fact that Bertrand had to shoulder the responsibilities of being Duke earlier because of Barthelemy's condition, and that now Bertrand can relax while his father takes care of things at the estate. Is that care for his son talking...or his desire for control? I'm leaning towards the second.

• I'm pretty sure Bertrand is leaning towards the second because he's looking pretty resistant about this sudden change. His bride-to-be, Savannah, in the meantime, is super happy to meet her father-in-law and son's namesake. Hah. That'll change.

• Maxwell is nervous. Because he wants his father to see how different he is now, and how responsible he has become, but doesn't know what his old man will think. Don't worry, Esther says, plan this smartly and you'll get a new Pictagram follower!

• In any case, Maxwell's friends promise to help him get through this and support him, except for Drake who thinks he can impose limits (like "no singing"), because, yknow. The universe has to revolve around his comfort zone. Must be a Walker trait.

• More Jess and Blake nuggets! You get an option to ask them how they met, and they tell you about the cruise they first worked in (and presumably where Jess' sister met Liam's brother and (optionally) married him) and how they used to butt heads often. Nice RoE nugget, too bad the writers have so far barely even remembered Liam's brother who is from that series!

•

Yeah yeah I know that Kiara is probably back in Castelserraillian like the other courtly ladies (or chilling in a hotel somewhere in Texas), but if they're all supposed to be there for the wedding Savannah might as well have included her. Not only is Savannah a stinky fiancée and a stinky person in general (not a surprise considering her family), she is also a stinky friend.

• I repeat: my MC Esther has done practically nothing for Savannah. Nor has Hana. Why are we such a huge part of her ceremony again when she already had a long-time friend from court who had actually helped her and actually cared?? Only because we're the ones on an extended holiday in her ranch? Then say that - why do you need to make such a long speech about friendship while snubbing the one woman who made a damned effort to help you? (oh...right. I keep forgetting. Kiara is only remembered when people want to use her 😒).

• At the start of the rehearsals, Savannah tells Jess about the horse-riding-to-the-altar tradition, complete with a saddle that's been a family heirloom. Bianca and Leona, apologetically, inform Savannah that they had to sell it. Savannah tries to mask her disappointment, but fails. Barthelemy in the meantime, jumps in, in what he assumes would be "saving the day" (it's not, Bartie Sr. It really isn't)

Bartie...dude...you just got here. You can't already know what'll make your daughter-in-law happy when you've only spoken to her for all of five seconds. Plant your ass at the back of the congregation where it belongs!

• The girl really really wanted that saddle, okay Bartie Sr? Allow her to grieve that lost dream ffs.

• This scene I guess is helpful because while it still places Bartie Sr rather awkwardly in the "father trying to make amends and be caring" category, it gives you an inkling of why that persona doesn't sit so well on him. Bartie Sr may assume that this is something a caring parent does, except that what he's really doing is taking over, making all the attention revolve around him, believing he knows best and not listening to anyone. Even when he's being "nice".

• That saddle is going to come back some way or other, and it's probably going to be a diamond option, for which the free option is Savannah walking down the aisle with Bartie Sr. Eh. She threw a tantrum at my reception so her boyfriend could marry her, I'm not about to get her her dilapidated saddle. She can make do with her crusty father-in-law.

(The other possibility is that [at the end of the chapter] Bertrand left the house to get it or something idk, and it might be free after all. Is it too late to ask for the entire WEDDING to be a diamond option?)

• So this exchange leads us all to the Beaumont brothers remembering their childhood. Maxwell views it all through rose-coloured spectacles, Bertrand has very different memories of that time. Which is such a change from the previous series! I mean, wasn't Bertrand the one who kept going "my father's legacy, my father's legacy", while Maxwell was the one who didn't have very good memories of that time?

I can always imagine that Bertrand's views on his father must have changed when he started taking on the responsibilities of a father himself (thus making him view his childhood as 'not normal'). And Maxwell may well have come to appreciate Bartie Sr once he began taking House responsibilities. But guess who is breaking their heads to make these "connections". Us. Not the writers. Not the team in charge of this story.

• There are two PoVs to this scene: Maxwell's and Bertrand's. Maxwell's is the one that is lighter, funnier, showing us a wilder side of his brother, Bertrand is given the meatier one, with intrigue and a hint of plot.

- We're taken back to when Bertrand's motorbike was just purchased, and the boys choose to take it for a test ride. The Bertrand shown here is kinda similar to the one in the 6-years-ago flashback in Book 1, just...younger and cuter. Apparently in the time that Bertrand was living alone in a house with Maxwell, he aged like an avocado.

- What's with using this team and using the Waverley kids' faces for the Beaumont brothers??

- Young Bertrand and Maxwell don't mind living on the wild side - taking the Cavilieri Novanta 9S on a test drive through different areas in the estate, planning how they'll debut this beauty at the Beaumont Bash and generally making a racket. Bartie Sr scolds them from the window of his office, then asks them to come up and see him there. Bertrand opts to protect little Maxwell from his father's ire by going there alone, and then telling his brother that their father is "very proud" of them. Maxwell doesn't question this (the writers have forgotten that Young Maxwell was perceptive even as a little boy, so I'm not quite buying that he simply accepted what Bertrand said at face value), and jumps instead into planning a logo for their biker jackets (he suggests a kraken and a tiger). They can also opt to have a special kraken-related handshake.

- Bertrand, however, fills in the blanks, speaking to us about what he witnessed at the office, and what actually transpired.

This conversation is the point of the whole scene, and is connected to the Young! Drake scene in the sense that Bartie Sr and Godfrey are from the Great Houses that Constantine mentions are opposing the alliance with Auvernal. While they don't tell us what has disappointed these two so much, we do get the idea that they are displeased esp with the Queen because she has somehow convinced Constantine to not agree with what the two are planning so quickly. It's very possible that their frustration with Eleanor might have gotten them involved in some way with her death, but it's also possible that there are other players involved.

- Bertrand does not focus much on this bit because Bertrand is young and his priorities are different. The interesting thing about using these childhood flashbacks for the characters is that we will always get an incomplete picture, if only because the kids' priorities are different, and for them these side discussions will always count as "adult stuff". Big, scary, too complicated to understand.

- We do get a mention of Maxwell's weight (finally!). The writers frame it as Maxwell losing his weight after his mother's death and getting his regular exercise with his brother. This we get to know by Bartie Sr's fat-shaming comment about not wanted to see Maxwell get back to his "wide suits" (Seriously. Fuck this guy).

• Hypocrite alert! Godfrey who treats his perfectionist daughter as a failure just for existing and being a girl, now thinks he can yap about "being too hard" on one's children. Go fuck yourself Godfrey Not Gao (this nickname was brought to you by @callmetippytumbles).

• The bit that's most important to Bertrand is that he tries to pass an overdue bill to his dad, and his father ignores it to concentrate on "bigger" things. Which kinda leads you to believe that the problem existed waaaaay before Bartie Sr started believing in miracle cures for his mysterious illness. In fact I'm pretty sure both those things might be fabricated.

• So that's what Bertrand is trying to tell us. That Bartie Sr expected his sons to understand responsibility when he was not exactly ready to live up to that example himself. It still doesn't make sense though, considering every time Bertrand spoke about Bartie Sr it was as if he had to uphold the same legacy, and everytime Maxwell spoke about him it was to highlight what a disappointment he was to his father...and funny enough they've now switched roles.

• Anyway, Maxwell is now more inclined to believe Bartie Sr has turned a new leaf, while Bertrand is wary. He is not wrong about the controlling aspect though, even when his dad is trying to be nice he's being a controlling ass.

• Hana comes in and comforts Bertrand, in a scene I found pretty touching. She knows plenty about controlling, overbearing parents who expect plenty from her but fail to measure up to the little that she asks of them. I love how she makes the point that, having support or company of any form, works to lessen the pain of that kind of upbringing...and she knows this because she never had it.

• The bonding that takes place between Hana and Bertrand is lovely, although it's marred by the fact that were we going by the original idea of the Beaumont brothers' lives, Maxwell would be the one she'd be comforting.

• Two bits that stood out to me were where Bertrand offered to make up for all those years of disappointment and pain that Hana suffered, by being a sort of stand-in older brother now - and Hana's response to the whole idea of mending bridges:

I love the fact that she says this even as she still maintains her complicated relationship with her mother. It's small but a lot more than she was allowed to say earlier. In Book 3, a lot of what they had Hana say to Lorelai was more for Lorelai's benefit than her own (constantly educating her and telling the family that the most important thing was that they be happy together). Her responses were centered around Lorelai's comfort, not Hana's conflict. At least here, she gets to state (while safely away from her parents) how complicated her relationship with her parents is. I just hope this is not the last time we hear about it.

• It's now time for the rehearsal dinner! Everyone's seated at a pop-up restaurant Blake and Jess have made for the wedding, and includes the courses for the special day. It's bruschetta, a quiche and the wedding cake for dessert.

•

Auntie Bitch I hope you realize that the biggest freeloaders in this house are your own nephew and niece! Drake doesn't have a job until his wedding is over (unless one counts moaning and griping while enjoying shit that his BFF has paid for, his job (oh...wait...maybe that's why "Constantly Complaining Freeloader" was listed as a job description in his Italian Restaurant scene lmao)). The other biggest freeloader is your niece, who didn't mind accepting money from Maxwell and then turned around and acted towards Bertrand like she didn't need his damn money that she was already using.

• Also for the amount of complaining Leona has been doing for her own niece's wedding she might as well have not hosted them at all. You took the responsibility, you made all the guests you were hosting do work for you and spent all your time mocking them for not having the kind of specific skillsets you grew up with. If you wanted to stay alone with your sister in this crusty dilapidated ranch where you probably don't even pay people fairly, you could have told Savannah to go somewhere else. Like Applewood. Or Ramsford idk. You couldn't even save the saddle your niece would have wanted for the wedding, and if that's not a pointer to what a failure you are, Leona, IDK what is. So maybe stop acting like you're better than the nobles and keep quiet.

• Bianca states that she has never depended on the Crown yet somehow left behind both her children whose well-being was largely being maintained from the Crown coffers???

• But also given the response to Liam I have a feeling we might have a flashback from her next chapter. While she doesn't appear as angry as her sister, there is definitely an underlying bitterness there that I think the narrative might explore before we leave Texas. Idk.

• Bartie Sr focuses his attention on us again, insisting that he is like a father figure to us. You can either firmly refuse (my favourite option), express pride in House Beaumont (which pleases Bartie Sr no end) or be polite (in which case Liam lets out a cryptic "how generous of you" aimed at Bartie Sr it one point, showing us that he's not very impressed. Hmm. Hmm.)

• Bartie Sr is being controlling again, complaining that the quiche is not an elegant main course and insisting to Savannah that she try whatever he is demanding for the wedding. He keeps saying "trust me Savannah, you'll love it!" as if he knows her tastes better than she herself does.

• Chuck tries to offer cake, and Bartie Sr in his eagerness to refuse accidentally tosses it over on Leona's clothes.

• That's kiiind of a breaking point with Leona, and to sum it all up, THIS happens:

Jess has seen and participated in utter chaos, okay. So for her to appear all flummoxed and say "it was...a lot", it really, really has to be a lot.

• My favourite parts have to be Hana and Liam thoroughly enjoying the food fight and finding it cathartic, because they're the two who most need to channel their repressed energies into that kind of catharsis. Drake and Maxwell don't feel this need as much as they do because they already have ways and opportunities to channel it.

• The fight allows both the nobles and the Walkers to meet on common ground - common enough ground that Bertrand can (if we choose) finally tell his father that he and Savannah can manage their own wedding, thank you very much.

• Funny how Bertrand is expected to stand up to his father and ensure that what Savannah wants is not ignored, yet Savannah herself never makes even a quarter of the effort that he does, in making Bertrand comfortable in her home. Why does Bertrand have to do all the work in this relationship? Why do I only see Savannah complaining when Bertrand is not doing things exactly as she wants them to be done, yet not even lifting a finger when he's the one who needs the help and reassurance? Perhaps the best option is if he becomes runaway groom.

• We get to give one (1) solitary fuck about the country we're leading when we're back in the bedroom after this whole skirmish has gone down.

• LI diamond scene! At a moonlit hot spring nearby. The scenes mostly include the mandatory admiration for the lingerie, awe at the scenery and once the sex is done, an exploration into family and children from the would-be parents.

Liam: Calls the MC a "twilight goddess fit for worship" as soon as he sees her with her lacy lingerie in the moonlight. If you've done those scenes, there's a mention of the Forgotten Falls and the Blue Grotto and how Liam has a penchant for whisking the MC away to secluded watery places. (Liam also mentions finding a matching pearl to the first one they got at the Blue Grotto, even though the writers have practically forgotten what has happened to that first one 🙄).

The MC can choose to either go fast or slow in the love scene, and afterwards, Liam wonders aloud whether all families are complicated. The MC can counter this, by telling Liam they can ensure their child never gets to the point that Bertrand or Hana have by ensuring the child has their space to be open about how they feel.

Caption: Spring Fling

Hana: The two women mostly admire each other in silence (Hana tells the MC she would simply like to look at her as the MC gives a twirl) and the MC suggests expanding the "sample size" of Hana's lingerie because Hana in the moonlight is a vision. Hana offers to massage the MC's shoulders, and speaks about wanting to get away from the chaos and check in on her. Hana wants to take as much of their alone time as possible to check if the MC is doing okay, which IMO is her way of maintaining a relationship - by giving her partner space to talk about how they feel, something she rarely had the opportunity to do. She also admits to how exhilarating the food fight was. Hana is playful and teasing in her love scene, and brings the MC to the point where she will beg for more.

Once they are done, the two speak about how being in this place is like being in a fairytale, and there's a particularly lovely line nestled in this bit:

I wished for storybooks with scenes just like this as a kid. Not ones where the princess got rescued by the prince or the knight...but where she found love and happiness on her own...and the freedom to embrace them.

It's...it's so beautiful 😭

Caption: Woodland Nymphs

Maxwell: Now obviously Maxwell has the most personal experience among the four this time, since it's his father that returned home, and it's his family that is now dealing with some tough, complicated questions. Some of that shows in this scene. It begins with Maxwell seeing the MC in her lingerie and confession he almost forgot she had them...which is a good thing otherwise he would never be able to concentrate on anything else. He speaks to her about all the things he loves about her and about their relationship - especially how much they make each other laugh. Underwater, the two let go of their restraint and make love with abandon.

The conversation that follows is the most important, exploring Maxwell's feelings about his father's return. He doesn't have a lot of memories of his father - most of it was from when he was very young, or from Bertrand's eyes. Maxwell is very happy that Bartie Sr has returned, and wants him to see how happy he is with the MC. He speaks of wanting to tell him about the social season, about marrying the MC, about his bestseller book. There is a cute bit where the MC asks whether he would tell Bartie Sr about the hippo tattoo and Maxwell seems almost terrified by that option. But overall, there is nervousness in his scene, and also hope. He definitely is invested in making his old man proud. Proving himself has always been a theme with Maxwell, and that need possibly will increase with the arrival of his father.

Caption: Blue Lagoon

Drake: Calls the MC in her lingerie in the moonlight, "art that should be in a museum". The two admire each other in their new lingerie, and then admire the scenery. Drake has brought the MC to the hot spring mostly because it was rumoured to be called "Makeout Point", and he's always been curious to see what the big deal was. The MC can point out the beauty and romantic potential of the area, mentioning that she can imagine a sixteen year old swooning if her high school sweetheart brought her there, "or a duchess, if her marshmallow brought her here". During the love scene, Drake likens her to a siren, the sex can either be rough or gentle and the MC can either take control or allow him to.

Towards the end, the two talk wonder how their child might be, who they would resemble. There's a bit of banter back and forth about how the world is not ready for their collective sass 😄 I think because Drake is the most comfortable with his own family now, that his conversations with the MC about family focus largely on his memories of good times, and on what their child will be like.

Caption: Spring Fever

• Why the hell are you guys ruining all that nice lingerie in water!!!

• After a few days, and presumably on the day of the wedding, Savannah comes to us, shocked and worried, telling us that Bertrand is gone. This could be either a fakeout leading to him trying to get something nice and romantic done for her, or his insecurities cropping up IDK.

• General Thoughts:

- As much as I'd LOVE for the twist to be that Bertrand has realized this marriage will never work and has called it all off, I know for a fact they won't let that happen. Either his insecurities have come to a head with Bartholemy's return and he needs time to clear his head, or he's gone all heroic and tried to get Savannah's saddle for her, which we then have to pay diamonds to retrieve.

- Some way or the other that saddle is going to feature.

- They'll have Bertrand do something heroic I guess so that Leona will FINALLY stop being a whiny asshole. And Savannah as usual? Will not even lift her little finger.

- I'm more worried about what Bartie Sr will be upto once he's back at Ramsford estate! Esp given that his controlling has already begun at an event as innocuous as a wedding. ALSO given that this man will be back in Cordonia!!

- We're obviously going to get more hints about our pregnancy in the coming chapter, that I'm sure we'll ignore coz we don't want to jump into conclusions like the last time.

- Hana's bonding scene with Bertrand reminds me a little of a scene in Book 2, where she speaks of how Bertrand reminds her a little of her father...in, like, a good way.

- If it turns out that Godfrey and Barthelemy were indeed involved in Eleanor's death, it will be the ultimate irony. It would mean that the present occupants of the duchies that were once undermining the Crown...are now their stanchest allies. Lucretia and Olivia's parents vs Olivia, Godfrey vs Madeleine, and Bartie Sr vs Bertrand and Maxwell. It would be a nice contrast.

- Istg if they try and make HAKIM AND JOELLE suspicious too I will literally throw hands 😡

- Jesus, the amount of retconning going on in this book. That scene would have lost nothing by making Bertrand the guy who was desperate to prove himself to his father and Maxwell the one who had mixed feelings. Having both of them overhear that conversation rather than one would have been fine too. But this is one in a looooooong list of things that the team is shifting around, believing no one will notice. Maybe I should just call this series The Royal Retcon from now on because there is more of that happening than actual babymaking!!

- I'm pretty intrigued by Liam's lukewarm reaction to Bartie Sr personally. What does he know. Why doesn't Liam tell me and why doesn't the MC ask!!

- Bartie Sr spends surprisingly little time with his own namesake, but perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised since Junior's own parents are hardly seen with him either.

- Next chapter is the wedding (if we can find the groom, that is), Savannah getting her dream entry (possibly if we pay the diamonds) and hints that we may be pregnant that will culminate in the big reveal at the end. Yay?

- I know I haven't gotten out a QT for Book 1 in two weeks but those past two weeks have been filled with lots of IRL stuff. Hopefully I'll get back to that soon.

- Until next week, folks!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #the royal heir #trh qts #king liam #hana lee #drake walker #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #savannah walker

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cuthian · 4 years

Text

Starting Over Chapter Eight

Alright, this is it!

The next one... the next one is the one everyone's been waiting for, babies. Working on that now, and hopefully will have that done ASAP.

Thanks for sticking with me, lovelies.

Love, Annaelle (& Juulna, who is indispensable and without whom I could never do this).

Chapter Eight

AMERICAN SUPPORT FOR GAY RIGHTS MAY LEAVE AFRICANS VULNERABLE!

By Norimitsu Onishi

LAGOS, Nigeria — Suspicious neighbors and landlords pry into their private lives. Blackmailers hunt for victims on the social media sites they use to meet others of the same sex. Police officers routinely stop them to search for incriminating images and chats on their cellphones.

Since an anti-gay law went into effect last year, many gay Nigerians say they have been subjected to new levels of harassment, even violence. They blame the law, the authorities, and broad social intolerance for their troubles. But they also blame an unwavering supporter whose commitment to their cause has been unquestioned and conspicuous across Africa: the United States government.

“The U.S. support is making matters worse,” said Mike, 24, a university student studying biology in Minna, a town in central Nigeria, who asked that his full name not be used for his safety. “There’s more resistance now. It’s triggered people’s defense mechanisms.”

[…]Four years ago, the American government embarked on an ambitious campaign to expand civil rights for gay people overseas by marshalling its diplomats, directing its foreign aid, and deploying President Obama to speak before hostile audiences[...]Since 2012, the American government has put more than 700 million dollars into supporting gay rights groups and causes globally. More than half of that money has focused on sub-Saharan Africa — just one indication of this continent’s importance to the new policy.

America’s money and public diplomacy have opened conversations and opportunities in societies where the subject was taboo just a few years ago. But they have also made gay men and lesbians more visible — and more vulnerable.[…]other African nations weighing in on the situation for LGBT+ communities in Nigeria. King T’Chaka of Wakanda, a traditionally more reclusive nation, has expressed his intention to set up an outreach center for the at-risk population of Nigeria.

“Love has been considered simply love for centuries in Wakanda,” King T’Chaka said in a press conference, where he announced that his son, Prince T’Challa, would oversee the initial preparations for the center. “If we can help others achieve such calm and such peace in their lives, it is our duty to ensure it will be so. While we appreciate the support of the American government, the time has come for African nations to support each other”—Continued on Page 49

—Norimitsu Onishi, ‘American support for gay rights may leave Africans vulnerable’, The New York Times, 2 December 2015

——————————

Personal floor Of Steve Rogers, Becca Barnes and Thor, Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, U.S.A.

December 3rd, 2015 – 8:04 AM

Pepper

Pepper barely blinked when Steve opened the door with his hair askew, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt that had clearly seen better days, with thick bags under his eyes.

“You look like shit,” she told him bluntly, because while she liked him well enough, she was a little grumpy about the fact he’d insisted she come down to his floor so early in the morning. She’d spent far too long throwing up this morning to pretend to be civil, and she was certain Steve would understand.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, opening the door wide so she could come in. “I know.”

She pushed past him and walked into the apartment, stopping only for a moment to raise an eyebrow at the state of it. She’d never known Steve to be exceptionally tidy, but he was certainly not a messy person either—it was, therefore, a big surprise to see the otherwise neat room looking quite chaotic.

There were pillows and blankets strewn across the couches and floor, along with what looked like enough empty snack wrappers to feed a small army—or one supersoldier, she supposed.

“Had some fun?” she asked bemusedly, turning to look at said supersoldier with a raised eyebrow.

Steve sighed and shook his head. “Becca came home last night,” he began, pushing past Pepper to pick up some of the blankets. “She was… well, upset, to say the least.”

Pepper frowned and turned towards the bedrooms, where she assumed Becca was. “What happened?” she demanded, glancing towards Steve concernedly. “Is Thor with her?” Thor and Becca weren’t meant to return to Earth for a few weeks yet, and to hear that Becca had returned, apparently horribly upset, was more than just a little concerning.

“No,” Steve shook his head. “I mean, I think he came with her to bring her back and to make sure she was alright, but she told me she didn’t want him to stay, so he left.”

Pepper spun around. “Why would she—”

Steve raised a hand and shook his head before she could complete the question. “Look, I’ve already told you more than I intended to. Becca—Becca should tell you the rest herself. I—” He sighed. “I don’t think I’m qualified to help her in this.”

Pepper pouted, but conceded the point. If it was indeed something personal, then Becca did deserve the chance to tell her herself.

“Is she in her room?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Steve nodded wordlessly, and Pepper sighed before moving towards the bedrooms. Becca’s room was shrouded in darkness still, but she could make out Becca’s still form on the bed, hardly more than a lump of blankets.

“Is she asleep?” she whispered to Steve, who had followed her into the hallway and was leaning back against the wall behind her, looking for all the world like he was about to fall asleep where he stood.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Maybe? She was earlier, but she basically cried herself to sleep, so I don’t—I don’t know if she’s still asleep.”

He rubbed a hand through his hair, and Pepper was abruptly struck by how extremely tired he looked.

“Go to bed, Steve,” she told him sternly. “I’ll talk to her. We’ll be fine.”

The fact that he didn’t argue with her, only nodded tiredly before sulking off down the hallway to his own room, only reassured her that he was actually exhausted. She turned towards Becca’s room again, biting her lower lip as she tried to figure out what would’ve had the other woman so upset she’d spent the entire night crying in Steve’s arms rather than her boyfriend’s.

She would’ve assumed it a break-up, if not for the fact that she knew Becca and Thor’s relationship was about as rock solid as any relationship could be. Not only that, but if their relationship had been rockier than they’d shared with anyone else, Pepper was reasonably sure Thor would never have put so much effort into organizing the trip to Asgard.

No, the problem likely lay solely at Thor’s father’s feet.

From what she’d heard, the man had opposed the relationship for almost as long as Becca and Thor had been together, and he didn’t shy away from playing dirty to get what he wanted. She just… she couldn’t imagine what Odin could’ve said or done to make Becca decide to come home rather than stay with Thor—what he could’ve said or done to make Becca insist that Thor leave her alone.

She uncrossed her arms from over her chest and walked into Becca’s room, crawling onto the large bed with the younger woman and wriggling lightly until her head rested on the pillow next to Becca’s.

She remained quiet for a bit longer, listening to Becca’s breathing for a few minutes before she said, “I know you’re awake, Gummy Bear,” she said quietly, smiling a little when Becca huffed in annoyance before she rolled over to face Pepper.

“Hi,” Becca croaked. “Steve call you?”

Pepper nodded. “He’s worried. What’s going on, sweetheart?” She reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Becca’s ear, fingers lingering on the younger woman’s cheek before she dropped her hand to the bed. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Becca’s eyes were suspiciously shiny, and her lower lip trembled. “I don’t—I don’t know how to say it.”

“Are you and Thor—” Pepper suggested carefully, but Becca interrupted her before she even finished speaking.

“No!”

Becca blinked, and Pepper thought they were both a little startled by the harsh denial.

“We’re fine,” she continued shakily. “It’s just…” She shook her head again and rolled onto her back, pushing her hand into her messy hair. Pepper kept her eyes on Becca as the other woman tried to collect her thoughts, trying to discern anything that would give her more of a clue as to what could have happened to freak her out this bad.

Becca heaved a sigh and rolled her head to face Pepper again. “I’m pregnant.”

Pepper blinked. “Oh.”

She looked away for a second, abruptly recalling Thor’s casual certainty that the pregnancy he sensed wasn’t Becca’s—clearly, he’d been mistaken there. “How did Thor take it?” she asked carefully, because she wouldn’t ever disrespect Becca by asking if the baby was Thor’s at all.

Becca scoffed quietly. “I think he’s ecstatic. Not that he’s told me that—he’s…” she exhaled roughly, voice thick with tears. “He’s trying so hard not to pressure me, but I—” she broke off and shook her head. “I can’t make this kind of decision on my own.”

She turned towards Pepper again, tears running down her cheeks, and choked, “I don’t want to do this on my own.”

“Oh, Gummy Bear,” Pepper breathed, opening her arms readily to catch Becca when she pitched forward, bursting into tears again. She rubbed her hand across Becca’s back as she sobbed, and immediately understood why Steve had looked so entirely exhausted.

She felt instantly horrible for thinking it, and held Becca a little tighter.

“Maybe you should tell him that,” she suggested softly, running her fingers through Becca’s hair like she’d been doing since Becca was an insecure teenager with a desperate need for a female role model in her life. “He might be a god, but he can’t read your mind, Becs. Maybe he’s scared too.”

“He wants kids,” Becca whispered, not lifting her head from Pepper’s shoulder. “I know he wants them, he’s told me that he does—it just… I didn’t think I… that we would ever…” She sniffed. “After Iraq, I put it out of my mind. No use in wanting what I couldn’t have. And then with Thor, I—it didn’t matter anyway, because we couldn’t. And now I…” she shrugged helplessly. “Now I don’t know what I want.”

Pepper swallowed thickly.

She hadn’t known the full extent of the consequences to Becca’s capture and torture, but she’d known some were long-lasting. She wondered if Tony and Rhodey had known—she supposed Rhodey must’ve known, given he had been with Becca for most of her recovery overseas, and Tony had barely left her side once she’d been returned to the States—and then decided it didn’t matter if they’d known.

All that mattered was that Becca was clearly having trouble processing the pregnancy.

“How about,” Pepper suggested slowly, thoughtfully, “you and I take a few days away. I know this spa that’s perfectly safe for pregnant people—designed for us, really. We can get massages, relax, and you can take the time to think things through, without having the pressure of everyone being there to ask you about it all the time. You can talk to me, or your grandmother, or your therapist, but you don’t have to.”

Becca was quiet for a beat.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “And then I need to talk to Thor. It’s not just my life.”

Pepper sighed. “No, it isn’t.”

“I just,” Becca croaked. “I love him. I don’t want this to break us.”

Pepper tightened her arms around Becca but didn’t say anything. Offering her a meaningless platitude wouldn’t help—she couldn’t promise that this wouldn’t break Becca and Thor. Things like these were deal breakers in relationships for a lot of people, and Pepper couldn’t say if it would be one for Thor and Becca too.

She didn’t think Becca knew if it was one either.

“You’ll figure it out, Gummy Bear,” she said softly. “You’re not alone in this. We got you.”

——————————

BREAKING: “IRON MAN AND CAPTAIN AMERICA ARRESTED BY NYPD OFFICERS FOR DESTRUCTION OF CITY PROPERTY AND RESISTING ARREST.”

4December 2015 — Cities are, of course, as we all know, hard places. Filled with concrete, asphalt, wood and steel surfaces, urban centers manifest their edge physically as well as metaphorically. Much of what makes cities seem unfriendly is not happenstance; they are intentionally engineered to keep us moving. The trick to urban design that creates discomfort, known as “hostile architecture”, is that its tools are hidden in plain sight.

[…]more aggressive forms of such “hostile architecture” have been popping up in recent years, to greater protest of city residents. […]problems with architectures of control is that they don’t discriminate. An uncomfortable bench is as uncomfortable for a homeless person as it is for a tired passerby or for someone looking for a place to read. Moreover […] doesn’t address the underlying problem of homelessness.

They simply shift it from one area to another, or worst still, reduce its visibility.

There have been many widespread campaigns insisting on the removal of such blatant “hostile architecture”, such as spikes and uncomfortable seating areas, if there are any at all. Many celebrities have put their names behind such campaigns, but none have been so blatant about their support as Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man, and Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America.

[…]both men were captured on camera as they destroyed several of such spikes and broke off an uncomfortably placed seat divide, constantly insincerely apologizing to the police officers who arrived at the scene shortly after, refusing to move until they had finished thoroughly destroying every spike and every trace of such “hostile architecture”.

[…]NYPD put out a statement saying that they indeed arrested two men in relation to the incident and charged them with property damage, but would release no names with the statement.

[…]James Rhodes was seen exiting the 1st Precinct mere hours after the arrest was made, pinching the bridge of his nose, while Rogers and Stark high-fived behind him. There has been no official commentary from the Avengers Press Team, nor Stark Industries representatives.

—John Michael Kilbane, ‘Iron Man and Captain America Arrested for Destruction of Public Property’, Topic Online Magazine, 4 December 2015

——————————

Tony Stark’s lab, Stark Industries R&D Floor, Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, U.S.A.

December 4th, 2015 – 7:31 PM

Steve

“Uh,” Steve said, swinging his legs idly as he scrolled on his phone, frowning at the small screen in confusion. “Tony. Why is someone called Farhan Zaidi emailing me about meeting with him and a guy called Andrew Friedman at my earliest convenience?”

He was perched on one of the workbenches in Tony’s lab, where they had wisely retreated before Pepper got her hands on them—she was decidedly unhappy about the PR nightmare they’d created when they’d accidentally broken some exceptionally hostile benches and seating areas—listening to Tony’s chatter about something involving his Harley that he should probably be more concerned about.

Last time he’d given Tony free reign to tinker on his bike, he’d ended up with something that could’ve easily doubled as a rocket.

Tony looked up, hair wild and spiked in several gravity-defying directions, a smear of oil or grease on his cheek and grinned. “Because you’re the new owner of the Los Angeles Dodgers, Rogers. Gotta meet with your general manager and your president of baseball operations to talk shop. Financial projections, your yearly contribution to its funds, stuff like that.”

“What?”

Something a lot like panic burned hot in his chest, and he looked up at Tony abruptly. “Tony,” he choked. “I don’t know anything about running a baseball team! Or financial projections! I didn’t even finish high school, and I was terrible at math. I made Bucky do my homework.”

Tony looked up, likely disturbed by the abject panic in his voice, and his expression immediately softened into something more sympathetic. “Hey,” he said, getting to his feet as he wiped his hands on the nearest rag—which Steve suspected was an old band t-shirt. “Don’t worry about shit like that; I was kidding. We got other people to do that kind of stuff, alright? They probably want to meet their new celebrity owner, that’s all.”

Steve swallowed thickly and nodded shakily.

“Think of the children, Steven,” Tony said seriously, although he was barely hiding his smirk, and Steve snorted a laugh despite himself.

There weren’t a lot of things that set him off like this anymore, and most of them were triggers he hadn’t even known he had himself, so he was grateful to all of the other Avengers—and mostly Tony, who had surprised him by patiently showing him coping methods to get through the sudden panic—for not judging him when one came up so suddenly.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “Alright.”

Tony grinned when Steve relaxed, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder with the wrench he was still holding. “Also, I’m totally calling bullshit on you being bad at math—I’ve seen you calculate angles in a split second! You wield that physics defying shield of yours using the power of math, don’t deny it!”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “It’s not math,” he denied. “I mean—I just… I look, and then I know where to throw it and how to hit the wall to make it rebound.”

Tony snorted derisively. “It’s math, Rogers, don’t pretend.”

Steve chuckled and put his phone down, leaning back on his hands. “Sure, Tony.”

Tony just shook his head and retreated to the Harley, and the both of them fell silent for a few minutes before Tony piped up again. “So. You made your boyfriend do your homework. Tell me more, Steven. How did you convince him to do that? Were you able to make a compelling argument?” He waggled his eyebrows and Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous expression he made.

“I didn’t have to convince him,” Steve chuckled. “He was a fucking nerd, he loved doing our homework. You realize we’re talking about the same guy that took me on a date to a science fair for fun.” He rolled his eyes at Tony and shook his head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Stark.”

“No can do, mon capitaine,” Tony crowed. “It is my favorite summer home.”

“I’ll be sure to inform Pepper of that,” Steve deadpanned, reaching for the sketchbook and charcoal pencils Tony still denied he bought specifically for Steve, settling in to sketch Tony as he bent over Steve’s Harley again, trying to lose himself in the familiar scratch of the pencil on paper, relishing in the way it helped the buzzing in his head quiet down a little.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Tony tinkering and Steve sketching, but when he looked up again, Tony had moved on to digging a screwdriver into one of his Iron Man gauntlets, frowning at the flickering blue light of the repulsor node as though it had personally betrayed him.

He had several completed sketches of Tony in various poses, and his hand stilled when he realized he’d somehow slipped into a sketch of Howard, bent over a workbench that held several rifles with Bucky by his side, an excited grin on his lips. Steve smiled when he recalled that day—he had been tied up in meetings for most of their stay on base, and Bucky had decided to bug Howard about upgrades to his rifle. Steve had found them six hours later, arguing heatedly about the best guns and the necessary upgrades to Bucky’s slightly alarming and continually growing weapons arsenal.

It’d been a good day.

“That my old man?”

Tony’s voice startled Steve from his reverie, and he looked up to find the man standing right in front of him, looking at the sketch with an entirely unreadable expression.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Talking guns with Bucky. Constantly trying to make upgrades.”

Tony snorted humorlessly, tossing the rag he’d been wiping his hands on aside carelessly. “Yeah. Figuring out how to make deadly weapons more efficient. Sounds like him alright.”

Steve winced.

He knew that Tony’s relationship with his father had been strained and that Howard had not been the best of fathers to his genius son, but it was difficult, still, to reconcile the memory of the joyous, enthusiastic man he’d known—annoying and arrogant as he may have been, at times—with the cold and callous father Tony described.

“Sorry,” Tony said gruffly, and Steve looked up, surprised.

Tony rolled his eyes at him and sighed. “I’m not entirely without self-awareness, Cap. The man I knew and the man you knew were clearly different people. The war… I think the war must’ve broken him. Must’ve hardened something in him—made him obsessive, angry…” Tony shrugged helplessly. “And he hated me because I wasn’t you.”

Steve looked away and shifted uncomfortably. He’d known that Howard was fond of him and Bucky, had liked hanging around with them, talking like he was part of the Howlies, like he was one of them, even though he was never a part of the fighting, even though he only supplied the weapons and stayed far from the blood-soaked, grueling reality of war.

“I don’t think he really knew me,” Steve said quietly. “I don’t think he saw me, really.”

Tony sighed. “That makes two of us.”

They were both silent for a moment before Tony heaved another, heavier, sigh and plopped down on one of his favored wheelie chairs, rubbing his hands through his hair, making it stick up even worse than it had been already. “Was he gay?” Tony blurted abruptly, and he looked about as surprised by his own question as Steve was.

Nonetheless, once it was out there, Tony seemed determined to continue.

“Do you think?” he added, shifting restlessly on his rolling chair. “I mean, I’m sure you might not know at all, but do you think he might’ve been—do you think that’s why he was so… so obsessed with you?”

Steve blinked, entirely caught off guard by the questions—by the implication—and shook his head.

“I thought,” he hesitated, “I thought he was in love with Peggy. I was surprised to hear he married someone else, when I woke up. That he had loved someone else enough to marry her.” Steve shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know, Tony. I don’t think he was gay, though.”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know if there was a lot of love between my parents. To be honest, I always kind of figured they got married because she was pregnant with me.”

Steve bit his lip. “I’m sorry that he turned out the way he did,” he offered.

Tony shrugged. “I’m glad you weren’t like he described you,” he finally said, refusing to meet Steve’s eye. “I kind of don’t hate your ass, Rogers.”

“Awe,” Steve crooned at Tony, because he could tell Tony was uncomfortable talking about this, and Steve was nothing if not a bit of an asshole. “I love your ass too, Tony.” He tossed the sketchbook aside and leapt off the table, reaching out towards Tony as if to hug him, relishing in the way Tony shrieked when he realized what Steve was doing, slapping at his hands ineffectively.

“No!” Tony shouted, stumbling off his chair as if it was on fire, skidding around a table to get away from Steve. “Stay there, Rogers! You’ve not unlocked this level of friendship yet.”

Steve smirked before he pouted at Tony playfully. “Awe, Tony. Lemme love on ya a bit, yeah?”

“Nope,” Tony yelled as he fled the lab with Steve on his heels, making obnoxious kissing noises.

——————————

Personal floor Of Steve Rogers, Becca Barnes and Thor, Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, U.S.A.

December 9th, 2015 – 3:01 PM

Becca

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, she exhaled, resting her back against its flat surface for a moment to gather her bearings. The spa Pepper had taken her to for the week had, despite her own expectations, helped to settle her increasingly frantic thoughts, and having Pepper to talk to had helped her sort through her thoughts and feelings about the… about the baby and what it meant for her future—with or without Thor.

She’d even talked it through with Steve a little.

She exhaled shakily and dropped her bag to the floor before crossing the room to collapse on her bed.

“Hey, Heimdall,” she said slowly, feeling a little stupid for essentially talking to thin air, but she figured it was the most surefire way to make sure Thor would get the message. He’d told her, once, that if she needed him when he was on Asgard, she just had to call for Heimdall and he would send for him.

She hoped that was still true.

“Could you—could you tell Thor I want to see him? Please?”

Predictably, there was no answer.

Becca heaved another sigh and kicked off her sneakers before wiggling up the bed until her head was comfortably situated on a pillow. She stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, hands folded together on her stomach, trying to prepare for what she needed to say to Thor when he got there.

She’d… not practiced, per se, more like... gone over what she needed to say with Pepper and Steve, but the prospect of actually having to have a serious discussion with Thor about their future for the first time in their entire relationship was scary. It wasn’t that they’d never had serious discussions, or that they avoided talking about the future entirely, just that…

Just that it was complicated.

It wasn’t just about what they wanted—their relationship had bigger ramifications than just for them. Thor was the crown prince of Asgard, and while Asgard wasn’t a human nation, she imagined their ideas about succession and heirs worked just about the same as they did on Earth.

If they kept the baby… They’d have to find out what that would mean for Asgard, for Thor, for the line of succession, and they’d have to find out how they wanted their relationship to progress from this point forward. She would have to decide if she could live with… with knowing that if she stayed with Thor, she’d be giving him a commitment for the rest of her life, knowing he couldn’t promise her the same kind of commitment.

She hadn’t… she hadn’t really let herself think about it.

She wanted Thor to be happy, of course, and if they did stay together, if Thor outlived her… she wouldn’t want him to have to mourn her forever, but…

It just felt unequal.

It felt unfair to both of them that, even if he’d want to, Thor wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of his life with her. She didn’t want it to feel like as much of a big deal as it did, because it wasn’t like this was new, or that she hadn’t known about this from the start, but here she was.

Her hand drifted down without any conscious thought, and she swallowed thickly when her fingers pressed against the slightly more sensitive skin on her lower belly. “I hope you know,” she said aloud, although she felt a little silly for talking to what was essentially a clump of cells at this point, “that whatever happens, your dad is going to adore you. And I… I will too, I think, for as long as I’m here. I just hope you won’t think too badly of me when I mess up.”

“I imagine if our child is anything like you, it could never think poorly of you, Krúttið mitt.”

She sat up abruptly and stared at Thor, who stood in the doorway, hair windblown and messy, dressed in the loose black trousers that he wore to sleep, and a long, red overcoat. He offered her a small, uncertain smile, but made no move to come closer without her say-so.

She swallowed thickly. “Hi,” she offered lamely.

Thor smiled indulgently—though nervously—and replied, “Hi, Becca.”

“I missed you,” Becca blurted, cheeks heating a little as the words fell from her lips—that was not what she’d been meaning to say. She wasn’t sure what she had been trying to say, but it wasn’t that.

True as it might be.

Thor, however, took it in stride and moved into the room, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t move to sit on the bed—their bed—and made to sit in the armchair instead, but Becca suddenly couldn’t stand the distance between them anymore. “No,” she told him abruptly. “No, please, if… you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—can you please sit with me?”

Thor remained still for a moment, halfway between the bed and the armchair, eyes searching hers for… something, before he nodded. “Of course, Krúttið mitt.”

Becca watched, feeling far more nervous about being so close to Thor than she ever had before, as he approached the bed and crawled over to sit beside her. She exhaled shakily and leaned in, pressing their shoulders together—a simple touch that dispelled more of the tension between them than she’d expected it would.

“Have you—” Thor began carefully, “—have you been able to give our… our child some thought?”

She caught the way his hand twitched, and the way his eyes strayed towards her still-flat belly, and swallowed thickly. It took her a moment to decide to move, to decide that she needed to be able to look him straight in the eye while she said what she needed to say—

She sat up again and turned towards Thor, crossing her legs beneath her.

Thor mirrored her position without complaint and reached out to take her hands in his.

Becca swallowed and looked down at their hands for a moment before she said, “I need you to tell me what you want. I know you’ve been keeping your thoughts on… on us, on the baby, on what you really want to yourself because you didn’t want to pressure me with it, and I really appreciate that, but I need to know what you want now.” She swallowed against the tears that burned in her eyes and squeezed Thor’s fingers before she continued, “I can’t make this decision on my own, and I don’t want to either. Whatever we decide to do will have consequences for more than just us, and I think… I think we need to discuss them, at least.”

Thor nodded seriously. “I’ve not said anything to… to avoid putting more pressure on you.”

Becca smiled tightly and squeezed his hands again. “And I appreciate that. I needed the time to process this, and I have, but… I don’t think we can make a decision about this, about the future without talking about the consequences.”

“That is fair,” Thor nodded. “And I… I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t properly considered the consequences yet, but you are right in saying that we should.” He smiled at her and added, “I sense that you have questions—that there are things you need to know.” He squeezed his fingers around hers and swept his thumb across her knuckles. “Ask me what you want to know, elskan min.”

Becca nodded and looked down, thinking. “Would you name our baby your heir? Could you even do that if we’re not married? Do we need to get married—do you even want that? Was that what that dance meant, at the feast? And I mean… How would that even work, with our lifespans? And for that matter…Will the baby have your lifespan or mine?”

Thor blinked, and Becca felt momentarily bad for the barrage of questions she’d unleashed on him, before he chuckled and shook his head. “Never one to do things by halves, are you, Krúttið mitt?”

She smiled sheepishly, and Thor chuckled again before his forehead creased into a frown. “I would name our child my heir,” he said decisively. “There are no definitive laws that state that I cannot, or that I must be married to the mother of said child, although…” He hesitated and looked up at her, “I would not be opposed. I did not think I would ever consider marriage after Loki, but… The intention was what I signified to the people when I danced inn matki munr with you, and I would greatly enjoy making the suggestion a reality—ifyou wanted that too.”

Becca stared at him.

“Oh,” she choked.

She… she wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but it hadn’t been that. She’d been very careful not to think of their relationship as anything more than temporary because she knew how he felt about marriage after losing Loki, and because it seemed like such an impossibility for an Aesir god to want to marry a simple human.

She huffed.

This was like finding out about the baby all over again.

Maybe she should revisit her coping mechanism of not thinking about things she couldn’t have anyway—it’d blown up in her face twice now.

“Are you sure? she asked quietly. “You could marry an Aesir—someone like Sif. She’s beautiful, and I’m sure she loves you, even if you don’t think so. And I don’t think your father would try so hard to separate you as he does with us. He probably wouldn’t have you sleep in different wings of the palace, and he’d definitely acknowledge her as more than your ‘guest’.”

She snorted and shook her head.

“He’d probably rejoice. He was going to betroth you to her before Loki came along. It’d be so much easier...” she trailed off and looked away from him, her stomach tying itself in uncomfortable knots at the thought of Thor being with Sif instead.

She nearly jumped when Thor’s fingers suddenly touched her cheek lightly, tilting her chin up so she’d look at him. “Perhaps it would be easier,” Thor said frankly, softly. “But it would not be real, Rebecca. Not real like what you and I have managed to build together. I’ve told you before, Krúttið mitt, and I’ll say it again as often as you like: I’m yours. However long you want me for, I’m yours.”

She swallowed thickly, blinking back tears as she looked at him. “What if that’s for the rest of my life?” she whispered, pulling his hand—the hand that was still curled around hers—to her belly, resting it just above where their baby was growing.

Thor rubbed his thumb over her cheek tenderly and smiled. “Then we will work hard to ensure we have the happiest life imaginable. Together.”

A tear ran down her cheek, and she smiled weakly. “…and if I want you for the rest of your life?”

Thor’s smile never wavered, even as he leaned in and pressed a feather light kiss to her lips. “Then I will find a way to give you that,” he whispered against her lips, resting their foreheads together.

Becca sobbed again, dryly and tiredly, and slung her arms around Thor, hugging him close and allowing him to manhandle her until they were stretched out on the bed together, pressed together from head to toe.

“Thor?” she said quietly, leaning back a little so she could look at him without going cross-eyed. Thor moved back a little too, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear, and Becca loved him. “I think I want to keep the baby,” she told him quietly.

Thor smiled, leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Me too,” he said when he leaned back. “Me too.”

——————————

Residence of Samuel Wilson, Washington D.C., U.S.A.

December 12th, 2015 – 9:34 AM

Steve

“So are we ever going to talk about it?”

Steve looked up from where he was drowning his pancakes in syrup and blinked at Sam, who was seated across from him at the kitchen island, both of them still dressed in their running gear. They’d gone running early that morning, despite Steve’s late arrival back in D.C. for the weekend the previous night, and Steve had thoroughly enjoyed running literal laps around Sam to annoy the other man.

He’d missed their easy comradery and Sam’s good-natured teasing, and it felt good to be away from New York for a bit. He loved it still—it was his city, after all, the city he’d died to save—and he enjoyed living in the Tower well enough, because he liked being so close to all of the others, but it got suffocating sometimes too.

Sam’s offer for him to stay the weekend had come at the perfect time—now that Becca and Thor had decided on their future, it was like they’d reverted back to the early stages of their relationship, where they were utterly unable to keep their hands off of each other.

Steve was a little tired of walking in on them everywhere.

Things had been a lot less tense at Sam’s place.

Up until now, of course.

“Talk about what?” he asked, innocently blinking at Sam, because he did have some idea of what it was that Sam meant, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to address it already. Their… their thing was mostly unspoken and Steve had let it be that way because he really did like Sam a lot, and he found him very attractive, but… but he still couldn’t really imagine actually actively being with him.

With anyone.

Sam gave him a flat look, and Steve relented, putting down the syrup and leaning his forearms on the kitchen island. “Sam,” he sighed, looking up at the other man from beneath his lashes. “Do we have to do this now?”

“We have to at some point,” Sam said reasonably. “I’d rather not keep avoiding it until we start resenting each other.” He shrugged. “We gotta talk about what we want this,” he gestured between them, “to be.”

Steve sighed. It wasn’t like they were constantly teetering on the edge of being friends and being more, but there had been plenty of moments where they’d passed firmly into the gray area between friendship and… more. Steve knew they needed to acknowledge those moments, that they couldn’t ignore them indefinitely, but… God, it was just easier to let things happen.

It’d worked well enough for Thor and Becca—who said it couldn’t for him and Sam?

He caught Sam’s eye and sighed again.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “yeah, okay. Look, it’s…” He rubbed his hands across his face and groaned. “I’ve spent the last few days watching my best friend agonize about whether her future would include the man she loved, or if they were just doomed for failure, if it’d be easier on them both if they gave up now—and she picked him. They chose each other, and God, I want that.” He looked up at Sam with watery eyes and smiled weakly. “I want that, Sam. I miss that. And I want more than anything to love someone like that again, but I don’t…” he shook his head. “I don’t think I can, and I don’t think I will any time soon either.”

He was a little surprised by his own expressiveness, but he had been thinking about it for a while, despite his reluctance to actually talk about it out loud.

Sam reached out and patted his hand comfortingly. “Look,” he said slowly, “I never expected you to be able to shrug off the loss of a fifteen-year relationship as intense as yours just like that, man.” He shrugged. “Lord knows it took me forever, and Riley and I had only been together a few years. Maybe our timing’s just… off.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “Maybe.”

They were both silent for a bit before Steve continued, “So… I know we said just friends before, but… I really can’t handle more than a friend right now, so can we—can we just go to being friends for real this time? Is—is that okay?”

“Yeah, Steve,” Sam smiled, looking a little relieved, and a little sad. “That’s okay.” He grinned cheekily and added, “That does mean you should probably sleep on the couch tonight though.” Steve snorted a laugh and tossed a strawberry at Sam, who just ducked it and threw one of his own back.

They didn’t usually share the bed, but they’d both been exhausted by the time Steve made it to D.C., and Sam hadn’t made up the couch for him yet.

Steve hadn’t minded the intimacy of it.

He’d been sharing beds with people for as long as he could remember; with his ma and Bucky, and later with the Howlies too, on colder nights during the war—it wasn’t something exclusive to his relationship with Bucky, and it didn’t trigger him so much as other things did.

Steve knew that Sam wouldn’t mind sharing the bed even now, whether they were friends or more, but he could see how it would be awkward tonight. As relaxed and easy and uncomplicated as it had been yesterday, he imagined that being semi-rejected by one’s semi-love interest was something Sam probably needed to wrap his head around.

He could probably do with the privacy.

Still.

Steve was a little shit at heart, and so he couldn’t just roll over and take it. “I’ll wrestle ya for the bed,” he told Sam cheekily, dodging another strawberry neatly.

Sam pointed his fork at Steve menacingly. “I will beat your skinny white ass.”

Steve gaped at him. “I’m a supersoldier,” he exclaimed. “I can literally punch through a wall. I punched a tank once.” He winced at the memory—not because he had actually managed to hurt himself, but because Bucky had been furious with him and had spent over an hour yelling at him after shooting every Nazi in his way in the face.

Sam chuckled. “Irrelevant. I know your weak spot.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him, because he was fairly certain no one alive knew about the ticklish spot just above the back of his left knee, but it seemed like an awful big risk to take nonetheless.

“You win this round,” he told Sam reluctantly, and pointed his fork at the other man in a way that might’ve been menacing if there hadn’t been a piece of syrup-soaked pancake speared on its tines. “But watch your back, Wilson.”

Sam just chuckled.

—————————

Undisclosed Hydra Base, New York City, New York, United States of America

December 12

, 2015 – 3:32 PM Alexander Pierce

He watched detachedly as the technicians went through the procedure of thawing the Soldier, catching the man as he fell out of the tube and dragging the limp man across the room and securing him into the chair. Thick metal bands were secured around his wrists and ankles, and Pierce raised an eyebrow when the men went a step further and secured a similar kind of metal harness around the Soldier’s torso.

“A necessary precaution,” one of the doctors told him when he saw his expression. “It’s usually disoriented and violent when brought out of cryo—more so, according to records, when it’s due for new calibration.”

“Very well,” Pierce nodded. “How long will it take to get it operational again?”

The doctor shrugged. “Anywhere between ten and fourteen sessions.” He gestured to the notes he held and added, “According to Zola’s notes from the last time the Asset had to be recalibrated entirely, it took them seventeen months to rebreak him and then recondition him.”

Pierce ground his teeth. “Very well,” he hissed. “Get on with it then.” He turned on his heel, stalking out of the room, the door falling shut behind him just as the doctor began, “Желани—"

To Be Continued in “Dancing in the Rain”.

—————————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the sequel HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #starting over #Stucky #Stucky fanfiction #Steve rogers #thor #Rebecca barnes #avengers family #my writing #Lisa writes

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theyrealllegends · 5 years

Text

Careful (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Chapter Summary: You’re gonna meet Freddie and I hope you like him! Also, there’s a lot of stressed Rog in this one, before we’re eventually moving to some fluff.

Author’s Note: Guys, thank you for your insane feedback on chapter 1, I almost started crying when I hit the 100 notes because I wasn’t even thinking I would ever reach them! I love you all and I hope you enjoy the next chapters just as much! Let me know if you have any comments or wishes!

Words: ~1.8k but I’m trying to write longer chapters!

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and drinking, slight swearing and pet names (lol), nothing too crazy so enjoy

Chapter 2:

Previous Parts: Ch. 1

The flat got quieter as Roger’s exams started. He’d be home with you much more, running his hands through his hair over his books that weren’t as big as yours but with graphs of skulls and different teeth that looked more complex than your longest laws. The amount of first English breakfast tea and then black coffee the two of you drank grew to new extremes but you secretly loved how good it was not to study alone for some time. It kept you going to know that you weren’t in this alone and it sparked your sense for competition to procrastinate less than Roger. Also, he’d ask you the mock exam questions you had and you’d do the same for him, finding out any trouble spots you had to go over again and also teaching each other the bases of your subjects in the process.

“I’m so sure I’m gonna fail, I should drop out just now!”, Roger moaned from the kitchen table. You were preparing some noodles to feed the two of you for another late night of studying.

“You’re not dropping out anywhere! Why do you even say that?!” “First of all because it’s too hard”, he said, pressing his hands to his face. “Second of all because I don’t love it half as much as you love your laws.”

“I come from a family of lawyers, I basically grew up with law books everywhere, I really can’t be a standard.”

“You should’ve told me way earlier! I mean, I have a similar - but not inherited passion for biology and I bet I wouldn’t question that as hard as I question these damn teeth and gums and whatnot!”

“Are you sure?”, you asked while you carried the pan full of noodles to the table. “Because I feel like you’re only trying to convince yourself something else would be better so you can stop studying.”

“That’s only half of why I’m done with becoming a dentist. I mean can you even imagine me there, taking care of your smile?”

“Don’t forget to smile”, you said, quoting the name of his band what made him smile in return.

“We’re Queen now, I would’ve told you if I had thought I had enough time to breath.”

“How come?”

“That fucker Tim just left, no idea why but luckily Freddie is our new lead singer now and man, he’s great.”

“Sounds good!”, you told him to wipe the look of anger from his face when he mentioned Tim.

“It was enough of a pain in the ass to find a new bassists really”, he grumbled on until his face lit up. “Fred asked me to move in with him but I told him I wouldn’t move anywhere without you.” You shook your head to get back to reality after your heartbeat dropped for a second.

“Rog, you can move in with him if you want to, you talk about him non-stop!”

“Yeah, but he’s not you, Tiff”, Roger said honestly. “I need this”, he explained, nodding to his books, the food in front of him and then looking into your eyes. “I need you, I can’t imagine living without you.”

“I mean”, you say, your cheeks burning, looking at your pasta. “We can find a flat that’s big enough for the three of us?”

“I’ll tell him to look for that”, Roger said immediately and you could tell he was surprised that you considered that but also, that he was very happy about it. You were surprised about yourself, too, really, agreeing to move in with another guy you didn’t know a lot about - and what you knew didn’t really speak for him, taking into account that Roger said Freddie was a heavier drinker than him, smoked more, sang on top of his lungs basically anytime he wasn’t talking about fashion - you didn’t know what had gotten into you, but you didn’t really mind. You felt like it was a good thing, you actually wanted to step out of your comfort zone like that in that moment. “You wanna smoke some pot?”

Your face dropped and your hands clenched into fists - every thought about comfort zones wiped from your brain. “Roger Meddows Taylor. If I catch you smoking pot in this flat or anywhere on earth, I’ll call the cops to get you arrested myself, there’s reasons why it’s illegal!”

“I was joking, Tiff”, he immediately said, trying to calm you down again. “I just wanted to see if my law-loving girl was up for something illegal.”

“I don’t believe you but I’ll let you get away with it”, you murmured and he smiled before finishing his pasta.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Roger did drop out of his classes in the end and even though he had you convinced he did the right thing, you hated him for dropping out - because it meant he went out to celebrate his freedom and came home freaking wasted as your alarm clock’s digits let you know you’d only have thirty minutes left to sleep.

“Shit, I’m sorry”, Roger mumbled as you opened your door to check on him. “I swear I didn’t want to wake you.” “Shouldn’t have dropped your keys then, love”, you told him, grabbing his arm to lead him to his room. His breath was hot and came in short yet deep inhalations and his lips caught your attention because they looked swollen. You tried to ignore it when you finally had Roger sit on his bed. He grabbed your hand as you wanted to go for the kitchen and pulled you into him, resulting in his head cuddled against your tummy and his armes wrapped around your waist.

“Come ‘ere and go back to sleep, babe, it’ll be like I never woke you up”, he said, at least that’s what you thought you understood from his mumbled words.

“I’ll have to get up in thirty minutes anyway, Rog.” He probably didn’t hear you, if he did he wasn’t paying attention because he just crawled backwards onto his bed, pulling you with him between the numerous patterned sheets and every thing else that was on his bed: clothes, books, you could’ve sworn you heard a bag of crisps or whatever fall to the ground as Roger finally rested his head on one of his pillows and pulled you into his chest that was only halfway covered in whatever fabric it might be. He kicked off his shoes while he kissed your forehead and buried one hand in your hair, the other one moving under the shirt you had been sleeping in. His skin was warm and he moaned softly as you moved to at least lie comfortable for the ten minutes or what you wanted to allow yourself in his bed. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat but there was also a hint of peppermint and clean clothes that reminded you of the flat you two called home right now and it made you calm as you closed your eyes, leaning into him.

When you woke up, the sun had already risen but you surprised yourself by not freaking out and just carefully escaping Roger’s bed and his extremely chaotic room. He came to your room hours later and just silently started massaging your shoulders when he just saw you there, trying to find relieve in stretching them.

“Sorry for waking you up”, he mumbled and you moaned instead of a response because - and you would deny ever thinking that - his hands made you feel so good.

“It’s fine you can repay me in massages”, you told him, leaning into him. He cleaned his throat and moved behind you until you were resting against his chest.

“Anytime, sweetie. When’s that exam? It’s your last one right?”

“I got one on Friday which is in two days and the last one Monday.”

“I mean, you shouldn’t go out on Mondays but I’d still buy you drinks if you let me.”

“I don’t drink, you know that Rog.”

“I can pay for your Pepsi then, please, Tiff, let me take you out and meet the boys!”

“We’ll see, okay?”

“Sure, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe, Roggie.” He just laughed at your pet name and moved away from you.

“You want coffee?”

“I’d love some but you’d need to go to the store.”

“I need cigarettes anyway”, he replied, still groaning with all the moving and fresh air waiting for him.

*-*-*-*-*-*

It was Saturday and you felt the need to glue yourself to your desk, yet Roger somehow managed to persuade you to join him and Freddie to visit the flat that might become your home in the future.

“It’s cheaper than this one, at least with three people and Fred is really fucking excited about it”, Roger had told you, as he came back from band practice last night. The stress to prepare for your last exam faded a little as excitement got you. You’d eventually move out of the small flat your dad kept telling you was too expensive and your mom found rotten and too noisy from the street. Also, you’d finally see Freddie, the man Roger was such good friends with and you never got around to meet.

“There you are!”, he said as he slid in the backseat of Roger’s car that you finally agreed to ride in with him. “You must be Tiffany, it’s so nice to meet you!”

“The pleasure’s on me”, you replied shyly yet smiling at Freddie. He wore a dark red suede blazer and black pants and you grinned because you were sure you had seen his shirt on Roger once or twice before. This would be fun, you were sure that moment.

Except when you looked at the flat, the most gorgeous flat you could imagine living in on the budget your parents provided you, Freddie would be an absolute asshole, to a point where you were sure the landlord wouldn’t want you to move in, ever.

“I’d lower the rent by 200 pounds, if that’d change your mind”, the lady explained at the end of the visit and your eyes widened in surprise.

“My dear friend Tiffany here is a lawyer, she’ll make sure you’re bound to that”, Freddie just explained and extended his hand. Your future landlord looked at you and you gave her the best professional smile you could master with all the excitement starting to cook up in your chest, before she sealed the deal by shaking Freddie’s and then Roger’s hand.

“I can’t believe you fucking did this, man”, Roger mumbled, as the woman motioned for her hardback in the kitchen. “You’re a genius, Fred!”