#showcasing the worst sit posture she's ever had

[ocala-is-calling]

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Archive of laughter

A/N: Natasha realizes that Clint’s motivation is at a new low and tries to shift his mind away from the present. When he accidentally offers her the perfect method for doing so, she does not hesitate. Set in the What if… episode 1x08 with post-apocalyptic Clintasha vibes. I missed them.

2766 words

„Ughhhh.“

„…“

„Hngggh.“

„…“

„Aw man aw man aw man.“

Natasha looked up from the sheets in her hands with a reprimanding look in her eyes. „Clint!“

„What?“ With a sour expression he sent her a glare over his metal shoulder from where he stood in front of a gigantic shelf, stacked with boxes full of documents. „If I don’t get to bitch about this, I doubt I’ll live through it.“

Natasha’s annoyed countenance made room for worry when she saw how large the shadows under Clint’s eyes were. How dark and hopeless they looked over the left-over shelves of the Archive. Hundreds of them, holding God knew how many files they had to look through to find answers.

It wasn’t like Clint was being dramatic. He was at the limit of his strength, at the far corner of his already fragile mental stability after years of running, hiding, bleeding and grieving. After years of trying to endure the fact that him and Natasha were, as far as they were informed, the last two living beings not only of their planet, but of the entire universe. After Ultron had destroyed everything and everyone else.

Natasha knew what he felt like, knew how hard it could get to keep it together, to not succumb to madness. Especially when faced with an enormous Russian Archive stacked with billion sheets of paper that may or may not offer them a solution in a single printed line or a minimal percentage of about 0,0001 percent of the files at hand.

She could see the horror Clint was experiencing in connection to the possibly hopeless workload that lay ahead of them and she was scared of the thoughts that were currently running through his mind, unseen, pondering dark questions and possibilities she did not dare to even consider.

She had to do something.

Slowly she lowered the files she held in her hands and stared at Clint’s back while he was already busy flipping through boxes again, his head hanging almost as low as his shoulders.

„Hey,“ she gently addressed him, making him stop and look over his shoulder again. Such tired blue eyes. She’d never seen them look this tired before. „Clint, I promise, this will be worth the effort. We will find something that will make all this go away again. Something that will defeat Ultron. I know it.“

His eyes lingered on her for a few moments longer, sadness reflected inside them. Then he turned around again, his shoulders as heavy as before. „Yeah. Sure.“

Now Natasha’s shoulders slumped down as well.

No, no, no, she could not leave him be this way, she could not let this slip and act as if everything was a-okay. She was acting cheerful for the sake of the both of them. But she knew it wouldn’t be good for anything if Clint continued faking smiles and showcasing his I-have-no-hope-left-but-I’ll-do-this-for-you expression.

He didn’t want to worry her. Which was the exact reason why she was so worried.

„Clint?“ She tried again, smiling, despite his loud sigh as he put his box away and turned around another time to face her. With one hand resting on the shelf to support himself he looked at her, softly, despite his obvious frustration. „Yes?“

„Can you imagine that we once thought being caught in an airvent for two days was basically the worst?“

Something in Clint’s posture changed at that. He opened his eyes a bit more and suddenly huffed a short laugh, nodding at her words. „Yeah. Two days. How laughable that seems now.“

„It sure does. But we made the most of it, didn’t we? How did we keep ourselves distracted back then?“ 
Clint pushed himself away from the shelf with a smile, his thoughts obviously shifting from the dark corner of his mind to a brighter one. Natasha’s smile widened.

„Well, you took an awful load of time to find out that I repeatedly wrote the same word during our Hangman matches.“

Natasha had to laugh out loud at that. „Okay, to my own defense: I did not yet know how stupid you actually were back then!“

„Touché,“ Clint grinned, the shadows under his eyes vanishing slightly. „You did find out about quite a few things while we were hiding out up there. The worst part being that you discovered how ticklish I was. Not exactly fun times for me.“

Natasha smirked at the memory. „Oh no, those were actually reeeeally fun times for you. I remember you laughing incessantly in fact.“

„Do you now?“ Clint squinted his eyes at her in mock anger, a warning spark shooting through them.

„Especially when I tickled you in that one particular spot… where was that again? I think you actually begged for me to stop when I got you th-“

„Tz, shut up!“

Natasha gasped in fake indignation as Clint suddenly turned his back to her, his voice altering to a slightly more embarrassed tone and his hand waving her off, as if to tell her not to dwell on it too much. Of course, that was, in her opinion, the most adorable reaction he could have possibly chosen and she would now dwell on it even more than before. Slowly she moved out of her cross-legged position on the floor, threateningly wiggling her fingertips around. Wasn’t this actually the perfect way to cheer up her favorite person in the world? Why hadn’t she thought of this before?

„Wait, I think I actually do remember. Would you mind if we test this memory, just to make sure-“

„Now is not the time, Natasha.“ He gently tried to reason with her, a meaningful look in his blue eyes when he shortly turned his head around to glance at her.

Natasha lowered her hands. But a teasing smirk remained on her face. „The time for what?“ Clint tried to appear unimpressed by her attempt to make him say it. He seemed determined not to step into her trap this time. Not after all those times he’d already made that mistake.

„You’re not gonna make me say it.“

„Say what, Clint?“

Natasha noticed that he kept looking over his shoulder ever so slightly, as she started approaching him, taking note of her sneakily coming closer. The smallest smile played around the corners of his lips.

„I said you’re not gonna make me say it.“

Natasha felt a wave of happiness course through her stomach at the way Clint’s voice altered ever so slightly. He was smiling, she could tell. Now she was going to make him laugh.

Clint sighed as Natasha came to a halt right behind him. By now he had to be able to feel her breath on the back of his neck.

Natasha’s fingertips were itching to search for some ticklish spots.

„Don’t!“ He said gently, without any conviction whatsoever, the small smile still audible in his words.

„Don’t what, Clint?“ Natasha asked again, her hands slowly nearing his sides from behind.

Clint sighed, his shoulders moving up and down. It was a sigh of defeat. The sigh of someone who had accepted his own fate. Probably already had on the day he’d met her. A fate filled with being Natasha’s favorite victim. She could feel anticipation surge within her as Clint tried to mentally prepare himself for the consequences of his actions. Or rather of her actions.

„Tickle me!“ He submitted with a slightly panicked ring to his voice.

And Natasha didn’t allow him a moment to second guess. „My pleasure.“

Clint was on his knees in no time, dropping the files he’d held in his hands and throwing his head back against the awful feeling spreading on his sides. He instinctively tried to press his elbows to his sides to limit the access for Natasha’s ticklish scratches but she easily wormed her way past his defenses, making his suppressed groans turn into giggles effortlessly.

„NO!“ He huffed, trying to bend over more, further away from her, giggling madly as Natasha’s fingers managed to weasle their way under his arms to scratch at his ribs. „Noho plehease!! Tasha!!“

Natasha chuckled triumphantly and tried to climb her fingertips up higher, tried to get them past his ribcage to wiggle them right into his most ticklish spots, right under his arms. But Clint was trying his utmost to keep her from reaching that spot.

„You are saying no, but you asked me to do this, remember?“ Natasha teased, chuckling when Clint tried to snarl at her, with the emphasis on „tried to“ since any possible effect fell flat due to his laughter mixing in loudly.

„Stahahhaap I mean it!!!“ Clint barked when she suddenly pulled her hands away from his ribs to sling her arms around his chest and pull him down on his back, trying to climb on top of him to pin him down properly. He had to laugh at her antics as he in return tried to grab a hold of her arms or legs or basically any part of her body to have a minimal chance of coming out of this without ridiculing himself senseless.

He didn’t stand a chance though, for his bones and muscles already had to start feeling like useless goo, his laughter wouldn’t seize and he couldn’t see properly through his closed eyes. Natasha couldn’t stop smiling either as she could witness all the beauty of Clint melting underneath her touch - into a tiny puddle of giggles and shrieks.

„No no NOO!! AHahaha GET OHOHFF MEE!!!“ Clint yelled when she accidentally pushed a knee in his stomach in their grappling for the upperhand, resulting in her managing to sit on his hips properly, keeping him down where she wanted to keep him.

„Youhohu fohohoul cheheeater!!“ He laughed when her fingertips started crawling up his sides again and he only had limited space for flailing and turning anymore, his laughetr sounding deeper and more breathless already.

„Cheater? Really? What, just because I hit you here?“ She questioned, making him choke on his laughter when she scribbled her fingers on his stomach.

„Dohohon’t!“ He shrieked, hitting his head against the floor by accident and laughing even more in the aftermath. „IT TICKLES!!“

„I know, honey, it’s why you’re laughing!“ Natasha explained in a playful voice, before she had to free her wrists from one of his iron defensive grips in protection of his upper body, which didn’t stop her for long as she merely had to lean down to blow a raspberry on his unprotected neck, making Clint who had not expected this at all squeal with laughter.

„TH-THAHAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!“ He argued, letting go of her hands and trying to push her away from himself again, laughing helplessly when her fingers were back on their way up his ribs in no time. „Stahahap it already!!!“

„No! We haven’t yet tested my memory!“

„It’s my armpits!! I prhohohomise!! No need for tests, rehehheally!! rEHEHEALLY!!“

Clint kicked out as hard as he could behind Natasha’s back as she managed to wiggle her fingertips the slightest bit underneath his biceps and metal arm to get at the sensitive spots. She smirked and tried to distract Clint by blowing air into his face, chuckling when she saw him squeeze his eyes shut even more. „StAHHAP THAT!!“

„Come on, lemme! Just for a second!“

„Nohoho wahahay!!“

Clint’s laughter was flowing completely freely by then. He had seemingly let go of all things depressing for just this small amount of time, giving in to the unrelenting ticklish feeling and not trying to fight his own laughter anymore. Natasha hadn’t seen him this carefree in years.

She could not stop now, where she was seconds away from making him lose all track of thought. Just for a little while. Determined she moved up a little further on his body, sitting down on his upper stomach and almost making his eyes pop out by the sudden shifts of weight. He couldn’t form a coherent complaint though, since Natasha quickly moved her hands behind her back to dance her fingers down his sides, that were now completely at her mercy due to their new position.

„NHOHOO!! Nohoohoho!! stAHHAHP!! I can’t bREHEHEATHE!!!“ Clint’s eyes were shining from his laughter by now, the bright blue of his iris taking Natasha’s breath away. She grinned at his futile attempts to get a grip of her hands and took this opportunity to push her knees up further, blocking Clint’s ability to defend his armpits any further. He realized this immediately and barked out a single „SHIT!“ before her fingers attacked, making him arch his back and give in to a defeated laughter that came straight from his belly and sounded deeper and richer than all the sounds he’d already made. He couldn’t get another word in, as his laughter kept pouring out of him, merely started shaking his head around and kicking out less than before.

Natasha smiled fondly as she listened to his hearty laughter, the one she hadn’t heard in so long and saw how it brightened up his features.

„I think this proves it alright.“ She chuckled, removing her fingers from his armpit to allow him a breather before she evilly snuck them in again.

„NO NO NO PLEHEHEASE!! STAHAHP!!“ Clint barked out, his laughter sounding a tad bit hysterical as he tried to move out of his fatal position now. But Natasha immediately stopped at his request and gently shifted back to sitting on his hips, allowing his arms to cover his ampits again.

She chuckled softly as he gasped for air, noisily, sounding as if he’d just ran a marathon, his head falling back to the ground. She put her hands on his stomach and grinned when he flinched underneath her touch, gently patting the spot in an offer of peace.

„No more tickling, I promise.“

Clint sighed in relief and moved his head up to look at her again. They glared at each other for a little while, before they both had to laugh - about each other, about themselves, about the fact that they had just done this in the midst of an apocalypse.

Clint groaned and tried to stop chuckling with a pained expression. „Ah, I can’t laugh no more. My stomach will explode!“

„What can I say, Clint, you asked for this!“ Natasha smirked, chuckling when Clint squinted his eyes at her dangerously.

„Oh, you better watch it! I know that you’re not immune to this either!“ Clint tried to poke her in the side, but Natasha snatched his wrist and held on tightly.

„You wouldn’t stand a chance!“

Clint grinned at her, a grin she hadn’t seen in quite a while.

„I’ll attack when you least expect it!“ He purred in a voice that sent a goosebump down Natasha’s arm. Damn, she’d missed this Clint.

„I’ll always expect it then,“ she retorted and stuck her tongue out at him, getting back to her feet and offering him a hand but dropping it again before he could reach for it. Clint chuckled at that. Slowly he pushed himself off the ground as well to get back to where he’d been so rudely interrupted previously.

With his hands on his hips he looked over the shelves of the Archive and sighed. „If you keep doing things like that, we’ll never be done here.“ Clint remarked, bending over to pick up the files he’d dropped earlier.

Natasha waited until he was standing upright again, before she took a step closer to him and threw her arms around him. Clint gasped in surprise, the files flying from his hand to the floor. With a tired huff, he ignored the mess and gently wrapped his arms around Natasha as well. She could feel his warm breath on her head and snuggled closer to his chest.

„It’ll be okay,“ Clint suddenly whispered, stealing her line. She moved her head away from his chest in surprise to look at him. He was smiling, nodding - and she realized that it was all she’d needed from him: reassurance.

She turned her lips into a thin line and nodded as well, a weak smile on her face.

„It will be,“ she agreed, meaning to move away from him and get back to work. But his grip tightened around her. She looked up in horror.

„You didn’t expect that.“ He smirked and Natasha could not believe that he had turned the tables this sneakily until he lifted her into the air, threw her over his shoulder and tickled her sides until her laughter and her fists to his back grew weaker.

[ddarker-dreams]

Spice Up Your Life. Trish x F Reader 🎀

[Scarlet Ribbon description]

How much longer will you have to sit here in excruciating silence?

Trish stares out the window, roseate lips pursed together. Neither of you make a move, for presumably different reasons. The limited set of information that you were offered leaves a lot to be desired, but you’re capable of filling in the gaps. You’re not sure if it’s pity you feel for her, seeing as she’s been snappy with the rest of your team up until this point. It’s impossible to hold it against her, knowing the whirlwind her life had become upon discovering her father is the boss of a crime syndicate.

Countless times, you’ve felt a draw to speak up. To fill the air with lively conversation, maybe even learn more about her as a person. Every attempt has been snuffed before it ever had the chance to exist, her look of indifference ensuring that. You run a hand through your hair, a silent sigh leaving your lips. Fiddling with the frays of your shorts, you wish you had something to focus on. Anything to alleviate this awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t help that you’re hungry, though you manage to push down all thoughts of food.

She looks down at her manicured nails, bright emerald eyes shifting to you. They’re unreadable, much to your discomfort.

“Are you not allowed to speak?” 

Her voice shakes you from your thoughts. Your heart thumps against your rib cage, and you almost chastise yourself for being this tense around a girl close to your age. The words have an edge to them, but her tone says otherwise. She’s not sure what to think of you yet, though the feeling is mutual. This might be a good opportunity, if you’re able to push down your unease over conversing with your mysterious boss’ daughter. Having survived many life or death encounters, this should be a walk in the park.

“I can speak.” you respond after a moment’s deliberation. It sounded better in your head. Trish tilts her head to the side, hugging her knee closer to her chest. You assume this must be the end of the exchange that never truly began. Was it that bad of an answer...? A silent prayer is said that Narancia returns from shopping soon, so that you can rejoin the others. 

“One of them called you… [First], right?” Trish gives you a once over, trying to deduce if her observation is correct. You blink, dumbfounded. She’s asking about your name? Until this point, Trish hasn’t expressed any desire in learning more about you, or anyone else for that matter. Not that you’re taking it personally. On a practical level, there isn’t anything to be gained from it, since none of you know anything but basic orders. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” you nod your head for good measure. God, you feel so lame. “If you need anything, let me know.” 

From how her posture remains closed off, you get the feeling that’s not what this is about. Her shoulders slump, and she goes back to looking out the window. A more plausible explanation about her unprecedented actions comes to mind, and you silently berate yourself for your clinical approach. It’s a hunch, but one you feel confident in. That maybe what she wants is someone to talk to, on a casual level. Not playing a mental game of chess where both parties tip toe around in fear of upsetting the other, like is so common in the world of gangsters. You’ll talk to her like you would anyone else in your team.

“Do you go to the nail salon to get manicures?” you speak up, fully unprompted, Trish turning her head away in favor of looking at you. She pauses, looking for something in your countenance that isn’t there; an agenda. 

She lowers her leg, considering your words. “... Normally, yes. I haven’t been able to lately.” 

Trish’s response, though still guarded, gives you a faint glimmer of hope. Some part of you feels guilty for judging her prematurely. Knowing Bucciarati, he likely ordered you to remain close by to her for this very reason. He has a compassionate heart, that you know from firsthand experience. Out of everyone under him, he likely deduced that you’d have the best chance of befriending Trish. 

You lift your hand up for her to inspect, showcasing your own attempts at doing your nails. The non-dominant hand served to be the biggest problem, and it took twenty minutes of begging Fugo for him to help you out. And a few promises thrown in for good measure. Your other roommate, Narancia, had been considered a candidate for a moment. You saw him jumping with energy, and decided his abundance of energy would make it impossible for him to concentrate on the task. Mista, is well, Mista… so you didn’t even bother asking. 

Much to your surprise, Fugo did a good job, though he was none too pleased about his task at first. He stayed on the nail and was very particular about not messing up. It’s been about a week since then, though, and some of your dark purple nail polish had started to chip off. That’s the least of your concerns at the moment. What matters the most is getting this bodyguard job completed.

“I take it you did that yourself?” Trish props herself off the windowsill to get a closer look. You feel internally victorious, having successfully maintained her interest. Going through the specifics would be a waste of time, so you sheepishly nod your head. She sits down next to you on the bed, which creaks under the added weight. Without asking, her hand takes yours, bringing it closer for scrutiny. Her hands are soft, you think to yourself. You wonder what kind of moisturizer she uses. She moves it from side to side, before revealing her verdict.

“It’s not the worst I’ve ever seen,” she places your hand back down, eyelashes fluttering when glancing at the one Fugo did and tapping it twice. “This one has room for improvement. If you ever have a leftover eyeliner brush, use that to remove excess on the sides...” 

She continues to go into depth about nail care, offering advice from her favorite brands to what colors would best compliment your skin tone. You can’t help but smile at her sudden surge in talkativeness, feeling just a bit closer to her. The remaining time until Narancia’s return is spent discussing different beauty related topics, and you forget all about the concerns that plagued you from before.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

Two thoughts for your garbage fire extraordinarie!

I would love hear your worst holiday lines for your unholy trinity! “Santa’s not the only packing a big sack,” etc!

Or, if you want a break from that shit lol. Here’s one of my personal Clyde HCs that you use as you please! Since you asked...

So, I’m not not super into dad kink myself, but I totally see Clyde as been like super dominant, but polite about it lol. Things like “maybe if ya tell me real nice why you think ya deserve to cum, I’ll let ya.” Or “now, ya just know how much I hate doin’ this to ya, darlin,’ but ya had to keep goin.’” “Ya know good n’ well that a lady’s supposed to say ‘please’ when she’s askin’ for my cock.”

I also think he’s a freak in the sheets with one of the filthiest mouths and I think he has a breeding kink! He’s gonna give you a lot more than just a present under the tree and he’ll make sure “your Christmas is gonna be extra white this year, lil’ darlin.’”

I feel ashamed.

FUCKIN OMG @safarigirlsp I LOVE THIS TIME OF THE WEEK BECAUSE OF THE DEPRAVITY BETWEEN OUR BOYS AND THEIR STUPID CATCHPHRASES! SO AS AN XMAS GIFT TO YOU AND EVERYONE SURROUNDING THE GARBAGE FIRE IM GONNA ANSWER ALL THE QUESTIONS FROM THESE CRAZY AU’S TO THE BEST OF MY CRACK BRAIN KNOWLEDGE!

HERE WE FUCKIN’ GO! 😂

Favorite one liners from our holy trinity....

The first being our resident Sea Fury, Capt. Flip SS “Blowhole” Zimmerman BDE, who now that I think about it must not really know what Xmas is, given that he sails the seas constantly and could give a rat’s ass about holidays in general. After all, he’s got treasure to find for himself and no time to dilly dally with stupid festivities such as Christmas. 

Sure, there’s an occasional snow storm on the high seas, which freeze him and his crew’s dingle berries to raisins when it blows through, but there’s no lights surrounding the massive Jolly Roger, no festive music of any kind because he runs a tight ass ship, clean as a fuckin’ whistle at all times with no fuckin’ funny business, except in the case of fuckin’ around with you that is. 

On the eve of the 25th, pirate time, the both of you are settled in your dining hall, a feast of succulent seafoods, baked to perfection via the resident cook on the ship, lay before your starving eyes. 

Your clad in one of your synched corsets, hardly able to gulp down the wine he’d poured because the waist is knotted so damn tight, causing your tits to practically explode onto the table, like he would so badly welcome at this point. 

He sits perched in his captain’s chair, dressed in his finest buccaneer garb, feathered hat and all, swirling his chalice as he devours your body with his eyes in the candle light. 

Watching your every move as you choke down the drink, throat moving to push down the liquor as you take a deep inhale, expanding your gravid chest as you push your self more into the seating. 

Noticing your boobs bounce with every motion you make to add food to your plate, the ebbs and flows of your soft tits as they beg to be set free from their cage. 

His cock twitches in his pantaloons as he catches himself boring into your chest, clearing his throat to take a swig of his wine as well, before gathering himself back into reality. 

“Where did ya go sailor?” chuckling as you watched him chug his spirits down his gullet, watching his Adam’s Apple bob as you salivated thinking about sucking a huge bruise on the appendage. 

He forced the glass on the table, shaking the food as he exhaled from his gulps, gathering his thoughts for a moment and then turning back to your position, eyes darkened with mischief. 

“I was... thinking,” he cooed, spreading his thighs wide, showing the mast that had erupted in his pants, “I heard the men conversing about this day being a special one of sorts,” taking his hat from his head to run his thick fingers through his hair. 

“And?” you paused from taking a bite of shrimp before he continued further, “what does this have to do with what you were staring me down for Phillip?” cocking your head to the side as he watched your tits waver from your motions. 

“I was thinking of making it a special one for us as well, my sweet siren,” cooing as he leaned himself closer to your side of the table, “what do ya say ya sit on ol’ captain’s mast and tell him your deepest desires?” coaxing a finger to lead you to his thick meaty thighs as you blushed, thinking about him impaling your pussy on his whale cock. 

Now onto our noble land warrior, This Is Sparta... 

I had to do some digging on this one because I know the Spartan’s had several festivals they celebrated because of their many Gods and Goddesses they worshipped and made sacrifices to... So, the closest I found was the tradition of Gymnopaedia (or the festival of naked youths as it’s translated) which is celebrated for over a week and honoring the three mythical beings Apollo, Artemis, and their mother, Leto and showcased bachelors and their marital and athletic capabilities (similar to the Olympics but naked) to the single women of the city of Sparta. 

SO LET’S HAVE SOME FUN WITH BACHELOR WARRIOR FLIP SHOWIN’ OFF THE GOODS TO HIS BRIDE TO BE! 

The streets were fraught with nude and glistening warriors of all abilities. Their bulging muscles, thick meaty thighs, and their endowments on display for all the thirsty women of the city to pick and choose their best suitors. 

You sat perched in your spot as you surveyed the music and majesty before you. A face in a crowd of hundreds of hungry women, each devouring their male counterparts, itching to be filled with their potent seed as they tossed discus and arrows to show their strength and protective capabilities. 

None of them were catching your eyes, however, even if they all were desperate for the attention, demonstrating their wares for the most beautiful woman in the village. 

Each begging to be the apple of your eye, practically injuring themselves as they showcased their endurance and stamina to get you to pick one of them from the crowd of body oil and testicles. 

You sighed, shooing away the suitors one by one, earning scoffs and side eyes from the other women, telling you to stop being so picky or else your womb will dry up from your negative outlook on the sea of cocks clouding your vision. 

You craved something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you desired a man whom desired you in the least desperate sense. Who cherished your independence, your thoughts, your body, and your soul. None of these suitors were capable of fulfilling your womb in that sense, so you kept with the shooing as you searched for your perfect mate. 

Suddenly, a valiant warrior appeared from the crowd, his muscles rippled and his cock swinging at attention as he made his way to the front of the line of men. 

His hair and inky frame over his chiseled face as he bent over to grip the disc laying in wait, encircling the rock with his humongous hands as his back and legs flexed from him lifting the weight above his head. 

Your womb ached as you watched him effortlessly throw the object further and more accurate than any of the other boys present during this festival of games, the heat causing a bead of sweat to form over your heaving tits clasped under your white robes. 

He huffed as he descended from his perch, moving his way to the crowd of hungry women, each fawning over his size and strength as they clawed to get his attention. 

He paid them no mind, zeroing in on your goddess-like posture, not giving him a single indication that you were interested, even if inside you wanted to scrape the ever loving fuck out of his thick pectorals. 

Your eyes met as he trudged through the seas of desperate cries and declarations of love from the girls below you, pushing them off like flies as he came to your eye level. 

You crossed your legs, pushing your chest out like the lady you were, not breaking eye contact with the brave soldier before you. 

“Y/N,” he muttered out amongst the music and cheer, his face the picture of seriousness as he spoke it to you. 

“Phillip,” you recanted back, smoothing your garment over your midsection, only to look back up to see his cock, half hard and leaned to the left, precum leaking from the tip as his pecs rose and fell from his glistening chest. 

“Will you join me in a dance?” moving a large hand in front of him as he begged you with his darkened eyes, to move off your throne of sorts, “please,” his voice changed slightly in desperation for your delicate hand. 

You sat there, taking in the moment as it came, moving a hand to envelope in his as you lifted your effervescent figure to come to his nude form, feeling his cock press against your thigh as he took you in his arms. 

“This way my dove,” he calmly led you through the mess of scowls and scoffs from the other bachelorettes, knowingly irritated at the fact that you’d bagged the hottest and most fertile warrior in the city. 

It was the best festival week of your entire life, ending with the betrothal between the both of you, sealed by the Gods themselves. 

(I’m sorry there’s no funny catchphrase I couldn’t find a way to weasel it in this kind of story lmao, but I did say cock a lot so there’s that!)

And last but certainly not least, the Holy Ghost himself, Rootin’ Tootin’ Shootin’ Cowboy Rustler Flip Zimmerman (Huckleberry) 

It was a good ol’ fashioned country Christmas on the homestead, complete with snow, ice, and of course you tied up on the dining room table being stuffed seven different ways to Sunday like a holiday honey ham. 

You’d already sustained your precious cowboy mercilessly face fucking you, cumming an unholy amount deep in your throat, the remnants mixing with your saliva as you laid spread wide open on the wood furniture. 

Your breath heaving from your chest as you begged for Flip to continue his holiday quest of stuffing you full of him for Christmas. 

“P-please Phil!” you begged, exhausted and wishing he’d touch you in the spot you so badly craved, “I-I!” stammering as he chuckled above you, lighting a cigarette, with is cowboy hat atop his head, and his naked hulking body heaving from his attack on your precious mouth. 

“Ya know I love it when ya beg ta be stuffed like a Christmas stocking ma sweet vixen,” inhaling a drag of sweet nicotine as he watched your cunt gasp for his cock, dripping in anticipation as he made himself hard again watching your asshole pucker from the air in the room. 

“Yer lil’ pussy’s beggin’ for me ain’t she?” he exhaled a cloud, gripping his half hard dick, smearing the remnants of your spit on his girth as he threw his head back form his own touch, “beggin’ to be stuffed like that damn turkey in the oven,” he cooed, ashing his filter in the tray by the doorway, rubbing his hands together as he surveyed your pretty figure, laid out for him. 

“She o-only wants y-you,” whining as you tried to wrench your head around to see where he’d found himself, hoping he was mere inches away from your heat as you writhed in your restraints. 

“Mhmm,” he mused, running his thick hands on your ass, smoothing the skin as he reared one hand to slap it with all the might he could, the ripple from the heat of the blow causing an instant five-star to bloom on the pristine cheek. 

“I love these honey hams a yours darlin’,” he cooed, slapping the other cheek to match its twin, “there so, juicy,” eyes growing dark as he drank in your whines from the pained blows you’d sustained. 

Stilling your hips to prod his thick cock at your weeping hole, the pressure causing you to lose your ever loving mind as you felt him penetrate your walls with a painfully slow motion, making your cunt eat him centimeter by centimeter. 

“P-Phil!” screaming out and begging for more friction, trying to break free from your expertly knotted ties on the legs of the table. 

“Uh huh darlin’,” he tsked, still inching himself in as you cried out into the living room, “naughty girls don’t get presents, don’t ya remember how the song goes sugar?” he chuckled, stilling himself for what seemed like hours before he started his assault on your tight little hole. 

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. I CANNOT EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I WROTE I HOPE IT’S DECENT ENOUGH TO BE WORTHY OF THE WHALE COCK VIBES! 

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Let’s Help Each Other (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Prompt: AU where the twins and the Avengers are on opposite sides. The Avengers track them down and run into them in their hometown, taking care of and entertaining the children there, Pietro by playing with them and Wanda by telling a story (idk who else but it’s a Wanda x ___… either Nat or Fem!reader works for me). Based on the song Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh, Hellos because I found it and it’s So Cute™

Words: 1918

Warnings: None?

A/N: Should I do a part 2?

-X-

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” Steve introduced, pressing a button on the remote, bringing the screen to life and presenting pictures of the twins.

You tilted your head as you studied the photos that flashed across the screen. They were flickering, showing protests and showcasing the two Maximoffs screaming in the Sokovian crowds before the final picture appeared, leaving you stunned – and a bit in awe.

The woman, Wanda, was floating slightly in the air, an eerie red glow around her. It wasn’t menacing and she clearly was doing no harm; in fact, it actually looked like she was playing with the children surrounding her in the photo, warming your heart a little. You didn’t know why but it brought a smile to your face. You couldn’t understand why the others looked so serious.

“What’s wrong with them?” you inquired, brows furrowed thoughtfully. “They don’t seem like they’re doing any harm.”

Steve pursed his lips. “They’re former HYDRA experiments turned thieves. They’ve been stealing from major pharmaceuticals and other companies around Europe. Wanda uses her powers to manipulate the minds of the guards and the employees while her brother uses his speed to steal whatever they came for. They’re becoming real threats because no one knows what they’re using it all for. So, we’ve been called in to deal with them.”

Everyone nodded, yourself included, but this didn’t sit right in the pit of your stomach. Something felt off about this. They never hurt anyone in the buildings and only left with a handful of things. Why were they considered threatening enough that the Avengers were being called in?

You lingered in the room after everyone was gone staring at the photos in the dossier before you. Most of them were of Wanda with an occasional shot of her brother – though he was mostly a blur. Wanda, with her soft brunette locks and hauntingly green eyes.

Browsing through the folder, you pursed your lips.

You had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well. It was quite possible that this had less to do with them being “evil” or “criminals” and more to do with who they were stealing from. They clearly weren’t doing these things in the name of HYDRA or any other organizations, so what were their motives?

“Hey, you coming?” Natasha asked, peeking around the corner of the door.

Startled, you slammed the folder closed though a picture skirted out of the side. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

“Well, c’mon. Tony is getting impatient – and an impatient Tony is an annoying Tony,” the former assassin huffed, earning an uneasy smile from you.

“Tell Stark to get his panties out of a twist. I’ll be right there,” you replied, sparing the picture one final glance. Her eyes connected with yours and you exhaled deeply.

Yeah, you weren’t going to enjoy this.

-X-

The moment the quinjet touched down outside of Sokovia, everyone – except Bruce – filed out of the aircraft and started for the town. You were up front with Steve, your knives sheathed at your hips as you cautiously wandered into the heart of Sokovia. Tony was above you surveying the scene, hoping to catch sight of the twins, which wasn’t hard considering they weren’t hiding.

“They’re at the…orphanage?” Tony informed you, though it sounded like a question, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The hand that had been hovering over your knife fell away and you straightened up. “They’re at the orphanage? Are you sure?”

“Would you like a picture, (Y/N)?” Tony sneered, peering down at you.

Rolling your eyes, you separated from the group and hurried toward the orphanage, leaving behind the other Avengers. You could hear Steve chiding you but you didn’t care. You wanted to see this before your teammates intervened.

Coming upon the rundown building, you slowed. You could see a blur of a human playing ball with multiple children, keeping up as each child threw balls at it. It was an amazing sight and you assumed the blur was Pietro, considering he was possibly the only person in the town capable of such a feat.

He must have noticed you, however, because the blur became whole in a split second.

He stared at you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a snarl. He crossed his arms, daring you to do something.

“What do you want?” Pietro demanded.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Steve saddling up beside you kept the words from escaping. In a flash, Pietro was gone, leaving you standing outside with a handful of terribly confused children while the doors of the orphanage swung violently, the only indication he’d ever been there.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam asked, dropping to the ground beside Steve.

“We have to be careful,” you said, cutting off Steve, “These are innocent kids. If the Maximoffs don’t attack, we shouldn’t either.”

“We have to bring them in,” Tony said resolutely.

“Why? Because the Government told us they’re a threat?” you snorted, shaking your head. “They could say we all are but the truth is, we don’t know what the hell is going on. The files didn’t tell us what they stole, only that they stole it and that no one knows what they’re doing with it. Maybe we should try asking questions before we accidentally destroy a city,” you suggested snidely.

“I agree with (Y/N),” Natasha seconded before Tony could retort, “We don’t want to start trouble.”

Steve gazed upon the building for a moment before nodding. “Agreed. (Y/N), take point. I’m trusting your judgment on this.” He looked up at Tony, then at Sam. “Stay outside and make sure they don’t try and run.”

Chewing your lip, you strolled towards the orphanage’s doors and gently opened them. Herds of children were scattered about, each one eyeing you suspiciously as you stepped inside before disappearing into various rooms. The most popular room seemed to be the one at the top of the stairs and your curiosity piqued.

You wandered upstairs and cracked the door, peering inside. In the center of the room sat a gaggle of children, their backs to you as they stared wide-eyed at the beautiful woman sitting on a chair in front of them. You couldn’t blame them from being so enraptured (you were too).

Her voice was soft and sweet as she read to them, eyes alight with joy when they laughed or exclaimed something in their native language. Her smile was so enchanting and if it wasn’t for her brother clearing his throat from the corner of the room, you probably would have stood there forever.

Your eyes snapped over to him, meeting his icy blue glare.

Wanda closed the book and said something to the children, earning disappointed groans. They all stood and filed out of the room, pushing past you with glares on their little faces. One boy said something under his breath at you and Pietro laughed riotously. Your cheeks went red despite not knowing what he said and you stepped into the room, standing before the enhanced twins.

Natasha and Steve lingered at the door, preparing for the worst should things go south.

“Wanda Maximoff, I presume,” you said casually, refusing to tremble under her rigid glare.

Wanda stood, eyes glowing red as she took you in. Your mind began to swim a little and grow hazy as she probed your brain but you remained firm, meeting her gaze head on. Red slowly crept into your line of sight, taking over everything else. It was starting to freak you out but before you could do anything, it dissolved, leaving behind nothing but a tiny headache and a sense of unease.

“And you are (Y/N) (Y/L/N), an Avenger,” she replied, tilting her head.

“I am,” you answered, glancing over your shoulder at your bewildered teammates.

“Why are you here?” she wondered, inching closer to you despite her brother’s warning growl.

You shrugged. “I think we both know why we’re here,” you said knowingly.

“You’ve come for us,” she said without hesitation, crossing her arms as she studied you. “Because of HYDRA.”

Shaking your head, you copied her stance. “No, we’re here because you’ve been stealing from major companies around Europe. You do realize that’s a crime, right?”

Wanda’s gaze narrowed. “We only take what we need, never anything more.”

“What’s so important about the things you take?” you inquired, intrigued by such a reply.

The room was silent for a moment before Wanda’s defensive posture slackened a bit. “Sokovia is not a rich country. We need things. Things they have and refuse to give us. Our people are suffering – dying – and no one cares. They cannot do anything about it, but we can. So we did.”

You froze. Everything was starting to make sense. “Oh.”

“We do not wish to hurt anyone,” she continued, “We only want to help our people.”

“You do realize it’s still a crime, though,” Steve commented as he stepped into the room. You could practically see the walls fall upon Wanda’s face and you silently cursed the hero.

“What else were we to do?” she demanded.

“I…” Steve trailed off, unable to answer what should be a simple question.

You gripped Steve’s shoulder, taking over the conversation once more. “We understand why you’ve done what you’ve done but that doesn’t make it right. You can’t just go around stealing things, even if it is for a good reason.” Wanda bristled angrily, but you carried on. “However, I think we can help each other.”

“How?” She warily watched you, her heart fluttering a little at the sight of your patient smile.

“The Avengers care about all of Earth. We don’t want to see anyone suffering. So, you come with us – maybe join the Avengers, even – and together we can help Sokovia and anyone else who needs it. You’ve both got amazing powers that we could benefit from and we’ve got resources that your people could really use right now,” you replied, offering your hand to Wanda.

“And if we say no?” Pietro butted in.

Your smile turned apologetic. “Then we keep hunting you. SHIELD isn’t going to stop until they know you aren’t a threat anymore. At least if you do it this way, you keep your freedoms and you can still help your people.”

“This feels like blackmail,” Wanda smirked, accepting your hand. She shook it firmly, eyes boring into yours. “Do you promise that you will do your best to help Sokovia?”

Nodding, you returned the gesture. “I do. I don’t want to see anything happen to Sokovia, especially if it’s preventable.”

Wanda relaxed. She heard the sincerity in your voice and saw the honesty in your eyes. You truly wanted to help; she only hoped the other Avengers were half as nice as you.

Dropping Wanda’s hand, you stepped back and nudged Steve towards the door. “You can take a few minutes to say goodbye to the kids. We’ll be outside waiting.”

You could hear Tony yelling in your ear but you ignored him. This was the safest thing to do in your opinion and it meant you’d be gaining two new Avengers whose powers would be very useful while avoiding a fight that could potentially level a city. It was a win/win, honestly. He just needed to see that and move on.

“You’d better hope Fury accepts what you’ve offered them,” Natasha murmured as you slipped past her and into the hall.

Smiling, you patted her arm. “He will.”

[worldcakecakecake]

Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I  Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45 I Chapter 46I Chapter 47 I Chapter 48 I Chapter 49 I Chapter 50 I Chapter 51 I Chapter 52 I Chapter 53 I Chapter 54 I Chapter 55 I Chapter 56 I Chapter 57 I Chapter 58 I Chapter 59 I Chapter 60I Chapter 61 I Chapter 62 I Chapter 63 I Chapter 64  I Chapter 65 I Chapter 66 I Chapter 67 I Chapter 68  I Chapter 69 I Chapter 70 I Chapter 71

                                                   Chapter 72

For that farewell and welcome, they chose one of the many entrance rooms at the very front of the castle. Here were all their bags, weapons, parchments and books of new plans, all hurdled waiting for their transfer. Those who had to leave, found it hard to depart from the arms of those they loved, kissing, and wishing words as if they were the last ones. It was highly likely and so they told everything they could.

 Alfred and Arthur settled with one another in deep comforts, the smaller close to crying, holding himself by keeping a strong grip to his husband’s cloak. Roderich and Elizabeta kept saying words of poems, tight in the gaze of their eyes, refusing to look at anything else. Renata drowned Antonio in blessings, Lovino and Augustino joining in a last family embrace.

 “I would have gone with you if I could,” Aldrich told them, his posture weakened, the wrinkles and white strands in his hair more noticeable than ever before. No one was going to permit him to go to war at the heights of age, now with loss, gone his beloved King grandson.

 “You are needed here,” Roderich told his grandfather, taking his hand in a beloved hold, Aldrich sharing in it, for once a smile, if even small, in this gloom.

 “We will send what we can from battle,” Antonio reminded.

 “We’ll be here, ready to act at the worst,” Kiku bellowed, straight and ready to command that instant. Despite his scars, the tiredness that he pushed aside and the pain in his eyes at losing his King, he was a Jack at full service and well still to rule the kingdom. Herakles stood beside him proud.

 “I grant you blessings, safety, protection and every strength the Aces can offer us now,” Aldrich wished them all in might, ever the show of a King.

 Lili sighed, whispering to Kiku, “it’s hard to believe the Aces can offer us anything.” How it hurt the Jack to see a girl usually so hopeful and believing, discard such wishes as if talking of fairy tales and legends…especially from a girl that was technically still a child.

 “If the Heart Kingdom needs defending, we’ll come back as quick as possible,” Emil promised, the first to take his bags and standing near the door.

 “May it never come to that need,” Louis kept optimism.

 After him, all began their dreaded picking, their dreaded steps with direction to head out of the castle, on to their waiting transport that would take them their separate ways to play their part in the war. Last embraces, last kisses, and waves…fearful that these were perhaps last sights. Arthur was the first to stomp inside, trembling and surely begging for loneliness, to show his emotions how he wanted by himself. This was no time for a Queen to show any kind of weakness to any kind of people. Louis did not share in that sentiment, for she wept and depended on Aldrich’s hold to stand.

 One by one, slow and agonizing, did they make their way into the castle, dreading another meeting to discuss the bloodied passing and more dead ends.

  “-Greece will refuse to send more of their people into battle, and I agree. So many must remain to guard the protection spell were planning on doing. If either Khaos or Destro comes to Hearts, the Greecians islands will be the first place they meet. We need their force there,” Kiku commanded, pointing and marking on the large map of the four kingdoms.

 “Are you sure this protection spell will work? My kingdom is depending on the very same one,” Lili still doubted.

 “It was a spell from Augusta herself. I’m sure it will buy us time,” Renata added.

 “I’m confident in it and the strength my province has,” Herakles was clear.

 “Alfred is ready to use it in his own kingdom,” Kandake informed.

 “When Khaos approaches, we will truly see then if it is worth the use in Diamonds and Hearts,” Aldrich said.

 “Re-reports of where Khaos and Destro…cur-currently stand?” Vincenzo’s voice was hoarse, the only one who kept a sitting, more heavily bandaged than any of the newcomers. Every move he made looked strained, every breath shook him with pain. Renata feared the scars she would meet under those bandages, not from their looks, but showcasing the horror her husband went through. So many thought he shouldn’t be there to gather more burden, but he insisted, wanting to keep his part somehow.

 “Destro is currently ravaging Hungary,” Renata answered, biting her lips, not wanting to tear more than she had already done.

 “While Khaos makes fast approach to the Amazon. The Spadian border is preparing for the oncoming battle,” Louis informed from letters she just finished reading.

 “More of my people are coming from hiding to help them. Others were evacuated to Hearts and Spades. Our people can no longer call Clubs home,” Kandake told with hurt.

 “Who is fighting Khaos and who Destro?” Aldrich demanded.

 “The Royal Heartian Battalion are currently trying to whether down Khaos. They also have the aid of the Arabian Soldiers of Diamonds and another special Clubian Fighter Squadron where Ivan is in,” Arthur informed, placing their symbols on the map with his fast wielding magic.

 “Another part of our army faces Destro, along with the people of the White Kingdom and the Spadian High Protection Squadron,” Kiku continued.

 “What have they been using to fight? These monsters are still standing and destroying. We must plan new tactics immediately,” Aldrich imposed.

 “We’re going through every single book that Ludwig and Feliciano got from Khaos’s library,” Lili exasperated, not liking the dictate her grandfather asked it in.

 “I believe we have to start looking at something else other than these books,” Louis felt like she was getting betrayed by them.

 “What other thing can we possibly read into to get ideas now?” Elizabeta glared.

 “Maybe this,” there was the add of a new book, dropped unto the table, seeming to glow alone on top of all the items that were there. The voice was not one that had been there with them…one that they thought they wouldn’t hear again as lively. When they raised their eyes, they didn’t think he would be standing as he did before them, dressed, cleaned, Pookie well placed on his shoulder, licking his paws as if nothing. He shone ready for what was to come as the days before the alignment.

 “Feliciano…?” Herakles was the first to say a word, like the rest, startled into a stupor.

 Renata couldn’t hold it, rushing and tumbling, the first to give him an embrace, probably his first in a long while. To the surprise of all…Feliciano smiled, his arms around her, cradling into her neck and accepting a settling.

 “You’re actually here?” Arthur was finding it hard to believe.

 “I…I think so…aren’t I…aren’t I here?” His tone was sure, with chuckles and brightness that brought ease once again after so long.

 Kiku was the next, laughing and instigating his own embrace, joyous and as the times from before. It was like they were seeing other again after years. “You are…and it has brought me more happiness than you can imagine.” To whimpers they surely would have gone, but with a silent understanding, they knew that they had done well enough of that. As the Queen and Jack, once united to their King so strongly, Kiku felt the loss almost as profound as Feliciano, and so they understood the pain the most, the perfect console in their grasps and cradle.

 “Are you sure you are well?” It made Kandake as ecstatic as the rest, but she wanted to know if his health was the right one to be able to stand so righteously as he did.

 Feliciano touched himself as if trying to find some new bruise. Upon not finding it, he gazed back sure, Kandake confident in that air of perseverance.

 “I’m…still…really sad, and I still…feel pain and it hurts me…in a way I assume none of you will know…I miss Ludwig, I miss him dearly and… I would still pay anything so he wouldn’t have given his life as he did.” There was deep mourning in his eyes, there even when he had entered the room. They were too surprised in his sudden presence to have noticed it. “But despite that…I can stand…I can move, I can act… I’m still…able to do something…” he breathed, as if once again coming to the realization that he could do all these very things. “My world is at stake…everything we know could die and I…” he gripped his hands, feeling well the jewels. “Cannot let that happen…I cannot let all those I care for and love die. I have a responsibility for my children… I have a duty as Queen… and as Augusta’s chosen…” He came close to the table, his hand reaching to read a letter from Diamonds, one of a small village heavily fearful, their concerns drowning, some accepting the outcome of death and thinking themselves forgotten by their kingdom. “I will take part. I will do what’s necessary and fight if I have to,” he declared, a proclamation well stated, and all knew they could not back him out of, no matter what concerns they still held.

 “Glad you can join us, your majesty,” Louis bowed, with a deep smile that Feliciano gave her back, despite her excessive greeting.

 Vincenzo wished he had the strength to stand and hug his son, but he settled with a smile and a grip on the table, “well, let’s get straight to work then. What have you brought us?” He pointed to the book, bringing all their attention back on it.

 “The Soul and Spirit Interludes,” Elizabeta offered to read aloud, being close, her own welcome to Feliciano but a grasp of her hand to his to show her support.

 “This is only about the afterlife,” Aldrich said.

 “How can we use it?” Lili agreed with her grandfather’s skepticism.

 “To be honest…I don’t know. I was only given a sign by Augusta herself…I haven’t sat down to read and figure it out,” Feliciano admitted shyly.

 “If Augusta told you, something indeed must be kept in it,” Kiku took it and offered his start of a read, with an introduction, explanations, and simple spells that all in this table surely knew.

 “Why are we checking for new ways and reading into books about the dead? Feliciano is awake, he has power of the alignment to go and face Khaos and Destro. We should settle off this instant,” Herakles put in, thinking it the clearest answer.

 “Feliciano was underground, protected by a Validity Sphere field…nothing from that power came to him. He well missed it,” Lili informed.

 “Are you sure, Feliciano?” Kandake wanted to make clear. Perhaps he still grasped something and maybe they couldn’t see it…maybe Feliciano could feel it…but he moved his head in a negative, assuring that no new magic had surged within him.

 “This is the power we hoped for to save us all. What else can we depend on now?” Aldrich insisted.

 “Whatever that book has,” Lovino pointed, obvious, easy and every answer at their disposal. He spared a smile at his brother, both not being able to embrace each other because of their distance.

 “I would prefer something immediate,” Aldrich, even as he gazed forward, with the ever stature of a king, there was trembling in his tone, a shining worry, all understanding that his insistence was on fearing for his people.

 “I’m afraid…” Kandake gazed over to Kiku, taking in every new word in the book, but not enlightened enough as if to shout a new idea, “…we must wait still.”

 “And what do you suppose we do in the meantime?” Arthur glared, indeed not liking how no sort of action was to take even with Feliciano awakened.

 “We read, we write, we talk, about whatever that book has. We’ll go through every detail, every idea…” Lovino explained.

 “Something…something must be in here,” Kiku said.

 “And the war?” Arthur wanted to return them to those currently in battle.

 “We keep fighting back with whatever we can,” Feliciano leaned close, now a sure add.

 “We’ve used everything. Nothing has been successful,” Aldrich exasperated.

 “No, we haven’t,” Feliciano fought back, in a defend that all were impressed by. “There is so much we believe to be useless that can be just what we need. Herakles! Are you willing to lead at our borders?” It was sudden, the imposed responsibility that shook him that moment…but quick, he stood, forward, nodded sure, ready. “By my command…the moment Destro touches Austria in Clubs…I want you to head off to the Grecians islands and help everyone not just for a protection spell, but for a Tuemia spell as well.”

 “Tuemia?” Arthur grimaced, almost disgusted.

 “Isn’t that spell just used…for fireworks?” Louis found herself confused.

 “When heightened and the force intensified, the cracks can be as deadly as our most powerful fire spell.”

 “I know the tactic. Herakles, I can teach you it myself,” Kandake offered.

 Although hesitant, his trust in them was more than his questions, so he nodded, ready to practice.

 “I want messages sent instantly to the fronts telling them to try this spell as well. I must know if there is any other reaction that can help us.” Some set off to work on the writing. “Diamonds is at risk at being attack by the Georgiatian sea. Lili, I need you to send immediate messages to guard the entire line that faces it. If they must come from battle, so be it.” She nodded and went to writing herself. “Arthur, of the Sloan cannons, begin to spread of the lesser ones around your kingdom. Where is the big Sloan currently?”

 “It’s being used against Khaos on the front in Russia.”

 “Keep it always by them then. After every Tuemia, fire a shot. Send whatever aid to keep the protection spells on the soldiers strong.” And like that commands continued, a movement in the room constant in action and working towards any kind of advance.

  Days went on of the same actions, now spread across the castle as they kept researching information in any of the libraries and studies, taking it with them even as they rested, as they chatted, as they cared for little Augustino. The Queens and the Heartian Jack took it to only study ‘The Soul and Spirit Interludes’, always huddled in a tightness that almost looked private and secretive, their chats so low as they used whatever energy to try and concentrate on the fullest.

 Feliciano’s suggestions on battle have proven to be successful enough. Khaos and Destro were still menaces rampaging and killing, but the Tuemia had managed force enough to even move them away from paths largely populated, given enough time to get the people evacuated. It was not the defeat they wanted, but as Feliciano had intended, it gave them time to huddle and give all the depth to the reading of this book.

 Arthur groaned, now angrily tapping his fingers to the table they used, “we know all this.”

 “Patience, we must keep reading, I’m sure the answer is right before us,” Kiku told as he continued his reading, only stopping to add notes in the many parchments they had.

 “The deceased enters. The first realm is a mirror lake. All resided magic must be released. This takes a period of four days by our time. Second realm is the Inhabitance. A stronger aware comes, with speech and understanding to the movement of your new spirit body. From the magic of mourning in the living, it estimates how long you remain. Some stay only a mere amount of days, others months. The third realm, although it is not a new location, it is a period of transformation into your soul, an outlook that can take the form the Aces decide. The last and fourth realm is the sea passage, a route to the heavens. Angels come and guide you to the other world of our Aces, to serve them until they send you to a new life,” Elizabeta repeated the known process of afterlife from the notes they had taken. The book did go well into detail on each realm’s structure and workings, fascination to some, to others, those who were utter experts, found it a bore and found themselves less patient.

 “We still haven’t finished it. I’m sure there has to be something in the last two chapters,” Lili reminded.

 “There has been cases of people coming back from the dead while being in the fourth realm,” Kiku said as he read one of the last paragraphs in the current chapter. It was one of the details that perked their interest, but they knew it would be useless in the war, so they continued in their indifference.

 They stood staring at a beautifully decorated seal, they guessed a representation of the door of entrance into the fourth realm. Wondered they were at the shine, that the tittle of the next chapter came like a sudden breaking.

 “Self-passage through the Soul and Spirit Interludes,” Feliciano read aloud.

 Arthur sat up, leaning with the rest, “Self-passage? …It almost sounds like a map to go.”

 “…and come back,” Elizabeta caught the words, pointing them, right in the very first page of the chapter.

 They all froze at the realization of what it could mean.

 “Is that…what Augusta is trying to tell us?” Feliciano questioned.

 “You are Augusta’s chosen, she lives within you, you should know more than we do,” Lili said.

 “She never told me anything on how I can use the Soul and Spirit Interludes.”

 “I don’t understand what could be in there that we can use,” Kiku said.

 “We are not finished yet,” Arthur interrupted, attentive now more than ever, begging in his closeness to continue.

 Indeed there were still two chapters left, and so this time they tried to hurry, difficult as this chapter gave grave details on a journey that done the wrong way could mean immediate death or even getting lost between, with no onward to the heavens or a return to their world. They wrote as serious as if they were to take that trip themselves, trembling and hesitant, hoping each new page brought something that didn’t mean submitting themselves to this.

 That last chapter gave the reasoning, the purpose.

 “The Eternal Reserve,” Lili read breathless.

 Already it promised greatness, all staring between themselves, ready for what could be the answer they were looking for.

 “As all humans and creatures go through this process, power and magic is also part of the transition,” Feliciano joined in reading aloud, the rest of the passage only mentioning a known process of when magic and power dies.

 “Some join the Aces in their heaven, some disappear from existence, and some, if even a short time, can remain in the Eternal Reserve, found between the first and the fourth realm in a unique connection,” Arthur shook along with the rest, anticipating.

 It began to list all kinds of powers that had been stored there, great ones that had them gasping and creaking. “-the Fickicious Blow and the power of the universal alignment,” Kiku read and almost fell from his chair.

 “There’s our answer right there!” Lili pointed, standing, her chair screeching in her loud proclaim.

 “Hold it! We haven’t finished reading,” Elizabeta raised a finger, commanding silence, this time putting Arthur to read since Kiku looked too taken to his thoughts to do so.

 “-all of these have been proven to be transportable. Once in the human world they regain their power in their original form.” Even so, they excited, for once a light in this long tunnel of despair appeared and they were ready to submerge no matter. “-there are even ways to heighten the power, but only the Aces, or someone of their power, can achieve that.” They all looked to Feliciano, longing and waiting for a reply from him…but he remained silent, yet with widened eyes and a shake now with worry. They returned their gaze back to Arthur for the next part of the reading, but no more came. The Spadian Queen stared extensively at the design of a jewel at the very end…hoping for any new words.

 “Is that it?” Lili tried to wake.

 “Indeed. There is really…nothing else.” To demonstrate, he shut the book, the first time done since Feliciano had presented it.

 Stillness as each was devoted to their own thoughts, their own conclusions and plans, breathing in and out as the only chorus of the room.

 Their next step was present, it was surely decided the moment the necessary lines were read. Now they were missing a declare, for someone to stand up and word out exactly the new comings. Lili was the first to not take this silence any longer, not while there was a war, with her brother still fighting. She stood, loud despite her smallness, “It’s obvious what we have to do. Someone has to go to the Interludes.”

 “A process which involves actually killing one of us in order to even start,” Elizabeta reminded.

 “The book itself mentions that it has to be dealt with extreme caution and in very specific ways. We push too much or miss a step, and we have a body in which the spirit and soul cannot return to. Then indeed it is a permanent death,” Arthur added.

 “Not only are we left with the weight of killing someone of royal importance, but losing the last chance we had to getting something to win this war,” Kiku said.

 “We have to be extremely cautious on how we do this. We can’t go headfirst and risk ourselves without a proper understanding,” Elizabeta continued.

 Lili sat back, feeling embarrassed and frustrated, a heavy sigh, gripping her hands and biting her lips, deep anguish for her family and kingdom.

 “Lili, we understand what you’re feeling right now. We all want to do something immediately. But we really can’t mess this up…not when it’s the only thing we have,” Arthur told her in the small calm and composure he could utter.

 Silence came once again, Lili this time accepting it…finding it fair to put her mind and find the proper way.

 “What should we start with?” Kiku sat straight, ready to begin this arduous planning.

 “I guess…who’s going to go…” Lili said.

 They all inhaled as if they were all placed under a sword to partake immediately.

 “…does it really have to be one of us?” Arthur groaned.

 “It is us that everyone is looking upon,” Kiku had begun to bite his nails, thinking it in the worst case of both…none of them looking well no matter who did it and how.

 Arthur sighed, “is there really nothing else we can do?”

 “What else? Besides, if we do find something different, it’ll be the same levels of dangers as this,” Lili pouted.

 “This is the only way,” Elizabeta only said what surely all knew. It was currently their only door.

 “Then…we must head…and we have to start as soon as possible,” Arthur had no choice but to agree.

 “Then, let us begin as gruesome as possible…how exactly are we going to fulfill this killing…our entrance to the Interludes and what do we do to get them back?” Kiku went straight to, “if one of us is going to risk themselves, then, at least we should know beforehand how exactly it’s going to work.”

 “What exactly did the book recommend?” Arthur took it, looking through the pages.

 “…drowning…” Feliciano uttered, low and shinning with the most dread in his expression.

 “…along with a suspension freeze spell. The body must remain in the water for the entire process,” Lili added, knowing Feliciano must still be in the deep shock to give more words.

 “Those who stay must remain watchful of the body and make a mourning for once they reach the second realm. The longest we can let the person stay is a month,” Kiku continued.

 “I’m going to assume it’s just enough time to get this thing in the interludes,” Arthur said.

 “How exactly do we even find it there?” Elizabeta got the book this time, wanting specifications.

 “Found between the first and the fourth realm in a unique connection,” Kiku repeated the words, “nothing else is mentioned.”

 “So, whoever goes has to find this on their own once there?” Lili trembled.

 “Precisely,” Elizabeta assured, finding nothing else in the book. It made the mission harder, more prominent in its danger.

 “And…let’s say that whoever goes, finds it. How will we know that? When will it be safe for us to revive the body?...How do we even do it?” Arthur asked.

 “The notes here say that the person is able to bring themselves back if they find what they need,” Lili rummaged through the papers.

 “The month limit is for if it takes too long and we don’t want to risk them truly dying,” Elizabeta said.

 “And for that we just stop the suspension freeze and bring them out of the water,” Lili continued.

 “Where are we going to keep them? How will we deal having one of us missing?” Kiku worried.

 “There’s many baths in this castle. I’m sure any will be sufficient,” Lili said.

 “There’s more than us working on the war this instant while we discuss. If one of us is gone, it will be a chance to save the four kingdoms. They will understand,” Elizabeta said.

 “But we have to keep watch on the body,” Lili reminded.

 “And we can do that while also working on the efforts of the war,” Elizabeta was sure.

 “Then…once again…whose going?” Kiku brought them back to their first point.

 And they were back in silence, in wondering, in biting their lips, searching for the push, that bravery that could raise their hands in the acceptance of such a faith. Minutes went on, lost in nothing, hesitant, still questioning its true eligibility, but it was the only one, it was the only answer, and it annoyed Feliciano greatly that they were debating to do the only thing left. He stood, not taking it, this his form of explosion, if even surprisingly calm for him, “when can we start?”

 “Once we know who-”

 “I’m going,” fierce and powerful, a demand that had all in the table meeting their gaze to him in shock and question. “So… when can we start?”

[takemedancingmaine]

40

I gather my BlackBerry, massive padfolio, and a bottle of water from my desk.

“Good to see you're feeling better,” James says as he holds the conference room door open for me and Philip. We both slip inside and as I take my seat I blush.

“Just glad to be well enough to work,” I say. It's the truth. When I looked at my BlackBerry last night on the train home from Jack’s I was unsurprised to see how much I'd missed in just a day of being gone.

I am glad to be back though because it means I am well enough to be here doing something that gives me a sense of purpose, something that drives me forward. I'm already working on pitching a story idea, centric to the shambles regarding Brexit.

We all know how awful it is economically and politically for Britain at the moment, with no one knowing how to handle it. My story would be about the nonexistent plans and promises of grandeur that caused the vote to swing toward it in the first place.

Did those who wanted to leave the EU have a game plan or were they just throwing out ideas? To me, and to a lot of people, it seems to be the second: haphazard ideas and sloppy plans with how to separate ourselves that we're now being forced to struggle with. It honestly seemed like even they thought that they would lose the vote so why even bother with proper planning.

Those leading the charge to exit need to be held accountable for the turmoil our country is currently facing.

I don't know if I should pitch it today though, I'm thinking the outline and my own game plan need to be sketched out further and more completely before I bring it to James or Seamus.

Philip launches into a story about school children all around the country and how it's looking like school boards locally and nationally are looking into better, more nutritious school lunches after a mishap at some food processing and distribution centre.

This not only calls to question the low current standards but it also forces the hand of the public to recognize that either the lunches get more expensive or school taxes will increase.

I take notes just so I'm informed if I'm asked to join on a project, but I'm feeling the exhaustion in my bones from my weekend. My brain is starting to fire at a more normal pace now and I'm not so tired mentally, not really at least, but my body feels overrun with exhaustion only two hours into the day.

After the rundown meeting, I set my sights on my story, researching, reaching out to sources, and endlessly reading. I've got two on the opposing side of Brexit and one with another in the works on the side for.

It's after I help Philip film an interview that will be aired tonight that I breach the topic with him.

He's sorting through his notes and compiling his things to head to the video room to start editing and rendering the clip when I stop him.

“Philip, can I run a story by you really quickly?” I ask, my voice quiet. I think that's what makes him look at me curiously. I haven't been that quiet around him since I started.

“What’ve you got?” He asks, leaning against the anchor desk as he looks me up and down, almost as if he’s trying to figure it out before I tell him.

“Brexit,” I say and I know immediately by the look in his eyes, the change in his posture that he's not on board.

Before he can open his mouth to say as much I cut him off. “I know it's been covered for over a year now, but I think there's an angle I can work.”

He gestures for me to keep going, but he still looks sceptical. I bite my lip, take a deep breath, and then launch into my pitch for it, all the research I’d done, and the sources I'd already gotten that were willing to discuss both on and off the record.

By the time I'm finished Philip doesn't look as sceptical, but he doesn't look excited either. I don't know what he's thinking until he opens his mouth.

“You're doing good work,” he tells me. “But I want you to dig deeper. What you've got is great, really. I just think you've got more there that you can really get into. Once you've dug deeper, bring it back to me and we can run it by James and Seamus.”

My heart stops and then picks up speed. He's going to let me keep going with this. This is massive.

I've done segment pieces before and helped produce interviews and smaller things, but this would be a whole show dedicated to my story if it's up to scruff. It frightens me and excites me at the same time.

I can feel myself locking up, all the nerves just firing in my body all at once, unsure of what to do. But then Philip gives me an expectant look with those dark green eyes he has and I shake myself.

“Oh my god,” I tell him, my own eyes wide as he gives me a small smile. “Thank you! I just… thank you.” I turn to leave, realize I've forgotten everything on the desk, and then turn back in a series of very disjointed movements.

Philip is smirking at me, waiting for me to leave before he goes to the editing room. Probably expecting me to pass out or something equally as ridiculous.

“Wren?” He asks when I’ve almost made it to the door. I turn to see him still leaning on the desk.

“Yes?”

“Your phone?”

I look down at my hands. There's no phone. I left my phone. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before walking all the way back.

“Take your time with this, Wren,” he says now that I'm beside him again. “You're bright and driven. Just take some time, make this as good as it can be. And if you need help, ask.”

“Thank you,” I say again, my cheeks flushing with colour before I grab my phone and scuttle off.

I really appreciate Philip. As the senior producer it's his job to help us, I know that, but his patience is second to none. He has a short fuse when it comes to ignorance or lack of trying. He loathes complacency and apathy, but he's always here trying to help us, the associate producers.

I think it's because he's young. He’s twenty-nine and was embedded in Afghanistan for three years. He literally had a trial by fire when he was offered the job to go over. Most twenty-four-year-olds would baulk and take the safer route, but Philip trusted James.

The two of them as a team have an enviable partnership and work chemistry that makes our newsroom flow with almost unprecedented efficiency.

I never knew I wanted to be in broadcast media, I always thought I was more efficient in print, but it turns out my background in print makes it easy for me to write copy for the show.

I never expected to be in broadcast, but now that I'm here, disseminating news to more than I could ever have imagined in such an efficient environment I can't look back on any other path for myself. I mean, this has opened so much up for me career-wise and personally, I've learned so much about myself.

So with Philip’s blessing, I get back to work once I'm at my desk.

“Hey, Liz?” I look up and across the mini barrier of our desk clump.

She nods and lets me know she's heard me. I wait until she looks up before I breach the subject.

“Your sister-in-law works in the Conservative party as a strategist, right?”

She nods. “She does.”

“I'm working on digging deeper into Brexit and I want to really dissect the planning and strategies and not just comment on the obvious. Do you think she'd be willing to talk to me about the 12-point plan?”

“If you put it to her like that, she might be,” Liz tells me. “I can give you her information and you can reach out to try. I won't guarantee anything though.”

“Thank you so much,” I give her an appreciative smile. “I promise I'm not trying to make her look like a monster. I just want to really cover the story wholly and get all sides instead of just having people shouting at each other as they do on other networks.”

“That's not going to be easy, but I do hope it works out,” she gives me a smile before a news alert beeps onto all of our computers and she turns to read it.

Her scepticism about the ability to pull it off is warranted. I'm about to start watching news clips of Brexit coverage so far when Liz slips a piece of paper onto my desk with her sister-in-law’s information scribbled onto it.

I give her a smile back before turning towards my monitor where I'm sure my brain will melt with misinformation and combust with the arrogance that will be showcased.

41

“You are unbelievable you know that, right?”

“And you are being dramatic,” I roll my eyes and pick up my drink.

“I think I have a right,” he says and flicks my knee as I sit on his countertop and decompress after a week of long nights at work.

I sip the beer in my hand and look over at him. He's cutting little tomatoes in half and drinking beer while we listen to a Simon & Garfunkel song.

He doesn't look up at me, but I know that he can feel my gaze on him, so I bring my beer back up and slurp my next sip. He cringes, slams the knife down on the counter and points at me, eyes narrowed.

“You are the fucking worst.”

I let out a laugh and bite my bottom lip to keep my smile from spreading too large.

“What happens if Charlie wakes up?” he glares before turning back to the tomatoes. “Think of that? Having to explain a boyfriend to your nephew might be awkward.”

“He's the heaviest sleeper this world has ever seen,” I shake my head. “He's not woken up at night since he was a baby.”

My brother just continues with the knife, dicing up a red pepper. His jaw is set tight, no give or leeway in his facial expression.

“C’mon, Liam,” I lean over, my face closer to his. “You know you're secretly rejoicing that you get to torment him.”

Liam scoffs and takes a swig of beer. “I'd feel better if I'd run a background check first,” he mumbles.

I laugh at my pouting big brother.

“Li,” I put a hand on his shoulder as I gesture vaguely with my other hand, the beer sloshing a bit in the bottle as I do so. “You're very intimidating. You don't need a background check to bolster your plan of attack.”

“It would've helped,” he shoots me a look, but there's a lot less force behind this one than his earlier ones. I drop my hand from his shoulder and poke his nose before letting it fall to my side. “You couldn't invite Piper to break the tension a bit?”

“I did.”

“Did she bail just to torture me?” He asks, false despair seeping into his tone. My older brother is a child.

“Of course,” I nod. “You know her. Demented as she is,” I roll my eyes before moving my left leg sideways to kick his hip. “No. She had an event at the gallery and has to be there late.”

“Ouch,” he complains. “And is there anything of hers up? Should we have gone as support?” He asks.

“Do you think if my best friend had artwork up at a gallery event that I'd be here?” I ask rhetorically.

He answers anyway. Of course.

“Of course you’d be here,” he scoffs. “You'd be watching Charlie while I attend the event,” he grins.

I pick up a piece of chopped pepper and throw it at his face. “Get an au pair, you miserable muppet!”

“I don't want Charlie to think it's a new mum or something,” he lifts both hands in exasperation, done with my bringing this up.

“One: they have male au pairs,” I sip my beer, realizing I'm already almost done with it. “Two: he's six, Liam. He understands more than you think he does.”

“Having a guy in the house would be weird,” he makes a face. “And also, I don't care,” he adds as a response to my second point. That's that apparently.

I raise my eyebrows at his attitude. I pause and as he starts gathering the rest of the ingredients I listen to the new song.

“Were you on drugs when you made this playlist?”

Liam groans. He closes his eyes and stops in place and groans again.

I smirk. I'm always teasing him for his music choices. I knew it would be enough to get his mind off the touchy subject.

“Seriously, we’ve gone from Simon and Garfunkel to Yellowcard, to I'm sorry was that Genesis?, and now we’re on Khalid.”

He opens his eyes and then his mouth to protest and I cut him off. “There wasn't even a theme to the songs, either. It’s like musical whiplash, but in an uncomfortable way and not a cool oh-my-god-this-actually-works kind of way. More in an oh-my-god-my-ears-are-bleeding kind of way.”

Liam picks up the piece of pepper from the floor and throws it back at my face. I don't dodge it in time. It bounces off my cheek.

“You cock,” I flip him off.

“You started it, you little fuck,” he points out as I pick the offending piece of vegetable off the counter and throw it into the sink with the garbage disposal.

We’re in comfortable silence for a minute, only a minute, before he breaks it, unable to restrain his mouth, hold back his curiosity.

“So how did you two meet? You've never even told me that,” he asks.

“Liam,” I close my eyes and lean my head back against the cupboards. “You will get your fill of questions answered if you just-” the sound of knocking interrupts me.

Before I can move, Liam laughs. “Well, he has good timing at least,” in reference to what I was saying when Jack knocked. “Thanks for getting him to knock, by the way. The bell’d definitely have woken Charlie.”

“Despite your belief, brothermine, I'm not a numpty,” I complain. “I'll be right back,” I slip down off the counter and pad barefoot toward Liam's foyer.

“Could've fooled me!” He calls out.

The lights are dimmed in the front of the house as usual and when I reach the door I peek behind me, he's not hovering over my shoulder. When I hear him clanging through a kitchen drawer I open the front door and I'm greeted by Jack.

He looks tense. I can tell by his shoulders and eyes, but his eyes when he sees my face shift a bit and some of the tension releases. I step back a bit and allow him to enter.

“Hi,” I give him a smile.

“Hi,” he attempts a grin. I try not to laugh at him. I can hear the kitchen sink running and so quickly I step forward and reach up to my tiptoes and give him a quick kiss. He does react, he does manage to kiss me back for a moment before pulling back and looking over my shoulder to make sure Liam isn't there glaring him down.

He's not.

“C’mon then, laddie, let’s do this,” I grab his hand and wait while he kicks his shoes off at the front door and then guide him back through the house to the kitchen.

I can tell that Jack is a bit in awe of the house, but he doesn't say anything as he passes through the hallway, glancing into the living room and then into the kitchen,

“Will you have a beer?” I ask as we step over the threshold. I let go of his hand and he nods.

“Please,” he nods and I watch as his eyes dart from me to Liam who’s just looked up from the counter in front of him.

As I pull a beer from the fridge and open it I try to judge Liam's initial reaction.

I've grown up with my brother my whole life. I've been able to push his buttons and read him better than anyone in this world, aside from his late wife. I've never had a problem knowing his thoughts, even after he'd been taught how to rein them in. It's a constant source of annoyance it is for him to have me always knowing what's going on in his mind, unable to hide anything from me.

Now though, I have no idea what he's thinking and that's odd and foreign for me, so I step back up to Jack, his beer in my hand before I turn to Liam and will him to look at me. When he finally does he's still blank and I still can't tell what he's thinking.

I squirm on the spot but train my brown eyes on my brothers, on eyes that mirror mine, and take a deep breath.

“Liam, this is Jack,” I say as if neither of them has already met the other. “And Jack,” I glance up quickly to see the tension has returned to his blue eyes, “this is my older brother Liam.”

Jack, for his part, steps forward a bit and extends his hand toward my brother. “Good to see you, Liam,” he says, not ignoring the fact that they know one another.

Liam shakes himself of whatever had come over him when he realized who was standing in his kitchen and, after wiping his hands on a dish towel, extends one hand out, grasping Jack’s in a handshake.

“It's all making sense now,” Liam nods in return. His voice isn't unfriendly but I watch as he scans Jack up and down in a way I'm sure he's never done before during any of their other meetings. “Wren,” my brother opens his mouth to speak again and I know that tone.

“Hmm?” I hum.

“Would you mind grabbing the cheese from the fridge while you're over by it?”

I would give a million pounds to know what my brother is thinking at this exact moment.

“Sure,” I nod and hand Jack his beer before I pop open the fridge and grab the cheese for the pizza. Once I'm beside Liam I look over at Jack who's still tense but thankfully doesn't look like he's going to bolt.

I watch as he meets my gaze before taking a sip of his beer. I knock my hip into Liam.

“So you met at school then, yeah?” Liam's eyes are on me as he finishes putting the sauce on the pizza. He's going back to the question he asked me just before Jack arrived.

“Brilliant deduction there, Sherlock,” I mock. I sneak a glance at Jack and although his shoulders are still tight he's hiding a smirk with the bottle in his hand.

“Every day you test me more and more,” Liam sighs as he picks up the spinach and starts spreading it over the pizzas that are starting to look like pizzas, finally. His eyes are a mixture of humour and annoyance.

“And every day you get further and further away from the Neanderthal you were before I was born,” I pat his shoulder. “You're welcome.”

“I was three when you were born,” he rolls his eyes.

“That's no excuse,” I fake a sigh. “You are so lucky to have me,” I shrug and then move to grab my beer. When I realize there’s only a sip left I place it down beside Liam, who quickly drains it as I grab a new one for each of us.

Liam knows I have this quirk where I never drink the last sip of beer from a bottle. From a glass, sure. From a bottle? No, thank you. He's used to finishing off my beers.

This time I stop beside Jack on the opposite of the island from Liam. I slide my brother's beer across to him.

“So,” Liam hedges, “Jack.”

“Hmm?” Jack hums as he looks up from his hands to my brother.

“Tell me a bit about yourself,” Liam’s trying to be casual. I know what he's going for though, trying to open Pandora's box. A lawyer tactic is to have your witness just talk and talk until they admit something they didn't intend to.

He's trying to get a reason to make him squirm. He's going to have a hard time though. He knows that Jack has been good with me, with my mental health, but he also knows that his own son often sings his teacher’s praises.

“What would you like to know?” Jack counters.

Liam glances up from the food and his eyes flick from me to Jack and then back to me. He's more than upset I didn't tell him. I also know he doesn't like that his witness just asked him a question. That's not how it works.

“Well, I already know you're a primary school teacher,” Liam shrugs. “But what else should I know about you now that you're dating my sister and not just teaching my son?”

I want to bite my tongue, believe me, I want to. However, since last weekend I've been getting stronger emotionally, back to normal pretty much, and after the numbness I experienced I was kind of edgy and raring to get into it with my brother, or anyone in general.

“Don't mind his vagueness,” I place a hand on Jack’s shoulder and throw an over the top smile my brother’s way. “He's just upset he's been kept out of the loop so he's trying to play lawyer mind games with you.”

Liam flips me the off and Jack actually lets out a small laugh at that.

“No, no,” Jack shakes his head at me and gives Liam a look that conveys understanding. “I play the same mind games when I'm out with Lily and her boyfriend Sam.”

“You have a sister?” Liam asks, some of his rigidity leaving subconsciously.

“I do,” Jack nods. “She's three years older than I am,” he adds. “And she decided the best time for me to meet her new beau would be my birthday dinner last month.”

Liam glances at me with an all too knowing look in his eye.

“It's like they think we’ll enjoy the meeting, either of us,” Liam shakes his head.

“Oi,” I look between them. “Don't even act like you haven't been asking me about Jack from the moment you coaxed it out of me that I was seeing someone.” I turn on Jack as Liam glares at me for being right. “And I know for a fact that you would rather meet anyone in Lily’s life than be left in the dark.”

“It doesn't mean I wanted that meeting to be on my birthday, love,” he gives me a smirk.

I roll my eyes. “You're both ridiculous,” I shake my head and Jack bites his tongue as he smirks at me. Liam has raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You get what you want, sorry it's not perfect.”

“It's two against one at the moment,” Liam points out. He raises his beer and extends it to Jack, who gives me a well-he’s-not-wrong look and he lifts his own beer and the two of them cheers.

42

After that initial bit of awkwardness, Liam and Jack actually ease into a pretty smooth flowing conversation.

The three of us talked uni courses, football, best and worst pubs in certain areas of London, and more. My brother and boyfriend-would I call Jack my boyfriend?-are actually getting along. I know I shouldn't be surprised. They're both reasonable people.

However, I spent my time being surprised by it, by them and just trying to engage with the conversations they were shifting between. It feels good. Liam's still mad at me, I can tell, but he's honestly eased his entire demeanour around Jack and I don't think he did it purposefully. I think he and Jack just get along

We’re sitting down at the table eating the pizza, each of us on our second or third beer when Liam gives me a look.

“So wait, at the school carnival…” he pauses as he looks pointedly between me and Jack who are sat across the table from him. “You two were seeing each other then?”

“Yep,” I nod as beside me, Jack shrugs and goes, “Aye.”

“And that was the night I interrupted,” Liam sorts through the timeline a bit more in his head. I can see the concentration on his face as he tries to sort through everything.

“Mhm,” I hum.

Liam gives me a look. “Sorry about that,” he says to Jack as I reach for another slice of pizza. Liam and I make really good pizza. Liam rolls his eyes at me before looking back at Jack.

“Nah, mate,” Jack shakes his head. “Family things happen. No need to apologize.”

Liam makes a face but doesn't say anything.

“Have you invited everyone to Friendsgiving yet?” I ask Liam now.

“Well you know that Piper is charged with sous chef duty and you're my cleaning crew, so I guess you both can come if you'd like…” his smirk turns to a laugh when I throw my napkin at his face. “And I talked to Graham, Ed and Mike, they're all coming with their partners. What about Molly and Bernie?”

“Bernie is visiting her mother, who just moved to Crete, that weekend, but Molly will be here,” I smile.

I'm so excited to see his friends from Uni. They were there for my first year and I absolutely love them. They're like additional big brothers but goofier and also give me stories of my idiot actual brother.

“Is she still with that girl…” he trails off.

“Which one?” I ask. “The one who kicked your ass or the American one?”

Liam glowers at me and I giggle.

“The first one,” he tells me, his voice low.

“Nah,” I shake my head and pick up my pizza slice. “They broke it off maybe six months ago. She's with a baker, now.”

“Wait, I'm sorry,” Jack interrupts. “Did I miss something? The one who kicked your ass?”

I laugh.

Liam glares at me again.

“Last year, my uni roommate Molly’s date kicked Liam’s ass at literally any competition he could think of. Chess, FIFA, press ups, holding their breath, literally kicking his butt when they wrestled.”

“God, I hate you,” Liam groans.

“D'you think Lily and Sam would like to join?” I ask Jack.

“I can ask,” he nods. “I'm pretty sure they'd love to, though.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

Liam nods. “Yeah, we’d love to have them,” he says.

I almost do a spit take with my beer. Liam and Jack must've really gotten on as we ate. Liam is starting to throw me off a bit with his responses.

“Do we need to bring anything?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “So the first time we did it I researched what Americans eat on Thanksgiving and we always eat traditional food. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie-”

“What the hell is green bean casserole?” Jack cuts me off.

“It's better to just eat it and then ask instead of the other way round,” Liam advises.

Jack still looks confused, but he nods anyway. “Will I even know what to make if I'm tasked to bring something?”

“I've already got you down for something,” I tell him.

“What's that?” He asks with concern and curiosity flitting across his face.

“Apple crumble,” I smirk.

“I think I can handle that,” he laughs to himself.

“Wait…” Liam glances between the two of us. “Those apple scones we had. Did you make those?” He looks at Jack.

“No. Your sister did.”

“But he did make those apple muffins,” I add.

“Mate,” Liam looks at Jack. “Those were so good. D’you bake often?”

“When I have the time,” Jack nods. “I find it relaxing.”

“I mean I read to relax, but whatever works for you, mate,” Liam chuckles.

“Shit,” I whisper when over Liam’s shoulder I see the clock that's telling me it's half one in the morning. “Liam, how dare you let me stay up this late!”

“How the bloody hell is it my fault?” He reacts with indignation.

“It just is,” I groan and slump my head down onto the table.

“You're so dramatic,” Liam chuckles. “D’you need me to drive you home, then?”

“I think I can handle that task,” Jack says from beside me.

I lift my head and smirk at Liam. He's glaring at me some more. I know exactly why, too. He wanted to drive me so that he could talk to me, maybe also be a bit cross with me and it would be more than just taking.

“Let me just go grab my things then,” I slump away from the table, leaving Liam and Jack, to go grab my things from upstairs where I stashed them when I'd said goodnight to Charlie.

By the time I come back downstairs wrapped up in my coat and pulling a hat on, Liam and Jack are in the foyer where Jack is slipping his jacket back on, laughing at something Liam has said.

I just quietly watch for a moment before either of them realizes I'm there. I don't know how they've not realised I'm here, the stairs are in clear view to the second floor. There's no hiding, but whatever.

They seem much calmer than they were before, no anxiety and nervous glances in my direction, no tapping of fingers anxiously on beer bottles, nothing out of the ordinary. If I didn't know any better, the scene I just walked into could be Liam and one of his mates from uni.

“Ready?” Jack turns to me once I'm beside him.

“I am,” I nod. He gives me a smile and I melt into his blue eyes, the comfort of them slipping around me like a weighted blanket. The sense of calm that envelops me is surreal.

“Night, Liam,” I turn to him and wrap my arms around him as he pulls me close as well. My older brother was waiting for his goodnight.

Sometimes I think his longer hugs are because he genuinely just wants to feel human contact with someone other than his six-year-old. Other times I think his hugs are a result of just feeling alone and overwhelmed. Holding another body close serving as his reminder that he's not alone and that we’d be there for him if he ever was feeling overwhelmed.

“Love you, Wren,” he whispers to me. “I'll see you Sunday, right?” He asks.

“You will,” I nod against him. As I pull away I run a hand through my hair. “And I love you too, Liam.”

He gives me a smile and then he and Jack shake hands before Jack and I are out the door and getting into Jack’s car.

[themostcleverandwittyname]

Curiosity Saved the Cat

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(Jumin x MC)(Saeran x MC)

Summary:

MC is fairly happy after Jumin proposes to her, however, her curiosity leads her to contact the hacker that started it all.

Chapter 8: Sitting Duck

Chapter 8 on AO3

Meditation was not something Myung had much time for in the fray of everyday life. She was always putting it off to do finish work or make a phone call. This was the first time in months that she had found time to sit down and breathe and she would have considered it a personal victory if she was not sitting on a cot in a dark, damp dungeon.

All concept of time had been lost in the silence of the night hours and the coolness of early morning. The sleep deprivation weighed heavy on Myungs shoulders and mind like a fog. She was determined not to be a sitting duck and get caught off guard in her sleep so staying up was the only solution. She had felt regret and anger when she had first woken in the cell hours ago, but now she was only feeling hot dread in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was because of the trauma her body has gone through, the lack of food, or just the lack of sleep but her hands had began to shake and her concentration on meditating began to waver.

She was as on edge and as uncomfortable as she had ever been in her life and she felt as though the darkness of the prison was plotting against her. The cot was cold and if she had managed to sleep, she would have been cold all through the night due to the lack of blankets. She wondered how long they would keep her in this place. Would she ever see the rest of the building? Would they feed her or let her starve? No, they would most likely hold food over her head as a way to control her. Whoever they are. She didn’t know if the “Savior” herself would come down here and antagonize her or if she’d ever see the blonde again. Her meditation was ruined when her mind drifted to Rika, her fist clenched and her thoughts turned sour. She wanted to get out of this place if just only to tell the others. She knew it would be horrible news but she need to let them know.

Yoosung would no doubt he heartbroken and maybe even in disbelief. Zen, if Myung could correctly assume, would choose to keep neutral and try to calm everyone down. Jumin...she didn’t want to think about it. If Rika was telling the truth about Jihyun, then Jumin would be extremely upset. She felt her heart sink at the thought. She didn’t want to believe that anyone in the RFA was a bad person. Even in the midst of chaos they had been warm hearted to her and welcoming. They had no reason to trust her and yet they had given her the benefit of the doubt. She had believed that if she solved the mystery of the hacker and tried to quench her suspicions, that maybe it would equal the amount of kindness that they had shown her. It wasn’t as if she had to, but she felt like it would help them to know. Now she’s never been so unsure.

Footsteps echoed around the chamber and immediately alerted Myung. Was it the hacker here again to taunt her? Or was it the people that she had been warned about? She felt dread immediately and attempted to be prepared in some way by getting to her feet. The large iron doors swung open with a groan and Myung watched as two cloaked figures started down the corridor towards her cell. The one who led the other had their face down so that the faint light wouldn’t reveal their face and they held a set of glimmering keys on a tarnished keyring. The one behind held a leather briefcase and it swayed back and forth menacingly. The dark leather of the case was stark contrast against the white of the cotton robes which only succeeded in make it appear more ominous to the brunette. When the two strangers came to a stop in front of the door of her cell, Myung began to consider the possibility of dashing out and running to freedom. She knew knew it was a long shot and if this was a common thing at this place, the two may expect that kind of retaliation. Nonetheless, she tried to come up with some kind of strategy. She didn’t want to become a sitting duck and allow the worst to come to her without doing anything about it

Before she came up with a proper plan, the two had already unlocked the cell and slammed it shut before she could so much as move. They must have seen it coming. She held her breath as the second one set the case on the cot beside her, the face of its carrier was revealed for a moment in the movement. She was a young lady that looked to be the same age as Myung and her skin was fair. She just had plain black hair cropped short that swayed under the hood as she opened the case. Foam insulated the plethora of syringes, bottles of pills, and showcased one bottle of blue liquid in the center. The lady pulled out one of the pill bottles and turned to Myung, straightening her posture. The person behind her stood and tapped his foot impatiently, grumbling under his breath about something. Only part of it could be made out.

“...shouldn’t have brought the newbie. What was I thinking?” his disapproving grumble had not escaped the girl’s ears and a slight frown shown on her face as she pulled a bottle of water from the roomy pocket in her robe. She gingerly pulled the hood from her head and nodded her bangs into place. The girl took a deep breath and directed her voice towards Myung, who was standing in the corner like a deer caught in headlights.

“You’re new here too so this is going to be difficult for you. I’ll let you choose ‘cause it’s your first time. Would you like to take the pills or would you prefer the elixir?” The girl then pointed at the blue liquid in the case. She was nervous and it could be heard in her voice despite her cheery tone. The man behind her let out a huffy breath and snatched the pills from the girl’s hands.

“Why does it matter? Let’s just get it done already. I can’t believe I’m going to miss the speech because some newbie wants to play nice.” The man growled, clearly upset by the sound of his voice. Myung still couldn’t see his shrouded face. The girl looked away making a face like she had been kicked in the side. The brunette spoke out in a burst of expected panic, not a scream but her tone was elevated.

“What is that? I’m not taking that!” Myung blurted, feeling the eyes of the two strangers snap to her. The man tilted his face up to peer out from underneath the hood. He had salt and pepper hair and a permanent frown of a face. Before the man could say anything, the short haired girl took the floor.

“It’s the medicine of salvation! What do you mean you’re not taking it? You’ll be soooo thankful that you did. Here, take this.” She beamed and tried to hand the water to Myung, who stared in disbelief. The brunette tried to reason with the scenarios that were playing through her head. Take the water and the pill? Refuse it only to be forced to take it and possibly stabbed with a syringe? Take the water and pretend to swallow the pill? Yes, that's it.

Myung hesitantly reached out for the bottle and the girl placed it into her hand. The man groaned to himself and opened the pill bottle, shaking a pair of pills into his palms. The girl grossed her arms and turned to the man with a big grin on her face.

“See? I told you I could get her to take it without forcing her? You just have to be nice.” The girl directed at the man in a matter of factly way. Myung held out her hands for the pills and the man plopped them into her hand without even looking. This is perfect. She can “take” the pills while the two are chatting with each other and spit them out when they leave.

“Most of the time, newcomers don’t just take these because they don’t know. Out there, there’s lots of medicines that can hurt people so they’re usually cautious about salvation here.” He said in a bored tone as if he has said that same sentence a million times. “So you have to force them. You’re being nice enough by just giving it to her.” He stated like fact.

Myung examined the pills, noticing that they didn’t have a smooth casing around them as most pills do. These will dissolve in her mouth so she’ll have to be careful. She nonchalantly popped them into her mouth and quickly pushed them to the sides of her mouth. She opened the bottle of water and downed a big gulp to further sell that she was “taking” the pills. She did her best to hold the two pills steady as she swallowed the water. They were already beginning to dissolve in her cheeks, the incredibly bitter taste seeped onto her tongue. She managed to keep a straight face.

The girl seemed to buy it and began to pack up the briefcase, taking the bottle from the man’s hand. He had tilted his head up to watch Myung, his eyes narrowed.

“Well, that’s it. Thanks for being such a good sport. It’ll take fifteen to twenty minutes before you start to feel the effects of Paradise, so hand tight. We’ll be back this afternoon to give you your second dose.” She beamed and put her hood back on, ready to leave. The man didn’t move, but instead watched Myung intently. He was waiting for her to crack, waiting for her to make a face, to give a sign. The brunette managed to keep her poker face a meet the man’s glower. He smiled for a moment, a bitter smile of knowing.

“So, newcomer? How did those pills taste? Sweet or bitter, hmm?” he asked, his gaze never wavered. Myung gave a shrug as her answer, trying to avoid opening her mouth. He was onto her and he had played this game before. There was a long period of silence and the girl stopped in her tracks, giving a questioning glance over her shoulder at the man’s words

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you answering?” He gave a coy smile before stepping closer to the brunette. Before she could react, he had already grabbed her jaw with a painful grip, his nails dug into her skin. He pried mouth open to reveal the two pills and didn't hesitate to shove his fingers into her mouth and poke the pills down her throat. He didn't do any more than that and let go of her has as quickly as he had grabbed it. He quickly strode off and out of the cell as Myung hacked and coughed at the dry pills that scratched down her throat. Her eyes began to water and she rubbed the soreness from her cheeks.

The short haired girl was shocked and said nothing as she followed the man out of the cell. She gave an apologetic glance at Myung as they both watched the man lock the door.

“I don't have time for this.” He grumbled and strode hastily away, the girl following him close behind. Myung listened as the iron doors closed with a resounding final click, as if sealing her fate.

She tried to take get mind off the bitter taste of the “medicine” as she sat on the uncomfortable cot. She had no choice but to sit and wait for the pills to take effect.

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