#and his position as the ‘ringleader’

[chaosbutautism]

“So, Lucky, where did you go on your…’break’?”

“I..uh, I don’t really know. The place, I mean.”

Freddy looked at him with a professional neutrality; calm, polite, yet to the point. This must be how he acts with clients, such a far cry from his usual dry sarcasm.

“Were you lead there or was one of Miss Nightingale’s…capabilities used?”

“She blindfolded me, dragged me through the room and then suddenly I was somewhere else! I mean, I can do a bit of magic myself, it’s a perk of the job, but no teleportation for me.”

“Mhm. Could you describe the space you were taken to? Please make it as detailed as possible.”

“It was a large room, like, really large. It had some dividers and partition walls to section the space off though. The ceiling had a bunch of different drawings on it, the Cycle symbol in the middle, that’s the same symbol as Oletus uses as its crest, and a bunch of…animals. Mostly crows and birds, but others too.”

Freddy motioned him to halt dis rambling, the sound of a typewriter quickly clacking out whatever notes the Lawyer was making onto paper. Once he was done, Lucky continued.

“The floor was regular hardwood, like almost all the flooring at the manor. Sometimes it was broken up by stupidly chic carpets. They were soft, sure, but they were so detailed they should’ve been hung on a wall instead of walked over. There were no windows and no doors and the room was lit up by chandeliers. They looked like they were made of brass or something.”

Freddy’s fingers were typing at a mesmerizing speed. It went so fast, there was a slight bit of motion blur.

“It was always comfortably warm in the room, which was nice. It smelled of lavender. There was this ridiculously huge bed, so big I could lay spread-eagle in the middle and would still have a good bit of room on either side. The closet was huge too, but locked. My clothing, all loungewear, was put in drawers at the bottom. There was a giant bath, with constant warm water, a fancy dinner table with very fancy plates and stuff. There was a really soft couch, lots of books and a fireplace. It was so obviously expensive, I felt guilty just for staying there. I think it might’ve been Miss Nightingale’s room.”

After two minutes of furious typing, Freddy looked back up.

“Thank you. The description was sufficient. Lucky, could I ask you why you were, as you say it, ‘put on leave’?”

“Ehm…I hand an incident with a hunter.”

“A violent one?”

“Not really. A hunter, the…uh, clown one, came in. He didn’t even say anything before I had, like, just the biggest panic attack ever! Like, I threw up and passed out. I walked around with a fever for a week after! The worst part was, it kept happening. I’d see this guy come in, almost die from my brain feeding me panic chemicals and get sick for a week afterwards. Miss Nightingale temporarily took me out of commission to, according to her, ‘solve some internal issues’. I was forced into a lot of rest, warm food and so much medicine. She’d bring me pills, refuse to tell me what they did, claim it was in ‘the contract’ and make me take them. I don’t even have a contract!”

“No contract…I think you might be working illegally. Are you sure you haven’t signed anything?”

“…No. I don’t want to talk about this one anymore.”

Freddy nodded, showing his willingness to back off.

“Alright. Have your Smileyface-related ailments stopped now that you’ve finished your leave?”

“Mostly. I’m still nervous whenever he comes in and Miss Nightingales takes over whenever he wants to buy something, but for the rest I’m fine.”

“That’s good to hear. I am sorry for the unprompted interrogation and the abduction beforehand…I have been worried about you.”

“Freddy—“

“The only human staff other than you was coerced into handling the physical affairs of the manor and human experimentation. I think I have a right to worry about you. You disappeared for a long time, Lucky. Half the manor essentially believed we were lying about you, until you came back. After our much less civil interrogation of Orpheus, we were horrified of what he went through. I just…needed to know that you are alright.”

“I was—am fine, just a bit lonely at the time. I don’t work directly for whatever creature runs this place, Miss Nightingale is my boss. She’s a bit strict and doesn’t like me socializing, but she cares…in her own way. I haven’t , and probably never will, seen the big big boss. Miss Nightingale is too happy with her assistant to let me get taken.”

Freddy hums. They drink the last of their tea in silence. Freddy stores his notes in a folder with the label ‘Manor—Affiliates’ that in turn gets locked into a safe. He sells an excuse about Lucky helping him move some newly purchased furniture, something he actually did buy to make it believable, to Miss Nightingale. Lucky doesn’t get in trouble. All is well. Lucky’s back.

Sometimes I wonder where Lucky disappeared to after Miss Nightingale sent him on a "break." (Literally made the au)

Was he just at the back? Forced to listen to his friends' voices coming and going, hearing new voices join the fray?

Somewhere else entirely? A pocket dimension? Wondering when would be the next time he'd be able to see the lawyer who always made him laugh with his sarcastic humor? The thief he always gave not-miss-nightingale approved discounts?

The gardener who always stayed behind an extra minute or two to browse the shop with stars in her eyes? The doctor who left him snacks and drinks whenever there was a special occasion?

Maybe he was just hidden away in the manor, kept out of sight and right under everyone's noses. Despite the number of newcomers that arrive, making the manor more lively, Lucky has never felt so alone.

[mellowwillowy]

CW: Cannibalism.

"It hurts so much, dear. I- I don't feel so good..." You hid yourself under the cover, wrapping yourself like an egg roll as your husband set down the tray of warm soup and a couple of medicines.

"I get that dear, but you should take your medicines first to feel better." It was not said in a chiding tone, his hand patting your egg roll figure repeatedly as though he was knocking on a door.

You peeked your head out and took a generous sniff at the soup, it smelled and looked good despite being mixed with herbals. "Come, just sit up and open your mouth," He proposed as he positioned you to sit with the pillows supporting your back.

He blew the spoonful of the soup before urging you to drink it. The taste was not bad but it did not leave a good aftertaste as well despite his attempt to filter the herbal taste. Nonetheless, drinking the soup was a good idea as it warmed your body.

And the meat floating in the soup was not contributing any taste for you as well. It looked odd, shaped like any normal chicken meat but the taste left this strange stinging taste.

But it did make you feel better whenever you took a bite of it, the aching of your body slowly dissipating while your throat felt less sore with each gulp of the soup you took.

Your husband sure knew every way to make you feel better, even by making soup for when you were sick!

"Good, now take these and go to sleep again, okay? I'll be here the whole day." "Really? Don't you have work to do?" "Mmh, I can always work on the paperwork here. Now, now," He tucked you into the blanket, "Let's get you feel better."

You took hold of his hand, cold contrary to your warm skin, "I love you, Yulian." "I love you too, dear." He kissed your forehead and sat down on the chair, sorting through the documents.

---

"I really didn't expect that the pastor's meat would be this efficient as a medicine. Is it because they are blessed by his holiness?" Yulian sat down across the bed, his eyes gazing upon your peaceful sleeping body. The sleeping medicines helped a lot as well, ensuring you get all the sleep you need to recover.

And ensuring that you did not hear any of his apologies.

"I'm so sorry dear, but I just can't bear seeing you being in pain. I know this will shock you a lot should you ever find out, but know that I am going this far only to cure you. I really love you."

It was not hard for Yulian to get away with it as he has the underground bastards to help him cover up his crime, having the mafia ringleader in a pinch surely makes things easier.

"Sweet dream."

A smooch on your forehead that warmed you up. You could feel that but was it a dream?

[amorchai]

𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒. ─ j.p

pairing(s): jake peralta x female!detective!reader

summary: it's you and jake's first case together as a couple, only for the plan to go pear-shaped.

words: 953

warnings/tags: female!reader, kidnapping ( made it as minimal as possible ), established relationship, worry.

it was very rare for the squad to see jake peralta worried. very rare. only at times where his morning bagel fell onto the floor or the street dog wasn’t waiting outside after a long shift but apart from that everyone was used to seeing goofy-carefree jake.

so when jake had ran into the precinct, wide eyed and fast paced, not one limerick falling from his lips as he almost fell into the door leading to captain holt’s office – the squad knew something was wrong.

terry followed swiftly; half-eaten yoghurt left behind to listen to the information, it was clear jake was pleading to the captain, wondering why you weren’t by his side. rosa and boyle follow his frame curiously while amy tries to lipread the captain’s responses.

one of your first cases together as a couple had gone pear-shaped. you had insisted to go in as bait – talk to the drug-ringleader and try to sneak some case-altering information. jake had argued at first, not wanting you in that position but he also advocated as a major feminist so when you said you were just as strong as a man, he immediately agreed.

however, the plan you had set out didn’t work, jake sitting at the other side of the earpiece – in the dirty van parked up front. he was unaware of the gun held to your head while the criminal wordlessly gestured for you to take out the earpiece.

when the sound muffled into white noise, jake started tapping his earpiece, “y/n? y/n!” he kept saying but there was nothing but lousy feedback. jake immediately storms the building, gun in hand and bullet-proof vest into the lonely room filled with nothing but a smashed earpiece on the ground.

which led him to the captain’s room, alerting him on the situation. “you said this was supposed to be a low-contact stake-out, why did you deem it smart to send our detective in there, unarmed, and without a squad waiting?” holt was furious, terry raising his hand to try and calm down the situation.

“we can try to track security footage, find out where they took her, captain. we only need a few hours-” jake pulls a face, “nuh-uh, i’m not waiting three hours while my girlfriend’s stuck with him.”

“look, i get it but what else can we do, peralta?” asks terry. jake looks to holt who shrugs, a hint of pure fear and disbelief in his own eyes worrying your boyfriend more than he’s ever felt.

jake sighs, “what if we check out the other location he’s known to sell? it's an abandoned warehouse just outside the city – get a squad together, storm the place to see.”

holt nods, “yes. meanwhile we’ll have a couple of detectives head down to the last place, find some cctv footage just in case it’s a dead-end. let’s get a group together now.”

there was a very quick briefing, holt assigning people jobs in order to get their detective back safely and before jake knew it he was in the back of a cop van with the same bullet-proof vest on. his mind spinning with agitation.

“hey,” jake looks to his side where rosa’s voice cuts in, “she’s gonna be fine, man. she’s a great cop.” jake nods, “i know, she’s the best, but this is all my fault i shouldn’t have let her go in herself.”

the van stops, doors opening to lead everyone outside to the abandoned warehouse. “she’s gonna be fine,” rosa reassures once more, and jake hopes to god his friend is right, jumping out of the van and catching up to the group.

holt leads, glancing into one of the broken windows before gesturing jake, terry, and amy towards the front door while the rest go round the small back space. the walkie talky that sits on amy’s vest muffles quietly, “on three.”

the moment amy says three, jake kicks the bolted door and aims his gun, “hands in the air!” a mix of voices scream into the room. several men raise their hands, one with a gun in his hand jake recognises as the leader – but all he focuses on is you.

you’re sat on a chair, you look unharmed but shaken up and jake wants to immediately run over but is forced to wait as captain holt shouts to the criminals, “put your gun down and put your hands above your head.”

you’re watching jake and jake’s watching you, small steps forward before each men are being cuffed until he sprints over towards you – meeting you in a bone-crushing hug. “i was only gone four hours,” jake admires your way to chuckle in this moment and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, holding the back of your head.

“are you alright, babe?” jake asks, pulling back to look at you properly. “yeah. the only thing he did was push me into the car but apart from that i’m okay.”

your giggle is cut off with a long kiss, jake holding your face as he desperately moves his lips against yours, mumbling a low, “i’m sorry.” you pull back, eyebrows frowning and hands shaking against his chest, “why are you sorry?”

“it’s my fault, i should never have agreed for you to go in alone. next time we are going to play it safe and-” before he can continue, you’re kissing jake again, shakily but causing him to melt anyway. you hold his hand as you’re all guided out, “maybe if i wasn’t such a good feminist…” jake trails off, eyes gazing hopeful towards you but all you do is amusingly shake your head and nudge your boyfriend, kissing his cheek as your glad to be back beside him

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[rinaxtaros]

[08] | RED.

Summary: You and Sebastian are left to scout out the circus.

— undercover (adjective) involving secret work within a community or organization, especially for the purposes of police investigation or espionage.

"Are you ready?" The tall frame of the red and yellow striped tents casts an ominous shadow over both you and Sebastian’s beings. The faint glow from the flickering candle lights scattered throughout the grassy fields provides a dim luminescence. You glance at the taller man, taking in his features. Somehow, the yellow-lighting which would always make a regular person look absolutely dreadful, makes Sebastian look more alluring.

You try not to linger on the thought too long, though.

"Let's not keep them waiting too long.” You grumble, falling into pace with Sebastian. The demon had wasted no time in your arrival, as he had almost immediately switched into his feeble past-butler role. His love for theatrics was the most human thing about his existence.

Ciel had sent you and Sebastian join first as to give the younger boy the upper hand when coming the next day. Ciel wasn’t too good at acting on the spot so in his words, he wanted to be “prepared in a manner that the Queen herself would appreciate.”

“Hurry now, [y/n].” Sebastian calls sensually, shooting you a smug look. You scoff, not realising how you had fell behind. Each step causes the heel of your shoe to melt into the softened soil, causing your journey to be less than satisfactory.

“Stupid shoes…” You murmer, pulling your feet from the ground in a less than elegant manner. Who do you have to impress here? Some foul human involved in the disappearance and probable murder of young children? Even as a demon you know these people are worth less than the disgusting muck coated against your heels.

The performance had put you in a positively sour mood. Sebastian’s love for felines clouded his judgement and he put his head and the tigers mouth. Dwelling over the situation continues to make it feel less and less real and more like you’ve pulled the story out of your ass. You’re sure Ciel would shout at you for telling him lies if you reported this back to him.

However, the little stunt has now landed you in the medical tent and behind the iron privacy bars. You’ve unfortunately come to terms with the fact that Sebastian’s stupid decision has allowed you to gain closer insight to the dynamics behind the scenes.

"You seem quite alright even though your man got bit by a tiger, ye?" The ginger ringleader, Joker, laughs as he observes the sour look on your face. Sebastian had been acting coy with Beast and the medic, claiming he was just too fascinated with big cats.

You look over at the man who was a little too close for your liking and size him up. His face paint was starting to fade, probably from the layer of sweat he produced running around the circus to calm the patrons.

You flick your hair over your shoulder as you look back at your companion for the night, "He likes the attention.”

Sebastian’s eyes remained close, which you’re sure is on purpose because the stupid expression pisses you off to no end. Ciel would be absolutely fuming if Sebastian had pulled that stunt while he was here, so you know he’s aware how stupid it was.

In between conversations, the busty tiger tamer you now know as the stage name Beast had promptly beelined towards the busy doctor. She was complaining about her prosthetic leg and how it was starting to lock up on her. Sebastian was quick to ask a few questions as prosthetics aren’t an openly common practice within your part of England.

You ignore how Joker burns holes into your body. He was unabashedly checking you out, but you paid no mind. You understand his questionable approach to your identity seeing as your clothes aren’t far off from your normal attire. Joker observes how maid-like your dress is but you surprisingly didn't dawn any of the usual frilly material or awfully tacky headband. The rest of the crew recognise how connected you and Sebastian seem to be seeing as you two seem to have silent conversations with each other just by looking at each other. To them, however, you look like a pair.

Sebastian had maneauvered himself beside Beast who perched herself onto the desk in front of the doctor. He was quick and no one within the tent had realised what Sebastian was doing before he lifted the girls leg and subsequently exposed her panties to everyone looking at the two.

A pregnant pause falls over the tent. You watch, eyes darting between every member of the circus.

One beat, two beat, thr—

Swiftly, you’ve placed yourself to the side of the commotion. Before anyone could blink, Beast screams and grasps her whip. Joker and the chirpy blonde one are crying out for the commotion to stop just as quickly as it’s started. However, in the middle of the chaos, Sebastian smiles.

Truthfully, it is quite amusing to watch Sebastian barely break a sweat when avoiding the onslaught attack.

All fun must come to an end, though.

"I'm afraid we must get going now." Your hand grabs the whip as it flies out in front of you. No one had noticed the your quick manoeuvre across the room until you placed yourself in the middle of the chaos. Beast stutters to find the right words as her whip is pulled out of her hands and dropped to the dirt floor with a dulled thud.

Sebastian waves his free hand as a goodbye gesture as you’re currently grabbing the sleeve of his other hand.

Sebastian follows without much of a fight, but he mumbles something as Joker comes running after you both. Surprisingly, he’s able to keep up with your fast-paced walk.

"Hey! Wait a minute, won't ya?" He asks hopefully, extending a hand "Those are some gymnastics you have there lad, and you can move fast lass!”

Sebastian places a gentle hand over your own. You freeze, staring at him. The fist you created on his blazer unclenches and falls to your side.

"I would offer you a place but-"

"Oh, really, you're not having a jest?" Sebastian smiles kindly "I am getting quite sick of my current master...” Sebastian pauses, looking back at you with a devious smile.

You furrow your brows, that good for nothing is up to something!

“My partner too." Sebastian lifts his hand to smooth down your hair. Your words get caught in your mouth as you realise what stunt he is now pulling. You try your best to smile through the irritation as you know Sebastian is enjoying the whole act.

Joker smiles brightly "Great! We'll have auditions tomorrow!"

Sebastian bows "You don't mind if I bring a friend along?" Joker shakes his head "If he's half as good as you I'm sure he'll do well!"

"I'm sure he will.” You add, cutting off the conversation. As much as you could care less about the conversation you just wanted to cut Sebastian’s fun off quicker. Knowing your luck, he was going to start holding your hand.

Ugh.

“Your behaviour was reckless, Sebastian.” You scold Sebastian as you mindlessly walk back to the Phantomhive manor. Your footsteps fall in sync, each crunch, snap and step sounding simultaneously. A pregnant silence falls between both you and Sebastian. The sound of the night surrounds you as the sounds of the wildlife settle in the bushes encasing the pathways.

“Reckless? How so?” Sebastian humours as he continues to walk, unfazed by your annoyance. You clicks your tongue and your roll your eyes as you glance at Sebastian. Of course he has that cocky smile on his face.

”You got your head stuck in the tigers jaw, then you had to go and reveal Beast to her team.” Sebastian muffles a laugh, eyes flicking leisurely to his right to look down at you. You stare back with frustration glazed over your pupils. 

Sebastian laughs as he realises you won’t step down from the petty argument.

“It was just an accident, love.” He smiles, “You aren’t jealous are you, sin of Lust?” He teases as he raises his gloved hand grasp your chin, effectively stopping the two from walking and you from turning away. Automatically, you turn your body to get a better look at the flirtatious demon, hardening your gaze as you grasp at the hand on your chin. You try to push it away but his grips on stronger. His tongue flicks out to wet his lip, lowering his head to close the gap between them. He enjoys watching you struggle.

”Don’t flirt with me, Michaelis.” You spit, “A typical man, aren’t you? Using sexual advances to get out of an argument.” You take the chance to plant your hands against his chest and push. Sebastian falls back a few steps, spluttering.

“I am not jealous.”

With that, you turn on your heel and begin to walk away; leaving Sebastian in the dark of the night.

As Sebastian stands in the dark and watched your figure disappear into the night sky, he decides that he quite likes this dynamic.

[franco-barbis-sweetness]

Guys, I was thinking about Franco and his life story and all of the things that probably happened to him when he was growing up and it genuinely just made me. Really sad ?? This dude wouldn't have been a monster if he didn't have to endure all of the things he did. He wasn't born that way, he was created :(

Like, just think about it. He had defects from birth that affected his appearance, which he was born sometime in the 1930's most likely, and I'm sure his appearance cast him out from society automatically. He was even disowned BY his own father for the way he looked.

His father apparently murdered his mother, and he must've had ENOUGH reason to believe it was his father who did it since he talks about it in his game dialogue. He may not have seen the body or anything but this probably caused some early childhood trauma straight off the bat. (The fact he had nobody to love or nuture him or read him bedtime stories makes me WEEP. He had nobody to be kind to him, to cook him breakfast, to tuck him in, to give him any love at all SOBBINGGGG)

His dad was literally the head of the Martino Crime family. So he grew up constantly surrounded by a life of crime. Blood, murder, violence, all while he was sooo young. All of those things are a horrific environment for a child, yet alone him having to watch his own FATHER being the ringleader of it all.

Salvatore was probably an avid and violent drunk, so I'm sure Franco was beat all of the time. He might have been exposed to some sort of SA from his father at some point, considering how absolutely horrid he was ??

Literally the only mother figures Franco had were his father's various lovers and wives. And all they ever did was neglect or humiliate him. Of course his mafia don father wouldn't attract polite or goodhearted women.

Franco probably grew up believing murder was something good, something to be proud of. He took his first life at 12 years old because he thought it was something that would make his father proud of him. With that being said, the only time that poor baby was ever embaced was when he KILLED somebody ????? And of course, because he got praise for murdering a man, he latched onto that bit of affection and positivity he'd never gotten before, and grew up further starting to do the only thing it seemed he was slightly liked for.

Since he started doing jobs for his dad as a debt collector and hitman, I'm sure he developed a complex through all of that, surrounded by his praise for violence and being unwillingly surrounded by it constantly. He became violent because that's what the world shaped him to become. Franco probably grew so used to the familiarity of killing that that's why he lost all meaning for the lives of others. And among the fact he was only ever outcasted in the first place by everybody ? I'm sure he felt some sort of revenge by reaping lives of the world that only ever did him wrong :( He probably viewed everybody as the same cold, heartless people he knew in his upbringing. He might've felt he had some sort of fucked up place in the Mafia, something he never had anywhere else.

He really wasn't ever taught... proper affection ? Innocent or sexual, all he ever knew was his father's behavior towards women, which wasn't good at all. When he snapped and murdered prostitutes, he might have seen it as a fresh start to something he ruined, behavior he may have learned from his father and the murder of his previous lovers. Violence was also VERY much a norm for him at this point in his life.

He was literally abused and humiliated so much he learned to get off on it sexually. The only thing Franco perceived of what sex was, was his erection being smashed painfully into a cold floor. He didn't know soft or gentle caresses. And because of his lack of a mother, he searches for a maternal figure within a sexual partner. Its like his line between a mother and a partner is blurred because those two relationships became one and the same in his mind. Its not that he views HIS actual mother as a sexual thing, I think its similar to like daddy issues ? How women tend to look for the care they never got from their father in older men they date. Its a complex, a symptom of neglect. I think franco desperately wants that motherly love he never got in the form of a lover, but he's definitely gone crazy along the way and it's become a deranged version of it from the things he was forced to endure :(

Franco's brain was also most likely SEVERELY damaged when his father beat him after the whole Angelina thing. I mean, have you seen his head in the game ??? I'm sure he looked relatively normal before that. I think it was his dad's doing that made his head all red and infected how it is. He was literally beat within the inch of his life, he almost died. I can only imagine he suffered from brain damage, head trauma, skull fractures, various infections, loss of hearing, sight, loss of teeth, etc. This probably made his messed up way of thinking even more messed up.

Then, he was exiled further by his father, physically this time, when he sent him off to Cuba. He killed even more people there and was practically on warfront. War is known to cause PTSD and stuff and other mental illnesses for a lot of people that unfortunately have to go through it. So even though Franco was already mentally damaged beyond any repair, he went through front line raids against revolutionary forces.

Then, yk, Murkoff got a hold of him eventually and I'm sure they did their fair share of whatever experiments they did on him. Placing him in the trials, putting his father's name on signs, and even naming the boat in his map after Angelina. It's like they made him relive all of his worst memories in a large box.

Anyhow, those are my Franco rambles. I feel like he's genuinely such a complex character that endured so much and it's just like. He's fucked up for a reason. It's not an excuse for the things he did in the game, but its a society vs. man thing with him. He had such a horrible life and a horrendous upbringing and I can't even imagine the agony his life was. Just thinking about the things he was subjected to and the way his mind was shaped so early on is so heartbreaking. Makes me wish I could've been there for baby Franco, if he had the proper love he never would've turned out the way he had 🙁 Red barrels really does have a way of making me feel bad for all of their characters. Most of them are just so unbelievably tragic.

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (Part XIII)

XIII. The promised land

MASTERLIST

Summary: The light at the end of the tunnel… you don’t know if that is good or bad 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, mentions of rape, might miss some warnings 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: I was planning on rewatching (I’m on season 6), to write this, but like I said, I want to separate a bit from this, so… I’m narrating with a bit of mistakes, but, since I got three more people playing here that weren’t here before (Tyresse, Beth and Reader), things are bound to be different, right?.

This was surreal

You were on the way to a community that had walls, 800.000 dollar houses on it, running water, facilities, dance groups, families, you name it.

After being on the road for months, after executing a man that was trying to rape Carl and then another who was going to beat up Daryl to death, after being offered Sanctuary only to be a trap set by literal living cannibals, only to be throw back in the wild, making your group turn completely feral you believed

(the turning point being when you ate those dogs)

If this was another trap, you didn’t think you’d survive it.

You were so tired, not only physically, but also mentally, your brain had gone into survival mode too many times already that you were exhausted, a type of exhaustion that didn’t went away with a good night's sleep.

And now it was worse, not because you wanted to prove yourself for the team, but because now you cared so much for them that you were terribly stressed not only for yourself but for Daryl, Judith, Carl, Rick, and all the others.

But if this was real…

Gods please let it be real

You needed this, you deserve it

Well, did you?

You felt a light squeeze on your shoulder, you looked up at Carl, who smiled at you

“We are going to be fine”, you chuckled, ruffling his hair and wrapping an arm around him

“I should be the one telling YOU that, little dude”, you said with a soft smile

“Why do you always walk behind the group?”, he asked softly when you released him, you realized you didn’t quite have a good chat with Carl since the first days of you meeting him

“Well…”, you started, “It’s a position from where I can assist if someone needs me, and have a complete view of what is happening…”, he only hummed, “I can make sure nobody is left behind…”

“Well except you”, he said

“Right”, you conceded, “also from there I can…”

“Take care of everybody”, he said, you only nodded

You were concerned, to say the least, when things seemed too good to be true, they probably were, they probably were a lie, and you were betting your lives on this one

Well, you weren’t gonna last anyways if you kept going out there in the wild, and you had two kids to think about, so, for Judith and Carl was worth to try…. But Rick… was a bit mad… 

itw as understandable, after everything that happened, whatever you felt he felt it ten times more, as he had kids, and he was the ringleader, the one that made decisions 

So yeah, you could understand him… how he reacted when you met the man who was going to take you to Alexandria. 

Maggie and you had to coerce Daryl to get a good sleep after spending most hours of the night fighting against the strength of walkers and a storm, and then he stood watch for the lot of you to sleep

You stood on each side of the archer until he leaned into you and sneaked a couple of hours of sleep, Maggie smiled at you, nodding and leaving the two of you, you cuddled him against you, under your arm as he had done, and once he had closed his eyes, you took the liberty of actually, caressing his hair softly, lulling him to sleep

“I’ll keep watch for a couple of hours”, you promised, him only humming in response.

This is the second time he slept this close to you, and he realized, he never slept more comfortable since this shit show started.

He was the hunter and main protector of the group, and he deserved his rest more than anybody. Maggie looked at you and nodded, and accompanied Sasha outside of the barn, to see what was going on out there.

You catched Rick staring at the both of you, and you shared looks, he only smiled at you, it was a smirk more like it, he barely nodded at you, like giving you permission. And with a subtle smile he took Judith from Carl and cradled her against his chest.

You felt his calm breath on the side of your face, and you thought about how nice it felt, how nice he was. How much you liked him

You barely knew him, but at the same time, you felt like you knew him for forever, how he accepted you and took you in, how he always made sure you were alright, trough being a bit mean, and frustrated, but Maggie was right, he cared for you… his soft demeanor of the past days, his pretty eyes… and you wondered if you could ever… if he would… if he would like you as much as you liked him…

Your thoughts were interrupted, when Maggie entered the barn back

“Hey guys…”, she said, Daryl stirred awake. Behind Maggie came a man you didn’t know, “This is Aaron, we met him outside…”, in a second, everybody was standing to attention, and guns were being unlocked. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and pointed right at the unknown man. “He’s by himself, we took his weapons and we took his gear”

“Hi!”, he greeted. “It’s nice to meet you”, he was weirdly clean, he looked like he was out here for a trekking experience in a easy path, not in the middle of the apocalypse

“You said he had a weapon?”, asked Rick, Maggie passed him his gun, he checked the ammo on it and then he looked up at him, “There’s something you need?”

The group became hostile towards this guy, he looked all too well kept and you didn’t buy it either, that he was alone, this might be a trap

“He had a camp nearby”, said Sasha, the look in her eyes told you he wasn’t buying it either, “he wants us to audition for a membership”

“I wish there was another word”, he said, raising his hands, proving he meant no harm, “Audition makes it seem like we are a dance group, that is only friday nights”, he was terribly nervous, perhaps because all of the guns pointed at him at the moment, “and it’s not a camp, it’s a community”, you looked at Rick, who did not seemed impressed, “... i think you all would make valuable additions, but it’s not my call, my job its to convince you all to follow me home”, he saw the faces of the group, you were not buying it, and Rick seemed positively rabid with the look he had going on 

You were all weary of this stranger, sharing concerned looks amongst yourselves, he was weirdly calm, like he was some sort of messiah 

“I know, if I were you, I wouldn’t go either…”, he explained softly, he seemed weirdly nice, if anything, “Not until I knew exactly what I was getting into. Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack? Front pocket, there's an envelope”, Sasha weirdly did as he told her, “There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those. I apologize in advance for the picture quality. We just found an old camera store last…”

“Nobody gives a shit”, interrupted Daryl

“ You're absolutely 100% right. That's the first picture I wanted to show you because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe. If you join us, you will be. Each panel in that wall is a 15-foot-high, 12-foot-wide slab of solid steel framed by cold-rolled steel beams and square tubing. Nothing alive or dead gets through that without our say-so…. Like I said, security is obviously important. In fact, there's only one resource more critical to our community's survival. The people. Together we're strong. You can make us even stronger. The next picture, you'll see inside the gates. Our community was first construc…”, Rick had walked over to him and punched him in the face so hard he left him on the ground 

“So we're clear, that look wasn't a "let's attack that man" look. It was a "he seems like an okay guy to me" look”, protected Michonne

“This wasn't a very good start”, you muttered, watching him 

“We got to secure him. Dump his pack. Let's see what this guy really is”, commanded Rick, Daryl took his pack and turn it over into the ground, many items fell out

“Everybody else, we need eyes in every direction, They're coming for us… We might not know how or when, but they are”, you didn’t know who he was talking about, but you took your gun out of your holster and walked to the back of the barn towards a small window to see outside 

“Me and Sasha, we didn't see him. If he had wanted to hurt us, he could've”, Maggie tried to explain, and you were glad you weren't the only one who thought Rick was taking things a bit… cray cray

“Anybody see anything?”, he asked, ignoring Maggie, and Michonne for that matter

“Just a lot of places to hide”, said Glenn, that, as Daryl was right there with Rick, checking the other glassless window of the barn

“All right, keep looking. What did you find?”, Rick asked Carl

“Never seen a gun like that before”

“It’s a flare gun”, he said back, the man who identified as Aaron groaned, waking up

“That's a hell of a right cross there, Rick”, he smiled, he actually smiled 

“Sit him up”, you walked towards the man

“You’ll have to forgive us”, you said more calmly, Rick looked back at you, “the last time someone offered us sanctuary, they tried to eat us”, Aaron frowned, not really getting the main gist of it.

“You're being cautious. I completely understand”, he said lightly, he was good at his job, if it was in fact recruiting people 

“How many of your people are out there? You have a flare gun. You have it to signal your people. How many of them are there?”, asked Rick

“Does it matter?”, you could tell he was getting frustrated 

“Yes. Yes, it does”

“I mean, of course, it matters how many people are actually out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there? Because I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say... eight, 32, 444, zero... No matter what I say, you're not going to trust me”

“Well, it's hard to trust anyone who smiles after getting punched in the face”, said Sasha

“How about a guy who leaves bottles of water for you on the road?”, he tried then

“How long have you been following us?”, asked Daryl

“Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail. Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water, you never turned on each other. You're survivors and you're people. Like I said, and I hope you won't punch me for saying it again, that is the most important resource in the world”

“How many others are out there?”, asked Rick

“One”, Rick didn’t buy it, neither did you, “I knew you wouldn't believe me. If it's not words, if it's not pictures, what would it take to convince you that this is for real? What if I drove you to the community? All of you? We leave now, we'll get there by lunch”

“I'm not sure how the 18 of us are going to fit in the car you and your one friend drove down here in”

‘We drove separately. If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home. There's enough room for all of us”

“And you're parked just a couple miles away, right?”, asked Carol, who, as the rest, was not convinced.

“East on Ridge Road, just after you hit Route 16. We wanted to get them closer, but then the storm came, blocked the road. We couldn't clear it.”

“Yeah, you've really thought this through”

“Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here. You know, light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit. You can trust me”, it amde sense, what he said, but Rick, again wasn’t buying it, who were though, was Maggie, Sasha, Tyresse, and Michonne 

“I'll check out the cars”, Michonne said softly

“There aren't any cars!”, insisted Rick

“There's only one way to find out”, she said softly

“We don't need to find out”, he said, and your stomach growled on protest 

“We do… You know what you know and you're sure of it, but I'm not”, she said

“Me neither”, Rick then looked at you, and you nodded, accepting Maggie’s words 

“Your way is dangerous, mine isn't”, insisted Rick

“Passing up someplace where we can live? Where Judith can live? That's pretty dangerous. We need to find out what this is. We can handle ourselves. So that's what we're gonna do”, said Michonne 

“Then I will, too. I'll go”, said Glenn. Rick then seemed to see reason

“Abraham”, he called, the ginger understood inmediatly

“Yeah. I'll walk with them”, he said firmly

“Rosita?”, he asked then

“Okay”, she said softly

“If there's trouble, you got enough firepower?”, he asked Glenn 

“We got what we got”

“The walkies are out of juice. If you're not back in 60 minutes, we'll come. Which might be just what they want. If we're all in here, we're a target”. He insisted, as the selected group exited the barn to go to their mission

“I've got the area covered”, said Daryl heading out as well, you followed im closely 

“All right, groups of two, find somewhere safe within eyeshot”, Rick commanded as the rest of you followed you to take a lap around the barm. Tyresse and Beth stayed back, Noah, Carl and Carol went one way, youw ent with Daryl

“Was that necessary?”, you asked him, “the hostility?”, he turned towards you, he seemed on edge

“Remember what I told ya’ in Atlanta?”, you thought long and hard, and you nodded

“That I’m part of the family, and that I can’t go around trusting people”, you said softly

“That’s right”, he said, “so you tell me what’s goin’ on in ‘ere”

“He seems nice”, you reasoned

“Yeah, that knocked up lady from Terminus seem’ alright too!”, he said quickly, you chuckled

“I know we have been through hell, he just… seems nice, you now, there are still good people out there”, you said softly

“I know”

“What if you had pulled a gun on me?”, you asked, “or you would have liked Rick to do it to me?”

“He did”

“Well yeah”, you said with another chuckle, “but… you get what I mean…”

“Those in there”, he said, pointing at the barn, “are the only ones that matter”

“I agree”, you said softly, you grabbed onto his hand, “you and our group, is the best thing that has happened to me since this started”, you said convincingly, “and I will do anything in my power to take care of you, alright?”

“You don’t need to…”

“I know”, you said with a soft smile, “we are badasses”

“It’s badass”, he said, you looked at him, “we are badass”

“Alright”, you laughed, “eyes on the treeline”, you mocked, as you kept watching the surrounding of the barn.

You returned to the barn shortly after, after making sure there was nobody out there. 

“This, this is ours now”, said Rick, pointing at the little 

“There's more than enough. It's ours whether or not we go to your camp”

“What do you mean? Why wouldn't we go?”, asked Carl

“If he were lying or if he wanted to hurt us... but he isn't, and he doesn't. We need this. So we're going, all of us”, said Michonne

“Somebody say something if they feel differently”, said Rick, talking to all of the group 

“I don't know, man. This barn smells like horse shit”, said Daryl

“Yeah. We're going”, said Abraham

“So where are we going? Where's your camp?”, Rick looked at each and every one of you, and you all silently agreed, so he only nodded, turning to Aaron, who was grinning happily

“Well, every time I've done this, I've been behind the wheel driving recruits back. I believe you're good people. I've bet my life on it. I'm just not ready to bet my friends' lives just yet”, he explained softly

“You're not driving. So if you want to get home, you'll have to tell us how”, every step of the way was going to be a discussion, a struggle, you could already see that

“Go north on Route 16”, he said simply

“And then?”

“ I'll tell you when we get there”

“We'll take 23 north”, sometimes, Rick was a prick, “You'll give us directions from there”

“That's... I don't know how else to say it... That's a bad idea. We've cleared 16. It'll be faster”

“We'll take 23. We leave at sundown”, he sentenced 

“We're doing this at night?”, you asked, Michone got close to Rick again

“Look, I know it's dangerous. But it's better than riding up to the gates during the day”, insisted Michonne

“If it isn't safe, we need to get gone before they know we're there”, said Rick, and he had a point, but it only makes sense if you knew the area you were going, otherwise… you only had the element of surprise on your side.

“No one is going to hurt you. You're trying to protect your group, but you're putting them in danger”, said Aaron, he was not making himself any favors

You didn’t look the best, if anything, you look like mercenaries who had deserted their army, turn roge and forced to roam over in a dessert for the last months, and you had proven to be anything but friendly to this guy, and yet… he insisted, if I were him and saw us coming, I would have run in the opposite direction.

Was this a trap? a group sent this guy to make us fall in their trap, but why? to protect their territory? to eliminate possible threats? made sense. You caught Rick staring at you, and you realized you must have looked concerned. 

“Tell me where the camp is, we'll leave right now”, insisted Rick, but Aaron got quiet, he didn’t say anything, only looked down “It's going to be a long night Eat. Get some rest if you can”, he said to the group.

You felt cooped up in that barn, you wanted some fresh air, and Daryl was right, it did smell like shit in here, so you stepped out of the barn.

Michonne and Maggie followed you, surprisingly

“What are your thoughts on this?”, asked Michonne, and you cursed yourself, because your face was sometimes really transparent

“I don’t know”, you confessed, “I wanted to believe him, I do, but then… Why us? we look like shit, and we have treated him as such”

“He said it, he said he was watching”, said Maggie carefully

“Look, it adds up, but still…”, you said, “if it is a trap, I’m not sure we can fight it, we are so tired… dehydrated”

“Rick listens to you”, said Michonne, “we want to know what you think”

“I think it's worth the risk”, you assured them both, “because if it's real… it sounds pretty damn awesome”, they smiled, and left you alone.

You sat on a fallen tree, and looked at the beautiful day ahead of you, you took a deep breath, these moments, where you could actually take a breath and not smell the dead… were appreciated.

Nightfall came pretty quickly, and soon, you were walking towards a couple of cars, one of them was a big RV, the other… an old thing, cadillac maybe?

“Michonne, Glenn and I will drive with him”, said Rick, “you go on the RV”

“Where's your partner?”, you asked Aaron, he looked everywhere frantically, but there was nobody out there.

“He probably went back when you took the cars”, he said with a nervous smile, “let’s go”

They got in one car, you all entered the RV, Abraham drive, nobody fought it on it

You opened the emergency gate on the roof, and you managed to stand on what was supposed to be a kitchen table, to look ahead from above, and that way, see possible threats, you grabbed a rifle with a silencer and a telescope. You felt pretty cool, like some sort of sniper

You started the journey when it was already late, and the car was in front of you. As you took the road Rick had said you would, Abraham got a little behind them, as he should, keeping distance in case of an emergency, or if they hit the breaks for any reason 

“HEY!”, you slammed the roof, as the signal you had agreed and Abraham stopped. You saw a huge herd of walkers and the car in front of you crashing against them

“I saw it too!”, Abraham said, he turned the camper away and returned

“We need to go get them!”, fought Carol

“That is not what we agreed on!”, said Abraham, who had received clear instructions from Rick, you had his kids, so homemade sure they were going to get out of this safely

Abraham returned to an intersection, and took the road Aaron first told him to take, you were mounting guard again, as you took the new street, the night sky was lit up with a red light

“Who fired that?”, you asked, slapping the roof again

“It’s them!”, said Rosita, from inside. 

“We’re going!”, demanded Abraham, and the RV took speed down the road.

It was a small town, the bengal was set off by a water tank. From your oint of view, you saw a small herd of roamers, surrounding a car, they had definitely found something… or someone, from there, you took out a bunch of them, before Abraham hit the breaks and everyone got out, you jumped out of the RV, landing dangerously close to broke something, but you didn’t

A man was hiding under the car

“Help!”, he asked, once he saw the threat had been diminished pretty quickly, “I’m Eric, I’m with Aaron!”, you took out your ax, and took out the rest of them, as ROoita and Daryl helped you 

Maggie slipped in and help the man to get out of under the car

“I think I broke my ankle!”, he said. Like Aaron, he looked like he was just out on a hike near a fancy town, he looked clean, and well kept.

You helped him up, and towards an old supply store, where Maggie tended to him. Daryl waited outside for the rest of them. Eric had been the one to fire the flare, so, it was a matter of time until they saw it and came too.

Because they were sure to be back, soon

You kept Carl company, as he was terribly nervous, in an alley, waiting for Rick with Daryl and you, and soon, they came in, running down the street, on foot. 

Daryl whistled, and they whistled back, that is how you knew it was them. 

Aaron came running looking for Eric, you guessed he was his partner, and not only for this run. 

“Is everyone alright?”, asked Rick

“Yes”, said Maggie, “everything is fine”, it had been a good scare, but you were all fine, and that is what mattered. Aaron came out of the room where Eric was soon after

“Excuse me. Everyone”, he called your attention, he looked at you quickly, and nodded, “Thank you”, he said, “You saved Eric. I owe you. All of you. And I will make sure that debt is paid in full when we get to our community. When we get to Alexandria. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I'd rather not do any more driving tonight. Maybe we can hit the road tomorrow morning”

“That sounds fine, but if we're staying here for the night, you're sleeping over there”, demanded RIck, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes

“You really think we got to do that?”, asked Glenn

“It's a safe play. We don't know you”

“The only way you're gonna stop me from being with him right now is by shooting me”, said Aaron, you smiled. Glenn grabbed Rick, and whispered some things to him. 

“All right”, he said relented.

You didn’t realize how tired you were until everybody started to look for places to sleep for a couple of hours. You went to the second floor, the whole building was crappy, but from there, you could keep watch.

Daryl followed you

“It seems that if I want to sleep I need to be close to you”, he said, surprising you

The night was calm, a bit warm, and the skies were clear.

One of the best things about the apocalypse, if it was any, is that there was no more “pollution” of any kind, not light, or noise pollution. So you could see the stars

“I’m flattered”, you said softly

“You are a good lookout”

“I’m just trying to play my part”, you said softly, he stood by your side, in a kind of balcony, made of steel tubing, like emergency stairs from the old buildings of cities

“Yeah, me too”, he said, you felt his gaze on you, and you tried to look away

“This community…”, you started, “sounds great”

“Yeah”, he said, “if its real”

“I think it is”, you said surely, “and if it's not, we can keep going”, you assured him, “as long as we are together… we will be fine”, you really believed that

“I dunno why…”, he said slowly, “I keep coming back to ya”, you looked at him, Daryl was a man of short words, and despite it sounded a bit bad, he said it so gently, that you understood what he meant, you were drawn to him too, in a way you couldn’t began to understand

“I like it”, you confessed with a shy smile. You shared smiled and looked away immediately, feeling a bit embarrassed, “Whatever happens tomorrow, or any day”, you said, “you can come back to me”, he only hummed approvingly

You both took turns to sleep, without saying much else, sometimes with Daryl, you didn’t need to say anything. 

The very next day you woke up and were ready to leave, you ate canned beans as breakfast, as Aaron was telling everybody that they had manage to have chickens and ate fresh eggs everyday, that sounded amazing, and most of you climbed into the RV, to start the journey to Alexandria

It was a ride for a couple of hours, that wasn’t the issue, you liked road trips, or at least, you used to like them…

You got seated in an area that was supposed to be for eating, and Daryl had gotten inside just behind you, he was going to follow you

“Daryl”, Carol called him, signaling for him to sit with her on the other side of the camper and he did, so you just smiled at Eugene and Tara, who got seated by you side

“Have you ever played Seven-card stud?”, he asked you both, and you immediately engaged with him

“Stack ‘em”, you mocked

“You don’t say it like that, you say rack ‘em when you want to play pool”, teased Tara, you laughed

“So what do I say when I want my cards dealt”

“Deal me in”, says Eugene

“Yeah, if you are from the south”, and a fun argument ensued while you started playing cards 

“Stares and squares. It's aces, cuatros, neeners, and two-eyed jacks”, you chuckled as you tried to understand what he meant

“So there's 14 wild cards? Are you serious?”, asked Tara, who was not impressed, you also believed Eugene was teaching you something where only he could win

“Serious as two copulating dogs”

“Copulating dogs are serious?”, you giggled, and you started laughing again, it looked like you were drunk, laughing at anything funny you said. 

“Look! DC!”, you jumped at the window like a simple tourist, you had never gotten to see the capital of the United States, and even from afar, and in the middle of the apocalypse, it looked great. 

You kept driving, amongst giggles and nervous laughs, the three of you tried to keep it light, but you could tell the environment inside the RV was a bit tense, nobody knew what to expect. 

“We are here”, the camper went to a stop and you came back to your senses, watching over the window. There were some abandoned buildings, you got out of it, to see the promised land, the big walls, and a huge gate.

When you saw the gates and the people there to open them, your social anxiety of old came back, quicker than you expected, and you felt dread… and suddenly it hit you… not because they might kill you, or try to eat you, but because you didn’t really wanted to meet more people, or talk to them… or care for them… you took one last look at your group, and wished you could stay the same as you were now, all eighteen of you.

18, such a nice, round number, could be divided by 9, 6, 3 or 2, you liked those numbers, even. 

You sometimes were certain that you had an undiagnosed OCD to some degree. 

When all of you walked towards those gates, you took a step back, Rick noticed, immediately, as did Daryl

“Hey”, he said softly, “what’s going on?”

“I dunno”, you muttered, you didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want to meet new people, you were getting so tired by this point… 

“It’s fine”, he said softly, “it’s gonna be fine”, you nodded. And took a step forwards, signaling that you were fine, you just had a bit of cold feet.

As you stood there, waiting for them to open the gates, you heard a loud noise that made all of you jump and point your guns, but it was only a possum. Daryl shot it, killing it instantly. You all turned to the man who opened the gates, who seemed… horrified, to say the least.

“We brought diner”, said Daryl, raising up the dead possum, you chuckled

Post chapter notes: I realized… because I rewatched… that I really downplayed those weeks on the road, they were completely feral by the point they met poor Aaron. I would have liked to have a couple more chapters with my eighteen, but… this story must go on, I already had them jumping through hoops, jejeje

taglist! @crazyunsexycool

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL TALKING ABOUT AEMOND TARGARYEN IN S1 AND S2 OF 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON'.

'I THINK HE RECOGNIZES, GOING FORWARD, THAT HE'S CHANGED THINGS FOREVER BETWEEN HIM AND HIS BROTHER — THERE'S NO GOING BACK. IT'S SUCH AN INTERESTING TURNING POINT FOR THOSE CHARACTERS.'

“House of the Dragon” Season 2, Episode 4, ramps up the Westeros civil war at Rook’s Rest, during which Aemond made a shocking move that star Ewan Mitchell says will change things “forever.”

Given the already fractured history between the brothers — which came to a head when Aemond put Aegon in his place in front of the small council earlier in Episode 4 — Mitchell said the Rook’s Rest sequence reflected the “two characters trajectories finally [coming] into an accumulation in the skies.”

HOW HAS THEIR RELATIONSHIP CONTINUED TO DEVOLVE THIS SEASON WITH AEGON TAKING THE CROWN?

"I think Aemond’s in a very similar mind to where we saw him in Season 1, in that he still believes his brother is inferior to rule."

"Aegon was squandering his inheritance whilst he was in some sleazy corner in Flea Bottom, whilst Aemond was in the Red Keep yard training with Criston Cole."

"Day in and day out, he was studying with the masters; he was very much manufacturing himself into this weapon."

"Although Aemond is the second son, he still very much believes that he should be treated as the first."

IN EP 4 WE SEE AEMOND VISIBLY TAKE POWER AWAY FROM AEGON AND PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE. WHAT DO YOU THINK SHIFTED WITHIN AEMOND THAT HE FELT THE CONFIDENCE TO DO SO?

"It’s an accumulation of two things — you get a sense of Aemond and Cole from the first episode that their intent is to manipulate the small council to their needs and what they want."

"I think they’re both in similar minds that they believe that war is inevitable, and you can either wait for it to come to your doorstep or you can get ahead of the curve, so Aemond and Cole wish to act."

"Then you couple that with Aegon’s history and Daemon’s history."

"He was the ringleader to a lot of Aemond’s childhood torment and bullying, and that’s something that Aemond forgives, but he does not forget — that’s probably always in the back of his mind as well."

"You ultimately see him exact that in Episode 4, especially during the council, like “we have to act, and I’m going to have to put you in the place if you’re not with me.”

RIGHT BEFORE CRISTON COLE GETS THERE, AEMOND HAS ALREADY FOUND AEGON, BUT HE WAS IN THE POSITION TO CLICK HIS SWORD BACK. WHAT WAS HE ABOUT TO DO RIGHT BEFORE CRISTON FOUND HIM?

"I think it’s ambiguous — that’s what I love."

"If I give all the answers, people will stop asking the questions."

"I like that debate, I like the theories that the fans strike up."

HOW DOES AEMOND FEEL ABOUT KILLING HIS GREAT AUNT? DOES AEMOND FEEL ANY QUALMS ABOUT THE MOVE? ARE YOU EXPECTING BACKLASH FROM FANS?

"If he feels any sort of regret, it’s certainly something that he will never show, he’ll get hidden behind that hardened facade that Aemond possesses."

"That’s one of the beautiful aspects of playing in the character, you never truly know what Aemond is thinking in any given time."

"[But] you do know that he is thinking."

"He’s not just this mindless sociopath — the cogs are turning behind his eye."

"There’s a very, very dangerous calculative quality to Aemond and [he] picks his moments."

AEMOND HAS A BIT OF A PATTERN WITH TAKING REVENGE WHEN HE SEES THE OPPORTUNITY. HOW INTENTIONAL WAS LUKE'S DEATH?

"Lucerys Velaryon bullied Aemond relentlessly along with his nephews and Aegon growing up."

"I think Aemond had forgiven Luke that he had taken his eye, but he just hadn’t forgiven the fact that Luke got away with it."

"What could have been resolved with with simple words of apology was instead allowed to fester."

"Kids are going to be kids, but it should have been the responsibility of the adults that the the kids find some sort of resolution and there wasn’t — there was no closure."

"That hatred for each other between two characters was allowed to build and build build."

"Ultimately what you see in the skies above Storm’s End is human nature taking its course."

"Aemond did not intentionally mean to hurt Luke, he just wanted to scare him."

IS THERE ANY PART OF AEMOND THAT WISHES HIS AND AEGON'S RELATIONSHIP WAS ANYTHING LIKE JACE AND LUKE'S? OR WAS THE WAY THEY WERE RAISED — IN A LOVELESS, JOYLESS RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN ALICENT AND VISERYS VS RHAENYRA AND HARWIN — MEANT THEY HAD NO SHOT AT A REAL BOND?

"Aemond and Aegon growing up shared a world of hurt, because they were the half of the family that weren’t seen to succeed the kingdom, so Aegon and Aemond were kind of pushed aside, they were neglected by Viserys."

"They never experienced that unconditional love from either Viserys or Alicent, so maybe they don’t know how to show it as well, certainly Aemond doesn’t necessarily know how to show it."

'ALWAYS LIKEN AEGON AND AEMOND AS FREDO CORLEONE AND MICHAEL CORLEONE RESPECTIVELY.'

"Because Fredo should have looked out for Michael, the same way that Aegon should have looked out for Aemond, but instead, Aegon went behind Aemond’s back and conspired against Aemond with the help of his nephews."

"Aemond does feel a hate to his enemies, but when it’s your own brother that goes behind your back and backstabbed you, that hatred is even deeper than someone who’s supposed to protect you and supposed to look out for you."

[uchihabbynic]

Trafalgar Law x Crewmate! Fem Reader - Caught

Warning: NSFW, porn with v minimal plot, (m) self pleasuring, Law is forever a mess with his emotions but we love to see it 🤧 🖤

As the journey to Wano Country drew near, Law allowed his crew to indulge in a bit of fun to reset and recharge before their next voyage. Lately, Law had been so frazzled in your presence, letting the taboo that is his crush consume him in ways he wasn't accustomed to. Women were usually a non factor for the Captain of the Heart Pirates but he’d known you for quite some time now and you were practically his right hand; A position that wasn’t to be taken lightly and not easily given. 

The level of trust the Captain had in you was unmatched and everyone around the two of you could see the vastly different ways Law interacted with you vs. the rest of the crew. Some would chalk it up to longtime friendship, but his crew knew him better than anyone and could easily see through the lingering stares, the gentle but unnecessary touches - even the way in which Law spoke with much more care towards you. Granted, this had only been a recent occurrence but he wasn’t nearly as sneaky with his feelings as he thought he was. 

The icing on top of the cake was when a pipe leak was discovered in your sleeping quarters and Law didn’t hesitate to offer up his bedroom - just temporarily, of course. When the suggestion was made in front of the crew, you happily agreed to stay with him but this didn’t come without the snickers and giggles from the other crew mates; Bepo being the ringleader. Law roared at his subordinates to go make themselves useful as he felt his cheeks rapidly heat up, embarrassed that your shared proximity had turned his loyal steadfast crew into an all out circus of hoots and hollers. 

This was already coming off of Law feeling unlike himself all week. It was bad enough that he began to think about you in every decision that he made - every time he managed to lay his head on his pillow and even the moment he opened his eyes in the early hours of the morning, you were his first and last thoughts. But, just 3 days prior to you moving into Law’s bedroom, he could have sworn he heard the faint cries of his name roll off your sweet tongue between the cold, metal walls separating your quarters from his. 

At first, he was sure it was a dream after having nodded out with his face in a book but those faint, melodic moans were oh so real and indeed kept him up all night. Trafalgar cursed himself, feeling shameful that he'd begun to look at you differently, think of you … differently; letting the sinful thoughts he normally kept buried in the innermost crevice of his brain, come flying to the forefront of his mind. 

Frustrated, Law began to assume you were teasing him on purpose with the way you’d parade around the bedroom with nothing on but his yellow Heart Pirates hoodie that just barely covered the top of your plush thighs. When he first noticed you’d stolen his hoodie one evening before dinner, his mouth practically hit the floor, not expecting to see you wearing his clothes. He felt his heart drop to his ass, eyes shifting nervously when he saw the way your curves stretched the hoodie in all the right places. 

Needless to say, the man had been a flustered mess all week. 

Fortunately for Law, you decided to join the rest of the crew for a night out at a local tavern giving him the time and space needed to recompose himself. He was a Captain and your respected leader. What did he look like indulging in perverted childlike fantasies? 

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. 

As you were preparing to go out for the evening, Law stepped outside your shared quarters to give you the privacy you needed to get dressed, however; when you made your grand outfit reveal, the Captain swallowed harshly - throat feeling painfully dry and constricted. You practically knocked the air from his lungs when he saw the way in which the ribbed bodycon material clung to your hips or even the way your cleavage spilled out the front - only to be contained by thin straps that hung off the shoulder. 

“You’re going out wearing that?” Law frowned, examining you from head to toe, awkwardly clearing his throat, realizing that his question came off way more forward and controlling than he intended for it to. 

“Mhm.” you responded casually as you ran your fingers through your freshly curled hair. 

“Something wrong with my outfit?” you asked back, slightly annoyed at Law’s tone as you turned to face him, letting him get an even clearer view of your fit. 

Law immediately shifted his head to the floor, hiding his eyes under the brim of his hat. How stupid! He thought to himself.

“Course not. I-” Law stumbled over his words trying to make sense of what he meant to say, in a futile attempt to not make an even bigger fool of himself. “Bars can be unsafe you know, just … be careful is all.” Law managed as he regained his stoic demeanor. 

“Thanks, Dad-” you said sarcastically, but instantly covered your mouth at the snippy comment that flew out at your superior without even a second thought. “I mean, Captain.” you quickly corrected yourself, nervous that you’d be scolded for being a smartass. 

Law’s words got caught in his throat as the nickname dripped from your tongue. His mind was clearly in the gutter so much so, he glossed over the fact that you were being a bit too sassy for his liking. Law just grumbled and made his way to his desk, burying himself into his studies, the way one always does on a Friday night if you’re Trafalgar Law. 

As much as he convinced himself that this was about your safety, a nagging, intrusive voice in the back of his head decided to surface. 

What if someone else had caught your attention? 

With the way you looked in your dress, there was no way that other men wouldn’t take notice and that didn’t sit right with Law. He wasn’t your boyfriend so what could he really say or do besides sulk and drown in his own pity that he wasn't man enough to ask you out himself and accompany you to the tavern. 

12:30am struck the clock and Law had been alone, isolated in his bedroom for some time now. Hunched over his desk with only a small warm-hued lamp to provide light; there were papers, highlighters and books scattered about as this was certainly not an unusual scene for the Doctor. Gray irises slowly disappeared under tired, heavy lids as he found himself zoning out more than usual.

As he leaned back in his desk chair for a break, his mind took a sudden turn. Sounds of your needy whimpers and cries rang out in Trafalgar’s ears, replaying the way you desperately called out his name a few nights prior. Law could feel the room closing in on him. His button up shirt felt a bit hot and his signature spotted jeans felt more constricted than usual. With a quick glance down, it was evident that he’d gotten turned on from the thought of your fingers being knuckles deep inside of your sweet cunt, pleasuring yourself, mere feet away from his bedroom. 

Law sat back and exhaled deeply trying to calm himself and the primal urges he often suppressed. However, he’d been so overstimulated; truly drunk off you these past few days that he needed to relieve this pent up stress. It was slowly bubbling for days to come, often having been ignored, but the way his cock was now painfully pushing against the rough fabric of his jeans, Law knew something needed to be done. 

Just one time wouldn’t hurt. 

Law decided to peek over at the clock once more. He knew that the crew would be out for at least 30 minutes more and figured a quick stress reliever would do the trick. 

The Doctor fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, instantly shoving them down just far enough to release his strained cock. With a sigh, Law palmed the thick outline of his member, savoring the feeling of the soft cotton providing friction against his swollen tip.  

For once, Law completely let himself go as he rested his head back on the comfortable leather pad of his chair. Pulling his cock out completely, he gave it one slow, experimental stroke, hissing from the contact. 

He immediately got to work, spitting on his hand and placing firm tattooed fingers around the base of his cock, stroking himself at a steady pace as he thought about you being on your knees in front of him in that pretty little dress you wore out tonight. How sweet it would be for those luscious lips to be wrapped around the tip of his cock, suckling with such force and intent that his eyes rolled to the back of his head. 

Law’s breathing began to increase and quiet grunts left his lips as he let his head lull backwards, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack, fully embracing this much needed alone time. Law wrapped his fingers around his cock a bit tighter as he picked up the pace, fucking himself with his hand. Images of your mascara-run tear stained face filled his mind as he envisioned that his warm, wet hand was your mouth sucking and slurping fervently as he shoved himself down your throat. 

“Fuck … keep going, love. Just like that.” He panted out, desperate whines finding their way past his slightly chapped lips. Law’s chest heaved as he began pumping faster, bringing himself closer to his release. 

“God, Y/N-ya, you suck this cock so well …” The words sensually left his mouth with each pump.

Wet squelching sounds bounced off the metal walls as Law mindlessly fucked his hand, wishing it was your sweet mouth. He so desperately wanted to shove his cock down your throat, mercilessly fucking your face and release his creamy seed all over your delicious tits. 

His vision began to blur as he found himself on the edge of his orgasm, mindlessly using his other hand to fondle his balls, tugging gently while simultaneously focusing on the tip. The pleasure was overwhelming and Law knew he wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn’t often he relieved himself so he knew the load would be massive. 

The pornographic sounds of his pleasure echoed in the metal room as he struggled to keep his grunts under wraps. Your name now tumbling from his lips like a wicked chant with every pump. Beads of sweat gathered around his hairline, causing some of his jet black locks to stick to the sides of his face. With just a few pumps left, he knew that his hand would soon be filled with his milky essence. 

As Law brought himself to the cusp of orgasm, there was suddenly a knock at the door causing him to be distracted from his last few strokes. Startled, he released the grip on his cock but it started to involuntarily twitch, spurting tons of thick cum all over his hand and his lap. Law’s unexpected hands free orgasm hit him so suddenly, his fist flew to his mouth biting down, to ensure there would be no sounds made as he rode out his high. 

“O-one moment!” He called out to the guest on the other side of the door, praying that his shaky breath wasn't obvious. Law scowled and scrambled to find tissue underneath the piles of books on his desk, desperate to clean up the evidence of his arousal and pull his pants back up. 

As Law hurriedly zipped his jeans, he walked to the door casually, hoping that his delay wouldn’t raise any red flags. To his surprise, you were standing on the other side with a lust blown expression on your face.

“Everything alright?” you asked hesitantly, hoping that the flush on your face would be written off as too much alcohol and not the fact that you’d been listening to Law pleasure himself for the last 10 minutes. Your legs were like jelly, your mind was clouded, and the arousal that pooled between your thighs was fierce as you were sure your ears didn’t deceive you.  

“Yes, all good here.” Law managed to keep a composed poker face, now stepping aside to let you inside of your shared bedroom.

 “How was your night out? The crew behave themselves?” Law did his best to keep the casual conversation flowing. He was slightly fidgety because he had no idea how long you’d been standing outside of the door before you actually decided to knock.

“Crew was fine.” You said casually, as you stepped inside and examined the bedroom only to spot a balled up tissue left in the corner of Law’s desk. 

“How about you? Good evening?” You initially figured it’d be best to play dumb. You knew Law was an anxious man and being put on the spot was something he hated the most but with the performance he just put on, there was no way you’d let an opportunity such as this slip by. 

Law plopped down on the bed, rubbing his face, exhausted from the orgasm that washed over him moments before you came in. “Yeah, I uh, caught up on some late night reading … you know how that is.” Law was lying straight through his teeth because why would he admit the truth, right?

Suddenly, you kicked off your heels without saying a single word in response. You slowly brought your body across the bedroom until you were standing directly in front of Law, who now had a confused look on his face. 

“You know Captain, if you wanted it … you could have just asked.” You said softly with a small smile. You blamed the alcohol for your boldness as you forcefully gripped the front of Law’s muscular shoulders and pushed him on his back. 

Law’s eyes practically bulged out of his head, a look of pure horror ran across his face as he began to put two and two together. 

You heard. You heard everything. 

As Law tried to process a million emotions a minute; embarrassment, shame, guilt, all at once - suddenly a look of calm caressed his features. Eerily calm. He realized that he was exposed and that there was nothing he could do to deny this so he in fact, decided to play along. A sly smirk grazed his lips. 

“Y/N-ya…” the deep, gruff tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine as you listened to him say your name with so much lust and desire. 

“Yes, Captain?” you said sweetly and batted your eyes innocently as you began to crawl onto his lap, straddling him in your tiny dress, red lacy thong peeking through.

“Show me exactly what you were doing in your room the other night…” Law demanded, his voice sounding sexy and smooth like silk as he looked up directly into your eyes. 

“And don’t you dare play dumb with me…”

tags: @jordyn-degas @unsuretater-simp 🖤

[wobblesthecowgirl]

I'm No O’Driscoll!

Chapter One: Rescue Mission

Tags: Arthur Morgan x Femreader, enemies to lovers, O'Driscoll reader, game plot, Arthur doesn't have tuberculosis, eventual smut, age difference, 18+, mild gore

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This is my first rdr2 ff! This is also my first time posting ff on tumblr so I hope it's set up nicely! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! I hope to make this a long series.

Chapter Two

Despite being a part of the gang, Y/n hated the O’Driscoll’s. Except for Kieran Duffy, who acted like her brother, like her partner in crime. Which was how she found herself in Horseshoe Overlook after following the Van Der Linde Gang.

She used her binoculars to get a better look. It was nighttime, so the only light she had was the moon and the warm glow of the campfire. She pinpointed Kieran, who was sitting on the grass with his hands tied behind a tree. He looked malnourished and weak. The anger upon seeing his sorry state only worsened for the woman, as she sat to think of a plan. She groaned in annoyance. This wasn’t what she usually did. I’m a sniper, she thought to herself, not a stealthy hero.

There were too many people around for her to use her actual skills, so her best bet was to sneak behind the tree and cut him loose without cause a scene. Shoving her binoculars in her satchel and making her way over with her knife in hand, she was able to get to the tree.

“Kieran!” Y/n whisper shouted, causing the poor man to jump out of his skin. He turned his head around, and his eyes widened when he saw who it was.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Getting you, dumbass.” She already started cutting at the rope, which was too thick for her knife.

“Leave me! This gang is real scary.” He pleaded, “If they catch you, you’ll end up like me…or worse!”

She ignored his pleas for her to abandon him and focused on getting the rope loose. She was halfway there, the rope almost freeing him, when she got caught.

“Hey!” The voice was low and gruff. Y/n snapped her head up to see a tall, broad man with a beaten cowboy hat on, pointing a pistol right at her. She moved away from the tree slowly, but before she could make a run for it, he shot her in the thigh. She instantly fell to the ground, screaming in agony as she held the wound in hopes to stop the bleeding. The fabric of her jeans didn’t help ease the pain as it was now sticking to her wound.

The man ran towards her, pulling her up harshly and propping her up against the tree next to Kieran, who was calling out to her, as she was tied up. He was right, she was now in the exact same position he was in. 

The man who shot her was glaring as others from the gang showed up. 

“Dutch!” The man called out for the ringleader, who jogged over.

“What is it, Arthur?” 

The man she now knew as Arthur gestured at her sorry state before replying, “We have another O’Driscoll, I caught her trying to free our friend Kieran.” 

Everyone was staring at her whimpering state. Her hair was messy from the journey over, her black button up top had been untucked from her jeans, her satchel and belt were barely intact, and her wound was only getting worse. 

“Well now, she doesn’t seem like that much of a threat!” Dutch chuckled, earning a glare from Y/n.

“You shot me!” She hissed at Arthur, who seemed surprised by her feisty nature despite bleeding out; she knew it was a risky move, especially as she was becoming lightheaded. 

Arthur pointed at her, his eyebrows furrowed, “Of course I did. You snuck onto our camp, trying to free our prisoner!” He then turned to a woman with black hair in a messy bun.

“Abigail, will you please tend to her wound. Can’t interrogate her if she dies on us.” 

Abigail nodded her head as he thanked her, and she soon returned with medical supplies. Everyone kept a close eye on her, hatred in their eyes. An older man with a grey hair spoke up to Dutch, “Are you sure it’s wise to have another O’Driscoll on camp? Having too many may cause a riot.” 

“I think this is a great opportunity!” The gang’s leader said, “She came all this way for him, so they must care for one another. We can use that against them when getting the information we need on Colm.” 

Y/n’s eyes were going fuzzy, and Kieran’s cries were starting to sound far away. Abigail made her way over with the med kit; she seemed to be talking to the wounded O’Driscoll but was ignored as she began to pass out. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When she awoke again, the sunlight blinded her, and every inch of her body ached. Her arms were cramped, her neck snore, but the biggest pain was her thigh, which felt like it had been beaten and set on fire. She looked down to see the wound had been disinfected and sewn up, and the fabric had been cut a little to get to it, leaving her thigh exposed. 

“Y/n! You’re awake! Oh, I was so worried!” Kieran’s voice caught her attention, who sighed with relief; he was stood up, most likely to stretch his legs. 

“I’m sorry.” Were her first words to him, she stretched her legs out in front of her and winced as a sharp stabbing pain went up her leg. 

“No, I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got shot, and now you’re a hostage too.” He also apologised, a sympathetic look on his face which matched that of a kicked puppy.

“Hey, don’t go crying now.” She warned him, rolling her eyes like she always did. He nodded his head but looked away, probably to go against her request. However, her attention was diverted to the very man who shot her, as he strode over to her. 

“You’re awake.” He stated, standing in front of her, making her look up at him from her seating position. He must’ve been at least six two and built like a brick house. Either way, she wasn’t winning a physical fight against him any time soon. 

“I appear to be.” She stated, deciding to be cocky. If she was going to die, she wanted to die with her dignity and sarcasm. He clicked his tongue, clearly not impressed with her quick remark. 

“I wouldn’t get smart if I were you. Someone in your position can’t afford to be arrogant.” He folded his arms as she scoffed, shaking her head.

“My position? You mean shot in the leg and tied up? If anything, I think this calls for sarcastic remarks towards the very man who put me in this predicament.” 

“I hope you talk this much when I ask you about Colm.” He sighed, rubbing is eyes and placing one hand on his hip. She went quiet, realising being shot and tied up were probably the start of a long, antagonising death. 

“Well don’t get quiet now.” Arthur snapped, but she looked away from him, receiving a small groan from the older man. 

“We can start of easy.” He began, “What’s your name?” 

Still facing away from him, she replied, “Why should you get the honours of knowing that?” 

“I can see that wasn’t an easy question.” The irritation was laced in his words as she refused to cooperate. She looked up at him again, who had an impatient look on his face. It seemed he wasn’t going to leave till she answered.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” She mocked, the same irritation in her words. He shot me, why should I make this easy for him?

“Are you a child?” He scoffed, his eyes narrowing but still answered her, “Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”

She hummed after hearing his name, and then fell silent. The wind picked up, causing Y/n’s hair to get messier, and creating goosebumps along her skin. The man sighed before walking towards Kieran who instantly cowered. Her once bored attitude was no more, now she was on high alert.

“Look,” Arthur began, “I ain’t gonna hit you, I don’t hit ladies. But I do hit men, and you clearly care for this one. If you don’t start talking, he’s gonna get hurt, and you don’t want him to get hurt, do you?” 

She watched as Arthur swung his leg back and kicked her friend hard on the shin, causing him to crouch down in pain and wriggle his bound wrists. 

“Alright! It’s Y/n L/n! You asshole!” She spat at him, trying to get the man away from Kieran. Arthur smirked and made his way back over to the woman. Oh, how I would love to smack that smug look off his face. 

“There we go, that’s much better. Well Miss L/n, you wanna tell me where Colm O’Driscoll is hiding?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t care to share that type of information with me.”

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing a word she said. All she could do was nod her head, not bothering to develop her answer further. Arthur shrugged his shoulders, “Suit yourself. The longer you put off telling us, the longer you go without food.” He stated before turning around and walking off back to his tent, leaving Y/n to glare daggers at his back.

“This is real bad. I’ve gone days without food, I can’t take it much longer.” Kieran made sure Arthur was gone before her conversed with her. She tried moving her leg again, but the pain was unbearable.

 

“Just you wait Kieran. We are going to get out of here, and I’ll make sure I snipe that man right between his eyes. Whatever you do, don’t tell them anything. We won’t be able to go back, we’d be hung for selling Colm out.” 

Kieran rested the back of his head against the tree, looking dead ahead.

“I don’t think I want to go back.”

“We don’t have a choice,” She exhaled, “We would be hunted down if we tried to be lone wolves. We are bound to the O’Driscoll gang till we die. Let’s just make sure our death is merciful.” 

With that, the two captives fell silent, watching the rest of the campers go about their day: eating, doing chores, and laughing with one another as the days ticked on. 

[topoeiaz]

Decrescendo (CoD) John Price x OC

18+ blog • minors dni

content: fluff, hurt/comfort, smut

warning: military inaccuracies, human trafficking, implied sexual trauma

word count: 30.2k

summary: Her personal mission of infiltrating a human-trafficking ring had been a success and an opportunity to escape the leader presented itself when her colleagues raided their base. As she readjusted to her normal life, flames are kindled and tears are shed. She had found her way back home in the people she held dear and she awaits the day her sister would come home too.

a/n: so. I got lured into the cod fandom through good smut writing. fr truly changed the smut scene for me ngl. also, despite the title, there's nothing musical in this lol. and I realised while proofreading that the romance isn't as focussed on as I thought it was, woops. happy reading!!

cod masterlist • ao3

It was a noisy night.

The assignment was straightforward; infiltrate the target organisation’s base, preferably capture the human-trafficking ringleader alive, and hack into their system to download their records. Nothing new, nothing surprising. So why was it, the boys wondered, that they had found themselves struck confused at the scene before them?

The mission flowed seamlessly, there was nothing of note as they took down the two-story hideout’s members guarding the boss in his office. They had lost a couple of their own – as inevitable as it was upsetting – but they had eventually managed to reach their destination at the top floor. Eyeing the team to gauge their preparedness to tackle the final room, Captain John Price gave a solid nod after his orders before he slammed the locked doorknob open. Immediately bullets came barrelling through the wood, as expected, and the boys waited for a moment of pause before rushing into the room and assuming positions to cut the corners and aim at those who had a gun pointed to them, save for the man in the back, middle of the room, in front of the of the office table.

A feminine voice shrieked fearfully as the organisation’s men collapsed one by one. Veterans in their skills, none of Price’s men had taken a fatal shot by the time the battle died down. That ended up with the ringleader coming into a faceoff with the British S.A.S. men, the rest of the Price’s team settling themselves outside the room to watch for any stray attacks. It was only then, that the boys had noticed the woman in the room, stood behind their target who had an arm out in front of her protectively as his other hand held a gun trained onto Price. Intel had told them that the leader had a woman, but they had also been briefed that he would be in a meeting during their attack. They had not expected for the unnamed lady to grace them with her presence that evening.

“Claudio Agustine. You’re outnumbered, I suggest you surrender this instance.”

Agustine scoffed with a manic grin etched onto his lips. “You’ve come here for my records, no? Unfortunately for you, I’ve reset the computers in this building so you can’t access the data here.”

The boys cursed under their breaths when they realised that they really do have to capture Agustine alive now so that they didn’t end this assignment empty-handed and for naught. One of them, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, spoke into his radio to update the team on their situation and, understandably, received the new order to keep Agustine alive.

At Soap’s callout to Kate Laswell’s alias, the tearful woman cowering behind Agustine perked up her ears. The flag patched onto the unexpected attackers’ uniform and their overall familiar design had kindled hope in her at first glance, but now with the confirmation that the men operated under Laswell’s command, she was confident that she had been blessed by the Grace. Her thoughts remained locked in her though, and she easily let none of it slip past her frightened expression and trembling figure. Now, to find an opening to take her chance…

Thinking that he was in the superior standing to propose an exchange, Agustine continued, “you take me in, that I cannot escape, but you must also take Tara.” Tara, the woman whom he loves, made a sound of surprised confusion in the back of her throat, one that she did not have to fake, as she snapped her head up to look at her ‘protector’. “You treat her well – the best she deserves – and let me keep her beside me at all times.”

Ah, Tara realised, he really was head over heels for her – and selfish, of course. Once again, her disdain for the man went unknown as she batted her eyelash up at him like a lovesick fool. “Oh, Claude! How could I ever stay away from you even in these circumstances!”

Baffled at her breathless tone as she sobbed pathetically at the idea of parting with her lover, the men unanimously thought of her to be a bimbo, unknowingly playing into her success.

Price corresponded with Laswell this time, giving a slight instinctual nod at her response despite her inability to see it. “Alright, Agustine. You get your wish. Drop your weapons and hands up where I can see ‘em.”

Agustine, always a difficult person to work with due to his own faults, opted not to let go of his gun but instead, clicked the safety on and aimed it at the ceiling with his hand up in a ‘white-flag’ hold. His other hand went up to caress Tara’s cheek lovingly, his eyes gleaming with adoration – and specks of apprehension at his situation – as he gazed upon her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart. I promise that everything will be just fine, yeah?”

He had loosened his grip on the gun; now was her chance. Just as the men took a step forward to begin apprehending Agustine, Tara moved. Speed unmatched and unexpected to everyone, her movements were a blur. One moment, the couple seemed like they were sinking down the Titanic together, helpless but in love, and the next, Tara had flipped Agustine onto the floor, body facing up, and she had his gun trained onto his head as she stood above him. Her face went blank, an expression she had befriended in the darkness of the nights for the past half a year; gone were the affections she had been faking for the man under her, who had his hands around his neck where she had struck earlier as he wheezed.

Hence, the stupefied looks on the boys’ face at the turn of events that the mission had taken.

“Swe- et- hea-” a sharp gasp, “-rt?”

Tara’s eyes narrowed. She flicked off the safety switch in the gun she held – hers, for now – and trailed its aim onto the floor beside his head before pulling the trigger and returning her aim onto him. The sudden single sound was blaring enough to cut off Agustine’s wheezes for a quick moment, disbelief clear in his eyes as he stilled in place.

“Call me that again and the next one goes into your eye.”

Managing to snap out into clarity for a moment, Price started, “we need him alive, lo- uh… Tara.”

Her eyes didn’t leave their sights on her ‘lover’ and a sardonic grin made its way to her lips. “Fret not, sir. I’ll make sure not to hit his brain.”

Understanding was beginning to cross Agustine’s features and Tara was undeterred by the hurt and anger flickering in his expression.

Remembering his concealed knife, Tara’s eyes flickered to his right hip and in a split moment, shot at where it was attached to his strap with easy precision. Ignoring his cries, she brought a foot out to kick away the sheath and its dagger towards the group of men who were still watching with a total loss of grip at the situation.

When Agustine went to clutch at his hip, Tara feigned sympathy and crooned at him. “Aww, did I somehow graze you, darling? Are you in pain?” Venom dripped from her mocking tone and Agustine gulped – with immense difficulty – at the unbridled disdain she now let loose in her façade. She huffed when she received no response and turned to the military men instead.

One of them, the big guy on the left sporting a skull mask, had his gun targeted on her and she silently respected his suspicion of her. Price stood slightly in front of the rest of the squad and so, she decided to address him. “Sergeant Levina Riven, previously under the direct orders of Captain Joshua Mavers. Likely presumed dead following my failed evac on the assignment to infiltrate Agustine’s West Manford base early this February.”

Their doubts were obviously etched onto their skins. Price relayed Tara’s – Levina’s – claimed identity to Laswell, along with his description of her appearance.

“Sounds like her. I’ll have Mavers confirm her identity when she’s here. Stay vigilant.”

The boys narrowed their eyes in suspicion to which she only responded with an innocent tilt of her head. Her gun remained unmoving as she kept Agustine in her peripherals.

“Right. We’ll have to keep you in custody until we get back to HQ. Same thing, drop your weapon and hands up.”

Levina frowned for a moment as she turned back to Agustine, who was now fuming at her deception, before clicking on the safety and tossing her gun towards the men. Now, not being held at gunpoint and under a false sense of security at the thought that he could overpower the woman, Agustine raised his torso and reached for Levina’s nearest leg. However quick his actions were, her senses were sharper and she clocked his incoming attack before he could touch her. She brought a leg up and slammed it down onto his thighs mercilessly, her stiletto heels digging into the flesh down to its hilt as blood splattered out. Agustine let out a pained scream, again when she lifted her foot up to expose his wound, and tears escaped him uncontrollably as he tentatively clutched at his leg.

Unwavering, Levina only clicked her tongue at the ruined state of her heels before giving the astounded men her full attention. She obediently offered her hands out towards them with a saccharine smile playing on her lips. “You’re free to arrest me now.”

In the discord of sobs and curses, bathed in the calm haze of the moon, Levina’s eyes gleamed devilishly.

The men wasted no time in apprehending both their targets after that. Upon the failure of salvaging anything from the computers in the building, the group made it back to the outskirts of the base where they were then picked up by their ride.

Levina spent the entire ride with her eyes locked onto the floor, deep in thought, as she tuned out Agustine’s whimpers – the medic had patched him up during the flight – and the whirring of the helicopter. No one had tried engaging her in a conversation, much to her relief, and exhaustion carried through the air.

The sun was peeking over in the horizon as they began to land. Soon enough, everyone was making their way out of the vehicle to greet the rest of the team holding the fort down. Levina stayed amongst the back of the group and watched as Laswell said something to Agustine before ordering her men to take him to his cell. She caught Laswell’s eyes when the latter skimmed her gaze over the team and she was ordered to come forward. Laswell hummed in acknowledgement when she stated her name and rank before looking off to the side to beckon Mavers forward. His eyes took Levina in with heightened suspicion, trailing over her features, before he nodded resolutely in confirmation.

“Sergeant Riven!” The aforementioned woman straightened up further. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

The apprehension in Laswell only cleared up slightly as she regarded her returned subordinate. She then called for the higher-ups to join her for a debrief, which Levina was to follow along, and dismissed the others before leading the way to her office.

Once again, Laswell called Levina forward while the others settled themselves around the room.

“State your reason as to your role in Agustine’s ranks.”

Levina’s hands were still tied behind her as a precaution so she couldn’t give her salute and started explaining immediately. “Ma’am. My team had been tasked with the assignment to infiltrate Agustine’s base in West Manford early this February. We managed to retrieve only half the data when Agustine’s backup arrived. I was separated from my team during the evac following their ambush in the woods and managed to escape to the riverside with my radio busted. I came across a town after a few days and stayed there under the generosity of an old lady who had come across me. The town had little to no technology so there was no way of establishing comms with HQ.

“I met Agustine in the pub there one night and made the impulsive decision to settle for a long-con and flirt my way into his ranks to gain intel on his organisation. By the third month, I was allowed into his most confidential of meetings and I now have the locations of his operations, the identity of the big-name buyers, and the partners of his association to my knowledge. It was only recently that I began planning an escape but it seemed that I have been beaten to it with the arrival of your team.”

An eyebrow raised in respect for Levina’s efforts, Laswell nodded approvingly. “We’ll get someone to curate your intel in a moment. Meanwhile, it is odd that you have chosen to work alone just to take down Agustine. Why made you decide to avenge your loss?”

Hesitance shone in Levina with the way she kept silent for a moment. Knowing there was no way out of answering her superior, however, she eventually cleared the air.

“Sergeant Richard Shane had recognised the victims in the records as missing persons during the initial assignment. He was scrolling down the list of the victim’s pictures when I came across…” her breath caught in her throat as her memory of that moment before they got ambushed flickered in her mind, “my sister.”

Laswell’s eyes softened with sympathy and Levina didn’t have to look around to know that the others were looking at her similarly.

“My deepest condolences. We have started tracking down the buyers whose identities were included in the victim’s records but we have not come across another ‘Riven’ amongst the ones that we have managed to obtain.” Laswell offered her a reassuring smile, “rest assured, Sergeant. With the intel you will provide, we will track her down eventually.”

Levina willed her voice to not crack as she replied, “yes, Ma’am.”

Laswell had Price release the rope tying her hands together and she flexed them to get the blood rushing once again.

She stayed even as Laswell then began to debrief the current assignment, staying silent as she listened. Once they had been dismissed, Laswell led her to a transcriber who would take note of her 4 months’ worth of knowledge of Agustine’s meetings. The task ended up taking hours and before she knew it, she had missed breakfast. Coming to save her grumbling stomach, however, came in the form of Sergeant Ardour Crawley, her previous – was she still to be under Captain Mavers’ command? – teammate.

Word had spread of the return of a presumed killed-in-action colleague that morning and Mavers had confirmed Levina’s presence earlier. Crawley had noticed her absence in the canteen though and took it upon himself to save a sandwich for the woman. They ended up sitting on a bench overlooking the men in training as Crawley caught her up on the past over half a year’s updates and gossips while she munched on her food.

“… and that group of four became known as the team that were called upon whenever the military wanted to get. Shit. Done.” Crawley punctuated for dramatic emphasis which earned a hum of understanding from Levina. “I’m glad they were the ones who ended up rescuing you, they’re a capable lot after all.”

In his Grace, he didn’t confront her on her lack of words and wandering gaze. He was used to her noncommittal hums which told him that her attention was still on him, but he did get concerned when her only response thus far had been an “oh…” when he had told her of the demise of the rest of her original team over the past months – a few had died in that same assignment in West Manford while the rest met their ends in other missions.

To his dismay, Crawley had to leave soon enough to return to his duties. His worry placated slightly when Levina shot him a reassuring smile, but her sudden expressiveness had also brought upon more concern for her well-being. So, with a final sad smile – he would’ve patted her back if not for the way she had flinched when he hugged her in greeting earlier – he left her to her thoughts.

Levina had a few hours to spend before she had to meet with Laswell again after lunch. “To talk about your next steps,” the Station Chief had said, “I’ll let you think through it until then.”

Prior to her unexpected rescue from Agustine, Levina had only started to think about her  preliminary strategies as to how to escape Agustine’s clutches and relate her intel back to the military. She had not thought further onto what she would do if she managed to make it back to HQ. Now that she was here, in all her glory of trauma and weariness, she could only think of resting her psyche after seven months of acting like a bimbo; to go home and reassure her father of her ‘alive’ status, despite the news of her death that had arrived in a phone call all those months ago.

She didn’t doubt Laswell’s humanity – surely she’ll be willing to give her at least a few days off? In the off-chance that she wouldn’t be granted time off, however, Levina had no qualms in retraining into a skilful S.A.S. soldier as that was what she was good at. So, perhaps the question isn’t about what she would do now that she was safely away from Agustine; instead, she had to ask herself: will she ever feel back to herself again?

Somewhere during the seven months of operating as a different person, she had lost a part herself. The mental exhaustion that came with keeping up her pretence as an incapable-of-thought woman, whose personality was only being pretty, meant the occasional thought in her mind to revert back to that state of being. Moreover, she was tired of putting up animated expressions that had once charmed Agustine, and now it took a lot of effort to even put on an expression that was something other than ‘blank’. Long, had she numbed herself to listening to the heartless chatter of Agustine’s men as they talked about their business. She feared losing herself to the extent that she grew to stop caring – she felt palliated to know that her fear at least told her of the remaining humanity still left in her.

Then, there was also physical affection. Agustine had been a physical man; after all, it took only a couple of weeks before she became a regular in his bed.

When she first made up her mind to conduct the long-con against Agustine, one of the things that fought against the decision had been the idea of becoming a prostitute for the disgusting man. One factor had been the fact that she had been a virgin prior to Agustine, and that she had wanted to save it for a more respectable man – a hopeless romantic she had been, perhaps even now in the depths of her heart. There had never been someone in her life who she got to call her lover. As a result, all the romantic affections she had ever received would forever be associated with that sorry excuse of a man, at least until the next time she found someone she decided was worthy to love her. She wasn’t an active pursuer of love, though – despite her dream to fall in love one day – so it was uncertain just how long it would be until she could escape associating romantic and physical affections with Agustine. That is, if there was even someone out there who would want her, broken and lost as she feels.

Levina was snapped out of her thoughts when she felt a presence in the space next to her, on the bench. She turned to the figure and regarded the stranger with a questioning gaze – it seemed that for the meantime, as her expressions worked on themselves to start showing up again, her emotions have settled on communicating with her eyes – his face familiar amongst the men that had a showdown with Agustine earlier.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or more commonly, ‘Gaz’.” Gaz extended a hand out and Levina offered her hand only after a beat of tentative silence.

Still mindful of her manners, she managed to speak in a quiet voice. “Sergeant Levina Riven.”

The reflection of her empty shell was a huge contrast to the adrenaline-filled woman Gaz had met earlier, but he only kept that thought in himself as sympathy washed over him. He had seen his fair share of soldiers with trauma, and he only dreaded to think what Levina had to go through to stay by Agustine’s side under an act.

Kind soul that he is, he offered an unopened bottle of water to her. “One of the hotter Autumn days, the forecast said. You’ve been out here for a while and I don’t see any sources of hydration around you.”

In the same low voice, she muttered a “thank you” and took the bottle, untwisting the cap before taking only a small sip of it despite the intense heat that she had not even registered. Gaz knew better than to force her to drink more, a small win is a win, nonetheless. He, too, had been watching the group of soldiers’ training from another angle, sleep escaping him despite having only returned from an assignment, and he had grown perturbed when he had noticed Levina’s unmoving form for the past hour or so. Thus, there he was, after battling with himself to decide whether to leave the woman alone or to come up and attempt befriending her.

And befriend her, he will, for he had decided to do so.

“Say, Riven,” a questioning hum came from the girl, “if the British Army were to engage in a battle with twenty thousand emus, who do you think would win?”

A pause.

Levina turned away from her stare into the air to lock eyes with Gaz, only to be met with utter seriousness in his face. She stared wordlessly for a moment, uncertainty ringing in her head at the topic of conversation, before facing forward once again with a simple mutter of “emu” leaving her lips.

“What?!” Incredulous at her opinion, genuine disbelief crossed his expression. “Surely we’ve learnt from the Australia’s Emu War! There’s no way they’d win again.”

She gave a shrug. “Who’s to say they didn’t learn from the war too?”

Gaz prided himself in managing to get Levina to speak out an entire sentence, at the expense of learning of her opposing opinion in their – almost meaningless – debate.

“Okay, that’s fair, didn’t think that way. But they don’t even have hands!”

Another shrug, “fast legs.”

Cue their light-hearted discourse over the feasibility of winning over emus in a hypothetical war setting. Levina mostly responded with short quips, a shrug, or a hum, which didn’t discourage Gaz at all, remaining as patient as ever as he led the conversation. The topic somehow switched from emus to other animals, to the comparison of a gun against a sword as a more reliable weapon, to the flaws of human evolution that has led to the current state of the world.

Needless to say, they were quick to arrive at that stage of their friendship where the questions got too real and they began considering the likelihood of human extinction within the next couple of generations.

Levina appreciated the breath of fresh air that Gaz had brought with him. For so long now, her only person of correspondence was Agustine and Agustine alone, that meant that she had forgotten what it was like to chat nonsense with someone. Keeping up with the conversation also meant less room for her mind to fumble into the deep ends of hopelessness in her heart, and this could be the start of her healing process. With that thought in mind, she tried to lengthen her answers by offering more of her thoughts or even by asking questions. Judging by the encouraging smile Gaz sent her whenever she spoke up, he must have clocked onto her efforts.

It was odd to have someone listen to her. Playing Agustine’s bimbo had been a role where no one had paid any attention to her deliberately thoughtless words and only looked at her like she was some doll whose only asset was her looks. She had to keep repeating in her mind that those days of being used for her body were over, and that Gaz was being genuinely friendly out of the kindness of his heart – something she had last seen in the form of the granny who had taken her in, in that town she had stumbled upon.

Lunch time came eventually, as signalled by the trainer’s dismissal of the group of soldiers a good distance away. Unfortunately for Levina, the men had to pass by her bench on their way to the dining hall and she was subjected to leering eyes and low whistles that, unbeknownst to her, had started ever since they had first noticed her nearby presence. Only now did she realise that she was still dressed in the same clothes that Agustine had picked for her night; a dark blue nightdress with a low sweetheart neckline and a thin cardigan thrown over her shoulders, with the same stiletto heels – because Agustine didn’t understand practicality and had her wearing heels 24/7 – that she had stabbed him with. Chills ran down her bones at the sense of déjà vu as familiar irrational thoughts attacked her mind. She felt like a newbie again, seventeen and out of her depths among the masculinity that reeked all over the base.

“-Riven? You alright?”

“Hm?”

She quickly, with concerning ease, wiped away the insecurity in her eyes and put on the same reassuring smile she had sent Crawley. It seemed that the only times she let her face contort expressively were only when she had to fake her emotions; and she knew that Gaz had caught onto that, if his sceptical look was anything to go by.

Deciding to let her go, however, he didn’t bring that up and instead, pointed to the direction of the dining hall with his thumb. “You heading to lunch?”

She hesitated. Sure, she could do with more food, but she wasn’t keen on attracting more unwelcomed attention with her getup. Though, she really was hungry… Perhaps she’ll just channel her Tara Darwin identity again and strut there in all her confidence.

Her stomach growled at that moment and a decision was made for her. Fake it ‘til you make it, they said, and fake it ‘til she made it, she will.

Gaz grinned knowingly at her and stood up just as Levina did. They kept to silence as they headed to their destination and upon their entrance to the hall, she was hit with momentary panic at not having a place to sit. That was quickly abated, thankfully, when she spotted Crawley waving at her in invitation from his seat. She gestured to the line queueing for food and he gave an ‘okay’ sign of understanding.

“I’ll sit with a friend of mine. Thank you for the… water.”

A breath of laughter left Gaz and he turned to regard her with an amused glint in his eyes. “Of course, Riven. Can’t have you passing out from the heat now, can I?”

He had understood her connotation, that she had appreciated his company for the past few hours. He felt a sense of accomplishment at having made friends with the respectable woman and inwardly hoped for her to feel better as time would pass.

They parted ways once they had their tray of lunch in hand and Gaz beelined for his usual table where Captain Price – as she had learned during the debrief – was already present while Levina started towards where Crawley had saved a seat for her beside him. She ignored the distinct tap, tap of her heels against the wooden floor and the looks it garnered as she walked to her table. Her periphery vision showed a couple of men nudging their friends as their eyes left a heavy trail as they skimmed down her body. Suppressing her shiver of discomfort as she made the final steps, she forced her lips up into a cordial smile to the people in Crawley’s table – his current team, she surmised. Right in her guess, they each introduced themselves to her once she had sat down.

“Levina Riven. Crawley’s previous teammate, presumed dead for months.”

One of them then asked her what it was like to operate a long-con mission, which earned him a slap up the back of his head from Crawley. Gossips spread quick in the army, because what else could soldiers do other than train when bored?

Giving a lopsided smile, she answered, “besides the care pack you receive that consists of trauma?”

That got her a few laughter and they got the hint to stay off the unpleasant topic for the meantime. Crawley steered the conversation away and Levina only barely tuned in into their chatter as she ate, offering her thoughts only when they were asked for. It wasn’t like she hated the group of friends, she was just finding it hard to get a footing while dressed vulnerably amongst the uniformed men.

It’s not Agustine anymore, she repeated, you don’t have to fake it anymore.

The urge to reclaim Tara Darwin’s personality sat within reach of her grasp, so that she didn’t have to deal with her insecurity weighing on her mind – not insecurity over her body, but over the idea that her only notable trait was her body. Currently, with her lack of expressions and words, perhaps she really was nothing but a doll.

Ridding herself of that thought, she looked to the clock and finished up her meal quickly. She shot the table an apologetic smile when she was done and stood up as she reasoned her early leave with the excuse that she had to meet Laswell soon, never mind the fact that the Station Chief had stated she was free to come by her office whenever she was done with her lunch.

Once again, pulling up Tara Darwin’s confidence in her steps, Levina went to return her tray before exiting the stuffy room without catching anybody’s eyes. She slowed her steps down as she made her way to Laswell’s office, before stopping in her tracks in front of her door. Taking a deep breath, she brought one fist up to knock her knuckles against the door and stated her name and purpose as per Laswell’s request. Only once she was given permission did she enter the room with steady steps.

“Sergeant Riven, do sit down.” Levina settled on the seat across the desk in front of Laswell and kept her back straight as her superior began, “did you managed to think it through?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Do share, Sergeant.”

An explicit order to voice out her opinions by a figure of authority? How she had missed the humane way the S.A.S. Army ran compared to Agustine’s organisation.

Levina didn’t let her hesitance linger around. “If it is no trouble, I would like for a few days of leave to rest and catch up with my father. After that, I am willing to return and retrain with the others or under any specific arrangement you propose to get back on my feet sooner rather than later.”

Laswell gave a nod of agreement. “No different from what I had in mind. Three weeks of leave, and these do not count towards the agreed yearly number of PTOs you have, and then you are to come back to undergo training under a supervisor – training with the fresh recruits will only slow you down. You will be wired your pay for the past seven months by the end of this week for the work you have done in accumulating valuable intel. Any more to add, Sergeant?”

A longer leave than she had thought she might receive, no PTOs deducted, and seven months of salary? Oh, how she had really missed this place. “None, Ma’am.”

“Good. I have skimmed through your intel on Agustine and commencement of extracting information from him will begin tonight. I request that you stay here for the night in case you are needed for it. Any questions?”

“None, Ma’am.”

Another nod from Laswell as she wrapped up their talk. “You will stay in room 104 in the barracks for the night and after your leave. I trust that you know where it is?”

Room 104 had been her previous room, for it was one of the two double bunk-beds room that housed the women in the station.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Alright.” Expecting to be dismissed, Levina was confused at Laswell’s pause. The Station Chief had a pinched expression on her face as she thought her words over. “Did none of my men offer you a change of clothes at all? Not even a single jacket?”

Surprised at the turn of conversation, her “none, Ma’am” had lost the strength to its tone and came out slightly quirked as a question.

Laswell sighed, disappointment clear in the shake of her head. “Men.”

Perhaps it was the sense of camaraderie that she felt they had as two women in a cluster of masculinity, but whatever it was, Levina had felt secured enough to let a sincere grimace take over her expression. “Men, indeed.” And perhaps it was that same understanding as a woman Laswell felt that made her not reprimand Levina for speaking without prompt.

Laswell dismissed her soon after that and she now found herself sat on her assigned bed after showering and changing into a spare grey tee and cargo pants she had found in the locker that had come with the sleeping arrangements. The other occupants of the room weren’t in at the moment so she had time alone to sort through her thoughts.

Except, as if her thoughts had decided to pull up on a strike against her mind, none stayed around long enough before her mind dozed off into thoughtlessness. Deciding that it must be her exhaustion catching up to her after a restless night, she decided to lay under her covers to get a moment of shuteye in, seeing as she had no duties to commit to that day.

However, what she had intended to be a nap ended up becoming an entire sleep in, and she only woke up hours later in the quiet of the night.

Glancing at the alarm clock, she had over an hour before it would ring through the barracks simultaneously with the other room’s. Her body felt well-rested though, and sleep wouldn’t take her back in despite her pleas and so she opted to start preparing for her day.

A quick shower later left her even more refreshed, though she only had the same outfit to change into, and she put on her complimentary pair of sneakers before heading out of the barracks. The sun had yet to grace her with its presence so she settled on roaming around under the guide of the moonlight, something she hadn’t realised she had missed until now – freedom. She had been too busy assuring herself of her identity and worth that she had forgotten she now held full autonomy over herself. Months of feigning total submission under Agustine had really taken a toll on her to that extent.

Agustine this, Agustine that. She yearned for the day that man won’t appear in her mind even once, not the tiniest sliver of him.

Her mindless walk under the cloudy sky ended up bringing her back to the bench she had taken up the morning prior and she sat at the same exact spot as she awaited dawn. It seemed that the bench was one that determined fateful meetings for her, for it wasn’t long before she found herself in a similar situation as yesterday with Gaz.

Eyes trained forward and ears ringing with memories of her months spent in hell, she had not anticipated a figure to make their presence known by sitting down beside her. The waft of espresso scent brought her back into reality and she glanced at the man beside her.

Because mum and dad had not raised an unrespectful lady, she straightened up and greeted her superior with a quiet but steady voice. “Captain Price.”

“At ease, Sergeant.”

From what she had gathered from his interactions that she had seen until now – and the gossip that Crawley had filled her in on previously – Price was not a stuck-up captain who bullied their subordinates. That as a consideration, she relaxed her shoulders and back only after a moment of hesitation and brought her hands onto her lap to fiddle with her fingers subconsciously.

“Laswell wants to see you after breakfast, in her office.”

“Understood, Captain.”

Her reply was immediate and had cut through the thick air in between them with precision. Upon learning of his intention at approaching her, she eased up further, though, confused when he remained by her side even at the first glimpse of orange in the horizon.

Entranced by the view she had not witnessed in a long while, for Agustine had always kept her in his arms until he woke up hours past dawn, she spared the man beside her no thoughts and kept her gaze locked onto the palettes of shades that the sun created against the blue sky. Distantly, she hoped against all odds that she could one day rise over the constant haunting of Agustine as the sun had peaked over the skyline. A slow process, perhaps, but she would eventually get there.

Moments after the sun had made its full appearance in all its glory, the pair heard multiple alarms go off at intervals of seconds from the barracks, signalling them of the time and availability of breakfast in the dining hall.

“And that’s my cue.”

Price got up, careful so as to not spill over his cup of strong-smelling coffee, and offered her a resolute nod of greeting. As if he knew the plagues of her mind, he continued, “you’ve fought well against him thus far. He can’t break you now, more than ever. Not anymore.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, not that she had any idea what to say, he left her staring after his back as he walked away. Mulling over his words, she silently thanked him for his acknowledgement that, indeed, the past seven months had been a fight. Her fight for justice for all the trafficked victims of Agustine’s operations, and for her sister and mother who she had to mourn over when she had only been twelve. A fight that had yet to cease now, and a fight that she would emerge victorious one day. However muted it was, action-wise, it had been a fight; she hadn’t thought of it that way.

She stayed outside for a little while longer before making her way back in to the hall to grab breakfast. Price was absent from the table she had seen him and Gaz took yesterday, but there was someone else already there amongst the few people who was early to breakfast. He sported no skull mask which meant that, by the process of elimination as she went through the mental list of Task Force 141’s names that Crawley had shared with her, the person was Soap.

She took her eyes off of him before anyone had even noticed her stare and minded her business as she got herself another sandwich for the morning. Choosing to eat her meal on the same table Crawley had invited her to previously instead of bringing it outside or to her room – or, Grace forbids, the bathroom like some high school loser in the movies – she took slow bites as her mind wandered off to theorise what Laswell needed her for later on. It was likely to do with Agustine, as Laswell had shared her purpose for staying the night in the barracks was for that, and she only hoped that she didn’t have to meet her tormentor again.

Much to her dismay, her hopes went unanswered as, moments later, she found herself walking alongside Laswell towards Agustine’s cell. Apparently, the man had kept silent all throughout his questioning, and he had asked after her one too many times for it not to be a silent request to see his former lover once again. Honest to Grace, Levina wasn’t sure why they still needed Agustine alive with the intel that she had provided, but she supposed a confirmation of her perspective was preferable to the Army. Though, she doubted that Agustine would really sell out his organisation that easily. She had lived with him for months, for fuck’s sake, she had taken the brunt of his angers and had listened to his darkest confessions with attentive ears. She knew better than anyone just how much he prided himself in having built his organisation from the ground up ever since his youths when he was still a part of a Mafia group – he had done it under wraps and had massacred the high-ranks of that Mafia once he was powerful enough, thus dismantling that one Mafia group but creating a human-trafficking organisation in its stead.

When one realised just how formidable Agustine was as an enemy, it really was almost incomprehensible and laughable how Levina had managed to wriggle her way into his ranks with a bat of her eyelash and a sway of her hips. Her impulsive disguise as a bimbo really might just spell the end of Agustine’s reign, she realised belatedly. Oh, the flaws of stupid men who think with their cocks.

As the pair of women neared their destination, Levina tried reasoning with her mind that this could be the final time she had to come face to face with Agustine. A closure, if she would. She wasn’t sure what went through the higher-up’s mind to decide that her presence might coax him into exposing his organisation but she’d amuse them for now. If her visit ended up producing no results, that was no fault of her own.

The guards let them into the station’s prison and they entered a room to see Agustine handcuffed to the table of the questioning cell on the opposite side of the one-way mirror. A few other associates were there to greet their arrival and judging by their expressions, they still had not made any progress with getting Agustine to speak.

“The only topic he would skirt around was you, Sergeant Riven. Won’t stop expressing his anger at ‘Tara’, which Price had explained was your alias.”

The more Agustine stayed within her vision, the more uncertain Levina was of her role. “Why would my presence affect his resolve to stay silent?”

“We are holding onto any possible thread at this point. You might be the key, you might not be; there is only one way to find out, Sergeant.”

“Right…”

“Ready when you are,” they had said. She swallowed her words that had wanted to shoot back that she would never be ready, not in the near future at least, along with her nerves as she willed her soul, body, and mind to remain strong in his presence. With a final deep breath, she turned the doorknob to the holding cell and entered with a blank face.

“Ah, Tara, darling. At last, you’ve shown yourself!”

His familiar condescending tone scratched at her brain harshly. “What do you want.”

A mocking grin made its way to his lips as he languidly leaned back in his chair. “Not even a “hello, how are you, Claude?” or an apology for betraying my trust? My love?”

Disgust crawled under her skin at the reminder of his rather physical show of love and of the idea that she had spent uncountable nights under his ogling and wandering hands. Not wanting to show just how much Agustine affected her, she forced herself to take a seat across him.

“I’ll consider it if you start talking.”

His eyes flashed with anger and she applauded herself for not flinching.

“About what, sweetheart? About the tricks and the lengths you’ve gone through to bewitch me? You want me to confess my love for you that you have trampled on without so much as a care? How about describing all the shameless things you’ve done in bed just to keep me satisfied? Hmm?”

Tara Darwin may have shed her sense of embarrassment for a while now, but Levina Riven had not. The two identities battled each other to shoot back her response and the winner was clear when her eyebrow sarcastically went up in feigned confidence. “What, do you want me to strip down to my socks and masturbate in front of them while we’re at it?”

The bimbo-ness of Tara Darwin’s personality in her may have been absent but holy Mother, she had not expected her candidness. Evidence of her time spent around the crass language that Agustine’s men had used, perhaps.

Annoyed at Levina’s avoidance of his bait, he dropped that tactic. “You know I won’t say shit to you guys. You’re just wasting time here.”

Grappling to grab a hold of Levina Riven’s identity, she schooled her expression once more. “Do you want me to put you out of your misery, then? If we have no use of you, I’m not against disposing you.”

Agustine let out a bark of laughter. “And then what? My people will continue even without me, you can’t do anything about that.”

So, the others have kept silence over Levina’s gathered intel on him… She wasn’t trained to question suspects so she had no idea what strategy that was but she would respect it. Knowing that this was going nowhere, she rolled her neck side to side to ease the joints, creating a series of cracks that echoed in the room. “Right, well. If you won’t speak then I’m done here, really.”

She stood up and an idea struck her on how she could begin closing this chapter in her life. Leaning over the table, she brought one hand up to take his chin and lift his face up towards her. With a single word, she cleared the apprehension in his face and his eyes stared back lifelessly as he was subjected to the memories of his past trauma that the word had brought up.

“Marcire.”

The rest of the team, which had expanded with the addition of Captain Price and Gaz, looked at her with varying degrees of oddness etched onto their features when she emerged from the holding cell. She looked questioningly at them and glanced at Agustine’s shell-shocked state when Laswell pointed towards him. “What did you say to him at the end?”

“Marcire; Italian for ‘rot’. He associates that word with a couple of past traumas from his time in the Mafia.” It was probably a really low, bitch move on her part to pull up his trauma, but he is a human-trafficker. He had been served at a level that he himself served.

“Just how much did he confide in you…”

Levina gave a noncommittal shrug. “I did find a wedding ring in his drawer one day. I was spending 24 hours a day by his side then, so there could have been no one else he was seeing.”

Her confession brought surprise to the room as each of them realised that they had underestimated just how flawlessly Levina had single-handedly tricked Agustine. Acting hadn’t even been one of the skills listed in her file – that needed updating, quick.

Another one of her associates cleared his throat. “Right. We’ll try questioning him again once he’s snapped out of his… current state. Thank you for your time, Sergeant Riven.”

“Of course, sir.”

Laswell then turned to address her and she stiffened her back and shoulders slightly. “I have approved your leave for the next three weeks. You are free to leave any time after noon today.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Upon having nothing more to add from either side of the party, Laswell then dismissed her and she left the prison with Gaz following after her. It was only after they made it outside that Gaz struck up a conversation with her.

“Heard you were leaving today and wanted to catch you before that. I only realised earlier that I haven’t gotten your number and that was unacceptable!”

Levina didn’t stop in her tracks as she aimlessly walked around the HQ once again, but it was a near thing. “I don’t know where they kept my phone.” At Gaz’s confusion, she clarified, “from back when I was first presumed dead. I tend not to bring it with me during missions.”

In agreement that her then-captain would likely be the person who would know the whereabouts of her personal cell, they decided to head up to Mavers’ office. There, they found him alone and busy with paperwork but he, nevertheless, invited them in. As it turns out, the Captain had sent all of Levina’s personal belongings back home, to her father, as per the guidelines, so, high possibility she’d find the device amongst them there. With a grateful nod to him, the pair left the office just as quickly as they had entered and recommenced their walk around the vicinity; not before Gaz had asked to borrow a slip of paper and a pen, though.

“There. So that you can text me whenever you’ve found your phone.”

She pocketed the paper with Gaz’s phone number written on it with a touch of appreciation. Prior to Gaz, her only friends had been her team and her roommates in Room 104, and so far, that entire team had been wiped out, save for Crawley, and she had yet to reconcile with the ladies as she had been dead-asleep when they had returned to the barracks the evening before.

A fresh chapter in her life, indeed.

Words escaped her when she tried to voice out her gratitude to him. No matter, there was still a lifetime ahead of her – however short it may be due to her line of work – to express herself.

The weather was cooler than it had been yesterday and there were no hints of grey clouds in sight. Deciding that it was a good day to bask in the sun, they ended up sitting on the same bench from the day before – and that morning, for her. As Levina was to leave and return to civilian life in a few hours, they ended up talking about the pre-military life that seemed so far away now; from childhood dreams to subjects they had enjoyed in school, even insignificant crushes in elementary because, who hasn’t had them?

Gaz was sharing an anecdote of the time he had pissed his pants due to stage fright when they were interrupted by the approach of another man. They spotted Soap closing his distance to the pair with purposeful strides and Levina didn’t miss the way Gaz lit up in understanding.

“He probably needs me for something- we’ll have to cut our time short, unfortunately.”

He gave her a frown and she was saved from having to respond when Soap arrived in front of them. The newcomer extended a hand to Levina as he introduced himself. “Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, better known as ‘Soap’. Gaz’s teammate and the best-looking lad in the station.”

She felt rude, meeting his cheeky and playful grin with a blank expression, so she strained an upward curl of her lips into a harmless smile. Hoping that her moment of hesitation to take his hand went unnoticed, she stated her name and rank in exchange.

His brightness unwavering even at her muted response, his grin remained in place as he snapped his hand onto his waist, casting his extended shadow onto the pair sat on the bench.

“I see that Gaz was quicker than me! Would like to say that I’m a big fan of yours; shame, what he did to your heels, but that was a badass move if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Oh.” Levina blinked in pleasant surprise, “thank you?”

It was a calculated but rash decision, to stab Agustine’s thigh with her pointed heels. She had no weapons on her back then, when she had realised that he was planning to catch her off-guard, and he would, no doubt, overpower her with sheer strength if she had not used everything she had to her advantage. She hadn’t even been sure if the stiletto would be sharp enough to cut into his flesh but surprised, she was, when it did without so much of an obstruction. And that action had given her a fan… the Grace up above could not tell her if that was a good thing or not.

“Anyways, I’d love to chat more with you but alas, duty has called for me and my mate, here.” Gaz stood up with a sigh and Soap wasted no time in throwing an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.”

Gaz offered her a smile. “Text me when you’re free, a’ight? Enjoy your well-deserved leave and stay safe, Riven.”

“Will do.”

The pair of men left her with a lasting grin and Levina let her eyes linger after them as they got further away. A sigh escaped her at her lonely circumstance and she opted to remain in her seat for a while longer. Her clothes blended in amongst her colleagues so she felt better in her skin compared to when she had been in a nightdress. Thus, she didn’t mind her current spot near the soldiers undergoing outdoor training.

It was a mindset she had trained to achieve, and so did every woman in the field, to find her place within the dense fog of masculinity and testosterone, and to hold it strong against the judgmental looks and condescending tones sent her way. That feminine force in her had weakened over the months as Tara Darwin’s submissiveness to men vigorously fought against her true psyche, but she knew it was still within her – she just had to patch herself back up.

When it was a few minutes to noon, she headed back to her room to double-check if she had left anything behind – never mind the fact that she had arrived empty handed. She felt silly, debating over whether she wanted to keep the white pair of Louboutin heels gifted by Agustine, for it was, after all, so bloody expensive (pardon the pun) and worth it to put in the effort to clean off the blood. Quick in her decision, however, she decided against it to save herself the headache of having a parting gift from the despicable man; the mental lasting touches of his were enough of a burden, she didn’t need physical ones too.

Disposing Agustine’s money’s worth of outfit, she washed her hands clean of the unseen contamination afterwards, scrubbing the soap harshly against her skin like she did her entire body in her first shower back here.

In a spur of the moment – her decision-making skills really were as impulsive as they come, she realised – she decided to leave after having her lunch here so that she didn’t have to stop by somewhere on her way back home. She met Gaz’s and Soap’s waves with a nod, giving another one to Price when he had turned to see who the pair was greeting in curiosity, and took her tray to Crawley’s table once again. With an almost-minute friendly smile plastered onto her lips, she greeted the occupants of the table and settled into silence as she ate her meal, speaking up only when prompted. She finished up in no time, more than eager to see her father again, and set her destination to home as she walked out of the compounds.

The Army had issued her a temporary spare card to take the public transport back home seeing as: one, her personal card was sent home following her ‘death’; and two, her car was also sent home and was, more than likely, sold by her father as he had no use of it – as he got older, he decided not to risk driving with a flawed eyesight and opted to take the public transport instead.

It was a two-hours ride back home and she had only her mind to keep her company. Two hours of boredom felt almost quick in comparison to seven months of hell though, and before long, she found herself standing in the doorway of the humble flat she had made into a home with her dad – the initial house for her entire family had been too big – too painful – to maintain.

Levina felt her heart beat out of her chest and shook her hands to get rid of some nerves. With a shaking hand, she pressed the button for her apartment number on the intercom and waited for a response. It was a Saturday which meant that her dad wouldn’t be out for work, and Laswell had mentioned previously that they would give him a heads up regarding her not-dead state of wellbeing. Only two seconds had passed when she heard the audio crackle over the speaker and then a voice calling out.

“Vina?”

She felt tears prick her eyes at the familiar cadence she had missed dearly and her voice came out shaky when she responded, “dad?”

“Bless my heart- it’s you!”

The door to the building buzzed open and she wasted no time in tracing her steps to the elevator. She wrung her hands to settle the urge to spam the elevator door close and tapped her foot as she was brought higher and higher into the building. She sped her way to the right unit and anxiously knocked on the door the moment it was within reach. The door swung open and she only got a glimpse of her dad’s face before she was brought into a tight hug.

“Oh Vina, you’ve come home! You’re alive! You’re alive-”

He cut himself off with a sob that wracked through his entire body and she was immediately crying with him, didn’t even bother holding her tears back.

“Dad-” Levina sobbed as she tightened her hold around her dad, “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry-”

“Not your fault, darling,” she felt him shake his head, their hairs ruffling against each other, “not at all…” And oh, how she had missed the soothing affection that came with being called terms of endearments.

He pulled back and kept Levina near with a grasp on her shoulders, then brought a hand up to gently brush away the hairs that had stuck onto her face. “Let me look at you- oh, sweetheart… you’ve gotten even more lovely since!”

In the comfort of her father, she felt her mind ease enough that expressing herself didn’t feel like a chore.

Fondness pulled the corner of her trembling lips upwards as she let out another sob. “I’m home, dad- I’m home.”

They eventually made their way inside the unit and locked the door behind them. Settling on the couch, their hands remained clasped as they tried to make up for the seven months that had forced them apart.

Her wellbeing always a priority in his heart, his eyes shone with worry as he asked, “have you eaten? I can whip out something quick if you need. Was there anything in particular that you’ve missed eating? Mom’s special carbonara? Roast chicken? Or-”

“Slow down, dad! I’m alright!” A watery laugh escaped her, “I had lunch before I left the compounds so I’m good.”

Placated slightly, her dad quietened down as he raked his eyes over her face, taking in the features he had missed. She did the same, trailing her eyes as she matched their similar features in his nose and eyes. Her lips mirrored her mom’s but her sister had gotten dad’s. Speaking of…

Levina felt another round of tears threaten to slip out but managed to reign it in for the sake of not worrying her dad. Laswell had specified the need to keep Agustine’s records confidential within the military for the meantime so Levina didn’t have the greenlight to let her dad know of his youngest daughter’s fate. She silently strengthened her promise to do everything she could to bring her sister back if she was still alive.

The reunited pair of family ended up talking the afternoon away as they caught each other up on their lives. Levina had confided in him, tears streaming down her face, of her fear of losing her identity and of her grief over her mental exhaustion at expressing herself. He held her in his arms and she felt like a child all over again, with the way he caressed her hair as he listened attentively to her worries.

“Oh, Vina. Despite everything, you are still you. My daughter whom I cherish so much, the girl who gave the ‘monster under the bed’ a teddy because she hadn’t wanted it to be lonely, the woman you have grown to be whose parents are so, so proud of.”

That had rightfully earned him another wave of cries from Levina.

“We’ll take it one step at a time, yeah? No need to rush, there’s all the time in the world to give you the space you need to heal. And don’t you think for one second that you’re alone in all of this, I’m here for you whenever you need me, love.”

Always so patient, her dad was. She did, after all, inherit that trait from somewhere – and how validated she felt when she acknowledged that no, her only trait wasn’t her pretty looks, there was much more to her than that.

They ended up ordering in for dinner, their crying session having seeped away their energy. After a shower, she didn’t stay up long before turning in for the night, her dad following not too far behind. He had kept her room clean despite her months of absence and she found the belongings that the Army had sent home all packed in an unopened box.

She rummaged through it in search for her phone and its charger, then plugged it up to let it charge overnight as she slept. Exhaustion pulled her into sleep quickly and left her dreamless that night. The sun was only beginning to peak over the skyline when she woke up and her room lit up in the faintest of light. The cool tile under her feet grounding her, she headed to the kitchen to prepare a cup of black tea for herself and her dad, knowing that her family was full of early birds and that he’ll be seeking his own shot of pick-me-up in a moment. True to their persisting routine, her dad shuffled out of his room not long after and beelined for his own cup after giving her an affectionate hug.

A comforting silence blanketed over them in the chilly autumn air. Levina scooted closer to her dad when he sat beside her on the couch and leaned her head against his shoulder, his arm coming up to keep her close. They spent the early morning gazing out the big living room window that looked over the other buildings, as they simply basked in each other’s missed presence.

As if no time had been lost between them, they settled into their previous patterns whenever Levina would stay over in between deployments. Except, the solemn air fleeting past them told of the hardship that they have suffered from to get to this dear moment in time.

The reminders of love that she received from her dad were able to wipe away some associations of love that she had with Agustine. Her dad’s companionship over the days had also helped her fully accept the fact that she was now out of reach from Agustine. He could no longer worsen her state and ruin things for her any further; or in Price’s words, he couldn’t break her now. That realisation gradually, bit by bit, eased the weariness that had locked up her expressions. There was no more Agustine, hence, no longer a need to keep her psyche fortified against the fear of being unloved. Trips to the movies, restaurants, and shops with her dad were opportunities to test out her expressiveness and by the end of her third week, she could at least manage genuine grateful smiles to strangers. Her confidence in her ability to heal took its time to rise but rise, it did.

The day she had to return to her duties had been a teary day but both of them had strengthened their resolve to not cry because they will meet again, as they have always promised. She decided against purchasing a car and opted to take the public transport instead as she didn’t tend to venture elsewhere besides the compound and her home. Levina was to arrive at her compound by noon so, with the two hours ride to consider, she left early in the morning after bidding her father farewell.

When she made it to the compound, it was a while before lunch time would start so there were soldiers roaming around the station. With foresight, she was dressed in the same grey tee and cargo pants that blended into the surroundings so she didn’t capture a significant amount of attention as she headed to the barracks. Once she had deposited her belongings, she walked straight to Laswell’s office to report her presence. Upon Laswell’s permission, she walked in, feeling more herself than the last time she had been here.

“Sergeant Riven. It’s good to see you well.”

Laswell launched into business immediately, sharing that Agustine was now in the custody of the state prison after the never-ending failures to pry information out of the man. The next assignment to tackle one of his bases of operations would happen in the coming weeks in hopes of attacking his men in the middle of their chaos of their missing ringleader. If that assignment went well, they would be looking at finally having the complete records in the organisation’s system.

“We now have options to discuss in terms of locations and who to watch out for during these missions all thanks to you, Sergeant. Your efforts are greatly appreciated.”

They then talked about Levina’s current position in the station; Lieutenant Mitch Mordell had been tasked with supervising her training and she was to obey his direction in the meantime. Officially, Levina had not been appointed a team to work with but Mordell had promised good progress within two months so her file would be updated then for the team captains to consider her as an asset. Training would start the next day, but Mordell had requested to pass along his message asking Levina to meet with him after lunch that day.

“Any more to add, Sergeant?”

“None, Ma’am.”

“Dismissed. Welcome back, Sergeant.”

Now with minutes to spare before lunch time opens, Levina decided she might as well wait in the dining hall which, upon entering it, it seemed that a few others had decided to do the same. She spotted Gaz and Soap chatting at their table just as Soap looked up reflexively upon her entrance.

“Riven!”

Now that had attracted the room’s attention.

Her hand paused in the air mid-wave and she blinked in series, caught off-guard by the loudness of Soap’s voice. Pointedly ignoring the others in the room, she walked over to the pair with the intention to say hi. They were friends after all – Gaz and her had corresponded over texts and, a week into it, he had passed along Soap’s request to have her number. They were pleasant people to talk with, she had decided, and they didn’t judge her preference of using emoticons over emojis.

Once she was stood at the head of the table, Gaz on her left and Soap on her right, the former made a sound of wonder as his eyes darted to run their gaze over her hair.

“New hairstyle? It suits you, Riv.”

“Hell yeah, you look good with it!”

As per the cardinal rule to a lady’s guide on how to get over a breakup – though, it wasn’t exactly the ‘breakup’ part that she was trying to get over – Levina had gone to the salon to get her hair cut. Inexperienced with hairstyles for she had always stuck to a simple long style that she could braid for practical purposes, she simply allowed the hairstylist to find the best fit for her. Thus, she ended up with a slightly-past shoulder-length wolf cut and a perm to keep the curls consistent – seeing as she wouldn’t be able to style it manually every morning – that she could still gather into a braid if needed. Needless to say, the mirror gave her a boost of self-confidence and she was happy with her new something that made up her identity as Levina Riven.

“Thanks, guys.” Here, she could manage the slight smile to her lips to convey her gratitude. That seemed to brighten Gaz up and he could see that she had been truthful in her responses of ‘doing great’ wellbeing whenever he had asked her over text. “Just thought I might switch it up for a change. Giving credit where credit’s due, the hairstylists did a great job.”

“Well, credit where credit’s due, I think you did a great job pulling it off.” Soap gave his classic cheeky grin. “And also, in sitting still long enough because- let me tell you, my ass cannot do that.”

A breath of amusement left her in an exhale that didn’t go unnoticed by the pair, much to their delight at having tugged on her sense of humour.

“Anyways, why’re you still standing?! Here- sit, sit.”

“Oh.” Levina eyed the empty spot that Gaz had scooted further along the bench to create. Uncertainty washed over her and she glanced at the clock, then Crawley’s empty table, before deciding to take the boys up on their offer. “Well, if you don’t mind…”

“Not at all,” Gaz waved away her concerns with ease.

“So, how have you both been?”

At Levina’s question, they took turns sharing snippets of interesting stories that they had not shared previously. They ranged from the latest gossip in the compound, to their personal accounts of the different ways they got their ass beaten by each other during hand-to-hand combat training.

By the end of it all, the hall had already opened for lunch. Levina stood up to join the two in grabbing her own share of food but she paused when Soap narrowed his eyes at her. She subconsciously tilted her head in question.

“You’ll come back here once you grab your food, won’t you? You haven’t told us how you’ve been!”

Turning to Gaz for help had been useless because she caught him nodding earnestly instead, in complete agreement with Soap. “Can’t just leave us hanging like that.”

Her lips parted in genuine surprise. “I’ve got someone wai-” but her words got lodged in her throat when she realised that Crawley hadn’t even shown up yet. A different approach then. “I wouldn’t want to intrude the others you normally sit with.”

At that moment, Soap seemed to have spotted something – or rather, someone – behind Levina and he brightly cheered out, “you wouldn’t be! Isn’t that right, Cap?”

Price rounded the table from where he had appeared from behind Levina to take his seat on the free space beside Soap, diagonally across her. An eyebrow quirked up at the scene in front of him, his eyes lingered slightly on Levina’s instinctively stiffened figure before addressing the men. “At ease, Sergeant Riven. And why are you all stood in place like a pack of flamingos?”

Soap preoccupied with feigning mock offense at Price’s comment, Gaz explained in his stead. “Say, Cap, you wouldn’t mind if we invite Riven here to our table for lunch, would you?”

“What is this, elementary school?” Price turned to her once again. “Sit wherever you want, Sergeant. Though, keep in mind, the boys hold grudges.”

“Right…” Bewildered at the situation, she hadn’t even noticed that her eyes had opened slightly wider.

“Great! You stay here, Riven, and I’ll go grab you a tray.”

Nope, she decided, that was too much for her to handle.

The boys had immediately left the table after Soap had stated his offer and she quickly exited the bench to catch up after them. “I can do that myself, thank you very much!”

It spoke volumes just how needed her leave was to heal herself with the way she was able to exclaim and hold her voice steady when just three weeks ago, she could only manage low mutters and a stoic face when she didn’t have to answer to a figure of authority. Besides her dad, she had Gaz and Soap to thank for to have made this much progress; and perhaps even Price for his brief words of encouragement that had acknowledged her strength and perseverance.

“I’m glad you have good people with you there,” her dad had said when she told him of the new people she had met, “you don’t have to be alone to heal from your wounds.”

Lunch, overall, had been an enjoyable affair. She got to speak of her outings with her dad and, though she had not voiced it out, the others knew that the most significant part of her three-weeks leave had been the steady growth she’s made in healing herself.

Time passed by in a blur and they soon had to part ways. She headed straight for Lieutenant Mordell’s office and knocked on the door upon her arrival.

“Name and purpose!”

“Sergeant Riven! You asked to see me, Sir!”

He announced for her to enter and she did so with a bated breath.

She took her respectful stance across his desk in front of him and noticed the way the burly man stood taller than her and had a stony expression on his face. He hummed in thought for a moment as he took her figure in methodically, then nodded to himself as if she had somehow already passed his first test.

“Sergeant Riven!” His voice boomed slightly in the compact room and she didn’t allow herself to waver even the slightest.

“Yes, Sir!”

Pleased with her effort in matching his tone, he eased down his volume. “As Laswell has likely told you, I will be in charge of your personal training until you’ve gotten back on your feet. I’ve given my word that two months will be enough time to manage that and I do not go back on my words, do you understand?”

“Understood, Sir.”

“I’ve read your file and have heard good things about you from Captain Mavers, Sergeant, I suggest you live up to your potential and make us proud, you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He gave another nod and then took his seat behind his desk. “Sit down, Sergeant. I’ll run you through the strategies I’ve planned.”

Intensive training, he had called it, and she could see why. Her muscles almost ached at the thought of all the physical exertion she’d have to undergo for the next two months and she already dreaded the weeks when she’d be on her period. She couldn’t complain though, it was for her benefit after all. He gave her a copy so that she wouldn’t go into everyday blindly and for that, she thanked him. All in all, Lieutenant Mordell was a stern but not an unreasonable man, suitable to be the one to push her to her limits for the coming months. She just hoped he’ll do so kindly.

That night, she was able to reconnect with her roommates. There wasn’t much that had happened over the past eight months that she could share freely with the girls so she spent most of their chatter actively listening to the others talk, quipping on occasions.

With how good her day had gone, it seemed that the world had wanted to rectify the balance because she found herself waking up groggy the next morning as memories of her time as Agustine’s woman had plagued her all night. For what felt like an entire minute, she then stood under the flow of steaming water as if she could wash away the lingering feel of his touches that continued to haunt her. Nightmares weren’t uncommon to her; years of serving in the army had inevitably compiled tons of horrific materials for her brain to choose from to suffice as great content to reminisce during her sleep. Though, Agustine would undoubtedly reign supreme as the ‘content of the year’ that would show up to fight against the peaceful moonlight in her mind, much to her dismay.

Her schedule would start at a much more appropriate time in the morning so she was free to do anything until then. Not one to break habits, she settled onto the fateful bench and stared forward into the empty sky, awaiting the first glimmer of sunlight. Also a creature of mornings, it seemed, Price had joined her moments later with his steaming cup of coffee in his hands.

He had spotted her fixing her posture when she had first caught sight of him and, before she could even greet him in respect, he had knowingly huffed out an “at ease, Sergeant”, voice rough from unuse but warm against the chilly air.

They settled into companionable silence as the sun began to rise. When her thoughts of Agustine had crescendo-ed into fortissimo, she began to unknowingly scratch at her inner wrist where he had, more often than not, held her down against the bed as he played her body in tune with his sick fantasies. Her mind had been replaying her pain and distress when it abruptly went static when her ears had picked up on a sound in the real world.

She turned towards the source of her well-timed rescue and the blue taking over her sight grounded her more than the sky had ever done in the past three weeks – which said a lot seeing as the sky had provided sanctuary for her when the nights had been particularly bad. Unlike the clear blue that submissively made way for the sun to take its place, this new blue had stormy greys woven into it to emphasise the strength behind it. Blue had always been her favourite colour, but it was only now that she had decided on a favourite shade.

Blinking slowly as she regained her bearings, the specks of concern in Price’s eyes grew with every second that passed in silence. She rewound the past minute in her head and relistened closely to the sound that had brought her back to reality.

“Oh.”

Price had called out to her and she had unintentionally responded with an intense staring contest. Way to go, Lev, she grimaced inwardly, such a perfectly functional human being you are.

“Sorry, Captain- head in the clouds.”

Searching her eyes and finding none of the toxic haze that had been prominent in them prior to her snapping out of her daze, he passed off his sigh of relief as an exhale and glanced up. “It’s a clear sky this morning, Sergeant.” Her lips quirked up and he found himself mirroring it.

Taking his words for it – she had no idea where that sense of trust came from – her eyes never casted themselves upwards even as she responded assuredly, “so it is, Captain.”

The cacophony of alarm clocks ringing started at that moment and she turned back to face forwards at his previously-proclaimed ‘cue’ to leave. It seemed that she was right when he stood up, but she faced him again when he addressed her.

“You drink coffee, Sergeant?”

She had a speculation as to where this was going and found herself willingly playing along to his proposition. “More of a tea person, Captain.”

“Black?”

“And no sugar.”

He had unquestionably been caught but he didn’t let that faze him the slightest. “I’ll make a note of that, Sergeant.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Her gratitude had escaped her in a low voice but he easily picked up on it anyway. With a final nod to her, he left her bubble of safety without popping it in his stride.

A thoughtful man, Price was. His calm patience at letting her return to her senses in her own time was an admirable attribute of his and she had felt respected upon being subjected to it earlier. She was uncertain as to why his eyes had become the most impactful grounding material for her thus far and she didn’t even know if she wanted to further investigate the matter – not that she would know how to do that in the first place. For singlehandedly pulling her out of the depths of her mind’s torment, she appreciated him. And if her hypothesis regarding the reasoning behind his question on how she preferred her drink was right, he must’ve at least also liked her company enough. She felt a comforting fuzziness in her chest and quickly waved it away.

She wasn’t born yesterday; she recognised the kindling flame in her heart. Fear prevented her from tending to it though, but hope bared its fangs and warded off any attempts in extinguishing it. So, she’ll sit back at watch it nurture on its own for now.

Not wanting to risk being late for her schedule, she only stayed outside for a moment longer before heading back in for breakfast. Always a person who got easily anxious about being late, she ended up in the gym early. Mordell arrived while she was in the midst of stretching and she swiftly stood up straight to salute her lieutenant.

Cue the commencement of her intensive training.

Mordell’s curated plans had not allowed for an easy beginning, immediately kicking off into pushing Levina past her ‘pathetic limits’, as he had dubbed. She had visited the local gym during her leave and had, too, been appalled at her maximum capability – it had dropped so low that it was almost as if it was her first day in cadet training. She could only imagine the pinched expression Mordell would have if he knew about that.

Getting her stamina back up was her priority in the past three weeks, and she applauded herself for that decision because it proved beneficial when Mordell gave her only small windows of breaks throughout the day. Her lunchtime now had a time limit and she could only stuff her face of her meal ceaselessly, much to the bemusement of Crawley and his team.

She didn’t hold back from putting in all her efforts which resulted in the lack of beratement from Mordell at the end of the day. There was no escaping his harsh words entirely though, and all she could do, other than try harder, was to fortify her mind against the – almost – degradation. Mordell was at least a more respectful person than the trainer during her cadet training; those times were bad enough that they had shown up as nightmares a handful of times even years later.

Finally, the final half an hour of dinner had come, which signalled the end of the day’s schedule. Her arms were limp by her side, sore from overexertion, as she trekked her way to the canteen. She tended to be amongst the early-comers of mealtimes and had expected less people towards the end of them, thus, rendering her slightly surprised when she entered the canteen only to see that it was rather packed.

As if he had been waiting for her arrival, Gaz was already waving to catch her attention when she walked into the hall. Upon meeting her eyes, he patted the empty seat next to her and she was about to give a nod when her eyes fell upon the rest of the table’s occupants who had reflexively turned towards her at Gaz’s actions.

Oh, she realised, the whole gang was here.

Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley was an easily distinguishable person; built tall and broad, with the unmistakeable face covering in the form of an iconic skull mask on-field or a balaclava off-field. The lower half of his face covered, Levina couldn’t get a read of his expression at Gaz’s invitation to her.

Sporting a lopsided smile that was half genuine, she gestured to the empty queue for food which Gaz understood. She wasn’t sure how her presence would be taken by the lieutenant but seeing as he had remained in place even as she approached with her tray in hand, she surmised that he at least didn’t already dislike her.

A round of greetings came from the three men she was already familiar with when she reached the table, countering with her own “hey, guys”. Whatever had happened that morning with Price, it established a strong enough connection between the two that he didn’t even bat an eyelash when she didn’t immediately salute him; if anything, he seemed pleased at the lack of her gesture of respect.

Her eyes naturally landed on the only person she had not greeted and she offered him a warm smile. “Sergeant Levina Riven. Under the direct orders of Lieutenant Mordell.”

“Lieutenant Ghost. Task Force 141.”

Despite being obstructed, his voice was as sharp as the greeting nod he gave.

Having cleared the introductions, she took her seat next to Gaz and noticed that the area of the table in front of both Price and Ghost were clean, while Gaz and Soap had an empty tray. She couldn’t help but wonder if they usually stayed for dinner even after they had finished their meals or if they had done so this time because of her…

“Told you she wouldn’t run.” Pride was clear in Soap’s tone as he addressed Ghost, who gave a gruff of acknowledgment in response.

Just like that, dots connect in her head and she regarded Soap with an eyebrow raised, lips curled into a sliver of an amused smile. “You taking bets on me now? That’s hurtful, Soap.”

The aforementioned man stammered a defence, taken aback by her accurate judgement and the rare expressiveness to her words. Perhaps his playfulness had infected her.

Gaz shook his head in mock disappointment at the way his friend had easily exposed them. “Dumbass.”

Just before she started digging into her food, she added, “and for the record, why would I?”

She missed the glint of approval that flickered in the men’s eyes, though, she caught only a glimpse of a pleased smile on them before she looked to Ghost who had spoken up.

“These men like you too much so I thought I’d see for myself why.”

Surprised at the implication that she was a common topic of conversation amongst the men, she hadn’t even realised that her smile had gone a tad shy.

“Well, I’ve no idea what they’ve been telling you but I’m flattered, nonetheless.”

“Only the good things, Riv, only the good things.”

They asked her about her first day of training, how it was like to be under Mordell’s supervision. Their conversation then turned to reminiscing their cadet years, bonding over each other’s complaints of the harsh words they had to endure and unanimously agreeing that Price’s experiences were the worse with how military the way things had ran in his time.

Levina also got to see the 141’s dynamic and she commended Price for his choice of men to take under his wings. They were all honourable men, as far as she could see, each with their own set of characters and beliefs that individually distinguished them. It struck her as odd that they’ve decided she was worthy of their time, and she let their implicit validation of her character solidify the cultivating idea that she was more than just a pretty face and body. They treated her well, she liked them.

Her fatigue caught up to her in her sleep that night and her mind took a day off from picking on her in her dreams. She woke up with her entire body sore and languid, and her remedy came in the form of a hot shower and a cup of black tea.

Correct in her speculation, Price had brought two cups of drinks that morning, handing her one that had been made to her preference.

“You are a saint, Captain.”

He had given her a mirthful smile as he made to sit beside her.

“You don’t always have to keep up formalities with me, Sergeant.”

“I mean, you do call me ‘Sergeant’ a lot, Captain.”

“Touché, Sergeant. Touché.”

A delightful breath of air left her in an exhale. “Can I call you ‘Price’, then?”

“You’re more than welcomed to, Riven.”

A beat.

The flames crackled stronger.

The morning chill stood no chance against the combined warmth of her heart and the tea, both of which were prepared lovingly by the man beside her. Oh, how he had made a home out of her.

As the weeks passed, dinnertimes and mornings became her favourite parts of the day.

The group of men had, without her knowledge, agreed to occupy Levina’s dinners whenever they could. Their schedules didn’t always match but that didn’t stop them from insisting that she joined whoever was available when she was. Most of the time it was Ghost – she had learned over many conversations that he was a man who valued consistency – and at least one other person. But, by the time there came an evening where it was only him, they had already grown closer to the point where he had not minded eating in her presence.

The boys provided her a relief from a full day of hard work. They engaged her in affable chatter that opened more doors between them to grow closer, or, in the days where training had been too harsh, they still left the door open but didn’t impinge on her bubble. Their consideration only made her want to treat them equally, asking about their days with sincere interest or understandingly laying off of them when they seek quiet tranquillity after an awful day.

They had each other’s backs, the boys and her. Their friendship had been built on compassion and respect ever since they first met with weapons in each of their hands – guns in theirs, and deception in hers – though, they were never pointed at each other – except Ghost did but she held nothing against his initial apprehensions.

And then there were mornings. Those were when she got to watch her psyche’s fire develop, inching closer and closer to it as her hope gradually began to subdue her fear. She had gotten to the point where she could feel the first wave of heat wash over her, enticing her to approach nearer – to take her shelter behind it. It wasn’t like Price had done anything different, no. It was simply the fact that he allowed her to take her place beside him every morning without fail, putting effort into brewing her tea correctly, and letting her take over the reigns of their budding relationship – giving her the control that she needed, unlike Agustine who had dominated over her at every second.

She couldn’t say for sure that Price felt similarly towards her. He never gave any inclinations that he did, but neither had he rebuffed her in any way, whatsoever. Months of operating under an entirely different identity meant that she didn’t want to shut in her feelings anymore. That resulted in a new quirk of hers: unless she had to – that is, in front of anyone else other than her dear ones – she didn’t stand in the way of her eyes’ tell-all. ‘The eyes are the window to the soul’, indeed. That, paired with Price’s undeniably sharp intuition, hinted at the idea that he knew of her sprouting crush on him.

Levina could only imagine what she looked like in his eyes. Did her eyes gleam in adoration? Did her gaze linger on him at dinnertimes shared with the boys? Grace knows, the others might have also picked up on her emotions if she did.

The station didn’t have books to turn to that could help her; there were no ‘An Idiot’s Way to Know If He Has a Crush on You’ or ‘Dating 101: How to Manage Your Crush’. She could technically talk to her roommates about it, initiate a classic boy-talk sleepover, but that would only create rumours and gossips – Grace forbids, what if she got caught wanting to fraternise and more with her superior? So, yeah, not the best idea to risk that.

That left her with one more material that she could turn to for aid: memories of Agustine.

Needless to say, that was immediately out of question. Though, perhaps she could refer to them as a guide on how to spot red flags in a man.

All that is to say, she might not know the nature of his feelings for her – and every day, hers only grew stronger – nevertheless, she was content with their current stage of relationship. If more would happen, that would be to her joy; but she wasn’t selfish, she would take what she can get.

Blessed by the Grace, however, it turned out that all her worrying about the reciprocity of her feelings would come to a halt one day. And that had come with news.

The first two weeks of her training had come and gone, and it was now the third week. Sometime before she had reached her window for lunch, Mordell had actually wrapped up the day’s schedule rather abruptly.

“Laswell wants to see you. Go freshen up and see her. You can have your lunch after that and then you’ve got the rest of the day free.”

Levina did just as he ordered and visited Laswell’s office once she had showered. Lunch had already started so the quietness of her path on the way there felt oddly eerie to her. The uncanniness to her day so far only foretold the news that would be shared to her, however, where she would then be stood in front of Laswell as the earth-shattering words flowed out of the Station Chief’s mouth.

Her ears rang with screams and cries that sounded familiar to her, accompanied by a blaring siren as words of condolences and apologies began filling her head. Her eyes were locked onto the screen of the computer that Laswell had swivelled so that she could see two pictures of a girl, at different ages, and her listed details beside it.

Name: Aurora Riven (006)

Acquisition: March 27th, 2007 (8 years old)

Sold: October 16th, 2015 (16 years old)

Bid Price: $3,000,000

Bidder: Jake Griffon

The top picture had been exactly how Levina remembered her sister. Wide-eyed and innocent, she was just a child- she was eight, for fuck’s sake! Her pigtails were dishevelled, bangs unkempt, and her face was streaked with uncountable tear stains and swipes of blood. Her frightened expression here would forever haunt her.

The picture below it was the one she had seen back in February. Presumably when she was sixteen – a commemorative picture taken for the day she had been sold. Her appearance was tidy, the absence of a hair out of place and bloodstains were a sharp contrast to the first picture. Her smile here reminded Levina of Tara Darwin but whereas both Tara and Aurora seemed to be genuinely smiling, despite the years of absence, Levina knew her sister enough to tell that the latter was faked. How much had her sister gone through to have learnt how to pass off her expressions as sincere – Grace, she didn’t want to think about it.

But she had to, because reality was that and they were both living in it.

Bile made its way up her throat and she had to quickly swallow it down with great effort. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes and this, she unfortunately couldn’t keep at bay. Laswell understood though, and she didn’t bring it up nor condemn Levina for it, sympathy clear in her eyes and her tone as she addressed the only other person in the room.

“As I’ve said, the mission was a success and we now have their system’s data on our side.”

Levina couldn’t even feel the relief if she wanted to. She only barely registered Laswell’s words in her chaotic mind.

“We’ve recognised that the name ‘Jake Griffon’ was one of the big-name buyers in your intel and we’ve ran the numbers on the records. He has bought over eight people from Agustine; it seems that she was the first.”

She took a sharp inhale.

The first. The insinuation was heavy; Griffon would’ve treated the first one he bought as an experiment before he had decided that he wanted more.

The first. Aurora had no one to relate to and she would have been all alone to fend for herself.

The first.

A pause.

Memories began invading her mind of all the times Griffon had come up as a topic in Agustine’s meetings.

“Another one?! We all know he’s loyal to that first bitch he bought- why’d he come back?!”

“They say that the beau he first took in was an easy sell. Wish I was buying then; would’ve snatched her right up from all those disgusting men!”

“What was the feedback he gave when he first came back to buy a second one? “Need me another one of those pliable bitches that you sell”, wasn’t it?”

…

Oh.

And that wasn’t even the end of the list.

Oblivious to the severity of Levina’s mind fracture, Laswell continued. “As someone who holds a high number of victims with him, he is now amongst the top target to prioritise. As of now, I am unable to tell you when an attack on him will be launched, but I will let you know once I can.”

Taking Levina’s silence as her shortage of things to add, Laswell dismissed her soon after.

Levina had one hand up on the wall as she walked away from the room. She was terrified that if she let go, there wouldn’t be anything to ground her into the real-world. But her suppressed bile had decided to come back and she couldn’t hold it in this time.

Disoriented as she ran towards the direction she was sure was to the nearest bathroom, she collided against something in full force and only stayed upright because a pair of hands held her shoulders firmly.

“Riven?”

She couldn’t even feel relieved at seeing the balaclava-clad man through her tears and weakly slapped at his arms to indicate that she wanted to be released. She’d voice it out but her lips were preoccupied with keeping shut so that the bile wouldn’t shoot up her throat, a task helped only by one hand covering her mouth securely.

Ghost did as she signalled and she wasted no time in dashing off, apologies and guilt in the back of her mind, leaving him staring after her disappearing figure in confused concern. He had seen the panic and grief crystal clear on her quivering figure which had immediately alarmed him. Never the person who others would seek out for consolation, however, he could only obey her silent request and before he knew it, she was gone. At a loss, he switched his target destination and walked back where he had come from, back into the dining hall again where his team was looking up at him in surprise.

“’Sup, Lt., you forgot sum’n?”

Shaking his head, he pointed his thumb towards the door.

“Riven- she uh… she was crying?”

Instantly, he had all of their full attention.

“What?!”

“Who-”

“Fuck, she must’ve talked to Laswell-” Now, that got his – and the others’ – attention. “where’d she-”

“The nearest bathroom from Laswell’s.”

A breeze, and the man was gone.

The three of them watched, stunned, as Price rushed out of the hall in record time. He hadn’t even bothered returning his tray, his primary concern set on Levina and all other thoughts pushed behind her.

“Should we…”

Gaz shook his head, regret crossing his features. “Price seemed to know what’s going on – we don’t. Might just make things worse if we show up.”

“Right.”

Sure, they’d seen Price move with agility – because despite his older age, he was a trained soldier – but those times were in the field and with his life on stake. Never, did they think, they’d ever see him move with such urgency for some girl unless it was an emergency. Except, it wasn’t just some girl in this case, was it?

Levina Riven had grown into their hearts, one way or another, and they genuinely loved the woman. A tribute to her name, she had struck Agustine out of the blue and torn down his empire from the top of his ranks – or at least, she was the reason for its current fall. The suddenness of her arrival in the form of her abrupt takeover of Agustine in his office that fateful day had gained her all their respects, which only continued to grow as they got to learn her character; her warmth, strength, and genuineness, among others. They couldn’t even begin to imagine what she had to go through in those seven months, dangling herself at the mercy – or lack thereof – of a heinous man. Yet, here she was, standing tall in the faces of her ghosts and conquering them one by one. It pinched at their hearts to know that she was currently suffering, but Gaz was right. If anything, they were glad that she had at least Price to confide in her troubles at the moment; he was a good man.

A good man who was presently clutching at his patience outside the ladies’ bathroom.

If he listened closely – mind you, his ears had years of training to pick up even the tiniest of sounds – he could hear heart-wrenching sobs echo from the door in front of him. Uncontrollable cries and sharp gasps continuously rained down from her and he could do nothing but listen as his heart shattered bit by bit. Fuck, he thought, she’ll come out when she’s ready.

But what if she wants someone right now?

She had no idea he was there so even if she did seek a comforting presence, she wouldn’t know that she had one right outside two sets of doors. That in mind, he brought a fist out and tapped it against the door hard enough for her to hear.

“Riven?!”

A pause in her weeping, only sniffles sounded. That meant that she had heard him.

“It’s John! I’m here if you need anything! Or- tell me to leave if you’d prefer that!”

He had missed the sound of her cubicle opening but he perked up at the sound of a tap running. Taking a step back so that he wouldn’t overwhelm Levina with his figure, her footsteps against the floor soon approached and the door opened slowly.

“John?”

The crack in her voice took his heart down with it.

“Oh, lov’ie- c’mere.”

His invitation brought around a fresh set of tears and he easily caught her when she rammed into his chest, her arms looping around his torso in seek of something to ground her.

Upon feeling one hand softly caressing her back and another gently running down her hair, the comfort that he brought had tugged on her vulnerability and she allowed herself to wail, unrestrained, in the safety of his arms. His scent, smoky and woody, hazed over her mind soothingly, quelling the horrific thoughts that had taken advantage of her solitude and had ambushed her.

“I’m sorry, Aurora- ‘m so sorry-”

“Shh, not your fault, love. She knows it’s not your fault.”

Levina shook her head, her memories haunting her relentlessly. “I’m a monster- Grace, I let him touch me!”

“Hey- hey, now. Look at me, lov’ie.”

She pulled back only enough so that she could face him. “There you are – not a monster, no.”

“But-”

He shook his head resolutely. His hand moved from her hair to cradle her cheek delicately, thumb wiping away her tears as they fell.

“All I see is a strong woman, heart full of love and so, so beautiful. A force to be reckoned with; someone who has gone through so much because she was determined to save her sister.”

The tenderness in his tone was reflected in his eyes. She could feel his conviction that was entwined into the blue, his secure belief in his soft words.

“A devoted daughter whose parents are beyond proud of. A person whom we all love and care for because she deserves it – deserves to be loved and appreciated for all the good that she’s done selflessly.”

And she’s crying again, now for a different reason.

Her hands clutched the back of his shirt tightly as she searched his face of any hint of lies – of wavering confidence – and finding not even one speck of it in his entire being. She buried her face into his shoulder, heart full of love – true to his words – and gratitude for the man.

“Grace, John. You can’t just say that so- so confidently like that!”

His shoulders shook when he let out a light laugh. “I only say it because it’s true, love. Wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t sure even a tad.”

She felt him drop a kiss on top of her head and she tightened her arms around him. His confession of what he thought of her had taken her breath away, rendering her speechless as thoughts of him filled her with endless affirmations that she was a good person – someone deserving of love because she loved.

She loved her sister and she had done what she could to bring her home. There was nothing she could do to rectify the entire ordeal, their fates had been sealed that day of the home invasion, but she could try now – and try, she would, to the best of her ability. Aurora would come home, she would make sure of it.

Unbothered by her lack of words, John simply held her right then, right there. His hands never stopped their reassuring caress as he patiently waited for her sniffles to die down to a steady breath. Grace, she loved this man.

Unkeen to show up in the dining hall in her state, John led her to his office instead. His hand fixed itself onto the small of her back, not forceful but steadying. The plan had been to let her rest in his office while he went and grabbed her something from lunch – anything more filling than the energy bar he had in his desk – but that flew out the window when they spotted three figures stood outside his door with two sets of wrapped sandwiches in the hands of one of them.

“Guys?”

Upon hearing Levina’s voice, their kicked-puppy expressions lit up as their heads turned to regard the approaching pair.

“Riv! And Cap.”

John huffed at the too-serious-to-be-sincere tone of disappointment Soap had used when addressing him. Though, with the way that had earned a giggle from the woman beside him, he’d let Soap off any day.

“Sorry I ran off on you earlier, Ghost. In my defence, I really did have to puke.”

“No harm, glad you’re a’ight now.”

She didn’t miss the worry that crossed their expressions and gave them what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Everyone entered the office once John had unlocked it, spreading around on the two couches facing each other that were separated by a wooden coffee table. She ended up in between Gaz and John, the latter on her right, and opposite Ghost and Soap, sandwich in hand. Figuring Ghost must have told the others of her earlier state, and hence, how John had known where she was, she decided to clear the air to ease them of their anxieties.

They listened attentively as she shared her sister’s current situation, how that had been her drive behind her long-con, and her belief that she was still alive based on what she had heard in Agustine’s meetings, however passing the remarks about her sister were. The boys shared their sympathies, cursing Agustine out and assuring her that her sister would come home. Their support touched her and John’s words repeated in her head.

A person whom we all love and care for because she deserves it.

They let the pair eat – because John had unceremoniously left lunch mid-way – while they began conversing about anything and everything. Recognising that she had had a rough day though, the trio left the pair to unwind. Unbeknownst to them, Soap had been about to naively question as to why Levina was staying at John’s but a quick pinch to his side from Ghost had shut him up quick.

It was a new venture, their flourishing relationship, and they silently agreed to keep matters private for the meantime as they endeavoured to see where it would take them. So, it was only when the door had shut after the boys that she allowed herself to inch closer to John, his arm instantly going around her back to hold her by her waist as she leaned against his side, head falling onto his shoulder. Her arms went to loop around him in a side-hug and she felt him tug her closer to plant his lips on her head, before resting his head on hers.

“She would’ve liked to meet you and the others. My mum, I mean.”

Her voice was low to match the serenity between them, fondness discernible in her words. Inevitably, her thoughts had fallen onto her mother whose life had been taken away too early – unfairly – by the hands of the home invaders who had taken away Aurora.

“Yeah? Would’ve loved to meet her too. Thank her for having raised an absolute dear.”

She hummed a pleased sigh, confession at the tip of her tongue. “We bonded over our love for love, growing up. H’ve always dreamt of falling in love, but mum made it hard because she’d always say, “they won’t deserve you, not until they’ve built you a fire that doesn’t consume, but gives”. Never knew what she meant until I’ve found one that gave me peace; gave me safety, comfort.”

His hand tightened its hold on her waist. “Someone’s built you one?”

She hummed, affirmative, lifting her head up to meet his eyes – the blue that had intensified under the utter adoration written over them.

“He’s been tending to it every morning.”

Fondness brought his lips up into a tender smile. He leaned in, slowly to give her time to react, and placed his lips onto hers in a soft touch. Their eyes fell shut for that brief moment. She felt his hand brush away her hair before cradling her face to hold her head steady when he pressed forward, pouring his affections into the kiss, before pulling away.

“I’d build you a home with a massive hearth to go with it too.”

She was certain that her eyes were shining with unbridled love, but she didn’t mind it for there was reciprocity in his eyes. “’m no good with architecture, but I’d at least give you a hand somehow.”

“So long as you’re there, love. I’d make sure the place is big enough to host the boys too. ‘nd your dad and sister.”

Grace, he knew her heart so well. “Family nights with everyone.”

“Mhm. Then there’re nights for the both of us.”

“I’d love that. W’d love everything about it; the hearth, the size… you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

The quietness – the peace. The domesticity of it all had been gradually lulling her to sleep. Her enervation fogged her brain, but she still had enough clarity to express her psyche truthfully. A content hum vibrated from her throat, like a cat purring under the affection it received, successfully tempting John to pet her head gingerly and further pulling her into unconsciousness. She blinked her eyes open, unsure when she had even closed them in the first place, and laid her feelings bare for John to see.

“Love you.”

His eyes glinted. He detected no inkling of deception in her words nor soul, and he could feel her emotions flow out of her to envelop him comfortably. His answer was clear – inherent in his mind, soul, and body – and nothing could stop him from conveying it to the one who had struck him with so, so much yearning. Levina was a once-in-a-lifetime wonder and he would hold onto her for as long as she allowed him to.

“I love you, too.”

She fell asleep not long after that, the warmth of her partner cozying her to dreamland. Blurry images of an unfamiliar interior accompanied by the distinct figures of her loved ones brought her an abundant of joy and she swore to turn it into a real-life memory one day.

A gentle stroke of her hair and a call of her name stirred her out of sleep. The dream-induced happiness was still present and when her bleary gaze fell onto John, she realised that that artificial happiness would never measure up to the genuine one that he sparked in her.

“Dinnertime, lov’ie. You up for that?”

She gave an affirmative hum and sat up – John must have laid her on the couch while she was asleep – stretching out her limbs to further bring herself awake. The admiration in John’s eyes, as he looked up at her from where he was crouched in front of the couch, knocked the breath out of her lungs and she could just feel the love, love, love swirling giddily in her.

Unable to resist her desires, she reached out to hold him by the juncture of his neck and head and leaned in to press a chaste kiss on his lips. He grabbed onto one of her hands and held it securely in his. Their hands remained clasped even as they made their way out of his office, only separating at the first sight of someone else. It was a mutual decision to do so, and she didn’t mind it – too much – because she valued her privacy for now.

The others were already in the dining hall by the time the couple got there. Relief washed over them at her well-rested appearance and the little smile playing on her lips, no doubt an effect of being with their captain. The pair seemed to almost glow in the presence of each other and the boys were glad that they had found each other.

After leaving Levina with John earlier, in the privacy of Ghost’s office, they were unconstrained in talking about the pair of lovebirds – all in good heart. They hadn’t missed the lovelorn eyes they would send each other when one wasn’t looking and, after realising just how bad her break down must have been upon learning the reason behind it, knowing that John had managed to bring her back to safety had confirmed their hypothesis.

Dinner that evening felt even more homely to Levina. Constant validation from John had turned on a new light to view herself and her boys – her additional family. She was loved and she deserved it, John’s words looped around her head, she was a good person and she loved with all her heart. She was more than her beauty – it was her heart’s beauty that made her who she was. No more pretences needed, she was safe and sound. Not broken.

With her newfound strength, the days seemed to pass by indistinctively. Most of her time was, of course, spent training under Lieutenant Mordell. She had her moments of rest from dinner until breakfast, finding refuge in the boys. It was soon the last day of her training where Mordell would have her run through every drill under his close watch. The day had started with waking up from a dreamless sleep, a warm shower to ease her nerves, and John.

They had met with a kiss as he handed over her cup of tea, before settling themselves into their usual position where Levina had her legs up and folded to the side with one arm looping round John’s back as she leaned into his side, his arm also rounding her back to hold her close by the waist. It was winter now but that didn’t stop them from putting on layers to battle against the cold.

“How’re you feeling today?”

She gave a hum, thinking over her words as she picked through her nerves. “Nervous- very. But I’ve also seen more approving nods from Lieutenant Mordell in the past week than ever, so I think I’ll do fine.”

“Mhm, ‘course you will. Ghost also has high hopes for you and you know he doesn’t give them out easily. You’ll do wonderful, love.”

Snuggling further into him, she breathed in his woody scent, feeling it soothe over her skin. His words tickled her heart and she allowed her flames to travel through her body to alleviate her burdens.

His confidence in her didn’t end there, however, and she found herself flushing lightly during breakfast as she stared at the unfamiliar soldier who had entered the dining hall with a bouquet in his arms.

“Delivery for one ‘Levina Riven’ from-” he squinted his eyes at the tag connected to the wrappings “-‘your Firestarter’?!”

So that was why John had decided to stay for breakfast.

The room had quietened down at the man’s exclamation and she could feel multiple eyes on her. Her blush clear on her cheeks, she avoided meeting anyone’s eyes as she got up from her seat to beeline straight to the man stood in front of the door. Hushed whispers gradually grew louder to a normal volume. Though, she could tell that some of the topics of conversations were centred around her. Exchanging a word of thanks with the deliverer, she carefully took hold of the bouquet and rushed back to her seat with the boys. She cleared her throat as she sat back down, trying to regain her composure but to no avail when she locked eyes with John.

The sweet smile playing on his lips were enough to still the world around them. She barely registered Gaz leaning over to catch a glimpse of the bouquet with a question directed at her. The outer corner of John’s eyes crinkled as he watched her every reaction, harsh lines softening his features that she wanted to trace with her fingertips – or lips – so badly. His eyes gleamed with pride at having caught her off-guard, gratified to see the warmth to her cheeks matching the pink Astilbes that stood tall amongst the Siberian Squills and yellow Peonies in her bouquet.

He nudged his head in the direction of her left, amusement radiating off of him. Levina turned, only to be met with Gaz’s teasing grin. It was then that she remembered that he had asked her something and she had yet to reply. A sheepish smile made its way to her lips, “sorry, what was that?”

“He asked if you’ve gone deaf.”

Soap proceeded to yelp when Ghost ruthlessly slapped him at the back of his head.

Gaz shook his head and nodded to the bouquet in her arms. “What’d he get you?”

“Oh,” her eyes flickered around the pastel palette, “uhh… I think these ones’re peonies?”

Helpless at identifying the flowers, she looked to John whose smile had not faltered the slightest. He gave an airy chuckle at her lost expression and fought the urge to lean over for a kiss when she pouted at him. One by one, he named the flowers and gave a short explanation for each of their meanings.

Patience, “I will be waiting for you”. Hope and perseverance. Good luck.

The boys’ crooning filled her ears but her mind was fully entranced by her sight and John’s echoed voice.

The Siberian Squills encouraged her to stay strong – that it would all go well in time, so long as she kept her spirits. The best wishes he conveyed through the yellow Peonies were charming. It reminded her of the breathtaking kiss that he had given her earlier this morning – a ‘good luck’ kiss, he had said. The pink Astilbes; they’ve long revealed their thoughts on one another, so what could he be waiting for? They’ve yet to unclothe each other so, perhaps it could be about that? But, no; she understood him enough to know that he wouldn’t display that patience out of the blue – he would never risk an impression that would pressure her to bare her body like that, not after what she had gone through.

The other two flower types had something to do with their jobs; that she’d get her sister back in due time and that she’ll manage today’s intensive training’s final inspection well. And then what? Once she had passed that, she’ll be given assignments to complete, and she can’t do that if she didn’t have a team. The decision as to where she would end up all depended on who wanted her, which captain-

Oh?

Captain John Price.

John was a captain.

She had long forgone calling him ‘Captain’ unless someone else, bar her boys, was present that she’d forgotten he was one. Stories of Captain Price were commonly regulated around the compound; tales regaling his competence, his unfailing capability, the long list of his accomplishments. She had heard others share their desires to operate under his orders – that he was a famously sought-after man in the Army. The Captain Price who led TF141 with dignity.

The John Price who loved her, and she, him.

Her John.

Surely he hadn’t meant-

Her hands paused in its subconscious brushing of the petals as she lifted her head. His eyes were already on her – Grace, did he even look away once? – and he raised an eyebrow in question when he registered the uncertain surprise on her face. Right, she thought, he can’t read minds.

Shaking her head to get rid of her theories – because she’ll know the outcome of her team appointment in the coming days anyway – she gave him an appreciative smile that she hoped had passed along the emotions from the bottom of her heart. Her mind began to wander as to where she might find a vase in the station as she laid her eyes on the blooming buds again, her fingers moving from petals to petals to feel the smooth texture as the non-imposing fragrance wafted over her nose.

The final inspection went great. Though, she had been surprised by the existence of an audience at every station of the drills. Apparently, the newbies’ trainer had given the men some time off that day and had told them of the occurrence of her drills.

“Told ‘em I’d be testing a returning veteran on her foundations,” Mordell had told her when she had first spotted the fresh faces surveying her, “guess they wanted to see an example of what they could be by the end of their newbie training.”

Oh, the subtle but heavy pressure he had placed on her shoulders.

But that went alright!

The boys had given her a round of congratulations when they met again at dinnertime. Finally the end of eight continuous weeks of maximum effort, the boys had promised to treat her to a night of drinks that weekend. John had then walked her back to her room and had left her breathing heavily in front of her closed door with a heated kiss.

Thank Grace, he had left before she entered her room because the other girls had been in and, judging by their knowing grins, they had a fairly good idea what had caused her face to flush. They didn’t pry though, only voicing out their light-hearted envy at the vase of flowers that she had decided would suit the room – the girls had agreed too.

Then, she had woken up to snowfall.

Standing at the doorway to the barracks, she reached a hand out to catch the snow with her ungloved palm. Mesmerised by the glittering flakes, and assured with the belief that the only other person who would see her then would be John, she hadn’t heard his footsteps approach behind her and startled slightly when she heard his gruff voice and felt a pair of hands reaching for her waist.

“You’ll catch a cold, love.”

Pivoting on the spot, her face lit up and John was quick to give her a peck on her lips. She took her cup from him and let the warmth fuel her blood when she took a sip.

“Mm, it’s pretty though.”

Upon her revelation that she wanted to watch the snowing sky, he turned her back around and stepped in so that she had her back flush against his chest and wrapped his arms around her midriff, thereupon she could enjoy the sight while still having him pressed up against her.

She felt dizzy knowing that John would satisfy her requests without question.

They shared their plans for the day. Due to the weather showing no signs of stoppage, schedules had been halted and plans were limited to indoor activities. Coincidentally, the times they had set aside for the gym had intersected and oh, how torturous of a time it had been for the both of them.

The immense size of the gym had not – could not – stop their eyes from wandering.

They worked on themselves separately and there was a considerable amount of distance between them even as they moved from one machinery to the other. Once they had a set going on, their focus rendered them oblivious to the world and it just so happened that when one of them were deep into their workout, the other would be resting. Hence, they had not even noticed each other eyeing them up with need burning in the other’s gaze.

Each had their own ardent tension plaguing their minds that evening, and it all came to a head the next day, where they had shared a fervid moment that morning that only teased them with what was to come that night.

It was a Saturday morning – the weekend night out with the boys was to happen that night. The couple had found themselves in the same position as the morning prior, except it wasn’t snowing. The dawn air was chilly enough to avoid though, so they stayed indoors and only gazed out the window.

Or, at least, Levina was doing that while John had his face buried into the juncture of her neck.

Their individual tensions, brought over from the other day, had coalesced into a palpable haze dancing around them. Unwilling to let it cloud his mind, John allowed himself to only pepper her skin with lingering kisses, unaware of the effect he was making on her. When he had unknowingly nudged on a sensitive area near her pulse point, she accidentally let a whimper escape her throat and it was only then that he paused. Having mistaken the noise as a sound of protest in his panic, a string of apologies immediately left his lips as he lifted his head up, only to stop abruptly when his breath got caught in his throat upon seeing her face.

Levina had been worrying her lower lip with her teeth in an attempt to suppress the noises she had been wanting to make ever since John had started his ministration on her neck. That had given her a naturally pouty lip that only brought upon chaos in John’s mind. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cool air and the heat of his touch, his scent – him. And then, there were her eyes that had rendered his brain static; his thoughts only on her and her alone.

Having to look up at him due to their heights, her eyes opened rather widely and he could nearly see his reflection if he tried hard enough. Her eyelash batted at him innocently, a far cry from the thoughts running uncontrollably in her mind; the thoughts that she was sure he could get a read on by the look in her eyes. They were almost teary, shining in the dim lights of the barracks and the subtle glow of the waking sun. Her desire was clearly written on them, with a hint of plead for him to cease his teasing kisses and to do something-

And who was he to deny her needs?

It was a miracle that his coffee didn’t spill over with how fast he had been in swooping down and capturing her lips. Surprised by his fervour but beyond pleased with it, a reflexive moan echoed from her throat which he eagerly swallowed down. She adjusted herself to face her body towards him and brought her unoccupied hand up to tangle itself in his hair. His arms around her waist tightened their hold and pulled her closer towards him – he had to rapidly calm himself down once he felt her clothed breasts press up against him.

Their tongues met in a messy dance. Breaths were exchanged with a rush of hot air, the occasional sighs adding into the mix. His hand roamed her back, up her spine to her nape, where he held her head steady as he pulled back slightly. Her whine at the loss of his lips promptly turned into a gasp when he attacked her neck instead. But unlike the earlier pecks he planted throughout her skin, he went straight to the spot that had elicited a whimper out of her and bit into it lightly. To allay the – pleasurable – pain, he proceeded to lick and suckle at her skin, drawing out mewls after mewls from her. He tasked himself to locate as many of her sweet spots as he could, up her neck and down to her shoulders.

“Oh, John…”

The breathy tone of her voice calling out to his name earned her a groan out of the man. As if that wasn’t enough to heat her up, his assault on her skin had ramped up a notch and she found herself putty in his arms. Grace, she would just have to change her underwear later with how damp she could feel herself get. He had also given her enough material to reminisce tonight when she would have to relieve herself of her lust; from the way his eyes had darkened when he had noticed just how desperate he had made her, to the stiffness she could feel prodding into her thigh.

Honing into the area that she seemed the most responsive to yet, he nipped at it mercilessly.

“Ah- h-”

He soothed the reddened patch with kitten licks, giving a final wet kiss onto it before he lifted his head up to plant a chaste kiss on her lips. His eyes strayed to the ruined state of her neck and collarbones, appreciating the cherry marks scattering the expanse of her exposed skin, then to her debauched face – watery eyes, flushed cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, and lust all over her expression.

“Fuck, love. Y’look so pretty all ruined like this.”

Her lips curled up at his compliment, a personification of seductive in her smile and breathless voice. “Yeah? Wanna look pretty for you.”

“Shit-” she was going to be the death of him. He returned to his lips onto hers and muttered in between kisses, “ always so pretty for me, love. So good f’me.”

She hummed, content and in bliss.

They both knew that they had a time limit – and despised it. That in mind, they forcefully slowed down to innocent – not really – kisses accompanied by praises shared under their breaths. They had to excuse themselves to their bathrooms before the barracks came alive lest someone walked in on their dishevelled state; John, to alleviate himself of the pressure in his pants, and Levina, to conceal the marks that remained exposed despite her jacket – except, she had missed one and had to enlist her bunk-mate’s help when the latter had pointed it out with a teasing grin. Bless her heart, her roommate had not asked any questions.

The rest of the day went as planned. The boys and Levina had lunch at the compound before they all left with permissions from the signed short-leave form for the day. The five of them occupied John’s car as he had volunteered to be the driver for the day, who then gave everyone a ride to their respective places to spend the rest of the day before they would reconvene in the evening. Levina’s place had been the second nearest so she alighted the car once it stopped in front of her apartment.

“Text me when you’re leaving, hm?”

John had rolled down his window and she turned to him, momentarily stupefied by the sight of him with one hand on the steering wheel and a casual arm draped over the window. She gave an affirmative hum as she flicked her eyes back from the muscles enhancing his arm to his eyes, which twinkled upon having caught her gawking at him.

She gave him a sheepish smile, “drive safe, love.”

“Will do.”

Ignoring the two other men in the car – they already knew of their relationship even without having to tell them – she leaned down and gave John a peck on his lips.

“See you tonight.”

Leaving him with her whisper chiming in his head, she walked up the path to the building and accessed the front door with her key card. She gave her dad a hug once she made it to her unit and leaned against the kitchen counter as she waited for the kettle to boil.

“He drove you here then, your John?”

“Mhm. Dropped Soap off first, then, it was me. Ghost and Gaz are next.”

“Driving you back later? After the pub?”

“Yep! He won’t be drinking, so you can relax, dad.”

She grinned knowingly when he gave an approving nod as he considered her words, muttering something about John being a responsible man.

Never one to judge her love life, she had no qualms in telling her dad over the phone about John the day after the couple had gotten together. Her sister’s circumstances still confidential, she could only cite that previous day as a ‘particularly hard time’ to her dad and shared with him how John had managed to get her back on her feet. How he had chosen to comfort her over finishing his lunch, the way he had not held back from confessing his true thoughts of her – unlike the boys in high school who avoided doing that in fear of their broken masculinity – and the safety and love that his fire gave her, just like her mother had always said.

Her dad had consoled her when tears had threatened to escape as she remembered that day, and he had voiced out his gratitude for John after all that she had told him. But dad would, of course, always be dad, and he was undoubtedly protective of his daughter. Though, knowing how happy John made her, her dad’s worries were at least somewhat assuaged.

They spent the afternoon talking in the living room until she had to prepare for the night out. This being the first time she could have an extended rest since her intensive training had started, she was determined to pamper herself.

One long shower later, she had her hair up in a towel-twist and she was sat in her vanity, delicately putting on her makeup. Having spent most of her teenage and adult years in the military meant that makeups were a rare treat so she stuck to the style that she knew and only accentuated her features with cosmetics – and to cover the marks on her neck. Then, it was her hair’s turn to focus on and she dedicated enough time to style the wolf cut properly instead of leaving it up to the permed waves to do its job. By the end of it all, she applauded herself on a job well done as she stared at herself in the mirror.

The Evil Queen could never, she thought.

After mulling it over for a while – more time than she should, really – she picked out a black semi-sweetheart tube top to go with a pair of jeans, and a black jacket over it to shelter her from the cold. Spraying her perfume once she managed to zip the curve-defining top up, she grabbed her purse to pack the things she might need. Aside from the necessities, she brought her travel-sized makeup products in case she wanted to touch up her face and then a thought crossed her mind. Glancing at her mirror, she surveyed her collarbone area where she knew John’s marks laid. She would rather keep it hidden from her dad when she had to see him later, but John?

…so pretty all ruined like this.

Her cheeks flushed lightly at the low voice echoing in her mind. Right, she thought, that was a decision made for her. She fitted a small bottle of makeup remover and a couple of cotton pads to go with it into her purse and searched for her phone for the time. Not late, plenty of time. Though, as she scrolled through her notifications, some of the boys were beginning to leave so she might as well. Giving herself a final once over in the mirror, she grabbed her selected heels for the night and exited her room.

“Look at you! You look gorgeous, sweetheart!”

She grinned at her dad and pecked his cheeks in thanks. Ordering herself a ride, she bid her father goodnight and went downstairs to wait for its arrival. Once she was on her way, she sent a quick message to the others and shared her location upon Ghost’s demand. It was a silent ride and she gave her thanks to the driver when they made it to their location.

She aimed straight for the semi-circular booth at the far left-hand corner where John had saved a table for them and spotted him and Soap already there. Their senses sharp, they had noticed her approaching and Soap sent her a wave.

“Lev!”

“Hey Soap! John,” she gave the latter a greeting kiss after she had entered the booth to take her place next to him. His arm immediately slithered past her back to hold her waist securely.

“You look stunning, love.”

“Yeah? So do you, John,” she glanced down to his chest where she could see his shirt hugging his muscles and involuntarily bit her lip. “You look good.”

His hand gripped her waist tighter and she knew her gawping had been caught red-handed. She feigned innocence and returned his heavy gaze with a sweet smile before turning to look at the other occupant at the table, trying to ignore the heat in her gut that had been ignited.

Ghost and Gaz arrived soon after and the first round of drinks went by in a flash. Conversations were had, laughs were shared, and playful debates were brought up. When Gaz had gone to the bar to get them more drinks, Levina excused herself to ‘touch up her makeup’.

In the bathroom, she wiped the stretch of her neck clean of products and reapplied her lipstick, taking her jacket off too seeing as it was rather warm indoors. Once she was satisfied, she re-entered the pub just as Soap walked past her towards the men’s bathroom. He gave a low whistle when he caught sight of the marks and she shot him a proud grin.

“Look at you! Poor lass got herself mauled by a beast!”

He then assured her that he would give them more time alone than the bathroom needs him – Ghost had gone ahead to help Gaz with bringing the drinks over – giving her a high-five for the fun of it. His positive reaction had fuelled her confidence even more and she let herself saunter up to the booth. It was only when she was close enough could John make out the marks littering her skin in the glow of the lights.

“Fuck.”

John already had trouble keeping his eyes away from her exposed skin ever since she had first walked into the pub, only for her to expose more and reveal the evidence of his claim on her.

Grace, the tease.

His eyes dipped to her neckline and spanned across her bare collar, tracing each fading mark up her shoulders to her neck. He readily reached an arm out to pull her closer by her hips when she made to sit next to him, his other hand going up to trail his fingers over the pink skin. The marks that he had made on her – his marks.

His Levina.

He finally looked up to meet her eyes and nearly groaned upon seeing the pride and confidence in them. “Shit, love. D’you like ‘em that much?”

She rested her arms on his shoulders and linked her hands behind him, keeping him from straying away – not that he ever would. She hummed, the sound tantalising to his ears.

“Very. Do you not like them?”

The obvious pouty tone to her words allured him and his lips were on hers before he knew it. The muffled whimper she made went straight to his lap and he had to resist the need to have her on top of him at that moment. Pulling away slightly, distantly aware that they were very much in public, he managed to make out his words in a gruff.

“Course I do, lov’ie. So much so, I’m tempted to give you more now.”

She giggled when his lips slipped downwards and began kissing her chin, down to the neck. “Can’t do, John. The others’ll be here soon.”

This time, he did groan into her neck, frustrated at the cockblock.

She pulled his head out of the juncture below her ears and gazed deeply into his eyes, her next word full of promises and yearning.

“Later.”

There was no hint of hesitancy in her tone nor expression. She had only had a mocktail thus far and had another glass of juice coming up so they both knew she was clear-headed. The heavy desire running through her bones showed in her eyes and John knew he was fucked.

The boys then came in to break their staring contest, teases at the tip of their tongues. John only grunted in response though, brain too frazzled to think of a comeback when Levina had her hand resting on his thigh dangerously.

They nursed themselves to two more rounds of drinks before they had to call it a night when Soap wouldn’t stop singing into their ears and the topics of their talks gradually became sadder and sadder. They also had to suddenly pull Ghost back – all hands on deck – when he almost walked straight into the glass door without any indication of opening it.

The car was blanketed in a comfortable silence during the ride back to base. Three of them had alcohol buzzing in their blood, enough to render them serene and, in Gaz’s case, knocked out. The fully-conscious pair helped them into the barracks where they then insisted that they would be fine alone.

“We’re not gon’ leave you blue-balled no more. ‘ve a safe sex, lass, Cap’n.” Soap had whispered, or at least tried to. It came out more like a series of hushed gibberish.

That had pulled out a shy grin from Levina and a sigh from John. Only when the boys had turned around the corner did the couple look to each other.

He closed the distance between them and brushed her hair away from her face, taking in her patient smile with one of his own. “You sure about this?” She hummed affirmatively and was about to nod when his hold on her chin stopped her. “Words, darling.”

His assertive tone had her biting her lip as she shyly blinked up at him. “Yes, John. Want you to have me,” Her hand trailed up to hold his cheek, feeling the rough scratch of his beard on her palm, “as much ‘s I want to have you.”

“You have me, love. Always have.”

He surged in to plant a short, but heavy, kiss on her lips. “Shall we?”

She hummed again but paused when she remembered his words, “yes, please.”

With an arm wrapped around her back, he led her towards his room.

His room was quaint. It was evident that John tended to spend more time in his office than his bedroom when her eyes fell on the neat stacks of papers decorating his desk. Otherwise, the place lacked any notable decorations and was simply very John.

How charming, she thought fondly.

His eyes were already on hers when she turned back to him. As if he could guess her thoughts, his eyes softened and he tugged her to his chest, her arms going around his neck to stabilise herself. He dipped his head low to meet her lips softly and she couldn’t help but smile into the kiss at his tenderness.

She pressed forward and tilted her head to deepen the kiss and he followed suit. His hands wandered upwards to her shoulders where he grabbed hold of her jacket. Receiving his hint, she shrugged off the garb and let him toss it aside in the vague direction of his chair – it ended up on the floor and she breathed out a laugh when the thump sounded. A shiver coursed through her at the feel of his wandering hands before his lips parted from hers to start leaving kisses down to her shoulders instead. He paved a path of light kisses connecting the old marks, then, up to her ears where he whispered for her to, “jump.”

Her trust in him unwavering, she obeyed his request straight away and wrapped her legs around his hips just as his hands caught her by her thighs without as much as a grunt. Their lips met again, more heated this time, as he brought them to the edge of his bed to lay her gently onto the sheets. Her breaths hitched when his lips began to nip onto the uncharted territory, that was her sternum, while his hands moved up and back to feel out for her zipper. His movements as he unzipped her top was slow, always giving her the silent opportunity to stop him in case she changed her mind. His consideration struck her heart with more affection and she lifted his head up to give him a short giggly kiss of gratitude. That brought a fond smile out of the man, his endearment for her growing upon seeing her joy.

Finally, the zipper unlatched and he pulled the top off of her body, adding it onto the growing pile without taking his eyes away from her. The darkening of his gaze as he studied her body with the intention of etching it onto his brain only added fuel to the fire in her gut and she couldn’t help but let out a whine when he made no move to touch her.

“Hm?” Understanding her wordless cue, his hands moved up from her clothed hips to map out her bare skin. Up her waist, in towards her stomach, up again to catch her breasts in both hands. A gasp left her when he thumbed her nipples gingerly and the first moan of the night, in a series of many. escaped her when he pinched them harshly, just a touch away from pain. “’s this what you wanted, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please…”

The breathy tone of her voice aroused him further and he leaned in to place a kiss on her chest. “Y’don’t need to worry, sweetheart. ‘m gonna take care of you.”

Another kiss onto her breast, “my pretty girl.”

One more, nearer to her bundle of nerves, “so beautiful.”

She could feel his beard tickle her bud this time, “fuck, the things you do to me.” And then he took one nub in his mouth.

A broken moan sounded from her as he swirled, flicked, and pressed his tongue against her nipple, his hand coming up to mimic the actions on her other breast. She keened when he sucked on it lightly and she subconsciously pushed his head closer to her chest.

“Jo-hn-”

He hummed in acknowledgement without pausing in his movements. Switching to latch onto the other breast, the cool air hitting her wet bud as his fingers toyed with it alongside his mouth playing with the other sent a rough wave of pleasure to her cunt and she felt herself gush before she knew it, her eyes crossing involuntarily. “Fuck!”

With the way her legs twitched around his hips in the aftershock of her mini-orgasm, it was unavoidable that he realised what had just occurred. He let go of her nub with a wet pop and grinned at her in wonder. “Did you just cum, sweetheart?”

A flush made its way to her cheeks and she smiled sheepishly. “I think so? ‘s never happened before.”

“Fuck, love. That’s hot.”

He recaptured her lips with speed while his hands drifted to her hips to undo her jeans, hooking his fingers into her bottom garments to tug it down her legs. She lifted her hips up to aid in his task and let him discard her pants and underwear at once, leaving her completely nude under his touch.

Separating himself from her, he got down on his knees and brought her legs up onto his shoulder to plant kisses up her calf to her thigh. He then pushed her thighs open wider which prompted her to lift her legs up to plant her feet on the edge of the bed comfortably, thus, exposing her glistening cunt to his hungry eyes.

He traced a finger up her slit, gathering her dampness up to her clit which he pressed gently before rubbing it in tight circles. Listening to her trembling breaths for any indication of her pleasure, he stopped his ministrations and, instead, prodded her entrance with his middle finger. Considering her state, it slipped in with ease and he added in another finger after a few thrusts. Feeling the stretch, little slips of moans left her throat which quickly turned into a mewl when he curled his fingers upwards. Once he had found her sweet spot, he massaged it gently to pull out more noises from her. Only the best for his lover, doubtlessly, he leaned in to flick his tongue against her swollen clit. Taken by surprise for her eyes were currently closed, an unrestrained moan echoed in the room when his lips engulfed her clit to administer similar movements as he had done to her nipples earlier.

The lewd sounds as he lapped and sucked on her only fogged their minds in more lust. With the desperate and earnest attention he gave her clit while his fingers pumped in and out and curled against her sweet spot, it didn’t take long for her to feel another orgasm approach.

“John! ‘m gonna cum- ha-”

She didn’t even know that his actions could get any more intense but he managed it somehow. The coil in her guts tightened harshly before, all at once, it loosened up and unravelled, sending waves upon waves of pleasure through her body. His name left the tip of her tongue as her eyes rolled back reflexively, her hands clenching the bedsheet underneath her tightly and her legs stiffening in place as he guided her in riding out her orgasm. The pleasure eventually became too much and her hands flew to his head to push it away from her sensitive nerves. His fingers slowed down its thrusts into an eventual stop and he pulled them out as he rose from his knees to level his head above hers.

He allowed a moment to admire the sight of her post-orgasmic state; eyes gleaming with unshed tears and lips parted as she panted for air. Giving her space to catch her breath, he kissed her down her neck appreciatively, only returning to her lips once her breaths had evened out slightly.

“Mm, you did so good for me, love. My good girl, hm?”

“Yours…” She gave a satisfied hum, tasting her sweet tang on his tongue.

Her hands went under his shirt to get a feel for his muscles and he pulled away briefly to take off the clothing. She tracked her fingers all around his torso, pressing into his flesh lightly as she memorised each section of stiff muscles and soft fats that formed his body that she loved so much. The awe in her expression as she eyed his body gave him more confidence than he knew what to do with, choosing to take this opportunity to shed off the rest of his clothes instead. She zealously drank in the sight of him in all his glory, her eyes falling onto his hand stroking his length languidly.

He pulled her closer to the edge of the bed and she lifted her upper body up, resting on her propped-up elbow behind her. Reaching in between them, she wrapped a hand around his girth, biting her lips upon feeling the angry veins running across his skin as she caressed him up and down. The sound of his breath hitching brought her eyes back to his and she was shameless in conveying her need through her stare. Unable to resist her allure, he rested an arm on the bed and caught her lips in a feverish kiss, leaving them breathless when he asked, “condom?”

She shook her head. “IUD. And clean. You?”

“Clean.”

The teasing grin on her lips was as bewitching as any and her eyes seemed to gleam under the lights. As she swiped her thumb over the tip of his cock, she invited, “have me, John. ‘m yours.”

“Yeah? You’ve got me, too, lov’ie- fuck,” he grunted when she squeezed her hand around the head as she pumped him shallowly, drawing out a bead of precum which she proceeded to smear over him. Decidedly not enough lubricant, she angled him down to rub the head against her slit, gasping when it caught onto her clit. He aligned his hips with hers for ease and moved it so that he was rubbing his length against her cunt, covering himself in her slick and priding himself in the little breathless moans she made. Once he paused in his movements, she took the chance to line up his cock against her cunt, meeting his eyes with so much certainty that he didn’t hesitate in pushing in slightly.

She whimpered when the head slipped in without resistance and watched the concern flicker in his eyes the more he filled her. He paused when she took a sharp inhale halfway in and opted instead to pull back slightly before thrusting forward in slow shallow thrusts. That helped her adjust to his size and he had her moaning softly soon enough. With every thrust, he slipped further in, bit by bit, as her sweet noises grew in volume along with his low grunts.

“Please…”

“Hm? What d’you need, sweetheart?”

Her voice was desirous, a reflection of her expression, as she whimpered out, “more, please.” At the last bit of length yet to enter her, he did as she pleaded and pushed forwards with force so that her hips were flush against his. “Oh, fu- hah-”

He gave her a moment of recess before starting out his thrusts at a faster rate, groaning at her tightness clenching down on him. Her hands searched for purchase in the sheets below her and he gave her right hand his left to hold onto instead, intertwining their fingers and letting her grip onto it as hard as she wanted.

The obscene squelch every time he drove into her had him looking down where their bodies met and he nearly moaned at the filthy sight of the white rings and streaks of fluid decorating his cock as her juices spilled onto the floor excessively. “Shit, love. You’re dripping. Creaming all over me, too.” She gave a whine, as if embarrassed, but he knew better. “So fucking wet for me, hm?”

Nodding, she glanced down to see his length covered in white liquid – her juices – and fuck, wasn’t that such an arousing sight? “Mm- ha… ‘s all yours, John. ‘m all wet f’you.”

Seeing her try to speak in between moans and pants to declare that she was his turned him on even more than he thought could be possible. Wanting nothing but bliss for her, he slanted his hips to aim his thrusts upwards and-

“John! Fuck! Ha… I- oh my…”

He delighted himself in hearing her nonsensical blabber as pleasure overtook her senses. Gone, were her rational thoughts, and all she wanted was to let him know just how good he made her feel.

“So good… fucking- ha- h- y’feel s’good…”

“Yeah? Fuck- y’feel so good too, lov’ie. So tight, so warm for me.”

At his praise, a little grin made its way to her lips, so innocent – so sweet – that it looked utterly erotic.

That triggered another wave of arousal over him and he could feel his edge approach in the far distance. He wouldn’t finish without her, however, and he trailed one hand down her body to circle her clit firmly. Her arms gave out below her and she fell back with a cry.

“Oh, my Grace. Oh, Grace- oh, fuck!” Her hand clutched his tighter as her pitch went higher and higher. Her other hand left the mattress and grasped onto his shoulder instead, digging her nails into him with every movement that brought her closer to the edge. “’m gonna cum- oh, fuck! ‘m c’mming!”

He tightened the circular motion of his thumb on her clit and pressed harder. “Yeah, sweetheart? Cum for me, darling- fuck!”

Arching her back off the bed, she came with a cry of his name and subconsciously clenched her walls around his cock. The added pressure added more pleasure and his speed faltered as he was brought nearer towards his own orgasm. He held it back and maintained his thrusts as best he could to help her ride out her orgasm and only gave in once she started cursing in oversensitivity. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck- fuck! ‘s too much-”

“Shit- Vina!”

He groaned lowly at his final thrust and kept his hips glued against hers as he unloaded himself in her. The feeling of warm liquid spurting out of him drew a long moan out of her and she eased her grip on him. He gave two more short thrusts to milk himself fully before pulling out of her with a grunt, watching as the mixture of their cum dribbled out of her spent cunt and joining the pool of her liquid underneath.

Leaning forwards to connect their lips in a lazy kiss, he brushed her hair away from her face and surveyed her expression worriedly. “You feeling alright, lov’ie?”

“Mhm…”

She pulled his head nearer for another kiss and he smiled into it when she wouldn’t let go. “H’v to clean you up, lov’ie.”

“’Kay…”

A laugh rumbled through him when she frowned and he gave her another short kiss to appease her. “I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

She gave another affirmative hum and he withdrew off of her to head to the – thankfully – en suite to grab a washcloth after running it through warm water. He returned to wipe her skin clean before doing the same to the bed and floor. Rummaging through his clean clothes, he put on his boxers and passed an extra pair to her, who had regained enough will to sit up and watch as he tidied up the pile of their discarded clothes.

Once he was done with everything, she extended her arms for a hug, only to yelp in gleeful surprise when he lifted her up instead. He settled her under the duvet, switched off the lights, and slipped right beside her, her limbs instantly reaching out for him to cuddle against. They made themselves as comfortable as they could in his cot and settled down tiredly, his left arm under her head and the other thrown over her while both her arms wrapped themselves around him securely. She gave a content hum and nuzzled into his chest, finding solace in his presence.

“It wasn’t too much?”

John’s voice was quiet in the dark, seeking for an answer to nip his anxiety in the bud. He felt Levina shake her head, her matching tone weaving into the moonlight peeking through his curtains.

“It was good- better than good. ‘t was wonderful.” She pressed a kiss onto his pec reassuringly. “Thank you.”

An understanding smile crossed his lips and he similarly placed a kiss on top of her head. “Don’t have to thank me, lov’ie. I’ll always take care of you, give you all the loving that you need. I’m yours.”

He glanced down when she lifted her head. They could barely see each other but the love they shared would always glow even in the darkest of days.

“I’m yours, too, John. Always.” Her hands caressed his back in slow brushes while he brought his hand up to stroke her hair gently. “I love you.”

His lips could only reach her forehead in their position but that didn’t stop him from pouring out his affections for her with his kiss. “I love you, too, Lev.”

She hummed and returned her head to snuggle into his chest. “G’night, John.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

Their minds were quiet that night. The phantoms of their terrors steered clear of them, unable to approach the protective shield erected by their mutual love, entwined while in the presence of one another.

When they woke up the next morning, they indulged in spending a moment of domesticity in bed, kisses here and there as they merely relished in each other’s warmth. When they felt ready to start the day, Levina left, wrapped in John’s clothes, with last night’s outfit in her arms to deposit them in her laundry. Once she took a shower in the women’s common bathroom and ensured that she had covered all of John’s lovingly-placed marks splattering her skin, she left for the common room where John had been waiting with two filled cups in hand. Cuddled up together on the couch, they spent most of their available moments together in content silence, mind, soul, and body still fulfilled from last night’s act of intimacy. The flame of the barracks hearth couldn’t compare to the blazing passion crackling in their hearts for each other.

Breakfast was filled with grumblings from the hangover men, much to Levina’s amusement. John had gone ahead to settle some paperwork and had found her again in the shooting range before lunch with a message from Laswell.

“Meeting in five, you’re needed.”

“Understood, Captain.”

They were good at keeping the affections in their tone at a respectable level. Though, it was obvious that they were at least slightly fond of each other with the way John lacked a certain sharpness to his eyes that presented itself around others, and the way Levina didn’t completely stiffen up like she does with other superiors.

A friendly distance between them, they made their way to Laswell’s office. Levina narrowed her eyes in suspicion when the door opened to show Gaz, Soap, and Ghost also present; she had a feeling where this was going but quietened her thoughts to not get her hopes up. Laswell didn’t dawdle any further and opened up the meeting after Levina had paid her respects.

“Sergeant Riven, you have completed your intensive training under Lieutenant Mordell three days ago and your file has been updated with the necessary changes since then. The captains have given their consideration over your file and,” Laswell pinned Levina with a raised eyebrow, “you are fairly popular, I must say.”

Thankfully, Levina was saved from having to form a reply when Laswell continued. “I’m sure you have caught onto the reason as to why you’re here so I won’t delay any further. Sergeant Riven, meet your new team.”

Levina inwardly buzzed with exultation, careful not to let her emotions slip out too much in her small smile. She spared the team – her team – a glance and was met with a grinning Soap and a smiling Gaz while Ghost and John sent her a nod. Her heart felt heavy with the pride reflecting in their eyes and she swore to herself to never let them down even a smidge. She then turned back to Laswell who had a satisfied look on her face. “I’d say ‘I hope you get along well’ but I trust that you already do.”

Laswell went through the administrative matters for the rest of the meeting and ended on the note that they had an assignment coming up in a couple of weeks and that more would be said about it in a meeting later that week. Afterwards, as they were walking towards John’s office to discuss team norms and culture, with Soap’s arm thrown over Levina’s shoulder and Gaz on her other side as Ghost and John followed closely behind, elation and chatter high in the air, she knew she belonged.

When their assignment rolled in two months later, their immense success only proved her right. No casualties nor fatal wounds on their side, their task goal achieved, and no surprise ambushes; needless to say, they had celebrated it with a few rounds of drinks.

They had grown closer, the boys and Levina. They had come to the point that she had not hesitated to take off her top, leaving her in her modest sports bra, when it got too hot in their private sparring room. The first time that had happened, the boys had simply cheered her on with rather polite catcalls and whistles, teasing the captain when they saw that the love bites didn’t stop at her collar. John had taken all of their remarks in a stride with a proud look on his face, eyes grazing her skin all over as she laughed at the others’ comments. She had done the same when the teasing comments were aimed at her instead, that time when she had left her own marks on John and he, too, had discarded his shirt.

“You wish you had hickeys on you too,” she had retaliated, “imagine being lonely, couldn’t be me.”

The boys had not held back in sparring against her that day. Though, really, they had never limited themselves, so perhaps it was more of them going extra harsh on her. She could still feel the phantom pain of the bruise she had gotten when Gaz had flipped her over his shoulder. Ow.

Then, there was her and John. Grace, how she loved her man. They had spent more nights together following their first, mostly when the day had been particularly harsh on either one of them and they had sought the other’s comfort. Every day only pulled Levina and John deeper into their love for each other but they were still careful not to let it cloud their mind when responsibilities were heavy on their shoulders. They could switch to ‘work’ mode when they were in a professional setting, and the threat of death on-field helped prevent their affections from interfering with making rational decisions fit for a sergeant and captain respectively. It was only after their mission that they allowed themselves to express their worries and fears of losing each other as lovers, rather than soldiers.

“I won’t ask you to not make those kinds of decisions again because I know it’s your duty as a captain. So, be careful,” they had their foreheads pressed together as tears glimmered in her eyes upon remembering the close call John had experienced in the field. “Know that I’m with you, always.”

“And neither will I ever order you to stay back where it’s safe for my selfish reasons. You are a capable soldier that I, as your captain, am proud of. Keep me in your heart, always, and stay alert.”

Their unfailing understanding for each other only strengthened their love; they were confident that nothing could break it and – Grace forbids – if something tried, they would defend it to their last breaths.

As with any teams that had at least one member of each opposite sex in it, rumours circulated the compound of a possible couple within TF141. Currently, Gaz and Soap were the top contenders in being Levina’s rumoured partner with Ghost trailing not far behind. John was barely in the ranking, much to their relief, and he was only there because there were gossips of how she had slept her way into the team. Typical sexist behaviour, she had learned to ignore them the first time she had been assigned a team.

Nothing of significance occurred as months passed. They had been assigned a few missions, conquered them without major losses, and took weeks in between deployments to rest and recuperate. It was one of the latter times towards the end of the year when a momentous event rocked Levina’s world.

The team had just gotten back from their few nights long of an assignment, had been debriefed and dismissed, when Laswell called her into her office. Nervous anticipation coursed through her. The last time they had another one of these meetings, Laswell had told her that the mission to raid Griffon’s manor was to happen sometime this month. Details were understandably kept vague as the task had been assigned under the watch of another military branch more suited to the mission objectives.

Laswell had a sliver of a smile on her lips when Levina walked in. The small spark of hope in her intensified and singed her nerves. Once the salutations were given, Laswell seemed to soften and her the roughness to her voice were notably absent. “Good job on the recent assignment, Sergeant. I expect you know why I’ve called you here?”

Levina gulped, keeping her voice steady as she suggested, “to update regarding my sister’s circumstances, Ma’am.”

Laswell nodded as she rounded her desk to stand in front of Levina unobstructed. “The mission to retrieve Agustine’s victims from Jake Griffon’s manor occurred a few days ago.”

A beat.

“They have succeeded in meeting all the task objectives.”

Levina let out a heavy breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Blood thrummed in her ears and she could feel as if her guts had contracted to make space for her violently-beating heart. She bit her tongue so that her barrage of questions wouldn’t escape and gave Laswell a nod to green-light her readiness to hear more.

“They’ve had all the victims go through a mandatory checkup and Aurora has been reported to be physically well. For the healthy ones, they are now searching for any living relatives to reunite with them and bring them home.” Levina’s eyes went wide and her throat clogged up with unmistaken relief. She willed her tears to stop its production as her heart nearly burst with Laswell’s next words, “I wish you and your family a happy life, Sergeant Riven.”

Levina took a trembling breath in. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

Laswell didn’t admonish the shakiness to her tone and continued with more good news. “They’ve sent a ride to bring you to pick your sister up in their base. They’re waiting in the front gates but do take your time to prepare. I’ve signed off the two months leave that we have agreed on as preparatory measures and I’ll see you after New Year’s, Sergeant. Take care.”

Levina took one shake breath once she had left Laswell’s office.

In… Out…

And then she was rushing off to her barracks to collect her belongings. She had, thankfully, already showered and changed off into a casual training outfit so, with a quick word to her present roommates, she was out of her room in a fly. With no idea where her team were to bid goodbye, she headed straight to John’s office in hopes that he was at least there. His voice echoed through the door upon her knock and she stated her business, her smile clear in her tone. “Sergeant Riven! I have news from the chief, Captain!”

“What news do you have…” John’s words trailed off when Levina sped towards him after closing the door, forgoing any hint of propriety which told him she had come for personal business. “Love?”

She rounded his desk and he stood up to meet her concernedly, catching him in bemused surprise when she reached out to pull his head towards her in a kiss. Always a welcomed action, his hands fell on her hips as he instinctively tilted his head to press forward and she followed suit but pulled back only after a brief moment. Her words were rushed as she told him that her sister was back and that she was here to say her farewells as she’d be leaving right after. A grin had formed on his lips as she shared her elation and he cradled her cheek softly with one hand.

“Let me know once everything has calmed down, yeah? I’ll let the boys know too so don’t worry about that.”

“I will, thank you,” her voice was breathless as she caught her breath after her rushed explanation. “Need to leave now, I’ll see you soon, love.”

He gave her another quick kiss and brushed away her hair from her face. “See you soon, lov’ie. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The ride to the other base took about an hour. Now that the confidentiality of it all had been lifted, she spent the entire ride in a call with her dad. Tears were shed and hearts were filled as she told him everything, from how she had first founded out Aurora’s fate to the reunion happening soon that they thought they could never have in their entire lifetimes. She ended up pulling her dad away from work but he insisted that his boss would understand – and, well, if they didn’t, Levina would have a couple of words to offer to his superior.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Levina followed the driver as he led her to the medical bay in the compound and left her standing in front of a private unit with a knowing sympathetic smile. Her heart was pounding like never before and she lifted a shaking fist up to rap it against the door.

“It’s unlocked!”

Oh, Grace- her voice.

It was different, yet reminiscent of the high-pitched voice she had last heard almost two decades ago. Gone, were the cheeriness and innocence of a child and in place, it was lethargic and dull, haunted by the horrors she had been forced to endure. Her heart broke at the familiar tone that resembled her own back when she had just escaped Agustine, but she was hopeful that her sister could heal – that she would heal.

Twisting the doorknob, she pushed the door open slowly and her eyes immediately fell onto the girl – the woman – sitting up on the bed, hooked onto an IV bag.

“Rory?”

The name came out trembling and airy but the woman had heard Levina, nonetheless. Levina could see the moment recognition washed over the still figure and her name left the woman’s lips in, just as, a vulnerable voice.

“Vina?”

“Oh, Rory.”

Levina barely registered herself closing the door behind her before she was beside the bed in a heartbeat. Aurora had an arm reaching out to her and she didn’t hesitate to lean down and bring her sister into a tight hug, her tears falling unrestrained.

“Vina,” Aurora was also sobbing into her shoulder, body quivering as she croaked out her name in choppy breaths. “You’re here, Oh my Grace- it’s actually you.”

“I’m here, ‘m here. You’re safe with me, it’s alright now- you’re here.”

Disbelief and reassurances were exchanged in endless watery gasps, arms remaining locked around each other for some sort of material to hold onto for support. Levina had adjusted to sit on the bed to bring Aurora closer without having to break her back and it was only when Aurora pulled away slightly did she allow herself to do so too, keeping each other in their arms.

Levina gently caressed Aurora’s cheek, eyes scouring her face to remind herself that Auora’s here, her sister was coming home. A proud smile on her face, albeit with a hint of bitterness for all the time lost, Levina’s voice was soft and loving, “you’ve grown so much, love, y’ve been so strong all this time, yeah? My sweet Aurora…”

The younger shook her head, expression pained as more tears fell. “Had to be- didn’t wanna be but had to, otherwise he’ll- I- it’s-”

Levina shushed her sister lovingly and pulled her head to her chest so that she could hold the latter in a protective hug. “It’s alright, s’alright. A lot has happened but not anymore, yeah? You don’t have to be strong alone anymore- I’m here, dad’s here. We’ll move forward together with mom watching us up above, hm?.”

She felt Aurora nod her head as her arms wrapped themselves tighter around her torso.

The staffs must’ve known of Levina’s arrival because the sisters found themselves alone long enough to calm down the best they could. Levina was now sat beside Aurora so that she could hold her sister to her chest better as she patted her head – much like how their dad had held her when she first came home after her supposed-death. They were mostly silent, save the sniffling and hitched breaths, simply revelling in each other’s missed presence after all those years of separation.

The nurse came in well over an hour later and checked Aurora off for discharge, taking off the IV still hooked onto her and giving a couple of pointers to note of to take care of the bruises littering her body. No major injuries or harm had fallen upon Aurora, physically, and Levina only felt sick when she remembered Agustine’s men’s words on how her sister had been Griffon’s favourite.

They ordered a ride back home, which meant about another hour until they finally reached home. Their dad was in when they entered their flat, having taken time off from work earlier, and they had another round of a tearful reunion in the living room.

Dinner had to be delivered when evening came and they had forgotten about it. Aurora had gone for a shower afterwards and resumed her position in her dad’s arms on the couch while Levina sat beside the pair, bringing her legs up so that she could face them and lean her side against the back of the couch comfortably. They made small talks, updating each other on what they had missed. When Levina told of her current job in the military, Aurora brought up how a soldier from her rescue team had been the first one to tell her that she had a family still.

“Said my sister was the reason why they knew where I – and the others – were in the first place. Owed it all to you, apparently? They were borderline fanboying, I’m pretty sure.”

That had led to a conversation on how Levina had gotten the knowledge of Aurora’s whereabouts in the first place. Aurora was empathetic as she listened and both women shared a mutual understanding of their past horrible circumstances.

Aurora ended up falling asleep in her dad’s embrace and they moved her to Levina’s bed carefully. They shared a brief talk on sleeping arrangements and Levina was happy to take the couch for the meantime – and ever, if she was to stay over during her leaves from the compound – but they’d see what Aurora thought about it too. Levina sent a quick text to her team to ease their worries before she headed off to sleep.

The day had felt unreal – everything had felt unreal ever since she had found out her sister was still alive. Aurora hadn’t talked much about her time in captivity, understandably so, and they would all give her the needed time and space to open up if she ever wanted to. They had set an appointment with the appropriate psychologist to help guide her healing process, however slow it may be. They were a patient bunch, a prominent trait in their lineage, and no one was going to rush Aurora and pester her with unwelcomed pressure. They’d figure things out one by one, baby steps. What mattered most was that Aurora was home and she would heal.

It was a quiet night.

ao3 🌱 topaz 🌱 masterlist

don’t steal my work, claim it as your own, upload it to another site, or use it to train AI

dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive & @saradika-graphics

[ape-apocalypse]

Road To The Kingdom - Firestorm Tie-In Novel

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: Firestorm is a prequel novel written by Greg Keyes for the second movie in the reboot trilogy. It takes place soon after the end of the first film, about a week after the apes escaped into the redwood forest beyond San Francisco and the Simian Flu began to cut through the human race. This novel is a fantastic bridge between Rise and Dawn, giving us more insight into characters we met in the first movie who will feature in the next, as well as fleshing out the fall of society. 

The book does very well juggling between the two massive plots of Caesar's apes avoiding their human hunters and the Simian Flu tearing through the city. Though we don't see Will or any other humans we met in Rise, they give us many new human characters: a reporter trying to make the connection between the escaped apes and the new virus, an emergency room doctor dealing hands on with outbreak casualties, and an ape researcher and a former hunter who have been brought in by Gen-Sys to capture Caesar's group. While I thought I wouldn't care about the humans because the apes are always my favorite characters, all these humans in different locations and with different stories keep the story from dragging; I ended up enjoying the final days of humanity almost as much as Caesar's story. The book also gives us the first introduction to a human character who will become important in Dawn: Dreyfus, the leader of the human colony played by Gary Oldman. Going into the movie, his backstory isn't very clear other than he was in some position of power before the end and he lost his wife and children. But the book goes really deep into his story of a former police chief running for mayor and wanting to protect humans. Rereading the book in 2024, the parallels of the Simian Flu with the Covid outbreak definitely rings true (much like the YouTube shorts).

But no matter how good the human characters are, what I enjoyed most about this book was seeing Caesar and his escaped apes start to adapt to life in the wild. Even while they're being hounded by the humans chasing them, they have to figure out how to care for sick/injured apes and where to get food without humans to feed them. A great moment for Caesar is when he thinks to himself that he never thought beyond escaping from the human city; his realization that there is more to figure out than just dodging humans shows how he goes from accidental ringleader from the sanctuary to the wise authoritative leader of the apes of the next two films.

Though surprisingly, the true star of this book isn't Caesar; it's Koba. We get numerous detailed flashbacks of Koba's life before ending up in the Gen-Sys lab and receiving the brain enhancing drugs. From the death of his mother to being an abused TV star to arriving at the labs as a test ape. In the films, Koba's hatred of humans shines through and is unquestionable; you don't need the backstory to understand why he carries a grudge against all humanity. But reading the details really did break my heart. And getting his backstory revealed as he learns to work with other apes, as he proves his loyalty to Caesar by rescuing injured apes rather than wrecking vengeance on humans, you actually have hope that he could be happy now that he was free with other apes. 

Another great part of the book is getting to see the very beginning of Caesar and Cornelia's courtship. Since one of my disappointments with the films are the forgotten female characters, I was glad to see Cornelia here, challenging Caesar's orders when it came to taking care of injured apes. Though her role is still small, I liked seeing her get a little time to flesh out her character.

Firestorm is officially labeled as a prequel (which is why I have it listed first as I'm trying to go in chronological storyline order), but I actually enjoyed reading it after seeing Dawn. While I think it can still be appreciated in any order, I liked getting to meet Koba in the movie and seeing him as a great complicated villain, before then learning his backstory and growing your sympathy for him, while also thinking about how tragic it is that he couldn't let go of his hate. Whatever order you decide to read them in, Firestorm by Greg Keyes is a wonderful expansion on the movies that I would label as required reading for fans for the expansive and enjoyable story it shares.

Intro / Previous / Next

[mellowwillowy]

𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

Your lover is forced to work far away from you and they are just not having it! They should be breathing the same air as you and not be put far away! Alas, they don't have a choice but to finish this errand quick.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 is not having it. Being away from you for a long time for this silly field trip wannabe? Why must his loyal, mafia ass-shit client get himself into another trouble that requires him to work on-site, away from the house, away from you?

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will actually make a manual on handling every possibility that he could think of happening to you and hand it to his men and the maids working. What to do if Spouse doesn't want to eat? What to do if Spouse is suddenly sick? What to do if Spouse is throwing tantrum-

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 bets that anyone who upset Spouse while he was away will have their fingers removed, the number of fingers removed depends on how fatal their mistake was although he was positive that his and this annoying Mafia Ringleader's men are trained enough to prevent that from happening.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will get you some gifts, lots of gifts. Really, he's a simple man. Oh and if by chance you two manage to have children, they only get 1/10 what he gets for you. Cry about it, brats.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will turn all explosive toward anyone who slows down his work, your average angry demanding boss except that he doesn't explode with illogical bullshits. Might accidentally smack Kaspar (the client) once right in his face out of fuming anger.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 who will be all clingy (rare, very rare) once he gets home because dude. He was away for some time, looking at all these mf faces that were not even you. Give him lots of cuddles, and kisses and just treat him like a puppy for today because he will return to normal again the next day, IT'S YOUR ONLY CHANCE.

"Woah, you get a lot for me, dear. How about I share some with the kids?" (If you have it) "Sure, but I doubt they can use any of it." Yulian replies nonchalantly as he watches you unwrap everything. He is a menace for purposely picking up stuff the kids won't be able to use (haha!).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 gets all grumpy for it! Do they think it's fun having to trick you into allowing him to go on this shitty field trip? Ohhh come on now, you know he works as some sort of programmer or hacker, one that definitely doesn't need him to work ON SITE!!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will have to force both of your friends (and his) to take care of you. As much as you all are close to each other, he is not a fan of letting them watch you in his stead. Sure, this close friend of yours is used to taking care of you, you once lived with him after all.

But the jealousy factor of not being able to manage everything is still there! And his childhood friend, she might have a bad influence on you for the month he is away! Sure, your friend will not allow that but he's just skeptical of everyone! He doesn't trust anyone but him holding the leash to your coll- ekhem, watching you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will get all explosive, irrationally too. Not only toward people who slow his work down but to all his men. Trust me, it was hell for everyone. One wrong word and a punch will meet their face~

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will actually spare some time to get gifts for you and the others, of course, they only get a portion of what he gets for you. Will smile for once after a while at the thought of you unwrapping the presents eagerly and scare his men for a moment (Is boss finally losing it?)

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will try his best to come home unscratched. Work is tough, yes but seeing you chiding him in worry is tougher! The more bruised up he is, the harder it'll be for him to slip out like an eel next time!

"Are you seriously only giving us these after all the troubles we have, taking care of your little friend?!" "God, look at what he got for you, let's swap." "Nuh-uh, get lost, Lemon." Blue cackles at the sight of you beaming from the gifts he hand-picked for you. Ah right, the gifts for the others are picked by his men since he can't be bothered about it.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 is not a shady asshole like 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 so no field trip.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is rather indifferent about this. What can he do about this? Pass it and have people shoot him daggers from every angle for being irrational? Oh lol no, mon chèri. He values his life as much as he values yours.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will station all his men to keep you safe and give everyone notice of 'whoever fucks up will have their head hung'. Effective enough to ensure the maids from doing anything dumb to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is not as wary as Yulian but he is also not a lenient one as well. You get what the others get. Fuck around while he's away and find out what he has in store for you. Definitely not a pleasant one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will surprisingly get something for you though just one. Quality over quantity, he'll quote. He was just too busy and unbothered to get something for you out of no occasion going on. Besides, he could just get you some when he is more relaxed and not so on guard like this. Wouldn't want to get all bruised up or even dead just because he is in a hunt for presents!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is as normal as usual. No explosive behavior, this is his 'daily' work. He's used to being away from you and he is used to being absent from your presence. (Bro literally wait for you to awaken from your coma).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will smile at the sight of you unwrapping the said gift. He is content enough to see you awake and reacting to his gift, either with a scowl or a smile, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you are awake to see what he has bought for you.

"You know, I've always wished you could at least wake up and see the mountain of gifts I had prepared for you. But then I realized, no mountain of surprises would ever wake you up so I dusted it all down as a log of firewood." "You are just making up that story so that I will feel romantic about being given just a TRINKET?" 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 looks away from you comically while you shake him hard. That said, he means every word of it. (Angst baby)

Note: I am rolling, why is everyone here so petty? Yulian to his (if he has) kids, Blue to Lemon and Grape while Eleanor just 👨🏻‍🦯

[envysparkler]

Big Bad

Damian was not lost.  He wasn’t.  If only the streets of this filthy, putrid city did not look identically degenerate—

He wasn’t lost.  Unfortunately, his grapple gun was no longer working—shoddy workmanship, if it fell apart after being used as a makeshift club twice—and on ground level, all of Gotham looked the same.  His pursuers were catching up—Damian was fast, but no matter how fast he was, he was still eleven years old and his legs weren’t long enough to outrun adults.

There was an alley up ahead and Damian took the turn, searching for the fire escape so he could scramble back up to the rooftops and figure out where he was—but the escape was rusted through and hung three levels off the ground, and the alley was a dead end.

Damian strangled the urge to rant about proper fire code and turned to face his opponents.  There were six of them, fanning out to block his escape, and Damian drew the knife concealed in his suit.

“The little boy thinks he can fight,” one of the men sneered, raising his gun.

“I can certainly fight better than you,” Damian sneered, “Not that it’s difficult to be better than a pack of drunk, washed-up lowlifes.”

There was a hiss of fury threading through the pack.  Good.  Anger would make them sloppy.  Damian shifted in preparation, fingers tightening on his knife.

One of the men stepped forward.  The ringleader, presumably, glaring at Damian and the R on his chest.

“Do you know why they call this place Crime Alley, kid?” the lowlife asked, holding his gun like it was a toy and not a weapon.

“Do you?” a harsh, mechanized voice retorted.

Everyone looked up.

Damian took advantage of the confusion and lashed out, snapping one kneecap with a vicious kick, and disfiguring another thug’s face with a slash of his knife.  The crack of gunshots echoed around him, and when Damian turned away from his downed opponent, the alley was full of groaning bodies.

“I did not require your assistance,” Damian snapped, tilting his head back up to stare at Hood.

The older boy gave a half-shrug, still leaning over the edge of the rooftop, “Who said I was assisting?”

Damian glared and stalked out of the alley.

“Take a left, pass three blocks, and take a right,” Hood called out, “You’ll end up back in the East End.”

Damian ignored him, and took a left.  Five minutes later, he was back on more familiar streets, and he gave into the urge to look up.

There was a glint of red on the opposite rooftop and, as he watched, it turned away.

~#~

Steph had maybe possibly not thought this one through.  The warehouse she’d crawled into was empty, all locked up for the night, but she could still hear footsteps echoing around her and her vision was starting to get fuzzy around the corners.

She kept her arm pressed against the slash in her thigh and tried to breathe through the pain.  She’d been in the Bowery when she’d gotten tagged, and tried to lose her pursuers in the streets, unfortunately ending up very far from backup.

Everyone knew Batman didn’t come to Crime Alley.

Steph inhaled slowly and shifted up—Red Robin was coming from the other end of Gotham, at least ten minutes out.  Leslie’s clinic was a full six blocks away.

Footsteps.  Loud and deliberate.  Too heavy to be Tim, too brazen to be Batman.  Steph grabbed her taser and waited.

She registered the red helmet a split second before she pushed down on the button, and Steph exhaled in a rush, slumping back to the ground.

“Couldn’t announce yourself, asshole?”

~#~

“You must be ten kinds of stupid,” someone said as they moved to ring him, “To run straight into our territory.”

Dick kept his good leg straight and tried not to shift, lancing pains shooting up his broken leg.  “But this isn’t your territory,” he smiled, and tilted his head up until he could catch a glimpse of red at the corner of a rooftop, “It’s his.”

The Red Hood straightened from his position.

~#~

Turned out that body armor was not much help against armor-piercing rounds, and that someone in Crime Alley had finally grown a brain.  Jason limped through the alley, keeping to the shadows, one hand pressing against the wall as he struggled to stay upright.  His stomach was a mass of fire that tugged at him with every step, his breaths growing harsher and harsher.

He didn’t need to check the wound to know that he was losing blood alarmingly fast.

He could maybe make it to the clinic.  It was another two blocks over, and the world was growing hazier at a constant rate—he’d probably be able to knock on Leslie’s door before he passed out.

If it weren’t for the voices behind him.  Two, maybe three—or was that just the ringing in his ears?  Either way, the street was blurry enough that Jason didn’t trust his aim, and if they made it into grappling range, he wasn’t sure if he’d win.

But he could make it to the clinic.  Could stick to the shadows, ignore the splatter of blood he was leaving behind as a trail, suppress the shrieking agony and crawl to safety.

On the next step, a piercing sensation tore through his side, and Jason staggered.

Okay.  He couldn’t make it to the clinic.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for kicking my cousin out of our city? Kicking out is a strong term. I didn’t exile her or anything, I just - well, here’s the story from the beginning. My cousin-once-removed G (3263F) and I (2188M) were co-founders and co-rulers of this city. I don’t want to give undue credit to either of us - there were and are many others involved in the founding and governance of the place - but it’s fair to say that we two were the ringleaders. And we made a good team! We’re both very opinionated people, so of course there was sometimes tension, but overall I think our disagreements only made our decision-making stronger. That was until A (ageless, M) showed up. A is one of the lesser primordial beings who helped create the world. Necessary context: not long ago there was a catastrophic war between the most powerful of these beings, who was monstrously evil, and his more benevolent brethren. This war was absolutely necessary, but it did wreak havoc on the natural world. Myself and my cousin G and many others had to flee as refugees. When we founded our city, we wanted it to be a place of recovery from all that loss, somewhere that everyone could come together and flourish. The rulers of A’s people sent him to aid us in that. And his help has been invaluable! He’s shared knowledge that has already bettered our city and its people, and now we’re working on a project together that will let us heal so many of the world’s ancient hurts… but I digress. When A showed up, G took an immediate dislike to him. She has some history with the rulers of his folk, and I suppose that colored her opinion of him, but I’ve never seen that level of hostility from her before. She picked at everything he said, implied that he wasn’t trustworthy, even tried to tell me that we should send him away! She argued that since our people’s king had declined A’s help, we should too - which was ridiculous, our city has always made its own decisions, and anyhow our king hadn’t commanded us to do any such thing! Ordinarily G is very clear-headed and has excellent judgment, but in this case I just couldn’t get across to her that she was being unfair. When I was firm in my support of A, G started trying to drum up public animosity against him. Of course I opposed her, and as A had already made many friends in the city and is an excellent rhetorician to boot, G only succeeded in turning public opinion against herself. At city council meetings she continued to oppose A and his projects, but I stood with A, and the majority of the council followed my lead. G was essentially frozen out of the city’s governance - and I do regret that, truly, but she put herself in that position by refusing to work with me and A! Eventually G took the small faction that agreed with her and left the city. She told me my “doom was on my own head,” which was needlessly hostile, I think. And look, I fully believe that she believes she’s in the right. She’s a very principled person; she wouldn’t do all this for petty reasons. She’s just so wrong about A! I truly can’t think of anything else I could have done, but G’s been a blessing to this city and I’m really unhappy to have been part of the reason it lost her. Was there another way I should have handled this conflict? AITA?

[gayleviticus]

there's a bit of discourse online around richard hays, a famous conservative bible scholar who wrote a famous book about new testament ethics where he came down against homosexuality, having now changed his mind and coming out with a lgbtq-affirming book later this year

and some people are a bit frustrated at how much harm he's caused and that he can just change his mind and be forgiven etc. i get it, especially for people who are no longer christian and not invested in affirming Christianity being a good thing.

but i also feel like. there's such a culture online for calling for 'accountability' and not letting people get off scot-free, which is valid, especially in a society where people often get to be shitty w impunity (e.g. trump, musk). but also like... is not writing a big book directly rebutting his previous position a form of accountability? some famous evangelicals have changed their position at their end of their lives verbally but too late to make any change to their legacy; i think actively working to rebutt your past self is a big deal.

and secondly. i think what's important here is a significant, well-respected conservative christian scholarly voice defecting to defend the affirming position. that's a big deal. there are people w similar trajectories like james brownson, but he's pretty much entirely famous now for being affirming. Hays seems like more of a game-changer.

and so i feel like - while i respect people's right to be annoyed and frustrated with the damage he has done - it feels almost... self-centred to be focusing on the man himself? like bruh i dont care about his personal sins or righteousness, that's God's problem; I would much rather be rejoicing in another crack appearing in the armour of non-affirming Christianity. i would rather rejoice in the resurrection than waste time geting mad bc there never should have been a cross in the first place. there is more rejoicing over one sinner who repents than 99 righteous etc.

plus, Hays is hardly the ringleader of christian homophobia. he contributed a brick in the edifice, sure, but idk. i think getting too mad at the man himself is to exonerate an entire system built on homophobia, and to prioritise twitter grievance games over the actual tangible effect of his change of heart

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

Chapter of the White Lilies: Winter's Young Tiger

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. This is a short story originally written for a japanese magazine and later compiled in one of the Ravens' Hundred Flowers books.

Blog version

For other translations, you can find them HERE

Timeline: At the start of The Raven Doesn't Choose its Master

Characters (in order of relevance): Ichiryuu, Yukiya, Yukima

Synopsis: Ichiryuu, the third son of the Shimaki Township Lord, wastes his days away picking fights and fooling around, unable to decide on the future, until a certain fateful encounter...

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

War cries resounded under the clear winter sky.

The air was so cold his breath came out in white puffs, yet his entire body was boiling. Boys under 15 stood on two opposite sides, facing each other in an abandoned field close to the town plaza. It was four against ten. The enemy side had the advantage.

——Fine with him.

The weak were prone to gather together anyway. There was no way he was going to lose.

A boy came straight for him, his voice raised in a cry—the other side’s ringleader, who had picked a fight with him the other day.

“Ichiryuu! I’ve had enough of your bossy ass, today is the day I’m taking you down a notch!”

Despite their similar ages, the boy was noticeably bigger and thicker than him. For Ichiryuu, however, who trained against adults all the time, that wasn’t much of a problem. He gracefully dodged the club aimed at him and snorted as he screamed back.

“And you got some real cheek there! Go home and look at yourself in the mirror, you ugly ass!”

“Huuuh!? Look who's talking, have you looked at yourself?”

“Wanna fight, you piece of shit!?”

Ichiryuu sneered at his opponent. The boy screamed as he raised his weapon once more, but Ichiryuu closed the gap between them in a flash. The other boy’s eyes opened wide in astonishment—he couldn’t react at all.

“Idiot,” Ichiryuu muttered.

He raised his fist keenly, hitting the boy right on his saggy chin.

“Yocchan!” a boy on the other side shouted.

His opponent, who had been bragging until just a moment ago, swayed for a bit as his eyes went white. He fell to the ground, knocked out.

“Yocchan! Pull yourself together, Yocchan!”

“Dammit, we won’t forget this!”

Ichiryuu watched as they picked their leader up from the ground and ran away, tails between their legs. He gave an exasperated sigh as they left.

“Truly, what a bunch of idiots...” he said just as his own underlings surrounded him in between shouts of joy.

“Classic Ichiryuu!”

“And you did it in one hit! Again!”

“And with those numbers! I was scared for a second there, and still!”

“Wait,” Ichiryuu frowned, “you were scared of those small fries? Are you for real?”

“I mean, there were twice as many of them!”

“That’s not a situation you can normally win!”

“Well, Ichiryuu is just that strong!”

“He may well be, like, the strongest in the North?”

“Cut it out. It just means they were that weak…” Ichiryuu laughed, basking in the pure admiration in their eyes. “Although, well, yeah, the title of the Strongest in the North may actually be on point!”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

“Ain’tcha getting a bit carried away, huh, Ichiryuu!?” a man said, slapping him with such force that Ichiryuu was sent flying. His body pierced the nearby shoji screen, pulling out even the frame, before finally landing on the floor.

“That hurts! What the hell, bro!?”

A teary-eyed Ichiryuu lay on the floor, his hand covering his bruised cheek. In front of him, stood three very angry men.

“Isn’t it about damn time you stop wasting your life away, huh!?”

“What were you even thinking!? Picking fights with kids from other territories!”

“Do you even realize who you are!? The son of the Township Lord!”

In order, the men yelling at him were none other than his father, the family’s eldest brother, and the middle brother. His father held the position of the Lord in Shimaki Township of the North. His rank was high enough to face high-ranking nobles from the Center, yet the man stood out mostly because of his big, strong physique. He was built like a boulder and kids cried when they saw him smile.

The Northern Region was the land of sake brewers and warriors. Farmlands were scarce. Its sake business, however, used the local water, which was remarkably pristine, and thrived beyond belief.

On top of that, every village, no matter how small, had at least one dojo. Even its farmers, who usually focused on tilling the land, could just as easily become soldiers in times of need. The majority of the population were part-time soldiers, such was the nature of the land. This was why a man like his father, who looked more like an actual walking rock than a member of the nobility and terrified others no matter how friendly he tried to look, was actually highly welcome as a leader. 

Ichiryuu’s brothers greatly resembled their father and had the people’s wholehearted trust as well. In fact, the eldest was already hard at work as the Township’s future Lord and the middle brother was a graduate from the Unbending Reed Monastery and a high-ranking military officer. He was part of the personal guard for the Imperial Family in the Center.

For the North, raising the talents within the territory was of the utmost priority. As long as you had the gift for it, the door was open for anyone to become a warrior instead of a soldier. And, for the most talented even among such warriors, the Unbending Reed Monastery was the place to go.

In comparison to his accomplished brothers, Ichiryuu was just a problem child. He was the youngest, whose fate was still undetermined, and he spent his days fooling around in a gang with the other local kids his age.

“You’re getting close to your coming of age and having to think about your future. How about you take your own life seriously for a change?” his father admonished him with a grumble.

Offended by that, Ichiryuu pouted. “Leave me alone! I’m actually giving it a lot of thought, you know.”

There were two main possibilities for someone like Ichiryuu: to become a Township officer and help out his father and eldest brother, or to become a high-ranking military officer like his middle brother. And yet, he couldn't make himself choose. While he had absolutely no intention of working a desk job, he felt absolutely no joy either at the idea of following his brother's steps and going to the Monastery.

“You arrogant little shit, how dare you to speak like that in front of your father! If you have plans, go ahead and say so. We're waiting, and you better not try your luck with any excuses,” the middle brother threatened him.

He was the one who had sent him flying a moment ago.

Said middle brother had just come home for a visit after quite the lengthy absence. Which was good and all, but the news of Ichiryuu's pointless squabbling seemed to have only made him immediately see red.

The mere idea of following the same path as him, the most boorish of the three brothers, vexed Ichiryuu very much. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn’t help but wish his brother would realize his behavior was the actual reason for Ichiryuu's indecisiveness for the future.

“Erhm, I’m not becoming a Township officer, for starters.”

“Yeah, I could guess that much. You don't have the brains required,” his eldest brother earnestly agreed with him. It pissed Ichiryuu off, but, as he couldn't come up with a good counter-argument, he chose to let it be.

“Then what do you plan to do? Go to the Monastery like I did?” The middle brother glared at him.

Ichiryuu shook his head once more. “No. It's not like I’m obligated to go to the Monastery just because I have the skill for it, right?”

“Then what are you planning to do?”

“Well, become a wandering bodyguard, perhaps?”

That way he could still protect his homeland, turn into a guardian of sorts. Ah yes, Ichiryuu, the Guardian Deity of Shimaki. It had a good ring to it. He had said it without thinking, in the heat of the moment, but it truly was an inspired idea.

“You…”

“You're truly an awe-inspiring idiot…….”

His brothers gave him looks of pity, and Ichiryuu frowned. What was their problem?

“You may not know it, but I'm actually quite feared out there. They even call me the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’!”

“What? That’s fucking lame!”

“Now, let me warn you. You'll deeply, deeply regret what you said right now in ten years. I'm willing to bet on it. It's a guarantee,” his eldest brother said with conviction.

However, his father, who was now standing at the back, seemed to be impressed unlike his brothers. “Oh, now that explains everything! That's why your haori had this thing on the back!”

Ichiryuu had no idea when he had gotten his hands on it, but it turned out his father was holding Ichiryuu’s long haori—the same one he had dropped off in a hurry the moment he arrived home—and was giving it a good, hard look. Its black fabric was decorated with golden embroidery. It depicted an imposing leaping tiger and a swaying willow tree.

The middle brother backed away at first, letting out a scandalized gasp, before ever so slowly coming closer to examine it. “Where did you even get this foul, gaudy thing……?”

“He sewed it himself, apparently. He even bought the fabric and thread with his allowance. Isn't he good?” his father explained.

The color in both brothers’ faces faded.

“Are you serious? I didn't know that.”

“Why even go that far! Are you a tailor now?”

“Shut up! Why is that a problem? I just didn't want to bother anyone with it.” Ichiryuu stood up and forcefully took the haori from his father's hands.

At that moment, another voice interrupted the scene.

“Shutting up? Who!?” It was the angriest, loudest yell of the day so far. “I could hear you all from the front of the house. How about you shut those dirty traps of yours right now, you bunch of idiots!?”

The three brothers balked in horror upon seeing the tiny figure running towards them.

“Mum!” Ichiryuu screamed.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s ‘mother’ to you.”

From the looks of it, she had come all the way from the kitchen. Immediately after her arrival, she proceeded to hit Ichiryuu on the side of the head with a rice paddle. “I truly cannot believe you! Why are you so damn hopeless? How about learning a thing or two from the Taruhi kids, huh!?”

Something in Ichiryuu, who was busy rubbing his head in pain, snapped when he heard her yell.

Taruhi Township were their neighbors and, by some chance, its Lord also had three sons. To make matters worse, the eldest and the middle brother were born barely a year apart, which meant they were both around Ichiryuu's age. Given their similar ages and circumstances, the three of them were constantly compared to each other.

“Now that I can't ignore! ‘Kids’, what's up with that plural? I'll take Yukima, fine, but I'm so much better than Yukiya.”

Yukima was the future Lord in Taruhi and one of those brilliant people who had it all: he was intelligent, good looking, and had a frankly pleasing personality. On top of that, he had been getting fairly decent results at the Northern Region’s tournaments, held twice a year. Ichiryuu wasn’t going to deny that Yukima had promise.

Yukiya, his slightly younger brother, on the other hand... 

He was the complete opposite of Yukima: dumb as a rock, not what you would call good looking, and a complete coward. In other words, a walking failure. At tournament matches, he would start sobbing the very instant it started and then immediately throw the bamboo sword away. Battling him was considered a completely free win among the Northern kids. 

Meanwhile, Ichiryuu wasn't the best when it came to studying, that much he was willing to admit, but his looks were most certainly not bad at all and he was courageous. On top of that, he had full confidence that his skills in arms were the best regardless of status.

Being considered inferior to Yukiya of all people was something he couldn't stand.

“He even caused trouble just the other day, didn't he? No matter how you put it, we aren't even in the same category.”

It happened during the New Year’s Greetings at the Northern Lord's Main Residence. According to the rumors, he fought with some guy and lost in quite the dramatic way, much to the Northern Lord's exasperation.

“Well, you may say that, but Taruhi's middle son was chosen to serve at the Court right after that,” his eldest brother said.

Ichiryuu let out a half-maddened scream. “Huh, why!? What's up with that? Court Service of all things?”

“I’ve heard that, from this spring onwards, he'll be working as one of His Highness Wakamiya's attendants.”

“His Highness Wakamiya's attendant…” Ichiryuu repeated, dumbfounded.

Wakamiya. The Crown Prince, in other words. The man that would one day rule all of Yamauchi. He had been studying abroad in the ‘Outside’, but he had returned a short while ago. The Rite of Ascension, the event to select his legal wife out of the Four Houses, was also supposed to start soon.

If he became the attendant of such a noble personage, Yukiya's future was all but secured. For Ichiryuu, who had until then been fully convinced Yukiya would spend his entire life shamelessly leeching off Taruhi, the news came out of nowhere.

“Whatever the excuses, he's doing just fine. Compared to that, you…” His mother clicked her tongue.

“Wait!” Ichiryuu screamed. “It makes no sense! Why Yukiya? And all of a sudden!”

“Probably because, despite appearances, he's actually giving his situation proper thought,” the middle brother added with a laugh.

“Impossible!” Ichiryuu yelled again. “Don't go assuming stupid things like that. As if he could give anything ‘proper thought’! I'm stronger and, most likely, also way smarter.”

“The biggest question here is where exactly you get that self-confidence from. It's admirable, somehow,” interjected his very exasperated middle brother.

The eldest, meanwhile, gave him a forced smile. “Taruhi's middle son has a different mother. He probably got a recommendation because of something related to that.”

This was the first time he had heard of that. Ichiryuu's eyes widened. “Really?”

“I don't know the finer details, but it was a whole deal. She's dead, but from what I’ve heard his mother’s status was much higher than the current legal wife’s.”

“In short, that's all it took to decide his future.”

——Yukiya, someone so clearly inferior to him, getting such a nice deal? Just like that? Only because of his blood?

“That's unfair!” Ichiryuu winced.

“Ryuu.” His father, who had been silent until then, called out to him with a gentle look on his face. “Before talking about others, you should first give some thought to what being a Township Lord's son truly entails. How can you even consider going to the Court when you don’t know how to behave as an aristocrat?”

“Since when are we ‘aristocracy’? Dad, do you know what our people call the Lord's Residence?”

Inspired by the castle’s atmosphere up in the mountains, they had given it the affectionate name of the ‘Bandits’ Den’. His father's rough, stone-like face blushed as he heard that, and he turned to his wife.

“Oh, my dear……. Shinobu, it must be because you're such a beauty, there’s no doubt about it! You must look like a princess kidnapped by bandits to them.”

“Oh, dear. Don't say things like that in front of the kids.”

“It's just the truth, my dear.”

Faced by their blushing, bashful parents, the brothers immediately felt a chill. ‘There they are, at it again.’ ‘I can't stand this.’ ‘What are they doing at their age?’ The brothers’ thoughts stood united, yet their father couldn't care less: their only option was to wait until their parents were done flirting.

Shinobu, their mother, wasn't a noblewoman by birth. On the contrary, she was a female warrior who won her position as the Lord's legal wife by sheer power. She trounced every single rival at a martial arts tournament. Even now, years later, it only took her one hand to manhandle her huge sons, and she prided herself as the strongest in the Shimaki Lord’s Residence.

Their mother was tiny, had a mean look in her eyes, and an utterly foul mouth on top of that. In other words, even from the perspective of a very loving relative, her appearance was at most utterly average and, rather than a princess, she had the aura of a legitimate bandit. Yet, for some reason, she was the most beautiful princess in the entire world in their father's eyes.

After quite some time spent flirting, their father finally noticed his sons’ looks. He coughed as if to get their attention.

“Anyway! You told us you wanted to become a wandering bodyguard, didn't you? If you're serious about that, I’m not against it. I'll give you my full support, even. However.” His father looked like the very picture of authority, the polar opposite of how he had acted just a moment ago with his mother. “Right now, I can tell you aren’t actually serious about it. If you keep saying whatever first comes to mind, I'll use all my power to beat that hesitation out of you.”

Ichiryuu had no way to fool his way out. His father meant every word.

“If you are going to go to the Monastery, it's about time to start preparations in earnest; you better give it some hard, proper thought. Are we good?” his father emphasized.

At his side stood his mother, who glared at him with her arms crossed, with his brothers, who were looking at him menacingly, in the other. Ichiryuu sat square on the cold dirt floor, clearly unhappy with the entire situation.

Finally, he answered with the only option he had been given.

“Yes.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

In the North, a huge martial arts tournament took place twice every year at the biggest temple. It was a prelude of sorts to the Good Crops and Rice Harvest Festivals(1), and skilled underage boys from all corners of the region gathered there to participate. Its purpose was to choose who would take part in the dedicatory match as an offering on the day of the festival itself.

For any commoner boy who had his sights set on the Monastery, it was the perfect chance to prove himself in front of people influential enough to give them a recommendation. In fact, there were also Monastery instructors in attendance every year. And, for the boys born in the North’s many warrior families, it was the best chance to show off the hardwon results of their training.

The sky was clear, with no clouds in sight, and the curtains hanging from the temple’s eaves flapped magnificently in the wind. It was the very last day of winter, at least according to the calendar, and yet the day was just as cold as usual. White puffs came out from people's mouths and a good warmup was a hard requisite to even hope to move properly.

Ichiryuu was very much used to fighting outside in the cold, however, so this was just more of the same to him. Just like that, he took yet another impressive and graceful victory in front of the shivering spectators.

“White, one point!”

As the crowd cheered, Ichiryuu turned towards them, lifting his bamboo sword up high. He had just won his third round, and his opponent had been none other than Yukima of Taruhi, the same boy Ichiryuu's family was so intent on wanting him to be like.

“You're just as strong as always, Ichiryuu.” A cheerful Yukima was the one to approach him first, once they were done with the customary bows.

His cheeks were flushed and his hair was messy, but he sported an easy-going expression that spoke of the quality of his upbringing. This, combined with his good looks, meant that a group of fawning girls had gathered close by. Ichiryuu couldn't be happier to have taken that victory against him in front of them.

“Well, of course. I'm the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’, after all.”

“Ah, I really don't hate that side of you,” he laughed, “but don’t expect me to follow you on that.”

Unsure about what Yukima meant, Ichiryuu was about to ask him. However, Yukima waved his hand in farewell before he got the chance. “My brother's match is next so I have to go. See you later!”

Even his back as he ran away was graceful.

“How can he look so cool even though he lost.”

“That's a future Township Lord for you……” 

He hadn’t realized it until now, but his friends were already standing behind him. Two of them had joined the tournament as well, but they had lost almost immediately so they had decided to stay around to cheer Ichiryuu on instead. His parents and eldest brother were expected to be in attendance by the Northern Lord's seat, which meant that his friends were the only ones with Ichiryuu on the field.

“I won, though,” he spouted, his tone flatter than he himself expected.

“But, of course! You were the coolest, Ichiryuu!”

“There's no need to sulk!”

“I'm not sulking.”

Yet all that euphoria from before had vanished entirely. Ichiryuu silently followed his friends, who were still frantically trying to comfort him, as they walked in the same direction as Yukima. They arrived at a venue in the corner of the precincts, delimited by a white square and completely surrounded by people. They had arrived just in time. That guy was just exchanging bows with his opponent. 

The guy’s face was the very picture of insecurity. He was none other than Yukiya, the failure of a second son of Taruhi. His hair was fluffy and unruly, and he had a red headband on his head. He was small and poorly built for his age and, unlike Yukima, his features could hardly be defined as attractive.

“You can do it, Yukiya!” A small child raised his voice from the side of the venue. Taruhi's third son, most likely. Beside him stood Ichiryuu’s last opponent, Yukima, who could only watch over his brother with worry painted all over his face. 

“Start!” the judge yelled.

Yukiya’s opponent, who was wearing a white headband, raised his voice the moment the match started, going for an attack. Yukiya visibly trembled at the sight, the tip of his sword unreliably shaking up and down.

Ah, truly a lost cause.

In the time it took Ichiryuu to think that, Yukiya’s opponent closed the distance between the two of them and, of all things to do, Yukiya chose to close his eyes. And just as Ichiryuu had expected, the match was over in barely an instant.

“...... To think a guy like that is going to be His Highness Wakamiya's attendant. The world may as well be ending.”

Pointless as it all was in the end, Ichiryuu's irritation only grew as he watched Yukiya’s brothers comfort him. Mere thoughtless whining out of jealousy, and yet his friends immediately took the bait. It wasn't exactly subtle.

“I know! You would do so much better than him, Ichiryuu.”

“His older brother could manage just fine, yes, but that guy? He's probably going to embarrass us all here in the North.”

“Exactly!” Ichiryuu wholeheartedly agreed.

Ever since they had arrived, Yukiya's future attendant work at the Center had turned out to be a popular conversation topic. From what he had learned from the many rumors circulating, there was another different nobleman who was originally supposed to do it. However, he mistook Yukiya for a commoner and fought with him. In the end, he actually hurt Yukiya. Giving up the honor to his victim had been his punishment. 

Of course, to hurt someone just because he's a commoner was in no way acceptable behavior. Ichiryuu genuinely thought the punishment was necessary and fitting. That said, he could see how someone could mistake Yukiya for someone of lower birth, and he couldn't stand knowing that, ultimately, Yukiya's entire future was decided only on the grounds of his superior lineage. It made him sick.

“But what if he started that fight knowing what would happen? The cunning of it!”

“No way, don't say scary things like that!”

“I mean, using his brains instead of his non-existent strength. It sounds like something a noble would do, don’t you think?”

Ichiryuu snorted at his friend's words. “As if Yukiya is smart enough to do that. He probably just got lucky.”

It seemed his friends had quite unrealistic expectations about rural nobility. His argument didn't seem to convince them, however, as they just muttered on.

“Maybe you're right, yes.”

“But there's still a chance he did it knowingly, ain't there?”

Ichiryuu followed Yukiya with his eyes as he left the venue, drinking some water from a bamboo bottle. “I’ve heard his mother is from a good family. Don’t you think that, if he truly were the kind to pull off something like that, he could just depose Yukima and take over as the next Township Lord instead? Not like he can actually do that, mind you,” Ichiryuu spitefully spat out. “If lineage were truly all you needed to triumph, there wouldn't be any point to working as hard as we do.”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

In the end, Ichiryuu took third place at the tournament. There were Monastery trainees-to-be taking part in the tournament this particular year, so it was safe to say those were some excellent results. As much as it was a shame he couldn't get first place, at least it meant he didn't need to take part in the dedicatory match the next day. In that particular sense, one could even say that third was the ideal placement.

Now that his matches were over, the only thing left to do was to enjoy himself at the festival, taking place at the North's biggest city, before coming back home. The Good Crops Festival was also the first chance to drink the sake that had matured during wintertime. That was the following day, however. That night, last fall's sake was everywhere instead, and the path to the temple was filled with plenty of food stalls as well.

Ichiryuu had barely gotten the chance to take a peek or two in-between matches, but he still got to enjoy the strong aroma of grilling soy drifting from the massive pots, filled with boiling salty-sweet konjak balls, and to see some skewers of miso-marinated chicken dripping with golden oil.

Ichiryuu, happy thinking about everything he was going to eat, was about to take off his training uniform when a voice interrupted him. “Excuse me… Ichiryuu?”

He turned around and his expression hardened. Brown, unruly hair stood right under his line of sight: a short boy was looking up at him. Yukiya of Taruhi, of all people.

Their relationship went as far as playing together from time to time when they were kids, whenever there was a reunion at the Northern Lord's Main Residence. He wasn't someone he wanted to be close to now that they were older, however. He had no idea of what Yukiya could want from him, but he fully intended to appease him just enough to get him out of the way and go play as soon as possible.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Yukiya’s request was about.

“Teach you some basics? Me?”

“Yes. I've, well, lost all my matches today too…” Yukiya said, shriveled up like a leaf in autumn. “It'll be really bad if I keep going like this, so I wanted to get some advice from you, Ichiryuu.”

“Now, my question is, why does it have to be me? You’re going to the Center very soon too, right? There’ll surely be some busybodies in Taruhi willing to teach you.” His answer turned out way more sarcastic than he had originally intended, but Yukiya didn't seem to notice it.

“Still!” He answered energetically, “I really want you, Ichiryuu, to teach me. Every mentor in Taruhi is already getting up in years……. So, I thought that surely I could learn something useful if I train with someone strong and closer to my age. And you were so, so cool today, Ichiryuu.”

“R-Really?”

Ah, it truly wasn't such a bad feeling. To be looked up to with wholehearted admiration like that.

“Please! Even if it's just for a moment, I really don't mind!”

Well, to be completely fair, it wasn't like Yukiya himself had done anything wrong. He may have been a bit too harsh with all the jealous talk. Besides, there was something cute about how he had come all the way to ask him for help like that. Commendable, even.

Ichiryuu glanced at the window. He could see the red sky through the lattice, and his friends had told him they would go ahead to watch the kagura(2) songs and dances. There was still some time before the meetup.

“Well, if you insist that much… I'll give you a lesson or two.”

“Really? Actually, I already got a dojo for it,” Yukiya said innocently.

He brought Ichiryuu to a small building. It had been used as a waiting room for the tournaments’ participants during the day, but everyone seemed to have left a long while ago. It had been so lively just a few hours ago, and yet now you couldn't see a soul around. 

“They told me they don't use it for big matches like the ones today, but it's actually a training dojo. When I explained to them that I wanted to practice on my own, they said I could use it as much as I wanted.”

Yukiya explained as he went and lit up candles in the corners. Then, once that was done, he returned to the entrance and used both hands to carefully close the door. It was well-waxed and moved with ease, sliding into position with a soft tap.

“Now……” Yukiya turned back to him, his face illuminated from the side by soft candle light. There was a carefree, toothy smile on his lips. “Thank you for your guidance.”

“No worries,” Ichiryuu said cheerfully.

He went to the side of the dojo, where they kept the bamboo swords, and picked up one in as good a state as possible. They had no one to act as the judge, but it should be just fine. He could just point out anything he noticed as they trained, much like his own instructor did with him. Ichiryuu stood at the starting line and bowed.

“Thank you for having me,” they said to each other and Ichiryuu readied his position, bamboo sword in hand.

——It didn’t take him too long to realize something was wrong.

For the first few matches, everything was fine. Ichiryuu would just correct Yukiya: ‘Your pose is off.’ ‘Work on that leg coordination.’ It was only later that he started to notice the wrongness of it all.

Yukiya held his sword as he pitifully shrunk into a ball, making his body as small as possible. His grip didn’t seem strong at all to him. He looked outright defenseless, to put it plainly, yet Ichiryuu’s blows didn't land as they should. Every time he tried to attack, Yukiya would let out some kind of pathetic scream and then, somehow, flawlessly stop or deflect the hit.

Disconcerted, Ichiryuu backed down for a second. He studied Yukiya for a while, but the boy simply looked back at him with dread.

“...... What's up? Aren't you going to attack?” Ichiryuu challenged him.

With anxiety all over his face, Yukiya finally went on the offensive. It was a weak attempt. Ichiryuu had no problems whatsoever countering it, and immediately closed in for a blow of his own. Yet, somehow, Yukiya warded him off. His sword slashed the air.

For a moment, Ichiryuu simply couldn't believe it. He had put some actual effort into that one.

Meanwhile, Yukiya was still giving him the same old pitiful look. He even went and tilted his head, as if wondering what was wrong. And yet, Ichiryuu couldn't help but feel something off lurking in his eyes.

Indignant, Ichiryuu sighed and finally gave a loud shout as he went on the offensive again. This time around, he wasn’t going to underestimate his opponent, not one bit. Whether it was because he had noticed Ichiryuu's change in attitude or not, Yukiya's stance quickly shifted as well. His entire body relaxed and he fixed his center of gravity. Just like that, his previously deplorable footwork became buttery smooth.

Most importantly, however, were his eyes: there was no fear whatsoever in them anymore.

Seeing red, Ichiryuu cursed to himself. He put his everything into his next attacks. He tried to strike, to stab, time and time again, and yet it was to no avail. Every hit found itself rebuffed, deflected, or otherwise warded off. Despite actually trying his hardest to get a point, nothing would work on Yukiya. Most infuriatingly, the boy didn't try to counterattack even once, no matter how many openings there were.

Gradually, Ichiryuu's breath picked up. His arms felt heavier by the moment and he could taste blood in his mouth. His sight blurred, and he realized his own dripping sweat was the cause.

He slashed down with all his strength, and Yukiya finally managed to completely block him. For a moment, neither side moved.

“Is that all?” Despite the clashing swords, Yukiya’s voice and expression didn’t betray a sign of actual effort. “You're supposed to teach me the basics, right? So what's next? Please, teach me more.”

Ichiryuu's arms trembled: he was being pushed back. He couldn't tell when, but Yukiya’s gaze had, at some point, turned into that of an entirely different person. It was cold, terrifyingly so.

“Come on…… I’m telling you. Do it. Now!”

That instant, Yukiya vanished from his sight.

Before Ichiryuu even got a chance to tell what was happening, he felt something hit his legs. With a tumble, he plunged to the ground. He somehow managed to break off the fall safely, but it was already too late. He looked up. There was Yukiya, sporting a vicious smile from ear to ear and raising his sword as high as he could.

Ichiryuu didn't even have time to cover his face with his arms. Before he knew it, he was being assaulted by the sharp agonizing pain of a neverending flurry of blows. It felt like hail crashing all over his body.

“Huh? What's wrong, Ichiryuu? Is this truly all you can do?”

Ichiryuu let out a pained shriek and made an attempt to escape. It was pointless. The moment he tried to move away, Yukiya kicked him with all his strength.

“You sure are all bark and no bite, huh?” Yukiya laughed as he kept ruthlessly hitting the fallen Ichiryuu over and over again.

Bang. Bang. Bangbang.

The blows were so fast, he could swear the sounds they made were overlapping into one single cacophony. Ichiryuu pleaded, ‘stop, please, I'm begging you’, countless times. Finally, Yukiya's arm stopped.

“I-I'm sorry I made fun of you. That's why you're so angry, right? I'll apologize!” Ichiryuu said in between barely suppressed sobs.

“Oh,” Yukiya’s eyes opened wide, “so you were making fun of me. Didn’t know.”

And, just like that, he had made his situation exponentially worse.

Ichiryuu could feel his consciousness threatening to leave him as a sneering Yukiya picked him up by the collar. “Well, I can more or less make an educated guess. Not like I actually give a shit about how you feel about me, mind you—but that said, you really, really should think long and hard about your own position before opening that big trap of yours again.”

“My position…?”

“Today, at the tournament venue, you said that I could probably take over the position of Taruhi's Township Lord in the future, didn't you? Because I come from a better family than my brother. And you better not tell me you've forgotten,” Yukiya threatened him.

Ichiryuu audibly gulped. “Nonono! Wait! I did say it, yes, but it was under the assumption that you couldn't actually do it, you know!”

“Shut up! And listen for once in your life!” Yukiya shouted as he punched him in the face. “It doesn't matter what you were thinking. Right now, rumors about it are all over the damn place. Those two lackeys of yours sure like gossiping, huh!?”

“No! Did those two also go through this?” Ichiryuu said, startled.

“Don't look down on me,” Yukiya spat out, “those two actually understood things once I explained it to them all nicely. I'm not angry with them, I'm angry with you.”

“Then, why?”

“So you truly don't realize who you are. Incredible,” Yukiya sighed with heartfelt exasperation as he threw Ichiryuu back onto the floor. “The third son of the Shimaki Township’s Lord, Ichiryuu—an aristocrat. Low or not, it doesn’t matter.”

Yukiya picked his bamboo sword back up. He had thrown it away when he first caught Ichiryuu by the neck. “You may have meant it as some simple jealous banter, but those are still the words of a Lord's son. People will take them at face value. If someone from the Township is saying it, it must be true after all! Stupid as it may be, it gives rumors some credibility. Before you even know it, they spread like wildfire.”

——Before talking about others, you should first give some thought to what being a Township Lord's son truly entails. His father's kind words came back to Ichiryuu in a flash.

“I’m the first one to agree it's stupid for everything to be determined by one's birth, but the fact remains that we benefit from it. And at least I can say with full confidence that I have some idea of what nobility is all about.”

Yukiya slammed the sword against the palm of his own hand. He was looking down on Ichiryuu as if he were the scum of the earth. “You see, the benefits and responsibilities of a noble are equal. The only reason you haven’t had to work until now and got enough training to become third best in the North is because you’re a rural noble. How daring of you, to ignore that and go around acting all jealous of my bloodline. Imagine the disgust that those who heard you spout that crap must have felt.”

Ichiryuu found himself with no way to argue back.

“Now, listen well, Ichiryuu. I have no intention whatsoever of taking my brother's position. I don't have plans to go to the Monastery or the Center, either. I plan to spend my entire life working for my brother's sake under his command. Do you even have the slightest idea of what I've had to go through because of inconsiderate, groundless suspicions such as yours?” As he spoke, Yukiya's face twisted as if in pain.

“I propped up my brother and publicly declared I had no such ambitions. Finally, finally, everything had settled down…… And then, just when the situation had taken yet another turn for the worse because of my work at the Center, you go and open your stupid mouth. All my work gone in a single day, just like that.”

“I-I'm sorry…”

“I don't really need your apologies. Now, stand up, Ichiryuu. Weren't you going to help me train?”

Yukiya slashed the air with his sword. Still on the ground, Ichiryuu dodged the hit and crawled away in another attempt to escape. Yukiya cackled and ever so slowly started to walk after him.

“You aren't a worm. Stop crawling and stand up—if you can, that is,” Yukiya shouted at him. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Then, just at that moment—

“Stop, Yukiya!”

The dojo’s tightly closed door opened in unison with a heartrending cry. Yukima, white as a sheet, appeared at the other side. Yukiya's raised sword stopped in mid-air as his body visibly tensed.

“Brother.”

“Don’t you think that's enough? It's not like Ichiryuu truly meant us any ill.”

Yukima must have been in a hurry to find this place. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he was clearly struggling to breathe. Faced by his older brother, Yukiya looked around, as if he was just thinking about something, and finally lowered his sword.

“Is that an order?”

“What?”

“If you give me the order, I’ll follow it.”

The two brothers intently looked at each other for a while and, in the meantime, Ichiryuu could only pray as he watched them. Finally, a very saddened Yukima broke the silence.

“As the next Township Lord, I order you: stop right now.”

“Understood.”

Yukiya dropped the bamboo sword. Once again, he turned towards Ichiryuu. There was a clear, easy-going smile on his lips. “I don't think it will ever happen, but just in case: better be careful to not ever show any kind of ill will towards Taruhi. If you do, I'll be coming after you with everything I have.”

“I'm sorry, Ichiryuu. He has been going through a lot lately,” Yukima whispered before leaving the place as well. “That said, you should be careful too. We aren't only our own people, you know.”

That second part left a strong impression on Ichiryuu. “So, ‘don't be selfish’, huh… Ouch!”

Using the remaining ointment from the tournament, Ichiryuu took care of his wounds by the dojo’s veranda. Every single one of his wounds could be easily hidden away under his clothes, which was just as surprising as clearly intentional. Yukiya was obviously used to this kind of thing, albeit in a whole different sense than Ichiryuu.

There was a part of him which was shaking in fear and frustrated by what had just happened. Another, however, just felt some form of pity. He couldn't escape a feeling that he had just taken a peek behind the curtain, to the kind of life the Taruhi brothers had lived through.

From the entrance of the temple, he could hear the lively music and people's laughter.

A realization had come to him as well. If Yukiya had actually tried at the tournament, his results would have been completely different. He could feel his mood dampening by the moment. He didn't feel like going out to play, not anymore.

“Aaah, dammit!” Ichiryuu yelled, sprawling on the floor.

His family was the kind to ruthlessly hit each other during fights and throw insults all the time, and they were more like bandits than nobles. Yet, after all this time, he had finally come to notice something: they were truly fortunate, blessed even.

May as well go to the Monastery.

It would make his family happy. Plus, that way he should also be capable of fulfilling that so-called ‘responsibility’ Yukiya had talked about.

——Besides, he did say he wasn't ever going to go there.

Anyway, for the time being, better put the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’ to rest.

——————————————————

1: The festivals usually known as Kinensai (祈年祭), which is indeed to pray for good crops, and Niinamesai (新嘗祭), in which newly harvested rice is offered to the gods by the Emperor. Though they’re only tangentially mentioned, the specific timing of both of them matters, so I found it better to localize them.

2: Kagura (神楽) refers to ritual dances and songs considered sacred by Shintoism and usually performed at shrines.