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mulloey · 6 days ago

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chapter one.

in full bloom.

dominant ateez x submissive reader.

series warnings: heavy bdsm dynamics, subspace, rules and punishments, kink exploration, eventual romance, heavy/extreme kinks in later chapters. the characters engage in consensual controlling behaviour under the agreement of a 24/7 bdsm dynamic. this story does not represent ateez in any way; i merely use them as muses for my own characters. specific warnings will be in each chapter.

chapter warnings: discussions of bdsm dynamics, allusions to previous unhealthy dominants.

words: 4k.

welcome to in full bloom! this is my new (and first) series that i’ve been working on for a while now. you may remember an old fic of mine, new girl—this is a reworked & expanded version of it! so if you think you’ve read a similar thing before, you probably have, though this is (i hope) much better than the earlier version. your feedback is much appreciated🖤

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There’s a chill in the air today. Not quite cold enough to be biting, but noticeable; an early sign of autumn, perhaps—it’s why your nose is tinged red and a little stuffy when you finally make it to the bar where you’re supposed to meet your friend.

She’s behind the bar when you walk in, leaning over the counter with her weight rested on her elbows. She looks bored—unsurprising, really, when you’re pretty much the only people here right now.

It’s a slow day, as it always is in the middle of the week, but she knows that’s how you like it; the busyness and the happenings of the weekends, even if largely contained to the private rooms, are a little overwhelming, particularly for someone who hasn’t technically done anything more than observe since college.

It was Maya, who rounds the bar when she spots you with a relieved expression, who first introduced you to the world of kink—you’d heard about it of course, like any other person your age, but it wasn’t until a drunken dorm party and a slurred answer in a game of truth or dare, that you took any interest in it.

“Never have I ever tied someone up.”

A few years later you hear the question in your head as clearly as if the drunken frat boy were right next to you shouting it out still.

The question that started it all—when Maya raised her hand, all confidence, and seeing the way you stared in shock at her admission, asked with her eyes fixed on you if you wanted to give it a try.

You never got much further than that, never dared to explore anything more than leashes and riding crops and yes ma’ams, but it laid the groundwork.

Is it groundwork, though, if nothing has actually come from it yet?

Maya says no. Perhaps that’s why she’s been so eager to set you up with one of her regulars—or maybe it’s because, even from a distance, she can tell you’re in desperate need of it.

You won’t deny it—you’re in a rut, literally and figuratively; your job is boring, your love life is so depressing that you’ve given up on romance all together, and the whole world just seems…duller than usual. Or maybe you’re duller than usual.

Either way—life is stagnating. You’re stagnating. And she knows better than anyone exactly what you need to bring you back to life.

You need release, she says. You need care and guidance and a chance to surrender it all, even if only for a moment. And if not that, then you at least need fun.

She must be at least partially right, you admit; you must want this on some level, or you’d have told her to knock it off already.

It’s entertaining, at the very least, to hear about all the people who have an interest in you, even if you always end up finding a reason to shoot them down.

And if you don’t, she usually will.

She wouldn’t just hand you off to anyone, after all; when it comes to her best friend, particularly given it was her who introduced you to this lifestyle in the first place, her standards are even higher than yours. She’d take you back under her wing and give you that release herself if she wasn’t in a relationship with someone else now.

Today, though, she seems optimistic. Perhaps she’s found someone good.

“You look happy,” you say, pulling away from her slightly crushing hug. “Got something good?”

“Like you won’t believe,” she smiles. “Let’s go.”

You let her drag you to your usual booth, tucked in next to the bar where it’s a little more private. You slide in next to her as always and watch silently as she pulls out her phone; she puts it on the table, face down, and turns to you with what you can tell is a barely restrained grin.

“I have someone,” she says. “Like, someone legit.”

Okay. That’s promising. She doesn’t use the word legit lightly. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Not too much older than you and really, really hot.” She pauses for a moment, hesitant and you bite back a smile—here it comes. The great and terrible but.

He’s perfect for you, but he’s 47. You’ll love her, but she smokes seven packs a day and coughs like she’s swallowed a blood clot.

“Come on,” you say. “Out with it. What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” she says quickly. “It’s just…”

“Just?”

“Well, uh. There’s eight of them.”

“Eight?” You don't realise you’re shouting until Maya clamps a hand hurriedly over your mouth, hissing at you to be quiet. You pull it off with a mumbled apology and she rolls her eyes and slaps you lightly on the arm.

”Keep calm, alright?” She says. “I know eight is… a lot, sure, but I know these guys. They know what they’re doing. I’ve played with them before, actually, a couple times.”

Well, that has your attention. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued; Maya is a switch, technically, but she far, far prefers being in control—which means either they’re switches too, in which case you, being submissive to the core and not a fan of sharing your dominants, might not be a good fit, or…

“Played with them as in…” You trail off, but she knows what you’re getting at.

“I was their sub,” she says. “Just for a couple of scenes, but yeah.”

Oh. Wow. You’ve never actually seen Maya submitting to someone, even when you tagged along nervously with her to the actual, proper BDSM club she frequents, but you know her well enough to know that it takes a particular kind of person—and a particular kind of skill—to get her to submit. To make her even want to submit in the first place.

Intrigued would be an understatement.

“Okay,” you say. You can’t quite believe you’re even entertaining this, the idea of submitting to eight people at once, but the words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “Tell me about them.”

You’re at the bar at 6.30 sharp the next day; this time, you’re clad in a blue dress that falls just below your mid-thigh; modest but enticing. Just like any other first date you’ve been on, you tell yourself—and it is just another first date.

Though admittedly most of your first dates didn’t involve eight men and a long, long list of kinks.

The list is in your hands, printed for you by Maya at their request. You were told to take your time going over it, but the sight of it when she pushed it into your hands this morning made you nauseous so you decided to put it out of your mind until you calmed down. Luckily, well, by design actually, you’re here early—they’re not supposed to arrive for another hour, which gives you time to sit down in your usual spot and mull it over. Maya is opposite you this time, sifting through the week’s accounts and helping you with anything you don’t understand, but she’d pressed the importance of doing this alone.

After all, you’re the one they’d be doing these… things to.

It starts fairly gently, by design you presume; you carefully fill in the ‘yes’ boxes next to praise, verbal commands and spanking — hand.

“Maya,” you say. “What’s breath play?”

“Choking, usually,” she says. She looks up briefly from her work like she’s trying to gauge your reaction. “Anything that restricts your breathing.”

Oh. You’ve been choked before, of course, but the term they’ve chosen makes you think this could be a lot deeper than that. A lot more intense. You fill in the box that says ‘interested.’

The next page, you find when you reach the bottom of the first and flip it over, is titled impact play. You’ve already checked ‘yes’ for hand spanking, so it starts with a few different implements and positions—but what really grabs your attention is that beneath the title, in a small subtitle, are the words impact play — ass.

The implication is clear and it makes your stomach twist with a feeling you can’t quite place. Where else, exactly, are they planning to hit you?

You’ll find out in a moment, you suppose.

In the first subsection you mark ‘yes’ to belts, paddles, rulers, hairbrushes, wooden spoons and riding crops. Floggers and canes go in the ‘interested’ section—you certainly want to try, but the words and the images they conjure up are a little too intimidating to straight up say yes to. Only whips go in the limit — soft section.

Maya explains the positions listed, and though some of them sound awkward and a little painful to hold, the thought of it is strangely thrilling. Maybe they’d tie you in place; maybe hold you down, even. Or maybe they’d leave it all up to you, letting the punishment continue for as long as you fail to stay still. You mark ‘yes’ to each one.

The next subsection is called impact play — pussy.

Well, that answers that question. You say yes to hands, rulers and wooden spoons. The rest go in ‘maybe’, and the whip goes in limit — hard. You don’t think you’d enjoy that.

Most of the items in the bondage, sex toys and roleplay sections go in ‘yes’ and by the time you reach the end, having filled out the very appropriately titled extreme kinks section, you feel about ready to keel over. Maya looks like she’s trying not to laugh.

“You know they don’t actually want to cut you,” she says gently. “They explained it to me before too. They just want to cover all bases so you know what to expect.”

“Okay,” you nod. “That’s…better. Most of it seems fun, though, I just…”

“Have limits,” she says, finishing the sentence where you’d trailed off, unable to find the right words. You nod and she smiles, reaching to squeeze your hand. “Limits are important. I’m certain they’ll always respect them but if they don’t, you haul ass out of there, alright?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

“You always are. Ah!” Her face lights up in recognition and you turn around, watching silently as she strides towards eight men standing by the bar. That must be them. Your stomach twists.

They smile politely at her as she approaches, greeting her with friendly embraces but their gazes find you quickly and stay fixed on you like they’re stuck.

You’ve never felt so small in your life.

The sound of Maya calling your name pulls you from your thoughts; you look up to meet her gaze and she beckons you over with a reassuring smile. “C’mon, babe,” she says. “Don’t be scared.”

There’s a teasing lilt in her voice and you roll your eyes before you can stop yourself; the men next to her smile, and a few of them laugh softly. It sets you a little more at ease; at least enough for you to gather the courage to stand up and shuffle nervously towards them.

Maya showed you their faces yesterday—they’re idols, apparently, and almost stupidly handsome—and helped you learn each of their names, but still you’re not sure where to look; who to look at—even under the low lighting of the bar they’re far more striking in person; they’re taller and larger than you, with a presence, an energy that’s even more intimidating. You’ve never wanted to run—whether away from them or directly into their arms and control, you’re not sure—more in your life.

“Hello.” None of the confidence you’ve trained yourself to project on usual first dates is present in your quiet, shaking voice, but if they notice, they don’t mention it as they bid their hellos.

“Well.” One of the men, Hongjoong, claps his hands cheerfully, jovially—like this is a business meeting or a conversation between friends instead of…well. This. “Let’s not stand around out here. Maya, is our usual place free?”

“Reserved it for you,” she says and he nods, pleased. You swear you see her cheeks tint a little, faintly pink. Huh.

He turns his attention back to you, and the warmth and friendliness on his face takes you by surprise. There’s none of the desire or predation you usually see in people’s eyes here; none of the quiet, barely restrained leering you always found yourself shrinking under on the rare occasions you’d allowed Maya to introduce you to other dominants in the past. He—all of them, in fact—just looks…nice. Curious. You like that, you think. It’ll make it easier to survive what’s surely going to be the weirdest first date of your entire life.

“We have a nice little private booth here that we like to use,” he explains to you. “It’s just behind some curtains, so you can leave at any time if you’re uncomfortable, but we find it’s better to talk in private. Is that alright?”

He’s careful, too, yet he doesn’t seem hesitant or unsure even as he awaits your response; confident, but not presumptuous. You like that, too. You smile. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll follow you.”

The booth is oddly calm; thin, almost translucent curtains shield you from the rest of the bar but don’t hide it entirely so you can look through it and just scarcely make out the figures on the other side, shuffling about as usual. Inside, low blue lighting casts the little nook in a dim glow. They let you sit at the end, not wanting you to feel trapped; the gesture is thoughtful, but it does little to mitigate the weight of their gazes on you. Their attention is constricting and suffocating as much as electrifying.

It doesn’t exactly feel wrong, though.

“We’ve already placed our orders, but would you like a drink?”

It’s the first time someone other than Hongjoong has spoken properly; Seonghwa’s voice is deep, velvety; seductive in a way that feels effortless. Much about him in particular, sat next to Hongjoong and twirling a ring absentmindedly around his finger, is seductive, but it’s gentle, too; tender and warm. A balance you haven’t encountered in quite such intensity before, yet somehow makes perfect sense. You nod. “Just water, if that’s okay,” you say. “I don’t really drink much.”

“That’s good,” he smiles. “Water it is.”

The waiter arrives a minute or so later, though the nerves make it feel like a lot longer, and places the drinks carefully down before leaving; Jongho, sat directly opposite you, hands you your water with a smile before passing the other drinks down the table without a word like he already knows exactly what each of them want. They must be close. Or they must do this a lot. You’re not sure how you feel about the latter.

Jongho, who turns back to you with a friendly smile, seems a little more reserved than the others, but there’s a glint in his eyes that hints at something else—at another side of him waiting to be discovered. Already you desperately want to be the one to unwrap it.

“Shall we start, then?” Hongjoong asks. For a man who, despite being the shortest, is also somehow among the most intimidating of the group, his voice is oddly calming; the low, level tone soothes nerves you weren’t even fully aware of. “We heard a little about you from Maya. Do you want to tell us a bit more yourself, or would you rather we go first?”

He has a careful way of speaking, of addressing you that makes you feel oddly safe; speaks to the care and seriousness Maya had assured you they all viewed this arrangement with. You nod. “You can go first, please.”

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll make you a deal, then. I’ll go first, but you have to look at me. No more staring down at the table.”

You flush a little, feeling strangely chastised but still you lift your gaze with as much confidence as you can muster and the pleased smile on his face makes it all feel worth it. “Good,” he nods. “Very good. Did Maya tell you what we do?”

“You’re idols,” you say. “I looked you up, too.”

“Ah?”

“Yeah. You’re good.”

He smiles, seeming genuinely flattered, a little shy even, and it makes you smile too. “So I’m assuming you’re aware of our need for discretion,” he says.

“Of course,” you reply quickly. “I…I prefer discretion too. This stuff is private, for me. Personal.”

“Great, we’re on the same page then.” He leans back a little, curling his hand around his glass. It’s around halfway full with a drink you don’t immediately recognise; whiskey, maybe, if you had to guess. “Tell me, why did you decide to meet us? I’m sure Maya’s tried to set you up with a lot of people, knowing her.”

You pause, a little hesitant. They don’t make any move to rush you. “Well,” you start. “To be honest, it’s mostly that Maya was so eager for it. She usually isn’t this excited, but she thought you’d be good for me—and that I could be, you know, good for you.” The last words make you flush a little, but they look nothing but pleased.

“That’s what she said to us too.” All of their voices are nice, but something about Yunho’s is especially pleasing; calming. There’s a small, knowing smile on his lips as he continues. “She told us all about how good you’d be.”

“Oh.” You can’t think of another response, especially not with all your blood rushing to your head at a million miles an hour. They don’t seem to mind, though.

“Mhm,” Hongjoong hums. “As for us, we usually find our partners through matching sites,” he says. “Then we meet them here for the first time. But we’ve not had the best luck recently, so we thought we’d try it the old fashioned way, here.”

“The old fashioned way?”

“In person,” he clarifies. “Blind dates, sort of. We spoke to Maya about it and she told us what a natural submissive you are, so of course we wanted to meet you for ourselves.”

Your face warms and you feel yourself shrinking in embarrassment a little, not just at his words but at the idea of Maya offering you up to these men so wantonly—and at the way your stomach twists at the thought with a feeling you wouldn’t dare to name.

“And, um…” You start to trail off, already second guessing yourself but they give you an encouraging smile, and you let yourself relax a little. You’re fine. “What do you think so far? About me?”

There's a beat of silence that seems to drag on before Seonghwa speaks. His words are slow; careful. Deliberate. “Well, we heard about you and saw some pictures, and I can tell you we all liked what we saw. We wouldn’t be here otherwise. And I can tell you that personally, I think you’re even better in person.”

When you look up, smiling shyly, you find all their gazes fixed firmly on you and for the first time since you met them, you see an unmistakable desire in their eyes; a lust that burns hot against your skin. But it doesn’t make you feel ashamed or objectified as it had with others in the past, for some reason—perhaps because these men have been so respectful so far, or perhaps because of how much you want them too.

What you do know now, though, is that you absolutely, unequivocally need this to happen; need this to go ahead. You want their hands on your body, their marks on your skin, and you want them.

And miraculously, they seem to want you too.

You just…you’re not entirely certain of why.

Obviously you’re compatible, that’s clear—but they’re gorgeous. And famous. And if Maya is to be believed, extremely skilled. You are, comparatively at least, nothing.

“Can I ask you something too?” You say quietly. They hum, affirmative and you swallow your nerves. You’re a big girl, you tell yourself—you can ask a question. “You’re idols. You could have…anyone, really. Why choose me?”

“I wouldn’t say we can have anyone,” Wooyoung responds, chuckling slightly. The others smile a little, seeming amused but you don’t get the sense they’re laughing at you. It feels more fond than mocking, actually. Sweet, even. “Not many people are willing to uproot themselves to submit to eight people at once. Which is understandable of course. And among the ones who are willing, even fewer are suited to our tastes. We can be quite demanding.”

“Demanding?”

“Strict,” San clarifies. “We have high expectations for our submissives. Most can’t or don’t want to meet them. We think you could, with our help.”

You think you could too. The knot in your stomach tightens at the image. “Yeah.”

He hums, nodding a little. “And you’re obviously beautiful, of course, so there’s that too, but it’s your gift for submission that’s particularly difficult to find. That’s what made us so eager.”

“Ah.” There’s something thrilling in the way he talks to you, about you; lapping praise on you in a way that feels so…emotionless. Unaffected. Factual, rather than complimentary.

Like they’ll give you everything you earn and nothing more.

“What’s on your mind?” Hongjoong asks. “You seem a little dazed.”

You huff out an awkward laugh, trying to ease the tension that’s wrapped itself around you like coils of rope. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Just a lot to take in.”

“I understand,” he says. “This would be overwhelming for anyone. You’re doing really well, though.”

“Thank you,” you mumble; everything they say is making you feel smaller and more embarrassed.

It’s not a bad feeling, though. Nice, even. Something about being tiny and helpless and exposed beneath their gazes, beneath their control, feels like everything you could ever want.

The rest of the evening passes comfortably; even with the lingering elephant in the room, you find yourself talking happily, even casually with them. The weight that usually presses on you when you meet a new dominant; the feeling of being intimidated and scrutinised and with everything to prove, isn’t present tonight.

There’s tension, yes, but you feel at ease with them; natural, even. It’s not a feeling you thought could exist in this sort of relationship.

You don’t realise how tired you are nor how heavy your eyes are becoming until a large, uncertain hand closes on top of yours. Mingi’s touch is cautious, tentative; like the simple act of feeling your skin on his is something monumental and significant to him. You like that; the carefulness of it all. The humanness, even. Too often you’ve found dominants unwilling to do anything but, well, dominate. Unwilling to be human, to show a crack in the facade.

Everything about these men is refreshing; novel in the best way. Though you’ve been doing these things for years now, you somehow feel like you’ve discovered an entirely new world. Like you’re just on the cusp of everything.

“Sweetheart.” Mingi’s voice is gentle, a little raspy and there’s a soft smile on his lips. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Oh.” Suddenly you’re acutely aware of the exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders; the mental and physical toll of today that’s crept up on you like a hanging cloud. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Can we take you home?” Yunho asks. ��We can drive you back to your place.”

You shake your head. “I’m okay, thank you,” you say. “I’m pretty overwhelmed, to be honest.”

“That’s okay,” Hongjoong smiles. “Completely understandable.”

“At least let us pay for it, though,” Seonghwa suggests. You concede to that, and they look pleased; even you find yourself a little giddy—the feeling of being taken care of, even in such a small way, is admittedly one you’ve missed.

You sit around for a little longer before Hongjoong speaks, sounding serious. “Unfortunately we have to leave the country soon.” He sounds regretful; so are you, frowning sadly. He notices; his lips quirk with a small smile that almost feels fond. “Just for a few weeks. But that will give you a chance to think everything through by yourself, and we’ll text and call as much as you’d like while we’re gone. Then, when we’re back, we can give this thing a go, if you’re willing.”

“I am,” you say quickly. A few of them laugh again, and Mingi squeezes your hand.

“I meant if you’re willing then,” Hongjoong clarifies. “But I’m glad you’re eager.” You don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice. You wonder if that’s the type of dominant he is, too; the kind that likes to play with his food.

They don’t touch you as they walk you out, careful to keep the distance, though you can tell (you hope, but your intuition hasn’t failed you yet) that they’re holding back. You suppose that’s what being with a celebrity will entail, if this really does go ahead, but it feels a little disappointing all the same.

They do, however, pull you into quick, hidden hugs, concealed by the other members crowding around you like a protective herd, before helping you into the taxi.

They’re still standing on the curb, watching you leave, when the taxi rounds the corner and disappears out of sight.

—

#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez x reader #ateez hard thoughts #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #choi san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #mulloey writes #series: in full bloom

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narutothoughts · 5 months ago

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Au where kid Naruto can see ghosts and occasionally bumps into old spirits that have been around for a very long time.

Sticking around anywhere from a year to a decade past their death is typical for spirits, so it's only the real stubborn bastards that hang on for longer.

Most of the time those ones just pop in to talk to the living human that can see them and leave again after a short introduction.

That being said, it's not exactly uncommon for Naruto to get their life story dumped on him before they float off like they didn't just confess war crimes to a seven year old.

If he’s entirely honest with himself, his favorites have always been the bitchy Uchiha always grumbling under their breath.

They’re funny.

Especially when they don’t like someone. The way they follow after one of the old council members Jiji likes in a veritable hoard to curse him out is hilarious.

Even the one super old Uchiha ghost (he can feel that kind of thing no matter how young a spirit looked when they died) some of the more open Uchiha told him was looking for his son. Apparently he hasn’t died yet and it’s been a long time.

Time passes, and his powers grow with him.

It’s only after the returns from his training trip that he speaks to the older Uchiha ghost looking for his son. Naruto promises to keep a look out for Madara and the two talk about Tajima’s life.

It’s…a lot.

It quickly becomes even more when two Madara’s start the fourth shinobi war.

Naruto tries to talk and ends up fighting and killing.

When he tells Tajima his son—his real one not Obito using his name—is a real bitch, the spirit just nods with a look of pure incredulity as Madara rants about Hashirama for the nth time.

Even Hashirama looks embarrassed as Tobirama and Mito give him a side eye.

Later, when Tajima quietly asks him to kill his son to put him out of his misery and stop the madness he’s fallen into, Naruto wishes he could be surprised. He isn’t.

He’s met enough Uchiha to be familiar with their particular brand of love and pragmatism.

It takes a while, but Naruto does it.

He cuts Madara’s head from his body with an Uchiha blade gifted to him by Sasuke.

Turns out that’s exactly what Kaguya was waiting for.

Naruto fights and fights and fights.

But it isn't enough. He isn't enough.

The world is full of smoke and ruin around him.

He’s the only one left to see the wars end with Kaguya's body sliced into countless pieces and burned to ash. Her forces are decimated around him.

Naruto lays down to rest but when he opens his eyes he sees green.

He isn’t in his time anymore but he’d be damn before he let all that death happen again!

Now he just has to go find madara and hashirama to help them make the village!

Only they’re both four years old at most, hidden behind the walls of their clan grounds. Not that walls mean anything to a shinobi like him.

Little madara is weirdly adorable with his chubby cheeks and penchant for fire.

Well, it was inconvenient for sure but it looks like he’ll just have to put the groundwork in with the current clan heads.

And while he was alive Tajima was actually really…

———

Basically Naruto makes some waves, peace talks start up, Madara’s dad figures out he’s a time traveler but makes the wildly incorrect assumptions about him just being from a few yrs in the future and also his future husband based on how much Naruto knows about him and treats Madara like his own

#uchiha tajima #naruto uzumaki #naruto #au #tajinaru

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odbuoyjemmity · 2 months ago

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Wintersea Basement Theory + Five Years

One thing I noticed a few rereads ago was there was an interesting line up between Corvus Crow becoming Chancellor of Great Wolfacre

"That he was enjoying his fifth year as state chancellor despite such a handicap was a daily miracle to Corvus Crow, and the question of whether he could sustain this implausible luck for another year was a daily anxiety"

(Nevermoor: The Trials of Morrigan Crow, Chapter One: The Cursed Crow)

and Jack's permanent residency at the Hotel Deucalion

"'Your chair? You've lived here all of five minutes and you've claimed the furniture? I've lived here five years. This happens to be where I eat my breakfast.'"

(Nevermoor: The Trials of Morrigan Crow, Chapter Twelve: Shadows)

Originally I wrote this off as a coincidence, since I had been of the camp that Jack's parents were dead and nothing more was to be said about it without more information. But! With Silverborn out we have more information, and I'm more interested now about what could possibly be up with Rosie and Arj and where they could be.

Last summer, when the final delay was announced, and AUS paperback/US cover was revealed, Jessica Townsend did a Q&A, with two answers in particular that I found curious [full transcript here and video by @/nevermoor source:

What’s one thing about the direction of the series from Silverborn onwards you can say? This is such a good question, So I remember, one or two books ago, talking to my publishers about kind of the structure of the series and the way that I see it. And I've talked about this before in interviews about how I see the series as being like, it's all one story. It's all Morrigan. It's all Morrigan’s point of view. But thematically they feel to me like three separate “acts.” And I feel like the first act is Morrigan. It's like her immediate world. It's herself. It's her friends. It's finding a new family. It's finding her way in this new city. And books four to six sort of feel like it's zooming out. So we're in quite close on Morrigan and her immediate, like, experiences of the world personally. And it's seen through that lens. And then with four, five, and six, it's like, we sort of zoom out and just see more of the world. We see more of Nevermoor kind of socially and politically and geographically A lot of different parts of Nevermoor that we haven't seen open up. She learns more about the Wundrous Society, more about herself and her own past and origins and family. And then book seven, eight, nine kind of zoom out again. And we see… it's really tricky without trying to sort of give too much away, but, yeah… I feel like I nearly said too much.

Are we getting a realm hopping boom? Well! Definitely possibly!!

In Silverborn, Jack reveals that in the Spring Term, he's planning on accepting the League's offer to join them, with conditions around becoming an officer far sooner, to start his plans around joining the League and immediately going AWOL to look for his parents.

He smiled a disconcertingly vicious smile. 'Because I want them to keep coming on their little fishing expeditions. I always decline to speak to them, but I'm letting them see my resolution waver, and in the spring term I'll finally, reluctantly agree. Then my plan begins.' [...] 'I'm playing the long game. Laying the groundwork for a negotiation. If they want me to enlist, I'm going to be the first person in history to become a ranked officer at eighteen, after my year of academy training. As a lieutenant, I won't have to wait four years to travel to outer realms like the other academy chumps.' His eyes locked on Morrigan's, blazing with reflected firelight. 'And on my very first outer realm mission, I'll abandon ship, set out on my own, and find my parents.'

(Silverborn: The Mystery of Morrigan Crow, Chapter Thirty-Five: Merriment, Mystery, and Mutually Assured Destruction)

This scene ties into what was said in the Q&A

Is there more of Jack in Silverborn? There is more of Jack in Silverborn. I will be honest to tell you, there's not like a mountain of page time for Jack, but the scenes that he is in are crucial, and they're really important for… I would say that there's a scene with Jack in this book that is probably the most important scene in the book in terms of what it sets up for future, for the rest of the series. (I've probably said too much, that's all I'm gonna say.)

And the final part of the Q&A I find relevant/interesting to this is this part:

Will we see more of the Free State as opposed to just Nevermoor? Not in this book. In future books? I think so.

Now, what am I getting at here? Why am I calling it Wintersea Basement Theory? Um so the name is sort of a joke, like a very hyperbole thing of Rosie and Arj have been in Wintersea's Basement the whole time. Do I think they literally are? No? Yes? No? Maybe? Yes? I functionally think that Jack is not going to find his parents when he inevitably goes AWOL, but Morrigan is either going to ask Squall to help her, and find something nasty about that, either Corvus or Ornella were involved at some level, directly causing Corvus to become chancellor through some shady dealings, or that Bertram did something, or tried to stop it and failed. A big reason I think Morrigan is going to find Rosie and Arj is simply because she is the main character. That is what she does. It's so big that if it happened off screen, I think it would be less satisfying. I could be wrong, Jessica Townsend is a very skilled writer, but if I were writing that, I would have Mog find them. Or find out what happened to them. Why does Wintersea have them? Dunno, maybe they were spying on her and got caught à la what nearly happened to Jupiter when he met Ornella:

"As part of my work with the League of Explorers, I am sometimes required to provide intelligence to the Free State Security department regarding conditions in the Wintersea Republic ... could have made one cry for help, and I'd have been arrested and likely never seen again."

(Silverborn: The Mystery of Morrigan Crow, Chapter Forty-Four: The Letters From Jupiter)

In Chapter Thirty-Five of Silverborn, Jack says that his mother worked for the League, while his father was an interrealm diplomat. Although Jack says his parents were on an outer realm mission, it's not impossible that they might have lied to him, since that's a lot less vague and scary than "we're going to spy on our enemy nation for a fortnight or so, cheerio", although Arj's occupation wouldn't make much sense here, unless he was doing spy work as well. It's possible too that their gate was interfered with. I think it's been suggested already that Rosie or Arj was a spy for the Wintersea Republic, and did something. Chickened out, or got caught, or were double agents for the Free State. But they're in the Wintersea Republic, and Squall knows where they are/what happened to them, and at least one of the Crows adult had a hand in what happened to them and it's related to how Corvus became Chancellor.

#nevermoor #silverborn spoilers #rosamund korrapati #jack korrapati #rosie korrapati #arj korrapati #arjun korrapati #nevermoor theory #is this even coherent anymore idk im in a rush now lol

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atlasofthestaars · 2 years ago

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[MX X READER] New Era - Chapter .003

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: First off, thank you ALL so much for the support! I sincerely love every one of your comments so far, and feel grateful you all enjoy the story! The comments are lowkey pushing me to write this all, so again tysm for the support!

Hopefully this chapter showcases how I’ll try to implement extra scenes within the story! Because after this chapter we will divulge for a bit storywise to get bonding moments between the kharacters and the reader! I’m doing this due to the months time skip, and thought it’d be a good time to develop some of the relationships before the Outworld arc!

Sorry for how Lin Kuei heavy the interactions have been, but we’ll soon get the champion squad as the focus soon, so I did want to implement some of this groundwork first. That doesn’t mean the Lin Kuei are totally gone soon, especially since I also need to give Smoke his share of time together, but they will be used less often after this chapter so we can bond with the others.

ALSO, for those reading this on tumblr, please reply to the poll here whether you do want Shang Tsung as a love interest! It will affect my planning somewhat so I would like to gauge interest! AO3 fans, leave a comment on your thoughts !

ALSO ALSO! If you want a character included as a love interest that is NOT part of the initial roster mentioned in part one, please send in messages/leave comments mentioning it so I can see what you all want! It’s not a guarantee, but it is helpful to get input on those types of things.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED RECRUIT NEW ALLIES

“Only you and Kuai Liang for this mission?”

You eyed the blue clad and yellow clad assassins curiously as you walked into the room where the Lin Kuei trio typically sat when they were awaiting for Liu Kang. You pursed your lips as you walked right up in front of the two brothers, your gaze switching between them before they settled on Bi-Han. You crossed your arms as you watch Bi-Han’s gaze narrow.

“That should be more than enough.” Sub Zero replied gruffly, keeping his gaze on yours. It felt like a staring contest was always happening between you two. While most times you would entertain it, you instead searched his face. It was hard to tell whether Bi-Han was irritated, or if it was his grumpy face that he always wore, but from the years you knew him, you picked up on the tells.

This time, it was simply his natural face.

“I’m not saying it’s not enough, I’m just surprised.” You replied smoothly as you moved your gaze from Bi-Han’s face to the arm you had patched up yesterday. You sighed as you pulled out the medical kit you had tucked away on your person. “I would have thought that the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei would know how to regularly change his bandages.” You chided as you knelt beside where he was sitting.

“I know how to change my bandages, fool.” Sub Zero scoffed, but as usual let you come close to inspect the wound you had dressed. You let the insult go, you knew at this point any insults towards you were rarely meaningful. If he really hated you, he would have not even let you dress his wounds in the first place.

It was odd, before he used to be diligent about changing his own bandages. But nowadays it felt like he expected you to change it for him.

Maybe it was because you started to patch him up for him instead of letting the cryomancer do it himself. It had bugged you, how often he left wounds unattended. Never had they turned into infections, but it irritated you to no end. So one day, you just began to do it for him, despite his initial protests.

Now it was like a routine between you two. It didn’t happen often, since Bi-Han had become more proficient in avoiding injuries, but it happened enough that it felt like a routine.

You gently removed the bloodied bandages from around his right bicep. You hummed as you noted how it was healing. Carefully, you brushed your fingers over the wound to see it had begun to scab over. You noted the odd way he seemed to tense at this, and sent him a small glance.

“Relax, I’m not going to stab you.” You teased, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you returned your gaze back to the wound. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt Bi-Han’s gaze burn into you. Maybe being the pyromancer would have fit him better with how searing his gaze was like.

“As if you would get the chance.” He grumbled as he relaxed. You rolled your eyes as you carefully reapplied the bandages over the wound. Proud of yourself, you grinned as you pat the bandages on his bicep.

“Done.” You declared as you stood back up. You saw Bi-Han sigh as he reluctantly nodded in acknowledgement. You turned your gaze towards the younger brother, sending Kuai Liang a soft smile.

Strange, why did Bi-Han seem a bit irritated at your smile?

“Do you need any wounds of yours patched up while I’m at it?” You inquired as you walked over to stand in front of Scorpion. Returning your soft smile with one of his own, Kuai Liang shook his head, holding up a dismissive hand. His eyes sent an almost apologetic look towards you, as if apologizing for his brother.

“While appreciative, it is not necessary. I was not cut during the examination.” Kuai Liang reassured you with a small nod. You returned the nod, glad to hear the news. Still, your eyes roamed his body to see if he had any bruises that were beginning to bloom.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Your smile grew to a grin as you recalled the events of last night. The exam still buzzed in your head, and you could easily replay it in your head over and over. “Good performance, by the way. I didn’t get to tell you that yesterday.”

“I was simply doing the job as required.” Kuai Liang humbly said, though you could see a hint of what you interpreted as bashfulness within his expression. You laughed. The Lin Kuei trio, so different, yet all people you held close to your heart. They were the ones you considered to be your friends, and you only hoped they returned the sentiment.

“Come, Lord Liu Kang is ready for the both of you.” You beckoned them to follow, and almost in sync they stood up and followed your lead. It was quiet for a few moments as the three of you walked through the Fire Temple. You felt like a leader of a pack, with Kuai Liang on your left and Bi-Han on your right. You briefly wondered if this is how Liu Kang often felt. “Were you both informed of what our mission is, and where we are going?”

“From what I recall, we are going to California to recruit an actor and a swordsman to see if they will join Lord Liu Kang’s cause.” Scorpion piped up, and you nodded, pleased at how accurate his memory was.

“It is unnecessary for all three of us to have to go.” Bi-Han commented. Despite his words seeming rough, you could sense he was only speaking his mind and not trying to insult Liu Kang…even if he could definitely word it better.

“It is probably for the best for all of us to go, just in case.” The younger brother interjected, sending his older brother a glance. “Lord Liu Kang has his own reasons.”

The conversation ground to a halt, and you felt the temperature drop around you three by a few degrees.

You ignored it as you three arrived at the door of the room where Liu Kang was waiting. Best not to linger on that.

You all had a mission to get to, after all.

So this was California.

You marveled at how different the city around you was. The buildings were so different. Everything was different. You took in the atmosphere as you basked in the small amount of time you all had to stand around before you had to go.

Even though the area you teleported too was on the quieter side, the area around you was so much busier than it was anywhere you’ve recently been. So many lights, noises…it was so foreign. You were so in awe you even let Bi-Han scoff at your amazement without glaring at him.

“Is it possible for you to confirm the location?” Liu Kang inquired, after calling your name. You blinked as you stepped forward to look towards the fire god. You nodded, pointing to a large fancy home up ahead.

“That one, correct, Lord Liu Kang?” You asked, eying the place. You watched as the fire god nodded approvingly. Jumping and leaping into the air, your form turned smoothly into that one a crow and you flew close to the house.

You always enjoyed being a bird, feeling the wind in your feathers and the feeling of freedom it granted. Circling the house, you spotted how a wall was completely open, and you soared down towards that area, landing just behind the wall beside the pool. You noted the large floating plastic animals in the pool.

Interesting.

“Step one is selling this place.” A woman spoke. Curious, you tilted your head to peek barely in, seeing who you presumed to be Johnny Cage and a woman. Your head pulsed with the all too familiar headache as you peered at the man who paced inside the house.

Your mind granted you a vision of a similar looking Johnny Cage, so you knew you were in the right place.

Who was the woman though? You peered at her, vaguely listening in on the argument between the duo. You didn’t even bother to hide yourself all too well behind the wall at this rate, they were too deep in their conflict.

When you gazed at her, no sense of headache arose in your mind. You continued to eavesdrop, learning about the unfortunate circumstances befalling Johnny Cage and who you presumed was his wife with the conversation they were having. You nodded as the words they said confirmed your suspicions.

Cris…Wasn’t his wife supposed to be Sonya Blade?

Your head seemed to pound upon remembering that, and you winced. Sonya Blade…Sonya Blade… If only you had more time to interpret and unravel these memories when convenient, and not when you were on a mission!

Taking a mental note, you told yourself to write this down in your journal within the Fire Temple as soon as you got back.

Either way, you figured out that in this life, Johnny Cage was with a different woman.

You watched with a sense of pity as Cris walked out on Johnny…or John Carlton as you just learned. Although the man seemed distraught, you were surprised to see that he didn’t chase over his wife. You observed as he continued to drink, berating himself.

You felt guilty intruding on such a private moment.

Your guilt vanished as you watched a swordsman enter the house, dressed in a suit. Carefully, you backed up behind the wall, but you were sure he probably wouldn’t have even seen you. Even without the pulsing of your mind, you knew who this man was due to Liu Kang: Kenshi Takahashi. You watched the beginnings of their confrontation before backing up.

That’s all you needed to know.

With a quick flap of your wings, you got back into the air and flew back to the trio who were waiting right where you had left them. Landing on the ground, you stood up as you transformed back and no trace of the crow you had been was left.

“It’s the right location.” You began as you rolled your shoulders back, trying to bend your body back into shape. “Johnny Cage is confronting Kenshi Takahashi over a sword named Sento.” You informed Liu Kang, bowing as you told the fire god of what you had seen.

“As expected.” Liu Kang said before nodding, a smile on his face. You took that as praise as you stepped around to take your spot again at his right side. “Come, the confrontation will be over soon.” With a nod from the others, you all strode down the hill over to Johnny Cage’s house.

Without hesitation, Liu Kang rang the doorbell as the four of you arrived in front of the front door. You looked around, noting how the house looked from the front instead of the back. It was much, much different than what you had been used to in the Fire Temple.

Instinctively, you straightened your posture as you heard the door open. You stared forward at the perplexed face of Johnny Cage, holding back the amusement you wanted to let out. You had to look professional. Both of the Lin Kuei brothers stood behind you and Liu Kang.

“What in the actual fu-”

“Good evening, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang cut him off, his arms uncrossing as he bowed and introduced himself. Johnny recoiled at the action, looking confused as ever. “I am Liu Kang, protector of Earthrealm.” The fire god introduced himself, wasting no time. He gestured to the inside of the house. “May we enter?”

“Uh…” Johnny leaned over, peering at all of you suspiciously. “Nothing’s being shot here tonight. You sure you’re in the right place?” Johnny inquired, looking at all of you as if you were all crazy.

“Yes.” Liu Kang answered seriously, nodding. “We come here on a matter of grave importance. We must speak to you and your guest.”

“What?” Johnny seemed shocked at the mention of Kenshi, before squinting at the group in suspicion once more. He leaned close, dropping his voice to be closer to a whisper. “How do you know about him?”

“Because I am the God of Fire.” Liu Kang responded, his voice holding an authoritative tone. Despite this, Johnny seemed to brush it off. You raised your eyebrows, surprised to see how quickly the man fell into denial.

“Cris, you vixen. Nicely done.” You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. He thought his wife set him up for an odd prank. You looked away until he spoke up again. “Sure.” Johnny said, drawing out the word in such a way to make it obvious he didn’t believe a word of what Liu Kang had said. “Come on in.” And with that, he opened the door to welcome you all in. “Glowing eyes are a nice touch.”

You all entered the house, and you noted how it looked from this angle. Your eyes fell on the swordsman who was now tied to a chair next to the pool, and you were slightly surprised to see he had lost. You followed Liu Kang swiftly as you approached the tied up man.

“Kenshi Takahashi.” Liu Kang addressed the man. He stopped in front of Kenshi and crossed his arms in a disapproving way. “A tragic figure with a noble cause. Your actions this evening do you no credit.” Liu Kang even threw in a disapproving shake of his head.

“Who are these people?” Kenshi inquired, just as perplexed. You focused your eyes on the swordsman as the tiny voice in your head questioned how the man in front of you had his eyesight. It seemed that way, at least.

Past life. Right.

“You tell me, they’re your scene partners.” Johnny Cage answered back with a shrug, looking towards Liu Kang for an explanation.

“I also know of your struggles, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang spoke, turning his gaze to Johnny Cage. You nodded subconsciously, having witnessed the struggles Johnny had through the argument he had with Cris. “I am here to offer you both a path forward.”

“Dun. Dun. Dunnnn.” Johnny retorted dramatically, his carefree attitude shining through. He still didn’t believe the situation, and for a brief moment you recalled how this felt all too familiar. The actor let out a laugh, looking around. “C’mon guys. Let’s call this. Cris was a doll to set this up, but…” He shrugged as he scoffed. “As pranks go this one’s…eh…a bit obvious.”

“This is no prank.” Liu Kang warned Johnny. He looked at you and spoke your name before gesturing towards Kenshi. “If you please.” You nodded as you strode over to Kenshi’s chair and knelt behind him. You observed the rope. Normally, you would transform your hand into claws to free the man, but you did not want to risk hurting Kenshi, especially with how thick this rope was, it was better to untie it.

You set to work untying it. You struggled, noting how strong and tight the knots were. Did Johnny Cage have experience in typing people up? You grimaced as you continued to try and untie the rope. You were so concentrated on the task in front of you, Johnny’s words didn’t register in your head.

It wasn’t until he laid a hand on you until you noticed he had been talking to you.

Eyes wide open, you paused as you looked up in shock, your mind reeling as you tried to piece together whatever Johnny had been saying. His grip was strong, but it didn’t hurt. You were just confused at what he had been saying.

You had no time to do so as you watched Bi-Han shoulder tackle Johnny off of you before sending him flying with a heavy kick.

“Bi-Han!?” You exclaimed, surprised at the sudden action from the cryomancer. You were stunned as you watched Johnny groan as he had a glass fixture drop on him. The grandmaster did not turn around to look at you, but you watched as Kuai Liang stride up, sending you a concerned look before looking towards his brother.

You were surprised that Kuai Liang did not tell him off. For a moment, the two brothers sent each other an unreadable look as they got into a fighting stance against the now angry Johnny Cage. You paused in your actions to watch the fight happen, confused at how it escalated so much.

It had been an honest mistake on Johnny Cage’s part.

Somehow, the actor knocked down the brothers.

“I hope you’re insured, because you’re paying for my Hichuli.” Johnny huffed as he stared at the Lin Kuei duo who got up from the ground. You stood up, trying to speak up, but were cut off by Bi-Han’s outrage.

“Imbecile! You have no idea with whom you are dealing!” Bi-Han pointed towards Johnny Cage, seeming ready to go again and fight. You shook your head as you strode over to make Sub Zero calm down.

“Bi-Han-”

“ENOUGH!”

You jolted as you side stepped to avoid the burst of flames that emerged from Liu Kang. Loud beeping occurred for a second, and you winced at the noise. You sighed as you continued your walk over to Bi-Han, standing right next to him.

“Uh…” Johnny said, his eyes wide in disbelief as he had shielded away from the flame. “That’s no special effect.” He continued, and the look on his face told you that he was finally piecing things together.

“Indeed, Johnny Cage.” You could not see Liu Kang’s face right now, but the tone he held said enough about the frustrated look he was sending the actor. The god of fire inhaled and turned to you three. You held the god’s gaze as he examined you before looking towards Scorpion. “Kuai Liang?” He inquired, gesturing towards Kenshi.

You watched as the younger brother walked away to finish the job of freeing Kenshi. As Liu Kang spoke to Johnny and Kenshi, you sent a perplexed and slightly angry glare at Bi-Han. Why had he been so aggressive?

Yet, despite your glare, you didn’t think you were actually angry. Just mostly…confused.

Bi-Han, despite his knack for wanting staring contests with you, seemed very keen on ignoring your glare this time. You sighed as you looked away and focused on the conversation with Liu Kang.

“All will be explained, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang told Johnny Cage as Kenshi was untied and he got to stand up. “For now, what is important is that you both have been chosen to join its champions.” He said, now referring to both Johnny and Kenshi.

“Why him?” Johnny pointed at Kenshi in confusion. “Or me, for that matter?” He asked, turning to look at Liu Kang with a perplexed look.

“Because I have faith that you will rise to the challenge.” Liu Kang explains to the actor. “And because your service will change the arcs of your lives.” Liu Kang looked at the three of you and dismissed you all, allowing you to wait outside while he discussed the finer details with the two. Almost immediately, Bi-Han walked off, leaving you in the dust.

“I would advise to not take offense to his attitude.” Kuai Liang said as he stepped up to stand beside you. You sighed as you crossed your arms, looking towards the entrance. You shook your head as you looked towards the younger brother.

“I’m not offended.” You clarified as you searched Kuai Liang’s expression. “Just…confused why he would do that.” You also had confusion on why Kuai Liang would also help him take down the actor, but you would chalk that up to the brotherly bond the two had…even if it felt like it was waning nowadays.

Memories of two brothers, one corrupted and inky like a shadow, and the other an icy grandmaster flashed in your mind.

You closed your eyes as you tried to push out those memories. It’s been years since you’ve first had them about the Lin Kuei since you’ve met them so long ago, but when you worried over the two, you were always reminded,

Damn these memories.

“I see.” Scorpion said, and although his words seemed final you could sense the hesitant tone in his voice. It was strange, but you assumed it was due to Scorpion’s manners. He was never one to make unnecessary comments. You turned to look at Liu Kang, to try and focus in on the fire god’s words to get your mind off of things.

Still, you felt the gaze of Kuai Liang burn into you.

Thankfully, the protector of Earthrealm quickly wrapped things up with the new recruits. He turned around, and there was a faint look of surprise to see that both you and Scorpion remained inside the manor. Regardless, he nodded and smiled at the two of you before exiting with the both of you in tow.

Outside, Bi-Han had been waiting, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. His eyes were focused on the ground, and a furrow in his brow. He seemed deep in thought, but his demeanor quickly shifted as he heard the three of you approach. The cyromancer straightened up and came to attention, nodding.

“Excellent work, you three…even if there were some hiccups.” Liu Kang commended as you all followed him to the hill where he had initially teleported you three from. Liu Kang did not look towards Sub Zero, but you all knew who he had been referring to.

The walk back to the hill was silent. That wasn’t unusual, but the uneasy tension between the group certainly was. You held back a sigh as you continued to walk beside Liu Kang, trying to pretend like the source of the tension wasn’t you and Bi-Han.

You disliked this.

“You are all dismissed, thank you for your services.” Liu Kang thanked the three of you as you arrived back in the Fire Temple. Teleporting was always quick, and you were thankful for it. You nodded as you began to walk off. You needed to walk to clear your head.

It wasn’t long after you set off that you heard your name be called. Surprised, you turned around and stood still. You blinked as you watched Kuai Liang jog over to you, nodding as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Would you mind if I accompanied you?” The pyromancer inquired, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. While it was not uncommon that you had been on walks with the assassins before, it was odd to have it occur after a mission.

“Are you not going with Bi-Han back to the clan?” You inquired, crossing your arms as you shifted your weight to one leg. You scanned Kuai Liang’s face, searching for any sort of answer. He shook his head, and you were genuinely surprised.

“I asked brother if I were allowed to stay for a bit. He was fine with it.” Scorpion answered, and you hummed. Odd, but Kuai Liang was anything but a liar. You nodded, shrugging.

“Alright, I don’t see why not.” You said, curious why he had wanted to stay. Was it just to talk to you? That felt a little ridiculous, but you didn’t know what else it could be. A slight expression of relief settled on the assassin’s face as he moved to your side.

“Thank you.” He said, and you waved off the words. You didn’t see why he’d be thanking you for something so simple.

“Don’t mention it.” You said, and then the two of you walked off. You tried to not think about the odd scenario, but it ended up haunting you as you walked. You lasted about five minutes before you let out a sigh and turned to face Kuai Liang, arms crossing. “Okay, I’ll say it. Why are you here exactly? I’m not ungrateful for your presence, it’s just that I can tell that you came here for a reason.”

“You are perceptive as usual.” Scorpion praised, and you both accepted the compliment, but also wanted him to get to the point already. “I just wanted to see if you were feeling alright. I could sense you were upset with brother and…”

“While appreciated, you do not need to make up for your brother’s actions.” You said quickly, wanting to stop Kuai Liang from going on. You sighed, sending him a weary, but grateful smile. “Look, I know you are close with Bi-Han, but I don’t want our conversations to revolve around him. We’ve known each other for years, I consider you a friend, and I want to be able to talk to you, Kuai Liang, not Bi-Han’s brother.”

For the first time in perhaps forever, you saw a look of surprise on Kuai Liang’s face. With a moment of hesitation, he nodded. He put on a small smile, seeming genuinely grateful for your words.

“Alright, then let me, Kuai Liang, accompany you on this walk.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You grinned at him as you both set off on your walk. You walked on, feeling more relaxed and relieved now. Words were exchanged here and there, but with Kuai Liang, you didn’t really need words. The two of you could bask in a comforting silence together.

Still, the memories from earlier still flew around in your mind like an annoying fly. Sensing this, you noticed Kuai Liang’s concerned look.

“I’m fine.” You lied, a worried feeling filling your mind as you looked at the man who often haunted your memories. Your heart squeezed as you looked back ahead. As much as you wanted to confide in anyone, someone about your memories, you couldn’t. Or rather, you didn’t.

No one needs the burden of the memories that plague you. Of the knowledge of other “lives” they had lived, especially since you did not even know whether these visions were even memories themselves. You just assumed it, seeing as they all seemed to follow a life you once lived.

Even though you spent time pondering these visions with Liu Kang, you only did so in the most desperate times now. The fire god had no idea just how many more memories you had unlocked that he was unaware of. That whole dilemma leaves a guilty imprint on your soul.

Still, the honest and welcoming dark eyes of Kuai Liang was tempting. For a moment, you opened your mouth, wanting to confess how worried you were over the trio of brothers. How you knew of a world where they all were torn apart by death and corruption.

Of how he was the only one alive of the three of them by what you could remember.

You couldn’t though. That knowledge wasn’t fair. Plus, there was no way to explain anything well. You’d just seem like a hallucinating amnesiac, and you didn’t need one of your friends thinking of you that way.

“I’m just thinking about how Johnny and Kenshi will fare during training.” You continued to lie. Despite the momentary guilt, your mind did turn to the new topic with open arms. Ah, right, you were going to be in charge of their training. Or at least, somewhat. You still haven’t discussed that whole ordeal with Liu Kang yet.

You really had to get on that.

“I have a feeling the swordsman will be competent.” Kuai Liang mused, his head tilting to the side as he spoke aloud. “The actor, I fear, will be a challenge.” The yellow clad assassin confided in you, and you let out a small chuckle. “I have faith in you that you will be able to instruct them, regardless of the difficulty.”

“How is it that even when you’re insulting someone, you make it sound somewhat eloquent?” You inquired, grinning at the man. Though he did not have a grin that stretched from ear to ear, you could see the subtle smile on his lips. He seemed pleased with himself, and it was a sight you were blessed to see. “Thanks, still, I’m honored to have you think so highly of me.”

“There is no reason to think so, the high regard I have within you is rightfully earned.” Scorpion replied. You looked away, letting out another laugh, though this one was more bashful. Did this man know how he sounded? You couldn’t tell.

“Okay, okay, stop flattering me before I suspect that you want something from me.” You said, managing to find the words to respond to him after the high compliment he gave you, deciding to play off the warm feeling you got from all this as lighthearted. You felt outdone, not knowing how to make him feel the same way he made you feel after his praise.

“I hope you know I am serious about the praise I give you, but I shall relent.” Scorpion said, the serious tone he seemed to always have was prominent in his tone. You swallowed as you nodded. You knew. Kuai Liang was never one to play around, especially with the feelings of those close to him.

You wished he did though, just for this one moment, so you could pretend that the words he told you didn’t affect you as much as they did.

“You are too kind, Kuai Liang.” You murmur as you find yourself back at the Fire Temple. The walk had gone faster than expected. You supposed that’s what good company does. You watched as the Lin Kuei assassin stopped at the entrance, and for a moment you found yourself slightly saddened at this.

“I am only saying the truth.” He replied. For a moment, you saw him tense, as if considering something. Instead, he nodded as he stared at you with an expression you couldn’t quite understand. You opened your mouth, considering asking him what he was thinking, but thought better of it.

You weren’t certain if you could handle the answer.

“Goodnight, Kuai Liang.”

“Goodnight.” You smiled at the quaint way he spoke your name, and waved him off. You watched him walk off before turning around and walking to the area where you would usually watch the sunrise.

The moon hung high in the sky now, basking you in the moonlight. Your eyes closed as you took in everything that happened recently. Your fingers tapped along the wooden railing, tracing along the grain. The cool breeze passed you by. You had a lot to think about.

part four

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low-budget-korra · 2 months ago

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We need to talk about The Last of Us S2

Because what the actual fuck?

Let’s break it down, because there’s just too much bad stuff to talk about.

1 - What’s the theme of this second season?

In the game, everything revolves around revenge and obsession. In the show…? Ellie watched her father get brutally murdered, and not long after, she’s all like 😃😄 as if nothing ever happened.

All signs point to the Nora scene being in the next episode. But what build-up have they given the audience to buy into what Ellie is capable of doing? None. In the game, that scene marks the peak of Ellie’s loss of humanity. In the show, it could serve as the starting point—but unless you buy into that psychologist’s take that Ellie is a sadist who was born bad and is beyond saving—there’s no setup, no groundwork that justifies Ellie torturing and killing Nora. In the previous episode, Ellie acted like she was on a romantic road trip, not a vengeance-fueled journey.

And part of this is why...

2 - Bella Ramsey is NOT the Ellie from Part II

I know her fans will hate me for this, but it’s the truth. And based on some of her comments about last episode’s, it’s pretty clear she doesn’t understand Ellie’s arc this season and is still acting like it’s S1 Ellie.

“But game Ellie also cracks jokes”—yeah, she does. But there’s an aura of melancholy, sadness, and grief around her.

A classic example is the Take On Me scene, where Ellie sings more to herself than to Dina, her voice cracking at times, feeling the weight of the lyrics. Sure, it’s still a romantic moment, but Ellie is different. Her jokes, her interactions with Dina, they’re not the same as they were before Joel’s death. There’s a heavy sorrow surrounding her.It’s not something she says like, “Wow, I’m so sad,” or “Damn, I’m pissed.” It’s something you feel just by looking at her.

And Bella isn’t good at conveying those subtleties, because she’s not a physically expressive actress. In the show, the Take On Me was just a straightforward romantic scene—there was no emotional layering at all.

And if it’s going to be hard to buy Ellie suddenly torturing Nora, it’s largely because Bella—not only misunderstanding the character— but also simply can’t portray those subtle feelings of grief, melancholy, and growing obsession. And s2 Ellie needed an actress who would nail that. I hate to say it but Kaitlyn Dever and Cailee Speaney do this pretty well. Sophie Thatcher too, as she says a lot only with her expression in Heretic

Oh and this doesn't make Bella a bad actress, she still young and can grow and get better.

3 - The show has no continuity

Especially with Ellie. They forget the show’s own canon. At the start, Ellie still acts like a 14-year-old pre-David-trauma, even though by the S1 finale, she was already a changed person.

Then Joel dies—we see how that affects her. Only for the show to pretend right after that nothing happened and she’s totally fine.

"But it’s been three months”—it could be three years and she still wouldn’t be over what happened. Trauma—especially something as intense as what Ellie experienced—doesn’t just vanish overnight. And anyone who thinks it does is lucky enough to have never lived through anything like it.

4 - Tommy? Jesse?

Especially Tommy wtf. Okayz makes sense in the canon on the show but still, it sucks he's not in Seattle

5 - Sadly, this poor work is going to be rewarded

It’s HBO, after all. It’ll get a ton of nominations and probably win a bunch. Game of Thrones, for example, won an Emmy for Best Drama for its worst season. And it’s really depressing, because it sucks to see poorly executed work get celebrated.

#tlou #tlou2 #tlou hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #dina #tommy miller #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us season 2 #the last of us part 2

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bangpop91 · 2 months ago

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So even though no one asked I've decided to weigh in on the whose going to be the next captain of the 118 discourse because I have a lot of thoughts about it.

As a reminder we aren't going to know who is the captain until s9. Tim has sad as much in interviews. Everything that happens in the next two episodes is to build suspense and tension.

The way I see it, in terms of canon story telling there are three contenders for the position of captain of the 118.

Hen

Chimney

Buck

I say that because they are the three og 118 teammembers who have been there since s1.

Chimney:

Right out the gate we can eliminate Chimney.

Even though he was acting captain in s2 and as a one-off in s4 during the sniper arc in s6 he flat out said he didn't want to do it again.

He's also been very effectively set up to be the mentor figure. If we apply the concept of the Hero's Journey™️ to the 118 Chimney fills the role of mentor. He's the Gandalf, the Merlin. Think of the speech he gave Ravi in s6 and how it echoed the speech Eli gave him in Chimney Begins.

I think Chimney is going to have to have his own journey where he relearns to "hand it off".

Buck:

Buck is the next one to eliminate. He's starting to show his potential for leadership but he still isn't ready.

Once again using the hero's journey. Buck is at the beginning still. He's experienced the death of his father(figure) and now has to go through his journey that prepares him to ascend his father (figure)'s throne.

A great comparison is Carlos's journey from the season finale of s4 through out s5 of Lone Star.

I do think Buck will be the Captain of the 118 in a few years but not yet. He still has some life to live before he's ready.

Hen:

Point blank. I will be shocked and pissed if Hen isn't the captain. This is a plot thread that has been being set up since s6... Actually since Hen Begins. If suddenly Buck was captain instead of Hen it would have been like if Mateo had been promoted to captain over Judd at the end of lone star.

There is a reason the camera panned to Hen during Gerrard's speech about why he was back as interim captain.

It's my personal belief that Hen turning down the captaincy is the red herring. Its TPTB spinning time until s9 and lets the GA engage with the story and possible conflict of who is going to be the next captain. But it also gives the show a chance to let Hen explore her grief and confusion in the wake of Bobby's death.

Maybe this is me being delusional, but I don't think Captain is the end of Hen's journey. Ever since Hen begins I have genuinely believed that Hen's professional journey ends with her as the Chief of the LAFD. I have felt this way ever since she was told that she is the new face of the LAFD dring Hen begins.

Even from a production perspective I think Hen makes the most sense as Captain.

Let's say Eddie stays with the 118 at the end of s8.

With Hen promoted to Captain, Eddie can be shifted into Hen's former position of Paramedic and be Chimney's partner with Ravi shifted into Eddie's position as Buck's partner.

Now let's say Eddie also leaves at the end of s8

They don't need to worry about bringing in two new cast members. They have already laid the groundwork to move Ravi to a shift and be Buck's new partner. Then they can also bring in a probie to be the new paramedic. This allows us two new characters to explore, it opens up new stories for Chimney as well as Buck and Hen.

In my head this was a lot more articulate. But I've got a cluster migraine brewing and needed to get all this out of my head so I can focus on my other stuff.

#lauren rambles #911 abc #911 discourse #henrietta wilson #evan buckley #howard han

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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How do you decide how much of the mundane/obvious to include and what to skip over? Like, if plot point A is Monday night and point B is the next day, how much of waking up, etc, is too much? It feels strange if I don't describe it all but I don't want to clog my story

How Much Mundane/"Everyday" to Include in Story

Here's the thing... we all live in the world and function in it, to some degree or another, every single day. We understand all the mundane everyday things that go into existing, like waking up, taking a shower, brushing our teeth, doing our hair, getting dressed, etc. We don't need to have that described to us just because that time passed in your story.

If scene three ends at 9pm Monday night, and the important plot point of scene four begins at 2pm on Tuesday afternoon, we don't need to see anything that happens between 9pm Monday and 2pm Tuesday unless it's somehow critical to our understanding of what happens at 2pm. Even then, we may not need to actually "see" it... it could be something filled in via exposition or dialogue.

Ultimately, every scene should start close to the interesting thing that's going to happen in the scene. How far before that thing depends on what it is and what groundwork needs to be laid out ahead of time, but mundane life things are rarely part of that ground work. You might include it once in a while because it's showing what your character's home life is like, or your character is using that time to process what happened the night before. But before you include the mundane stuff, ask yourself what it's accomplishing. If you can take it out without hurting the reader's understanding of the plot, characters, or world, it doesn't need to be there. :)

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

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raincitygirl76 · 11 months ago

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I think what frustrated me most in season 3 about the August video plot being wrapped up in the first five minutes wasn’t that August was getting away with it, it was that S2 had specifically created a scenario where he couldn’t get away with it. It had laid groundwork for a plot in S3 that suddenly disappeared, with visible plot holes left behind.

In S1, I wasn’t surprised when August got away with filming and posting the video. Rich, well-connected sex offenders avoid prosecution and public exposure all the time. It felt unjust, particularly because the royal court were protecting a sex offender over his victim who was Kristina’s own child. But I understood exactly why Kristina and the royal court had made those choices, even though I didn’t like said choices. If the video plot had been left there, as it was at the end of 1.06, I wouldn’t have objected. August got away with it, of course he did. That’s just what happens.

But in season 2, the video plot gradually built to a crescendo where it became urgently relevant again and August seemed in genuine danger of prosecution and even prison (both Rickard and Rosh mentioned prison). We saw it from 2.01 onwards, when Wilhelm took every possible opportunity to inflict petty humiliations on August, since he’d been denied real justice.

We saw it in Marcus suddenly taking an interest in Simon. They’d obviously been acquaintances for years, with their moms being friends. And they’re two of the very few out gay boys in Bjardstad. But Marcus never approached Simon romantically until a few weeks after the video was released, and then he approached intensely.

We also saw the video plot building in 2.05 when Wilhelm finally revealed to Simon that August was the perpetrator, and Simon was furious Wilhelm had known this for so long and kept it to himself. Simon felt disgusted and betrayed that his fellow victim of the video had protected the perpetrator. And we saw the difference in attitude between Wilhelm and Simon. Wilhelm pragmatic and cynical, knowing the full machinery of the royal court would gear up to destroy Simon.

Simon determined to press charges and convinced he could somehow hold August to account in spite of the royal court. And the conflict where Simon directly accuses Wilhelm of keeping secrets claiming to protect him, but really protecting himself. And Wilhelm later echoes that accusation in the jubilee speech, although I’m getting ahead of myself.

As of 2.05, on my first watch back in November 2022, I still assumed August would continue to get away with it. August had money and influence, Simon had neither. I already knew how these things so often go in real life. Also, August had Sara, warning him in advance that Simon knew and was planning to press charges. As of the end of 2.05, Simon was planning to go to the police and Wilhelm was doing nothing to warn August or the royal court. I was compelled, but I was also distracted by the curtains scene.

At the beginning of 2.06, we saw August’s desperation, him reaching out to Jan-Olof, and Jan-Olof’s indifference. We could see August starting to panic like a rat in a trap, seeing long delayed justice approaching him. And then August invited Alexander into his room and made his proposal. The rat was no longer panicking, he was fighting back with every weapon at his disposal.

In 2.06, when August and Alexander met Wilhelm at the Society’s party venue, Wilhelm was the one panicking, August had his fear under control again. He used the full force of his personality, and of Alexander’s desire for revenge against Wilhelm, to assure Wilhelm that no matter what he and Simon did, August would slide away from the mess, reputation intact. And Simon would be the one in trouble with the police. A smug August wass back on top of the world, with his twin schemes to discredit Simon and blame Alexander whirring along beautifully.

And then we had the shooting range scene, where devastating secrets came out. In the aftermath, Simon accepted that he couldn’t seek justice from the police without implicating himself for the drugs. For the second time, August had gotten away with his crime. But I was full of questions anyway.

Had August overreached himself by admitting his crime to Alexander? Yeah, Alexander hated Wilhelm, but his arrangement with August wass built on mutual convenience, not loyalty to August. A big question mark for Season 3. Also, nobody at the royal court actually liked August, he was just next in line. If word got out to the media and the public that August was the perpetrator, Kristina & Co. would likely throw him overboard without a second thought.

So throughout 2.06, my mind was awhirl with possibilities. Yes, technically, August seemed to have gotten away with it for a second time, but the video plot had been building since 2.01. I was starting to wonder if August might actually go down for his crime finally. And then Sara pulled out her cell phone and called the police to report a crime, and I yelped so loudly at the TV I scared the cat.

Finally, the crucial payoff for six episodes of build-up. Finally, the police had been involved, and soon after them, I was sure the media would get wind of it. It seemed like the perfect climax to the season, setting up a riveting conflict for S3.

As of the end of 2.06, I wasn’t really expecting August to go to prison for the video, even though both Rosh and Rickard hinted that could happen (earlier in S2). But I was expecting August to be arrested, and probably even charged. I expected the royal court to interfere somewhere along the way and use behind the scenes influence to get the charges dropped. Probably as part of a quid pro quo with August whereby he’d take sole blame for the video. Thus protecting the royal court from the public finding out they had already known it was August.

But I was also expecting the media and the public to be all over August. Once the police were involved (and we’d seen Sara involve them), it seemed impossible to keep it quiet any longer. I was anticipating a scenario where August technically got away with it, but his precious reputation was ruined. And the public was repelled at the idea of making August Wilhelm’s backup. That seemed to be what Lisa was building towards throughout S2. She built up those expectations with every strand of plot laid out in S2.

And then S3 opened with a civil settlement, an NDA, and the police no longer interested. Meaning August had gotten away with it for a third time, even after all the building blocks from S2 that he had finally run out of ways to evade justice. And then it never got mentioned again. Neither was Arnas mentioned, which August presumably had to sell to pay off Simon and Wilhelm.

It all just went away in the first five minutes. All that buildup from S2, wasted. So that is why I disliked the settlement story. Because Lisa spent all of S2 telling one story, then suddenly changed her mind after she’d already laid out all the ground work, reversed, and decided to tell a completely different, much less interesting story.

#young royals #wilmon #sex tape young royals #yr s2 criticism #yr s3 criticism #august horn of årnäs #August horn

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youcouldmakealife · 4 months ago

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Ok so we will be having a COTT March (I love those guys) and then some April Fools in late April....can I dare hope that we will be seeing some Georgie and/or Robbie too in the near future? (Forever and Always in Tandem (FAIT) maybe?) I'm honestly dying to hear about the modernists Taylor!!

You're pretty dead on. With the biggest of caveats one must give, especially when they're me, here's what the rest of the year is looking like.

It's the Official Schedule as of very recently, since I had to re-jig the whole thing to cram in 16 physio sessions, and I want to be transparent with you guys because it is different from what I initially planned, particularly that I lowered my minimum writing goal to 200k, about an 10% decrease, with all other writing goals reflecting that, and changed some timelines as well.

So, here's what's happening in 2025:

Previously, in 2025:

Jan - Wrapping SAIT, Big Annual Planning that lasts One Month.

Feb - Was supposed to be a get ahead month, but I dealt with a lot of healthcare stuff in Jan and Feb, including some time consuming testing. Add in the whole 'my country's sovereignty is apparently now in question' (I cannot overstate, to those who aren't in Canada, that everything I have seen and heard in recent weeks has strongly indicated that the relationship America has had with Canada is now over. We did our mourning and lamenting over the last few months, mostly amongst ourselves -- though great fucking timing with that international tourney, NHL -- and now it's the clear-eyed stone-faced acceptance of reality, unhinged as it is. Glad to see Europe seems to be doing the same.)

Ahem, sorry, there's been some processing going on for me this year, but processing is hard given that we're living in the stupidest fucking dystopia (Red-White-and-Blueland. I can't. This motherfucker. I can't.) and any attempts to get ahead have just lead to treading water. Thus the big re-jig that follows below.

What's still yet to come, 2025:

Mar - That's now! More healthcare stuff this month (fuck long COVID, seriously), including physio, but also trying to ACTUALLY get ahead now that I've lowered some of my expectations for this year (aiming for around 40-ish rather than 50-ish AO3 updates in 2025 is massive, workload wise) and doing a lot of the groundwork for Kickstarter, ie: setting up the campaign, financial work, etc.

April - I hopefully graduate from physio plus the real run up to my April Fools, which will be in late April and carry through to late May. We've got ourselves a Taurus. (Two, actually!)

May - main Kickstarter month! That will be like 75% of my job, the other 25% making sure everything else comes out on time.

June-July: These are head down writing months. With little to no hockey (early June has the SCF, and if my team's in them this is all null and void but that is...exceedingly unlikely this year), my schedule's wide open and I'm going to be working to get ahead on, well -- everything.

This is also when I plan on beginning to post the third part of the Tandem (which does have a title, though I figure I'll give it a better announcement than in the middle of an impromptu calendar).

Aug - I'm taking a week off at the start to do absolutely nothing, and then I'm making sure I've sorted out all my bits and bobs before I fly to England for my cousin's wedding (to a Brit, thus the locale). I've never been, so I've turned it into a proper little sightseeing trip as well.

September - I'm still in England (there 2 weeks total), as I'm spending a week by the sea for an Official Writing Trip. There will be scribbling in notebooks in cafes and drizzly walks along the shore and it won't be the right ocean but I don't think Gabe and Stephen would mind me starting it there.

Then I come home and do more writing, but the kind that doesn't look as cool in a montage.

This is when the Kickstarter extras will begin to go out, along with the beginning of the progress updates.

Oct-Dec: My season status quo, with the usual half work in December, while I make time for family and attempt to wrap as many in progress things as possible.

Basically, on AO3:

Jan - SAIT

Feb, Mar, Apr, May - COTT

June-Dec: COTT and ( )AIT, generally alternating 1-2-1-2, with the usual exceptions.

Kickstarter specific:

Now to Late April - prep, setup, promo, etc

Apr-May: Kickstarter Campaign

June/July: get started on admin, logistics, and begin work on the extras

Aug: Extras begin

Sep: Heads down work on the Kickstarter project (currently titled AF), continuing through remainder of 2025 and into 2026

#writing stuff

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vryfmi · 8 months ago

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there's one major thing that's been nagging on me about l&co adaptation ever since my first watch: if we were to get season 2, how would they set up the conflict of THB?

i can get behind some of reinterpretation of characters and their mannerisms, character traits (i.e. Lockwood dressing less formal and not being a know-it-all, Lucy being less hateful towards George, seeing Kipps as he's actively losing his talent, George Karim being iranian and being very close to his culture in a form of cuisine), some are good, as a fan of books i'd be eager to get to know these characters along side their book counterparts.

but alas, i can't see these characters as the same characters in both medias because too much of their characterisation was changed, and it's really hard to blame on pacing or the lack of screen time. it's the writing. some changes going as far as making me question, what were they supposed to do with this groundwork in the second season.

how would runners set up a conflict of L&Co overworking themselves after gaining fame over solving the bone glass case and accepting all calls they were getting, if show!Lockwood out right says in episode 4 that he's not interested in boring cases? not only does it get rid off of a major characterisation of Lockwood as someone who's, yes, in it for fame, but most importantly he became an agent to "avenge" his family. avenge isn't even the right word, i think. he doesn't want others to be fallen victims to a visitor, doesn't want to see other people lose their loved ones, lose their family to ghosts. not only does it make show!Lockwood rather vain and only fame driven, instead of someone dealing with deep personal trauma, but also loses one of the key points of Holly's introduction to the team. (i also love the reading of LW naming his agency Lockwood&Co as something less selfish and more about him paying a tribute to his family, that without them and visitors taking them away from him, he wouldn't start his agency and wouldn't be able to help other people.)

speaking of Holly's introduction, what exactly would have been her role at the start in the show? L&Co don't seem overworked from the 4 cases they had (2 related to TSS out of 4 in the book, Wimbledon gallows + Bickerstaff's, not counting Wilberforce's ghost and a bunch of not mentioned in dialogue cases i. e. Mrs Barrett's tomb). that already solves the problem of trio not having free time to do chores around the house. but say show says "and now they're overworked" instead of showing, sure, but it doesn't get rid of George's stress cleaning habit.

Holly was introduced as a help, as a support to the way L&Co was already running and over the books she became more than just an assistant but a beloved part of the team. without proper reasoning as to why Lockwood & Co had to get an assistant, Holly's introduction could be messy and unprompted, something like checking a box in the list of what has to happen instead of making it story driven. something like what happened to skull's character.

and a final thing that im iffy about is the ending of the first season. somehow show rushed through and speedran Lockwood's suicidal arc as well as managed to call it out by the end of show's TWS storyline, where books didn't show any progress even by the end of TEG.

but im saying call it out, not resolve. i'd actually appreciate it if show made an effort of showing that such tendencies and lack of self-preservation aren't just resolved in a second, someone saying "stop being suicidal" doesn't magically fix everything. and yet, show still speedran things, especially given that events of the show happen in only 10 days instead of a year, and Lockwood's already made very aware of his reckless behaviour aka throwing himself in danger for people, and, what's even more questionable, for people he barely knows. which, again, contradicts his character and the way he navigates trauma.

these character and plot deviations and inconsistencies may not seem critical at first, but they might build over the course of the series and lead to a complete shift in overall narrative and spirit of L&Co as a story. which i wouldn't want to see as a fan.

to put it simply, i can see why fans want for show to be picked up for a second season, but i can't see how writers could make it coherent because they wrote themselves into a corner.

#if someone has something to add please feel free to do so!#l&co #lockwood and co #l&co. netflix #anthony lockwood #holly munro #the hollow boy #complete fiction #analysis #blogposting

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mariacallous · 1 year ago

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An air raid alert has just started when Victoria Itskovych joins a Zoom call from Kyiv. “It’s, like, a usual situation,” she says. “But really, it’s not usual.” February 24 will mark the second anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. For nearly two years now, Kyiv has been under bombardment. Some weeks, people have to trudge to their shelters night after night, checking text alerts and Telegram channels to figure out where the missiles are falling and when it’s safe to come out—although, it’s never really safe.

That relentless stress, and the trauma of losing family, friends, and colleagues on the front, has taken its toll. A poll by the city government last year found that 80 percent of residents reported symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has exposed the whole of Ukrainian society to battle shock. “We’ve all suffered from this,” says Itskovych, who is director of the Kyiv City Council’s IT department. “Almost every person has somebody who was injured or died during the war, or lost their home or lost their health.”

In the face of such widespread injury, the Kyiv government has turned to Ukraine’s now-famous civic tech infrastructure for help. As the war enters its third year, the municipal government is starting to build a citywide system for providing mental health support to citizens. It’s a vast challenge, but also a unique opportunity—the first time that such a mass-trauma event has happened to a society that has already built the tools of digital government. Dealing with the mental health impacts of the invasion will be absolutely vital to keep society resilient, functioning, and committed enough to repel the invaders. It’s also the key to Ukraine’s postwar recovery, laying the groundwork now for a society that can rebuild itself physically and psychologically from the horrors of war. “This is the future of our society,” Itskovych says. “We are building the basis for the resilience of the community itself.”

At the heart of the plan is the Kyiv government’s digital platform, Kyiv Digital, which it launched in 2017. Before the invasion, it was largely used to manage parking and public transport, and to notify residents of disruptions to services such as road closures or power outages. When the war began, those notifications became more urgent: incoming attacks, the locations of bomb shelters, and the safest routes to reach them. Like other parts of Ukraine’s civilian technology, the city pivoted its tools to keep people safe and support the war effort, bootstrapping and rewiring the systems at pace.

“The first changes to the notifications we did in hours,” says Oleg Polovynko, adviser on digitalization to Kyiv’s mayor. Since then, the digital teams have been engaged in a constant cycle of innovation, trying to figure out what services they can bring online. The war has pushed them to act more quickly, to adapt tools they have and invent things that don’t exist.

They’ve expanded tools for civic participation, letting citizens vote on petitions, send feedback to the city government, and ask for help, such as financial support to repair bomb-damaged homes. And they’ve collected a lot of data, which is how the Kyiv government has been able to measure the scale of the city’s distress—and people’s reluctance to seek help. Of the 80 percent of residents who show signs of trauma, “40 to 45 percent are afraid to have contact with doctors who can help,” Polovynko says.

But this is only half of the problem that needs solving. For those who do want to seek treatment, there simply aren’t enough resources to help them. Clinical psychologists are supposed to limit the number of patient consultations they do in a day, so they don’t burn out. Before the full-scale invasion, Inna Davydenko saw a maximum of four patients daily. Today, Davydenko, a mental health specialist at the City Center of Neurorehabilitation in Kyiv, sees twice that number. When we speak, she’s just finished a video call with a soldier stationed near the front, whom she’s helping cope with stress and anxiety.

Even before the war massively increased the number of people dealing with trauma, depression, and anxiety, Ukraine’s medical system suffered from an underinvestment in mental health provision. “In most hospitals, you have maybe one psychologist. In good hospitals, it’s maybe two,” Davydenko says. “A lot of people need psychological help, but we can’t cover everything.” There is simply no way that the current system can grow to match the enormous jump in demand. But, Davydenko says, “almost every Ukrainian person has a smartphone.”

This is exactly what Polovynko and Itskovych want to exploit, using Kyiv Digital’s platforms and data to digitize mental health support for the city, and so close the gap between need and resources. Their project will focus first on those they’ve identified as being most vulnerable—war veterans and children—and those most able to help others: teachers and parents. The next six months of the project will be a “discovery stage,” Polovynko says. “We need to understand the real life of our veterans now, of the children, of the parents, what’s their context, how they survive, what services they use.”

The project will track people through the process of recovering from trauma, monitoring the treatments they ask for and the ones they receive, their concerns as they move through the mental health system, and their outcomes. Once the team has a detailed map of services and bottlenecks, and data on what’s working and what’s not, they can match individual needs with treatments. A full roll-out is scheduled for early 2025.

“It doesn't mean that the whole chain of the service will be absolutely digital,” Itskovych says. Some patients may be directed to group therapy or one-on-one meetings with psychologists, others will be given access to online tools. The aim, she says, is to create efficiency, to close the service gap, but also to provide comfort, meeting people where they are. “For a big part of our clients, there is more comfort with getting the service online, in different ways. Some people are not comfortable meeting a specialist one-on-one; they prefer a digital way to get the service.”

The project is being supported financially and operationally by Bloomberg Philanthropies, a charitable organization created by former New York mayor and Bloomberg founder Michael Bloomberg. James Anderson, head of government innovation at the organization, says that the project comes at a critical time for Kyiv, where people continue to suffer even though global attention has shifted away to other crises.

“There's always a tremendous amount of attention when the immediate crisis hits,” Anderson says. “But mayors continue to have to deal with the human costs of crises, long after the newspapers have turned to new subjects. That’s certainly what we sense and see in Kyiv.”

The size of the challenge in Kyiv is clearly daunting. But, Anderson says, there are reasons for optimism. Cities have got better over the past two decades at responding to common crises, such as Covid-19, which also required rapid, mass digitization of services. “Every crisis is distinct and different, and awful, in its own way,” Anderson says, “but there are lessons learned.” The Kyiv government, and Ukrainian society more widely, have demonstrated a capacity for rapid innovation to meet urgent needs, and Anderson hopes that success in this project could see it replicated internationally. “This is not the last war. This is not the last crisis,” he says. “I think Kyiv has lessons that they can share with cities around the globe.”

For Kyiv, and Ukraine, the crisis won’t end when the war does. “Psychological health is the number one problem for Ukraine,” Davydenko says, before correcting herself. “Number one is Russia, number two is our psychological health,” she says. “PTSD is our future.”

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akhuna01 · 1 month ago

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Look who's on her way to finally become a riding horse 🥰

If you want to read why I'm so happy with her i'll put it under a cut.

I've had Talisi for 10 years now, she's 12 years old.

She has a handicap, which doesn't bother her at all but needs regular checks and lots of physio therapy/ground work, so riding was never a prioruty when I got her. I just wanted a companion, and she's doing that so well ♥️ i love her with all my heart.

I knew from the beginning that i'd never send her away to be broken in, i wanted to do it 'our way', if at all. She's very cooperative with me, and we have our own understanding, but she's never been an easy horse for other people. A very dominant mare, and also very intelligent, which can be a real challenge.

So i started training her twice, once when she was rising 5 and once when she was 8, but by some coincidence BOTH times, just as I had sat on her for the first time after months of groundwork and working on her musculature , i was diagnosed with cancer.

TWICE.

SO I guess it's no wonder that i've developed a trauma, even if Talisi has ALWAYS been a total saint and an angel and nothing but sweet and eager to learn.

But for the past 4 years, after i'd sorta recovered from surgeries and chemo therapy, I was so scared of getting back on her that i honestly almost vomited the first time I stood on the mounting block beside her.

Talisi even LEANED TOWARDS ME to encourage me, but I just couldn't do it.

So. I present you pictures from the past 3 weeks ♥️

First time - i was so, so shaky and terrified, but by god Talisi stood like a champion and took a treat from my hand, too. At that day I only got on once, but the girl who takes care of her when I'm not around hopped on and I led them to walk a calm little round in the arena. Very very great experience for everybody, Talisi was SO proud of herself, it was so cute!

The second time! It still took me several minutes to gear myself up to put the foot in the stirrup and sit up, but hey! We walked together! My fear is almost gone ♥️

All thanks to the best therapist in the world ♥️

In the meantime I've had Sara ride on her on the lunge line several times, Talisi is doing awesome and we're learning (slowly) what the cues mean. So far she starts to understand yealding to make the circle larger, but, funnily enough, she doesn't yet understand how to walk on without being led yet. Bless her. Just understanding that pressing the heels into her side is asking her to take the first step forward is so puzzling to her, but she's TRYING. I'm immensely proud. Once you got her going she's good, chewing and snorting with her ears forward and a happy face. She trots easily and pretty fluidly, and today she even cantered on cue for a few steps.

Incredible 🥰

We're only 'riding' her for 15-20 Minutes every couple of days, she mainly does groundwork, poles and liberty inbetween. But the amount of stuff that's happened in these few weeks is amazing. It's so fun, and Talisi actually enjoys herself.

#horses #my horse #talisi #my story #my riding story #knabstrupper #trauma talk

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bluebellwrenwrites · 7 days ago

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— The Numbers Game [Black Ops Novelization]: Chapter One - "Operation 40"

RATING: M | AO3 LINK | CHAPTER MASTERLIST

SYNOPSIS

During the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961, CIA field officers Alex Mason, Frank Woods, Russell Adler, and Joseph Bowman were tasked with assassinating Castro as part of a team codenamed Operation 40. Instead, they found a body double and intelligence reports speaking of a mysterious Soviet operative trying to split off from the KGB. During their escape, Mason would sacrifice himself to ensure the others could get away, falling into the hands of rogue operatives reporting to the enigmatic man that would come to be known as 'Perseus'. Two years later, he manages escape from the Vorkuta prison camp and return to the States, only to be plagued with near constant migraines, seizures, hallucinations, blackouts, and numbers he can't stop hearing. As tensions rise in Vietnam and his life falls apart back home, Mason is assigned to a MACV-SOG team to track down Soviet operatives and suspected collaborators of Perseus aiding the Viet Cong. He and the CIA are working to prevent the Cold War from heating up, the KGB is hunting down loose ends, and Perseus is laying the groundwork for his plans. Unbeknownst to Mason, he's become Perseus' greatest weapon against his own country. And the key to saving it.

CATEGORIES: Gen, F/M

WORD COUNT: 12.1k

WARNINGS

Canon-typical violence, explicit language, military inaccuracies/liberties, government inaccuracies, period typical attitudes towards mental health and—to a much, much lesser extent because I'm a woman and it upsets me—women, some historical inaccuracies/liberties, depictions of brainwashing and torture, depictions of warfare, and a healthy dose of canon non-compliance and original characters (however rest assured the author has played the CoD campaigns multiple times. An unhealthy amount, in fact. I know the lore before I break it or whatever the heck.)

CHAPTER SUMMARY

It's April 17th, 1961. Mason is assigned to the assassination team sent to assassinate Castro while the Bay of Pigs invasion kicks off on the other end of the country. In their hunt for Castro, they make two different discoveries instead. It all goes downhill from there.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

So, I apologize in advance for the Google Translate Spanish. It is probably nothing like actual Cuban Spanish, but I'm unfortunately not familiar enough with that particular dialect of Spanish or Spanish in general to change words up, but I did my best with what I had. I tried to find a translator online that would let me choose dialects, but if such a thing exists it evades me, so...I can't say I didn't try, but if you're a native speaker and it seems off I sincerely apologize. Additionally, none of the locations in the game make sense. The devs have a really bad habit of just making terrain up and the location they give made no sense for the area they portrayed, so I tried to change it to something at least slightly more plausible. But I am not especially familiar with Cuba outside of google maps and Wikipedia. Side note: I've adjusted some of the character ages, as you'll see here, because goodness their canon ages make them really freaking old and for my own peace of mind with my fanfic timeline I tweaked it a few years (with his canon birthdate Mason would have been around 46-47 when David was born around 1978-1979 and I just didn't like that.) Also, Adler canonically didn't join the Special Activities Division until 1966 but I decided it's more fun to have him be around from the start. Anyways. Mission chapter! I tried my best not to drag it on too long while still keeping it intense and interesting without just writing everything that happened in the game word for word, here's hoping I succeeded.

APRIL 17, 1961 Near Santa Marta, Cuba

The weather in Cuba was a far cry from the dry cold of Alaska and the desert heat of San Diego. It was the most muggy, miserable place Alex ever set foot. To everyone else it was a tropical paradise, but to him it was hell on earth. The heat and humidity was probably a lot more tolerable if you were at the beach or had a pool to jump into…but while there was a beach party of sorts planned for later that morning, Alex wasn’t invited to it. Instead, he made his way through the streets of Cuba, following close to his teammates.

The curfew in place left the streets mostly deserted, and he and his teammates were unbothered as they briskly made their way to their rendezvous point with their contact, doing everything they could to stay out of sight and keep a low profile. However, judging from the few people peering out from windows and lurking in alleyways, the police were already onto them. None of that was about to stop them, though. They had a mission and they were going to complete it.

It was Alex’s first official operation since the CIA recruited him out of basic. His father had been damn near moved to tears when he’d asked the old man to sign off for him to enlist in the Marines, and from there he’d been shipped down to San Diego for his basic training and earned a reputation for being something of a sharpshooter…he had years of hunting elk and deer with his father to thank for that. Apparently he made enough of an impact for the CIA’s recruiters to notice him. To say his father was cagey about that was an understatement. He’d never been a man of many words, but he sent a stern letter Alex’s way after the CIA traveled out to Fairbanks to interview family, friends, other relatives, teachers…just about everyone in his life as part of his background check, and after that Alex didn’t see a single letter from the guy for two weeks. But by then he was already on his way to “The Farm” all the way in Virginia for his training.

So here he was…two months shy of his twenty-first birthday. He was young, inexperienced, and apparently a perfect addition to their motley crew. The other three weren’t that much older than him, after all—in fact Bowman was a few months younger than him—and they all had varying degrees of experience.

The veteran of the bunch and their team leader was Woods. He had a service record that started in the Korean War, and he’d been with the CIA for about seven years now. He was tall, built like a truck, had dark brown hair he almost never seemed to comb, and he completed the tough guy look with a beard and several tattoos. He was the one with all of the crazy ideas and he was just lucky he was crazy enough to pull them off. Loud-mouthed, foul-mouthed, and about as bold and in-your-face as a person could get…but he wasn’t the kind of guy to make friends easy. Preferred to go it on his own, but he somehow kept getting put in charge of this kind of stuff. Alex had no idea why Woods had adopted him as his new best friend not long after they met, but his best guess was their shared history with the Corps; the devil dog and his Semper Fi tattoos were the some of the first things Alex noticed about him…they must have hit it off from there. They’d been nearly inseparable since, and they weren’t that far apart in age; the record said Woods was thirty-one, but Woods himself told Alex that the record was bullshit. He’d ran away, lied about his age to join the military when the Korean War broke out, and the military didn’t bother checking twice. The CIA probably knew, but if they did, they didn’t care.

The next in line with age and experience was Russell Adler, even though he only had two years on Woods’ seven as far as military experience went. He was about what you’d expect from a Californian pretty boy. Light brown hair he kept meticulously combed, a soft sort of face that was always clean shaven (Alex had a sneaking suspicion he couldn’t grow peach fuzz if he tried), and a knack for trendy fashion. Not to mention his obsession with a pair of aviator sunglasses. Compared to the rest of them he looked like a catalogue model. He was charismatic, silver-tongued, good at making friends but even better at keeping his cards close to his chest…you never knew what he was thinking or planning. He was everything the CIA coveted, and basically the antithesis of Woods. He reminded Alex of an eagle; always puzzling everything out, weighing every single choice and action, waiting for the perfect moment to go in for the kill. And he must have been damn good at it, too, considering he hadn’t been a Green Beret long before the CIA recruited him to the Special Activities Division.

Last but not least there was Bowman. He and Alex had met during their training. He was a Southerner, apparently from some town an hour or so from Atlanta, but Alex couldn’t remember the name if he tried. He was ex-Navy, shorter and stockier than the rest of them, with dark skin and dark eyes. He didn’t talk much, but when he didit was pretty clear he was smart as a whip, not to mention one of the friendliest guys you would ever meet. He’d been an underwater demolitions expert in the Navy, but he didn’t talk a lot about his career before the CIA recruited him. But just like the rest of them, he must have done something impressive.

The CIA had been hesitant to assign both of them to a team when they were still green and wet behind the ears, but their skills made up for their lack of experience. Somehow, even though this was their first time in another country, they managed to keep their shit together. Even with the amount of adrenaline and anticipation that had Alex itching and chomping at the bit. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t overwhelmed by the environment and the situation as a whole, but he couldn’t let it get the best of him. Not when all of their lives were on the line just going to meet their contact.

Around them, the streets were more or less deserted. Cars were parked outside buildings, and the odd dog could be heard barking or howling, but for the most part things were quiet. The sky was only just starting to turn a lighter shade of blue and only a few stars were visible…even fewer than there already were with the glow from the streetlights. It was completely different than what he was used to at home, in Fairbanks. Even on the outskirts of town you could still see twice as many stars as you could anywhere else. Moving to the DC area had given him whiplash, not just culturally but even environmentally. It was like an entirely different world. In fact, everywhere he’d gone lately had been like an entirely different planet. Cuba was lucky enough to shoot right up to the top of the list.

As out of place as they were, the four of them went completely unnoticed as they made their way through the streets.

Woods was the first one to break the silence as they turned down another mostly deserted street. “Not much of a vacation spot,” he said, barely above a whisper, his voice rough. “This place is dead as hell.”

“It’s five in the morning and there’s a curfew,” Adler responded flatly, glancing over at him. “No one in their right mind would risk getting caught out and about like this.”

“What does that make us, then?” Alex asked.

“Outta our damn minds, that’s what,” Bowman said, letting out a short, deep huff of a laugh.

“Well, if we pull this op off then I’m sure it’ll turn into a real tropical paradise,” Adler said, once again flatly, more focused on his job than jokes. “Are we getting close, Woods?”

“Yeah. Just across here,” Woods replied, glancing every direction before he nodded to a building across the street. The four moved to cross the road, but Woods stopped short and fixed his eyes on something down the street. “Shit.” All of them stopped and turned, confused, only to follow his stare to two armed figures a few doors down the street. They noticed they were being watched, and one moved towards their group before his companion stopped him. “Grade-A a-holes, nine o’clock. Looks like they’re makin’ the morning rounds…doesn’t give us a lotta time...”

“Then we’d better hurry,” Adler said, picking up his pace as he headed across the street. The rest of them fell in step behind them.

The little city they’d ended up in was where their contact had fled after being run off his property. They were on the outskirts of a small city along the coast, and ordinarily it was a kind enough town towards outsiders. Just not towards Americans. With the two countries at odds, travel was restricted. Americans were unwelcome, and that was assuming that they wanted to be there in the first place. And the only reason they were there was to assassinate Fidel Castro, which put them right at the top of the no-fly list.

Castro been getting too cozy with the Soviet Union, and the powers that be wanted him out. Alex grew up with Russia for a nextdoor neighbor, so the Cold War and the threat of an invasion was personal to him, and he was more than willing to cut off as many of their allies as they told him to. So if they wanted Castro dead, he did too.

Unfortunately, the police knew someone had been selling them out and helping the people collaborating with the CIA, and their contact, Carlos, had already told them that they were onto him. A curfew had been enforced, and unpredictable searches had started. Luckily for them, it seemed the cops had other suspects, so they’d have a few minutes before they started banging down Carlos’ door. At least, Alex hoped they did. He took one last look over his shoulder as they crossed the street to the bar, holding the door open for the others to go through while he made sure they were in the clear. Once he was sure they hadn’t been noticed yet he ducked in after the others.

Inside, he was immediately met with the stench of cigarette smoke and liquor. A ceiling fan slowly turned overhead, but it wasn’t doing a whole lot to fix the heat and humidity.

It was more crowded than he expected. A few guys sat huddled a table, playing poker, their cigars burning down to stubs, two of them completely passed out beside the other three. A woman in a red floral dress and cheap jewelry hung on one of the younger guys’ arms, seemingly pleading with him for something in a pouty, unserious manner, slurring out some words in Spanish. Her boyfriend grumbled dismissively and waved a hand. She huffed and pulled away, hopping to her feet and stomping over to the portable radio propped up on the windowsill beside their table, where she switched the channel and turned it up, prompting some complaints from the men. She ignored them. Alex didn’t know a lot of Spanish, but he guessed she must have been begging her boyfriend to dance, because she whisked the radio out of reach, set it on a vacant table by the door, and gave them a drunken smile before tossing a pointed look at the curious men she was with as she began to literally dance circles around the four of them as they walked in.

Adler shrugged her off when she brushed his arm, dead set on their operation. Like a dog set on a scent. She didn’t even give Woods or Alex a second look as they marched by, both giving her a once over. She was pretty. Short black hair, brown eyes, an okay figure…but they weren’t here to mingle with the locals. As she grabbed Bowman’s hand and pulled him towards her, apparently inviting him to dance even though neither he or Alex knew what he was saying, he awkwardly declined. “Uh…I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t,” he said with an awkward smile, delicately pulling his hand away from hers. She gave him a confused look. “I’ve got a girl back home.”

She said something in Spanish, but once he walked away her disappointment pretty much disappeared. With one last look after them, she went back to her solo dance routine.

Woods and Adler led the way to the bar, and the bartender had already tossed the rag he’d been using to wipe out some glasses over his shoulder, waiting for them with his arms braced on the bar. He gave them a tight lipped smile, glancing at the poker table behind them and then at the door as he shifted from one foot to the other. He looked nervous, polite…his hair was combed back, but he had a scruffy beard that made him look less put together. He locked eyes with Woods, greeting him in Spanish. Alex only knew enough basic Spanish to catch the first part. “Good morning,” he said, sounding tired. “Es un poco pronto para beber.”

“Necesitamos algo más fuerte que el café,” Woods responded in a gruff tone. It sounded legit to Alex, but one of the guys playing poker turned his head. He let out a sigh, leaning over the bar. “Nosotros estamos en un largo día.”

“Oh, sí. Sé todo sobre eso,” the bartender—who Alex assumed could only be Carlos—said with a chuckle as he reached under the bar. “¿Qué puedo conseguirte?”

“Lo mejor que tienes,” Woods said. He lowered his voice as he added in English, “How’s it goin,’ Carlos?”

“He visto días mejores,” Carlos replied.

“Heh. Ain’t we all?” Woods asked, though Alex guessed the question was rhetorical.

“Though I hardly want to jinx things, it could always be worse,” Carlos said, this time in English as smooth as his Spanish. He also kept his voice low. He nodded to Adler and Woods, glancing briefly at Alex and Bowman. “It’s been awhile, Woods. Adler. I was starting to think you’d been arrested.”

“Yeah, well, the police are gonna be here soon, so we ain’t gotta lot of time to catch up,” Woods said. All of them looked to the door as a siren wailed in the distance, no doubt an extra set of officers being called in. Perfect timing. He jerked his head over his shoulder. As he talked, he casually pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his shirt, pulling one out and lighting it as he casually continued, “They’re making their way down the block.”

“Sí. They’ve been increasing patrols recently,” Carlos said with a tired sigh and a nod of his head. “Though your presence here proves that their paranoia is not exactly…unfounded.”

“You get us what we need?” Adler asked, shaking his head and refusing a cigarette from Woods. He pulled out his own pack—a very expensive brand at that—and took the lighter Woods offered him, taking a drag and blowing it out slow.

Carlos nodded slowly, taking a breath as if steeling himself. Alex was no mind reader, but it looked like he was more than a little nervous about this whole thing. He didn’t exactly look like he had the stomach for revolution, but the people here were desperate for a change. A lot of them had been exiled, had their families imprisoned, had their lives become nothing but pawns to their government, and if they didn’t succeed here today then it could cost them their lives. Alex would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, too. But more than anything he was antsy. Itching for a fight. They’d all been training for this long enough.

The bartender produced a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, and he slid it out to Woods and Adler. “He’ll be here, at an old plantation,” he said, tapping his index finger on the paper. It was a crudely drawn map, with some hastily scribbled words in Spanish, with arrows and circles to mark routes, points of entry, and the like. He tapped the far end of the map. “Our attack on the airfield should distract them enough for you to get inside. Your point of entry will be here, ¿ves? He will likely be in one of these main rooms, upstairs…he’s turned this one into a conference room. Once you’ve succeeded, you’ll cut across the property, past the sugar cane, and head to the airfield.”

“What about our exfil?” Woods huffed out a breath of smoke.

“We will have transport waiting for you,” Carlos promised. “Just be there.”

“Thanks a ton, Carlos,” Woods said, putting on a smile. He pocketed the map, stamping out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray. “Te lo debemos.”

“Sí, sí.” Carlos waved a hand before wiping the sweat beading on his forehead. As he spoke, his eyes darted warily between the four of them. “I just hope you will be able to pull it off.”

“We will.” Adler pulled a handful of cash and coins from his pocket, sliding it to Carlos and nodding towards it. “Bit of a tip for you. We appreciate the help.” As Carlos pocketed the money and returned to his cleaning with a nervous smile, Adler checked his watch and huffed out a breath. Outside, sirens still faintly wailed in the distance. “Well, I imagine the cops’ll be here soon. We should head out.”

“Why the hurry? If they’re lookin’ for a fight then I wouldn’t wanna disappoint ‘em,” Woods said with a shrug. Then he reached over and clapped Alex so hard on his shoulder that he knocked him off balance. “Ready for your first real op?”

Although it felt like his stomach was twisting into knots and doing backflips for good measure, Alex was still able to manage a bit of a smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Both of you better get the butterflies out of your stomachs,” Adler said, glancing between Alex and Bowman. “If you get too wrapped up in the excitement and your nerves then you could let your guard down. It’s not like training. We don’t get do-overs.”

“Sheesh, Adler, a couple of years ago you were in the same spot they were,” Woods said with a huff, elbowing him. “Let ‘em have a moment, they’ll be fine.”

Bowman swallowed, looking more than a bit out of sorts. “I think I’m gonna be sick, actually…”

Adler stamped out his cigarette. “You can be sick after the operation. For now…”

Muffled voices outside drew their attention to the door, and Woods sighed, looking over his shoulder. “We’ve got company.”

The door swung open, and the men at the card game promptly got to their feet and hurried for the back door as four armed militia men stepped inside. The woman tried to follow her companions, but one of the soldiers seized her by her wrist. Mason, Woods, and Bowman started to move to help, but a look from Adler and a subtle shake of Carlos’ head told the three of them that it was better to keep to themselves. There was a brief exchange of Spanish shouting before the soldier shoved the woman away, her struggling leading her to stumble backwards and off balance. She hit the ground. Alex moved to help her up, but Adler and Bowman reached her first, helping her to her feet. She glanced at the soldiers and promptly ran for the back door. And their involvement drew the attention of the soldiers.

Alex watched them out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be focused on his hands. He tensed as he felt their eyes on him. “¡Oye!” one of them snapped. He was a short, stocky, and had a wide stance that reminded Alex of a bulldog. His voice was rough when he spoke. “¿De dónde tú eres?”

“Fuck…” Alex muttered under his breath, looking away. He swallowed as the militia man repeated himself in English.

“I said ‘where are you from?’” The soldier took a few steps forward.

Two of the others closed in on Adler and Bowman, clearly not buying that any of them were anything but American. Woods kept his back to them, but he shifted his arm to the edge of the bar. Alex eyed him. So did Adler. “Be cool, Woods,” Alex said quietly. He already knew him well enough after the last year to know that he was reaching for his weapon holster. But whether it was for the gun or the knife, Alex didn’t know. The soldiers were circling like sharks, sizing them up, and Woods had a hairpin trigger temper. He didn't like getting backed into corners, Alex knew that by now.

Taking a breath, Alex shifted, reaching for his own gun as the stocky militia soldier shouldered his way between his men. “Just wait.” Woods glanced at him, one eyebrow raised while the other furrowed. Alex nodded. “Trust me.”

“Hey!” The soldier’s voice boomed. “I’m talking to you!”

Alex let out an involuntary grunt as he was suddenly grabbed by the collar of his shirt and yanked forward. He clawed at the hand gripping his collar to get free, but as the man reached with his free hand, Woods grabbed his arm, yanked it to the countertop, and slammed his knife through his hand in a swift motion. For good measure, he grabbed the nearest beer bottle and slammed it into the soldier’s face, cutting his screaming short as he fell to the ground, his hand still held to the bar by Woods’ knife. Meanwhile, thanks to the struggle, Bowman had managed to grab the soldier nearest to him from behind and sliced neck with his own knife, while Adler and Alex grabbed their guns and shot the remaining two before they could react. In a second it was all over. Dead silence, aside from a dog barking outside. And at some point, Carlos had disappeared.

“Ho-ly shit,” Alex breathed out, feeling himself shiver. He let out a laugh, looking up at Woods. “Did we seriously just do that?”

“Welcome to the CIA, kid,” Woods said with a huff. He pulled his knife out of the first soldier’s hand, letting the body drop to the floor. He then motioned for Alex to hand him the gun, and when he did he shot the soldier through the head for good measure before he handed the weapon back to Alex. “We should get going. There’s no way no one heard those shots.”

“Where’s Carlos?” Bowman asked, glancing to the bar.

As if on a cue, Carlos emerged from the back room with a shotgun, tossing it to Woods. “Here. Some extra firepower, just in case,” he said, sounding out of breath. “Everything is ready. My men will take care of the bodies, and I will try to buy you some time to get away.”

“Sorry about the bar, Carlos,” Woods said with a grateful smile. “I’d pay you for the damages, but…”

“It’s not a problem,” Carlos said with a shake of his head. Dark circles under his eyes gave away just how tired he was, and if Alex had to guess, it wasn’t just physical fatigue weighing on him. He nodded towards the door. “If the operation is a success, then we can call it even.”

Woods grinned and looked between Alex and Carlos. Clearly, he liked the optimism. “Don’t worry, Carlos, it will be.”

“You should go now,” Carlos said. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can, then I’ll meet you at the airfield. Suerte, my friends.”

“Catch ya on the flip side, Carlos,” Woods said, already heading for the front door. Alex was already falling in step beside him, while Adler and Bowman hesitated. “C’mon, boys, let’s get going.”

“You don’t think we should go the back way?” Bowman asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

“Bowman’s right. We’ve drawn enough attention to ourselves,” Adler said. “Going through the front door isn’t usually the best option.”

“Ah, c’mon, where’s your sense of adventure? We don’t get to do this kinda shit every day,” Woods said, motioning for them to hurry up. Alex almost thought to point out that this kind of stuff was quite literally in their job description. He went on uninterrupted, though. He glanced out the barred windows, craning his neck to try and spot any nearby police vehicles. “Besides, they pissed me off. I’m just lookin’ for a reason at this point…”

“I was right earlier,” Bowman said with a sigh, shaking his head as he looked up at the ceiling, likely praying to God that this didn’t go sideways anymore than it already had. “Outta our damn minds…”

Adler looked at him and back at Woods, a blank expression on his face. Alex still noticed a slight tic in his jaw. “This’ll make for one hell of a report…”

“If we live to write it,” Alex said, only half-joking. He was willing to follow Woods’ lead, but the adrenaline rush from the fight was fading already and he was starting to feel sick to his stomach.

“Ye of so little fuckin’ faith,” Woods snorted. “I got us this far in one piece, didn’t I?”

Adler gave him a pointed look as Carlos armed himself with one of the dead soldier’s rifles. Bowman barely glanced his way. Alex broke the brief second of silence, shrugging as he joined Woods on the opposite side of the door. “We don’t have much else to lose at this point,” he said. “Might as well go all in.”

Although they weren’t happy about it, neither one of them made any more arguments before they stacked up behind Woods. He smirked, letting out a rough chuckle. “All right…on me.”

As Woods turned the door handle and slipped out into the night, Alex made sure to follow close behind, handgun at the ready, Bowman right behind him, while Adler took up the rear. They filed back into the streets, everything a hazy blue as the sun started to rise. The distant wail of a siren had them all slipping into the nearest alleyway, hiding in the shadows until the car passed by, and a group of soldiers on foot marched by across the street. They waited for about a minute before Woods peered around the corner and motioned for them to follow. Alex wasn’t sure he was breathing as they made their way through the streets, weaving between parked cars and alleyways, dodging the odd patrol every step of the way.

It wasn’t long before they turned down the alleyway where they’d left the car. Unfortunately for them, the militia and police had found it first.

“Fuck me…” Woods muttered. Before any of them could spitball a plan, he took matters into his own hands. Pumping the shotgun, he marched towards the pair of soldiers and the police officers snooping around the car. “¡Oye! ¿Qué coño estás haciendo con mi coche?”

The group turned, one soldier readying his rifle. “Hey, hey, baja tu arma!”

Instead of actually shooting the guy, he caught him off guard by dropping the shotgun and marching straight up and punching him, then he shoved him back against the car with a thud and quickly wrestled the rifle out of his hands. Alex jumped into action without a second thought, pointing his pistol and firing at the soldier closest to Woods. Adler and Bowman rushed the other soldier and the two police officers. Woods finally got the rifle free and reached for his handgun, planting a shot in his head before he shoved the body off of the door. Bowman got one of the militia soldiers with his knife, and Adler made a few shots to the police officer’s chest with his pistol before he reached for the rifle he dropped.

The last of the officers looked about Alex and Bowman’s age. Upon realizing he didn’t have a weapon on him (what kind of a cop didn’t keep a weapon on him?), he started running down the opposite alley, starting to shout something in Spanish. Alex snagged one of the soldier’s weapons and readied the shot, but Adler beat him to the punch. There were four quick snaps like thunder, the sound of impact on the dirt, a grunt as one bullet his his leg, and a dull thump as the third and fourth shots landed along his spine and he fell forward without another sound. One of them must have gone through and hit something vital, because he didn’t get back up.

The radios the five Cubans had on them all crackled to life, various transmissions coming through. Woods grabbed one of them and turned up the volume before he chucked it down the alley, and shouting along the neighboring streets told them they had kicked a hornet’s nest. Woods threw a glance over his shoulder, then rounded on the car, pointing at Alex and Bowman. “Gear up, boys. We’re gonna have to fight our way outta here.”

With his way of doing things that much was obvious. Alex had to admit, it got his adrenaline going and his blood boiling. It was exciting…in a terrifying kind of way. They kicked the bodies out of the way, threw the extra weapons in the back seat after they all grabbed what they wanted from the trunk, and they practically leapt into the car. Alex climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked the car, just as a band of militia men reached the edge of the alley.

“Oh, shit,” Alex managed to mutter. Something about potentially adding more people to an already growing body count was enough to make him fumble a bit as he tried to figure out how to get out of this alley. “Uh…”

“Hit it, Mason!” Woods shouted, and it was enough to snap him out of his thoughts. “Go!”

The order and the abrupt gunfire snapped Alex to attention, and he swallowed down any hesitancy he had as he threw the car into reverse, glancing behind him as he slammed his foot on the gas. A few of the soldiers jumped out of the way. He spun the car around, crashing into some crates before he shifted to drive and once again slammed on the gas, yanking the wheel all the way around. He could hear the tires screech as the car lurched around and then forward, literally crashing past one of the police cruisers parked at the edge of the alley. He could hear muffled shouting outside of the car, but he wasn’t giving himself a chance to think anymore. As they zipped down the street, the officers and militia soldiers recovered from their confusion and shell shock enough to start shooting. Bullets were flying in either direction, but all Alex could do was duck and keep driving.

“Fucking goddammit!” Woods spat as he ducked as well.

“Going loud was your idea, Woods!” Adler reminded him over the sounds of gunfire and breaking glass.

The windshield and windows spider-webbed until they burst, sending shards of glass flying. Alex could only see Woods, who sunk low into his seat and kicked out the remainder of the windshield, taking the chance to fire back as the car swerved through the streets. Adler and Bowman worked together to knock the rear windshield out to cover their retreat. Alex straightened up in his seat, just in time to see a barricade that had been thrown up. Several cruisers, armed police and soldiers, and what looked like barbed wired fences…and they didn’t have anywhere to go but through it.

Woods shouted over the gunfire, “Shit! Roadblock!”

“I see it!” Alex shouted back. “Heads down and strap in, this is gonna be bumpy!”

Although he felt like he was going to puke, he slammed his foot on the gas and gunned it towards the roadblock. Like a game of chicken, the men on foot held their ground until it was obvious he wasn’t going to stop, then a few of them dove out of the way at the last second. Most of them didn’t have a chance though. He crashed through the cars, the wood, and the men, flinching a bit as they rolled over the car and the other vehicles ignited in the crash. The fact their car hadn’t blown up yet was a miracle. Just as they made it through the first blockade, they crashed through another, and in the blink of an eye they were home free. Just like that. Their escape was over.

As Alex’s nerves dissipated, he broke out in a grin and let out a shaky laugh as he looked around the car. The other three stared at him, all shaken, but eventually they cracked. The car was filled with hysterical laughter, complete with a friendly shake from Woods as they all celebrated still being alive. Even if this was just step one in their mission, Alex figured they should go ahead and count their blessings. Laughing, cheering, and whooping filled the car as their car sputtered along, practically limping as they made the drive for the plantation.

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The car crapped out about ten miles from the compound, which meant they had to make the rest of the trip on foot.

They stocked up on ammunition, grenades, and cigarettes (in Adler and Woods’ case—“If shit goes south and we end up in front of a firing squad I wanna make sure I get my last smoke,” was what Woods had said to justify it) before setting off along the dirt road that would eventually lead them to the edge of the plantation. They were lucky they ditched their police escort not long after they slammed through that barricade, otherwise they’d be stuck trying to shake them off their trail the whole way, and at this point they couldn’t afford anymore hiccups.

By now, though, everyone was focused on the main operation. While they were trudging through the undergrowth, the CIA was launching their attack on a beach on the opposite side of the country…that attack was half of their cover. Once Carlos did his part, there would be enough chaos and confusion for their team to slip by unnoticed. They had a short window of time before Castro would no doubt be evacuated, which was why the timing had to be just right. It was also why hoofing it the rest of the way through the jungle wasn’t exactly an ideal situation. They’d be cutting it close, but something told Alex that Woods was all right with that.

After about twenty minutes they, they reached the top of a ridge overlooking the sugar plantation. The hill itself dipped down into a deep ditch with a rather abrupt drop, cut through by a rock studded creek, and on the other end of that was a shorter slope that rose to the edge of the wall that enclosed the property. Apparently the militia that had taken it over had already set up outposts on the exterior. They’d set up sandbags and crates, and left two guards posted, guarding a flimsy pair of zip lines that stretched across the ditch and into the courtyard.

Alex and Woods rushed them both before Bowman and Adler could jump into action. Alex cupped a hand over the mouth of one of them with his right arm, then he wrapped his left arm across his neck into a chokehold and wrestled him backwards, both of them hitting the ground with a thud that knocked the breath out of them, but Alex kept a stiff hold on the Cuban soldier. The man clawed uselessly at Alex’s arms, but the more he exerted himself trying to get free, the tighter Alex held onto him, and the harder it was for him to get any oxygen. He went limp and Alex exhaled before a quick jerking motion snapped the man’s neck. The dead weight settled on his chest and he harshly shoved the body away. Woods had similar success, only he’d bludgeoned his target from the back of the head before he’d seized it and twisted.

He pushed himself up from the dirt, swinging his gun back over his shoulder after it had been jostled out of place during the scuffle. He took a breath and dusted himself off, taking in their new surroundings. No doubt, they were in the right place.

From here they could see over the back corner of the property…most of the buildings were mills. But across this slope and up another, towards the center of the property, was a stately villa where Castro was nice and comfortable. From here it was hidden by trees. But Woods quickly pulled the crudely drawn map from his pocket and swung his own weapon out of the way, laying it out on the improvised desk the guards had apparently made from a busted crate.

“Okay, there’s the compound…we’re right here,” Woods said, tapping the farthest corner of the property on Carlos’ map. “And we need to get here. And the airfield is over here, where our ride out’ll be waiting.” He tapped each area before he folded it haphazardly and shoved it back into his pocket. He straightened up, rolling his shoulder and popping it with a satisfied grunt. “Piece of cake.”

“So what’s the plan?” Bowman asked as he stepped up beside him. “How are we gettin’ down there?”

Woods glanced at him, then stepped towards one of the zip lines. Adler, who had been peeking over the edge of the hill looked up as Woods stepped up to test the line, tugging on it while the metal groaned. He stepped back, surveying it. All of them stared at him with matching looks of disbelief. Alex tried to blink away his shock, but his poker face wasn’t that good yet. Woods seemed wholly unbothered by the precarious set up they had here. “I dunno…” he said, glancing around. “Think it’ll hold?”

No one answered right away, until Adler finished his inspection. “We’ll find out,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t see another way down, unless any of you want to break an ankle.”

“Y’know, these things were probably made to send supplies down, right?” Bowman said. “Not four grown-ass men.”

“It’s all we’ve got,” Alex said. “We’re just gonna have to make do.”

“That’s what they pay us for,” Woods said. He pulled a clip from his vest, nodding towards the line. “Get ready to hook up. Carlos and his men should be hittin’ the airfield any minute now. Mason, behind me. Bowman, Adler, you take the other one.” He stepped back up, towards the base of the line, filling them in on their plan as they went. “We’re gonna dive into that courtyard and use the chaos at the airfield for cover. We get in, we get to the villa, kill Castro, and we get out. Simple as that.”

“And any hiccups along the way?” Adler asked him as he lined up behind Bowman on the opposite zip line.

Woods opened his mouth to reply, but Alex answered for him. “Then we deal with it. Right?”

Woods looked at him, then back to Adler, jerking his head towards Alex. “What Mason said.”

Bowman stepped up, hooking his clip to the line. “This all seems excessive,” he muttered. “Y’sure we can’t just slide down on foot and…climb back up or somethin’?”

“We need to hit ‘em fast. That ain’t fast,” Woods replied. Alex didn’t like the plan anymore than Bowman did. All of them were pushing 200 pounds, most of it muscle, and the lines didn’t look the sturdiest. But the ditch below was too steep and rocky for them to get down and back up, at least not easily. So hooking up and praying the line held was about the only thing they could do.

Before they could argue about it anymore, there was a distant explosion followed by the sound of soldiers shouting and birds scattering from the nearby trees. At almost the exact same time, a flare shot up into the sky, whizzing and crackling as it crested and began to die out.

“There’s the signal,” Adler said, stepping forward as Bowman hopped onto the zip line’s anchor point. The faint sound of a siren filled the air. “They know they’ve got visitors.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t know about us,” Woods said. Then he let out a low chuckle. “Yet.”

Alex glanced over at Adler and Bowman and both of them just shook their heads. Woods was a hell of a soldier, but as far as strategy went…fast and loud was about the only thing you were going to get from him, as their bar fight and car chase had proven. He was just lucky they had the element of surprise on their hands. There were plenty of distractions, from the main invasion to this attack on the airfield, which meant they could go right in through the backdoor and Castro’s lackeys would be none the wiser. It wasn’t exactly a fool-proof plan, but it was good enough for them. It wasn’t like any of them could have come up with something better.

Woods and Bowman pushed off the ridge first, Alex and Adler close behind them. It was a short trip, so fast that Alex didn’t even have time to look down and see just how bad the drop would actually be. The wire let out a metallic groan under the weight, but it was otherwise steady as the four of them made their descent into the courtyard below. The foliage and rocks around them zipped by in a gray-green blur in his peripheral vision and the four of them barely cleared the courtyard wall before they let go, having a split second to time their drop.

Alex let go of the clip he’d hooked to the wire, stumbling forward when he hit the dirt. Woods and Adler hit the ground running, colliding with two of the three guards that were lingering around the courtyard. They were speaking rapid fire into one of the radios strapped to their vests, likely trying to figure out what was going on, but with the sound of the wire and the thud of four men hitting the dirt they whirled around. Woods and Adler barreled into the two guards closest to them and tackled them into the dirt, while Bowman let go and knocked into the third guard’s chest feet-first.

In a few seconds all three guards were laying dead in the grass, blood spattered around them.

Alex straightened up, reaching for his gun. “Looks like we’re clear.”

“All right. Good,” Woods said. He straightened up, readying his own gun. “Keep it tight. We’ll clear out this building, get the lay of the land.”

Woods led the way, jogging up the steps of the loading dock and into the warehouse, Alex, Adler, and Bowman not far behind him. Alex wasn’t entirely sure what this place looked like when it wasn’t being forcefully occupied, but he imagined there were more crates with bags of sugar and less filled with guns, ammunition, and alcohol. Carlos claimed the mill itself was still operational—given that sugar was the backbone of Cuba’s economy—but this particular farm was primarily a front for the military, giving Castro somewhere to lay low whenever he needed. And boy, did he need it now.

As they rounded the corner they found a soldier hunched over a radio, talking back and forth. Alex didn’t have to understand Spanish to figure out from the urgency in the voices of him and his companions that they were talking about the attack on the airfield. Without a word, Woods crept ahead, pulling a garrote from his pocket before he lunged up and wrapped it around the soldier’s throat. He pulled it taut and with as much force as possible. The soldier thrashed in surprise, letting out a startled choking sound as he tried to kick himself free, instead only succeeding in sending the chair he’d been standing beside flying while he tried to dig the wire away. Eventually he went limp, and Woods released the wire, letting the soldier’s body hit the stone floor with a muted thud.

While Woods fiddled with the volume and frequency knobs on the radio, Bowman and Adler posted up on either side of the door out and Alex shuffled to the other side of the table, peering out the window as a group of soldiers ran up the hill from a neighboring building.

“Perfect,” Woods said, cutting the radio off. “Sounds like they’re all focused on the airfield.”

“What’s the strategy?” Bowman said, glancing out the other window before he returned to his position by the door. “‘Cause that’s a lotta heat if we go loud.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll lay low and let ‘em pass,” Woods said, moving up to stand beside Adler on the other side of the door. Alex moved behind him. “The attack on the airfield already has alarm bells goin’ off, I don’t wanna spook ‘em even more and give Castro a chance to run.” They waited a few minutes for the shouting of the men to fade out, then he tapped Adler on the shoulder. “All right, let’s go.”

Adler opened the door, slowly and carefully, easing outside and keeping low. The rest of them fell in behind him. Once they were sure they were clear they moved across the dirt road, heading up the hill the soldiers had raced up. They kept to the side, along of the walls of the buildings until they came to a large shed where a handful of soldiers were gathered around a truck. Two stood on the truck handing out additional guns, three waited beside the truck, and two were headed for a steep set of concrete stairs.

They paused, out of sight on the edge of another warehouse, and each one of them picked a target. Alex picked the soldier at the top of the stairs, thinking back to his time hunting elk with his father in Alaska. People were a lot more unpredictable when it came to how they’d react to an attack compared to elk, but one principle still applied: the rest were going to scatter as soon as one of them went down. How they’d scatter was a different story, since they could either bolt to alert whoever was waiting up the hill at the main villa or rally and shoot back. Both meant bad news, but the latter was easier to deal with.

Alex led his target until he stopped walking, turning around to shout something at the soldier at the base of the stairs, then he aimed the crosshairs of his sight at the man’s chest, slowly resting the pad of his finger on the trigger. The soldier must have spotted him, and once again the memory of a dozen hunting trips settled in the back of Alex’s mind. He froze and locked eyes, realization setting in. The exact second he opened his mouth, Alex pulled the trigger, and the rest of the team followed suit. He heard the dull pop of four muted shots and the faint sound of the bullets zipping through the air towards their targets, and Alex, Woods, and Adler dropped the remaining three as they spun around to shoot back. The two on the truck leapt off, snatching up two of the weapons they were handing out, but by the time they hit the ground they were dead.

“All right, let’s go. Up the stairs,” Woods said without missing a beat, springing up and breaking into a jog.

As they raced for the stairs, the distant sound of rapid gunfire could be heard from the direction of the airfield.

“Sounds like Carlos is keeping busy,” Alex said through a pant as he followed Woods up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. It was a steep run for anyone.

“And with any luck that’ll keep Castro’s pals busy, too,” Woods said over his shoulder. Alex could tell from his tone and the pace he was keeping that he was chomping at the bit to get the mission done. “C’mon. We’ve got about five minutes before the Air Force starts their bombing run.”

They kept their pace up the stairs and past more buildings, some of which were deserted while others had unarmed civilians trying to keep their heads down and work in spite of the obvious attack happening down by the airfield. Alex suspected they usually had armed supervisors, but everyone seemed to have left their post to go and aid their allies against Carlos and his men. As they took a shortcut through one of the active mills, the workers sorting through some stage or another of processing the sugar from the looks of things, Woods shouted something at them in Spanish that had some diving out of the way and others running back the way their team had come from. Some of them went for other buildings, and whether they were going to find a soldier to alert or if they were running to pass the word along to their fellow workers in other areas didn’t seem to matter to Woods. And it didn’t matter to Alex, either. They didn’t ask to be there, they were just civilians doing their job, and it was better to give as many of them as possible a chance to run now that no one was forcing them to ignore the mess around them and keep working.

At the top of the hill was the two-story villa that had been taken up as the headquarters of the soldiers occupying at the plantation. Pale sandstone, topped with red, barreled tile roofing, wrapped around a courtyard and surrounded by wilting flower beds and thriving trees. Smoke rose up into the sky on the other side of the villa, drifting over the roof, marring what would have been a nice view in any other context. The side entrance was less attractive than the front and back entrances likely were, with a small driveway and several military trucks parked outside of it, but it was no less grand with a set of double doors atop another steep set of stairs and a long patio at the top. That was their point of entry.

They fell in single line and raced up the stairs. Woods wasted no time kicking in the door as soon as they reached the top, rifle at the ready. They were met by a large, empty kitchen and complete silence inside the house. Alex, Adler, and Bowman all crept inside after Woods, venturing further inside. Woods led the way out of the kitchen and into the hall, checking the corner to the right while Alex checked left. The wood in the hall groaned slightly as they stepped into the hall, feeling deafening in the quiet of the house. Faintly Alex could hear voices talking in Spanish, likely inside the house, and the dulled sound of the ongoing attack on the airfield.

When Woods finally spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper. “Adler, Bowman, search down here,” he said. “Mason and I’ll head upstairs. When you clear this side of the house, head across that courtyard. We’re gonna search this place room to room until we find Castro.”

“Copy that,” Adler said, quickly turning down the hall. “Bowman, let’s go.”

“We’ll see y’all on the other side, then.” Bowman followed Adler, lightly punching Alex on the shoulder as he passed him. “Stay frosty.”

“Yeah, you too,” Alex said with a nod. He gave him his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “Good hunting.”

“All right, let’s get after it,” Woods said roughly. “Mason, on me.”

The two of them headed off in the opposite direction, reaching a dead end and yet another set of stairs. As quickly and quietly as possible they headed up stairs, walking shoulder-to-shoulder. Woods aimed down one side and Alex opposite of him as they reached the top, stepping out into the upstairs hallway. From there, they began to check each room, carefully opening each door. The odd soldier was promptly dropped before they could sound the alarm.

They were reaching the last set of doors when an explosion sounded nearby and the entire building shook, knocking Alex and Woods off balance. The overhead lights shook and swayed as another explosion hit.

“Shit,” Woods muttered.

“That’ll be the flyboys,” Adler’s hushed voice came over the radio attached to their vests. “Good thing we’re almost done down here.”

“Carlos should have the frequency they’re on. See if you can get in touch with him,” Woods muttered into the radio. “We’ll be done in five.” He shook his head, and to Alex he said, “We better get to him in time. CIA’s been tryin’ to nail Castro for years. He’s paranoid. But the lack of soldiers he’s got posted around this place…I dunno, does somethin’ feel off to you?”

“Do you think he’s gotten cocky?” Alex asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe…” Woods cut himself off, shaking his head. “Forget about it. War room’s just up ahead.”

There was another set of double doors, frantic shouting coming from the other side. Woods stopped outside, one hand rested on the door knob. “Stack up.”

“On you,” Alex said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

A second later Woods kicked the door open and the two of them burst through the doorway, catching the group of officers inside off guard. They were all packing up papers from the looks of things, no doubt planning to make a quick escape, but at the disturbance they all spun to face the doors, startled by the intrusion for just a second before they reached for their sidearms. Alex took aim and shot one, Woods another, and a third soldier dove for a rifle sitting in one of the plush chairs by the fireplace. Alex was faster. He reached for the gun, his fingers barely brushing the strap before a bullet struck the man through the head and his body hit the ground with a thump.

Quickly the two of them closed in and checked the bodies. None of them were Castro.

“One room left,” Woods said, voice low. He reached for the radio on his vest, tilting his head towards it. “Adler, Bowman. War room’s empty. We’re moving on.”

“Nothing on our end either. We’re moving across the courtyard now,” came Adler’s response.

The sound of something in the other room drew both Alex and Woods’ attention to the last set of doors and they exchanged a look before quietly closing on the door. Woods quickly said. “We’ve got movement inside. Stand by.” He took point again, pausing outside the door. Something hit the ground and it sounded like there were voices. “This is it, Mason…you ready to make history?”

“Damn straight,” Alex said, feeling his heart rate pick up. “Let’s do it.”

The two made entry into the room, the door swinging open to reveal Castro arguing with a woman, a suitcase between them. As soon as the door opened, Castro grabbed a pistol from his holster with one hand and used his free arm to wrap it around the woman’s neck, dragging her in front of them. Unfortunately for him, Alex was a good shot. The crosshairs were in line with his head, and Alex pulled the trigger. The bullet zipped through the air before Castro had a chance to take the shot, hitting the mark right between his eyes. He fell backwards, limp body pulling the woman to the floor with him.

She screamed, the shrill sound something between a shout of disgust and fear and one of rage. Blood spattered onto her, staining the short, white sundress she was wearing and she seemed momentarily in a state of shock. She recovered quickly though, scrambling for something under the bed. The next thing they knew she had pulled a gun from under the bed, staggering to her feet and screaming something at them as she spun around.

“Hey, woah, woah!” Alex held out a hand, trying to de-escalate. “We’re not here to hurt you! It's all right!”

“Drop the gun!” Woods raised his own rifle, taking a step forward. “Drop the—fuck…sue…¡Suelta el arma!”

The woman took a step back, frantically looking between the two of them. She muttered something, then gritted her teeth and pulled the trigger, popping off a few rapid fire shots before her gun jammed. Alex ducked and rolled, but Woods was too slow to react. Fortunately, it only grazed him. He didn’t wince until he noticed the fast growing red line through the torn sleeve. Before she could take aim and fire again, Alex had already straightened up and fired his own set of shots, one of which struck her neck. A few seconds later she dropped to the floor beside Castro’s body, leaving Alex to stare at them both, feeling like there was a knot in his throat.

“Son of a bitch!” Woods spat. He gestured with his weapon towards the bodies. “He uses her as a human shield and she still protects him?!”

Alex got to his feet, feeling his knees buckle as he stood, hands a little shaky as he dropped his gun to his side. “They…did say Castro’s supporters were fanatical in their devotion to him. I didn’t think they were that crazy, though,” he said, but he could barely process the words coming out of his own mouth. He shook it off, turning back to Woods. “Are you good?”

“I’ll be fine, it just burns like hell,” Woods said through gritted teeth. He brushed it off though, turning back towards the war room. “Confirm the kill. I’m gonna see if there’s any papers in here worth taking, then we’re getting the hell out of dodge.”

Alex nodded. “Sounds good to me,” he said, approaching their bodies. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to be looking for, but he let his gun hang at his side as he knelt beside them both. It looked like Castro. And he was sure they were both dead. But as he got a closer look, through the blood, something looked off about the beard. It looked like it was peeling off his face, close to the edge of his sideburns. He furrowed his brow, reaching out and tugging at the edge of it. It separated with some resistance, the heat and the blood likely helping it along. “Shit.” His shell-shock from the woman’s death came to an abrupt halt, replaced instead by frustration. He slammed his fist against the wooden footboard of the bed before he called out, “Woods, we’ve got a problem.”

“We might have more than one,” Woods called back. “What’ve you got?”

“It’s not Castro,” Alex replied.

“The hell d’ya mean it’s not Castro?” Woods asked.

“It’s a body double,” Alex said, getting to his feet. He marched towards Woods, blood spattered fake beard in his hands. He held it up for Woods to see before dropping it to the ground, not keen on holding it for much longer. He reached for his own radio. “Adler, Bowman, did you find anything?”

“Not a damn thing,” Bowman replied, voice crackling through the speaker. “We heard gunfire coming from your side, though. Y’all okay?”

“We just shot a fucking decoy,” Alex replied, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. “Castro isn’t here.”

Adler started to say something, but another pair of explosions went off and the building shook again, cutting him off. All Alex heard was the two of them swearing over the radio before the sound of the explosion drowned them out like static. Once things settled, Adler said, “Well, the Air Force can’t circle around anymore and Carlos’ men are outnumbered down by the airfield. If we plan on getting out of here alive we need to go now.”

“We’re on our way,” Alex said. He grabbed his rifle again, turning to where Woods was still shuffling through papers. “Woods?”

“Yeah, yeah, just gimme a second,” Woods said. “None of this crap makes any sense. This name keeps repeating, seems like it’s some kind of a codename. ‘Perseus.’” He handed one of the papers to Alex, but he could only read the bits that weren’t in Spanish, giving it a once-over. “Who the fuck is Persues?”

“Could it be a weapon?” Alex asked him.

“Nah, it sounds like a person,” Woods said. Another explosion rocked the villa. He snatched the paper back, shoving it into his pocket as he swung his own rifle back around. “Forget it, we’ll worry about that later. C’mon.”

Alex took off sprinting after Woods, the two of them cutting back through the bedroom and onto the balcony that went across to the other side. He kicked the door in and the two of them exited to find a chunk of the house missing and the exposed wood rapidly going up in flames. Bowman charged out of one of the rooms, locked in a fight with a Cuban soldier, slamming the man against the railing before he threw him over it. Adler was further down the hall, stabbing a knife through another soldier’s neck before he shot him for good measure.

Without a word, the four of them took off for what remained of the stairs, jumping over burning debris and vaulting over the ruins of the wall. As they sprinted across the property they stumbled through some of the craters left behind, weaving between mangled vehicles that from the looks of things hadn’t even been occupied. Meanwhile they could see smoke rising from the airfield, just beyond the sugarcane fields. They kept running, through the archway at the end of the road, until Alex’s lungs were burning and he was certain the only thing keeping him upright at this point was adrenaline.

The four stumbled into the fields, trying to cut a path of least resistance and to keep clear of the roads. Eventually they cleared the fields, coming to a steep drop behind the airfield. Down below were a row of hangars, some of them no longer recognizable. Overhead, the air force’s B-26 Marauders flew by overhead for one final pass, dropping the last of their payload on the remains of the farm behind them. Even on the opposite end of the field they could feel the impact. As quickly as they came they disappeared, climbing into the clouds overhead, the buzz of the propellers drowned out by the chaos below.

“All right, we need to get down there fast,” Woods said. “Hook up.”

Quickly, the four of them set anchor points into the ground, preparing to fast-rope down the slope. They were lucky they were all wearing gloves. One by one they grabbed onto the ropes and dropped down, more using the rope to keep themselves steady as they ran down the slope. Woods, Bowman, and Adler hit the dirt first, dropping their ropes and racing towards the nearest hangar. Alex was just a second behind when he felt the tension on the rope vanish, and suddenly there was nothing keeping him upright. He stumbled, twisting his leg as he landed. He felt something pop in his knee, heard a loud crunch, and he hit the dirt and slid.

“Shit!” He heard Woods curse behind him. A second later he hauled him to his feet. “The fuck just happened, Mason?”

“The anchor came undone,” Alex said, trying to apply his weight and stand normally. “Twisted my leg when I hit the dirt…” He’d done enough sports and had enough accidents to roughly figure out what happened. “I think I tore my damn ACL.”

“You good to walk?” Adler asked him from where he was braced against the hangar door, peering out at the chaos unfolding nearby.

“I’m gonna have to be,” Alex said. Red-hot pain started in his knee, shooting through the rest of his leg as he forced himself into an awkward jog. He didn’t have a choice. Thankfully, the pain was still dull. “Let’s go.”

Although they gave him skeptical, concerned looks, none of them argued. The four of them resumed their run across the airfield, dodging grenades and bullets in every direction, trying to head for the hangar where Carlos’ plane was supposed to waiting for them. Every step threatened to send him into the dirt, but Alex knew if he stopped moving then he was dead. For a while he was able to keep pace with them, but just as they were past the halfway mark to the hangar he started to slow, more dragging the leg than putting pressure on it. A grenade went off behind him, debris scattering over him while the shockwave sent him to the dirt. His entire body ached and his ears were ringing as he landed on his knees, struggling to push himself upright again. Woods and Adler raced back and pulled him back to his feet, hurriedly throwing his arms over their necks to carry him the rest of the way.

They reached the hangar where Carlos stood with a gun, waving them over. “Hurry!” he shouted, and it sounded like his voice was hoarse. “You have to leave, now!”

They sprinted across the hangar, ducking under the propellers of the plane. Bowman jumped in first, followed by Carlos, then Adler, then Woods, who turned back around to help Alex climb into the open door. The plane started to taxi out of the hangar before his feet were even off the ground.

He sucked in sharp, deep breaths, trying to fight off the pain as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “Gimme a gun,” he said, and Bowman grabbed a heavy machine gun from the precious few crates of weapons and ammunition that was likely part of a shipment for the Cuban military. But it was theirs now.

He braced himself against the door, bullets pinging off the metal body of the aircraft as they exited the hangar, and he started shooting at anything that moved. They were practically surrounded by now, most of Carlos’ forces either dead or retreating. The plane bumped and jostled over the now partially totaled taxiway, turning onto the runway as more vehicles started to close in. Alex kept shooting, aiming at soldiers, vehicles, even the watchtower as they passed by it.

Then Carlos’ voice came over the chaos. “Woods! There’s vehicles blocking the runway!” he said, voice straining over the gunfire and the sound of the engine. “There is not enough room for takeoff!”

Alex heard what sounded like Woods’ fist slamming into the nearest object, then he spotted a ZPU sitting off to the side of the runway. An idea hit him. “I’ll deal with it!” he shouted back, tossing the machine gun to the side.

“Mason?!” Woods shouted back. “The fuck are you doing?!”

He wasn’t really thinking. All he knew was that there was a problem and he found a solution. If the rest of them got out okay then he didn’t care. He jumped from the plane, his good leg taking the brunt of the impact as he fell to his knees. Pushing himself back up again he ran as best he could until he reached the ZPU, bracing himself against it for just a second as his injured knee buckled. He was sweating bullets, his ears were ringing, his muscles were aching, and his knee was throbbing so hard all he could clearly see was a white haze. He pulled himself into the seat, spinning the anti-aircraft gun around and aiming for the vehicles closing in at the edge of the runway.

He figured out the mechanics pretty quick, only having a few seconds, and he just started firing, bringing the gun around until he’d cleared the line. Then he released the gun, relaxing in the seat as he reached for his radio. “Runway’s clear.”

“Mason, goddamn you!” Woods’ already rough shout was made worse by the interference over the radio. “I’m oughta fucking throttle you!”

“Didn’t see another choice, Woods. This is what I signed up for,” Alex panted out. He would have been lying if he said dying wasn’t a terrifying thought. But if giving his friends a fighting chance and serving his country was the way he went out then that was good enough for him. He swallowed his fears, forcing himself to his feet as the plane lifted off the runway. “I’ll be fine, just go! Get out of here!” That was all he remembered before someone grabbed him from behind and he was slammed into the ground, staring up at the sky, the breath knocked out of him. He had only a second to try and reach for his knife before the butt of a rifle was slammed into his face and everything went dark.

When Alex finally came to he was overwhelmed by the unmistakable sound of a busy harbor. He slowly opened his eyes, his leg and now his head throbbing. He tried to move, but his hands were bound and rope burned his wrists as he tried to maneuver them. A second later, nausea and dizziness overwhelmed him as he was once again grabbed from behind, pulled up to his knees. He let his head hang, unable to move through the pain and the overwhelming nausea…the sunlight hitting him full force didn’t help it any, and he gritted his teeth as fingers dug into his scalp and yanked his head upright.

He was met by the sight of a large boat, adorned with a Russian name. His Russian was rusty, but he could get a rough idea of what it was. Rusalka. Two men stared down at him, both in boots and cargo pants. They circled him like vultures, beady eyes locked with his. The shorter, stockier of the two—with slicked back hair and square, stout features—broke out in a sneer. “So…you’re the one they sent,” he asked, each word spoken through a thick, decidedly Russian accent. His hulking, buzz-cut companion stood with his face in a scowl and his arms crossed, not saying a word. “You barely look old enough to hold a gun.”

“You…you’re a long way from home,” Alex managed to retort, not about to dignify them with another response.

“So are you, Amerikanskiy,” the man responded, his expression faltering. Dark, beady eyes flicked up to whoever was holding Alex up for him.

“The President says he is yours to do with as you wish. He said to consider him a gift,” the voice of the man holding him upright—likely an MP sent as a messenger—joined the conversation. Alex couldn’t move his head back to get a look at him, but he wasn’t anyone important. “In honor of our countries’ new relationship.” His voice took on a new tone as he added, “Just see to it that he suffers for his crimes.”

“Oh, I will see to that personally,” the Russian man said, stalking closer to Alex. “He will know suffering beyond his darkest fears.” His tone shifted to an almost sinister one as he crouched down to Alex’s level, leaning in close. “I have plans for you.”

Somehow, Alex found the strength to fight back. He struggled, tearing his head free from the Cuban soldier, lunging forward to headbutt the Russian. He heard a dull pop as he collided with the Russian’s nose and the man shot upright. He knew it was pointless, but if he went down, he wasn’t going down easy. Not without a fight. It wasn’t how he was raised. His captor spat out a string of curses in Russian, wiping blood from his nose as he glared down at Alex.

As the bigger of the two Russians—the scowling one—stepped forward, giant hand clenched in a fist, the stockier one held a hand out to stop him. He reached for his own handgun, and the next thing Alex felt was searing pain as the pistol slammed into his face.

#call of duty #black ops #call of duty black ops #cod black ops #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #alex mason #frank woods #russell adler #joseph bowman

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echoingbirdsofprey · 6 months ago

Text

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

4 - Windows Down On A First Ride In A Paid Up Truck

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, lots of pregnancy talk, unprotected!piv (wrap before you tap) argueing, angry/annoyed!Tyler, brotherly teasing and wrestling, and hopefully I didn't miss anything. Just a reminder, none of my work is beta read and I do my best to edit as best as I can so sometimes I have to go back and fix things after I reread it a million and a half times so sorry about that!

A/N: This is an interesting chapter. I had trouble writing it at first and then once it started flowing I couldn't stop. There are a lot of key moments in here between our four main characters. There's a little smut, a little angst, a little fluff and just all around a lot. The part art the end is something I have actually seen happen so I pulled from some personal experience for this one and the next one as well. The chapter after this will come with heavy warnings because as always I can't leave well enough alone. So please enjoy this chapter, the next will be heartbreaking. As always, likes, comments, reblogs, and any feedback is always always appreciated! Love y'all that keep reading along and hang with me on this journey. It's a really fun one so far and there's a SHITLOAD more to come!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @barnesboo1967 @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

Georgia had been getting many requests for lessons and training and she had tl weed out the people who just wanted to come and meet Tyler and be nosy because there were quite a few people who were exactly that. They jointly came up with a questionnaire for people to fill out, detailing exactly what people were looking for with their horses to make it easier to wade through the nonsense phone calls and texts. There had been a quiet period in between the holidays where there had been minimal inquiries except for one lady who kept calling.

“Ugh...Tyler. It's the same lady.” Georgia said, looking at her caller ID. It was a number from a western Oklahoma area code and she knew it was the same woman because she'd leave the same text right after the call.

Unknown: Hi Georgia my names Taylor I've got a horse i need some help with. I know its the holidays but if you could call me back when you get a chance I'd appreciate it. Happy Holidays.

“Just answer. It's almost New Year’s anyway.” Tyler said. He had been sitting on the couch next to her, but decided to pause the video he was editing to engage in a cuddle session, seeing as Sam and Jake had stepped out to take the dogs for a walk around the property. Georgia giggled softly and then cleared her throat as she answered the call. Tyler ceased his movements, his lips stationary against her neck.

“Hey, Georgia, my name’s Taylor and I was hopin’ you could help me out. I’ve got a pretty nervous horse and was told by a bunch of people that you were the person to take him to for training. I’m hopin’ you’ve got a spot open?” The woman sounded older and Georgia wondered if she realized it hasn't gone to voicemail.

“Hi, Taylor. Unfortunately I don’t have room at the moment and I’m actually pregnant so I can’t really do much more than groundwork. Maybe I can refer you to someone else for now?” Georgia said, hoping that might satisfy the woman's needs for now.

“I’d much rather wait until you were available. He’s been to too many trainers already. This is kind of the last straw.” The lady's voice grew heavy and Georgia pursed her lips. She turned to Tyler, who was listening. He shrugged his shoulders, leaving it up to Georgia to make a decision. Her lips thinned and she thought for a moment before making a suggestion.

“Oh...I’m sorry to hear that. I mean...best I could do at the moment is come take a look at him if you want?” That was the best she could come up with for now.

“Yeah, that would be great. I’ll text you my address. We’re just outside of Cleo Springs.” The woman said, hanging up immediately and sending the text with the address.

“Guess we're going to look at a horse?” Georgia asked and Tyler nodded.

“Well she'll have to wait until our make out session is done.” Tyler smirked and he took the phone from her hand and placed it on the coffee table. He hovered above Georgia before gently pressing her into the cushions. His hands were warm and inviting, much like his lips as they moved against any exposed skin he could find. Georgia’s head fell back against the couch and she let her eyes close, enjoying Tyler’s soft touch.

“Mmm, Tyler.” She purred in his ear and he chuckled as he splayed his fingers across her still growing belly. He locked her in place with his legs on either side of her hips. He shifted, kneeing her legs open. He was careful as he rested the backs of her thighs against his for support.

“This okay? Comfortable? You’ll tell me if it isn’t?” He asked, kissing her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then he stopped at her lips. She nodded and closed the distance between them.

“I’m okay, Tyler.” Her voice was strained, and needy and Tyler’s cock twitched beneath the denim. He hummed and Georgia reached up to rest her hands at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, keep sayin’ my name just like that darlin’ n’ I’ll getcha there, pretty mama. ” His lids lowered, reaching for his belt buckle to undo it. He unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his boxers down his hips, then pulled her leggings and panties down. Georgia swallowed hard and her eyes met his, their mouths only inches apart.

“Ohhh, Tyler.” Georgia whimpered, as he was slow to push his length into her, stilling as he kissed her. He waited for her okay, wanting to be sure that he wasn’t hurting her. With her being pregnant, there were certain positions that had become uncomfortable for her and Tyler wanted nothing more than for her to still feel good about herself. She tugged at the hair at the back of his neck and bit her lip, signaling him to keep going. He was tentative at first but then as he saw a look of pure pleasure wash over her, he loosened up.

“Mama, yur so sexy, y'know that? Fuckin’ beautiful, gorgeous girl. Pretty Peach. ” He accentuated each compliment with a deep thrust, hitting just the right spot to bring her towards the edge of a powerful orgasm. When she crested that peak, Tyler was quick to follow, spilling inside her as his name left her lips in a satisfied moan. They soaked in their shared high for a few moments before they heard footsteps coming up the porch stairs. Tyler pulled his jeans back up, zippering them but not buckling his belt and then he pulled Georgia’s panties and leggings back up.

The dogs came bounding in first as Tyler peeked over the top of the sofa. Jake glanced around and then saw him but not Georgia.

“Shit, sorry T. We interruptin’? He asked, stopping halfway through the door. Sam smacked him gently, trying to get in.

“No, no, you’re fine. We’re just makin’ out like teenagers.” Tyler chuckled and he helped Georgia sit up. She smiled at Jake, who let Sam through the door then.

“Nice. You doin’ the over the pants handy too?” Jake mused and Tyler grabbed a ball, strategically placed by Grits in reach and chucked it at his brother who caught it. “Ah you thought...you thought my reflexes were shit. I fly planes at supersonic speeds you ding-dong.”

“Why do you boys always use the most childish insults?” Sam asked, poking Jake in the ribs. He winced and whipped around to tickle her. Tyler smirked as she collapsed in Jake’s arms and against the front door.

“Well sayin’ ding-dong in front of kids is probably better than cocksucker.” Jake chuckled as he continued to tickle her. She swore and he captured her lips with his.

“You say that too, though.” Georgia said from the couch and Tyler raised a brow.

“Well, yeah, but Kenny used to yell at us if we swore in the house. So we reserved the really bad ones for out in the barn or on trail rides. Sometimes when we were pennin’ too.” Tyler explained and Jake had ceased his comical assault on his fiance. She was breathing heavily as she hung off of Jake. Tyler rose and Georgia grabbed for his belt, attempting and failing to hide the fact that it was still unbuckled. Jake threw his head back in a loud roar of laughter.

“Oh my god, you were straight up fuckin’ before we came in, weren’t you! T! She’s already pregnant!” Jake cackled.

“I’m gonna throw somethin’ else at’cha boy. We’re all adults here. I am allowed to bang my wife while she’s pregnant, thank you VERY much.” Tyler said, buckling his belt. He gazed over at Jake and his tone fell flat. “I’m sure you’ll be tryin’a do the same thing with Samantha. No offense, hun.”

“None taken, Tyler. No, in fact, we were just discussing babies. Weren’t we Jake?” Sam said with a wide smirk. Jake’s nostrils flared and his eyes widened, surprised at Sam’s response but a little proud of her for it. This was the Sam he knew.

“Well, Jakey, if you need me to tell ya any tricks, I got a one hundred percent success rate, so.” Tyler mused and Jake's mouth fell open in a smile. Georgia couldn’t help the laughter that came from her.

“You cocky motherfucker.” Jake scoffed and blinked a few times before crossing the room and grabbing his brother’s shirt. Tyler laughed and let Jake pull him around a little, their noses touching.

“You gonna kiss me, sweetheart?” I see why you joined the Navy.” Tyler joked and Jake pushed him back.

“That’d be the most hillbilly ass shit. We’d get hung for it.” Jake punched Tyler lightly in his chest and Tyler reached and took a hold of Jake, flipping him around and pretending to choke him out from behind. Jake fake gagged and felt to the floor and then they both laughed raucously again, all the while Sam and Georgia doing nothing but watching their significant others. Tyler helped his brother back up and then they shook hands.

“Hey, you wanna come with us to check out a horse?” Tyler asked as their breathing returned to normal. Jake glanced at Sam and she nodded.

“Sure. Where are we headed?” Jake asked. “And should we leave the dogs here?”

“Yeah, they can all stay. Think that might be good. Sounded like this horse was kinda weird. It’s in Cleo Springs? It’s ‘bout an hour n’a half.” Tyler said. He motioned to the stairs. “We’re just gonna...change real quick.” Tyler smirked and threw his keys at Jake, who caught them and tipped his head.

“I’ll go start the truck.” Jake said and Sam made sure that the pups were all settled and happy. They’d had a nice long walk, so they’d all sleep for a while. Dustin could let them out when he came back later that evening.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

It had been a quick drive, considering there weren’t many people on the roads with it being the holidays and kids were on vacation from school. When they pulled up, Tyler scrunched his nose and glanced at Georgia.

“This place is a shithole, Gee.” He said softly, reaching for her hand. She looked around, having texted the woman, Taylor, that they were on their way about an hour ago. She said she’d be there, and she was coming from the back of the property. Georgia put her jacket on and Tyler ran to the passenger side, helping her down from the truck as it was decently tall. The woman shook Georgia and Tyler’s hands and then nodded at Jake and Sam. She was a bit awkward and she seemed very nervous, Georgia observed.

It was well into the afternoon and they didn’t want to be here terribly long with the sun getting ready to set. The horse was in a round pen at the way back of the property. The woman led them back to where she kept the horse, and they passed a few other corrals on the way with other horses in them that looked well fed and well kept. Maybe the place was just old. As they approached, Georgia noticed the woman fold her arms across her chest.

“He’s pretty reactive. Don’t go in with him.” The woman said and Georgia stepped a little closer. He was a dark color, maybe a roan, but she couldn’t quite see all of him.

“Not a problem. Tell me a little bit about him?” Everyone stood close to the round pen and the horse stayed at the back away from them, his muscles twitching every so often. He was thin, and Georgia could count every rib, but he had muscle across his back and hind end so he wasn’t quite what she would consider neglected...yet. He needed weight though and when he turned his head, Georgia’s mouth dropped open and she grabbed for Tyler. He had a freeze brand. He was a mustang, and Georgia had always wanted one, since she was a little girl.

“Got him from the BLM holding facility at Pauls Valley. He was great for the first few months and was doin’ well and then he bucked me off and I hurt my back pretty bad. He’s never been aggressive but when he gets scared he just panics. In all honestly, miss, I really need to get rid of him...” The woman said, with tears in her eyes. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.” She said, sniffling and walking toward her house. The four of them watched her go and Georgia peered through the panels. The horse sniffed at the ground and then he jumped, hitting the panels and scaring himself.

“Tyler...” Georgia leaned against the panel, watching the horse as he trembled.

“Gee...you’re very pregnant.” Tyler cautioned as his hand met the back of her neck. He squeezed slightly, as if to try to rub some sense into her, but he knew her decision was already made up.

“Tyler...please. He needs help.” Georgia's voice was pleading as she turned to him and looked up at him with her pretty blue eyes. Jake and Sam stepped toward the corral.

“And you cannot get injured. My kid’s in there. I can’t lose you.” Tyler said, tone flat.

“I won’t handle him. He needs to decompress anyway. I bet just takin’ him outta here would help.” Georgia reasoned. Jake glanced over at her and his eyes widened.

“That thing looks more like a bronc than a ridin’ horse...” He said softly, pulling Sam a little closer. The sun was going down quick.

“And what if he won’t go in the barn?” Tyler asked, his hands going to his hips.

“He doesn’t need to. He’s a mustang. He already lives outside by the looks of it. We’ve got panels. We can build him a small pen. He needs to be around other horses.” She suggested and Tyler shook his head.

“We? You mean me’n’Boone’n’Jake.” He said, slightly annoyed sounding as he motioned to Jake, who could see exactly where this was going. Just like Sam, Georgia would get what she wanted, one way or another.

“Yes...” Georgia said almost apologetically. Tyler sighed heavily and ran his hand over his face and scratched his beard. He stepped away from her for a moment, his heart pounding. He knew the right thing to do was to save this horse, but he was terrified that it might hurt Georgia. He would just have to be strict with her. He sighed again and then turned back to her, his hands on his hips, the classically annoyed Tyler look about him. Georgia bit her bottom lip.

“ And my bleedin’ fuckin’ heart can’t say no to you .” He said, displeased, but he stepped back toward her and pulled her into an embrace. “You’re not touchin’ that horse until Jaycen is born though. Dustin and I will feed him and muck the pen. We’ll go home and get somethin’ set up, and I’ll come back with Lennon to get him, okay? I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how I’m gettin’ him on a trailer.”

“Have I told you that you’re husband of the year?” Georgia asked with a wide smirk.

“Yup, keep tellin’ me darlin’. At this rate, I should be husband of the fuckin’ century.” Tyler said and he glanced at Jake, who just shrugged his shoulders. He pulled Sam in a little tighter as he glanced back at the horse.

The woman, Taylor, came back out of her house and she seemed in better spirits.Tyler motioned for Jake and Sam to head back to the truck. Jake took the keys and started it, letting the diesel warm up.

“Taylor, I’ve talked to my husband and if you’d like, we can take him off your hands.” Georgia said and the woman looked as if relief washed over her in that moment.

“Are you sure? You have a place for him?” She asked wearily. She probably couldn’t believe her luck.

“We can come up with somethin’ by tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of land.” Georgia said. Taylor took her hands in a thankful gesture and then hugged Georgia, careful of her belly.

“I don’t want anythin’ for him...you’d be doin’ me a mighty big favor. I..I don’t have a trailer.” Taylor said apologetically. Tyler shook his head and placed his hand back on the back of Georgia’s neck, squeezing gently. He rubbed between her shoulder blades and then pressed her toward the truck.

“We’ve got one. We can come pick him up tomorrow.” Tyler said, smiling at the woman. She thanked them and then as they were walking back to his truck the woman mentioned one last thing.

“This is great. I really appreciate your help.I’ll find his BLM paperwork so you can have it. His name is Ducati.”

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

“Y'never know...maybe he'll turn into Jaycen's horse.” Georgia said as they drove home in the dark. Tyler’s knuckles were white on the wheel and Jake could tell by how hard his foot was on the gas that he was mad.

“If you can get that thing safe enough to tote around our kid and rope off it...I'll buy you ten more. You know I'd do anythin’ for you but I'd be on my fuckin’ knees like a slave if you could get that done because honestly, Gee, I don’t have any hope for that horse. He’s too fuckin’ skittish. He couldn’t even be a buckin’ horse like that. Fuckin’ Ducati...whatta name.” Tyler’s tone was clearly annoyed and Georgia knew that so she stayed quiet as Tyler continued to vent his frustration. “And for what it’s worth, I’m tryin’a not make all this harder while we got a kid on the way. You are damn near seven months pregnant, Gee! It’s a damn good thing Jake is around to take some of the load offa me because I’m gettin’ fuckin’ exhausted. God, Gee, I love you, I do...but I just want a few things to slow down.”

Everyone was silent then, Jake glancing out the back driver side window, Sam laying against him and curled up. She gazed up at Jake who gave her a small, worried smile. She saw Georgia’s eyes in the rearview and knitted her brows for her. Georgia bit her lip and glanced over at Tyler. He huffed in frustration and then he shot her a quick look. He reached across the center console and Jake observed his brother again, interested in what he was going to do next. And what he did surprised Jake.

“I’m sorry. I lost my temper. I didn’t mean to. I’m just worried bout’cha, darlin’. I love you.” Tyler’s voice became significantly softer and he took several deep breaths. This was Tyler healed and Jake was overjoyed for him. This was a much different Tyler than the one he’d been in the years that Georgia wasn’t with him. Tyler had worked on himself so much, trying to get control of his anger in that time and it had clearly worked. Georgia’s eyes were misty as she stared at him.

“I love you too. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you into makin’ a decision. I just...” Georgia said and Tyler squeezed her hand.

“No, don’t you apologize. It’s another mouth to feed and muck but he needs to get outta there. You’re only thinkin’ of the animal. That’s why people ask you for help with their horses. You care more about the animals than anythin’ else. You’re such a good girl, Gee.” Tyler praised her and Georgia felt a wave of heat wash over her. His smile was warm as he glanced over at her again in between flicking on his turn signal and checking the signs for the exit. Everyone was silent again as Tyler drove through Stillwater and toward their home. When they got back it was a little past dinner, so they whipped something up quickly and ate.

“Hey, we can clean up, you guys go rest. You got a lot to do tomorrow.” Jake offered and Tyler hugged his brother and thanked him quietly. Tyler headed upstairs, his limp evident now that he was at the end of his energy for the day. Georgia thanked Jake and Sam and then followed her husband. He had stopped at Jaycen’s room, appreciating the crib and the chair and the color scheme that had finally been finished. Everything was ready for the baby. But now, suddenly, Tyler felt crunched for time. Georgia waited for him to turn and he smiled weakly before heading into their room. He unbuckled his belt and stood for a moment, at the foot of the bed. Georgia stayed at the threshold of the room for a few minutes before she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t realize how tired you were too.” Georgia whispered. Tyler turned and he sat on the edge of the bed, He pulled her between his legs and she placed her hands on his shoulders. She reached up and ran her fingers through the hair at his temples. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

“I suddenly feel fuckin’ nervous. I don’t know why. And that horse just...he reminds me’a you...before. Spooky, skittish. I just get worried...” Tyler explained, his eyes going misty as he gazed up into beautiful and sad blue.

“Oh, Tyler...” She guided his head toward her chest, wrapping her arms around his head. His arms wound around her waist. She spoke softly as she caressed the back of his head, feeling the spot where there was scar tissue from stitches that didn’t quite heal properly. “I’m so sorry...I’m sorry I put that distrust in you and...and I know..I know I’m gonna be makin’ up for it forever but please...know I’m not gonna run anymore. I’m here to stay. I promise. I promise you I will stay. No matter how hard it all gets, I’m stayin’. I wouldn’t dare take your son away from you. Not after I lost my father. I will not let this boy grow up without you...without his father.” Georgia felt tears streaming down her cheeks and Tyler could hear the trembling in her voice as she made her vows to him. They hadn’t done marriage vows, but he was counting this as hers. And he knew she'd probably count them as hers too.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Tyler decided that Georgia should go with him to pick Ducati up. Jake and Dustin had worked in the morning setting up a pen that was close enough to the barn that they could muck it out easily and he could at least get against the barn to block some wind until he got used to the barn. The pen was also in a spot where they could just pressure him off the trailer and into it without him escaping. Lennon sat in the back with Grits, who had decided he needed to come along for the ride because he didn’t get to yesterday. Lennon could rope damn near anything and Tyler would even say he was better than him, even though Lennon wouldn’t admit that. He looked up to Tyler. So they both brought ropes in case they needed them.

Taylor was there with the BLM paperwork for Georgia to sign, showing that she now owned the horse. Tyler backed the truck and trailer up to the pen and they opened the gate to the pen and the back door of the trailer so that they only place Ducati could go was around the pen or into the trailer. The horse snorted and Taylor decided she would go back into her house and let them do whatever they needed to do to get him on the trailer. She didn’t think she’d be very helpful with how nervous she was.

Ducati was a beautiful bay roan and now in the morning sun, Georgia could see that. He needed some groceries and some brushing but she knew with time, he’d fill out with muscle and be a good little horse. She hoped for that at least. Ducati was rounded up from the Pryor Mountain Herd Management Area in Montana and brought down to the Pauls Valley holding Pens in Oklahoma. He was a little over fourteen hands, so the size of a large adult pony. He was seven years old and castrated when he was adopted by Taylor. The gelding sniffed the air and he stepped toward the trailer without hesitation. Tyler’s eyes widened and he held his breath, as did Lennon and Georgia as the little bay gelding jumped onto the stock trailer. It took all of five minutes from start to finish and Georgia had a feeling if Taylor had been standing there she would’ve burst out into tears, knowing that the horse she loved on for so long had decided he’d rather hop on a trailer and leave.

Lennon secured the back door and Ducati was quiet as they started up the truck. They headed back to Stillwater, mustang in tow. The entire ride, there was not a peep from Ducati. Georgia glanced over at one point, Tyler meeting her gaze.

“He knew we came to help him, Ty.” She said softly and he reached over the center console like he had last night, taking one of her hands in his. He agreed wholeheartedly.

When they arrived home, Tyler backed the trailer in and Ducati walked calmly off the trailer and into his new pen. He sniffed the air as they closed the gate and pulled the truck and trailer away. Jake and Sam had come out, as well as Dustin, and Ophelia had finished riding her horses. Georgia held her hand out, through the panel fencing and Tyler cautioned her, but he had no need to. Ducati walked over, touched her hand gently and then poked his nose toward her belly. His ears flicked back and forth and he let out a huge breath as if to say ‘okay, I’m okay now.’

“That ain’t the same horse.” Jake said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No Jake, he just realized the same thing that we did. He’s safe here. He could feel it immediately.” Sam said softly as she hooked her arms around one of his biceps. Sam was right. Jake had felt the same feeling of comfort wash over him as soon as he’d stepped onto the property.

Ducati inched closer to Georgia. He very carefully, very gently touched her belly with his opposable top lip and she felt Jaycen kick then. She took Tyler’s hand and placed it on her belly, as Ducati repeated his actions, as did Jaycen inside her womb.

“That’s crazy.” Tyler said, his eyes wide as he watched the interaction between the supposedly skittish horse and his pregnant wife, or rather, his unborn son.

“I think he’s pickin’ his rider.” Georgia said, glancing up at Tyler with a smile.

“Yeah, well, he’s got a ways to go before they’re both ready for that, but...” Tyler reached out and rubbed the gelding’s nose very carefully. Ducati pricked his ears and nickered softly, though Tyler surmised it was not at him. It was definitely at Jaycen. “I guess sometimes all you need is a change of scenery, huh, bud?”

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