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kiritella · 3 years

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Stunt Double

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Words: 4.6 k

Request: (@tom-hlover) Bucky X non avenger shy reader where reader is a new lab assistant and was a stuntwoman before and never stated it in her resume and surprised the team when she got in action when they were attacked in the tower. For the reader, if possible, introvert, short hair, the type who does not initiate conversations with strangers but when needed can speak in front of people (for presentations) and when you get to know the reader, she is quite bubbly and is comfortable in being weird?

Warnings: mentions of blood, shooting, stabbing (nothing too graphic), attack, mentions of death. IT IS MOSTLY FLUFF!!!

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It was too quiet.

You cautiously stepped farther into the engineering lab as the unusual silence prolonged, “Tony?” No voice returned but your own as it echoed off the walls, but as you delved deeper into the room, the sight of Tony Stark hunched over his desk made you sigh a breath of relief. A snore broke the silence and Tony shuffled a little in his seat, but he remained lost to the conscious world. A soft smile coated your lips as you grabbed the blanket from off the back of one of the chairs and tossed it over his shoulders, allowing the man to get some severely needed sleep.

Tony had probably been in there the whole night, you presumed as you watched the morning routine of New York bustle in the streets below Stark Tower. The rising sun was casting a golden reflection on the newly snowed landscape, and the buildings were almost picturesque in the frozen atmosphere. Frost collected on the windows, and your breath fanned against the glass in a cloud, fogging up the image. With a sigh, you turned from the view, taking a sip of the hot coffee in your hands as you approached your workbench, setting your bag down beside your chair.

The computer system hummed to life as you switched on the device and soon a blue holosphere lit up around you, presenting a cascade of folders of your latest projects. Many of them had yet to reach completion, mostly just half-hearted specs when you were high on caffeine and sleep deprivation, but one day you would finish them. On your own time, most likely. Tony recently had you working on something of a bit more substance than what you usually do. There was something about this project that had you excited though. It was tiresome, and it had taken what seemed like an eternity, but it was nearly complete, and with it, it could change so much for the Avengers. It was exhilarating to have created something so powerful and meaningful, something that would have an impact. It was different from your last job, which didn’t give that spark of satisfaction when it was nearly complete. Working as an actor stunt-double had its admiration and qualities, but this, you felt, was where you belonged.

Opening the desk drawer, you pulled out a few bobby pins along with the holo-manipulator bracelets, and only after pinning your short hair back out of your eyes did you begin to work. Music played in your headphones as the morning grew later and within the hour, the lab doors opened once again to admit Bruce into the room. He chuckled as he passed Tony’s desk, the owner of whom was still sprawled out in a deep sleep, then nodded a good morning to you. With a soft smile, you whispered a cheerful good morning. It was still strange working with them, despite it having been several months now, and you weren’t sure if the high of being around them was going to leave any time soon. The high or the consequences.

Bruce was always kind enough, and Tony added a little personality to the lab, so it was never uninteresting, but there were also outside influences that made the job more difficult. Reporters, who you were always used to, shifted gears when you switched professions. Everyone wanted to know what the latest and greatest Stark technology was going to be, and people began to get more heated in their questions and methods. Things had gotten out of control more recently when the project you were currently working on got leaked to the public. It wasn’t the whole project, thankfully, however it was enough to cause some suspicion and enough eyes to turn in your direction that things began getting dangerous. Stark didn’t seem to mind too much until you were attacked getting into your apartment one night. After that, he became more cautious, offered for you to live in the Tower until the project was over and to help you find a new home after. Security was tightened, especially around the labs, and no one was allowed into the lower levels except authorized personnel. These were the things that came with the job, you supposed. Besides, it wasn’t like it was the worst thing in the world to be living in a multi-billion-dollar corporation in your own flat with a gym downstairs, completely free of rent, and with a five-minute journey to your workplace. Yeah, most certainly not the worst thing in the world.

---

You were about to resign yourself to a typical and uneventful lunch break consisting of eating at your work bench while pushing numbers for your project when Bucky barged in through the lab doors. His easy smile relaxed the tension in your posture and infected its way over to you.

“You look like shit,” Bucky said, tossing a bag of something smelling absolutely divine in front of you as he propped himself up on your desk, leaning over it with a teasing glimmer in his eyes. You laughed, a chuckle-snort sort of thing as you reclined back in your chair.

“Well, thank you. Should I take that as a complement?”

“No. You should take that as a ‘get the hell out of your office’,” he said, “And you’re in luck, because I brought lunch and we’re gonna eat it somewhere that is not here.”

You rolled your eyes, closing and locking up the holosphere and laptop. “Jerk.”

“Workaholic.”

“Workaholic,” you mocked in scrutiny, scrunching up your nose in defiance. “I am not a workaholic,” you pressed, snatching the food Bucky brought from off the desk as you followed him out the door. “I’ll have you know I slept five full hours last night.”

“Oh~~” Bucky teased with facade impressiveness, “Five whole hours. I slept nine.”

“Showoff.”

“Zombie.”

“I’m just so close to finishing the Achilles Heel project,” you said, laughing as you pressed for the elevator, scanning your ID on the screen. “Then I can sleep, and get my own place, and relax for a little while.”

“Oof, so ready to just escape this prison to be on your own huh?”

“Okay, maybe not too ready, I mean, there are some perks to being around more,” you said, nudging him in the side and he chuckled.

“Yeah, well I am decent company.”

“I was talking about the showers, but yeah, I guess you are a bonus too,” you teased, and Bucky gasped.

“Fine, I see how it is. I’ll just take this,” he said, grabbing the food bag from your hands as the elevator doors opened and he backed out onto the abandoned floor.

“Wait I—I didn’t mean that,” you said, jumping after him.

“Oh, no, I’m going to eat by myself now. Go on,” he said shewing you away as you came at him, trying to grab the food. “Go scurry back to your dreary little office and punch some numbers while stuffing your face with last night’s leftovers.”

“Bucky,” you whined through a laugh, “I’m sorry. You are most certainly a very big bonus to living at work.”

“Nope. You’re only here for the food,” he persisted, but his beaming smile broke through his act and held the food up above his head. You glared at him as you pushed closer to him, chests brushing up against each other as you reached up on your tippy toes trying to grab the bag.

“I. Am. Not.”

Bucky chuckled, wrapping his free arm around your waist as your balance began to waver, pulling you tighter against him as his lips brushed across your ear, “Really? Because it seems like that’s the only thing on your mind.”

Your body froze as you realized your proximity, his arm snug around your waist, his breath fanning against your ear and neck, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours. Slowly, your hand fell back down to his shoulder, fingers trailing to his chest as he angled up to meet your eyes. There was laughter in them, blissful freedom in the dip of his smile and damn, that was beautiful. To say you were in a romantic relationship would have been a slight misconception. The feelings were no secret, but you remained behind the line of friends, however as his eyes met yours, hardly a hair’s breadth apart, you began to wonder where that line was in all the haze.

“It’s not the only thing on my mind,” you whispered in a soft chuckle, a shy smile. Your heart flipped in your chest as his gaze flicked to your lips, hesitant and unsure, and heat tickled up your cheeks.

“Yeah? Had me fooled,” he said as he tilted closer, the brush of his nose along your cheek, and you remembered, friends don’t do this. But then again, when have either of you been wholy and truly just friends? His gravity pulled you in, the earth to his sun and a moth to his flame. It was a force of two strings being tied together, red scarlet between your chests, binding you to each other. It wound tighter as you sought each other, but as his lips barely brushed your own, Bucky’s phone blared in the empty hallway and the string snapped. Your eyes shot open as you both jerked in surprise, pulling back, but remaining frozen in time, staring, and searching. His gaze held an ounce of disappointment as he slowly released his grip around your waist. His eyes followed you even when you could no longer bear their intensity, the fire burning in them reaching out to consume you. Turning aside as he answered his phone, you grabbed the food from his hand, motioning to the office you usually ate in and he nodded.

When the door shut behind you, you gasped for breath to steady your raging, wild heart, steadying yourself onto the sheet-covered couch. A soft laugh bubbled from your chest as you replayed the moment over and over, your fingers pressed to your lips to conceal the smile breaking through, but it still insisted on being seen. As emotions swirled in you, you began to unload the bag Bucky brought, pulling out buckets of Chinese food and set them on the table.

“That was Sam,” Bucky started quietly as he entered the room. “He got a lead on the extremist group I was telling you about…”

You nodded, but when he didn’t move from his spot at the door, you rolled your eyes, waving him over to sit beside you. “Get over here so we can eat before it gets cold,” you said, a teasing glimmer in your tone, and a smile peaking on your lips. A sigh left him, relieving the pressure in his lungs no doubt as he came and sat beside you, picking up a box of orange chicken.

“What’s the lead?”

“Just an informant…It looks a little shady, but it’s all we’ve gotten in a while, so we don’t want to risk leaving it alone.”

“When are you heading out?”

“Tomorrow evening. Apparently, the guy doesn’t want to risk being seen in the daylight or in town, so he’s meeting us just outside the city after dark.”

“It certainly sounds weird,” you chuckled, but then silence overtook the room, creeping in from the cracks of unspoken words and pushing as the tension thickened. And when the pressure rose, it crushed your heart, and so you spoke, “Hey, Buck?” and still, you froze again, but he understood the question in the air, in your eyes that refused to meet his. Bucky’s fingers reached across the little space between you, taking your hand into his own and brought them to his lips, caressing them with a kiss.

A sigh escaped you as you relaxed. His hand released yours and wrapped around your shoulders, encouraging you to lean back into the couch and rest your head against him. As you fell into his embrace, the tension eased.

A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead before he spoke, “We both saw this coming for a while now…”

“Yeah, well…I guess we never really were just friends. There was always something else.”

Bucky snorted, “Like when you were drunk and told me one day you were going to jump my—”

You screeched, shoving your hand over his face, “Why did you bring that up?! You were not supposed to bring that up ever,” you shouted, slapping his chest as he laughed, “I finally burned that from my memory!”

“I didn’t realize you were such a lightweight,” he laughed.

“I don’t drink that often, so of course I’m a lightweight.”

Bucky could only shake his head, press a kiss to your temple, and pull you closer. “How about when I get back from the job, finish all the paperwork and shit, the next night I’ll take you out?” he mused, “A proper date, just the two of us—”

“I’d hope it’s just us,” you joked and he laughed, knocking you in the shoulder with his knuckles.

“Shhh, don’t interrupt, I’m trying to be sweet.”

“Oh okay, please continue…”

“Just the two of us somewhere nice, but not too quiet so we don’t get awkward, and we can talk about everything…”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, craning your chin up to meet his eyes and smiled.

~~~

There was something in the air the next evening. It was thick enough to choke you, and the shadows lingered on the walls a little too long only to be cast away sharply. The moon reflected off the pale white walls in the eerie silence and cast a frozen-like nature around the room. You should have gone up to your apartment hours ago, but with the inspiration and drive to finish your project, sleep evaded you. Besides, the coffee helped.

Music streamed from the speakers, but it wasn’t enough to drive out the anxiety welling in your stomach. Since the attack at your apartment, being alone had bothered you, left an uncomfortable feeling crawling on your skin and it didn’t seem to want to leave. Instead, the anxiety built up until you were jumping at every noise, every shift of the shadows in the room. Bucky’s presence or voice had always helped, but he was still out with Sam checking in on the extremist group informant.

When you first heard the popping, you were certain it was your mind playing tricks on you. It wasn’t until they got much louder did you pause the music.

“Tony?” You called out, “Bruce?” You thought they had gone home for the night. Pepper had dragged Tony out about two hours ago, and Bruce had dinner plans with Natasha so he left early to get ready. There shouldn’t have been anyone but the night shift there, but as a high pitch scream echoed and the laboratory's glass wall shattered, realization hit you ten fold. You hit the floor as you dropped, a scream dying on your lips as you scrambled to get under your desk. People marched into the room, several by the sound of the boots on the crushed glass.

“Secure,” a voice said, feminine and cold.

“Find Achilles Heel, then wipe the system. You’ve got six minutes before the security system comes back online.”

You shook under your desk, heart beating erratically, the holosphere containing your Achilles Heel program right above you, and if you could just—

A loud crash of tools had you jumping out of your skin and your head rammed into the top of your desk, and you froze just like the rest of the room. The silence echoed, and you swore your breathing was too loud, your heartbeat bouncing off the walls as loud as a train. A few words, then footsteps approached, glass crunching under their feet until their boots were directly in front of you. Your teeth dug into your lip as you fumbled the pocketknife from your pocket, only a second to spare as the person reached under the desk and seized your ankle. A sharp yank and you were pulled out with a scream, but the smirk on the woman’s face sunk as you barreled the knife into the back of her foot, straight for her Achilles tendon. As she began to drop, you twisted your hips, braced your leg up and kicked her throat. Not what you were aiming for, but that works.

She collapsed to the ground, choking and gasping for air, but more footsteps pounded toward you and when you looked out from the side of the desk, two men appeared and you were staring down the barrel of a gun. Instinct took over and you knocked the handgun from your face, grasping his wrist, spinning as you stood until his arm was twisted backward and using your back for the brace, rolled him over your shoulder. A distinct pop told of his displaced arm. Or a broken one, you weren’t sure.

A gun went off, and you jumped out of your skin as the breeze of the bullet swept across your cheek. Screeching as the soldier grabbed your arm, cursing an absurd vocabulary list at you, the palm of your hand shot to his nose, and to put it lightly, his list of obscenities increased dramatically.

“Son of a Bitch,” he shouted as blood trickled out of his broken nose, tears forming in the edges of his eyes as they began to water.

“So I’ve been told,” you said as you struck his throat and he began to choke, but as you delivered the final blow to a place the sun didn't shine very often, the cock of another gun set you frozen in place. Across the room, the last soldier stood with a semi-automatic, a bullet with your name ready in the chamber and your breathing stopped.

“We only came for your program, Y.n,” the man sneered, “But I’ve really got a mind to put you six feet under now.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that was peaking on your lips, though you couldn’t even begin to fathom its reason for existing. “What do you want it for?”

The man chuckled, “Who wouldn’t want a program that could tell them the weakness in any building? Given the right specifications of course.”

You shook your head, an idea sparked, but the warmth of the trails of blood on your fingers made you sick. The sound of the man’s shoulder popping out of place from earlier is ingrained in your ears. The feeling of crushing someone’s windpipe, breaking their nose is still searing your skin. It was agonizing.

“Where’s Achilles heel?” he asked, his patience for your antics ran out, and he raised his gun, aim centered on your chest. You turned back to your desk, your hands trembling as the little holosphere sat daintily there on the wood. Your projects, your life, everything you’ve worked for in the last several months. It held your secrets, your future, everything you were striving to create, all right there in that little damned box. Reaching for it, it was heavier than you remembered. You supposed it was the consequences that was weighing it down. Or maybe it was your life.

The woman from earlier was out cold on the floor, but her gun was still at her feet. As your breath shook, you gripped the sphere in your hands and turned back to the last man standing. You waved it in the air, and he laughed.

“Thank you. You’ve been of great service,” he said, lifting his gun and as he pulled the trigger, you dropped to the floor, hands scrambling for the woman’s gun and as the man cursed, he ran for you. The second he came into view, you fired. The jerk of the gun burned your wrists, and something snapped, but you shot again, and the look of pure surprise on his face was enough to make you puke. He fell to his knees and onto his side, blood seeping from his shoulder and stomach. Your hands trembled as you scampered back, bile on your tongue as you watched in horror.

The sound of your name died in the echo of the room, the panic in the voice, the rushing feet and the sound of glass being crushed. Everything faded out except for the man in front of you and the fear etching into his eyes. You were paralyzed to watch. When another hand gripped your shoulder from behind, you screamed, tossing your hands back and clawing and scratching at their face until both your arms were seized and you were forced to see your attacker.

Bucky sat there, his hands holding your arms as his eyes searched you wildly, and you stilled. Your breaths were ragged and sharp, but his cerulean blue eyes were much softer than you remembered, but that could have been the tears welling in the corners. His lips moved as he spoke, but no sounds hit your ears. Everything was drowned in a ringing ocean of nothing, but when he pulled you against his chest and lifted you up, faded whispers broke through.

“You’re gonna be okay...I’ve got you...It’s alright…” It was all chopped and scattered, but it was still his voice. It was James. The lights faded in and out as he carried you out of the room and down the hall. Your vision blurred, but even in your disorientation, you saw them. A night guard sat motionless on the floor, another further down, and eventually you couldn’t bear to watch and hid yourself in James's neck. The next thing you saw was the med bay as Bucky placed you on one of the beds and a doctor came rushing over. The look of pure fear in Bucky’s eyes as you remained motionless on the bed struck straight to your heart before everything went dark.

~~~

When you woke, Bucky sat on the edge of your hospital bed, your hand in his as he traced gentle patterns into your palm. “James?”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to yours, and a smile broke through, “Hey sleepy head. How’re you feeling?”

“A little weird, but okay,” you mumbled as you say up with Bucky’s help. It took a moment before everything came flooding back to you, and the blood drained from your face. “H-how long was I out?”

“Just a little less than an hour. The shock pulled you under,” he said. In a moment of silence, his fingers traced your cheek, curving along your skin until he cupped your face. His breath shook as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead, then another kiss to your temple, another to your cheek, and you leaned into his touch, your hands raising to hold his. Your wrist was bandaged with gauze, and it hurt to move, but still, you melted in his touch. His lips brushed against yours, tantalizing and soft, a peck, a promise, a future held with the love in his chest, shown with his lips upon yours. I love you. I'm glad you're safe. You scared me. I love you. Unspoken words were passed from his lips and seared onto yours with a single peck, and it made you realize just how infinite he was.

“When we got here and the lab was broken into, I —” he said, pressing his forehead to yours, but his voice cracked and you softened.

“I’m alright,” you whispered, “I think, anyway,” you added with a soft chuckle.

“Doctor gave you a clean bill of health for the most part,” he said, pulling back. “Fractured wrist, small cut on your cheek, a little bruising. Nothing too bad.”

You nodded, but a rock dropped in your stomach when you recalled the events. “The man I shot…” you whispered, “Is—is he…?”

“He’s alive,” Bucky said, a sneer in his voice as he held your hands, “They all are.”

You sighed in relief. A life on your head wasn’t a weight you were sure you could bear. However, as Bucky began to speak, the door opened and in came Tony, Bruce with Nat, and followed by Sam.

“Since when can you fight?” Tony asked, a light smile in his voice after he saw that you were okay. “I don’t remember martial arts being one of your talents,” he joked, holding a tablet with the camera footage of the lab.

You shrugged, a smile peaking on your lips, “I was an actress before I came here. Stunt-double for some action movies. I had some training.”

Sam perked up, “What?! An actress?”

You laughed at his confusion and awe, “Yes.”

“That was not on your resume,” Tony added.

“I wanted to be taken seriously!” you defended, “I figured it wasn’t important to add acting to a resume I was sending to Stark Industries.”

“Okay, fair, but look at this,” Tony said, holding the tablet for you and Bucky to see the video.

Bucky hesitated, turning it from you, “I don’t think that’s—”

“No, I wanna see, it’s alright,” you said, and Bucky played the video. It shocked you to watch it over again, the scene unfolding from a safe distance and with people you trusted. What took you by surprise though, was how the entire event unfolded in a matter of a few minutes. You were swift on camera, quick and unflinching, completely unlike what you felt in the moment. It had lasted an eternity then, fear capturing every muscle and resisting every movement.

“I mean look at that,” Tony praised as you took down the third guy. You pushed the tablet away before you got to the last part, and the others said nothing to oppose. The video was stopped and the others teased you.

“I thought you were just brains, but damn,” Sam said, “You’ve got tricks up your sleeves.”

“Didn’t feel like it in the moment,” you chuckled shyly, and Nat stepped up.

“It never does, not in situations like that. But running on pure instinct with what you knew, that was pretty awesome. We’re all just glad you’re okay though.”

You smiled and the others relaxed on their praise and asked for your condition. Bucky answered with ease as you relaxed back in your bed. The questions all seemed endless, but eventually, they all left to let you rest, and with a clear from the doctor, Bucky walked you back to your apartment upstairs.

“So, an actress, huh?” Bucky said and you laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, brushing your short hair in the mirror above your dresser as Bucky sat on your bed, watching from a distance. “I doubled down in homework while I went to college. It was an accident really. A promotion here, a YouTube video there, next thing you know I’ve got a call and I was on stage performing. I never quit school though.”

“You’re just one wild mystery,” he smiled and you walked over to the bed and sat beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Intriguing, I hope.”

“Always,” he said.

A heavy silence filled the room, and you sank further against him. His fingers brushed along your hand as he took it to rest on his thigh. “I’m gonna teach you some more offensive attacks though. I can’t...” he said and his breathing wavered slightly, “I can’t go through that again.”

You nodded, nuzzling his shoulder, sighing heavily. “Could you—could you stay with me tonight? It can be just until I fall asleep, but I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Promise?”

“Always.”

———————————

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sagamemes · 3 years

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the sheridan tapes 📼 part two. here and under the cut, you can find over 130 lines of dialogue from the horror podcast the sheridan tapes, specifically from episodes four to six, edited for roleplay purposes. some of these focus heavily on survival, war, science, and spooky stuff, but a lot can be used by anyone. tw: war, unreality, a mention of cannibalism, implications of manic behaviour.

❝ god, i hate snowstorms like this. not just getting caught in them, but the storms themselves. it feels like the earth’s trying to bury me alive every time it locks in like this. like nature’s rightly pissed off at all of us and doing its level best to crush us to death. ❞

❝ that’s what yom kippur means: the day of atonement. ❞

❝ that wasn’t the first time i’ve caught him in my office, going through my stuff. ❞

❝ normally i’d be annoyed at someone calling me young lady. ❞

❝ thank you… you are so warm… thank you for letting me in. ❞

❝ suddenly, everything fell into place. i made more progress than i had in about half a year. ❞

❝ the thing i remember most was catching disapproving glances from my father every time i went to the library. ❞

❝ why does time only run forward? why does cause need to precede effect? ❞

❝ no one knows if they can trust me with casework or not. ❞

❝ i didn’t say i was interested. ❞

❝ [he/i] was taken off duty and sent for psychiatric evaluation the next day. ❞

❝ coffee. i was making coffee. ❞

❝ i didn't mean to get stuck out here. ❞

❝ that just goes to show how small humans really are in the grand scheme of things: take away our tools and our toys and our technology, and we’re still just as vulnerable as we ever were. ❞

❝ she was good at that: making you feel like you were safe, like you could open up to her. ❞

❝ i’m just going to cover that one up. no harm in keeping it out of sight for the moment. ❞

❝ maybe there was someone in the stairs. ❞

❝ i think i did the lion’s share of the talking, which almost never happens. ❞

❝ i couldn’t get to sleep... i figured i’d get a head start today. ❞

❝ i’m afraid i don’t have all of the details of your involvement with the… tragic events in [place]. and i don’t think i’m the only one. ❞

❝ i’m still not sure i understand the whole tradition. ❞

❝ whatever it is, it’s chasing me. i can hear it’s footsteps in the snow, i can hear it— ❞

❝ when you work nights here, the less you really think about them, the better. ❞

❝ honestly, i just can’t get it out of my head. ❞

❝ snow is one of nature’s simplest and most effective ways of killing you dead if you aren’t prepared for it. ❞

❝ i wish you’d tell me what you’re doing here. i could lose my job if anything gets broken or if you end up getting hurt in there… ❞

❝ would you say you… considered her a friend? ❞

❝ would you mind saying your name again? for the recording? ❞

❝ if that was true, then there was something—and as a scientist, i hate to say this—supernatural going on in that lab. ❞

❝ most of them didn’t make it. a lot of them died afraid and alone, too. ❞

❝ i know you don’t like listening to these things, so i just wanted to help you out with… ❞

❝ if i could sleep, then trust me, i would. ❞

❝ i’m guessing the new owners are trying to make this place seem less creepy than it already is. ❞

❝ my schooling was expensive and unremarkable. ❞

❝ a lot of them died afraid and alone, too: ideal conditions for the making of poltergeists, in my experience. ❞

❝ look, i’m sorry, but this really isn’t a good time for anything, so if you wouldn’t mind… ❞

❝ basically, i was picturing a slightly creepier morticia addams. i couldn’t have been more wrong. ❞

❝ now i have to deal with [name]’s aspirations to write drama.. ❞

❝ i promise i won’t get you sacked. ❞

❝ i’ve never been very religious, but for some reason… it made me think of hell. ❞

❝ i think it may have been a thank you. ❞

❝ i’m working the graveyard shift and i noticed the lights were on. ❞

❝ i shouldn’t be here. no one asked me to come in this early. ❞

❝ everyone around here looks at me like i’m some kind of leper. ❞

❝ i had to go home for a few hours. i’m already on thin ice around here, and i didn’t want to get in more trouble for screaming obscenities up and down the wall. ❞

❝ it was… darkness. no, that doesn’t do it credit, the whole place was dark. this was just... void. ❞

❝ if i’d seen her anywhere else, i’d think she was an athlete or a backpacker. ❞

❝ better scientists than me have been bashing their heads into that particular wall since 1927. ❞

❝ i just want you to know that… whatever you really are... you’re safe here. ❞

❝ goats being goats, it would just come back the next day looking for food. ❞

❝ i would like you to leave my office now… and i’ll ask you not to tamper with evidence in the future, understood? ❞

❝ no, of course, i don’t have signal out here, so i can’t just call triple-a. ❞

❝ what are you doing in my office—at four goddamn thirty in the morning? ❞

❝ you ever wonder where the line is? you know, between human and not? ❞

❝ the funny thing i’ve noticed about war: no matter how terrible the fighting is, there always seems to be too much waiting. too much quiet. too much sitting around, bored to tears between fits of chaos and violence, lost in routine while waiting for the other shoe to drop. ❞

❝ a lot of people condemn them for that. we’re so sure we’d never resort to that—that we’d rather die than cross that unspoken boundary. ❞

❝ i’ve been at the [workplace/institution] for ten years now. that’s long enough to know that the ones who ask questions are the ones who can’t cut it. ❞

❝ the program blew every fuse in the lab. including the lights. ❞

❝ it was soon after they left that i began to have trouble sleeping. ❞

❝ perhaps we never knew each other as well as most friends do, but… we cared for one another. ❞

❝ most of her questions are a bit above my pay grade. ❞

❝ i’m trying, i’m trying! i can’t get the door open! ❞

❝ i don’t know why she needed my help: i think she had a better grasp of it than most science fiction writers. ❞

❝ we both had places to be afterwards, so we kind of rushed. i really wish i’d taken the time to say goodbye. ❞

❝ i guess some things just… don’t want to stay buried. ❞

❝ it was completely against orders of course, but no one really noticed or cared that far from the front. ❞

❝ i offered to buy him a cup of coffee. ❞

❝ newspapers praised them at the time: saw them as heroes of exploration and paragons of pioneer courage. ❞

❝ i signed a lot of big, scary nda’s during my time there. ❞

❝ i did the only thing that came to mind: i took a grenade from my belt, removed the pin, and threw it. ❞

❝ i doubt this storm will last more than a couple of days, and once it lets up we can sneak out of here and get going again. very, very carefully. ❞

❝ given enough time, everything will rot away to its elementary components, and that, you can’t reverse. ❞

❝ i really can’t see anything from inside the van. ❞

❝ i knew there were a few experiments that dealt with some pretty high-level theoretical concepts, but i wasn’t directly involved with any of them. ❞

❝ it’s a strange choice, but then again, he’s a strange man. ❞

❝ i know, it sounds ridiculous. trust me, i’ve done everything i can think of to make that conclusion go away. ❞

❝ scared the bejeezus out of a bunch of skiers, but they were nice enough to let me in after deciding i probably wasn’t a ghost. ❞

❝ please… it burns my skin… please… ❞

❝ i forgot how fast storms blow in up here. ❞

❝ it’s not like i felt out of control: it felt more natural than breathing. ❞

❝ i didn’t know what i was doing, not at any conscious level. but one step seemed to lead to another, then the next, and then the next. ❞

❝ it’s called a butcher’s shop in some places, but a mortuary in others. as much as i’d love to imply there was some sweeney todd style recycling going on here, i think the place has just been a lot of things over the years. ❞

❝ god, these things are creepy as hell. ❞

❝ if you wouldn’t mind, please, tell us what happened? in your own time, of course. ❞

❝ it took a few long, nerve-wracking days to work up my courage and visit the section again. ❞

❝ it’s not that odd to think that people ate each other out there. ❞

❝ i didn’t think there was a ghost in my room or anything like that, i just kept hearing noises whenever i was about to fall asleep. ❞

❝ i downed half a dozen energy drinks at 6 and called it dinner—i know, i know, it’s a nasty habit i picked up in grad school. ❞

❝ they told me that the cpu and motherboard had somehow been melted into a solid lump of plastic and silicon. ❞

❝ i mean, [name] was a pain in the ass, but at least he didn’t… ❞

❝ my schedule was full, but i had something else fall through at the last minute. i had your number on my desk, so i thought i may as well call. ❞

❝ i wonder if it was afraid, or if it even realized what was going to happen. it probably didn’t. ❞

❝ i need to get more coffee. or punch someone. whichever’s more convenient. ❞

❝ god, if that’s really how i sound… ❞

❝ people think i write horror, but i don’t really think that’s true. i just write fiction with all of the comfortable little lies taken out of it. ❞

❝ i have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night. ❞

❝ i think he felt something about this place… some influence or power that needed to be destroyed, so he tried to do it the only way he knew how. ❞

❝ well, it’s a tricky thing. the more realistic you make them, the more… unreal they start to look. i think it’s something about the eyes. ❞

❝ i offered to stay late, just to smooth things over. ❞

❝ maybe i can get some writing done while i’m stuck here… ❞

❝ no child could grow up in a jewish home surrounded by books and not read at least one story about golems. ❞

❝ i just wasn’t a good student, despite my love of reading. ❞

❝ i have to say, i like your jane doe. ❞

❝ she was a scientist herself. maybe not formally, but her way of thinking, her insight, her methods... they were scientist’s qualities. ❞

❝ seriously, what do i need to do to get a little privacy around here, a little dignity? hang a ‘ do not disturb ’ sign on the door? change all my locks? ❞

❝ maybe it was stupid, but i figured, ‘ hey, early december, not a cloud in the sky—should still be fine, right? ’ ❞

❝ jesus, [name], i wasn’t born yesterday. ❞

❝ maybe doing this while it’s still dark outside isn’t the best idea. ❞

❝ more than a century and a half have passed, and this place is still just as dangerous as it was then. ❞

❝ now, [mr./ms./mx. name], i’m sure you know why you’re here. ❞

❝ the [event] was a bust—only about a dozen people showed up all afternoon. ❞

❝ i never put much stock in the idea of inspiration, but for the first time in my life, it felt like i wasn’t pushing myself through the muck of miscalculation and guesswork towards a solution. i was being pulled towards an answer that already existed. ❞

❝ it felt like i was a few steps from finding out something fundamental. some truth about our universe that no other scientist had ever dared to dream of. ❞

❝ huh. that’s… that’s weird. i could’ve sworn there wasn’t a sculpture back there before. ❞

❝ apparently, no one had told them what i was doing, and i wasn’t actually cleared to leave. ❞

❝ maybe he’s trying to make amends. keeping watch over these half-living things to make sure no harm comes to them. ❞

❝ i expected the building to be wreathed in shadow and overgrown with cobwebs, but it's actually really nice. ❞

❝ sorry, i was trying to get my recorder working, but it froze up on me so i had to find a tape for this old… ❞

❝ okay. just… don’t get me sacked, alright? can’t exactly retire on this salary. ❞

❝ but if it was real—i don’t know if i somehow created it, or if it was feeding me information about itself before it appeared. ❞

❝ i’ve never had a manic episode before, and i was well below the level of caffeine needed to cause intoxication. as far as i can tell, there isn’t a medical explanation for what happened. ❞

❝ i don’t get the appeal of meeting real celebrities. it’s just a cheap shock of recognition, and nothing more. ❞

❝ whatever this… thing was, it sounds pretty dangerous. ❞

❝ are you familiar with temporal asymmetry? ❞

❝ i just want to make that abundantly clear: this /wasn’t/ the plan. ❞

❝ right then, now let’s get started. please state your name and rank for the record. ❞

❝ though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light. ❞

❝ a cracker of a book, young lady. ❞

❝ no wonder they’re keeping them in storage. they’d give anyone nightmares. ❞

❝ i was just going to finish out my shift unless… you want me to stick around? ❞

❝ i went to the university, but don’t remember much of the years i spent there. ❞

❝ having to study textbooks and essays day in and day out took all of the joy out of reading for a long time. ❞

❝ we call paradoxes paradoxes for a reason: no matter how plausible they seem, they can never really happen. ❞

❝ i don’t know what happened to me that night. i still don’t even know if what i saw was real. ❞

❝ when we look into the void for too long, we find the monsters instead. ❞

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp meme #* sentences.#* meme.#sheridan #trying some minor new things w/ the formatting #especially for these longer #non numbered sentence memes

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pines-troz · 3 years

Text

Weekend With The Warners: Chapter Nine

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 13,643

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/79879516

Inside the cab, the Warners were gathered in the back seat of the vehicle, anxious to reach Acme Labs. Wakko was overwhelmed with guilt for not saving Pinky and Brain from their lab coat-wearing captors. They buried their face into Yakko’s chest while the eldest Warner did his best to soothe the middle child’s woes.

“It’s all my fault,” Wakko whimpered.

“Shhh, don’t be so hard on yourself Wakko,” Yakko gently reassured, pulling his younger sib closer to his side. “You did what you could.”

“But now they’re probably going through some terrible experiments.” Wakko lamented.

“They won’t be, at least not for long,” Yakko said determinedly. “We’ll bust ‘em outta there and give those scientists a taste of their own…”

Dot overheard her older siblings’ exchange while conducting some research on her smartphone. The Warner sister looked up Acme Labs on various websites and was surprised to learn about the company’s terrible reputation on many levels. Unethical animal testing and workplace complaints surrounding sexual harassment.

She knew that Acme Labs must have been bad enough for Animaniacs to poke fun at them with the Pinky and The Brain segments, but never to such a heinous degree.

The cab turned a corner and reached a foreboding facility that stood underneath the suspension bridge and close to the city skyscrapers. Yakko took his debit card from his hammerspace and swiped it through the machine, paying a cab fare of $12.95.

“Thanks for the ride, pal.” Yakko quietly told the cabbie as he exited the vehicle. Wakko and Dot also thanked the driver as they followed their older brother out of the van.

The driver gave them a wary look as the siblings walked away, wondering what three toon children would want to do in a laboratory on the rough side of town. Once the siblings entered the front gates of Acme Labs, the vehicle zoomed off, leaving a cloud of exhaust behind as he drove away.

The siblings stared at the company’s new logo, a blue sign with orange lettering. The company adapted with the times in regards to giving itself a minimalist makeover as opposed to the flashing red lights or the bold green-yellow neon lights from the 90s. But the trendy, consumer-friendly glow-up did little to conceal the company’s dark and hideous nature when it came to animal cruelty. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot stood close to each other as they faced the foreboding laboratory that contained their new special friends.

Acting as the ringleader of the group, Yakko alerted his younger siblings as he clapped his hands together. “Alright, sibs, our family is in danger and it’s up to us to rescue them.”

Wakko nodded in agreement as a grim frown crossed his face. “Right. Then let’s give those scientists hell,” he darkly muttered as he took out an unusually large wooden mallet from his hammerspace intending to clobber any white coat he came across.

But before Wakko could make their vicious rampage, Yakko put his index finger on their red cap, stopping the middle child in their tracks. “I admire your valiant and unwavering spirit, Wakko, but we can’t just go in guns a-blazin'.”

“Yeah, we need to develop a game plan to outsmart those scientists,” Dot interjected. “And I believe I came up with a foolproof strategy to trick those whitecoats and liberate Pinky, Brain, and all the other animals imprisoned in the lab.”

Yakko perked up his ears. “Ooh, so what do you have in mind, sis?”

Dot motioned for her older siblings to come closer. Yakko and Wakko were eager to hear what their baby sister had planned and immediately ran to her side. The siblings formed a group huddle and Dot whispered her plan with hushed excitement.

- - - - - -

Inside the other testing room, Pinky sat on the exercise wheel with his limbs sprawled out while holding a half-eaten food pellet. The mouse wistfully observed the green cage. Everything looked the same. The green bars, the straw floor, an exercise wheel, a full water bottle, and a food pellet dispenser. The only thing missing was Brain.

Pinky felt all achy and gooey and Garfunkley without the love of his life. He began to pull on the metal tag that tightened around his right ear. He figured that the scientists tried to give him some free jewelry as compensation for participating in the separation experiment. While a nice gesture, nice shiny objects couldn’t replace the warmth and comforting companionship of his partner. But he had to be strong for Brain. A month without his beau would be difficult, but he needed to gather all of his strength to persevere. So he decided to lift his spirits by singing the one song he believed could solve all his problems.

“Just say narf! Just say narf!” Pinky sang boisterously. The mouse waved his feet to the beat of the song, hoping to feel its cheerful energy. “Don’t you know to be glad, just say narf!”

But as he sang, the somber ambiance of the room remained unchanged. The scientists surrounding his cage merely scribbled on their notepads, ignoring the mouse’s tune. Pinky’s spirits dwindled as he sang the next verse. “Every day is a joy and so marvelous.” But his hopeful optimism was snuffed out like a candle. “Don’t you ruin it with plenty of fuss.” His enthusiasm was diminished into tiredness as he finished the verse.

“Just say zort, just say- Poit! Oh, what’s the point?” The downtrodden mouse drearily declared. Pinky took another bite of his food pellet and sighed. He’d tried to sing the one song he used to cheer up Brain, only to find that it wasn’t working its usual magic.

As he swallowed the chewed-up food pellet, he took another glance at the big chunk of swiss cheese that stood in the middle of the cage. While he initially took a few bites of the cheese after the scientists placed the plate down, he couldn’t bring himself to finish it. He had lost his ability to taste cheese after numerous experiments the scientists put him through as a young mouse. Though he secretly envied Brain for having his taste buds intact, he loved hearing him describe the different tastes of various cheeses. But Pinky was content with the food pellets that the scientists provided. They reminded him of his home life with Brain, and any positive reminder of Brain was good enough for him. Though the food pellets would be more satisfying if he had some three-in-one oil to sautee them with.

Pinky let out another woeful sigh. Perhaps he should try to sing again at night after the scientists left. He could belt out ‘Somewhere, Out There’ to the pale moonlight and pray that Brain would sing the accompanying verses from the other room; Maybe then, Pinky would feel less alone.

Meanwhile, in the other testing room, Brain curled himself into a fetal position facing the glass wall. The mouse stared at his pitiful reflection: his floppy ears flattened against his bulbous head, the grey bags underneath his eyes, and the small amount of snot that oozed from his twinkling red nose. Brain kept all of his focus on his hideous appearance and away from the small cheese platter that stood in the center of the cage. The melancholic mouse let out a ragged sigh. He needed to be strong for Pinky. But he could only hope that the inane experiments the scientists had in store for him were manageable at least.

It was then that the faint sound of crinkling static reached his ears. Brain furrowed his brow in confusion and turned his attention toward the intercom stereo perched above the doorway.

“Helloooo, scientists!” a fast-talking young voice exuberantly announced.

Brain slowly propped himself up from his position by the side of his cage when he heard Yakko Warner’s enthusiastic voice. Could it truly be him? Or maybe this was just a hallucination cruelly reminding him of what he once had. But the sight of the scientists turning their attention towards the intercom was proof enough that this was very much happening.

“So the CEO of Acme sent me and two other unpaid interns down to congratulate you all on the tremendous work you’ve accomplished so far this year,” Yakko announced. “And as a reward for all of your hard work, he’s holding a surprise party, where you’ll each be receiving a bonus check of five thousand dollars!”

The scientists gaggled excitedly amongst themselves. Brain raised his brow upwards at the sight of the white coats getting ecstatic over the news.

In the other room, Pinky sat up straight on the exercise wheel upon hearing Yakko talking through the intercom. The mouse grinned from ear to ear.

“Egad, Yakko is here! And that must mean that Wakko and Dot are somewhere in the lab as well!” Pinky happily thought as he tugged his feet and eagerly rocked himself back and forth. “Troz! Oh, I knew those little sweethearts would come to our rescue!”

“But that’s not all, folks,” Yakko added eagerly. “We’re closing up shop early to hold a special party for all you special scientists!” The teen’s voice dripped with venom at the word ‘special’. “There’ll be a buffet table, party games, music, and a ball pit! So everyone come on down to the garage right away to receive your bonuses and we’ll get this party started!”

The scientists dropped their notepads and cheered. Brain watched the scientists rushing through the door, no doubt stampeding down the hall to receive their coveted prizes. The short mouse glanced around the empty room and allowed a devious grin to cross his face. Those moronic scientists had bought every lie Yakko fed them. Hook, line, and sinker.

In the other room, Pinky grinned as the scientists fled the room. The mouse merrily hopped around the room, dancing for joy. The kids were going to rescue him and Brain and they’d all be reunited once more!

Back at the office, Yakko, who now donned a white lab coat and floral button-up shirt in addition to his regular attire, turned off the intercom button and leaned back in the office chair. The teen merrily spun around in his wheelie chair. Everything was going according to plan!

Yakko then hopped off the chair, opened up the window, and dove to the ground, secretly thankful he was only on the first floor. The teen took out a lab coat from his hammerspace, hastily putting it on as he ran around the building.

Once he reached the garage, he found a large white truck sitting by the open door. Yakko walked around the vehicle and noticed Wakko’s other self, the one he met during that fateful trip to Paris, happily humming in the driver’s seat. The other Wakko greeted Yakko with a friendly wave, and Yakko happily waved back before sprinting through the open door.

Wakko and Dot, who also donned lab coats, waited patiently in other parts of the garage. Dot settled inside the ball pit while Wakko sat on one of the ceiling lamps. Yakko joined his younger sister in the ball pit. The siblings looked over to Wakko, who eagerly gave a thumbs up. Yakko and Dot smiled mischievously as they dove into the ball pit.

Seconds later, the scientists clamored in the room all at once, eager to receive their checks. But all they saw was a few tables filled with various bags of chips and a pitiful-looking kiddie pool filled with colorful balls. They all looked at each other in confusion, murmuring about the poorly prepared party.

Acting quickly, Wakko descended the ceiling and landed on their feet. The middle Warner sibling slammed the door shut and proceeded to board up the door with wooden boards and nails. Satisfied with their handiwork, Wakko turned around and flashed a sinister grin at the scientists. Wakko then reached into their hammerspace and pulled out a comically large roll of packaging tape and immediately wrapped up five of the scientists in tape.

“Dear Lord, one of our failed experiments has come back for revenge!” A middle-aged scientist shrieked in terror. The other scientists screamed as they backed away from the unusual creature of indeterminate species.

On cue, Yakko and Dot emerged from the ball pit with gift wrapping and packaging materials at their disposal. The Warner brother bounced near one scientist and imprisoned him with gift wrapping paper. Satisfied with his handiwork, he proceeded to tie up the next ten scientists with the same method of capture. The Warner sister noticed the nine scientists trying in vain to make their escape through the garage door and immediately pounced on them. She enveloped them into a giant dust cloud as she secured them with wrapping paper. Once the dust cleared, Dot happily clapped her hands as the scientists struggled to release themselves.

Wakko hopped over to the back of the truck and pulled up the door. Yakko and Dot wheeled the hapless scientists into the truck on box carriers. The siblings gave each scientist a comical smooch before dumping them into their vehicular cage.

The siblings hopped out from the truck. Yakko quickly did a headcount of all of the scientists as he ignored their cries for help.

“Well I think everyone is accounted for!” the eldest Warner declared.

However, the sudden sound of a door falling to the ground reached their ears. The toon siblings turned around to see three security guards gawking at the sight.

“Well, almost everyone is accounted for,” Yakko remarked.

He looked to his younger siblings, each of them sharing diabolical grins, before lunging at the guards and enveloping them in a messy dust cloud. Once the cloud dispersed, the guards were tightly wrapped in wrapping paper and decorated with tape-on ribbons.

Dot sprinted towards the back of the truck as Yakko and Wakko heaved up one of the guards to throw to their sister. The older Warners tossed the first guard over to Dot, who caught him with relative ease. She gave him a smooch on the cheek before tossing him into the truck. The siblings repeated the process with the other two security guards. Once their adversaries were all piled in the truck, Dot flashed them a feigned friendly smile.

Yakko hopped over towards the back of the truck, reached up the handle, and slammed the door shut. He clapped the dust from his hands and happily gazed at his siblings. “Well, phase one went down much easier than I expected.” He declared as he pulled Wakko and Dot into a tight hug. “Great job sibs!” Dot happily nuzzled her brother’s cheek while Wakko happily wagged their tail upon receiving the compliment.

The other Wakko put their head out through the window and grinned at the Warners.

“Thanks for all the help, Other Me!” Wakko shouted with a smile.

“Anytime, pal!” The Other Wakko replied with a thumbs up. “Next stop: Denver, Colorado!” He returned to the driver’s seat and eagerly turned on the ignition. The truck drove through the garage door, sped out of the lab, and zoomed through the street.

The Warners waved as the truck drove off into the distance. With the first phase of the rescue mission complete, the siblings took off their lab coats and tossed them to the side. They clapped the dust off their gloved hands when a recording of ‘The Senses Song’ reached their ears. At that moment, Yakko recognized his cellphone ringtone. “I’ll get it!” He announced as he fished the phone from his pocket and answered the call. “Yello!”

“Hey Yakko,” The voice of a young adult male answered. “It’s me, Skippy!”

“Skippy is that you!?” Yakko exclaimed in shock at hearing an older Skippy Squirrel. “You sound way older since the last time we spoke!”

Wakko and Dot looked at each other with curious glances. The younger Warners pressed their heads against their older brother to get a better listen. Yakko didn’t mind the invasion of personal space as he listened to Skippy.

“Yep, that’s one of the many wonders of puberty.” The squirrel responded in jest. “Listen, I’m sorry for not answering your call earlier. I was out running some errands and Aunt Slappy got into a little scuffle over at the bingo hall.”

“It’s all good,” Yakko casually replied with a wave of his hand.

“So what’s up?” Skippy asked.

“My sibs and I are in a bit of a pickle.” Yakko began, sounding a bit more serious. “Pinky and Brain have been held captive in Acme Labs. We managed to take care of our special friends in lab coats and blue uniforms without any problems, but we need some backup for the next phase of our plan.”

“Go on,” Skippy replied, who was intrigued by the whole situation.

“We’re rescuing Pinky, Brain, and every single laboratory animal and we need you and Slappy to blow up the lab to Kingdom Come!”

Skippy chuckled excitedly. “Oh, Aunt Slappy is gonna love this!”

“Love what?” The elderly squirrel called out in a cranky voice.

Skippy placed a hand over his smartphone and turned toward his geriatric aunt. “The Warners are rescuing Pinky, Brain, and all the other lab animals from Acme Labs and they want us to blow the place up.”

Slappy’s eyes widened with excitement and she deviously rubbed her hands together. “Looks like Happy Hour has arrived early!”

Skippy smiled at his aunt before resuming his phone call with Yakko. “Okay, my aunt’s onboard!”

The Warners hopped up and down in jubilation upon the news of allies accepting their role in the plan.

“So I’ll swing by Acme Labs in my truck and help you and the mice load up the other lab animals,” Skippy explained. “And once we leave, I’ll give Slappy the signal to launch a large-scale assault on the lab.”

“Sounds great!” Yakko affirmed.

“Cool! I’ll arrive at the lab in ten minutes!” Skippy declared.

“See you then!” Yakko said as he hung up his smartphone. He promptly focused his attention on his younger siblings. “Alright sibs, now we’ve got to move fast.” He commanded.

“Right!” Wakko and Dot chorused.

Wanting to put their Great Dane genes to good use, Wakko immediately got down on all fours and sprinted towards the broken-down door. Once he reached the hallway, he sniffed the air for any clues of the mice’s whereabouts.

The middle sibling galloped down the hall until they found a door marking Pinky’s scent, which was a mix of cheesecake and perfume. Wakko pressed their face upon the glass, with Yakko and Dot mimicking their sibling’s actions. The trio saw Pinky, who wore a metal tag on his right ear, prancing about inside a green cage, which sat in the middle of the room.

Relieved that Pinky was safe, Wakko removed their face from the glass. “I’m gonna go find Dadoo and redeem myself while you two will go rescue dad and the rest of the animals!”

Yakko and Dot looked back at their sibling and gave them a hearty salute. “You can count on us, baby sib!” Yakko cheered.

“We believe in you, Wakko!” Dot confidently added.

Grateful for their siblings’ compassion, Wakko nodded back before scampering down the hall on all fours.

Yakko opened up the door, allowing Dot to walk in first. The siblings sprinted down the room, eager to reunite with the lanky mouse.

“Pinky!!!” They exclaimed in unison.

The buck-toothed mouse perked his ears at the youthful calls and was overcome with relief.

“Yakko! Dot!” Pinky exclaimed. Tears began to emerge at the sight of the eldest and youngest Warner siblings.

Yakko opened up the door and immediately scooped Pinky out of the green cage. The lanky mouse embraced the teen’s thumb as tears of joy began to pour down his face. The teen used his left pointer finger to gently stroke Pinky’s back.

“Oh, thank heavens you came!” Pinky cried, relishing the warm sensation of gloved hands. “Where’s Wakko?”

“They’re off saving Brain,” Yakko answered, giving Pinky a much-needed head scritch.

Pinky’s eyes glistened with joy. “Oh goody! Zort! We’re finally safe, and it’s all thanks to your clever idea of tricking all those scientists.”

Yakko chuckled at the mouse’s compliment. “That’s sweet Pinky, but I can’t take all the credit because my baby sister was the one who came up with that brilliant diversion!”

Dot smugly nodded her head, taking in the compliments her older brother showered onto her.

Pinky turned his attention towards the Warner sister with warm blue eyes. “You did all that?” He asked in an astonished tone.

Upon hearing the gentle cockney accent, Dot’s pride melted into humbleness. Pinky possessed an aura of kindness, which was stored in those gleaming cerulean eyes. Much like Dot’s cuteness had a powerful effect on others, Pinky’s gentle spirit seemed to have a similar effect.

The Warner sister could only respond with a barely audible “Uh-huh.”

“Oh, my smart little angel! I am so proud of you and I bet Brain would be too!” Pinky exclaimed as he opened up his hands, wanting to hold his surrogate daughter.

Dot noticed the mouse’s physical pleas and gently took him in her hands. She held Pinky close to her cheek.

“Oh, I missed you so much, sweetie!” Pinky declared as he nuzzled his cheek against hers.

Dot allowed the tears that welled up in her eyes to fall. She wanted to hold Pinky close and never let him go again. “I missed you too, Dad.” She sniffled.

Yakko smiled sweetly at the joyful reunion. He took a step backward to let his sister have her moment with the mouse.

Pinky opened his eyes and noticed that Yakko was a little further back than he was before. He looked back at the eldest Warner and gestured for him to join them. Taking this cue, Yakko closed the gap as he wrapped his arms around his younger sister. He felt his sister’s arms embracing him, as well as a small paw gently patting his shoulder.

He could get used to this.

- - - - - -

Meanwhile, Wakko sniffed around the checkered tiled floors of the hallway until he caught a familiar scent. A combination of lab chemicals, chumsicles, and a hint of cologne that could be purchased at the mall. Standing back up on his feet, the middle Warner sibling opened up the door and entered inside.

After Wakko walked into the room, he slammed the door shut. The sudden sound alerted a short mouse with an unusually large cranium, who had been pacing around the glass cage he was placed in.

Wakko stopped in their tracks as he was overcome with guilt once more. Had they intervened in time, Dadoo and Dad would not have been captured.

Brain stared at the middle child with shocked eyes. He tried in vain to cover the metal tag on his ear with his paw. Part of him felt ashamed of being seen as a lab animal as opposed to an ambitious and determined mouse bent on world domination. But the relief of seeing one of the Warners again overpowered his insecurities surrounding his image.

“Wakko?” The mouse quietly inquired.

“Dadoo!” The middle child called out. Blinking away the tears that started to form, they sprinted towards the cage to rescue their surrogate father.

Overcome with relief, Brain’s ears perked up upon hearing his voice. The mouse turned around and saw the middle child. “Wakko!”

Wakko lifted the lid off of the cage and scooped their hands to retrieve Brain, but his vision became blurred by the tears that stung their eyes. The sight of the toon crying greatly concerned the mouse.

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” Brain inquired cautiously.

“I-It’s my fault that you and Pinky got caught!” Wakko sniffled.

Brain’s eyes widened with confusion. “Wakko?”

“I should have saved you two when I had the chance, then you wouldn’t be stuck here” The middle child cried. “You must hate me…”

The mouse felt a pang of sympathy in his heart for the poor toon. Wakko must have been worried sick about losing him and Pinky. Brain wondered if his parents felt those same emotions as they watched the Acme scientists steal their only child before their very eyes.

During the first few months during his initial captivity at Acme Labs, a young and naive Brain always pondered if his parents thought about him. The mouse often wished his parents would swoop in and rescue him from his cold steel cage and bring him back to the warmth of the tin-can he once called home. But as the days passed, he accepted the stark conclusion that two simple field mice could not stand a chance against the cold-hearted scientists employed by a decently-funded corporate scientific research facility.

As Brain stared at Wakko, he realized that they, along with their siblings, were toons birthed into the world by pencil and paper to be harbingers of chaos. The children were, by design, zany to the max, and were powerful enough to take over the world if they so desired. However, they used their toon powers for good by liberating him and Pinky from the clutches of unethical animal testing. Brain commended Wakko and their siblings for going the distance to rescue him and Pinky. But he could not stand to see Wakko harbor such self-loathing despite their remarkable heroism.

Brain carefully grabbed Wakko’s right thumb and began to caress it in a soothing motion. “Now that’s just preposterous. I could never hate you, Wakko.” He comforted the middle child as best as he could. Emotions were more Pinky’s strong suit, but Brain was going to try his hardest to alleviate Wakko’s woes. “When Pinky and I arrived at the lab, I feared that you and your siblings wouldn’t come for us. Fortunately, you proved me wrong. You and your siblings have saved us, and you have my eternal gratitude.”

Wakko wiped away the tears from their face as they listened to Brain. The mouse did not hate them at all. The mouse loved them a whole lot! Overwhelmed with relief, Wakko gave Brain a great big kiss on his cranium and proceeded to nuzzle their forehead against their Dadoo’s. After processing the loving gesture, Brain carefully wrapped his arms across Wakko’s forehead. He planted a gentle kiss to reassure Wakko that he was grateful for their presence.

After a few moments, they pulled away from the embrace. Wakko looked at the cage and immediately spotted the big slice of swiss cheese. “I didn’t know they had snacks in the lab!” The toon exclaimed as they were about to take the sumptuous cheese.

“Wakko, NO!” Brain shouted instinctively, but the middle Warner sibling easily retrieved the cheese off of the plate. The mouse stood with his mouse gaping. Wakko did not receive any electrical shocks or any other negative reactions. They got what they wanted without any issue.

Wakko was about to eat the slice of cheese when he noticed the distressed expression on Brain’s face. “What’s wrong, Dadoo?”

“What was wrong?” Brain thought to himself. A wave of unpleasant memories flashed through his mind. He could practically feel the electrical shocks from the stunning plate course through his body once more. He instinctively stepped away, clutching his chest with his hand. How could he possibly recount the painful and traumatic memories to this wide-eyed innocent?

Wakko tilted their head to the side, watching Brain step backward with concern. Perhaps Brain was hungry! They didn’t have much time to eat after brunch and Brain looked like he could use a nice snack. So the middle Warner sibling concluded that their Dadoo needed to have some nourishment.

Wakko broke the cheese in half and placed the bigger portion in his right hand. “Here Dadoo, have some cheese!” The toon kindly offered. “After all, sharing is caring.”

Brain stared slack-jawed at the middle child. The mouse stared at the sumptuous cheese that sat on a gloved hand as he felt a war waging inside him. One side yelled at him to back away. The cheese only represented the inevitable pain that would come from pursuing his desires. But upon looking at the soft white glove underneath the cheese, the other side of him gently reminded him of his loved ones and the bonds he forged with them. Brain recounted all of the pleasant memories he and Pinky made with the Warners in the span of one weekend. All of the fun shenanigans by the poolside, singing karaoke, telling stories before bedtime, and playing in the park. Then there were the moments that brought about his parental instincts. Standing up for the Warners when he confronted the gang of hooligans, caring for Dot when she was sick, taking Wakko back to the library so they could retrieve their precious drawing and the down-to-earth conversation with Yakko.

Brain knew that the Warners, while zany and chaotic beings, were good kids at heart and that they would never maliciously go after anyone they cared about. He looked at the cheese in Wakko’s hand and back at Wakko, who gently smiled at him. Brain realized that the child meant no harm and only wanted to help him.

Gulping down his fears, Brain decided to take a leap of faith and go for the cheese. With trembling hands, he cautiously reached out and touched it and felt nothing. No painful electric shocks, no sense of helplessness. Just the soft texture of the cheese.

Brain carefully took his cheese into his paws. Just as he looked up at Wakko, he saw that the toon was about to swallow their portion of the cheese. The mouse widened his eyes in horror as a terrible thought popped up. The scientists wouldn’t provide food during an experiment out of kindness. There had to be some nefarious purpose involved.

“Wakko, wait!” He commanded.

Upon hearing the anxious voice, Wakko looked back at Brian with concern.

“I-I need to make certain that the cheese isn’t laced with any toxic substances.” Brain stammered.

Inspecting the cheese in his hands, Brain sniffed it only to be reminded of its alluring aroma. He then decided to take the next step and perform a taste test. Taking out a small piece of cheese, Brain licked the piece, expecting anything other than the delectable Swiss cheese racing through his taste buds. Noting that the cheese was safe, he consumed the small piece. With each chew, the mouse slowly noticed the tears pooling in his eyes. Brain blinked away the tears, allowing them to stream down his furred cheeks. He stared at the other piece of cheese in his hand, deep in his ponderings. He wished that he could have allowed himself to let his guard down much sooner. But the relief of learning he could place his trust in his loved ones outweighed his regret. Feeling a great sense of peace, Brain gladly consumed the rest of the cheese without a hint of hesitation.

Wakko worriedly stared at Brain, wondering why he was crying over a piece of cheese. The more the middle child thought, the more they realized that maybe the cheese symbolized Pinky.

After all, they were mice and mice did love cheese! But hold on...Did that mean Brain was sad that he ate Pinky? Or did he just simply miss Pinky’s presence? Oh, man. Metaphors were so confusing!

Wakko gently scooped Brain up into their gloved hands and tried their best to comfort the downtrodden mouse. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back with Pinky in no time!”

Brain stared up at Wakko as they wiped away the stray tears with their right thumb. He knew that the toon child was blissfully unaware of his past trauma concerning his broken trust issues that stemmed from unethical animal testing and how it tied in with the cheese. Perhaps he would inform him when he was ready and willing. But for now, he relished the warm and comforting hold of Wakko’s hands.

“Thank you, dear Wakko,” Brain gently told his surrogate child. “For everything.”

Wakko smiled back at their father figure. “You’re welcome, Dadoo.” They soon remembered the other part of the rescue mission. “Oh! And Yakko told me that we should also free all the other rodents while we’re still here.” Wakko informed the mouse.

Brain smiled. “I admire your unorthodox approach to animal activism.” After a moment of pondering, he needed to address an important issue. “However, I pray that your idea of liberation isn’t just dumping them in a remote jungle.”

“Don’t be silly, Brain!” Wakko replied as they started to carry the mouse out from the lab. “My sibs and I contacted some professionals who’ll take them to a properly-funded animal sanctuary.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Brain sighed.

As Wakko and Brain entered the hallway, they immediately noticed Yakko and Dot running towards them. As the siblings sprinted, Brain noticed that Pinky was riding on Dot’s left shoulder.

When they entered the hallway, Brain and Wakko immediately noticed Yakko and Dot running towards them, with Pinky riding on Dot’s right shoulder.

“Brain!” Pinky called out. Tears flooded his eyes as he gazed at his beau once more.

Brain looked over to see his partner, safe and sound. “Pinky!”

Pinky leaped from Dot’s shoulder and sprinted towards Brain. The smaller mouse opened up his arms as he crashed into the lanky mouse’s loving arms.

“Oh Brain, I missed you so much!” Pinky cried.

“I missed you too, Pinky.” Brain confessed, cupping Pinky’s cheeks with his tiny pink paws. Without a moment to lose, Brain leaned in for a kiss. Pinky wrapped his arms around Brain’s back, pulling him closer.

After moments of sharing a blissful kiss, they parted lips. Catching their breath, Pinky and Brain stared into each others’ eyes. Blue eyes that shined like the ocean gazed upon pink eyes as soft as the cherry blossoms. Feeling the love that radiated from those cerulean orbs, Brain instinctively pressed his large forehead against Pinky’s. Pinky purred a soft ‘Narf’ as he nuzzled his bulbous red nose against Brain’s button nose.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot looked on, smiling warmly at the tender reunion. However, the rattling of the front door startled the mice and the toon siblings. Yakko stepped forth to protect his family from any potential antagonist that dared to separate them again.

Instead, a tall, brown adult squirrel entered the building. The mice and the Warners paid their undivided attention towards Skippy Squirrel. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties. The top of his head was covered with scruffy hair and he was dressed in a white t-shirt covered by a green-and-black flannel shirt.

The squirrel grinned upon seeing the group. “Hey fellas,” Skippy greeted with a friendly wave.

The siblings and the mice were surprised by how deep the squirrel’s voice had gotten over the years. But the shock was soon replaced with joy as the Warners grinned excitedly at their former co-star.

“Skippy!” The Warners exclaimed as they launched themselves onto the squirrel, tackling him in a loving hug.

“Boy, you’re certainly taller than I last remembered.” Yakko complemented.

“And you guys are still the same,” Skippy remarked.

“It’s a long story, but we were in suspended animation for over twenty years,” Yakko explained. Skippy wordlessly nodded. He seemed to understand the situation but refused to press any more questions to avoid stepping over any boundaries.

Pinky sprinted towards the squirrel and hugged his bushy brown tail. “Oh Skippy, I missed you so much! Narf!” The mouse cried. “I haven’t seen you since Brain and I attended your Bar Mitzvah!”

“Oh yeah, that was back in 1999,” Skippy added as he carefully plucked Pinky from his tail, allowing the lanky mouse to relax in the palm of his hand. “Oh, wow, it’s been a while, huh?”

Brain, however, stared in disbelief as he cautiously approached the young adult. “Good heavens, is it you?”

Skippy chuckled, offering the mouse to hop on his hand to keep Pinky company. “Hey Brain, long time no see!”

After embracing the mice, the adult squirrel looked over towards Yakko. “So what’s the scoop?”

“Right, we should proceed onto phase two of our plan.” Yakko addressed with a clap of his hands. “Brain, do you happen to know where all the other lab animals are kept?”

“Yes, there were a few cages of mice in the room I was in.” Brain answered. “And I’m certain that they were all unwilling participants in that half-baked separation experiment. ”

“Poit! And there were some mice in my room, too!” Pinky added concernedly.

“As for the whereabouts of the other animals, they’re held captive in a storage facility located in the second to last door down the right-wing of the lab.” Brain continued, pointing his hand down the hall to direct the others down the correct path.

“What kind of animals?” Dot asked worriedly as she clasped her gloved hands together.

“Rats, hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, rabbits, some dogs, a couple of cats, and, if my memory serves correct, a chimpanzee.” Brain listed off.

“Oh wow,” Skippy muttered in shock.

“And do you know the location of the animal sanctuary you plan to take them to?” Brain inquired.

“Oh yeah, a group of animal activists from down under would be taking them there!” Yakko replied. “They took care of the bun infestation a while back, and they’re more than happy to take the lab animals to their government-funded animal sanctuary.”

“I can get them to pick up the animals at Slappy’s place if that’s convenient.” Wakko piped up.

“Go for it.” Skippy approved. “I believe I have enough room on my truck bed to safely transport all the animals to my aunt’s house.”

“Awesome!” Dot cheered.

“Faboo!” Wakko added enthusiastically.

“So how about it, team?” Yakko declared as he placed his hand in the middle. “Let’s go give the other animals a chance at a better life and blow this seedy lab to bits!”

Wakko and Dot eagerly placed their gloved hands over their brother’s. Skippy placed his hand on top of Dot’s. Despite their diminutive size, the mice placed their paws on top while standing on top of Wakko and Dot’s arms.

“Alright Animaniacs, let’s roll!” Yakko exclaimed.

The others responded with a resounding cheer as they raised their hands in the air. While Pinky and Brain were sent flying into the air, they were thankfully caught by Wakko and placed on top of their red cap.

Setting the game plan into motion, the mice and the toons scoured the lab to round up the remaining lab animals. Pinky and Brain used their knowledge of the facility to guide the toons to the specific rooms where the animals were kept.

They plucked the cages and placed them into the wheelie carts. Brain and Pinky noted the confused and anxious responses from the animals. However, he knew that they were being transported to a better place, and they hoped that they would find peace and comfort in the animal sanctuary.

About fifteen minutes later, the gang retrieved all of the lab animals. Dozens upon dozens of cages were loaded onto many carts.

Brain smiled contentedly at the accomplished task when he felt a soft paw tap his shoulder.

“Um, Brain,” Pinky said shyly. “Don’t you think that maybe we should grab our stuff from the cage?”

Brain stared at Pinky for a moment. His partner was always the sentimental one, keeping his belongings in their sardine tin. The pictures of Pharfignewton, the shirt he brought him from Dollywood, the spellchecker-

At that moment, Brain realized that Pinky had a point. “Perhaps we should grab our belongings from our cage.” He sagely agreed.

“Wakko?” Brain asked, alerting the middle child beneath him. “Would you be a dear and take Pinky and me over to the west wing of the lab? We need to grab our things.”

“Of course, Dadoo!” Wakko happily obliged.

Yakko, Dot, and Skippy overheard the conversation and smiled in agreement.

“Alright, you guys go do that while we pack up the animals in the truck,” Skippy announced.

“Will do!” Wakko saluted as he started to skip down the hallway, careful not to drop the two mice he carried on top of his cap.

Not a moment later, the trio stopped at the large green doors at the end of the hallway. Wakko cautiously opened up the door to find an abandoned research room filled with various lab equipment, desks, and chairs. Pinky and Brain gazed at their surroundings as Wakko tiptoed over to the green cage that sat on top of a table.

“Is this your place?” Wakko inquired as he pointed at the empty cage.

“Yes,” Brain answered in a serious tone.

The mice hopped off of Wakko’s hat and trotted over to their soon-to-be-former abode.

Pinky and Brain went inside their cage and looked at their precious sponge bed. The couple approached their special sardine can, which was filled with many precious keepsakes they gathered over the years.

The mice opened the lid, only to discover all of their valuable possessions were just as they left them. The radish rose whachamoozit they acquired after that fateful Halloween. The many caricatures of Brain, which were lovingly illustrated by their son Romy. Pinky’s high school graduation cap. The mouse-sized guitar and black cowboy hat from Brain’s stint as country musician Bubba Bo Bob Brain. Pinky’s precious spellchecker. Finally, Brain found the most important artifact in their humble treasure trove, which was a small globe keychain. The mouse couldn’t help but smile as he held the world in his hands.

Pinky walked away from the sardine can and took in the surroundings of his home. “Poit! I’m going to miss this old place,” He sadly sighed before hugging the exercise wheel.

Brain pondered for a moment before an unusual thought hit him. “I know this is going to sound preposterous, but I don’t see why we couldn’t take our cage as well.”

Pinky gasped, his eyes widening in excitement. “You mean it, Brain?”

“Whatever makes you happy, my dear Pinky.” Brain responded with a chuckle.

Pinky enveloped Brain in a tight hug and spun him around. “Narf! Oh, thank you Brain!”

“Yes, yes, now please put me down before you crush my lungs.” Brain commanded. Pinky sheepishly placed him back on the ground and carefully patted his back.

But the floor started to rumble when Wakko held up the cage. “Alright dads, let’s blow this joint!”

But the classic phrase caused Pinky to wear a stern frown. “No chance, young toon!” He chastised. “Smoking is terrible for your health! I had to help Brain kick his addiction to cigarettes, and I am not going to see you go down that same path!”

“But why would you think I like a disgusting hobby like that?” Wakko asked defensively.

Brain pinched the bridge of his brows. “Pinky, Wakko was not referring to smoking when he said let’s blow this joint. It’s a common phrase people say before they leave an undesired location, much like how we should be leaving this God-forsaken lab!”

Pinky’s frown transformed into a giddy smile. “Oh, well thanks for clearing that up for me, Brain! Troz!”

With the mix-up now resolved, the trio left the room, leaving the second home the mice had come to accept.

After exiting the building, they noticed that the truck was all packed up. Every cage was carefully placed in the truck bed, with elastic wires securing the top shelf. Skippy had closed the driver’s seat door, ready to take everyone to their next location.

Dot alerted her sibling and the mice from the open passenger seat door. “Come on!”

Wakko clutched the cage to their chest and sprinted towards the truck. They hopped in, settling in between their siblings. Dot closed the door, giving Skippy the cue to start the engine.

Pinky and Brain sat comfortably in their cage, as they were surrounded by the toon siblings. The mice were glad that everyone was safe and sound.

Yakko noticed the mice settling some items that were stored in the old tin can. “So what do you have there?” The teen curiously inquired.

“Just some valuable keepsakes.” Brain softly replied.

“Like our son Romy’s wonderful drawing of Brain!” Pinky showed off the picture of Brain dressed up as a traditional circus clown.

“Well, that’s an accurate portrait, if I do say so myself.” Yakko quipped.

Brain raised his brow in frustration, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at the teen.

“Oh, Brain!” Pinky alerted him by tapping his shoulder. “Dot was the one who came up with the clever rescue plan!” He praised in a sing-song voice.

The shorter mouse looked over at the Warner sister with a pleasantly surprised smile. “So that genius plan was all your doing?”

Dot perked up at the praise. “Yes, it was.” She answered while flashing a confident smile.

Brain walked up to the other side of the cage and placed his hand through the bars to pat her hand. “I’m incredibly proud of you, Dot.” He said. “If you keep exercising your keen mind, you just might be as intelligent as I am.”

“Or maybe I might be even more intelligent than you are right now.” Dot teased.

Brain’s smile changed into an offended scowl. “Alright young lady, let’s not get cocky here.”

Suddenly, Wakko let out a horrified gasp. “Dadoo, you just said a swear word!”

“Have you no shame? ” Dot added in feigned scorn.

“You star in a children’s show for goodness sake, you have a wholesome image to maintain!” Yakko chided.

Brain let out an exasperated groan as he buried his face into his paws. He could hear Yakko, Wakko, and Dot’s bubbly giggles, no doubt savoring his annoyed reaction. But as his frustration started to simmer, a small smile began to form as he was immensely grateful to be in their presence once more. He would gladly take playful jabs at his pride over inane and cruel experiments any day.

Skippy started up the truck and began to drive off, leaving a visible dust cloud as it zoomed away from the premises. Brain looked at the toon siblings, glad that their weekend had turned out well despite some difficult setbacks. He debated whether or not he should bring up their brief moment of captivity at Acme Labs to the CEO.

Brain’s eyes widened in shock as he remembered one crucial detail he had forgotten about. “Oh, shoot, the credit card!” He anxiously yelled. “I must have left it in the park along with my mechanical suit!”

Pinky immediately rushed over towards his partner’s side, taking his hand and rubbing it in soothing motions. “Now, Brain, it’s not the end of the world.”

“But it’ll be the end of our careers if we don’t return it to her.” Brain moaned.

The Warners sympathetically stared at the mice. “Aw, chin up guys, I’m sure it’s at the park.” Yakko offered. “Hey Skippy, would it be too much trouble if we made a pit stop?”

“No worries,” Skippy assured while keeping his focus on the road.

From the comfort of the cage, Brain inspected the adult Squirrel’s reflection in the rearview mirror. Time was certainly kind to him. He looked to be in shape and relatively healthy for a squirrel his age. Brain then thought about the young man’s aunt. It had been so long since he and Pinky interacted with the geriatric toon veteran. He could easily recount the moment they first met.

- - - - - -

Warner Movie Lot, 1992

Brain tugged Pinky by the wrist as they scurried into the sound stage. He spent the last ten minutes watching Pinky work up the courage to ask Marvin the Martian to sign his scrapbook, his little pet project to document his part-time job on Animaniacs. Luckily, the toon veteran was gracious enough to sign his autograph into Pinky’s special book. Pinky nearly fainted from the act of kindness, but Brain managed to catch his roommate before meeting impact on the ground. The smaller mouse courteously thanked Marvin for the gesture and helped Pinky back up on his feet.

“Pinky, this is the last time your frantic search for autographs interferes with our schedule.” Brain chastised. The mouse knew how much Pinky’s happiness meant to him, but his new job was just as important. The mice were lucky that they landed the job as supporting actors for a promising variety show, and Brain planned to use his newfound celebrity status to sway the masses into submission. The one drawback to his plan was how the writers were steadfast in wanting to portray him as a lovable failure rather than an important authority figure. But the mouse chose not to dwell on this flaw. He could work through the demeaning material if it guaranteed adoration from impressionable viewers.

“Poit! I’m sorry Brain,” Pinky apologized.

The mice made their way onto the stage, joining the large and colorful cast members. Brain let go of Pinky’s wrist to check his wristwatch. It was 11:27 AM. The mouse released a sigh of relief. They arrived right on time.

Brain turned his attention back towards Pinky. “No need to fret, Pinky. At least we made it on time.”

The mice swiftly joined the rest of the cast on the sound stage. They had made their acquaintances with most of the main cast. Pinky became swift friends with practically everyone on the set, and everyone except Pesto returned the affection. Brain was a little more skeptical, though he did express his fondness for Hello Nurse’s brilliant mind.

Just then, the voluptuous intellect, donned in her traditional nurse’s uniform, walked by the mice, but not without a friendly greeting. “Pinky, Brain.” She politely addressed them with a smile.

“Ah, greetings Heloise.” Brain politely replied with a nod.

“Hi, Hello Nurse!” Pinky chirped while waving at her.

Soon afterward, a middle-aged man with black hair sporting a light blue tuxedo approached the sound stage and looked at the various actors. Brain had seen him quite a handful of times on the movie lot. Mr. Director was his name, and he tried to assert his dominance and so-called ‘comedic genius’ wherever he went.

“Alright, look alive people!” Mr. Director commanded in a serious tone. “Since this show is poised to become a comedy smash, I took it upon myself to direct the remaining portions to this show’s opening theme. And with my comedic genius, I will do everything within my power to ensure that this opening will be memorable and, most importantly, fun-”

But the pompous director was interrupted when a trio of toon siblings bounced into the building. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot Warner stepped in time as they bounded near the sound stage. “Boingy! Boingy! Boingy!” They chorused.

The siblings then leaped onto Mr. Director, who started to panic as the zany children demolished his boundaries.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” Yakko teased with a sly smile before giving him a comedic smooch on the cheek.

But Mr. Director was not having any of it. “Enough with the kissing, and the hugging, and the teasing!” He whined in an obnoxious, nasally voice.

The toons wordlessly hopped off of him and made their way to the set. As they scanned the wide and colorful cast, they immediately set their sights on the rodent duo they recently befriended. The children bounded over towards Pinky and Brain and dug their heels into the ground as they screeched to a grinding halt.

“Hi!!!” The Warners greeted the mice.

“Hello, children!” Pinky exclaimed with a wave.

“‘Sup?” Brain muttered sardonically as he dug his hand into his fur pocket.

“Thanks for taking us to McDonald’s the other day,” Wakko mentioned as he pulled out his little toy truck from his hammerspace. “Now I get to play with my Happy Meal Toy all day long!”

Mr. Director quickly took attendance of all the cast members to be featured in the grand finale. He then gave a sharp whistle, alerting everyone in the room.

“Alright, almost everyone is here. But the only two people missing are Slappy and Skippy Squirrel.”

“Present!” A rough voice barked.

Everyone turned to see a grey squirrel with a green cap guiding a younger brown squirrel into the sound stage. The elderly squirrel wore a sour frown as she led her nephew to the sound stage.

But Mr. Director stopped the squirrels. “And where have you been?”

“Stuck in traffic.” The geriatric squirrel spat.

“Sorry, sir,” The younger squirrel mentioned. “My aunt Slappy is a bit cranky.”

“Cranky? I need you to be funny!” Mr. Director chastised. “And on top of that, I can’t work with toons who don’t show up on time or aren’t funny!”

But the director felt the blunt force of the squirrel’s green purse as it hammered his head, causing him to shout “Flauvein!” in his nasal tone.

Slappy grinned as she turned her attention to her impressionable nephew. “Now you see, Skippy, you should always take a purse with you whenever you leave the house.” She advised while she opened up her green bag. “That way, you can easily carry your most valued possessions around wherever you go. Such as your money, your car keys, and your heavy cinder block!”

Skippy quickly took out his crayon and notebook from his hammerspace, flipping through the pages until he reached a blank page, which happened to be the second to last page. As the squirrel jotted down the important lesson, he was unaware that his sage aunt was observing her pupil writing down her advice.

Slappy looked over her nephew’s shoulder and was quite impressed with the nearly full notebook. “You got a lot of notes there, huh kiddo?”

“Well, I do have a good teacher!” Skippy complimented with a smile. Slappy let out a small snort before playfully ruffling Skippy’s hair.

Once he gathered his bearings, Mr. Director proceeded to get the shoot over and done with before he received any more comical amounts of pain. “Alright, places people!” He shouted in his nasal voice.

The mice tried to find their place. Brain knew that the Warners were supposed to take center stage since they were the main stars. The smaller mouse scanned the area for possible spots for Pinky and himself. He settled on standing behind Wakko and ahead of the two squirrels. He tugged Pinky to the desired spot and waited for the director to give out their cue.

“And action!” Mr. Director commanded.

Pinky and Brain followed their cues as they raised their arms in the air alongside their co-workers.

“We’re Animaney! Totally Insane-”

“Cut!” The director yelled. He stood up from his director’s chair and began to chastise the many actors. “Wakko, stop sticking your tongue out! Hippos, you need to switch places with Ralph and Chicken Boo. Goodfeathers, I need more feeling from you three! And where on earth are Pinky and The Brain?”

The other cast members murmured amongst themselves as they did what they were told. Many of them scanned around the room in the hopes of finding their diminutive co-stars.

Brain let out an exasperated sigh. It was moments like this that he wished he was of human stature. Pinky looked over to his frustrated roommate and softly patted his head.

Unbeknownst to the mice, Slappy looked down to find the pair of white mice standing in front of her. The elderly squirrel let out a groan as she bent down. She scooped up the two mice in her hands and lifted them for all to see.

“Found ‘em!” She gruffly called out.

The squirrel stared at the two white mice in her hands. The tall lanky one gazed in shock with his big blue eyes. The smaller, and much chubbier, mouse crossed his arms and furrowed his brows as he gave a menacing stare with his pink eyes.

Despite Brain’s serious demeanor, Slappy couldn’t help but smirk at the adorable display. “You’re not a morning person either, I take it?” She humored.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Brain replied. “And I greatly dislike being touched without permission.”

The squirrel was admittedly surprised by how such a small mouse could have a deep voice. But she could sympathize with his complaints. “Well, that makes two of us.”

Pinky, on the other hand, was trying his hardest to contain his excitement. One of the Looney Tunes was holding him and Brain in her hands!

Slappy noticed Pinky’s heavy breathing and tilted her head in mild concern. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m Pinky!” He blurted out.

Brain rubbed his temples as he felt the wave of secondhand embarrassment course through him.

But Mr. Director noticed the way the squirrel held the mice and was immediately inspired.

“That’s perfect!” He bellowed from the director’s chair, catching everyone’s attention. “Slappy, keep holding the mice just like so! Not only will the mice be visible to the viewers, but it greatly symbolizes the passing of the torch, with you, the elderly toon, raising the eager newcomers! Oh, I am such a genius!”

Slappy and Brain looked at each other with incredulous expressions. This pretentious director was trying to find meaning in every pose. But Pinky did not seem to mind.

Fortunately, the rest of the filming went off without issue, as the mice followed their cues along with the rest of the cast. Pinky couldn’t shake off the excitement of being held by one of his favorite cartoon stars. Brain, on the other hand, secretly liked being lifted in a way that showcased his importance.

Once filming wrapped, Slappy placed the mice back on the ground, but not without feeling a shot of pain course through her hip.

“Are you alright?” Pinky asked worriedly.

“Eh, it’s nothin’ to worry about.” The elderly squirrel dismissed.

Pinky suddenly became nervous again. He wanted to ask the squirrel to sign his scrapbook, but he was afraid of getting rejected.

Brain noticed Pinky’s apprehension and deduced that it had something to do with obtaining another autograph in his precious scrapbook. So he decided to motivate his friend to gather his courage the best way he knew how.

“Oh, just ask her already!” Brain barked with an annoyed frown.

Pinky obeyed Brain’s command and decided to take a leap of faith. “Poit! Oh, um, Slappy? May I please have your autograph for my scrapbook?” He shyly asked.

Slappy cocked her brow up in interest but decided to oblige the humble request. “Yeah, sure.” She replied while taking out a pen from her purse. “It’s been a while since anyone asked, but I aim to please my fans.”

Pinky smiled as he handed her his scrapbook. Slappy opened up the book and flipped through the pages. Skippy peered over her shoulder, wanting to take a gander at the scrapbook. The first page featured a colored photograph of the mice standing in a meeting room posing with the show’s executive producer. She flipped through the pages to find snapshots of the mice working on set, pictures of their co-stars, and various crew members. The latter half of the scrapbook was filled with autographs from various Looney Tunes and Hanna Barbera stars. She found a blank page and decided to write her name in big bold letters.

Pinky also noted Skippy’s interest and thought up a fun-fun, silly-willy idea. “Oh, you can also sign my scrapbook too if you’d like! Troz!”

Skippy was stunned. Someone wanted to have his autograph?! Even though he was young, he was aware of his aunt’s legacy in show business and had some doubts that he might never live up to her expectations. But with the humble request of his co-star, he began to feel hopeful that he might be seen as an equal.

Slappy happily handed the scrapbook and pen to her nephew. “Go at it, Skippy!”

Skippy signed his name underneath his aunt’s signature before passing the book back to the jolly mouse.

“Wow, my very first fan…” Skippy exhaled.

“Try not to let the fame get to your head, kiddo.” Slappy teased as she patted his head.

“Oh, thank you so much!” Pinky said excitedly, hugging the scrapbook close to his chest.

Slappy looked at the two mice and smiled. Feeling less cranky than she was when she arrived at the studio, she decided that it would be best to get to know her co-workers more. “Why don’t you two come with us,” The squirrel offered. “Speedy Gonzalez is supposed to be joining me for lunch, and I think he would get a kick out of meeting some up-and-coming rodent toons.”

Brain then felt the need to correct the misinformed toon veteran. “Actually, Pinky and I are genetically altered lab mice who were mistaken to be toons by the studio executives and only accepted this job so we could take over the world by gaining the love and adoration of the impressionable children and their parents.”

Slappy stared at the mice with incredulous eyes. While the mice appeared to be quite animated, she could buy that they were, in fact, actual lab mice. She also noted that he was equally honest about his acting career. “So you’re serious about getting into the business?” She questioned. The Brain stared at her as she did not immediately dismiss his claim in jest, but gave her an affirmative nod to her inquiry.

“You got a lot of gumption, I’ll give ya that,” Slappy said in earnest. “But I’ll show ya the ropes if you really wanna stand out.”

“But I already have jump ropes back at the lab,” Pinky explained. Brain shook his head at his roommate’s inane response and swiftly bopped him on top of his head. Pinky guffawed as he saw the colorful stars swirl around his head.

Skippy laughed at the mice’s antics. The bubbly giggle reached Slappy’s ears and she promptly looked over at her nephew. While Skippy was an impressionable kid, he was particularly picky when it came to entertainment. She learned the hard way that classic animated tearjerkers were a big no-no unless she wanted to sacrifice most of her bank account to pay for his therapy sessions. And it was hard to find a decent cartoon nowadays that wasn’t based on a preexisting IP or a shameless thirty-minute toy commercial. But clearly, these two rodents seemed to have as much chemistry as Laurel and Hardy.

Slappy looked over at her nephew once more before turning back to the mice. The elderly toon let out an amused snort. “You two have comedic potential.”

As the rodents were about to leave the set, they heard an audible cough coming from Mr. Director. The pretentious filmmaker stopped the group in their tracks. He was not ready to let them leave so soon. “Now, may I have a word with Pinky?”

“Only if they have a vowel,” Pinky replied with a serious nod.

“Great! Now Pinky, sweetheart, your performance was swell, but we need to improve your overall image.” The director critiqued. “Now you’re a funny little guy, but you’re not funny ‘ha-ha’, but funny ‘ho-ho’, and the reason you’re not funny ‘ha-ha’ is because of your buck teeth. No one wants to watch a cartoon character with buck teeth. A cartoon character with big feet, absolutely! But not with buck teeth, oh no. Fortunately, I know a handful of dentists who would love to fix your teeth, for a reasonable price of course.”

Pinky’s happy grin slowly transformed into a dismayed frown as he took in the criticisms the director hurled at him. He pressed his fingers against his overbite with concern, unaware of the fact that Skippy was also starting to feel insecure about his front teeth. Was he not a pretty mouse?

“Do you mean to say that I’m….ugly?” Pinky sadly asked, trying his best to fight back the oncoming tears.

“Well, objectively speaking, yes.” Mr. Director replied flatly.

Pinky whimpered as the tears flowed down his face. While he knew that ugly people can be beautiful in their own way, it still hurt to be on the receiving end of such mean words. Screwing his eyes shut, he clutched his tail as he started to cry his heart out.

Brain felt his heart go out to poor Pinky. But then his flaming fury began to take hold. Brain balled his paws into fists as he growled at the superficial filmmaker. No one, not even himself, could insult Pinky’s outward appearance.

“How dare you make my friend cry, you hack!” Brain snapped at the director. “Pinky is a beautiful and charming-looking soul, both on the inside and on the outside, and I do not take kindly to anyone who dares to mock his appearance! Especially from Jerry Lewis look-alikes!”

Mr. Director gasped in shock. “No you listen here, you son of a-”

But Slappy silently intervened, swinging around her green purse while wearing an indignant frown.

“Or maybe, let’s not with the hitting, and the smashing of the head with the purse.” He drawled in his nasal voice as he cowered away to the side.

“Well, if you insist.” Slappy cooly replied before hitting the director’s gut with her purse. The director let out a cry of pain as he clutched his stomach and fell to his knees.

Slappy smirked as she placed the purse across her shoulder, glad to have pushed the director off of his high horse. She looked over at her new companions, as Pinky scooped Brain up into a tight hug.

“Oh thank you, Brain!” Pinky cheered.

Brain instinctively kicked his tiny feet as his taller friend nuzzled his cheek. “You’re welcome Pinky,” He replied as he tried his hardest to keep his composure. “Now please put me down.”

Pinky immediately respected Brain’s wishes and carefully placed him back on the ground.

Much to Slappy’s surprise, Skippy stepped forward to speak to the mice. “Pinky, I think you look fine just the way you are!”

Pinky blushed lightly at the compliment. “Zort! Oh, you’re far too kind!”

“And Brain, you did a very good thing by standing up to that jerk.” Skippy praised. “Pinky must be lucky to have a nice friend like you.” ”

Brain felt himself smiling at the sincere compliment. But the smile vanished when he remembered that he had a serious image to maintain. “I am many things, the young squirrel,” Brain addressed, but his mind started to blank. “whose name I do not know at the moment.”

“Skippy!” The young squirrel happily responded.

“Right.” Brain agreed. “I am many things, Skippy Squirrel. A mouse of superior intellect, a future world leader, and an up and coming rhythmic gymnastics athlete.” He listed off his attributes with his fingers. “But with that said, I am not nice.”

“Oh, yes you are, Brain!” Pinky playfully teased as he squished his friend’s chubby cheeks.

Brain merely crossed his arms and shot an indignant glare. “Cease your prodding, Pinky, or I shall have to hurt you!” He bitterly commanded, and the taller mouse sheepishly hid his hands behind his back.

“Now that’s comedy!” Slappy chuckled at their antics. She could easily find herself watching a whole sitcom starring these two goobers. While the mice didn’t seem to be the ‘bomb-and-anvil’ types (the superior school of comedy in her book), they more than made up for it with their humorous banter and contrasting personalities.

The shorter mouse then turned his attention to the geriatric squirrel. “Of course, your aunt did most of the heavy lifting, so to speak, by standing up for us. And, as I’m loath to admit it, I am in your debt.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Slappy dismissed as she waved her hand down. “So are you two comin’ to lunch with us or what?”

“Count me in!” Pinky cheered.

“Yes.” Brain agreed.

Skippy knelt on one knee and extended an open hand in front of the mice. “Can I pick you up?” he asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Brain allowed, deducing that they would reach the commissary faster by hitching a ride on the young squirrel as opposed to walking on foot.

“Oh, goodie! We’re going on a ride! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed as the younger squirrel lifted him and his best friend off the ground.

Slappy smiled at her shorter co-stars as the group started on their merry way. “I have the feelin’ that this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

- - - - - -

The truck came to a stop, bringing Brain back to the present. Picking up a small bent paper clip, he trotted over towards the cage door and picked the lock. As he swung the door open, Wakko turned the cage around and allowed the mice to hop into his hands before placing them on top of his hat. The rodents stared out the window to see the sun dipping low over the park. As the Warners and the mice hopped out of the car, Skippy quickly paid the parking meter before joining the group.

“Poit! Hey Brain, do you think it would be best if we released the mice here?” Pinky asked as he wrung his paws together.

Brain took a moment to think about it and realized that Pinky had a point. He remembered seeing the frightened expressions of the field mice as they were ripped apart from their home in the wild. It would only be fair to return them to their home.

“You’re right, Pinky.” Brain commended his partner, gently taking his paw into his own.

The toons overheard the conversation and were quick to act. “We’re way ahead of you!” Yakko affirmed as he started to unload the truck bed.

“Now, the only thing I need to do is find the suit.” Brain mentioned.

“It’s over there, Dadoo!” Wakko alerted, pointing a finger over towards a largely abandoned suit in the middle of the park.

“I can help free the others while you go fetch your giant suit! Narf!” Pinky told him before hopping off Wakko’s hat and falling to the grass.

“I’ll help you get it!” Wakko declared as he broke out into a sprint. Brain steadied himself in the middle sibling’s hold as he ran across the field.

Yakko, Dot, and Skippy retrieved all the cages that housed the various mice. Pinky stared at his fellow rodents. He recognized some from the various experiments, from the maze runs to the makeup tests. The other mice started to claw anxiously at the glass upon recognizing their domain. Pinky hoped that the mice that were captured earlier could be reunited with their families while his familiar companions could find better lives with their fellow rodents in the field.

“Let the mice run free!” Pinky declared.

The toons and the squirrel opened up the lids and placed the cages sideways, allowing the mice to escape. Pinky smiled as he watched the mice scatter across the field, many of which were getting reacquainted with the softness of the green grass. Many of the former lab residents instinctively followed the field mice. Pinky blinked away the tears of joy that formed. He prayed that the mice would have happier days ahead of them.

Meanwhile, Wakko managed to reach the suit without any issue. Brain was thankful that the suit was right where he left it.

Wakko lowered their hands to the ground to let Brain down. The mouse hopped off and ran towards the right side of the suit, noticing the wallet was still snug within the pant pocket. Brain was relieved that no one had pilfered the suit for any valuables. The mouse reached into the pocket and used every ounce of his strength to retrieve the wallet. Pinky sprinted towards his beau’s side and helped him pull the wallet out. With a tug, the mice successfully fished out the wallet, which opened up. Brain looked to see the familiar glow of the company credit card and breathed a sigh of relief. He no longer had to fear the CEO’s wrath.

At that moment, Yakko, Dot, and Skippy reunited with the group as Dot carried Pinky on top of her head. The golden light coming from the wallet indicated that the card was still there and the mice no longer had to worry about losing their acting jobs.

Brain decided to check the engines to make sure that the suit was still fully functional. Opening up the right shoe, he entered the metallic footwear, climbed up the leg, and hopped in the pilot’s seat. Pinky hopped off of Dot, anxiously waiting for Brain’s giant head to pop up at the top. Meanwhile, Brain pulled the lever and the seat rose to the very top.

The others looked at the head hole with bated breath until Brain’s large cranium popped out.

“Honey, I’m home!” Brain drawled in a near-monotone voice.

While Brain moved the suit back on its feet, Pinky clutched his stomach as he laughed. “Oh, that’s a funny joke, Brain! Narf!”

“I’m not devoid of humor.” Brain replied as he picked Pinky up and placed him in the front pocket.

The Warners reached into their hammerspaces and pulled out their bingo cards, which were filled with various callbacks from the original Animaniacs. Yakko quickly placed a stamp over the ‘References to Win Big’ block. “Bingo!” The eldest Warner shouted as he proudly waved his bingo sheet, causing Wakko and Dot to groan in defeat.

Skippy pulled out his smartphone and decided to move forward with the final phase of the plan. He went to his contacts to search for his aunt’s name. Once he found her name, he pressed the green call button and pressed the phone to the side of his head.

After a moment, he heard his aunt’s cantankerous voice. “Hello,”

“Hey Aunt Slappy,” Skippy casually replied. “Just wanna give you the heads up that the lab is now abandoned and everyone’s safe. The ball is in your court now.”

“Lemme tell ya, it’s great to be back in business!” Slappy remarked from inside her secret hideout. The geriatric rodent reclined in her seat as she operated the control panel, no doubt eager for the signal to open fire on the lab.

“Right now we’re at the park getting Brain’s mechanical human suit,” Skippy informed her. “We’ll be back in about five minutes or so.”

“Say, why don’t you kids stay at the park for a few more minutes?” Slappy asked as she geared up the missiles from her control panel. “I’ll make sure to give you kids a little fireworks show as a treat!”

“Sounds like fun.” Skippy chirped. “And you can fire when ready.”

“Oh I’m always ready,” Slappy confidently announced before ending the phone call.

Skippy put his phone away and turned around to face the others. “My aunt’s gonna put on a little fireworks show.” He mentioned.

“Ooh, fireworks!” Pinky exclaimed.

Wakko eagerly climbed up the suit and perched himself on top of Brain’s shoulders. “And I get to have the best seat in the house!”

“No fair! You got to sit on top of him last time!” Dot argued as she climbed up the suit. “Daddy, tell Wakko to move!”

“Now cease your squabbling, children!” Brain commanded. “You can both sit on my shoulders as long as you two apologize.”

Dot took the big-headed mouse’s words to heart. “Wakko, I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“And I’m sorry for hogging the seat,” Wakko replied.

“Aww, it’s so nice to see you kids get along.” Pinky cooed as he felt Yakko pluck him from the suit pocket.

Suddenly, a wave of missiles flew over their heads and proceeded to descend towards the infamous laboratory that sat underneath the suspension bridge. Within seconds, a loud explosion could be heard from miles away as the laboratory was reduced to rubble.

Suddenly, a few fireworks launched into the air, decorating the sky with glittering colored lights.

Skippy held out his smartphone, filming the whole spectacle to show to his aunt later.

Wakko and Dot cheered at the sparkling display, and Brain couldn’t help but smile at the two toon children perched on his shoulders. He looked past Wakko to see Pinky contently sitting in Yakko’s hands, and watching the colored lights reflected from his soft blue eyes.

Yakko let out a peaceful sigh. After pulling off a daring rescue, it was nice to be reunited with his loved ones once more. And the surprise fireworks show was a nice way to cap off an eventful day. He looked up at his siblings, happy to see them have the time of their lives and fawning over Brain. Yakko took another glance at Pinky. To his surprise, the mouse looked up at Yakko and gave him a friendly smile. There was so much affection stored in Pinky’s face that it would be a crime not to smile back.

“Are you enjoying the pretty fireworks, love?” Pinky asked the teen.

“Oh absolutely!” Yakko replied with a smile.

Pinky eagerly clapped his paws together. “Zort! Well, it makes me happy that you’re happy!”

With that, the lanky mouse smiled at the toon once more before turning his attention back to the bright lights that decorated the night sky.

“I could get used to this,” Yakko thought to himself.

Brain continued to admire the fireworks when he heard a small metallic sound coming from his side. He peered over his shoulder to find Yakko resting his head against the mechanical suit’s chest. The wholesome sight humbled Brain. Yakko had been forced to be the parental figure for his younger siblings for far too long, so it was nice to see him act like a regular kid. But it deeply moved Brain to learn that Yakko now trusted him and Pinky to be his parental figures.

So Brain decided it was best to return the affection. With deft hands, he swiftly moved the lever to guide the right hand on top of Yakko’s head and proceeded to gently ruffle his hair.

They all watched the night sky as one last firework exploded, showering the dark canvas with glittering green lights. The sparkling lights spelled out the phrase “Now That’s Comedy!”

The Warners clapped at the fireworks display. Brain looked over at Pinky, who was in awe of the dazzling green lights. He looked over at the fireworks and let out a small chuckle. “The old dame’s still got it.”

Hello!

Firstly, I want to apologize for not updating this story sooner. I have had a lot of things going on in my personal life, one of which is a passion project I am excited to share with you all. I and my friend Mitchekie have put together an unofficial Pinky and The Brain podcast called Poitcast, which is set to premiere in July. We've already recorded two episodes and it's been a wonderful labor of love and I hope that you can take the time to listen to the pilot episode when it drops.

The main reason why this chapter took much longer to write because I wanted to come up with a creative idea for the rescue mission. After some brainstorming, I decided to incorporate Slappy and Skippy into the story. Both characters were a lot of fun to write for and they'll appear again in the next chapter.

Fortunately, there are only two chapters left and they are significantly shorter. The next chapter is halfway done and the last chapter is a brief epilogue, so the hiatuses will not be as long.

I want to thank Mitchekie for beta-reading this chapter.

And finally, I want to thank you, dear reader, for sticking with this story and being patient in between chapters. I love writing this story and I am glad that this story has received a lot of love.

Please leave a kudos or a review if you can! Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #patb #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #slappy squirrel #skippy squirrel

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

Text

Taking my heart by storm (Ethan x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hi guys! How are you guys doing today? It’s da weekend, bby. I’m back with another Friday fic. The idea for this one came to me when I was driving my cats to the vet and the storm was going on. We can all thank Mother Nature and her breakdown for that one entirely :D Also, the real MVP Naveen makes an appearance in this, because PB is hiding him and that’s some serious bs right there.

Summary: Ethan and Claire share a kiss in the rain in the greenhouse after storm cuts the lights out.

Enjoy! <3

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Since noon, the clouds have been crowding the sky, prompting the storm that was coming. Ethan’s shift has just ended when the first sound of a thunder rolled through the walls of the hospital. It was a hectic day, a wave of flu bringing more people to the free clinic and slippery ice sending many people tumbling to the ground, sprains and broken limbs overpowering the cases doctors had to face.

Unsurprisingly, Ethan couldn’t wait to get home. Especially since he knew for a fact that tonight, he wouldn’t be alone. Claire has accepted his invitation earlier that day, smiling every time she saw him, vision of them going home together never too far away from her mind. That smile of hers was what he thought about fairly often, and for the past few weeks, he was admitting it both to himself and to Claire. And with each day that he opened up to her more, it became easier to let her in.

The last time he saw her was two hours ago, when they finished consulting for a patient of the team. Since then, they communicated through texts, much to her amusement, and he had no doubts that she would be teasing him about it, like she always did. And he always would tell her that she’s lucky he cared about her, or he wouldn’t let it slide this easily.

He grabbed his bag and closed the office behind him, taking his phone out to text her once again, asking where she was. Not a minute later, he knew where he was supposed to go, aiming his steps towards her. No nurse or doctor dared to stop him, one look at his tired form letting them know it’s best to steer clear.

The entrance to the garden was tucked away from the view, and not many people knew about its existence, not even people working there. For that reason, the hall leading up to it was empty, as was the garden itself. The bench in the middle of the room was occupied.

Claire was lying down, the tips of her hair brushing the ground. Both hands resting on her stomach, moving up and down with every breath she took. Her eyes were closed, face a picture of complete calmness, a stark contrast to the angry wind that shook the trees outside and smacked raindrops against the glass of the orangery.

Ethan placed his bag on the ground by the entrance, then leaned against the doorframe, watching her silently. It’s a very rare sight for him lately, to see her so blissfully relaxed and detached from the issues of the hospital. Of course, when they were alone, it was fairly easy for both of them to forget about their problems. At work, though, the fatigue and dread followed them like their own shadows, never too far behind.

With the next breath of his, she stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open, feeling that she was being watched. She took a moment to let her eyes readjust to the brightness of the room, a small moan escaping her lips. Ethan reached for the switch, dimming the lights a bit to make it easier for her, giving her a clear sign that she wasn’t alone anymore. Her head turned towards him, the corners of her lips going up at the sight of him.

“Hi.” She muttered, her voice raspy and deep. Her body didn’t move, not even an inch, as he walked towards her slowly, keeping his eyes on her firmly.

“I thought you left, with how long ago I last saw you.” he mused, keeping a bit of distance between them, just in case someone was to walk in on them, however unlikely it was. Claire grinned, raising her hands above her head to stretch. Her words were strained when she spoke again.

“I have plans for the evening. Maybe even for the night if things work out.”

Despite them both being still in the hospital and having it hanging over their heads, Ethan couldn’t fight the smile nor the acceleration of his pulse at what she was alluding to. “I assure you that whoever invited you has similar things on his mind.”

Slowly, she sat up, her hair falling over her shoulders and framing her face and neck. With a slow and controlled move, she beckoned him closer, crooking her finger and looking at him with a sultry smile. It was dangerous, how fast he reacted accordingly to her wishes, without stopping for even a second to think about what they were doing. When he was close enough to hear her low whisper, she found his gaze with hers, her eyes darkening slightly.

“Similar things, huh? Are you sure?” she hooked her little finger with his thumb, then released it so she could slide her hand up his arm. Each time she touched him, a wave of heat ran to the very core of him. She traced the shapes on the skin on the inside of his elbow, all the while looking at him with the intensity that he’s seen countless of times before. “Why don’t you show me what you’re thinking about right now?”

He cupped the side of her face with his other hand, stroking her cheekbone softly, his mind giving up the fight with each move their fingers made. Getting down on his knees, he slid his palm down the side of her neck, squeezing her shoulder on his way, until, finally, he let it linger on her thigh. He opened his mouth to say something, but before any words could form, a harsh roar of a thunder interrupted him. Moments later, the lights flickered and then went out, drowning them in darkness.

“How long until the backup power modules begin working?” Claire muttered, as though the atmosphere dictated how loud they could be. Ethan listened to the hum of the rain before he answered.

“The power kicked back in immediately, so all the machinery is still working. As for the lights, though, it can be a few minutes.”

“How long?” she asked again, leaning towards him blindly, knowing only the general direction in which she should be heading. Lightning struck, bringing their sight back for a short moment, raindrops casting shadows on their faces, enhancing the lines of their features.

“Give or take, ten minutes. Why?”

“No reason.” She shrugged, pulling on his hand and bringing him flush against her, their lips brushing together. This close, she could almost see the hint of light, reflecting in his eyes, though she could have been imagining things. His hands found their place on her back, keeping them close together. He could argue that it was to keep them both safe, prevent possible injuries if one of them were to move and trip over something, but he knew damn well that his one and only purpose was to feel her warmth. To smell her perfume. To feel her arms wrap around him and keep him close.

With the next lightning, he focused on her lips. How the corners remained turned up, just as they were before the power went out. How the shape of them fit his too perfectly for their meeting to have been an accident. The pull towards her he felt was too strong for him to fight, and yet, for so long, he tried to resist it. Only to, in the end, dive into the storm that she was, slowly letting her consume him whole.

When the darkness came back, he pulled her into the kiss. It’s slow and light, unlike the quick kiss she gave him before she left his apartment that morning. Unlike the ravenous kisses they attacked each other with the night before, right after the door to his home closed behind them. There’s no heat, no desire other than that to keep the other close and not let go. There’s no doubt, either, just pure certainty, warmth and care, evident in the way his arms held her tightly and in the way her grip on his shoulders was secure.

Water continuously fell from the sky, drumming against the glass ceiling of the greenhouse, almost entirely masking the quiet sounds they were making. Claire wouldn’t have been able to notice how he hummed against her lips if it wasn’t for the gentle vibrations it was causing, teasing her nerve endings.

Ethan leaned away eventually, using a glimpse of light to look at her again. His heart hammered in his chest, his cheeks must have been flushed and he was sure that he looked positively infatuated. Staring at her in the dark, he could see with his memories how she glanced at him in moments like these; flickers of happiness in her eyes and a soft smile lighting up her face, brighter than any source of light ever could.

“That’s as close to the kiss in the rain as we’ll ever get.” Claire giggled quietly, moving her hand to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. He welcomed the sensation, leaning into her touch. She couldn’t possibly see his teasing smirk, but he had a feeling she knew it was there.

“Who knew such an idiotic idea could be so pleasant.” He wondered out loud, waiting for a reaction of hers. And he got just that. She scoffed, punching his arm playfully before falling into his embrace again with a sigh as the storm raged outside.

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Naveen slowly navigated the long halls of his hospital, flashlight in hand, searching for people caught by the darkness. So far, he managed to guide three lost patients that went on a walk and couldn’t find their way back when the power went out, and that prompted him to go on.

Knowing that not many of his colleagues were even aware of the existence of the garden, he decided to go there himself. How was it possible that people worked there for years but not know about all the locations in their workplace was beyond him, but he didn’t have time to wonder about it in that moment.

He called out loudly as he walked, listening in for any signs of voices, but there was no answer. No sound other than the angry howls of the storm outside. His flashlight shone rays of brightness onto the walls and the floor, and once he reached the greenhouse, it pierced through the glass and reflected in the leaves of many plants that grew there.

Upon entering the room, he called out again, moving the flashlight around slowly. “Hello? Is anyone here- oh.”

Naveen stopped abruptly, taking in the sight in front of him. He expected a lot of things, and a lot of people, but no matter how many times he blinked, the picture didn’t disappear. It was very much real.

Ethan sat up faster than he thought he could at the sound of his mentor’s voice. Some time has passed since the lights have gone out, and when kisses transitioned into a tight embrace, he pulled her onto the ground, both of them lying down so they could watch the sky as the clouds went by, lit up by lightning strikes from time to time. It almost felt like it could have been their first date, but neither of mentioned it.

When Naveen found them, Ethan’s hand was running up and down Claire’s arm, their bodies pressed close as the low hum of the rain almost lulled them both to sleep. Upon interruption, Ethan, and shortly after Claire, sat up, both immediately awake and aware of how busted they were.

They stared at each other for a long while, unsure what were the words that were supposed to be said. Eventually, Naveen broke out of the trance, nodding his head slowly in acknowledgement. In the darkness of the garden he couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty much certain that Ethan’s cheeks were taking on a bit of a darker color. It was Claire that confirmed it for him when she eventually cut the silence.

“Go easy on him with the teasing.”

Ethan’s head turned towards her in record time, his face spelling out mock betrayal, which made her laugh even more than she already was. She patted his shoulder with her extended hand, muttering ‘there, there’, a joke that he was clearly not amused by. Naveen watched them with a growing grin.

“You two are adorable.” His words caused the pair to look at him with surprise in their eyes. He walked towards them, extending his hand in Claire’s direction to help her up. She accepted it, standing up and pulling Ethan right along with her. “The lights are going to be gone for at least another hour, so you two should go home.”

Ethan’s annoyance was crystal clear in the way he spoke. “I can literally hear you smiling, Naveen, what’s got you so amused?”

“I’m just wondering, how did you wear him down, Claire? I’ve spent years trying to get him to go fishing with me and he wouldn’t budge.”

She laughed, squeezing Ethan’s arm before she walked towards the exit with Naveen by her side, telling him her strategy as though it was a well-kept secret. Ethan stayed in the garden for a moment longer, watching their silhouettes go with an easy smile before he followed them back towards the hospital.

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#open heart #ethan ramsey #choices #my writing

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codename-adler · 3 years

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Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt.V

Let’s all repeat after me: therapizing our faves helps us therapize ourselves! If Kevin can get better, maybe we all can... right?

>>Table of Contents, TW and other parts here!

the water runs behind the bathroom door for so long that Kevin spaces out in his spot on the floor, losing himself in thoughts about the Foxhole Court (surprise, surprise)

Juliet comes out at last an hour later, freshly showered, her hair wet and springy, her face even paler than before

she goes to rummage through her tiny dresser, slow and silent like a dead walker, and pulls out multiple clothes before going back into the humidity of the bathroom

she finally comes out into the room a few minutes later, dressed in clean sweatpants and multiple t-shirts and sweaters

the one on top is a simple, XXL black hoodie with the PSU logo on the front, in washed out orange

Kevin unconsciously thinks that the blindingly bright orange Exy hoodies the Foxes have would suit her so much better

happy colors help happy thoughts, right?

(who said that again? was it Nicky? he was probably talking about the gay flag anyways...)

Kevin is pulled from his thoughts when Juliet trudges over to her bed, lets herself fall in it and sluggishly pulls on blue fuzzy socks to warm her cold feet

he slighlty turns to look up at Juliet, and they start a staring contest from where they each sit

but Kevin soon realizes that not everything is a contest, and not everyone exists to challenge him, and Juliet isn’t the Foxes

because she barely lasts 2 seconds before lowering her gaze to her hands, shoulders tensing and fingers picking at dry skin

however, as Kevin keeps feeling out of his depth and thinks about just leaving right there and then, Juliet quietly mumbles

“If I talk, will you talk too?”

Kevin’s first thought is “I don’t have shit to say and I sure as hell wouldn’t give you dirt on me,” and it clearly shows on his face

lucky for him, Juliet’s head is still lowered, so he has time to force himself out of his fight-or-flight relfex

she isn’t the Foxes, she isn’t the Ravens, she isn’t the Foxes, she isn’t the Ravens, she-

but still, what if she is? what if this is all a scam?

but then again, he looked for her, he found her, he spent the night, he is asking... if anyone’s nosy in all this, it’s him

it feels like at the point where he is, where they are, he’s acted far from his usual, asshole self, and he just wants to keep going... it feels good not to fight

“Yes, I will talk. If the subject stays within the limits of what I’m willing to talk about. You should do so yourself,” Kevin states, not quite softly, but not quite sharply either, like he usually does

Juliet anxiously nods, still not looking up

the silence settles back between them, the room heavy with dread, fear and awkwardness

after a while, Juliet speaks up, barely above a whisper, but in the quiet of her room, it feels like her words ring in Kevin’s ears

“If I google you right now, what am I going to find?”

and shit

anything but that

he wants to hold on so bad, just a little while more, to this nobody he’s managed to keep up with Juliet

because if she knows... then everything he’s managed to keep at bay when he’s with her will come rushing back over him, and over her too

and he doesn’t want that

it’s not shame, it’s not pride

it’s pure fear

“You are going to see very ugly things,” is all he responds, face blank and emptily staring at the wall

inside, though, it stings to say those words. because it isn’t totally the truth. exy is his pride, his reason to live, his air to breathe. but if she finds out about exy, she will also learn about the violence, the multiple “accidents”, she’ll know about Riko...

and if she knows about Riko, she’s one step closer to Riko knowing about her

“Kevin. When you say ‘ugly’, you mean you’ve had a shitty life so far, or you mean you’ve killed many people? Because you’re the man who slept on my floor all night and I’m alone, and I’m very afraid right now.”

of course he fucked it up one question in

what is he supposed to say, though? ‘Of course I’m not a murderer, but my owners are’ ?

and the more he thinks about the correct answer to give, the more he looks like he’s searching for an excuse and the more Juliet is retreating into the corner of her bed

“Fuck, no. It means that half the cards I’ve been dealt with are extremely good, and the other half is very, very fucked up. And it’s all over the Internet. And the things that you won’t find there are the ugliest. Ugly secrets that make me even more unlikeable to my... roommates, and our classmates. A walking asshole on a stick.”

Juliet stops moving

“That’s… quite the load of bullshit, Kevin. I won’t look, okay? I promise you. But you said truth for truth. That is not a truth. But... you also said we don’t have to answer if we don’t want to. Kevin, you don’t have to. I’ll take your word that you’re not a serial killer. I’ll haunt you if you are, though. I’ll make all your spoons disappear. And kick you in your sleep.”

Kevin didn’t know how to react

it was so… easy

too easy

just like that, the subject was dropped

no pushing, no threatening knife, no mood swing

now it was his turn

somehow he could only think of Matt, of Aaron and their nights out at Eden’s, of Seth…

“Are you on drugs?” was out of his mouth before he could be careful of his tone

it sounded severe, accusing

yet Juliet did not react, not even a little bit

she just kept on looking at him, letting the silence pressure him into guiltily babbling his excuse

“I’ve seen these signs before, okay! And heard about them too. I know what addiction looks like. The sickly pale skin, the mess, the absences, the shutdowns. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what.”

“Like a wounded animal.”

his tone was harsh enough to resemble the attitude he usually reserved for the Foxes

and he knew he’d been too rough when it caused Juliet to draw in a shaky breath

“Wow, you’re really good at that… Ever considered being a detective or a life coach? You’re actually not far from the truth… Jesus,” Juliet exhaled. “I do take drugs. Antidepressants. Strong ones. And I ran out this week. I don’t have the money. You’re currently witnessing a withdrawal combined with a depressive episode. Impressive, huh?”

her voice was so devoid of emotions Kevin was reminded once again of Andrew…

except that her face was a mirror cracked open, her pain palpable in the air between them

his first instinct was to reply ‘What’s wrong with you?’, because he genuinely wanted to know why she had to take such heavy medication at her age, and why she couldn’t afford it anymore, but he willed himself to let the words die on his tongue; try not to be a fuckup this time, will you?

however, before Kevin could formulate his thought correctly, the silence overworked Juliet too and she filled it with her story...

“I was diagnosed with dysthymia a couple of months ago. I’ve basically been stuck in a dark cloud since I was like, 15. Never went away. Wasn’t ‘serious’ enough to get medical attention, like the docs said. Fast forward last winter, I had a complete nervous breakdown at my workplace. It was pretty ugly. 911, ambulance, psych ward, psych eval, pills, and other… things. Oh, and a fuckload of bills. Even my scholarship doesn’t cover all of that. So I tried to make my prescriptions last longer by taking my medication every other day, which… Well, not recommended by your local psychiatrist. Last weekend I had to choose between groceries or pills. Now my body is missing its drugs and I’m missing major classes. So… Ta-da…” she told Kevin, her arms slowly moving as if to present a show.

Kevin was speechless

not because he was shocked, or because he pitied her, or because he was disgusted

he was speechless because of the anger that choked him from inside

he felt such a rage at the idea that Juliet couldn’t receive the help she needed, the care she deserved

he was speechless because as anger consumed him, he realized that it was the same anger he’d felt when Jean was given back to him in pieces

he was speechless because he cared too much, now

he hadn’t even seen it coming

if Juliet were to be pulled away now, it’d feel like pulling every stitches he ever had

and all it had taken was a few months

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astralaffairs · 4 years

Note

If you're taking asks, can I get "did you really have to give me so many hickeys" with Laurens? Thank you! I've re-read Freedom of the Press too many times to count, I love it so much

aww thank you!! i've had major writer's block with fotp 05, so i hope these drabbles hold y'all over until I can get it out. side note -- i've been doing sm writing for john lately and?? he's absolutely adorable???

---

You'd been avoiding John's workplace for about as long as you'd known him. You'd met him through a mutual friend, incidentally one of his colleagues, and hearing them discuss their job, their coworkers and clients, turned you off to the corporate world the moment you began to learn about it. Since you and he had been together, of course, he'd told you more and more, and since you'd moved in with him, you'd begun to feel like you could reconstruct his entire office from the ground up. As much as you hated the topic, it was his life, and if you wanted him, it came with the role. It was a trade-off you were more than eager to make.

However, actually breaking the boundary between your and his worlds was a line you hadn't yet crossed. So when he asked you to go his annual office party, a celebration of the corporation's progress and profits, your resistance was all but endless. He saw the party as the next step in your relationship; you saw it as pushing you further out of it.

When the time came, you couldn't say no -- it was clear how much this meant to him, and one night out of the rest of your life felt like a small sacrifice to make.

So that was exactly how you found yourself in the over-glamorous sixtieth floor of a corporate skyscraper. (John had been quick to catch onto the fact that "corporate" was a turn-off. At least you wouldn't be trying to rub one out in his place of work.) It wasn't quite what you'd expected, admittedly. Marble floors, glass doors and walls, gilded chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows -- you could go on.

It was a black-tie event. You'd arrived at the floor of the office huddled close to John, his arm around your waist, you pleading with him until the very last minute to go home as he only chuckled, kissed your cheek and all but pulled you out of the elevator.

"But what if we went home," you whined in his ear, clinging to his arm, and he only rolled his eyes, now scanning the room for who-knows-what. A sly smile crept onto your face as you leaned in, pulling him closer. "Promise I'd make it worth your time."

He could hear the mischief in your tone, and while he appeared moderately amused at your attempts, he gave you a pointed look. "Not the time, baby. Can you be good, just for one night?"

Your lips fell into a hard line, considering his demeanor as he raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. With your arms around his neck, you pulled him down to your level so you could kiss him on the nose. "Only for you," you whispered, and his smile was undeniable as he briefly leaned down to kiss you properly.

"Then c'mon."

You swallowed your exhausted groan as he tugged you toward a group of his colleagues -- these appeared to be the ones you'd heard about most often, his closest friends, and as he introduced them, you couldn't help but play back the stories he'd told you in your head. You'd obviously met Hercules -- he was the one who introduced you to John in the first place -- and Alex had dropped by your apartment a number of times, so you'd slowly familiarized yourself with him. However, everyone else's names immediately triggered a word association. Eliza: catching the communal microwave on fire -- three times. Lafayette: getting half the staff drunk while working overtime. Maria: serving as the divorce lawyer for one of her co-workers' spouses. The list sure did go on.

They all seemed incredibly friendly, however, so you decided to make nice and not let your aversion to gilded capitalism ruin everyone's night. The things you did for your boyfriend.

And so, you humored John. You met his boss. You stood by while they discussed corporate law, made esoteric jokes that you knew you couldn't begin to understand, and laughed when the group had obviously deemed it appropriate. You hardly left John's side; you didn't think you'd have made it through the night if he'd expected you to socialize independently. There were two things you thought you could honestly say in the night's favor -- John was absolutely beaming as he finally had the opportunity to show you off to his colleagues and friends, which wholly validated your reason for acquiescing to his invitation with little resistance, and the company had splurged on the wine and cheese for which you'd never have been willing to fork over such unholy amounts of cash.

You were careful not to drink too much, wanted to stay as far from the verge of tipsy as you could manage so as not to make a fool of yourself in front of the entire office, but you allowed yourself two glasses of the $600 merlot from the end of the refreshments table. Moreover, you shamelessly loaded up on cheese.

That was the only reason you ever had to steal away from John for a moment. It seemed that few of the employees were going to pillage the snacks, which made it feel all the more like your well-deserved karma for deciding to come, so John only laughed every time you told him you were going back to the cheese cart.

By the fourth time, you were on your second glass of wine, and you squinted at the various variations on smoked brie before deciding exactly how to pick your poison that time around.

"You new here?" A voice came from your right, startling you out of your dairy-induced haze. You turned with wide eyes to see a man standing beside you with a moderately amused smirk. "Because unless you're our transfer from Atlanta, I can't say I've heard about you -- and unlike Beatrice, you don't quite look 57."

You couldn't help your laugh at his playful tone. You gave him a once-over; he didn't fit the description of anyone John had told you about. "I can assure you, I'm not here to steal poor Beatrice's identity," you replied mildly. "I'm actually here as a guest, Mr..."

You trailed off an eyebrow raised. "Jefferson," he supplied, offering you his hand to shake, "Thomas Jefferson."

"Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you." You shook his hand, and something akin to recognition flashed across his face. Perhaps he'd heard about you from John? His crooked grin only grew with that as he drew closer to you.

"So you're here as a guest, hm?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. You nodded hesitantly. "Must not have had a very good host to bring you then, huh? Can't imagine leaving a pretty little thing like you unattended around here."

You raised your eyebrows at that. His sudden confidence was off-putting, and you shifted your weight from one foot to another as you gave him a slightly strained smile. The shift in his demeanor was beginning to make you mildly uncomfortable. "I assure you, I can take care of myself, Mr. Jefferson."

"I don't doubt that, sweetheart." His reply was mildly absentminded as his eyes trailed down your figure, and you took an unconscious step back. When you did, his eyes jumped back to yours as he flashed you a winning smile. "But please, it's Thomas, to you."

"Well, Thomas, it's been nice meeting you, but I think I need to get back to my date." You silently mourned your not having collected any new cheeses, but you were eager to end that interaction. He raised an eyebrow, grin groundlessly smug.

"You sure you wanna do that? I mean, if your date cared little enough to leave you out here all alone in this big office, I think you're justified in findin' other company." He moved imperceptibly closer, but it made all the difference to you. You swallowed. "Besides--"

"Y/N!" You whipped around, on cloud nine when you made eye contact with the source of the voice. You must have looked endlessly relieved, grateful for your savior, your white knight, your Messiah -- not to be dramatic -- but John just looked tense as he approached where you were standing. His smile was clearly forced, and Thomas raised an eyebrow. When he reached you, he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you further away from his coworker immediately. "Jefferson, I see you've met my girlfriend."

Thomas didn't miss the emphasis on the word 'girlfriend.' His eyebrows jumped toward his hairline, and he huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "Your girlfriend, huh?" He looked between the two of you, and the tension as he met John's gaze was palpable. He broke it after hardly a second, turning his focus back to you with an irritatingly pitying smile. "Oh, sweetheart, how much is he paying you? Surely, it can't be that much, considerin' how much less John makes--"

"I'm not in this for money, Mr. Jefferson," you said, careful to keep your tone level. Beside you, John's jaw ticked, the pads of his fingers pressing possessively into the side of your waist.

Doubt still drenched his stare, and John cut in. "Not everything can be bought, Mr. Jefferson--" The utterance of his title was mocking, the words closer to a sneer, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stop calling my girlfriend an escort. Watch it."

"Mmh, your loss, gettin' with him. You could be making some good money off of that." He let his gaze wander, never going above your neckline. It was painfully obvious that he was just playing it up to get a rise out of John, but nonetheless, it was working. You heard your boyfriend inhale harshly; his grip on you was getting closer to a vice. Thomas shot you a wink. "Gimme a call if you're ever interested in actually gettin' something out of a relationship, for once."

John scowled; you had to cling to his side to restrain him from tackling Thomas right there and then. His teeth were clenched, his gaze full of unbridled fury. "I swear to God--"

"Baby, c'mon, it's not worth it." Your quiet plea cut him off as you rested a hand on his chest. You could feel some of the tension leave his body. "You're fine. I'm fine. Let's just go, yeah?" He met your wide eyes, and your worried gaze had him forcing himself to cool off.

He shot Thomas one last burning glare before turning on his heel, promptly pulling you as far from his coworker as he could get you. You went with him readily.

He was quiet for the rest of the night. Despite your constant questioning stare and occasional attempts to check on him, voice hardly above a whisper, he just ignored it, waved you away. You didn't stay much longer after that, and the car ride back to your apartment was dead silent. John's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

After you made it home, though, you tried one more time. He threw the keys into the bowl by the door after locking it, and immediately began to loosen his tie, eager to relax and forget about the night.

"John, are you okay?" Though the question was hesitant, your tone was firm, demanding. He reluctantly met your eyes, vexation still brewing near the surface of his gaze. "Talk to me, baby. What's up?"

"What the fuck was that stunt with Jefferson?" The question had your eyes widening.

"'Stunt'?" you repeated, hoping you'd misheard him. "Seriously? He approached me; I just wanted more cheese!"

"You didn't exactly seem to be pulling away," he accused, and you gave a short, mirthless laugh.

"You've gotta be kidding me, John." His expectant expression told you that he absolutely was not, and you scowled. "I didn't wanna cause a scene. I was trying to get away politely. I just... didn't want anything to escalate."

"Some excuse."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on, Y/N." His voice was louder that time, and it was tinged with genuine anger. He took a step toward you, looming over you as he began to close the space. "You've never cared about being impolite before; don't expect me to believe you're suddenly miss proper. You were just enjoying the attention."

"This was my first time around your colleagues! At your office!" you protested, standing your ground.

"You don't give two shits what corporate employees think about you!"

"But you do." The truth behind your words was what made him bite his tongue, not the urgency in your tone. Tentatively, you closed the small gap between you, reaching up to rest your hands on his shoulders. "John, I didn't wanna make a scene because I didn't wanna embarrass you. You were so excited to bring me there and have everyone come see me, and I knew how much tonight meant to you." He looked down at you with his eyebrows raised. Much of the tension in his shoulders had melted away at your touch; his eyes held no hostility as they met yours, and his hands ghosted across your hips. "I just wanted you to be happy, baby."

He wrapped an arm snugly around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he brought his other hand up to smooth your hair back, away from your face. His frustration had been replaced by a tiny, playful smile. Slowly, he moved forward, and your eyes widened as you stumbled in his grasp; it only took him a moment to back you into the kitchen counter. "Fucking Jefferson has no idea what he's missing out on."

You smiled, pulling yourself up to him to rest your forehead against him, to look him in the eye. "And he never will."

-----------

You both woke up late the next morning, exhausted and disinterested in leaving your bed. You weren't surprised; you'd ended up having a late night. You groaned at the sunlight streaming through your window as your eyes fluttered open, trying to bury yourself in John's embrace. He breathed deeply as he held a hand to the small of your back, dipping down to kiss you as he stretched, stifling a yawn.

"Morning, baby," he hummed, fatigue sitting heavy in his voice. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," you groaned, and he chuckled. You glared playfully up at him.

"You complaining?" he retorted, raising a teasing brow, and you didn't bother to hide your grin.

"Never." You kissed the tip of his nose. "But John?"

"Mmhmm?" His forehead creased, and your smile only grew at how unnecessarily concerned he looked.

"As hot as it is seeing you jealous -- and it is, ridiculously hot, actually -- did you really have to give me so many hickeys?" The words came out as a whine, and he laughed as he eyed your pout.

"I dunno, babygirl," he began, rolling over so you were on your back and he was propped up on his arms above you. The wistful regret in his voice was dramatically phony. "If last night told me anything, it's that you can't seem to keep the men away, no matter where we go." He paused, shrugging. "Not that I blame them. Look at you."

He dipped down to kiss your neck with that, and you huffed. "John. Promise you've given me enough hickies. You can stop."

"I like seeing 'em," he said, smile growing as he looked proudly down at you. "Besides, if the world needs a reminder that you're mine, you had better bet that I'm not gonna hesitate to give it to them."

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pinkgirl94 · 3 years

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Investigation of Dazai's Dangerous Dating - Part 1

Hi! As you guys can see, this is my second BSD fanfic & I wanna write something laidback or, to be precise, what if the members try to investigate their colleague's shenanigans. Hope you enjoy reading it!

Bright blue sky. The sun shines above the clouds. A ship blew its horn, signaling its presence. Busy streets around the city. These are the signs of the normal and peaceful port city, Yokohama. That is what Atsushi thought.

“Today’s another pleasant day, right Kyoka-chan?”

“Yes,” replied Kyoka in her usual nonchalant way.

Atsushi and Kyoka were on their way to their workplace, the Armed Detective Agency. They reached the building, went inside, and took a lift to the fourth floor. After reaching the floor, they headed towards the detective agency’s door. As Atsushi’s hand reached and turned the doorknob, this was what their usual routine looked like.

“Good morning, every-”

“Kunikida-kun, look around. We’re finally in the underworld! Isn’t it amazing? A flying pink elephant, waterfalls pouring upward to the sky, strange-looking trees with lollipops grew out… an incredible place, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” replied Kunikida with his usual stern look while focusing on his work.

What Atsushi saw is his senior Dazai spouting nonsense about the view of the underworld while standing at his table.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” Both Kyoka and Kunikida greeted each other normally, ignored Dazai’s shenanigans like a ghost.

“Um… what happened to him?”

“You know what it is, Atsushi. The usual.”

“Another suicide attempt?”

Dazai’s suicide attempts never stop. No matter where at or in any situation, he tried them all the entire day nonstop. He sometimes lazy or never coming to work according to his feeling. Kunikida tried to make him a proper working man but failed. In the end, he lets him do whatever he wants as long as his works were done.

“Though you thought that way, this is a bit different. Look at his book.”

Atsushi goes to Dazai’s table and took a book. He reads the content and found out about the types of poisonous mushrooms. There are various kinds of lethal ones that should never eat. The picture of the mushroom he reads right now, however, looks a bit different from the one he bit.

“A delusional mushroom type?”

“Yes, though he knew since he did the same two years ago.”

“Then why did he eat it again?”

“He said something about confirming whether the vision he saw the other day was real.”

“What…”

Dazai turned his head towards Kunikida. His delusional eyes became wider as he found something valuable.

“Would you look at that? A giant golden bug! This will cost an enormous fortune if I sell it. Atsushi-kun, help me catch it.”

“Wait, Dazai-san! That’s not a bug. It’s Kuni-” Dazai made a sudden jump at Kunikida, who he thought was a golden bug. He was about to get strangled, but his hand quickly grabbed his shirt collar.

“This giant golden bug wants you to shut up and stay down!!!”

“UWAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”

Kunikida easily threw Dazai up and floating until he pulled him down hard. Dazai was no longer in the underworld as he finally returned to reality. But what Dazai was looking at right now the world is spinning around, finding it difficult whether he is back or transported to another world. Finally, he knocked out.

After that, the entrance door opened. Three young people are coming in for reporting their duty. They then greeted everyone in the office. Atsushi turned around and found the familiar faces.

“Oh! Tanizaki-san, Naomi-san, Kenji-kun, good morning.”

Those people are Tanizaki, his sister Naomi and Kenji. Tanizaki found Dazai lied on the floor. So he asked Atsushi.

“Atsushi-kun, what happened to Dazai-san? Why is he sleeping on the floor?”

“Well, Kunikida-san threw and knocked him down because of his usual attempt. He’s going to be like that for a while.”

“I see…”

“Kenji, go tied Dazai up and put him in the storage room.”

“All right!” said Kenji with a smile as bright as the sun. He then really did what Kunikida ordered as if it is a normal thing to do. Dazai, though unconscious, keeps blabbering about the things he saw from his hallucination. The door slowly closes as the darkness comes, leaving him from the bright world to repent his blunder.

Soon after that, Yosano comes, followed by Ranpo. All the employees returned to their seats and continue their work. Kunikida and Yosano started looking at today’s works and revising previous requests. Atsushi, Tanizaki, and Kenji looked up their emails and files for any recent case. Ranpo just sat on his chair, takes out his snacks, and eat them. Others like the clerks were ready to receive calls from the clients and make arrangements.

Time passed by in a flash, and lunch break starts. Atsushi and the others go out of their office and took a lift down to the ground floor. When they step out of the building, the sun is already above them. So bright, but also hot at the same time. There was no cloud to be seen. Just the clear blue sky along with the sea breeze. They headed towards a door that has a sign written ‘Uzumaki’ hanging above and swung it.

As the bell rings, the members entered a familiar venue. The aroma of coffee floating around the entire place along with jazz music. A set of antique coffee makers displayed on the table. The classic-themed interior designs, both the furniture and walls.

The cafe was the agency’s favorite spot to relax. Not just because of its delectable food, but they enjoyed drinking the finest coffee made by the cafe’s manager who has many years of experience in making coffee.

“Welcome! Take any seat you like.” The person who greeted the members was Lucy Montgomery. A former Guild member and currently working as a part-timer.

Everyone chose two tables right beside the window. They then started ordering their food and drinks. Later, they started their lunch after the food was served.

After the members finished eating, Lucy approached them, wanting to ask something.

“I wanna ask you guys. What’s with the ruckus at your office this morning?”

“Oh, that? It’s Dazai-san’s.”

“And he’s…”

“Stayed inside the storeroom for a while. That must have been disturbing you and other staff members working here. Sorry about that.” Tanizaki and Atsushi both bowed down for their apology.

“Well, there’s no need for it since it’s his usual high jinks but…”

Lucy put a bunch of letters on the table. Her hand was holding them for a while. The senders were from various women and they were all for Dazai.

“We usually get those whenever the women came here.”

“We usually get those whenever the women came here. It's fine, by the way, since we can send them to you guys. But there're a few problems.”

Atsushi got curious about what could it be regarding Dazai and his habit. The members knew him a lot, from his approach towards the women, his smooth-talking, to his peculiar relationship with them.

"At one time, one woman came here and waited for Dazai, but then, another one appeared for the same reason as the first. Those two got into a fight after they noticed it."

"That must've been hard on you, Montgomery-chan."

"Oh no. There's more. Remembered that last week a crazy woman made her attempt something crazy and shouted in front of this building?"

"You mean that time..."

The woman carried a knife for threatening Dazai to date her and her only. It was chaotic.

Among many women he dated so far, some of them were already broke up and never seen each other again. But there are also some are a possessive type that they brought a great pandemonium.

"That's why I'm requesting you, as your client, to stop him from dating women. Or else, more women will come here and cause commotions and scare our customers."

"Stopping Dazai-san from dating? Easy for you to say but...." Atsushi cannot find any words to reply that Lucy's request is impossible to fulfill and does not want to sound rude.

"Listen, Lucy. I respect your demand of wanting Dazai to stop dating to prevent ruckus done by the women he dated. The problem is that Dazai's a slick man like a snake can crawl through the traps. We previously tried to tie him when he was about to go out but he was gone before we knew. Even if we can put a tracker on him to know where he's going, that guy's smart as if he can read what we're doing to him." Kunikida answered Lucy after he finished his lunch, stood up, and went to her and Atsushi.

"Demand?! I didn't say demand; I request you. Re-qu-est. If you can't do that, then at least investigate why he keeps dating women."

Both Atsushi and Kunikida are in silence for a moment until Atsushi spoke to Lucy.

"Well, we can investigate him but, like what Kunikida-san said, Dazai-san's a very smart person that he will know immediately if we try it."

"You won't know unless you try. You guys are Armed Detective Agency members, right? You're part of an establishment that handles cases that none the police nor military force can handle."

"..."

The jazz music from the LP recorder stopped and fell silent. The scent of coffee almost fades since there is no one else to order it. Thus, begin an investigation of Dazai's date.

#nakajima atsushi #izumi kyouka #dazai osamu #kunikida doppo #tanizaki junichirou #tanizaki naomi #miyazawa kenji #lucy maud montgomery #bsd fanfic #my fanfic #bungou stray dogs

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elmidol · 4 years

Text

Error: Program Not Found - Fourteen (Kind of NSFW)

Summary: You are in charge of programming the droids that work most closely with both General Hux and Kylo Ren. Unbeknownst to you, each of these two men have it in their heads that your relationship extends beyond the workplace. This causes things to escalate quickly when your two apparently secret boyfriends compare notes on their respective partner who is far too similar for their liking.

Read on AO3

Chapters Warnings: some groping/dry humping

Side Note: At the end of this chapter, on AO3 there is a question regarding potential routes for the remainder of this fic. I am personally comfortable with any of the three options I present, but do appreciate people weighing in on this particular aspect.

“Try to be a rainbow is someone else’s cloud.” - Maya Angelou

Fourteen: Analyses

Spending time with the senator had proven to be a surprisingly enjoyable experience due to your being equipped with the poem and the painting as topics of discussion. His mind appeared to have wandered away from the potential TR8-0R project. The budding camaraderie also instilled in you a sense of peace regarding the man; you believed that he would not be so inclined to speak ill of the First Order or overshare on any of the other projects he had helped to finance. This was not to say that you were not mentally taxed by playing nice. His adviser being present had dissuaded you from broaching certain lines of dialogue to include information about your other project. It remained an Ace for another day, possibly during the meeting itself.

Massaging either side of your temple with two fingers, you willed away a small headache that had formed from the prolonged conversation. General Hux would have risen from bed an hour ago, you noted, debating whether you wanted to rest a little first or pursue interaction with him now. As the saying went, there was no time like the present. On top of that, there were less chances that you would be interrupted with the majority of the other officers still asleep or else only then rising for the day.

He was, unsurprisingly, in the community area with a datapad in hand and two others on the table. You valued working for someone with nearly identical work ethics and habits as yourself. With a small smile, you slipped onto the seat next to him. General Hux did not object to your nosiness when you glanced at the datapad that was in his hand. This particular report required minimum clearance. Your interest in the document wavered within seconds. Reminding yourself why you were there, you cleared your throat while setting your hands in your lap, one atop the other.

“Hm?” he grunted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, not at his mediocre acknowledgment of your presence so much as the fact that you felt like a schoolgirl. You were an adult, you had had multiple conversations with the man. Maker, you had kissed him and sexted with him. Why were you nervous now?

I feel like I need to make a choice between them once I know, you realized. You trailed your tongue along your lips and shoved that thought to the side. Regardless, it had to be done. “I think a bigger concern is not the individual themselves but the company they keep.” Only partially cryptic on the off chance that there was surveillance.

General Hux turned his head. You mirrored his actions, locking gazes with him. Those eyes were so deep, you noted. You could not tell if they were more green or more blue. You reached up, setting a hand on his jaw to trace your thumb along his lips. You nearly jumped though you had been the one to initiate contact. His skin was warm beneath the pad of your thumb, his breath offering moisture. Your heart hammered in your chest, in your ears. The increase in contact you had with both him and Kylo Ren, it was scrambling your ability to think. All you could do was focus on them and how it felt to kiss and touch them. To be touched by them.

This is not why I came here, you thought despite the fact that you were even then letting your eyelids descend as General Hux leaned in closer. His nose brushed along yours though he did not kiss you. Your thumb remained on those lips, running back and forth.

“Would you like to come to my room?” You held your breath, your eyes snapping open. Searching his face for any sign that he was teasing or would reveal his full intention of extending the invitation, you quickly learned that he was leaving that up to you. Going into his room did not have to lead to sex. It would offer you more privacy to interact with him, to kiss him if you wanted...or, yes, to have sex with him. You were not quite ready for that step, not until you knew if he was Anonymous or Unknown.

With a hesitant nod, you rose from the seat that you had taken and lowered your arms to your side. General Hux followed suit. He gathered up his various datapads while nodding his head in the direction of his room. You turned to walk in that direction with the awareness that he would follow. The entire time, your mind was racing. Kissing him was not out of the question; stars, you wanted to kiss him now that you would be in a setting where it was less likely to be caught. Bringing up the painting could work, although since you had spoken with the senator about the poem first, that would flow more naturally into a conversation. Mentally rehearsing what you would say to steer the conversation in that direction, you stepped to the side so that he could unlock the door to his room.

Everything was in order; you could not tell if the bed had been made by the maids or by the man himself. It was tempting to ask, however you held your tongue. Your eyes swept about the area to note where he had placed four other datapads. He was, you realized, involved in more projects that you were. Which did make sense if you stopped to think about it. You dealt with droids and programming, whereas he had to hear of those matters alongside stormtrooper and officer training, ships and weaponry, and a multitude of other matters. Each of those required a keen eye to ensure that they fit perfectly into the largest project of all, the success of the First Order.

“The durasteel walls tighten like a cage around you,” you murmured. It had not been intentional on your part to quote the poem in that moment, yet for some reason the words flowed over you as you stood there in the room. You were not thinking of these walls, but of the ones on the Finalizer and the other ships that you had lived on while in service to the First Order. A part of you did enjoy traveling, however now being on planet, you realized that you missed it.

General Hux closed the door after entering the room and walked over to the pile of the other datapads to stack it higher with the ones in his hands. He looked over his shoulder to consider you. “You’re interested in poetry.” A statement. You shrugged while offering a noncommittal noise. His lips pursed forward for a moment. Inwardly, you were pleased with yourself for having gained an answer before you had consciously pursued it; he was familiar with the poem to know that it was a line of poetry you had recited.

“Are you?” you countered, ensuring that your tone was playful. He now smirked at you, openly amused by your flirting. Stars. The realization dawned on you, how comfortable you were to slip so easily into flirting. To be conscious of it. This was happening. You ran your tongue along your lips. “Do you have any favorites?”

The pair of you walked closer to one another. Your mind began to again race, working through what you wanted. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to know if he had sent the art or the poem. You wanted him to pin you down and fuck you. You wanted to wait, afraid of the repercussions. You placed your hands on his chest and tilted back your head, letting your eyes slip closed again. This time his mouth descended upon yours in a kiss that you happily returned. His hands roamed your upper arms before skimming along your chest. You cupped his face, as though doing so solidified that this was real. His tongue danced with yours, exploring you in a way that had you clenching. You shuddered, hands diving upwards and toying with his hair.

General Hux grabbed hold of your hips then pulled you along with him further into the room. You let him push you onto the bed and climb atop you. Wrapped your legs around him, whining into the next kiss and whimpering as he bit gently on your bottom lip. “I enjoy the poems that help me win battles.” You wrinkled your nose at that, delighted that he had answered your question and enthused over the fact that he again sought your mouth with his.

It would be so easy to lose yourself in the moment, however you were not going to allow that skilled tongue, those wonderful lips, to make you forget that you wanted answers. “Paintings?” you asked between kisses. He grunted above you. Pulling away a fraction, General Hux skimmed his nose along yours. His eyes were searching your face. You could not tell if this was confusion; did he not know why you were bringing up paintings, or was it that he was inwardly debating how much he would reveal? You reached up to brush aside strands of hair that had fallen out of place and onto his forehead.

“I do have an appreciation of multiple forms of art.” He was cleverly evasive when it came to potentially handing you the information you sought. Not that this was in any way surprising; as a General of the First Order, he dabbled in politics more often than you did. You rolled your eyes at him in hopes that it would cause him to budge. Instead he only smirked and kissed you. His lips pressed to your mouth, next directly next to it, along your jawline. He made a trail up towards your ear, where he whispered, “I want to see you guess.”

“That is rather frustrating, I must say,” you huffed out though you were grinning. It was comfortable to be under him like this, more than you had thought it would be. He grunted. “Can I call you by your first name when we are alone like this?” Another grunt, this one an affirmation. “Armitage,” you said, testing how it felt in this more intimate setting and his reaction to hearing it from you. He licked his lips, his pupils momentarily widening. You could feel his entire body responding to you; his hardening cock pressing into your thigh. “I am not...exactly rejecting you, however…”

You trailed off in part because he was already nodding, his expression conveying that he understood. This was proceeding at a faster rate than you were ready to handle due to the amount of players. On top of that, to enter a relationship with him would have an impact on your career, as well as your daily life while you worked for the First Order.

“I never realized how comfortable I was with the two of you.” Armitage did not react to the way that Kylo Ren was brought into the conversation. No insult was taken, for which you were glad. Fingers dancing along the collar of his shirt, you found that it was easy to picture yourself stripping him. “Being safe behind the screen, talking to both of you, not knowing which account belongs to you and which belongs to him…” You moved upwards and kissed him. His mouth was hungry against yours. Armitage’s hands wandered along your body. He was emboldened by each moan and whimper that escaped your. Simultaneous to kneading your breasts, he began to rock his hips into yours. You spread your legs wider then wrapped them around his waist.

You could feel yourself growing wet with each thrust that you met. The way his body rocked into yours had electric heat spiraling through your veins. His breath was hot against your mouth, your throat, through your shirt as he mouthed your breast. You felt his teeth, felt yourself once more clench as your arousal grew. Tears of pleasure were gathering in your eyes, and they could have spilled for a much different reason as a hard knock on the door interrupted the moment.

Armitage pulled away from you, rising and taking a moment to gather his bearings. You ran a hand down the length of your face. Were you disappointed or thankful for the interruption? You were conflicted, experiencing both as you rose from the bed as well. You smoothed out your clothes just as General Hux walked over to the door to answer it. On the other side was a stormtrooper alongside one of the individuals that had escorted your group to the building the day before. General Hux was being summoned to help lay out a timetable for the meeting so that all elements could be discussed without interfering with any other schedules. Neither of the other two seemed to notice you standing there, and General Hux did not wave towards you to draw attention. Instead he headed out of the room. This was not out of rudeness; you appreciated his discretion and internally counted up to a few minutes so that you could exit the room with the lowest possibility of being seen by others.

None of the other officers were out in the community area and Kylo Ren was also absent. There was a pang of disappointment in the latter until you recognized that it would have been more awkward than anything. Approaching him after having just kissed--and groped--Armitage? Your eyebrows rose and you shook your head. It was important that you gathered yourself before speaking with Kylo Ren. With this in mind, you returned to the room that you were sharing with Aelin. He was finishing the breakfast that you’d had delivered for him as you entered the room.

“I spoke with Eddard a few minutes ago,” he said, patting his mouth with the edge of a napkin to get rid of any food that may have clung to him. Aelin gestured to the other chair, which you took while waiting for him to continue. “The TIE for Millicent is fully functioning as a bed; its conversion from one form to the other can use some work. He showed holofeed during our conversation, and if the issue is what I believe it is, that should not take much time at all.” It was rewarding to know that the project was wrapping up. The one downside, in this case, would be less interaction with Millicent. You had grown so fond of her these past weeks.

With a nod of acknowledgment so as not to be rude, you allowed yourself a moment to dwell on that more melancholy thought. As soon as your proposal went through--you were more and more certain that it would--your focus would need to be fully on the anti-procrastination and physical therapy droids. There was also the mouse droid that was awaiting your return in your quarters. Not that you would not find a way to squeeze in some time with Millicent if the opportunity presented itself. It was more that this could not and would not be a priority any longer. You scowled at that, the feelings of conflict refusing to subside. You knew that these were rooted more deeply than just the projects. It had to do with potential relationships.

“I have been compiling notes on what may be best for the physical therapy droid’s body.” From another, you might have worried that the individual was attempting to take lead on the project. With Aelin, though, you knew differently. There was the added fact that his tone held a more inquisitive quality, the man seeking approval. You gave a nod for him to continue. “Obviously we will want to limit how many resources are pooled into it--at least for now, though that may change--however I think your aim is to have it capable of physically assisting the individual if need be.”

“Oh, definitely.” That was an area that you had been toying with numerous routes and had been planning to discuss the matter with Aelin. You loved that he was on top of things. “I want to know if you think synthskin would be useful for their hands.” He hummed and you could tell that he was working through some mental calculations, weighing the pros and cons of this route. You reached forward to pluck up one of the extra rolls. Nibbling, you also started to make more notes in your head that you would later work into the file you had started. These would not be necessary for the proposal, which helped you to not feel so pressured to jot them down immediately.

The pair of you spent the better part of an hour discussing what materials would best serve the physical therapy dorids before delving into differences between them and the anti-procrastination droids. For one, synthskin would not offer much for the latter and thus would be a waste of resources and credits. It was near lunch hour that you broke away with the intention of at last approaching Kylo Ren. Discussing work had helped you to calm, clearing your head in preparation of when you were alone with him.

Though one of the officers and a stormtrooper were in the community room, Kylo Ren was not present. You walked to his room, knocked on the door, and were thankful that he responded, that he was there. The door started to swing open as you were beginning to identify yourself. Wasting no time, you stepped inside and did not feel any surprise as it closed behind you. Kylo Ren was seated on the very end of the bed with his legs crossed. He appeared much as he had in the training room when you had first kissed. The difference here was that he wore all but his outer robes and mask.

“You met with the senator,” he stated, his voice deep as always. It was pleasant to hear, although that was partly due to the fact that he was not your enemy. How did those who opposed him feel when they heard him speak?

Unsure if a response was necessary, you waited a beat before saying anything at all. “I did not have to reveal the other project. I did lie a little about patents… I should have addressed that with General Hux.” Kylo Ren at last looked your way as you said the name. His expression was unreadable, yet his hands were not in fists. “I was hoping to discuss something else.” A single, slow blink. “A painting.” No reaction other than his eyes searching your face.

These men, you inwardly growled. You stepped nearer to him. With gazes locked, a sense of understanding dawned. He knew of the painting yet was on his guard. For what reason, you wondered; it had to be something more personal. Did that mean that he had sent it to you? Or had he simply observed General Hux doing so?

“Part of me wants to come out and ask, to be blunt.” His mouth twitched, his eyes pinching in the corners as amusement visibly flowed through him. “There were moments I thought I could tell who was who. Then I wasn’t sure anymore.” You were walking towards him without having made a conscious decision to do so. You paused inches away from the bed. How easily you could touch him if you reached out. So you did, you set your hands on either of his knees. Kylo Ren did not shy away from your touch nor reject it. “You each picked something the other would know about. Like a blind reaction. No bias from me because I don’t know the sender.” You leaned forward, your face in his. “I really, really do not like being tested.”

“They haunt you. The poem and the painting.” It was irksome, that he found so much humor in this. You fought off the childish pout that wanted to form. Of all the things that could have been sent, art felt the most intimate to you. To blatantly ask which he had sent, he could reject you. On the other hand, if he obliged, that was equally intimate. A willingness to bare more of himself to you without the guise of a datapad screen. You stroked his legs. Gaze dropping to where your hands touched, you let yourself sigh and relax into the moment. “We became more human to you this way.” He had managed to hit the nail on the head.

It had not been difficult to be mad at them for their mistakes or to pull yourself out of the moment before. You had felt awkward yet not exactly guilty for having kissed both of them. Now? The idea that you would have to fully reject one or the other...or both.

“I want to hear your guess.”

It was a kind way for him to make a demand of you. There was the option to deny him the satisfaction, at least until you were again behind a datapad screen. Kylo Ren placed his hands on your hips in a loose hold. You could shrink away from him if you had wanted, except that was the opposite of what you wanted. With a sigh, you instead leaned closer and pressed your mouth to his. The kiss was softer than any that you had shared with General Hux. It was as though Kylo Ren recognized and acknowledged how the tables were being turned, that you were now the one in a more vulnerable position.

“You can smirk, but don’t laugh at me if I am wrong.” It was simultaneously a request and a demand. Kylo Ren instigated the next kiss, this one more forceful, more hungry. You melted against him. One of his hands went to the back of your neck while the other groped your rear. You felt your body responding to him, to his touches, to his hot mouth. With a shudder, you climbed into his lap then let him roll you onto your back.

“Tell me.” That deep voice dropping to a whisper. You nodded without immediately obeying. His mouth was at your throat. Teeth and lips and tongue all assaulting you. “Which one?”

“From you?” you asked. A deep inhalation and widened eyes. He had slipped a hand up into your shirt to toy with your nipple, rolling it with two fingers. “Uhm… I had debated the poem because Force users were always said to study a lot, to read and write.” Another nip at your throat before he began to suck at the captured flesh. You curled your toes and swallowed thickly. “Er… The painting, though…” Trembling, you closed your eyes and licked your lips. Allowed yourself a second to drown in the sensation of his mouth claiming you. “The eyes stuck out to me as being something from you. The way you’re so closed off with what you wear like the woman in the painting. Trying to figure out if she is life or death. It reminds me of your role in the First Order.” A sigh from you as he paused in his kisses. “That’s when the poem felt like General Hux. The durasteel walls of the machines, the bases he’s on. Arkanis doesn’t necessarily have green like Naboo, but it’s different. And it felt more like something internal. Closing himself off to others. This sounds so stupid, Maker.” You placed both of your hands over your face, hiding it. “Are you going to tell me if I’m right or wrong?” you asked after a delay. Lowering your hands, you looked down at him and discovered that he was watching you. Once more his expression was unreadable, the man on his guard.

Kriff...was I wrong? Worse still… If I got it wrong, is he insulted?

You sucked your lips into your mouth and waited for him to say something, anything at all.

#kylo ren x reader #general hux x reader #kylo x reader #hux x reader #kylo ren imagine #general hux imagine #errorpnf

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mxillusion · 4 years

Text

Now focus on me.

➝ genre/warnings: fluff I guess? / suggestive

➝ words count: 2100+

➝ summary: You tried your best to avoid him at any cost. You just wanted to somehow move on and never think about him again. What happened was a mistake, a one-off thing and you were absolutely sure it would never happen again. But Yugyeom had other plans for you and you soon had to realize there was no escape.

At a hurried pace, you made your way through the hallway. You didn't pay any attention to the people around you as you slightly bumped into one of them. Without looking up, you mumbled a silent apology even though you didn't care. You just wanted to reach the elevator before it closed its doors, and you had to take the stairs to the 8th floor. You were way too late already.

"Please wait!" you crowed, hoping someone would stop the elevator's doors before closing.

And someone did.

"Thank y-," you paused as you saw who was standing inside it.

It was Yugyeom.

He was eyeing you with a curious look, not saying anything. A smug grin formed his lips, and, for a moment, you considered taking the stairs. And probably you would, but since you're already pretty late, you had no other choice but to go inside. You couldn't allow yourself to waste any more time.

You exhaled as you entered the elevator without saying a word. You’d hopefully reach the 8th floor before Yugyeom could say or do anything, and even if he'd dare to talk to you, you could ignore him. And you would.

So you turned your back on him as you watched the doors closing, and you could already feel his eyes on you. A shiver ran down your spine as you thought of it, but you managed to pretend like you didn't care. At least that's what you thought.

For a short amount of time, the only sound you could hear was the low music coming through the boxes above you. But then, of course, he started talking, no matter how bad you wished he just wouldn't.

"So, you not even say hi?"

You sighed. "Hi."

He tilted his head, still the same smug grin on his face. There was no doubt you didn't want to be in here and, even if he had to admit it somehow hurt him, he was glad to see you again nonetheless. He knew it would be only a matter of time since you two worked together, but he wasn't sure when he would have the chance to talk to you in private again.

"Listen, I just wanted to say that ~," he mumbled, but you stopped him by interrupting him as you turned to face him.

"Don't. We said we'd never talk about it again. So, please."

Yugyeom raised a brow at you before he slowly shook his head. "No," he said, taking a few steps towards you, "you said we shouldn't talk about it, but I don't remember agreeing."

You exhaled out of frustration, turning your back on him again to check on which floor you already were. The 3rd. Why the hell did this stupid thing had to be so slow?

That's when an indescribable noise sounded, closely followed by an eruption. And then, the display turned black.

Panic rose in your body as you realized what this had to mean. The elevator got stuck. Now, of all times. With him.

"Fuck," you heard him curse behind you.

You looked at him in full panic mode, desperately trying to calm down again. That was neither the time nor the place to have a mental breakdown, especially with him by your side. He didn't need to see how you'd freak out now.

He examined you for a second before he quickly approached you to try to pull you into his arms, but you pushed him away before he could do so.

"Get the hell away from me," you barked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Yugyeom raised his hands to demonstrate he wouldn't try to touch you again. "I just wanted to help..."

"I don't need your help," you said while you tried to trigger the alarm. But the god damn button didn't seem to function accurately. You pressed it several times until you finally heard a female voice speaking to you.

"Hello? We're two people stuck in here, can you please send someone to get us the hell out?"

"I'll send someone as quick as possible, please stay calm and don't panic. We'll get you out of there in no time!" the voice said while you secretly glanced at the tall frame next to you.

And then the speakers turned silent, leaving you and Yugyeom to yourselves again.

Fuck. Why the hell didn't you take the god damn stairs instead of entering this stupid elevator where he was inside? You could've been on the 8th floor already, laughing about him being stuck in here all by himself. But now you were in here together, and there was nothing you could do about it right now.

"I'm sure they'll be here any second," he said, trying to help you calm down. He had no clue that you're more freaking out about the fact that you're stuck in here with him, instead of being stuck in general.

"Yes. And until someone's here, we'll sit down and shut the hell up, okay?"

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. "So, you wanna sit there, avoiding any possible conversation, instead of talking to me?"

"You betcha!"

"You know you're acting childish, don't you?"

Angrily you snorted. Yugyeom was younger than you but, right now, it wasn't him who acted immaturely. And you hated to admit that he was right.

"I don't care."

He sighed before he shook his head all over again, and he was wondering why you acted like that. Of course, he knew what this was about, but he had no idea why you're so ignorant about it now. And, if he had to be honest, he felt deeply hurt even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Do you always kiss someone just to run away right afterward?"

Your heart skipped a beat by the mention of that kiss, making you gulp. Your palms got sweaty as you unwillingly replayed that scene in your mind's eye. It felt like you'd kiss him all over again, and your body was going crazy about it, just like the last time.

"Wait. I kissed you?" you panted, jumping back on your feet again.

Yugyeom chuckled as he softly nodded. "Yes, you did. I was the innocent victim in this scenario." He couldn't help himself. In this second, it was way too much fun to bug you about it.

"You and innocent?"

He laughed again, obviously amused about how you reacted to all of this. He didn't even care who kissed whom he just wanted to repeat it. Right here, right now.

"You wanna do it again?" he asked, biting his lower lip while looking at you.

In shock, you just stared at him. What the hell did he ask? You had no idea how this could happen in the first place, but somehow it did. If you had to be honest, you felt attracted to him the second you first laid your eyes on him, but as soon as you found out he was younger than you, you tried to get him out of your head again. Maybe this wasn't a big deal elsewhere, but here at your workplace, it was. And the fact that you actually had to work together made it even more complicated.

But you learned he was very kindly, especially when he was with you. Maybe because he liked you back, but you tried not to think about it. Truth be told, this only worked until this fateful day. You had been the last ones inside this building, and you simply wanted to take the elevator together. It was no big deal. But something changed as soon as you were in it. His eyes grew a little darker as you looked into them again. It felt like they would eat you up. Then you approached each other pretty quickly, and the next thing you knew is that you felt his lips on yours.

By the memory of that feeling, you bit your lip while you glanced at him again. A part of you wanted to repeat that, but something was trying to prevent you from doing so.

You quickly looked away, as you realized Yugyeom was looking at you with hooded eyes all over again. There was no doubt that he was thinking the same, but you had to control yourself this time. No matter what.

"Don't," he said, coming a little closer again. "Just look at me."

Your heart was beating faster and faster with every passing second. This strange feeling lingered, and there was no way to get rid of it again.

"You can't leave anyway," he breathed, stopping right in front of you. "It's just you and me in here."

You could almost feel him. And it was driving you insane. You wanted to touch him, feel him, kiss him. But you didn't make a move, nor did you dare to look into his eyes again.

It felt like your heart leaped out of your chest. Yugyeom's scent was ever-present, and it was clouding your mind. He was peering down at you, hoping you'd finally raise your eyes to him again. He wanted to get lost into your beautiful eyes again like he always did. Why the hell didn't you let him kiss you?

"Don't hesitate, look straight into my eyes," he whispered as he slowly reached out for your chin to make you look at him.

Hesitantly you glanced at him again, just to freeze right on the spot. All the hunger and longing in his gaze made it impossible for you to make a move. You just stood there, staring directly into his eyes.

Yugyeom made the last step towards you, and that's when you felt the metallic wall in your back. There was no escape anymore. You wanted to run away, hide, and just never see him again. But this wasn't an option. It never was.

You felt his breath on your lips, and they automatically caught your full attention. Your eyes were fixating them, and he noticed instantly.

"You want this, don't you?" You heard his voice from far away since his touch was distracting you and keeping your mind busy. One of his hands was on your waist, the other placed on the wall next to your head.

"I know you do," he whispered as he dipped his head. His soft lips brushed over yours, and you quietly moaned against them. He chuckled again, internally enjoying your reaction much more than he probably should.

Your eyes were already closed while you waited for him to do it finally. You wanted it so bad because, at this point, your brain wasn't functioning decently anymore.

His lips ghosted over your face, around your mouth, and down your neck. Yugyeom was playing with you, and you loved and hated it at the same time.

And then, finally, he did it. He kissed you as tenderly and endearing as he did the last time, and again it took your breath away. His lips felt so soft and warm and tasted so damn sweet.

Your hands moved up his torso, and you could feel his body under your touch before you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down to you. He deepened the kiss as you let your fingers run through his soft hair to mess it up even more.

Yugyeom's hand reached out for your leg to wrap it around him so he could press his body closer against yours. You could already feel what all of this did to him and his body, and it drove you insane.

He let up on your lips to kiss his way down your neck just to leave marks on it, making you moan all over again. For a moment, you forgot where you were as there were only him and his kisses all over your upper body.

That's when you heard that indescribable noise from earlier again, and Yugyeom immediately let go of you, to take a look around.

"Seem's like the elevator is working again," he mumbled against your lips. With a last peck against them, he slowly let go of you again just to take a closer look at you. Your hair was messy, your lips were swollen, and your breath was unsteady. You looked stunning in this state.

You somehow tried to adjust your clothes and your hair because you suddenly realized where you were again. At work. And the god damn day had just started. How should you handle all of this when you had to concentrate on work for the next few hours?

With a ping, the doors swung open again, and Yugyeom was walking through them. "See you around," he said with a slight smirk on his face before he left the elevator and disappeared around the next corner.

What the hell did you just do?

#got7 #yugyeom #kim yugyeom #yugyeom scenario #yugyeom imagine #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom fluff #got7 scenario #got7 imagine #got7 fanfic #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #fluff

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jemej3m · 5 years

Text

herein, i shall be more myself.

my new royalty au that i have been throwing around for a while now! if u like prince and pauper styled shenanigans, this is for u. also, thank you @foxy-exy for betaing for me!!!!!!!!!!! bless your soul

read on my ao3! below is just the first part ;;;)

Once upon a time, there was a fine young prince by the name of Nathaniel Abram Wesninski. Little did those of the royal courts, neighbouring kingdoms, or even his relatives know, that by night, the young man—almost eighteen and on the precipice of maturation—went by the name Neil Josten.

A commoner’s name, indeed. He would flip up his hood and clamber down the tresses that crawled up the brick faces of his tower, creeping through his father’s roses as he snuck towards the palace’s boundaries and escaped into the shadows.

It was incredibly dangerous behaviour, of course: a Crown Prince would earn high amounts of ransom money, especially as he was his father’s only living heir. He wasn’t sure that he wanted the title of the Wesninski Prince, but it was bestowed on him from birth, and carved into his skin every day that he lived as the target of his father’s ire.

If only his mother was still alive to shield him from his father’s cruelty, but fate had her sickened by disease till she rotted away in her bed. Nathaniel had been merely ten years old.

It was the fiery insubordination she always nurtured in her heart that had him act in defiance of his father. It was the adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he escaped the castle’s grounds that liberated him, and he always found himself sprinting down the hill, cape frolicking in the breeze.

If he was brave enough, he’d turn around and never look back. His fear of his father was too great, and his ability to survive on his own too weak for him to consider escaping for good. He could just imagine the fury scrawled across his father’s brow. The scars across his back always ached when he imagined the way his father would react when he knew of Nathaniel’s behaviour.

When he was outside the palace walls, he did his best to detach himself from that aspect of his life: he was no longer Prince Nathaniel. He was just Neil Josten, the peasant. Neil Josten, the common thief, the rapscallion, the nobody. He was whoever he wanted to be, and that was the greatest gift that the kingdom could grant him.

Of his acquaintances, of whom he’d met whilst snooping around the Palmetto slums, Andrew was certainly his favourite. He manned the bar of a decrepit tavern, aptly named Eden’s. His brother studied medicine with the local apothecaries, Abigail Winfield and Katelyn Mellark, whilst his cousin ran a small orphanage on the edge of Palmetto with his husband. Neil thought Andrew was lonely, but the man seemed averse to any form of socialisation, including Neil’s.

Neil, often overwhelmed by the overbearing nature of Eden’s patrons, found comfort in the quiet aura Andrew maintained, watching him smoke his pipe when he wished for a moment away from the tavern’s hustle.

Sometimes he thought about telling Andrew the truth. Telling Andrew who his father truly was. The man valued honesty above anything else, so Neil feared if he ever revealed his dishonesty, Andrew would never look him in the eye again. There would never be the secrets, exchanged under a blanket of stars, or the warmth found in a tin roof after the sun had set on a summer evening when they laid down and gazed at the lingering clouds.

Andrew was incredibly intelligent, worthy of a scholarly position within the village’s archives. Neil wanted that for him: he wanted Andrew to excel and live comfortably. After all his troubles, it was most deserved.

Escaping the palace’s boundaries gave Neil a distinct appreciation of how he could change the way his father ruled Baltimore when he finally received the crown, but that would only happen if he didn’t get himself killed in the process. Sometimes that was hard to remember, but creeping through the slums made it all the more prevalent.

Neil clambered up onto the bales of hay on a nearby stable, carefully leaping from rooftop to rooftop till he arrived at the tavern. The lip of the thatched roof allowed him to flip down onto Andrew’s balcony—he lived above his workplace, as most did—and enter via the open window. He was careful not to bruise the soft petals of the chrysanthemums under the windowsill and checked that his boots were not dirty before he went and tracked mud all over Andrew’s rug. With the matches beside Andrew’s straw mattress, Neil lit the oil lamps within the man’s room and let himself be comforted by the familiar glow.

The first time Neil and Andrew met, Andrew had whacked him across the stomach with a fire poker. Neil had fallen to his knees, wheezing as his fingers curled against the cobbled stone underneath him.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t shove this through your eye. What are you doing sneaking around, shadow?”

“Fuck you.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “There are worse things than death.”

Andrew had tugged down Neil’s hood, curling his fingers into Neil’s hair and tugging his head up to look at him. Neil had once feared he’d be recognised, but his father hadn’t let Neil be seen in public since his mother had died eight years prior.

“You’re not wrong,” Andrew had said resignedly. He’d shoved Neil back to the ground and stalked away, glancing over his shoulder only once to say, “Cross me and you’ll regret it.”

Neil smiled. It was a fond memory now.

(the rest is on ao3 its 8k lol i wasnt about to put it all in one post here)

neil in laced medieval cottons and cloaks? more likely than you think

#andreil #royalty au #prince and pauper au #neil josten #andrew minyard #all for the game #the foxhole court #thank GOD this is done #jem writes

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

Infinity War (5)

CHAPTER 5: RAGE

Loki & The Avengers

Summary: A work inspired by @queencfthestarsdrfoster ‘s post of the universe where Loki is alive and Thor is avenged.

Series: Will contain all- and more- that we saw in Infinity War. Will not contain smut and fluff for obvious reasons. Might contain weird humor though.

Chapter content: Something I wish I could’ve done to them through the screen

Warnings: …blood. Icky. gooey, blood. Magic.

Word count: So my workplace shifted again. It’s...okay. Yeah, that’s it. Just okay. I mean partially it’s on me for not taking breaks and just keeping myself busy because I just cannot sit free, man. I can’t. And then by the time it’s 4pm I am exhausted as fuck and have to just keep it together till I can find my way out. Why am I like this? But I have to say, it kinda lifted my mood when I thought about my new radiant friend.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

Ebony Maw doesn't believe in violence of the mind. He does not believe one needs to boil one's insides just because some petty creatures with no real destiny in this universe have made a feeble decision of taking what is rightfully his master's.

Their death would be a small price to pay for the delay they have caused in me helping the Titan fulfil his destiny.

The periodic bloop on his ship's radar brings him to a rough terrain that is being tormented by the fresh blanket of snow piling over it. The winds are showing no mercy as they hit the transparent shield of his ship, illuminating the collision spots with a hue of gold and blue. How fascinatingly dull, this planet Earth, Maw coos to himself before landing his ship and walking towards the entrance.

Much to his surprise, he does feel a shiver through his adequately armoured body as the raging winds seem to be coming at him with impure intentions. And so, a tsk under his breath is followed by modestly twisting his hand to create an air barrier around him, keeping those vicious microscopic ice shards away.

The crunch of fresh cold powder under his feet is somehow welcoming to the symphony of havoc he plans on bringing to the ones who slipped through his hands. To the ones who do not have pure intentions for the infinity stone in their grasp.

There is a ripple he feels from somewhere behind him, tilting on one limb and taking a gentle swerve as an icicle misses him by centimetres. No time is wasted to pull that very icicle from the air and turn it around to throw it in the direction it originated from. And while that icicle travels back, snow is raised from the ground to be compressed into more. Those stubborn steps do not retreat as icicles find their target, only coming to a halt when those piercing eyes see for themselves Loki's figure lying in the snow, struggling to breathe.

Those piercing elements of snow have found all the vital points over the God's body, not surprising the Child of Thanos.

"You are supposed to be dead Asgardian," Ebony declares with a soothing yet eerie tone, his stature never faltering even as he looks down at the body writhing in pain, "you should stick to being dead."

Green eyes drowning in pain look up at him; same eyes he had once drained all hope out of. Such powerful techniques of purification were wasted on such frivolous being that day.

"But..." Loki struggles with the pain surfacing on his face, "b-but I'm not the one who's-"

It takes just one slight shift of Maw's posture. Just a single tilt towards Loki to hear what the dying alien has to say. And just as he does, a streak of blazing fire takes the master of torture with him, leaving Loki to complete his sentence, "-dead," before disappearing with hues of gold and green.

The snow feels harder on the skin than it looks, almost making Maw grunt. He thinks he misses the punch from the man clad in iron he thought he had left behind, but the hit to his skull sends a blaring pain, unbalancing him for a few seconds.

"Told you earth was closed, you dipshit!" Tony's voice resonates through the suit.

Maw feels the rising bitterness grind between his teeth before he slides away from another punch and sends ice shards towards Tony followed by a rumble under his feet.

"What the- is he trying to bring an earthquake?" Tony rises in the air to dodge the attacks coming his way.

The claws which are targeting the ground seem to be the epicentre of the rumble- focused on ripping the rocks lying somewhere under that blanket of pure white- feel themselves being wrapped by a stringed glow that yanks those arms, disrupting whatever power Maw possesses to move the elements around him.

"You really should get a hobby."

Maw knows that voice too well.

The magician.

When the supreme torturer tries to wrap the enchanted magic strings around his arms to pull Strange towards him, the latter moves his hands to convert those strings into handcuffs, freeing himself to create three more elemental circles and call forward blasts of pure energy aiming at his could-be tormentor.

Ebony dives away, calling forward more shards to break him free of those cuffs, taking the first chance his hands get to call up the already cracked rocks to target the sorcerer.

The first one is missed. The second is dodged. The third is barely tackled by his magic. The fourth one gets him. So does every other boulder that comes flying his way.

Strange is surrounded with boulders from every side, all of them aiming to crush him where he stands. While he is trying to protect himself- and the fate of the universe wrapped around his neck- he doesn't notice the slithering pieces around him, too wrapped up in fear as the rocks finally close in on him with a thunderous rumble breaking the air on their collision.

"Strange!"

No one knows where that cry comes from as clouds of dirt and smoke hide the point of impact; the crime scene.

Ebony Maw does not move a muscle from where he stands, his hands clasped on to each other with a watchful look, satisfied with himself.

"You critters should have given up these futile attempts when you had the chance."

His voice has a chill that echoes through the mountains. Even the wind seems to fall silent.

"You picked the wrong people for that intention, Voldey."

If Maw had brows he would have raised them when he turns around to look at a faint glow- a few feet above the ground- rise further. It's only when the clouds of unrest begin to lower the haze does the shadow of something fluttering around that figure comes to light.

How did he-

Every scenario is running through his mind to figure out how that magician escaped, cracking the glass walls of restraint inside him. The smokiness in the air takes its sweet time to reveal the shadow of the figure, the chest lit up in a warm blue glow while the arms rise from either side to mirror that very glow in Maw's direction.

"Light's out, you son of a bitch," Stark announces, already witnessing heaps of ice shards rising from the ground. The cloak of levitation readies itself to protect Stark while a grunt rises from Maw's throat as he changes the direction of the shards to point at Tony. Pulling himself back to gather as much potential, Ebony Maw is about to push them towards the man when piercing noise followed by something sharp jabs him like a thousand needles in the back.

"Now!" Tony shouts at the top of his lungs.

Within seconds a streak of green comes running on the snow- melting it where it touches the cold, cracking the ice till it reaches Maw to surround him in a circle marked with a Nordic enchantment.

Before those beady eyes can make sense of this intricate entrapment surrounding him, the cluster of boulders meant to kill Strange break with a crackling sound to reveal the Sorcerer Supreme clad in the Iron Man suit, his hands ready with burning rings that are fired at the tormentor, cuffing him while merging with the Nordic circle of magic, trapping his limbs.

It is unreal; the scream that leaves Maw's throat. The menacing cry is not for the pain but the pride that has been marred by humans and the God that is on one knee, keeping his magic strong and his eyes on the one who tried to take his light away not too long ago.

"YOU WILL ALL DIE! YOU WILL DIE THE DEATHS OF ROTTEN SWINE CRAWLING WITH MAGGOTS ALL OVER YOU! YOU WILL ALL WHINE BENEATH MY FEET!"

Stark and Strange walk towards the creature who roars while on his knees, their armours being exchanged without a word, looking at the dull alien yanking at the illuminated golden and green chains holding him down.

"Oh you coward," Maw hisses at Strange before turning to Stark, "using a shrewd God to capture me? Do you not know the likes of him? His silver tongue has a purpose. A purpose to fulfil his means. Once he is done you lot he will throw you to the black holes and move on to someone more powerful. He only fends for himself. I know because I have been inside his brain. His darkness eats him alive and soon it will eat you all!"

A huff of air leaves Tony's lungs when he shares a look with Strange. Their lungs slowly come back to ease. Their shaking hearts have found solid ground. Their doubtful eyes now look in the direction of the figure walking towards them, its hands illuminating green with an increasing density.

"They see through you, Asgardian!"

All the rage collected on Ebony Maw's forehead wants to launch at the God walking in his direction in any way it can find. But that rage seems to come to a standstill when it sees the figure emerge from behind the fog; concentrating on those lines running up and down the blue skin that is too flawless to belong to a mere animal. The rage resting on Maw's forehead starts taking a few steps back when it locks its beady eyes with the red that sears through his very soul.

"You're wrong, Maw-" Loki comes to stand right outside the glowing circle keeping his punisher captive- "they do not see through me."

A flick of Loki's wrist and the chains are pulled into the ground, making a reluctant Maw bow down to get them back up.

"They cannot see anything."

Maw tries to but he cannot break his gaze from those eyes carrying the colour of blood as they're looking down on him with unspeakable emotions; seemingly blank stare ripping his insides with every drop of volcanic heat leaving them.

"You did not leave much for them to see last time, did you?"

The icy chill from Loki's hand as it wraps around his throat to make him stand and face him with the roles reversed sends poisonous shivers through his existence.

"Don't worry-" Loki whispers too close to him; close enough to make sure he can be the first one in this universe to smell Maw's fear but not close enough for Maw to get his teeth in him. His free hand conjures a four edged dagger glistening with the glow from the snow. "-unlike you, I won't make you wish for death."

The strike is smooth. The blade goes inside his abdomen in one go, puncturing his vital organs with that very strike. Maw does not even feel it; something that brings a smile on Loki's face. "I will make you live death."

The blade comes out, bringing with it the spoils. Black insides slowly spill. This is the first time Maw feels something tickle his abdomen. The itch increases into an unbearable agony and he is trying to clutch to the wound to make that burn stop.

And the blood does stop. The wound heals back, leaving a blue bruise-like stain on that grey skin. The heavy breaths of relief slowly turn into wheezing. The eyes filled with three-seconds of reprieve go wide in horror. The murky, black blood-stained hands turn into claws to rip apart the very skin that healed a few moments ago as the throat breaks into an agonising shriek.

The poison on the dagger has done its job well. It coagulates the blood and regenerates the tissue to seemingly heal the wound but burns the coagulated blood and new fabrication of the tissue to the point that the animal would rather tear its skin apart than have that thing inside it for one more second. And when the freshly healed wound is exposed to the nitrogen in the air, it catalysis the poison to spread further into the body, making that animal a writhing howling mess on the ground.

Ebony Maw experiences the same fate. The shrill screams breaking the air come out for a few more seconds before he has gnawed himself inside out. All that is left of this child of Thanos is the goo its desecrated body lies in.

It does not take a genius to figure out how much thought Loki has put into Maw's extermination; something that makes Stark wonder what had Squidward done to Loki to call for such a gory end.

"Great," Strange snaps Tony out of his thoughts, scrunching his nose at the remains of the grey villain, "one down. How many more?"

"We took down the strategist," Loki announces, sending his dagger back to his pocket dimension, "it should be easy to take down the rest of the...children."

"Great," Tony mentions with a slight groan, "Alexander is dead. Loki's actually a-" he gestures at the Frost Giant, looking him up and down- "a teen girl's dream smurf and I just got a call from Banner telling me Cap met another of these deranged kids.” He groans. “Exactly how I was planning the day to go."

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smitten-miqitten · 4 years

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So, idk if you all remember my Butterflies chapter where Era had a spot of intimacy nervousness, but thanks to a certain delightfully enabling Discord server, it now has a much saucier lemon flavored followup. This is obviously not safe for workplace consumption (But I’m not the boss of you. Live your best life).

Ao3 Link

Butterflies Scattered

"I've made you wait so long, I think it's only fair you get to decide how we start."

"You've done nothing of the sort. You just needed time; I was never in any rush."

"You've still been waiting though, haven't you? Is there nothing you've been wanting to do? Nothing in particular, I mean? Any fantasies… or, or… you know." Era stammered, gesturing vaguely as if the action would account for words she wouldn't utter. "I'd like to do that first, really I would."

So she said, but Cid was of the opinion that bending her over the railing of the Excelsior and having his way might be just a tad bit too rough for Era's first time. So he went with his second favorite fantasy, one of the first he'd ever allowed himself of her, in fact.

"Well then, if you insist", he laughed, scooping her up and plopping her down on one of the ship's benches. She landed with an "eep!"; her eyes growing wide to see him kneel at her knees. "You want to do that?" She asked nervously, face flushing as he kissed his way up her thigh, his hands gently parting her hastily squeezed together legs.

"Very, very much... but it can wait, if you're not comfortable…" Cid noted her furrowed brow and worrying lips.

"No, no, it's not... I want to try, I do… it's just… I can't return the favor." Era sighed, pointing to her teeth, specifically her canines, in response to his puzzled look. "I've been practicing, on...on fruit and the like, but I can't seem to avoid damaging them with my teeth."

She what?

Cid struggled really, really hard not to laugh. She had been practicing? He was flattered beyond words that she would bother with such a thing for him, truly. But the idea of her doing that to various foods was far too comical an image. Giggling lightly despite his best efforts, he said "My darling, I appreciate the concern but I assure you I'm rather more substantial than fruit."

She flushed to think of his substantiality. "Well, sure, I mean... you're certain I won't hurt you?"

"Short of outright biting me, no, I don't think you will."

"That's… genuinely a relief. I don't like this disparity between us, I really don't. I want to be able to make you happy, Cid. So no matter how silly or undignified it is, I wanted to at least make an effort."

"Era.." Damnit, how could he keep up his suave act in the face of something that genuine? Cid knew he was like putty in her hands, turning to mush at her heartfelt admissions. He leaned up to kiss her, hoping she could feel the love he bore for her as keenly as he did. "We could always try for a practical lesson later", he murmured against her lips. "Without the fruit."

"Cid~…" Heat radiated off her skin, his flirtations never failing to get a rise.

At least I’m not the only one turning to mush, he thought. "Only teasing. Though the offer stands..."

She met his lips again to shut him up, clever tongue seeking entrance and being wholeheartedly welcomed. She had grown very adept at this of late, a quick study, kissing him senseless. For a few short moments their roles were reversed, Era holding all the cards, his heart in her hands. But that wouldn't do. Not for what Cid had planned. Her breath caught as his hands wandered back downwards, slipping underneath her skirt, fingertips coming to rest at the edge of her undergarments. Giving her a quick peck on the tip of her nose and a cheeky little grin, he followed his hands to his prize. He would leave the majority of her clothes on for now, while they were on the deck at least; the chill in the Sea of Clouds was fairly biting. He was pleasantly surprised to find she had not worn her customary undershorts, his only obstacle a pair of lovely blue lace pantalettes (clearly worn with him in mind), already quite damp.

He smoothed his thumb back and forth across her waistband, savoring the feel of warm, soft lace on skin, smile only growing. She had no way of knowing this, of course, and he'd never admit to it, but the skirt she currently wore was the very one that originally inspired this fantasy. It had been the first time he'd seen her wear such a thing, her toned thighs the most glorious display.

"Ready?"

She nodded, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, eyes shut tight and face crimson. Cid, perhaps knowing her too well, mercifully did not leave her much time to stew in her shyness, deftly removing her undergarments and setting to work.

Oh! Ohhhh gods...

His tongue was on her now, moving slowly across her folds, every lap culminating in a little flick at her clit, each one sending what felt like sparks throughout her skin. Era tensed at these new sensations, fingers digging into his shoulders and legs attempting to squeeze shut, ultimately thwarted by his firm hold on her thighs. She could feel…. something building in her lower belly. Something warm, each spark further igniting it, her veins filled with fire. She knew what, of course, but never imagined it to feel... anything quite like this.

Seven hells…oh Cid...

Her breath came out in small, stuttered gasps, uttering a muted moan as he found his pace, quickening as if in time with her racing heartbeat. It was so quiet she thought he might not have heard, thought (stupidly) that she might escape the sheer embarrassment of it. That is, until she felt him smile.

A hand flew to her mouth to stifle the noise, but her attempts at modesty were fruitless. Without looking up from his task, Cid merely raised one of his own hands in response. Holding it out as if requesting something, fingers waving in a "give it here" motion, he didn't need words to say what he wanted. Hesitantly, begrudgingly, Era placed her offending hand in his, the cacophony of quiet gasps and moans that escaped her now undampened.

Heavens above and hells below, if this was him out of practice she couldn't begin to imagine what she was in for in the future.

Her hand grasped his tightly, the other fisting in his hair as she neared her peak. At least, she thought she must be, the tension in her belly growing stronger and stronger. Cid gave her thigh a little squeeze, a wordless "stay put, please". His touch left her for a moment, only to reappear at the entrance of her core. Gently he inserted a finger, crooking it juuuust so, making her back arch in pleasure.

He's... trying to loosen it, right? I read about that..I read..ohhhh, I can't! She could feel herself teetering on the edge, an odd image of balancing on a brick wall coming to her mind. She was going to fall. Needed to fall. But it was too soon, he needed to add more for it to work, didn't he? She had to hold on, to be patient, she had… "Cid, I'm sorry, please, I can't...I need...ah!!" Era came with a shudder, body curling around what of him she could reach, clinging to him.

Huh. Her sudden release had caught him off guard, her cry and sharp tug of his hair startling him out of his reverie. So caught up in the act, he hadn't spotted the signs: how firmly she gripped his hand, the rising pitch of her voice, the thrashing of her tail. He hadn't expected Era to be quite so quiet, and assumed he had more time. Not that it matters, he thought, admiring the worn out, blissful woman before him, her glow more than achievement enough.

She relinquished her hold on his hair, a couple strands staying with her, his scalp stinging a bit with the loss. As Cid kissed the inside of her thigh, Era dimly registered how...damp his beard felt. That's strange...wait...oh seven hells. Cid issued a disappointed "tisk" as she buried her face in her hands.

"There's so much, isn't there?" She cringed at the feel of the cool air on her damp skin. Damp. Urgh….

"Era, no, darling, it's fine." Cid hastily wiped at his mouth and beard, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "See?"

The flavor on his lips was odd, not at all like him. "Oh...do I really taste like that? It's... salty, sort of."

"You taste fine, better than fine." He chuckled as she peeked out at him through her fingers, a little smile unmistakable.

"I ruined your master plan, Cid. Finished too soon, you only managed one finger before I…"

"My plan, my overly self-conscious sweetheart, was to get you off. Having achieved that -- spectacularly, I might add -- I count nothing as ruined."

Oh you silly, awful, wonderful man, she thought, pulling him into a languid kiss, tongue dancing with his, her taste mingled with his own. "Thank you."

"'Thank you'? For what?" Cid pulled a dumb face utterly ill befitting his genius.

"What? You know what!" She stuck her tongue out at him, his clueless, teasing facade cracking into an easy smile. "Oh no… Cid, the bench is such a mess", Era groaned, sitting up, again hiding her face in her hands. They hadn't thought to lay down a towel or anything.

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about it. Ever since her upgrade, the Excelsior's been overdue for a rechristening", he laughed. "This should serve".

"I'm not a bottle of wine!" Era chided, bapping him on the shoulder in embarrassment.

"Could have fooled me." Cid countered, waggling his eyebrows. "Now, the chill on deck does make what I have planned next rather difficult, what do you say we head below? While I must admit I'm very keen to get you out of those clothes, I'll not have you freeze in the process."

Era stood, wobbling slightly, steadying herself against his arm. Cid triggered the hatch release, and the pair descended from the chilly deck into the bowels of the Excelsior. Unlatching a portion of the wall, Cid revealed a small foldout cot. He kicked a number of crates and containers underneath it to aid the rather spindly supports, claiming the bed’s legs would not be up to the task. “Not the most comfortable thing in the world I suppose, but you’re the one that picked the Excelsior rather than a proper bed.” Not that Cid would want it any other way.

They set to removing their clothing, or the rest of it, in Era’s case, smalls long since cast aside. Era saw little point in retaining any articles, modesty all but tossed out the window given he’d already become so well acquainted with her most intimate parts, but Cid continued to wear his smalls, perhaps in a gesture to calm her nerves. He also wore his goggles still, which Era proceeded to yank off his head. Damned goofy, to wear goggles during sex, she thought.

Cid was hardly restrained in his appreciation of her form, eyes wandering, drinking in each and every glorious curve. Era too, was guilty, though she tried to be rather more discreet in her admirations, eyes bashfully roaming his glorious musculature. Era adored in particular the fine, silver trail of hair that grew starting at Cid's navel, travelling downwards and downwards. She couldn't help it, it was fascinating. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of it, her own body hair, where there was any, being fine and sparse, the vast majority being on her head and tail. Or perhaps it was simply the implication; the thought of where the trail led, and the heat that arose in her loins in the thinking, that had her so enamored with this particular patch of hair.

He scooped her up, laying her on the cot with care, drawing her into an impassioned kiss, stealing her breath and leaving her woozy before moving to nibble at her ears. Okay, this is a good place to start. They had done this before, albeit with more clothing. This was familiar, comfortable: passionate kisses, bodies pressed together, hands roaming faces and shoulders and hips and...oh. Cid’s fingers caressed the swell of her breast, Era letting out a little gasp of surprise.

Of anticipation.

Sensing no opposition, Cid continued, his palm enveloping it, massaging as his thumb began to stroke her now pebbled nipple.

How heavenly, how...oooh. A familiar want grew, stronger and stronger as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, ever more so as he took its companion in his mouth, his beard soft and smooth and ticklish on her skin.

More, please…

As if he were suddenly a mind reader, Cid obliged, free hand finding her clit, small circles driving her wild. He was cognizant of her tells now, working her far more steadily as he dipped a finger inside. First only one, Era still too tense, still too tight, but so very wet. A second soon followed, crooking, hitting a spot that made her squirm, stars erupting behind her eyelids. He quite liked that reaction; Era could feel him grin against her chest as he repeated the move.

She tried to reach for him, barely thinking through her pleasure, fingers tentatively following the path of silver that led to him, wanting to do something, anything more than take. Cid groaned as she grasped him through his smalls, voice heady and deep, losing pace for a moment. Growing bolder, her hand slipped underneath his waistband, stroking the hardness she found there. Era hadn't the faintest idea what the hell she was doing, but surely it had to be something right, if his heavy breaths and muttered oaths were any indication. She hooked a finger underneath his chin, luring him to her, nibbling at his bottom lip.

She was close again, the pressure mounting, the tell-tale teetering feeling returning with force. Pleasure driving her to distraction, her hold on his manhood faltered, Era losing herself in his ministrations as Cid took her hand. But this, this wasn't how she wanted it. She wanted...

Era started to giggle, covering her mouth in an ill attempt to quell her sudden outburst. Cid looked up, his smile one part amused, one part confused, and one part a bit hurt.

"Era, dear, if you're going to laugh, I do hope you'll tell me what about." He sounded a touch concerned. She patted at his arm reassuringly, wiping the corners of her eyes.

"It's nothing, I just….hahaha...I just had the most idiotic thought. As lovely as this is, I can't bear for you to stop. And at the same time, I need for you to stop. Isn't that mad? It is, isn't it?"

"I think that depends on what you mean by ‘stop’. Have I done something? Are you uncomfortable?"

"No, no, no. I just...I want to move on. I need... I think I'm ready for the next bit."

Cid grinned deviously with understanding. "Oh? I'm not quite sure what you mean, love. 'Next bit?' I'm afraid you'll need to be a touch more specific."

"Must I? Cid…. I would like to...no, that's too crass, I won't say that. I want…"

"Go on…" Cid was kissing a highly distracting path up her neck to the underside of her jaw, lavishing attention there with teeth and tongue. He shouldn't tease her so, but she really did make it all too easy.

"I want you to...to make love to me." She muttered, shyly leaning away from his fervent affections, breathing heavy.

"Didn't catch that. A little louder, perhaps?" He was going to be in so much trouble later.

"Make love to me, dammit!" She griped, huffy and frustrated. Why must he bully her now?

Cid didn't mind in the slightest, enveloping her in his warm embrace. "As my lady commands", he laughed cheekily. "Perhaps it will be easier for you", he said, sitting up against the curved wall of the ship as best he could, "like this." Cid motioned her forward, pulling her onto his lap. "To give you more control of the pace. Then again, she's not exactly got the roomiest hull. You might bump your head…hmmm."

"If I'm careful", she murmured, leaning in close to kiss him just below his third eye, "it...it should be fine, probably. But I... I think I'd rather you be on top. If you're alright with that."

"Of course." Cid lay her gently down on the cot, hands making their way down her sides to rest at her hips, pulling them flush to his. He bit back a moan at the feel of her against him, wet and ready.

"It's just... I'm a bit nervous, is all." Her heart was racing, pulse pounding at the feel of his length against her core, small rolls of his hips sending heat throughout, shivers following the path of his lips down her neck. "I...ah!...I can't...mhmph!"

Whatever it was she thought she couldn't do was lost as Cid claimed her lips, intent on drowning out her worries. If she wanted him to take care of her, he'd gladly do so; it was no failing on her part. Afterall, isn't that what she'd asked him to do?

Shy fingers trailed their way to the waistband of his smalls, pausing then tugging lightly. Cid broke their kiss, searching her eyes. "You're sure?" His voice was heavy with lust, undeniably eager to continue. But he had to be certain.

Era nodded, flushed but unashamed. "Please."

Removing them with haste, Cid lined himself up, Era bashfully looking anywhere but down at where they were joining. He kissed her once more, the ferocity easing her nervous mind as he entered.

He was much too large, surely. Or she was much too small. Era couldn't be sure which, and she couldn't bring herself to care with him kissing her so. There was no pain, thankfully his earnest preparations had seen to that, but Cid took her slowly all the same, giving her body a much needed moment to adjust to him. The stretch was the cause of some discomfort, unaccustomed as she was, but soon gave way to the oddest feeling. Fullness, warmth. With every ilm the feeling grew, and grew more pleasant for it.

"Cid…" she panted, eyes half shut from the overflow of sensation. "Hmmm?" He had hilted, exercising as much restraint as he could muster waiting for her body to relax, his fingers digging into her hips from the effort. "I love you." She took his face in her hands, thumb caressing his lips. "So very much." "Era..." Words failed him. To be here, with her like this after all this time, he wasn't sure if he was more liable to sing or cry. Instead, he decided to show her. Love her in this way, that the depth of his feeling be undeniable. "I love you."

A tentative roll of Era's hips ushered him onward, starting with slow, intentional thrusts, mapping out her pleasure. Though she had little in the way of leverage in this position, Era rose to meet his every thrust admirably, greedy for the contact, savoring the feeling of renewed fullness with each stroke. She wanted so badly to kiss him, to be lost in him, but found it immeasurably difficult to take her eyes off of his beautiful face. He was a sight to behold, her beloved, awash with joy, powerful muscles flexing and glistening with the sheen of their mutual exertion. A curtain of silver shielded them from all the world as Cid rested his forehead on hers, third eye cooler to the touch than his searing skin.

Cid slipped his hand onto the small of her back, arching her ever closer into him, Era's breath catching as his touch grazed the base of her tail, said limb lashing about in answer. Stroking it, Cid found he could coax from her the most delightful whimpers, tenderly caressing the fine silken hairs to call forth even more of her lovely song.

Era, blessedly, was nearing her peak, hands fisting in his hair and clamoring at this back. Cid too, was struggling to hold on. It had been far too long since he had last done this, and she felt far too perfect around him, squeezing tighter and tighter as she neared release. He refused to be first, reaching between them to work her most sensitive spot, leaving her gasping for air. By his touch she was undone, unraveling around him with a soft cry. He followed after her, oaths muttered into the crook of her neck, having resisted longer than he could bear, spilling over into his love.

Spilling.

And spilling.

… on second thought, he probably should have warned her...

Spent, they separated, fighting for air, basking in the afterglow. Their hands met, holding fast as they came down together. Looking over at Cid, Era thought he looked strangely... sheepish. "Era", he panted, "don't look down. It's nothing bad, there's just, there's a lot of… just let me get you cleaned up."

A lot of what? She wondered, a odd trickling sensation answering her. Oh…

Cid rose from the cot wearily, utterly exhausted, rummaging through a nearby storage crate for a couple clean cloths and towels.

"No, I can do it myself, really, just hand me the towel!" She squeaked. She hadn't braved a look, but it was beginning to cool and she could feel it. They cleaned up in an abashed silence, Cid helpfully passing her another cloth when one proved insufficient.

"Cid?"

"Yes?"

"Is it always like this?"

"What? Ah... yes. Usually. Unless I've been.....Yes." His cheeks and ears were rather pink now. He nearly... there were some activities he'd prefer to keep to himself for the moment.

"Then I don't mind the mess."

"Oh?"

"It felt nice, frankly. It's a part of you. Also you're blushing."

"Am not." He was.

"Are." A mischievous grin spread across her face, as if it hadn't been she who was the blushing, stuttering mess not moments ago. "Do you think Vanu or Bismark or Sky Pirates will find us in the next bell or so?"

"I shouldn't think so, why?"

"I'd quite like a nap, if you'll join me." She patted at the cot beneath her, a towel laid over the worst of the wet spots.

"Good gods, a nap would be heavenly." He flopped down heavily beside her with a huff, pulling her onto his chest, promptly falling asleep. Era laughed, soon to follow.

#lemon #cidera #I don't know exactly how to tag this #It's Era's first time ever and Cid's first time with her #She's a bit shy #I hc Garleans as fairly...productive #these two are dorks and I hope I did their first time together justice #idk what I'm doing ever tbh

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flos-timore · 4 years

Text

Send me a 🥃 + a question for my muse to answer. If they refuse to answer, they have to take a shot // Still Accepting!

Anonymous asked : 🥃 Habit, here's a hypothetical question for you. If your Habitat started to go way downhill, but wasn't a lost cause yet, and you had to resort to more extreme and harmful measures to keep your Habiticians in line, what wouldn't you do?

At once, almost on instinct, Habit feels his breath hitch. Was it possible for air to get caught in somebody’s chest? Well, the question hadn’t even been fully processed before everything decided to lock up, on him.

‘Why was that?’, he wondered briefly. Uselessly. In fact, he wasn’t even sure WHY he’d bothered to let himself pull the wool over his own eyes; if even for only a second. He KNEW exactly why his hands balled up into fists, exactly why dread was solidifying in his stomach.

And yet... he had to glance away, towards the balcony. It was just natural, really, whenever anybody mentioned the Habiticians while he happened to be in his office.

Or. Well.

‘His’ Habiticians, as they had so eloquently put it.

The thought made him laugh. He forced himself to hate that fact.

Keeping the smile held tightly on his face, out of a necessity that he hadn’t even realized WAS a necessity, he took a moment to steel himself before walking over to where his line of sight drew him.

His heels clicked along the floor- an unwelcome change to the encompassing silence from just moments before.

--- “Hmmmmm.... You kno... That”s a “Good” question! Where 2 start with that...”

Content warning: Brief suicidal ideation, blood, and mentions of murder/corpses under the cut.

Heights had never been a problem for him. He never even really considered them enough for them to BECOME any sort of issue. While he could understand where the fear came from, for some people, so long as he knew the ground he stood on was relatively sturdy, he could be as high as the clouds and not have any cares in the world.

... Which is why he was confused when he came to a brief pause as he neared the balcony’s edge. Something about the location had begun to set him off, lately..

Perhaps it was the finality that such a fall would be responsible for. To say that he’d never considered jumping would be a lie, but-

He was quick to shake his head- push those thoughts away. Those were for another life. Not this one.

Habit “easily” (why couldn’t it be easy?) settled himself on the railing, eyes trailing down to the fairground below.

--- “What WOULDN”T I do, u said..?”

Maybe he’s stalling, maybe he’s not. You have no proof, as far as he’s concerned.

--- “Well...” He leans down further, practically resting his head on the cold metal. Although his attention darts around as he observes the day’s activity, he registers next to none of it.

--- “I suppose I wouldn’t wamnt them 2 think I”m trying two hard. Peeple tend to “Talk”, U see. Nothing like barb-ed wire or anythign sillie like That. The Habi-Tat is notn’t a Prison.”

Isn’t it?

--- “Perhapbs the “Curfew” wuld need to be much earlier..? I woould need to be patrolling more oftn than usual, that is 4 certain. Surve-a-lance would be “Upped”, also, of cuorse, but I thimnk I wouldn”t need to be TOO mean...”

--- “Even if the Habiticians TRIED to eskape, th Carlas would handel everything!”

Right. The machines he’d created to do his dirty work for him, because Heaven knows that if he had to be the one to subdue fleeing Habiticians, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance.

And not because he worried that he wouldn’t be strong enough! Really, if THAT was the only concern, he needed to only let himself forget just where he was putting his hands, and, well-

No. He disliked having to use brute force- especially when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Call him what you’d like. He can guarantee that none of it would be too far off the mark.

What the Carlas lacked in speed and intelligence, they made up for in numbers. The ones always actively present on the grounds were FAR from the only ones in The Habitat.

Even though this situation was only hypothetical, Habit felt himself smirk, nonetheless; oddly proud of his own genius and security. Normally any talk of unrest among his “guests” sent him into a panic. He just simply would not have it!

Not in HIS domain. HIS creation. If something isn’t working, then!!! He’ll FIX it, and move on!!

But... ah... He had yet to really adequately answer the question at hand... Right..?

--- “..... I”m...”

Something felt- unfinished, here. Did he have more to truly SAY on the matter?

The sounds of Martha were louder than he remembered. He rationalized the reason behind that being his close proximity to her, as anybody would.

It just didn’t make them any less overwhelming, at the moment.

--- “I... don’t think violence is.. nece-ssary.. to maintain the “Peace”, I mean. The way that Im running things right now is good. Yes??”

Habit allows a brief lull to enter the “conversation”- just out of politeness. When no answer comes to his question, he can’t but to feel foolishly disheartened.

Only a little bit, though. Just a teeny tiny bit.

--- “I know this is only a “what if”- I get that. But the question is ridic-u-lous, 2 begin with!1!! Absurd!!!11! This groo-some scenariio will NEVER come two be!! So!!!! Why WORRIE about it!!!!”

And that’s where he INTENDED to quit talking. Honestly, he did. With every second that passed, he could feel the dam begin to break.

No, the topic itself didn’t bring him ANXIETY, per-say....

... but he WASN’T letting his thoughts lead to their obvious conclusion. That was the missing puzzle piece. That was the reason behind his sweaty palms and urge to be sick.

Habit was good at blocking out all of the unpleasant things about life. Sure, they almost always inevitably resurfaced, anyway, but the goal was never to be rid of them for good.

Merely to stall. Always to stall.

But that’s NOT what he’s doing, right now! Because there IS nothing more to discuss!! Nothing! Nada! Zilch!

--- “...”

He hadn’t noticed how tight his grip on the railing had gotten- had barely registered the tension in his shoulders as he leaned further. Further... JUST so he could look down, better. That’s all.

The daily lives of the Habiticians meant little to nothing to him. He was able to seamlessly gloss over Punching Girl as she pretended to, predictably, fight something. Or someone. He completely ignored Broccoli Child- nearly rolling his eyes at a less than pleasant memory regarding the trash he once tried to sell to him.

Nearly.

He hurried to turn away, to head back inside. He knew that if he lingered for any longer that the incessant WHINING of a certain resident would start back up, again. Perhaps it already had and he’d merely gotten beyond used to it.

Great. Cool. Love that.

--- “I THINK yuo are under-estimnating the work I”ve put into Thee Habitat. I know verie well how 2 control MY Habiticians, and if push comes two shove, I”m SURE I could-”

--- “........ I... could........ .................. ah...”

Something about his wording froze him in his tracks. He would’ve clamped his jaw shut if he had the gall to; would have bitten his tongue just to keep any more comments on the matter to himself.

The smile from before never once left his face. He disliked how heavy it felt- disliked the fact that he apparently felt the need to keep falling back into the hole he was so DESPERATELY trying to clamber back out of.

He’d said all he needed to say. He’d done his part!

Habit lowers his head, back turned to the outside world. A chill seeping into the room reminded him that he’d forgotten to close the door. He normally wouldn’t care about such a minute detail, but-

One quick glance towards the “operating room” is all he needs to change his mind. It’s bad ENOUGH that he’s allowing himself to become so overly fixated on everything that could go WRONG, and not go RIGHT!! Nobody else needs to accidentally overhear something they shouldn’t.

Hand shaking (shaking??), he pulls it away from the glass; job done, and steps unsteady as he attempts to backtrack. Literally.

Habit whirls back around, action abrupt as he gradually loses his initial train of thought. His breaths are a bit labored, like he’d just been running, somehow, and he wants to fix that. He wants, more than anything, to fix this entire situation.

Pathetic. One simple hypothetical had sent him into such a state?? Disgusting.

If he couldn’t handle the fire, then he shouldn’t have walked directly into the flames. He had what it took to run The Habitat. He took every precaution necessary.

‘If your Habitat started to go way downhill, but wasn't a lost cause yet, and you had to resort to more extreme and harmful measures to keep your Habiticians in line, what wouldn't you do?’

‘What WOULDN’T he do?’

--- “. . . If. . . push comes to SHOVE. . .”

He changes trajectory. Wandering around aimlessly certainly wouldn’t help anything, and suddenly, he feels very much so like cleaning something is in order. How often did he do that, anyway?

Not often enough, he decided, eyeing the grotesque red splotches.... just about everywhere he thought to look. On the chair, some on the floor-

HOW did he manage to get blood on the walls???

Habit reaches forward to grab the nearby mirror on the tray, having already pulled a cloth from one of his pockets. Yes, a cleaning day was definitely in order. A dirty workplace leads to a dirty outlook on life.

No wonder he’s so stressed.

--- “... Well,” he shrugs, “who is 2 say that there will bee any Habiticians TO keep in line?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he doesn’t find any relief in them, whatsoever. So he continues.

--- “Let me elab-or-ate. CORPSES have teeth. Right?”

He turns his head, then; absently searching for the spray bottle he swore he had sitting on the counter.

--- “Who cares if “The Big Event” is SKIPPED, all-2-gether? I would not be above that. No “waitiing” and no “gettiing their hopes up” 4 something that was falsely advertized.”

--- “So,” ah, there it is, “to answer you”r question:”

--- “Nothing!11!!! There are absolootely NO lengths that I womn”t go in order 2 enshure that I gather More Teeth!!1!! So WHAT if I need to “take out thee trash” all at once?? So WHAT if I “accidentally” get the dosage wrong? They will bee happily and giggily, and then....”

--- “......... they will not.”

“Sick” doesn’t even begin to cover how he feels, right about now. Does he sound casual while discussing this? How is he coming off as while he so flippantly talks about murder?

Cowardly? Psychopathic? ... Terrifying?

Is he terrifying? He must be. There’s no other explanation, in his mind.

--- “No skin off MY back!! At leest CORPSES do not cry!!”

Habit twirls back around to the counter where he’d grabbed the spray bottle, content smile betraying him as he gently sets it back where he found it.

--- “At leest CORPSES do not struggle!! When they FIN-A-LLY stop moviing, they cann”t tell me: “Yuou womn”t get awaY with THis!!!1!”. They can’t skream and run- they can”t do any-thing At All!1!!!”

And that’s the beauty of it. Or, at least, it SHOULD be.

--- “Once they set “Foot” into The Habitat, it isn”t like theyre Going 2 bee LEAVINGG it, anyway!! I”mmn not beeing CRUEL!!! What I do- it’s BRILL-I-ANT!! So WHY should I feel BAD??!?!?!”

Why, indeed?? Yes, WHY should he feel bad about cracking a few chickens to make a brand new healthy egg? What is the harm in it?

Nonexistent, as far as HE can tell!

--- “Thee answer is: I shouldn”t, annd I don’t! I hope thiss conversatioon was en-lit-ening 4 U! :-)”

So... there. He’s done. It’s over. Rant over. He- He’s said his share. Had his fill.

Of course, NOW he’s gone and gotten himself all riled up. Who knows how long it’ll take him to calm back down? Once he allows that little box in the back of his mind to open, this always happens.

Why do you think he’s so keen on keeping it nice and SHUT?

Autopilot becomes comforting after the hundredth time you shift into it. Habit continues about his business, cleaning the operating room while humming a jovial tune to himself.

The fact that he stumbles in his steps every now and then is unimportant. His pounding heart barely matters.

So long as he’s smiling, it’s IMPOSSIBLE to be upset!

Maybe if he believes that hard enough, it’ll be true.

#| Dr Habit - ιc ☢#| Dr Habit - qυeѕтιon anѕwered ☢#| Ask Meme #Anonymous #Smile For Me #Boris Habit #cw blood #cw suicidal thoughts #cw murder #ask to tag #Long Post #this is some of my WORST writing and this shouldn't have taken me two days but #have? it????#hope it's good haha i just #REALLY loved this question #thank you so much btw!!!!!!!! A!

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frekydeki · 5 years

Text

Cupid Can’t Fall in Love

Part 1

Summary: (AU) Eternal and true love is a business transaction for you. Soulmates are simply two file folders tied together with a golden bow. But when eight folders come across your desk, your job gets a little bit stickier with each passing day. Being a Cupid isn’t so easy as it sounds...

Pairing: (Jihyun x Reader)

| Part 1 | Part 2: Upcoming

It’d be beautiful. The golden grass, the falling sun, the gentle and warm wind, the serene silence… It would all be so beautiful if he wasn’t staring into your eyes so tearfully. You trace your eyes over his blue hair and follow the line of his jaw, then his neck, over his collar bone and to his heart. Your e/c eyes widen to the size of the moon; a glowing arrow burns frantically in his chest. You harshly draw in a breath and smack your hand over your own arrow, hammering in your heart.

You can’t process the tear trailing down your cheek as you turn your eyes away and up to the scattered clouds in the sky. Why? How did this happen? It’s got to be a mistake…

It’d all be so beautiful… If only you could fall in love.

How… Did it come to this?

Working for Aphrodite isn’t the most exciting employment option. When you were first born, you took a little bit more to your father’s side, preferring to kick ass here and there. But after a run-in with a seething Achille’s, – you told Zeus to just kill the guy but he insisted you talk it out – you got your butt kicked so bad that even Ares himself worried over you. Your mom said your warrior days were over that day. Nobody defies the word of Aphrodite, after all, and that’s why you’re holed up in this stupid office. Battle armor feels much more natural than the pencil skirt and blouse you’re wearing, but this is what you have now; platform heels, scrunchies, paper cuts, and the sound of typing like chinese water torture to your ears. Lucky you, though! You’ve put in your two millennia to get a personal office, away from all the typing and scratching on parchment; its maybe one of your greatest achievements in the past two thousand years since Aphrodite and Ares put you on the bench.

This tiny little office is your hell a little bit away from hell, you like to say. You still have mental break downs and panic attack under your desk, and you’ve forgotten what wood your desk is made out of; but at least you get some damn silence. Except for the obnoxious banging on your door that’s happening right now. Is it eight already? The dread of a thousand punished souls in the underworld escapes from your lips in a groan; you barely even filed the cases you finished yesterday. Nevertheless, you roll in your rock hard chair – Hera was kind enough to make you a small cushion, even if it looks like a grandma’s afgan turned cushion, you and your butt love it – to swing your door open at a dangerous speed.

The young blonde before you smiles and points towards the soft close door.

“Isn’t it great Ares installed those personally for you?” Her raspy voice sputters to you quickly. Her scrawny finger then points to the coffee mug in your hand, “Hey, is that coffee.”

“Yeah, what el-“ Your hand becomes lighter as she snatches it from you and takes a long swig.

“I haven’t slept in like three days,” She babbles to you as she puts the coffee back into your hand and turns to the cart littered with folders, “Finals are next week and I haven’t studied all semester.” You’ve grown used to the incessant mumbling that Angelia lets loose every morning while handing in your cases… She’s like this every week, even without finals. “Becoming a god sure isn’t easy work!” She loudly laughs before continuing on about offerings and the rules of appearing to humans.

“You know, Angelia, if you didn’t spend all of your time programming social media sites for humans, you’d be able to get your work done.”

“How else is a messenger god supposed to stay relevant? Dad already does all the messaging between gods, so there’s no work for a dumb college god like me.”

“You’re in college… That’s your job right now.” Your lidded eyes meet hers as she blows a loose strand of curly hair from her face and drops two folders onto your lap.

“Yeah but I’ll disappear if I loose followers.”

“No. You won’t. You’re a god born of two gods, not a god born of need. There’s a clear difference. We survive whether or not humans worship us individually. Plus there’s other jobs for gods to do other than meddling and fucking around.”

“Yeah but I wanna be a messenger god!” She whines as she drops four more folders onto your lap. “Only eight new assignments today. Lucky you.”

“L… Lucky me?” You screech at her. “I already have two hundred and eighty- eight active cases!” She surrenders her hands and pursues her lips at you.

“I don’t decide who gets what cases.”

“Yeah but you could also maybe throw in a word to Aphrodite and be like, ‘Yeah, boss, don’t you think MC already has enough assignments right now?’ You know, maybe stick your neck out for a friend once in a while?” Angelia continues to stack cases on your lap, unphased by the explosive temper you let loose every morning, and you keep on crying up to her, “Are you listening to me Angelia? I’m drowning in stress right now! If I were a nymph I would’ve shriveled up and died three hundred years ago.” With your pouting expression and whiney voice, you can be compared to a kid whose mom put her favorite cereal back on the shelf.

“But you’re not a nymph. Yay! You won’t shrivel up and die.”

“But if I were a nymph I would have. Doesn’t that concern you? I could die!”

“Gods don’t die.”

“Yes we do!” You snap up to her grinning face, “And the leading cause is stress!” The over caffeinated girl isn’t moved by your whining, so you switch to a bargaining strategy quickly.

“Okay, hear me out,” You begin with a lowered voice, “Maybe if you just slip these onto someone else’s desk, and then pretend that you didn’t notice when Aphrodite asks you “What the hell?” By then that Cupid would have already started the assignment so there’d be no point in bothering me to do it.” Angelia drops the last heavy file folder on your lap and shakes her head. You blink as the weight of your coffee is lifted from your hand again.

“No can do, my friend.” She begins as she sips loudly from your coffee mug, before her face scrunches, “Too much creamer.” Angelia puts the mug back in your hand, all the while you watch her with eyes the size of the moon; is she serious right now? Of course you know there’s too much creamer in there; you just had a late morning so for all you care she can take her scrutiny and shove it. “Anyways, Aphrodite and Eros both said - very strictly, I might add - that these files are meant for your hands only. Anyways, I’m only part time, here. That all is way above my pay grade.”

“Angelia,” You suck in a heavy breath through your nose to try and curb your frustrations with the shrugging girl before you say, “You suck.” At that, she laughs heartily. She giggles her good-bye to you over the sound of her clicking heels as she moves to give the next guy his shackles for the day. “Hey!” She turns over her shoulder to acknowledge your head poking out of your office, “You tell Aphrodite that if I get any more cases this week I’m going to go ahead and fall in love, ya hear?”

“Yeah, right. Someone like you, fall in love?” She snorts, “Not even Eros would take that assignment.” You lift your lip, eyebrows pinching together, and shout back to her:

“Go bother someone else… I’m gonna be here all night because of you.” She waves and smiles pleasantly, which you return half-heartedly. The door shuts gently, and you groan back over to your desk.

Eight files don’t sound like much to the human ear, but these files hold every single aspect of the subject’s life, so it looks like the holy bible. It’s not that you mind the read all that much – it’s like a nice little short story – but it’s the paperwork and scheming that you hate with every fiber of your explosive being. You look to the mirror hanging on your wall after glancing through one of the files – these were all a little bit bigger than the normal case – and decide to put your work order in for their vial’s early; it’s going to take a while to gather their life essence. You grab a drachma and turn it about in your hand as you scribble the eight names onto separate blue ribbons.

“Ánoixe.” You cough, watching the solid mirrors surface begin rippling like water after a stone is thrown into it. “Eudorus.” The rippling increases before orange begins to reflect in the mirror; it slowly stops to reveal the freckled and smiling face of your good buddy. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Don’t play coy with me, MC. I know you’re only here to give me more work.” Your lips snap shut before you laugh lightly.

“I’m sorry. I usually wouldn’t bother you about it until tomorrow but… I just got eight new assignments and they’re really big files. I thought I’d give you a head start on getting their essence for me.”

“Eight!” He cries at you, his freckled cheeks becoming red and eyes watering. “You’re already drowning in work already!” He purses his lips and puffs his cheeks as he mumbles under his breath, “Mom really has to stop giving you so much work. You’ll keel over soon because of lack of sleep.”

“Can you do this for me? I’ll buy you dinner tonight?” He smiles at you.

“I’d do it even if you didn’t offer food, but since you did you can’t take it back now. Give me the ribbons and I’ll give ‘em to you at dinner.” You push your hand through the mirror, flinching as the humid air of his workplace gathers to your hand.

“How do you even breathe in there Eudorus? It’s so humid.”

“You get used to it after a little.” He stops as he eyes you, his lips parted and brows slack in what you can only dreadfully identify as one thing; concern. “Are you getting enough sleep, MC?”

“With all these cases on my desk, I can’t afford sleep.”

“We might be gods and all, but we need our sleep just like the humans.” You grin as you roll your eyes playfully.

“You’re starting to sound like Apollo.”

“If he sees you like this MC he’s going to tear you a new one about taking care of yourself, and you know he’s going to crack down on your eating habits! You’re worse than Hades sometimes…”

“I know, I know… I’ll just avoid him at all costs.” Your half-brother grins at you before he waves the ribbons held lightly in his smooth hands.

“I better get to work on theses. And you better to, if you want to cut down on those piles on your desk.”

“You’re right. Have a good one, Eudorus.”

“Yeah, you too.” You watch as your red-headed brother disappears, and the mirror hardens again. Staring at your reflection, you realize you really do look like you’re on your deathbed. Your skin is a shade or two lighter from its usual hue, hair messily tossed into a bun, your bags much more prominent, and lips pulled down in a frown much more than usual. You look away quickly, recalling Angelia’s words from earlier…

“Yeah, right! Someone like you, fall in love?” You stare critically at the stack of finished reports you need to put in their rightful files; you will never have one of these for yourself… It’s strictly off limits for you as a Cupid. If you fall in love, you lose your job. Sometimes it makes you mad, other times sad, and some rare times, you’re glad.

Filing cases is the easy part of your job; all the hard work’s done, now all that’s left is topping off the paired folders with golden ribbons and filing them into your large bookshelf for review and approval by Eros. Eros, that sleaze. It’s been at least a millennium since you went through the trouble of pairing him with Psyche and he still has the nerve to waltz into your office and flirt with you shamelessly. Plus, he gets to keep his job despite being head over heels for his wife; who cares if he’s a primordial? He should be held to the same standards as everyone else!

That’s not what matters at the moment though, you guess. Getting these cases off of your desk is the priority! You managed to close thirty cases last night, so you just need to focus on getting them all patched up nicely. You glance to the new files on your desk; once this is done you can stick your nose into the new assignments.

“Is this a joke, mom?” Saying you sounded as loud as Zeus when he and Hades butted heads would almost do a disservice to your anger. You are livid, fuming, downright insane with rage. Her beautiful violet eyes snap up to your own as she gracefully pushes her blonde hair from her face and folds her hands in front of her.

“Is what a joke, MC?” Most of the time, her voice would’ve calmed you down to the point of rational thought, but not today. You’re ready to body slam her into Tartarus. You wave the files frantically in front of you and drop them onto her desk, eyes on fire and steam running out of your ears. You’re an Ares level threat right now.

“What the hell are these assignments?” You screech. Opening the top folder you drop the picture of the blonde on her neat, tidy desk. “Yoosung Kim, 21, college student. He’s fucked up right now, mom. He recently lost his cousin, who, might I add, is also one of these files. How the fuck am I supposed to make a dead woman fall in love? And how the hell am I supposed to make someone like Yoosung fall in love while he is like this?” She opens her mouth to respond but you slap another picture in front of her. “Jumin Han, 26, an executive who doesn’t know the half of relationships and trusting another person. I can’t work with this yet! And don’t you even get me started on Saeran and Saeyong, have you even looked through these files? And Jihyun? What the fuck is going on with this guy?” You feel a large hand plop down on your shoulder. A growl nearly comes from you as you look up to your father, his yellow eyes telling you to try and calm down. “Well when the hell did you get here?”

“I was here the whole time MC. You just marched in, ready for the kill.”

“Well if she wouldn’t hand me such bullshit cases on top of all my other cases I wouldn’t feel like murdering everyone on this damn mountain!” Ares chuckles as he shakes his head in amusement.

“You sure are my daughter, but you’re almost worse than me. What have I always told you, little soldier?” Your mouth draws into a thin line, before you mumble your response so lowly that no one could understand you. “No matter how hard it gets, it is your duty, and so you shall finish it.”

“It could also be Eros’ duty. Or Agata! She only has like, ten assignments right now.”

“Yes, my dear. But Agata is also very new to working as a Cupid.”

“She’s been in the department for two hundred years!”

“These cases require experience and power greater than that of a two hundred-year-old nymph.” You draw your lips into a thin line and eye your mother critically. What the hell does she expect you to do with this? You’re originally a war goddess. You were meant to fight, not shoot people with metaphorical arrows and make sure they fall head over heels with each other!

“This is the life you have now, MC.” Ares begins, for like, the millionth time this month. You grind your teeth and step away from him. You know that you have to content yourself with working in a quiet office, watching others fall in love, constantly typing on a computer, wearing these stupid pencil skirts and bows…

“But I hate wearing these damn heels!” Is all you can screech, childishly. Aphrodite giggles as she stands and walks to you.

“But they make you look so beautiful.” You send a harsh glare up to her; of course, she doesn’t even flinch cause your glares are as harmless to her as a feather is to a rock. “I trust you to handle these assignments better than anyone working here… Even myself. I wouldn’t have given them to you otherwise.”

“How do you suggest I start these, then?”

“Drink their essence and see what they need.”

“I’m not a damned therapist.”

“Hear, hear!” Ares uselessly calls as he resumes his seat on the couch. He shrinks a little when Aphrodite sends him a harsh, menacing glare; if there’s one thing all the gods have learned, it’s that Aphrodite – and possibly Persephone – are the scariest when they get mad.

“Yes, but you will know where to go. I can assure you.” You puff out your cheeks and cross your arms.

“Fine, but you owe me three weeks of vacation since I can’t go next week anymore!” You hiss as you take the files she’d gathered in her hands before you even simmered down – it’s like she knew she’d win you over – and stomp to the door. “I had tickets to the premier of the new marvel movie! Do you know how expensive those are?” You cry, ready to slam the door shut, but giving your mom one more, half-hearted stare.

“You’re a goddess, sweetheart. You have an endless supply of money.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to waste it!” And you move to slam the door shut, but it slows just at the end. You swear your eyeballs set on fire as you realize that your father installed yet another soft close door because of you.

What’s your plan? Dive in head-first and get blind-sided at every corner like Zeus? No way, just thinking about that has you ready to start another war. You need a plan, a good plan, and as much information as you can get. Meaning you’re going to have to work with their guardians. Pompous, inconsiderate, above the law shit heads is what guardians are. In your millenniums, you’ve avoided most, if not all, contact with them. You don’t work well with big heads; they always mess things up because they’re always right, narrow-sighted, and rash. Add to that the state that these wards are in, you can’t imagine these guardians will be the best help… But you’ve got to take whatever you can get.

And that’s why you’re sitting at a large table of seven guardians, enjoying a measly meal of chicken tenders and fries; ambrosia is too damn expensive these days. But you suppose that as the times have changed, your offerings and followers have fallen to a measly, absolute zero. No worshippers? No ambrosia. It’s a good way to stir up some envy here on Olympus.

“So, what do you need, Cupid?”

“I need to know about your wards.” You sigh as you plant a folder in front of each guardian. You point to the empty chair and raise your brow, “Where’s Mina’s guardian?”

“Uh, she’s out on sick leave.”

“I thought you guys were invincible?”

“Well, after all the times she’s worked, I’m sure she needs a break for a little.” Aeneas snaps at you. You roll your eyes; guardians were specifically designed to do everything but need a break. You’d have to check in with Zeus later to see what the hell is going on with her.

“Okay, whatever.” Continuing, you decide to get straight to the point, “Tell me everything you know about your wards. Why are they in the state they’re in?”

“Some wards are harder to guide than others.” Jac gently speaks. You look to the soft-featured man, nodding your head. You know that… You’ve always treasured Jac as a guardian, he’s one of the few to look at you on equal grounds.

“I know. I’m sorry if it felt like I jabbed at you. Could you all maybe explain to me what you’ve learned does or doesn’t work with these wards?”

“Of course… We’ll do as much as we can to help…”

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