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soft-girl-musings · 1 month

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Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 5 (Something's Gotta Give)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief mention of past injury, spanish translation at end (courtesy of @queerponcho, thank you beloved)

wc: 3.4k

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: immovable object? the unstoppable force would like a word.

__________

As far as peace offerings go, it’s not the worst.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself as you stand outside your neighbor’s apartment, your fist failing to close the distance and knock. In one hand you hold a plate of pastries you’d bought earlier. Hopefully it’s enough.

Before you can raise your hand again, the door whips open.

Leah Mendoza, ever the force to be reckoned with, stands with arms akimbo and eyebrow raised. “Quit shuffling your feet and come inside, nena.”

You oblige wordlessly. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel the warmth of her apartment embrace you. Not that she’s escaped the chill that plagues your building; Leah is an artist, and every flat surface serves as either canvas or easel. Most spaces are covered in surreal portraits and near-magical icons, her handiwork displayed as a gorgeously chaotic gallery. Sunlight streams through gauzy curtains to feed sprawling plants and attempts to warm the richly colored rug beneath your feet.

You leave your shoes at the door and hold out the platter, smiling sheepishly. “Hope you still have a sweet tooth.”

“It's been so long, I'm surprised you remember.” Despite her playfully icy tone, Leah’s expression warms as she peeks at the pan de mallorca you hand over.

“...But I suppose going five blocks out of your way for breakfast makes up for it.” She nudges you with her hip before escorting you to the kitchen.

“Look what the cat dragged in, Caro,” Leah calls out to the seating area as she pours two mugs of coffee. You see your other friend’s smiling eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Ohhh, it’s been ages!” she squeals as she rushes to your side, tackling you with an enthusiastic hug.

Caroline Ngo, the youngest of your trio, has always brought a much-needed energy to your time together. When she and her parents moved in, you and Leah decided to adopt her into your early morning ritual of coffee and gossip. As her rosy cheeks beam up at you, you’re (a bit selfishly) grateful that she’s delayed her college applications by a year. You’re not ready to part with your other baby bird just yet.

Still, you pry yourself from her grasp. “Something tells me you had an early start on the coffee.”

“Maybe,” she drawls as she saunters away. Leah passes you a steaming mug, prepared just the way you like it.

The three of you sit, sipping and smiling as the room grows brighter with the sunrise. Leah regales you with the results of her latest art show; Caroline badgers you for updates about Mauricio, dimpled cheeks flushed as she speaks. For a few moments, everything feels like it used to.

Leah finishes her pastry and turns to you. “So, ‘Ms. Songbird’. How are you?”

You shrug, dismissive. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You haven't been around for us to see your ‘usual’.” Leah's voice is measured, but she’s clearly frustrated. “Can you tell me the last time we've heard more than a ‘good morning’ from you? Or were together for longer than an elevator ride to our floor?”

You chuckle nervously. “Goodness, maybe… August? September?”

“June.” She sips her coffee before setting it down. “Are things really so busy at work that you can't spare a moment for us anymore?”

If only you knew.

“I'm sorry, ladies. Truly. But things have been picking up at the lounge, I've even had to get outside help–”

“Ah yes, the altar boy lawyer.” Leah shakes her head. “I thought you were done with him.”

“‘Done with him?’ Leah, he's my friend.”

“Oh, I recall. So good a friend that he lets you ice his bruises and clean his cuts.” She crosses her arms. “So good, he's even bringing new friends with the same scrapes to your door.”

“The other night was an emergency–”

“How long are you going to run around with that kind of crowd?” Her voice bites. “Believe me, I know my share of the nightlife. But every time you bring home some broken man, a load of trouble seems to follow.”

This is not where you saw the morning going. “I thought we were spending time together, not berating the company I keep.”

“Please don't be upset,” Caroline pleads, taking your hand from her seat on the floor. “We miss you. You haven’t been home in weeks,” she laments. “At least, not for more than a couple of hours.”

You shift in your seat but give her hand a light squeeze. “I've missed you, too.”

“Then do something about it.” Leah gets up, crossing the room to distract herself with more coffee but then doubles back to look you in the eyes.

“You know my gut is never wrong, nena. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't speak my mind.”

You brace yourself as she continues. “You can spend your nights hiding behind your Songbird persona and running the lounge, but don't be surprised if the cage you're building around yourself is locked from the inside.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, leaving you and Caroline in silence.

Slowly, Caroline slides into Leah’s empty seat, her hand still on yours.

“... I always liked your stage name.”

You don’t say anything, instead letting your eyes trail through the patterns on the rug.

She scoots closer. “Leah’s just looking out for you. Like always.”

“I know, Caro.”

You feel her head rest on your shoulder. Tough love has always been Leah’s strong suit; as hard as you are on your boys, it’s bush league compared to your friend.

Caroline’s next words are low, whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “I know that man you were helping.”

You look down at her, dumbfounded. “Really? You know Jake?”

She sits up, eyes wide again. “Well, not technically. I never learned his name. But when he was leaving your apartment, I recognized his face.” Her small smile grows as she speaks. “There were days I’d stay out late after school, and I’d catch a ride from him sometimes. He’s really kind, not like some of the other cab drivers.”

Concern suddenly sweeps across her face. “Is he going to be alright?”

You think back to the morning he left your apartment: his bruises, your stitches, the blood that still stained his coat…

His hand on your hand, your face…

You don’t feel your fingers grazing the apple of your cheek until you hear Caroline giggle. Your hand drops to your lap as your face warms. “He’ll be fine. If he wised up and saw a real doctor, that is.” You shrug, reaching for your coffee.

“You care about him,” she teases.

“Oh, come off it,” you huff, nudging her leg with yours.

“And he obviously cares about you!” She squeals, lowering her voice when Leah turns her head toward the noise. “I saw him leave your apartment, but he stood there for ages, staring at your door.” Her grip on your hand grows unbearably tight. “What happened that night?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same question from the moment he left you standing in a bloodstained gown, your apartment colder without him. Since then, there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve been free from the memory of his face.

“I did him a favor. And… he may have done one for me, too.”

__________

Jake Lockley is man enough to admit when he’s been beaten.

In this case, he's absolutely won over. Head-over-heels, and at your mercy.

Maybe years from now, society adopts stricter rules for how soon you should call on a lady. Even today, some would advise against showing your hand too early. Some men wouldn’t want to seem too eager, too desperate.

But Jake Lockley is not a liar.

If “desperate” is the word for the incessant drumming in his chest each time you come to mind; if it’s what has him cutting corners and driving recklessly, ushering customers along at double the pace so his thoughts can return to you; if it’s why his palms sweat and nerves ache at the memory of your face that night, that morning… then Jake Lockley is desperate.

It’s hardly been a day and a half since he left your apartment, cold and injured. The suit stitched him back together in seconds; the only ache that remained was at the thought of you. You, who scooped him off the pavement and took pity on him. Who stained your hands with his blood to make it stop. You, who set his skin on fire with the smallest touch and had him convinced he would burn with or without it.

Screw the three day rule. He has to see you.

Hot under the collar, Jake now sits at the bar– your bar, long before normal business hours. Next to him is Matt, whose face hasn’t untwisted from the wry grin he’s had from the moment they met up.

“It’s like a jackhammer,” he chuckles into his glass, dodging Jake’s backhand swing.

“Can it, Murdock.” Jake’s hand returns to his own drink. Downing the rest, he raises his glass to the bartender. “Top me off, Mr. Manalo.”

Teddy obliges with shaking hands. He scoops up the bills Jake slides his way before dashing off. The two men had asked for privacy, and he’s determined to stay in their good graces.

Jake knocks back the new drink, swiping the excess from his lip as Matt’s laughter grows louder.

“You really need to calm down.”

“That’s what this was for,” Jake retorts, shaking his glass so the ice clinks against the edge. It’s doing him little good, though; from the moment he snuck in here that stormy night, he knew The Paper Moon as an extension of you. Even with the house lights up and nobody onstage, the lounge makes his heart race as quickly as if you were right beside him.

Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts. Matt’s quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “What’s on your mind, Murdock?”

“What’s on yours?” Telltale concern creeps into his voice. “How are things up there lately?”

Jake smirks, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Oh, you know. Loud… and quiet, in all the wrong ways.”

“Seems quieter than before.”

“Yeah?” Jake cocks an eyebrow. His mind doesn’t feel quieter, not the way it should. Khonshu’s been on his ass more often, doubling down when his thoughts dare to drift to anything besides the mission at hand. The god throwing a tantrum has become one of the few guarantees that remain.

“I mean it,” Matt reassures him. “It’s like night and day from when you returned stateside.”

Jake stirs the ice in his glass, tempted to hop the counter and refill it himself. It takes everything in him to repress the memory of “before,” to not think of the bloody business in El-Alamein. To forget when the occupancy of his mind dropped from three to two.

“Must be the good old American soil.” His sneer drops as he considers his next words. “... or the fool of a pro bono lawyer I managed to snag.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Or it could be the little bird that's caught your ear.”

Before Jake can respond, a pair of footsteps cross onto the stage behind them.

He turns to see you and Mauricio, backs to the house, talking in rushed succession as you survey the stage. You’re in a blouse and trousers, your movements easy and unrehearsed despite the growing exasperation in your voice.

“Maurie, I don't care how Leo feels the lights bounces off his new mustache wax, unless he can't follow my cues he's staying stage left. And–”

“No days off for you, are there?”

When you turn you see Jake, hat in hand and standing a few steps from the bar, as if he’d walked toward you but stopped halfway up the aisle. You can’t place the look on his face, but you're nevertheless pinned under the gaze of his now-healed eyes shining up at you.

“JAKE!” Mauricio startles you when he shouts, leaping off the stage to clasp hands with the older man.

“Hermano,” Jake chuckles, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. “¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?”

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" Mauricio leans in, examining the pale line running through Jake’s eyebrow with awe.

“Ah, just a scratch.” Jake shrugs as he brushes past him to approach the stage and offers his hand as you step down. You accept, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grasp.

“Leave the man alone, Maurie,” you chide, nodding your thanks and holding back a laugh. As much as Caroline fawns over you, Mauricio seems to do the same to Jake whenever their paths cross. It helps that he plays along.

As the three of you walk back to the bar, you notice Matt dial in to something and smile– far from his normal reaction.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than another drink, I have an appointment with Matthew this afternoon.” You cross over to your friend, whose smile only grows as you draw closer. But you brush it off, still focused on Jake.

“Actually,” he starts, his hand sliding into his pocket, “I was hoping to cut in on your consult time for a moment. That alright with you, doll?”

Matt clears his throat. “Mauricio, can you take me backstage? I should start unpacking this file.”

The drummer perks up. “Sure! But the band’s getting ready to play some poker… you feel like teaming up again? We can split the pot like usual.”

“Even better,” Matt grins. “Lead on.”

He gathers his portfolio and walking stick to follow. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you could see a moment of panic flicker across Jake’s face.

It’s replaced in a flash with his usual smirk. “Sure you want to risk your pocket change, Matty?”

“If all my clients paid like you do, I'd be out of a job.” He collects himself and follows Mauricio’s footsteps, turning to Jake and mouthing “jackhammer” with a hand to his chest when he’s behind you.

Their footfalls fade and it’s just the two of you at the bar. You take a seat, drumming your fingers on the surface to soothe your nerves. Jake sits beside you.

“You look better.” You notice the scar Maurie was talking about: his former head wound is free of your haphazard stitches, instead healed into a light dash through his dark brow. “But I told you that would scar.”

He shakes his head, brushing his fingers past the spot. “I kinda like it. Gives me an edge,” he chuckles. Maybe Khonshu hadn’t healed his face the way he normally would as some sort of lesson. Joke’s on him.

“How did… I mean, you look really good, how did you recover so quickly?” Now that you’re closer, you realize there’s no sign he was hurt just two days ago. If not for his scar, you could pass that night off as some sort of dream.

“You told me to see a doctor, didn’t you? Looks like I’ve got the best one around.”

You eye him, not sure what to think. “... yeah, alright.”

Your fingers drum the bar again. Maybe that night knocked all of Jake’s suave confidence from his head: when he’s not speaking (something you’re still not used to), he looks like a child about to lose his lunch. For all his urgency a few minutes ago, he’s taking his sweet time getting to the point.

Finally he sits up straight and takes something out of his pocket. “Here. For you, morena.”

A small black box slides toward you, stopping at your restless fingers. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“A present? Didn’t take you for the ‘holly-jolly’ type.” You pick up the box, feeling its velvet casing and fighting back a smile.

“Nah, not really a Christmas guy myself. But I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” Jake crosses one arm along the bar, propping his chin in his other hand as he watches you open the box.

Inside, you see a delicate gold chain with a charm fastened to its middle: a small bird with its wings spread, intricate designs etched into its surface.

“Oh my…” You look back at Jake, who seems to have been holding his breath as you examine your gift.

Your slowly unfolding smile is all the reward he could ask for, breathless laughter pushed from his chest with relief. “For the songbird,” he casually declares, relief mixing with pride at your reaction.

You take the necklace out and hold it to the light. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh. You undo the clasp and try to put it on yourself, but your fingers can’t seem to make it fasten.

“Allow me,” he says quickly, standing to move behind you and assist.

You feel his hands take over and drop your own in your lap. His knuckles brush the back of your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. The smell of smoke and spice dances on your senses, pulled away all too soon when he moves to stand in front of you.

“There,” he breathes, eyes going from the pendant draped below your collar to your eyes. “Looks perfect.”

Your fingers grasp the cool metal as you nod. “Looks perfect.”

Silence falls again. You’ve come to hate the sound of nothing when you’re with him.

Jake’s the first to break it. He sits back down, his next words like a punch to the gut. “You know, now that I’m not driving Wesley around… I won’t have to take up space at your back table anymore.”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.” You toy with the charm around your neck. “So is this… goodbye?”

“That depends,” he says cautiously. He turns to you, eyes swimming with the same unfamiliar mix of emotions from before. “Do you want it to be?”

Your fingers leave your neck as you meet his gaze. “Don't say you're going all soft on me, cabbie.”

“What if I was?” He leans forward, and for the first time you don't back away.

“Cards on the table: I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

That makes two of us. You bite your tongue to let him continue.

“Morena… would you ever want to get out of here? Just you and me, call it a truce or a… a date.” A smile plays on his lips before his brow creases. “I won't badger you after today, just… one way or another, put me out of my misery.”

The wings of the charm feel heavier with the weight of his confession. Hand to your heart, you feel the bird again, this time with Leah's warning running through your mind.

“I suppose a truce wouldn't hurt.”

When he smiles, wider than ever, you see the charming gap in his teeth. And you smile, too. You both laugh, the heated stress in your nerves turning to effervescent relief.

You could spend an hour like this. But when you hear shouts of frustration and a bilingual litany of choice words echo from backstage, you know you have to go put out a different fire.

“I should make sure Matthew isn't in trouble,” you sigh, standing to straighten yourself.

“If I know Matt, he's the one causing the trouble.” Jake stands with you, desperate for this moment not to end but anxious for your next answer. “So when can we–”

“Sunday night,” you cut him off, starting to back away toward the stage. “I'll figure out how to slip away, but meet me under the sign at 9.”

You move to rush toward the stage at another outburst, but Jake's hand catches yours yet again.

“You can't keep doing that,” you groan, yet with a smile still on your lips as he tugs you back toward him.

“You're the boss,” he hums, pressing his lips to the back of your hand– the gesture all too routine, but you're ready to admit you've missed it.

He releases your hand and dons his cap, tipping it to you. You laugh again, a rich and easy sound he'd never tire of hearing. You bow slightly and dash backstage, with Jake's voice calling to you as you leave.

“See you Sunday, Songbird."

__________

“¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” - Not getting yourself into any problems, eh?

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" - Seems like you’re the one causing troubles, hey cabbie? Where did that scar come from?

note: in-universe Jake is Guatemalan and Mauricio is Cuban; as a non-spanish speaker, please let me know how i can improve in the future!

A/N: i've missed these two!! this chapter was a doozy but i'm so happy to have gotten back on track. i won't say PPP is on hiatus (we never had a promised release schedule) but after i take a wee break from writing, i'm set on finishing my Moon Knight Bingo prompts before 4/30 + starting on my OI fanzine entries (!!! exciting times). but if inspiration strikes before i finish, i certainly won't complain.

ty for reading!!

tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mercurysjoy, @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #noir!jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x woc!reader #jake lockley x poc!reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley/woc! reader #jake lockley/poc!reader #matt murdock

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stardust-for-your-soul · 2 months

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how beautiful did he look, as he sat amidst the lilies, maidens bedecked in gold bathing him in milk and rose petals as he accepted them graciously. lashes fluttered shut with golden orbs hiding behind serenity bathed eyes, calm despite the repetitive chant of his noble name.

'long live deus auri!'

priests chanted the holy name of the mighty god whose blessing seemed to have livened the nation with plenty joy, smiles rising on the face of every citizen. the city was bathed in lights and lamps bright as every gust of wind sang melody of the ardour.

music and incense had filled every nook and cranny, and travellers had gathered from the corners of the world to behold witness to the occasion; and to have their own hands filled with the generous king's gold—who was as gleeful as a father could be at the occasion of his eldest son's coronation.

he stands once the ceremony is completed, long brown hair open as they fall over his defined shoulders. to call him beautiful would've been both accurate and laughable, for he was more aptly compared with the sun than any petty word that could be used for anything else. the priests gather around him as he bows, a graciously swift movement as they slip the silks on his chest and the gold jewellery fitting of a crowned prince—enhancing his beauty a million times.

and had you blinked for even a moment, you would have missed the way his gaze fluttered ever so softly in your direction, atop the balcony which provided a view to the multitude of princesses who had been invited to the ceremony, as the garland of lotuses was slipped on him—the most silent gesture that very loudly said one thing—he would look forward to the day he can do that to you, and claim you his.

he turns back though, as quickly as he had looked, and then greets all with the most pleasant of smiles. all cheered loudly, but none's heart would've known the turmoil of anticipation that yours did. you understood very well the undertones of this coronation—it was his request from the king, who had been more than happy to oblige, so that he would have the right to ask your hand from your father who would only be willing to hand over his daughter to the noblest of men.

you have to prevent even a slip in gesture or airs to make for the sudden attention that you garner then, and your father smiles in the distance, old eyes gleaming with great understanding of his loveliest daughter's visage.

its a lovely affair then—the crowned prince and you sitting together near the lake of lotuses as he smiles at you with the smallest of desire in his gaze, as though trying not to let his composure slip—

'tell me, lotus-eyed, would your father allow me to take your hand in mine now?'

but your father knows the answer as he listens vaguely from near the rose bushes, even more than both of you who remain oblivious to his watchful gaze as he secretively smiles.

all that awaited now was the marriage ceremony and the rituals that follow with it—the best man wins the hand of his divine daughter. he knows he won't have to be partial, though. quite vain then would be his long wait of four years; looking for the valiant man who could dare to woo his daughter, the lady known for her very beauty and immaculate character in the land of wealth and trade.

he takes no worries when he smiles gleefully though, allowing the love birds to engage in peaceful conversation, fully trusting that his daughter would never do anything to make him bow his head low in shame. his eyes gleam in joy as he internally rejoices.

deus auri is the most competent of all in the seven continents, after all.

header credits: @cafekitsune !

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #zhongli x you #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #rex lapis #zhongli x y/n #genshin impact zhongli #genshin morax #deus auri #genshin drabbles #🎍cherry rambles for: zhongli #🎈cherry's works

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cryoculus · 1 year

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— guard dog 01 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: you’re a skilled mercenary who takes odd jobs all around inazuma to make ends meet. so when the shogunate hires you to assassinate the lady of the kamisato clan, you don’t think much of it. that’s until you grossly miscalculate how good of a guard dog her chief retainer actually is.

word count: 5.5k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: drugging attempts, assassination attempts

notes: i'll be posting chapters one to thirteen everyday at double intervals! this is one of the fics i'm immensely proud of writing, so i hope you like it hehe :')

header art cr: n0yunn on twt

masterlist

You’ve always wondered what the Kamisatos of old had been thinking when they decided to build a mansion by the cliffs of Mount Yougou.

First, you’d either have to make the trek up the mountain or navigate your way through Chinju Forest. The locals of Narukami Island already regarded that place warily—with all the talk about bake-danuki kidnapping lost children in the cover of night, never to be seen again.

And then there was the sudden drop all the way to the rocky shores of the coastline below. One wrong move, and you might just find yourself dead on the beach if you carelessly traipse around the edges of the property.

But you knew, more than most, that the natural terrain wasn’t what made the Kamisato Estate so difficult to breach.

The guards of the Yashiro Commission were stationed uniformly across the area—looking intimidating enough to send any amateur thief packing. One could tell from a glance that these guys had years of training under their belts.

After all, they were guarding one of the three noble households in Inazuma. But it’s not like anyone who knew about Kamisato clan and its retainers was stupid enough to cross them like that.

Unless, of course, they were you.

A flock of birds flew overhead from your vantage point, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. It was nearing sundown again, and the princess should be tending to the sand gardens right about—

“Now,” you whispered, biting down on a lavender melon as you watched the scene unfold.

Normally, scouting your targets from a perch so high up was impossible. But your employers were generous enough to supply you with a pair of binoculars for the job. You were never one to tinker with any Fontainian contraption imported into the country, but if it works, it works.

Now here you were, hidden away in one of the slated slopes of the mountain as Kamisato Ayaka stepped out into the foyer to admire the scenic view.

She strode gracefully into the garden, rake in hand before gazing out into the open sea. The waning sunlight glittered across the surface in warm tones, and you would have been mesmerized too, if the circumstances had been any different.

Still, this was a sight Ayaka saw everyday, and the princess spared no time soaking up the scenery longer than she had to.

This was your seventh day of lying in wait—familiarizing yourself with each person who went in and out of the estate at all hours of the day. Where they went, what they did, who they spoke to.

Well, not really. Even a dedicated mercenary like you had to take some breaks in-between. But one week was enough for you to memorize the daily habits of the Yashiro Commission.

A greenhorn would never have noticed the way they loosened security in the first hour of twilight. Only five guards out of the original ten stationed outside would remain, and the others would be invited to eat dinner inside the pavilion.

After twenty or-so minutes, they would switch with the guards that stayed behind—rinse and repeat.

During this momentary give in their defenses, though, Ayaka would trace circles into the sand garden in quiet meditation.

Vulnerable. Exposed.

If you decided to take her out with a bow and arrow, gravity would favor you in more ways than one. But you were a shit archer at best, and there was…something else that threw a wrench in your plans. A wildcard in your weeklong observation period that you just couldn’t pin down no matter how many alternatives you tried to come up with.

The lavender melon turned bitter in your mouth once you caught sight of him.

Thoma was someone that’s very hard to miss. You’ve seen him a couple of times around Ritou—all golden hair and swindling smiles—but you never once dared to make his acquaintance. Fixers were crafty people by nature, and you’d rather not get outfoxed by someone like him by any means.

In fact, your constant avoidance was finally bearing fruit now that you’ve been entrusted with the assassination of Kamisato Ayaka.

But while everyone else in the Yashiro Commission stuck with their day-to-day routines faithfully, Thoma seemed like he always just acted on a whim. That man had no concept of routine at all.

Unlike Ayaka who committed herself to her own schedule without fail, Thoma was someone who did something different everyday.

In hindsight, it was expected. He was an undercover fixer—of course his daily to-do list wasn’t patterned the same way as everyone else’s.

The other day, Thoma left the estate at the crack of dawn only to come back a few hours after midnight.

Yesterday, he leveled the hedges as he watched Ayaka practice her swordsmanship in the courtyard.

And now, after bidding a few words in farewell to his charge, he was walking out of the estate with a carefree hint to his strides. If you drew any closer, you might even hear him whistling.

Case in point: this wasn’t the first time you were hired to kill a noble. It was, however, the first time you’ve had to deal with a variable that’s as unpredictable as Thoma.

You watched him take the path that led to Chinju Forest through your binoculars—tossing the stem of your lavender melon to the side. He was probably headed to Inazuma City from the looks of it.

Patiently, you waited until Thoma’s form disappeared into the mist before heaving a long sigh in relief.

Now that he was out of the way, you could afford some room to think.

Admittedly, you weren’t sure why the shogunate even contacted someone like you to carry this out. You were nothing but a lone swordswoman who took on odd jobs to make ends meet. Killing other people for money wasn’t exactly above your moral compass, but could your feats be impressive enough for the Tenryou Commission to seek you out personally?

“Kill the girl and make it seem as if the Sangonomiya rebels were behind it,” said Kujou Masahito, the night he and his men found you. “We’ve been in a stalemate long enough.”

It was a tall order, now that you thought about it. What person in their right mind would accept a mission to: one, infiltrate the Kamisato estate; two, murder the lady of the house; and three, frame the resistance for the act? Sure, the Tenryou Commission practically offered you millions of mora in exchange, but was all that really worth risking your neck for?

However, asking questions wasn’t something you did with your clients. Whoever they were, whatever their motives, so long as they came to you, offering the right price, you would see the job done.

Your discretion has always made you quite the favorite in the Inazuman underworld, and you’d prefer if things stayed that way.

Rising from your aching haunches, you shoved the binoculars into a knapsack. You then cast the estate below a sidelong glance. The sun had long set, and a slew of yellow lanterns lit up the courtyard.

You could see Ayaka being escorted back inside the house by one of her attendants, possibly to join her brother for dinner as well. You paid it no mind.

You’ll allow her some last moments of serenity before putting an end to her life.

About two hours before midnight, you descended from your perch—ducking behind trees while skilfully evading the guards’ line of sight. You quietened your footsteps as you approached the building in which the estate’s denizens resided.

There was no need for you to draw this close, as you’ve already gleaned most of what you needed to know from a distance, but…

It was about time for the princess’ nightly routine. An elegant dance performed beneath the moonlight—with her signature fan scattering white snowflakes in the height of summer.

You’ve heard about the Shirasagi Himegimi’s mesmerizing performances in passing. How she was always the star of every cultural festival in Amakame Island.

You were only human, so you were naturally inclined to be curious. And it’s not as if seeing her dance in the moonlit foyer will derail your plans.

But you’d been a few minutes too late, it seemed. Because now, Ayaka was seated by the edge of the pavilion, gazing silently at the clear sky above. In her hands was a teacup patterned with herons in flight—one of her favorite pieces.

To a normal onlooker (A.K.A., anyone who didn’t spend seven days deliberately stalking her), Ayaka didn’t seem the type to drink tea all by herself. She had an entire Commission’s worth of company, and she could always ask one of her retainers to sit down and nurse a few drinks with her.

But you’ve come to realize that the princess was someone who didn’t like disturbing others—regardless of how minimal the disturbance might be.

Kamisato Ayato took charge of the political dabblings of the Yashiro Commission. Kamisato Ayaka was the face of the clan; the heart of the people; adored by each and every person who knew her by name.

But…why did she look so lonely?

“Milady, you shouldn’t be staying up so late.”

The sound of Thoma’s voice made you seize up like a cat tossed into a basin of water—making you reflexively duck behind the rigid walls on the side of the house. There were no lanterns on this side of the estate, so the darkness should be able to conceal you well enough.

“I was waiting for you to return,” Ayaka admitted aloud, the sound of her sandals scraping against the stone-littered path ringing in your ears. “I…I would have had a hard time falling asleep either way—knowing not everyone is safely back in the mansion at this hour.”

You arched an eyebrow but continued listening in.

“Oh?” There’s a hint of amusement in Thoma’s tone. “Even if I specifically informed you earlier that I might not be back until tomorrow noon, you still waited? Milady, you honor me, but I can’t continue imposing such—”

“You’re not imposing,” Ayaka sighed, and it’s the first time you've heard her sound so…exasperated. But then again, Ayaka was only ever this animated in the company of her chief retainer. “As one of the leaders of the Yashiro Commission, it’s my responsibility to ensure the well-being of my retainers.”

“Isn’t it the other way around, though?” Thoma laughed, and you got the impression that you were intruding on something you weren’t supposed to. (A little too late to have those sentiments now, but you still had some integrity, at least.) “Well, I know there’s no changing your mind when it is already set, milady. How about we pair your evening tea with some sakura mochi I brought from the Teahouse?”

A pause. “You’re going to tell me what you were doing in Inazuma City, yes?”

“It would be a disservice not to.”

Knowing you’d already lingered for too long, you fled the scene—silently backing away until you heard a loud crunch echoing into the evening air. You jolted, cursing under your breath when you realized you’d stepped on a damn twig—!

“Thoma? What’s wrong?”

Then, footsteps—accompanied by the sound of the chief retainer’s accessories jingling on his person. You ducked behind an unsuspecting aralia tree, but right in front of you was a sheer drop into the ocean. Archons damn it. You hadn’t realized how close you were to the edge of the cliff.

Instinctively, you pressed your back further against the tree bark, wondering what the hell Thoma was even doing here when he supposedly had business to attend to in the city.

“It’s nothing, milady,” he sighed, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief as you heard his voice draw further away. “Just thought I’d heard something.”

“You must be tired if you’re starting to hear things.”

Not waiting for Thoma to come up with a response, you made your timely escape.

Somewhere down the deeper corners of Chinju Forest was an abandoned shrine. It was on the smaller side—the ornamental roof layered with thick moss, and the talismans having faded with age. You hadn’t the slightest clue which deity it was dedicated to, but it was for that reason that you declared it your designated territory of sorts.

There, you took out a shovel from your knapsack before digging a hole into the ground. It was safer to leave what little belongings you had where no people could even begin to look. And you’d rather not be carrying all your possessions when you’re about to infiltrate a mansion.

Once you’re satisfied with the depth, you began to rummage through the bag. You only took what was strictly needed—a pouch of powdered crystal marrow and a lone dark feather.

Mora and weapons wouldn’t be necessary if you did the job properly, which you will. But before you could turn around to shovel the unearthed soil back in place, you twisted the feather in your fingers.

This was the item that secured your agreement to the Tenryou Commission’s outlandish request. Kujou Sara was known to be a fierce warrior on the battlefield, so if Masahito managed to procure one of her feathers and give it to you, it was the real deal.

The shogunate really was out to tip the scales and launch the country into a civil war.

However, the feather was also a contingency plan of sorts.

“If you foresee yourself being unable to complete the mission, burn it and we’ll send someone to come to your aid,” Masahito informed, and while you were grateful for the possible fallback, you wondered if burning it rendered your reward money null and void. You didn’t ask, nor did he elaborate.

It was normal to have your reservations about this. After all, you could very much go down in the history books as the match that ignited the bloodiest war in Inazuma. But you never really cared much for appearances. Not now, not ever.

Once you accept a job, you’ll see it through until the end.

“H-Help, please… Help.”

The guards were quick to act once you emerged from the forest the following day—bloody and beaten and quivering in your boots. One of them managed to catch you before you could fully collapse to the ground, and he immediately barked orders to prepare a room and call a healer.

Faking your identity to mislead victims was a trick you picked up from an old acquaintance. The acting that went into the entire charade was as troublesome as it sounded, but you weren’t exactly given many cards to play here.

Hell, even the method you’d decided to assassinate Ayaka with was far from your usual. But you didn’t build a reputation for yourself by cutting corners and half-assing your jobs, that’s for sure.

Of all the members of the Tri-Commission, the Yashiro Commission was the most impartial. They had the hearts of the people of Inazuma, and the Kamisato clan collectively cared for them in return.

Whether you’re a rebel or a shogunate officer, if you turned up half-dead on their doorstep, it was ingrained in their principles to take you in. That kindness, however, was a double-edged sword.

They’d just invited a murderer into the heart of their stronghold.

However, their retainers weren’t complete idiots. Before rushing you into a room to get your injuries tended to, a due interrogation was conducted. (Who are you? Where did you come from? What happened?)

All their questions, you answered with a somewhat convincing act—you’re woozy from the “blood loss”, unable to respond coherently, drifting in and out of consciousness. But they could glean from your tattered maroon disguise uniform that you were part of the resistance.

“She probably tried to infiltrate the Kujou Encampment,” suggested one of the female attendants. “Both sides are growing more and more desperate each day… Should we inform Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato?”

The proposal was met with a grunt from a man you recognized as Madarame Hyakubei. “Lord Ayato requested for us not to disturb him today, and Lady Ayaka is resting for the afternoon. Granted, Master Thoma didn’t say when he’ll return either so I suggest we keep this under wraps for now.”

Keep this under wraps. Yeah, that definitely worked in your favor.

With a silent, unanimous agreement, the rest of the guards left you in the hands of their resident healer—a meek woman who introduced herself as Hina.

You knew better than to respond to any of her inquiries, so you continued masquerading your own deliriousness as she patched up your self-inflicted wounds. Hina didn’t linger longer than she had to, and once you stopped fake-moaning in pain, she eventually got up and resumed whatever task your arrival had rudely interrupted.

There were still some curious attendants sneaking glances into the room they’d put you in, though—whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Thankfully, those gossiping girls went about their own business sometime later, and you’re left completely alone.

You couldn’t really do much in your current state. The people around the mansion were led to believe that you’ve been gravely injured. It would definitely raise suspicions if anyone saw you tiptoeing around the house, so you bide your time.

You’ve waited an entire week to put your plans into motion, what’s a few hours more?

When night fell, you expected one of the attendants to bring you dinner—if the Yashiro Commission’s extensive hospitality was anything to go by.

The anticipation might have also been fueled by the fact that it’s been days since you’ve eaten a proper meal. Whenever the guards outside ate altogether in the pavilion, the food prepared for them looked so appetizing. You couldn’t really blame yourself for pondering what they’ll serve you.

But the person who emerged into the room a few minutes later was the last one you’d expected to come.

“L-Lady Kamisato,” you stammered, sitting upright to bow your head. “It’s an honor. Please don’t trouble yourself with this…”

Ayaka flashed you a gentle smile, kneeling on the tatami to set the tray of food on your bedside. “It’s only proper that I see our guest with a warm welcome. You must be feeling better now that you can speak to me. My retainers said you were practically unintelligible earlier.”

Fuck. You broke character.

Swallowing thickly, you managed a dry laugh. “Your healer was amazing, miss. I didn’t think I would make it through the day, actually…”

She nodded in understanding, a grim look suddenly crossing her pristine features. “I see. You’re one of the Sangonomiya rebels, aren’t you? May I ask what you’re doing all the way here on Narukami Island?”

You purposely let your shoulders sag in a false show of emotion. “I…was sent for an espionage mission, but I got hunted down by the shogun’s lap dogs. Thanks to you, though, I’m still in one piece.”

“I had no part in your recovery. It’s all the work of my retainers,” Ayaka clarified with that same, unwavering smile. She gestured for you to take the food she’d brought. “Go on. I’m sure you’re hungry, so you better eat something.”

You were gladly about to indulge in her offer before—

“Milaaaady,” drawled an obnoxiously loud voice coming from the halls. And when a head of golden hair poked itself into the room, you felt your appetite vanishing in a puff of smoke. “Why’d you leave me in the kitchen? I can’t look after you if you’re going around without me, you know?”

There he was—the wild card that constantly threw your plans into disarray.

“Thoma, don’t be too loud. She’s still resting,” Ayaka chided as he knelt beside her on your bedside. “This is Thoma, the chief retainer of the Kamisato clan. He normally isn’t this noisy, so I hope you forgive him.”

No introduction needed, thank you very much, you wanted to say, but kept your mouth rightfully shut. Instead, you met Thoma’s green-eyed gaze as you tilted your head in a curt bow. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” he chuckled before folding his arms together. “I believe I haven’t caught your name yet…”

A name. Right. You had to give them a name—not your real name, of course. You weren’t that overconfident.

“Kira,” you spoke softly. “My name is Kira.”

“I see. So, Miss Kira…you’re from the resistance, huh? What’s the status over there in Watatsumi Island?”

Again, you assumed your role as a fugitive rebel with sigh. “Not too good. They’ve pushed us back so far that we had to resort to underhanded tactics.”

Thoma raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

Immediately remembering the suggestion of one of the attendants earlier, you decided to use that as a reference. “Infiltrating the Kujou Encampment to gain some intel. Though, I hardly got that done at all since…” Then, a wordless gesture towards the bandages wrapped around your body.

Ayaka flashed you a pitiful expression while Thoma hummed to himself. Did you really sound that convincing? Nonetheless, the chief retainer spoke again. “A wise man once told me that the best way out of a predicament is through. Why don’t you guys just march straight into Inazuma City and take it up to the Raiden Shogun herself?”

“Why don’t we step out and allow our guest to have some peace tonight?” Ayaka intervened, rising to her feet while tugging on Thoma’s sleeve in the process as she turned to you. “He asks too many questions sometimes. Again, please forgive him.”

You shook your head. “I’m already taking up much of your time as is. The one seeking penance should be me, milady.”

The princess shook her head once more as they made their way out of the room. “We hope for nothing but utmost health for you, Miss Kira. Please don’t hesitate to call for us if you need anything. We can discuss your situation further in the morning.”

When the door slid shut behind them, you could still vaguely make out some fragments of conversation. Ayaka was saying something along the lines of, “You should really be more polite to our guests,” and Thoma only responded with a peal of laughter.

Then, your eyes flickered towards your dinner—braised salted fish with pickled seaweed on the side.

“All these formalities for a complete stranger?” you muttered, pulling apart the chopsticks they’d provided as you shook your head. “Bunch of fools...”

Once you’ve had your fill, you tossed the blankets aside and stretched your limbs. Acting bedridden could easily make you feel the part, and you had to keep your blood pumping for what you were about to do.

For some reason, Hina and the guards didn’t bother inspecting you or your clothes, which proved to be quite the advantage.

Walking over to where they’d set down your boots, you turned the left boot upside down—shaking it rigidly until a satin pouch and a dark feather fell to the floor.

The pouch that contained the poison you were to use weighed almost nothing in your palm, and it was for that reason you chose it.

Powdered crystal marrow was so easy to conceal that slipping it into the princess’ evening tea was mere child’s play. You then shoved Kujou Sara’s feather in one of your pockets, praying you didn’t have to use it at all.

When the door to the room slid open again, you were completely prepared. This time, it wasn’t Kamisato Ayaka nor Thoma who went in to collect the tray.

It was one of the attendants that had been gossiping outside while the healer was tending to your injuries.

She paused by the entrance when she noticed you weren’t in your futon, and it was at that moment that you pounced—muffling her nose with a cloth laced with poison. Not enough to kill her, but certainly enough to knock her out.

Knowing that you’re quickly running out of time, you disrobed the attendant and replaced your disguise with her clothes swiftly.

The sleeves billowed just right around your arms, and the obi wasn’t too difficult to tie. And since you felt slightly bad for having to drag her into this, you covered the attendant’s bare body with the thin blanket of your futon.

With the tray that Ayaka had dropped off in hand, you closed the door to your room—eyes darting around for anyone who could have gotten wind of what just happened.

Fortunately, there weren’t many people milling inside the mansion. Just a couple of attendants dusting furniture and scrubbing the tatami.

None of them spared you so much as a backwards glance. But, knowing you couldn’t exactly disguise your face, you made yourself scarce—heading to a hall that you had a hunch led to the kitchen.

Based on the brief glimpses you’d seen prior to your relocation to the room, your guess should be right, and the attendant you’d just taken out was about to bring Ayaka her evening tea. You didn’t perform a weeklong stake-out for your calculations to be incorrect.

With each step you took across the hall, your heart pounded dreadfully. This was it. You were almost there. If you managed to pull this off, your mantle as Inazuma’s most cunning assassin would be set in stone. Your services would be sought after, and you’d be raking in millions from each job.

(And then Inazuma would be plunged into chaos. The fall of the Kamisato clan’s eldest daughter undoubtedly offsetting the peace that the people of Narukami tried so hard to maintain. The Electro Archon would no longer have any reason to hold back. But would the Raiden Shogun lash out on the very people whom she promised a never-ending eternity?

Would someone like you even be spared from her wrath?)

Your predictions have been correct. You were headed the right way. The kitchen was at the far end of this hall, and none of the other attendants were present.

Instead, the one that greeted you was the chief retainer in all his smug glory—instantly ripping you away from your musings of the future, and back to the dreadful present.

Thoma stood in front of the counter, a fresh tea set patterned with Ayaka’s favorite herons painted elegantly on each ceramic piece. Behind him, a kettle sat on top of the stove—the low flame illuminating the room just a tad brighter.

He didn’t seem surprised to see you, nor did he have any outward reaction to the fact that you’re wearing an attendant’s uniform. Instead, he leaned across the wooden surface, sighing.

“Well that’s just disappointing,” he lamented. “I really rooted for you, you know. Hope you’d give it up and leave once you’ve gotten a taste of milady’s kindness.”

You kept your lips sealed, straightening yourself as you sauntered over to the sink. Your movements were quiet as you set down the bowl and chopsticks they’d given, and Thoma watched your every move.

You had absolutely no clue how he’d managed to sniff you out as quickly as he did, but if he wasn’t pinning you to the floor and tying you up yet, then you still had some leeway for escape.

“I’ve already expected your arrival, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Thoma supplied. “You’re good at not leaving any tracks, but you aren’t exactly keen on concealing your presence. It’s almost like you wanted me to know what you were up to.”

Despite his friendly tone, you kept your silence—gaze roving around the kitchen for any clean-cut exits, only to realize there were none.

You half-contemplated using the rest of your powdered crystal marrow to incapacitate him and make your escape. Though you’re yet to witness it firsthand, Thoma would definitely be worth something in a fight if he was the Kamisatos’ chief retainer.

The injuries you’d sustained from throwing it down with a bunch of mitachurls to look convincingly mangled weren’t all fake. If you were backed into a corner now, you’ll definitely lose.

But you reminded yourself that every dose you got your hands on was few and far in between. You didn’t want to risk your future kills for a momentary lapse in judgement.

So, like any cornered animal, you did what was logical at that moment.

You ran for your life.

Or, at least tried to.

Before you could even step out of the kitchen, Thoma was already on you—seizing both of your wrists and twisting them behind your back. Your jaw throbbed as he slammed your face against the wall, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t break free from his grip.

“Get your hands off me, guard dog,” you hissed, desperately trying to kick him in the groin as a last resort.

Thoma let out another stupidly carefree laugh as he evaded your attempts at his family jewels. “Guard dog? That’s a new one. And you say it like it’s an insult.”

“Fuck you!”

“Now, now. That’s not a very kind thing to say.” He pouted. “And milady was so insistent for me to be polite. Not so deserving now, are you?”

Irritated, you considered spitting in his face, but remembered you had more tact than that. “So? Just kill me then. You already predicted I’d try to kill her, didn’t you?”

The moment you’d articulated the words, it struck you that Thoma was acting awfully calm about your blatant revelation. If it had been one of the other retainers, they’d probably be fuming at the knowledge.

Maybe they would’ve called the police by now. Worse, they’d have you executed on the spot.

But this man didn’t look like a fiercely loyal retainer who prioritized the well-being of his charge above all else. As you struggled to get a look at him from the impossible position he’d pinned you with, Thoma flashed you a conspiratorial grin that gave you the creeps.

“Killing you would be too easy, don’t you think?” the chief retainer sighed. “And besides, milady seems to have taken a liking to you. She’s never met a member of the resistance before. She even wondered over dinner if you two could be friends.”

You clicked your tongue. “I thought you already knew that I wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes. I knew you were a fraud the moment you answered my questions earlier,” Thoma interjected with a chuckle. “No bona fide member of the resistance would give away sensitive information like that so freely. They’d rather kill themselves first before revealing the strategies of Her Excellency, Sangonomiya.”

Oh. So that’s how he figured out.

“Okay, so my acting could be a bit better,” you began snarkily. “But what does it matter now? You caught me. The Almighty chief retainer of the Kamisato household has caught another mouse in the trap. Now could you please just get to the part where you lead me down to the gallows to commit seppuku?”

You were stalling. No one with a survival instinct as desperate as yours would easily resign themselves to a soundless execution.

In reality, you were wiggling an arm out of his grasp in an attempt to reach for the feather tucked in the folds of your stolen obi. Thoma held you conveniently close to the stove, and if you could just toss it into the low flame—

“Hm? But what if it isn’t my intention to have you killed at all?”

That made you pause.

As if to prove a point, Thoma unhanded you and put his palms up in faux-surrender. You scoffed as you rubbed your face.

“Look, I knew you’ve been scouting the area for days now, and you basically just admitted to your own intentions on milady’s life,” he elaborated. “I also knew that this place is too tightly guarded for you to execute your plans as smoothly as you liked. So you had to carry out your mission in the most roundabout way possible.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, of course,” you spat sarcastically. “If you’re so smart and all-knowing, just cut to the damn chase.”

Thoma let out another laugh, and you were so close to sacrificing your last stash of powdered crystal marrow just to see him drop dead.

“The point is, even if I know all these things…milady doesn’t.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Sighing, Thoma leaned against the counter with another disdainful sigh. “I’m offering you an alternative, Miss Kira. Heh. Even the name you picked was a dead giveaway. Seriously? A name that means kill?”

You clicked your tongue. “What alternative are we speaking of again?”

This time, the chief retainer flashed you a look that made you feel like he was mocking you.

“I’ll forget all the information you just revealed to me tonight. I’ll pretend as if our…altercation never happened.” He listed each condition on his fingers before pointing at your stolen garbs. “And I’ll even deal with the poor attendant whose clothes you nabbed. I’m sure I can bribe her into keeping her silence.”

Not liking how good the odds were for you if Thoma simply feigned ignorance like that, you asked, “What do you want in return?”

What came out of his mouth in the next moment, however, was probably the most ridiculous job you’d ever been saddled with in your life. It put Kujou Masanori’s orders to utter, absolute shame.

“Well, it’s very simple, actually.” Thoma grinned. “I want you to be…milady’s friend.”

next ->

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin fanfiction #thoma fanfic #thoma smut #genshin x reader #thoma x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin thoma #cryoculus #guard dog

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mamachasesmayhem · 10 months

Text

Heavy is the Head • Bandaids Don’t Fix Shrapnel Holes

Master | Previous | Next

Pairing: Jake Seresin × OC Magnolia Monroe

Series Warnings: dystopian society, toxic family dynamics, political corruption, smut, violence, war scenes, single parenthood, BRIEF mention but no description of SA (happens in this chapter, see A/N for details), plus probably more! (As always, let me know if I miss anything down the line)

A/N! First, the opening scene just HAD to be what it is solely so I could use the gifs as headers 😂. Second, the brief mention of the SA happens in this chapter. I’ll put it in italics and a different color, so you can skip over it if it’s a trigger. While it’s super minor and there’s no details, I don’t want to cause any discomfort. The new character introduced in the chapter will have a little moodboard at the end as well. As always, thank you so much for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging. Love y’all 💕

Jake

"C'mon, Seresin. You're already stupid ripped, I don't know why you have to spend all your free time making the rest of us look bad while we're out here." Javy whined from his spot on the couch as Jake busted out deadlifts like nobody's business.

"Seriously dude, this is called the REC ROOM, not the gym," Natasha echoes from where she's tucked under Javy's arm.

Jake grunts as he finishes his last rep, settling the weights back on the floor. "Well, seeing as how I'm not interested in fucking my partner like you, no offense Jordan- I'm sure you'd be my type if I swung the other way," he chuckles as Jordan flips him the bird without looking up from his book. "I gotta work to keep this fine machine perfectly in tune."

A chorus of boos fills the room and Nat throws her water bottle at him. "And you wonder why you're single, Seresin? Gross," she sticks out her tongue when he looks her way.

"Give him a break, guys," Jordan chimes in this time. "Only a mother can love his ugly mug so he's gotta act like a peacock and flex his muscles for attention."

"That's not what your mom said last night!" Jake shoots back and laughter erupts from each person in the room.

Reuben walks through the door with a stern look in his face, making the easygoing camaraderie die down instantly.

"Alright, lady, gents, and Bradshaw. We got new intel. There's been an insurgent cell sighting just east of San Antonio and we've been activated to eliminate it. Standard protocol, same as every other one we've run so far. But, the upside is Floyd got us some new party favors for the ride. Bob, share your toys with the class."

Bob steps up next to Reuben and is clearly excited to show off the new tech.

"Alright, new carbon fiber helmets. Lighter weight but more protective, you're welcome. I'm really excited about this one," he says, holding up a bullet.

"Looks like a regular hollow point, Floyd. What's new?" Jake asks.

"Well, bossman, I'm glad you asked! Where your typical hollow point provides maximum carnage, this one acts more like a shotgun shell and implants tiny trackers on impact. The hope is that any target we don't errrr...eliminate will be embedded with a tracker and lead us to the base of the cell," he explains with a small smile, clearly showing just how proud he is.

"Atta boy, Bob. Any new upgrades to the big toys?" Bradshaw asks from the corner.

"As if I wouldn't upgrade your planes and helos?" Bob scoffs in response. "Obviously. I've enhanced the heat seeking targeting systems onboard, not only will the heavy hitters seek them out, guns will too."

"Fuck yeah!" Bradley cheers, pumping his fist in the air.

"Jordan, I've upgraded your remote detonators to give you a longer distance before they blow. I've also programmed your watch to be a remote, no more carrying around the clumsy ass walking talkie looking shit."

"Baby on board, you are the goddamn man." Jordan claps his shoulder as he walks past him to stand next to Jake, who is now looking over maps of the area with Nat.

Bob goes to sit next to Mickey, explaining the upgrades to the medical equipment he's adding to the kit. While everyone is more than thankful for Mickey's contributions to the squadron, they're all easily lost when words like tourniquet, quick clot, and needle gauges are mentioned and tune out.

"Trace, what's your read on approach angle? Wheels or wings this time around?" Jake asks the woman to his right, who he ironically considers his right hand woman.

He's entirely certain they'd already be dead without her, she's tactically brilliant and can figure out the best strategy quicker than the rest of us can blink. Jake will also be the first person to tell you that she's the reason they each finished hell week with record breaking scores. When he was approached with the idea of leading an elite team, she was second on his list, just barely behind Javy. Jake greatly values Nat's opinion on everything and almost never makes a decision that would affect the whole squad without her input.

"Daggers, we roll out at 2200 tomorrow night. We're gonna take advantage of the darkness and run this op at night. Nat suggested the helo for this run, dropping us 2 klicks out from the target. We'll approach from the west and push a diamond point formation, essentially flushing them out and into our sights." Jake dives into the strategy for the night, making sure everyone is clear on their roles and duties for the following night. "Whatever steam you need to blow off, get it out of your system tonight. Make your phone calls, throw back a few shots, whatever you need to do. I want clear minds and sharp eyes and expect nothing less than the best from you all. You're dismissed, I'll see y'all at roll call tomorrow at 1300."

Jake knew that Nat and Javy would be holed up in their bunk for the rest of the night. That Bradley and Jordan would bring a bottle of tequila and try their luck with a couple of the hot nurses they'd been incessantly flirting with the whole time they've been there. That Reuben would triple check his intel, that Mickey would spend most of the night on a video call with his wife. Jake would meticulously check over the helo he and Javy would alternate flying tomorrow, make sure everyone's gear was in tip top shape, and then he would call his older sister, Lucy. He needed the time to separate himself from the bond he'd formed with his squadron, stepping back from the familial relationship and slipping into his role as commander. He had complete confidence in his team, they were the best of the best; an elite team for a reason. But the separation was needed for him to trust his gut and not his heart, and it's paid off so far.

With the first half of his checklist done a few hours later, Jake heads to his own bunk to call his sister. He was correct in all of his earlier assumptions and chuckled to himself as he passed the rec room. Bradley, Jordan, more soldiers from another squadron, and a handful of nurses filled the room and giggles and music flowed into the hallway. Before Jake was slotted into the commander role, he was in there with them. But now, he prefers the solitude and comfort of talking to his big sister.

Freshly showered and mentally drained, he climbs into his bunk and dials Lucy. She picks up on the third ring, voice as chipper as always when she answers.

"Well hello, baby brother. You're up late. Let me guess, got an op tomorrow?" She questions, voice full of genuine concern.

"Aw fuck, am I that predictable already? I'm not even 30 yet and I have an old man routine, Lou?" He groans, causing his sister to chuckle.

"Sorry, kiddo. But, I happen to know you only call this late because you want help setting your mind at ease, and I happen to be the best at doing it. Relax, JJ. We both know you have the best squadron. Shit, I'd be willing to bet the best in the entire world, if I'm being honest. Especially with a leader like you."

Her confidence in him warms his heart, the fact that she means it makes it all the better. He smiles and shakes his head before moving on. "Enough about me, Luce. What's new back home?"

Lucy groans. She's never been a fan of living the socialite life that comes with being the daughter of the president. If she had it her way, she'd have her own little firm in a big city where she could help as many people as possible. She'd most likely run it with her fiancé, who is a surprisingly good man who comes from a Regent family. Jake and Lucy are both convinced that he's a unicorn, the only other good one in their parents' small circle.

"Well, mom's all up in arms that you're not gonna be home for your dirty thirty so she can throw a stupidly expensive party where she and all her friends can drool over your squadron." Lucy gags dramatically before continuing. "Dad's been...well, dad. He's been more on edge than usual lately, I think the new cells popping up have been getting to him more than he lets on. Because, clearly, people not blindly following him is a direct shot at his ego, but whatever. Mom's also basically running a pageant for the most eligible bachelorette to set you up with. I'm trying my best to stall, I promise. But I can only do so much with you getting close to being of age and not ever having a serious girlfriend and all..."

Jake sighs and he knows his frustration is palpable through the phone. "It's not your responsibility to take care of me, Luce. No matter how much I appreciate it. Besides, when would I even have time to find a girlfriend with how much I spend deployed? Mom would have a stroke before she agreed to me marrying a military woman."

The siblings both laugh at the thought and carry on for a little while longer. Jake is ready to let the exhaustion takeover and bids his sister goodnight.

"Night, bubs. I love you. Clear mind and sharp eyes, yeah?" She asks before they hang up, another part of the tradition they've upheld during every deployment.

"Love you, Luce. Tell Nate hey for me. I'll call when we're back tomorrow!" He promises, then rolls over and falls asleep almost immediately.

2100 hours, the following day

The FOB is buzzing with activity in the way it only does before a big op. Jake's energy level is damn near the same, anticipation pulsing through his body. He's completed all his final checks, as has the rest of the squadron, and they're loading their gear on the helos. Jake will pilot Dagger one, which will be carrying Jordan, Reuben, and Bob with him while Javy will be in charge of transporting Nat, Mickey, and Bradley. After Nat and Javy started hooking up, Jake had briefly considered having the two in different transports to keep their heads level. He quickly learned that was a mistake, but not because they were distracted with worrying about the other. They simply made each other better, and separating them was immediately thrown out the window. Within the hour, the squadron is wheels up and on their way to the target.

"How's everything looking Fitch? Any movement?" Jake asks, his voice filling their radio channel.

"All clear boss, recommend proceeding as planned," Reuben replies.

"Roger that. You copy, Dagger Two?" Jake waits for his wingman's response.

"10-4, Dagger One. Continuing to target, Seresin." Javy's voice is smooth and steady even from another aircraft.

Dust is kicked up as the squadron lands in an abandoned strip mall parking lot on the outskirts of the old city the insurgents are said to be occupying. The engines have died down and the rotors of the helicopters have slowed to a stop as the group steps out onto the concrete now overrun with grass. Jake runs the plan back once more before they move out, Reuben staying behind to keep an eye out for movement and the choppers out of unwanted hands. With comms secure, they begin the trek into the eerily silent base.

"Are you seeing any movement, Fitch?" Jake asks into his earpiece, seeing no signs of any kind of recent movement.

"Negative, Dagger One. It's quiet on my end." Reuben sounds just as confused as Jake feels.

Jake swears under his breath. They either got bad intel, or they're about to walk into a trap. His head turns towards Javy then he throws a fist in the air, signaling the squadron to pause. The hair stands up on the back of his neck, and he immediately knows something is up. "Guys, I have a bad feeling-"

Before he can finish his sentence, an explosion goes off less than a hundred feet to the left, and it knocks everyone on their asses. They regroup and push towards cover inside a dilapidated storefront. Gunfire is exchanged between the Daggers and the insurgents, and before he knows it, Jake is being blown through a window after another explosion. Chaos ensues. Mickey is pulling Jake behind a wall, Bradley and Bob are laying down heavy fire, Javy is calling in backup, and Jordan is running off to place enough C4 to cover their asses and then some. Everything is a red tinged blur for the commander, he's rapidly bleeding and Mickey is doing his best to stop it. He's not sure how much time passes before he hears the telltale whir of rotor blades, but he breathes a tiny sigh of relief knowing Reuben is inbound. Until he hears Natasha screaming.

"Jordan! Wait, no! Stop! The tech is malf-"

Another explosion detonates.

Then everything goes silent.

Magnolia

My head is pounding when my alarm sounds, waking me for my shift. Jesus, how much did I actually drink last night for me to sleep over 18 hours? I move to roll over, and that's when I notice I'm naked under my sheets. What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don't know why I'm naked and it's making me panic. I was never gonna be that girl, the nurse who hands it over to any attractive soldier looking to get their dick wet. Not after I watched my mom put out for any man who looked her way who was also willing to pay an occasional bill. God, I don't have even a sliver of an idea of who it could be. None of the guys drinking with Serena and I last night were at the level I'd consider throwing it all away for. Sure, they were hot. But none of them were charming enough for me to throw caution and my panties to the wind on a normal day. Maybe I puked on myself or something and passed out before I could get dressed. I don't have time to think about it further, because emergency alarms start blaring on my phone.

Fuck. It's a full trauma activation.

It's definitely bad, because this is a first. Somebody that went on the op is definitely in critical condition, and it's time for me to step up.

Given that my mom was a horrible role model, I wanted a steady career path to support myself down the road. I never wanted to be in a situation where I had to depend on a man. So, when it was time for me to enlist in mandatory service, I happily selected the nursing path. Upon completion of the program, I was immediately shipped to the frontlines and I've loved every second of it. I never would have thought I would be an adrenaline junkie, chasing the high that comes with keeping people alive.

My fight or flight instincts hit me and I jump up to pull on my scrubs, socks, and shoes before throwing my hair up in a top knot. I grab my keys and badge reel that are hanging by the door on my way out and book it to the med bay. Dr. Waldron, Serena, and the rest of the trauma team are rapidly donning PPE when I slide in the room to do the same.

"What do we got, boss?" I ask Dr. Waldron as the nitrile glove snaps against my wrist.

"Dagger Squadron ran an op tonight and it went sideways real quick. Lieutenant Fitch called ahead and said most of the squadron have minor injuries, lumps, bumps, and lacs. Commander Seresin was hit hard and seems to be in critical condition, so he'll be our main focus. One of the guys is said to be either MIA or DRT, a bomb went off near him and he hasn't been recovered at this point, though I'm not sure who it is at the moment." Dr. Waldron explains somberly.

My stomach drops to my toes at his words. I know for a fact I'd spent time with Bradley and Jordan last night, that part of my memory is clear. It's a tradition we've had whenever they're deployed out here; we have a little shebang the night before they ship out for an op, the boys flirt relentlessly, and we playfully let them down easy every time. It hurts my heart to think that one of those two could be hurt. And Commander Seresin? He's a brilliant leader who is also kind and respectful and that's ridiculously rare. I know I'll fight tooth and nail to get him through it, he's gonna come out on the flip side of this like nothing happened if I get my way. And I always get my way.

I'm broken from my mental trip down the rabbit hole when the sounds of helicopter blades cutting through the air hit my ears. I shut everything out, slipping into trauma mode, ready to get to work. Dr. Waldron and I run a stretcher to the helicopter and work with Mickey and Lt. Fitch to transfer him from the floor of the helo to the gurney.

"He's got multiple deep tissue lacs from what I can see. I wouldn't be surprised to find internal bleeding on top of all this external bleeding. BP has been slowly declining, but not rapidly which gives me hope. Pulse is weak but steady, Floyd's upgrades probably saved his life. My main concern is the shrapnel on the left side of his chest. I'm fairly certain it punctured a lung so I haven't touched it." Mickey explains as we start rolling towards the med bay and I climb up on the gurney to hold pressure or start chest compressions if needed.

A groan rumbles under my palm and my eyes dart down to him. His eyes flutter open as his breathing gets a little shallow.

"Alright, big guy. You're doing great, keep those eyes open, yeah? Just keep breathing- ah, ah! Eyes on me, pretty boy! There we go, you're gonna feel some pressure, gotta stop the bleeding." I demand, keeping him conscious until we can sedate him and do an ex lap in the OR.

"Are ya an angel?" He mumbles and it makes me smile. "You're pretty. M'definitely dead." His words are slurred and I chuckle.

"Nah, just a nurse. But you're in good hands, handsome. I got ya," I coo.

Several hours later, Commander Seresin is out of the woods and stable enough to be transported to a bigger hospital closer to home where he'll receive the level of care he needs to make a full recovery. I strip off my blood soaked scrubs, toss them in the bio bin, and change into the oversized tshirt and leggings I keep in my locker for days like today. After stumbling my way through a shower, I crash down on my bed and sleep for 10 hours straight, all thoughts of the previous night long forgotten.

6 weeks later

News had trickled back that Commander Seresin made a full recovery and was cruising his way back to normal. I did find out that he lost one of his closest friends in the ambush, Lt. Jordan Shaw was collateral damage and killed in action due to a malfunction of his detonator. The explosion was so severe, they barely recovered enough from the wreckage to positively ID he was the victim. The Dagger squad took the hit hard, and Bob Floyd carried the most regret, given that the new tech he provided caused the fatal malfunction.

Magnolia continued on with her duties as usual, the events of the night before the mission long forgotten in wake of the traumatic night that followed. That was, until, she'd been vomiting around the clock with no end in sight after a week. She had Dr. Waldron run some bloodwork to see if she had caught a virus or bacterial infection, which wasn't uncommon while on the front lines. She was in for the shock of a lifetime when her labs did come back abnormal. However, it wasn't the virus she had expected. She was pregnant. The conception date matched the day of the mission, and Magnolia was now certain something had happened that night. She had reached out to everyone she could think of that night, and not a soul had any idea who could be the baby's father.

As per regulation, Magnolia was shipped back home and away from the frontlines. She was sad at first, having grown to love the constant possibility of action that came with being in the field. She quickly changed her tune when she realized it was best for both her and the baby. Magnolia had never fully allowed herself to imagine being a mother, her genuine distrust of men held her back from wanting anything long term while she was still on active duty. She'd thought she had time to think about it when she completed her requirement. She wasn't against having a family, but it wasn't in her ten year plan, that's for sure. As her belly grew, she had as well in her new role of trauma coordinator in her local ER. She was still in on all the action, but not elbow deep like she used to be unless the situation was dire.

On a sunny March afternoon, Magnolia started having severe back pain while she was at work. A quick waddle up to labor and delivery showed that she was having rapidly accelerating contractions, and that her baby would be entering the world soon. Six hours later, Arden Grace Monroe came screaming into the world and Magnolia couldn't imagine a love stronger than what she felt when her eyes first landed on her daughter. From then forward, March 7th would always be remembered as the day Magnolia's heart no longer lived inside her chest, as it's now settled in the palm of Arden's tiny hand.

1.5 years later

Jake

"Alright, big guy. You're doing great, keep those eyes open, yeah? Just keep breathing- ah, ah! Eyes on me, pretty boy! There we go, you're gonna feel some pressure, gotta stop the bleeding."

I swear I'm looking at a real life angel, I'm actually dead and didn't make it out of the bloodbath in the middle of what I've been told is my home state. The light bounces off of her dark hair just right, making it look like a halo behind her head. Her voice is soothing, the one string keeping me tied to earth. I'll keep breathing even though it hurts like fuck all if it means I get to hear her voice some more.

I'm yanked from my recurring dream when something soft lands against my back.

"Up and at 'em golden boy! Your presence with the best sister in the world is required so we can head to the hospital. They're dedicating the new trauma wing with your name on it!" Lucy chirps, jumping on the bed until I get up.

"Jesus, aren't you supposed to be decrepit in your old age at this point?" I groan, sticking my arm out and sweeping until I make contact with her feet and knocking her on her back.

She huffs from where she's flopped against my bed and sticks her tongue out at me. "I'm a spring chicken, thank you very much! Anyway, I'm off to be Regency Standard beautified, you should probably do the same. You're getting wrinkles, JJ."

With a giggle, she's skipping out of the door and manages to dodge the pillow I chuck at her head. She's not wrong, though. I'm not exactly up to mom and dad's par when it comes to my appearance. I've let my scruff grow out a little bit and my hair's on the floppy side. I can hear my mother now, "That just won't do, Jacob. A sharply shaven face and tidy hair will attract a wife, not this...street rat thing you've got going now. Our appearance is everything."

Barf.

35 is creeping closer and closer, and the First Couple are so far up my ass about getting married, that I'm sure they can see what I ate for dinner last night. Whatever. I plan on making changes when I take over, I just have to bide my time. I speed through what the squadron has dubbed my "good boy routine" while I let my thoughts drift back to my dream.

To this day, I'm still not sure whether or not I imagined her. By the time I was cleared to go back to the frontline, she was long gone and the staff there had no idea who she was. It's not like combat medicine has the best record for charting during procedures, that's definitely the last thing on their minds and I'm grateful for it. I just wish I could put a name to a face and say thank you. After a year of digging, I eventually gave up the search and settled on the thought she was a guardian angel; real or not.

Dressed to the nines, Lucy and I slip into the back of the car for the ride to the hospital. We sit picture perfectly through the ceremony, sneakily thumb wrestling as we always have through the speeches from those with overinflated egos and self worth. I dutifully smile as I cut the ribbon to officially open the Jacob Grant Seresin Jr. Trauma Wing and count the seconds until I can get back to my "normal" life. Once I get the chance, I slip away in search of the cafeteria. Sure, cafeteria food is notoriously terrible. But I didn't have time for breakfast and am about to eat my own arm if I don't get at least a snack. I'm so caught up thinking about a big ass burrito from the food truck down the street from the base that I run smack into someone else when I turn the corner. My hands reach out to steady the poor person I bowled over when a small voice squeaks out beneath me.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!"

My gaze snaps down immediately. I know that voice.

My breath stalls in my chest when I confirm the face matches the voice that's lived in my subconscious for years now.

Words finally travel from my brain to my lips and I stutter out a low, "It's you."

Say hello to sweet baby Arden!

@hangmansgbaby @desert-fern @kmc1989 @aviatorobsessed @jynxmirage @beccaanne814 @writercole @thedroneranger @trickphotography2 @callsign-magnolia @fav-fanficssss @whatislovevavy @dempy @daggersquadphantom @hisredheadedgoddess28 @roosterforme @memeorydotcom @bethbunnyy @marvelousnightjengale @hangmanshoney

#squirrel squad #controlled chaos squad #mama mayhem writes #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #dagger au #magnolia monroe #heavy is the head #natasha trace #javy machado #reuben fitch #mickey garcia #bob floyd #jordan shaw #bradley bradshaw

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2ndprinceofdarkness · 16 days

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"It was a nice day..."

(New Header art for Genesis!! Click for quality--plz I swear)

(Psst--If you haven't heard, I've finished the main plot for Light-Bringer, and now I've begun the rewrites/adding art!!)

Read Light-Bringer on Wattpad: 🤩

Slay <3

Follow Ao3? I just made it and posted Light-bringer lmao ah

Thank you for reading this advertisement, back to your irregularly scheduled programming:

Light-Bringer-- Act One, Scene I: "Genesis"

[LILITH and ADAM, and their respective partners to come, are separated within the Garden of Eden. They're all surrounded by lush greenery, vines, small prey animals, lots of birds, and of course--the forbidden fruit's tree. URIEL, standing apart from the action as a whole, narrates the tale of the Garden of Eden. He reads from a large, golden-crested, purple leather-bound book.]

URIEL: In the Beginning, there was a man and a woman. Adam and Eve. The original pair--the two that lead to the whole human race. However, it seems some haven't heard the tales of the time before Eve: Adam had been first paired with the infamous "Lilith." The Queen of Darkness, an eventual ruler of Hell. The first woman.

[Beat.]

As I hope you will have inferred, Lilith and Adam's pairing wasn't--made in Heaven--so, eventually, Lilith decided to pursue her independence from Adam, refusing to stand by someone who didn't see her as an equal. And so, she left Adam. While alone in the tall trees of the forested garden, she was sought out by the only one who'd dare to be more infamous than she--Lucifer.

[URIEL continues narrating as LUCIFER enters--a bit hesitant. He taps LILITH on the shoulder, and she turns up to face him from her spot seated on the ground, LUCIFER gives a charming smile, and the pair sit, talking for a while.]

Lilith was "unsure," of Lucifer at first, but soon enough, she too saw something in the other, something they'd been starving for. Together, the world wasn't half-bad.

[LUCIFER and LILITH sit together brimming with sweet, youthful rebellion, eating the heart-shaped fruits, somber music swelling romantically in the back, campfire-like feeling]

LILITH: [LILITH'S attention fades away from the fruit. After a moment:] What do you think will happen next?

LUCIFER: [LUCIFER pauses, looking up from the fruit] How do you mean?

LILITH: Tomorrow. The sun will rise again.

LUCIFER: And?

LILITH: Well, you said there was this plan, what do you think will happen next?

LUCIFER: I haven't the slightest idea. [Finished the fruit.] What I do know is: tomorrow, the sun will rise and the sky will grow bright, and, tomorrow, you and I will wake together, along with all of the Garden of Eden.

LILITH: [Smiles.] Well, that will be nice, tomorrow. [LUCIFER smiles back]

[Lights fade, animals chirp and music swells as ADAM and EVE enter]

[ADAM sits against the forbidden tree as EVE flutters about in the greenery, tending to animals and plants of the garden]

ADAM: [Re. LILITH] ...I mean can you even believe that bitch?! Like, c'mon. All I asked for was like, some help. And then she just left! Unbelievable...

EVE: [Hasn't been listening] Oh, yeah, mhm, for sure--Lilith... yeah, got it.

ADAM: I know right? What a whore!! [A bird's repetitive tweeting gets on his nerves] The fuck is that?!

EVE: I don't know, Adam, what is it? ["What should we call it?"]

ADAM: Oh, shit, right. Uh–

EVE: [She shoos it away] ...Well?

ADAM: Shhhhh-uut up, I got it, I got it. Uhm..buh, bahhh,bo, birrrr, boooo[b]

EVE: Bird? [ADAM nods as EVE sits down]

ADAM. Bird. Boom. Done.

EVE: Right. [Beat.] So, I know you said the whole big plan wasn't really something you could explain. But, uhm, could you try? Like–I know you don't want me to eat the fruit, but, well, I guess I'm just not exactly clear on why.

ADAM: Oh not you too, why can't you ladies just do what they say? Don't eat the fruit from that one tree, then nothing will happen, it's simple, really. !

EVE: Adam, come on! Aren't you just a bit curious?

ADAM: Well, yeah, but I'm sure if we just do what they say, then nothing bad will happen!

EVE: [Resigned:] Mhm.

[Lights fade on ADAM and EVE, URI continues:]

URIEL: The next morning, no bird sang. Lilith had shared the fruit with an angel, and within the night, a certain serpent shared his fruit with Eve, who gifted it to Adam. [Beat.] As the golden rays of the sun peaked through the canopy of the Earth, surrounded by the Garden of Eden the lovers awoke in each other arms. And it was nice. [Beat, his tone darkens.] By day's end, the Garden was no more a home for mortals. Adam and Eve's story stayed on Earth, but Lilith's tale knows heights and depths never meant to be seen by a mere mortal. So, after some "convincing" [He makes a suspicious look at the word in his book,] Lucifer took Lilith with him to return to Heaven. Together, the partners vowed to declare their independence from Heaven, ready to be together--to be able to face anything the universe threw their way.

[Blackout.]

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rstarsims3 · 10 months

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Just made the mistake of watching the gameplay trailer for Sims 4 Horse Ranch(eros) or whatever that expansion pack is called (really? seriously!? an EP?!?!?!?! Because how else would you charge €39.99, amirite?!)

Am the only one who cringed all of those 3 minutes while the narrator lady was basically making an improv about things you can do with this EP?

"So....yeah....I have a horse....um, my friend also has a horse....oh, and a foal....totally cute foal............we can make nectar....um, different kinds of nectar.................hm.....what else?...

...oh, there's mini-goats too....

....and sheep...

...........

........

....." End of the painfully 3 mins long trailer.

The FEATURES!!!! The GAMEPLAY!!! The DEPTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The INNOVATION OF IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ASTONISHING!!! Never seen something like this before!

So loving the NEW ranch hand feature!!!! (which is probably added because players get bored after 2-3 hrs of playing any new DLC for TS4. And because EA is being considerate this way. You get bored, you call the guy to take over. Simple!)

At this point The Sims 3 Pats has been broken down into TS4 Cottage Living + TS4 Cats & Dogs + TS4 My First Pet Stuff + TS4 Horses.

Next up: TS4 Magic Unicorns; TS4 My First Barn Stuff; TS4 Equestrian Apparel Kit; TS4 Le Lizard; TS4 Ooo-la-la Chinchilla; TS4 Ssssnakes; TS4 Raccoons Are Not Cats, TS4 The Bouncy Deer; TS4 Big Birds; TS4 Small Birds; TS4 Cages 4 Birds; TS4 Terrariums 4 Reptiles; etc.

------------------------

Alright, shtuting down the sarcasm now.

I'm not in the habit of reacting to TS4 related content and news -at least not "publicly"- but the rude boldness of this embarrassing trailer got me this time.

Shouldn't have watched it!

I haven't watched the first one (the reveal trailer) and everything was fine....*sigh

Will I convert something from this pack? Maybe, maybe not. It appears to be missing even the basic equestrian competition clothes which we do have in TS3 Pets (hence the TS4 Equestrian Apparel Kit *snickers)

*Header pic credit goes to The Sims 3 Pets Expansion Pack - PC Trailer

-----------------------------

#dunno what to tag #non sims #question mark #doesn't feel like the sims anymore #but come on #admit it #you cringed too #gif warning

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rin-bellatrix · 2 years

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U. N. I.

"You and I were meant to be more than friends." - Mating Ritual

Fiona couldn't be happier. Her new boyfriend is not in love with her sister. They've got a piece of the vault key under their belts. And Rhys isn't too bad of a kisser. But he's a bit too preoccupied with other matters to take up space on cloud nine beside her...

Written for @admiralsweko 💕

Header art by @sanzosin (bc this piece was the inspiration for a scene in the fic hehe 🤭💕)

Written for prompt #3 "A breathy demand: "Kiss me" - and what the other person does to respond."

From this kiss prompt list

Takes place a few months after "It Takes Two" so I guess this is technically the second part/chapter to that? 🤔

Bottom white heart divider is from this post and the white star divider is from this post

Fiona relaxed back into the large, expensive office chair at Rhys' desk. She had occupied this seat before, but now that she was the "official girlfriend" of Atlas' president, it felt more like a throne in this moment than a simple piece of furniture. Then again, she could just be riding the whimsy of being up on cloud nine.

Everything was going right for her lately, and she was determined to enjoy it while it lasted. Because life had taught her that things could only go so good for so long. There was a hurdle in her near future, an obstacle that she'd have to overcome. She didn't know what it was, just knew that it was coming.

That, however, was something to worry about when it came to her doorstep. Right now, she could relax and recline back into her boyfriend's overly expensive office chair.

Kicking her feet up on the edge of his polished desk, she knew that he'd be torn when he finally entered his office. On one hand, he'd be thrilled to see his lady love (she had left for a couple of weeks to run several errands for Sanctuary, only returning about an hour ago). On the other hand, he'd surely complain about her using his desk as an elevated foot rest.

But a pouty Rhys was just too cute to pass up, plus ruffling his feathers every now and then was still her favorite pastime. Two birds, one stone as the saying goes.

The entrance to Rhys' office open with a depressurized hiss, the two large metal doors unlocking and sliding away from each other to allow entry. In walked the man himself, coupled with Zer0, a once former assassin, now primarily an elite bodyguard.

"-And I just think that maybe, we can revive that old department and see what good can come of it, ya know?"

The hologram in front of Zer0's high-tech headgear flashed a ? quickly, followed by a nod and a :). The alien vault hunter easily kept pace with Rhys' long legs, the two tall men crossing the office floor in no time.

"What old department?" The female vault hunter asked, her voice making Rhys jump.

"Fiona! Oh my God I didn't see you- when did you get back?"

She snickered, trying to curb the instinctive urge to be smug. "Oh, a little while ago~"

Atlas' CEO shook his head and turned to his friend at his side. "Zer0, why didn't you tell me she was in here?"

The alien assassin shrugged his lithe shoulders and responded in his usual structured inflection. "𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙽𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚖."

At Rhys' reddening cheeks, Zer0 donned a bright ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) across his sleek visor.

Fiona stifled a giggle, watching as Rhys shooed his lanky bodyguard out of the office before turning back around to face her, his hands on his hips. As the electronic doors shut behind Zer0, the former vault hunter flash a quick ;) at her from behind his employers back, until the doors sealed and she could see him no more.

Smiling at the assassin's playfulness, Fiona raised her eyes up to meet Rhys'. She found him avoiding her gaze and frowning, an overall agitated vibe coming from him. "Hey, what's wrong...?" she asked, lowering her boots down to the floor and sitting forward to examine his facial expression.

Atlas' head sighed deeply, running his human hand through his hair in a show of frustration. "Nothing... And everything, just- it's a lot. And none of it is going my way and I'm trying to find the best outcome to every scenario and I keep getting stuck-"

"Hey hey hey, it's okay, c'mere Rhys..." Fiona stood, walking around his large desk to take hold of his arm, guiding him to his chair. She pushed him gently down into it and stepped to the side, settling her hands over his broad shoulders and digging in. Her boyfriend sighed again, this time in pleasure as she worked at his tense shoulders.

"Tell me what's wrong, one thing at a time. We'll figure something out together, okay? Two heads are better than one, after all."

Rhys reached up and patted her hand, showing his appreciation silently. "Well, first off... We have a lead on the second vault key piece."

"Already?" Fiona couldn't hide her shock - it was rare to find even one piece, nevermind two pieces within such a short amount of time. Atlas' research division was truly something else.

"Yeah..." he answered, sounding much less enthused about the fact than she was. "Problem is, now that we're getting closer to forming a full vault key, the commander of the Crimson Raiders wants to take possession of the pieces we find." He lifted his cybernetic arm, turning his palm up and pulling up an ECHO recording of Lilith, head of the ship Sanctuary where she had just come from.

"Hey Atlas, my name's Lilith but you might know me as The Firehawk. Word around the block is you've been collecting vault key pieces. Yeah, I'm gonna need you to stop that and hand over everything you have pertaining to the vault key. Can't have a warmongering corporation claiming a vault for themselves, or all the other weapon companies are gonna wanna ride that train too. Look, Athena is vouching for you and all, but to be completely honest, I just don't like her. And I'm not sure if I can trust her word, you know? Especially considering that at one point, you both worked for Jack... So yeah, you have twenty-four hours to comply or we're gonna have problems. Big problems."

The recording ended there and Rhys dropped his metal hand back into his lap. Fiona rubbed his back soothingly, trying to dispel the dark cloud hanging over his head.

"Rhys, don't worry about it. I've met Lilith a couple times, she's way more chill than that. She was just... Casually threatening you to try and scare you into submission. Look, I'll talk to her and let her know that you're not some evil, scheming corporation out to use the vault's contents for taking over the world or whatever."

Her boyfriend turned to look up at her, still looking hopelessly dejected. She tsked and ran a gloved hand through his wavy hair, using the motion to keep him facing her.

"I'll talk to her," she repeated, meeting his eyes this time as she made a promise out of her words. "Don't worry. Worst case scenario, she takes our vault key pieces and the Crimson Raiders open the vault, in which case at least we can be assured that no evil syndicate is putting the vault to evil use. And maybe we can get some treasures out of it seeing as how you were the one to find two-thirds of the vault key. Best case scenario, she let's us open the vault! Wouldn't that be great?"

Rhys pulled back from her touch, but before Fiona could feel the faintest hint of rejection, he took her hands in his and looked up to meet her clear jade eyes. "Fiona, to be honest, I personally don't care about the vault or its contents, I was doing this to help you out."

Properly confused, she furrowed her brow at his revelation. "Rhys, what are you talking about?"

"Well, you're a vault hunter now, and I wanted to help you find a vault." Here he squeezed her hands, looking elsewhere for a moment before gathering himself and locking eyes with her again. "I know...that I haven't been a super amazing boyfriend lately because we've both been so busy, and I just wanted to make it up to you. I just wanted to make you happy. And what makes a vault hunter happier than opening a new vault! So... I tried everything to secure this key for you and it looks like you might not even get much of anything from it... I'm sorry, Fi..."

Fiona couldn't believe her ears. Rhys, sole owner of one of the major weapons manufacturers, wanted a vault but not for the betterment of his company, but because he felt guilty about their lack of interaction lately...? It was one thing to get the first piece of the vault key to impress her and ask her out. It was another to say that he wanted her to have the entire vault all to herself. Every time she thought that he couldn't surprise her anymore, he always managed to do just that.

"Rhys, you idiot..."

"Huh?"

She swiveled his chair around until he was fully facing her, before reaching up and cupping his bewildered face in her hands. Leaning down, she slanted her mouth over his and ignored the sound of her hat tumbling off and hitting the floor. She kissed him firmly, her persistence making him respond after a moment of surprise. His touch grazed her shoulders, before gripping her firmly and trying to pull her down onto his lap. She braced her hands over the arms of the chair, nibbling his bottom lip which made him elicit the softest groan she had ever heard.

Smiling slightly against his mouth, she pulled back to look down at him. He gazed at her with open affection, reaching up and smoothing his mechanical hand down her short hair, his other hand reaching up to cradle her face. Fiona looked over him, taking in the adoration clear in eyes, the faint rosey tint to his cheeks, the sheen of wetness over his parted lips, down to the way his Adam's apple bobbed on his tattooed neck. She had never felt an infatuation like this for anyone else before, and she counted herself lucky to have been the one to steal away his heart.

"Rhys... I don't need a vault to be happy. As long as you and Sasha are safe and happy, then I'm happy too. I can't believe you'd try to give me a whole vault as a gift... Unbelievable."

The young CEO grinned bashfully, charmed at his girlfriend's sentiment and utterly in love with the way she was looking at him right now. To him, this was worth all the trouble he recently had and then some. If Lilith wanted the vault key pieces, he'd give them over no problem. As long as Fiona kept looking at him like this, then everything was okay.

"Hey Fi?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

The vault hunter, who seemed in this moment more interested in the president of Atlas than in hunting for vaults, grinned happily and straddled her boyfriend's lap. He eagerly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Hey Rhys?" she purred, sliding her arms around his neck.

"Yeah?" he replied avidly, his loving gaze never leaving hers.

"Kiss me..." she ordered, and he wasted no time in slotting their mouths together again.

His hands slid up her back underneath her jacket, reaching up to tug the outerwear off her body. As soon as she shucked it free from her hands, she reached forward and started unbuttoning his vest. She made quick work of that and began on his shirt. He squeezed her hips and she hummed into his mouth, slanting her face in a different angle to deepen the kiss. He sighed pleasantly against her, his hands shifting up her arms until he was able to get a firm grip on her shoulders, pushing her back until they broke away.

"You didn't say it back..." he groused, his petulant attitude softened by his pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips.

Fiona could play this game, if that's what he really wanted. "You never answered me when I asked about what old department..."

Rhys blinked, as if the moments before she had sat in his lap were far off distant memories. When the confusion cleared in his heterochromic eyes, he brightened up and looked almost boyish in his excitement. "Oh, that! Well it turns out that Atlas used to run a pet food division, like a really long time ago, and I was just futzing around with the idea that we could, ya know, maybe bring it back. I think it'd be nice to be able to produce things other than weapons, right? What do you think?"

"Huh, that would be interesting. I never knew Atlas had something like that, seems kinda off-brand for a weapons company."

"Yeah, that's why I'm kinda excited about it. We could expand to so many different projects! Imagine, Atlas apartments... Or an Atlas hospital! I was even thinking maybe a grocery-"

"Rhys."

"Yeah?"

"As adorable as it is watching you get so hyped up for future endeavors, I'm trying to threaten your chastity here."

"Oh..."

"Yeah..." Fiona pushed aside his partially open shirt, letting her fingertips graze over the curved edges of his blue chest tattoo. "Is that okay...?" She kissed him sweetly, just long enough until she felt his hands settle on her hips again.

Atlas' president smirked up at her. "You trying to score a... Touchgoal?"

"Oh shut up and kiss me already...!"

"I will, after you say it back..."

Fiona rolled her eyes, but her obvious affection for him kept her expression playfully frustrated. "Okay, fiiine... I guess you could say that on a good day, if I'm feeling generous and benevolent, and you're not being too annoying..." He was nodding along, trying to encourage her to continue. "...Then, yeah... I love you too..."

Rhys was positively beaming. "See? Was that so hard?"

"I believe I already told you to shut up, Strongfork."

"Geez Fi, it's almost like you have a crush on me or something," he snickered, leaning in to kiss her with a smile on his lips. He was pleased at the embarrassed flush over his girlfriend's face. It was rare that he could get one up on her but oh so worth it when he did.

Fiona, on her part, fell eagerly into their kiss, mostly for the fact that she knew it was probably the only way she could actually get him to shut up. And also for the fact that yeah, she really was trying to score a touchgoal.

Fun fact, in case you didn't know: in the first Borderlands game, there's a mission you do where you have to collect dog food for someone and the company that produces that food is actually Atlas!

Here's a post where Andaxay and I talk about it if you wanna see photographic evidence of the dog food can and read Andaxay's short head canon about Rhys' possible new business venture 💕

BTW if you want more rhyiona fics, I really ✨ H I G H L Y ✨ recommend Andaxay bc her writing is SO in character that she's literally one of my all time favorite writers 💖 Here is her pinned post with links and summaries to her collection of Rhys x Fiona fics

☆ borderlands masterlist ⋆ main masterlist ☆

#rhyiona #rhyiona or bust #rhys strongfork #rhys the ceo #fiona borderlands #fiona the vault hunter #borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tftbl #tftb #rin's fic

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