#eh id risk anything for him so who cares

[cammy-mcspammy]

(Same anon from before.) What I meant by Teruteru going into a blind rage, I meant like his accent would immediately slip out and he would just go on a massive angry rant about that vegan bitch to the point where everyone in the cast is just scared to talk or mention her lol. (I honestly don’t think Teruteru would as go too far as to kill someone for mentioning her, I bet that’s what everyone thought that happened to the last person that mentioned her lmao-)

(Nononononono i was joking about the killing thing, he's a total mommas boy so he wouldn't unless he really had to... COUGH COUGH TWOGAMI) /lh

I forgot he had an accent!!! but I also feel like when he rants about her there'd be a lot of hand movements and steaming because he's passionate.

Idk why but it always feels like every danganronpa character has a hidden plot twist in them.

very passionate.

[imthebadguyyy]

Tommy Shelby x Reader modern!au - singer!reader

Perfume and tears, pt II

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy walked into The Garrison, and pulled off his dark gray coat. He heard a call of his name and saw John calling him over. Preparing himself for the endless teasing to come, he strolled over to the bar, ordering himself a bottle of whisky, and a bowl of peanuts.

"Oy, Tommy, where have you been hmm ? Went looking all over for ya" Arthur said, clapping him good naturedly, on the back. Pouring some whiskey into his glass, he said in offhand voice, "work calls Arthur. Had ta run over to the office for a while. Emergency came up" Pretending not to see the smirks the men were giving each other he downed the glass in one gulp and poured out another glass to drink.

"Work with the pop star, eh Thomas ?" Alfie grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Taking another small sip, he nodded once before rolling his eyes at the hooting and hollering. "Been spending a lot of time with her, haven't ya ? What was it this time?" Michael asked, casually sipping his beer. "Just work Michael. And I'm not going to discuss my business with Ms. L/N with you lot. That's private, confidential business" "All right, all right" said John, throwing his arms in the air. " gettin' a little touchy are we ?" Muttering to himself, Tommy downed his second glass of whisky, only to hear his phone ring.

Looking down at the called ID he was surprised to see Y/N's name flash across the screen. Somewhat hesitantly, he answered the call, careful to not show his mates the number. "Hello ?" He said clearing his voice slightly. "Hi, Thomas. Tree Paine just informed me that I have to perform a charity show to raise money for Cancer Awareness. I was wondering if you would accompany me to rehearsals tomorrow. The paps seem to have camped out outside my building" she answered, slight frustration creeping into her voice.

"Yeah I'll be there. And as for the paps, let them see a glimpse of ya. Youre not doing yourself any favors by hidin' away from the entire world. Let them see you're *doing better then you ever were*" when his words were met with silence, for a moment he was afraid he had overstepped his boundaries. "Okay then. I'll go out tomorrow. No umbrellas. No tons of bodyguards. No hoodies and sunglasses. But on one condition... you come with me" she replied, blushing madly on her side of the phone.

Although he had been surprised when she had agreed, he had smirked at the last part. So after agreeing and settling on a time he put the phone down, still smiling softly to himself. Whilst he had been on the phone, his aunt Polly had walked in, and noted the somewhat lovestruck expression on her nephew's face. It had come as a shock to her, but she had also seen it coming. Tommy didn't love easily. He found it hard to love someone and didn't know how to react. He had been in love once, though, a woman named Grace Burgess. But she had broken his heart and left him a man afraid to love. Polly never liked the woman, seeing through her at once. Walking towards him, she picked up his bottle of whisky and took a small sip.

" who were you talking to Thomas ?" She asked casually, full well knowing who it was. "Y/N L/N" he replied, not looking her in the eye, knowing he would find humor in them. "Ah. The singer. She's got a voice of an angel that one" she commented, reaching over for a glass. Tommy hummed nonchalantly, and nodded. " that she does" Polly stood up, a full glass of whisky in her hand, and beckoned her nephew to follow her.

Weaving through the crowd, they went into the private parlor, usually reserved for Polly Gray and Thomas Shelby. Setting her glass down and lighting a cigarette, she turned to him and said in a would be casual voice, " have you told her the real reason you wanted to be employed as a bodyguard" causing him to let out a mock laugh and light up another cigarette for himself. " And risk her life ? No of course I bloody well haven't. And not a single word should reach her. If such a time comes that she is in a vulnerable position, I'll tell her myself. Till then, Not. A.Word"

" she will be in a vulnerable position if you don't get that look out of your eyes Tommy" Polly replied, taking a sip of her whisky, while keeping an eye on him. "What look Aunt Pol ?" He asked turning to her with a vacant expression. " the one you had when you fell in love with Grace, Thomas" Caught slightly off guard, he raised an eyebrow, taking a deep puff of his cigarette. " If you're suggesting that we're anything more than employer and employee, I'd have ta correct ya. Anyways, you can just ask her yourself. She's got a show not 10 minutes away from here tomorrow. Cancer Awareness show. Come and watch her, make up your mind about her and then you can decide if ya want to tell her about business. Now if you'll excuse me Aunt Pol, I've to go over security details for the show tomorrow" and downing the rest of his whiskey, he stubbed his cigarette out and straightened his coat jacket.

He may not have been completely honest with you. He was still Tommy Shelby, Peaky Blinder. He was Y/N's bodyguard too, but only because her name had been thrown in by a rival gang, wanting to undermine the star and ruin her reputation forever. Ada had put her foot down, demanding that Tommy go and protect the harmless, innocent woman who had been thrown into their mess, when she didn't even know them. And some part of him, the part that was still humane, agreed.

And that's what had got him into this mess. One that couldn't be solved with guns and punches and razored caps. A mess his heart had gotten him into. Well, he would be damned if he let anything hurt you. Probably the only sweet and innocent thing in his life. And so, walking out of the Garrison, he walked towards the stadium instead, where the headlines in a week would be Y/N L/N'S ONE NIGHT ONLY.

[sweetchup]

A Helping Hand

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au. Normal Au.

Word count: 5,300+ (oof, Shalnark fans are going to be well fed)

Warnings: Spoliers from Manga Chapter 357+, Blood/gore, Cursing, Bad Coworker, Character Death, PTSD, Slight Angst, Fluff, I’m not a doctor and even if I did research not everything here is going to be accurate and correct

Author note: Honestly, I should’ve spent today working on my 100 follower special but I accidentally had a intresting thought after watching the phantom troupe fighting chimera ants. So... I grew back my love for smiley boi Shalnark and I had a thought about an intresting scenario. So, you ended up with this.

(Pt.2)—>

“You on your dinner break, (Y/n)?” Evan, your coworker says. You watch as he leans over the counter of the desk of the intensive care unit and raises an eyebrow at you as you chew on your taco salad. You squint your eyes at the man and gesture to your salad, like “seriously it’s obvious”. Evan laughs but soon let’s out a groan and stretches.

“You okay?” You say sloppily due to you still eating your salad. Afterall, you only had half an hour allowed to eat dinner before going back to work.

“Eh. Rough shift.” Evan says and Groans again as his hand massages over a specific muscle on his shoulder, “Did you hear about the situation down at Heaven’s Arena?”

You shake your head, you hadn’t heard anything today due to the number of patients you had to attend to in the intensive care unit. It was usually pretty crazy here after all. Though, there are some pretty bad cases that come into the emergency department as well, which Evan worked at, especially from Heaven’s Arena. So this wasn’t anything usual.

“Basically, there was a death match between floor masters Hisoka Morow and Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Yeesh, so one of them came in still half alive?” You mumble, cringing at the thought. You dislike the brutality of what happens at some of the floors. It just wasn’t needed most of the time, especially with what almost happened to a boy named Gon, who Evan took care of.

“No. Worse. One of them manipulated most of the crowd and blew up the top floor so we have multiple casualties being rushed in.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be there right now?”

“Just got off shift. I’m staying, of course, just in case, but I’m waiting for them to check with the supervis—“

“Just wheel him out of here! He’s practically brain dead already!!” A screech resounds around the Intensive Care Unit as a slam of door comes after.

“But, Miss—“

“No! I said to pronounce him dead.”

You and Evan whip your head around to see what the yelling about, but you soon cringe as you see who it is. It was Sala Monodo, one of the head surgeons in charge of the Emergency Department. She was a really good surgeon but a greedy and nasty woman, along with one of the reasons why you switched from the Emergency Department to the intensive care unit.

You mumble a “what the fuck..” under your breath and place down your salad. Of course it would be this bitch to deny the ambulance crew to treat a still alive patient.

You rush around the counter and to the ambulance workers that had rolled the person down the hallway. Dale, an older worker of the Ambulance crew of the hospital, recognizes you and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Dale. What’s the situation?” You say, speed walking and examining the patient still on the stretcher. Man, this guy was in terrible condition. He was a young blonde haired man with blood just gushing from his nose. So much so he might even die from blood loss. It also didn’t help that he had lacerations and bruises on his wrists. Was this patient also caught up at the mess at Heaven’s Arena? No… there’s no burns which would have happened if he was part of an explosion.

“Young man, about mid-twenties, found hanged by his wrist at the playground downtown. No ID on him or info found in our Database. We do have a hunter’s License but that will take a while for Identification….”

Crap… that’s not good. Now, you don’t know if he takes any medication or if he’s allergic to any. On top of that we also don’t know his blood type or any past medical conditions, which will probably be useful in this situation.

“Our main problem is it seems he has a severe to moderate traumatic brain injury. Which is causing bad swelling of the brain. Along with a troubling possibility of damage to his spinal cord but that is still unconfirmed. We—“

“Dale, his heart stopped!” One of the other ambulance workers says. Fuck, that is the last thing we need right now. You quickly jump on top of the man on the stretcher as it continues to be wheeled and begin to give chest compressions.

“Dale, wheel—“ “What the hell are you doing?!?”

You glare towards Sala, still not stopping the chest compressions. “I said mark him as deceased! We are at max capacity in the Emergency room!”

You raise an eyebrow at the woman as Evan, who had sprinted over as well, jaw drops to the floor. Was this bitch serious? He’s still alive! He was breathing up until a couple of seconds ago. It also didn’t help that he needed to get him to the emergency room and you had no time to waste arguing with her. You know what… this will probably get you fired but oh well.

“Mal!” You shout as loud as you can for the Front desk women at the Intensive Care Unit. Mal, an older woman, runs out as fast as she can from a back room nearby, causing the door to slam against the wall. “Sign this patient under my name! We don’t have any identification yet so just roll with a description.”

Mal nods her head and runs in the direction of the front desk.

“You can’t do that!! He’s my patient so I say what happens!” Sala says screeching like a banshee at you. She chucks papers at you, probably the files to name this unknown man deceased. You only chuckle at her and give her a taunting look.

“Well, according to the paperwork, he’s a patient of the intensive care unit. So he’s mine now and I’m going to prove you wrong by making sure he lives.”

Sala goes to rebut but you cut her off. “Evan, pick up the papers she threw! Dale, take a blood sample and run it to the lab! I want his blood type and anything unusual. You two, wheel me to room 12, I’m going to need to get this man stable before we do a CAT scan on him.”

The other two ambulance personnel nod and turn you to that direction. Sala, unfortunately, is still chasing after you, not wanting to let this go. You give her a glare because you honestly don’t have time for this. You had just finished your thirty chest compressions so you need to give him air, fast.

Taking two fingers and you push the man’s head back to open his airway. Carefully, you put your lips on his, trying to not cringe at the sudden wetness and taste of blood, and give him two rescue breaths. You mentally sigh in relief as you watch his chest somewhat rise up at each of your breaths. That meant his airway thankfully wasn’t blocked and you could give him oxygen. Though it wasn’t lifting as much as usual which told you there was either a problem of the amount of blood blocking his airway or some being in his lungs.

You pull away from the man’s lips, yours tainted a little scarlet from his blood. You thankfully, as you lift up, lock eyes with a security personal and gesture to Sala. “Get this wacko out of here now! We have a situation!”

The security nods and grabs onto Sala who screeches and tries to fight back. Now that that was taken care of you can finally get this guy stable.

As the two ambulance personnel finally wheel you into room 12, you tell and gesture at them to leave and go. After all, they still had calls to get to and you had plenty of nurses who could help you out in a situation like this.

They thanked you and sprinted out, making sure to not bother you. Ok, so now that no one that was unauthorized was here you could try to see if you could use your Nen to try and stable him. Pulling your hands up, you close your eyes and focus. Focusing on sensing the blood in his body. Crap, your worst nightmare was true. There was blood blocking the airway through his nose and some in his lungs. Along with a conformation of swelling and too much blood in his brain. You now realize you can’t wait for a CAT scan or any other nurses to rush over here. You need to treat this man now or he will 100% be unable to be saved.

Taking some scissors from the metal tray, you carefully cut off the man’s purple tunic like shirt and his black undershirt. You throw the scissor back into the tray and put your hands in the middle of the man’s bare chest. Your heart was thumping out of your chest at the thought of not being quick enough. Come on (y/n), focus. This isn’t the time. You need to manipulate the unnecessary blood out of his body.

Taking a deep breath in, you run your hands up the man’s chest, around his neck and finally to his lips and nose. You slowly open your eyes and lift your hands away. You watch as blood in bubble-like shapes float out of the man’s nose and mouth. Swirling them all around in the air until it’s in a perfect droplet, you bend the blood over to a dish and drop it in it. Man, were you glad that you stuck to your gut and told your sensei you were going to manipulate blood. He didn’t think it was a smart choice but hey, suck it Sensei Matt. Look at how useful it is now.

After you made the blood clot the open wounds of the nose, all you had to do now, since there was no longer a risk of him drowning in his own blood or his airway possibly being blocked, you just needed to reduce the amount swelling to the brain and bring fresh oxygen throughout everything in his body to keep him alive.

Ok, you take a deep breath and raise your shaky hands. You can do this. All you needed to do was manipulate his blood throughout his whole body like a normal cycle, manipulate the blood in his heart to pump, and give him 2 rescue breaths every 30 cycles until he is stable or until blood tests come back. You can… You clench your hand in determination. No, you will do this.

————🚨📱🚨————

“What do you mean I’m wrong!?!”

You sit there rubbing your temples as you watch as one of the directors of the hospital sighs and explains how I'm not in trouble, to Sala, again. You lightly lean back in your chair and try to drown out the chaos in front of you.

It has been about a month since the incident with the 25 year old man, Shalnark, that got admitted to the hospital. Thankfully, you found out his name and age from the Hunter Association a week ago. Though it took them way too long to give it to you guys in your opinion. Along with the fact they didn’t give it to you personally and instead the department. Which gave Sala the opportunity to snoop and learn his name in order to try and get you in trouble with the Higher ups. But, it seems, due to what is going on right now, her plan has backfired. Though why wouldn’t it?! She denied a still alive man that you saved.

Afterall, Shalnark was now stable and on his way to recovering, thanks to your efforts. Though, he was currently in a coma. A big problem since you didn’t know how long he would stay that way either. But, at least since Shalnark is a skilled Nen user so he is able to heal pretty quickly and you hoped he would be able to be out of his comatose state between the next week to month. Since it seemed to be caused by brain damage.

So far while he was under your watch, with your blood manipulation you were able to heal and not cause scar tissue for most of the nerves in his spine and brain so he wouldn’t suffer from any permanent damage and be back to normal. Well…, not off the bat, he would still have to go through a lengthy recovery. One being doing some serious physical therapy sessions since he would still have to relearn a lot of his movements.

You take a sigh. Why are you worrying about this now? Well… it was probably due to the fact when you were washing him up after you saved him you saw his tattoo. A twelve legged spider. The symbol of loyalty to the phantom troupe. You haven’t told anyone, after all that would jeopardize his recovery and send hunters flooding in to try and kill him. Though—

The door suddenly slams open, startling everyone in the room. You quickly turn to see Evan, clearly out of breath, standing there.

“I’m…” Evan wheezes suddenly, “I’m so sorry Sir! But I need to tell (y/n) something. It’s important!”

The director nods his head, “Go right ahead. But, she can’t leave the room until the meeting ends.”

“Of course sir!”

Evan turns to you and smiles like a mad man. You just raise an eyebrow. What the fracking hell. Did Evan put crack cocaine in his coffee this morning or something?

“(Y/n). Shalnark is awake!”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you frantically stand up. “R-really? How’s he doing?!”

You take a gulp as you feel your throat tighten. You were scared to hear what Evan has to say. Afterall, Shalnark is the patient you have spent the most time with out of all of every patient you have ever taken care of. Mostly due to the fact he was in such a bad condition at first but, eventually, due to how you had grown attached to really wanting him to make a full recovery.

“He’s okay. He’s in a minimalistic conscious state so he’s very confused and unsure of what’s going on.”

“I-I need to check on him then. Sir, I’m sor—“

The director raises his hand to stop you from continuing and stands up. He quickly grabs some sheets of paper and hands them out to you, a small smile on his face. “No need to apologize. Just take these and go.”

“Thank you Sir!”

You take them and bow before the man. Quickly, not even bothering with taking the elevator, you rush over to the intensive care unit. Finally there, you catch yourself on the door of room 12, almost slipping past it and falling.

Panting, you look into the room to see Shalnark moving around frantically as male nurses try to hold him down. Sure, it wasn’t the best scene to see but it was at least a relief to finally see his eyes open and that he could move around.

You start to approach the bed causing one of the male nurses to notice and yell at you, “Doctor (l/n), I don’t think it’s a good idea! He crushed one of the nurse’s hands when he first woke up.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You say as you finally reach the side of his bed. “Shalnark. I need you to calm down for me.”

“W-who?!” Shalnark looks around frantically but is cut off by his own wheezing. You lean over to examine his eyes and see that they are harshly dilated. So, that’s why he is hostile, he probably can’t even see.

Hesitantly, you reach over and grab the Shalnark’s hand. You squint your eyes and grit your teeth as you know what's going to happen next. You flinch as Shalnark squeezes down and breaks your hand.

Shakily, you hold up your other hand and signal the male nurses to let go of him. As soon as they let go, Shalnark frantically looks around due to being unable to see them and not knowing where they went.

“Shalnark.” You grab the man’s attention and he turns to you. You pause and take a harsh inhale as he squeezes a bit more on your hand. He might be hostile and seem angry but you can feel his hand shaking as he holds in a death grip, telling you he was confused and frightened. “Shalnark. My name is (y/n) (l/n) and the doctor that was assigned to taking care of you in the Intensive Care Unit. I apologize that I suddenly caught you off guard and touched you. You’ve been out for quite some while and had some pretty harsh injuries so I was concerned and didn’t think of the consequences. I’m not sure if you can hear or understand me but could you let go of my hand as a sign you can?”

The room goes silent as you and the other staff wait for his response. Thankfully, Shalnark hesitantly lets go of your hand.

“Thank you. Now I’m just going to put the bed into an upright position so I can examine you. I don’t want you moving your head back and forth anymore due to your injuries so I’m going to have one of the nurses bring you a cup of water so you can speak. I’m going to touch your hand, can you please squeeze it to confirm if you think you can drink some water? If not, you can take your hand away.”

You softly reach over with your non-broken hand and hold onto his. You wait for a couple of seconds before you feel Shalnark lightly squeeze down on your hand. Looking over, you nod to the nurse who grabs a cup of water and walks over.

“The nurse has a cup of water. You can’t see right?”

Shalnark squeezes your hand again.

“Ok. I’m just going to take your hand and place it on my arm. I’m going to help you drink the cup of water. Just squeeze to let me know when you have enough.”

You softly put the edge of the cup to Shalnark’s lips. You were being very careful when tilting it upwards so you don’t spill water or give him too much at once. Shalnark thankfully drinks every single last drop, though you had expected that after all it had been nearly a month since he last drank anything.

You take the empty cup away. “Can you talk, Shalnark? I don’t want to give you too much water just in case your stomach can’t handle it.”

Shalnark clears his throat a couple of times. “Y-yes… yes.”

You watch his face carefully. His speech isn't slurred and his face wasn’t lopsided, which thankfully told you the parts of his brain that deal with conversations and the movements in his face were functioning normally. You would definitely have to treat Betty to dinner for agreeing to help you by fixing his nose and taking out the scar tissue in his face and nose.

“Good. Now, I’m just going to examine you…” you trail off at the end as you are surprised. When you went to move, it caused him to lose the grip on your arm. He frantically reaches around and grabs onto your hand, thankfully not the broken one. How weird. “Are you okay?”

“Ah.” Shalnark seems embarrassed and conflicted with himself for a second, “I just can’t see. I-it’s weird and…”

“Oh. If it’s reassuring you are allowed to hold onto my hand if you want to.”

Shalnark lets out a small thank you, it’s hard to hear but you don’t press into him about it. “Well, I’m going to first test the feeling in your body. I’m going to put a little pressure on each part of your body and I want you to say if you feel any pain or not. You don’t have to move or anything, just let me know. Also, you should probably close your eyes, after all you can’t see which tells me there's a brain injury and the bright light might end up giving you a big headache later.”

Patiently, you watch as Shalnark closes his green eyes. You almost felt sad that you couldn’t see them anymore but you shake away that thought. You need to take care of him first, not worry about trivial things.

————🚨📱🚨————

“Ok so that was the last of the tests. Honestly, you’re in pretty good condition regarding your situation Shalnark.” You say as another doctor wraps your broken hand. God, Nen was always super convenient in pretty much any medical case. You didn’t even have to get stitches or surgery for your hand! Only wrapping and a warning to try to not use it too much.

“Ah I see. H-How long do you think I’ll be here for?” Shalnark says, his eyes still closed as he fidgets with your other hand. He’s been doing that for quite some time, you wondered if maybe he was nervous.

“Hmm. That’s tough to say since we don’t really have any other parts of your medical history. But, an educated guess? I would probably give you a week or two to solve the head trauma symptoms and to introduce your body back into normal food and fluids. Then, during that time and maybe a little after, I’m going to help get your arm and legs back to functioning. Finally, you will probably start some physical therapy so you can relearn how to move and make sure everything is okay. So I would say 2-3 months? Though, it might take shorter or longer depending on the way your body adapts.” You say, letting go of Shalnark’s hand to write a prescription down and handing it to the other doctor who had just finished wrapping your arm, “Derek, do you think you could run this to Mal? I’m going to need some ibuprofen for both me and him.”

“Sure thing. Need anything else?”

“Nope that’s all. Thank you.”

The door clicks lightly as Derek exits the room. You let a drag out sigh. Man, what a crazy day it was today. Almost the craziest you’ve ever had. Oh! You almost forgot. You stretch out your body like a cat from your chair to grab the papers on the counter. You completely forgot the papers that the director had given you. Let’s see…

“(Y/n)?”

You let out a humm to Shalnark to let him know you were listening.

“So, were you the one to take care of me this whole time?”

“Yep.” You flick to the next page.

“Did you happen to help me… get dressed? Bathe me?”

You turn the other page over. “Yes. Usually the nurses do it but, due to your condition, I was the only personnel trusted to do it. Don’t worry though, it’s something we do often in intensive care.”

You pause in your reading as you feel the air shift around you. You slowly look up and towards Shalnark, who for the first time since he woke up, smiled at you. A seemingly nice closed eyed smile. Though, you could tell it was anything but nice.

“You didn’t happen to see anything suspicious on my back, right?”

Ah. So that’s why. “No. I did. You're talking about the twelve legged spider tattoo, right?”

The air grows thicker around you two and you go back to looking through your papers.

“Though no one else knows, neither does it say it in your medical records. Though, I didn’t put a record for you here in the first place.”

The air suddenly stops being tense and clears up. You look up slightly from your paper before looking back down as you see Shalnark was completely blank faced. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t put a record. You had one when you entered but I deleted it. It’s one of the many privileges you have since you have a Hunter license.”

“I know that. But, why doesn’t anyone else know? K…” Shalnark pauses for a moment, seeming to try and calm himself down, “Kortopi is dead and the police should be knocking down the door to interrogate me. Also, you know I’m part of the troupe. You should be contacting the bounty hunters and collecting the A-List bounty for my head.”

You let out a sigh and place the papers down on the bed sheet.

“Well I am a Hunter. I took the 284th Hunter’s Exam.” You cringe as you feel the room get tense again and some of Shalnark’s bloodlust leaks out. “Not that sort of Hunter. I would kill myself if I ever be came a jackpot hunter or a bounty hunter. I don’t care about money, fame or whatever.”

You take a pause and sigh again. “The Bounty Hunters or Police won’t be questioning you at all. Your friend’s tattoo was never found and I used my license to stop the police and the Hospital from thinking of questioning you or collecting any info. So, you can rest easy that you aren’t being track”

The air seems to calm down but only a little bit before it gets even tenser than before. You looked up stunned as you heard a crash and see that Shalnark had thrown something at the counter with an angry face. “Why? Huh!? Just turn me over and leave me to die! Take your reward and go! I don’t want your—“

“Will you calm down for one second!?” You yell out, breaking your composure for the first time in front of him. “If I really wanted to turn you in I would have a month ago. I don’t care for money at all! The reason…”

You trail off at the end and clench your fist. Memories of your past flashing through your thoughts. Getting all tangled with your emotions, making it harder to think. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

“The reason I became a Hunter is to help people, no matter who it is or what has happened. If I told anyone, and I mean anyone about who you are, that would jeopardize you getting better. I’m not turning back on a promise I made, no matter if you're part of the troupe or not, you're still my patient and I’m going to make sure you make a full recovery.”

The room goes silent and you neaten up your papers before standing up. The chair makes a harsh screech against the cold tile floors. You pause before you take a step and turn to Shalnark. His head dropped so you couldn’t see his expression. “I just read the documents my director gave me. Due to the incident with emergency care, the hospital is going to pay all of your medical bills and I’m going to have less to no patients so I can watch and take care of you during my shifts so you can make a whole recovery. It’s now the night shift so I’m officially off the clock and I’m going to go home but if you need anything you can press the button on your bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk away from the bed and clutch your hand onto the cold door knob. Man, what a depressing way to end this. You usually could handle anything that was thrown at you, maybe you need a better night’s sleep. You haven’t been sleeping well lately after all.

“(Y/n).”

You pause your movements at Shalnark’s voice, the door somewhat still open. You almost don’t hear the next thing he says but your eyes widen as you do.

“Please. Please don’t go.”

It wasn’t that you hadn’t expected it. It was just that Shalnark’s voice sounded so small. So frightened. Like a kitten stuck out in the freezing rain. Something you hadn’t ever heard from a citizen of Meteor city and something you didn’t think you would ever hear from a member of the Phantom Troupe. A notorious gang of thieves. You slowly close the door and turn around to him.

You can’t see Shalnark’s face as you walk over to him. Slowly, you grab onto his face and turn him to look at you. You feel his face shaking in your hand and you see him clenching his eyes shut.

You hadn’t even thought of it before now. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility. But now it makes sense. He was easily startled, something that shouldn’t be easy for a thief or criminal. He was constantly on guard before examining him, during and after. He only smiled once and often spaced out. He got randomly and suddenly aggressive at times. And most importantly, he continually avoided the subject of what happened to him and when he finally told you, he didn’t remember important details of what happened. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t seen it before, Shalnark was showing classic signs of post traumatic stress disorder.

The problem is that you couldn’t do anything for it right now. Solutions for PTSD either need medications or therapy. And you currently can’t get him either. All you can hopefully do is find a way to calm him down and get him to sleep. You could talk to some of the other doctors and contact some therapist in the morning to help actually diagnose and help him, it was just too late at night for any of that right now.

“Shalnark.” You slowly rub your thumb soothingly up and down his face. His breathing hitches for a second before seeming to slowly begin to go back to normal. “I’m actually going to stay for the night. Is there anything, and I mean anything, I can do to help you?”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds and you stop rubbing his face.

“C-can you just keep on doing that?” Shalnark softly squeaks out.

“Of course. Anything else?”

“I’m… I’m good.”

“You sure? I’m going to be here the whole night so you can say anything.” It might seem weird to the average person to say anything again but you knew you needed to make sure. People with PTSD will commonly feel great feelings of guilt, shame or hopelessness and will close themselves off from people. So, you need to reassure at the beginning that Shalnark can ask you for anything and that he can trust you.

“Could…” Shalnark trails off, slightly fidgeting in front of you.

“It’s fine. You can say it. It won’t bother me.”

“Could. Could you like… hold me?”

You could tell based on how he was acting that asking for something like that was definitely not normal for him. Especially since he’s from Meteor City. Which from your experience don’t show most to any sign of affection or vulnerable feelings.

“Of course. I’m going to sit in the bed, okay?”

“Yeah…” Shalnark shuffles over, giving you room.

You slowly climb into the medical bed; it lightly creaking under your weight. Carefully you reach both hands, even your broken one, and hold onto him. You can feel him stiff under your touch and watch as he plays with and twitches his fingers.

“Shalnark. You are okay to hold me if you want. Just completely relax, No one is allowed to come into this room without my permission.”

Shalnark seems to finally break under your words and he uses his working arm to pull you into him. With some slight shuffling and moving, you are both finally comfortable and laying down. Shalnark was facing you, his face hidden in your neck as he held onto you like as if you were some sort of stuffed animal. You feel the man in your arms slowly begin to lull off to sleep as you run your fingers through his hair.

As you held the man in your arms in the dark room, you now knew that Shalnark’s recovery won’t take 3 months. Maybe physically but definitely not mentally.

But, you knew that as long as you stayed by Shalnark’s side and just helped him through it, it could be possible.

Slowly, you reach over and hold his hand in yours which he lightly squeezes back.

After all, all it takes is one helping hand.

[shadow-assassin-blix]

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

Chapter 5

A/N: “Talk” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’ Alludes to some sexy times. Lots of talks about feelings on multiple parties. Javier makes a phone appearance. Felix and Amado appear for a smidge. Blix begins to show some of her dark side.

Not gonna lie. Timeline of the show is about to get wonky, I will admit. I will give fair warning when that happens. Just rearranging certain events as it were. 

A few days later, and Blix was bored out of her mind. Her stitches itched. She wanted the cast off. She was tired of avoiding arguments with Diego. She honestly was two seconds away from setting the damn house on fire.

She had gone through her files 5 times, and talked with her team, who had finished up the crime scene at La Tertulia. Nothing had been stolen, just made to appear that way. It was all a trap to get them there and try to take them out. According to intel, König had figured out that the FBI was on his tail, but he didn’t know much more beyond that.

That had been two days ago. She was currently pacing the floors. Chepe often made jokes, about her being like a carnival game. One sicario was brave enough to try and throw a tennis ball at her. She had been irritated enough to throw a knife near his face, in retaliation. No one dared to do anything similar since.

She was waiting for Pacho to return from his meeting with Escobar. Something about there being an issue in LA. She usually tuned out when he heard him talk business to his associates.

While she was waiting, a doctor had apparently been called to come in and look over wounds. Her stitches were removed, as was her cast. She was told to gently exercise with it, so as to not cause the muscles to stiffen and cause her more pain.

Once he left, she had nothing to do again, but pass time. She didn’t want to read, she wasn’t hungry. If she looked at her files again, she was going to throw them in the trash.

She eventually decided to go for a swim to pass the time. She ignored some of the whispers she heard from his men as she walked by. She had many scars throughout her body; she was well aware of what they looked like.

She swam for about an hour, during which Pacho had eventually returned, irritated. His irritation did fade a bit once he looked out from the balcony attached to his office and saw Blix swimming.

Chepe stood next to him and commented, “She is quite beautiful, no?”

Pacho smirked and nodded, “She is.”

Blix finally got tired of swimming and stepped out. As she was drying off, Diego walked over to her.

“Hm. I can see the appeal. Somewhat. You are almost beautiful. The scars though, tsk,” He began, saying it lowly to her. “You know Pacho is just using you right? You know that you mean nothing to him? That once you are no longer needed, he will cut you out? Don’t get use to his attention. It won’t last.”

Blix doesn’t respond, like she usually did. She just wrapped the towel around herself and went inside.

She took a quick shower and got dressed. While everyone was distracted with Pacho’s return she moved her files and notes and took them to the garage.

She looked around for the most inconspicuous car he owned. Which wound up being a dark green corvette, a convertible. She walked over to the wall that held the keys and found the one labeled Corvette. She grabbed them and unlocked the driver side door, reaching over and setting her files down onto the passenger seat.

When she straightened up, she jumped as she sees Chepe standing next to her.

“Trying to make the great escape eh?” Chepe teased, leaning against the car.

“I just need some air. Away from here. I am tired of being stuck here,” She quietly admitted, with a sigh. “Does Pacho know I’m out here?”

“No. I saw you sneak this way by chance. If you want to go out, I can take you, if you would like?” He offered politely.

She looked down, annoyed, and honestly exasperated. She had a quick thought; she wasn’t sure if it would work.

“Okay. Do you mind running in to get me a drink then? I don’t wanna risk running into Diego again,” She quietly pleaded. “A soda please?”

“Sure. I can do that, Little Lady,” Chepe answered, calling her the nickname that some of the guys had begun to call her.

He walked away and once he gotten a little bit away from her, she jumped in the car and locked the door. She quickly started it as Chepe, made his way back over to try and get her out. He was too slow, and she drove off thankful that each car had its own garage opener.

She drove past the guards and made her way out onto the lonely road that lead back to Cali.

As Chepe stood there, chuckling, Pacho wandered in. “What’s going on?”

“Little bird flew the nest. She apparently needed to get away for a while,” Chepe replied before turning around to go back into the house. “Let her have a day to herself Pacho. Also. Might want to talk Diego. I believe he may have said something to her again.”

“She took my favorite. A little concern about that,” He mumbled to himself, a hand rubbing over his chin nervously.

Chepe laughed at that, as they both made their way back to Pacho’s office. An hour later they finished business, and Pacho requested for Diego to come see him.

A moment later Diego appeared before him.

“My love. Why must you constantly be at odds with her?” Pacho asked sitting at his desk.

“Why did you even bring her here? Why are you even bothering with her? She said it herself, the deal the brothers want, won’t matter until Escobar is out of the picture. Why keep her around?” Diego rapid fired his questions in response.

“I like her. Simple as that. I brought her here to take care of her while she healed. I keep her around, because I enjoy talking to her. I know my answers may upset you. But you also seem to think that I’m replacing you with her, and that’s not true,” He answered truthfully, looking him in the eyes.

“I still love you Diego. She’s not taking me away from you. In fact, I’m quite certain I’ve spent most of this week with you. In your arms. Not hers. So why do you continue to belittle her?” He continued as he stood before Diego and pulled him close.

Diego looked away, and felt a small amount of guilt as he reflected over the comments he said to her.

“I will… try to tolerate her more. I make no promises. But I will stop trying to goad her into an argument,” Diego conceded.

“Thank you. That’s all I want,” Pacho said pressing a kiss to Diego’s lips. “Now, I have to go find her, and make sure she’s okay. You owe her an apology by the way.”

Diego rolled his eyes slightly but nodded his head.

Back with Blix, she had finally arrived home, parking the corvette gently in front of her home. She grabbed her stuff out of the seat, and went inside, sighing in relief at the sight of her home.

She set her files down in her office alongside her sat phone. She checked on the food in her fridge, some of which had spoiled so she tossed it out. She decided then that she wanted to go to the store and get her own groceries.

She did just that, the store she liked was only two blocks down, so she walked to it. She grabbed a couple of different meats to make meals with, and then she got a lot of junk food. Once she was done getting what she needed between food and personal hygiene items, she checked out. Her trip took about 40 mins, but it made her feel a lot better already.

While she enjoyed being at Pacho’s home, she was often left to her own devices, and her movements were restricted around the house, depending on where he had his meetings.

She quite frankly grew bored, and while she tried to strike up conversation with the men around the house, they often avoided her. Whether it was because she was a federal agent or because Pacho ordered them to not speak with her, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she simply couldn’t do much.

She returned to her house and put away everything. She called up Jacque to see if she could come into work that night. He very enthusiastically told her yes. So, she got ready, dressing up in a black halter top mini dress, with a simple v-neck. It’s straps and bodice were lace-y, the skirt ending just above mid-thigh, and flowy. She slipped on her black strappy high heels.

She did some simple makeup, lip-gloss, and a bit of eyeshadow. She thought about walking to work, but then she stared at the lovely little corvette before her. She grabbed her purse, making sure her house keys were in it, along with some cash, her IDs and such before she snatched the car keys. ‘It’s such a pretty car. I mean it should be admired, should it not?’

She drove to work, smiling. When she got to work, she greeted Jacque and the waitresses. The official story for them was that she was in a car crash. So, they all came up to check on her, and made sure she was okay.

She told them she was fine, and ready to get back to normal. The night went on like it normally did, locals in the beginning, before switching to the younger crowd.

Her head at one point did begin to pound, and she had to take a seat while she worked, because she felt a bit lightheaded.

Jacque eventually sent off on her break, and as she made her way over to the familiar taco truck, she felt a bit exhausted. She didn’t have too much time to think on it as a small force ran into her, arms wrapping around her tightly.

“Miss Bee! You’re okay. We were so worried! I -We missed you!” Came the small voice of Paulo.

She hugged him back once she regained her bearings. “Hi honey. Yes. I’m okay. I missed you too.”

She stepped forward as Paulo talked her ear off, catching her up on the local and familial drama.

“Slow down for a moment honey. I gotta order,” Blix said, trying to get him to pause for a moment. “Hello Henri. How are you?”

“I’m good little fox. I’m happy to see you out and about. Are you sure you’re okay to be working already?” Henri asked concern, looking her over.

“I’m fine. I may see about heading out early. My head is aching. But uh.. I would like the steak burrito, please?” She assured before placing her order.

“Oh? Who upset you honey?” He asked as he began to make it.

“Why do you ask that? It’s just a burrito,” Blix protested.

“You don’t order the burrito, unless you are feeling upset. It’s a part of your quirks. Steak tacos on normal days, chicken quesadillas when you have strange cravings, cause you tend to dunk them in whatever sauce is available, and burritos when you’re really upset by something,” He listed out as he cooked.

She stared at him in surprise, blinking slowly. “I… I don’t know what to say that.”

“As I said, it’s just something I noticed over the past year. By the way this is on the house,” he noted as he began assembling the burrito.

A moment later, he hands her the burrito wrapped in some aluminum foil, and a couple of napkins. He then puts out a sign saying that he’s gone on break and comes outside.

He beckons her over to one of the picnic tables, and tells Paulo to go inside, that he can catch up later.

Blix made her way over to him, hopping up to sit on the tabletop, as she took a bite of her burrito.

“Alright, lil fox, what’s going on?” Henri began, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

“I seem to have the worst taste in men,” She began softly.

“This guy I’m… dating? Sleeping with? I don’t really know what exactly it is, he… he has… a partner, who… doesn’t care for me too much, is the nice way to put it,” She slowly explained trying to take care in her words.

“I knew he had this partner from the beginning, or rather I suspected it. That’s not my problem. The problem is… I have spent the past week, being goaded and taunted by this other person, because of my looks,” She stated with a sigh, staring down at her food dejectedly. “Often times, I can ignore what people say about me. But this past week, has really done a number on me.”

“Is the man you are seeing aware of the comments, and insults?” Henri asked after a moment.

“Yes. He knows…about some of it. I gave up after the third day of it, and his partner giving no shits about what he says,” She confessed. “The thing is, I spent years… years… trying to get over my scars. There was a large portion of my life where I would spend an hour every morning, putting on makeup to cover them up.”

“What made you stop doing that?” He asked curiously.

“My friend in Bogota. He… he was the first guy who looked at me, sans makeup, and didn’t flinch. He told me that I looked like a goddess. Athena in human form. It was the sincerest compliment I had ever gotten in years. I stopped caring after that,” She answered with a fond smile, thinking of Javier.

“Sounds like a good man. Why aren’t you with him then?” Henri wondered with a chuckle.

Blix laughed in response, before replying, “Because the man is terrified of commitment.”

“Ahh. Okay then,” He responded, nodding his head. “It sounds to me however, that you need to talk to your other suitor. If this relationship is to continue, all of you have to be on the same page. Being outed by his other significant other, is not fair to you.”

“I… I don’t know anymore, Henri. Feels like I shouldn’t even bother with it anymore. Not gonna lie, I kind of ran off on him today. Just… couldn’t deal with it anymore. Maybe I am just meant to be alone,” She shrugged, before taking a large bite to distract herself.

“Now, that sounds like giving up. I didn’t take you for a quitter,” He lightly admonished. “Take some time to yourself. The next time you see him, if your heart starts to race, or you feel butterflies in your stomach, then that’s worth pursuing. It means his mere presence makes you happy.”

She smiled softly at that and nodded her head. She continued eating, the two of them talking for a while longer, before the both of them had to return to work.

She worked for another hour before leaving early. Her head was pounding, and she felt exhausted. She sat in the driver’s side of the car, resting her eyes for a moment. The lightheadedness had return as well. She heard a tap on her door, and she rolled the window down and sees Diego standing there.

“Move over to the next seat. I’ll take you home. Pacho is waiting for you there,” Diego softly ordered.

She stared at him in suspicion first, before slowly crawling over the center console, and sitting in the passenger seat. He gets in and started the car, after making sure she was secured in her seat.

“I’m… sorry.” Diego suddenly stated after a minute.

“Wow. Did that taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth?” She asked bitterly.

“Yes. It did actually,” He answered shortly.

“Thanks. I guess. You know… that I’m not trying to take him from you, right? If… when… he decides he doesn’t want me anymore, I’ll go. I’m not… here to ruin what the 2 of you have,” She quietly commented, staring out the window.

“I know…,” He responded. “Though… I have a feeling that you are going to be around for long time. The last girl he was with, he never brought her to the house. Never got her flowers. He likes you, that much I can tell. Which was why… I got territorial. Which was unwarranted. I can’t say that we will be best friends, but I will try to be less of an ass.”

“Okay. That works. Was Pacho pissed that I took his car?” She asked wanting to change the subject.

“Pissed? Concerned is more like it. This is his favorite. His baby,” Diego snorted, as they pulled up to her house.

“Oops.” She said quietly, a small snicker slipping out.

As the car came to a stop, she stepped out to see Pacho, waiting for her on the steps. He looked up at her, as she stepped forward. As his eyes locked onto hers, she felt her heart race a bit. ‘Damnit, Henri.’

She gently stepped passed him to unlock her door and walked inside without saying anything to him.

She made her way to her kitchen to get a glass of water, and some pain medicine. She swallowed the meds quickly before chugging down some water. When she finished, she noticed Pacho standing before her.

“Diego told me…everything. We spoke earlier. Hopefully, now we can all live somewhat peacefully with one another,” Pacho began.

As much as she wanted to believe that, her doubts and insecurities threatened to raise their ugly heads. She leaned against the kitchen counter behind her, gazing at the kitchen tile. Pacho moved to stand before her, and gently cupped her face with his hands, silently asking her to look up.

She does so slowly, hesitantly, biting her lip nervously.

“What’s the matter, my sweet?” He asked concerned.

“Diego… he made some points though. There is no need for you to dote over me when I’ve already agreed to do what you want. Your deal is as good as done, once the brothers have typed it up. So, why bother with me?” She questioned, her tone serious.

“I dote over you because I wish to. How many times do I have to tell you, that I find you absolutely gorgeous? Extremely breathtaking? A goddess? I’m with you, because I like you,” He praised. “Maybe I am being somewhat selfish in that I also want to learn about your every secret. Your beautiful, and charming. Smart. Witty. You have a dark side to you, that intrigues me greatly. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

He doesn’t allow her to answer as he pressed his lips to her. Her hands slowly wrapped around his back, as one of his slid down her side.

“This dress is sexy, but... I feel like it’ll look better on the floor,” He whispered against her lips.

His hand on her side, grabbed a handful of her dress, bunching it up as he began to pull at it.

They continued to kiss until they were gasping for breath and had to pull away.

“I want you to come with me to meet with the Gallardo. We’ll be going to Panama. It’ll just be me and a few others,” Pacho requested in a whisper.

“Why? What do you need me for?” She quietly asked, curious.

“I want you by my side. Simple as that,” Pacho answered. “What do you say?”

She started to answer when her phone rang. “Hold that thought.” She said pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hello?” She spoke into the kitchen phone.

“Hey. It’s me,” Came Javier’s voice.

“Hi. What’s up? It’s like 1am,” She said with concern.

“We got Gacha. Earlier today. We… we killed him,” He announced with a sigh.

“What? Oh my god! That’s… that’s amazing!” She congratulated. “But uh… shouldn’t you be out celebrating? Drinking? Sex with a random woman?”

As she spoke, Pacho came up behind her, and pressed kisses to the back and side of her neck.

“Thought about it… but uh… didn’t quite feel like it, I guess. I mean. I have been drinking, just not at a bar,” He responded, somewhat hesitantly.

“Javi. What’s wrong? This is a win. One step closer to Escobar, yeah?” She contended, somewhat confused by his tone.

“I uhh. Do you… do you ever think about us?” Javi inquired.

She sighed at that question, while also attempting to get Pacho to stop with his ministrations that were slowly getting bolder. His hand had slipped under her skirt and were softly massaging her inner thigh.

“How much have you had to drink Javi?” She questioned.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Javier asked back, offended.

“You don’t talk about feelings. Unless you’ve had a few. Remember, that’s how you broke up with me? Got shitfaced and told me that you saw our relationship heading nowhere,” She replied somewhat bitterly.

“…. What if I said that I was lying? That I do see something with you?” Javi inquired after a moment.

“I’d say that I would rather have this conversation when you’re sober and in front of me. Listen. Go sleep honey. I’m proud of you. Call me when you’re sober,” She answered before slowly hanging up.

She gently leaned back into Pacho’s chest with a heavy sigh. “Is Diego still outside?”

“No. Sent him home with Navegante,” Pacho murmured as he slowly began to unzip the back of her dress.

She pulled away then and began walking toward the stairs. “Good. Come upstairs then.”

He followed behind her and as they stepped into her room, she kicked off her shoes. She stepped into her bathroom for a moment to wash off her makeup before anything else.

When she stepped back out into her room, Pacho was sitting on her bed, sans shoes and socks. She slowly slipped the dress off from around her shoulders, before doing a little wiggle as she pulled it down her hips.

She stood in front of him in just her underwear and straddled his hips a moment later. She stared at the shirt he wore, a shirt that was 3 different colors. Not exactly the best looking in her opinion.

“How much… do you like this shirt?” She coyly asked, pulling at the collar with an index finger.

“It’s… alright. Why?” He inquired squinting his eyes at her in suspicion.

She simply reached over to her bedside table, and after a momentary struggle of trying to find it blindly, she found her pocketknife. She flipped it opened and gently held it at the collar of his shirt. She bit her bottom lip softly as she held his shirt firmly in her left hand. She dragged the knife down, the blade slowly ripping the fabric.

Once there was a decent tear in the shirt, she set the knife back down on the table. She then began to pull at the tear, firmly, shredding the shirt down the middle.

The entire time that was going on, Pacho watched her curiously, and was only slightly concerned when she pulled out the knife.

“So, I take it, you didn’t like the shirt?” Pacho joked once she had finished shredding it and was shoving it off his shoulders.

“It’s… it was ugly honey. I’m sorry. But… you can pull off many looks, but this… This is a no,” She slowly responded pressing a small kiss along his collar.

He laughed loudly at her response and just nodded his head. “Understandable. Just know that I can and will get you back for it. Though I will agree. It wasn’t my best.”

She giggled and sighed before sadly stating, “I’m… super tired… I would love to continue this, but I may pass out on you.”

“It’s okay. We can do some catching up in Panama if you wish?” Pacho offered kissing her slowly.

“Yeah. I like the sound of that,” She agreed before getting up to go grab an old band t-shirt to put on and take off her bra.

She could hear Pacho undressing further as well, and once she was in the shirt and her underwear, she turned to see him in just his boxers. They slipped under the covers, and Pacho quietly told her about his day, laying on his side, his head propped up on his arm. When he mentioned the horse ranch she froze.

“Wait. You… you have a ranch… with… with horses???? And you… never told me?” She asked with wide eyes staring at him.

“Yes. Would you like me to take you there sometime this week?” Pacho asked surprised.

“Uh. Yes! I love horses! Grandparents had a horse ranch, and it was the best part of my summers as a kid,” She explained excitedly. “If I had known about the ranch, I wouldn’t have gotten bored. I’d been harassin’ you to take me every day.”

He smiled sadly at her, and he apologized softly, “I’m sorry you got bored. Not going to lie, I’m used to women who love sitting around and doing nothing.”

His hand softly stroked her side as he spoke. She smiled in response, reaching up to run her hand along his jaw.

“It’s not a big deal honey. I’ve been told I’m like a husky, need to be walked 15 times a day or I’ll lose my mind,” She lightly joked.

“Then I’ll make sure you have plenty to do,” Pacho assured as he pulled her closer to him.

She snuggled into his chest, and they slowly fell asleep together.

The next morning, was a blur as they got dressed and ate a quick breakfast. She definitely packed up all her snacks, because she refused to leave her junk food behind.

As they stepped outside, her neighbor, Mrs. Garcia, said hello. She waved at her distractedly as Pacho opened the car door for her.

As they drove out to his house, he mentioned that she could have a car to claim as her own to use. “Just not this one. This one is… special.”

They spent the day at his house and planned a time to go see the horse ranch the next day. It was going to be in the afternoon, once Gilberto and Miguel left after their meeting.

The day passed normally, there were no arguments between her and Diego. They even had pleasant conservations throughout the day.

The next morning was a bit chilly, and she threw on a large fleece cardigan over her shorts and tank. As she walked around, she ran into Navegante and politely asked if the brothers had arrived yet.

Navegante informed her, “Yes, they’ve been here for about an hour now.”

She nodded her head in understanding before making her way into the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea with honey, before grabbing 3 more cups and filling them with black coffee. She threw sugar packets into one pocket of her cardigan and different flavors of creamer packs into the other.

She made her way upstairs, gradually, and into Pacho’s office. The three were standing around the table pouring over a map. She cleared her throat to alert their attention to her.

“Sorry to interrupt. Thought some fresh coffee might help?” She offered holding them up.

Pacho smiled somewhat tightly but said thank you. She sets the cups down, pulling out the packets of sugar and creamer as her hands became free.

She glanced down at the map, which was of Mexico, and found herself looking at it confused. Most of Mexico was marked off into sectors; the various different territories. Everywhere except one place.

“Guadalajara, yes?” She confirmed without much thought. “Why is the Baja not marked off?”

Miguel cleared his throat before answering, “Guerra. Opium dealer. He owns the Baja. Doesn’t like cocaine.”

“But Gallardo’s probably made him offer right?” She guessed looking at all 3 of them.

“Yes. He probably has why?” Pacho questioned.

“You said it yourself. Gallardo’s arrogant. Probably thinks that if he controls all of Mexico, he has you in a checkmate,” Blix began to explain. “Make Guerra a better offer. Or as Marlon Brando would say, ‘Make him an offer he can’t refuse.’ It’s what I would do.”

Gilberto smirked at her before grabbing his phone and handing it and a number on a post-it note.

“Then do it.” His tone was challenging, like he was daring her.

She took both from him slowly, took a deep breath, and called the number. ‘I’m being tested. Well. Let’s see how I do then.”

The phone rang for a moment before someone finally answered.

“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Guerra please?” She politely requested.

“Mr. Guerra isn’t available righ-“ the man began before Blix cut him off.

“Listen. As someone who is clearly an overpaid secretary, I’m calling bullshit. Please tell Guerra that a representative of the Cali Cartel wishes to speak to him. Now,” She informed him firmly.

A few minutes passed before another voice, older and gravellier, answered, “Guerra speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello. My name is Blix. My… associates have heard rumors that Gallardo offered to bring you into the cocaine business, yes?” She began and before letting him answer continued. “We wish to make you a better offer?”

“Oh? Is that so? What could you possibly offer me?” Guerra inquired sounding somewhat agitated.

“I’m willing to bet that Gallardo only offered about 10% of the profits. We’d like to give you something a little more than chump change,” She offered as she leaned against the table, taking a sip of her tea.

“50%” Guerra stated.

“Guerra. I may have been born at night, but it certainly wasn’t last night. 50% is too high and you know it. Don’t insult my intelligence,” She lightly warned. “20%”

“Hm. 40%” He threw back.

“30%.” She responded hoping to trick him into going lower

“25%.” He threw out before he tried to take it back, stumbling over his words. “N-Wa-“

“Deal.” She confirmed before he could say anything. “One of my associates will be in contact with you to iron out the details, within the next day or so.”

“You are a good businesswoman, I must say. It’s not often I fumble over a deal,” Guerra complimented.

“For some reason, I just don’t believe that. You knew I wasn’t going to go much higher than 20, you just wanted to see if you could get me to agree to something higher,” She responded ignoring the compliment. “I would also like to inform you Mr. Guerra, that you should forget about your travel plans to Panama. Wouldn’t want to cause any… conflicts of interest.”

“Ah. An intelligent woman indeed. Good, you’ll need that while working with the cartel,” He stated. “Gallardo isnt going to be pleased by this.”

“Gallardo isn’t my concern. Do know this Mr. Guerra. Gallardo will probably at some point retaliate. He’s a prideful man. It’s in his nature. But what he does to you, will be nothing in comparison to what we will do if you try to betray us,” She cautioned.

“Are you… are you threatening me?” He accused.

“No. Warning. Because... Gallardo will take revenge, sure. But Cali? No. Revenge is petty. Beneath us,” She stated darkly. “Accidents however… Accidents can and do happen every day. Like… fires, gas leaks, that sort of thing can happen anywhere, like at your restaurant, your home/ranch, that shitty lil town you’ve proclaimed yourself as king, or your acres of opium. Would be such a shame… if anything happened to your livelihood.”

It was quiet, but she could hear him breathing, “Understood.”

“Good! As I said, earlier, someone will be in touch to finetune the details. Have a lovely day, Mr. Guerra,” She ended the call with a perky tone.

She handed the phone back to Gilberto and said, “That wasn’t too hard. Enjoy your coffees.”

She walked away with her tea, toward her room, to get dressed for the afternoon.

Pacho watched her leave with an impressed smirk plastered on his face, his eyes dark as he watched her leave.

“Did that… really just happen?” Miguel asked in disbelief.

“It did indeed. I told you. She has a darkness to her, and I love seeing it,” Pacho grinned, lighting a cigarette. “It was also her way of speeding up the meeting so we can go to the ranch.”

The brothers laughed and soon enough their meeting had ended. As soon as it was over, he walked down to Blix’s room. He leaned against the door-jam as he watched her get ready. She was slipping on a pair of cowboy boots when she noticed him standing there.

“Oh? Done so soon?” She greeted happily, walking over to him.

As she stepped up to him, he pulled her close and kissing her passionately.

“Wow. What uh… what was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” She wondered breathlessly, when they pulled apart a moment later.

“You are very sexy. Even moreso when threatening men. Couldn’t help myself,” He whispered to her.

She shook her head at him before excitedly asking, “So the ranch? Horses?”

He nodded, laughing at her as she bounced up and down in front of him, like a child.

They made their way down to his car, and off they went to the ranch. The ranch was only 20 minutes from his home and as they pulled up her excitement ramped up.

She was out the door before he could even turn the car off. She rushed up to the stalls and began excitedly talking to both the horses and the stable hands that were working.

Pacho slowly walked up behind her and listened to her coo to the horses as she ran her hands down their faces.

They spent several hours there, half of it spent with her in awe of each horse, and the other half was her riding around the stables on some of the horses.

Lunch was served late there, and as they ate, he commented, “If I had known the ranch would make you so happy, I would’ve brought you sooner. Don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much.”

“I smile? What do you mean?” She asked confused as she looked at him taking a sip of the daiquiri that he insisted on making her.

“I mean, that since the second we pulled up, you haven’t stopped smiling. You smiled even when Rowdy tried to eat your shirt. It’s quite beautiful to see you so happy,” He further explained with a fond smile.

She looked down, a light blush gracing her cheeks.

“You mentioned last night that your grandparents had a ranch? What happened there?” Pacho asked curiously.

“The short story? My grandparents died, and my mother didn’t want to deal with it,” She explained quietly as looked away.

“And the long story?” Pacho lightly probed, his hand reaching out to hold hers.

“My sisters and I… we loved it. It was the best 2 to 3 weeks of our summer. Spending our time at the ranch. Training horses. My grandfather had show and race horses. We would trade off each day on who we would work with on what.” She began thinking about to it fondly.

“When they died, my mother wanted nothing to do with it. Sold off the horses. Fired the workers. Cut down the apple orchard we had opened for the public to go apple picking. The barns have been hit hard with storms, and my mother didn’t care to fix them. If she could she would’ve sold the land as well,” She explained rather sadly.

“Why didn’t she?” Pacho inquired.

“Grandparents left it in their will that the ranch was to go to us. That when we were old enough, we could decide who would run it. That the land could only be sold by us if we all agreed to. So, my mother found a loophole around it. Can’t have much of a ranch if there’s nothing there,” She concluded with a half shrug.

“I’m sorry your mother stole that from you and your siblings,” Pacho consoled as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to it.

She didn’t respond beyond shrugging and letting out a small sigh.

“So. Tonight we leave for Panama yeah?” Blix changed the subject.

He nodded his head, and reported, “Yes. We leave on a late flight, check into our hotel, and then meet with Gallardo tomorrow at noon. In fact, we should probably head back, and pack up.”

They did just that, got home, packed, and she met a few other members, like Salcedo, and a couple of guards going with them.

The flight to Panama was swift, and soon they were in their hotel room, resting. Morning came around, and as they made their way to the hotel where Gallardo was at, Pacho made a quick explanation.

“When we get there, if you could please wait downstairs for 20 minutes. I doubt the meeting shall take very long, but I would prefer it if you did not get involved any more than you have. I’ll have a guard with you, just go shopping or something. I’ll come retrieve you,” He informed her as they pulled up to the hotel.

She raised an eyebrow and decided she wasn’t going to argue about this, right now. She got out and with her newly grown shadow in the form of a 30 something year old man named Thierry; she wandered the shops.

She came across a jewelry store and waltzed in, looking at everything bored. Something eventually caught her eye as she made her way over to the men’s jewelry.

As she looked at it, a small smile grew on her face. A store assistant came over and asked if he could help her.

“Yes. Can I see that necklace please?” She politely asked pointing at it.

He reached in and grabbed the necklace, displaying it in the palm of his hand.

She inspected it closely and hesitantly said, “Umm. That necklace has a small scratch on it… would there happen to be anything similar to it?”

A manager happened to be walking by and overheard the conversation. He inspected the necklace and spotted the imperfection before telling the employee to put it with the discount items somewhat annoyed.

“Come this way ma’am. I’m sure this one over here will please you greatly,” He schmoozed in a hoity manner, giving her a look.

He brought her over to another display case and pulled out a similar necklace. She nodded her head, stating ”Yeah. This one is much better. How much?”

“$647.32. In American dollars.” He answered in a mockingly sad tone.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope that her tips from the brothers in it. She counted out 650 and told him to keep the change. He tightly smiled and boxed it up before handing it to her.

She rolled her eyes at his attitude and made her way back out to her guard.

“Just because your item got fucked up, doesn’t mean you need to get all snooty about it,” She muttered under her breath annoyed.

She continued exploring, getting slowly more and more annoyed with her babysitter, since he kept trying to steer her over to the elevators. She eventually made her way through a large crowd and lost him after a moment.

She noticed as she walked further on that there was an art auction going on in one of the conference rooms that was open to the public.

As she strolled that way, she ran into 2 men, one of whom she had seen pictures of.

“Mr. Gallardo. That was quick, I hope Pacho wasn’t too cruel with you,” She greeted as she blinked at him.

“No. Not at all miss?” He prompted.

“Blix. I hear you enjoy art; would you like to join me in viewing the auction?” She politely asked before turning to the other man with him. “Hello. You can join us as well Mr.?”

“Amado. I’ll just.. wait here. Thanks.” He declined with a nod of his head.

Felix and she made their way into the auction and began looking over the art. Blix stared at some items with intensity, and Felix who did look at the art, was more intrigued by the woman next to him.

“So, you are with the Cali? A bit odd for a federal agent, no?” Felix questioned, looking at her curiously.

“Hm. It’s… an interesting arrangement let’s just go with that. Besides. They are not my concern. Not my division as it were,” She replied meeting his eyes.

“Yes. I heard you were in art crimes,” Felix acknowledged as they made their way through a section of impressionist art.

“Yes. Art is quite fascinating. Horace once said that a picture was a poem without words,” Blix noted. “That picture in my opinion can mean anything. There’s always something that speaks to you. Whether it’s religious, political, or personal. Art is a reflection of you.”

They stopped near a canvas that had a weeping willow tree, the vines covered in ice.

“Take this for example. To you it’s simply a tree. To me… it reminds me of my childhood home. We had willows everywhere,” She said as an example. “Art, no matter the format, is an extension of you. Extension of your personality.”

He smiled at her and nodded, and before he could respond, they heard a throat clear behind them. As they turned to it, Pacho stood there, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Uh-oh. It appears I’m in trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gallardo,” She whispered conspiratorially holding her hand out to shake.

He took it and instead of shaking it, kissed the back of it. “The pleasure was mine. I do hope Mr. Herrera brings you out to our meetings more often.”

He walked away and met up with Amado, before disappearing.

Blix quietly followed Pacho who she could tell was fuming. His shoulders were tensed, and he was breathing roughly.

They made their way back to their hotel in silence. They even left that night instead of staying like they originally planned.

As they stepped over the threshold of his home, she finally broke the tension, “Are you going to stay mad at me forever? Or are you going to finally tell me what’s wrong?”

“I had the guard with you for a reason. He was there to protect you. Instead of doing what I asked you not only ignored it, but put yourself onto Gallardo’s radar, for no reason” He fumed, glaring at her.

“I am a federal agent. I can take care of myself. I do not need a guard or protection. I can protect myself quite well. Been doing so for a very long time,” She reminded him.

“As for Gallardo, I ran into him by accident. I didn’t seek him out. I figured he knew who I was, which he did, and I was just being polite. That’s it,” She reassured.

He took a deep breath, looking away. “I don’t like you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. If he had decided to retaliate against me, using you…”

She stepped up to him, placing her hands on his chest, and soothed, “But he didn’t. I’m still here. Annoyed that we didn’t stay in Panama, especially after I got you something, but still here.”

He placed his hands on her hips, and said, “Oh? You did? What?”

“Not giving it to you now. You were a brat. I’ll give it to ya when you’ve earned it,” She teased as she walked away.

Pacho raised an eyebrow at that comment and chased after her, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.

“A brat eh? Takes one to know I think,” Pacho mocked, smacking her on the ass.

“Really? Did you seriously just?” She asked in disbelief, before smacking his butt in return. “Turnabout is fair play.”

He carried her upstairs, both of them laughing at each other, before he decided to make it up to her all night long.

A few days had passed, and she still had yet to give Pacho the necklace she got him. He was convinced it was a watch. It wasn’t until a package arrived for her at Pacho’s house that she decided to give him the gift. Especially when she realized that the gift was from Gallardo. It was the painting of the willow tree that they had looked at together.

The painting came with a note, “It was a pleasure speaking you, my lady. I hope we can talk more soon.”

Pacho was annoyed by its presence. So, she pulled out the velvet box that held his necklace in it, hoping it would soothe things over.

He was sitting in at his desk in his office when she walked in. She moved over to him and gently sat in his lap, presenting the box to him. He opened it slowly.

“A crocodile?” Pacho questioned confused.

“I don’t know jackshit about watches, so don’t ever expect one from me. But I do know that in most ancient cultures, the crocodile is one of the few animals that was revered. They’ve been worshipped longer than God. Deified for well over a millennium,” She began to explain as she took it out of the box.

“They represent duality. Tough enough to withstand bullets, but do not do well with criticism. They are precise with every move they make and see opportunities where others cannot. They are cunning, strong, brave, and dependable. That’s what I see when I look at you,” She described as she hooked it around his neck.

“So, my primordial being, do not bother yourself with the opinions of sheep or the thoughts of lesser men. I certainly don’t,” She requested with a kiss. “I want you to wear it for good luck. Protection.”

Her phone at that point began to ring, and she stared at the number slightly confused, for she did not recognize it. She answered it after a moment. “Hello?”

“Hello Miss Lage. This is Felix Gallardo,” Came the response.

“Oh. Mr. Gallardo, how are you?” She replied turning to Pacho with a wide eye look. His returning look was with narrowed eyes, and a tense jaw.

“I simply wanted to make sure that painting arrived safely,” He informed softly.

“Yes. Yes, it did. I was hoping to be able to thank you in person, but this works too. It’s quite lovely,” She thanked, wondering where this was heading.

“Good. I must say, I was a bit hesitant to get it for you, since you looked at it so sadly, but then I saw a glimmer of something, that… I could relate to,” Felix admitted. “I saw a longing. For home. I often get that way myself thinking about Sinaloa.”

“Home? Not necessarily. Simpler times, more like. Haven’t missed home in quite some time,” She lightly argued.

“Hm. It is rather interesting, though. The things we would do for those we consider home. Safe. Like threatening an opium dealer to cut a deal for your lover. Guerra said he spoke to a charming young lady. Would hate for anything to befall said lady, for sticking her nose into business she does not belong in,” He vaguely threatened.

“Well. Mr. Gallardo. I would simply say that I can take care of myself. I’ve dealt with plenty of villains, Felix, and I hate to break it to you, but I’ve faced scarier. Have a lovely day,” She hung up the phone after that.

“Villains? You mean… your mother?” Pacho tried to clarify.

“Let’s just say, ruining a ranch, was nowhere the worst thing she ever did to me,” She whispered vaguely gesturing at her face.

“I see. Well then. I guess it’s a good thing you are mine. Anyone tries to harm you, they’d be dead,” He promised after a moment of silence, fully understanding what she was implying.

She smiled sweetly at him, and they spent the rest of the day talking about his work. He was giving her a glimpse into his world and how it worked. That to her was a level of trust she wasn’t expecting, but she appreciated it, nonetheless.

Neither of them were aware of the chaos that was about to unfold, due to the events going on in Medellin.

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea

Part three

Pairing:Javier Peña x DEA! reader

Rating:Uh, PG-13? What are the ratings?

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Um, tbh this is my favorite and the one we start the Drama™ with.

Warnings:rape reference,violence, (murdering?), sexual talk, prostitution. If I’m missing anything let me know.

Summary:You go to Medellín for the Narco meeting. Things get complicated when Helena doesn’t arrive.

Part one Part two

Colonel Horacio Carrillo is waiting for you at the Carlos Holguin School, his base of operations, once you get to Medellín. Javi drives you all in the OGV (this time a white Van) with you in the back and Steve riding shotgun. Javier gets out, you and Steve rounding the car as the Colonel greets him.

“La inteligencia que me diste estaba en su punto. Los traquetos se van a reunir en las Margaritas” (Your intel was good. The traquetos (drug dealers) are gathering in Las Margaritas)

 You still can’t figure out how Javier was able to convince the Ambassador to let all of you come without more than a day’s notice.

You get closer, Carrillo turning his head towards your direction. Javier sighs.

“I want you to meet our new DEA, Steve Murphy”

The Colonel smirks. “Carne fresca” (Fresh meat)

Both look at each other, and you roll your eyes. 

“No sea idiota coronel” (Don’t be an idiot colonel)

Steve, once again, looks at you surprised. He may not speak Spanish but he’s sure he knows what idiota means.

Horacio laughs at your comment and lets a heavy hand fall on your shoulder. “No sea llorona Bera, hay que darle una buena bienvenida al nuevo!” (Don’t be a crybaby Bera, we have to give the new guy a good welcome!)

You shrug off his hand and get closer to Murphy in a protective stance. He’s a good guy, that much you’ve noticed with so little time he’s spent with you. Steve bumps you playfully as if saying thank you. You bump him back.

After that, everyone climbs into their respective cars and drive straight to the fancy hotel where the narcos meeting was going to be held.

You get a room along with the three of them, your Canon AE-1 hanging heavy on your neck as you climb up the stairs. Steve has a Fujica, and you guess he will be taking as many photos as he can. You’ll try and do the same, but the ones you’re taking will be staying with you and his are going to the ID guys.

Steve gets closer to the window and immediately starts snapping pictures as the narcos keep coming and getting out of their fancy vehicles. You do the same, but from the other angle.

You can see Carlos Lehder, the Ochoa brothers (and you now realize this probably has to do something with her sister being kidnapped) and Fernando Galeano “The Wolfman”, but you’re surprised when Gonzalo Rodriguez Gacha “The Mexican” gets out of another car, his face not very happy as they close the red door behind him.

“Is that Gacha?” Javi asks. You nod beside him, his voice sounding as surprised as you feel.

“I’ve never seen him with other traffickers”

The colonel is right, of course. Gacha is known for being a lone man regarding business, a paranoid man who doesn’t trust anyone. Him being there doesn’t mean anything good.

Finally, Pablo Escobar and Gustavo Gaviria arrive in a brown Mercedes convertible. Horacio orders Steve to take pictures of him and something urges you to answer that you’re not his soldiers to be bossed around, but keep your mouth shut.

Reluctantly, you admit in your insides that the intel Javi got from Helena was great, and you can feel in your guts that something big is going down today.

Hours pass and you realize that the meeting is over once the hookers are called up. The four of you get out and drive to the meeting point with Helena, and even if you’re not very fond of her you pray that she’s okay and got the work done.

-

“She should be here by now”

Javier is pacing outside with Carrillo standing beside one of the cars, Steve partially lying on the front while you’re inside with your head hanging out the window.

“You think she slipped?”

Javi shakes his head. “Nah, she’s no dummy”

Horacio bends over the car’s chest and laces his fingers together. “Maybe she’s getting pretty for you”

You snort and Javi gives you a dirty look but nods towards him. “Yeah”

More time passes, and if you’re honest you’re starting to get worried for the girl. One of Carrillo’s men gets close to him and mutters something that makes your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach.

“Vimos a la chica irse hace un buen rato” (we saw the girl leaving a long time ago)

You open the door and jump off, getting close to them as Carrillo speaks to Javi.

“They’re telling me the girl left a long time ago, she’s already dead”

Your partner looks concerned as he kneads his shoulder, a frown well pronounced showing in his face. He turns around and shakes his head.

“No, they wouldn’t kill her at the hotel”

“Then they killed her somewhere else, she knew the risks” you hate how nonchalant Horacio sounds, how easy he speaks about an innocent girl being dead because she decided to help you.

“If we’re going back, we go back now” Steve intervenes, and you’re grateful he has more human sense than Horacio. 

Javi gets close to him, muttering, “Necesito que la encuentres” (I need you to find her)

Horacio gives him a look, but answers. “Conozco un sicario, si te interesa. Quieres?” (I know a sicario, if you’re interested. You OK with that?)

Your blood runs cold as Javi nods, “yo voy” (I’ll go with you) 

You get close to both of them and grip Javi’s arm. “Yo ir�� contigo también” (I’ll go with you too)

Before Javi begins his protest, Carrillo points towards Steve. 

“Qué hacemos con Carne Fresca?” (What do we do with Fresh Meat?)

Javi glares at you. “Necesito que te quedes con él” (I need you to stay with him)

Disagreeing, you shake your head and move ahead of him. Horacio looks at how you walk towards his vehicle with a grin on his face, and you hear Javi telling Steve something from the distance.

 Shortly after, they’re following after you and climb into the car. 

-

You get to the place where the sicario is supposed to be and decide to stay inside the car as Javi and Carrillo along with one of his men go up to a balcony.

 Even if you’re not there, the sounds of a man getting chocked with a plastic bag reach your ears and Carrillo’s voice shouting drowns them a little bit. 

You clench your eyes shut as footsteps can be heard and shortly after, a gunshot resonates through the night. 

The sicario must have said something interesting because, without a word, both of them climb into the car and drive like crazy to another part of the city.

Horacio hits the brakes out of nowhere and the tires squeal in protest. Javier turns to look at you from the copilot seat, frowning.

“No me quedaré aqui Javier, ni lo pienses” (I won’t stay here Javier, don’t even think about it)

He lets out an exasperated sigh and gets out, his grip hard on the gun at his hands. 

Carrillo’s men go first, getting rid of the ones guarding the entrance. Then, Horacio goes on the other side, with Javi after him and you close behind. You climb the stairs silently, as close to the wall as the small space lets you, one of the soldiers leads you upstairs.

Chaos ensues when he fires, and shouts can be heard all over the place. Javier and Horacio start shooting the men quickly and soon it’s only you who are there. You turn around to Javi, and nausea invades your senses.

Helena is lying there, naked and beaten as she whimpers. Her face is bloody and bruises are starting to form all over her body. You have to cover your mouth to keep a gasp from escaping. You’re amazed at how beautiful she is, even after all of this, and a sense of admiration fills your chest. 

Javier takes off his vest and kneels to cover her with it. With tender hands, he holds her face and says her name.

“Helena? It’s me”

She doesn’t answer, and you can feel the guilt already eating at Javi.

“Te voy a sacar de aquí okay? Te lo prometo” (I’m going to take you out of here okay? I promise)

He lifts Helena in his arms and you trail behind him with your gun held up, Horacio walking behind you.

Nobody says a word as he takes her to the ambulance and you drive off to the hospital. Carrillo talks to his men by radio, telling them where you’re heading to and orders them to go there. Steve is still with them, so you guess you’ll find him there too.

You get to the hospital and Javi takes her to the ER, but they don’t let him go inside. Before his temper gets you in trouble, you put your hand on his shoulder and speak.

“Yo soy su hermana” (I’m her sister)

They nod without any protest and let you go inside with them. Javier sees you go and cocks his head in a silent thanks. 

Half an hour passes before anything else happens, but a doctor gets close to you in the waiting room to tell you she’s stable.

“Puede entrar a verla si lo desea, está consciente” (You can go see her if you want to, she’s conscious)

You nod and smile at her, “muchas gracias, iré en seguida” (thank you very much, I’ll go straight away)

Standing up, your muscles protest for being tense for so long, and you walk to the room the doctor pointed at.

Slowly, you open the door trying to avoid disturbing her, but her head turns towards your direction once a creaking sound echoes through the room.

“Hola Helena”, you greet her, “soy Bera, la compañera de Javier” (Hello Helena, I’m Bera, Javier’s (DEA) partner)

Your voice is soft, and you try to be as careful as possible so as not to startle her. You walk to his side and sit down at the chair beside his bed. She tries to give you a smile, but it becomes a pained expression caused by the bruises in her face.

“Tú eres Bera, eh?” (So you’re Bera, uh?) her voice is hoarse, probably because she screamed at some point. Your heart clenches at that. 

“Si, soy yo. Cómo te sientes?” (Yes, it’s me. How are you feeling?)

You feel stupid just as the words leave your mouth. How is she supposed to feel after what she just went through?

Despite this, she chuckles. “Como mierda, pero sobreviviré” (Like shit, but I’ll survive)

A strained smile reaches your lips. She’s a strong woman, that much you can notice. Regret invades your throat at how unjustified your resentment towards her was.

“Me aseguraré de que salgas de este país, te lo juro” (I’ll make sure you get out of this country, I swear)

She doesn’t say anything but nods, grateful. An awkward silence covers the room but you don’t want to leave her alone. The smell of desinfectant makes your nose itch, spots in the curtains making you uncomfortable. The covers of her bed are completely pristine though, and that reassures you a little.

Just as she’s about to fall asleep again, she mutters something.

“Eres muy especial para Javier, sabías?” (You’re very special to Javier, you know?)

Her words leave you speechless, and she keeps going at the lack of an answer.

“Contrario a lo que pareces pensar, yo no significo mucho para él. Nada más allá de una amistad tal vez” (Contrary to what you seem to think, I don’t mean much to him. Nothing more than a friendship maybe) Her words have an undertone of bitterness, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out.

“Siempre que yo intentaba algo más con él, me rechazaba. Al principio pensé que era porque simplemente no estaba interesado en una relación,” she shrugs, the movement tense and clearly painful “pero aquella vez que me estaba cogiendo y dijo tu nombre? supe que era porque ya le pertenecía a alguien” (Every time I tried something with him, he rejected me. At first, I thought he just wasn’t interested in a relationship, but that one time he was fucking me and he said your name? I knew it was because he was already someone else’s)

You freeze, partially because of how easy she speaks about it and partially because of the actual words that just left his mouth.

“Yo-Yo no-no..” you stutter, “estás segura de que dijo mi nombre?” (I-I don’t-don’t… are you sure that he said my name?)

She chuckles at that. “Pues me acabas de decir que tú eres Bera, y si lo susurra en mi oído cuando se está corriendo no hay manera de que haya escuchado mal” (Well you just told me that you’re Bera, and if he whispers it at my ear when he’s coming there’s no way I heard it wrong)

Heat spreads through your cheeks and a flutter forms in your stomach at the (frankly hot) thought of Javi thinking about you as he came. But you don’t know if it means what you’d like, there’s no way to make sure unless Javi straight up tells you and he doesn’t even know you know.

You start freaking out in your head. Does he feel the same way about you? Was it just the heat of the moment? Are you gonna do anything about it? Why hasn’t he said anything!?

Ultimately, you decide not to do anything about it. If he wanted you to know he would have told you already. The thought hurts, but you can’t do much.

 You get out a pen from your jacket, rip a piece of paper from the notes at the bedside table and write your real name and the phone number from your house as well as your office one, handing it to Helena.

“Si alguna vez necesitas algo, llámame” (If you ever need something, call me)

She takes it from your hand and nods, folding it under her pillow. You stand up and go towards the door, but just as you’re about to get out, she speaks.

“Asegurate de que Javier esté bien” (Make sure Javier stays well)

Warmth spreads all over your body at her tone. You’re sure she doesn’t mean “keeping him safe”. Regardless of this, you nod.

“Siempre”(Always)

You close the door behind you and walk outside the hospital, conviction in every single one of your steps.

Javier is leaning in the bar at the streetside, Steve standing in front of him. It looks as if they just fought about something, Carrillo sitting at a chair behind Steve.

“I hope you know what that means” it’s the only thing you get to hear from the argument.

Javi then hands him a beer just as he walks towards the corner store, Steve taking a gulp of it. You get close to him and grab his arm.

“I’m sorry for leaving you behind”, you say. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way down here to just sit around and watch from the sidelines”

Both Carrillo and he snort at your comment, leaving you perplexed. Were they talking about that before you came?

“It’s okay Bera, not your fault”, his posture understanding as he grabs your hand and squeezes. 

You smile and turn to Javier. “She’ll be fine. I’ll help you get her the visa”

Javier nods. “Gracias” (thank you)

You go buy a soda and the three of you drink in silence for a moment.

“Qué sigue de esto, equipo Torbellino?” (What goes after this, Whirlpool team?) Carrillo breaks the silence from his seat. He smirks at you and you roll your eyes at the nickname he gave to both you and Javier, but repress a smile and you turn towards him.

The night starts to weight down on you, the events of the day catching up with your body. In spite of this, you straighten up at the change of subject and your breath comes out easier than before.

“A Cali” Javi says. (To Cali)

You smile. 

Tag list:

@dynphomaniac

@fioccodineveautunnale

@storiesofthefandomloversreblogs

@thisisthe-way 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Safety In Numbers (SpicyHoneyMustard, lemon)

Summary:  Red knows how to play the game. The only problem is, not everyone gets out unscathed.

Tags: SpicyHoneyMustard, Fontcest, Fellcest, Sibling Incest, Threesome, Background Kustard, Established Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LEMONY GOODNESS!!, Unhealthy Relationship, Unnamed Ship

Sequel to:

Showtime

Secret Garden

A Judicious Amount of Effort

Musically Inclined

Lest You Be Judged

Solo Act 

Appealing To Better Judgment

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Refuge.

That was what Toriel named the protected Monster settlement that rose up at the base of the mountain, for all the Monsters who either couldn’t or wouldn’t live in Ebott.

Red supposed if there was nothing else, they could all thank her for sparing them from whatever dumb shit Ass-gore would’ve called it, like New New Home.

Despite all the treaties and negotiations, there were plenty of Monsters still living there. Some found that once they set their feet on the grass, they were about as far away from the mountain as they cared to get. Some were plain afraid to live out amongst the Humans. And a fair few simply weren’t allowed to leave, their little laminated ID cards didn’t grant them clearance through the front gate. Monsters with LV, Monsters with an appearance that might be considered disturbing. Any Monster likely to hit a ten on the Human freak-o-meter wasn’t allowed out not yet, anyway. Made sense, really. If they scared the shit out of the Humies by going too fast, they’d be lucky if they only ended up chased back beneath the mountain and not used as potting soil.

Try telling that to the dumbfucks, though. Red kept an ear hole close to the ground for any incoming gossip and from what was coming down the line it looked like the Assholes of Asgore were using it as a recruiting point. Red suspected that they didn’t have only have the interest of one or two disgruntled folks.

Anyone with half a lick of sense should see through their bullshit, but if Red was supposed to count on any of the dipshits he knew underground having common sense, he might as well shove a bone through his own soul now and spare anyone else the trouble of dusting him.

Their real goal was to start the bloody war Asgore promised them all and if they managed it, well, it was gonna be a pretty damn short one. Magic was handy dandy, all right, but the Humans kinda outnumbered them a million to one. Hell, while they’d been down below twiddling their thumbs, the Humans figured out their own version of magic, one that was a fuckton more explosive than anything Monsters had on tap. If Red was a betting man, and he was, thanks, he knew which odds he was putting down on.

Red looked out the tinted window of the car driving him through the newly paved streets of Refuge, watching the scenery pass by. Much as he hated being chauffeured around, these days he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. Back when he was training in the guard, there was still some opportunity to skulk around. Strip away his uniform and its delta rune crest, and he was only another Monster with a shitty attitude wandering into Grillby’s for a drink.

Being Chosen took away any chance he had of wandering around unnoticed. Even if Red slipped away from Rus, his face was too well-known now and probably rated a solid six on the Humies freak-o-meter.

If he thought the chucklefucks throwing themselves at Rus’s feet begging for blessings were annoying, it was a damn sight worse when they tried that shit on him. As if he had any say in the way the Universe trundled on down the road. He wasn’t the one second in the queue to chat with the Angel, thanks, and none of the Divine had seen fit to give him their direct line.

Shame Edge didn’t let him fuck with them; a few broken fingers and a bruise or two might give them all a little peace, but eh, his bro was a spoilsport that way. His own fault for leaving the kid on his own years ago while he skulked off to join the guard, instead of sticking around to teach him what’s what. Edge’s code of morals didn’t line up so much with Red’s anymore and wasn’t that a bitch.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out, ignoring the sour look the driver gave him in the rearview mirror. They didn’t say a peep, though, kept whatever words they wanted to say locked up tight behind their tusks. Being Chosen did have a few perks other than risking his life and getting to spend plenty of quality time communing with Rus’s pussy.

Red lit the cigarette with a harsh rasp of his lighter, took a long drag of smoke and breathed it out as he leaned his skull against the cool window glass, watching the blurred landscape. The streets were lined with cheaply made carbon-copy houses, but there wasn’t a whole lotta room to complain about that. The first few months most of ‘em spent huddled in patched-up tents given to them by the reluctant Human government, miserable in the spring rain and mud that tried to suck off your shoes with every step. Far as Red was concerned, all Monsters should be damned grateful for a house to call their own and if someone wanted their place shaped like a fucking fish, they were gonna have to wait their turn.

Yeah, lots of Monsters struggled when they hit sunshine, trying to wrap their minds around everything that happened. Red wasn’t one of them. He’d been Chosen only days after his boots hit the ground, but he’d spent some time out in the mudholes, searching out threats against his freshly appointed Judge. He’d learned a few useful tricks before putting on a uniform and they sure did come in handy from time to time.

These days, Red didn’t get out as much anymore. Maybe if Rus had more Chosen than only him and Edge, he could’ve kept up with it, but it hadn’t worked out that way. The kid needed him, all of him, and that was that.

Inconvenient, yeah, but probably just as well. Kept him from having to hold the lid down on his boiling need to shiv anyone who fucking dared touch what was his. He played nice enough when it came to all the unity mumbo jumbo bullshit, the Judge was an avatar of the Angel, the Judge belonged to the people, yeah, sure, he’d toe the party line.

But when it came to laying hands on his boy there was only one other Monster with the right. He was as much Red’s as Rus was and that’d be true until the day Red shivered to dust.

So, yeah, he couldn’t do the footwork himself anymore, eh, sucks to suck. Instead, he was forced to rely on other Monsters to keep him rolling in that sweet, sweet info. He’d vetted all of them himself, checked into every detail of their lives all the way back to the day they dropped from their mama’s cooch. Every single one of them was loyal as fuck to the Angel and as willing to spy on each other as they were anyone else, and that right there helped weed out most of the trouble. Wasn’t a perfect method, but it usually worked pretty well and let Red keep his fingers hooked into a few pies. That was, whenever he could pull 'em out of Rus's desserts.

Right now, all his people were working overtime, trying to dig up some dirt on how those fuckers managed to get into the cafeteria to take a pot shot at Rus. When they finally got something concrete, Red planned to deal with it personally, and if Rus ended up giving him a Judging look over it, he didn’t much give a shit. He was Chosen for the Judge, to protect them in every way possible and if the Angel was having second thoughts about it, She could stop by and deal with it herself.

None of that had shit to do with what he was up to today.

The house his car pulled up in front of was as unremarkable as the rest, a cookie-cutter copy with different curtains and a doormat. The driveway was empty but that didn’t mean shit. He already knew they were home, had to be, because they never damn well left.

“stay here,” Red ordered the driver. He nodded silently, sodium-yellow eyes meeting Red’s in the rear-view mirror. Red got out, hopping down to the ground from the high seat with a silent grumble. He took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt into the gutter. Straightening his uniform shirt was an automatic to him these days as taking his next breath. Didn’t make Red hate the fucking thing any less and he forced his hands back down as he trudged up the walkway.

He didn’t knock on the front door. Instead, he went around to the back of the house where he already knew what he would find. A turn of the corner an expansive garden was spread out before him, filled with neat rows of greenery already creeping their way out of the rich dirt.

There was a garden in every backyard in Refuge, every one of ‘em planted at the Queen’s command. Part of her plan was making sure that eventually Monsters would be as self-sufficient as possible. Couldn’t depend on the Humies to keep them in clover forever and sure they had some tech deals getting hammered out, but if there was one truth all Monsters knew, it was that G wasn’t food.

True, it wasn’t a perfect plan; some of those mandatory gardens were pretty fucking sad, brown straggly plants that might cough up a tomato or two before they kacked it. This one, though, was pristine. Red didn’t care about growing shit that couldn’t be rolled up into a blunt and knew even less about it, but even he could see the way all the plants were evenly spaced and that there wasn’t a single weed growing anywhere. Not a stray piece of grass or a single thistle dared peek out of the soil in this garden.

A Monster was kneeling in one of the plots, dressed in overalls and a funny little straw hat, a wagon next to him heaped with tools and paper bags, a small pile weeds who ignored the warning signs.

Red didn’t actually know Blue real well. When Rus talked about Blue, it was always with a wealth of fondness in his soft voice, often whispering his memories in the darkness of their bedroom whenever insomnia haunted him.

Whatever sweetness Rus remember in Blue, it was long since eroded away, torn out of him, and whether it was being Chosen, his past Judgement, or Asgore who did it didn’t much matter to the outcome.

He was one of Sans’s early Chosen, back before Red even joined the guard and the few times he’d seen Blue were when he came to assemblies to watch the trainees before they were instated as full guards. Red remembered seeing him those days; dressed to the nines in his uniform, boots polished until a person could see their reflection in them from ten steps away, every crease straight, every button fastened. Seen him a few times from a distance, too, with Sans, always a nice, respectful two steps behind him and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt between his knees. Couldn’t even picture the bastard ever getting bent over a sofa getting fucked by a desperate Judge.

(Sans was more likely to flop back and take a fucking, way back when, all sly smiles and slick pussy, knees spread wide in invitation. Whatever becoming the Judge did to him must’ve given his preferences a good topsy-turvy, ‘cause gossip in the barracks warned all the guards to be prepared for spending plenty of time on their knees)

They’d talked a few more times since then and not a single one of those chats endeared Blue to Red any more than the first.

These days Blue was pretty fucking hard to look at. His skull looked like it’d been busted apart and put back together by hands that didn’t care if the puzzle pieces didn’t fit right, parts of the bone still discolored with char. The empty left sleeve of his shirt was pinned up neatly to his shoulder and the cane leaning against his little wagon wasn’t for show. He’d survived the coup, but not by much, the only one of Sans’s chosen who didn’t die along with him, and there was a memory that Red didn’t like to take out and play with too often.

His team came in far too late, after it was all over but the vacuuming. Breaking through the barred door and walking into the leftovers of a massacre, a mass Judging, no one who’d been in the throne room came out unscathed. Blue the only one still breathing right and Sans…yeah.

Probably a wonder Blue hadn’t offed himself yet.

All that aside, it was a shame that the stick in his pelvis didn’t get yanked out along with his arm. The eye light that lit his less damaged socket was blazing sharp, and he was struggling to his feet the second Red started walking across the yard, snatching up his cane and brandishing it like a sword.

“What are you doing out here?” Blue demanded loudly. He stormed out of his garden, tracking mud across the carefully shorn grass. “You should be with Rus, he needs to be protected!”

“well, hello to you, too,” Red drawled. He stuck his hands in his pockets carelessly, rocking on his heels. “kid is fine, edge is with him.”

Blue’s dismissive scoff raked across Red’s nerves like the tines of a fork on a cheese grater. “Oh, certainly, with Edge, that’s surely impenetrable protection! Edge wasn’t even a full guard when he was Chosen!”

"might be so, but edge is the one in charge these days. you think i want out there handling that shit?" Either Blue wasn’t keeping up with the times or he was just being a prick. Either was possible, but the fact of the matter was that in public, Edge was the boss. His word was law when it came to Rus and it had a lotta spillover onto Toriel. To insinuate that he wasn’t capable of protecting the Judge was an insult about the level of hocking a juicy loogie into Red’s face and if it was anyone else, Red wouldn’t be fussed about getting the dust out of his shoelaces before he headed home. Blue caught the barest hint of a break, for Rus, but he was already fucking pushing it. Still, Red kept his voice carelessly easy, “you sound kinda worried about your bro.”

Blue shed the glove on his remaining hand and pulled a tidy bandanna out of his back pocket, mopping at the sheen of sweat on his shattered skull. “I heard about the attack, of course. Everyone has.”

“yeah?” Red raised a brow bone, reluctantly interested. “hear any useful gossip about it?”

“If I had, you would already know about it,” Blue retorted. He sighed and gestured for Red to follow him, making his staggering way up to the back porch. It was surrounded by flowering bushes, heady perfume overwhelmingly filling the air while bees flee drunkenly from blossom to blossom. Sitting on a little patio table was a carafe of lemonade, lemon slices floating amongst the ice.

Blue poured two large glasses, pushing one over to Red. He took a long drink, the tartness blotting out the nauseatingly thick reek of the flowers.

Blue took a sip from his glass, ice cubes rattling, and he dabbed away the thin stream that ran out of his cracked jaw with the bandanna. “I don’t hear most of the gossip, I’m afraid, not anymore. I’m a failed guard, the neighbors don’t exactly stop by for visits and chats.”

“You didn’t fail at shit,” Red retorted sharply. Bullshit was all that was, all because Blue managed to not die.

Red wasn’t fond of Blue, but fuck, he’d had nine toes in the dustpan when they managed to tow him back into the land of the living. He’d fucking well tried and if anyone wanted to toss in their opinion on whether they thought Blue didn’t try hard enough, they were welcome to give Red’s fat one a good ol’ suck.

Blue only let out a humorless laugh. Once, his eye lights had been a starry yellow-blue, showcasing his traits. Patience and justice, pretty good draw for a Chosen companion to the Judge. The one eye light he still had was pale and colorless now, reminiscent of Rus’s, only Blue’s was dull, doughy-blank, showing none of Rus’s vibrancy. Hard to believe anymore that these two were even brothers.

Curious that Rus’s Choosing gave him a pair of brothers with a matching trait of Determination. Made a person wonder exactly why, but neither the Angel nor the Judge were telling.

The glass in Blue’s hand rattled against his trembling fingers, the bones still yellowed and scorched. “Tell that to Sans.”

“tell him yourself,” Red lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. The cunning little device in his pocket would’ve warned Red if there was any active listening devices around, but Red hadn’t survived as long as he had without harsh lessons in watching his mouth, “i told you before, i can get you up to our rooms, no one’d ever know.”

Blue’s mouth twisted disgustedly. The movement from his jaw pulled the gaping crack over his dead socket grotesquely wider as the first real emotion winking in and out of his eye light in a flash. "And I told you, there is a reason that former Chosen aren’t allowed near the new Judge,” Blue slammed down his glass, a wave of lemonade slopping over his damaged fingers. “There's no telling how he'd react if he saw me! If he recalled I was once Chosen, he might--ugh!” Blue hunched over with a shudder of revulsion, “It's bad enough that you and your brother are servicing him."

“you questioning the judge’s choice?” Red said coolly, just this side of waspish. He didn't really give a good shit what Blue thought of it, especially considering Red’s reasons for being here to begin with, but he did wonder what Blue would think if he knew Sans popped out for a recent visit. Whispered a coupla sweet nothings while he jammed Rus’s prick East bejesus up Red’s cunt. The memory made a slick of wetness form at Red’s crotch and he shoved the memory back. Not the time and he stuffed that little reminiscence back where the one of his brother’s cock in his mouth lived, the knowledge of how it felt, soft and slick with his own come and Rus’s, carefully tucked into the furthest corner of his mind.

That tart question struck the dartboard in a bullseye. Blue faltered like he’d been jabbed right in the tailbone, sputtering out, “No, of course not, but—" He recovered, straightening his spine and that cool soldier’s expression dropped over his face, the stick in his ass jammed straight. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is the damage it could cause my brother to see me, so you can stop asking, the answer is no, it’ll always be no.”

“whatever you say,” Red shrugged, ‘cause he didn’t care, not really. Except for how desperately Rus wanted to see his fucking brother, just once, one last time. The brother he’d missed out saying goodbye to between Blue’s unconsciousness and him being Chosen. Any other Judge at least got a chance to say fare thee well and the fact that Rus lost the opportunity was just one more bar in Rus’s prison, caged in, body and soul.

Blue’s answer was about what he’d expected though, and that was fine. Another useless attempt to get him to the Embassy wasn’t Red’s real reason for coming.

“not really here about you anyway, pipsqueak,” Red said, letting the words fall lightly. “i heard papyrus is staying here with you these days.”

That little tidbit of gossip came through the vine in the wee hours last night, Red checking his phone with Rus sleeping peacefully beside him, Edge on the far side. He’d spent the rest of the night lying awake, cold fury thrumming in his soul and that was the real reason Red came all the fucking way out here for a little face to face chat. “shacking up with sans’s little brother, huh, that sure must be something.”

Papyrus was only a kid when Sans was chosen as Judge, still in striped shirts and missing his two front teeth. Biggest difference between him and Edge was the Crown gave a stipend to the families of Chosen to make up for the loss of income. Papyrus probably never had a hungry day in his life and certainly not after Sans put on the robes. His bro never had to worry if the shit wage he was earning in the guard was gonna be enough to keep a roof over his kid brother’s head or keep him in clothes when he started growing like a weed. Sans didn’t have to set aside enough for a bribe to make sure that whatever G he made actually found its way to his brother and didn’t end up lining the pocket of some greedy deliveryman.

None of that was Papyrus’s fault and sucking on a silver teat didn’t make him miss his brother any less. Kid tried the join the guard a few times and always washed out, only got to try more than once because of who his brother was. Red wondered morbidly what Blue’s stuck up, sanctimonious ass would’ve thought if Papyrus had gotten into the guard and Sans Chose him.

Now it was looking like that stick in Blue’s ass didn’t keep him from inviting Papyrus between the sheets.

Whatever color was in Blue’s skull leached away, the bone dulling to chalky white, and taking with it any hope that Blue wasn’t using that kid as a dim replacement. His gaze skittered away, hunted, skipping around the yard, looking for fuck knew what. For Sans to step out of the void with shrieking admonishments, for a stray bolt of lightning to finally strike him down and send Blue after those who went before him. There was nothing, only Red standing here holding half a glass of decent lemonade in the sunshine so many died to get.

There was nowhere else for that look to go, no escape, and finally Blue reluctantly looked at Red again. He said, raw and stiffly, “There’s nothing against the code about that.”

“no, there ain’t,” Red agreed, softly. He only met Blue’s solitary eye light evenly. Red couldn’t see into Blue’s soul but he fucking well hoped Blue felt his sins crawling their leisurely way up his spine.

Red set his lemonade down carefully before he gave into the urge to toss it glass and all right into Blue’s broken face. He turned away and started back around the house, barely off the patio when Blue called his name.

“Red?” Blue struggled for words finally asked, plaintively. “Is he happy?”

Almost Red wanted to tell Blue that they kept Rus well fucked. That his little bro looked good stuffed with cock on both ends, that he sucked dick with the expertise of a thousand G whore.

But he wasn’t about to talk about Rus like that, not even to get one up on his shitheel brother. “i like to think so. he’s a real sweetheart.”

Red made no mention of the almost desperate adoration that rose up in his soul that came from only thinking about Rus. That wasn’t for sharing time.

“Yes,” Blue said. His hoarse voice was low, subdued, “he always was. take good care of him?”

Better than you could, Red did not say. “want me to give him a message or anything?”

Blue’s melancholy faded and he shook his head immediately, "Judges are forbidden from any contact by a former Chosen or family, and I’m both. You know this.” He sounded like he was reading straight from the guard manual.

If Rus hadn’t been Chosen, he’d be here right now taking care of his piece of shit brother. Standing back helplessly while Blue fucked the old Judge’s kid brother and pretended he was someone else, and Red was a selfish enough bastard to be glad he wasn’t. “you’re right, i do. so is there?”

Blue only lifted his chin and it was a damn good thing he wasn’t a Judge, because his single eye light was loaded with resentful judgement. “No. There’s nothing I could tell him that he wouldn’t already know.”

Yeah, just as well Rus was Chosen. Blue didn’t fucking deserve to have his brother here with him.

Wasn’t a fucking thing Red could do about Papyrus; he was out of stripes and kid was gonna have to make his own bad decisions and what was Red gonna do about it anyway? Take him back home like a stray puppy he found on the streets? Tell him that he didn’t have to settle for Sans’s leftovers, remind him that it wasn’t Sans’s idea to leave any of them? That he didn’t need to live here, the two of them burying themselves into a dusty tomb that Sans wasn’t even in.

He wondered what Papyrus was getting out of it. If he was closing his sockets and played his own version of pretend.

He wondered why he even cared. Why had he come out here to Refuge, really?

“tell paps i said hi,” Red said finally, “ain’t nothing against that in the code, either.”

“I will.”

Red turned on his heel and headed back to the car before he said something he wouldn’t regret, but would hurt Rus if he ever heard about it. He lit a cigarette before they’d even pulled away from the curb and by the time they got back to the Embassy, he’d smoked his way through the entire pack.

~~*~~

When Red got back to their quarters, he was too fucking tired for the early hour of the day and faintly nauseous from too much nicotine. He closed the door carefully behind him, resetting all the alarms. His joints ached like all his frustrations seeped out of his soul and settled into them.

In their living area, Rus and Edge were sitting on opposite sofas, playing some kind of stupid card game. Rus was choosing to stay home for a few days, barring a Judgement, and that was the only reason Red felt comfortable enough to leave the two of them alone, anyway.

Kid didn’t want to endanger anyone else, perfectly reasonable response to what happened, but they couldn’t hide away in here forever. Rus needed fresh air and sunshine. He needed his meditation gardens, not the weedy looking herbs Edge grew on the narrow windowsill for his cooking.

That meant Red needed to go over the intel his contacts were sending along. Search for reoccurring names, patterns, anything that’d lead him to the end of this snake so he could chop off the head.

Needed to, yeah, but it’d have to wait. Right now, his head wasn’t exactly in the game. He’d left too much of his mind behind in Refuge, turning that chat over and over, trying to find a chink, a solution that didn’t exist.

Probably better to get settled so he didn’t miss a trick, yeah, that was the ticket. All Red wanted right now was some manufactured forgetfulness and he wanted to get started making it right now.

“welcome back,” Rus called cheerily. He only glanced at Red, pale eye lights filled with warm greeting, before turning back to the cards in his hand with a little frown.

That gave Red a chance to discreetly run a mental inventory of his honey. Rus was looking good today. There was some color back into his bones, his pristine skull glossy with health. His magic was leveling out to its normal slower upward trickle. Hell, at a glance he was damn right perky, and that made it hard not to appreciate how fucking pretty he was. His long robes were discarded in favor of a pair of soft, loose pants and a t-shirt to match, bare feet tucked under his knees and a hint of his clavicles peeking tantalizingly over the neckline, begging for a mouth to give ‘em a taste.

Just seeing Rus like that leached some of the aching tension out of Red’s soul, trading it out for relief.

It was tempting to step up right then, but Red hung back, waiting for them to finish their game. When Rus wasn't giving Judgments, what he was mostly was bored. There was only so much meditating and bonding with the spirits or whatever the shit that anyone could do. Protecting the Judge was the focus of their job, the most important thing, but it wasn’t the only one. The other part of their bit was plain taking care of Rus and that included entertainment.

Sex might be an easy way to knock out two birds with one dick, but it couldn’t be the only thing.

Their living room was lined with shelves filled to the brim with books and blu-rays, video game consoles and board games, anything to help Rus pass the day and hopefully forget that the sunshine his brother nearly died to get for their people couldn’t really be his.

“What were you off doing anyway?” Rus asked absently. His attention was mostly on the game, sockets narrowed, and across from him, Edge only waited patiently, the slightest hint of a smirk curving his mouth. Rus didn’t seem too worried about Red taking a field trip, it did happen from time to time.

His brother was probably less than pleased that Red took off without a word as to where he was going other than a hastily scrawled note of ‘back soon’, but eh, Red could take that medicine when he had to.

There was a split-second choice to be made here, whether to tell Rus the truth of where he’d gone or not. With only a couple words, Red could make sure Rus never wanted to see his brother again…and taint every past memory he clung to in the process. Almost did it anyway; Red was an old hand at cleaning up all kinds of messes, he could handle one more. The only thing that held his tongue was thinking of Rus’s grief, the choking tears streaming down his pretty face, and his memory of his brother would end up just one more thing he’d lost.

Only this time it would be Red doing the taking.

Fuck it, if the Angel wanted Rus to know about it, She could do the dirty work.

“nothing important, darlin’,” Red said smoothly, and that was true enough.

Rus didn’t notice anything amiss, but Edge gave him a narrow, suspicious look. Eh, he’d catch his bro up on things soon enough. Now wasn’t the time. For once, Edge wasn’t buttoned from his clavicles to his toes in his uniform, instead dressed in soft pants and a sweatshirt that was a hair too tight, probably from Rus’s side of the closet. Probably meant they’d spent some cuddle time on the sofa before starting up on the game or at least Red hoped so. He might watch the cameras later. Just to make sure.

His wandering thoughts were coagulating, coming back together in his skull and Red was already wondering what kind of distraction he could come up with to tug their attention from the cards when he heard it. Faintly, the familiar, hollow sound of a constant buzzing against bone.

Well, now, this was getting interesting, now wasn’t it.

“care to fill me in on the rules to this game?” Red drawled. He leaned against the sofa arm and treated himself to a more in-depth perusal of them both. Nothing unusual leapt out at him, not yet.

“it’s pretty simple,” Rus said. His cards were fanned out messily in his slim hands, a disorderly array of suits. “whoever loses a round has to wear a vibrator in the next round. winner gets to put the vibrator wherever they want.”

Huh. Rus sounded a little more disgruntled than that called for. Kid was an ace at counting cards, it was a little surprising he’d even persuaded Edge to play. “sounds fun.”

“i thought so too,” Rus said, shooting Edge a sulky look. “only edge doesn’t even work up a sweat, no matter where i put it. i’ve tried it behind his sternum, his sacrum, pubic arch. i'm about ready to toss it into his eye socket and let it rattle around in his skull for a while, see if that shakes him up.”

Edge laid the queen of spades on top of the card pile and said placidly, “My apologies for my self-control being so boring.”

Boring, huh. Red looked his brother up and down calculatingly. The little details were there if a person knew how to look. Eye lights barely hazed, the slightest hitch to his too-even breathing. He was a little worked up, but Rus wasn't lying, he still looked like an ice cube wouldn't melt in his shorts.

Meanwhile, Rus was pouting unhappily, his pretty smile turned upside down, and that just couldn’t be allowed, now could it. An idea perked up in the back of Red’s mind, ripe with possibilities, and Rus would go for it no question. Whether Edge would was dependent on how happy he wanted to make Rus, which usually fell under ‘a lot’. The odds were good, and Red never shied from a good bet.

Red leaned in and settled a wandering hand on Rus’s knee, sliding lightly up his inner thigh and snagging his attention. "how about we play another kind of game, honey."

Rus immediately looked wary, but Red wasn't offended. Couldn't blame him; Rus'd played Red’s games before, good on him for taking the lesson to heart.

"what game?" Rus asked suspiciously.

"Doesn’t anyone want to know if I want to play a new game?" Edge asked no one in particular. They ignored him.

Red rose up on his toes and laid a soft kiss on Rus’s mouth, lingering a little too long over that sweetness before he reluctantly drew back. “lemme get changed first then we'll talk. you go on ahead and finish that round.”

He strolled off, whistling cheerfully. The day was already looking up.

In their shared bedroom Red stripped out of his uniform, carelessly dropping it to the floor for Edge to bitch over later. A pair of well-worn shorts and a t-shirt was a decent match to the wardrobe choices of two brats out there, and made for easier access and cleanup. Ready Freddy, except for one thing.

Red knelt down and dug out a small box hidden underneath their bed, grabbed a little something that might come in handy right soon. He tucked it into his pocket, shoving it deep enough not to arouse (heh) suspicions.

Edge was picking up the cards when Red came back out, tucking them back into the box. The previously unseen vibrator was sitting innocently on the coffee table as if Red couldn’t see the faint traces of crimson that’d been hastily wiped away.

Red crawled up on the sofa next to Rus and held out an arm, pretended that his soul didn’t give a solid throb as Rus immediately snuggled in against him happily. The kid rolled over on his back, his skull in Red’s lap, looking up at him with bright curiosity in those pale eye lights as he said, “c’mon, red, tell me!”

That pout was back and Red took a moment to lean down and quickly kiss it away, allowing only a brief flicker of their tongues together before he pulled back. He stroked the smooth bone of Rus’s forehead lightly, soothingly, “all right, honey love, here’s the game. you got five minutes to get edge to come, however you can. if you don’t get it done in the allotted time, i get five minutes to make him come. winner gets the prize.”

As he’d guessed, Rus’s eye lights immediately blew wide, briefly tinging golden in an abrupt surge of desire. It faded quick enough, Rus struggling to hold it back, but the cat was out of the bag now, wasn’t it.

Across the way, Edge barely stifled a sharp, startled sound, but if he had an opinion about Red’s little suggestion, he kept it to himself.

The rest of Red’s words seemed to have wormed their way past that first thoughtless rush and Rus was frowning again, “that's not fair. if i lose, he'll already be all worked up for you.”

Red leaned down and gave him a light kiss in reward for figuring that out. “ah, but see, difference is, i don't get to touch him. no bone on bone for me, sweetheart, i promise.”

Mollified, Rus settled back. “what do i get if i win?”

“you get to ask a favor of me, anything at all.”

Poor kid was gonna get whiplash the way he kept flipflopping from interest to disappointment. “i can already do that.”

“yeah, but you don’t.” Red pointed out, “you never do. this one you’d earn fair and square, might make it easier if you’re spending your own dime rather than the inheritance.”

Rus nodded slowly, understanding coupled with intrigue lighting his face, “and if you win?”

“same deal, i get to ask one thing from you. anything i want.” That win or lose Rus was gonna enjoy himself thoroughly was heavily implied.

“anything,” Rus murmured, rolling the word around in his mouth, giving it a good taste, but before he could decide if he liked the flavor, another bargainer stepped up to the table.

“I have a question,” Edge said, coolly. Red glanced at his brother meaningfully, met crimson eye lights that were a match his own. Edge was sitting on the opposite sofa, his arms crossed over his chest. The line of his jaw was tense, teeth gritted together, but that wasn’t distaste or reluctance on his face, not one fucking bit. He waited to see if his bro would beg off or outright refuse. They’d teeter-tottered around into a little touchy feely a long time ago, didn’t matter so long as it helped get Rus off. They'd been ramping it up lately, but this was a horse of a different color, deliberate red on red without a buffer of honeyed gold between them.

He was counting on his brother not to disappoint.

“what’s that, bro?” Red asked.

Edge’s crimson tongue flicked out over his teeth, an almost imperceptible hint at nervousness. "What do I get if neither of you get me to come?"

Oh yeah, that was his bro.

"ah, that’s easy,” Red said lightly, “favor is all yours, little brother. from both of us."

Red looked back down at Rus and he could about see the gears turning in his mind. He was a smart kid, even smarter when you took into account all the Judges in creation playing house in the back of his mind. He was trying to work out what kind of monkey's paw bullshit Red wove into the bargain, but looked like he wasn't finding anything cause all he said was, decisively, "deal.”

“Deal,” Edge agreed softly. He stood and turned on his heel, walking out. Came back only a minute later with a couple towels over one arm, fucking neat freak. He spread them out on the sofa then shed his clothes, folding each piece neatly as he stripped it off. Edge wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Rus, his bones were thicker with none of the delicacy that was laced into their lover’s, pocked with scars from the years before he was in the guard and the training alike. Strong bone that could take a beating and had, bearing the marks of a survivor and warm pride flowed over Red like syrup, like the honey he so often named Rus.

Edge’s joints were already lit with mana, either from the earlier vibrator or the recent chat, and a cloud of it filled his pelvic cradle, a thunderstorm of brimming desire. He settled back on the sofa, long legs stretched out, and said, mockingly sweet, “Ready when you are.”

A hasty search found lube where it was thoughtful stowed under one of the cushions and Rus drizzled it over his slim hands, rubbing them together until the slender bones were glossy and slick. “summon your cock first, give me something to work with.”

Edge tutted in disappointment, shaking his head, “Asking for a concession already?”

“everyone knows you don’t start a game without setting up the pieces first,” Rus countered, waggling his slippery fingers teasingly.

“he’s got you there, bro,” Red chuckled, amusement mingled with a peculiar sort of relief. All the nastiness of the day was flowing away, dirty water down the drain, simply by being around these two sassy shits. “don’t you think he deserves a little head start?”

Nice to see that Red wasn’t the only one who weakened under a pair of wide, pleading eye lights. Edge softened like sweet butter left on the stovetop. The swirl of his magic solidified, his cock formed between his femurs, already heavy and hard, a formidable piece of equipment that Edge usually put to good use. Rus reached out with dripping hands, only waiting when Red called out.

“hold up.” Red pulled out his phone, setting the timer, “okay, rus…go!”

Red settled back into the throw pillows to watch the show, one hand slithering down the front of his shorts, hard phalanges idle against his pubic crest where his magic was settling humidly. Wasn’t any part of the bet against him coming and Red was all ready to hit the concession stand.

Rus didn’t waste any time, both hands already curled around Edge’s shaft, spreading the slippery lube until the scarlet ectoflesh was glistening wetly. The rhythmic sound was wickedly obscene, startlingly loud over Rus’s satisfied hum.

There was no reaction at all from Edge, his eye lights barely flickered as Rus stroked him. Even when Rus frowned determinedly, kneeling between Edge’s spread legs, tongue already eagerly extended. He lapped softly at the little jewel of scarlet fluid beading at the head of Edge’s cock before sucking the length of it down with a messy slurp.

“that’s it. little brother,” Red called, smirking as Edge only hissed out a breath, keeping stubbornly still, “don’t make it too easy for him.”

It was a helluva show, to put it mildly, worth it even if by some random chance Red lost the game. Rus was pulling out all the stops, using every dirty, wicked trick he’d been taught between them about giving head and a couple made up on the spot. The long, flexible length of his tongue wrapped around the shaft, a thumb and forefinger surrounding the base, following the tight rhythm of Rus’s head. Mouth sloppy wet, golden spit sliding down his chin and wetting his hand as Rus sucked Edge in deep, his formed throat bobbing as he swallowed, formed muscles massaging the hard length. His free hand wandered wherever it could reach, seeking out places he knew were sensitive. Rus had mapped out their bodies with those shy, nimble fingers of his too many times to count, committing their every twitch to memory, and now he was tweaking cartilage, fondling up the length of Edge’s spine, teasing at his floating ribs.

All the little details put together a fine picture; Rus’s ass in the air, his clothed pelvis wriggling enticingly as he worked. Muffled whimpers were spilling into the air from him around the cock filling his mouth, garbled pleading, and Edge sure as fuck wasn’t unaffected now.

Sweat decorated his skull like glittery sequins as Edge breathed hard through his nasal cavity, his tongue caught between his jagged teeth hard enough that a thin rill of crimson was spilling down his chin. His knees jerked slightly with each bob of Rus’s head, bones clattering softly. A raw groan escaped Edge, hinting at desperation at the exact moment the timer buzzed, shifting to a pained gasp as Rus pulled off with slow deliberation, giving the head a last teasing suck.

Rus sighed in mock disappointment, wiping at his mouth fruitlessly with the back of his hand and only succeeding in smearing the mingled gold and crimson fluids. “damn it, guess i lost.”

“guess you did,” Red slid down to the floor with less grace than he would’ve liked, knees wobbly and his own arousal settled heavily into his pelvis. “have a seat, honey, watch the master at work.”

Mischief flittered over Rus’s face, far too quick for anything but a warning. He caught hold of the front of Red’s shirt and yanked him in, forcing his sex-tainted tongue down Red’s throat. The taste was one he knew all too well, honey sweetness mellowed with spice, rich and addictive.

A last delicate swipe of his tongue and Rus sashayed away, snagging one of the pillows to curl around while he settled in for his turn to watch.

Red licked the back of his teeth, catching the last of that tang before it faded completely. Yeah, Rus was gonna pay for that.

Or maybe Red needed to thank him, because Edge was watching them hotly with a riveted gaze, a thread of crimson fluid leaking from the tip of his cock to stain the towel.

He didn’t quite flinch as Red crawled up on the cushions, keeping a careful distance from his brother’s bare bones. There was a certain fraught quality to Edge’s expression, a feral wildness like he might bolt away.

“close your sockets, bro,” Red told him, gently. Which mean of course that Edge did no such thing, contrary bastard.

“Why?” Edge said suspiciously. His gaze flicked down Red’s body helplessly to where his dick was pushing out the front of his shorts, then away, then back to Red’s face, the color blooming his cheekbones lovelier than any flower in Refuge.

Thoughts like that weren’t gonna help Red win the game and he shoved it aside, adding it to his growing collection of ‘ain’t thinking about it’.

“because i fucking told you to,” Red retorted, “that’s why. now play the game right.”

“I don’t recall following orders being in the rules,” Edge grumbled, but this time he did as he was told.

Red waited until he was sure those sockets were closed tight, not the faintest hint of crimson showing. Then he reached into his pocket for his special toy surprise.

This particular prize wasn't from their normal toybox since Rus didn't have a lot of interest in his cock. That might be changing, he'd give it a thought some other time. The toy was made of a gelatinous material was only slightly softer than ectoflesh, formed into a hollow sheath that was lined with small bumps and curving grooves designed stimulate, drag out every drop of pleasure possible, willingly or otherwise.

The expected cries of cheating didn’t come and Red flicked a glance at Rus to find him watching with wide, rapturous sockets, face flushed golden bright. One arm was wrapped so tightly around the pillow the fabric threatened to burst and his other hand pressed between his legs overtop his pants, fingers digging in helplessly as if he could stop his cunt from forming by sheer, physical will.

The audience was waiting, the timer was set. Time to get this game started. Red scooped up the depleted bottle of lube and squirted a dollop into the sheath and with one motion, deftly slid it down on his brother’s dick.

The reaction was gratifying. Edge’s hips lurched up wildly, his sockets flying open, hands curled into claws that very nearly latched onto Red’s skull before they abruptly diverted and clenched into the sofa cushions.

"You said no touching!" Edge hissed, crimson eye lights flashing as he trembled with outrage. His sharpened fingertips dug into the cushions, tearing through the fabric down to the memory foam.

“i ain't touching you a bit, baby brother,” Red crooned, and tightened his fist around the sheath, giving it a quick, vigorous stroke. Those bumps had to be digging in, massaging their way up and down with each rub.

Edge gasped wetly, squeezing his sockets shut, "Don't call me that!"

The other sofa creaked and Red slanted a glance at Rus who was halfway to his feet, reaching out weakly and conflicting emotions tangled across his face. “red, stop," Rus said, trembling but firm. "not if he doesn't want it."

Red only chuckled darkly, dragging his clenched fist down achingly slow, then up abruptly again, "oh, don’t you worry, honey, he wants it. don't you?"

Edge said nothing, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he struggled to keep his pelvis still while Red jerked him off through the thin barrier of the sheath. Looked like the trap might need a little more bait.

Red leaned in closer, careful not to so much as graze his brother’s strong, scarred bones, and whispered, low and harsh, "you remember the first time you fucked him? the way he was spread out under you, begging you to take him?”

This time his brother’s breath creaked out like the hinge of an old door as Red kept it up, murmuring breathily close to his auditory canal, “remember pushing your cock into that pretty virgin pussy? how it was already dripping with my come, how tight he was around your cock? kinda like this, yeah, remember him cryin' cause he needed it so much? how scared he was, showing us his soul? sweet thing all dripping wet, he needed it so bad, the mess he made, oh, that honey magic and silver, practically squirting over himself the second you touched his clit, remember that? you remember how he looked when he came?"

He kept up the relentless pace with every low word, letting the memory warm him. There was a certain charm to clumsy eagerness, inexperienced hands searching unknowingly for all the places that felt best. Not that Red missed it exactly, but he sure didn’t mind bringing that memory out to play with from time to time.

Edge was struggling, heaving, his eye lights narrowed to pinpricks as he stared blindly up at the ceiling.

Almost there, almost, and Red leaned in close enough for Edge to feel the heat of his breath, a bare whisper too low for Rus to possibly hear him, "member the first time he said he loved us?"

That did the trick. Edge let out a wretched sound like a sob, bones rattling as he came, filling the sheath to overflowing with his seed. Red could feel the surging heat of it through the thin plastic, smelled the rich spice even as the blare of the alarm came from his phone.

Game, set, match.

Red pulled off, tossing the dripping sheath to the coffee table to join the vibrator already there. Edge only lay weakly in his defeat, pelvis smeared with come, the rest of his bones dabbled with sweat. Red left him there to wallow in his filth, prowling over to Rus.

Who scrabbled back into the corner of the sofa, his sockets so wide it looked like his eye lights were gonna pop loose and fizzle out on the carpet. He fumbled for the phone gracelessly, somehow managing to turn off the warbling timer without dropping it on the floor even as Red raked a look over him. Taking in the heated glow of his joints, the honey-tint to his eye lights, the wet patch seeping through his pants, leaving a darkened stain that clung visibly to his pussy lips.

Yeah, Red had his number now. Looked like their honey had a lil' voyeurism kink going on. That was a new toy Red was looking forward to playing with, fuck yes. But for now, he had a problem of his own going on in his pants and Rus’s magic was crackling hotly in the air, searing lightning searching for the ground

"lay back, sugar," Red slipped off his shorts, briefly fisting his own cock, groaning at the feel of his own hard fingers.

Rus did it instantly, squirming as he worked his pants down his legs and kicked them off even as he asked doubtfully, "this is what you want as a favor?"

"nope, this is mine by right.” Red jerked Rus down until his pelvis was at the edge of the sofa, long legs dangling to the floor. He shuffled forward, lining his cock up with Rus’s eagerly clenching entrance, smearing his cock with golden wetness. “i'll let you know about the favor."

Then he shoved into that wet pussy, groaning at the soaking, tight heat around him as Rus’s wail filled the room.

So fucking gorgeous, watching Rus whimper and flail as Red fucked him. Pretty as Rus was on his knees, Red liked him better on his back. Liked watching that lovely face scrunch up every time Red fucked into him, honeyed tears welling up, streaming down the rounded curves of his cheekbones as that sassy mouth dropped open and his tongue curled behind his teeth.

In the down under, he got to watch his dick moving in the soft, golden magic that filled Rus's pelvis. His cunt was a slippery, plush delight, that first thrust inside always bordered on too tight until his walls loosened up a little, Rus whimpering out little cries as Red forced his cock in, past the rippling clench to fill him up.

And fuck him for how hot that was. Red knew Rus could take a fist all the way up to the elbow into his pussy, a cock wasn't no big thing, (heh), but the feel of it, fuck, like taking his virginity all over again. Red braced his heels against the coffee table and pumped harder, watched the length of his shaft slide in, pussy lips spreading wide around it, parting to give him a nice look at Rus's swollen clit. Red reached down to trace around it teasingly with a careful, sharp-tipped finger and Rus let out a frantic whine.

"you want somethin’, sweetheart?" Red panted out.

"i want to come!" Sweet desperation poured from him, fuck, talk about no stamina. Then again, Rus was like a little energizer bunny of orgasms, he could keep going and going, popping off one after another. Wasn’t no reason to hold him back now.

One hard drag of Red’s thumb over his clit and Rus was arching, his legs going tight around Red’s hips, holding him in deep as he convulsed. A fresh rush of wetness flooding his pussy, smoothing out the ride.

Rus sagged back against the cushions, hiccoughing soft little cries as Red kept it up. His own orgasm was swelling in him, tantalizingly close. Next to him, the sofa suddenly dipped with added weight and maybe Red couldn’t lean up high enough to give Rus’s pleading mouth a kiss, but that was fine, cause Edge was there to do it for him, his brother’s crimson tongue moving sinuously against Rus's golden one, fuck, yeah.

"come on down here, bro,” Red growled, flicking his thumb over Rus’s swollen clit again, “got something better for you to work with."

His brother shifted downward instantly, tilting his head in to lick at that sensitive nub. His crimson tongue was long, prehensile, dipping in between Rus’s femurs. Not his normal one, either, this one forked at the tip, all the better to work against Rus's clit, circling it from both sides, yeah, his fucking clever brother. Sometimes it wandered too low, one of the tips occasionally grazed against Red's cock, slyly pushing into Rus’s cunt and catching Red off-guard with a brief firework of sensation.

Red could taste his own sweat, sharp and faintly bitter, tried not to jerk as that tongue lashed against him again. He didn’t want Edge the same way he did Rus, he didn’t, but oh, you kid—

Fuck it, he couldn’t hold out anymore.

Red let go with a groan, pulling out to come in hot streaks over Rus's pelvis, and, oh, yeah, his bro's face. Edge flinched, closing his sockets and didn't stop, licking Rus through another orgasm even as a glossy spurt of come striped across his tongue, the fluid a shade of crimson darker than the ectoflesh.

With a deeply satisfied sigh, Red shuffled over enough to flop on the sofa even as Rus trembled and writhed through his shuddering ecstasy. He watched through narrowed sockets as Edge sat up, blinking too fast and his tremulous expression was loaded with conflicting signals. Almost, Red reached out, his sense still blurrily pleased, struck with the idea of rubbing his come in, smearing it across his brother’s scarred bones, marking him—

He reeled back, snorting aloud at his own stupidity. Yeah, yeah, his brother and no one else’s. He’d lived that schtick his whole life, no reason to complicate it now.

Looking at it sideways, the mess of his come was dripping down Edge’s skull in a way that made Red think hilariously of strawberry syrup on cheesecake.

Well, it could be a sweet treat for someone to eat, now couldn’t it.

"whoopsie, looks like i messed him up," Red drawled, elbowing Rus lightly. "you gonna clean him up, sugar skull?"

Rus stirred at the pet name, sockets fluttering open, then going wide as he took in the sights. He swallowed audibly, husking out, "yeah i can…i can do that if…if you want?"

Like Edge was even capable of turning that down. A short, sharp nod and Edge sat obediently still, let Rus lave at his face, greedily licking up the spatters while Red watched the crimson smearing the deeper gold of his tongue avidly. The sudden flood of fresh arousal was startling, almost unwelcome.

Almost.

The way he figured it, Edge would only stand that for so long before he hauled them all off to their massive shower. The three of them standing together beneath the generous spray, the water pouring down on them about two degrees lower than the temperature of lava, exactly how Rus liked it. The probability of blowjobs or fucking was high and so was the chance of a nap afterword, Rus snuggled up against him blissfully well-fucked, his brother on the other side. A preciously rare gift from the Angel to make up for the slagging shithole of Red’s life before.

He'd guarantee that Rus would mumble out a sleepy ‘I love you’ for them both before drifting off and right about then, Red wanted that more than anything in the fucking world. Those three words, Rus, and Edge.

His, all his in a way no one’d ever been his entire life. Not even Sans.

Red didn’t have a fucking clue what game they were playing anymore. Didn’t matter, either. All he knew was that the fates were sore losers and that he didn’t give a shit.

He was playing to win.

-fin

Next Chapter

[popculturebuffet]

Toons for Our Times: Star Vs: Demoncism

Halloween Havoc BEGINS! And with Tomtober this same month, i’m taking another of my on and off looks at Tom! Tom tries to tackle his literla nd figurative  personal demons the natural way: by having a creepy anti-demon cult that’s never explained suck them out of his body. For some reason Star has a problem with this. We also get Ponyhead in a robe, the wonders of reflectcor and free toys from the toychest for being such a good boy. Face your demons under the cut. 

Welcome boys, ghouls and that bootiful technicolor rainbow inbetween, to halloween havoc! MUAHAHHAHA.  You might be wondering a few things. What the hell that is, isn’t that also the title of a bunch of old wcw pay per views, and have I gone insane. In order it’s usually my catchy term the past two years and this current one for my binging of halloween films and logging and reviewing them on my leterboxd account, but I decided to expand it to here since while it’s not my first halloween on here it’s the first both reviewing animation and planning ahead, I decided why not reuse a good title here.  As for the wcw thing.. well yeah. It’s a great title, neither WWE, who I think still owns the copyright, nor WCW”s Heir Apparent AEW are using it right now despite being one of the best recurring Pay-Per-View titles either promotions had. Maybe not in actualy MATCH QUALITy but that name.. it just sings to me so i’m using it for my weird blog. I’m not making any money of this so why not. And as for my sanity that left a long time ago. So prepare for a month of ghouls, ghosts, goblins, lichs, scooby doo parodies, long forgotten characters, and some suprises and pies of all sizes. THIS... IS....

So to start us off, every year my pal @jess-the-vampire​ does a monthly event known as tomtober, a celebration of all things tom lucitor. And since I started hte tomtropsective for that and still am behind, I figured why not celebrate that, and the fact I can’t draw so I can’t do day 1 as a chat or anything, by continuing the tale of everyone’s faviorite teen demon.  Thankfully unlike last time, or next time wink wonk, there’s not a TON of other plot stuff to fill in. There is one important bit not to this episode but to the series as a whole: Eclipsa is here, since Moon trying to screw her out of the deal she made backried once toffee actually died... as did you know keepiung him alive instead of dealing with eclipsa being free and having the comissoin to back her on it. Nice job moon. Real nice. So yeah Eclipsa’s around.. dosen’t effect this episode but given tom’s involved in two of the biggest plot important episodes in the show, AND one deals with the direct fallout of one of those episodes i’m probably going to have to cover her soon to get to more tom anyway so might as well prepare for that now. 

So yeah this episode’s entreily a straight line from last time and opens picking up on the end of that episode: Star is calling tom wondering when their gonna get that Cornshake. Thankfully she gets an answer. Unthankfully.. it’s from a VERY sweaty ponyhead. 

So that was my own personal hell. Anyways she’s so.. sweaty.. GAHHHHHHH, because she’s keeping a secret and much like me she can’t keep her mouth shut about something she wants to talk about for very long, so we find out what she knows: SHe ran into tom who swore her not to tell Star he was getting a Demoncisim. Which suprises me.. not the demoncism thing the fact Pony would actually listen to anyone else.. Star included. LIke it’s the one thing about this episode that dosen’t quite fit: She’s such a selfish, toxic asshole, though Jenny Slate bless her makes her at least entertaining at times but even she has limits, it just dosen’t track she’d care what Tom thought unless we saw it for ourselves. Pony is ONLY capable of carring about star so while I could see tom framing it as for her own good, it’d be nice if the episode just came out and said that. It’d also be nice if we didn’t get sweaty ponyhead because that’s probably someone’s fetish and I.. OH GOD. 

Okay now i’ve mentally snapped from that revelation, Star lasso’s pony when she tries to escape, and we find out the demoncism is pretty self explanatory: A cermony that removes demons from one’s body.. and given tom is you know, a demon, this could end bad. So with no idea where it’s being held and it going on now, giving them little if any time to figure it out, Star suggests going to pony’s ex.. she dosen’t remember which one and apologizes for how bitchy that sounded, but we find out it’s Seahorse, Pony’s love intrest for the rest of the series and a hardcore emo rocker who even made her a song.. which is just him destroying everything and screaming. Eh i’ve seen people in emowear do far dumber. 

If those are m and m’s their pretzel. Trust me I’m a professional lardass, I know my delcious candy coated choclates. Anyways our dynamic-ish duo head to Seahorse at his job at a relfectcor store, basically a phone store, and is basically a hollowed out shell of a human being with no real personality or free will of his own.. so THAT’S how we got Ted Cruz. Ponyhead natrually breaks down when he dosen’t recognize her at all, which is one of the few time’s i’ve actually cared about her feelings: I mean having your ex just.. forget you exist.. tha’ts rough buddy. I feel bad for her.. I didn’t know she had emotions. I thought her heart and brain were both a black hole.. mostly becasue I thought ponyhead’s hearts and brains were the same organ. Star does however manage to get the map they need to Tom. 

Our heroines find the Demonicsim site and a bunch of creepy guys in robes iwth red glowing eyes.. who are never explained honestly. More on that in a minute. So ponyhead distracts them with one of the greatest  gags in the series history

I mean just.. look at it. The way the robe drapes, the way her nose sticks out much like a certain penguins, the way she decides to distract everyone with petty minute like voting on robes.. it’s fucking great. I may not like pony a LOT but she can be really damn funny> The issues that she often isn’t funny enough to ofset her jackassery. Here though even with my jabs at her.. she works and I like it.  So Star confronts Tom, wondering AGAIN if this is another half assed tactic to win her back.. and her flip flop attitude with tom is starting to annoy me. It fits her personality, and don’t get me wrong as i’ve made abudnatnly clear in past reviews his actions in blood moon ball and ESPECIALLY mr.candle cares were super not okay, so i’ts okay NOT to forget how badly things went last time when your considering getting back together with someone. It’s NOT okay however to hold it over someone’s head forever like any moment their going to snap back into being a manipulative doucheweasel when they’ve left you alone for around 8 months.. and Id id my calcualtion. The timeline of the show is pretty solid up to season 4: Season 1 was star’s 1st semister at echo creek academy, season 2 was her second and as it turned out final one, and season 3 covers Summer , fall and part of next spring. Though again how another summer dosen’t happen until towards the end of season 4 is dumb and I’ll probably rant about that at a later point. Point is since MCC was at the start of season 2, that means it happened around say january or feburary, with Demonicsim probably happening around say march. So he’s left you alone for around 8 months, silver bell ball included. It’s unfair to assume he’s still schemeing when he let you go months ago. H’es made it obvious via his .. everything he’d take you back in an instant, he’s just being patient and not pushing it because he’s no longer as big an asshole, and trying to be respectful. Cut him a break.  Thankfully this gets put down quick with Tom explaning he wants to be better for himself: Like last time he was inspired by her trying to be better herself, and wants to.. but as we’ve established.. he dosen’t know HOW to be nice or a better person. He wasn’t raised in an enviroment that was really condusive to that as nice as his own parents are. Their the exception to the underworld being mostly dicks not the rule, as we’ll see next time. I.. can relate with my own issues with anxiety , depression and, yes, anger. I too have trouble keeping it in and hate feeling bitchy all the time or depressed and just want it to stop. I think anyone with a mental ilness just wants it to STOP to be gone and to be able to live a happy life. But there’s no magic button that fixes your issues, your traumas or your mental health like that. No pill that can fix it just ones that help ease it down to managable. And as i’ve learned the hard way YOU have to work at it, YOU have to make the effort. There’s no easy way out. And while Tom thinks htere is here, it’s very clear it’s a huge risk, and Star’s right that he shoudlnt’ go thorugh with it and that he could seriously hurt himself. But Tom’s in pain and just wants to be happy, to be normal, to be not angry anymore and I gotta tell you if , even if it was risky, there was a way to cure my depression or anger issues or anxiety, not my atuisim tha’ts part of me and not something that needs a fucking cure just more understanding and awarness, but if I could cure those other three things? I would. It’s paart of me sure but it’s a part of me I HATE. So I understand why tom’s doing this even despite the danger: because he’s at his wits end, desperate and this will help he hopes.. it can’t get WORSE, so why not? Evne if he’s wrong here i’ts hard not to understand why he’s so stubborn about it , for me at least.  Star leaves, and takes Ponycloak with her and they go to punch trees: Both to relive and because Pony hates tree. Probably because she went to tree court once and they tried to send her to tree jail. 

I mean she’ll probably get thrown back in there for this but still. Anyways the exerocisim comes. And NOW we can talk about this cult and.. while I understand why they never came back, they were really only necessary for this, I wish they had. I mean a mysterious cult with the power to restrain someone as strong as tom, acess to anti-magic chains the ONLY time we see something like this outside of the comission, and a hatred of demons includign referring to Tom as “Son of the blight” meaning they clearly hate and would destroy Wrathmelor if they could, yet also function as a perfectly legal orginzation the comission or the lucitors themselves haven’t swatted yet. There’s a LOT to unpack here they never did. The leader is also hliarious alteranting between creepy overlord and your dentist after a long apointment as a kid. But the ritual begins and it .. dosen’t go well with tom getting glowy blue lines and thrashing about.. just like me when i watched Ridciulous 6. I also felt my soul was leaving my body but that was just wishful thinking. The cultists run and star runs back to Tom and we get a truly powerful and romantic scene. Unable to free him, Star just.. holds him and is there for him as he goes through this. If she can’t help him she’ll be there for him. And it’s really touching.  We then cut to the hosptial tent at the cult, where the leader goes back to dad mode. Tom feels .. well worse, he just had surgery, as someone who had a tooth yanked out last month I can relate, and is suprised to see only one tiny soul demon as the sum of his anger. But it turns out, NOPE, being you know, the son of a rather powerful demon with a rather pwoerful b loodline, he’s FULL of them, and it woudl take 13 years to do this.. and tom’s naturally bummed because no one wants the equipvlent of having a wisdom tooth pulled a week for over a decade. Also because he now can’t get better.. but Star gently reassures him he’s already on the right track just by wanting to. As I said with most mental issues.. there’s no easy way out but it can get better if you put the work in and tom realizes.. there’s no quick way out after all. Just a long road.. but h’es not alone on it anyomore. But he at least gets a tiny demon in a jar and a toy out of the toychest for being a good boy.. and that’s nto me making shit up that’s the actual episode with him and star taking pinwheels and holding hands to Ponyhead’s annoyance. Which okay yeah they had a bad time last time I get tat Pony.. but your the last person to question ANYONE’S life decisions. Still I wish we’d had ane pisode of pony growing to accept them so we at least know WHY she’s so against it but oh well. 

Final Thoughts: This was a good one. Is it hte best the show’s put out? Probably not as the first part drags slightly but the second half at the demoncisim is just good character stuff, good comedy, and has a good payoff. I honestly like this way more on the second watch.  Though part of that is the context of the time: I admitted to being a starco shipper and having her get back with tom just felt like your standard “put a character in a relationship to complicate the main pairing” bullshit I always hate at this stage. Before anyone relaizes they like each other? Sure but at this point it was clearly just to drag things out. However with Marco getting progressivley worse and the two having good chemsitry.. I grew to like em.. and by the season finale, I just shipped all three together, before pivoting to marco and kelly. This couple grew on me for reasons w’ell geti nto as we go, even if it ended bad for reasons we’ll again get into. Oh we’ll get into them. With a knife. But yeah overall a great episode with a great concept, good character stuff, and some REALLY fucking funny gags. The show is damn good at comedy and I forget it sometimes. Next time we look at Tom, he’ll be in the background as Marco tries to help Kelly with a breakup. And sometime this month we’ll be looking at the halloween special which i’ll be watching for the very first time! So stay tuned, stay safe and Happy Halloween. 

[tearsofthemis]

Tears of Themis : Chapter 1 “Social Snobbery” Part 7 [Investigation Stage]

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

▌Location- QingPing Restaurant

(Xia Yan doubts that this case was caused by accidental food poisoning since it’s suspicious that pesticides known to cause harm to humans would be found in a restaurant where people are eating and drinking. And to make things troublesome, the accused is adamant that this was caused by his own negligence.)

MC: “Then let’s start looking into the pesticide and how it made its way into the restaurant. Even if the incident happened two weeks ago, there should be residual powder left.”

Xia Yan: “Yeah, the pesticide used in the restaurant and the spring water that came in contact with it are our main focal points right now.” We were interrupted by a phone notification. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and checked the voice message Zuo Ran left me.

Zuo Ran (voice message): “The case isn’t as simple as we thought it would be. Pay close attention to Fang Yuan. Call me if you run into trouble.” MC: (Lawyer Zuo shares similar doubts in regards to the case, and now he’s also suspecting foul play from Fang Yuan?)

Zuo Ran: “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

The sound of Zuo Ran’s voice startled me. I only then realized that I had accidentally dialed his number - and a video call at that.

MC: “!!!” ~~~In call~~~

Zuo Ran:

“Wrong number?”

“Forget it, you don’t need to apologize. As long as you’re okay.”

“The study guides for the intermediate exams… did you mean to leave them at the law firm?”

“That’s fair, the books are heavy and a nuisance to carry around.”

“Ah, there’s no need to worry that the case investigation will hinder your study progress, I’ll help you organize the key topics and questions for the exam.”

“No need to thank me. I’ll let you get back to work.”

~~~End call~~~

(After Zuo Ran hung up, I pressed a hand to my chest and let out the breath that I was holding.)

Xia Yan: “That person just now, was he your boss? You seem scared of him, is he bullying you?” MC: “Not at all. Lawyer Zuo is our firm’s executive elite lawyer, and a senior of mine. He’s one of the best in the industry. Although he’s strict, he would never bully juniors such as myself.” Xia Yan: “Really?”

MC: “Yes, really.” Xia Yan: “If you say so. Regardless of whether it’s work or personal troubles, you can rely on me to help you. I’ll have you know, I’m quite impressive myself.” MC: “Of course, Mr. Most-Impressive-Detective!~”

~~~Investigation starts!~~~

▌ [Examine powder sachets and mug]

MC: “Hai O’Sen powdered beverage? I’ve heard that this company’s wellness supplements have been all the rage these past two years.”

Xia Yan: “Consuming four or five packets in one go is way past the daily limit; overconsumption of supplements is harmful to the body.” (Xia Yan and I both reached out to grab the sachets, and our fingers touched. His fingertips felt hot against the back of my hand. I looked at our hands, then turned to look at Xia Yan.)

Xia Yan: “...We’re still so in sync, it’s like our brains work as one. C-cough! Why do you think Mr. Fang would consume so many packets?”

MC: “Ah… XinRan did mention that Mr. Fang has heart issues…” (What’s wrong with Xia Yan? He jerked his hand back as if he had gotten an electric shock. I pondered on what Xia Yan said earlier, and we gradually fell back into work mode.)

MC: “I think Mr. Fang’s been consuming supplements as placebo effects.”

Xia Yan: “But there ought to be side effects to his health if he’s been drinking so much of it…”

▌ [Examine receipt stuck under ledge]

Xia Yan: “Ow…” MC: “What’s wrong?” Xia Yan: “I cut my hand. There’s a piece of paper stuck under the cabinet, so I was trying to pull it out. My hands are too big, I can’t seem to grab it.”

MC: “Ha.. I’m sorry I can’t help but… laugh!” Xia Yan: “Then, may I inquire of this all-mighty lawyer with small hands to retrieve it? Ah, be careful not to cut yourself as well.”

(I’ve rarely seen Xia Yan be this deflated, and it’s probably unprofessional of me to be joking with him while we were working. I knelt down, and with the help of the flashlight on Xia Yan’s cell phone, I tried to free the piece of paper.)

MC: “Hu… it’s difficult. I got it! It’s a receipt.”

Xia Yan: “The time of purchase was two weeks ago, on Thursday. The item purchased was Insect Repellent 330…”

MC: “It’s an industrial pesticide, you usually won’t be able to purchase this from the stores here.”

Xia Yan: “The receipt also has the payment information. We have the first and last four digits of the credit card used for the transaction, so we can find the person that purchased the pesticide.”

▌ [Examine spring water container]

MC: “This should be the spring water sourced from YunXia mountain. The filling date is recorded on the side here. The production date is the same date as the incident. This jug is the same one that was delivered to the restaurant two weeks ago.” Xia Yan: “The container’s opening is narrow since it is to be placed on top of a dispenser for drinking. In this case, a pump would be affixed to it in order to retrieve the spring water. The likelihood of accidentally contaminating the spring water would be very difficult.”

MC: “That means whoever is behind the incident must have done it with malice.”

Xia Yan: “It’s a shame that the water container has been scrubbed clean of any other clues or fingerprints.”

▌ [Examine front door lock]

MC: “The door employs a fingerprint lock, and the door itself is free from any signs of forced entry. If the narrative is that this was a case of sabotage, then the culprit isn’t just anyone looking to extort money, but maybe one of the restaurant’s employees?”

Xia Yan: “To be more specific, the culprit would be anyone with fingerprint access, not necessarily just the employees. The restaurant’s employees would share liability if anything went wrong in the first place, so they would face the risk of being laid off. Especially if it was discovered that there was foul play, they would most likely be the ones to shoulder the repercussions. Unless one of them holds a personal grudge against Mr. Fang, under regular circumstances, an employee would have little motive to try and sabotage their workplace.”

MC: “But who else would have fingerprint access? Even XinRan had to ring the doorbell to get in. And there’s no way Mr. Fang would try and ruin his own livelihood…”

(I mulled over the possible suspects as Xia Yan pulled out a tablet from his bag and plugged it into the finger scanner’s power connector.)

MC: “Are you trying to…?”

Xia Yan: “To find the other people with access, all we gotta do is check the fingerprint IDs registered.”

▌ [Examine the water pump on the shelf]

Xia Yan: “This must be the pump that they attach to the spring water container.” ▌ [Examine water pump’s nozzle]

Xia Yan: “Look, there’s some yellow crystallization on here.”

MC: “Is this the leftover residue from the pesticide after it had dissolved in the water?” Xia Yan: “The amount of crystallization implies that the concentration of the dissolved pesticide was very high. But of course, this would be one of many possibilities.” MC: “One of many possibilities… What if someone rubbed the pesticide all over the spout? We can’t eliminate that theory, either. Regardless, we can say with certainty that Mr. Fang was lying when he claimed that the water was accidentally contaminated.”

▌ [Examine prints on water pump]

MC: “If only I had brought magnetic powder to lift these latent prints off of the water pump, then we could confirm whether or not anyone tampered with it.” Xia Yan: “You mean this stuff?”

(Xia Yan pulled a small bag filled with a powdery substance out of his shirt pocket.)

MC: “Why would you carry that around?”

Xia Yan: “As a professional, I gotta make sure I have all the tools on hand. How could I not take my gear everywhere?”

(Xia Yan used the magnetic powder and lifted several prints from the water pump. We have no way to cross-reference them at the moment.)

▌ [Examine pesticide packet in the drawer]

Xia Yan: “This must be the pesticide that Mr. Fang sent his runner to buy. The convenience store receipt was kept with it. It reads that the time of purchase was two weeks ago on Monday.”

MC: “Mr. Fang is a meticulous person. If it were me, I would’ve tossed the receipt two days after purchase. It says here, Mr. Fang purchased… Bugger-Off. Wait that’s not right, I recall that this type of insecticide is harmless to humans.” Xia Yan: “Yeah, it’s harmless towards mammals, which makes it suitable for use in households with pets. That reminds me, you used to be extremely scared of cockroaches when we were little. What about now? Are you still scared?”

MC: “We can still be friends if you drop this subject right now.”

▌ [Examine blue powder by the wine rack]

MC: “That’s strange, why can’t we find any trace of the pesticide that they claim they used? It would be counterintuitive if they sprinkled it on the ground and then wiped it up soon after.” Xia Yan: “That’s something worth looking into… Eh? There, by the corner of the wine rack, there are some traces of it left.” MC: “Judging by the blue color of the powder, it looks like any other insecticide you can buy on the market.”

Xia Yan: “It may look like it, but after we perform a compound analysis, we’ll be able to say for certain.”

MC: “Y-you even have equipment for that with you?!”

(I looked all around to see where Xia Yan would hide bunsen burners and beakers, kind of hoping that he could pull them out of thin air like magic.)

Xia Yan: “You don’t have to stare at me so intensely… we won’t need to actually test it using a chemistry kit…” (Xia Yan pulled a palm-sized device out of his bag. It looked like some sort of electronic screen with a thin dropper attached to it.)

Xia Yan: “This is the D-type Rapid Composition Tester that I modified; it’s capable of detecting common compounds.” MC: “D-type, huh… does that mean there’s an A-type, B-type, C-type that came before it? I doubt that you studied hard in your bio-engineering program.”

Xia Yan: “Wrong again, I graduated from my Master’s program with high honor distinctions!”

~~~Investigation ends!~~~

(After we finished preliminary investigations around the restaurant, Xia Yan and I sat down and discussed what we found. Xia Yan also took this time to run tests on the yellow crystals found on the nozzle of the water pump, as well as the pesticide sampled near the wine rack. The fingerprints lifted from the body of the water pump was compared to the fingerprint IDs registered in the door lock. On closer investigation, we also managed to lift fingerprints from the Insect Repellent 330 receipt. Lines of data and formulas appeared on Xia Yan’s computer, but they all looked like mumbo jumbo to me. I turned my attention to the cut on the back of his hand as it was starting to swell as it bled.)

MC: “We should take care of that cut on your hand.”

(I pulled out a packet of alcohol wipes and tried to not disturb Xia Yan as he worked.)

Xia Yan: “A cut? Where?”

(He smiled when he saw that I was staring at his hand with worry.)

Xia Yan: “Ah, I would’ve forgotten about it if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

MC: “Why are men always so careless. The underside of that cabinet probably hasn’t been wiped down in years. What if your cut gets infected?” (I pulled his hand toward me, and before he could complain, I unwrapped the alcohol wipe and dabbed it on his cut. I blew on it as the alcohol evaporated.)

MC: “Hang tight, it might sting a little. It’s a good thing that I always keep these disposable wipes when I go out for investigations. I often use them to disinfect things.”

Xia Yan: “...” (Xia Yan stayed quiet for a long time, so I looked up to glance at him. A pink blush settled on his cheeks, and it made his amber eyes look brighter than usual.)

MC: “Y-you…” Xia Yan: “Ah.. Uh… I’ll remember it well. Next... time, I’ll be careful. I’ll make sure you won’t have to worry.” MC: “Okay, as a hotshot detective, you better keep your word.”

I smiled at Xia Yan, and he turned even redder. He awkwardly coughed and scrambled to change the subject.

Xia Yan: “More on the results, there’s something questionable about both the fingerprints and the pesticide.”

-------

[Previous Part] | [Masterlist] | [Next Part]

-------

《CREDIT》 Translator: @humi-and-co​ Editor: @hallowsivy​​ 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo. 

《 VOICE ACTORS 》  Xia Yan | Jin Xian: https://weibo.com/riceranger Zuo Ran | Zhao Lu: https://weibo.com/mzhaolu Lu HaiYang | Zhang Pei: https://weibo.com/u/1937059462 Xue XinRan | V17-Su Wan: https://weibo.com/u/2925530143 Fang Yuan | Zhao Yang

《OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS》 Official website: https://bbs.mihoyo.com/wd/ Official WeChat account:  未定事件簿  Mihoyo official website: https://wd.mihoyo.com/

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer III: Amaterasu Blessed

When Anjou came into the lounge a few minutes later, Johann had already set up a small recuperation corner by putting together some chairs, taking sofa cushions for my back and putting the water dispenser closer to me. The old man chuckled.

“That reminds me, I haven’t approved your marriage application yet, Johann.”

“The school board has some concerns.” Johann said quietly. 

“Understandable ones. But I’ve already made up my mind.” He walked over and handed him what looked like a lipstick case. “This is my private seal. Once you two get back to the college, you’ll find the application in my left upper desk drawer.”

I frowned. “You’re not planning on dying, are you principal?”

“No my dear, I’m not.  But one should always be prepared, regardless. Now... that that’s out of the way, I can speak freely about your next assignment.”

He was looking at me, laughter in his eyes. “I need you to shadow Chisei Gen.” “Eh? But...”

“Do you really think he’s going to leave Japan with his siblings?”

I recalled his preparations earlier. “He’s not.” I said flatly.

“We have learned so much from your team reports in the last few days and yet we have only scratched the surface! Even if we have the ultimate weapon, we are still taking a shot in the dark. Chisei Gen is now the best source of intel we have.”

Johann and Nono had explained the Sword of Damocles to me. It wasn’t a sword at all, but a massive metal rod shot from space. The impact force and heat of the rod would be very similar to a meteor strike and would obliterate everything for miles, including a dragon.

But it would only be over its target every 90 minutes. And it would only be fired once.

“Then... why cut him loose?” I asked.

Anjou just smiled. “It is for the best that he tastes the freedom of his individual justice. He is a man without a mentor for the first time in a long time!”

“Uh.... then he might not appreciate me following him around then?” 

“He is also a Lonesome George by his own admission. Forgive me for saying so Johann.” He glanced briefly at him and turned to me again. “He is without equal in the world. And you are his kind. I don’t think he would turn you away. Quite the opposite.” He looked at Johann again. “No offense.”

Johann crossed his arms. Nono couldn’t hold back her snicker.

I blushed and changed the subject. “By the way... has anyone heard from Mingfei?”

Johann shook his head. “He’s probably hiding somewhere safe. You’re not worrying about him?”

I tilted my head in thought. “No... I think he’s okay. I wonder if he’s walking here. Poor guy didn’t have a helicopter like I did.”

Anjou was unconcerned. “Oh... I’m sure he’ll turn up when he’s needed. He always does. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be herding those crazy Gear Department Cats.”

“ 辛苦你了”(Thanks... sorry.) I said as he departed.

I wanted so much to sleep. I was exhausted from everything. But just as I was drifting off, my phone vibrated next to me. I picked it up. Unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Carli?”

“Eh? Chisei?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“I... just wanted to say, I’m sorry.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to bring it up again. I meant it.” I said. Johann was watching me. I was nervous now, talking to another guy right in front of him. It was a for a mission. I knew he wouldn’t say anything or take it personal. That didn’t make it right in my eyes. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going back to the shrine. To get Erii and Chime on the next flight out of here.”

“I imagine things are pretty booked...”

“It won’t be an issue for me. I’ll also be  putting in my final instructions for Hydra.”

“So you’ve decided not to leave.”

“I can’t Carli. I was just looking at all these people leaving Tokyo. They’re probably going to die before they get out. They’re here, each car has a family. Each family is trying to stay calm, holding onto each other. After everything I’ve done, it’s not right for me to leave with my family.”

I sighed. “I’ve told you what I wanted but... if this is your justice then, that’s something I can respect.” 

“Thanks.”

I smiled, recalling Anjou’s words. “Sorry... if this sounds weird... but I can I come see you at the shrine please?”

“W...why?”

“Because... I’ve been thinking about what we talked about earlier. I’m more curious now about what your justice looks like. Your future plans for Hydra.”

“Won’t Anjou have something to say about you suddenly leaving?”

“Mmm...” I glanced at Johann. “Anjou is a smart man. If he cared, he would have said something by now. It’s obvious he knows I care about your welfare a lot. I still remember the way there. It’s a unique place.”

“Then... it’s fine.” He hung up.

Johann looked at me. “Anjou was right. At this point, he doesn’t have anyone else to talk to.”

I slid my legs over the side of the couch. Johann helped me get up. 

When I arrived at the shrine, stepping out of the void, it was raining, but I had an umbrella. I still wore the traditional Miko clothing he’d given me earlier. Chisei was already in the shrine, surrounded by priests, flowers and candlelight. I left my umbrella outside the dark space and knelt quietly on the tatami. 

He didn’t look at me or greet me. Instead he looked at someone near him with a traditional inkwell and parchment scroll.. “Write down what I’m saying.’

“I am Patriarch Gen Chisei, 74th generation patriarch of the Hydra. I am ashamed of the ancestors of the family. Our unforgivable errors have caused a disaster in Japan. Starting tomorrow, I will transfer all the powers of the patriarch to Sakurai Nanami, the head of the Sakurai family. She is the 75th Patriarch.”

“After me, family members should follow the instructions of their ancestors and must not pursue the dragon corpse for strength and power. Those who violate that prohibition will be executed by the family.”

“To avoid harming the innocent, the devils in the asylums should be well cared for. In every devil is our family blood. If we treat them kindly, they will be with us. If we abandon them in the wilderness, they will retaliate against us...”

He handed over all control, including contacts, access to buildings, property ownership and passwords to sensitive files. The rain had stopped and things were starting to clear up.

When he was finally done, he looked at the secretary. “Is it all written down?”

The secretary handed him the parchment which he read. He took a small knife, pricked his finger and smeared the blood on his ring. He pressed the ring to the parchment, leaving his signature on it.

He handed it back to him. “Make a copy, seal the original and give both to Nanami Sakurai.”

“Tomorrow, I will be an ordinary person. But today, please come to the battle with me.”

I felt the warmth on my back and looked over my shoulder. The sun had broken over the horizon and spilled its light into the shrine, on the priests and onto Chisei.

He looked so peaceful. Perhaps, I thought, I could believe he really was Amaterasu-no-Mikoto. 

He met me at the entrance. “At such a time like this, you can smile like that.”

I stood up, still mindful of my healing wound. “I just felt really happy for you.”

“I’ll be sending Erii and Chime away now... Is... Mingfei alright?”

“Oh he’s fine.” I waved dismissively. 

“I wanted to thank him in person. But... if you could....” He beckoned me to follow him.

He took me to a back chamber of the shrine complex. Erii was sitting in the corner, looking like me in Miko clothes, while Chime, dressed in priest clothing, still couldn’t seem to look his brother in the eye. 

“The helicopter leaves in 5 minutes.” Chisei hugged him gently.

“Are you... going to come back?” Chime again had that weak, weak voice.

“I can’t promise you that but I’ll do my best.”

“If only I could...”

Chisei cut him off. “You can’t... and you know why. If you went out there, I’d lose you... forever.”

Chime looked profoundly stunned. “I don’t... understand. The King should have pursued me. But he didn’t. I don’t understand why...”

Erii held up a notepad that read. “Brother, what’s going on out there?”

“It’s very bad, Erii.” Chisei opened Erii’s suitcase full of clothes that Mingfei and Johann had mailed to them. “Here, put these on. I’ll teach you your new identities.”

While he was doing that, I approached Chime. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He hung his head in shame. 

I waved my hand at him. “I’m like your brother. I can’t be killed so easy.” I had a sudden thought. “Chisei, after this is over, I’ll send you a bit of my blood for Chime. With the injection it will help prevent his ghost persona from returning.”

I turned back to Chime, “Your Soul Skill, you shouldn’t use it. If you do, there’s a risk you might be lost.”

He nodded. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I do!” I gave him a victory sign. “Invite me to your first Kabuki performance! That is... whereever you’re going!”

Chime looked away from me, in a daze. “This... doesn’t feel real.”

“Want me to pinch you?” I asked playfully. 

“Uh...”

“Here.” 

“Don’t!” He flinched away.

I laughed.

“She has too much energy.” Chisei moved to shield him from me. “Change into the clothes I’ve left for you, also, here’s your ID, a bank card and a phone. Don’t tell anyone your original names. Only use the name on your passports.”

He leaned over and kissed Erii on the cheek. “I haven’t done much for you in these years. Not even as much as Mingfei did in this last week...”

Chisei’s voice grew hoarse and he abruptly stopped talking. He just hugged her again.

My smile faded and I looked away.

Once Chime had changed into casual clothes, Chisei led us out to where a bullet proof Benz was already waiting. He put Erii in the backseat and stroked her hair before giving Chime another hug.

I kept my distance. Chisei said something to Chime I couldn’t hear, but the younger brother burst into sobbing. “Don’t go, Chisei, please. Please come with us!”

Chisei held him close, not answering, instead, guiding him to the car. Chime dug his heels in, going into a full-blown panic. “The King is going to kill you. He will! I know he will!”

“Hey!” I shouted. “I won’t let that happen!”

Chisei sighed. 

“I mean it! This whole situation is kind of my doing you know? If I don’t follow through to the end it would wrong!” I blinked away my tears. “If Chisei doesn’t come back alive then... well, neither will I. Understand?”

Chime looked at me like I was his only hope and I really felt like I was. It was only then that he got into the car.

The vehicle drove away and I watched it. Chisei glanced over at me and I just looked back at him. “There was no way he was going to get on that plane without something, Chisei.”

“Did Anjou send you?”

“You...” I laughed. “Called me.”

[binkysteebnpewter]

All of them 😤

Ehehe 😂💗

1. What’s your middle name, and do you like it?

Grace is actually my middle name, and somewhat. I just don’t like it when my family calls me by first and middle together.

2. are you artistic?

Somewhat?

3. Have you had your first kiss?

Yes

4. What is your life goal?

It’s cheesy and a little cliche, but I want to find Home.

5. Do you have any experiences with a famous person?

Nope

6. Do you play any sports?

Not anymore but I used to play football and I was on the wrestling team in HS

7. What’s your worst fear?

I have two that are sort of equal with another but I’m afraid of losing the people I care about and people seeing me the way I see myself.

8. Who’s your biggest inspiration?

My late Nana, Gloria.

9. Do you have any cool talents?

Answered in previous ask

10. are you a morning person?

Not at all

11. How do you feel about pet names?

I love them

12. Do you like to read?

Absolutely

13. Name a list of shows that have changed your life.

NCIS, Criminal Minds, and any marvel movie

14. Do you care about your follower count?

Not really, I’ll celebrate milestones but that’s just to show everyone I appreciate them following my trash pile. I didn’t start writing to have a high following, I started writing to better my skill and also make people happy.

15. What’s the best dream you’ve had?

I don’t remember most of my happy dreams

16. Have you ever kissed someone of your same gender?

Yep!

17. Do you have any pets?

I have three dogs 🥺💗

18. Are you religious?

No. They only thing I actually believe in is ghosts.

19. Are you a people person?

Not really

20. Are you considered popular?

Nope, and I don’t care to be

21. What is one of your bad habits?

Overthinking

22. What’s something that makes you feel vulnerable?

Opening up my emotions to other people

23. What would you name your children?

No clue

24. Who’s your celebrity crush?

There’s a bunch ig

25. What’s your best subject?

Science and history

26. Dogs or cats?

Dogs, I love cats but I’m super allergic

27. most used social media besides tumblr?

I don’t use a lot of social media tbh, so tumblr is probably my most used unless you count youtube

28. best friends name

Duke

29. who does your main family consist of

My friends and my brother. Family isn’t just blood

30. Chocolate or sugar

Both

31. have you ever been on a date?

Yep

32. Do you like rollercosters?

Absolutely love them

33. Can you swim?

Yes 💗

34. What would you do in the event of an apocolypse?

Clearly, I’d do what everyone else does. Panic and try to survive.

35. Have you struggled with any kind of mental disorder?

Yes, I struggle with anxiety and depression

36. Are your parents together?

Nope.

37. What’s your favourite colour?

Dark green and Dark Blue

38. What country are you from/do you live in?

Unfortunately, the U.S

39. Favourite singer?

Uh... there’s too many to list? But my favorite people to listen to is The Oh Hellos

40. Do you see yourself being famous some day?

Nope, I run from being the center of attention.

41. Do you like dresses?

Not really

42. Favourite song right now?

Fly Me To The Moon by Frank Sinatra

43. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Sort of.

44. How old were you when you first got your period?

No clue, I don’t remember

45. Have you ever shot a gun?

Yep

46. Have you ever done yoga?

No

47. Are you a horror girl?

YES 😈

48. Are you good at giving advice?

I suppose I am?

49. Tell us a story about your childhood.

I don’t have a lot of happy memories but one that sticks out is: I used to go to a private Christian academy and I was in first grade when this boy in eighth grade (the entire school was k-12) came over to me during my lunch. I was super scared and shy as a kid so my schedule was tailored so I was able to eat lunch with my brother whose nine years older than me. Our mom forgot to pack our lunches so we were gonna just get some stuff from the vending machine, well my brother gave me my money to get something and this boy came over to me before I could put it in the vending machine. He hit me and took my money, buying himself something with it. My brother seen it and got into a fight with him.

50. How are you doing today?

Eh

51. Were you a cute kid?

I looked like Shirley Temple when I was a kid

52. Can you dance?

I can swing dance and slow dance, but that’s it.

53. Is there anything you do that you can’t remember ever not doing?

I always look for exits and bathrooms when I go somewhere, I’ve always done it 🤷🏻‍♀️

54. Have you ever dyed your hair?

No because I’m a ginger. I can’t just dye it back if I end up not liking the color I dyed it to.

55. What colour are your eyes?

Brown

56. What’s your favourite animal?

Answered in previous ask

57. Have you ever made a huge fool of yourself?

Multiple times

58. Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

My relationship with my dad is rocky but my relationship with my mother went up in flames a few yeaes ago 🤷🏻‍♀️

59. Do you have good friends?

I have some amazing friends🥺💗

60. Are you close with anyone of the lgbtq+ group?

Yep!

61. What’s your favourite class?

My favorite class was Psychology

62. List all the tv shows you are watching.

I’m rewatching Criminal Minds right now.

63. Are you organized?

Somewhat?

64. What was the last movie you saw? Opinion?

I don’t know if it counts as a movie but I just finished a Ted Bundy Tapes Documentary. I think Bundy was a little bit of an idiot.

67. Which tv character do you relate to most?

Spencer Reid

68. What are some things that stand between you and complete happiness?

Anxiety, Depression, overthinking

69. If you received enough money to never need to work again, what would you spend your time doing?

I would probably still work, I’m not a fan of sitting around and doing nothing for large amounts of time.

70. What would you change about your life if you knew you would never die?

Find a way to die, I don’t want to live forever. That’s just torture 👀

71. What would you do differently if you knew that no one was judging you?

Nothing. I’ll act the same as I always have because I am who I am, there’s no reason to change yourself from when someone is watching and when someone isn’t.

72. If you could start over, what would you do differently?

A lot 😂

73. Would you break the law to save a loved one?

Yep

74. When was the last time you travelled somewhere new?

I went to Disney with my Chorus Class in Junior Year of HS, it was my first time to Disney.

75. When you think of your home, what immediately comes to mind?

Nothing, I’m looking for Home. Home will be someone I feel safe with, someone I can be completely myself with— someone I love wholly.

76. What have you done to pursue your dreams lately? How about today?

I— idk?

77. What did you want to be when you were a kid?

I wanted to be a nurse 🤦🏻‍♀️

78. If you dropped everything to pursue your dreams, what would you be risking?

Im not sure

79. When did you not speak up, when you know you really should have?

Ooh... uh, something happened to me all through 7th, 8th, and 9th grade that I should’ve spoken up about but was too scared.

80. Describe the next five years of your life, and your plans, in a single sentence.

I will work hard to love myself and pursue my dream job.

81. What would happen if you never wasted another minute of your life, what would that look like?

No clue tbh

82. If you could live forever, how would you spend eternity?

I don’t want to live forever but I guess I’d find a way to take away my immortality or find someone else who is immortal to love

83. How would you spend a billion dollars?

Id put a lot into important causes and then save some with interest.

84. If you could time travel, would you go to the past or the future?

I’m not sure, I think I wouldn’t go anywhere because I want to live in the moment. Except 2020, fuck 2020.

85. What motivates you to succeed?

Failure motivates me to succeed.

86. What dream that you’ve had has resonated with you the most?

I don’t remember most of my happy dream, I usually can only remember the nightmares 🤷🏻‍♀️

87. Would you rather live in the city or the woods? Why?

Woods, its peaceful.

88. Do you believe in life after death?

I don’t really believe in anything 🤷🏻‍♀️

89. What teacher inspired you the most? How did they?

I had a teacher named Ms Eagan and she inspired me to always be myself.

90. What’s your fondest childhood memory?

Meeting Lily

91. If you could have dinner with any one person, living or dead, who would they be and why?

Lily, because I really miss her.

92. What would you have to see to cry tears of joy?

Anyone being nice to me makes me cry—

93. What is the hardest lesson you had to learn in life?

Sometimes the people you call family don’t truly love you.

94. What do you think happens after we die?

Idk and idrc either tbh

95. What would you do if you would be invisible?

I’d probably scare some people

96. What’s something you can’t do no matter how hard you try?

Speak in public or ask for something at restaurants

97. Would you want to choose the sex and appearance of your offspring?

Eh

98. How did your first crush develop?

They were nice to me when no one else was

99. Is there a feeling you are trying to ignore? What is it?

Yes, I’m trying to ignore how upset some people can really make me.

100. Do you live or do you just exist?

I think I’m somewhere in between, where sometimes I’m just existing and sometimes I’m living.

[msjr0119]

Cordonian Wags

Introduction

In a world full of Professional footballers and their demanding wives- can their football team nicknamed the ‘Cordonian Apples’ succeed? An American female physiotherapist joins the club. Will this cause issues with the footballers wives?

*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry- AU Plot switch*

Disclaimer- Mention of drug use!

I’d like to thank @pedudley for being such a superstar supporting me, listening to me ramble on with ideas about this series prior to posting - you’re amazing babe! 😘🥰

Tags: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012

*******

Riley Brooks, a sports physiotherapist- closely worked with football teams in UK. Born and raised in New York, she decided to spread her wings and study in England, when her parents had passed away. Her first job after graduating was with Manchester City- this is where she met her husband, the clubs striker Xavier López. Scrutinising job opportunities for physios, she decided to take the risk and accept the job in a completely new country. There were plenty of opportunities within the UK but she needed a fresh start.

Riley arrived in Cordonia - the little unheard of country that provided breathtaking views. It was like stepping into a fairytale. The blue sea was crystal clear- that you could see the fish swimming without taking much notice. The scattered hills provided a stunning landscape. The country itself was clean throughout and provided a friendly atmosphere.

Arriving at the Applewood Stadium, she contemplated what she was actually doing. Was she crazy? Possibly. If I don’t try- I’ll live to regret for not trying. The stadium was tiny in comparison to what she was used to. The contract she was due to sign was only for the new season. She had spoken to the teams coach, Bertrand Beaumont over the phone. Today was the day she was meeting him in person as well as the chairman Constantine Rhys. Pulling up to the security gate, she showed her ID - the security guard knew that they were expecting her and had offered to escort her to the chairman’s office once she had parked up.

****

Leo Rhys snuck into his house at 5am, still intoxicated. He knew his wife Madeleine would berate him the second she laid eyes on him. Stumbling around, he lost his balance and went flying into the expensive large vase. Laughing to himself on the floor, he knew he was going to be in dog house- yet again. Madeleine walked into the grand hallway- her arms folded, and her eyes narrowed providing daggers at her husband.

“And where the hell have you been? You have training soon!” She snapped- knowing full well that he will have been at the strip club again.

“Oh Maddy. You know what I do. I hate you. I do these things to live because quite frankly you irritate the fuck out of me!”

Madeline stormed off. She had only married him due to his status in the team - the captain. People called her a gold digger, she was and she didn’t care. She knew what she wanted and she cunningly got it.

Sneaking off to her bathroom, she created three identical fine lines before she snorted the white powder. You need sex to live darling, I need this to try and forget all the scandals you cause.

*****

Drake Walker rolled over in the king sized bed- reaching out for his girlfriend Kiara. However she wasn’t next to him. When they first began courting it was amazing. They were known as the perfect couple- ‘couple goals’. Kiara was very career minded and an independent woman. Their relationship had ‘fizzled out’ since she had began her new job- she was multilingual and worked as a translator for a local law firm. She wasn’t the usual type of footballers wife, she earned her own money. There had been suspicions by the press that Kiara had been unfaithful to Drake - these accusations constantly jeopardised her career. His friends and sister had advised him to end his relationship with her. Deep down he wanted to- but he felt like wasn’t worthy for anyone, so just accepted their failing relationship that was full of lies and deceit.

“Ki? Where are you?”

“Sorry. I went to work.”

“But it’s 6am!”

“Early start Drake. I’ll see you later, I don’t know what time?”

“Kiara have you forgotten? It’s the first day of training and the pre season party tonight!”

“Oh...good luck honey. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make the party. Have a good time.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“See ya.”

Drake just sighed after the phone call. Recently he kept making excuses up for Kiara’s absence- much to the annoyance and frustration of his friends. Tonight was going to be deja vu - ‘Drake Walker the mug’.

*****

Liam Rhys and his wife Olivia, were sat in their sun lounge having a light breakfast. Olivia was frustrated with Liam- he had been offered a transfer to Real Madrid last season but wanted to stay loyal to his home country and his family. Threatening to divorce him didn’t even make him reconsider his decision.

“I see that your brother is in the papers again.” Olivia snarled, whilst flicking through the papers.

“Liv, don’t start.”

“Why he is still the captain I will never understand. If anything he should be on the bench! He is an embarrassment to this club.”

“Love, that he may be. But it’s Leo. He’s always been the same. Maddy puts up with him - forgives him every time.”

“You deserve to be the captain Liam. You work the hardest out of all those plebs.”

Liam shook his head. He didn’t want all that responsibility of being the captain. No matter how much of a poor husband his brother was- he was a successful striker.

*****

Zeke and Penelope were the only couple in the club who had a family. They had two beautiful girls. Before training began, he always wanted to spend quality time with his daughters - taking them out for a rides on their ponies. Family time was precious.

“Go on Emma! Go on Emily! You girls are doing amazing!” Zeke shouted proudly to his daughters.

“They have definitely improved with their riding skills.” Penelope said, snuggling into her husbands embrace.

“I could watch them all day. Did you manage to get a sitter for tonight?”

“Yes, Amber offered to look after the girls and the poodles. She will be here at 5pm. Are you glad to be going back to training?”

“What do you think? I’d rather spend time with my family and our animals. I need to check Sterling’s leg before I go- he was limping a bit. Hence why Emily is riding Lady instead.”

“You really should have become a vet instead of a footballer darling. Well, good luck. I’ll see you later on.”

*****

Maxwell Beaumont, the coaches younger brother felt pressure at every match. He was the teams goalkeeper, his best friend Hana supported him, and socialised with the teams Wags. Their friendship had blossomed over the years, secretly into something more- both of them denied it when their relationship was questioned.

“Hey. Are you ready for the first training session? I’ve brought you some breakfast.”

“Thank you- you’re the best! And don’t remind me...Bertrand has been drilling it in my mind to be punctual. To concentrate and to not embarrass him.”

“Max I believe in you. What will be will be eh?”

“Yep.... I wonder how much trouble Leo is in this morning? He’s in the papers again.”

“This is why I always advise you to not go out with him- he’s a bad influence.”

“Hana, I go out with him to drink- not to do the rest of the activities he chooses. And we know why I go out drinking with him. To stop speculations about our relationship.”

*****

Bertrand was waiting in the chairman’s office along with the chairman Constantine and his wife Regina. They were all nervous about meeting their new physio. They had interviewed her over the phone and fell in love with her ambition. Would the men accept a female physio? Would they retaliate? The club had no choice- there wasn’t much interest in the position. The other interested candidates qualifications and experience didn’t compare to what Riley had. They didn’t want to tell the team straight away, in case she rejected the offer last minute. There was a slight knock on the door. Bertrand stood up to answer, and greeted her with a friendly smile.

“Hello. You must be Riley. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“You are correct. Nice to meet you Mr Beaumont.”

“Welcome to Cordonia, Mrs López.”

“Thank you, Sir. Your country is absolutely beautiful. But please call me Miss Brooks. Myself and my husband have separated.”

“I do apologise- I don’t know how you must be feeling? But we are thrilled to welcome you to our club. Bertrand has the contract ready for you to sign. Then we will take you on a tour of the stadium- the team aren’t due for training for another hour. We thought you’d like to accompany us to the pre season party tonight and we will formally introduce you to everyone?”

“Oh. I was hoping to have an early night. To be prepared for tomorrow. I need the players to fill out some medical forms so I know what I’m working with.”

“I like a woman who is determined and prepared- I knew you was the perfect candidate for the role. But there’s no need to rush into your role. Our first match isn’t for another week. And we would like you to enjoy yourself too.”

“Okay, I’ll come tonight. Just let me know the time. I’ll do some preparation after the tour.”

******

The men each showed up to training. Bertrand was smiling - they all looked at him bewildered. He never smiled, he was strict with them all- even the chairman’s sons.

“Welcome back gentlemen. I’ve got a good feeling about this new season. We will just have a quick session today as we all need to get ready for the annual pre season party - and the chairman wants to introduce you all to someone later....Right let’s get to it.”

Riley stood, watching in the background- trying not to gain attention. She wanted to view how they played as a team. Hoping that there wouldn’t be too many injuries whilst she was in Cordonia. On the tour, Bertrand showed her pictures of the men and explained their positions- whilst watching them train she figured out who was who.

“Hi. You must be Riley.”

Riley jumped before turning around to see a mystery brunette smiling at her softly- whilst holding a toddler in her arms.

“Erm. Yes. Nice to meet you...?”

“Sorry! My manners. My name is Savannah Beaumont- Bertrand’s wife. Drake Walker is my brother. I hear that you are from the States? Myself and Drake are American too- on our mothers side. I hope you’ll settle in just fine. They aren’t a bad bunch really.” Is she kidding? I’ve been watching them for ten minutes and already their egos are getting the best of them and they are already arguing.

“No offence Savannah, but I know you are lying about them not being a bad bunch. I know how footballers minds work. I’m married to one myself. Yes, I grew up in New York but I moved to the UK where I studied and later worked in Manchester.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were married- I suppose the wedding ring gives it away huh?” Riley twiddled her rings with her thumb before laughing nervously.

“I won’t be married for much longer. We have separated- I started the ball rolling with the divorce before I left. That is why I came here when the opportunity came up. A fresh start.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Riley. If you ever need anyone to talk to I’m here.”

“Thank you. But I’m only here to do a job. Then when the season is up- I’ll move on. I’m going to go to my flat, I’ve seen enough. I’ll see you at the party?”

“Yes, you will. See you later.”

Just this brief conversation, made Savannah’s mind work overtime. She believed that Riley was intelligent, she was beautiful. She couldn’t suss out why she would be separated- she didn’t want to elaborate on the situation and seem nosey.

*****

Drake pulled Liam to the side after noticing his sister talking to a stranger, whilst they were stretching. Savannah wasn’t one to socialise with people she didn’t know.

“Who’s Sav talking to?”

“I don’t know? Why? She’s probably one of Leo’s flings. You know how they all come and stalk him after he uses them. She’s gorgeous- don’t tell Liv I said that. She would stab me - quite literally!”

“I doubt Savannah would be acting so calm with one of your brothers flings Li. If Bertrand asks where I am- just tell him that Sav needed me.”

Drake ambled over to where his sister was - she was content sat under the tree with his nephew, Bartie. The mystery woman had disappeared, like a ghost. Taking his top off, he wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“Hey Sav.”

Savannah was playing with her son, not noticing the figure appear beside her. Feeling like she had a mini heart attack- she was ready to throttle her brother.

“Drake! You scared me! Your brother in law will go berserk if you’re not training.”

“So? Who was you talking to?”

“Why do you ask?” She smirked.

“Just curious. Liam assumed she is one of Leo’s flings.”

“Incorrect. You’ll see her tonight.”

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise, I’ll see you and Kiara at the party.”

“It’ll just be me. She’s erm... she’s...”

“Cheating on you Drake. You always seem to make excuses up for her. Since she started that job nobody has seen her- the press have snapped pictures of her with mystery men. You deserve better, big brother.”

“They are her colleagues, Sav!”

“Oh really? What’s the excuse going to be tonight Drake? I love you, I just want you to be happy.”

Savannah held her brother in a tight hug. She walked away furious with Kiara’s actions.

[sunniebelle]

31 Days of Doctor Who Fics- A Chance Encounter

Ten x Rose AU

With flights cancelled, two strangers decide to drive across England to get to their destination. Is it friendship that they feel or could it be something more?

A03

Rose Tyler held back a groan of frustration as another teller informed her that her flight, and indeed, all flights leaving the airport were cancelled. Even better news was no one knew how long it would take to get them going again.

Letting a breath slowly out through her nose, so she doesn’t scream in frustration, she turned and walked back to the crowded waiting area of the airport.

Trying not to look at anyone around her, she takes the first seat she finds. It just so happens to be next to a very handsome man with really great hair and a pair of specs that admittedly look really sexy on him. Trying to control her thoughts and her blush, she settles her handbag at her feet and tries to look anywhere but at him.

“Flights still cancelled, eh?”

God, even his voice is sexy. Beginning to wonder if she accidentally ingested an aphrodisiac, she turns to find a pair of chocolate-brown eyes staring back at her.

“Yes, unfortunately. And apparently no one knows when they’ll be running again.” She shouldn’t—she never knows when paparazzi are going to spring out of nowhere for a photo of the Vitex heiress—but she can’t seem to help herself, so she extends her hand out to him.

“I’m Rose, by the way. Rose Tyler.”

His grip is firm, his hand warm, as he shakes her hand. “Doctor Johnathan McCrimmon. Tyler. Tyler. Why does that name sound familiar? Wait, are you related to Peter Alan Tyler? The owner of Vitex?”

“’S my father.” She tries to hide a smile as his eyes get huge.

“You’re the Vit—” he nearly shouts, before she shushes him.

“You’re the Vitex heiress?!” he asks in a loud whisper. “Blimey. Never thought I’d find myself talking to an heiress. Good businessman, Peter Tyler. But I got to say that Vitex drink is rubbish.”

At her snort of laughter he seems to realize what he just said and is turning a delightful shade of red.

“Sorry, that was rude wasn’t it. My sister, Donna, is always going on about how rude I am. Rude and not ginger, that’s me.”

“It’s alright. I don’t much care for it either. Just don’t tell my dad or the press that.”

Seeing his smile, she’s pretty sure if she were standing, she’d be going weak in the knees.

“So then, Rose Tyler. What brings you to the airport?”

Over the next two hours they talk about random things, laughing and teasing each other like they were old friends getting reacquainted.

Neither one of them really seemed to want to leave the other’s company, but they did have places to be, so the Doctor—as she had started to call him, just to see his smile, and the crinkles around his eyes that would appear, when she did so—offered to go check on the flight details.

A few minutes later he came back with the same—but slightly worse— information, instead of an unknown period of time, it was now indefinitely.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. You said you have to get to Edinburgh, yeah? I’m going to Carlisle, and it’s only a couple hours further to Edinburgh. What if we drove?”

He sat back in his seat, seeming to think about this. “Excellent idea, actually. We could split the cost of a rental and petrol, and make it there before dark, at least to Carlisle anyway. Certainly better than waiting here for a flight that might never happen.”

She gave him a tongue touched smile and flushed a bit when his gaze landed on her mouth. She pulled out her mobile and within a few minutes had arranged for a car to be dropped off at the front entrance of the airport.

“Um, Rose? Uh, I think they’ve found you.”

She looked up to see what he was referring to, and her heart sank to see several paparazzi making their way through the crowds over to her. 

Suddenly Johnathan’s hand was clasped in hers, and when she looked up at him, he had a manic smile on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Run!” he whispered, pulling her to her feet. 

They made their way through the crowd, barely getting apologies out as they jostled people and tried to avoid knocking anyone over in their hurry. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much.

When they got to the entrance, they made it past security with a flash of their ID’s. Although she didn’t hear what Johnathan said to the officer, she noticed that the half dozen camera-wielding men got trapped at the door.

She didn’t know if it was karma, providence, or just really excellent timing, but their rental car was pulling up to the curb just as the paparazzi managed to make their way through security. 

Dashing to the car, Rose signed the form in a hurry that the man was droning on about, while Johnathan started the car. Once she was in the car, they were driving away just as the group of photographers reached the curb.

For the space of several heartbeats there was silence in the car, then they were suddenly laughing hysterically. It wasn’t until their sides ached and Johnathan complained about not being able to see for the tears in his eyes, that they stopped laughing and teasing each other about their little getaway adventure.

When Rose looked down at her feet, she noticed the bag she’d forgotten about in all the madness. Realizing he must have grabbed it for her, she suddenly leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. Her face reddened when he quickly turned his head to her, his eyes large and the surprise evident on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked, obviously having to make an effort to focus on his driving instead of looking at her.

“Sorry, I...well, thank you.” She said, her words escaping her.

“What? I mean, you’re welcome? What did I do that required thanking, though? I didn’t really even do anything.”

“Actually you did. First you helped me escape a very awkward situation that could have been quite the spectacle. And second...I don’t know when the last time was I had such fun. And certainly never while trying to escape the paparazzi.”

He smiled that make-her-knees-go-weak smile at her again. “You’re most welcome, Rose Tyler.”

An hour later they agreed to stop for tea and a rest. Rose marveled a bit that she was so comfortable with this man who was practically a complete stranger. Their conversation through tea and during their drive never seemed to lull; their topics ranged far and wide, and their laughter was frequent.

Roughly five hours later, she was directing him to her destination, her voice subdued now that their time together was drawing to a close. It was only then that the silence became heavy.

Sitting in front of the building, Rose finally glanced over and caught him staring at her. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out. When his jaw snapped shut and he turned his head to face the front, she spoke.

“I’m suddenly really glad our planes got cancelled, Doctor, otherwise I might never have met you.” She felt oddly choked up, forcing herself to swallow the lump gathering in her throat.

She leaned towards him and gave him another lingering kiss on the cheek, her fingers tracing his sideburns. As she pulled back, he surged forward and captured her lips in a tender, lingering kiss that made tears burn behind her eyes. She felt his hand cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing softly against her jaw.

What was it about this man that made her feel like she was leaving part of her heart behind?

“I really don’t like goodbyes, and I really hope that this is not one. So at the risk of being extremely presumptuous, I’ll say see you later, Rose Tyler.” He whispered against her lips, causing a tingling sensation to race down her spine.

“Me, too.” she said.

She reached into her purse and pulled out her business card, tucking it into his lapel pocket.

Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her bag and got out of the car. 

Her steps slowed the closer she got to the door. Her mind adamantly told her to keep walking.  

Not knowing what she would find or what would happen, she turned around, her eyes and heart searching for the chocolate-brown orbs of one unforgettable man.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part of @writersmonth Writing Challenge for August 2019. All rights for Doctor Who and it's characters belong to the BBC. Day 4 prompt: road trip 

(Also tagging @doctorroseprompts)

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.18: Arena

AKA: Lizard in the Sky With Diamonds

Our episode begins with a landing party (Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and a ‘shirt of each color, to balance things out) assembling in the transporter room. Off to one side, Kirk is telling McCoy, “You’ll enjoy Commodore Travers. He sets a good table.” McCoy seems pretty happy about this, and who could blame him—the last guy who put them up didn’t set a good table at all. He wonders if Travers brought his personal chef with him to the planet they’re visiting, Cestus 3. “Rank hath its privileges,” Kirk says. “How well we both know that,” McCoy chuckles. Bones...have you ever used your rank for anything? Do you know even know what your rank is?

A message comes in on the transporter comm from Travers, saying he’s waiting for them—oh, and he wants Kirk to bring his best tactical people because he’s got an interesting problem for them. Spock thinks this is odd and wonders why Travers wants tactical people, but Kirk shrugs it off, saying Travers probably just wants all the help he can get since his colony is exposed and on the edge of nowhere. Spock still thinks it’s weird, but McCoy is like SHUT UP SPOCK THEY’RE FEEDING US.

Spock’s trepidation notwithstanding, the landing party gets into position and beams down. The moment they materialize, though, it’s clear that something has gone horribly wrong.

[ID: McCoy, Spock, Kirk, and three Enterprise crewmen, one in red, one in blue, and one in gold, standing on a open patch of scorched dirt. Kirk is leaning over his communicator and saying “Kirk to Enterprise. Red alert.” into it, while everyone else looks back at the remains of a curved wall behind them.]

does this mean dinner’s canceled?

Kirk calls up the ship and issues a red alert. Asked why, he says, quite bluntly, “Cestus 3 has been destroyed,” then hangs up while the person on the other end is presumably still going “wait, what.”

After the titles, the landing party makes a run for the nearest bit of cover, where Kirk orders Spock to scan for signs of life. This all happened several days ago, he muses, meaning that the messages asking them to come visit the colony must have been faked. He orders the goldshirt (Lang) to go in one direction to look for survivors, the blueshirt (Kelowitz) to go in another direction, and the redshirt (O’Herlihy) to stay with them.

A moment later, Spock picks up some very weak lifesigns, so the remaining four of them head off to go investigate. As they walk Kirk gives us a recap via captain’s log: we were invited to Cestus 3, landed to find it completely destroyed, do they call this hospitality because I don’t. Then McCoy spots something and immediately takes off running, with everyone else pelting after him. It turns out to be an injured guy (unsurprisingly; if you see McCoy suddenly sprint off somewhere it’s a safe guess that Doctor Mode has been activated) laying in some rubble. McCoy does a scan and says that the guy’s got radiation burns, internal injuries, and shock. Or, to use a precise medical term, he’s real fucked up.

As McCoy does his doctor things Spock tells Kirk that he’s picked up some more life signs. But while whatever’s out there might be alive, it’s not human survivors, or indeed any life that they know of, because these life signs are not warmblooded. And despite what McCoy says Spock isn’t actually coldblooded, or I’d accuse him of just having the scanner the wrong way round. Spock picks out the approximate location and Kirk tells O’Herlihy to go check it out.

So O’Herlihy runs forward a little bit, then stands up and yells, “Captain, I see something!” Then a red light hits him and he’s immediately disintegrated. Great job.

Before anyone has time to process this, a shell falls nearby. Everyone drops flat to the ground for cover, except for McCoy, whose first instinct was to shield the wounded guy.

[ID: Kirk, Spock, Lang and Kelowitz crouching for cover in a pile of rubble next to a stone formation; in the middle of the group McCoy is laying on top of the injured man.]

Right, it’s looking like it’s past time to get the hell out of Dodge. Kirk calls up the Enterprise and tells them to beam up the landing party, but Sulu tells him they can’t—they’re under attack by an unidentified ship and had to raise their shields, and there’s no beaming through the shields. Things are just going badly on all fronts today. Kirk tells Sulu to keep the shields up and fire all phasers. Sulu does so, but reports that the other ship has its shields up too (it’d be kind of weird if they didn’t, really) so that didn’t do much.

Kirk tells Sulu to do anything he has to do to keep the Enterprise safe; the landing party will hold out down there in the meantime. Sulu, who of course has no idea what’s going on planetside, says that if they’re under attack he could drop the shields long enough to beam them up, but Kirk won’t have it. The safety of the ship comes before anything else.

Of course, for the landing party, holding out down there is easier said than done. They’re still being shelled, and as Spock points out, the disrupters the enemy is using are massively OP compared to the Enterprise crew’s hand phasers. But that’s the situation they’re in so they’re going to have to deal with it. For the moment they’ll have to settle for getting out of the open, so Kirk and Spock lead a run over to the buildings encircling the area, while McCoy and the remaining two ‘shirts come after them carrying the injured guy. Kirk then tells the ‘shirts to fan out and lay down some fire. And keep their heads down. Sure, that’ll help.

Kirk himself is none too pleased about having to be away from his ship while she’s in trouble (that he’s also in mortal peril is just sort of an annoying side problem). He’s also irritated that they can’t even get at their attackers, which raises the question of why he sent the ‘shirts out there after them. Spock points out, though, that at the moment their attackers also can’t get to them, unless they move position to some nearby high ground. Kirk asks if Spock remembers the base layout well enough to know where the arsenal is, which fortunately Spock does, though he cautions that after an attack of this level there might not be anything left. But there’s not a whole lot of other options, so Kirk takes the risk and sets off into the open again.

He zigzags around a bit, then combat rolls away from a blast and crawls behind a thing, where he gets a call from Sulu saying that their phasers didn’t have any effect on the other ship. Kirk tells him to switch to photon torpedoes. Kirk, I know you care about your ship a lot, but I think running across a battlefield dodging shells is quite enough for any one person to focus on without also trying to micromanage a space battle at the same time.

Sulu says that they have no ID on the ship, and it’s too far away for visual contact. You mean you can’t just look out the window for it? Dang, that usually works. They fire the photon torpedoes and Kirk tries to say something else, but has to break off because the communicator’s on the fritz, and also because of the minor detail that he’s being shelled. He gets up and makes a dash for the arsenal, a little building in the middle of the colony with a convenient crater out front that Kirk does a dive and roll into because of course he does. Then he calls Sulu again and tells him to do anything he has to to protect the ship, even if it means leaving them all behind. Sulu’s obviously not happy about that, but he agrees. Incidentally, Sulu is, as you might expect, at the helm during all this. Who has the conn? Is anyone actually running this ship?

Anyway, it seems the photon torpedoes didn’t work either, which means Sulu has to reluctantly retreat, warping out of orbit while Kirk makes for the arsenal. Back under the overhang, Spock asks McCoy how the injured guy is doing. McCoy bluntly says that without better medical care he’ll be dead in half an hour. McCoy doesn’t seem real concerned about the whole ‘being shelled’ thing, which is not real surprising; McCoy generally doesn’t care about much else when he’s got a patient to look after. Oh, we’re under artillery fire? Well, you better go take care of that so I can get this dude to a biobed.

Spock notices that the attackers are moving, so he makes a run for it over to Kirk, who’s found a mortar in the arsenal. That’s convenient. Spock tells Kirk that the attackers have locked onto them and are making for the aforementioned higher ground. Then he sees that his tricorder is smoking. That seems bad.

[ID: Kirk and Spock, covered in dirt, kneeling in a crater with a mortar and box of round blue grenades. Spock is holding up a smoking tricorder and saying, “They’ve locked on to my tricorder,” with a somewhat offended expression on his face.]

He throws it away and it promptly explodes. Huh. Apparently tricorders are made by Samsung.

Kirk calls for Lang, but it’s Kelowitz who rolls into the crater a moment later. He grimly tells Kirk that they got Lang. No, not Lang! Lang, we hardly knew ye!

Kelowitz hasn’t seen the enemy himself, but he gives an estimate of where he thinks they might be. Kirk prepares to load one of the jawbreaker-looking grenades, which Kelowitz is a little dubious about using at this range. Kirk is just kind of like “eh, it’ll hurt them more than it’ll hurt us.”

The grenade goes off with a big ol’ boom, and when the smoke clears and the three of them stand up again, the shelling seems to have stopped. A moment later Sulu calls to say that the enemy ship is retreating, and that their sensors show it just used its transporters. Evidently the attackers didn’t like the look of that grenade and decided to skedaddle. Also, hang on, weren’t you leaving orbit, Sulu? What’s the range on these communicators?

At any rate it looks like they can finally drop the shields, so Kirk orders them to beam up the landing party and beam down thirty medical personnel to search the ruins for any other survivors. Thirty medical personnel? You have thirty medical personnel? Where have they all been hiding? Does McCoy know about this?

Sometime later, a captain’s log informs us that they made it back and are now following the alien ship, which is headed toward an unknown part of the galaxy, while Kirk, Spock and McCoy are talking to the injured guy in Sickbay. He says their scanners picked up a ship approaching, which didn’t surprise them because ships come through all the time to use their facilities. Given they’re on the very edge of known space one wonders why there are so many ships passing through, but anyway, this one was looking all fine and normal until it suddenly started attacking without warning. It knocked out their phaser batteries with its first salvo, leaving them helpless as it proceeded to lay waste to the colony. They called the ship begging to surrender, telling them there were women and children in the colony, but the attackers ignored them. He doesn’t have any idea why anyone would attack them, because the colony didn’t have anything anyone would want. Throughout this the actor is tossing his head back and forth a little too much; at some point it goes from looking like he’s very distressed to looking like something came loose in his neck.

Kirk asks about the messages the Enterprise got and the guy confirms that they didn’t send them. Then he starts ranting and raving about why, why, why did they do it, there has to be a reason, THERE HAS TO BE A REASON!

Later, Kirk is talking to Spock in his quarters about how this whole thing was obviously a trap to lure the Enterprise in because it’s the only protection for this part of the Federation (yes, they finally came up with a name for the Federation). Sorry, hang on—one ship is the only protection for a whole border area of the Federation? How much protection can that ship possibly offer, especially when it’s constantly scooting around the galaxy doing all manner of other things?

Spock points out that they have no actual proof that this is an invasion and that there could be other explanations, but Kirk doesn’t wanna hear it. Spock looks like he’s going to argue for a second, but then just says that they’ll have to make sure the alien ship doesn’t make it home, in that case. Kirk says that he intends to do that. “If we can keep them in the dark,” he says, “they’ll never dare move against us.” Uh, they already did move against you, though? And they could hardly have been any more in the dark at the time than they are now.

Despite Spock still looking unhappy, Kirk orders Sulu to overtake the other vessel and lock on phaser banks. After the break, we move up to the bridge, where one of the helmsmen says that they’re now out of explored space. Kirk asks Spock what he knows about this neck of the cosmos and Spock says they’ve got pretty much nuthin. Just some unsubstantiated rumors (or “space legends” which are like regular legends but in space) about strange signals and possibly some intelligent life.

Sulu says the alien ship has sped up to warp six. Kirk orders the Enterprise to speed up to warp seven. Everyone’s shocked at this. Spock points out that this is dangerous—or, as Scotty puts it, “We’ll either catch them or blow up.” But Kirk has never listened to a safety warning in his life and he’s not about to start now.

Spock comes over quietly to make a plea for maybe not blowing the aliens out of the sky, perhaps we could just chase them off? Kirk sternly tells him no, because they’re the only policemen around here, and a crime has been committed, which means that they now have to personally chase the criminals down and execute them. That’s what police are for, right?

This all feels a little bit extreme for Kirk, to be honest. That he would be furious and horrified after witnessing what happened to the colony is perfectly reasonable, of course. That he would want to see justice done, and feel a need to act quickly as the only representative of the Federation around, sure. But Kirk’s just not really the type to run forward in a bloodlust like this. I mean, he watched an established enemy of the Federation break a century-long treaty and obliterate several manned bases in what was most definitely a premeditated act of war, and he reacted more calmly and deliberately than this, with concern for the ramifications of the situation even as he was chasing down the attackers. We’ve seen him offer mercy to an alien that (apparently) had every intention of destroying the Enterprise, and ruminate extensively over how best to deal with a man he suspected of being a mass murderer. We saw him be kind to the literal embodiment of his own dark side. Here he not only charges off with every intent to destroy the alien ship without even sending a hail, he scolds Spock for suggesting anything else. It just doesn’t ring true to me. I suspect this is because the message this episode is going for is about as subtle as a brick to the head, and Kirk acting with more complex characterization would have gotten in the way of that.

The alien ship goes to warp seven, so Kirk orders them to go to warp eight, which Scotty takes as a personal insult, judging by his expression. Careful there, Kirk. If you go too fast you might overshoot them entirely. 

[ID: A gif from Spaceballs showing a ship accelerating into space, signs lighting up saying LIGHT SPEED--RIDICULOUS SPEED--LUDICROUS SPEED and then the ship overtaking another ship, leaving a plaid pattern, while one of the occupants incredulously says, “They’ve gone to plaid.” ]

Eventually they start to close in on the other ship, as they approach an unknown solar system. Apparently that’s not home base for the aliens, because they’re headed away from it. It seems that someone lives there, though, because Uhura reports that the Enterprise is being scanned from the system. There’s nothing hostile about the scans, but they are steadily increasing in intensity.

Before we can figure that one out, something even more weird happens: the alien ship starts slowing down. All the way down: from warp seven to warp six, five, four, three, two, one, sublight annnnnnd finally a complete stop.

Kirk thinks this is finally their chance and orders Sulu to power up phasers and move in for the kill. But then suddenly there’s a Shake. Well, in this case, really more of a hard lean, as, just like the alien ship, the Enterprise also screeches to a halt. Metaphorically screeches. There’s no sound in space. But you know what I mean.

[ID: The darkened bridge of the Enterprise tilting forward, with Kirk and the helmsmen leaning against the helm while Spock and Scotty hang onto the railings. Sulu is saying, “Warp six...warp five...” ]

Once everyone detangles themselves from the railings, the reports start to come in: there’s no apparent damage and the life support is still working fine, but the phaser guys report that they suddenly have no power, and Scotty says the engines are dead cold. Something is holding them in place, something that seems to be coming from that solar system over there. Kirk protests that this is impossible, but Spock points out that it obviously isn’t because, uh, it’s happening.

Then the lights start pulsing and the viewscreen turns to a bunch of swirly colors.

[ID: Kirk standing behind the helmsman on the bridge, looking at the viewscreen, which is showing a swirl of green, red, blue and yellow lights.]

The colors say that they are the Metrons, and the Enterprise is one of two ships that have come into their space on a mission of violence, which is not permissible. Well it might have been nice if you’d given any kind of indication of that before we got here. Why are all these super-advanced alien civilizations so bad at marking their territory boundaries? I know that’s hard in space but with all the technology these guys usually have you’d think they could make an effort.

The Metrons then go on to say that they’ve scanned the ship and learned that these violent tendencies are inherent to the occupants. I guess they read the ‘Humans: We’re Super Violent’ file on the ship computers, right next to the ‘Humans: We Hate Captivity’ one that the Talosians read. Really, you have to wonder why they keep all this philosophical information on the ship. Anyway, the Metrons say they’re going to resolve this conflict in the way most suited to the ‘limited mentalities’ of those involved. They tell Kirk that he and the captain of the other ship, which belongs to a race called the Gorn, are going to be taken to a specially prepared planet to settle their dispute there. They’ll even be given a recording-chronicling device in the hopes that maybe a record of this will dissuade others from entering this system. Hey, you know what I bet would really help dissuade others from entering your system? Giving any indication that it’s your system and you don’t want people in it before they randomly stumble across it.

Kirk asks the Metrons what makes them think they can interfere, and they say, “It is you who are interfering. We are simply putting a stop to it.” Excuse me? Two groups engaged in a conflict between the two of them, that didn’t involve you at all, came close to you and you immediately took control of the situation and decided to force them to resolve it in a way that you thought was best. What, exactly, was the Enterprise ‘interfering’ with here, and where do you get off saying you aren’t? I’m not saying this conflict is a good thing, but that doesn’t change the fact that the Metrons are very much interfering in it, particularly given that they obviously have the power to just make any ships coming near their territory just stop and turn around if that was all they wanted.

They go on to say that this planet has sufficient resources for either combatant to make lethal weapons to kill the other. Whoever wins can go on their way unharmed; whoever loses will be destroyed along with their ship “in the interests of peace.” What...why do you think that will preserve peace?? And what happened to acts of violence not being permissible? Killing an entire ship full of people is sure an act of violence if I ever heard of one. For that matter, so is forcing two people to fight to the death. I guess violence is only bad if the lesser people do it.

The Metrons say there will be no argument, and just like that, Kirk disappears from the bridge. Man, you just can’t go anywhere in this galaxy without Superior Aliens vanishing you right off your ship.

Kirk finds himself suddenly in the middle of a rocky desert, facing down the captain of the Gorn ship. Turns out the Gorn look like lizard people with disco-ball eyes.

[ID: An over the shoulder shot of Kirk in a desert facing a muscled green lizard-like alien wearing only fingerless leather gloves and a red and gold patterned tunic sort of thing.]

After the break, Kirk starts telling us about how he’s been “placed on the surface of an asteroid” by the Metrons. Not as a captain’s log or anything, he’s just narrating. Out of force of habit, I guess. Also, evidently he was zoning out during the monologue, because the Metrons said they were putting him on a planet, not an asteroid.

If said planet/asteroid seems familiar, it’s probably because you’ve seen it before: this was shot at the Vasquez Rocks, a national park in California which has been a shooting location for so many films, TV shows, and music videos, there’s an entire Wikipedia page dedicated just to listing them. We saw the Vasquez Rocks previously in Shore Leave, and we’ll see them two more times in TOS; they also showed up once in Next Generation, twice in Voyager, once in Enterprise, and in Star Trek IV, Star Trek (2009), and Star Trek Into Darkness. Whew! The place is so associated with Star Trek in particular that the most prominent and recognizable rock formation has become unofficially known as Kirk’s Rock.

Anyway, enough about rocks. Back to the action (such as it is). Kirk says that he’s going to have to fight to remember that the Gorn is an advanced and formidable opponent, because “like most humans I seem to have an instinctive revulsion to reptiles.” Most humans? Some humans do, sure, but if the amount of snake pictures I see on tumblr is anything to go by, most is a reach. Although the Gorn does make a noise uncomfortably similar to a Minecraft spider, which I think you would get a lot more people to admit to having a revulsion to. Including me.

The Gorn (who is never given a name, so let’s call them Gornzilla) breaks off a hefty branch from a nearby tree and starts advancing on Kirk. Kirk breaks off a much smaller tree branch and looks at it for a moment before realizing that’s not gonna do and throwing it aside. Fortunately he’s able to put the tree between him and Gornzilla in time for their branch to come down on the tree instead of him, breaking it in the process.

Well, now that they’ve both lost their sticks, Kirk and Gornzilla will have to try and kill each other like civilized people: barehanded. Of course, TOS fight scenes are bad enough when none of the combatants are wearing stiff, awkward, mobility and vision-restricting costumes, so you can just about imagine how bad this one is. Here’s a sample:

[ID: A gif showing Kirk stiffly and awkwardly slamming both fists into the Gorn while the Gorn flails around trying to hit him.]

Kirk eventually breaks away from the terrible grappling and runs up the hill a little, where he hefts up a rock and, with a great effort, throws it at Gornzilla. It hits Gornzilla square in the chest...and bounces off, without any noticeable effect at all. Gornzilla then picks up a much bigger rock and throws it at Kirk. That one misses—this story would have been a lot shorter and a lot less PG-rated if it hadn’t. At that point Kirk decides that discretion is the better part of valor and takes off into the hills.

Back up on the Enterprise, Spock is conferring with Scotty, suggesting various things they could try to get the ship moving. But, of course, Scotty’s already tried all of those, and probably about two dozen other things as well, none of which have worked. And Uhura still doesn’t have any information about the Metrons or what force is holding them in place. Spock looks tired.

Down on the planet or asteroid or whatever we’re calling it, Kirk has found a place to hunker down for a moment and talk into the recording device that the Metrons gave him. After asking anyone who finds the device to return it to Starfleet—sure, that seems likely to happen—he relates how he’s locked in combat with the Gorn. The Gorn is much stronger than him, Kirk notes, but he has the advantage when it comes to agility—and, he hopes, cleverness. What Kirk doesn’t realize is that Gornzilla can hear him on their device, and they don’t look too impressed with his opinion of his own cleverness.

 [ID: The Gorn poking their head up from a rock, communicator device in one hand, while Kirk says, “He’s not agile.”]

uh, rude

Kirk seems to assume Gornzilla is male, which seems a bit silly to me; even putting aside how complicated gender is for humans, and even assuming this unknown alien race has anything like a gender division that would make sense to us—the Gorn are reptiles. How well could you tell if a lizard was male or female by looking at it from a distance? (Don’t answer that if you’re a herpetologist.)

Regardless of Gornzilla’s gender, Kirk knows that he’s got to find one of those weapons the Metrons were talking about, because “barehanded...against the Gorn...I have no chance.” Well, it might help if you didn’t stop to monologue dramatically every five minutes. Just a bit of friendly advice there.

Meanwhile, McCoy comes up to the bridge to ask what in the heck is going on this time, and what Spock plans to do about it. Spock tells him he’s going to do nothing, because that’s all he can do about it. And, indeed, I can tell you now that nobody on the ship is going to accomplish anything for the rest of the story. They’re just there to occasionally react to break up the action.

Kirk continues running around looking for weapons, but aside from a lot of rocks all he finds is some tall bamboo-looking plants. Gornzilla, on the other hand, is being more proactive: they’ve found some vines and are making some kind of net out of them.

Next, Kirk stumbles across some big ol’ diamonds, just kind of spilling out of a crack in the ground as, y’know, diamonds do.

[ID: Kirk leaning against a rock formation and looking at a vein of diamonds spilling onto the ground.]

“man, I could make a rad pickaxe out of these”

Kirk stops to glumly narrate into his recorder about how he’s found “an incredible fortune in stones...yet I would trade them all for a hand phaser.” An incredible fortune in stones? In the 23rd century? Diamonds are super common in space (not to mention possible to artificially create with technology we have now), so one would think the price would have dropped a bit by then. Even De Beers could (hopefully) only do so much to enforce scarcity once we start finding planets full of the things.

Having loudly announced the uselessness of diamonds to the world, Kirk heads up the hill, where he sees Gornzilla chipping out a stone knife. I gotta say, Kirk’s whole superior cleverness thing isn’t looking too great right now, considering all he’s done is run around and complain about how he can’t find any weapons, while at least Gornzilla is doing something.

But perhaps Kirk’s chance is about to come, because just then he spots something: a large rock, conveniently positioned near the edge of an incline. Which Gornzilla is almost directly underneath.

Well, it doesn’t take too much cleverness to figure that one out. Kirk climbs up the incline and starts pushing.

[ID: Kirk pushing a boulder up the side of a sharply angled incline.]

IT’S OVER GORN, I HAVE THE HIGH GROUND

With a lot of effort, Kirk manages to push the boulder off the cliff, and with quite amazing precision it pinballs directly into Gornzilla, knocking them down and pinning them under it. Triumphant, Kirk runs down the mountain to get a closer look. This turns out to be a bad idea, because Gornzilla is not nearly as dead as they look. They manage to push the rock off of them and get up, apparently not significantly set back by any of this. The tables quickly get turned as they advance on Kirk, who has to turn and run once again.

Unfortunately, this time Kirk fails his spot check, and runs straight into a tripwire (well, a tripvine, more accurately) that dumps a whole bunch of rocks on him, leaving him trapped and struggling while Gornzilla advances, knife at the ready. That would be the end for Kirk if Gornzilla didn’t make one fatal mistake: moving away the biggest boulder trapping Kirk to get a better shot at him, which allows Kirk to finally squirm free of the trap and escape, though not without an injured leg.

On the ship, Spock tries to call the Metrons, begging them for a conference. They don’t respond. Jerks.

Rather the worse for wear now, Kirk limps up to a rock with a lot of thick yellow dust on it and stops to monologue about it. Kirk. Buddy. Please. Focus, here. He identifies the dust as sulfur, which is not of much interest to him because he’s still trying to find the weapon that the Metrons mentioned. Considering your opponent just came real dang close to killing you with nothing but some vines and rocks, it might be time to consider that the Metrons meant for the combatants to use actual parts of the environment to make weapons, instead of just wandering around the hills looking for a treasure chest full of guns.

Still, Kirk thinks there is something notable about sulfur. “Something...very old, if only I could remember...” Well, if you mix it with brimstone, you get Hell, or so I’ve heard. Or at least a very bad smell.

On the bridge, McCoy is leaning on the captain’s chair despite Spock’s best efforts to sit in it and muttering about how it’s “inconceivable” that they’re immobilized like this, because this episode didn’t know what else to do with McCoy. Which is a bit odd I think, because while there are some episodes where it would be understandable to struggle to find a role for a given character, this is not one of them. This is an episode with a.) a big moral dilemma, and b.) clear tension about and between Kirk, his choices, the other characters, and the ultimate message of the episode. That is McCoy’s jam. McCoy has both strong and passionate views about the preservation of life, and absolutely no compunctions about yelling at his best friend and ranking officer if he thinks he needs to. He was there to tell Kirk not to act in vengeance against Kodos; he was there to counsel Kirk against doing something that could start a war with the Romulans; that he didn’t storm up to the bridge and chew Kirk’s ear off for going in guns blazing against the Gorn is just not believable to me. But that would have gotten in the way of the whole “humans bad and violent” plot, and taken up valuable fight scene time, so McCoy just has to lurk on the bridge looking grumpy for the rest of the episode.

Suddenly, the screen lights up again as the Metrons return. Or the Metron? To be honest I don’t really know if “we are the Metrons” means that the Metrons are a hivemind kind of thing, or if there just happens to be one of them speaking for the whole group.

Anyway, the Metron or Metrons say that Kirk is losing the battle, so his crew should make whatever memorial arrangements they have in their culture now because they don’t have much time left. McCoy yells at them to stop all this nonsense “in the name of civilization” but the Metron(s) reply that the humans’ violent intent and actions demonstrate that they are not civilized. Attacking someone who attacked you, very uncivilized. Now, grabbing a couple of people who were doing something you don’t approve of, making them fight to the death, and then killing the four hundred or so people associated with whoever lost—that’s civilized. After all the Metrons are Super Advanced and they said so, so it must be true.

But, the Metron(s) say, they are not without compassion and recognize that it is possible the crew may have feelings towards their captain (possible? if there were any more feelings towards Kirk on this ship it would explode), so they’re going to start streaming the events on the planet to the viewscreen so the crew can watch their captain die. That...sure is compassionate.

The viewscreen then changes to show them Kirk kneeling in the dirt next to a rock with a bunch of white stuff on it, while Gornzilla approaches him ominously. McCoy bemoans that they have no way of contacting Kirk, which Spock agrees with, because unless he’s mistaken the white stuff on the rocks is potassium nitrate. No, now, hold on, I’m calling bullshit on that one, Spock. Unless your superior Vulcan vision comes with a built-in spectrograph, how in the hell can you tell that that’s potassium nitrate just by looking at it? It’s just white powder. A lot of stuff looks like white powder. That could be cocaine for all you know.

“So?” McCoy asks. “Perhaps nothing, doctor,” Spock says, “perhaps everything.” Thanks, that’s helpful.

Meanwhile Kirk, being the dignified and sensible captain that he is, is licking the white stuff off his hand. Potassium nitrate, also known as saltpeter, isn’t poisonous—in fact it’s commonly added to food—but I still don’t recommend licking unidentified white powders to find out what they are. There’s a whole lot of ways that can go extremely wrong. Also I don’t know why Kirk would know what saltpeter tastes like, but apparently he does, because he grins triumphantly and sets out at a limp-run across the desert.

As he’s on his way, though, Kirk hears a deep, slithery kind of voice (provided by our familiar friend Ted Cassidy in his last TOS role) saying, “Earthling captain...” “Who is this, the Metron?” Kirk replies. Gee, I don’t know, Kirk, who could that voice that sounds exactly like you’d expect a lizard person to sound like be? Probably the person he’s already heard talking, who didn’t sound exactly like that, right?

No, of course not. It’s Gornzilla, and they inform Kirk that they’ve heard everything he said into his device. WHOOPS.

Gornzilla tells Kirk that they weary of the chase, and if he waits for them they’ll be merciful and quick. “Like you were at Cestus 3?” Kirk asks. Gornzilla retorts that the Federation was invading and establishing an outpost in the Gorns’ space, and that all they were doing was destroying invaders. Hearing this from the ship, McCoy is aghast, and wonders out loud if it could be true that Cestus 3 was in Gorn space. Spock admits that it could be since they know very little about that section of the galaxy. “Then we could be in the wrong,” McCoy says.

Okay, hold the phone here. Yes, it’s entirely possible that the Federation established a colony in what the Gorn considered to be their territory. But that doesn’t change the fact that the Gorns’ first response was to slaughter the entire colony without warning. They not only made no effort to communicate with the Federation first, they completely ignored said colony surrendering and begging for their lives. Then they set up a trap designed to draw in what is apparently (illogically, but still) the only protection for that entire section of space, with intent to destroy said vessel and its crew. So we can’t just say the Gorn were ignorant of what the Federation is and didn’t understand the surrender—they obviously know enough about humans to fake a convincing message to them! And it’s not like the Federation knew it was their territory and decided to move in anyway. They had no idea there was any sapient life in that area, let alone sapient life that saw the whole place as theirs. I get that it’s not exactly easy to establish clear borders in space, but by that same token you have to have some awareness that other people are not necessarily going to be aware of what is and isn’t your territory, because they have no way of knowing that! So no, I don’t think that the Gorn are in the right. If you had a big stretch of property and you didn’t mark the boundaries of it in any way, then yes, you could claim that someone wandering onto it would be trespassing, but that wouldn’t make you in the right for immediately shooting them in the head without even talking to them. And then luring the local police over so you could shoot them too before they could do anything about it.

Kirk, at least, doesn’t appear to have ethical quandaries foremost on his mind at the moment. Instead he’s returned to the bamboo-like plants, where he finds a particularly big hollow chunk of one. He then returns to the deposits of sulfur and nitrate, dropping a fistful of each into the bamboo tube, along with some of the diamonds. All he needs now, Spock tells us, is some coal, because he’s making gunpowder. Which is usually made with charcoal, not coal, but that’s probably well down the list of problems with this plan.

Fortunately for Kirk, coal is one of the many minerals easily found laying around on the surface of this planet, so he adds some of that to his collection. This is starting to feel more and more like a quest in a video game. I half expect Kirk to whip out a crafting table to combine all his ingredients on. But no, he just dumps it all out on a rock and mixes up the various powders. How Kirk knows the correct proportions for gunpowder is a mystery to me; how many people do you think could give the correct proportions for gunpowder now, when we actually still use the stuff? Aside from chemists, or gunsmiths, or history enthusiasts or—look, I stand by my point.

Gunpowder, or something adjacent to gunpowder, assembled, Kirk then tears a strip off his pants (from the end of his pants. settle down there) and, as Gornzilla approaches, starts hitting the Metron device onto the rock, trying to catch a spark onto the fabric. He gets one just in time, lights his makeshift cannon, and Gornzilla gets an explosion of diamond chunks in the chest.

[ID: Kirk kneeling next to his makeshift bamboo cannon, which has just emitted a big cloud of smoke.]

And yes, the Mythbusters tested this one. Shockingly, they concluded that it would not work, firstly because it’s just not possible to hand-mix gunpowder in that way and get anything strong enough  to actually explode; and secondly, if you did put working gunpowder in a hunk of bamboo and light it,  the whole thing would just blow up in your face. Even after significantly reinforcing the bamboo, they couldn’t get a result that wouldn’t have killed Kirk along with Gornzilla. Don’t try this at home, is what I’m saying. For a lot of reasons, really.

With his opponent down, Kirk picks up Gornzilla’s stone knife and moves in for the coup de grace. But then he hesitates and says—no. He won’t do it. The Metrons, he yells up to the sky, will have to get their entertainment somewhere else.

At this, Gornzilla suddenly disappears, and this punk shows up.

[ID: A human-looking alien with short blonde hair, wearing a very sparkly white dress/toga and lacing around their ankles, standing in front of some rocks.]

pictured: the voice of the Metrons, or the Metronatron

The Metron says that by sparing Gornzilla, Kirk demonstrated the ‘advanced trait’ of mercy, which the Metrons didn’t realize humans were capable of. Really? All that scanning of the ship records didn’t give you any hint that humans were capable of mercy? You guys sure didn’t look very hard before deciding to condemn everyone on the ship, huh?

So the Metrons aren’t going to destroy Kirk and the Enterprise after all, because it wouldn’t be...civilized, the Metron says with a smirk. Fuck off.

Then they say that they sent Gornzilla back to their ship and offer to destroy them for Kirk, but he says no, that won’t be necessary, because they’re probably going to die anyway from the diamond chunks in their internal organs maybe the humans and Gorn can talk and reach an agreement. Which the Gorn have shown absolutely no interest in doing, but cool.

“There is hope for you,” the Metron says. “Perhaps, in several thousand years, your people and mine shall meet to reach an agreement.” Yeah, maybe several thousand years from now your people will have finally stopped being such insufferable dicks.

With that, Kirk is magicked back to the Enterprise, and I guess they healed him up for good measure because he suddenly looks a lot less beat up. He lets everyone cheer and crowd around him in relief for a minute before telling them to get back to their posts so they can get outta here. But when Sulu prepares to do so, he exclaims that they’ve somehow been transported “clear across the galaxy—five hundred parsecs from where we are, I mean, were.” The galaxy is actually about thirty-four thousand parsecs across, but—you know what, never mind. Let’s just go.

Kirk tells him not to worry about it, just head back to Cestus 3. As Sulu does so, Spock comes over and tells Kirk that they lost the picture after Kirk fired the cannon off, so he’s rather curious about what happened after that. Instead of answering that question Kirk says, “We’re a rather promising species, Mr. Spock, did you know that?” “I’ve frequently had my doubts.” Thanks Spock.

“Never mind, Mr. Spock,” Kirk says, “it doesn’t make much sense to me either.” Spock is like “okay but...could you give me a straight answer” and Kirk is like “NOPE” and then the episode ends.

Arena is often regarded as a classic Star Trek episode, and hey, I’m not saying that Kirk shooting a lizard-person with a handmade bamboo gun isn’t absolutely classic Star Trek in every way, or that the extended struggle between Kirk and an inscrutable alien among a rocky and treacherous landscape isn’t enjoyable (albeit sometimes for other reasons than were intended). But, as you may have gotten just a little hint of by now, the Metrons piss me off.

For one thing, their blatant hypocrisy is staggering. Even the thought of committing violence is apparently a sign of being uncivilized—and, in their books, ‘uncivilized’ seems to mean ‘not worthy of living’--but for them to go all Hunger Games on the alleged criminals is okay for some reason?

Let me put it this way: I have two cats. These cats do not get along. One of them is a huge bully who will immediately try to pick a fight with the other one the moment he sees her. Now, I’m not gonna go calling myself superior to anything, but I can say with some confidence that I am smarter and more powerful than my cats. I don’t think the bully cat has any kind of righteous cause against the other cat, and I don’t approve of him fighting with her. Cat fights are, one might say, not permissible in my house, or at least strongly discouraged. But I know enough about cats to be quite sure that they are never going to sit down and have diplomatic talks and come to a peaceful agreement about their dispute, whatever the hell it is. In general, I don’t think they’re ever going to resolve this conflict in any way that I would like them to.

So was my response to this to go “well, if violence is all you understand, violence is what you’ll get” and lock them in a room until one of them killed the other one? OF COURSE NOT. If I did something like that you’d think I was incredibly cruel, and you would be absolutely right. Instead, since I recognize they aren’t ever going to like each other, I keep them separated so they don’t fight. Because I am smarter and more powerful than my cats, I accept that I have the responsibility to use that power to help them and take care of them. That may mean sometimes doing things they don’t like or not letting them do things they would like, but only because I think it’s in their best interests. And those are cats. Not sapient beings with spacefaring civilizations!

Throughout the episode we’re just supposed to accept that the Metrons are Superior and Very Advanced, even though the only proof we have of that is that the Metrons themselves said so. Yes, they’re obviously more powerful than humans, but that doesn’t make them better. It doesn’t give them the right to do whatever they want to anyone else they encounter.

I know the central theme behind TOS was the idea that humanity could and would get better. And I get that, I really do. I look at the news every day and I desperately want us to get better. I want to imagine that future. And I like it when Trek says, look, we can get better in the future, by being less bigoted, by looking after each other, by being open-minded and curious and accepting and caring. I don’t like it when Trek portrays morality as some kind of linear system where us puny humans are a lowly level one or whatever, but some day maybe we can work our way up to level ten like the Very Smart and Superior and Advanced aliens that occasionally show up to look down on us. Because, not to get all allegorical, but our history and our present is full of groups who declared that they were Very Smart and Superior and More Advanced than other groups, and that therefore it was okay for them to do whatever they wanted. It’s never turned out well for the other groups.

Which is why I really don’t wanna call the Metrons godlike beings, but they do fit into that general category of TOS entities, so, ugh, fine.

TREK TROPE TALLY: We’ve got one redshirt death and one blueshirt death with O’Herlihy and Lang, who thought they were gonna get a nice dinner, the poor bastards. And we’ve got--sigh--another case of Godlike Beings. But no shirt rips, which is surprising given everything Kirk got up to in this episode. Next time we’ll be hittin’ the time vortex with Tomorrow Is Yesterday.

[thanksfornothinguselessreptile]

A Shifting World Chapter 4: Goodbyes and Departures

First Chapter

<– Previous

Work Summary: Things have been going great since Hiccup and Toothless have defeated the Red Death. He has his father’s approval, a group of friends his own age, and is leading the integration of dragons and the Vikings of Berk. When neighboring tribes call together a meeting to discuss rumors of Vikings riding dragons, however, Stoick decides to keep their alliance with dragons under wraps. Hiccup must decide whether he should listen to his father or seek to teach the other Vikings of the archipelago the truths about dragons.

AO3

Rating: T

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid, Stoick, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout

Pairings: Minor Hiccup x Astrid

Chapter Summary: Hiccup makes a promise to his best friend. Meanwhile, the twins are the twins and Mildew is Mildew.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions of death and murder, food mention

“You guys are all so lucky,” Tuffnut said as he shook his head at the nearest ship. “You all get to go to the Thing and we don’t.”

“I’d kill for the opportunity to go.” The scariest thing about that statement, Hiccup decided, was that Ruffnut sounded like she genuinely meant it. “The Thing is the prime pranking opportunity, and none of you are going to take advantage of it!”

“We’ll keep that in mind, I promise,” Hiccup said. He found himself regretting that the twins wouldn’t be coming along, even if it cut down the risk of other tribes declaring war on Berk due to missing beards and painted helmets.

Still, with a whole village to terrorize and no one else in their friend group around to entertain them or hold them back, Hiccup was sure that the missed opportunity would soon be a long distant regret.

Luckily enough for Hiccup, if not for Berk, it turned out that many of his friends were coming along, too. Astrid’s mother, Phlegma, was among the Berk Council, as was Spitelout, Snotlout’s father; both had decided their children ought to come along and get a better understanding of the other tribes. Fishlegs, while he had a mother aboard their ship as a sailor, had been chosen to come because Stoick believed he could have potential as a future ambassador of Berk.

Beyond them, all of the Berk Council were going as well. Well, all except for one, who was heading this way with a frown.

Hiccup was suddenly very aware that the twins had seemed to have vanished into thin air. They must’ve pranked Gobber somewhat recently, then.

“Ah, Toothless, there you are!” Gobber said as he wagged the wooden hand cutout attached to his prosthetic arm attachment as he prepared a lecture. “Remember that you aren’t going on this trip, you sneaky reptile.”

Toothless grumbled in irritation and glanced over at Hiccup as if asking him to reverse the decision.

“Sorry, bud,” he said instead, and gave Toothless an apologetic smile. “You know that Dad would kill me if I smuggled you aboard.” And anyways, even if he did go through with showing the other tribes that dragons weren’t inherently violent and were actually amazing, intelligent beings who were willing to live in peace if humans were, he wanted Toothless here, safe, if things went wrong. Again.

Toothless snorted and shook his head, his pupils narrowing slightly.

“Don’t worry, bud, it won’t be for forever.” If Gobber wasn’t there, Hiccup would have told him he’d try and make it so he could go to the next one, too. However, Gobber was still there, listening. He wouldn’t exactly be the sort that would keep quiet if Hiccup started making plans to go against his father’s and chief’s wishes behind his back.

“Yes,” Toothless said with a disgruntled huff.  

Hiccup could understand why. He wasn’t too happy about having to leave his best friend either.

Anything else he had to say, however, was swallowed up by a loud yell several feet away.

“I’m telling you, Stoick, this must be a sign from the gods to give up this unholy alliance with the beasts.” Hiccup had heard that voice enough times since after the Battle of the Red Death that he frowned and prepared to sigh with exasperation even before properly recognizing its owner.

Just as there were dragons too affected by the years of conflict to want to move onto Berk, there were Vikings who resisted the peace with the dragons with their heels dug into the ground. But where dragons were happy enough to avoid Berk, Mildew had decided to make his “opinion” everyone’s problem.

And especially Hiccup’s and Stoick’s.

“If the other tribes catch wind of us ‘befriending’ these monsters–” Mildew swung his staff straight toward a nearby Monstrous Nightmare who’d just dropped off a pallet of supply crates tied into groups with fishnet, ignoring their filthy look “–then we might as well kiss our lives goodbye!”

Stoick, half turned toward Mildew and half toward the freshly delivered stack of supplies, rubbed at his head in a way that told Hiccup that he was sensing an oncoming headache. “You’ve already brought this up. For sixteen Gripe Days in a row.”

“And you wouldn’t listen!” Hiccup winced as the vibrations of the resulting slam of the staff end into the wooden dock made their way up his prosthesis. “But now that the other tribes have come knocking, maybe you’ll finally care!”

Stoick cast Mildew a glare so sharp Hiccup almost expected to result in Mildew bursting into flames without a dragon’s intervention. Unfortunately for all of Berk, it didn’t. “Enough, Mildew. I am sticking to the answer I’ve given you every time before. We are not driving the dragons away.”

Mildew’s voice dropped just a fraction, and turned even more bitter and accusing. “Is it something you’re willing to bet the whole village’s lives on?”

“I assure you,” Stoick said, his voice unyielding, “I have the village’s best interests on my mind. And, like it or not, that includes yours.”

“Besides,” Gobber said, walking from beside Hiccup up to Mildew, “is right before Stoick’s about to leave to ensure we continue living in peace really the time to bring this up? Especially since he heard it before?”

Mildew snorted, sounding for all the world like a particularly stubborn sheep not unlike the one that often followed him around.

“I thought so. Now I suggest you go back and tend to your cabbages, unless you want to help load up the ship.” Gobber used his hand prosthesis to gesture at the supplies.

With one last scowl and “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you,” Mildew stormed off the docks, staff tapping each wooden board along the way.

“Thanks, Gobber,” Stoick said, sounding more relieved than he’d been since the announcement of the Thing.

Gobber shrugged. “Eh, I’ll just add it to list of stuff you’ll owe me for while you’re gone.” He shuddered overdramatically. “Including the Gripe Days you’ll be missing. Not looking forward to those, I’m telling you!”

Stoick laughed and shook his head. “It makes dealing with the other chiefs seem like a picnic.”

Hiccup and Toothless walked toward them. “Can’t you do something about his attitude problem?”

Stoick frowned and sighed. “He gets under my skin as much as yours, son, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

“What does he have against them, anyways?” He leaned over to pat Toothless’s side, to calm himself and his dragon. “They hardly attacked his farm.” Cabbage, to no one’s surprise, was hardly a dragon’s preferred delicacy. In fact, they seemed to avoid them more often than most other crops.

Gobber and Stoick shared a solemn look.

“You see, years ago he set his farm up there,” Gobber said, sounding like he was getting into a long story that had no happy ending. “No one particularly minded, given he was always that… well, Mildewy, for the lack of a better word.” He shrugged. “And he married a woman who was just as grumpy as he was, and they had kids who took after the both of them.”

If Gobber and Stoick hadn’t looked so serious, Hiccup would’ve shuddered at the thought of a family of Mildews.

“They all seemed happy, though, and they kept mostly to themselves, so everything was fine.” Stoick shook his head. “And then, one day, his wife and children were picking up supplies in town when a dragon raid hit.”

“It was the worst in decades.” Gobber bit his lip. “Our best could hardly keep up defending the town from the dragons.” He sighed and shook his head. “By the time dawn came and they retreated, so many had died, even those who hadn’t fought.”

“Including Mildew’s family.” Hiccup never thought he’d feel anything regarding sympathy for the man, but then again he’d always summed his irritability up to stubbornness beyond the usual Viking levels.

“And that wasn’t the end of it.” Stoick’s tone caused Hiccup to brace himself. “Mildew somehow got it into his head that we let them die intentionally because no one liked them.”

“Well, no one did like them,” Gobber jumped in with a conciliatory tone. “But no one hated them that much,” he added when Stoick glared at him.

“Everyone kind of understood that it was mostly the grief talking, and things kind of died down after a while.” Stoick stroked his beard. “And eventually he ended up taking another wife.”

“And that’s when a dragon came to his farm and burnt it to a crisp.” Gobber shook his head. “Mildew escaped. Not his wife.”

“And after he got over that, he married another woman. She was from the Northlander Tribe, I believe.” He glanced at Gobber as if to confirm.

Gobber nodded. “Aye. And I bet you can get what happened to her.”

Hiccup’s stomach clenched. “I’m guessing not a peaceful death by old age.”

“After that, he became obsessed with killing dragons.” Stoick stroked his beard, lost in thought.

“Not himself, of course.” Gobber shrugged a single shoulder. “Let’s just say he chose to keep a farm far from the raids for a reason. But he bought dragon parts off those who did kill them. Bones, scales, heads, the lot.”

Toothless made a nervous sound, and Hiccup reached over to scratch him under the ears in an attempt at reassurance. “Don’t worry, bud. No one’s getting your head.”

“He was always advocating for crueler ways of killing them off entirely, not just driving them off our land for good.” Stoick frowned. “In any case, any intention he had of making his peace with them died with his wives and children.”

“But now we can make sure that no one else has to go through that.” Hiccup knew that losing family to dragons hurt; he’d lost his own mother to a dragon when he was a baby, and that had definitely stung after finding out that it was the Red Death’s fault. Still, he couldn’t imagine preferring being at war with dragons to the peace they had now over it.

“I know, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.” Stoick placed a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder, being careful not to knock him over. “However, he’s been bitter since the day he was born, and circumstances only made him worse. When you’re chief, you’ll have to deal with worse than the likes of him.”

Hiccup resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Encouraging pep talk, Dad.”

Stoick shook his head and laughed, and the somber tone the conversation had taken seemed to disperse like that. “Next time, I’ll let it surprise you.” He glanced around the docks and the ship, scanning everything. “Well, it looks to me like we’re just about ready to set out here. You get on the ship and I’ll get the loose ends tied up.” With that, he walked off.

Hiccup turned back to Toothless. “Well, I guess it’s time to say goodbye, bud.”

Toothless warbled in a very unenthusiastic tone.

“I promise I’ll be back, with a whole new bunch of stories to tell you.” A gathering of Viking chiefs was certainly never boring, as Stoick had often been inclined to share. “I’m sure you will too, since the twins are staying behind.”

At that, Toothless snorted and rolled his eyes.

Hiccup couldn’t help but smile at that. “You never know, you might have too much fun watching them get in trouble to even notice I’m gone.”

Toothless snorted and shook his head. He didn’t sound particularly convinced.

“It’s just for a few weeks, I promise.” Hiccup held out an open hand. Toothless stared at it and hesitated, then leaned his head over until his nose met Hiccup’s palm.  “Take care while I’m gone.” He let himself give his best friend a crooked, mischievous smile and wagged a finger at him in warning. “And no helping Ruff and Tuff with their pranks, alright?”

Toothless seemed to raise the draconic equivalent of an eyebrow, but nodded. “Yes.”

With that, Hiccup forced himself up the gangplank and looked for a place to sit. It was going to be a long journey.

So this is probably the last chapter I’m posting to Tumblr before the Log Off Protest. While the next chapter will likely be published on AO3 around the same time next week, I won’t crosspost it to Tumblr until the protest is over and I log back in. After that, crossposting should continue as usual. Thank you!

Next –>

[maternalcube]

i did an art summary so now im doing a fic summary. i was tagged by @jamthedingus also!! ive never done one of these before!! lets go!!!

Rest (13106)

Keith & Lance's Island Adventure (20631)

Atlantis (10014 words)

The Way to a Man’s Heart (6858 words)

nobody's business (2096 words)

leave, and take (557 words)

dead girl walking (1661 words)

the course of fate (1039 words)

who ya gonna call (465 words)

come here often? (806 words)

til kingdom come (1950 words)

stars in the sky (pt 2) (5404 words)

a song of falling (630 words)

Eyes to the Sky (3683 words)

Feet on the Ground (4050 words)

Divergence (6669 words)

homecoming (1426 words)

Window of Opportunity (11144 words)

along that wilderness of glass (3801 words)

string theory (2327 words)

Katt Week (1062 words)

The Pining-Plant (3860 words)

at the end of many worlds (21684 words)

you're my home (19646 words)

Believe Me (3177 words)

Starchild (3568 words)

Summer Heat (2285 words)

third time's the charm (5349 words)

Blackbird (59546 words)

The Sixth Planet (9444 words)

all the infinite realities (1197 words)

Total Fics: 31! (plus one i posted anonymously lmao) Total Words: 229999! (except parts of string theory and the sixth planet were actually posted last year... but still, what a number)

more under the cut!

Ship/character breakdown: i didnt filter out my prompt collection or abandoned wips here so /shrug Ship breakdown:

klance - 6 sheith - 5 shance - 5 katt - 4 heith - 3 pallura - 2 and one each of plance, kallura, allurance, shatt, shkatt, kidge, kidgance, and shunk. and keiths parents lol. let it never be said i am not a multishipper.

and i know gen isnt a ship but it tied with klance at 6 (plus whatevers in the prompt collection) which was a surprise

Character breakdown: man if theres a way to get ao3 to show me ALL the stats, i dont know it. but.

keith - 25 (shocker) shiro - 23 lance - 21 pidge - 17 hunk - 16 allura - 12 matt - 12 and then coran and sam are at 4, and zarkon ats 3 and presumably many others are at 3 or less

Characters that had the main focus: well ~9 were from keiths pov, and ~5 each from shiro and lances povs. i think i also had ~5 from multiple points of view. its safe to say that keith has my heart tho lol

Specifics:

Best/worst title? Best title: i still like “at the end of many worlds.” i weirdly still like “Blackbird” too even if it has nothing to do with anything... Worst title: “Rest.” :/ also like all of the abandoned wips bc i didnt care. and “Keith & Lance's Island Adventure.″ some of my zine fic titles were also... bad. im bad at titles.

Best/worst first line?

Best: Keith & Lance's Island Adventure. ok the title is bad but this line? this really sets the tone for whole fic. you know what youre getting yourself into here.

When Pidge invited Keith to a fully-funded graduation party aboard the Holt family boat (“the smaller one, anyway,” she’d said), this is not exactly what he'd pictured: three of them standing on a wobbly dock, packed bags at their feet, sky cloudy and gray, while the Holt siblings stand on a little ledge off the back of the boat and deny entry.

Worst: ive got two for this lol

at the end of many worlds: even i have to read this a couple times to figure out what i was trying to say. at least you know youre in for pain...

Keith’s mother shows up to interrupt movie night often enough that, this time, Keith almost doesn’t realize anything’s wrong. Almost, because she’s silhouetted by the movie, but she’s clutching her arm and panting for breath, and in the thin edge of light around her he sees a wet and vibrant red.

Divergence: because all your friends being dead is EXACTLY like losing at dodgeball. yeah, theres a reason i abandoned this one.

Hunk always hated playing dodgeball. Not because he was bad at it--though he was--but because he always ended up the last one standing, and therefore the only target for the entire other team. It was due to a tendency to hang unnoticed in the back, he knew, but that didn't change the sickening, empty feeling of looking around and realizing there's no one left but him, and there's no way he can win. Only wait for the inevitable.

This, Hunk decides, is a lot like that, only, like, a billion times worse.

Best/worst last line?

Best: The Pining-Plant. there are a few others that were cute too but this one is also good out of context so

And then the pod swishes open and he's scrambling to catch Pidge as she stumbles out. She clings to his arms to steady herself and his heart swells.

"Falling for me again, huh?" he asks, and she groans loudly.

"Let me go, I'm getting back in the pod," she says, and he laughs. He doesn't let go, and neither does she.

Worst: if im bad at titles, im worse at endings. most are bad. i suspect the ending to “Rest” is terrible but i cant bring myself to even open that shit again so: Believe Me. if weather were a recurring theme in this fic, itd be fine, but as is its just... a weird note to end the fic on lmao

Hunk rocks back on his heels. "We aren't counting this as our official first date, right?"

"I dunno," Keith says, and now he smiles at the rain instead of frowning. It shows no sign of easing up, but whatever—they're soaked anyway. "This seems pretty good to me."

“...All right.” If nothing else, it’ll make a good story. And, Hunk had to admit—he’s pretty happy with how it’s turned out, rain and all.

But next time, he's double-checking the forecast, just in case.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

more than i expected! considering ive been in grad school all year!! i wrote about the same amount wordcount-wise in 2017 which i spent only half in school so. idk how i managed it.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

the anonymous fic was a surprise but im not gonna talk about that lol. otherwise... nah, its all been my usual stuff.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

blackbird, probably. i like working on that one. summer heat was also fun, id sort of forgotten about it bc it was a zine fic but coming back to it, i really liked it. likewise with third time’s the charm. and i like t6p a lot even if i kinda hate drawing for it :’)

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

depends on your metric. window of opportunity has the most kudos, keith and lance’s island adventure has the most hits, and t6p has the most comments and subscriptions. 

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

AT THE END OF MANY WORLDS. oh man i killed myself over that fic. it was important to me. but i think the mcd scared everyone off :’)

Story that could have been better?

i realize “all of them” is kind of a cop out answer but like

Sexiest story?

i have written nothing sexy, ever, in my whole life

Saddest story?

i mean, ateomw. considering all the death. blackbird def has its moments too.

Most fun?

i feel like i answered this in the favorite story q lmao. you’re my home also gets a shoutout, that thing was,, super self-indulgent lmao. and id be lying if i said i didnt have fun with parts of ateomw, even if its mostly sad.

Story with single sweetest moment?

man i write a lot of fluff but so much of you’re my home is just tooth-rotting. heres part of the proposal scene lmao

"Lance!" Keith yelps, barely rescuing the ring from falling into the sand with them. Lance pushes himself up on his arms, silhouetted by the sun and glowing with it.

"Really?" he asks breathlessly.

"Yeah," Keith says, and maybe he should've prepared something to say, that's a thing people do, right? Hell, he's winging it. "I know we can't stay here on Earth forever, 'cause we're paladins, and there's still stuff out there we gotta do. And I know you probably want to stay because this is your home—but you're my home, and if we gotta go, at least you'll have me, good or bad." He grins crookedly. "Or rocket science. Whatever happens, I'll be there."

Hardest story to write?

well t6p gets a shoutout, but its not the writing thats the hard part for that. uhhh ive struggled with parts of blackbird. i remember k&l’s island adventure giving me a LOT of trouble, i think i posted late lol

Easiest/most fun story to write?

anything short uhhh for all the infinite realities, i kind of just sat down the other day (actually i was in bed but) and was like “im gonna write this” and then in the morning i just sat down and wrote it in one go. i dunno if id call it fun, but it was easy. t6p is super fun to write but, as mentioned, drawing it sucks.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

no... my perceptions probably have shifted but not due to anything i wrote in particular. i did talk myself into liking allurance with a prompt fill, though, but im not sure that was 2018...

Most overdue story?

all the infinite realities lmao. at the end of many worlds needed that happy ending. and another shoutout to t6p, because thats been going on over a year and im still nowhere.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

does posting my abandoned wips count? ive still got some of those hanging around... blackbird was a bit of a risk bc my last longfic was written while i was unemployed and out of school, so like i had the time for it, and now i kinda dont. still chugging tho. ateomw b/c of all the death but it turns out i really like writing whump woops. and writing any sort of kissing always feels like a risk bc i suck at it but im getting better lol... i hope...

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

write more! finish things! do more sheith! i really want to work on this sheith longfic i came up with the other day... but i want to get blackbird over with first.

Tagging: eh! do it if you want to!

[mako-lies]

Finally finished the promnyx thing. You can read it here or on AO3.

yards & milkshakes (ffxv, promnyx, t, part of the oracle!gladio verse)

Nyx's milkshake brings Prompto to his yard.

(Or: Nyx jumps out of an airship and is lucky enough to get a lift from a cute mechanic.)

Nyx was honest enough to admit he didn’t exactly follow orders to the letter. (Sometimes at all, but those were special cases, even Crowe agreed.) Occasionally it could be bothersome, given his profession. But when your boss said, “You couldn’t even if you tried,” without looking up from his mission report, you just had to prove him wrong with all due respect. Which was how Nyx wound up warping out of the speeding airship, calling back to the others, “Race you to the City!”

Last thing he saw was Libertus’s exasperated smile.

+

They weren’t that far out from the Crown City when he’d jumped out like some idiot action hero. Which, if half the stories the Glaives told about him over drinks were to be believed, wasn’t a bad description. Leide was hot as ever, especially in his leathers, but it wasn’t Galahd hot, so he’d pull through.

He warped out his landing, smack in a gaggle of grumpy garula. Just typical. Nyx considered them in that split second before they charged, his kukris up and ready as ever. Garula meat fetched a good price, but he didn’t really need the money. Not like he had anybody to spend it on, anyway. And the outposts could do their own hunting, they didn’t need some city slicker sliding in to do it for them. Most outposts had conservation programs for the herds these days. Who knew what elaborate planning he’d fuck up if he just killed them.

Yeah. Running it was.

Two towering adults and three car-sized babies started toward him then. He tossed one of his kukris and appeared, running, his stomach swooping out and tingling from the warp. Like drinking liters and liters of soda that had been all shook up.

Tusks first, the herd raged after him, ground rumbling like an earthquake.

The road rose up ahead, thankfully closer than he’d been expecting, and—

A neon yellow truck screeched to an abrupt halt just ahead of him.

Nyx warped again as the door shot open to reveal a lanky young man. A tuft of blond hair, styled like chocobo tail feathers. A neon yellow tank with hot pink lettering—HAMMERHEAD!!!—and the tiniest pair of frayed denim shorts Nyx had ever seen, and he’d been to Lestallum plenty. His entire look was topped with some black, thick-rimmed glasses that he’d seen kids wearing in the Crown City.

“Garula!” Nyx called, pulling in a breath so he could warp again. If this guy didn’t get moving, Nyx was gonna have to kill the beasts after all. Damn.

The guy flashed a smile—all sunshine and freckles—and in one hand he held a beat up, old school camera and in the other, a revolver that looked like it came out of one of those cowboy movies his mom’d liked. It was a lot to take in: somebody less shiningly attractive probably couldn’t have pulled it off, but as it was, the effect was breathtakingly silly.

The guy was so much to take in Nyx forgot to warp, just ran to the flashy truck and even flashier man. How old was he? Didn’t look older than twenty, but maybe that was just the pink converse haphazardly laced. “Get in!” He called, chipper for somebody holding a weapon.

Nyx was in no position to decline. He could outrun the garula, sure, and run back to the Crown City, but this guy looked like an adventure waiting to happen, and Nyx had a problem. That was what Libertus told him, anyway.

“‘Preciate it!” Nyx said, as he threw open the door.

The camera shutter sounded—taking a picture of the stampeding garula? Really?—guy was was probably crazy. Nyx could work with crazy.

Without firing a shot, the guy slid back into the driver’s seat and dumped the camera and gun in the backseat—and just gunned it. “Hang on,” he said, a second or two after he’d floored it. Better late than never? Wasn’t like Nyx objected to the thrill, lived for it, actually. The truck purred as it shot down the road. Nyx caught his breath. “I’m Prompto! Nice to meet ya!”

He turned to look at Nyx. His stomach lurched more than it had the first time he’d snatched up the King’s offered magick and warped. Hell. At the least the garula—Nyx double-checked the rearview mirror—were well behind them. “You one of those Crownsguard guys?”

“Kingsglaive, but close enough. Name’s Nyx Ulric.” Outside of the city, the distinction carried little heft, but inside it was everything.

“Headed to the city?” At Nyx’s tense nod, Prompto finally turned his full attention to the road. “Lucky I found you. I’m on my way to the Crown City, and well. Never been before, so I could use some company. Besides, you’re like super hot. Wins all around.”

Well. He was being flirted with. Guy was cute, and he’d saved Nyx a lot of trouble. A winning combo, for sure. “What’s your business in Insomnia?”

“Eh, you know. The uze. My dad kicked me out and now I’m off to college.”

“Your dad kicked you out?” Maybe he shouldn’t ask, but it was a hell of an opener.

“Yeah. Y’know Hammerhead? I work there. Or I did, before he fired me.” He half-shrugged, both hands firmly on the wheel.

It explained why the truck ran so smooth when most cars outside the Wall tended to be beat up at best. Did that mean that old mechanic at Hammerhead was his dad? Never would have guessed. Prompto didn’t look like he has an ornery bone in his body. “Know what you’ll study?”

“Eh, I’m gonna study poli-sci. Maybe someday I’ll get into politicks and everything,” he said with the air of somebody doing standup at their own hanging.

There’s weren’t a lot of white collar jobs for Outlanders, but especially politicks was a rich nobleman’s game. Still, if he could get his foot in the door, that’d be good for the Outlands, right? Nyx didn’t really know much about politicks, but it couldn’t be bad to have some more kinds of people making decisions. “Know anybody in the city?” He could already see the checkpoint looming up ahead.

“Well, I know you!”

It pulled a laugh from him. Cute. Forward. It didn’t hurt that Nyx had always had a soft spot for blonds. “Yeah,” Nyx agreed. “If you give me your number, I could help you out.”

Prompto beamed, all teeth and blinding light. “And here I was, hoping you might invite me to dinner!”

“Could do that.”

Prompto took both hands off the wheel to shove his phone at Nyx. Hell, Nyx couldn’t say for sure that reckless was his type, but it really should have been alarming and not flattering as hell that Prompto would risk their safety just for Nyx’s number. His heartbeat picked up even as Prompto put his hands back on the wheel.

He programmed himself into Prompto’s phone, a newer model with King’s Knight installed. Nyx put the phone on the dash. “There you are.”

“Thanks!” Prompto slowed as they hit the checkpoint. “So, Mr. Kingsglaive, got any tips for getting through?”

“I got it.”

He was ready to flash his Citadel badge, except the watch took one look at the car and asked, “You Prompto Sophiar?”

Prompto chewed his lip, fingers drumming the wheel. “Yep. That’s me!”

“Papers? The King just notified us that you would be coming.”

The King ? Nyx couldn’t help but stare as the guy fished out some old ratty papers from his tiny shorts. The girl examined them. “Looks to be in order. Who’s your friend?”

Nyx flashed his ID and they were let in without any more fuss. “The King?” Nyx had to ask.

“Oh, him and my dad used to be friends or something. Does that mean I have to meet him?”

“Probably. Want me to show you the Citadel?”

Prompto stared at where it loomed in the distance. “Thanks, but I wanna get settled a bit first. Where can I drop you?”

It would be easy enough to tell him where his apartment was, but Nyx had never been one to do things the easy way. And the guy was cute, biting his lip as he navigated the city with considerable more care than he took in the Outskirts. “My apartment is fine. How about lunch first? I know I promised dinner, but…”

Prompto took his gaze off the road for a half second, eyes wide, then he grinned. “Maybe a quick snack would be ok. Do you know somewhere nearby?”

“Sure. There’s a place that does burgers and milkshakes a few blocks down from my place.”

“That sounds like, amazing. Let’s do it!”

+

They made it without any mishaps, and Prompto even remembered his wallet and his camera. It was a small place, just a few tables with mismatched tables and a counter with a couple of worn stools. A family was there, taking up two of the tables, dipping their thick cut fries into their milkshakes.

Prompto beamed. “You sure know how to cheer a guy up.” He surveyed the menu. “The strawberry looks ama-zing.” He  snapped a quick picture of the menu.

Before he could put the camera away, Nyx had already ordered and paid for their shakes. One strawberry and one mango. Contrary to what Crowe liked to tell Libertus, he could be a gentleman. Especially when there were cute blonds involved. Prompto let his camera hang around his neck. He squinted at Nyx from behind his boxy glasses and didn’t seem to notice the cashier staring at his (lack of) shorts. “Speedy. Well, I’ll just get it next time, then…”

Bold, if not a bit presumptuous. But that was the kind of thing that unfortunately worked for Nyx.

They sat by the window, and Prompto kept twitching for his camera as people walked by. He got a shot of some kids in their high school uniforms, then asked, “So uh. Why did you join the… Kingsglaive?”

Nyx didn’t pay attention to the way his fingers toyed with the fringe on his shorts. Nope. Guy had nice legs though. “Well,” he tried to think of a more delicate way to put it, but didn’t come up with anything. Guy’d asked. If he couldn’t handle the answer, best to know now, probably. “Why does anybody join the military? Grew up in Galahd.”

That seemed to explain everything to Prompto. He toyed with the subdued black leather wristband he wore. Nyx frowned. The black stuck out, given his screaming outfit, but he hadn’t noticed. Then, if Prompto had some connection to the King—still. Strange.

“Guess that makes sense. Sorry, shouldn’t have pried…” Prompto said.

Could have been worse. At least he seemed to get it, unlike most of the Insomnians. Outlanders were good that way. Given that the Outlands were all either already swallowed up by the Empire, or one step away from it… Same story, across all of what had once been Lucis. Soon, they’d probably have an influx of new Glaives.

Their milkshakes arrived, thick and sweating in their glasses, and Prompto lit up like one of the signs in Insomnia’s city center. He hid his face behind the camera and asked, muffled by the plastic, “Can I get a picture of you? And the milkshakes?”

“…Why not?”

Nyx held up the two milkshakes, obliging, and thought maybe it was worth it when Prompto flushed at him. “You can have a copy after I develop them… I’ll just have to find somewhere to do it… Man, it sucks—I had my own darkroom before.”

Not sure why he’d need a picture of himself and some milkshakes, but Prompto looked happy and maybe he could give it to Crowe just to prove he’d actually gone on a date, or whatever this was. “Here,” Nyx said, feeling like the least smooth person in the world.

(Growing up in the Glaive would do that to a person: surrounded by people like Crowe and Drautos and poor Pelna, who couldn’t even land a blind date.)

“Oh yeah, I’ll definitely come to your yard,” Prompto chirped, as he took the milkshake.

Halfway, his hands stalled and his freckled skin went bright with a flush. He fumbled his drink and only barely kept his grip on the slippery glass.

Nyx frowned at him. “My yard?” He had no idea what yards had to do with milkshakes, but he guessed it was some kind of sex thing from the mortified way Prompto hid his face after plopping the shake on the table.

“It’s a song,” he said, and then laughed, looking back up with a wicked glint in his—blue?—eyes. “An amazing one.”

Definitely a sex thing. He’d have to listen to it, so that next time he could tease the hell out of him. Seemed like he’d be a fun target. Prompto slurped up about half his shake in one go, crazy guy. Nyx was a bit slower—enough cases of brain freeze would teach a person. Contrary to popular belief, he could learn new tricks.

Sure enough, a moment later, Prompto clutched at his skull, face screwing up like he’d been stabbed. “Slow it down, hot stuff,” Nyx said around his straw.

“So. Many. Regrets,” Prompto moaned, but a second later he was back at it.

Well, Nyx couldn’t really fault him. The milkshakes were amazing. Cold and barely liquid: just ice cream with a bit of fruit mixed in. He really did love this place. Crowe used to take him and Libertus here all the time, when training was particularly tough. “All right, I’ll bite. Why would a mechanic want to go into politics?”

After a long pause where Prompto whined through the consequences of finishing his shake, Prompto finally answered, “Well, like, in school I was always really interested in it? My adopted dad… He’d had a falling out with the King because of immigration policy, y’know? So I got curious why, especially when my crazy uncle would come to visit and tell me about their awesome adventures from the good ol’ days. You know Reggie and Clarus and Cor and my dad? And so I got super curious, because they sounded like such good friends?”

Crazy uncle? And was Reggie supposed to be the King? This was getting more interesting by the minute, and not in the sexy way, but in the oh shit was this actually work-related kind of way, which would be awful. Shitting where you ate just made things complicated. “Sure. Just real quick. Your crazy uncle is…?”

“Cor. He always came to visit me. I guess he was the one who convinced my dad to adopt me,” Prompto shrugged like that wasn’t a revelation at all, but Nyx hadn’t gotten to where he was without being able to read the air. This was way bigger than Prompto probably knew. “So anyway, I wanted to know why immigration was something that could break up the strongest friendship I’d ever heard of? So I went down the politicks wormhole in school, and… Well. Started talking big about how if there were more Outlanders in politicks… More people who look like… well, me, that maybe things might change a bit? But I said it too loud, and my dad was all like ‘that’s a great idea, sonny, now yer fired and off to Insomnia with you, bwahaha.’ Can you believe it? Evil laugh and everything.”

Prompto’s face was calm, at odds the animation in his voice, complete with a telltale Leide twang when he mimicked his father. Nyx was sure there was more there—Prompto’s blond hair wasn’t damning in itself, but he sure as hell didn’t look Insomnian—but he wasn’t gonna ask. Not his business. “I think your dad might have been on to something,”said Nyx, then finished up his shake before he could really stick his foot in his mouth.

Prompto sighed. “Well, I’m here now. And my sister said that if I ended up sleeping in an on-fire dumpster, she’d convince him to let me come home. So. There’s that!” He smiled. Then glanced at his phone. Sighed again. “This has been super cool… Sorry about rambling. But I kind of have to meet my new landlord before four… Mind if I drop you home?”

“Nah. I live a few blocks away. I can walk. It’ll give me time to think of what to tell my boss.”

“…Your boss?”

“I jumped out of a ship against orders earlier,” he shrugged, and as Prompto’s eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to ask a question, Nyxsaid, “You’ve got my number. Once you get settled, you wanna do this again?”

Prompto leaned over the table, close enough Nyx could see that his eyes were definitely blue. “Like a date?”

There it was. Out in the open. It was a relief. Nyx had no idea how to do this shit. It wasn’t like he’d ever—”Yeah,” he said, “Like a date. So once you get set up, we’ll work out the details. And I’ll see about getting you an audience with the King.”

“That’d… be super amazing. Wow, Cindy’ll never believe this. Wow.” They both stood, and once they got out onto the street, Prompto launched—hugged Nyx quick and bright.  “I’m really, really looking forward to it.”

Nyx clasped him briefly, before Prompto rocketed off just as quick as he came on. “I’ll see you soon,” he called, as Prompto threw himself into the car. And then he was gone.

The walk home was shorter than he remembered. He’d meant to call Drautos, but all he could do was think about Prompto’s pretty legs, infectious smile, bright attitude, freckles. And when he got home, he found that Prompto’d already sent him a text: about fifty smiley emojis.

He told himself to shower before answering—

Except he sent of a “drive safe” before he even got his jacket off. Now, to find out what yards and milkshakes had to do with each other.