#(especially since he got it far worst than most new officers)

[fishymedic]

Do you think people regretted allowing Steb & Maddie to be partners- (the spy stuff, his whole you can't make me Be an enforcer stuff aside) Like the realization they can't overwork her like they do most fresh faces because no way would Steb permit that to be the case. Like she could choose to do but he's so on top of breaks, proper shift rotation hours etc.

He's so quick to not allow for power tripping reprimands/to take them on instead, take on the paperwork & proof checking reports etc after all. Plus... His number one thing, "We can work together but only if you don't grind yourself down to dust." Framed as just good practice like a lot of stuff but it's also just Caring. Once they become more friends it's an fair amount of 'oh no those two are thick as thieves'.

[liskantope]

I of course agree about disliking this thing where people go "X political opponent of mine is weird and awkward, haha", including when it comes from Democrats. In addition to it simply being ableist and hurtful to people who have struggled with social skills - I'm certainly no fan of J. D. Vance, and I imagine you aren't either. But I think there are lots of very intelligent, thoughtful people who would make great policy decisions but aren't especially socially charismatic. (1/2)

(2/2) I really don't think it's a good idea for liberals to reinforce a norm that such people should be disqualified from office.

(This is regarding this post from 10 days ago -- I've been really busy with the new academic semester and so am struggling to find time and the right mindspace to respond to stuff on Tumblr.)

You're right that I'm no fan of Vance: his book that made him famous might have some merits for all I know (I haven't read it), but at least since then he seems to be a completely phony chameleon, and, worst of all, he's chosen to run on a ticket with Trump, which is pretty automatically disqualifying for my respect. That, and all his vitriol towards childless people and cat ladies and so on is much worse than any of the specific examples of ableist undertones I see from the other side.

I'll also say that all the ridicule of Walz's son for standing up and tearfully shouting "That's my dad!" a bit non-neurotypically after Walz's words of love for his children (ugh! God forbid! actual exemplary family values are just dumb and cringey, at least if they come from Democrats!) made me far angrier than any kind of ableism that would come from David Pakman. The only reason I didn't go on a rant about it here is that I already got it out of my system on Facebook. And there's plenty of other garbage coming from the Trump/Vance side about Harris laughing a little strangely (supposedly? her laugh seems pretty normal to me) which makes her intolerable and so forth.

Still, two wrongs don't make a right.

And anyway, I agree that social skills shouldn't be considered such a huge factor in what makes for a qualified politician -- it does need to be somewhat of a factor, but I wish we didn't live in a world where most public support for politicians is based on vibes and most vibes come from superficial mannerisms. It wasn't true 150 years ago and is an unfortunate product of our modern technological world.

Also, if Pakman and his ilk want to point out that Vance was very awkward in the donut shop by typical politician standards and this doesn't bode too well for him because that's how politics works, I wouldn't really have a problem with that. (That's essentially the treatment they gave deSantis.) It's the "ha ha ha, nyah nyah nyah" -flavored mockery, which comes across as being independent of the context of politicians being held to extremely high standards of charisma, that gets to me.

I also might as well mention (though this is less in response to your ask) that this came somewhat in the wake of an earlier Pakman clip that I mentioned in the other post that I was even more annoyed by, didn't bother to post about it at the time, but I just recovered it. Seriously, Pakman, in an uncharacteristically halting way, says the following in anticipation of showing Vance issuing a few kind of evasive and sub-par answers at an event and being a little awkward by politician standards but still less awkward than most ordinary people in their everyday lives:

The only -- uh -- how can I even say this?... The only people I know personally who are this uncharismatic-seeming... Man, it's just so hard to say this without sounding so offensive. There's, like, some explanation, um, that sometimes is... medical in nature... uh, it just sounds so horrible to say... I-I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's... it's a personality that he seems to have that is really an edge case. It's a fringe personality of some way to be this unappealing as a person, some traits of which sometimes connect to medical explanations -- I don't believe they do with JD Vance -- I think he's just really a horrible person, is what I'm trying to say. I hope I'm being kinda like sensitive and not offending anybody.

He can worry as much as he wants about coming across ableist, but, well, what he says is still what he says.

[bri-to-the-future]

We all know the original screenplay for BTTF 2 where Biff gave the almanac to himself in 1967 instead of 1955, right? Well, I thought since everyone has been making such lovely stuck in the (insert time period here) AUs, it’d be nice if someone made a…

*drumroll*

Stuck in the 60s AU!

(All credit to PotatoLord’s Picrew!)

It’s just some vague ideas right now, but i love the concept and im definitely gonna flesh it out more once Spaceman from Pluto is finished!

Here’s what i’ve got so far…

80s Doc gets arrested in Hell Valley and insists that he’ll be fine and that Marty needs to go to the 60s and get the almanac

Marty is able to get it after some difficulty (same as in screenplay) and burns it, not willing to take it with him when Doc is at risk

He still gets stop by a police officer, still doesnt have a draft card or id to prove hes a minor, and still gets arrested

He asks Goldie to put out that his name is Marty Klein and that he’s been arrested, knowing that Doc from the 60s still lives in Hill Valley as an inventor

Doc shows up with bail for him and he looks way different than Marty expected. Also, apparently hes a chemistry professor at Hill Valley Community College, which is news to Marty

He gives him a lift to the barn where the Delorean is parked, Marty giving an extremely vague (at Doc’s insistence) explanation on why he’s there on the way, but when they get there they’re both horrified to find that the Delorean is absolutely totalled ((with no 80s Doc to scare the Peabodys away, they didn’t stop at just shooting Mr Fusion and went ham on the car, rendering it completely useless, but thankfully managing to leave the Flux Capacitor in tact))

Doc says he should be able to fix most of the damage but that it will take a while, a good few months at the very least but worst case scenario Marty could be there for a year or two, and there’s no way he’ll be able to fix the futuristic device on the back (Mr Fusion) so once it is fixed they’ll need a new plan to get the 1.21 gigawatts of power, especially since the lightning strike on the courthouse was an isolated incident in Hill Valley’s history

Marty is devastated and spends the first week or so just moping around Doc’s garage and keeping Newton company but after nine days of that Doc insists that some fresh air will do him some good and forces him to come to the college with him

He was right, of course, and Marty finally starts to lighten up and have fun with him again afterwards

After classes are done Doc finally gets Marty to go get some era appropriate clothes with him but when they see Lorraine trying to keep track of an entirely too small Dave and Linda while George looks at ties they immediately turn around and walk into a different store

They’re only able to keep that up for another few days before Marty’s court date comes (who knew his Mom was so anti-war??) and she comes to congratulate him on his innocent verdict after Doc shows the court his (forged) birth certificate proving he’s a minor

When she asks if he’s related to the Marty Klein she knew in high school he tells her they were cousins who were named after the same ancestor and that Doc is watching him for a while but he’s not sure how long

Marty figures out pretty quickly that Doc takes LSD and honestly he’s not sure what to think about that

One day he walks into the living room and Doc is sprawled on the couch with his jacket off for once, clearly tripping his ass off, but Marty spots these bizarre brown lines running the length of his arms that look like scars but were definitely never there in the 80s and honestly he’s a little too freaked out to care whether or not Doc is entirely coherent right now he needs to know what’s going on

“Doc, Doc, what the hell are those?” “What?” “On your arms, Doc, whats that brown stuff!?” And Doc has the gall to look fucking amused! “They’re Lichtenberg figures, Marty. Surely you’ve seen me with short sleeves in the future? The stretch all the way to my shoulders.” Marty is shocked. “Of course I’ve seen you with short sleeves, hell, you’ve had to take your whole shirt off cause of chemical spills, but I’ve never seen those before!” But then a look of realisation crosses Doc’s face. “Oh, of course! They were caused when I accidentally became part of the circuit when the plug came undone that night I sent you back to the future, it makes perfect sense you haven’t had a chance to see them yet.” “They were caused by WHAT!?!?”

Cue Marty having a guilt induced panic attack and Doc having no idea what to do because he’s still mid-trip but eventually getting the hang of it. Once Marty’s calmed down he decides he’s not gonna touch the stuff anymore, not when it impairs his ability to care for Marty (and even when he leaves, what if this had been one of his students?? No, best to leave the stuff behind for good)

Ofc this means once he does fix the Delorean his plan to power it is much less dangerous and terrifying. … its still similar though. Doc will still blow up the safety inhibitor at the power plant and Marty will still hook onto high powered wires, just at the power plant rather than over the grand fucking canyon (the plan is still a work in progress & i havent decided how long it will take Doc to fix the deloreon yet)

When Marty gets back to 85 (now back to perfectly normal Lone Pine Hill Valley, thankfully) the first thing he does is find Doc and give him a massive hug, which he returns just as enthusiastically

[misfitwashere]

Friends,

I would not normally send you anything written by Karl Rove. I’ve always thought of Rove as the evil genius of the Republican Party. He worked for Richard Nixon and was senior advisor and deputy chief of staff to George W. Bush, where he became one of the architects of the Iraq War. 

But the fact that Rove wrote the following piece in today’s Wall Street Journal reveals both what the Republican establishment thinks of Trump and the civil war now brewing inside the Republican Party. I thought you might find it as interesting as I did:

***

A Catastrophic Debate for Trump

Karl Rove

Tuesday’s debate between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump was a train wreck for him, far worse than anything Team Trump could have imagined.

Ms. Harris was often on offense, leaving Mr. Trump visibly rattled as she launched rocket after rocket at him. A New York Times analysis found she spent 46% of her time on the attack while Mr. Trump devoted 29% of his time to going after her. Debates aren’t won on defense.

Ms. Harris pressed Mr. Trump on the economy, the Ukraine war, foreign policy, healthcare, the Jan. 6 attack and especially abortion, leaving him flustered and often incoherent. In return, he criticized her on border security, climate change and the Israel-Hamas war.

Mr. Trump had to know the vice president would try to get him to lose his cool. She did. She went after him on his multiple indictments. She called him “weak” and belittled him as a six-time bankrupt, spoiled inheritor of wealth. She said his former national security adviser thought him, in her words, “dangerous and unfit” for the Oval Office.

As is frequently the case with Mr. Trump, he let his emotions get the better of him. He took the bait almost every time she put it on the hook, offering a pained smile as she did. Rather than dismissing her attacks and launching his strongest counterarguments against her, Mr. Trump got furious. As her attacks continued, his voice rose. He gripped the podium more often and more firmly. He grimaced and shook his head, at times responding with wild and fanciful rhetoric. Short, deft replies and counterpunches would have been effective. He didn’t deliver them.

Mr. Trump did a terrible job at his most important task—tying her to President Biden’s failed policies. He did an even worse job prosecuting the argument that she’s a far-left politician out of sync with America’s values. The Trump campaign’s mid-debate fact-check bulletins that flooded email inboxes were far more substantive and effective than his responses at the podium.

Mr. Trump’s failure wasn’t for a lack of material. He had plenty in the Biden-Harris administration’s record to work with, especially on inflation and the crisis at the border. In one of his strongest moments, he hit hard on the botched Afghan withdrawal. Even then, he got sucked into an argument about his administration’s negotiations with the Taliban.

There was no sustained, specific indictment of her record on almost any issue. Mr. Trump offered angry responses, pursed lips and eyes darting mostly down, seldom looking at her. And what was it with his makeup that left white circles around his eyes? This was his most important opportunity to make an impression of strength and relative stability.

Both candidates made significant misstatements. Ms. Harris said her opponent “left us the worst unemployment since the Great Depression” and Mr. Trump declared inflation under Biden-Harris “probably the worst in our nation’s history.” But his false statements far outnumbered hers by my count.

Mr. Trump had a great comeback to Ms. Harris’s agenda for change. She’s had 3½ years as vice president, he said, so “why hasn’t she done it?” But that was in his closing statement. It should have been the attack he started with, continually repeated, and closed with, undercutting every new policy proposal she offered.

It matters how debating candidates carry themselves. There, it was no contest. Ms. Harris came across as calm, confident, strong and focused on the future. Mr. Trump came across as hot, angry and fixated on the past, especially his own. She mastered the split screen, projecting confidence and wordlessly undercutting him by smiling while shaking her head as he spoke.

Many undecided and swing voters will make up their minds less on any single issue than on their visceral reactions to the candidates. Ms. Harris did herself much good with that crowd Tuesday. Mr. Trump didn’t.

Even more voters wanted to learn something new and reassuring about the candidates in the debate. She provided them plenty, while he didn’t.

Trump enthusiasts will be upset that the ABC interviewers fact-checked the former president far more than they did Ms. Harris. Then again, he gave them plenty of material to work with—such as repeating the bizarre claim that Haitian migrants in Springfield, Ohio, are eating the pets of local residents. That was probably Team Trump’s lowest moment.

Will this debate have an effect? Yes, though perhaps not as much as Team Harris hopes or as much as Team Trump might fear. But there’s no putting lipstick on this pig. Mr. Trump was crushed by a woman he previously dismissed as “dumb as a rock.” Which raises the question: What does that make him?

***

[sabraeal]

Just a Second Away from Being In Love (Or Alone)

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle, who asked for any Obi POV in Wide Florida Bay-- but hopefully an obiyuki one 🤣. It actually took me a while to circle in on which one to pick; there's a few that I had my eye on earlier in the timeline, but when it came to obiyuki bits...I knew it had to be this one, which starts off a small mini-arc in the established relationship part of this fic!

It takes him two hours and two pounds of eggplant, but after five minutes of this newest crisis of morale, Obi finally gives in: he going have to use his Phone A Friend for this one. Or at least someone friendly. Ish.

“Tell me this is gonna be worth it,” he huffs, contorted into nature’s worst pretzel shape; his newest attempt to locate anything that could pass for another pie plate in this place. No way Doc’s lived here for three years without putting at least five of the most grandma-worthy vessels for piping-hot fruit somewhere in the cabinets. “Tell me this is gonna be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth my whole life. A fucking paradigm shift when it comes to food.”

“It’s eggplant parmesan. You’re gonna wish it was chicken.” Kelly Ann clucks her tongue, and god, she can be a thousand miles away, but he knows she’s got a knee balanced up on her desk, head tipped back because her eyes can’t roll far enough. “But you just spend half an afternoon drying the most finicky vegetable known to man, so you can’t turn back now. You’re committed.”

That’s the sort of talk that would have given him a life-threatening case of the hives years ago, limping around Atlanta’s unforgiving streets looking for an Urgent Care more quickly than taking a jab to the gut. But now he just asks, “But she’ll like it though, right?”

Kelly Ann sighs, already sick of him. “Yes. The poor innocent you’ve tricked into thinking you’re boyfriend material will think it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten. Even Cal’s officer buddies eat it, and they’re more picky than the four-year-old.”

“I dunno,” he hums, hand-pulverized breadcrumb scattering over sea foam ceramic. “She cooks really good. Have I told you about the Cornish hens? They—”

“I have heard all about the Cornish hens. I am sick of hearing about the Cornish hens.” Obi’s mouth twitches. Gotta be hard for her, having to share the pedestal for Gayle’s Favorite Child. At least with someone who isn’t her own kid. “What kind of guarantees are you look for here? That it’s going to get you laid? It will definitely get you laid.”

“Kelly Ann.” If his hands weren’t covered in egg, he’d be pressing one to his chest, scandalized. “I wasn’t— I’m not doing this for sex.”

She snorts. Which, frankly, he’s earned. But he’s turned over a new leaf. Become a new, better man. One who knows that the most important part of a relationship isn’t what happens between the sheets.

But it certainly helps hedge your bets, especially when you’re as much of a fuck up as he is. Hell, if sex was an option, he wouldn’t be here, debating which hand he’d used for the wet ingredients and which was for the dry. Oh no, he would have been far too busy making her see shrimp colors to worry about whether eggplants stayed crispier fried or baked. But since he’d had fallen for her absolutely genius— though, as Yuzuri warned, biologically inadvisable— beach-dinner-sex seduction strategy, Doc’s on the bench for the next quarter, sexy-time wise, and he’s—

Well, he’s got to show her he’s got talents out of the bedroom too. Or, er, off the couch. And shower. Sometimes even—

Ah, well, non-flat surface based talents. Cooking’s supposed to be one of them.

At least, it would be, if his eggplant slices weren’t eating floor. “How are you supposed to even get these slippery bastards over to the tray? They just keep— fuck.”

“Just go slow,” Kelly Ann informs him with an aggravating amount of patience. “It’s not a race.”

“I am going slow,” he snaps, gingerly transferring his next slice to the rack. “There is no possible way I could be going slower. I’m going to be here for days just doing this. Years from now, archaeologists will find my body and wonder why I’m only halfway through—”

“If there was an Olympic event for complaining, you’d take gold five years running.” She can tease him as much as she like, but there’s no bite to it anymore, no sharp teeth waiting to take a nibble. No, he’s pretty sure that the stretch on her vowels means she’s smirking; the closest thing to a smile when she’s aimed in his direction. “Maybe you should be doing this for sex, it sounds like you might need—”

“You keep this up and I’ll ask Gayle when you’re thinking you’ll have round two.” His mouth is all teeth as he adds, “After all, Laila would make such a cute big sister.”

He can’t see her, but he can hear her seething on the other end of the line. “I know where you live.”

“It’s a fourteen hour drive at best and I’ve got Mom on speed dial.”

Her scowl radiates from the speaker. “Fine,” she grits out. “Guess I’ll just have to tell her we’re waiting until number two could have a playmate.”

Obi blinks down at her picture. “Huh, Toddy’s found some girl? That’s fast. He was single at—”

“I’m not talking about Toddy.”

There’s enough silence in the kitchen to make his ears ring. “…What?”

“Oh, come on, Obi,” Kelly Ann sighs, as if he’s the one being obtuse. “The only people you two were fooling at Christmas were yourselves. And now you’re spending a whole day pampering eggplant to impress her?”

“I had a day off,” he murmurs, knees suddenly as solid as his egg dredge. “And I don’t think battering and frying count as a spa day.”

Kelly Ann grunt, unconvinced. “Sure, sure, we can sit here and have you deflect all day. But when it comes down to it…you’re serious about her aren’t you?”

As a heart attack. Which would be fine, if they weren’t barely two months in to the longest relationship of his life. “I think it’s a little soon to say that, uh…”

“That you love her?” His heart beats so loud in his ears he can hardly hear her ask, “You do, don’t you? Love her?”

“Yeah.” It’s a miracle he can even speak with his mouth this dry. “Of course I do.”

“Have you said that? With your Big Boy words?”

He has to press his hands against the counter to keep them from shaking. A strategy that would go better if both of them weren’t covered in egg gunk.

“Ah, gotta go,” he gasps, already reaching for a towel. “Making a real mess of all this.”

“Obi—”

The first finger clean shoots out, cutting off the call.

“There,” he sighs. “That’s enough of that existential crisis.”

*

The eggplant’s fresh out of the oven and sauce just off the heat when the door opens with a shush, his own personal problem stumbling out into the living room, trying to toe her sandals into the tray. If he weren’t elbow deep with this casserole dish, he’d saunter out to appreciate her attempts; there’s a lot on TV nowadays, but none of it can compete with Doc nearly giving herself a concussion trying to unlatch one of those little buckles. TLC used to say you learned something new every day, and listening to her grumble approach swears without ever intersecting, Obi agrees.

“Oh, really.” Most people might be happy just to hurl abuse at inanimate objects, but not Doc. Oh no, she’s got to reason with them.  “This sort of…of…tomfoolery is very…rude. I think you should just…stop…if you would…”

He waits until the first tell-tale clatter and clunk, to call out, “Welcome home.”

“Obi!” she yelps, and oh, he might not be able to see it, but he knows that shocked look: mouth as round as her eyes, skin flushed down to where it meets the swoop of her collar. Extremely kissable, is what he’s saying. “You’re here?”

A tap of the sauce spool sends a chunk of it skittering across the stove, but he grins anyway. “Am I not supposed to be? Did you have plans? Maybe even naughty—?”

“No!” It’s more of a croak than a gasp. “No, I mean…you’re supposed to be here. I’m happy your here. You” —her voice drops, soft, like her pillows— “belong here.”

He thought he’d known all the ways a heart could ache these past few years, but when she talks like that, ah, he’d never thought it could feel this good. Or this terrifying. “You’re not denying the naughty plans thing.”

And she still doesn’t, going so quiet a guy might get suspicious, if he didn’t know— keenly— that she was still in the shop. Taking her nice places and making delicious, boyfriend-worthy dinners has been great; a bigger rush than sex in a bathroom stall. But still, when most of their nights involve staying in, settling into the couch the way they always did, just with the new, heady knowledge that they both are wanting the same things…

Well, there’s been a few inadvisable make out sessions. Exciting ones, the kind that involve hands going under shirts and down pants and wearing hoodies in eighty degree weather the next day. But every time they wandered beneath her shorts— or, more than a few personally exhilarating times, skirts— the mood swerved off the rails, ending things before they— or well, she could get anywhere. After a three-year dry spell, Obi thought a few weeks would be a breeze, a quick breather between rounds, but after a month of having her moan his name at just the simplest touch—

It’s a special kind of torture, he thinks as the other shoe drops. Especially when Doc’s never been one to behave.

“You are home early.” Doc doesn’t often get the jump on him— in shitty childhood vs playful girlfriend, there’s a clear winner every time— but this time, when her sweet voice pipes up from his elbow rather than the galley window, he does. “And cooking dinner?”

“Yeah, I, ah…” She’s always been a curious little squirrel, skittering hither and yon, but when she leans around him to catch a peek of his hard work, her breasts brush against his arm, and, well— like he said. It’s been a long time. “Haah…just needed to let some data compile for a diagram. Thought it might do better on my laptop on our internet.”

He should be playing Tetris with these eggplant pieces right now, but Doc doesn’t make it easy, not with the way she tucks herself against him, her front pressed to his side, a burning line from shoulder to hip. “Are those eggplant?”

One small hand traces a path across his belly, just below his navel, and— and Obi can read a room. Really he can. It’s just not possible that she’s putting down what he’s picking up. “Y-yeah.” He clears his throat, willing it back into an actual, grown adult’s register. “I, uh, got the recipe from Kelly Ann. She…”

Her wrist twists, just enough to dip the tip of her finger beneath his waistband, and oh god, okay, he can’t take it. “Can we talk?” he asks, desperate, one hand gripped around her wrist. “Just for a second here. Because I…I need some clarification, I think.”

Doc flusters, every visible inch of her skin red as she tries to slip from his grasp. Which is absolutely not happening, not if she’s barking up the tree he thinks she is. “S-sorry! I just…I thought…”

One tug sends her careening back into him, every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. Or well, most of them. He's got ten or so that don't quite match up “I’m not complaining about the thinking here. I’m confused about the doing, because I thought we weren’t supposed to, er…”

Do the doing isn’t really where he wants to take this sentence. “I thought,” he starts again, a shade more collected, “that you were in the shop.”

“No.” Her cheeks flush so pink he’s half tempted to bite them, just to see what she’d taste like against his tongue. “I-I mean, I was. But I went to my doctor today, and um…?”

Every muscle in his body stiffens, tense like a cat ready to pounce. “And…?”

Doc might be bold enough to throw herself out windows and into swamps full of at least three of his most deadly fears, but at the twitch of his dick against her hip, her eyes skitter back toward the counter. “A-are you at a good place to stop?”

The eggplant’s going to get floppy in the sauce, and none of it will be as good as it would be if he finished getting this in the oven now, but he can hardly care, not when she lets out a delicious little gasp as she bumps into the counter.

“What exactly did the doc clear you for?” he rumbles, leaning in to give her parted lips the barest brush. “This?”

Her fingers clench at his shoulders, as frustrated as the moan that slips from her throat. “Obi…”

There’s a warning in that, a promise for what will wait for him if he keeps up his teasing, and it only makes his next taste all the sweeter.

“This?” It’s a whisper against her lips, one lost when she swallows it whole. Those fingers yank him down, trapping him in this endless drag of lips and tongue, each one teasing out another moan, another shiver, until he’s nearly drunk from it.

One of his palms scrapes up her side; the silky material of her dress catches on his calluses before he dips beneath it, her nipple already pebbled against his palm. “This?”

His mouth drops to catch it, and oh, if he thought she’d been close before, there’s nothing but cloth between them now, her body arched to fill the curve of his. “Obi!”

She’s trembling in his grip, only the arm at her back keeping her upright, and oh, it’s nothing to trace his fingers up her thigh, to trace the edge of her panties. “This?”

His only answer is a whimper and the bite of nails at his shoulder. It’s enough; he shoves them to the side, the small hairs there tickling his palms. And when the tip of his finger slips between her folds—

“Jesus. Fuck.” His forehead rests against her shoulder. “You’re…?”

Wet. Soaked. His mouth is too dry to get out the words. He doesn’t need to, not when she nods, wiggling against his hand. “Uh-huh.”

“Hah.” He licks his lips, hoping she can’t feel how he trembles now, every part of him drawn as tight as a bowstring. “How about this?”

His fingers dip inside, two sinking straight to the last knuckle. God, he nearly cums right there, from the noise she makes. “Is this what the doc cleared you for, Shirayuki?”

She whines, a pathetic, frustrated sound. One he’d be happy to tease out of her again, if she didn’t reach down and pump his fingers into her again, like he might need the help.

“Haah,” he breathes, hard. “Yeah, I think I can help with that.”

By the way she’s moving, it won’t be enough. Not nearly enough for either of them, not with his cock straining his jeans, soaking them where it’s trapped up against the band. He grinds against her hip, trying to get some relief, pulling her even tighter against him as his fingers work, and—

“Obi,” she gasps, pushing his shoulders away. “We eat on these counters.”

He’d argue that, if they weren’t already sharing space with dinner. Instead he leans in, giving her one, long kiss as he drags his fingers out of her. “Your room or mine?”

“Whichever,” she sighs, hopping up into his arms, “is closer.”

[etherealvoidechoes]

Hollowed Defiance - Chapter 27 - A Little Crossed Pt. 1

Back-to-back operations just like the old days. XCOM heads in hot to provide the Silent Striders some assistance with evacing the Haven under siege. But they're in for a surprise.

Hey all. Thanks for your patience. Life has been busy as always besides some /other things/occurring. So a fresh new chapter, working on more for this and the other fics still. And other fandom-related fics.

Also, a minor spoiler, this chapter is pretty self-contained with everything happening at the haven, I just felt like the next one is closely connected and the title would fit it too.

Also some bonus treats and this is more related to Ao3. It will be awhile before I have everything updated on Tumblr and Ao3. I have done a lot of revisions and cleaned up the older chapters. Probably still missing some grammar mistakes but hope I found all of the worst offenders and made my writing style more consistent. AND a bonus new chapter to slot in with the old ones. "Chapter 11: Retrieval"(posted on Ao3 so far). The rescue of Mox and a more "proper" introduction for the Hunter.

--

Ao3|| FF.net || Fic Hub

------------------------

Like an ordered flock of migrating birds, ADVENT dropships zipped across the night sky. Moonlight was snuffed out by rising columns of smoke.

The chatter of ADVENT soldiers and the rhythmic fire of magnetic guns filled the area as they invaded the Terelj-based haven. Strategically ordered pods of Stun Lancers accompanied by Trooper support worked to cut off fleeing civilians and their Silent Striders guardians.

The Silent Striders had grown used to the more frequent attacks in their territory, but this was different again. Their previous harasser was more animalistic, barely held in check by the accompanying Officer, Captain, or General, as he did his own thing to collect heads and occasionally used his own men as sharpening stones if they got in his way. The platoon of accompanying ADVENT soldiers did their best to stay clear of his path and do their basic search and destroy as they cleared the Haven. It was predictable, and the Silent Striders — with adequate forces — could hold them off as they evacuated most of the people.

But with this one. There was a sound mind behind this assault. One the Silent Striders hadn’t seen in months. Rapid adaptation. Ever since XCOM did whatever — as the finer details were still sparse —  to free their Commander from the alien’s clutches and damage that Psionic Network, though ADVENT’s military tactics were still fearsome, in many ways they had become predictable and slower to adapt. But not tonight. This new leader was quickly picking up the tricks the Silent Striders liked to use and finding ways to subvert them to tighten that noose.

Near the front lines of the ADVENT forces was the newest dealer of death, fiercely pointing to the next location a pod of Stun Lancers was gleefully swarming towards. With a quick glance, one could tell this leader was different from their peers. He was a least two heads taller than the standard ADVENT soldier, besides the more customized onyx-colored armor with red highlights and dark blue underarmor. Streamlined, but heavily reinforced, would best describe his gear. It carried the hallmarks of the blocky motifs of ADVENT, yet there looked to be the smoother, organic alien armor similar to the Muton’s incorporated into his fatigues. And his right arm stood out. It was armored revealing the skin tone to be a stark silver and gunmetal gray, it didn’t exactly look like skin as portions of it looked chitinous and others looked fragmented like tree bark.

“››THERE.‹‹“ A distorted bark echoed from his fully enclosed-helmet, as he pointed in another direction.  ”››Escape route of the irritants located. Khra! Khra! Cut them off. Remember the ratios 80/20 and 60/40. The Elders need subjects alive and barely mangled.‹‹” His voice was hoarse and gravelly. “››Including the Striders. Especially, them. Their brains need to be dissected.‹‹” 

With the order given, he continued his march forward with his surrounding entourage. “››Who has sights on their leader? The Elders want her.‹‹“

With another escape route for the civilians cut off, the Striders were scrambling to redirect and keep the others hidden.

“Shit, Fayruz!” A Silent Strider scrambled through a hatch into a crumbling perch, knocking over some ammo crates. “Another route’s been cut! Time to cut and run if those XCOM c—” 

“Bite that trap shut and get your gun back on the lines. ADVENT won’t kill themselves.” Barely raising her voice, Fayruz snapped back at her subordinate. Her eyes barely shifted from her scope as she pulled on the trigger to let loose a bolt of plasma at their unwelcome invaders. “You know how we operate. You know the orders I gave. We retreat when that point has been reached.”

There were grumbles and a faint “yes, ma’am” before they resigned themselves to restocking their reserves and getting back to the fight.

She raised two fingers to her headpiece. “Longeyes, Fives, Foil.” As she spoke, she scoped the landscape to find that ADVENT leader. “Do you have a clear shot on the snake?”

“Yes.”

“Window closing for me, rifle overheating, but yes.”

“Ready to take that head off.”

All three responded.

“Good.” Fayruz tapped her teeth as she watched the leader pause in his march and bark out more orders. “Perfect. Remember, fire at the same time. See if that will overload that AI and his senses.”

“In five, Fayruz.” Longeyes said.

“Good. Move once done. Immediately. I’ll be listening.” She instructed before partially cutting her transmission. As she did so, a loud hiss made her pull away from her rifle. Lips curling into a frown, she watched the slates to the vents slide wider to allow the visible jets of white smoke out. Across the energy cells of the jury-rigged rifle was crackling with yellow-green energy.

“Tch. Reaching your limit.” She cast a glance around the room at the rest of her subordinates. Several busted jury-rigged plasma rifles were scatted on the floor, several in the perch had switched back to their old magnetic rifles. “Just like everyone else.”

She glanced around the room once again, this time to take in the current stakes. Several walls were close to crumbling away into nothing, their ammo stores were nearly empty, and a few more of her men were wounded and were being carried out.

They better be here before ADVENT reaches the mark. Fayruz flared her nose. Despite how stubborn she could be on holding onto her territory, she had a faint feeling she would have to make the call to fully soon if she wanted her faction to survive.

“Everyone, we need to leave this perch before it’s fully compromised. Head to points, M, V, Z. If those are cut off, then you must—”

“Fire!” Longeyes voice caught her attention. Eyes back to her scope, she immediately focused on the ADVENT leader.

Those familiar hums of charging plasma weaponry filled Fayruz comms before three distinctive discharges rang out. Three bolts of plasma flashed through the air from three different angles all quickly homing onto the leader’s head.

The leader almost seemed obvious to his incoming death as those bolts inched closer and closer.

Until he suddenly thrust his off-colored right arm out and then up.

“››On me!‹‹“ He barked. 

As the words left his mouth, a couple of Stun Lancers rushed to his position. As they moved, the flesh on that arm before to splinter and break before layers and layers of “bark” formed and spread out into a shield-like shape. As he raised the shelf to cover the front portion of his face, the Stun Lancers leaped behind and to the side of him, intercepting the plasma fire. 

The bolts struck; energy surged and crackled. There was a cry of pain, a grunt, and the sounds of metal and bark snapping and reshaping. 

His reaction time was nearly perfect. Just a partial bolt snuck through and struck the left side of his helmet. A loud hiss could be heard as spiderweb cracks splinted across the impact site.

The impact of the one hitting his arm and the other hitting his helmet threw him off balance for a moment before he quickly regained his footing. 

“››General Cross!‹‹“ A Trooper was at his side immediately to help him.

“›› Cotalo.‹‹“ He pushed the Trooper away. Shifting his plasma rifle to one hand, his other went to the side of his helm to check the damage. “››Structural integrity of helmet: 73%. Shift yoke to the left side as added security. Depressurizing as added security.‹‹” As he muttered his thoughts, he adjusted the high-collar-like shielding to the left. “››A Lancer dead insured my survivability. Striders adapting again. Counter. Sending out rough coordinates of the trajectories. Find and kill those snipers. Burn them out.‹‹”

“You can’t be…” Longeyes muttered.

“Are you serious?” Foil said. 

“You have to be shitting me!” Fives couldn’t believe their eyes.

“No time to gawk.” That stern voice of Fayruz made them snap too. “You three start moving now.” She could already see the ADVENT pods breaking away from the main forces to where each was located. “If you can, set up again. Looks like we cracked that helmet.” 

“My plasma’s done. I’ll see if I can find another.” Fives said.

All three quickly worked to relocate before they were cornered and killed.

“How many working plasmas do we still got that haven’t burned up or exploded?” Uro, her second-in-command, couldn’t help but voice her thoughts on their comms.

“Uro.” Fayruz didn’t sound pleased.

“Thinkn’ we ought to take Bones up on his of’er for them weapons like his weeks ago.” She continued to speak her thoughts. There was a faint hiss from her before a more aggressive venting hiss and crackle came over the comes. “Dam thing is melting in my hands. His crew’s gear is—”

“Silence.” Fayruz sneered. “Do. No. Bring. That man up.” Partially, the cold aggression was from the stress of a situation and her natural dislike towards Bones. She barely tolerated the odd man despite his questionable, yet good intentions to be the liaison between her and Volk and some nearby Skirmisher clans. And part of her didn’t want to acknowledge Bones’ questionable higher-quality weaponry. All signs pointed to him having some people on the inside and she questioned how.

“Good news, boss!” A stressed, but more happy voice hoped on the comes.

“What is it, Yukon?” Fayruz said. There were only a handful of events that could qualify as good right now.

“XCOM’s ship is coming in hot!”

That was good news.

Fayruz didn’t have to look far before that Skyranger graced her eyes. Engines burning bright, moonlight that slipped through the smoke glimmered off that metal exterior.

“Finally.” Feyruz said. A few binds unraveled themselves from around her heart, but she knew things were far from saved. If she noticed them, so did ADVENT. She barked out a new set of orders. “Those that can, provide XCOM covering fire so they can get on the ground!” 

“Opal, get me patched through to XCOM and get the others set up on similar lines.”

—————————————————————

“Central. This is Stellar Echo. At the AO. The squad is being deployed as we speak.” The pilot spoke as she kept the craft steady. “Looks like the Striders are providing covering fire for me.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Stellar Echo.” Central replied. His eyes glanced from screen to screen, taking everything in. “Once all boots are on the ground, head to the coordinates that are being sent over first. You’ll be running civvies and injured Striders to another secure haven. Watch for any followers. Assume you don’t have the luxury of what Bones’ man did to City 22.”

“Affirmative, Central. Will keep my eyes peeled for any tails.” 

“This Haven strike is more ordered, like a Chosen is running the show.” Commander Reeves was already taking in all the information she could see. “Though none have been reported since the Striders called.”

Central couldn’t help but nod. “It is the Hunter’s territory, but we knew he’s out of commission right now.”

“For how long?” They didn’t know how long it took a Chosen to recover. Reports for each constantly varied.

“True.” He nodded again. “We should be patched in with the Striders momentarily.

Seconds after the words left his mouth, they had established their connection with the Silent Striders.

“Finally, your men have arrived Central. About time.” Fayruz spoke, barely a hint of happiness in her voice.

A faint chuckle left Commander Reeves’ mouth as she shook her head and silenced her mic. So many memories flashed through her mind. “Displeasure. Impatient. Grumpiness. Just like old times indeed.” 

“You’re welcome, Frost Owl.” Central replied, barely phased by her tone. She wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. “The squad designation is Shatter. Six soldiers. We all should be connected by now.”

“Let’s see what they can accomplish. I believe you can see how dire the situation is?” Fayruz asked. 

“It’s a massacre.” Commander Reeves jumped in. “This strike looks to be more organized than the norm.”

“Exactly. They have their newest leader to thank.”

“Fill us in on that in a moment. What do you need my men to do…?” Commander Reeves’ voice trailed off as she was watching the action on the screens. Driving ADVENT off would not be an option here. “If you don’t mind me voicing my opinion, this Haven is lost. The best we can do is rescue and escort the civilians and any of your injured men out of here.”

Only a series of grumbles came from Feyruz. An astute observation that she didn’t want to acknowledge, but this was a losing battle. A sigh of defeat finally slipped from her lips. “Yes, that would be best. We’re running low on supplies and our plasma weaponry is overheating. We need to find any way we can to stall ADVENT. I can’t lose any more people.”

“Who’s the newest leader? I’m seeing several Officers that could be killed to disrupt some flow of information.” Central said as he had them marked for the soldiers to keep an eye out for.

“You can’t miss them. The tall one. Different armor.”

“Tall?” That both had the Commander and Central concerned for a moment before one of the Communication Officers and the ship’s AI found and isolated the leader.

“Okay, not a Chosen.” Central was relieved.

“They look interesting.” Commander Reeves muttered. “Orion, see if you can tap into the Psionic Network and isolate all commands given by this leader.”

“On it, Commander.” He responded.

As he did that, and she gave a few basic commanders to their soldiers to stay vigilant and keep close as they moved, she couldn’t help but find herself engrossed by the appearance of the ADVENT unit. She was getting that faint, yet deep feeling there was something about this leader that was familiar.

She tightly closed her eyes before pinching the bridge of her nose. “I would kill to have clear memories again.”

“Commander?” Central raised a brow.

She rolled her hand in a way of telling him “Don’t get too concerned”. “Having that feeling this one feels familiar.”

“Vestigial memories from when you were… connected?” He spoke the last bit in a whisper.

She closed her eyes tighter as a rumble in her throat slipped out. I’ll never be free of that. Opening her eyes, she glanced at him before looking back at the screen. “Yes and no. I don’t know how to put it. Feels almost closer.”

“Tapped in Commander, sending the information over to you.” Orion said.

A mix of feelings washed through the Commander’s body as the information came onto her screen. Her eyes focused on the leader’s credentials. 

“Field General Cross Murdoc. Designation: ADVENT PROXY(PXY) - M -  C1(II) - 01.” She read off the information. 

“Proxy? That sounds new.” Central said. The term didn’t ring a bell.

“Whatever he is, he’s looking to be one of a kind with his designation and high ranking.” Reeves noticed a golden motif of the Elders on one of his shoulder pads. Then she noticed something more troubling. Something that made a shiver go down her spine and the back of her throat ache. 

“And he’s processing a vast amount of information. Greater than the standard Captain processing and delivering commands to their subordinates. He’s taken note of our arrival, gathering information on what they have and where they are moving, but has yet to issue focused attack orders on us. Just continue forward and around. Find and cut off all escape routes.” 

“Wait, what?” Central took his eyes off the main action and looked at what she was looking at. Though he was still learning the finer details of the ADVENT language forced upon the Earth and the variations used specifically for more classified projects, the information that was being processed and released by this general was parsing too fast for him to read. “How are you getting all of that?” The harshest of glares made him want to take back that question. “Pretend I never asked that.”

“I will.” She rolled her eyes. “I see he wasn’t disturbed by what happened in City 22. Or they’ve managed to section off that part of the Network until it’s fixed for the region.” She soon began to mutter as she went back to deciphering the incoming and outgoing information from this Cross to see how they could counter him.

“Would you like to give orders for our soldiers to attempt to take out this General?” Central asked. “Cut the head, cause a communication breakdown to take the heat off of us and the Striders. Though that’s some heavy armor…”

“No, if the Silent Striders haven’t taken him out—” She paused. A thought crossed her mind. “Frost Owl,” she called out to her, “why is this General still standing?”

“General? Tch, looks different from the standard lot. More bloody annoying.” Fayruz grumbled. “We have tried. I can only assume inhuman reflexes with assisted AI like the Hunter, allows him to predict our shots. We finally, but barely, scratched his helmet before you lot arrived. That off-colored arm of his can form a shield that can block our plasma, and he ordered his troops to take several shots for him.”

“Hm, perhaps some pre-cognition like the Hunter?” The Commander mumbled her thoughts. 

“Just don’t waste your bullets.”

“Noted. Limited engagement with the General, buuuut…” She noticed a pattern in the information flow. “Those Officers and Captains, each a head of some pods, are handling more information than what they are built for. It is possible we can cause some minor disruptions by taking them out. It may even cause some negative feedback for the General” 

“One of my people noted that they become less organized if one of them is killed, but another quickly replaces the fallen, making the point moot.” Feyruz wasn’t convinced.

“Then we just need to keep the pressure on. Officers and Captains are more valuable than the standard units, it may cause this General to recall them to stay with the central strike force.”

“Hm, I’ll relay the information. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go back to our current tactics.”

“Understood. Every second counts.”

“Central, give the same orders to our soldiers, but reiterate the main focus is excavation.” Commander Reeves said. She took a moment to sink into her chair as her brain was beginning to struggle to process all the information. “Reiterate that strongly.”

“On it, Commander.” He nodded. 

“Shatter 1, additional orders. When you can, eliminate any Officers and Captains you come across. The goal is to cause information disruption. But keep your main focus on evacuating the civilians and assisting the Silent Striders.” He gave the orders.

“What for? We’ve got enough of the regulars and those Lan— FUCKING DIE ALREADY!” Raven had to pause as she body slammed a stubborn Stun Lancer into a wall before unloading on it with her Shard Gun into its chest. “Lancers, breathing…” Again, she paused to catch her breath, “breathing down our necks and you want us to bother with the red ones?” Raven said.

“There’s a small chance it’ll take some heat off of everyone as ADVENT loses some information with each death.” 

“If it’s information disruption the Commander wants…” She looked down at her forearm. Skulljack. Another joint idea from Dr. Tygan and Shen and their Foundry crew created after taking some of the alien’s hardlight technology to build the gauntlet and its blades. Supposedly, if used right, they would be able to tap right into the brain and the chip of the unlucky ADVENT Officer to get a glimpse into the network.

“Negative, negative.” Commander Reeves quickly interjected. “Unless you can isolate either. Right now, it would be too risky.” But she was silently sending orders for Tygan and his crew and their other data processing crews to be on standby if the chance came about.

“Understood. But if the opportunity arises…” Raven wasn’t exactly looking forward to trying out this untested device, but her blood was boiling to plunge it into a skull.

“Eliminating some of the reds?” Razor cocked his head to side a few sides as he was fiddling with the bandoleers on his chest, counting how many grenades and satchels he had left. “Should be easy like so. Yukon, you guys managed to plant those satchels I gave you guys and clear out?” He was speaking to one of the Silent Striders.

“Yes, but this better be worth the lives cost. 7 seconds out.” Yukon responded.

“Oh, it will be.” He darkly chuckled. “6…5…4…3…2…1…0.”

Several explosions went off across the haven, rocking the ground underneath them.

“Hot damn! Did you steal from Errol again?” Raven asked.

“Borrowed.”

“Well, if we barely had their attention before, we have it now.” Central muttered as he looked at the other screens, seeing the aftermath of the explosions. He couldn’t quite tell it put a dent in ADVENT’s forces as there looked to be more debris than bodies but could see the more fringe group of Troopers recalling themselves to the main horde with their chase route seeing cut off. Slowly, moving back. Maybe some Captains and Officers had been killed.

“Let’s get back on the clock!” Count shouted as she reloaded her Mag Revolver. “…3…4…5. Loaded. Strider and Owl and those Striders will be to the next area before we’re even there.”

“You all split?” Central had finally noticed the slightly smaller group.

“Yes’m. Strider’s been itching for a good perch. Owl’s old, but has some speed. And his faint ‘psi’ powers are picking up where the pods are going to move to so, he’ll dodge ‘em.” She explained.

“Hm.” Central’s eyes shifted to the two that split. The Silent Striders’ escort was decent, but it was still dangerous they didn’t have the varied firepower of the rest of the squad. “Get moving and keep these split-ups to the minimum.”

“Oh, shit.” The near-silent exclamation left the Commander’s lips.

“What now?” Central looked at her.

She simply pointed at the screen. “‘Voss. Voss. Voss. The Silent Striders spent their explosives ammunition hours ago. Where is XCOM? Where are they now? Where is their Grenadier? Where are those medics? I want them. 70/30. Alive or dead. At least one must be captured alive. I’ll do it myself, if I must.’”

“Shit.” He understood. “Team, keep on moving. You’re about to become priority targets!”

—————————————————————

Shatter 1-4 and their Silent Strider cohorts started moving again to catch up with the compatriots. It didn’t take long for them to notice the increased heat focusing on them. It seemed nearly any pod they crossed that was capturing or executing unlucky or engaging the Silent Striders, would immediately switch targets and focus on them. Especially, those pesky Stun Lancers. 

“Fuckin’ heeeeeeell rrrrrrgh.” Raven growled as that medspray from Sol’s Gremlin, Paprika, burned through her lungs as she sputtered back to conciseness. It took her a few seconds to get back on her feet and get her gun. She readjusted her singed armor before repeatedly kicking a dead Lancer at her feet. It had been a “mutual kill”. “I am going to hate red and blue with a passion after this.”

“Not sure I have enough another to handle another volley of those guys.” Sol muttered as she was getting the only surviving Strider back on their feet. “Trying to keep the best saved for any of us that go down, but… had to tap into some of it with the hit you took.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks. Let’s keep mov—”

“››XCOM there!‹‹“ Looked like more had found them. A hail of magnetic fire came down their way. So far, there were no crackles of energy from hot lancers.

“Oh, for FUCK’S sake.” Raven was hastily reloading her Shard Gun as she rushed for cover.

“Don’t need you going down again!” Sol, was dragging the barely alive Strider into cover.

“Razor!” Count shouted as she laid out covering fire.

“Give me a second!” He was scrambling for cover as he was searching for just the right grenade. “Maybe this one? Which way’s the wind? Which way’s the wind?”

“Just throw the damn thing!” Count and Raven yelled.

“HOLD YOUR BREATHS!” 

Razor had pulled two of his Gas grenades and threw them. The grenades bounced a few times and rolled in the midst of the Trooper pod before they exploded, erupting into a thick, sickly yellow cloud of gas.

There were several choked gasps. Three Troopers hit the ground. Lifeless. The others retreated and looked for another route around. 

“That’s… some… breathing… room.” Raven let out a sigh of relief. 

“We need to keep moving. Hopefully, Owl and Strider are still there and are off to the other area.” They all started to get moving once more. 

“They’re at the location, safely. One you guys are a few klicks from. Marionette Owl is getting people stabilized before the Striders move them to evac for Stellar Echo. Frost Owl and her surviving crew are moving to the location as we speak to meet up.” Central said. “Update, you may only have one more location to rescue civilians. The other two have been lost.”

A few curses came from the squad but was to be expected. 

“Shit, meant for that to be a regular and a gas.” Razor grimaced as he caught up with the others. “Still have some regulars, two incendiaries, a few proxy mines, and satchels.”

“Don’t matter. It’s giving us cover. Hope that gas spreads further and keeps them stalled.” Raven said. “Wonder if you can get your hands on that more potent stuff I’ve heard has been showing up on the Markets.”

“No.” Razor’s tone immediately became serious.

“Fine with overpowered explosions, but not gas?”

“I heard that stuff melts bodies. Not messing with it. Nor the people that make it. Lunatics.”

“Coward.” She joked.

“Do you guys always banter during combat? The Silent Strider, still hobbling despite Sol’s treatments, questioned.

“No.” Raven said.

“Yes.” Razor said.

Count rolled her eyes. “I’m scouting ahead.” She picked up her pace.

“It helps with the stress. Even in… moments like these.” Sol sighed.

“Sounds like my mates, to a point.” The Silent Strider chuckled.

“Heads up team, you have more closing in on your area.” Central said. “Triple-time it.”

“We’re moving, have a lot of debris and fire to get through, Centy.” Raven talked back, somewhat playfully.

“Less excuse—”

“Move now!” Commander Reeves cut him off. “General Cross is rapidly closing in on your position! We’ve lost sight of him on the screens.”

“Oh, you have to be shitting me.” Raven grumbled as hastened her steps.

Razor moved over to Sol to give her a hand with the injured Strider.

As they were closing in on their location, passing through a partially collapsed corridor(mainly using it for cover), there were a series of faint green lights shimmered through the smoke-filled window of another burning building.

“The end is clear. Hurry up.” Count said as she kept a lookout. “See the point. Last bastion of freedom. Commander and Central. Any eyes on that General?”

“Negative.” Central said. “Still looking.”

“He’s somewhere and still active. The flow of orders has barely stopped.” The Commander said.

The three-story ramshackle house was still standing despite part of it being on fire and a horde of ADVENT soldiers being mere minutes from bearing down on it.

“Hey SS, some of your people still have plasmas?” Raven noticed the green lights in up ahead. She was already at the exit and keeping an eye out for more ADVENT like Count.

“Huh?” The Silent Strider looked around. The green lights grew in brightness for a moment. “Huh, maybe some do. We should all be spent now and back to the magnetics.”

“Any superior firepower is better than nothing.” Raven mumbled. “Plasma cracks through armor better than our stuff.”

As Sol, Razor, and the Silent Strider continued down the corridor, the Silent Strider couldn’t help but feel something was off.

“With all the action, those lights shouldn’t be so bright… or should be near critical… constantly flickering a cracking.” They mumbled under their breath as they watched the lights. As they continued to mumble, the lights started to glow brighter and brighter suddenly. There was no hint of flickering or visible energy crackling around.

“Wait…” Something just wasn’t right. “Shit!” It clicked.

“You need to move!” The Silent Strider managed to get out of Razor’s grip, knocking him into and through a weakened wall, before shoving Sol to the ground. Just as he did so, the sound of plasma weaponry discharge rang through the air.

Count nearly shrieked as hot plasma zoomed past her face. The Silent Strider wasn’t so lucky. The bolt of plasma hit them square in the face. They didn’t even get a chance to yell, as the mere impact knocked them off their feet as the heat seared their flesh. The smells of burning flesh, fabric, and metal filled the air.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Razor yelped as he had just the luck to land in some fire and was desperately trying to put himself out.

“Oh, oh, go-, oh go-, oh go-—” Sol eyes were fixed on the fallen Silent Strider. Her mind had seen many things over the decades, but it had been forever since she had seen the damage plasma could do to human flesh in the heat of battle. What wasn’t burned to the bone was melted. And the smell. The contents of her stomach were screaming to meet the ground. Through a series of concerned beeping, Paprika was urging her to get up and move.

“What the hell!?

“Who the hell was that!?” 

Both Raven and Count had their weapons trained on the window the plasma bolt had come through while moving to nearby cover. There we no more green lights.

“There’s no Mutons or Vipers here, right?” Raven asked.

“None, none. Purely ADVENT in this Haven please.” Central said but he was double checking to make sure they didn’t miss a call for reinforcements.

“Well then wh—”

Two glints whipped out from the smoke in that window. Two glints bounced off the ground and ticked off some fallen metal roofing.

“Oh, you have got to be—” Raven was done.

“Less yap! MOVE!” Count thought her complaints could wait.

The two moved from their respective cover as fast as they could before the grenades went off. Before either had a chance to double back, the familiar crackle of lancers caught their ears. Both cursed.

“You two run, now!” Central barked the orders. They didn’t hesitate to listen. “Sol, you need to get on your feet now!” He ordered her next. She was still panicking. 

“Shit, who could this be?” Central mumbled as he was digging through all the information they had. No alien units were there. Just ADVENT. He then heard the Commander muttered. He glanced at her. Those eyes were fixed on the information stream from the General Cross.

“‘XCOM and Silent Striders are thorns. Haven cleansing is only at 77.48% efficiency. Vaoss. Vaoss. Vaoss. Black mark on my reinstatement. Tsk. Tsk. Their ship has been evading our trackers. Will order scouting parties to sweep the surrounding region.’” Commander Reeves said and only seemed to be more taken in by this information trance. “‘Targets located. Separating. Strider was alert, ‘saved’ two of their comrades, but was not alert to save themselves. Demolition specialist separated, but currently a fire hazard. Cautioned approach. Separating the other two. Stun Lancers sweep them away. Medic isolated. Frightened. Has one of those drones XCOM uses. Unit designation Specialist. They could be useful. Capturing.’”

“Oh, shit.” He realized who was. Then he noticed the video feed. That onyx-armored figure jumped out of the building and landed. “Sol! Get on your damn feet and run! It’s the General!” Still no response from her besides that stammering.

Cross landed on the ground with a solid thud. He let his plasma rifle fall to his side before he pulled a baton from his side. With a simple flick, he extended it to its full length “An XCOM Specialist. You look like you know something.”

“Laney!” Central barked again. He started calling out to the others nearby, but Count and Raven were still dealing with their chasers, with Count getting cornered and pulling out a Flashbang followed by a Needle grenade and letting both go off too close to her. Razor had finally put himself out and was having a standoff with some Troopers. He was pulling several pins in such a way that if they downed him, they would die too. Looked like they understood his gestures and warnings well.

“I wonder how long it will take you to break?” Cross’ grip tightened on the baton, causing arcs of white electricity to appear before he sprinted towards her.

Cross was mere feet from crossing the threshold of the corridor before he suddenly stopped, throwing up his shield arm to protect his head. 

A hail of magnetic fire rained down on him, causing him to stumble back. Just as it felt like there was a brief window to move, two plasma bolts cracked through the air. One hit his shield, causing part of it to splinter and shatter. The other him square in the chest before he could shift his arm, knocking him off his feet. Just as he was about to recover, one more shot rang out. Magnetic fire this time. It found its target.

Black shards from his helmet flew around. Cross cursed as his head was thrown back. He was off-balance for a few seconds before quickly rightening himself and moving to cover before the next hail of bullets could strike him.

“Heh, he, he he! Loving this new scope!” Strider’s giddy little giggle was almost a relief to Central’s ears. “Nice shot. Frosty.”

“Huh, the sensory overload worked. He’s not invincible.” Fayruz added. “Keep track of him!” She barked at her people. “He does not catch wind where we are evacing the last groups!”

“’Vaoss. Snipers. Nest of insects. Clever. Tsk. Tsk. Sloppy me. Black marks are sure. New orders: TEAR IT DOWN.’” Commander Reeves continued to read his transmissions. “‘Structural integrity of helmet: 52.089% and dropping. Otherwise, minimal injury. Backing off. Searching for another opportunity. The Grenadier… Orders: Back off from him. Too close. His payload would affect me and the Specialist. The other two… Sniper support one? Predictable. The other with the revolver? Self-damage with two grenades and purposefully set off the self-destruct system on the Lancers weapons? Intriguing. Her status? Alive, but heavily injured. Good. Press their medical supplies. Isolate if you can. That one deserves capture too. Choice DNA for that strong ill’isha in the face of death.’”

“Nice shot Strider and… Striders.” Central did his best to hold back a chuckle finally noticing that. “Laney—Sol, you back with the living yet!?”

Sol was still stammering. Her eyes were transfixed on the dead Silent Strider.

“Have her Gremlin zap her if she’s still out!” Owl joined in. Override code: Zeta 10-10. Small little shock, bring her back to senses.”

“Did not know that. Giving it a shot.” Central found a way to send the orders to Sol’s Gremlin. The next second, Paprika let out a little buzz before pulling itself close to her chest and letting out a small burst of electricity. 

She let out a shriek before batting it away. Her churning stomach finally won she vomited for a few seconds. Clutching her chest, she looked around. “Oh, god. Sorry, buddy.” Her Gremlin let out a few beeps. It wasn’t offended.

“Back to your senses?” Central asked.

“Sorry, Central.” She apologized to him as she got back on her shakes legs. ”It’s been… ages since I saw plasma do that damage. It was just so—”

“Sudden. I know, but keep your wits.” He understood all too well. “You all need to regroup. Head to where the others are before Cross gets the jump on you again. And looks like Count will need some patching up Sol. Hope she can still hear.” He was already submitting an updated brief to the medical team on the potential injuries that needed to be treated if all made it back alive.

A series of explosions and a building coming down nearly had everyone on edge again until Razor came back on the comms. Just him tossing the grenades he accidentally armed in his standoff. He was mostly fine minus the burns.

With that heat mostly cooled down, Central turned his to the Commander who was still engrossed by Cross’s transmissions.

He knew calling her name wouldn’t work. Instead, he stepped behind her chair, bringing his arms around and down on her shoulders, and gave her a hearty shake.

“‘—pod of Troopers lost, but the Officer survived with injuries? Acceptable. Find your way back, stick to the shado—’ Wha— What!?” Commander Reeves snapped too, bristling like a startled bird(and if she had hair, it would be as puffy as their plumage). She looked around until she noticed Central step back into view. “Not again.” She sighed as she rubbed her temples.

“Lost you to the information, but if you weren’t talking, we would have lost Sol.”

“Mhm.” She didn’t like that. “There’s an oddly… pleasant familiarity with his thought process.” She wished it were the opposite. There was a shakiness to her voice. “The whole process really. It’s like I’m—”

He silenced both their mics for the moment. He offered his hand to her. She gladly took it. “Back in the system? Your old prison.”

“Yes. Like my brain is wired to want this information streaming in and through me again.”

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“I can only pray and hope so.” She sighed. That fear would always linger at the back of her mind.

“Weeeeeell aren’t you alone.” Raven nearly sang as a red armored treat crossed her path. An Officer. And one that was injured. “Central, get the teams ready!”

That caught the attention of Central and the Commander.

“Oh, no. That could be a trap. Raven, do not engage! I repeat do not engage!”  Commander Reeves yelled.

“Crap, out mics.” He scrambled to get them back on.

“Show me that lovely skull of yours.” Priming the Skulljack, she rushed the Officer.

“Raven, do not engage! That could a tra—” Central was too late.

The dazed state of the Officer made it easy for Laney to disarm them before ramming the hard light blade into the back of the chin and right into the brain. 

“Shit!” He quickly shot off a message to Tygan, but was more than relieved to see someone on his team was keeping close tabs on the operation. 

“We have complete access to the ADVENT Psionic Network.” Tygan said. “I have dedicated our systems to processing the new data, but we will need to work fast. It’s only a matter of time before they detect our intrusion.”

“Make it quick, this guy’s heavy and the Jack is heating up!” Raven said. She selected the large intel cache and was waiting for when it was okay to let the deadweight drop.

“They better not be able to trace this hack back to us.” Commander Reeves said. 

“We implemented a safety cutoff if they—” He suddenly stopped.

“What is it?” She asked, but saw the red screen appear on Raven’s gauntlet and words in all caps. INTRUDER DETECTED.

“Shit!” Raven’s Skulljack gave out and the Officer dropped to the ground. She jerked her hand back, shaking it as smoke rose from the now sparking gauntlet. “That’s hot.”

“Commander, ADVENT cut the data transfer, but we blocked them from tracing the connection back to the ship, but not the solder. Something is coming their way.” Tygan said with utmost haste. “Scanners are detecting incoming psionic activity.”

“Ah, dammit.” Central was already looking for what headache they would have to deal with next.

“Raven, you need to move—”

Before Commander Reeves could finish her sentence, a strong psionic ping rang out mere feet from Raven, followed by several other high-pitched sounds. The bright purple light washed out the screen for a few seconds before they saw what came through.

“What the hell is that?” Both Raven and Central said.

Just mere feet from Raven was this semi-transparent golden-yellow female figure, featureless face save for a pair of glowing, white eyes, and a plume of a black, smoke-like substance flowing out of its head resembling hair. Its body seemed to be in constant flux; like parts of its body were glitching to sustain its existence from where ever it came from.

“Move, it has a Beam rifle!” Commander Reeves noticed the more dangerous item it held.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Raven finally noticed and moved before a beam of energy struck her. As she dove behind cover, took a moment to get her Shard Gun, and looked back. The being had disappeared. “What the… anyone catch—”

A psionic ping rang out and in a flash, that being was next to her again. 

“Shit! No, no, NO— AAA—!”

Raven was barely back on her feet, but as she turned, that beam struck her in the back. All air escaped her as she crashed to the ground. Her vitals crashed.

“Shit! The rest of you stay sharp. This threat can teleport! Have your Gremlins scanning for any sudden psionic activity.” Central gave the rest of the squad more information on the new threat as that psionic ping rang out once more and it was gone.

“Commander, from the information I’ve been able to decipher, that appears to be the ‘Codex’ responsible for safeguarding the alien data stores.”

“Codex. We have a name.” Her eyes watched the screens and scanners, but there was no hint of the thing. At least the group was back together and heading to their final destination but had some Troopers hot on their tail.

“Hm?” She noticed a change in General Cross transmissions. She felt herself being drawn to it again. “Hey, hey.” She tapped Central a few times.

“Hm?”

“Shake me again if I get lost. Something’s different. He looks to be in pain since the arrival of that Codex.” She said before she began to read it. He was about to stop her, but it was too late. He just kept an eye on her, the screens, and the scanners.

“Incoming Priority Transmission… from an Elder.” That was a surprise.

“What does it say?” Now Central wanted to hear this.

[ELDER:] ” ››PROXY Cross. Effective immediately, you are to withdraw from the field. Your sortie is over. You have done well despite the arrival of outside factors.‹‹”

[CROSS:] ”’ ››With highest respect, Elder Ororos, this cleansing is not done. I have

[ELDER:] “‘››That is now irrelevant. Your lessers will take over. You, a valued asset to Us, cannot be lost. The data guardian will dispose of the insects.‹‹“‘

[CROSS:] “‘›› ‘Eadto… Data guardian…? Network intrusion. Explains the feedback I am receiving. Vata. Vata. Vata.‹‹“

[ELDER:]  “‘›› A minor intrusion. The data will be recovered. Now, I repeat, withdraw immediately. There is a ship waiting for you—”

[CROSS:] “‘››Request denied. Partially illogical.‹‹‘“ 

Commander Reeves paused in her translation as she reread what she had just spoken.

“Did he just… ignore a direct order?” She said.

“It looks… it looks like it.” Central nodded.

There too was a pause in the transmission. 

[ELDER:] “‘››How dare… WHAT. WHAT!? Are. You. Damaged?‹‹’”

The Elder was just as shocked.

[CROSS:] “’››Chip status: Sound. Your logic: Vind’eadto’ill. My logic: The arrival of the data guardian can be used as leverage and acquire more combat data. Receiving broken data from the guardian, it killed one of XCOM and is closing in on the others. Let’s see how they react. Leverage and wipe them out. Ish’no? Then the opportunity is lost. Combat data lost. I want to understand the enemy. I will not vo’ish now. Can fight through the feedback.‹‹‘”

[ELDER:] “‘›› That accursed language. Maker… CROSS. YOU ARE TO WITHDRAW IMMEDIATELY. I WILL ASSUME—‹‹‘“”

The Elder’s transmission was suddenly cut.

[CROSS:] “‘›› I will accept all punishments once done. Now, I must strike.‹‹‘“

“And looks like he just cut off that Elder. I can’t imagine he’ll live longer.” Central shook his head.

“Nor can I— wait…” The Commander finally noticed something. ”Cross has been using some Fragmenta language here and there. Explains that ‘accursed language’ remark. I wonder why that choice of language?” 

Before she could dwell on that longer, the psionic scanner alarm went off. She looked back at the screen just as Sol’s Gremlin was marking the area.

On a smoldering roof, above the squad, that Codex reappeared with another ping. This time, its beam rifle was missing from its hands.

“Why is it unarmed now?” Commander Reeves didn’t like that.

“Doesn’t matter, team, shoot that thing!” Central said.

“Need a better angle and some cover from those Troopers!” Count said as she was moving to get a better shot.

“Can’t give another volley, our location is compromised. The Silent Striders are starting to pull out.” Strider said. “Finding a new perch and Owl’s on the way to you guys. His Gremlin has a charge it can set off on that thing.”

“We got you covered.“ Sol said as she pulled the pin from her Smoke Grenade and threw it near them.

“Last of my mines and satchels!” Razor said as he threw what he had left past the smoke and headed for cover to reload his Mag Cannon.

The Codex watched where the group was moving. Its attention focused on the two closest to each other. The Codex let out a few sounds as its form continued to glitch before it raised its hands.

The psionic scanner alarm went off again. Sol’s Gremlin let out panic beeps.

 “What the hell is —” Commander Reeves scanned through all the transmissions from ADVENT to see what was going on. She saw the repeated message: “STAY AWAY FROM THE RIFT.”

“Guys! You need to—”

The next second, a roar of energy ripped through the air, as a mass of purple energy swirled all around Sol and Razor. 

“What the hell?” Sol did not like the eery feeling that drowned her senses. “Paprika, come on!” Noticing her Gremlin was stunned, she quickly grabbed it and kept moving.

“Nice light show, now smile— huh?” As he pulled the trigger on his Mag Cannon, Razor found it empty. “What the hell? I just reloaded this thing?”

“That thing has psionics?” Central said. It barely looked organic.

Commander Reeves on the other hand nearly jumped out of her seat as she yelled. “Get out of that Rift now!” She hadn’t seen a psionic Rift in years and who knew those things had grown more dangerous.

It took Razor noticing the energies of the Rift growing more chaotic before he moved. Just as he dived out of the thing, it collapsed on itself before exploding throwing out some debris. 

“How the hell is my cannon empty? I just reloaded?” Razor growled as he pulled himself to cover. He was getting dangerously low on ammunition.

“Knock, knock, knock.” Mag Revolver raised, Count pulled the trigger. “3, 2, 1.” Fan Fire.

Each shot rang out. One whizzed right through the Codex’s form as it merely shifted to avoid the fire, but the other two struck its head. It shrieked as it fell back for a mere second before it shifted a few more times to reappear standing up.

But as it did so, it let out several sounds as it rapidly shifted around, its form distorted and split in two before reforming into one. As it did so, that split shifted with a psionic ping on the ground and reappeared near Count and the others. This one had a Beam rifle in its hands. One actively charging and pointed at Count.

“Are you kidding me!?” Count whipped around as fast as she could to shoot at the thing, causing its shot to go wide before she got back into cover.

“That thing can split? Or did another one of those things come through? Tygan, any ideas?” Central did not like the idea of a self-replicating foe.

“That is outside my expertise as we have lost direct connection to the Psionic Network, but scans are showing this ‘clone’ is sporting similar damage to the ‘original.’”

“It ‘fragmented’.” Commander Reeves said.

“You sound a little too sure about that.” Central said.

She simply gestured at the communications transmission. “What the General said. Seems to be a defense mechanism in response to damage, but it can’t keep it up forever risking a critical error to the data it stores and protects. At least he’s telling his forces to keep distance since two are out right now.” That would take some pressure off their soldiers.

“How many more times before it’s done? Anything we can do to keep that from happening?”

She simply shrugged. No answer from the transmissions. “Taking a guess, needs to be a hard, lethal shot. Or if anyone has any of those Bluescreen rounds. ”

“Shit.” None of them did. 

As Central was seeing if Fayruz could spare any of her men, which was slim as they themselves were pulling out and making sure the last of the wounded were out. Hearing that, he informed the squad the final location was scrapped. The new order was to survive as long as they could until Stellar Echo was back. 

The squad did their best to deal with the two teleporting nuisances that seemed to dodge their shots with ease. As one would teleport away, the other would either fire their Beam Rifle before the squad could reposition, or set off another one of those Psionic Rift. Any chance one of them got caught in the roof would mean lost ammo and they were running near dry.

“Dammit!” Razor cursed as he caught just on the edge of a Rift and he finally managed to hit one of the Codices. Thankfully, it didn’t split, but the Rift cost him his potential to deal heavy damage. “I’m OUT!” Just as he got out of the Rift, Razor angrily threw his Mag Cannon at the Codex, which only teleported away before it could hit. “Of all days to not have my pistol.” His eyes darted around the battlefield searching for a weapon. Any kind of weapon. 

“Razor!” Sol called out. “You can have mine!” She threw it to him.

“Thanks, shit!” He had to dive back down as a beam of energy headed his way, but quickly scrambled to get that Mag Pistol.

“Marionette Owl, ETA to the others?” Central asked.

“Nearly there.” Owl responded. “Crossed paths with Lancers, nasty buggers, but a Flashbang let me escape through some tight squeezes. Sending Nostrumo ahead of me. She’s programmed to zap one of those things plaguing the others once in range.”

“Nice thinking. Strider, your status?” 

“Nearly all these roofs are compromised. I’m on foot, heading there, but there’s still a lot of forces on the ground.”

“Keep your eyes peeled, but move fast. The others are just about dry.”

As Central was contacting Fayruz again, Commander Reeves focused her attention back on that data transmission.

“Hm, things may cool down to a point as General Cross is giving orders to start securing bodies and not give chase to the fleeing forces. He’s not happy at the less-than-ideal success rate of his sortie.”

“Barely good.” Central said. Maybe that would allow Strider and Owl to move more freely. “I would say a dent is better than nothing, be we lost an operative and could potentially lose more if these things aren’t killed.” 

“Wait…” She noticed something had changed. That odd thinking of Cross popping up again. And those words. “Target isolated. Capturing Specialist.”

“Specialist? SOL, YOU NEED TO MOVE NOW—”

“AAAARRRRRGHH!!” 

Too late. 

Sol felt a sharp stab to her back before electricity coursed through her body. It was a never-ending torrent of pain as she screamed until she no longer could. As the faintest of whimpers left her mouth, her vitals dropped as she hit the ground. Before her Gremlin could react, he stabbed that shock baton right between its eyes, and another high course voltage caused it to blow up in smoke. A smoldering wreck crashed to the ground.

“Target secured. Drone lost, but the shell can be studied.” Cross let out a proud chuckle. “This will please Ororos.”

“Shit, Sol!” Both Count and Razor were about to fire on Cross before the Codex reminded them to pay attention.

Cross dragged the unconscious Sol away from the ensuing chaos. As he raised himself back up, he grunted and stumbled. “This close to those guardians is causing more disruption. But there’s a chance to gain another subject. The risk may be worth it.”

He was studying the fight, watching to see how he could get Count as she had caught his attention earlier. Just as he saw an opinion as one of the Codices was about to open another Rift on top of Count, an angry buzz caught his attention.

“The other Specialist’s Gremlin.” He reached for his rifle.

Before he could draw it, Nostrumo whipped around the building, pausing for a moment to take in data, before swiftly flying over to the Codex with the growing psionic power. As soon as it was next to the thing, it let loose its last Capacitor Discharge. 

The Codex let out a series of shrieks as its form distorted and it grabbed its head. With a final shriek, its form imploded and all that was left was a black brain-shaped case that clattered to the ground.

“Thank you, little buddy~!” Count sang as she focused her fire on the one still pestering 

“Intriguing. Its form disappeared and left that.” Tygan commented. 

“Tygan, save your science for later. Need to other one dead and the General gone before you can start dissecting.” Central said.

“Cross is retreating.” Commander Reeves said.

“What?” Central looked at her with his brows furrowed.

She just pointed at the transmissions. “He was seeking to capture Count, but Nostrumo killing that Codex caused feedback he can’t ignore. He’s grabbing Sol and retreating.”

“What!?” Count was already turning on her heels to stop him. “We need to get So—”

“Leave her. We have more pressing problems with that last Codex, and if it duplicates again…” Commander Reeves cut her off. She didn’t need to explain that further. “There’s a chance we’ll be able to rescue Sol another day.”

“Shit.” Count cursed under her breath and turned back to fight the Codex.

“If I had another grenade.” Razor too cursed as he took potshots at the Codex when he could.

The remaining Codex disappeared with another ping before reappearing on the rooftops again. Beam Rifle missing from its hands.

“It’s going to open another one of those Rifts!” Razor was already moving. “And with how angrily Nostrumo’s beeping, it’s a big one.”

“Always moving out of shot! Always!” Count was looking for just the right angle. 

The air around Count began to distort.

“No, you don’t.” Strider said before a shot rang out. He finally found a perch.

The Codex shrieked as the shot struck its skull. Its form began to distort as it shifted through various stances as it struggled to keep its form together and keep the flow of energy to that forming Rift.

The distortion began to fade. But suddenly began to stabilize as its form looked splitting.

Another shot rang out, hitting it dead in the skull, again causing it to let out its death screams as it contorted once more and its form imploded, leaving behind another one of those cases. The energies of that forming Rift fully dissipated.

“Goodnight.” Feyruz said.

“Finally…” Razor let out a sigh of relief, but didn’t let his guard down.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Count mumbled as she rushed over to Razor to check on how he was doing. She gave a good kick to what remained of the Codex, only apologizing when Central scolded her, saying they needed what remained intact.

“I see I missed the party, but I have the meds.” Owl finally arrived and immediately with his two remaining allies.

“Thanks, Frost Owl, for the support.” Central said. He was surprised to hear her voice on the comms. “Thought you were long gone by now with how you were no longer answering my calls.” 

“I was looking for a gun since my plasma blew up while I was talking to you.” Fayruz replied with a gruff snort. Central just rolled his eyes. “Besides, it wouldn’t be unfair for me to cut and run with you losing two of you men and the risk of the others being lost.”

“How kind of you.”

“Once we reestablished ourselves and licked out wounds, we’ll keep an ear out for any nearby prisons holding an XCOM operative.” Feyrez offered.

“Thank you, we can use all the help we can get.” A mild bonus to a pyrrhic operation.

“Shatter squad, regroup and head to the evac, ASAP. General Cross has pulled out, but ADVENT is still active.”

“We need to get Raven’s body.” Count said. “Can’t leave behind another.”

“Negative. It’s too dangerous. And from this partially corrupted transmission from Cross, it looks like they retrieved her body.”

Count only cursed. 

The squad retrieved their gear and the remains of the Codices before regrouping and getting themselves to the Skyranger. They had a little trouble but were able to escape full-blow engagement with the remaining ADVENT troops sweeping the area.

“Tygan, have your teams ready to study those Codices on arrival, AND,” Commander Reeves didn’t mean to make such a dramatic pause but an important thought crossed her mind, “have psionic shielding constantly active. Already ordered Shen to have psionic containment ready for the handoff as soon as the Skyranger touches down.

“My team is already preparing for their arrival, Commander. Hopefully, studying these beings will provide some insight into the aliens’ ongoing plans.” He responded before cutting his transmission.

—————————————————————

Jynn took a few moments to go over any more after-operation information and issue a few more orders before slipping down her chain. She could feel a headache coming on.

“Oh, those pills are wearing off.” She could feel a palpating pain blossoming against her temples.

“You okay?” Bradford noticed her mutter.

“Medication wearing off. Headache, no, soon a migraine is coming on.” She grumbled.

“Want me to call the doctors?’

“Help me down to the Infirmary,” she extended her hand to him, “it’ll be faster.”

It took a few pulls to get her up, and once she was up, Jynn found herself leaning on Bradford.

“Oh, I am going to be bedridden for a few days.” She had a sinking feeling that would happen.

“Stay positive, maybe a few hours.” He said.

“No, days. I can feel it in my bones. My throat still freakn’ hurts. Manuke, manuke, manuke.”

“Rude.”

“I was calling myself a moron.”

The conversation grew silent as they made their way down to the Infirmary. Once Jynn was admitted and the doctors worked on her, their attention turned back to how the operation when.

“Now this is pointed at Jody…” Jynn warned Bradford before taking in a sharp breath. “I want to wring her neck and tan her hide, manuke!” As she cursed, her Cajun Southern accent fully came through. “Darn girl just had ta use that con’tra’tion on the Officer. Allons! Let me strike the lone Officer! Oh, no! A tataille emerges and much rracas for all!” She let out a slew of other curses before finally calming down. “Bless her damn heart… sincerely, but also, you idiot.”

Bradford, and any listening in, was doing his best to keep a straight face. He understood her frustrations and disappointments, but sometimes how strong that accent would come out would catch him off guard. “Yes, snrk, right, heh.” He turned to clear her throat before looking back at her. “A mild positive is that we know the Skulljack works, but needs more tweaking to avoid triggering more of those Codices.”

“Agreed.” She nodded.

“And see if we can use those upgrades Bones provided for future endeavors.”

“I wonder why…,” Jynn paused, “his gift was a surprise. Our teams are still looking at it, so of course, Tygan didn’t account for that.”

She noticed Dr. Chalsa come back around with her tablet in hand and Gremlin hovering over her shoulder.

“How am I looking, Chalsa?”

“Elevated adrenaline levels again and those neural pathways are active again. Picking up faint… faint psionic activity.” Dr. Chalsa said. Almost hesitant to mention the psionic activity.

“How long am I staying?” Jynn just wanted answers. She would moan and groan later.

“Overnight at the most.”

“Not… terrible. But may change once I explain why I suspect those pathways are active.”

“You… you know why they are active.” Chalsa raised a brow at her before looking at Bradford. He just raised his hands in defense.

“I was looking at communications data from an ADVENT General. There was something about the data, the way he spoke and processed the information that just… entranced me. That’s the best way to describe it.”

“Like your brain is still wired to want that information Network streaming in and through me again.” Bradford recalled what she said.

“Thank you… John.” She did not want to be reminded of her words.

“That is… intriguing. And concerning. I’ll fill Dr. Marin and the others about this.” Chalsa was already updating the others and Jynn’s health history. “You know exactly what that means, yes?”

“Tests? Yes. Better now than later when something in me snaps again.”

“Jynn.” Bradford shook his head when she said that.

“You know it’s true, John.”

Bradford stuck around for a few more hours until Skyranger was back and he had to make sure the handling of those Codex brains went properly. 

Until sleep called her, Jynn wrote out a report to the best of her ability on what she could recall when she wasn’t so enthralled by the information coming from General Cross. She wondered if they would meet that specialized General again and any more of those under the designation PROXY.

“Need to put some feelers out with the other Factions if they’ve heard anything with the designation PROXY. Maybe those Void Walkers know. Knowledge is their business.” 

[demon-blood-youths]

An Officer's Corruption: Sinful trails of the six claws OVA - Part One

Hi everyone! This is me. I got inspired from reading @the-silver-peahen-residence's drabbles on An Officer's Corruption parts. Here are the parts that Peahen wrote so far and there will be more coming.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

This drabble is going to be ova series of An Officer's Corruption series since will have parts related and unrelated.

Anyway! Enough of that. Here's an intro to the OVA. This is a short introduction so there will be more parts after this.

---- Warning ---

Mature content

Implied Violence

Hilarity.

---- Guest Stars ----

Midoriya and Bakugo from MHA ( This is a version which has Evil!Midoriya sorta... )

Atsushi Nakajima from BSD

Rin Ostuma from Blue Exorcist

Ren from Persona 5

Denji Hayakawa from CSM ( All of them above forms a gang )

Yuji and Megumi from JJK ( They're also prisoners as well. ) All canon muses above are rped by Peahen herself! )

Kisho Hashimoto ( My JJK OC from @chunibyo-x-sorcerer, he is in the same group as Yuji and Megumi )

Jinx, an OC from @the-silver-peahen-residence and leader of the Cursed Vixens.

Ira 'Kali' Vin Shia, Vanity 'Ink' Vanguard, and Kinie Ger are my OC muses.

---- Summary ----

Ink Vanguard has been assigned to a prison known for holding the most dangerous individuals. Not only that, she is there to look over and monitor six individuals especially. The Six Claws. How would Ink do on her first day upon entering the prison and who are the Six Claws?

----

Ever since Ink was transferred to a new prison, Ink already missed her fellow officers. She wonders how they're doing. From what she heard, Rust is looking after a prisoner named Davion, a fellow dragon-like herself. Something about a bounty hunter hunting down criminals but end up running into trouble.

Plus, Shdwkyz is in charge of a prisoner that is a bat or...man bat??? Something regarding vigilantism? Oblivion got transferred dealing with a girl who has power over poison. Or was it she was working with her? Ink can't remember but she gotta ask.

But at least Kali and Jinx are going with her. They also have prisoners assigned to them. Jinx has a prisoner nicknamed the Wild Tiger of the West who just assaulted a police officer after a raid on an illegal fighting gambling den. It won't last long since this guy Yuji Itadori has an older brother getting him a lawyer so it might be temporary. Jinx is there to make sure no fights break out involving the tiger.

Kali has a prisoner but she wouldn't tell her so Ink is not going to bother her. The warden of that prison is named Kinie Ger. Taz's older sister.

Once Ink arrives to the office, Kinie Ger is waiting inside.

"So you must be the famed Van Ink the Dragon. Known for your....many arrests and some complaints." Said Kinie Ger, reading her file. Ink grins, "That I am!"

"And you managed to keep a prison from rioting and preventing a prison breakout."

"Yep! Though..it's a crazy story!" Said Ink. Kinie Ger hums. "Anyway...I get straight to the point." Kinie Ger puts down the folder, "I want you to look after six individuals known for their misdeeds. They have been arrested for their specfic crimes. Not all of them are in the same gang but a group formed together. They became the worst group in history."

"They are named as the Six Claws in this prison and they basically controlled most of the prison despite my authority." Kinie Ger growls, "These fiends already scared off four officers before you. They couldn't endure them. So I hope you last longer than them!" She said. "Now...do you have any other questions?!"

Ink stood there with a smile on her face, making Kinie Ger stared. Why is she thinking right now!

"Sure!" Ink smiles as if there is nothing wrong with this. Kinie Ger had to make sure, "And you're prepared?"

"Yep!" Ink said. "These guys sound like they're super strong! I think I can got them!"

"Right.." Kinie Ger gets up and proceeds to hand them a handbook. "Here! Read this and tell me you understand all of it. If you have any questions, please ask."

"Okay, okay~!" Ink nods as she reads the content of the book, regarding the profiles of each prisoner of the Six Claws. Okay..so these are the guys. And... "Huh? Are they all different people and having nothing to do with each other?" Ink asked.

"They are. Most people form groups due to identity and background so they won't fall prey to other prisoners. Six Claws aren't that different and ever since their leader came here. He forms the best of the best or rather the worst of the worst. Prison is where Six Claws isn't the only thing you have to worry about. Other gangs in this prison have some beef with them but don't get your hopes up, they won't mess with them and won't help you unless they benefit from getting payback or something serious goes down in here. Understood?"

"Right..." Ink nods. After reading and such, she grins, "Okay! I'm good to go!"

"Perfect. Let's introduce our new officers to the prison. Make sure to give your best impression."

------ Tasmania Yard -----

Outside the yard, prisoners were hanging out in the yard. Some are playing on the field, some are having a conversation on the seats and some are doing exercise with the exercise equipment. Sitting on the stands is Yuji Itadori with his friends, Megumi Fushiguro and Kisho Hashimoto. They were thrown in here due to their affiliation as they both in the same fighting gambling den.

"This sucks..." Kisho grumbles. "How long does it take?"

"Just shut up and wait, Kisho. It takes time." Megumi tells him to which Kisho pouts. Itadori Yuji, a young man with pink hair, nicknamed the Wild Tiger of the West has a diagonal scar between his two eyes and a small left labial commissure of the mouth. He is closing his eyes as he sighs, "It's fine, Fushiguro. Kisho has a right to worry. I can't believe that the police busted us though. My brother, Sukuna might find a way to get us out of here. We just need to keep our mouths shut and listen to the lawyers. That's what he told us." Itadori sighs.

"Hm." Megumi hums, "In the meantime...we have to-"

It was relatively peaceful until doors were burst open making the prisoners alert as some of them jumped.

"Ah shit...it's them, again." Said Kisho while Megumi nudged an eblow at his side, hushing him to be quiet or else they will get attention on them.

Six young men walked through the yard and already...the prisoners there are already looking down and not meeting their eyes.

"We have to deal with them." Megumi whispered to Itadori while the tiger looks towards the group. The Six Claws. A gang founded in prison. The six got the name as they are now the dangerous gang in this prison. He heard about them from his brother and even he told him to be careful.

He heard the stories about them from other prisoners.

Up first is Denji Hayakawa, a known pervert and is known for slaying demons for hire. He was sent here after he killed a mafia gnag that was known for illegally smuggling demon remains. Their partnership went south and Denji killed all of them after the mafia were turned into zombies. Itadori heard his main choice of weapon are chainsaws. He is very tenacious and scared off female officers from here with his lecherous nature.

"Hey! Out of the way! We're walking here!" Denji barked at the prisoners to which they became startled.

Second is Atsushi Nakajima, known as the White Tiger. Interestingly, Yuji heard that this guy can turn into a big monster tiger. A weretiger. He was sent here after killing a bunch of farm animals and harming a lot of people. He killed several poachers inside a forest he called home. "Now, now, there is no need for that, Denji." Atsushi said, patting him on the back. "You just need to show instead of tell." He smiles with closed eyes, looking towards the two prisoners with a look before opening his eyes that look to be a tiger's, scaring them off.

"W-we're sorry!" Cried the prisoners making Atsushi chuckle. A groan is heard behind the two.

"Hey you two. What if they don't listen? You two need to punch them if they don't get out of the way." Said another man who has a dark blue hair and has a black long tail. This man is named Rin Okumura aka Son of Satan. Known for beating up a lot of guys and sending them to the hospital with serious injuries. He fought a huge biker gang and he was the last one standing on a pile of knocked-out guys. One time, he was arrested for certain arson incidents and sent here. "What's wrong, man! Are you too tired after jacking off?! Rin asked Denji.

"Ha?!" Denji responded with annoyance. "I could of punch them but I don't feel like it, okay. I bet you didn't punch because you're so tired all the time."

"Fuck off, Denji." Rin rolls his eyes while another man wearing glasses as he had that cool exterior around him.

"What's so funny, four-eyes?!" Denji asked.

"Oh nothing."

"Ren...if you got something to say, say it!" Denji said. Ren Amamiya, known for being an infamous thief. A gentleman thief. He is good at stealing and he runs a band of thieves like himself called the Phantom Thieves of Heart. Since his arrest, nobody has found his gang or his stash of stolen treasures. That's why he was sent here. Some say that he's a kleptomaniac.

"Hey, you! You got a smoke?" A spiky blond with red eyes stares down a timid prisoner. A new fish. "I-I...no...sir. I don't. S-sorry." Said the new fish. The blond groans, "Shit, really? Oh well."

"Y-yes...really." The timid prisoner nodded with a nervous smile on his face. This got the blond to frown and his eyes narrowed. "What's so funny?"

"F-Funny?" The prisoner repeated, still wearing a nervous smile.

"Yeah. Are you happy that I won't get a smoke?"

"N-no, I-"

"So why do you have that stupid smile on your stupid face?!" The blond growled. The prisoner gulps, "I-well..you.."

"You what?! You shitty extra!" In the blink of an eye, Bakugo punches the prisoner in the gut before kicking him across the few inches, making the prisoner crash against the gym bars. The prisoner coughs.

"You two extras! Pick this fucking loser up and get him out of my sight!" Bakugo Katsuki ordered the prisoners that kneeled down to their friend. The two nodded, "Y-yes!"

The guard notices this but doesn't do anything because he knows that he is no match for Bakugo and the Six Claws. He is already nervous.

Bakugo Katsuki is known for having anger issues and works as a vigilante to round up criminals. The criminals he caught ended up suffering burns and some hearing loss. He was charged for his illegal activities such as property damage and assault. He's someone to watch out for. But Itadori knew that guy is the least of their troubles, his friend is another story. He is standing while he looks through his notes with a wry smile.

The greenette with the freckles hums, reading a book with a hum. From what he heard, Izuku Midoriya took down criminals and not only that, pro-heroes with questionable histories, a handful of them were killed. Everyone calls him the Second Stain the Hero-Killer. Itadori heard that Midoriya could take down anyone no matter what. He heard that he's scared off many guards from this prison with his deep analysis of people, mostly their names. He always has that glint in his eyes. Regardless, he's the leader of the group.

"Also hey Yuji!" Kisho goes to get Yuji's attention, "Did you hear? We're going to get new guards coming in!"

"Wonder how long they last?" Megumi muttered, drinking his coffee can. "The last one who looked after the Six Claws didn't last a week," Megumi recalled. "Plus I heard there's one assigned to you, Itadori."

"Wait...really?" Itadori blinked with a brow raised. This is going to be interesting. Soon, the recess will be over and there will be an announcement by Warden Kinie Ger. They must stay in the yard for further directions.

----- Five minutes later -----

All the prisoners gather in front of a stage, forming in lines of rows and columns in an orderly fashion. There is Warden Kinie Ger is standing and in the back, guards are standing. Izuku noticed that there were three new faces.

"Prisoners!! As all you heard, we have new guards!" Kinie Ger informs them, "Now I don't want any funny business like a few certain incidents!" Kinie Ger eyed Izuku especially while Izuku gave her an 'innocent' smile. Kinie Ger scoffs.

"Anyway here are your new guards so you can get some self-acquitance with them." Said Kinie Ger before snapping her fingers.

Three came forward. All three are beatiful young woman in prison guard uniforms and caps. Denji is already grinning, seeing new female guards! Rin gives a look of disgust seeing Denji's reaction while Ren and Atsushi remain indifferent. Bakugo looks like he didn't give a shit while Izuku hums in amusement.

First up is...

"The name is Kali Vin Shia!" Kali Vin Shia said with frown. The young woman has olive skin with golden undertones, as she has long wavy black hair and purple eyes. "I'm the officer from South Manhattan Precinct! Top of my class! And all of you maggots-" Megumi can't help roll his eyes. Yeah, she won't last in here. "Better not start shit with me! I know martial arts! So you better listen to what I said or else! I WILL PUT A FOOT UP YOUR ASS IF YOU DON'T FOLLOW FUCKING ORDERS!!"

Ren can't help but chuckle a little while Rin scoffs. The next up is..

"Hi there! Name's Jinx Violet!" Said the girl with a confident smile. Jinx has medium ivory skin with dark reddish brown hair. "I'm from North Manhattan Precent." She said. Midoriya notes the burned scars, on her elbow and arm. Not only that there appear to be tattoos on her upper arms.

"They look like...vines," Atsushi noted while Midoirya hums.

"As long as we get along, everything will be okay! It's nice to meet you all!" Jinx tells her with great confidence before taking a step back. Kinie Ger nods as if she approves of their introductions. Megumi hums and whispers, "She seems confident." He tells Itadori.

And the last one...

Ink gives a breather and walks forward, ready to give her introduction. However, what happens next is that nobody is prepared for.

"My name is Ink and-" As Ink took a step forward, she stepped on one of her shoelaces from her right shoe. Minutes ago earlier, Kali reminded her to tie her shoelaces before coming up stage but Ink told her that she will do them later. That choice alone to tie them later is her biggest mistake. She steps on her shoelaces and then trips.

Eh? Ink widens her eyes with a dumbfounded look.

Huh? The prisoners stared and what happened next was that Ink tripped, rolled across the stage, and fell from the stage, landing face-first against the ground with a huge thud with her legs dangling forward in the air while her arms were on the floor.

Kisho gasped while Megumi and Yuji winced at the sound of the impact. The Six Claws were in shock and surprise even Midoriya stared in surprised, slowly blinking. Huh? Did that just happen?

Already, other prisoners were going crazy.

"What the hell?!"

"What happened?!"

"She tripped!"

"She just fell off from the stage!!"

"Is she okay?!"

"Damn! She must of landed on her face!"

Kinie Ger sighed, facepalming and the guards were in shock Kali twitched an eye while Jinx gasped, "Ink! Are you okay?!" She yelled. "TALK TO MEEEE!" Jinx yelled in an almost dramatic fashion. Kali curses, "For fuck's sake, this is why I told you to tie your shoelaces!"

She stepped on her untied shoelaces and that's what caused her to trip and fall from her stage??? Atsushi heard this as he didn't believe this.

The prisoners wonder if she is right because it sounds like it hurts from the sound of it. The commotion ceased when they heard a groan from the fallen female guard.

"HIII!" Ink goes to recover by rolling on the side and doing a backflip, "Sorry! The name is Ink! I will be assigned to this prison and watch over you! I'm from the Upstate..and I can't remember!" Ink said with a smile while there was a trickling of blood from her nose. "It's nice to meet you all!" Which got the guards and some of the prisoners almost startled and concerned.

"Uh...officer....you're bleeding!" Kisho yelled. Ink blinks, "Bleeding?" She licked her lips and wiped some blood from her nose with her fingers.

"Oh! Ow...." Ink said blankly with a smile.

OW?! All the guards and prisoners stared at her, hearing that. What's up with that late delay reaction?!

"Anyway! This is fine! Nice to meet you!" Ink waves while Kinie Ger shakes her head. "I will be always here if you need me!"

Six Claws watches her leave, thinking this girl can't be serious about working here, right? Already, they can guess that the guard they will get is Kali based on her attitude. If only they knew.

----- In Holding Cells -----

The Six Claws just found out that Officer Vanguard is assigned to them much to their surprise.

"What the hell is Warden Ger thinking?" Rin asked, tussling his own hair. "She can't be serious about assigning that clumsy lady to us! Did she even read the profiles on us?!"

"I heard from an outside source that Officer Vanguard did and still took the job. From what I heard, Officer Vanguard is top of her class as well and is recommended for this assignment apparentlty.." Ren pushes his glasses up.

"Top of her class? I mean...we all just watch that she just tripped over her untied shoelaces and fell off from the stage, right? This can't be right." Atsushi asked, sweatdropped. "There is no way..."

"As long as she's cute and pretty with those boobs of hers, I'm fine with this!" Denji exclaimed, not seeing a problem. Rin rolls his eyes, "Of course, that's what you thinking, you damn moron!" Rin shouted angrily.

"Who is she, anyway Ren?" Atsushi asked.

"From what I heard about her due to my outside source, she is called Van Ink the Dragon." Ren said. Everyone became silent as they heard that name. "Hold on...." Rin begins, "Isn't that the one who took down several bad guys and worked on a major case taking down that infamous demon hunter, Megan?!"

"Yes! Not only that, she took care of that corrupt pro-hero case and took down a terrorist too." Atsushi added. "We are talking about the same one that was up on that stage? That Van Ink the Dragon?!"

"That's the one and only." Ren nods.

"Woah...she's sexy and sounds freaking awesome!" Denji grinned. Now he can't wait to see her again and up close.

"Fuck that!" Bakugo shouted, getting everyone's attention. "There is no way...that damn extra is the Van Ink the Dragon and some prison guard! This can't be for real."

"Like what the fuck? There is no way that she is our prison guard, right, Deku?" Bakugo refers to his friend by his nickname. Midoriya hums.

"Let's see. This new batch of guards is already interesting, enough. I wonder what powers do they have? Officer Ink already showed me that she is strong." Midoriya smiles slyly. "So if she is what the stories said, then I can't wait to see her again.

And see what she's made of. Midoriya chuckles micheviously.

This prison just got interesting, alright.

To be Continued....????

[fluffydavey]

❛ you feel like home to me. ❜

soft and sweet sentence starters || prompts

It's a few weeks after Pulitzer lowered the price of the papes, when he's sat in Jack's new corner of The World, their new political cartoonist who's been shoved in a corner away from the journalists and the editors. "The important people," Jack had said with a roll of his eyes, despite the fact everyone could see how proud Jack was of his own workplace. He's even got his own office, which isn't something any of them could have dreamed about.

If anyone could achieve something so great, of course it would be Jack.

The World has gotten a lot louder since Jack's begun working for them, since most of the Newsies come keep him company at different points of the day while he's still working. Today it's Davey's turn, having had a half-day at school with homework to complete so he can return to collect Les in time to bring home to his parents.

Jack is moving his cramped wrist, staring down at the drawing below him. Davey doesn't even need to be sat close to him know it's perfect, the other boy has always been his own worst critic. "I don't even know what this means," Jack states, staring at the drawing in front of him.

"Everyone's eating them up," Davey says without looking up from his poetry book. "Circulation has gone up since you started your cartoons."

"It's not because of me," he says defiantly, and this makes Davey look up at him finally, his work can wait for a moment or two.

"Oh so it's just a major coincidence then?" he asks, playfully. He gets up, making his way to take a peek at Jack's drawing. He places an arm on Jack's chair, and leans over him to have a look. He won't admit it to anyone - especially not Jack or Katherine - but he's needed to ask his father about Jack's drawing a few times since it's gone over his head. But he can appreciate art, and he knows a good drawing when he sees one. "You've definitely got Roosevelt's nose."

"After everything he did for us, it feels mean drawing him like this," Jack admits, which Davey understands. He still thinks it's insane that the governor of New York knows who he is, so he can't actually imagine how Jack feels about the role he's been given.

"Do you regret taking up the job offer?" he asks, watching as Jack starts tapping his pencil against the table. He's wondered for a while - he's gone from the leader of the newsies to joining Davey in having to leave so shortly after their win. Davey had been dreaming of returning to school, but now he's back, he wants nothing more than to be out in the streets of New York selling with Jack. He counts the hours down until the weekends, when it's just the two of them, Les and the sunny New York streets.

"Sometimes," Jack admits. "It feels like I've been thrown into this new world that I don't fit in, and I don't want to fit in. These rich folk are no fun Davey."

Davey laughs at that, getting lost in the intricate drawings in front of him. There's something nagging at him though, and he doesn't think he can hold onto it any longer. "And what about Santa Fe? I honestly thought you'd have gone already by now. Made a new home for yourself."

Jack stills, and Davey thinks he may have pushed too far. So he's thought about Jack going to Santa Fe a few times - it isn't like he hasn't had any reason not to. For as long as he's known Jack, he's known the boy has craved for something more. Something better than they've all gotten out of life so far. And if that's Santa Fe...he's happy for Jack.

Really.

"I realised I don't need Santa Fe to make a home for myself," Jack says slowly, which surprises Davey. He looks away from the drawing, and watches Jack instead, who's playing with a pen in his hand, his knee bouncing beneath the table.

"Oh?" he asks, some sort of relief blossoming in his heart, as the idea of Jack staying in the city makes Davey feel a sort of way that he's not actually sure how to describe. It's dangerous and thrilling, and he's acutely aware he's known this boy for a few weeks, but he thinks he would be lost without Jack at this point now.

Jack turns in his chair, lifting his head to face Davey. Davey takes in the soft features in Jack's eyes, the smile that Davey's come to realise is only reserved for him. "Why would I need to go anywhere else when you feel like home to me."

Before he can even stop to register what Jack's just said to him, Jack's standing up and pressing his lips against his own. Kissing Jack is like giving him the key to everything that he’s ever wanted, that he never even thought he could dream of. He thinks he'll never come back from tasting Jack, his heart will forever be with the boy who’s holding onto the lapels of his school uniform.

It’s soft. Much softer than Davey had ever imagined their first kiss would be. Jack’s lips are soft and warm against his, and the smell of him is so much stronger for being so close. Jack’s hand inches up to his neck, holding Davey close to him.

When they finally break for air, they stare at each other for what seems like hours. Davey can't help the nervous laugh that falls from his lips, and Jack follows suit. "Plus, why would I want to go there? I hear there's sandstorms."

Davey doesn't hesitate to knock Jack's cap off of his head, before leaning down to kiss him again. He doesn't think he'll ever tire of the sensation.

[lindsayrps]

got some news for you

sidney halstead has been in the war long enough to know that down time, whatever that ended up meaning, didn’t exactly exist in the traditional sense. their free time was theirs to do as they saw fit during daylight hours but, mostly, they were all just in a holding pattern, waiting for that red mission light to come on.

gelsenkirchen hadn’t gone as planned due to bad weather and malfunctioning equipment but, these days, he was hard pressed to find two missions to string together in a row that had so maybe thart was just par for the course now. the day after with no mission on deck feels like a fluke, a one off. the day after that feels like a blessing in disguise. with a two week conference at oxford with holland on the horizon, sidney would take it. he’d split his day between reading in his bunk and the cinema across base, agreeing like usual to meet up with most everyone else at the club as soon as it didn’t feel illegal to drink for a good portion of whatever hours remained in the day.

by the time he gets out of the cinema and decides to venture towards the club, he’s being approached and told that hastings wants to see him in his office. with little indication about the reason, sidney’s left to catastrophize over the why the entire way there. things haven’t been particularly easy for the last few months, not since dale and it certainly hadn’t gotten any easier with ben tucker back in his orbit for the first time in quite a while and, he thinks, he might just be in trouble for that. they hadn’t been able to stop sniping at each other unless they were in the air and sidney knew hastings hated that shit with a passion. he was probably going to be told to smarten the fuck up and get over whatever it was that had happened between the two of them.

at headquarters, he’s led to hastings office and, after knocking to announce his arrival, is told to sit in the chair across from hastings. metaphorically, he’s at ease but, when neither of them say anything for a small stretch of time, he feels nothing but tense.

"can i ask why you wanted to see me, sir?" he ventures after a moment.

hastings isn’t the worst commanding officer sidney’s had, in fact, he’d probably go so far as to say he was one of the best he’d had in the more than ten years he’d been in the service, if not the best one. that didn’t mean that this was any less unnerving—he was just sitting there, cigar tucked between his fingers. he doesn’t always look so severe but it’s still jarring all the same.

"you’re out of uniform." hank says, finally. 

"i’m sorry?" it sounds more like an apology when he speaks but, in all fairness, sidney’s confused. he doesn’t think he’s ever been out of uniform since the day he was sent to basic training and he’s always been fairly meticulous about his uniforms and the way they looked, especially his dress uniform. 

he’d wondered, briefly, if his ribbon bars were out of order, but hank’s palming something from his pocket and, securing his cigar between his teeth, gesturing for sidney to stand while he makes his way around the desk. he reaches to unfasten the captain’s bars on the epaulet of his coat, an all knowing look in his eye as sidney’s express nothing but confusion until he sees the oak leaf pin replacing the bars. "i’m being promoted?"

"put in for it after regensburg." hank says. regensburg. sidney hated that mission, for many reasons, least of all because they’d lost dale. having to sit beside him while he bled out, unable to do a damn thing about it, and having to leave his body in telergma when they’d landed had haunted him ever since and he didn’t think that would be changing any time soon. he couldn’t even get through writing a damn letter to his folks at home. "things are a little backed up right now, took a while for it to come through. didn’t want to make you wait any longer. you’ve earned it."

"thank you, sir."

"go enjoy the rest of your night," hank says, waving him away by way of dismissing him. sidney doesn’t hesitate to stand and salute him before quickly taking his leave from the office and the building and finally head over to the club.

by the time he gets there, david is two drinks deep, elliot’s fucked off to some half hidden table to talk to nell (sid was still pissed he hadn’t won the damn bet but was happy for them all the same), wes is nowhere to be found, either ignoring them all for one night to catch up on sleep while he’s got the chance or he’s off with tali, and they’re all mostly gathered at the bar like usual. he joins them, drink in his hand moments later and attempts to meander into conversations that had been going on for a while without drawing too terribly much attention to himself.

to no avail.

"where you been?" jack asks.

"hastings wanted to see me," sidney replies, bringing his drink up to take a quick sip.

"what for?" he catches sight of the new pin on sidney’s coat that just barely glints in the low lights overhead. "shit!”

sidney watches as, like meerkats, the rest of them turn to look at him and the sudden commotion. “wasn't gonna bring it up but,” he starts, “i got promoted.”

“wasn't gonna bring it up,” sam says in a mocking tone. “why the hell not?”

“cause i knew you jackasses are gonna make a big deal out of it.” sid retorts.

“to be fair, it is a big deal.” it’s indigo’s turn to pipe up, now, ever the logical one and while sid knows he’s…kind of right, that doesn’t mean he likes it anymore. that grant agrees with him with a nod of his head isn't surprising, either.

“it’s not.” he retorts, again, this time to, mostly, be contrarian but also because, in his mind, it really isn’t–he’s doing what he’s been told to do, rank means nothing to him at the end of the day.

“it is, and you just don’t want us to celebrate you.” david grips sid by the shoulders and shakes him slightly, “well, it’s too damn late cause i’m already planning. hastings didn’t tell you when our next mission is, did he?”

“he didn’t tell me, no.” sid groans, but can’t help but smile at his friends. “you’re not going to let that stop you, are you?”

he shouldn't be surprised when the peanut gallery says, nope, not at all, in unison that could rival any chorus group.

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[scribbuluswrites]

The Crack

Well, it’s finally here. What I assume (and hope) is the final installment of this whole series (an entire chaptered epilogue (because i can’t let it GOOOOO)). I cannot believe where it’s gone or how far it has progressed! From just a couple of chapters that had been wiggling around in my brain to a series... That’s how writing goes, right? 

As always, thank you so much for sticking around :) All of your interactions/reblogs/comments are so appreciated. Each one is like a proverbial pat on the back. They keep me going, especially in times like recently where I need a little extra just to make it through the day. 

It had been nearly a year since Coco had suggested forever. Twelve months of pretending that happily ever after was and could be possible for him. The worst part was that he had genuinely believed it. 

“Coco,” Bishop’s voice cut into his thoughts, interrupting his smoke break. He dropped the butt onto the ground and pressed it under his boot before walking over to join his President at the office door. 

“What’s up, Pres?” Coco asked, not liking the concerned expression on Bishop’s face. 

“Angel was looking for you. He seemed distracted,” Bish commented, rubbing at his beard. “I need both of you focused for tonight, so get it fucking solved.” 

Coco sighed heavily. Things had gotten much better with his brother, but there was still tension between them. He wasn’t sure it would ever be completely gone, especially since Angel still refused to relax around Katarina. Even in group settings, he made it clear that he didn’t like Coco’s old lady.

“Yeah, I’ll find him,” Coco groaned, wishing he didn’t have to deal with this before a big club event. Bishop watched him go, still looking concerned over the state of his club members. 

Coco tried Angel’s phone. He wasn’t entirely surprised that it went straight to voicemail. With that at least tried, he headed for EZ’s trailer. 

“Yo, boyscout!” he shouted, banging on the thin metal door. After a few more knocks, Ez finally appeared at the door, opening the inner one so he could be seen through the screen door. He looked disheveled, and Coco wondered if he’d woken him up. “Where’s your idiot brother?” 

EZ huffed a breath and tried to avoid rolling his eyes. He was tired of being caught in the middle between Coco and Angel. 

“Look, he’s got Bish twisted up over something, and I gotta squash it before tonight,” Coco explained, uncomfortably shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

“I don’t know where he is. He had shit to take care of, and he didn’t tell me when he’d be back,” EZ replied gruffly. Coco stood his ground, not at all convinced. It only took another minute before EZ cracked. “Of course he left this for me to do,” EZ grumbled, opening the screen door. 

Coco climbed the stairs, following warily after EZ. He didn’t have the best feeling about whatever this was. He took the proffered beer without any words, leaning his back against the kitchen counter rather than sitting down. The idea of a quick escape felt better than a comfortable seat behind the table. 

“Look, I don’t know how to say this,” EZ started, turning the beer in his hands. The nervous fidgeting was setting Coco more on edge. 

“Just fuckin’ say it, bro,” Coco snapped, clenching his jaw to stop any further words. 

EZ took a deep breath, finally looking at Coco. “Nestor found Happy. He’s not dead.”

The words hung heavily in the air between them. Coco wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to that news. For the most part, he didn’t care that the Son had been found alive. He was almost a little more frustrated that they hadn’t checked on him carefully enough and had basically abandoned someone from the mother charter. 

“Kat’s going to…” EZ trailed off, shaking his head. Coco felt a pit start to grow in his stomach. He hadn’t even thought about having to tell Katarina that Happy was still alive. 

“Is he back in Santo?” 

EZ shrugged. “I don’t think so. Nes said the intel is good, but Happy is in Mexico still. I kind of assumed he’d want to get back to Charming, so I have no idea what he’s up to.” EZ paused for a few minutes, taking a long swig from his bottle. “You gonna tell Kat?” 

“I kinda have to,” Coco shrugged. “Imagine how bad it would be if I didn’t tell her. You know she’ll find out somehow. She fuckin’ knows everything.” 

EZ snorted. Coco was right; Katarina always seemed to know things. Even the stuff they tried to keep secret from her. She just seemed to have this natural ability to find out what Coco was hiding from her. 

“I will tell her,” Coco repeated, downing the last of his beer. “Just not before tonight. Things go smoothly, then I can figure this shit out,” he continued, pointing a finger in EZ’s face. “Don’t let Angel tell her, either.” 

“Trust me, Angel’s scared enough of her,” EZ chuckled, holding his hands up. 

Katarina bolted out of bed. From the looks of the grey sky, it couldn’t be much past four in the morning. However, the early hour didn’t seem to have deterred whoever was now pounding on the door of her apartment. 

She moved down the hall quickly, her pistol firmly in her left hand. As she got closer to the door, she turned sideways to rest her back against the wall. 

“Kat, it’s me,” Coco called through the door. Katarina wrenched the door open in record time, unsure what state Coco had to be in to disturb the entire building like this. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” EZ said, a false brightness in his tone. He was holding up a heavily patched and bloody Coco. 

“What the hell happened?” she asked, taking Coco’s other side to help get him into the apartment and over to the couch. 

“Shit went south,” Coco said quietly. His eye was covered with a bloody bandage and he already had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, his shaking hands trying to work the lighter. 

Kat’s eyebrows raised, and she turned to look at EZ. Without a word, she took the cigarette from Coco’s lips, staring between the two riders. 

“Club business,” EZ said, raising his shoulders. Katarina knew he couldn't tell a non-member about those things, but she still wanted to know what happened to Coco. He was a mess. “Templo tomorrow,” he said around Kat, giving Coco a brief nod before heading back to the door. 

Kat followed after him, missing the grimace on Coco’s face. He wasn’t looking forward to all of her questions. 

“Club business? That’s really it?” she asked, her voice a harsh whisper as she stepped into the hall behind EZ. 

“You know I can’t tell you about it,” EZ replied, sounding almost as exhausted as he looked. “And, you might want to give Coco some time. He’s pretty angry,” he added, turning to walk down the hallway. Katarina wanted to press him for more information, but she knew there was nothing else EZ would tell her. 

She went back into the apartment, locking the door behind her. As she moved to the living room, she noticed Coco was already gone from the couch. She heard glass breaking down the hall, and Kat walked towards the bathroom. 

Coco was standing in front of the now-cracked mirror, his hands gripping the sink so tightly that his knuckles were white. An orange bottle of prescription pills was open on the floor, likely the cause of the crack in the glass. 

“Get out.” Coco’s head was bent down, his hair falling over his face. Even at this distance Kat could imagine the twisted anger on his face, and she could clearly hear the vitriol in his voice. 

Katarina didn’t say anything in reply, but she bent down and began gathering up the pills strewn across the tile floor. Coco swiped his foot across the floor, pushing the pills out of her reach. 

“I said get the fuck out,” he repeated, his words much louder. 

Kat took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm. There were plenty of things she wanted to tell Coco, but she knew they would only make this worse. At the least, they could have this fight after he had a good night’s sleep and some time to heal. 

She stood up slowly, waiting until Coco finally glanced at her in the mirror. Whatever he had been about to shout at her withered on his lips at the expression in her eyes. Kat wouldn’t yell back, but she certainly wanted Coco to have to look at her. 

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” he finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper. 

Kat held his eyes in the mirror for a full minute before turning and leaving the room in silence. She got a blanket and pillow out of the linen closet, dropping them on the couch before retiring to their bedroom. She shut the door behind her, hoping Coco would get the message. 

Tags: @gemini0410 @scuzmunkie @woahitslucyylu @chibsytelford @withmyteeth

(my taglist is so far out of date. If you’d like to be added or dropped, please let me know!)

[graniairish]

Walking on eggshells

So this is my first own story here. I hope it is written in an understandable way. (Please ignore any grammatical errors. English is not my mother tongue.)

Title: Walking on eggshells

Words: 6761

Warnings: language (some explicit words), harassment and insults, heartbreak

Summary:

Daryl and reader have been close friends since the early days in Atlanta. They are deeply in love with each other but have no clue about it.

At some point new people join the community, including a young woman who is immediately after Daryl.

Reader is not exactly thin, no size zero, but also not fat, rather curvy, feminine. Even in this apocalyptic time. (you are just the way you are.)

Daryl has withdrawn more and more from reader, avoids contact. Reader believes he does that because he now has a perfect woman by his side.

However, Daryl avoids reader because he does not know how to deal with his feelings.

One day reader goes on a run that goes wrong. To save their group, the reader does a suicide stunt, that can cost her life.

--------------------------------------------------

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

Those were the first words Daryl Dixon had ever said to you.

It was still at camp in Atlanta. Daryl stood over you, the sun behind him, as he looked down at you as you made a stew from a basket full of leaves and mushrooms.

“Believe it or not, I know what I'm doing here. My mother taught me as a child which mushrooms and plants are edible, and which can be used as medicine."

He nudged his nose up in a nod.

"If ya say so."

With that he dropped something in front of you.

"Maybe the whole thin’ tastes like somethin’ with that," he said before he turned around and made his way back to his brother.

Your eyes followed him - confused. Only then did you notice that he had thrown about a dozen freshly hunted squirrels in front of you.

Maybe the grumpy redneck was not that bad after all, you thought to yourself with a smile as you started to skin and gut the dead animals.

It was not long before a friendship developed between you. You were the only one he really let near him after the disappearance of his brother and Sophia's death. And after the farm was overrun by Walkers, he was by your side to comfort you.

He was always there for you, just as you were for him. You cared for each other.

But you only noticed how deep the feelings really were on your side when Daryl - after the incident with Woodbury - had turned his back on you and everyone else and disappeared into the woods. Just to be with his brother.

The realization that you were infinitely in love with the withdrawn redneck hit you hard. And just seeing him walk away hurt you so much that you could not breathe.

Without knowing it, Daryl had broken your heart into a million pieces.

It felt like he took a part of you with him.

More and more you withdrew from the others. From time to time, you even slept in the old management office of the Prison, far away from the cell block, from everyone else, from your family. You just wanted to be left alone in your grief and heartbreak.

In the first time you had gone through hell emotionally and a psychological breakdown would not have been long in coming. And if it had not been for Maggie, you probably would not have found your way back.

She had been your solid rock and, without you really noticing, had become your best friend - your sister.

And after a while it got better. It did not hurt that much anymore. Although it was not quite true. It still hurt - hurt infinitely - but the distances that those waves of grief hit you grew larger.

And then suddenly Daryl was back.

It was a shock to you.

And the moment he moved back into his cell in the cell block, you moved out. There was no trace of you or your belongings in the whole building anymore.

Quietly, and without anyone noticing, you moved into the management's office - permanently. The thought of being so close to him - physically - without actually being able to be close to him was just unbearable for you.

And so you had retreated.

Daryl did not seem to mind. It almost seemed as if he had not even really noticed it.

You hardly had any contact with each other. He rarely talked to you, and if he did, then only what was necessary and as monosyllabic as possible. He even seemed to be avoiding you.

But that's how life works - hard and unfair.

And you cannot choose who to fall in love with.

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. But it only worked like that in movies and love songs, right? It did not work that way in real life, at least not for you.

As time goes by you had devoted all your concentration to your small farm. Your mother taught you how to handle plants as a child. In your previous life - before the apocalypse - you also had a vegetable garden with which you mostly tended yourself. So you knew the job and it was easy for you.

You lived in your own little world where you worked side by side with Rick and spent your meager free time with Maggie. Sometimes Carol would join you, but you had already noticed that she somehow always dropped a few comments about Daryl.

You did not want to talk about the redneck, let alone think about him. So, you ignored her as best you could - or at least her suggestions.

But it was not that easy. Your whole prison family knew how deep your feelings were for Daryl. No matter how hard you try to hide it, hide yourself from it.

Then Woodbury fell. New people came to the Prison and with them a young woman - Michelle. Probably only in her mid-twenties, model type, blonde, pretty. A typical homecoming queen.

To you, she made it seem like she had never worked hard in her entire life. She was the type of person who always muddled through, for her own benefit.

And just a few days after moving in, she was permanently on Daryl's heels. She asked questions, talked to him, spent most of the days near him.

But worst of all, she was openly flirting with the man you loved, and he did not seem to mind. Your stomach cramped painfully at the sight, and you had not been able to eat for two days.

Your heart, painstakingly patched together, broke one more time. After that you had avoided Daryl and his blond girl for almost a week, avoided them like the devil had shunned holy water.

But it could not go on like that. And at a certain point you realized: as long as Daryl was happy, nothing else mattered. At least for you.

To make matters worse, there was that cruel little voice in your head that kept whispering to you why Daryl was interested in Michelle and not you. It kept talking to you, all the time.

And then the little wheels in your head started spinning until you were caught in a vortex of thoughts.

She was thin and delicate; you were rather well built.

Her shoulders were narrow; yours were broad.

Her stomach was flat; but you had unmistakable love handles.

She had a firm, shaped ass; you childbearing hips - as your mother used to call it.

Her golden blonde hair always fell in gentle waves down her back. You always had your y/h/c ones in a messy bun. And after hours of hard work in the gardens, you always looked like a half-plucked chicken.

You would never have any chance of comparing yourself with this beautiful, gorgeous woman. Michelle was perfect.

You were just you.

But the worst part of this whole thing was that this woman could not leave you alone. She had won, the man was hers. What else did she want from you?!

Every now and then she dropped small comments, out of the earshot of others. But so that you could hear them very well.

"Hard to believe how one can be so well fed.”

“Are you secretly eating your way through our supplies?"

"Given your size, a whole bunch of Walkers could get fed up with you for a week."

It hurt, hurt infinitely. But you were willing to endure everything. You did not want to make a scene. Did not want to get upset, maybe to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

In the depths of your heart, you only wanted one thing. You just wanted Daryl to be happy. Everything else does not matter to you.

But what you failed to notice in all your self-doubt and self-sacrifice was: Daryl was not happy.

You were both blind to each other's intentions, had no idea why the other acted the way he was doing.

But the inner circle of your family, especially Maggie and Carol, knew what was going on. And having to watch the two of you - while you did not notice it yourself - slowly but surely drove everyone to despair.

The whole thing was like a fucking soap opera!

You and Daryl had barely spent time together and avoided each other as best you could, so you had not noticed all the little signs that spoke volumes to all the others.

How his ears turn red when you have been near him.

How he sometimes looked at you a little longer than others.

How he changed his shifts in the guard tower just so he could take care of you when you were near the fences during your work.

The moment Daryl faced you for the first time since his return, the floor was torn from under his feet. When he saw your y/e/c eyes looking at him, he felt his heart swell. Warmth spread in his chest and he had thousands of butterflies in his stomach. The redneck had never felt anything like that before and it terrified him.

It was something he could not handle.

He knew he screwed up when he left you because of his brother. The way you behaved towards him was unmistakable. Daryl did not want to endanger the little friendship that was still between you. He could not risk losing you for good.

So he gave you your freedom and just adored from a distance - without you noticing.

But from a certain point in time all his thinking was focused only on you. Or rather, to hide what he really felt about you - how much he loved you.

Daryl was so busy hiding the love he felt for you that he did not even notice how much this young woman from Woodbury was constantly flirting with him. Of course, it had not escaped him that she ran after him like a lost puppy; and yes that annoyed him.

But weren't all of these newcomers a pain in the ass?

He was not interested in this blonde woman, not a little bit. Daryl does not care about her; he does not even listen to her most of the time.

If he was honest, he did not even know her name.

---------------------------------

In the last few weeks, it had become routine for the redneck to be on guard duty in the early hours of the morning. Not just because he was an early riser- and finally got some peace up here from the intrusive people from Woodbury - but because you went to work in the vegetable gardens shortly after sunrise every day.

And from high up there he had the opportunity to watch and admire you unnoticed.

You have always been used to working hard, and everyone who saw you knew that you had no problem with it and that you could lend a hand. Rick once joked that you could overshadow any Amish when it came to your work ethic. You just shrugged your shoulders and replied that you had no problem with that as long as you didn't have to pray for hours.

So you and Daryl spent the mornings together - without your having a clue about it. You, lovingly watching over the plants in the vegetable patches, he on the guard tower, lovingly watching over you.

As the sun rose higher and higher on its way across the sky, it made the sweat shimmer on your skin as you patiently devoted yourself to each of your tasks without taking a break. The black tank top you wore on that hot summer day stuck to your body and framed it perfectly. Your figure was like an hourglass, and each of your curves came out sensually.

At least as far as Daryl could tell. For him you were perfect, just like you were. He could watch you for hours without getting tired of it, could watch you for the rest of his life.

Only when the crotch of his jeans became uncomfortably tight did the redneck look away from you. His thoughts had taken a suggestive course, and the images that emerged in his head were by far no longer suitable for minors. Daryl would surely spend this evening in his fist again - dreaming of how you would feel lying under him, how you would smell, how you would taste, and what sweet noises would come over your lips if he would touch you where you needed it most.

"Everything's okay," he heard a familiar voice next to him.

Damn it, did the time really go that fast? Was his shift already over?

"Are you okay? You seem a little distracted to me."

Carol had come to relieve him. But Daryl, in his fascination for you, had not even noticed her.

"’m okay."

"Yes, of course, and your thoughts were on the task in front of you the whole time."

There was unmistakable amusement in Carol's voice. With a knowing smile, the woman leaned on the railing and watched you work for a while.

"Can you please finally tell Y/N that you love her. So that we can finally all get on with our lives? It's really not nice to see you two walking around each other on eggshells."

Daryl was embarrassed. He was caught with his hand in the cookie jar by Carol. Still, he tried to stay as cool as possible.

"I have no idea what ya're talkin’ about."

But the woman was not easily fooled. She knew very well what was going on in the man in front of her. Just as she knew how you felt about him.

"I hear what you say, but your ears say something else.”

Daryl flinched. Sometimes he hated the way his body betrayed him.

“What the hell,” Carol had to keep from laughing “I didn't even know that they could get so red."

"Stop it woman."

Again and again, Carol tried to get her friend to finally confess his love to you. Because in her eyes you were both wasting valuable time. And being able to spend time with loved ones was the most important thing now.

You had not noticed any of this. You were too busy tying up the tomato plants and removing the leaves so that they brought the greatest possible yield. After all, many mouths had to be fed, and you all needed supplies for the coming winter.

And it was precisely these necessary supplies that prompted Rick to ask you to go on a run the next day with others. Of course, you immediately agreed, after all, everyone went on these runs at some point. It wouldn't be your first time, and certainly not your last time, that you would take part in something like this.

But who could say that in these uncertain times?

What you did not know at the time was, that Michelle would be there too. Maybe then you would have refused. But now you sat in the back seat of the pickup truck in silence, staring stubbornly out the window.

Michelle just a few inches away from you.

It had been clear to Maggie from the start that this constellation would not bring any good. However, even the young woman would not have expected what dimensions the whole thing would take. And in what a heartbreaking catastrophe it would end.

During the entire journey Glenn and Maggie tried to break the mood. The four of you sat in the truck and drove a few hours until you finally arrived at your destination.

It should be a simple thing - in and out, quietly, quickly, unseen.

But what no one had expected was the behavior that Michelle had displayed when it came to doing her part. She had absolutely no desire to be actually a part in this job.

And Michelle let the three of you feel that very clearly.

She neither wanted to help find the necessary supplies nor carry them; even found it outrageous that she had been asked by Rick to join in and risk her life. She had never had to do this before, why now?

It took you so much strength to stay calm and not yell your opinion on Michelle's face - or beat her across the street.

You did not like this woman, not a bit. For you, she was a narrow-minded, self-centered, selfish slut who cared about only herself. And what Daryl saw in her was incomprehensible to you.

But when Michelle began to risk all of your lives because of her loud behavior, even Maggie's patience ran out. The eternal insults in your direction were just the cherry on top. Maggie would have liked nothing more than to give this snotty brat a huge slap in the face.

But to make a shitty day even more shitty, that was unfortunately your smallest problem.

Michelle's loud complaints drew the attention of more and more walkers, and at some point, you had difficulties getting back to your car.

You had just successfully cleared a pharmacy when you saw the horde slowly approaching on the street.

That was by far the worst scenario, and your greatest fear.

It was all happening so quickly, and the only thing you thought was that Michelle had to make it back to the Prison alive. You could not risk Daryl losing someone he loved again. No matter what a fucking bitch she was. You knew it would destroy him.

The way back to the pickup was long and the Walkers unfortunately closer than wanted. The heavy backpacks did not make it any easier to escape them quickly. So you stayed back when Maggie, Glenn, and Michelle started running back towards the truck. You knew your partners needed a distraction to make it through.

And what could be a better distraction than you.

"Come to me you damn motherfuckers! Here I am! Come and catch me you bloody bastards! You ugly fuckers!" you screamed on top of your lungs, tried to make as much noise as possible.

The walkers slowly turned to you and came to hunt you down - to kill you. You would be their lunch. Scared to death your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you thought it was about to pop out.

From that point on, you could not remember anything. Your brain just shut down, went into survival mode. You only ran on instinct, no more active thinking.

In a way, like the Walkers you tried to escape from.

Maggie turned when she heard your voice, and the blood froze in her veins. She thought you were right behind her, but you were still near the entrance to the pharmacy and the horde of walkers was on the way to you.

"Y/N!" her voice was desperate.

She was about to turn back to you – to help you - but Glenn could not and would not let that happen.

"Come on Maggie, we have to get the car. We'll come back for her; I promise."

Glenn took his girlfriend's hand and pulled her forcefully with him.

Michelle had not noticed anything of that, she was the first to take a seat in the pickup and firmly locked the passenger door behind her.

When Glenn finally started the engine and Maggie - now in the back seat - turned her eyes back to the pharmacy entrance, you were gone.

Your best friend was in a panic.

"Where is she? Oh my god, where is she?"

Only then did she see you on the canopy of the building - the backpack with the bandages still firmly strapped around you.

"On the roof, Glenn, she's on the roof! We have to get her!" the young woman screamed in desperation.

She could not and did not want to lose her friend. Not now and not like this.

“and preferably before these things figure out how to climb”, was Glenn's addition when he turned the truck and drove towards the pharmacy.

"Are you crazy," squeaked Michelle, "do you want to die just to maybe save her life?"

Maggie's eyes darkened, and Glenn realized immediately that she had now reached the limit. Another word from Michelle and his girlfriend would feed this woman to the Walkers with no trace of guilt.

"You shut up now, bitch! You're to blame for all this shit. If you’d shut your damn mouth and done what we've all done hundreds of times before, none of this would have happened! These fucking things would never have noticed us."

Michelle gasped to give Maggie a neat answer, but Maggie was faster.

"If I hear one more word from you, if you just beep, I'll feed you to these Walkers!"

Michelle's reply was interrupted by the gruesome sound of breaking bones as Glenn brutally drove through the horde of walkers who were now confused and trying to understand what was going on around them.

You were still standing on the roof. Your gaze was focused on the scene before you but not fearful, as if your self was not there at that moment.

"You have to jump," Glenn called to you when he brought the pickup to a stop right under the roof.

And with that you jumped onto the back of the truck. The fall was higher than expected, and there was a thump as you hit the flatbed. Immediately Glenn had accelerated the car again and drove away as fast as he could in the direction of Prison.

Desperate, Maggie kept calling your name, but you just did not answer. Maybe you were in shock. After all, it was not common practice to voluntarily sacrifice oneself as a meal for these monsters.

A few miles out of town, Glenn finally stopped the car, and Maggie was by your side in an instant. But she was not prepared for what she saw. You were passed out and a small pool of blood had formed under your head. The thud she had heard - when you landed - had been your head when it hit the loading wall.

"Oh my God."

Immediately Maggie was at your side, looking for your pulse with trembling hands. And there it was - weak - but she felt it.

"Please open your eyes Y/N/N", the young woman pleaded as she lovingly brushed the hair off your face.

"Maggie?" Glenn's voice was timid, almost frightened, as he stood next to the pickup and stared at your broken body.

"We have to get her to my father as soon as possible!"

Maggie's harsh words seemed to loosen Glenn from his stupor.

"Okay, no problem, I can do that."

And with that Glenn was back behind the wheel and gave full throttle. Maggie stayed with you on the flatbed, took off your backpack and trying to stop the bleeding on your head.

-------------------------------------

Rick and Daryl were in the courtyard of the prison, discussing the next runs when the pickup truck drove through the gates with screeching tires. It was immediately clear to both of them that something bad must have happened.

Without wasting time, the two men ran towards the car.

"What happened", Rick called out.

But Daryl could not hear Glenn’s answer. Everything around him fell silent and vanished when he saw you - bleeding, passed out - in Maggie's arms.

Without thinking further, he jumped on the flatbed and leaned over you. He caressed your pale cheek with trembling fingertips before desperately looking for a pulse on your neck.

Frightened, he held his breath until he felt it, your heartbeat.

Even but so weak.

"We have to take her to my father."

Maggie had not even finished the sentence when Daryl had already taken you in his arms - bridal style - and was on the way to the infirmary with you.

With a lover's desperation, he clung to you as he ran all the way.

“Don't do this to me. I beg ya, please don't die to me."

-----------------------------------

Daryl never left your side for a moment. He sat like a statue and held your hand. He did not say a word, did not move. Neither when Hershel examined you, nor when he sewed your laceration.

He listened quietly to the vet's diagnosis and what he thought might happen in the next few hours or days.

Only when Maggie came with a bowl of water and a cloth to wash off the dirt and blood did he break free.

"Let me …" Daryls voice cracked, and the knot in his throat made it difficult for him to say anything else.

He took everything from Maggie's hand and put it on the little table next to your bed.

The redneck looked broken. The young woman could clearly see how much he loved you. And she knew that if you died, Daryl would vanish. He would just cease to exist.

“I'm so sorry,” Maggie said quietly, and a tear rolled down her cheek, “I thought she was right behind me. But … but she wasn't."

"It's not ya’ fault." Daryl's voice was barely perceptible.

Slowly he dipped the cloth into the warm water and began to carefully wash the blood off your face.

"Daryl I’m ... I’m"

"I know."

“Y/N is strong, she is tough. She will be okay."

Daryl just nodded absently while he concentrated fully on washing the blood off your temple.

And so Maggie left the redneck alone with you in the infirmary.

With trembling hands, he began to clean your neck. Little by little he washed your whole body- took care of you quietly and lovingly- making dirt, blood and sweat disappear, made you as clean as he saw you before you went on that fucking run.

Then he sat there, hour after hour, just looking at you, holding your hand. You looked so fragile. You lay there injured and pale, almost like a corpse. Only your quiet, even breathing told Daryl that you were still with him.

Inside Daryl, everything contracted painfully at the thought that you might not wake up again. Slowly he leaned towards your face. He looked at every birthmark, every wrinkle, every freckle, as if he wanted to burn them into his memory.

“I don't know if ya can hear me,” he finally began with a trembling voice.

“But I ... I ... I “, he had to laugh bitterly.

“’m a bloody coward. Why can' I jus’ say it?"

Daryl took a deep breath, he had to get his fear under control somehow. He had to tell you. He would never forgive himself if he did not do it now.

What if you died.

"I love ya Y/N. 've been in love with ya since ... I actually have no idea how long. But I love ya. I should have told ya much earlier. I don' know why I didn't. But I love ya."

Daryl fought back tears but lost.

"Oh God please, I beg ya, please come back to me. Give me a chance to show ya how much I love ya. Just one chance to prove myself to ya." and with that Daryl collapsed on top of you, crying and sobbing.

----------------------------------

It took you two days to open your eyes again. Two days in which Daryl had not left your side. Two days of going through hell and back again. In which even he had sent a quick prayer or two towards heaven.

It was as if you had been awakened from a deep sleep far too abruptly. And it took a while before you knew where you were. You felt dizzy and tired. Your head hurt like hell. And you were confused.

First, why you were in the infirmary, and second, why Daryl was sitting next to your bed looking like he had not slept in days – your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispered, "how are ya feelin’?"

"Tired", your voice was scratchy from not using it for a long time, "my head hurts."

“You hit ya head bad. Hershel had to patch ya up."

"What happened?"

"Can't ya remember."

"No ... Yes …. but not ... not really ... only up to a certain point."

You were nervous, were not used to Daryl being so close to you. You did not want to make a fuss about yourself, and yet you liked the attention this man was giving you.

“I can still remember the horde of Walkers who came up to me, but then … nothing ... I can't remember what happened then."

You had not noticed that tears had started to run down your temples until Daryl lovingly wiped them away with his thumb.

"Hey ... shh ... take it easy. Everythin’ is okay. Everyone’s fine. Please don't get upset, ya have a concussion. Hershel says ya need a lot of rest now."

And suddenly you were silent. Never before had Daryl spoken to you with such a loving tone in his voice or had touched you in this way. You did not understand what was happening here.

But he said you had a concussion. Perhaps it was to blame for this filter through which you noticed this whole interaction.

“I'll let Hershel know that ya woke up. I'll be right back; promise."

Confused, you looked after the redneck. Something had happened that you had no idea about. But you did not want to worry about it now. Your head hurt too much, and you just wanted to sleep.

---------------------------------------

When you opened your eyes again, Hershel was sitting in the chair on which you had previously seen Daryl.

"It's nice to see you again with your eyes open Y/N," said the older man with a friendly smile, "you worried us very much."

"‘m sorry. "

"It's okay. How do you feel?"

"Okay. Tired, head hurts."

"Something else?"

"No, except that I feel like I'm wrapped in cotton wool."

Hershel sat and listened to you before nodding.

"Daryl said you can't remember what happened."

"Not really."

"Don't worry, that's nothing unusual with this type of head injury."

He patted your shoulder encouragingly.

"Will I be able to remember one day?"

"You know kid, sometimes it is really good not to be able to remember some things."

"Probably."

“But now you should rest first. I know you have questions, but answers will come later. After all, you have to regain your strength."

------------------------------------------

You knew you had slept, but not for how long. Because the next time you opened your eyes, Carol was sitting on that same chair. But there was something else. Could it be that it smelled of her venison ragout?

"How are you, Y/N/N?"

"Still tired, but the headache is almost gone."

"Good to hear. You gave us all a real scare."

"I'm sorry."

"Especially Daryl. I've never seen him so frightened."

You looked questioningly at the older woman next to you. You were used to it that she kept dropping allusions about Daryl - at least when she talked to you. But you just did not understand that statement at all.

Daryl was never afraid of anything. Why would he ...

"Well. Are you hungry?" Carol had a friendly smile on her face when it broke your train of thought.

At that moment, your stomach made a loud rumbling noise.

“I'll take that as a yes,” smirked the gray-haired woman, “Daryl went hunting so that I could cook this. He knows it’s your favorite."

Unsure you looked at Carol before you took the bowl from her hand and slowly began to eat. It was true, that was your favorite food - if there was such a thing at all in times like this.

"You know that he loves you," she suddenly began out of nowhere

"Of course, we are family," did you try to belittle the matter.

“Okay, let's reformulate the whole thing again. Daryl is in love with you, absolutely and one hundred percent madly in love with you. A 'you're the only one for me' love. Without any misunderstanding."

When she said that, you choked on the stew right away and now you sat in front of her, coughing and snorting.

“And I know you love him too. So don't try to deny it at all. Everyone here knows that. Or how blind do you think we are? Although ... apart from Daryl. He has no idea. He probably wouldn't even understand if it bites his ass.”

At this picture you had to laugh.

“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith in order to reach their goal. You two really have to start talking clearly to each other. You two belong together like pepper and salt Do you actually notice how much you waste your precious time? Neither of us knows how much of it is left. You should know that now, because honey it was damn close."

---------------------------------------------

Sleeping was your main occupation right now. A concussion took time and a lot of rest to heal. So it wasn't uncommon for your life to consist of short scenes at the moment.

With a sound - like a purring cat - you stretched in the hospital bed before opening your eyes. You no longer had any sense of time, and only the sunlight falling through the barred windows told you that it was probably afternoon.

"Hey."

Only now did you notice that Daryl was with you again.

"Ya feel better?"

"Yes."

Daryl seemed kind of nervous. But that wasn't possible, why should he?

"I've been here before, but ya slept and I don't want to wake ya", his words just gushed out of him.

Could it be? Was he nervous?

"Okay ... yes ... uhm ..."

You were easily overwhelmed with this situation, and somehow your head just seemed to have been swept clean. You could not find any words.

"We take turns. Hershel thinks there should always be someone with ya. Because of the concussion. Rick has already been here, and Maggie of course."

"And Carol."

"Yea."

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For the food. Carol said you went hunting especially for it."

"No problem."

“I still appreciate it. And for ... that you are here ... with me."

He nudged his nose up in a nod.

And then there was silence. The conversation with Carol kept going through your head. What she said. Could it really be true?

You knew that Daryl has always been more of a man of action than a man of words. And it was clear to you that if you did not take the first step now, you two would probably never get anywhere.

"Carol spoke to me", you started when you sat up

The man across from you was obviously nervous now. You could tell all too clearly by the fact that he was starting to chew the inside of his cheek.

"With me too."

"Apparently something like an intervention is going on here, could that be", you smiled, trying to loosen up the mood a bit.

"Seems so."

Daryl looked at you for a few moments. You could see the wheels turning in his head.

"I'm a coward, Y/N," he finally began.

You had expected a lot, but not a statement like that.

"No, you’re not. How did you come up with such an idea?"

"I was a complete idiot and too cowardly."

"What are you talking about Daryl."

In your opinion, this was going completely wrong right now. You actually wanted to tell him you loved him, and now it seemed to end in a vortex of self-doubt.

"I love ya, Y/N.”

And with that your thoughts became silent.

“I am terribly in love with ya. And out of fear I didn't say anything. But then I saw ya lying on the flatbed of that fucking truck, covered in blood and passed out. At that moment, my heart stopped. And I swore to myself that when ya're okay again, when ya've got throu’ this, that I'll finally tell ya what I feel for ya. Y/N I love ya. "

During Daryl's monologue you forgot how to breathe and just listened intently while thousands of butterflies fluttered around in your stomach like they're having a bloody party there.

It took you some time to realize that Daryl was waiting for a reaction from you as he gnawed his thumb in fear.

"I love you too," it gushed out of you before you even realized you had said something.

And then there was silence again. You and Daryl just looked at each other. Unsure what to do now. After all, you were both in uncharted waters.

"And ... and now," you asked uncertainly.

"Don't know," Daryl just shrugged.

"I mean ... um ... are ... are we ... together now?"

You carefully ventured out of cover.

"Um, yea ... if ya ... if ya want that."

"Oh my god, yes please", you replied in one breath.

Suddenly the tension between you had dissolved and you both had to laugh. It was so surreal. Two adults acted like teenagers in love who had no idea what to do.

But then Daryl slowly leaned in towards you. Your heart was pounding when you could finally feel his breath on your face. But before your lips touched, he stopped. He wanted to give you the opportunity to evade him if you did not want this.

But you wanted it, wanted it more than anything else in your life. And when you had overcome the last few inches, you finally felt his lips on yours.

The feeling was amazing. As if at that moment an electric shock had run through your whole body, and at the same time it was like coming home.

Everything around you no longer existed, was no longer important. Here and now, it was just you and Daryl. The way his lips moved with yours, how his fingers slowly ran up your arms until they were in your hair.

Everything was so intense. And when you finally parted to take a much-needed breath, Daryl leaned his forehead against yours.

"Ya have no idea how long I've been dreamin’ about this."

"Probably as long as me."

-------------------------

When Rick was about to visit Y/N in the early evening hours, he saw Carol and Maggie standing in the door to the infirmary.

"Everything's okay," he wanted to know.

The two women turned around with their index fingers over their lips.

"Shhhh."

Both did at the same time.

"Be quiet and come here," Carol whispered, "you really have to see that."

Rick approached the two women curiously. What could be so interesting that Carol and Maggie were half-hidden behind the door, staring into the infirmary?

He was confused, but when he saw what fascinated them so much, his heart swell. A satisfied smile played on his lips, as he was seeing what was going on less than five paces away.

Daryl was lying - half sitting - on the bed. His back supported on the wall behind him. Y/N was snuggled close to him, head on his chest and her arm wrapped around him. Absently, the fingers of his right hand traced patterns on her upper arm as he read to her from an old paperback.

Everyone could see the love that bound these two people. And thank God the two finally understood that.

"Seems like we finally have a happy ending," said the former deputy with a broad smile.

"Thank God", Maggie exhaled, "nobody wanted to watch this puppy love shit anymore."

“Yes,” laughed Rick, “but you have to admit there was something exciting about the whole thing. As if it had been our very own little soap opera."

"You're right, but I prefer my best friend happy."

"And what do we do now. I mean this seemingly endless heartbreak theater has come obviously to an end."

"Gossip- Rick is afraid he'll get bored?"

Maggie's voice was teasing.

"No, that's not how it was meant."

"Don't worry, Rick," said Carol with a smile, "I think the whole thing has a sequel anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, has someone told Michelle yet?"

All three looked at each other with big eyes before they having to resist laughing convulsively.

This story could get really interesting after all, they agreed.

part two

[danniburgh]

Give you what you want (Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carrillo

Summary: You’ve been crushing hard on Javier - and Colonel Carrillo. And when they both find out about it, they can’t help but indulge you.

Word count: +11.1k

Chapter warnings: mild angst, mentions of violence, divorce talk, discussion of polyamorous relationship. OT3 SMUT, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, double penetration, alcohol, a lot of cum lol

A/N: this is a collab between me, @maharani-radha-writes​ and @queenofthefaceless, okay, yes this is a repost (basically the blog in which this os was posted blocked me). originally posted on april 6th 2021

ao3 // Masterlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

Carrillo slammed his face on the steering wheel of his car with a groan. He had just spent all day in court finalizing his divorce—which had been going on for months—and just as he had gotten home, he realized that he had forgotten his service pistol at the office. Something he was not allowed to bring in the courtroom.

Fuckers.

He had separation anxiety from it, so even though he had multiple spares in the house, he had one trusty weapon, and he wouldn’t be caught dead without it. He glanced at the clock, and saw that it was only eight o’clock, so it wasn’t too late for him to swing back to base and grab it. Shaking his head, he turned the ignition of his car back on and reversed out of his driveway to head back to the station.

When he got there, he used his keys to enter through the back doorway, not really wanting to have to greet the guards at the front. He was just… way too done with people that day. Although he and his by then ex-wife had separated amicably (or as amicably as it could get), the divorce had taken a huge toll on him. He and Juliana had separated about five months before, and he had spent that time sitting in lawyers’ conference rooms, arguing over this and that. He was ready to just give her everything and anything she wanted if it meant he could get that painful process over with.

Truth be told, Carrillo was lonely. He had been for a long time, even while he was still married to Juliana. They had been less of a married couple and more like roommates for the past year at least, and it was getting to them both. His job was tough and dangerous–Juliana didn’t understand a lot of it. To be fair, he kept most of it from her, but that got exhausting after a while. He longed to just...let go, and he couldn’t do that with her. And after a while, she had decided that staying married to him (and his job) was more trouble than it was worth. He couldn’t blame her, not one bit.

It didn’t matter any more. He had firmly closed that chapter of his life, and was ready to move on. He didn’t know what the future looked like for him, but the only thing that he was sure of was that Pablo Escobar would be dead. He would make sure of it–even if he died trying.

After finding his service pistol, which had been stuffed in a holster under his desk, Carrillo closed the door to his office, and proceeded to walk down the hallway to the back exit. But he stopped when he heard voices coming from the bullpen.

Odd.

He hadn’t seen anyone when he had come in. He turned slightly and strained his ears to try to see if he could discern who it was. Then he heard the distinct Southern American drawl of none other than Steve Murphy. The man had been pulling late nights in the office ever since his wife got up and left him.

“All right, kiddo, care to tell me what the fuck your problem is?”

Who–? Was “kiddo”? It certainly couldn’t be Peña. It was a Friday night, surely Peña was off….doing something (or someone) else.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem, Murph?”

Oh, it was you. The lone female agent of the DEA. Carrillo had been quite wary of you when you had joined the team about a year before. He really wasn’t sure what, if anything, you would be bringing to the table. And he thought that having two DEA agents was two too many already. But over time, you had proven to be a strong, capable, and intelligent partner, and his respect for you had grown.

Bringing you to Colombia had been a good decision, on the part of your superiors.

Now that he had identified the two people still stuck in the base, he should have been satisfied and been on his way. But something about Steve’s tone of voice kept him rooted to the spot. He really, really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, especially since he was sure that it was a conversation he was not meant to hear.

“You’re on edge. A lot more than usual,” Steve said, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Steve. Just drop it,” you grumbled.

“Oh, so there is something?” Steve snarked, “Look, I normally would back off and leave you alone, but you’ve been highly distracted lately. And it’s affecting your work. I need to know what’s up or at least confirm that you’re going to get this resolved soon because we need your head in the game.”

Now that Steve mentioned it, Carrillo had noticed that you were...not yourself. And you hadn’t been for a while. But Carrillo was too caught up in his own drama to give it much of a thought.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, “I’ll try not to be so scatterbrained. I’ll fix it, I promise.”

“Is this what I think it is? The thing you told Connie that I’m not supposed to know about?” Steve asked.

Carrillo knew he absolutely needed to leave. That was not a conversation he should be listening to. But he just could not help it.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Steve. I’ve told Connie a lot of things,” you chuckled, nervously.

“I mean about–” there was a pause, presumably Steve looking around to check that nobody was there, “–your feelings. For, uh, ya know, Peña?”

Oh. That was news.

“And–uh–Carrillo I think?” Steve continued.

Wait...what?

Carrillo whipped his head around so fast that he winced as his neck twinged in protest. Since when...since when did you have feelings? For him? And Peña? What was happening? Someone needed to shoot him because that could not be real.

“Must you say it aloud?” you hissed.

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I don’t mean to embarrass you,” Steve apologized, “And normally I would mind my own fucking business, but this is getting out of hand. You really don’t think I notice the cows’ eyes you make at Peña when he’s not looking?”

“I don’t do that!” you denied, indignantly.

“Okay fine, maybe that’s a bit dramatic,” Steve conceded, “But the point still stands. You definitely need to get this fixed. Have you thought, oh I don’t know, telling Peña? Or even Carrillo?”

“Are you crazy?” you stammered, “Do you have any idea what that would do to my career? Not to mention that Carrillo is...fucking married?”

“Well, he’s divorced now,” Steve clarified, “And nobody has to know. It’s nobody else’s business but yours. I’m just saying, think about it ok? You deserve an outlet, just like everyone else.”

Carrillo decided that it was best to not stay and hear what you had to say to that. Instead, he hightailed it out of the base, as quickly as he could, trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to alert you and Steve to his presence. Once he was finally in the safety of his car, he put his head back onto the seat and let out a long breath, trying to figure out what he was going to do with that information. He couldn’t deny that the idea of you having feelings for him was incredibly flattering. You were a very guarded individual and quite hard to read sometimes–not so dissimilar to him. He would have never, in a million years, guessed that you would be interested in him, and that was mostly due to your closed off persona.

But to find out that you had feelings for both him and Peña? That was an interesting development. Carrillo didn’t know how to feel about that. But he can’t deny that it intrigued him...more than it should have. His mother would be completely mortified if she found out that he was entertaining this--whatever it was.

But his mother was not here. His wife was gone, and had taken the kids with her. It was just him, and his large house. And now, apparently, you and possibly Peña. Carrillo tilted his head contemplatively and started the ignition of his car.

Maybe...just maybe, there was something to this whole charade.

**Scene Break 1**

Steve was tired. Scratch that, he was exhausted. Not physically, but mentally.

Javier had been looking at you for far too long, and Steve could taste the yearning and the tension that lingered around the office when Peña looked at you. It was maddening, and Steve had no idea how Peña had managed this long without jumping you. After all, he never seemed to have a problem getting a woman’s attention and keeping it. So, why were you so different?

And the worst part of this whole circus is that you were so blissfully unaware of it. It made Steve’s mouth foam with rage.

When he told Connie over the phone, the previous night, what you had said to him and how you had confessed to being attracted to both men, she actually convinced him to talk to Javi on your behalf. Because Connie knew you, and she knew you would just shut up about it, guard it as if you were a dragon with a treasure, never say a thing, and suffer in silence until your feelings went away. And if they didn’t. Too bad. Steve hadn’t wanted to get involved. After all, you were an adult, and Javier was an adult. You should be able to sort these things out yourself. But alas, that had not happened. And if Steve didn’t do something about it, it was going to get out of hand, quickly.

So when you got up from your desk and got out of the office, Steve walked to Javier and slammed his hand on a pile of files that Javier was almost hiding behind.

“Yes, Murphy, how can I help you?” Peña drawled, trying to keep his voice as even and unaffected as possible.

“Don’t give me that innocent bullshit, Peña,” Steve growled, “I’m so sick of you.”

“What could I have possibly done now?” Javier huffed, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. He figured that if he played dumb, Steve would go away.

Alas.

“You, and her,” Steve said, emphasizing his point by jabbing his finger in the direction of the door you had just walked out of, “There’s something between the two of you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Javier decided not to answer that. Instead he just took a puff of his cigarette and stared at Steve, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious Peña, stop playing coy. This is starting to affect your working relationship, and I’m getting sick of it,” Steve grumbled, “Do something about it. Now.”

It took a few moments of silence, but Javier finally decided to concede to Steve. Truth was, Javier’s head was full of thoughts. Full of you. Truth be told, getting infatuated with you was just a matter of time.

You were just… frustratingly attractive, incredibly strong and so damn smart. A dangerous combination, you were almost perfect. And that, scared the shit out of him. It had been a long time since Javier felt like that; he didn’t like the vulnerability of it all, he didn’t like how it was way too apparent that whatever you did, for small that it was, affected him in some way. He didn’t like the fact that he wanted to be with you all the time, see you all the time, talk to you all the time. He wanted to protect you all the time even when he knew you could perfectly protect yourself. And he had been feeling like that for months.

Javier interpreted that as karma, getting so madly, deeply into you and getting absolutely nothing in return. Until Steve chimed in, nosy as ever, to speak about something that was clear as a water drop but he just kept denying from himself.

He replayed what Steve had told him while he puffed from his cigarette and for a split second, and let himself smile at the words of his partner.

Steve was right. He was aware of how much he had been missing and how affected his job seemed to be because of how much time he spent thinking about you. It was so unlike him, and it was very unprofessional. But he just couldn’t help it.

You and your strikingly beautiful being. You letting him hold you close. You, with your hands on him. You and how sweet your lips must taste. You and how your naked body must look in the dimmed lights of his bedroom. Fuck.

So he decided, after his partner all but scolded him about being too dumb to realize, that he was going to face you and just… make things happen.

Steve smiled to himself while looking down at a file when Javier stood up from his own desk and walked out of the office.

“Attaboy,” he mumbled to himself.

**Scene Break 2**

You weren’t sure what it was, but suddenly the air in that bullpen had become oppressive, and you just needed to get out. Well, frankly...you weren’t stupid. You knew what was causing you to feel this way. It was stupid Steve and his stupid way of being right all the time, how the fuck did he do that? At some point, you were going to have to tell Javier (and possibly Carrillo, as well) how you felt, but if you could put it off for longer, you were absolutely going to do so.

You sat on the concrete wall bordering the police base, observing quietly as the citizens of Medellín went about their day, getting lunch and catching up with their colleagues. There was a man selling arepas just a few feet from you, and the smell was amazing. But no matter how tantalizing the scent was, you just couldn’t bring yourself to eat. All you needed was some air. Yeah, that’s what you needed. You’d be fine after a few moments.

Unfortunately, your peace wasn’t to last long, and as you were soon to discover, your observational skills would need a check up because Colonel Horacio Carrillo himself had just plopped himself next to you, and you hadn’t even noticed. Carrillo, for his part, waited a few moments before clearing his throat, startling you from your thoughts, and successfully getting your attention.

Ah shit.

One of the exact men that you didn’t want to deal with right now was sitting right next to you.

Joy.

“Those arepas look fantastic,” he remarked in that lovely accent you really liked, “Do you want one?”

You shook your head.

“No thank you,” you mumbled, “I’m fine.”

Carrillo hummed.

“I’m sure we could find something else if you would prefer. There’s all kinds of food in Medellín,” he replied. But you refused again.

“No, really, I’m fine. I don’t want any food,” you said.

Carrillo tilted his head and clasped his hands together, leaning forward slightly. He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk, and if you didn’t know him so well, you would have missed it.

“I see,” he observed, amusedly, “So, then, Agent. What do you want?”

You frowned, and furrowed your eyebrows. What...what was he doing?

“I–I don’t want anything,” you replied, completely flabbergasted.

“Hmmm,” Carrillo began, “I don’t believe you. I think you want something.”

You raised your eyebrows at that. You’d never known the Colonel to be so bold.

“I want Escobar dead,” you quipped, “Same as you, I suppose.”

“Ah yes, I certainly want that,” Carrillo agreed, “But I want something else. Something that I imagine might be the same as you.”

You scratched the back of your neck, nervously, not sure where this was going.

“All right, Colonel, I’ll bite. What is it that you want?” you questioned.

Carrillo adjusted his position on the wall, turning so that he was facing you squarely. He looked you straight in the eyes before taking a deep breath, as if he was working up the courage to say something.

“You.”

You felt the air leave your lungs, Carrillo’s face was a puzzle laid before you but before you could say something else, you heard a deep, timbered voice calling your name.

You reluctantly turned around and saw Peña walking up to the both of you, you felt Carrillo shift beside you and let out a sigh, as if he knew something like that would happen.

“I was looking for you,” Javier mumbled, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear but you.

“So, you found me,” your voice was shaky after the Colonel’s admission, and you tried to control it “What?”

“Can we–uh–talk?” he said, and you looked back at Carrillo.

“Can it wait?” you pleaded.

“No,” Javier declared.

“I think I know what this is about,” Carrillo announced, and you frowned at him, asking with your eyes for him to elaborate. But he just stayed quiet, looking between you and Peña.

“What do you mean?” Javier huffed, “This is a private conversation that I need to have with her.”

“I think we all need to have this conversation,” Carrillo mumbled, looking at the ground for half a second before returning his gaze to you and Javier.

“What are you two on?” you asked, frantically, “I am so confused.”

Javier glanced at the Colonel, at the way he was all but shifting around like a nervous kid. He realized Carrillo moved like he was hiding something, like he had a secret he so wanted to confess.

“Do you know something?” Javier questioned him, furrowing his brow. The Colonel turned to study him and there was a small moment in which they said nothing, and their eyes just locked.

And there, Javier saw him, as he was. Colonel Horacio Carrillo was an honorable man, everyone knew that, but as he was honorable he was dark, and Javier had a small suspicion of what he knew and was badly hiding.

Javier felt himself smirk at the man and Carrillo smirked back, and Javi knew it. Because he never misses things like that. For him is like having a sixth sense, somehow enhanced by his career and his experience. He just knows. Javier had never been indifferent to men. After all, being honest with himself, he had a little crush on Steve before he saw the wedding band. And Carrillo was… just his type. He never thought he would have the chance to even get closer to the Colonel like that. In the end, the time was not right and he was quite sure Carrillo wasn’t like that.

Clearly, he had been mistaken.

“Okay you two, I’ve had enough,” you grumbled, “What is going on? I’m sick of these games.”

“This is not a game,” Carrillo said, finally looking at you, you felt your frown get deeper.

“Then what is it?” you demanded.

Javier shrugged and took one last look at Carrillo, as if to confirm his consent, and replied.

“An arrangement,” he deadpanned, “With both of us.”

“If you want it,” Carrillo added, quickly.

You shot up from the wall you were sitting on and turned to glare at both of them. Javier put his hands on his waist and leaned on a leg, and Carrillo stood up as well, clasped hands in front of him, just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

Javier glanced nervously at Carrillo from the corner of his eye, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. I hope this is gonna go how you were planning, Carrillo, he thought, Because if it doesn’t and she refuses to speak to me again after this...I swear to god–

“Where did you get this idea?” you blabbered, feeling the sting of nervousness and insecurity settling into your stomach. Along with something else in your lower belly you refused to acknowledge at all.

Javier sighed, and shook his head.

“Steve Murphy has a big mouth,” he murmured.

“Dios mío,” you exclaimed, “He told you both?”

“Well, he told me,” Javier said, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t know about our Colonel over here.”

Now it was Carrillo’s turn to look sheepish.

“No, he didn’t say anything to me,” Carrillo admitted, “I overheard the two of you talking the other day.”

“You eavesdropped on me?” you gasped, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Is nothing I say private?”

Carrillo at least had the grace to look ashamed.

“It was an accident,” he tried to assure you, “But–I don’t regret listening in. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you.”

You scrubbed your face with your hands, trying to figure out what you were going to do. It wasn’t that you were–unhappy–more so embarrassed. You’d been carrying this secret for a long time now, and to have it so out in the open made you feel more exposed than ever. And you hated the feeling.

“I’m gonna need a minute,” you said, “Can we talk about this later? I need some space.”

Without waiting for a response, you briskly walked away from the police base and in the direction of the city. You weren’t sure where you were going or when you were going to be back. All that you knew was that your privacy had been massively violated, and you needed some space to collect yourself. Alone. And perhaps when you had calmed down, you could think about Carrillo and Peña’s proposal, like a functioning adult. But right now, you were too embarrassed (and aroused, let’s be real), to think straight.

Javier turned aside to look at Carrillo when your figure had disappeared into the city.

“So,” Javier broke the not-so-awkward silence, “Are you okay with this?”

Carrillo huffed at the question and glanced at the agent, noticing in him things he hadn't noticed before.

“Are you?”

Javier felt his stomach drop at the Colonel’s question… interesting.

“I’m all in,” he replied, smirking at Carrillo.

“Yo también.”

**Scene Break 3**

It was later in the afternoon by the time you had calmed down enough to return to work. You couldn’t believe what had happened today. You absolutely wanted to smack Steve. What you had told him was in confidence, and he had broken that trust. But you couldn’t deny that you were happy with the result. The idea of having even just one of those two men was enough to get you going, but both?

Men like them?

The pool of arousal was already forming in between your legs.

You could not deny how much you had wanted this, and how much you had been dreaming about it. And for a very long time. For god’s sake, you had lost sleep over this shit. It made you feel dirty, filthy, unprofessional. But you just couldn’t help it. You’d done a decent enough job of keeping your feelings in check, but now the cat was out of the bag.

And not only did these two men know how you felt. Apparently, they felt the same way. And for some godforsaken reason, they wanted you.

Were you really going to say no to an opportunity like that? Were you truly that stupid? No matter how much you were angry with Steve.

Connie would lose her shit when you'd call her to tell her about her husband’s work.

You walked into the bullpen and saw the office door opened, the first thing you saw was Javier’s face buried inside a file, his posture rigid and his hands grasping at the folder as if it were a lifeline.

He looked up and his eyes went wide when he saw you walk in.

But then you saw Murphy, sitting like nothing had happened and you saw red. You rushed at him and without a word your hand flew and you smacked him on the back of the head.

“What the fuck?” he yelled, and you heard Javier laughing behind you.

“You asshole,” you hissed, “Exactly what made you think it was a good idea to tell him? I trusted you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Excuse me,” Steve groaned, rubbing the back of his head, “I did you a fucking favor. I got tired of hanging around with you two idiots, just looking at each other and not saying shit.”

“You should not have done that,” you growled, fixing him with what you hoped was your most intimidating glare.

“Perhaps not,” Steve shrugged, “But I don’t regret it.”

“Can I–say something?” Javier asked behind you.

“No. Shut up.” you hissed without looking back at him.

“You do something like this again, and I’ll kill you,” you threatened Steve before storming out of the base, and into the parking lot. You sat in the driver’s seat of your car and banged your head against the steering wheel. You had had every intention of finding Peña and Carrillo and taking them up on their offer, but now all feelings of boldness had been once again replaced by shame and embarrassment. No doubt you were the talk of the police base, what with your massive crush on two of your colleagues.

Although you knew it was irrational, you couldn’t help but feel as though Carrillo and Peña were making fun of you. You knew it was stupid. Both of them were grown-ass men. They wouldn’t be so immature. If they didn’t like you at all, they would have just left you alone. But you just couldn’t help the raging insecurity you were feeling. Perhaps if you had actually told both of them, directly, how you felt, rather than let Steve Murphy do the hard work, then maybe you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

But that was all water under the bridge now, you supposed.

Later that night, you were heating up a pitiful TV-dinner in your apartment, not feeling up to eating, but you needed something, when your phone rang. You froze with the fork halfway to your mouth. There were only a handful of people who had your landline number, and even then, only a few of those people would have the guts to actually call it. This wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

Sighing, you trudged over to the phone and lifted the receiver to your ear.

“¿Sí?” you asked, quietly, and you heard the low voice of Colonel Carrillo on the other end.

“It’s me,” he said softly, “You left work rather abruptly. I called to see if you were fine.”

“As fine as I can be, given the circumstances,” you grumbled.

“I’m sorry that things transpired the way they did, truly,” Carrillo mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic, “But I meant it when I said I don’t regret finding out.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you snarked, “You’re not the one whose colleague breached her trust.”

There was a pause before Carrillo spoke again.

“Do you regret it?”

Now it was your turn to pause, contemplating your words and how you would respond. You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, you wanted to make it clear that you weren’t pleased with the means---even if the end was fantastic.

“I regret how this started,” you replied, slowly, not trusting yourself to say anything further.

Carrillo hummed over the line, contemplating your words.

“I can’t blame you for that,” he said, “But forget about Steve for a moment, please. Have you thought about it?”

You inhaled and held your breath for ten counts, trying to calm down your racing heart. You couldn’t deny that just the mere thought of being in the same room with these two men, especially in a non-platonic setting, was difficult for you.

“I think you know the answer to that, Colonel. You aren’t stupid,” you quipped, “Have you discussed this with Peña? I must admit, I am surprised at you both. This doesn’t seem like something either of you would be interested in.”

“We’ve discussed this, absolutely,” Carrillo said, recalling the deeper conversation he had with Peña earlier that day after you had slapped Steve, “I think we’ve both surprised ourselves, if I’m being honest. But if the attraction is there, it’s there. But I want you to know, there is no pressure. This only goes as far as you want it to go.”

You frowned at that.

“What do you mean?” you pressed.

“Querida,” he sighed, “What happens between the three of us–well–Peña and I know where we stand–it’s up to you now. If you don’t want this, then just say the word. We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”

You took a shuddering breath and tried to respond as best as you can.

“I–”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Carrillo interrupted gently, “Think about it. Make sure it’s what you want. Then you can let us know.”

“I–ok,” you stuttered, for lack of a better response.

“I should leave you to your evening. But think about it, and let me know what you decide ,” Carrillo said, “Have a good night, querida.”

“Sure, good night, Colonel,” you mumbled, hearing the click on the other end, indicating that Carrillo had hung up.

You passed the rest of the evening in relative silence, going about your mundane business with an extra air of heaviness. Slowly you could feel the embarrassment from the day give way to desire. As you lay by yourself in your bed, clutching at your pillow, you couldn’t help the acute sense of loneliness that you felt. After all, you hadn’t really had anyone before you came to Colombia, and your job here certainly killed whatever chance of having a relationship you might have had. It was why you had so easily fallen for both of your colleagues.

You were lonely. And they were lonely too. But it wasn’t just out of loneliness. You’d seen what Peña was like when he just wanted to have a warm body next to him. Just as it had taken courage for you to confess how you felt to Steve, it must have taken just as much strength for Carrillo and Peña to admit the same to you. This wasn’t going to be a one time thing–born out of isolation and tragedy–it would be something much more meaningful than that. You could feel it.

You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was just past midnight. Although you knew that Carrillo usually stayed up late, you didn’t want to bother him, so you dialed the number of the only other person who you knew would be up this late.

“Hello?” Javier Peña gruffed on the other end, clearly annoyed at having been woken up.

“Javier, it’s me,” you said, by way of greeting. You heard some rustling of bedsheets, no doubt Javier was fully awake now.

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern coloring his tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just–I’ve thought about your offer. Yours and Carrillo’s.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone.

“And what do you say, cariño?” he questioned, hope ringing in his voice.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Yes. I’m saying yes.”

**Scene Break 4**

You sat inside Javier’s car, silently, as he drove the two of you through the streets of Medellín towards Carrillo’s address. It was a Friday–exactly a week from when Carrillo had overheard you talking to Steve, and you were completely floored at how your life had changed that fast. You didn’t regret anything though, not one bit.

You were nervous though. Having one of these men was enough to make you swoon, but both? You weren’t sure what was going to happen. All you knew is that it would be a fantastic night. You just hoped that you could keep up.

A hand on your knee brought you back to the present, and you glanced over to see that Javier was eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

“Relax, cariño,” he ordered, “It’s just us.”

You laughed.

“I know, that’s what I’m worried about,” you said, jokingly. But Javier wasn’t having it.

“Why would that make you nervous?” he asked, turning to face you when you had stopped for a red light.

“You two are my friends and colleagues,” you stated, “I don’t–want to disappoint you. Especially since we will have to go back to work after the weekend.”

Javier shook his head and pressed down harder on the accelerator, hoping that if he got you to Carrillo’s place faster, you’d stop your fatalistic thoughts.

“None of that,” he grumbled, shutting down your line of thinking as quickly as he could, “What happens between us tonight stays between us. That’s it. No pressure or expectations. Just enjoy yourself, okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting yourself to speak. And thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything because you and Javier finally pulled up in front of Carrillo’s house. It was a much larger property than you had expected, with a beautifully-kept lawn and a mango tree just at the front of the house. It was a stunning place to live, and the thought that Carrillo had been staying there alone, with nobody to share it with, for the past several months just left you heartbroken.

Well. That was likely about to change tonight.

“You’re still sure, cariño?” Javier asked, taking your hand in his and staring at your knuckles, “If you’ve changed your mind, I can drive you back now. No questions asked.”

You shook your head.

“I’m completely sure, Javi. Don’t worry,” you assured him, and Javier nodded.

“Bueno,” he mumbled, “Let’s go.” And with that, the two of you walked up the path to Carrillo’s front door and rang the bell. Carrillo answered almost immediately, face relaxing at the sight of you.

“I hope you didn’t have too much trouble finding the place,” he greeted, stepping back to allow the two of you to enter his house.

“I have some wine if you would like,” Carrillo suggested, leading you and Javier into the kitchen after the two of you had kicked off your shoes.

Carrillo walked straight to the fridge and took out what appeared to be a pretty expensive brand of wine, but neither you nor Javier said anything in regards to it. Instead, you both sat down and exchanged a series of fugitive glances at each other.

You thought you needed the wine, the bitter, strong taste of alcohol to run through your veins in order to be able to process the moment in its entirety. But suddenly, as you glared at both Javier and Carrillo, there was no need for anything else. No liquid distraction to be drunk beforehand, no ridiculous and meaningless pleasantries or comfort words. You knew those men. You trusted them with your life every day when you went out there on the streets, and you trusted them just as much now. Their mere presence was sufficient to relax you and ease the tension, although you thought they would both agree that the tension was thicker than you could’ve imagined.

“I trust you both, and I care about you both, so damn much.”

It came out of the blue; you weren’t even sure you thought about it in your mind, and yet you said it nonetheless, standing up. Both of them seemed a little surprised by your impromptu confession, but patiently waited for your continuation, if there was any to begin with.

“What I mean is… why make this harder on ourselves? Why bother with small talk and awkward conversations when we can just… do it, enjoy the night?”

Javier was the first one who smirked. And of course he would, he was probably used to a lot of those moments, or similar ones, and had almost no issue baring it all, you thought. You swore, for a brief, almost too rushed moment, that you saw Carrillo hesitate with saying something and averting his eyes from both you and Javier, but you brushed it off. Instead, he looked tall and mighty at you, as his official position required, and smiled gallantly at you.

“You are the one in charge tonight,” he told you.

Simple, yet effective.

From the moment you heard that sentence, it did something to your ego. It gave you an unexpected boost of confidence, it sparked a desire, a flame so bright and hot you wouldn’t have believed it to be true in any other situation.

You took a few steps closer to Carrillo, all the while having Javier watch the scene unfold from the kitchen entrance. He stood up when you did, out of some long-forgotten courtesy that he didn’t used to care about anymore, and he just knew where it was all headed. He recognized the look in your eyes, the longing on your face. He knew what it meant, how much it must’ve consumed you, and he felt oddly enticed and captivated by it.

Just as swiftly as the night began, Carrillo’s hands rested on your waist while he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he only brought you closer to him; his lips tasted surprisingly sweet, with just a faint tint of nicotine. Your chest was pressed against his, warm clothed skin found yours and you shivered against him. His hands gripped your waist as if saying farewell to them and he slid them up your body. You could feel Peña’s eyes fixed in your bodies, staring at the scene, and when the Colonel broke the kiss to nibble at your neck, you opened your eyes to see him next to you; half-lidded brown deep eyes, an opened bottle of wine in one hand and his lower lip in the other. Your skin was burning, and you had barely been touched.

You smiled at him when Carrillo took your jacket off, Peña smirked and took a sip of wine directly from the bottle, careless about any pleasantries.

Carrillo’s wet tongue latched softly at your pulse point and ripped a low moan out of you, you closed your eyes again when his hands gripped your ass over the fabric of your jeans.

“Colonel, please,” you muttered, sighing as you felt his large hands had fun with your flesh and grip it after hearing the way you called him.

“Words, querida” he just replied, putting some distance between your wet skin and his lips.

“More,” you bit your lip, Carrillo smirked at you and you noticed the way his eyes darkened with desire in front of you. He turned to look at Javier, who was still standing at the kitchen entrance, palming his erection over his jeans.

“Bring that,” Carrillo said, pointing at the bottle, then slid his hand from your ass to the small of your back and guided you towards the staircase.

Between your hazed eyes and the cloud of lust that had begun to invade your mind you looked around Carrillo’s space and wondered how a man like him could live in a place that big. You smiled to yourself when he put his hand on the small of your back and soon enough Peña caught up to you, you felt his ever so imposing presence behind you.

Carrillo opened the door to the bedroom and pushed you softly inside.

You didn’t even have time to take your surroundings in when you felt a pair of warm hands find your hips and a set of lips grazing at your earlobe. Your eyes closed by themselves and the sweet, strong smell of Javier’s cologne invaded your nostrils as he pulled your back flush against his chest.

“Sh–shit,” you let out, half a whisper, half a moan, when you felt Carrillo’s hands roam around your waist.

You were losing yourself between the touch of the two of them, you shivered when Carrillo cupped your breast as Javier nibbled at the skin of your neck, from behind, you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to do whatever–the–fuck he pleased with your neck.

“Mírate, chiquita,” Carrillo whispered, you felt his breath on your lips and when you re-opened your eyes you saw him inches away from your face “you’re already wrecked.”

You felt Javier chuckling against your flushed skin, and you bit your lower lip, bringing a hand to the Colonel’s nape to pull him closer and kiss him again.

One of Javier’s hands found itself under your shirt, his mouth was moving and his other hand pulled softly at your shirt over your shoulder to find more skin to lick and kiss. Carrillo found the hem of your shirt and broke the kiss to look at you, as if asking for permission and reassurance that you wanted what he wanted. Javier watched the silent exchange and smirked against the skin of your shoulder, he gave it a last brush of his mustache and a last kiss before you nodded to the Colonel and he helped you out of the garment.

Carrillo smiled to himself when he saw what you’ve been hiding under it, a black, only-lace bra that showed the shade of your nipples, you bit your lip again when you took in his disheveled figure, his notorious erection under his military green pants that made the pool between your legs grow.

“How are you this fucking beautiful?” Javier muttered behind you, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses behind your ear to your nape.

Your breath hitched when Carrillo kneeled in front of you and you felt your chest heaving with desire when his large fingers dextrely unbuttoned your jeans and his thumbs hooked on the hem. He looked at you again and you nodded for a second time. Javier looked over your shoulder at the Colonel slowly sliding your jeans off your hips then your legs and he left his hands roam around the now naked skin of your torso. Your hands landed on the back of his head, and he took the hint, attacking the skin of your neck once again.

Carrillo threw your jeans away once he helped you out of them and you moaned loudly when his lips grazed against your knee. One of your hands dropped to grab Carrillo’s head as his trail of kisses moved up, up, up until he reached the soft skin where your thigh and your hip joined. You were sure he could smell your arousal, you were sure he could feel it at that point and you didn’t care, for once you let yourself only feel and let all thought out of your mind while you felt two mouths, two men, take care of you.

There was no hesitation from Javier’s side as his fingers gently grazed up your spine, expertly unclasping your bra, taking in the image of the straps loosening on your smooth skin. He was damn near panting at the mere sight, but he had to remind himself that that was only the tip of the iceberg. The moans you were letting escape your mouth as Carrillo pressed gentle kisses on your inner thighs aided him in no way. He felt himself get harder and harder and fought off raging instincts to turn that moment into another one of his one-night stands.

Javier made sure he tasted your skin while he took the straps from both sides between his fingers and slid them off your shoulders, he felt you shivering under his hands and over Horacio’s mouth and you could feel the smirk on your skin, once the bra came off, Javier took your chin and moved your head to face him, he pressed his mouth on yours, his tongue hungry for your scent, invading your cavities and feeling your warmth rush through his body with the speed of light. Everything about your scent was intoxicating and consuming, and ever so addicting that he could barely find it in himself to stop.

But then his calloused hands found your breasts and oh–oh, shit.

That first squeeze, tantalizingly slow and powerful, took you out completely. You gasped, and you weren’t sure if it was Horacio’s warm breath in between your legs or Javier fondling your breasts, but you embraced the overwhelming effect both had on you. Javier squeezed again, and moved around to locate the sweet torture of his mouth onto your nipples, taking one in his mouth whilst his thumb moved over the other one, twisting it in between his fingers as he nibbled at your skin. His tongue left a glistening trail as he peppered kisses in between your breasts, moving up your sternum, collarbones and neck and focusing on one particular spot that seemed to drive you wild. So much so that you reached behind your back to grab a handful of his hair, pull him in closer however you could.

“Lay her down, Peña,” Carrillo cooed, and the man followed suit.

You saw the Colonel untuck his shirt and take it off while Javier kneeled on the bed and helped you lay down on it, the softness of the sheets embraced you and the coldness made you whimper softly.

It was a premiere for him to witness Javier Peña, of all people, being so submissive and attentive, but he had other matters to focus on at the moment. His mouth left your already glistening and plump lips to grab the bottle of wine, your eyes followed him as you felt Carrillo’s hands spread your legs open and kiss the inside of your legs again, Javier came back to the bed and kneeled next to you, his hand gripping the bottle and the other cupping your face, he smiled softly at you and took a sip from the bottle; you moaned when Carrillo’s hands worked to get you out of your lace panties and Javier leaned down to you, the hand that cupped your face moved to your chin and he opened your mouth with his thumb, letting the wine pour from his mouth to yours, the wine was warm and it tasted sweet, when you closed your mouth and swallowed, Javier’s thumb grazed your lips and you heard a hard pant next to you, you turned to see Carrillo’s lusted face, you gave him a soft smile and he all but threw himself to you, kissing your mound, you moaned again and Javier leaned back, bringing the chilled bottle closer to your body, letting the tip of it graze against your warm skin, between the cold sensation and Carrillo’s lips tasting you, you were about to scream, Javier looked at you, smirked and pour some of the wine all over your breasts and abdomen, immediately reaching down on your again to lick the liquid off. A bit of the wine had traveled down your abdomen to your lower belly and found its way into Carrillos mouth, the feeling of the cold wine and their tongues made you growl. You had two pairs of equally sinful and skilled lips teasing and licking deliciously well over your exposed skin, and you had half of mind to grab either one of them and get to business. You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so aroused, but it was all a masterful torture and all for a good time. If anyone else was allowed to have their downtime, why shouldn’t you?

It was somewhat futile to even attempt to please either one of the men in return; their own pleasure seemed to be revolving around yours and they were both doing such an incredible job out of it that you had a hard time trying to keep track of where did the waves of pleasure come from anymore. It was all one big tsunami of feelings, from overstimulation to lust and appreciation and love in some form.

Carrillo continued his ministrations while Javier licked the remains of the wine from your body, his tongue traveled to your sternum and he took a nipple on his mouth ever so briefly, then he stood up and quickly undressed, not bothering to be cool about it, he just threw his clothes to the floor while he looked at Horacio have the time of his life between your legs, you let out soft moans and whispers and while Javier took off his jeans he saw your hand grip Carrillo’s hair as your hips hatched against the Colonel’s face. You felt his tongue flicking your clit and he pushed a thick finger inside you, curling it around, building you up and throwing you off the cliff with the same force he had put you there. You came on his mouth with his name on yours.

As you laid on the bed, legs spread for Carrillo as he helped you ride off your orgasm, Javier kneeled back on the bed next to your face, his hand snaked its way around your neck, gently grabbing both sides and helping you take his erection in your mouth, which you were more than happy to do. You could tell he was somewhat tensed: he was doing his absolute best to control his motions and to keep it at a normal rhythm, but the more you involuntarily groaned as Carrillo began to glide his tongue across your slit once again, building up your second climax, the more Javier was slowly losing bits and pieces of himself. Within seconds, you could just tell you weren’t gonna last long, but neither would Javier as he picked up the face and jerked his hips forward more and more, thus obliging you to take more of him in. You couldn’t explain it, nor find any logic behind the action itself, but you swore you felt his release in Javier’s impatient thrusts and, sure enough, mere seconds later, he finally came, grunting as ropes of his seed dripped down your jaw.

Your moans returned when Carrillo added two fingers to his mouthy torture over your clit, and you felt like you could explode. Not long after that all-too familiar gut feeling, that almost persistent desire to burn, you came for a second time, eager to jerk your hips forward and meet as much as you could of Carrillo’s tongue, but this time, the man’s grip over your thighs was impossible to break. He held you in place ever so expertly and ate you out like you were his favorite five course meal, soaking up every ounce of juice that you provided him with.

You temporarily lost feeling in your arms as you tried to raise them to make at least Javier pay attention, but words also failed to leave your abused mouth.

“Que buena chica,” Carrillo said from somewhere down below. (What a good girl.)

Your brain didn’t register what he said properly. All you could feel was a fire so intense, so vivid, you nearly saw stars. And something told you that was only the beginning.

And you were proven right.

In the momentary lack of physical touch, you thought about the moment itself, having two of the strongest, most desirable men eager to please you–simultaneously, might you add–and the more you thought about it, the more it threw you off completely. Why? You weren’t really sure. Perhaps it was the idea in the back of your mind that you wouldn’t have thought yourself capable of that. Or them, really. The activity hadn’t been exactly on your to-do list over the past few years and yet now, you couldn’t have thought of a better way to figure out your feelings for them, and to spare time.

The freshly acquired ecstasy was not only enthralling, but efficient as well.

After your second orgasm at Horacio’s ministrations you saw him between your lusted, narrowed eyes, undress completely, Javier was next to you, trailing his fingers up and down your wet torso–wet with wine and his saliva, what a fucking thought– while the both of you saw Carrillo take the remains of his clothes off and took in his lean figure, Javier smirked when he saw him whole and thought to himself the things he would do to the man if he had the time.

Javier wrapped his arms around your waist and helped you roll over to the side to face him, licking his bottom lip in the process and made sure you watched as he did so. He had been eyeing you up and down the entire day, whether clothed or not, and every glance he threw you, ever so dark and desirable, filled with subtext and desire, made you weaker and weaker, just like Carrillo’s touches were.

You reached his face and took his lips in yours, his tongue slid inside your mouth and as he explored the insides and his hand grabbed fistfuls of your ass, you felt the bed shifting behind you, and another hand snaked from behind and found your breast, you were being pressed against and between two bodies and the wam of them was driving you insane, when Carrillo’s fingers played with your nipple you bucked your hips forward and you felt Javier’s erection graze at your lower belly. Javier moved his hand from your ass to your thigh and then he let it slide to your pussy, you bucked your hips backwards and you felt Carrillo’s erection graze at your ass.

“How are you still this wet, bonita?” Javier asked, while his fingers found themselves between your lips.

“Don’t you know the answer by now, Javi?” you muttered, feeling the way Carrillo’s mouth found your shoulders.

You glanced at him and Carrillo the same way Javier looked at you and you understood in an instant why he always preferred to be that way. It was enticing, addicting and sinful, just the way he was.

And by the looks of it, Colonel Horacio Carrillo was no saint either.

“How do you want this to go, chiquita?” Horacio asked behind you as you moved your leg up to allow Javier’s fingers to find a way inside you.

You sighed. Why was he asking you that question when you weren’t even sure something like this would happen? For a brief, brief second you wanted to hide, just grab your clothes and hide. But you found yourself sandwiched between the men that you most desired and you just couldn’t waste this opportunity for the life of you.

So you rummaged around your deepest, filthiest fantasies you’ve had when everything had just been a sinful dream, a product of your lascive thoughts giving into what you catalogued as your darkest secrets and desires and you found one you couldn’t stop think about after it had given you a stars–behind–the–eyes orgasm.

“I want both,” you muttered, feeling the way both men groaned at your sides, “both inside me, please.”

“You sure?” Javier asked, pulling out his fingers from your cunt and looking at the way they glistened, you nodded.

“Words, chiquita,” Horacio said and you turned to see him, he leaned down and stole a short, deep kiss.

“I’m a hundred percent sure,” you murmured against the Colonel’s lips.

“Let’s get you ready, then,” Javier whispered on your neck and you sighed when his fingers slid back into your slit, you closed your eyes when Horacio played your nipples around his fingers and then his hand roamed down your body, finding their way to your pussy.

“Déjame entrar,” Horacio said under his breath, Javier stopped moving his fingers inside you and you squeezed your eyes tighter when Carrillo slid two more fingers inside your cunt.

“Fu–fuck, fuck,” you gasped, Javier let open mouthed kisses around your face and the skin of your neck within reach while your walls tightened around their thick fingers.

“You okay?” Javier asked and you nodded a few times before your body relaxed and got used to the intrusion.

“Mo–move,” you pleaded, feeling Horacio’s mouth nibbling at your shoulder and your neck.

Javier and Horacio moved their fingers at the same time inside you, looking at each other as if marking a dancing pace. You didn’t know what to do with yourself as they moved in and out and curled their fingers in all directions inside you, making you moan and whimper and open up more for them as they somehow found an identical pace to torture you with.

“Eso, eso nena, lo estás haciendo muy bien,” Carrillo praised behind you, feeling the way your walls were giving into the attention and dilating around their fingers (That’s it baby, you’re doing great)

“Más,” you pleaded, rolling your hips against their hands “Más, más,”

They grinned at each other, Javier’s eyes landed on your face and took in the way your features quirked in pure pleasure. Their fingers moving at the same time, pacing in and out faster. Javier’s mouth landed on your shoulder and Carrillo only took in the lewd noise his and Javier’s fingers were making as they pulled in and out at a murdering pace.

“Oh, sh–shit,” you bit your lip and tried to hide your face inside the crook of Javier’s neck but Horacio pulled you away with his other hand.

“We wanna hear you, querida.” he whispered behind your ear, you shivered again at the feeling of his warm breath and then it became too much, their fingers were covered in your arousal as you spread your legs impossibly wider as your throat began growling and your hands landed on both of them, digging your nails on their flesh. Javier hissed against your shoulder and Carrillo bit the skin of your mouth, both of them throwing you together from the cliff and your body spasmed between them.

“Oh my god, oh shit, fuck!” you screamed between their bodies and they slowed their pace to help you ride down your climax “please, please, fuck me, please,” you let out, almost desperately, eager to feel the same with them inside you. They slid their fingers out of you and you shivered again.

Your body was already a mess, after three powerful orgasms you were panting for air, the only thing you wanted was them inside you, you wanted to feel every ridge and every vein of them, you wanted; you needed to cum around them both.

“What is taking you so long?” you opened your eyes, quite frustrated at the lack of attention to your bodies, but the sight that you took in was otherworldly.

Carrillo had his fingers, his covered–in–your–arousal fingers inside Javier’s mouth.

“Fuck,” you let out, dropping your head on the mattress, looking at the way Javier grabbed Horacio’s wrist to keep his hand on his mouth and lick them clean of you while Horacio’s deep gaze took Javier in with a smirk adorning his face.

Horacio pulled his fingers out with a soft pop and they both looked at you, panting and brushing a nipple with your fingers.

“Next time you’ll have to put on a show for me,” you teased.

“You’re ready?” Javier asked, leaning down to kiss your temple, you looked at Carrillo and smiled at him as he licked his fingers.

“Very,” you replied, softly, your voice was already hoarse because of the moaning and screaming they had pulled out of you, they got comfortable on each of your side and you took a deep breath when Horacio lifted your leg and hooked it on his hip.

Javier was the first one to tease your entrance with the dripping head of his cock, when you felt it sliding up and down your slit you gasped and as he pushed himself inside you you grabbed his arm and licked any part of his skin available for you.

“Oh my god,” you cried out softly.

Javier was having a hard time staying still when your walls were warm and wet around him, his hands roamed around your body as Carrillo lined himself with you and him as well and then he pushed.

“Holy fucking shit,” you had close your eyes at the feeling of Horacio making his way inside of you, you breathed and panted and tried so hard to relaxe but they were thicker than their fingers and your pussy was clenching already around them. Javier took your hand and you squeezed his as both of them bottomed up inside you.

Horacio put his hands over the entanglement of yours and Javi’s and the three of you gasped and panted until your body stopped squirming between them and your walls stopped closing themselves at the feeling of two thick cocks making their way inside.

Javier had to close his eyes as well when he felt how your cunt clenched him tight closer to Horacio and he felt himself throb inside you, when he opened his eyes he saw you, open mouthed gasps leaving your body as it got used to being that full, and then his eyes traveled to Horacio, that buried himself in the crook of your neck, he supposed he was feeling the same way as him, trapped in a oh–so–tight hole with him.

“Move, move, move,” you all but begged, the initial sting of being filled like that disappearing and being replaced with the darkest, deepest, hottest desire you had ever felt, “fu–fucking move already!”

Horacio smirked against the skin of your neck at your demand and moved slightly to look at Javier, who nodded once and then, murdering pleasure; Javier pulled out and as he was thrusting slowly back in, Horacio pulled out and moved in as Javier moved out and you gasped and the air in your lungs left you for the time being as your cunt was filled with the two men you wanted the most.

It was pleasure delivered in a delicious swing of two hips rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth into you, making you impossibly wetter, incredibly hornier, and way too lost in the haze to even care about anything else.

The way that they were fucking you was shameless, the noises were lewd and your moans invaded the room as soon as they picked up the pace and kept driving into you at the same pace but in different directions.

Four hands caressed your body, two sets of lips nibbled at your skin, two tongues tasted the salty sheet of sweat that had covered your body, two thick cocks used your body at their will, making you want to explode; it was an eager combination of feelings and sensations pulled out of the most sensual, lechery, degenerated dreams you could ever had.

“Harder, please, pleasepleaseplease,” you panted out, gripping any skin and limb your hands could find. Your hips started rolling and rolling and rolling with them as they thrusted and pounded inside you.

“Mierda,” Horacio gasped behind you, biting at your skin, making you whimper.

“You’re so fucking tight, so fu–fucking good, baby,” Javier cried out as your pussy clenched around them and you absentmindedly rolled your hips harder.

It was an entanglement of limbs and wet skin, mouths clashing against skin, hands gripping and grabbing available flesh, a swing of bodies and a symphony of licks, kisses, hums, gasps, pants, begs and praises.

“Shit, sh–shit,” you panted harder and clawed at Javier’s arm when you felt the well-familiar tug on your belly of an incoming orgasm, you hummed and moaned and you felt lips in your ear, licking and nibbling at your earlobe, “I’m so close, más,”

Javier gritted his teeth when you demanded more and angled his hips to pound inside harder, Horacio followed his lead, dropping his hand on Javier’s shoulder for leverage. Carrillo’s touch burned in Javier’s skin and he felt his body stiffen with the feeling of his second release.

“Por dios, querida, me estás matando.” Horacio cried out behind you, feeling as well his body falling from the cliff. (My god, you’re killing me)

Javier’s free hand slid through your wet, glistening skin and his finger circled your clit slowly, you screamed his name, your legs buckled and your entire body squirmed with the sea of sensations your body was feeling and flooding with.

“Cum inside me, please, please,” you panted again, feeling the way your legs started to shake as both of their thrust became erratic and Javier’s finger kept circling around your bundle of nerves you exploded around them, gushing out and soaking them as your orgasm made you scream both their names.

“Mierda, querida, mírate,” Horacio grunted before he gave into the lustfulness of it all and came inside you and around Javier.

Once Javi felt the warmness of Carrillo’s release and the way you soaked both of them and his hand, he locked his hips with yours and spilled himself inside as well, gasping out your name.

“Ohmyfuckinggod,” you let out as a sigh, feeling your legs tremble with the strength of your climax.

The three of you stayed like that, joined, for a while. As your bodies relaxed you finally opened your eyes and saw the way Horacio’s hand was resting on Javier’s shoulder, wrapping you as well between them. Both of them breathing heavily, eyes closed, recovering from whatever the hell you had done was called. You sighed and smiled to yourself. If it weren’t for the four orgasms you had and the way your cunt was throbbing after the abuse and dripping with their seed, you wouldn’t believe it was real at all.

“How was that, cariño?” Javier asked, grazing a hand up and down your arm.

“That was–magnificent,” you gushed, not sure how else to describe that positively euphoric experience, “I think–you two have worn me out.”

Horacio chuckled and moved your head to press a kiss to your forehead, and shifted to allow all three of you to lie somewhat comfortably under the covers. You whined when they pulled out of you, solely because at the loss of them, you felt empty.

“Rest now, querida, we’ll be here in the morning,” he whispered into your hair, and that was all the permission you needed.

“We should–” you brought a hand to your mouth to cover a massive yawn, “���do this again sometime.”

After that, it didn’t take long before you had succumbed to the tempting pull of sleep. Horacio sighed and glanced over your shoulder at Javier, who looked rather worn out himself. Tenderly, Horacio reached over and brushed aside a small strand of hair that had fallen in Javi’s face.

“So, same time next week, then?” Horacio asked, giving Javier a lazy smirk, which was returned in kind.

“Yeah,” Javier mumbled, turning over to drape his arm around your way and bury his face in your neck.

“Absolutely.”

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

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[goddesswritings]

Sins of Lovers - Colby Brock | Part One

Title: Sins of Lovers – Part One

Pairing: Colby Brock x Reader

Summary: Y/n has had a crush on Colby since middle school and now it’s ten years later when he comes back into her life. He’s back in the most unexpected way and the most unexpected of things happens between the two of them.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings: Cheating parents, divorce, bullying, horrible parenting, moody Colby. 

This is an old fic that I think fits Colby. Enjoy.

MASTERLIST

********

Colby Brock. A guy that had been your crush since eighth grade, when he’d moved to town. There was something about him that called you back to him time and time again. He was a kind soul with a passion for life. He was someone you felt you could get along with.

But his whole attitude changed when the two of you started high school. He quickly became cold and rude. Quickly climbing the social ladder to join ranks with the most popular students in the school. These were the same people who bullied you and your friends.

It should have ended your crush on him, but it didn’t. The crush only seemed to grow as you watched him from afar. You would catch glimpses of the old him from time to time, which gave you hope that he was still in there.

Sophomore year, his attitude worsened, and he grew meaner to the people around him. News got around that his parents had divorced because his dad had been having an affair behind his mother’s back. It was also known she left town and now he was stuck with his father. He began to join in on the bullying, proving his new standing in school. During this time, you still watched him and searched for glimpses of the old Colby. They were becoming far and few.

Junior year, he started dating Paige Marcus, the IT girl of the school. All the boys wanted her and most of the girls wanted to be her. She was your personal tormentor and she had been for years. She’d taken a dislike to you in fourth grade, when you got the lead in the class play that year. That girl hated you more than anyone thought was possible.

It was a real heartbreak the first time you’d seen Colby and Paige walking hand in hand down the hallway. Your smile had faded, and you wanted to just cry. All over a boy who had never taken a notice to you. Especially because you were just some nerdy girl and he was now popular.

One day, you had been late to school, so you had to rush to get to class. As you ran through the hallway to get to class in time. You ran into Colby, literally. You collided hard with his built form, falling onto your ass.

Colby just simply looked down at you and laughed. “You should watch where you’re going, nerd.” He growled when anger flashed through his eyes.

Paige was hanging on his arm and glaring at you, as per usual. “Yeah loser, you really should watch where you’re going. My boyfriend didn’t need to be inconvenienced by you.” What was she? Colby’s parrot?

Paige laughed and kicked my books across the hallway. Colby laughed along with her, and pain flashed through my chest. “There better not be a next time.” He grumbled before stepping over you and walking away with Paige beside him.

Tears welled up in your eyes, misting up your glasses. You had been so embarrassed that day. You’d hoped it would end your crush on him, but it didn’t.

Senior year, Paige set out to personally destroy you at every chance she got. Colby was by her side each time, laughing along with her. That year was absolute hell for you. There was no escape from Paige’s wrath.

The worst day nearly broke you.

It was the middle of January and it had just snowed, making the town a frosty wasteland. There was a fire drill shortly after third period began and everyone was ushered out to the cold.

You stood with your class minding your own business when Paige approached you, dragging you from the other students. You’d struggled against her, not knowing why she had pulled you away.

“What do you want?” You asked while her nails dug into your arm.

“Just teaching you a lesson.” She said as you stopped next to a huge frozen snow bank.

“Why do you have to do this to me, Paige?” You questioned when she stole your glasses from your face. “No, give those back.” You attempted to reach for them, but the blurriness had taken over. As you were about to grab them, she threw them to her friend, Cassie. So you moved to get them from her, but she was keeping you from being able to retrieve them.

“Give me my glasses!” Your voice was loud because you were angry the snickering bitches had stolen them from you.

Suddenly, Cassie dropped them to the ground and stepped on them. A crunch could be heard as she ruined your chance for clear vision.

“Oops, my bad.” Cassie spoke while she continued to wreck your glasses.

“Stop! Why are you doing this?” Tears had begun to gather in your already blurry eyes.

“Oh look, we have a cry baby on our hands.” Paige taunted before pushing you towards the ground.

Your left hand went out to catch you, making contact with the frozen ground before your body weight came crashing down onto it. A sharp pain shot through your wrist, making you cry out as the pain hit. Paige and Cassie were just cracking up the whole time.

The world was blurry around you as you lifted your hand from the ground. Pain radiated through your arm, starting from your wrist.

“What are you guys doing?” A familiar voice cut through the two girls’ laughter. It was Colby and you were afraid he was here to join in on the torture.

“Oh baby, we were just teaching Y/n a lesson.” Paige answered in a supposedly sweet voice, but anyone could hear the venom hidden in her words.

“By breaking her glasses and hurting her?” He suddenly sounded mad.

“It’s just a joke.” Paige tried to sound like it wasn’t as big problem.

“Hurting people isn’t a joke, Paige!” He was yelling now. Then he was beside you, bending down to your level. “Are you okay, Y/n?” You couldn’t really see him all that clearly, but you could tell he was looking at the wrist you were clutching to your chest.

“No, it hurts a lot.” You whimpered as the pain continued to shoot through your arm.

“Okay, let’s get you to the nurse.” He was gentle as he helped you up from the ground.

“Why are you helping her?” Paige was now frustrated.

“She needs help.” He stated as he bent down to pick up your broken glasses from the ground.

“She’s not one of us, Colby, just leave her alone.”

“No, get out of the way.” He pushed by her and Cassie while leading you towards the school. The fire drill was over at this point.

It was quiet between the two of you as he led you through the hallway full of students who were headed back to class.

“Thank you for helping me.” You said to Colby, in a soft voice.

“Don’t mention it. Paige is a bitch a she needs to be put in her place.” He spoke as you walked into the nurses office. Once again, you had seen a glimpse of the old Colby which only proved to you that he was still in there.

You ended up having to go to the hospital, much to your mothers dismay. It was a serious inconvenience for her to leave work to take you to the hospital. She practically yelled the whole drive there. Your broken glasses were another yelling point for her. At the hospital, it was determined your wrist had been broken, which only angered her further. Not that any of it had been your fault, but she claimed you’d been the one to evoke the girls in the first place. Your mother and you weren’t particularly close.

After that incident, Paige and Colby had called it quits and Paige blamed you, of course. The rest of your senior year was pure hell for you, thanks to Paige and her friends.

You were more than happy to get away from there, luckily. You had received a scholarship to a college three hours away and your father’s house was twenty minutes from it, so you stayed with him. College was lonely for you, though. Because you weren’t all that great at making new friends and your father was always away for work, or on vacation with his new wife. A wife who didn’t like you much either.

Throughout it all, your crush on Colby never once faded. You didn’t know if it ever would.

****

10 years from the time you first began to like Colby, you were returning back to your mother’s house. You’d graduated from college and found a job close to her place, and thankfully she was letting you come back. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be there long before you found a place for yourself. You couldn’t help but to feel nervous about being back at her home. It would bring back memories of high school and Colby, but you highly doubted that he still lived in town.

You pulled into your mother’s driveway, staring at the sage green house in front of you. You’d grown up in this house. Your father had once lived in this house with you. The house held so many memories for you. Good and bad.

Sighing, you finally got out of the car and grabbed your bags from the back. You slowly made your way to the front door and let yourself into the house. Immediately, the aroma of cooking food filled your nostrils. Odd. Your mother hated to cook. You put your bags by the stairs and went to the kitchen. You found your mother standing in front of the stove wearing a blue dress. She never wore dresses.

“Hi mom.” You said getting her attention.

She turned around with a huge smile. “Hello honey. How was the drive back?” She had abandoned the stove to pull you into a hug.

“The drive was fine. What are you dressed up for?”

“Oh honey, I’m so excited. I’ve been seeing this man for a few months now and I’ve invited him and his son to dinner to welcome you home.”

This surprised you. Your mother had never successfully dated since your father left her.

“Yes okay, wow. Congrats mom. I look forward to meeting them.” You honestly were.

“I think you will like him, and his son is about your age and just a sweet young man.”

“Well I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you baby. You should go get settled in. They will be here in about an hour.” She then sent you off towards the stairs. The person you were just talking to was definitely not the person she was before you left for college. You purposely didn’t come home to visit all that often because you were afraid of who you would come home to.

After a quick shower, you sat at your counter to do your makeup. You were happy that you no longer had to wear glasses, because two years ago, your dad had gifted you laser surgery as a sorry for never being around. He still wasn’t around after that though, but you learned to expect that from him. After he left, you weren’t really much of a thought in his head.

You decided on a nice purple dress of yours and a pair of flat black booties for your feet and left your room. When you were halfway down the stairs, the doorbell went off.

“Y/n, could you get that?” Your mother asked from the kitchen.

“Yes.” You said, stopping in front of the door.

You flung open the door, instantly panicking as you saw who was on the other side. Colby Brock beside an older man, that must be his father. Your mom was dating his dad.

“Hello, come on in.” You moved out of the way so they could enter the house. Colby’s eyes were glued to you, which sent chills through your body. Oh god, tonight was going to be hell.

Your mother exited the kitchen and pulled Colby’s dad into a kiss. You grimaced and turned away from the scene. “Y/n sweetie, I want you to meet John Brock and his son Colby.” She introduced the men to you.

“I went to high school with Colby.” Colby was way hotter than you remember him being. He was sexy, tall, and muscular. He had this really sexy dyed blue hair upon his head. The man was perfect.

“Oh really? Do you remember her being so clumsy in high school? Her senior year, she broke both her glasses and wrist all in one day.” Your mother’s words made you blush in pure embarrassment.

“If I remember correctly, Y/n had her glasses stolen before she was pushed into a snowbank. So it wasn’t her fault.” Colby defended you, shocking you.

“Oh, looks like you had a friend in high school, Y/n.” You face grew red now.

“I think dinner is done. I’m going to go set the table.” You quickly dismissed yourself and ran off to the kitchen to grab the plates and silverware. You desperately hoped your mom wasn’t going to keep embarrassing you throughout dinner.

You were setting up the plates when your mother entered the room, followed by Colby and his father. You idly wondered if Colby had a girlfriend.  He had to have a girlfriend with how sexy he was.

“Thank you, Y/n. Can you grab the food for us?” She questioned while already being seated next to John.

“I’ll help you.” Colby said while following you into the kitchen. “How are you doing, Y/n?” He questioned.

You pulled the food from the oven and set it on the stove. “I’m alright. Not too thrilled to be back at my moms, but it’s okay.”

“I know what you mean. Living with my dad is hard. But I haven’t seen him much since he’s been seeing your mom.”

You began to put the other food into bowls for the two of you to carry. “How long have they been dating?” Your mother never said a length of time, only that she was dating someone.

“I’m not too sure, but I know it’s been over six months.”

“She kept it a secret from me.” You concluded. To be honest, it hurt that she kept something that big from you.

“My dad is the same, but he’s been that way all my life. I found out about his affair from someone at school. So that should tell you everything you need to know.”

That was rough. “I’m sorry, Colby.”

He just shrugged. “I’m over it now.” But you didn’t know if he was, but you weren’t going to push him.

The both of you carried the food into the dining room, where your mom and his dad were deep in conversation. The two of them looked up when you entered the room. You placed the food onto the table and took your seats, which happened to be right next to each other. Your mom and his dad were on one side and you and Colby were on the other.

You were still in shock that your crush was right here in front of you. You were double shocked that your mom was dating his dad. How in the world did that happen?

“It’s good to have you home, Y/n.” Your mom said as you started to plate the food.

“Thanks mom. It’s good to be home.” You didn’t know how truthful she was being though because the two of you haven’t gotten along for all of your life. She’s blamed you for your dad leaving and treated you like crap for it.

Dinner went on like that, with idle conversation and moments of silence. Truth be told, it was awkward as hell. You kept stealing glances at Colby, to find him pushing his food around before he would glance your way as well. You would always look away while a light blush appeared on your face.

“Alright kids, now that we have finished dinner, we wanted to talk to you about something.” John said once all the plates had been cleared.

“Sure.” Colby said, while you just nodded.

“We wanted to take a family vacation, so we can get to know each other’s family. So we booked a vacation to Boca Raton for a week.” Your mom said catching the two of you off guard.

“Oh, okay. But you know I have a job to start, right?” You stated.

“Yes sweetie, I know your job doesn’t start until next month and we leave in two days.”

“Great.” Colby’s voice was void of emotions. Like you, he wasn’t thrilled about your parents attempts to mesh the families together.

“You don’t sound too thrilled about this, Colby.” John noticed.

“I’m not. I’m being forced to get to know your new girlfriend and her daughter when I would rather not be involved. It’s not going to go anywhere, just liked the rest of them. You will probably cheat again.”

His words were harsh, but you could definitely see where he was coming from. But you couldn’t help but feel he had a dislike for you simply because your mom was dating his dad.

“That’s where you are wrong. I love Susanne and we are going to make this work whether you like it or not.” John was defensive against his moody son.

“Whatever you say. Are we finished here? I have somewhere to be.” He pushed his chair from the table and got up.

“I’m sorry, Sue, I don’t know where he got the attitude from. I promise he will be better on the trip.” You just rolled my eyes and stood up and started gathering the empty plates. Your mother followed John and Colby out while you started to clean up.

You were washing the dishes, when your mother entered the kitchen behind you.

“So Y/n, did you like John?” She questioned while you glanced over at her.

“I don’t know him enough to know whether I do or not.” You said truthfully.

“Well you should like him. He makes me happy and I’m in love with him.”

A sick feeling formed in your stomach.

“How long have you two been dating?” You needed to know how long she kept it a secret from you.

“Ten months.”

“You kept it a secret from me for 10 months!” You raised your voice as the anger took over. You put the sponge down and turned to face her.

“Yes, we didn’t talk much, and I didn’t think it was that big of a thing to keep from you. Besides, you were busy with college and whatever else you were doing at your fathers, I didn’t want to bother you.”

Her excuse was pure bullshit to you. “Save the shitty excuse and admit you didn’t think about telling me.” You growled turning away from her.

“What? No honey, why would you think that. You’re my daughter and you mean a lot to me.”

Once again you faced her, “I mean a lot to you? That’s a fucking lie. You blamed me all my life for my father leaving you, but you didn’t stop to think about that fact that he left me too. You made my life hell because you weren’t happy with yours. What kind of mother does that?”

She just laughed it off. “You’re overexaggerating it. Now finish the dishes, I’m going to relax.” Before you could say another word, she was out the door.

****

Two days later, you were sitting in an airport, with Colby beside you and both your parents in some seats across from you. Both of you were equally unhappy to be here, while both parents acted like lovebirds. It was honestly gross to watch.

“Holy fuck, do they ever stop.” You groaned, taking your eyes away from them.

“Nope, they are constantly all over each other.” Colby stated looking down at his phone. “You seem angry.” He noticed.

“I am.” You grumbled, thinking about the conversation you had with your mother the other day. Like always, she managed to make you feel like shit instead of acknowledging her wrong doings.

“What did she do?” His focus was now strictly on you.

“She didn’t think telling me about her new boyfriend was important. She practically admitted to forgetting I existed once I was out of the house. Growing up with her as my mother was hell and she has never once apologized for the shit she did to me. For years, she blamed me for her and my fathers divorce. I was 4 when they divorced.” You said making sure your voice was low, so she wouldn’t hear it.

Colby was silent for a little while. “That’s horrible. What kind of mother blames their child for a divorce?”

“Mine apparently. Now she wants to suddenly act like it didn’t happen.”

“Well I think that’s bullshit. I can see right through them, you know. They are just using each other for company. My father has never been able to be faithful, every woman he has dated were all just an excuse to have some fun. He also resents my mom for moving on from him and marrying someone whose better to her.”

“That’s fucked.”

“You’re telling me. My father is immune to commitment.”

“We have some fucked up parents.” He nodded and sent a glare to both your parents who were giggling to themselves.

The flight was called shortly after that, so the two of you followed your parents onto the plane. Colby and you were going to be sitting next to complete strangers, while your parents snuggled up together. It was not fun. Your flight was annoying, because the middle-aged man beside you kept checking you out and trying to talk to you, despite you politely telling him you weren’t interested in conversing. It was complete hell.

Arriving in Boca Raton was a godsend because you couldn’t stand being next to this guy anymore. The last half hour of the flight, he spent it trying to guess your name and persuade your number out of you. You were seconds away from punching him, but luckily the plane landed, and you were able to get out of there quickly. Colby sent you a look as you exited the plane, you just grumbled under your breath.

“Well that flight was wonderful, wasn’t it kids?” Your mother asked as John waited for the luggage to come around.

“Fuck no. That was the worst flight I have ever taken.” You said, holding your anger back.

“Oh sweetie, lighten up. We’re on vacation.” Her words sparked even more anger.

“The old guy next to me kept hitting on me and wouldn’t shut the fuck up the whole flight.”

“Watch your language.” Was all she said before she strolled up to stand beside John.

Colby just chuckled from beside you. You sent him a glare and walked away from the group. You didn’t want to be here with them. You didn’t want to spend a whole week with your mom and her boyfriend that you knew nothing about. You didn’t want to spend the whole week pining over Colby when you knew he would never like you the way you liked him. He and you were still in completely different circles and he liked his women blonde and gorgeous. You were anything but that. Okay maybe you’re pretty, but you still thought of yourself as the nerd from high school and you didn’t doubt he did as well.

John and your mother ushered all of you to a rental car, and you were off to the hotel. Colby and you were in the back, silently sitting beside each other. He was on his phone, probably talking to a girlfriend or something.

“Oh, I almost forgot. John upgraded his and I’s room to a suite, but you and Colby will be sharing a regular room.” Your mother said with a huge smile on her face.

“That’s great.” Colby grumbled from beside you, voicing your thoughts out loud.

“Don’t sound so sad. It will be good for you to get to know each other.” John stated sternly, showing authority over Colby.

“Sure, whatever.” Colby said under his breath. you hid your smirk from his words. He nudged your side when he saw that.

You were nervous as hell now. You would be sharing a room with Colby. The man you’ve had a crush on for nearly 10 years. This was going to be one hell of an experience; you were sure of it.

The car pulled up to the hotel, which was this huge building that looked like it had been here for a while. It was beautiful and right on the beach as well. It was surely a resort and perhaps it wouldn’t be a horrible place to stay. But your nerves were still on edge about this whole vacation. Your moms attachment to Colby’s dad scared you.

Colby and you were given the keycards to the room before your parents left both of you alone to fend for yourselves. Honestly, their behavior was disgusting to you.

“Let’s get to our room I guess.” Colby grumbled, picking up his suitcase and heading towards the elevators in the opposite direction of where our parents had gone. You quickly grabbed yours and followed after him.

The two of you stepped into a gold-plated elevator and he hit the eighth floor, where your room was located. You felt like he was resenting you, because he would have to spend the whole week with you.

“I’m sorry that you have to stay with me.” You mumbled as the elevator moved up floor by floor.

The angry scowl left his face as he glanced towards you. “No, I don’t mind staying with you. I’m mad at our parents for just springing all of this onto us last minute.”

You let out a sigh of relief when he said this. You really thought he hated you or something.

“Oh, I thought you hated me.” You admitted while looking towards the carpeted floor of the elevator.

“I don’t hate you, Y/n. I haven’t ever really hated you, even when I was dating Paige.” His words surprised you.

“Really? Then why was I treated like crap when you dated her?” There was no way he didn’t hate you then.

“Because Paige was always a huge bitch and blackmailed me into treating you that way.”

“Oh, well it’s okay then.”

He shook his head. “It’s not okay at all really. I should have never done some of the things I have done. But I was horrible in high school after my parents’ divorce.”

“Well it’s good to know you didn’t and don’t hate me. Also, don’t blame yourself for the way you acted as a result of the divorce. It was traumatic to you and you only did what helped you feel better.”

“I guess so. I wish I could take so much back.”

“That’s impossible, but you can continue to be a better person from now into the future.” It wasn’t good that he was beating himself up over the past.

He sent you a kind smile. “You’re right. Thank you for that, Y/n.”

You sent him a smile as well. “No problem. Now, should we get this vacation started?” You questioned as the two of you stopped in front of the door to the room.

Colby opened the door and the two of you entered the room. It was a surprisingly nice room for it being a regular room. There was two queen sized beds, covered in crème sheets and comfy looking pillows. There was a decently sized sitting area with a nice flat screen TV. The bathroom was gorgeous, with a huge, jetted tub and a beautiful walk-in shower. The best part was the private balcony we had that overlooked the beautiful blue ocean. Staying here wasn’t going to be so bad.

“This is way nicer than I expected.” He spoke your thoughts.

“Yes, I agree. But this is an upscale hotel.” You stated as you set your bags down on one of the two beds. The beds looked so comfy, you wanted to just take a nap at the moment.

“True.” He answered when his phone went off. He was silent as he checked it. “Our parents want us to meet up in the Lobby at 7 for dinner.” His voice was flat when he mentioned the parents.

“Oh great. Well, that means there’s time for a nap.” You moved your bags from the bed and pulled your shoes off. You pulled back the covers and got into the comfy bed. Your body was in bliss the minute you laid down on the bed. It was absolutely perfect. Your eyes grew heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. The nap was much needed.

PART TWO >>

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E125 (Feb. 16, 2021)

Goooood evening good evening good evening, all! I hope you’re all staying warm and safe and dry in this chilly weather. Tonight’s guests: Travis Willingham and Laura Bailey. 

We open tonight with Travis ribbing Brian for his continuous remodel of his office space. Laura demands a second introduction of herself as she wasn’t paying attention during the first one.

Travis: “You’ve gotta love Julianne Moore. She’s the only actress who can cry and show you all her teeth at the same time.” I was listening pretty closely when he said this and I’m still not sure it had any context. 

Jester thinks there’s a strong possibility at least half the party will die against the Tombtakers. Fjord doesn’t think the odds are quite that high, but it will be dangerous. Laura points out that most of the M9 are also willing to sacrifice themselves for the rest of the party, so that changes their odds as well. Travis: “The game is not a stress reliever. It is not a stress reliever. I mean, it’s fun as shit, but it is stressful!”

Laura thinks Essek will give them a better chance. Travis: “A plus-one? A powerful plus-one, but a plus-one?” Did you see his reaction when we gave him the lowdown? Let’s be real: we kinda trust Essek. I got $50 that when we come back, he’s gone.” Laura is convinced he is trustworthy & wants to lighten his soul.

Jester spent so much time trying to bring out the Molly side of Lucien that to have him then betray them sucked. She knew that trying to bring the good out of everyone they met would eventually fail, but it stung that it was the most powerful one they encountered to first betray them.

She tries to talk about finger gestures during the answer as a reference to the HBO show “Raised by Wolves,” and Brian and Travis tell her to keep digging this hole she gets herself into about fingering. Travis: “Just get off the interstate at the next exit and turn right.” Laura, of course, immediately mimes turning a hard left, and they spent the next few minutes laughing at her inability to tell right from left and that even now she still has to hold up her hands to tell left from right.

Fjord is furious that they nicked the Bag of Holding. The loss of Vess DeRogna is bad enough, but he is genuinely IRL anxious about the loss of the Cloven Crystal. Laura points out that Fjord has also explicitly talked to Lucien about the deep sea creature patron he used to follow as well. He’s terrified one of Lucien’s scimitars is suddenly going to have a big eye sticking out of it. Laura suggests they’ll just succeed, bring back the city, and wake up Uk’otoa for the heck of it.

It was really rough to go from the Gelidon fight to the Tombtaker fight, especially since the first fight sent so well. Travis felt great that he initiated the dragon fight - he knew they had a far advantage in the numbers and felt that it was an open and shut case.

Laura does boggle that if Caleb hadn’t asked for that item from the Bag of Holding, they might have slept all night before realizing it was gone. They’re both relieved that they now know so much more about how the Tombtakers fight, especially the anti-magic cone. The most anxiety-ridden part was when they were trying to run and the TTs weren’t letting them. “You know when you don’t even have squares, when Matt’s black-tableclothing it, you’re in deep shit.” Laura had no spells left - she was so worried if she dropped the polymorph she would have had nothing left.

Travis: “Thanks for healing me, babe.” Laura: “You’re welcome, baby. It was ultimately a waste, though, because we took a rest immediately and you could just spend your hit dice.” Everyone laughs at Travis’s pain. She does say it was worth it in the moment since they didn’t know if they would be able to get away.

They joke that Laura’s just wearing the Fire Resist ring on a chain around her neck/Sprinkle is wearing it now to keep it safe since she’s not attuned to it anymore. It’s pretty hilarious!

Travis hoped that the TTs were originally actively looking for more acolytes rather than just having Caleb & Beau read the book. Otis needs to die. He’s relieved they have an idea of what all their blood rites do. Laura thought the time with them was fun, but it makes her retroactively wish that she’d dropped Zoran in the lava when they had the chance. Travis wishes they’d put a chime on the door of the tower.

Laura loved the tarot card reading, since Taliesin sent her really detailed breakdowns of the cards & gave her a real deck for Christmas. Taliesin told her she did a great job afterwards which she really appreciated, since she’s not sure what she’s doing. She does wish that she knew why Lucien seemed so nervous when she was talking about rebirth.

Cosplay of the Week! @clever_comics on twitter with a lovely Veth in her snowy lavender-colored outfit and pigtails.

Travis on confessing to Jester: “It FUCKING made me crazy!” He’s never been an instigator of campaign romances in the past, but because he loves Laura and was able to connect to her on that level he felt like it was a good challenge instead. He doesn’t think he could have done it with someone he wasn’t comfortable with. It was also important to him for it to be founded on real-game moments and after real-game time had passed, and he felt it was a very natural progression. Seeing the statues rip five years from her in such a benign situation made him realize that to let the opportunity pass wouldn’t have been worth it. He wishes he’d told Vandran what he meant to Fjord as well.

Laura loves that Fjord is becoming more confident as well. The post-Gelidon smooch took Laura completely by surprise since she’s finding Jester is a little surprisingly awkward with IRL affection, and she was surprised Fjord was the confident one there. “It’s so wonderful. It’s a matter of finding a way to get comfortable with it with her away from the Tombtakers.” Travis thought it was important to continue the “go for it” mantra. He notes that he’s pretty private about his personal life IRL, so it’s been a bit of a shift. It’s slower in a way - not a “you’re my one true love” kind of thing, more of a “let’s see where this goes and act on what you can” thing.

They were all “poopin’ in their pants” to get to go to Emon. The worst part was not getting to explore outside the tower since they had to leave again immediately. Kima is so cool, and Travis was actively trying to get Kima to come with them. Everyone boggles that they got to borrow Allura’s staff.

Laura only was thinking about the item-tuned-to-the-target-plane because she’d been texting with Liam trying to iron out their spell choices. She’s so relieved that they were able to get something tuned to the Sea from Allura.

For the most part, Laura knows what spells are the most useful for Jester, but every now and then she does get caught by major component requirements that she hadn’t noted. She wants to get another chalice for Hero’s Feast before they go into the Sea.

Dani points out that a lot of their allies right now are mages (no Kashaws, no Kimas, no Grogs) and they’re heading to a bad place for mages.

Travis has a sudden brain wave about all the TTs being from the Claret Order and wonders if they should investigate that before they pursue. I don’t even remember what that order is and I feel terrible!

Fanart of the Week! It’s a beautiful card by @crovyne on twitter of the Cree counterspell.

Laura really wants Brian to shave the sides of his hair and do Viking braids in the rest. I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but Brian’s hair is really looking pretty...pandemicky.

This is Dani’s four-year-anniversary of her start for Critical Role! Awww, Dani! You’re so short in real life.

Fjord is stoked that the Star Razor is a Vestige, and more now that he knows in-character what that means. It was great to see Allura react the way she did.

Jester doesn’t think they can really go to Nicodranas - they don’t have anymore time. Even more, Jester’s avoiding going home because she doesn’t want the Ruby to see that she got aged up/hurt on her travels.

Travis honestly assumes that the TTs are spying on them 100% of the time now.

Does Jester feel better now that the crest is away from Lucien? Yes, even though it’s gone off course. She thought dropping the crest where they were was a HORRIBLE idea and was appalled so many people were suggesting it. She saw the city with her own eyes, knows the danger of what’s coming, and if they had dropped it in flight she would have dropped with it and defended it as long as she could if that’s what would have kept them from getting it.

Travis thinks that if they can negotiate with Lucien, they should try. Everyone is super worried about Caleb’s and Beau’s new eyes and are fully anticipating they’re on a clock at this point. They wonder if it’ll drive up their exhaustion, allow Lucien to force them to fight against them, maybe make them willing slaves to the mysterious voice...they need to solve it sooner rather than later. 

And that’s all for tonight! New episode this Thursday - usual time, usual place. Stay warm, friends, and is it Thursday yet?

[dracowars]

i read your first request and it’s AMAZING!! i loved it soo much, so i was wondering if you could write smth where y/n is dracos gf - they meet in his dorm room after class, but one day she’s super late and acting really weird, draco doesn’t bother, tries to comfort her, and maybe get a lil steamy, but she doesn’t want to.. he then discovers scaring on her hand, and she tells him that crabble sent her to umbridge for doing smth bad.. you can decide on the plot, those are just some ideas! xx

engraved | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,0k

summary: where y/n's visit to the new headmistress leads to a heated argument with draco

a/n: thank you very much for your kind words and for requesting, i really hope that you like it <3

warnings: a little steamy, angst, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to hold back the tears, you run down the sparse torch-lit corridors of Hogwarts, your footsteps echoing from the thick stone walls around you creating the only other sound besides your soft sobs. You press your left hand against your chest while you burst into the closest girls' bathroom, which is completely empty at this time, especially since Dolores Umbridge is in charge of the rules here.

It has been less than a month since she crept into school as the new headmistress and everything is already upside down. Students are allowed to walk around at a certain time only, detours between lessons are not acceptable at all, couples are almost no longer allowed to exist and actually, just all kind of fun and joy at Hogwarts has been extingusihed by her rules.

However, worst of all are the punishments for breaking any of Umbridge's thousand rules. Recently she has founded the so-called Inquisitorial Squad, a select group of students who help her to locate every kind of violations happening around the school. They sneak around the hallways on their hourly tours at night and report every so tiny thing to their new boss immediately. Most of these students are, of course, Slytherin's. Your boyfriend Draco was also offered to become a part of this squad, which he gladly accepted and was named its leader. You exactly know how perfect Draco fits into the role of the bad and ruthless leader, but still, you weren't very happy about it. After all, this woman is currently destroying your second home and he is helping her in a certain way.

Being the girlfriend of the Inquisitorial Squad's leader made you think that nothing can harm you, but oh, you were terribly wrong. Usually by this time in the early evening after your last course in Transfiguration you would already be in Draco's prefect dorm room, cuddling on his bed and just talking about your day. Because of the new established rules, you have to sneak into his room, trying to not get caught, but so far it has not been a very big problem. Even if someone of the other Slytherin's catches you, they will be far too scared of Draco to report it. But unfortunately everything took a different turn today.

During your Transfiguration lesson you had to admit that you forgot to do your homework, something that doesn't happen often but the current situation in Hogwarts burdens everyone, even the teachers, and on top of that you also came too late. Not that McGonagall was mad at you or anything, you are one of her best students after all, and a simple warning that it should not happen again was enough punishment in her opinion. Unluckily for you, Vincent Crabbe, one of your boyfriend's goons, is also in your class. And he definetely takes his job as an inquisitor a little too serious.

When you wanted to get out of the classroom, he suddenly got in your way and blocked it, waiting for everyone else to leave. At first you thought he was just trying to be funny again, you have never had a problem with each other in the first place. But apparently Crabbe prefers to receive an award from Umbridge to your friendship and the fact that you are in the same house didn't stop him in deducting twenty house points from his own house because you broke two rules. You never expected him to have a big brain, but that he even dragged you into Umbridge's office afterwards just because you forgot your homework in a class she is not even a part of, was even too stupid for a Vincent Crabbe.

And only then did it get really bad.

A tear has now found its way down your cheek, but you hastily wipe it away and run to the sinks in the girls' bathroom. You quickly turn on the faucet and hold your reddened, throbbing hand under the ice-cold water, your lips escapes a painful gasp. You squeeze your eyes shut at the pain and let the water run down your skin, hoping to soothen your aching flesh. What Umbridge did to you can no longer be considered a punishment, it was more of a torture.

As soon as Crabbe rudely pushed you into her disgusting pink office, he immediately received his desired reward and left you alone with this monster of a woman. This disgusting woman greeted you with a fake cunning smile and asked you to sit on one of the chairs at her table, the cats trapped in the pictures on every inch of the wall meowing in your ear. First you resisted against her request but soon realized that discussions with her are of no use and sat down after all.

With that peculiar high tone of hers, she handed you a black quill and then asked you to write 'I must not be late' onto the parchment until you memorize it. She also told you that you won't need any ink. With an annoyed roll of your eyes you straightend up your position, put the tip of the quill onto the paper and started writing. Not even spelling out the sentence one time, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand with every further letter you wrote down. As you took a look at your hand you noticed the exact words you just wrote were engraved on your skin.

Shocked, you glanced at Umbridge, but she just stood their with a smile on her face, shaking her head and shrugging. You figured out that the ink was made from your own blood and also that every word would only hurt more. And that is exactly what it did. She must have let you write that one single sentence down over fifthy times before she was sure you had learned your lesson.

You yourself didn't really care if you did, all you wanted to do was to get out of that hell as soon as possible. And now you are here, standing in absolute pain in front of an already broken mirror in a cold bathroom.

You have to blink a few times while looking up at the ceiling to hold back your tears and then you look at your injured hand again. You pull it out from under the running water for a moment, only to see that you are still able to perfectly read the words. The cold water did not really ease the pain, it almost feels like it has gotten worse. You lightly touch the reddend, blood smeared skin around the actual wound with your fingertip and just at the slightest touch you flinch and pull your hand back.

You don't know how long you stood there and held your hand under the water as suddenly a thought pops up in your mind: Draco. If he finds out about what happened, he will be furious. Also, he is probably already waiting for you for two hours, not that it is unusual for you to be late to your daily meetings with your boyfriend, you always get caught up by some work for school, but you never needed this long before. Is he already looking for you?

Without waisting another thought, you close the tap again, dry your hand very gently and then go out of the girls' bathroom, always careful not to run into the next squad member's arms and get sent back to the devil itself. Fortunately, you manage to find your way to the common room without getting caught, only once imagining that you heard Mrs. Norris. After you have said the password successfully, you enter the, luckily, empty room.

You quickly make your way to Draco's prefect dorm room, pulling the sleeve of your cloak - or as you have just noticed because of the large size, Draco's cloak - over your wounded hand so that it remains hidden. All you want is to be hugged now and comforted by him and not that he gets upset and angry and probably storm to Umbridge's office right away. Softly, you knock on the door and take in a deep breath, before it is opened vigorously.

Immediately you are pulled into the room, the door behind you is closed, even locked, and you get pressed against it with your back. In front of you is none other than your incredibly handsome boyfriend whose eyes seek eye contact with you in an instant. "Where were you?", Draco asks in a calm voice, gently stroking his fingertips over your cheeks to your chin, causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

"I-I was held in Transfiguration. I had to catch up on some tasks and I forgot the time. I'm sorry, Draco", you lie into his face, really not wanting to tell him anything about what happend. "You made me wait a long time for you today, are you aware of that, darling?", he reminds you with a cheeky grin, his face slowly coming closer to yours. You know exactly what that look, that expression in his suddenly darker eyes means. He moves the hand that is not under your chin over your side and lets it stay on your hip. "But that is no problem, love. We still have enough time.."

With these words he then connects your lips into a hungry kiss, pressing you more against the door to his room. His hand on your hip squeezes you harder and he runs his other hand down to your neck. His firm grip makes you gasp, only earning a deep chuckle from the platinum haired boy.

For this brief moment in which he caught you off guard by slamming his lips onto yours, you had forgotten everything around you, but it did not last long and suddenly all the experiences come back into your head. Not wanting to continue this, you put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away from you but you only manage to break the kiss, which does not please him at all.

"I'm really not in the mood today, Draco", you explain, hoping that he will understand, like he usually does. "You will be, just wait and see", he winks playfully, absolutely not noticing the seriousness in your voice. Before you can say anything you only see the corners of his mouth curl up and next thing you know is he's attacking your neck, sucking and nibbling at that specific spot behind your ear.

Because of the actually pleasing feeling, you put more pressure on Draco's upper arms, which you are now unintentionally holding onto. "D-Draco", you softly whimper as he takes off your green tie and starts unbuttoning your white blouse, his rough kisses slowly wandering to your collarbone. "Please, Draco, stop", you manage to bring out, clearer than previously, but he ignores your request and just continues with what he is doing.

"We both know that you don't want me to stop", Draco whispers in your ear and connects your lips again, this time even rougher, not giving you the opportunity to say anything. It takes you a few seconds until you, in fact, try to relax under his touch and let yourself go, tilting your head to one side so he has even more access to the sensitive skin on your neck, which is already bluish.

But you just can't. You can't force yourself to do this after the horrifying encounter with Umbridge.

With a strong, forceful push you manage to shove Draco away from you ungently, a shocked and kind of annoyed expression plastered upon his face. "I said stop, Draco!", you practically scream at him, his forehead furrowed as the tears well back into your eyes. You want to pass him and go to his bed, but he quickly grabs your wrist and stops you. Immediately you harshly swat your hand away.

"Let me go and just leave me alone! You are always so insensitive!", you yell at him again, the emotions taking over your actions, but this time the tears find their way down your cheeks and only now Draco notices your change of appearance, how puffy your cheeks are and how your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, as if you had already cried before coming to his room.

Crying, you lie down on his bed, facing the wall so that your back is facing him. Draco frowns for a moment when he sees your devastated figure trembling from your heavy sobs. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your crying, but that only makes it worse. You can feel the mattress sink down beneath you as Draco lies down beside you, not touching you in the slightest.

A few minutes pass in which noone speaks, only your crying can be heard throughout the silence of the room. Your desperate attempts to calm yourself down and wipe away your recurring tears fails dramatically. Draco, on the other hand, lies next to you motionless, his head propped up on his elbow. If there is one thing in this entire traumatic enough world that he hates the most, it definetely is seeing you, the love of his life, his soulmate, cry. He would love to punch himself for not noticing how bad you are feeling sooner. Feelings of guilt start to plague him and he doesn't know what to do, if you even want to be touched by him anymore, especially in this fragile state.

Nevertheless, Draco finally decides to approach you slowly by stroking your hair gently and carefully to not scare you. He just wants to show you that he is here for you, that he is by your side, even if you may not feel like talking right now. When he notices that you are not resisting his touch, he runs his fingertips over your arm, trying to comfort you somehow without it being too much. And when you don't fight against that either, Draco suddenly wraps his arms around your still shaking body from behind and presses you tightly against him.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart", he softly whispers into your ear, lifting his head so he gets a glimpse of your face from the side. "Please stop..", he almost begs and feels tears pricking in his own eyes now as well. He has seen you cry a few times already, but never this much. It breaks his heart. "I'm here for you, angel."

In his strong and protective arms, tightly secured around your waist, you finally manage to calm down at least a little bit and turn around to face him. You don't dare to look at him with your probably disfigured face from all the crying, but Draco has other plans. He puts a hand on your cheek, guiding your face up to make you look at him. In your shiny, pain-ridden eyes, he is trying to find an answer to your condition, not wanting to pressure you to tell him if you don't want to.

"D-Draco", you stutter out between your sobs. "Shh..", he hushs you softly, his left hand stroking up and down your side in order to comfort you. "Take it easy, okay? Breathe in deeply. Whatever happened, I'm here for you. I protect you. Always."

Knowingly, you nod and wipe away some tears again, Draco helping you with his thumb. When you let your hand drop again, he catches your hand in his gently and wants to intertwine your fingers as his gaze falls on the still reddened wound on the back of your hand. His eyes widen as he sees the wound consisting of words painfully engraved into your skin. His mouth opens in pure shock. "What is that? Who did this to you, Y/N?!"

With a sad gasp you quickly pull your hand away, the expression on his face immediately falling since you are avoiding his touch and don't trust him with this. Only at seeing your scared face Draco notices that his last words became a bit louder and he is quick to pull you into a comforting hug again. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you", he apologizes and places a kiss on your hair. "You know that you can tell me everything, Y/N. But if you don't want to, then at least show me your injury again please."

Silently, you escape his grip and lift your hand for him to see. He carefully examines the back of your hand, looking into your eyes here and then to see if his touch hurts. "U-Umbridge", you sob while he is still busy viewing your wound. At your words he raises an eyebrow in surprise.

"I-I was late for class and forgot my homework and then.. and then Crabbe sent me to her office. She.. She did-", you try to explain, but just can't find the right words. Draco caresses your cheek gently, apparently understanding what happened.

"I will kill her", Draco grinds his teeth, obviously fighting himself to hold back the anger that is currently raising inside of him like a burning flame. This woman dared to lay a hand on you and put you in such a state. And Crabbe won't get away with this either. Because of the tremendous anger, Draco is already getting up from the soft mattress, ready to fight.

"Please s-stay with me, Draco", you entreat him, not wanting to loose the warmth of his body next to you that manages to calm you down. At your words, his tense body relaxes and the boiling fire inside of him diminishes, but only slightly. Just because of you he's not already on his way to her office and give her hell.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you had to go through this alone and I'm sorry for my behavior earlier", Draco starts to ramble, feeling guilty for not being able to protect you.

"You couldn't know. I-I really don't want to talk about it anymore.. Can you please just hold me, Draco?", you sob and he does what you asked him to do right away. His arms pull you closer to him and the delicate, fragrant scent that emenates from him calms you down, lowering your cries.

"I will never let you go", Draco whispers quietly, reassuring you that he will defintely never let you get hurt again. Not on his watch even if that means that he has to stick to you every second from now on, then so it will be.