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ancestorsofjudah · 7 months

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2 Kings 25: 13-15. "The Bronze Pillar."

We are discussing the healthy integration of the Church and the State using Constitution. Constitution embodies the desire of the human being to be indentured into the cause of his own freedom and independence at no additional expense to him. All he has to do is reside and be permitted to work in his jurisdiction of choice.

This next comment will not make me more popular, but it certainly can't make me less, but even still it is the Government that has standing in the affairs of all, including the hurch, and not the other way around.

The Church is too subjective, too ethereal in its arguments for the existence of the Unseen and its Will to Power over this world, and this is not what we need or have come to find useful.

Therefore constituted governments in the name of social order guarantee the right to a church education, but cannot mandate it nor ever be subject to the whims of the Church. So the Babylonians, fans of Constitution come and lay siege to Israel and Judah and force them to play by rules that have no potential to become random or assume positions contrary to others. All positions must favor the welfare of the people, all of the people, all of the time, and that is that.

This idea of a mixed majority is also not always popular but societies that are not self-conscious about their human rights legislation do just fine.

The following passages discuss which aspects of the Temple are actually managed by the State and not indirectly so that the value of the human being is not undersold by any means:

13 The Babylonians broke up the bronze pillars, the movable stands and the bronze Sea that were at the temple of the Lord and they carried the bronze to Babylon.

14 They also took away the pots, shovels, wick trimmers, dishes and all the bronze articles used in the temple service.

15 The commander of the imperial guard took away the censers and sprinkling bowls—all that were made of pure gold or silver.

Bronze tools are mentioned early in the Torah in Bereshit:

17 Cain made love to his wife, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Enoch “disciplined, well trained” . Cain was then building a city, and he named it after his son Enoch.

18 To Enoch was born Irad “city of fugitives from ignorance” , and Irad was the father of Mehujael “destroyed by God”, and Mehujael was the father of Methushael, “man of God” and Methushael was the father of Lamech “strong man for humiliation”.

19 Lamech married two women, one named Adah “ornament” and the other Zillah “shadow”.

20 Adah gave birth to Jabal “to follow a course” ; he was the father of those who live in tents and raise livestock.

21 His brother’s name was Jubal “flow maker”; he was the father of all who play stringed instruments and pipes.

22 Zillah also had a son, Tubal-Cain , who forged all kinds of tools out of[u] bronze “intelligence, insightful” and iron. Tubal-Cain’s “leader of the world’s economy” sister was Naamah. “sweet, pleasant.”

Ignorance is destroyed by God through the meeting of the human mind with a fine education. A fine education is mandated by the government, but as to how it suits God's purposes and why we should invest in it is explained in the Torah.

Pillars made of bronze are full sized circumcised male penises that have been led to Sinai by the Rab and there burnt in front of the Burning Bush during a kind of sacred weenie roast. From Korach:

Korah, Dathan and Abiram

16 Korah son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi, and certain Reubenites—Dathan and Abiram, sons of Eliab, and On son of Peleth—became insolent[a] 2 and rose up against Moses. With them were 250 Israelite men, well-known community leaders who had been appointed members of the council. 3 They came as a group to oppose Moses and Aaron and said to them, “You have gone too far! The whole community is holy, every one of them, and the Lord is with them. Why then do you set yourselves above the Lord’s assembly?”

Korah= called to God

Izhar=sparkler! "the ripest"

Kohath= obedience, the gathering of the congregation.

Levi= unity

Reubenites= traits of leaders

Dathan= decree or well. A dat is a decree, a han is "of God's Grace."

Abiram= Father of loftiness, my Father is exalted.

Eliab= God is my father

On= Pillar, the abode of the sun

Peleth= to distinguish, to pray something unseen in revealed, also "special, separated".

"Those called to the mountain are the smartest, get along well with others and exhibit the traits of leadership. They observe the Decrees, exalt God [refrain from idolatry and propaganda] and have big golden pillars. They are distinguished in their ability to discern what is unseen."

4 When Moses heard this, he fell facedown.

=Worship of God, associated with the Amidah "preparation",

In the name of Almighty God, let us be protected, free of limiting deception, free of boundaries, let us connect with love, let us connect in utter holiness.

A moveable stand is a man who is like the trunk of a tree which can spread its branches and fruits as far as the branches grow. Wherever the man goes, there his enlightening influences go with him.

The Molten Sea or Brazen Sea (ים מוצק yām mūṣāq "cast metal sea") was a large basin in the Temple in Jerusalem made by Solomon for ablution of the priests. It is described in 1 Kings 7:23–26 and 2 Chronicles 4:2–5. It stood in the south-eastern corner of the inner court. It represents "the endowment of the present moment."

Pots, shovels, wick trimmers, and dishes are referred to in the Torah as the means to unearth the Sentient Self by discarding what is not intelligent, considerate, noble, or good. Around these qualities, a man is wrap himself like leather around a frame. From Bemidbar:

9 “They are to take a blue cloth and cover the lampstand that is for light, together with its lamps, its wick trimmers and trays, and all its jars for the olive oil used to supply it. 10 Then they are to wrap it and all its accessories in a covering of the durable leather and put it on a carrying frame."

Sprinkling bowls are the weirdest part of this, they represent adavz, "advancing to Zayin" the Eye of the Fountain. Proper knowledge of the universe is sprinkled by God a little at a time all around us. To sprinkle the blood out of a sprinkling bowl represents the diffusion of the Full Understand of God by other males through their blood sacrifices a little at a time, every day, is the key to understanding the mystery of the sprinkling bowls.

History and society advance in the same way. We get one day, one hour at a time in order to work out our problems and fulfill the hidden wishes of the human race that are inherent to the laws named in the process of Constitution. We tend to struggle against them and lie to ourselves, thus we are regressed humanity. Even still the Torah Melachim says we are to do the opposite.

The Values in Gematria are:

v. 13: The Babylonians broke up the Pillars. The Value in Gematria is 8573, חה‎ז‎ג, hazg, "the couple."

By breaking up the Pillars of Religion, the Constitution creates a new kind of union. One in which the rights of persons are guaranteed to be respected. Religion says this is a good thing to do, the law says it is something one must do.

v. 14: They took away the pots and the shoves. The Value in Gematria is זחזא‎, zahza, "it is this."

v. 15: And the censers and sprinkling bowls. The Value in Gematria is 7237, ז‎בג‎ז‎, "wasted."

Happiness is wasted if the Church is allowed to put all of life in its clutches. Religion is necessary for our development, no other institution teaches or demonstrates ethics to little kids or substantiates their importance to adults but the church.

Even still, it is as important to be happy as it is to be ethical. Constitutional governments guarantee the importance of both.

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 5 years

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if one of your proudest accomplishments growing up was being deemed ‘the youngest to ever do x' then congratulations! you’re now a burned out adult with mental health issues and low self-esteem

#mental health #depression #burnout #self-esteem #a theory that just occurred to me now as i remembered how i became the band librarian in middle school #because as an autistic kid who back then still thought i would BE a librarian my brain was ideal for it #but the instructor (who taught me flute from 5th to 12th grade) had a rule about not letting anyone be librarian until they were #in at least 10th grade so they could also be his TA #but i had hours of free time after school every day and would spend it in his library if he let me anyway #so he broke his own rule to appoint me to the position #(and this probably sounds very silly but at my small town high school the only thing that won impressive awards and went cool places #was the band--it was regionally a Big Deal)#and so remembering just how honored i was and how special i felt when i was still so little...to be Band Librarian...#all i can think now is yikes you poor kid you have no idea what's coming #and i wish somebody had been looking out for you instead of selectively focusing on your skills and assuming they'd be enough

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robinofinashiro · 3 years

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@megumitodoroki: “headcannons (maybe a drabble if you want??) for yan tamaki and yan kirishima with a pregnant darling? ( i saw the hawks and bakugo one, i really liked!!!)”

characters: yandere kirishima ejirou, tamaki amajiki x fem! reader

request status: OPENED / all fandoms I write for are pinned to the top of my page as well as my rules! feel free to request as you’d like! just please be respectful of my rules and if you have any questions, personally message me!

kirishima ejirou:

oooh, fuck, really? you got pregnant with HIS baby? fuck. i mean, kirishima is a great husband, for the MOST part. his issue 99.9999% of the time is that he’s too fucking clingy and it shows. even if he isn’t laying it on thick, everyone can see the way he is around you.

lets say you weren’t home when he found out. you went through the five stages of grief when you found out. the stick was in your hand as you stared at the wall in panic. you were in no mindset to be carrying a child and you knew there would be consequences the longer you waited to tell him.

at first, you planned to end it all and just put you and the fetus out of misery but then you realized.....kiri locked all the knifes, sharp objects, and anything you could think of hurting yourself with away. you knew regardless of what you were thinking, you were going to have his kid whether you wanted too or not.

when kiri came home, you were still in the same position in the bathroom and holding onto the stick in your hand. when he realized what it was, he let out a high pitched scream. you’re pregnant !! like this wasn’t something he was expecting to happen just yet but here you were !! pregnant with his kid.

the first thing he did was make an appointment for you. he needed to know how far along you were and when your projected birth date was. the doctor hadn’t been able to pinpoint what the sex was yet but he didn’t care !! his child was going to be the next red riot !! he was going to make sure of it !!

months into the pregnancy, he started to fix up the nursery. while you were still miserable in the fact that you were pregnant, you knew you got nothing out of loathing from the news and tried to look at the silver linings in all of it. maybe kiri would lay off the rules and give you some freedom. he was already acting different.

when you were in pain, he would be at your call. when he was at work, he made sure someone was there with you. what if something went wrong? he couldn’t trust you on your own. when your mood swings were bad, he would listen to you for once and keep his distance when you asked. when you were starving, he would get whatever it is you wanted.

the nursery was red riot themed. little linings of red everywhere with black incorporated along with it. he had small figures of himself in the crib and on small shelfs around the room. kiri made sure to put pics of the two of you in the room so the kid could see the love you both had for each other. he even went out of his way to make mini outfits of his hero uniform that fit every time he assumed the kid would have a growth spurt.

lets say you end up finding out that you were having not only a boy, they were going to be twin boys, kiri fucking fainted. he doubled everything in the nursery and even built an extra room for the second baby. kiri was ecstatic to say the least. he never thought he’d get twins !! you on the other hand went through another phase of grief knowing that you were carrying twins and that meant that kiri was going to be home more than you wanted him to be.

when you finally go into labor, kiri dropped everything he was doing and fucking SPEED RAN to the hospital. when he got there, you were already under epidural and trying to calm yourself down. the pain was unbearable, even with the epidural. he could see the pain on your face and wanted to cry right along with you. you were even holding onto him, hoping that he did something right for once and tried to calm you down.

when you finally gave birth, kiri bawled like a child. they were both out within a few minutes and while you held one baby, kiri held the other. they had his black hair and your skin tone. he had never seen three beautiful people in his life and here you were, his wife and kids. his life was complete.

tamaki amajiki:

okay cool, tamaki is not horrible yandere so you’re relatively safe for the most part. the thing with tamaki that makes it unbearable to live with is that you can’t do shit. he’s terrified of you even breathing the wrong way tbh. he won’t let you leave the house bc he’s afraid something will happen to you.

the day you found out you were pregnant with his baby, it was bittersweet. you were excited bc although he had abducted and was holding you hostage in his home, tamaki as a person was not a horrible person. he wasn’t mirio and he def wasn’t nejire. you had been feeling sick for a while and every morning you woke up you ran to the bathroom vomiting your guts out.

you refused to tell tamaki bc you knew he would go into full panic if you did. you just had told mirio in secret to bring you a test and drop it off. when he did, you quickly ran to the bathroom and took the test. you were clawing the counter in a bout of anxiety and as soon as the clear blue test rang up positive, you felt dizzy in the head and fell on top of mirio who had offered to stay.

he quickly fanned you as he basically screamed to tamaki to get his ass home. tamaki had dropped everything he was doing and ran to his house. he had no idea why mirio was there and bc the emergency was abt you, he booked it even faster. when he finally got there, you were chugging back a hydroflask full of water and murmured to him the news.

tamaki basically passed out three different times hearing the news. it took mirio, a call to nejire, and yourself to get him out of it. when he finally stopped fainting and realized what you had said, he gave you a long hug, murmuring that finally it happened. he had been wanting kids for so long, as weird as it sounds. he was nervous wreck almost all the time but he wanted to continue his family line with you and hopefully they ended up with your personality.

he scheduled your first doctor appointment a few weeks later and at that appointment, the two of you had found out the exact date and gender. you were having a baby girl !! tamaki was dumbfounded. he was expecting a boy but he wasn’t complaining. he was getting a mini you !! another to love and take care of. that meant that no hero course for his baby girl. nope !! business or support course at the very least.

her nursery consisted of small sun eater figures and outfits. every now and again, he would had lemillion and nejire-chan themed things. your daughter would have mini outfits of all three of them and would have plushies of the three of them in the crib. hell, even the crib set was the big three themed. he and mirio had painted a mural for her and added photos of all four of you to make sure that even if his daughter didn’t have anyone to be her friend, the four of you would always be there.

he didn’t take your change in moods well. frankly, he was terrified of you. there would be days where you would unleash your anger like never before and other days, you’d be sobbing to him. the food you did make though was AMAZING. it was a weird combination that always turned out amazing at the end.

fat gum and kirishima were surprised but excited to hear the news. they bought her a bunch of red riot and fat gum themed clothes as well and fat gum would even bring you food when he was in the area. you were so important to tamaki and he knew that so he had to make sure that you were also important to him too. tamaki upon telling mirio and nejire that you were pregnant told them they were the god parents so they were almost just as protective over you like tamaki was.

the day you gave birth, tamaki was home with you. you were just laying in bed when your water broke and he drove you to the hospital like he was in fast and furious. you were taken back by his actions but he practically screamed at the nurses as soon as you arrived to help you. he made sure to scream to them to give you epidural the minute you asked and if any of them even slipped up once, tamaki would have blood on his hands a few days later, making sure he took care of those useless nurses and doctors. tamaki in this setting was not one to mess with, that’s to say the least.

when you finally gave birth, he cried a bit but not as much as you expected. the time he did cry was when he held his daughter and looked at the two of you. his life was perfect. you had a healthy daughter and you were relatively okay yourself post-birth. the only other time he cried was when he made the three-way call to mirio, fat gum, and nejire to tell them you had finally given birth and all of you were okay.

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rafesgfs · 4 years

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thank u, next (ft. loki) - part two

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex, violence

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: A mission goes wrong, leaving you stranded with the two men who despise each other, competing for your attention.

Or: In which Steve breaks up with Sharon after realizing how much he loves you, only to be put on hold while you spend time with Loki.

Tony kept glancing at you, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to figure out what kind of mind manipulation Loki had hexed you with. Natasha was torn between proud and shock. Clint had been positive it was a prank on his behalf until he had learned it was true, the archer studying you, wondering if you were under Loki's influence. And Bruce—well, he still couldn't get over the shock to actually word his opinion.

Steve, on the other hand, wasted no time blaming Loki, accusing him of using his magic to manipulate you into bed. When Thor has came back with news that Loki hadn't—with Heimdell being all knowing and watching—it had made Steve go to Fury, who had shown emotion on his face other than boredom and disappointment. Yet the surprise wore off and the director found it not relevant as the issue had not broken one of the rules Loki had agreed to.

The super soldier had hit the gym in a hurry, pounding the sandbag, probably wishing it was Loki. And Thor, like everyone else, it took him time to process it but unlike everyone, he barely gave it a thought. With word from Heimdell, knowing that his brother wasn't planning anything to harm you or the others, he was at peace with the situation as long as it was two consenting adults.

As you sat in the conference room, waiting for Steve and Loki to show up for the meeting, you wondered why he thought it was okay to overreact to something so...normal. People have sex, he must've known that you weren't any different. And unfortunately, Fury has picked the same day to spring a mission on the team, forcing all of you into a room, not caring about the act you committed with Loki.

Loki came in first, dressed in his usual black color, a suit almost identical to the one he wore the day before. Even from across the room, you could easily spot the hickeys he kept, a bunch peeking out from under the suit. It had given you a sense of pride and embarrassment, going down on the God of Mischief.

He caught your eye, the corner of his lips turned up, twitching without their permission. Loki wouldn't admit it out loud but he liked you to the point of sacrificing everyone in the room to save the one decent person who hadn't judge him. Everyone had turned to look at him, following his every move whilst he moved to the empty seat besides you.

The one that everyone knew was Steve's. Yet, no one said a word, secretly enjoying the show.

"Greetings," he said curtly, nodding once to everyone with an expressionless face. They all nodded back to him, Tony covering the smile that was trying to force itself on his face. Loki turned to you, sitting down in Steve seat as he gave you a smirk, amused by your attempt to cover up his marks. "Hello, angel."

The nickname alone wanted to make you want to ditch the meeting for a dick appointment with the Asgardian, the name slipping from his tongue. The same name he had whispered into you ear as he thrusted into you. Instead, you gave him a small smile, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together. "Hey."

Loki noticed the motion, his smirk widening. Pulling the chair closer to your own, his arm leaning up against yours. Leaning in, he put his lips to your ears, ignoring everyone's stares, including his brother's. "Your attempt to cover my hard work is very amusing, love."

"Loki..." you warned, using the same tone you had last night when he teased you too far, wishing for release. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Shut up, not everyone has magic."

"All you have to do is ask, although I prefer to see them on your skin." Loki whispered, not caring how many people team members had subconsciously leaned in, straining to hear what the raven-haired God had to say.

Before you could answer, the door opened, Steve and Fury entering. The super soldier had an exhausted look on his face while Fury kept his emotionless facade up. Steve started walking towards his seat, so distracted by the uncovered hickeys on your neck to notice it had been taken. The blond did a double take, seeing Loki in his chair. If it wasn't for the barely contained anger in his eyes, you would've bursted out laughing at his comical expression.

The team stayed quiet, their eyes glued on the silent war between the two men. Loki nonchalantly looked up, his lips brushing against your hair as he pulled away, smirking at Steve. The silence was broken by Fury's tired sigh.

"Well, hello, Captain." Loki sneered, not having any intention of getting up. Steve's eyes stormed with anger, a tick away from letting loose. The God of Mischief pointed to the chair across from you, the one next to Tony, giving the super soldier a pointed look. "You should take your seat."

Tony muffled a snort at Steve's scowl, yet America's Sweetheart didn't move a muscle, glaring at Loki. Fury rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Rogers, take a seat next to Stark. Loki, stop being an asshole. Back to business."

Steve followed Fury's order, sitting down besides Tony, his angry expression turning blank, waiting for whatever Fury had to say. Yet, his eyes still looked murderous, often glancing at the lack of space between you and Loki. Tony didn't hide his amusement, biting back a laugh, and trying to focus on whatever Fury was saying while the rest of the team kept looking at Steve, expecting him to reach across the table and punch Loki back to Asgard.

"While you agents were partying, drinking all your problems away, SHIELD got a tip from an undercover agent." Fury started, sliding your folders across the table, giving you something to look at other than the tension between Steve and Loki. You opened the folder to find pictures of blood-covered bodies. "Normally, we wouldn't bring the Avengers into a mafia-related crimes but this one's different.

"The Chinese Mafia is after a USB flash drive, one that we suspect, contains secrets that could bring down the American government. Emphasis on could; SHIELD isn't that well informed on what exactly the flash drive holds." Fury continued. Looking at you, he called your name. "Along with Rogers and Laufeyson. I'm assigning the three of you on the mission. You'll get the mission details as soon as Agent Hill gets here. The rest of you are irrelevant. Everyone go away now."

He left the room before anyone could even move a muscle. The team glanced between Loki and Steve, trying to figure out what they felt. It was clear neither of them were too happy about going on a mission together but the photographs of dead bodies made them bury their resentment down, for the sake of the government and all, but mostly for your sake.

Tony cleared his throat, trying not to burst out laughing. "So, Cap—"

Steve called out your name, standing up from his seat. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone? It's urgent."

"Yeah, sure." you said, following him out the door without looking back at the rest. You didn't notice the way Loki oozed with madness, his eyes deadly. Steve led you away from the view of room, stopping in the middle of a private hallway. It was secluded enough, yet Steve kept fidgeting like someone was listening. "Steve, I know you aren't particularly fond of Loki but he's a good—"

"I broke up with Sharon." Steve blurted. You stopped talking, your mouth open from your earlier words. The blond ran a hand through his hair. "I broke up with her last night, just before the party started ... before you walked in with Loki."

"That's not what it looked like."

"I was trying to be her friend, just like I'm trying to be yours." Steve explained, almost begging. "I never got the chance to apologize for hurting you. When you came back from Asgard, it had been too long for me to even mention it without it being awkward. So, I didn't. I wanted to but you didn't want to spend time with me anymore. And that's my fault, I'm not blaming you for being hurt. I understand what I did was so selfish, and wrong. It was wrong and if I could go back in time, I would've never done it."

You closed your gaping mouth, a little surprised by the apology. Rocking back on your heels, you awkwardly looked everywhere but at him. "Okay, um, thanks?"

Dejected, Steve nodded, his head hanging from the lack of sympathy in your voice. "Yeah. I wanted you to know. That's what I was coming to tell you this morning, but instead found you in bed with .... him."

"Uh," it was all you could say. Clueless of how to respond, you started to back away slowly, like there was a bear coming towards you. "Okay. So ... I'm gonna go. Get prepared for the mission or whatever. I'll see you later."

Before he could utter another word, you walked away, feeling completely numb by the news. There was a part of you that wanted to forgive him, another part was feeling satisfied for his pain, and the last was confused. If he had been telling the truth—breaking up with Sharon before the party—then why hadn't he told you or apologized when he came to talk to you? It made you question whether he was just jealous or genuinely sorry for hurting you.

You weren't ready to forgive him yet, not after he made you doubt your self worth. Thor had made you feel better when you had came to him, showering you with golden gifts, shoes, and brotherly love. Despite popular belief, Loki wasn't that much different than his brother. Yes, he wasn't a people person, but he was gruffer, rougher, meaner...sexier. He knew what it was like to feel unwanted, feeling the need to show how powerful he was. If you had been in his situation—and you practically almost were if it hadn't been for Natasha—you would've taken the same road he had.

Speak of the devil, you bumped right into him, his chest only covered by a black silk sweater. With all the heavy thinking you hadn't realized you had walked back to your room. Gathering your thoughts, you looked up at his blue eyes. "Shit, sorry."

"Are you well, angel?" Loki asked, genuinely concerned. He had heard every word Steve had said, and to Loki's dismay, they had all been true. Loki hated Steve as much as Steve hated him, Steve had a reason and so did the God of Lies. The main reason? You.

You nodded, seeing how your room was messy. Books and blankets were on the ground, a broken glass scattered on the floor near your bedside table, a lamp covered in feathers, and last night's clothes strewn around the room. "I'm fine. But my room isn't, holy fuck."

With a wave of his hand, Loki cleared the room, the disastrous mess cleaned up before your eyes. He gave you a smile. "There. Director Cyclops wanted me to inform you and Sleeping Beauty that Maria Hill is in the building. She's ready if we are."

"Great. One thing before we step out this room: be nice."

"I'll try."

—

The mission was far easier than you originally thought. It was less than 24 hours, meaning you wouldn't be trapped in a designated safe house with them, or would you be in any kind of trouble. Just like Fury had said, it was an extract mission. Get the flash drive, get out.

Unfortunately, we'd be forced to go to a gala, one of those unnecessarily fancy parties where the champagne was watered down and the men showed how powerful they were with girls clinging onto their arm. It was a pre-kidnapped Tony Stark kind of party. Thankfully, you had more than a few practice with walking in heels.

The two men were able to put their hatred aside to focus on the job, Loki's magic still restrained even with the urgency of the mission. Maria Hill had filled you in, giving you all the details, the layout of the building, and all the places they suspected the drive to be. The plan was to fly to Hong Kong, get dressed for the party in the Quinjet, attend the gala long enough to find Zhang Wei, and run with the USB flash drive. Simple enough.

The flight from New York to Hong Kong was tiring, even with the eight hour slumber you had, finding yourself in Loki's arms once again. Fortunately, Steve hadn't seen you with Thor's brother, knocking this time and finding you alone, reading the mission file for the millionth time. He had smiled, probably happy he didn't see Loki in your room. That smile didn't last, dropping as soon as he stepped in the Quinjet, greeted Loki and saw the quick smile you sent the raven-haired God. It tugged on his heartstrings; you used to smile at him like that.

At least they kept their snide comments to themselves, only sending the other a glare when you weren't looking. As soon as you looked up, a slightly perplexed expression would come on their face, like they were trying to think of a word that rhymes with orange. Yet, you didn't dare question it, leaving the topic alone and quietly stewing in the testosterone-filled aircraft.

When the Quinjet finally reached Hong Kong, you had already changed into your formal wear. Loki didn't have to move to change his clothes; instead he used his magic, making him look presentable in a blink of an eye. Steve had frowned on that, but decided to let it go considering he had a lot to make up to you. Getting into a fight with your ... whatever Loki was, would not be a great start.

Getting ready for the party had been easy, the dress fit you just right, your hair being in the mood to cooperate, and even your makeup was flawless. The reaction from Steve and Loki certainly didn't help your ego, their comical reactions to your beauty had been amusing and slightly embarrassing.

Steve's mouth has hung open, his jaw unwilling to close while he stared at you. "Wow. Y-you look gorgeous. Wow."

"Truly breathtaking, love." Loki added, licking his lips in appreciation. If there was one thing both he and Steve could agree on, was the way you always turned heads. If anything, Loki wanted to make you his goddess—he just didn't want to admit it to himself just yet.

And since you were too emotionally invested, you took the easy way out and rolled your eyes. Dressed in their tuxes, they looked like they stepped out of a Hugo Boss ad. "Thanks. You guys clean up well."

Steve was too busy admiring you to notice Loki pull out a diamond encrusted ring, not exactly a engagement ring from Jared but one of those rings you get with friends during a drunken girl's night out. Loki stepped up to you, bringing your right hand, placing the ring on your index finger.

"The ring ... goes well with your dress." Loki explained, watching you stare at the ring he had placed. Steve's wonderment has turned sour, a little sad by the gesture. "It was my mother's."

"Loki," you gasped softly, knowing the how special their relationship had been. Thor had explained how Loki spent most his childhood with Frigga, spending his time learning magic, being a mama's boy. With Frigga dead, Loki must've felt some resentment to those dark elves that had been responsible for her death. "I can't— I can't take this."

Loki shrugged, brushing away a stray hair on your cheek. "Yes, you can. You will. It looks beautiful on you. Don't you agree, Captain?"

To be completely honest, Loki had forgotten Steve had existed until his heart faltered at the mention of Frigga. Steve didn't like the way the ring looked like it belonged on you, almost like it had been made specially for you. He nodded, agreeing with Loki once again. "Looks beautiful."

Before it could get any more awkward or embarrassing, an alarm had sounded, the noise saying you from any further feels. All three of you moved to the front, seeing how you hovered a few feet off the landing spot assigned for the Quinjet. With the many SHIELD headquarters, it wasn't a surprise they had in Tokyo just as modernly technical like the one in New York.

The limo ride that took you to the party was tense. Maybe it was the mission that was about to go down, or that awkward moment in the Quinjet. The navy blue, floor-length dress was silky, the fabric soft against your skin. The one-inch straps that came together at the back of your neck accentuated your cleavage, brining them to look bigger than they were. It clung to your curves, but not tight like the dress you had worn the yesterday. This one was far more elegant.

Wrapped in your thoughts, you hadn't noticed when the limo had stopped, the crowded building to your right. The doors opened, both Steve and Loki reaching out a hand to help you out of the limo. Taking them both, you snaked an arm around both of theirs, letting others know you had two dates. You thought the red carpet leading to the entrance was a bit much, even for the Chinese mafia.

Two suited men opened the double glass doors, revealing the fancy gala. Dangerous men and mafia families filled the large room, eyes flickering to your entrance, widening when they realized who had entered. They knew your dates, but SHIELD had made sure to keep your place on the team a secret for missions like this one. No criminal would trust an Avenger, but they might be dumb—or arrogant—enough to be manipulated by a "mole" in SHIELD.

The talking stopped briefly, only to turn to hushed murmurs before they continued as they had before. Both Steve and Loki turned down the campaign, not trusting whatever was put in the liquid. Looking around the room, there was nothing out of the ordinary, well, for a party held by a mafia of course.

"Should we proceed as planned?" Loki confirmed, surveying the room as he tried to find his own target. He locked eyes with the man he needed to distract while Steve and you would sneak away and find Zhang Wei and the flash drive.

Steve nodded, slyly touching his earpiece hidden by his growing hair. You had no idea how Tony convinced him how to grow it out but you were going to thank him later. "Yes. Keep in contact and check in every ten minutes. Be careful."

Loki nodded, heading off to his target but not before giving you a reassuring smile, tiny enough for no one else to notice but it was enough to ease your worries. Yes, he's an all-powerful god but that didn't mean he couldn't die.

Turning to Steve, you smiled at him, almost naughtily. Eyes twinkling with evilness, you hold out your free hand, challenging him with your eyebrows. "Would you like to dance, Stevie?"

You've never seen so much fear in someone's eyes come in such a short time. Steve's contained so much fear you were worried he was going to combust. "Um, I d-don't really know how."

"Why, that's a shame, Captain." a man behind you said. Turning around, you found yourself only a foot away from the mafia leader himself, Zhang Wei. Steve's jaw clenched at the unprepared confrontation. Zhang turned to you, holding his unnaturally thin hand out. You could see the bones through the thin skin, shivering at the sight. "Would you like to dance, darling?"

Taking the opportunity, you nodded, taking his hand, hoping Steve would get the hint to not look so stiff. "I would love to."

Zhang took you to the almost empty dance floor, the music starting as soon as his foot hit the designated area. Smiling maliciously, he tugged on your waist, pulling you close for a proper dance. "You look beautiful, my dear. I'm certain your date is jealous I stole you away."

"He doesn't mind." you answered, returning the smile. Glancing at Steve, you saw him glaring at the back of Zhang's head, burning a hole. "Steve is rather hesitant when it comes to dancing, so, I'm sure he doesn't mind you helping a lady out."

The mafia leader's smiled widened. His eyes briefly landed on Loki, narrowing slightly at the way he interacted with his second in command. You took the brief amount of time to inspect him, noticing how much thinner he looked. With eye bags under his eyes, bones peeking through his hands, and the way his footsteps faltered ever so slightly made you realize he isn't going to be hard to take down. He may be the big bad criminal but from the looks of it, he was dying.

Zhang Wei nodded. "You look familiar. Have I seen you before?"

"I'm an escort. You may or may not have seen me on a bunch of powerful men's arms." you lied, flashing him your most charming smile. Zhang raised an eyebrow, gesturing towards Steve with a tilt of his head. "Steve's the same, poor baby was too shy to ask anyone to be his date."

"Didn't think Captain America would have such a hard time finding a date." Zhang mumbled aloud. He kept the false smile on his face. "If the time came, would you tell me your name, in case I can't find myself a date?"

"Tatia Sinclair." you lied, twirling in his arms.

The mafia leader nodded. The dance floor had filled up, nearly overcrowding. It took you a second to find Steve with all the bodies in the way. Zhang cleared his throat. "What a lovely name. Tatia, darling, would you accompany me to my study? I have to fetch something special of mine and would like you pleasant company."

Steve snarled your name through the earpiece, Loki's growl following along. Again, the super soldier and the god agreed. Steve murmured your name. "Don't."

Ignoring his order—and unnecessary concern—you grinned, taking Zhang outstretched arm. "I would love to."

He led you to the elegant stairs while you discreetly turned off your earpiece, no longer wanting to hear Steve's overprotective ass grumbling about sticking to the plan. If he had checked his folder, he would've seen you were sticking to the plan, just not the way he wanted.

The walk to his office was a slow one, considering how sick the mafia leader was, you weren't surprised when he was out of breath just from climbing the stairs. You didn't comment, instead helping him out and pointing out random things a dumb escort would say. Your personal plan was to make this guy underestimate you, and with the way he was looking at you, he was convinced you were just a body with no brains.

He opened the door to his mahogany office, the room was just as elegant as the party below, oozing power and money. Zhang went to his desk, opening his cabinet. From where he left you, you couldn't see what considering how he held it in his hand without opening his palm. A knock at the door stopped you from asking.

Surprisingly his right hand man came in, the one Loki was supposed to be distracting, at least long enough for us to figure out where the flash drive was. And guessing from the amount of evidence, you were guessing the flash drive was in the mafia leader's hand. He glanced at you, tilting his head at Zhang before speaking.

They talked in Chinese--surprise, surprise--a bit fast for you to fully decipher but the gist of the conversation had been finding a safe, more guarded location for the drive considering both Steve Rogers and Loki Laufeyson were in the building, just a floor below them. The two men paid you no attention as you tried to look clueless, bored, and in all, dumb. In their eyes, you were just checking out the room when actually you had been trying to find more dirt. If it wasn't the drive in his hand, it had to be close by.

"Tatia." Zhang called out, using the fake name you had given him. You turned around, a little glass globe in your hand. You raised an eyebrow, twirling the little sphere. "Would you excuse me? I have some rather pressing issues that need to be dealt with."

And once again, the door opened before you could answer the question. This time, at the door stood Steve and Loki, a man laying on the floor between the two. From the way both their suits were a little ruffled, they had enough waiting and decided to take action. A few appeared out of knowhere, tacking the two but you were left alone to deal with the men in the room. Zhang reached under his desk, where you had discreetly took the hidden gun while they had been talking.

Zhang's second in command quickly pointed his loaded gun at you, and you at him, your eyes reflecting the same emotion: hate. The man spoke to Zhang, keeping his gun steady while Zhang tried to get away. Even for a dying man, he moved fast, leaving you the choice of shooting his second in command in the knee. He cried out, firing his gun out of anguish but you were faster, quickly following Zhang, leaving a big group of men to fight Loki and Steve. They would be able to handle it.

Running in heels was always an annoyance to you, considering how unnecessary they were on missions. They looked hot but the fact that you were forced to wear them was a little sexist. You'd have to talk with Fury about that.

The halls were lit up with chanderliers dangling from the ceiling, all of them shining brightly. For someone who had been limping out of the room, he had been fast, or was hiding but the fact was that you lost him. You could still hear the grunts from where Loki and Steve were punching the fuck out of those mafia men.

You slowed, looking at the painting-decorated walls in search of some kind of secret door, maybe a fake wall. It sounded ridiculous but at the compound, Tony had a bunch of hiding spots, a few you knew and others you didn't. It was infuriating.

The hallway must've lasted forever, and you were convinced he had vanished into thin air. Then you spotted a cracked door, it was enough to be left opened on accident, but that didn't mean it was. With caution, you walked slowly, holding your gun in front of you. With your foot, you cracked the door open, entering a room of complete darkness. From what you could tell, there were no windows, and most likely a fake safe room.

Still, you flipped the light switch on, the room lighting up with it's obnoxiously bright white paint reflecting even brighter with the light. Scanning the room, you noticed how it smelled slightly sweet, the sweetness making you slightly dizzy. You shook your head, trying to find something wrong, like a hidden wall, or maybe another escape route from inside the room.

It didn't take long for you to realize the sweet scent was toxic, the side effect making you dizzier, the room spinning under your feet. As soon as you grasped the wall for support, Zhang came from the wall beside you, the little door opening to reveal the mafia leader holding his own gun, the flash drive in his hand as he taunted you with it.

He laughed at your weakened state, aiming his gun at your heart. It triggered your fight or flight and even with the side effect, you decided to fight. He was weaker than you, slower, his aged brain not processing you running at him. His gun dropped on the ground, along with the USB drive as your hand wrapped around his neck, pushing him against the wall with all your remaining strength.

Zhang had to been immune to the fast-acting toxin while you crumbled, unable to hold your body with the dizziness and fatigue bringing you down. Taking the upper hand, he knocked you over, his fist colliding with your jaw. You grunted, pouncing for the gun and flash drive, hiding the latter in your bra while the mafia leader shook his hand in pain.

Just as you had wrapped your fingers around the barrel of the gun, you heard the gunshot, and felt it hit your shoulder. Your hand was useless, your body way too weak from the toxins to defend yourself against the man, at this point just hoping they would find the flash drive in your bra when they autopsied you.

Another bullet was fired, and this one right on your arm, the pain numb. Maybe this was the way you were going to die, but at least it wasn't painful. That was the best you could've hoped for. And then another bullet was fired, but you didn't feel it, the fire inside you too hot for you to even register the pain. You laid on the ground, eyes drifting close. Zhang dropped dead a couple of feet next to you, his head bleeding out.

Your vision had already blackened when you felt Steve knelt down to you, pulling you into his arms. You were unconscious by the the time you figured out Steve had killed.

—

You woke up to the sound of the irritating beat of your heart of the monitor, and heavy breathing. Despite the very difficult task, you opened your eyes, instantly regretting it when you were met with a blinding light. Thankfully, it went away, revealing where you were in the Medbay, laying on the stiff bed with needles pierced into your skin.

Steve got up from his seat beside you, instantly hovering over you with a worried look on his face. If you hadn't felt like shit, you would've thought his face was permanently like that. "Hey, hey. Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"Am I in hell?"

He let out a strained chuckle, taking your hand with the both of his. His furrowed eyebrows remained furrowed, his forehead filled with crinkles. "Sweetheart? How do you feel? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?"

"Holy fuck, you're spitting in my face. Steve, I feel like shit but I promise I'm fine. Come on, don't you don't have to worry so much." you replied, wishing you could do something other than lie in pain.

"You're fine? I watched you get shot, held you in my arms while you bled out in front of me. If it wasn't for Loki, you'd be dead. Don't you understand how not fine that is? What the hell were you thinking?" Steve raged, letting go of your hand to pace around the room. Judging from the lack of sunlight coming from the windows, it was nighttime, the whole compound barely lit.

"Did you find the drive? I had it—"

"Are you actually worrying about the flash drive when you almost died? Do you not care whether or not you live?" Steve blurted, throwing his hands up in the air, clearly frustrated with how the conversation was going.

"Where's Loki?" you whispered, your eyes slowly closing. You fought to keep them open, hoping for an answer and wishing you could postpone this argument with Steve until morning when you finally could argue back.

Steve calmed down, appreciating the God of Mischief a lot more when he saved your life. "He's filling out Fury on the whole situation. And we found the flash drive, which made Fury gleam with glee."

"Good." you yawned, letting your eyes close knowing Loki was safe and found the flash drive. Steve whispered something but you were already too far gone, falling asleep as soon as your eyes closed.

Loki came into the room a few minutes after you fell asleep, stepping up next to Steve who had been staring your sleeping form. The raven-haired God pulled up a chair, his eyes never leaving your face. "How is she?"

"More worried about the aftermath of the mission more than herself." Steve answered, his voice wavering for a second at the thought of losing you. The super soldier turned to Loki. "Thank you for going against the rules and using your magic to save her. I think it's safe to say you won't get into any trouble, especially with her fighting Tony about it."

Loki shrugged, waving away the compliment. "You would've done the same if you could've."

A beat of silence passed before Steve spoke again, more determined than ever to win back your trust. "I like her, you know?"

"I care for her, too." Loki replied. "And I know that you care for her but don't you understand that I'm far better for her than you ever will? You hurt her. You broke her trust. I may only know her for a few days but I know breaking trust is important to her. To earn it back—"

"Would almost be impossible." Steve finished, his eyes dropping to the bed. "But I have to try. I really like her."

"As do I. And I'm not giving up."

"Neither will I."

< previous next >

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #implied smut #jealousy #tony stark #captain america #marvel #tom hiddleston #love triangle

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txemrn · 3 years

Text

Book: Open Heart (after book 3)

Word Count: 1456 (+/-)

Warnings: Language, angst, maternal death

A/N: You guessed it; we did another Drunken Drabbles last night (which if you ever want to play, please join us! My buddies @chemist-ana, @jstawriterbee, & @kat-tia801 joined me last night--check out their DD! They actually have smut!), and this one is brought to you be Deep Eddie's Vodka. As far as the challenge? I broke every. single. rule. First of all, I passed out before I could schedule to post this, so here I am, 2.5 hours late. Second, I didn't use the prompt. There is literally no prompt to this. Third, I'm well over 1000 word. And finally, there is no smut. Nada. Zilch. What the hell happened last night? *rubs head* Some characters and plot belong to Pixelberry. Also, no editing or pre-reading with this bad boy, so please forgive me! Enjoy! 😎

***

Depositing a dollop of hand sanitizer in her palm, newly appointed Chief of Obstetrics Dr. Tatum Erikson escorts a nurse out of a labor patient's room. “Let’s go ahead and start that amnio,” she orders as she rubs her hands together. "300 bolus followed by 80 an hour. Call me if--" the chime of her pager interrupts her. "Shit."

"Ma'am?"

Tatum rubs her temples. "Sorry--um--" she looks back at her pager. "--call me if those decels don't resolve in thirty minutes--" she begins to jog down the birthing center's corridor, heading towards the stairs to exit the unit.

She bolts down the six flights, reaching the ground level at a rapid speed. She rounds the corner, pushing past the double doors next to a large red-and-white illuminated sign: Emergency. She sees the commotion ahead and a patient being transferred from a stretcher, not responsive.

"I'm Dr. Erikson," she frantically calls out over the chaos of the room. "I was paged 911. What've we got?" As a seasoned EMT rattles off vital signs and history, Tatum instantly recognizes Karla Hogan, a patient she saw this morning at her 38-week check-up appointment.

Oh, God, no... Please no...

"...she was found unresponsive at the scene of the MVA. Asystole. CPR in process for 17 minutes--"

"Epi? We've given epi?"

"Yes--"

"Atropine?"

"Maxed."

No, no, no. This can't be happening…

"Doctor, how would you like to proceed--?"

"Put a goddamn fetal monitor on my patient," she barks, turning to a nurse nearby. "You," she points, "page OB STAT Emergency overhead. I need an OR now--"

"It won't make a difference," bellows a cold, baritone voice from the doorway of the room.

Tatum freezes, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She knows that hauntingly deep voice: a voice that once made her giggle incessantly during the day while he purred her name late into the night; a voice that encouraged her, comforted her, believed in her all through medical school; a voice that once laid claim to her hand and her heart--that is until that voice found her in bed with his best friend. She knows that frigid tone anywhere.

"Ramsey," she mutters.

"A postmortem c-section?" He condescendingly questions, strolling confidently into the room. "She's been down for how long--?"

"But, if these chest compressions have been adequate, there's a chance--"

"She was gone before they even started--" he nonchalantly interjects as he begins testing the patient's reflexes.

"Doctor Ramsey," she chides before being abruptly interrupted by a trauma nurse.

"Dr. Erikson, I think I hear a heartbeat, but it's low and slow." Tatum nervously nods, taking a few deep breaths.

"That's good enough for me," she kindly thanks the nurse. "Alright, team," she boldly orders, "Let's get her ready for a cesarean." She turns to a nearby technician. "Where the hell is my OB team?"

"They've been paged--"

"Page them again," orders Tatum.

"But, doctor--"

"Page them again," Tatum's tone becomes more stern as she starts grabbing surgical materials. Slipping on a scrub hat, she turns to look into a pair of familiar, crystal blue eyes. "When's the last time you did surgery, Ramsey?"

The tall provider sardonically chuckles. "It's been a while," he crosses his arms, "but, it's not happening right now--"

Tatum scoffs. "Let's get her prepped people. Move!"

"Dr. Erikson," Ethan hollers, a warning in his tone. "You will not be performing this--"

"Watch me." Tatum fervently assists the nurses and technicians in positioning the gravid body. "If you've got a problem, take it up with the chief. This is my call--"

"Already have," Ethan snidely rebuttals, "and it's my call." Tatum stops applying her surgical mask, slowly turning her attention to his towering frame. Her wide eyes slowly trace down from his face to the embroidery of his white coat: Dr. Ethan J. Ramsey, Chief of Medicine.

Tatum blinks her lashes in confusion. "Where's Dr. Banerji?"

"Not here," Ethan smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Now will you be reasonable?"

"Reasonable?" She feels the anger burning inside her as she fights back the stinging pain of tears. Her eyes glisten with earnest pleading. "Ethan," she beckons under her breath, "We could save a life."

Ethan runs his hand over his face, allowing his fingers to rest against his chin. "Tatum, I--"

"Please. Do this," she swallows deeply, her voice reducing to a whisper, "for me?" Ethan's gaze fixes on his former love, a flash of memories flood before his eyes leaving the pair in a palpable stillness.

"Nurse," he calls out from over his shoulder, "I need a size eight glove."

***

"You want me to--"

"I can do it."

Ethan and Tatum walk in silence to the waiting room to retrieve Karla Hogan's husband. Recognizing him instantly, Tatum invites him to follow him to a more private room to talk.

"Just--just say it, Dr. Erikson." Tatum stuns in her steps, slowly turning to face the tearful husband and father-to-be. "Please don't make me take one more step, one more second not knowing that the love of my life--that she, my Karla--" his voice falls into sobs.

"We--we did everything--" Tatum's voice runs hoarse as tears drip from her cheeks. She clears her throat. "Mr. Hogan, I--I--" A sudden tunnel of darkness clouds around her head, the room falling silent. She feels her heart begin to panic, thundering in her chest as her breathing becomes more shallow. She's had this difficult discussion before with family members; but death in the maternity ward is never something one should get used to.

Suddenly, Ethan gently puts a hand on Tatum's shoulder, a comforting touch that always brought her back to reality. She takes a few deep breaths, looking up at him. He gives a curt nod as he squeezes her shoulder, stepping forward to talk.

"Mr. Hogan, we did everything we could…"

Tatum slips off her scrub cap, letting platinum blonde wisps cascade down her face. All she can picture in her head is Karla, how she was full of hope this morning‐‐they both were. And in the blink of an eye

"... but thanks to this skillful doctor right here," Tatum is pulled from her thoughts by Ethan's words as he points to her. "--your newborn baby girl is waiting for you, recovering in our Neonatal Intensive Care Unit."

***

After leading the emotional father up to meet his daughter, Tatum turns on her heel, making her way back to her laboring patients in the birthing center. But, before she exits the NICU, she discovers Ethan finishing a conversation with one of the neonatologists. Their eyes meet.

“Proud of you today, Tate,” Ethan offers a crooked smile.

Tatum dramatically steps closer to Ethan, crossing her arms as she raises an eyebrow. “Pardon me,” she lifts a hand up to cup her ears, “but did you just say, ‘You were right, Tatum; I was wrong’?”

Ethan pinches between his eyes while his other hand rests on his hip. “I’m never wrong--”

“Today you were--” she jovial pokes at him.

“You got lucky--”

“And you’re still bitter--”

“‘Bitter’?” Ethan scoffs, “of you--?”

“That someone’s medical intuition rivals your own--”

“Dare to dream, Dr. Erikson, but we both know exactly what your intuition is capable of--” The moment the words left his lips, a painful apologetic look plagues Ethan’s eyes as he watches the stunned hurt flash across hers. A thick silence floods between them, both of them unsure how to recover from such a low-blow of a remark. Tatum stares at the floor, unsure if she should just walk away.

“Tatum, I--” she shakes her head, waving her arm to dismiss the inevitable apology. She just wasn’t sure when she would stop paying for the sins of her past.

“So,” she tries to change subjects as a mischievous grin grows across her face. "I missed the memo. You're my boss."

"I'm your boss," he chuckles, crossing his arms.

"Hrmmm," Tatum raises her eyebrows, turning towards the door as a silence falls between them, again. She motions for the automatic door to open.

"Hrmmm what?" Ethan questions, turning towards her as the doors slowly open.

"Oh, I was just thinking," she lowers her voice, placing her hand on his arm. Ethan bites his lower lip as his cheeks begin to flush. His eyes flutter down to her lips before drifting back to her gaze. He swallows thickly.

"A-About what?" His tone matches hers.

She giggles letting go of his arm. She makes her way through the automatic doors and back en route to her department. But, not before she calls out over shoulder in a dark, sensually husky voice: "It wouldn't be the first time--" she twirls on her heel to look at him one more time, giving him a wink and a knowing smile, "--sir."

***

@chemist-ana @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @irisofpurple @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @thefrenchiemama

#open heart #ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanfiction #pixelberry #choices OH #choices OPH #drunken drabbles

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fallenfurther · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - A social call

Chapter 3 - Jeff and Colonel Casey

Continuing with Jeff's recovery and relationships with the main characters in TAG. Sorry this one is a little later out than I planned. A flat move and no internet means I had to wait until I had time to sit in a coffee shop.

Chapters 1 and 2.

Enjoy!

***********

Colonel Casey signed herself into the rehabilitation centre for her first personal visit. She'd seen Jeff for official business, the GDF helping to re-establish the astronaut's living status as well as for the obligatory debriefs. The interviews had happened in one of the rehabilitation rooms here. The debrief of his eight years in space had taken a couple of days to complete as they had been required to work around his routine and energy levels. It had been a shock to see the astronaut so tired and struggling, but it was to be expected. She knew Jeff was on a strict routine and diet plan to help him with his nutritional deficiencies and regain lost muscle, though what it entailed she wasn't privy to. She'd wanted to visit earlier, but her position in the GDF meant she had been tied down with paperwork. Now she could finally sit down with her old friend and catch up properly. Heading down the corridor, she found his room and knocked. A short sharp military rap.

"Come in."

The voice was faint, but oh so familiar. She opened the door and peered in, excitement building inside her chest.

"I thought it was about time I paid the great space survivalist a visit."

A grin spread across Jeff's face as he pushed himself out of his chair. She crossed the room in a few strides and hugged the man. He embraced her back, though she didn't fail to notice how weak his arms were compared to the bear hugs she remembered. Her own arms had been reserved so as not to crush his delicate body. The positive was that he seemed stronger than he was when they'd first met which was pleasing, and she hadn't missed how her friend was much steadier on his feet. The need to pinch herself was still present. Seeing that footage and message had been hard, having already accepted the man's fate and moved on. The world would just have to adjust to having Jeff Tracy back.

"It's been too long." The man whispered in her ear, his deep baritones warming her soul in a way only a long lost friend could.

"It's only been two months."

"That was official business. Your lack of uniform tells me this is the social visit I've been waiting for."

Jeff was right and the smile on his face said he knew it. He'd always been this way, so sure of himself. It was what had gotten him so far, and probably why he was still here now. The confident stubborn man. Memories of days gone by, from when Jeff had first started putting International Rescue into motion, flooded her mind. She'd been present at that first meeting when Jeff had asked for clearance for his new venture. Valerie had been a newly appointed Captain, and it was one of her first major meetings. That was the day she'd heard about International Rescue and it had been incredible to see the legendary astronaut stand up and ask for permission to start the organisation. She'd hid her unease and suspicions and had viewed the plans he'd presented in the meeting. The secrecy aspect of the organisation had worried her most, not knowing exactly what was going to be flying around, not knowing who was involved or the training they would be put through. The committee had debated it thoroughly. Five weeks of research, consultations and consideration and International Rescue was given a three month trial, to be extended upon review.

"You won't regret this."

Jeff had promised Colonel Henson when he had been told the news. She'd been present to see the historic moment. The firm handshake that had happened at the end of the meeting as if to solidify and seal the deal. He'd been right. International Rescue had not disappointed and had gone beyond anyone's expectations. They were granted permission to operate. There were still some in the GDF that disagreed with the amount of secrecy surrounding International Rescue and the lack of regulation and control the GDF had over the organisation. Some of that had eased slightly now the location of Tracy Island was now known to the higher-ups, but there were still those that were suspicious. Rumours still passed around, claiming the GDF had a dummy location, that it was all a ruse to make everyone feel comfortable with the situation and they were keeping the Thunderbirds and their secrets elsewhere. There were just some things she couldn't stop. She had been put in charge of monitoring International Rescue. Once introduced, Jeff had maintained contact with her allowing them to develop a strong working relationship, which ultimately led to a close friendship. Though he had always visited her, she'd gotten to know some of the boys before the accident, though now she knew them all extremely well. The boys had allowed more information about International Rescue to be made public, and shared further information still with the GDF, allowing for better communication between the organisations. It felt much better knowing exactly where they were, even if she had no idea what secrets they hid on the island. Scott had blessed her with a tour, allowing her to see what they were happy to share. Seeing it all in-situ had been a sight to behold and something she'd never forget.

"Sorry it's been that way, but you know how it is at the top. There is always a new situation that needs your urgent attention."

Jeff chuckled, a sound that Valerie had forgotten and almost brought a tear to her eye. It pained her how small things about a person could slip from your mind over the years. The man before her really was legendary. He was an astronaut people would talk about for years to come. He was also a great friend, who had always supported her journey through the GDF ranks.

"I used to know. I'm a little rusty and many things have changed. I've got a lot of catching up to do. I thought some of the technology Brains used to think up was way out there, but some of the new gadgets I'm seeing and hearing about are beyond that. I'm feeling old. Old and left behind."

Valerie noticed the change in his face and the slight dimming of the shine in those blue eyes. Jeff was old, but there was more to this than that. Placing a hand on the man's shoulder she guided him back into his chair and knelt beside him.

"I'm feeling old at the moment." Jeff continued with a sigh. "I'm all creaky, tired and struggling to keep up. They say I should get better, that my body has adjusted to the Oort cloud and that it'll take a while to shift back."

"You were never the most patient man."

That brought a smile to his face, but his head fell into his hand.

"I've spent so much time alone that I can't stand being cooped up in here anymore! The boys and Mum visit but I have less freedom than I did out there. I want to go home. Even if it means subjecting myself to both my mother's constant doctoring, and her terrible cooking."

"Maybe the staff are trying to make sure you're strong enough to stomach your mother's food?"

"Ha! I wish! Nothing on Earth could prepare me for Mum's cooking. I am handling food well though and if I'm honest, Mum won't mess up my diet plan. She knows how much it could set me back."

Valerie moved her hand in slow steady motions over Jeff's back. There was nothing she could do to change the situation, but she knew Jeff needed to let it out. She knew he was putting on a brave face for his family, that only the staff and therapists would know of the real internal struggle happening in the man. Jeff had told her enough about his life and the boys to know he'd do anything to protect his family. Maybe, eventually, he let them be the ones to protect him.

"You'll get there, Jeff. You just need time."

The man sighed, his whole body deflating. He'd had plenty of time in the Oort cloud, far away from everything he cared about. Now he was home, he was still being kept away. She knew the boys were visiting Jeff but it wasn't the same as being home with them. Especially with International Rescue taking them away so frequently. Valerie still got a weekly update on International Rescue’s activity, and although she doesn't read the full reports anymore, she still understood the operation enough to know the toll that it takes on the operatives.

"How has it been, the last eight years, for International Rescue? What's it been like from an outside perspective? Has it worked? Have there been problems? Have you any suggestions?"

Valerie sat back and surveyed her friend. Talk about going straight for the tough topics. She knew he'd ask about her later, but right now his boys were at the front of his mind. She also knew she had to be honest. There was so much Valerie wanted to tell the man, yet today wasn't the right day. Today would just lead the man to worry unnecessarily about his boys. When he was stronger and could enforce change himself, she might raise the latest annual International Rescue report with him. The GDF were concerned, but now was not the time to go down the official route.

"It was tough at first, not everyone liked Scott taking over everything at once, especially as he took on Tracy Industries too. But they rose to the challenge and got the job done, they've made improvements and they communicate more with the GDF now. We still don't know everything about your technology but that was always the arrangement from the get go."

Jeff sighed. "I never expected them to be needed as much as they are. Have you noticed how exhausted they are? Do you know when they last went on holiday? I think it's too much for them."

Valerie steeled herself, knowing exactly how she felt and how much the Tracy brothers would disagree. Everyone knew those boys worked too hard, but they were smart and never broke the flight hour rules, often maxing it out but never going over. The GDF couldn't ground them, even if it was for their own good, especially as there was often no-one else to do the job. Lives were at stake and no-one wanted to be the one to make that call.

"I have noticed the dark circles under Scott's eyes and the way he seems to carry the world on his shoulders. I don't often see the rest of them but the past few years have been pretty intense. I would say they were due a break, if only the world would give them one."

The small smile on Jeff's face showed her she had said the right thing. The concern was still there but the steel in his eyes said he had a plan formulating. She wouldn't pry. Not yet. She was sure she would find out in due course.

"So, you're a Colonel now, and Commander of the GDF. Can't say I didn't see that coming, but there must be a story behind it."

Valerie grinned at her friend, finally on a safer topic. This was what she'd come here for.

"Well, there is, but it's not quite as interesting as yours."

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #jeff tracy #colonel casey #homecoming #gdf #social visit #post debrief catch up

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sanktnikolais · 4 years

Text

Shadow and Soul

A/N: guess who has another content again after like two months? KJAHSFLKHASDF

Have this Mafia au bc the Vincenzo energy in me is very strong rn and i wanted to write some chaotic/serious mafia au

Word count: 4701

CW: Violence

An attempt on the head of the Lantsov Family's life has occurred under their noses, and it's up to the Underboss and her Consigliere to settle things the clean way or the dirty way.

How Zoya could still find patience for the man in front of her was a mystery. But having more patience for the all-too-smiling Consigliere beside her was a skill she had acquired over the years, and as much as she wanted to strangle her lawyer companion, she couldn’t deny she was enjoying the look of rage on Anton Demidov’s eyes as he tried not to lash out his anger. The smug facade he was currently wearing wasn't able to keep the emotions from showing in his gaze.

The small restaurant they were cramped in was humid enough to dry up what’s left of her restraint from wanting to tear the furious look from the man’s face, but she strengthened her resolve. There were several other people dining in here with them, and it would be rude if she suddenly did something rather unlady-like to this gentleman in a suit. Besides, she did promise the infuriating blond that she would ‘be diplomatic for once’, as per his request.

Perhaps she could try to be.

“It’s a fair deal, dearest Anton,” said Nikolai to the Demidovs' caporegime, still grinning his usual crowd-winning smile. When his eyes cast down to Anton’s now clenched fist on the table, the glint of amusement in Nikolai’s eyes only became brighter. If there was something her Consigliere was good at, it was pushing another person’s buttons by merely smiling. “No more threats to the Lantsovs and no more operating the casino without our jurisdiction, and I will personally tell our enforcers to stop the assault on your family’s businesses. Possibly sprinkle a monthly cut from your profit into our pockets, too, no?"

Considering how Anton’s jaw twitched in annoyance only told Zoya that he didn’t like the deal at all. Having the upper hand over the Lantsovs meant being powerful enough to actually go against them, and considering that they were the most powerful among the families, it was a rather bold move to attempt murdering Alexander Lantsov.

Ever since the day the Lantsov head was openly shot at, along with plenty of their men in the streets of Os Alta, Zoya had considered the move as an act of war and broke any peace treaties between their families. She led the attack on the biggest casino the Demidovs had in Kribirsk, effectively shutting the place down and cutting the third of the family’s investments. The assaults continued for the next two weeks, even the smallest businesses didn’t escape their wrath, until the Demidovs were backed to the corner and forced to surrender.

If it were another circumstance, she would have stopped there. She knew they would have learned their lesson by that time. Yet the thought of failing to protect their chief because she hadn’t anticipated any attempts on his life that day only gave her enough reason to continue the attacks.

"I would suggest listening to him. Do him a favor, will you? He loves talking,” Zoya said with unexpected calmness. She leaned back to a more comfortable position in her chair, reaching up to remove the first button by her collar.

This must have brought the wrong impression on Anton's guards stationed by the far window to the left, and they were already reaching for their weapons from their holsters. She merely raised an eyebrow at them.

Panic seized Anton’s eyes as he turned to his guards. He pointed a finger at them. “You’ve frisked them, right?” he demanded. Even though he tried to sound very much authoritative, the slight tremor in his voice didn't go unnoticed by Zoya. But the guards seemed to be oblivious of this, and still nodded nervously. “Then why are you all acting hostile? Stand down.”

Zoya snickered silently. So much for being the one to lead the assassination attempt but was already panicking over the smallest movement she made. She itched for her gun, which was unfortunately dismantled and held by Anton's right hand man as per their no weapons rule during business talks. Her shoulder holsters felt impossibly light without its presence. Maybe it was time to stop the bullshit that was called 'talking' and just start the real line of action.

Patience, dearest Zoya, her infuriating Consigliere's voice echoed in her head. The way he was starting to rub off on her was terrifying. It'd be a good thing to be diplomatic for once.

"No need to be jumpy, Anton. It's just too humid in here." Zoya emphasized her statement by fanning herself with a hand. She heard Nikolai chuckle beside her. "Besides, it's not that I have any more weapons on me."

Come on, lash out at me, goaded Zoya in her mind. Give me enough reason to finally take you down where you stand.

Anton turned back to her and smiled tightly. "I'm aware of that, Miss Nazyalensky. But I can't blame my men for taking precautions, especially around someone who's known to be ruthless."

"I'm honored, sir, but we can't as much as do anything considering the number of your guards in here with us." She shrugged, gesturing to her right. "There's just the four of us."

Her eyes met the two lone guards of their own at the opposite side. Where they only brought the twins along with them for safety, was Anton Demidov’s unit of at least twenty men surrounding the place. She almost found it funny—he was the one to first make a threat over the Lantsovs and yet he was cowering in front of them.

Tamar made a face, gesturing crudely to the Demidov caporegime and making Zoya chuckle lightly. Her twin brother Tolya kicked her in the shin, but there was no denying the smile he was fighting to appear on his lips. Seeing their presence lightened the tense weight on her shoulders somehow, as she knew that they alone could take Demidov's men if things went south.

And considering the stubborn set of Anton's jaw and the fury in his eyes, blood will surely be shed tonight.

Zoya glanced around the room, silently counting how many of his guards were inside the restaurant with them. She let her eyes wander for a few moments, and she was able to count at least eight. There were probably a few more she hadn't seen, but her eyes catching a woman in a bright red overcoat was enough to make her wince and look back to Demidov.

"A rather powerful move," Nikolai said lowly, making her turn to him with a raised brow. There was a smirk playing on his lips as he continued to watch the other man, and it was a clear sign that he was quite enjoying seeing Demidov almost ready to explode. He leaned a bit closer to her ear. "It's really not the perfect time or place to take off your clothes, sir. But if you can make them squirm by doing just that, then be my guest. A little fun before the storm isn't so bad."

Zoya rolled her eyes, her foot connecting solidly to his leg. He let out a muffled wheezed, and he covered it up by clearing his throat when Anton gave him a weird look. Knowing Nikolai was already stressful enough, but having him as her Consigliere and hearing him do the talking most of the time was exhausting.

But he got things done without having to use guns or knives. Words were his weapons, and though he was often mild and considerate during negotiations, he still wielded his words dangerously when circumstances deemed it necessary.

"What do you say, Demidov?" Nikolai said, his grin returning. "It's a rather generous deal."

The table rattled as Anton's fist slammed down on it. "We will not be your family's lapdog," he growled through gritted teeth. If he had been able to hold in his rage, now he was full on acting on it, just like Zoya had expected him to do. "You think you're all so powerful and strong just because you're controlling this city, but not to me." He looked at Nikolai with utter disgust. "I'm surprised Alexander even cared for his bastard enough to appoint him as Consigliere out of all designations."

Something snapped inside Zoya, feeling her suppressed rage flare back to the surface, and she was already considering tipping over the table to the man's face. But a hand enclosed around her wrist from under the table, the touch warm and familiar for her to know it was Nikolai. He must have sensed her sudden want to resort to the worst way.

She risked a glance at him. A shadow had passed over his usual cheerful face, his eyes hard and empty as his jaw twitched in anger. Then a smile appeared on his lips a moment later, the sharp, wicked smile of a man who had reached the last straw of his patience.

"Are getting personal now, Anton?" Nikolai said, his tone still surprisingly calm. "I thought it was all business?"

"Oh, that's true. All business, Lantsov," Anton spat Nikolai’s name like a poison that stung his mouth. "And if I kill you right now, I can just report you for trespassing. It's still business, no? I'm just protecting my property."

Zoya raised an eyebrow. "Is that an open threat?" she said flatly. “Do tell me if it is so we can settle this the way I know we both wanted from the start.”

"Depends on how you put it." Anton gestured to the door. "And if you both are smart enough, then that means you know your only choice is to leave."

So the Demidovs still chose not to have a ceasefire between the families. It was exactly how she expected this night would go. Nikolai owed her a drink later.

"You're acting way too brash for a caporegime," said Zoya as she reached for the cup in front of her to take a sip of the leftover coffee from an hour ago. "Are you sure your family could handle another attack in any of your remaining businesses?"

Anton looked almost smug. Confident, even, as if he suddenly had the upper hand against them. Oh, how Zoya hated to ruin his bravado. "As you've said, Nazyalensky, there's only four of you. So you should watch that tongue of yours."

A sneer threatened its way to her lips, but she didn't dare let it show. She wondered if he would still have the same smugness later, when she finally demonstrated the 'ruthlessness' Anton liked to describe her with.

There was a tense silence around them, and if Zoya listened harder, she was sure she could hear the guards' heavy breathing even from ten meters away. She eyed the other exits—all guarded by Demidov's men. Even the twins' position to their right was at a disadvantage, they could be easily opened fire on if they weren't fast enough to take cover.

"Very well. It would not be a fair fight." She relented, making it sound as convincing as possible. She put the cup back on the table. "We will just leave."

The Demidov caporegime huffed but didn't say anything more. He leaned back on his chair, his triumphant smile never wavering. "I'm glad you're finally starting to think, Miss Nazyalensky."

Another wave of annoyance, and what she could sense as her suppressed rage resurfacing, washed over her. She wrinkled her nose in displeasure. They should have just ambushed the caporegime on his way here. It would have been much easier. Plus, they could even save time and sanity for not going through this 'civilized' negotiation. In their world where power was the only thing to protect you, you should never give a chance to your enemy to take it from you.

Eliminate and narrow down the list of your enemies.

It was now up to Nikolai whether they would go through it or just leave.

The Consigliere leaned back on the chair, his other hand reaching up to loosen his tie. There was a look of disappointment on his face, but his eyes said otherwise. He was already expecting this. "That was quite an exchange," he said with a shrug. Then he shook himself for a bit. "Wow, I think I need to use the restroom after all that. Do you mind if I go? Or should your guards come along to make sure I'm not doing anything out of the ordinary?"

"Just get on with it and leave. I should have known this meeting was useless from the start."

Nikolai feigned a hurtful look. "Oh, how harsh," he said dramatically. "But alright, your call."

The hand that was still around Zoya's wrist loosened, his fingers coming around until his forefinger rested on her pulse point. Warmth erupted from where his skin met hers, and she tried not to let it distract her from the message he was trying to say. He had held her like this far too many times, had even been in a much closer proximity than now when their situation needed them be, and yet her heart still threatened to leap out of her chest whenever he touched her.

Focus, her mind berated, and that’s when she felt it: his finger tapping on her skin twice. It was their go signal. They had made their own sign language over the past three years, when business talks and other matters got a bit out of hand and they needed to subtly communicate with the other. It was something that only the two of them knew of, and it definitely did wonders for them when words weren’t needed.

Zoya gave him a pointed glance sideways as he stood up and let go of her wrist. It was the look that said, I told you so, and she knew if they were somewhere else, Nikolai would have frowned and whined something back. But it wasn’t the time for it.

With one last squeeze to her wrist, he finally let go, straightening the lapels of his coat to show his disappointment on how the negotiation had gone. He cast one last glance to the Demidov caporegime before taking his leave and going to the restroom. Zoya let her gaze follow him until he disappeared around a corner.

Please don't be a moron and find it, she thought before standing up as well, reaching for his suitcase that was carelessly lying on the floor.

One of Anton's guards, which she recognized as his right hand man, approached the table. He had a skeptical gaze on her, like he was readying himself to defend his boss if ever she decided to suddenly do something.

She gave the man a cold smile, amusement bubbling in her chest when she saw him wince and look away to turn to his boss.

Zoya took the moment to glance at the twins and give them the smallest of nods. They immediately understood, with Tamar moving away from their spot to come nearer to the table. Tolya remained in his position, but he already had his hand braced on the holster around his hips.

"That Consigliere of yours," Anton started, making Zoya look back at him. His second was holding up the coat to him, and he turned to shrug it on back to his shoulders. "He really does love talking, doesn't he? It might be the reason he gets killed one day.”

As if I would let that happen. It made her eyebrows furrow, her gaze narrowing dangerously to the caporegime. He had been making a lot of subtle threats to them, and Zoya wasn’t letting it slide. Only one family would be walking out from this place tonight.

And it wasn’t going to be the Demidovs.

“Worry not, Anton,” said Zoya, her cold smile returning, “I’ll make sure to tell him that.”

“Tell me what?” Nikolai’s too cheery voice echoed a moment later, and Zoya turned to his direction and saw him approaching them. He had stripped off his long coat, leaving him in his shirt and tie. Her eyes went to the coat he was holding. The way it was folded on his hand looked enough for it to conceal something, and she could only assume he found it.

“Nothing of importance, dearest Consigliere,” Zoya mused, reaching for her own coat hanging on the chair’s backrest. “Just some gibberish, though I can tell you about it later.”

Nikolai chuckled. “I do hope it’s not something alarming,” he said. Then he stepped in front of her, his hand catching her wrist again to stop her from putting on her coat. Then with a small smile that softened his features, he murmured, “Let me.”

She let him take her coat from her hand, and gently, he helped her slip it on. To others, it would look like a normal sight; a man assisting his Underboss like any other members of the family would. But if one were to look closely, it was actually just an act to cover something up.

Zoya looked up at his eyes with mock respect when there was the familiar weight of a weapon being slipped back to her shoulder holster. Nikolai made a face in return.

I found it, he mouthed with a wince. Then he tugged at the lapels of the coat a bit roughly, as if to get back at her for doubting him, and it earned a glare from Zoya. He smiled innocently, then his hands came up to the back of her neck to free her hair that was caught up in the collar. She tried not to get distracted by his ministrations, but she found it hard when he reached her collar, fixing it down to make it presentable. They were too close, the act anything if not intimate, and her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers lingered a moment too long on the side of her neck.

Then she felt the soft brush of his thumb against her jaw; it was enough to stop her thoughts altogether.

But Nikolai only winked, a cheeky smile evident on his lips before he stepped back. Zoya wanted nothing more than to strangle him right then. But then again, it wasn’t the time for it. Perhaps later.

She regained her stoic composure, walking over to Anton Demidov who had been completely oblivious of the exchange. It was only out of respect that she still would end their meeting with a handshake. If there was something she refused to let go in her morals, it was respect.

Zoya held her hand out to Anton. The man was hesitant, but still took it anyway. “Well, I bid you farewell, Sir Demidov,” she said with a cutting smile, her grip tightening around his hand enough for him to look alarmed. “It’s a pleasure having the chance to talk to you.”

Then her other hand reached to her holster, grabbed the gun Nikolai had put there, and shot Anton Demidov in the leg.

The man crumpled down on the floor, a scream tearing from his throat as he clutched at his wound. Horror was evident in his gaze as he looked up at her. His right-hand didn’t have time to draw his weapon when another shot rang out from somewhere behind Zoya, hitting the man on his shooting arm, and he dropped to the ground as well. Anton’s several other guards with them started to spring to action, but it was the exact time that all the people dining in the restaurant stood up, drawing out their own weapons and surrounding the Demidov associates.

Outside, gunfire echoed as well. Then after a few moments, it went silent again.

Zoya looked around the expanse of the room. Anton’s remaining guards stood completely frozen in their places as dozens of guns pointed to their direction. She hummed in approval and looked over her shoulder, seeing Tamar still holding her gun to the right-hand man’s direction.

Thanks, Zoya mouthed to the woman, who in return tipped her head in acknowledgement.

“As I’ve said earlier,” she started, waving the barrel of her gun down to Anton’s face, “it would not be a fair fight.”

“What—what is the meaning of this?” Anton demanded, his voice quivering in both terror and pain. He tried to back away from Zoya, but someone had already stopped him with a foot on his shoulder.

She looked up and saw the woman who wore the bright red overcoat that made her eyes hurt, and Zoya gave her an unamused look. “Something a bit tamer next time, Genya?” she said. “It’s a bit overwhelming to look at. Maybe a maroon.”

Genya laughed lightly. “Of course, anything you say, sir.”

Zoya nodded in gratitude before she turned back to Anton, who was still on the ground. “This night could have gone well, you know? All we wanted was your approval for a ceasefire. But here you were, acting all too smug for a family whose reputation is almost down the drain and making empty threats that you have no power to do.” She stepped forward, jabbing her foot down the man’s injured leg and earning another scream from him. “Well, wasn’t it you who pulled the trigger on the Don? Now man up, take it like a champ.”

“How” —Anton wheezed out in pain— “how is this possible? My men have frisked you and your Consigliere.”

Nikolai appeared beside her, looking casual in his posture as if he had come to a reunion with some old friends. “Simple. You don’t check the customers coming into your business,” he explained. “Another civilian could enter the same restroom earlier before the Consigliere, and he could have slipped a weapon and taped it under the sink.” He shook his head with a dramatic sigh. “Only goes to show how shit your security is, by the way.”

The Demidov caporegime could only look at them in disbelief, his eyes going back and forth to Zoya and her Consigliere. Then a laugh escaped him, the loud, desperate kind of a madman. She almost pitied him. The feeling of being backed against the corner having nothing other than yourself to trust and lean on.

She would commend this man for fighting tooth and nail for his Family’s survival and reputation, and yet he had chosen the wrong way to do it by trying to assassinate one of the biggest Dons in the country and starting a war. There were some battles that were out of one’s reach and power, and it had been the Demidovs to take the risk and lose everything to their wrong decisions.

Anton continued laughing for another long moment, his breaths becoming more labored the longer he laughed. Then when it seemed that he finally ran out of air, he looked back up to her. If Zoya was expecting to see defeat in his eyes, then she was so wrong.

Because in them, she saw nothing but cold fury, the kind that brought a lingering feeling of dread in your chest. If she were some other person, she was sure she would have cowered back and let fear take over.

But that was before she knew what horrors the world they lived in now did to young and naive girls. Fear was one’s shadow, something they could never go against nor get rid of, so she learned how to wield it as her weapon instead.

“What are you going to do now? Kill me?” Anton said, another laugh escaping his lips. He had already gone pale from the loss of blood, but he continued. “Killing me would only make things worse. It’s not going to change anything.”

Nikolai pretended to consider a thought, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re right,” he said. “But I think I have an idea.” He stepped forward, and Zoya handed him her gun.

Without wasting another second, he pointed the gun to Anton’s other leg and pulled the trigger. The beginning of a howl tore from the caporegime’s throat, and he hadn’t even had the chance to fully voice out his pain when Nikolai shot him again on the shoulder.

Zoya blinked in surprise, the gears in her mind working as she looked back to Nikolai. Gone was the diplomatic look of the Consigliere, only the face of the Demon Prince remained, the same persona that terrorized the streets of Halmhend City for years. His eyes held a dangerous glint that she only saw him have for his sworn enemies.

“That’s not even the same number of bullets my father took when you tried to murder him in the open,” Nikolai said mildly. “But don’t worry, I made sure not to hit you anywhere critical. Killing you will get you an easy way out. I don’t want that.” He kneeled down beside Anton, leaning dangerously close to the man with the barrel of the gun planted on his chest. “I want you to see how your Family despises you because you couldn’t let go of your ego and accept that you’ve made a grave mistake. I’ve offered a ceasefire, but you didn’t take it. So I guess you’d rather take a few bullets, then?”

Through his labored breathing and pained state, Anton still managed to glare at the Consigliere. The man’s got determination, Zoya would give him that. But he had made the worst decision of having Nikolai as his enemy.

There was another tense silence, and then Nikolai was laughing lightly, patting the caporegime on the cheek. Just like that, he was back to the cheerful Consigliere persona. “I like this one,” he told Anton’s right-hand man who lay a few feet away from them, a look of fear in his eyes. “Fiery soul. Make sure he’s back to his feet in a few days, alright? I want to see what Irina would do to him.”

Zoya shook her head and watched as Nikolai stood up and handed back the gun to her. He looked back at her with a confused expression.

“What?”

“Nothing. Remind me again not to strangle you next time you do something brash?” She turned to their men who were still patiently waiting for their next order. “Get them out to the other side of the street. Make sure they’re easily seen by their colleagues when they arrive.”

Their men immediately did as they were told, shuffling out of the restaurant quietly as they dragged the Demidov Family’s associates to the streets. Tamar and Tolya waited for the both of them by the front doors.

“Was that even necessary?” Zoya asked the Consigliere, who shrugged in return.

“It’s only fair I’ve wounded him. It’s nothing compared to the men he’d killed in the ambush as we haven’t even taken any of his men’s heads.” Nikolai said, putting his long coat back on. “I have actually talked to Irina Demidov yesterday. She told me to get rid of him.”

Having a talk with the Demidov’s Underboss only meant bad news. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I’ll let them handle it. Besides, they twist the fact that we killed one of their caporegime against us. We both know their history.”

Zoya huffed. “Good thinking,” she said.

“There’s a reason why I am indeed a Consigliere, Nazyalensky,” said Nikolai, feigning a hurtful look. “I’m not all talk and no action.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” She paused when her eyes caught sight of the messed up knot of his tie. Her hands were already reaching to fix it before she could even realize what she was doing, and she heard his breath hitch in his throat. At least she wasn’t the only one who got caught off guard when the other was near.

She finally finished straightening his tie after a few more moments, patting down at his collar for emphasis. “There you go,” said Zoya. Her voice coming out a bit breathless than she intended was something she hadn’t expected from herself. “Now we’re even.” She stepped back, putting a bit of distance between them and looking anywhere but him. “Let’s get out of here before the Demidovs arrive to get their associates.”

***

And as the car sped into the distance some time later, the place where the restaurant the Demidovs owned was now nothing but ashes on the ground.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #king of scars #my writing #mafia au #LET'S GO #VINCENZO ENERGY IS STRONG #idk this isn't edited we die like soldiers #anyways #i've had this for like a week and i just finished it tonight #i said i wanted mafia au #so i wrote mafia au #have this mess from me #IM BACK THO #i hope ;-;#im a basic bitch and can't think of proper names #im sorry for that #T-T

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tisfan · 4 years

Text

Lucky Buck’s Magical Coffee Shop

For Fantasy Bingo Fill: Technomage

cowritten by @27dragons Art by @monobuu

“What even did you do to it?” Bucky demanded, peering in his cup. It was supposed to be a triple shot espresso with a custom blend lucky in love potion. One of his most popular drinks, and what practically kept him in business. Being a potioneer in the modern world was tricky business.

Back in his mother’s day, love potions were all the rage. But through legal pressure and the consent issues, that business was illegal. You could still get one if you knew where to look, but both the potion giver and the maker could be held accountable for overpowering someone’s will.

Bucky had learned to gently massage his skill, to influence the drinker in a positive manner, instead of having the potion get slipped in someone’s cocktail while they weren’t looking.

Lucky Buck’s was his shop. Potion-making was his game.

Also, he was a killer barista, and the caffeine base did a wonderful job of keeping the potions perky.

But what he was looking at right now was not Lucky in Love, but something that was a truly revolting shade of green.

Lucky, maybe. Green was still a lucky color. But, “I’m not sure what this would do to someone who drank it, Clint.”

“I didn’t do anything, it just came out that way,” Clint complained.

“Right. Okay,” Bucky said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Put out the temporary closed sign and I’ll call the repair guy.”

Not his favorite wizard in the world, either. Howard Stark was a good technomage, but he was a terrible person. The sort of guy who probably went looking for blackmarket love potions.

He dialed the number. It’d been years since he’d had to call Stark’s.

“Stark’s Wizardry; how may I direct your call?” The posh-sounding British receptionist sounded exactly the same as always.

“Emergency repairs, please, yes, I’ll hold,” Bucky said. He looked back at the green goop. “Here, put this next to my kit, I want to figure out what it does do.” Which could be important for disposal. He didn’t want to put, say, a sex pollen potion in the fire and spread it across half a city block.

“--fine, can I just--? Thank you! Stark here, what’s your emergency?” It had been a long time, but Bucky didn’t remember Howard sounding quite so... young.

“My potion dispenser is… churning out something dangerously not like what I asked for. It was cleaned two weeks ago, and my casting hasn’t been off, so I need someone to come take a look at it before I poison someone. Or lose all my income for the day.”

Bucky was watching outside the window as people leaned in to squint at the sign and then walked away. Each one, a customer who might not be back. God damn it.

“Yeah, those can be tricky, is it-- Tell you what, I’ll just pop over directly. Hang up the phone and step back a couple of paces. JARVIS, pull the return--” Stark hung up, mid-sentence.

Huh. Speedy service. That was better than Stark usually did. Most of the time, Bucky had to make an appointment.

But Bucky did as he was told. That was a new travel method, but he’d seen people do close-up teleporting before. Usually, however, it was to a designated travel pad. Bucky did a quick sweep of the area to make sure the guy wasn’t going to appear blended in with one of the chairs.

Only a few seconds later, there was an audible bamph of displaced air as a man appeared at the counter, only a few inches from where Bucky had just been standing, his hand resting on the top of the phone. “Great, okay, now where am I?” He turned around, stopping when he spotted Bucky. “Well, hello there, hot stuff. You call for a techno-wizard?”

That definitely wasn’t Howard Stark. Not unless Howard had mixed himself up some extremely dubious de-aging potions-- but no; Howard had blue eyes, and this man had wide eyes the color of really good whisky. Or dark honey.

“You’re not Stark,” Bucky said, instinctively. “Did he send you--” The espresso potion-maker started making weird hiccuping noises from the counter. “I did call. My potion dispenser made-- that.” He pointed at the cup full of green slime that was now bubbling over the sides of the cup. Yuck.

“Oh, wow, I haven’t seen that before,” the mage said. Before Bucky could stop him, he reached out and swiped a finger through the goo. He sniffed at it cautiously, then -- oh, yuck -- licked it off. “Coffee base? Yeah, okay, I can see it; the caffeine would interact with most of the common potion solvents to--” He kept talking as he edged sideways toward the espresso machine, almost as if it were accidental.

“...Of course, if you’re using chlorophyll, you’ve got to be careful to avoid Kenyan beans, especially a dark roast, because the particular quality of the oils those beans produce will--” He spun around and opened both hands, pointing them toward the sullenly-grumbling machine. He had sigils tattooed on his palms, Bucky saw, that were glowing a bright, eerie blue.

The light burst from the wizard’s hands and engulfed the espresso machine, which seemed to slump in dejection. “Yeah,” the mage said, leaning forward to peer through the light at the dispenser. “You’ve got a minor possession going on, here. When was the last time you had your wards updated?”

“Uh, the building doesn’t belong to me,” Bucky said. “I rent it. Hydra’s supposed to take care of all the warding, it’s in my rental contract. Every six months, I’m told.” Although come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Sitwell in almost a year now. “I can check my records -- usually the guy comes in for a lunch on the house, which I’m allowed to back bill against my rent.”

“Oh, Hydra,” the mage said knowingly. “Yeah, they’re pretty notorious for skimping on their wards, I’m afraid. I’m surprised you haven’t called me before this.” He puttered around the espresso machine while he talked, etching colored lines in the glowing globe around it.

Bucky watched, almost spellbound, as the man worked. He had long, quick, clever fingers and a way of talking to the espresso machine like he believed it was alive. Also, he kept bending over to check things, and the rearview was to die for.

“So, you’re Howard’s-- what, protege? I’ve never worked with anyone else.”

“What?” He glanced up, startled, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no, Dad never wanted to admit I existed, half the time. He didn’t like that I’m not very traditional about my spellwork, nevermind that it’s twice as effective.” He put his hands on either side of the espresso machine and his palms glowed bright blue again. It looked almost like it was pushing the magic and light through the lines he’d laid down, until the whole thing was nearly too bright to look at--

And then the lines of light broke away, tumbling off the espresso machine and reforming into an imp, no taller than Bucky’s knee. “Go on,” the wizard told it. “Off with you.”

The imp hissed at him, which didn’t seem to phase him at all, and then disappeared with a soft pop. “Right,” the mage said as the last of the glow faded. “Give it a try now.”

“Right,” Bucky said, staring at the spot where the imp had been. You always heard about those sorts of things, but he’d never actually seen one. “Uh, yeah, let me get a new cup.” He grabbed a mug, ground beans from his house blend and tamped them. Two drops from the Essence of Luck and one from Hearts into the bottom of the cup.

Steam hissed over the beans, and Bucky counted in his head. Twenty-six seconds. Pretty good. The espresso had a nice crema on it, and when Bucky added the steamed milk, he drew a little heart and arrow through it.

“Looks much better,” Bucky said.

“Smells fantastic,” the mage agreed. “Just a little fruity. Almost like... blueberries? No, plums.”

“It’s a lucky in love spell,” Bucky said. Obviously, he could drink it, but potions never worked on their makers. It was some sort of rule of three; Bucky had to give out in the world to get back. “Not a big one, of course. Just increases the possibility of meeting someone, or having it work out, or having a good date. It’s my second best seller.”

“Oh? What’s the best, then?”

Bucky rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “Money for Nothing,” he said.

The wizard laughed. It was a gorgeous laugh, rich and full, and made his eyes crinkle at the corners delightfully. “Yeah, I probably should have guessed that.” He reached out and picked up the espresso cup. “I’d rather have love, myself.” He turned the cup around in his hand carefully, then poured the coffee into his mouth, the foamy point of the arrow first, like it was leading the way down into his stomach. “The name’s Tony, by the way.”

“Bucky,” Bucky said, offering his hand. “Natural Potions master, and barista.” Natural was a title that was rapidly giving way; magic was diluted enough in the blood that most people were degreed. Not that, magically speaking, it mattered all that much. The only time a client really needed to have a Natural was for something custom, or complicated. Anyone with enough study and a few drops of magical blood could brew basic potions.

Tony took Bucky’s hand; his grip was firm without being obnoxious, and the tattoo on his palm was just a tiny bit warmer than the skin around it. “Glad to meet you, Bucky.” He glanced down at the espresso cup he still held in his other hand, then set it down with a faint smile. “I’d be even gladder if you agreed to go to dinner with me.”

Bucky knew his own magic. He couldn’t be affected by it, but he could be… well, he could be someone else’s match. Huh. That had never happened before.

“Uh, yeah. I… I think I’d like that.”

#fantasy bingo #winteriron #magical coffee shop

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

On Your Six, Chapter 2

And thus we come to another day, another chapter.

Day 2: Stealing Hoodies for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Toes

Tai rolled in Sunday with a brisk breeze and a hint of last night’s rain following him. The awkward timidness he’d had, had evaporated quicker than the puddles outside, burned away into steely determination as he got right down to business. “Alright, so, how do you want me?”

Qrow nodded to his bed, the recliner having been pushed up alongside it. His kit was sitting on the nightstand. “Take off your shirt and lie down.”

“Gee, at least buy me dinner first.”

He supposed he walked right into that one.

“Hah. Let’s see if you have any jokes left after we pass the fourth hour.” He strode over to his chair, fetching a roll of paper towels on his way. “I told you we’d be at this for a while. Trust me, you’ll be glad to be in a more comfortable position.”

Qrow had calculated it. He’d have six sessions per letter. At eight to ten hours per session, he’d have a range of 48 to 60 hours per design. It seemed like a lot of time, but drawing on paper wasn’t quite the same as drawing on people. Paper didn’t need potty breaks, for example, and it tended to stay stationary the entire time. Add on to the fact this was easily the biggest project he’d ever undertaken, and he knew he was going to need every second he could get.

At least I won’t be enduring it alone, he thought as he watched Tai kick off his shoes and shirt and climb onto the bed. Qrow poured the alcohol onto one of the paper towels, and as he dabbed at the other’s skin, he noticed the face the other man was making. “Sorry, guess it’s a little strong.”

“It’s not that.” Tai said, rubbing his nose. “Uh, not to be your maid or anything but, you really need to wash your sheets.”

For a split second, Qrow was offended. Then the realization hit. “Oh. You’re smelling the ink.” He indicated the row of bottles organized in the case. The only one he’d need today, the black, was sitting next to his rotary machine. “I mix it with my own pheromones. It helps neutralize the stench.”

The omega reached for the little bottle, giving it a whiff. His eyebrows shot up and suddenly, he was staring at it like it held the meaning of life. “That’s… incredible. But won’t that give me away?”

“Not when your RO can’t smell her way out of a canteen.” They were all betas. Being the neutral dynamic meant there was no risk of ‘going soft’ on their parolee like an omega might, nor get over-protective like an alpha absolutely would. But it also meant that after Qrow finished relining the tattoos, the dramatic shift to Tai’s scent would be almost undetectable. “And if she does notice, just tell her you’re trying out a new perfume.”

“That smells like matchsticks and blueberries?”

“You’ll be fine. You’re good at improvising.”

As Tai eased himself back down, he finished sanitizing his back, then moved on to getting himself ready. He double-checked the machine, made sure the parts were in place and the wire running back to the outlet was untangled and slack. Taped the paper copy of the design over the edge of his nightstand and uncapped the ink bottle. “So, this is how this works.” Qrow said as he pulled on his gloves, “You need to be as still as possible. We’re gonna have a five-minute break every hour, give you a chance stretch and move around. We’ll stop a bit longer half way in or so to eat. But if you need me to stop for any other reason just let me know. And uh, fair warning – when I start tattooing over the letter itself, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Tai nodded. “Got it.”

“Okay.” He dipped the needle and turned on the pen, the quiet buzzing filling the room. “Here we go.”

The moment needle met skin, he felt muscle tense under his hand. Spotted the way Tai’s toes curled in his socks and his face screwed shut. Qrow continued on slowly as he looped one line from the top of the S and connected it to down the middle, then did it again from the bottom part of the S. By the time the S had turned into an 8, the omega had relaxed again, sighing softly. He took that as a sign to continue and started coloring in the new side.

Hour one passed in complete silence.

“So, how’s it looking?” Tai asked, swiveling his head around. If he tried any harder, he might become an owl.

Qrow watched him from the stove. “Most of the line art on the top is finished.” He turned on the burners for the kettle and pot of water. “Should be fine to get the rest done in a few hours.”

“I can’t believe how fast it’s going.”

“Yeah well, this is the easy part.” He opened the pantry, eyeing over the options. “Wait until we get to coloring. I have to switch between needles for shading and clean between them.”

There was a dragging noise as one of the dining room chairs was pulled back. “I’m sorry it’s so much work. We don’t have to do all that, if you don’t want.”

Qrow was grateful only his shelves could see his scowl. He breathed out slow, pulled down the pork-flavored ramen packets, saying casually as he went back to the stove, “I mean if you’re too scared to keep going…”

“I didn’t say that! I’m just trying to be nice.” Tai grumbled the last past.

I don’t need you to be nice to me! Frustration welled in him, but he forced it back down. Getting angry wasn’t going to help. Even if this extremely complacent, easily guilted Tai made him want to go out and burn down every Gods’ damned reformatory there was. “Forget about it. I’m too much of a perfectionist to half-ass my work anyways.” He tried to brush off. But now Tai had that kicked puppy look that told him he was feeling bad, which only made Qrow feel bad in turn, so he deflected instead, “I mean, unless it’s too much for you. You’ve been quiet. Is it hurting that bad?”

“Oh, no it’s fine. I, uh,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t want to distract you.”

“You won’t.” He cracked the bags in half twice, tearing open the pack. “And it helps pass the time.” He dropped the ramen noodlesinto the water that was just starting to bubble and got the mugs down for tea, absolutely refusing to look at the other lest he read all over his face just how much he missed talking to him.

“Well… besides illegal tattooing in the tiniest apartment known to man on the shady side of town, what else have you been up to?”

The kettle was picked up just as it began to whistle. Like the cups filling with water, Qrow opened his mouth and let the words flow out just as easy.

As evening approached, another storm blew in. Rain drops smattered against the window every time the wind picked up, drowning out the noise of his pen. Qrow had rearranged his furniture, putting the recliner and nightstand in opposite positions so he could work on the lower half of the design in the 8. His focus was completely on the coastline coming to life over tanned skin.

“Remember that time we snuck out your window so we could put all those plastic rats on Professor Port’s porch for April Fool’s Day?”

Well, maybe not completely.

Qrow snickered. They had camped out in the bushes until dawn, just so they could take the TA’s picture when he came out to get his morning paper. “His face was priceless.”

“Not sure the punishment was worth it though.” Tai bemoaned.

“It was only a week’s detention.”

“For you. I got three month’s grounding on top of it.”

He reinked his pen. “Which you immediately broke by coming to my house every day.”

Tai took the brief pause as a chance to scratch his nose. “I never would have got caught if dad didn’t go home early that one time.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. My ears are still ringing from that lecture.” He flipped back on the pen and continued working on the islands that would split the sea from the sky.

The omega cleared his throat, deepening his voice just enough it was an almost disturbingly perfect imitation of his father, “‘If you don’t want to land yourself into juvie, then you’ll stop leading my son into a life of delinquency.’”

Qrow grinned, continuing for him and really hamming it up, “’Don’t you know my delicate boy’s future depends on finding a proper and upstanding alpha?’”

“He didn’t say delicate.” But Tai was laughing with him.

“Might as well have.” It wouldn’t have been too off-base for the Xiao Longs. They’d always been the traditional, overbearing types, trying to jumpstart every little bit of their only son’s future in every possible avenue. When they’d been young, it always seemed like Tai was going to some lesson or appointment. Swimming. Woodworking. Jeet Kune Do. It had been so excessive it had given his own mother ideas – but at least she let Raven and him choose what they wanted to learn.

After looking through the primordial alpha courses, Raven had chosen fencing.

Qrow had wanted to go with her but there was nothing like that in the omega pamphlets he’d been given. In the end, he kicked his feet all the way to his first few art lessons.

His dad had been pretty ticked off they’d wasted the money when, a few years later, puberty had Qrow shooting up past six feet and presenting as an alpha.

But that was nothing compared to the nuclear war that went off when, just shortly after his fourteen birthday, the Xiao Longs discovered Tai was an omega. The lessons stopped and the strict rules started. No going out past seven o’ clock. No cursing. No dating. No kissing. No sex. And especially, no alphas in the house. Ever.

By the time Tai was fifteen, he’d already broken every single one of them.

Qrow, who hadn’t exactly been an angel himself, thought it was hilarious and maybe encouraged him a bit more than he should have. But honestly, what did anyone expect of either of them? After being caged in like a defenseless pup, he was finally allowed break free and be a little reckless. Meanwhile, Tai refused to be shoved into that same cage, smashing through the doors all on his own. They’d been quite a pair, back in the day.

Nostalgia hit him in a wave. “How are your folks doing these days?”

“They’re fine. Dad’s started a new garden. And Mom’s been talking about renovating the old cabin house we used to vacation at. Said it would be a good place for the girls to enjoy. I was gonna help but…” Tai trailed off, his eyes glazing over a bit. “They wrote to me a few times while I’d been…. yanno.”

Something bitter built in his chest. A long-forgotten fury that had weighed on him when his mother had likewise been ripped from their family to stay at a reformatory and the only comforts he’d got was from the Xiao Longs reassuring him she’d come back as a ‘better omega’. “I’m certain they were just bursting with encouragement and support.”

“Definitely isn’t winning any motivational speech awards.” He joked humorlessly.

There was a quiet lull. Qrow took it as a chance to re-ink and stretch out the crick stiffening his fingers.

As he lowered the needle once more, Tai spoke up, hesitant. “What about you? Heard from your family at all?”

He frowned, knowing there was only one of those two people he actually cared to hear about. He indulged him regardless. “Well, you know my old man. Probably still doesn’t even know I’m gone.” He tapped his pen down, drawing the m-shapes that were meant to be a couple of gulls flying away in the sky. “As for Raven, haven’t seen her for years. Not sure she could find me.” When he paused to survey his work, he couldn’t help but think that the shapes really could have been any birds. “Even if she could, doubt she’d want to.”

The kicked puppy look was back. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Qrow lied, as if the last argument he and Raven ever had wasn’t entirely about Taiyang. But he didn’t need to know about that.

“You left? Raven you can’t leave!”

“Don’t growl at me. And anyways, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is Tai’s your mate. You guys have a daughter!”

“And that means I’m bound to him for life? We made a mistake! We were dumb kids. It happens.”

“So you just pack up your shit and tell him ‘good fucking luck’? He loves you! How can you act like that doesn’t matter?”

“…”

“Well?!”

“Really, little brother?”

“Wh-”

“If you want to go and play house with him, be my guest. But don’t project your feelings onto me. This is my life. My choice.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, I guess throwing people out of your life is a fucking choice. Just don’t be surprised when you get the same in return.”

“Are you seriously-”

“Get out. And until you get your head out of your ass, don’t bother coming back!”

Qrow taped down the bandage over Tai’s back, the antibiotic cream he’d spread along the new tattoo squishing against the adhesive. He ran through the aftercare steps almost subconsciously. “Keep this on until you go to bed. When you do take it off, wash it with warm water and soap. Do that a few times a day tomorrow and the next day too. If anything seems wrong, just call me.”

“Got it.” Tai reached for his shirt. At least he’d had the foresight to bring a button up. As he pulled it on, he gave Qrow a crooked little smile that made him look adorably boyish. “Same time next week then?”

“Uh, yeah.” He slipped off the bed, making a great show of looking for the other’s shoes. His cheeks felt a little less hot by the time he was returning to the bedside with them. “We’ll have to work on the U next. I’ll keep sending you designs, but a little direction would help.”

Tai slipped into his shoes, getting to his feet. “I don’t really have the eye for this kind of stuff. Just pick something easy.”

“Feel like I’m having a case of déjà vu here.” Qrow huffed, tapping a finger to the center of Tai’s chest. “This is your body Tai, not mine. So could you please put just a mite bit more effort into something you’re gonna have to wear the rest of your life?”

The other’s eyes widened before he looked away. He made an aborted motion towards his neck, fell short, and worried the corner edge of his collar between his fingers. “Could you do words?”

“Yeah.” He replied haltingly, taken aback by the sudden shift. “I’ll probably want to craft stencils to keep the script nice though – and no, it’s not hard.”

Tai nodded, another one of those not-quite smiles on his face. “Then I think I do know what I want for this one. I’ll send you some pictures later tonight.”

“Well… good! See was that so hard?”

“Immensely.” He answered, laying it on thick as honey.

Qrow jabbed him in the shoulder. “Don’t oversell it prima donna. You should start heading home, unless you’re planning on doing a rendition of Singing in the Rain out there.”

Tai spared a look to the window. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” The sky had darkened with the setting sun, making the already heavy clouds appear thick and ominous. Rain battered against his window at a continuous rate. The minute the omega left the complex, he was going to be soaked. “Think this’ll be okay?” He waved vaguely to his left shoulder where the tattoo began on the other side of.

“Mm, probably. But I guess a little extra cover wouldn’t hurt.” He crossed over to his little box of a closet, rummaging through the sparse selection. “This’ll work. It’s a bit oversized for me, so it should be perfect for you. Here.”

He snapped the black hoodie off its hanger, tossing it. Tai caught it. “You’re sure?”

“What are you gonna do to it? Dye it pink?”

“Well now that’s a thought. It’d match your eyes.”

“My eyes aren’t pink!”

Tai’s laughter was muffled in fabric as he gingerly slipped the hoodie on, being as mindful as possible of his back. By the time his head popped back out, his hair was all mussed up.

It was unfairly cute and Qrow tried very hard not to think about it as he walked him to the door.

Tai stepped into the hall, then paused, turning back to him. He reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey uh, thank you. For all this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Qrow was pretty sure the touch was electric, because he was suddenly paralyzed. How he even got his jaw to work was a miracle in and of itself. “Don’t mention it.”

The omega hesitated, as if he wanted to argue, but only said, “Sure. I’ll see you soon Qrow.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, but it was long after Tai had left the hall that he finally found the strength to close the door, slumping against the wood with a pitiful groan.

He thought he was over this. He should be over this. He wasn’t a lovesick teen anymore and this wasn’t a romantic comedy where after a bunch of wild, misleading antics, everything came together in the end. He’d lost his chance – twice over apparently. It was useless to try now.

So why did his stupid, pathetic heart still yearn?

“Come on Qrow.” He knocked his head against the door, hoping to rattle some sense into himself. “You did this for six years. You can do it again for six months.”

As he trod his way back to his bed, falling into it only to realize it smelt like Tai and would continue to every Sunday for weeks, he burrowed his head in his pillow and screamed.

Six was becoming a very unlucky number for him.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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lifeofresulullah · 3 years

Text

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): His Youth, Trade Life, His marriage to Hazrat Khadijah

The Kaaba is Restored and the Prophet Acts as a Judge

The Master of the Universe (PBUH) was 35 years old.

During this time, the Quraysh had decided to tear down the Kaaba’s walls so they could renew them. Nevertheless, the floods that resulted from years of pouring rain had corroded this structure that was not sturdy to begin with. Since the Kaaba was roofless at the time, the rains had affected its base and caused the building to crumble.

The last great flood had eroded the Kaaba completely. This condition had awoken feelings of fear and worry in the Meccans.

In the meantime, another incident took place; a woman lit a fire in the temple mount (Harem). The jolting sparks from the ember caught the Kaaba’s curtain and caused it to burn.

And when a treasure from the Kaaba was stolen, the Meccans were determined to execute their plan immediately.

A Ship Loaded with Construction Materials

The Qurayshis were consulting with one another on which materials they should use to reconstruct the Kaaba.

In the meantime, a Byzantian ship that had set sail from Egypt to Jeddah was found stranded in a location that was close to its destination.

The Quraysh sent a committee to the ship’s spot upon hearing this news. The ship was loaded with soft white stone, wood, beams, and steel; they were materials that the Quraysh had been looking for and had not been able to find till then.

The committee reached an agreement with those on the ship and purchased the timber from them. In addition, they guaranteed the merchant on the ship that he would be able to freely enter Mecca and sell his goods without having to pay tariffs since the Meccans used to collect tithes from those who sold trade goods in their city.

Furthermore, a Byzantine architect by the name of Bakum was found on the ship and they reached an agreement that he would reconstruct the Kaaba. According to these terms, Bakum would reconstruct the Kaaba’s walls, and a craftsman, who lived in Mecca and was of Coptic descent, would be involved with the carpentry.

The Apportionment of the Walls

The reconstruction of the walls of the Kaaba was divided among four tribes through drawing lots. According to this, Abd-Manaf and the Sons of Zuhra would have the Kaaba’s front and its side with the door; Abduddar, Asad and the Sons of Adiy would have the side facing Damascus (the side of Hijir, Hatym); Sham, Jahm (Jumah), and the Sons of Amir would have the space in between the Yemen corner and the corner where the Hajarul Aswad would be placed; Mahzum and the sons of Taym were given the construction of the Yemen side which was adjacent to Safa and Aryad.

The Shaking of Mecca

Every tribe demolished their designated side. They descended all the way down to where Hazrat Ibrahim laid the foundations. At that point, they saw green stones which had all been fused with one another.

Their intention was to go further down; however, they were unsuccessful. When someone shook these green stones while trying to extract them, they all suddenly saw Mecca shaking as if it were experiencing an earthquake. Everyone began to panic and got scared. Afterwards, they understood that they were not allowed to dig further; thus, they were content with what they had excavated.

The Tribes Disagree

Everyone was carrying rocks and putting up walls for their designated side. The building had risen all the way to where the Hajaru-l-Aswad was going to be placed. However, a disagreement broke out because each tribe wanted to position this holy stone in its place. Every tribe believed that they were most deserving in this matter. At a time in which every tribe was a bigot, which tribe would want another to get this honor? The issue escalated; the arguments and the controversy hardened so much that they swore they would fight one another.

There was a chaos and a clash was expected to take place at any minute. If a clash was to take place, then many people would lose their lives and many commodities would perish.

A solution had to be found.

The Qurayshi tribes waited for four to five days without putting a single stone into the Kaaba’s walls. Afterwards, they gathered at the Masjid Haram (Mosque) once again. They spoke and argued with one another.

During this time, there were some individuals who suggested that the tribes compromise/reconcile.

The Offer that Secures a Compromise!

While a bloody battle was expected to break out at any moment, Huzayfa bin Mughira, who was a well-known individual, one of the oldest men in the Quraysh, and known as Abu Umayya, proposed the following solution:

“Oh, Qurayshis! Appoint the first person who comes through this door (he pointed to the Bani Shayba’s door) as the judge in this disputed matter so that he can bring an end to this.”

The tribes accepted Abu Umayya’s unexpected proposal without hesitation.

“Muhammad-The Trustworthy and Faithful One- Was Coming!

All eyes were now on the door of Bani Shayba.

Who was going to come and how was this dispute going to be solved? How was this going to be settled without hurting any of the tribes’ feelings?

Everyone’s gazes were filled with curiosity as they looked attentively towards the Mosque’s aforementioned door.

Somebody is seen at the gate!

They immediately noticed and recognized his unique height, build, and dignified walk from afar and shouted with happiness: “He is Muhammad, the Trustworthy One! We will agree with and consent to his ruling.”

Yes, he was Muhammad-al –Amin (Muhammad-The Trustworthy, the Faithful One). He was an honest individual who had earned everyone’s trust.

For this reason, the glances that were filled with curiosity were immediately transformed into looks of happiness because they were all undoubtedly certain that he would issue a fair decision.

Of course, the arrival of our Master (PBUH), who never stumbled in making the most appropriate decision, was not a coincidence. He would affirm his ability to think deeply, before his Prophethood, with the ruling that he was about to give.

The Quraysh explained the situation to him.

Our Master’s (PBUH) mind was as clear and clean as his heart was. He did not delay in providing an appropriate answer; he issued an order:

“Quickly bring me a cloth!”

hey immediately brought one and according to a narration, this cloth was Walid bin Mughira's garment. According to another narration, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) used his own rida in this situation.

The Master of the Universe (PBUH) spread this cloth out on the ground.

Everyone’s stares, from young to old, were focused on our Holy Prophet (PBUH). What was he going to do with that cloth?

Their curiosity did not last long. Our Beloved Prophet (PBUH) placed the Hajaru-l-Aswad on the middle of this cloth and said, “Have someone from each tribe hold a corner of this cloth!”

They followed directions and lifted the cloth that was holding the Hajaru-l-Aswad to the location where the latter was to be placed.

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) then fulfilled this honor by placing the Hajaru-l-Aswad in its place with his own hands.

Afterwards, they began building the wall and completed it within a short time.

With his decision, which was a work of Divine benefaction, Allah’s Messenger (PBUH) was able to prevent a bloody battle from taking place among the tribes.

With this decision, our Beloved Prophet (PBUH) proved that he had a more well-directed point of view, a stronger sense of judgment, and a higher intelligence (that was excessive) than those who were much older and experienced than him and that he testified to a Divine power.

According to Hazrat Ibn-I Abbas’s narration, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) placed the Hajaru-l-Aswad in its location on a Monday.

THE PROPHET SUMMONS HAZRAT ALI

The Master of Masters (PBUH) was 36 years old.

It was 607 AD.

A harsh drought and famine began to appear in Mecca.

Most families were in a miserable state as they were struggling to get by and Abu Talib’s family was one of them.

Our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) heart was like a fountain of compassion and mercy. He never forgot favors that were done for him. He never wanted to leave appreciation that had been shown to him unrequited; he possessed such a beautiful and incomparable nature.

Now, there was somebody who was having difficulty with his livelihood. Someone who did everything he could to help our Holy Prophet (PBUH)… someone whose compassionate wings our Holy Prophet (PBUH) had been under since his childhood: Abu Talib….

How could he be comfortable and not help his uncle who was having difficulty in earning a living?

He immediately took action. He ran to his other uncle, Hazrat Abbas, who was well-off, and described the situation to him. He explained that it was necessary for them to extend their helping hands to Abu Talib, who was writhing in hardship so that they could reduce his burdens even if it was in a very small amount.

Hazrat Abbas happily accepted our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) offer and they both went to see Abu Talib.

Their aim was to slightly reduce the number of the many individuals in his home; at least, they would lift some of the custodial responsibilities from his shoulders.

Abu Talib was pleased when they informed him of their intention. Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) took Hazrat Ali (who he had named himself), and Hazrat Abbas took Hazrat Jafar under protection.

At that time, Hazrat Ali was either four or five years old. At this age, it was an incomparable privilege for him to be under the custody of the Master of the Universe who decreed, “I have been sent to perfect good manners”. From that day forward, he would be disciplined by our Holy Prophet (PBUH) and would immediately believe in Allah when he was invited. At the age of nine or ten, Hazrat Ali had attained the honor of being the first child to become a Muslim.

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Destiny Has Other Plans |Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Chapter 2

Pairing: Loki x OFC

MASTERLIST IS HERE

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him. He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim. An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond. Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds. But it doesn’t mean he has to like it. A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love. Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life. A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them. Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

This Chapter: One month has passed since Alexis and Loki “met” at the bar, Loki has moved on but is confronted with harsh reality of Alexis and the consequences of his cavalier attitude towards relationships, hookups, and birth control. He does not react well.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

One Month Later

“Dr. Randall?” Rachel, Alexis’s receptionist, called out.

Alexis’s head snapped up from her desk, where she fell asleep between appointments.

“Yes?” She smoothed back her hair behind her ears and took a sip of her third cup of coffee of the day.

“Your 2 o’clock is here. The Masons? Can I show them in?” Rachel gazed at her boss with worry. Alexis never napped during the day and stopped drinking caffeine by 11 a.m.

“Yes, please.” Alexis stifled a yawn before composing herself.

The rest of her appointments dragged and she pushed her last appointment out the door rather than allow the Clarks to linger like they do after most sessions. Alexis wanted nothing more to go home and crawl into bed. And then her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered with a weary tone.

“Tough day?” Hannah asked on the other end. One of Alexis’s few friends.

“I am so tired. And hungry. Tired and hungry.” she groaned.

“Well then, let’s make dinner a quick one. You are still meeting me?”

“Shit! I completely forgot. I don’t understand what is going on with me. Give me five minutes and meet me at the diner down the street?”

“Deal. I’m already almost there. Meet me inside.”

Alexis straightened her desk, grabbed her purse and headed out the door. Hannah was waiting in a booth inside as she slid in.

“I waited for you to order.” Hannah commented.

On cue, the server appeared.

“I’ll have the mac and cheese bites and the bacon cheeseburger with fries.”

The server wrote everything down, nonplussed, while Hannah stared at her friend. “Anything to drink, hun?”

“Strawberry milkshake. Oh, and a Diet Coke.”

“Got it? And you?” The server turned to Hannah.

“House salad with grilled chicken, dressing on the side. And water with lemon.”

“Thanks, hun.” The server grabbed the menus from Hannah, walking away.

Hannah leaned across the table. “That’s some order.”

“I told you I was hungry.” Alexis settled into her seat.

“If I didn’t know you so well, I would say you’re pregnant.” Hannah commented off hand.

Alexis froze, staring at Hannah with wide eyes. Hannah giggled.

“But Eric broke up with you and you’re always so careful with birth control.”

The blood drained from Alexis’s face as she flashed back to that stupid encounter in the bathroom with Loki. She scrambled through her purse, digging out her Filofax, flipping the pages until she saw the note a few weeks ago.

“Fuck! No, no, no, no, no…” She cradled her head in her hands as the server returned with their drinks.

“But you’re on birth control?” Hannah grew quiet.

“I was having some issues, so on advice of my doctor I stopped before trying an alternative. Eric and I were using condoms. Not that we were having sex at the end.”

“So no problem…” Alexis glared at her friend with tear brimmed eyes. Hannah stopped speaking.

Alexis’s hands twisted on top of the table. “There was an… encounter. When Eric and I broke up.”

Hannah let loose a low whistle. “Who would have guessed that uptight little Alexis was secretly a harlot? Details.”

Alexis’s cheeks burned red. She told the sordid tale of meeting Loki at the bar, to sex in the bathroom, and Loki’s disappearance.

“THE BATHROOM?!” Hannah yelped, wrinkling her nose.

Alexis shushed her. “Not my proudest moment, Hannah. And keep your voice down.”

Hannah leaned back against the red vinyl booth, taking in that Alexis, the most dependable, responsible person she knew, fucked a guy. Not just any guy, but Loki in the bathroom of a seedy bar.

“Say something, Hannah.”

“I am in shock. What are you going to do?”

The server appeared with their food, which they left untouched.

“I am not sure. This was not exactly planned.”

Hannah leaned over and flipped through her Filofax. “Nope, definitely not planned.”

“Your humor is not wanted right now.”

Hannah shrugged. “Just trying to lighten the mood.” She stabbed her salad. “First, you need to eat and then let’s find a pharmacy and get a test.”

Alexis pushed her plate towards Hannah. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

Hannah pushed the plate back at her. “Eat. You might be eating for two.”

Alexis groaned.

The annoying chime of JARVIS disturbed Loki’s peaceful lunch within the confines of his apartment. Over the past year, he curated a living space he enjoyed with artwork and textiles that brought him joy. What he didn’t enjoy were the intrusions by Stark’s electronic butler.

“Master Loki. There’s a young woman in the lobby asking to see you.”

Loki placed his utensils down. “Did she give a reason?”

A pause.

“It is of a personal nature.”

Loki waved his hand in the air. “Send her away. Tell her I’m indisposed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Loki returned to his lunch. It was probably one of the women he slept with looking for a serious relationship, he mused. That was one thing Loki was not interested in. Lust, not love, ruled his heart these days. And he had no intentions of changing his ways anytime soon.

The next morning JARVIS chimed again, at the hour of 7 a.m. well before Loki woke up on days where he wasn’t due anywhere.

“Master Loki, the woman is back. She is most insistent she needs to speak with you.”

Loki groaned, rolling onto his back. “Leave me be!”

“Should I send her away?”

“Yes.” Loki grabbed the pillow and covered his head, falling back asleep.

The morning wake up call was gone and forgotten as soon as Loki got going for this day. Until he headed out that evening, walking through the empty lobby of Avengers Towers on his way to hopefully meet a new conquest.

“LOKI!” A female voice called out.

Loki turned to see a young woman step out from behind a pillar. Her short, light brown hair and blue eyes vaguely familiar.

“The building’s been closed for hours. How are you even still here?”

“I hid in a supply closet.”

“I shall tell Stark his security is lacking.” He turned his attention to the girl. “You need to leave.”

“No,” She pressed her hand against his chest. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

Loki crossed his arms, tapping his foot. “What is it?” He spat at her.

Her composure crumbled. Loki only then noticed the tears in her eyes and the envelope in her hands.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she muttered. “Of course not. Why would you? Here.” She shoved the envelope in his hand. “I thought you had a right to know.” She walked away, shoulders shaking. “And in case you fucking care, my name is Alexis, ass!”

The name triggered Loki’s memory back to the Whiskey Front Room. He opened the envelope and it contained a single sheet of paper with lab results.

Pregnancy Test: Positive

Loki stared at the door where Alexis exited a minute ago and then back at the paper before laughing. His plans of going out forgotten. He followed her, his long legs catching with Alexis easily.

“Is this some sort of joke?” He called out after her.

She stopped in tracks before spinning on her foot. Black trails of mascara marred her cheeks. “Does it look like I’m fucking joking?!” She snapped, spitting towards him.

Loki took a step back before smiling. He handed the paper back to her. “It’s a false positive. It is impossible.”

Alexis shoved it back at him. “I took three home tests, and that is a copy of my lab results. Do you realize how rare a false positive pregnancy test from a lab is?”

Loki wrinkled his nose. “No. But it’s a mistake.” He nodded his head. “I cast a spell to prevent this thing from happening. So your little scheme isn’t going to work. What is it you want? Money? I don’t have any.”

Alexis jabbed a finger into his chest. “You can drop the condescending tone. I am not here for money or anything else. I just thought you should know… in case you ever wondered if you had a kid out there. You do.” She sniffled.

Alexis slumped her shoulders and walked away. Loki reached out for her.

“Listen, I still don’t believe it, but I can’t have you leaving until we straighten this out.”

“You want me to stay… with… you?” Alexis stuttered. “No fucking way! You just called me a liar.”

“I said it was an impossibility, which is. I’m afraid you need to come with me. Just for one night. You can stay in my quarters.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I wasn’t asking. You can sleep in the bed and I will take the sofa.” Alexis crossed her arms and stared at Loki. “If you try to leave, I will forcibly return you to the tower. I prefer you coming willingly. I apologize for the inconvenience, but if what you say is true, you may be in danger.”

Alexis’s jaw dropped. “Why would my life be in danger?”

“I have many enemies. Now come.” Loki cradled his arm around her.

“Okay, but we are discussing this whole enemies, life in mortal danger thing some more once we get back.”

Loki nodded. “After we have the doctor examination tomorrow and she confirms you are not pregnant, I will answer all questions you want. But for now, let’s return.” Loki’s confidence Alexis was not pregnant faltered each time he mentioned it. There was no way his magic failed. But something itched at the back of his head. He pushed it away.

Alexis allowed Loki to guide her back to the Tower and into the elevator. Once they reached his quarters, he disappeared into the bedroom.

“Here are some clothes to sleep in.” He offered a t-shirt and shorts of his. “They might be a little big. I could ask around if you want—”

“No!” She yelled, causing Loki to smile. “The shirt and shorts are fine.” Alexis snatched them out of Loki’s hand.

Loki nodded in agreement. “Are you hungry? I can cook or order something in?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I just want to sleep and get this over with so I can return to my normal life.”

He rose and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from a closet. “If you are up before me, please wake me. The sooner we settle this, the sooner you can get on with your life.”

He stretched onto the couch and Alexis’s heart sunk. She wasn’t sure why, perhaps she expected more from Loki than indifference. A hint he cared for the unborn child she carried. She turned over and settled in for a restless night’s sleep in a strange bed.

“Brother… Brother…” Thor whispered, shaking Loki out of his slumber.

“What is it, Thor?” He waved off further assault from his brother.

“There is a woman wearing your clothes asleep in your bed.”

“And that requires assault? Have you never seen a woman before?” Loki rolled over, hoping to catch more sleep before facing the nightmare of Alexis and this impossible pregnancy.

“I am still responsible for you here on Midgard, Loki. And I have a right—”

“—You have no right to my personal life!” Loki sneered. “There are things that are mine and mine only. Now leave me be!”

Thor held his hands up in defeat. “Fair enough. But when you are ready to talk… I am here.”

“A small comfort.” Loki forced a smile.

Alexis stepped out, wearing Loki’s t-shirt, which came down to her mid thigh. “What’s going on?” She rubbed her eyes, hair sticking out.

“My brother was just leaving.” Loki rose and shoved Thor out the front door before he could ask questions of Alexis.

She pursed her lips as Loki turned and chuckled nervously.

“So… does anyone know about me?”

“Not yet. I would prefer to keep this between us until we settle things.”

“They’re already settled for me.” she muttered, tucking her chin to her chest.

Loki’s face softened. “Forgive me for being a skeptic. My magic has never failed me before.”

“Maybe you wanted it to fail.”

“Why would I want it to fail?” Loki squinted at her.

She shrugged her shoulders and smirked. “Maybe you like me.”

“I’m not looking for emotional entanglement. And I am certainly not looking to be a father.” Loki moved to the kitchen to fix some coffee and a light breakfast.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t need it.” Alexis moved to watch Loki in the kitchen. She marveled at the efficiency of his movements. No wasted energy, no extraneous steps. This was a man who pre-planned every aspect of his life. No mistakes, no room for error. Until her.

“Can I have some of that?” She asked as Loki fixed a caramel mocha.

Not as good as the one from the coffee shop, but it sufficed for days when he couldn’t be bothered to leave the Tower. He invested in a top of the line espresso machine for just such purpose.

He sized her up with a questioning glance but prepared a second serving and handed it to her. “Dr. Cho is expecting us at 8. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.” She sipped the coffee after blowing on it to cool, it verged on too sweet for her tastes.

Loki rummaged into the fridge. “I have eggs or… eggs.”

“Eggs, please. Scrambled.”

Loki prepared the eggs as he did the coffee, meticulously.

“I’m glad you don’t fuck the way you cook.” Alexis mused, taking small sips of the sweet coffee.

“Meaning?” He tucked into his eggs, adding buttered toast to both his and Alexis’s plate.

“Precise. Cold. Clinical. Sex should be messy.”

Loki couldn’t resist a smirk. “Isn’t that how we ended up here?”

“Touche. Do I have time to shower before I get poked and prodded to satisfy you that I am pregnant?”

Loki glanced at the clock. “Use whatever you want. If you would prefer, wear one of my shirts rather than your clothes from yesterday.”

“Thanks.”

Loki finished up his food and cleaned up the dishes and his bedding off the couch. Alexis emerged with wet hair, wearing one of Loki’s black button-down shirts, tied at the waist, the top buttons undone. Loki swallowed hard.

“You said I could borrow one.”

“It’s fine. You look good. Give me a few moments and we can go.”

Loki showered and dressed for the day in jeans and a t-shirt, joining Alexis in the living room. “Ready?”

She nodded, and Loki took her hand. He glanced down the hallway before slinking them out and towards the elevator. He froze a voice called out.

“Is this a walk of shame?” Tony commented.

Alexis turned bright red as Loki pulled her close. “Go to the elevator and wait for me.” She mumbled and walked away.

“No need to be embarrassed. She’s cute. Kind of quiet. Frankly, I was wondering.” Tony smirked at Loki.

Loki resisted the bait. “She is just a friend in need of some help. Once she is settled, you’ll never see her again and you can go back to speculating.”

“Whatever, Reindeer Games. Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a friend… wearing your shirt.” Tony averted his gaze.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Now if you excuse me, I have a previous engagement.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Tony called out as Loki beelined for Alexis, who was holding the elevator.

“Was that Tony Stark?” Alexis whispered once the elevator doors closed and Loki punched in the number.

“Unfortunately, yes. But once we confirm you’re not pregnant, you won’t have to worry about him.”

Alexis grew quiet. “Still convinced this is a mistake?”

“I’m never wrong and my magic never fails.”

One hour later, Dr. Cho pulled Loki aside.

“She is pregnant.”

Loki chuckled, which turned into nervous laughter. “You must be joking. There’s no way—”

“I did two blood tests and an ultrasound. I heard the baby’s heartbeat.”

Loki’s jaw dropped. “But my magic—”

“—failed. Now you can either accept reality or live a life of delusion. Right now there is a young woman in there who is scared and you calling her a liar is not going to help. I am going back in there. Are you coming with me?”

Loki nodded in shock and followed Dr. Cho back into the examination room. Alexis’s eyes met Loki’s with fear, the tears threatening to fall with a blink of her eye or a swipe of her hand.

Loki smiled a crooked smile at her and sighed. “I guess we need to talk.”

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki smut #loki angst #loki x ofc #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki series #destiny has other plans

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herstoryherlegacy · 3 years

Text

God shows up

Today I had a laundry list of things to do starting at 8am. I jumped out of bed to do fasting bloodwork for my endocrinologist before my gyno appointment. I had time to grab a bite at Starbucks before that appointment. I was pretty happy because my favorite beauty brand Dose of Colors had reposted my Gofundme page on their IG stories. I can’t say enough about how sweet the entire staff is over there. I’m so blessed to know them and thankful for their support of me as an artist and person. I have been so blessed with donations to my family that I felt compelled to do something for someone else. In the drive thru I looked behind me, to see a mama and what looked to have been her baby in the back she was attending to. Of course I felt connected to her as a mama of a toddler. I wanted to treat her to her drink because who knows what she has going on, but it’s early morning and she’s been mom’ing already. At the window I paid for both of our orders and left to my doctors, hoping her day had been made. I also loaded my card up with $30 and posted it to my IG stories to further treat my lovely followers if they needed a drink. I’ll come back more to this later.

My gyno appointment wasn’t bad. I was getting a pap which I had missed a couple weeks prior. This doctor who was new to me, was the one who called me with my official diagnosis. He is kind and caring and I have never desired to have a male gyno, but I felt comfortable in his presence. He asked me how I was doing and I told him my concerns about wanting a hysterectomy to further avoid any cancers. He said that may not be the best choice, unless my genetics testing said I am at risk. He mentioned removing my ovaries can put me at higher risk of heart attacks and Jesus I’m already at risk because of my diabetes. I was hoping it would be a positive and preventative option, but it comes with its own risks. Am I willing to take them? Honestly…a lot of these choices aren’t even mine. I mean yeah, legally I have the choice to say no to chemo and no to surgery and just live my life like normal, ignoring my health concerns. But no one really does that. I hate I don’t have choices in what happens do me. No I will never opt out of treatment, because I value my life, but do I want to do any of this shit? Nay. With cancer, I don’t have any choices it feels like. My body is calling the shots and I have to bow down to what’s happening. I felt pretty upset after that talk. I felt scared. My once pretty ok morning was not spiraling into darkness. I still had shit to do. I needed to drop off my daughters homeschool work and pick up new work. I had to go to Ashley furniture and check out that recliner I wanted. I was in no mood, I was crying a ton. So I headed to Ashley. I knew I wanted to see the same nice lady who had helped me previously with my purchases, but what was her name again? I could describe her. But I didn’t feel like describing her because I felt like if I spoke I would cry, I was still in that place. So i sucked it up as much as I could and walked in.

Guess who was sitting right at the entrance to greet me. Helen 🤍. I reintroduced myself and told her what I was in for today. She remembered me and got up to show me around. She turned over her shoulder and asked how I was doing. I answered honestly. I told her I was not doing well, and that I needed this recliner for my chemotherapy. I of course, broke down. And she looked me dead in the eyes, really the only place she could look since we are both masked, and she spoke to me firmly, but not harshly. She told me to stop right now. She implored me to look into meditation. She explained all the benefits and told me that I needed to stop putting my fears into the universe and start replacing those with good thoughts. She had an entire conversation uplifting me and before I knew if I had stopped crying completely. I’m not sure helens religious beliefs or if she doesn’t have any, but the conversation we had could have very well replaced some words with “Jesus” and served the same purpose. Because yes I do believe the universe lines things up for us, but I can also say the same thing about God. And I whole heartedly because God lined me up with Helen today. She told me that if I had come yesterday or tomorrow she wouldn’t have been here. And it’s true. I was meant to go there yesterday but my daughter was sick and I saved it for today. I can’t deny that wasn’t Devine intervention. I needed helens healing words today. I found my recliner and was granted a great deal. And what do you know? Helen also works at Home Depot by me, has been for 25 years! I told her I also needed a new fridge and she was going to be able to help me there also. My needs are being met, and I have none other to thank than Jesus. He has never left me before, I don’t believe he would leave me now, and as much as I feel..betrayed by this diagnosis, God is showing me he is very much still there. I don’t know how to tap into him completely yet, my relationship needs work, but I want to know his plan and I want to know I’ll be okay. So far, I believe I’m being shown just that.

Poor Sophie had been super sick the other day with some sort of tummy bug. I also needed to grab her an at home covid test to help rule that out. I visited one CVS with no luck. Grabbed lunch and headed to another. This one I asked the pharmacy and she said it would be at the register if they had them, but she didn’t think they would. I was feeling defeated not being able to get one for soph, but I asked anyway. The girl said “you know what, I’ve been telling people all day we are out, but my manager actually found 3 in the back”..you’re here God, I see you. I grabbed one and with some assistance from the lovely associate I saved $12 off my purchase, these things aren’t cheap. I felt better and headed home. I had lunch, and passed out on the couch. I was exhausted to the bone running around for 6 straight hours. I slept on the couch for 3’ish hours. It felt wonderful. I’m still dreadfully tired so I’ll say goodnight here. But Regardless of what my relationship status is with the Lord, he has never ever not once left me hanging. I have always been able to have my needs met by him. This is no time for me to question our God, but instead press in, thank him for my blessings, see those silver linings, and manifest as Helen says, the things I want. So I am speaking into the universe, that I will be healed, that I will be here for my girls. I’m believing it. But also..don’t stop praying for me!

Oh! Before I go, trip out on this.

#cancer #manifestingmiracles

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captaincvans · 5 years

Text

Chapter Four: Skin to Bone

03/01/20

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1667+

Warnings: Language; TW: Miscarriage

Series Masterpost

A/N: I apologize for the long wait for this chapter! I hope I do this story justice, and I hope you all enjoy the updates. If you have a kind word or two to spare, please drop by my Askbox- I really need it.

Y/N turned around at the door, seeing the hard face of her ex-boyfriend before he slammed the door at her face. She stumbled through the city, trying to numb her emotions and think about her next steps. She needed a place to stay, luckily it was still the holidays, and she had the next two days off. The first hotel she went to was booked up, and so was the second one, and the third one. She opted for a small motel in the quieter part of town, where it wouldn’t be bustling with tourists. She managed to get a single room with a king sized bed for a reasonable price. Chris didn’t leave her with much stuff, just her phone that was quickly losing battery, her purse, and a duffle bag that she threw her essentials in. Luckily, she always brought a battery pack in case of emergencies. She chewed on her lip for a while, wondering what to do next.

“Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath. She typed a quick text to Chris, hoping he hadn’t blocked her number yet.

I need the rest of my stuff. When can I pick it up?

She waited a few seconds before her phone pinged.

Tomorrow morning. John will be there.

Y/N didn’t bother to text back, her body exhausted from the day, her mind shutting down to protect herself from the incoming wave of emotions. She decided to retire for the night, just after showering in the dirty bathroom, she thought it would be best to stay in the clothes she came in, unsure of the last time the bedsheets were actually clean. Once in bed, the weight of the day came crashing down on her. Their three-year relationship was gone, just down the drain. Chris was someone she found herself imagining living the rest of her life with, but now their relationship has ended like this. Once a drop of tear escaped, there was no turning back. She was angry at him for not giving her a chance to speak, for not giving her the chance to tell him about the baby she might be carrying, but overall she was just sad. Chris had never behaved like this towards her, or anyone he knows for that matter! It would have taken a lot to get him this upset, but she just didn’t know what she did to make him upset like this- or if there was even a reason. Perhaps that was the most upsetting part of it all, he never gave her a chance to fix the relationship. He just gave up on them. He didn’t fight for them. Y/N spent hours grieving over the relationship she lost, mourning over the future she thought she would have.

Her heart was bubbling with anger and hurt, the feelings making her want to vomit, but she remained strong. She lived all her other years without Chris, and would be damned if she let him ruin her life like this. Overall, she felt defeated with the turn of events. Chris was as stubborn as a person would get, he wasn’t going to change his mind or listen to her while he was still this hurt. After a restless sleep, she woke up at around 9AM, unusually late for her, but she was grateful for the fact that it was now a reasonable time to head over to Chris’s apartment. She took her car, thankful that she always had a preference towards a CRV instead of smaller cars.

“Hi John,” Y/N greeted quietly, not knowing what his mood was going to be. She wasn’t even sure if he knew the whole story, and if he would be resentful towards her.

“Hi Y/N,” he replied. He gave her a small smile, sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?”

She shrugged. “Not great.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to say. “Do you need help getting these in your car?”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

John grabbed the box closest to him, and placed it inside her car. Slowly, but surely the car was starting to get full with all her stuff, and it left her heart aching more. Once the last of her items were in the car, John stopped her. “Before I forget. Chris wanted me to give you this.” He handed her a stapled contract.

“Oh right… The agreement,” Y/N mumbled. She never thought her relationship with Chris would end this badly, she never thought it would end, period. She was sure he was the one she would spend the rest of her life with. She would never forget signing this form when they reached their second year anniversary, almost a year ago. Chris hadn’t even told her about this directly, John had given her all this information on his own.

“Sorry about all this, Y/N.”

“It’s not your fault, John. How should I make the payments?”

“You can deposit it into the account shown on the last page. It should have all the information you need, and if you have any questions feel free to call me.”

She read over the letter, heart sinking when she saw the amount of money she owed, but she wasn’t surprised. Chris had spent quite a great deal on her and the relationship. She dragged her feet to the motel, hoping to find some apartments around the area that she can afford. She was far from poor, but if she needed to make monthly instalments to Chris, she would need to be smart with her budget. Afterall, paying someone $50 000 was not in her mind when she was making the budget for the year.

The first thing she did was book an appointment with her family doctor to confirm her pregnancy. Y/N was hoping to make the first appointment with Chris after she had told him, but now she supposed everything had to be done by herself. She went back to work the next day, refusing to stay in bed and wallow in her sorrow.

Her doctor’s appointment was on a rainy Wednesday, the weather matching her foul mood. She was grateful that they didn’t ask too many questions about the baby daddy, and instead focused on the her and the baby’s health, giving her all the information she needed.

A month after they separated, the investigation started. Y/N wasn’t sure what to think. She knew for sure she would never steal from Chris, she was adamant in proving that she was never with him for his money. But no one seemed to believe her. She couldn’t blame them. If Chris didn’t even believe her, how could she expect strangers to believe her? She did her best with giving as much information to the police as possible. They were looking into her accounts, but she was confident they wouldn’t find anything. She was positive in her innocence.

The stress was getting to her, pressure from her friends and family on why she and Chris broke up on top of the investigation was piling up. She woke up in her one bedroom apartment, a sharp pain in her abdomen. A pressure in her chest was building as an ominous feeling dawned on her. She made a beeline to the bathroom, seeing the blood seep through her cream shorts, and she felt nauseous. She phoned her OB/Gyn in a panic, quickly washing up to Uber to her doctor. She wasn’t going to risk driving in this condition.Two long hours later, and she got her result. She had a miscarriage. While her doctor was going on with how often it happened, she tuned out. There was an empty feeling in her heart, and she wasn’t sure if it would ever be filled again.

Y/N had no time to grieve the loss of her baby because a month later the press found out about the whole investigation. After that her life became a living hell. The journalist and press were following her around like a piranha smelling fresh blood. Once the news became public that she was remotely involved in this fraud case, she was fired from her workplace with the excuse that they didn’t want to have the negative press on her team. The next few months were unbearable to say the least. Every day was harder than the previous.

Y/N left her home to do a quick grocery run, her small home was packed with paparazzis around her. She asked her lawyer a few months ago to move to a smaller apartment and somewhere she could have a small sense of security, losing her job and the payments she made to John made a considerable dent to her savings. Unfortunately, her lawyer said no. There were strict rules on what she could and couldn’t do as a part of this investigation as outlined by the court, and moving was not an option. As she was coming back, one of the journalist had gotten close to her, enough to hit her with their giant cameras.

“What do you have to say about the investigation?”

“Were you just with Chris for his money?”

“Did you steal from him?”

“Did you plan all of this?”

Questions were thrown at her, each one hitting her harder. She knew that she never had any intention of hurting Chris, even after all this time, she was no longer mad at him. Instead, she felt sorry for him. It must have been hard for him to accept that the people closest to him betrayed him, and she knew how sensitive he was to the people around him. He was always so friendly to people, and there were some that took advantage of his kindness.

“Please leave me alone,” she said, trying to avoid more cameras hitting her.

“What was that?”

“Can you repeat that?”

“Did you say to leave you alone?”

It was the first time she acknowledged them by talking to them, and they were eating it up. Now she was even more anxious. She knew not to have given them anything, Chris had told her that all the time when they were dating. Once they think they have a chance to get something out of you, they would attack and be more aggressive with their advances. Finally, she made it inside her home, quickly locking the door behind her and throwing her groceries on the kitchen counter. Once her hands were empty, she fell to her knees, tears quickly falling down her face.

Scott drove them both home, Chris being unfit to even get behind the wheels with his mind so jumbled.

“You gonna be okay?” Scott asked once they arrived at Chris’s farmhouse.

Chris nodded numbly, offering a forced smile. “Yea, I’ll be fine. Go on your date.”

“I can cancel-”

“Scott, really, it’s fine.” Chris punched his brother’s arm, trying to give him a semblance of his old self. “I’ll be fine. I’m good.”

“Okay. If you need anything- and I mean anything, call me, okay?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yes, mom.”

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. He grabbed his duffle bag of stuff he brought when he stayed over.

Once Scott left, Chris fell to his couch. Dodger padding towards him, and throwing his toy next to him. “Not now, buddy.” He did, however, scratch the back of the canine’s ears. “I fucked up, and I gotta figure out a way to apologize to your mom.” He pulled out his phone, trying to find any sign on Y/N through her social media. She’s never been an avid user, especially once their relationship became public. He wasn’t surprised to find that she hasn’t been active since a bit before they broke up.

However, something on his Twitter caught his eye. It was a paparazzi photo of Y/N from the morning exiting a grocery store, and a few more from outside of what he assumed was her home. She was highly distressed, her sunglasses failing to hide the crease between her brows, and the way her body curled in itself. The tweet itself was hateful, telling Y/N she brought this upon herself. Chris flared with anger, seeing the replies and other tweets, all blaming her. Just like him, they didn’t hear her side of the story. He went through the journalist’s tweets, they wrote clickbait articles using her name, getting quotes from her friends and family that he knew weren’t all that truthful. One of the article broke his heart. There was a quote from her begging them to stop following her, to leave her alone, but they made a joke out of it in their writing. They weren’t interested in telling a story. They were there to just break her even more.

Chris went back to his page, and tweeted something for the first time in a few months.

<-- (Chapter 3) (Chapter 5) -->

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#chris evans x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans fandom #chris evans oneshot #josephine writes #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #marvel #chris x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel fics

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toloveawarlord · 4 years

Text

Ch. 6

Characters: Edgar Bright, Iris Adley, Sean

Pairing: Edgar x Iris

Tagging: @plumpblueberry

“You can’t blame them for being curious. No one knows what Sir Edgar is having you do as his second,” Sean said, lounging back on the perfectly made bed. He and all the others that were under the Jack of Hearts were hovering around me, asking an infinite amount of questions about the allusive and mysterious Edgar Bright…ever since he appointed me as his second.

I buttoned up my uniform shirt with visible annoyance. “I’m basically a glorified secretary, organizing documents, keeping notes about important dates and meetings, and pretending to be him when penning letters that he finds too boring while he sits on the sofa sipping tea.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t work. Soldiers came and went all day long with reports and documents. When he wasn’t in his quarters, he was in meetings with Jonah and Lancelot or officials in Central Quarter, on top of training his own troop of soldiers with a warm smile and steel fist. And yet, when we were alone, he turned into a candy gobbling child that enjoyed causing me a headache.

“Aren’t you tired? You don’t return from your duties until the early morning hours and then turn around and be up at first call at 7 like the rest of us.” He was just as intrigued by my new position as the others, but for more reasons. Every day he asked if we’d spoken about my predicament and the answer remained a stern no.

“Tired of his ridiculously idiot game? Yes.”

“Aw, that’s no way to speak about your adoring superior.”

The only slightly peaceful part of my day came crashing down at the presence of the Jack of Hearts. He’d let himself into the room without any warning, apparently a recurring trait of his. I can’t exactly complain, outwardly at least.

I rested against the bed to slip on my boots, tugging the laces extra tight while imaging the thin string to be around his neck. The whispers from the hallway not so quiet, nearly bringing a large commotion to the barrack hallway. “I’ll assume you’re here for business, sir.”

“Sean, you will be in Central Quarter today.” Edgar gave the order with a hint of edge to his voice. He received a salute and Sean scuttled off to leave us. One quick glance over his shoulder and the rest of the soldiers scattered before those mischievous jade irises were turned on me. “You will be accompanying to patrol the forest. Won’t that be fun, Iris?”

“Are you going to insist on calling me that when we’re alone?”

“It is your name. Besides, the expressions you make are worth any risk.”

I swiped my hat from the rack, settling it on my blonde locks, adjusting it with stiff movements. I made a silent vow to work on how I outwardly reacted to his taunts, if only to irritate him a fraction of how he irritated him.

Outside of his personal unit, the soldiers continued to treat me like an outsider. They glared when they thought none of the ranking officers were watching. They whispered in ear shot of me, insisting on being petty about my sudden rise in position. Only the ones within Edgar’s unit had begun to accept me, at least enough to not avoid me during meals and free time.

The leaves crunched beneath his boots, the Jack of Hearts strolling with a spring his step. His good mood almost contagious. It was strange, simultaneously keeping up my guard while also lowering it at times around him. He hadn’t broken his word and exposed my secret. “Iris, lost in thought, are we? I do hope it’s me on your mind.”

Jade irises mischievously reflecting my own clear, blue ones. Edgar’s face mere inches.

I took a step back only to hit a tree. The pain dull but grounded me back in reality.

Quick to close the distance, like a wild cat slinking up to its cornered prey, Edgar’s grin grew wider. “You make a pretty boy, but I prefer the real Iris.” Gloved fingers expertly removing the earring and pocketing it in seconds. “I’ll hold onto this until it’s time to return.”

Without the magic, nothing hid the fact that I was a woman. It would be unlikely for the army to send multiple soldiers on this patrol, but not unheard of. And yet, winning an argument with a rock was more attainable than reasoning with the gentle demon.

The forest was peaceful. Although not many ventured in due to the rumors surrounding it, bandits tended to gather on occasion. The town was abuzz with talk of some unsavory types moving between Central Quarter and the Forbidden Forest. Edgar had been tasked with uncovering and eliminating them.

“I did some digging, but there’s no record of where your brother disappeared to. Not even your parents have any inkling. I suspect that you have some idea.” He broke the silence as he adjusted his gait to fall in step with me.

“I don’t. He never told me where he was going. Only that the girl he’d fallen obsessively in love with was the reason he wouldn’t take his position in the army.” The night he’d left still seared freshly in my mind. It made little sense. He had been handed the fourth highest rank in the Red Army and he abandoned it for a woman.

Edgar hummed in response, gaze lifting to the treetops above us. “Peculiar, but I hear that love makes one do crazy things.”

“He’s an absolute fool. Love is an abstract idea that is fleeting. He barely knew her, and yet he threw away his whole life, making a traitor of himself, of our family. For what?” He’d said that he might be gone for a while, years. At that time, it would be much too late. Our family would be ostracized, the position given by birthright erased and passed on to some distant blood relative.

“You’ve never been in love, have you, Iris?”

I gave him a disgusted glare before replying, “No. I’ll wager you haven’t either.”

He snickered from behind his palm, not making any attempts to avoid my slap to his arm. “You’re right. I’ve little time for dalliances with women. I have been approached, but taking a wife is not of importance to me.” For a second, the facade slipped, and I saw the flash of melancholy cross his features. Then it was gone, replaced with that empty smile. “I imagine you’ve had plenty of men throwing themselves at you.”

“You mean at my father.” I shivered in absolute revulsion. None of them had approached me directly. Whispers of how I could be harsh and hard to please were always circling me like rampant sharks. Negotiations went through my father, and I never accepted a single one. “I have no desire to be someone’s wife.”

“You’d rather be a solider?”

There was no judgement or ridicule in his question, as it had been with all the men previous in my life. Any time I trained with a sword or learned hand to hand combat, they all had a similar tone. It’s not for a woman. I would prove them all wrong. “Yes. Only the Red Army has rules against women joining. It seems obvious that after 500 years, perhaps a different perspective might be advantageous.”

“War is not made for the weak.”

“Weak and female are not synonymous.”

Jade eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. “Oh, I’m well aware of your strengths, Iris. And I, for one, have no qualms with you being in the army. It’s not simply a matter of changing laws.”

The politics. It’s always about the politics among the Red elites.

The scent of smoke drifted through the trees, silencing our discussion. The rumors were proving to be true. We both became silent, like ghosts leaving no trace of their existence as we neared the campsite. Only one man guarded the camp.

“We’ll wait until nightfall, and all of them are to be captured.” His whisper carried the weight of his position. The teasing superior vanished without a trace, replaced with the Jack of Hearts giving his soldier an unbreakable order. His gaze only flickered to me long enough to see my nod before returning to our targets.

They came and went, five of them in total. As the sun began to slide beyond the horizon. Once the light faded, the group all gathered around the fire, clinking dirty glasses of stolen booze, and rifling through their treasures. Edgar gave a signal, directing me to circle to the other side.

Blending in with the darkness was easy. The moon cast slivers of silver light between the leaves rustling in the wind. I crouched by a thick bush, waiting patiently for our moment to attack. I hadn’t, however, expected him to announce himself.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” Edgar startled the whole lot of them, hand lightly gripping the hilt of his sword. The fire crackled as one choked on his drink at the sudden appearance of the officer. “You’ve caused quite the ruckus in town. It’s time to answer for your crimes.”

Swords and knives were drawn, all eyes focused solely on the single man in the crisp white uniform. Their bravery coupled with cowardice as they collectively moved the opposite direction with slow steps, save for their so-called leader. He alone faced the gentle demon with a scowl.

He gave a howl and lunged at Edgar, only to grab air and lose his breath as his torso connected with the Jack of Heart’s knee.

Tension rose through the campsite. Some were frozen in their spot, watching the imminent defeat of their boss. But one... there’s always one, who decides to save themselves and run.

Unlucky for him.

The wheeze that passed his lips when I wrenched my elbow back into his throat divided the attention. He collapsed to the dirt, body curling up as he clutched his neck and struggled to catch his breath. “How pathetic,” I said, drawing my own sword from its sheath.

There’s two of them?

Who cares! Just take them out and let’s get out of here!

They were barely worth any effort. Their form sloppy and no coordination between them. Although it hadn’t been too long since being under Edgar’s guidance, I had picked up on some quirks of his. In the beginning, the soldiers in the unit avoided me, leaving Edgar to spar with me most of the time. I’d learned his movements quite well.

“I’m impressed. You’ve done so well,” Edgar praised with a pat on my shoulder. He chuckled as I brushed it off.

I finished the knot on the last rope, creating a line of prisoners so they couldn’t try to escape. “I didn’t ask for your evaluation.”

“But that’s my job. Your hand to hand could use a little work. I’d be happy to teach you.” His eager grin disappeared at the voice of the leader of the bandits. I hadn’t witnessed the demon side of him until now.

Since when did the Red Army employ women?

I turned away, remembering that he still had my earring and no magic had shielded my features. Edgar slipped it into my palm without a word before slinking up to the angered prisoner.

“He is quite pretty for a boy, I’ll admit. You’d do well to keep your mouth shut.” The malice laced in his words paired perfectly with the dagger pressed a little too hard against his prey’s throat. His threat received with a silent nod.

I trailed behind, lost deeply in thought. It hadn’t been necessary. There was no reason for him to say anything. No one would have believed the word of a criminal over the Jack. There’s no logical reasoning behind why Edgar had protected me, nor why I can’t simply say thank you and move on.

My cheeks were unbearably hot.

Why did he confuse me so much?

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #edgar bright #iris adley #ikerev oc #finally #iris is beginning to have feelings #even though she has no idea what those feelings are

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