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#just like...yes actually i think you should apologize for breaking a stick worth hundreds of dollars on tv. ya know
rustyskateblade · 3 years
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uhh probably an unpopular opinion rn but “he certainly didn’t have to apologize” about carter hart saying sorry for breaking his stick on a live broadcast is...not a good take. i love carter, i don’t blame him for being extremely frustrated or even infuriated, he has every right to be, but we gotta stop treating men breaking shit when they get mad like it’s endearing. i think it was so cool of him to sincerely apologize for that and THAT is the attitude we should be praising tbh
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buckybeardreams · 3 years
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Unwanted
Chapters: 9/11
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener
Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting
Series: Part 1 of Second Chances
Summary:
Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 
That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11
Can also be read here
Words: 1,612
"You're not unhappy that we bonded, right?"
Tony rolled his eyes.
"If I was I wouldn't be curled up in bed right now after letting you fuck my brains out."
Steve smirked.
"I think you were the one doing the fucking. I just laid there while you rode me."
"Yeah, but next time I'm gonna make you do all the work and I'm just gonna lay there and be the pillow princess. Let my Alpha take care of me," Tony said, his fingers trailing down Steve's chest and a sultry pout on his lips. "You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, Alpha?"
"You know I'd do anything to please you, baby."
"I know, because you're such a good boy," Tony murmured, kissing him. "Mm, as much as I'd love to stick around and let you fuck me on every surface in your apartment, I really have to get going or I'm gonna be late."
"I'll drive you," Steve offered.
"You're sweet, but no, I'm good. If I take you with me I'm just gonna end up fucking you in the break room and then the manager is gonna be an asshole about it."
Steve growled.
"I hate that guy more every time you talk about him."
Tony hummed, kissing him again.
"Yeah, well, I think most bosses disapprove of fucking in the employee's room. Even the not asshole ones.
"No, I don't mean that. We definitely can't do that, no matter how much I like the idea of you bossing me around at your work. I just think this Obie guy sounds like the worst and every time I've run into him just confirms that."
Tony didn't even try to disagree with that assessment.
"Like last week when he gave you shit for having to leave early because of your heat. There are laws in place to protect Omegas from being forced to work while in heat, but you practically had to beg him for the days off and then apologize for not being able to work and he still gave you shit about it. Then he had the audacity to act like he had done you some great favor and made you work extra shifts to make up for it. He didn't even pay you overtime, even though he made you work like sixty hours."
"Hey, hey, calm down. You're getting yourself all worked up about it and I don't want that. I appreciate your concern, I really do, and I love that you're so protective. Which is honestly something I never thought I'd say, but you need to take a deep breath. I've got it all under control."
Steve tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down like his Omega told him to, but it didn't do much to alleviate his anger.
"I know, I'm sorry. I just wish you didn't have to deal with him."
"Well, I won't have to for much longer."
Steve frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Tony shifted on his lap, looking down at his lap nervously.
"Well, I was actually gonna tell you about this, but we've just been so caught up in our own little bubble and I didn't want to burst it by bringing up legal stuff. Besides, I almost forgot about it with all the newly mated hormones rushing through me," Tony rambled.
"Tony, love, just tell me."
"We tried to get Obie fired, but the owner, Alexander Pierce, was backing him, so we're taking him to court. They've been doing a whole bunch of shady stuff that's totally illegal, from paying people off to pass inspections and dealing drugs out back in the alley, to denying us health insurance, making us work overtime but not paying us overtime, and usually they make the Omegas work during heat. I think Obie only gave in this time, because he thought you might beat his ass if he called me in for work."
There was an amused smile on Tony's face, but he was looking at Steve, worried about his reaction. Steve was furious, but not at Tony. He knew that Obie was an asshole, but he had no idea just how bad it really was.
"Baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have let you work for a guy like that. I'm your Alpha. I should have protected you, provided for you so you didn't have to work-"
"Hey, no, stop," Tony told him. "I love you so much, Alpha, but I don't want that. This was my battle to fight and I wasn't about to let you take that away from me. I've been dealing with this bullshit for years and now I'm finally changing things. You have to let me do this."
Steve felt awed by his little Omega. So much strength wrapped up in such a small little package it was unbelievable, and to think he was all Steve's. Steve kissed him, hard and lingering.
"I would never take that away from you, Tony. I wouldn't dream of doing something like that, pretty Omega."
A shy smile crept onto Tony's face and his cheeks turned pink.
"Thank you, Alpha. That means a lot, and I mean, there's no guarantee that the next person who buys the place will be any better than Pierce, or that they will hire us all on again. There's really no guarantee anybody will buy the place anytime soon. Realistically, it'll probably be bulldozed and turned into a parking lot for the diner next door or something like that. We all know that we're probably gonna lose our jobs, but it's worth it to do the right thing and put Pierce behind bars."
Steve nodded, licking his lips and considering how to say what he wanted to say in a way that wouldn't offend Tony.
"You know that I think you're so strong and I'm so proud of you for doing this, right?"
Tony bit his lip, nodding uncertainly.
He wasn't sure where Steve was going with this.
"I think it's amazing that you're gonna do this and that you want to do this and I'll support you in this in any way that I can," Steve told him earnestly. "I know that this is your fight, Tony, and I would never take that away from you, but if you'll let me, I'd love to fight alongside you."
Tony broke out in a grin, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck.
"Yes! Oh my God, yes!" Tony squealed. "Fuck, you scared me there. I thought you were gonna say something awful, but I should have known you'd just say something charming and perfect."
Steve blushed, but he was grinning too.
"Right, well, you see, the thing is Tony that I have a lot of money-"
Tony pulled back, raising a brow at him.
" You have a lot of money. You , the eighteen year old artist and former virgin until I seduced your ass Alpha, has a lot of money?" Tony asked him, clearly amused and not believing him one bit. "Tell me, pretty boy, what do you consider a lot of money? The twenty dollar allowance your mommy gives every Saturday?"
Steve glared at him, but there wasn't any heat in it. If anything he was just really embarrassed and really turned on.
"Sam helped me out a lot when I was a kid. He helped me turn my life around and he helped get my art into some galleries. He's got this friend, an ex of his, Pepper Potts. She's like a brilliant business woman and she runs her own company, but she also has a few major art galleries where she displays art from some of the most prominent artists in the states. I'm talking big shots, well known artists that make hundreds of thousands of dollars selling one painting."
Tony was just staring at him, like he was having a hard time figuring out if this was just some elaborate joke or not.
"Steve... what are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that she saw some of my work, loved it, and put it up in her galleries. I've only sold a handful, but I've made a lot of money. Your bar is not that great, no offense, and I don't really spend much of my money other than for, like, rent and groceries, so there's a lot of it just sitting around. We could probably just buy the bar. That is if you want to be an owner of a bar."
Steve swallowed hard and fidgeted nervously with the bottom of Tony's shirt when he didn't respond. Tony was just shocked and pretty sure he was dreaming.
"I'm sorry, what? You're joking, right?" Tony said in disbelief. "Are you telling me that you have hundreds of thousands of dollars just lying around?"
Steve squirmed under Tony.
"I mean, not literally. It's all in the bank. Most of it's in my savings account since it earns more interest that way-"
"Shut up, I don't care about that," Tony said, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Are you for real? You have that kind of money and you'd be willing to let me buy a bar with it?"
Steve bit his lip.
"Yeah, I mean, Tony, I'd do anything for you. So if you want a bar then I'll buy you a bar. It's no big deal."
"No big deal? It's a huge deal!"
Steve wasn't sure if he was upset or excited, but then Tony was wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.
"Fuck, I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tony groaned against his lips.
Steve nodded, whimpering into his mouth when Tony kissed him again.
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strawbewwysamurai · 4 years
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Soba is a Dish Best Served Cold [Sanji | Soba-Mask fic | Chapter 1]
Rating: Gen  Warnings: Canon typical violence  Characters: Sanji, The Straw Hat Pirates
The Straw Hats stop on an island to relax and refresh after their adventures in Wano, but after hearing about some dark happenings nearby, Sanji decides he'd rather skip resting, and don a certain caped costume once again, looking to help those who need him instead.
-----
Sanji took one careful step over towards the edge of the roof he was currently standing on, crouching down slowly to perch there, the very tips of his boots sticking out and over the side as he peered intently down over the cityscape below him. It was both noisy, and quiet. The sounds of the city still roared this late into the night, from people shouting gleefully or drunkenly at each other in the streets, to dogs barking as people passed the alleyways they hid in. Yet the night somehow made it feel so much more quiet than any shouts in the day, and Sanji couldn’t tell if it was just the still of the darkness, or if it actually was quieter, no matter how intently he listened.
He was looking, well- listening, for something, anything really. A suspicious figure making their way down the dark alleyways and backroads of the city as they spoke hushedly on a transponder snail, a commotion caused by a robbery or an attack of some kind, or even just a scream for help that echoed through the barren streets that night. Anything of the kind would be enough to move him from his perch and into action, looking to help whoever should need it.
The Straw Hats had stopped here on this booming and bustling island earlier that day, looking for some sort of refresher after everything they had been through in Wano Country just mere weeks prior. Goodness knew they needed it, after dealing with what they had there, and no one had had any qualms about taking a slight detour on their way to the next island.
Leaving Wano had been bittersweet, of course. It always was. Saying goodbye to those they had sailed with, who they had fought with, and had befriended through their journey was painful, as usual whenever they made new nakama on their many misadventures, but it was also tinged in the sweetness of accomplishment and how they had achieved their goals on their journey, and that they had befriended those along the way in the first place. It was all another step to making their captain the Pirate King, and every one of them were grateful to be a part of it.
Yes, they all loved the excitement and chaos of a good adventure on their journeys, but a good few days of relaxation and avoiding mishaps was always a good thing to have in between.
Well, it would be, if Sanji were to actually relax...
Yesterday, Nami had found this city-filled island on the maps along route to their next destination, and had adamantly decided they all needed a break after Wano at such a place that promised rest and relaxation, and boasted it’s seemingly endless restaurants, spas, and shopping. It was blindingly obvious that Nami’s intentions weren’t just to get everyone rested up for the next adventure, but rather to bargain and haggle her way into bankrupting half of the shops here. But none of them would dare to argue with her or call her out on it.
Besides, they all needed to stretch their legs up and away from each other for a bit, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. And everyone had done just that as soon as they had docked earlier in the afternoon, with Nami heading for the spas and shops, Zoro looking for a tavern with Luffy, and Sanji himself separating from any of the little groups to head to the food market by himself.
He was in search of things they needed to stock up on before they set sail again next, or refillings of little treats that everyone enjoyed having on the ship. It was his job as the chef to ensure everyone could snack happily, and he was also looking forward to possibly finding local ingredients that couldn’t be found anywhere else. He loved figuring out new recipes to go with them whenever he found something new, and the new flavors were always so exciting.
He hadn’t been in the markets long though, before he caught onto a few whispers.
It started out with just a few whispers, and concerned looks in his direction. The faces of people trying to figure out who he was, who the brand new face was. Normally, Sanji was used to it, given how many little island towns they had stopped at over the years together, but here it just felt- out of place. It was a big city, not a small town. Why did it feel like everyone was trying to figure out if they had seen him before or not?
Admittedly, it wasn’t just him. He noticed the distrusting glances traded every now and then between other market goers, and it did nothing but worry him just slightly. He could sense something was going on in this city, and he wasn’t sure it would be anything good from what he was finding.
It was only a bit later on in his shopping did he hear any sort of firm information as to why everyone was looking so distrusting at one another.
“Here you go sir! That’ll be five hundred berries.”
“Thank you, mademoiselle. Please, keep the change~”
“Aww, why aren’t you sweet!” She blushed and waved a hand at him as he laughed and took the bag of fruits from the stall girl. She was adorable, and as per usual, Sanji was falling fast. Peppy and sweet, she had thrown in an extra apple for free if he’d promise her he’d try an apple tart recipe she had given him during his browsing of her stand. He wondered if he’d be able to have a drink with her later that night, and decided the question at the very least was worth a shot.
“One more thing, miss-”
She looked back up with him with a smile and a tilt of her head. “Ah, yes sir?”
She was adorable- A face covered in freckles was framed in fiery curls that were held back by a forest green bandana, both complementing the greens and reds of the apples and other fruits she was selling, with a slightly muddied dress to match. She would occasionally wipe her hands down on the apron she had tied around her waist, though Sanji wasn’t sure what she was wiping off, or if it would even help given all the flour that had taken up residence on her apron. He found it entirely endearing, nonetheless, and had found his latest crush in her. He took in a slight breath before he popped his question.
“I was wondering if you would be so kind as to join me for a drink sometime later tonight. You could pick your favorite place, and it would be my treat.”  
“Ah!” She exclaimed, her demeanor changing suddenly. Her smile fading, she was no longer peppy, she wrung her hands together once and let out a nervous laugh.
“Honestly, sir, I wouldn’t advise going out too much at night if you can help it. What with everything going on lately…”
He blinked at her once, barely processing the rejection over her slightly concerning choices of words before he shook his head slightly with a laugh. “My apologies miss, but I’m mostly just passing through here, so I’m not very aware of the local happenings. What would be so wrong in going out for a drink tonight?”
“Well… There’s been quite a few… attacks lately…”
“Attacks?”
"Yes sir, attacks." She let out a sigh with another wring of her hands. Sanji hated to see her so worried, but he had wanted an explanation as to why the whole city seemed to be so distrusting of each other, even more so than others they had stopped at in the past, and it was looking like this was his best bet at getting an answer.
“Have people been getting badly hurt?” He pressed gently, trying his best not to upset her, but actually get information at what was even going on. She shook her head.
“Um… I guess you could say that, but… it’s usually much worse…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t think one person who’s gotten attacked has made it out alive, at least to my knowledge.”
Sanji gaped slightly, a chill running down his spine.
“Not one? Then how do you know what’s causing the disappearances? I mean-” He shook his head and waved a hand lightly. “Not to doubt your information, just to question the-”
“Because the local law enforcement always finds puddles of blood with some sort of belongings that belonged once to the now missing person, or people.”
Sanji went silent after that, unsure of how to respond or even if he should after hearing something like that come from such a frightened lady’s mouth. He had his explanation, though. And he knew he wouldn’t like it, not based on the looks people gave around the city and the way they had been carrying themselves, but this was a completely different level. Possible murders or brutal kidnappings? That was the work of disgusting people and pirates that riddled the streets of gambling and port towns that were meant for such leeches, not a city that boasted about it’s leisurely activities and shopping districts.
Something sinister was patrolling the shadows, it seemed.
He would admit, he didn’t see himself as one who got involved in situations like this by his own choice, not at all. The very life of a pirate was living side by side with danger, and ignoring the fall out from such. That involved not helping everyone he would come across on every single island they would stop at, no matter how docile or hostile the island was. His nakama would laugh though, claiming there wasn’t a person in the world he wouldn’t drop everything to help, and no matter how much he threatened to not let them have dinner that night or snacks that morning, it did nothing to deter them from cheering about how weak he was for those who needed help, and how kind his heart was because of it. Not even he could help but smile, throwing out more empty threats as they always carried on despite it all.
Besides, the stall girl seemed quite distressed anyway, and who was he if he chose to ignore a woman’s sufferings?
“And is there… a certain area of the city where most of these incidents are taking place?” He questioned, trying to seem casual but it was probably obvious right now what he was doing regardless. “Maybe a corner of the city that whoever has been doing these things has been hanging out in more than other areas? A home base, so to speak?”
It took her a moment, he’d give himself that. But her jaw slowly dropped open as she realized what he was questioning of her.
“You’re… you’re not seriously thinking about going out and finding out who’s doing all of this, are you?!”
He shrugged, nestling his paper bag of fruit into the crook of his elbow.
“I don’t know, I just thought it’d be nice to see the city during the few days I’m going to be here, and would rather avoid the less safe and tasteful corners of the neighborhood.”
“Has anyone told you how awful of a liar you are?”
He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face in the next second. Oh, if only she had seen him throughout his years as a pirate- how much he had lied to their enemies faces and gotten away with it so smoothly- To the point where he was right behind Nami and Usopp in terms of who could lie the best and get away with the most.
“No, never, mademoiselle~”
She only continued to stare back at him, almost disbelieving of what he had just asked her a moment ago. So slowly began to shake her head as she lifted a hand to the bridge of her nose.
“Right. Sure. A random man who claims to be new in town wants to take down a possible serial killer that no one, not even the local law enforcement, has any clues or leads on yet. Wonderful. Wow, Bea, you’re really about to tell him aren’t you?”
“Well Bea, I would first like to say you have a beautiful name befitting of such a wonderful young lady-” Sanji began, his smile only growing bigger as he gave her a little bow, careful not to spill the contents of the bag he held. “- And secondly, if I were to, say, take down a possible serial killer that no one, not even the local law enforcement, has any clues or leads on yet…”
He held his right hand out to her, and waited to continue until she had given him a confused look and put her own hand in his. He kissed the back of her hand lightly before looking back up at her, a smile still ever present as he spoke again.
“Would you be so kind as to join me for a drink sometime later this week?”
She let out a groan slowly, but a smile began to form across her face despite it as he let out a laugh before finishing his sentence.
“You could pick your favorite place, and it would be my treat.”
She just watched him for a moment, trying to read him in some shape or form, before she shook her head defeatedly, a few curls escaping her bandana as she did so with a smile.
“Look, if you’re so willing to recklessly chase someone who’s somehow managed to take so many lives, be my guest. But don’t you expect to play hero and then come waltzing back here to take me on a date without actually catching the guy and making it out alive.”
“Oh darling, trust me, I don’t ‘play’ hero.”
“Sure.”
“So.” He straightened up, letting go of her hand as she gently pulled it back away. “Where are most of the crimes happening? Is there a general area I could look?”
She gave a hesitant shrug. “Most of the cases I’ve heard have been happening on the south side of town, near the far port. There’s taverns there for any sailors or pirates to stop in and it makes for good business usually, except lately with everything going on.”
“And you’re sure it isn’t just some pirate activity going on? Bar fights with innocents getting wrapped up into it all?”
“There’s never any bodies, just blood and something belonging to the victims.”
He rubbed his goatee as he thought it over. It was the perfect place to do whatever the culprit was doing- choosing an area that was both usually busy and also a bit shady. A place where pirates and sailors frequented, coming and going so much that the local authorities would assume at first that the culprit of the crimes was a passing pirate, and that there wouldn’t be any need in locating them in the first place, given how quickly they would have left the island after doing something so horrible as what they had if they were even slightly smart.
He could only hope that everyone had caught on that this wasn’t just a passing pirate anymore, not after how often it was happening long after the criminal should have escaped after doing what they had. This was someone who was here for a long haul, or a resident of the island themself. And if it was the former, Sanji needed to catch them quickly, in case they were on the ending half of their stay here or risk losing them.
And the taverns… That just ensured drunken victims and witnesses to entangle themself with. Less likelihood of them getting caught should they slip up if no one was in the proper state of mine to identify them in the first place. At the very least, this person- or people- had been smart enough to think of a good location to do what they were doing. He would just need to be smarter in order to catch them.
Easy enough.
He gave Bea another smile before adjusting his paper bag once more and giving her a little wave goodbye.
“I think that’s all I need, thank you mademoiselle~”
She stared at him once more, before rolling her eyes with a smile.
“Sure, well, good luck with your little murder mystery, sir. Please don’t go dying as well, alright? You actually seem sweet, and I’d hate to see you in the paper tomorrow for any other reason besides being crowned a hero for taking down the perpetrator.”
“Sweet you say? Why, you flatter me, my dear!” He laughed, taking a step away as he began to leave. “The name is Sanji, and I hope to hear you exclaim it tomorrow when I come back here to take you out for drinks that evening, alright?”
She watched him walking away, nodding at him as he did so, so he could leave with an answer to his flirts at the very least. She could only hope he would cower away from what was going on by nightfall. He seemed like a nice man, and his eyes were nothing but kind.
Sani, however, was confident. He’d dealt with emperors of the sea, Marine admirals, and warlords of every shape and form. He’d faced greater threats than most, and even faced his abusers again for the sake of his true family. It would take more than a street criminal to make him cower from a fight, much less when a date with a lady was at stake, or the lives of whoever else this criminal planned on taking too in the future should Sanji not stop them here.
He wouldn’t be cowering anytime soon, no. That much was obvious. It was simply a matter of how he was going to go about tracking down the guy, and taking him down…
He had a bit of an idea as to how, though.
-----
His wait in silence on the city rooftops ended abruptly, the moment a piercing scream echoed through the alleyways and reached his ears.
He jumped into action, quite literally, off of the building. The scream was coming from the direction of the port and taverns, and he hadn’t seen anyone go by for a while now, which could mean very little witnesses to what was going on, much less credible and sober ones. He needed to be fast, or else whoever was causing the scream, and whoever was doing the screaming, would be gone before he could get there.
The cold air bit his cheeks where they weren’t covered in his mask as he jumped, and the wind whipped by him as he fell. It was a free fall- He hadn’t yet activated his boots, or made any attempt at sky walk, and there was no need to. Falling was faster, a more direct route to get to the source of the screaming, and yet somehow- it was as if time itself slowed.
He could never place it, not when he dropped from sky walking, and not when he first dropped from flight when he had first donned the raid suit when fighting against Page 1. It was a freefall, and time moved slowed for the mere seconds it would last, seeing as he never got high enough for it to last any longer. The world was unmoving for the time, and the stillness held a calm unlike any other he had experienced. His entire senses were somehow both screaming out all at once, and not there at all, his heart beat pounding once and then nothing, not until his descent was complete.
He wondered if any of the others felt this way whenever they jumped from high places, be it Luffy launching himself off of something headfirst into adventure or a fight, or Chopper jumping from a floor up to change forms before mowing down an enemy or join the others in whatever fun they were having. Maybe it was just him, just Sanji who felt this strange sense of calm wash over him in the moments before he caught himself midair and stuck a landing, or launched back into flight.
Whatever it was, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the feeling of the fall, and he enjoyed the moment that seemed to last forever, yet in reality only lasted a second or two before he would flip around and catch himself, dashing off in the direction of the screaming as fast as his suit would take him, to save someone. To solve what was going on. To help someone who needed him.
Who needed Soba Mask.
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The Black Swan
Chapter 8
Rating: T
Genre: Fluff/Angst
Word count: 8200
Chapter: 8/17 (All chapters)
Summary: Baz and Simon go to a party.
Read on AO3
AN: Hello! Sorry this was delayed. I promise you it's worth the wait. It's super fun and there's awesome art by @bookerella. Enjoy :)
———————————————
“Baz!” Simon shouted as he jumped off the dirt wall. He nearly fell over as he hit the ground, what with two rucksacks on his back throwing him off balance. “Baz!”
“For goodness sake, Simon, I’m right here,” Baz called back. “I’m literally the only person here.” He was standing by the lake, just throwing on his shirt. Simon caught himself staring at a strip of reddish-gold skin on his lower back. His throat suddenly got very dry.
“Simon? Simon, are you there?” Baz was standing right in front of him, waving a hand in Simon’s face. His brow was adorably furrowed. It almost distracted from the large purple bruise on his upper cheek. Simon’s gut twisted very painfully. It just confirmed how much he needed to do this.
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. His excitement returned in full force, a grin splitting across his face. “And I’ve got something exciting to tell you!”
Baz raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”
“Okay okay, awesome.” Simon plopped down on the ground. Baz sat cross legged directly across from him. “So, Watford doesn’t have a lot of holidays, but we have this big one, the solstice festival. It’s this enormous party celebrating the end of the long nights and the start of the longer days. Everyone gets together and just has a great time. The biggest solstice festival is in Watford Town. And it’s tomorrow.”
“Sounds wonderful," he deadpans. "Why are you telling me about it? Is this an impromptu history lesson?”
Simon took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what reaction Baz would have, but he knew it would be something he needed to prepare for. “No. I’m saying...that we should go. Both of us. We should go to the festival together.”
Simon saw many emotions pass over Baz’s face. The initial confusion as he processed Simon’s words, the quick bolt of shock as he understood their meaning, followed by splash of fear, and ending with straight up utter panic.
“No!” Baz yelled frantically, scrambling away from Simon. “No! Absolutely not! No fucking way!”
Simon inched forward a bit, but Baz backed away even more. “Baz, just listen-”
Baz stood up and kept his back to Simon, arms crossed over his chest. “I will not listen, because this is crazy.”
“I mean, is it though?”
“Yes!” Baz turned his head, letting Simon see a corner of his glare. “Have you forgotten my situation, Simon? I’m a prisoner, a cursed prisoner, who is meant to stay in this lake!
“But...you fly out of here as a swan...”
“That’s different! I’m supposed to stay here when I’m human. No one is supposed to see me. Especially not hundreds of people at a bloody festival!”
Simon stood up, nervously fiddling with the hem of his tunic. “Well, no one would actually see you.”
Baz narrowed his gaze even more. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“People dress up for the festival. Everyone wears a pretty costume and a mask. No one sees your face.”
Baz turned his body halfway around, but his arms were still crossed. “Are they actually effective at hiding your identity?”
“Well, I think they do. Look at this.” Simon rummaged in his bag and pulled out the mask he bought for himself. He hadn’t been able to resist it while scoping out the market, honestly. It was a bright red dragon’s face with a long snout. The front was decorated with small, glittery crystals. Gold mesh and red fabric lined the edge that looked like flames. Four golden horns curled out from the top. Simon saw it yesterday and it was just too gorgeous not to buy. And from Baz’s wide eyes, he liked it too.
Simon held it in front of his face, not bothering with the stupid ribbon on the back. “See? Can barely tell it’s me, right?”
Baz turned all the way. He still didn’t look fully convinced though. His eyes flicked upward. “I can still see your hair, and it’s...distinctive.” Simon swore there was some colour on Baz’s cheeks, but his complexion and bruise obscured it. “Mine is too. What if the man sees my hair? I don’t know if he lives in town or not.”
Simon pulled a piece of thick red fabric from his bag and threw it on his head. He knew it looked silly but that wasn't the point right now. “You can wear a headscarf, like this. I do it all the time when I go into town.”
“Why?”
Simon inhaled sharply. Shit, he thought. He was glad Baz couldn’t see his entire face right now. That fleeting confidence he’d had about revealing his royalty a few nights ago was definitely gone by now. “Uh, people stare at my hair. Like you said, it’s distinctive. I find it annoying, so, scarf.”
Baz's resolve cracked, eyes softening and arms lowering slightly. But he still didn’t look fully convinced. “This is still really risky. If he sees me out of the lake, he would most likely kill me. Or worse, he might kill you.”
The breath left Simon’s lungs for a moment. He didn’t know how to interpret that. Was Baz just horrified at the idea of someone else dying because of him? Or Simon in particular dying? It was too confusing. He didn’t want to think it through.
Simon took a step forward, letting the mask fall from his face, figuratively and literally. He tried to look at Baz as sympathetically as possible.
“Baz,” he said softly, “I definitely get why you’re scared. He’s a scary man. But...I think it would be worth it to get out there instead of being cooped up here like a hermit.”
“It’s not like that’s my choice,” Baz hissed.
Simon raised his hands in deference. “I-I know, Baz, of course I know that. I’m not blaming you, it’s obviously not your fault. I’m just saying, it might be a good idea to get out of here for one night. You may still be stuck with your curse for now, but you’re human at heart, and you need to be around other humans.”
The other boy looked down, frowning slightly, digging his bare toe into the ground. “I’m around you a lot.”
That made something warm pool in Simon’s stomach. It sounded dangerously close to a compliment. Simon couldn’t be sure. But that wasn’t what was important right now. He took another few steps forward. Baz didn’t step back.
“Yeah, you are, but I’m only one human. When we break you’re curse, you’re going to have to be around other people. So, this can be a trial run for when you’re free.” Baz bit his lip at the last word. Simon couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or fear. “Plus, it’ll be really fun. Lots of singing, dancing, nice food. I promise, we’ll have a great time.”
Baz chuckled. “I’d have to trust you on that, I’ve never been to a party.”
“And you should get to go to one, stupid curse or not.” The boys were standing very close. Close enough that Simon could put a hand on Baz’s shoulder, and Baz flinched, but he didn’t pull away. “Honestly though? I really just think you should do something fun. It might distract you from...other stuff.”
Simon looked at Baz’s purple cheek. Baz’s hand instinctively hovered over it, then let it drop fast, looking somewhere between angry and embarrassed. Simon wanted so badly to take his pain away. He wasn’t sure if a festival could do that, but he could at least try.
“What if he comes to check on me?” Baz asked quietly.
“You said he only comes every few weeks or months,” Simon replied, “so he won’t be back for awhile.”
Baz nodded. “What about the sunrise?”
“It’s the longest night of the year. You won’t have to worry about the sunrise for awhile.”
“What if he spots me?”
“We’ll run very, very fast.”
That made Baz smile, ever so slightly. But his face quickly fell again. He reached up to touch his bruise again, fingertips barely touching the area. “What about...this? Would a mask help?”
Simon grinned. He was very proud of this part. He reached into his second bag, and pulled out the second mask he bought. “Yeah, I think it would.”
Baz cautiously took the mask. It was elegant, which was what caught Simon’s attention. The base was made of ebony with painted accents. The forehead was mostly black, with sprays of silver coming out from the edges to spread across the mask’s surface until only the nose was bare, making a sort of half hourglass pattern. Simon thought it looked like bursts of moonlight on a night sky. The mask covered the forehead and cheeks, but left the mouth visible. It was beautiful, and would certainly work for Baz.
“See?” Simon said. “That will hide it for sure.”
Baz tilted it back and forth, examining it with his careful, analytical gaze. He traced the silver lattice pattern lining the eye holes with a single finger. Simon couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His mouth twisted and changed, like words wanted to burst out but he kept them back. Simon’s nerves mounted with every passing second. He wanted Baz to want this, he wanted Baz to have some fun, he wanted to show Baz the world they were working towards getting him into.
“Do you have a costume for me too?” he asked. “Because none of my clothes are will probably be sufficiently flashy.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Simon offered his second rucksack, the top already opened. Baz looked inside. His eyes widened for a moment, then he gave Simon a deadpan look.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said.
Simon shrugged, mouth pulled in a sheepish smile. “I’ve been told I can be.”
Baz closed the rucksack. He looked at Simon with a soft expression. And he sighed. “Alright, I’ll go to the festival with you.”
A fire exploded in Simon’s heart. Excitement rushed through his veins. He jumped up and down and clapped like an excited school child. “Amazing! Awesome! We’re gonna have so much fun!”
“I do hope so.” Baz carefully put the bag down. “We’re risking our lives for it.”
Simon was about to rebut or apologize, but Baz swiftly picked up his stick-sword and pointed it at Simon’s face. He had an annoyingly smug smirk on his face.
“Now, enough about costumes and parties,” he drawled with smug confidence. “I’ve been looking forward to beating you for days.”
Simon’s competitiveness, the kind he only really felt with Baz, raged back in full force. He threw aside his bag and swiftly picked up his own stick. He took his fighting stance, smirking as well.
“Well then,” he said, “en garde.”
———————————————
Sneaking out of the palace in common clothes was hard enough as it was. But climbing out a window in a tight costume jacket and pants. He didn’t want to be spotted by the guards or a passerby either, and the bright red peeking out from his cloak didn’t help. Simon did it anyway, repelling down the wall slowly as to not rip his trousers, keeping his brown cloak close around him, using his wand a bit to clear a path in the Forbidden Lands. (Though he ended up destroying a few trees.)
But he did it, he managed to get through. And soon enough, he was poorly cushioning his fall into Baz’s lake. He hit the dirt with a hard thump.
“Ow,” he groaned.
“You really do suck at magic,” Baz chuckled. Simon looked up.
Then the whole world seemed to freeze.
Baz was beautiful, Simon knew that. It was an objective fact. Elegant face, perfect hair, incredible eyes. Beautiful, no question. But right now, he was...he was so much more. Tonight, he was goddamn majestic.
Simon’s eyes scanned upward. The black boots and leather riding pants perfectly stretched over Baz’s toned calves and powerful thighs. His double breasted jacket showed off his lean figure without making him look thin. Simon could see the outline of his strong arms through the long sleeves. It was black too of course, woven with feather patterns made from stunning silver thread. A matching silver scarf was draped loosely around his long neck. His hair was slicked back, showing off his pretty smirking face. Though Simon really did prefer it loose. Oh well. He couldn’t get everything he wanted. But Baz was smiling so wide that Simon barely noticed his bruise. So he was pretty damn happy.
“You want to get up, Simon?” Baz asked with amusement.
Simon was shocked out of his daze. He huffed and offered his hand. “Yeah. Help me up.”
Baz hoisted Simon to his feet. Simon’s wool cloak fell with him. Baz’s hand dropped, and his eyes went wide.
“Huh,” he whispered. “That’s...quite the outfit.”
Simon looked down at himself. He didn’t know whether it was a compliment or not. He thought he looked okay. His scarlet jacket was longer than Baz’s, reaching to his calves instead of the middle of his knees. And it only had one set of gold buttons instead of two sets made of silver. The tails were decorated with orange and gold so it looked like fire spilling down his back. Fire was a theme with this outfit. His red trousers even had gold flames stitched on the sides. Sure, it all looked sort of ridiculous, but everyone at the festival looked ridiculous. And not everyone could look as incredible as Baz.
“Does it look bad?” Simon asked meekly.
Baz shook his head. “Certainly not.” He reached out to fix the collar of Simon’s white shirt, flattening it down against his coat. “You look like a very nice fairy tale creature.”
Simon’s stomach and chest felt very, very hot. He wasn't used to compliments, and the feeling of one just washed over him in a very pleasant way. He grinned at Baz. “Thanks.”
Baz held his arms out and gave a little spin, coat tails waving in the slight wind. “How do I look?”
“Incredible,” Simon blurted out. He felt his cheeks heat up and looked at the ground. “You, you look good. You’re practically made for fancy clothes, I think.”
Baz bowed deeply, arms on his stomach and back, hair nearly brushing the ground. “Well, thank you, good sir.”
Simon giggled with a hand over his mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”
“So is this outfit, but I’m not complaining.” He started walking forwards, mask swinging from his fingertips. “Come along then, I want to see this wonderful festival.”
Simon nodded and followed along. “Yeah, let’s go.”
They walked to the wall. Baz looked up at with a tense mouth and worried eyes. Simon knew he was scared. He hadn’t been out of this lake as a human for fourteen years. Of course he’d be scared. But Simon didn’t want him to be. So, being the brave idiot he knew he was, Simon reached out brushed the back of his hand against Baz’s. A small gesture, but the sensation of Baz’s skin on his radiated through Simon’s entire being anyways. Baz flinched, but only slightly.
“Don’t worry,” Simon said softly. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll be fine.”
“I bloody hope so,” Baz replied under his breath.
Simon took a deep breath, and fully grabbed Baz’s hand. Their calluses scraped against each other. Baz didn’t flinch at all. Simon somehow felt tense and happy all at once. Like a storm made of sunlight. “Let’s go.”
Simon, despite being quite strong, was not strong enough to hoist both Baz and himself up over the wall by sword. He didn’t even have his sword tonight  anyway. So he had to magically lift up both of them and over, something he had not been looking forward to. It was a relatively simple spell but magic was never simple for Simon. He reached into his coat and pulled out his wand. The damn thing rarely worked, but it was slightly safer than just wishing for something to happen and hoping it worked. He held it up high.
“Up and out!” He shouted. Nothing happened. Baz made a confused noise. Simon groaned and shook the stupid stick. “Come on, please.”
He squeezed his eyes and thought very, very hard about how much he wanted to get both of them out of here. Then their feet were off the ground. Baz gasped and held Simon's hand tighter. Simon cautiously opened his eyes. They were at least three feet off the ground, rising slowly, the lake disappearing below. Baz’s other hand gripped his bicep.
“Amazing,” he whispered.
Simon’s heart swelled with pride. He grinned and leaned closer to Baz. And that little thought was all it took for Simon’s concentration to break.
They rocketed upwards out of the the lake, so fast and high they hit a tree branch. Simon’s shoulder hit it very painfully. But falling and crashing into the forest floor hurt far, far worse. They both hit with a resounding thud, leaves falling around them.
“Less amazing,” Baz grumbled.
“Sorry,” Simon said as he sat up, rubbing his shoulder. Luckily, their costumes were still okay, just a few leaves they needed to brush off. Simon stood up and slipped his wand back into his jacket. Baz stood as well and shook the dirt out of his hair.
“Well,” Baz sighed. “It wasn’t dignified but at least it was effective. We’re out.”
Simon smiled sheepishly. “Yeah that’s true.”
Baz tilted his head up and looked around. It obviously wasn’t the first time he’d seen outside the lake, but it was the first time he’d seen it as a human. Maybe the world looked different through the eyes of a swan. Simon hoped Baz liked it through the eyes of a human too.
Baz held out his mask to Simon. “Can you help me put this on now? The ribbons are annoying as shit to do on your own.”
Simon nodded. “Yeah, yeah of course, turn around.”
Baz did, longish hair facing Simon. Luckily there was still a bit of twilight, so Simon could mostly see what he was doing. With shaky fingers, he fitted the mask over Baz’s face and tied the ribbon in a slightly messy bow. Baz turned back around and simultaneously threw on his silver scarf. It was strange. Simon knew it was Baz, of course, but the mask and scarf made him almost unrecognizable. He looked less like the Baz he knew and more like a mysterious gentleman, with a face like the night sky and hair made of moonlight.
“Good?” Baz asked with a smirk.
Simon swallows down his dry throat. He reached forward and tucked a stray black hair under his scarf. The silver goes with his eyes, he thought to himself. Baz smiled almost shyly.
“There, perfect,” Simon said. He offered his own mask. “Do up mine?”
Baz nodded. Simon turned. The dragon mask fit perfectly over his face. Baz easily tied the ribbon with deft fingers. Simon threw on his own scarf and turned on his heels with flourish. He held his arms out dramatically.
“Good?” He echoed.
Baz grinned, and it shined far more than the silver in his outfit. “Stunning.”
Simon’s heart swelled. He was filled with excitement beyond words. He offered his hand, and Baz took it. “Let’s go.”
And they ran off together into the darkness but towards the distant light.
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———————————————
In the most accurate summary, the solstice festival was fucking insane.
Simon hadn’t been to one since he was 15 when he, Agatha, and Penny had snuck out of School to go. And he’d forgotten how crazy it all was. It seemed everyone was out to party tonight. Houses were covered in shining cloths. Torches had multicolored magical fire, decorating the walls in rainbow shades. Streamers flew off everything from balconies to people’s arms. The air itself felt electric with the laughter and music. The narrow streets of Watford Town were packed tight with cheering costumed citizens. He and Baz were bumped around so much it made Simon dizzy.
Baz had a death grip on his hand. Simon glanced back, and Baz looked absolutely terrified. He was pulled in on himself and his eyes were darting around. Someone bumped him particularly hard and he jumped. This wouldn’t do.
Simon directed them towards a small alleyway. It was mostly empty, save for two women in such a passionate embrace they barely noticed anyone else. Simon looked away from them with slightly reddened cheeks. Baz was visibly shaken. His lips were trembling slightly.
“You okay?” Simon asked, having to yell over the noise. “We can go if you want.”
Baz shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m just not used to this many people and this much noise up close. Seeing from above is different from being in the middle of it. It’s...very odd.”
Simon squeezed his hand. “You sure want to stay?”
A smile quirked up on his mouth. “Definitely. I think this looks fun, in spite of the crowds.”
Simon nodded and pulled them towards the exit. “Then let’s get out of here.”
They went back into the fray. It was still loud and insane, but Baz wasn’t holding his hand as tightly.
Just as the two turned a corner, a lady in a magnificent mermaid outfit approached them. She got very close in their faces. Baz tensed for a moment, but quickly relaxed. Simon felt relieved.
“Want some mini scones?” she yelled
Simon looked back at Baz. Baz shrugged. Simon turned back to her. “Sure,” he said.
The woman offered her tray, and Simon plucked two pastries. He handed one to Baz, then tapped them together. Even from behind the mask, Simon could tell Baz’s brow had furrowed.
“Cheers,” Simon said. “Happy festival, Baz.”
Baz’s mouth pulled up into a half smile. “Happy festival, Simon.”
They popped the small treats in their mouths. Simon beamed instantly. It was a sour cherry scone. They weren’t as good as Cook Pritchard’s, of course, but sour cherry scones were still sour cherry scones. Baz made a strange face. It wasn’t exactly a frown, but it wasn’t a smile either. He looked confused more than anything.
“What do you think?” Simon asked.
“Better than lake plants and worms,” Baz said. Simon chuckled, shaking his head. “It really is good though, I like it.”
Simon grinned, his heart fluttering. It was probably weird to feel flattered by someone liking your favourite pastry, but Simon didn’t think too much about that. He just let himself be happy.
“Good. Wanna try some other foods? There’s lots here.”
Baz nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.”
Simon took Baz down towards the shop alley. The stalls were decorated in every colour imaginable. Merchants were yelling, hawking their food and wares. Simon pulled them through it, scanning over the tables for something good. He stopped at a glittery stall with a man wearing a vibrant blue mask. Simon asked two mince pie slices. Baz took a small bite, then greedily shoved the rest in his mouth. Simon chuckled while Baz glared at him.
“Shut up, I’m hungry,” he grumbled.
As they left, Simon quietly paid the man. He didn’t want Baz to know how much coin he had in his inner coat pocket, courtesy of not using his allowance for three months.
They weaved their way to another place with fish cakes, then another with caramel drizzled apple slices, then even one with roast beef bites. Baz ate them all and more. Simon thought he was ravenous, but Baz was a sinkhole where no food could survive. Being a swan who had to eat worms did that to you, Simon guessed.
“Oh goodness,” Baz groaned quietly. “It tastes so good.”
“Never had food like this before? Not even with Vera?” Simon asked.
Baz shook his head vigorously. “Definitely not. We always got very bland foods to cook with. Mint pie was the closest we had to something good.”
Simon’s heart felt warm. He was so happy that Baz was happy. It was a unique kind of joy that Simon had only felt with his friends, but never this intensely before. Never like it would burn him from the inside out until he was blissful dust.
He didn’t know how to say all that casually to Baz though. So Simon just kept holding his hand and gave him another slice of toasted sweet bread.
After sampling a feast’s worth of flavours, they moved further into the market, where there were more wares instead of food. Baz examined the glittering glassware and fine metalwork. He traced a glass bowl swirling with dark blue and bright red. It was obviously shaped by magic. Baz was quite fascinated. Simon was about to offer to buy it, when a familiar voice cut through the bustling crowd.
“Si? Is that you?”
Simon whipped around. Right behind them, past a very drunk couple dressed as horses, was a kitchenware stand with a girl wearing a feathered purple mask and matching cape. Simon grinned. “Hey, Penny!” he shouted, pulling him and Baz towards her.
“What the hell are you doing out tonight?” She asked. “Thought David didn’t want you out.”
“Since when has that stopped me?” Simon chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. He was so scared Penny would let something about his royal status slip. He could only hope and prayed his princehood wouldn’t come up.
Penny scoffed. “Okay, true.” Her eyes flicked over to Baz. “Who’s this?”
Simon’s heart seized, and Baz’s hand was like a vice on his. They both knew they were thinking the same thing. Anyone could be the cloaked man. What if Penny accidentally said Baz’s name to him? It wouldn’t be her fault, but it was a risk they couldn’t take.
“Uh,” Simon said, “this is my new friend. His name is...Kaz.”
There was a brief silence (as silent as a bustling festival could get.) Baz gave Simon a deadpan look through his mask. Penny was just severely confused.
“Kaz,” she said it slowly, testing the sound in her mouth.
“Y-Yeah,” Simon replied. “He’s from...out of town. Just moved here recently.”
“Is he who you were talking about before?”
Baz’s grip somehow got even tighter. Simon’s nervousness was at its peak. “M-hm. And I think I’m helping. Right, Kaz?”
Baz gave him an odd look, but mumbled, “sure,” anyway.
Simon nodded. Penny still looked confused and bit doubtful. “Um, Kaz, this is Penelope. She’s my good friend.”
Baz, though obviously very nervous, offered his own hand. “Hi, Simon’s friend Penelope,” he said stiffly, voice similar to how it was when he first met Simon.
Penny very cautiously took it. They shook slowly. “Hi...Kaz. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
They’re hands fell awkwardly. Baz shifted closer to Simon. Penny still looked at both of them doubtfully.
“So how are sales?” Simon asked very, very quickly.
Penny sighed. She stopped looking so doubtful. Getting Penny to complain about her job was the best way to distract her. “They’re alright. People aren’t really interested in cookware during a festival, annoying drunk bastards. But it’s fine.”
“Glad to hear it. You going to be off anytime soon?”
“No, I’m working all night.”
Simon frowned. “Aw, that sucks. We’d all have fun together!” He meant that. No matter how scared he was about his royalty being revealed, he really wanted was to have fun with his friend.
Penny gave a lopsided smile and reached out to pat Simon’s free hand. “It’s fine, Si. You and Kaz go have fun. I’ll see you next time you sneak out, alright?”
He gripped her hand for a moment. “Okay. See you later, Pen.”
“See you, Si! Uh, see you, Kaz.” She waved them both off. Simon waved back with his whole arm, but Baz just moved his hand slightly. He nudged Simon forward, and Simon was happy to comply.
The two went back into the crowd. Baz was still hanging on to Simon’s hand, like he had almost all night, but his grip felt a bit looser.
“Did you tell her about me? About my...problem?” he asked, seemingly pissed off but also maybe a little scared.
Simon immediately shook his head. “No! No, of course not. I just told her I had a friend who was sad and needed to be cheered up. She suggested the festival.”
“And she doesn’t know anything else?”
“No. I mean, I’ve asked her about curses a few times because she’s smart, and borrowed some books from her, but she doesn’t know it’s about you. She thinks my guardian is testing me on magic history.”
Baz still looked a bit doubtful, but nodded. “Alright. I suppose that makes sense.” His eyes slid over to Simon, fixing him with a cold grey stare. “What did she mean about sneaking out though?”
Simon inhaled through his nose. His heart seized like it had the many times he had gotten close to telling Baz. But not right now. He didn’t want to fight with him tonight, when Baz was supposed to be having the night of his life. So Simon just leaned a bit closer so he didn’t have to yell.
“My guardian's super strict,” he said. “He doesn’t like me going out a lot. He gets really mad when I do.”
Baz raised one brow, or at least Simon assumed he did from the way his muscles moved, what with the mask in the way. “Then how do you see me almost every night?”
Simon grinned as brightly as he could. “Well, I have to sneak out my window, actually. It’s risky, but,” he tugged on Baz’s hand, making the other boy stumble just a bit closer, “I think it’s worth it.”
Baz’s face relaxed, and Simon let a sigh of relief. Baz squeezed his hand once. “Good to know.”
They wandered around the market for a little longer. Baz spent an exorbitant amount of time at a book stand. Simon had to remind him that their time was longer than usual but still limited. Baz pouted but moved on. They ate some more food, Simon discreetly paying for each, and moved closer and closer to the main town square. Just as they were about to reach it, a man crossed their path. He was wearing a cloak made of peacock feathers, and just like the mermaid lady, he had a tray balanced on his hand. But instead of scone bites, it held tiny wooden glasses.
“Spirits to get you into the solstice spirit!” He yelled extremely cheerfully. “Free sample!”
Simon was taken aback, literally and figuratively. He looked at Baz in silent question. Baz nodded, then Simon turned back to the man.
“We’ll each take one,” Simon said. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Happy festival!” He handed Simon two cups. Baz nodded at the man, movement a little less awkward than his movements before.
The peacock man moved on into the fray. Baz brought his nose to his cup, took a sniff, then reeled back, mouth twisted in disgust. “Good Gods, it smells horrific! What is this?”
Simon looked in his cup. The liquid was clear, and it smelled like the disinfectant you used on cuts. Simon knew exactly what it was. “It’s northern spirits. They make it from grain up there. It smells terrible and tastes even worse from what I’ve heard.”
“Then why on Earth would anyone drink it?!”
Simon shrugged. “It makes you loopy and relax, I guess. People make a big fuss about it.”
Baz looked at the drink suspiciously. He flicked his eyes to Simon. “I’ll drink it if you do?”
Simon smiled. He lightly tapped his cup against Baz’s. “Cheers, Baz.”
His face relaxed, and he raised his own cup slightly. “Cheers, Simon.”
And they both drank. But the second the spirit passed their lips though, both their eyes went wide. Simon immediately knew what he heard was correct, it did taste worse than it smelled. Baz pulled the cup away and coughed, hand pressed to his chest. Simon wasn’t much better, hand over his mouth. Barely a sip and his throat was on fire.
“Dear Gods,” Baz coughed, “it’s vile!”
“Agreed,” Simon strangled out.
“At least we know all the fuss is about. And that’s it stupid.”
Simon chuckled. “Definitely.” He looked down at his still full cup. “Wow, barely took a sip and I’m dying.”
Baz looked down at his as well. “Same here. And I’m not taking another one.” He poured the clear liquid on the ground with no shame, then left the wooden cup on a window sill. Simon did the same. It was the solstice festival, things were supposed to be crazy. Leaving a tiny cup on a window was probably the most normal thing that would happen tonight.
"Can we please find something better than this awful drink?" Baz asked almost pathetically.
Simon grinned. He grabbed Baz’s hand again and pulled him forward. “Come and see.”
They shoved past the crowds, and ended up exactly where Simon wanted to be. He heard Baz gasp. And it was a well earned gasp.
The town square was usually bustling, but it was nothing compared tonight. Possibly hundreds of people were all gathered in the space. All cheering, jumping and dancing. A band on a riser was playing an upbeat tune. At the centre was the large wooden pole. Streamers flowed from the top, latching on to the surrounding houses to create a canopy of wondrous colours. Magically made tiny balls of light weaved around the fabric strands. It felt like they were transported to another world. And Simon knew part of him never wanted to leave.
“Wow,” Baz whispered, “incredible.”
“Yeah,” Simon replied. “Told you, best party in the whole kingdom.”
“I can believe that. Though this isn’t really showing me normal non-cursed human life, is it?”
Simon chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I guess not. But I’m showing you something fun, right?”
Baz’s mouth quirked up. “Yes, you definitely are.”
Simon's pulse somehow got even faster. That was all he wanted, for Baz to have fun. He looked out towards the square. An idea that entered his head, and Simon was impulsive to say the least. So he pulled Baz forward. Baz followed, until they ended up right next to the dancing circle.
“Simon, what-” Baz was cut off as Simon pulled them both into the circle. The other costumed patrons immediately accepted them, grabbing their free hands, and they were suddenly dancing. Simon struggled for a moment. He didn’t know the dance but it wasn’t that hard. You took five steps to the right, then ten to the left, crossing your feet over each other, then throw your arms in the air with a cheer. It was a group effort, a beautiful pattern of small parts making something so big together. Something Simon was part of. Simon looked over to Baz. The other boy was still struggling somewhat, but there was a big smile on his face. He laughed with no hesitation, no worry, and Simon felt like his soul was on fire.
The song changed, and the strangers were suddenly letting go of their hands. Simon watched as they quickly paired off and danced together. Baz turned to him.
“Are we supposed to dance with each other now?” he asked with a lot of hesitation.
Simon chewed the corner of his lip and shuffled his feet. “Do you want to?”
Baz tapped his fingers on his upper thigh, other hand still loosely holding Simon’s. “I don’t really know how...”
“Oh, right. Do, uh, do you...want me to show you?”
Baz looked down at the ground, but he pressed their hands closer. “If you can...”
Simon’s cheeks were flaming. He wasn’t sure he could, but he wanted to try for Baz. He tugged Baz closer, and the other boy stumbled again. “I’ll certainly try.”
Baz nodded slightly. Simon took a deep breath. He tried to recall all that damn ball training David put him through. “Okay,” he said slowly, “first, um, we hold our arms out. Together.” Simon stretched out their arms, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers weaved together. “Then...I think you...hold my waist with your other arm.” Baz did so without hesitation. His hand was on the small of Simon’s back, touch firm and strong. Simon gulped. “Yeah, like that. And I, I actually don’t know what to do with my arm.”
“Maybe put it on my shoulder?”
Simon nodded. “Y-Yeah, that would work.”
Very slowly, Simon put his hand on Baz’s shoulder. It was like any other shoulder, of course. Firm, strong, made of muscles and sinew and blood. Yet somehow it felt like so, so much more.
“Now what?” Baz asked.
“Uh, now, we move in a sort of box formation. You go back, then right, then forward, then left, then we do the whole thing again. Does that make sense?”
Baz nodded once. “Yes, I think so. But hearing is a lot different than doing.”
Simon squeezed his hand in an attempt in reassurance. “It’s okay. We’ll go slow. And you can look at my feet, alright?”
Baz looked down, but squeezed back. “Alright. Let’s try.”
Simon took a deep breath, looked down, then stepped forward. Baz followed. It was simple. At least, doing it once was simple. And they were both still very stiff. They stepped again to the side, but each went in a different direction, tripping over each other’s feet.
“Right!” Simon said. “We go right!”
“I did go right,” Baz replied, frowning at Simon.
“My right, Baz.”
Baz groaned. “So picky.”
Simon hated his smug little smirk. He stuck his tongue. Baz chuckled, and they picked up the dance again. They went to Simon’s right, then backwards, then Simon’s left, all with little problem. With only a couple missteps, they found the rhythm, tuned into the music and each other. One two three four, one two three four, over and over, stepping and spinning into the colourful night. The boys moved like one being, soaring across the cobblestone together. A spell was over them, it seemed. Where rainbow lights decorated the sky and their feet were dancing on air.
Soon, Simon felt confident enough to look up, and to his utter but pleasant shock, Baz was looking up too. Their eyes met. Simon almost lost focus, losing himself in Baz’s criminally beautiful gaze. Baz’s mouth fell open slightly, then pulled into a soft smile. Simon smiled back, and they kept soaring across the ground.
———————————————
“Gods,” Baz chuckled as he fell on to the bench. “I can’t feel my feet.”
“Me neither,” Simon giggled as well, sitting next to him. The bench was just on the edge of town, far enough away from the loud music and cheering to let them collect their heads. They had danced for what felt like an eternity, with each other and with the group. It was heady, incredible, almost felt like a dream. Simon was still giddy from it. And from the look on his face, Baz was too.
Baz sighed, leaning back on the bench. “So, that’s what a party is like.”
Simon leaned back as well, head tilted over the back. “Well, not every party, but yeah, that one is pretty insane.”
“You been to other parties?”
Simon tensed for a moment, but quickly found what to say. “Yeah, a few. My guardian likes me to go, for status and all. I hate them usually.”
“Hm, understandable. I’ve always wondered what they were like since that one years ago.”
“Wait, have you seen a party before? Which one?”
Baz’s face suddenly fell. He shifted uncomfortably, gripping his trouser material. Simon was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say that. “Damn mask,” he grumbled. “It’s too hot.”
He pulled down his scarf and ripped off his mask. He let out a long breath, eyes closed. Simon found Baz’s full face a welcome sight. He liked looking at Baz. It was nice to see him again, even with that big bruise still on his cheek.
Simon took off his own mask, placing it in his lap. He ran his fingers over the the mesh and tiny gems. He’d have to hide this from David, but he was going to keep it no matter what.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Simon said quietly. “But whatever happened, I won’t judge you, I promise.”
Baz cracked open one eye. He scanned Simon over once, then sighed. He looked forward, arms crossed over his chest.
“It was ages ago,” Baz said. “One night, I was flying over the town with the other swans. I heard lots of cheering from below, like the sounds tonight. People were milling about and all. It looked and sounded fun, but my bird senses didn’t like the noise though. So, I went back to the lake, for the first time in awhile...”
Simon’s brow furrowed. “Wait, I thought you had to be on the lake to be human again.”
Baz’s mouth tensed for a moment. His fists clenched. “Remember...when I said I didn’t understand the curse at first? I didn’t get it for quite awhile. So I was...stuck as a swan for some time. I don’t know how long, the days became a bit of a blur. That’s when I lost track of my age.” Simon inhaled sharply. He struggled to not get up and punch a tree until it was splinter. “But that night, when I landed on the lake, I finally became human again. I was a lot taller than what I remembered, so I know it had been awhile. I looked up towards the party sounds in the distance, and there were these bursts of light in the sky. Just, huge flashes of purple and green. The childish part of me wondered if they were celebrating me being human again. Stupid, I know, but I was- well, who knows how old, but still young.”
“You were sixteen,” Simon blurted out. “You...you would’ve been sixteen around then.”
Baz looked at Simon curiously. “How do you know that?”
Simon looked very pointedly at his lap. “Because I know what party that was. It was all over town. I was sixteen when it happened, so you would’ve been sixteen too.”
“Hm, at least I know now.”
He fiddled with his trousers with shaky fingers. Of course Simon knew that party. He’d hated it. It was his own horrible sixteenth birthday ball, where he had to schmooze nobles instead of being with his friends. David had also declared the day a town wide celebration. It hadn’t been as big as the solstice festival but it had been big enough. David had ended the night by having some mages set off magical fireworks from their wands. Simon remembered loving the way they lit up the night sky. It was the only good part of that dreadfully boring night. And while Simon had been enjoying pretty lights on his birthday, Baz had just regained his humanity after years of being stuck as a swan.
“Three years,” Simon growled. “You were stuck as a swan for three fucking years.”
Baz looked at him with that familiar sad smile. “So it seems.”
Simon turned to face Baz, looking determined as possible. “But it won’t happen again. I’m going to break your curse, Baz. You’re never going to be stuck or trapped and you can go to as many parties you want. I promise, okay?”
Baz was trying his best to look blank, but Simon saw the way his bottom lip quivered. “It’s fine, Simon. It was years ago.”
“Stop.” Baz’s brow pulled together. Simon scooted closer. He put a hand over his Baz’s, and Baz didn’t flinch at all. “Stop pretending you’re alright. It was horrific, what you’re going through is horrific. So it’s...it’s okay that you’re not. Whatever you’re feeling is okay.”
Baz’s mouth fell open slightly. His eyes were impossibly wide. He looked down at Simon’s hand over his. He flipped his over, weaving their fingers together. Baz’s calluses pressed into Simon’s skin. It felt so good.
“You’re right. I’m not okay,” he said quietly, voice breaking a bit. Simon knew how hard it was for him to say it. “But, I’m better when you’re around.”
Simon’s breath was suddenly short, like it had been a lot tonight. Baz looked up again, but his eyes weren’t on Simon’s. Rather, they were focused on the lower part of his face, specifically his mouth. Simon’s cheeks were on fire now. Was Baz thinking about...that? Could he really want that? Could Simon? He’d never thought about it before with Baz. It had never even been a distant possibility in his mind. But now, Baz was clutching Simon's hand, looking at his lips, and was leaning forward. And Simon found himself leaning forward as well.
They got closer and closer. Simon’s eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of their linked fingers, how his skin felt like it was on fire everywhere Baz touched him. Baz’s soft breath on his skin. He smelled of sugar and spirits. Simon leaned in even more. This was impulsive, stupid, potentially friendship ruining. But Simon was still riding the high of the night a bit, his self control even more lax than usual. And by the Gods, he wanted this. He never knew he could want something so suddenly yet so badly. One more inch, and he would know exactly what Baz’s mouth felt like on his.
“Simon,” Baz whispered, and Simon almost shuddered.
“Baz,” he replied. He tried to close the distance, but Baz’s face had moved. Simon nearly fell face first onto the ground, just catching himself with his free hand. What the fuck? Why had Baz moved?
“Simon, the sun. The sun is coming up.”
Simon’s eyes flew open and his blood ran cold. He whipped his head around. The sky was purple and red, and seemed to soon be orange with. The sun wasn’t over the horizon just yet, but it soon would be very soon. Simon turned back to Baz, whose face was some mix between shock, horror, and bone deep fear.
“We have to go right now,” Baz said.
Simon nodded rapidly. Baz stood up, still gripping Simon’s hand, and Simon followed.
They ran through the last of the celebrations in town. Bumping into stragglers, nearly tripping over passed out people in the street. But they didn’t stop. No matter how much their feet hurt or lungs ached. The boys kept running through the buildings, through the fields, until they came to the dark woods of the Forbidden Lands. A soft glow surrounded Baz’s body, and as the sky got brighter, so did the glow. Baz threw back his scarf and mask. Simon caught them. He let go of Simon’s hand and frantically began undo his coat. Simon caught that too. He couldn’t see Baz’s face, but he could only imagine how scared he was.
Baz threw off his shirt just as they reached the edge of the hidden lake. And when the sun broke the horizon, his arms transformed into his large black feathered wings. They fanned out so wide they blocked out the sun. Simon gasped and froze in place. Baz looked like a terrifying, beautiful dark angel. He turned his head slightly. The pain in his eyes was very apparent. Simon couldn’t tell if the pain was emotional, physical, or some horrific mix of both. No matter what, it was terrible to see him like this. Baz looked away as he fell forward into the invisible lake.
Simon was frozen a long while. It took some time to collect himself. But slowly, he walked forward, picked up Baz’s shirt, and stepped into past the glamour as well. He did his best to float himself down, only stumbling slightly as he hit the ground. Baz’s trousers and boots lay in a mess on the ground. Simon threw them over his arms. When he looked up, there was Baz, floating in the lake alone, long neck lowered and face hidden by a single black wing. Simon’s heart broke.
He carefully put Baz’s costume in front of his cottage. Baz could do what he wanted with it. Simon hoped he’d keep it, because he wanted Baz to remember the good parts of the night, no matter how it ended. No matter what they missed out on. Simon picked up the cloak he left behind, and threw one last look over to Baz. Simon was still pretty sure Baz didn’t like to be acknowledged in his bird form, but the words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“I had a really good night, Baz,” he said. “I-I hope you did too. Thank you for it. I’ll be back really soon, okay?”
Baz couldn’t answer, of course. But he lifted his head out from behind his wing slightly, just enough to show one grey eye. That was answer enough. Simon nodded. He floated back out of the lake, but a part of himself was absolutely left behind.
———————————————
AN: Ah yes, my fave trope, the almost kiss that gets interrupted. And this was all fun until the very end, because I like to end with angst. Hope y'all liked it and the art. Next chapter will be posted on Thursday. See you guys then! :D
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ruckusheaven · 5 years
Text
A Coon In A Colorful Heaven: Chapter 5- “It’s All Pink on the Inside..”
Coon-  A black person who is ignorant to white discrimination and unknowingly suffers with self hatred.
This chapter continues to follow the eternal story of a man named Damien. When we last saw Damien he was taken to his family’s club by Angie. Once there he was greeted by his Uncle Craig who took him to see his Great Great Grandmother Lisa. Surprisingly enough she was one of the very few actually happy to see Damien. But as they began to speak, Damien started to explain his views on women and his preference; which started an argument about colorism and the struggles black women face. But before the conversation could be finished they noticed and were informed by Angie about Damien’s Soul Confliction. With little to no hesitation “GG” Grandma Lisa figured out the perfect way to educate Damien on colorism...Was by meeting his Great Great Grandfather Julian.
            -inside of Damien’s Family Club-
Damien: Great Great Grandfather Julian??
Damien: Why haven’t i heard of that name before?
Uncle Richard: Because he was never worth mentioning, hell we barely knew about him ourselves when we were alive.
Damien: Huh?
“GG” Grandma Lisa: *looks down* Listen Damien there’s a lot about this family that you never knew about. But to be honest how could you have?
“GG” Grandma Lisa: *looks back up at the crowd of people* Our Family did a terrible job at trying to keep our family history and connection together...
“GG” Grandma Lisa: So many stories... so many faces... I have been in Heaven for more than a century in your time and i still discover something new about this family almost everyday.
“GG” Grandma Lisa: *walks around the room* So much Pain and Love. Hatred and Compassion. Fear and Understanding. Destruction and Creativity. and Secrets... So many secrets
“GG” Grandma Lisa: *looks back at Damien* In due time you will see for yourself what i mean, I promise you that. But first we need to deal with your little Soul Confliction issue
*A Bright Light Crashes Down, Leaving behind Aunt Tanya and “GG” Grandfather Julian*
“GG” Grandfather Julian: WHAT UP FAMILY!!
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“GG” Grandma Lisa: Speaking of which, perfect timing.
Aunt Tanya: You know... That beam is damn near instantaneous and i swear it felt like we were in there for hours. He just keeps talking.
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Girl hush, i made that ride entertaining!!
Aunt Tanya: More like annoying... 
“GG” Grandma Lisa: *Walks towards Julian with open arms and a smile* Hi Julian
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Oh my God Lisa *Hugs Lisa* *holds Lisa waist while staring into her eyes* Every time i see you it’s like it for the first time all over again
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Oh Julian..
Uncle Craig: Oh God
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Aunt Tanya: You know for a couple that’s separated, y’all sure don’t act like it
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Heaven is place of forgiveness Tanya, you know that. I have no hate in my heart for this man, there’s no point in it.
Aunt Tanya: I can think of few but those would all be considered “Preferences” 
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now Tanya i know you was slow in the head but i would think that me admitting 100 times that i was wrong would eventually stick in your brain   
“GG” Grandfather Julian:  I thought something would finally stick in you
Aunt Tanya: You son of a-
“GG” Grandma Lisa: ENOUGH!! from the both of you. Acting like damn fools for no reason
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Apologize both of you
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now why i gotta apologize she the one that started-
“GG” Grandma Lisa: *grips Julian’s hand hard* I said apologize 
“GG” Grandfather Julian: 
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“GG” Grandfather Julian: I deeply and sincerely apologize Tanya, i was way out of line
Aunt Tanya: Mhmm i’m sorry too
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Good. now you two can fight it out some other time, but right now we need to help my Grand Baby fix his Soul Confliction
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Right right, Tanya said that’s why ya needed me. So where lil man at *looks around the room*
Damien: *stands up sticking his hand out* You mean grown man Grandpa
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Well right you are *shakes Damien’s hand* good to see ya boy, good to see ya!
Damien: *smirks* Good to see you too Grandpa
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy did anyone every tell you, that you look just like your Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great x53 Grandfather Musa Keita??
Damien: Ummm.. no
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy you gotta sit down and meet that man one day. He was doin his thang in the b.c time, boy you wouldn’t believe!
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Listen here man we come from Kings! you hear me, real Kings!
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Now Julian i’m sure Damien would love to meet and hear all about our history but we have more *cough cough* pressing issues to go over..
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Right Right my bad. So what seems to be the problem *grabs a chair and sits in front of Damien*
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Well our Grandson here seems to think that Light Skin women are better than Dark Skin women
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Ok ok....... see now i said what’s the problem, this right here just sounds like a preference
Aunt Tanya: Here we go
Uncle Richard: Is everything always a joke to you Julian?
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy the only joke here is you. You the only negro i know that still needs glasses in Heaven.
“GG” Grandfather Julian:  Heaven can fix and heal everything, and i mean EEEVRRRYYTHING..... but 20/70 vision. Ain’t that bouta bitch.
Uncle Craig: Should I throw him out now or after the ass kicking?
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now don’t you touch me Craig!! *stands up*
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“GG” Grandfather Julian: Last time you touched me, i had to soak in a realm made of lotion for weeks just to get your ash off of me
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Julian..  
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“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now Lisa you know im just messing around with everyone. Everyone is so uptight today.
“GG” Grandma Lisa: For a very good reason
“GG” Grandfather Julian: You right, You’re absolutely right.. I apologize
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Ok lemme start this over
“GG” Grandfather Julian: *grabs Damien by the collar* Aye little nigga whats wrong with you and not liking Dark Skin Women!? Ain’t Ya Momma as black as November 23rd!!
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Damien: *in shock* what the hell!
“GG” Grandma Lisa: JULIAN!!
“GG” Grandfather Julian: What?... This is what i did last time..
“GG” Grandma Lisa: Can you take it down a few notches and act like this is your Grandson and not some random thug that’s trying to fight you..
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“GG” Grandfather Julian: *sigh* ok my bad, my bad
“GG” Grandfather Julian: *fixes Damien’s shirt* sorry about that man *sits back down*
Damien: *catching his breath* what the hell is wrong with this family!
“GG” Grandfather Julian: A lot more than we have the time to discussion right now. So can you please sit
Damien: *Takes a deep breath* whatever man *sits back down*
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Alright look man, that whole light skin is a preference and all that nonsense is some bull shit.
Damien: Once again how can you or anyone tell me what like is wrong, I was never attracted to dark skin tones, that’s just who i am
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy ain’t nobody born hating or disliking an entire color. That shit ain’t genetic, as you can see you come from some dark moutherfukas and we love ALL shades of chocolate *stretches his arms out*
The Crowd of Family: Amen to that! I know that’s Right! You ain’t neva lied!
“GG” Grandfather Julian: See
Damien: I get that’s how y’all are, but that’s not me. Why can’t y’all accept that i’m different.
Damien: Im not saying that i hate Dark Skin women or anything like that. I just choose to not be around them, they’re a mess for the most part.
The Crowd of Family: *gasp*. No this nigga didn’t...
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now Now everyone let’s relax. Before we jump in his ass lets see where he’s coming from. Go ahead and explain yourself
Damien: Ok look, all my life i have seen nothing but ratchetness and ghetto shit from Dark Skin women.
Damien: From Tv, Movies and my encounters with them, they’re always loud, obnoxious, always ready to fight someone, always wearing weaves and wigs, always trying to live off someone else and just all around one note.
“GG” Grandfather Julian:
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“GG” Grandfather Julian: Now i have heard some shit in my day, but boy i have never heard someone so passionately explain they’re ideology based around assumptions, one sided opinions and shit they saw on tv..
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Oh wait yes i have.. From racist white men and women that never had a conversation nor would even want to with a black man or woman.
Damien: Huh?
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Boy, do you know that what you just said is eerily similar to what white people have said about black folks for years?
“GG” Grandfather Julian: “ they’re always loud, obnoxious, always ready to fight someone, Violent, Always dependent on welfare, uncivilized, thugs” etc etc or as you say “one note”
Damien: Yea but that’s just white people being racist
“GG” Grandfather Julian: Negro where do you think colorism started!
“GG” Grandfather Julian: For hundreds of years your great female ancestors were raped and used as cattle, play things and servants. Then once these women had these kids that came out lighter then them, not only were they separated from their kids but they were also told to treat them as superior.
“GG” Grandfather Julian: That was one of their greatest schemes to slowly break us apart. Treating some of our own blood as superiors or servants so that those kids would eventually see Darker skin as beneath them. It was a way for white people to make them seem even more powerful just because of their skin; while also creating a form of control that made their job easier.
Damien: This all sounds like some white man conspiracy bull shit.
???: I’m afraid it’s not *walks trough the crowd and stands next to Julian*
Damien: Who are you?
???: Hello my name is Claudia one of your great cousins. I was born a slave in 1720..and i think my story could help shed some truth on what Julian is saying.
Damien: What, you’re going to tell me more stories? Listen Claudia, no disrespect but i don’t have the time for any long winded storytelling 
Claudia: Oh i won’t be telling the story, I will show you it..
Damien: What are you talkin-
*Claudia places both of her hands on Damien’s head, taking both of them to huge forest*
Damien: *in shock* what the... where the hell are we
Claudia: We’re in my Memory Realm.
Claudia: In this realm i will show you a brief glimpse of my life and the story i wish to show you 
Damien: What are you talking about?
Claudia: *sticks her hand out pointing in a direction*
Damien: *confusedly walks to where Claudia is pointing*
*After pushing his way through a huge bush, Damien looks on in shack and awe*
Damien: *takes a deep gasp* where... where are we exactly
Claudia: We’re in the 1720′s, in Alabama on the plantation i was born
Claudia: Welcome to my Life and now see my Story..
THE END OF CHAPTER 5
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thekrazykeke · 6 years
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I love this man. To be honest, I’ma hoe for all of them men in Black Panther, so it’s whatever. Every single one of them can get it, and I don’t even know who I want to take me first, Erik or T’Challa? ....Hm, both. Both is good. This chapter is potentially, likely, triggering for some people. Please read this with caution and know that my inbox and IM is always open, for anyone, at any time. 
You’re not bothering me. Never think you are bothering me.
Continued from here, boo.
The minute the apartment door swung open, your eyes snap to Nadia’s face, and you see it, the bruise the size of a fist swelling up her right eye. 
“Where is he?” 
“Let’s talk inside.” Nadia’s hand on yours is firm as she tugged you in, using her hair to shield the bruise from view; the motion too familiar, practiced. The organ in your chest throbbed with pain and you think you’re about to have a panic attack or something. 
"Where is that nigga, is he here?” Your hands clench then unclench, and you can’t focus on one thing, eyes darting around the room, categorizing how the living room is trashed; broken glass shards sprinkled everywhere, TV broken, a hole or two punched in the walls. 
It’s a mess. 
“Calm down, Y/N.” Nadia says, voice entirely too calm, nonchalant.
“Is. That. Nigga. Here?” You enunciate each word forcefully, eyes widened and crazed, angry. 
“He not here. Simmer down already, shit.” Exhausted already by the conversation, she flopped down on the couch. “I called you because I needed your advice.”
“Waterboard that no good ass nigga.” You immediately suggest, taking a seat beside her.
“What, no. That’s,” she laughs, “That’s crazy. Y/N, stop it. Be serious.” 
You aren’t laughing. “I’m deadass. I know somebody who know somebody. They’ll snatch that bitch nigga up off the street, rough his punk ass up, and--”
Nadia couldn’t listen anymore. “I’m the one who started it by spitting in his face!”
“...The fuck. Why would you do that?” Almost always joking, Nadia wasn’t somebody who deliberately provoked people, or at least, she didn’t start something she couldn’t slick-talk her way out of. “Spitting on people is nasty, yo.”
“He dared me to do it. And I was just...” Sighing explosively, she ran her fingers through her hair. “...I found a pregnancy test in the bathroom trash, and I know it ain’t yours. You barely here, for one, and I can’t see you or Erik being that careless.” 
And you had an IUD, but still. Making a motion for her to continue, "So the muthafucka got his side bitch pregnant, and you got pissed.”
For the next half hour, you listen to her with a sympathetic ear as she told you that for a long time, things had been rocky between Travis and herself. He had not intentions of settling down -- with her, though he loved to lead her on with a carrot-stick maneuver and saying he might, he might, he might, while fucking around on her. He knew about the hookup she’d had with Erik and all the other times, with other people, while they’d been on a break. According to Nadia, the guy even made fun of her naivety in thinking he’d marry ‘a woman whose legs were always wide open’. The hypocritical dipshit.
That’s why she spat on him. 
Couldn’t really blame her for that, not really. 
“The girl he got pregnant, she’s only twenty one, Y/N. Twenty one...”, Shaking her head, Nadia laughed. 
“Hey, hey, hey.” As tears stung her eyelashes and her voice wobbled, you reached out, pulling her towards you for a half hug. “It’s okay. Fuck that dude, aigh’t? I know people say it all the time, but you are going to find someone and be happy.”
“You don’t know that.” 
“I do. You are a phenomenal woman and someone is going to recognize you for your worth. Don’t let some idiot take that away from you. You hear me?” Hot tears warmed your shirt and you rocked her gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise.” 
“I ain’t got nobody no more...” 
“It’s okay...”
Honestly, after that whole experience, you were drained. The thought of going out and being sociable, it made the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. Nadia wasn’t hearing that though. 
“B i t c h! This is an important milestone in your relationship. Meeting a family member?” Shaking her head, an ice pack over the swollen area, she gave you a thumbs up and painfully sincere smile, “Girl, if I was you, I wouldn’t have even brought my thick ass over here to deal with my bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit, Nadia.” You interjected, for the fiftieth time. “You my friend and you needed me. Case closed.”
“Whatever. I’m good. I’m gonna sit here and try and figure out who I can pay off to try and fix these damages before the landlord see this shit.” Tilting her head back, she sank more comfortably into the couch. “Forreal, you should go. See what’s good wit Erik and this mystery family member, actually find out what Erik does for a living. I’m betting it’s something physical. His arms hella strong.”
“Bitch.” You elbow her gently.
“What? I’ma single pringle now, so I can look,” Nadia said defensively. “It’s not like he would notice me anyway. The nigga got eyes for you only. It’s cute as fuck, keeping it one hunned.” Although you didn’t want to leave Nadia alone, she took your cellphone and texted Erik to come get you. 
When he came to pick you up, she all but shoved you out the door. 
“You still gon do this wit me, right? Meeting my cuz?” Erik could tell what was up immediately. “I can reschedule, it ain’t nothing.”
And he would, you realized, he cared for your personal comfort more than what his cousin would think. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hands finding the nape of his neck, you tilt your head up and he took the hint, kissing you. “You don’t have to reschedule. So, where is this dinner taking place?” 
Turns out that it’s the Queen’s Cove, the most expensive hotel in the area. Some of the most important political figures and celebrities stayed there. Fuck, even Obama and Michelle had spent two nights there! You were internally spazzing out, mind going one hundred miles an hour, wondering exactly who Erik’s cousin was, who Erik was--
‘I’ll find out tonight. To-night. OMG. That’s not enough time! Holy fucking shit! Oh. mah. Gawd. Chill, Y/N. Just. chill.’ 
Calling up every ounce of zen in your body that you had, you manage to smile at Erik who’s eyeing you warily, probably catching the goofy, weird expressions you’d made while wigging out. 
"Clothes, we both need new clothes.” You say decisively. 
“I don’t really--”
“Nigga, bring ya ass on!”
“Aigh’t already, damn!”
After an exhausting rest of the afternoon spent looking for the perfect outfit, Erik dropped you off at your favorite salon to get your hair and nails done. It was a last minute walk in appointment and Chantay wasn’t the happiest seeing you -- until she saw the amount of money you were paying her. While she worked her magic, you and Breanna texted back and forth, with y’all going through potential jobs and reasons for all this mystery and secrecy that Erik was doing. 
Bre also promised that she would send Dre to put Travis in check asap. Then the topic changed once again when she sent you the link to an article about the Wakandan king, T’Challa. 
Apparently he was slated for a press conference tomorrow morning?
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‘She so dumb, but I love her silly ass.’ Smiling faintly, you replied that yes, the king was pretty fione, but he was a little too lean for your tastes. You ain’t want a man that didn’t know how to handle all your thickness. You cracked up laughing when she sent you a poop emoji, murmuring an apology when Chantay told you to keep still.
Once that appointment is concluded, the two of y’all took note of the limo waiting outside. 
The. Limo.
GSLKDHFSKFLJSD!!!
“Y/N?” Neither of y’all utter a word. So he tries again, “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you, ma’am?” The driver asked, professional and relaxed, unruffled, by the fact that he’s being gaped at.
“That’s me.” You reply weakly. He opened the door for you. 
“I got the license plate number in case you go missing.” Chantay whispered out the corner of her mouth. Placing a hand over your heart, you throw up a peace sign and she waved, removing a cigarette from behind her ear and lit it. 
Question after question flew through your brain. You wanted to touch everything but at the same time, it was important to show some class. He drops you off at the apartment where you quickly shower, moisturize, and change (Nadia is gone but where you don’t know and have no time to find out), and when you come back out, the few people lingering around eye you with appreciation, curiousity and lust. 
The drive to the Queen’s Cove is completely silent but you don’t care. This feels like some straight up black Cinderella-out-the-hood type stuff. 
The next time the car pulls to a stop and the door opens, it’s Erik who’s reaching a hand out to you. Without hesitation, you take his hand and he helps you out of the limo, appraising you with hungry eyes. Although your inner mantra is that you’re in public and this is indecent, especially for a place this fancy, you give him a once over too. 
“Damn baby, you lookin’ like a whole snack.” 
Cracking a smile, because regardless, Erik gon be Erik, you let him kiss the corner of your mouth, so close to your lips. “Mmhm, you look handsome too, baby. Let’s go meet your cousin.”
“You right, you right.” There’s a distracted air about him and he can’t stop looking at you. 
Admittedly, that swells your ego. That floaty feeling carries you through what might have been an epic freak out and meltdown because again, there were celebrities and politicians milling about, everything looked expensive. 
Fuck, even the air smelled rich!
The maitre d’ led y’all to a private booth/sitting area in the far back, not easily noticed by other people. And there, already seated... Is the King of Wakanda. T’Challa Udaku. 
“Cousin! There’s bobotie on the menu!” Eyebrows raising, you glanced at Erik pointedly, but he merely pulled out the chair for you. The whole ass king, T’Challa, put down the menu only to smile at you brightly, “Oh! I am so rude. Hello. You are Erik’s woman, yes?”
“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” You said primly, about to raise up and possibly mangle an attempt at a curtsey, but Erik’s hand on the nape of your neck keeps you seated, the gesture effortlessly casual, but intimate.
“Please, there are no need for titles. Did you not tell her that, cousin?” Erik sat down too. “...Oh, Bast, he did not tell you that.” T’Challa, the king of an African nation, frowned. “N’Jadaka...”
“N-who?” Your brows furrowed.
T’Challa sighed and Erik eyeballed him, expression annoyed. “Bruh, don’t come at me like that! What with yo bitch ass Council putting that gag order on a nigga, what could I tell her but the kiddy shit?”
“Um...” You try to speak up.
“The conference is tomorrow, cousin. You could have informed her at least two weeks in advance.”
“You think I’m slow or some shit? Like I can’t read, muthafucka? Of course I know it’s tomorrow! I brought her down her to meet yo cornball ass, but we can bounce if you gon be on some other--”
THUMP! 
Slamming your fist into the table, ignoring the throbbing pain searing through the appendage, you glared at them both. “If both y’all grown ass men don’t start actin’ like y’all mofos got some sense and recognize we in public, right now...” You say through gritted teeth. 
“Sorry, baby.” Erik mumbled.
“My apologies, Y/N.” 
After that, the tension faded away. The dinner felt relaxed and normal, like you were eating out with ya man and another brother or something. During that dinner though, Erik explained that he was a prince, third in line for the throne to Wakanda. The two of them made some questionable quips and remarks that bordered on being too dark, and you were most certainly going to be talking to Erik about that later. 
Erik, that wasn’t even his real name. 
It’s N’Jadaka Udaku. 
There’s something beautiful about the way the vowels rolled off your tongue and N’Jadaka, likes when you use it. Oh, yeah, he definitely liked the way you say his name, if his hand on your thigh underneath the table is any indication, the slow circles he’s rubbing into the satin smooth brown skin, teasing you. 
“Hi! I’m Mitchell and this is Cassandra, and we--”
Oh. No.
It feels like the bottom of your stomach has fallen out. You are half afraid to even look up and see if they’re as close as you fear, but when you flick your eyes to the right, yes. Yes they are, right here.
Waiters. 
Ha! 
Right now, they’re pestering T’Challa, asking if he wants a refill of his drink, and you glance at ya man, trying to non-verbally signal to him that we had to get the fuck outta dodge before they noticed us. And either he was just horny or he got the message, probably the former, but he was about to get up when Cassandra turned and finally noticed us.
Shit!
“Y/N! Hi! Oh, goodness. This is such a coincidence, running into you and your beau again. I told Mitchell that I saw you at my other job and he didn’t believe me at all.” 
Somehow, you manage to smile, “Such a...small world.” 
There’s a pregnant pause. “Erik! Hi, hello!” Again, she offered her hand for a shake.
He ignored her outstretched hand. “This is a private dinner. Family only.”
Mitchell snorted, his handsome features twisting into a sneer. “Family? Y/N? No way. I grew up with the girl, that’s straight ghetto--”
Cassandra elbowed her hubby abruptly. “Honey.”
“Nah, let him finish his sentence.” Erik took a swallow of wine, finishing off the glass. “‘Straight ghetto’, what?”
“I was going to say that Y/N and her family are an...unscrupulous bunch.” Lying through his teeth, Mitchell plastered a smile onto his lips, though his eyes are bitter, cruel. Jealous. “It’s very unfit for her to be sitting next to, and dining with, royalty.” 
T’Challa raised a finger, “Forgive me for sounding uncultured in this. English is not my first language and I have not been to America often,” It’s clear, if only to you and Erik, that he’s downplaying his own intellect, he’d talked circles around you about a lot of topics and explained things without making you feel stupid. “But I believe you are insulting not only myself, and by extension, all of Wakanda, you are also insulting my own cousin, a prince, and his choice of female companion? Y/N is quite a lovely and intelligent, funny, woman, after all.”
“I agree! I so agree!” Cassandra nodded her head vigorously. “Y/N and I, we were friends once upon a time ago in college.”
Unable to stand all this double talking and hypocrisy, your mouth opened, “Bitch, when?” You sounded so done at the moment. “Is it after you caught a case of jungle fever and decided that you were finished fucking Tim, who went on to become a famous country singer by the way, and chose this light bright nigga to be your Negro husband? I bet you were very disappointed that the rumor of all black men having big dicks isn’t true.”
Cassandra paled, standing there, gaping at you. Mitchell, however, absolutely exploded. “You ghetto ass dirty hoodrat bi--”
One right hook and an uppercut and Mitchell hit the floor with a pained grunt. Erik put his foot on his chest, keeping him in place. “I’m from Oakland, California, straight up out the hood, my nigga. Erik Stevens, ask about me.” Grinding his heel into his chest for a few more seconds, he stepped over him, “Let’s get the fuck up outta here.” 
“Yoink.” You grab the bottle of wine, patting Cassandra’s shoulder ‘comfortingly’. “I’ll just take this for the road. Since we such good friends, you got me, right? Right. I’ll holla at you on Facebook, boo boo.” With a wave of your fingers, you accept Erik’s hand, smiling big and pretty, especially when he adjusted his grip so that his arm is around your waist, headed for the exit. 
“Bill me for any damages, yes?” Smiling a camera ready smile, T’Challa dipped his head in farewell to Cassandra, accidentally stepping on Mitchell’s hand and followed after his wayward cousin and date. 
Once y’all are outside, embarrassment overtakes you and you’re about to apologize to T’Challa but he only wagged a finger and smiled. “It was very good fun tonight. I almost thought you were too timid for my cousin but you have such a vibrant personality, Y/N.”
You look at the ground then away from him, unable to keep eye contact at the sincerity in his tone. “Careful, nigga, or you and me gon go round three for you flirting with my girl.” Erik joked, tilting your chin up a little to kiss your forehead.
T’Challa shook his head and chuckled, “Take care of each other and stay out of trouble, eh.”  
Then y’all go y’all’s separate ways. Erik and you get in the limo, while a fierce, bald lady opens the door to a sleek sports car, and T’Challa gets in that. Both vehicles take off in opposite directions. You reach for Erik’s hand and he holds your hand in his lap, his thumb tracing circles around the pulse point, a pensive expression on his face. You want to know what’s up but you also are afraid to know what’s bothering him, secretly figuring that it’s you and the drama that follows you around like a bad smell. 
When the limo drops y’all off at his crib, he immediately strips of the outfit, carelessly dropping the items of clothing onto the floor and elsewhere, motions agitated. You follow after him silently, carefully following his lead. The two of you shower together but he doesn’t touch you, or make any lewd comments. He gives you some clothes to sleep in and you think that y’all aren’t going to talk about the elephant in the room when he turns his back to you, and reluctantly, you turn so that you’re facing away from him too.
Only twenty minutes of this and you think you’re going crazy. 
You’re about to get the fuck outta dodge when he speaks, “I need...I need to tell you somethin’.” Heart sinking in your chest, you try to turn around but he holds you in place, apparently not wanting you to look at him while he tells you...whatever he needs to tell you. 
Pretty sure you were prepared for anything than what he told you about his life before he and you started sleeping together and became a couple. The uncensored version of who Erik Steven is...or rather, who he had been. 
Killmonger.
All of it. 
You’d like to think you were a tough as nails type of bitch, but that story had you crying hard as shit. Whether for N’Jobu, N’Jadaka, or T’Challa and his father. Or Erik’s victims...it’s a mystery. 
You just hurt.
“I couldn’t...couldn’t keep hiding what I done. I mean, I could, but tonight, if anything, proved that all that shit tends to come out one way or the other. And I wanted you to hear it from me, not nobody else.” He swallowed. “I ain’t gon be mad or, or, stop you if you choose to leave me. I understand.” 
The next time you attempted to turn around, he didn’t stop you. Legs on either side of his chest, hands resting on his abdomen, you stared down at him with red and puffy eyes. “If I got up right now to leave, would you choke me out, smack me, or shoot me in the head?”
He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, eyes suspiciously bright, “No.”
“Do you have any plans to cheat on me?”
“Fuck no.” 
“Couples fight, they argue. That shit is normal. I might get mad and say some hurtful things, or you might be the one to do all that. We might yell at each other. That is normal. What I won’t accept is being made into Boo-Boo the Fool when you get mad and feel you have to prove what a man you are, then cheat on me with another bitch. 
I won’t be your punching bag or doormat. I am your woman, more than that, I’m somebody daughter, they sister. 
I’ve got too much respect for myself to let any of that foolishness go on. I will drop yo ass wit the quickness and cross the street to avoid speaking to you for years, if necessary.” Pausing, you take a breath, letting your words sink in. 
“Do you understand?”
Erik’s cautiously rests his hands on your hips. “I understand that, and I respect it. But I’m asking you to please, don’t throw that shit I told you in my face if you get mad. Ion care bout nun else but don’t do me dirty like that, Y/N. I’m tryin’ my best, baby girl.”
Baby girl. Oooh fuck, that nickname did things to you. You needed to get your hormones under control, bih, this is a serious moment! “’Kay.” You say, voice quiet, and you bite your bottom lip. 
He seemed to sense the turn in your attitude because he soon leaned up and kissed you open mouthed and nasty, squeezing your ass cheeks, the boy shorts you wore offering little to no protection from Erik’s groping hands, “You gon let me fuck you now, ain’tchu, baby girl?” 
Oh, this bastard. Moaning yessssss, you don’t resist when he yanks off the shirt you wore, accidentally tearing it a little before flinging it away, then yanked off the booty shorts, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his cock, teasing your wet pussy folds before pushing in alllll the way inside you. 
“You mines, you my baby girl, you gon stay wit me.” The words are quietly delivered every time he fucks up into you, and your eyes screw shut, breaths coming quick. “Say it.” A particularly hard roll of his hips punches the breath out of you, “I can stay like this all night.” 
And you know he can, he would, tease you, the both of you, until he gets what he wants. “I’m yours, your baby g-girl,” Erik sucked at your throat, intent on leaving a hickie. “I’m not gon leave you.”
It’s like your words flipped a switch or something because he’s switching positions so that you’re beneath him and he’s fucking you nice and slow. Then again, this doesn’t really feel like fucking. It’s not rough or quick, with spankings or some choking. Whatever it is, it’s intense, and the way he’s looking at you, the way he kisses your shoulder, murmuring how good your pussy feels, and other sweet, perverse things, eventually sends you over the edge. You don’t deny it when he mutters, “You my baby girl...” Right in your ear just before he pushes inside you as far as he can go, filling you with his cum. 
After all, it’s not like he’s wrong; you are his. 
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