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sjsmith56 · 8 months

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A Little Calm - Part 21, From There To Here - Bucky Barnes One Shots

Summary: Bucky is living in a Wakandan village, raising goats and making goat cheese. Word of a visit from a woman he fell in love with reaches him. His hopes for something permanent with her don’t materialize. When King T’Challa arrives with his new arm he realizes he is needed for a fight.

Length: 5.7K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named original female character, assorted Wakandan villagers, Shuri, T’Challa, Okoye.

Warnings: naughty goats (specifically Constance and Stevie), Bucky’s romantic hopes dashed, Bucky accepting he has to fight.

Author notes: Swahili phrases and words are taken from Google Translate or from the University of Kansas online resources https://kiswahili.ku.edu/sites/kiswahili/files/documents/lessons/lesson_53.pdf. The descriptions of teff porridge, goat rearing and cheese making are from various internet resources and have been simplified in this story. The terms describing Bucky's Wakandan clothing was taken from a Tumblr reply by @devildears on July 11, 2018.

<<Part 20

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It wasn't the crow of the rooster that woke Bucky up. He had slept well; no nightmares had plagued him this time. When he opened his eyes feeling that something wasn't right it took a few moments before he realized what it was. He couldn't hear his goats.

"Shit," he muttered, sitting up and heading to the small bathroom in his hut, where he relieved himself.

Pulling his work pants on first he tugged on a sleeveless undershirt, tucked it in, then pulled up the fly on his pants, doing the button up as he walked back to his bed. His boots were ready to be slipped on and he quickly tied the laces using the one-handed technique that had taken him a day to figure out when he first came to Wakanda. After double knotting the loops, he grabbed his work shirt and slipped it on, doing up the buttons as he headed outside.

"Dammit goats," he said out loud, seeing where one of them had pulled away the wire netting creating a hole big enough for the baby goats to get out. Of course, the nanny goats, seeing their kids outside of the enclosure had finished the job, pulling it even further to where one of them, likely Constance, had pushed and pushed the post until it fell over, opening up an even bigger space for her and the other nanny goats to escape as well. Constance was known for continually testing the strength of the posts that he and his neighbour, Silumko had spent hours pounding into the soil when they first erected the pen. Stepping over the mess of the peeled back wire netting he strode into the small shed that acted as a shelter during rainy times to see if any of the goats still remained. He was shocked to see Constance there.

"Okay," he said to the oldest goat he owned. "So, it wasn't you that pushed the post over. Unless you did it just to bother me and send me on a wild goose chase, or should I say, wild goat chase."

Bucky didn't know why he was talking to the goat. It wasn't like she was going to answer him, as she stood there calmly eating what was left of the sweet hay he brought in the day before. Maybe she was the guilty party so she could have the hay all to herself. He posed that to her but of course she gave no indication that she even understood what he was saying.

"Damn goat," he muttered again.

The sound of one of the baby goats bleating drew his attention and he came out to the sight of Silumko's son Uuka, carrying Stevie, his oldest billy goat who was making a big show of struggling against the arms of the boy.

"White Wolf, I found this one in our garden," said the boy, in English. "Mama sent me to tell you the others are scattered over the whole village."

"Thank you," replied Bucky, taking the struggling goat from the boy. "Can you help me round them up?"

"Of course, Mama said I should help," replied Uuka. He looked critically at the goat paddock. "You might have to fix this first otherwise they will just get out again."

"Tell me something I don't know, kid," thought the older man.

Still carrying the struggling Stevie, he went into his hut and came out with a handful of collars and tethers. With Uuka's assistance they managed to get one on the uncooperative goat and he tied him up to one of the sturdier posts. Looking sternly at Constance, Bucky pointed his finger at her.

"Stay here," he commanded, then with a grimace he and Uuka began to jog towards the village to find the others.

Two hours later they finally found the last of the runaways, a nanny goat, thanks to the assistance of two other boys, Chuma and Luzuko. On their arrival back at Bucky's hut he was relieved to see that none of the returned goats had managed to escape again. Silumko was already there with another neighbour Akida, trying to reset the knocked over post.

"White Wolf, all that time we spent making sure this post was secure before attaching the netting was for nothing," smiled Silumko, then he pointed at Constance. "It was this one, wasn't it?"

"I'm sure of it," answered Bucky, running his hand through his long hair. "She was still in the pen, eating the sweet hay I put in yesterday, as if she wanted it all to herself." He looked at Akida. "I should sell her back to you for all the trouble she gives me."

"Why do you think I sold her to you?" laughed Akida. "My wife was ready to leave me because of that one. You have no wife to anger, although I've heard it said that a few of the unmarried ones think you're a good project to take on."

"I'm too old to be married," replied Bucky, trying not to blush. "Calling me a project to take on doesn't give me much credit, either."

The other two men thought that was the funniest thing they ever heard and laughed out loud. "I'll tell you a little secret," said Silumko, beckoning Bucky to come closer. "All men are a project to take on. We all need a woman to civilize us, even our king. When he finally accepts his fate and takes a wife, he will be a much happier man." The sound of their wives calling to them brought their laughter to a quick end. Silumko smiled and patted Bucky on the shoulder. "We'll be back to help you rebuild the goat's pen. Think seriously about what I said, White Wolf. The right woman in your life could bring you the happiness you deserve. At the very least, she would be an extra set of hands."

Smiling half-heartedly back at the two men Bucky looked over the destruction of the pen. It was true that being one-armed had limited him in many ways, but it had also freed him in others. No longer was that shining monstrosity a constant reminder of what his life had been for so long. Without its bulk that forced him into an unnatural walk to balance properly he felt almost normal. Shuri had told him from the beginning they were building him a new arm, one more natural in appearance and feel but he wasn't sure he wanted it. He thought he had managed quite well without the appendage although on a day like today he would have appreciated having two arms so that he could just get started on fixing the damaged pen without waiting for the assistance of others. A chiming sound from inside his hut drew his attention and he entered his home, seeing the holographic notification above his kimoyo bead bracelet that there was a message for him.

Slipping his hand inside the loop he used his thumb to activate the message from Shuri.

"Sergeant Barnes, are you able to receive a guest? Ayanna Maina has arrived to take photographs for her next exhibition and would like to make your acquaintance again. Would you be able to host her for a few days starting tomorrow?"

Ayanna ... it had been almost 8 months since he last saw her. As a child, she had shown an ability in photography that was nurtured and encouraged to the point where she was now one of the top wildlife photographers in the world. It had been eight months since she appeared at the dinner table in the palace as a guest of Queen Ramonda and they were introduced. Eight months since he walked in the gardens at the palace with her, becoming entranced by her quick wit and gentle soul. Eight months since he last smelled her hair and felt her soft skin under his fingertips when she found her way through his defences to become mshikaji, his lover. Her timing could have been better, but he wouldn't let a few runaway goats deter him from seeing Ayanna again. Toggling the reply command on the bracelet he answered Shuri's message.

"It would be my pleasure to see Ayanna again," he said. "Mpaka kesho, until tomorrow."

He opened his small solar powered refrigerator and pulled out some leftover teff porridge that he made the day before. Starting up his butane one burner stove he put some goat's milk in a pot and added the porridge to it, stirring it to mix the two together. When it was the right consistency, he turned the burner down and pulled out some dates, nuts and apple, chopping them into coarse pieces, then adding them to the mix, stirring until it had heated everything up. He put a couple of spoonfuls of honey on it to sweeten it up. Turning off the burner he put a large spoon into the pot and took it outside, setting the pot on a bench outside of his door. Trying not to eat quickly he spooned the tasty porridge into his mouth, enjoying the different textures, thinking his mother would be proud that he could cook porridge. When he was finished, he took the pot back inside and filled it with water, adding some natural detergent gel. Using a rag in his hand he washed out the pot, rinsed it, then left it to air dry.

While waiting for the men to return he brought his tools out and took another look at what had been done to damage the fencing of the pen. When the other two men returned Silumko brought some quick setting cement with him. Together he and Akida pulled the fence post out then mixed the cement with water until it was the right consistency, pouring it into the hole before sinking the post back in the mixture. While it set, they straightened the metal netting, noting where it was damaged by the noticeable teeth marks that eventually wore a section of it through, allowing a persistent goat to pull at it repeatedly, eventually pulling it completely away.

"This must have taken her days to do this," said Akida. "You didn't notice?"

"I was busy with the Princess the past few days," stated Bucky. "Still becoming educated on what has happened in the world."

"Is that what it's called?" smirked Silumko. "There are those who say you and the Princess are friendly."

Bucky stood upright, looking at his neighbour with surprise at the tone he used with the word "friendly."

"She is like my sister," he declared. "Plus, her brother is my friend and, in my country, if a man expresses interest in his friend's sister, he better be ready to marry her. We also shouldn't be discussing the King and the Princess as if they are regular people. They aren't."

"Sounds like Silumko touched a nerve," noted Akida. "That was a long reply to a general observation."

Huffing a little Bucky went to find more of the wire netting, remembering he had some somewhere. The other two men continued their conversation about him in their language.

"Ninaweza kukusikia, unajua," he called out in Swahili, then repeated it in English for good measure. "I can hear you; you know." He came back, carrying the rest of the roll of wire netting. "You two are like the old men who sit in the shade of their daughter's hut, gossiping about everyone they see."

A flash of white teeth appeared as the two men laughed, knowing it was true.

"We care about you, Sergeant," said Akida. "You are the oldest man here, but you still have a young man's face and body. You must still have a young man's desires. To live like a hermit is not good for a young man's soul. We would see you happy, with a good wife and many children."

"Now you're sounding like the wives who send their unattached daughters to bring me food," stated Bucky, looking directly at them. "Perhaps I don't want a wife, and why would I want children when so many of them here already pester me?"

The other two men didn't respond but they did grin at each other as it was true the children pestered him. They all saw through his façade of stoicism and indifference, to see the real man they all knew and cared about. He was the man who went after a panther that stalked the village a few months before, stealthily tracking it into the bush, then physically wrestling it into submission so that it could be tranquillized and relocated to another location, away from people. The deep scratches and bite marks he received from the strong creature were ignored as he used his great strength to immobilize the panther while a wildlife officer injected it. They all knew he was brave but that was the day they realized he saw the people of the village as family that must be protected. As he sat in front of the healer's hut and removed his upper garments so she could treat his wounds a fairly sizeable audience gathered in respect of his abilities. More than a few women were there just to admire his impressive physique.

Since that time, he had become a fixture in the village, even though he held himself apart from much of their celebrations. Occasionally, he indulged in playing football with the children, the international kind, not the American kind that was seen on one of the few television sets in the village. Whenever something had to be built, he was there. If any heavy lifting had to be done, he would silently appear then leave without waiting for thanks. In many ways he had inserted himself into village life so well that the thought he would someday leave wasn't even considered.

Akida looked fondly at the dark-haired man. "Perhaps we just want you to be happy, White Wolf," he said gently. "You are a man who deserves that much."

Bucky looked up at the man, expecting to see amusement but instead he saw sincerity and smiled back.

"Thank you," he replied. "You are too kind."

With a nod, Akida and Silumko stretched the new wire netting over the now immobile post while Bucky hammered nails into it to fasten the covering. They cut an overlapping section and each of them interwove the new piece with the old fence sections, making sure it could not be picked apart by a devious goat again. Once the fix was completed the three men untethered all the goats, allowing them their freedom inside their sizeable pen.

"Thank you," said Bucky, pressing his clenched fist into his chest and bowing his head. "That's only half my day wasted."

"It's never a waste when you are with friends, White Wolf," said Silumko, with a grin. "Come to my hut for lunch. My wife always makes too much, and I don't have any daughters of marrying age to parade in front of you. You'll be safe for a little while longer."

"Thank you, I will," replied Bucky.

The other two men took their leave and Bucky proceeded to load some more hay into the pen for the goats to eat. Entering back into his hut he took stock of how it looked. He wasn't a messy man but living alone had brought out some bad habits and he knew he should clean up before Ayanna arrived. First, he searched for any dirty dishes that may be around, knowing there were times he would put things down and forget about them. Filling up a kettle with water he put it on the burner then once it got hot, he poured it into the wash tub, along with some detergent gel. As they soaked, he found his broom and swept out the hut. Then he finished washing the dishes and left them to air dry. Next, he checked his bedding. Remembering what happened between him and Ayanna the last time they were together he decided it would be prudent to change the sheets. He had a set of clean ones in his bureau so he changed them out and bundled up the dirty ones, intending to wash them later in the communal laundry hut. Finally, he picked up all of his dirty clothes that were scattered around and put them into a basket for washing later. Satisfied with how it looked he left for Silumko's hut.

After lunch he returned to his hut and took the dirty clothes and sheets from the basket, loading them into a duffel bag, along with some organic laundry gel. He put a paperback book into the bag as well, intending to read a bit. Slinging the strap over his shoulder so that the bag lay across the other hip he walked the short distance to the communal laundry hut. When he arrived he was alone, which suited him fine, but word must have gone out that White Wolf was doing laundry as soon a number of unmarried women, and a couple of men, showed up to do theirs.

"White Wolf, I would have done your laundry for you," said one of the more forward of the women, Chiku, as she sized him up. "Surely, a strong man like you has other tasks to attend to."

"I don't mind doing my own laundry, Chiku, but thank you for the offer," he said.

She shrugged and put her own things in the open washing machine next to him. He tried to ignore her as he sat on a chair opposite and opened his paperback book, Discworld by Terry Pratchett.

"What are you reading Sergeant?" asked Badru, a young man. Sighing, Bucky raised the book so everyone could see the cover. "Ah, a classic of modern fantasy, am I right?"

"So, I've been told," answered Bucky, once more burying his face in the book.

It took several more attempts and failures to engage him in conversation before they left him alone and began talking amongst themselves. As their conversation became louder and more animated Bucky gave up trying to read and checked to see if the washing cycle was done. As soon as the final spin cycle finished Bucky pulled everything out, stuffed it into the duffel bag and hurried back to his hut so he could hang everything on a line to dry. That took him some time but he finally got everything up and sat back on the bench to read his book in peace.

The rest of the day passed peacefully enough and Bucky was able to take his laundry in well before sunset. After he folded everything and put them away he went out to check the fence, satisfying himself that the repair should hold for a long time. Then he set about milking the nanny goats, as they hadn't been milked in the morning due to the broken fence. He would have time to add some starter culture and rennet to the milk to begin the process of turning it into cheese. By the morning he would be able to drain the whey off then salt the curds before forming the cheese rounds. Silumko's wife, Banou, had asked if he was making cheese anytime soon. After the good lunch she fed him, he was happy to oblige. It was well past sunset when he put the muslin over the pot where the curds were already forming.

Stepping outside for a moment Bucky walked away from the light spilling out of his doorway and looked up into the night sky, so full of stars. It was truly spectacular and he tried to get out every night to enjoy the serenity. After he had his fill of it he returned inside his hut, pulled his blanket door over and undressed before getting under the covers of his bed. Sleep came quickly.

The crow of the rooster woke Bucky up but this time he didn't get up right away. Instead he laid back with his hand under his head as he went over his plans for the day. First, draining the whey from the curds of the cheese he started last night, then breakfast, then milking the goats and trading the milk with others for food. That should give him enough time to shower and change into traditional clothing to welcome Ayanna to his home. After that, he would see how the welcome with Ayanna went first before deciding.

As Bucky crossed off his mental checklist of things to do he added one more to his list, lunch with Ayanna. When he last saw her he was living in the palace, his meals provided by the servants. Shuri brought up the plan to place him in a village to learn how to take care of himself while they built his new arm. He wanted to show Ayanna that he had adapted well to the situation, becoming self-sufficient.

After he finished all of his chores Bucky quickly showered and wrapped a thin red shuka cloth around his body. Then he wrapped the second heavier red patterned shuka cloth on top of it, pulling a leather belt on and fastening it around his middle. Finally he knotted a blue shawl and pulled it over his head so that it covered his shoulder implant. Using his right hand he gathered his long hair off of his face and and tied it off as best he could. There was nothing to do but wait and he eventually laid down, breathing deeply and rhythmically to calm himself. It worked all too well as he was awakened from a restful nap by the sound of Uuka and two of his friends whispering White Wolf while they watched him, then the boys scattering when he opened his eyes.

"Kids," he muttered, then he sat up.

He could hear the boys being gently chastised by Shuri outside so he went to the cloth, pushing it aside and bending his head as he stepped outside. The princess was standing by a tree.

"Hello, Sergeant Barnes," she said. "I bring you greetings from my brother, the king. I also bring you a friend."

She nodded towards the lake and he looked past the princess to where Ayanna was standing with her back to him, her hands in the pockets of loose linen trousers, looking out over the water.

"Go to her," said the princess. "I have other business to attend to."

His heart rate increased as he came closer to her, then she turned around and gave him a soft smile. Her curly hair had been pulled into a bun and the white shirt she was wearing made her look almost ethereal against the blues of the water behind her.

"James," she said simply.

"Ayanna," he replied. "You look amazing."

Her smile broadened. "You look good in traditional clothing," she noted. "Red for a warrior. Are you still a warrior, James?"

"That's just because I caught a panther that was stalking some livestock," he replied, almost shyly.

"I heard it was more than just catching a predator," she countered. "It was stalking children as well." She came towards him. "I'm glad you're doing well. If anyone deserves to live in peace it is you, James, mhibu."

He could feel his cheeks get warm at her calling him "dear one." For a moment he almost responded with mpwenda, beloved, but something stopped him, and he just smiled at her instead. Gesturing towards his hut they walked side by side towards the small home that he had made his own. Pulling the blanket aside and fastening it to a hook he let her in first then stood behind her as he described his home.

"I noticed goats in a pen," she commented. "Are they yours?"

"They are," he replied, stepping back outside. "I have several nanny goats that I milk. I either barter the milk or I make cheese from it. The baby goats will stay until they mature then I'll sell them to other people. They are fun to watch so I enjoy their antics while I have them."

She nodded then looked up at him and for a moment he wanted to kiss her, remembering that night they spent together. Before he could act she pulled away and walked towards the bench in front of his hut, patting the empty space beside her as she sat down.

"There is something I have to tell you," she said. "You deserve to hear it directly from me and not via a mutual friend."

"What is it?" he asked, feeling somewhat afraid of the answer.

"I am getting married," she replied, looking out over the lake. "He's one of my body guards that accompany me when I go to dangerous places. On my last assignment we ended up becoming close after we were taken hostage. He kept me safe and was able to manage our escape. Since then we grew even closer and it became love."

Bucky sat motionless, feeling almost sick at her revelation. He couldn't be angry as it wasn't like they had a relationship. It had just been a friendship that became physical one night. Nervously, he licked his lips then he let out a long breath before turning to her.

"Congratulations," he said. "I'm happy for you. He must be quite the man to have won your heart."

"He is," she replied. "He's very much like you." She was quiet for several moments. "If I hadn't met him I would have returned sooner to be with you." She gently touched his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. "You will always have a special place in my heart, James. You are one of the best men I know."

He smiled grimly as she squeezed his hand slightly. "You won't be staying with me tonight."

"No, it wouldn't be proper," she admitted. "I'm staying with the healer. But I would like to take some pictures of you while I'm here, with your permission of course. The world needs to see that you are more than capable of living a peaceful life."

Quietly, he nodded his head and they sat there for some time, not speaking. Eventually he went back into his hut and prepared lunch for them both, bringing out the small table and placing it in front of the bench so they could eat outside. After they finished she took her leave.

"They are having a feast for me," said Ayanna. "Will you be there?"

"I will if you want me there," replied Bucky.

"I will see you then," she replied. "Wear this again. I like seeing you in it."

Looking out over the lake he nodded but didn't watch her as she walked towards the healer's hut. Then he went back into his hut and sat on his bed for some time. After he came to terms with losing a love before it ever really took root he sighed and put an apron on over his shuka. He gathered the cloth that held the solid curds of the cheese, twisting and squeezing it so that the remaining whey drained off. Salting the cheese came next, mixing it in thoroughly he packed the curds into containers then put them in his small refrigerator, covering them again with a cloth while they began curing.

When he arrived in the centre of the village for the feast he paid his respects to the village elders before taking a position with the unmarried men. He sat there throughout the welcome and official greetings extended to Shuri first, then Ayanna, watching her. There was a man sitting next to her, a Westerner with brown hair. They held hands throughout the greetings and the entertainment. She looked so happy, and Bucky accepted that the looks the couple exchanged were genuine. Once everyone was invited to begin eating he used the crowd to slip away back to his hut. He sat on the bench outside watching the sun set, then the sky getting darker until the stars came out. A glowing light approached and he looked up to see Shuri with a lantern. Smiling at him she sat on the bench next to him.

"Are you alright, Sergeant Barnes?" she asked calmly.

"No, but I will be," he replied, after several minutes. "There was never anything formal spoken between us. We had a friendship that I thought became more one night. When you called to tell me that she was coming I ... hoped that she wanted to pursue a more permanent relationship."

He breathed out a quick breath and shook his head. "Sergeant Barnes, I think you mattered to Ayanna more than you think. It was her request to come and see you."

"Doesn't matter," he stated. "She belongs with him, now. I don't get involved with someone who is already in a relationship. I didn't do it when I was a ladies' man; I'm not about to start now." He turned his head and looked intently at Shuri. "I'll be alright, really. In fact, I hope they're very happy together. She deserves that."

"She believes that you deserve happiness as well. It's why she came here."

Bucky didn't answer and after a while Shuri sighed, leaving him alone. Eventually he undressed and laid down in his bed. He didn't know when he fell asleep but when he woke up in the morning Ayanna was there, sitting on the floor with her camera, her hair freed from the bun of the day before.

"I wanted a picture of you in your traditional clothing," she stated, "but you left the feast early. David also wanted to meet you before he returned to Birnin Zana this morning. So, what's the expression ... I'm batting zero for two?"

"How did you get in without me hearing you?" he asked. "I'm not much of a super soldier if you managed to get in here without me knowing."

Ayanna smiled. "You're not the only person with stealth abilities. How do you think I get most of my wildlife shots? I blend in with the environment and I take my time approaching my subject."

"Could you wait outside while I get dressed?" asked Bucky.

"I have seen you with your clothes off," she countered but his face remained the same. She stood up. "Alright, I'll wait outside. You're grumpy this morning, James."

She went out the doorway, pulling the cloth across so he had privacy. While she waited, she went over to the goat pen and took some pictures of the goats. Then she walked down to the lake and took some pictures there. When Bucky joined her, he was wearing his normal work clothes.

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?" he asked.

"No, I'm starving," she replied. "What do you have?"

"Leftover teff porridge, fruit, eggs, and goat cheese," he answered. "I made the cheese myself."

"How about an omelette with some goat cheese?"

"I can make that," said Bucky.

Soon he had a couple of omelettes prepared, filled with fresh goat cheese, and had poured some coffee, with goat's milk since Ayanna didn't like hers without. They ate outside again, with the small table brought out for them to share. When they finished eating she helped him with the dishes, giggling a little as they bumped into each other in the small hut. As Bucky began his normal day she took pictures of him; milking the nanny goats, trading the milk for other food and goods, then he got word that some feed that he ordered had been delivered to the other side of the village.

"I have to go borrow a cart," he said to Ayanna. "You can come with me or wait here."

"How long will you be?" she asked.

"Half an hour, maybe," he replied. "I have to load it."

"I'll come with you," she said.

They borrowed the cart and the donkeys that would pull it. He led the creatures to where the feed was, at the bottom of a slope, near another goat farmer's hut. Ayanna took pictures of Bucky as he hauled the heavy bags of feed onto the cart. It was hot, sweaty work but he approached it methodically, almost as if he had a rhythm. They both heard the talon fighter approach then saw it hover overhead before it landed at the top of the slope where the land was flat. Several of the King's Guard came out, one of them carrying a large case. King T'Challa and his Dora Milaje General Okoye began striding towards them. The man with the case put it on top of the feed on the cart, opening it then assumed a position some distance away. Ayanna watched as Bucky cautiously approached, seeing the contents of the case. Still staring at it he spoke, almost as if he was resigning himself to something dire.

"Where's the fight?"

"On its way," replied T'Challa.

"What's happened?" she asked, as Bucky continued to stare at the prosthetic arm nestled inside the case.

"Trouble," replied the king. "For everyone. We need Sergeant Barnes."

Nodding his head Bucky waited as the king took the arm out of the case. Removing the shawl from around his shoulder Bucky offered the side of his body to T'Challa who attached the arm.

"Swing it backwards in a full circle to set it," advised Okoye.

Following her instructions Bucky did then he looked at Ayanna and smiled softly at her.

"Ask my neighbours to look after the goats," he asked her.

"We will send someone for your things," said T'Challa. "Miss Maina, your fiancé will be coming for you soon to take you to safety. I would suggest you return to the village immediately."

With a raising of his hand that signalled they were leaving the king and his guards started back up the slope with Bucky following them. Ayanna called out to Bucky and ran up to him, placing her hand on his cheek. This time he didn't hesitate, pulling her into his arms and kissing her fiercely. Then he pulled away and caressed her face, looking at her with a soft smile. Turning around he kept walking up the hill until she couldn't see him anymore.

Part 22>>

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abraxasimagines · 4 years

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ANON ASKED: omg hi i found your blog looking for yuri content and i love it so much!! can i request a drabble of yuri and his ashen wolves s/o having an argument and they reconcile once his s/o gets terribly injured on a mission? thx!!

A/N: ohmygod okok i already sense the feels coming on. ( deep breath and grabs onto ten boxes of kleenex ) -mod futaba

WORDS: 905

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you were fuming. you were pissed off. you wanted to grab yuri by his throat, honestly, and try to force him to see reason. the abyss wasn’t a safe place to do these sorts of runs, especially going after mercenaries, much like the mission the ashen wolves were given this month. in fact, the last time aelfric requested such a task, yuri nearly got himself killed. you’d never forget how his blood trickled down his neck, chuckling in dismay as the knife from his opponent nearly nicked his flesh. by the goddess, you were so angry with him, but your worry overpowered your other emotions as you did everything you could to focus on helping yuri feel better.

despite the fact that he was nearly killed, yuri was ready to take on this mission. constance, balthus and hapi were all on board, but you? hell no.

“yuri, you could’ve died!” you argued with him. you two had been fighting for nearly twenty minutes now, a constant bickering that seemed to have no end. usually, you never had arguments, but the fact that yuri can get so reckless during battles started to really get on your nerves, and your emotions. “there is no way we should accept this mission, or at least, only have us five do it on our own.”

“s/o, we’ll be fine. we always are,” yuri drawled in that tone of voice that showed you, he didn’t care too much about the conversation. “i know what i’m doing, and i’m always safe because i’m light on my toes, and i know how to manipulate the enemy.”

“but that can only work a few more times before something bad happens. yuri, please just listen to me!” you practically begged him now, hoping he would see reason. “i’m not asking you to stop doing these missions, i’m asking you to... at least be safe, and take more back-up with you. what would happen if you were outnumbered by the enemy, and we were too far away to save you? huh? what would you do then?”

“find a way to get out of it, of course. unless, there is no option to slaughter them all like pigs,” yuri scoffed with a chuckle.

“yuri! listen to yourself!” you huffed, but before you could bring on the next piece of your argument, yuri held up his hand to stop you.

“you need to have more faith in me. believe in me, s/o or perhaps this whole... thing... may not work after all,” yuri told you coldly, your heart sinking further into your chest. “i don’t need someone hanging around me like a dead goose.” as he walked away, tears slipped from your eyes and a sob became stuck in your throat. how could he say those hurtful things? after all, you were only trying to protect him...

and then, that fateful day occurred. you were doing fine, hapi supporting you with her magic on your left, and balthus taking down enemies on the right. you spotted yuri off in the distance, using his magic and sword to protect himself, but there was that sick feeling in your stomach like something would happen to him. something... horrible.

maybe you should’ve been more focused on yourself, because your emotions started to overthrow your movements, and one of the bandits sneered, finding it easy to slice into your arm with his blade. you cried out in pain, backing away, but he made sure he finished the job by pushing the sharp edge through your left side. you stared down at your hands, which were now soaked in your own blood and attempted to fish out a vulnerary, but your legs grew faint and unable to support you, you collapsed onto the ground. All you remember is yuri’s screams of your name, and then, nothing.

you awoke hours later in the abyss, on one of the beds in the female quarters. your body was screaming out in pain, but luckily, your wounds had been bandaged and the bleeding had stopped. tilting your head to the side, you noticed yuri crouched down at your bed, sobbing into the sheets while he grasped onto one of your hands firmly. you had never see him cry like this, it made you instantly reach over and touch the soft ends of his lovely hair.

“...darling?” yuri asked through his tears, tilting his head up at you and the expression he made -- goodness, you never wanted to forget it. he looked so relieved and so happy to see that you were still with him. “oh my sweet s/o! you’re alive!” yuri was careful to embrace you, making sure he didn’t injure you further as he held you in his arms, nestling his head on top of yours.

“yuri...” you whispered and kissed the front of his neck. “i’d never leave you. you’re stuck with me forever.”

“heh.. as i would want it,” yuri murmured. “i want to apologize for what i said to you earlier. i was just so upset that you didn’t think i was capable enough, but i see now... i shouldn’t be concerned about that. i should be concerned about the future we have together, and that i need to be more defensive for your sake” tears spilled from your eyes as you latched onto him and whimpered,

“i love you so much. thank you.”

“i love you too, my world.”

#mod futaba #imagines #yuri leclerc #yuri #yuri x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #yuri leclerc imagines #yuri imagines #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #fe3h #3h

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cassiabaggins · 4 years

Text

Got tagged by @strictlynofrills to list my top 10 favorite female characters! Thanks for the tag, babe!!! ❤❤❤

Let's see:

Meg Murry from A Wrinkle In Time (shes basically me and I really identify wit her anger at the world and difficulty fitting in, especially as a kid)

Sophie Hatter from Howl's Moving Castle (the book, not the movie, the BOOK!!! shes just so mad and furious and also for the line 'Sophie said a word she learned from Lettie that neither young girls nor old ladies should say', which is Iconic)

Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables (she's weird, she imaginative, she insults Miss Rachel Lynde to her face 65 pages in, she marries Gilbert Blythe and is the Queen, the QUEEN of un realized romantic feelings)

Constance Contraire from the Mysterious Benedict Society (shes a 3 y/o genius with an attitude problem and psychic powers. I can get behind that)

Lucy Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia (a childhood hero. A queen. If she were anymore fierce, she would be a lioness)

Eowyn from The Lord of the Rings ("I am no man! You look upon a woman!" She also struggles with depression, which, girl, same)

Riza Hawkeye from the Fullmetal Alchemist Franchise (loyal bodyguard, expert markswoman, the only on on team mustang with a brain, but also someone trying to do good to atone for all the bad she's done. Called Lust a bitch)

Cornflower from Redwall (she's sweet. Shes kind. Shes loving. She's not at all afraid of Cluny, burns down and entire seigetower like its nothing, loves Matthias for who he is and believes on him wholeheartedly)

Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee from the Books of Bayern (princess turned goose girl turned princess turned queen, starts out a spoiled, helpless girl, grows into a force to be reckoned with. Also, talks to birds)

Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice (dunks on Mr Darcy, fiercely loving and protective of her sisters and family, sees people for who they are)

Honorable Mentions: Kira (Gathering Blue), Winry Rockbell, Mei Chang, and Lan Fan (FMA), Kate Wetherall, Rhonda Kazembe, and Number Two(the Mysterious Benedict Society), Constance the Badger, Jess Squirrel, Song Swifteye, Rose (Redwall Series), Rose (Doctor Who), Evelyn Carnahan (The Mummy), Charmain Baker, Flower In The Night, Lettie Hatter, Martha Hatter, Millie Chant, and Marianne Pinhoe (Diana Wynne Jones), Enna, Dasha, and Rinna (The Books of Bayern)

This was so hard narrowing down favorites, ugh!!! I tag: @dishesoap, @bluebellcotton, @legolaslovely, and @lorilane33

#fma #the hobbit #the books of bayern #pride and prejudice #redwall #the mysterious Benedict society #fmab #lotr #the chronicles of chrestomanci #the chronicles of narnia #aogg #anne of green gables #tag game #about me

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sevenwonderwitch · 5 years

Text

Comfort Inn Ending

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, fluffy smut

Summary: you hadn’t heard from Michael in weeks. When he finally does call it’s urgent.

A/N: ugh. I feel like this is terrible. I haven’t written smut in so long I feel like my last two smut fics were bleh. So if you guys like this one please let me know. 💕

That night we shared at comfort inn, made love like the world was ending.

I groan, looking down at the time on my phone as it rang. The number was one I didn’t know and I was ready to cuss them out. Who calls someone at three in the morning?

“Hello?” I say groggily, sitting up and rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Y/N?” My heart drops to the pit of my stomach.

“Michael?” I ask, unsure if it was really him.

I had known him since he lived with his grandmother, Constance. Even when he moved away from her home he has always kept in contact with me, but as of late I’d heard nothing from him. Not a call to check in. Nothing. I squeeze the phone in my hand.

“Oh my god Michael, where the hell have you been?” Worry and anxiety dripping off of every word. He doesn’t respond, not right away, I almost think he’s hung up. “Hel-“

“Meet me at the Comfort Inn. On 20. I need to see you.” The way he said it, the longing in his voice has my toes curling and my stomach fluttering. We had never been lovers, but I had always been in love with him. “Y/N?” He asks.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m on my way.” I going the blankets off myself and grab my keys, not bothering to change my clothes or put on shoes. If Michael needed me, I would be there. Always.

A half hour later I pulled into the parking lot of the dingey motel. My headlights shining on a lone figure, standing outside of one of the rooms. Dressed in all black with his hands behind his back. I get out before the car is even shut off all the way, flinging myself into his arms. He catches me gracefully, with ease.

“Michael!” I cry, burying my face in his shoulder. He smells like patchouli and sandalwood. I inhale his scent deeply, not wanting to let him go.

He strokes my hair fondly, pulling me with him towards the door, with one arm he reaches behind himself, fiddling with the knob, before pulling me inside. He lets me go quickly.

“Michael what-“ he backs me up against the door, pressing his body firmly against mine. When I look up into his eyes, I can see his urgency, the struggle and desire to tell me something. I open my mouth again to speak, but he presses a finger to my lips.

“Shh.” His voice is soft. “We’ll talk later. For now,” he runs his hand up the side of my bare arm and back down again, I shiver getting goose bumps at the contact. “I want to love you like I should have the first time I met you.” I gape at him, but he leans down, pressing his mouth firmly against mine and every thought I had turns to mush.

I grab him, threading my fingers through his hair, the kiss takes a turn, less soft, more passion, our teeth gnashing against each other as we try to swallow one another whole. He presses firmly against me, fingers curling around my upper thigh to lift my leg around his waist. I can feel him growing against me and roll my hips, causing a desperate moan to escape both of our mouths.

His mouth leaves mine to trail hot, wet kisses down my jaw and the side of my neck. I jump slightly, wrapping both of my legs round him. His hands slide down to cup my ass, pressing me forward, I rub my clothed cunt against his dick. He takes a shaky breath.

“I love you.” I whimper before I can stop myself. He looks up at me, turning to toss me down on the lumpy mattress. He watches me, like a predator stalking his prey.

“I know.” He acknowledges, he crawls over me slowly, sliding a soft hand under my tank top. I never wear underwear to bed, and his eyes rollback when his hand brushes my breast, he gives a light squeeze, flicking my nipple with his thumb before siting back on his heels. He extends his hand, pulling me up into his lap. He rests his forehead against mine, stroking my cheeks with his finger tips.

“Michael?-“

“You make me weak,” he murmurs with a sigh. “Love is weakness,” he pulls back, brushing my hair out of my face. His eyes held nothing but love and adoration. “And the only thing I fear is losing you.” I lean forward, pressing my lips to his collarbone, he tilts his head, granting me access to the soft flesh of his neck. His hands slide back up my tank top, the pads of his fingers pressing along my spine. “No matter what happens,” he gasps when I find a sensitive spot below his ear. “I’ll always keep you safe...my treasure. My angel.” I groan when he jerks his hips, rubbing his hardened cock against my core. I can feel my own juices soaking through my panties and an almost relief floods me as he gently lays me back down. He hovers once more.

“If tonight is all we have,” his words are smooth, low and seductive. His hands slide up my thighs, grabbing my thin black shorts, I lift my hips to help him tug them down. He inhales deeply once my lower hand is exposed and I cry out when he reaches down and cups my hot wet cunt in his hand. “Let me worship you the way you deserve.” He presses the heel of his palm against my clit. My body jerks as my fingers knot in the sheets. When I look up at him his eyes are hooded, pupils wide with arousal, his breath shallow. “Let me taste every inch of you.”

Before I can think he roughly grabs my thighs, spreading them apart. I watch as he slides down, kneeling between my legs and throws one over his shoulder. His nose trails along my leg and up my thigh and I whimper weakly when he sucks on my inner thigh, gripping me tightly, slowing edging his way closer to my core.

I feel his breath first, hot as it hits my clit, and then I feel a tentative tongue flick across my clit. He must have liked the way my body tensed because he does it a second time before placing his mouth on me and sucking on my clit hard.

“Michael!” I cry out, fingers threading in his hair, he groans, the vibrations sending shivers up my spine as he begins to lick at my entrance. His blunt fingernails dig into the skin of my hips as he pins me down, keeping me from moving and making me feel everything.

His eyes never leave my face. He watches my body writhe and my eyes slam shut in ecstasy. He almost doesn’t blink, like he’s in a trance.

He finally pulls away, my juices dripping from his lips, my pussy throbbing, beginning for the release I was so close to. I whine, reaching out for him. He threads our fingers together and positions his still clothed form over me.

“You taste absolutely divine my dear,” he whispers, “have a taste.” He presses his lips to mine and I can taste myself on his tongue. I squirm, opening my mouth wide. He coats my tongue and the inner corners of my mouth in the taste of himself and me. My arousal spikes and I press my body up into his, trying to gain some friction.

His hand that isn’t intertwined with mine, holds me down once more by my hip. “I asked you not to move.” He whispers against my mouth, placing a light kiss to my cheek. His hand slides up my hip and back under my shirt, he pushes my tank up, over my head and stares at my chest hungrily. “Breathtaking.” He leans down, leaving my hand to cup my left breast as his mouth encloses around my right. I moan, running my fingers through his hair once more as he begins to suck and nip at my right breast. I let my hips rise, rolling my naked cunt against the bulge in his pants. He doesn’t protest now, instead he matches my movement, grinding himself against me. He’s stiff and rock hard, I spread my legs as he lifts his mouth from my breast, turning to give my left one the same treatment. “Hmmm.” He hums almost blissfully against my skin.

“Michael,” I moaned, I let my hand slide down his body, I cupped him through his pants, running my hand up and down his shaft. It was huge, bigger than I had expected or imagined.

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling away to look down at me. “You’re so beautiful.” I twist my hand and grin with lust when he bites his lip. “I want you.” I reach up, pushing his hair out of his face, the desperation and longing still plain as day.

“I’m yours Michael. I’ve always been yours.” He grins, leaning down to capture my lips with his briefly before pulling back. He sits up and begins to unbuckle his belt and untuck his shirt.

“You are. Aren’t you?” I watch, mesmerized as he strips in front of me. His fingers gracefully unbuttoning his shirt and hands slowly sliding his pants down his legs. He could be an angel or a devil. It doesn’t matter. In this moment he is all mine.

He positions himself over top of me again, kneeing my legs apart as wide as they could go. He reaches down, taking a hold of his length and pumping it a few times in his hand and positions himself at my entrance.

“I...Ive heard it can be painful…” He says, almost shyly. It’s in this moment that I realize he’s never done this before. This whole time he was following his instincts? And what felt good to him? Was that why he watched me so intently?

I smile, wrapping my legs around his waist and pushing him closer to my entrance. He moans softly when the tip of his cock pushes against my wet folds.

“It’s okay.” I reassure him, longing for him to fill me in a way no one ever could. I lean up and kiss him, gasping as he slides into me raw. It’s different than with a condom, it feels good. He pulls out slowly and pushes back in, pressing hard against me.

“I love you.” I whisper. He just kisses me, suffocating me with his tongue and his lips as he begins an experimental pace in and out of me. I lift my hips matching his rhythm, sure my hips will be bruised later. I don’t care though. It’s slow and steady, but the thrusts are hard.

“Oh Y/N,” he presses his forehead into my shoulder, breathing hard into my neck. he begins to speed up. I grip his shoulders tightly as if my life depends on it.

Michael grunts and groans as he fucks into me, the coil that had begun to tighten when he was eating me out returned and only wound tighter when he began to suck on my neck. My back arches and he presses his fingers into my spine, holding me there as he fucks into me, he goes deeper and groans, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Fuck…” I grip the bed sheets, I can feel him growing harder inside of me, his thrusts becoming quicker, more shallow. “M-Michael” I whine. He looks down at me through hooded eyes, a pleased smirk on his face.

“i-I feel it too.” He moans, slamming into me and grinding his hips into mine.

I lose it. I throw the pillow from under my head and putting over my face, only to have it ripped away by him. “Let me see you!” He shouts, his pace stuttering as he cums inside of me. I scream as my orgasm rips through my body. Just as I begin to come down, the pillow is ripped away, Michael sinks his teeth into my shoulder, biting and sucking there as he cums, pumping deep into me. I feel his body tremor and shake. His back is covered in sweat and his hair is damp.

He sighs, pulling out of me and resting his head on my breast. I run my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head lovingly. His fingers run softly over the bruise forming on my collarbone.

“Michael-“

“Shh.” He stops me, looking up into my eyes. He looks sated, calm, happy. “Rest Y/N.” I nuzzle my nose into his hair and do exactly that.

Michael sits on the edge of the bed. The sun was coming up and he watched the way the rays hit her soft skin through the window. Y/N slept peacefully, only whimpering slightly and reaching for him when he moved away from her.

He needed this. It would be a long time before he saw her again. He needed her to feel what he couldn’t, what he shouldn’t say to her.

He leaned over her, caressing her cheek softly before pressing his lips to hers. She smiled, sighing contentedly in her sleep.

“Until we meet again my beloved.”

It would be a long time. But he would keep his promise. Once outside he pulled out his phone.

“Hello?....yes this is Langdon….make sure Y/N is on that flight. Pick her up from the Comfort Inn on 20 in two hours…”

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thegreatantonchekhov · 4 years

Text

A Trifle From Life

By Anton Chekhov

Translated by Constance Garnett

“He was absorbed in his grievance and was oblivious of the boy’s presence, as he always had been. He, a grownup, serious person, had no thought to spare for boys.“

A WELL-FED, red-cheeked young man called Nikolay Ilyitch Belyaev, of thirty-two, who was an owner of house property in Petersburg, and a devotee of the race-course, went one evening to see Olga Ivanovna Irnin, with whom he was living, or, to use his own expression, was dragging out a long, wearisome romance. And, indeed, the first interesting and enthusiastic pages of this romance had long been perused; now the pages dragged on, and still dragged on, without presenting anything new or of interest.

Not finding Olga Ivanovna at home, my hero lay down on the lounge chair and proceeded to wait for her in the drawing-room.

“Good-evening, Nikolay Ilyitch!” he heard a child’s voice. “Mother will be here directly. She has gone with Sonia to the dressmaker’s.”

Olga Ivanovna’s son, Alyosha -- a boy of eight who looked graceful and very well cared for, who was dressed like a picture, in a black velvet jacket and long black stockings -- was lying on the sofa in the same room. He was lying on a satin cushion and, evidently imitating an acrobat he had lately seen at the circus, stuck up in the air first one leg and then the other. When his elegant legs were exhausted, he brought his arms into play or jumped up impulsively and went on all fours, trying to stand with his legs in the air. All this he was doing with the utmost gravity, gasping and groaning painfully as though he regretted that God had given him such a restless body.

“Ah, good-evening, my boy,” said Belyaev. “It’s you! I did not notice you. Is your mother well?”

Alyosha, taking hold of the tip of his left toe with his right hand and falling into the most unnatural attitude, turned over, jumped up, and peeped at Belyaev from behind the big fluffy lampshade.

“What shall I say?” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “In reality mother’s never well. You see, she is a woman, and women, Nikolay Ilyitch, have always something the matter with them.”

Belyaev, having nothing better to do, began watching Alyosha’s face. He had never before during the whole of his intimacy with Olga Ivanovna paid any attention to the boy, and had completely ignored his existence; the boy had been before his eyes, but he had not cared to think why he was there and what part he was playing.

In the twilight of the evening, Alyosha’s face, with his white forehead and black, unblinking eyes, unexpectedly reminded Belyaev of Olga Ivanovna as she had been during the first pages of their romance. And he felt disposed to be friendly to the boy.

“Come here, insect,” he said; “let me have a closer look at you.”

The boy jumped off the sofa and skipped up to Belyaev.

“Well,” began Nikolay Ilyitch, putting a hand on the boy’s thin shoulder. “How are you getting on?”

“How shall I say! We used to get on a great deal better.”

“Why?”

“It’s very simple. Sonia and I used only to learn music and reading, and now they give us French poetry to learn. Have you been shaved lately?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, I see you have. Your beard is shorter. Let me touch it.... Does that hurt?”

“No.”

“Why is it that if you pull one hair it hurts, but if you pull a lot at once it doesn’t hurt a bit? Ha, ha! And, you know, it’s a pity you don’t have whiskers. Here ought to be shaved... but here at the sides the hair ought to be left. . . .”

The boy nestled up to Belyaev and began playing with his watch-chain.

“When I go to the high-school,” he said, “mother is going to buy me a watch. I shall ask her to buy me a watch-chain like this.... Wh-at a lo-ket! Father’s got a locket like that, only yours has little bars on it and his has letters.... There’s mother’s portrait in the middle of his. Father has a different sort of chain now, not made with rings, but like ribbon. . . .”

“How do you know? Do you see your father?”

“I? M’m... no... I . . .”

Alyosha blushed, and in great confusion, feeling caught in a lie, began zealously scratching the locket with his nail.... Belyaev looked steadily into his face and asked:

“Do you see your father?”

“N-no!”

“Come, speak frankly, on your honour.... I see from your face you are telling a fib. Once you’ve let a thing slip out it’s no good wriggling about it. Tell me, do you see him? Come, as a friend.”

Alyosha hesitated.

“You won’t tell mother?” he said.

“As though I should!”

“On your honour?”

“On my honour.”

“Do you swear?”

“Ah, you provoking boy! What do you take me for?”

Alyosha looked round him, then with wide-open eyes, whispered to him:

“Only, for goodness’ sake, don’t tell mother.... Don’t tell any one at all, for it is a secret. I hope to goodness mother won’t find out, or we should all catch it -- Sonia, and I, and Pelagea.... Well, listen. . . Sonia and I see father every Tuesday and Friday. When Pelagea takes us for a walk before dinner we go to the Apfel Restaurant, and there is father waiting for us.... He is always sitting in a room apart, where you know there’s a marble table and an ash-tray in the shape of a goose without a back. . . .”

“What do you do there?”

“Nothing! First we say how-do-you-do, then we all sit round the table, and father treats us with coffee and pies. You know Sonia eats the meat-pies, but I can’t endure meat-pies! I like the pies made of cabbage and eggs. We eat such a lot that we have to try hard to eat as much as we can at dinner, for fear mother should notice.”

“What do you talk about?”

“With father? About anything. He kisses us, he hugs us, tells us all sorts of amusing jokes. Do you know, he says when we are grown up he is going to take us to live with him. Sonia does not want to go, but I agree. Of course, I should miss mother; but, then, I should write her letters! It’s a queer idea, but we could come and visit her on holidays -- couldn’t we? Father says, too, that he will buy me a horse. He’s an awfully kind man! I can’t understand why mother does not ask him to come and live with us, and why she forbids us to see him. You know he loves mother very much. He is always asking us how she is and what she is doing. When she was ill he clutched his head like this, and... and kept running about. He always tells us to be obedient and respectful to her. Listen. Is it true that we are unfortunate?”

“H’m!... Why?”

“That’s what father says. ‘You are unhappy children,’ he says. It’s strange to hear him, really. ‘You are unhappy,’ he says, ‘I am unhappy, and mother’s unhappy. You must pray to God,’ he says; ‘for yourselves and for her.’ “

Alyosha let his eyes rest on a stuffed bird and sank into thought.

“So . . .” growled Belyaev. “So that’s how you are going on. You arrange meetings at restaurants. And mother does not know?”

“No-o.... How should she know? Pelagea would not tell her for anything, you know. The day before yesterday he gave us some pears. As sweet as jam! I ate two.”

“H’m!... Well, and I say . . Listen. Did father say anything about me?”

“About you? What shall I say?”

Alyosha looked searchingly into Belyaev’s face and shrugged his shoulders.

“He didn’t say anything particular.”

“For instance, what did he say?”

“You won’t be offended?”

“What next? Why, does he abuse me?”

“He doesn’t abuse you, but you know he is angry with you. He says mother’s unhappy owing to you... and that you have ruined mother. You know he is so queer! I explain to him that you are kind, that you never scold mother; but he only shakes his head.”

“So he says I have ruined her?”

“Yes; you mustn’t be offended, Nikolay Ilyitch.”

Belyaev got up, stood still a moment, and walked up and down the drawing-room.

“That’s strange and... ridiculous!” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders and smiling sarcastically. “He’s entirely to blame, and I have ruined her, eh? An innocent lamb, I must say. So he told you I ruined your mother?”

“Yes, but... you said you would not be offended, you know.”

“I am not offended, and... and it’s not your business. Why, it’s... why, it’s positively ridiculous! I have been thrust into it like a chicken in the broth, and now it seems I’m to blame!”

A ring was heard. The boy sprang up from his place and ran out. A minute later a lady came into the room with a little girl; this was Olga Ivanovna, Alyosha’s mother. Alyosha followed them in, skipping and jumping, humming aloud and waving his hands. Belyaev nodded, and went on walking up and down.

“Of course, whose fault is it if not mine?” he muttered with a snort. “He is right! He is an injured husband.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Olga Ivanovna.

“What about?... Why, just listen to the tales your lawful spouse is spreading now! It appears that I am a scoundrel and a villain, that I have ruined you and the children. All of you are unhappy, and I am the only happy one! Wonderfully, wonderfully happy!”

“I don’t understand, Nikolay. What’s the matter?”

“Why, listen to this young gentleman!” said Belyaev, pointing to Alyosha.

Alyosha flushed crimson, then turned pale, and his whole face began working with terror.

“Nikolay Ilyitch,” he said in a loud whisper. “Sh-sh!”

Olga Ivanovna looked in surprise at Alyosha, then at Belyaev, then at Alyosha again.

“Just ask him,” Belyaev went on. “Your Pelagea, like a regular fool, takes them about to restaurants and arranges meetings with their papa. But that’s not the point: the point is that their dear papa is a victim, while I’m a wretch who has broken up both your lives. . .”

“Nikolay Ilyitch,” moaned Alyosha. “Why, you promised on your word of honour!”

“Oh, get away!” said Belyaev, waving him off. “This is more important than any word of honour. It’s the hypocrisy revolts me, the lying! . . .”

“I don’t understand it,” said Olga Ivanovna, and tears glistened in her eyes. “Tell me, Alyosha,” she turned to her son. “Do you see your father?”

Alyosha did not hear her; he was looking with horror at Belyaev.

“It’s impossible,” said his mother; “I will go and question Pelagea.”

Olga Ivanovna went out.

“I say, you promised on your word of honour!” said Alyosha, trembling all over.

Belyaev dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and went on walking up and down. He was absorbed in his grievance and was oblivious of the boy’s presence, as he always had been. He, a grownup, serious person, had no thought to spare for boys. And Alyosha sat down in the corner and told Sonia with horror how he had been deceived. He was trembling, stammering, and crying. It was the first time in his life that he had been brought into such coarse contact with lying; till then he had not known that there are in the world, besides sweet pears, pies, and expensive watches, a great many things for which the language of children has no expression.

#chekhov

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franklyshipping · 5 years

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The Cutest Arrogance (Part 3) ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

WWWOOOOPPPPP TIME FOR ANTI TO GIVE HIS NEXT VICTIM A GOOD OL TICKLIN! But....a lil gentler for this guy...LET'S DO IT!

TAGGING: @anti-switch-glitch and @thehostofleetrature

Echoing footsteps down a corridor. Slow. Measured. The crackle of the body as it moves, purposeful. The sound of the exhale that reveals the grin of excited malevolence. The Host sensed all of these things in careful succession over the 68 seconds that it took for Anti to walk through the library to where the Host was sat on his couch. Silver had warned him, but he'd had already known, already seen. And yet....there was a cloud of genuine terror over the Host's mind and heart, but we'll get to that soon. For now, he stood, Anti's presence made truly clear by his voice.

'How ya doin' Hosty? Havin' a lil hermit day?'

Anti snickered as his eyes flicked to the bundles of blankets Host possessed as the Host himself smiled and folded his arms.

'I am quite well, thank you....and as I understand it, all my days are hermit days.'

Anti snorted and let out a laugh, it was true. If Host wasn't king of the written word he'd be the king of comfort and snuggles...he probably wouldn't phrase it like that though. The Host was stood quite still and relaxed as Anti sauntered over to him, his teeth gleaming as his first real malevolent smirk showed itself; most would have wavered....but not the Host....not yet.

'Yeah well, as much as I love discussing your personal snuggle sessions....we both know why I'm here.'

The Host straightened up a little as he smiled a little more, letting out a gentle hum as Anti giggled gently.

'Yes....though, sending that forewarning was a courtesy I had not anticipated. It was most gracious of you.'

Sarcasm laced the Host's coolly toned voice as he spoke, to which Anti narrowed his eyes. Then, the glitching man started to circle the Host's well postured form, his gaze analytical to the extreme as he replied.

'Well it's the only courtesy you're getting....I'm gonna enjoy breaking you down Hosty....I'm gonna have a loot of fun with ya....'

Anti sneered as his eyes flicked over the Host's body, his mind wondering where the man's worst weaknesses lay. He knew the man could chuckle, and even laugh at things that amused him....but Anti just had a longing to draw out mad mirth from the man who was always so guarded against the extreme. He was so enthusiastic in fact, that he didn't even permit the Host a reply....he just carried on taunting.

'I wonder what'll make ya scream.....your voice is always so deep and calm, but what'll happen when it's crying out and shrieking, hm? What'll happen to your refined nature then?'

On the outside to Anti, the Host seemed unfazed by his words...but I regret to inform you that on the inside, the Host was NOT refined or calm or any of those good, pleasant things. He wasn't even nervous in the giddy, fun connotation of the word. He was scared. He was fucking terrified. Now, just to be clear, the Host found tickling to be enjoyable and fun and pleasant and relaxing....when it was with those whom he trusted, and who knew his limits well. Anti was not someone who knew the Host's limits well, or at all in fact...and the Host could see no future wherein Anti would relinquish in his brutal revenge....and he was terrified. At Anti's words he kept silent and bowed his head....he didn't want to be faced with the humiliation of Anti discovering his fear.

'Ohohoohh what's this? Is Hosty wosty nervoooous? Yohou should be....ohhh you should be. I am going to dig right into you and find every weakness....every single place of vulnerability....'

Anti was smirking in excitement as he growled his words into the Host's ear....because from Anti's perspective, he was being playful. The LAST thing that Anti would EVER intend would be to make the Host uncomfortable in this moment, all he wanted was to tease him to hell to get him flustered, to build up the anticipation. Anti was taking Host's silence as him repressing his flustered embarrassment....but soon he'd find out that wasn't the case.

'Nothing to say Hosty? Does the man of big long words not have a comeback?'

Anti crooned, then decided to crack his knuckles in a loud, intimidating fashion....and that is what ended up bringing down the Host's façade of braveness. He whimpered and backed away from Anti, face screwed up as if he was about to burst into tears.

'S-Stop p-p-please stop....please....'

He trailed off weakly, and at first Anti thought he'd had his flustery victory....until he saw the Host's face. Anti's smirk disappeared and was replaced with an expression of concern....he could see something was wrong. Something was VERY very wrong. The Host was.....actually....scared.

'Host.....Host I....'

Anti took a tentative step towards the hunched, trembling man, but then stopped himself; he didn't want to crowd the Host, Anti knew this needed care and delicacy. He was not adept at those things, god knows he wasn't, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try for his friend.

'Talk to me....Host you....you can talk to me.....'

Anti's gaze was imploring, his voice was slow and quiet and caring....and the Host could feel it. He could feel all of it. It took him a few moments, granted, to collect himself, but soon he managed to raise his head. Anti looked at him patiently, and was beyond attentive when the Host spoke once more.

'The H-Host cannot....the....th-.....I-....'

Anti's heart nearly broke as the Host switched between pronouns...Anti realised this was serious. However, after a few moments more and a few deep breaths, the Host continued.

'I....I c-cannot handle.....r-roughness. I-It makes me....I-...I-I just panic b-because it's so h-hard and it....hurts and I can't b-breathe when it h-happens I-....'

The Host exhaled shakily as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, trying not to let himself whimper. Anti couldn't hold back anymore. He surged forwards and brought the Host into a warm hug....and in the back of his mind was plotting to find out who the fucking fuck hurt Host in the past because they were SO fucking dead. Anti held Host close, but not too tightly, as he whispered.

'Now you listen...you listen right now....I could never go overboard with you, never. You are my goddamn friend and any fucking revenge is worth NOTHING compared to you and you being okay, understand?'

The Host nodded into Anti's shoulder, mind racing with emotions of shock and relief and happiness and embarrassment all rolled into so much of a coagulation that it was hard for the Host to think properly. Anti was patient. He let Host get accustomed to his warmth, Anti knew Host would need a constancy to focus on so he could un-frazzle his head; it was what Anti always needed, so Anti was the perfect person to be helping the Host right now. As Anti rubbed the Host's back gently, he murmured.

'Hey, let's get you on the couch, okay? I bet you want a blanket around ya right about now....'

The Host nodded once more, and thus Anti sat him down on a couch and layered two blankets around his shoulders before pulling the man into his chest. The Host was much calmer now, and filled with gratitude. He subtly nuzzled his head into Anti's chest as a form of thanks, to which Anti grinned and murmured.

'You tryna snuggle me?'

The Host softly smiled and nodded into Anti's chest, making Anti giggle as he played with the Host's hair, all the while looking down at the delicate man fondly.

'Fuckin' cutie.'

Anti ended up chuckling when he heard a whine and felt a shove to his chest, but the Host was still smiling. He felt truly calm and secure...because he knew, without a doubt, that Anti was not going to, nor would he ever, cause him harm. The Host mumbled softly.

'Am not....'

Anti raised an eyebrow, and was silent for a few seconds....before smiling and deciding to test the waters, just a little, just to see what was okay. Anti let one of his hands trail down Host's side....which elicited the subtlest of giggles, and a light squirm. But Anti's hand was not pushed away, the Host did not recoil, and the Host did not tell Anti to stop. Anti grinned with twinkling eyes as he stroked up and down, very teasingly.

'It's naughty to lie Hosty....'

The Host gulped....and instead of there being unpleasant knots in his stomach, there were flutters and tingles. The Host was smiling so brightly into Anti's chest as he meekly replied.

'I-I-I'mnohot.....'

Anti let out a breathy chuckle, he could feel Host smiling against his chest....it was fucking stunning. Anti let his fingers trail down the side of Host's curled up thigh and shin, which elicited a wonderful shudder from the flustered man. Anti continued in a quiet, playful tone.

'Just like it's VERY naughty to sit back and enjoy observing one of your friends suffer....'

The Host let out a soft whine, trying to hide as much of his face as he could, practically clinging to Anti's t-shirt as the tracing gave him goose-bumps; he couldn't even bring himself to reply, poor thing. Anti craned his head down so his lips ghosted over the Host's ear, and his next whispered words were wonderfully tickly.

'In fact.....not only did you observe with amusement as Wilford teased me....but you contributed too. I understand why though, I mean, seeing you blushing and trembling is veeery satisfying....'

The Host let out a louder whine as he scrunched his shoulders, damn this was actual torture. It was so spine-tingling, so shiver inducing, and the Host could feel whimpers and titters and giggles trickling from his lips with every passing teasy second, it was diabolical.

'P-P-Pleheeeeease....'

Anti eyes shone with amusement as he hummed, then relinquished his tracing. He cupped Host's pink face in his hands and tilted it up, so Host wouldn't be able to hide away. Anti purred.

'Hmm, if you truly can't handle my tracing....how about I give you a little choice...'

Host perked up with interest as Anti smirked, continuing.

'Either....I continue tracing over every inch of your delicate form for hour....after hour.....or, you pick three spots of your choosing, and after I have tickled them, I will consider my revenge on you complete. Like the sound of that?'

The Host didn't hesitate to nod, making Anti chuckle as he rubbed the Host's jawline soothingly. Anti observed the Host as his mind raced, giving the flustered man a few moments to decide where Anti would be preying on. Soon the Host gulped, and collected himself....he'd made his choices.

'Th-the three p-places I choose are.....my ears...m-my armpits....and my-....m-m-.....myfeet.....'

The Host exhaled shakily out of embarrassment as Anti's excited giggling filled his ears, and he ended up squeaking when he was softly pressed into the couch....Anti was looming over him now, and was VERY eager.

'Interesting choices.....let's begin....'

The Host nibbled his bottom lip, already giggling when Anti held his wrists and put his arms above his head, before letting his fingers carefully trail through his hair....and down to his, rather small and sensitive, ears. The Host was already in a full giggle fit by the time Anti started tracing the shells of his ears with his blunt nails.

'Ohohoho shihihit shitshitshitshihihit.....'

Anti was in awe at Host reaction....all from just some simple tracing. Anti grinned ferally as his eyes shone, and he started tutting teasingly down at his prey.

'Wow, and here I thought you were supposed to be eloquent....'

The Host flushed a deep pink as his head twitched from side to side, a constant procession of chills were working their way through his body with every passing second. However, the Host wasn't going to allow himself to be diminished quite yet.

'I-I-I th-thohought yohou w-were s-suhupposed to behe intihimidatihing?'

The Host mustered up a cheeky undertone to his smile as he giggled, and felt a wave of satisfaction when he perceived Anti's frustrated snarl.

'You'd better watch it.....you're in no position to be cheeky.'

Anti flicked his blunt nails behind the Host's earlobes threateningly, which made the man whimper and yelp a few times....but....asking the Host not to be cheeky is like asking Anti not to glitch. It was an impossible request.

'Whahat dohoes mehe l-l-lyihing dohown have toho dohoho with ahahanythihing?'

The Host was giggling harder and harder because of his own amusement as he felt Anti get more and more frustrated and riled....but of course, Anti was loving it. The Host was making it a challenge, and Anti loved to have fun with challenges. Suddenly, one of Anti's hands slid into the Host's hair to initiate a grip, after which Anti shot down so his lips ghosted over the Host's ear. Anti delighted in the Host's surprised, high pitched squeal before he purred huskily.

'I bet you're enjoying being smart and sassy.....but you're gonna regret it. I've barely even started.....and the worst is yet to come, I promise ya that....'

Anti's tongue flicked over the shell of the Host's ear, eliciting another squeal from the embarrassed man as he started to squirm MUCH harder than before; verbal teasing seemed to really affect the man of words.

'Shuhuhut ihit! Y-Y-Yohour w-w-....w-wohords d-dohohon't scahare m-mehe....'

The Host tried to sound insistent, but with the tracing and flicking of Anti's nails and tongue at his ears making him giggle and squeal....it was pretty hard to lie. The Host was beyond flustered by, and impressed with, Anti's teasing despite how utterly evil and unfair it was. Regarding Host's reply, it merely made Anti chuckle....and decide to up the ante.

'They don't? Hmmm, perhaps a change in action will....'

The Host gulped when he suddenly felt Anti's fingertips move.....to his arms. They were still raised, and when Anti's nails tapped at the crooks of his elbows and worked their way down, the Host was too nervous to even CONSIDER bringing them down....because god knows how Anti would punish him. The Host would just have to deal with the anticipation and growing threat of those tickly digits venturing closer and closer to his exposed armpits. Anti's next target. The Host's shivers and stutters increased ten-fold too as he grinned in anticipation.

'W-W-Wohohoawoahwoahwoah A-A-Ahanti l-lehet's t-tahalk a-a-abohout this!'

Anti giggled, this whole thing was just an exciting experience for him to be honest. Seeing the Host a) feel so comfortable, b) be so giddy, and c) be SO ticklish just warmed Anti's heart and made him want to prolong the entire thing. Thus, he took his time fluttering his fingers down to the Host's hollows as he cooed.

'Talk about whaaaat? About how flustered and adorable you are?'

The Host spluttered and tried to purse his lips at Anti, but once Anti's blunt nails slipped beneath the sleeves of his short-sleeved shirt....the Host was just gone.

'N-NOHO-fuhuhuckyohouglihitchyfuhuckingmidget!'

Anti's jaw dropped because he had no idea that it was possible to say THAT many expletives in one sentence WHILST being caught up in such a strong stream of squeal-filled giggles. Anti found himself feeling both impressed AND offended by the Host's exclamations.

'Excuse me?! First off, I'm fucking taller than you, and second, you need to wash your damn mouth out! What is it about being tickled that makes everyone so rude all of a sudden?'

The Host let out the occasional cackle as Anti's blunt nails scratched and scraped around in his soft hollows, mercilessly teasing his ticklish skin whilst the Host tensed his arms with the effort of keeping them up. The Host was emitting waves of heat from his face, whilst his mouth seemed fixed into a permanent grin now as he replied.

'BehehecAHAUse yohohou wehehere ahA R-RUHuhude ehehevil a-ahahass fihihirst!!'

The Host's tone was very indignant, making Anti snort in amusement as he used a single finger to scratch right in the centre of his hollows. Anti's demeanour had suddenly become VERY smug as the perfect reply suddenly came to mind; his eyes sparkled with mischievous arrogance.

'Oh yeah? Well if I'm soooo so evil, then why haven't you tried to stop my diabolical actions, hm? It's not like you haven't had the opportunity to stop me this whole time.'

Anti purposefully slowed down his scratching because he REALLY wanted to get a reply from his flustered little victim....and Anti got his wish. The Host's reply pretty much epitomised what being flustered sounds like, his voice being rife with stammers and speed as he tried to hide his face in the crook of his elbow.

'I-I-.....u-uh.....ihitwouldhavebeenuhunfairtohinderyohourrevenge....'

The Host tittered as butterflies coursed through his system, and Anti just laughed. It was a low chuckle-like sound that reverberated and lasted quite a bit of time, like Anti's throat was just making the whole sound echo as he replied.

'Awwwww how considerate and selfless of you Hosty!'

Anti's reply had a coo-like nature, which served to make the Host whine very adorably....before he gasped. Anti had relinquished the teasy torture at his hollows, but the Host still felt like he was on the receiving end of torture. Anti had trapped him with words....since they both knew that the only reason Host had kept his arms up was because he wanted this probably as much as Anti did. The Host merely hummed in response as his breathing got back to normal.

'M-M-Mhmm....'

The Host was smiling bashfully, and occasionally flinching, as Anti absently cracked his knuckles....but Anti knew that the Host wasn't bashful because of his meagre knuckle-cracks. The Host had given him three places....three places to tickle.....and Anti had saved the best for last.

'Awwww why so bashful? Why so blushy Hosty?'

Anti crooned playfully, his voice laced with teasy knowing as the Host giggled and seemed to shrink with embarrassment. Anti really HAD saved the best for last....given that the final attack would be at the Host's favourite tickle spot. When the Host didn't reply straight away, Anti swiped a finger under his chin; that made him squeak and mutter under his breath.

'S-Sohod off.....'

Anti had heard him perfectly well of course, and he smirked.

'As you wish.'

The Host gulped and took the opportunity to hide his face in his hands as he felt Anti slide down his body like a goddamn serpent, and he giggled under his breath when he felt Anti bring his socked feet into his lap and hold them in place....securely. Next, his socks were off....and Anti let out the most tremendous gasp.

'Well would you LOOK at these soft, precious little feet! Woooaaaahhhh....'

The Host ended up snorting in embarrassment at Anti's exaggerated noises of awe....look the man liked pedicures alright?! Anyway, giggles soon followed his soft snort when Anti's tracing digits found the soft skin of his soles...and they were strong giggles too.

'Shuhuhut ihihit ohmygodnohotmyfeheet!'

Anti was amazed at how the Host was giggling so hard despite the fact that he was barely even touching him, and it just spurred him to taunt playfully as his fingertips dragged up and down his feet.

'You chose them as tickle spot number three....you can't take it back nooowww...'

Anti chuckled darkly, making the Host whine desperately and scrunch his feet up tight in a cute attempt to somehow lessen the tickling sensations....now, when has THAT ever worked? Anti of course saw this as a highly defiant manoeuvre, and so used his blunt nails to softly scratch into his wrinkly soles. That seemed to....affect the Host.

'P-P-Plehehease A-A-Aha-nnnn.....p-p-pleheheeaseee....'

The Host had squealed and let out a series of mewl-like whimpers along with his giggle-fit, which made Anti realise that this was probably more torturous for the Host than anything....it tickled so bad, and yet felt better that any massage from any culture across the world. When Anti heard the Host's begging too....it just struck a true chord of happiness within him, and it made him sigh.

'Ahhhh, your begging is just as delicious as I'd hoped it would be....'

Anti crooned as he now skittered up to the Host's scrunched toes, fluttering over them teasingly which increased the Host's whimpering by a wondrous amount. By this point, the Host no longer trusted his voice and was also trying to hide behind his forearms. Anti knew he was close to breaking....and he knew precisely where to tickle to bring down that final layer of defence.

'Now, be a good boy and un-scrunch your toes.'

Th Host let out a spluttery cough....ohhh fuck THAT. He shook his head.

'N-N-Nohoho!'

Anti raised an eyebrow....then gripped the Host's feet. It was a reminder that they were ANTI'S, right then and there. The glitch let out a menacing snarl as he spoke in a deep, quiet tone.

'....if you don't un-scrunch those toes of yours in FIVE seconds....I will make your inner arches my lunch.'

.....the Host's mind raced. He could see into Anti's mind. He knew Anti would still be gentle with his punishment....but he WOULD make good on it, and that was a punishment that the Host knew he would break from unceremoniously....at least with what Anti wanted to do as his finale, there was a shred more dignity for the Host. So, the Host shivered, breathed in, breathed out....and un-scrunched his toes. Almost immediately....one of Anti's hands held all ten of them back as the man purred with satisfaction.

'Good boy.'

Now it began....and the Host just became incoherent in an instant. One finger was all it took. One finger tracing the nooks and spaces under his toes made the Host's vocal chords go into this somewhat hypnotised state of whimpers and whines and drunk-sounding giggles....it was amazing to witness.

'N-Nuhuhuhahahhh....pleheheee...a-ahahahhh.....'

Anti was just beyond the realm of satisfaction as he let his single finger do all the work, whilst he just watched the Host fall apart into a state of utter ticklish bliss. It was sweet and cute as fuck.

'God....I love just....watching someone's strength ebb away.....'

Anti whispered with a feral grin as he watched the Host let out miniature hiccups as his movements got more and more sluggish....until his toes didn't even have a wiggle left in them anymore.

'A-Ahahahanntt-aahahahahahhh nnohooo....'

Anti grinned. He maintained his tickly treatment for a little while, because he knew it wasn't distressing the Host or depriving him of air....it was just embarrassing him and relaxing him into a mushy state of cuteness. Anti wanted to be able to watch for as long as he could. When it got to the point where not even syllables were leaving the Host though, that was when he stopped. Anti was careful as he leaned over the Host again, cupping his jaw in his hands with a fond smile as he whispered.

'Heh.....wow....you really are broken now, aren't ya?'

Anti giggled when the Host lazily nodded into his hands, smiling as he shivered and started to remember that he had control over his own limbs and mind. However....there was one last thing Anti could do....to fluster the hell out of him.

'Say it for me....be a good boy and say it for me Hosty....'

Anti purred softly as he stroked his friend's cheeks....and the Host just seriously wanted to whine that Anti was being an unfair meanie.....but he didn't even have the strength or fight to say that. So, his bashfulness returned as he stuttered softly.

'Y-Y-You b-broke me A-Anti....'

.....okay, NOW Anti was done being a meanie, to the Host at least. Anti giggled giddily as he flopped onto the Host and hugged the shit out of him, which made the Host giggle loudly and drowsily.

'Host....mahan you did so fuckin' great...'

The Host blushed at the praise, hiding in Anti's shoulder as he mumbled his reply.

'Mmmm....th-thanks....a-and thanks for b-being so respectful....I-I know the drive for revenge was strong....'

Anti rolled his eyes and sat up, pinching one of the Host's cheeks and winking before standing up and stretching.

'Weeeeell you were too cute to be toootally mean to....'

Anti cackled when the Host shoved his leg, whining. Soon Anti smiled, eyes absently roaming over the bookshelves and beams of sunlight cascading into the room. He murmured under his breath.

'Two down, one to go....'

After his murmur, the Host let out a noticeable chuckle. Anti raised an eyebrow at the Host, who smiled at him as he pulled one of his quilts to his chest.

'Mmm, good luck. Darling Yandere is a passionate-'

'EW TMI!'

Anti interrupted, making repeated 'ew' noises and covering his ears as the Host snorted and laughed

'Oh shut uhup! All I'm saying is, she's resilient and determined and is very prone to victory. Don't underestimate her.'

The Host grinned giddily....and honestly Anti had to resist the strong urge to tease about how adorable Host was for gushing about Yan like that. I mean, Yan would gush, and Silver was just fucking gush central with his doe eyes when it came to their whole cute poly....but seeing Host gush like that was sickeningly cute. Anti sat back on the couch with a grin.

'Soooo what? Yan's the final boss, you're the mid level enemy....aaand Silver's the fuckin' cute squishy enemy who you end up befriending?'

The Host let out a loud stream of laughter as he nodded.

'Ihi prefer the term maharshmallow for Sihilver, but that's pretty accurate. Either way, you need to go in prepared for Yan.'

Anti grinned and rolled his eyes.

'I will I will....buuuut I suppose I'll have to get my strength up first...'

The Host grinned and immediately brought Anti under the blankets with him for a goddamn nap because....well....naps are fucking great and to be honest I feel like naps are the cures for everything in life. But they're especially important for getting your strength up....for that final boss.

WOOOOOO HOPE YA LIKE THIS LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOOP LUV YOUS XX

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shannonfreakingleto · 6 years

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Do Or Die: Part Thirty One

Jared’s POV

Swallowing hard as the past few months went past in a flash I couldn’t believe the day was here, after planning it for so long I glanced at Shannon who gave me a big grin and a thumbs up before disappearing around the back. Standing under the alter I looked around at my friends and family, fixing my bowtie I was nervous, smiling as the backyard looked great Torrie and I decided to keep it small.

Smiling as the wedding party took their seats I licked over my lips as the bridal march started, seeing everyone standing I took a deep breath. Clearing my throat Tomo slowly walked down the aisle, smiling he pulled the babies in by cart. Waving at them they giggled blowing each of them a kiss Tomo sat the cart beside me, smiling as the twins and Ryder babbled I waved at them. Smiling as they clapped their hands I quickly kissed their heads, smiling as I stood up again Taylor started to make her way down the aisle. Smiling at her she winked as she slowly walked down, feeling my heartbeat in my ears my palms began to sweat.

‘You look absolutely gorgeous Taylor’ I whispered into her ear as I hugged her.

‘Wait until you see Torrie’ Taylor smiled as she took her spot

Looking for Shannon I gasped as he walked out with Torrie on his arm, wiping my eyes she looked even more beautiful than what I imagined. Looking up at Shannon he had a smile plastered on his face, watching them slowly walking down the aisle the tears burned in my eyes. Smiling as they made their way down I stared at Torrie in awe, taking Torrie off of Shannon he hugged me before taking his spot beside me, waiting until Torrie gave Taylor her flowers I smiled. Holding her hands as she turned around I squeezed them softly, blinking her tears away my own burned in my eyes. Smiling she mouthed ‘Hi’ laughing slightly I wiped my tears away as I looked down at her, mouthing ‘Hi, I love you’ I forgot about everyone else that was watching.

Staring into each another’s eyes I wiped my thumb over the back of her hands, smiling as the vicar addressed everyone they sat down. Looking down at Torrie I knew both of our nerves had left and all we saw was each other. Turning to Shannon I took the rings off of him, feeling my fingers shaking I took a deep breath. Turning back to Torrie I lifted her right hand, slowly sliding the ring on her finger I smiled as I spoke.

'I Jared Joseph Leto take Torrie Lynn to be my beloved wife. To have and to hold you, to honour you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and the bad, and to love and cherish you always…I promise you this from the bottom of my heart honeybee…I will stand by you, protect you from everything. I will help raise our family and do whatever I can to give you everything I have…for the rest of my life’ I smiled

Rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand she smiled as the tears fell from her eyes, brushing them away carefully I let my own fall. Resting her cheek in my hand I smiled, turning to get the ring she slowly recited her vows to me as she slid the ring on my finger. Holding onto her hand the goose bumps scattered across my skin, smiling as she slid the ring on my finger she mouthed ‘I love you’ as more tears fell down her cheeks. Mouthing ‘I love you too’ I couldn’t stop smiling, squeezing as the vicar talked I closed my eyes briefly trying to contain my composure.

‘I now pronounce you Husband and Wife’ He smiled

Looking down at Torrie I lifted her chin up looking her directly in the eye I pressed my lips to hers softly. Feeling her smile into the kiss she put her hand on my chest, pulling away as everyone cheered I rested my forehead against hers.

‘I love you Jared’

'I love you Torrie Leto, always and forever’ I smiled

Turning around beside Shannon I picked Ryder up out of the cart kissing the top of his head I held Torrie’s hand as we walked down the aisle as husband and wife. Laughing as people threw paper hearts Shannon took as many photos as he could. Smiling as Shannon took photos we stopped at the end of the aisle, putting Ryder between us we both kissed his cheeks softly. Smiling as Ryder moved in my arms the sound of camera’s flashing made me smile. Resting my forehead against his cheek I smiled as I held my little family in my hand. Holding onto Torrie’s hand we started to walk down the trail, kissing the back of her hand it couldn’t have been more perfect.

'I love you husband’

'I love you too my beautiful wife’

Waiting until everyone had walked down the trail into the barn Torrie and I had a few quiet minutes in the house. Kissing her softly I played with the ring on her finger, slowly walking to the barn we smiled as everyone was settled in the barn. Walking into the room everyone cheered; pulling Torrie to my chest I kissed the top of her head. Walking to the big table, Constance took Ryder from us, helping Torrie into her chair it was time for the dreaded best man speech.

Torrie’s POV

Looking up at Jared I couldn’t believe I was now officially a Leto, laughing as Jared closed his eyes preparing himself for Shannon’s speech. Kissing his cheek I held his hand as Shannon stood up, getting a mic I saw how nervous he was to talk. Holding onto Taylor’s hand he squeezed it quickly.

'Well…I guess it’s my turn to take the floor and give the best man speech….I mean give the quietest man the big speech thanks for that bro! Anyway….I’m going to take this very seriously. I have only a few years ahead of my brother but oh how many fun stories to tell….such as his first kiss behind the bike shed with a girl names Susie who had braces…yeah bet you don’t tell everyone that story bro’ Shannon laughed, looking at Jared his face turned bright red, giggling the whole room laughed. Looking up at Shannon he winked.

‘Or…the time a spotty 12 year old Jared came to talk to me about growing older and telling me about how his “little guys” were different. He then proceeded to tell me about how his di…well you get the point there are children in the room. Yeah you sure worked that out baby Jay didn’t you…’ Shannon smirked, hearing the room burst into laughter I kissed Jared’s cheek looking up at Shannon I saw him relaxing nodding my head I smirked.

'Oh he surely worked that out alright’ I said loudly, laughing as Shannon winked he looked down at his paper again.

'I remember when I got a new camera for my birthday I wanted to take shots of Jared. He took it all seriously and posed from the camera, he climbed in the bath bit a rose you name it he did it. I didn’t have the heart to hell him he looked like a fool. But on a serious note, if it wasn’t for my baby Jay I wouldn’t be where I was today. Yes we fight…a lot. But I wouldn’t change him for anything, he’s grown into a gentleman and an amazing father….didn’t think that would happen huh mom when he stuffed the fake baby in the garbage when he wanted was fed up “playing dad"’ Shannon smiled as he turned to Constance

Putting forehead on Jared’s shoulder I could tell he was embarrassed, kissing his neck I felt him relax beside me. Looking up at Shannon he smirked down at the two of us, looking to the room he bit his lip.

‘Oh but ladies and gentlemen it gets better. The great Jared Leto got turned down. Not once but three times by the same girl…and could you imagine who it was? The beautiful crazy and talented

'And I’d turn him down again! But not tonight it’s my wedding night! I love you too Shan!’ I giggled, smiling as Shannon laughed loudly he threw his head back as the whole room erupted with laughter

'As long as he remembers what I told him all those years ago he should be good tonight sis…there are a 1000 more embarrassing stories I could tell you of Jared and I growing up but I think we should put him out if his misery. I am proud to call you my little brother Jared. You inspire me every day and I love where we are in our life, personally, in the band and the things we have around us. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have any of that so thank you. And one last thing before we toast….I thought it would only be right of the best man got the groom a present so….here you go Jared I found these the other day and had to buy them. There like the spider man boxers you wore when you were five, I stole them and got them wrecked when I was playing mom threw them out….I’ve never seen you so heart broken. So now…here you go you can get a new pair and you can wear them tonight for Torrie! Now remember to change them every day! I love you bro…To Jared and Torrie’ Shannon smiled as he lifted his glass up

Toasting I smiled putting my glass down I pushed Shannon as he went to sit down laughing as he stumbled he grabbed the table. Smiling as Shannon sat down I kissed Jared softly as he was still embarrassed.

'it’s ok baby I love you….even with the boxers’ I giggled

Hugging Shannon I couldn’t believe he was now officially my brother, feeling the tears in my eyes I knew I wouldn’t have anything I had now if it wasn’t for Shannon. Pulling away slightly I kissed his cheek softly, smiling down at the ring on my finger I couldn’t believe I was now Torrie Lynn Leto.

Jared’s POV

Spending the rest of the night dancing and posing for photos the smile never once left my face. Saying bye to a few of the guests I was ready to call it a night and go to the hotel we had booked for the night. Kissing Ryder on the head I handed him over to my mom who was going to watch him for the first night, kissing her cheek softly she smiled at me happily. Taking Torrie’s hand we left the barn getting straight into a car to go to a hotel, laughing as people threw more heart flowers at us I squeezed Torrie’s hand.

Making the short distance to the hotel I held Torrie’s hand as we booked in before going up to our room, taking the elevator up I kissed the top of her head. Walking along to our room I put the key card into the lock pushing the door open I picked her up and carried her into the room kicking the door closed I pressed my lips to hers. Kissing her softly I walked straight to the bed laying her down on it I dragged my hands up her sides. Pulling her to sit up I kissed her neck as I slowly unzipped the back of her dress, pulling her to her feet she clung to the front of her dress holding it into position. Kicking my shoes off I quickly undressed, standing in my boxers Torrie winked at me. Undoing the button at the front she let her dress fall to the floor. Biting my lip I moaned loudly looking her up and down I felt my dick twitch.

'So? Now you see all of it…Do you like it?’ Torrie smirked, groaning I grabbed myself

'I fucking love it!! God you look so fucking hot….I’m making love to you with it on’ I smirked

Holding onto her hips I slowly walked us back to the bed, kissing her softly I slowly pushed her back to lie down on the bed. Dragging my hands up her sides I kissed down her chest softly, smiling as she moaned at my gentle touch she ran her hands through my short hair. Nipping at her skin Torrie’s breathing started to pick up smirking I felt her melting in my hold as I kissed her neck. Kissing down her body again I slowly pushed her legs open. Standing up I pushed my boxers off throwing them across the room moaning as I looked at her again I grabbed a condom as I ran my fingers through her I smirked. Seeing the chills spread across her body I rolled the condom on, running my fingers through her I rubbed her clit softly.

Moving in front of her I ran my tip up and down her length, pushing at her entrance I slowly slid in. Resting my forehead against hers, her back arched off of the bed. Smiling as she pressed her body to mine I wrapped my arms around her leaving no space between us. Kissing her neck softly I pushed all the way in, slowly dragging my hips back I kissed her neck again as I slid into her. Holding onto her as tightly as I could she hid her face in my neck, picking the pace up a little I bit my lip as her moans sounded around the room. Dragging her nails down my back Torrie pushed her hips closer to mine, moaning I slammed into her hard. Biting on her neck I sucked on it, moving our bodies against each other my fingers danced across her skin. Slowing my hips down we both enjoyed the feeling of each other, picking the speed up a little I thrust into her with long and hard strokes. Taking my time we got lost in each another’s movements kissing and caressing every inch of each another’s body.Feeling Torrie trembling underneath me I knew she couldn’t hold off much longer, sucking on her neck I kissed her softly. Smiling as she ran her fingers up and down my back she melted into my embrace.

'Baby…’ Torrie moaned

'I love you’ I whispered, opening her eyes again she smiled

'I…love you’ Torrie panted as I rubbed her clit

Pressing my lips to hers softly I lifted her hips slightly, pressing against her g stop I thrust in as far as I could grinding against her clit at the same time. Feeling Torrie’s body trembling under mine I sucked harder on her neck. Slamming into her one last time her eyes rolled back, arching her back off of the bed she pressed her chest to mine. Feeling her hitting her climax she grabbed the bed, dropping my head back I held onto her hips as I came hard as I let out a shaky breath. Kissing Torrie again softly I knew it was going to be a long night of love making.

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a-mad-scientist-approaches · 6 years

Text

The Cipher Conspiracy (5)

Another one! I think we’re getting to the halfway point now. I swear I don’t mean to make the chapters so long, it just happens. In other news, university has started up, so that’s why this took a little longer than usual.

If you don’t know what EMP stands for, it’s electromagnetic pulse. That’ll be useful for this chapter.

Many thanks to @hntrgurl13 for letting me unleash my imagination on her OC Adeline Marks. Both these people are so awesome!

The Addiford ship belongs to @scipunk63. It’s so fun to write!

AO3 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Chapter 5: Pyat' raz Ocharovaniye

Sacramento, California (USA) ∆

Icy rain dripped down Carla’s back, causing her to shiver even more than she already was. Today was a cold, cold, day. Since Stan had taken the car when he left for Oregon, she was left to make do with public transport, and she had to say, she couldn’t wait for her boyfriend to get back. Walking to the train station on a winter morning was not something she would have done by choice.

“Agent McCorkle?”

Carla looked up from the rivulets tracing their way around her boots, her umbrella momentarily threatening to fly away. A tall, dark woman was walking towards her. Carla did not envy her shaven head – her own was covered in hair and yet it still had goose bumps.

The woman’s voice sounded familiar. “That’s me,” Carla replied with a hint of caution.

“You wanted me to tell you everything I know about the Cipher Wheel,”

“Jheselbraum,” she realised.

Jheselbraum motioned to an undercover alcove provided by a closed coffee shop. Stepping into the shelter, Carla said, “I didn’t expect a face-to-face meeting,”

“There’s no way to say this without sounding creepy, but I wanted to catch you completely by yourself,”

“You’re right, that is creepy. Explain, please,”

Jheselbraum glanced around, making sure they really were really alone, and then said, “The FBI field office has a leak. Someone is feeding information on your investigation to the Cipher Wheel,”

There were several things that Carla could have answered with, but none of them seemed adequate. Sure, her paranoia had been spiking ever since she took the lead on the Cipher Wheel case, but being right? That was a whole other deal. She hadn’t thought there actually were spies watching her every move, but now it turned out she was wrong on two counts.

“You see why I wanted to talk with you alone?” Jheselbraum said into the silence. “Your case is being monitored, and by extension, so are you. Only within the workplace, I expect.” she added as Carla’s mouth opened in alarm. “You haven’t become enough of a problem for constant surveillance. However, this mole is also slowing down the investigation, and so I urge you to keep your collaboration with Oracle Division to yourself.”

“You still want me involved?” asked Carla, surprised.

“Against the Cipher Wheel, our best chance is to stand together.” Jheselbraum raised her umbrella and stepped back out into the rain. “I will send an agent to you shortly who can provide you with the information we have collected. Until then,” Jheselbraum nodded her farewell and smiled, then walked off. She soon disappeared into the deluge.

Marks Incorporated building, Beijing (China) ∆

Stan had to say, he was not impressed with Beijing. Smog clogged the city and it was not uncommon to see people in breathing masks walking the streets. Although, he supposed the cover on really bad days could be useful for committing crimes, which, to be honest, was probably what was going to end up happening.

Oh wait.

It was happening right now.

He really hoped this wasn’t going to get on Carla’s radar.

At the moment Stan was being led to a meeting of most of the board members for Marks Incorporated, using his (slightly tarnished) silver tongue to pose once again as Stetson Pinefield, a representative from the owners of the company themselves. Stan wasn’t sure what he was going to talk to the board about, but it was going to be good and would completely captivate them. When he thought of something, that is.

The breaking and entering was occurring at another location. Ford was at the actual manufacturing facility, and it was Stan’s job to provide a distraction which would stop the board members from realising what was up when – if, if – something went wrong.

On the subject of Ford, Stan was getting worried about his brother. He hadn’t opened up an inch since Stan had first talked to him in Oregon, which was unexpected to say the least. He had thought Ford would loosen up eventually, but no luck, even after two weeks straight together. His questions about what the shimmern was for were shut down. His prying about who they were working for was diverted. “Primarily research-based” his ass, nothing was this secretive unless it was dangerous. And if Ford was involved then Stan would stop at nothing until he found out exactly what was going on.

“In here, sir,” said the aide, directing him through the conference room door.

Crap. Maybe he should have been thinking about a cover story rather than Ford.

The board members stopped talking and turned as one to stare at him when he entered the room. He could feel their gazes nailing him to the wall. Stage fright started to freeze him up, even though weaving lies and charming the uncharmable was what he was born to do. It was as though he was in second grade giving a class presentation all over again. It would be so easy for the mild confusion on their faces to change to accusation. All he had to do was mess up, say the wrong thing, use the wrong lingo, and they’d be on him like piranhas.

Maybe there is something to this ‘planning ahead’ thing Ford’s so keen on.

“Uh, hi, I’m, er, Sta – Stetson Pinefield, I’m a representative from James and Constance Marks, and I’ll be sitting in on this meeting-type deal.” More stares. Stan started to sweat.

The door opened again.

“Howdy there, ladies and gentlemen, ah’m Fergus MacIntyre, and I’ll be representin’ James and Constance Marks in this meetin’ today,”

It was the bean man. The bean man from Oklahoma – who was actually a spy. What the hell? How was this even possible? Stan was sure he’d left no trace, nothing to identify himself by, or be tracked with, so what was this guy doing coming after him?

The man in question didn’t give any acknowledgement of Stan. He simply waited coolly for the board members to respond.

“You are . . . both . . . here representing Mr and Mrs Marks?” queried someone hesitantly.

Now the spy looked at Stan. It was barely for a second, but Stan saw all he needed to: the man was taken aback and very worried at that comment. He was here for some other reason, and he thought Stan was the actual representative.

Everyone was caught off guard for some reason or other, but Stan was back in his territory.

“Yes, good catch, we are both straight from the bosses ‘emselves. You were expecting this, weren’t you? I mean, there’s two bosses, so there’s gotta be two reps! Of course, that would be obvious to you, wouldn’t it? Mr and Mrs Marks wouldn’t employ a bunch of idiots to run their business!”

There was a hurried clearing of throats, shuffling of seats, and murmuring of agreements. One person gestured politely to the table, and Stan and the spy took their seats. The spy was stealing glances at him from the corner of his eye, but other than that he was inexpressive.

“So, what did Mr and Mrs Marks wish to discuss with us?”

Stan blanked again. Why hadn’t he thought this through?

“We’re here to negotiate the reestablishment of the original release date of all of Dr Hansen’s products,” said the spy. He then sent Stan another side-eye, as though preparing for a contrary exclamation.

Jeez, why is he in the field? He’s about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.

“Yep,” Stan affirmed.

Marks Incorporated manufacturing facility, Beijing (China) ∆

Ford crept around the side of a long, low, brick building. He was walking parallel to the manufacturing facility’s security fence, after finding and subsequently rejecting several entry points. It was very well guarded tonight. Or maybe this was average for Marks Incorporated.

Passing into an alley between two buildings, he could barely see five feet ahead. The spotlights were not able to shine any light here. Ford pulled the night vision goggles out of his bag. These were much lighter than the military version, and looked more like skydiving goggles than anything else. Plus, they were much more effective; one of Ford’s own inventions.

Looking through them was like looking into a shady alley on a reasonably bright day. Full colour, everything thrown into sharp relief. This was the only reason Ford saw his attacker coming.

He sidestepped as a shadow on the wall lunged at him. The figure regained their balance quickly, spinning around to face him, sophisticated night vision goggles covering their own eyes, blonde hair tied out of the way –

“You!”

Agent Marks gaped at him, and Ford had to admit that he was astonished as well.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“Why are you here?” she said at the same time.

“Oh,”

Neither of them had been expecting to see the other here, apparently. They were on their own independent missions, which both just happened to be at this location. Looking at Adeline’s face, it seemed she was just as lost as him.

Well, first step was to notify his partner.

“Stan, come in,”

“Fidds, something’s happened,” Adeline was a millisecond behind him, and they both straightened up and gave each other interrogatory glares, trying to give the impression that they were the agent in control of the situation. Which was pointless, because he was the one in charge, and he should know it!

Stan finished making his excuses to the bathroom. “What is it?”

“Agent Marks is here,”

“Ford, this is getting ridiculous! How have you run into her on three separate missions now? I swear, either you’ve rigged up some kind of Adeline-magnet or you’re intentionally tracking her!” Stan burst out.

“How would I even-? No, never mind. It wasn’t intentional!”

“Whatever, Ford. Next time, I’ll do the field work and you can be holed up in some room by yourself. That way we might be able to avoid any more close encounters,”

“‘Close encounters’ is usually used to refer to aliens. Although, you do bring up a good point. This has been a very weird set of incidents in recent days. Perhaps if weirdness itself was a measurable activity, and it existed in a state of flux, pulling in certain things, or people-”

“You’re not fated to be together, Ford,”

“I never said-!”

“Just keep going as best you can. I’ve got my own situation: that other spy from Oklahoma’s here. He must be Marks’ partner, and he thinks I’m the actual representative,”

Ford got his mind back to the mission. “Keep it that way for as long as you can,”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna tell him ‘Hey! I’m an intruder too! Let’s be buddies!’ I gotta get back,”

“Copy,” said Ford.

Adeline had finished her conversation as well. “Okay, Agent Pines, listen up.” She said authoritatively. “I’ve had clashes before. The best thing to do is stay out of each other’s way, otherwise it’s going to end up as one big mess.”

Her eyes widened, as if she’d just remembered an important fact. “Like in Oklahoma! Give me back that necklace!” She dived at him, propelling him back against one wall and rooting through his pockets and bag.

“Adeline! Hey! Stop it!” She did not. “Why would I have it with me?!” He said, before she attempted a cavity search.

Adeline narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but stopped all the same. “Fine,”

“Alright then. Let’s get to it,” Ford said decisively, carefully edging out from the gap between her and the building and heading for the last possible entry point.

Adeline followed.

“What now?” he asked, ready to fend off another attack.

She raised an eyebrow. “To our missions? I need to get into the facility and plant an EMP, and I assume you need to steal something and ruin someone else’s day,”

Ford ignored the jab. He had other things to focus on.

This entry point was not as secure as the others, but it was still flooded with spotlights and watched by private security enforcers. A high chicken wire fence, topped with barbed wire, enclosed this section, but unlike the rest of the compound, it was not electrified. This must be a frequently-used loading yard.

He would not be able to get past this point either. At least, not alone.

“Should we work tog-?”

“Yes,” Adeline answered resignedly, with a glum look at the fortifications.

Marks Incorporated building, Beijing (China) ∆

Stan sat down in his chair, and the supposed Fergus MacIntyre did the same, coming in from another bathroom to unobtrusively rejoin the discussion. There was a screen on the wall displaying a graph which Stan tried to look interested in.

“. . . indicates that yes, we are rich . . .”

The meeting so far seemed to be a general overview of the company’s profits and losses. Nothing he needed to pay attention to. All he had to do was sit back and make sure these people were kept occupied until Ford was finished.

Well, this is boring. Might as well do something useful.

The spy was sitting right next to him, and as far as Stan knew, his brother hadn’t managed to figure out who he or Marks were working for. Then again, he might’ve and just not told me, he amended sourly.

“Whaddya think?” he asked quietly, nudging the man.

MacIntyre was staring at the screen slightly open-mouthed. Then he massaged his temple with two fingers.

“This is . . . unconscionably skewed data,” he said in disbelief. “Where’re their analysts? Why’re they employin’ them?”

Stan shrugged. “Business is business, I guess. But that graph looks like things are going well, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is those results just can’t be right. I might not know a lot about corporations, but a loss of zero percent in the past decade? I don’t believe that,”

“How can you not know a lot about corporations?” Toyed Stan, holding back a grin.

That seemed to bring MacIntyre back to reality. Stan could see the words “You’re a spy, act like it,” float across his brain.

“I – ah – I’m new in this here field. Mainly worked with computers before.” He coughed, and got back on track. “But if these darn moneywranglers are makin’ this much dinero, it ain’t through legal means. They must be underpayin’ the workers or bribin’ their allies, or somethin’,”

“Seems pretty smart to me.” Shrugged Stan. “More for yourself if you underpay your workers.”

“’Course ya think that.” Scoffed MacIntyre. “Why wouldn’t you? Yer on top. You don’t need ta think about helpin’ up people who’ve fallen in a hole and can’t get out. But that don’t mean you should shovel more dirt on top o’ them. That’s just cruelty.”

“So, what, your weapon of choice is the metaphor?”

“I just think people should help each other is all,” the spy said tightly, turning back to the presentation.

Stan couldn’t believe how easy it had been for the guy’s composure to slip. He was clearly used to wearing his heart on his sleeve, so Stan pegged him for someone who didn’t usually do this kind of thing. He’d mentioned computers, so a hacker? Probably. He was smart, that was for sure. Ford would like him. To be honest, Stan might have too, if not for that snub about not doing enough to help people. Hell, he’d been in that hole the guy was talking about – until Carla pulled him out (mostly). No one could say he didn’t understand what it was like to be in that position. Who was this guy to say that? He was trying to help, he was doing enough for Ford. He was.

Marks Incorporated manufacturing facility, Beijing (China) ∆

Addi dropped to the ground on the other side of the fence. Stanford joined her a moment later. It would only be seconds before the few guards noticed them in this glaring light, and to be honest, it was a miracle they hadn’t been spotted already.

Stanford made a reassuring gesture, then drew a gun with a triangular barrel. He aimed at an area across the compound, to the other side of the listless guards, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

“Nevermind, I can-” Addi started.

Then a truck exploded. She could feel the heat from thirty metres away, the flames were so intense some burnt themselves into invisibility, and the sound was so impressive it didn’t just deafen her, it slammed into her chest like an extra heartbeat. The spotlights blew out from the shockwave, shattered glass and melted metal flying everywhere.

“What is that thing?!” Her yell went unnoticed in the guards’ panic.

“Laser gun!”

“Cool!”

Stanford beamed and started running for the vacated entrance. “Thank you! Everyone else I’ve shown it to just complains that they can’t see the laser!”

“Well, you’ve got to be stealthy, right?” said Addi, darting through the door he held open for her as a second explosion rocked the facility. There must have been a chain reaction. “This is espionage. We need subtlety in our line of work.” More flames painted glowing sunsets on the wall before the door closed. Guards screamed for emergency services.

“I’m glad someone understands,”

Marks Incorporated building, Beijing (China) ∆

The talks kept droning on. MacIntyre hadn’t even managed to say his part on release dates or something. Stan stayed out of it all for the most part, occasionally volunteering an opinion or agreement to show he was paying attention (which he wasn’t). The spy sat in stony silence, probably trying not to give himself away any more than he already had. He was damn lucky Stan was a spy too.

Through a wall of glass windows, he saw the light for the elevator blink on and watched it with mild curiosity. The doors opened to reveal a very harried aide who looked more like they’d run up the stairs rather than taken the elevator. That wasn’t good. Coupled with the loud crackle in his ear a minute ago (which had sounded suspiciously like an explosion) that he had heard despite the fact that his earpiece was switched to the lowest volume setting possible, then it was probably because of Ford.

Time for a distraction.

The aide passed out of Stan’s view and a moment later there was a frantic knock at the conference room door before it burst open. “I am so sorry to interrupt but there’s been-”

Stan stood up and interrupted him. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think now would be a great time to talk about bankruptcy,”

The entire room went silent, all eyes fixed on him. The aide went stock-still, then quietly closed the door and left, pretending nothing had happened. Stan congratulated himself.

“Bankruptcy?” said someone in a small voice.

“Shut your mouth! The B-word is not appropriate language for an office environment!” snapped someone else. Then they addressed Stan. “What’s this about bankruptcy?”

“How come you get to say it?”

“It’s for your own good, sweet innocent pastry,”

“Aww,”

“Also, I’m older, so I’m the boss of you,”

“No fair! I’ll tell human resources on you!”

“Human resources are older than you too!”

“Bankruptcy is what this board is leading us into!” Stan said loudly over the emerging din. Jeez, these are the people in charge? They’re complete babies. “And it’s all because you’re making an irreversible mistake by launching those products early, as my good colleague will now explain.” He stared pointedly at MacIntyre.

“Ah! Right, yes.” The spy stood up as Stan sat down. “Ya can’t release Dr Hansen’s inventions.” He said, addressing the executives seriously and professionally. “Not until the original launch date. That time was decided on because it was safe to do so, an’ for the life of me I can’t imagine why you changed it!” MacIntyre lifted his arms in slight exasperation. “These products are so valuable that the stock market will be put way outa wack, not to mention more’n a few banks will close up shop. Marks Incorporated will make some big bucks for sure fer a while, yes, but in the long run we won’t be much better off. Bankruptcy’ll definitely be an optio-”

“He means it’ll definitely happen!” Stan hurriedly stepped in. “One hundred percent certain of it.”

“We’re going to need to see some research before we commit to anything,” said someone at the head of a table.

“You didn’t before you committed to this. Anyway, the word of James and Constance Marks, the owners of this company, should be enough for you. What are you, some kind of CEO?” Sniped Stan.

“Actually, yes,”

“Well even better! Because have we got some data for you! Right, Fergus?”

MacIntyre gave him a strange look. “Yes, er, Stetson, o’course I do,”

“Oh, good,” Stan sighed in relief and settled back into his chair. He’d been worried for a minute there, but he should have expected someone like MacIntyre, or whatever his real name was, would prepare well for this.

A whole bunch of papers came out and were spread across the table. That should be enough to keep them occupied for a while. At least, until the next off-site disaster.

Marks Incorporated manufacturing facility, Beijing (China) ∆

They found themselves on the ground floor of the main production warehouse. Addi had never seen a place so big. Conveyor belts stretched into the distance, and a few machines efficiently worked away at screwing pieces of metal together, flattening out sheets, and scanning devices, all the while monitored by screens displaying the interiors of whatever was on the line. No people were in sight, as it was late at night, and Addi (and no doubt Stanford too) had already ensured that the security cameras were playing on a fifteen-minute loop.

There was still the problem of what to do with Pines. Usually, she would stay as far away as possible and hope their missions didn’t clash. But then again, their missions had already clashed several times, and she still didn’t know who he worked for.

She glanced at Stanford out of the corner of her eye. He was glancing right back at her.

They drew their guns at the same time.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” said Stanford ruefully.

“Really? I’ve been looking forward to it.” Countered Addi sweetly. “All you’ve done is make things difficult for me, and I’d really like to repay that favour.”

“Believe me, you have. With interest,”

“Who’s the one with the necklace, Pines? Stop complaining.” She said sharply. “Especially when you consider the way you got a hold of it.”

All she could say was that she hadn’t meant to make things personal.

He cocked an eyebrow and Addi had a feeling that she’d just completely submerged herself in this can of worms. “You mean, when I helped you establish a cover story for no reason other than to help you complete your mission, and then proceeded with my own assignment, which you were perfectly able to prevent, but didn’t?”

That stung, as though an elastic band had been snapped across her wrist. “I was not in any position to stop you and you know it!” She seethed. “I was completely off my game because of that – that whole mess with my – you know! Don’t act all innocent like you weren’t exploiting it! I know you could tell I was tense; you wouldn’t go five minutes without giving me some concerned puppy-eyes! But you still thought it was okay to use my situation to your advantage so I wouldn’t be expecting it when you went for the necklace,”

“Adeline, you know in our line of work the mission comes first and sympathy last. Would you not have done the same thing?” He was sure he was right about this, that was obvious, but was there also a tinge of regret in his voice? She might be imagining it.

To be honest, Addi wasn’t sure what she would have done in his position. She knew the demands of her work, but she’d like to think she also had some compassion left.

“I would have at least considered . . . not . . . maybe doing it,” Addi said reluctantly. She frowned and looked away. This was ridiculous and she knew it. She would accomplish nothing by castigating him now, and while she was angry at him, it would be more accurate to say she was angry at the whole situation. She felt . . . betrayed? Was that the right word? By her parents’ expectations, by the sudden aid Stanford had given and then so unceremoniously taken away, by Fiddleford’s absence when it really mattered (not that it was his fault), and by her own self-confidence. Yeah. Betrayed.

After a quiet moment, Stanford said slightly shamefacedly, “I, um, I did. Consider it, I mean. I realise that doesn’t mean a lot now, because I went ahead with it anyway, but . . . if that’s the least you could have hoped for then it’s far less than what I should have done. I know what it’s like to be a disappoint to your parents . . . and vice versa.” He cleared his throat, like the next couple of words were a struggle. “I’m sorry.”

Their guns were almost lowered all the way anyway, but Addi made the truce official by holstering hers. “Thank you,” she said steadily.

There was an unsure moment.

“I think this is against orders.” Stanford ventured, but made no move to redraw his weapon. “We’re still technically enemies, even if we’re not on opposing sides of a mission.”

Addi volunteered a grin. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t,”

Stanford seemed to seriously consider the legal implications of this for a minute, which made her wonder about who he worked for that would police something so sternly he even had to analyse his friends. She knew Jheselbraum for one was happy to let her keep private moments to herself if they did not overly influence a mission. These were kind of vague parameters, so Addi took some liberties.

Eventually she decided to break the tension by giving him a warm hug.

“Oh. Um,” said Stanford, carefully hugging her back. She didn’t think he was used to this.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Said Addi. “I need to arm an EMP in here in case my partner can’t convince the board to stop the manufacture of Dr Hansen’s other inventions. That should put this place out of action until I can figure out something more permanent. What do you have to do?”

“I need a some of these machines.” Stanford gestured around the warehouse.

“You mean those big assembly line machines?” Addi asked doubtfully.

“They’re collapsible.” Stanford assured her. “I should be able to fit the two I need in here.” He unslung the bag he was carrying from his shoulder and showed her.

“Have you accounted for the mass? They’re not going to be any lighter just because they’re smaller,”

Stanford faltered, then shook his head. “It should be fine,” he said confidently.

“Tell me if you need help,” Addi said, walking off to the centre of the building.

“You too,”

Addi set up the electromagnetic pulse safely under a workbench. No one would find it accidentally, and she could activate it remotely at any time, shutting off all power in the building indefinitely. If Fiddleford did manage to convince the board, then there would be no need for it, and she could permanently deactivate it. Although, Jheselbraum’s superiors would most likely tell her to leave it online.

There was a banging and grating sound, where it looked like Stanford was trying to dismantle a large pair of tongs.

“What are those things?”

“They’re – oof – used to shape – dammit – materials before they solidify.” He huffed, succeeding in folding it up and shoving it into his bag. “Just one more and then I’m done.” He searched eagerly around, finding the one he was after quickly. “Ahah! This is for the intricate insertion of miniscule parts which are too small for people to work with directly.”

This machine was considerably smaller, and looked like it had been awarded a position of honour with its solitary space on a metal table.

“Sounds like you’re building quite a contraption,” Addi prompted. Stanford pretended not to hear her, and proceeded with unscrewing some of its delicate arm lengths so they folded over, making a neat box.

“You’re into all this science-y stuff then?” she asked, leaning against a belt while he worked.

“Very much so.” He responded emphatically, with a smile. “To tell you the truth, I’d rather spend my time researching than doing this sort of thing. I always meant to, but I guess things just . . . worked out differently. I’ll go back to it one day, and it’s not like I’m unable to do any now.”

“Wow, a regular little genius, aren’t you?” Addi teased gently.

“Yes,” he answered matter-of-factly. Addi snorted.

“What about you? Are you interested in all this ‘science-y stuff’, as you put it?” Stanford asked.

“A little. I dabbled.” She said playfully. “When Jheselbraum offered me a job I accepted.”

CRAP.

Stanford looked up at the name, but didn’t inquire further. Oh thank God. He doesn’t know about her.

“Alright! All done,” he said proudly, and lifted the machine off its place and into his very full bag.

“Did you check for alarms?” Addi said suddenly, snapping back into mission-mode. She shouldn’t have been snapped out in the first place.

“No need to worry, these things aren’t guarded as closely as you might think,” Stanford said airily.

BEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAA!

“Nice,” grumbled Addi as alarms and red lights blared.

“Don’t worry, I can fix this!”

The entrance they had come through burst open again. The (now smoking and sooty) security guards ran in, spotted them, and charged.

“Fix it faster!” Addi said, drawing her gun again.

“Over there! I have an idea!”

Addi followed him without question, and they stopped at a maintenance station beside what looked like a streamlined forklift.

“Hop in!” Ford leapt into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Don’t worry-”

“Stop telling me not to worry!”

The forklift careened off, heading for an exit. Addi drew her gun and aimed at the pursuing security guards. Warning shots made them scatter, but they regrouped near a cleaning cart and piled on, the vehicle’s dusters whirring as they gave chase.

Marks Incorporated building, Beijing (China) ∆

“Well, we can’t argue with that,” said one of the executives, and the others nodded in agreement. One by one they signed the form Fiddleford handed to them, signalling the end of the negotiation. He had done it. Marks Incorporated was back on track.

Now he just had to sit through the rest of the meeting without dancing around in joy. He thought that would be fairly easy once the board went back to discussing tax policies.

Unnoticed, Fiddleford unmuted the volume on his earpiece. He did not like what he heard.

“Go faster!”

“We’re already at maximum speed!”

“Then we need to figure something out, because they’re gaining!”

Addi was in trouble. He tried desperately to think of an excuse which allow him to leave without appearing suspicious, or jeopardising the contract he’d written up. It had to be good, something like –

“MY WIFE’S GONE INTO LABOUR!” Pinefield screamed, and sprinted out the door.

That’d work.

“Er . . . MINE TOO!” Fiddleford yelled, and ran after him.

He ignored the elevator, which would most likely be full of people, and headed straight for the stairs. Banging open the door, he saw Pinefield had had the same idea and was already a floor below. Thankfully, they were only on the fifth floor, so there wasn’t much distance to cover until he reached ground-level, and then it was a simple matter of getting back to the car –

He swore. The taxi. He’d taken a taxi to get here.

He ran out the lobby doors, hoping to see a taxi nearby. No luck. What else could he do? Addi might be fighting for her life right now!

There was a helicopter pad at the rear of the building. He raced for it. It wasn’t long before he realised he was running alongside someone.

Was Pinefield heading for the helicopter too?

“Stan Pines, CIA – maybe,” the man said, stopping suddenly and turning to him. “Short version is we’re both spies and our partners are in trouble. Wanna share the helicopter?”

That . . . actually made a lot of sense. He’d thought the guy didn’t really seem like a corporate representative. “Fiddleford McGucket, classified. Do ya know how to fly one of these?”

“No clue.” Said Stan. “You?”

Fiddleford looked at the machine. He knew how it worked, in theory. He peered through a window at the controls.

“Fiddleford?”

“Get in, agent,”

Once he was strapped into the pilot’s seat he took stock of the gauges and dials in front of him. They seemed simple enough. He’d designed and built far more complicated things while drunk.

“That should be the start . . .” he muttered.

The rotors began to spin.

“Wait, you have flown one of these before, right?”

Fiddleford flicked a few more switches and donned a headset.

“Fiddleford?”

He handed another headset to Stan, who was looking pale, and clutched it tightly.

“Talk to me, McGucket, have you done this before or not?!”

“No,” grinned Fiddleford, staring out the windshield in excitement, “but how hard can it be?”

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind. Ford can die. I did not sign up for this. Let me out, McGucket. Let me out now. No! NONONONO!”

The helicopter lifted off the ground, wind whipping around the platform, Fiddleford’s dream of flight taking root in his mind. He laughed maniacally. Stan yelled.

Marks Incorporated manufacturing facility, Beijing (China) ∆

The forklift and the cleaner were both severely dented, not to mention overturned. The forklift’s arms were moving up and down – or, well, side to side – on their own, scraping against the hallway floor. Adeline’s parent’s security did not mess around when it came to intruders. Ford was not sure whether they were trying to capture or kill them. Hopefully capture.

A gun went off next to one of his ears, deafening it. The other was ringing badly. A shout left him, but he could only feel it. He pushed the shock and pain aside and snatched the gun away, chopping down on the man’s arm and sending an elbow into his face. He turned and shot another guard who was sneaking up behind him in the leg, then turned back to the first, and kicked him out cold just as he bent double from the previous strike.

Adeline had moved further up ahead, and was facing off against her own two adversaries. Ford regained some of his hearing as he ran over. Before he arrived, she managed to incapacitate one, however she was barely a second too slow to stop the other from drawing a stun gun and pressing it to her side.

She gasped sharply, freezing up completely as the electric shock went through her. Fortunately, the guard was too distracted to notice Ford. A swift strike to the head sent her to the floor. Adeline’s knees buckled, and he caught her under her arms, sparing a moment to check on her. She was shuddering, and had broken out in a sweat, and looked like she was going to throw up. The adrenaline in her system might have exacerbated the electricity’s effects.

“That sucked . . .” she breathed.

“Can you walk?”

“Urrgh . . . give it a second,”

The last guard to be dispatched groaned, letting Ford know she was conscious. They needed to leave.

“Your second’s up!” He pulled Adeline’s arm around his shoulders and hurried away, quickly finding another hall. As that set of doors banged closed, he heard footsteps, slow at first, but gaining speed. He hurried faster, Adeline trying her best to find her feet.

Through an office, down a small hallway, hope there’s no security cameras, in here!

They stumbled into another warehouse, this one substantially smaller and darker. The lights were off, but Ford could dimly make out rows and rows of shelves, all bearing boxes.

“Storage room,” grunted Adeline.

They rounded a corner just as the guard followed them inside. Evidently this wasn’t as good a hiding place as he’d thought.

Adeline tugged him towards a tiny, narrow recess, almost completely pitch black. They scurried into it, Ford repressing the urge to ask if Adeline could stop breathing so laboriously.

He half- propped her up against a shelf and half- kept a hold of her, so that they were facing each other. If he looked to his left, he could see the entrance to their nook, and the dim light beyond it.

The footsteps neared. The guard was just around the corner. She was coming up the aisle. All too soon she was one shelf away. What little light Ford and Adeline could see by was blocked out as the guard slowly eclipsed their hideaway, silhouette menacing their eyes, gun drawn, stepping carefully. Adeline stopped breathing altogether. Ford readied himself either to push her to the back of the niche or launch himself at the guard.

They were plunged into absolute darkness as the entrance was completely covered. After a few agonising seconds of listening into the strained silence and trying not to make any noise whatsoever, the dim light began to leak back in. The guard was passing by. She had not seen them. Her footsteps receded into the distance, and she evidently decided to give up, because they heard the door close again a minute later.

There was a huge gasp as Adeline took her first full breath in a while. Ford sighed as well.

“That was close,” he said quietly.

“No kidding.” She replied, and huffed out a laugh. “‘I can fix this!’ You dork.”

She smiled again, inciting him to give one in return, and – yes, they were really close. He would have backed away but there were boxes pressing into him from every direction except forward. Adeline was still smiling. Everything seemed really quiet. Was that normal? It was better than noise, he supposed. Her arm was still slung partially around his shoulders, and she did not seem inclined to remove it. She was so close and she looked so beautiful, even in the half-light, and he felt like smiling forever and God he wanted to kiss her – kill her! Kill her! Because . . . she was an enemy . . . right? Except he didn’t think that label applied anymore.

“You two okay?”

Adeline shrieked, and Ford instinctively shot forwards to heroically shield her from the guard who had come back to finish the job – or that was his intention. During the process he elbowed her in the gut and winded her.

“Jeez, it’s only me,” Stan said in mild offence.

“Addi! Yer alive!” cheered the man with him.

“Uh huh. Unless you give me another heart attack,” coughed Adeline weakly. Ford hurriedly extricated himself from the cranny, trying stop his own heart from pounding its way out of his chest.

“Er . . . Stanford?” asked Adeline worriedly, following him out only to be met with a subtly different-looking Stan.

“Stanley, actually. Ford’s my brother. And you must be Agent Marks.” Stan grinned. “Nice kicking my bro’s ass in Italy. Very original.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Adeline grinned right back, winking at Ford. He was positive he went so red his face was luminous.

“You’re brothers?” said Adeline’s partner in disbelief, also examining them. “And yer both called Stan?”

“Don’t you try to be funny about names, Fidds,” Stan said irritably, but Ford was good at recognising the signs, and knew his brother was not genuinely annoyed.

“Fair point. Fiddleford McGucket.” The other man introduced himself. “Adeline’s told me about you, Stanford.”

“Call me Ford,” Ford requested without quite knowing why. He figured Adeline at least had earned the right.

“Then you can call me Addi,” Adeline told him. There was no mistake there. She was definitely looking at him, specifically asking him to call her that. Did people usually feel warm inside when talking about nicknames? He smiled back at her.

“Well, we should go. Nice finally meeting you when you’re not, y’know, unconscious or on the other side of a room. It’s kind of weird that this is the first time we’ve introduced ourselves, when you think about it. Anyway, see you around, I guess.” Stan waved and turned to go.

“Where are we going?” inquired Ford.

“To get a cab. NOT any helicopters or other aviation vehicles.” For some reason he looked pointedly at Fiddleford, who rolled his eyes.

The goodbye seemed rather abrupt to Ford, but then again, what was he hoping to stay for?

Adeline waved, and he tried to breathe evenly.

∆

Addi dropped her hand, which appeared to have leapt up on its own. She still felt a bit jittery, and she didn’t think it was from the electroshock.

“I doubt we’ll be seeing ‘em again,” said Fiddleford as they walked to their own exit point.

“Well I doubt that.” said Addi mischievously. “We still don’t know who they work for, and I want to find out.” She showed him the watch on her wrist. A blue dot pulsed on a map of the building they were in, slowly moving away.

Fiddleford looked up. “You put a tracker on him,”

“Oh yes. I’m looking forward to seeing those two again,”

Maybe Stanford a little bit more.

Okay, a lot more.

Beijing Ya Mei International Hotel, Beijing (China) ∆

Ford came back from the bathroom to see Stan still sitting in front of the television, watching a show neither of them understood, without the subtitles on. At this point they were just killing time until someone came by pick up Ford’s machines.

On the table, his phone rang. Before he could stop him, Stan answered it.

“Ford’s phone,”

Ford raced around the table to gesture frantically at his brother to give it to him. Stan went through a whole range of expressions in under a minute, starting with vague disinterest. Next was surprised comprehension.

“Ford’s boss? Yeah, I mean, he’s been so secretive about you.”

The sudden suspicion that overtook Stan’s face was jarring. “Er, thanks. Ford’s right here if you want to talk to him.” He handed the phone over.

“Sixer!” Greeted Bill.

“Sorry about that, I was out of the room for a moment,” explained Ford.

“No harm done. At least, none that can’t be rectified. Anyway, as you’ve probably guessed, the last part of your mission is at hand! Then we can finally get to work on making that gun. You mentioned how we needed a filament material for the bulb?”

“Yes. You’ve found something suitable?”

“Indeed I have. It was not easy, lemme tell you, but I’ve gotten in contact with someone ready to make a deal,”

“That’s great! I can’t believe we’re almost there, this design seems to have been in the making for an eternity!”

“You read my mind, buddy,”

“So where do I have to go? Who do I need to meet?”

“You ever heard of the Russian Mafia?”

∆

Stan thought that Ford’s boss seemed strange, to say the least. The guy had barely said two sentences to him, and already he was getting strong Stay Away vibes. The fact that Ford trusted him did not bode well, either. Stan knew a conman’s wheedle when he heard it.

Ford quietly hung up the phone. His face was twisted into extreme concern, as if he had an exam the next day that he wasn’t confident about. In short, Stan hadn’t seen that look before.

“Hey, don’t worry.” Stan nudged him, trying to sound casual. “We’ll face it together, huh?”

Ford sighed. “I’m not sure how long you’re going to keep saying that for,”

Stan didn’t really like to show people he had, y’know, feelings that often, but his next words slipped out on autopilot.

“However long ya need,”

Jeez, he was getting soft.

#gravity falls #spy au #double o sixer au #stanford pines #stanley pines #adeline marks #fiddleford mcgucket #carla mccorkle #jheselbraum #bill cipher #starla #addiford #the cipher conspiracy #fanfiction #my writing

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leanstooneside · 3 years

Text

A relationship or illness ends suddenly (KINGFISH)

I tell you that here in this place it availes not in the least either Calcination Sublimation or Reverberation whereby afterwards a perfect extraction can or might be done or effected with profit to transmute the meaner into a better Metallick virtue; for it is impossible for you

Tincture and spirit of Silver manifests its Colour of a Watchet or Skycolour otherwise it is a waterish Spirit

its Seed; but this Flax cannot be used and prepared for any work profitably except it be first putrefied and rotted in water whereby the Body is opened

Vulgar Physician cannot understand this Description; for this Art and knowledge proceeds not from the bare Talking but from Experience; the common Physician hath the foundation and egress in speaking but our Preparation hath its Rise from speaking and then its foundation first of all out of a certain trial which manifests it by Experience and this is firmed

Heaven above all Stars but he possesses the lowest and vilest degree in the underparts of the Earth even as the supreme Light of Saturn is mounted

Metals as likewise no one Spirit of all the Metals can be set backwards because of necessity they accord together from the lowest to the highest degree and must agree together as a Metal is perfect in the great Earth

Skycoloured Sulphur extracted out of Silver rectified with Spirit of Wine dissolve it according to its Quantity in the White Spirit of Vitriol and in the sweetsented Spirit of Mercury coagulate them together by the fixation of the Fire you have the White Tincture in your Hands with all its Medicines; but if you can get all their primum Mobile's it is then needless because you

I have done my part which I hope to justifie before God and the World; for what my Eyes have seen my Hands felt and apprehended by an undeceived Judgment that shall no man take from me in this Life; only Death which is the determiner

wherein more heat is to be found whence

it hath least of Sulphur and therefore according to its small quantity its cold body cannot be made warm; it hath little Salt but fluxible otherwise Iron would be more fluxible and malleable than Lead if the Salt alone could cause a malleableness and fluxibleness because Iron contains more Salt than any other Metal: Seeing then there is a difference

Spirit of Tin is a Preserver

its degree as that which is found in Gold

its innermost and profoundest part till it be well prepared and cannot any more be brought into its first Essence untill the last Judgment; and it is true for so soon as it

it with his hands and uses it in vile matters and of small value; he values the vile at a high rate and that which is high he

Body be brought to an Oil or yield its pleasant Oil if it be brought to the last being of its degree for Glass is in all things

it likewise that the Soul of Metals which is formed and conceived

Sun and by this coagulation it is again brought into a Formal

called this an induction into the Silver but that is false; for this Gold

casting of water upon it cut in pieces by Taylors and other people so converted to future services in houshold affairs and when this Linnen is quite worn out and torn

It is generated of such a composition

meer Salt and is approved to be such which in this particular may be compared to Iron

truth I acknowledge and confess it before the Supreme Trinity speaking it to the hazzard of that most Noble Ecclesiastical Jewel that all what I have wrote and yet shall write in this point is all true and shall be found to be no otherwise in truth

Stibium or Antimony as the Philosophers say is composed

Rocks by manual Operations but the other stands upon moving Reeds & Sand; wherefore in reason that which is strong and immoveable made by Natures

Froth that floates upon the Water in comparison of that Mercury which is found in Sol

Saturn to generate his Metal Lead is placed

it hath most of Mercury in it but it is inconstant

Gold is so digested ripened and made into such a fixt

You will say that this my speech is too dark for you

Medicines are not required that they should be administred in strange cases with a just Call but we should rather abide by those where the Body and its Disease have an equal temper with the superiour Stars and their assistance in vertue power and operation and so accord together in their juncture that there is not found the least contrariety

Soul of Lead consists in a sweet quality as also doth the Soul of Tin and sweeter yet that nothing almost may be compared to it being first of all purified to the highest by separation that the pure be well separated from the impure that a perfect accomplishment may succeed in the Operation: Otherwise the Spirit of Lead is by nature

Golden Magnet sticks and lies buried the resolution and opening of all Metals and Minerals their domination as also the first Matter of their generation their power over health; and again the coagulation and fixation of Metals together with the operation of expelling all Diseases: Take notice of this Key for it is Celestial

mystery of Gold which I will make good to you by an Example and Parable to certifie you whereby the possibility of Nature and its Mystery is to be found after this manner

malady; its Spirit is naturally

Solution take it out immediately that the Aqua Regis may do it no prejudice; for it will quickly dissolve the Tincture of the Antimony; for our Water in its nature is like to the Ostrich

Sulphur of Venus in the Emerald the Soul of Saturn in the Granate; in Tin the tincture which is found in the Topaz

Allom is esteemed

you may think this to be false yet you must take notice that seeing the Salt of Jupiter only by its Sulphur is made more corporal yet likewise it

Water and Fire out of which the Earth is generated by the help

manner Tin is nourished

You shall likewise know that you shall not obtain that perfect noble Oil in the least if it be extracted with corrected Vinegar poured upon the Antimony nor yet by Reverberation; and although its various colours may appear yet is it

Name of God and of the Eternal Trinity fine and very pure Mineral Antimony which is fair white massie

Jupiters Spirit is found not to be wanting in the least in the generation

Peace a Lord of Goodness a Ruler and Possessor of the middle Region; as concerning its State Essence Function Virtue Form and Substance; for it holds the mean; no special Disease can happen that Jupiter should cause any remarkable damage if its Medicine be used a little at once not too much in quantity; it is likewise thought needless where its

Example hereof from Silver which is dissolved

I must yet produce one comparison according to the Philosophical custom of the great Light of Heaven and of that little terrestrial fire here daily kindled and made to burn before our Eyes; because that great Light hath a magnetick simulation and an attractive living power with the small fire here on earth but yet it is unformal and incomprehensible only it

Goose nor to learn what is concealed

Luna in the veins of the Earth is not furnished with such a hot substance

Moon; for the Moon is much lesser

manner is to be observed and understood of the Metals

Planets so is its

I advise that it be not much used by Men and Women because it over cools Nature so that the Seed of both cannot perform their Natural Function; nor doth it much good to the Spleen and Bladder but in other cases it attracts flegmatick Humours unto it which raise up much Melancholy in Men; for Saturn is a Ruler

Light of the Sun is of a fiery

it by the Spirits but every kind of Silver hath one Ounce of Gold more or less in the Mark or 8 Ounces for Gold is so united with the Nature

Sydereal and Elementary out of which the terrestrial is generated it

Discourse be gross and not subtil yet you may learn thereby to know what is subtile

Elementary Light and Fire of the Sun; whereby the Stars move the Powers when its heat is perceived

You must not therefore quite reject Saturn nor in all points scornfully neglect him because its Natures and Virtues are known yet but unto few; for the Stone of the wise hath the first beginning of its Celestial highshining Colour only out of this Metal and from the influence of this Planet the Key of Constancy is delivered unto him

transmutation of any Metal can follow out of Saturn by reason of its great coldness only and except to coagulate common Mercury; for the cold Sulphur of Lead can qualifie and take away the hot running Spirit of the Quicksilver if the process be rightly ordered wherefore it is not amiss to observe that Mercury

nothing or of no value and unprofitable out of ignorance; even as the Disciples of the Lord going to Emaus their eyes were opened at the breaking of Bread that they knew wonder above wonder what the rich Creator hath placed in the vile creature the name is Hermes

Hearts of all men and yet all is one and one only thing

unto Honey in Taste its Mercury being made volatile gains a venomous quality; for it purges violently and penetrates through by force therefore it is not alwayes to be advised that its

It is evident that the Celestial

spiritually and heavenly Soul and Spirit and by the nourishment of the Earth in the Body of the Mother is formally brought up to perfection

God the Creator keep thee and grant unto all earthly Creatures who love and honour him the true understanding of all Gifts that thy Will may be done in Heaven and on Earth: This is enough revealed at present concerning

its degree and therefore the Mercury of Saturn by reason of its great coldness hath not so quick a running Life as that which is made of Gold

his heat can digest Iron and consume it to nothing; for the Water will consume it and turn it to a Mud that it shall remain only as a yellow Earth and then is it

aloft in the highest supremacy of all the Celestial planets so hath its Children of the lower Region succeeded it in Kind; and Nature hath permitted that Vulcan should conduct them to their like if Saturn be content; for the upper light gives occasion thereunto having generated an unfixt Body of Saturn penetrated with open pores that the Air can pass through this Saturnine Body that the Air can keep it aloft but the fire can quickly assault it because the body is not compact by reason of its

you lay Paper upon a Metal or Glass kindle and burn it the vegetable Mercury comes forth and flies away into the Air the Salt remaines in the ashes and the combustible Sulphur which is not so quickly consumed in the burning

Alexius of Piedmont in his seventh Book of Secrets calls it Talck even as John Jacob Wecker renders it in his Books of Secrets; but Talck is far different from Antimony

Saturn hath an especial ponderosity above other Metals yet observe when they are poured forth together after their union in the Flux the other Metals alwaies settle at the bottom even as it likewise comes to pass in the pouring of Antimony through with other Metals whereby it is evident that the other Metals

Oil of Antimony; it is a noble well sented virtuous and powerful Oil

He that is of such a resolution

inward parts of the Earth as in the Womb for the Earth is opened

I tell thee that Saturn is generated of little Sulphur

Body is white as a Diamond

eyes of all men but because the vertues and powers are very deeply buried and unknown to the most part therefore this matter is likewise esteemed

Labours prevent me therein of making a longer Narration I therefore put a Conclusion to this Treatise at present referring the other concerning the concealed Secrets of Minerals until I have a purpose to write further in a particular Treatise of Antimony Vitriol Brimstone Magnet and which in especial are endowed before others and depend upon those out of which Gold and Silver have their beginning middle and end together with the true transmutation particularly; which virtues and power they have received out of one thing wherein all these lie to be generated invisibly concealed together with all Metals; which matter is publick

Saphire its Rayment is gone and its

Melancholy wherefore its Spirit is used for one Melancholy

supremest Wisdom of this world a wisdom above all wisdom yea a wisdom above all Natural Reason and Understanding; for by this wisdom is comprehended

manifests and is proved that the great Light

Jupiter possesses almost the mean or middle place between Metals it being not too hot nor too cold not too warm nor too moist it hath no excess of Mercury nor of Salt and it hath the least of Sulphur in it; it is found to be white in Colour

you Physicians Whither is your

Spirit of Salt therewith extract the Sulphur of Gold separate the Oil of Salt from it rectifie the Sulphur of Gold with Spirit of Wine that it be pleasant without Corrosive; then take the true Oil of Vitriol made of the Vitriol of Verdigreece therein dissolve Mars thereof make a Vitriol again and again dissolve it into an Oil or Spirit which rectifie in like manner as before with Spirit of Wine conjoin them and abstract the Spirit of Wine from it resolve the Matter which remaines dry in Spirit of Mercury according to a just weight circulate and coagulate it when it is fix'd and permanent without Ascention

Saturn above other Salts; Saturn is also coagulated and made corporal; Ice

fire doth not burn so lively in dusky dark rainy weather nor manifests it self with joy in its operation as it doth when there is a fair pure serene unfalsified

its Body is not compact by reason of the abounding

Earth but the Seed which goes out of the Male into the Female is operated in both by the Sydereal

0 notes

isaiahrippinus · 4 years

Text

The Best Virtual Tours of Breweries, Distilleries, and Wineries

Close to 300 million Americans — roughly 90 percent of the country’s population — are currently being urged to stay at home, in as many as 38 states, 48 counties, 14 cities, the District of Columbia, and Puerto Rico, according to the latest data from The New York Times.

The unprecedented measures have left many of us seeking new and novel forms of entertainment. Some now enjoy virtual happy hours with friends, while others have elevated those experiences by introducing virtual drinking games to the fray. Pretty much all of us are drinking more, with many taking advantage of alcohol delivery services for the first time.

And yet, no amount of virtual picklebacks or beer pong can douse the flames of wanderlust. But while physical travel is an impossibility right now, many are managing to escape their four walls via virtual tourism.

Google Trends data shows just how hot “virtual tours” are right now. For the past five years, interest in the search term showed a lifeless flatline on the search engine before a sudden recent spike, peaking in the week beginning March 22 — the very same week stay-at-home orders spread across most of the nation.

For those who usually plan their travel and vacations around their favorite alcoholic beverages, a number of breweries, distilleries, and wineries are thankfully well-equipped to welcome swaths of virtual-passport-carrying armchair tourists. Online experiences range from full-blown virtual renderings of iconic distilleries to intimate guided tours of local breweries. Best of all: Each of the tours can be enjoyed with a glass in hand.

Distilleries

Of all of the booze-spiked virtual excursions, none is more expansive, surreal, or singular than the Buffalo Trace Virtual Tour.

“Within the last 12 months, we’ve had over 300,000 visitors to Buffalo Trace, but most people around the world are never going to make it to Kentucky,” says Kris Comstock, senior bourbon marketing director at Buffalo Trace Distillery. “So [we asked ourselves], ‘How do we take that experience and somehow recreate it for our fans in Europe and all around the world?’”

More than one year in the making, and created from over 10,000 photos of the distillery, Buffalo Trace launched its virtual tour in January 2019. The free-to-download app, which runs on desktop computers, iPhone, and iPad, lets users explore a computer-generated recreation of its historic Frankfort, Ky., facility. The overall experience is part whiskey tourism, part computer game.

Credit: Buffalo Trace Distillery

“Visitors” can investigate more than a dozen of the distillery’s buildings and production facilities, and roam up to 400 acres of distillery landscape. Buffalo Trace’s legendary guide, Freddie Johnson, is also on hand to lead four virtual tours and teach every aspect of production and a touch of history.

“The reason we created it virtually is so we can update it over time,” Comstock says. “As we expand the distillery, we can update the program.” The game-like platform also allows Buffalo Trace to add unique experiences within the app.

Users become virtual collectors, with bottles of all the distillery’s brands hidden throughout the grounds for visitors to gather while exploring. There’s also a quiz to test their bourbon knowledge, and the opportunity to travel back in time and explore the distillery at different points throughout history.

“The tour is not meant to be just educational, it’s meant to be fun,” Comstock says. And during these times of social distancing and stay-at-home orders, it’s proving to be popular. “In March we had more downloads than any other month since it launched,” he says.

Scottish whisky distilleries also offering virtual exploration packages include The Glenturret Distillery, Laphroaig, Glenfiddich, The Balvenie, and Talisker.

The Glenturret’s experience is by far the most interactive of the bunch. Its tour lets users snoop around every inch of its distillery, with the 3D space stitched together from high-resolution 360-degree photos. There are educational videos embedded in different parts of the platform, making the “tour” every bit as informative as it is intriguing.

Credit: The Glenturret Distillery

The Balvenie, Glenfiddich, and Laphroaig, meanwhile, let armchair voyagers discover their facilities via 360-degree YouTube videos. It’s a popular tool that’s also been utilized by many other distilleries, wineries, and breweries, and the concept is simple: A host from the property explains various aspects of their brand’s history and production processes, while viewers can rotate the camera angle to view everything that’s happening around them.

For those who don’t like whisk(e)y, London-based gin distillery Sipsmith offers a similar YouTube experience, hosted by founder Sam Galsworthy and Master Distiller Jared Brown. The three-minute video also features special guest appearances from Sipsmith’s copper stills: Prudence, Patience, Constance, and Cygnet.

Patrón Tequila gives guests a look inside its scenic hacienda and production facilities via a 360-degree YouTube video, which can also be viewed on virtual reality platforms, including Google Cardboard.

This tour is as much a behind-the-scenes look at one of Mexico’s most iconic tequila producers as it is an insight into the process of making tequila itself. The video melds cutting-edge 360 filming technology and computer-generated images (CGI), and is given through the perspective of a bee, the symbol of the Patrón brand.

For those seeking spirits with a side of vineyards and an iconic chateau, Cognac producer Martell should be the first port of call. Available to explore on desktop computers and on Google Cardboard, Martell’s interactive photo/video tour gives an all-access pass to its grounds, cellars, and chateau.

There are embedded educational videos and secret keys and recipes to collect. For virtual company, visitors can chat with Martell’s virtual bartender as he fixes a range of different cocktails, or enjoy the peaceful presence of a few friendly deer in the garden. Don’t have time to explore everything? Users can create a profile, save their progress, and revisit at a later date.

Wineries

For enotourism, virtual travelers have a host of wineries to explore, many of which offer a similar, though not quite as extensive, experience to Martell.

Multiple well-known brands, including Louis M. Martini, Kendall-Jackson, Chateau Montelena, and Matanzas Creek, host platforms built from 360-degree photographs of their vineyards, cellars, and production facilities. While not quite as interactive as Martell’s experience, some have videos built into them, and many offer a direct link to the winery’s online store from within virtual tasting rooms.

Credit: Louis M. Martini

“During times like these with the current Covid restrictions, we love being able to provide our customers with the opportunity to transport here virtually and inspire wanderlust for when this is all behind us,” a representative for Kendall-Jackson told VinePair.

Oregon-based Visiting Media is one technology firm creating such experiences. To date, it’s built over 100 platforms for a range of winery, distillery, and brewery clients.

Senior account executive Mason Feudner says the experiences are typically used by wineries to showcase their suitability as event venues. But with so many of us stuck at home, one of the platform’s best assets right now is helping virtual tourists “feel like they’re escaping their living rooms,” he says.

Credit: Archery Summit

Other wineries offer 360-degree YouTube videos similar to those provided by distilleries. Archery Summit Vineyard, in Oregon’s Willamette Valley, gives viewers a two-minute look behind the scenes at its Dundee property, including a sneak peek inside its wine cave and “A-List Lounge.” In Prosser, Wash., 14 Hands offers a similar two-minute experience, complete with stunning drone shots taken from above its vineyards.

And if it’s rolling vineyards you seek, no tour compares to the 360-degree Virtual Reality Champagne Experience. Created and hosted by a local regional board, the seven-minute video spans vineyards, wineries, caves, and the city of Reims. With a French-speaking tour guide, for those who don’t speak the local lingo, it’s surprisingly close to a real-life vacation.

Quintessa Winery, in St. Helena, Calif., is also well-versed in 360-degree vineyard drone shots. But amidst stay-at-home orders, the Napa Valley winery is also launching a new Instagram Live series that will transport followers to its property. Hosted by general manager Rodrigo Soto and winemaker Rebekah Wineburg, the series airs every Wednesday at 4 p.m. PT and features interactive vineyard and winery experiences as well as updates on life in the vineyard.

Breweries

Lagging behind, somewhat, on the virtual tourism front, are breweries. But some offer worthwhile YouTube experiences similar to those previously mentioned.

Budweiser Budvar’s video drops viewers into the southern Czech Republic, and is one of the more in-depth tours at around five-and-a-half minutes long. In the video, the tour guide delves deep into the production process, and highlights the importance of local water and hops in its brews.

3 Daughters Brewing also does a great job of simultaneously giving a tour and explaining how to make beer, all in the time it takes to brew a cup of tea. Brooklyn Brewery, Goose Island, and Allagash Brewery also provide short but sweet domestic experiences.

“We’re in Maine — it’s not necessarily a super-central place to get to,” says Brett Wallis, marketing specialist at Allagash. Whether in the midst of a global pandemic or otherwise, the YouTube video tour offers drinkers the chance to “interact with Allagash,” past just drinking its beer, he says.

Credit: 3 Daughters Brewing

Another beer professional looking to help drinkers and brewers interact while social distancing is Don Littlefield, general manager of Brew Bus Tours.

Under normal circumstances, Brew Bus offers winery, distillery, and brewery tours across Maine, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island. “As a tour operator, we can’t pivot to curbside pickup, home delivery, or takeout,” Littlefield says. Instead, his company has transformed into hosting virtual tours on Instagram Live via the Maine Brew Bus account (the company is split into three operations).

Every day at 3, 4, and 5 p.m. ET, Littlefield connects with a different Maine brewer for 30 minutes, giving them a platform to talk about their company and highlight how they’re adapting to life during Covid-19. They also talk about what they’re currently brewing and give a glance inside their brewing facilities. Littlefield was inspired to start offering the tours after seeing a Canada tour company, Brew Donkey, offer a similar experience.

“We’ve turned into a media production house, which is kind of ridiculous,” he says. While hosting the “tours,” Littlefield records the conversations and then posts them online as YouTube videos. Another member of his team then takes the audio and creates podcasts, complete with title credits and intros and outros.

While the tours themselves are free, in every broadcast Littlefield mentions a virtual tip bucket where guests can leave a donation. For deep-pocketed, generous individuals who are able to give $100, Maine Brew Bus will match the tip with an equal-value gift card for use when social distancing restrictions are loosened.

“It’s not financially lucrative, but my hope is that as these [episodes] re-air and people find them on YouTube, we’ll continue to have some sustainability from that,” Littlefield says. “All things considered, we’re trying to stay positive without really knowing when we can get back to what we do best.”

The article The Best Virtual Tours of Breweries, Distilleries, and Wineries appeared first on VinePair.

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wineanddinosaur · 4 years

Text

The Best Virtual Tours of Breweries, Distilleries, and Wineries

Distilleries

Of all of the booze-spiked virtual excursions, none is more expansive, surreal, or singular than the Buffalo Trace Virtual Tour.

Credit: Buffalo Trace Distillery

Scottish whisky distilleries also offering virtual exploration packages include The Glenturret Distillery, Laphroaig, Glenfiddich, The Balvenie, and Talisker.

Credit: The Glenturret Distillery

Wineries

For enotourism, virtual travelers have a host of wineries to explore, many of which offer a similar, though not quite as extensive, experience to Martell.

Credit: Louis M. Martini

Oregon-based Visiting Media is one technology firm creating such experiences. To date, it’s built over 100 platforms for a range of winery, distillery, and brewery clients.

Credit: Archery Summit

Breweries

Lagging behind, somewhat, on the virtual tourism front, are breweries. But some offer worthwhile YouTube experiences similar to those previously mentioned.

Credit: 3 Daughters Brewing

Another beer professional looking to help drinkers and brewers interact while social distancing is Don Littlefield, general manager of Brew Bus Tours.

The article The Best Virtual Tours of Breweries, Distilleries, and Wineries appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/best-virtual-tours-brewery-distillery-winery/

0 notes

johnboothus · 4 years

Text

The Best Virtual Tours of Breweries Distilleries and Wineries

Distilleries

Of all of the booze-spiked virtual excursions, none is more expansive, surreal, or singular than the Buffalo Trace Virtual Tour.

Credit: Buffalo Trace Distillery

Scottish whisky distilleries also offering virtual exploration packages include The Glenturret Distillery, Laphroaig, Glenfiddich, The Balvenie, and Talisker.

Credit: The Glenturret Distillery

Wineries

For enotourism, virtual travelers have a host of wineries to explore, many of which offer a similar, though not quite as extensive, experience to Martell.

Credit: Louis M. Martini

Oregon-based Visiting Media is one technology firm creating such experiences. To date, it’s built over 100 platforms for a range of winery, distillery, and brewery clients.

Credit: Archery Summit

Breweries

Lagging behind, somewhat, on the virtual tourism front, are breweries. But some offer worthwhile YouTube experiences similar to those previously mentioned.

Credit: 3 Daughters Brewing

Another beer professional looking to help drinkers and brewers interact while social distancing is Don Littlefield, general manager of Brew Bus Tours.

The article The Best Virtual Tours of Breweries, Distilleries, and Wineries appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/best-virtual-tours-brewery-distillery-winery/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/the-best-virtual-tours-of-breweries-distilleries-and-wineries

0 notes