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jaskierswolf · 4 years

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The Grass is Greener Pt.1/3

Summary: Jaskier's mother is coming to stay and his garden is an absolute mess and his lawn mower has seen better days... luckily for him his ridiculously hot neighbour is there to lend a hand.

Geraskier

CW: Shitty parents being shitty.

(Prompted by @alwenarin and based on this post by @infinite-mirrors)

________

Jaskier stared forlornly out at his garden. His mother was due to come over on her yearly visit and the next few days of his life were going to be hell. His mother was the sort to blast into his life like a fucking tornado, pull apart everything that he had built for himself and leave him broken, shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn’t even sure why he still let her in, probably some childhood trauma that meant he was desperate to please her, to make her proud, but what did he know? He wasn’t a therapist, much to her displeasure. Anything would have been better in her eyes than a musician and occasional bartender.

He didn’t make much money. His band hadn’t taken off yet and only really had a small but dedicated following online that donated pocket money in exchange for small previews of new tracks or little poems that could be given to lovers or in greetings cards. Most of his rent was paid for in the tips he made at the bar. He was lucky to have the house at all really. He shared it with his housemates: Priscilla, his bandmate and ex, Essi, her younger sister, Valdo Marx, his former schoolmate, professional rival and absolutely twat face who lurked in his attic room and never really came out to talk to them, and last but not least, Regis, a kind scholarly type who had been living in the house before the other rooms had become available and most importantly made excellent homemade gin.

Said housemates had agreed to fuck off for the weekend so he could pretend that the house was his in a last ditched attempt win over his mother.

Of course, none of them had helped to tidy up before leaving and he’d spent the last twenty-four hours deep cleaning the house, and bolting the door to Regis’s bathroom shut. The gin in the bathtub wasn’t ready to bottle yet and he wasn’t exactly going to drain the tub of his elixir. He’d moved the furniture in his friend’s rooms around enough to make it look like they weren’t extra bedrooms, more… rooms that just happened to have beds in case he had company. Priscilla’s room now resembled a music room, Essi’s room had been turned into a makeshift study, Valdo’s he’d left a mess and claimed it was just an attic, and Regis’s room was sort of a library if you squinted hard enough.

That just left the garden.

“Bollocks!” He moaned.

None of them really cared much about the garden, apart from the box down the end which housed Regis’s herb garden for cooking. The rest of the garden a mess. The grass was practically a wild meadow filled with weeds. He quite liked it. He enjoyed looking at the dandelions, daisies and buttercups but his mother would have a fit.

Where was he even going to start?

Lawnmower. They must have one. He stumbled through his back door onto the patio and made his way to the shed that honestly barely lived up to its name. It was falling apart and leaked horrendously, but luckily inside was one rusty looking lawnmower.

“Bingo!” He grinned and pulled the mower out of the shed. It was heavier than it looked but luckily Jaskier was also stronger than he looked. Even so he wasn’t entirely how he was going to start the damn thing.

Perhaps Geralt would know…

Fuck.

Geralt.

Geralt had just adopted a newborn baby. Her name was Ciri. Most of the time Geralt just called her ‘Cub’ which Jaskier found to be incredibly endearing, a fact that had nothing to do with his teensy little crush on the mechanic.

He pulled up Geralt’s number in his phone. He’d been delighted when Geralt had given him his number, yes maybe it was because Jaskier kept turning up at Geralt’s doorstep after shifts at work because he’d forgotten his keys and none of his bastard housemates were answering the door and Geralt just happened to have a spare key, but the main thing is he had Geralt’s number.

After that they’d conversed a few times over text. Mostly if one of them was running to the shops and wanted to know if the other needed anything. Occasionally Geralt would text to ask Jaskier if he could watch Ciri for a short while if Geralt needed to leave the house. Once Geralt had even given him a lift to work because Jaskier’s bike had gotten a flat tire and he didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to the bar. So they weren’t exactly strangers but he wouldn’t really call them friends.

In fact Geralt was still listed as Hot Neighbour in his phone. He meant to change it, it was just that you couldn’t argue with the truth. Geralt was his hot neighbour.

J —Hey Geralt! Is it ok if I mow my lawn? I don’t want to wake Ciri if she’s asleep. :)

He stared at his phone intently until about an eternity later, Geralt replied.

G — The child must not be an obstacle.

Jaskier snorted as he read the response. He read it aloud a couple of times trying to mimic Geralt’s rough husky voice and managed to give himself the giggles.

His phone buzzed again.

G — I can hear you laughing at me.

“Oh shit!” He almost dropped his phone and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Sorry Geralt!” He called into the air.

G— Hmm.

Jaskier scoffed. Who text back “Hmm”? And why did Jaskier still find that so attractive?

But never mind that! He had the green light. Operation Finally Make His Mother Proud, or FMHMP for short, and yes you could absolutely say that if you tried hard enough, was go! He was going to mow the lawn like a proper adult!

He tried for about six years to turn the mower on but without any success. He kicked the lawnmower in frustration and the whole damned thing fell apart.

“Fuck it!” He yelled as he hopped about on his good foot that hadn’t been battered by lawnmower.

He sulked back into the house and flopped down dramatically on the sofa. It was over. His mother was going to hate him and he would die as a disgrace to the Pankratz name and the Lettenhove estate.

He was half way through his pity party when the doorbell rang. He grabbed his phone to check the time. Strange, his mother wasn’t due for another three hours.

“What the fuck?” He mused and padded over to the door. To his surprise Geralt was standing on his doorstep with Ciri tucked safely into a baby sling on his chest and behind him was a shiny lawnmower. “Ah. Geralt!” He grinned.

Geralt turned to the lawnmower and back to him. “Thought you might need some help.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right. Yes. Of course. Come on in!” He stood back to let Geralt through. “Oh, actually do you want to come round the side gate? The lawnmower probably shouldn’t come through the house. I’ve just cleaned up.”

Geralt grunted but followed Jaskier around the side of the house and into the back garden.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He grumbled when he saw the state of the lawn. “I thought you said you were mowing the lawn, not trying to find it!”

“Ah, yes, well. That is an excellent point.” Jaskier stammered, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously. “You see my mother is visiting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother, how old are you? Twelve?”

Jaskier gaped at his neighbour. “Geralt!” He whined. “I’m twenty-nine! Mother is just a cow.”

“Hmm. Fine. Let’s do this.” Geralt pulled Ciri gently out of her sling and passed her to Jaskier. “Hold her. I need to grab her stuff. This will take longer than I thought.”

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier called after Geralt but it was too late and Ciri began to cry. “Umm. There there.” He cooed and rocked her gently. “Shall I sing you a lullaby, cub?”

She didn’t answer, babies rarely did, so he decided a lullaby would be fine and began to sing in hushed tones as he rocked her in his arms. Geralt wasn’t long but he seemed surprise to come back to Jaskier rocking his daughter to sleep in his arms.

“Hmm. She likes you.” Geralt noted.

He was carrying Ciri’s car seat and a bag was slung over his shoulder. In his other hand was a large electric contraption with some nasty blades at the end. He dumped the scary looking monster and placed the travel cot on the patio table. Once Ciri was safely asleep they got to work.

Or more accurately, Geralt got to work. Jaskier mostly just watched and made sure Geralt had all the refreshments he needed. He also kept the conversation going by listing all the grievances his mother had with him from her last visit, Geralt hummed and grunted but didn’t offer much in return but it didn’t matter. Jaskier was more than capable of holding an entire conversation by himself.

“And then she starts wittering on about how my sister has a perfect husband and a darling little angel.” Jaskier moaned. “So of course then it’s ‘Julian why don’t you have a wife?’”

“Julian?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glared at his neighbour. “Don’t ever call me that, I beg of you.”

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t. Just asking.”

“And I tell her, for the hundredth time, to say partner or spouse or lover or you know… not gender specific because she knows! Geralt! She knows. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her.” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, umm I’m bisexual just to give you some context there.”

Geralt nodded. “Right.”

“So of course she starts complaining that I always have to make everything gay, and I’m like… ‘Mother, I am gay!’” Jaskier announced with wide arms.

Geralt looked up at him, pausing halfway down the lawn that was now starting to resemble a lawn. “So why not tell her you’re seeing someone?” He asked. “Solve both problems if you say it’s a guy.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Until she asks to meet him.”

Geralt shrugged. “I could do it.”

Jaskier’s heart jumped in his chest. “You what? Geralt!”

“My ex has been bothering me about finding someone.” He grumbled. “Two birds, One stone.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at his insanely hot neighbour who was now apparently suggesting they… fake date??

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” Jaskier asked slowly. “You pretend to be my boyfriend for my mother’s visit and we what? Send a few photos to your ex to prove you’re moving on?”

Geralt smirked. “As long as you promise not to fall in love with me.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

Well fuck. _______

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #dad geralt #surprise fake dating #I could be persuaded to write a second part #let me know if you want part 2 #Update there will now be three parts #ask and you shall receive #the grass is greener

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acephysicskarkat · 3 years

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Duet

I was just packing up from practicing in my garage when Rosetta shot bolt upright.

Rosetta’s my dragon. She’s mostly a blue, but there aren’t any blue breeds that are crestbacks, so there’s definitely some other stuff in there. Her crest is also malformed, so it flops over to the right all the time instead of standing straight up like crests are supposed to. When I got my undercut, I made sure it flopped over to the right as well, so we matched. She seems to appreciate the ‘do when she’s riding on my shoulder.

Anyway, Rosetta’s awesome. Smarter than some people I’ve met, although to be fair I’ve met some really dumb people. Also, I’ve managed to teach her to play the drums. Some dragons have an amazing sense of music.

In this case, though, she’d apparently heard something in the bushes – yes, even though we’d both just been rocking out for the last twenty minutes. I don’t know how her ears work. I put down my electric guitar and went to have a look…

…and found a white dragon.

I looked up a lot of dragon breeds when I was a kid and obsessed with them, so I recognised him as a purebred at once. Specifically, he was a seraph – a rare and very expensive featherwing breed, with a long, wavy feather sticking out the back of his head like a ponytail.

“Hey there, little guy,” I said, keeping my voice gentle and sing-song – at least, as far as I could. “Someone’s gotta be missing you. Come on, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

Cold fangs nipped at my fingers, but after a few moments, the newcomer seemed to decide I could be trusted. A heart-shaped tag on a simple but expensive-looking collar told me that this was Ludwig, and gave an address. Needless to say, it was on the rich side of town; if you lived anywhere else, getting a seraph would probably leave you in a cardboard box.

“You up for a trip, little buddy?” I said, and Ludwig hopped up onto my wrist. “Great. Let’s go find your owner.”

***

The house Ludwig’s collar pointed me at wasn’t the biggest in the district, but since my house is basically six rooms including the garage, which doesn’t even have a car in it, it still made my place look like a shoebox. And here I was carrying a dragon probably worth as much as a car.

Some low, shitty part of me whispered that I should just run away and sell the thing, but I felt the comforting weight of Rosetta on my shoulder and shut that thought down. I knew how I’d feel if Rosetta went missing. I wasn’t going to inflict that on anyone, not even for a big sack of money.

I was just about to knock on the door when it swung open and all my brain’s resources were assigned to Being Gay simultaneously.

She was gorgeous. Blue eyes, a tight ponytail of night-dark hair, wearing a tailored shirt and elegant pants, carrying a handbag that probably cost more than anything I’d ever owned and holding a bundle of Missing Dragon posters with Ludwig’s picture on them and the legend “IF FOUND, CALL GWYNEIRA” and a number I couldn’t quite make out. Standing there in my leather jacket, pride pins on full display, an old skirt, hand-repaired glasses and big, tough boots, I felt like a nail driven into a classical painting. I had no business being here and I knew it.

After a frozen second, her face broke into a smile. “You found him! Thank you so much!”

“Uh.” My brain whirred for a few agonisingly slow seconds, and then some parts of it kicked into gear. “He was hanging around my garage. Must have heard my music and thought it sounded interesting.”

“Oh, a fellow musician!” she said. “What instrument, pray tell?”

“Well, I dabbled when I was a kid, but these days I mostly stick with the axe.”

“Axe? You mean a weapon?”

“No, I mean an electric-” A stray neuron sparked back to life. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She gave a too-innocent wide-eyed look and then started laughing. After a few moments, I did too.

She reached out, and Ludwig hopped across from my wrist to hers. She waggled a finger under the dragon’s snub little nose and said, “I hope you won’t be pulling any more disappearing acts, Ludwig.” Ludwig gave a smug, catlike smile and hopped up to her shoulder, and she turned back to me, reaching into her bag. “I didn’t have time to put the posters up, but I was planning to give a reward for finding him-”

Take the money, Vetra, you dumbass, the parts of my brain that were functioning said. Your amp is so old it was designed for the mandolin. Take the money, stick it in a jar, and when you have enough money, buy an amp that isn’t held together with baling twine.

Then my mouth, operating entirely independently from those parts, said, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” When my treacherous head nodded, she said, “Then at least allow me to buy you dinner.”

***

I was crammed into the only halfway decent dress I owned and had eaten something about half the size of an actual proper meal, but somehow I was still having a great time.

“So then we found the drummer hanging from the tree, in his underwear, rope around his ankle, and all he had to say when we let him down was, ‘I hate chipmunks.’” Gwyneira choked back a laugh, and I shook my head. “The band didn’t last long after that, although the bass player still crashes on my couch when he’s in town.”

“Such an…adventurous lifestyle,” she said, and sipped her wine.

“But I’ve probably rambled long enough.” I stabbed what I had been assured was the correct fork into a too-small morsel of chicken and said, “You said you were a musician, but you haven’t even told me what instrument.”

“Oh, how rude of me.” She cut a slice off…well, I don’t speak French, so whatever it was she was eating, and said, “I’m a violinist.”

“Huh. Just as a hobby, or-”

“Professionally.” She adjusted the cuffs on her suit, an outfit choice that was just deeply unfair. “Have you ever studied much classical music?”

Show her how smart you are. “Tell the truth, uh…I never really got into it. I like my music with a bit more impact to it, you know?” I mimed shredding on the air guitar. Nailed it.

“I think I can show you plenty of impact,” she said, her delicate features arranged into a cocky smirk. “Come to my place tomorrow afternoon, and bring your…‘axe’.”

***

Rosetta took a deep breath and spat lightning into the amplifier. For some reason, dragon thunder-breath doesn’t just charge a battery; it keeps it charging. I scratched her behind the ear, and she grinned up at me, then spread her wings and soared over to the drums.

Ludwig raised his head from the piano, and Gwyneira started to play.

Notes didn’t fall from the violin; they rose, soaring into the air like birdsong. Her voice, just as high and pure, mingled with it, underscored but never challenged by the slow, measured notes of Ludwig on the piano.

It was beautiful, but I wasn’t just here to listen.

I was here to play.

As the notes from the violin started to die away, I flicked my plectrum between my fingers like an old-time riverboat hustler playing with a coin. Rosetta chose the tempo, her bunched-up claws striking the drums, a drumstick wrapped in her tail striking a cymbal, and my axe sang as I began: not the high, pure note of birdsong, but the howl of an iron wolf.

After a few bars, the piano started up again, but without its previous dignity and reserve. Ludwig, apparently, relished the chance to cut loose a bit. His claws struck the keys with speed rather than precision, keeping up with the beat of the drum and the snarl of the electric guitar, mixing in the occasional, perfectly timed glissando.

Then the violin’s song started up again.

Gwyneira’s eyes were closed, but she was keeping up with the much faster tempo like she was born to it, her bow dancing over the strings. Her violin and my guitar weaved notes around each other, twining together like the tails of dragons in love. It was like we were instinctively opening spaces for the other to slip into, letting the instruments work together rather than battle for dominance.

It was the kind of jam session you usually only get once in a lifetime.

***

Anyway, that’s how I met my girlfriend.

I own some nicer clothes, now. I speak a little French. And, you know, I’m starting to get along with classical music. I mean, give me the faster ones any day – you should hear my cover of Rondo Alla Turca on the electric guitar, it’ll knock your socks off – but, you know, we meet halfway.

And I mean halfway. Gwyneira looks like a goddess in anything, but when she’s let her hair out of its ponytail? When she’s at a rock concert, just letting it all out, headbanging along? It’s amazing. She’s amazing.

There have been challenges – you try finding good homes for an entire clutch of half-seraph, half-mongrel dragon hatchlings sometime – but we’re going pretty damn well. She’s even talked about starting a proper band – weaving classical and rock together.

And if that never comes to pass? If we can’t get a gig or find a good rhythm guitar? At least we can still jam together.

#original fiction #dragons #rock and roll stories #quick romance fiction #fluff #i guess

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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years

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Chapter 29 Part II

“You want me to what?” Nelly said, laughing. “I’m just about to wash my hair. I can’t.”

“Wash your hair?” said Buster, as though he’d never heard such a preposterous thing.

“Yes, wash my hair. I told you before, I do it every Saturday.”

It wasn’t just the disruption in her toilette that made her hesitate. If staying at Buster’s bungalow was risky, stepping across the threshold of the Villa door when he was supposedly alone was downright dangerous. She didn’t trust that an important item hadn’t been left behind and that Natalie wouldn’t pop back in at any moment to retrieve it. She could also picture a sudden return due to illness, perhaps indigestion or the heat of the May sun.

“Poppycock,” said Buster, when she aired these fears.

“How so?”

“They left for the train station at six this morning. Won’t be back for a whole week.”

“Yes, but …”

Buster told her all the ways in which her misgivings were foolish. “You can spend the night,” he added, in a teasing, tempting tone.

“I can’t,” she said. She ignored the instant flash of heat between her legs at his words.

“Don’t you wanna see where I sleep?”

The heat prickled. She did. “Do you think I’m that easy?” she said, not ready to quite surrender.

Buster laughed. “I do. Anyway, you can wash your hair here. I have a bathtub, you know. And a shower.”

Nelly gave it some consideration. “You promise everyone is gone?” she said at last. She wanted to add Your children, your wife, and your servants? but trusted he knew what she meant.

“Not a soul except you and me, sweetheart.”

“Okay, I give in,” she said. “Don’t think I think it’s a good idea, though, because I don’t.”

Buster showed up forty-five minutes later, parking a few houses down on Genesee Avenue. He had tipped her off that he was coming in a black Gardner car. It was rather ordinary-looking, his butler’s personal vehicle he’d said, and she understood why he’d chosen it. In the bright morning light, one of his luxury cars would have been more conspicuous than it was in the late evenings when he usually came around. He sat in the driver’s seat almost completely concealed behind a newspaper as she approached, carrying her handbag and a small satchel with some clothing.

“Good morning,” she said, after opening the passenger door and settling herself inside. She couldn’t help herself grinning ear from ear at the sight of him. It was only the third time she’d seen him since he’d returned from New York.

“Morning,” he said, answering her smile. He folded the paper and tossed it in the backseat. “You ready to be queen of a castle for a day?”

“I will be a guest of the castle,” she said, raising an eyebrow. Joke or not, the idea of her somehow taking Natalie Talmadge’s place at the Villa made her uneasy. Thoughts of Mistress Nell Gwyn, which she’d long since finished reading, flashed through her mind.

“Alright, guest then.” He turned the key in the ignition and then swung the car onto the road.

After he had shifted the car up to a comfortable traveling speed, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. She knew him well enough already to know that he wasn't the type to say things like ‘I missed you’ out loud, it just wasn’t him. The kiss said it all the same.

Truth be told, as much as Nelly was glad to see him, she was nervous to be even a guest at the Villa and not simply because Natalie could return at any moment. She could forget that Buster occupied a different world when they were at her apartment or the modest bungalow outside the M-G-M gates; she could not forget it amidst the splendor and sumptuousness of the Villa. Moreover, the Villa was Natalie’s territory, built with her in mind as Buster had once told her. It didn’t feel right sneaking around her house while she was gone.

When Buster shifted down a gear again, he kept her hand in his so that her hand was also on the stick. He drove that way for several minutes, whistling, caressing her hand beneath his. Nelly was occupied enough without conversation, half fretting about setting foot inside the Villa, half wondering at the mansions of Beverly Hills, sprawling cream chateaus in the French and Mediterranean styles, most with red roofs. They all seemed to be variations of the Villa, or vice versa.

Her stomach grew jittery as the meticulous, manicured hills of the Villa came into view. Buster went up the drive, still whistling cheerfully, oblivious to her discomfort. He pulled the car through the circle drive with the fountain, shifted down, and turned it off.

“M’lady,” he said gravely when he opened her door. She handed him her satchel and he took her hand with his free one and helped her down. The fountain burbled pleasantly as she looked up at Buster’s palace. She should have been bright with anticipation, but all that she felt was a gnawing dread.

“Sure they’re gone?” she said.

“Sure as anything,” Buster said, burying his face in the side of her neck and kissing it abundantly. For once, it failed to distract her.

“Alright.”

He took her hand again and pulled her up the steps and to the mahogany door with its interlocking diamond-patterned metalwork. Electric light burned in the large black iron sconces by the door even though it was day. Still holding her hand, Buster turned the door handle and pushed inside. Nelly was now back in the dimly lit vestibule with the red-brick floor. The house was cool and had a distinctive smell, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, which announced that a particular family lived there. It was larger and more sober than she remembered without its gay partygoers. She followed Buster into the foyer. With the great stone staircase and wrap-around stone balcony encompassing the upstairs, the house really did feel like a castle.

“Loosen up,” Buster said, setting down her satchel and giving her shoulder a squeeze.

She attempted a smile. “I’m sorry.”

“I wanna show you around,” said Buster. Nelly bent to get her satchel and he tugged her away. “Leave it. We’ll get it later. You can hang up your bag, too.”

Reluctantly, she looped the strap of her bag around the hook of an opulent hall tree. It too appeared to be made of mahogany. Their feet echoed on the marble checkerboard floor.

“This is the breakfast room,” Buster was saying as they went up some steps and into a smallish room with a simple white wicker table and matching chairs. Heavy curtains were drawn over the windows. He paused to let her gaze around her for several moments before leading her down another set of steps and into a room with a tiled floor, a trickling marble fountain topped with a cherub, and numerous palms and ferns. “And this here’s the conservatory on account of all the plants.” Nelly could only stare, marveling that there was an entire room just for plants. “The kids like playing behind ‘em, the plants, but I don’t much see the purpose of a conservatory,” Buster said, almost to himself. “That’s what it is though, and this next room’s the dining room.”

They ascended another small set of steps. Only one leaf was in the table and only four chairs were gathered around it though additional chairs sat against the walls. It was a table, in other words, for a family of four. It more than anything else she’d seen so far reminded Nelly of Buster’s other life, his real life, the part that she was shut off from. Clearly excited to be showing her around, he still hadn’t noticed her uneasiness, so she smiled and praised the pretty painted ceiling beams and the large, expensive oriental rug that the dining set was placed on.

“Servants are on this side, too, and so’s the kitchen. I’ll show you the kitchen later if you want.”

Next he took her back to the foyer and they went left into the living room. Nelly remembered from the party and said so. It was more cavernous than she’d recollected. There was the great stone fireplace, the sofa, some chairs and a side table with a fresh arrangement of flowers. She noticed another palace-sized oriental rug, a mirror, and a coal box. There were so many expensive items to catch her eye. Before she had time to adjust, Buster was pulling her in another direction.

“I call this my playroom.”

The playroom contained a big billiards table, a bar, and a small table the precise size for four card players. The ceiling was wood-paneled and beamed. A phonograph player and armchair sat off to one side.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, and added in a moment of honesty, “It’s a lot.”

Buster came up and put his arms around her waist, resting his head on her chin. He smelled like cigarettes and Brilliantine. She could tell he was feeling amorous, but she was too tightly wound to relax into his arms. “Why don’t you show me the grounds?” she said, to head him off.

He withdrew his arms, seeming to catch on that she wasn’t in the mood. “Why, sure.”

They went out of a loggia off of the living room and Buster let her explore the grounds at her pace. For some reason, even though she was more exposed outdoors to anyone who might be around, she felt more secure. Buster’s sense of opulence was not restricted to the interior. Nelly saw the tennis court and push-button trout stream, and walked down to the extravagant pool, which looked tempting and refreshing as it glinted in the sun. She sat sideways in a pool chair and rubbed her ankle absently. “It’s a lot of space, isn’t it?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Buster agreed. He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket and lit it. He stood smoking and looking into the pool.

“I’m afraid I find it all a little overwhelming,” she said.

“Oh, I can tell,” said Buster, redirecting his gaze to her. “There ain’t no need to feel that way, you know. It’s a house, is all.”

“It’s a palace, Buster. It’s marvelously beautiful, it’s just …” She looked around her.

“Hmm.” Buster closed the space between them and sat next to her.

Nelly touched his knee. “I just forget sometimes that you’re King Charles and I’m Nell the orange-seller.”

“Bull,” said Buster.

Nelly traced patterns on his knee and didn’t answer. The water in the pool lapped in a soothing way and smoke from his cigarette drifted into her face.

“So what’s your castle in the air, then?” said Buster, waving away the smoke.

“Me?” She looked into his eyes. “You know, silly. A Shakespeare talkie. What comes after, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far.”

“No, I mean when it comes to real castles. What would you do different?” He inclined his head at the Villa.

“Oh, well … I’d shrink it down, naturally,” she said. “Maybe just one story or maybe a bungalow with a little room or two upstairs.” She’d never thought of what her ideal home might look like, but warmed to the idea at once. “It would have plenty of bookshelves and lots of books. Floor to ceiling. I’d have a collection of plays. Maybe I’d have a collection of records, too. There would be space to dance.”

“Even if you were a star?”

“I suppose. I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine having so much money.”

“Easiest thing in the world to spend money if you’ve got it. Everyone does when they do.” Buster flicked the spent cigarette to the marble flagstones and crushed it with his heel.

Nelly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be cross with me. You just have to let me get used to it. It all makes me so nervous.”

“I should have figured it would, the way you were acting at my party,” he said, in a somewhat sullen tone of voice. “Guess it’s my fault for asking you over.”

She kissed his cheek. “Give me a chance to get used to it. You know, maybe a drink would help.” She hadn’t shared a drink with him since his party, but figured it was the fastest path to getting more comfortable.

“You want a drink?” Buster said, brightening.

“Yes. Make me a drink,” she said, squeezing his hand.

They went up the white marble steps past the impeccably trimmed topiaries that lined it and decorated its center and back through the loggia and into the living room. Buster led her into the playroom. “What’ll it be?” he said.

“Something that isn’t whiskey, please,” she said, taking a seat in the armchair.

“Gin Rickey?” he said.

“That’s fine,” she said, not quite knowing what a Gin Rickey was but happy to find out.

She stole long glances of the room as Buster stood with his back to her and mixed the drink. She could grow to like this room, she decided. Of all the places in the house she’d seen so far, it seemed the most like the man that she knew, always eager for a game of some kind, in love with his comforts.

“Here you are,” said Buster, appearing at her side to hand her the drink.

It was clear and bubbly, garnished with a wedge of lime. She took a cautious sip and tasted pine and lime. “It’s delicious,” she said, smiling at him.

Buster returned the smile. “Good.” He went back to the bar to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Game of billiards?” he said, standing before her again.

Nelly took a generous swallow of the cocktail and although he was sure to have an insurmountable advantage over her said, “Sure.”

She went over to the billiards table and Buster walked over to the wall to push a button. To her marvel, a long, lavish metal light decorated with scrolls descended from the ceiling. He pushed another button and light was cast over the red-velvet billiards table. Buster smiled at her astonishment and flipped open a built-in cabinet, from which he selected a couple of cue sticks. He handed one to her.

“Ready to get whupped?” he said. “Your turn first.”

“No, you,” she said firmly. “You need all the advantages you can get.”

Buster laughed. “You’re pretty confident, kid.”

It was a lie, of course. She’d never played the game well but didn’t want to show how green she was. She could at least try to mimic his form if he went first. He lifted the triangle away from the balls and went to the south end of the table holding the cue ball. She watched him place it in the left corner of the table and chalk the tip of his stick. Not missing a beat, he laid his left arm on the table and threaded the cue through his forefinger, then pulled his right arm back. It seemed as though he barely tapped the cue ball, but the pyramid of balls went scattering. “I call stripes,” he said, after watching to see where all the balls went.

Nelly took a large gulp of her drink and set it on a nearby table. She was remembering Buster shooting billiards in a film whose name escaped her. Each shot had been impossible. “How did you do those trick shots in that one picture of yours?” she said, grasping her cue stick.

“Sherlock, Jr.?”

“I think that was the one.”

“What’ll I get for telling?” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

“I’ll let you win, perhaps,” she said.

That made him laugh. “It was practice. Four god damn months of practice. I had a teacher, one of the best players there is, and it still took us five days to get all the shots. Quit stalling, though. It’s your turn.”

Nelly stuck out her tongue and leaned over the table as she’d seen Buster do.

“No, no, no, you didn’t chalk your stick.” He took it out of her hands and wiped the piece of chalk around the tip. “Here.”

Rolling her eyes, she took the stick back and again set up her shot. She aimed at a solid green six-ball and shot. Instead, she hit a striped eleven-ball and didn’t get anywhere near any of the pockets.

“Oh Nelly,” said Buster, laughing.

She didn’t mind that she was going to lose to him. It was worth it to see the way his grin lit up his face. “I’m deliberately putting you at your ease,” she said, narrowing her eyes and lifting her nose. She wandered over to her glass of Gin Rickey and finished it.

“Want another?” said Buster, gesturing.

She nodded.

They went on like that for the next half-hour, taking turns at the table. Buster beat her handily in three out of three games. “You can’t play at all,” he said with mild incredulity, after all of his balls were in their pockets at the end of round three.

Nelly set her drink (it was her third) on the table and hopped up onto the edge of the table. She was feeling happy and free and relaxed now. “So I told a fib,” she said, smiling and swinging her legs. “So what?”

Buster couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You’re awful bold.” He positioned himself between her legs and tilted his head up for a kiss. She pressed her mouth to his, tasting whiskey. “Want a lesson on form?” he offered. She shook her head, stroking her finger across his lower lip. “Well, what do you want?”

“You tell me,” she said. She traced a finger across his cheekbone and his eyelids grew heavy. His lips parted.

“It involve a bed?” he said, sounding dreamy.

“Maybe.” She grabbed the rest of her drink and finished it. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second floor. C’mon.” Buster helped her down from the billiards table and took her hand again. She followed him up the grand stone staircase and onto the landing. He paused a few moments to unlatch a heavy wrought-iron gate. He led her through it and down a short hall, then took a right into a small circular vestibule with an intercom and dumbwaiter. Before Nelly had a chance to ask where they were, he pulled her through the next doorway.

She knew at once that the bedroom wasn’t his. There were too many feminine tells: a mint-green screen decorated with flowers, a lamp with a pink shade, French perfume bottles on a bureau. Buster was nibbling her throat, but Nelly was looking over his head at the photographs of his children hanging on the walls. He steered her over to the edge of the king-sized bed and pushed her to a seated position. It sat atop a platform and was the biggest bed she’d ever seen. He sat beside her and started working on the dress buttons at the back of her neck.

“Oh, we can’t,” she said, pushing his hands away.

“Huh?” said Buster, looking affronted. “Why not? Thought you wanted to.”

“I do, but not on your wife’s bed. Buster, it would be wrong.” She stood up.

“Look, I never once made love to her on this bed.” He appeared confused. “No one’s made love on this bed. She don’t do that. Not with me, not with anyone.”

“It’s not just that. It’s—I don’t want to take her place anywhere. I don’t want to be in her room,” she said. Her head was fizzy with Gin Rickeys, but she was never more sure of herself. She turned on her heel and walked back to the vestibule.

Buster’s footsteps followed her. He caught her arm. “Don’t be like that, I didn’t mean to upset you.” His face was so soft and pleading that she couldn’t stay angry with him.

“I know you didn’t,” she said, though ignorance didn’t excuse his mistake. She stood dumbly as Buster ran a hand up and down her arm.

“Want me to take you home?” he said, voice remorseful.

“No. No, I don’t.” She smiled at his doubt and put her arms around him, softening further. “Let’s just stick to other parts of your house, alright?”

“Alright. Well, can I take you to my bedroom?”

She had to bite back another smile at his persistence. “Sure.”

A similar round vestibule preceded Buster’s bedroom. This led to a small hall which led into the main bedchamber. Both his room and his bed were half the size of Natalie’s. The curtains were drawn, making the room dark and cool. Nelly tried not to look too hard at the photographs. There was one of his sons in front of a large dressing mirror that connected his two bureaus.

“I built that,” he said, thinking she was admiring the mirror and dressers. “Designed it myself. Gabe helped me build it at my old studio.”

She was surprised at this bit of trivia. There were very few areas into which Buster’s talents didn’t extend, it seemed. “It’s a handsome piece of furniture,” she said. She noticed that the picture opposite his sons’ had been turned onto its face and attempted to give it no more thought.

“Sorry the bed’s not made, but the servants are gone for the weekend.”

“You can’t make your own bed?” said Nelly, turning to him and giving him a playful pinch. Her nervousness had begun to melt away again now that they were out of Natalie’s territory.

“What’s the point? It’s just going to get mussed up if I make it.” He returned to kissing her neck and this time Nelly tried to force her nerves away. His lips were soft, his breath was warm, and that was all that mattered.

In no time, they’d gotten onto the bed. Buster bent over her, his leg threaded between hers, kissing her fiercely and clutching one of her breasts. She ran her hands up and down his back as his tongue entered her mouth. The bed smelled like him and she imagined, vaguely, what it would be like to wake up next to him in it, tumbled in these expensive blankets and sheets; to watch him dress and get ready for the studio; to see him off with a kiss and spend the rest of the day in idleness and frivolity, waiting for him to return home so they could go to dinner or attend a party at Pickfair. She couldn’t make up her mind whether that sort of life would be the meaning of happiness or unbearably stifling. Realizing that her thoughts had wandered again, she brought herself back to the present by sliding her finger into the seam of Buster’s button-up shirt and easing one of the mother-of-pearl buttons from its hole. Buster withdrew his hand from her breast and knit his arms behind her back so he could do her the same courtesy, plucking open buttons as they kissed. When all buttons had been accounted for, Buster sat up and pulled his arms out of his sleeves, while she stepped off of the bed and out of her dress.

“Now,” said Buster, when she was back on the bed. “Where were we?”

“You tell me,” she said, looking down at his lap. He was still wearing his dark grey trousers.

He grasped her by her bare shoulders and steered her onto her back. As he crouched on top of her, caging her in with his hands and knees, she reached down to undo his trousers. Her fingers brushed against his erection and he moaned, appreciative of the contact. She let her lower instincts drive her when the buttons were undone. It was natural to stroke him just so, to lick at his ear, to tell him how hot he was making her, but these actions, done of intuition, left energy for her mind to resume its peregrinations. It took so little to make Buster happy, and was no great chore to content him in bed. He liked all the usual things that men did. None of the deviations that she’d heard whispered about Charlie Chaplin during his divorce seemed to hold any interest for Buster. He never desired sex to such a degree that it was burdensome. Admittedly, she felt just as passionate for him as he did for her, but she tried to consider what it would be like if she didn’t. She still didn’t see what the harm would be in indulging him, in keeping his bed warm. Too little payment for so great a debt.

She clung to his neck and kissed it while he inched her knickers down. He entered her with a sigh a few moments later. He hadn’t mentioned a prophylactic and she hadn’t asked. It was easy to forget sense when he made love to her. She forgot, too, what time it was and that they were at the Villa. Instead, her mind coasted along currents of pleasure, following each one to its length until she encountered the next.

“Flip over,” said Buster, pulling her out of the reverie she’d sunk into.

“Hmm?” she said.

He withdrew from her body and sat up on his haunches. “Right here.” He patted a portion of the bed to indicate. “But with your head toward the mirror and your feet sorta pointed at the pillows.” He tugged off his undershirt.

Her heart pounded. They’d only ever made love on their sides or with Buster on top. She unhooked her brassiere, wriggled onto her stomach, and stretched out, her head facing the mirror.

“Now, I’d like it if you…” He sucked in breath as he dragged a finger from the top of her neck to the slight swell above her bottom. “Get up on your hands and knees.”

Her pulse throbbed. To obey him would be downright wicked, not respectable, not ladylike, but the moment Buster made the request she perceived what a superb idea it was. She rose to the position that he wanted her in and arched her back.

Two words. “Oh, Christ.” She had never heard his voice sound like that, dark and worshipful, like he was a pauper and had been handed a sack full of gold objects.

He lined himself up behind her, and there was a quick mutual adjustment of legs and feet before he entered her. Following instinct again, she pushed back to meet him. She closed her eyes to savor the new pleasure. As a consequence, it took her a couple minutes to realize Buster’s reasoning behind the position. When she blinked her lids open, in such a daze that it felt like she’d drunk ten Gin Rickeys, she saw them in the mirror together, Buster rising above her backside with abs standing out in stark relief, one arm stretched along her back and anchored on her shoulder. His eyes met hers and she pushed back. Not breaking her gaze, he pushed forward. She’d never seen herself in such a way before, her arms splayed, her hair starting to fall out of its chignon, her breasts swinging with every push by Buster. His breath was fast and hard. He was muttering sweet things to her through his moans, Oh darling and You’re so good. For her part, she’d never been so excited.

He wouldn’t last like this, but she sensed that he wasn’t meant to. She gave another push back and he broke against her with a choked cry. “I can’t, Nelly, oh I can’t …!” He doubled over her and clutched her breasts, gasping as he came in her. She met his uneven thrusts, grinding herself against him for all she was worth, craving those last frissons of euphoria before he withdrew. She lifted her eyes to the mirror and watched him pull out and collapse on his back against the mound of his pillows, his chest heaving. Her arms were sore as she drew alongside him, but the pain was distant.

Only when she met his eyes did she realize what had just happened. Buster’s groggy look of pleasure was changing to fear. “I was trying to say, ‘I can’t stop,’ ” he said, feeling for her hand and squeezing her fingers when he found it.

Impossibly, she’d forgotten that there was no barrier between them. She dipped a hand between her legs and encountered the excess wetness there.

“I’m so sorry,” said Buster. She’d never seen such an expression of worry on his face.

She propped herself on her elbows, still half in a daze from their love-making. “Do you have a—where are your pants? Your handkerchief.” She had trouble commanding the words.

Buster slipped off the bed and picked up his trousers, feeling in the pocket. Wordless, he handed her the white square of cloth. She wiped away as much of the wetness as she could. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said, after she’d bunched up the cloth and thrown it clear of the bed. She was now beginning to feel worried, but only because he seemed so worried. “The chances are very, very small.”

He was standing at the foot of the bed running a hand through his disheveled hair. “If it comes to that,” he said, in a halting way that told her he was still arranging his thoughts. “If it does, I’ll help you sort it out no matter what. Okay?”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Come here.” When he was close enough, she pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Don’t worry.” In her head, she was counting up the days since her monthlies had appeared last week. She came up to eleven, not quite the midpoint. The midpoint was when most women conceived. She looked up at Buster. The furrow beneath his brows was deep. “Please. Stop worrying.”

He sat next to her and knit his hands together and stared ahead. She thought she detected a peculiar luster to his eyes.

“Darling, it’s as much my fault as it is yours. I forgot too.” She reached out and brushed the hair back from his forehead. “There’s no point in worrying unless I’m late.”

“I won’t go without a thin from now on,” said Buster, as though he hadn’t heard her.

Her head began to ache. The Gin Rickeys had worn off. “Please. Please stop worrying.”

Without any warning, Buster threw his arms around her and clasped her tight, so much that he took some of the breath out of her. He held her like that for several long moments, not saying a thing, before releasing her. “Alright, I will,” he said.

“Good.” She held his cheek in her hand until he looked her in the eyes and she was satisfied at what she saw in his. “Now I’m the one who’s hungry this time. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Buster seemed to cheer up a fraction. His voice sounded a bit sunnier as he said, “What would you like?”

“Oh, anything. Whatever you want. I’m sure I’ll like it.”

Nelly thought they dressed more somberly than usual this time, collecting articles of clothing from the bed and floor and pulling them on without saying a word. Despite her reassurances to Buster, the weight of her predicament was beginning to settle on her. All the canteen lunches on the set of Steamboat and at United Artists had taught her that there were two choices for girls whose famous lovers had put them into a condition. They could go away for a period of confinement and give up the child when it was born. Or they were put in touch with a doctor who could take care of their situation.

Buster disappeared as she was buttoning up her dress and she heard the faint sound of his voice from down the hall. He was speaking to someone. She froze. Natalie must be back. She looked around in horror and spotted a doorway to the left of the bureau. She hastened through it and found herself in a bathroom. Hiding in the shower would be absurd, but it was the best place to conceal herself. She decided to wait to hear if footsteps approached first. The seconds dragged on. Her pulse thudded and her head throbbed in an angry way. At long last, she heard someone enter the room, but there was just one set of footsteps. “Nelly?” Buster called.

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and made her way to the doorway. “Are you alone?” she said in undertones.

Buster, who was standing at the foot of his bed, looked toward her in bafflement.

“ ‘Course I’m alone. What do you mean?”

Relief descended and she came back into the bedroom. “Who were you talking to?”

Buster gave her an odd look. “Caruthers. Ordering food.”

Although she was comforted to hear that Natalie had not made an unexpected return, she was dismayed to hear that someone else was in the house with them. “I thought you said everyone was gone?”

“They are,” he said. “I can’t go without Caruthers, though. He does all the cooking. And I need someone to fetch things if I need ‘em. I can’t just go out like you.”

“Oh,” said Nelly, somehow not feeling satisfied with this explanation.

Buster gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He knows about us, anyway. And before you go worrying, he’ll never breathe a word. I trust him with my life.”

She wasn’t happy to hear that Buster had given away their secret. Though the butler had been friendly the night he had driven her home, she knew that servants gossiped. Perhaps male servants didn’t do it to the extent that female ones did, but she didn’t think it was worth chancing. “If you think so,” she said, not able to keep the skepticism from her voice.

“Buck up,” said Buster. “Anyway, how else was I supposed to get you a nice dinner tonight?”

Tonight. The Gin Rickeys, the dark room, and the torrid love-making made her forget it was still daylight out, but of course it couldn’t be past two or two-thirty. She stepped toward the mirror and took in her disarrayed hair. “If he knows I’m here, I ought to fix my hair before I go back downstairs.”

Buster smiled and looked self-satisfied. “Ain’t no need for you to go anywhere. Go on and fix your hair, and I’ll call you when the grub’s here.” He took a silver brush from his bureau and handed it to her.

She stayed in the bathroom until Buster yelled for her, not wanting to be caught in the room when the butler wheeled in a cart of food. It would be too uncomfortable. She stepped into the bedroom but didn’t see Buster. “Where are you?”

“In here.”

She followed the sound of his voice and, feeling cautious, went down the hall and into the vestibule where she saw Buster holding a silver tray with both hands. It held two or three covered dishes. He cocked his head at a dumbwaiter she had not noticed earlier where there was a smaller tray holding glasses and soda pop bottles.

“You grab those there,” he said.

She did as she was told and they went through another door of the vestibule and onto a balcony, where there was a small table and a few bistro chairs. “Oh my,” she said, as she caught sight of the view. The balcony was directly over the east portion of the house, which stretched out at an angle beneath them. That was not what had taken her breath away, however. From here, there was a perfect view of the marble steps, swimming pool, and tennis court, and sloping away from them, the estate wandered down to the great flower bed beside the winding drive that they had come up. It wandered farther still, past the palms and shrubs, and then there were mansions as far as the eye could see in every direction, beautiful mansions so well-arranged on the hills that they looked the very picture of an Italian town. That was where all of Hollywood lived, Marion Davis, Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, Norma Shearer, Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd, and here she was among them dining with Buster Keaton. For a minute, she felt far removed from her previous life in Evanston and her current one as a humble extra and prop manager, tasting what it must be like to be a movie star.

“Like it?” said Buster, setting the tray on the table.

Nelly nudged her tray next to his, considered the warm sun on her shoulders and the breeze, smelling earthy and almost living, and nodded. Maybe it was the view, maybe it was laughing and eating fresh strawberries and cream with Buster after they’d finished purée of potato soup and veal cutlets, but from that hour forward she took a better liking to the Villa and began to see it as he did. Her worries were, for the remainder of the evening at least, set aside.

Notes: Are you surprised by this chapter? I was. What I had in mind was just a nice rendezvous for Nelly with Buster at the Villa, but there was much more tension and conflict and unexpected directions than I’d thought. The length also got away from me, but I hope you won’t mind that. It’s hard to explain, but when you’re writing--when you’re immersed in your characters--sometimes they just act on their own and you just follow. Did I intend for Buster and Nelly to have unprotected sex that resulted in Buster accidentally finishing in her? No. Did I intend for Nelly to be so resistant to Buster’s home, help, and all the rest? No. I just wrote and the characters’ natural actions suggested themselves without a single thought on my part. I think I will wrap this chapter up for now and just call the next one Chapter 30, even though it takes place the same day and same place. And yeah, that’s a photo of Buster in his bedroom. Dreamy, huh?

#Buster Keaton #fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #Golden Age Hollywood #silent film

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liahswriting · 3 years

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Lovesick Six and a Murderous Robot Boyfriend

Relationship(s): Revenant/original female character, Wraith/original female character, Mirage/original female character, Bloodhound/original female character, Octane/original female character, Crypto/original female character, Loba/original female character

Words: 8,411

Warnings: None

Summary: The new girl is very pretty and she's got most of the men (and some of the women) pining for her. Problem is, she's got her eyes set on a certain simulacrum.

Pretty girls can fight. Pretty girls can be tough. Pretty girls can be scary and threatening. Just because Gia was pretty didn't mean she didn't belong in the Games. I mean, Loba was almost perfect in every physical way and yet she knew her way around a pistol. Che had a cute face and yet her teams almost always were Champion. And of course Elliott was downright the most handsome man in the Games and yet he could wipe a team if need be. Being attractive didn't mean you were weak. In fact, Gia being attractive gave her an advantage to the game. After all, how could a pretty girl like her be any trouble? You think you're safe because look how cute she is, what is she gonna do to you? And then all of a sudden you're eating dirt because she shoved a wingman up your ass and annihilated you.

Gia's origins are unknown to the rest of the Legends. She showed up one day unexpectedly and won Champion that same afternoon. Her kit and abilities brought a whole new playstyle to the Games: a playstyle that both terrified and intrigued the others. Her enhanced vision gave her every input she needed to weaken your team's defenses. She knew exactly whose health was hanging on by a thread, giving her the ultimate advantage to breaking your team apart and dwindling your numbers until you were way beyond outmatched. The Legends assumed she had some sort of black market enhancement done to her eyes given the fact that they were far from being normal. How she managed to slip through the Apex recruitment with her fiercely white irises was beyond everyone. I mean, come on! The girl's eyes were as white as snow all around! The only color to them was a very faint, needle-thin black line separating her sclera from her iris. Everything else was pure white. Even her pupil. Crypto was already walking on thin ice with his illegal body enhancements. The only reason no one actually paid much attention to it was simply because his modifications didn't directly impact his abilities in the arena. But Gia was a whole other story.

Typically, the Legends expect Silva to dive head first into a fire fight with his stim. Or perhaps they'll see Crypto's drone following them around. And on occasion a team will back out of a fight to heal up and end up running into another team holding a choke point with Wattson's electric fences. All of this was expected. And then Gia came along and now every Legend that wasn't on her team was afraid of her tactical EMP that disabled all enemy primary weapons. You could pin her team down and you think you're gonna win, and then all of a sudden your Devotion stops all functionality and now you have to rely on your Alternator with 20 shots left in the chamber.

As if that wasn't enough of a fright, instead of Makoa's air strike landing on your head or Bloodhound storming up behind you faster than humanly possible, Gia's big trick messed with your mind and your vision. In the blink of an eye, you are no longer able to discern who is teammate and who is enemy. And it's not as simple to just say "Wraith is not on my team. I need to shoot her" because the enemy Wraith you're staring down through a 4x-8x will suddenly appear as your friendly Pathfinder and your friendly Pathfinder will suddenly appear as the enemy Wraith. It was more likely to die via friendly fire than enemy fire when Gia's ultimate activated.

The only reprieve the other Legends got was finding out that she was insanely friendly. Thank god too because no one needed another Dr. Nox or another Revenant on their team. Gia was friendly with everyone she interacted with. Despite her scary demeanor, she got along rather excellently with the other Legends. And that's when most of the trouble started.

It all started off as friendly taunts. Elliott took the first step and made a move on her immediately. After all, she's beautiful, he's beautiful, it only made sense for the two of them to date. They could be the ultimate power couple. Their two beautiful faces displayed up high on the Champion banners. It was a dream. But she politely shut him down. Still, he tried again. And she laughed and played along. "My my, Mr. Witt. Aren't you the massive charmer!" This caught the attention of the daredevil himself and he attempted to get under Elliott's skin by literally sliding by them in the arena and dropping the biggest pickup line she's ever heard. "Aye, amiga. Thanks for brightening up the place with your beautiful face." and then he put a couple bullets in Witt's stomach. Silva's team went down immediately for that stunt and Elliott was able to be picked back up, but his idea worked. Elliott was obviously mad at the green-haired adrenaline junkie after the game for trying to steal "his girl" but it was all in good fun when she turned him down too. Bloodhound soon was seen at her side more often than not. He found her skills fascinating and her air of mystery perfectly matched his own. They had sort of an unspoken bond between them, connected solely on the fact that both of their lives were an enigma. Everyone asked her about herself but she never opened up. When it was just her and Bloodhound, neither one even dared to ask the other about their past. It was comforting being able to sit with someone and not have to worry about prying curiosities. Bloodhound attempted to flirt; there was lots of hand touches and close sitting. Yet she turned him down too.

After that it became an unofficial competition between the three of them to see who could win her over, which lead to a lot of showing off and friendly banter. Elliott would throw pickup line after pickup line at her. Silva did crazy stunts to impress her. Bloodhound brought her tea every morning. And yet nothing ever came of it. Gia would play along every now and again but at the end of the day she made it clear she was just playing. Still didn't stop the men from trying.

And then Loba joined the crowd. And boy oh boy was that a surprise. The chick was into chicks! "Did you clowns ever stop and think that maybe you don't have the right parts she's looking for?" Loba taunted them. But she was right, of course. None of the men asked Gia if she was even straight. But it was still all laughs and good times regardless if she ever found an interest in them. Loba had other ideas in mind. She was thoroughly convinced that Gia was full on gay, looking to get it on with another girl. And Loba believed she was just the girl to get her rocks off. Loba was much more blunt than the men ever were in their affection. That night while all the Legends were winding down with some drinks and enjoying the royalties they made from the recent Game, Loba approached Gia and asked her if she would like to join the seductive thief in a private area away from the loud crowd. When she agreed, the three men that had been pining for her started to believe Loba was right all along. Loba and Gia were gonna do it! Loba was gonna fuck the new girl before they were! As much as Elliott enjoyed the thoughts that put into his mind (and trust me, he enjoyed them a lot), he was upset that all of his attempts had been for naught.

Loba and Gia had disappeared for hours and the three men all huddle together in somber at their ultimate defeat. Elliott poured several rounds of drinks for them in solidarity and they cheered a farewell to their playful challenge. It was Gia 's friendly "What's wrong, boys?" that gathered their attention mid-mope. Silva was just about to tell her of their shallow depression when he spotted Loba stiffly walking up to the bar for another drink with a pout on her face. The thief looked just as pristine as when she and Gia disappeared. Not a single wrinkle in her clothes nor a thread of hair out of place in its braids. So she was wrong!

"Nada, bonita. We're all good here!" he happily told her and shot back what was left of his current drink. "Right, guys?" he nudged them with a big 'ole grin on his face. Neither of them picked up on his hints but they agreed with him anyway. She didn't buy it for one second and got another round for them to put a smile on their faces. A single, friendly peck to each of their cheeks is what really solidified their grins and she walked off, happy to have made them smile. When Loba approached them after Gia walked away, Silva was quick to ask the slumping woman what went on behind closed doors.

"I was wrong." she admitted pitifully. "She turned me down too."

"So the competition is back on?" Elliott questioned and all four of them agreed. And thus their antics continued: Elliott flirted, Silva showed off, Bloodhound gifted things, and Loba seduced. None of it worked in the slightest. But Gia would laugh it off and let her touches linger just that fraction of a second longer that made them all question their sanity. If they were teamed up with her, they'd give her the items she requested. If she was hungry, they got her food. If she was feeling unwell, they took care of her until she was better.

"Like lost puppies." Anita commented to the four of them as she watched them all practically drool at the sight of Gia on the complete opposite end of the room. She seemed unaware of their presence but they knew she knew they were there. She sat with Makoa and Pathfinder, all three of them happily chatting with each other without a care in the world. Makoa's big belly laughs rang in everyone's ears.

"She's totally into me, I can tell." Elliott stated matter-of-factly.

"As if." Loba retorted.

"Did'cha ever think that maybe she got someone already?" Che asked with a smirk. "Some of us got loved ones back home."

"I doubt it, amiga. She would've told us if she did." said Silva.

"Maybe she didn't want to tell you. Seems like she doesn't tell anyone anything about herself. For all you know, she could have a husband, or wife, and several kids back on her home planet." Anita commented. The latter part of her sentence fell on deaf ears as the four love-sick Legends stared in Gia's direction when she laughed at something either Pathfinder or Makoa said. Her laugh was like music to their ears. Anita rolled her eyes towards Che and the other simply shook her head.

"Look at her! She's absolutely gor-gor-gorg... pretty! We're totally comp-compat... made for each other!"

"If we're going off looks alone, surely there are better suitors than you." Loba told Elliott with a smirk.

"Hey now, that's quite rude!"

"Gia is a strong fighter. Our skills are equally matched. Perhaps she's not looking for a superficial partner at all."

"All of you are a hack." Crypto's voice surprised everyone. He stood just off to the side, watching them with a bored expression on his face. Hands in his pockets, as is his usual stance, he eyed all four of them down.

"Come on! Don't try and tell us you don't think she's muy caliente."

"She is very beautiful," Crypto agreed. "and you are very desperate."

"So you are not in any way attracted to her." Loba stated rather than asked. She leaned forward, chin on her knuckles, and pressed him.

"I never said that."

"So you think about her."

"I never said that either."

"Say what you want, but until she tells me to back off I'm not going anywhere."

"And neither am I!" Elliott responded rather quickly -and defensively.

"That makes three of us." said Silva.

"Four."

"Fine. Make it five."

"I can't believe this." Che grumbled.

Gia found Crypto unexpectedly by her side more and more. He was rather reserved and his attempts at flirting were down right embarrassing. She tried not to show pity for him. The poor guy probably hadn't ever touched a boob before. She assumed him like Elliot, Silva, Bloodhound, and Loba and went along with whatever he said. She never asked much from Crypto and he was thankful for that. He had no idea how to woo her. He knew absolutely nothing about her, but who was he to ask her about her past if he wasn't willing to exchange an equal value? She was pretty and she was talented, so he tried to play to those strengths. He complimented her when she dolled up and he praised her when her team won Champion. Very rarely was he ever paired up with her so he often admired her through his scopes. He assumed to himself that he could impress her if he won Champion, so he tried his best to wipe the floor with any enemy teams he came across. More often than not, her team would demolish his so he would side step her if he spotted her. However, whenever Caustic or Revenant were on his team, there was no room for niceties and they went in with guns blazing whether he liked it or not. Caustic would throw his gas traps at them, or Revenant would silence them, and then suddenly both teams were at war with each other.

Just last week, Revenant went charging in at Gia, Bloodhound, and Wattson. He silenced their abilities, giving Revenant an easy target on the blonde girl before she could even defend their position with her electric fences. Wattson went down like a sack of bricks. And then Wraith went charging in on Bloodhound. She managed to break the hunter's shields before Gia came to her teammate's rescue and knocked the voidwalker to the ground with a few well-placed 301 shots. Crypto attempted to help his team by going in with his drone and EMP-ing the two enemies still standing. With their abilities still silenced, Gia was unable to fight back at the same caliber and Revenant took his EVA and pulled the trigger three times in Gia's chest. She collapsed to the ground with her knockdown shield aimed directly at the robot.

"Nothing personal, girlie." he chuckled as he tried to show off and finish her. He got interrupted when Bloodhound came around the corner and shot his hopped-up Wingman into the simulacrum's skull. Revenant went down as well. That left Crypto versus Bloodhound. Crypto was still fully shielded as opposed to Bloodhound. However, Crypto was armed with a 45 while his opponent had a Wingman with a skull-piercer on it. Even if Crypto landed all of his shots, it would only take three from the hunter to fully knock him. And he did indeed get knocked. His gold knockdown shield was the only thing that kept his team from being spawned out of the arena and back onto the dropship. Bloodhound knows Crypto's entire team was down so he was not at all worried about being shot in the back as he picked up both Gia and Wattson. Gia didn't waste any time healing and instead finished off Revenant with a big fucking smile on her beautiful lips.

"It's not personal, Rev." she echoed back at him and followed it up with a knee thrusted into the simulacrum's throat and then a low roundhouse kick to the side of his skull. Revenant disappeared, his banner taking his place. Meanwhile, Bloodhound turned to Crypto and attempted to finish him off as well. The last thing Crypto saw was the hunter's battle axe being thrown at his head. And then he and Wraith were standing next to Revenant on the dropship while the on-ship medics came to tend to their wounds. Crypto ignored them, instead turning all of his focus towards the displays following the remaining teams in the arena. One monitor focused on the general rotation of the arena. Another showcased the team that killed his. Crypto's eyes followed Gia's face on the display. She was quick to heal up and then lead her team towards the ring.

The rest of the game was long-lived. Many teams put up a good fight with each other. Ultimately, the best team had to win and that team was of Lifeline, Octane, and Gibralter. Gia's team came second. As skilled as she was, going against Lifeline was a difficult feat. Especially when Gibralter's shield dome gave the team ample cover for a quick pick-up. Not to mention the fact that Silva was nearly resistant to pain and was able to recover without the use of meds once he was picked up. A good heal will almost always out fight heavy damage. Once all the teams made it back onto the ship, Crypto approached Gia. "Good fight." he simply said. She smiled at him and returned the sentiment with a peck to his cheek. Crypto felt his face grow hot and he heard a snicker beside him. He found Loba, Bloodhound, Silva, and Elliott watching him with dopey smiles. Loba crossed her arms and eyed him in a way that meant she told him so. He ignored them in favor of getting patched up the rest of the way by the ship medics.

"You may have won this time, little girl, but I'd watch my back if I were you." Revenant threatened Gia at the other end of the ship. He bent down to her level and stared right into her eyes. But she didn't shy away from the simulacrum's threatening advances.

"The only thing I'll be watching is a replay of me finishing you." she shot at him. He simply returned her remark with a deep, throaty sound and then he stalked off.

That night, Elliott threw a small after-party at his place. There were drinks aplenty, more food to go around than anyone could think of, and of course the Champion squad. All complete with Silva begging to do some party tricks and doing them anyway regardless of how Elliott responded. Not as if Elliott would say no to his friend anyway. Everyone came out to the party. Even Dr. Nox and Revenant who hardly ever show their faces when not in the arena. Still, they kept to themselves and only participated when coaxed. Well, at least Dr. Nox did. Revenant just stalked everyone as per usual.

Gia tried to make rounds with everyone but it was becoming difficult with five of the Legends begging for her attention. Silva wanted her to watch him light himself on fire. Which he did and she watched on like she promised. "One of these days you're gonna get yourself killed, love." she said to him as she patted down the last of the flames burning away at his shorts.

"As if Death could catch me, chica bonita."

"Promise me you'll live to see tomorrow so we can get lunch."

"Absolutamente!" he grinned from ear to ear and then she walked off to sit and talk with Anita and Che. "She wants me." he said to Elliot. The latter simply rolled his eyes.

"She only said that because she doesn't want to watch you kill yourself tonight."

"She so wants me."

Gia chatted with the two women. Gia congratulated Che on her win today and the medic praised her back with a statement of her skill. "A couple close calls." the woman had said and Gia nodded in agreement.

"A toast to our Champion!" Anita held her glass in the air and the other two women clinked theirs together and took a large gulp of their drinks.

"Let's hang out this week. Go do something fun. My treat, of course as a present for our lovely Champion here." Gia offered the two women.

"I'm in the mood for a nice massage!" chirped said Champion. "It hurts having to carry 'round these children all the time." This made the other two laugh heartedly.

"I swear, some of these kids want to get hurt." commented Anita.

"Sounds an awful lot like those five over there." Gia pointed to the group huddled together and watching her.

"They just tryna impress ya. Problem is they don't know when to quit it."

"I think it's cute."

"Do ya like any of them?" Che asked and Gia sat back and thought about it for a second.

"They're certainly cute. And it's funny watching them flirt. But it's all just fun and games."

"You seeing anybody? They won't stop unless you tell them you're taken." said Anita matter-of-factly. She took another gulp of her drink.

"They don't need to stop. It's nothing serious. No one's getting hurt and I've already told them no so it's not like I'm leading them on. Let them dream a little."

"As long as ya okay with it."

"I am." she responded. "I'm also hungry. Be right back." she told the women and got up to grab some food that was piled up on a table. There was so much food here but she wouldn't be surprised if it all got eaten anyway. There were some hungry Legends here and -she's not going to name names- some of them can absolutely pack it away. Silva didn't count, however, because his metabolism was way faster than normal so it's never a surprise to see the green-haired junkie go up for fourths or even fifths. Gia grabbed a plate and filled it with foods that appealed to her. Nothing fancy but just interesting enough to get doubles of. As she was making her way back to Che and Anita, she spotted Wraith sitting alone and moping. Gia detoured over there and took a seat opposite of the woman.

"You doing okay?" she asked, making Wraith look up at her and force a smile.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure? I didn't hit you too hard out there today, did I?" Gia attempted to lighten to mood. It worked to a degree; Wraith cracked a more genuine smile and gave a short chuckle.

"You got some good shots on me but that was pure luck." she said. "Good game today, by the way."

"You too. Do you wanna talk about what's bothering you? I'm all ears."

"Thanks but I'll be fine. It's nothing serious."

"Come find me if you ever need a shoulder." Gia offered the woman and was gifted a nod with a bigger smile in response. Gia placed a gentle hand against Wraith's cheek. "Smile for me some more. You've got a beautiful smile." she said and then got up and walked away.

"You don't think Wraith's into Gia too, do you?" Elliott asked the group as they all watched the exchange happen between said women. His eyes followed Gia for a moment as she walked away and then focused on the other. Even though Wraith looked away from the room, he could see her blushing furiously. And she tentatively placed a hand against the same cheek Gia did. Oh, she definitely had it bad for her.

"I wouldn't be surprised. I've caught her staring at my ass on more than one occasion." Loba snorted.

"Gia and Wraith aren't seeing each other already, are they?" Crypto asked everyone as if they had any more answers on her love life than he did. As predicted, everyone else shrugged or didn't answer at all. Elliott went back to watching Wraith's behavior. Everything that just happened in the last 10 seconds told him that Wraith hadn't expected Gia to show her that type of affection. If she's blushing that bad from a single touch, then that means Wraith is crushing real hard. She didn't act like that was a normal occurrence between the two of them. As if she could read Elliot's mind, Wraith turned her attention to the group of five that had been watching her. Elliott waved his hand over to her, silently telling her to join them. Wraith did a double take, making sure he was in fact motioning to her and when she realized he was, she made her way over to them.

"Aye, you into Gia?" Silva got right to the point and put Wraith on the spot. She sputtered.

"What? No. What makes you think that?"

"You do not have to lie." Bloodhound calmed her. "She is the reason we're all here." he motioned to the group.

"She's just a friend!" Wraith was quick to defend. "I mean she's pretty and all but nothing would ever be between us."

"So you admit you're into her." Loba accused and Wraith went silent. She blushed again.

"I mean, she's nice. And pretty. And she smells good. But so what."

"Listen, no one's poking fun at you. We all like her." Elliott came to her rescue.

"Yeah and we've got a competition going to see who she likes more!" said Silva.

"Why?"

"Because it's fun! And because we can hit on her without pressuring her to return the favor."

"So she knows you've all placed bets on her?" Wraith assumed questionably making the others stiffen and look to each other.

"Well." Crypto started. "She doesn't know about the competition but she knows we all are attracted to her."

"Isn't that kind of, I don't know, scummy?"

"We're not placing actual bets on her." Loba defended.

"Yeah it's just all bragging rights at the end of the day if one of us wins her over." said Elliott casually.

"Aye, you can get in on this if you want, chica, but we're all just having fun."

Wraith hesitated for a moment to think it over. This was scummy, right? Holding Gia as a prize? Surely she wouldn't appreciate it. But then Wraith looked over to Gia sitting with Che and Anita and noticed how beautiful she looked when she had her hair down. Wraith quickly touched her cheek again.

"What are the rules to this... competition?"

"None really. Try to woo her and, if you do, congrats. You won." said Elliot.

"So, are you in or are you out?" Crypto questioned.

"I'm in."

To say Gia was leading the pack was a bit of an understatement. Everywhere she went, her little lovesick posse was not too far behind. And it seemed to be growing by the day. Given that there were now six of them, it was more likely she was paired up with at least one of them during the Games. And when they were paired up together, it was very obvious they were trying to impress her. If she was ever downed, Wraith would stop whatever she's doing to portal her to safety even if she herself wasn't in a safe position. If she was out of ammo, Elliott dropped several stacks of whatever she needed even if he needed it himself. If she gave an order, Silva would absolutely follow it even if he had already jump padded a mile away. If she wanted the Peacekeeper, Loba would steal it for her. If Crypto found a high-level shield, he'd let her have it. If the team got split, Bloodhound would always follow her in case she ran into another team. And if their third got pinned, well Bloodhound wasn't leaving Gia's side.

Everyone else was starting to notice it more and more and they'd approach her about it. "It doesn't bother me." she'd say. And maybe it truly doesn't. Maybe she likes the constant attention she gets from the lovesick six. It certainly didn't hinder her performance in the arena. However it was becoming a bit annoying not being able to spend much time with anyone else without the group being a hare's breath away. But still she played along, laughed at their jokes, swooned over their flirtatious remarks, cheered them on as they showed off.

The Games continued nonetheless and even more Legends showed up; first there was weapons-expert Ramya Parekh, and then there was scientist Mary Somers, and with Dr. Somers came a new arena. Both of whom were very quick to pick up on the weird dynamic between Gia and six of the other Legends. "They're quite infatuated with you, darling." Dr. Somers had commented on day one of her being there. "Eh, they're all a bit weird." Ramya said nonchalantly.

Also Revenant and Elliott got to take over the games for awhile -again. Everyone hated when Revenant got control of the Games and this time around he's decided to switch it up a little bit. Elliott, on the other hand, took the opportunity to impress Gia. "Look at me! I'm so good they wanted to bring me back! The fans love me!" he said. His pride was short lived because the Apex hosts gave the fans quite the show when new events dropped and Elliott, Silva, Wraith, Bloodhound, and Loba all got makeovers -among other Legends, Gia included. All of them took their new looks on stage in an attempt to make Gia swoon. And as good as they all looked, Gia barely had the time of day to compliment them because Apex was whisking her away left and right to show off her new look. The fans loved her and demanded her attention. There was even a huge party for all of the Legends and multiple press corporations to advertise the new events. It was all just so overwhelming. Gia hated being center stage and the constant swarms of people drained her energy rather quickly. Her only reprieve was when one of her six admirers took all of the attention away from her as they did some sort of stunt to make her smile. It was mostly Silva donning his Octane ego that got the press's attention because who doesn't love to watch a daredevil jump out of the window? Nevertheless, she appreciated the breath of fresh air when the cameras weren't on her. She took the opportunity to hide away near the buffet table.

"Ya doing alright?" Che had asked from beside her, grabbing food for herself.

"I'm fine. Just need a break from all of this."

"Still not used to being a fan favorite, are ya?"

"I'm surprised I'm a favorite at all, to be honest. I know a lot of people like to go for the shiny, new toy but I'm no longer shiny or new. Ramya and Dr. Somers should be getting all of the attention."

"Are ya kidding me? Ya one of the best there is! Ya win more games than ya lose. Of course ya a favorite!" Che attempted to cheer her up.

"You win a lot of games too, but it seems like everyone wants to surround me."

"Well, I have been here longer than ya have. Give it time and they'll move on. They like ya because ya don't tell them anything. It keeps them interested."

"I'm sure you're right. But for now I just need a breather. I'll catch you later, Che." Gia bid farewell and walked off into the shadows, away from prying eyes and camera flashes. The combat medic made her way back to the center of the press where Elliott and Silva were waiting to talk to her with concerned looks in their eyes.

"Is Gia alright?" Elliott questioned her, making a move to go follow the object of his desires. Che put a hand against his chest to stop him.

"She don't wanna be bothered right now. She wants to be alone. So leave her alone."

"Is she hurt or something?" Silva asked worriedly.

"Nah, she just needs some fresh air. But she made it very clear she didn't want anyone to accompany her. So make sure ya tell the others to leave her be tonight."

"Can you at least tell us where's she's going in case she need someone."

"If she wants ya, she'll let ya know." was Che's response and then she walked away, hoping those idiots wouldn't bother Gia. She had to give the dopey idiots some credit though because all six of them never left the party. Despite their infatuation with the white-eyed Legend, they respected her privacy and gave her space when she asked for it. The press took notice of Gia's absence and tried to dig into everyone else for her whereabouts but no one relented and the press was forced to focus on the remaining Legends at the party.

Once the whole shebang was over and the press had made their leave, the six were becoming slightly worried at Gia's continued AWOL. She hadn't talked to anyone since she told Che she was leaving. No messages or calls. Nothing. Surely she was fine, though. Gia could absolutely hold her own if god forbid something were to happen, so the Legends weren't worried about finding her all beaten up on the Docks. But they were worried that something was still wrong and didn't feel comfortable letting her be alone for this long. It's been hours since anyone has seen her.

"I'm gonna go look for her." Elliott finally said. He was obviously agitated in his boots. The others weren't looking so hot either and they all agreed to split up and look for her. Problem was, there were far too many places she could possibly be and she hadn't answered anyone's messages so there wasn't even a general location they could pinpoint her at. They all checked her place in the compound housing the Legends, they checked all over Olympus, they checked Malta. They checked everywhere they could think of, but there was no sign of her and now they were well into the wee hours of the morning. Everyone was seriously starting to worry.

There was one final place Elliott could think of where she might possibly be, so he ran there as fast as he could to check. If she wasn't there, then he was starting to think he'd need to put a missing person's report on her. Surely Apex would find her quickly; they can't let one of their best fighters disappear. Especially not after a night of reporters fawning over her. Elliott charged towards the dropship housed at the very edge of Olympus. Getting through the security was rather easy, simply because the security had been disabled which was a relatively good sign in Elliott's eyes. She had to be here. None of the Apex crew were working at this time, as far as he was concerned. He let himself aboard the aircraft and he nearly collapsed onto the floor when he did.

Holy fucking shit, Gia was here. And she was with Revenant. And she was very clearly naked! Both of them were asleep -or, well, she was asleep and he was shut down, Elliott guessed. Did the robot sleep at all? They were laying all cuddled up to each other on one of the many plush seating areas with a blanket wrapped loosely around them. Gia's entire upper half was exposed to the warm air of the ship, but her dignity was covered just enough by the fact that she had her chest pressed up against Revenant's. The simulacrum kept a metal arm laying over her as they both slept, almost as if he was protecting her. She stirred lightly in her sleep and he responded by pulling her closer. Yet neither one of them woke up.

Elliott wasn't sure if he could scream, cry, runaway, or do all three. He wasn't gonna lie, his heart broke knowing that she would choose a robot over him. Even if his flirts were nothing more than a game, the fact that he was beat by a fucking robot of all things stung. Why didn't she say anything? Probably because no one would have believed her. I mean, Revenant of all people? That thing hated everyone and everything. And he's been known to threaten her on occasion. Was it all part of a rouse to keep people from guessing? Did the simulacrum have some sort of reputation to uphold? Or was this some sort of spontaneous thing? Either way, Elliott had a hard time picking his jaw up off the floor.

He managed to sneak out of the ship without waking either one of them and he exited the hangar. What was he supposed to tell the others? He didn't even know how to comprehend it himself! But he had to say something. Everyone else was still out looking for her. He managed to message everyone else but his words were short. "I found her. She's alright. Everyone stop worrying." he told them. Any responses he got back from them were ignored as he tried to calm his racing mind while he made his way back to his place.

This has been one hell of a night.

Elliott called an emergency meeting with the others the next afternoon once everyone was able to catch some well-needed sleep. Both Gia and Revenant had reappeared some time in the early morning, though no one was able to catch them together. Her usual chipper mood didn't do anything to quell Elliot's confused thoughts and he had half a mind to just probe her for answers to the questions he wasn't sure he wanted to even ask. What was he supposed to ask her? "How long have you been fucking Revenant? Were you ever gonna tell us or were you trying to toy with us? Does he even have a dick?" He wasn't hurt by the fact that she was seeing someone. Elliott knew she wasn't interested in any of the six of them. She made it very clear her no actually meant no. But Revenant?!

"What's so important you needed to gather all of us?" Crypto had asked. Elliott was tongue-tied. He just had to rip it off like a band-aid, right? That's what they all say, right?

"We need to call the competition off. Leave Gia alone." he managed to say.

"What? Why?" Wraith questioned with genuine confusion.

"She's seeing someone."

"How do you know?" Silva asked.

"I found them together last night."

"Are you sure?" Bloodhound asked and Elliott nodded.

"Very sure."

"Who is it? Another Legend?" Loba wondered. All eyes were on Elliott, waiting for him to spill the beans. Who could've possibly stolen Gia's heart? No one ever saw anyone else fawning over her and no one ever saw her eyes lingering for too long on a certain someone. She treated everyone the same. Perhaps it wasn't another Legend. Did she have a lover that came to surprise her at the party? Did a husband or wife come to cheer her on in the new events?

"It's... It's Revenant, okay!" he spat out and quite literally everyone else had gasped in surprise.

"Are you trying to make some sort of sick joke? Because if you are, I will throttle you!" Loba threatened.

"I'm serious! I found them together last night and she was very clearly naked in his arms."

"I don't believe it!" cried Wraith. There is no way someone as sweet as Gia would ever find companionship in someone like Revenant. It just couldn't be possible.

"Believe what you want but I'm backing out of this dumb competition! I don't want Revenant to snap my neck!" shouted Elliott and he threw his hands up in defeat. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his head to the table in a loud thump. A look of understanding passed from Legend to Legend. Everyone knew Revenant's behavior. He was cold and he was unforgiving. If what Elliott claimed was true, then there's no telling what the simulacrum would do to them if he found out they were all trying to get into her pants.

"What do we say to Gia? She'll know something's up." Silva asked aloud to the group.

"You don't have to say anything." that god damn voice said, making everyone jump in their seat and whip their heads around to peer at Gia timidly idling in the doorway. Her white eyes were glossed over in pity, and that hurt all the more.

"Were you standing there the whole time?" Elliott asked her.

"I heard shouting. I came at the part where you said you found us together last night."

"Oh." was all he said back.

"Listen, guys," she started, moving into the room and closer to them. "I know how much fun you guys were having with this competition thing going on between all of you. And I'm sorry this was how you found out about me and Revenant."

"Have you been seeing him this whole time?" Loba almost seethed.

"Yes." she flat out said. No beating around the bush. "I promise I'm not dating him to spite you, Loba. I started dating him long before I even knew of your history with him. I didn't do this to hurt you. And I'm sorry if it does hurt you." she apologized.

"No one's hurt that you're seeing him." claimed Silva.

"Speak for yourself!" Loba interrupted.

"We're just confused is all, chica."

"Loba, truly I'm very sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry to all of you. I'm sorry if I ever lead any of you on, but I honestly thought I had made it very clear that this was just a game."

"You did. We heard you loud and clear, hermosa. We were just trying to have a little fun with you."

"I know. And I'm sorry if this put a stop to your competition. Believe me when I say I enjoyed the attention. I truly did not intend for any of you to get hurt or upset. If it's Revenant you're hesitant of, I can give you my absolute word he will not harm any of you."

"I guess I just want to know how it happened." said Wraith. Gia attempted a jovial smile in her direction.

"There's so much to me you guys don't even know. So much that even Revenant doesn't know. I know it may seem strange but I promise you that he and I are not very different."

"Does he even.... um.. have a... you know?" Elliott then hesitantly questioned much to everyone else's embarrassment. They all shouted at him in distaste. "Oh come on! I know I'm not the only one who's curious!" he defended himself. Gia took in a deep, shuttering breath.

"Well... um... yes, he does."

"That's just weird. That is so weird." shuttered Silva. "Dios mío, eso es asqueroso. Can we please talk about something else?" he mumbled into his palms.

"Look, to make a long story short, all I can say is I'm sorry. From the absolute bottom of my heart, I am sorry. Regardless of where we all go from here, I just want you to know that you've all made me feel pretty, you've made me feel important, and you've made me feel loved. And I can't ever thank you enough for that. I just hope you all understand that I truly do love you too. Even if it's not the same way that you love me. I truly do love you."

"As long as you're happy." Crypto replied to her. As sad as he was to say it, he meant it for her.

"I am. I really am."

"I guess that's the end of that. It's been a good game, guys." Elliott directed towards the other five. "We're just not what you're looking for, I guess."

"But you're what someone is looking for." she consoled. "Elliot, you are the most handsome man I have ever met in my entire life." Gia confessed to him. To solidify her statement, she pressed a warm kiss to his cheek. Then she turned to the green-haired man beside him. "Silva, my life would be so incredibly boring without you in it." and she pressed a kiss to his cheek as well. "Loba, next time you see me in the arena, I want you to just step on me with those boots." she giggled and kissed her cheek as well. Despite Loba's best efforts, she cracked a real smile. "Bloodhound, you're an incredibly skilled hunter and I wish I could match up to you." Gia tentatively lifted her hands towards his face, waiting to see if he'd stop her from removing his face mask. He didn't. So she lifted the material from his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well before putting it back in place. "Crypto, don't ever let anyone underestimate you." a kiss to his cheek. "And of course, Wraith. I meant what I said before; you have a beautiful smile. Show it off some more." a kiss to her cheek. "I love you guys. And I hope you don't think any less of me."

"Of course not." said Bloodhound which made Gia's heart flutter with glee. She bid a final farewell to all of them before making her departure, still unsure if they have forgiven her for her secrets. The room fell quiet for several moments as they all processed what just happened. In the blink of an eye, everything just crumbled. No one was angry. They all still loved Gia. But now things were a little different. The competition was officially off the table now and the six Legends were unsure of where to go from here.

"She totally loves me more." Silva cracked the silence.

"Are you kidding? She kissed me first!"

"She kissed me longer." claimed Bloodhound. And then a full blown argument started between all of them over who Gia had more affection for.

Everything sort of calmed down after Gia had finally come clean. The six Legends that had been following her for months had backed off and everyone took notice of it. Che asked Gia what had happened between all of them and Gia had confessed that she had been seeing someone behind everyone's back. Though she didn't name names. Che wanted details of course but didn't press when Gia refused to give them. Even Pathfinder could sense that there was some tension in the room but, bless his heart, he had no idea how to make everyone feel better. He tried though. "Everything will be okay, friend." he told her and then gave her one of his famous high fives.

It's not like Gia didn't try to mend things with them. She still tried to talk to them but conversations became awkward because no one knew what to say anymore. All the flirting stopped and everyone was too scared to sit too close to her in fear of Revenant's wrath. But she did try. It's just that her efforts went nowhere.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Gia and Revenant were seen together out in public for the very first time. They officially outed themselves as a couple. Everyone was just minding their own business when Gia had appeared, dragging Revenant behind her with her hand interlaced in his. She pulled him into everyone's view and everyone turned to stare at them with wide eyes. She paid them no mind, but Revenant glared at anyone he connected eyes with. She pulled him down to sit with her and he did without complaint. She cuddled into his side and he tossed an arm across her shoulders, allowing her to get as close as possible. Everyone was watching, but it was Elliott, Silva, Loba, Crypto, Bloodhound, and Wraith that seemed to be the most in shock. What had finally changed her mind about keeping their relationship quiet, they didn't know. Everyone was just as confused as they were and those who were aware of the six's admiration for Gia all turned towards them in either pity or curiosity. Yet no one said a word. It felt like all eyes were burning into them. But thank god they all turned away at some point.

Gia proceeded to show Revenant something on her device and they both watched intently. He even scooted her into his lap so he could place his chin on her shoulder and watch. His arms wrapped around her midsection protectively and she cracked a smile. She looked so tiny in his lap.

"I can't watch this." Loba said and stormed off. She still hadn't come to terms with the fact that the woman she desired was in love with the demon she wanted to murder.

"Does anyone else feel nauseous or is it just me?" Wraith asked, turning away from the loving couple.

"No, I feel it too." Elliott confessed.

"Aye."

"It may hurt now, but she is a grown woman who has made her decision and we must respect that. We'll get over it eventually." Bloodhound told the group.

"Just because we respect it doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt, compadre." retorted Silva.

"You think they'll stay together?" Crypto then asked and everyone looked back to Gia still cuddled in Revenant's metallic lap. Elliott watched carefully as every twitch of Revenant's fingers only seemed to hold her closer to his chest. His touched appeared to be gentle and Gia had made herself comfortable in his embrace. She smiled at her device and carefully ran her fingertips along the build of his arms. He must've made some sort of noise because she nudged her cheek against his metal face plating. When he turned to look at her, she looked back and pressed her forehead to his. They both closed their eyes and Elliott assumed that was their version of a kiss considering he didn't have any lips -or even a moveable jaw for that matter. And Elliott could tell that she was genuinely happy.

"Yeah. I think so."

#apex legends #revenant #mirage #elliot witt #octane #octavio silva #bloodhound #loba andrade #crypto #tae joon park #wraith #renee blasey #original female character #fanfiction #imagine

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eryiss · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two - The Handyman

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. This is the second chapter, and from now on it’ll be updated weekly. Hope you enjoy it.

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Two – The Handyman

"Fucks sake. Fucking bitch."

"That's not the way to talk to a lady, Laxus. Damn."

"I ain't talkin' to a lady, I'm talking to this piece of shit."

With an angered huff, Laxus slammed down the screwdriver and allowed it to clatter against the small tray of tools. On the table was the industrial toaster that Laxus had been attempting to fix for the better half of the morning, with an only slightly warm piece of bread resting pitifully on the wire rack, practically mocking Laxus with its lack of any toast-like qualities. It was the sixth time that year that the machine had decided to work, and Laxus had grown to have a vendetta against the fucking thing.

But he wasn't going to let it win. He had singlehandedly fixed practically every electric device in Fairy Tail since becoming the handyman, and he would be damned if the fucking toaster was his downfall. He'd conquered faulty boilers, crappy wiring and, on one condition, a disgusting issue with sewage backup over the past year alone. A toaster was nothing.

"Just make your grandad buy a new one," Cana laughed as she walked further into the hotel's breakroom. "It's like twenty years old, probably only makes the bread darker because of an oil leak."

"I ain't getting it replaced," Laxus snapped, glaring at the open circuitry of the machine with probably too much hatred for what the situation deserved. "If it gets it replaced, then the fucking things knows that it's won."

"It's a toaster dude," Cana deadpanned.

"Don't give a shit," Laxus groaned, leaning back in the chair so the forelegs left the floor, resting his arms behind his head. "You meant to be working today?"

"Yeah. Apparently there's some big group coming for lunch and they need extra wait staff, so Gramps called me. And I'm working the bar later," Cana shrugged, taking out a chair and straddling it; because of course she did. "You?"

"Room seven had a flickering light, needed fixing," Laxus sighed. "Thought I might as well work on this thing while I'm here."

The blonde looked around the small room, eyes flittering towards the clock and sighing. He'd been drinking the night before and had it not been for his grandfather's seven AM phone call worrying about the supposed 'lawsuit waiting to happen' he would probably only just be getting out of bed after nursing a light hangover. He'd been able to wrangle a free breakfast from Mirajane, at least, but he would trade that in for his covers at that moment. At least when he was planning to feel sorry for himself about his hangover, he had something to do. Now he just had a day of nothing.

His work was fine, but inconsistent. He did any repairs that was needed at his grandfather's hotel, be that plumbing, electric work, or just helping out when it was understaffed. But Makarov kept a tight ship, and had good relationships with his staff so absences only happened when needed. So, Laxus was often left with little to do.

It was a nice problem to have, but Laxus didn't intend to be impartial.

This was the issue in living in a small town for all of your life, being forced to either thrive there or break free from it. He liked Magnolia, the area was beautiful and his childhood there had been good, but he was limited by living there. A degree in electrical engineering wasn't worth much when the only relevant job available was at a mechanics shop where he'd once bashed in the teeth of the owner's son. The miserable old bastard should have forgiven him by now; it'd been six years.

Which was why he was grateful for his grandfather giving him the job. He got to put his degree to use, even if on crappy toasters, and made a living. But it was a boring existence, and the reason why Laxus found himself on job searchers websites at least twice a week.

"You gonna eat that?" Cana asked, going towards the warmed but not toasted bread.

"No," Laxus furrowed his brows. "Are you?"

"I'm poor, man," Cana laughed, picking up the bread and eating it.

"I've seen the cupboard where you keep your booze, you ain't 'stealing warm. crappy bread poor' yet," Laxus deadpanned, and Cana laughed as she ate her bread; she didn't even put fucking butter on it. "And you get twice the number of tips than me when we work the bar together. Where's it going?"

"Booze cupboard," Cana grinned.

"You'll fuck up your kidneys, you know."

"I'll get an operation and replace 'em," Cana laughed, swallowing a bite of bread. "Speaking of being split open and things going inside, you fucked anyone lately?"

"Fuckin hell!" Laxus exclaimed, wide eyes darting towards the woman who was now openly laughing.

This was something that his friend brought up often, and as such she had lost all tact about it. The two of them were some of the only openly gay people in Magnolia – at least to their knowledge – and therefore had some annoying kinship when it came to their relationships. It had started as them both feeling sorry for themselves, as they had nobody to date. Somehow, it had devolved into a friendship where Cana felt perfectly comfortable talking about what Laxus was planning on doing, or had done, in his bed.

Worse still, Laxus didn't have the same opportunity to make fun of her. Cana was openly besotted with Mirajane, and had long since lost any shame about it. Cana could joke about Laxus falling in love with any man he saw, but Laxus couldn't do the same because they both knew Mirajane was the only woman for her.

Selfish asshole.

"You're gonna fuck all of hell? You must have more time on your hands," Cana laughed, and Laxus stood up with a groan. "Aw, come on man, don't leave."

"I'm gonna go see if one of the toilets needs to be unblocked," Laxus grunted, walking towards the door of the breakroom. "Seems more pleasant than talking t' you."

"Oh how you wound me, I think I might cry," Cana spoke in possibly the most sarcastic voice possible.

"Go suck on yer crushes clit," Laxus muttered.

"Had a good few dreams about that, my man," Cana grinned, before adding in a less teasing tone. "And Lisanna said she wants to talk to you later, so find her once you're done scrubbing the shitter," A smirk formed on her features again. "Maybe she wants to set you up with her brother. You'd be a hot ass couple."

"Fuck yourself."

"Imagine the carnage though. The two of ya could break beds faster than an over eager lumberjack."

Laxus didn't respond, and lifted his middle finger to the woman as he left the room.

~~~

There had been no toilets in need of being cleaned, thankfully, but Laxus had been able to keep himself busy for the morning. It had been mainly small and inconsequential jobs, such as removing leaves from the guttering before a build-up formed and checking that supply of complimentary soap wasn't running low, before he ended up back in the break room and working on the toaster.

It wasn't going well, and the patrons would have to deal with the break rooms single slice toaster for at least another day, but at least Cana was working the restaurant for the lunch shift rather than being there to annoy him. He hoped that the table was full of obnoxious people who didn't know what they wanted and refused to tip.

He gulped down half a can of Red Bull, and groaned as he fought the urge to check toaster prices online.

After cracking his back, he stood up and ran a hand through his hair. He quickly checked himself out in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable before leaving the break room; he may not be part of the service-staff, but he still needed to look good to represent the hotel. Normally he wouldn't have to worry about this – his contact with guests was limited – but if he was going to speak to Lisanna, as Cana had claimed he should, then it was almost definite that he'd be in the public eye for a few minutes at least. He didn't look too bad for someone who'd nearly vomited over a plate of cheese fries the night before.

Lisanna was working at the office attached to the front desk, doing some kind of admin that Laxus didn't care enough about to understand. He walked in and, once she looked up from the monitor, she grinned at him. Laxus didn't frown, but the urge was there. The two of them weren't particularly close.

"Hi," She greeted, annoyingly cheerfully. "I didn't know if Cana had passed on the message."

"Well, here I am," Laxus shrugged.

"There you are," She said with a smile, then waved towards one of the other desk chairs populating the cramped room. Laxus took a seat. "So, I've got something I thought you could help with. A proposition I guess."

Laxus paused for a moment. She wasn't actually going to try and set him up with Elfman, was she? That would be weird, Elfman wasn't Laxus' type.

"There's this guest, you see, who checked in yesterday," She began, before stopping herself. "No, that's not important. Well it is, but not right now," Laxus stayed quiet. Lisanna was a talkative person, and could probably have an entire conversation with herself. "You know Albion house, the old cottage on the outskirts of town that's' all run down."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, confused. "Think I made up some crap about it being haunted when I was a kid."

"That's the place- that was you! Mirajane told me when I was eight and I had nightmare for weeks, you asshole," Lisanna chastised, and Laxus didn't hide the smirk at the admission. "Whatever, we can talk about that later. Anyway, it recently got a new owner, you see. And I was talking to him last night and a bit during breakfast. So he doesn't know what to do because he can't knock it down and sell the land, and the house is kind of crappy so nobody's actually gonna wanna pay any real money for it, right. So he's kinda stuck; I think he needs the money for something, I didn't wanna ask."

Did she talk to the guests this much?

This was why Laxus always booked into big corporate hotels whenever he stayed away.

"Getting off topic, sorry," She shook her head. "So, I was talking to the new owner, and he thought maybe he could get it sold for more money if it was more functional. Not a total refurbishment or anything, just making sure the lights work and the floorboards won't crumble underfoot. And he's not from the area, so he doesn't know any builders or plumbers or anyone he'll need."

She then stopped talking, and began grinning at Laxus expectantly. "And?"

"Really conforming to the stereotype of strong men being dumb," She muttered, and Laxus found himself happy that his ghost story had apparently given her nightmares. "And I said that we've got a kickass handyman working here part time who could probably help you out. I told him about all the stuff you do around here, and he said he'd be interested in meeting with you!"

"You got me a job interview?" Laxus said, taken aback slightly.

"Well, I don't think it's that formal, but kinda," She grinned. "I heard you're looking for a project to work on, and he said he's willing to pay you for your time if you're any good."

Laxus leant back in the chair, closing his eyes slightly. He didn't have a reputation for reacting particularly well to surprises, and this was rather a big one. Because a woman he barely actually knew had done something pretty damn big for him.

Working on property was something Laxus had been curious about, and it had seemed to be plausible for him. It was essentially what he was doing in the hotel, just on a larger scale and possibly with more of a challenge, which Laxus liked the sound of. There had been a few months where he'd watched house renovation shows when he could, to see if he could get a better understanding on how the field worked. He very quickly learned that, to do what he wanted, he needed the money to buy some run down property to renovate. Money which he didn't have, given he was a handyman working part time in a hotel.

So to have an opportunity given to him out of nowhere was a little overwhelming.

Because it could really help him out. He was more than qualified to modernise a house's inner workings, and was willing to put the work in. And if it went well, he would at worst end up with more experience, some extra money and perhaps a good reference he could give to some other housing developers. It could actually be really good.

Of course, that meant Laxus was immediately distrustful of the offer. Because things didn't just happen.

"So this guy is just gonna trust some random stranger?"

"I think he's kind of desperate, really," Lisanna laughed, a pitying expression on her face. "I think he wants to get out of here as quickly as he can, he's a city boy. But that doesn't matter. He seems like a nice man, and it's not like you can't do the work he wants. You might as well talk to him, see if it works out," She shrugged. "He's in the restaurant I think. I said I'd bring him over if you were interested."

"Erm," Laxus mumbled. "Fuck it, why not?"

The majority of the walk towards the restaurant was spent with Laxus trying to rationalise exactly what had just happened. He glanced at his reflection whenever he could, because if this was as much an opportunity as Lisanna seemed to think that it was, Laxus needed to make a good first impression.

When they walked into the restaurant, Lisanna seemed to scan the room before spotting the person she was looking for. She started to walk again and Laxus followed, eyes eventually settling on the man sitting at the window table.

He wasn't what Laxus expected.

Having expected a stuffy old man, in his fifties and balding, Laxus felt wrongfooted. The man was almost certainly a few years younger than Laxus. He had long and green hair, tied high in a ponytail. He was wearing a sharp looking suit that Laxus didn't recognise the brand of. His facial features were sharp and well structured, no doubt the rest of his body just as maintained under his clothing. As Laxus got closer he could smell a mix of some sharp and cool cologne, and the floral scent left by the clothes' steamers put in every room. When he looked up to Laxus he had sharp and inviting blue eyes, and a somewhat enigmatic expression.

Laxus might be inclined to call him a pretty boy, had his expression been a little less intense.

Just his type. Aesthetically, anyway.

"Mr Justine," Lisanna said in greeting. "How'd your lunch?"

"Very pleasant," The man said, glancing for a second to the chicken salad he was eating and then back to Laxus.

"This is the man I told you about, our handyman," Lisanna explained, nudging Laxus. The blonde stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. The man did so, with a firm grasp.

"Laxus," The blonde said. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"You too," The man replied, and Laxus couldn't help but notice how smooth his voice was. But it wasn't the time, so he retracted his hand as the other man spoke. "I'm Freed, as you've perhaps been told. I expect your colleague has explained why I wish to speak with you?"

"The Albion House, right?" Laxus asked. "You got lumbered with the place and need help with the electrics."

"Essentially, yes," Freed nodded. "The only thing that's actually remained intact is the building's structure. The wiring, the plumbing, the heating system, and I'm sure there's a lot more that I'm not aware of that has also been destroyed. I wish to get the building to a point where it's functioning so I can sell it. It doesn't need to be nice to look at, just work. Is that something you think you can do?"

"Well, I'm good with all that shit- stuff," Laxus winced, glancing at the table, and missing the amused expression on Freed's face. "I've done a lot of work here, and in some other houses when they need it. Unless there's some really unusual crap, I should be fine."

"Take a seat, Mr Dreyar."

At the sudden request, Laxus found himself doing what he was told. He sat opposite Freed, and waited a little awkwardly while Freed ordered another tea for himself. He thought about telling him that Lisanna wasn't actually part of the wait-staff, but she smiled and said it'll be right out before retreating to the kitchen. He frowned as she walked away, only to quickly turn back and give him two thumbs up and a large smile. He almost rolled his eyes at the stupid action, but looked back to the man who might soon employ him.

"I think it's best we be honest with one another," Freed continued, and Laxus nodded slightly. "I have no interest nor practical skill when it comes to homeownership and renovations. I can learn, and I'm not an impractical man in general, but a lot of the work will be done by you."

"I can do that," Laxus said with a nod. "How would that work with the, erm… payment, if that ain't too forward?"

"No, that's fair," Freed said, pulling out his phone from his breast pocket. "I haven't had long to look into it, but I plan to pay you by the hour; I don't know how long it will take, so I thought that made more sense than a single payment. I'll clarify how much you get each hour when I find out the average pay a skilled workman gets. Of course we can debate this if you don't think it's fair, but I expect it'll be a good wage"

Laxus probably looked a bit stupid for a moment. He was expecting either a vague answer or a simple 'I'll pay you a grand and expect it to be done by the end of the month.' Not a lot of… legal sounding crap.

"That sounds good," Laxus said after a moment, nodding. "How bad's the house, if y' know? The outside ain't great but I'd like to know what I'm getting into."

"The outside is the best part, I'm afraid," Freed chuckled a little bitterly, and Laxus glanced up at his face again. On his handsome features – and damn, up close they were pretty handsome – there were slight lines of worry beside his eyes. "I didn't take many pictures as I wasn't in the best of moods, but this is fairly reflective of the entire place."

Freed flicked on his phone a few times, and then showed his screen to Laxus. It took a few seconds for Laxus to actually understand what that was, and when he did he let out an almost impressed sigh and leant back in his chair.

"That's the circuit box?" He laughed, and Freed nodded. "It looks like…"

"It had a violent orgy with a jackhammer, baseball bat and a box of explosives?" Freed completed, and Laxus let out a short bark of laughter, shocking himself.

"Fuck, sorry. I shouldn't laugh," Laxus winced, though he was grinning. When he glanced towards Freed again, he openly saw him smirking at him. If nothing else, at least this proved his boss had a sense of humour. "I didn't expect it, sorry. It does look pretty bad though, if the rest of the house is like that then it's probably gonna take a while to get the place in a liveable state."

"I assumed as much," Freed said with a sigh. "I only intend to stay here for a week, I should clarify. My office may allow me to extend that for another week. I'm hoping that, by then, you'll have begun work and can do so without me. I'll keep in regular contact of course, but I won't be here in person often."

"That's okay. I can deal with that," Laxus nodded as he spoke. He liked working alone. "What do you do, if you don't mind me askin'?"

"I'm a lawyer," Freed waved his hand as he returned his phone to his jacket pocket.

"Fuck. That's pretty-" Hot. "Impressive."

"Thank you," Freed nodded a little. "I don't mean to be abrupt, but I've got to clear some details up with my office, so I'll have to leave you," He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Here's my card, call me in the evening. We'll discuss things further then. Good day, Laxus."

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "Speak later."

Freed nodded, and left the restaurant. Laxus allowed his eyes to trail over his retreating figure, roaming over his broad shoulders to his taut waist, then, for a split-second, to his ass. He glanced away, only to see Cana watching him with a judgmental, shit-eating grin.

"I'm gonna fix the fucking toaster," Laxus muttered with a slight blush, standing abruptly. Cana kept smirking. "Fuck off."

#Fraxus Day 2020 #Fraxus Day #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Event #Multichapter #Word Count 3.6k #Fuckyeahfraxus

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giftofshewbread · 3 years

Text

It’s Over! ( Biblical Update )

By Daymond Duck Published on: August 15, 2021

“This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come” (II Tim. 3:1).

Be aware that “evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived” (II Tim. 3:13).

The right of U.S. citizens to freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom to buy and sell, etc., is being challenged by the shadow government’s desire to restrict and/or control American’s freedom of religion, speech, right to buy and sell, etc.

Covid is a global medical crisis that the godless shadow government created to justify the establishment of a world government, world religion, and worldwide tracking system to enslave everyone on earth.

The public is being told that proof of vaccination (passports, I.D. cards, or whatever) is needed to bring Covid-19 under control when the truth of the matter is that Covid-19 and the variants are a tool that the rich and powerful are using to bring all people under their control.

It is possible and perhaps likely that this proof of vaccination will eventually be followed by the lockdown and persecution of Christian groups and institutions based on their support for Bible teaching and lack of support for the globalist agenda (the godless world government, godless world religion, abortion, gay rights, etc.).

Before the persecution reaches its peak, Christians will be removed (Raptured) from this earth, and the door will be thrown wide open for the godless shadow government to select a leader to take dictatorial power on earth.

Following his appearance, their so-called proof of vaccination will probably evolve into a data system that will be used to determine who can buy and sell, who can live or die, etc. (Don’t overlook the fact that some of the leaders that want to force everyone to be vaccinated are the same people that want to reduce the population of the earth from almost 8 billion to about half a billion; many support abortion, gay marriage, euthanasia, etc.).

God will allow these godless globalists to select a leader to rule for seven years, but God will ultimately cause them to regret what they have done for all eternity.

A reader recently sent an e-mail to this writer containing part of a message that Dr. Franklin Graham delivered at a Baptist Church in Florida.

Dr. Graham said, “The American Dream has ended.”

Readers need to understand that the one who said “The American Dream has ended” is one of the most highly respected preachers in the world, not a fanatic and not a prophecy teacher, but America must decline if the globalists are going to meet their goal of a world government and a world religion by 2030 or before.

Here is a repeat from the article I wrote last week: On July 27, 2021, former Sec. of State Mike Pompeo said, “Collapse from within is possible… Immigration without assimilation, illicit drugs, human trafficking, disputed elections, inflationary risks have become the tools to disassemble our republic in what must surely be an attempt at national suicide.”

I want to close my opening remarks this way: We are not seeing the Mark of the Beast yet (people are not being jabbed in their right hand or forehead; people are not taking the name, number, or Mark of the Beast; unvaccinated people can still buy and sell in most places; etc.).

On the other hand, we are seeing the global development and advancement of technology and policies that many excellent Bible prophecy teachers believe will lead to the Mark of the Beast (forced compliance, loss of one’s job, development of passports or passes, a demand for government databases to track people, a demand to prevent the unvaccinated from entering stores to buy or sell, the spread of anti-Christian rhetoric, etc.).

Also, keep in mind the fact that the Church will be Raptured a minimum of 3 ½ years (and perhaps more) before the global development and advancement of the technology and policies goes into effect as the Mark of the Beast (the Gates of Hell will not prevail against the Church).

Here are other reasons to believe that history is approaching end of the age Bible predictions and the American Dream is over.

One, when Jesus was asked about the signs of His coming, He listed famines, pestilences, earthquakes, etc. (notice that the words are plural as in more than one famine, more than one pestilence, etc.; Matt. 24:7).

Today, the world is trying to deal with Covid-19, the Delta (India variant), Lambda (Peru variant), and Epsilon variant (pestilences plural).

Two, on Aug. 6, 2021, California announced that a low water level caused by drought has forced the shutdown of the state’s second largest hydroelectric plant for the first time since the dam was completed in 1977.

The state will be able to get electricity from other systems.

More: On Aug. 4, 2021, the Dixie wildfire destroyed Greenville, Cal., a gold rush town of about 1,200 people (5 days later, Fox News reported that about 600 buildings have burned and about 13,000 are in danger).

More: On Aug. 6, 2021, it was reported that Lake Powell on the Utah-Arizona border, the Great Salt Lake in Utah, and Lake Mead in Nevada have hit record lows this summer.

FYI: Drought is having a devastating impact on crops, cattle, hog, and sheep production in the U.S. (a very large part of America’s food supply).

FYI: Unprecedented wildfires are also taking place in Greece, Italy, Turkey, Lebanon, and Russia.

Three, during the Tribulation Period, the world will be divided into two groups: those that take the Mark of the Beast and those that refuse to take the Mark of the Beast.

Today, the world is being divided into two groups: those that have been vaccinated and those that have not been vaccinated.

Four, on Aug. 9, 2021, World Net Daily posted an article by Wayne Allen Root that said:

Republicans asked for “papers” from migrants who had broken into our country. Criminals. Democrats said, “No, that’s racism.”

Republicans asked for “papers” once every two years for federal elections to prove you have a right to vote. Democrats said, “No, that’s racism.”

Now Democrats want American citizens, not illegal aliens, not criminals, but patriots born in this country to produce papers 24/7. We’ll need papers to enter restaurants, bars, nightclubs, concerts, casinos, conventions, and hotels and to board a train, plane, or bus. We’ll need papers to enter a supermarket, or we’ll starve to death—all for the crime of being unvaccinated.

Note: U.S. Sen. Rand Paul said the U.S. is at a crossroads, and he is urging U.S. citizens to “resist the mandates, lockdowns, and the harmful policies of the petty tyrants and bureaucrats.”

Five, on Aug. 6, 2021, Natural News reported that the U.K. has admitted that it is building storage areas for bodies in the 32 boroughs of London and the city itself.

These storage areas are being built because the government expects an increase in deaths over the next five years due to their attempts to force people to be vaccinated (some people that are not allowed to buy and sell will go hungry, get sick, etc.).

Writer’s Comment: It is common for some people to ask how bad will God let it get before He Raptures His Church. No one knows the answer to this, but the situation is worsening, and Christians everywhere need to pray about it.

Six, on July 31, 2021, the Carnival Cruise Ship Vista left Galveston, TX with everyone or board vaccinated (every guest, every crew member, every staff member, everyone vaccinated; no unvaccinated people on board).

On Aug. 8, 2021, it was reported that a small number of people on the ship have tested positive for Covid.

Seven, God promised to bless those that bless Israel and to curse those that curse Israel (Gen. 12:3).

On Aug. 4, 2021, the Iranian-backed terrorist group that controls Lebanon, Hezbollah, fired three rockets into Israel.

On Aug. 5, 2021, Israeli jets struck terrorist targets in Lebanon for the first time in 15 years, and Pres. Biden announced that he will give the terrorist government $100 million dollars in economic aid (borrowed money that will add to inflation in the U.S.).

On Aug. 6, 2021, Hezbollah forces fired 19 rockets from Lebanon into Israel, and Israel responded with artillery fire.

On Aug. 8, 2021, new hardline Iranian Pres. Raisi met with leaders of the terrorist groups Hamas, Hezbollah, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ), and the Houthis, and promised to support their terrorist activities until Israel is defeated.

Writer’s Comment: This could easily get out of hand and lead to the fulfillment of several prophecies (Psa. 83 if that is a war; the Destruction of Damascus as prophesied in Isa. 17; the Battle of Gog and Magog as prophesied in Ezek. 38-39; time will tell.).

Eight, violence is on the increase, and some politicians want to defund the police and take the guns away from law-abiding citizens, but the globalist goal is only partly to prevent citizens from defending themselves against criminals.

The globalist goal is primarily to prevent citizens from defending the U.S. against the shadow government’s takeover of the U.S.

For whatever it is worth, thousands of people have marched in Paris and other French cities four weeks in a row to protest the loss of their freedoms.

On Aug. 6, protests erupted in Turin, Italy.

Nine, on Aug. 6, 2021, a guest on Fox & Friends said the strongest outbreak of the Covid Delta Variant is in Texas and Florida, and those two states are where the Biden administration has taken the largest number of Covid-infected migrants.

Ten, concerning global pandemics and the Mark of the Beast, on July 25, 2021, The Times of Israel reported on a study that found that people vaccinated before Feb. 2021 are twice as likely to get Covid as those vaccinated in June 2021 for two reasons: 1) Their vaccine effectiveness decreases over time and is becoming less effective every day; and 2) The Delta Variant is more contagious than the original Covid-19, and therefore more able to overcome the resistance of their declining vaccination.

The doctor that headed up the study said, “We definitely need to think about a third vaccine.”

It is the opinion of this writer that the globalists will want people to take a 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, etc. vaccination until they bring in the Mark of the Beast.

Update: On Aug. 5, 2021, Moderna said data shows a noticeable drop in antibody levels 6-8 months after a vaccinated person’s second jab, so vaccinated people will need to get a booster shot this fall.

Writer’s Comment: Just a reminder to U.S. citizens that Pres. Biden said, “You’re not going to get Covid if you have these vaccines.”

Eleven, concerning world government: it is widely known that the World Economic Forum (WEF) wants to establish a world government and eliminate private property ownership by 2030 or before.

The WEF even produced a video saying, “You will own nothing, and you will be happy.”

My article “Developing Now,” posted two weeks ago, quoted Tony Koretz who said, “A global medical dictatorship is rising.”

I added that “It is hard to deny that the shadow government is using unelected individuals to dictate policies to nations all over the world.”

On Aug. 3, 2021, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) extended the U.S. government’s eviction moratorium, a document that allows renters in areas that have a high level of Covid to not pay their rent.

Put another way, property owners that have rented their house, apartment, etc., to someone else must make the mortgage payments (if the property owner has a mortgage payment), pay to keep the house, apartment, etc., repaired, and the property owner cannot evict the renter for not paying their rent (the renter can live in the house free, and the property owner must pay the bills).

The fact that the CDC (a medical group) can force private property owners to make the property payments and let renters live in the property free sure looks like a global medical dictatorship has taken over.

The real owners of the property are not happy with making the payments and receiving no rent.

Twelve, on Aug. 4, 2021, concerning a Mark on the forehead to buy and sell, it was reported that Amazon is now using palm scanners at 53 Amazon-owned stores, and it plans to expand the program to other stores in the U.S.

Customers can use a simple hand scan to pay, enter or I.D. themselves, and Amazon will give them a $10 promotional credit to sign up.

Before my final word, pastor Keith Watts asked me to include this paragraph in my article (something I can’t start doing for ministries all over the world): “I am asking all prayer warriors from around the world to join with us for a day of prayer, fasting, and repentance on August 16, 2021, for the sake of the Philippines and on behalf of over 110,950,213 precious souls. We will be fasting from the time we wake up until we go to bed, interceding on behalf of the lost souls in the Philippines.”

Finally, are you Rapture Ready?

If you want to be rapture ready and go to heaven, you must be born again (John 3:3). God loves you, and if you have not done so, sincerely admit that you are a sinner; believe that Jesus is the virgin-born, sinless Son of God who died for the sins of the world, was buried, and raised from the dead; ask Him to forgive your sins, cleanse you, come into your heart and be your Saviour; then tell someone that you have done this.

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