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#took me forever to fully render this my god
mxrtified777 · 8 months
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HANAHAKI DISEASE/ASPHYXIATION
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that-1d-blogger · 12 days
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Plot - a two shot where you marry the love of your life - Liam Payne
My hands shook slightly as Salem carefully pinned the last piece of my elaborately styled updo into place. I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep the rising tide of nerves at bay. Today was the day I had dreamed about for years - my wedding day. The day I would finally become Liam's wife. Mrs Payne .
Fucking god
I don’t know how long it had been until Salem kissed my cheek, told me she loved me and ushered everyone and herself out of the room to give me some space .
A sharp rap on the door made me jump.
"You decent, love? Only got two handsome blokes out here looking to escort a bride," Louis' unmistakable voice called out in a cheerful rasp.
"Come in!" I managed to reply, my voice coming out higher than normal.
The door swung open and Louis strolled in with Zayn right behind him, both of them looking devilishly dapper in their immaculately fitted blue suits. Their jaws dropped almost comically when they got their first look at me.
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"Bloody hell..." Zayn breathed, running an appreciative eye over my form-fitting white lace gown. "Payno's one jammy bastard, isn't he?"
A wide grin stretched across Louis' face, crinkling the corners of his bright blue eyes. "You're not wrong there, Malik. Although our little blushing bride has rendered me speechless for once."
I felt my cheeks flush ever deeper at their compliments. Zayn gave an exaggerated bow while Louis swept into a courtly gesture.
"My lady, might we have the honor of escorting you to your prince on this most blessed of days?"
Rolling my eyes good-naturedly, I linked arms with the two men who had quickly become like brothers to me over the past few years. I still remembered the first time I met Liam's tight-knit group of friends...
It was a quintessentially dreary London evening, rain lashing against the cafe windows in sheets. I had been freelancing some writing work and stopped in for a coffee break, never anticipating that the curly-haired bloke at the next table would change my life forever. Our eyes met across the dim, crowded shop and something indescribable passed between us. All I knew was that I had to talk to him.
With uncharacteristic boldness, I had scooped up my things and slid into the empty seat across from him before my nerves could fail me.
"This is probably incredibly forward of me..." I began. The stranger's features shifted into an undeniably handsome smirk.
"Forward? From a gorgeous girl like you? I don't mind one bit, love."
We spent the next few hours chatting away like old friends, losing track of time until the barista had not-so-politely informed us that they were closing up shop. I learned that his name was Liam, and those warm brown eyes and crinkly smile tugged at something deep in my soul. When he asked if I wanted to grab dinner sometime, the word "yes" had tumbled from my lips before I even had a chance to think.
We became inseparable after that first date. Liam's positivity, affection and quiet strength grounded me in a way I'd never experienced before. He had an incredibly close-knit group of friends, a bit of a lads' club really, but they welcomed me with wide open arms from day one. When he finally introduced me to Louis, Zayn, Harry and Niall over beers one night at their local, I instantly knew why their friendships all ran so deep.
Louis, with his biting wit, devilishly flirtatious charm and surprisingly soulful warmth...
Zayn, the quieter, more mysterious one but with hidden depths and an incredible loyalty to those closest to him...
Harry, the playful, shameless flirt with the raspy laugh and dimpled smile...
And Niall, forever the sun-bleached golden retriever puppy, ceaselessly positive and silly and kind to the core...
As different as they all were, their bond was palpable. It was like gaining not just a boyfriend, but a whole new wacky chosen family that fully embraced me as one of their own. Stumbling out of the pub well after closing time on that first night, cheeks flushed from too many pints and ribs aching from marathon laughter sessions, I had known there was something profoundly special about this whole crew.
Two years later, and here we were - Liam and I taking the ultimate plunge and sealing our commitment for life. Just the thought of it made my pulse race.
As a child I always wished of that fairy tale wedding with my parents walking me down the aisle , my hundreds of people cheering , but all of that shattered when I lost my parents in a car freak accident , and got stuffed in a orphanage home . So when I asked Louis and Zayn to walk me down the aisle, we all started crying and hugged each other for 30 minutes straight .
I met Salem and Sabrina while interning at Fine line designs, after an awkward run in , we were assigned to a group project and we bonded even after it ended . Sabrina then introduced me to her long time girlfriend and now Fiancée Jasmine, who gives the best advice and is an elder sister to me. We four got pretty close . Salem , Jasmine and Sabrina , aren’t close with the lads as I am but when they get together they mix well.
Well Salem nearly balded Niall once for saying she got wrinkles , and Jasmine broke Liam’s nose accidentally but they mix well….
"Ready, love?" Louis murmured, suddenly looking almost choked up despite his customary bravado. "Last chance to run, you know. Although Tommo might have to chase you down..."
"Don't you start!" I admonished through a watery smile. "I've never been more ready for anything. Besides, you'd only come rescue me from those other bridesmaids out of some knight-in-shining-armor complex."
Zayn barked out one of his distinctively rough laughs. "She's got you pegged there, Tommo. C'mon, let's get this princess to her charming prince before the lads start placing bets."
With Louis and Zayn bracketing me on either side, we headed out into the hallway and made our way toward the main hall where the ceremony would take place. My breath caught in my throat when I heard the first swells of music - this was really it. I was about to walk down the aisle toward Liam and pledge the rest of my life to him.
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"Don't worry, I'll be here to hold you up if those knees start shaking too bad," Zayn murmured in my ear with a wry smile. I shot him a grateful look, pulse thundering in my ears.
"And I've got the fainting couch ready just in case," Louis chimed in with a wink. Taking a fortifying breath, I gave them each a playful shove.
"You two are terrible..." I grumbled, but my lips twitched with suppressed mirth. Honestly, I was grateful for their teasing banter and lame jokes. It helped steady my frazzled nerves.
At long last it was time to make our entrance, and the ornate wooden doors swung open before us. A soft gasp escaped me as I got my first glimpse of the resplendent scene awaiting us. Every surface seemed to sparkle and gleam with opulent white florals, crystal drippping from the soaring ceilings in glittering chandeliers. At the end of the long, lavishly decorated aisle stood Liam beside the officiator, hands clasped tightly and practically vibrating with nervous energy.
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His entire face lit up like a thousand watt bulb when his eyes finally landed on me. The tender adoration in his expression very nearly buckled my knees, his warm brown eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. Harry and Niall flanked him in sleek black suits, the latter rocking back on his heels in apparent excitement while the dimpled Cheshire Cat grin stretched across Harry's face. I couldn't help but laugh at the cheeky winks they shot my way as Louis and Zayn led me closer and closer down the aisle, the music swelling all around us.
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My best friends, Salem , Sabrina and Jasmine standing in navy blue dresses standing beside my side of the alter gave me tearful smiles. Jasmine made inappropriate whoops, as Salem blew kisses with one hand, the other hand cradling Sabrina who smiled widely at me, tears running down her cheeks. Thankgod the makeup was waterproof.
It felt like an absolute dream, this perfect slice of time almost shimmering around the edges with its beauty and poignancy. All too soon though, we reached the end of the aisle. Louis pecked my cheek firmly, sniffing in a distinctly un-smooth way.
"Love you, kid," he murmured gruffly. Zayn pulled me in for a tight hug, dark eyes looking suspiciously bright.
"You've got this," he mouthed, giving me a reassuring squeeze. I squeezed them both back fiercely before taking Liam's outstretched hands, losing myself in the endless warmth of his loving gaze.
"Hi," I mouthed, feeling drunk on happiness and disbelief that this was actually happening.
"Hi yourself," he mouthed back, dimples winking as tears spilled over onto his cheeks. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
I felt my own eyes well up at his words, the love blazing between us almost a palpable force. The ceremony itself passed by in a dazed, blissful blur. Liam's vows were incredibly emotional and heartfelt, each vow and promise twining inextricably around my heart as he professed his eternal love and devotion to me. When it was my turn for vows, I had to take a few calming breaths before finding my voice.
The low murmur of the guests faded away as the officiator, a dignified looking man with silvery hair, stepped forward and raised his hands. A hush fell over the room.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony..." his rich baritone rang out.
I felt Liam give my hands a reassuring squeeze as the solemn but joyful words washed over us. My eyes traced over the familiar faces of our nearest and dearest - Louis giving me an over-exaggerated wink and cheesy double thumbs up, Zayn smiling softly beside him, Harry throwing a roguish air kiss in my direction and Niall practically vibrating with poorly contained excitement.
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Shaking my head fondly at their antics, I refocused my attention on the officiator as the traditional recitations began. Liam and I turned to face one another, his warm brown eyes shining with so much pure love it nearly took my breath away.
"The couple has prepared their own vows to share with one another," the pastor continued. "Liam, if you would..."
Liam swallowed hard, giving a jerky nod before inhaling deeply. For a moment his eyes flicked over to the groomsmen and I couldn't resist a cheeky aside.
"Don't worry, your mates already told me you've got this," I murmured with a wry smile. A beat passed before Niall gave a badly muffled snort of laughter, making Liam's lips twitch upwards.
"The bride's got a point, Payno. Don't blow it now after all our pep talks!" Louis cackled in a carrying whisper.
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Liam gave me a look of pure adoration before finally starting in on his vows.
"My dearest love...from the moment you boldly plopped yourself down across from me at that cafe and started chatting me up, I knew you were someone incredibly special," he began, voice thick with emotion. "Your warmth, your spirit, your kindness and bravery in the face of everything this crazy life has thrown your way - it all captivated me right from the start. You came into my world during some really dark times, but you were the shining beacon that showed me the way back into the light again."
My own eyes welled up at the raw truth ringing in his words. Liam had been in a very unhealthy place, both mentally and physically, when we first met. The sadness and hurt he carried from past trauma had nearly consumed him. Yet my stubborn refusal to give up on him gradually chipped away at the walls he built up until the beautifully kind, sensitive and strong man I knew was waiting inside emerged once more.
"Our connection was cosmic, fated - something that transcended this earthly plane. You are quite simply the other half of my soul," Liam continued fervently. "Your unshakeable strength, spirit and compassion inspire me every single day. I promise to spend the rest of my life cherishing you, protecting you, lifting you up and supporting your dreams and ambitions. I vow to nurture, respect and care for you always. You have shown me how to live and love again...and I will spend my forever showing you the same in return."
By the time he finished, I had dissolved into a teary mess while the officiator discreetly passed me his handkerchief. Louis openly blew his nose beside me, already having lost the fight against his emotions. Zayn wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders, giving me a subtle "okay" gesture to indicate it was my turn.
Taking a steadying breath, I willed my voice not to shake as I met Liam's reverent gaze.
"Liam, you are the strongest, bravest, most generous person I know," I began, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "I saw glimpses of your beautiful soul that very first day at the cafe, but I don't think even I could have anticipated how immense and profound your capacity for love and healing truly was."
A sly chuckle escaped from Harry's direction, making Liam's brows furrow slightly. Zayn discreetly elbowed the green-eyed flirt before I continued.
"When we met, I had resigned myself to a life of solitude. As an orphan, I never expected to find that elusive place of safety, of true belonging...of home. But you showed me that even those of us who started out alone in this world could create our own extraordinary family through the people we choose to keep close."
I couldn't resist pausing to gesture at Louis, Zayn, Harry and Niall then, all of them straightening up proudly.
"These ridiculous lads you somehow conned into being your best mates are proof enough of that," I teased, successfully Breaking the tension with a ripple of laughter. "Thank you for welcoming me into your wild, weird, wonderful brotherhood from the very beginning and making me feel so cherished. I'll never be able to properly express what that's meant to me..."
Swallowing hard, I locked eyes with Liam once more.
"My love, you are my happy ever after. You are my peace, my joy, my home. I vow to spend the rest of my days showing you the incredible depth of my love and devotion for you. I promise to respect you, cherish you, challenge you and nurture the profound goodness inside of you that makes you so undeniably special. I will celebrate your successes, catch you whenever you fall, and remind you of your unique power and magic whenever you lose sight of it. You have given me a life and love I never could have dreamed of...and I will spend my forever making sure that you never for a single moment doubt how indescribably lucky and grateful I am to now call you my husband."
Liam's breath escaped in a watery rush at the end of my vows, squeezing my hands until our knuckles turned white. Over his shoulder, I saw Niall passing around a wad of tissues, hastily wiping away at his own suspiciously bright eyes.
"And now, the rings, if you please," the pastor's voice carried over the reverent hush that had fallen.
Salem and Louis both stepped forward, those ridiculous matching dimpled smiles plastered on their faces. Tradionally the best man gives the rings over, but of course these four had to put their own spin on it. Harry carefully plucked the simple platinum band from the plush velvet pillow he carried and slipped it into Liam's waiting palm. Louis did the same for me before leaning in entirely too close.
"You hurt him, I hurt you, got it love?" he stage-whispered, winking cheekily to take any sting out of the words before rejoining Zayn and Niall.
It appears Salem made a similar comment to Liam , whose eyes widened and made a visible gulp before nodding immediately. She gave me a cheeky wink as she went back to join Sabrina and Jasmine
She definitely threatened to chop his dick like sausage.
With a rueful chuckle, Liam met my gaze once more, eyes shining.
"Ready to make it official, darling?" he murmured.
"Forever and always," I replied fervently.
We repeated the age-old words after the officiant, sliding the rings onto each other's fingers with hands that somehow weren't quite as steady as we would have liked them to be. Looking up from our joined hands, I was struck by the pure radiance of the joy on Liam's face.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife..." The words triggering a thunderous outbreak of cheers and applause from our assembled loved ones. "You may kiss the bride."
I barely had time to draw a breath before Liam's hands were cupping my waist , twirling me as he crashed his lips fervently against mine. Distantly, I could make out the unmistakable catcalls and whistles from our groomsme- no, our brothers. Liam and I sealed our new beginning as a married couple with that searing, loving kiss, only breaking apart when Louis and Niall's increasingly lascivious hooting and hollering grew too obnoxious to ignore any longer.
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Laughter bubbling up from both of us, we turned to face our exuberantly cheering guests - husband and wife at long last. Harry, Louis, Niall and Zayn all surged forward to engulf us both in a tangle of hugs, laughs and playful roughhousing. In that singular moment of joy, I felt so overwhelmingly grateful not just to have found my life partner in Liam, but a whole family of true brothers as well. Bound together by far more than just friendship, the five of us wild, weird souls had created something magical and unbreakable through the inexplicable circumstance of fate and destiny.
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Part 2 with a drunk fun party will be uploaded tomorrow!!! It's better i promise
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Up Close And Personal
“Behold, I will wave My hand over them and they shall become plunder for their own slaves. Then you shall know (recognize, understand fully) that the LORD of hosts has sent Me.” Zechariah 2:9AMP
Who is enslaving us? Nobody—right? Are we duped into thinking we’re free? Like the Pharisees told Jesus, “…“We are Abraham’s descendants and have never been slaves of anyone. How can you say that we shall be set free?” John 8:33NIV. Did they merely forget for a moment they were under Roman occupation? This is ‘convenient memory.’
When it’s our generation conveniently forgetting— each day we’re losing another freedom to a godless, communist, government, one enacting powers not authorized by the constitution— we’re talking stupid and sad. Who’s going to set us free?
My heart has been breaking for this nation and our sister country of Lou’s birth. As I’ve petitioned heaven, the Lord keeps reminding me of the scriptures He gave me in 2020: Isaiah 33:10NLT “But the LORD says: “Now I will stand up. Now I will show My power and might.” Psalm 33:10-11NLT “The LORD frustrates the plans of the nations and thwarts all their schemes. But the LORD’s plans stand firm forever; his intentions can never be shaken.”
Prophets are calling for a greater move than the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. They’re declaring God is going to save us out of the midst of the evil. As I pressed into to hear what Holy Spirit had to say, He took me to our text. Scratching my head, I had to look this text up in every translation to see what it actually says. The Amplified Bible is the clearest to understand. All of the corrupt government officials who live through what is coming will be our slaves, instead of the way they planned.
We need “two or three witnesses.” 2Corinthians 13:1NIV This week Holy Spirit opened to my understanding (rhema word)— Isaiah 33:20-24NLT “You will see Jerusalem…” [here God is speaking of the grafted in Jew, the church] “It will be like a tent whose ropes are taut and whose stakes are firmly fixed. [this is speaking of a secure place of safety.] “The LORD will be our Mighty One. He will be like a wide river of protection that no enemy can cross,” [back in the dark ages 1000 to 1300 AD lords made a moat of water around the lands for protection. Jesus will be wider, actually a river.] “that NO ENEMY SHIP can sail upon. For the LORD is our Judge, our Lawgiver, and our King. He WILL CARE for us and save us. [Can we ask for any better promise than what you just read?] “The enemies’ sails hang loose on broken masts with useless tackle. Their treasure will be divided by the people of God.” [At this point I want you to reread our text. The enemies of the church and our nations are rendered incapable of any actions.] “Even the lame will take their share!” [So many have been rendered weak in the church with illness, crippling diseases, etc. will be set free to take their share of healing. Pharma, and the corrupt have kept millions sickly, when they had the cures all along.] “The people of Israel will no longer say, “We are sick and helpless,” for the LORD will forgive their sins.” [Remember the crippled man let down through the roof on the mat, Luke 5:17-39? Sin and sickness often hold hands.] (All interjections and emphasis were mine.)
Those who become intimately connected with Jesus Christ will find themselves suddenly provided for, cared for in every way, healed and whole. Satan loses his total hold over the church. Nothing is as important as becoming up close and personal with Christ Jesus. Lukewarm doesn’t cut it. Are you there yet?\ It’s your choice. You choose.
LET’S PRAY: Holy God I desire to be as close to you as is possible. Help us all, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.
by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.
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idy-ll-ique · 3 years
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Hot Chocolate.
Pairing: Chris Evans X F!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Requested: Nope
Warnings: Mentions of blood
Summary: Chris Evans has seen this woman a couple of times before. Turns out, she's a good friend of Scott's, and the two brothers are supposed to meet at the park that day.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! A lot happens in this fic and I hope it makes sense... Enjoy!
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Chris paused in his tracks when he saw her. He had seen her around a handful of times. She was standing between two groups of men, scolding both the groups as the men hung their heads low in shame. "Now can we all apologize to each other and play nicely?" she huffed, placing a hand on her hips. "Yes Y/N," they drawled, the groups united and they began playing their game again— dodgeball.
A smile bloomed on Chris' face. She was the mother of the group. Every friend circle had a mother hen, and that was… Y/N, they said? She was the only girl in the group of 7, but just as badass as all the boys. "Chris, Chris!" He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see his brother, Scott, running towards him. "Hey man." The two men hugged and Scott glanced around.
His eyes lit up when he saw Y/N. "Y/N/N!" At the loud yell, Chris' eyes went wide as Y/N looked over at them, her lips forming a smile so beautiful that Chris was rendered speechless. "Scott!" she exclaimed happily, running towards them. Unfortunately, she happened to trip over a small rock and stumbled forward, landing on her front with an 'oof' and a groan.
Scott simply laughed as Chris ran forward, terrified. He helped her up, offering her his arm. She clutched it when her head started spinning. "Still as clumsy as ever," Chris' brother snorted and Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. "Still as immature as ever. Be more like your brother, dude, he helps." The tip of Chris' ears turned pink as Scott rolled his eyes.
"Mind introducing me to your friend?" Chris spoke as Y/N dusted the front of her t-shirt. "Right, this is Y/N Y/L/N, a very good friend of mine. Y/N—" She cut him off by waving her arm in dismissal. "Who doesn't know Chris Evans? It's very nice to meet you, sir." Chris grinned at her. "Chris will do just fine, darling." Scott huffed at the nickname.
"That's my best friend, douche."
"And what about it?" Chris countered, turning to Y/N with a worried look when she groaned. "What happened?" he asked. "I skinned my knee and ruined my pants." The three of them turned to look at Y/N's legs; her pants were torn on the left knee and blood was seeping into the pants through the wound. "That's not a skinned knee, that's a whole wound!" Scott yelled.
"Well, now I know why it hurts so much," she laughed in defeat, leaning on Chris. "My house is nearby, why don't we go there? Get you cleaned up," Chris offered. "Boys!" Her group of friends turned to them. "I'm going with Scott!" They shouted their goodbyes to Y/N and hellos to Scott, getting back to their game. "You know the guys, too?" Chris asked his brother.
"Yeah, man, as if I'm going to let her hang out with just any group of men. Let's go to your place, can't wait to see Dodger again," Scott grinned. The three of them left the park, Y/N doing her best not to fully lean against the handsome man who was almost carrying her at this point. She had had a crush on Chris Evans ever since she became friends with Scott; that was almost 10 years ago.
Imagine holding onto a crush for that long.
How did Chris not know her if she was such good friends with Scott? That will forever remain a mystery, he thought.
"So, Y/N, what do you do?" Chris asked her to take her mind off the wound that was now starting to throb badly. "Last year PhD student," she answered, hissing. "Nice, nice. Which subject are you getting your PhD in?" he smiled. "Law. I love A Starting Point, I never miss an episode." She looked up at him, giving him a small grin. "That means a lot, thanks."
"If this is your version of flirting, change it. It's very boring."
Scott snickered as Chris and Y/N both gave him glares. Soon, they reached Chris' house and Chris opened the door. Dodger was asleep in the sitting room and Scott immediately ran over to the dog, petting him. Chris, meanwhile, took Y/N to the bathroom. "Take a bath, you have mud all over you. I'll keep clean clothes outside." She let go of Chris' arm and he immediately wished she hadn't done that.
"Oh, but uh… your clothes…" she stammered, blushing furiously. Chris rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. "Don't worry, I'll find something that fits. I'll also keep a towel outside." She nodded and closed the door when he left. Chris went to the stairs only to see Scott standing at the bottom of the stairs, his hands on his hips. "What do you want?" Chris sighed.
"Ask her out, please!" the younger man groaned as Chris went to the guest bedroom, taking out the towel kept in the cupboard in the room. "It's not that easy," Chris muttered, walking to his room. Scott followed him. "Why not? You were blushing so much when I introduced you to her," Scott pouted. "She is gorgeous, I agree but— but what makes you think she'll wanna go out with me?" Chris startled when Scott burst out laughing.
"That woman has had the biggest crush on you ever since the first Captain America movie came out, okay? There's no way she is going to say no to you. I have to warn you, though, if you ever break up, I'm breaking your kneecaps." Chris gave his brother a shove, but a smile bloomed on his face when he went downstairs, a towel, a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts in his hands.
"Y/N?" he called out, knocking on the door. "Just leave the clothes outside, I'll get them!" She called out from inside. "Do you want anything to drink? Hot chocolate, maybe, tea?" he offered out of the blue, leaning against the door. "Hot chocolate sounds nice, thank you!" He nodded and went to the kitchen. Y/N, when she heard his footsteps echo away, shuddered in pleasure.
Oh my God, was she really going to sit there and have hot chocolate with her crush and his brother, who happened to be her good friend? She quickly got out of the tub, wincing when her knee jolted with pain. Y/N grabbed the towel and dried herself off, careful about avoiding the wound which had not stopped bleeding.
She put on her bra and panties, flushing when she realized that the t-shirt Chris gave her was slightly see-through. She put it on anyway, also wearing the shorts. "Um, Scott?" she called out upon walking out of the bathroom. "Yes, babe?" he yelled from the sitting room and she walked outside, sitting next to him. "Did you not clean your wound?" Scott sighed when he saw her knee.
"It won't stop bleeding, I think I have to bandage it," she groaned, leaning back on the couch. "Should I help with that?" Both Scott and Y/N turned to see Chris standing there, holding three mugs of hot chocolate. Y/N's breath hitched, he wanted to clean her wound? "That would be amazing!" Scott agreed with a proud smirk. Chris rolled his eyes at his brother and kept his mug down.
"I'll bring the first aid kit."
"Scott," Y/N hissed as Scott hurriedly finished his hot chocolate, slamming the mug on the table. "I just got an urgent text message, I need to go," he smirked at her. "Shut up," she growled when he got up, ruffling her hair. "Enjoy your date," he crooned, leaving the house before Chris could return with the first aid kit. Y/N simply sat there and clutched her mug, imagining it was Scott's neck instead.
"Where did Scott go?"
Chris blinked when he walked back into the sitting room. "He got an urgent text, he had to go." Chris saw right through the lie. "That bastard," he grunted under his breath but Y/N heard and giggled. "Language," she chided jokingly and he grinned at her, sitting on the floor in front of her. "Why did it not stop bleeding?" he asked as he carefully cleaned the wound.
Y/N moaned in pain when the ball of cotton dipped in antiseptic came in contact with her knee. "I don't know," she muttered, a tear leaking out of her left eye as he continued wiping the blood away. "Aw hey, don't cry, it'll be fine," he whispered softly, leaning up to flick the tears away when he heard a sniffle. "Yeah I know, sorry…" He shook his head as he tied a bandage to her knee.
"Don't apologize, I know it hurts. You gotta be brave, though." She nodded when he stood up, keeping the first aid kit away. He washed his hands and came back to examine his work. A spot of blood was visible on the bandage. "Feeling better?" he smiled at her, sitting next to her with his own mug of hot chocolate. He took a sip; it had gotten a bit cold but he could manage.
"A lot. Thank you so much, Chris, you're awesome."
"All my pleasure, darling. Wanna watch a movie?"
She shrugged and he switched the TV on. Y/N kept her empty mug on the table as he flipped through the channels, stopping when he saw that Mr and Mrs Smith was playing on one of them. "How about this one?" Y/N nodded and leaned back against the couch, smiling to herself when Chris rested his hand against the backrest, almost dropping his arm around her shoulders.
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Y/N's eyes started drooping with sleep half an hour into the movie, the bath, the hot chocolate and the 2 hours of exercise in the park finally catching up to her. "Sleepy?" Chris chuckled softly when she yawned, rubbing her eyes. "I should probably get going or I'll fall asleep right here," she laughed, turning to get up but Chris grabbed her hand. "Sleep here, I'll wake you up in a few hours," he insisted.
Y/N bit her lip in apprehension. "You shouldn't walk, not when your knee is like that," Chris tried again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw Y/N's expression. "Okay, fine." Chris smiled hugely when she relaxed against the couch. She yelped when he brought her closer to him, making her rest her head on his chest while he put an arm around her shoulders.
"I got you, sleep." Y/N snuggled further into his comfortable arms, not believing this was happening but not wanting to ruin the moment. Chris switched off the television, taking his phone out as he rubbed her back with his left hand, lulling her to sleep. When she finally fell asleep his hand rested against her hip, holding her to him. He opened the messaging app, rolling his eyes when he saw messages from Scott.
Did you two kiss??????
Chris smirked to himself, took a quick selfie of him holding Y/N in his arms, and sent it to Scott. The man replied within seconds.
OMG
I'm warning you again
If you break her heart
I'm breaking your kneecaps
You're breaking my kneecaps
Yeah I know that
Don't worry I'm not going to break her heart I promise
Good
Gtg fr this time bye
Bye
Chris kept his phone away for a moment as he adjusted himself; getting comfortable while also making sure Y/N was comfortable. Then he picked up his phone again, opening Instagram as his arms went around Y/N's waist.
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"Mm!"
Y/N stretched her arms above her head as she opened her eyes, blinking when she realized Chris was not next to her. "Chris?" she called out, sitting up. No response. She couldn't even hear Dodger's bark. Where was he? She stood up and waddled all over the place, yelling Chris' name. Finally sure he wasn't at home, she groaned and plopped down on the couch.
She was alone at Chris Evans' house.
"Damn it," she muttered, suddenly spotting the three mugs that were still on the table. Well, Chris had shown her such wonderful hospitality, she should only return the favor, right? Smiling, she got up and grabbed the mugs, taking them to the kitchen. She laughed when she saw a mountain of dishes still in the sink; she was lazy when it came to doing dishes, too.
Taking out her phone and playing songs, she kept her phone on the kitchen counter and started washing the dishes. It was the least she could do for him after he let her stay at his place for— she checked the time; almost 5 hours. She had been here for almost 5 hours now.
"Dodge, come on bud, time to go home!" Chris shouted and Dodger came running over, leaping into Chris' arms. The man laughed and they walked back to his house. When they entered, though, Chris was a bit surprised; he could hear songs playing in the kitchen and the unmistakable sound of water running. Quietly tiptoeing into the sitting room, he peeked into the kitchen and saw Y/N.
He gulped; the sight of her wearing his clothes, standing in his kitchen doing the dishes for him was something else. She was singing along to the songs, not at all aware of his presence. "Y/N." She yelped and almost dropped the plate she was holding, turning to look at Chris. "You scared me!" she laughed, giving him a huge smile.
Unable to help himself, he strode forward, took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.
Y/N kissed him back, wide-eyed. "What was that for?" she whispered when he pulled away, panting. "You didn't have to," he spoke instead, running his thumb across her bottom lip. "It's the least I could do," she chuckled when he took the sponge out of her hand, keeping it to the side. He easily picked her up and set her down on the counter, reconnecting their lips.
"God, you're so awesome. Please stay for dinner," he pleaded after their 15 minute make out session got over. "Okay, I will," Y/N giggled, putting her arms around his shoulders. He carried her out of the kitchen and they sat down on the couch, Chris holding her on his lap. "Where were you? You took Dodger for a walk?" Y/N asked him as Dodger sat near the table, closing his eyes.
"I did, yeah. I also filmed another episode of ASP, you were out cold for a long time," he laughed. "I know, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, this must've been the breaking point. Thanks for not waking me up." He gave her a kiss on the forehead, smiling. "Of course, darling."
---
A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!
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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years
Text
In Case You Don’t Live Forever
~chapter three rewritten~
Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader
Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy
Series Masterlist
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Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?
Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.
“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.
“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.
“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.
“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.
“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.
“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.
“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.
“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.
“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.
“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”
Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.
You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.
You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “
He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.
You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.
“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.
“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”
You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.
“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”
Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.
“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.
But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.
“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”
“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”
Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.
“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.
“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.
“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”
“May.” You repeated with a smile.
You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”
You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.
“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.
“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”
“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”
“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”
“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”
“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”
“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.
“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”
“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”
“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”
“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.
“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.
“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.
Oh great. Time for this conversation.
“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”
“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”
“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.
“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”
“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”
“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.
“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.
“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”
Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.
“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.
“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”
“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”
“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.
“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.
“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.
“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.
“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”
It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.
“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”
“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”
“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.
“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.
“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”
“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”
You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.
May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”
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la-li-lu-le-lol · 3 years
Note
okay would you be willing to rank the sneaking suits?
Yes, I would, a lot. This is gonna be image-heavy and will go under a cut because I want to at least try to appear dignified and normal on the surface.
In order of most to least favorite.
1. MGS2
This suit, yall. this fuckin suit. Jesus christ. I feel like it's meant to look good more than it's meant to be functional, and BOY HOWDY DOES IT DO A GOOD JOB OF LOOKING GOOD. I think we all know Kojima thinks tactical gear is hot, and that's all kind of here. But like, it doesn't look *trashy*. I'm into ladies too and tbh I don't really mind the whole bikini armor thing, but I will admit that bikini armor is annoying because it’s usually trashy-looking. It is much, much more attractive when someone's gear is sexy while still being tastefully subtle about it and thats what THIS is, on a man instead of a woman too, which gets it rarity bonus points.
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Like. For real. and it just looks so GOOD on him too, you know? Combined with the long hair and bandana... /chin-hands/ perfect character design. hottest thing ever. eternal fangirl until I die.
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(using a pic of this figma because it’s detailed in a way mgs2 isn’t) You know. It just kinda leads your eye around. There's a way in which his vest slopes down his back with the location of the drawstrings that makes it look like a corset. There's a way in which the straps on his legs extend downward from his vest that makes it look like garters. Like it's all there, and I'm 95.8276 percent sure it was deliberate.
If I can pull my head out of the gutter for a second. I also really like how this suit is kinda ambiguous blue-teal-grey colored. Mgs2 does an interesting thing with the lighting where the color of this suit kinda changes depending on the temperature of the lighting that is hitting it, whether it contains more cool or warm colors, the suit kinda shifts with it. I really like that detail because it feels tactically sound, like a precursor to the octocamo.
Anyway.
2. PO/PW/GZ
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Woof woof bark bark. Sometimes I wish that the mgs2 suit was a lot darker in color because I think dark colors are sexy, and this suit takes care of all that for me while still having a bunch of tasty eye-leading design that differentiates it from everything else. The splash of color on the gold bands and green harness is a great touch and almost gives this a sort of "wetsuit" vibe? I also really like the drawstrings on the sides of the arms and legs. This design is super good. Big Boss more like Big Sigh while my eyes turn into hearts.
3. MGS1
The suit that started it all. This one definitely leans a lot more towards the "functional" rather than "sexy" side of the scale in part because of the elbow-knee pads and the thermal vest. TBH for a bit I didn't like this suit a whole lot because I always thought it fit him weird, mostly because the model in Twin Snakes was my only non-polygon reference for it and it just wasn't that good, imo. But then I saw this render...
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and this figurine:
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my opinion changed and now I love it, it's so COOL LOOKING. All it needs is a bit of a more modern render in order for you to fully appreciate it, imo!!
I think this suit is the most badass out of the bunch, kind of the most "I mean serious business" out of the bunch, and naturally, that = sexy. I think also that Snake having short hair with a bulkier suit is a great character design contrast, similiar to how in mgs2 he grew out his hair longer which contrasted with the sleeker mgs2 suit. Shinkawa knows what’s good.
4. MGS4
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Old Snake's suit, oh, Old Snake's suit. MGS4 was the game where people really started noticing and talking about how much emphasis was placed on his ass, which looks fucking fantastic for his age might I add. Besides that, this suit design was always super interesting to me because of how it feels like an All-In-One sort of thing, and how its lines and such kind of mimic muscles and sinew.
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(courtesy of our favorite mgs4 documentarian @youlltrytobreakmetoo) It seems like a very carefully-constructed suit with a ton of thought and effort put into its design. It is not as much to my personal taste like more traditional-looking gear is, but it's still very cool looking! The load-bearing vest up top isn't my favorite thing either but I appreciate it design-wise as a contrast in the silhouette. I also love the octo-camo. It's such a neat idea, and all the patterns look great. I particularly like the black Metals one and the really dark navy blue one.
5. MGSV
Venom Snake is a straight up hunky beefcake who will look great in anything you put on him. Absolute legend. I do personally prefer him in his usual outfit but he also looks real good in the sneaking suits. While the GZ suit is an option here, This entry is more about the black and grey sneaking suit that is an option in TPP, which I thiiiink is meant to be a rehash of the mgs1 suit?
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(Oh god, that image is smaller than I thought, sorry for the blurriness.) I think it looks good on him but it, in my opinion, needs more color and distinguishing design features. It needs to be a little more design-y and a little less functional. But it doesn’t have anything that I hard dislike on it so it’s still not last.
6. MGS3 black sneaking suit
Unpopular opinion? maybe.
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Not saying this doesn't look cool on Naked Snake. It does. It does!!!! But I really don't like the puffiness on the sleeves and legs. I know they were going for an astronaut vibe, but that just doesn’t tick any boxes for me. I think that the design also just feels a little out of place in mgs3 in general, I'm so used to Snake wearing his fatigues that him wearing anything else is just weird. The orange is a cool pop of color though, so it gets some style points. But lose the weird puffs pls, and lose the grey. Put this boy back in his fatigue suspenders, please, or stick him in the PW suit.
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HONORABLE "WTF" MENTION: PW suit with the dick suspenders and these... grenade pattern... thigh high boots?! holy shit.
OKAY WHEW THAT TOOK ME FOREVER AND i HOPE SOMEONE BESIDES ME LIKES MY DUMB THOUGHT DUMPS. LOVE YALL, I NEED TO GO TO SLEEP NOW LMAO.
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kindcolors · 2 years
Note
uhm uhm uhm 25 with Conrad and Claudette my loves
i love them sm
Enzo and Mimi had left the hospital just four minutes before Conrad entered Claudette’s room; she knew they hated to leave, but someone had to go back and clean up what a mess everything had become. Claudette wanted to be the one to fix it, but they refused to let her toy with the thought. Claudette huffed over it, of course; she was only shot twice. She would live, she assured them, but Enzo threw a pillow at her and demanded she stay in bed and rest. Before Mimi fully stepped through the door, she turned to Claudette to give her a message from Rod that their boss was on the way to the hospital. It rendered Claudette speechless; Conrad. Conrad was on her way, and Claudette could only replay the loop of the sniffles she heard echoed over the radio.
When Conrad creaked the door open, Claudette was hit with the sight of her red, puffy eyes and the small wabble her lip still held. They stared at one another. Conrad’s hand still lingered on the doorknob, and Claudette’s fist was tangled in the grip of her blanket.
“What the hell were you thinkin’?” Conrad croaked, finally breaching the thick layer of awful silence. “Goin’ out there alone, against all o’ them?”
“It was my responsibility. I wasn’t going to let anyone else get caught up in the mess I made.”
“Well you did anyways, didn’t ya? Whole town went on lockdown, just ‘bout everyone was locked and loaded-”
“I had to make sure everyone was prepared for anything that could occur. If I couldn’t stop them, you all had to know.”
“What about your team? They couldn’t have helped you? I mean, you,” Conrad took a deep, stuttered breath. “You were shot. By a real bullet, not a laser like the police in the black suits carry. You’ll have two scars embedded in you, forever, because you were too bullheaded to ask for some assistance.”
“What,” Claudette pushed her glasses back up her nose, “Would you have come to my rescue?”
“Yes.”
Claudette sighed, the corners of her lips lifting into a soft smile. “I know you would’ve. I would never have let you, though. I love you too much for that.”
“What?”
“You know,” Claudette turned to the window; the constant red haze of the city was still washing the town in warm hues, dimming as the craft went inactive for the night. “I used to think that the sky here wasn’t real. Then, as I explored, I realized it is real, in a sense. In the sense that it’s physical matter. I…” She brought her hand up, turning it to gaze upon the tiny scratches across her knuckles. “I touched it. It was warm and so bright, and everything I’d ever hoped it’d be. You too are so warm and so bright. That first day I came here when I saw you at the saloon, and I was teetering on the table as I gave a toast I only half remember, I do remember you. I remember the way your shoulders moved as I wobbled as if you’d run over to catch me. You’re so…”
Conrad paced towards the hospital bed, sitting tentatively on the edge. In a stiff shuffle, Claudette leaned towards Conrad, touching her cheek tenderly and bringing their lips together. Slowly, Conrad’s eyes closed. Her hands got lost in Claudette’s hair, and when they parted, Claudette kept her soft hold of the other woman.
“Well, am I?”
“Are you what?” Claudette laughed. She pushed a blue-tipped strand back behind Conrad’s ear.
“Am I everything you ever hoped? Like that ship was?”
“God,” Claudette snorted, kissing Conrad once again. “What do you think?”
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eyitsroseau · 3 years
Text
Across the World Part 1 (Dr. Xeno dad! x Reader) Dr. Stone fanfic | A mini-series
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This will be in two or three parts. I don't know yet. But I hope you like it!
Part 2
Part 3
In which you found out you were pregnant pre-petrification to your long time boyfriend NASA scientist, Xeno. However, when you told him the news, he wanted nothing to do with it because his top priority is his research. Hurt, you decided to find refuge and start anew in the country you have always wanted to live in, Japan. Post-petrification and Senku announced they'll be traveling to America. As you have lived there before, they took you and your one-year-old daughter along. Now, thousands of years later, you'll find yourself face to face with the man who had hurt you the most across the world.
"Hey, babe?" Your nervousness seeped out of your body and your trembling hands are the evidence.
"Yeah? Look, my mentee from Japan messaged me. Looks like he's building a rocket again. Hmmm. All he needs is niobium-alloy nozzle..." he replied, giving you his divided attention. Again.
"Uh, babe?" You said a little louder this time. Sensing your urgency, he sighed and faced you fully.
"What is it?"
"This may sound shocking but, I'm... pregnant," you finally announced, clutching at the hem of your shirt while you waited for his reply.
You know this is unexpected but he'll take responsibility, right? Right? But the nagging gut-feel inside you knows what his answer will be.
With a straight unforgiving face he replied,
"I don't want it."
Remember that pain. Remember the hardships you went through. Remember how you wanted to go far away from the man that hurt you the most. Remember how he never contacted you even a year later. Remember how he didn't even ask for your child- the daughter he never got to meet.
Your daughter, oh God, your daughter! Never forget the way her eyes glimmer when she's with you. Never forget the smiles and giggles she reserves for you. Never forget how she nuzzled you on her first birthday. Never forget the time when you are taking her for a walk near a high school and suddenly you saw a blinding light which rendered you motionless.
Remember those memories again and again. Don't you ever dare forget any little details. No matter how much time passes, always remember.
Never forget.
Suddenly, you feel something cracking. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you can see the light. Your eyes widened when you see trees surrounding you. Not only that but the stone that seemed to cover your body begin to crumble. Little by little, you are gaining back your motility, and you have never felt so refreshed.
When you are finally free, you stood with shaking legs while scanning the area. Where are you? Are you still in Japan? How many years have passed?
Then, something hits you. Where is your daughter? Oh my god! Where is she? She couldn't be separated from you right? You have held her tightly when you saw that light. Panic and worry surged through you and you were about to set out and find her when you heard a familiar song.
Snapping your attention to where the noise came from, you realized that it was the lullaby you have always sang to your daughter, Xenka. Your feet had already started moving before you can register anything.
Alas, there in the middle of the forest, your daughter sat in front of a bonfire, grilling what appeared to be mushrooms. Taken a back, you only stared in shock when Xenka finally looked at you and the widest grin you have ever seen has graced her little face.
"Mama! You're back!"
You can't still wrap around the fact that your one-year-old daughter is facing you right now while talking about what she thought happened. Yes, your lovely Xenka who has not even said her first word before is now talking and had even made her own fire. Plus, she said she has been surviving for a week on her own.
"Sweetie, tell mama what happened when you're still a sto-"
"Mama, the perfect term is petrified! I told you I saw it in the dictionary, right?" your daughter pouted while crossing her chubby arms.
You chuckled. This situation is absurd but what can you expect from Xeno's blood daughter?
"Right, right. I apologize. Xenka-chan what happened to you when you are petrified?"
"I remembered I was really scared, mama! But you hugged me and told me to remember. But, I don't know what you meant so I remembered and studied again the words you taught me. I even memorized the books that I used to play with," she started. Well, what you were trying to say was that she has to remember that you love her. And the books she mentioned were from your roommate who is a researcher in the field of astrophysics and chemistry. You can also remember how Xenka used to scan your biology books.
You are surprised to hear that she basically became a genius over time. But to be honest you are not that surprised. She is Xeno's daughter after all.
A slight pang hit your chest when bitter memories started to fill your mind. As sudden as those memories come, they instantly go away when you feel your daughter sitting on your lap and cuddling you.
"I miss you so much, mama! You didn't hug me back when I awoke!" Her cries echoed through the vast forest and you can't help but to tear up also.
Your biggest fear is the thought that you lost her. Fortunately, your daughter is smart enough to survive on her own even just for a week. You cried with her as relief washed over you.
She must have been so afraid of being alone. And so, you let her wail for hours. It's alright, after all she's still a child. You held her close while whispering words of reassurance that from now on, you won't be separated anymore.
Once the two of you calmed down, Xenka reported that she saw what appears to be a tower when she was scouting the area. And with that, the two of you began your journey. But first, you have to make DIY clothes or else you'll walk in naked if there really is people around.
The stone statues that litter the forest is a little creepy. It reminded you of that village in Japan famous for their stone statues. It took you a day to finally arrive at your destination. That must mean that Xenka has wandered far from where you were depetrified.
To your utter shock, a big ship is what greeted you upon entering the village. What the heck? You feel your daughter squirm in your arms wanting to be set down. You obliged and followed her when she suddenly ran to the direction of the ship.
The nearer you got, the more you see that there are a lot of people gathered around. Hope blooms in your chest as you know now that you and your daughter will survive seeing as they have this kind of resources.
A group of people went down the ship and the villagers seemed to buzz with excitement. I was about to grab Xenka so we can introduce ourselves but to my surprise, she's already in front of a young man with white hair that turns green in the tips. That reminded you of a leek which Xenka hates.
"Eh? Whose kid are you?" the man said while picking on his ear.
You sighed and hurried to walk beside your daughter. Upon seeing you, everyone erupted to loud whispers, questioning your identity. Some people from the ship even took a defensive stance and had their weapons at the ready. You suddenly felt scared and the young man sighed.
"Oi, what the heck are you doing?" He scolded his friends.
"We don't know her. She could be an enemy. Protect the chief. Rules are rules," the tall man with glasses replied.
"I am ten billion percent sure that she's not. If I deduce it correctly, you have been depetrified on your own, right?" You nodded and then his eyes trained on the little girl who has already taken a bottle from his bag.
You tried taking it from her but it's too late as she poured it on your left big toe that still remained as stone. The two of you watched in wonder when it cracked and revealed your smooth skin.
You watched as your daughter crossed her index and middle fingers as she mulls over something. This scene is painfully familiar as it is also the same mannerism as her dad's when he's too deep in his work.
Like a light bulb suddenly lit up, the crease on her little brows smoothened.
"I see now. That concoction smells like nitric acid with ethanol. The place where mama and I laid had a cave that gave nitric acid from bats but it is now gone. I thought that it is one of the factors for depetrification. However, you have more bottles with it that means you have a continuous supply of those two."
Her lengthy explanation has not just amazed me but everyone around the area. Some even had their mouths hanging open.
"What the? How did she know that?"
"But she looks like she isn't even a year old!"
"Woah! That's crazy!"
You can't help but be proud as the villagers scream from disbelief. That's your daughter alright! Even if her intelligence didn't come from you. But she did came from you.
"Kukuku! You're not just an ordinary kid, right? Then answer my next question. We have no source of Nitric Acid as the cave has been destroyed. What mineral will make the production of Nitric acid possible?" He tested her with a smirk in his face.
However, your daughter also showed a similar smirk and faced him on, "Huh, easy! It would be platinum!"
He grinned and outreached his hand to her, "My name is Senku."
You see your daughter's eyes widen and you can see why. Someone who has almost the same name as her and a genius at that too?! Who wouldn't be surprised.
"Senku-niisan, I am Xenka! And that is my mother, Y/n," she introduced while pointing at me, "please let us stay here. I can help you with your work and mama can treat people. She's a nurse!"
The young man, Senku, looked at you and grinned, "Well first, you two need some clothes. Yuzuriha, take care of them,"
-------------------------------------------
It has been a few months now since you joined the Kingdom of Science. You are still at awe at how Sengku managed to build everything from scratch with the help of these young people.
It is also crazy how your daughter fits in the science team so easily. The gaps in her knowledge is easily supplied by Senku and the two grew even more closer. She really views him as her older brother. At this point, the two are inseparable. They even finish each other's sentences at times.
But the craziest of it all is that, you are now entering San Francisco California in the ship they made. You never thought that you'll go back to where you used to live. However, this is one of Senku's plan to go to the moon and you all need the corn here.
Apparently, they needed you because 1. you are a nurse and 2. you know the geography of the place- well at least from 3700 years ago. Also, your daughter has decided to go so you really had no choice.
It has been a few days since Perseus docked here. A few nights ago, Senku was shot and you have been tending him. Apparently, there's another Kingdom of Science here in America. It surprised the lot of you since they are already advanced in terms of weaponry but you believed that your team can handle it. They already have a plan to take their leader.
And now you are in a quest to find your patient who was out of his bed when you checked a few minutes ago. Little Xenka is even crying because she didn't know where her oniisan went to.
You are also silently fuming because you specifically told him to rest so his sutures won't break. Suddenly, you are being dragged. You were about to fight back (Kohaku taught you basic self-defense) but when you see the dazzling suit of the butler, yoi sighed in relief.
"Where are we going, Francois?" you asked.
"They seized their leader and we are going to escape. Senku still needs you to tend his wounds," upon hearing Senku's name, Xenka immediately stopped crying.
"I hope he's okay," she mutters while you tightened your hold on her.
"Don't worry, sweetie. We'll make sure to scold your oniisan, okay?" You tried cheering her up and it works. You wonder what's gearing up in that little big mind of hers.
The three of you made your way to a smaller boat that looked like a yacht. You guessed that they hijacked it from the enemies. Without wasting a second, you and your daughter roamed from room to room for your leek-y boy.
You and your daughter's annoyance grew the farther you searched and alas, only one cabin remained. You and Xenka looked at each other and nodded. Without further ado, you kicked the door open, startling the two people in the room. However, the two of you are focused on Senku that you didn't even realize a man was standing beside him.
"You brat! What did I say about taking a rest?! If you want to bleed badly you can just say so!" You nagged at him while Xenka pouts and glares at him.
"Xenka is upset oniisan! You said you'll never leave my side!" she said and refrained looking at the boy.
"Y-y/n?"
Suddenly, it felt like a bucket of ice-cold water is poured on you. Even thousands of years have passed, you still remember that voice. It's the one that whispered sweet words in your ear at three in the morning but broke you in the end.
"Mama? What's wrong?" You felt two warm hands touch your cheeks but your gaze snapped and remained at the other man in the room.
"Xeno," you breathed.
Suddenly, a burst of memories that you had together appeared on your mind like a broken record. The first day you met, the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, the first time you kissed and made love, and then the last time you have seen each other. You realized you had so many happy memories together but it took less than ten minutes for it to shatter.
"Y/N, I-"
"I don't want to hear it," you said and was about to go out of the room but Xenka squirmed wanting to be out down. You hesitantly obliged.
She went in front of Xeno. The two stared at each other. White hair to white hair. Black eyes to (e/c). Indeed, looking at them like this just enhanced how they look so much alike.
Xenka crossed her middle and index finger which made Xeno surprised. You know he already knows who this child is. You're even sure that Senku must have known this the moment we entered the room or even way before that.
"I see, so you're my father. Based on mama's reactions and how you're not in my life, Xenka's 10 billion percent sure that you never wanted me," her little voice broke and it made your heart clench in hurt.
"Well, if you don't want us, Mama and Xenka don't want you either!!" She screamed and ran out of the room. Without hesitation, you followed the little girl out after glaring at Xeno.
You know that your daughter is hurt right now and she needs you the most. You find her hiding in one of the lower rooms. The sight shattered your heart and you immediately went to crush her in your embrace. This only made her cry more. Even at this young age, she understands what's happening. And for the first time, you wished she's an ordinary one-year-old.
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fericita-s · 3 years
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The Princess and the Barbarian
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A Helnik tale, rated T.  As Matthias recovers from a gunshot wound, Nina tells him the story of the Princess and the Barbarian. He interrupts a lot as his Fjerdan sensibilities are bothered and the Ravkan propaganda gets to be unbearable.  Thank you @theburnbarreljester​ for beta-ing and for reminding me that we’re all here for the biting and trembling of lips.
Previous Chapters
Chapter 6
Inessa studied the landscape from the edge of the cave.  She could see endless green sloping hills, the curved slice of a river, and the rocky path that led to her place of captivity.  Her bound wrists were staked to the rocky ground of the cave and she could loosen the metal and slide out of the chains.  She usually did for the first hour the barbarian was gone each day.  But as the sun moved to the center of the sky, she knew it best to chain herself again and stay inside the wide, hard-packed confines of the cave to keep her ability to escape a secret.  He seemed to think her powers were limited to fabrics and she didn’t want to alert him on what exactly she could do.  She’d leave as soon as she knew where she was and had something better on her feet than her ruined dancing shoes.
Her best guess was that the barbarian had her in the woods near Halmhend, well into Fjerdan territory.  She’d have to cross either the Permafrost to get to Chernast or go south through the forest to Ulensk to make it back to Ravka.  If she escaped through the ice, she was likely to lose fingers or worse on the journey.  And the nightly shrieks and howls from the wolves coming from deep within the woods were enough to make her long for even the barbarian’s comfort. 
He rarely gave it.
On the first night he’d told her to stop her weeping for the dead with a harsh “The dead can’t hear you mourn but the living can.  I might not be able to save you from the wolves or my countrymen if they come in force.”  Then he’d made her burn her only remaining item of clothing and as the chemise went up in flames he’d given her his roughspun shirt. It still bore his scent even weeks later though she probably could have fabrikated that away if she wished.  It felt like armor, being surrounded by the smell of the tundra and the smoke of campfires, even the trace of his sweaty musk.  Like the volcra or the howling wolves or enemies she might find in this land would pass over her if she was disguised in his shirt and scent.  It was a small comfort, but she clung to it.  When he was off hunting or asleep she liked to run the fabric between her fingers, to run her hands underneath where the coarse material hit her thighs, not quite mourning that she’d never had a wedding night, but curious about what it would feel like for this barbarian to make her fully his.  
He stayed bare chested in the cave and Inessa studied him like works of art she’d seen at the Grand Palace.  He had cords of muscle along his arms and across his chest and his back was made up of hard planes that she surprised herself by wanting to run her hands across, to feel if Ravkan and Fjerdan bodies were made the same. 
Once he’d thrown an elk carcass at her feet and demanded she cook and clean it, but she’d retched instead.  Disgusted, he prepared the meat himself and then ate with an intensity and such a lack of decorum that Inessa stared, horrified and transfixed. He fed her too, bringing a jeweled goblet of mead to her lips and calling her “princess” in a way that was very different from the servants at Os Alta, like he was mocking her for being so useless.  
He’d spent the next few days rendering the fat and making soap, stripping and treating the hide, drying the remaining meat in long strips.  She’d watched it all without offering to help, but unable to look away from the way his arms looked while ripping bone from sinew, how the steam off of the cook fire made his long hair curl at his temple. 
The cave was primitive but did have some comforts.  She slept on what she assumed must have been his bed - a pile of furs and a hay pallet - while he slept by the entrance of the cave with his back to her. There were goblets like the one he offered her at meal times and stacks of animal pelts and barrels of mead and kvas arranged neatly against the side of the mountain.  
Every night before he moved her chains to the bed and tied her there instead of the middle of the cave he asked about the Shadow Fold.  He called her witch, he called her an abomination, he called her a privileged princess who didn’t know the havoc that such evil invited into the midst of the living. And each night she told him she had no idea how it was formed, who formed it, or how to extinguish it.  She wanted to yell “It made me a widow and an orphan! Don’t you think I know the cost?” but cried silently instead, fabrikating the furs into the same soft heaviness as her quilts in the Grand Palace.  Each morning she turned it back to fur, knowing he’d make her burn what he found changed.
She walked back into the cave and recited her daily prayers to the saints, beseeching them to safekeep her brother The Emperor and his wife and children.  To keep the volcra confined to the Shadow Fold and to banish it forever.  To see her in her suffering and give her a way to return home. 
She heard the barbarian’s heavy footsteps behind her and then his voice, angry and rough.  “What spells are you muttering, witch?”
“I’m saying prayers for my family.  I can pray for you too if you’d like.”  She turned to look at him and he scowled. 
“I’ll take none of your prayers. Only Djel is the true maker and god.”
“You were gone longer today.  Where did you go?” she asked, hoping he might mention the name of a town or a river that would help her figure out where they were, how she could leave.
“I was buying you this,” he said, throwing a bundle at her.  “You can only have it if you promise not to alter it.  No magic that would attract the volcra or widen the Shadow Fold.”
She began to unwrap the fabric strips and shook out the material inside.  “It doesn’t work like that, fabrikating doesn’t -  but then she stopped, struck by the absurdity of what he had given her.  “This is a Fjerdan dress.”
“Yes.  It is.  Because you are in Fjerda.  And because it is not proper for you to be wearing only my shirt as the days begin to turn colder.”
Inessa let one hysterical giggle leave her throat.  That was what he found improper? Her wearing his shirt?  He’d kidnapped her from her family and had her chained in a cave.  And now he wanted her to wear the dress of a Fjerdan woman.  She wished she’d studied their customs more closely, she might have been able to guess which town this was from based on the embroidered hem or the silver buttons on the sleeves. But then, another idea took form.
“If you want me in a new dress, please, let me bathe first.  It’s been weeks.”  Perhaps she could glimpse more of the terrain, gain a better understanding of where she was and how she could leave.
He looked at her for a long moment, a flicker of something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before.  “Alright.  I’ll take you to where the beavers have made a dam.”
He unchained her from the ground but kept her hands bound, which meant she stumbled as she picked her way across the rocky path.  He walked behind her, catching her under the elbow when she lost her footing and once grabbing her waist when she pitched towards the edge of the cliff.  New clothes would help her in an escape attempt, but unless she had better shoes she wouldn’t get far.
The small pond created by the dam was clear and cold and Inessa gasped as she put her foot in. “Will you unchain me? So I can bathe?”
“No.” He thrust a chunk of the elk fat soap into her hands, a hard glint in his eye.  “I will bathe you.”
She looked at him just as fiercely and then pulled his shirt over her head, shimmying awkwardly around the chains, so that she was standing bare before him with the shirt bunched up over the restraints and the tightly clutched soap.  He pulled a knife out of its sheath by his waist and cut the shirt away from her.
“I’ll burn this tonight.  Get rid of the witchy stench.”
Inessa was horrified to feel the prick of hot tears in her eyes as she stood naked in front of him, listening to the same insults he’d thrown at her daily.  She turned and walked into the water, biting her lip against the cold and then submerging herself fully, trembling as soon as she surfaced for air with her eyes closed.  She wiped at her eyes with her bound hands and then the barbarian was there, holding her head in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe the water from her eyes. 
 The water and his words were cold, but everywhere his hands touched her felt hot.  He was still warm from their walk to the dam and she could feel it radiating off of his bare chest as he ran his hands along her forearms and then her upper arms and shoulders.
“I should not have brought you here to defile these waters.  All waters feed Djel and are fed by him.  We drown witches in these waters for his glory.”   He rubbed his fingers in between hers and then scrubbed at her fingernails with his and she was acutely aware that he’d shucked his pants and boots and was as bare as she was. “But we have a saying, the water hears and understands.  The ice does not forgive.  Djel will forgive me for this transgression; it is in the service of keeping his people safe from your magic.”
“I don’t need you forgiveness, or that of the ice, either,” she snapped, shivering.  The water was icy cold and with his words came the sensation that she was being drowned in them.  
He took the soap from her and rubbed it over his hands until he formed a lather and then carefully slid his fingers under the chains around her wrists.  He scrubbed her gently and silently and she tried to control her gasping breaths by calling to mind memories of home.
“My mother’s soaps smelled of lavender,” she said and he grunted in response.  “For her evening baths.  Jasmine if it was in the morning.”  She closed her eyes again, trying to remember the scent of it, the way it felt comforting and certain.  The way it meant her mother was near and she was loved.
“Are Ravkans so dirty that they must bathe twice a day?”  Her eyes flew open and she scowled.
“You're the barbarian!  You haven’t bathed since well before you stole into Ravka, I’d wager.”  She shivered and he dropped her hand.
“I’m bathing now aren’t I?” He handed her the soap and then went under the water.  He emerged with his back to her and she watched as droplets of water ran down his back.  His long hair was dripping and darker now that it was wet and he soon had it in a lather.  He went under again then rose towards her, reaching for her chained hands and pulling her to himself.  He took the soap from her, worked to make suds, and then buried his fingers into her wet hair.  
It felt exquisite.
He scratched at her scalp and then down to the base of her neck and onto her shoulder blades, rubbing more soap along her back and down towards the curve of her bottom.  She closed her eyes again and gave herself over the sensation of being made clean as his hands explored new places: her thighs, her ankles, a palm across her breasts that made her gasp and bite her lip again.  He held her elbow as he dipped her under the water and when she emerged free of the filth and blood that had clung to her for weeks, she felt new. 
He gave her a blanket to wrap herself in and they sat on the rocks at the edge of the dam watching the dying light of the sun as it edged closer to the horizon across the vast Permafrost to the west.  They were farther east then she’d realized.  Perhaps close to Chernast.
His hair was drying quickly and he ran his hands through it, tugging at knots in the golden strands.  He looked young like this, perhaps even as young as she was.  She might have offered to braid his hair, but her hands were shaking from the cold annd her own wet hair and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if her hands were in his hair.  Strangle him?  Rub it between her fingers and press her face against it? Both seemed like a good idea.
“We leave now.  Before it gets dark.”  He pulled his clothes on but she made no movement to put on the dress he’d given her.  She definitely couldn’t manage it with the chains and even if she wasn’t chained, she’d only ever been dressed by lady’s maids.  
He turned as he finished pulling up his pants and used his chin to point to the dress.  “Put it on.”
“I can’t do it like this,” she said, raising her arms and showing him the chains.  
He was silent as he walked to her and picked up the dress, separating it into three pieces and a pair of pantalettes that fell to the ground.  He knelt down and held the layered skirts open and she stepped into them, stumbling into his chest as she lifted her leg.  Her loose, wet hair encircled his head and he drew back as if stung. He rose and then turned her so her back was to him and cinched the ties at her waist, looping them roughly into knots. Then he spun her and undid the chains around her wrists with a key from his pocket.  
“Steady now.  Put your arms through.”  He helped her into the bodice and then the woolen vest that covered it, his fingertips skimming the exposed skin at her waist before he drew the laces closed and tied them as well, his head bent over his work and inches from her chest.  
“What’s your name?” she asked, like he was a new lady’s maid and she’d have to remember his name for when they repeated this routine in the morning before a gilded mirror and a porcelain washbasin.  
“Iver.”  He picked up the pantalettes and bent down to one knee as he held them for her to step into.  She placed her hands on his shoulder.
“Thank you for the dress, Iver.  And for the bath.  My name is Inessa.”
“I know,” he said and then chained her hands once more before he stepped away from her, walking towards the path that had led them here.  “It will be dark soon.  Best leave now.”
She followed him back to the cave in silence.  He built a fire and cooked a rabbit and he asked the same question he asked every night.  And even though her answer was the same, everything changed.
“Inessa, do you know anything about the darkness that made the fold?  About the fold itself?”
“No, Iver.  I don't.”  
He looked at her across the flickering light cast by the fire and she thought of how much the shadows it cast looked like the volcra.  How the red flames looked like the bright bursts of blood she’d seen the day of the volcra attack.  He moved to her slowly and then reached for the chains at her wrists, undoing the lock and then rubbing her wrists as the heavy links fell away.  Inessa looked at his hands on hers, so large and now so gentle, and when he pulled away and stood, she wanted to reach out and draw him back down.  She wanted to touch every inch of his skin, to know the way each cell melded together, to feel him as he joined with her, to understand the making of him.
“There.  You sleep like that now,” he said, and then stalked off from the cave and into the night.
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gabby294 · 3 years
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Saudade - Chapter 2
|| Prologue || ||Chapter 1 ||
Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.
Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.
Word Count: 10k
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Helmut followed in some sort of a daze, not focusing on the turns that they took as they made their way to Selby's office, barely seeing the money that was piled up on the tables and the armed men that stood guard on seemingly every corner. No, his mind was miles away, trying to comprehend what he heard mere minutes ago.
"What the hell, man?" Sam hissed right by his ear as he overtook James. "You almost blew us."
"Apologies." Was all that he could muster up to say, looking straight ahead. What else could he really say? That for the briefest moment he thought he heard Nic's voice? That if he shut down the logical side of his brain even for a second, he would admit that's how he'd imagine she would sound like now? That he, not even seeing a woman's face fully, picked her as an example of how his girl would look like? Maybe being locked up for few years with nothing but books and solidarity brought him closer to insanity than he liked to admit.
Helmut barely heard Le Petit Homme by Edith Piaf playing over the speakers as they finally approached Selby's office. The woman in front of them turned back. Her brown eyes landed on him for the briefest second and knocked the air out of his lungs once again. Was this a trick of some sort? Power Broker trying to get under his skin, render him useless? Helmut doubted that he would care enough to go to such lengths, but there had to be an explanation. Sure, he knew that theoretically there were around seven people in the world who could look similar to Nic, but his gut instinct was sending him red signals. That this was too much of a coincidence for him to cross paths with a lookalike, in Madripoor of all places, the one time that he was looking for information himself. No, something was wrong here. He couldn't get distracted, couldn't let some lowlife distract him with the face of the dead. He spent most of his life trusting his instinct. The one time that he didn't, he spent days digging through the rocks of a collapsed building.
The woman took a couple of steps behind him, attacking his nose with a sharp, earthy scent that had just a tiniest floral undertone, and stopped in front of Sam. She invaded his space, leaving no distance between them. Helmut followed her actions with his eyes, noticing that James straightened up and he shook his head lightly in a warning. There were too many eyes watching them. She reached for Sam's neck and Helmut was nearly certain that James would lash out. He could tell by the way that he was clenching the prosthetic arm, that the man was considering it. Whatever they thought she'd do, they didn't expect for her to simply unbutton the top button and straighten his collar.
"Are you really going to make me wait for my own guests, Nic?" Selby's sweet voice almost made him jump up in surprise. He clenched his hands in the pockets of the coat, wrapping his fingers around the hard handle of the ka-bar knife he still had in his possession from the army days. A coincidence. Nicoletta, or any similar version of it, was simply a popular name. It wasn't his Nic. Definitely not the girl he buried years ago. Just one big, fat coincidence. He was even prepared to entertain the idea of it being a futile attempt by someone to distract him. In his mind, he knew that. He only needed to convince his heart that hadn't stopped racing from the moment she spoke.
"Of course not." Her voice rang out, making him inhale sharply. She ran her fingers through the suit jacket and with a smirk moved in front again. Right. There was no time for mistakes.
Nic moved out of the way, allowing Helmut to cast his eyes on Selby. She had her back turned to them, sitting comfortably on one of the couches. A power move. She was not threatened by their presence. Not that he could blame her, there were four security guards in the room alone, all holding assault rifles. No doubt more were ready to barge in at a second's notice.
"You should know, Baron. People don't just come into my bar and make demands." Selby said as she tapped her fingers against the couch. Helmut gave her a tight-lipped smile and a small nod as he moved to sit down in front of her. Two of the men stood by the wall beside them while James and Sam moved in to stand on either end of the couches.
"Not a demand. An offer." He elaborated, getting comfortable on the couch. He crossed his legs, his foot landing on the edge of the short table that was in front of him. He noticed a couple of bags lying on the table with a clear powder and a Grand Power K100 semi-automatic pistol within a hand's reach, positioned in a way that she could easily grab it. It was a cat and mouse game. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Nic walked over to the table behind Selby's couch and turned her back on them.
"A lot has changed since you were here last." She took a glance at James before turning back to him. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"
A lot of things might have changed during the years, but he could tell that she did not. All sweet and smiles, hoping that he would fall into the false sense of security that she loved to provide. That he'd spill his secrets or slip up and give a reason for her to doubt his intentions for the visit.
"People like us always find a way, don't we?" Helmut dodged her question raising his hands in a shrug. The more that he could get away with leading her in circles, the better. "I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."
His smile faltered ever so slightly as Nic came back in the view, moving past James to sit down on the couch. She had taken off her mask. He blinked twice to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks with him. Sure he had moments during his imprisonment, in the dead of night where he had nothing but his own mind to keep him company. Moments where he could almost imagine Ivana's soft touch against his face and see his children in a flash between one moment and the next. If he concentrated enough, he could've heard their voices. But this was different. This was too real to be a figment of his imagination, no matter how vivid it could be. Whoever she was, she looked identical to his Nic.
He bit inside his cheek, irritating his mouth even more as Nic planted herself beside Selby and mimicked her pose. It was so much harder to keep his composure when she was right in front of him, watching his every move with those same shade of brown eyes that Ivana had.
With her sitting opposite of him, he had a chance to take a closer look at her. The chopped off blonde hair barely reached her shoulders. Unlike the majority of the people in the bar, she did not wear makeup or attire suitable for such a place. Instead, she wore a pair of jeans, a high collared crop top, and a rust-colored leather jacket with a hood.
Swallowing he looked back at Selby, determined to keep his attention to her. He was after the information that she had, he needed to concentrate on that. Not on the hypotheticals.
"So many people with offers and deals these days." She grinned, moving her hand to rest on Nic's shoulder. "Like this one. Promised to look over the bar for a good sum and yet did nothing but drink while your friend had fun trashing it. I feel cheated really."
"The agreement was for me to look over the bar. Not to fight for it. There's a difference…I think." Nic deadpanned but didn't move to get the hand off her. Helmut could feel her gaze burning holes in his skin. He readjusted his pose ever so slightly, hoping to get rid of the feeling entirely if he moved a couple of muscles. It didn't work.
"Funny thing aren't you." Selby chuckled and leaned to grab one of the small packets off the table. "Be a dear and make yourself useful. Our friends in Azimut are offering a share for B163.9. I think they're blowing smoke up my eyes but I was in a good mood that day. Tell me what you think."
Helmut clenched his jaw and shared a glance with James. The longer they stayed, the more difficult it would become to maintain their cover. The opening snap of the bag brought everyone's attention back to Nic. She shifted in her seat, pulling a key out of her pocket.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what she would do next. Helmut cleared his throat and picked different points of interest to look at around the office. He resisted the urge to shift more in his seat or start tapping his fingers. Whatever the young woman was, his stomach rebelled at the thought of watching her snort the powder. Her appearance alone was too close for him to clearly draw the line and separate the two girls. It didn't matter that his Nic would never reach the age this woman in front of him was, would never end up in a sleazy office in Madripoor, snorting God knows what. It didn't stop his blood from freezing in place and a massive pit forming in his stomach.
Helmut settled on looking at Selby instead. He had to concentrate on her or else he wasn't sure if he could keep the content of his stomach in place. It was too similar, too close to home for his mind not to start messing with him with the 'what if' scenarios.
The ride home was dead silent. Helmut was sure that if he clenched the wheel any harder, the leather surrounding it would rip and break. The bright beam-lights of Ivana 's Range Rover Evoque lit up the road in front of him as he sped through the empty streets. He was grateful that there was no other cars around as he wasn't completely sure that he wouldn't murder someone on the spot given the chance.
"Daddy?" Nic pulled his attention from the countless racing thoughts in his head.
"Hmm?" He frowned and tilted his head towards her, not taking his eyes off the road. He needed to concentrate on something else.
"Are you mad?"
"No." Sometimes you had to lie to your children to protect them. He was quite familiar with that concept. Certain matters were best kept hidden. Truths of what his job really entailed, the rumors of human experimentation in outside city facilities, reasons why their country was always on a brink of war or governmental collapse. So what was a small lie about how he felt compared to the never-ending list of half-truths and outright lies he told?
"Are you sure?"
"Don't close your eyes. You'll only make yourself dizzy." He changed the subject instead. He cast a glance at her curled up on the seat and with a sigh, placed his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it in a warning. The last thing he needed was her freaking out if she started to feel sick.
Helmut had only needed to take one glance at her and instinctively know that it wasn 't just alcohol running through her system. He didn't need proper lighting to know her pupils were still blown out of proportion or look at the way she grounded her jaw to confirm his suspicion.
"I feel sick."
"I bet you do," He muttered under his breath, too low for her to hear. Nonetheless, he pressed down gently on the brakes bringing the car to a smooth stop. "Let's get you some air."
Nic clumsily reached for the door handle and pulled it hard enough that it slipped from her grip and made a loud noise sliding back in place. It took her few tries to actually pry the doors open.
Hearing the door shut, he closed his eyes and leaned further into his seat. Dragging his hand over his face did very little to help him relax the tension that slipped into his bones ever since he answered her call. He could already feel the beginning of a migraine forming.
Helmut sighed deeply and unclipped his seatbelt. He couldn 't let her leave his eyesight for too long. Who the hell knew what she could think of doing in the drug-induced mind. Clearly, there wasn't much thinking involved that got her in this state in the first place. He had to swallow the urge to demand for answers that she most likely would not be able to think of. 'Later', he had to remind himself. They needed to get home first.
Helmut walked around the car from the back and found her sitting on the gravel with knees pulled to her chest. Even with his jacket over whatever it was that she was wearing, she was barely covered. He had no doubt that the gravel that dug into her skin would be painful tomorrow. God, that was never how he wanted to see her.
Slowly crouching down, he put his hand on her shoulder again, feeling it shake under his touch. He brought his other hand into her hair, and stroked it lightly, in an attempt to calm her down. Of course, she ended up freaking herself out. That was what tended to happen when you didn 't think your actions through. Hearing her breath hitch, he forced any emotion he might have felt to leave his voice and moved in closer, dropping down to one of his knees. The gravel was a bitch.
"You're fine. Look at me," He moved his hands to cup her face, tapping her cheek lightly to keep her attention on him for long enough to calm down. "You're okay. Don't work yourself up. It will pass."
She gripped his shirt and lurched herself into his chest, almost knocking him backward. Grunting lightly, he wrapped his arms around her shaking form and let her destroy his shirt with makeup, tears, and snot.
"Come on, mom is waiting for us at home." He encouraged her softly and kissed the side of her head. "I'm sure she has some tea ready for us. That sound good?"
He felt her nod against him and waited a couple of moments before pulling away.
Getting her inside and not waking the entire house was another feat. It seemed that she was hellbent on being as loud as humanly possible. Even with him supporting most of her weight, she found ways to almost trip or knock something off.
"Hey," Ivana greeted them as she stepped from the kitchen into the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of them. "Whoa."
"Mom!" Nic half screamed into his ear, making him wince in pain.
"Nic!" He hissed in warning. He was this close to snapping entirely. "Carl is asleep, don't be loud."
She turned and looked at him with a wobbly lip and eyes sparkling with tears. Helmut swallowed, feeling the pang of guilt pass him. No, he had no reason to feel guilty. But just because he knew something logically didn 't mean that her expression didn't pierce through his heart.
"Here, I'll put her to bed," Ivana interrupted approaching them and wrapping one of Nic's arms around her shoulder, taking some of the weight off him. "You take a breath."
"I'm fine." He bit out harsher than he meant. Taking a breath in, he glanced at them. "Give a shout if you need help."
It took him longer than a moment to actually let go fully and let Ivana take over. Rubbing his neck, he walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom and dug through the drawers of his bedside table until he found a half-full packet of cigarette carton with a lighter shoved inside.
He took it and walked out into the balcony, leaving the door half-open behind him. He closed his eyes as he brought the bud to his lips and inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs. Only then could he feel his shoulders releasing some of the tension that he carried. He eventually reopened his eyes, not really looking at anything.
"You're smoking." Helmut eventually heard Ivana behind him but didn't turn to her. At least she didn't sound annoyed.
"Yeah," He mumbled as she joined him and leaned against the railing. "I'll take a shower before I come back to bed."
"I'll let it pass for tonight." She looked him up and down and slightly arched her eyebrow. "Although, do make sure you throw that shirt into a wash. I don't even want to know what's on it."
Helmut could tell she was trying to lighten up his mood but he wasn't sure it was possible at that minute. There were too many emotions swirling under the surface. He wasn't a stranger to saying something in a heat of a moment and then regretting it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Half of their early arguments as a new couple consisted of that. So he kept his mouth shut until he got himself under control. Ivana understood his needs, sometimes more than he did himself, and let him brood in his own misery until he finished his first cigarette and tossed it away.
He sighed deeply and finally turned his head to look at her. She stood beside him in a rich blue, silk dressing gown and some fluffy slippers. For a moment he wondered if it wasn't too cold to stand on a balcony in the middle of the night. A twinge of guilt passed through him. He didn't want his own restlessness to make her cold.
"Am I away from home that often? Going through abandoned bunkers, this. Is this some sort of cry for help or attention? What else don't I know? She secretly dating a fifty-year-old man too?" He pondered, the words rolling off his tongue the moment he opened his mouth. Perhaps he opened his mouth too soon. He stretched out his arm, going for the carton that he threw to the side but she blocked it and took his hand in her own instead.
"She messed up." Ivana agreed quietly, rubbing her fingers against his knuckles.
"She's fifteen, lied where she was, drank and got high off her rockets. I think it constitutes more than just a mess up." He barked out. Fuck. He needed another cigarette.
Untangling his hand free of her hold, this time she didn't stop him as he reached for the carton and pulled out another cigarette before lighting it up again. After a couple of moments of silence, he swapped hands and extended his left for her to hold again. He needed something to ground him.
"I'm not disagreeing with you, love." She reminded him, lacing their fingers together. "But she did call you when she felt unsafe. That counts for something."
"So what? We should congratulate her on making a single sane decision in the mess that she created herself?"
"No one is saying that, Helmut. But maybe you are being a bit too harsh," Ivana said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He leaned further against the turning in their balcony, exhaling harshly the smoke out of his chest, causing his throat to burn. "She is a teenager after all. They are not exactly known for making the best choices."
"I'm not too hard on her. If anything, I'm clearly not hard enough on her. Hell if I called my father after pulling these kinds of stunts he would have skinned me alive for disrespecting the family name."
"I'd rather have our daughter mess up and know she can call us than her hiding out god knows where out of fear." She chastised him, her tone hardening. It snapped him out of his tirade long enough to realize the implications of what he said.
"My apologies," He lowered his head in shame at even the notion of it. "It wasn't what I intended to say."
"I have been by your side long enough to know what you mean and don't mean. I know you're angry."
"Of course I'm angry. You didn't see her in that dingy bathroom with skimpy clothes, eyes blown wide. It wasn't just some weed she smoked, that's for sure. Besides where did she even pick up such clothes?" Even talking about it made his skin crawl with dread. He brought the cigarette to his mouth yet again, needing the calm. Chain-smoking was a habit that he picked up years ago all the way back when he was just a private, and needed nicotine in stressful situations. This definitely constituted a stressful situation.
Ivana didn't respond, just kept rubbing his shoulder. Her lack of anger was starting to get under his skin. Almost made him feel like he was in the wrong. He wasn't, not this time.
"Why aren't you angry?" He finally asked.
"Of course I'm angry Helmut, I'm furious. But right now, Nic is in bed and you need me more."
Her words, spoken with such gentleness, forced him to turn to her and really look at her. Here she was, in the middle of the night, listening to his ramblings and quietening down all his inner turmoils. What would he ever do without her? There was no way in hell he ever deserved her.
He clenched his jaw a couple of times as he tried to find the words to somehow justify his behavior. To justify the tornado of rage and absolute fear that swirled inside him. In the end, he settled on:
"A girl died a week ago, overdosing on shit like this."
"I know."
"All I can imagine is that being her," He sighed, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it out of his head. It was like the idea itself tried to choke the life out of him. "Of getting a call like that in the middle of the night. Instead of the one we got tonight. I can't. I really can't."
Ivana sighed and wrapped her arms around him, stepping on her tippy toes to land her chin on his shoulder. "We won't. You know we won't. She made a mistake and she is sorry about it. We'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Together."
Helmut felt her fingers slowly run through his hair, easing some pressure off his chest. Not enough to let it go entirely, but just enough for him to feel like he could go back inside.
"Well, she's a sad drunk just like you. That's for sure." His attempt to finally lighten the mood felt flat even to his own ears. Nevertheless, she chuckled and slapped his chest lightly in a warning.
"Watch yourself. One more comment and I'll have you sleeping on the couch." She smiled and turned to go back inside but he tugged her back into his hold before she had a chance.
"I love you." He told her, meaning every word. He loved her, truly. He doubted that he would ever find enough words to express just how much he adored her.
"And I love you. Now come on, let's go back to bed. You can be mad at her tomorrow." She took his hand and pulled him back inside their room.
"You go ahead, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
"You better." She pointed a finger at him. "And seriously, lose the shirt. Preferably into the trash. It's disgusting."
For once he didn't disagree with her opinion on clothes. He doubted he would ever be able to get the stains and the stench out of the material.
"Nothing special for the price. I'd go for the Stironium that Joy offers. Basically the same thing but cheaper. " Nic's voice snapped him back to reality. Swallowing, he spared a glance at her, half expecting her to look drugged up. He didn't delude himself, knowing where he was. Narcotics in Madripoor hit a completely different level. It was more like a ticking Russian Roulette. You were considered lucky if you were alive by the morning.
To his surprise, the woman didn't even look dazed let alone under the influence. That was…an interesting piece of information to know.
"I knew it," Selby sighed and nodded to one of the men who promptly left the office. Her attention returned to him. "What was your offer again?"
"Tell us what you know about the Super-Soldier serum." Helmut proposed and stood up. He circled behind James, touching him just enough to show that he was the one in control. As expected, James did not move or wince as he trailed his hands down his face. "And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want."
"Now that's the Zemo I remember." Selby gleamed at the prospect of his offer. Helmut nodded, pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right."
With his job of selling the bait complete, he returned to his seat. He nodded in thanks as Nic moved her legs out of his way.
"The Super-Soldier Serum is here in Madripoor. You're looking at one example right in front of you." Selby confirmed his speculation and pointed at Nic lazily.
Helmut struggled briefly to keep his face straight. The woman in front of him did not look like a Super Soldier, if anything she looked very much like a regular person. Well, as normal as a person could be when they looked older version of someone else. But human. Nothing like the ones that he killed in Siberia.
Besides, Selby looked eager when he offered up James. Why would she want him if she already had a Super Soldier working for her? He supposed James was pretty handsome for a man but he doubted that she would be interested in him that way. The Selby he knew was always interested in finding use out of a situation or a person, not to take a personal interest.
Too many things weren't adding up.
"Doctor Nigel is the man you want to thank or condemn," Selby released a dramatic sigh, cocking her head to the side. "Depending on what side of this you're on."
"She's your pet?" Helmut asked curiously. He had so many questions about this Nic, but couldn't ask any of them without giving himself away.
"In a way. Power Broker's toy. Such a pretty thing, lethal too if you can afford her." The way she said, with such glee, made a shiver go down his back. She cast her eyes at Sam. "you know all about that don't you, Smiling Tiger?"
"Don't need to tell me." Sam mustered up all could in sounding confident for which Helmut was thankful. But Selby didn't seem to want to let up.
"You're taller than I'd heard."
"It's the shoes." Nic intervened and loosely crossed her arms, kicking up her foot against his couch. If he didn't know better he would say that it was a subtle attempt to lock him in his place. Was she playing something? He couldn't figure out her angle. Not yet, anyway.
"You had plenty of business with him didn't you?" Selby raised her eyebrow at Nic who merely nodded. "Can you confirm it's him?"
Helmut stiffened up, slowly moving his hand closer to his pockets, ready for a fight. He wondered if he would be able to grab the gun off the table quicker than Selby. Any moment now, their cover would be blown. He doubted the security would hesitate in shooting them. Nic stood up and slowly walked over from the couch to Sam. She circled around him like a cheetah ready to play with her food before devouring it.
She walked right up to Sam until there was almost no space between them and looked up. Helmut was ready to pray to the God he had long abandoned if it kept Sam from blowing their cover by stepping back. They were so close to knowing what they needed, it would be nice if they could leave this place without being shoved inside a body bag. He watched with a bated breath as she tilted her head and clicked her tongue.
"Oh, it's him."
Helmut was not expecting that. He looked up to James who also wore a similar expression of surprise. She was covering for them? Why? He doubted she really believed Sam to be Conrad Mack, she gave them more than enough indication that she suspected at least something.
"Good." Selby flashed her teeth as she turned to Helmut. "Had to ask. Too many fakes running around ever since the Blip."
Yeah, like the one sitting right in front of him who just lied about the identity of the Smiling Tiger.
"The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn't go as planned."
"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?"
"Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you." Selby teased him, raising up. "And before you get all cute, don't think you can find Nagel without me."
Helmut pursed his lips. She was right, people like him loved to hide out in the dark, work off-grid in their own little dungeons. He despised the Frankenstein wannabes, too deluded in their own ideals to see the lines that shouldn't be crossed.
Selby just about passed by Sam when a sudden buzzing noise brought the office to a standstill. It appeared that everyone held in their breath as the vibration rang out again. All eyes turned to Sam who dug into his jacket to retrieve his phone.
Fuck. Fuck. Did he seriously not turn off his phone? Helmut looked away exasperated and his eyes landed on Nic just in time to see her stiffened in her seat and clench her jaw. If Sam blew their cover and Selby realized that she covered for them, for whatever reason, she'd be just in as much hot water as they would.
In conclusion, this was very bad for all of them.
"Answer it. On speaker." Selby ordered as the phone continued to vibrate in Sam's hand. James moved behind Selby as the guards stepped up closer to Sam. Helmut glanced around the place, looking for any possible exit routes or what they could use to defend themselves. If they were ever going to get out of here alive, he was going to feed him nothing but expired food, that was for sure. Did he really need to spell it out for them every little precaution when going into a bad place? What kind of moron didn't turn off his ring tone when going undercover?
"Hello?" Sam answered.
"Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It's been drivin' me nuts."
"What situation exactly are you talkin' about?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nic move to the center of the couch as she watched the interaction.
"Are you high? You know what situation, it's the only situation me and you have."
Their eyes met as Nic reached for the gun on the table while everyone's attention was focused on Sam and put it in the inside pocket of her jacket before leaning back. She continued to watch him with a cold gaze as she ran her hand through the right side of her face and settled her fingers over her mouth.
He barely heard it. Perhaps he even imagined it happening at all. Maybe she simply coughed. But at that moment, he was certain that she uttered 'grasshopper' in Sokovian.
The call, Sam, Selby; they all became muted. Mere background noise as his whole body froze up on the spot. There was ringing in his ears. Or was it his own heartbeat that was banging against his eardrums? He wasn't sure. A sudden chill swept through him as if a cold wind cut through his skin. The word was not meant for him. He most likely was not even meant to hear it in the first place.
His brain screamed at him to snap out of it. To get himself back in order before he was riddled with bullets. But even blinking felt like an impossible feat. How was he meant to pay attention to what was going on around him? A fleeting, treasonous, thought crossed his mind. Did it even matter if he ended up with a bullet in his head before he had a chance to fight back? No. He still had a job to do. He needed to finish it before he gave in any temptation.
"If that was the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"
It felt like forever when he finally zoned back into his surroundings. Right. Sam was about to blow their cover. This woman in front of him was or at least knew Sokovian while looking like his daughter. James did what he did best, and stared at Sam.
Wait. Who was she talking to? Was she wired? Who the hell was on the other end?
Helmut tilted his head ever so slightly as Selby walked behind him. From experience, he did not enjoy someone standing behind when he was not in control of the room. Even now, it made his skin crawl with dread. She was circling them like they were the prey.
"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed."
"Cass! What'd I tell you about the Cheerios?" Helmut inhaled sharply. They were done. "I don't have time for this! Sam, I'm sorry. I'll call you back."
The pressure in the air dropped. Selby raised her eyebrow, surprised.
"Sam? Who's Sam?"
"Now." Nic hissed out at the same time as Selby shouted "Kill them!"
Nic ripped the pistol out of her jacket and jumped up. She aimed and pulled the trigger. The sound of that first bullet leaving the chamber pierced through his eardrums. Multiple shots followed, as well as a window shattering into millions of shards. A man in the very back of the office dropped with dead weight.
The second's hesitation, the shock of surprise that passed through the guards, gave just enough time for Sam and James to overpower them. Helmut leaped from his seat as they fought for the weapons, there was no moment to waste.
Nic jumped over the corner of the couch to the table. Slapping the mask over her face she pulled the table apart. By the time that everyone was either knocked out or dead, she had thrown a backpack over her shoulders and secured it over her chest.
James pointed the gun as the doors to the office opened.
"Whoa." A woman with glasses entered the office. It took her one look inside to raise her hands up in surrender. "Wait I-"
"Nothing personal, it's just business." Nic responded and pulled the trigger before James could.
"They're gonna pin this on us," Sam informed them as he looked at Helmut. As if he didn't know that himself.
"We have a real problem now," He sighed thinking of what they could do. Maybe if they managed to sneak out unnoticed, they'd have just enough time to hide out and eventually get out of Low Town. It was their best chance. "so leave your weapons and follow my lead."
"We have roughly two minutes before every single mercenary gets an alert for a bounty. She was on the no kill list." Nic briefed them as she walked over to them with a phone in hand.
"Two minutes?" Helmut couldn't help but smirk. "A lot can be done in two minutes."
=====
By the time they made it to the streets and turned a corner, Nic's phone chimed up.
"We are about to have a lot of company," Nic called out and held up her phone. It had two notifications:
Messenger | now.
'Selby dead. B1k BOUNTY for her killers.'
Veron | now.
'58324 Ridge Tow. 7 minutes.'
Helmut would have loved to ask about the second message if they weren't about to become biggest practice targets to about every single lowlife in the city.
"What's the plan now?" James bit out as they marched down the street. More and more phones chimed up. Eyes followed their every move.
"Follow me and you might stand a chance," Nic replied, pulling a hood over her head.
"How do we know you're not just going to shoot us? You just said Selby was on the no-kill list and you shot her."
"Oh, you don't. But I am your only hope of staying alive."
"This is not good," Helmut warned, he could see the bystanders arming themselves. They had no choice but to place their trust in her.
The street light went out underneath them and a man pointed a gun at them. Shots rang out behind them.
"Through here," Nic shouted, ducking from the fire. She took a sharp turn behind a parked van that Helmut barely managed not to miss. They sprinted through a small alleyway in between the buildings.
"Why are you helping us?" He called out as they passed yet another turn, barely keeping up with her.
"An interested party is paying a lot of money to keep you alive." She responded and slowed down ever so slightly. As if she noticed that he couldn't keep up with a Super-Soldier speed. She frowned looking behind him. "Are your friends able to follow any basic instructions?"
Helmut looked back as well. Sam and James were nowhere to be seen.
"Not particularly." He sighed, shrugging. "Who is this interested party?"
She did not reply to him. Instead, she tapped her right ear as she held the pistol and slowly walked over to the end of the alleyway.
"We have a problem." She snapped into what he assumed was an earpiece.
"Oh?"
"Forty seconds."
Wordlessly she passed her gun to him and pulled out a blade that he could not recognize in the dim light. She moved out of the alleyway into the open. He followed suit with the gun raised but had no time to see where she ran off to.
Helmut aimed at whoever stood in front of him just as Sam and James cut the corner and appeared into the view. The goon dropped dead before he could pull the trigger. Startled, he squinted to see where the shot came from.
He turned at the sound of motorbikes approaching them. Another shot rang out, right as Nic popped out and dragged the goon off the bike to the floor. He did not rise again.
"You seem to have a guardian angel." Helmut broke the silence, surprised, as he walked up to them.
"Well, this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo." A voice behind him made him jump and turn around. With the gun in his face, he had no choice but to bend down and slowly put the gun on the floor.
"Sharon?" James faltered, recognizing her. He knew her. A friend?
"You cost me everything." The woman, Sharon, growled at him with the gun still pointed to him. Helmut cocked his eyebrow. Did he? He could not recall ever meeting her before. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.
"Sharon, wait." Sam interjected, stepping closer to him. "Someone recreated the Super-Soldier serum and Zemo had a lead."
He was defending him? How sweet. Helmut would have made a witty comment if his life wasn't hanging by a thread. He turned his head to see Nic walking up to them from behind. The knife that she carried had spots of blood on it.
Helmut swallowed nervously. The woman in front of him clearly held a grudge against him and the woman behind him, well he had not the slightest idea what she wanted. Who was to say that they weren't about to end his existence at a moment's notice.
"That explains why you guys are here. And Selby's dead." She gave a pointed look at Nic who just shrugged.
"In my defense, this one did not think to turn off his phone."
"So what are you doing here?" Sam asked, changing the attention away from himself. Helmut wondered if he was embarrassed that he forgot to do such a basic task. He hoped that he was.
"I stole Steve's shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save him from him. I didn't have the Avengers to back me up. So I'm off the grid in Madripoor." Oh. So that's why she didn't like him. Even though it was hardly his fault.
"Don't blow smoke. I was on the run, too."
"Was. Is. Big difference. I don't speak to my family anymore. I can't. My own father doesn't know where I am."
Helmut looked around uncomfortably. He didn't particularly care about their reunion. Especially when they were still out on the open and could be spotted at any moment.
"Listen… Sharon, we need your help." James said, causing the woman to chuckle.
"Please." He added for the good measure.
Sharon sighed and looked behind them where Nic stood around.
"You alright?"
"Never been better," Nic called out. Even with his back turned to her, he could tell she was smirking.
"This isn't over. I have a place in High Town. You'll be safe there for a while."
Helmut shared a look with Sam and James and nodded. Getting a ride to High Town would be safer for them than navigating their way back to the safe house themselves. The bounty on their heads would not go away anytime soon.
"I'll follow by." Nic nodded to them and walked over to the motorbikes that sat empty. Kicking one of the bodies out of her way, she turned on the engine.
Helmut intended to trail behind them but Sam grabbed his shoulder and roughly moved him to the front, preventing him from seeing Nic take off. He still had so many questions and about zero answers when it came to her. Not knowing something was not his style.
The ride from Low Town was just as quiet but more relaxing than their last one. He imagined that having company that did not try to kill them at any chance they got helped.
Glancing at the side mirror, he saw that a single motorbike was close, trailing behind them.
"Your friend," Helmut opened his mouth, hoping to get even a grain of information. "Nic. Who-"
"Shut up, Zemo." Sam snarled from the back as he leaned into the seat's headrest and closed his eyes.
Helmut raised an eyebrow watching him through the rear mirror. At first, he assumed that the hostility was from the adrenaline of having a whole town trying to feed them bullets. But enough time passed for them to settle down and take a breath in. So there had to be another reason for the snappiness.
Helmut racked his brain through the day's events that would result in such behavior. He had to admit a lot did occur in the space of the twenty-four hours.
Oh?
Perhaps his intuition was correct and there was something going on between these two men. It would definitely explain the constant staring at each other. If he was right, he could imagine that Sam did not take lightly at the prospect of him trying to sell off James. Not that he actually wanted or planned to do it. He had hoped it would not come to that point anyway. James was much more useful to have around than not.
====
Their car pulled in front of a gated building that was surrounded by guards. Helmut had to admit, he was impressed. Not many people would be able to afford such a place, especially in High Town. He followed closely behind Sharon as they walked inside.
The inside was as over the top and sleek as he imagined it would be. They passed through numerous paintings that he had no doubt were the real copies and other artifacts. So she was a hustler then.
"Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well." Sam chuckled looking around.
"I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I'll get for a real Monet?" Sharon explained, leading them further in.
"Also it helps that a lot of high-paying idiots do not realize the real value of art and are willing to overpay," Nic added passing them all.
"Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets."
"No. She means real." Helmut interjected, having some experience with places like these. Ivana had picked Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 by Marcel Duchamp to hang in their living room by the fireplace. "This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics."
"It's true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this." Even James reaffirmed their point.
"Okay, guys, I see what you're doing. You're more worldly than good old Sam." Sam rolled his eyes and proceeded to Google it.
"Yeah. What's Google say?" James asked sarcastically.
"No shit."
Helmut glanced at them. They fell behind, referring to bicker with each other than to follow them. Definitely had to be fucking.
"Come on. You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour." Sharon sighed exasperated.
====
Helmut helped himself to the open bar while James and Sam tried to pick what to wear for the evening. There was no way he would exchange the comfort of his own clothes to whatever Sharon had in stock. He already looked the part anyway. It was one of the many advantages of having a good taste in fashion.
Nic apparently had a similar idea as she threw the backpack by James and joined him at the bar. Wordlessly, Helmut passed her a glass and proceeded to pour himself a good amount of scotch. He would need a lot of it if he even wanted to begin to untangle the mess. Ignoring her existence seemed to be the easier option at the moment.
"Much better." Sharon made a comment as she passed Sam who kept changing his mind on what shirt to wear. His indecisiveness started to grate on Helmut's nerves. Even he didn't take this long to choose a shirt and he was called a fashion diva on numerous occasions.
Sharon sat down beside James and took the bag on her lap. She unzipped it and looked up at Nic with a grin.
"You think you can push it?"
"I know I can." Nic replied smugly and rose the glass to her mouth.
"Hold up," Sam interrupted turning to them with a simple turtle neck in his arms. Helmut crinkled his nose. Really? All this time for a plain turtleneck? "What exactly do you do? Cause you are sending mixed messages with the killing and saving our asses."
"I do whatever you can afford me to do." Nic grinned and looked him up and down as if to make a point. Helmut cringed at the suggestive tone of her voice. It made him uncomfortable to even think of what it could entail. Whether she did look like his daughter or not, it felt wrong. He doubted she was much older than twenty. Practically a kid.
Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, getting a similar image as he did.
"So what?" He asked Sharon, putting the shirt over his head. "You have a lot of people that need to be murdered on your list?"
"Oh, no." Sharon chuckled. "We're friends. I just buy her out whenever I can to mostly chill. Her being able to sell crap to others on the side are just an added bonus."
"Who is the Power Broker now?" Helmut asked as he held the glass in his hands. He doubted it was the same person from when he dealt with him. People in places like Madripoor usually did not reach pension age.
"Depend on which division you want to talk to." Sharon shrugged. "It's not a single entity anymore but more like a big umbrella organization. Even then, you don't really know who you speak to. Suppose it's easier to hold on to power that way."
"You seem like you know a lot about how this place operates. What's going on, Sharon? You don't ever wanna come back home?" Sam frowned, sitting down on the couch opposite of her.
"They'll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn't allow extradition." Sharon sighed, standing up and walking over to another table to pick something up. Helmut watched her, noticing that she did not sit in one place for too long. Interesting. He wondered for a second if perhaps she had some form of ADHD or if it was just her body language betraying discomfort.
"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call, but after The Blip and the chaos, I just…"
"Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."
"He knows. And not so deep down." Helmut commented, bringing everyone's attention to him. He raised his glass in fake salute.
"By the way, how is the new Cap?"
"He sounds annoying." Nic interjected. She raised her eyebrow as he looked up at her. "What? It's Madripoor, not a cave. We do keep up with international news."
"Don't get me started." James grumbled, turning his head away.
"Please." Sharon scoffed, settling down beside James again. "You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend."
Well, that was offensive. To both him and James.
"Wow. She's kind of awful now." James bit out dryly.
"You get used to it." Nic retorted as she poured herself another drink.
"Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum." Sam spoke, playing with his collar. Either the scotch was really good or the day was getting to him, but if Sam kept messing with his attire one more time he wasn't sure he will be able to control himself enough not to strangle him.
Perhaps he was still annoyed at Sam for not turning off his phone.
"You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety."
"We know it's a risk, but we won't leave until we find the one who cracked the code."
"We got a name. Wilfred Nagel." James added.
Sharon shared a look with Nic before rising once again.
"Nagel works for the Power Broker."
Helmut moved out of her way the moment he saw her walk in his direction. He glanced at the empty seat by a glass table and chose to sit there. It was close enough that he could still see them. The only downside was that Nic was directly in his sight now. With no imminent danger to his life, it was harder to concentrate on other matters and not let his mind run miles away. The longer he looked at her, the more exhausted he felt. Weariness seeped into his bones. He focused on the glass in his hands, running his fingertips through the golden strip.
"We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared."
"You haggling with my life?"
"Not like that."
Helmut frowned. He didn't particularly care for their conversation. Or whether Sharon cleared her name. He was itching to get out, preferably as far away from Nic as possible. Maybe he could drink himself stupid until he forgot ever meeting her. Or until he started to believe that it was just his mind playing tricks on him and he simply slapped Nic's face over someone who shared her name.
That was going to take a lot of alcohol. It had been years since the last time that he got so drunk he passed out. Ironically, alcohol never made him forget, if anything it made the noise in his head so much louder.
He stopped paying attention to their conversation. It became a background noise as he zoned out. Even the glass that he kept staring at blurred away.
"I don't buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name."
"Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you're right. What happened to you. But I'm willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he's met."
"I heard that."
"I don't trust charity."
A pair of boots in his vision snapped him back. He blinked and looked up to see Nic standing in front of him.
"Sorry. Kind of need that." She pointed at the chest that was on the table.
"Of course." He gave her a polite smile and moved his chair to the side so she could grab it.
He gulped as the perfume hit his senses again. It felt weird. Wrong. His Nic always stole Ivana's perfumes that had some sweet combination of coconut, vanilla and touch of floral notes. She had a habit of spraying just a touch too much.
This was too harsh of a scent on her.
Not her. A stranger. Nic was dead. He should not compare how this woman smelled to how she used to. He had no business judging.
His eyes followed her as she walked off with the chest in her arm as if it weighed nothing and stopped by the stairs.
Sharon put her drink down with thud and straightened up.
"Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I'll see what I can find."
"Trouble." Helmut blurted out sarcastically and shrugged. He watched as the two women climbed up the stairs and left his sight.
"She means you." Sam gave him a pointed look.
"Why is she mad at me again?" Helmut asked as he got up and moved back to the yellow couches. Sam sat down beside James with a drink in hand. They had some time to kill before the party began.
"You don't remember?" Sam scoffed into his drink.
"Sam, if I tried to remember every single person that I may or may not have inconvenienced directly or indirectly, it would be a very long list and we'd spend a long time sitting around."
"Can't believe I'm saying this again. But it's not the time for arguments." James groaned out and let his head fall onto the back of the couch, almost like the idea itself was paining him.
"Alright. But I swear to God if you even move out of our sight for one second. I will send your ass right back to jail before you can make some stupid remark."
"I have no intention of inconveniencing you that much." Helmut smirked. "But be my guest and enjoy the party, I'm simply going to observe some individuals. No tricks."
"No. See, if we are doing this," Sam protested pointing to the three of them. "We need to know that you are not going to stab us in the back the first chance you get. So you gotta be honest with us, and tell us what the hell you're playing at."
"I told you before, I'm here to end the Super Soldiers serum. Nothing more, nothing less." Seeing the doubt on their faces, Helmut sighed in defeat. "And also figure out who the hell the woman your friend hanging out with is."
"You suspect she isn't just Sharon's friend." James guessed, crossing his arms as he stared at him.
Helmut threw back the glass, swallowing the last of it's contents. With the familiar burn that went down his throat, he pulled out his phone from the inside of his jacket and unlocked it. It didn't take long to search up his personal ICloud storage and enter the password. His phone lit up with multiple folders of pictures and documents that he had on his old phone. He clicked on the 'Pictures' folder, somewhat grateful that the contents of it were grouped by dates and had random strings of letters for its names instead of the actual pictures itself. It wasn't something he could deal with today.'Or ever' his mind supplied ever so helpfully.
He didn't need to scroll far to find the pictures dated back to February 2015. Mainly because he stopped taking pictures past May 2015.
In that February, he managed to pull enough strings with his Lieutenant General to get a couple of weeks off at the same time that Nic and Carl had holidays off school. Ivana wanted to go to Switzerland for the ski season while he wanted to go somewhere warm. After a few days of deliberation, they settled on and ended up flying out to Barbados for couple of days.
Helmut hesitated. It had been years since he saw their faces. Dread settled in his gut as he pressed to open the pictures. He did not give himself enough time to look at the pictures. Just tiniest of flashes as he scrolled through the few landscape shots before he found a picture where Nic was in it.
"This was my daughter, Nic," He told them, raising his phone away from himself and for them to see. "Looks familiar?"
Ivana had her arms wrapped around Nic's shoulders while Nic made a face at the camera. In the picture, Nic was with a mess of brown, wet curls that dropped down her back. She was younger, scrawnier, still with some baby fat in her cheeks but it was impossible not to see the similarities between the girl in the picture and the woman that they just met today. Apart from the haircut and the years, they were identical.
"Oh shit." Sam swore, zooming into the picture.
"Any chance it is her?" James asked looking up from the phone to him.
"I buried what was left of her years ago James. Collapsed buildings and flying ruble do not leave much behind." Helmut clenched his jaw. "But I am pretty certain that it is impossible."
"So either it's the biggest coincidence in the world that we met someone with exactly the same looks and name or either someone is behind this." Sam concluded passing the phone back to him.
"My thoughts exactly." He pocketed the phone back. "I simply wish to find whoever thought this was a funny joke and have a chat with them."
James and Sam shared a look. They did not believe a word of that.
"Alright," James sighed. "We'll see what we can find out before we leave this place."
====
Thank you so much for all the notes. I'm so glad you liked the previous chapters and hope you'll enjoy this too :) xx
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ragingbookdragon · 4 years
Text
Fistfights On Tavern Nights
A Connor Kenway x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 1,570 Warnings: Explicit Language
Author’s Note: I kept thinking about this scene and I had to write it out. Hey, two stories in one day, who am I! Enjoy! -Thorne
“We could always climb the wall?” He hummed as she suggested it, eyes shifting between the doors and the side wall. “C’mon Ratonhnhaké:ton, it’d be easier than barging in through the front doors.” Again, he hummed, still deciding and she let out a groan, propping her chin on his bicep. “Fine…take forever.” Connor snorted, glancing down at her.
           “You do not want to fight (Y/N)?” She glared up at him, countering,
           “Considering the fact that the last time I got involved in a head-on fight, I got shot? No. No I don’t want to fight.” Connor crossed his arms over his chest, asking,
           “What if we get inside and then we have to fight?”
           “What if we get inside and we don’t have to fight?”
           “What if we get inside and there are more soldiers than we realize are inside?”
           “What if we get inside and there aren’t more soldiers inside?”
           “What if-” An annoyed voice cut them off, scoffing,
           “Oh, dear god! Save the lover’s miff for another time! We’re on a mission that requires your full attentions!” The two assassins tipped their heads, catching sight of the older templar standing behind them, a look of irritation on his face. (Y/N) narrowed her gaze, ordering,
           “Hey, old man, shut it, or I’ll shut it for you. If we want your opinion, we’ll ask for it.” Haytham’s eyes went wide at her words, and for a moment, he seemed to be stunned silent. This prompted Connor to bark a laugh, quipping,
           “Well, well, Mister-Smart-Mouth is rendered speechless?” He glanced down at (Y/N), acknowledging, “Well done otsi'tsa.” She furrowed her brows, thrusting a thumb back at Haytham, who had a mixture of anger and hurt crossing his face.
           “What like it’s hard? He’s old. All you gotta do to make men feel bad about themselves is point out things they try to ignore. His knees pop when he tries to sneak.”
           “That is not true.” (Y/N) cocked an eyebrow, taunting,
           “You sure this is the game you wanna play old man?” She smirked, sweetly adding, “I really don’t wanna hurt your feelings.” Haytham took a step towards her, ignoring how Connor turned fully to him, soldiers squared and ready to defend her if the situation arose.
           “Try me.” She shrugged then pressed the back of her hand to Connor’s chest, directing,
           “Go fight without me, this’ll take a while.” He frowned, looking at her.
           “I do not want to leave you alone with him.” (Y/N) scoffed, meeting Haytham’s gaze.
           “Haytham’s not gonna kill me, are you Haytham?” The templar shook his head and she looked back at Connor. “We might get into a fistfight, but nothing serious.” She nodded to the fort. “Go.” The other assassin stayed a moment, before staring at his father, hissing,
           “If you start anything serious with her, I will finish it.” Haytham merely rolled his eyes but nodded and Connor placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear before taking off. Once he’d made it to the fort, she reached her weapons belt, undoing it before tossing it aside. After, she undid the hidden blades at her wrists, adding them to the pile. She raised her fists, challenging,
           “Alright, let’s go old man.” An eyebrow arched on his face and he inquired,
           “You’re serious about fighting me?” (Y/N) dropped her fists, deadpanning,
           “No, I’ve just got my weapons belt thrown aside and my arms raised because I enjoy looking like an absolute fucking idiot.” Haytham chuckled as he undid his hidden blade, stowing it in his tricorn before placing it on the ground.
           “You said it, not me.” She huffed, grinning as he pulled off his sword and pistol belts.
           “Okay, now I’m really gonna kick your ass.” He matched her grin, and she could see the seething anger stirring in his steel eyes. Stepping forward, she dared, “May the best fighter win.”
An Hour Later:
           Holding his arm, he trekked back up the hill. Clearing the fort had given the patriots new supplies, but he’d taken a few wounds of his own, meaning he’d be out of the fight for a week or two. He’d managed to stop the bleeding in his arm, but the cut still stung, and he bit the inside of his cheek at the pain. As he neared the top, he caught sight of (Y/N) and his father sitting side by side, passing a bottle back and forth. He’d never been one to eavesdrop unless necessary, but the way they laughed made him wonder what had occurred in the mere hour he’d been gone, and before he could stop himself, he started creeping behind them, silently listening.
           “Do you ever think Connor’s hard to understand at times?” (Y/N) hummed as she took a sip from the bottle.
           “When we first met, sure, but now? Nah. He’s pretty easy to read.” Haytham scoffed as she handed it over.
           “You’re joking?” She huffed a laugh, countering,
           “Pot meet kettle.”
           “I am not like him.” (Y/N) pulled a solemn face, nodding her head.
           “Yes, you are. The two of you are as stubborn as mules.”
           “That doesn’t mean I act like him, or vice versa.”
           “Haytham, you do realize you’re his father, right? Like half of that boy comes from you.” His face pinched and he raised a hand to his mouth, massaging his cheek.
           “You have a good left hook.” (Y/N) grinned as she took the bottle back.
           “Don’t change the subject.”
           “I’m not.”
           “Yes, you are.” She observed him a moment, then surmised, “You’re afraid to get closer to him because you’re scared it’ll cloud your judgment.” Haytham said nothing and she turned her attention to the street. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s scared too.” (Y/N) could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. “I can tell that he wants to know you…wants to have that connection to you…but he’s scared to put anything into the relationship because the future is uncertain.” He didn’t need to say anything, but he did anyway.
           “Uncertain? He is afraid we’ll end up facing one another.” She nodded, muttering,
           “Ratonhnhaké:ton is stronger than you. His convictions and will are too. If the two of you came to blows…I’ve no illusions that you’ll walk away from that fight alive.” She handed him the bottle and Haytham stared into the whiskey before murmuring,
           “Why are you telling me this (Y/N)?” She took a deep breath before looking at him, staring into his eyes as she declared,
           “Because you gave my father a second chance to do the right thing.” At the mention of her father, Haytham’s eyes went wide and she continued, “I’m giving you the same chance. To be a better man, a better father to your son. To change what could happen for something better.” Connor, who’d been silent up until now, decided to stop eavesdropping, stepping forward.
           “The fort has been cleared.” The two turned to look at him from their spots, and he immediately glared at Haytham, condemning, “What did you do!” Connor started towards (Y/N) who grinned as he knelt beside her, gently taking her face in his hands. He tilted her head up, examining her. “Are you alright otsi'tsa?” She nodded, reaching up to grab his hand; pressing a kiss to his palm, she replied,
           “Honestly Ratonhnhaké:ton, if you think this is bad, you should’ve seen the time I came out of the barfight back in Saint Augustine.” She tipped her head towards Haytham. “Besides, I handed your dad his ass.”
           “You did not.” (Y/N) snorted, but it dissolved into a hiss as Connor dabbed at her bloodied lip.
           “Ow.” He frowned at her then turned his attention to his father.
           “You should not have aimed for the face.” Haytham pointed to his eyebrow.
           “She hit me in the face first. I was getting even.” (Y/N) glanced at him, wondering aloud,
           “I wonder how my dad would feel about his dear old friend beating up his innocent daughter.” She chuckled. “Hey, maybe I should send the old bastard a letter and tell him!” Connor’s lips tugged down, and he whispered,
           “Do not make light of what makes your heart heavy otsi‘tsa.” She wanted to roll her eyes, but he had a good point, and she sighed,
           “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” He pulled away, holding out his hand to her. (Y/N) took it, letting him pull her to his feet before he turned away, offering it to Haytham. His father seemed surprised, but took it and as they all stood, (Y/N) offered, “Say…since we’re all tired and hungry, why don’t we get something to eat?” Connor dropped his gaze and Haytham said,
           “It’s getting late. I should get back to file reports-” She sent him a look then looked between Connor and him, and he followed, “I suppose the reports can wait until tomorrow.” Awkwardly, he gestured to the street. “Connor, (Y/N), would you like to eat dinner with me?” She nudged Connor in the side, and he looked over at her. Smiling, she nodded, and he sighed before agreeing,
           “Dinner sounds good.” (Y/N) took Connor’s hand and they started towards the tavern. Haytham followed close behind, watching the way they joked and laughed, and, for once in many years, he felt like his heart wasn’t on the verge of breaking. Perhaps (Y/N) was right…maybe there was still a chance to change.
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snarkwrites · 3 years
Note
omg angel! my next ✨thot✨ was going to be about tying tim up but we can hold off on that cause you gave me a gem to run with and ask very kindly for more! (also you are amazing for just indulging me and i’m crying cause omg you totally get me and i’m glad we can fawn over tim together)
so i am asking for a very much needed continuation of officer tim using his cuffs and what his punishment is! please! i beg of you! - ❤️
Oooh, yes. Yes, save that for another time because I’d absolutely love to discuss that further. You’re the amazing one because you don’t know how much this indulges me and i love fawning over Tim with you! <3
A continuation, yes? Here we go. Let’s do this.
Warnings:
I preface in saying that the content below the cut -yes, there will be one, I already know I’m going to go on a tangent and I damn well know it’s gonna be filthy as hell, is absolutely not meant for minors. So if you’re under 18+, you need to click away from this. Don’t read any further. If you choose to stay beyond this warning, this is now officially your own problem/fault. I warned you.
If you are going to stick around, first of all, yay!  <3!!, Secondly, these things may be present... Use of handcuffs. Body fluids. Oral sex; male giving. Oral sex ; face fucking, female giving.
Tagging:
@chasingeverybreakingwave 
@twistnet 
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Tim Speedle + teasing, a continuation;
You knew you were in for it; that didn’t stop you at all. Your hand wandered down between the two of you and he groaned quietly, bucking against it as you worked your hand down his pants, wrapped them around his growing bulge. His fingers dug into your ass, squeezing and he growled against your mouth, “You’re really in for it now, doll.” and his eyes met yours, pupils nearly blacked out with lust. He rubbed you against him, the friction just wasn’t enough. His tongue dragged slowly round the shell of your ear and he gave the lusty whisper, “ It’s all fun and games until you’re handcuffed to our bed and my head’s buried between your thighs.” and as he said it, his fingers dug against your jeans even more, rubbing you against him all over again more roughly. 
As soon as you two could slip out of Eric and Calleigh’s, you were hurrying to his motorcycle. The trip back to Tim’s felt as if it took forever, but he made it interesting every single time he saw fit to really lay into the gas, making the powerful engine you currently straddled roar and as a direct result, vibrate. He was scooping you off of the Ducati as soon as it was fully stopped in the parking lot. His mouth devouring yours, rough and biting. A frantic and needy kiss that left you whimpering and squirming in his arms, because you just couldn’t wait a second longer. As soon as the door was unlocked, the fuse was lit. Clothing was torn free from your body before you could even really bat a lash -and definitely before Tim got the door closed fully behind you two, fyi. Once the door to Tim’s apartment was closed behind the two of you and locked, Tim was carrying you straight back to his bedroom. Your back hit the mattress and his mouth never left yours. Now his free hand was wandering all over your bare body. He dug around, finally locating the handcuffs. He pressed into you and muttered against your mouth in a low growl, “Get comfortable doll. You really earned this.” as he licked his lips, letting his eyes roam over your naked body slowly.
The cold metal against your warm skin had you hissing and you found your hands cuffed, rendering them useless. You had to lie there and watch as he stripped off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor in the room behind him. And then he went for the jeans. Slowly. Teasing you. As they pooled at his ankle and he kicked his shoes off, he licked his lips and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Pretending he didn’t know exactly what he was about to do. He stepped closer. “Is there something you wanna do right now, doll?” -oh god, that shit eating tease tone he took.. If you were dripping back at the party, you were three times that now. Your eyes settled on his thick length, standing at attention. When his hand wandered down, circling it, you whimpered. “Not fair.” you squirmed, dying to at least be able to do something. Your cunt was throbbing. Between all the teasing earlier in the night and the entire ride back here to now, you were beyond ready.
“I asked you a question doll.”  Tim’s voice went more firm. More like a true authority figure. You’d seen this flip switch a time or two before when he was working.. It never failed to leave you all worked up. His hand continued to pump his thick and hardened length, knowing that unless you spoke up, all you could do was watch.. Squirm.. Beg for it.
You couldn’t take anymore. “C’mon, Tim, please.. You know what I want.” you whimpered out. “I wanna suck your cock.”
Your words and your begging tone flipped the switch within the man even more. He stood, helping you sit up so you could reach him a little easier. But those cuffs? Those stayed on. You got the feeling that it might be quite a while before they came off tonight and just the thought of it had your thighs absolutely flooded with slick, dripping. One of his hands wandered down, gripping your sex, squeezing and rubbing the heel of his palm right against your mound, putting indirect pressure on your clit and you arched your back away from the bed. His other hand remained wrapped around his cock and he teased it against your mouth. You begged him to let you have your hands but he shook his head no. “Don’t let me get too rough, baby girl.” he muttered against your mouth as his fingers worked you open and he stole one last deep and biting kiss. HIs mouth was replaced with his cock and as you took him as deep in your throat as you could take him, his fingers tangled in your hair. His hips thrust against your mouth, the suction of it making him tense and growl quietly. Making his fingers bury deeper in your dripping core, the wet slosh seeming to echo through the room and shatter the silence.  “Louder, doll.” he muttered in a daze, his fingers striking against your spot as you really latched onto his cock, raising your head, only to lower your mouth all over again and repeat. His fingers tangled in your hair urging you to go faster, controlling the pace. You could feel yourself starting to shake, your orgasm was dangerously close. He seemed to pick up on it, his fingers slowed to a more deliberate crawl inside you and his thumb pressed into your clit, making you moan out and squirm as you worked your mouth over his length faster. Determined to make him abandon his little plan of teasing you.
But he’s not one of those guys who changes his mind easily. ANd his mind was currently fixed on teasing you just as much as you’d been teasing him nearly all night.
“Fuck.” he growled out quietly as his hips and his fingers both came to a stop and you pouted. You’d been right on the edge. A breath away from going over it. He drew his fingers out of your dripping heat and stepped away from you, making you pout even more, begging him not to stop. He chuckled quietly. His fingers passed between his lips and he groaned as the taste of your juices filled his mouth. When he locked eyes with you again, you KNEW you were in for it.
He lowered himself down onto the bed. Using his body to spread your legs as his mouth began to work up the slippery insides, teeth latching on here and there. His eyes met yours once more and you knew by the gleam in them that he was only just getting started. His tongue  rolled over and around your clit all over again as his fingers buried inside. When his mouth latched onto your folds, sucking, you arched away from the bed, your toes digging into the mattress and your moans shattered the silence and competed with the sounds of Tim, head buried between your thighs. Tongue slurping greedily as he buried it inside of you with his fingers, drumming against your spot. Sending you speeding right towards orgasm all over again only to have him stop the second he felt you tensing and shaking beneath him, and start licking and nipping at your inner thighs before continuing.
You felt the broad strokes of his tongue as they formed the letter T. Your toes curled all over again and your head fell back, your eyes fluttered open and closed. “Fuck.” you moaned, rocking your hips upward. This, of course, was exactly what he wanted you to do. He gripped your hip with his free hand, bucking them against his mouth as the torment started all over again.
By the time he got to the Y in his full first name, you were dripping all over the bed and Tim was stopping to look up at his handiwork, watch you fighting to keep from coming undone for him before he gave you permission.....
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highqueenofelfhame · 4 years
Text
25 Days of Christmas: Day Two.
Rowan and Aelin film a Yulemas music video - Rockband AU/ Heaven Knows.
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Releasing a Yulemas cover and music video was all fun and games until the space they were renting out was freezing cold and all Aelin wore was a skimpy silk nightgown and a completely useless robe. Was it anything different than she would wear at home? No. But at least at home she could tumble in the sheets with someone else until she was sweating, or wrap herself in blankets to keep out the chill. In the middle of an open set, there was nothing to keep her warm, but she supposed the slight chatter to her teeth were better than sweating her makeup off in the video. 
Outside of the room that she was hiding away in, Rowan was looking rather toasty in a full flannel pajama set. He was also looking incredibly good, but Aelin wasn’t going to be the one to admit that. He had plenty of other people feeding into his ego, the man definitely didn’t needed her help. But still… he looked damn good, the red and green offsetting against his tanned skin too perfectly. Rowan had yet to lay eyes on her with her windblown, sex-mussed hair and outfit that she hoped on some level would render him speechless. 
Things had been awkward and tense to say the least. When Rowan had found her on the floor eight months ago, her vision clouded and body light and airy, he had purged the pills from her body by shoving his fingers down her throat. That part she didn’t really remember, more-so Fenrys remembered every second of Rowan yelling for her to stay awake, every second of Rowan’s fingers so far down Aelin’s throat that his fist was almost all the way in her mouth. The image, he’d told her, of her limp body managing to cough and throw up the contents of her stomach all over her and Rowan had been so disturbing that he’d taken to using Gavriel as a therapist. 
Rowan, however, seemed to avoid it entirely. They had hardly spoken, save for when discussing their duet of Baby, It’s Cold Outside, and listening to the concept for the music video. It would be teasing, and playful, and sexy - all things that people generally expected from Aelin and her band. 
When she walked out of the dressing room, fluffing up her messily curled hair and his eyes met hers, she didn’t miss the way his lips parted slightly and his eyes widened if only a little. Aelin hadn’t bothered to tie the robe so it was open, showing entirely too much skin. Much more skin of hers than Rowan had ever seen before. The cherry red nightgown itself stopped above mid-thigh, leaving plenty of freshly bronzed and shiny leg on full display. 
“Are we ready to get this over with?” She asked no one in particular with an icy bite to her voice. It didn’t take long for the video to get rolling, consisting of a lot of touching and almost kissing that was setting Aelin’s skin on fire. 
They started out by the Yulemas tree, teasing touches while they hung little ornaments high up on the branches. At one point he slid his hands down her sides and bunched her nightgown up at her hips only for her to spin away, just out of reach. 
This evening has been so very nice 
(I’ll hold your hands, I’ll hold your hands they’re just like ice.) 
Rowan caught her fingers and pulled her flush to his chest and they swayed together for a moment before she cheekily began to unbutton a few buttons, each of them mouthing the words to the sound. 
I ought to say, no, no, no sir (mind if I move in closer?)
At least I'm gonna say that I tried (what's the sense in hurting my pride?)
His mouth was grazing the corner of hers, their noses bumping together while he slowly pushed her robe down her arms and onto the floor. For a second it didn’t feel like there was a room of people watching. For a second, it felt like it was just Rowan and Aelin finally being together the way they both so craved. 
Gods, your lips look so delicious 
Rowan’s finger traced the shape of her mouth and she nipped at the pad of his fingertip. Someone called cut somewhere sometime later after what felt like hours of feeling each other up and partially undressing and rolling around in an uncomfortable bed together. 
Once everything was finished, Aelin tugged on tights, heels, and a fur jacket over the little red nightgown, fully prepared to make the journey home just like that. It would make it easy to fall into bed when she got home, but as she was leaving the set Rowan stopped her. 
“Ace?” She turned, a brow raised as she glanced up at the snow falling from the sky. In his hands was a small box that was wrapped absolutely horribly. You would think that someone so skilled with deft fingers would be able to wrap a gift better than what he had, but alas, he held out a lumpy present that she took carefully. It was the first time they had been alone since she’d almost killed herself by taking too many pills. 
“What’s this?” 
“Just open it,” he shrugged, sliding his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Aelin chewed on her red lips for a minute before slicing through the paper with a sharp fingernail, handed the scrap of paper back to Rowan, and opened the box. 
It was a charm bracelet. The first charm was a little microphone with glittering black stones. The second was a little flame, definitely a nod to her fiery spirit and the nickname her mother called her that was nearly lost. The nickname that Rowan somehow knew something about. The third was a simple little snowflake with a stunning piece of moonstone at its center. Three charms for three months out of rehab. She found herself unable to help the way her throat choked up, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
“I’m proud of you, Fireheart,” he said softly, taking another step toward her. Carefully, so gently as though not to spook her, he brushed her hair back from her face and leaned in to rest her forehead against his. “We have a lot to talk about but I just…”
“Take me home,” she said, voice tired and thick with emotion that she couldn’t say. She couldn’t say it, but she could show it. Aelin could show him exactly what she felt with her body and kissed him to prove it. 
It was a lingering, long, and slow kiss that lasted forever but was too short all at the same time. When he pulled away and held her face in his hands she just shook her head and kissed him again, this time not letting him pull away. Her arms slipped around his neck and she held him close to her, gripping the bracelet so tightly in her fist she wouldn’t be surprised if the snowflake left behind little wounds. 
“Lets go,” he said softly, lacing their fingers and nodding down toward his car. Aelin merely nodded and followed, letting him kiss her one more time at the passenger door. “Happy Yulemas, love.
tags: @starseternalnighttriumphant @mariamuses @keshavomit @faefromthenorth @ifyouwouldseemysoul @murlymoo150 @faerie-queen-fireheart @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyre-therabeaux @runawayrowan @someonemagical @stormymeow @singme-t0sleep @tswaney17 @shyvioletcat @city-of-fae @kandasboi @mynewdreamwasyou @tangledraysofsunshine @aelin-is-my-heart @empire-of-wildfire @mynameiscelaenasardothien​ @myfeyrelady​ @schmlip-scribble​ @musicmaam​ @nalgenewhore​ @westofmoon​ @aaronwarnvrs @acourtofrowaelinandfeysand​ @im-not-rare-im-rarr​
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dudeandduchess · 4 years
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To the Ends of the Earth: Kyōjurō x F!S/O (Mythology AU)
Hey hey, bbys! This is the other fic I was talking about earlier. I based this one on Orpheus and Eurydice’s myth. I hope you guys like it as much as I liked writing it. Please tell me what you guys think, as every comment will help me improve my writing. Thank you so much!
Now, we’re going to go back to our regularly scheduled program: i.e. me writing your reqs. Ahaha.
***
Warnings: Manga Spoilers, Talk of Purgatory and the Afterlife, Angst with Happy Ending
She had no choice.
(Y/n)’s current predicament left her no choice but to go crawling back to her parents. It was either that, or she could say goodbye to her beloved husband forever.
Neither of the two choices tickled her fancy, but she knew what she had to do.
She had to get up and out of her pitiful state, wipe her tears away, and march right on to solve her own problem. Because the world surely wasn’t going to do it for her.
And Kyōjurō wasn’t there to pick her up as well. So, she had to do it by herself; whether she liked it or not.
With her head held high, and her face rid of her tears, (Y/n) set on for her course to the mountain that housed the power of the spirits of the dead— and her family’s home: Tateyama; more specifically, Oyama peak.
The journey was long, but it wasn’t arduous; not when she felt more and more energized the closer she got to her childhood home.
Snow immediately greeted her at the foot of the mountain, as she bypassed the old town and headed up the trail that everyone had deemed too dangerous to tread. Dangerous for mortals, maybe, but not for halflings like her.
The air was so thin near the peak, yet she wasn’t even out of breath as she trudged through the knee-deep snow in her Slayer uniform. She didn’t even feel cold, as the warmth that Kyōjurō’s haori provided her was enough to ward off any chill.
“Mother! Father!” She cried aloud at the seemingly empty peak. Her own voice carried over the silence, and echoed up to the other peaks. “I need your help.”
Silence answered her plea, which had her frowning and fighting off another wave of tears. She’d known that going to her parents for help had been a shot in the dark, as a part of her kept telling her before that renouncing her immortality to stay with Kyōjurō would disappoint them greatly.
Renouncing a goddess’ eternal life wasn’t unheard of, but it was a taboo within their social circles. To even walk amongst humans was a taboo that (Y/n) gladly took to; as it had led her to meeting the love of her life.
She got to keep most of her powers, which made her a very efficient demon slayer; so efficient, in fact, that she’d amassed quite the following within the Slayer Corps. Alas, as much as she wanted to teach everyone how to manifest a bow and arrow out of thin air, she couldn’t...
As no one had the same abilities as her.
She was different— always had been— but it was in Kyōjurō’s arms that she’d found the love and acceptance that she had been always been yearning for. She hadn’t found it with anyone else throughout her long life; just with him.
So she didn’t hesitate to give up her own immortality, if it meant that she could grow old and build a family with him...
But the Infinite Train mission had happened, and he had perished under an upper moon’s hand.
The last thing that she wanted was to admit defeat and ask her parents— more specifically, her father— for help, yet there she was: at the top of Tateyama’s second highest peak, and waiting for her old home’s invisible barriers to part and allow her entry.
The demigoddess didn’t know how long she’d stood there, but it was long enough for her tears to freeze and her feet to go numb in the snow.
“Please. Please, help me.” (Y/n) begged once more; even going as far as to get down on her knees and bow down in a dogeza.
More tears flowed freely from her eyes, only to instantly disappear the moment they fell on to the snowy ground.
“I’m begging you... mother, father. Please.”
It felt like an hour had passed for (Y/n), yet she stayed bowed down on the cold ground. Her heart felt so painful that she had taken to digging her nails into her palms, if only to divert her attention.
Yet she could still feel it; and the pain in her heart rendered her brain unable to dwell on anything but her own inner turmoil.
“Lift your head, (Y/n).” Instantly, the demigoddess’ head snapped up, as more and more tears flowed from her eyes. Sobs even threatened to break free from her lips, but she bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to keep them at bay.
Slowly, the ethereal woman sashayed down the stairs that led heavenward— up to the home she had been raised in, in the sky. It was palatial in its size and elegance, but a prison was still a prison— no matter how beautiful it was.
(Y/n) felt her mother’s familiar powers wash over her; cleaning the tear tracks from her cheeks and righting her fragile human body up into standing. She could only look on and take the other woman’s face to memory, as she wasn’t sure if it was going to be the last time that she ever saw her.
As it was, she hadn’t seen her parents ever since she married Kyōjurō— which was nearing three years at that point. And she realized that no matter how badly they had ended their last conversation, she still felt so much love and affection for both of them.
And it seemed that her mother felt the same, as she was immediately engulfed in the older goddess’ arms. Being the deity of snow, she was cold to the touch, but (Y/n) didn’t mind at all as she burrowed further against her mother.
“I’m so sorry for saying all of those hurtful things to you and father,” The young woman helplessly sobbed. “I didn’t mean any of them. I’m so sorry.”
“And both of us are sorry as well... for not seeing things from your perspective. But we understand now; and we accept your decision fully. We accept you and Kyōjurō fully...” Yukihime answered in her gentle tone; all while tears marred those flawlessly pale cheeks of hers.
At that, (Y/n) clung tighter to her mother and resisted the urge to succumb to another breakdown. She had already had so many of those in the days following Kyōjurō’s death; she didn’t want to have any more, as they were extremely taxing on already broken heart.
She explained what had happened, not sparing all of the grisly details— which had Yukihime gritting her teeth in anger. Had she been allowed to do so, she would have already rained down her wrath upon Kibutsuji Muzan, but full-fledged deities such as herself and her husband weren’t allowed to interfere with the happenings between humans and demons.
So her hands were tied. She could only hold her daughter closer and run her fingers through the young woman’s hair; like she had done when (Y/n) was a child.
“It’s a good thing your father isn’t here, because he would surely break the rules and smite that damned Kibutsuji,” Yukihime snarled the demon progenitor’s name, then added, “As if the humans needed more pests in their world. Nothing but the result of a paltry mortal trying to play as a god.”
With that, Yukihime whisked her daughter up the grand stairs that led up to their home; completely unmindful of the Yūrei that tried to grab at the tail ends of her kimono.
As the wife of the the keeper of purgatory’s keys, a lot of restless spirits tended to follow her around in the hopes that she would help them; but she couldn’t, as doing so would warrant great challenges.
And, whether mortals wanted to believe it or not, gods were vain and selfish. They only cared about themselves or those related to them. They did things that would benefit them greatly; not because they were kind enough to bestow blessings upon their hordes of supporters.
It was why (Y/n) didn’t fit in in the first place, as she genuinely cared about the mortals that revered her parents... and the few who praised her as well.
Once inside the palatial house, Yukihime immediately transported them to the sulfur baths and ordered her daughter to soak herself within the bath; with her clothes and all.
“It’s to keep your sweet, mortal scent from attracting more Yūrei,” The goddess had explained softly, as she silently recounted all of her trips to the underworld and mapped out which way was the easiest to take.
It took her a few minutes to do so, but once she was sure that her daughter would be taking the safest route, she said, “From here you have to go to Shōmyō falls. When you get there, climb up to the very top of the falls and jump down. You have enough of mine and your father’s blood in you for the gates of hell to recognize you...
But... when you get down to purgatory, be sure to take Kyōjurō and leave. Don’t look at anyone, don’t talk to anyone and— most importantly— don’t look back at Kyōjurō until you two have gotten up to the surface. A door will be there, and only those who bear the blood of the gods can enter. Be sure to not let go of your husband’s hand while walking through that doorway...”
Yukihime prattled on, giving her daughter advice on how to deal with any problems that should arise. And when all was said, she transported (Y/n) close to where Shōmyō Falls was.
***
The trek going to the lip of the waterfall was much more difficult than going up the mountain, as demons and spirits littered the area. She had to dispose of the handful of demons that she had come across, as she had sworn to do so when she became a Slayer.
It ate up more time than she wanted, but it was inevitable. But still, when she made it to the very tip of the waterfall, she closed her eyes and took one last step off of the ledge.
The wind rushed past her ears and whipped her hair every which way; and it made her want to scream, but she held herself from doing so, as making any unnecessary noise would attract the attention of more restless spirits than she could handle.
There was nothing but the whistling of the wind around her for a while— much longer than she had anticipated, which made her heart race in fear. Had she been a full-fledged goddess, she could survive the impact of the fall, but as a halfling... her chances of survival weren’t looking good.
But then, the cold air around her became suffocating; extremely hot and uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that it made breathing such a difficult task.
The only silver lining was that with the heat came the slowing of her descent.
She finally opened her eyes when she felt herself practically floating down, and suppressed a gasp when she saw all of the reikon in purgatory.
All of them were wandering aimlessly— awaiting the arrival of their ancestors, so that they could be taken to the afterlife. While some... she couldn’t even begin to describe the sickening emotions wafting off of the others.
Those vengeful spirits were bound to become Yūrei; doomed to roam the earth in search of the justice or revenge that their soul craved.
(Y/n) felt sorry for them, and she wanted to help, but she kept looking around her as she drew closer and closer to the ground— searching for that head of fiery blond hair that she had come to love.
And it didn’t take long for her to spot him. He was standing off to the side, with his arms crossed— all while sporting a small smile on his face.
The moment her feet touched the warm ground, she took off in a sprint towards him— uncaring of all the souls that she had pushed out of her way. All that mattered to her was him.
She immediately wrapped her arms around him, as she roughly bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from sobbing.
“(Y/n)?” Kyōjurō asked, clearly surprised as he wrapped his own arms around his wife. Then, that was when worry crashed over him like a tidal wave... “You’re not... you’re not dead, are you?”
“No,” She answered through her tears, as she shook her head. “I’m here to get you out. Come on.”
Kyōjurō wanted, more than anything, to go— but he was held back by his own morals. It would be highly unfair if he got to cheat death, per se; and that harped heavily on his conscience.
“Please, Kyō,” His wife pleaded desperately. “We don’t have much time.”
It might have been unfair of him to do so, but he still had unfinished business. And he still had to make good on all of the promises he’d uttered to (Y/n) when they got married, so the Hashira found himself nodding. “Okay. Let’s go.”
With that, (Y/n) took his right hand in hers, and dragged him towards the doors that her mother had told her about. She also made a point to always stay in front of Kyōjurō, and forced herself not to look at him over her shoulder.
“Why aren’t you looking at me, my love?” Kyōjurō asked softly, as he followed his wife up the seemingly endless steps that were carved into the sides of a spiraling ravine.
“I... I can’t; not until we get to the surface.”
“Who told you that?”
“My mother. I asked for her help... but my father wasn’t there.”
A bright smile tugged up at the Flame Hashira’s lips, as he readjusted his grip on (Y/n)’s hand and pulled her down a few steps— so that he could press a kiss against the back of her head.
The gesture warmed (Y/n)’s heart immensely, as a watery smile made its way onto her own lips. It had been merely a few days since he’d been gone, but she couldn’t deny that she’d immensely missed his kisses— and just him in general.
“You’ve made up with her; that’s amazing news, my love! Should I look forward to spending New Year at your parents’ home?” Kyōjurō stated with a teasing lilt to his tone, which had his wife giggling despite the new set of tears that fell from her eyes.
It seemed that she had cried more in the short time she’d been half mortal, compared to how much she’d cried in the few hundred years she’d been alive as a full-fledged goddess. But. She wasn’t complaining; as feeling so much was something so genuinely human that immortals could never understand.
It was something that she had, that all of the much more relevant deities could never take away from her. “Maybe. Let’s check how my father feels about it first.”
After that exchange, the couple made their way up the spiraling steps. (Y/n) stumbled a few times, but she was lucky enough as Kyōjurō caught her each and every time.
The Hashira had even taken to pushing her up the last few steps, with his hands cupping his wife’s firmly rounded behind.
Still, even as they emerged onto the surface— and Kyōjurō’s hands had snaked up to a much more appropriate spot on either side of (Y/n)’s hips— she still refused to look at him, just to be sure.
It wasn’t until they were a few meters away from the narrow cave opening that they had exited that Kyōjurō turned his wife around and wrapped his arms tightly around her.
He could feel his own tears streaming down his face, while small hands gripped the back of his uniform in tight fists.
And for the nth time that week, (Y/n) wailed so loudly that it was enough to grip her husband’s heart in a vise like grip. She sounded so anguished that the guilt of causing her that much pain gnawed at him.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you, my love. I’m so sorry.” He whispered softly, as his arms pulled her further against his chest.
It was only then that Kyōjurō realized the severity of his actions. In sacrificing himself, he had hurt the love of his life so much— and he swore, from that moment on, that he would be more careful.
Because he should have been the one saving (Y/n); not the other way around. That, and he never wanted to cause her pain ever again.
((If you liked my work, please consider buying me a ko-fi. Thank you so much! :D))
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telleroftales-blog · 3 years
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Perit, She Who Sculpted The Earth
In the age of Dardanus, father of all, of the gods It was decreed the word which would become law  She who perched her nest high atop Tomor mountain Among those who claimed descent from the Eagle  Must seek the spirit of the mountain, queen of the rocks That all who would seek to rule the land and their children  For without her blessing all the desires and dreams of Man... Zana be her name, the all powerful, the very soul of the land  She Zana, spirit of the mountains and the hills  With Ora of the lakes and rivers, streams and waterfalls... Without her blessing all endeavor would certainly fail  As a horse might falter slipping on a rock  Watching over the terrain, it was they who guided Perit   She, who did flatten the plains, allowing the fire   From within the earth to belch forth  Her forge and bellows for her handiwork Did she carved the river gorges and shaped   The mighty mountain peaks, the inner caves of the Earth   To hide the gems and precious stones for a future day  To the lowland swamps where men plowed the fertile fields  To gain of their sustenance, toiling daily Thus she formed volcanoes, and also the hot springs   Of boiling water, the smell of sulphur ever present  Fermented by the mud and dirt cast down from high places  After years of toil and sweat carving the Earth as we know it 
Perit rested, sweaty now and panting from exhaustion  Lonely now, she desired company... For she was alone and the silence was far too much for her  So she separated her male half from her female side  For she was of two genders, the right and the left  The male and the female powerfully intertwined as one   And thus she created Man, whom she named Burri  A companion and accomplice, in love and harmony   Did the two dwell together  Perit was a goddess of action and will   She gave to Burri all that he desired and needed   In joy and in ecstasy did she proclaim her deed...  “I brought ye here, therefore it is I who must provide for you Ask and ye shall receive, for thou art my companion   I shall be here for you always, my love and my soul As we both will dwell in this place together, happily  The carved mountains and valleys, the gouged river gorges  This place which I have created with my arms and muscle  That give a path of relief to the raging waters   From the heavens above, all this I share with you"  One day Perit gave birth to a baby girl   And the couple were overjoyed Her name was Bija, a child of light with precious eyes  Perit and Burri were happy and they celebrated  For many years, day after day they partook of the dance of life  Singing unto the spirits of the mountains and rivers   A song most joyous and happy Until the day of darkness arrived.... The day that their daughter Bija became a maiden, a woman  Her eyes were full and bright like the Moon now  Burri eyed his daughter with evil intent, with a lustful heart Her figure shapely, her breasts ample, her curves inviting  Burri, not knowing work, the skills of the hunt or seeking sustenance   Knew not the responsibility of maintaining life and property   He fell prey to his inner lust, the call to damnation  One day as Perit was out hunting, seeking rabbits for food  But she didn’t have difficulty finding game Nor did she need to seek and stalk this time, as she always did For a lone hare came to her, and told her prophecy-  “Accept me as thy sacrifice, for today your life will change Throw thy spear surely into my heart, for on this day   You too shall be wounded deeply This is the price you must pay for daring to imagine   That ye could create anything on your own Thou has carved the rocks and cleared the forests  Rendering them into plains and fields   And into mighty mountain ranges that encircle the seas  Oh goddess, hast thou not heard the cries of pain   From those trees and stones as ye cut and forged them? When ye thought to render them to your own desires?   There is a price for everything you touch   There is a price for living, a price for even being alive"   Perit could not fully comprehend what the hare   Was trying to say, thinking these words a ploy   To ward off impending death at the throw of her lance  To escape his fate which awaited him She Perit, spoke- “Think thou not that thy words might spare ye, oh grey hare I shall slay ye and eat of thy flesh, yes  I and my Man, and my child, for we must endure Survival is the way of the living, not the dead  Thy flesh will taste sweet when it roasted over an open fire This is my world, my land, and thou art but an inhabitant  You have a home due to my carving of the rocks   Into mountains and valleys have I rendered them  Be still, as your death will be swift indeed"   And with that she cast her spear with all her might  It entered the hare’s chest and protruded from it’s other side The animal closed it's eyes and died in an instant   Perit carried her motionless catch on her back   She brought it home where she was to prepare a fire So as to cook her prize to feast upon that very evening But as she gathered some wood for the fire  To her amazement she heard human cries and moans   Coming from behind a great rock  She went to investigate and witnessed the unthinkable The unimaginable, the greatest impossibility...  There was Burri, mounted atop his daughter, Bija  Engaged was he in a most lewd act  Bija was crying and screaming, and resisted his advances  Having scratched and bit at her father’s face  In an attempt at defense The bloody marks upon his visage were evidence   Of her attempt to ward him off   But she was powerless to resist his muscular strength   Which pinned her as a lion pins a gazelle   And he continued his savage thrusts amid her cries  Unaware of Perit’s arrival he continued  Deaf to her approach, blind to all awareness  Due to the state of lust he had entered into Perit, enraged at this betrayal, came to the aid of her daughter  And firmly took hold of Burri’s legs   And in the throes of her anger she, with all her force   Threw him over the rock, over the mountains   Where he landed forcibly in some lonesome valley  However, poor Bija, so enwrapped tightly as she was  Caught within his mighty embrace That she too was accidentally thrown along with him Burri landed on the soft side of a riverbed  But the beautiful daughter had fallen now from his grasp  And fell to her death in the chasm below  Her mangled body now crushed, ripped and bloodied   Lying upon the rocks forged by Perit’s own handiwork   Perit stood silent on the cliff’s edge, unable to speak  Tears filled her eyes but she was unable to look down below  Into the valley where her beloved daughter lay  Her body motionless and still, once breathing now dead   Perit was in a state of shock and disbelief  Still not able to understand what had just occurred, or why Now she began to contemplate the prophecy of the hare who informed her  That as he would be wounded by her spear  so she would be as well...  Death for a death, a deed for a deed, this is the law of life   She took a deep breath and let out a great moan Like that of a wounded she bear  Or as a wolf howling at the Moon on a cold Winter’s night After she was able to compose herself, the great Perit called out to Burri from atop the mountain home that was once his   Given in love, joy and generosity  Perit cried out in a stern voice that echoed across the valley- “Be it known that thou hast broken my trust  Oh wretched man!  What a despicable act you have committed   With all that I have done for you! Never will you dwell here with me again And you shall live out your days  In that lonely valley, with snakes and scorpions   As companions and friends  From this day forth, let there be a solemn word for all   Who enter into an agreement The solemn word shall be called Besa, a sacred oath   Of loyalty and fealty  And let there be death for those who dare to break this word A thousand curses on those who break the Besa  Upon them and all their families For a thousand years, until their name and memory   Is wiped from the Earth, forever  Thou hast broken my heart  Until now did I think myself immortal I shall live out my years here alone, until the day I pass   From this miserable existence  Once again is the dominion of the Earth returned   To the great spirits of the mountains and the lakes  Praise be to Zana and Ora!  Who will watch over the land and the people   Never granting power to tyrants and evil doers  Reminding all that we are powerless  For our existence is but a dream  The land survives, that which I carved with   The muscle of my arms and the sweat of my brow... The mountains, the river gorges, the plains   The rocky shores, all of it  All there for the future generations, to live upon   Or to make war upon each other  As humans see fit, as men will see fit  For men will surely destroy this world  Though they be created of women, they are   The breakers of trust and the greediest of beings  May all their doings be cursed with vagueness   And their work regarded with much suspicion”   Perit ordered some eagles to fetch   The broken body of her abused daughter   And bring it back to her proximity   When they returned she clutched Bija tightly Kissing her forehead repeatedly  Rocking her lifeless body to and fro  As she did when she was an infant in her arms Blending her tears with her daughter’s now bloodied face  Singing in monotones that song which would become known as vajtim The chant of the dead...  “Oh my dream, my vision, where have ye flown?  Innocent one, ‘tis I who brought you into this world And I who dared to think I could create your destiny  Nor will you carry on my lineage Never will you embrace the arms of a lover  Never will you know the joy of the hunt   The pleasant song of birds are not for your ears Or the sound of fish splashing about in the rivers  Forgive me, for it was out of love and need that I acted  Fooled and tricked by the man I created for my own desires The old hare was correct, there is a price for everything in this life…the hare paid this price with his...  I pay with the life of my daughter! I damn this creation which I alone have brought forth  Woe is me and mine, forever, woe unto me and mine   For what we have done!”   Then she Perit once again stood on the precipice  And called out to all the world- “From this day forth let it be known   To all the descendants of generations to come For any of you to be a ruler among the nations and the tribes   Know that they must come to this mountain   And seek the guidance of the great spirits Zana and Ora Who will surely test them as to their dedication   And as to their truthfulness  And if these would-be chiefs are proved worthy   They will be granted their blessing  If they are proven not worthy   Let them be cast down into the chasm below Their crushed bodies a reminder of   My own poor Bija’s crushed body  Which lay there alone and innocent  Her young blood mingling with the river's flow   For those who pass the test of Zana and Ora  They who rise forth to take command of the clans   And lead their people to victory Let their lives be a story recounted when they die So that when they leave you, sing of their glories  Or sing then of their evil deeds  So all will know who they were and what they did in life  Sing the vajtim and sing it loudly!   This will be a warning that would insure  They live a life of noble gratitude and justice   Rather than one of trickery, evil doings and lust”  These last commandments were thus delivered   Echoing in the valley until the coming of men Citing that all beings will do what they see fit in their time  Though humans have no knowledge of what the future may hold or how one’s actions will affect others on the morrow  Perit looked up at the mountain peak where Zana and Ora  Dwelled among the clouds that enshrouded these mountains  She asked for their forgiveness, to which they gave With that Perit closed her eyes and without hesitation  Leapt from the cliff, plunging into the valley below Her blood and her being blended with the fast moving river  The violently churning waters became now   Like the foam and bubbles produced by   Those helpless unfortunates drowning, thrashing about  To save their own lives… Thus the swiftly flowing water became known for all time   As Lum i Shkumbi, the River of Foam How foolish then, are the created ones?  Those beings, all of them, Men and Beasts  Born into this prison of existence Nothing can be done about our situation  As we have no choice in the matter  No chest of gold or silver will deliver us from our destiny  There is a price we pay to be alive, to be, costly indeed   For the very experience of living But to live accordingly, with honor and dignity  With the knowledge of trust and law  This is what helps the pain of the reality  So we can pass on to our children our stories They who will dwell in a realm we can never hope to see... That we might be remembered one day by those  Who come after us, who will tell our stories and recite our tales… In the realm of multiple tomorrows
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years
Text
In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Three
Pairing: Peter Parker X Venom!reader
Warnings: none
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Masterlist
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Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He had somehow managed not to completely blow it with her. He knew it was a long shot, after all they’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between them. She was awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?
Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.
“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked. A blush painted Peters cheeks.
“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down.
“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him. Peters heart skipped a beat at the opportunity to talk about the girl he was so badly crushing on.
“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her, man. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to Y/N.
“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child. This stuff excited him more than anything.
“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted. Tony laughed.
“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up. Tony looked impressed.
“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows. Peter shook his head.
“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.
“That was a test and you passed. Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.” Tony said. Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying. He spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions and training.
I arrived at Peters at 6:07. I was done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on my phone until I was slightly late. I didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. I had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.
I knocked on Peters door and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of him waiting for me. Peter must’ve read my mind. He turned red, must be a habit of his, and smiled.
“I know what you’re thinking. I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “ Peter said, breaking the ice. At least, he tried to. And kudos to him for trying. But I was drawing a blank on my part. I had no idea what to say. I was a reporter for crying out loud. I don’t get tripped up on my words. But something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered me unable to formulate a thought. All I could do was stand there and smile at him, like a Jackass. I felt like I was standing weirdly and I all the sudden had no idea where to put my hands. Do I leave them at my sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? I was pretty sure every brain cell had left my body at that point.
“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between us. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. I looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. I had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material. It was bunched in the front and hugged my figure nicely. My hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing my face. Peter took in my appearance with what looked like approval. Then I noticed Peters gaze falling to my feet.
“Converse with a dress. Nice.” He commented. I felt my personality re-enter my body, finally.
“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” I said sarcastically and attempted to flip my hair, but my dumbass forgot it was in a bun. I still made the hand motion and Peter seemed to get what I was going for. He laughed. I felt myself relax at the magical sound.
“You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.” I said. Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and I regretted ever knocking on his door.
“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said. I had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.
But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled my ears once again.
“That’s what I was going for! My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.” Peter said. We smiled at each other. Maybe this night wasn’t gonna be so bad after all. He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward.
“Come in. Dinners almost ready.”
Peters apartment looked just like mine, but much more homey. I saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. Then I noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but I didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame. I quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.
“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” I heard a woman’s voice. I turned around and saw a young woman in high pants and a yellow tank top. I recognized her from the pictures with Peter.
“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too Mrs. Parker.” I said politely and shook her hand. She smiled at me and fixed her glasses.
“Please. Call me May.” She said.
“May.” I repeated. Hm. If this was Aunt May, where were Peters parents?
Peter and I sat down while May finished preparing dinner. I offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that I am, but May insisted I sat down and waited. A plate of “meatloaf” was placed in front of me soon enough. I use the term “meatloaf” very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with me and winked.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. I nodded and gave him a small smile. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering “it’s way worse.”
I kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water. It’s a shame. I love that sound.
“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May asked. I took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.
“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start at NYU in the fall.” I said. May nodded in approval.
“That’s a very good school. I hadn’t realized you were in college.” She said.
“Y/N used to live in San Francisco.” Peter quipped. He smiled at me , proud of himself for remembering. May looked impressed.
“Yea. I grew up here in Queens and moved to San Francisco to live with my fiancée last year. But I just moved back last week.” I said. Peter began choking on his water. May shot him a look.
“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly. He wipes his mouth after catching his breath.
“Fiancée?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters. Oh great. Time for this conversation.
“Ex-fiancée. He broke off the engagement after I got him fired from his internship at a law firm.” I said sheepishly. I overshared, just a tad. Peter and May didn’t seem put off by it though. Peter looked relieved more than anything.
“May I ask how you got him fired?” May asked.
“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my boyfriend Andy was studying to become a lawyer. Andy had some information pertaining to a case on the man who owned the Life Foundation. I was supposed to interview him about his rocket but he was a terrible, terrible guy, and I knew it. I looked at Andy’s classified files to find out more about him and found some things I wasn’t supposed to. I confronted him about it in our interview and he ended up getting me and Andy fired in one day.” I recalled. It seemed like so long ago. I felt a coldness run through my bones at the memory. Mays eyes widened.
“I knew your name sounded familiar when Peter told me you moved in across the hall. You were the one that took Carlton Drake down, right?” She asked. I merely nodded. I hadn’t heard his name in months. It still sent shivers down my spine. You don’t forget a man who stabbed you after trying to kidnap you and take you to an alien planet.
“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked.
“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” I said, almost mentioning Venom.
“Gosh I read that story forever ago. It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this young girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up. “ May recalled. Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.
“I just thought you were cool. Taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much. I blushed at his compliment.
“Thank you Peter. How old are you anyway?” I asked.
“17. I’ll be 18 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?” He asked.
“He’s legal.” Venom whispered. I couldn’t even be mad at her. I was thinking the same thing.
“I’m 19.” I said. A smile crept across his face.
“And this fiancée, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor. She could sense his crush and knew he was dying to know more.
“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at me while he awaited my answer.
“He’s engaged again. Not to me this time though. They’re getting married this summer.” I said. It was the first time I said those words out loud. I didn’t feel sad, like I thought I would. I didn’t know how I felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt though.
“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter said. The last part came out very quietly. I almost didn’t hear him. He looked up at me slowly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ” Peter said honestly. I smiled at him.
“Thanks. It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.” I said. And I meant it too. May smiled.
“When you do find the one, you’ll know. Your heart will whisper ‘it’s you, it’s always been you. You’re the one I’ve been looking for.’ At least, that’s what my heart said when I met Ben. I just knew he was the one for me.” May said with a happy smile. I could see her eyes glistened behind her glasses. I did something rather bold. I put my hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that I had only read about in stories and seen in movies but never felt for myself. May gave me the warmest smile and squeezed my hand back.
“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” I shrugged. May laughed.
“Ah. That’s a classic in this household. Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.” May recalled. Peter didn’t turn red this time. He only rolled his eyes.
“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece. You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.” Peter sassed his Aunt. I laughed at his remark. May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.
May looked at me for a while with a content smile on her face before saying “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”
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