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riahlynn101 · 2 years

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"Be Honest, Be Truthful."

Chapter five

Trigger warning: Panic attack

Doctor Shuzenji clears her throat. “Harada…er… Nisuke, told me you two were kept inside a vault?”

Yoichi nods. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Can you walk me through what happened?” She asks, toeing the line between nosy and just doing her job. “Only what you’re comfortable with, of course. It’ll be easier to do an assessment if I know what to look for.”

He shifts, and Izuku resumes clinging to him again. The air is sterile and stifling, and too hot and too cold all at the same time. “He locked me in there years before he,” Yoichi’s eyes flick down towards his nephew, “was locked up as well. If Hisashi wasn’t lying to me, then I celebrated five birthdays down there. I would be twenty-one…. I think.”

He tries not to think about all the defining moments of a teenager's life that he missed out on, because his damn brother and his need to be right. Tries not to think about Hisashi nonchalantly bringing up when he himself had been a teenager, reminiscing on the good ol’ days, and (when that didn’t work, and the years went by) rubbing it in his face. Almost like a punishment of sorts.

“And Izuku?”

“He…we just celebrated his fourth birthday a few weeks ago. Hisashi brought him to me roughly a year ago.”

She swivels on the stool, scribbling down a note here and there. Turning her head to look at them, she asks, “are there any pre-existing medical conditions I need to know about? Allergies?”

Yoichi considers lying to her, but instantly thinks better of it. “Yeah, I have severe asthma. It tends to get worse in cold weather, when I’m sick, and when I’m exercising. Though, it’s gotten better over the years.”

“I see. Luckily for you I have a collection of inhalers stored here just in case.” She writes another note down. “And Izuku?”

“I’m not entirely sure. He tends to get sick when I get sick, but that could be because we were in close proximity to each other. My brother isn’t exactly forthcoming with details that aren’t pertinent to the immediate circumstance.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him then,” she says, recapping the pen. “I just need to run a few routine tests, and then someone will escort you guys to your new quarters.”

-x-x-x-

Izuku is crying, apparently the vaccine hadn’t felt like “just a pinch”. But it’s all over now, and that’s all the reassurance his nephew needs to calm down.

They’re guided out of the room by the doctor. She pulls an inhaler from out of a locked drawer, handing it to him. “Here, take this as instructed. And keep an eye on Izuku, asthma-in most forms-is genetic. The earlier we catch it, the easier we can treat it.”

He almost balks at that. The idea that his nephew might, one day, have to suffer like he used to (still has to), sends him to tears. He hides them easily, rubbing his eyes on his right shoulder - the one not supporting most of Izuku’s weight.

If the doctor notices his change in demeanor, she doesn’t mention it. “Don’t hesitate to knock on my door if you have any questions or concerns.”

Yoichi nods, lamely. “Yes, ma’am…uh….thank you. I really, honestly appreciate you giving me this.” He holds up the boxed inhaler. “I didn’t think to grab mine when everything went down.”

“No worries,” she says, letting them out into the hallway. Sanshirou and Nisuke stand right outside the tiny office. Nisuke is eyeing him. With his gauntlets missing, Yoichi can see him balling up his fists. The doctor must sense some hostility in the air, because she clears her throat. “Harada, Nakano, please be kind to them. They’re not your enemies.”

“We’ll see,” Nisuke remarks, taking hold of Yoichi by the shoulder. Sanshirou flanks him on the other side, keeping his hands to himself but never more than a few feet away.

Yoichi manages to sneak one last look back before they turn a corner. Doctor Shuzenji gives a small ‘farewell’ wave.

-x-x-x-

They are, in fact, not taken to their bedroom, but instead to what was once a breakroom for the teachers. All appliances and furniture (besides a really uncomfortable-looking table with a couple of equally uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs to match) have been taken from the room, leaving it mostly barren. The only set of windows in the room are boarded up, but a few stubborn rays of sun peek through.

The two men led them in here and left.

Izuku fusses. In between sobs and muffled crying, Yoichi makes out his childish, heartbreaking pleas to go back ‘home’. To see his “daddy”. Cries of “can’t we please go home together?”

None of which Yoichi-no matter how much he loves and adores his nephew-has any intention of fulfilling. All he can offer in place of the promise of going home is the reassurance of a better, brighter future.

“Home!” He sobs, pulling on Yoichi’s hair.

“Ow, no, Izuku! Stop!”

“Home, now!” Izuku lets go of his hair, tiny fists slamming into his chest, neck, and face. Little legs kick at his shins.

He grimaces, loosening his grip on his nephew.

“Izuku, please,” he begs.

“Home! Home! Daddy will be so mad! Mad! Mad!” Izuku is crying again, but this time there’s a note of hysteria in his voice. Like he’s afraid of what Hisashi might do to him if he finds them missing. He wriggles off Yoichi’s lap, sliding to the floor next to the chair. The preschooler tugs on his hair, rocking back and forth. Izuku mutters to himself, teary eyes wide and unblinking.

What have you done, Hisashi?

Yoichi leans towards his nephew. Never before has Izuku ever acted like this. The closest he’s come is when his mother is mentioned. But he supposes this is what happens when you’re only fed lies about the outside world.

His hands hover just above his head, not moving. He doesn’t know if touching Izuku will trigger another reaction.

“Home. Home. Home. Safe. Safe. Bad Izuku. Bad! Bad! Bad!” His nephew repeats, continuing to rock back and forth.

The door opens, and Yoichi is suddenly very afraid for his nephew. What if these people decided they were broken and “disposed” of them? What if they took Izuku away from him? What if he never sees his nephew again? All because he allowed Hisashi to hurt him, to isolate Izuku and tell him lies.

What a failure of an uncle you are.

Nisuke stands in the doorway. He says nothing, eyes watching the scene unfold with limited concern.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the hunger pangs, or even all of today’s (and every other day before) events finally adding up, but Yoichi is fucking done .

“Can I help you?” He asks, fixing Nisuke with his best glare.

The man has the absolute audacity to smile. “No, but you look like you might need some.” He rounds the table, kneeling down to Izuku’s height.

“What-” Yoichi starts but is immediately cut off by Nisuke shaking his head.

“Hey, I like your PJs. Did you pick them out yourself?”

The question must confuse Izuku as much as it does Yoichi, because he stops his rocking and tugging on his hair to tilt his head up towards Nisuke. “No, Uncle Yoichi picks my clothes out,” he explains, like it should be obvious. “He’s very good at it.” Despite himself, Izuku gives Yoichi a small smile. “He’s very good at a lot of things. Maybe even the bestest.”

Yoichi feels his face warm up. It’s nice to know his efforts haven’t been for naught.

Nisuke nods, listening intently. “He sounds like a really good uncle.”

“Mhm!” Izuku agrees. “I love him very much!”

“Then why did you hurt him?”

Yoichi is taken back. Please, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.

Izuku’s face scrunches up like he’s going to start crying again, but he doesn’t. “Be-because I was very scared. I don’t like being scared.”

“I could see that. I don’t like being scared either. It doesn’t feel nice, does it?”

“Nuh, uh,” Izuku says, shaking his head.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Nisuke asks, lowering his voice to a loud whisper.

Excitedly, Izuku nods, scooting closer.

“I’m scared of bumble bees.” The confession earns a laugh from both Izuku and Yoichi.

“But…. but bumble bees…. afraid…” Izuku gets out between giggles.

“Shhh!” Nisuke shushes them. “Yes, tell the whole world why don’t you?”

“Bumble bees?” Yoichi asks, incredulously. “The fat, furry bees that bump into things?”

“Yes, really,” Nisuke says, fixing him with a look so dramatically distraught that Yoichi finally catches on.

“That’s silly,” Izuku says, sitting up on his knees. “But,” he starts, worrying his bottom lip, “Uncle Yoichi says it’s okay to be afraid sometimes. So, it’s okay if you feel scared of bumble bees,” as an afterthought, he adds, “even if they’re not all scary-looking.”

“Thanks, kid.” Nisuke reaches a handout but stops short of actually touching Izuku’s head.

Yoichi watches the exchange, brow furrowing.

Nisuke coughs, pulling his hand back. “Now, let’s get you two settled in.” He stands, turning back towards the still-open door. “Follow me,” he says, waving them onward.

#2nd ofa user dfo #cross posted on ao3 #mha yoichi #mha au #mha fanfiction #Be honest be truthful #uncle for one mha #dad for one #uncle for all

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emwritesstuff · 3 years

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as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine

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frostedfaves · 3 years

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Repercussions (12)

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Your girlfriends meet your cousin before they leave, and you explain everything to him over a game of Go Fish.

Warnings: dark themes, manipulation

A/N: I truly hope this was worth the long ass wait! although, I’m glad I didn’t rush it, because it turned out exactly the way I wanted it to. please feel free to share your thoughts, and I hope to have the next part out in the next couple days!

Previous part

“He’s here!”

You were on your feet and dragging your girlfriends to the door before the security gate bell even finished going off, letting go for a moment to open the front door and pulling them with you onto the porch.

“Printsessa, slow down!” Wanda slightly scolded with a laugh. “He can only drive so fast.”

The car approached the house quickly as it passed through the gate, and it was barely in park for two seconds before your cousin Wesley was climbing out and running to you. Running to meet him halfway, you jumped into his waiting arms and laughed when he lifted you as high as he could.

“I can’t believe you’re really here!”

“I know, me either!” Wesley agreed as he put you down. “I was starting to think you were too busy for widdle ol’ me.”

“Oh, whatever.” You hit his arm with a playful roll of your eyes. “Come meet my two reasons for being busy.”

Natasha and Wanda greeted your cousin with outstretched hands and surprised smiles when he hugged them instead. You watched with an appreciative grin as the three exchanged names and pleasantries before Wesley went back to the car to get his things, and Wanda pulled you back before you could move to help.

“Let Tash handle it, okay?” she instructed gently as Natasha stepped off the porch. “We don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You nodded and laced your fingers through hers, following the pair as Natasha led Wesley to his room on the main level.

“Wow. This room is bigger than my first apartment after college,” he commented as he placed his suitcase by the bed, observing every inch of the space.

“I’m glad you like it,” Wanda replied sweetly, still holding your hand. “We were just about to serve lunch, so feel free to join us once you’re settled.”

“Oh, and there’s a bathroom just next door,” Natasha added as she grabbed your other hand, the two pulling you out of the room and closing the door behind you.

“So...what do you think?” you asked once the three of you made it to the kitchen table.

“I think…” Wanda began, and you raised your eyebrows hopefully. “I see why you like him.”

For the rest of the day, you were careful to keep Natasha and Wanda with you under the guise that you wanted them to get to know Wesley, as well as your increasing need to cling to them before they left. Really, you knew they were planning to bug the two bedrooms that you and your cousin would be occupying because the cameras they planted around the house after your ‘suicide attempt’ didn’t record audio. They were far too sneaky to do it in your presence.

Leaving Wesley in the backyard, you followed your girlfriends to your shared room, working hard on building tears as you watched them grab their bags for the mission.

“Okay, printsessa,” Natasha started as she faced you, sighing at the sight of your watery eyes and pouting lips. “Baby, please don’t cry. I promise that we’ll be back before you even have time to miss us.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” you whined as you hugged yourself, averting your gaze to your feet.

“I know, sweet baby, I know.” Wanda hummed comfortingly as she wrapped her arms around you, Natasha joining on the other side. “But your cousin is here, and you’re going to have a really fun week! And I promise we will make it up to you when we get back.”

She pecked your cheek once, then twice, and suddenly the two of them were attacking you with cheek kisses until you playfully begged for mercy between giggles. You then took the time to give each of them a real kiss, once that hopefully conveyed how much you’d miss them in the upcoming days.

“Alright, printsessa, we really do have to go now.”

“Okay,” you sighed and grabbed their free hands in yours, walking them downstairs and to the front door in silence. You gave each of them one more prolonged hug before pulling away completely. “Get outta here before I cry again. And don’t forget to call me when you land.”

“Of course, and don’t forget your rules. We love you,” Wanda told you after a prolonged look with Natasha, and you took a shaky, deep breath.

“I love you, too.”

They squeezed your hands with tears in their eyes before grabbing their bags, and you watched from the porch as they got in the car, waving until they were past the gate. Once you were back inside, you went to the camera blind spot in the hallway and pulled the device from your pocket, turning it on to listen in from the bugs in their bags.

“Were you at least able to get a bug on his suitcase?”

“I thought you were going to!”

“I couldn’t. Printsessa’s eyes got all teary if I even stood too far away from her, and it broke my heart.”

“Well hopefully the cameras will be enough. I want to trust her more.”

“Me too...Can you believe she finally said it? I almost didn’t leave.”

You turned the device off after that, tucking it away again as you went toward the back door just as Wesley came back in.

“Are they gone?”

“Yeah.” You nodded toward the kitchen table. “Sit on the side facing the window so you can block my lips from the camera.”

He moved to take a seat while you grabbed a deck of cards, sitting on the opposite side of him with a wide smile. You shuffled the cards quickly and met his eyes again as you began to deal them out.

“I know you get into some wild situations, but I never expected that the next time I saw you would be to help you escape two Avengers.”

“Trust me, I didn’t see it coming either.” You sighed as you looked at the cards in your hand. “I appreciate you so much for coming though.”

“Of course...but how did you manage to get me here without them knowing it was your idea? They seem pretty detail oriented.”

“Pure observation, Wes.” The two of you played a silent game of Go Fish as you explained. “The plan kind of came together the day Wanda gave me the iPad. I’d taken some money in case I had a small chance to escape at any point and didn’t have a car to use, but I decided to use it for a cab ride when I got the message from Brittani.”

“But why meet with her if you knew you’d get caught with the tracker? You said so yourself that they found you pretty fast the first time.”

“I wanted to get caught, because I knew meeting with my ex-girlfriend would--at the very least--piss Natasha off enough to want to punish me. With the two of them knowing my mental health history, I knew I could use that as a tipping point for a downward spiral, leave little hints as the days passed that my mood was really dropping.”

“Okay…” Wesley paused to take the card you handed him and pair it off with the one in his hand. “So how did you know that Brittani would be at the store and have a phone for you?”

“She has an incredible memory, which is why I made it a point to drop a hint that I was only working with an iPad at the moment, and that I needed to run to the bodega across the street from the cafe to get a burner when I left.”

The two of you counted your pairs when you ran out of cards and you made sure to cheer with exaggeration when you realized you won. Wesley slid all of his cards toward you as you gathered them all to shuffle and deal again.

“I also told her the grocery store we go to is the best one in the city, and may have mentioned the day and time the three of us usually shop because it’s the least busiest time.”

“So when you got caught in front of her, she knew exactly how to help you!” he realized and you nodded. “Guess it only took one gun to the head to guilt them into letting you have a visitor. How are you feeling after that, by the way?”

“It was...nerve-wracking at first, but I was quick to remind myself that it was to help, not hurt.” You took the card from him and added it to yours. “You brought the tools, right?”

“Yeah. You want to do it tonight?” he asked, and you quickly shook your head.

“Absolutely not. They’re going to call in the morning when they get to the safe house, and then I’m going to listen in on the bug until they fall asleep. There’s a camera in the game room downstairs that can also see part of the TV room, but only the part of the couch near the doorway. We’re gonna sneak the tools down there and I’ll sit on that side while you remove the tracker from my ankle on the other side.”

“Good thing I paid attention in those surgical courses,” he joked and you laughed, drawing a card as your smile dropped.

“Listen, Wes...I know you agreed to this and already came out here, but I just want to give you one more chance to back out. If this whole plan works, we’re going to have to work hard to hide from them, and the consequences will be even more dire if we fail.”

“Despite how much time we spend apart, you’re always going to be my favorite person in the world. You have been since the day you were born, when your tiny middle finger flipped up at the doctor. I’m here until the finish line, no matter what that looks like.”

You offered him a grateful smile in return as the two of you moved to count your cards again, playfully rolling his eyes when he celebrated his win. As you gathered the pile for a tie-breaking game, you squeezed his hand across the table, grinning when he shifted into your childhood handshake. Every fiber of your being hoped everything went according to plan, for his sake more than anything. You refused to let him fall when he’d been catching you all your life.

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @nat-km-mh @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @creepingwolfberry @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @fayhar @bebe404 @becka107 @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @seventeen0 @trikruismybitch @cosmicbrownies7 @sxphiaswitch @mjaudrey @messuhp @wannabe-fic-reader @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @beforeoursecrets @want-to-watch-it-burn @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @witchxaf @darkangelxoxo @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloeee2 @sakurat123

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blackberry-gingham · 3 years

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Hewo :3

Saw you write headcanons ❤. Could ya do one of dati g the guys while being yourself a guitarist in another band ??

Thnks

Yus I can UwU

George

I honestly feel like guitar reader with George would be soooo cool and laid back!

Like, honestly any relationship with George I feel would be like a "we're friends first and foremost, and significant others second" deal

So even tho you guys are in seperate bands, there's never like any "ok, but ONE OF US has to be the better one" type of tension/joking lmao

It really is just a lot of you two practicing together, trading tips, and just all around honing your skills together

That said, I could see the two of you needing time away from your band mates a lot and so the brainstorming with each other is a bit of a cover up

It's not that you don't like your band, or him his, it's just that you need your space to recharge and the others can be a bit.... much, being rock stars and all

Anyway, the two of you are very skilled guitarists so there would definitely be plenty ideas worth picking each other's brains for!

I think you and George would've met during the Beatles hamburg days in a little dive type of place

Your careers took off in seperate ways later on, but you both just clicked at the time and so you kept in contact ever since!

Despite how close you are with George, you don't really come in to feature on a song or just hangout in studio with all the boys

Or vice versa for George and your band tbh

Everyone jokes about needing to keep an eye on you both before you run off together and make your own band lol

Secretly, you both have considered it, but you're happy with your current bands and besides you two have your thing going, and that suits you just fine

John

Ok, so not to step on anyone's toes but ???

I personally headcannon reader to be like a slightly, but noticably, better guitarist then John ????

Like things definitely get competitive between you two

At first, John's kinda jelous tbh

I'd just imagine any brainstorming or private practice sessions being a lot of you bouncing ideas off of him and him just being his brutally honest self and not really doing much bonding with you

At first, that is

Bc as we all know, the root of jealously is insecurity! So I think having reader around to encourage the real John out as well as your genuine admiration of his playing skills, would turn his attitude around!!

When it clicks for him, it's like an "um duh" moment where he realizes that you're not out trying to claim the title of "better then John Lennon" or something

Not everything is a competition, and besides, you love him! It doesn't matter who's "more talented"

I feel like you and John met backstage after a show, like maybe you and your band opened for the Beatles or even vice versa!!

He's a little begrudging of it, but from musician to musician, he just had to tell you how great you were that night

After that came a few chance run ins between your bands and before long, you and John figured why not?

I mean, you both at least respect each other's musical talent, why not get to know each other!

You come sometimes to listen in on the Beatles recording sessions, and it's not uncommon for the rest of the boys to kick John off lead guitar and have you "show him how it's done"

It's just a little inside joke at this point lmao

He likes to act all offended and huffy of course, but when you're not around he loves to brag to the lads about how amazing you are, both as a musician and a person!!

The boys can get a little annoyed on occasion when you do come over tho, seeing as recording time sometimes turns into a bit of pissing competition between you and John

But it's all in good fun and also sooo obvious you two love each other and enjoy having a little go at one another from time to time, so they're happy for you both

Paul

Finally, someone who isn't also a guitarist lmao

Of all the other boys, you and Paul compliment each other, musically and instrumentally that is, the MOST

Like John and Paul are the lyrical masterminds always and forever obviously, but if Paul is looking to get a certain tune out? He tries to get in contact with you whenever he can!

It's just that you get him, like John does, but in a different way, if that makes sense. You know?

He'll oftentimes bring his and John's lyrics and a bass sample he's got for it and ask your opinion on the bass playing and even what kind of guitar chords you think would work with it!

Your private practice sessions aren't all work tho, sometimes Paul just serenades you with his bass and his voice and the two of you chill together

You and Paul are DEFINITELY old friends, like from childhood days!!

You've known each other basically since forever, which is how you're able to craft sheet music so well together, but life simply took you in different directions to different bands

Once you two seperated for that while that he was in Hamburg, he realised just how much he missed you and didn't want to be without you or your expertise!

He was 100% going to ask you to join his band, but you had already found your own :/

That didn't matter too much tho, Paul figured the least he could do was finally ask you out so he wouldn't have to be without you!

You've been together ever since

Typically you don't really come to the Beatles studio sessions, but Paul has been known to come over to you and your bands sessions for sure!

Your bassist is just fine of course! But I mean... Who could say no to some tips and input from good ol macca?

The boys poke at Paul a lot for "cheating on them" with you when it comes to writing sheet music, but they can't deny that you come up with really good stuff together!!

Ringo

I think of all the boys, you and Ringo have like the least amount of tension between yourselves lol

Like there's a tiny bit of competition with any other string musician I'd think, but Ringo and his drums are in a whole other field!

Honestly, Ringo is just in awe of you and your skills

Granted, he doesn't really know enough about guitars to dissect the fine details of what makes you so great or compare you to John and George, but I mean... he thinks you sound absolutely incredible!!

Now, he's not the best drummer in the world, but he keeps great time and you love him for it! Especially when you two have practice time together

And he's so pleased to hear that

A lot of the time, Ringo likes to think he plays for you, rather then just with you and that internal motivation honestly helps push his skills to new heights!!

I feel like you two met totally by accident lol

Like he wandered into your recording studio by mistake one day

"Oh sorry, I heard the guitar and I thought you were George!"

You two share a laugh after he explains himself just a bit more, but you got on so quickly, that the rest is history!

Honestly, the other boys love having you there for their recording sessions

Like seriously, they appreciate you lol

They always tell you Ringo is at his absolute best when you're in the studio, and it's true!

It's to such a point that you've featured as a guest guitarist when the boys play live more then once, just to give Ringo that extra little push

Your favorite spot on stage is right beside him and his drums :)

Bonus:

In the post Beatles era, your Beatle either joins your band, or if that's lost as well, you two form a new group or just a plain duo together!

The transition is a bit of an adjustment period for your Beatle still, but having you there to support them after things fall apart is a HUGE relief

That, and having a familiar face who's also a talented musician to enter a new era of music making with is kind of exciting!

All in all, having you there eases your Beatles post breakup pain and you guys go on to make a couple iconic, landmark albums together ❤️

#beatles headcannons #beatles x reader #the beatles #paul mccartney x reader #ringo starr x reader #george harrison x reader #john lennon x reader #guitarist!reader

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chironshorseass · 3 years

Note

29 and 30 fluff for perachel or percabeth? Hehe I like both ships don’t @ me. Love your writing btw!

I kinda managed to do both...kinda lol. This was fun to do :) Sorry in advance for the bad puns.

writing prompts

“Detention? Again?”

“Look, I can explain.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and sat back on her bed, too tired to stand up and listen to what Percy had to say, most likely.

“Sure you can.”

They’d been Iris Messaging for a few minutes now. Percy, exhausted from a day of school and homework, had taken the first chance off to fish out a drachma from his drawer and call one of the people he’d missed most since the summer.

It had slipped his mind that New York and San Francisco had different time zones. But luckily, Annabeth was still awake. He’d found her in her bedroom, curls pulled into a messy bun and eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as she read some textbook, still studying for the exam she’d talked about a week ago.

Despite her initial complaints about Percy interrupting her, he knew that she didn’t mind.

“So?” she asked, bringing him back to the present.

She pulled her legs under her and stared at him expectantly.

He blinked. “Huh?”

She raised an eyebrow, and Percy thought—in the back of his mind—that she looked unfairly pretty. At night, with the fairy lights illuminating her hair and her face, like an angel.

“Why’d you get detention?”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, Seaweed Brain. That.”

“Uhm…” Percy scratched the back of his neck. “It’s kind of a funny story, I um…”

“Spit it out.”

Now that he thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe he should’ve thought this through, to avoid any arguments. Or confrontations. Or another cold shoulder. They weren’t as awkward now that the school year had started, but the mention of her always put Annabeth on edge, anyway.

“You see, I was with, uh...Rachel.”

He paused, noticing the way she gripped her textbook tighter, slightly wrinkling the pages.

Why did I think this was a good idea? Stupid.

“I was with Rachel, and she sort of, um...” he laughed nervously, already cringing. “Made a bet?”

Technically, he’d made the bet. But that wasn’t important for Annabeth to know.

Chemistry, in Percy’s opinion, was the most boring class Goode had to offer. Useless. Irrelevant.

Confusing, most of all.

At least he was partners with Rachel. It was one of the few classes they had together. They sat at the very back, so they were rarely noticed anyway, mostly spending the forty five minutes of lectures about chemical equations doing little drawing games on their notebooks and playing hangman. Percy lost most of the time.

The teacher wasn’t that great, either. Most of the school knew her as Mrs. Jones. She was a short lady in her late sixties with thin, badly dyed hair who had a concerning addiction to gum—so to Percy and Rachel—she was known as Mrs. Gum-Gum. She turned to the board for some explanation that Percy had completely lost interest on since the first five minutes of class. Rachel let out a low moan, hands on her forehead.

“Kill me now,” she muttered.

“Sorry, I can’t. My sword doesn’t work on you.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, leaning backwards and tilting his chair. “I know.”

She hit him in the shin. “You’re going to fall one of these days, and the class will never let you forget it.”

“Eh,” Percy shrugged. “At least they’d get a laugh and you wouldn’t be so bored.”

Her green eyes twinkled with humor like she’d just remembered something. She snorted. “Okay. So this one time, a girl was doing the same thing as you, leaning back and all—and she like, fell. It was hilarious, because she just lay there, with her feet in the air.”

“Rachel Dare,” Gum-Gum called, narrowed eyes cast on them. She kind of sounded like a wounded hyena, in his humble opinion. “I sure hope you and Mr. Jackson are discussing the worksheet that I gave out.”

Rachel nodded and threw her a thumbs up, while Percy held a fist to his mouth to stop the smile forming on his face. Gum-Gum left her alone and went back to her lecture.

The class kept its monotone routine of worksheets and notes, so as a distraction, Rachel grabbed his arm and popped the lids off her sharpies, drawing little figurines. She was on his second tattoo when an idea came to him.

“Hey, Rach?” he whispered, making sure the teacher was facing the board.

“Hmm.”

“We should play truth or dare.”

She grabbed the green marker and spread the ink from side to side across his skin. “Mmm...No.”

“Come on,” he whined. “I’m bored.”

“Yeah, but we’ve done truth or dare so many times now. It’s gotten old. Besides, you’re such a pussy.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are. Remember that time I dared you to eat the gum from under the seat?”

Percy made a face. “That was so fucking gross. Nobody in their right mind would’ve done that. Maybe Mrs. Gum-Gum, but I am not on her level.”

“I figured, after you blatantly refused. And then there’s the time when I dared you to kiss Mary Andrews. On the cheek. And you couldn’t do it.”

“Oh my gods, I can’t just kiss girls. That’s leading them on.”

She exhaled, long and deep and stared at him as if he were a lost cause. “Okay. Whatever.”

She went back to drawing on his arm.

“If anyone’s the pussy right now,” he whispered. “It’s you.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. You just wish you were as marginally cool as me.”

“Um...Then why won’t you play truth or dare?”

“Like I said: bo-ring.” She leaned closer to his arm, creating tiny details with the thinner side of the sharpie. “And don’t tell me I don’t do the dares, ‘cause I do. My last name’s Dare, after all. It would be a complete dishonor.”

“How long have you waited to say that?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know. Now hold still. You’d look good with tattoos, by the way.”

He sighed. Okay, fine. She had a point, he wasn’t that great at doing “cool” stuff, likely because he was traumatized by the getting-kicked-out-of-schools thing he had going for him. You know, maybe it was that.

As Percy watched her work with her sharpies, he realized: maybe there was a way to prove to her that he could do daring stuff. A once in a lifetime thing. And in the process, he could make her smile.

“Fine,” he said. “If you don’t wanna do something, then let’s make a bet.”

“Depends on what you want to bet on, but go on.”

“How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”

The read-head stopped creating the swirly lines of the little wave she’d been working on, making his skin tingle from the loss of the pointy marker. She lifted her freckled face, watching him with raised eyebrows.

“Nah, you don’t have the guts.”

“Psh. ‘Course I do. I’m Percy Jackson.”

“Ohhh! Percy Jackson. I’m Rachel Dare, nice to meet you.” She lifted her hand like she wanted Percy to shake it.

He slapped it away. “Shut up. I can totally do it.”

“Do you not care about getting in trouble with dear ol’ Gum-Gum?”

“I’ll make it seem like an accident.”

“Nothing you do seems like an accident to teachers.”

“Good point. Still be worth it, though.” He lowered his voice even further. “Besides, I gotta prove to you that I can do cool stuff.”

Rachel snorted. “Now I could literally ask you to do drugs and you’d do it, apparently. Peer pressure is a dangerous thing, my dude.”

He grinned. “And I want your money. You’re like, rich, Dare.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Jackson.”

“No problem.”

Gum-Gum shot them an admonishing look, and they pretended to do their work.

“So,” she said after a few seconds passed. “How much money?”

“I knew you could work with me.”

“Ugh, I’m getting second thoughts from your dramatism.”

“You love it.”

They held gazes, green on green. Rachel narrowed hers and sighed.

“Again, how much money?”

Percy shrugged. “You decide.”

“Fine.” She flipped some of her fiery curls over her shoulder. “I’m betting on a hundred bucks.”

He whistled under his breath. “Damn. You want me to do it that badly?”

“I do want to see everyone’s reaction to Percy Jackson losing his shit.” He shoved her, but she continued. “Especially Gum-Gum’s. But I know we’re getting in trouble, so we might as well go all out. What? It’s true! But at least you’d get your money.”

Percy shook his head. He’d probably regret this later.

Then he thought, what would Annabeth think?

But he couldn't dwell too much on that. At least it would be funny.

“We need to clear the desk, though.”

“Duh.”

So they worked, as quietly and discreetly as they could. When they’d finished, Percy turned to Rachel and nodded. She put a hand against her mouth to muffle her laughter.

On the third count, he flipped the desk. The table crashed with a resonating bang.

Rachel leaned backwards and let out a sound of surprise, probably because she’d half speculated that he wouldn’t pull through with it in the first place.

Immediately, everyone craned their heads to the back of the room. Some jumped at the sound. Others gasped or snickered, especially at the sight of Mrs. Gum-Gum. She yelped and dropped her marker, slapping a hand to her chest and retreating a few steps as if she were about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Percy Jackson!”

He winced a bit, but all in all, he thought he was keeping a straight face. But then he caught onto Rachel’s expression, arms crossed. He doubted they’d get off freely, just as she’d said.

As they shouldered their backpacks, heading for room 1345—detention—Rachel slipped her hand in the pocket of her paint-splattered uniform skirt.

“I didn’t know I had the money with me, but it seems as though he fates are in your favor, Jackson,” she said, taking the dollar bills from her pocket and handing them to him. They both knew all too well that she didn’t care for it. Daddy issues, he recalled.

Percy raised his eyebrow. “Thanks, Rach. Now, I can finally buy a new skateboard.”

“Nice to know that this was worth it.”

“Especially since now you have to do something...daring.”

She tapped her index finger to her temple mockingly. “Oh, I see. That’s why you wanted to do that bet. So then we could be on even ground.”

“Do you agree, Dare?”

“My gods, you’re so corny. But sure. Though let's not get ourselves a detention pass the next time, hmm? I feel bad for you. How many have you gotten this semester?” She clicked her tongue. “What will your mom say?”

1343, 1344 ... 1345. This was the place. Through the window, he could see many of the students already settling in, giving the teacher the strip of paper that he and Rachel had in their pockets.

He exhaled. “I don’t want to think about Mom just yet. But honestly, I don’t mind detention. And I don’t think she would, either. Better than getting kicked out.”

“Mmhmm. And I don’t really mind spending some more quality time with you. Even if we get in trouble, I kinda think you’re nice to be around, Jackson.” She smiled and held her arm out for him to pass. For some reason, that comment made his chest feel warm and fuzzy. “Gentlemen first.”

“Isn’t it ladies first?”

“Chivalry is dead. Now go on.” She nodded towards the door. “I like being fashionably late.”

“And you say I’m the dramatic one,” he grumbled.

#anon #writing prompts #perachel #percabeth #pjo fic #also this dragged out and idk I got lazy #look mom i can write

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pettyprocrastination · 3 years

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queer and feelin longing emotions and thinkin bout shortcake and the harleyyyhhh: when she first sees you shes like 👁👄👁 speechless, How could you possibly get hotter??? ure driving into frankie's driveway because you all are carpooling to meet the guys for a night out. she meets u in a daze at the end of the drive while youre taking the keys out of the ignition.

"i didnt know you owned a motercycle" she says, her face growing warm while u kick out the kickstand.

"oh um, yeah! i do!" you say with a nervous chuckle; your heart always races when youre around shortcake, but you've never seen her look at you Quite like this.

"why do i never see you riding it?" she asks, glancing down every so often as you absent mindedly start fidgeting, rubbing ur hands against the seat and the handle bars.

"ummm, i really only ride it when i need to think on some stuff or when i need to calm down," you explain. "its also really impractical for days i have a certain way i want my hair to look" u chuckle as u unclick the buckle to your helmet and hope, as youre taking it off, that your helmet hair isnt unseemly today.

"is everything okay? have you been on edge lately?" she asks, her brow furrowed. you smile at her but it doesnt quite meet your eyes.

"a little, but i'm working through it" you respond, you grasp the handle bars a little harder, u hadnt meant to let That slip.

shortcake seems unsure but after a moment she reaches out to gently lay her hand atop yours and u loosen ur grasp. "is there anything i can do to help?" she asks softly, kindly. you feel so Seen, so Loved; shes only touching your hand but you can feel the warmth of it through your entire body. "i'll uhhhh i'll let you know?" you leave it open ended, because you dont Think its possible for her to help you with your growing feelings....But you Never Know. the answer seems to appease her, for now at least.

youre together in this moment quietly, contently, a single innocent touch and your gaze at one another are all that connects one another to the present. you hear the front door of the house open and shut, you both suddenly move your hands away; the self depricating thoughts, quickening heart rates, and warm faces are all that you share now.

"hey, nice to see you bringin the ol girl out for a change" frankie says while walking towards the two of you. he raises an eyebrow at you, "you good?"

you nod, "i will be." he nods back, knowing. that sometimes you arent ready to talk about what thoughts ail you.

"oh hey your hair is a little..." he starts, moving his hand up to you head before stopping, "can i uhhh-" "oh yeah sure, thanks" you say, quickly. as frankie messes with your hair, you feel your stomach do flips and shortcake admires how sweet you look together.

he steps back admiring you- his amazing skills as a hair stylist, "better than ever" he says with a grin.

"oh wait hold on, you missed something can i just real quick" shortcake says, searching for consent. you nod you head at her and now she hands taking back stray pieces or smoothing out others. you shiver slightly as she tucks your hair behind your ear? you arent sure she actually moved anything that time. frankie is watching the two of you intently; he loves the careful way she tends to you and the way your eyes flutter shut every so often.

she moves back, and says "there, now we're good" with a soft smile. frankie smiles at her and gives her a quick peck on the cheek, "i love your attention to detail," he says, adoration in his eyes as she giggles.

"thanks," you whisper. you dont want to ruin this moment with your feelings butting in; they are so happy together, you wish so desperately you could make Them that happy.

frankie pats his pockets until he finds and fishes out his keys, "i'll go start the car, you can set your helmet inside the garage if you want?" he offers. "that'd be great thank you," you say, unstraddling the bike and the couple, unbeknownst to the other, watch a tad too intently as you do.

shortcale shakes herself out of slightly inappropriate gaze and decided to walk you up to a garage, "i've never ridden a motercycle before, it seems like fun" she says, just to fill the silence.

you're quiet, comtemplating for a moment. "would you like to?"

she laughs out a breath "oh i would love too. its a shame you dont have a second helmet, we could ride together"

you glance at her and grin a little before turning around to call out, "hey frankie? you still got that helmet i leant u?"

(idk why im writing i Got homework to do and like i keep thinking tumblr is gonna cut me off with a word count or a character limit but No they just let me Keep Going for like AN HOUR, anyways 👄👁👄

Anon I offer you my hand in marriage the dowry is easy: just keep sending me asks (also go do your homework babes!!)

I absolutely LOVE THIS AAAAA

Also the thought of shortcake going for a ride with you hhh. Her arms are tight around your waist and the engine is rumbling in her ears as shes pressed against your back, it makes you grip the handlebars tighter and at a stoplight you have to take a deep breath to calm yourself. She's never ridden a motorcycle before but in the moment, cruising down the road with her arms around you, she feels safe and secure and wants it to last forever.

Frankie walks outside just as you pull up the driveway.

"How was it?"

Shortcake tugs the helmet off with a giggle and he takes in her wild hair. "So much fun! I never knew it'd be so relaxing."

She never knew how nice it felt to have you in her arms.

Frankie ignores the way his heart hammers wildly in his chest by seeing the way shortcake, his girlfriend, stares as you lean on the handlebars of your bike. He sees her flushed face and hears the hitch in her breathe when she looks at you.

He tells himself it's from the weather. It has to be. Theres no way she feels the same way for you as he does. That's just his own mind taunting him with a fantasy.

That's just him being selfish.

"I should probably head out." Your voice breaks them both out of their own head. Both members of the couple you dreamed of each night wearing a face like a kicked puppy.

"Are you sure? You can stay for dinner if you want-"

"We can order takeout and-"

You hold your hands up in an apologetic gesture. "As fun as its be to watch you guys argue over pizza toppings again, I'll have to pass. I've got an early shift tomorrow. I should get home before it's late so I can get some sleep."

The hand that frankie held on his girlfriend's waist tightened as you backed out of the driveway and into the street with a final wave.

He knew you didn't work tomorrow

"Is she gonna be alright?" Shortcake's voice was tiny, barely heard over the roar of your engine as you drove off.

Frankie knew you were going to spend the whole night driving without a destination.

"Yeah." He pressed a comforting kiss to her temple. "She's alright, just needs to clear her head. We all get like that."

He knew at somepoint in the night you'd stop at that one 24-hour dinner you loved, he would probably stay up and meet you there. If you didnt want to talk about what was bothering you that'd be fine. He would simply order himself a burger as the two of you spoke about whatever nonsense came to mind at 3am before leaving, usually with you following him home and crashing on his couch.

You hadn't done that in a long time. He wonders why.

"I worry about her."

Ah. Right. That's why.

Shortcake leaned her head on his shoulder and he felt a steady thrum in his chest.

"Me too."

Maube he would take her with him tonight. She'd like the fries.

#ask #asks #babe ur KILLING ME WKTH THESE I LOVE THEM #anyways i wejt slightly angsty with it but i cannot compare to your skill #also i hipe you get that homework done so you can relax!!!#you deserve to chill!!#shortcake tag

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ericsonclan · 3 years

Text

A Mysterious Bundle

Summary: Louis and Marlon return from a quest with a mysterious acquisition.

Word Count: 5833

Read on AO3:

“Maisy Mason, you get your ass down from that rigging right now!” Clementine scowled up at her eldest child, her hand on her hip.

Maisy peered down from amongst the ropes, smiling innocently. “What is it, Mama?”

Did you or did you not fill Zachariah’s hammock with potato peels last night?”

“Uncle Omar said to get rid of them-”

“Not in a hammock he didn’t! Now you get down here right this instant!”

Maisy was loath to do so but soon scurried down, little whimpers and sobs escaping her lips as she approached her mother.

“No crocodile tears, today. You know that won’t work with me like it does with your father. Now hold on to my other pant leg while I decide what to do with you,”

Maisy obliged, ignoring the curious gaze of her two year old brother Lee Kenny as he clung to his mother’s right pant leg for support in standing up.

Clementine’s eyes scanned the ship, looking for some task to assign her daughter as punishment. Over by the cartography room, Aasim was still picking potato peels off his five year old son’s back. Ruby was steering the ship, her daughter Savannah sleeping peacefully in the sling on her back and Willy was up in the crows nest with Allison. Violet and Prisha were heading off somewhere hand in hand. Clementine called out. “Vi, where you two heading?”

Violet turned around. “Nowhere really. Just scraping barnacles off the side of Ol’ Kickass.”

Perfect. “I have a volunteer who’ll join you!”

“Nooooo, Mom, anything but that!” Maisy begged, looking up at her mother with pleading eyes. “Barnacle duty is soooo boring!”

“That’s why it’s your punishment. Now scoot!” Clementine nudged her daughter forward and Maisy trudged off in dejection, walking beneath Violet and Prisha’s joined hands to the edge of the ship.

“Mama?” Lee Kenny wiggled round, tugging at Clementine’s pant leg.

“What is it, baby?”

“Poopoo,”

Clementine sighed and picked her son up. Her peg leg clacked against the wooden planks of the ship as she carried him over toward the head. Potty training was a process, especially at sea. Eventually Lee Kenny would be able to go on his own though and she’d be able to say goodbye to the poopy diapers and soiled pants stage of her life. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

Once Lee Kenny was done on the potty, Clementine decided to take a break from his walking practice and opted to carry her son on her hip, humming a soft tune to him as she looked out at the open sea. She’d expect Louis and Marlon home by now. They’d said something about a potential bounty and left early this morning. Surely if there was anything to find they would have succeeded by now. Clementine was about to give up her search when she heard a sharp whistle overhead.

“The captain and first mate off the port bow!” Willy declared, his spyglass pointed to the south. Clementine looked off in the same direction, squinting. She could only make out a speck, but that must be them. Clementine hurried over to the entrance below decks. “Sophie! Louis and Marlon are almost back!”

A clattering could be heard from the sleeping quarters before Sophie shot out, her son Raylan barreling underfoot and her daughter Marley on her shoulders. Sophie emerged above decks with a joyous laugh. “Finally!” I was going stir crazy on kiddo duty,” Her hair stuck out at odd angles, filled with all sort of ribbons and knickknacks Marley had decided to decorate it with.

“Dad’s back!” Raylan exclaimed, racing over to watch his return.

“Not so close to the edge, Raylan! Remember what happened last time!” Sophie warned. She and Clementine shared a sympathetic, frazzled glance before walking over to join him.

Eventually the boat arrived. As soon as Marlon reached the deck he swept his wife and children up in a hug, pressing kisses to all their faces and chuckling as his children peppered him with questions. Rosie and Sophie’s monkey Eight who’d tagged along on the adventure as well, were right behind him. Rosie slobbered all over Raylan’s face in greeting then got on her hind legs in attempt to reach Marley who reached down towards her with a laugh. Eight scrambled off of Rosie’s back and climbed up Sophie’s leg till he reached Marley and could give the toddler a hug.

Louis was a bit slower in his climb. He seemed to be holding some sort of parcel to his chest carefully as though he feared he would break it. As he emerged on deck, he smiled warmly over at his wife and son. “We’re back! Did you miss us?”

“Daddyyyy!” Lee Kenny wriggled in his mother’s arms, signaling he wanted down. As soon as his feet hit the floor he waddled over as fast as he could to his father, clinging happily to his pant leg.

Louis beamed down at his son. “Look who’s gotten so good at walking! Great job, kiddo!”

“Is that the bounty?” Clementine asked, nodding to the bundle Louis held.

“Not quite. The bounty turned out to be a no go but we found something else that we had to bring back with us,” The look in Louis’ eyes was uncertain but hopeful.

Clementine raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly is that?”

Louis lowered the bundle in his arms enough so Clementine could see what lay inside. There slept a baby with dark brown skin and a full head of hair.

Clementine looked up in shock. “Whose baby is this?”

“Well, considering that she had nobody when we found her, I guess she’s ours,”

“She?”

“Her name is Juliet,” Louis smiled down at the baby in his arms, clearly already smitten.

“Back up. Tell me exactly what happened that led to you bringing a baby back onboard. Start from the beginning,”

Louis and Marlon shared a look. Louis cleared his throat then began. “Well, I guess you could say it all started this morning when we headed out for that bounty mission off the coast of Bluff’s Point…”

---

“So what exactly did the description of the quest say again?” Marlon asked as he rowed out toward Crab Isle.

Louis paused his rowing to fish the pamphlet out of his pocket. “Wanted: hunters to acquire crab meat from the famous Gurlinder crabs of Crab Isle. Will pay top dollar for the real deal,”

“So it’s an exotic meal quest. We’ve done those before. I wonder what makes the crabs so expensive,”

“Rarity probably,” Louis shrugged. “It’s not the most exciting quest we’ve ever taken on, but with so many mouths to feed on Ol’ Kickass we don’t have the luxury to be picky anymore. Besides, whatever crabs we don’t sell we can cook up ourselves,”

“How do we know we’re grabbing a Gurlinder crab and not just a regular crab?”

Louis squinted. “Well, according to the description, Gurlinder crabs have yellow top halves, red bottom halves and blue arms. That sounds pretty distinctive to me,”

Rosie barked in agreement. Louis grinned and reached out to give her some pats before rejoining the rowing effort. Eight was asleep upon Marlon’s shoulder, his tail curled against the pirate’s chest. Clearly the monkey had deemed the voyage too boring and was waiting for their arrival.

“We getting close?” Marlon asked, glancing behind him.

“Yep! The island’s finally in sight,” Louis looked toward the island, its heavy forests the only visible thing at the moment. “I’d say another half hour of rowing and we’ll get there,”

Once they had reached the island and successfully pulled the rowboat ashore, the tiny crew set out in search of the famed crabs. Rosie got to work at once, her nose to the ground as she started the hunt. Eight found some crabs almost immediately but they weren’t the right ones; the monkey chased the tiny hermit crabs to and fro along the shore, eager to grasp their shiny shells. Louis and Marlon kept their eyes peeled but were having no luck.

“Think we have to dig for them?” Marlon stuck the toe of his boot in the sand, overturning a small pile.

“Hmmm, the quest flyer doesn’t have anything on the crabs’ habitat or how to locate them,” Louis squinted as if the secret was hidden somewhere between the lines on the page. “You’d think the people that post these would give a bit more detail,”

“Eh, rich folk never think of those things. They just pay the servants to figure details out,” Marlon glanced Louis’ way. “Except for you, of course,”

“A reformed rich boy,” Louis winked. His eyes widened though as they flitted across the sand. “Woah, did you see that? I think it was one of them!”

“Where?” Marlon spun around, doing a 360 in search of the crab.

“Right over that dune. It disappeared behind it and- there it is again! It’s huge!”

The crab was indeed massive, the size of a dinner platter. The captain and his first mate ran after it, Rosie and Eight in tow.

“That must be why they’re so valuable – the size!” Marlon exclaimed as they ran. “A crab that big could feed a whole family!”

“Imagine cracking into one of its claws! It’d be like eating a whole leg of lamb!” Louis’ breath came in little puffs as he sprinted across the beach to claim their prize. “Shit, I think it spotted us! You take right, I’ll take left. We’ll cut it off before it reaches the woods!”

Marlon nodded and followed suit. The pair split off, each hoping to capture the crab that was making a beeline toward the dense forest. It would be a close call, but they could make it. The two men circled back towards each other, ready to meet in the middle to nab the crab.

Just as they were almost upon it though, a deep rumble issued from the forest. The sand on the beach shifted as the ground shook and both men froze, leaving the crab to run off into the woods unimpeded. Both men shared a look.

“What the hell was that?” Marlon asked.

Before he could speak further, they had their answer. A massive claw shot out from between the branches of the trees, followed by a leg that matched the size of the trunks around it. A second later, beady eyes could be seen atop the massive disk that formed the body. This was it: a true Gurlinder crab.

“What the shit,” Louis breathed, frozen in fear. Then his survival instincts kicked in. “What the shit!” Both pirates turned tail and sprinted back towards the boat. Rosie ran ahead of them, barking like crazy while Eight finally looked up from his pursuit of the hermit crabs and joined the crew in running for their lives. The rowboat was all the way on the other end of the beach. Would they make it?

They would not. The giant crab came barreling onto the beach, blocking their way and snapping its claws in the air menacingly. Louis and Marlon stopped dead in their tracks, sharing a look. Their swords would have little to no effect against the crab’s bony exterior. Even Marlon’s gun might not be enough and they couldn’t risk the sound drawing in more of these behemoths. Their only choices were to run, but would they go forward or back?

“We gotta reach the boat!” Marlon declared before surging forward. His valiant effort was met with immediate retaliation. The crab lowered its massive claw, reaching out towards the blond pirate who barely dove to the ground in time.

“Marlon!” Louis leapt forward to help his friend to his feet.

At this point the crab seemed truly pissed. Lifting its leg, it brought it down as though intending to impale to pirates. Both men rolled out of the way just in time. Moving forward wasn’t an option after all. They’d have to seek shelter. Running along the shoreline, their eyes searched for any sort of hiding place.

“Do we risk the woods?” Louis asked breathlessly, running as fast as he could.

“And risk coming across more of these things?” Marlon shook his head. “We need something else!” He turned his head to look out at the ocean. Nothing at all. All that was left was the beach, but that only held sand. At the end of the shore though, by the reef… “There!” Marlon pointed to a rock formation by the water. “The crevice between those two rocks – it can’t reach us there!”

The crab was gaining on them. They had to hurry. Giving it their all, Marlon and Louis sprinted toward the rocks. Rosie reached them first, Eight clinging to her back. She barked worriedly, waiting for them to catch up. The pair didn’t even slow down as they reached the rocks. Marlon shot through the opening first, followed by Rosie and Eight and Louis right behind. Louis let out a yelp as he ran, tumbling and rolling in the sand right as he cleared the crevice. They all looked back to see the crab’s claw jammed in the crevice, still trying its best to reach them.

“It jabbed my ass,” Louis whimpered, his face still in the sand. Marlon walked over and helped his friend to his feet. They took a moment to look at the crab’s struggle and reassure themselves that it couldn’t break through. They were safe… for now. Turning round, they began to make their way down the new stretch of beach that was open to them.

“So what now?” Marlon sighed, looking out to the sea. “If we’re not back in the next few hours, everybody’s gonna panic,”

“Then we find another way home. We’ll comb the beach for supplies and if that doesn’t work, we’ll face the forest. Lash a raft together from logs or something,”

“And what will we fell trees with? My cutlass? Your rapier?”

“Maybe we can find fallen logs,” Louis offered. His face fell almost immediately though. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s just see what we come across,”

The island was massive. After twenty minutes of walking, the group had only circled the first bend. There were no fallen logs or other building materials in sight upon the beach. They’d soon have to turn to the forest and risk facing more crabs. That was when Louis spotted something. “Hey, you see that or am I just crazy?”

Marlon glanced over and his face immediately brightened. “Holy shit, it’s a boat!” A pale blue rowboat lay nestled upon the edge of the water, moored on a sand dune. They sprinted toward it only for their hearts to almost immediately falter. The boat was wrecked. The back half had been totally decimated, pieces torn and crushed irreparably. This was more than a patch job could fix. Perhaps it was another Gurlinder crab’s doing. Marlon still examined the exterior of the boat, hoping against hope that the boat was somehow salvageable. Meanwhile Louis began searching inside the boat for usable supplies. Rosie hopped inside, sniffing everything thoroughly. There didn’t seem to be much. A crumpled sail that was completely ruined lay in tattered pieces across the base of the boat. Piles of seaweed and sand had worked their way in with the rising tide. This ship looked to be recently abandoned. Or perhaps it had washed upon shore, its passengers, lost to the sea.

Rosie sniffed at one particular part of the sail with interest. Coming over, Louis pulled back the fabric to reveal a lumpy blanket underneath. Perhaps there was food there? Louis leaned forward to examine the blanket more closely and let out a gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Marlon asked, his hand immediately upon his saber.

Louis took the blanket in his arms and stared at it in awe. Gently, he pushed back a corner to reveal what lay inside: a baby. Louis cautiously pressed a hand to its forehead. “Still alive, just sleeping,”

Marlon came over to examine the baby. “How long has it been alone? We need to get it food, water at least!”

“The flask by my hip. Open it,”

“Lou, alcohol is not gonna do this baby any-”

“It’s full of water, OK? I just pretend there’s alcohol in there to look tough!”

Marlon gave Louis a look that told him he would take that secret to his grave then got the flask out and held it to the baby’s lips. Pushing them open just slightly, he let the water spill slowly into the baby’s mouth.

The infant woke immediately, letting out a strained cry. Louis laid the babe over his shoulder, patting its back softly. “Hey, hey. It’s ok. We’re here. You’re gonna be ok,”

Marlon looked round for any other signs of life. Nothing. Whoever the baby’s parents or guardians were, they had likely perished at sea. No one would leave a child unguarded in the open like this. As Louis bounced the baby and tried to calm it, he circled the boat, looking for anything that might tell them where it had come from. There was nothing more except the name of the boat painted in pink, faded lettering. Juliet.

Louis bounced the baby for a few seconds longer before the smell hit him, one that had been buried deep within the folds of the blanket. “Marlon, see if you can find a clean portion of that sail and cut it off. We’re gonna need to do a diaper change,”

A few minutes later with the use of a length of weathered sail and some leaves scavenged at the outskirts of the forest for cleanup, the baby had a new diaper. Louis picked up the baby once more, wrapping the blanket round its tiny arms and legs. “We should name her Juliet,”

“Juliet? After the boat? What about finding her parents or relatives?” Marlon looked at his friend with concern.

“We’re leagues off from the coast, at least a hundred miles from any port or town. Whatever family she had in that boat is gone. Maybe it’s strange to name her after the boat we found her in, but it’s the only part of her past we know,” Louis watched the baby with care, stroking a damp lock away from her forehead,”

“Well, if we want her past to have a future to it, we’ll need to find a way to get off this island. And Juliet’s a no go,”

“Back to our boat then?” Louis met Marlon’s eyes. “Do we have any other choice?”

“No. I guess we don’t,”

“Then we head back,”

The two men walked side by side, Rosie to Marlon’s right and Eight scampering along the shore to Louis’ left playing with leaves and other odds and ends. Juliet still cried intermittently, wriggling within Louis’ arms. Most of the water he offered her got spit up on her dress but at least a few drops got in so Louis kept trying. The forest was silent, eerily so. Perhaps the Gurlinder crab they’d run into had been one of the last of its kind. They could only pray that was the case.

“What’s Clem going to think when you bring a baby home?” Marlon asked, glancing over at Louis.

Louis was silent for a moment, deep in thought. “I don’t know. It feels the same as when we found her and AJ though: stranded, helpless. If Clem was here instead of me, I figure she’d do the same thing. That’s what Ericson Pirates have always done: taken in the outcasts and give them a home,”

“So you’re planning to keep her then?”

Louis looked down at the baby in his arms. Juliet had settled a bit and was gnawing hungrily on his finger. “I can’t make that decision without Clem. But I can’t help feeling like we were meant to find her. Maisy’s been asking for a little sister, y’know,”

“Clem laughed when she said that,”

“True… but can anyone say no to a face like this?” Louis held out Juliet who had started to happily gurgle as she clung to his finger.

Marlon smiled down. “Hell, if Clem feels overwhelmed, Soph and I can take a turn with her. Ruby loves babies too. Everyone will pitch in,”

“Just like we have for all of the kids,” Louis beamed down at Juliet, trying to get her to smile. “You hear that, Juliet? You’re gonna have a whole pirate family!”

As they began to round the corner of the beach, the forest ceased to be silent. They could hear rumblings from deep within as well as noises ahead. Both men drew their swords.

“It sounds like a lot of them,” Marlon noted, his eyes scanning the treeline.

“We couldn’t even handle one,”

“Then we’ll have to hope we can sneak around them,” As they rounded the corner, Marlon and Louis were prepared for the worst.

It was even worse than they imagined. The beach that only 20 minutes ago was completely clear was now crawling with Gurlinder crabs. The massive beasts along the sand, intermingling and waving their claws at each other. There had to be dozens of them.

“What the shit is going on?” Louis whispered. He tucked his coat further around Juliet protectively.

“Mating season? That’s the only reason I can think of,” Marlon watched the crabs cautiously. “If that’s the case, they’ll be way more focused on each other than us. That first one was probably pissed we messed with a baby crab. If we leave them alone, maybe they won’t even notice us,”

“That’s all we can hope for. Keep Rosie and Eight close,”

They headed out in a line, Marlon leading the way with Rosie behind him and Eight on her back. Louis took up the rear, rocking Juliet softly in hopes that she would stay quiet till they reached safety. Skirting the treeline, they walked along the edge of the beach, trying to keep out of the crabs’ way. Marlon’s hunch seemed to be right. The crabs shifted from side to side, waving their claws in rhythmic motions at each other. They must be trying to attract mates.

Their progress was going as smoothly as could be expected. Occasionally they’d have to freeze and wait for a crab to lumber on by or scurry out the way as a new crab exited the forest. Overall though, the Gurlinder crabs seemed utterly unaware of them, focused entirely on their courtship dances. Marlon felt himself breathing a sigh of relief. Rosie was staying nearby to protect the baby and Eight was happily chewing on the gold ducat Marlon had given. Juliet seemed to have fallen asleep as well. They just needed a few more minutes to reach the crevice and they’d be in the clear.

All of a sudden, Marlon felt a pressure from behind. Before he could turn round, he was yanked into the air by his collar. “Woahhh, shit!”

“Marlon!” Louis watched in horror as his best friend was lifted up on the end of a Gurlinder crab’s claw. Drawing his sword, Louis ran forward and began to whack the nearest leg of the creature. “Give him back! Drop him!” Rosie joined in the struggle, biting angrily at the crab leg again and again while Eight screamed in outrage and threw pebbles. The crab hardly seemed to notice them, instead drawing Marlon closer to its beady eyes and gazing at him in curiosity.

Marlon wriggled wildly, brandishing his cutlass in an effort to scare the beast off. “Fuck, I think it wants to eat me!”

“Maybe it’s just mistaken you for another crab!” Louis offered, trying to jab his sword into the joints of the beast to no avail. “After all, you’re yellow on top just like them!”

“You mean my hair?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“So then it wants to mate with me?!” Marlon looked at the crab with fear, struggling even more to escape.

“Or maybe it thinks you’re a baby cause you’re so tiny!”

“Nu uh, fuck this!” Sheathing his scabbard, Marlon pulled out a dagger. Cutting through the collar of his shirt, he sawed at the material till it snapped and sent him plummeting to the ground where he tucked and rolled with a grunt before rising to find the crab still staring at him. It was not pleased to see him go. Taking steps forward, the crab began to pursue Marlon, almost crushing its attackers underfoot in the process. Letting out a frightened cry, Marlon ran away.

“Keep aiming for the rocks, Marlon!” Louis shouted, sprinting behind the pursuing crab. Juliet had been awakened by all the commotion and started to cry again, causing Rosie to bark in concern. All the noise drew the attention of the other crabs, who began to move toward them, curious as to what was going on. Louis swore under his breath, barely skirting a curious claw that was reaching his way. “Go between their legs, Mar! It can’t follow you there!”

Everything was chaos. Marlon frantically weaved between the enormous deadly legs of others crabs in an attempt to escape his pursuer but nothing seemed to work. The Gurlinder crab was still only seconds behind him. Meanwhile Louis tried to keep up with a baby in tow and make sure Rosie and Eight didn’t get caught up in fighting all the crabs that came their way. At one point when it looked as thought Eight was about to start climbing one of the legs Louis scooped the monkey up his hat and kept running with the furry stowaway tucked beneath his right arm, the baby cradled in his left.

Finally, the crevice was only a few yards away. Marlon dove for it headfirst, narrowly avoiding being nabbed once more by his captor’s claw. Letting out a frantic swear, Louis slid underneath the crab as it blocked the passageway, kicking up sand and seaweed as he scrambled after his friend. Moments later, all five members of the castaway crew emerged safely onto the other side of the beach, a beach that was still as bare as they had first found it.

“Thank fuck!” Louis gasped, taking a moment to catch his breath before removing Juliet from the folds of his coat and working to comfort her. Marlon knelt down, examining Rosie and Eight to make sure they hadn’t received any serious injuries. Once it was clear that everyone was alright, they continued to move forward, heading for their abandoned boat.

“We’re almost home,” Marlon said with a smile as he brushed the sand out of his hair.

“Yep! Almost back and no worse for the wear! Isn’t that right, Juliet?” Louis cooed at the baby in his arms who seemed entranced by the way his dreads swayed as he walked.

“Now all that’s left is to find the boat and… shit,” Marlon froze in his tracks. A second later he was running forward. “Shit shit shit!”

Louis soon saw what the issue was. The first Gurlinder crab they’d run into hadn’t left this beach after all. Instead it had made its way over to their rowboat and was now poking at it with interest. If they lost that boat, they were trapped. Louis sprinted afterwards, humming a shanty under his breath in an effort to keep Juliet calm. “There once was a ship that put to sea, the name of the ship was the Billy of Tea…”

They were still a great distance from the boat. The giant crab snapped at the edges of the boat with interest, drawing it out of the sand and up into its claws.

“Hey asshat, that’s not yours!” Marlon shouted angrily, his ponytail blowing in the wind as he ran. Louis tucked Juliet back into his coat, shielding her ears from the language. As they reached the crab, they all ran to the opposite side of the rowboat and grabbed onto the end of it. They wouldn’t be able to defeat the crab. They’d have to wrestle the boat from her grasp and get out to the sea before she could give chase. Marlon pulled with all his might, Louis using his spare arm to try to aid in the struggle.

The crab was unimpressed by their show of force. It glanced down at them with annoyance before lifting the boat higher. Both men gasped as they were lifted off of their feet. Rosie was barking like mad below them, trying again and again to bite through the crab’s outer armor and save her fellow pirates, but it was no use. Eight meanwhile had got ahold of one of the ropes dangling from the rowboat and climbed inside the boat to scold the crab face to face.

“You fucker! Give us back our boat!” Marlon growled. Drawing out his pistol, he fired a shot straight at the crab. The bullet bounced off like it was nothing.

“The eyes! Aim for the eyes!” Louis cried, his focus entirely on not dropping Juliet while they were shaked to and fro.

Dropping back to the ground, Marlon pulled a new bullet from his pouch and began reloading his gun. He couldn’t afford to miss again. Aiming the newly reloaded flintlock, he closed one eye, hoping his aim would be true.

A second before he fired though, the Gurlinder crab suddenly changed its mind. Opening its claws, it suddenly dropped the rowboat to the ground. Louis fell hard to the ground, his legs crumbling beneath him as he fell on his back in an effort to protect Juliet. Immediately he struggled to his feet though, letting out a pained moan as he and Marlon both leapt into the boat and pushed it down to the water. Rosie was right beside them, leaping into the boat beside Eight who shook his fists threateningly at the retreating crab.

“Are you hurt? Is Juliet okay?” Marlon asked as he got the oars sorted and began paddling out to sea.

“She’s alright, just shaken is all,” Louis rocked her back and forth, trying to quiet her cries. “Do you need me to row? I could try setting Juliet beside me or-”

“I’ll manage! You focus on her!” Marlon put all of his strength into rowing the boat out to the open sea.

Louis glanced behind them. “Why do you think it gave up? It was totally whopping our asses back there,”

“Beats me. Good riddance,”

“It just keeps heading toward the forest. Maybe it went to look for its baby? Wait…” Louis gasped. “There’s another crab!”

Sure enough, another crab had emerged from the forest and joined the first in a courtship dance. It looked as though the pirates’ enemy wasn’t the only crab to get lost on its way to the mating grounds.

“Awww, they’re sort of cute together!” Louis smiled at the joint dance.

“From a distance maybe. We’re never going back there again,” Marlon grumbled, putting extra force into his strokes.

“I mean, at the end of the day I guess the crabs were just trying to live their lives. Look at them, it’s like they’re kissing! Oh, wait, now they’re-” Louis flushed, quickly looking away and shielding Juliet’s eyes. “Yep, definitely not a place to visit again,”

“I can go for a bit longer then I’ll need a break. You willing to give me a turn holding the baby?”

“Of course! Uncle Marlon’s gonna take a turn holding you, ok, Juliet?” Louis smiled down at the baby who looked quite tired from all of the recent excitement. “You just rest. We’ll be home soon,”

---

“…And that’s the story of how we found Juliet!” Louis finished with a grin.

The rest of the Ericson Pirates who had all gathered round to hear the tale all began talking at once. The noise woke Juliet who started crying again, her wail broken and frail. Immediately Clementine stepped forward, gently taking her from Louis and rocking her in her arms. “She needs another diaper change, one with a real diaper this time. Also she must be starving. Ruby, are the supplies still in the crate under your hammock?”

“That’s right,” Ruby responded, stepping forward and taking Lee Kenny’s hand. “Y’all go ahead, we have things covered up here,”

While the others took care of things above deck, Clementine and Louis headed below deck to the sleeping quarters. Clementine sat down in the nearest hammock, directing Louis to grab a fresh diaper and some powdered milk from Ruby’s trunk. Once Louis returned with the needed supplies, the two worked together to change Juliet, laying her in Clementine’s lap while Louis kept her head stable and tried to keep her arms and legs out of the soupy mess that was her makeshift sail diaper.

“There was so family round there at all?” Clementine asked, her eyes focus on her work.

Louis shook his head. “None at all. It looked to have been abandoned for a few days. I’m surprised the boat made it to shore or even stayed there at all. Another day and it may have washed back out to sea,”

“She’s so skinny,” The concern in Clementine’s voice was clear. Working quickly, she hummed a little tune to the baby as she changed her, the same shanty Louis had sung back on the island. Soon the baby was changed and the impromptu messy diaper set aside. Clementine readjusted her grip on Juliet, nestling her in her arms. “The last bottle broke awhile back. Do you have your flask with you?”

“Well, it’s-”

“I know it’s water, Lou. I swiped it a while back to get a drink. Not surprised, just disappointed there wasn’t anything stronger around,”

Louis grinned knowingly up at his wife. “I’ll treat you to whatever your heart desires at the next tavern we visit,”

“I’m holding you to that. Now pour a bit of the powder into the flask and shake it up,”

Louis followed Clementine’s directions, turning the remaining water into a frothy white liquid. Clementine took the flask and raised it to the baby’s lips. This time Juliet drank more eagerly, gulping down the milk substitute noisily.

“We’ll need to stop in the nearest port town and get some more powdered milk and supplies. We weren’t expecting a baby again anytime soon,”

Louis listened for anger or annoyance in his wife’s words but there wasn’t any; she was only stating facts. Looking up at her, he could see the same fondness in her eyes as she looked down at Juliet that he had felt when he first held her.

Clementine caught him looking and a soft smile crossed her lips. “She’s beautiful,”

“She certainly is. The best bounty we’ve ever come across,”

The room was quiet now, the only sounds being the soft creaking of the ship and Juliet as she eagerly suckled the flask. Louis and Clementine watched her in silence, lost in the simple beauty of the moment. They both knew what was yet unspoken. They had found another daughter to call their own.

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg marlon #twdg sophie #twdg prisha #twdg violet #twdg maisy #twdg lee kenny #twdg juliet #twdg rosie #twdg eight #louis marlon brotp #clouis #twdg marlie #twdg privet

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heysimhey · 4 years

Text

Play The Sims 2 in The Sims 4!

I've been simming since 2000 beginning with The Sims 1. Of all the versions of the game, The Sims 2 version has always been my favorite mainly due to the character stories. Even when The Sims 3 came out, I still was tied to the characters and stories of version 2 and it never quite felt right. Then The Sims 4 came out and I was excited to see the Goths, but the story line was "wrong". My beloved characters were missing. I played for a few years and then went back to 2. I loved the stories of 2, but the game play and graphics of 4. What's a girl to do?

Create the Sims 2 character and stories in the Sims 4? Yeah, that actually works for me....and was a lot of work as well.

I didn't bring over the characters from every world in TS2. The reason being, I never really cared for any of the other characters from the neighborhoods like Belladonna Cove, Riverblossom Hills or Desiderata Valley. In fact, I can honestly say, I never even bothered playing Desiderata Valley. I had enough drama with the main three (Pleasantview, Strangetown and Veronaville....and Bluewater Village).

But wasn't it crazy that with every neighborhood, you got a separate and exactly the same Bluewater Village from scratch? So a different Malcom Landgraab everytime. The Malcom Landgraab from Strangetown didn't know the Pleasantview folks and vice versa. I always found that wacky, so I picked the ML from Pleasantview to play with and abandoned the other dopplegangers.

And why couldn't the Goths know the Smiths? Why couldn't the Pleasants have a barbecue with the Monty's? Why couldn't sims from one neighborhood have friendships/rivalries and romances with sims from another neighborhood? Well, now they can! Pleasantview, Strangetown (Strangerville), Veronaville and Bluewater Village are all open and connected in The Sims 4! I even threw in some goodies like the Newbies and Mashugas from The Sims 1 and that mean ole Mrs. Crumplebottom!

I tried my best to find original renditions of their homes from TS2. As you know, aspirations have changed a little bit, but I tried my darndest to stay true to their aspirations from TS2 with the help of other personality traits along the side. I have already played the neighborhoods to the point of where TS2 begins, with the proper relationships established, ghosts deceased (check out Olive Specter's lil' grim garden *shudder*) and everyone in their proper lots.

Original sims who came with TS4 are still around somewhere in the neighborhood bin. I evicted most of them to make room for my characters. Below are details for each neighborhood that I put together.

Huge shout-out to Midnite Tech for creating the package file that allows us to edit our World names.

The packs I have installed currently are: Get to Work, Get Together, City Living, Get Famous, Discover University, Strangerville, Dine Out, Movie Hangout Stuff, Vintage Glamour Stuff, Tiny Living Stuff and Holiday Celebration.

I wish I could say this is Base Game compatible, but unfortunately, you will need these packs in order to have the full experience. I will be purchasing the other packs as I choose in the future, but for right now, I'm good.

About Pleasantview (Willow Creek)

The Goths, Pleasants, Calientes, Dreamers and Brokes are here and are cued as best as possible to their TS2 initial situations. I also included Bob and Betty Newbie from TS1, whom we later found out were Brandi's parents. Their relationship is also reflected in this file. The notorious maid, Kaylynn Langerak is also residing in Pleasantview and is bound to cause some ruckus.

About Strangerville (Strangetown)

The Smiths, Grunts, Curiouses, Beakers and Specters are in full play with the appropriate ghosts haunting Olive's lot. Bella was definitely abducted by aliens (although we can't view all of their memories anymore) and dropped in Strangeville just the same as Strangetown's TS2. She has a story of her own. Thankfully, you can easily decide to reunite her with her family, or let her start a new life. Caution, the neighborhoods are connected, so she is bound to run into one of her relatives.

*For WHATEVER reason, the file would NOT let me change the name of Strangerville to Strangetown. It may have something to do with the whole Strangerville story line. But I have seen others edit this. Ah well.*

About Veronaville (Windenburg)

The Capp, Monty and Summerdream families are here with the Monty/Capp feud still going strong. Romeo and Juliette are still in love. Awwwww. I almost never played this neighborhood, but it just wouldn't feel right if I didn't include them.

About Bluewater Village (Newcrest)

The Landgraab, Tinker, Ramirez, Jacquet and Delarosa characters came on over with their aspirations. J'Adore Bakery is owned by the Jacquets, but I didn't create the other businesses.

About Downtown (San Myshuno)

This is where you will find the notorious Mrs. Crumplebottom. She is content in her little house right smack dab where it is and you better stay off her lawn. I heard Malcom Landgraab III offered her a ton of money to move so he could build a new skyrise. She refused to sell and clobbered him with her purse. So he built around her. Malcom Landgraab IV is terrified of her due to the fact that he remembers the huge knot his father had to nurse all those years ago, so he continues his father's legacy of building around her. She ain't budging.

About Twikkii Springs (Oasis Springs)(Twikkii Island)

I named this Twikkii Springs instead of Twikkii Island because Oasis Springs isn't really an island, so it didn't make much sense. So I modified it to be Twikkii Springs. I used Zerbu's World Type Changes mod to make Oasis Springs a destination world. The Mashuga's currently run things here in their token pink octogon house. At least, in my head they do. You can play this however you want. You can get the mod here or don't use the mod and play it as is.

Honorable Mentions

Del Sol Valley

I left these named the same as we didn't really have a fame expansion for TS2. I was tempted to name it Studio Town like in TS1, but that just sounded too "Toon-Town"ish, so nah, pass. I like Del Sol Valley.

Magnolia Promenade

I totally tried to rename this to Uptown Bluewater, but the game said nope. So Magnolia Promenade it is. Maybe one day the powers that bEA will be nice and allow us to freely rename our worlds....or is that wishful thinking?

*************

Majority of the lots that you see here in these worlds, I downloaded from the gallery. I won't feel bad at all if you wanna change things up.

The custom maps that I used for my worlds, you will have to install them separately in order for your neighborhoods to look like my pictures above. You can get the maps here.

*************

DID I MISS SOMETHING?? I tried my best to make this as close to the original TS2 version as possible, but the human in me probably forgot a detail or two. Let me know!

{HOW TO INSTALL}

1. Download my save file here. (SFS not working? Get it here instead.)

2. Then copy the file from your downloads folder into this path: my documents/electronic arts/the sims 4/saves | NOT your mods, tray folder or any other folder.

3. When you open the game, you should see the file The Sims 2 Reprise. :)

{TERMS OF USE}

Feel free to use this save file and have fun with your sims. If you make a video, please let me know. I totally would love to see how others play with this world. I would appreciate a shout out too!

I'm @HeySimHey on Twitter and Instagram and HeySimHey on Youtube. I'll be glad to hear from you!

#ts4 #ts4download #ts4 download #ts4 save file #the sims 4 #the sims 2 #ts2 #ts4worlds #ts2worlds #goths #donlothario #thesims4 #thesims #thesims2

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redcameleon · 4 years

Text

Superstar Series

Chapter 13: Reunion

Summary: The group finally kicks off their tour, and Sakura and Sasuke’s interactions have never been this awkward.

Rating: K.

It is only a few weeks before they kick off their first tour date. Stress levels are building up higher than before. Despite his intention, Sasuke can’t stop thinking back to his little encounter with Sakura the other day. He can still vividly remember her face, the words she said to him.

Shikamaru has just finished a meeting with the creative board and the head stylists as they all exit the conference room. Sasuke just happens to pass by when he notices Ino, Hinata, and Karin murmuring among themselves as they exit.

“Do you think Sakura will agree?” Sasuke’s eyes perk up at the mention of her name.

“I don’t know but she has to.. At this point we could use all the help we can get!” What is this? What is Sakura supposed to agree to? Shikamaru notices how Sasuke stops in his footsteps and moves to greet him.

“Sasuke.” Shikamaru motions him to enter the room. Sasuke gives him a nod before entering and closing the door behind him.

“I want to let you know first. You know how swamped we are right now, right?” He nods. Sasuke notices the bags underneath his eyes that mirror his own. He can’t possibly miss the mess that has been going on around the office. Understaffed is just one word to describe it. To be fair, they never expected their company to skyrocket in the past year alone. Being from a small company, there is only so many you can hire. But now that their scale is getting bigger, that means their performance venues are getting bigger, and they will eventually need to hire more help.

“We’ve decided to rehire Sakura for this tour.” Sasuke’s eyes widen in surprise. Not because of how outrageous the idea sounds, but because of all people, he never would have thought Shikamaru to be the one to propose the idea. After all, based on their last interaction at the office, Shikamaru’s words had pretty much influenced Sakura’s decision to quit. But now here he is, trying to get her back to the company. Honestly, Sasuke is delighted at the news. If Sasuke alone could not convince her to come back, maybe a more formal invitation will.

Sakura sits on the chair across from Shikamaru. The background jazz music fills the space, tuning out the indistinct conversations around them. Sakura fiddles with her straw as she shifts her gaze between the beverage in front of her and the folder lying on the table.

“Please give it another thought. We really need the help. You’re one of the most senior staff members, and we simply don’t have enough time to recruit a lot of new people.” Sakura takes a sip of her drink.

“When do I have to decide?” Shikamaru leans back in his chair.

“I’ll give you two days. Should be more than enough.” Sakura gives it one last glance before sighing and grabbing the folder.

“I’ll contact you with my decision.”

Sakura tucks the folder in her tote bag, bows to Shikamaru and exits the café. She walks back to her apartment, mind heavy with thoughts. To some this might be a straightforward answer, but to her, this concerns too many things that she can’t carelessly decide on the spot. Heck this will only make her resignation look like a joke. The reason she resigned in the first place was to draw the line between her and Sasuke’s relationship. Coming back to work for them, to work for him, would mean that all of that effort to stay away from Sasuke will be in vain. It is a different story if they both no longer have feelings for each other. But just from their little encounter at the park the other day, they both know that is far from the reality that they both still care about each other. Perhaps too much to maintain a professional relationship. If she were to come back, there is no guarantee that they can keep their relationship under wraps. The risk of being exposed and ruining each other’s lives are still up on the table.

Sakura comes to a stop at the red light.

But then, she can’t be so selfish as to turn her back on them. Like what Shikamaru said, they need the help. And being one of the senior staff members for their group, it’ll take years for someone to be able to replace her, and they both know time is not a luxury they have right now. She cannot stop thinking about her coworkers, Ino, Hinata, and Karin, how they were the ones who must have stepped in her place to fill her void. She cannot imagine the amount of stress that must have given them. She secretly feels guilty for her decision that a tiny part of her is starting to regret it.

Meeting Sasuke the other day was not just a coincidence. It was destiny. She had to see him one last time to be sure. One thing she is sure of is that her feelings for Sasuke will not go away. Not then, not now. No matter how hard she tries to not think about him, her heart cannot lie. She will always love him. Now she has been given the perfect opportunity, or excuse?, to come back. They need her. How can she turn her back on them?

She takes out her phone and dials Shikamaru.

“Hello?”

“Shikamaru-san.”

“Hn. That was faster than I thought.” Sakura smiles.

“Yes. I’ve given it some thought, and-“

Ino sits in her cubicle, chin in her hand as she browses through some pictures and concept ideas. She scribbles down some notes, making a relatively long to do list for her and her make up team. Letting out a tired sigh, she runs her hand over her face, deciding to get up to the vending machine and fetch a nice cold brew. Nothing like a good ol’ cup of coffee to wake her up.

Just as she gets up from her chair, she notices a figure standing a few feet away. She focuses her gaze and immediate recognizes her old coworker, and friend.

“Sakura!”

“Hi there.” Sakura giggles, spreading her arms.

“You-“ Ino runs up towards her, embracing her in a tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here forehead! It’s been so long!”

“Sorry it took me so long.” Ino pulls back to look at her.

“So, does that mean you’re working here again?” Sakura gives a reassuring nod, and Ino has a sudden urge to hug her again.

“Yes! Oh my god I have so many things to tell you!” Ino swings her arm around her friend’s shoulder.

“Me too. I guess I haven’t been entirely open about myself.” Ino is no idiot. Even though Sakura hasn’t told her about Sasuke, she was able to figure things out rather quickly. She just does not know all the details.

“How about you buy me some coffee and we can catch up?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Huffs and puffs of air fill the room as the music comes to an end. The four men immediate plop to the ground in exhaustion.

“Hey, we did great! Don’t you guys think so? We’ve never been more in sync.” Naruto comments, pride evident in his voice.

“Well yeah, we’ve been busting our butts for months, we better be good!” Kiba comments, making Naruto chuckle.

“Looks like I caught you all in the right time.” A female voice enters the room, prompting them all to sit and turn their heads to the source. Their eyes widen when they see a certain someone peeking through the door with a bag of snacks.

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto gets up, as if all his strength has been replenished and pulls her into an embrace. “You’re back!”

Kiba and Suigetsu join him, giving her side hugs.

“We’ve missed you lots!”

“You mean my snacks?” Sakura eyes Kiba.

“Nonsense! Of course we miss you.” Sasuke stands in the middle of the room, observing their interaction. His heart is beating at two hundred beats per minute, unsure if it is from their dance practice or from her.

Sakura hands the delicacies to the members, happy at how quick they dismantle the packaging and devour their contents. Sasuke slowly walks towards her, eyes never leaving her form as he takes in the sight in front of him. She is here. She is finally back. Is it for good? That is the only question that remains.

Sakura gives him a warm smile as he approaches her, keeping himself at an arm’s length.

“Hey.”

“You’re back.”

“Hm yeah.. Shikamaru did a pretty good job convincing me.” He needs to remember to repay him somehow.

“So you’re staying right?”

“For now.” That’s a good enough answer for him. For once, he can finally be around her again.

“Hey Sasuke, if you’re not having any we’re gonna finish all of this.” Suigetsu chimes in. Sasuke gives her one last smile before heading towards the members.

“Leave some for me, will ya.” He ruffles Suigetsu’s hair before he sticks his hand in the bag, ruffling around a bit and taking out an onigiri.

Compared to their other practices, nothing can top off today’s.

The following days seem more vivid for Sasuke compared to other days. He does not know why but his mood has been greatly lifted, although his members seem to know what caused it, or who. The way his face would light up, the way he walks into the room with his shoulders broad, and his confidence apparent, only a blind man cannot see the effect Sakura’s return has caused him.

Trying to get back into her groove again, Ino informs Sakura on the latest changes. Reading meeting notes after notes, and going over sketches after sketches, Sakura is determined to get back to her professional self again. She is not going to let herself fall behind just because she was absent for a few months.

Occasionally bumping into Sasuke in the office, they only manage to spare a brief hello, how’s it going, and see you later. Still seemingly flustered around each other, they try to avoid any unnecessary physical touch. Of course, it is nearly impossible when Sakura is in charge of dressing up Sasuke.

Both crave for more, yet a tiny voice keeps holding them back. The pent up frustration somehow lingers in the air. All he wants is to just grab her cheeks and pull her into a kiss. All she wants is to run her hands all over him, to finally let herself love him fully. All they want is to just be in each other’s arms, to fully let themselves love. Knowing better that that will not do them any good, especially in the media’s eyes, they bury their urges deep down.

Days quickly turn to weeks, and before they know it, they are leaving for their tour tomorrow. They have one last meeting before they end the day early, giving everyone a good night’s rest to prepare for their departure.

One by one, the rest of the staff leave the building. Sakura is cleaning up her desk when Naruto walks up to her cubicle, leaning over the partition.

“It’s nice to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“You know, Sasuke seems to be in a much better mood lately.”

“Oh yeah? That’s good to hear.” She does notice how much he’s been smiling lately. Just his overall aura seems more.. cheerful. And her eyes would linger at him for too long, admiring how much happiness suits on him.

“You know it’s probably because of you, right?”

“I’m sure he’s just excited because the tour is nearing.”

“You know that’s not all.”

“I know.” She pauses. “But I’m not here to get back together with him. At least.. Not now.” She can’t seem to stop speaking when it comes to Naruto. He has that effect on people; he just makes people so comfortable.

“But you do want to get back with him?” Naruto eyes her, looking for some sort of confirmation.

“Well.. someday I guess? I don’t know Naruto. You guys don’t get the luxury of dating like normal people once you become famous. And I don’t want to be a burden for Sasuke, or cause his fame to plummet.” All of Sakura’s words have truth in them. All except for one thing.

“Believe me, you’ve never been a burden to him.” Sakura looks up to him, and sees fire burning in his gaze. She seems to wonder how Naruto can be so sure about that.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” Sakura cannot deny the butterflies that are beginning to fly in her stomach.

The beginning is always the hardest part. Being that this is their first tour, things are bound to go wrong, and they just have to roll past it.

Running frantically across the room, Sakura grabs some tissue to dab Sasuke’s sweat away. The members have just finished their first set and are off to change for the second set. With just a ten minute intervention in between, they are being chased by the clock. She quickly gets Sasuke off his navy blue shirt and into another shirt with beaded accents on the collar and cuffs. Sasuke buttons it up while she dabs some more powder on him, fixing his make up.

“Great, all set!” After muttering a quick “Thanks.”, Sasuke speed walks out of the room and into the stage elevator.

They are all running on autopilot as they let their bodies go through each song just like how they practiced. With a few bumping ins into people, and a few shoutings here in there backstage, they somehow manage to finish their first day cleanly.

The fans’ loud cheering can be heard from outside the venue, and nothing feels more refreshing than knowing how months of preparation, rehearsals, and meetings are starting to pay off.

Days go by as they move from one city to the other, and one country to the other, meeting fans from all over the world. Their energy never dwindles as they keep getting more strength from their fans.

But of course, just as they think the tour is going fine, a disaster happens. Suigetsu limps off the stage, arms swung around his bodyguard and leaning his body on him. During one of their final songs, he seems to have lost his footing and twisted his ankle. Withstanding through the pain and still managing to end the concert beautifully, all the adrenaline finally runs out as he feels a pulsating pain from his ankle.

They quickly summon the doctor to take a look at him. Suigetsu lies on the floor, panting as sweat streams down his face and neck. He winces when the doctor tries to lift his foot. The doctor wraps some ice packs around his ankle, and rests it on a pillow.

“I’m afraid you twisted your ankle. You need to take it easy for the remaining tour. And that means, no dancing. In fact, I don’t think you should perform at all.”

“What?!” Suigetsu abruptly props himself up by his elbows. There is no way he is going to miss out on a performance, not when they are at their final leg of the tour. “There’s no way I’m gonna miss out on a performance!”

“Suigetsu, don’t be ridiculous. You won’t be able to perform at all if you insist on dancing during the rest of the tour.” Shikamaru places his hand on his shoulder, trying to reason with him. Suigetsu looks over to the side, clearly frustrated with the whole situation.

Luckily, they are able to come up with a solution for him to still be on stage, as long as he does not dance. During their performance the following day, they let him sit on a stool in the middle of the stage while the rest of the members dance in front of him. His condition clearly bothers him. Nevertheless, he tries to put on a smile and sings through his parts. The members would sometimes dance around him, making him laugh. All the fans still give their all, cheering throughout the entire show, screaming his and their names.

The drive back to the hotel is quiet. The four members lean back on their car seat, looking over the window. Their minds keep replaying their performance, each taking mental notes of individual things for them to improve. They talk over some parts of their performance where Kiba’s tempo was slightly off beat, where Sasuke kept brushing over Suigetsu, where there was a part where Naruto sang off key.

Letting out a sigh, the members’ mood seems to be defeated as the car ride grows silent.

“But hey we did great too! I mean the fans loved us!” Naruto tries to cheer everyone up. Despite it being their first tour, they have to admit that they’ve been doing great so far, and Naruto is trying to make sure they all know that.

“Come on, we just have to practice harder and do a better job for the rest of the tour.”

“Easy for you to say, I can’t even dance with you guys!” Suigetsu flails his arms around in frustration. The members do not say a word as they all understand the pain of not being able to perform when it is their whole life! Suigetsu is just glad it is only temporary.

“Hey, you’ll still be with us on stage! You just have to focus on getting yourself healed. The faster you heal, the faster you can perform again.” Kiba gives him a reassuring smile, and slowly, Suigetsu’s mood is beginning to be lifted.

“Yeah you’re right. Thanks guys.” If it were not for each other, who knows how quick they would give up.

As they arrive at their hotel, the only thing on their mind is a nice hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Sasuke shuts the door to Suigetsu’s hotel room and begins to head over to his own room when he notices Sakura walking towards him. He can only assume she is walking over to her room, which he believes to be the one next to Suigetsu’s.

“Hi!” Sakura stops to greet him.

“Hey.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Aa. We ordered room service earlier.”

“Ah great!” Sakura fiddles with her thumb. She cannot believe how awkward she is with Sasuke. She just wishes she can start being herself around him again, whenever that will be.

“You were really great today!” Sakura glances over to him, a tint of blush painted over her cheeks.

“Thank you.” Sasuke looks at her, and he has to fight off a blush. He curses himself for not being able to say more, but he can only manage to say, “Thanks for helping us today.”

“Of course.” Sakura beams up. When did things go so awkward between them? He wants nothing more than to be around her comfortably. He thinks it must be from the stress. He supposes he can ask her to come over to his room. Some privacy might be better. That way, they can talk freely without being heard by anyone in the hallway. But is it the right thing to do? He still has not talked to her again about this, them. Would it confuse her even more? When he is lost in thought, Sakura speaks.

“I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Good night Sasuke-kun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Aa. Good night.” Sakura walks pass him and enters her room.

Tch. His heart aches for her, for her presence, for her love. Oh, how much he misses her.

She closes the door behind her and leans on the door, letting out a heavy sigh. Her heart aches every time she sees him. Oh, how much she misses him.

to be continued.

<--Chapter 12 Chapter 14-->

#ssff #ssfanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku #sasuke #sakura #fanfic #otp #redcameleon!writes #superstar!series

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

Finding out the truth about Freddie; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Here we go with the next chapter, now I hope you got your tissues ready cause I swear people, these next few chapters are gonna be heavy. Now in this one there is an insane amount of fluff first but then as the story goes on, YEESH! I’ll say this I HATED writing a portion of this chapter cause I was CRYING!!!

Also in the near future I may do a sorta HC type thing because there is one additional surprise that’s in this chapter (it’s nothing bad trust me) but I may just do that instead of making another fic of it. But I hope you all enjoy this part as much as you enjoyed the previous. And look out for the next and final update coming in just a few.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@kairosfreddie

@onebigfangirlworld

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

@bohemiansweede

@5sos-wdw

@labessieisallama

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

_______________________________________________________________

*December 15th, 1990*

It was like any other day in holiday home of Montreux. I was getting the place ready for the boys to stay while they got some work done. Brian wouldn’t tell me much but just the fact that the press were really hounding on Freddie lately. Now I have heard that there had been rumors that Freddie was sick but of what I had no idea.

The boys refused to tell me every time I asked. The last time I had seen Freddie and the guys in the public view was when they won the award for best band of the 1980’s.

And I’ll definitely say that something did look wrong with him, he was so thin and pale it was like I wasn’t even looking at the same person. But a walking corpse. I checked the clock really quick and said to myself.

“Okay Jack should be back with them any minute. Their flight was supposed to have come in a half hour ago. That is if there had been no delay. But there shouldn’t have been otherwise he’d call me. Okay bedrooms have been assigned, dinner’s just about done, and the twins are upstairs napping. Susan will drop Kelly back home after the playdate with Amy, okay I think that’s everything.”

Soon I heard two separate barks from upstairs on the balcony. I knew that it was Sammy our 3 year old golden retriever and Bucky our 6 year old German Shepherd, sounding the alarm that company had arrived. I smiled and raced towards the door and opened it to reveal the guys coming out of the cars.

I smiled widely and raced towards them not helping myself to an ecstatic squeal that came out of my mouth.

“Ahh her royal majesties have finally arrived!” As the first person I tackled in a hug was Brian. Seeing me coming at him, he immediately was ready as he picked me up and spun me around making me laugh as I said.

“Oh you guys look at you all!” He set me down as I brought Deacy in for the next hug. He pecked my cheek and embraced me back and as I hugged Roger and Fred at the same time I said, “Oh it’s been too long, I’ve missed my boys soo much. Oi,” I separated from them and gathered them together so that I could scold them like the mother I was, “Just because you four are now some hotshot band of the 80’s doesn’t mean you can forget about the people who most love you four. I worry about you guys I expect a call every now and then.”

“You know we check in on you love.” Said Roger. I grinned at him and said.

“Yeah I know but still. I don’t want you four to forget about little ol me.”

“Darling it’s impossible to forget about you.” Said Freddie.

“Hey you guys hungry? I’ve made cornbread and chilly.” I asked.

“Wait did I just hear cornbread and chilly?” Jack suddenly came into the group circle making us laugh and I said.

“Yes darling, it’s in the stove, should be done about now.” I took the guys inside the house and as they got a good view of the house from the inside Deacy said.

“Wow (y/n), your home is beautiful.”

“Thanks Deacy, the perfect vacation home for three kids. But oh lord the sleepovers that will happen in the future. It’ll fit an entire classroom.” I teased the last part.

“Speaking of which where are the little ankle biters at?” asked Roger.

“Well the twins are upstairs taking their afternoon nap, and Kelly is at a friend’s place. Should be back around 5-10 minutes or so.”

“How have they been doing?” asked Brian.

“Well the twins just had their 18month checkup about a month ago. Everything’s all healthy, Jack Jr. grew another 3inches. And Georgie gained 3 extra pounds.” Deacy whistled and said.

“Seems you’ve got a weed on your hands with Jack.”

“Tell me about it, by the time the boy’s in junior high, he’ll probably be as tall as an NBA player.” They looked at me confused and that’s when I stated, “Basketball player.” To which they nodded in understandment.

“And how’s the little nightingale?” asked Freddie.

“She’s been good. Really liking her kindergarten class, her teacher says she’s the smartest little girl she’s ever seen.”

“And we wouldn’t expect nothing less, she’s like her mother in every sense, shape and form.” Roger praised as he gave me a fatherly peck on the temple. I playfully shoved him and said.

“But I know she’ll be excited to see you all. She doesn’t even know you guys are coming.”

“My, my you are a sneaky mother lion aren’t yah dear?” teased Freddie.

“I do my best Fred. Okay so let me show you all to your rooms so you can set your stuff down and then we can have dinner.” I then led the boys up the stairs.

But as I reached the top I began to notice that Fred seemed to be struggling immensely.

I walked back down towards him and took his luggage and he looked at me and I smiled softly, hoping that I wasn’t crossing any boundaries.

“Thank you darling.” He said with a nod and I nodded back to him and tried to help him up the stairs but he refused telling me that he got it under control.

“Okay Freddie this room is yours,”

“Thank you darling.” He said as he set himself down on the bed and for the first time since arriving I saw him truly become relaxed. I set his stuff down at his bedside and said to him.

“I’ll let you know when dinner’s finally ready.” He thanked me once more and that’s when we all heard barking coming down the hall.

Bucky had entered Freddie’s room and trotted right up towards him.

“Hi Bucky!” Freddie said trying to sound enthusiastically but that’s when Bucky started to bark at him and not in the happy way. He almost sounded alarmed or defensive. I walked up towards him telling him as I ruffled his fur.

“What is wrong with you yah rotter? It’s just Freddie.”

“Oh I think my outfit just smells like Delilah that’s all.”

“I am so sorry Freddie he’s never acted this way before to anyone.” I apologized.

“No apologizes necessary darling.” He assured me. I knelt down to Bucky’s height and he sniffed under my chin whimpering and grunting as I scowled him.

“What’s the matter with you huh? It’s like you smelled something bad on him.” Bucky let out a couple more barks before a whistle was heard and Bucky went trotting over to Roger who began to pet him. “Again Fred I’m so sorry about this, hopefully Sammy will be nicer for the both of them. You just get yourself situated and I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

“No need to hover over me like a mama bear darling, I’ll be fine.” I just grinned at him and left his room and took the rest of band members of Queen to their rooms.

Deacy and Roger had rooms that were next door to each other’s while Brian’s room was just across from the master bedroom.

Once the guys got settled in, Jack had gotten the table set up and now everyone was gathered around the table ready to eat. I set the food down and I heard Roger say.

“Ahh about time, at least this will be better than airplane food.”

“Oh (y/n) this smells absolutely delicious.” Complimented Brian.

“Thank you boys, and please help yourselves to as much as you want.” We all then dug into our dinner.

“So how far did you say the studio was from here?” asked Freddie.

“It’s literally 20 minutes from here. Can’t miss it, it’s a beautiful building. I’m actually about to do some recording myself there tomorrow for my next album.”

“Mind telling us about it?” asked Roger.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no you cheeky devils. You’ll have to wait till it hits the shelves. I’m not spilling a single detail.”

“Ahh come on love, we tell each other everything in regard to work.” Said Brian.

“Nope, not gonna get anything outta me.” I said as I took a spoonful of chilly into my mouth. The front door soon opened and shut as we all heard a tiny little girl’s voice call out.

“Hi mummy!”

“There she is.” Proclaimed Deacy. Soon coming around the corner at 5 years old now with my (h/c) locks that went past her shoulders and (e/c) eyes that shined like little gems was my dear little Kelly.

“Uncle Deacy!” She raced over to Deacy who picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he said.

“How’s my favorite niece doing? Ohh you’re getting so big.”

“I see how it is Kelly, you go to Deacy but ignore the rest of us.” Freddie taunted.

“No Uncle Freddie, I never forget about you!” Kelly whined. Freddie grinned at her and said.

“I know you wouldn’t. Now come give your uncle Freddie a kiss my little nightingale.” Kelly got out of Deacy’s lap and went over to Freddie who picked her up and kissed both her cheeks. I noticed that Freddie was straining to pick her up, he tried to hide it but I could see it in his face as he picked her up.

“And what of my hug and kiss Kelly?” Brian asked. She giggled and Freddie passed her over to Brian. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed Brian’s cheek. I picked up Jack Jr. from his booster seat while Jack took Daniel. Brian gave Kelly her Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead which made her giggle.

“Where’s papa Roger?” she asked innocently. I turned to Roger who went to grab another beer can to see his goddaughter being held in Brian’s arms. I grinned at him as he said as he set his beer down.

“Why don’t you turn around and find out.” Kelly immediately turned around and raced towards Roger who got down to her height and picked her up under her arms holding her close to his chest which caused the whole room to erupt with soft laughs.

Just like me, Kelly’s always favored Roger out of the guys. Thankfully Roger took the role of godfather to a whole new level. Anytime I needed advice with Kelly, he was always there day or night. He adored Kelly with all his heart and like he did with me, he treated Kelly like his own child and gave her the entire world.

“You happy to see your uncles and your god papa sweetie?” asked Jack.

“I’m very happy.” Roger hugged her close to him and repeatedly kissed Kelly’s cheek making her giggle and squirm in his arms.

“And get this poppet, your uncles and godfather will be staying here with us for a while whilst they get some work done.” I told her. Her eyes lit up and she turned to Roger and asked him.

“Really?”

“That’s right love, hope you won’t get too sick of us like your mother does.” Roger teased.

“No I miss you guys!” She said as she hugged Roger’s neck and buried her face into it which made all of us laugh. Roger kissed her head and set back down in his seat while I got a bowl ready for Kelly. Once I set it down, she whined out, “Aww mummy, I don’t like chilly though!”

“Sorry darling but you’re gonna have to expand your eating habits. Just try a couple of bites.” I told her. She huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest pouting.

“Ahh come on now lovey, listen to your mummy and try at least a spoonful.” Said Roger as he gave her the puppy dog eyes but Kelly still refused.

“Okay then, I guess that means I’ll have to give the extra ice cream sandwiches to one of the guys then.” I started off. It was then Kelly perked up and said.

“Wait! Wait! I want an ice cream sandwich!” I smirked knowing that I had her right where I wanted her. I knelt down in front of her and said to her.

“Then you’ve got to eat your chilly.” She whined as she looked between her bowl and me. “It’s either that or not dessert monkey.” She then finally gave in and reached for her spoon and took a bite of the chilly. “That’s my girl.” I kissed the top of her head as Roger said.

“You’re so bad with her.”

“Well I did learn from the best,” I pecked his cheek and went to grab the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer.

The rest of the night was spent catching up with the guys and eating our dessert. Kelly was coloring in her coloring book while the boys were playing with their blocks at the center of the living room.

“So how have you two adjusted to dealing with 3 kids now?” asked Brian.

“It’s a struggle at times, but we’re happy to have our boys.” I said.

“Jack Jr. is an angel from heaven, Georgie however is a little devil in disguise. Jack Jr. clears his plate like a gentleman, Georgie on the other hand will just scatter his food down to the floor. Like the other day they were eating cheerios and he goes shoving the cheerios onto the ground, but what he does next is that he just looks at me like this,” Jack then made a ‘stare-down’ face as he said, “Like he’s saying, ‘I know you’re gonna pick that up’.” Which got the guys laughing.

“Trust me Jack, I went through the same thing with Robert when he was first born. But eventually he grew out of it, hopefully it’ll be the same with Georgie.” Said Deacy.

“Let’s hope so, I don’t think I can raise a mini-Jensen.” Jack groaned which made us laugh again.

As the night drew darker, Kelly who was now leaning against her godfather yawned and that’s when Roger said.

“Seems like someone had a long day today.” I stood up to take her upstairs but he stopped me and said, “It’s fine love, I’ll take her up. You take care of those boys of yours.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yeah it’ll be fine.” Roger then slowly picked Kelly up without trying to wake her up and took her up to her room.

God she looked so cute leaning up against Roger like that, reminds me of me at that age when my real father would take me up to bed after I had fallen asleep doing something.

“It is getting rather late. I think we should all be in bed by now, we want to get as early of a start recording as we can.” Stated Freddie.

“Agreed.” Brian spoke up. It was then decided that we all turned in for the night. Jack and I put the twins in their nursery jointed right next door to the master bedroom and I said goodnight to the three queens and they bid us a goodnight back. Jack and I unfolded the sheets and got into bed.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying in the studio for?”

“I’m hoping to plan just 9 hours, but I can’t make any promises. Plus with the guys here, they may need me. Hope that isn’t any trouble for you.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s been awhile since you’ve got to work with the boys, they might need you back with them.”

“Yeah they are lost without me.” We kissed each other and then snuggled up for the night.

*3rd Person POV*

While everyone was getting situated into bed, Roger finally arrived at Kelly’s room and walked over to her bed. He gently set her down and just before he could cover her up, she moaned and opened her eyes and said.

“Papa Roger?” Roger looked up at her and smiled and said.

“Hey you, I thought you’d gone to dreamland by now.”

“I couldn’t with you and uncle Deacy, uncle Brian and uncle Freddie here. I’m too excited to sleep now.”

“Oh really?” She nodded but then Roger took notice that she had the same sad look that she inherited from her mother. “What is it lovey?” he asked.

“I don’t think I can say it.” She responded solemnly as she looked down away from Roger. Roger looked at his goddaughter as said.

“Kelly, you know that if something’s bothering you, you know you can always tell me anything, right?” She nodded hesitantly and that’s when Roger lifted her chin up and said as he sat down at her bedside and extended his arm out, “C’mere darling.” Kelly crawled up onto Roger’s lap and gripped onto his shirt and fiddled with it.

Roger adjusted her so that she was fully sitting on his lap and wrapped his arms around her back keeping her steady as he allowed her head to rest against his chest over his heart, much like he did with her mother.

“Talking about it will help you feel better, so come on little lioness, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Kelly fiddled with Roger’s shirt a bit more before finally saying as she looked up at Roger with this (e/c) eyes that she got from her mother.

“Is uncle Freddie okay?”

At this point Roger didn’t even know what to tell her. He had hoped that Kelly wouldn’t notice the change in Freddie due to his AIDS but he knew he had been fooling himself.

She was after all the daughter of (Y/n) Kline, the cleverest girl he had ever met.

“I—didn’t want to say anything to mummy at dinner because I was afraid she’d get sad. I didn’t want her to be sad.” Roger stroked Kelly’s hair and said to her.

“You definitely have your mother’s cleverness thank god for that.” He first teased which made both him and even Kelly laugh. “Listen darling; your uncle Freddie he’s—he’s just trying out a new look. He hopes that it will help him look younger to fit in with the new ongoing crowd of fans. That’s all.”

“Well I don’t like it. He looks sick, can’t mummy help him feel better? I want the old uncle Freddie back.” Roger brushed some strands of her long hair out of her face and said.

“Maybe, if your mum will allow it.”

“She always helps me whenever I feel sick.” She said softly.

“She is a good nurse isn’t she?” Roger asked remembering all the times that she’s helped him and the guys whenever they partied too hard and were completely shitfaced by morning when they were forced to record. After teasing them, mainly him of course, she’d then have medicine, water and crackers to help settle their stomachs.

Kelly nodded but still looked sad. If there was one thing Roger knew when it came to his best girls, whether it was the Kline girls or even his own daughter, it was to never let them go to bed sad. With a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes and a cunning grin coming across his face, Roger proceeded to try and get Kelly to laugh. First he playfully pinched her nose as he said.

“I’ve got you nose.” Which made Kelly giggle as she tried to escape her godfather’s embrace. As she now fell back onto her bed, it allowed Roger to grab her ankle and lift her foot in the air as he said, “Got your toes!”

“Papa Roger, stop! I’m too big for nose and toes!” She laughed. This was a playful game that Roger not only played with his own daughter but with Kelly as well to get them to be happy again.

“Uh-oh, you’re missing a toe. Alright you little ankle bitter, where’s that missing toe?”

“I’m not missing a toe.” Kelly cried out.

“Oh yes you are, see. One, two, three, four.” He said counting her toes skipping over her middle toe. “Now where you keeping that toe at young lady?”

“I don’t have it anywhere.”

“Ah-ah better tell the truth, or I’m gonna tickle it out of yah.” He then dived down and began tickling Kelly’s stomach. The two of them laughing as Roger kept Kelly close to him as he tickled her, not allowing her to escape an inch away from him. Kelly tried as best as she could to roll away from him but Roger always brought her back close to him, she tried to push his hand away but it wouldn’t budge.

When she was nothing but pure smiles and no more trace of sadness was in her eyes, Roger ceased his tickle attack and scooted her up so that her head was now resting on her pillow.

“Okay lovey, time for bed.” He tucked her in and stroked the top of her head, brushing away the bangs that fell down over her eyes. “Now don’t you worry about your uncle Freddie okay? He always bounces back up, and I know he will from this.” Roger lied.

He hated to lie to Kelly but he had no choice. She was too young to understand and he didn’t want this to affect her badly by telling her that her uncle was going to die soon.

He refused to allow Kelly to be told that right away, especially if it was from him and not from her own parents.

Plus he knew Freddie would never forgive him had his favorite niece been told he was so sick.

“Okay.” Kelly said softly.

“That’s my girl.” Roger kissed her forehead and whispered, “Goodnight my love.”

“G’night.” Kelly whispered before finally closing her eyes and went back to sleep. Roger stayed by her bedside for a few moments stroking her head gingerly before finally decided to head to his own room and went to sleep himself.

As he lay down on his bed, a single tear fell down his face.

*My POV*

As the next year came around; the boys continued to stay at the house, balancing work and spending time with their niece and nephews. I’ve really began to notice the signs of Freddie not doing so well.

Some nights he would lose his appetite and not want anything to eat. There was also the signs of him struggling to get out of bed in the mornings and even walk up and down the stairs. One day there was even an accident where he fell and broke his ankle. Also both Sammy and Bucky would just bark at Freddie anytime he would pass them, they even went as much as to avoid him at all times which they had never done before since we had gotten them.

I was really starting to get scared for Freddie’s sake because Kelly was starting to ask questions. She told me that she and Rog had a talk about it but he told her not to worry about it. So I would go up to either Brian or Rog since anytime Freddie was brought up, Deacy wouldn’t even speak and the two of them would tell me not to worry and that Fred was just trying something out, or he went to the gym after their rehearsals.

I was currently sitting on one of my chairs by the back entrance going over a new song for my upcoming album. Doing some rewrites and trying to make the song work better when I heard Freddie’s voice coming down the hallway.

I put my feet up and lowered myself further down the chair hiding myself from view as I heard Freddie say.

“Just tell the press to bugger off and not say a word that I am here with (Y/n) and Jack. I refuse to let the Klines get involve with this Jim darling. If they ask, just tell them I’m in Japan recording…..I know, I miss you too my husband. I’ll call you later tonight, bye-bye my love.” I then heard Fred sigh heavily and heard him enter the living room as he said to himself. “God this is fucking ridiculous. Now they’ve got to pull my beloved Rock Angel into this, she doesn’t deserve this torture either.”

Finally I had had enough, I poked out from behind the chair which caused Freddie to jump backward as I said to him.

“Care to confess your sins there, Mr. Mercury?”

“Bloody hell (Y/n) don’t scare me like that.” He said as he rubbed his chest. I set my notebook down and stood before him saying.

“Well that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You Fred. If anyone’s scaring anybody here is you that’s scaring me. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about?” He remained silent and just stared at me with wide eyes. I raised my brow at him and proceeded to say as I circled around him, “Like; why Bucky and Sammy won’t come near you without barking up a storm? Or why your appetites changed? Not to mention this weight loss, the fact that you can barely walk some days without help, not to mention the phone conversation I just heard about me getting involved with something you don’t want me a part of. Fred I’m really worried about you.”

I now stood face to face with him by the end of my rant and that’s when Freddie told me.

“(Y/n) I—I’m just going through some personal things that’s all my dear.” I looked at him suspiciously and said.

“Okay,” I sighed heavily as I dragged my hands through my hair as I said, “God if I didn’t know any better I’d say it’s almost as if you—” I stopped as I looked at him. I then shook my head and said, “No. No way. I’m going straight to the worst case scenario.” I turned around and walked away.

“What scenario would that be darling?” Freddie asked me. I turned back around toward him and said to him trying to play it off.

“Nothing, nothing Fred forget I even said anything.” As I turned back around to walk away it was then Freddie dropped the bombshell.

“Because only a clever girl like you could decipher….when one has AIDS.”

I froze in my spot.

I slowly turned around and looked at Freddie. I have heard about the AIDS crisis that had been breaking out worldwide. It was unlike anything I had ever heard of, and it was strongly affected the gay community. Already Jack had lost some old friends from this disease but never did I—oh my god.

I slowly walked towards Fred finally putting two and two together as I choked out his name. He looked at me with solemn eyes and said the four most gravest and heartbreaking words I will ever hear in my entire life.

“I’m afraid so darling.”

My eyes grew wide, my heart sunk and I almost collapsed to the ground in tears. I held my hands to my mouth trying to hide my shocked expression but tears quickly filled my eyes.

“Oi Fred!” Roger’s voice called out. He came up from the back entrance and stood beside Freddie and said to him, “Fred, Brian and Deacy managed to figure out the problem for the song, we want to run it by you.” It was then Roger turned to look at me. I sniffled and couldn’t help as a tear fell down my face. “(Y/n) what’s wrong?”

Even in his weak and frail state, Freddie still had that strength in his eyes that told me to not cry and be strong. I snapped out of my state and choked out as I tried to do what Freddie was telling me to do.

“Wha? No, nothing’s wrong dad. I’m only just picturing Freddie the way he’d want me to right now. The day I first met him…..Me sitting at the piano and him trying to get me to sing another song…..” I couldn’t help a sob that came out as I choked out again as I held my arms out, “Can I please hug him?”

I walked up towards Fred and gave him a hug as I wept hysterically. Crying into his shoulder while he rocked me back and forth rubbing my back trying to comfort me as I wept.

“Oh god no! Not you…..” I felt him kiss my temple and that’s when I felt his embrace and backed away as I choked out. “Okay I’m going to go calm down, then tonight. You and me. Garden. Because we need to have a serious talk about this okay? Okay?” I wiped my tears away before rushing out of the living room and upstairs to my bedroom.

*3rd Person POV*

Roger who was completely baffled by what he just saw turned to Freddie who turned to him solemnly and he confessed.

“I told her.” Roger sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“How did she find out?”

“She’s clever that lion cub of yours. She put two and two together without even having to say it. Plus she was hiding when I was on the phone with Jim. Already the press back home are spilling rumors that our beloved Rock Angel is aware of my AIDS and is keeping me in hiding.”

“Those fucking wankers.” Roger sneered. He then looked toward the direction where (y/n) had gone and tried to go after her but Freddie stopped him and said.

“Leave her be Rog. Give her time to calm down, and like she said I will talk with her. This has to be between me and her.” Roger nodded and the two men went back to work.

As agreed, the sun set and (y/n) was currently out in the gardens sitting on the pergola swing set with a vodka bottle in her hands. It was a full size bottle but the content inside was almost empty.

*My POV*

My mind maybe fuzzy from dousing vodka most of the afternoon, but I was still sober enough to go to the garden and get on the pergola waiting for Freddie to get here.

I can’t believe this is happening. It’s—it’s like a bad dream or something. Please God don’t let this be real.

“Knock, knock.” I looked up and there stood Freddie. I gestured for him to sit down and he did as I said. I refused to look up at him because I knew I would break down, shitfaced or not. “Never did take you for drinking so early darling.” Freddie tried to lighten up the mood.

I spoke not a word. Everything was dead silent except for the crickets chirping.

“How long has everyone known?” my tone was completely broken. I heard him sigh and he confessed.

“I told Miami shortly after I was diagnoses in ’86. The boys didn’t find out three years after Miami found out.” I shut my eyes as tears fell down my face not believing this.

“So this whole time you all knew about this? And you didn’t bother to let me in on it?!” I snapped as I finally turned towards him. Tears stinging my eyes and threatening to come down.

“Darling I just wanted to keep this to myself. I wanted to protect the ones I loved most closest to me from being told this illness. Not even my family knows about this yet.” I looked at him, seeing the strength in his eyes behind his frail face. “I thought by not telling you, I would be sparing you this heartache. But I should’ve guessed I couldn’t hide anything from you this long. You’re just too clever my darling.” He gently stroked my cheek with his index finger wiping away the tearstains from my face.

I turned away from him and just looked down at my feet as I muttered brokenly.

“I did this to you.”

“What?” I sniffled and said.

“I did this to you Fred.” He looked at me confused and said.

“My rock angel that’s ridiculous, how could you have done any of this?” Finally setting the vodka down, I wiped my tears away from both my eyes and sniffled as I confessed and looked directly at him.

“Do you remember a few months before my wedding? Shortly after you and the boys shot the ‘I want to break free’ video?” Freddie looked at me solemnly and said.

“You mean the day I said those horrible, nasty things about you? I wish I could forget that day but it happened.”

“I told you that I wished that you were struck down in the worst possible way……and now here you are with the worst thing anyone could ever have!” I sobbed out. Covering my eyes with my hand, shutting them trying to keep any more tears from spilling out. “I did this to you Fred…..I did this…..”

“That’s bullshit darling!” he exclaimed. I felt him take my hand that was at my side as he said, “(Y/n), my rock angel look at me,” I was hesitant but I turned towards him, looking like a sad, pathetic drunken woman but Freddie didn’t care.

He stroked some of my hair out of my face tucking it behind my ear as he said.

“Now you listen to me darling; no one is to blame here. You are not to blame for this, the one person responsible for this is me. I was reckless, stupid, and gave too shits about what I was doing. I might’ve known the risks but I didn’t give a fuck about it. My moto was ‘I’m doing everything with everyone’ and not once considered what the result would be. But never, ever think that this was your fault, because it wasn’t. I don’t blame you; the boys don’t blame you; no one blames you.” I looked at Freddie with teary eyes and choked out in a faint voice that it almost appeared like a whisper.

“But why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“As I said I wanted to protect you darling. You were finally booming in your career just as we were. I didn’t want anything to drag you down. You didn’t deserve to be distracted by an old aging queen like me.” That managed to get a laugh out of me. “See, there’s my darling rock angel.” He wiped the tears away and I fully turned towards him.

He cupped my face into his hands and he looked straight into my eyes as he said in a more serious tone.

“Now I’m going to tell you exactly what you told the lads and I when we first found out about your parents; I don’t want you to fuss about it or frown about it, but above all don’t bore me with any sympathy. Because that’s just seconds wasted, seconds that can be used making music, which is all what I want to do with the time I have left. And you need to do the same, can you promise me that darling?” I sniffled and croaked out.

“I’ll try.”

“No dear, you either will or you won’t. Now give me the right answer.” His voice stern which made me flinch a bit but I knew it wasn’t out of anger at me directly.

“I promise.” I vowed to him. He nodded softly and said.

“That’s my Rock Angel, now no more tears darling, okay?” I nodded and that’s when he brought me into his embrace and I hugged him back as tightly as I could but kept it gentle so that I wouldn’t cause him any pain.

I remained in his arms for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Fred invited me along to the recording studio. Since I had completed my album, he thought it would be best for me to come over and see him record this one song that he had been working on with the guys.

He wouldn’t tell me much about it, just to come along and even bring Kelly along so that she could see it too.

Once we had arrived at the studio, I held Kelly’s hand in mine and that’s when she asked me.

“Do you think you and uncle Freddie could sing the pressure song after they’re done?”

“Maybe, but don’t count on anything okay Kelly? Your Uncle needs to rest his voice.” I entered the studio and was greeted by some of the technicians and office workers who pointed me in the direction of where the boys were.

When we reached the room, I saw Freddie put down a vodka bottle as he proclaimed to Brian who was sitting right beside him.

“I’ll fucking do it, darling!”

“Language Freddie, there is a child present in the room.” I exclaimed as I covered Kelly’s ears. The boys all turned toward me and that’s when Freddie said.

“So sorry dear.” I just shook my head at him as I grinned and that’s when Kelly raced up towards Freddie. He picked her up and set him on his lap and she asked him.

“You going to do a new song uncle Freddie?”

“Indeed I am my little nightingale, care to watch?” She nodded enthusiastically and that’s when Brian took a hold of Kelly and set her in is lap while Fred slowly got up from his chair and walked into the recording booth. I took Freddie’s seat and Roger came over and stood over me while Deacy was in the back isolated but still kept his eyes on Fred.

“Okay this is ‘the Show must go on’ take 1.” Brian spoke into the mic. “You ready Fred?”

“Yes Brian dear, let’s do it.” I then heard the track beginning to start. It was a powerful beat that already struck a chord in me and as it decrescendo, Freddie began to sing.

Play video

Even with as frail and ill that he looked, a man that was practically a walking corpse right before my eyes, his voice still held such power. Sure not as much as he once had, but Fred didn’t allow his AIDS to stop him from working, he kept at it.

Once the first chorus hit and his voice hit that falsetto I couldn’t help but have my breath literally be taken out from my body as I just stared at him. The lyrics were truly about Freddie and his struggles with this illness but he still knew and kept up with his famed phrase ‘The Show must go on’ no matter what.

And he sure as hell proved that on that day to me.

I could only stare at him in pure awe throughout the whole recording. To nail the notes he needed on just the first take, only someone like Freddie Mercury could do that. And I was damn proud to not only call him my idol, but my family.

At the very last note he hit with such raw power, I felt a shiver run up my spine as my eyes refused to leave him and I may or may not have been aware of it, but a few tears had fallen down my face.

By the end of the song, I heard Kelly say.

“Mummy you’re crying.” I turned to her and felt my cheek and could feel the wetness of the tears in my face.

“They’re happy tears my love.” I assured her as I wiped them away and saw Fred looking right at me. I pressed the mic button and said. “Killed it as always Fred.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can do it again.” Which caused me and the guys to choke out a laugh.

The following day at just before dawn, we were all at the airport and the guys were waiting for their private jet to take them back to London after doing a successful recording.

“You sure we can’t tempt you all to stay for a few more days?” asked Jack.

“No Jack darling we’ve taken up too much of your time. It’s time we were headed home.” Said Freddie. Jack nodded and that’s when Deacy spoke up.

“Thank you both for allowing us to stay in your lovely home.”

“Anytime Deacy, beats having to stay at a hotel or some rundown home the studio sometimes provides.” I said.

“Must you guys really leave?” Kelly asked as she leaned against her father’s shoulder looking toward her uncles and godfather sadly.

“Afraid so love, but don’t worry. You’ll be coming to see us soon.” Roger assured her as he lightly bopped her nose.

“How soon?” she asked.

“Faster than you think little one.” Brian answered her as he stroked down her hair before leaned down and giving her a kiss goodbye. The rest of the guys soon followed and we all hugged and kissed each other goodbye as their jet soon landed.

The boys grabbed their luggage and they left to get on the plane. They waved bye to us one final time and we waved back before they finally disappeared.

“I hope next time we see Freddie this fall he at least gets better. He looked so frail and ill; do you know what’s wrong with him (Y/n)?” I didn’t turn to face Jack but I immediately responded.

“I have no idea; they wouldn’t tell me anything.” I hated to lie but I made a promise to Fred. He made me swear to him that Jack and Kelly didn’t need to know about his illness because he didn’t want anyone else besides me to know now.

So I vowed to him that I’d keep his secret, and I did. From mid-February till late November I kept Freddie’s secret.

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puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

Text

an alliance you silly fool

for lack of a better title--here ya go. I’mma call this a sequel (or maybe just a spiritual sequel) to thermodynamic equilibrium which, in turn, is a sequel to heart and fire. Should I turn these into legitimate fics? Fuck idk.

Fire and Ice (subscorp) with tendrils of strange subplots--enjoy!

Broken Timeline

From the moment he woke up that morning, Johnny Cage knew that this was going to be the absolute strangest wedding he would ever have the pleasure of attending. The venue was idyllic with falling leaves of many colors scattered about, caught by wind and tossed here and there by eddies of breeze. Fujin’s on his game, thought the actor, passing beneath the archway that marked the entrance to the Shirai-Ryu Fire Gardens.

The place was a temple and a training complex all in one. The “facilities”, such as they were, bore the gravitas of age and deeply held tradition and dignity. The Lin Kuei dotting the area, therefore, were somewhat out of place. It was good, at least, to see them (those who remained) in flesh bodies—all save Cyrax, whose yellow chassis was impossible to miss.

Johnny could not help noticing the amount of Shirai-Ryu, a clear testament to the late Hanzo Hasashi’s dedication to their restoration. His heart gave a little, achy beat, then, when he counted and compared their number to that of the Lin Kuei. The titan of time had taken so much from Sub-Zero and his clan.

Kronika’s machinations had decimated the Lin Kuei; Sub-Zero had said as much, but seeing it first hand was gut-wrenching. “Great venue, though,” he commented to no one in particular.

“An ideal choice. Arctika would have been much too cold for the mortals in attendance.”

Johnny nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his old friend, Liu Kang. It felt like an age since he had heard that voice but despite all that, it forced a smile. Johnny played it as cool as he could and turned to face the keeper of time, glowing eyes and all. I’m never getting used to that.

“Liu, ya made it—lookin’ ah… divine, buddy.” He reached out and patted Lord Liu Kang almost hesitantly on the shoulder. He was hot to the touch, but the fire did not burn, sort of like Raiden’s low-grade EMP field. Speaking of... “Where’s ah…” Johnny craned his neck and looked around, as if he missed something. “Ol’ Sparky?”

“Lord Raiden is indisposed, unfortunately—elsewhere in the timeline.” Liu Kang seemed hesitant to offer details. This sensation, along with the lack of Raiden told Johnny something was up. He would have dismissed it but for a tiny discharge of what was little more than static electricity, arcing from Liu Kang’s upper body. Johnny nodded and gave a thumbs up, catching sight of Cassie, Jacqui, and Takeda Takahashi over Liu’s shoulder.

“A’ight well, good to… y'know see ya, Liu. I’m gunna—”

“We must speak later, Johnny,” said Liu Kang, grasping Johnny’s upper arm, shining eyes boring into his, even through the sunglasses. Johnny's heart skipped a beat. Liu knew him too well to hope he had noticed nothing. “After the ceremony.”

“Sure thing, man, no problem…” Johnny paused. “You okay?”

“I think I will be, once we speak.”

That was the best he was going to get, so Johnny let it lie and moved over to see the happy couple and his daughter. Jacqui was leading one child, their eldest, a six year old named Hanzo—the child was bright and gleeful, dark eyes sparkling with wonderment at the falling leaves—and her belly was swelling with another. She was radiant. Takeda balanced a two-year-old on his hip. Her name was Sonya and she was just as inquisitive as her brother, holding a red leaf in one hand and a small blanket in the other.

“Jacqui, Takeda, glad you’re here,” he greeted, pulling them both in for a hug.

“Mr. Cage,” they both chimed, wide smiles stretching across their faces. Everyone, it seemed, was fairly fond of Cassie’s father. She stood off to one side, offering her hand to little Hanzo when the adults squeezed him out in favor of a hug and catch-up session. The boy ran to her and slapped her palm before grasping it.

“You two look great—ah, hey, Jacqui… how’s your dad?” Johnny didn’t want to pry, but felt it was the right thing to do to inquire. It was what Sonya would have done. She was always well aware of protocol and propriety. Now he had to be the master of his own manners. It had gotten easier, but it still was not easy.

“He was…” Jacqui chewed her lip. “Today wasn’t great, to be honest, Mr. Cage; he has ups and downs.”

“This one was a down,” Takeda said, shifting his grip on Sonya, “but he sent us with all his respect and… honestly, curiosity.”

“Yeah, who’da thunk?”

Presently, Cyrax, who was acting as an usher, approached and gestured that the Takahashi family should follow him. Jacqui bid Johnny goodbye and there was melancholy in her eyes, a kind of regret that she could not offer more solid information or good news on her father. Johnny crossed his arms and found himself losing focus, staring off into the woods beyond the gates, thought and memory carrying him away.

When Liu Kang had taken control of Kronika’s crown—Johnny was informed that that had been a fight literally for the ages, like all of them—he had supposedly set about restoring the timeline,doing his best to put pieces back into place, where they belonged. It meant making many painful decisions, but Liu was, as ever, aided by Raiden, who had given his chosen champion his divinity that he might fulfill his ultimate destiny.

Liu Kang had offered little information on the arrangement. Fortunately, Raiden was a little more forthcoming than ever he had been previously. He had explained to Johnny and Cassie one afternoon upon visiting Johnny’s Beverly Hills residence that he had conferred his divinity permanently, but that he was still himself, an elemental, and that Liu Kang had given him that aspect of himself back once Shang Tsung had been defeated. For what reason and to what end was evidently not for Johnny to know.

“It will belong to Liu Kang again,” he had said, “once my mortal life is over.”

He had guided Fire God Liu Kang to make many decisions which hurt him deeply. Returning the younger versions of all of his friends to the past had been heart-rending. Johnny preferred not to think about it in depth. He had forgotten how much he liked Lao and Kitana until he had seen them in their younger forms again. It was doubly painful now to know they were back within their timelines, put into place to maintain the balance—Liu Kang’s balance. No more of that Kronika bitch, Johnny thought. That’s shitty balance.

“Something is on your mind, Cage-san.” It would be the second time that day Johnny would jump out of his skin. He whirled this time, recognizing the voice, but startled nonetheless.

“DO not sneak up on me—Jeezis…”

Scorpion shrugged. “Be more aware of your surroundings in a den of assassins.” He did not speak with malice, though his strange wraith’s eyes betrayed nothing and so Johnny had to go on instinct that he was not being menaced. Certainly Scorpion’s attire had changed; he wore the traditional robes of the Shirai-Ryu nuptial rites, rather than his customary yellow and black assassin garb. There was something comforting in that, but Johnny had laid money on there being some kind of violence at this wedding, so he was still hoping Scorpion was packing some kind of heat under all that fine fabric. Just one “get over here” would do me, I swear.

“Okay, you got me there—am I supposed to be sitting down? Also aren’t you like… shouldn’t you be hiding someplace ‘til it all starts?” He found himself observing the man’s hair, now, held up with an ornate pin that looked to be made of gold. Everything about this was weird, but also made a strange, cosmic sense. There was balance in this, too.

“Western wedding traditions and eastern ones are laid aside here,” said Scorpion cryptically. “We are neither. Shirai-Ryu descend from Outworld… But if you would be seated, we might begin.”

Before Johnny could respond, Scorpion sank into the ground in a flash of fire and heat. Johnny wondered if his hakama would be singed by so doing and chuckled, shaking his head at the thought. Heading toward the seats, he noticed that many people had arrived while he had been daydreaming and he wondered how he had missed them. Before he could worry much about that, Cassie had caught his eye and was signaling him to a seat near the Takahashi family and, of all people, Kung Jin.

“Good to see you, kid,” said Johnny, shaking Jin’s hand. Jin nodded.

“You kidding, Mr. Cage? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

The seats were filling, all familiar faces. Not many were complete unknowns; those who were quickly found their place among kindred spirits. This was an intimate affair, after all. Who would turn down the chance to see the legendary Fire Gardens of the Shirai-Ryu? There was low, murmured chatter, a few peals of laughter, and many wide eyes.

All at once, however, a hush fell over the crowd prompting the laughter to die down and the murmuring to become whispers. The wind which had been moving the multicolored leaves two and fro stilled and Fujin himself touched down near the back, settling into his seat. Grey Cloud leaned over and whispered something in the god’s ear; Fujin seemed pleased and smiled a crooked grin, nodding.

Kotal Kahn adjusted his headdress a moment, before taking it off and setting it to the side of his seat. Now is not the time to be emperor, he thought, but honored guest. Next to him, his empress’s smile was soft, approving, her hands folded in her lap. Lord Liu Kang had given them a great gift, restoring Jade to life and vitality. Their wedding had been the largest celebration Outworld had ever seen. She could not see how this could eclipse that, but was politely in attendance nevertheless.

Erron Black leaned forward and exchanged a few whispered words with Johnny, who shook his head, pointed toward the most ornate building in the Fire Gardens which was serving as the backdrop for the “stage” of this ceremony. Swatting Johnny’s shoulder, Erron leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Hang on! Don’t start without us!” A voice called from the entrance where a couple of Lin Kuei were struggling to lead a pair of figures who were now jogging toward the seated assembly. Johnny flew up out of his seat and lifted a hand.

“Lao! Kitana! How…?” He was baffled, but so very, very glad to have the seats in that row filled by these two. Perhaps Liu had done something similar for them to what he had done for Jade. It was good to see her sitting next to Kotal. This was balance.

“Divine intervention,” said Kitana simply, her face a broad, open grin. Dark eyes sparkled with delight and she looked as young and beautiful as ever. Lao had aged a bit, but he was still a knockout. Johnny flushed a little at the thought and shook his head.

“Well c’mon you acts of god, siddown.”

“You think there’s gunna be some kombat?” Lao asked, stuffing an elbow into his nephew’s ribs. Jin swatted at him and shrugged. Kitana shot a look at both and they sat back. Johnny shook his head.

“It’s a wedding,” Johnny stated nebulously.

“You’ll be eatin’ your words come this evening,” Erron declared without looking or offering context. Cassie looked between them, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Johnny pulled a face and gestured at Lao and Kitana to sit. Everyone else had gone silent, so it was clearly time.

A frigid bank of fog had settled into one side of the “stage”. Those closest were shivering, wrapping arms around themselves, smiling with heart-pounding anticipation. Of course this could not be a normal wedding.

Sub-Zero emerged from the fog bank, ice coating his hands, which he opened and held out toward the right side of the venue. His attire was formal, some kind of ancient Chinese wedding garb, very traditional, as Scorpion’s had been. What were they playing at? And where’s Liu?

“This’s gonna be a helluva show,” rumbled Erron Black, sitting a little straighter. Grey Cloud leaned over and whispered something else to Fujin, who nodded, but then covered his mouth, glowing eyes wide and darting toward his companion, who crossed thick arms with satisfaction and sat back looking very much like the cat who ate the canary.

A tornado of fire swept the fog and chill from the crowd and Scorpion stood, wearing the same garb in which Johnny had earlier seen him. Not a bit of it was scorched, which was impressive special effects, in Johnny’s mind. He tried to forget the magic bits as much as possible; it hurt his brain even now. He heard a low whistle from behind him, distracting his enchantment-driven discomfort. Evidently his gray matter wasn’t the only thing being strained constantly by their odd choice of companionship.

“It is Shirai-Ryu tradition that the intended must fight for his wife,” said Scorpion, his voice resonating over the quiet crowd without a need to raise it. “A brother, a father, an uncle, or cousin…” He gestured, arms out to either side of himself, as if to indicate that he had no relatives, that he was his only family. “I am nobody’s ‘wife’.”

This, at least, earned a chuckle, rippling through the crowd and easing some tension. Those who had been present from the beginning of the initial konflict knew well the former animosity between Scorpion and the man who had once worn the Sub-Zero mantle. More than that, they knew the rivalry between the Shirai-Ryu and the Lin Kuei, then brutalities committed against the former by the latter. This ceremony was unprecedented.

“But, I will represent myself.”

“I challenge you, then, Hanzo Hasashi, Grandmaster of the Shirai-Ryu, for the right to call you mine.” Sub-Zero’s dress garb had not changed, but his hands had retained their icy coating and, presumably, that ice was running up his arms now. A cold snap was fanning out from his position, placing a beautiful layer of frost upon the leaves and greenery closest to him.

“I assent.”

Scorpion was enveloped, then, in violent flames, the challenge accepted. These consumed his dress attire and replaced it with his yellow, black, and red assassin garb as he walked through it, untouched. Swinging the spearpoint of his chain almost lazily, Scorpion emerged. With a swift, unforgiving motion, he hurled it toward Sub-Zero.

“GET OVER HERE!”

The spear flew like lightning, taking Sub-Zero by surprise in the shoulder and tugging him forward into a stumble, staining his nuptial attire with blood. Scorpion was on him in an instant, pulling one of his swords out and swinging hard for the man’s face. Only a quick motion deflected it, ice coating the Lin Kuei Grandmaster’s arm and sending the blade spinning off and sticking into the fine wood of the dojo’s porch. The crowd gasped appropriately as Sub-Zero grasped the spear end and tugged it free, tossing it almost contemptuously onto the ground.

Scorpion retracted it and then began swinging it in another lazy arc as he approached, backing Sub-Zero toward a stone monument to the left of the dojo building. Before he could make another move, Sub-Zero had encased himself in ice and burst forth with a rolling tackle in his traditional blue uniform. Scorpion stood his ground and took the man’s momentum in stride, forcing him to one side and bringing a savage elbow down on his back. There was a grunt of agony from Sub-Zero, but the kryomancer did not release his hold, slowly beginning to chill his arms. Scorpion’s hand bearing the spearhead was trapped, but his other arm remained free and he beat Sub-Zero about the head and shoulders mercilessly, trying to free himself before hypothermia set in.

When his hand dropped open and the spear dropped from it, Scorpion knew he had to change tactics. He set his jaw and brought a leg up, aiming for Sub-Zero’s thigh muscle. The hit drove home and he broke away swiftly, rolling into a kick to the Lin Kuei Grandmaster’s jaw which sent him reeling onto his back. Sub-Zero manifested a snowpile—something he had recently cultivated—to catch himself.

“He’s not even fightin’,” Erron grumbled, arms crossed.

“Would you fight the man you loved? ‘Cause I wouldn’t.” Johnny’s mind flew, unbidden, to Liu Kang. “Besides, you’re still winning.”

“Damn right.”

“You’re BETTING on this?” Cassie’s hiss was so forceful, Johnny nearly jumped.

“Of course not, pumpkin, why would I do something like that?”

Meanwhile, Scorpion was bearing down on Sub-Zero, intent lacing every single one of his tightly coiled, compact muscles. He was an imposing figure, if only in reputation. As far as Johnny was aware, the man had never breached five and a half feet tall, if that—but make no mistake, he had more than earned his name. Supposedly—and everyone was inclined to believe this tale—he had, through sheer force of will and rage, fought his way through the Netherrealm to challenge Quan-Chi and demand his vengeance. The story, after that, became a bit sordid and most people did not repeat what came next.

Sub-Zero launched a few icicles in rapid succession at Scorpion, who was making a run at him. These, he leapt and ducked with almost practiced ease and then, with one tremendous heave, launched himself into the air to come down on top of Sub-Zero, spearhead kunai in hand, aiming very clearly for throat or face. Johnny could see their mouths moving from where he sat, but could not make out their words.

“Do you fight for your honor?”

“I fight for ours.”

“You will not best me.”

“I will.”

“I will kill you, Liang.”

“Hanzo… you are beautiful.”

Sub-Zero forced Scorpion’s arms, both of which were now employed in trying to drive the blade downward, up and over his own head, sticking the tip into the dirt. Both of Sub-Zero’s chilly arms had wrapped around his torso again, but the hold was much softer and without menace. He was holding Scorpion, rather than attempting to crush his ribcage.

“I… yield,” said Hanzo Hasashi, very quietly, sitting up and facing the crowd. “Before this assemblage… I yield.”

Johnny couldn’t help noticing that Sub-Zero’s hands had come to rest easily and comfortably on the yellow-clad assassin’s hips for but a moment before Scorpion stood and offered one of his own. Sub-Zero took it and stood, towering over his new husband, looking pleased, but hardly gloating. Both chests were heaving.

“That counts as violence,” Erron hissed in Johnny’s ear. Cassie was rolling her eyes in their direction, but her attention was mostly upon the spectacle before them. She had never, in her lifetime, had the privilege of witnessing the two Grandmasters really throw down. She was glad she did not have to take them on; one was enough and Sub-Zero had been toying with them. Proud as she was of her training, skill, and heritage, there was something to be said for the raw experience of age.

“Wait…!” Takeda called from a few seats down. He stood, gesturing. “Master Hasashi, your… your eyes!”

“My…” Scorpion paused and looked at Sub-Zero.

“You’ve returned to me, Hanzo,” whispered Kuai Liang, brushing a few stray hairs out of Scorpion’s face. “Body and soul.”

Johnny was the first to stand and applaud. Others soon joined until the entire crowd was surging to their feet with wild laughter and clapping and whistles, whooping and hollering. Jade considered this ceremony adequate competition to hers. Kotal was in tears.

“If anyone here has any reason these two should not be joined,” said Liu Kang, appearing from a portal just at the top of the steps to the Shirai-Ryu dojo. “Speak now and risk life and limb.”

“It is not recommended,” Sub-Zero added, holding Scorpion tightly.

#cc #cw #subscorp #thermodynamic equilibrium #mortal kombat

17 notes · View notes

connan-l · 4 years

Text

Quiet moments — Chapter 1: Michel and Maria

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationship: Michel Bollinger & Maria Campanella

Summary: A collection of unrelated short one-shots containing interactions between two The House in Fata Morgana characters.

Content Warnings: Very brief mentions of child prostitution, child abuse and suicidal ideation.

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: I just love making characters who wouldn’t normally interact, well, interact — and I also love giving attention to side and minor characters no one care about, so that’s how it happened. I wrote this on a whim and have no idea when I’ll be able to update it though, so don’t expect anything from me.

This will take place literally anywhere among the main game, Requiem and Reincarnation, so beware of spoilers!

I used the ‘Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ on AO3 just by precaution, but I don’t think there will be much to warn about, really. And if there is, I’ll put a content warning on top of the chapter anyway.

Takes place during Door 8, after Yukimasa told his story and Michel went to speak with Maria.

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Maria sat next to him and started talking, as promised. Despite being her usual assertive, confident self, she seemed a bit reluctant to discuss about her past — not because she was especially distrustful of Michel (although she still seemed pretty skeptical about everything he had told her), but because it just was her nature, he guessed. Given she was a young woman who grew up alone in a poor, dangerous district, it was only to be expected.

“I’m not actually born in this country, y’know?” She said suddenly.

“You’re not?” Michel asked, but he was not all that surprised. After all, Maria had been an Italian woman in the third door, so although a lot of things had changed in this era, it wasn’t odd that she wasn’t French.

“Yeah. I don’t really remember much about my hometown, though. I left when I was like, five or six maybe. My family… I think they must’ve been merchants or something, and they were travelling here for business. But they got into an accident and died. I had no one else, so I went into an orphanage here. I was a newly-orphaned foreign kid who barely spoke the language at all, so it was pretty rough at first…” She smirked. “But that’s when I met Pauline. She was a foreigner too, so although we didn’t come from the same country, I think maybe we felt some sort of kinship and that’s why we ended up clinging to each other…”

Michel tried to picture the two little girls in his mind; a mischievous six-year-old Maria and a tiny Pauline awkwardly following her around, none of them truly speaking the other’s languages but still trying to understand and play together… This mental image made him smile gently.

“Then you know the rest. Got fed up with the orphanage, ran away, ended up here and started working at the brothel… but anyway, you wanted to hear about Morgana, right? Bet you don’t care much about some ol’ whore’s childhood, haha.”

She laughed light-heartedly — as if she was talking about someone else, a character in a story, and not about her own difficult past. Michel winced instinctively, and hoped it didn’t show too much on his face. Maria had already briefly told them earlier about the abuse she experienced at the orphanage and that she became a prostitute when she was still just a young child. This life seemed so detached and so far away from the one he had lived that he struggled to imagine what it must’ve been like.

“There were… no other options for you at the time?” He asked softly, tentatively. “Maybe you could’ve gone to another orphanage, or…”

Maria narrowed her eyes with an annoyed expression, and Michel understood immediately he had said something insensitive.

“Which options?” She snapped back. “No way on earth I would’ve gone to another orphanage, I was done with that shit. It was the brothel or starving on the fucking street, so the choice was quickly made. Not everyone can be a noble rolling in dough like you, my dude.”

“Wha— How do you know I’m a noble?”

“Well, you just have that aura, you know? Your manners, the way you speak, you seem well-educated… You’re like that cute blonde pipsqueak — it’s just obvious we don’t live in the same sphere.”

Michel wondered if it really was that obvious, or if Maria was just very acute. Maybe it was both. He remembered, centuries ago, that Giselle had told him something similar, too — that he had a ‘regal’ aura, though back then he could never say if she was teasing him or if she was serious.

“I really… don’t consider my life to be that bad,” Maria whispered, her voice unusually quiet. “I mean, obviously it’s not great. I’ve been through some shitty times, I won’t deny that. I certainly wouldn’t complain if one day my good pal God took pity in me and decided to make me rich.”

She looked up in front of her — towards the horizon, her eyes vacant, and started to rub her naked arms. Michel couldn’t tell if it was because she was cold or because she tried to comfort herself from some bad memories.

“But… the simple fact that I am still alive right now makes me feel pretty damn lucky. Not everyone can say the same. So many of my friends — good, nice folks — didn’t get the same chance…”

The more he listened to her, and the more Michel felt kind of… uneasy. Had he ever felt like he was ‘lucky’ to be alive? Even during his darkest times, when he was locked up in his room at the Bollinger estate or during the ten years living in that haunted mansion, he couldn’t remember a moment where just the fact to be alive felt like a blessing. It rather felt like a curse, honestly. He couldn’t count the number of times he thought about dying, about all the times he almost made a suicide attempt — but how every time, old, fond childhood recollections of his brothers would come flocking back and make him hope that, maybe, just maybe, things could get better. But the idea that others may have had worse than him — like the dead girl who he tried to ignore for years and never attempted to understand, because understanding her would mean actually seeing her like a person and not like a formless cackling witch — thus that he should feel lucky never once crossed his mind. Back then, he was way too deep into his own pain and suffering that it never seemed relevant — until he met Giselle, that is.

And now that he thought about it… Michel certainly couldn’t say he had an easy childhood by any stretch of the imagination — especially not after his fourteen years old — but he still had been lucky enough to have been born into a noble and rich family. Aside from those two terrible years he spent being abused by Aimée, he couldn’t recall a time where he felt hungry or missed of anything. The same couldn’t be said of Maria.

Maybe she truly was good at reading people, because she seemed to instantly guess his train of thoughts and added: “Hey now, I didn’t say that to guilt-trip you or anything. I’m not interested in pity, anyway.”

“I wasn’t…”

She sighed. “If you nobles really feel so bad, then actually do something and use your power and money for a good cause, instead of ruminating. Some peeps could really need that.”

“Well… I am technically… not exactly a noble anymore…”

“Oh?”

“I was disowned.” And then I was killed, he thought. But I can’t exactly tell her that. “So I don’t have any power anymore. Though… even back then, I never had any actual power… everything was decided by my father and older brothers…”

“Hmm… Is that so… That sucks,” she declared, before crossing her arms. “So you had brothers?”

“Yes, but…” He took a deep breath. “We… something happened, and… They…”

Michel hesitated. Should he really start talking about himself right now? To Maria, of all people, who he only (technically) first met yesterday? But then he looked at the woman next to him in the eyes, who was silently and attentively listening to him. And he felt the need to continue.

“They betrayed me. And… they’re dead now. They died… a long time ago…”

He felt his chest tightening as soon as he mentioned his brothers, and his hands trembling a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have started talking about them after all. Mell and Nellie’s debacle had already reawakened some bad memories, and right now he needed to stay focused on Morgana and Giselle and—

Suddenly, he felt a soft, comforting pressure on his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw Maria looking at him with understanding green eyes as she was gently holding his shoulder, like an old friend would do.

“I dunno what happened to you exactly, so sorry if I asked something I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it’s fine…”

Maria looked away, wincing a little. “Though I… can relate. I had… well, I’m an only child, but… I did have someone I considered a brother once. And he… also betrayed me.”

Michel frowned, and was going to ask her more details… but then Maria looked at him and smiled.

“He died a long time ago too.”

It was… a strange smile. There was something nostalgic in it. Bitter, maybe. But also tender. Gentle. It wasn’t a smile he’d ever thought he’d see on the face of that rambunctious woman.

“I’m… sorry,” he said, stupidly, not being able to think something more eloquent.

She shrugged. “It’s okay. Like I said, it was a long time ago. I’m over it now.”

Michel could tell by the way she looked away and the sound of her voice that it was a lie. Maybe it hurt less — just like the intense pain of his brothers’ betrayal had slowly faded with time. But it wasn’t something you could just ‘get over.’

“Well, your brothers were idiots,” she suddenly said, and Michel arched an eyebrow.

“What?”

“It sounds like it’d be nice to have you as a brother, so they must’ve been idiots to betray you. I mean, you seem like a handful, but I’m sure I’d have a lot of fun teasing you. Too bad I wasn’t born as your sis. In another life maybe?”

Maria gently punched Michel in the shoulder with a wide grin and a wink, which earned him a chuckle. He wondered how much his life would have changed if he had had a sister in it, especially a sister like Maria. Would it have made things better? Or worse?

He couldn’t tell. However, he certainly wouldn’t refuse to have her as a sibling in another life.

#The House in Fata Morgana #FataMoru #Fata Morgana #Fanfiction #Fanfictions #Quiet moments #The House in Fata Morgana Fanfiction #FataMoru Fanfiction #Michel Bollinger #Connan's Fanfics #Connan's Posts #Door 8 #Door 8 (The House in Fata Morgana)#Maria Campanella #Michel and Maria #AO3 #Archive Of Our Own #Text #Writing

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peachywise · 5 years

Text

nullify

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader

- part i: the introduction || part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part iv ⋆ part v ⋆ part vi ⋆ more parts to be released

- synopsis: A child and a ghost whisperer walk into a diner. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but really it’s just the start of an odd, slightly painful night. Turns out they need you and your power to do something, and Klaus seems way to thrilled and fascinated by you and what you can do. (takes place after the events of the first season)

- notes: lmao how long has it been since i wrote a fic?? too long thanks anyways the reader is they/them pronouns and everything is pretty vague description wise for inclusivity and shit!! also even though this is klaus x reader focused ~romance~ wise i’ll be writing a shit ton with the reader interacting with the other guys like this part is deadass just as focused on number five as it is klaus. let me know if you guys want this as a series??? i won’t write more parts if people aren’t down but i left it open-ended so it could be a series but honestly, it’d be fine as a one-off too so read what you will k love you bye. tw for swearing

link on ao3

________________________________________

“Isn’t that a health code violation?”

Looking up from your book you'd been reading for the past half hour, you heaved a heavy-handed sigh. Sitting on the back counter of the dead dinner you worked at was the least of this shitty establishments problems. “I’ll be sure to let the rats in the kitchen know of your concerns,” you replied simply.

Dog-earring the page of your book, you set it down beside you. Hopping off, you stepped forward towards the counter as the kid who just entered sat down on one of the stools, planting himself with a look of clear repugnance as he eyed his surrounding subtly. Resting your elbows on the counter, you propped your head on your hands and gave a friendly grin, “I’m sure they’d be happy to whip up some Mickey Mouse pancakes, special just for you.”

His face though perfectly deadpanned couldn’t hide the slight tick of annoyance in his eyes. “Just get me a black coffee,” he muttered.

“Coffee will stunt your growth.”

“You’ll be stunted if you keep up this horrible customer service.”

“Ouch,” sarcasm dripped from your tone as you raised your hands up in mock defeat, “the kitten’s got a bit of a bite there, doesn’t he?”

Quite honestly, your day was now veering on to a particularly delightful route you hadn’t expected when you first woke up this morning. You suddenly believed some sort of divine karma was finally rewarding you with some quality entertainment. He could banter— a bit on the aggressive side, but you would take what you could get out of the interaction. You knew it wasn’t going to last long.

“Look, are you going to give me the coffee or are you just going to stand around all day uselessly taking in the air that could be breathed in by more deserving people?”

Oh, so he’s got knobby knees and wit to match.

Letting a slow amused smile cross your face as you gave a lazy curtsy, you casually made your way over to the fresh pot and grabbed one of the porcelain white mugs, giving him a knowing look as you poured a good ‘ol black cup of joe. Setting the pot back down, you sauntered your way back over still holding the smile. The kid rolled his eyes, reaching out a hand as he impatiently said, “thank you,” in a refined and expertly practiced condescending manner. But you didn’t hand it to him. No, instead you casually leaned back against the back counter and took a long sip of the burning hot liquid.

Well, the little tyke certainly did not like that.

In what was an actually flash of blue light before your eyes, the kid vanished from his place on the rickety red vinyl stool and was beside you a moment later, ripping the mug from your hand with such force that caused the liquid to spill over the sides, scorching your hand and splashing it on your already grease stained, 50’s themed uniform. So, he was words and action. You could respect that.

“What, no screaming? Not even another smartass comment?” He half-heartedly asked, his eyebrow quirked slightly as he studied you. It was like he was waiting for some sort of delayed reaction from his little magic trick. While yes, it was a little jarring to see it in the flesh for the first time, the moment he had walked through those glass doors you expected a bit of a ‘powerful’ confrontation.

You knew he was Number Five. You knew he was a part of that Umbrella Academy.

“You know who I am,” he stated in his all brilliant glory. Well, look at that. Seemed he was a real Sherlock as well as a tiny space hopper.

Easily taking the cup of coffee back, wincing slightly as the cold air pressed against the new burn you tried to seem unfazed about, you took a sip and mumbled against the rim of the cup, “I’m a bit surprised you’re here and actually alive, but it’s easy to remember a face that hasn’t aged a day." Setting the mug down on the counter, you pressed a hand to your hip and questioned, “how is that exactly? Did you run from home just to make yourself immortal? Found yourself an Edward Cullen to bite you or something?”

Now, you’ve had people look at you like you were stupid before, but no one with a talent such as him. Even though he was looking up at you, he still mastered that beady squinty little look that read ‘you’re the joke of the earth’. Precious.

“I don’t know who Edward Cullen is, but I’m not immortal, and I don’t have time to explain the whole story to you in detail. Let’s just say I got stuck in time.” Doing his little magic flash again, he appeared back on the other side of the counter, continuing to speak as he added, “Is anyone else here? I assume you’d rather show me what you can do without anyone else around.”

Ah, yes. What you could do. So that was why he was here. Part of you wondered if someday it would happen. That’s why you knew who he was when he first walked in after all. You kept tabs on all of them, at least a bit. Yeah, the whole “Umbrella Academy” was famous for a little while when you were a kid, but most people had since forgotten them and the kids in the academy had grown up and had become almost unrecognizable. Well, apart from Five. And maybe Allison, but hell, she was famous for a while different reason now.

Like the others, you were born October 1st 1989 to a completely unexpecting mother who got the shock of her god damn life. If you were 9 months pregnant in under a minute flat, you’d probably be pretty shocked too. However, you were just stunned that something as odd as that could actually happen and result in you getting powers.

Unlike the others, when your parents were approached by professor evil monopoly Reginald Hargreeves, your mom rejected anything he offered in favor of her miracle baby. She was certain she was the new Virgin Mary despite absolutely not being a virgin and refused to give up that title up. At least at that moment, she didn’t want to anyway.

“You managed to figure out where I worked, and I assume at this point you know my name,” you started, “so why don’t you just tell me what I can do and let me know why you're here so I can turn you down and get back to my book.” Gesturing your hands around the extremely empty diner, you breathed, “I’m a very busy person as you can see.”

Five didn’t say anything, instead just giving you an almost thoughtful look. You didn’t trust it one fucking bit.

Quicker than you would have expected out him, he reached over and picked up one of the plates on the counter and threw it your way with such force you wondered for a second if the reason he'd been missing for so long was because he’d taken up a passionate love affair with baseball. On instinct, damn the treacherous thing, your body chilled as a static feeling pushed out of you, surrounding you in a soft, nearly invisible blue bubble-- your force field. The plate bounced right off and landed on the floor, shattering lamely and loudly.

It was legal to kill a kid who had been missing for years, right?

“Can’t you play a game of catch with the poor kid?” Came a new drama-dripped voice in the door, the little bell ringing softly as he spoke. “His father was a sociopath who didn't pay him any mind, he’s very stunted as you can see. So desperate for the affection and attention of strangers.”

Klaus. He’d been harder to track over the years, but from the feather collared jacket and lack of shirt, you could spot the eccentricity of him miles away.

Taking on a protective stance, you moved from behind the counter and positioned yourself in front of Five, stage whispering to him, “careful, looks like one of the kitchen rats got out. They’re very diseased.”

Klaus tilted his head to the side, his mouth snapping open and his eyebrows rising up in stunned amusement. Pointing at you, he turned his attention towards Five and stated, “I’m wounded! This seems to be going on spectacularly, don’t you think?”

Shaking your head with a slight grin, you started to speak to ream five out for throwing a freakin’ plate, but your words died off on the tip of your tongue when your gross ass boss pushed open the doors to the kitchen, his loud, gritty greased voice shouted, “what did you break out here?” His spine went rigid a bit when he seemed to finally note the presence of two other people, but his eyes quickly glanced at the shattered plate and his face continued to get splotchy and red. “Is that your kid who broke it? Jesus, that’s coming out of your paycheck.”

Wow, that 50 cent shitty plate? How would you ever survive?

Hands slipped around your neck in a hug as Klaus propped his chin on top of your head, his attention fully on your boss. “I’m so sorry sir, you know how it is with kids, gotta get all those angst and deep-seated feeling out somehow. Yesterday we found out he’s been pretending the family cat was his girlfriend. Had to take him to the hospital to get those scratches on his little friend checked out, if you know what I mean,” he smiled, moving away from you to pat the clearly seething Five on the head.

Before the kid could say anything or do something that would get you in more shit, you plastered your own happy little smile on and bent down beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you continue to address your boss. “He was just upset because he found out I told his teacher about his little bed wetting problem.” Five ripped your arm away with incredible force and stepped away from you both. Sighing dramatically, you rested the side of your face on your palm and slightly shook your head, adding, “It’s so hard, I just don’t know where we went wrong!”

Klaus snickered behind you, while your boss looked properly petrified and regretful about having walked in on the whole ordeal at all.

“Just uh-- forget about it. Clean it up okay?”

Giving him a wink and you stood back up, you flicked your wrist in a lazy salute. “You got it, Boss Man.” He couldn’t turn back around and get back to the back room fast enough.

Turning the face the two once again, Klaus grinned as he said, “brilliant work,” raising his hand for a knowing high five. You happily obliged.

“Was that really necessary?” Five ground out from between his teeth, as you shot him back an incredulous look. “Was it necessary to throw a plate at me?” you retorted, fully not expecting him to reply with, “Yes. It was the only way I could make sure you had a force field.”

Smartass.

Running your hand through your hair tiredly to get it out of your face, you crossed your arms again and didn’t bother to argue anymore. “Just tell me what this is about.” At this point, you were tired and really just wanted to get back to your quiet night. Klaus was also giving you a once over every thirty seconds and you weren’t quite sure what he looked so bloody excited and anxious about.

“I have a theory, and I’d like to test it out,” Five said. Klaus quickly interjected with, “and I’m one of the test subjects,” wiggling his eyebrows as he did.

Narrowing your gaze, you questioned “one of?”

“Well, it requires you, but before I explain, to what extent can you use your powers? Have you done anything more than just deflect things off your field?”

You shook your head, confusion still clouding your words. “That’s all. Some guy tries to knife me? He bounces off. Sometimes I get lucky and he stabs himself in the process. It’s a simple thing.

“How many times has someone tried to knife you?” Klaus asked with a small snort, but Five cut him off with a great little bomb of information. “I’ve done some calculations on how your power works, and I think that if someone like us was in the field with you it might nullify our powers.”Huh.

“And... math makes you think that?”

Five rolled his eyes. You got the idea he did that a fair bit. “I want to test out to see if that’s true, so if you will, please conjure up your field around you and Klaus and we’ll see if it works on him.”

Flashing your eyes to Klaus who almost seemed to jitter with excitement, your eyes got slightly wide when you asked, “wait, there’s a ghost here? Like right now?” You swiveled your head around like you would actually be able to see it.

Klaus nodded his head. “Ben, meet Y/N, Y/N meet our brother Ben.” Pressing a hand to his heart, he added, “forever in our hearts and forever by my side. I am his saving grace.” Turning his head abruptly, he quickly said, “shut up,” to the air-- or Ben, rather-- slicing his hand in a silencing sound.

Raising a hand hesitantly, you gave a flick of your wrist in that direction, squeaking out a small, “Hi Ben.”

“If you two idiots are done,” Five muttered, but you stopped him as you said, “three idiots. It’s rude to dismiss Ben’s presence. You're his brother, be respectful.” Five ignored you. “The sooner we test this, the sooner we can leave.”

Oh, now he was speaking your language.

Shaking out your shoulders, you widened your stance and clapped your hands, saying, “alright, let's go.” Klaus gave some excited little claps as he stepped to your side, telling Five, “field trips are always so much fun!”

Taking in a deep breath, you let the energy seep out of you until that familiar snap surrounded you, this time entrapping not on you, but Klaus as well.

The smiling man quickly went silent.

“So,” you started hesitantly, turning to study his face. “Did it work?”

Multiple emotions seemed to cross his features, and it revealed to you certain hopelessness and vulnerability that was so unfamiliar to you and what you had known about him. It dawned on you at that moment that you had no idea what this meant. To him. To Five. Christ, nerves started to wrack through your body when you realized they could be having you do this just to try and kill you because they see it as some sort of ridiculous threat. Still, that seemed unlikely. No, they needed it somehow.

And as Klaus turned towards you, looking at you as if you were some wonderous figure and not just some crappy diner waiter working two jobs just to get by, you realized that whatever they had been searching for, they had found. Whatever Klaus had been searching for, he had found.

“They’re gone.”

His voice was just a fraction above a whisper, but it sent a chill across your skin as his intense gaze once again studied you with incredible fascination. But as he took a step forward, his hand oh-so-gently reaching for your hand, your focus went away and the force field fell, all the sounds and senses of the real world hitting you all at once.

Five was staring at you both with an odd look you didn’t quite know what to think of.

“Alright."

Clearing your throat, you took a small step back as the fog cleared out of your head, stating back a dull, “huh?”

“We’ll be at your apartment in the morning. Get ready to meet the others.”

Wait, what the fuck?

“My apartment? You guys haven’t even explained what you guys want from me!” You blurted, moving your head rapidly as you looked back and forth between the two.

“I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” was all Five said, as both him and Klaus began moving towards to door, clearly content with what they came here to do. Well, that was nice for them. They could sleep soundly as you sat up in bed all night looking up fucking umbrella academy conspiracy theories to try and convince yourself what happened here was actually real.

“There’s no way in hell you’re getting those Mickey Mouse pancakes now!” You shot back as he exited the door, huffing as you turned around to go clean up the plate.

Then something smacked hard on the back of your head, landing on the ground with a little rattle.

“Oopsie.”

Spinning around, gripping the back of your head, you were about to yell obscenities at Klaus who’d just thrown a spoon of all things, but he was already halfway out the door calling behind him, “I thought your little bubble would just appear like a party trick, bye!”

Idiots. Idiots had just taken over your life.

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreen imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #number five #five

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missn11 · 4 years

Photo

Chapter two and three of The Devil’s Advocate, since chapter two is quite short, but these chapters are giving us some build up by introducing a mysterious woman luring people in a poorer neighborhood to the local abandoned church with her song. And we catch up with Liza and Owain and see how things are done in the Atlanta Camarilla court.

The song called. Antwuan made his excuses to his friends and left. They weren’t going anywhere. Nobody Antwuan knew was going anywhere. Nobody but Antwuan. His friends had always ragged on him. Except for Little Johnnie, Antwuan was the only one who’d stayed out of trouble, “kept his nose clean,” like his mama put it. Soon he would be old enough to work for his uncle Maurice driving a cab. He was going to save some money, buy his own place. The ladies would like that. He wasn’t going to spend his whole life in Reynoldstown.

I seen too many folks get shot down, or go crazy on drugs. None of Antwuan’s friends really thought they’d live much The Devil's Advocate 63 past thirty, anyhow. None except Little Johnnie, and he was just too scared to get himself killed. Antwuan liked hanging out with his friends, but he didn’t need them every night. And it wasn’t every night that the song called. The first time Antwuan had gone had been for other reasons. Taquanna had hinted that he should come, so he’d figured, play his cards right, he might get down her pants. Seemed worth a shot. Since then, though, there was no question. The song called, he was there.

The old church had always been a part of the scenery for Antwuan. It was there, he just didn’t mess with it. Nobody messed with it. The place had that feel to it, and people stayed away. Not even the up and coming gangstas congregated there. Hell, Antwuan reasoned, plenty other boarded up buildings to trash.

Lol, I think we have a title drop here with that street name!

Again as he approached, Antwuan heard the notes that floated through the night and sum- 64 Gherbod Fleming moned him. He had never heard the song before that first time, but now he heard it every time, no matter where he was. This past summer he’d been down at a Braves’ game, and even over the miles, the traffic, and the crowds he’d heard it and hopped on MARTA and gotten back as quickly as he could. There was no one else around as he walked up the cracked sidewalk into the shadows surrounding the church. But there would be others, he knew. The song would reach out to those who were aware, and many would come. Antwuan was glad he lived so close and could almost always make it. He reached for the door, the lofty, lilting notes pulling him more forcefully now. It was a prelude, as his mama called it when she made him go to their church, only this music was far more alluring than any church prelude, and the service was nothing he would expect from Preacher Rutherford. Antwuan chuckled at the thought, but immediately fell silent as he entered.

She stood at the front of the sanctuary before the toppled, graffiti-carven pulpit—the pale angel. Her skin was white as ivory, made more noticeably so by the dark black hair and straight bangs that framed her thin face, now lifted toward the heavens, eyes closed, lips slightly parted to allow forth the most enticing sound heard to man.

Place your bets on what Clan this woman is! I’m thinking at the moment a Toreador with a high level Presence.

Her voice brought them to her, held them there, not that they would want to tear themselves away. Antwuan closed his eyes, let the music ease his mind, carrying away thoughts of trouble, of his mama pestering him to get a job now instead of waiting till he was old enough to work for his uncle, of the long empty days since he’d dropped out of school, of wondering if the gunshots he heard at night would kill a member of his family or one of his friends. The daily concerns were washed away, replaced by soothing music, the closest thing to true contentment that he’d ever experienced. But even this contentment was not complete. At its heart was a tiny ache, the seed of desire, a rising need. The music did not erase this need, did not carry it away, but rather caressed it, cared for it. Now the music changed, shifted indescribably. Antwuan knew that if he opened his eyes he would see the others around him, ten or fifteen of them. He felt the familiar presence of Taquanna beside him, her shoulder inches from his. The angel still 66 Gherbod Fleming sang above them; her music reminded Antwuan of a song his grandmother used to sing to him as a little boy, but he couldn’t quite fully summon the tune to memory. Besides, that would only distract him from the pleasure at hand.

and then they dance and Antwuan has sex with Taquanna, which isn’t told in great detail, more tastefully really. Then later Antwuan feels super happy on the way home and he collapsed on his bed, sleeping until very late into the day.

Chapter three starts with Liza making her way to the art museum for the Camarilla gathering

Liza took a detour through Piedmont Park. She loved the freedom of walking the city at night by herself, something she couldn’t do as a mortal. Not only did she revel in her newfound powers, she always looked for a chance to show them off, to convince herself they were real more than to impress anyone else. Liza don’t need nobody else, she told herself quite often. She hoped somebody would give her trouble, wished that some thinks-he’stough asshole would try to mug her, or better yet, to rape her. She’d leave him with his dick stuffed down his throat. I bet ol’ Dietrich give Francesca a big hard one, Liza mused.

Probably got spikes just like on his head. The Devil's Advocate 69 Strangely enough, it was Francesca that intrigued Liza more. The way she rrrolls her rrrrs. The very thought gave Liza shivers. Maybe the two women would meet again, without Dietrich. The freak. Who knew when another Sabbat mission might bring them together again? The team had worked well enough: Liza, the Atlanta native, guiding; Dietrich helping herd their prey; Francesca giving the orders and immobilizing old what’s-his-name at the end. To Liza’s disappointment, it was a slow night in Piedmont Park. After about forty-five minutes completely unmolested—not even a nibble—she headed toward the High Museum of Art and Prince Benison��s exhibit.

The Camarilla, the vampire sect that controlled Atlanta, claimed every vampire as a member. So Liza, as an Atlanta Kindred, was automatically invited, even if Benison didn’t really want her there. Technically, she was an anarch, a rebel who didn’t acknowledge the strictures of the Camarilla, at least not all of them. But since the Camarilla claimed her, there was plenty of gray area to use as she saw fit. Liza liked gray area. Gray area meant freedom. Although if Benison, or any of the 70 Gherbod Fleming other Atlanta Kindred for that matter, found out about her Sabbat connections, that would be the end of freedom, not to mention her life. She’d be staked, or beheaded, or left out for the sun, or all three.

And we get our first look of who’s who of the Atlanta Camarilla court at the gathering.

Occasionally, Benison had midnight prayer breakfasts at Rhodes Hall, his mansion just a bit down Peachtree Street. Liza avoided those like the plague. No way was she going to go listen to the crazy Malkavian prince spout scripture, pretending that God still cared about the Damned. Liza the The Devil's Advocate 71 anarch had that freedom. She could skip out on any gathering she felt like. Not so for these other Kindred. Stupid bastards. Prince Benison frowned on subjects missing his courtly functions. That was another reason to attend this relatively painless exhibit: to rub it in the others’ faces that she didn’t have to be there.

And they were all there all right, Liza noticed: Eleanor, the prince’s snobby bitch wife wearing her poofy Gone With the Wind dress; Benjamin and Thelonious, resident legal eagle and Mr. Civil Rights, brothers who bought into the white folks’ world; Owain Evans, the youthful and good-looking but boring-ass businessman; Hannah, the local Tremere grand wizard or whatever; Marlene, artist wannabe, porn queen more likely. There were others too, but Liza was distracted by the sight of Alex Horndiller, Benison’s righthand ghoul, leading two young men, mortals, toward the center of the gallery. She strutted over to them, her black tights drawing quite a few stares amidst the formal evening wear crowd.

Liza causes a stir when she feeds on two of the ghouls before the Prince has a chance for the first sip.

She slapped the ghoul on the shoulder, hard enough that he almost stumbled. “Corndicker, what you got for me?” Without another word, Liza took the forearm of the first young man, tall, blond, maybe in his early twenties, and sank her teeth in. He flinched only slightly; the collective gasp that arose was from the onlookers. Liza tried not to 72 Gherbod Fleming laugh—she hated when blood ran out her nose— but it was so like the courtly Kindred to be shocked…like she knew they would be. The two men were the refreshments for the evening, common vessels, but of course the prince should have enjoyed the ceremonious first sip. Liza wasn’t hungry, not after feeding on that vampire sap with Francesca and the Elephant Man, but this was almost as much fun as ripping apart muggers in the park would have been. She let go of the first man and grinned at the irate Horndiller, red splotches forming on his face. “Not bad,” she said as she winked and pinched the blond vessel’s ass. “And I like the Dixie cup.” Before Horndiller could form his indignant sputterings into words, Liza sank her teeth into the second man, stockier and more darkly complected than his counterpart.

She had drunk only a little when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Corndicker’s got more balls than I…but before she could finish the thought, she was spun roughly around, and to her shock, it was not Horndiller who held her. Instead, it was J. Benison Hodge, prince of Atlanta. Liza stumbled backward in surprise, but the prince’s iron grip held her upright, his fingers pressing down to the bone of her shoulder. He towered above her, his massive dark red beard inches from her face, his green eyes ablaze with more anger than Liza had ever seen in them.

She tried to speak but The Devil's Advocate 73 could only wince at the pain as he squeezed her shoulder more tightly. The prince spoke in a low, throaty growl. “I offer hospitality, and you mock it.” The words were meant for her, but Hodge’s forceful baritone easily carried across the chamber to the onlooking Kindred, about whom Liza had very nearly forgotten. The prince released her shoulder and quickly drew back his hand to strike her backhanded across the face…but he stopped, spotless white glove raised, arm trembling with rage. His stiffened jaw forced his beard forward. “I will not tolerate this.”

Liza could do nothing but cringe at this awesome display of barely controlled ferocity. One swipe of his gloved fist would likely crush every bone in her face. She suddenly felt very young and weak and small confronted with this force of nature that was the prince. Benison took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. Just as slowly, he lowered his arm. Not for one moment did his severe gaze release Liza from scrutiny. “For one year and one night, I do not want to see you, I do not want to so much as hear report of your name.” A savage, psychotic glint flashed across the prince’s fiery green eyes, as if he wanted to end it now, as if he wanted nothing more than to strike her down this instant for her affront to his honor, but the brief wavering passed, and though his wrath was undiminished, restraint held the day. “If I do, 74 Gherbod Fleming you will find final death.” The prince turned his back to her. “Begone.” It took Liza a second to realize that she had not been struck down, that he had not snapped her neck as surely he could have. She swallowed her wounded pride and slunk away

Then we switch over to Owain’s POV, who’s still thinking about the chess game he lost.

Owain probably had never been to a courtly function in a fouler mood. Three hundred years of strategy and planning abruptly catapulted to hell, he kept telling himself. It was not a misfortune he could lightly set aside and forget. How? How could it happen? Overconfidence? Carelessness? The art exhibit was hardly a sufficient distraction. At least it’s not one of those damnable prayer breakfasts. Prince Benison, through his contacts on the board of the High Museum, had commandeered this gallery to show the artwork of one of the Atlanta Kindred, Marlene. Marlene fancied herself something of a sculptor, and though she was Toreador, Owain did not feel that the term “art” accurately described her accomplishments. Apparently ceramics or clay were too subtle media; Marlene had taken to welding together various shapes and sizes of scrap metal and then attaching somewhat grandiose titles to the resulting monstrosities. What her work lacked in vision it certainly made up in magnitude. No mantlepiece The Devil's Advocate 75 collectibles in this portfolio.

Not a big lover of modern art is he? XD

As usual at these functions, Owain attempted to stay out of the way. There was much more to be learned from watching and listening than from taking a lead in most endeavors, a fact that Owain had learned well over his centuries of vampiric existence. And one that anarch rabble would do well to learn, Owain thought as Liza was shown the door. Her little outburst had been entertaining. Owain had to admit that, although he had been quite guarded in not displaying his amusement at the spectacle. She won’t live long confronting a prince that way. Owain was surprised by her brazen recklessness, her stupidity. There are more efficient ways to undermine a princes’ position, subtler ways, safer ways. Owain could only wonder if the prince’s treatment of her might have been more irreversibly detrimental had she had time to actually insult the “artwork.”

At the time of Liza’s little scene, Owain had been standing to a side of the room, near the Tremere chantry leader, reclusive Hannah. He was close enough that most passersby, assuming that he and Hannah were merely pausing in conversation, continued on without disturbing him, but not so close that he actually had to speak to the Tremere. Owain suspected that Hannah appreciated the arrangement as well, she not being one of the more socially ambitious Kindred in the city. For the most 76 Gherbod Fleming part, the only people who expressed more than the most passing of interests in speaking to Hannah were her Tremere lessers from the chantry. Several attempted to toady but quickly retreated having received nothing but coldly polite and formal responses

Owain also noticed that Chantry Mistress Hannah’s reaction to the anarch-prince confrontation was as muted as his own, only a slight wrinkling of her nose indicating her distaste. Owain himself was not a stickler for manners. Over the years he had come to see their value as a stabilizing factor in both mortal and Kindred affairs. He was not offended by the “affront to the prince’s honor.” Rather he was dismayed by the anarch’s idiocy. Owain shook his head thinking of her misguided actions. She wanted to embarrass him, to damage his reputation.

But Hodge came out looking stronger than ever, and now she’s banished for a year and a night. Owain laughed to himself. A nice touch that—a year and a night. Hodge does have a flair for the dramatic. The duration of the punishment was a clear echo of the length of Arthurian quests—a year and a day. Owain was particularly enamored with the legends, as many of the earliest were of Welsh origin. It was clear to Owain that the prince saw himself as some type of crusading knight, protector of moral fortitude. It fit all too perfectly with the prince’s other derangements.

No, Owain was not offended by Liza’s little show, unlike many of the other gathered Kindred who bought so completely into the aura of southern gentility that Hodge, his wife Eleanor, and his sire Aunt Bedelia so convincingly affected. To Owain etiquette was a means, not an end unto itself. It was sometimes the only keeper of civility between enemies, and more importantly it was a veil behind which to work deceit. That line of thought reminded Owain that there was business to be conducted this evening. Mostly he was biding his time, making sure to stay long enough not to insult the prince, but not so long as to seem to be attempting to ingratiate himself. Almost no vampire, Owain felt, was worth the time of a social engagement, and very few mortals or ghouls. But if he had to be here, he might as well get something accomplished.

Then Owain tends to some business but first he has a brief encounter with the Prince’s sire, Aunt Bedelia.

He scanned the room until he saw Benjamin, a fellow Ventrue but hardly a friend. As he moved to leave his safe haven near Hannah, however, Owain nearly stumbled over Aunt Bedelia in her antique wheelchair being ushered around the gallery by her childe the prince. “Goodness, J. Benison. Someone has stepped on me,” Aunt Bedelia chittered shrilly. “Who is that?” She squinted up through her half-moon spectacles in Owain’s general direction. Her heavy wool dress swallowed her frail form. “My apologies, Mother,” muttered the prince, 78 Gherbod Fleming gracious and mild-mannered now that civility was restored to the gathering. “This is Owain Evans.” Owain smiled dutifully. “Never heard of him.” “Of course you have, Mother,” Benison patiently reminded her. “He came from Europe during the Great War. He’s from Wales originally. He…” “Never heard of him,” Bedelia snapped, testily this time.

The prince lowered his head and sighed. “Of course you haven’t, mother. Mother, I present to you Owain Evans, Ventrue of King Road, Atlanta. Mr. Evans, my sire Aunt Bedelia.” Bedelia held her left hand before her. Owain, standing to her right, glanced at the prince who was watching him expectantly, so he stepped around her, delicately took her hand, and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine, Aunt Bedelia.” “Charmed, I’m sure.” Bedelia smiled sweetly, quite content now that she had been paid the proper respect; so content, in fact, that she had apparently fallen instantly asleep, her eyes closed now instead of squinted. She began to snore quietly.

Benison was smiling broadly. “Always good to see you, Owain. Mother and I couldn’t be happier that you made it this evening. Enjoying the artwork?” Before Owain could answer, the prince glanced off to his left. “No, I don’t think we need to send any- The Devil's Advocate 79 one to follow her,” he said, answering a question that no one had asked. Then, without missing a beat, he was smiling at Owain again. Owain hesitated. This peculiar behavior was nothing new for Benison.

The prince waited a moment. “The artwork?” he asked again. “Oh yes,” Owain assured him. “I’ve seen nothing like it elsewhere.” Benison cuffed Owain on the shoulder and laughed heartily. “Good, good. Of course you haven’t. Our little Marlene is quite the artist.” “She is something,” Owain agreed. He wondered what else Marlene was to the prince that she should merit such patronage. Owain had it on good authority that the prince’s wife was no paragon of fidelity. Perhaps the indiscretion was reciprocated. Though few vampires retained any type of sexual desire, there were always other…displays of affection that a spouse might guard jealously. “Well, Mother and I must attend the other guests,” said the prince. “Always good to see you, Owain. Enjoy the exhibit.”

At this, Bedelia perked up. Her gentle snoring ceased abruptly as she blinked herself awake. She squinted up at Owain as if she had just asked him a question and was expecting an answer. Owain, nodding respectfully at the prince, saw that Bedelia was still watching him expectantly. “A 80 Gherbod Fleming pleasure to see you, madame,” he offered. She continued staring at him, as if oblivious to his statement. “Have we met, young man?” Benison broke in quickly, “Well, Mother, here’s your favorite bridge partner, Hannah,” as he wheeled her away. “J. Benison, why didn’t you introduce us?” Bedelia was asking, but the prince continued on their way, greeting Hannah with great enthusiasm and seeming not to hear the protestations of his sire.

Owain gratefully slipped away. He always had gotten on fairly well with the prince. Both were warriors and, even though their wars were of different eras, there was a certain camaraderie in that. Aunt Bedelia was a different matter. Owain was sure her “forgetfulness” was merely an intended slight, a game meant to lessen him somehow. He shrugged off the encounter. Let the old hag pretend she doesn’t know me. I’d rather continue advising the prince than have her approval. Now where has Benjamin gotten to? Must have slipped into a side gallery.

He also skirted the main work of the exhibit, a behemoth of a piece consisting of three major chunks of curved and twisted metal The Devil's Advocate 81 with numerous smaller additions, suspended in its entirity from the ceiling by chains. It was a work Marlene had crafted several years ago titled “Benison’s Ride,” in honor of the prince’s purging of the Atlanta area of those anarchs and caitiffs who had not paid him the respect of announcing their presence to the court. Benison was quite fond of the piece and arranged for public viewings periodically for the edification of the Kindred in his domain. A vociferous Brujah had surmised that the sculpture was actually a representation of a whale spewing forth a Volkswagon. The prince felt otherwise. That particular Brujah no longer resided in Atlanta. Other colorful yet more discreet speculations had included but not been limited to: a severely disfigured head wearing a propeller hat, three falcons fornicating, and a ballet dancer engaged in projectile vomiting. At the original unveiling, Owain had limited his response to polite applause.

Finally Owain finds Benjamin with the Prince’s wife Eleanor.

Benjamin, an African-American dandy with his impeccable Brooks Brothers suit, tidy short-cropped hair, and wirerimmed glasses, was relatively young in his undeath but there was power in his blood. Next to the prince’s wife Eleanor, he was ostensibly the most influential Ventrue in Atlanta. Owain tended to keep his distance from clan politics; he’d been there too many times before. The fewer everyday entanglements the better, he felt. Both Benjamin and Eleanor, however, held this detachment against Owain and regarded him with suspicion. If they only knew how much older and more powerful he was than they, they would fear him as well.

“Benjamin, we must speak,” Owain said as he approached. A young female, whose name escaped Owain at the moment, edged away from Benjamin with only a glare at Owain, a grudging display of deference to the elder. Benjamin frowned, the expression causing his glasses to slide down his nose. “Yes, Owain, how The Devil's Advocate 83 may I be of service?” he asked in a cool formal tone. Benjamin’s slight but noticable English accent always amused Owain. True, the young lawyer had studied for several years at Oxford, but after more than fifteen years back in the States such an acquired accent would normally have faded. Unless, of course, the bearer consciously chose to maintain it as an affectation, a vanity. Owain, after living in Wales, London, France, Spain, and now Atlanta, had studied language and made a concerted effort to acquire an almost accentless English that raised no eyebrows. Speech patterns could give all too much away about a person. Even his current name, “Owain Evans,” was a concession to the need to remain unobtrusive and seemed choppy and harsh in comparison to his original “Owain ap Ieuan.” “Owain?” Benjamin’s voice snapped Owain out of his woolgathering, a bad habit and one he’d been succumbing to increasingly of late. “How may I help you?”

Owain edged closer to his fellow Ventrue and spoke in a low voice that would not be overheard by the other Kindred milling about. “I need a favor, a simple thing really.” Benjamin regarded Owain skeptically but said nothing. “There is a certain case,” Owain continued, “that will be heard this week by Justice Chamberlain of the Superior Court. You know Justice Chamberlain?” Benjamin shrugged noncommittally as he pushed 84 Gherbod Fleming his glasses back up. “He’s an acquaintance.” “Ah. How fortunate. You see, this particular case involves a zoning dispute. Mercator Manufacturing has bought property near downtown with the intention of constructing a regional distribution center. Unfortunately, certain rather reactionary individuals, most notably the Citizens Empowerment Union, have taken it into their heads that such a project would not be a desirable addition to the area. Never mind the jobs it would bring. Never mind the investment in surrounding neighborhoods….” “Never mind,” Benjamin interrupted, unable to hold his tongue any longer, “that the jobs would be non-union minimum wage, or that the people would be working for an international corporation with a history of closing shop when standards of living rise to a point where workers demand raises, then relocating to centers of cheap foreign labor.”

Despite Benjamin’s refusal, since the whole thing is just basically wage slavery, Owain blackmails him into agreeing since he knows about his relationship with the Prince’s wife Eleanor.

He loves Eleanor too deeply to harm her, but you…? I don’t think he would exercise such restraint in dealing with you.” 86 Gherbod Fleming A polite smile masked the venom of Owain’s words to any who might be watching. Owain stepped back. Benjamin could not hide his dismay, his shock, his fear. His every muscle was taut; his glasses slid down his nose again. “Now that I think of it,” Owain went on, “not only will Chamberlain uphold the rezoning, but the Georgia Supreme Court will refuse to hear the appeal.” He winked at the still speechless Benjamin. “I’ll be in touch.” Owain turned and left the side gallery laughing to himself at the expression on young Benjamin’s face. That should teach him some respect for his elders.

Yikes, Owain! But we knew that anyway,from when he killed his niece in las and her children. After being a really huge dick, Owain walks back to the main gallery and sees a wild scene unfolding.

Just as Owain entered the main gallery, a cacophony of gasps, exclamations, and laughter errupted. Owain saw why instantly. Atop “Benison’s Ride” perched Albert, the wiry, bearded Malkavian known to all Kindred in Atlanta. Completely naked. “On, Dasher! On, Dancer!” He rocked back and forth, in his own way reenacting the prince’s heroic ride as the massive metal sculpture wobbled precariously beneath him. Marlene, the self-proclaimed artist, had fainted dead away. The prince, doting over Aunt Bedelia at the other end of the gallery, his back turned, was quite oblivious to the evening’s second spectacle behind him. That was as much as Owain cared to see. He nonchalantly eased around the room—the oppo- The Devil's Advocate 87 site end from the prince—toward the elevator. Several Kindred were ordering Albert to dismount, but they were unwilling to risk breaking the sculpture by pulling him from his seat. As the elevator doors closed behind Owain, he could hear Albert singing, “Rollin’ rollin’ rollin, keep them dogs a-rollin’!” at the top of his lungs, the sculpted representation of the prince towering upward between his hairy legs like a giant scrap metal phallus. And then dead silence. Owain could picture the prince turning around. “Albert!”

#vampire the masquerade #The Trilogy of the Blood Curse #The Devil's Advocate #books #my reading blogging

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nothingbutfangirlsmut · 5 years

Text

The Girl Out of Time

Paring: Bucky x Reader & Sam x Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and some eventual smut once the story reaches that point.

Chapter 3

I had been given sleeping quarters in the avenger's tower. My room only two down from Steve. My first night here was certainly a rough one. I didn't sleep much. I had too many things on my mind. I kept thinking back to my family. What became of them? How did my sisters deal with the life I left them behind in? Our father was never the nicest person. He was very controlling and horribly cruel. Even though I wasn't the oldest but the middle child I would always take the place of my sisters when it came to my father's wrath. I could always handle it more than they could. It may have hurt like hell but they never deserved it so I made sure that I always did. What happened when I disappeared? How badly had father been to them?

"Ja- Jarvis" I whispered hesitantly.

"Yes, Miss Roffe" the voice said.

"Would you... I mean could..." I groaned in frustration.

I'm not even talking to a person! What am I doing?

"Miss Roffe?" The voice asked.

"I need to know what happened to my family." I said choking on a sob.

"Certainly"

The wall in front of me lit up a few seconds later to show a photo of each of my family members. I stepped closer just to look at them.

"Can I see Amelia please?" I asked.

The images on the wall changed. It was my older sister Amelia. She looked so different. So much older. The image changed to a newspaper article. The tears fell down my cheeks as I tried not to sob. It was her death.

"Amelia Daniels, born 1921, oldest of three children. She married Jacob Daniels in 1948. They had two children together. A boy named Christopher Daniels and a girl named Willow Daniels. She died of natural causes in 2003 at the age of 82." Jarvis spoke as I stared at the photos.

I wiped my tears away. At least she had a good life. At least it sounded like she did.

"Can you show me Grace?" I asked Jarvis.

The images on the wall changed to show my baby sister. She was only ten years old when I last saw her. The images slowly moved threw her life. Showing me how she had grown up.

"Grace Yorkshire, born 1936, youngest of three children. She married Lucas Yorkshire in 1960. They have three children together. Two boys, one named Gregory Yorkshire and the other named Lucas Yorkshire the second. One girl named Annabelle Yorkshire. She resides at 1416 Dane Court in Brooklyn, New York."

A wave of excitement ran threw me knowing my baby sister is still alive. I have to see her!

The next morning I was banging on Steve's door to wake him up but he didn't answer.

"What are you doing?" Natasha asked from behind me.

"I need to talk to Steve." I said quickly.

"He isn't here. He goes for a run every morning. Is everything alright?" She asked raising a brow at me.

"My sister, my baby sister Gracie is still alive. I need to see her."

Natasha seemed to perk up at my words. She smiled and gestured for me to follow her. We walked into what I assumed was Natasha's sleeping quarters.

"Here wear this" she said handing me some clothing.

I laid it on the bed to look at it. It was a shirt and pants. I've never wore anything like this. My father said either dress like a lady or be treated like a man. In other words, we were to dress very modestly because if we didn't he would beat us like we were men.

"Willow, it's alright no one is gonna say anything to you. Just trust me." She said with a smile.

I nodded as I undressed. Once I had the new clothes on I felt odd but good. It felt freeing.

"Do you know where your sister is?" Natasha asked as we walked down one of the halls.

"1416 Dane Court Brooklyn, New York. All those years and she still lives in Brooklyn." I couldn't help the smile on my face.

"Let's go find her then."

I followed her into the elevator then quickly out of the front door and into the crowded street. She stepped to the side of the side walk then whistled really loud as she waved. A cab pulled up in front of us a few seconds later. She opened the door gesturing for me to get in first. I felt like a kid again going somewhere I'd never been. It was always so exciting.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

"Oh, um 1416 Dane Court Brooklyn." I told him.

He nodded then pulled back into the traffic. I watched out the window as we drove threw the unfamiliar streets. I had known this area when I was younger. Steve and I use to go all over the place. Now it was like I'd never stepped a foot in New York before.

The cab pulled over in front of a row of houses. Natasha handed him some money then we got out of the cab. I was standing on the sidewalk outside of 1416 Dane Court. Gracie is right inside there. My heart was thumping savagely against my chest. What would I do? What would I say? Would she even remember me?

Natasha gently pushed me forward towards the house. I took hesitant steps thinking this over. Should I really do this? This could go really bad. Before I could turn around and run Natasha knocked on the door.

"Just a second" I heard a woman shout from inside.

The door opened and there stood a gray haired Grace Roffe or Yorkshire now. I felt the sob rip from my chest. My baby sister was older than me now. The woman looked terrified and frozen to the spot as she stared at me.

"I don't know if you remember me. You were only ten the last time I saw you." I said wiping the tears from my cheeks.

"Willow?" She questioned with a shaking voice.

"Yes, it's me" I nodded.

She seemed to snap out of a trance then gestured for us to come in. I walked inside followed by Natasha. We both sat on the couch as Grace sat on the table across from us.

"How is this even possible?" She asked in amazement.

"I honestly don't know. I don't understand what happened to me. One moment I'm walking home in 1946 then the next I'm waking up here in 2013."

I watched Grace wipe her cheeks as she smiled.

"It's an odd thing to see you like this after all these years. You haven't aged a day." Grace chuckled.

"You have no idea. Everything is different. Can you tell me anything? Do you know anything about what happened?" I asked her leaning forward.

She shook her head.

"I was just a kid. You know how adults were back then. The children never needed to know anything. The only thing I knew was that something happened to you. You disappeared and you were never coming home. I know a little about your friends though. They were both national heroes. There's even an exhibit in the museum about them." Her smile was warm.

"My friends? You mean Steve?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Yea, that little twiggy boy Steve Rogers and the other really pretty one James Barnes."

James Barnes? I don't know a James Barnes.

"Gracie, I know about Steve but who is James Barnes?" I asked curiously.

"What?" She asked in shock.

"How could you forget James Barnes? He was beautiful! You were always hanging on him. I always use to say you'd marry him one day but you always blushed and told me to shut up." She laughed at her memory.

"No" I shook my head.

"I never knew a James Barnes." I said sternly.

Grace's smile fell as she looked at my serious expression.

"Willow, I'd never lie to you and I swear I'm not a crazy old bat even though I do look like one." She chuckled.

"Hold on, I have an old photo that Amy gave to me a few years back." She mumbled as she got up and walked to the other side of the room.

She pulled open a few drawers looking for the photo. When she found it she shouted holding it up in the air. She came back to sit in front of Natasha and I once more. She held the picture against her chest.

"This was the original photo that was used in the first article about you missing. It was taken at the Stark Expo the day before James left for the army. You were so heart broken to have him leave. Here." She handed the photo to me.

I gently took it from her and flipped it over. There I was smiling but my eyes were puffy from crying. I hadn't noticed that detail before. I don't remember crying that night. Steve's tiny frame stood next to me with his arm over my shoulder as he smiled widely. On the other side of me was indeed an extremely handsome man. His arm looked like it was tightly around my waist like he was pulling me closer to him. His smile was large but he wasn't looking forward like Steve and I. He was looking down at me. Why can't I remember him?

I felt the tears on my cheeks again. I wiped them away quickly then handed the photo back to Grace. She shook her head and pushed my hand away.

"I don't know what happened to you Willow but I know how much both Steve and James meant to you. Keep it and try to recall some of those memories. I promise they were incredibly happy ones. Every time you were with James you were so happy."

Natasha and I thanked her. I hugged her tightly and promised to come back to visit. After that we went back to the tower.

---

Masterlist

#nothingbutfangirlsmut #the girl out of time #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #nick fury #tony stark #clint barton #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction

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