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xalygatorx · 1 day ago

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A Case of the Slumps | Alastor x Depressed!GN!Reader

Summary: It seems you've brought your brain chemistry down to Hell with you. Figures.

Warnings/Tags: Hurt/Comfort, depression and related symptoms/thoughts (obvi), cinnamon roll Charlie, Angel gives you a Xanax but you don't take it, platonic Alastor with a hint of possible unspoken romantic feelings, unexplained cause of death, present tense for some reason, reader is gender neutral

A/N: Crosspost of a recent oneshot from my AO3 because I figured if I'm in a slump, someone else probably is too. x

Sometimes it was a thought. Sometimes it was the time of year or the weather, when Hell's crimson sky was kept dark for long periods of time by an uptick of brimstone in the atmosphere or the lingering storm clouds after an acidic downpour. Sometimes it was a memory. A song. A smell.

Sometimes it was seemingly nothing at all.

Just like when you were alive, your now-dead brain hasn't lost its particular quality of liking to work against itself. It's impossible to say whether it's a continued chemical imbalance—that'd be likely right? If demons can do drugs, then clearly there's still something to brain chemistry in Hell—or if death took a snapshot of your self and your mind as they were in life.

It doesn't really matter what it is either because it still affects you just the same. And because you haven't had a depressive episode yet post-mortem, you haven't done any of the legwork you had to do in life on your own to figure out what's "wrong" with you, who might hear you and listen, and what medication(s) works.

So when it does hit, it hits like a tidal wave no one else can see. The wave itself, anyway—everyone can see you drowning.

That first slump isn't kind enough to hit in the morning when you can sleep in—or rather stare with dead eyes at the wall, bundled under your duvet and blankets as you put off the day passing by around you. No, that first slump hits in the middle of one of Charlie's exercises, one that you were enthusiastic about participating in just an hour ago. What happened?

You know. This feeling is an old friend you'd hoped to never meet again.

Charlie doesn't though, not right away. After you excuse yourself by means of referencing a stomachache you only kind of have—and only from the emptiness pooling in your gut and humming in your chest—she catches up to you in the hallway.

"Hey!" she chirps, leaning around to look at you when you stop but don't turn around. If anything, you curl further into yourself. She doesn't notice though—the only ones who would notice your change are the ones who know to look for it. Charlie, bless her heart, doesn't have that earthly world experience yet. "Do you want us to wait up for you or…?"

"Oh, uh, no," you stammer out, yearning for a big hoodie to comfortably drown in or a cup of tea, the idea of which sounds lovely but you don't even like tea. Everything that would normally feel like a treat sounds stressful or unappetizing, leaving you uncertain about what exactly you're meant to be doing. That's when the lethargy hits hardest. "I don't feel well, so I'm just gonna rest for a while."

Charlie's brow scrunches. You can tell she's about to argue that you'll never get into Heaven if you don't stick to the exercises and something akin to a sudden flash of anger roils in your chest, kicking the dead gray weight of apathy in the teeth. Because how dare she question your commitment, your hopes, your dreams, because you're walking away this one time?

But if this is like life, if this can happen again now, how many more times will it happen? Is it over for you?

Something clicks behind her eyes though as she watches your face. You don't know this, of course, but she's seen the same look on Vaggie's face before. Primarily right after they found each other—Vaggie also fell into a pit of her own pain and trauma, a victim of her new normal until the new normal became preferable.

And, on those days, Vaggie didn't always want to be with Charlie. At some point, Charlie had to learn that it often had nothing to do with her when that happened, too. It helped her understand her father better, too, in the end. She'd needed to reach out to him, but she'd had to let Vaggie come to her when she was ready. Both were valid approaches for different people.

She decides to trust that you'll make it clear to her what you need when you're ready.

"Okay," she says and her kind voice spears your anger with guilt, killing it instantly. You were always good at that, weren't you? Pushing away the people who care. "You have my number. You have everyone's number—well, everyone with a phone anyway. Just let us know if you need something. Anything. Okay?"

You clench your teeth to hold back the burn of tears working its way up your throat. "Okay. Thanks, Charlie," you say and it comes out as sincerely as you mean it, which is good. At least something's gone right today.

"Would you like a hug?" Charlie offers, starting to hold out her arms and then hesitating when she wonders if that could feel like she was pressuring you.

You think about it and decide it's worth a try. "Sure," you say and you step into her arms. She runs even hotter than the other sinners you've met, being Hellborn. It's like cozying up just a couple inches too close to a fireplace, but it doesn't burn. She just feels like the hearth in the place that's swiftly become your home.

She doesn't let go before you're ready, but the second she feels you shift to step back, she lets her arms drop. She gives you a little wave before scampering back down the hall to resume the exercise in the lobby, leaving you to resume your trek to the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator and you've tapped the button for your floor, you fall back against the wall of the lift and run your hands down your face, sighing into your palms.

What you wouldn't give for an on-paper, calculable test that you could fill out and hand to a doctor or psychologist or someone who could tell you with complete certainty what's wrong with your brain and how to fix or endure it. Not only so you could feel better, but so you wouldn't be such a burden to your new friends, your found family. What good were you like this?

(The reality is that the group downstairs is mildly concerned, but otherwise just fine. Charlie can manage the exercise through sheer optimism alone and she has enough bandwidth to do that and be available to you as your friend whenever you need something.

A couple of the others noticed your deflated exit, perhaps because they've once been through similar episodes, and are either just hoping you feel better or trying to come up with some nice gesture to make whenever they see you next. Everything you're worried about or sure you've messed up is a product of your dopamine-deficient brain.)

You pass Angel in the hall on your way to your room as he's heading out for work and he, of course, knows that look. He just hasn't seen it on you before. He offers you a many-armed hug and what he tells you is a Xanax, telling you to text him if you need anything or just want to talk and he'll check on you whenever he's freed from the studio next.

You appreciate his offers and agree to all of it, except the unwrapped, unlabeled pill, which you get rid of once you're in your room. You trust Angel, but you're too paranoid about making whatever you're feeling worse. You barely knew how to deal with it in life, what's it going to be like in Hell?

A stretched-out old hoodie is procured from your closet and you tug it on, smoothing your hair back down as you amble toward the bed. You burrow under the blankets and try to sleep, but of course it doesn't come. You're not tired, after all. You're not even sad. There's just nothing where there's meant to be something, anything in your chest.

Hours pass and, even though you're not helping yourself by lying curled on your side and staring at the wall, you're listless. You can't talk yourself into getting up or getting something to eat. It's even hard to convince yourself to look at your phone, maybe because you've heard it buzz a few times with texts likely asking how you're doing. You don't want to answer them until it's a good answer. Until you can say you're doing better. Anything else is a disappointment, surely, for all involved.

Someone's knuckles rapping against your door makes you jolt, but you sink back into that unsteady feeling of mentally treading water instead of answering. They'll go away if they think you're sleeping. It's probably Charlie anyway, maybe checking on you ahead of dinner. Was it really almost dinnertime?

That was enough to motivate you to extract one arm from beneath the duvet, extend your hand to your phone, and tap the screen to wake it up. It was after dinner. Time was a construct and someone was still at the door, knocking more sharply now.

You bundle your arm back under the bedding, keeping your back to the door. Charlie wasn't that hard of a knocker, so maybe she'd sent Vaggie up to check on you? Husk tended to pound on doors with the side of his fist (and not come near any potentially weepy situation with a ten-foot pole), so it probably wasn't him. It might be Angel, you supposed. Short studio session, if so. Perhaps Pen, but the source of the noise was too high up to be Niffty. She'd barge on in anyway…

"My dear, I can hear you moving around in there, you know," the Radio Demon's voice informs you through the door and your heart nearly stops a second time.

Not Alastor, you sigh inwardly, covering your face in your hands again and trying not to groan lest he hear that, too.

It wasn't that you disliked Alastor. In fact, that wasn't the case at all. You'd been a bit scared of him at first, sure, when you'd initially crossed the threshold of the Hazbin Hotel and who could blame you? He was an imposing figure, someone you'd heard of within days of falling into Hell despite his seven-year sabbatical from the Pentagram.

He was also a prominent public figure from his radio show. That was how you'd first tried to get to know him a little better—you'd started tuning into his broadcasts, getting better at predicting the shrill screams of the souls he tore apart just before they blared through your speakers. You still missed them on occasion and would violently jolt upward from wherever you were sitting or lying while listening, floundering for the volume dial and usually finding it well after you needed it.

Alastor had spotted you do exactly that once during a prerecorded broadcast and, after he'd run the gambit of jokes he could make at your expense, the barrier that had existed between you two since your arrival started to come down. And while the jarring screams hadn't stopped, your radio's volume would inexplicably drop on its own ahead of them from then on. You couldn't come up with any explanation for this that didn't include Alastor's influence, but what may have been a kindness on the Radio Demon's part was directly rivaled by his then-new penchant for bursting out of the speakers in a swirl of shadow to scare you, himself, and ask you for feedback on the day's stories.

Those interruptions had become short bouts of small talk in the hall, a couple of cooperative efforts to cook the crew a delicious dinner, him holding doors for you whenever you happened to be traversing the hotel in the same direction… Little things. Lots of little things that had ended up with you considering him a friend, but who knew how he felt. He probably just thought you were amusing. What made it even worse was that you were beginning to suspect the extra pitter-patter of your heart whenever he showed up was no longer adrenaline anticipating him scaring you, but butterflies.

You poor thing. You weren't sure you could've picked a more surefire way to make a fool of yourself.

"I'm not decent," you finally say in an attempt to deter him, wincing a little at the hoarse quality of your voice. You'd only cried a little during your time in your room that day, but you'd cried hard. Partially in an effort to exorcise some of the bad feelings you were harboring, but it hadn't helped much.

"Well! Under all those blankets, I wouldn't even know, now would I!"

You squeak as you startle so much from hearing his staticky voice right behind your head that you end up in a heap on the floor between the wall and your bed.

By the time you untangle yourself from the duvet and pop your head out of the heap, he's maneuvered himself to the edge of the mattress and is peering over it while lying on his barely existent stomach. A thin, but amused smile curls his lips as his legs idly kick behind him like he's a high school girl at a sleepover.

"Was that necessary?" you ask, any amount of riling up he'd done with his sudden entrance falling away from you as your slump saps it of its vigor in one go.

Alastor's brows rise into his fringe, clearly a little caught off-guard. You can understand why—you usually either laugh or, if he gets you badly enough, clutch your chest and scold him for nearly causing your second death via a heart attack.

He tilts his head at you as his eyes narrow and you can't tell if he's confused or zeroing in on his prey. Honestly, in your current condition, you can't get yourself to care. Maybe he'll put you out of your misery for your cheek.

"Mm, I deemed it so," Alastor says, his luminous red eyes blinking down at you as he leans forward ever-so slightly. He's clearly on edge and you digest this as a display of annoyance, but he's concerned (and doesn't like that he's concerned). He's never seen you like this. "Are you ill, cher? It's quite unlike you to miss dinner."

"In a matter of speaking," you allow as you stand up, brush yourself off, and gather up your duvet into a large wad in your arms. You maneuver it back onto the bed and into a sort of nest you can return to, careful not to jostle or accidentally touch Alastor as he remains partially prone across the foot of the bed and watches you work. Mindful of how little he likely knows about mental health, given his time period, you explain in a few words, "My brain is sick."

He blinks, not sure what to make of what you've said. "Your…brain?" he repeats uncertainly. "How so?" Alastor also deems himself "sick in the head," but he's fairly certain that his brand of insanity isn't what you're referring to in yourself.

You nestle into the duvet, missing how his eyes soften a touch at how small you look right now. You take a deep breath and let it huff out as you force yourself to look at him. If he just wants to torment you a bit, this will expedite him getting it out of his system so you can go back to your staring contest with the wall. If he's not just here to make fun of you…well, then that would be surprising.

"I have depression," you finally admit and you wonder when the last time was that you said those words out loud. Even in life, it was a rare moment when you'd be met with someone who was worth explaining yourself to—most people either didn't understand because they'd never been through it themselves or because they didn't want to understand. Over time, you'd just given up trying to be honest about your struggles because being demeaned or invalidated for them just made you feel worse.

"A what now?" Alastor asks, cocking one brow as he turns to lie on his side with his head propped against one hand. His fluffy ears twitch a little but stay upright, alert, and turned in your direction.

"It's a mood, uh…ailment," you explain, thinking he might not know what a "disorder" is either. You're not familiar enough with what terms people would've used to refer to mental health in his time, so you're overcareful with the words you choose. "My brain chemistry wasn't right in life—my body didn't produce enough of the chemicals that make us feel happy, so I'd get into really bad slumps. Exhausted, sad, sometimes just numb slumps. Apparently that came down here with me, too."

"So…you're in a 'slump'?" he repeats slowly, testing the word you'd used on his tongue.

In moments like this, you find him unbearably cute—from his twitchy ears made restless by the rate of his thoughts to his wide, considering eyes as he tries to absorb what you're telling him. He's a very good listener when he's not in the middle of a bit.

"Yes," you tell him and he relaxes slightly at the confirmation. "I feel dead inside, honestly. Which is funny to say now that I'm actually dead, but it's just… I just don't feel much of anything. Or I do and it just feels empty and hollow. That's kind of worse than feeling sad."

He hums and offers, "A smile is our greatest weapon, dear. We've discussed this."

"Not against this, it's not," you sigh, just waiting now for him to get frustrated or bored with you. "I'm not trying to be difficult, Al, I swear. It's just… I can't fake what I'm feeling. I've tried! I wish I could mask half as well as you can, but it's hard. It takes energy I just don't have in times like this."

Alastor evaluates you with a glance and asks, "Then what is your weapon of choice against these…slumps?"

You tug against the seam of the duvet wrapped around you, all nervous fidgeting. "I never really figured anything out," you admit and it feels like a failure. It feels like because you can't offer him a solution to your problem, your problem must not be a problem. You remember so many exasperated faces looking back at you at times you'd admit the very same. He just looks at you though, clearly thinking. "Sometimes just waiting for it to pass was the answer. I was on medication for it at one point, but it never helped very much. I know I need to eat, but I just feel a bit nauseous when I think about food."

"Then food should be on the docket, certainly, but perhaps not just yet," he muses, sitting up as he continues to regard you. "What else?"

You throw your hands up helplessly. "I'm not sure. I'm sorry," you say. "Maybe I need to go hug Charlie again or something, that didn't fix anything earlier, but it didn't hurt."

Alastor scoffs. "Is my comfort not up to your standards, dear?" he needles you, his tone confident even as his smile wavers slightly.

You blink and shake your head even as you scramble to try and understand what he's implying. "Of course not," you quickly say. "I just… You don't have to do that kind of stuff, you know? I know it's uncomfortable for you and I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

He chuckles and a mischievous smirk overtakes his features as he leans in and pulls you toward him via the duvet, taking an indulgent look at the blush reddening your face before he tightens the blanket cocoon around you and adds his arms to the equation after. You get the hint not to take your arms out and touch him and you're not even sure you could if you wanted to. You're frozen in place, comically close to a deer in headlights, and you can feel the heat inflaming your cheeks.

It's nice to feel something for the moment.

"Um… Alastor?" you ask, stopped from looking up at him when his pointed chin settles against the crown of your head. "You… Why?"

"Why, what?" he asks, but it's just to put off answering and you have some inkling that this might be the case despite his casual tone.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, embarrassed by how vulnerable you sound to yourself.

"I can't have you sat here in one of your 'slumps' by yourself, darling," he mused, one of his hands absently tracing over your back.

It takes a lot for you to not lean into the touch, but you're terrified of scaring him off. You're also terrified of overthinking this though, especially as he settles in around you, his larger body usually used to intimidate and tower over others making you feel oddly safe. Then again, even in his most antagonistic moments with you, have you ever felt in danger?

"Why not?" you ask softly.

"You ask a surprising number of questions over something so simple as this," Alastor notes and his words cause a puff of warm breath to stir your hair. You shiver a little and he chuckles.

"But it's not simple for you," you murmur, letting yourself relax a bit as he impatiently tugs you closer to fit you against his chest. He's certainly not as gentle as Charlie, but you imagine he's far less practiced in this sort of thing than she is. It hits you harder because you know he's trying. And perhaps because you—silly, silly you—have a tragic little crush on the Radio Demon. "And… Well, I appreciate it. That's all."

Alastor hums and admits, "It's simpler than expected. And not unwelcome." You feel his chin shift against your crown, like he might be looking down at you, as he asks, "Is it helpful? Or is dear Charlotte's attention still preferable?"

You have to bite your lips a little to keep from smirking—that sort of tone can only indicate that he's jealous. Once again, you find him unbearably cute and it'll likely one day lead to your second untimely demise once he realizes how you feel.

"Yes, it's helpful. And preferable," you confess and you can almost feel his chest puff with pride. "This is really nice. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, dear," he says, glancing down and watching you cave to fatigue and fall asleep as he feels your weight settle further into his chest.

Alastor chuckles and gives you time to fully settle into a more restful state before he shifts your body around and situates you on your bed. He'd first considered staying, but figures having something for you to eat at the ready when you wake is a better use of his time. At least that's the reason he gives himself to go.

The truth is he can't remember the last time he honest to goodness comforted someone. There's a tickle in the back of his brain, a voice asking if he's losing his edge. Asking if you'll see him now as less than he is, which (in his mind) is a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord and nothing more.

He can't deny though that he's savoring the lingering warmth from your body on his coat. And, as much as he doesn't understand these "slumps" or the depression you referenced, he didn't like seeing you look so sad.

And he supposes if he must occasionally soften his sharp edges a bit to help keep his favorite guest present and smiling, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #asexual alastor #soft alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #cw depression #cw mental health

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peachdues · 16 hours ago

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I vowed not to fight anymore, if we survived the Great War

Giyuu shot up in his futon, his hand flying to the stump where his sword arm used to be. For the briefest moment, he thought he could feel his hand clenching around his blade once more, as though it were still a natural reflex.

As though he still lived in a world where he’d need it.

His breath was ragged as he tried to calm down, counting backwards from ten as he worked to take in his surroundings, needing to convince himself that he was not in that cursed demon castle, unable to fight his way out; he was home, he was safe, he was —

“Giyuu?” A sleepy voice came from his right, and the ravenette felt the shift in the padding of his futon as a gentle hand patted its way up his side, seeking him out.

Y/N’s hand came to rest on the shoulder of his missing arm, thumb running circles into his skin. Giyuu breathed deeply through his nose, closing his eyes and focusing on the soft warmth of her touch.

After a few breaths, the tightness in his lungs eased. With a quiet exhale, Giyuu’s hand found hers at his shoulder and held it in place, allowing her to continue grounding him.

“Go back to sleep, beloved,” Giyuu inwardly cursed at the way his voice cracked, and again at the way he felt his fiancé tense slightly beneath his grip, sensing his distress.

He wished his voice hadn’t betrayed him, for he felt Y/N shift once more as she sat up, bringing the soft blanket up with her to cover her bare chest.

“My love?” Her voice was gentle yet concerned as Y/N drew herself up next to him, pressing her lips against his shoulder. “Has something troubled you?”

Giyuu’s grip around the hand on his shoulder tightened. “Nothing is the matter — I am only restless.” He twisted his head to brush his lips quickly against her knuckles, though he could not bring himself to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry for disturbing your rest.”

He felt his fiancé’s head shake as she rest her cheek against his upper back, her hair tickling his skin. “Have you had another nightmare?”

He knew it was irrational, but he felt his jaw clench, anger flaring through him; not at her, but at the fact he couldn’t get a grip on how that damn castle haunted his dreams.

Or on the way those dreams had begun featuring the bodies of his fallen comrades, more and more.

“I’m only restless,” Giyuu repeated, his voice a bit harder as he gently removed Y/N’s hand from his shoulder.

Though he was turned away from her, he could hear how she fidgeted under the blanket in her unease.

“Giyuu,” her voice had taken on a surprising timidity that made his gut twist with both guilt and frustration. “I cannot help you if you do not let me in.”

“How could you help me?” The words shot out of his mouth before he could stop them, but once he started, Giyuu could not stop. “What have you seen, what troubles have you endured, that plague you at night? That would make you understand?”

He did not have to look at her to know that Y/N recoiled at his harshness, and the heavy silence between them settled like lead in his gut.

“Y/N, that was —“ Giyuu began.

“You’re right.” Y/N’s voice was soft, so incredibly soft that he almost didn’t hear her. “Forgive me, Giyuu. I did not mean to imply I understood what you’ve gone through. I only meant that I wish to help ease your burdens.”

The former Pillar finally turned to face his fiancé, and the moment he did, he felt himself crumple at the sight of her eyes, full of sadness at his words.

Full of a curious wariness, too, as though she were searching for something within his own eyes, something that made her tense and apprehensive.

#giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #kny x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba

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satorushellokittypjs · 15 hours ago

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♥️Sukuna short stories♥️

✨8PM Edition✨

✨Boyfriend!Sukuna x Fem!reader✨

“Hey babe you hungry—“ you called out, suddenly realizing your boyfriend was no where in sight. “The hell?” You whisper as you began to go through the house. “Kuna! Helloo? BABE!”

“WHAT?!”

There he is. You opened your office/gameroom door and you see him in front of the tv, playing MarioKart. You blinked, quite appalled that your boyfriend even knew how to play video games since he’s the King of Curses and what not.

“Whatcha doin’?” You called out from the door way. Sukuna did look quite cute. Wrapped in a blanket, controller in hand, and his eyes glued to the screen.

“I’m trying out this car racing thing i see you play all the time. You play by yourself mainly though..so i thought i’d get good then play with you.”

Your eyes widened and you smiled so prettily he could see it from the corners of his eyes, so much so he smiled back. Yet he was still glued to the screen. “And since you’re so damn good, if i get good i’ll fuckin’ annihilate you in everything then~!”

You rolled your eyes at that one, laughing in a soft huff, “yes yes, sounds just like you. Now anyways, are you hungry, i was gonna buy Mcdonalds.”

“Mc-what now?” He just got 5th place and he groaned as he turned to look at you. “What does this Macdons have?”

“Oh it has Hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, the best fries to save your live and chicken nuggets.” You nodded your head, “also, if your gonna annihilate me you might wanna do better then 5th~” you winked.

Sukuna’s eyes went dark, you knew your boyfriend was a serious man that could actually kill thousands if he wanted to. And yet, he chose to live a happy life with you out of love. Funny how that happens. but his eyes, when they’re that dark, you know he means business.

“Yeah yeah, well..i want one of everything. And a large drink will do.” He hummed and turned back to the tv.

Damn, then what the hell was that look for? To scare you? Hah! You’re scared of Sukuna but his stares normally just turn you on now~

“Alright, i’ll be back! And please, don’t do anything out of mischief..”

“Ya ya i’m listenin’” like hell he was, he’s such a mischief breed of man.

So for the rest of the evening, you had sat down with Sukuna in the floor, showing him pointers of how to drive faster on MarioKart. All the while he scoffed down Fries and Nuggets and literally died when he drunk the sprite drink, saying you were trying to kill him with battery juice.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk ramblings #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #soft sukuna #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna

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megumiluvv · 16 hours ago

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Choso has noticed these little things with you lately. Just simple things, like how you clean his apartment while Yuji naps, or how you take naps on his couch on particularly boring days. He finds himself subconsciously leaving a blanket out on the couch before he leaves for work, or stacking the pile of dishes in the sink so it’d be easier to manage.

He comes home after a rough day, working one of his umpteen jobs where many customers (who aren’t always right, he finds) yell at him for hours, and sees that you’re asleep on the couch, the dishwasher is going, and dinner has been cooked. Though nothing regarding the dinner has been actually eaten, maybe you were waiting for him to come home? He sets his things down, trying to be quiet and let you sleep, but his keys fall and wake you up with a start.

“Who’s there?” You sit up, sleepiness evident in your voice.

“It’s just me, don’t worry.”

“Gah, I fell asleep,” you mumble and get off the couch, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders.

“That’s alright. Yuji still asleep?”

“Yeah, gotta wake him up…”

“I’ll do it,” Choso says.

“No, you look like you had a rough day, and if I sit down again, I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Didn’t know my couch was that comfortable.”

You laugh and go to wake Yuji, while Choso warms up the food. Yuji clings to you when you exit the boy’s bedroom, Choso can tell he’s been asleep for a while. The kid perks up when he sees food, though, and hops from your arms to the dinner table.

Another little thing Choso has noticed: you always walk certain paths to get somewhere in his apartment. Like taking the left side of the hall to get to Yuji’s room, or going behind the couch to get to the bathroom. Round the corner quickly and dodge the ends of the kitchen island by curling your body the other way. However, sometimes you miss and hit your side, making Yuji giggle and eliciting a groan of pain from yourself.

You sit down, rubbing your side that’s sure to bruise tomorrow, and poke Yuji’s nose playfully. The boy giggles and shoos your hand away, then takes a bite of his food. Choso sits with you two and eats quietly, just observing.

When did this all start to feel so normal? You’re just his neighbor, but you feel like part of the family now. You’ve also gotten used to when Sukuna visits, even combatting the witty remarks with some of your own.

“Choso, chooosoooo, anyone there?” You tease and get his attention.

“Hm?”

“Are ya tired or somethin’? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Ah, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s alright, just wanna check on you is all.”

“Thank you. I’m alright, just had a long day at work.”

“I see. Go get some sleep, I’ll put Yuji to bed and lock the door on my way out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this. Take care of yourself, Choso.” You smile and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Why are you so perfect?

Yuji watches as Choso goes to bed and looks up at you. “He looks at you like how Megumi looks at pretty flowers.”

You would’ve choked on your food if you didn’t swallow two seconds before the boy spoke. “What does that mean, Yu?”

“I dunno, maybe he thinks you’re pretty. I think you are. I’m gonna go put on my pajamas.”

And just like that, the boy disappears, leaving you alone to process the words he said. You eventually snap out of it and clean up, tucking Yuji into bed and making sure he’s asleep before going next door to your apartment. What did Yuji mean by that? Is there a chance he likes you too? You never noticed anything out of the ordinary, so what little thing did Yuji notice?

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf @mysteriaqueen

#brothers babysitter au #pre-date but really super close to the date if that makes sense :3 #but like #before he asks you out #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso #choso fluff #choso x reader #choso x you #jjk choso kamo #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo x reader

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in1-nutshell · 18 hours ago

Note

With tfa Megatron getting a version of Ophelia can you give earthspark megs his own Ophelia? And him just getting parenting tips from dot?

Introducing TFE Ophelia!

Hope you enjoy!

TFE Ophelia

SFW, Platonic, Familial, ANGST, Mention of injuries, Hinted Romance, Cybertronian reader

TFE

She was a small sparkling living near the mining tunnels when D-16 first found her.

The poor thing was all soot covered and looked like she hadn’t refueled in a long time.

He kept on passing her scraps of energon, until one day he picked her up and brought her home.

Orion was surprised to find the sparkling in a highchair munching happily on an energon goody in his friend’s home.

Orion: “…” D-16: “… Pax—” Orion: “What happened to ‘I’m not getting attached’?” D-16: “I’m not!” Orion raises his optic and looks at D-16’s arms. They were filled with blankets, a heating pad and energon bottle with markers. Orion: “Right…” The sparkling chirps. Orion: “Just wait until Ariel finds out you have been keeping a sparkling from her.” D-16: “Wait no!”

Given the tight work hours D-16 and Orion were given, it was up to Ariel to help out with the babysitting.

Sure, she was also working similar hours, but she had managed to get it fixed enough for her to babysit the sparkling.

Ariel absolutely adored the tiny bean, even strapping the bean to her chassis so she could exercise while having the sparkling nearby.

Though D-16 made sure to start being more present once he came back and his sparkling started giving him Ariel’s signature smirk.

It would also be on one of these visits that she would get her name.

D-16 and Orion arrive at Ariel’s home. Ariel opened the door with the sparkling clinging to her helm. Ariel: “Welcome home mechs.” They all entered the home. D-16 tries to get his sparkling, but Ariel swats his servo away. Ariel: “No touching Ophelia until you’ve decontaminated yourself.” D-16: “I suppose—wait, Ophelia?” Ariel puffs her chassis. Ariel: “That’s her name! Isn’t that right Ophelia?” The sparkling whirls and chirps happily. Orion coos and reaches out for her but is also swatted by Ariel’s servo. Ariel: “That includes you too Pax!” D-16: “You named her! I was supposed to name her!” Ariel: “Okay what did you have in mind?” D-16: “… Lithia?” Ariel: “No.” D-16: “What do you mean no!” Orion: “Why don’t we let her decide. Call out her name and see which one she reacts best.” D-16: “Lithia, hey Lithia look at me.” The sparkling just stared at him blankly. Ariel: “Ophelia!” The sparkling starts giggling and chirping. Orion: “Guess that’s settled then.”

Ophelia wouldn’t have too many memories of her Uncle Orion and Auntie Ariel.

Too young to be thrusted into a war.

Given Ophelia being a youngling, there wasn’t much she could do.

Mainly staying by Megatron’s side or with any other trusted Con’s on base.

Which was really just Soundwave.

He mainly watched over her, so she never went too far or did anything dangerous.

The mini’s also helped and made sure she was okay.

Megatron: “Soundwave, where is Ophelia?” Soundwave opened his chassis. Ophelia was snoring softly. He gently takes her out and places the minibot in his servos. She was still small enough to fit in his servos. Megatron nods: “Soundwave.” Soundwave nods: “Lord Megatron.”

Once she was older, Megatron started training her.

Not only in the ways of combat, but to ready her to be the new leader of the Decepticon’s when the time came.

At first it was okay, a bit intense for her smaller frame, but, she kept on going to make her father proud.

But soon the training was getting too intense, borderline torturous.

The sessions were starting to leave her limping, dented and bleeding.

There had been multiple times Con’s carried her or called someone to get her to the med bay from how beaten she was.

Ophelia was limping, clutching her bleeding pede. She tenses when she hears a set of pede steps. Frenzy and Rumble: “ ‘Lia!” Two sets of servos grab her shoulders. She yelps at the sudden touch. Ophelia quickly shuts her mouth and fakes a smile. Ophelia: “Hey Frenzy, Rumble…” A larger pair of servos carefully lifts her up. Soundwave: “What happened?” Ophelia groans. Ophelia: “Training was a bit… tougher today.” Soundwave’s visor darkened a bit before he started walking to the med bay.

Most cons had respect for Ophelia.

Though she was the the head archivist and known pacifist, Ophelia was kind, a trait almost lost in the war.

She cared for the cause.

And despite her size, the minibot always spoke to her father about the members of their cause, whether to remind him that there were still some cons left behind or the need to get more supplies to feed them.

It risked her getting harsher training sessions but it was something she was willing to take for them.

It was the reason many were still online to this day.

A reason why most had already sworn loyalty to her in the case she ever did become the next leader of the Decepticons.

It was years into the war, everyone was tired and restless for an end.

It had been a terrible mission and Starscream was naturally to blame.

Except this time, it wasn’t his fault.

Megatron didn’t see that.

And started beating him senselessly.

Ophelia was walking past the room when she spotted Starscream get thrown into the wall. She stopped in her tracks. No, there was no way Megatron would blame Starscream for today’s loss… She was proven wrong as the war lord stalked over to him. The minibot quickly ran into the room and got in between the fallen Seeker and Megatron. Her appearance had surprised them both. Megatron: “Ophelia. Move.” Ophelia: “Why are you punishing Starscream?! He hasn’t done anything recently to deserve it!” Megatron: “Step. Aside.” Ophelia started to tremble a bit but glanced at Starscream. His dents and scraps stopped her from moving. Firmly standing her ground, she looked at him straight in the optics. Ophelia: “No.” Both mechs were surprised by this. Megatron: “Starscream… leave us.” The Second in Command looked hesitant but ended up leaving the room. The minibot looked sternly at her father. Ophelia: “Father, this has gone on for far enough. The beatings, the training, this war! We need to change. We need to talk to—” SLAM! Ophelia didn’t even register the kick Megatron delivered on her chassis until she slammed into the wall and fell on her face. She tried to get up but yelped at a sudden harsh pressure on her backstruts. Megatron was stepping on her, hard. Ophelia: “FATHER! FATHER STOP! PLEASE!” CREAK! Ophelia screamed louder as her energon began pooling from the mini rivers from the new and old cracks in her frame. Ophelia: “FATHER! FATHER STOP! STOP YOU’RE HURTING ME! IT HURTS!” Megatron, with a face of no remorse, stomped on her one last time before looking at the damage. The floor had cracks and a small minibot indent in it. Energon dribbling from her frame and pooling underneath. By some miracle, Ophelia was still awake, just barely. He reached down and grabbed her helm and held her up. She yelped at the sudden harsh movements. Held at optic level, Megatron sneered at her, pressing his fusion canon close to her face. Megatron: “Let this be the last time you EVER think on crossing me, little one.” THUD! He dropped her on the ground and walked away. Ophelia cried as she tried to crawl on the floor. A set of unfamiliar pedes appeared in front of her. She couldn’t hear what was being said as the darkness consumed her. At the medbay… Soundwave was in the med bay with some of the medics. A Vechicon kicks down the door, he was holding a bloodied, limp Ophelia in his arms. Soundwave: “Stev—” Steve: “SOMEONE HELP HER!”

A few days after that beating, the entire Decepticon armada was shook to its core.

Megatron had defected.

Ophelia had to ask if she was still hallucinating from the medication given or the energon loss because it didn’t seem real.

Megatron?

Defect?

But he was their leader!

Why would he?!

How could he!?

Another realization fell on her.

With no leader, the title went to the next in line.

Ophelia was in charge now.

Shockwave, Starscream and Soundwave were behind her and ready to help the new leader in her position.

For once all four of them had begun to work together to try and keep everything from falling apart.

Ophelia did her best to to lead the Cons and she did a good job considering the circumstances, but given the closing of the spacebridge and the overwhelming forces of the Autobots and humans…

By splitting up, it would give the Autobots a harder time catching all of them than staying in one big group.

Ophelia sent the Cons one finally message on the main communication line.

Stay safe and hide.

There was no other alternative.

Ophelia was the last Con to leave the base before the human forces came.

She had left with Soundwave and lived with him for a while before a sudden GHOST trap had separated them.

She hadn’t seen or heard from Soundwave or anyone since.

Ophelia is stumbling across the rocky terrain. Ophelia had injured her pede from her last encounter with GHOST, the new human group hunting down Decepticon’s. She would have sent out a message to any Con still out there… if that human hadn’t blasted her communication set up. Ophelia was trying to climb up a set of steep rocks. SNAP! Ophelia lost her grip. She waited for her back to make contact with the ground. Instead, a pair of servos had caught her. They felt strangely familiar. Ophelia looked up at who caught her. It was a vechicon. They stared at each other for a minute before he placed her down gently. Steve: “Lady Ophelia! It is good to see you are well.” Ophelia: “… Ophelia.” Steve: “What?” Ophelia: “Please, don’t call me ‘My Lady’. Just Ophelia. And you are?” Steve: “Steve My—I mean Ophelia.” He notices her pede sparking. Steve: “What happened to you?” Ophelia grimaces: “GHOST lackeys got lucky.” Steve: “I think I have a med kit back at my hide out. It might help with that.” Ophelia starts to stand up, but Steve had picked her up and started carrying her bridal style. Ophelia: “You don’t need to do this. I still have a pede, I can walk.” Steve: “You still have a pede but you won’t if you continue to put more pressure and strain on it.” Ophelia blinked. Steve: “I’m sorry! I stepped out of line—” Ophelia: “What? No, no you’re right.” Steve blinked. Ophelia: “Forgive me, I can be a bit stubborn sometimes.” Steve smiles as he starts walking. Steve: “But that stubbornness did get the lower ranks more supplies and energon. Something many of us are grateful for.” Ophelia smiled shyly. The two chatted as they made their way to the hideout as the sunset in the horizon.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfe x reader #tfe x platonic reader #ophelia #tfe ophelia

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strandnreyes · 2 days ago

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thanks @nisbanisba @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings @carlossreaders @paperstorm !!

“The Ryders are hosting a game night this weekend.”

TK’s voice cuts above the rumbling of traffic outside. Carlos stays facing away, but he opens his eyes to stare at the dresser across from him. “Did we get invited or did you overhear that?”

“We were invited. Saturday at seven.”

Slowly, Carlos rolls over onto his back. He bunches the blankets up in his hands and he can feel TK staring at him. “We should go,” he says, because there’s no other option. They haven’t had too many group opportunities lately and though it’s what they should do, it’s what they’re here to do, Carlos has become attached to the quiet nights spent at home with TK.

He has work to do though. He knew TK was a distraction. He’s always known that.

“We haven’t been in their place yet,” TK reminds him, and Carlos finally looks over at him. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It would be a good time to snoop.”

“What do you want to snoop for?” he questions. Has there been something about them that he hasn’t picked up on yet?

“Nothing in particular.”

“Okay,” Carlos says slowly.

“This case is getting boring,” TK groans, and Carlos’ heart plummets. Here he is wishing to never leave and TK is counting down the days until it’s over.

“Oh.”

TK’s eyes widen briefly. “No, I mean… I’m having fun. More than I thought I would. This is so much better than drinking break room coffee and making rice-a-roni when I get home from the precinct at seven, but the case itself is so dry I’d think we were working over in the white collar division, not homicide.”

While Carlos’ heart rate returns to a normal pace, he has to consider that TK is right. “Yeah. We need to start making some headway.”

tagging @reyesstrand @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @whatsintheboxmh @tellmegoodbye @theghostofashton @ironheartwriter @orchidscript @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @alrightbuckaroo @chicgeekgirl89 @carlos-tk @carlos-in-glasses @basilsunrise @bonheur-cafe @butchreyes @mikibwrites @nancys-braids + open tag!!

#911 lone star #tarlos #wip wednesday

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raindrop-21 · 1 day ago

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The World Is Ugly, But You're Beautiful To Me

a/n: This is for @anotherbananasong based off of their earth and air. and big thanks to @thatfuckinjester for helping me write part of this fic

word count: 2.9k

cw: self hatred, sex as self punishment, smut, FtM Air, age regressed Pebble

Song that helped the creation of this:

Air used to love having his wings touched, both sexually and non-sexually. But now all he has left of his large, black and white, shiny wings are the scar-covered arcs.

Earth, his mate, hasn't touched him since he lost them out of guilt, and Air can't bring himself out of his room in the catacombs out of shame for losing the ‘one thing’ that made him look good.

It hurts to not be touched by the one whose soul is entwined with his, but the voices in his head tell him it's for the better, that Earth won't like him because of the loss of his ‘only’ attractive feature.

Alpha has tried to bed him, but is told no, which both surprises and angers them. Air doesn't want to be looked at with lust or break his mateship with Earth, but the loneliness gets too much and he needs to shut off his brain and just go numb.

What better way to do that than be used. There isn't one for Air and he gives into Alpha's insistent pushing. Like before when this would happen, Air lies on his stomach while the fire ghoul takes him from behind with no mercy to Air's scars; purposefully pressing on them and grabbing his shoulders while digging into the marks left on his glamoured form with their thumb.

Alpha even makes purposefully mean remarks about the scars and how they make his ‘subpar’ looks even worse than before.

The sex makes Air feel even worse than he did before. Usually he would stay in the bed and wallow in shame while Alpha snores next to him, but this time he leaves.

“Where you goin’, Skywhore?” The fire ghoul huffs as they roll over to look at the door.

Air flinches at the name, a name mocking the sweet one his mate gave him. The air ghoul doesn't respond, he just flips off Alpha before slamming the door behind himself; a sudden show of anger. An unusual reaction from the usually docile ancient.

Air makes his way to Earth's room, not even knocking before opening the door and dropping to his knees at the foot of Earth's nest.

The big earth ghoul sits up from where he was pretending to sleep and stares at his mate on the floor, scrunching his nose as the scent of sex and fire ghoul on him.

Earth hasn't spoken since he saw the fresh scars on Air's wings, the scars caused by him getting seen by outsiders in his true form. He can't bring himself to speak, but his scent gives him away; worried and angry.

Worried because Air is here unannounced and smelling of sex, angry because he knows who pressured him into sex.

“I'm sorry…” The air ghoul whispers, “I'm sorry I slept with Alpha again… Please don't keep ignoring me..”

Apologies after being bedded by Alpha are something Earth's used to hearing, but he can hear the true apology behind his words; “I'm sorry I lost my wings, your favorite part of me.”.

“C'mere, Skybird…” He mumbles with an outstretched arm.

Air hesitantly crawls into the nest, perfectly built to be big enough for the two's unglamoured forms, which Air unconsciously shifts to now that he's back in his safety net. One of his wings outstretch to cover Earth, forgetting that his feathers aren't there to act like a blanket.

Earth sighs as this happens, usually he would get upset that Alpha pressured his mate into sex again, but Earth is too tired from not having slept for the past few days and he doesn't want to upset Air.

He wraps his tail around Air's waist, even though Air is in his true form, which makes his body bigger, he can tell that even before he grew, his corset was too tight to be comfortable. The tip of Earth's maple leaf shaped tail starts to slowly undo the tight knots of the strings of the air ghoul's corset.

He knows the anxiety is flowing off of Air as the strings are undone, the strings that keep the sometimes uncomfortable pressure on his mate's body.

“Skybird…” He breathes out as he gets comfortable with his mate once more. He'll leave the tough conversations for the morning.

The next morning, Air has his corset back on, which is no surprise, and he's no longer in his true form.

Earth sits up, moving Air with him, which makes Air wake up. Air realizes what he's done once he's awake. He slept with Alpha and then slept in Earth's Bed.

“My love…” The Air ghoul whispers.

“I want to know why you slept with them, but I’m not going to ask why you slept with them.” Earth sighs, “But I will say; I'm sorry for ignoring you.”

“I wanted to shut my brain off… be numb for a while..” He mutters into Earth's shoulder.

“I shouldn't have ignored you, should've given you a shoulder to lean on..” The earth ghoul says softly as he gently runs his finger over the few leftover feathers on his mate's wings.

They spend the next few hours apologizing to and loving one another; Air whispering out his feelings and Earth helping him through it.

Over the next week, Air slowly gets more comfortable with Earth's touch on his back and what's left of his wings, even though it hurts a little.

While they're in Earth's bed, cuddling and kissing, Air can't help the way his body is reacting to his mate's body and he moves so that he's lying on top of Earth. The bigger ghoul sighs as Air lies on him and wraps his arms around his mate's small waist.

Air starts to gently grind against his mate's leg as he deepens the kiss. It's rare for Air to take the lead, but it's not unwelcome. Earth's not sure how far Air is wanting to go, but he'll listen to his little skybird and do whatever he wants.

Air's grinding has an effect on Earth and he starts to harden in his pants and his hands go from around Air's waist to on his hips, moving them so that Air's clothed cunt is pressed against his dick, earning a gasp from the other.

“We'll go as far as you want Skybird, if you need to stop, you can say the word.” He hums, “You remember it, right?”

“Yup.” The air ghoul breathes out, “I do, it's ‘fog’, or the color system.”

“Good.”

And with that, Earth pulls Air back into a heated kiss and starts moving Air's covered Tdick against his hard on. Air's feeling good, he's missed this; the lazy days with his mate.

More kissing and grinding turns making out and giggling while fumbling with clothes until they're both naked and Air is under Earth.

Earth is pressing soft kisses to the air ghoul's neck while scissoring two fingers inside of his mate.

“So pretty for me Skybird..” He hums into Air's neck, “You still okay? You wanna go further or stay here?”

“Still good.” The air ghoul affirms, “We can go further… I wanna feel you..”

“Alright, Love..”

With that, Earth removes his fingers from Air. He looks Air in the eye as he licks his fingers, making an exaggerated ‘mmm’ just to make him blush and squirm.

He lifts up Air's hips and wraps his legs around his waist before lining himself up with Air. He slowly pushed in, letting his tip push into Air, groaning at the familiar feeling.

He gives Air a moment to adjust, time to back out, but when the words don't come, he pushes in further, fully sheathing himself inside his mate.

Air lets out the prettiest of whines as he gets filled so deliciously. The comfort of being so intimately connected to his mate is intoxicating. So intoxicating he starts moving his hips without meaning to, just lightly grinding so that Earth's tip rubs against his g-spot.

“Eager now aren't you, little bird?” Earth says softly as he brushes a piece of copper hair out of Air's face.

“Feels good…”

“Good, you deserve to feel good.” The bigger ghoul responds with a smile.

Earth slowly starts rocking his hips in the way he knows his mate loves, which pulls quiet whines and whimpers from the ghoul under him. Air isn't always vocal, but that's just another thing Earth loves about his mate.

Earth presses kisses to Air's neck, sucking a few light marks into the pale skin and pulling back to look at his work.

“Beautiful.”

Air wraps his arms around Earth's neck, his claws digging into his mate's back as the steady rub of Earth's tip against his G-spot slowly makes him get closer to a painfully beautiful orgasm.

Earth's barely pulling out, but the fact that he's making Air feel good enough to get him off.

Earth moves to be sitting up and takes Air with him so the ghoul is now in his lap as he continues his shallow thrusts as he looks Air in the eyes.

“Skybird, I love you.” Earth whispers to his mate before pressing his lips to his mate's.

Earth's words, his hands on Air's hips, his movements, his lips, his scent, him, is enough to help push Air to that peak, making him fall apart in his mate's arms.

Earth swallows the whimper Air lets out and gives a few deeper thrusts to help Air ride out his orgasm before he starts to chase his own. It doesn't take long for Earth to spill himself into Air.

He's about to pull out of Air when Air stops him.

“Don't take it out… I wanna stay like this for a while…”

Earth is more than happy to stay inside his mate if it makes him happy.

Over the next few days Earth and Air get back comfortable with each other again, and eventually Earth wants to see the damage done to his mate's wings.

“Are you sure you want to see them?” Air mumbles, his voice full of insecurity, “They're not pretty anymore…”

“I'm so sure, Skybird.” The larger ghoul says softly as he gazes lovingly into Air's eyes, “The world may be an ugly place, but the loss of your wings won't make you a part of that ugliness. You'll always be beautiful.”

Air starts to tear up at Earth's words, but he quickly unglamours into his true form, letting Earth see the damage done to his once fluffy wings.

The feathers are gone, save for the few small ones on the arches that still try to grow. The smaller wings on the bottom seem to be in worse shape as when they were broken they weren't set to heal properly.

That bitch. Is all Earth can think before he wraps his arms around Air's waist.

Earth can feel the tears drop from Air's eyes which triggers his own tears to start falling.

“The world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me…” Earth mutters into Air's shoulder, “She can take your wings, but she can't take your beauty.”

“Hey Peb? Can I get you to do me a favor please?” Earth hums as his hand strokes through the little earth ghoul's hair.

The ghoul perks up from where he was coloring and looks to Earth with a nod.

“You know how Airy's wings got hurt?” He questions gently, receiving another nod, “I wanted to make him something for him to feel better. Before you leave today, I'm going to give you a little box, I want you to give it to Cumulus okay?”

Pebble gives yet another nod, this one more curious than anything.

“Thank you, hun.” Earth says with a smile.

“Hm? What's this little one?” Cumulus hums as she brushes her bangs out of her eyes to look at the box.

“From Earth.”

“Gotcha, thanks.” She says as she pockets it and picks up Pebble to take him to her room.

Cumulus lies Pebble down in her nest and lights a forest scented candle so he can relax and go to sleep. He's taken a liking to her room while he's in little space recently.

Once he's asleep, she opens the box to see what's in it. She sees some cash and a note.

I need a favor, I'll owe you one. I need you to go to the craft store and get stuff to make fake wings. Here are the dimensions; --cm by --cm. I don't know if this'll be enough, if it's not I'll give you more. Take your time making it. Take Pebble with you, he'll know the right color. -Earth

Why does he need fake wings made? Cumulus thinks to herself as she folds the note back up and puts it on her night stand. She mulls over the thought, she'll make the wings, she will, but she wants to know why.

The next day, ‘Lus gets Pebble ready to go to the store, he has to glamor down to his human and go without his mask. Doing one at a time is challenging for him, especially when he's little, so doing both is even harder. As a compromise, Cumulus lets him wear a medical mask and pretend he's sick.

They're walking through the aisles, trying to find the fake feathers, they're going to need a lot of feathers to make the fake wings for Earth.

Pebble is squeezing a stress toy he found on a shelf with one hand as he holds Lus's hand with his other hand. Pebble gives her hand two squeezes and points down an aisle they pass.

Cumulus looks down the aisle and sees feather boas; they're on the right track. She turns the cart to go down that aisle and her eyes scan the many long strings of faux feathers.

Pebble lets go of her hand and runs his fingers down the wall of faux feathers before stopping on a string of off-white almost light gray feathers.

“These… These are Air's.” He mumbles as he picks them up off the rack and hands them to Cumulus.

“Thanks my good little helper.” She says with a smile as she takes the boa and grabs a few more off the rack and tosses them into the cart.

Cumulus looks to her left and on the wall are bags of colored bird feathers, and she grabs all the bags of the ones that match the boas in the cart.

She takes the little earth ghoul's hand and they walk to the fabric section and get a few yards of a soft, silk fabric that's close to the color of the feathers in the cart before heading to the checkout.

Cumulus lets Pebble get the stress toy he's been playing with and a soda along with a candy as his reward for being a good helper. She can't help but spoil the little ghoul.

A few weeks of Cumulus becoming obsessed with finishing the fake wings go by and when she's done, she takes the wings down to catacombs to give them to Earth.

The further into the catacombs she goes, the more stale the air becomes and the harder it is to breathe. She reaches Earth's room and knocks on the door, which is quickly opened by Earth.

“Yeah? Who is it..? Oh! ‘Lus, you got ‘em?” He says excitedly.

“Yup,” She chirps, “They should fit perfectly, but can I ask why you needed them made?”

A long pause goes between the two before Earth speaks up.

“You'll see in a moment, come in.”

Cumulus does as he says and steps into the room to Air lying in the large nest in the room, reading a book with an oxygen tube going around his face and giving him fresh oxygen through his nose.

So it's not only her who struggles to breathe down here.

“Air I have a surprise for you that I had Cumulus make, can you come over here for a moment love?” Earth says softly as he shuts the door.

“Yeah, sure.” He says as he stands and walks over to them, taking off his oxygen hose, “What is it?”

“You're going to have to go into your true form, is that okay?” Earth explains.

Air hesitates for a moment, not sure if he wants to in front of a ghoulette he's barely spoken to, but he decides to do it since she's the one that made his surprise.

Cumulus is immediately shocked and angered at the sight of Air's featherless and broken wings.

“Who-” She starts before getting cut off by Earth.

“Imperator.”

Cumulus sees red but tries to hold it back while with Air. She takes a deep breath and starts unfolding the fake wings and handing them over to Earth.

With Lus's help, Earth quickly gets the fake wings securely attached to what remains of Air's actual wings. He won't be able to fly with them, but he'll have his wings back.

Once she's done helping, she slips out the door to go give Imperator a piece of her mind.

“Skybird.” Earth whispers, “Look in the mirror, love.”

When Air looks into the mirror, he starts to cry. He's looking at his wings, but also not at his wings. They look just like he remembers, but not the same at all at the same time.

“They're beautiful.” He chokes out as he touches them and feels the familiar yet unfamiliar softness.

Earth wraps his arms around his mate's waist, sensing the conflicting emotions within Air.

They stand there together, living in the moment, loving one another and basking in the beauty of each other.

The world may be ugly, but they'll always be beautiful to each other.

#air ghoul #earth ghoul #earth x air #nameless ghouls #cumulus ghoulette #alpha ghoul #pebble ghoul #regressed ghouls #the band ghost #rainy writes #rain writes #Spotify

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d-z20 · 1 day ago

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The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 10

Summary: Agatha and Rio finally meet to talk about what's between them

Warnings: none (I believe)

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Finally these two idiots have admitted they have feelings for each other, get ready to see their relationship more and more from now on

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A Confrontation of Hearts

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as Rio stepped lightly into the clearing. Agatha’s cottage stood hunched in the shadows, a relic of the past hidden deep within the forest. The stone walls were covered in a thick blanket of ivy and moss, giving the place an air of secrecy. The cottage was small, almost swallowed by the wilderness around it, but there was a strange comfort in its solitude, as though it had become part of the forest itself.

Rio hesitated at the threshold, her hand hovering above the weathered wooden door. It felt strange to her to use an actual entrance—to do something as common, as human, as knocking. She could’ve slipped inside, moved in and out of Agatha’s home without being seen, but she wanted to give Agatha the chance to acknowledge her presence, to see that she was here willingly. For once, Rio was here to wait.

She could feel Agatha’s presence inside, like a pulse she’d grown attuned to over time. It had only been a few days since their kiss, but it felt longer—each moment stretched thin by the weight of everything left unsaid. The memory of Agatha’s lips lingered like a phantom sensation, pulling her here despite her better judgement.

Taking a breath, Rio pushed open the door.

The interior was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the fireplace. The air was thick with the smell of damp wood, dust, and something herbal—lavender, maybe, mixed with a sharper, medicinal tang. It was clear Agatha had been trying to make the place her own; the remnants of old, broken furniture had been pushed aside, replaced with practical, simple pieces she’d brought in. The thick grime still clung stubbornly to the walls, as though the cottage itself refused to let go of its past.

Agatha was standing by the hearth, her back to Rio. The firelight cast long, dancing shadows across the room, highlighting the strong line of her form. She was dressed in dark practical clothes—a simple linen shirt tucked into long breeches, her long hair falling loose around her shoulders. There was tension in her stance, like a tightly coiled spring.

“You’re back,” Agatha said without turning around. Her tone was sharp, laced with irritation, but there was an undercurrent of something softer—something almost like relief.

Rio stepped inside, letting the door close softly behind her. The room felt smaller with the two of them in it, the air thick with unspoken words. “I am,” she replied, her usual teasing lilt absent from her voice.

Agatha turned then, her eyes flashing with a mix of emotions—anger, frustration, and something else Rio couldn’t quite place. “You disappeared. Again,” Agatha said, her voice hard. “You kissed me and then vanished like it meant nothing!”

Rio’s lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze. “I had business to attend to.”

Agatha crossed her arms, leaning back against the stone wall. “I don’t like to be kept waiting,” she retorted, the words laced with a double meaning. Her voice was low, a challenge, as if daring Rio to deny the impact of what had happened between them.

Rio raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Is that what this is about? You don’t like to be kept waiting?”

Agatha’s jaw tightened. “Don’t play games with me,” she snapped. Her eyes softened, but only for a moment before the hardened mask slipped back into place. “I thought—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “I hoped it was different this time.”

“It was,” Rio said quietly. Her voice was softer now, devoid of any of its usual playfulness. “It is.”

For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire, filling the silence with its gentle popping. Agatha pushed off the wall, stepping closer until there were only inches between them. The air felt charged, like the calm before the storm. “Then why did you leave?” she asked, her voice raw, almost vulnerable. “You show up, turn my life upside down, and then disappear whenever you feel like it. It’s infuriating.”

Rio swallowed hard, her expression faltering. “It was a game,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “At first it was. But it’s not anymore. And I told you: I left because I had a job to do.”

Agatha’s eyes searched Rio’s face, looking for any sign of deceit. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone softer now, the edge of anger fading into something like uncertainty.

There was so much Rio couldn’t say, but she took a breath and forced herself to speak. “When I watched you in the clearing that night, I was... impressed. The kind of power you had—it was almost magnetic.” She paused, her lips curving into a hint of a smile. “And I thought I’d have a little fun; see if I could push your buttons.”

Rio took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. This was the part she had avoided—the truth she had danced around. She thought back to that fateful night—Agatha’s birth, the moment she first felt the pull towards this child whose spirit shone brighter than most. She had told herself it was just morbid curiosity, just another life to oversee. But it wasn’t that simple, and it hadn’t been for a long time, ever since she first whispered in Agatha’s ear.

“I’ve felt connected to you from the very beginning,” Rio said, her voice trembling slightly. “I was there, Agatha, the night you were born. I watched you grow, watched you fight against everything life threw at you, and guided you when you seemed lost. I was drawn to you in a way I’ve never been before, but I didn’t understand it.”

Agatha’s expression softened, curiosity edging out the last of her irritation. “You must be a pretty powerful witch yourself to stay hidden like that,” she said quietly. “To be able to project yourself, appear and disappear as you please.” Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “And to have been watching me since I was born? Well, you must be really old,” she teased, her tone lightening. “Though I have to admit—you wear it well.”

Rio chuckled, the tension easing as she laced her fingers through Agatha’s. "Really old, huh? Yeah, you could say that; I’ve got a few centuries on me. But I’m glad you think so.”

Agatha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She looked away, her eyes darting to the fire as if searching for answers in the flames. “I wasn’t expecting this,” she admitted. “WIth the way you were messing with me, I wasn’t expecting you to feel… anything at all.”

Rio’s face softened, her usual confidence slipping as she allowed herself to feel vulnerable. “Neither was I,” she confessed. “But I do. And it terrifies me.”

She stopped herself from saying why. She couldn’t bring herself to reveal just what made her so afraid. If she told Agatha that she was Death itself, that every attachment she had made had been fleeting, and that every promise to stay was a lie in the face of her duty, would Agatha even want her here? Could she handle knowing the truth of what Rio was?

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the weight of all the unspoken words between them. Agatha took a slow, deep breath, her gaze flicking back to Rio’s. She stepped closer, her hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from Rio’s face. “Stop running,” she said simply. Her voice was low, a whisper that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. “Stay.”

Rio’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She had stared into the void beyond time, held dying stars in her hands, watched entire worlds crumble, but this—this was the hardest thing she’d ever faced. “I don’t want to leave,” she admitted. “But what if there’s something you don’t know about me, Agatha? Something that might change everything?”

Rio hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She was Death, the one who reaped souls, who existed outside the boundaries of time. Would Agatha still look at her the same way if she knew the truth? Would this connection become one-sided if she revealed who she was?

Agatha rolled her eyes in a gentle, loving way, reaching for Rio’s other hand. “There’s a lot I don’t know about you. I mean, all I know is your first name... and that you’re annoying, powerful, and old,” she finished with a smile. “But for some reason, I like you anyway.”

Rio chuckled, the laughter chasing away some of the weight from her chest. Then, swallowing hard, she nodded, as if to convince herself. “I promise I won’t leave,” she said, her voice raw with emotion. “But there are things I can’t explain yet. Things I need you to trust me with.”

Agatha’s gaze softened, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “I trust you,” she whispered.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the flickering fire casting shadows over their faces, creating a sense of warmth and urgency. Agatha could feel her heart pounding as she gazed at Rio, whose usual self-assured smile had returned to her lips. She moved closer, her hands gently cupping Rio’s face as her gaze lingered on the woman’s lips, her breath catching. Rio met her gaze, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Then, slowly, they closed the distance, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft at first—tentative, acknowledging the immensity of the moment.

Then Agatha’s hands found their way into Rio’s hair, pulling her closer with a sudden intensity, and Rio responded in kind, letting herself sink into the feeling. Between kisses, Rio’s playful confidence returned, and she nipped at Agatha’s bottom lip, drawing a surprised, delighted laugh from her. Rio smirked, brushing her fingers along Agatha’s jaw. “I didn’t think I’d miss you this much.”

They melted into each other again, this time faster, more urgent. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together. The room felt warmer, the air charged with something electric and undeniable.

Agatha’s smile was small but genuine. “Just don’t disappear again.”

Rio’s expression wavered, a shadow passing over her features as she thought about the promise she just made. She hadn’t lied—she would always come back. But she knew she’d have to disappear from time to time, to do her job, to be what she was. Would Agatha see it that way? Would she forgive her?

Pushing the doubt aside, Rio brushed a thumb gently across Agatha’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly, sealing the words with another kiss, even as uncertainty coiled tightly in her chest.

Sub-Chapter (18+, NSFW) >

Next Chapter > out tomorrow

#agatha x rio fanfic #agathario #agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha x rio #fanfic #fanfiction #agathario fanfic #agatha all along fanfic #agatha backstory #evanora harkness #agatha all along backstory #agathario fic #rio x agatha #rio vidal x agatha harkness #rio backstory #rio vidal backstory

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manikeri · 15 hours ago

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too rough..

content warming: rough sex, dirty talk, stomach issues (he tore your shit up), breeding, aftercare, little bit of begging, whiny dom! eren, sub! reader, enjoy!

summary: Eren just can’t control himself when he’s inside your pretty pussy! He goes so rough that you have cramps, don��t worry though. Your renny would never ever just leave you like that! Forgive him?

“Heyyy baby…” Eren coos while rubbing your back gently, his weight putting a dent in the bed as he sat next to your cradled body. Your knees to your chest with the blanket over your body. You nudged your body forward a little before wincing at the pain that shot through your tummy.

It was all his fault!! You had the whole day planned out! You were gonna go on a coffee run, go on a target shopping spree, maybe even grab a bite to eat! But nooo…

Don’t get it twisted you love your pretty boy, so much! He just has a problem.. an addiction.. to your pussy. Last night was the 3rd time this week he woke you up in the middle of the night to have sex!!!

I mean.. you weren’t sleeping anyways.. but that’s not the point!!! You were getting there, ok?!

“please don’t be like that.. I said sorry..”

“…”

“really? Silent treatment?”

“…my stomach hurts”

“i know baby, I’m sorry I brought you some aleve and water”

Eren kneeled in front of you as you sat up from your fetal position holding your stomach. You took the pills and drank the water while staring at him.. god he was so pretty

His forearms resting on his knees as his head was tilted to the side, you watched as he brung his tattooed hands up to your things rubbing them slowly. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander off to what happened last night

“fuck! too r-rough ren!” you screamed for the millionth time tonight.

“pussy feels so. fuckin. good. babyyyy… oh my god i love you so much” he whined as he continued fucking himself out in your pretty cunny

You layed your head back down as he give you the most lethal backshots known to man, you tried putting your hand on his abdomen but that didn’t work.. he was saying things like

“shitt.. no, not right now baby. please don’t keep this from me right now”

“please baby please just let me have it. All of it”

“Stop doing that..! I need this so badly, please let me make the both of us feel good baby.”

All you could do was whine along with him! You both were so pathetic. Fucking each other stupid at 1 in the morning. Your eyes rolling back as you bit the blanket. His hips having a mind of their own, his cheeks dusted a baby pink, his eyes furrowed in pleasure, and his mouth hanging open as he watched where you both connected.

You started to throw it back a little on him, you hated seeing him do all the work. You never wanted to be a pillow princess. You love pleasing your man, and man did he love you pleasing him

“shit! you trynna one up me baby?”

“n-no.. just wanna make you feel good”

“makin’ me feel real good baby”

He let out a shaky sigh before grabbing your hips and ramming into you with all his might. You squealed into the blanket as you took his harsh strokes. Eventually you felt a tingly feeling building up in your stomach, Eren knew before you could say anything to him.

“I know baby i feel it, just let it go.. fuck me…”

“want you to cum with me!”

“fuck! You’re driving me crazy y/n… shit im gonna cum, cum with me please baby please”

You came on instant a loud moan leaving your lips as your eyes crossed and squeezed you eyes shut, a loud groan coming immediately after.

All that could be heard were heavy breaths and squelching as eren rode out both of your highs. He finally pulled out and laid down next to you, only to find you already dead asleep. He kissed your forehead before drifting off himself

“if you keep staring at me like that you’re gonna be complaining about your tummy for the rest of the week” he said poking the flesh and giggling after you kick his calf.

“Just jokes beautiful, come on, I got you a surprise” he says getting up and walking to the door before turning around and seeing you still on the bed.

“hey, baby.. im really sorry i went so rough yesterday. You have every right to be angry-”

“im not angry ren.”

“so why aren’t you coming wit-”

“I can’t walk…”

His mouth opens in realization before walking out with explanation, then back in with a bunch of presents. Your favorite drink, snacks, new plushies for your collection. Some bags from your favorite store.

You smiled and held your arms out for him to hug you, he put everything on the bed and walked over to your side of the bed with a smile

“I love you rennie”

“I love you more baby.”

#aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black y/n #x black reader #x black fem reader

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a-most-beloved-fool · 2 days ago

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Vulcan tails! I love giving Vulcans tails. But, because I am a writer more than an artist, I am cursed to think of The Implications™. So, have some headcanons. (i think there was a different one of these not too long ago, too, but i figure more can't possibly hurt!)

Prehensile - it is fully maneuverable and can be used to grasp small-ish objects. It's pretty thin, though, so it can't hold much more than 20 pounds. (even that seems like a stretch to me, with how long and thin they're usually drawn, but Vulcans are stronger than humans, so let's indulge.)

Telepathically sensitive! Not as sensitive as fingers or qui'lari, maybe, but still pretty sensitive. Compatible minds could meld using only tail contact, even if they're not the most telepathically proficient. Most of that sensitivity is concentrated near the tip, but in instances where the tail must be partially amputated for some reason, the telepathic centers have been known to redevelop farther up, on the new tip.

Tails are kept wrapped around the body (like a belt, typically, but there may be different styles of wearing them) the majority of the time. This is partially inspired by fanart, and partially because wrapping the tail around something is a Very Good Way to keep it still through emotions.* (I've seen it suggested that Vulcans would simply amputate tails as infants, but I Do Not agree with that, simply because I think that cutting perfectly functional body parts off of people without their consent is Horrifically Immoral, and also? inherently illogical? Like what do you mean you're chopping off their limb??? what if they want it later? it can't just grow back! wtf??? Cardassians might cut off tails, Vulcans Would Not. You could argue that the tails are usually kept tucked away beneath clothes, though, if you want an excuse for "no visible tail". You could also maybe argue that those who completed kolinahr would get their tails removed as a symbol of the removal of emotions, but tbh i don't like that much, either.)

I think I saw a different headcanon list somewhere on here which suggested that very young Vulcans might hang onto the tails of their parents, and I do like that concept. It's very cute. So, yes, tails are often used when caring for small children. They probably offer some kind of emotional support to Vulcans young enough to not have developed their controls yet. A telepathic pacifier or comfort blanket, if you will.

The V'Tosh Ka'tur (Vulcans without logic, like Sybok) advocate for tails to be freed. Sometimes Vulcan punks will experiment with their tails loosed as a form of rebellion. There's a whole underground movement about it.

There's an ongoing debate about whether tail use should be allowed during certain sports and gymnastics. It does help with balance, for example, but critics suggest that it's unfair to allow tail use when some Vulcan athletes will still refuse to use their tails for spiritual/Surakian reasons. They say it offers an unfair advantage to those who use tails, at the cost of more conservative Vulcans. Others say that it's illogical to ban the use of a natural body part that they almost universally possess.

(speaking of "universally possess" - I'm toying with the idea that the tail kind of begins as an umbilical cord? so before the child is born, it connects the infant to its mother, and after it's born, the cord develops bones and cartilage and transforms into another limb. idk how much sense that makes, but i like the concept.)

Because Vulcans keep their tails so contained, sometimes aliens don't realize that they have them. They assume that they're just an unusual belt that Vulcans are particularly fond of. More than one has been utterly shocked to see this supposed article of clothing twitch on its own! (sometimes, particularly young or rebellious Vulcans will deliberately play this prank on people.)

The VSA bans all tail use for tasks in their laboratories (both chemical and engineering) after a number of unfortunate accidents involving dropped specimens and tails caught in machinery. Space-OSHA is very strict about tail PPE. Tails must stay beneath the lab coat at all times!

Pre-Surakian theater often had blocking instructions for tails written into the script. The first time a modern troupe put on one of these productions, the controversy became the talk of the planet for weeks.

Similarly, pre-Surakian paintings and sculpture had a strong emphasis on tails. However, the tails were particularly prone to breaking off of the sculptures (they are very thin, after all), and large amounts of academic discussion have gone into attempting to restore the tails accurately. Unfortunately, it can be difficult to tell what position the tails would have been held in. There are only a handful of sculptures which have remained completely intact, and their tail positions are not consistent enough to provide a template, so many statue recreations are forced to guess. Some academics also suggest that there was a movement nearly 1000 years previously to deliberately remove tails from statues and destroy them!

At least one (non-percussive) musical instrument exists which requires use of a tail to play it properly.

Underground Vulcan clubs often feature risque tail dancing. This is less controversial than the plays, simply because it's not officially sanctioned and is considered to be a "display of skill and sensuality" rather than an expression of emotions.

*this has been haunting me with another silly spirk fic idea I don't yet have time to write, which is below:

Spock's tail, which is usually kept wrapped around his waist (save for when it's in use holding things), gets badly injured during a landing party. Some of the bones are broken, and because the bones are small and finicky, a good chunk of the healing needs to be done via a good old fashioned cast.

Meaning: Spock can no longer keep it wrapped around his waist.

And, having a free-hanging tail for the first time since he was three-ish, Spock learns that he is Very Bad at keeping tabs on it. Whenever he's focused on any sort of project, his tail has a mind of its own, and, naturally, it reacts most strongly to Kirk. Sometimes it wags when Kirk smiles at him, and nearly every time Kirk is close enough to him, it drifts over to touch him. They do reports together one night, and Spock's tail finds its way to Kirk's lap, and Spock, too focused on his work, doesn't notice that it's there for over an hour. Kirk does notice, and deliberately doesn't draw Spock's attention to it.

Kirk (pining) is trying his very best to not read too much into things (and is failing. oh boy does he want it to Mean Something). Spock (also pining) is just about at his wit's end trying to figure out how to control his wayward tail (because he doesn't want people to realize that it Means Something). Everyone else just finds the whole situation very cute (because they all knew from the start that the emotions were there).

#yes the 'removing tails from statues' bit is a reference to people chopping the dicks off of greek statues lmao #once again posts getting longer than intended. whoops. the tail lore got away from me.#i haven't yet decided on the specs of the tail musical instrument but i'm rotating it in my mind #it's not a drum tho. that's too easy. but i can't decide if it should be strings or wind.#and you might ask “how would a tail be used on a wind instrument?” but there are notes on recorder that can only be played #if you cover a hole on the bottom of it with your leg. so. where there's a will there's a way.#star trek #tos #star trek the original series #vulcans #vulcan biology #vulcan tails #spock #spirk #james t kirk

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something-tofightfor · 3 days ago

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Liminality: Part 13

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 9,755

Rating: R - the general themes and tones of the previous chapters carry over, but there's no outright violence or sex.

Summary: There's no denying it anymore - something has to be done to stop the Florida Chaos wolf. Who it is only makes things more difficult, but you're surprised as just how completely Frankie's friends rally to help him ... and you.

And they all know the cost.

Author’s note:

This story is actually beginning to wind down, believe it or not. I've got the remaining parts outlined, and they just need to be written ... I'm thinking maybe two more + an epilogue after this one? We'll see.

Thank you for being patient, and for sticking around. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wanna talk about Wolf Frankie or his friends? My inbox is always open.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

Will got to Frankie’s less than thirty minutes later, the sound of his bike audible well before he came into view.

Frankie was pacing around the living room, one hand rubbing at the side of his head and tugging his hair into further disarray by the moment. You were curled up on his couch with a blanket wrapped around you, eyes unfocused and staring across the room at the wall next to his TV.

Neither of you had spoken much after his declaration in the truck, and you knew that you were both trying to process the revelation that Tom was, in fact, the Chaos wolf. That means he was bitten after Colombia. That means that he somehow found someone in the Chaos line. That means -

“It’s just me.” Will’s voice came from the kitchen, and both you and Frankie turned in that direction, even though he didn’t stop moving his feet. “Bike’s in the garage, just in case.” He stepped into the room, his eyes moving between you and his friend, and then lingering on Frankie. “You alright?”

Frankie finally stopped moving, spinning to face Will and lashing out with one arm, pointing directly at you. “No, I am not fucking alright. We’ve been giving him insider fucking information for weeks now, and because I didn’t figure it out, he almost fucking killed my -”

“Frankie.” You leaned forward, putting both feet onto the floor. “This isn’t your fault.” You knew it would take more than your words to get through to him, but you still needed to try. “You didn’t ask for any of this, and you didn’t know, so you can’t blame yourself.”

Will crossed his arms, taking a deep breath as he leaned against the doorframe and watched the two of you as Frankie started again. “If I hadn’t been bitten in South America, he wouldn’t even have known the fucking wolves existed. And he wouldn’t have been looking for another one, which means that he wouldn’t have -”

“How do you know that one of them didn’t just find him?” Will cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes. “His bite could have been just as accidental as yours was, ‘Fish.” You understood his reasoning. Will was trying to explain what had happened in a way that didn’t put all the blame on Tom. And they’ve known each other for so long and been through so much together, it makes sense. I’d do the same thing for someone I thought I knew. “Think about all those trips he took with Molly and Tessa. Could have been on any one of them.” He turned his attention to you. “You said the Chaos line has been a problem for a long time, right? Are they only in the States, or are there more of ‘em in other places?”

“They’re all over.” You rubbed the space between your brows with two fingertips. “And my family’s research confirms that it’s been that way for as far as they’ve been able to go back.” Will nodded, breathing slowly. “How long… you said Tom stopped coming out with you for the moon about a year ago, right?” They both nodded. “So whatever happened to him, happened recently.”

“We didn’t notice anything.” Will stepped closer and then dropped down into the armchair, running a hand over his beard. “We were all so fucking busy with our own shit that we didn’t notice a change in him, and that’s…. Fuck. That’s on all of us.”

“You might not have.” Readjusting the blanket, you bit your lip and shook your head. “Is Frankie much different, aside from that period right around the moon?” Both of them said no, and so you went on. “So it makes sense if Tom had someone helping him learn everything. The Chaos line is only visible when they’re at their worst. They’ve mastered blending in because it’s a survival technique for them. If Tom had the help of one or more of them, then … you wouldn’t have noticed anything because you shouldn’t have.”

“You called it.” Frankie stepped closer to you and then sat down on the cushion to your right. “At the bar that night when he winced? But I said you were wong. And then he fucking … I should have listened. I should have believed you.”

It wasn’t worth trying to convince him that you weren’t mad - or that he shouldn’t have been upset with himself. But I appreciate him admitting that.

“What are the odds, though?” Reaching over, you took his hand. “Frankie, if he got bitten a year ago, and these attacks have been going on for months, then he started attacking people pretty much right away. And that means that he knew what to do and how to manage it. And if he knew how to manage it, then he knew how to hide it. You weren’t supposed to notice anything.”

“So you don’t think that it was an accidental bite.”

“No.” You looked away and at Will, unblinking. “I don’t.” His jaw twitched, eyes going hard. “Because if it was an accidental bite, he’d be in the same boat as Frankie and know nothing. You guys already have a routine in place to handle one transformation, so adding another wolf into the mix every month wouldn’t have changed much, especially if he told you that he got bitten while looking for answers.” You finally looked at Frankie, holding his gaze. “He deliberately kept it from you. He’s deliberately hurting people. I don’t know him the way you do, so I have no idea why. Based on what I do know, though? He’s … what they’d want. I’ve been looking for this fucking line of wolves for years. It fits their pattern.”

“But what can he give them?” Will leaned closer, head tilted. “Molly’s not having another kid. He’s working alone. And none of the people that he’s attacked and bitten have survived, so it’s not like he’s furthering the line.”

“No one survived that we know of.” Frankie lowered his head, covering his face with both hands. “They found bodies of people that didn’t, and Alec made it to the hospital but wasn’t bitten. If he’s bitten anyone and they’ve lived? He might have pointed ‘em in the direction of whoever he answers to so they could get help.” He was right, and that was something that you’d never thought of. And I should have. “And Tom’s fucking loaded, Ironhead. We all are. He can offer them money.”

You gasped in surprise, but as soon as he said it, you knew Frankie was right about that, too. Even a line of wolves that went back hundreds of years would have been motivated by money - especially in the amount that Tom could have offered. “I need a drink.” You pushed to your feet, heading for the kitchen. “Either of you want anything?”

They both said no, and so you entered the room alone, immediately going for Frankie’s liquor cabinet.

It would have been easy for you to spiral - to stand there and dwell on the fact that in the span of only a few months, you’d met and fallen for a wolf and found a separate link to the line of wolves your family had been after for years. Adding in the fact that the second wolf had actually attacked you - purposely - was another concern. But it’s not that separate.

Grabbing a bottle at random and then a glass, you poured yourself a strong drink and then knocked it back in two swallows, wincing at the burn. It wouldn’t solve your problems - nor would it change the way you felt, but it would calm you. And then I can try to calm him.

Frankie and Will were talking quietly, but both of them turned their attention to you when you walked back into the room. Frankie’s eyes brightened briefly, and Will gave you a single nod. “Better?”

“Not better, but … I needed that.” You dropped back down onto the couch but instead of letting you sit next to him, Frankie yanked you closer, both arms wrapping around you. “Frankie, what -”

“He was alone with you twice tonight. After he did what he did. He was alone with you, and he was questioning you, and I just … fuck, it makes me mad.” Frankie laughed, the sound bitter. “He did it right under my fucking nose. All of this. And he had the goddamn balls to tease you with that wine. It wasn’t just about me, he was telling you that he’s a wolf, too.” You replayed the conversations, thinking hard about Tom’s demeanor. He’s good at hiding shit, I’ll give him that.

“He’s getting bolder.” You turned your head and kissed Frankie’s cheek. “He attacked me even though he knew Will was there and that I’d have access to a gun with silver bullets. He invited us over. He’s actively planning things with you guys, and -”

“He’s going out to clean up the RV site.” Will swore, lowering his head as he whipped it back and forth. “I already did it, but he’s going to make sure there’s no fucking trace of himself there, at least in wolf form. And he’ll know which way he went in the woods to get rid of that trail, too.” Oh shit, that’s true. “And we fucking just … let him walk right in and do it.” Wait a minute.

“Will.” You swallowed hard and then bit your lip. “How did you and Frankie come up with the idea to try and get him to bleed tonight?” That question actually got Will to smile, the blonde sitting back down on the chair and angling his body toward yours. “Something tipped you off. Why tonight? What was it?”

“It was you.” He grinned, gesturing with one hand. “When you showed that video and I watched it again, I noticed something.” What? What could possibly have made you consider this? “The other night, when you and ‘Fish were in that clearing, and you saw him for the first time?” He paused, sticking his tongue unto his cheek. “You pointed out his tattoo in the pattern of his fur. The tattoo on his hand’s still there when he changes, but the one on his arm isn’t.”

“And when you showed us the video, Will noticed something on the wolf.” Frankie mumbled your name, and then leaned down to kiss the top of your shoulder. “Something on his shoulder.” Seriously?

“I recognized the shape of it. And it was just too convenient. So when ‘Fish and I went inside to get beers, I told him what I thought I saw, and we decided to do somethin’ about it.” He paused, looking down at the ground and taking a deep breath. “We didn’t know if I’d be able to do it tonight, but we figured it was good to try because of his sense of smell.” It was a good call - his heightened senses would have allowed Frankie to smell the wolf in Tom’s blood, which might not have been the case even a few days later. “But then you guys left, and I thought we were fucked, but -”

“But I had to take a leak.” Frankie laughed again, rolling his eyes. “And so it all worked out.”

Tom hadn’t seemed like he knew what was happening while he was attempting to clean his hand off, but there was no way to be sure. “You’re going to have to act normal for the next few weeks with him.” You closed your eyes. “And I’m going to, too.”

“You’re not going fucking near him for the next few weeks.” Frankie’s voice was little more than a growl, and Will agreed moments later. “In fact, I don’t want you to stay in that house you’re renting, either. He knows you’re there. He might have keys. And if he’s suspicious, he -”

“He might get more suspicious if she’s suddenly here all the time instead of there, too.” Will wet his lips, his eyes moving between the two of you. “It’s too quick.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Frankie stood again, crossing his arms and beginning to pace between the couch and Will’s chair. “And we told everyone she’s staying in Florida because we’re together, so why wouldn’t she move in?”

“Because she hasn’t even met your kid yet. ‘Fish.” Frankie stopped moving and you straightened up, your mouth falling open. He’s right. “And if there’s one thing Tom knows about you, it’s that your daughter’s the most important person in your life. You wouldn’t move a woman in after a couple months without having her meet Carmen and Becca first.”

“He’s right, Frankie.” You looked up at him, defeated. “Me moving in now would look bad. And I don’t want to live with you because we’re scared, I want it to be because you want me here.”

“I want you here.” He turned to face you, letting his arms drop to his side. “You think I don’t? After wh -”

“No. But I want you to ask me to move in when we’re not dealing with this anymore.” You held your hand out to him and he took it, his fingers sliding between yours. “We’ve already skipped a boatload of steps in this relationship, I don’t want something so important to be another.”

It was a conversation you didn’t want to have in front of Will, but at least beginning it was necessary. Because we can’t get ahead of ourselves. We have to be smart about this. We have to be smarter than him. “It’s gotta be business as usual, ‘Fish. For all of us. And we’ve got a leg up, because he doesn’t know she’s looking for wolves, and because he doesn’t know we know he is one.”

“We need to tell Benny and Pope.” Frankie let go of your hand, turning back to look at Will. “We need to let them know what we’re up against.”

“We’ve gotta do this the right way, Frankie.” Will leaned forward, glancing at you before he looked up at his friend. “Otherwise he’s going to know something’s up. We have weeks until the moon, and it’s not like he can change between the -”

“About that.” Frankie’s hand was moving back and forth, fingers loosely curled. “He might be able to. I can, and if he’s been learning from people that know what the fuck they’re doing, we’ve got to assume he can, too.”

“Fuck.” You used one hand to cover your mouth, fear starting to creep back in. If he can change at will, he could get into my apartment and … there’d be nothing to tie him to it. Just animal fur. You leaned back against the corner of the couch, drawing your uninjured leg up toward your chest. “He was fishing tonight. He was asking me questions and it felt … I don’t know. It felt different. He’s always kind of smug, but tonight felt like he wasn’t trying to hide it.”

“He gets like that when he feels like he’s winning.” Will dragged a hand through his hair, shaking his head back and forth. “Cocky. But he makes mistakes, like he did in South America.”

“He made a lot of fucking mistakes in South America.” Frankie laughed, and it was the first time that night that it sounded almost genuine. “We all did. But you’re right. Because when Tom thinks he’s untouchable, it makes him real fucking reckless.”

“This is gonna kill my brother.” Will stood, his sigh audible. “He idolizes Tom. And there’s no real way to prove it’s the truth until we can catch him on a full moon, so -”

“Is there really a realtor conference in Orlando next month?” You mumbled the question, reaching into your pocket for your phone. “Because if there is, that might be how he met the Chaos wolf in the first place. But if it’s over a full moon, that means he’s going to turn in Orlando, and I know nothing about that city to even begin to....” You did a Google search, eyes on your screen. Well, he wasn’t lying about that. “There is one.” You nodded, scanning the text. “And it’s the right dates.”

“Might just be cover,” Will moved away from his chair and toward the doorway, pausing and turning his head back to look over his shoulder. “To give him a reason to be gone for a few days. Molly won’t ask questions if he says he’s doing something for work.” He reached up, resting his hand on the doorframe. “One of us should follow him there. And since I was with you this last time, ‘Fish, it should be me.”

Part of you understood that reasoning. It was logical. It wouldn’t raise suspicions if Will bowed out of going with you and Frankie, since he’d done his part the previous month. But another part of you felt terror at the thought that Will wouldn’t be there with you. He saved me once. I trust him. I trust him with my life. “That’s a good idea.” Frankie nodded, watching his friend closely. “But we’ll need to figure this shit out with Benny and Pope, too.”

Will agreed, eyes moving between you and Frankie before he closed them, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t going to end well for Tom, is it.”

“No.” Frankie stood, shaking his head slowly. “It isn’t.” Will’s response wasn’t audible, but you did see his jaw lock, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he let out a slow breath. “There’s no way it can.” He and Frankie shared another look, and you saw the resignation in his eyes, his shoulders rising and falling in slow motion. I get it. It’s got to be so hard for them to think about that.

Will turned his attention back to you, lips turning upward into a sad smile. “I hope you get some sleep tonight. Both of you.”

“You too, Will.” You set your phone down, leaning back. “Get home safe, alright?” He assured you he would, and then he and Frankie left the room, heading for the front door. You could hear them talking, but before too long, Frankie reappeared in the doorway, his posture much looser than it had been. “We need to go to sleep, Frankie. You have to be up to fly tomorrow.”

“I do.” He walked back over to where you sat, sitting down on the table in front of you and then leaning in. “I need you to look at me.” You did, lifting your chin enough that you could meet his eyes. Frankie reached up, sliding his fingers along the column of your neck so that he could curl them gently around the nape. “What happens to Tom isn’t just because of what he did to you. It’s not going to be your fault, that I take care of this. It’s his own.”

“I know.” You moved your thumb over his stubbled cheek, nodding. “He made his choices.” Frankie agreed, leaning into your touch. “We need to talk about what happened right before Will left, but it’s not a good -”

“After we deal with Tom, I want you to meet Becca and Carmen.” He stiffened slightly, and you could see fear in his eyes. “Will’s right. I can’t ask you to come live here before that happens, but …” He sighed, closing his eyes. “We’re going to go back and forth between your place and this one for the next couple weeks. Spend as much time as you can with one of us or at Ironhead’s or even at Pope’s with Yova. And if Tom -”

“I know, ‘Fish.” You closed the distance between you, pressing your forehead to his. “And I know that you do want me here. I just want to make sure that you’ll still want that when this is over.” And you’ve had to kill someone you thought you could trust. “I don’t doubt your feelings for me, but this isn’t a normal situation.”

“It’s not.” He squared his shoulders, nodding. “But we both … we both felt this before we knew anything else was going on, so that has to mean something.” You agreed, and it made you feel better, but only marginally. “First time I met you, remember?” You smiled, eyes dropping as your cheeks heated. Yeah, I remember. He stood up, holding both hands out to you. “Now come to bed with me so that I can wake up and fly tourists over the Bay tomorrow.”

That made you laugh, and he squeezed your hands tightly when you took them, helping you to your feet. “I was one of those tourists when I first got here.”

“You were.” You headed down the hallway, Frankie walking backwards so he didn’t have to look away. “And I looked forward to every flight with you.” Arching a brow, you watched as he grinned. “Still do, if you ever want to go back up.” I do. I really do.

The two of you got ready for bed quickly, and when you stood by the side of his bed, Frankie stopped you before you could grab the bottom hem of your shirt. Instead of letting you remove it, he did it for you, tossing it to the side and then reaching to unhook your bra. Once that was gone, Frankie’s hands skimmed over your skin, his eyes following the movement.

“Bed, Francisco.” You spoke quietly, reaching out to press a hand against his abdomen. “It’s late and we’re both exhausted.” He didn’t fight it, instead nodding as you climbed into bed and waited for him to follow.

He held you close after you both got comfortable, but you could tell that he was still tense. I am too, though. This is … more complicated than I thought.

Tom actually being the Chaos wolf was something that you hadn’t expected - and you knew that none of the other guys had, either. It complicated things, but more importantly it forced their hand in a way that you knew would be difficult for them to handle emotionally. And it has to be done soon, which makes it worse.

Tom would fight back, that much was certain, based on the way he’d acted in the previous months. The real question was whether or not Frankie and the others having an advantage of knowing would be enough for them to win. It has to be. Because I can’t lose him. I won’t.

—

It took a few days to get everyone together in the same room, but that was only because it had to be done in a way that Tom was invited - but couldn’t make it.

Will handled that, sending out a group message asking when the guys wanted to meet for drinks at the bar. When Tom said he had no time that week because of late showings and plans with Molly, it became easier to choose a day and a location.

That turned out to be Pope’s place, which meant Yovanna would be there. But she knows. So maybe this is the right time for her to tell everyone. You were nervous as you and Frankie drove there after he’d finished his flights, but despite the conversation that awaited you both, he kept it together.

Will’s truck was parked in front of the house when you pulled up, and when you walked around the house and into the back yard, you saw that Benny was there, too, both of them sitting in chairs and holding drinks as they talked to Pope and Yovanna.

You caught the look she gave you as you headed to where they were, her eyes dropping to your leg and then rising - first back to meet your eyes and then drifting to Frankie’s face, her lips twisting into a frown. You shook your head, mouthing the word no, and her eyes widened before she reached over, taking Pope’s hand and squeezing it.

The two of you joined the group, sliding into open seats and saying hello as Benny slid drinks across the tabletop to you. Frankie took his and opened it, downing a long swig before turning his attention to Will. You watched as they shared a look, the blonde’s throat working as he swallowed and then gave Frankie a nod.

“Hey.” Will closed his eyes, and then let out a deep breath. “There’s something we need to talk about, but I don’t know if Yova’s going to want to hear it.” You weren’t surprised that he’d called the woman out directly - that was just how Will was - but you were surprised when she pulled her hand free from Pope’s and moved to sit next to you, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I want to hear it.” She nodded, looking between the other men and then finally at Pope, who was watching her with a look of amusement on his face. “Especially if it has to do with the wolves.”

“You knew?” Benny leaned in, his eyes widening. “This whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I did not want to.” She shrugged, scoffing. “What would it have helped? Me telling you stories? I have never met one before Francisco. But I knew there were others. I knew another one was here and it was hurting people.” She leaned forward and looked past you at Frankie. “And I knew it could not be you because you are not that kind of man.”

There was trust in her eyes - her voice strong and even as she spoke. “Last thing I want to do is hurt people.” Frankie cleared his throat. “But yeah, that is … what this is about.” Pope sat down, too, joining the rest of you at the table.

It was silent for long seconds, and you didn’t know who was going to speak first. But it should be me. “I’ve been lying to all of you.” Frankie stiffened next to you, but you ignored it. “I didn’t come here to write about Tampa. I came here looking for werewolves.” It helped that only Benny and Yovanna had been in the dark about it, but you were thankful that everyone at the table stayed quiet and let you go on. “Frankie figured it out because my research wasn’t hidden when he showed up at my apartment one morning. I told Will after I got attacked last week.”

“You were looking for ‘Fish?” Benny leaned in, eyes narrowed. “How’d you know it was him?”

“No, I didn’t know it was him. That all just … it’s a weird fucking coincidence. And even before he told me what he is, I still didn’t think it was him that I was looking for. But as soon as he did, I realized that there were two wolves. And the other one was the one I’ve been trying to find.”

“Why are you looking for wolves?” Pope cut in, scratching at the back of his neck. He’s going along with it. “What do you want from them?”

That started your story, and you repeated it for what you hoped was the last time. Everyone listened to you without interrupting, and Frankie’s hand rested on your thigh the entire time, reminding you that he was there. Like I could forget.

“And since my cousin’s out of this for good now, I’ve got … I’ve got to finish this. Even if it’s the last thing I do with hunting, taking care of this wolf?” You looked between them, locking your gaze on Benny’s face. “I’ll make it right for Alec. And I think … I think that’ll be enough for me.”

“Will it, though?” Pope swallowed, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “You had no plans to stop before, so why would this be enough now? It’s one wolf. You’re not going to eliminate the whole line. You never were.”

“No.” Laughing, you rubbed at the space between your eyes. “I wasn’t. But this is what I knew. It was what I thought I had to do to be considered a contributing member of my family. Even if I never found anything, at least I tried.”

“But you did find something.” Yovanna reached over, taking your hand and linking her fingers with yours. “You found Francisco and you found all of us. You found out that it is possible to be with a wolf and not need to … hunt it.” She took a breath. “But you also found the other one. And it …” Her gaze dropped and then rose, her eyes wide. “You know who it is. You know who the other wolf is and that’s why we’re here tonight.”

“Yes.” Your heart was pounding, but you knew that if you looked at Frankie, you’d break down - and so you didn’t. You looked at Pope first, and then at Benny before finally meeting Will’s eyes. He nodded slowly, raising the tips of his fingers from where they rested against the tabletop to tell you to relax. “We do know who it is.”

“Tom should be here for this.” Pope leaned in, eyeing you. “He’s part of this, and he was there when ‘Fish got bitten.”

“There’s a reason he’s not here, Pope.” Frankie’s voice was low, and when you finally turned your head to look at him, you saw that his shoulders were straight, eyes bright. “There’s a reason it’s just us, and -”

“Bullshit.” Benny cut in, making a fist and knocking it against the table. “Will asked him to be here. I saw the fucking texts. Why -”

“We picked tonight because Tom couldn’t make it.” Will crossed his arms again and leaned back in his chair. “Tom is the other wolf, Benny. ‘Fish and I tested it the other night, and it’s him. He’s been attacking people for the last couple months. He attacked her cousin. He attacked her. He doesn’t give a shit who he hurts, and he’s been lying to us for a fucking year.”

No one replied right away, and as Will’s voice trailed off, you risked a look over at Benny, watching as his face contorted between emotions. He’s hurt. He’s hurt and sad and… “How?” He licked his lips and then stood up from the table, pushing his chair back. “How did it happen? How do you know?”

“I smelled his blood the other night, and it was the same as what was all over the clearing.” Frankie sniffed. “I have no idea how he found someone to bite him, but I’m sure as fuck going to ask next month.”

“How? He’s got that conference. He won’t be -”

“I think it’s a cover.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “There is a conference, but I think that just got him out of having to come and stay with Frankie next moon. I think … I think he’s going to come back to the clearing and try to finish what he started because he knows Frankie will be miles away and I’ll be there.”

“That’s dumb as shit, though.” Pope’s eyes were narrow. “He knows there’s always someone there with Frankie. He knows that we wouldn’t dream of letting you go there by yourself next month. He has to know that ‘Fish wouldn’t go far, especially if he thought there was a chance the other wolf would come back.”

“He’s too cocky.” Will spoke up, frowning as he shook his head. “He’ll think that -”

“He is an asshole.” Yovanna spat the words out, standing up and shoving her chair backwards before slapping her hand down on the table. “I have never liked him, not even meeting him that first time. And since I have come here?” She snarled, waving her hand. “He is mean and nasty and I have never trusted him, but I put up with him because he was your friend.” She pointed at Benny. “Your own brother is telling you this is the truth and you don’t believe him? Why would he lie? Why would Francisco lie when that lie means Tom has to go?”

The rest of you were silent as her words sunk in, and for a few moments, you were in awe of the woman. She barely knew you, and had no real reason to stand up for you in the way she was. But she loves Pope. And if Tom is willing to do this to someone Frankie cares about, she’s in just as much danger.

“Are you sure?” Benny’s eyes were narrowed as he stared at you and then at Frankie. “I mean positive, ‘Fish? Because if what you’re saying is true, then we have to -” Will groaned, covering his face with both hands.

“Watch the video, man. The spot on the wolf’s shoulder is in the same damn place as Tom’s tattoo. ‘Fish smelled the blood. Tom’s been real fuckin’ shady about helping out for a long time now. It fits. We didn’t see it because we didn’t want to, but c’mon, Benny.”

“I’m sure, Benjamin.” Frankie’s head moved from side to side, and you heard the fatigue in his voice. “I don’t want it to be true, but it is.” It was your turn to support him then, and you reached over to settle your hand on his forearm, fingers closing around it. I know you don’t want it to be true. I don’t either. “And I’m not asking for your help with this. I understand if you don’t want to be involved with what’s got to happen, but I need you to at least … not give anything away for the next couple weeks.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to -” Pope rubbed at his eyes. “‘Fish, man. C’mon. He’s not stupid. He’s going to know something’s up the second one of us talks to him.”

“No he won’t.” Benny sniffed, dropping back into his seat and hanging his head. “Because this is the shit we were trained to do. We’ve got to put our emotions to the side and treat this like any of the fucking bullshit missions we went on.” You felt relief - despite his closeness to Frankie, and the friendliness Benny had shown you while you were together, you figured that he would have been more difficult to convince. “This isn’t Tom. This is fucking Lorea all over again. He’s dangerous and he’s hurting people, and we need to stop him.”

“So we’re just going to kill him?” Pope laughed, his expression incredulous. “Just kill our friend without giving him a chance to explain? How does that make us any better than any of the people we went after in uniform? How does it make us any better than him?”

“This is what he’s done to people, Pope.” You pulled out your phone and navigated to the hidden folder of photos that contained your research on the Florida Chaos wolf. “This is what he’s done to the people he’s killed. This is what he did to Alec. This is what he did to me.” You slid the phone over the table at him and then pushed your chair back, lifting your leg and swinging it upward and onto the table before ripping the bandage off of it.

You heard Benny’s gasp and Yovanna’s reaction - something muttered in Spanish that was muffled by the way her hand covered her mouth. You saw Will’s wince, even though he’d seen the fresh wound. It was beginning to heal, and though it looked better than it had days earlier, it was still red and swollen and somewhat raw around the edges, the scabbing thick.

“She’s going to have that reminder for the rest of her fucking life, Pope. You saw the video. You watched him attack her. He didn’t flinch. There was no hesitation.” Frankie’s hand moved to touch your ankle, the tips of his fingers gliding up your leg, though he avoided the wound. “We aren’t going to do anything. I won’t ask you to be a part of this, but I need you to know why I’m going to -”

“Frankie.” Pope darkened the screen of your phone and then pushed it back toward you. “There’s no fucking way you’re doing this yourself.” Your breath left you in a whoosh of relief, and as you put your foot back on the ground and closed your eyes, shoulders slumping. “It’s just a lot to take in, y’know?”

“I know.” He cleared his throat, reaching up to take his hat off and toss it onto the table. “But we can’t let him keep going, and you all know it. He’s not going to stop. So I have to stop him, because I’m the only one who can.”

“And what if you can’t?” It wasn’t unkind, and it was the first time Will had questioned Frankie - which surprised you. “He’s bigger than you as a wolf. He’s mean. You’ve tried real hard to hide that part of yourself during the moon, and he hasn’t.”

“That’s my advantage. He’s never seen me as a wolf protecting someone I love.” Frankie paused and said your name, waiting for you to look over at him before he continued. When he spoke again, you heard an edge to his voice that had never been there before - and it chilled you to the bone. “But that’ll be the last thing he ever sees.”

—

Over the next few days, everything changed - and at the same time, nothing changed.

You and Frankie continued your routine of spending nights together, alternating between your apartment and his house. While he was at work, you kept up with your research, using what you already knew about the wolves and adding information about Tom straight from Frankie’s photo albums and anything that the others told you - or that you could find on social media.

You were determined to find the same link that Tom had to the other wolves, because that would mean more of an understanding about the way the Chaos wolves worked - and recruited. But what am I going to do with that? After this, I’m… I’m done.

That was another thing that you’d thought long and hard about, both while Frankie was beside you and when you were apart. You’d told him that you’d consider ending your search for the Chaos wolves after Florida, but the truth was that you’d known for a long time that what you were doing was a fool’s errand. I just had no real reason to stop.

But Frankie was a reason. Will and Benny and Pope and Yovanna were reasons. Carmen was a reason. You’d never be able to eliminate the Chaos line in its entirety, but removing Tom from the equation would balance the scales for your family somewhat by getting payback for causing Alec’s injury - and for yours.

It probably wasn’t the route that prior generations of your family had imagined, but it would be enough. Enough for me, anyway. Enough to keep us safe.

Though the assumption was likely foolish, you had no doubts that Frankie would handle Tom - with or without the help of his friends. You trusted that he would do whatever was necessary to keep his daughter safe, which meant tapping into a part of himself that he’d never allowed to the surface before. But it’s not just for Carmen, it’s … to protect me, too.

You kept up your routine and so did Frankie, his scheduled flights going off without a hitch until two forecasted rainy days in a row thanks to a tropical storm grounded everything. It was during those days that he decided to drive up to see Carmen and Becca, which took a little convincing on your end. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with his daughter, but Frankie was very against leaving you alone for such a long period of time.

He’d only agreed after you promised to find some way to keep yourself occupied for the time he was gone that didn’t involve you staying in Tampa. It seemed like overkill, but when you saw the look in Frankie’s eyes as he made the request, you realized that it was nonnegotiable.

So the night before he was set to leave, and you were scheduled to check into a bed and breakfast in Punta Gorda, the two of you headed to Ironhead’s just to keep up appearances.

It was busier than usual, since thanks to the rain, sitting on most of the outdoor patios was out of the question. But you still managed to find an open booth, both of you sliding into it as you lowered the hoods on the jackets you wore.

There were drinks placed in front of you moments later, and when you looked up, you found Benny’s smiling face, the blonde nodding at you before he turned his head to look at Frankie. “Hey, you two.”

“Benjamin.” Frankie reached for his drink, lifting the glass. “Busy in here tonight.”

“Sure as fuck is. It always gets like this when it rains, but that forecast’s got a lot of the tourists worried, so…” He shrugged. “I’m not gonna complain and neither are my bartenders.” You laughed, settling back against the cushion as he said goodbye and headed back for the bar.

“You excited, Francisco?” You sipped your drink, locking eyes with him. “Two days with Carmen?”

“I always am.” The look in his eyes softened, something that hadn’t happened often in the previous few days. “She wants to go to the park, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to because of the rain.”

“You’ll figure it out.” He nodded, his gaze leaving your face and sweeping over the busy bar. “Should I be worried about storm surge or anything down there? I don’t want to get stuck because of flooding, or -”

“Nah.” He sipped his drink again, shaking his head. “Storm’s tracking north. You might get a little flooding and some wind, but you’ll be alright.” He met your eyes again and winked, one side of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “You can trust me, I’m a pilot. I know weather.”

You laughed at that, lowering your head. For a few seconds, it was like things were normal between you, and that night at the bar was just a night out with Frankie. Maybe it will be soon. Maybe we can have … When you looked up, your laughter stopped as you saw who was standing in the crowd beside the bar. Oh, shit.

You leaned forward, reaching over the table to take his hands. “Frankie.” He stiffened, shoulders going rigid. “You have to stay calm, alright? Molly and Tom are here, and -”

“That fuck can’t just -”

“He can.” You squeezed his hands, wetting your lips and trying to stay calm yourself. “We know nothing, Frankie. We have to make him believe it.” It was a pep talk for him as much as it was one for you - and you were uncertain that you could make your own words reality. “There are too many people here. Too many innocent people, and …” You trailed off when he lifted your joined hands and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before he let go and reached for his drink again, downing the remainder in one long swig.

“I’m good.” He nodded, shoulders relaxing. “I’m fucking peachy.”

You wondered if maybe, with the crowd, Tom wouldn’t see where the two of you were sitting. A few seconds later, you understood that that wouldn’t be the case. He caught your eye, his brows rising before he leaned over to speak into Molly’s ear, one hand lifting to point in your direction. “They’re coming over, Frankie. It -”

“Hey, you two.” Your blood went cold at the friendly tone of his voice, but you forced yourself to look up at where they stood, eyeing Tom as he slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Busy in here tonight, isn’t it?”

“We were going to have dinner on a patio, but with the rain, everything’s closed and …” Molly rolled her eyes, drawing your attention. “We ended up here, which isn’t bad, but …”

“D… do you want to sit?” You forced the words out, surprised to hear that your voice was steady, even though your heart was racing. “Frankie can scoot over here, and you can sit on that side.” Tom looked stunned at the offer, and so did Frankie, but before you could say anything else, he slid to the end of the booth and then stood, moving to where you sat.

He got as close to you as he could, his arm draped over your shoulders, and as Tom and Molly took seats across from you, you realized that Frankie’s arm was positioned so that his scar was visible. It’s like he’s reminding Tom what he is but in a way that seems … oh, Francisco. You reached over, laying your hand on his thigh and squeezing.

“So.” Tom sipped his drink, his eyes on you. “You get to be here for a tropical storm. You gonna ride it out at ‘Fish’s place, or -”

“Actually.” Frankie cocked his head to the side. “Actually, I’m going to see Carmen for a couple days. Can’t fly with the wind and rain, so it seemed like a good time.” Tom’s eyes widened, and as Molly interjected, telling Frankie how great it was that he’d get to spend time with his daughter, he stared at you. You wondered if, like Frankie, Tom’s eyes flashed a different color when he was emotional, and then wondered if that other color was the reddish that you’d seen while he was a wolf.

“He’s leaving you alone here?” Tom chewed on his lower lip, eyes narrowing. “That’s a surprise.” What are you planning?

“No, I’m going out of town, too.” You reached for your drink, willing your hand not to shake. “Planned it before the weather went to shit, and I’m still going to go. It’ll be good research, and I’m not really interested in trying to cancel reservations.”

“Where you headed?” Coming from anyone else, it would have been an innocuous question, but you could almost feel the edge to Tom’s ask, and you knew Frankie did, too.

“South. Cape Coral. Frankie promised me that the majority of the storm would skip there, so…” You shrugged, hoping that it hid your discomfort - and the lie. “I guess we’ll see.”

Tom didn’t speak right away, but Molly did, waving her hand back and forth and rolling her eyes as she told you that you’d get a little rain and some wind. It was easier for you to speak to her, and so you did, answering with a laugh that was only half-forced as you took another drink.

Your hand tightened on Frankie’s leg as Tom joined in the conversation, talking about one of the many storms that they’d ridden out during their time in Tampa. And his arm shifted slightly to pull you closer, his head turning so that he could press a kiss to the space behind your ear when Tom laughed about sandbags exploding, Frankie’s quiet I’m right here, I love you making you shiver.

You had no idea how he was keeping so calm, because you were wound tighter than you could ever remember being before, and were almost desperate to get away from the table - and Tom.

It wasn’t that you were afraid he’d try anything that night. In fact, you were convinced of the opposite, because you knew that Frankie wouldn’t hesitate to fight back. You also knew that Benny and Will kept a gun behind the counter, a stash of silver bullets in a small bowl beside it. And if you knew that, then Tom did, too.

But you were afraid of him, afraid of how little he seemed to care about antagonizing you and Frankie. You were fearful of his cockiness, because it meant that he was overconfident, and if he was overconfident as a man, you knew it would carry over the closer it got to the full moon. And that makes him more dangerous.

“Anyone need a refill?” Benny appeared almost out of nowhere, his arms swinging loosely by his sides. “Tom, Molly, there’s a table that just opened if you guys wanted to have some privacy. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it with Tessa at college.” It was subtle but pointed, and you felt a surge of affection for the younger Miller, your mouth turning upward into a smile at his offer. “Closer to the bar, too.”

Tom didn’t want to get up - you could see the hesitation in his eyes, but when Molly reached over to take his hand, nodding excitedly, you let out another small sigh of relief. “Yes, please. We should leave these two alone so they can enjoy their date. And I’m starving, so the sooner we order food, the better.”

“We can order while we sit here, Mol. I’m sure ‘Fish and -”

“Actually,” Frankie cut in, his fingertips tapping on the tabletop. “We were trying to have a date before I leave, so we’d appreciate the privacy, too.” It happened then, and you were almost positive that Tom wasn’t even aware of it - but his eyes did flash, changing color briefly in the fluorescent bar lighting as his jaw tightened. He doesn’t like Frankie challenging him. He’s angry. But that confirms it. He’s … it’s… “It was really good to see you, Mol. Hope you’re holding up well with an empty house.”

“It’s weird, but …” She pushed on Tom’s arm, urging him to stand. “We’re enjoying it.” You laughed, watching as they stood and took a step away from the table “Right, Tom?”

“Right.” He stood stiffly, his eyes moving between you and Frankie. “You two be careful driving tomorrow.” Frankie grunted and you nodded, thanking him and telling him you would. You watched as he put his hand against Molly’s lower back, turning her in the direction Benny had indicated.

“Be right back with a refill, ‘Fish,” the blonde called back at you. “No need to get up.”

Molly giggled at his words and you managed a small smile, but Frankie didn’t react until they were out of earshot. “You need to take everything you have on the Chaos line with you when you leave. He knows you won’t be there for a couple days. He…” He sighed. “He might decide to take a look around.”

You agreed, and told him as much. “I won’t go back in there until you’re back, either.” He nodded. “Did you see it, his eyes, they -”

“Mine do that too?” Turning his head to look at you, you saw concern in the depths of his, though there was nothing unusual about them that night - they were his usual deep brown. “You said you’ve seen it.”

“They do. But not red. Yours are …” Reaching up, you swept your thumb over his stubbled cheek. “They’re gold. Warm. It sort of looks like your eyes under a really bright light.” He leaned into your touch, and you felt him relax slightly. Good.

“Break it up, you two. This is a public place.” Benny put two new drinks in front of you and then stopped next to the table, flipping a towel over one shoulder. “You guys alright?”

“No, but it could have been worse.” He gave you a sympathetic smile and looked to Frankie, taking a long breath.

“We cant ask ‘em to leave, and I’m sorry about that, ‘Fish.”

“Don’t apologize.” Frankie slid away from you on the seat and your hand dropped. “As long as he doesn’t come back over here, we’re all good.” He stood up and Benny stepped back, watching as Frankie moved to the other side of the table and sat again. “We might not stay long, though. Maybe finish this round and head out.”

Benny nodded and then tapped his hand on the table, telling you that if either of you needed anything else, you knew where to find him. And when he was gone, you turned your attention back to Frankie. “After this is over…” You reached out, putting your hand flat on the table between you. “We should go on a trip somewhere.”

“What? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” The abrupt change in subject did the trick, and you watched his posture change, Frankie’s brows shooting up as he leaned in. “A vacation?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged. “It’s going to be winter soon. And I know you’ve spent almost your whole life in this humid hellscape they call Florida, but…” That made him laugh, and the sound warmed you from the inside out. Good. Good, that’s what I want to hear. “But there are places where it actually gets cold. Places where there are snow and mountains and different kinds of forests for you to run through during the full moon.”

“But I’ve never … aside from Colombia, I’ve never ….” He frowned. “What if something happens?”

“It won’t.” He took your hand, sliding his fingers between yours and pressing your palms flat against each other. “But a change in scenery, even only for a little while might be a good thing.”

“I can’t miss a holiday with Carmen. I won’t.”

“Ashley’s not due until the end of December anyway. So we can’t go out there til early next year.” You grinned, tilting your head. “And there are places out West where it snows until May and June, so we have time.” He was quiet for almost a minute, eyes locked on your face. What are you thinking, Francisco?

“You’re already thinking that far ahead?” He wet his lips and then bit the lower one. “About next summer?”

“Yes.” You swallowed, still staring at him and watching as the look in his eyes changed, heat filling them. But that’s not the wolf. “I hope that’s alright.”

“It’s more than alright.” He reached for his drink and drained half of it in one long gulp, eyes half closed as he tipped his head back. “In fact,” he continued when he’d set the glass down, creating a new ring of condensation on the table. “I think we should leave and I’ll show you just how alright it is.”

Your stomach flipped, and you shivered. Oh, Frankie. But you nodded at the same time, picking up your drink and taking a smaller - but still healthy - sip. “What are we waiting for, ‘Fish?” He squeezed your hand and then let go, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and drop a few bills on the table.

“Nothing anymore.” He stood again and waited until you did, too. Because the bar was so crowded, he had to walk behind you, but he stayed close, one hand on your lower back until you were outside in the parking lot again.

It reminded you of the first night you’d met, and when you turned to tell him that, he was waiting. “I wanted you to kiss me in the parking lot the first night we met.” You blinked a few times, watching as the water began to dampen his hair and shirt. “I understand why you didn’t, but … I wanted you to.” He stepped closer, staying quiet.

You believed that Frankie would handle Tom. You believed you’d get answers. You believed that after, you’d go to Texas and then to somewhere snowy. You believed that you’d meet Carmen and Becca and be able to take the next steps toward a future with him. But just in case… if it doesn’t happen? I don’t want anything unsaid. “I wanted to, too.”

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love you, Francisco, so much. And yes, I’m thinking about next year and next summer and all of the nexts because I don’t want to -”

“How ‘bout I kiss you now?” He slid one hand up the center of your back, fingers splayed. “Better late than never, right?” You nodded, closing the distance, and when your lips met, you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling.

You’d kissed him probably hundreds of times in the few months you’d known him, but that one felt different.

It had little to do with the rain and the breeze, and everything to do with what it signaled - the breaking of the tension that had grown with Tom and Molly appearing in the bar, processing of the conversation that you’d been forced to have with them, the realizations that had come after. But most importantly, it was an indication that you were still on the same page, and that it wasn’t just about immediate satisfaction or the fact that you’d found each other temporarily.

He bit softly on your lower lip and you parted them for him, the tip of your tongue poking though and meeting his. It escalated quickly from there, one of your hands rising to tangle in the damp curls at the back of his neck, Frankie’s fingers twisting the material of your shirt between them as he backed you toward the corner of the building and where he’d parked his truck.

Your back hit the cool exterior wall of the bar, and he kept kissing you, his body pressed against yours as the rain continued to fall. A flash of lightning followed by a low rumble of thunder broke you apart, and you groaned, still holding onto him. “We’re getting soaked, Frankie.”

“And?” His lips moved over yours before they strayed to your cheek and then back toward your ear. “It’s just water.”

“We’re going to ruin the interior of your truck.” Reluctantly, you pushed him away and then took his face between both hands. “But the sooner we get home, the sooner you can help me out of these clothes.”

That was the right thing to say, because Frankie backed off on his own then, jerking his chin toward the parking lot and then reaching up to take your hand.

Distracting each other wouldn’t solve your problems, and you could only continue to do it for so long before the next full moon came. And we need to worry about now before we can even think about next.

But when Frankie’s hand found yours and lifted it so that he could kiss your knuckles, it was hard not to think so far ahead… and even harder to imagine that there might not be a future for the two of you.

—

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