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13thbaronzemo · 3 years

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THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES: PART 4

Baron Helmut Zemo/F!Reader

Rated E (Explicit)

You are the Sokovian custodian of Castle Zemo, which now belongs to the dissolved nation’s neighbors, and the baron himself has ordered you to come vacation with him in Ibiza.

Disclaimer: This is a continuation of a fanfic written before FatWS: Ep4 aired and set up after his separation from the protagonists and while on the run from the law.

Baron Zemo’s beach villa was a glass house with windows as high as the ceiling and as low as the floor. The sun shone right through them and illuminated every brightly painted wall and every darkened corner. And, while you missed it on its way up, the sun didn’t miss you. It had been keeping your side of the bed warm as you slept, as well as the side the baron had woken up in.

It was only when the heat became too suffocating, and the thirst too unbearable, that you stirred. Sitting up on your hunches was a Herculean task, and opening your eyes in the morning light was a bad decision. The hangover had made your mouth sand-dry and had your head spinning. All you could remember was being put to sleep like a child because, after a day of travel and a night of drinking, you were far too weak to do it yourself.

The baron anticipated the bad morning you would be having. On the nightstand, he’d left you a note reclining against a tall glass of water and atop a folded tissue.

My Lady,

I know how much you needed a good night’s sleep, so I didn’t dare wake you up so early. I had to go into town this morning, but I’ll be back in time for lunch.

Be sure to drink plenty of water while I’m gone and, if your headache is too much to bear, I’ve left you two tablets of ibuprofen. There is a tray of food that you can stomach waiting for you on the kitchen counter. Do not go hungry waiting for me.

~ Your Lord

You emptied that glass so fast, you only discovered the two tablets folded in the tissue after you were out of water. Thankfully, your Lord had thought of everything: there was a whole six-pack of water bottles on the coffee table across the room just waiting for you to walk over to it. Wrapping the sheet you’ve slept in around your naked body, you crossed the sun-heated carpet and helped yourself to a few more sips of water and ibuprofen.

However, you couldn’t wait around for the pills to heal you, so you began walking off the hangover.

First, you freshened up in the bathroom with a shower. And, since you hadn’t bothered going back into the bedroom to bring your supplies into the cabin before closing it, you proceeded to use his products. But it’s not like you minded bathing in the strong scent that only his musk could overpower. As you scrubbed off your skin, you also traced over the bruises he bit into the side of your neck and the ones he dug into you with his nails. Your thighs were still tender and the memory of his fingers was still fresh in your flesh. And, before you knew it, your nails were digging, dragging themselves between your thighs.

When you couldn’t bear it anymore, when the thought of his tongue entered your mind like it had entered you last night, you slipped a finger inside. The sound you made was louder than the water, but it wasn’t enough to summon him by your side. Or behind. Or inside. All you had was yourself and your fingers to fuck yourself with as you drowned out the desperate sounds in the shower stream. So you slipped another one in and took care of your clitoris with your thumb. When you finally came, it was while calling out your Lord’s name.

Secondly, you had to pick yourself off the shower floor before the cabin flooded and the worries started winding the gears in your brain. You couldn’t let all the terrors he’s inflicted on the rest of the world take over your thoughts, so you sniffed the humid air and your wet skin in search of his scent. Sure enough, the memories took over and you were engrossed in the thought of all the gifts he has bestowed onto you.

Thirdly, you needed to dry and dress before heading downstairs for a late breakfast. He had ordered you to stay hydrated and fed while he was gone, after all. While brushing your teeth and combing your hair, you saw something purple peering back at you in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. It was peeking out from under the lid of the wicker laundry basket and, once you lifted it completely, you saw it was the sleeve of the same shirt Baron Zemo wore last night. Pulling it out, you put it right up against your nose, inhaling the rest of his scent, the traces of him that couldn’t be contained in a conditioner bottle. When you returned to yours and the baron’s room, you were wearing a smile, his button-up shirt, and nothing underneath.

Finally, after plucking your phone out of your purse, you ventured downstairs into the kitchen. The tray of food he’d promised you was preset there: toasted bread, honey, avocado spread, and boiled eggs. Next to it was another tall glass, but, this time, it was filled with blended bananas. From the mixer drying next to the sink, you were delighted to deduce that he made you the smoothie himself. Putting the phone in the shirt pocket, you placed the glass on the tray and made your way to the couch in the center of the open living area.

Sitting down, you took a sip of the smoothie before sliding your fingers on your phone’s home screen. You knew, before you even unlocked your phone, you had a slew of messages waiting for you. The group chat from work had been chatting about you. Well, they were complaining about a couple of Spanish tourists you weren’t there to talk to in their tongue. You chose to focus on the more recent messages, the good mornings. You sent one of your own and the interrogation began. You answered their questions about the weather, the food and the nightlife. Even back in the old country, you heard stories about Ibiza’s nightlife. All of Europe heard the stories about the nightlife. ‘Send photos,’ they insisted. ‘Pics pls,’ they spammed you. You had no such photos to send, but Heidi had your back. She had spammed you the selfies from the VIP area while you slept. You told them about this lost Sokovian sister who lived here and who you met in Eden.

As you were struggling to come up with a good story about how you ended up in the most expensive nightclubs in the world on your salary, you were saved by a low battery. 'Sorry, my phone's dying,' you told the truth. 'I'm off to buy a new charger,' you lied. 'I forgot mine on the plane. TTYL.' And you didn't wait for them to respond before you switched to airplane mode and turned off the Wi-Fi. Then, you hurried upstairs and dug through your suitcase for the charger that you totally left on the plane.

After setting up your phone to charge on the nightstand, you went back downstairs. You were feeling famished and you had the baron's breakfast to finish. The toast was cold and the smoothie was warm, but anything coming from your Lord was going to be devoured no matter what. So you ate the toast, sipped your drink, and looked longingly at the deserted driveway. It was almost noon, so he could've come back any minute. A minute passes. Then three. Then ten. Then your mind starts winding with worry again.

Where is he? Is he safe? Is he okay? Why didn't he give you his phone number? Why didn't he ask for yours? Did he already have it? Did he go through your phone? How can he trust you not to use that phone to call the authorities? Why don't you call the authorities? Why are you here? Why are you here?

In an attempt to distract yourself, you wash the dishes and leave them to dry. When that doesn't work, you take yourself on a tour around the open living area. You bury your nose in a red rose, drag a digit across the kitchen counter top, pass through a forest of potted plants and watch seagulls bathe in the sun through the blinds. When you returned to the sofa, you slid your hand across its smooth surface as you walked barefoot behind it. As you approached the end of your journey, you let your hand fall back at your side. There was more fabric to feel up, but you wouldn't dare. That was his armchair and you could tell.

On each side of it rest a table. On the one that stood between the armchair and the sofa lay a spread of Spanish magazines and a couple of remote controls. And on the other lay a closed chessboard, a glass ashtray, and a stack of paperbacks. They looked to you like they were loved, with bent book covers, dog ears and all. And Il Principe was by far his favorite.

Just as your palm presses down on the first page, you jolt and drop the open book on its back. The sound of a purring engine pulling up pierced your ears and heart. He was back? He was back! How could you mistake the convertible's color as anybody else's but Baron Zemo's? You picked up the copy of Machiavelli’s The Prince and placed it back on top of the stack before praying nothing else was out of place. Well, anything besides whatever had slipped out of those pages and under the chair.

There was no time, so you forsake your search before it even started. Pulling down on the hem of your purple shirt - his shirt - you counted the turns of the key in the lock. One. Two. Three.

"Lord Zemo," you perked up, your feet patting the floor on your way to the door. "Welcome back."

You surrendered to the shivers on a sunny day as his eyes were revealed behind his shades. Since you settled yourself in his direct line of sight, you couldn't exactly complain about being scrutinized.

"It's good to be back," he licked his lips, leering at you as he leaned back against the door and shoved it shut. "And it's even better with a warm welcome." Dropping the big bag of groceries to the ground, he gathered both your hands into his. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

“Better,” you smiled and it must’ve been a silly sight because he snorted when you apprehensively added: “Now that you’re here.”

“Can’t go on a day without me, can you?” The baron brought both of your hands to his mouth and took turns kissing each one. “Can’t even dress yourself while I’m not here.” You reacted as if you just remembered you put on his purple button-up, stuttering to give a straight answer as he snickered. “There, there,” he tutted you, taking your face in the palms of his hands and pressing his lips against your frustrated frown. “There’s no need to pout, little girl. It suits you.”

He made you feel so meek, so small. You hated hearing yourself speak in his presence, seeing yourself quiver under his questioning eyes, yet you loved being at this powerful man’s mercy. Ever since you failed to evade him in the west wing hallway, you’ve been at his mercy. Ever since you surrendered yourself to him, you’ve been more than willing to obey him.

Even now, even as he asked you what you’d like to have for lunch, you didn’t dare demand anything. You let him decide while he swung that heavy bag atop the surface of the counter. Even when he asked what music you'd like to listen to, you echoed 'whatever you wish, my Lord,' like you're back to being his captive in Castle Zemo. And maybe you were.

However, as he hovered over his armchair and whatever secret slipped underneath it, unbuttoning his suit as he buttoned the remote, you begged him to go lay down and rest. Upstairs. On the second floor. Away from the chair and the contents below.

"The paella isn't going to prepare itself, my dear," he talked over timid trumpets. "Aren't you hungry?" He slid the suit jacket off of his shoulders and you scrambled to catch it. "Thank you."

"I've had a filling breakfast," you whispered, all the wind getting knocked out of your lungs as he turned to you with a half-clothed chest.

The fingers on his burgundy buttons froze when he saw your eyes savoring the sight. To the tune of the basset horns, the baron brought them over to the sleeves so that he could bunch them up to his elbows. "Not filling enough, it seems," he breathed, his fingers now at your buttons - his buttons. "Tell me," he craned his neck, hovering over the now uncovered half of your chest. "Have you tried filling yourself with two fingers or three?" When you gasped, he grabbed your naked neck and, while your windpipe was free to filter air, you had yet to breathe in any. "You can't even pleasure yourself without me, can you? You can barely take care of yourself."

"Please," you pleaded. It was a pathetic wheeze as it left your parted lips. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you welcomed the tightening grip around your throat.

"Please what?"

"Please, my Lord," you closed your eyes as he cupped your breast under the open button-up. Your nipple was at attention before he reached it, his thumb running over it, flicking it, teasing it. Torturing you. "Touch me."

"I am touching you, my dear" he chuckled cruelly, the thumb at your throat pressing down on the bruise as he would a button and snapping open your scrunched up eyes. "Now, look at me," he insisted, his brown eyes growing black. "Please what?"

"Please fuck me," you pushed your breast into his palm and ran your own up and down the arm. You were stroking it, stoking the fire that's been ignited behind his now on fire eyes as they burned in the background of Mozart's Requiem in D Minor.

“Good girl.” Then, as if all the tension was sucked out of the air by his hiss, your lord left you stranded, surrendering his hold on you and letting you balance yourself on the balls of your feet.

When you found your bearings, the baron was seating in his armchair, the throne you had previously pleaded for him to forsake for the bed. As you blinked back the tears you weren’t aware had been welling in your eyes, you saw him spread his legs wider and lean back further. After patting down both of his pockets only to search through a single one, he presented to you a small silver packet.

“Wasn’t it you who wanted me to sit back and relax?” He smirked, satisfied in all the ways he can make your knees go weak. “You have to be the one doing all the work then. Pick the jacket off the ground and get to work, my dear.”

You’d been so distracted by his dashing good looks and his tempting touch that you had dropped his suit jacket at your feet. After dusting it off and hanging it by the door, you returned to him for your ravishing.

Getting on your knees between his own, you followed his instructions to undo his fly. Then, when your trembling hands allowed for his gorgeous, glistening erection to escape, he slapped them away. You wanted nothing more than to trace the vein that pulses up from the base of his penis to the head of it, with either your hands or your tongue, so you whined when you were denied. When he tutted you, tearing the package in two, you excused yourself even as you drowned in your own drool.

Your Lord was so beautiful in the afternoon sun, a king with a glowing crown of beaded sweat on his forehead. The last time you saw both his cock and his chest beard before you it was in the silver light of the moon and he appeared a white marble god to you then. However, as he slipped the rubber sleeve on his shaft, his chest heaving under the heat of your gaze, you remembered that he was a man first and foremost. And, when he commanded you to climb in his lap, his voice another in the chorus of the Requiem, you remembered that you were a woman first and foremost.

“That’s it,” he groaned as you straddled his hips, your nails fixing themselves in the sleeves of his shirt. “Right there, baby,” he held you up by your hip while your cunt hung over his cock being held by his other hands. “My poor baby, so helpless without me,” he licked his lips when you winced against the feeling of him between your folds. “You’ll have to learn to put in some work, little girl,” he pushed you down on him, both hands on your hips now. "I’ll lead you there, like a lord ought to," he groaned when you gasped, his cock head breaching the entrance. “But you’ll have to do it yourself,” his voice was strained as he slid in with a single snap of his hips. "You'll have to fuck yourself on my cock."

You fell forward, his face between your breasts and your hands holding it close by the back of his neck as he bottomed out inside you. You were finally full. "My Lord, I," you began babbling, trying to turn your brain on. You had to remember to get the slip of paper that sat just under this seat. You had to put everything back into its place. Oh, but his cock, crammed between the walls of your cunt, was right in its place. "I, I, I-"

"Come on, my lady," he breathed between your breasts, his mouth moving from one mound of flesh to the other. Now, as he flicked your nipples, he did it with the tip of his silver tongue. "Come on. Move."

With the baron's hands holding the back of your thighs in a tight grip, you moaned as you moved. With his encouragement, his ever contradicting endearments, his 'baby's and his 'lady's, as well as the long and wide reach of his erection, you began bouncing on his lap. When he suckled all the sweat off your breasts, he shoved your chest out of his face with a palm on your sternum. You had to steady yourself by sinking your nails into the chair's cushion armrests.

His hand slid up on the saliva he left behind on your skin and snatched you by the throat. "Did I tell you to stop?" he growled when you whined and winced, your cunt squeezing down on his cock in time with his hand around your neck. "That's it," he hissed when your hips hurried to comply and ride him again. "Right there, my Lady." His other hand, the one not tightening around your throat, undid the rest of the buttons on your shirt by sending them flying off of their stitches.

You moaned as the hand then moved down to where your bodies met, where your clitoris was growing as you ground against his groin hairs. "Please," you bit your bottom lip, looking at your baron with a vision deterred by suffocation and sexual overstimulation. "Oh, please."

"Please what? Let you come?" His hand was close and you could feel it smoothing down your stomach, then up again. Then down. Then up. "You think you deserve to come, baby? Because I don't think that you do. Only good girls get to come and you've been bad while I was gone."

Through the thick layer of tears and a tight throat, you begged again. And again. You bounced up and down on his lap. Fast. Faster. You squeezed his shaft so snug inside he rolled back his eyes and bucked up his hips. Tight. Tighter.

"Bad girl," he sneered, his eyes narrowing as they rolled back into his sockets. He lifted his hand off of your stomach only to bring it back with a slap to your side. "Didn't your mommy and daddy teach you not to take things that don't belong to you?"

"M-my Lord," your voice cracked, tears of shame and frustration streaming down your cheeks.

"No? Well, I'm both your mommy and your daddy now." He spanked you a second time, leaving searing skin behind. "Don't." Slap. "Touch." Slap. "What." Slap. "Isn't." Slap. "Yours."

Your cunt contracted around his cock after each slap. And, after each spoken word, you warbled out one of your own. It was the same one, over and over and over again. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

He chuckled over the chorus of the Dies Irae, his hand now coming down to caress your flaming flesh. "Baby," his voice dipped lower as his hand snuck back down your stomach. "Baby, look at me."

"Forgive me," you whimpered, your hands winding around the wrist of the arm traveling down south.

“I forgive you.” The baron took pity on you and proceeded with his palm ever further south. “I forgive you, my lady,” his voice was vicious as he barked out his order. “Now come for me! Come!”

The thumb turning your slick and swollen clitoris like a knob had opened the door to your release from the torturous luxury he’d trapped you in. There was a myriad of moans that he squeezed out of your throat and a wide array of words that made more sense while his cock twitched inside you and his thumb circled your clitoris. Words like ‘cum’ and ‘pussy’ and even ‘daddy’ to list a few. Whatever combination you had come up with, it worked like a charm on him as his orgasm followed yours, his face back between your breasts as you fell forward.

“Hold tight, my dear,” he heaved, his breath brushing your skin and his cheek scratching against your sternum. He’d lifted your hips and let himself slip out of you. “There we go,” he sighed, satiated and satisfied.

As you sagged against him, the baron brushed all the hair from your face only to find a sorry face. “I...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“You shouldn’t have,” he said, sinking his chin into his chest to kiss you on the crown of your weary head. “Don’t let me catch you doing it again.”

“You won’t, milord.”

“You’ll learn how to do it without my knowledge?” Combing your hair with one hand, he stretched the other hand towards the side table where your post-coitus eyes could now see what your heated gaze couldn’t before: The Prince had an off-white piece of paper sticking out from between its pages. Your mind was still marinating in the endorphins and was slow to recreate the scenario in which he managed to move it from under the chair and back into your book, all of it under your nose.

“Then you must know this: there is no better distraction than one's own desires.”

“Did Machiavelli write that?”

Baron Zemo laughed, his chest lifting up and down under you. “He wrote something like that,” he spoke over the string instruments playing Lacrimosa through the speakers and your spine shivered.

#Baron Zemo #Helmut Zemo #TFatWS #Baron Zemo x You #Baron Zemo x Reader

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hostess-of-horror · 3 years

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A Family Gathering

[M.B. is my Cadetsona OC, Shelley is my Sam and Max fanchild OC, M.J. belongs to @sleepy-heads-blog, and Sean and Nyarly belong to @drusb]

Note: This takes place after "A Day at the Diner" and before "Cadet's First Case".

---

Shelley: "Big brother, look!"

[With a toothy grin, Shelley lifts up a long centipede from underneath a rock. M.J. turns around to see her shaking it with glee.]

M.J.: "Oooh, that's a big one! Good job, Shelley!"

[Shelley squeaks happily and proceeds to eat the centipede, which makes a slight crunchy sound. M.J. smiles and leans onto the porch fence, looking out onto the neighborhood. The Commissioner had given Sam and Max a day off since there were no cases to be found. So in order to celebrate that sometimes-rare occasion, they invited family and friends over. M.J. could hear the commotion from inside the house; their laughter muffled by the walls. He could join them, but he was waiting for someone. He watches out towards the right side of the road patiently. Shelley looks up, climbs up the fence, and sits right on the edge next to M.J.]

M.J.: "I think you're gonna like Miss M.B. She's a really nice lady."

Shelley: "Miss... M...B...?"

M.J.: "Uh-huh. She is Dad and Papa's Cadet for the Freelance Police. Miss M.B. is our friend and she has these really cool powers that make all sorts of things appear."

[Shelley tilts her head, her ears flopping to one side. M.J. reaches out and lifts her up, carrying her like a small baby.]

M.J.: "I definitely think she'll really like you."

[Suddenly, a horn is heard. It's the DeSoto, pulling up into the front parking lot. M.J. knew what that meant.]

M.J.: "Dad! Papa! Miss M.B.!"

Sam: "Hey, son! Hey, Shelley!"

Max: "Hello, my little critters!"

[Coming out of the backseat is M.B., dressed in much nicer clothing than she wore before. A long, black, sheer kimono drapes over a soft tank top and a long black skirt, which is covered in coffin patterns. Her jewelry were a mix of spiked bracelets and several Anhks on her necklace and earrings. Over her eyes are a pair of magenta tea shades. Her dirty blonde hair is hanging loose around her shoulders, revealing her shaved hair on the right side of her head. Her boots were black leather with a touch of heel to them.]

M.B.: "Hey, lil' dude! How's it going?"

M.J.: "Miss M.B., you're here!"

[M.J. runs up to receive a big hug from M.B.]

M.B.: "Aw, did you miss me?" *gasps* "And who is this?"

M.J.: "Oh! This is Shelley, our new baby sister."

M.B.: "Awwww, she's so precious! Hi there, Shelley. It's nice to meet you."

[Shelley looks up at M.B., almost shying away. She then returns the smile. M.B. giggles.]

Sam: "Well, the rest of the family's inside, so let's not keep 'em waiting, shall we?"

[Sam wraps his arms around the two and heads up towards the entrance. They all enter inside and in the living room sits Sean and Nyarly in a couch playing Mortal Kombat while Geek and John watches.]

Sean: "Oh hey, you're back!"

Geek: "Hi, M.B.!"

M.B.: "Hey Geek."

[M.B. waves and smiles. But deep down inside, she still cannot help but feel terrible about breaking her heart over at the Diner. Even if everything has been patched up afterwards.]

Nyarly: "God, stop picking Scorpion! Choose someone else for once!"

Sean: "I do better with Scorpion, he's my main! It's not my fault you're a noob at this game."

Nyarly: "Alright, Noob Saibot it is. Let's go!"

M.B.: "Ooooh, Mortal Kombat! I love this game!"

[She goes to sit down alongside Geek and John. M.J. joins and Shelley goes over to Sam and climbs up onto his back.]

Shelley: "Father!"

Sam: "Hehe, hey there, sweetie. Father loves you too. Wanna help me with tonight's dinner? Come on. To the kitchen!"

[Sam rushes into the kitchen, giving Shelley a piggy back ride. She squeals in delight, giggling all the way. Max follows the two. The rest of the family sits and watches Sean and Nyarly battle it out on Mortal Kombat. Scorpion vs. Noob Saibot. Fighting to the death in the main tournament stage.]

Nyarly: "Oh, come on!"

Sean: *smirks*

Nyarly: "Are you spamming the special move button?!"

Sean: ".... maybe."

Nyarly: "Well, two can play at that game."

[Noob Saibot successfully dodges Scorpion's attack and perfectly lands a combo move. Soon an x-ray vision appears on the screen, revealing every graphic detail of Scorpion's bones being broken into bits. This brings his health bar all the way down.]

Nyarly: "HA!"

Sean: "What?!"

[Then the moment of truth. A voice booms, "FATALITY!" Nyarly quickly presses in the buttons and immediately Noob Saibot begins his fatality. Sean looks on in utter defeat as Scorpion gets brutally slaughtered by the hands of his opponent. M.B. claps.]

M.B.: "Well done, Nyarly!"

Nyarly: "Hey, M.B., wanna join?"

M.B.: "Oh hell yeah. Although I am a bit rusty, I must admit. Been a while since I played this game."

Nyarly: "Ah, don't worry... I'll go easy on you."

M.B.: "Is that a challenge?"

Nyarly: "....maybe."

M.B.: "Oh-kay then, let's go."

[Sean gives the controller to M.B. and switch seats. Nyarly picks Noob Saibot again. M.B. picks Mileena.]

Sean: "Oh, Mileena?"

M.B.: "Yeah, she's one of my favorites. Both beauty and beast."

[After picking a stage, the fight begins. Noob Saibot begins to win until Mileena manages to bring his health down by a landslide. Round One ends with Mileena's victory.]

M.B.: "Yes!"

Nyarly: "Ah, that was just beginner's luck!"

M.B.: "Heh... How's that denial working for ya?"

[Sean and Geek 'ooooh's and laughs. Nyarly slowly turns to M.B.]

Nyarly: "Wow, smart-ass." *chuckles* "Alright, no more Mr. Nice Guy."

[Round Two begins. Noob Saibot brings out the big guns and completely decimates Mileena.]

M.B.: "Ah sh*t!"

Geek: "You got this, M.B.!"

M.J.: "Last round!"

[The final round begins and it becomes intense. M.B. slams her buttons with all her might as Nyarly presses every combo he can remember. Eventually, Mileena manages to get an x-ray combo on Noob Saibot.]

M.B.: "YEAH!"

Nyarly: "Don't jinx yourself now!"

[This brings down Noob Saibot's health bar. Now both health bars are almost at equal amounts. Nyarly dodges Mileena's attack and gets an x-ray combo on her. M.B.'s competitiveness comes out and desperately slams the buttons even more. This leads to both characters almost dying. Just a few hits and one of them is done for.]

Sean: "Oh damn..."

Geek: "Who's it gonna be?"

M.J.: "Oh, so close!"

[Mileena makes an attempt to dodge and hit Noob Saibot with a combo attack, but wasn't quick enough. FATALITY!]

Nyarly: "Looks like I win again."

Sean: "You were so close, M.B.!"

M.B.: *chuckles* "I know!"

Nyarly: "That was a really good fight, though. You did pretty good. Alright, who's next?"

M.J.: "Oh, oh, oh, me! Me! Me!"

[M.B. hands over the controller and switches seats. Another battle begins, this time between Raiden and Kitana. Suddenly, the doorbell rings.]

Geek: "I got it!"

[Geek opens the door. Standing in front of the entrance is another family member.]

Geek: *gasps* "Granny!"

Granny Ruth: "Hello, dearie!" *hugs Geek* "I hope I wasn't late."

Geek: "Not at all. We're just getting started. Come on in!"

M.J. and John: "Granny Ruth!"

[Nyarly pauses the game and allows M.J. to join in on the group hug. Granny Ruth is immediately showered with affection by her great grandchildren. Sam and Max come out of the kitchen and greet her as well. Granny Ruth looks over to see M.B.]

Granny Ruth: "Ah, you must be the new Cadet my grandson has been telling me about. Why, it's so good to finally see you, dearie!"

M.B.: "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Granny Ruth: "Oh, please, no need for formalities. You can just call me 'Granny'." *smiles*

[Granny Ruth reaches out for a hug and M.B. accepts it. M.B. has heard so many good things about Granny Ruth from Sam and Max. Amazing things, in fact. So much so that getting permission to just call her 'Granny' felt like the highest of honor. M.B. has family back home, so of course she would never forget them. But at this very moment, M.B. felt like she belonged. Like she was wanted.]

Max: "You're just in time, Granny Ruth! We just finished fixing up dinner. Just head right into the kitchen and help yourselves out!"

[Everyone headed into the kitchen and was greeted to a whole potluck dinner. The entire room smells delicious, making M.B.'s mouth water. After everyone got their plates and their meals, they all sat down together and ate. Soon M.B. learns that Sam and Max's family were anything but "normal." Boisterous laughter erupted as conversations began turning into jokes. M.B. felt more and more comfortable with them, for all of this was very familiar to her. Her own family were full of funny people, especially her uncle. As she was getting really comfortable sitting in silence, watching everyone chat, a question gave her quite the surprise.]

M.J.: "Oh, Miss M.B.! Can you show us your powers after dinner?"

Granny Ruth: "Powers?"

Sam: "The kid has illusionary abilities. She can make things appear out of thin air."

Max: "I think she's some sort of witch or something."

M.J.: "Yeah, she once defended me from a bully once. Come on, Miss M.B.! Please~?"

M.B.: "Oh, uh... sure! Sorry, you just caught me off guard. Wasn't expecting it, that's all. I'll think of something after dinner."

M.J.: "Yay!"

[The spotlight has fallen upon M.B. She always hated stuff like this, having other people ask for her to do or perform something. Despite having an immense interest in theater, she wasn't one to always try to attract attention. Especially when the spotlight is forced upon her. However, this was different - an exception, because how could anyone resist an adorable little bunny in a sweater? When dinner was finished, everyone gathered outside in the backyard as M.B. walks further from them, making the entire lot her stage. She checks her phone for Wi-Fi and searches up some music. M.B. finally picks a song: "Dance with the Dragon" by Dark Sarah. As it begins to play, she focuses in on her powers. The purple and green aura emerges from her hands and evoke a wondrous scene. A decadent ballroom lit with multiple candles where a young lady in a black gown is captured by well-dressed gentleman, who is a dragon in disguise. The lyrics begin to sing.]

Lyrics:

[DRAGON:]

🎶I know why you're here, don't try to escape my dear, you've been naughty I know by trying to steal something of my own🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶I have no idea, why I have been dragged down here...🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶Don't lie!🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶...Nor what you're talking about, and sir there's no reason to shout!🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶And sure there's a reason to shout!🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶I saw the key but didn't steal!🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶You saw the key and tried to steal!🎶 [DRAGON:] I see... What do we have here?

[DARK SARAH:] What?... nothing... [DRAGON:] 🎶Now I know why you're here, you are a mischievous thief,🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶... just can't lie to him...🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶But if you want the key, you need to earn it my my dear!🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶He sees right through me, oh bugger! He just..🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶This is how we treat our guests who are trying to cheat, you need to earn it my dear!🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶...took the only ticket I had, I guess I have to🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶so you will be my rag doll tonight, tonight,🎶

[DARK SARAH:] 🎶see where this leads🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶At the dragon's ball!🎶

[The lady and the Dragon then begin to dance.] [DARK SARAH & DRAGON:] 🎶Take my all, I surrender, surrender! Look at me and the way I ask for forgiveness, kindness and help! Take my all, I surrender, surrender! You/I will die another day, another way🎶 [DARK SARAH:] I think we're done now [DRAGON:] You think so? [DARK SARAH:] ...I have to go! [DRAGON:] 🎶You're not going anywhere!🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶Why are you, making this🎶

[DRAGON:] 🎶You don't know...🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶...Harder than it is?🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶I cry on my own...🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶You have the key,🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶In this lonely place...🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶That you don't even need🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶That is why...🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶You're standing here between me and my life.🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶...I'm standing here between you and your life!🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶...I'm sorry to say...🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶What now?🎶

[DARK SARAH:]

🎶...just get off with your tail!🎶 🎶Hahhah!!!🎶 [DARK SARAH & DRAGON:] 🎶Take my all, I surrender, surrender! Look at me and the way I ask for forgiveness, kindness and help! Take my all, I surrender, surrender! You/I will die another day, another way🎶

[Then M.B. morphs the scene into a beautiful garden. This is the dragon's backstory, where he was once happy. There with him is his bride, who looks very similar to the lady.] [DARK SARAH & DRAGON:] 🎶Nannannannanna, Leoleolelee!🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶May I have this dance?🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶Aaaah!🎶 [DARK SARAH & DRAGON:] 🎶Nannannannanna, Leoleolelee!🎶 [DRAGON:] 🎶I will show you my best moves...🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶Aaaah, you best moves...🎶

[The flashback fades and the scene returns to the present.] [DRAGON:] 🎶... Why don't you?🎶 [DARK SARAH:] 🎶I just need the key, I'm trying to get out of here I know that it's a bad deal And disappointed you must feel But please help me to escape🎶 [DARK SARAH & DRAGON:] 🎶Take my all, I surrender, surrender! Look at me and the way I ask for forgiveness, kindness and help! Take my all, I surrender, surrender! You/I will die another day, another way Look at me and the way I ask for Forgiveness, kindness and help! Take my all, I surrender, surrender! We will die another day, another way... another way...another way...another day...another way...! 🎶

[M.B. ends her illusionary show. The whole family goes into a roaring applauds, cheering at the amazing spectacle.]

M.J.: "THAT WAS AWESOME!!!"

Geek: "Dude!"

Shelley: *happy bat squeaks*

Granny Ruth: "Well I'll be... I've never seen such a wonderful show since I was a little girl. You, dearie, have such a wonderful gift."

M.B.: "Thanks, Granny. Thank you all so very much!"

[Sam leans over and nudges Max.]

Sam: *whispering* "You know, little buddy, she can make quite a difference when it comes to cases."

Max: *whispering back* "You mean like making mushy fairy tales while blasting musical numbers from her phone?"

Sam: "I mean as our Cadet, pinhead! Imagine all the things she could do for the law!"

Max: "I dunno, Sam... is she even prepared to get smacked down by a bunch of hardened criminals? 'Cause she's giving me theater kid vibes, as the youth put it."

[Sam and Max watch as M.B. is surrounded by the rest of the family. M.B. is receiving hugs and pats on the back. She even lifts and hold Shelley in her arms, creating a tiny blue butterfly for her to marvel at. It lands on her nose, tickling her.]

Sam: "Heh... let's find out, shall we?"

#my writing #M.B.#The Cadet's #Cadetsona OC #Self-insert OC #M.J.#Geek #John #Sean and Nyarly #Granny Ruth #Sam and max freelance police #Sam and max freelance husbands #Sam and max this time it's virtual #This Time It's Virtual #Sam and max

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