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ripdragonbeans · 3 months ago

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Not Him, I Swear // Modern!Aegon x Reader // Pt. 3

Summary: You go on your second date with Aegon and it ends up being much more fun that you anticipated.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, Aegon being an ass, oh but he has feelings??????

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

The next few days were filled with cute texts and fluffy dates. Aegon respected your wishes and didn't push you to go any further than a make out session. It drove you crazy; you wanted him but you were scared. As much as you wanted to forget all the pain Jason caused you, it was something that stayed. It tainted your views of love, something that can be hard to make new.

Aegon seemed too good to be true.

But you swallowed your fears and pushed on with your relationship with him.

“Hey, man!” Cregan strolled into the room. “How's our bet going? Is she begging for you yet?” He plopped himself down next to Aegon and put his feet on the table.

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he murmured. “No, she's not begging yet, but I'll get there.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Gods, I almost feel bad.”

Cregan’s eyebrow rose. “Bad? Don't tell me that my best friend is actually catching feelings for someone.”

“No, I'm not catching feelings for anyone.” Aegon got up to grab another beer; his third one already, and it was barely noon.

“The way you talk about her says differently.”

“I haven't talked about her.”

“Not obviously, of course. At any mention of the bet or anything, you tense up. Something’s going on in that head.”

“Whatever, Cregan,” Aegon muttered. “Since you're so focused on annoying me, I'm gonna go to my room.” He gave his friend a mocking wave before leaving the living room to his own.

He put his head in his hands and let out a groan. He couldn't be catching feelings, he shouldn't be falling for her. But he is.

The way she smiles. The way her eyes light up. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. It's like looking into a bright light and being engulfed in its warmth.

But he had to do this. He needed to prove that he could have anyone he wanted. If not to himself, then to his friend. As shallow as it was, he wanted to follow through. He hoped she wouldn't hate him in the end.

“Hel, I really can't believe it,” you gushed. “I know you said not to get too involved with him but he's already so much better than Jason!”

You plopped down on the couch, closed your eyes, and stretched. The wonderful feeling of being loved say well inside your heart. Despite the aching fears and the anxiety that comes along after being cheated on, the feeling of being loved triumphed ever just a tiny bit.

“I wouldn't go ahead and say that, bestie. Please, be on your guard. You know all the stories, all the rumors, and I can even testify for some of them.” Helaena held your hands and looked you in the eye. “Be careful, please.”

A voice came from the hallway. “Yeah, what she said.” Jace walked over to the two of you sitting on the couch. He wore a grim expression on his face. “I don't mean to hurt you but I've heard that he's just trying to get you to sleep with him, all for some bet.”

Your heart sank at the thought but you pushed it aside.

“Very funny, Jace,” you said. “But I don't need that negativity in my life.”

“It's not negativity if it's true.” He looked at you with pity in his eyes.

You shook off the expression and took a deep breath. “Why can't you two just be happy for me?”

Helaena squeezed the hand she was holding. “We're happy for you, we just want you to be careful. We hate to see you hurt.”

“It's a risk, isn't it? All relationships are. I know Aegon and I will either end up together forever or eventually break up. It's up to us, not you two, but me and Aegon, how bad that ending will be.”

Helaena huffed. “Okay, I'll drop it. For now.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you.” You turned to address both Jace and Helaena. “Now, would you two like to know what's happening next?”

“As hesitant as I am, yes,” Helaena said.

Jace nodded his head in agreement.

You pulled out your phone to read the text messages between you and Aegon.

“Our next date is a movie!” You announced.

There was a beat of silence before Jace broke it. “A movie? Isn't that a little cliche?”

You frowned at him. “Shut up, it's something.”

“What movie are you guys gonna catch?” Helaena cut in.

“Oh! Um…” you bowed your head in embarrassment and mumbled your answer.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” Jace leaned in. A knowing smirk graced his lips.

You mumbled your answer again, but a little louder.

“Bestie, I still can't hear you!”

“Shrek 2.”

You look up in shame. The judgment you feel from them was too much.

“...I'm sorry, did you just say Shrek 2?” Clarified Jace.

“It's the best one!”

Helena laughed. “Considering it's you and Aegon, it makes sense. Weird choice, but yeah.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, time to get you date ready!”

“‘Date ready?’ Hel, I’ve got five hours until I have to leave. I have time.”

“For what I have planned for you? Nope, five hours is just enough time for me and Jace to get you set.”

Jace froze hearing his name. “Me? What do I have to do?”

“Shut up, you're moral support,” Helaena rolled her eyes in amusement. “Now, let's go.”

Helaena offered you her hand but you hesitated slightly. What if this is just a plot to convince you to not go? But when you looked at your friends all you could see was the love they had for you.

“Alright, let's get this started,” you smiled.

Four hours later had you sitting in a chair with your back straight and a mirror behind you.

“Annnnnd done!” Helaena turned your chair around so you could see yourself.

You took in the image, your hair all done nicely, your facial features enhanced, all of it. You couldn't help the smile that made its way.

“Helaena,” you started, “my gods, you did an amazing job!”

You turned toward Jace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Yeah,” he said between handfuls of chips, “you look great. Aegon is gonna shit himself.”

“I don't know about that,” you rolled your eyes. “He's been with a shit ton of other girls before me, I doubt I'm the prettiest.”

A hand smacked your head.

“No. You're the hottest he's ever been with and will only be with for the rest of your lives.”

“Wow, and I thought you were dead set on me not being with him.”

“Only to protect you! But,” she sighed, “if this is how it goes then he better not break your heart. He does that. I'll chop up his dick in his sleep.”

“Yeah, and I'll fuck up his face,” Jace added.

You laughed at your friends, your heart full. “You two are so extra.”

“It's called being best friends,” Jace said as he joined you and Helaena at the mirror.

Looking at the three of you, you thought of all the trials you've been through. All the heartbreak, the laughs, the highs and the lows. Without them who knows what you would be like. You interlocked your hands with both of them and leaned back.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you guys, but I'm grateful for you two and love you.”

Beep beep!

The sound of the honking car was quickly followed by a text. You picked up your phone and couldn't stop the smile. Of course Aegon would do this. As you readied yourself to leave the apartment, you did one last look in the mirror.

You were happy with how you looked; all dolled up for the date. Just enough to be enticing but not so much in your face. With a pep in your step, you made your way to the front door.

Aegon’s eyes went wide when he saw you. “You look…”

You nodded for him to continue.

“Amazing. You look amazing.” Aegon flashed you a big smile.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” you replied as you got in the car.

Aegon’s car was messy but it could be a lot worse. Luckily the trash wasn't food trash but rather random papers and receipts that were strewn across the floor and the back seat. It also smelled vaguely of weed.

“You smoke?” You asked him.

Aegon pulled out of the driveway. “Yeah, and I vape every now and then if I want a flavor or something. You?”

“I've been curious about it but no, I haven't done either.”

“Wanna try? We can pull over and I can roll you a joint.”

A smile crept onto your face. There were butterflies in your stomach but you were excited to take the plunge.

Once Aegon pulled over into an unmarked parking lot, he pulled out the weed, the paper, and lighter. He was careful to roll the joint nicely for you. Once he finished he looked at his work and gave you a smile. “Ta-da! One joint rolled for my kitten.”

“Okay, cool. I can do this.” You told yourself.

Aegon looked at you with concern. “You don't have to smoke if you don't want to.”

“No, but I really want to.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head. “I'll light it. Then all you have to do is inhale through your mouth, hold it for a bit then exhale through your mouth. Simple.”

“Simple. Right.”

“Okay, here we go.”

Aegon lit it then brought the joint up to your mouth. You gently wrapped your lips around the tip and you did as he said.

Inhale.

You felt the smoke fill your mouth.

Hold.

You let it sit and go down your throat.

Exhale.

A puff of smoke flew out of your mouth.

As a calming sensation sprinkled through your body you have Aegon a relaxed smile.

“You feeling okay?” Aegon asked you

You laughed a bit. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Aegon took a drag from the joint himself. “Wanna get high before we watch the movie?”

“Hell yeah.”

Before heading off to the movie theater, you and Aegon shared the joint. It didn't take long for you to get high but Aegon finished it off. He was careful not to get higher than just having a buzz since he was driving. The rest of the ride was filled with you babbling about everything and nothing. Aegon smiled and let you go on.

Arriving at the theater, you let out a little giggle. “I'm so excited for this, Aegon.” You slurred his name.

“Yeah.” He couldn't stop himself from smiling at you. Getting out of the car, he circled around to open the passenger door. “Time to get out, kitten.”

You giggled again. “I like that you call me kitten. It's cute and it kinda turns me on.”

Aegon gulped down a breath. “That's great; time to see the movie.”

Letting go of Aegon’s hand, you put both of yours on his chest. “I wanna be with you.”

He pushed your hands down and kept them firmly in his. Aegon looked you in the eye. “And we will but not like this. I want you to be sober when I take you.”

You huffed. “Okay.”

Finally getting you to step out of the car, Aegon went back to only holding one hand as he led you through the parking lot and into the theater.

“Mmm I want popcorn and an Icee,” you said as soon as you walked in. The smell of popcorn immediately surrounded you.

“I'll get you popcorn and a water,” Aegon said.

You stamped your foot. “But I want an Icee!”

He tugged on your hand to get you to look at him. “Kitten, you need water. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Another giggle escaped you.

After buying popcorn and water, Aegon led the way to your numbered theater to watch Shrek 2. At first you wanted to sit up front but he pulled you away to the rows in the back.

“No one needs to know you're high,” he said as you made your way up the stairs.

“But you know I'm high,” you observed.

“I'm the one that got you high, kitten.”

“Oh, yeah.”

As you sat down in your chair, all you could think about was getting as close to Aegon as possible. Thankfully, these were the newer, fancier theater chairs. You reclined your chair and moved the armrest out of the way so you could lean on Aegon.

“You and popcorn,” you said as you snuggled up to him. “The best combination ever.”

“Don't forget Shrek.”

“And Shrek.”

Aegon kissed the top of your head as the lights went down and the movie began.

While Shrek 2 was already one of the funniest moments of all time, watching it high made it even funnier.

“Prince Charming looks like Jason,” you whispered, eyes wide. “I bet his dick is small like Jason’s, too.”

Aegon choked on his water. He stole a look at you but all he saw was a girl high as fuck while watching Shrek 2. Gods, he wanted to kiss you then and there.

The movie continued with your constant one liners about how everything in Shrek related to something or someone in your life. Somehow you were Shrek, Fiona was Aegon (which he was happy about), Donkey was Helaena, and Puss in Boots was Jace. To you, it all made sense. To Aegon, it was simply blabbering that entertained him.

As the credits rolled on the screen, you lolled your head against Aegon’s shoulder once again. “I’m tired, Aeg.”

“You’re coming down from your high, kitten,” he assured you. “Time to get up and head home.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You slunk down in your seat.

Aegon laughed. “They’re gonna kick us out anyway if you don’t get up. What if I helped you?”

You held out both arms. “Yes, please.”

Aegon moved to stand in front of you to pull you up. Instead of letting go, however, he tucked you into his side. Together, you made your way out of the movie theater.

“Can we go to your place?” you asked him as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“No, I’m going to drop you off at my sister’s.”

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. “Why? Do you not like me?”

“That’s not it. You’re high and I’m going to take care of you.”

Your mood instantly switched. “I’d love for you to take care of me.” Heat began pooling in your belly while you placed a hand on his thigh.

Reluctantly, Aegon moved your hand off of him. “Not like that. I’m going to be responsible this one time and take you back to Helaena’s.”

“Come on, be irrisp, irrrrsp, irrisponble this one time.”

“If you want to be in my bed you’re going to have to be sober, kitten.”

You crossed your arms. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“I know, what a bore.” He turned into the driveway. “Time to go.” He walked over to your side to open the door and walk you to the front. “I loved tonight.”

“I love you too, Aegon,” you yawned.

Aegon stopped, stunned. “I think you mean you loved tonight.”

You hummed. “No, I love you.”

He nodded his head, mouth slightly agape, as he took you Helaena’s room. When he knocked on the door Helaena popped out.

Her eyes instantly went to you, leaning all your weight on Aegon. “What did you do?!”

Aegon shrugged. “She wanted to get high so I let her. I only got buzzed but she is definitely high.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s loud,” you moaned. “And bright.”

“Gods, get her in here.” Helaena motioned for Aegon to bring you into the room.

Immediately, you went for the bed and flopped down. Aegon was careful as he tucked you in. Helanea watched in awe of how sweet he was being to you. As soon as you drifted off to sleep, Helaena took Aegon into the hallway to talk.

“Have you been like this all night?” she questioned.

“You mean like the wonderful gentleman I am? Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so kind to her?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, Hel. I like her.”

“No, when you like girls you just charm them and then fuck them. This is the second date you’ve gone on with her. Something is up.”

Aegon ran his hand down his face. “Let me do this, just once, let me be the good guy.”

Helaena looked at him warily. “Fine. But if you do anything to hurt her, I will personally destroy your life.”

#fics by bean #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #modern!aegon #hotd #hotd fic #aegon ii targaryen #hotd au #modern au

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Fake Boyfriend Part 2

I was going to put this up tonight, but I have my son's PTC tonight and I won't have time, so you get it early.

Part 1

***

Eddie did the bravest thing he had ever done in his life and took the remaining two steps forward closing the gap between them so close that he could feel Steve’s heat radiating off him in waves.

Steve gasped. “Look, Caleb,” he said in a hushed tone, “I’ve got to go, he’s here now, we had plans today.” And then Steve did the most unhinged thing he had ever seen someone do. He let go of the phone as the taut cord sprang back toward the cradle, the phone landing with a clatter on the counter.

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “Did you mean that? Did you mean what–mean everything you said?” He let his backpack, notebook and pen fall to the floor.

“I meant it all, Eds,” Steve whispered. “All but that bit about being grateful to call you mine, because you aren’t.” His lips quivered as he let out shuddering breath of his own. He ducked his head.

Eddie cupped his face with his hands and gently lifted Steve’s face. They were now barely a hair’s breadth from each other. “You wanting to change that, sweetheart?”

Steve gasped and that was all the acknowledgment Eddie needed. He closed the distance and pressed their lips together at long last.

When they broke apart, Steve panted, trying to catch his breath and pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t want to hear you dissing on your intelligence again, you hear me?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”

“Because you suggesting I that pretend you were my boyfriend,” Steve explained, “was the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Eddie turned his head to the side to laugh out loud. He turned back to Steve, a big smile on his face, “Alright, darlin’, you’ve got me there.”

Steve kissed him again and he let slip a delighted hum. This really was the best idea he’d ever had. He broke off the kiss with a frown.

“You okay, Eds?” Steve asked, confused.

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Is that–is Caleb still on the line?”

Steve furrowed his brow and concentrated on sounds in the room. He reluctantly let go of Eddie and walked slowly toward the phone. And sure enough as he got close enough he could make out Caleb shouting for him to come back.

Steve sighed and hit the phone hook and held the button down for a moment or two. He released the button to hear the sweet, sweet sound of the dial tone.

He walked back to Eddie. “There, that should take care of the problem.”

Eddie looked around him to see the receiver was still on the counter top. He looked back at Steve. “Aren’t you going to hang up the phone?”

Steve shrugged. “And risk having that asshole call back? No thanks.”

Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But what about other people trying to get a hold of you?”

“Anyone important enough will know to try the walkies next,” Steve said with a soft smile. “For everyone else, if they bring it up, I’ll just say that I was being harassed and that it was Caleb’s fault they couldn’t get through.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, all right. You got me there.” He leaned forward to kiss Steve again when the walkie on top of the fridge crackled to life.

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice came through, hesitant and unsure. “Are you there, over?”

Steve raised an eyebrow and Eddie huffed out a laugh. Steve picked up the walkie-talkie and said, “I’m here, over.”

Dustin’s sigh could be felt throughout the room. “It’s just your line has been busy for awhile and I may have panicked a little.” Steve could almost see him wave his arms as he added, “But only a little.”

There was a pause.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, “over.”

Steve’s expression softened. “Yeah, bud. I’m okay.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. Steve mouthed back ‘Byers’.

“Oh.” Eddie had heard all about that part of the Vecna fiasco when he was laid up in bed in the hospital waiting for the government to come through with his release papers.

“Is that Eddie, over?” Dustin asked.

Eddie and Steve snickered.

“Yeah,” Steve replied. “It’s Thursday, it’s our day to hang out, remember?” Dustin didn’t answer so he heaved a sigh. “Over.”

“Today is Thursday?” Dustin asked mournfully. “I thought it was Wednesday. Shit.”

Steve waited for him to further explain, because it might take him a moment, Dustin would eventually would.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“There was this special one-time re-screening of ‘The Watcher in the Woods’,” Dustin continued, “that was going to be playing at the Hawk yesterday and I was going to ask you wanted to go with me. None of the other guys like horror movies anymore and I think you’d love it.” A beat and then, “Over.”

Eddie and Steve shared equally distraught expressions as Steve replied, “Yeah, Dusty, that does sound like it would have been fun. I’m sorry we missed it, over.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I bothered you guys for nothing.”

“No, bud, no,” Steve cooed. “You didn’t bother us at all.”

“How about this, Dusty buns,” Eddie teased, “why don’t you rent the movie from Family Video and bring it over tomorrow for the three of us to watch?”

“I’ll get treats and sodas, too,” Steve added.

“Really?” Dustin asked, sounding more cheerful. “You guys would really do that for me?”

“Hell yeah,” Eddie said, a great big goofy grin over taking his face. “It sounds cool.”

“Thanks, guys,” Dustin said. “I’ll see you tomorrow–”

“Before you go,” Steve said cutting him off, “could you pass along to the rest of the Party that my phone is off the hook because some asshole won’t leave me alone, over.”

“It’s Caleb, huh?” Dustin said with a sigh. “That jerk needs to stop harassing you, man. Over.”

“Right in one, kiddo,” Steve said. “I’m hoping by tying up the phone line means he gets the message and leaves me alone, over.”

“Roger that,” Dustin said. “Over and out!”

Steve shook his head and put the walkie on the counter.

Eddie pulled Steve back in close. “So...how much time do you think we actually have before we are invaded by feral teenagers?”

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck. “They are so much better at respecting other people’s boundaries these days, so... all day.”

Eddie hummed. “Would the return of the Byers happen to have anything to do with that sudden change?”

Steve rubbed their noses together. “I really don’t recommend telling the Wonder Twins that boundaries don’t matter or only selectively matter.”

Eddie snorted. The Wonder Twins was a really good nickname for Will and El after everything he’d seen them do.

“So what I’m hearing,” he murmured, pulling Steve flush against him, “is that we have the whole day to ourselves.”

“Yep,” Steve replied, licking his upper lip slowly.

Eddie licked the top row of his teeth thoughtfully. “I’ve got ideas of how we can fill that time, baby.”

“Me too.”

Eddie picked up his backpack and stuffed the pen and notebook back in it. He straightened up and grabbed Steve by the wrist.

“Starting with the reason I’m here!” he cackled. “Your D&D character!”

Steve let out a startled laugh. “What!”

Eddie threw his backpack on the sofa, but continued to pull Steve along. Steve looked at the bag in confusion as Eddie dragged him through the living room and into the hall.

At the base of the stairs, Eddie yanked on Steve pulling them together again. Steve yelped as they were suddenly face to face again.

“I was only joking, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured against Steve’s lips. “The things I want to do with you are far more fun and much sexier then D&D.”

Steve laughed. “Just don’t let the kids hear you say that.”

Eddie kissed him soundly. “They’ll learn when they get older.”

“So about these plans...” Steve asked, low and seductive.

Eddie ran his hands down his back to grasp those two perfect globes of ass. “Oh we are going to have a good time, baby.”

Steve chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

They ran up the stairs and slammed Steve’s bedroom door behind them. Thank god for Eddie’s brilliant and quick thinking, Steve thought as Eddie walked them toward the bed. Otherwise who knows how long they would have taken to get here.

Eddie, for his part never would have thought in his wildest dreams that by suggesting Steve pretend they were boyfriends that they would actually get here.

He loved it when his quick thinking turned out better than he planned. This time it netted him a boyfriend out of the deal.

And well... after that, they weren’t thinking of anything really.

***

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @aol19 @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @itsall-taken @scheodingers-muppet @vecnuthy @mira-jadeamethyst @lololol-1234 @tinyplanet95 @beckkthewreck @missmagillicuddy @haelreadsshit @ellietheasexylibrarian @yikes-a-bee @finntheehumaneater

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #fake relationship #for all of ten minutes #because they dorks are that far gone for each other

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snowysosturn · 4 days ago

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Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 28

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mention of guns, description of murder, description of shooting, description of dead body, arguments

The room felt suffocating after we watched the footage. It was as if all the air had been sucked out, leaving nothing but a heavy, oppressive silence. My hands were trembling, still resting on the keyboard where I’d paused the video. The image of Vince standing over Danny’s lifeless body was frozen on the screen, but it was seared into my mind.

I forced myself to breathe, in and out, but the weight in my chest wouldn’t ease. Turning to look at the others, I saw their reactions mirrored my own. Chris stood behind me, his face pale and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack. His eyes were glued to the screen, a storm of rage and disbelief swirling in their depths.

Willow sat on the edge of the couch, her head bowed and her hands clasped together like she was praying. She looked like she might be sick. Nate was the only one moving, pacing back and forth across the room like he was trying to outrun the images we’d just witnessed.

No one said anything for a long time. The silence was unbearable, but none of us seemed to know how to break it. Finally, I closed down the computer, shutting off the horrific scene but not the emotions that came with it.

“That bastard” Nate spat, stopping his pacing to glare at the now-blank screen. “He didn’t even hesitate.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He-he just killed him. Like it was nothing.”

Chris turned away from the screen, rubbing a hand over his face.

Willow let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how you guys deal with this. How you’ve been dealing with it. This is..this is so much worse than I thought.”

“It’s not just Danny” I said, my voice trembling but steadying with each word. “If we’ve seen this, imagine how much worse Vince has done that we don’t know about. You could’ve ended up like this too Chris. He’s dangerous, and if we don’t do something, he’ll keep getting away with it.”

Chris moved closer to me, his voice low. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re right. We can’t stop now. This is our chance to take him down.”

I looked at him, my chest tightening at the pain and determination in his expression. He was trying to be strong, but I could see the cracks forming beneath the surface.

“We need to talk about what happens next” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “For now, Chris, it’s not safe for you to leave this place. Vince has people everywhere, and if they see you, it’s game over. You have to stay here.”

Chris looked up at me, his jaw tightening. “You’re saying I just sit here while the rest of you go back and forth, putting yourselves at risk? I can’t-”

“You have to.” I interrupted firmly. “If Vince realizes you’re alive, all of this falls apart. He’ll come after you, and he won’t hesitate. You staying here isn’t just about your safety, it’s about giving us a chance to end this.”

Willow nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s right. This place is out of the way, and no one knows you’re here. It’s the safest option, for now.”

Chris exhaled. “And what about the rest of you?“

We’ll be careful” Nate said, his voice firm. “We’ll keep our heads down, do what we need to do, and get out. Besides..” He hesitated, his eyes narrowing in thought. “When the rest of the Crimson Cartel sees that footage, sees what Vince did to Danny, they’ll turn on him. You know how much Danny meant to everyone.”

Chris nodded slowly, his expression darkening. “None of the guys in the footage were part of Crimson. They weren’t our people. But Danny.” His voice broke slightly, and he looked away.

“Everyone loved him” I said softly, reaching for Chris’s hand. “When they find out Vince is behind his death, they won’t stand by him. They’ll turn.”

Chris finally nodded, his grip tightening on my hand. “Fine. I’ll stay. But promise me you’ll all be careful out there. I can’t-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I just can’t lose anyone else.”

“You won’t” I said firmly. “We’ve got this. We’re going to end this.”

Willow stood up, brushing off her hands. “Well, if that’s settled, I’m making a list of what we’ll need for the back and forth trips. Food, clothes, maybe even disguises for when we’re in Boston.”

Chris snorted softly, the faintest trace of a smile appearing. “Disguises? What, are we pulling a heist now?”

Willow smirked. “If the shoe fits.”

The mood lightened just a little, and for the first time in what felt like hours, I saw a hint of hope in Chris’s eyes. We weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least we had a plan. And as long as we stuck together, I believed we could see it through.

The first rays of sunlight started peeking through the curtains, and the exhaustion of the night finally caught up with all of us. Willow was the head to bed, stretching her arms over her head and muttering something about getting at least a couple of hours of sleep before her brain gave out.

“I think we all need it” I said, standing up. My legs felt like jelly, and my head pounded from the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through me all night.

Willow and Nate had already disappeared into their rooms, leaving Chris and I standing in the dimly lit living room. I placed a hand on his arm. “You should sleep too. We’ll figure everything out in the morning, or, well, later today.”

He gave me a faint smile, brushing his thumb across my knuckles before heading toward our room.

Once he was gone, I set an alarm for 10am and followed him toward our room, flopping onto the bed. My body was begging for rest, but my mind raced with everything that lay ahead.

By now, I’d practically abandoned my college routine. The thought of catching up on my workload made my chest tighten with anxiety, but I clung to the hope that my professor would understand. Surely, with the information I had to share, he’d see why I’d been so preoccupied.

Before I could spiral too far, I made a mental note to ask Nate in the morning if he wanted to drive back to Boston with me.

I stared at the ceiling for a long moment before finally closing my eyes. The sun was almost fully risen now, casting a soft glow through the window, but for the first time in days, I let myself give in to the pull of sleep.

The buzz of my alarm startled me awake, yanking me from a restless sleep. For a moment, I stared at the ceiling, disoriented, until everything from the night before came rushing back. I groaned softly, rolling over to check my phone. It was already 10:15. I’d snoozed my alarm more times than I realized.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror was a harsh reminder of the toll this week had taken, dark circles ringed my eyes, and my hair was a mess. I looked like I’d been through hell, and in a way, I had.

By the time I made my way into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted me. Nate was already there, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand. He looked equally worn out, his usual energy dulled by the weight of the situation.

“Morning” he muttered, his voice rough.

“Morning” I replied, grabbing a mug and pouring myself a cup. The first sip was bliss, the caffeine slowly tricking my body into a false sense of alertness.

We stood in silence for a while, the events of the past 24 hours hanging heavily in the air. It was Nate who finally broke it. “What’s the plan today?”

“I need to head back to Boston” I said. “I left my laptop at home, and I have to figure out what to say to my professor. At this rate, I’ve probably fallen so far behind, but... I don’t know, maybe if I explain some of this, he’ll cut me some slack.”

“You think you’ll tell him everything?” Nate asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Not everything,” I said quickly. “Just enough to make it clear that I’ve been dealing with something serious. I’ll frame it around the legal side of things, like how I’m trying to help someone navigate.. a dangerous situation.”

Nate nodded, considering my words. “I’ll drive you back” he offered.

“You sure? You’ve barely slept.”

“So have you” he countered. “Besides, it’s better if we stick together for now. You don’t need to be traveling alone, not with everything that’s going on.”

I gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

As we got ready to leave, I grabbed my burner phone from the counter and hesitated. “I think I’ll leave this here” I said, placing it back down. “I don’t want to risk bringing it into the city.”

“Smart move” Nate said, already heading for the door. I made sure I had the USB in my pocket and followed him out.

The drive back to Boston started in silence, both of us too drained to muster small talk. I stared out the window, watching the trees blur into the cityscape as we approached the familiar streets. The normalcy of it all felt jarring. How could everything look so unchanged when my entire world had been flipped upside down?

“You doing okay?” Nate asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

I turned to him, offering a faint smile. “Define ‘okay.’”

He smirked faintly, his eyes still on the road. “Fair point.”

“Thanks for driving me” I said after a beat.

“Don’t mention it” he said. “You’ve been holding up pretty damn well through all this, you know.”

I let out a dry laugh. “If by ‘holding up,’ you mean barely keeping it together, then sure.”

Nate glanced at me briefly, a rare softness in his expression. “You’re tougher than you think. Not many people would have stuck around, let alone tried to help us the way you have.”

The unexpected compliment made my cheeks warm. “Thanks, Nate. That means a lot coming from you.”

When we finally pulled up to my house, I felt a strange mix of relief and unease. It had only been over 12 hours since I’d been home, and stepping out of the car felt surreal, like I was returning to a life that no longer fit.

“I’ll check in with my professor and try get a meeting with him today” I told Nate as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Do you want to meet me back here at 5pm?”

“Yeah” he said with a nod. “We can head back then.”

“Alright. Stay safe, okay?”

“You too.”

I watched him drive off before turning to face the front door of my house. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. I made my way to the kitchen, where my normal phone sat abandoned on the counter. Picking it up, I unlocked the screen, only to be met with a flurry of missed notifications. Emails, texts, and calendar reminders from college flooded my home screen, each one a stark reminder of how much I’d let slip through the cracks.

Ignoring the overwhelming wave of responsibility, I opened Google and searched for my professor's office phone number. Professor Hawkins was one of the few people I trusted, someone who had always been approachable and understanding. If anyone could offer guidance without prying too much, it was him.

I hesitated for a moment, my thumb hovering over his office number. What would I even say? How could I explain everything without giving too much away?

Taking a deep breath, I tapped the number and held the phone to my ear. It rang twice before a familiar, warm voice answered.

“Professor Hawkins speaking.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s Y/n Y/l/n..” I said, trying to steady my voice.

“Y/n! I was wondering when I’d hear from you. You’ve been absent from class for over a week, is everything alright?”

“Sort of..” I said, my words faltering. “I’ve been dealing with.. a complicated situation. I was hoping I could meet with you to explain and maybe get some guidance on how to move forward. It’s related to my studies, well, partly, but it’s also personal.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I held my breath, worried he might dismiss me outright.

“Of course” he said finally. “I have some time this afternoon. Would 2pm work for you?”

Relief flooded through me. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you so much professor.”

“Not a problem, Y/n. I’ll see you in my office at 2.”

As I hung up, I leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply. This was a step forward, a small one, but forward nonetheless.

I grabbed my laptop from my desk and slipped it into my bag along with a notebook. My

After double checking that I had everything I needed, I locked up the house and headed to campus.

Chris’s POV

The morning light seeped through the thin curtains of the Airbnb, casting a golden hue across the room, I sat up, rubbing my face to shake off the remnants of sleep. My mind was still clouded by the events of last night. But now, there was an absence I couldn’t ignore. Y/n wasn’t next to me. I got up and made my way to the living room.

“Morning” Willow’s voice broke the silence as she stepped into the room, a mug of coffee in hand. She was already dressed, looking far more put together than I felt.

“Morning? It’s 2pm..” I muttered, glancing toward the hallway. “Where’s Y/n? And Nate?”

“They left early. Y/n needed to take care of some things back in Boston, and Nate’s her chauffeur for the day.” She smirked, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

I frowned, the thought of Y/n leaving without a word twisting in my chest. “Did she say anything before she left?”

“Something about needing to talk to her professor” Willow said, waving her hand dismissively. “Relax, she’ll be back. You’re not gonna lose her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I huffed, leaning back against the couch.

Anyway, how’re you holding up after last night?”

I glanced at her, debating how honest I wanted to be. “It’s a lot. Seeing that footage, knowing what Vince did.. it just makes me feel like...” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what I feel. Anger? Guilt? Fear? All of it, I guess.”

Willow nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah, it’s a lot to process. You’re not the only one who’s scared, though. We all are.”

I tilted my head, studying her. “How’d you and Nate not lose your minds waiting for the cops to clear last night? Four hours is a hell of a long time to sit in a car.”

Her lips curved into a sly smile. “Oh, we found ways to pass the time.”

I blinked, the suggestive tone in her voice catching me off guard. “Wait a second.. Are you saying-”

Willow cut me off with a laugh. “I’m not saying anything. But, hypothetically, if I were, it’s none of your business, Chris.”

I smirked, leaning forward. “You like him, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “Nate’s.. different. He’s got this rough exterior, but underneath all that, he’s a good guy. And, well, spending hours in close quarters tends to make you notice things.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Who would’ve thought? You and Nate.”

Willow shrugged, setting her mug down. “Enough about me. What about you? You’ve been glued to Y/n ever since this whole mess started. It’s pretty obvious you’re head over heels for her.”

“Yeah, I love her. I’m not gonna deny that.”

Willow’s gaze softened. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”

I nodded, exhaling slowly. “I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I know that sounds crazy, especially with everything going on, but it’s the truth. She’s the one, Willow. And I want to make that clear, not just now, but when this is all over.”

Willow smiled, her expression unexpectedly kind. “You’re a good guy, Chris. And she knows it. She wouldn’t be here, sticking by you through all this, if she didn’t feel the same way.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, filling me with a mix of hope and determination. “Thanks” I said, my voice quieter.

“Don’t thank me yet” Willow teased, standing up. “Just don’t screw it up, alright?”

I chuckled, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’m bored without social media.. Want to make burner Instagram accounts?” Willow suggests.

Y/n’s POV

By the time I arrived on campus, my stomach was in knots. This wasn’t just about legal theory or hypotheticals. This was real, messy and dangerous. I smoothed my blazer, took a deep breath, and knocked twice.

“Come in” his deep voice called.

I stepped inside, my hands gripping the strap of my bag. Professor Hawkins was at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed a thick stack of papers. He looked up, and his sharp, analytical gaze met mine.

“Miss Y/l/n” he said, gesturing for me to sit. “It’s nice to see you! I was beginning to think you’d dropped out of my class.”

“I know, I’m sorry..” I admitted, lowering myself into the chair. “I’ve had some personal matters to deal with, but I’m here because I need your guidance.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“There’s a situation I’ve gotten involved in, a dangerous one” I began carefully. “It’s about a criminal operation in Boston. I have evidence, but I’m scared to go to the police because it could put me and the people I care about in danger.”

At that, his expression sharpened, and he leaned forward. “Go on.”

“It’s about Vince Moretti..” I said, watching for a reaction. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew I had his attention.

“Moretti” he echoed, his tone measured. “I’ve been looking for a way to dismantle his operation for years. The drug feud in Boston is destroying lives, but no one talks. Everyone is either too scared or too loyal to open up. If you have evidence, Miss Y/l/n, you might have what we need to take him down.”

Hearing that sent a chill through me. “I have video footage of Moretti committing murder..” I said quietly. “But I need to do this in a way that keeps me out of it. The people I care about, they’re already too close to all of this.”

Hawkins studied me for a moment before nodding. “There was a raid at the docks last night, but my contacts in law enforcement have been quiet, which means they don’t know exactly who it's linked to or they’re keeping what they did find under wraps. If you have something concrete, it needs to stay quiet. The last thing you want is for Moretti to catch wind of it before law enforcement can act.”

“I understand” I said. “This evidence could be the turning point, but I can’t afford for it to lead back to me. Can you help?”

I paused, suddenly realizing how much trust I was putting in Hawkins by sharing this information. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not with so much on the line. My hand instinctively went to my bag, and I pulled out the small, nondescript USB drive.

“I.. I have the footage with me” I said, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my stomach. “It’s all on here. What happened with Vince and Danny.. the moment Vince killed him.”

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem surprised, though his gaze flicked briefly to the USB in my hand. He held out his hand, and I hesitated for a moment before passing it to him.

He examined the drive, turning it over in his fingers as if weighing the decision on what to do next. “You’re sure this footage is unaltered? No editing or manipulation?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s untouched. I’ve kept it safe.”

Hawkins didn’t say anything for a moment. He seemed to be processing, considering what he was about to dive into. Finally, he spoke.

“Alright. I’ll take a look at it. But you understand this is a delicate situation. If this footage confirms what you say, then we’re dealing with a murder, and Moretti won’t let it slide easily. His influence is far reaching, and the moment this gets out.. it won’t just be you at risk.”

“I know” I said quietly. “But I can’t just sit back anymore. This needs to be dealt with, and I need to know I did everything I could to stop him. For my own peace of mind, and for the people I care about.”

He nodded, his eyes softening just a fraction. “I get it. I’ll keep this in safe hands. But you need to prepare yourself. There’s no going back once this is in motion.”

“I’m ready” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I truly was.

Hawkins gave me a sharp nod before getting up and walking to his desk, plugging the USB into his computer. As the screen came alive with the footage, I stood frozen, feeling the weight of what was to come. My heart beat louder in my chest, knowing that once the truth was revealed, there would be no turning back.

After a few moments, Hawkins turned to face me. “This is solid. You’ve done well to get this footage. But now the hard part begins.”

“I know” I whispered, my stomach twisting.

Hawkins leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he thought. After a long silence, he looked at me, his expression serious.

“You know, Y/n..” he said, voice low but steady, “There’s a way we can handle this without you directly being involved. If we go about it anonymously, if we can release this evidence to the right people without your name attached, then the state can take it from there. We get the authorities involved, and it’s their job to pursue it, not yours.”

I blinked, my mind spinning at the possibility. "You mean.. you think we could turn this over without anyone finding out it was me who gave them the footage?"

“Exactly” Hawkins confirmed, leaning forward, his gaze unwavering. “If we can make sure no one knows where this evidence came from, if we keep your identity out of it entirely, then the state can arrest Vince without putting you or your loved ones at risk. You won’t be the one in the line of fire.”

I let out a breath, feeling a sliver of relief. The weight of what he was offering began to sink in. I’d been terrified, every day, that my involvement would make me a target, or worse, put Chris, Nate, and Willow in harm's way too. The thought of remaining anonymous, of not having to watch my every step, was a relief. But at the same time, it felt like I was still hiding from the truth.

“So, how would we even get this to the right people without anyone knowing?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the logistics of it all.

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my willingness to question the plan. “There’s a network. I have a few connections in law enforcement who are more than willing to work discreetly. We can get the footage into the hands of the right people who’ll work behind the scenes to make sure Vince is arrested, while keeping everything under wraps. But you need to understand, once this is out there, it can’t be retracted. If it leaks or anyone catches wind of who helped, it could undo everything.”

I nodded slowly, processing the risk. It seemed like the perfect solution. It would protect me, Chris, and everyone else involved, while still putting Vince away.

“I understand” I said, feeling the weight of his words. “But how do we make sure it goes through? How do we ensure that it doesn’t get buried or lost in the system?”

Hawkins smiled faintly, though his eyes remained sharp. “That’s where I come in. I’ll make sure it gets to the right people, the ones who are beyond Vince’s reach. But you need to trust me on this. If you want to keep this as clean and anonymous as possible, you can’t be involved directly from here on out. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to require patience, but in the end, it’ll be worth it.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in. If I did this, if I let Hawkins handle it from here,I would be taking the risk of putting everything in his hands. But at the same time, it was the only way I could be sure that the right thing was done, without endangering myself or the people I loved.

“You have my trust” I said quietly. “I’ll let you handle it. I just want Vince gone. I want him out of our lives.”

Hawkins nodded, his expression firm. “I’ll do everything I can to make that happen. I’ll get the ball rolling right away. But remember, you can’t talk about this to anyone. Not even your closest friends. The less you say, the safer you’ll be.”

“I get it” I whispered, my heart racing. “Thank you, Professor Hawkins. I don’t know what else to say. Just.. please make sure this works.”

“I will” he said, voice steady and confident. “Now go. I’ll handle the rest from here.”

I left his office with a heavy heart but a renewed sense of hope. This was the right move, the only way to stop Vince without risking everything. I finally felt like I could breathe, if only for a moment. The end was in sight.

–

By 5pm, I was standing at the window, waiting for Nate to arrive. The sound of a car pulling into my driveway snapped me out of my thoughts, knowing we were about to head back into the chaos once again.

I grabbed my things and stepped outside, walking toward the car quickly before getting in.

"Did you get to talk to your professor?" Nate asked, his expression a little more serious than usual, probably from everything that had gone down recently.

"Yeah" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I got a call from him again about thirty minutes ago. The police have the footage now, but.. Vince is nowhere to be found since the raid last night. They can trace everything back to him, but without him in custody, it's like a waiting game."

Nate's expression shifted, brows furrowing. "That’s.. not good. So, they’ve got everything, but no Vince?"

"Exactly" I replied.

Nate’s grip on the wheel tightened, and his jaw set as he drove. "This isn’t good" he muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror as if expecting someone to be following. "The whole point of getting this footage was to put the pressure on Vince, but if he’s nowhere to be found.." He trailed off, frustration clear in his voice.

I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was never one to be idle when something was wrong, and the thought of Vince slipping through their fingers was eating away at him.

"Maybe he’s hiding" I suggested, though it didn’t feel like much of an answer. "He’s got resources, people who could help him disappear, but they're probably piecing things together, hoping someone will slip up, reveal his whereabouts, but right now.. it’s just a matter of time. Professor Hawkins said once there’s an arrest, it’ll be all over the news" I added, my voice laced with uncertainty.

"Yeah, I know" Nate growled. "But it’s not just that. He’s smart enough to keep a low profile. If the cops can’t find him now, it means he’s pulling strings, keeping his head down, and the longer he does that, the longer it’ll be before he’s found. It’s like we’re chasing a shadow."

Nate stayed silent for a while, focusing on the road. "I just don’t know how much longer we can wait for that. We need him caught now. If we wait too long, everything’s going to fall apart." His words were sharp, frustration lacing each word.

"Well.." I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "the cops are looking. They’re not going to stop just because Vince’s gone to ground. We need to trust that they’ll catch up with him. We’ve done everything we can. And we need to make sure we just lay low now."

When we finally pulled into the driveway of the Airbnb, stepped out of the car, still processing everything that had happened with Professor Hawkins, and headed toward the front door, Nate trailing closely behind me.

As we walked inside, the soft murmur of voices filled the air. Willow was in the kitchen, scrolling on her burner and Chris was lounging on the couch, his expression neutral but tired. When he saw us, he sat up straighter, his eyes immediately locking on mine.

"How did things go?" he asked, his voice low, his gaze flickering between me and Nate.

I nodded, taking a seat at the table. "We’ve got good news and bad news" I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "The footage is in the right hands, and Vince can be linked to everything, but.. he’s gone."

"Yeah" Nate added, rubbing the back of his neck. "The police can’t find him, and he’s laying low since the raid. No one knows where he is. They can’t even get close to him right now."

Willow frowned, putting down the papers she was holding. "That’s not great" she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "But at least we’re making progress, right?"

"Not enough" Nate replied, his frustration clear. "We don’t have time to wait around for Vince to come out of hiding" Nate muttered. "We need to do more. We need him behind bars sooner, not later."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "The police have the footage. There’s nothing more we can do right now. We just have to be patient."

He let out an exasperated breath, pacing around the living room. "Patient? Patience isn’t going to get him behind bars! He’s slipping through the cracks, and we're just standing here, waiting for him to screw us over again."

"I know you're angry" I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "but there’s nothing we can do to force their hand right now. If we make any noise, it'll mess everything up. The best thing we can do is stay silent and let the police handle it."

Nate stopped pacing and glared at me. "Stay silent? We’ve been silent this whole time, Y/n!"

I could hear the frustration in his voice, and I understood. We’d all been waiting for something, anything to happen. But rushing things now would only make it worse.

"We're not doing nothing" I said, my tone softer but firm. "We’ve done everything we can. We got the footage, we tipped the cops off, and now it’s in their hands. Vince is running out of options. He’ll slip up. He has to."

Nate crossed his arms over his chest, still scowling “I’m going to bed.” Shaking his head as he made his way down the hallway toward one of the bedrooms. I could tell he was still seething with anger, unable to let go of the frustration that had built up. I didn’t blame him, but for now, we all needed a break.

Willow and I plopped down on the couch next to Chris, flipping through TV channels to put a news channel on, in case any news broke. The silence between us was tense, each of us processing everything in our own way. Every update on the news made my stomach twist tighter. No word on Vince yet. But we kept watching, hoping for some shift that would give us more clarity.

Willow shifted beside me. "You know" she said, breaking the silence, "Chris and I set up burner Instagram accounts today while you were talking to Hawkins."

I glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You did?"

She nodded, her lips quirking into a smile. "Yeah. I thought it might be useful, you know, staying low key while we keep track of things. Still having some sense of normality."

"Good thinking" I said, reaching for my phone. "Guess I’ll set one up too then."

We sat there, the murmurs of the TV in the background, as Chris and Willow helped me create a burner account. It didn’t take long, and soon enough, I was scrolling through random pages, looking at reels.

Time seemed to stretch on as we sat there, clicking through posts, our minds occupied with the task but constantly flicking back to the news, half expecting to see something break. The quiet ticking of the clock felt like it was counting down to something, but we had no idea what.

After about an hour, the silence in the room was finally broken by Chris. He leaned forward, his eyes glued to his phone screen, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Theres no fucking way" Chris muttered under his breath. His voice was a mix of disbelief and anger.

Willow and I exchanged a glance, both leaning in, asking in unison, "What’s wrong?"

Chris's fingers moved rapidly across the screen as he scrolled through, shaking his head in frustration. "I was being nosey" he said, his voice tight. "I was checking out one of the H Block guys’ pages. They-"

His words were cut off as he turned the screen toward us, and my heart dropped into my stomach. There it was. The footage.

The grainy, shaky camera work was unmistakable, the same one we'd watched hours ago on that USB, only now it was out there in the world. The caption above it was a slap to the face: "Crimson scum, killing your own 🐀"

My breath hitched in my chest, and I felt Willow’s eyes on me as my stomach twisted. I felt sick, my hands trembling as I reached for the phone to get a closer look. But even before I could process it all, my mind was racing. This could change everything.

"Shit" Willow breathed, leaning back into the couch. "This is bad. This is really bad."

Chris exhaled sharply, his eyes dark with anger and disbelief. "Yeah. And it's all over Instagram now.”

"How did they get this?" I whispered, the question more to myself than anyone else.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick with the weight of the unspoken truth. Chris jumped up from the couch, his legs moving before his mind fully caught up with the frustration building inside him. "No" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to convince himself that this wasn’t real. "There’s no fucking way..."

But as soon as he moved toward the hall, the door to one of the bedrooms creaked open, and there stood Nate, leaning against the doorframe. He was holding his phone, his expression unreadable as he watched Chris’s every move. The moment their eyes locked, I felt the air get even heavier. Something was about to snap.

Chris’s voice was low, simmering with anger. "You fucking leaked it, didn’t you?" he demanded, his gaze hard as steel.

Nate didn't flinch. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Chris with a mixture of defiance and coldness.

“I did what I had to do" Nate said through clenched teeth, his voice low and almost challenging. "You think I’m just gonna sit here while Vince gets away with everything? While Danny’s gone? I had to do something."

Chris shook his head, pacing in frustration. "You think that’s the way to fix things? You put everything at risk. Everything we've been working toward. Y/n told you to stay quiet, and you fucking ignored her." He stopped, turning to face Nate with a look of disbelief. "You could have trusted us, man. We could’ve handled this the right way."

Nate’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "The right way? There is no ‘right way’ when it comes to this shit, Chris. I didn’t make this mess, but I’ll be damned if I sit around waiting for Vince to tear apart everything we’ve been working for. Crimson’s not just gonna sit on their hands, pretending like everything’s fine. They needed to know-"

"That’s not how you do it!" Chris interrupted, his voice rising. "You don’t just act on impulse, you don’t just go and leak shit to a rival gang, especially not with the people we care about in danger. What if someone tracks it back to us? What if this blows up in our faces?"

"Then so be it" Nate shot back, his voice colder now. "I don’t care anymore. I just want Vince to pay for what he did. I want him gone." He hesitated, his gaze flickering to me and Willow on the couch. "I had to make a move. So I sent it to H Block. They don’t know it was me, but they’re gonna spread it around, and then Crimson won’t have any choice but to turn on Vince. They’ll start talking, and then he’ll be the one running, not us."

Willow shifted beside me, her eyes wide as she watched the back and forth between the two. Chris’s face was flushed with anger, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was trying to stay calm, but the frustration was evident.

"You’re out of your fucking mind, Nate" Chris spat, his voice barely containing the fury he was feeling. "What the hell made you think that was the right call? You really don’t get it, do you? We were trying to handle this quietly, trying to get Vince without anyone else getting hurt. And you go and throw all that out the window. Just like that."

Nate didn’t flinch. "And if I hadn’t done it? Vince would still be out there, laughing at us, thinking he can do whatever he wants. You really think I was just gonna sit back and watch that happen? Watch people we care about get hurt while I did nothing?"

The two of them were standing there, inches apart now, the tension thick enough to choke the air around us. I could see both of them on the verge of snapping, both holding on to their frustrations in the same clenched fists. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, the sound of a breaking news report cut through the silence, pulling all of our attention to the TV in the corner of the room.

"Breaking news from Boston." the anchor's voice rang out. "Authorities have confirmed that a known leader of one of Boston's major drug gangs has been arrested, on the outskirts of Massachusetts. The arrest comes following the discovery of shocking footage implicating him in a recent murder of a close affiliate related to the feud. The footage comes a day after a raid near the docks late last night, which is now being linked back to this gang."

The words hung in the air and for a split second, it felt like the room itself froze. My heart started to race as the news anchor continued. A mixture of panic and relief.

“Wow, maybe that is how you do it” Willow whispers under her breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

Chris’s voice broke prominent silence, shaky but determined. "He’s gone. This is it."

Nate, still standing with his arms crossed, didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glued to the screen, his expression unreadable. "Yeah" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "It’s done. Vince is done."

But despite the relief that seemed to come with hearing about Vince’s arrest, it was clear from Nate’s tone that it didn’t feel like a victory, not yet.

Chris and Nate made their way back to the couch. We all sat there, glued to the screen, waiting for any further details.

I knew this wasn’t over yet, but at least it was a start.

a/n: 2 more parts

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe @2prcntmilkluvr @trevorsgodmother @anonymouslyachrisgirl

#snowy speaks #snowys series #allies or affiliates?#dealer!chris #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo series #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nate doe #sturniolo x reader

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cecilysass · 8 months ago

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The Penultimate Partner Episode: Analyzing the Second-to-Last Episodes of Seasons 3-7

So I was thinking about the show’s tendency to do an episode that is explicitly about the Partnership—about the deep abiding bonds between Mulder and Scully—right before the season finale.

This doesn’t seem to happen in season 1 and 2 (the penultimate episodes are Roland and Our Town, respectively, which don’t seem to play the same role). And something different is happening in season 8 and 9, so I don't think they fit as well.

But during the show’s peak popularity, seasons 3-7, the second-to-last episode seems to be setting up baseline emotional stakes for whatever plotline is about to hit. These episodes are giving us the state of the partnership, reminding us how devoted they are to one another. They also tend to have to do with one or both partners having a distorted perception on reality that requires the other partner's intervention in some way. I’m calling them the Penultimate Partner episodes.

So can we look at the themes of each of these Partnership episodes and see development over time? I think yes. It’s gonna be long. I rewatched them all, so buckle up.

Season 3: Wetwired - partnership as trust Season 4: Demons - partnership as loyalty Season 5: Folie a Deux - partnership as shared madness Season 6: Field Trip - partnership as touchstones Season 7: Je Souhaite - partnership as happiness

Season 3: Wetwired (right before Talitha Cumi)

This episode, like several in the Penultimate Partner episode category, involves a X-file that distorts perception. Because Scully can’t trust her own senses due to the mind control, she also can’t trust Mulder, calling into question the key tenet of their partnership. (And by season three, they have definitely established trust as the bedrock.)

Her gradual mistrust of Mulder in this episode is tense and painful; you can see on her face how much she argues with herself about it even as her mind is tricking her. Others who fall victim to this mind control phenomenon wind up murdering their romantic partner, but in the end of the episode, when they’re discussing what happened in the hospital, they both seem pretty unsurprised that Scully’s paranoia focused on Mulder. They both know, late season three, how crucial trust is between them. They understand that it’s Scully’s worst fear that Mulder would betray her. It’s not even news to them.

What Mulder’s worst fear might be is also hinted at, although it’s unsaid. He’s furious that her life is put at risk by the mysterious informant. When Mulder believes Scully may be dead and he’s going to identify her body, his reaction is chilling. He seems to completely shut down emotionally, not even showing any reaction to the Gunmen. Tellingly, when he is offered a choice between getting answers and going to ID Scully’s body, he doesn’t hesitate—he chooses Scully. (Sometimes people claim Mulder doesn’t show this kind of commitment to her until much later, even until Home Again in season 10, so it’s interesting to see it so unequivocal here.)

I want to say that Scully’s anxiety about trusting Mulder in this episode is foreshadowing aspects of the cancer arc in the next season, but I don’t think that’s really what’s happening. This episode seems more like an entirely season 3 cap to the Anasazi / Blessing Way / Paperclip storyline, especially the murder of Melissa. Scully’s paranoia calls back Mulder’s in Anasazi, and Scully explicitly blames Mulder for her sister’s murder when she’s drawn a gun on him. Even just the fact that we're there with Maggie, who has a picture of Melissa displayed prominently, tells me that loss is supposed to be on both partners' minds. (Actually, the interaction between Mulder, Scully and Maggie is pretty amazing in this scene; they’re an emotionally complex trio who seem to be communicating on some other level. I love how when Mulder and Maggie are talking to freaked-out Scully they almost sound strangely unreal, almost like they really are speaking falsely. It allows us to imagine the scene as it looks from Scully’s point-of-view, as a massive betrayal.)

Wetwired is, technically, a mytharc episode, as this whole mind control thing seems to tie back into X and the Syndicate. Personally I think the episode’s ending, emphasizing the mytharc-related plot and X’s involvement and whatever tf was happening there, was a little misguided. For my tastes they would have done better to play up the more personal, character-based themes a little more. But I also think this episode was the first real Penultimate Partner episode, and it was setting some patterns that were going to be expanded on.

Season 4: Demons (before Gethsemane)

From the cold open, we can already tell this is already a more personal episode than Wetwired. Mulder is the one having perception problems now; he wakes from a disturbing dream, covered in blood, muddled memory. This is also technically a mytharc episode, but much more concerned with direct impact on character than Wetwired was.

Scully instantly rushes to Mulder’s aid—walks right into his shower, for heaven’s sake—and absolutely never wavers in loyalty to him, even when he looks real, real guilty and a "rational" person would be suspicious. She is in fierce, must-protect-Mulder mode throughout this entire episode, from the moment she shows up palpating his head with her hands to her back-off behavior with the cops to her badass cold “I know what you do” comment to Dr. Goldstein. She also helps Mulder see through his distorted perception, telling him "this is not the way to the truth" as he holds a gun on her.

In this Penultimate Partner episode, we see something more than simple trust going on, although there’s trust, too. Maybe the word is loyalty or devotion. We see Mulder coming apart and Scully completely and utterly devoted to him. It’s actually very clear foreshadowing for the following week’s episode, Gethsemane. Mulder isn’t stable, and he needs Scully to keep him from “los[ing] his course,” as she says in Demons’ end narration. Gethsemane will follow up on the Mulder losing-his-course idea, and also will explore the idea that Scully’s bottomless support of Mulder isn’t always good for her. (This idea is voiced especially by Bill.)

There are some ways in which this episode is a neat little bookend to Wetwired. In Wetwired, Scully flees to her mother’s house, desperate and paranoid; in Demons, Mulder, similarly unhinged, seeks out his mother at her house. In Wetwired, Scully sees things that aren’t there, and in Demons, it’s definitely implied that Mulder may be seeing things in his past that weren’t actually there. In Wetwired, Scully pulls a gun on Mulder, and in Demons, Mulder pulls one on Scully.

I adore this episode, even though it’s definitely vulnerable to the critique that Mulder acts like a self-obsessed loon and Scully a hopeless enabler lol. Especially because it comes before the Gethsemane / Redux three parter, I wish the episode would have explicitly connected his behavior to the cancer arc, as I feel like that would have made his wild choices seem more understandable. If he felt like he needed to find answers faster because he knew Scully’s time was running out and he saw it all tied together with her fate, then we would get why he was acting so rashly. It would also tie more nicely into Gethsemane, which misleads the audience into thinking Mulder has killed himself, in part, because he believes she’s been given cancer to make him believe. But again, I love this episode. Scully showing up and putting that blanket around Mulder when he’s shaking. Her hugging him at the end when he’s desolate on the floor. This shows a partnership that’s been through Paper Hearts and Memento Mori—that’s moved beyond trust alone.

Season 5: Folie a Deux (before The End)

This is another episode about perception—about one partner seeing things the other can’t. Unlike in Wetwired or Demons, however, in this episode the altered perception actually represents the real truth, something everyone else fails to understand. The episode plays around with the tropes of earlier episodes like Wetwired, at first encouraging us to think that it's a delusion that Pincus is a monster, but then convincing us, through Mulder’s eyes, that the delusion is actually reality.

As other people have observed, this episode ends up being a nice little metaphor for the whole show: Mulder knowing what no one else does, being ostracized and considered insane, asking Scully to find evidence to corroborate him and ultimately convincing her to believe him and see what he sees. Their partnership is, quite precisely, a madness shared by two.

It’s a monster of the week, not a mytharc, so there’s no distraction of elaborate mytharc plot, just characters and monster. And this is a Vince Gilligan operation, so our focus is definitely on character. From the first scene with Mulder and Scully, we sense that we’re going to be talking about the partnership. Skinner gives them an assignment in Chicago that Mulder doesn’t think is worth it, and he complains in a particularly self-centered way to Scully, which she observes (“You’re saying I a lot.”) The episode is going to be very explicit that while Mulder might be monster boy, they are in this unhinged partnership situation together. Another important moment comes later, when Scully is calling the perp crazy for thinking he saw a monster, and Mulder says, “Well, I saw it, too.” Scully’s careful about-face after that, her delicate avoidance of implying she thinks Mulder is actually crazy, is part of the dance they’re doing at this late season five stage of their partnership. She doesn’t quite believe him, but she doesn’t knee-jerk not believe him either.

And the foreshadowing of what’s to come in this one, whoo boy. Most obviously, we must acknowledge that 1013 knew exactly what they were doing when Mulder tells Scully “you’re my one in five billion.” A mere seven days from now, a mysterious beautiful ex who believes his theories is going to show up to immediately cast doubt on that claim. And this episode is also toying with the question of whether Scully actually does always back Mulder up when it’s important, when she has to accept she saw something illogical. At the end, does she tell Skinner she actually saw a giant bug in Mulder’s hospital room? We don’t know, but I think it’s implied she doesn’t. That’s all presaging what will happen in The Beginning coming off of Fight the Future. It’s Scully’s little way of resisting the madness, but it also hurts Mulder and damages the partnership, which will be a problem in season six.

Season 6: Field Trip (before Biogenesis)

Full disclosure: this is my favorite episode. So I’m going to make some big claims about it. This is the ultimate Penultimate Partner episode—the one that best knits together what it wants to say about their partnership and what it wants to establish for the finale. It's a monster-of-the-week episode (another Vince Gilligan ep, with John Shiban) but refers to the mytharc often. It’s also one of the best episodes about their partnership, period.

This is yet another episode about distorted perception. This time, however, under the influence of a giant mushroom, both partners are unable to perceive clearly, to determine what is real and what is a lie. And when they’re confused, they critically turn to one another to help them see what the truth is.

Coming off of season six, the partnership is rocky. Mulder is frustrated that after so many theories of his have borne out, he still can��t get the benefit of the doubt from Scully, something he explicitly says in the dialogue here. Scully has felt like she’s not been trusted or heard, like Mulder has turned to others (Diana Fowley, for example) rather than his partner.

This is an episode about how they absolutely need one another to be able to make sense of the world—that individually each of their points-of-view are not enough. In Mulder’s hallucination, Scully accepts his claims about alien life forms too completely, not applying enough skepticism, not pushing back against him. In Scully’s hallucination, a world without Mulder, everyone is unacceptably unquestioning of the status quo, refusing to dig deeper, lacking Mulder’s critical acumen and drive. Neither partner likes the feeling of being unopposed, and it makes both of them suspicious about the hallucination’s reality. They may think they want their own view to prevail, but they need one another to be a whole person.

The theme of what’s real and what’s not – and needing one another to discern the truth–is exactly what is picked up and developed further in the Biogenesis-Sixth Extinction-Amor Fati arc that follows this. Scully’s skepticism has to stretch to incorporate more of Mulder’s worldview to make sense of what she sees in the Ivory Coast, and of course, Mulder calls on Scully’s worldview to see through his misleading dream world in Amor Fati. In fact, you could argue Field Trip is really about the idea that Mulder and Scully are one another’s touchstones—the people they need to know what’s right and real.

Incidentally, this episode also plays around with some of season 6’s other subtextual throughlines: Mulder and Scully’s anxieties about possibly entering a non-platonic relationship, their unease about what a normal, domestic life might even be for them. For the entire episode they’re directly compared and juxtaposed with the Schiffs, a young married couple who died on Brown Mountain. The Schiffs are a tall man and a redheaded woman. They even die hallucinating lying together on a hotel bed after she asked him to “hold her” (although I do seriously doubt 1013 was intentionally foreshadowing a full year ahead). The last shot is of Mulder reaching out to take Scully’s hand across the ambulance, suggesting a kind of partnership beyond just, you know, partnership. Which takes us to the next season.

Season 7: Je Souhaite (before Requiem)

Truthfully, I don’t think this episode fits quite as well in the Penultimate Partner category. It doesn’t share some of the same traits as these other episodes—it’s not quite as notably about perception, for instance—and it’s not fundamentally about the partnership in the same way. But it does end up commenting on their partnership (even their relationship, really) as part of its theme, so I think we can include it—especially because its position right before Requiem ends up being important.

Je Souhaite (btw, written and directed by Vince Gilligan) has a bit of an unsettled feeling to it because it was kind of treading water, waiting to see what happened with DD and the series. Nothing too monumental could happen with the partnership or the plot because it wasn’t clear to anyone what would happen next with the show: whether it would end or continue, whether DD would be involved or not.

So we have a story about Mulder and Scully making peace with not having a significant impact on the world—e.g. not bringing about world peace, not introducing invisible bodies to science. Instead, they are content to delightfully share a beer and comment that they have made one another “pretty happy” (as Scully says about Mulder). Through the jinni character, they seem to take the lesson that they can enjoy being with one another, accept the simple happiness that their relationship brings them. Rather than wish for success that comes too easily, they take joy in the little things with one another.

Comparing this episode to the Penultimate Partner episodes that come before, we can really see how Mulder and Scully’s dynamic has evolved by season seven. We have a Scully who is much more open to supernatural phenomena, for example, and whose skepticism seems more like a reflex or a defense mechanism now. Scully’s move towards belief is partially reflected in the plot of the episode: the X-file here really isn’t even science fiction. It is just straight up fantasy or magical realism. Aside from Scully's brief mention of a disease to explain what happened to the mouthless man in the cold open, no plausible scientific explanation for the jinni's long life or wishes is really even floated.

Scully is delighted by the discovery of the invisible body, and Mulder is visibly delighted by her delight. He’s also frustrated by her retreat into doubt when the body disappears, of course. But even the reversal into her old skepticism is half-hearted, as she soon after she's engaging in discussion with Mulder about what his final wish was. This is consistent with the overall blurring of the old hardline believer-skeptic dynamic we see in season 7. It’s also peeking ahead to Scully’s coming role as resident basement believer in season 8.

The last scene, with the beers and Caddyshack, is meant to be a callback to djinni Jenn’s comment that she wishes she could “live my life moment by moment... enjoying it for what it is instead of... instead of worrying about what it isn't.” Mulder, we see, is taking a cue from her. (And good for him, as we almost never see these characters do this. Except on rare baseball-related occasions.)

However, this episode’s position right before Requiem—and right before the events of season 8—ends up giving this scene a real bittersweet bite. We know, after Requiem, that they were probably a romantic couple at this time. We know, after Requiem, that this time is going to be their last happy time together for a long while. Later in season 8, we learn that one lingering wish of Scully’s in season 7 is that she wanted to conceive a child with Mulder. And of course we know, after Requiem, that she gets her wish—but with a vicious catch, with a terrible side effect, much like what happens with the jinni’s wishes.

So that’s my academic thesis on that. I know others have pointed out the existence of this type of episode before. What did I miss? Do you think I am wrong to leave out seasons 1, 2, 8, and 9? Why do we think these episodes focus so much on distorted perception? Interested to hear others’ thoughts (if they make it through this lol).

#the x files #x files meta #penultimate partner episodes #wetwired #x files #demons #season 3 x files #season 4 x files #folie à deux #season 5 X files #field trip #season 6 x files #je souhaite #season 7 x files #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #MSR

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tokiro07 · 3 months ago

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Ichi the Witch ch.2 thoughts

[Woo-hoo! Witchy...Man...]

(Contents: character analysis - Ichi/Uroro/Desscaras, predictions - narrative progression)

Okay, chapter 2, and once again I feel compelled to talk about it! I'll take that as a good sign for my engagement with the series going forward

Not only is ch. 2 even prettier than ch. 1, but it expands on a few things that I felt were missing last week, helping to strengthen the story in my mind

Where last week felt like it was meant specifically to set up the high concept of the series (boy becomes first male witch) and the basic philosophy (killing with purpose is hunting, killing without is murder), this week gives us a bit more depth into the cast themselves and their greater purpose

Ichi the Healer

Naturally, the most noteworthy exploration of the chapter is certainly Ichi himself, at least to me. I said last week that his philosophy of "death for death" seemed like a thin veil separating him from his base desire to kill, and given the gleam in his eye when he heard the word "hunt" in this chapter I stand by that as a possibility, but his actions this week imply a much greater commitment to his claim of respecting life than I initially gave him credit for

He didn't seem too broken up about it when he was shown the damage he had inadvertently done to the land, but the moment he was told there was a way to fix it, he did so without hesitation. Ichi was likely capable of forgiving himself for something he did completely unintentionally because it was on such a grand scale that he didn't think there was any use dwelling on it, but with the capability of making reparations came the responsibility to do so. The cost of being unconscious for a few days is paltry in comparison to bringing back the lives he inadvertently took, and that speaks to his opinion on life far more than the circumstances that allow him to justify killing

I don't know how or if Nishi intends to develop the dichotomy of Ichi's desire to hunt and his desire not to do unnecessary harm specifically, but I'm glad we got to see both extremes so early

Likewise, I think that there's a bit of a dichotomy in Uroro's character as well, though a bit more subtly

Shoulder Devil

As I predicted, Uroro isn't dead, he's more sealed within Ichi, presumably a familiar pactbound to the one who passed his trial. I don't know if other Magiks behave the same way, but I could go either way on it. If they do, that would give us a Shaman+Guardian Ghost or Weapon+Meister style dynamic, but that could also carry the risk of overloading us with new characters when a Witch has acquired multiple Magiks. I imagine they tend not to since there's no indication that Desscaras has a bunch of familiars hanging out with her, but they might also just not be inclined to come out at the moment

In the meantime, Uroro immediately tries to use his familiar status to manipulate Ichi into putting himself in danger, which would theoretically get him killed and allow Uroro to be released. When he gets called out on it, he notes that he has more motivations beyond trying to regain freedom: he also doesn't want to be forced into serving the Witches

While Uroro looks down on humanity, he doesn't seem to be a heartless monster, as he refuses to turn on his own kind. We'll need to see him interact with other Magiks first to get a clear picture of his opinion on them as individuals, but considering that he cites the depth of their history, we can reasonably assume that he holds the species itself as a whole in high regard

This sets up a strong conflict of interest for Uroro going forward, as he will be forced to face off against other Magiks, and there will most likely come a time when he needs or wants to do so. Like how Ichi won't kill until he's given external justification, what will it take for Uroro to justify turning against one of his own? Will it be because a particular Magik angers him? Will one stand between him and his freedom? Will one have clearly sided with humanity or disrespected Magik culture?

Whatever happens, how will Uroro reconcile that? How will he forgive himself? Will he even need to, or is he a hypocrite who's perfectly willing to fight his kind so long as it's not on behalf of humans?

Of course, this projection is assuming that Uroro is meant to be Ichi's partner who will develop alongside him, rather than the series' main antagonistic force deliberately trying to thwart his development at all times. Obviously, he's going to think he's that for the foreseeable future, but the question is whether that will always be the case or if sooner or later he'll turn around. I always thought Sukuna would have that kind of development, but ultimately that wasn't the case, so I won't make that assumption at face value this time

Now, if Uroro is the Sukuna of this series, then Desscaras is likely the Gojo

The Strongest Teacher

Ichi's situation is a little different from Yuji's, in that if Ichi dies, Uroro goes free, while Yuji's death would weaken or ultimately erase Sukuna. However, to keep these ultimate monsters in check, the ultimate sorcerers of these respective worlds decide to take these vessels under their wings

Unlike Gojo, though, Desscaras immediately loses control of the situation, with Ichi doing his own thing and getting her into trouble with her superior and making her regret her decision to look after him. They're both goofy characters, but Desscaras' power doesn't protect her from getting comeuppance for her self-aggrandizing and transparently nasty personality, which to me makes her a more endearing iteration of the same basic trope

While we don't know what her teachings will look like at this exact moment, this chapter does give us at least a little glimpse into what to expect for the series going forward

On the Hunt

I probably should have seen this coming when the narrator called the Witches "hunters," but of course the Magiks need to be literally hunted. It's what Ichi is best at, so it would be odd to make him learn a new skillset to use in an unrelated context

With hunting solidified as the feedback loop, I think we can expect something akin to Toriko, an adventure where the cast needs to determine the locations, personalities, habits, weaknesses etc. of the various Magiks to facilitate passing their trials. However, since we learned of an academy in the first chapter, it's also possible that it'll be more of a mission-based structure like early Soul Eater, using the school as a hub until a Magik has been located

Personally, I would rather the locating be a big part of the hunt, but I can see how that would slow the pacing, so I won't be too broken up if it isn't part of it. Plus, having the rest of the core cast be students rather than professionals makes it a bit easier to incorporate them into the story, so there would certainly be benefits if it ends up happening. Whichever way the chips fall, I'll talk more in-depth about it when we get there

Whether it's a school or a business, though, I highly doubt that Ichi is just going to accept organizational regulations at face value and go along with "tradition." He's the first and only man ever to become a Witch, and he possesses the King of Magic; even before being introduced to the world proper, he's already a shakeup to the established order, so his methods must not only be outside of the norm, but a necessary addition to reform outdated ways

As Uroro says, Magiks are "an indigenous species" being preyed upon by the Witches, who certainly are trying to further their own power. It's all well and good for Desscaras to say it's for a noble goal like protecting people from rampaging monsters, but it's undeniable that Witches grow in strength after acquiring a Magik. There's simply no way that all of them are trying to make the world better, and based on her personality, I highly doubt that Desscaras is either (though she may surprise me). Even if they are, they definitely don't hold the life or well-being of the Magiks in any regard

This is where I think "death for death" comes in; Ichi will absolutely respect the Magiks. Whatever locations they hide in, however they interact with nature, Ichi will undoubtedly take the time to respect and understand them, even if that understanding leads to him deciding that there's no value in hunting them. The prejudices of the Witches likely equate to "Magik = target," but Uroro suggests that they have their own society and culture, so a fresh perspective like Ichi's will likely be necessary for finding mutual peace between the two races

Or at least, that's what I hope. It could easily turn out that the Magiks are wholly malefic and only introduced spells to the Witches to sew discord among humanity, and they're ultimately no different from the Curses of JJK or the majority of UMAs in Undead Unluck. I would much rather this series, with its themes already reminiscent of the circle of life ideology, find a way to work in an angle of coexistence, but I won't proclaim that the series is bad if it goes a more common direction

Conclusion

I...did not expect this post to go this long, honestly. I figured each segment would be one paragraph and I'd move on, but apparently I'm incapable of being concise. Oops!

But again, the fact that we're two-for-two on this series' chapters making me write reviews on par with those I write for Undead Unluck each week is a great sign for how much I currently like and can expect to like this series in the future. It could end up losing me sooner or later, especially if it gets overly complex in its power system and geopolitical worldbuilding, but for now looking forward to how both of those subjects develop

#ichi the witch #madan no ichi #4y1a reviews #i normally would do UU first but i had some thoughts i wanted to get out of my head before i forgot them #fouryearsandananime

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lazybutsmexy · 8 months ago

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Infused

Alejandro Vargas x f!reader (Avispa)

Masterlist Prologue

Chapter 1: Mate with tea: Disgust

Warnings: alcohol consumption

“Coronel, Ricardo is here.”

Alejandro looked up from his files to see Rodriguez standing by the door to his office. Both men looked equally puzzled at each other, since it was uncommon for his informant to come directly into the base. It couldn’t mean anything good.

“Send him in,” he ordered, and Rodriguez nodded and walked out. Alejandro rubbed his temple with his index finger, his concern growing the more he tried to think. When Ricardo walked in, Alejandro looked at him with a frown. “Was your cover blown?”

“Uh, no, at least I don’t think so, Coronel,” Ricardo was quick to answer, his expression just as confused as his superior, “but someone found me, and has a message for you. She knows I work for you, and wants to collaborate… I think.”

That made Alejandro’s eyebrows shoot up, “we don’t take any outside informants, it’s too risky for them.”

“I told her that, but she said you need her more than you think,” Ricardo sat down with a low grunt, resting his head on his hand. The man was visibly tired, a shell of the man he used to be just a year ago. Also, his wedding ring was missing. Undercover work wasn’t easy for anyone or their families, and Alejandro respected his sacrifice like few would.

Alejandro frowned a little, thinking about this strange woman’s proposition. Another informant wouldn’t really hurt them, but the risk was too great, and even more for women. Las Almas cartel was known for their violence, and they took no consessions - no matter their age or gender, a person was just a body to use until it broke.

Still, Alejandro was partially curious about whoever was this woman who was willing to put her life on the line for the cause. she could be the family member of a member of the cartel, desperate to get them out. Perhaps, with the right incentive, he may be able to talk her out of it.

“...Alright,” he finally said after thinking in silence for a few minutes, “set up a meeting at the Marcela bar, I’ll listen to her at least.”

“Bien, Coronel,” Ricardo stood up, sighing softly. Before he walked out, he stopped, and slowly turned around to face his superior again. “One more thing,” he added, his voice showing enough hesitancy to catch Alejandro’s attention, “I may be seeing things, but this is no ordinary woman… I think she’s military.”

Bar Marcela was a cozy little hole-in-the wall, but its cute appeal was deceiving. Owned and served by Marcela Romero Marín, the bar was akin to a pirate ship, ran by a captain as vicious as the big names in the business. Marcela was one of the few who hadn’t given in to the cartel’s threats, and stayed loyal to the people of Las Almas. She had more than once fostered orphans victims of the war on drugs, and put more than a dozen lost teenagers back on track before they even joined the cartel out of desperation.

Bar Marcela was a safe place - or as safe as could be - for Alejandro’s meeting with the mystery woman who wished to be an informant. He had given Marcela a heads-up about the meeting, and by the time he arrived, her dark eyes met him immediately. The moment he approached the bar, she leaned in, her voice sweet and welcoming.

“Coronel, it’s always a pleasure to see you by,” Marcela smiled and offered him her hand, her gold tooth glinting in the neon lights. The wrinkles in her cheek were the only clue to her real age, which she adamantly denied to reveal.

“Marcela,” Alejandro greeted her, taking her offered hand and kissing the back of it. A proper señora of Las Almas shouldn’t be greeted in any lesser form. “Get me a beer and some nachos, please.”

“Sure thing, amor,” she winked, turning around and flagging one of her employees to get the food ready. She opened a beer, handing it to him with two glasses. When Alejandro looked at the second glass, she nodded in the direction of a table tucked in at the corner, where a lone woman with curly hair sat. “Your mystery woman is over there, may appreciate a cold beer.”

Alejandro thanks her with a smile, taking the beer and glasses and walking across the bar to the table. The moment he laid eyes on her, he was studying her. She was sitting with her back to the corner, giving her ample view of her surroundings. their eyes met, and he could see the recognition.

He sat down, pouring both glasses, letting her choose one. When she did, he took the other one and took a long swig. “I’m Coronel Alejandro Vargas. I’ve been told you want to work as an informant for the Special Forces,” he began, looking into her eyes as he spoke, “are you sure you know what it entails?” His voice was soft, but carried a no-nonsense tone. He wanted to make sure such an offering entailed a serious conversation.

“I’m sure,” she spoke, matching his tone and taking a slow sip of the cold beer. “I have ways of getting whatever information you want, and particular reasons to help you.”

Alejandro’s brow tensed, and he let out a soft sigh, shaking his head. “Look, preciosa, being an informant, especially as a woman, carries a special kind of danger, entiendes?”

Avispa would swoon at Alejandro’s concern over her well-being, but she was a big girl.

Alejandro continued with his speech, his tone growing in desperate concern as he realized the woman in front of him wasn’t backing down, her expression as decided as the beginning. “What is that particular reason you want to be an informant for us, anyway?” He sighed, pouring himself another glass.

Avispa smirked a little, and decided to show him her cards. “Because I want to kill el Sin Nombre, Coronel.” She took a slow sip of her beer, watching his reaction.

Alejandro stopped mid-sip, staring at her. The wheels started turning in his head, his eyes darkening at her words. He leaned in, his voice lost its concerned hue and turned low and warning. “El Sin Nombre is to be brought to justice, not assassinated.”

“What justice, Coronel?” Avispa leaned in as well, her eyes glinting in the shadow of her fringe. “You know better than me how corrupt the justice system is in Las Almas, and I don’t need to tell you how someone like el Sin Nombre doesn’t deserve to exist.”

“Even if that’s true, I won’t let you play vigilante in Las Almas,” he said, “I won’t let a stranger like you taint the Special Forces and all the good work we’ve done.”

Avispa began to understand how important it was to Alejandro and those under his command to be the ones ending the cartel’s operations. He was a local, he had witnessed first-hand how his hometown fell to drugs and violence. His determination to clean the bad weed from the root awoke respect for him.

“I don’t pretend to become a local hero, Vargas,” Avispa sighed, taking a sip of her beer, “from the beginning, I was planning on using my tactical skills to help you, and making it look like it was done by the Special Forces,” she explained, shrugging a little, “I only need a photograph of Sin Nombre dead, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

That comment caught Alejandro’s attention, and he practically growled, his fingers gripping the glass so hard it was a miracle it didn’t break. He remembered Ricardo’s words - “I think she’s military” - and put it together with her desire to kill el Sin Nombre. “You’re a contractor,” he stated, “you were hired to kill him.”

“I can offer you assistance in ways you can’t get it legally,” Avispa retorted, narrowing her eyes, “I know you need that, we both know you need that. There’s only so many things Los Vaqueros can do to get under el Sin Nombre’s skin.”

Alejandro said nothing, just put some bills on the table and stood up. “I’m done with this conversation,” his statement was final, but he pointed a finger at her to drive it home. “Don’t get in my way. I won’t hesitate to get rid of you, or anyone who interferes with my job.”

Avispa watched him with a serious expression, and as he turned away from him, she called out. “Time is running out, Coronel, and I can help.”

The door of the bar shut loudly behind him, and Avispa stayed to finish her beer. It was a good enough beer.

Taglist

@warenai @queen-of-hearts-lemon-tarts @embers-of-alluring @wolfyland07

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x f!reader #alejandro vargas cod #colonel alejandro vargas #f!reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare ii #reader insert #cod oc

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guess-that-ship · 10 months ago

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S10 Round 1

A Coin Needs Two Sides

cw: spoilers, near-death experience

Yin is a plucky young hero-type who wants to stop evil and keep people safe. During one mission, he comes across a strange artifact that creates Yang, a cursed reflection of him. While Yin is a bit clueless but ultimately good natured, Yang is spiteful and cold to everyone around him. When Yin's enemies try to recruit him, however, Yang denies them. Stating that he only serves himself.

Yin and Yang run into each other many times, continuing to clash with each other. But as those encounters go on, Yang can't help but begin to find some begrudging respect for Yin. This culminates in the two teaming up to face down an escaped eldritch abomination. Though they are able to beat it, it attempts to drag Yang down with it. Yin risks his life in a sudden effort to save Yang, and while Yang is saved, it puts Yin in a near death state. Thus, Yang braves enemy territory to secure a method to save Yin, even costing him some of his own independence to return the favor Yin had paid to him.

Magical and Mechanical

[This description has been modified to remove potentially identifying information.]

V is a wizard looking for a new lease on life. B is a science experiment who was cloned over and over and over again to be an army pawns, though his lack of fighting ability lead to all of them being failures. Despite coming from completely different circumstances, they are drawn together and become almost inseparable.

Specifically, after the organization that experimented on B is destroyed, he's left to pick up the pieces of his life. He decides to open a cafe in town, and joins a sports team centered around bonds and love in an attempt to better himself. There, he meets V, and is subsequently partnered with them for the upcoming game. However, after a spell gone wrong, V loses most of their memories, and ends up relying on B for support. The two become quite close during that time, as V learns more about what happened to B and helps to teach him better coping mechanisms and self love. During this time, they also begin to form a crush on B, but hesitate to do anything about it.

Eventually game day arrives, and the two work together shockingly well. Despite his own lack of skill, B finds success alongside V, and gets further than he ever has before. At the same time, V and B's feelings for one another become increasingly obvious, and are called out by the other competitors (as well as being shipped online in universe. There is in universe fanfiction of these two). Once they're eliminated from the game, the two take a private moment together (paid for by one of the previously mentioned competitors) and finally confess, agreeing to try dating. Ever since, they have been attached at the hip, with V working in B's cafe, and B bragging about V every chance he gets. Love wins <3

#s10 #tournament poll #s10 round 1 #spoilers

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gigabyte-flare · 4 months ago

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Follow the Stars | Part 2

Part 1

Summary: Teaming up with Victoria Housekeeping to rescue her best friend, Pixel finds that her infatuation with Lycaon grows by the day. Can she keep her wits about her long enough to save Rain?

Word Count: 5.7k

Pairing: Von Lycaon x Original Character

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Strong language, graphic depictions of violence, depictions of PTSD, domestic violence and emotional abuse (not perpetrated by Lycaon), masterbation, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), size kink, knotting, creampie

More warnings may be added in future entries

Sometimes in life, you see something so beautiful that time slows down, even stops. That's what was happening now as Lycaon continues his decent down the stairs, each reverberating step from his mechanical legs causing my heart to pound in my ears until he stops in front of me, a subtle smile appearing.

"My name is Von Lycaon, but please, call me Lycaon. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Proxy."

Thank goodness that Pixel isn't capable of blushing, because I can only imagine my actual face is as red as a beet right now. Now that he's standing directly in front of me, I can't help but marvel at his elegance. His right arm tucked behind him while his other hand adjusts his collar. Despite the mask, I can't deny how incredibly handsome he is, that crimson eye feeling like it's piercing into my soul. And his voice--

I get a sudden jab in where my rib cage should be if Pixel were human, and it makes me realize I had just been standing there staring at him like a complete dumbass. I look to my left, seeing Anby standing beside me, gesturing towards Lycaon with her eyes.

"J-Just call me Pixel." I say quickly, desperately attempting to recompose myself.

"Of course, Master Pixel. Allow me to introduce the other members of Victoria Housekeeping," he points to Corin before continuing, "this is Corin."

Corin gives me a friendly wave while Rina's two floating Bangboo help put the saw blade back on her weapon.

"Over here is our head maid, Rina."

Rina curtsies before smiling warmly, "so nice to meet you Master Pixel, we've heard much about your exploits."

"And finally," Lycaon continues, gesturing towards the shark Thiren who is currently pulling her giant scissors out of the floor, "this is Ellen."

Ellen pulls her weapon free, a lollipop sticking out from her lips as she looks to me, giving me a nod, "'sup?"

"It's nice to meet you all," I reply, looking back to Lycaon, feeling my heart flutter upon making eye contact, "I apologize if this comes off blunt, but I honestly haven't heard of Victoria Housekeeping."

"That's not surprising," Rina replies, floating over to Lycaon's side, "we tend to serve more… elite clientele, for lack of a better term."

"We were sent here by our current employer to perform maintenace on the Ballet Twins and to ensure no intruders break into the building," Lycaon adds.

"But I thought the Ballet brothers went backrupt and the buildings went through foreclosure!" Nekomata chimes in as she moves to stand next to me.

"And you'd be absolutely correct," Lycaon explains, resting his chin on his knuckles of his left hand, "our employer has purchased the building in hopes of making use out of it."

"Leave it to rich people throw money away in useless places…" Nekomata groans.

No kidding…

"So, what brings you into the Ballet Twins?" Rina asks.

I hesitate to answer, not wanting to give away the fact that Rain is a hacker, "we're looking for my friend. We believe she's here--"

I'm suddenly startled when I hear a subtle chime in my ear, followed by a video feed popping up on my glasses showing a young girl with dark blue hair. I recognize her immediately: Belle, the co-owner of Random Play.

Phaethon.

"Pixel is that you?! It's Phaethon!"

"How on Earth did you get a hold of me? This is a private channel!" I ask, my eyebrows furrowed.

Another, more robotic, female voice speaks, "you really think your pathetic encryption is any match for the world's most powerful A.I.?"

"Fairy, come on, not now!" Belle groans, rolling her eyes.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that…" I say, clearing my throat, "so what's up, Phaethon?"

"Are Anby and the others with you? I need to talk to them, it's urgent!"

"Yeah, hold on, let me project you."

With a few keystrokes on the H.D.D., Belle's video feed gets projected out from my glasses along with her voice. Little does she know she is seeing the Cunning Hares through my eyes.

"Hey guys!" Belle begins, "Nicole just called me. Apparently the court needs all the members of the Cunning Hares present at the trial."

"Oh come on! Are you serious?!" Billy whines, crossing his arms.

"Unfortunately, yes. Because you were all there, they need your testimony."

A lump forms in my throat. I could very well continue through the Ballet Twins on my own, but it would be extremely difficult, especially if I happen upon an extremely powerful Ethereal.

"What about Pixel? We can't just leave her, she needs our help!" Nekomata exclaims, the concern evident in her voice.

"I believe Victoria Housekeeping may be of assistance," Lycaon chimes in, "our outdated Carrot data is hindering our work and you are looking for your friend. Cooperating would be mutually beneficial."

My mouth goes dry instantly and I feel my heart race. He's not wrong and I am going to accept his help… but oh boy, do I need to get these nerves under control. Why is he effecting me like this?

"Sure, that'll work. Thank you, Lycaon, for your generosity," I say as I look over at him, which of course, only makes the butterflies in my stomach even worse.

"You are most welcome," Lycaon replies with a slight bow, "you are our honored guest, after all and your wish is our command."

My breath hitches and it takes everything in me not to scream. It feels like my blood is on fire. What is wrong with me?

"Are we meeting up with Nicole to board the airship?" Anby asks, her voice soft.

"Yes, first thing in the morning," Belle replies.

A subtle alert then goes off, warning me that my hydraulic fluid levels are decreasing. I look down at my damaged arm, lifting it up to inspect the damage.

"Sorry about your arm," Ellen suddenly says, her tone non-chalant as she shifts the lollipop in her mouth.

"It's alright, you were just doing your job," I reply, "however, I can't go further into the Hollow until I get this repaired."

"Would you like assistance in repairing it? I am quite experienced in the matter," Lycaon offers, taking a step closer to me to inspect my arm.

My anxiety immediately spikes, "No!" I shout as I take a step back away from him, holding my damaged arm to my chest. Realizing how harsh that had come across, I shake my head and continue, "I mean… no thank you. I can handle it. I've had to repair it before."

"I see," Lycaon replies, his crimson gaze locked on me, "in that case, see to your arm and contact us when you are ready to continue into the Hollow."

I give him a nod in acknowledgement, afterwards finding the closest exit to the Hollow and leading everyone out. Once out of the Hollow, I couldn't get home fast enough. I fly up my apartment stairs, unlock and whip open the door, shut it behind me and get Pixel hooked back up to the H.D.D. to charge before I disconnect myself. I practically rip the headset and nodes off, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart before I rush into the bathroom. I crank the cold water as high as it will go in the sink, dipping my hands into it and bringing the cold water to my face, splashing myself with it.

I do this a few more times before finally leaning against the sink and looking at myself in the mirror. As I had suspected, my face is completely red. I take a few deep breaths before leaving the bathroom and going back out into the living room. I walk up to Pixel, lifting her damaged arm and letting out a loud sigh. It's fixable, but the damage is severe, the worst that's been inflicted in a while. Better my arm than Nekomata getting impaled.

"This will be a tomorrow me problem…" I say before letting out a loud yawn.

I glance over at my wall clock; it's well past midnight. Trying to repair her arm now is not going to do me any favors. I shuffle my way into my bedroom, practically collapsing into my bed where I quickly fall asleep.

"Hey, don't tell me you're fucking sleeping!"

My eyes snap open and I find myself laying on my couch with the last person I ever expected to see standing over me, looking down at me in disgust: Jace.

"What are you doing in my apartment, Jace? I told you to stay away from me. How did you even get in here?"

He's wearing his trademark hoodie, his dark brown hair cut short and parted in the middle. His brown eyes look almost black in the darkness of the living room.

"A Thiren? So that's what you're going to rebound to, really?" Jace mockingly asks, a sinister smirk spreading across your lips.

Knowing he's referring to Lycaon, I sit up on the couch, shifting myself away from him, "I'm not rebounding to anyone. We haven't been together for five years, Jace. You. Don't. Own. Me."

"Oh see… that's where you're wrong 'Armada,'" Jace sneers, "I'm the only one that wanted your pathetic ass. Do you seriously think that Thiren would even look in your direction? Have you seen how fat you are? No wonder you hide behind that android of yours."

I can feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I am not shedding any more tears in front of this monster.

"Go fuck yourself, Jace," I growl at him, glaring at him.

Jace throws his head back as he starts to laugh--

BZZZZZTTTT!

I'm startled awake by the sound of my phone vibrating next to my head. I groan, rolling over onto my back and rubbing my eyes. My phone vibrates a couple of more times before I reach for it, holding it above me to check it. My eyes widen upon seeing the notification.

Lycaon: Good Morning…

I unlock my phone to read the rest of the message, my stomach in knots. I open Knock Knock to be surprised to find several messages from Lycaon.

Lycaon: Good Morning, Master Pixel, this is Lycaon from Victoria Housekeeping. I apologize if I woke you.

Lycaon: Please let me know once the repairs on your arm are complete. We can meet by the plaza on Ballet Twins Road.

Lycaon: Also, my offer still stands. Should you require any assistance with the repairs, please don't hesitate to ask. I would be more than happy to help. We look forward to working with you.

I take a deep breath, composing myself before I type out a reply.

Pixel: Thank you, Lycaon. I look forward to working with you as well.

I gently toss my phone back onto the bed before practically rolling out of it. Practically dragging my feet to the bathroom, I wince when I turn the light on. Looking at myself in the mirror, my hair is disheveled and the bags under my eyes are dark. I start by brushing my teeth and brushing the rat's nest out of my short hair. Afterwards, I return to my bedroom, getting myself dressed in a simple graphic t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Grabbing my phone up from the bed, I walk into the living room, turning on the TV before walking over to Pixel. I set my phone down onto my computer desk, opening up a deep drawer in the desk where I keep my tools and a bottle of hydraulic fluid to replace what had been lost. I try to keep a bottle on hand, just in case.

A good portion of the day is spent repairing the arm, stopping occassionally to eat and use the bathroom. In the midst of this, my mind constantly goes back to Lycaon despite my best efforts to not think about him. What is it about him that has me so enraptured? When was the last time I even felt like this about someone? I stop what I'm doing and lean back in my computer chair, placing my hands on my face and rubbing it, groaning while doing so.

Unsurprisingly, my thoughts also drift back to the dream I had last night. Jace was my ex-boyfriend; I escaped his clutches about 5 years ago. I was a Proxy and he was an information broker. Right… my Proxy name was Armada back then; I'm surprised I had forgotten. Jace was controlling, manipulative and cruel and he also had me wrapped around his finger.

As terrified as I was, I fled our shared apartment on Canvas Street and never looked back. I went into hiding. I didn't take Proxy work for a couple of years out of fear of being found by Jace. When I finally had the courage to take another job, a job in Hollow Zero, I stumbled upon Pixel. Anyone else would have looked at that broken android and just left it there to rot. But not me.

Pixel was my ticket to a new life.

It was Rain that helped me get back on my feet, helped me repair Pixel and set her up so that I could control her with my H.D.D. like a Bangboo. With Pixel, I can fight along side the Agents I work with instead of them having to worry about me; it's what made me so sought after right up there with Phaethon. Soon, I was able to afford my own apartment, which leads me to now.

I remove my hands from my face, sit back up and continue working on the arm. Rain is trapped in that Hollow still and I need to get back in there and find her. It's the least I can do for everything she's done for me.

Waking up to me sliding out of my computer chair and onto my floor covered in hydraulic fluid is not my ideal way of waking up. I groan and curse as I struggle to stand back up, slipping on the fluid several times in my 'just woken up' daze. I must have passed out while working on Pixel's arm, that's not like me at all. I look over at my clock; it's just past 7:00 in the morning. As I finally stand up, I look around at the mess on the floor, hearing Jace's scolding in the back of my mind.

"God, what the hell are you good for anyway? I'm out there trying to find commissions for us and you just sulk around here and make a mess of the apartment. You're fucking useless!"

I quickly dismiss the memory with a shake of my head and make my way to the bathroom. I strip my ruined clothes, throwing them in the hamper before jumping into the shower. After getting myself cleaned up, I got into my bedroom and put on clean clothes. Then, I head out in to the small kitchen, grabbing paper towels and multi-purpose cleaner and try to clean the hydraulic fluid off the floor as best as I could. It's not perfect, but at least I won't slip in it. I had fixed where it was leaking last night so it shouldn't get worse.

I get back to fixing the arm, however I realize there's a piece of metal on the blade's support itself that is damaged beyond any repair I make to it. Cursing silently to myself, I take the piece off and inspect it.

You could ask for Lycaon's help, you know.

I grab my phone off my desk, opening up Knock Knock and stare at the chat history between Lycaon and I. After a few moments of my thumb hovering over the keyboard on my phone, I set my phone back down onto the desk, letting out a loud sigh.

No… I don't need him. I don't need his help. I'll bring this part to Enzo's shop, then I'll swing over to the newsstand to get a scratch card, then I'll go treat myself to a coffee. Yeah, that'll work!

Standing up from my computer chair, I grab a hoodie that is slung over the back of the couch, pulling it on over my head before grabbing my keys off the coffee table, slipping my sneakers on at the door just before I head out. The heart of Sixth Street is a short walk from my apartment. As I walk up to Enzo's shop, I lean over to look at Random Play, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

Maybe I'll swing by and rent a movie. That'll give me an excuse to check up on Phaethon.

I open the heavy door to Enzo's shop and step inside, the door slamming shut behind me. Enzo looks up at me from his work bench, a big smile appearing from under his busy beard, he gives me a friendly wave with his mechanical arm.

"Pixel! What'dya break this time?" he asks with a chuckle.

There are only two people that know I'm Pixel: Rain and Enzo and I trust both of them with my life. I give him a gentle smile in return, walking up to him with the broken part in my hands.

"One of the support pieces for the right mantis blade." I reply as I set the part down on his work bench.

Enzo lets out a long whistle, "damn girl, how did you manage to do that?"

"By deflecting a giant pair of scissors that were going to impale one of my agents I was working with," I reply nonchalantly.

"A giant pair of scissors?" Enzo says as he looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"I… had a run-in with a group called Victoria Housekeeping. Heard of them?"

"Yeah… I've heard of 'em," Enzo replies, picking up the part and inspecting it, "they're a pretty prestigious bunch; serving the crème de la crème of New Eridu. Their leader has literal rocket legs; he's not one to fuck around with Pixel…"

There's a hint of concern in his voice that I immediately pick up on, "oh no, no! We're fine now! It was just a misunderstanding. We just so happened to be in the building that they were contracted to protect, that's all. Once I get Pixel's arm fixed, they're actually going to be helping me."

"Oh… oh ok, good!" Enzo replies, the relief evident as he continues to inspect the part.

"So… can you fix it…?" I ask nervously.

"Yeah I can fix it. I'm going to need to hammer and weld the shit out of it. It'll take me about an hour or so. That ok?"

"Absolutely, of course!" I reply, relieved. Thinking about his comment about Lycaon's 'rocket legs,' I become curious if he knows Lycaon, "their leader… do you know anything about him?"

"Von Lycaon?" Enzo says as he picks up his hammer and other tools to begin working on the broken part, "not really. I didn't make those legs of his. Don't know who did. I've heard stories of what they can do to people though."

Once again, a lump forms in my throat and I swallow hard, "oh… really…? He must be pretty strong then…"

"There's a reason he's feared by the outlaws in the Hollows. Promise me you won't get on his bad side, ok Pixel?"

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on it," I say as I take a step back from Enzo's work bench.

I just keep turning into a train wreck around him, no big deal…

"I'll swing by later to pick that up and pay you, ok?" I continue as I make my way to the door.

"You got it. Take it easy, Pixel!"

"See you later, Enzo!"

I open the heavy door, stepping back outside to head over to the newsstand. I get about a couple of steps in when I stop myself dead in my tracks. Standing at the newsstand with his back to me is an incredibly tall Thiren with a long, bushy tail, white fur and is handsomely dressed. His right arm is tucked behind his back.

What the hell is Lycaon doing on Sixth Street?!

I've lived just off Sixth Street for a number of years now and not once have I ever seen him here; I would definitely remember. My heart is practically pounding out of my chest and I start breathing heavy. I hesitantly get closer to the newsstand, enough to hear the conversation he's having with Howl, the dog that runs the newsstand.

"No… not the Ridu Tour, I said the City News…" Lycaon groans, one of his mechanical legs tapping on the ground, his tail twitching back and forth slightly, "no I don't want to shake your paw, either…"

Is he… is he actually having trouble talking to Howl?

The implication of a wolf Thiren unable to talk to a dog causes me to smile a bit and I have to fight myself not to laugh out loud. Gathering up every ounce of courage I can muster, I walk up to the newsstand next to Lycaon, smiling warmly when Howl shifts his attention to me.

"Morning Howl!" I say, making sure to elevate the tone of my voice a couple of octaves, "two copies of the City News, please!"

As Howl retrieves the City News for me, I take a moment to really look at Lycaon out of my peripheral vision. I could tell he was tall from Pixel's eyes, but seeing him in person gives me a much better idea. He's well over 180cm; I'd say even 190cm. He also smells unbelievably good; he clearly takes very good care of himself. Howl passes me two copies of the City News and I give him the Dennies for them. Turning to Lycaon, I hold out one of the copies to him.

"Here you go, mister!" I say, looking up at him.

Oh… oh… looking up at him was a really bad idea. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks immediately as his exposed crimson eye practically stares into my soul. His presence was overwhelming through Pixel; in person it's on a whole over level. He carefully takes the City News from me, giving me a subtle smile as his fingers and claws gently graze my hand.

Oh my god… he just had to smile at me didn't he? He's so handsome… what I'd give to be able to f--

"Thank you, miss. Allow me to pay you back--"

"No it's fine, don't worry about it! Have a nice day!" I spit out at record speed.

I spin on my heel and b-line it to Random Play, my heart pounding in my ears. I push the door open, quickly shutting it behind me and leaning against it, holding my hand to my chest as I try to calm my racing heart… and my racing extremely inappropriate thoughts. Belle, who had been leaning over the front counter looking at her phone, looks up at me and smiles.

"Welcome in! We haven't seen you in a while!" she exclaims as she comes out from behind the counter; seeing how flustered I am, her face grows concerned, "is something the matter?"

"Sorry I…" I take a couple of deep breaths before continuing, "I'm fine, really."

I stand up straight, finally calming myself down as I smile at Belle.

"I saw PubSec was over here the other night," I say, changing the subject, "everything ok?"

"Oh yeah, everything is fine! We busted someone trying to steal some of the tapes, that's all!" Belle says, gesturing her hands like it wasn't a big deal.

"Is your brother around?" I ask after taking a quick glance around the shop.

"No, he's running errands in Lumina Square, he should be back later this afternoon, hopefully!"

So he's still in PubSec custody… shit…

"Tell him I said hi when he gets back, will you?" I say as I walk around her to look at the tapes.

"Of course!"

After picking out a tape to rent, I walk up to the door leading outside, looking out of the window to see if Lycaon is still out there. To my relief, he's nowhere to be found. I step out, waving goodbye to Belle before heading right. I walk past Waterfall Soup, saying good morning to General Chop before walking up to Coff Cafe and heading inside. After getting my order of coffee, I go back outside, sitting down at one of the tables, reading the City News as I take sips out of my coffee. Most of it is about the impending trial with the Vision Corporation, but as I'm reading it, my mind starts to wander.

The memory of him smiling down at me when I handed him the City News will forever be burned into my mind, my heart fluttering just picturing it. When was the last time anyone made me feel like this? Not even Jace made me feel like this in the beginning of our relationship. What is it about Von Lycaon that is putting me in such a tizzy? My mind is in such a daze, I completely miss my mouth when I sip my coffee, spilling it down the front of my hoodie and onto the City News.

"Aw shit…" I curse to myself as I stand up from the table.

I throw away the ruined newspaper before pulling my coffee soaked hoodie off. Thankfully at this time, Enzo messages me on Knock Knock, letting me know that the part is all set and ready to pick up. I waste no time in picking up the part and making my way back to my apartment.

The sooner I can get Pixel's arm fixed, the sooner I can rescue Rain, finish this job, put Von Lycaon behind me and get my life back to some semblance of normal.

Once I get back to my apartment, I'm able to get the arm repaired late that evening. I reach out to Lycaon on Knock Knock and we agree to meet up on Ballet Twins Road the following evening. I take the opportunity to rest up the entirety of the following day, knowing that it was most likely going to be an all nighter looking for Rain. I get up just as the sun's setting, get the H.D.D. booted up and get geared up to control Pixel.

I run a few tests with my arm to make sure it's functioning as it should before heading out. I head down to my car in the parking lot and get in. Driving while controlling Pixel is possible, but I don't like doing it unless I absolutely have to and, unfortunately, there are no metro stops that go to Ballet Twins road. I pull up to the plaza that over looks the Ballet Twins Hollow, parking my car. I spot Lycaon immediately, which causes my stomach to twist into knots.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Pixel," I scold myself as I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, "get yourself together. He's just a guy."

I look back over at him for a moment, my eyes drawn to his mechanical legs, making a note of Enzo's warning of 'the things he's heard of those legs doing to people.' After taking a deep breath, I climb out of the car and walk over to him. Upon seeing me, Lycaon bows slightly.

"Good evening, Master Pixel. I trust the repairs on your arm were successful?" he asks as he stands back up straight.

"Yup," I say, smiling at him as I lift my arm up, deploying the mantis blade like nothing had happened to it, "good as new!"

"Excellent, then let us meet with the others. They're waiting in the plaza below."

Shifting my arm back to normal, I follow Lycaon down a set of stairs leading to the Ballet Twins plaza that overlooks the Hollow. Once we join the rest of Victoria Housekeeping, Lycaon motions with one hand for everyone to gather around. He pulls out a piece of paper that was folded in his breast pocket, unfolding it to reveal a drawing of the Ballet Twins.

"If Master Pixel is correct, her friend is on the roof of tower B," he begins to explain as one clawed finger points at the drawing, "we will need to make our way up tower A until we reach the atrium that leads to a catwalk that links the two buildings together. Then, of course, we make our way to the roof of tower B."

I find myself zoning out listening to him, his voice lulling me into a blissful daze as he continues to explain the general layout of the Ballet Twins. I can almost imagine the smell of his cologne from when I had bumped into him at the newsstand.

"Master Pixel?" Lycaon suddenly says, his voice touched with concern as I'm snapped out of my daze, "are you alright?"

I shake my head as I look up up at him, "Yeah, sorry… I'm fine! I'm just worried about my friend… that's all…"

"Of course, then let's not waste anymore time. Lead the way, Master Pixel." Lycaon replies gesturing one of his arms towards the Hollow.

Despite not being in the Hollow physically, they always make me uneasy. However, the Ballet Twins Hollow is making me extremely on edge. I didn't believe in ghosts, but the rumors of the Ballet Twins being haunted linger in the back of my mind. If my memory serves me, it's supposedly haunted by the spirits of two dancers. If we're in here long enough, we may see if those rumors are true.

Our ascent up tower A is mostly uneventful with Victoria Housekeeping having cleared most of the Ethereals on the lower floors the other day, but as we get higher up, more and more pockets of them appear and I witness first hand what makes them so sought after by the elite of New Eridu. They fight together like a well oiled machine; Ellen's swift and graceful movements coupled with her deadly scissors make short work of large groups of enemies. Corin, while not as coordinated, is a force to be reckoned with with her large battle saw, cutting into the Ethereals with ease. Meanwhile, Rina with her two Bangboos floats around the battlefield elegantly, shocking her enemies so that Ellen and Corin can go in for the kill.

However, my attention is constantly going to Lycaon. Fighting with the grace of a professional dancer, those 'rocket legs' of his are no joke. I watch in awe as they are engineered to freeze. Once in a while he throws a punch or two, but most of his fighting is done with those powerful legs. From sweeping roundhouse kicks to somersaults, he is truly captivating to watch. At one point he kicks one leg straight into the air, sending an unlucky Ethereal flying.

Can you imagine how he is in bed?

I wince, immediately banishing the thought. I need to get these thoughts under control. Not only do I have a job to do, I need to rescue Rain. A sudden shriek from Corin grabs my attention. She's completely surrounded by Ethereals, so I deploy both my mantis blades, running up and practically launching myself at the Ethereal behind her, lunging one of my mantis blades straight into its core.

After the two of us fight off the horde of Ethereals that had ganged up on her, the lights above start to flicker, causing both of us to stop and look up.

"What's going on?!" Corin asks, clutching her battle saw close as she looks anxiously up at the lights.

Lycaon approaches calmly, one arm tucked behind his back as he observes the flickering lights, "it appears that the building's power is failing. We'll need to be quick, if my memory serves me there is a partition in front of the catwalk that will close if the power goes out. We need to hurry."

We quicken our pace as we continue our ascent, fighting off increasing numbers of Ethereals along the way, all the while I still admire Lycaon's prowess out of the corner of my eye. We eventually stop to collect ourselves for a moment and I take the opportunity to pull up an old blueprint of the Ballet Twins using my H.D.D. and project it out from my glasses for Lycaon and I too look over.

"If I'm reading this right… the catwalk bridging the two buildings is close," I say, dragging my fingers across the projected blueprint, examining it.

As if on queue, the lights start flickering again, but this time faster and more pronounced. I swallow hard.

"The lights are flickering faster, we have to go, now!" Lycaon says as he takes off down the hallway; the other members of Victoria Housekeeping following close behind him.

"H-Hey! Wait up!" I shout as I dismiss the blueprint and run after them, quickly catching up.

"Leave the fighting to us, Master Proxy!" Rina calls back as she floats along.

As we run, the members of Victoria Housekeeping fight off approaching Ethereals with ease, however the power was flickering more and more as we progressed. I pull the blueprint back up as we continue to run.

"The atrium to the catwalk is just ahead!" I shout as we round a corner, the catwalk now in our sights.

I watch as Lycaon's legs start to charge up and he lunges forward towards the atrium, however several Ethereals jump him. He gracefully fights them off, however in the moments he was fighting them, the power in the building finally gave out, plunging the whole building in darkness. I watch in horror as the partition begins to close. I hear a snarl come out of Lycaon as he doubles his efforts. Unfortunately, just as he gets to the atrium, the partition completely closes.

He stops himself, a quiet growl coming from him as he grimaces, but he quickly collects himself, "we're a step too late, I'm afraid. The partition has completely closed."

Great. Now what?

#von lycaon #lycaon #lycaon smut #zzzero #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero smut #gigabyte writes #von lycaon x oc #von lycaon x original character #von lycaon fanfiction

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skywrotecreations · 11 days ago

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Dissonant Constellations Chapter 13

Date: July 14, 2116 Time: 1:28 a.m. Location: Coalition Guardship Fenrir, Miril Nebula

Rebecca had often imagined what it would be like to meet Daniel Card.

To have her lifetime of dedication to their cause be honored by an audience with such a great man. To have his brilliant smile sparkle for her, as he praised her work as instrumental to achieving their Humanity-saving goals. To know, once and for all, that everything she had sacrificed, all those she had cared for and still harmed for the continuation of the Embers’ mission, had been worth it.

That his ship would be the one to rescue her from that hellhole...that the man himself was going to conduct her debrief...it was the stuff of daydreams and romance novels.

But it was real.

She was in the room with him.

She sat in a comfortable chair in a huge office on Card’s glorious Coalition Guardship, in front of an impressive wooden desk, and Daniel Card sat opposite her. His Phoenix guards stood diligently to either side of his chair, vigilant against any possible dangers.

He was as handsome as she’d seen in every recording.

It would have been perfect...if they’d let her shower first.

She couldn’t smell anything, but as a kid she had spent enough time around an aunt who smoked to know that didn’t mean she didn’t reek. No one who spent days trapped in a room without a functioning toilet or shower was going to smell good afterwards.

Now she was feet away from her hero.

Reeking.

“Are you comfortable?” Daniel Card gave her a warm smile. “Need anything before we begin? I can send Aiden out for some drinks? Maybe a mint?”

Oh dear god, how bad was her breath?

Rebecca lowered her head in embarrassment. Maybe if she didn’t point her mouth at him, it wouldn’t reach him as strongly––

“Oh, no need for the sour look.” The captain let out a short laugh; sat back in his luxuriously plush chair. “Aiden? Could you go get those mints? And how about some tea? Would you like some tea, Doctor?”

She felt her face flush as she nodded. Why hadn’t they let her shower first? This should have been one of the greatest moments of her life.

“I’m sorry for the smell,” Rebecca said quietly as the Phoenix guard passed her. She knew how sensitive their sense of smell was, and even if she somehow didn’t smell too bad to Card, she had to reek to Aiden.

“No need to apologize,” Card gave her a dismissive hand wave. “I’m the one who didn’t want to wait for a report. So, let’s get started.”

She hesitated. “Will Doctor Hammond be joining us?”

“Corey is headed to a specialist back in the colonies to have his vocal cords tended to,” Card said with a shrug. “He’ll be writing out his version while he travels, and don’t feel like waiting that long. So, congratulations. You get to walk me through it. Now, what the hell happened down there?”

That was...not a question Rebecca had expected to answer on her own, but she was suddenly very glad to be the one giving the report. Given the chance, she was certain Doctor Hammond would have tried to put all the blame on her.

She was so, so tempted to act in kind.

He hadn’t opened the door, after all. Not until their rescue cleared the entire goddamn ship twice over.

Paranoid bastard.

After that final fucking straw, she didn’t feel like covering for him.

Besides, it really was all his fault anyway.

But then there was Rick.

The source of most of the pooled, sticky blood she’d had to step over as they finally escaped that hellhole.

Hammond knew.

Just like she knew what he’d done.

If one of them told, the other could easily retaliate.

Not worth the risk.

“The subject...Kel...was in Stage Three when the...incident happened.” Best to keep it simple. “We were testing her physical limits, and had yet to find a concrete ceiling. It appears her metabolic and healing abilities are vastly superior to that of any other Phoenix our work has studied. I believe she rapidly gained a heightened tolerance to her sedatives, and managed to break out of her restraints before we could find a viable alternative––”

“Why didn’t you just put her back on ice?” Card cut in.

Rebecca winced. “When I say ‘rapidly gained...’ I mean one day the sedative worked fine, and the next, she was tearing my colleagues to pieces. We had no warning of the change until it was too late.”

At least, most of them hadn’t. Hammond could have warned them. Short-sighted asshole.

“Did she make contact with any of the others?” Card’s voice held a nervous edge.

Rebecca shook her head. “The three other subjects were all in stasis, in the hidden room Doctor Hammond and I secured. Kel was supposed to be the first through Stage Three. She never saw them. They are ready to transport to a non-compromised location whenever you wish to move them.”

“Good,” Card muttered. “Kel’s going to be enough trouble. Don’t need any other uninitiateds running around out there. Speaking of: did you put a tracker in her?”

“We did, but I doubt it’s still working,” Rebecca said. “She’s exceptionally intelligent, even for one of our subjects. She would have thought to scan herself, and...well, her pain tolerance is quite high as well. I’m betting she cut it out before she left. Or at least found a way to deactivate it.”

“But you can’t be sure?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. The storeroom jammed all sensor readings going in and out. It kept us alive, and kept the other three subjects concealed, but––”

“But you couldn’t check to see if Kel was still out there, let alone if her tracker worked,” Card let out an annoyed sigh. “And of course, Kel didn’t exactly let anybody send out a real distress signal when she routed you all. Then we couldn’t even start searching the Dolos until that Responders ship was towed away. This is going to be a tough one to track down...”

Rebecca frowned. “A Responders ship?”

“Yeah, apparently Kel sent out a distress beacon of her own,” Card shrugged. “Abducted a trauma surgeon from the first Responders ship that came to help. Not hard to guess why. The rest of their crew is fine, but she left their engines dead in the ether before she left.”

Rebecca blinked. “You let them leave?”

Card shrugged again. “Well, yeah. They’d sent out their position for all the Coalition to see. And I don’t exactly have non-Coalition Guard energy weapons hooked up to this ship. I have to keep this thing inspection-ready. It was either let them go, or have to explain why I blew them up to the next Responders ship that came to check in on them. Get it?”

Okay…it checked out, but it still worried her. That ship sounded like a huge loose end.

But this was Daniel Card.

He had to have more of a plan than he would ever reveal to someone like her.

“Of course sir,” Rebecca nodded. “It would have raised far too many questions.”

“But the captain of that Responders ship still had plenty,” Card shook his head. “Which could be a problem for us, if we can’t find Kel before she does something rash, or if that Responders captain manages to piece something together. Which is actually the second reason I wanted to meet with you today.”

Rebecca blinked. “I...I’m not sure I follow?”

“I’d give the job to Corey if I could,” Card said. “His history would make him a better fit. But he seems to have come out of his ordeal...well, something’s off with him. Beyond just his voice. We can’t reassign him until we’re sure what.”

Rebecca’s heart started pounding in her ears.

They’d find the heightened metabolism.

They’d know what she’d done to save him.

And then they’d start asking questions. Questions that would force her to choose between blatantly lying to her people, or protecting herself. Any minute now, they’d ask if––

“But, we still need a doctor to infiltrate and observe that Responders ship,” Card continued. “One that has already been briefed in this mission, and knows who and what we’re looking for. Are you up for it?”

Rebecca blinked.

A...a field assignment?

She’d never done anything like that before. She was a researcher. She’d never even been anywhere that wasn’t either part of an Embers colony, or an Embers-controlled vessel.

“Are...are you sure you want me?” Rebecca cringed even as she spoke. Who was she to question him?

Then again, he didn’t know what she’d done. He wasn’t working with all the facts.

“Not really a better choice,” Card shrugged. “Like I said, we’re not looking to brief anybody new on this mission. Best to keep this quiet, got it? So will you do us a favor and just accept already?”

A heartbreaking, selfish thought flashed through her mind.

She wasn’t a traitor, but she was sure Hammond could make her seem that way if he needed to save his own skin. And if Hammond turned on her, and opened his smarmy mouth about what she’d done to Rick...

Well, she knew what happened to traitors.

She wasn’t one.

She wasn’t.

Still, this might be her only chance.

She’d never been taught what it took to survive without the benevolence of the Cards. If she could provide useful information to her leaders, while learning what she’d need to start over, hidden somewhere deep in Coalition space, in case Hammond decided to ruin her...that was definitely something she was interested in.

“Of course, sir.” Rebecca smiled. “It would be an honor.”

“Wonderful,” Card grinned, then looked to the Phoenix guard at his left. “Can you take it from here, Fletcher?”

The Phoenix guard gave a short nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Good man,” Card nodded approvingly back, then gave Rebecca a wink. “The Embers are depending on you, doctor. Have fun.”

In a moment that made Rebecca question if she was just hallucinating this whole interaction back in that horrid room on the Dolos, Daniel Card suddenly seemed to...glitch.

Then vanished altogether.

“Cameograms have come a long way, haven’t they?” The Phoenix––Fletcher, Card had said his name was—said. There was a quirk to his left eyebrow the doctor took to be amusement.

Oh.

“I’ve never seen one so realistic,” Rebecca admitted. “But I thought this was the Fenrir? Isn’t Captain Card––”

“Captain Card is a very busy man,” Fletcher sat in Card’s chair. “He had appointments elsewhere that could not be delayed, even for a mission as vital as this. You understand.”

“Of course.” She wanted to be disappointed that she hadn’t actually been in the same room as Captain Daniel Card, but all she could feel was relief that she hadn’t actually filled his nostrils with B.O....

Wait, then what was that mint comment––

“Aiden should be back with those drinks any minute,” Fletcher said. “Along with the necessary documents we will need to modify your background into one suitable for this mission. We’ll need to begin backdating those files as soon as possible. The more time they spend in the First Responder’s systems before your...transfer, the less likely they are to be questioned. And of course, we will need to rehearse your answers to questions you will undoubtedly be asked while undercover. Professional and personal. The next few weeks are going to be long, doctor. And you likely will not be able to return home for months, if not years, once you infiltrate this vessel. Are you certain you are prepared for this?”

Absolutely not.

But she was not dying in prison.

Or worse.

...Likely worse.

“It’s an honor,” Rebecca said enthusiastically.

Then winced as Fletcher wrinkled his nose.

Cover | Synopsis | Chapter 1 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

#dissonant constellations #skywrote creations #k. c. skywrote #original writing #suspense #scifi #satire #k.c. skywrote #serial #writing

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owlsandwich · 11 months ago

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The Mechanics of Magic

Read along with me :D - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 5 and we get some nice father son time.

The Mechanics of Magic is a multiple-pov fantasy novel set in an original world where magic exists openly alongside early internet-level technology.

The book follows the surviving prince of a deposed magical royal family, who has been living in secret for two decades, trying to rescue his son whilst uncovering the truth about his family's murder.

Chapter 5 is below the cut!

Matthew paused at the gate. Someone was cutting grass in the distance, the lawnmower hum a reassuring accompaniment to the birdsong from the hedgerow. Ahead of him, a neatly kept path led up to the green door of the cottage, flanked by potted plants already dry from the morning’s sun. His little flat in Larimar might be the address on his driving licence, but this was home.

He’d just have to hope anyone pursuing him was as misinformed as the licensing agency.

Chips of paint flecked onto his palm as he creaked the gate open, and a faint chime sounded in the house when he pressed the doorbell. He didn’t have to wait long until the door was flung open. Dorothea stood there; her dark brown hair was pinned back in a messy bun that didn’t hide her curls — the same curls she’d passed on to Alex.

The friendly greeting Matthew had prepared became a hesitant noise, quickly forgotten as Dorothea threw herself into his arms. He pulled her close and let the tension of the past few days leave his body.

“I’ve missed you.” She spoke the words into his chest, leaving a pang of guilt where they landed.

“I... It’s good to see you,” Matthew replied.

She released him from the hug, and for a moment he found himself lost in the deep brown of her eyes. Dorothea smiled and looked as though she was about to say something else before the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted.

Alex bounded down the stairs to the living room, his face lighting up in a wide grin. He looked older, though it had only been a month. Taller, too — he was catching up to Matthew’s own height, despite the magic that was beginning to slow his son’s aging.

“Dad!”

“Happy birthday!” Matthew’s smile matched Alex’s as he pulled the teenager into a hug. “Sorry I couldn’t make it down sooner.”

“No worries,” Alex replied. His dark eyes were a mirror of Matthew’s own and, not for the first time, he thought how much his son looked like a curlier version of his younger self.

“You’re still staying tonight, aren’t you?” Matthew heard Dorothea’s voice coming from behind him.

He paused before replying, fighting the urge to instantly agree. Oliver had assured him it would be fine; they’d always tried to keep this place as separate from his other life as they could, but the memory of the past day kept flashing into his head. If the attackers had somehow tracked him here...

There was pain in Dorothea’s eyes at his hesitation, and Matthew felt his will break.

“Of course. I’d love to stay.” It was weak of him. His very existence put his loved ones at risk, but he needed this. All he could do was rely on Oliver’s promise to dig up some answers while he was gone.

“That’s great!” Alex couldn’t hide his excitement. He was as easy to read as his mother. “We can do breakfast tomorrow as well then.”

Matthew laughed. “You haven’t even told me what we’re doing today!” His son always had a plan in the works, but Alex shook his head.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

“You’re both off out straight away then?” Dorothea snuggled warm against Matthew’s body. “Did you at least want a drink first?”

“Can’t, Mum! We need to go.” Alex pushed past to grab his shoes and Matthew gave Dorothea an apologetic look.

“I guess I’ll see you a bit later.”

She looked up at him, shaking her head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Have a great time wherever you end up. Alex, don’t run your dad too ragged. He doesn’t look it, but he’s getting old!”

“Hey! No need to call me out.”

Alex gave his mum a brief wave of acknowledgement before disappearing out of the front door and Dorothea ushered Matthew out after him.

The air in the car was stifling, even after only a few minutes in the midday sun. Matthew reached for his magic and formed a spell to pull the heat away, noting Alex’s close observation as he did so.

“Don’t sit on the presents,” Matthew warned, as Alex climbed in beside him. “Sorry about the scuffed one. That’s Oliver’s.” He received a quizzical look. “Best not to ask.”

“Shall I open them now?”

“Maybe tell me where we’re off to first, and then open them on the way?” Matthew replied. It wasn’t much of a guess to say it was something magic related, especially since Alex had not mentioned it in front of his mother.

When Alex was born, Matthew had almost hoped he would inherit the same lack of magic as Dorothea. There was little stigma towards non-mages in Ardveld nowadays, and it would have served as an extra precaution against those who might notice the family resemblance. But Alex took after Matthew in more than just his looks. The signs had shown from the moment he’d hit his teens, and though Matthew knew Dorothea was pleased, magic became something they shared that she could never take part in.

Alex seemed to hesitate before responding. “Do you remember Golebach Court?”

“The old house?” He’d been a few times before and even taken Alex when he was much younger. It was a beautifully preserved site, situated on the mountainous coastline about forty-five minutes north of Couden Cross. Certainly a pleasant place, but unusual for an eighteen-year-old to request for a birthday trip. “Is that where we’re going?” He tried not to show his surprise.

“There’s a talk there today!” Alex’s eyes were full of excitement again. “On the history of the building and the Champions.”

This time Matthew couldn’t mask his bewilderment and he could tell Alex had caught sight of his expression. “That sounds great!” he said, trying to cover. “I’m just surprised you don’t want to go for your first drink or something. Though it would be a bit early in the day.” He laughed and Alex rolled his eyes.

“Sure, Dad. First drink.”

“Shall I pretend I didn’t hear that?” Matthew replied, turning on the car’s engine. “We’d better get going then. What time does this talk start?”

“There’s one an hour and they’re doing them all day,” Alex said. He continued after a pause. “I thought it would be fun for us to do together. Like when I was a kid, you know? I always liked when we’d go out and you’d talk about magic or history or whatever.” He gave a dismissive shrug that didn’t do much to hide the fact that he was obviously seeking assurance.

Affection flooded Matthew’s heart as he realised why his son had chosen this place. He’d never expected Alex to notice his love of Ardveld’s history, his only way of discussing the heritage they shared. The fact that his son was interested at all meant the world to him.

“It’s a really good idea,” Matthew said, and he meant it. “Hey, and maybe we can find a decent pub somewhere nearby afterwards.”

“Sounds great!”

The rolling fields soon gave way to a dramatic, windswept coastline, as they neared their destination. Mountains rose on the horizon, indicating Ardveld’s northern border. They hugged the country from the coast all the way to where it flanked Vailberg in the east. The town they were headed for sat at the base of the mountain range, with Golebach Court on a rise overlooking the sea.

Alex opened his presents during the journey. Oliver’s parcel contained a rather boring looking book on electricity that he seemed overjoyed to receive, and once again Matthew was left to wonder if he was lacking some important understanding of his son.

Then again, the gift from Matthew himself made Alex exclaim in delight. “I was pretty sure you didn’t have one already,” he explained. “I know they’re becoming more common out here, though you might find the signal a bit poor.”

The mobile phone was made of smooth, grey plastic — the newest model on the market. Such technology was a familiar sight in the city, Ademeer having practically as much technology as any Velbian city nowadays. Now the infrastructure had been extended far enough into Ardveld that it should be usable, even out here.

“I’ve already gone and put mine and Oliver’s numbers on there, as well as home,” Matthew continued. “I can give you a quick rundown on using it if you like, but knowing you, you’ll be an expert in half a day.” Alex’s love of technology outstripped even his love of magic.

When they pulled into the car park at the bottom of the hill, the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky. Their conversation flowed easily, ranging from friends and work to Dorothea’s business. The fresh tang of salty air was a welcome balm as they wandered up the steep path to the stately home.

The manor was no longer lived in and was open to the public for a small fee, but the grounds that surrounded it were accessible to everyone for free. Matthew saw families already setting up blankets for picnics, children running underneath the ancient ornamental trees that punctuated the rolling lawn. A little sign by the entrance confirmed what Alex had said earlier; the next talk would begin on the hour.

Golebach Court shone in the sunlight — three storeys of sandy stone under an emerald-tiled roof. A large entranceway jutted out from the front, its double doors flanked by a haughty statue of an owl on either side. The heraldic shield of the Tactician was displayed above the doorway; it showed a castle tower that Matthew knew would be counterchanged green and silver were it not carved in stone.

Right on time, the historian leading the talk arrived. He was a slender old man with glasses and a tidy moustache, and the small group of people who had been milling around the courtyard converged beside him as he announced the start of the tour.

Once they had all trooped inside the building, it took a moment for Matthew’s eyes to adjust to the dim light. The heavy curtains over each window pulled shut had done wonders to keep out the heat of the day. He had a vague memory that this house had once belonged to a distant ancestor of Oliver’s, donated to the public when the cost of upkeep had outweighed the family’s need for yet another home.

Little more than remnants of the kingdom’s noble families remained. These were families with the highest magic levels; an elite ruling class from which the Royal Family had drawn their advisers before the takeover. The survivors quickly adapted. Those that didn’t had left Ardveld’s historic buildings to fall into ruin, or to be bought up by the wealthy of Vailberg.

As they wandered through the rooms, Matthew realised he had been too lost in his thoughts to pay attention to the guide’s talk, a detailed introduction to the building’s construction and decor. Alex, however, was listening attentively, and Matthew felt a touch of embarrassment at his lack of focus.

They were in a dining room now, extravagantly ornamented and dominated by a polished table, laid out for a dinner that would never come.

“What we do know is that many members of the family did go on to become Royal Champions,” the guide continued as Matthew tuned back in. “A role determined by their ability rather than inheritance. The four Champions were said to be chosen by ancient magic, a system that formed the cornerstone of Ardveldian leadership and served as a powerful agent against corruption.”

Matthew snorted, earning himself a reproachful glare from their guide.

“As I was saying…” The man’s voice drifted off as he led the party through to the next room, beginning some explanation of how disabling life would have once been for a non-mage in Ardveld and gesturing at the magelights near the ceiling. Only Alex was left lagging behind, and Matthew stopped to wait.

“You don’t believe the Champions were chosen by magic?” Alex asked as soon as they were alone. The question didn’t surprise him; Matthew knew he hadn’t been subtle.

“It’s not that.” Matthew chose his words carefully. “There’s plenty of evidence for the passing of magic from one Champion to the next, as I’m sure you know.”

“Yeah, though I can totally see why there would be sceptics. It’s hard to believe anyone could change their natural magic level, especially when the stories say some who did so weren’t even mages to begin with. How would a spell like that even work?”

Matthew chewed his lip and thought for a moment. “I suppose... I suppose I think it’s important to keep a critical mind when hearing these old legends. It’s very convenient that the magic supposedly makes the system fair. That each Champion was some kind of predestined, inarguable choice.”

Alex was looking at him intently and Matthew checked that the rest of the group was now far out of earshot. He continued speaking quietly as they moved to catch up. “It’s a good story of course… Makes people feel that any of them could have been a Champion. But do you really think the Royal Family would have left something like that to chance?”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose there must be more to it. I always thought it was just because stronger mages would make better Champions, anyway. Since magic’s genetic, it makes sense that the Champions would have come from high magic families, doesn’t it?”

“There is often a genetic link, true,” Matthew replied, “though it’s not a guarantee of anything. Besides, what makes you think being strong made them the best for the job?” His mind returned to Dorothea and how much she had achieved with no magic at all.

They caught up with the tour outside, exiting from the back of the property onto a patio that led to a small, formal garden. A path ran through the flowerbeds, leading down to a stone structure set into the lawn beyond. Four grey arches surrounded a platform embedded in the ground, the stone cracked and sprinkled with tufts of grass.

A wave of nostalgia hit Matthew as he got closer to the formation; it was a comforting sensation that he struggled to place until he realised it was coming from the ground itself. Magical energy radiated from below the stones, like a slow-moving river running under his feet.

He’d felt magic like this before. It was present at many historic magical sites in the kingdom, but it had been particularly strong at the palace. Back home. Not the home he’d chosen as an adult, but the home of his childhood. Leaving it behind had been like switching off a background sound he hadn’t noticed. The silence without it had been deafening.

Basking in the pleasant feeling, Matthew stood with Alex behind the others, the sun on his back contrasting with the cooling flow of the ground’s magic. According to the guide, the original purpose of the stone structure had been lost to time, but some people believed it marked an ancient site of magical significance. A fair enough conclusion given the latent power present.

“With this reputation, it makes sense that high magic families would have settled close by. Indeed the majority of sites like this one have a castle or manor nearby.” The man drawled on, and Matthew looked at Alex again.

He must have heard from the university, Matthew thought. Their conversations had skirted the issue so neatly that Matthew was now sure Alex was avoiding the topic as well. Perhaps he’d been rejected. The idea didn’t please him, even with the relief from worry that it promised.

Talk over, the group dispersed, again leaving the two of them alone. In no rush to move on, Matthew watched as Alex stepped closer to the old structure and ran his hand across the stone.

“It feels nice here, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah...” Alex replied, appearing to be lost in thought.

“So… did you hear—” Matthew began, just as Alex spoke, too.

“I heard back—”

They both stopped and Matthew laughed, leaning back against one of the pillars. “Go on,” he said encouragingly, hoping he’d succeeded in keeping the agitation from his voice.

He was met with a nervous smile. “I got in! To Aedemeer!”

“You did?” His throat seemed tight. “That’s great!”

“I know, right! Mum was so excited she cried. We’re going to start getting some bits for me to take. Kitchen stuff, you know.”

“You’re planning on accepting the place then?” Visions of the two men at the tearoom prodded at Matthew’s mind, accompanied by some other, much older memories that he’d rather permanently forget. “What’s your plan for travel? You know if you were closer, you could commute in. It would save on costs, and your mother—”

“Dad! It’s Aedemeer!” Alex exclaimed. “It’s the most prestigious university in the country! I’m not going to turn them down because the bus is cheaper.”

Matthew’s shoulders slumped as Alex continued, words tumbling out as his bewilderment turned to exasperation.

“You know I took my prototype generator to the interview? They loved it! They can see how big it could be. It could bring electricity to anywhere in Ardveld! Places not connected to the grid.”

“You fixed the efficiency issues?” Matthew had seen an early version of the generator months before. Back then, it had struggled to power a lightbulb for ten minutes.

“I did!” Alex met his eyes defiantly. “It powered a concert, no problem. For almost four hours.”

“Four hours?” That was impressive, and Matthew felt a swell of pride. It made sense that Aedemeer would want his son; Alex was every bit as exceptional as he’d always believed. “How much magic did it take?”

“…Not much.” Alex suddenly became very interested in the stone behind him.

“How much is not much?”

“Like, only a day’s worth.” He shrugged.

“A day!” That was more than Matthew had suspected, even with Alex’s reluctance to answer. He wouldn’t put it past his son to make himself ill to keep the generator going, either.

“What? I charged it in the morning and I was back to normal the day after,” Alex shrugged. “It’s not a problem.”

“It is a problem if you exhaust yourself. You said you’re planning on using this in rural areas? Do you think people out have anywhere near enough magic for that, seeing as it took you a day’s worth?” Matthew ran a hand through his hair, trying not to wonder how many people had noticed his son was strong enough to generate that kind of power. “Not everyone’s got as high a magic level as you.”

“Then we just get it charged by a stronger mage before sending it out. It’ll be more efficient by then and—”

“No mage is going to use their entire day’s worth of magic on one passive spell!” Matthew could usually charge more than thirty spells in one shift, and those wouldn’t need a top-up for a month or more. His own day rate would make just four hours of electricity completely unaffordable. “I just don’t think it’s viable.”

Alex didn’t respond. Instead, he was looking at the ground, crushing defeat written over his face.

Shit. This wasn’t how Matthew had planned for this conversation to go.

“But… it’s only a prototype, right?” he smiled weakly, trying to repair some of the damage. “The potential is great! I can see why the uni loved it.”

“Okay Dad.” Alex’s tone was flat and he didn’t look up.

“Hey, I mean it.” He reached out a hand, but Alex ducked away before he could make contact. Letting his arm drop, Matthew buried his hurt. “Why don’t we go get some food?”

A change of scene would help. Neither of them had eaten since before they had left the house and hunger, undoubtedly, wasn’t improving the situation.

“Sure.” Alex was already walking away.

#themechanicsofmagic #writeblr #fantasy writing #fantasy books

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let-me-be-an-egg-toast · 8 months ago

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PROLOGUE - MURPHY LAW.

SCENE 1 - SCENE 2 - SCENE 3 FADE IN: INT. MURPHY LAW DETECTIVE AGENCY - NIGHT A light-skinned man looked out his slatted windows, leaning against the side of his dry, concrete wall. He held a lit cigarette in his left hand, the other in the pocket of his tan slacks. Behind him, his coat rack held his trillby hat and trench coat; they've seen better days out in fresher and brutal moonlight. A couple's laughter rang out from across the street. He looks at them as he takes another puff from his cigarette, walking away. He puts it out in the ash tray, and sits on his chair, putting his feet up on his mahogany desk. This was MURPHY. His face is hardened enough to hit steel and make it dent, but enough to also know he has seen and experienced many things throughout his unforgiving line of work that would make a normal man drop himself cold. His voice was rough, like that of a chain smoker who ate 50 packs a day, used whiskey as his mouthwash, and still lived, unfortunately.

NARRATOR: They say it's a lonely world out there, but thats because they don't know it's better to be alone than to risk your back being filled with 20 pounds of lead in a dark alleyway because of someone you thought was your associate. Just ask the office workers, they'll tell you all about it. He pours whiskey into his shot glass and gyrates it idly in his hand, watching the amber liquid move and swirl against it's prison's clear and crystalline walls. NARRATOR: I've had my own share of them. Red herrings that led to deep sinkholes that almost cost me my life. Seeing the rope you're holding on to slowly snapping before your eyes, and the only feeling that remains is knowing no one will be there to catch you. NARRATOR: If that happens, well that's on you.

He can already taste the usual numbing burn. He can already see his memories going through his eyes like a broken film reel, replaying over and over again until it gradually becomes worn and fades away. He doesn't drink the whiskey; he isn't feeling it, oddly enough, considering it was almost water to his body. He's itching for something, and it's crawling all over underneath his skin, climbing his bones and pounding in his mind. Worst of all, he doesn't know what it is. He puts the glass away on his desk. NARRATOR: When you're me, you can only rely on yourself. No one will or can get to you, because you yourself alone are the only one who knows your blind spots. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, watching its orange glow illuminate the dark, barely moonlit office. NARRATOR: It's easier that way. The smoke fills the room and he breathes it in, releasing himself into its familiar smell. Suddenly, knocks cut through the silence, snapping MURPHY back into consciousness. His eyes widen a bit, but he recomposed himself. NARRATOR: But maybe....sometimes....it's not so bad to hope. To let yourself rely on someone. A little back-up in case something will go wrong... MURPHY: (not looking up) Come in. NARRATOR: Someone to trust... Instead of a familiar, redheaded face, it was a random mailman. NARRATOR: And someone to disappoint you in the end. MURPHY: What are you doing here? A growl slipped unconsciously into his tone, making the mailman hesitate a bit. NARRATOR: But that's only if you let yourself be disappointed... MAILMAN: Um...just some special mail for you sir... He holds out a letter to MURPHY, and the latter reaches for it, analyzing it's mediocrity. MAILMAN: From an...O5-1 -- sir? MURPHY growls at the name. NARRATOR: Of course. It's the Foundation again. TITLE SPLASH: Murphy Law in...SCP-[REDACTED]-1 -- TOUCH OF NIGHT!

random text please stop putting format errors I'm going to scream

#scp 3143 #scp-3143 #scp 423 #scp-423 #scp 3143 x scp 423

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axkirak · 1 year ago

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Renegada♱

Taglist: @707otto @juxt4p0siti0n (If you want to be added in this fic, just tell me in reply )

Pairings: Amado Carrillo Fuentes x f!reader(Latina Reader) x Walt Breslin [From Narcos: Mexico TV Series]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK) Ps. this chapter had Heavy Angst

Synopsis : The bombing incident at the police station triggered painful memories from the past for you, and you made the decision to let Walt know all about it.

AN : I drew inspiration for this chapter from my favorite movies, which are "The Kingdom" (2007) and "Zero Dark Thirty" (2012). This is why I chose the female lead to be a CIA agent. It's quite dramatic, but I hope you'll enjoy it.

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𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙙𝙖♱ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

➡ Previous : Next

[4]ᅳ 𝐎𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐫 ✟

A torn page from a travel magazine has been pinned to the bulletin board inside the large conference room by your hand. It depicts an image of a beautiful island in the middle of the ocean, revealing crystal-clear waters with visible fish swimming beneath, the sunlight glistening above the palm tree tops, and beneath the palm trees, two or three people in bright swimsuits smiling and seemingly joyful. The caption reads, 'Aruba, paradise for peace and nature lovers.'

"Planning a tropical vacation, are you?" A soft chuckle follows after Diego speaks up. You turn back with a hint of 'How funny!' written on your face before hesitating and hurriedly amending your tone upon seeing Julio enter as the last person. He glances at you for a moment before nodding slightly, a sign permitting the morning meeting to commence.

The atmosphere switches from informal to professional immediately as you begin recounting the details of your conversation with Amado from the previous day, which you had anticipated must occur.

Firstly, they have no idea that you have had secret contact with Amado.

Secondly, because what Amado wanted seemed deeply personal,

"I think he might be planning something or perhaps escaping the tense situation in Mexico temporarily. Either way, this is an opportune moment to keep an eye on him while he's away from the drug scene," you say.

"Aruba is under the jurisdiction of the Netherlands' autonomy; you know that, right?" Bill interjects with a scrutinizing frown. "And if I remember correctly, it's a tax haven[1] for the wealthy."

"I know," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Holland[2] has been politically neutral since World War II."

"And do you know what this means? Because the Netherlands, the ultimate middleman, won't do a thing, whether it's money laundering or drug lords vacationing there."

Bill isn't the only one concerned about this. Even Julio, who has been silent for a while, seems to agree with Bill. He takes a breath before adding, "Bill is right. Mexico and the United States can't just waltz into that territory, and the Netherlands won't extradite criminals."

"But we're not going to apprehend him at all; just keep an eye on him," you emphasize.

"That's not the point," someone interjects, pausing to glance at the familiar sound. You see Walt on the other side of the table, looking at you openly.

"You'll have to stay close to him, and we won't be able to reach you. If anything happens to you there, we won't know, and we won't be able to help you," Walt's words reasoned. To put it bluntly, this mission is more dangerous than any other the DEA has done before because no one can get as close as you can, and being close to a drug lord is like being in shark-infested water or a lion's den. It's no different from throwing away your life.

However, what seemed like a downside to this mission has turned into a strength. Even though they may try to argue, no one dares to stand against it. You notice that other agents are silently looking at each other, still conflicted and uncertain. So you decide not to push your proposal any further. The CIA stands up and stretches, glancing briefly at Walt before turning back to your superior.

"Whatever you say, boss,"

With that, you leave the conference room, cigarette in hand, feeling every nerve in your body tense and scream for nicotine. You have to step outside the police building to smoke since you've been reprimanded more than a hundred times for smoking indoors.

As you walk out of the police station, you hear footsteps following closely behind. You had a slight hope it might be Walt, but you're disappointed when you see Diego, your Mexican colleague, catching up to you. He already has a cigarette in his mouth, and he gives you a small greeting smile before flicking open his lighter.

"You leave a big bomb in the conference room. You Know that, Right?"

You chuckle dryly before handing him your cigarette for a light. "Well, you know how it is. Just a casual suggestion."

Diego shrugs, takes a drag, and exhales slowly. "Speaking as a cop, it's plausible. But as a friend, I'm concerned that you're going alone."

"Don’t worry, bro. I've taken plenty of risks before coming here, and I've been doing this every day until now."

"Are you talking about the war against terrorism with Bin Laden?" Diego's eyes immediately light up because it's rare for you to speak about your past missions. "Do you know how much your story is talked about among us? I heard you survived Al Qaeda's bomb."

Sometimes the past and the present are oddly connected.

As Diego mentions the bomb, you flashback to the time when you were still in Pakistan. You were standing by the roadside, looking at a red car that had exploded right in front of you.

you should have been in that car. That's a narrow escape.

And the memories from the past come flooding back once again. When you saw another car parked not far away, the same make but gray, something triggered in your mind. It was like a little superstition that usually happens when something bad is about to occur, like stumbling on your own feet or bumping into a door.

But what happened on that Monday morning in front of the National Police Headquarters was much worse than any of those.

You hastily pushed Diego far away with an instinctual shove, and in the blink of an eye, everything seemed to rip apart and scatter into chaos. Fire and hot air exploded from the car, dispersing in all directions. The deafening roar drowned out everything else, trembling so intensely that it almost felt like you couldn't hear anything else but the noise, like the annoying buzz in your ears.

Your body was flung several meters, rolling on the ground before finally coming to a stop. You weren't sure how long you lay there; it seemed like an hour in your mind, but in reality, it might have been just a few minutes. You felt nothing, and everything in your head was a whirlwind, muddled, and unclear, like a fogged-up glass smeared with something wet. You raised your hand to wipe it away from your face and realized it was blood from your head.

You struggled to get up again. The waves of pain crashed over you until you nearly vomited again, but you still had enough consciousness to hold yourself together. The annoying buzz remained in your ears. You looked up as someone held your cheek.

Diego, who was in a similar dazed state, was muttering something, but you didn't hear it. You didn't care about it either. You raised your face to the completely exploded and burned-out car without even knowing that you were crying out loud.

Everything remained the same and unchanged, whether it was past or present.

And you've never been able to escape these haunting memories at all.

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‘Car bomb outside the National Police Office and the United States Embassy in Mexico City, injuring more than twenty people,’ headlined today's newspapers. It has become a major news event that has shaken not only Mexico City but also Washington, D.C. Excluding the previous violent incidents from the ruthless terrorist, there has never been such a severe attack on American officials abroad. And, until now, no one knew for sure the extent of the cartel's involvement.

For the United States government, this is a serious affront to a major world power. They demand accountability from Mexico and won't just stand by without punishing those responsible for the violence.

These situations directly impact the Merida Initiative, especially the White Storm mission. Under pressure from higher-ups looking for results to ease the tension between the two nations, orders have been transmitted through the distributed embassy network to all DEA agents in Mexico. The lengthy documents can be summarized as, "Get it done now, or be prepared to shut down."

The atmosphere in the tense office was at its peak. For the overall mission to continue, it was necessary to do something quickly, at least in part. The proposal on the Aruba Island case, which you had suggested, had been reconsidered and was now fully approved without any objections.

"They've gone crazy, haven't they? You barely survived, and they're still sending you to die."

It's not often you see Walt squirm with your own eyes, but it made sense from his perspective. Assigning injured agents from the bombing to a high-risk mission immediately after just one week's recovery was a terrible option for dealing with these complicated problems. But it also made it clear that they had no other choice and couldn't avoid the worst-case scenario.

"I'm not seriously injured here,and nothing's broken. Nothing's missing. I can still work." You sipped your coffee and leaned back against your kitchen counter. Your demeanor was calm, without much distress, as if you already knew it had to be this way.

It's lucky that you weren't severely injured in the explosion, apart from a minor concussion and superficial wounds all over your body. There's almost nothing to worry about. Comparatively, with both of Diego's arms and legs broken, causing him to have a month-long break, your condition seemed almost miraculous.

Miraculous—something that's happened to you before, back in Saudi Arabia.

"Let's be honest here. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if you're insane." Walt stood and abandoned his now-cold cup of coffee, just like your untouched pancakes. The tension from the minor spat this morning had seemingly left breakfast tasteless.

"What choice do I have, Walt? This mission is critically important, and I have to do it no matter what."

"But your life is just as important," he says.

This time, you chose not to respond. You know that speaking your mind would only make him angrier than before.

During this uncomfortable silence, Walt continues to stare at you, as if he wants to delve deep into your thoughts and cross the walls you've built. But you're too afraid to let him get too close, so you intentionally avoid his gaze.

"Can't you tell me why?" The man's words are more than the typical expressions of concern.

You tend to push yourself too hard and take on too much risk, and at first he thought it might be an outsider's need to prove themselves to the team. But as time went on, Walt realized it was more than that. You seemed to be holding onto something, focusing solely on the missions you undertook as if they were the only thing that could provide solace. It's something he understood, as he felt much the same way after losing his brother, Martin, and his former partner, Tommy.

But who is that person for you?, Walt couldn't say. Your identity as a CIA agent has always been shrouded in mystery.

"Do you want to know about my past missions before I came to work here?" It comes out as an unexpectedly straightforward question. However, when you lift your head to meet his gaze, Walt notices the faint vulnerability hidden behind your dark, somber eyes. It's not something he's seen from this woman since they started working together.

This is the revelation of your significant secret, one that no one has ever uncovered before.

You took a deep breath and placed the coffee on the counter. There was no reason to keep these things from him any longer.

"I spent over a decade in Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, dedicating my life to hunting down Bin Laden. But it's not just my life that was lost; it's the lives of everyone I loved." Your hand tapped on the necklace You wore unconsciously, beyond the Dog Tag. There was also a plain silver ring that hung from a chain. The cold touch of metal felt colder than ever.

"His name was Faris Qazi, the head of Saudi Arabia's commando unit, and he was my fiancé. We planned to get married after all this madness ended. I was willing to convert to Islam, and he Al-Yamin[3] to have me as his only wife. But just three days after we had agreed to marry, he was attacked and killed because of me. I sent him to die based on information I was so sure was correct. That day, I should've been the one to go on the mission, not him. I was the one who should've died from the beginning."

You watch everything through tracking cameras and listen through communication radios. You heard the screams, the explosions, the gunfire, and his last words, assuring you that it was okay and that he would make it back.

Faris eventually came back to you, but not in the way you expected. It wasn't in a living form. What was returned were pieces of his body, separated and sent directly to the American embassy in a large box. His left finger from the remaining corpse still wears the silver ring, soaked in blood—the engagement ring between you and him.

And that was not the only loss that C.I.A. agents had to face.

"And Janet Carter, my colleague. She was the one who supported me when I lost Faris. She swore with me that we would seek revenge for what happened. She helped me investigate and connect with a man who had access to Bin Laden. We arranged to meet him in Pakistan. He drove up in a red car. Janet told me to wait because she would be the one to talk. It was a disastrous decision. Al-Qaida deceived us and sent a car bomb to kill me. Their target was me, the one leading the main mission. But the one who had to face the consequences was Janet. I saw the explosion. I saw my friend lying on the road, still breathing. She screamed, tortured beyond endurance. She begged me to shoot her, and I did."

There isn't a single tear when you recount the tragedy to Walt. But the man knows that beneath that composed facade and the chillingly calm voice, you are no different from a fragile glass filled with countless fractures, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

"Y/N, it's not your fault."

"But it was my duty. If I had chosen to follow my initial duty, no one would have to die in my place." You lock eyes with him, deadly serious. "We've all come too far to turn back now. Both you and I know that better than anyone."

For a moment, your gaze made him shudder. Walt knows well enough that you meant something more, for it's not just you who has gone through loss. He himself has experienced it, and no one can understand each other's pain better than those who have gone through the same kind of hell.

You smiled ever so slightly at the person in front of you. "I just don't want you to blame yourself if something happens to me, because it's not your fault the same way it's not mine."

As you finish speaking, Walt hugs you before you can react. It was a tight, intimate hug that allowed you to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat on the left side of his chest and a trembling force that seems to almost give in to tears, but Walt doesn't cry or say anything except for hugging you tightly in silence.

You took a slow breath before closing your eyes, and you chose to hug him back just as tightly. It wasn't easy for both Walt and yourself, whether it was this mission or the complex relationship you shared with him.

It could end in a beautiful success or in mistakes and losses like before. Everything was possible

But whatever happened, you were ready to let it unfold.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- [1] A tax haven is a group of Caribbean islands that have tax policies with low tax rates or tax exemptions, making them a significant hub for the movement of a large amount of money, both legally and illegally. and also crucial in the money laundering process, especially for drug traffickers.

[2]Netherlands declared neutrality during World War I between the years 1914 to 1918 and declared neutrality once again during World War II before being invaded by Nazi forces between the years 1940 to 1945.

[3] yamin يمين, It is emphasizing the swear by mentioning the names of Allah or from His other titles

#narcos: mexico #amado carrillo fuentes #narcos mexico netflix #narcos x reader #amado carrillo fuentes x reader #amado carrillo fuentes x you #narcos fic #narcos mexico fanfic #narcos mexico fanfiction #narcos: mexico tv series #walt breslin #walt breslin x you #walt breslin x reader #jose maria yazpik #scoot mcnairy #Renegada♱

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zatrinaxxx · 2 years ago

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ORDERS

¡AVATAR DE JAKE SULLY X FEM! NA'VI.

part 1, part 2 soon on my profile, I'll try to learn how to link it here.

✰[ You entered the battlegroup led by Jake Sully. And it didn't take long for him to realize that you're a born follower]✰

Warnings:jealous jake, opportunistic jake, and… I don't know what else to put. read at your own risk

🤍[ friendly reminder: My native language is not English, don't hesitate to tell me if you see any spelling mistake. As long as they're nice.]🤍

✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰

After the battle against the sky people, you decided to give up your position as an animal keeper in the village and joined the battle group.

Of course, at first it wasn't easy, you had less muscle mass than the females that belonged to the group and zero use of weapons, and although they were about to throw you out of the group because of your uselessness, something convinced the boss to keep you.

And it was not your improvement in the field of war, no, it was your great ability to listen and obey direct orders that convinced the great Toruk Makto to leave you, with the false promise that he would help improve your lack of training while the only thing What he was doing was selfishly preserving their interest.

Jake's interest in you dates back to the beginnings of his new life as a Navi It was at a time like any other, I was going straight to the tree of souls when you collided with it, murmuring a soft apology without looking into his eyes and continuing on your way.

he was captivated immediately coming to ask Tsutey and Neytiri insistently who you were and why I just saw you now. Receiving vague and inconclusive answers, he decided to leave the subject until there, wondering when he would take the courage to disappear from his system when he saw you.

until it happens, he sees you standing in the training row struggling to hold the bow in the most correct way possible and failing in the attempt and that's when he comes to you helping you in the same way that Neytiri helped him, trying to be as as close as possible to your environment making itself felt, but it didn't work, nothing did.

until one of the helpers arrives with the report that you will be kicked out of the group and he sees his opportunity, his opportunity to have you closer, to become someone you trust.

And he does it, little by little you are letting go of your shyness and that's when he notices it, no matter how absurd his request is, you do it without question, fulfilling his mandate to the letter and he loved it. but what he didn't love was how the new recruit has set his eyes on you and you do nothing to prevent him from doing it, giving him the sweet smiles that are supposed to be for him, saying good morning with that melodious voice that so much He likes it and worrying about the new one in everything that happened to him.

The straw that broke the camel's back for Jake was seeing how the new man put his hands on your shoulders, gently squeezing them, raising one of his hands to one of your braids which he pulled playfully. When I see your blush, I can't stand it, I walk furiously towards you, interrupting the friendly chat they were having.

-You! - faces the subject with an annoyed face- don't you have anything better to do? instead of flirting?

-Y-yes, sir- upon noticing the angry face of his boss, the boy Navi runs away without even muttering a goodbye. His eyes roll to the back of his head with a snort. Is that the type of man you're looking for? Not to be cocky or arrogant but… he's a thousand times better match than that brat.

-And you- he goes towards you with a growl- you come with me- he starts walking without any kind of warning and you practically run to be at his side.

-Is something wrong, Mr. Sully? - You gasp a little tired from practically running - Have I done something wrong? - He stops dead and you imitate him. I turned to see you and you can see the anger in his eyes.

-Is it your partner?- You frown, confused.

-What do you mean?-

-That Navi, is he your partner? did you mate with him?-

You didn't understand the reason for his question, he was practically your teacher or trainer within the battle group, but, outside of it, your personal life doesn't have to matter. But you don't know if it's because of the obvious anger in his voice or the confidence he you developed from being around the male these last few months but you respond.

-No sir, we're just friends- his expression relaxes slightly and with a nod he walks again.

-Okay, don't talk to him again-

-Cla-clear sir- and may Eywa forgive him if he says he didn't want to take you at that very moment, your obedience set him off and he didn't understand how the hell you can be so faithful and obedient, waiting for his orders like a little puppy that is lost without his master.

He's fucking in love.

✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰

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monocytogenes · 11 months ago

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Hi fam! For DA Pravin: 🐉 DRAGON, 🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN, 🤍 WHITE HEART. For SWTOR Pravin: 💜 PURPLE HEART, 😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES, 🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND

Pravin Talavera

🐉 what is your oc’s favorite mythical creature?

Probably something that isn't too monstrous or akin to darkspawn, lol, since he's all NOPE about that sort of thing. I imagine there's some fun mythological creatures in Antivan culture, often related to wild and weird stuff sailors witness out at sea--Pravin would be fond of sirens or mermaids, given the combination of sexiness and danger and the absolute numbers they would do in songs, poetry and theatrical works.

🖊️ does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos?

(IS METRION OFFERING LOL)

I imagine tattoos are not really a thing in Orlesian culture--they're viewed as either primitive or potentially criminal, given associations with the Dalish and transient types like sailors. Matters are a bit different in Antiva, where you have some cultural cross-pollination from Rivain, but they still tend to be associated with particular professions like the Crows, who have their own sets of designs and associated meanings. They're much less common among the nobility on the whole due to their conscious imitation of Orlesian norms.

So no, Pravin doesn't have any tattoos. I'm sure he's painted them on from time to time when playing certain Antivan and Riviani characters, but he finds the notion of having actual tats kind of low class and demonstrably foreign in his adopted homeland. As an actor and bard, he values adaptability in his appearance besides; putting something permanent and identifying on his skin rather stands in the way of that intention.

🤍 what are three of your oc’s neutral/questionable traits?

(1) His paranoia. It's a natural consequence of his trauma, and one that's unquestionably rewarding in his illicit line of work--much of why he's such a talented bard, apart from his impressive ability to intuit people's feelings and desires and lie accordingly, is his anxiety-driven compulsion to really think through potential contingencies and plan around them. He's always double-checking locks, sitting with his back to a wall, disclosing just enough in conversations to keep the powerful from exercising too much leverage over him. He's got blackmail atop blackmail in the hands of various friends, ready to be whispered into the right ears should someone consider taking him out. He holds people at arms' length in the most pleasant way possible until they prove themselves reliable, and even then, there's few individuals he's truly willing to trust.

The flipside of this is that it not infrequently hampers his intimate relationships. He can be too harsh and protective in his assessments--as with Thalia, whose apparent dearth of self-preservation instincts freaks him out--and too unwilling to voice his true thoughts and feelings when that means putting himself in a vulnerable position. He's loath to admit when he's in pain, hesitant to confess his more unpalatable impulses, and uses sex as a coping mechanism because Maker forbid he submit to the ordeal of being known. It's very much a "in loving you, I show you exactly where to cut me" sort of thing--sometimes one just has to take the risk to enjoy the benefits, and striking that balance is difficult for him.

(2) His judginess with respect to his art. He holds himself to high standards, and he's benefited from that drive--while the Orlesian theater community was warm and welcoming to him from the get-go, actually making it to roles like those he played at the Grande Royeaux required copious technical skill and deep cultural understanding, something he needed to cultivate through intent observation and days upon weeks of practice. The fact that he was able to impress Orlais' most discerning audiences has really been the pride of his life.

It did, however, also make him more intolerant of divergent takes and beginners' stumbles than he probably should be. He reminds himself that he, too, was an amateur once, and can largely keep himself in check when actual ignorance is involved, but Maker, there's some interpretations of roles by players who Ought to Know Better that he'll get super bitchy about. (Gaubert likes to give him a hard time when he's really taking personal offense to a performance as an insult to the craft. Like, settle down, just pass over it in silence…)

(3) His attitude towards sexuality. He's good about it on several counts--highly giving, conscious of consent, excellent at communication throughout, accepting of different sexualities and preferences while forward about his own. He gets his pleasure largely through satisfying his partners, and really frames his encounters around that.

He does, however, use sex as a tool, both in the service of bard work and to generally ignore his own troubles. While he's honest about his attraction--he won't sleep with people he finds physically repulsive--he has lied about his ultimate intentions and feigned attachment to get information or access to a space. He knows leading someone on isn't kind, but he'll nevertheless do it if it'll help him complete a job. Apart from that, as previously mentioned, he'll focus on getting a partner off so he doesn't have to think over his own messy feelings or discuss stuff he's going through--it's a high as much as anything chemical, a bandage to slap over wounds that really need suturing, just so he can avoid looking at them for a bit. (Really, is he even bleeding if he can't see it?)

Pravin Winscliff II

💜 what is your oc’s ancestry/genetic background?

So! In the Empire you've got a few basic ancestral groups: people who can (or claim they can) trace their ancestry back to the oldest families (sith and immigrant Jedi), human families who were enslaved/vassals of the above before the Great Hyperspace War, humans from territories conquered after the Great Hyperspace War, and aliens of whatever type. The dominant narrative of course is that the foremost are the most genetically ideal and have the most natural aptitude with the Force, and things get worse down from there due to greater outbreeding or straight up being an inferior species. While it is true that Force sensitivity tends to run in families, there are also plenty of bloodlines that have picked up rare diseases through inbreeding (this is a substantial part of why genetic engineering technology is so advanced in the Empire), as well as far more examples of aliens with astonishing Force ability than the powers-that-be are comfortable with.

Pravin's from a postwar human family, probably originating in the Outer Rim; their story is essentially an Imperial version of the American dream--they immigrated to Dromund Kaas and came up from service work, taking advantage of all that free public education to break into the upper echelons of industry. Pravin's great-grandfather co-founded a defense contracting company; most of his immediate relatives either work in that, the military, or some branch of the civil service. His name carries a certain amount of recognition--they don't really have branded products, but the average Imperial citizen's aware of it the way one might be aware of, say, General Dynamics or Northrop Grumman--and it certainly gave him access to elite spaces below the Force-sensitive glass ceiling, albeit not without some nominal snobbery from the "old money" folks from time to time. (I highkey have a headcanon that he went to boarding school with Quinn, child of a venerable old prewar military lineage, and that Quinn's Downton Abbey-esque relatives definitely talked some shit about Those Winscliff Upstarts who are only three generations removed from poverty. Like you do.)

I'll note too that Pravin's looks alone don't carry any real class character to Kaasian eyes. People note traits common to particular family lines in a "this person looks like their parent" sort of way, but there's such diversity among human immigrants that species means far more than skin tone or hair texture in their racial calculus. (Interestingly, Pravin does have a verrrry small amount of sith ancestry in his genes--like 5%--but it's not enough to alter his looks beyond a human baseline, and is frankly common among any human family that's spent more than a few generations marrying in Imperial space.)

😊 what are your oc’s career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

He wanted to be an actor once, in a different life. It's a 'what if' that haunts him sometimes, when he's shaking off the nightmares and struggling with the pain of withdrawal--what if he'd been brave enough to defy his parents and follow that dream? What if his greatest worries had been confined to auditions and performances, if he'd never set foot on Hutta or Jadus' dreadnought, never had to fight his way out of his own head?

(Maybe the agent in his place would've activated the Eradicators. Maybe he would've been a victim himself, incinerated on Kaas. Maybe, in some horrible, cosmic way, it needed to be him in that place, at that moment.)

He chose to be an agent because it seemed thrilling and adventuresome and it was, despite everything. He's felt regrets about it, but more over what was done to him than anything he did; he stumbled here and there, but made the right choices when it mattered.

All that said, he isn't totally sure what he wants now. He's the dog who caught the car, in a way, with his freedom in hand but no clear plan on what to do with it beyond his slow revenge against the remaining members of the Cabal. Prior to the events of All the Times We've Said Goodbye, he's more or less been a spy-for-hire doing his damnedest to avoid attaching himself to any particular causes and ignoring the fact that it doesn't mean anything to him beyond the satisfaction of a job well done. The work is steady, and it pays for his ship and his drugs and his dates with one-night stands, and he should be grateful to not have to answer to any authority beyond customs officers and ATC, but…it's hollow. Despite himself, he misses the stakes of his old life, the accomplishments that saved lives, the deep trust relationships he nurtured.

Despite himself, he misses being in love.

It's hard for him to admit any of that, to even conceptualize it, but he gets around to voicing his feelings to Shara at least. He wants her, however she'll have him, and I imagine they get together despite the difficult logistics, which gives his life a bit more purpose. He ends up getting dragged slowly, somewhat kicking-and-screaming back into intelligence work too. :)

🍃 what is/was your oc’s favorite subject in school?

He liked the extracurriculars more than the classes--he was a theater kid and also did fencing, getting good enough to actually win some regional competitions! (It helped that those were both very sexy endeavors that got him a lot of tail as well, lol.)

In terms of actual courses, I imagine he was always inclined towards the social sciences; he ultimately wound up with a polisci degree at university after his parents forbade him from majoring in performing arts. He finds policy stuff particularly interesting; I have a recurring headcanon that he'll often watch the Republic equivalent of C-SPAN in his downtime because he thinks senators going at it over legislation is both hilarious and fascinating--there is, after all, no equivalent to that for the Dark Council.

#ask meme #pravinquisition #pravin winscliff ii

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