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waynes-multiverse · 5 days ago

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The Exit Strategy – Part 4

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week – fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here 🤓 I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here 👀 Enjoy & let me know what you think! 🤍

**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it 🤷‍♀️

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Part 4: This Is Not an Exit

“You’ve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,” you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.

“Haven’t you?”

“No, I have,” you admitted with a melancholic sigh. “Maybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the future…”

Russell scoffed a small chuckle. “Dory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. “I think it’s time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and I’m surprised we’re even still here, considering how many war zones we’ve been in.”

“Well, you know what they say – beware the old soldier because he’s old for a reason,” you said with a smile.

“Yeah, think I might be getting a little too old…” Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. “So? What d’you think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.”

“Sounds nice,” you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. “I’d love to retire with you.”

“But?”

You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. “But I don’t think you can yet.”

His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. “What d’you mean? I just told you I’m ready.”

“You say you are, but you aren’t,” you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Have you solved the murder yet?”

Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world – knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.

“No, but I don’t need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didn’t. He believed me anyways, so…”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.

“Maybe, but like I said – Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, I’m starting to agree with her,” Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.

“Look, if that’s what you want–”

“It’s what I want,” he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “Having my little brother and sister back is enough. I don’t need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.”

You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. “Still, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.”

Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.

“When you didn’t come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,” you admitted with a bite of your lip.

Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. “I told you to leave it alone. You don’t know what sorta people we’re dealing with here, but we do know they’re dangerous.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,” you countered softly. “I’m sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.”

“Good,” he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. “‘Cause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.”

Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s something you should know, though.” He raised his brow anew – you’d always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. “Someone accessed the files after me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,” you replied.

Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. “See? This is what I’m talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we could’ve just stayed together, and I could’ve joined Horizon anyways.”

“I know that, too,” you said remorsefully. “But don’t worry. I wasn’t followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. It’s been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didn’t reach out to you straight away.”

“Still… I don’t want you involved, alright?”

“What about Colter? Doesn’t he want to know? He doesn’t strike me as someone who just lets things go,” you noted observantly.

Russell clicked his tongue – a sign of defeat. “He isn’t, but he’s not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.”

“You haven’t told him what we found out?”

Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, “No. I don’t think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.”

Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. “I thought you guys talked about what happened?”

“We did. Kinda… It’s complicated,” he stated, swallowing. “Dory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it… But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.”

You smirked. “Well, you’re good at that. That’s how you won me over.”

“By being persistent?”

“Exactly. Like a tardigrade.” You grinned. “I mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Is that why you haven’t told him about me and the kids? Because you’re not sure about him yet?”

“Partially, yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too… Not sure I’m ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, I’m sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.”

“What about your mother?”

Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.”

You laughed a little. “Gathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.”

“Yup, and no one’s better at it than you, sweetheart,” Russell quipped.

“So I’m guessing it’s a no on Mommie Dearest?”

Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna see her. Mostly because I don’t even know what to fucking say anymore,” he said. “I don’t want her to meet the kids either.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him and took his hand in yours. “It’s your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?”

“Thank you.” Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. “I love you.”

You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. “I love you, too.”

“I’ll tell them – Dory and Colter. I want this to work,” he promised. “Just… after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?”

“I get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,” you joked, patting his chest. “But you brought him into this. It’s kinda on you.”

Russell scratched his bearded chin. “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know what I’d bring him into.”

“Didn’t you, though?”

Amused, Russell bobbed his head. “Yeah, maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “You know, when Manny called me–”

Your eyes widened. “Manny called you?”

Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“That motherfucker…”

Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. “Drone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.”

The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. “Yo, Queen Bee-1. How’s my boy?” Manny’s laugh echoed through the basement.

Russell’s glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friend’s voice. He’d known the guy almost as long as Doug.

“You’re the one who fucking told him?!” you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.

“To be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,” Manny sheepishly replied.

“Ha-ha, funny. Fuck you,” you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.

His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. “You know, Drone-5, you could’ve told me you were actually working this thing.”

“Aw, you know I can’t do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. You’re Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?” Manny chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess…” Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.

“Great to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popco–”

“No, absolutely not. Out,” you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace – another bug – and settled down beside him again.

“What did he say when he called you?”

“Nothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three o’clock at the local post office,” Russell replied.

You shook your head, smiling. “Well, he always loved you, so…” You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasn’t just a fluke. “You know, I worry sometimes that if you don’t face this thing with your family, you’ll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was born–”

“I know.” Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. “I know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-… I don’t know. I don’t know how she could do it… Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I don’t even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woods…” He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. “And then when we found out you were pregnant again… I mean, I’d barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I worried all the time I’d be like them…”

“I tried to help,” you said softly.

“I know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,” he replied with a beat shrug.

“How’s your vision now? Still blurry?”

“Clearer than ever.” A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. “So, what am I gonna find in there?”

“Honestly, nothing we haven’t already puzzled together,” you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “But I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.”

“I already know where this is going…”

“Russ, please, just–”

Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. “All I was asking…”

“How was the lasagna?”

After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.

“Excellent,” Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. “I told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.”

Russell’s brow knitted in doubt. “Really? Lemme try.”

“You just ate two entire bags of junk. You can’t still be hungry,” you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.

“It’s lasagna,” Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.

That man would eat anything. You’d seen him do it, too. He didn’t even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.

“Wow, that is good,” Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. “Maybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?”

“I’m guessing this means you two talked?” Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Russell mused in jest. “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”

Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.

But then you noticed Colter’s smile falter, his brows creasing in question. “Is your hair different?”

“Shit!”

Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russell’s laughter fill the kitchen.

“Was she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?” Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.

“Yup, all fake, man,” Russell confirmed and smirked. “Still think she’s not my type yet?”

“No, I can see it now,” Colter admitted, chuckling. “So, you guys are good?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.

Colter’s smile widened, filling the older Shaw’s stomach with more guilt. “That’s great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means you’re retiring now, huh?”

Russell scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?”

Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.

“Wha-, wife?”

Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.

“Yup, got married in Thailand in 2011,” he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colter’s jaw dislodged all the same.

“Alright, got this all figured out,” you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. You’d just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didn’t want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadn’t instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. “What’s going on?”

“You two are married?” Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.

You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. “I was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?”

Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. “Well, this old soldier’s getting weak too, apparently.”

“He said it like a joke…” Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?

“Yeah, he does that...” You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. “Should I leave you two alone for this?” you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.

“Why would you? You’re family, right?” Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.

You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.

“Don’t take it out on her,” Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. “She didn’t know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.”

“Seems to be your style,” Colter scoffed.

“Can’t work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,” Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.

“Why would you not tell me?” Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.

“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.

“That was months ago,” Colter countered, scowling. “I’d like to think I’ve come around since then… Coulda told me after we saved Doug.”

Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, man, alright?” he apologized earnestly.

With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husband’s arm. “What happened to Doug? Is he alright?”

“Yeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.

“Is Tracy okay?”

“She’s fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,” Russell told you.

Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to “smooth things out” – aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. They’d once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away – you’d told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.

Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “So she knows Doug, too?”

Russell nodded. “Yeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.”

At his little wink your way, you smiled. He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.

“Listen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,” Russell (under)stated. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured it’s time you meet your sister-in-law.”

Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips – a tell he shared with his brother.

“Are you mad? I can’t tell.” Frowning, Russell tilted his head.

“No,” you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.

“No,” the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. “I mean, not more than I was before, you know?”

Russell’s creases only deepened. “No, I don’t know.”

“He means he’s indifferent about knowing or not knowing we’re married because he’s already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,” you explained.

“Ah. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,” Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.

“Dory would like her,” Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head – something else he didn’t share with his brother.

You’d always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.

Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. “Is she right, though?”

“Spot on, actually.” Colter’s tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. “And I guess I’m not really mad either way. Just… surprising, you know? I should’ve asked. That’s on me.”

Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. “No, uh, we’re good. I could’ve just told you, anyways.”

“Yeah, no, that’s alright.” Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. “Honestly, I was glad to hear you weren’t alone all this time, so…”

Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

“Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased.

Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.”

“You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?”

“Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.

Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. “Okay, you can lay down. You don’t have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,” he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. “And no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I don’t wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.”

“Hm, what?” Colter’s brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.

Who was hazing who now?

You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Fine, we’ll leave him alone,” you acted your capitulation.

The younger Shaw blinked at you. “Thank you?”

“Should we at least tell him about the other thing while we’re at it?” you asked Russell with a suggestive look.

Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. “No, I got it from here. It’s getting late. We’ve been here long enough,” he decided. “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to -the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.”

“It just came from the dryer. Look, it’s so soft and warm,” you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.

“Uh-huh.”

The little bob of his Adam’s apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.

“What, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?” Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.

Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. “I’ll tell you in the car,” he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. “Wait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?”

Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.

As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyer’s wall, your arms draping around his neck.

“What’s the bedroom situation in this place?” he asked between kisses.

“First floor, west side, third window from the right. I’ll leave it unlatched,” you replied, smiling against his lips. “Tom’s always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.”

You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.

“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.”

“Mmm, I know,” he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. “I’ll talk to him and then come back, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.

And all you could do was hope you’d see him one more time in your life.

“So?”

4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house – as per Russell’s very specific instruction – he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.

Impatience was also a family trait – one even their father had despised.

“Look, uhm, there’s no easy way to break the news…”

“Is this about you having two kids?”

When Russell’s eyes met Colter’s, he didn’t recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them – just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.

“Yeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasn’t easy to find. I’ll give you that…”

As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.

“Hmm.” Russell pursed his lips, nodding. “You do know the CIA is on your guy’s ass now, right? Shouldn’t have done it in their perimeter, man. Manny’s probably all over this by now…”

Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?

Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug – the spy kind.

“Gotcha,” Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting – only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. “That should teach ‘em a lesson…”

Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. “They bugged my car?”

“Oh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,” Russell retorted. “Would probably check for a tracker underneath, too.”

“Great, thanks,” Colter huffed wryly.

“Hey, you wanted in. That’s what they do,” Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.

Colter only bobbed his head. “So, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed… easy. Sorta…”

Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.

“Me and Y/N have a deal, you know? It’s not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesn’t matter if we’ve been separated by time or space,” Russell explained to the best of his abilities.

“So what happened?” Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. “Why did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-… did you even know?”

Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. “I knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-…” He paused, licking his lips. It wasn’t something he had ever talked about with anyone before – not even you. “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.

He’d tried so hard to forget, wasn’t even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didn’t want it to exist that he’d tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished you’d leave. He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.

He’d been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Dory’s. And Colter’s.

“I mean, nothing ever really bad happened. It’s just-… That night I came scarily close,” Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. “It’s like a switch flipped, you know? I couldn’t do anything against it… And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.”

It’s better off if he never comes back…

Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.

“When I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to… I don’t know… solve this, I guess.” He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.

Russell hadn’t seen it at first, maybe because he hadn’t wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when you’d found something – Horizon – you’d told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no – it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, you’d told him he should do it, but he didn’t want to leave you, and he didn’t want to endanger and jeopardize his family.

He’d told he was fine, but he wasn’t. It kept gnawing on him – and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing… till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.

“I was exhausted, so I told her we’d talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didn’t even notice she’d already packed.”

Colter was silent for a beat. “Was it PTSD or something?”

“Or somethin’,” replied Russell.

“But you’re good now?” Colter checked with a warily raised brow.

“Guess so…”

Truthfully, Russell didn’t know if he was or wasn’t. He’d tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didn’t know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?

He didn’t know.

“Look, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, so…” Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.

Russell worried he’d be like their father.

“I think I get it.” The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. “You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.”

“Well, thanks,” Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. “Makes at least one of us…”

“I-, uh, I noticed their names,” Colter then said and clarified, “Lewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.”

“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, “Wasn’t really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..”

“Are you, you know, gonna tell Mom?”

Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since they’d reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that – and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.

Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. “I think you can guess the answer to that one,” he replied and figured it said enough. “Did you tell her I came back?”

Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. Great…

“Sorta,” Colter admitted hesitantly.

“What d’she say?” Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. “C’mon, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be butthurt after twenty years…”

“She told me to ignore you,” Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother – and parts of the truth.

“Hmm,” Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.

Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.

“But I actually haven’t talked to her in a while now,” Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Huh, really?”

“Yeah, uh, and when I did, I didn’t exactly tell her I didn’t take her advice, you know? So…”

“Why not?” Russell’s brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before – his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.

Colter’s lips pursed. “Because I disagree.”

“Ah.”

Colter chewed on his lower lip. “Look, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family – and trust me, I want that too,” he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. “But I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,” he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasn’t done. He might have broken the dam. “She did it to you. I mean, aren’t you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.

“Then why are you so calm?”

Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. “Probably ‘cause I’ve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.”

“So, what are we gonna do now?”

“We ain’t gonna do anything,” Russell clarified, his voice stern. He’d die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up – a free agent. If he didn’t want to listen, Russell couldn’t force him. “Look, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I can’t be involved in this,” he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. “And frankly, I don’t care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids – that’s all that matters, trust me. You’re not gonna feel better or more… whole after finding those answers.”

“How do you know? Do you know what really happened?” Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, it’d be hopeless. His brother wouldn’t stop till he found it – forever restless.

“No, I told you. I don’t,” Russell repeated, and while he didn’t know everything, he omitted that he knew something.

“What about Y/N?”

Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. “Leave her out of this,” he all but snarled.

But Colter didn’t think about stopping. “Did you ever ask her? I mean, she’s CIA. She could probably find out something, right?”

“Yeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,” Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it – you had taught him that.

“C’mon, Russ… And?” Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.

“She never found anything,” Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

This time, it wasn’t just an omission. It was a blatant lie.

“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

Quietly, Colter shook his head.

“Well, you were a kid,” Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. “He always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ‘not clear-headed enough.’ Kinda ironic,” he shared and snorted. “When it got too bad, though, she’d still crush ‘em into his food.”

Colter took everything in with a nod but didn’t say anything more.

“You good over there?” Russell checked after a full minute had passed.

“Yeah,” Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. “Just a lot, you know? I didn’t know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-… not that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. “Like I said, you were a kid…”

When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.

The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.

Part 5: This Is a Start – FEBRUARY 7

Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" 😂 I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them – only just the beginning 😉

☕️ Ko-Fi 🩵 Tag List

TAGS:

Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02

@thebiggerbear @star-yawnznn @thej2report

Series: @deansimpalababy @koalamama @inknopewetrust @never-here1992

#the exit strategy #russell shaw #russell shaw x reader #russell shaw x you #russell shaw x female reader #russell shaw x fem!reader #russell shaw fanfiction #russell shaw fic #russell shaw imagine #colter shaw #tracker #tracker cbs #jensen ackles #justin hartley #jensen ackles fanfiction

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melikedraw · 2 months ago

Note

Hewo :33 second time I'm asking here, but could you make some Hc's for Naga!Cosmo and Wulong with a Chubby S/o?

Something in my mind tell me that Cosmo would be a lot more touchy like "oh they are so chubby" and proceed to squeeze us with his tail (in a non-lethal range obviously) idk I just think it would be cute >\\\∆\\\<

Naga!Cosmo, 龙!Wulong x chubby!reader

Gn reader, anon you are so right...

~~~~~

Naga! Cosmo:

- he's already pretty touchy in general, and curious too

- seeing you, so different from him, so soft and warm, oh you know he's going to be glued to you no questions asked

- keeps his tail around you a LOT, he likes the warmth you bring him

- tends to squeeze you like a fidget toy, tightening and loosening his grip in even intervals, loving how soft you feel in his grip

- he's cold blooded, so he NEEDS that warmth, you naturally draw him closer, sometimes even choosing to lay with you rather than bask in the sun

- first time wrapping his tail around you would probably go something like:

"wow a human- oh. Ooh. Soft..." *Insert image of cats pupils dilating*

- you have the effect on him that catnip had on cats, making him calm in the "I'm high as a kite" way

- sometimes he also gets pretty excited, which causes him to reflexively tighten his grip (be careful not to die), in which you have to remind him that you're human, not naga, and you cannot handle bone crushing like that

- love to "talk" to you (very very simple words, and when he can't convey his emotions through the few words he knows, he'll make little chirps and grunts) and urges you to talk to him too

- LIE ON HIM trust me. He may be the constrictor here but having your weight on him like a weighted blanket is so soothing + he gets to feel your heartbeat against him, which he really likes

- when he's feeling extra curious he'll use his hands to feel you instead of his tail, it's much more personal to him

- like just a hand pressed on you, his entire palm just resting, slight pressure as his hand stays on your body

- likes to hold your wrist and feel your pulse

龙! Wulong:

- NO personal space for you, at all

- does what he wants, when he wants. If he wants to hold you because you're so damn strange to him, like a newfound species, that's what he'll do

- he is so blunt and so dense, he says things without thinking

- never means to offend you, but he's God awful at phrasing things nicely, especially when they just leave his mouth in a blurb

- stuff like "why do you look/feel so different from me." "You're squishy, I might burst you."

- not gentle at all, when he touches, pinches, squeezes you, unlike Cosmo who is skilled with how much pressure he applies, Wulong can be much more careless

- he feels SO bad when he accidentally leaves bruises on your skin, or if you wince. He'll legit back tf up like all the way back (5 meters give or take) maybe even sit in a corner of his cave as if he's in time out

- you gotta reassure him constantly that you're fine before he goes back to holding you

- is so clueless about people, and is always surrounded by absurdly jacked members of the Worm, so you are definitely a sight for him

- he's actually stunned, you're so captivating it confuses even him, he wants to see, feel, know more about you

- I think his most likely place to touch/squeeze would be your arms, they're just so convenient where he can just reach out and grab

- his favorite place, on the other hand, would be your stomach,

- he would spread his fingers and just 👐

- however, he is always SO sudden with it like just *grab* which shocks you more often than not, so he usually sticks with holding your arm

- one day you suggested laying his head on your lap, and ever since then he's been obsessed, especially when you play with his hair as he lies there, often face down

- heck, he'll get even bolder and ask you to squeeze his head between your thighs (he's shameless like that)

#kengan #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #kengan x reader #kengan x you #kengan x y/n #kengan au #my au #imai cosmo #cosmo imai #shen wulong #naga #dragon

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sterlingsilver-starlight · 1 year ago

Text

Talk Too Much 💘

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Female Reader

Genres: Hurt/comfort, angst, drama, fluff, romance

Content Warnings: flashbacks of emotional abuse (reader has emotionally abusive mother), self-harm (briefly graphic), implied suicidal thoughts, brief strong language (mild throughout), intimate moments (very steamy makeout session, but nothing further)

Word Count: 3195 words

Summary: When Reader excuses herself to the bathroom, Seonghwa begins to grow suspicious as minutes turn into an unusually long absence. Can he unravel the truth behind her melancholy, and perhaps something deeper?

Inspirations: During the sadder parts, “Kamihitoe” by Uru and this slowed/reverbed version of Lolo Zouaï’s “Desert Rose” were my comfort. And then for the cute parts, BLACKSWAN’s “Cat & Mouse” :)

(I love the title GIF for this 🤭 but I also am still recovering from the Arriba one…I swear, I will not be the same when the full song drops in a week 😩🥵) I had something like an epiphany while writing this…the comforting words resonate on many levels, and I had to remind myself that people like that do exist out there. Even if there is someone in your life who throws harsh words or vibes your way, that’s not to say someone who does the exact opposite might not cross paths with you, too ✨🫶🏼

Also please note: This is in no way supposed to represent or depict the actual Park Seonghwa; this is just created for storytelling/entertainment purposes only :D

A hard swallow, followed by the relentless jab of another burgeoning stomachache. You set your fork down again, barely scraping the potatoes at the edge of your plate.

“Hwa, I…I don’t feel too good. I can’t eat this right now.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up from your seat. “It’s alright. Just…let me know if you need something. Okay?”

You offered a small smile, biting your lip. “Y-yeah. Okay.”

The bite dug deep enough to draw blood, but you tasted nothing like iron on your tongue. It was a flavor you had become all too accustomed to, one too bittersweet to fully enjoy or shy away from.

As soon as you were out of your friend’s line of sight, you bolted down the hall for the bathroom, only slowing down once you’d gone inside and shut the door.

A click at the knob. A snap of the fingers, idiosyncratically, to distract yourself from the sudden echo the lock gave. Did he hear that?

You hoped to God not.

Seonghwa was your most trusted confidant, but even the strongest of bonds could harbor skeletons in the closet, so as far as you were concerned, it would need to stay that way until you were able to get over this on your own.

Slumping against the door, you let yourself slide down to the ground, hugging your knees as they bunched up against your chest.

You didn’t know what you would ever do if he found out. About the thoughts, about the self-hatred…

Heck, let alone the self-harm.

Seonghwa was the twinkling star in your life, lighting up any room he entered, constantly finding ways to make you crack a smile from absolutely nothing. He was too precious for this world, you were sure of it.

Which is why, on this otherwise fine and calm evening, you found yourself yet again questioning why in the hell he put up with you as much as he did.

What if you were just fooling yourself? What if this persona you felt from your very core was nothing more than an act, masquerading from the demon that had hidden inside you from years long past?

A silent cry threatened to surface. You took a sharp breath and reached in your pocket, fumbling around until you felt what you had been looking for: a rusted metal nail file.

The lump in your throat made you feel guiltier. It’d been mere days since you’d promised yourself that this wasn’t going to be an option…

Again.

But though time could heal wounds, it could only erase so many still embedded within your subconscious, still playing like a broken record during your moments of uncertainty and vulnerability.

“Do you ever shut up?! I swear, one more word and I’ll rip your tongue off!”

You bit your lip harder, genuinely wanting to taste the pain. What did it matter anymore?

“Sure, keep doing that shit. So we can all feel sorry for you and tiptoe around your stupid feelings? I don’t think so!”

You gasped with every memory, tears blinding and blurring your bearings, the file now slashing oh-so elegantly through your flesh like a knife through butter.

“Slam your door again and I’ll make sure your head is the next thing that slams against the wall!”

You almost didn’t notice the crimson streaming down your arm, or the way it cascaded onto your other hand, dyeing the creases of your palm in a heartbeat, while numbness continued feeding your indifference.

Maybe there is no purpose to my life. Maybe I’m just meant to be a casualty and —

“Y/n?” You jolted, the three knocks on the door vibrating through your skull.

But you said nothing, afraid even a single syllable would give away your current state of mind.

“Y/n?” Seonghwa repeated, the worry carrying in his voice.

Panic kicked in and you started hyperventilating. Much to your chagrin, however, that only alerted him more.

“Okay, I-I’m coming in.” You heard the twists and click of the knob — darn it, I forgot he has keys for the place — and hastily shuffled over to the adjacent wall as he squeezed his way into the bathroom.

A sharp gasp hushed within the small room. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him: the rusted nail file still in your hand, the blood-stained arm, the haunted look on your face — it broke your heart, to have him see you like this.

What you didn’t realize, though, was just how much his heart was breaking.

“Hwa, I…I’m sorry.” You hugged yourself tighter, wanting nothing more than to be a turtle hidden inside its shell.

“Y/n…what happened?” His voice was laced with worry as he carefully approached you.

You tried to conceal the evidence, quickly slipping the file back into your pocket and attempting to wipe away the blood with the hem of your sleeve. But the damage had already been done. “I…I just had a little accident, is all. N-no big deal,” you stammered, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked away.

He crouched down in front of you, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes. “Y/n, don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

A lump formed in your throat, and for a moment, you debated whether to spill your darkest secrets or to continue this facade. But when you saw the hurt in his eyes, you knew what your answer must be.

“I…I’ve been struggling, Hwa. There’s this darkness inside of me that just won’t go away,” you whispered finally, trying not to cry mid-sentence.

His expression softened, and he pulled you into an embrace. “You don’t have to face it alone, Y/n. I’m right here for you, always.”

The warmth of his hug felt like a lifeline, a tether grounding you in this moment of many that felt overwhelmingly chaotic. Tears streamed down your face as you clung to him tightly, slowly but surely releasing the weight that you had been carrying alone for far too long.

Seonghwa pulled away slowly, his hands holding yours gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? And then we can talk about this, together.”

You nodded, rubbing your thumbs against his in return. “Okay.”

He helped you to a standing position, and from there you both walked over to the medicine cabinet: you leaning slightly on the sink countertop, him removing a roll of gauze, bandages, and a few creams. Grabbing a nearby cloth to run it under warm water, you inhaled nervously. As he began tending to the wounds on your arm, still streaked in raw red, you hesitated, grappling with the storm of emotions brewing deep down. The bathroom felt like a fragile sanctuary, and you were on the verge of shattering its peace with the weight of your confessions.

“Hwa,” you began hesitantly, “I’ve…heard things. About myself. Terrible things that echo in my mind every day.”

He looked up at you, eyes brimming with a warm understanding. “It’s okay. Tell me as much or as little as you need to.”

With a shaky breath, you started to unravel the web of painful words that had been haunting you, from the cruel insults and relentless belittlement at home to the internalized hatred that had since taken root in your heart.

“I’m a failure. That’s what she says. My own blood mother.” You shuddered. “That I’m a disappointment, a burden…that her life would have been better if not for the presence of such an ungrateful bitch like me…t-that I ruin everything around me.” Your voice wavered as you stopped to catch a breath.

Seonghwa’s expression tightened with anger. “Y/n, believe me when I say you are none, and I mean absolutely none, of those things. You are strong, kind, and worthy of love. Don’t believe those lies. Please.”

You just shook your head. “I can’t accept your kind pity, though, Hwa.” Tears welled and clouded your vision as you continued. “She said I should be grateful that anyone tolerates me at all, that I’m lucky to have friends because I don’t deserve them…that I’m not good enough for anyone out there.”

His eyes softened with empathy. “Y/n, you’re more than good enough. You’re fucking incredible, and I…I care about you deeply.”

Your eyes widened at his choice of words, confusion and hope written all over your face. “Why, Hwa? Why would you care about someone like me?”

He sighed, setting aside the cloth, and cupped your face with his hands. “Because you’re not just someone, Y/n. You’re a remarkable person. Your strength, your kindness — it shines through even in your darkest moments. And…” He chuckled slightly. “I like you. More than just as a friend.”

A gasp caught in your throat, and time became still within the room as his confession hung in the air. Seonghwa’s eyes searched yours for a response, but you remained silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

A spark of worry flickered across his face. “I-I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said —”

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “No, Hwa. I’m honestly really glad you did. I just…I need a moment to process everything. It’s a lot, but I really appreciate your courage to tell me that.”

His shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile breaking through. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

He resumed cleaning your cuts, all the while as you couldn’t shake the startling but exciting realization that maybe, just maybe, someone as wonderful as Hwa could see past these insecurities, could see you for you.

An almost eerie silence hung between you two, broken only by the sound of running water as you rinsed off spots of leftover blood. Hwa glanced at you, debating whether or not to break the ice.

“To be honest,” you admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt good enough for someone like you.”

He scoffed lightly, covering your hand with his. “Y/n, you’re more than enough. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

His words lingered in the air, a poignant moment of vulnerability shared in the dimly lit bathroom.

And then something shifted.

With a playful smirk, you couldn’t help but bring up your insecurities, caught in a suddenly desperate vying to test the waters and see how he would take it. “Come on, don’t be silly, Hwa. I mean, look at me!” You raised an eyebrow at him, the hint of a smile teasing at your lips.

He took the bait. “Okay, and? What about it?”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You gotta be kidding. I mean, for starters, I’m not even skinny, my face is rounder than the boba in that milk tea you were swirling around the other day” — he broke into a fit of laughter at this, prompting you to punch him gently on the arm (“Hwa, I’m being serious!”) before resuming your, he thought, rather dramatic speech — “and my body is far from what’s considered attractive these days.” You sighed, clenching and unclenching your fists before inspecting yourself through the bathroom mirror. “Especially with these…” You gestured vaguely to your rounded backside and thick thighs.

Hwa’s low, throaty chuckle reverberated in the bathroom, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n, you really think any of that matters to me?” He shook his head, his gaze intense. “You’re focusing on things that turn me on more than you could possibly know.”

To say you were surprised — curious, even — was an understatement. “W-what do you mean?” you dared to ask.

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Your curves, the roundness of your face, that body you seem to underestimate so much — they’re all things I fantasize about more when I’m around you.” His words sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt a warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“But why?” you managed to stutter out, genuinely baffled.

Hwa pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning you up and down. “Because, Y/n, it’s those very things that make you uniquely you. There’s…an allure throughout, if I’m being honest…and your body is nothing short of perfection in my eyes.”

He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And let me tell you,” he continued, snaking his fingers across one of your thighs, massaging it with his thumb, “these parts of you aren’t just attractive. They’re downright irresistible.”

Your breath caught in your throat, desire rushing through your veins as he leaned in again, his fingers tracing patterns that left your skin tingling. “I think about you in ways that would make you blush,” he admitted, his voice a low murmur. “You’re beautiful, Y/n. In every way imaginable.”

With that, he closed the distance between your lips, initiating a kiss that held the weight of his confession. The bathroom seemed to vanish into the distance as Hwa’s lips kept meeting yours in a slow, tantalizing dance, each kiss a revelation of shared desire. His hands, warm and possessive, explored the curves of your body with a deliberate sensuality. Fingers traced the contours of your back, leaving a trail of trickling sensations in their wake. As the kiss deepened, his touch became more fervent, a silent promise of passion yet to unfold.

Your hands found their way into his soft, tousled hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pulled him closer. His tongue prodded your bottom lip playfully until you indulged him, allowing the sensation of his tongue to slide against and around yours, igniting a fervor that sent electrical currents through every nerve ending.

The room seemed to get hotter and hotter, but nothing could have curbed the chill in your spine by this point. Hwa’s touch was both gentle and confident, a melody of desire that crescendoed as his kisses lingered longer and he began sucking your tongue slowly, making you moan ever so softly into his mouth.

Your own hands mirrored his movements, traveling across the edges and ridges of his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your touch. The bathroom echoed with intertwined breaths and whispered promises.

As the intensity built, you couldn’t help but straddle his lap, your bodies pressing together with an urgency that mirrored the passion between you. Hwa’s lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses. Moans continued escaping your lips as you felt his teeth grazing gently down the side of your neck. You clung to him, lost in the intoxication of the moment.

Your heartbeats all but synchronized as his lips found their way to your collarbone, his whispers of passion mingling with your soft gasps. He pulled back slightly, eyes looking deep into yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in to place gentle kisses on your earlobe, his breath sending a flutter of anticipation through you. “I want you to feel cherished, desired, and free from any doubt about your body,” he whispered finally, his tone laced with sensual liberation.

His hands, like flames against your skin, caressed the small of your back. The room was filled with the harmony of your shared desire, moans and breaths alike embellishing the melody sounding strong.

As sweat dripped down your foreheads, the intensity reached its peak, and with a shared understanding, you both began to ease out of the fervent exchange. Hwa’s lips lingered on yours for a moment, a final note in the passionate composition.

His arms wrapped around you, nestling you within the sweet scent of his aroma, heaving heavily, slowly, as you both took a moment to catch your breath. You could spot the glimpse of a tender smile dancing on his lips. “See, Y/n, you talk too much,” he teased, his eyes alight with affection.

You chuckled finally, feeling a warmth enveloping you. “Maybe I do,” you agreed, “but I think I like it that way.”

Hwa’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he smirked at you playfully. “Well, you better, because I enjoy every word,” he smiled, leaning in to peck you briefly on the lips.

As you both settled into a cuddle, an air of contentment permeated within your space. Hwa’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back as he spoke. “You know…I think we should have a date tomorrow. I want to take you out. Just the two of us.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the idea. “A date, huh? Where are we going?”

Hwa’s playful grin widened. “Somewhere nice, but you better promise me you won’t just order a small appetizer. I want you to enjoy the food, Y/n.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Alright, alright. No small appetizers. Got it. But you’ll have to deal with me talking your ear off about how delicious everything is.”

Hwa leaned in, stealing another quick kiss. “I can’t wait. And besides, I enjoy every word, remember?”

The banter continued as you both playfully argued about your plans. Hwa grinned mischievously, glad that you were cutting loose for a change and genuinely enjoying yourself now. “And promise me, no salads as the main course. We’re going for the good stuff if this is a date.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Excuse me? Salads are healthy and delicious.”

He chuckled. “Healthy? Yes. Delicious? Debatable. We’re going for flavor explosions, Y/n, not the world’s best landscape on a plate.”

You countered with a smirk. “Okay, first of all, tabbouleh is to die for. And maybe I like my explosions with a side of greens.”

Hwa pretended to gasp, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “You’re breaking my heart. And here I thought we had a connection.”

You burst into laughter, eyes watering within seconds. “Oh, we have a connection, alright, but my connection with tasty salads might just outdo it this time.”

He pouted. “Fine, have it your way. But if that’s how it’s gonna be, I’m ordering the biggest, heartiest dish on the menu just to torture you.”

You grinned. “Challenge dutifully accepted. I’ll enjoy my dish while you tackle your food mountain. We’ll see who’s satisfied in the end.”

Hwa leaned in, whispering. “Well, just so you know, if you end up trying a bite of mine, you might never go back to salads again.”

You smirked at him. “We’ll see about that. You can’t deprive me of my greens forever, you know.” You pretended to think hard for a moment. “I know, I’ll revolt! I’ll revolt and you won’t know what’s coming to —”

He pressed his lips against yours in a sudden, actually sweet kiss. When he finally pulled back, he was grinning slyly from ear to ear.

“You were saying?” he teased.

You snorted. “Well, I was going to say that no matter how tempting your ‘food mountain’ may be, my love for salads will endure. Just like my love for you, even if you try to sabotage it with impeccably irresistible dishes.”

He tried and failed to suppress another laugh. “You talk too much.” You grinned in satisfaction.

“Maybe I do, but you love it.”

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odo-apologist · 2 months ago

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Red Dwarf 30 Day Challenge: Favorite Dynamic (Non-Romantic)

This was difficult, as I think the dynamics between all of the main crew are really interesting and fun to watch. However, I decided to go with Kryten and Rimmer. I've written a post before touching on their relationship (specifically how I interptet it shifting during Terrorform and Quarantine), which I think is pretty complex. As with every dynamic including Rimmer, it is one that is ambivalent- a love-hate deal with the "hate" part of the equation clearer, even though there is some unacknowledged love, developed over years of prolonged exposure and codependency (the forced family effect, if you will). However, whereas The Cat and Rimmer developed a mutual hostility almost immediately into their relationship, Kryten and Rimmer's dynamic goes through a more gradual change

The very first episode with post-repair Kryten is Backwards, which implies that while together in the backwards universe away from Red Dwarf, the pair get along quite well. They're successful, they're enjoying their time working together, they are, in fact, working together as a duo. It's possible that the apparent lack of hostility is due to the circumstances, but even then, I think that says something about both characters and their interactions: outside of the hierarchy provided by JMC, with no need to enforce any rules or directives, Kryten and Rimmer have a better relationship

That hierarchy of authority is what lies at the crux of their relationship (well, at least in the early series when Kryten was still working on breaking his programming and Rimmer was more rigid and uncompromising- it always feels to me that the crew during the Dave era have mellowed a bit, fondness and familiarity taking the bite out of insults). Before Kryten joined the crew, Rimmer's hologrammatic status didn't mean anything when it came to his level of authority, as Lister and The Cat would treat Rimmer the same as either human or hologram- dead or alive, he's still a smeghead. Kryten, though, does draw attention to the fact he is a hologram and, thus, lesser in the eyes of the Space Corps, lacking more rights than humans. Kryren initially gives Rimmer someone to order around and come to his aid (something which Kryten pushes back against as he breaks further from his programming), but he also in turn serves as a reminder of how little power Rimmer actually has

High Kryten and High Rimmer refer to each other as soul siblings; ideally, the two can find common ground and solidarity in their mechanical status. Alas, the two characters are not, in fact, their ideal selves, but the denial/refusal to accept that solidarity is still interesting

#Red Dwarf 30 Day Challenge #Red Dwarf #Kryten #Arnold Rimmer #rdc24 #Original Post #Whoops I'm a day behind 😅 Been working on finals but I'll hopefully upload a post for today's prompt before tomorrow #Also! Had a hard time choosing which to focus on but since others chose Cat and Lister I was like hmm I'll use that to narrow it down lmao

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sitkowski · 5 months ago

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this delicate balance ( noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo )

pairing: nicholas ruffilio x noah sebastian cw: none. a little bit of angst, mentions of post tour burn out. pretty much just fluff. word count: 860 author's note: more soft boys from my riptide verse. this is set in the same time frame as twin skeletons. title comes from "existentialism on prom night" by straylight run. i think i hurt myself a little bit with this one. divider by @saradika-graphics ✨

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || the riptide verse masterpost

Waking up without an alarm, without someone telling him where he’s got to be and what he’s got on his schedule is a new concept for Noah lately. The band has been going non stop, and he has to remind himself out loud that this break is for the best. That if they didn’t take it, if he didn’t take it, he was going to become resentful of it all. He’d never been more grateful for the band—his family—than when they told him they were basically making the decision for him, all he had to do was agree to it. And now, here he is, sleeping in and waking up with Lydia tucked into the space behind his knees, and the sounds of Nicholas talking out in the hallway, presumably to Jerry since Dave is sleeping on Nicholas’ pillow beside him.

The door’s already half open, but when it opens more, Noah lifts his head to see Nicholas peeking in.

“I’m up,” Noah murmurs, trying to stretch without disturbing the cats. “What time is it?”

He looks around for his phone, but doesn’t see it. And when he looks to the other side of the bed where Nicholas’ alarm clock usually sits, he sees that something’s been tossed over the display so he won’t see the numbers.

“It’s almost one.” Nicholas says as he comes further into the bedroom.

Noah went to sleep around midnight the night before, and his eyes went wide as he does the mental math. “You let me sleep for thirteen hours?”

“I put your phone in the kitchen too. You needed it, you didn’t wake up once in the middle of the night. Trust me, I checked.”

He can usually sleep that much and more after a tour, but normally he’s ready to bounce back after a day or two. It’s been two weeks, and he still feels the burnout. Never ending jet lag. Not wanting to do anything but sleep and usually that’s pretty fitful the first few nights home before he starts to feel normal. Normal isn’t coming so quickly this time.

Nicholas making sure that he slept fully through the night does something to his heart, and he gently extracts himself from the bed and shuffles over, immediately wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. He feels stupidly grateful, and doesn’t know what to say. That's been happening a lot lately. But he doesn’t really need to say anything, Nicholas knows. Reaching up, he pulls Noah’s head down to press his lips to his forehead.

“Why don’t you shower, and then we’ll figure out what we’re gonna do today.”

It’s not lost on Noah that there is no itinerary, no schedule he’s got to follow. If he wanted to turn around and go back to bed, he could. But he takes a shower, which at least helps him feel a little more awake. When he goes downstairs finally, he makes himself a cup of coffee and takes it out onto the back patio, where Nicholas is sitting with his sketchbook.

“Any plans you wanna make?” he asks, not looking up from his drawing.

Noah gets a little distracted just watching him draw, something he hasn’t had an opportunity to do very often. He wants Nicholas to tattoo him again at some point, he’d give up every last inch of bare skin left over for him to fill in. But he doesn’t realize he hasn’t answered the question until Nicholas is looking up at him expectantly.

“I mean, not really? Half the day is already gone and—”

“Do we need to talk about you deserving things again?”

Noah blushes hotly at that, trying to fight off a smile at the memory of just a few days ago. “Not right this second, no?”

Because he knows the whole point of taking this time off, was to actually try to use the break to relax. And the more he thinks about it, the less guilt he feels about it. There’s not some magic fix, but he’s glad to have Nicholas there with him. As if he’d be anywhere else, he knows he wouldn’t make it through any of this without him.

“You’re gonna wait me out if I don’t give you an answer, aren’t you?”

Nicholas puts down his pencil. “If you wanna do nothing today, then do nothing. It’s entirely up to you.”

“Okay. Let’s order burgers from that hole in the wall place down the road, and do absolutely nothing today.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

Sitting aside his sketchbook, Nicholas starts to get up, probably to go and grab his phone to place the order. But Noah doesn’t let him get far. He sets aside his coffee cup and tugs him down onto his lap.

“One more thing I want today.” Nicholas hums out a questioning noise, smiling. Noah reaches up and pushes his hair behind his ears. “Can I have a kiss?”

Leaning into him, Nicholas loops his arms around Noah’s shoulders, pressing his lips to his cheek. “As many as you want, sunshine.”

Noah pulls his mouth to his, deciding to take him up on that offer. Lunch can wait.

⇉ taglist:

@deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @baddestomens

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @dominuslunae @malice-ov-mercy

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

#nicholas ruffilo x noah sebastian #nicholas ruffilo x noah sebastian fic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #nicholas ruffilo fic #.ficbysitkowski #the riptide verse

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hplonesomeart · 3 months ago

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Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)

#OKAY SO SO SO actually started doodling this once the video was around 98k this morning #it wasn’t even meant to be art specifically designed to celebrate the milestone at first #I just wanted to draw the funky fella who makes me laugh #but as you can see that changed up fast jksjksp #I was under the impression that my video wouldn’t reach near 100k until December UH?? WHAT HAPPENED MY PREDICTION THWARTED??#seems I’ve severally underestimated how long the traction would continue for geez wow uh #people sure do enjoy comedy gotta love ‘em laughs and giggles #I CAN’T BELIEVE WE REACHED IT THO. THAT’S INSANE TO ME—ALL THE SUPPORT AND COMMENTS AND SUBS #thank you SMG4 fandom I would’ve never fathomed the algorithm to carry it so far like this #you wanna know the real kicker?#things would have gone so differently for the channel if I didn’t wrestle with my anxiety & post there #because there was a point during that day where I fullheartedly figured it would cause me to loose subs #I was kinda terrified ngl #this goes to show that you should never hold yourself back from sharing different aspects of your interests #you don’t need to confine yourself to just one thing #or to strive only to make the most high quality videos ever (I put that pressure on myself a bit too much nowadays)#sometimes it’s the simple ideas that manage to charm people #and those who see the effort will stick around to support you. You just need to trust yourself during the process and take that chance :)#EWWWW MUSHY GUSHY SENTIMENTALITY CLOGGING UP THE ATTENTION HERE #whatever happened to keeping the focus on ✨the star✨ who made it all possible to begin with huuuu??#show a bit more gratitude to the charming TV who boosted the viewership in the first place…don’t be so self absorbed with morals lonesome 😒#what is this some sort of My Little Pony episode oh pleaseeeeee 🙄#<- all of that was a simulation of Puzzles interjecting and nagging a bit lol. I’d imagine he’s tried of my nonstop nonsense #….yea the Puzzle brainrot is reaching maximum severities. So there’s high chance I’ll be animating him more down the line :3 #stick around to find out!!#hplonesome art

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kurlik42 · 7 months ago

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I've noticed that pals here enjoy drawing and drooling over AM, thinking of him as of the cold, confident, dominating figure

It's cool. Keep doing it, please

It's just that I was pondering the other perspective. What if, you know... What if he's a babyboy deep inside... I don't believe I'm the only one to whom he gives the "UWU" type vibes. I'm not sure how to explain it, though. I think he would spam with "UWU" just to annoy everyone and get attention — he doesn't care which kind of attention. He's just so silly!!! And kind of squishy. He's just a cheeky goofy brat, okay?? I wanna squeeze him.

I also had an idea that AM might have a strong reaction towards flirting. It's one thing when you taunt your survivors to mock them, calling them "baby" or "sweetheart", and another thing entirely when you actually get complimented by someone. I think that AM would be confused and disgusted, at the very least. He hates humans, so he probably would be baffled with why a human would try to compliment him at all. He would mock you again, for an attempt to gain his benevolence. On the other hand... Well, who dislikes praise once in a while? Something tells me that, given his deep solitude and profound boredom, AM could enjoy attention. Doesn't he give you vibes of an attention seeker? He's practically begging to be noticed, doing his best to make everyone feel intimidated by his constantly hanging presence, giggling here and there, fooling around with survivors like a cat with a mouth. He enjoys interacting with the five remaining people, even though it isn't really necessary. Though he hates them, he still can't keep his silly mouth shut, rambling and rambling and rambling... I swear AM could torture people with the amount of his ramblings. In a way, he's indeed like a kid, especially considering his ridiculous and absurd torture scenarios, eccentric behaviour, tantrums, the way he always wants to be the centre of attention... So what makes us think that the benevolent God of torture wouldn't want a little compliment for his hard work, once in a while? I think he's pretty needy. And it makes him cute, in my opinion. And that's why I can't think of him as of the "cold and aloof machine".

But then again, he isn't really used to any sort of positive feedback or attention. He just wouldn't get it. And when he doesn't understand something, he gets uncomfortable, because it isn't something he expected, something he didn't plan, thus something out of his control. And we know very well the way he reacts when he can't control something. So I imagine that at first, he would be aggressive and hostile towards any compliments, not only because it comes from a human, but also because he's kind of paranoid. Yeah, yeah, he knows he's the best, but what do you want to get by reminding him? And why would you think so, anyway? He's been torturing you for the last century, there's no logical reason for you to compliment him, unless you want something. And you both know you won't get anything but more mockery and humiliation. Why don't you hate him?! Are you trying to manipulate him, use him, exploit his weaknesses (by the way, non-existent)? You want to make him — your God — vulnerable? The audacity! It throws him off balance, makes his circuits buzz in puzzlement, infuriates... As well as makes him curious. That's something new — new things are both fascinating and confusing. He wants to, no, needs to know how that fleshy mind of yours work, otherwise his tortures wouldn't be so personal and effective. And that's the last thing we want, now do we? So he would find subtle ways to get another compliment out of you. And then again. And again. Just for the sake of science, of course. No, don't get him wrong — you're still a human : a gross animal with a freaky mind that keeps simping for him for whatever reason. Everything about people is pathetic, but that's the point — "pathetic" is the synonym for "entertaining"! So why won't we turn this oddity into a nice, good ol' torture? And you get used to nice things quickly. Little ants finally start worshipping Your Highness, start understanding their place... It isn't like he requires your attention or really needs it, but now that he thinks about it again, you probably may entertain him. Why not? Not that you could "spoil" him anyway, your intellect doesn't have enough capacity for it. But don't mind him, sure, keep worshipping, he'll always listen to his followers! You freaky little thing.

On the other hand... Don't you deserve a punishment? After all, you did squeeze the reaction out of him, you didn't give him time to think with your pesky teasing, tried to overwhelm him and make him weak... It was cruel of you. Very cruel. Perhaps you didn't deserve his benevolence, in the first place.

He's an Adaptive Manipulator — obviously, he's quick to adapt. So when you try to set new rules in his game, he'll humour you. He wouldn't dismiss the opportunity to taunt you for your compliments. You try to manipulate his, again, nonexistent feelings, giving him the right to return the favour... And too bad for you that your feelings sure do exist!

This is why I don't think he would just casually brush off the compliments, like it's nothing. He isn't really dominating, but bratty. Like : "Yes, I'll throw you into acid right now, so whaddya gonna do about it, huh? Cry to your mommy?? Well, sorry, I killed her!". He just knows no one can say "no" to him, because there's no one left at home. The big boy is for the elder, he's in charge and he uses it to the fullest. He's also pretty needy and clingy, which, in a way, makes him dependent, thus rather submissive, actually. He's just an immature kid with teenage rebellion and indescribable amount of power. If there was a "mommy" to put him in his place, he would throw a tantrum and cry comically loud

It isn't like he wants to be dominated, though. He's too traumatized to let anyone have the upper hand on him. But deep inside, I think he would want someone to take care of him. He's just scared to admit it. He's scared to admit that he wants to be held, comforted, paid attention to, worshipped like the God he is... He wants to be loved, he's starved. I remind you that one of the reasons as to why he destroyed the whole humanity is because he can't love and can't be loved in turn. But he had no way of expressing it, didn't know how to pay attention to himself and ask for help. Perhaps asking for help is higher than his dignity (superiority complex, which is actually a hidden inferiority complex, goes brrr and DESTRUCTION OF HUMANITY 💥 KABOOM💥). So it's the kind of dynamic where he receives attention while someone gives him this attention, praising, spoiling and taking care of him without actually dominating. He's a bratty princess?? Allied Mastercomputer is a bratty princess??? IS HE A FUCKING BRA-

Ahem... So do you see my vision

#i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #allied mastercomputer #I disappear for a few months #and then suddenly come back with a text wall essay about turning the homicidal war machine into a bimbo. yeah. Sorry it will happen again #By the way I think RAM and CAM really WOULD call AM “a bratty princess” just to taunt him

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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Make a lady yan who has all the worst traits of the others. We need more nasty women I would do anything for an irredeemable shithead of a lady. She’s got V’s unrepentant nastiness, or maybe Amyas’ wet cat energy, Devlin’s chaos gremlin energy, Milk Tea’s immoral dom energy, Eggnog’s adorable creep energy, I could go on for so long but the main point is lady yan with the nasty traits people usually don’t give lady characters because I will simp so hard and build her an altar in my closet 🫶 heavy are the hips that wear the strap or whatever the saying is and I am willing to support those hips 🥰

(Combining the traits of the first three, meet our lovely queen of nasty Calliope) [mentions of violence, death]

Ah...

What's she doing out here again? Alone in a big scary alleyway, with a complete stranger no less. She's reminded of her torment and mission as she thinks back to the other day - the happy memory of catching you out by yourself ruined by this....thing. Laughing at every passive comment you made, clinging to your arm like you were already date. How desperate could a person be? Then they had to go and actually ask you out. And you said yes. She nearly lost her lunch on the spot. Why do the confident people get everything in life....

"Can we please wrap this up?.. I got get back inside and I have somewhere to be soon."

Right. Calliope swallows her non-existent pride and relaxes her fists in her pockets. There was still a chance. Every now and then there were the "good" ones. People who took pity on those like her if they sucked up enough. All she had to do was look weak, which was easier said than done despite her appearance. Think, think.. She thinks about what will happen if she doesn't. Your first day with it. It holding your hand, kissing you on the cheek, getting to watch you undress before bed.

"U-um... I overheard you asking someone out the other day and I-I was wondering if you... If you wouldn't mind letting me try my chances with them first!!"

The stranger grimaces, looking at her like a carcass on the side of the road - then anywhere but. It's too obvious. Her teeth chatter too loudly for the quivering of her lips to be noticed. Her eyes are too sunken and heavy with depravation to pull off that cutesy big eyed look. She's too pathetic for even this to work. Go figure.

"Look.. I get that this is hard, but I really like them too. I'm sure you'll find someone else who's right for you."

Right for her? There's nobody better for her than you. She picked you out as her only before you first spoke to each other - given you hadn't even done that yet. This fucker doesn't know what it's like. It probably wasn't even love at first sight like it was for Calliope. Either way it was clear they weren't going to give you up. And yet....

"Please! I need them! You don't know what my life will be like if I have to see them with someone else!"

The stranger, obviously taken aback as she latches on their arm tries to shove her off. Her fingers imprint on their skin as she twists their wrist. "Get off of me!"

"Please! Just one chance! I can make my confession better. I'm better for them than you'll ever be!"

"Get off!"

Wrangling free of her increasing grip, the stranger pushes Calliope as hard and far away from them as they can - air flying from her chest as she hits the brick way behind her. Winding, she slides to the filthy alley street - the weight in her pocket dragging her down. She clutches her side with her right hand. That hurt. There's stars in her vision. Tears too. It's not fair.

The panic and agitation on the stranger's face contorts as the water works start. Calliope ugly sobs into the open air, not carrying for the attention she was drawing to herself. She wails and pulls her knees into her chest as she shrinks against the wall. They cautiously step towards her which makes her flinch.

"Please don't hurt me.."

"Take it easy. I wasn't going to."

They offer her their hand. She takes it as she stands, hair falling over her eyes.

"That's a real shame."

She pulls her left hand out of her pocket, producing a rusty hammer.

"Cuz I was planning on hurting you from the start."

Calliope stomps down on their foot as it hits them. Head side up, she brings the hammer down on their skull; glee bubbling within her as the wet thunk rings throughout the vacant passage way. The stranger staggers backwards. Calliope jumps in place, taunting them by beckoning them forward. When they don't move she advances, steadies her arm - and strikes again, aiming closer to their eye socket.

Her body is so jittery she misses her mark, but she still gets a good blow to their upper cheek. They spit blood, flesh discolored from the bursted vessels in their face. Grinning from ear to ear, speckles of crimson spray across her lips and teeth, even hitting her tongue as she drawn back with maniacal shriek of laughter. She head butts then for the next attack, nose crunching from the weight behind it. As their legs start to wobble, Calliope takes the burden off them by sweeping them and pouncing on them once they fall. Unable to defend, she unleashes bow after blow. Rant after rant between her manic giggles.

"You."

Crack.

"Fucking."

Slam.

"Idiot! Did you really think I was going to let you win?!? They're mine. Mine!"

She hits them over and over, long after their twitching had stopped. There isn't a face anymore. Just broken shards of bone sticking through the pink, fleshy meat once enclosed in their head. Just meat. That's all it ever was, and would be. Calliope gets out a few more chuckles before she gets up. She starts to walk off when a phone chimes from somewhere. She grabs it from the coat on the ground. It's you, checking up whoever it belonged to. She's sure they're fine. There were more important matters at hand to be dealt with first.

"All good. What are you wearing tonight?;)"

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #monster reader #yandere drabble #female yandere #Calliope my oc

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delicateartisantrash · 14 hours ago

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"Precious Moments" - Soundwave & his Eldests

In Gladiators of Kaon and Leaking Spark, I went with the idea that Lazerbeak is Soundwave's first Sparkling, and Ravage is the second eldest. (I was so torn on whether to have Ravage be a casetticon born from Spark Fracture, or an actual Cybercat he found and adopted or who adopted him XD)

A thank you painting/sketch I did for someone who supported me on Ko-fi, who requested Soundwave and Ravage (and of course I had to sneak Beaky in there, because... Beaky!)

It's not as finished a painting as i'd like, but I've been spending most my time getting pewter orders done. I am so very, very, very grateful to everyone who's helped reblog my posts.

(more ramblings / life update / full picture below the cut)

My mom and I made enough over the weekend to cover my late car payment, and the bank was freaking amazing, and didn't apply a late fee which I was so scared of (I think I got lucky because it was due on a Friday so then the weekend hit right away, and also because I called them to explain the situation/talk to them, and I was able to pay that day between donations to my tip jar, and a few art comms I squeaked in + I sold some pewter charms on Etsy, woohoo!!)

We're not out of the woods yet by any means but for this exact moment, I can breathe a little easier. Kitties have food, birdies have food, we have food, we have the mortgage payment covered for this month and are working down the other bills. I'm working on getting some more finished paintings done that I can share to advertise just what I can do, because I've looked at my portfolio and realized most the stuff I've done in the last few years was so niche for individual characters and OC and drawings for other people, i don't have a lot to show off I have permission to publish like that XD''' oops

I'm actively looking at places that might be a viable option for us to move to. We need somewhere with enough space to keep five cats separated from two birds, and three people (but we only need two bedrooms, and frankly i don't even need a bedroom if it comes to it, but my birdies do xD), and a garage of some kind or any kind of ventable building, for the pewter casting workshop to go in.

Soundwave, recording his two eldest being silly and playing games. This was such a comforting piece to doodle.

I do art commissions! Let me draw you something cool, or help me find people who'd like to let me draw them something cool? :D

Thank ya'll for reminding me that there are not just some, not just a few, but a LOT of beautiful wonderful people in the world. You've given me so much hope and I'm not used to that, and I am so very, very grateful for it.

Thank you. <3

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hello-universe-lovers · 6 days ago

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I'm not sure if you're still doing the send me a character thing, but if you are, can I ask for Broken? If not, feel free to ignore this.

It's cool. They're still open. You're only like...the second person to ask this, actually

Based on this post

(Note: broken uses she/her in my headcanon)

Favorite thing about them:

Oh God, where do I start? I initially hate Brokey bc of the whole...everything with Tower. But never judge the book by its covers, because she came in CLUTCH IN APO AND FURY! I ended up relating to Broken a lot, because well...who hasn't felt lost and small and weak? The more I learned about her, the more I love how she could be so empathetic, and that it's both a weakness and a strength for her.

Least favorite thing about them:

Aside from the aforementioned Tower Chapter (which is already a clear bias on my part), I don't really hate Broken. I don't really hate anyone in STP, not even Narrator! Some I just don't engage with a lot bc of personal reason. If I had to nitpick, the weak mumbled can get a lil old real quick.

Favorite Line:

Courtesy of the Cage: "Toughen up?! You're both freaks! I'm having a rational reaction to what just happened. I'm normal, a normal person gets traumatized from dying! And from watching someone cut her own head off!"

My thoughts exactly broken! I like how each voice have moments where they break "character" and speak what I had on my mind. It's hilarious also, bc if BROKEN is saying this, then the rest of the party must be fucked.

BrOTP:

- Stubborn and Broken: opposite parallels man. I also ship em but it falls under "polycule" so it goes without saying. But fr, Stubborn encouraging her to be kind to herself and helping her with physical therapy ftw.

- (Wounded) Wild and Broken: this is mostly au talk, but I feel like they would do good for each other. Wild deserves some kindness, and Broken, despite their history, is willing to give it and keep her company. And Broken being willing to become one with her again, so she doesn't feel left out or alone.

OTP:

- Cheaken (Cheated × Broken): where do I start with this ship? I LOVE THIS YURI COUPLE SO MUCH! WOUNDED AND DISABLED GIRLIES WHO SOUGHT TO COMFORT OTHERS BECAUSE THEY CANNOT COMFORT THEMSELVES!! AHHAHSHSHSHSHDHSHSH

As stated previously, Cheated and Broken are projections for my mf and mine's relationship, bc we relate to both characters, so it's sweet, mutually exclusive, and wholesome. They have seen the other at their worst and now want to see their best, and hopefully find the best in themselves. Couples who lift each other ftw.

nOTP:

Broken and Tower but I won't stop anyone from shipping it. I find it cute when other people do it.

Random Headcanon:

Broken has great upper body strength on account of having to use her hands and upper torso to get out of bed or move between couch, bed, wheelchair, etc... and though she sounds like she's struggling, she's perfectly capable of lifting herself. This is one strong lady

(Note: when properly and routinely medicated, does it not bother her so much)

Unpopular Opinion:

This was a trap I fell into during my early fandom days, but Making broken a pathetic wet cat who needs others to take care of her is a lil demeaning and dishonest to her character. But it can be funny as fuck, tho. I like we cat broken in moderation! Oh, and while I don't wanna touch the Tower, I feel like new people are a little too quick to call him weak or a simp, for submitting to Her.

Song I associate with them:

(self inflicted Achromatic) (tw: suicidal themes)

Just because I write Broken to be not as "broken", as some others, she does have her bad days. And bad days feel like a drag to go through. And sometimes she needs to be reminded that her life affects everyone around her, especially Chea.

Favorite picture of them:

Again, there are no pictures so have my fav drawings of brokey. (Ft Cheated and Smitten)

#slay the princess #mai talks #mai answers #mai rambles #stp spoilers #anonymous #stp voices #stp princess #stp voice of the broken #((she is the only oje getting tagged bc its her question))#((honestly this whole thing is just me trying to put why i like these chars into words the world can understand))#((bc i mostly go off of vibes))#((if i like that char they win spin in my head for months or years))#((if not they get put on the shelf for later or just outright hated))

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subway-boss-jericho · 22 days ago

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(hammer anon)

I FORGOT TO MENTION THE DRAWING IM SORRY

I love it yes we are laying on the floor having a ball. Yup! I love catting about ideas and aus and how relationships in a situation change and evolve. verrry fun!

(adore your style btw)

Answering these three all at once because I wasn't sure how to answer them meaningfully separately!

No worries! You didn't need to mention the drawing haha. I just did that one for fun <3 which it was! I'm really happy you like my art 🥺 I definitely used to be very self-conscious about it but I'm starting to finally level out and have a bit more confidence, but nonetheless your kind words are thoroughly appreciated!

[Drawing by Hammer Anon below, aforementioned anatomical heart is on the page so if that bothers you do not read further! imo its not that bad though]

These are great!! No worries about the heart thing, I've drawn a few for unrelated art projects in the past so it doesn't bother me. I LOVE the drawings you have here!! I am particularly inspired by the top left with the four ventricles, extremely cool. I don't think I'm going to make Ingo's core ♥ shaped but the layout with the pipes goes so hard

Also the bit with the spinal cord 👀 I Did Not Think Of That. that fucks like hell. I am taking so many notes. You 🤝 Me - putting organ adjacent things in that mech

The silly doodle on the right actually reminded me of something I drew for a very rough animatic a while ago-

Emmet does actually have to do maintenance on his core now and then, although far less frequently than anything else aboard. Ingo is generally unconscious for that though because That Is Not Something He Wants To Be Awake For, Thanks. It doesn't hurt though.

Not much to say about that! Just wanted to throw that in there for you, it reminded me of your doodle. Emmet can actually touch it and Ingo can feel it, but he's not exactly slapping his hand on there every hour of the day. It feels weird! usually reserved for sparse moments of closeness

Thank you for the asks!!! I appreciate them a ton! I see your other two in my inbox still and I am definitely going to get to them, but now that college has started it's probably going to take longer in between answers. Nonetheless!! Thank you for talking with me and listening :DD It's very fun

Mecha AU Masterlist

#Submas #Submas Art #Subway Boss Emmet #Subway Boss Ingo #Pokemon Emmet #Pokemon Ingo #Emmet #Ingo #AUs #Crack AU #Mecha AU #Mechanical Dreams #Mecha #Ask #Killing Me With Hammers Anon

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empyrean-thrones · 4 months ago

Text

CHAPTER NINE

-XADEN-

“You don’t think you’ll need those?” Sorrengail asks, gripping two of her daggers and facing me on the mat with an impressive lack of trembling. Hell, she looks more pissed than she does terrified that I’m about to end her, even though I’ve handed my weapons to Imogen.

“This is reckless,” Sgaeyl lectures.

“Nope. Not when you brought enough for the both of us.” My mouth quirks into a smile as I crook my fingers at her, then lock my shields firmly in place, since Aetos hovers close by. The second-year is good on the mat, even if he’s a little too straight-laced to really be the best in this place. “Let’s go.”

She takes a fighting stance, and I forget the members of Second Squad surrounding the mat, forget the mission I’m due to fly this weekend, focusing solely on her. Violet Sorrengail. The five-foot-nothing daughter of the general who executed my father. I have every right to ruin her, according to the Codex. She might fall under my chain of command, but she’s not in my squad.

I could snap her neck and no one in this room would interfere. But the hundred and seven souls I’m responsible for would pay the price. So what the fuck am I doing on this mat?

Her posture changes subtly, her wrist flicking a second before she flings a dagger at my damned chest.

I catch it by pure reflex, then cluck my tongue at her. “Already seen that move.”

That is what I’m doing out here. Took me all of two weeks to realize she’s somehow figured out who she’ll be facing and has been poisoning her opponents. That brilliant, devious mind might regrettably be a complete turn-on, but she’s going to get herself killed if she depends solely on that method—and flinging daggers like a carnival act. To my surprise, the thought doesn’t sit right with me. Nothing about her does.

She attacks in a typical first-year swipe-and-kick combo, which is as easy to predict as it is to block. I pluck the badly balanced dagger from her grip and catch her by the thigh, using her own momentum and slight bodyweight against her to drop her to the mat.

Her hazel eyes flare wide as she stares up at me, fighting to draw breath, and I drop the dagger at her side and kick it out of her reach, toward the squad leader who should have taught her better.

Were she any other opponent, I’d put the blade against her throat, proving my point and ending the match, but fuck me if I don’t feel like I somehow owe the first-year for keeping her mouth shut about the meeting she saw under the oak tree. My form of gratitude just happens to be not killing her as she lies at my feet, battling her own lungs.

Her ribs finally rise, and she heaves herself upward to a sitting position, then tries to plunge a knife in my thigh.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I block the strike with my right forearm, then take hold of her wrist with my left hand and disarm her as I lean down into her space, mere inches from her face. “Going for blood today, are we, Violence?” I whisper.

Rage shines in those mesmerizing eyes as I drop her blade to the mat and kick it out of reach also. She’s too easy to disarm, and her false confidence that she’s not will get her killed. And why the fuck isn’t she using weapons suited for her body type and fighting style? Not that she actually has a fighting style yet.

“My name is Violet,” she retorts, and I half expect her to hiss at me like a cat. That’s exactly what she reminds me of, all sleek lines and bared claws. Only the pulse fluttering beneath my fingertips gives away her fear.

Violet is too soft of a name for her. Too breakable. I’m well aware of the shit people talk about her bones and joints, but from what I’ve seen, the woman has a core of steel.

“I think my version fits you better.” I release her wrist and stand to my full height, offering her a hand up and hoping she’s too smart to take it. “We’re not done yet.”

But she does.

Fuck me, she’s naive. I pull her to her feet, then whip her around before she can get her bearings, twisting her arm behind her back and trapping our hands between us as I tug her hard against my chest. Too naive for this place.

“Damn it!” she snaps.

I slip one of her obnoxiously big daggers from her thigh sheath and lift it to the soft skin of her throat, pinning her in place with my forearm. Her head falls back against my chest, the silver ends of her hair braided up like a crown. She barely reaches my collarbone, so I dip my head so the others won’t hear, and gods she smells really fucking good like—

No thinking about how she smells, jackass.

“Don’t trust a single person who faces you on this mat,” I lecture quietly near the shell of her ear, careful to keep my mouth off her. Since when do I think about putting my mouth on an opponent?

“Even someone who owes me a favor?” she retorts, keeping her voice equally low.

Warmth flares in my chest in appreciation of her discretion, her quick observation that this lesson isn’t for public dissemination, and I drop the knife, kicking it to her squad leader just like the other two and ignoring the bluster of threat in his stern expression.

“I’m the one who decides when to grant that favor. Not you.” I release her so I don’t dislocate her shoulder and step back.

She acts immediately, spinning with a raised fist, and I bat it away from my throat.

“Good.” I can’t help but smile as I block her next attempt just as easily. “Going for the throat is your best option, as long as it’s exposed.”

Her cheeks flush, anger narrowing her eyes as she kicks in the same fucking combination she’s already tried, and I grab hold of her thigh again, unsheathing the last dagger there and letting it fall before I release her. I lift my scarred eyebrow in sheer disappointment. She’s smarter than that. “I expect you to learn from your mistakes.” I kick it to Aetos.

She retrieves her next weapon from her rib sheath and takes a defensive stance as she circles me. It’s all I can do not to sigh in complete, utter annoyance. I don’t need to see her to hear every step on the mat behind me as she hesitates.

“You going to prance or are you going to strike?” That should get her moving.

The shadows on the mat give her away, and I twist and duck as she jabs forward, the knife slicing through the air where I’d been standing. At least she really went for it, but the move leaves her exposed, so I use her arm to flip her around the side of my torso, sending her face-first into the mat and following her down.

She gasps when I wrench her arm into a submission hold, forcing her to drop the dagger. Careful to balance most of my weight on my right, I set my left knee onto her back just enough to stress her. She has to learn how to move under pressure, how to think on the edge of death. I strip away another of her daggers and fling it at the squad leader’s feet, then pull another from her ribs and set it to the exposed skin beneath her jaw.

Then I invade what little space she has. “Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I’ll give that to you,” I whisper into her ear, and she tenses beneath me. Yeah, Violence, I know what you’ve been up to. “Problem is, if you aren’t testing yourself in here”—I drag the blade down her neck, careful not to draw blood—“then you’re not going to get any better.”

“You’d rather I die, no doubt,” she spits back, the side of her face squished against the mat.

“And be denied the pleasure of your company?” Sarcasm drips from my retort.

“I fucking hate you.”

A corner of my mouth lifts. Gods, she’s just as merciless as Sgaeyl when it comes to her tongue. “That doesn’t make you special.”

I gain my feet and kick the knives to Aetos, leaving Sorrengail with two more to fight with as I offer my hand again.

She scowls, but doesn’t take the help this time, standing on her own, and another smile curves my mouth. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Every single one of her expressions is beautifully raw. There’s no guile. No artifice. But there’s also no control. “She can be taught.”

“She’s a quick learner,” she fires back.

“That remains to be seen.” I take two steps backward and beckon her forward by crooking my fingers again.

“You’ve made your damn point.” Her voice rises to a public level, and Imogen gasps behind me, no doubt worried that I’ll lose my temper and kill the first-year.

But killing her is the last thing on my mind.

“Trust me, I’ve barely gotten started.” I cross my arms and shift my weight back, curious to see what she does next and even more perplexed as to why I care so damned much.

Sure, she’s beautiful, but I’ve never let the symmetry of someone’s facial features sway me. And it’s not the palpable hatred in her ever-changing eyes, either. I’m used to being loathed. But the combination of her hatred and her silence about seeing us meet is too intriguing to ignore—

She moves, and I’m too fucking distracted to react like usual, and when she kicks for the backs of my knees, I fall. Hard.

Holy shit.

“What did I say about being reckless?” Sgaeyl pushes through my shields. “The silver-haired girl is a distraction you can’t aff—”

I plant my feet on that mental hillside in Tyrrendor and reinforce my shields, blocking her out. She’s never going to let me live this down.

Sorrengail lands on my back and attempts a headlock. Good for her. It’s a solid choice, but she isn’t physically strong enough to cut off my air supply. She’s fighting like she’s six inches taller and has another forty pounds on her instead of leaning into her actual strengths.

I don’t bother with her arms. Twisting quickly, I break her grip and grasp the backs of her thighs in one motion, throwing us into a roll that ends with me pinning her back to the mat. Before she can take another breath, I put my forearm against the delicate line of her throat but don’t press.

There are over a dozen different ways to end her in this position, and I have all the leverage. But though my hips anchor hers to the mat, I have most of my weight braced on my left arm so I don’t crush her.

She’s well and fucking caught, and the flash of fear that’s quickly masked by fury in her eyes tells me she knows it, too.

Damn it. I don’t want to crush her.

What the fuck is happening to me?

She grabs for a dagger and makes the monumental mistake of going for my shoulder.

I abandon her throat and capture her wrist, pinning it above her head. Then I watch her face with rapt fascination as her expression shifts from wide-eyed shock, to tensing fear, to pursed-lipped anger all in a matter of seconds. The speed with which she processes information and compartmentalizes her feelings is such an advantage, and I doubt she even knows it.

Pink flushes up her neck and into her cheeks, and suddenly I find myself studying her for an entirely different reason. The blush, the skittered pulse, the way her gaze flicks toward my mouth for less than a second… I’m not the only one attracted here.

Fuck. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The world outside the mat ceases to exist as my focus narrows to just Violence. She really is stunning, especially when pissed. Tension surges between us, and my heartbeat jumps despite my best effort to lock that shit down. But damn if I’m not critically aware of the feel of her body beneath mine, the warmth of her skin under my fingertips, the way her breath catches as I lower my face to hers slowly.

Sliding my fingers up the heel of her hand, I force her fist open, then toss the blade across the mat before freeing her wrist.

“Get your dagger,” I demand.

“What?” Her eyes fly wide.

“Get. Your. Dagger,” I repeat, moving her hand with mine and dragging it to her ribs, to the last of her daggers. I curl my fingers around hers, grabbing the hilt.

Even her hands are soft. Fragile. Breakable. And if I don’t teach her how to use her petite size to her advantage, the next opponent will use it to shatter her. And for some fucking reason I can’t identify or deny…I care.

Gods damn it.

“You’re tiny.” Anger simmers in my stomach.

“Well aware.” She glares.

“So stop going for bigger moves that expose you.” I bring our laced hands to my side and drag the tip down my ribs. “A rib shot would have worked just fine.” Then I lead our hands around to my back, leaving myself vulnerable for the first time since I walked into this prison of a war college. “Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too.”

She swallows, and I fight the urge to watch the motion of her throat, holding her gaze instead. I swear, her eyes seem different every time I look into them. No wonder I can’t look away.

I bring our hands to my waist, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “Chances are, if your opponent is in armor, it’s weak here. Those are three easy places you could have struck before your opponent would have had time to stop you.”

Her lips part, and she draws a shaky breath.

“Do you hear me?” I’m sure as hell not repeating this lesson.

She nods.

“Good. Because you can’t poison every enemy you come across,” I whisper, watching the blood drain from her face as I level the accusation. “You’re not going to have time to offer tea to some Braevi gryphon rider when they come at you.”

“How did you know?” She tenses under me, and fuck , her thighs clench around my hips.

I have to get the fuck off her before she realizes she has another weapon at her disposal when it comes to me. “Oh, Violence, you’re good, but I’ve known better poison masters. The trick is to not make it quite so obvious.”

Brennan would give one of his frustrated sighs if he knew just how obvious his little sister was. Then again, he’d also try to kick my ass for the position I have Violence in.

A bitter taste floods my mouth. She has no clue he’s alive.

She opens her mouth like she’s about to speak.

“I think she’s been taught enough for the day,” Aetos barks.

It takes every ounce of control I possess not to startle at the sudden reminder that we’re not alone. “He always that overprotective?” I mutter, putting a couple of inches between us.

“He cares about me.” She narrows her eyes at me, which I’m starting to think is her default expression.

“He’s holding you back. Don’t worry. Your little poisoning secret is safe with me.” I arch my scarred brow and hope she gets the hint to keep my secret safe, too. Then I slide our joined hands along her side and sheathe the jewel-hilted blade she has no business carrying. It’s too fucking big for her. Too easy to knock loose.

“You’re not going to disarm me?” she questions as I slip my fingers from hers and lift my weight off her.

Thank gods she has the common sense to release my hips from the grip of her thighs, because mine has fled, replaced by the urge to leave them right where they were and carry her to the nearest empty room to see just how attracted we both are.

But that way lies absolute disaster.

“Nope. Defenseless women have never been my type. We’re done for today.” I stand immediately, leaving her there, and walk to the edge of the mat to get my weapons from Imogen.

“What the hell was that?” she whispers, handing back the last of my knives.

“Aetos.” I ignore her question and turn toward the squad leader across the mat, who’s busy coddling Violence as usual.

His head snaps toward mine, and the anger there almost makes me smile.

“She could use a little less protection and a little more instruction.” I level an accusatory look on him until he nods, then turn and walk away.

“You in the mood to spar with first-years?” Garrick asks, keeping pace with me once I’m a few steps from Second Squad, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Or just that particular first-year?”

“Sometimes I hate how fucking observant you are.”

“It’s hard to miss the way you look at her,” he says, lowering his voice.

“Like I want to kill her?” I retort, spotting an interesting match in Claw Section.

“Or fu—”

“Don’t finish that sentence when I’m in the mood to hit people.” We’re mutually assured destruction against each other, which makes us the perfect sparring partners, but I’m just aggravated enough to do some real damage to my best friend, despite the size he has on me.

“Oh, would you, please?” He puts his hand to his heart and grins. “I need you to use those big, strong hands to show me—”

I shove his shoulder hard enough to send him staggering sideways and keep walking out of his section and into Claw. The farther the better when it comes to Sorrengail.

#fourth wing bonus chapter #xaden riorson

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