#no shade on anyone. it's the system not you. but we wear ignorance like a badge of honor.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Doing Thanksgiving right. Had 3 boomers call me anti-american and a communist because I made a comment on an Instagram reel about how Americans are getting dumber, and I tagged all three and said, "It's Thanksgiving. Don't y'all have a nephew with blue hair to go call slurs?"

All 3 blocked me. No survivors.

[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from cis men? How are you not advocating a belief in people being tainted by the way they were raised* which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially butch trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic twists that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

*socialization is real and the idea pre-dates TERFs who incorrectly use the idea that to say that because a trans woman may or may not** have been pressured by external forces to play sportsball she must be hardcoded to be a sex offender, which is completely ridiculous

**no one can be said to have the same experiences, it's a generalization

[granulesofsand]

Rice Crispies: Switching Headaches

I can feel the shifting in our brain when we switch. Right now I feel heat in our temples kinda like our ears are itchy. The back of our head is warmer than usual. It feels like putty on a good day, rice crispies on a bad one. The more it snaps, the more it hurts later.

Not everyone in my system (or metasystem) can feel it, so I want to document what I’ve noticed. I know some of us don’t feel the pain, but I’m not sure how much of the lack is plain ignoring it.

Amnesia usually adds more of a putty feel, where I can’t remember and it’s not distressing, whereas forced memory sharing is instant crackles. It’s less of a change between similar people, especially if our amnesia barriers are thin, so it tends to hurt less if at all.

Switching in shades —similar member to similar member until you get to the right person — doesn’t make it less of a change, but the speed gives our brain room to adjust without the popping.

Gaining new people can hurt, especially if they’re very different from whoever was fronting before them. Having heavy dissociation helps the putty, but it’s more like less pain than no pain.

We do dissociate away from the body so as not to feel the pain at all, and we’re learning how to do that without accidentally shoving someone else forward to feel it instead. It’s a big moment when each of us learns to pull away without switching with anyone.

We can switch intentionally now, to an extent — not everyone is reachable and not all of us can switch in or out at will — and we’ve built up some tolerance/immunity from practice. It’s not strictly unpleasant while it’s happening, but it can lead to migraines after we pass our threshold.

Along the lines of migraines, we wear special rose-tinted glasses for light and make time to step away from front and let the body rest. Sleep helps, dissociation helps, I imagine anything else that helps with migraines would work (for us, at least).

It’s super valid if you don’t have the same sensation, either because it’s different or because it’s not there at all. Every alter in every system has the potential to be different, and that’s a beautiful thing.

[king-candy-lovemail]

ACE VENTURA X READER chapter 12

warnings: just a guy being creepy

milton perked up as you walked towards the table he sat at. he scrambled out of his seat, pulling your chair out for you to sit.

"h-here you are, y/n!" he said, albeit at a higher volume than you wished. you chuckled nervously, slipping into the seat and pushing it as close to the table as it would go.

milton stared at you with a dazed, starstruck expression for a moment. an obvious blush spread across his face, turning his sickly pale skin to a shade of red.

"so, um... what did you wanna talk about, y/n?" he asked, messing with the tablecloth. you took a moment to really take in milton's appearance.

thick black frames decorated his pale face, his hazel eyes had a glossy sheen over them at all times as if his eyes had been glazed over. he had greasy brown hair which was slicked back from gel, but had turned more or less oily. his skin was broken out slightly in acne, the pimples providing a contrast to his sheet-white face. he had no facial hair whatsoever, but sported thick, untamed eyebrows.

in a moment, you noticed his hair. it wasn't usually gelled, was it? he normally just wore it for the greasy mess it was.

then it hit you. he wasn't wearing his glasses, either.

"milton," you began, voice wavering, "where are your glasses?" you prayed the answer was something other than what you were expecting.

his redness somehow burned darker, and his gaze fell to the silverware in front of him. "w-well... i, um, i... i wanted to, erm... i just wanted to l-look how i... thought you liked," milton choked out. you wanted to cry. you were a good person, why was this happening to you?!

feigning innocence, you raised your eyebrow. "how i like? what do you mean, i've never dated anyone! how do you know what i like?" you asked him, keeping a calm, even tone as you spoke. milton almost choked on his saliva, and his face looked like a beet.

"i... ok, y/n, i can't hide anything from you. i've... seen the guy that you hang around with, and i... i see the way he looks at you. i... i thought that, well, maybe if i looked more like him, you'd... like me?" milton stammered and fell over his words as his explanation dragged on. you felt sick at this point.

sucking in a deep breath, you forced yourself to grin. "you look lovely, milton! a-and that guy... he's just a friend." you really didn't want to say it. but you knew that it was the truth, and that it was what milton wanted to hear.

milton swallowed hard. "y/n, i know he's not. i've been seeing you... going home with him. and i... it breaks my heart." you cringed at how milton's voice broke. why did he assume that your only option was him, anyways?!

you acted as though you were horrified. "no, no! oh god, never! that's just the guy whose been, um... sharing his car with me. we live in the same apartment complex, and we figured ridesharing would work best for both of us," you explained nervously. milton scowled for a moment before his face broke into a smile.

"oh, wonderful! so this means that you are... single?" you grimaced as milton's smile twisted into a dark, foreboding smirk. you could instantly feel something was wrong, but ignored the instinct.

you forced out a laugh, maybe too loudly. "yep! single as can be, you know!" you could feel your stomach sink further, as if lead weight had been pumped into your system. you began to feel dizzy.

milton's twisted smirk grew even larger as he reached across the table to grab your hands. they were cold, as ice cold as the blood in your veins. you pretended to enjoy it. you needed to get out of here, but finding snuffy was more important.

"oh, y/n! i knew this day would come! just you and me, together! i knew you'd change your mind after arthur was out of the picture!" milton whispered to you gleefully. you felt horror creep up your spine at his words. holy shit. there's no way he actually...

as the waiter came to take your orders, milton's dark disposition dropped almost immediately. he let go of your hands, quickly pulling his own back to his body. "y'know, he always just treated you so horribly. i guess it was just karma coming to him!" you prayed the waiter could sense your terror as you turned to look at them.

"u-um... i'll just take a water, please," you stammered. the chills down your back were nearly impossible to ignore. the waiter seemed to ignore your anxious disposition, instead turning to milton.

"and for you, mr. fieldpool?" the waiter asked, leaning in towards him.

your brain became even more fuzzy. fieldpool? that's arthur's last name, not milton's! milton's last name is... his last name is...

you racked your mind for any recollection of milton's last name. had he ever even introduced himself to you?

you were now rethinking every moment spent with milton. when had you first met him? at work, you knew for sure. but when had he introduced himself?

"oh, please! fieldpool is not a name which i'm associated with anymore," milton's words fell out clumsily, nervously scrambling to hint at the server to shut up.

the waiter looked at milton in confusion, before looking back to you. they let out a quiet ohhh before quickly walking away.

you stared at milton, breathless. it was as if you had been punched in the gut.

and the next statement given by a passing waiter nearly ripped out your heart.

"mr. fieldpool, how have you been doing since your father's passing?"

inside of the restaurant in a shoddily-made disguise sat ace at a nearby table, listening in on the conversation. he held a newspaper with eyeholes cut out, and sported an obnoxiously tall top hat with a monacle and suit.

ace furrowed his brow, looking down at the table. "arthur is milton's father? arthur is milton's father. ARTHUR IS MILTON'S  FATHER?!" he whisper-shouted to himself. he pushed his chair out suddenly, causing a commotion. he raced out of the restaurant, knocking into waiters and tables, knocking dirty dishes out of servers' hands and off tables. you and milton both spun around suddenly, and you immediately knew who the interruption was caused by.

you groaned and covered your face before milton turned his attention back to you. "what's wrong, y/n?" he questioned, and you slammed your hands down on the table suddenly, faking a grin. 

"nothing! everything is just great!" you hissed through your fake smile. milton frowned, tilting his head.

"y/n, are you lying to me?" his creepy demeanor came back, and at this point, you wanted to scream.

"no, no! let's, um, take a walk outside!" you blurted hurriedly. grabbing milton's hand, you rushed out of the restaurant.

dammit, ace. now i've raised too much suspicion!

[aries-writingblog]

Enemy Fire: 4

Summary: There’s a new kid in town, and she’s got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd x F. Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: language, mention of burns, typical sibling rivalries and insults

AN: Photos from Pinterest

Jason scowled at the line of products in front of him. A grating pop tune played over the store’s intercom system, only adding to his irritation.

He winced at the pull of his skin as he lifted his hand. White bandages were wrapped around his wrist— protecting the burned skin from more damage.

It was the only place that had gotten burned, at least. The only place his skin was exposed. The rest of his body was covered in mottled bruises of various shades, thanks to the new mystery lady of Gotham.

Jason’s head tilted back, to stare up at the ceiling. Contemplating his own stupidity.

She had been fast. Too fast to land any hits on. She knew her strengths and how to best play them.

So, she had to have had formal training. From who? Where did she even come from?

Too many questions were unanswered. His visibility was still low. Even after waiting for her to come to him.

He had a partial face now, but she hadn’t shown up on any of his searches. Not even a driver’s license. Roy had gotten back to him quickly— no luck on the meta database, as he suspected.

Artemis had reached out to a few of her contacts, as well. Jason woke to several voicemails from her, all explaining that she could not find a scrap of her identity.

She was a ghost.

Whether she had popped up recently or had been there all along… he wasn’t sure.

He had to get rid of her fast, before anyone else took notice and started asking questions.

“Jason, hey.” His eyes snapped open, landing on none other than who he wanted to avoid. Dick Grayson. Jason tossed the pack of Tylenol back onto the shelf, keeping his head lowered. “Hey, wait up!”

Jason groaned, stopping as Dick swung around to stand in front of him. Blocking the path of escape. He shoved his hands into his jacket pocket, hoping his brother would ignore the obvious white bandage.

“What is it, Dick?” He asked, his voice exhausted. Hearing quiet voices and more footsteps behind him, Jason turned. A manic, half laugh escaped his chest. “Oh, you have the rest of the gremlins. Perfect.”

Damian slowed to a stop, peering up at the tallest of the Wayne children. Somehow, even though he had to look up at most people, Damian Wayne always made it feel as though he was looking down his nose at everyone. His sharp, green eyes filled with malice- like annoyance.

“Always nice to see you, Todd.” He greeted, cocking an eyebrow.

Jason hummed, unbelieving; He turned his head to the third invasive species that seemed to have latched to his ankles.

“Replacement.” Jason nodded. Tim scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest.

“I resent that. Truly.” He mused.

“Are we just going to stand here and lob passive aggressive comments at each other all day?” Damian snapped, steadily losing his patience with his siblings.

Dick frowned; While the other two had been keeping Jason occupied, he himself had taken the moment to perform a quick once over.

His under eyes were dark, but his features were alert. He was wearing a hoodie and his leather jacket— he brought his motorcycle, not his car— so, the ruffled hair was just from his helmet. A sliver of white fabric peeked from his left pocket.

“I don’t know, this wasn’t my idea.” Jason replied, his eyes swinging to stare pointedly at Dick. His eyes jumped from their resting place, back to a safe looking area.

All three stared at him now. Damian had his usual impatience, Jason’s typical annoyance, and Tim, well, Tim always looked like he was enjoying the discord.

“I wanted to let you know we were thinking of all getting together next week to eat at the Manor. We wanted to invite you out.” Dick offered, keeping his cool.

Jason pursed his lips. He couldn’t count the number of times Dick and Bruce had invited him to the Manor since his revival. Well, technically after he had gotten his mind straight and he wasn’t half hanging on the rails of sanity.

And though he didn’t mind going to the Manor now, he didn’t like to spend a prolonged amount of time there. And he didn’t want to see anything from before his death— no photos, no old bedrooms, no old uniforms (Dick).

He only went for the occasional dinner. Even then, he sat in the discomfort of the memories burying him alive. Pressing on his chest.

“No thanks.” Jason decided, leaning his back against the shelf.

“I told you this was stupid.” Tim intoned, tilting his head.

Tim had, explicitly told him those exact words, not seven minutes beforehand. When they spotted Jason, minding his own business in the medicinal aisle of the grocery store.

He and Damian had been quite content to leave the man to his own, and continue on their way. Dick, however, got the faintest itch to speak to, and check in on, Jason. An itch he had to scratch.

“It never hurts to offer.” Dick explained, rushing to stop Tim’s sentence before Jason or Damian could create chaos with a few words. “Just let us know, if you change your mind.”

“Doubt it.” Damian snickered.

Jason’s head rolled, staring down at him.

Damian didn’t flinch— keeping his eyes locked in on Jason’s intimidating form.

“Listen, little man, I’m not above crushing your face in this grocery store.” Jason smiled, condescendingly.

Damian returned the grin, which was a slightly more disturbing sight.

“I dare you.”

“Are we really threatening each other in public?” Tim asked, unimpressed by his sibling’s rivalries.

“I feel like the Spider-Man meme.” Dick grinned, glancing at everyone in the small circle. He snapped into the position, pointing at Tim. His features laced with disappointment at the group as they all frowned and cocked their eyebrows. “Nobody?”

“You’re an embarrassment, Grayson.” Damian deadpanned, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Even a broken clock, I suppose.” Tim agreed. Damian snarled. Jason snorted, blocking a chuckle from escaping his throat. He bit down on his lip and continued his shopping.

Dick groaned as Tim and Damian launched into another argument, their third of the day. As he rolled his eyes, they landed on the end of the aisle.

A familiar face stood, comparing two boxes of bandages. Dick stood up straight.

What the hell were the odds?

The woman from the Narrows.

She tossed one pack into her cart, placing the other back to It’s shelf and continuing her journey.

“I’ll be right back.” Dick murmured, unconcerned whether or not his family actually heard him over the bickering.

Jason turned his head, watching through narrowed eyes as Dick disappeared around the corner.

Dick went the long way around— taking the opposite end of the aisle. He went down four aisles, making a slow path back up to find her. He picked up a couple random objects in his arms, just in time to turn onto the correct aisle.

He glanced down to his palm, mouthing a word, then looking back up to the shelves before him. His brows furrowed in concentration.

The woman seemed unbothered by his presence, pulling what she needed down. Dick acted quickly, finding a new product to add to the menagerie in his arms. He then moved to continue down the aisle.

“There a reason you’re following me?” Her voice stopped him cold in his tracks.

Which time was she inferring to: now in the store or the time before when he was a vigilante?

Dick turned to look at her. She still had her eyes down, crossing items off a paper list. He couldn’t get a good look at them like this. He’d have to use the old Grayson charm.

So he plastered on a shy smile, keeping his features soft.

“Sorry. I… I, uhm…” He trailed off, staring at her profile.

Her head turned, eyes meeting his. Normal colored. No flashing orange, not even a hint of the hue.

“You aren’t the type to stumble over words because of a pretty face.” She stated, seeing directly through his game. She moved forward— Dick took a step back for every one of hers. Until she had him backed up against the shelf. “That pick up schtick isn’t gonna work on me.”

Dick, having been caught, dropped the shyness and went for a bolder strategy. His grin widened, showcasing his dimples. Instead of hesitant glances, he met her eyes head on. Full confidence bubbling to the surface.

“Oh, and you know my type?” He teased, attempting to pull another reaction from her. Yn hummed, contemplatively, her eyes flicking down his form and back up.

“Very well, actually.” She murmured.

“So, you would be opposed to actually going out and finding out who I was?” He asked, biting down on his lip. Hoping she would take the bait.

“You aren’t the mysterious type, either,” She responded, breezily. Leaning to the right, she snatched a bottle of shampoo from the shelf and tossed it to her cart. Backing away, she wiggled her fingers in a goodbye wave. “Try again on some other poor soul.”

She turned the corner and disappeared. Never even glancing back to see if he was still staring. He was, in fact. He was still staring hard enough that two minutes later, when Tim rounded the corner and found him, Dick didn’t even respond the first time.

“Dick, are you ready to go?” Tim repeated. He pulled to a stop in front of his older brother, brows knitting together. He nodded to the items Dick cradled in his arms. “What are you doing?”

Dick finally looked down. An orange loofah, a pack of makeup brushes, and shampoo.

This was slightly compromising.

“Just… nothing. I guess.” He mumbled. Tim took another glance at the items in his hands before stepping back.

“We’re ready when you are… after you get done with whatever it is you’re doing.” He gestured to the strange collection one last time. Turning on his heel, he left him there, muttering under his breath: “This family gets weirder every day.”

[bb-8]

Tech Savvy

Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary:  You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.

The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.

You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.

Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.

You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.

You feel your face heat at the thought.

(What? His goggles are cute.)

The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –

“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.

“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”

“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”

“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.

“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”

You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.

He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.

“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”

“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”

You fumble over your next words.

“That’s – it’s entirely different.”

“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.

“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”

Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.

You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.

You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.

“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.

Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.

You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.

And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.

Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.

“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.

“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.

You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.

Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.

“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.

Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.

Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.

“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.

And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.

“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”

The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.

“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.

“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.

“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”

Come on, Tech.

“Would you like a chair–.”

“Stars, Tech, I like you!”

Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.

So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.

Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.

And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.

Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.

The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.

You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–

‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’

You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.

You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.

“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.

His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.

“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.

Tech coughs slightly.

“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.

Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.

“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.

You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)

Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.

But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.

You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.

“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.

He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.

“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”

Huh.

“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.

“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”

“Very much so.”

A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.

You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.

You pull away to gauge his reaction.

“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.

“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.

He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.

“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.

“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”

“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.

Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.

Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.

And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.

“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.

You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.

And this, this is when you start to worry.

Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?

Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.

“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.

It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.

His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.

You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.

And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.

He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.

Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.

“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.

You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.

Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.

“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.

You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.

And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.

He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.

“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”

His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.

“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”

Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.

Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.

You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.

He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.

“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.

“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.

“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”

You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.

Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.

“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.

“Selfishness?” you guess.

Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.

“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.

“In me,” you urge. “Now.”

He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.

“Lie back then.”

Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.

“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”

Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.

“You’re tight,” he grits out.

He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.

“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”

Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.

“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”

“Fuck –,” you whine.

His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.

“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.

“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.

“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.

Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.

He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.

You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.

“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.

“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.

“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”

“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”

You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.

You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.

And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.

In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.

“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.

“Please do not act so surprised by that.”

++++++++++++++++++++

You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.

Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.

“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”

“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”

“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”

The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ San: The Calm After The Storm. (Oneshot)

Genre: angst, fluff, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Reader (fem)

Word count: 3.5k

Inspiration: Fifty Shades Freed

Warnings: profanities, alcohol, blood, guns, death, violence.

"What the fuck is this?!" you asked through gritted teeth, throwing the freshly printed photos at San's chest.

Your husband didn't have to look at them to know what you were talking about; his men had already reported to him that you watched the entire recording of him seducing his... target. 

"Babe—"

"No, San!" you yelled, cutting him off. "This is the fifth fucking time!"

"But the other one time wasn't about this."

"The other three, now four times were!" he was really getting on your nerves.

"Why are you overreacting?" he questioned with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Y/N, you knew I had no choice."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control your anger. "I understand that you had to seduce her. I know that it's your job," you tried to say calmly, but your voice was rising. "What I don't understand is why you let her slip her fucking hand into your pants after you got the damn information that you wanted!"

San visibly gulped; he didn't expect you to be this angry. He thought he was well prepared to face you after mentally forming the situation in his head. He knew you'd be pissed, but not to this extent.

"I pushed her away though," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, after like, five minutes," you retort. "And the worst part was that you were clearly enjoying yourself in those five minutes! Do you know her or something?"

San sighed deeply, ignoring the question. "Babe, look, I'm sorry," he apologized, not sure about what else he could say to calm you down. Your husband took your hand in his. "I won't do it again, I promise."

You immediately ripped your hand away from his, rolling your eyes. "That's what you always say, San." He took a deep breath; you were testing his patience and he didn't like people doing that.

"San," you start, "How would you feel if you saw a guy kissing me and I get carried away and let him touch me?"

That struck him. Hard. He would hate it, obviously. San wouldn't even hesitate to put a bullet through the man's head if he touched you in any way.

San's silence gave you the answer. "That's what I thought," you snorted.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," San apologized again. "But I still had to do it and you know that."

"Whatever," you mumbled and turned around, heading to your room; he still didn't understand just how much it hurt you. It was already worse enough that you had to witness him kiss and touch all those women. But witnessing San let another woman touch him in the place where only you're allowed to, not only pissed you off, but also hurt you deeply. As the seducer of the mafia gang, he was literally trained to not get carried away; his only job was to get whatever information was needed. San was a very, very skilled seducer and you knew that damn well. Although he did get carried away a few times, he never let his targets touch him. So you couldn't understand why he let that happen now. You texted Yunho (your bestfriend and San's close friend) to ask about that woman, knowing that he would never lie to you.

Your anger increased when Yunho replied: "Oh, she hooked up with San a couple of times back in high school." You snorted in annoyance; so he let her touch him just because he knew her?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone's notification going off. Your friends were planning to go clubbing tonight as it was a Saturday. You were going to decline, knowing that San wouldn't let you go if he wasn't with you, but you decided against it; you had a plan in mind and you knew it would work.

You ignored San the entire afternoon. He tried to talk to you but you didn't even spare him a glance. He sighed, leaving you alone to cool down.

-

"Where are you going?" San asked, looking at you from head to toe, while your four year old daughter, Minhee, played with some toy aeroplanes.

"Clubbing," you answered without looking at him.

"You're not going anywhere," San said through gritted teeth. "Especially not wearing that." You were wearing denim shorts and a black lace bralette that showed off your cleavage more than you'd usually prefer. You purposely chose this outfit, of course, and he knew that.

"You don't get to decide where I go and what I wear," you stated. You walked over to your daughter, placing a kiss on her head. "Minnie," you called her by her nickname. "Mommy will be back soon, okay?" you said to your little angel before walking out the door.

-

"Y/N! You finally came!" one of your friends yelled, already drunk. She takes your hand and drags you through the crowd of people to get to the bar on the other side. "Three tequila shots for my friend here!"

A while later, you noticed Wooyoung and Mingi at the entrance of the club; you knew San would end up here as soon as he asks Seonghwa or Hongjoong to look after your daughter for the night.

And you were right.

San entered the club, dressed in all black, looking fucking hot. You wanted to go up to him and ask him to fuck you till you see stars; however, you were still pissed and had a plan to execute.

You quickly downed your shots and pulled your friend to join your other friends who were dancing. You danced with them until one of your friends introduced you to some random guys. One of the guys, who you found really good looking, started to dance with you. You noticed San sitting on a barstool, watching everything. At that moment, the guy you were dancing with put his hands on your waist, pulling you close to him, making San nearly break the glass he was holding. Perfect. Your plan was working.

When you glanced at where San was seated, he wasn't there anymore. You glanced around, searching for him until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, dragging you away.

San dragged you downstairs where there were private rooms especially for him and his gang members as they owned this club. He took you to the room belonging to him, locking the door behind him.

"What the fuck were you doing?! How could you let him even lay a finger on you?!" your husband snarled through gritted teeth.

You snorted. "All he did was put his hands on my waist. At least he didn't slip them into my pants and touch me."

San now understood exactly why you did that; you were giving him a taste of his own medicine.

You moved to sit on the sofa, your legs starting to hurt from dancing so much. San kneeled down in front of you, placing his hands on the bare skin of your thigh. "Babe, I'm sorry. I'm an asshole, I know. But please understand that chick meant nothing to me. I didn't even know her."

You pushed his hands away from you. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying," he lied.

"You hooked up with her in high school," you deadpanned.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He just fucked up again. "Y/N, I didn't mean to—"

You stood up from the couch. "No, fuck you, I'm done with you and your fucking bullshit," you snarled angrily, cutting him off, before making your way back to your friends.

"They might take this route instead, we can't predict what they'll do," Jongho said while moving around the meeting room; he was in charge of today's meeting on some mafia gang who had tried to hack into your gang's system to get information on your international drug deals.

During the meeting, your daughter's nanny called you. You declined the call, sending her a text that you were in a meeting. She called again and you ignored it, thinking she wouldn't have seen your message. When she called for the third time, you excused yourself from the meeting.

"I'm in a meeting, Jina, what is—"

"Mrs. Choi," she sobbed. "T-They took Minnie..."

"What?! Who?!" you felt your stomach churn uneasily.

"I-I don't know," Jina cried, "They beat me up at the park till I passed out and t-took her away. They said they would c-contact you."

"Where are you?" you asked.

"At a nearby hospital," she said. "An old couple brought me here."

"I'll be there in five," you said and hung up. You were just about to enter the meeting room, but an unknown number called you. You picked up, assuming it was your daughter's kidnappers since you never got calls from unknown numbers.

"You have a beautiful daughter, Choi Y/N," the man said. "I bet she would look even better with a slit throat, yeah?"

"Who are you? What do you want?" you asked, voice laced with venom.

The man chuckled. "It's simple, your fucking gang has to pay for my loss."

"Just tell me what the fuck you want!"

"Fifteen billion won in cash," he said. "That's the amount I lost because of you motherfuckers. Now listen to me carefully if you don't want your precious child dead. You aren't going to tell anyone about this. Not a word to your boss, Kim Hongjoong. Not a word to your pathetic husband, Choi San. I have eyes watching you, so don't try to act smart. I know you're having a meeting right now about a gang who tried to hack into your system." your eyes widened; how the fuck does this guy know? "I'm giving you three hours," he continued. "If you don't get the money within that time, I'll kill your daughter. Anyway, you'll find a black van waiting for you outside the bank. Your time starts now, Mrs. Choi. Tick tock, tick tock," he chuckled before hanging up.

"Fuck!" you yelled, tears spilling from your eyes. You ran your hand through your hair, trying to calm down; you felt like breaking down but you had to stay strong for your daughter. You wiped your tears before making your way back to the meeting room.

"I'm sorry, I'm feeling quite unwell," you mumbled, quickly collecting your stuff. "Please continue without me."

"Y/N, should I take you home?" San asked; you both still haven't made up from the fight you had a week ago. He tried to talk to you a few days ago, but it resulted in a bigger fight.

"No!" you half-yelled in frustration, startling some of the people in the room. "I'm fine," you said in a softer tone. You quickly left before San could follow you.

-

"Ah, Mrs. Choi, how can I help you?" the bank manager asked, taking a seat across you.

"I need fifteen billion won in cash," you stated, stunning the manager.

"Ma'am, that is a very large amount so cash isn't the best—"

"I need it in cash. It's really urgent," you said in an annoyed tone.

He gulped and nodded. "Please give me your national ID card."

You handed it to him, fiddling with your fingers while he entered your details into the computer system.

"You have a joint account with your husband, Choi San, correct?"

"Yes."

"Ma'am, we will need Mr. Choi's confirmation as he is the primary account holder."

You mentally cursed. "That won't be necessary," you stated, trying to control your anger.

The manager sighed. "All right, please give me a moment," he said before leaving the room.

You groaned in frustration, putting your head in your heads. You couldn't imagine what your little daughter was going through; you knew she would be scared to death. Your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts.

You declined the call when you saw it was your husband. When he called again, you had no choice but to pick it up, knowing he would keep calling you. "Hello?"

"Y/N, what are you doing? Why are you making such a huge transaction?" San questioned. You mentally cursed the bank manager for contacting San. "Y/N, answer me! What's wrong?" You just kept quiet, knowing you'd break down if you opened your mouth. You heard San take a deep breath. "Are you leaving me or something? Is this about the fights we've been having? I'm sorry about that, I know it was my fault and I don't deserve you, but please, let's talk about this," he begged, making your tears spill from your eyes. "Y/N, say something, please. Tell me what's wrong."

"I can't," you whispered, choking on a sob.

"Baby, please," he begged. "Don't leave me. Please, I'm begging you."

"I'm sorry, San."

There was silence on his end before he sighed. "Okay, take all the money you want," he said and hung up.

A moment later, the manager came into the room. "Ma'am, Mr. Choi has given his permission for the transaction. The procedure for huge cash transactions are of course different, so I need you sign a few papers and write a cheque. It'll take a little over half an hour to get the money in cash."

-

As soon as you got the cash, you called your daughter's kidnappers. "I assume you've got the money?"

"Yeah," you replied.

"Good. You'll see a black van from across the entrance of the bank," he said and hung up.

You quickly made your way outside, easily spotting the van. You crossed the street and got into the van.

You couldn't recognize the driver and the other man in the passenger seat. Your daughter wasn't even here.

"Good job, Mrs. Choi," the man in the passenger seat said with a smirk; you recognized him as the guy on the call.

"Where's my child?"

"Relax," he grinned. "We're going to her right now." He glanced at the driver who nodded and started driving.

"Ah, give me your phone," the man said. "We don't need your husband tracking us." You hesitantly gave it and he switched it off.

After what felt like hours, you reached an old building. As soon as you got outside the car, you spotted your daughter tied to a wall, unconscious with a bleeding head.

"Minhee!" you yelled, running to her.

Before you could untie her, you felt an arm go around your neck, choking you. Even though you were trained to fight, you weren't the best at it. Nevertheless, you tried to free yourself. You kicked the man in the shin, making his grip around you loosen. You took that opportunity to bite his hand before turning around, punching him in the face. You kept punching him until two other men grabbed you. You managed to get one of them injured by repeatedly kicking his private area, but the other guy one was too strong. He easily picked you and threw you onto the concrete floor, making you bang your head and knee. You groaned in pain, feeling a warm liquid running down your face. You pushed yourself to get up despite the excruciating pain you felt. His gun was pointed at you while he smiled. "Have a great time in hell, Choi Y/N."

Suddenly, a gunshot was heard and the man dropped his gun, clenching his hand in pain. A few more gunshots were fired at him, instantly killing him.

"Y/N!" you heard San scream. He picked you up in his arms bridal style, and you got a glimpse of his teary eyes.

"Min-Minhee," you murmured, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Seonghwa's got her" was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

You slowly opened your ears, squinting due to the bright light. When your eyes adjusted, you realized you were in Yeosang's mini hospital at your gang's mansion. You turned your head to the side, spotting your husband reading some documents.

"San," you murmured, but it wasn't loud enough. "San," you raised your voice a little, coughing due to your extremely dry throat.

San immediately turned to you, eyes widening. "Y/N!" He quickly poured you a glass of orange juice since that was the first thing he saw. He helped you drink the juice, feeling so relieved to see you finally awake.

"How are you feeling, my love?" he asked, taking your hand in his.

"Where's Minhee?" you asked, panick clear in your eyes.

"Minnie is playing with Jongho and Yunho," San said, making you sigh in relief that your daughter was alive. "She's doing well. She got a few stitches, but it's healing quickly. Our daughter is very brave."

Your eyes teared up. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about—"

"Shh, don't," he cupped your cheek. "I understand why you did what you did, babe. I would've done that too. Anyway, we wiped out that entire gang and got the money back."

"What happened? How did you find me?"

"We killed all the four men and the other three who were hiding. One of them ran away to Japan, but Wooyoung and Mingi went there and killed him," San explained before getting a little nervous. "And um, don't be mad, but I put a tracker on your necklace."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Hey, see, it proved to be helpful!" he said, putting his hands up defensively.

Before you could reply, San placed his hand over your mouth. He took a deep breath while a wide smile spread on his face. "I also have some good news."

"What's the news?" you asked, voice muffled due to San's hand on your mouth. He opened his mouth to reply, but the door burst open, revealing your daughter.

"Mommy!" she squealed, running to your bed, trying to get onto the bed that was too high for her.

San picked his daughter up, placing her beside you. "Be careful, angel. Mommy is still recovering." The little girl nodded at her father before looking at you.

"How you feel, mommy?" she asked.

"Much better, now that you're here," you replied, tickling her chin. Your daughter giggled, moving away from you. She placed her little hands on your stomach.

"Come out fast so that we can play!"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you glanced at San. "About that..." he chuckled, taking your hand in his. "We're having another baby. You're pregnant."

"W-What?" you gasped in shock. You and San had been trying to get another child for quite sometime now.

"Yeah," he giggled, kissing the back of your hand. "You're almost a month long and the baby is perfectly fine."

Happy tears streamed down your face while your hands moved to your stomach. San kissed your head before pulling away a little. "I know I've been getting on your nerves a lot, but thank you for blessing me with Minhee and now another baby," he mumbled. "I love you so much, my beautiful wife." He crashed his lips onto yours. You kissed him back, smiling into the kiss.

"Eww!" your daughter squealed in disgust. "I'm going to tell uncle Jongho that you're kissing!"

San pulled away with a giggle before lifting his daughter into his arms, placing kisses all over her face while she squirmed around, laughing loudly.

You lovingly watched the two of them with a large smile on your face, and you couldn't wait for the future when your new baby would arrive, adding more happiness to your and your family's lives.

[love-and-monsters]

Polyam Alien Merfolk

GN reader X M mer-alien X F mer-alien, 6,743 words

Crashed on an alien planet and taken in by a couple, this story was uh, pretty self-indulgent for me. Not sure if anyone else is going to like it but I liked writing it.

CW: mentions of being in a cult and descriptions of family death and cult behavior.

“Is it like, alive?”

The voice was soft, coming from just over your head. Something sharp prodded your side. You groaned.

A second voice came from closer to your feet. “Sounds like it’s alive.” This voice was rougher, raspier, though also higher pitched than the first voice.

“Is it hurt, then? We can’t move it if its hurt.” The sharp thing poked your side again. “What if it’s really badly injured?”

Dimly, you were aware of sunlight against your face. Most of your body was covered with your skintight flight suit, but your face was exposed, and, from the feel of it, entirely covered in sand. Actually, given the grittiness in your mouth, most of your insides were coated in sand as well. The hard rock of nausea in your gut told you that you had probably swallowed a decent amount of sand too. Your lungs felt like they’d been aggressively sandblasted. Every breath stung like needles.

“Then there’s nothing we can do and it’ll die,” the second voice said. “It doesn’t look injured. I think. I mean, I don’t know alien anatomy, but everything looks right, doesn’t it? No blood. Nothing’s sticking out weirdly.”

“Internal injuries!” the first voice insisted. “What do we do? A doctor’s not going to know what to do about this.”

The nausea that had been churning in the bottom of your stomach abruptly kicked up a notch. Apparently, your body had decided you were awake enough to retch. Automatically, you twisted onto your side, abdominal muscles heaving, and a gush of fluid poured out of your mouth.

For the next minute or so, you were thoroughly occupied by vomiting. The nasty tang of saltwater mixed with bile filled your mouth and your injured lungs screamed for air every time you heaved. Finally, you were only dry-heaving and coughing into the sand. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the soft rush of waves against shore.

Groaning, you slumped onto your back once more. Sand shifted and crunched as you moved. Your head was clear enough to start putting the pieces together, though. You remembered… a space battle. Your little fighter had been hit. It had fallen.

“Hey.” The first voice was speaking again. You turned your head toward it. “Are you feeling better now?”

The speaker was covered in mottled scales, a dark green-blue near its back and a pale whitish color on its belly. From the waist up, it was humanoid, with a fairly human-looking face, large, fan-like fins along the back of its head and trailing down its back, and finned hands. From the waist down, it had the long, slender and finned body of some kind of sea snake. All of its fins had ruffled, fancy-looking edges and they were flushed a striking shade of red. Next to him was a slightly larger creature of the same species. This one had smaller, much duller fins and a slightly chunkier, rounded frame.

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your throat was a groaning hiss. The first speaker cocked their head at you. “Can you not speak? Could you not do that before or were you hurt?”

“Maybe that’s how it speaks,” the second speaker said.

“No! I’ve seen videos of them before, they speak like we do.” The second speaker rolled their eyes. The first speaker ignored them. “Hey. Hey! You okay? Blink twice for yes!”

You stared at the first speaker. They tilted their head back at you. “No? Not okay?” How were you even supposed to answer that question? You didn’t feel particularly hurt so much as pretty uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel totally put together either. After another moment of consideration, you made eye contact with the first speaker and carefully blinked twice.

“It’s okay!” they cried in utter delight. “Look, see?”

“Then we can move it somewhere. Get the interstellars involved. Go for the head, I’ll get the legs.”

“Why do you get the legs?” the first speaker whined. The second speaker ignored them and seized you by your ankles, hefting your legs up onto their shoulder. The first speaker, grumbling quietly, heaved your top half up.

Despite looking like sea creatures, they navigated the sandy dunes with a surprising level of ease. Within a few minutes, you were being set down on the wooden floor of a tiny, one-room building. The floor was flat underneath you, but you could see a slope leading into the ocean. The home was partially open, allowing for a smooth integration between water and land.

“Can you sit up?” The first speaker carefully lay you against the wall so you were in a seated position. “Naerie, can we get some water?”

The second speaker, Naerie, appeared holding a small, wooden cup. She passed it over to the first speaker, who held it to your mouth. “Here. Drink,” they said.

You sipped slowly. It wasn’t as pure as the water you were used to on your ship- it had a strange, slightly plant-like taste to it. Still, it was water and relatively clean, and it helped focus your mind and soothe your throat.

You leaned away from the water glass and cleared your throat. It was still sore, but it was functional. “Where am I?”

“It speaks,” Naerie said. Their voice was mildly surprised.

“Yeah. It does,” you said. “I… remember crashing here.”

“We saw that,” the first speaker said. “Well, we saw you fall into the ocean and dragged you to shore. I think your suit absorbed most of the impact?”

“They’re designed for kinetic redistribution.” The first speaker nodded, though their expression was entirely devoid of understanding. “Um. That means they’re designed to spread impact shock away from my body. I’m probably bruised, but I shouldn’t have broken anything.”

“I’ve never seen a human before,” the first speaker said. They lifted one of your hands, toying with your fingers curiously. They seemed fascinated by your lack of fins. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Yes. You’re quite a… reclusive species.” Naerie’s lip curled. A sliver of ice-cold worry dropped into the pit of your stomach. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“It-” An abrupt rush of memories cut your voice off. You remembered running, barely able to feel your limbs through the numbness of fear. You remembered navigating a tiny fighter ship with numb fingers. You remembered flying and flying, not toward anything, but just away, away, away. And then watching the slow failure of your ship’s systems, feeling the ice cold of space leech into your cabin, the thinness of the air. The certainty that you were going to die, cold and alone in space and that somehow, that was entirely better than being where you had been.

“Oh, hey. Shh, shh.” Scaled arms wrapped around you, tugging you against a warm chest. The first speaker was hugging you, nuzzling their face against your head. “It’s okay! You’re safe now.”

“I’m alone,” you said, voice choked. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I swear. I’m alone. No one’s with me. I didn’t mean to come here. I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have to leave! It’s okay!” The first speaker tugged you into their chest and glared at the other. “Naerie! Be nice! It’s okay, shh, shh.” They rocked back and forth, pressing your head to their chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

“If you’re alone, then I suppose it’s fine,” Naerie said. They seemed unsettled by your sudden tears. “All right. Terraso, let them lie back. We should get a good look at them, make sure they’re not hurt.”

You ended up wearing only the thin undersuit of your flight suit while Naerie probed at you delicately. In the end, it was determined that you were likely badly bruised, but not seriously injured. As Naerie prodded at your body, Terraso prodded at your mind by conversing cheerily. Names and pronouns were formally exchanged, and you learned that your rescuers were a couple, and lived on their own on the outskirts of a large city.

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go,” Naerie said, glancing you over. “You lost everything with your ship, didn’t you?”

You nodded. Technically, the only thing you had lost was a second set of clothes, but they didn’t need to know that. “I know how to live on my own.” Not really true, but you were pretty sure you could figure something out. “I can-”

“Absolutely not!” Terraso reared up on his long, serpentine lower half. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you should stay with us.” He turned, looking pleadingly at Naerie. “We can’t just kick her out.”

Naerie, despite her cool nature, didn’t seem keen on kicking you out either. Her brow puckered as she looked you up and down. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “You look as though you’re one missed meal away from starvation.”

You laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve missed plenty of meals before.”

Terraso and Naerie stared at you. Apparently that statement wasn’t as reassuring as you’d expected it to be. “You’re staying,” Naerie said. “Tomorrow, we can go into the city and see if we can get you set up with a life preserver pass. It’ll at least let you stay for a couple of months.”

“Life preserver pass?” you repeated.

“It’s like an emergency citizenship card. For people who end up planetside on accident, and are having trouble getting back home. If you get a citizen to stick up for you, you can get a life preserver pass until you figure out how to go home again,” Terraso said.

“That’s the simplified version. There’s a little more to it than that. Terms and conditions and all that. But you don’t need to know that to fill out the paperwork,” Naerie said.

Terraso rolled his eyes and leaned close to speak in a stage whisper. “Don’t mind her. She works for interplanetary governmental communications. Lots of paperwork.”

You nodded. “What do you do?”

“Oh. Mind the house, mostly.” Terraso rolled onto his back, swishing his tail idly.

You stared. “Mind the house?”

“You know. Cook, clean, make sure everything’s all nice for Naerie when she comes home,” Terraso said.

You mulled that over. “You don’t have a job?”

Terraso shrugged. “I mean, I keep everything in the household running. That’s kind of a job. When we have kids someday, I’ll take care of them.” He gave Naerie an eager look. She smiled back at him. “Didn’t they have house spouses where you came from?”

“Everyone worked,” you said. “Both my parents. All my siblings. If you had time to relax, you had too much time on your hands.”

Naerie and Terraso exchanged a look. “Where did you say you were from again?” Naerie asked. Her voice was soft, like she was talking to something easily spooked. You bristled at the implication.

“I’m from the Unity Formation,” you said. Naerie looked at Tarraso. He shrugged.

“Okay. Well. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you let Terraso take care of you for a while? I’ll start getting things set up for going into the city and getting you a life preserver pass.” They exchanged a couple more significant looks as Naerie slipped into the water at the other side of the house. It seemed strange, but you were too exhausted to care. You slumped back against the wall.

“You want anything to eat?” Terraso asked. There was a forced, cheery note in his voice. “You really are skinny. It’d probably be good for you to eat.”

It was clear he was trying to distract you, but you were hungry enough to allow it. “Sure.” Terraso grinned and started rummaging through cabinets, chattering cheerily all the while. His voice rose and fell like a wave. After a little bit, you didn’t even hear the individual words anymore. Just the soothing sound of his voice.

The next morning, Nearie provided you with some clothes. They were toga-like, made more for her legless species than yours, but you accepted them regardless. They covered everything important, anyway. Terraso fussed over you until you had eaten nearly two large helpings of breakfast. Feeling uncomfortably full, you left with your companions for the city.

The city was built much in the same way as their house- partially submerged, with other members of the alien species slipping in and out of water with ease. However, you noticed a few other land-walkers, like you, walking easily through the part of the city that was on land.

Naerie noticed you looking. “This city’s one of the more progressive ones. It’s the only interstellar spaceport, so we get a lot of other species here. Not many humans, though.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay.” A hulking, bladed creature strode by. You tried not to stare. There were more species here than you’d ever seen in your entire life. Gawking at them would probably not make a good first impression. Naerie saved you by slithering up to the front door of a tall, stately building and gesturing you inside.

It was several hours of bureaucratic wrangling before you could leave the building again, this time with a subdermal implant marking your status as a temporary citizen. You toyed at the small bump on your skin. It was designed for easy removal, but you couldn’t stop prodding at it, barely holding in the urge to rip it back out. The feeling of something like that under your skin again was unsettling.

The next stop was the shopping district. There were a few small, out-of-the-way shops that catered to bipeds, and you left laden with new clothes. The variety was amazing- you had never seen so many different kinds of fabric in your life, or so many rich, vibrant colors. It was almost overwhelming.

“Is this all right?” you asked as the three of you left the shop. “It must have been expensive. I can try to pay you back-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Naerie said, waving her hand in your direction. “Temporary citizens get a small stipend to fund their lives here until they can get stabilized or off planet.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the clothes. “And you’re okay with me staying with you? I don’t want to be a bother. I-”

“I think it’s exciting!” Terraso cut in. “I’ve never really interacted with a human before.”

Naerie smiled warmly at him. “Terraso’s always been fascinated with aliens. And, regardless, we’re not the sort of people who throw those in need out on the street.” She gave a disdainful sniff, displaying her opinion of those sort of people.

The city glittered with glass spires as you headed out of the shopping district and into an area that smelled mouthwatering. “Want to get some lunch?” Terraso asked. His body bumped lightly against yours as he spoke. He had a habit of doing that, freely letting a hand rest on your side to pressing his shoulder against yours. You nearly jumped every time he touched you. The casual nature of it was surprising.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. “I had a lot for breakfast.” Not to mention that lunch was more of a holiday treat than something you ate every day.

“That was quite a few hours ago,” Naerie said. “You don’t eat much, do you?”

“I’m used to having only two meals a day,” you said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into your voice. Terraso and Naerie exchanged looks again.

In the end, Terraso convinced you to try some sort of fried plant that was apparently the city’s specialty. It was far richer and oilier than anything you’d ever eaten before, and you had to nibble it slowly. Terraso chattered amiably about the city- apparently he was something of an architect nerd and could list off a few interesting facts about most buildings, even the ones that didn’t look particularly impressive.

By the time you had returned home, you were exhausted, and your stomach was in revolt over the fried food. You spent most of the night hunched over their toilet while Naerie and Terraso alternately checked on you.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t think it would make you sick,” Terraso said, tucking a blanket over your shoulders. You retched once more, bringing up thin bile. “I’ve seen humans eat that stuff before, so I just thought…”

“Maybe I’m allergic to it,” you suggested. Terraso made a chirruping noise of surprise.

“You weren’t gene treated for allergies as a kid?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Gene treated? You know, they do the histamine test and then they correct mast cells and…” He stared at your confused expression. “It’s standard medical procedure. Nobody gets sick or dies from allergies anymore.”

You shook your head. “We didn’t have it, I guess. I might not be allergic, anyway. I’ve never had anything like that before. Mostly, we had nutri-slurry.”

Terraso fussed with the edges of the blanket, twisting it between his hands as he tucked it around you again. “Did you grow up on a station in deep space?”

“Er.” You paused. “I grew up on a station.”

“You’re supposed to have one year planetside for every four years on the station. And more to eat than nutri-slurries.” Terraso’s tone was less scolding and more concerned. He gave you a look with his big, soft eyes. “Are you feeling any better? Less sick?”

“I’m okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“Mm. I don’t believe you,” Terraso said. “You seem like one of those people who won’t admit to being sick even when you’re a fin’s thickness from death.”

“Being sick isn’t an excuse for missed work,” you mumbled. The memorized phrase jumped to your lips before you had time to even think about it. Terraso’s expression flickered for a moment before smoothing back to kindness.

“You don’t have any work to do right now, so why don’t you just rest?” Terraso curled his tail beneath him and smoothed the blanket between your shoulders. “Get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You were too weary to protest. Instead, you snuggled further under the blanket and closed your eyes. Even the twisting of your stomach wasn’t enough to keep you from the warm embrace of sleep.

Gradually, you settled into a sort of routine with your rescuers. You woke in the morning, ate breakfast, and Naerie would go to work. Then Terraso and you would take care of any household chores that needed doing. Given that there were two of you, it took much less time than usual, and Terraso would usually spend the rest of the day teaching you about the local culture. It was overwhelming at times, the level of variety that was present. So different from your home, it made your head spin.

As you got bolder with your questions, you noticed Naerie and Terraso exchanging looks more often. You just started calling it the Look in your head- you would say something about your home and they would give each other the Look. The Look usually meant the next few minutes would be full of awkward tension, while Naerie and Terraso circumnavigated the topic.

The first few times the Look occurred, it was strange. After that it quickly made its way to annoying, then straight up frustrating.

When they exchanged the Look after you spoke about the oddness of the local week-long festival, you put your foot down.

“If you think I haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking glances at each other every time I mention something from my home, you’re wrong,” you said. Terraso froze like a kid sneaking extra slurry. Naerie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaffected. She put her utensils down and steepled her fingers, as best she could with webbed digits.

“We weren’t intending to keep anything from you,” she said. “But… ugh, I’m not going to dance around the reef anymore. Where exactly did you come from? You crashed here looking half starved, you usually refuse to discuss your old life, except cryptic, concerning details, and everything seems to suggest you crashed here on accident while running away from something. So. What were you running from?”

“I’m not a criminal,” you said. It came out far more defensive than you intended. Terraso sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to play intermediary.

“We don’t think you’re a criminal! We don’t! That wasn’t what we were suggesting. We’re concerned, though,” he said, his voice softening. “We want to know that you’re safe. You don’t talk about your life before you came here. We’re just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Your voice was sharp, automatic. Defensiveness bristled all over you, like quills. “There is no reason to be concerned. I am still able to complete my duties.” Terraso blinked and he and Naerie exchanged the Look. “And stop doing that!”

“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’re only trying to look out for you.”

“I have been doing fine,” you said. “Please. Leave it.” Your voice shivered at the end. You swallowed. A shiver of fear rippled down your spine and dug into the pit of your stomach.

Terraso lifted his hands and spread his fins. “Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.” He moved slowly toward you until he was within touching distance. Despite being close enough to hold you, he just extended his hands, like he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe here. Just wait for a moment until you come back to us. Okay?”

The soothing rise and fall of his tone relaxed something in the back of your brain. Your chest loosened and the trembling fear in your gut eased. Tentatively, you reached out and touched his hand. His fingers closed around yours, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Naerie said. She was speaking in the same soothing register as Terraso, though she was somewhat less practiced at it. “I’m just worried. I want to know that you’re okay.”

Her voice was unbearably tender on the last word. Terraso’s thumb traced along the back of your knuckles. The combination of two, tiny, kind actions made something in you, something that had barely been holding steady all this time, crack.

Sobs shuddered through your chest. Terraso made a quiet cooing noise and you slumped blindly, fumblingly, into him. Naerie slipped around him to rest a gentle hand on your back. For several moments, they held you up as you cried.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you ended up on the floor, cradled between Naerie and Terraso. One of Terraso’s cheeks rested on your head. Naerie was rubbing your back up and down in slow, loose circles. “Feeling better?” Terraso asked quietly.

“I think so,” you said. Despite the tension releasing in your chest, you couldn’t get your fingers to relax on Terraso’s arm. He didn’t mention it. “I- I know you’re worried.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Naerie said. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“No. I know I should talk about it. It’s… not happy, though.” You took in a deep breath. Terraso nuzzled you comfortingly. “It’s… I spent most of my life on the Unification Centralized space station. My parents joined when I was two. It was supposed to be this… utopia, I guess. A self-sustaining space station. But it wasn’t that. Once you were on the station, you couldn’t leave, and you had to work for the greater good. They said that all the time. You needed to work for the greater good. If you weren’t working, if you got sick, it meant you weren’t strong enough, that there was something wrong with you. And that was life. You worked and you tried to keep on the good side of the leadership, and if you didn’t you were in trouble.”

Naerie was looking at you with a combination of worry and horror. You glanced toward her face, but you couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I… left. My little sister- she was born after my parents joined. She got sick. Really sick. They said that she was being… I don’t know, punished for something.” Tears stung at your eyes, but your emotions had become manageable enough to repress them. “She died. Because we weren’t allowed to get help for her. And I didn’t know where to go after that but I knew I couldn’t stay there.”

“So, you left,” Terraso said. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It wasn’t, really,” you said. “I mean, it was. But it all seemed really far away. I didn’t want to die, but I guess I figured that staying there was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t matter. I just… I had to leave. I had to.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Terraso rested his head on your shoulder. Naerie’s arm lay across your shoulders. Their touch felt stabilizing, grounding, like it was what was pulling you to the planet, not the gravity.

“I’m sorry,” Naerie said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you.” Your voice grated in your throat. You cleared it a few times.

“How did you come here?” Terraso asked. “Did you just pick a planet to go to at random?”

You snorted. “I didn’t even get that far. I just tried to go in a different direction from the space station as fast as I could. I used one of the little space hoppers, the ones that are only supposed to be used for short travels. They don’t have onboard navigation systems.”

“That was reckless,” Naerie said. “You could have died. You almost did die.”

You shrugged. “I know. Like I said, I wasn’t really all that focused on surviving. I just wanted to get away.”

Terraso hugged you. His tail swung up, loosely wrapping around your waist. Naerie petted your head absently, though her gaze was distant.

“Please focus on surviving now,” Terraso said. His voice came out soft enough that it was almost a murmur. “It’s… scary to hear you talk like that. Like you don’t care if you live or die.”

You brushed your hand along his head, prompting his fins to stand to attention. “It’s okay. I’m feeling better now. It’s easier, with you two here. Like I have something to live for.”

Naerie smiled at you. Her eyes softened, glittering with emotion in a way you’d only seen when she looked at Terraso. Something in your chest tightened and loosened in the same moment.

“I have a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You have never experienced anything like the festival before, have you?” You shook your head. Naerie smiled. “Well. Why don’t we go out? It will be a good experience for you to have fun.”

Terraso perked up, lifting his head off your shoulders. “Yes! We haven’t been to one of the festivals in so long and it’s so much better with someone who hasn’t been before! You’ll love it.” He straightened up, tail coiling and uncurling with enthusiasm. “Only if you want to go, of course,” he added, looking at you with uncertainty.

“I’ve never been to one before,” you said, “so I won’t know what it is you’re supposed to do…”

Terraso grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his. “You’re not supposed to do anything except have fun! It’ll be good, I promise! And if you’re not having a good time, we can just go home.”

“It’s true. There’s no reason we can’t come back if you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Naerie said. “I think you’d enjoy it. And I think I’d enjoy seeing you have fun.”

“Okay, okay. If you both are so excited, then we’ll go. I just need a minute to get ready-”

“Meet us outside in ten,” Naerie said. She slipped underwater with Terraso, presumably so they could both get ready themselves.

Ten minutes later, Naerie met you outside. She flicked her fins casually in the faint sunlight that filtered through the clouds. “Terraso will be along in a moment. He likes to dress up.”

“Dress up?” The concept of getting into fancy dress to go places was still a bit of a foreign concept to you. Everyone had worn the same uniform in your old home.

“He likes the festivals,” Naerie said. “You’ll see.”

Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking, Terraso emerged from the sea, squirming in excitement. His fins seemed a brighter shade of red than usual, though you weren’t sure if he was slightly flushed or if it was an effect of the bright gold piercings he’d applied. A few of them even had red, fluttering cloths attached to them, giving the impression that he had more fins than he did.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked. Naerie smiled, linking one of her arms through his. The way her eyes roved over his body almost made you blush.

“We were waiting on you.” She reached out and, to your surprise, linked her other arm through yours. You tried not to look too surprised. As strange as it was, you didn’t want to do anything that might make her let go.

The city was enveloped in brilliant lights when you arrived. Aliens and natives alike were out in the streets, laughing and talking and shouting amongst themselves. The air smelled of a hundred different things, all delicious. Stalls were set up all over the streets, most of them with various pieces of art or food or souvenirs for sale. A few of them seemed to be offering some sort of lessons in art or dance or other such things. It was almost immediately overwhelming. Not negatively overwhelming, but it took you a moment to process everything.

“You should decide what we do first,” Terraso said. He looked at you with bright, eager eyes. “See anything you like?”

“Er,” you said. There were a lot of things that looked interesting, but you couldn’t sort out what a lot of them were, much less what you would enjoy.

“Terraso,” Naerie said. “Why don’t you pick first? We’ve been here before, after all, so we should be guides.”

In the end, Terraso dragged you over to some sort of simple game that consisted of tossing small balls into several different containers. You tried a couple of times, but the game was a lot more difficult than it looked. After quite a few tries, Terraso managed to score enough points to receive a stuffed toy resembling one of the many eel-like creatures that lived in their oceans.

“Here!” He thrust it into your arms, smiling triumphantly. You blinked down at it, a little confused.

“I don’t need this?” you said. “You don’t even have stuffed animals in your house. Why were you so intent on winning it? I don’t even think it’s particularly well made.”

“That’s not the point!” Terraso said, still grinning broadly. “The point is winning! Especially winning something for someone else!”

“He loves those games,” Naerie said, leaning over to speak quietly in your ear. “He’ll spend all our money on those things if we let him.”

You looked down at the stuffed toy in your arms. It looked pretty wonky, honestly. “Why? You could probably buy one of these for pretty cheap. Why spend so much money to win it? There’s no point.”

Naerie smiled slightly, eyes glittering. “Of course there’s a point. It’s to have fun.”

Naerie ended up drawing you over to some art booths. There were some live demonstrations, even things like glass blowing. You were fascinated by the careful motions, the way the demonstrator was able to twist blazingly hot glass into delicate shapes. Apparently taking into account how fascinated you were, Naerie practically shoved you into the arena the instant the demonstrator asked for a volunteer.

The demonstrator was kind and gentle as he helped you through the moves. In the end, you had a small replica of an undersea plant. Apparently you had a knack for shaping glass and the demonstrator insisted that you have another lesson when you came to pick up the piece from him.

“Perhaps there’s an apprenticeship there for you,” Naerie said as you rejoined her and Terraso.

“An apprenticeship?” you repeated. It hadn’t been something you were considering.

“Just a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You seemed to enjoy it and he seemed like a good teacher. I was only thinking- you’ve been here for a while. Perhaps it’s time to start… setting down roots?”

Her voice was delicate, gentle, but you could feel the intensity behind both her and Terraso’s gazes. It was true- you’d been living with them for a while, but you hadn’t really made any preparations to fend for yourself. You’d just been sort of floating.

“It’s something to think about,” Naerie said, putting a soft hand on your arm. “You don’t need to think about it right now.”

Your stomach picked that moment to interrupt. Terraso burst into high-pitched giggles. You glared. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” he said. “Something that’s not too hard on your stomach.” You pulled a face. They’d never forgotten your incident after the fried food and, in all fairness, you couldn’t either. Your stomach had adjusted to some of the heavier fare, but you were still prodded to nausea by anything with too much grease.

Naerie ended up picking some kind of grilled plant matter skewered on a thin wooden stick. Terraso practically crawled over her back as she took the sticks from the vendor. “Here, here, take it,” she said, passing him the stick. He bit into it delightedly, tail wriggling. She offered you one as well and you bit into it tentatively.

The fruit was sweet and salty in equal measure, with just a bit of bitterness from the char. You practically ripped into it, eating it with a ravenous fervor. Within a minute, it was gone.

Naerie laughed. “We’ll have to get you some more of those,” she said. She held out her own stick. “Here. You can have a bit of mine, too.”

You paused. Naerie had already taken a few bites out of it, and she was holding it out to you like she was just expecting you to take a bite while she was holding it. Somehow, that idea came across as almost unbearably intimate. A flush started to creep up your face. Still, Naerie was looking at you with expectance. Maybe you were overreacting? And even if you weren’t… you wanted to. Slowly, you leaned forward and took a delicate bite of the sweet fruit.

Naerie smiled. “Good?” Her voice had taken on a melodic tone, one that made your blushing even worse. You nodded slowly.

“Good,” you said. Terraso smiled and winked at you over Naerie’s shoulder. You looked down at the ground, flustered. “Er. We should, er. Keep going, right?”

The rest of the night was spent wandering the festival, attending the booths and activities. There was more to experience than you’d ever seen before- rides and shows and games all in a riot of colors. At some point, Naerie had pressed alcohol into your hands and you’d started drinking. Terraso was in a similar drunken state, giggling and flopping around, his slithering unsteady.

When the three of you made it back home, all of you were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Naerie was the most sober, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much. She managed to get both you and Terraso in the door before she slumped against a wall, giggling faintly.

Terraso was wrapped around you like a scaly rope, tightening his grip every time you tried to wriggle free. His head was pressed into the side of your neck, fins tickling lightly against your skin.

“Tired,” he mumbled. “Go to bed.”

“You can go to bed, if you want, but you gotta let go!” you said.

“No!” Terraso nuzzled further into your neck. “I want to sleep with yooouuu.”

“I can’t sleep underwater. I’ll drown,” you reminded him.

“Then I’ll sleep up here,” he declared. He lifted his head from your neck and, with some effort, focused his attention on Naerie. “Come on! Come sleep with us!” He made grabby hands at her, then started giggling. “Ooh. Sleep together. Ha ha. We shooouuuld.”

The double entendre made your cheeks grow warm. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to gently pry him off of you. That only made him cling tighter.

“But Naerie said she wouldn’t miiind,” Terraso said. He tilted his head, hanging off of you so he was looking at Naerie upside down. “Right? You said you wouldn’t miiiiiiind, Naerie.” He looped his arms tighter around your neck. “You’re so nice and pretty.” He hiccupped. “And- and- I love yooouuu.” His face was almost completely buried in your neck, muffling his voice. “I love you and Naerie and I wanna be with both of you! Naerie agrees!”

You looked up at Naerie. She was staring at you with wide eyes. It was hard to tell with her species, but you were pretty sure she was blushing. “He’s very drunk,” she said apologetically. “He tends to be, er. Very open when he has too much.” She held her hands out. “Here, I can take him and make sure he gets to bed okay.”

“Noooo!” Terraso wailed. He wrapped around you as tightly as he could. “Not goin’ anywhere!”

Perhaps you also had gotten a little tipsy, because you were feeling unusually bold. “I don’t mind,” you said. “If he wants to stay with me, that’s fine. He can sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Yay!” Terraso mumbled from his position against your shoulder. Naerie seemed conflicted, but she helped you and Terraso into bed. Despite how awkward it made things, Terraso was very insistent on not letting go of you at all.

“What he was talking about before,” you said as Naerie helped you into bed. “That stuff he said, about…”

“About the sleeping with you?” Naerie asked. She sounded unusually unsteady. “Yes. It was. I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything if the drink hadn’t rendered him completely senseless.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t,” you said hurriedly. Terraso moaned and somehow managed to snuggle closer to you. “I like you. Both of you. You’re the first people who’ve ever been really nice to me. And you’re both so sweet and Terraso’s funny and you’re so caring- I don’t think I could ever find anyone better.”

“I was hesitant to approach you about it,” Naerie said in a slow, uncertain voice. “I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to be in a relationship with us because we’re the ones helping you. But we… have discussed it. Polyamorous relationships are fairly common among our species. We’ve been interested.”

“I’ve never had any kind of relationship before,” you said. “Not a romantic one, anyway. So I’ll be a little new to this. If you’re still okay with going through with this?”

Naerie smiled and leaned closer to you. One of her hands lingers on your face. “I think I would be interested in teaching you. And I’m certain you couldn’t drag Terraso away with wild therians.”

“It’s true,” Terraso mumbled into your shoulder.

Something in your stomach fluttered. “If- if you’re sure, then.”

Naerie smiled. “I could not be more sure,” she said. She leaned in, then paused, your faces less than an inch apart. You realized she was waiting for you to make the next move. It took you a moment to steel your confidence, then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

The kiss was clumsy and uncertain, but it managed to be good nonetheless. When you broke apart again, you were giggling giddily.

“Perhaps you need practice,” Naerie said, a faint smile playing with her mouth.

“I’ll help,” Terraso declared. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth. Naerie laughed, easing him off of you and into bed. His tail wrapped around your leg insistently, though, and there was no way you would be able to pry it off.

“I suppose we’re staying up here tonight,” Naerie said. Terraso nuzzled into your side with a happy sigh. Naerie smiled. “He’s happy, at least.”

“I’m happy too,” you said. Naerie looked up at you, eyes soft with affection.

“Yes. I am too.”

[chidoroki]

Isabella - 73584

I had a serious debate with myself over whether or not I wanted to sit down and spend my weekend writing another one of these praise posts. I was content with just doing one for each of the Fullscore Trio kids and ending it there.. but apparently I love this woman too much to just ignore her on her birthday. So here were are on September 9th with a list of all her best and my personal favorite moments as to why I believe she’s such a great character, antagonist and mother (yeah you heard me right). Considering she only shows up in the beginning and very end of the story, this post ended up longer than I originally anticipated, which just goes to show how many thoughts I really have about this woman. (for real, this rivals Ray’s post in terms of points but there’s far more words)

Since she also has some backstory and certain events differ between manga and anime (thanks to the second season), I’ll try to go in chronological order between both timelines instead of chapter by chapter, which might be a bit confusing as we’ll jump around the story a lot but just to bear with me as I try to makes sense of it all.

(spoilers for the entirety of The Promised Neverland & ch181.7, so if you haven’t read/completed the manga yet, consider this your first warning, because I’m literally going from start to finish with this one last time. I promise.)

- I’m not sure how well she compares to Emma when it comes to athleticism, but Isabella seemed to have no trouble climbing up and down trees when she was younger.

- Not only that, but she managed to scale the wall by herself using a method that requires a fairly impressive jump. It’s also implied that this is how she climbs the wall again so many years later when chasing the soon-to-be escapees, which helps prove that even at an older age, she hasn’t lost her touch.

- Was chosen to undergo training to become a Mom, which required high test scores and the current mother’s recommendation. She accepted the offer in order to keep living and survive as human the demons couldn’t eat.

- Based on Sienna’s comment, is it fair to say Isabella is on par with the full score trio? I mean, the woman is basically flawless.

- She was practically untouchable during her time at headquarters while training too apparently. Mom positions are scarce so the environment where these ladies fight (physically/mentally/emotionally) to even snag that job is highly competitive, and yet Isabella never let anyone deter her from her goal of becoming a Mom, which probably led to the “Iron Lady” nickname she received now that I think about it.

- She was the youngest ever to be granted the Mom position at..what, 19? 20? Somewhere around there, but impressive nonetheless considering they’re forced to have a child, build up a strong, emotionless exterior and endure so much fear. (but my goodness, the woman doesn’t age at all. she looks just as good when the story actually starts as she did her when she was a bit younger)

- It became common knowledge among the Sisters that she was also very successful in the way she raised her children.

- Her success greatly benefited the farm, as she offered up countless high quality goods, which sounds terrible, I know, but believe me when I say she gave her best effort for her children. Even though she held the Mom position, the amount of power she actually had in this system was pretty minimal, especially with how much she valued her own life. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or risky changes, so she settled with doing the most with what she was capable of. She provided her children with a normal lifestyle, not only to keep up the orphanage facade, but knowing that their lives would all be cut shorter than they anticipate. She gave them love in hopes that no one would ever have to feel the dread she felt after Leslie’s death and/or finding out the truth. She tried to delay that horrific fate by encouraging them to learn all they can (like teaching the trio about strategy and chess) so they could achieve higher tests scores and (unknowingly to them) add a couple more months or years onto their lives. Yes it was her job to raise these children to such high standards but she excelled at it for their sake too.

- And I know y’all will just throw Ray in my face like, “oh but he was her actual child and she treated him horribly/different.” Okay but deep down I don’t think she actually wanted to? When they both realized they were truly mother and son, Isabella couldn’t just dote on him and start treating him as such. I’m sure Ray wasn’t too fond of Isabella at this point in his life either, knowing that she sent several of his siblings away to get killed. They probably would’ve gotten along just fine in a perfect world, but since they were both aware of the hell they’re trapped living in, they emotionally distanced themselves and formed a business-like relationship as a result of Ray’s deal, which benefited them both in different ways. For Ray, it was more practical, with the obvious notion of living as long as possible along with obtaining various rewards and knowledge of the outside world. For Isabella, it helped emotionally by simply just ignoring their true relation. I believe if she clung to that realization, it would break the orphanage illusion and eventually wear down her “Iron Lady” exterior that she relies so heavily on.

- Like can you imagine how much you would have to harden your heart in order to quite literally walk children to their death every couple months for years on end and just move on like it’s completely normal? Now imagine how earth shattering it must be to think about doing the same to your actual child. All those years spent perfecting a fake smile and emotionless exterior like she was trained to have and her son shatters it in an instant. She becomes completely terrified about how he’s actually alive and in front of her right now and there’s nothing she can do to truly save him.. and yet she still recovers so damn quickly I can’t even comprehend it! But there’s still some sadness in those eyes. You can’t tell me otherwise. That one moment of weakness speaks volumes to me.

- So now with her general backstory FINALLY out of the way, we can finally start with ch01/ep01 and how her laugh is sweet and innocent. I say that because (all hidden emotions and motives aside) that’s exactly how she’s supposed to sound in this moment, not only to us but to the children as well.

- She of course checks Emma’s tracker a moment later but other than that I still think it’s a pretty genuine moment between the two.

- As previously stated, her ability to raise high quality children is unmatched, which is clear as day thanks to the fullscore trio.

- Despite their crazy level of intelligence, the trio has yet to win a simple game of chess against Isabella, even when teamed up.

- She treasures everything about the kids.

- She really cares about them, even when it’s time to send them off with a smile, which we know is thanks to her strong facade.

- But mother dearest isn’t really fine. She doesn’t like walking kids to their death, especially so young. But she can’t let them (or even herself) know that. She can’t show weakness, so she hums Leslie’s song, which is a tool she’s used for years in order to give herself strength.

- Don’t worry, I disliked her this moment happened too, just as the story intended. And here’s where her fantastic antagonist role begins for all the world to see.

- A true champ at jump scares.

- Acts completely calm the night after a couple of kids found out the secret of the farm.

- She uses the tracker in plain sight, sending whomever went to the gate last night a threatening but silent message.

- Correct Norman, that’s the “Iron Lady” for ya. Also the name of ch03 for us. Well, “The Iron Woman” but same difference.

- She switches from calculating and manipulative breeder to sweet and pleasant mother so quickly and effortlessly it’s incredible. Isabella even checked Emma’s pulse in this scene to see if she was acting normal.

- At this point she still had no idea who went to the gate (Ray didn’t tip her off yet, at least I don’t think so) but her guess couldn’t have been more precise. The level of fear she drives into both Emma and Norman was great too, but then again her presence is enough in any scene to give us chills.

- Notices her watchdog isn’t at his usual post and starts to get suspicious.

- Not only of him, Emma and Norman, but Don and Gilda as well, thus giving the five extra chores to finish in an attempt to slow down any escape planning, such as cleaning vacant rooms, organizing the pantry and inspecting spare linen.

- While the trio believes Isabella was being too soft and patient in finding her targets, she effectively catches them off guard by bringing in Krone for assistance. The trio soon realize they were actually preparing the sister’s new room and those mundane chores were just an excuse to buy time.

- Look at her, all smug. Checkmate indeed. (and totally not important, but her eyes are such pretty shades of purple)

- The sass and her no nonsense attitude.

- Immediately puts Krone in her place the moment she even thinks about shipping out the targets. Of course holding off on shipping the targets would benefit the farm, as it would produce higher quality merchandise as time passes, but plant 3 is run by Isabella and she’ll be damned if an assistant thinks they could waltz right in and decide her children’s fate.

- She check’s Emma tracker again despite her claim of knowing exactly who the targets might be. You can never be too careful.

- Her precious children managed to win a game of tag against Krone, which is still impressive considering the kind of training the sister has gone through, so kudos to her teachings.

- Knows right away that Krone was trying to take advantage, which allows Krone to realize that the opening she had to learn more about the children was all planned by Isabella herself. Her intimidating nature is enough to scare adults too.

- Reveals that Krone was mostly summoned in order to keep Ray in check after his failure.

- Despite the trust issue, Isabella still keeps up her end of the deal by requesting the items Ray asked for, thanks to the odd perks she had under Grandma Sarah which allowed her to order goods that weren’t on the supply list.

- This hug between her and Phil is just too cute not to mention.

- I imagine she makes this comment because she knows exactly how long a rope must be based off her own almost-escape.

- It’s just something about how this scene is framed alongside this dialogue that makes me think “oh, like mother, like son.”

- I blame her very thoughtful planning for my first big freak out when I watched season 1 blind, like ma’am that’s my favorite boy, please don’t.

- She conspires with Grandma Sarah in order to get rid of Krone for good, which renders the evidence sister just found out about the children’s escape completely useless. Sarah believes there might be some truth to it, but ultimately ignores it and puts her faith in Isabella’s ability of controlling the children & the situation.

- She then cuts Ray off and ends their six-year long deal, opting to control the situation herself from now on. Also, how she wanted to keep him around until the very end is kinda bittersweet. Does she mean as merchandise? Or because she wanted him to live as long as possible? Ah such a tricky little comment.

- She also tosses him across the room like a rag doll.

- Thank god for this panel existing and actually being adapted into the anime so I could hear it because I had absolutely no memory of her laughing in this moment.

- “She says it so nonchalantly,” Norman said once upon a time, and it’s still so frightening.

- As insane as her ideals seem given the circumstances, nothing she says here is really a lie.

- She has the strength to quite literally break a leg and that cracking noise still haunts me to this day.

- It wasn’t even a spur of the moment thing either. Isabella came fully prepared with bandages to fix up any injury she was willing to inflict and that thought alone is terrifying.

- Not only that, but she broke it so cleanly that Emma’s leg does indeed heal perfectly in the exact time frame she estimates. This entire moment is so unfairly impressive, like ma’am how dare you do this to Emma of all people.. like why couldn’t you at least use that kind of force to snap Peter’s neck instead or something?

- To make matters worse, she then reveals Norman’s shipment date. And it’s the following day, which sends the kids into a very understandable panic.

- Needless to say, November 2nd, 2045 was a very successful day in the life of Isabella. Woman was putting everyone in checkmate in ep08 and my anger on full blast.

- This sly smile she sends Ray’s way after announcing Norman’s shipment to the younger kids is so cruel.. it’s perfect.

- I can only imagine she asked about Ray’s whereabouts because she knew the boys were close friends and she hoped they would at least say goodbye to one another, but that’s just me.

- Puts an end to Norman’s parting words in such a simple and chilling matter.

- The way she just openly threatens Emma with others just out of earshot.

- Norman out here asking the real questions. If anything, I say she’s more “content” rather than happy. I don’t think she’s ever really thought about her own happiness, at least not often enough, hence the slight pause. This entire time she’s been focusing on how to make her children’s lives perfect, but for herself she just wants to survive in this hellish world they’re all living in.

- I’m honestly still not sure who’s final decision it is to send people to Lambda, either Isabella, Peter or someone else (honestly never bothered to check), but whether or not Isabella had any say in the matter, I’m sure she’s at least a little glad that Norman gets to live a bit longer? Perhaps that’s a stretch, but I’m putting the idea here anyway.

- I say this because I believe that’s part of the reason why she offered Emma a Mom recommendation, not only because our girl’s high test scores, but in hopes that she could live a longer life.

- Although she really stresses in an intimidation fashion how pointless Emma’s efforts are now that Norman’s “dead,” the cliff remains a major hazard and her leg is still bandaged up, Isabella still tries so hard to convince her to give up, like Ray has, in order for Emma to end her own suffering. It was the first instance during my blind watch-through were I started to get the hint that Isabella might actually care about her kids, and of course I know now it’s because she didn’t want Emma to experience the same pain she did after Leslie’s death.

- With Emma and Ray both broken, things went by rather smoothly for Isabella those last two months, though she continued to keep a close eye on them.

- Her humming is so soothing. And why it took me this long to bring up “Isabella’s Lullaby” is beyond me, but oh my god, that song and any other soundtrack that uses its melody is absolute perfection.

- Had enough sense to not let her guard down the final night, even though her efforts were ultimately unsuccessful, but the idea counts.

- Though her caretaker side is focused on more during the fire, some motherly instincts do kick in as she instructs Gilda to get the babies from her room and lead everyone outside to safety. She was also concerned for Emma’s well being, hoping all the smoke didn’t get to her when the girl vanished. (i know you can argue “she’s only worried because they’re merchandise” which is fair but c’mon, i swear she’s not completely heartless)

- Took a hot minute (ahha) but Isabella eventually realized that the kids were actually escaping solely based on what they were wearing on their feet. I’m sure Emma’s discarded left ear was a big tip off too but to come to that conclusion by noticing the shoes they had on during all that chaos is surprising.

- She looks completely insane here but I always thought this shot of her was nicely animated with all the fire (or embers? sparks? whatever they are) flying around. The laugh she does before this is also a nice bonus. Oh, and she somehow managed to secure a radio from the room Don had locked.

- Figured the fifteen kids would head towards the bridge and called in headquarters to block it off.

- But when the children didn’t appear at the bridge, she just happened to know exactly where else they might try to cross the cliff.

- In the anime’s case, Isabella climbed the wall and ran there quick enough to engage in a stare down with Emma before she finally slid down.

- The moment I knew I was doomed.

- After the 15 kids successfully escaped, Isabella admits defeat, for she couldn’t really see how much her children have grown to outsmart her.

- This iconic quote, which conveys so much truth and sincerity. There were multiple occasions where she had to distance and restrain herself due to the system that controlled her, but the love she was able to show the children was genuine. If she wasn’t held back by the strict rules enforced by Mom position, I don’t doubt she would’ve treated Ray better or became far more emotional whenever a child had to leave for good or seriously injured, instead of donning a fake smile and being closed off.

- She realizes with this unspeakable loss in merchandise, the reputation she worked so hard to build up is meaningless now and that the farm no longer has any use for such an incompetent caretaker. She figures she’s as good as dead anyway now, so she wastes no time in actually helping the escapees by reclaiming the ropes to hide their exact method and route of escape, if only to grant the kids some extra time before the pursuers really locate them.

- She doesn’t act bitter as a result of her loss, instead choosing to wish the escapees luck with the future they grasped for themselves and care for the children that were left behind.

- She’s just so pretty y’all. Thank you anime.

- She was named “Best Antagonist” (and rightfully so!) back during the 2020 Crunchyroll Anime Awards, winning over Askeladd (Vinland Saga), Overhaul, (My Hero Academia), Garoua (One Punch Man,) & others.

(Post-season 1 spoilers ahead, even though the anime is completely finished at this point, but will be touching upon her special chapter more as well.)

- Completely owns up to her mistakes that caused the farm a massive loss in profitable goods and is ready to received whatever punishment necessary, which she expects to be death.

- Only.. she’s not being killed, she’s actually being promoted to Grandma. Though Isabella was directly responsible for the children’s escape, the blame ultimately falls on Sarah who couldn’t correctly control Isabella, thus leading the old lady to be shipped out in place of the goods Isabella lost.

- Peter also notes that the farm found more worth in Isabella than Sarah, so her past merits also played a part in sparing her life, as having a woman like Isabella in charge would surely produce the level of quality the farm needs.

- Isabella eventually accepts the promotion, though she can’t help but feel hesitant and shocked about the whole deal. This woman was ready to embrace death and finally be free from this cruel world, but now she has to witness not only more kids being shipped off, but moms and sisters in training as well (yay old chapter reviews coming in clutch).

- She could have very well just refused Peter’s offer, but we all know how much Isabella originally wanted to survive, so she doesn’t just accept because this man dangled a sense of freedom in her face, she also agreed so she could have the opportunity to help her children in any way her newfound power would allow her.

- Of course, her transition to Grandma happens a bit differently in the second season, but I will give some bittersweet thanks to the anime once more for the obvious but curse them for also having this entire scene dark as hell. Let me see her beauty darn it! I can only fix the lighting so much until it looks overexposed and bad again.

Anyways, Sarah is still alive at this point and taunts Isabella with the escapee’s lives just to see how she would react, which gave her a small sense of hope. Then some demons pay a visit later on and also ask if she would want to see the children one last time, but Isabella tells them that not only would she be too ashamed to face them but that they would manage to survive Grandma’s capture plan, which involved several men blowing up their shelter. It’s now clear to the demons that these children are special, and while Isabella agrees, it’s not for the same reason the demons think so. The demons believe the kids are special because of how they were raised to such a high quality. Isabella calls them special simply because they’re her children, just as any mother would.

- In the anime, it’s the demons who offer Isabella the Grandma deal if Sarah’s current plan were to fail (which it does) and she takes it and the freedom from Grace Field House without question. Do I still believe she had similar intentions to help out the children like she did in manga at this point? Of course.

- Not even a full month into her new job did she start preparing to help Emma & the others by considering who from the current Sisters she wanted to recruit to personally assist her destroy the farm entirely.

- A month later and Isabella had already decreased the number of shipments that took place at Grace Field, which obviously helps raise the quality of the children by default, but it also means less death and gives those kids a chance to live longer.

- She completely anticipated that Matilda, Jessica, Sienna & Scarlet were conspiring against her and caught them quite easily, as they were among the top scorers.

- Each had a fair chance at becoming Moms but with those positions limited, it was obvious to figure out they were trying to force Isabella’s seat open by creating some suspicious activity to place on her almost perfect record. Unfortunately for the girls, our new Grandma is too smart for her own good and I love it.

- The four women are apprehensive to join her insane plan to go against the farm, but Isabella assures them there’s no freedom if they follow the system’s rules and betray her. The harsh reality they’re all living in will continue unless they stop competing with one another and combine forces to defeat the true enemy.

- To persuade them further, Isabella mentions the children they all gave birth to are still alive, bringing out an array of emotions from the women that they each thought they had buried deep down.

- THIS! Just all of this is wonderful and shows just how much Isabella learned from her children who once defeated her.

- To fully gain the women’s trust, she gives them Ray’s farewell note that he originally left in order to bait Krone, as proof she won’t double-cross them at any point.

- I love the fact that she kept the note close to her because it acts just like all the other various toys and items she saved in her secret room back at plant 3. The original owners were all precious to her so she kept a piece of them behind to remember them in a place only she knew about. As I said before when mentioning her “I wish I could have just loved them normally” quote, all the love she had for her children had to be suppressed when she was under the system’s control, but that doesn’t mean she never cared. Because she did, and if I haven’t made at least that clear by now then I’m failing.

- Can her intentions and love for her children be any more clear? (possibly, i’m not done with this darn post yet. how you guys holding up? i’m going a little insane at this point.)

- Anyways! Second season didn’t make the rest of the story easy so apologies for any timeline mishaps as I switch between both anime and manga events from here on out.. like how in manga Isabella is informed of the escapee’s return to Grace Field via Peter, while the in the anime it’s her who helps lures them back with a fake transmission via the radio they stole.

- Just before Emma & the others do return to Grace Field on November 13, Isabella finally reaches out to the farm’s many other Sisters to recruit them. She waited until the right moment to inform them of her crazy takeover plan so Peter wouldn’t become suspicious from all of headquarters acting/thinking differently (you know, like how Emma kept the jailbreak plan under wraps until the night of). These ladies also feel a bit wary and even think of Isabella’s offer as a joke, but with some real, heartfelt encouragement, she manages to win over every single woman to her side.

- The moment when it was first revealed to us that she was not only still alive but was also promoted to Grandma is still so powerful.

- She snaps Nat’s finger back into place after Peter broke it. (and considering emma’s group infiltrates the farm right after this, i’m pretty sure that ch170 with rallying the sisters took place before this..i think?)

- Gave me a minor heart attack.

- *CLAPS FRANTICALLY!!!* The moment she truly won me over.


- While her betrayal against Peter in the manga is fantastic and quite possibly one of my favorite moments, the anime did give us a little something too. It shows Peter spewing utter nonsense to Emma about how she’s destined to fail, only for best girl to bite back with such a fantastic quote, and then Isabella drops the act and switches sides. While I agree Emma’s comeback is “wonderful,” it’s the English dub that completely wins me over in this scene by having Isabella comment “Now that’s my girl” instead, like bro.. hearing that makes me so happy.

- For real dude, you have several highly skilled women pointing guns at you, I think her betrayal is crystal clear.

- This is like the perfect example of how she had to conceal her feelings while bound by the system. She just misses these kids so much y’all but she can’t let her true emotions show yet.

- Having her call Peter a boy is beyond hilarious to me. Also, how she disagrees with him on so many levels is excellent, like how he believes in experimenting on kids and having the right to call yourself their parent just because you created them, while Isabella believes in raising and loving children normally and that you earn that parent title by actually being part of their lives. To be fair they both inflicted pain on kids (Nat’s finger/Emma’s leg) but Peter’s action was a mistake in itself. Isabella got frustrated back when Krone even threatened to ship out the kids who discovered the secret, so you can bet she’s probably pissed off at this boy for harming one of her kids on purpose.

- The best mother-daughter moment ever! It’s such a shame it never got truly animated since the second season decided not to give the children guns, but we get to see a small smile from Isabella after Emma decided to still call her “mom.”

- The anime never gave Peter the chance to run away, like he (somehow) managed to do in manga, so we had the chance to see someone actually shoot at him. Well, in his general direction at least. Isabella lands a perfect shot not even a full second after he pulls out that disc. Accuracy on point.

- Said this once or twice in the past in manga so I’m glad the anime brought it back.

- Remains cautious and keeps her gun raised at Peter when Emma approaches him and rightfully so considering he still had his knife hidden at this point.

- Refuses Emma’s offer to join the kids in the human world at first because she knows that her (& the sister’s) actions shouldn’t be forgiven so easily, but with some rather blunt sympathy from Ray and encouragement from her other children, she finally gives in.

- This entire post summed up in one image.

- She apologizes even though distancing herself from her kids and preparing them for death were just required of her role as a caretaker. She wouldn’t have done any of that in a normal world. (do i sound like a broken record yet? probably)

- The emotion you hear in her voice during this entire dub scene hits my heart in all the right places.

- She still thinks of Leslie after all this time and I think that’s real cute.

- Her protective nature is on full display when she protects Emma from this bastard of a demon. A truly surprising and heartbreaking moment, considering this is the woman who’s survival used to be her top and only priority in the past, but now doesn’t hesitate to give her life in order to save her kid (and by extension that small girl emma saved. also, major heart attack for me).

- Despite being critically injured, this woman still possess enough strength to hold back a demon twice her size. She doesn’t even pay any mind to its nonsense. Like the demon, people often think this is when redemption arc starts but I believe it started way back in ch37 when Isabella retrieved and hid the ropes the kids used to escape. Ever since she admitted defeat on the wall that night, she threw caution to the wind and began cheating the system in hopes to one day assist the kids achieve a brighter future. Despite all the work she’s done behind the scenes, Isabella believes there’s still so much more she can do to atone, so even though she’s already received the children’s forgiveness, she continues to assist them by jumping in and saving them directly from demons for once in her life.

- Ma’am it’s sweet you’re so concerned with their safety, but we should be asking you that question ya know? (but then again emma was the same way after she woke up from her coma).

- Knows that just apologizing and saving Emma isn’t enough to suddenly forgive all her actions and wants to do so much more for the children as a result. Even though I already acknowledged all her subtle and hidden moments, I wish we got to see her care for them more openly.

- I simply can not read through ch177 and not get emotional. No matter how hard I try, I always feel tears start to form in my eyes. Oh my god, how cruel that death can be this beautiful. It’s so unfair.

- *uses old chapter review because I’m too upset right now* “She apologizes for everything. For not treating him right and loving him as a mother normally would her own son. For making him despise his life so much and enduring so much pain that he thought the only escape was suicide.”

- “She leaves him with one last wish to protect everyone, and that completely breaks me because you know exactly how much they both care for their family. Not only would they literally die for their family, but they would live for them too if someone asked. Truly like mother, like son.” (aaaaaahhhhh)

- Her, umm.. ghost (along with Conny’s & Yuugo’s) help Ray reunite with Emma in 2049.

- All my tears aside, the anime did something right by actually keeping her ALIVE!

- Have you ever seen something so GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL in all your life?? This image is so powerful it literally tossed aside any salty feelings I had that night with how the second season ended. Seeing her like this grants me so much happiness y’all, it’s truly unbelievable. I still can’t get over it and hopefully I never will.

Okay, now I’m done, thank god. Sorry this is like ridiculously long, especially since she’s absent for sooo many chapters. Also find it so hilarious how drastic my opinion of her changed from the beginning to now, from “bitch” to “oh my god I love her so much.” I know people will always have opposing opinions whether she’s actually a good mother or not and that’s totally fine. Wasn’t trying to convince y’all of that either because yes, some of her actions are real unforgivable, but she was suffering under the farm system too and just followed through with what she was trained to do in order to survive, but while other Sisters fought to climb ranks and help themselves survive, Isabella ultimately wanted the best for her children. The more power she gained, the more risks she took and once the system crashed so did her facade.

An absolute queen.

[nnightskiess]

‧₊° 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘/𝐍 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩. 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐘/𝐍 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧?

To say Y/N had been working hard, would be a real understatement. Even with only a few bites of food in her system, the girl had pushed herself all week to upkeep their little camp and help provide for the rest of the girls. No matter how much the other girls had protested for her to take a break, she had kept going and going and going. Sitting around and doing nothing would only make her feel guilty.

After Leah had lashed out and persisted for her to wear a baseball cap to take the heat out of her face, and thus lessen the severe sunburn she was already sporting, no one else had been able to make the girl listen to them. Thus Leah made sure to stay close, offering the girl water, pushing her to work in the shade or making her splash some seawater in her neck to try and keep her a bit cool. It was all she could do and all that Y/N accepted. 

“Leave it!” 

Y/N’s yell echoed over the sound of the waves, making everyone’s head turn to her and Dot, who was standing next to her— both girls holding onto the axe. 

“You need to take a fucking break or we’ll have to bury you next.” Dot yelled back but there was less hostility in her tone— she mostly worried.

“We’ll have to dig nine graves if I don’t do anything!”

“So you think we’re not doing enough? Low blow, Y/N.” Rachel chimed in.

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” Her exhaustion and the pain everywhere in her body didn’t help to keep calm towards the others.

Fatin stood between the two, quickly trying to divert the attention, “Look, as much as I love me a hard-working, independent woman, I think it’s best if you just come with me and relax a little. Let’s get some shade, come on.” Fatin grabbed the girl by the shoulders but Y/N didn’t really budge to walk away with her.

Rachel rolled her eyes, “You’re her polar opposite. Not doing anything doesn’t help either, Fatin.” 

“Uh- this isn’t about me, but fine, there’s some truth to that.” she shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I’m sure Y/N didn’t mean it like that.” Nora mindlessly trudged towards the girls, the others following her actions.

“Oh, didn’t she? We’re working our asses of in this heat while my body is screaming for food, water and rest and she has the fucking audacity to-”

“Man, leave her the fuck alone.” Toni suddenly appeared next to Y/N and grasped the axe out of Dot’s hands before giving it back to the girl next to her. “She’s working so fucking hard to keep us alive, keep things going, and all you guys fucking do is attack her for it.”

Rachel’s lip curled into a sneer. She was doing her best to swallow back the bitter reply she had prepared and walked off. 

“You good?” Toni grabbed the girl’s forearm to get her attention after the lack of response. 

Y/N mustered up some energy to smile in return, “Yeah, I...I’m going to get us some leaves for the roof.” She gestured to the forest behind her, getting a nod of acknowledgement from Toni.

“You know I meant well, right?” Dot furrowed her eyebrows, still feeling worried. “At least let me go with you then?”

“I know. But I can’t stop, you know that too, right? We need a solid shelter. And no, it’s best if you stay here so you can hold down the fort.”

“But-” Leah finally joined the conversation, having observed from the sidelines until now.

“It’s alright, Leah. I feel alright, I’m fine. I can keep going.” Y/N awkwardly adjusted the cap, trying not to touch her painful sunburned head. Leah decided against trying to change Y/N’s mind, noticing the persistent look in the girl’s eyes. But the way Y/N winced when she brought her hands up to get her hair out of her face, didn’t go unnoticed by her.

Y/N tried to hide how tired she really was and continued, “When the shelter is done, I might take you up on that relaxation offer.” She turned to Fatin, “But right now it doesn’t feel good to rest, knowing that we could be having another sandstorm or rainstorm tonight. I appreciate your effort, though.”

Fatin smiled sympathetically at the girl before watching her walk off towards the forest.

“I don’t... I don’t feel comfortable having her go alone.” Leah bit her lip and faced Dot and Fatin.

“Me neither, man, but you know she gets prickly when she feels like we watch over her like a child.”

“Well, we kind of do watch over her like a child...” Martha added, a guilty expression on her face.

“Yeah, but only because we mean well...” Shelby bit her lip, watching Y/N disappear into the forest.

“Try telling a growling lion that you mean well and just want to pet it... see how that goes.” Fatin snorted but immediately kept quiet when she saw no one laughing along, only Nora gave her a hesitant smile.

Leah had zoned out and suddenly turned to where Y/N had walked off to, realising she needed to leave now if she wanted to catch up to the girl. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Gonna help her.”

Was all she said before abandoning the group.

Y/N tried to ignore the most prominent aching— the one in her head — and tried to zone out all the pain she was feeling with every step. Her throat started to feel like a knife every time she swallowed and her limbs were on fire. But still, she pushed on to take one step after the other. She knew Toni and Dot had cut the bushes closest to camp already, and therefore she trekked further into the heart of the rainforest, scouting for whatever may come in handy. But it got harder with each step. Her vision seemed to blur and the trees started to sway from left to right and as she looked down at her feet, she saw not only two, but four of them. She let out a shaky breath, realising this wasn’t good and what would probably happen next. Dot had been right, she had needed a break after all. Y/N tried to look around as much as she could with her current vision, the headache not helping, but she could no longer make out any depth, let alone find a nice tree to rest her back against. Before she knew it, she had fallen face forward and slid off the path, landing a few meters down into a thick pile of mud. She heard the few items she had managed to find fall after her before they landed harshly on her back. One last look around and her vision went black.

Leah’s worries were already high the moment she stepped into the forest. The slow blinking of Y/N’s eyes and slow, painful movements overall, the split seconds she’d grab her head or stomach and the way she had taken deep breaths had made her worry for the girl. But after forty minutes of walking around trying to find Y/N, to no avail, that worry started to grow. She couldn’t go back now, she needed to find Y/N first.

It might have been the lack of sense of time, but back at camp, the girls were starting to worry where the two girls were at. 

Dot had been drawing with a stick in the sand before pointing with it at the sky, “Sun’s going down in two hours, should we go look for them?”

“No.” The corner of Fatin’s mouth curled up into a smirk. She stifled a laugh, earning confused looks from the rest of the girls who had put their work on hold for the day. “You guys!” She rolled her eyes and sighed, “Let them have their fun.”

Toni snorted, knowing what she was going on about.

“Um-” Shelby rubbed her neck, feeling slightly awkward, “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

“Have I seriously been the only one who noticed?”

Rachel shrugged, “Probably. We’re too busy working to even notice stuff like that.”

Fatin made a mocking but playful face and sat up. 

“They both like to retreat and sit alone now and then, right? I’m sure everything’s okay.” Martha tried to lift everyone’s spirits but it was clear that most of them were now starting to worry, not taking Fatin’s remark seriously.

Dot stood up. 

“I say we should start looking for them.”

“Y/N?!” Leah’s voice cracked. If only Y/N could hear her, she could yell back or follow her voice, even if she wasn’t near. “Y/N!” 

Leah frantically looked around and slipped, thick mud now coating her clothes.

“Leah, are you okay!?” The rest of the girls had found her and helped the girl back up. Leah’s breath was laboured and she held her head in panic, not even realising her hands were muddy. She frantically looked around.

“Leah, Leah, hey-” Fatin walked from the back and grabbed the girl’s arms, “Breathe, tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t know what happened, I don’t-” She looked around again, yelling for the girl. “We have to find her. S-She’s fine… I mean, she has to be, right?“

Toni opened her mouth, “You never caught up with her?”

Leah’s eyes landed on Toni for only a split second before she shook her head and looked around again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dirty white top Y/N had been wearing that day.

“Hey, I’m sure we’ll find her. Okay?” Fatin tried to reassure her friend.

“Yeah, knowing her she's probably busy cutting down the whole rainforest.” Shelby tried to lighten the mood as well, but it went over Leah’s head.

“Not to piss on anyone’s parade, but it took us a good while to even find Leah, the sun’s going down soon and as much as I would hate leaving without Y/N, I don’t think it’s such a great idea to walk around at night.” Dot twirled the stick in her hand, hating having to break the news. “We should call it. You know, start out fresh in the morning...”

Leah’s voice was harsh from yelling, “We have to keep looking.” It was clear to everyone that she was on the verge of breaking down, “We can’t stop looking.”

“Leah-” 

“We have to find her...” Her voice now merely above a whisper, the birds of the rainforest filling the silence. “Please...” She stated more than asked. The girls looked at her. They were worried too, but Leah seemed to be panicking even more. She scanned everyone’s faces, but when no one said a word, her heart sank into her stomach.

“S-She went in here for all of you-” She pointed a finger, “She-”

“She’s right.” Toni nodded, “Leaving her alone is a really shitty way of saying thank you for all that she’s done.”

Leah didn’t need to hear more and yelled out the girl’s name again, the others now following her lead. They hiked a good half hour before Martha stopped to pick something off the ground. It was completely covered in mud, but the shape was still inevitably that of an axe.

“Guys...” She held it in the air.

“She had that with her.” Toni nodded, remembering she’d given it to Y/N. 

“Why would she leave it here?” Marty added, “Do you think something happened?”

“Y/N!” They all started yelling, realising the girl couldn’t be far now.

“Wait, wait, wait-” Rachel, who could’ve punched the girl just a few hours before, was just as worried as the rest when she pointed at the evident slip marks in the mud. “Do you think she could have slipped?” 

“Most definitely.” Dot winced and was already making up a plan when she tried to determine how deep it was. 

“That’s her!”

Leah’s panicked yell got their attention. She pointed at something down below. It was hard to see, but if you tried, you could see the messy mop of hair and the clothes dirtied with mud lying sideways. 

“Okay, we need to make a plan-”

Leah shut down every rational thought the moment she saw Y/N’s unconscious body and slowly but clumsily let herself slide down onto her belly. Toni followed her lead immediately, yelling angrily when she got down, “Don’t stand there, fucking do something!” 

“Wait, let’s think this through first before we’re all stuck down there.” Dot stopped them. While the girls above them were trying to figure out what to do, Toni and Leah were tending to Y/N.

Toni scrunched up her face when Leah turned Y/N to lay on her lap. Y/N’s right temple was heavily coated with blood and mud. 

“That doesn’t look too good.”  

The sudden move of her body made Y/N open her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the two girls holding her. 

“Easy, I’ve got you.” Leah grabbed her cheeks to try and get a better look at her eyes, to see how responsive she really was.

Y/N suddenly realised what had happened and wanted to sit up straight until two sets of hands gently pushed her back down. She let out a cry of pain immediately.

“Sssh, just lay down, it looks like you hit your head.” But when Leah squeezed her arm to try and comfort the girl, Y/N let out another yelp.

“I’m not an expert but her elbow looks fucked up.” Leah shot Toni a look, telling her to keep her mouth shut in front of Y/N.

“I don’t feel so good.” Y/N managed to get out.

“I know- Shit, um- J-Just hold my hand.” Leah mumbled curse words under her breath, feeling terribly out of control. She didn’t know what to do or how to help the girl.

“Everything okay down there? We’re sending Rachel to help. Can Y/N stand on her own?”

“No, her arms fucked and something hit her head.” Toni replied, sending an apologetic look Leah’s way when she shot her another look. 

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t pass out on me!” Leah saw Y/N’s hazy eyes slowly open and close.

“Does anyone have water with them?!” Leah panicked. 

A bag of pecan nuts hit Toni in the head, who let out a grunt. 

“Sorry...” Martha gasped.

“It’s fine. Can you give me a heads-up on the bottle of water, though?”

“Watch out!” 

Toni waddled on her knees through the thick mud back to Y/N who was now sitting in between Leah’s legs, leaning back against the girl’s torso.

“When’s the last time you ate? Or drank?” Leah asked softly, trying not to worsen Y/N’s headache. Y/N only shrugged in return.

“Open up,” Leah held back the girl’s head and helped her drink a bit, then splattered the remaining water in her face and neck. Y/N was tired, but tried her best to keep her eyes open, if only to soothe Leah’s worries.

“Here, this’ll help.” Toni watched with a worried smile as Y/N slowly ate a few pieces. 

“Hey, let’s get you out of here, alright?” Rachel appeared with a rope made out of clothes in her hands. “We’re going to tie this around you, push you up from here so the others can pull you up. 

Y/N was too tired to reply or acknowledge the girl.

“Careful with her arm!” Leah panicked when Rachel made a move to grab her. Rachel glared at her, she wasn’t stupid.  

Toni grabbed the other side while Leah slowly pushed the girl up by her back. They tied the made up rope around the girl’s torso.

“Thank you...” Y/N mumbled out. 

“You’re gonna be alright, okay?”

The sun had gone down the minute they returned to camp. They had to tell a worried Nora everything that had happened after she saw a tired and bloody Y/N being supported by the girls. Dot had immediately given the girl some medicine and as she had dozed off, Leah made sure to gently rid the girl’s face and temple from the dried up blood and mud so that Dot could clean the wound and bandage it up.

She dapped the damp cloth onto Y/N’s temple, who furrowed her eyebrows in her sleep in return. Leah smiled softly to herself, the nerves and worries finally washing away now that she knew Y/N would be fine. 

Y/N went to turn around in her sleep but Leah quickly stopped her from putting weight onto her arm. After Dot had examined it, it seemed less severe as they had all initially thought. The wound in her elbow was deep, yes, but it was better than a broken bone. And the gash on her temple would probably leave a nasty scar, but that was all.

Y/N opened her eyes slowly after feeling the resistance. 

“I’m sorry.” Leah whispered out, a sympathetic smile on her face. “You were going to hurt your elbow. Feeling better?”

Y/N mumbled a bit, “Mm, I think...” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Don’t know if this is just the after effects of the meds or if it’s still from the exhaustion and dehydration.”

“Or your sunburn.” Nora appeared behind the two, “If you get a bad sunburn, some symptoms might be headache, fever, nausea and fatigue...” She smiled hesitantly when the two stared at her. “Here, this might help.” 

Leah grabbed the bottle of after sun and inspected it suspiciously before eyeing Nora again, “Where did you get this?”

“Oh... it washed up on shore.. when you were all gone.”

“Thanks, Nora.” 

Nora trudged back to the rest sitting around the campfire.

Y/N quickly dodged her head to the side when Leah made a move to smear the after sun on her face.

“What are you doing?!”

Leah sighed, “Let me help you.”

“You know, we could all use a bit of after sun. I don’t really need it.” 

“Y/N.”

“I’m good, my sunburn isn’t that bad, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Stop being so incredibly stubborn and let me take care of you for once, okay?”

Y/N widened her eyes and after a few seconds of silence she let Leah smear the cool ointment onto her cheeks. A content hum left her lips, she immediately felt her skin calm down.

“Feels better, huh?” Leah playfully smeared some onto the girl’s nose, who only hissed in return.

“I’m good, it doesn’t hurt.” Leah mocked.

“Fuck you.” 

The two chuckled. Y/N quickly found herself staring into Leah’s eyes, who in return, was concentrated on tending to the girl’s face. However, Leah noticed after a while. She stopped her movements when she realised why she had been extra worried today— she cared for Y/N way more than just a friend should. 

She inched closer to Y/N’s face before coming to an abrupt stop, the hesitance taking over for just a split second— what if Y/N didn’t feel the same? But the look in the wounded girl’s eyes spoke differently. 

Leah planted a quick and shy kiss on Y/N’s lips. Leah sat back up immediately and cleared her throat, looking around as if nothing had happened. What the fuck had she done? A sudden tug on the hem of her shirt brought her back just mere inches away from the girl’s face. Y/N pulled her into another kiss, one that lasted longer than a second but was still just as gentle as before. Y/N let out a lighthearted chuckle when Leah pulled back.

“W-What?”

“You’ve got a little...” Y/N smeared out the after sun on Leah’s cheek before looking down, feeling embarrassed.

“Thank you for coming after me. Fatin told me you didn’t want me to go alone. I should really listen to you more often.”

Leah laughed at Y/N’s cheeky smile, “Yeah! You should!” 

Another moment was spent in silence before Leah opened her arms and sat back against the log, “Come here.”

Y/N let out a content sigh as she relaxed in the brunette’s tight hold while the two of them watched the flickering of the fire. 

Life on the island was rough, but having Leah made it so much easier.

[smile-hotch]

Red Dress - Aaron Hotchner

Hello and welcome to another Aaron work!  This is the first one I’ve done in a while, so enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse (ties to the victims)

word count: 1,844

Penelope Garcia, in a rush as always, walked into the conference room with an armful of files.  Her eyes danced along the table and a frown formed on her lips.  “Hello, my fine friends,” she greeted as she began to pass out files to each person.  As she came around to Aaron Hotchner, she paused.  “Sir, I can’t get (Y/N) on the phone.”

For a split second, Aaron’s eyes darted around the table.  “Debrief us and then Morgan and I will go to her house for a welfare check.”  His voice was cool but urgent as he looked back down at the file.  

Nodding quickly, Penelope put her back to the large screen in the room and held the remote up on her hand.  “Unfortunately, our little friend who kidnaps political figures is back,” she began and flashed the image of a dead woman in a police uniform.  “This is officer Sheryl Garrett.  She was reported missing a week ago today after not showing up for work and was found dead two hours ago in an alley two blocks from her house.  As you can see,” Penelope changed the picture, “there are lacerations on her neck and wrists, like the last two victims.”

“All of who were political figures?”  Derek Morgan asked as he set the pictures down.  

Penelope nodded vigorously.  “The first victim was Megan Shelly, as you may remember.”  She showed her pictures on the screen.  She was the founder of a non-profit organization serving victims of domestic abuse in the city.”

Jennifer Jareau pressed her lips together briefly.  “And she was taken two months ago?”

“Exactly two months ago from the time Sheryl Garrett was abducted.”  Aaron’s dark eyes didn’t bother looking up from the file.  

Spencer looked up.  “Perhaps our unsub has a particular disdain for those assisting victims of domestic abuse.” 

Penelope pointed to Spencer.  “Let me finish my speech before you get to the point.  The second victim was city councilwoman Sharon Rubel, who’s campaign focused greatly on punishing those convicted of domestic abuse and protecting the victims.  She was taken from her home exactly a month ago from the date of Officer Garrett’s abduction.  And Officer Garrett worked in the domestic abuse division of her precinct.”

David Ross hummed.  “And he is obviously spiraling.  His timeline is shortening, his cuts are becoming sloppier.  If we don’t catch him soon, there could be at a lot less domestic abuse activists in this city.”  His fingers flipped through the pages.

Penelope held up her hand, silencing her friends once more.  “The unsub also left a note for the first time in Officer Garrett’s house, as you can see here.”  She put the picture on the television.

It is only going to get bigger.

“Bigger?”  Derek scoffed.  “Does that mean he is going to go after a congresswoman, maybe?”

JJ, her face paling slightly, looked up at the rest of his team.  “I hate to even speculate this, but wasn’t (Y/N) an attorney that only worked with domestic abuse victims?”

Abruptly, Aaron stood and closed his file.  “JJ and Rossi, go to the precinct and see if there have been any disgruntled offenders.  Reid, you and Prentiss need to go to the dumpsite.  Penelope, keep calling (Y/N) and pull the cases she worked on in .  Look to see if any of the offenders were released from jail shortly before the first murder, and cross reference the last victim’s cases with (Y/N)’s.  Morgan, you’re with me.”  With that, the team dispersed.  Aaron marched off towards his office with Derek on his heels.  

“Should I get (Y/N)’s address from Garcia?”  Derek questioned as he followed Aaron into his office, where he took the gun from his desk and holstered it on his ankle.  

He grabbed the car keys for one of the bureau's cars off his desk and walked by Derek.  “You don’t need to.”

The ride to your house was achingly stiff.  Derek tried to talk possible motives with Aaron regarding the case at hand, but all conversation was quick and stern.  “With all due respect, sir, what’s going on with you?”  Derek asked as they pulled up outside your house.

Aaron leaped from the car without answering Derek and began towards the door without waiting.  Shaking his head, Derek rushed to catch up with Aaron.  Without hesitating, Aaron reached for the front door handle, and it opened with ease.  “Not locked?”  Derek asked as Aaron glanced in the house.

He shook his head.  “That’s not like her,” he muttered and pulled his gun from holster before pushing the door open more with his foot.  Immediately, as they entered your living room, Aaron cursed loudly.  In black paint, across the painting you did of the farm you grew up on as a child, was “IT IS ONLY GETTING BIGGER” in messy, scrawled handwriting.  

“I’m calling backup,” Derek said as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  Aaron frantically searched the house for any sign of you, but there was none.  He came back down the stairs of your home, spotting Derek in the kitchen, looking closely at your back door, leading to your backyard.  “I think he was waiting for her last night, after work.”

Aaron’s face paled as he looked at the back door as well, where the scratch marks on the trim indicated someone breaking in.  “It had to be later that night,” Aaron finally said to Derek as he looked away.  

Crossing his arms, Derek narrowed his eyes.  “If there is something you know, you need to tell me.” 

Aaron felt a burst of anger in his head.  He wanted to throw, destroy something, anything.  “(Y/N) was with me last night.  He had to be waiting for her after I dropped her off shortly after ten o’clock last night.”  

Derek raised his eyebrows.  Normally, he would hound Aaron about this information, but he couldn’t.  Not when you weren’t there to face it as well.  “What was she wearing last night so I can have law enforcement put an APB out?”  

A slight blush formed on Aaron’s face at the thought of it.  “A sleeveless red silk dress and black heels.” 

Again, Derek raised his eyebrows.  “Damn.”  He walked away, putting the phone to his ear.  Aaron turned away, walking through the house as he, too, started calling people.  

As he wandered into the living room once more, he avoided looking at the ruined painting above the fireplace.  “Hotch?  Did you find (Y/N)?”  Rossi’s voice flooded through the phone immediately.

“He has her,” he answered stiffly as his eyes landed on one of his own ties laying across the back of one of your antique chairs.  He picked it up, running his thumb along it, and pressed his lips together.  “Have you found anything at the precinct?”  

Rossi fell silent for a moment.  “We’ll find her, Aaron.  You know we will.”  The silence that met his words made Rossi sigh.  “Truthfully, it seems almost all offenders are disgruntled on out latest victim’s end.  I’ve sent the particularly violent ones to Garcia to cross examine.”  

“Let me know if you find anything,” Aaron told him and hung up the phone without another word.  

Aaron felt guilty, for leaving her on her own the night before.  He knew that there was no way for him to predict that this would happen, but still felt at fault for it.  However, the guilt was nothing compared to the anger he felt for anyone daring to hurt you.  

~.~

It took two more days before JJ discovered a break in the case that led the team to the unsub.  You were gone for three whole days, and there was always the biting thought in the back of everyone’s mind that you were long passed alive and not even with them anymore, but they still had to find you, in whatever capacity that may be.  

The unsub failed to hear the team enter his home, as he was sleeping soundly on the couch, and Derek Morgan flipped him off to the ground incredibly hard and cuffed him as the others searched for you.  JJ and Spencer searched the large yard and shed behind the large, Victorian style home, while Emily, Aaron, and Rossi began to tear the house apart.  Local law enforcement took the man into custody and dragged from the home as he shouted and screamed about the unfairness in the judicial system and the rats that cared about the victims of domestic abuse. 

Aaron anger built up as he tore down the steps of the house, into the basement.  A door at the end of the room had a single lock on the outside of it, and without hesitating, Aaron kicked the flimsy door in.  

The lights in the room were an odd shade of red, and there you were, tied to a chair in the middle of the room.  “I’ve got her,” Aaron shouted up the house.

With your arms tied behind your back and legs tied together at the knees and ankles both, you were completely unable to move.  There was a gag in your mouth, tied around your head and stained with a mixture of blood and tears.  You still wore your red dress, which now had a tear up the side and blood along the top, but still looked beautiful to Aaron.  

With wide, pleading eyes, you whined into the cloth as Aaron quickly fell to his knees in front of you and began carefully cutting the rope around your knees and ankles.  “(Y/N), are you hurt?”  He asked as your legs were free, and he untied the cloth from around your head.

With a busted bottom lip and a thin cut across your cheek, you shook your head.  “Just a few bumps and cuts, is all.”  Your voice was gravelly and sounded dry.  “I could really use a drink.”

Aaron chuckled as he cut your hands free, and you rubbed your wrists immediately.  “You had me so worried,” he mumbled as he stood, holding a hand out to you. 

Your black heels felt taller than ever as you tried to stand.  Stumbling, Aaron caught you and quickly frowned.  “Ah, haven’t walked in a minute,” you explained and held onto his arm tightly.  As you straightened and stretched your legs, Aaron watched you closely.  “I wasn’t worried.”  Aaron furrowed his eyebrows.  “I knew you’d find me, Aaron.” 

Slowly, you stood on your toes, even in your heels, and kissed him so gently.  You ignored the pain of your busted lip as you grabbed his shoulders, steadying you further. 

Carefully, Aaron pulled you against him, deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.  After a moment, you both pulled away with red faces.  Law enforcement rushed down the stairs at that point, and you moved your hands to his arm once more.  “Take me home, please.  I can’t wait to get out of this dress.” 

Aaron, fighting the smirk on his lips, spoke quietly to her.  “I quite like you in it, actually.”

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 3

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

3.

Bishop was standing outside the clubhouse, smoking a cigarette, when they rolled in. Nina got off the bike, feeling strangely like a teenager caught breaking curfew. She nodded at the president, and was about to move towards the trailer, when Angel grabbed her hand, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Thanks for… last night”, he said. “You too”, Nina said. He gave her a crooked smile, and was about to say something else, when Bishop called out for him. “Angel… Inside. We need to talk”. Angel nodded. “Daddy’s angry”, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Yeah”, she replied, and Angel walked off.

“Yo, sweetheart!”, Bishop called after her, as she once again moved towards the trailer. Nina sighed, and turned to look at him. “I made a promise to Chibs. When you pull a stunt like this, you make it really fucking hard to keep that promise”. Angel halted behind his president, a confused look on his face. “I didn’t leave without a patch”, Nina replied. “Followed your rules”. Bishop narrowed his eyes at her. “His patch ain’t the one you should be worried about…”. Nina swallowed hard, and nodded; though slightly confused at his words. “Ok. Sorry”. Bishop’s expression softened. “Look, just… be careful, ok?”. Nina nodded, and he smirked slightly. “You know, you’re lucky I make him get tested every two weeks”. Angel frowned, and Nina chuckled; before finally turning around, and walking over to the trailer, letting herself inside.

She quickly got dressed in clean clothes. The heat hadn’t exactly waned, so Nina decided to switch jeans for shorts and a top. She reminded herself to ask someone about taking her to a laundromat; not having packed a lot. She’d been told to leave her small apartment at home in as normal a state as possible. In case someone did come looking for her, SAMCRO didn’t want to let them know she’d run. She picked up her jacket to hang it, and a shudder went through her body, as she fished her .38 out of the pocket. It felt heavier than it should, in spite of its smallness, and she felt bile rise in her throat. A hard knock on the door made her jolt, and she quickly hid the gun under her helmet; before she went over to open. EZ was standing outside, with a friendly smile on his face. “’Morning”, he said. “It is”, Nina replied. “I got breakfast-burritos in the clubhouse”, he offered. Nina shook her head with a smile. “You didn’t need to do that”. “I know what’s in my brother’s fridge. I doubt he fed you”, EZ grinned. “Come on”.

She followed the prospect back to the clubhouse, where EZ gestured for her to take a seat by a table. Nina noticed the ginger woman Coco had been spending time with the night before, was seated by the bar; legs crossed and tits pushed out, smiling at the biker, who was trying to ignore her, and focus on his game of pool with Gilly. EZ put a plate on the table in front of Nina, with a delicious smelling burrito. “Gabby… She’s a good cook”, he said, his voice adoring. Nina bit in to it, and couldn’t do anything but agree. “This is delicious. Tell her thanks”, she smiled.

The door to templo opened, and Bishop came out with Taza, Riz and Angel in tow. “She’s business, Angel. You treat her like any other business we have going on”, Bishop said, and walked over to the bar, accepting a beer from the girl behind it. “You wouldn’t shove your dick down the barrel of an mk47, would you?”, Taza asked. Angel stood with his back to Nina, not having noticed her. “It wouldn’t fit, anyway”, he shrugged. “Just, don’t complicate things”, Bishop said. “Bish, it ain’t like that”, Angel said. Bishop looked at him in disbelief. “We fucked, yeah; but…”. Taza noticed Nina watching them, and patted Angel’s shoulder. He turned around, and locked eyes with her; looking like a handsome deer caught in headlights.

Nina looked down, and chewed her lips. At least they were on the same page, she tried to convince herself. She didn’t know Angel from the next guy; all she did know, was that he was damn good in bed, and liked beers, babes and bikes. They’d had sex, that was it. Still, she couldn’t help but feel his words chafe a bit. There was a long moment of silence, before Nina decided to put Angel – and herself– out of their misery. “I was bored, and his shower has good pressure”, she said. Angel let out an embarrassed laugh, and shrugged, while his friends shook their heads, letting a roaring laughter fill the room.

Everyone went about their biker business, and Nina went back to her breakfast; having lost most of her appetite. She wrapped up the burrito, and pushed away the plate. A mug of coffee was set down in front of her, and she looked up to meet EZ’s apologetic eyes. “I’m… sorry, about that”, he muttered. “My brother… he’s a good guy, but…”. “I know how it is. Don’t worry about it”, she smiled in reply. “How is it, then?”, Angel asked, having walked over to them. EZ left them to it. “I got an itch scratched, and you got your dick wet. Life goes on”, Nina said. Angel made a labored sigh, and scratched his bearded chin. “Look, Nina. I’m…”. She got on her feet, and put a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Angel. We’re good”, she smiled, and got on her toes, to kiss his cheek; doing her best to avoid enjoying his scent. “We had fun”. He chewed his lip for a moment. “Yeah, we had fun…”. Taza called for him, and Angel took a step back. “I gotta go take care of something. See you around, Nina”. He went off to talk to the VP.

Nina took a few sips of her coffee, before walking over to get behind the bar. She smiled friendlily at the blonde girl standing there – the same girl, in fact, that Angel had turned down the night before – who looked at her indifferently, and handed her a rag to wipe down the counter. This was familiar territory, and she smiled to herself, as she handed a pair of cold ones to Gilly and Coco; who’d finished their game, and came over to the bar. The redhead immediately pressed up against Coco, who looked like he wanted to dig himself into a deep hole. “Can I get you anything else, baby?”, she asked, making clear her intentions. “Nah, I’m good. Let me talk to my brothers for a moment, yeah?”, he replied. “Sure… I’m just gonna go fix my lipstick”, the woman winked at him, and walked towards the bathroom. “When’s the wedding?”, Gilly asked. “Fuck you”, Coco snarled, before nodding at Letty, who’d just walked in the door – looking hungover. “I can’t get her to leave”. “Who?”, Letty asked, and accepted a coke from Nina. “Just some chick. I told her the deal, but it’s like she didn’t hear me”, Coco said.

Letty rolled her eyes, and gave the woman a once over, as she came back from the bathroom. When she was once again pressed against Coco – who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second – Letty took pity on him, and walked over to the pair; putting her head on Coco’s shoulder. “Are you my new mommy?”, she smiled innocently at the ginger; who froze in place. Suddenly, it was like she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Sorry, I gotta go”, she muttered, and scuttered of in haste. Coco smiled crookedly, and shook his head. “You’re crazy, mija”, he said. “Nah, I just don’t want a stepmom, who wears that shade of lipstick”, Letty said, and went back to her coke.

Bishop cleared his throat. “Well, if everyone’s got their dicks back in their pants, we got some business to tend to”, he said. The Mayans all scattered, and went to their respective jobs around the yard, and wherever else they went, when they did their business.

---

Nina spent the rest of the day getting her bearings around the scrap-yard, and its office. Chucky’s filing-system might have seemed chaotic to anyone else, but Nina knew it well, and was happy to be occupied with something other than thinking about a certain Mayan and his well-shaped body – especially how it looked naked. A gorgeous Latina girl showed up in the afternoon, carrying a fantastic smelling bag of Tupperware, and looking for EZ; and Nina was finally introduced to the person who had made her delicious breakfast. She immediately understood why EZ was smitten with Gabby, and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them dancing around each other like a pair of puppies in love. They took off after an hour or so, so EZ could drive Gabriella home. He returned with the largest smile she’d ever seen on anyone’s face, and went straight to work on a road king in the garage.

During dinner, feasting on Gabby’s delicious tamales with EZ, Nina asked about laundromats. “There’s one, but there’s only one functioning dryer, and it smells like feet”, EZ said. “I can wait a few days, but I still need to go at some point”, Nina said. “And I need to get a prescription filled. That’s kind of urgent”. Her inhaler was almost empty, she’d realized that morning. A roar of bikes came from outside, and Nina got on her feet, taking the plates to wash them behind the bar. EZ followed her, nodding at Bishop, Riz and Angel, as they entered the clubhouse. “Drug-stores round here are closed at this time of night, but I’ll ask Bishop if I can take you in the morning”, he said. Nina groaned, and looked out the corner of her eye at the president. “It’s like needing a fucking hall-pass if I even think about leaving this place”, she muttered. EZ chuckled, and wiped off the plates after she’d washed them. “Yeah, why is that? Are you on the run from the cops or something?”. Nina looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling the need to wash them thoroughly. Scrubbing them hard under the tap, she shrugged indifferently. “Chibs is just protective, I guess. And I hear this area is overrun by outlaw bikers”. “You know it!”, Riz exclaimed, having arrived at the counter with Angel. “Coffee, please; sweetheart. I’m gonna be spending the night prepping for the run tomorrow”. Nina poured Riz a mug, and looked at Angel. “Dos Equis”, he said, his demeanor cool. Nina served him the beer, avoiding eye-contact.

“Do you need me for the run tomorrow?”, EZ asked. “No. Why?”, Riz asked. “Nina needs to take care of some stuff in town, and I was gonna take her”. Angel took a sip of his beer, and looked between Nina and EZ. “What stuff?”, he said with an edge to his voice. EZ scoffed, and shook his head. “Bro, come on…”, he said. Riz raised his brows, and backed away from the counter; obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. “The drug-store, Angel. And then we might go have an orgy; I haven’t decided yet”, Nina said sarcastically. Angel raised his hands in mock defeat. “Hey, Bish told us to look out for you. I’m just keeping my eyes on business here”. “Yeah… I’m gonna turn in. See you tomorrow, EZ”. The prospect looked at her apologetically. “I’ll talk to Bishop”, he said. Nina nodded, and walked towards the door.

A strong hand grabbed her lower arm before she could walk outside. Nina scowled up at Angel, who looked remorsefully at her. “I’m sorry, Nina. That was shitty of me”, he said. “Don’t worry about it. You should be sorrier about suggesting that your brother would cheat on his girlfriend”, she replied. Angel looked back at EZ, and nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I know”, he muttered. “Are we good, cuervo?”. “Of course”, Nina said. “Goodnight, Angel”. She pulled out of his grasp, and left the clubhouse.

---

The next day, Taza, Riz, Creeper, Angel and Coco got on their bikes, and in a van, to go north for the SAMCRO-delivery. “Say hi to Rat and Quinn for me, would you?”, Nina said from the porch, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. “Will do”, Taza promised, and started his bike. “Let’s not keep reaper waiting”. Angel sent Nina a slight smile, before Coco patted his shoulder to make him start the van.

EZ had managed to convince Bishop of the urgency of Nina’s drug-store run, and after helping out at the office for a few hours, she got on the back of his bike, to have him take her in to town. Angel had lied about his brother’s ability to ride with a passenger – a fact that didn’t surprise Nina, by the way – because he was probably the safest driver she’d ever ridden with. Overly safe, some might say. The prospect avoided every bump, and kept well bellow the speed-limit all the way.

After Nina had used her fake ID – No paper trail, luv, Filip had said – to get her new inhaler, EZ asked if she’d be ok with a short stop by his pap’s. Nina couldn’t say no to meeting the elder Reyes; curious to see what kind of man had sired two such different men. Seeing Gabriella behind the counter of Felipe Reyes’ butcher-shop, Nina understood the prospect’s real reason for wanting to visit his father; though there was no lack of love between him and Felipe, that much was evident by the way they looked at each other.

“She’s playing pop-music again, Ezekiel”, Felipe said, gesturing at a small stereo that was blaring the charts, as he came over to greet his son. “Amas mi musica”, Gabby grinned. “Hi, Nina”. “Hey, Gabby. Thanks for all the food!”, Nina replied with a smile. “You’re welcome”. After EZ had kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, he gestured towards Nina. “Pap, this is Nina. She’s new in town”. Felipe shook Nina’s hand. “Is my boy giving you a tour of the potholes?”, he asked. “No, he’s the most boring biker I’ve ever ridden with”, she replied with a smile, getting a guffawing laughter from the man. “See, EZ? I told you!”, Gabby grinned. “Hey!”, EZ laughed. “I’m just safe”. “Boring!”, Gabby said.

As EZ and Gabriella went to whisper sweet nothings behind the counter, Nina went to examine the bookcase Felipe had exhibited in his shop. “Looking for some light reading?”, Felipe asked. “Always… And, giving the lovebirds some space”, Nina replied, and looked towards the smiling pair behind the counter. She picked up a picture of two smiling boys, each on a bicycle; smiling proudly at the camera. For a second, she felt a sting in her heart. “That’s EZ”, Felipe said, and pointed at the smaller boy. “And the other one is my eldest”. “Angel”, Nina said. Felipe chuckled. “You’ve met him”, he said. “I’m staying at the scrapyard”, she replied. Felipe raised a brow at her. “You’re the one who has EZ sleeping on my couch”. Nina felt her cheeks beginning to burn, and put down the picture again. “Yeah, I’m… sorry”, she said. “Don’t be. It’s good to have him home at least some of the time. That… club, takes up a lot of his time”. Nina chewed her lips for a moment. “You don’t like the club”, she said. Felipe met her eyes for a second, looking tired suddenly. “Sorry, it’s not my place”, she muttered. “No… No, it’s alright”, he said, a smile forcing it’s way onto his face. “I suppose all parents have higher hopes for their children, than…”. “Riding around on motorbikes, and wearing leather in the 100 degrees desert sun?”, Nina said, returning his smile. “That too”, Felipe said. “Are you what they call a… hangaround?”. Nina’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. “Pap, that’s rude”, EZ said, having joined them by the bookcase. “I’m sorry, Nina. I’m not clear on the lingo”, Felipe said. Nina laughed heartily. “It’s fine. Really”, she said. “I guess I am. Sort of. It’s a long story”.

EZ put a hand on Nina’s shoulder. “Angel called. They’re on their way back. We should get back to the yard”. Nina nodded, and went to follow him to the door. “Come back some time if you need something to read”, Felipe said. “Or a steak”. “I might take you up on that”, Nina smiled, and followed EZ out to his bike.

They rode back to the yard; this time with EZ hitting a few bumps on the way there.

---

The Mayans that had gone on the run returned to the clubhouse shortly after Nina and EZ. She got right to work behind the bar. It was easy to fall in line as a club hangaround; Nina knew the deal. Serve the beer, keep out of the way, smile, and pretend like you don’t hear or see any of the illegal stuff going on. Her role also made it easier to avoid eye contact with Angel. She was, for lack of a better word, furniture. It hadn’t been completely the same in Charming, though. There, she’d been far from the regular hangaround, and her status as family made it near impossible for her to be a croweater – god knows, Juice had tried, in his day. The memory of the biker made her frown in sadness for a second, before she shook herself, and served a round of whiskey to a Riz, Creeper and Angel; accepting a shot herself.

“Oh yeah. That scrawny guy, Rat, brought something you forgot at their clubhouse”, Riz said. He handed her a leather-bound journal. Nina sighed when she took it from him. She hadn’t as much forgotten it, as left it behind; telling herself it was by accident. Opening it was always a strange mix of warm emotions and pain. “Thanks”, she muttered. “Is it a diary, or something?”, Creeper asked. “It’s… yeah, something like that”. “Yours? Like; dear diary. Today I drank too much tequila, and lost my panties…”, he jeered. Getting a little tired of Creepers attitude, she smirked at him. “More like; dear diary. Today, a stupid ass biker kept bringing up an embarrassing drunk-story; so, I shot him in the head…”. Her heart dropped as she said the final words, and she cleared her throat. Riz and Creeper laughed at what they found to be a great come-back, while Angel seemed less amused, as he examined her face. She gave them all a strained smile. “I’m gonna go get some air. Leave you gentlemen to it”, she said, grabbed the journal, a cigarette and a lighter, and hurried out of the clubhouse.

Once outside, she went over to the cage she’d been told the club settled their internal arguments in. It was cooler now, and the sky was full of stars. She went inside the cage, and sat down on the ground; lighting her cigarette, before opening the journal. For a long moment, she just sat there, looking at the picture fastened to the inside of it; of two young boys, smiling. The youngest one was sitting on the back of a pony, that the older one was holding the reins of.

“You want me to kick Creep’s ass for you?”. Nina looked up at Angel, who’d followed her outside. He stepped inside the cage, and leaned against the fence. “I’ll fuck him up. I don’t care if he is a brother”. “No, it’s fine. He was just joking around”, Nina replied. Angel sauntered towards her slowly. “He’s trying to get in your pants, querida”, he said. “Well, add enough tequila to the equation, maybe he’s got a shot”. She raised a brow at the tall biker. “Ouch… Moving on so soon, cuervo?”, Angel said with a slight smile. “Jealous?”, she teased. “Always”, he replied – exactly as she’d hoped – and sat down next to her.

For a long moment, all that could be heard was the sound of cicadas. Angel ran a finger over the picture of Abel and Thomas. “These your kids?”, he asked quietly. “No… But, they’re family. Sort of”, Nina replied. “You got kids?”. “I fucking hope not”, Angel grinned. “I’d just screw them up”. “You’re not so bad”, she said, and nudged him with her shoulder. “Mind telling my pap that?”. Nina raised a brow at him, not wanting to push him to talk about something he wasn’t comfortable with. He took the journal out of her hands, and looked at the two smiling boys in the picture. “Family, you know. Shit… My old man looks at EZ like he’s the sun and moon combined. Me… I’m the fuckup. Even more now, that I dragged his golden boy in to the club”. “EZ’s a big boy. He makes his own decisions… we all do, at the end of the day”, Nina said, and took back the journal. She took a few huffs of her cigarette. “You look at him that way too, you know”. “I do?”, Angel frowned. “Fuck, I hope he hasn’t noticed”. “It’s not wrong to be proud of someone worthy of it. And in spite of your… bad-boy demeanor, he seems to be proud of you as well”.

Angel pondered her words for a moment, before looking at her “Sorry, I was supposed to make you feel better. That’s why I came out here. I saw how you looked when Creeper was talking about that thing”, he said, and nodded towards the journal. “It’s ok”, Nina said, and closed it; hugging it against her chest. “I’m just protective of it, is all”. “Like with the helmet?”, he asked. Nina nodded. “You wanna tell me about it?”. “What?”, she whispered. “Those kids… Whoever you got that helmet from… Why we’re sitting on you here, like you’re under witness protection or something…?”. He nudged her shoulder like she had his, and smiled a little. His expression was warm, like he actually cared about what she had to say. The closeness between them felt dangerous, at the same time as it felt perfectly safe, and right.

Nina took a breath, and was about to shrug him of – give him some half story, about being friendly with SAMCRO – when she met Angel’s eyes. His gaze was earnest; trustworthy, even. “The helmet used to belong to my… someone I used to be really close to. Those are his kids in the picture…”, she said. “I’m holding on to this until they get older. He asked me to give it to them when they're old enough to read it”. “And he died?”, Angel said. “Crashed his bike into an oncoming truck…”, she said. “Shit… I’m sorry. Who was he to you?”. Nina sighed, and smiled softly. “The sun and moon combined”, she said. “Your brother?”, Angel asked confusedly. “Not biologically”, Nina chuckled. “But he took care of me. Treated me like a sister. After he died, the club still kept me close, like family”. “So, you have a whole club of family back in Charming. Why leave?”, Angel asked. Nina’s throat instantly went dry, and she looked at the ground. “A bad break-up”, she replied, her voice breaking. “I needed a fresh start”. Angel didn’t question her; merely seemed to accept her words for truth, and moved on.

They sat in silence for a moment longer, before he suddenly looked like he was beginning to put two and two together. “Your… brother. He was SAMCRO…”. She nodded. “And he crashed headfirst into a truck”. “Yeah…”, Nina whispered, the air thick with the truth being exposed. “Holy shit… I fucked Jackson Teller’s baby sis!”, Angel exclaimed. Nina felt her stomach churn at his words. “That’s like… royalty! I should get my dick silvered or something”. Nina stubbed out her cigarette. “If he was still around, he’d probably do it himself; while it was still attached to you”. Angel winced. “Shit, yeah. That man had a reputation. He was like the boogeyman to Mayan prospects in my day. I heard that one time, he shot a guy in both legs for pinching some hangaround chick’s ass”. “He didn’t shoot him, he just broke all his fingers”, Nina muttered. Angel’s eyes widened. “That was your ass, huh…”, he said, more as a statement, than a question. “It wasn’t Chucky, was it? Is that why he’s got those…”. He wiggled his fingers in the air. “No… That was something else…”, Nina replied. “Jax wasn’t just that, though. He was a good man”. Angel nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, too”. He studied her face for a long moment. “You loved him”, he said, finally. “Like, loved him”. Nina looked confusedly at him, before she caught his meaning. “What? No…! He was family. Just that”, she replied truthfully. Angel smiled crookedly. “Good. It ain’t easy fighting a ghost over a girl”, he said.

Nina felt a smile tug at her lips, but wasn’t ready to be sweet-talked by the guy who’d openly admitted she was a one-night stand, just the day before. “I thought we agreed what this was…”, she said. “Did we? I didn’t agree to anything”. He raised his brows at her, and smiled wryly. “What happened to consent?”. “That’s not how that works”, Nina laughed. “Let’s agree to disagree about that, ma'”, Angel said. Nina sighed deeply. “You told Bishop; we fucked, yeah. But… “. Angel looked taken aback. “Are you like my brother or something? Do you remember everything?”. “I remember that”, Nina said, a slight edge to her voice. Angel frowned at her. “You never considered maybe I was about to say; we fucked, yeah. But I like this girl? Or; this girl is different?”. “You were probably about to say; she gives good head”, Nina scoffed. “You don’t know me well enough to like me, or think I’m special”. “We could change that”, Angel said. “Spend some time together… I get that you’re just passing through, and that you kind of belong to another club, because of this thing with Teller, but…”.

Nina felt a sudden rage bubble through her. “I’m not a goddamn trophy!”, she hissed. “You don’t get to use me like some big fuck you to SAMCRO, for tapping one of their girls. Fuck that!” “That’s not what I’m saying", Angel said. Nina got to her feet and backed away from him. Her breath was catching, and she felt an oncoming asthma-attack. She often got them when got upset, but couldn’t find it in herself to calm down. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I know guys like you; measuring your pride in the amount of pussy you can get to climb on the back of your bike”. She didn’t realize the harshness of her words, before she saw Angel’s expression. He got on his feet himself, and looked at her with hard eyes. “You should be careful sitting out here, Nina" he said, and looked at the cage-fence surrounding them. “Someone might thing you’re gunning for a fight". While Nina stood frozen in place, he walked out of the cage, and got on his bike; driving out of the lot.

“Fuck!”, she growled at herself, and stumbled towards the trailer. Once inside, she scrambled to find her inhaler, and took a hit; feeling her lungs return to normal function. “Fuck…”, she repeated, and collapsed on the cot; clutching the journal in her arms.

---

[blocksandbloops]

May I interest you in some fem!hermit!Tommy fluff for you in this trying time?

This is set in an alternative version of @redorich 's hermit!Tommy AU. Diverging from the Dream SMP's raid on Hermitcraft. All you need to know is that family trees are convoluted, Tommy's name is Clementine. She's trans, we love her, she has wings and has adopted Grian as her weird almost twin brother.

After the whole "Dreamon" and "invasion" mess the Dream SMP folk didn't expect to hear much from the hermits besides the ones who attended MCC. They thought that the two servers would just continue to exist, independent of one another. Just drifting through the void mere inches apart but never really touching.

Oh how wrong they were.

The hermits were friendly but they had absolutely underestimated just how friendly.

Apparently, the moment Clementine so much as breathed a word about how much she missed her biological family, Scar -ever the kind and helpful mayor that he was- decided to throw a beach party!

Since Clemmy's extended family was pretty large and they didn't want anyone to feel left out, it was an open invitation to everyone on the Dream SMP as long as they behaved.

That point was driven home when a few people, like Antfrost and his unhealed, dog bitten asscheek, mentioned how upsetting the Hermits was definitely not a good idea.

(Deep down they knew that the reason they were really doing this was because the hermits were worried about them. The Dream SMP was just a bunch of traumatized children according to them. They weren't wrong in that assumption but no one wanted to admit that.)

So, when the day of the beach party finally dawned, they all put on their least threatening outfits and packed up their supplies, (where Tubbo got the surf board nobody wanted to question) and entered the portal just like they had done a few months prior.

A few things were different though, the sun was bright and beaming in the sky, soft puffy white clouds rolled by, only promising gentle shade instead of the dreary air of yesteryear.

The shopping district had been rebuilt from it's smoky ruins and they finally all had time to appreciate the lovingly built shops and roads. It looked so beautiful and vibrant, you could practically feel the fact that summer was in full swing.

The smell of nectar and sea salt drifted through the air, sweetening even the sourest of moods. This is what peace was to the hermits. This was their everyday. They were so lucky and they didn't even realize it.

Some people were taking notes of all the different building styles with bright eyes, hoping to replicate some of it when they got home, others were suddenly hit with a feeling of bitter inadequacy of it compared to their homes. Is this what a world without war could look like?

But, no matter the gloomy musings of the few, they were all here to let go for a day! To celebrate the good times and to kick back for seemingly the first time in forever.

Their welcome party this time simply consisted of one person.

It was a strange sight, seeing the Hermits' admin Xisuma without a mask on, wearing a god awful hawaiian shirt that Keralis had thrown at him with glee the moment he mentioned that he didn't have something to wear, and again, were those, gods forbid crocks?

"'Ello everyone! Wow this is quite the turn up. Scar wished he could be here to greet you all personally, but he's still too busy helping the others preparing for the barbecue, so you're stuck with me for the time being.

Now, if you'll kindly follow me, we set everything up pretty close to here, so we'll be there in a minute."

The walk over to the beach was short, but just as scenic as the rest of the server.

Warm, golden sand, gently lapping waves and lush plant life. The sound of the hermits' laughter and soft music filled the air as the smell of the previously mentioned barbecue proved a welcome distraction from whatever the hell was happening on the far right side of the beach (the ZIT trio built a karaoke machine. It was Zedaph's idea. It was also a horrible idea but they didn't seem to realize that yet.)

As they began to debate a plan of attack, no wait. ... fun? enjoyment? eh whatever.

A tall man jogged up to the group. Some people recognized him as Mumbo Jumbo, that one british guy with the mustache. Others, however, as that semi-scary redstone wizard who managed to create extremely powerful potion launchers during the invasion.

He was dressed just as down to earth as the others, holding a tall glass of lemonade in his hand and wearing a (quite goofy) sunhat he borrowed from Ren.

He was explaining something to X in hushed tones (something or other about a minor fire at the barbecue table?) When he looked past the gathering of guests and out towards the path that they had come from, and screeched.

"GRIAN PLEASE I'M HOLDING LEMONADE DON'T!" X reached over and grabbed the glass from his hands just in time for a cackling, feathered ball of something to crash into Mumbo, knocking him into the water with an audible "oof".

There was wild thrashing as the two tried to orient themselves, Grian somehow climbing onto Mumbo's back.

"CLEMMY! COME HELP ME DROWN MUMBO!" Grian waved towards a cluster of trees to their left, underneath which a small gathering of hermits was enjoying a bit of a reprieve from the sun.

"NOT YOU TOO!" came the mustachioed man's scream of distress.

Clementine, the whole terrifying six feet and three inches of a woman that she was, took off running to the water at full tilt towards the struggling brits.

Mumbo, having already formed a strategy in his head, did a perfect T-pose and feel backwards into the water, bringing down a screaming Grian with him. Clementine did a graceful swan dive into the water (how she executed that shall be left for viewer interpretation) and happily joined the fray, even the distressed calls of Stress behind her because "Gods damn it Clemmy! I spent an hour on your hair! And now it's ruined!" couldn't persuade her to give up on her mission to cause as much friendly chaos as possible.

She climbed out of the water a few minutes later, her hair a mess and a bright smile on her face.

"Techie! Wilby! Tubbo! Thank you guys so much for coming! I'm really glad that you could make it." She hugged them each close, enjoying the comfort of having them all together again.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Techno relaxed his posture, trying not to fidget too much. He was getting better with crowds but it was still a lot.

"You may think he's joking but he literally dragged Quackity all the way to the portal because he was too busy doing his eyeliner and would've made us late." Wilbur snickered when she leaned in to hug him, earnings him one of her patented ear-splitting laughs.

"I got a recording of it!" Tubbo proudly announced, pulling out his video camera

while still holding an arm around her.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! LET ME HAVE SOME DIGNITY MAN!" The aforementioned Mr. Fattest Ass in the cabinet screamed indignantly as soon as he got within hearing range.

"Quackity you never had any dignity. It's too late for that." Techno flicked the duck shapeshifter on the head, earning him even more annoyed rambling which he just chose to ignore.

"Well, I'm glad that that's settled, now, I have some people I'd like for you to meet."

She directed them towards the group sitting in the shade, which consisted of False, (a now soaking wet) Grian, Stess, Mumbo (who also looked like a disgruntled cat that was just given a bath), Iskall and Ren.

Meanwhile Doc and Cleo had a little cornered off area they'd nicknamed the "cool kids club" (it was because around this time the sun got strong enough to actually burn her and Doc just felt slightly iffy about the water, since he was, ya know, half robot.)

Clemmy threw herself down on a blanket in front of a grumbling Stress who set about actually making her hair look presentable.

Niki sat down next to them and began discussing the merits of different styles to put Clemmy's hair into.

Ranboo sheepishly sat down next to Cleo's lawn chair folding all of his gangly limbs under himself.

Wilbur happily plopped himself down next to Ren on a blanket and began to hum along to the other's guitar.

Techno lay dow his cape, deciding that a nap was the best course of action in that moment.

Fundy hesitated for a second before going down to the shore to relax and just put his feet in the water for now.

Philza, the awkward dad that he was, chose to sit down close enough to the girls that he'd be able to hear what they were talking about without intruding.

Tubbo placed his stuff down by Clemmy's feet and ran out to the shore with his surf board in hand.

Going through so many conflicts in such a short amount of time really tires a person out, especially ones as young as the ones from the SMP so getting this afternoon of rest truly helped ease some of the stress given to them by recent events.

(Beach episode pog?)

Of course, this little get together wasn't without it's faults. About two hours in Doc accidentally trampled False's sand castle, who in retaliation teamed up with Cleo to dump water on him while he was relaxing.

This little conflict evolved into a battle to see who could build the biggest and grandest sand castle between "Team Himbo" and "Team Women" (one of those was coined by Clemmy). Puffy and Stress set up a good system of transporting sand from point A to point B, allowing them to move faster. False got placed on detailing duty while Niki brought refreshments for the rest of the team. Alyssa was mostly helping out wherever she could, as Cleo worked her armour stand magic to make their castle feel even more alive.

Clemmy just shouted encouragements and bullied the opposing team.

(The member list of Team Himbo has been redacted to avoid any drama about who might qualify as a himbo in the given circumstances)

Somehow the guys managed to convince Techno to join them, which immediately stacked odds in their favor to which Eret and Iskall, being the non-binary legends they are, decided to side with Team Women, now renamed to "Team Prettier Than You".

Their building contest laated for another hour before X decided to try to stop them (it wasn't because of the time. It was because TFC and Grian started shouting things about structural integrity and adding stone parts to the walls and the contestants actually listened when he decided that it was getting out of hand.)

Then it was time to actually enjoy the barbecue. Techno surprised everyone with how delicious his baked potatoes ended up. Beef also got to flex his skills a little with, as you guessed it, beef.

Tubbo and Tango sadly had to eat further away then everyone because the moment they got within ten feet of the fire something mysteriously combusted.

After that, the ZIT trio busted out the karaoke machine and the night went from good to great.

The old Team Star was dared to sing a rendition of Hermit Gang and everyone younger than 25 felt physical distress during some parts.

The sleepy bois (+Tubbo) sang a cover of "Your new boyfriend" (Techno got surprisingly into it) and then Wilbur swiped Ren's guitar to sing some Taylor Swift songs (accompanied by Tubbo on a synth he seemingly pulled out of nowhere) in that one weird accent he can do which had most people wheezing on the floor from laughter after the first song.

Niki threw down a german cover of Say So by Doja Cat. Grian, Phil and Tommy were unconsciously doing the parrot dancing thing. It was great.

Quackity sang something in spanish and Karl and Sapnap made over exaggerated swooning noises.

Skeppy and Bad did a duet. It was as adorable as it sounds.

Some other people also came on stage, belting out songs in such horridly broken voices that I'll spare you the details. Let's just say, nails scratching chalkboards would sound better.

And that was most of the festivities over with.

The last thing on the agenda? A meteor shower. How did they set it up? Clemmy's weird star child thing. The aforementioned girl was huddled close together with her family as they watched the comets streak across the clear sky (all electronics and artificial lights were shut off for the night) and Melohi played from a jukebox in the corner.

Fundy was laying his head in Dream's lap, the other boy was softly threading his fingers through his almost fiance's orange hair while leaning heavily on George and trying not to let sleep claim him as it had the fox (no one knew how this happened, all they were aware of is that the three had disappeared sometime during the sand castle contest only to reemerge having finally talked things through and come to an agreement that they all seemed happy with).

Ranboo, Niki, Puffy and Eret were collapsed in a happy pile just vibing.

The sleepy bois, who were for once actually sleepy, all wore matching flower crowns braided together by Stress's experienced fingers (and Wilbur's rather clumsy ones). Phil and her had managed to come to an agreement of unofficial joint custody after he witnessed Techno embarrassedly lean down to let her place a crown of golden flowers upon his head and saw his internal beam of pride when she called him "handsome".

The boys never really had a mother he mused, maybe she could teach them kindness where he couldn't.

Another surprise addition to the family was the owner of the third pair of wings in the cuddle pile. Phil didn't expect to end up with any more children at this point in his life, but Grain and Clemmy were practically attached at the hip and it felt wrong to even think about separating them.

He only hoped that those two wouldn't cause too much chaos especially when teamed up with Tubbo.

In the end, everyone drifted off to sleep, one by one they closed their eyes on their most perfect day. Praying for whatever might be out there, that they'll have many more moments just like this.

Well,

almost everyone.

Callahan chuckled as he walked back up to his spot with Alyssa farther away from the others. shutting off his camera after cycling through the pictures he took of everyone looking goofy while sleeping (His favorite is the one where Clemmy was very visibly munching on Techno's hair). He may not use those as blackmail but he sure ass hell was going to tease them about it later. He fell asleep there on that hill, drifting off to comforting rest like the others.

After that? Life moved on.

It was chaotic sure, and not perfect.

But it was theirs. They grew up slowly, learning to be kind to one another, how to grow with one another.

Life wasn't always perfect but hey, they had each other. And in the end? That's all that mattered.

[thestraggletag]

Virtual Session, A Rumbelle Zoom Fic

Rating: Explicit.

Summary: Town meetings were usually drab, boring events, and having them over Zoom hadn't improved them much. Or so Mr Gold thought, until he forgot to log out of the meeting after it ended, only to discover a half-naked Belle French had also forgotten to do so.

SOMEONE PLEASE COMMENT WITH A BETTER SUMMARY I HATE IT.

Based on this prompt.

“We will review your presentation and hold a virtual vote before the month is up, Miss French. Thank you very much for your time.”

The mayor adjusted her suit jacket, her shirt riding up as she did so and unknowingly displaying the telltale white check of her Adidas yoga pants. Royce snickered, taking advantage of the fact he was muted.

“As there are no other pending topics on today’s agenda this virtual session is adjourned.”

He half-expected her to produce a gable out of thin air and bang it against her marble countertop. All around him people began to say their goodbyes and log out of Zoom, lest Regina decide to spring a surprise motion at the last minute. There was no need to flee, however, as Regina herself was one of the first to log off. Given the amount of smoke he had spotted coming from behind her right before she exited he did not need to guess what had caused her sudden departure.

“I guess no apple turnover for dessert at Madame Mayor’s.”

He heard an adorable chuckle and did not need to glance at the screen again to guess who it was. Very few people found his brand of dark humour palatable, but the librarian seemed to love it. It was nice, he soon found out, to have someone appreciate his often ill-received quips. It was one of the things he had first noticed about her. Well, other than her stunning eyes. And perhaps her hair, which was a lovely shade of reddish-brown. Her legs too, he acknowledged reluctantly, so nicely-displayed by her short skirts and high heels. And her-

He stopped himself. That way lay madness and he knew it. It was one thing to admire in an unattached way, from a distance. He was a connoisseur of beautiful things, after all, and Belle French was certainly beautiful. Unfortunately she also happened to have a lovely personality. Kind, generous, open, but also bold, defiant and the littlest bit dark. She flaunted the rules of smalltown society by wearing what the matrons around town considered “inappropriate clothing” for a librarian, and speaking to anyone and everyone, including those that polite society would urge her to shun. Drank beer with the miners, for example, men deemed “too coarse” for genteel women, and stocked the library with altogether undesirable books, be it because they dealt with unseemly issues or because they were from traditional authors. Which, he was sure, was code for “white men”, even if Mother Superior never quite spelled it out in such terms.

She was altogether dangerous for him, with her mix of light and dark, so he was always on his guard, lest his thoughts veer too far into dangerous territory. He didn’t fear scorn or derision if his feelings became too obvious for her to ignore. Belle was altogether too kind for that. But to be gently yet firmly rebuffed, and have their subsequent interactions laced by the barest hint of pity from her, would be unbearable. 

“I’m pretty sure that at least Mr Spencer didn’t hear a word I said. His camera was off during the whole of my presentation.” The librarian huffed, clearly bothered that her proposal to increase the library’s budget to repair the East Wing’s leaky ceiling wouldn’t get a fair shot. The wing was currently closed, and had been since she had taken the post of librarian, but with the newfound need of social-distancing, particularly in enclosed spaces, she hoped she could change that, make the town council see the need for more space in the library. “Though perhaps he didn’t want to be yelled at again for not being in a three-piece suit for a virtual town meeting.”

He briefly paused to remember Spencer’s red face when Regina had chastised him for wearing a white polo shirt instead of a shirt and tie during the last meeting.

“Kinda hypocritical of Madame Mayor, given she was a couple of clothing articles shy of a full tracksuit tonight.”

They shared a conspiratorial laugh, and he hoped the camera somehow toned down the stupid look on his face. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, looking instead mildly-interested in her living-room. Her laptop seemed to be perched somewhere on her dining-room table, giving him a great view of the rest of her flat, which was a loft, so it was open space, with exposed brick and tall ceilings. Though small it was tastefully-decorated, and with enough bookcases to make it seem like it was a part of the library he had never been to, if it weren’t for the kitchen area and the- and he told himself to stop looking at it- queen-size bed.

“Well, Miss French, at the risk of getting ahead of myself I can confidently state that things are looking good for your project. It was an excellent presentation and I could see Midas and Hopper were clearly in favour. That leaves the Mayor and Spencer outnumbered. Hell, I think even Regina will vote yes on this one. I know she’s keen on finding a place for students with connectivity issues to go do their homework and attend some classes. Fingers crossed the voting goes your way.”

He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring instead of besotted, and they exchanged their goodbyes. He closed his laptop, deciding that he needed a stiff drink first and a cold shower later, and went over to his wet bar, where after some debate he picked up a bottle of Ardberg and poured himself three fingers of Scotch, opting to forgo the ice and drink it straight. The alcohol burned pleasantly on its way down, making him loosen up almost immediately. He went over to the window, undoing the buttons of his vest and slipping it off as he did, feeling warmed by the whiskey. He chanced a glance outside, where the night remained crisp and clear, thankfully devoid of snow. It was still bitterly cold, though, and he hoped the library’s heating system, which was in need of maintenance as well, would not fail. The money for its maintenance had already been allocated and the budget for the work set, but perhaps he could email the person in charge of the job and… persuade them to make it a priority. The work should’ve already been done, but the pandemic had put a temporary stop on jobs like that with the exception of emergencies. Now that things were slowly returning to normal he was confident he could get the people working on the library by the end of the week with three sentences or less.

He went back to his laptop, determined to send the email as soon as possible. He opened it up and noticed, at first, that his camera light was still on. Almost as soon as his brain connected the dots and realised that he had forgotten to log off Zoom he noticed something else: so had Belle French. She was walking around her house, seemingly tidying things up and humming as she went along. It was a lovely, domestic little display, and though he knew he needed to log off fucking Zoom and stop intruding on what Miss French clearly thought was the privacy of her own home, he didn’t move the mouse. Surely there was no harm in indulging a bit. He was a lonely man, partly by design and partly by circumstance, and though he often told himself he wasn’t missing out on anything, he had to admit it was nice to- albeit accidentally- share an intimate moment with someone he had an affinity with. He imagined, for a moment, that instead of her living-room he was seeing her in his, picking up discarded books or perhaps the remnants of a tea they had shared together. He quickly shook himself out of that fantasy, alarm bells ringing in his mind, and refocused in the present, where Belle was taking off her cardigan. Well, surely, that meant the heating system was holding, which was a good thing. Which reminded him of his idea to write-

He glanced at the monitor again, where Belle French was now shimming out of her skirt.

He blinked, idiotically-confused for a second, as if the thought of a woman undressing was news for him. After the initial shock he took in all the details, fixsting on the black stripe on the back of her sheer black stockings, which she rolled down with painstaking care, the gesture almost painfully erotic. She started on the buttons of her sheer maroon shirt, undoing them with ease and shrugging out of the garment. The black camisole she wore underneath did nothing to conceal her lacy black culotte, which hugged her perfect ass like it was made for her. She went to unpin her hair next, letting the bobby pins that kept it off her sides of her face drop into a little ceramic bowl on her vanity. He was surprised at how much seeing her walk around her house with bare feet, shaking her hair out and stretching her limbs affected him. There was nothing inherently sensual about her movements, yet he was transfixed, unable to look away. Any hope of containing his attraction or attachment to the librarian vanished into thin air at that moment, leaving him equal parts scared and turned on.

It was then that his mostly-unused sense of decency decided to let itself be known, a wave of shame washing through him at the notion of what he was doing. Miss French had every right to her privacy, and here he was, violating it in the worst possible way. He should log out immediately and stay away from the librarian for a rather long time, enough for-

“Royce?”

His heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sound of her voice. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head towards the screen, telling himself that he deserved the scorn and disgust he was sure to see in the librarian’s face. But whatever hasty apologies and half-formed excuses he was about to blurt out died on his lips the moment he saw her: she was standing in profile, arms crossed in front of her chest and hands grasping the hem of her camisole, prepared to take it off, and her head was turned to the side, her eyes on her laptop screen. She didn’t look accusatory, or disgusted. She didn’t even look embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone, but it looked more like… like... 

Arousal.

“I’m here, sweetheart.”

He could hardly recognise the low, growly burr as his voice. It sounded uncouth and harsh, like the way he used to speak back in Glasgow. He had worked for years on toning down his accent, letting only the barest hint of it show when he was trying to intimidate someone. Never enough to sound too much like he did back in his youth, and yet he hadn’t managed to quite rid himself of it. 

On screen Belle lifted the hem of her camisole a few inches, exposing supple, creamy skin. Royce tried hard not to swallow his own tongue. She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant, and fuck him if that sliver of vulnerability wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. 

“Is this… Is this okay?” 

It took him an embarrassingly-long time to understand that Belle fucking French was asking him if it was alright for her to strip in front of him, presumably for their mutual enjoyment. He reminded himself that he had had only one glass of Scotch, not enough to dismiss whatever was happening as a drunken daydream. Which he might have had, from time to time. About Belle. Maybe.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.” 

Her lips curled into a coy smile, the growl in his voice making her shiver, and in one swift motion removed her camisole, revealing a lacy black bandeau bra with delicate details done in leavers lace. It matched her knickers, he noticed idly, and the black contrasted amazingly with her pale, softly-blushed skin. His keen eye noticed the exquisite craftsmanship right away. It was an expensive set, no doubt, and given how she was wearing during a commonplace day where she planned to stay home it led him to the conclusion that Belle French simply owned a lot of fancy lingerie, to the point that she wore it as an everyday sort of garment. He was very sure he would never again be able to look at her and not think about that.

“You’re gorgeous.”

In any other situation he would’ve been embarrassed to sound so… Reverent. So incredibly not in control of the situation. He might be fully-dressed, a man of means with a position of political power in their little hamlet and she might be a half-naked small-town librarian but he was absolutely powerless at the moment. And what was worse, he enjoyed it. 

“Thank you, Mr Gold.”

Though he loved the way she said “Gold”, with enough irreverence to turn her tone teasing, he desperately wanted her to say his name.

“Call me Royce, sweetheart.”

She walked over to the table, flipped the chair and sat down, draping her arms loosely around the backrest, the position loose and cocky. There was no doubt in her now, no hesitance. She had assumed control of the situation, for which he was grateful. She tilted her head to a side, sizing him up.

“You’re wearing a lot of clothes, Royce. I feel at a disadvantage.”

She smiled, looking supremely unconcerned, but there was a glint in her eyes he recognised quite easily. Greed. And not the kind he was used to seeing in people who frequented his shop to strike one of his infamous deals. It was different. It certainly felt different to him, hit him right beneath his gut in a way that felt both uncomfortable and pleasant. Without quite thinking his fingers went to the knot of his tie, already loosened, and tugged expertly, untying it in seconds. The silk made a soft, hissing sound as it slipped off his neck, which sounded loud in the otherwise dead silence of the room. Belle followed his movements avidly from the screen, and the look of utter absorption on her face gave him the surge of bravery he needed to tackle the buttons of his shirt till he could shimmy out of it. He was wearing a white undershirt beneath, but his arms and throat were bare, making him feel ridiculously exposed. 

“You have many layers. I like that about you.” Belle dropped her gaze, looking coy and vulnerable at the same time. “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Me too.” He tried to stop himself, but it was easier said than done. “Too many things, actually. But I’ve always understood that it would be foolish to expect anything to come of that.” He looked at Belle, draped over her chair and in her underwear. “Well, perhaps I was wrong.”

Belle smiled.

“You’re finally getting it. Good boy.”

He forced himself not to react visibly to those words, even though the moment he heard them it was like being struck by lightning. Thankfully the camera caught him from the waist up, hiding the embarrassing way his cock had perked up a second earlier. He could not hide his flushed face, however, or the way his eyes glazed over the slightest bit. 

“Tell you what. I’ll take off my bra if you lose the t-shirt. It’s a fair deal.”

It wasn’t. As far as he was concerned he was getting the far better end of the deal but he would never dream of telling her that. Tipping his hand was not his style. 

“Deal.”

He said it in the pleased, soft burr he usually reserved for his less savoury business arrangements, the kind that needed to be sealed in the cloak of night in some remote, deserted location. Belle shivered, and he enjoyed the thought that his voice made her react so. Feeling bold he grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked it off,      baring himself from the waist up. He saw and felt the librarian’s eyes roam over his torso. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He had scars from his dodgy upbringing in Glasgow, and some from his learning days restoring antiques. He was fond of the sun so at least he was not pasty white, or overly hairy, but he didn’t have much in the way of muscles. Belle, however, seemed to appreciate his more lean physique, if the heat of her gaze was any indication. After she seemed to have her fill of staring she leaned back and deftly unhooked her bra, letting the straps slide down her arms till the garment was on the floor. 

He stared. Couldn’t help himself really. Belle French’s tits were perfect. Fucking perfect. Just the right size, incredibly soft-looking and with the loveliest nipples he had ever seen, a rosy-pink that he would never be able to get out of his head. The kind of breasts that would ruin a man for other women. He certainly felt like no other breasts could ever tempt him again. 

“Royce, are you okay?”

Her voice sounded a delightful mix of amused and slightly worried, so he forced himself to nod, still unable to look away.

“Fucking perfect.”

Fuck, was that his voice? He sounded… dazed. He fought the instinct to slap some sense into himself. Belle draped herself across the back of the chair again, and though the position hid her breasts somewhat it didn’t do so completely. 

“I love how soft you are. Underneath the hardass pawnbroker exterior, I mean. Soft, and kind and funny. So funny. It’s one of your most attractive qualities.”

Most people wouldn’t think so. His brand of humour was dark, sometimes too much. And yet Belle always laughed, always caught on to his quips and seemed to appreciate them in a consporatory way. She could also dish it out, but in a far more subtle way that he was sure most people didn’t catch on to. Softly-spoken sarcasm delivered in a lilting accent. 

What was not to love?

He told her so. Unburdened himself completely, caught up in his own physical vulnerability and hers. It felt safe to tell her of his feelings, of how days where he knew he would see her were brighter, and how he liked when they shared a smile or exchanged a comment on a book. How his heart fluttered when he watched her read to the children, and how another part of his anatomy altogether reacted when she strutted around town with her short skirts and devil-may-care attitude. Liked how she thumbed her nose at the pearl-clutchers in town, doing things her way. Completely unsuited for boring, conventional small-town life, and yet wholly at home in Storybrooke, to the point where he could not imagine the town without her.

He shut up after that, noticing how she seemed to have changed, her mood going from loose and flirty to… anxious? No, that wasn’t the right word. Unsettled, perhaps.

“I can’t do this.” The sudden sentence felt like a slap in the face, but the moment his face dropped she seemed to backpedal. “No, no, not like that! I mean… I wanna touch you. I want to be in the same room. With even less clothes on. This… It suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.”

She was fucking right, he realised. He felt itchy all of a sudden. Unfulfilled. Empty.

“Come over.”

“What?”

Belle seemed genuinely surprised, but the way her skin flushed and her eyes got big let him know she was very open to the idea.

“Come the fuck over. It’s fucking cold anyway and the heating system at the library is shite at the moment. Come over and I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

He was rather impressed with his blunt bit of bravery, born out of a consuming need more than anything, and even more impressed when it looked like it worked. Belle scrambled out of the chair, throwing a lovely little nightie on before getting her coat and scarf. 

“Be there in a few. See you!”

She disconnected before he could tell her to bundle up. It was fucking freezing outside and that nightie and her stockings and shoes would do nothing against the cold, coat or no coat. A moment later he realised he was sitting down in his pants, socks and shoes and nothing else while Belle fucking French was coming over to... 

Fuck.

He scrambled up, fishing for his cane in a hurry and having just enough presence of mind to disconnect from Zoom. He went upstairs to his room, deciding that it would be awkward for him to still be wearing pants. And socks. And shoes. So he chucked all that off, throwing a dressing gown over his boxers, pausing to put on his house slippers, glad beyond words he had recently bought new ones. After that he went downstairs to the kitchen and popped a bottle of champagne, looking into his pantry for the box of chocolate truffles from Kreuther, a treat he had gotten himself after visiting a state sale in Midtown Manhattan a week ago. He arranged the impromptu offerings on the dining room table, and when the bell rang he told himself he was ready. He opened the door, finding a rosy-cheeked and clearly shivering Belle on the other side, hair windswept, as if she had run there. Taking into account her heels it was rather impressive.

Belatedly he thought about the scene she had walked into. He in his dressing gown, with champagne flutes and truffles on the table and a fire roaring in the living-room, a scenario ripe for debauching. But perhaps she wished to talk more, to explore their emotional intimacy. Perhaps the trek there had killed her ardour and all she wanted and needed was to get warm and comfortable. He didn’t want to come off as… expecting anything.

Belle, however, seemed to not share his concerns. She took one look at him, one look at the softly-lit space behind him and the food laid out and smiled.

“You brilliant, wonderful man.”

A second late she was in his arms. Cold, but soft and smelling of orange blossoms and frost. She tilted her head up, slanting her lips across before he could blink and it was… wonderful. The coolness of her lips contrasted with the searing heat of her mouth, making for a rather delicious contrast of sensations. He used the hand not clutching his cane for dear life to find the buttons of her coat, undoing them one by one with barely-contained impatience. Finally he had the coat opened and could snake his arm around her waist. The silk of her small camisole was soft to the touch, and let him feel the warmth of her skin beneath.

He needed to feel more. Now that she was safe in the warmth of his house she didn’t need her coat or scarves and went about the business of removing both without separating himself from her. It took a lot of tugging and pulling and a couple of missteps that landed her up against the wall, to his utter delight, but she was finally rid of both. Her skin, despite the toasty temperature inside the house, was still chilly from the outside.

“Come close to the fire, sweetheart.”

They managed to stumble across the hallway and into the living room, where they seemed to come to the mutual conclusion that remaining standing was not conducive to their current situation. The rug near the fireplace, thankfully, was thick and soft, and the couple of throw blankets he quickly spread over it made it more so. Once he was satisfied she would be comfortable he let her tackle him to the ground, enjoying having her above him. She was small, especially once she wrestled her heeled boots off. A tiny slip of a woman, shorter than him even, but there was a presence to her, a strength, that he couldn't help but surrender to. Beautiful, terrifying Belle.

“I’ve dreamed of this.” Her voice was low, husky. “You weren’t wearing a dressing gown in my dreams, though.”

“And you weren’t wearing anything in mine.” His accent was so thick he feared she might not be able to understand me. “Tit for tat, dearie.”

She ground herself against him, causing him to hiss and arc. Enough pressure to elicit a response, but not nearly enough to satisfy him.

“Don’t call me that. That’s how you call everyone else, and I’m not everyone else, am I?”

Her confidence slipped for a second, exposing a hint of uncertainty that he was quick to dispel.

“No, sweetheart. Of course not.”

He untied the belt of his dressing gown, managing to slip it off while still pinned by Belle. He didn’t imagine it was a very sexy spectacle but she seemed to appreciate it nevertheless. To reward him she yanked her nightie off, revealing her glorious breasts once again to his hungry stare. She was absolutely perfect, made even better by the way the fire lit her skin and hair, and turned her eyes a deeper blue. She looked fierce yet soft, a magnanimous mistress looking down fondly at a favoured pet. Idly she traced a scar near his right shoulder with the tip of her index finger, frowning the slightest bit.

“I want to know the story behind this. I want to know… more. About you. All there is to know that you wish to tell me.”

“Yes.” Usually he’d balk at the idea of such intimacy, of being so bare. Yet it felt like something he could do with Belle, something he wanted to do. “Yes, of course, sweetheart. And I want to know everything about you.”

She smiled, the gesture slowly turning sultry as she crossed her elbows over his chest.

“We’ll talk… later.”

She kissed him then, slowly and thoroughly, sinking one hand into his hair so she could tilt his head just so. Her fingernails felt delicious against the sensitive skin of his scalp and were a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable pressure of her ass against his groin. He wanted to last, desperately, but she was every wet dream he’d ever had come true. He needed to redirect his attention to anywhere but his aching cock. So he forced himself to focus on anything else. The soft, silky feeling of her skin against the rough pads of his fingers, and the taste of her, faintly sweet. She kissed like it was an art, managing to somehow find every spot that made him want to rip her panties off and just bury himself in her, foreplay be damned.

He startled when he felt her hands trail down his body and grasp the elastic of his underwear, tugging on it to hint at what she wanted. He obliged her before he could talk himself out of it, raising his hips so she could slide the boxers off his legs while still kissing. He felt her touch his mangled ankle and forced himself not to flinch or pull back. Blessedly she seemed to notice his discomfort, tugging his boxers off completely and reaching out to place his hands on the sides of her hips, against the scratchy fabric of her underwear. The message was clear, especially when she propped herself against the floor with her hands so she could raise her hips. He gently tugged her pantied down, with slow, careful movements to avoid accidentally ripping the delicate lace and not simply to watch in aroused amusement as Belle fidgeted above him. 

“Patience, sweetheart.”

She whined, kicking her panties off when they reached her ankles and pushing him back a second later, her expression demanding.

“No more delays. We’ve had months of foreplay.”

He found himself agreeing with her. It certainly felt like they had been teasing each other for months, with the shared jokes, the furtive glances, bitten lips and coy smiles. Not that he had even dared dream of it before that night. Belle was too good in every way for a bitter old cripple like himself. Her hands on his cock chased his self-deprecation away, leaving his mind in a blissful state of blankness. Slowly, torturously so, she took him in, her hot, wet cunt enveloping him with the right amount of pressure. It was almost too good a feeling, leaving his nerve-endings too excited to register much else. She was fucking perfect, the feel of her the weight of her above him. Like she was made for him, only he wasn’t that lucky. 

He needed to somehow make it up to her, make it so good she would not regret it. So he focused on establishing a rhythm, steady enough to build up their pleasure, but not too perfect to make it boring. He concentrated on the sounds she made, the perfect little gasps and the occasional, shivery whine that let him know she was enjoying herself. Soon enough, however, coordination and any form of higher thinking went out the window, the pleasure getting to be too much to focus on anything else other than driving himself as deep into her as he possibly could. He had enough presence of mind to sneak a hand between their bodies, slipping it across her wet fold to stimulate her further, determined not to come before she did. When he finally felt it, the blissful fluttering of her inner walls accompanied by a triumphant cry, he let go of his last shreds of self-control, letting his body seek out its needed release, the feeling travelling up his spine and leaving his whole body boneless with satisfaction. 

He grunted when she practically fell on top of him, though he welcomed the reassuring weight of her and the heat from her body. He thought about the champagne and the truffles waiting for them on the dining room table and decided they could wait. As soon as he was able to move he would wrap his dressing gown around Belle and take her and the food and drinks to the bedroom, where they could recoup their energy and talk. And perhaps much later, if he was good, Belle would let him drink champagne from her navel. 

Thank Regina and her fucking Zoom twon halls. He would never complain about them again.

[misterewrites]

Cheers from Newton Haven ( Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone E here with a surprising amount original works. haha so you can blame my good friend @hains-mae for this because she enabled me. So long story short I love writing. I love creating ideas, story plots, characters all that jazz. Often there's a lot of leftovers that i put away in word document just so I have stuff to work with or ideas i can use later. Most of the time I might write something just to get it out of my system but it usually just ends up gathering dust in my computer.

I've been getting more into modern urban fantasy stories and watching the unsleeping city which is a modern dnd show (highly recommend it. first season's free on youtube over at the dimension 20 channel) and naturally I wanted to write some so here we go.

I don't know how often I'll be writing this because this accidentally became my side project whenever I need a break from the underground but who knows might turn into another big layered project.

so basic summary is there are a group of friends, associates, reluctant allies, organizations and frenemies who work together to keep the peace of the supernatural world in check and to ensure it remains secret to everyone else while living their lives as best as they can. Today's chapter includes Finnrick Drift a private investigator wizard and his best friend Casey Remington, cleric of the hearth

that's it for me. have a great week! stay safe, take care of each other. wear your mask, wash your hands, get the vaccine if you can and I'll see you soon!

and if you wanna an easier place to read and leave me some good old comments or reviews you find the chapter right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

Not gonna lie i promised I’d try to promote myself more and it’s weird. it feels so weird. haha 

It was a busy Friday afternoon in Midtown. People in designer named suits and dresses bustled across the sidewalks in all directions, too caught up in last minute phone calls or sudden late night work orders to notice anything else. The buildings that scraped the bottom of the sky were clean with a fresh coat of paint and maintenance, a testimony to the wealth and power that was found here.

So naturally Casey felt as out of place as fish out of water in his purple baseball jersey and black shorts just standing outside some fancy restaurants doors with his friend.

“Finny” Casey started awkwardly, his sea green eyes darting back and forth awkwardly “Any reason we’re out here being creepy? I got a Neighborhood Watch meeting at like 6.”

Finnrick or Finny as Casey referred to him, was no better dress than he was for the environment. A long black trench coat that was more stitching than fabric, a matching frayed faded fedora sitting comfortably on his head. He wore a nice collared dark red shirt tucked in a black vest but even that felt cheap and tacky compared to the thousands of dollars worth of clothing that passed them on the street every second. At least his black dress pants were dark enough to hide the patch up jobs and naturally the only kept squeaky clean were his loafers.

Finnrick sucked on the thin white stick for a moment before speaking up “I’m debating if it’s worth the trouble. I didn’t realize you had a meeting tonight.”

“Well we always meet up on the fifth. You know talking about treaties, clean up jobs, if any undead hordes have been spotted. My birthday cake.”

“Ah shit” Finnrick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his dark brown eyes apologetic “It’s your birthday? Did you want to go? I think I can handle it alone.”

Casey lifted the hat off Finnrick’s head and playfully ruffled his already messy black hair “You getting old Finny. My birthday is the tenth.”

Finnrick waved off his assault “I’m six months younger than you.”

“But” Casey gestured to the smattering of sliver streaks in Finn’s hair “You look older.”

“At least I don’t look like I’m 15. Dude you need a haircut. Everyone here thinks you’re a hippie.”

“A good looking hippie.” Casey gave a dramatic shake, his wavy dark brown hair flowing in the breeze.

The pair burst out laughing, doubling over trying to catch their breath as the business suits eyed them distastefully.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Finnrick made his way over, smiles and charm as they approached the doorman.

“Your cigarette sir.” The doorman spoke dully.

Finnrick pulled out the now finished lollipop “Don’t smoke but done anyway.”

The doorman gestured to the nearby trashcan but Finnrick opt to tuck it away in coat pocket. Disgusted but professional, the doorman gave strained smile as he allowed them entry into the building.

Casey nudged Finnrick curiously “Wizards? Warlocks? God not druids.”

“Probably. This is guy doesn’t have an ounce of magic in him but I wouldn’t doubt he’s got some casters on the payroll. Try not to leave anything behind.”

“I’m a freaking walking carpet here!”

“That” Finnrick grinned playfully “Is why you need haircut.”

Casey gave a fake snarl “Shut up and call the elevator.”

Finnrick whistled, amused by the near silence of the opening doors “Such fance. Barely a sound.”

“So what’s the plan?”

Finnrick scratched the little bush of hair he had on his chin thoughtfully “Ask some questions. Probably get no answers. Be threatened more than likely.

Casey cracked the tension in his neck “Think it’s gonna get ugly?”

“Depends on how many witnesses.”

The two made their way to the seventh floor, the elevator smoothly slowing to a stop before the doors opened with a ding. Two burly men in suits were waiting, flanked on either side as they gestured to an empty restaurant dining room.

“The boss will like to speak to you.”

Finnrick and Casey shared a look.

“Sure!” Finnrick beamed cheerfully, patting both the brutes arms as he passed “I was hoping to talk to him anyway.”

The men growled in annoyance but did nothing as Casey and Finnrick made their way to the center talk, unsurprised to find two glasses of wine waiting for them.

“After you” Finnrick joked, pulling out Casey’s chair for him.

Casey gave a mocking smile “Such a gentleman.”

“Only one I bet” Finnrick whispered before taking his seat.

Casey could hear the low hissing of whatever spells were on their chairs being dispelled.

Yep there was going to be trouble.

Casey eyed the room carefully in search for options: The room itself was pretty dark, dark reddish walls with dim lights to set the mood. Most of the tables had been left alone for whatever event this room was scheduled for later with the chairs stacked in the corner. A few feet to their left was the bar, unmanned but well stocked and a window to the outside nearby.

“Well, well, well!” A voice called out from some shadowy part of the room “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting this fine Friday afternoon?”

Finnrick rose to his feet, politely motioning to himself and Casey “My name is Fredrick and this is my friend Charles.”

The man’s hazel eyes shone with suspicion “No last names?”

“Of course” Finnrick grin “But there’s no need for friends, right? We are friends Robert?”

Robert paused, a barely contained rage shimmering just under the surface. His slicked back graying hair and tailored perfect dark blue suit were signs of a precise, irrational control. This was a man that was never told what to do and considered himself above everyone and anyone.

“Of course.” He answered a moment too late. He was not happy. “Of course. What are polite manners among friends?”

“Thanks Bobby!” Finnrick gave a friendly wink before retaking his seat.

Robert fumed but followed Finnrick’s example as a trio of secret service wannabes took their spots across the room: Inhumanly beautiful men with dark suits and shades. Something was off about them but Casey couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What do I owe the pleasure Freddy?” Robert sneered, hoping to see how Finnrick a taste of his own medicine.

“Well Bobby.” Finnrick went on, purposely ignoring the older man’s jab “As you know you have been stealing countless money from your employees.”

Robert chuckled darkly “I am afraid wherever you have been getting this claim is very misinformed. I am a simple, honest businessman.”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Of course. Of course. That’s how you can say that with a straight face. Honest businessman of mundane practices.”

Casey felt his hair on his arm stand on end as the atmosphere in the room tensed. The brutes growled unhappily, the trio of bodyguards shifted uneasily and Robert’s eyes shone with understanding.

“I see.” He spoke simply “You’re from the other side.”

“Naturally.” Finnrick confirmed “No need to peer around the bush, is there?”

“No need at all. It is refreshing for such transparency. You don’t get that often in the world of business.”

“I doubt you give much either Mister Walker.”

“Enough games. What are you doing here? Some kind of union rep for magical freaks? Blackmailing me?”

Finnrick sat up with pride “Private investigator. Building a case against you actually.”

Robert carefully studied both men before him, trying to piece together their plan, their angle.

“Either.” He spoke after a few moments “You have all you need or more than likely you have nothing and you are simply here to smoke me out, hoping I will give you something to use against me.”

Casey felt Finnrick’s hand move underneath the table and a rush of chilly air brushed his leg.

Casey gave a quick nod to let Finn know he understood.

Finnrick cleared his throat “You’re aware of the works of Tolkien Mister Walker?”

Robert was caught off guard “What?”

“Elves.” Finnrick answered with a calming voice “Elves are the most famous of his characters that aren’t humans of course but there’s more: Elves, dwarves...”

“Hob…” Robert began but Finnrick cut him off.

“That’s a legal matter but yes. Wonderfully fantastic creatures.”

Robert narrowed his eyes “And?”

Finnrick leaned in close, smile mocking and cold “I hate when people take advantage of them.”

Robert was a cold, calculating heartless man who was used to being the smartest one in the room. The one who rigged the playing field in his favor, held every ace in his hand and led his prey exactly where he wanted them to be. He played with people before he destroyed their hope. He was the apex predator in the world of business.

It was satisfying to see that swagger and pride drain out of his face.

The businessman went for the button hidden underneath his side of the table, no doubt the switch to trigger the holding spells on Casey and Finnrick’s chairs. Of course Finnrick had dispelled them first chance he got and since the only other caster in the room was Casey, no one else noticed.

Robert’s face was the second most beautiful thing Casey had ever seen (first being Jaime but there was no need to tell her that). The panic, the fear, the utter confusion. Just poetic justice at its finest.

Finnrick shot to his feet with a surprising speed given his unremarkable build. He muttered the words of power, a magical incantation as his hand made the proper gestures to complete the spell.

The shades squad went for their weapons but Finnrick had gotten the drop on all of them. He pulled his hand back, a burning flame sitting peacefully in his palm. He pitched the flame forward, lobbing directly at the closet goon. The inhumanly beautiful man rose his arms to defend himself in time. The flame, mostly pressurized air, splashed over him harmlessly as the force of the attack shoved him back into the wall.

Casey followed Finn’s example. He stood as well (not as quick as his friend), a soft gentle light glowing from his hands. He glanced at the two remaining shades and aimed directly for them. A bolt of pure light burst forth from his palms. One goon got a chest full of holy energy and skidded backwards but the other was ready. He leapt to the side and narrowly avoided the attack as he slid out of sight.

The brutes charged towards the pair, murder in their eyes. Finnrick barely spared them a look as he snapped his finger. The two flames sigils he had imprinted om them when he grabbed their arms ignited, twin fires eating at their sleeves and sending them into a panic.

“What’s the plan?” Casey shouted, sending more holy bolts towards the shades.

“Up and over the counter.” Finnrick answered, tossing another fireball.

Casey quickly made his way closer, prepping to leap over the bar when Finnrick crashed into him, a strange whistling sound piercing his ears one moment then silent the next.

“Over buddy over!” Finnrick repeated, grabbing Casey by the collar and heaving him ontop of the counter. Casey flailed for a moment before glancing backwards. Finnrick was right behind him, hand outstretched as a blue translucent field of protective magic hung before the two while the shades opened fire with crossbows, the jet black bolts barely visible in the dimness of the room. They bounced harmlessly off the barrier but Casey could see the cracks starting to form.

Casey hopped over the bar gracelessly, struggling for a moment before clearing the jump. Finnrick tucked himself backwards, allowing himself to roll over the counter top and land on the other side with a thud.

“Remember when elves were honorable?” Casey huffed, quickly scanning the various bottles.

Finnrick scoffed “They were never honorable. They just acted better than everyone.”

“Remember when we were kids?”

“Vaguely. Pass the absinthe. I want to really make this hurt.”

“Blue bottle? These are all in German and Russian.”

“Green liquid. Come on Case I taught you better.”

“Right. I miss when the cartoons used to tell us the mafia was honorable.”

“Criminals these days.” Finnrick shook his head disappointingly “Just don’t make them like they used to. It’s all corporate shit.”

Casey began picking other bottles at random, wrapping them tightly with the tape he brought “It’s disillusioning I tell you. How right is he?”

Finnrick smashed a pane of glass. He took the jagged edge and slowly inched it over the counter, catching sight of the trio of shades for a moment before a crossbow bolt shattered the glass.

He flexed his hand, trying to relax his muscles. They were elves alright. They might be dressed in suits and ears hidden by some sort of glamour illusion magic but old habits died hard. Elves habits never died given their long lives. The trio had fallen into a close knit triangle formation: one fires, one reloads with the last taking aim.

“He had this whole operation locked tight. No one was talking. Either bribed them or made an example of them. Broken bones or horns. I had enough evidence to implicate him but bringing him to trial in the mundy court was going to be pointless.”

Casey moved the bottles back and forth to ensure they wouldn’t come loose midair “So what are we doing here?”

“Given his limited knowledge and the numerous magical violations I counted in this building alone, I figured he’s not registered with the Council.”

Casey’s eyes lit up in understanding “Gotcha. How long we got?”

Finnrick shook his hand back and forth “I’d say 10 minutes knowing the Council. Magic in an unregistered area requires a subtler approach for them. “

Casey snorted “Fake beards and stilts for the gnomes you mean? Robert will be gone by then.”

Finnrick’s face scrunched in concentration “He’s still here. Cowering under the table. He’s not used to dangerous wizards up in his face. Let’s scare him put huh?”

Casey spared his friend a glance “Big shot?”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Aim high Case.”

And with a synchronicity only achieved through years of friendship, the two stood up at once. Casey threw the makeshift bomb high into the air as Finnrick formed the magical shield once more. Arrow after arrow bounced harmlessly off its surface as the bottles sailed through the air. Finnrick focused directly in the center of the payload. The shield dropped but the elves had broken formation and were all reloading at once. Finnrick pinched his thumb and finger together, murmuring under his breath. A small spark of flame fluttered wildly on his finger. He flicked it as quickly as he could towards the bottles. The spark spun and twisted as it floated towards the payload. The spark expanded, growing in size, and intensity, rapidly without warning. The air warmed as the spark exploded, smashing the bottles and engulfing the alcohol within. Flaming liquid, glass and hot air shot out in every direction. The elves were blasted off their feet and crashed against the far wall with sickening series of crunches. The floor above now had a massive hole in it and the brutes sprawled across the floor. Robert himself was thrown onto the ground, ash and soot covering his face as he struggled to breath.

He tried to call for someone but his ears were ringing and everyone was down for the count. He tried to search for the trouble makers but the smoke that filled the room was too thick.

The elevator dinged open once more and three pale suits came scuttling out. They clung to the walls on all fours, unnatural and repulsive. Their blood red eyes shone in the dimly light room, their fangs barred and ready for blood.

“Vampires!” Casey rubbed his eyes tiredly “This fucker has vampires. Loose by the way.”

“Right?” Finnrick shook his head “There are just so many regulations being violated right now.”

The vampires did not care. They dropped to the floor, gliding effortlessly midst the smoke and flame.

Casey took a step closer to the encroaching undead. He outstretched one hand towards them while the other clasped his necklace tightly. The vampires tilted their head quizzically at the symbol that adored the chain: It was a house of all things, a simple shape of rectangles and triangles no different than what a child would draw.

The vampires chuckled, their eyes bright with hunger.

Of course in their bloodlust they had forgotten something important: It was not the symbol but the faith behind it that was their bane.

Casey held the symbol as high as he could. The vampire shrunk away from him as his eyes blazed with holy energy, the symbol of home glowing with a harsh light. The vampires barred their fangs as a symphony of noises overwhelmed their senses: the soft hum of an air conditioner, footsteps thundering about, the chill of winter, the heat of summer, the overlapping sounds of cars and buses as the roar of crowds boomed in their ears. The city, the hearth of so many people, filled this room for a moment.

The vampires drew back, white smoking curling off their charring flaky skins. They ducked back into the elevator, hiding in whatever corner they could manage until the doors shut with a satisfying ding.

“Come on” Finnrick gestured to the window “I don’t want to be written up for unauthorized magic in an unregistered area.”

Casey and Finnrick scampered to the window. Casey’s face turned a sickly green when he realized how high up they were.

“Ugh I don’t feel good.” his stomach churned queasily.

Finnrick broke the window with his elbow, the fresh smoggy air of the city bringing some color back into Casey’s cheeks “I know buddy but it’s only eight floors up.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Okay cool jump now!”

Robert regained enough sense to see the troublemakers leap out the window without hesitation. He struggled to his feet when flickers of something began to form. Before he knew what was going on, the previously empty room was now filled with various creatures: Elves, dwarves, a gnome on silts had appeared out of thin air. They weren’t dress in any ancient medieval garb but rather dark blue jackets, jeans and combat boots with the initials M.R.R.D stitched on their clothing. They were no different than any one on the street aside their more unique physical features.

“M.R.R.D!” the gnome cried out, brandishing a strange clockwork pistol “Everyone freeze! We sensed a magical disturbance and a violation of the Arcane Veil!”

Robert rose to his full height “I am Robert Walker and I…”

The gnome opened fire and Robert could feel exhaustion overtake him. Sleepiness began to ebb at his resolve and before he could mutter another word, he closed his eyes. A dreamless sleep until he woke up in a council prison cell a few hours later.

-----

Casey didn’t scream as he fell through the air. He was too busy trying to keep his lunch in his stomach.

Finnrick waited a moment to make sure everything was in place and with a wave of his hand, the two began to fall much slower. They landed on their feet as if they had taken a step off the sidewalk instead of several stories up.

Casey began hyperventilating, trying his best to get his stomach settled. Finnrick began fanning his face when a man walked up to him.

Casey and Finnrick said nothing, waiting for the Arcana Veil to fill in any blanks they were missing. They could’ve told this man anything but they found from experience that it was just easier to roll with whatever the magical blanket that separated the mundane world from the magical decided.

The man peered at them, his gaze unsure and confused.

“Hey, you guys okay?” he asked helpfully.

Casey and Finnrick remained silent.

His eyes glazed over for a moment, a strange shimmering sheen within his pupils telling the duo that the veil was in effect.

“You guys are oddly dressed for window washers.” the man chuckled.

Finnrick glanced back to find a ghostly image of an electrically operated scaffold behind them, water buckets and squeegees included.

They shared a look.

“Would you believe it’s national window washer day?” Casey filled in.

Finnrick added “Yeah, they let us wear whatever want today. It’s only one day out of the year anyway and most of the time we work by ourselves so no harm done.”

the man nodded like that was the most reasonable thing he had ever heard “Right sorry. I’ll just be on my way.”

Finnick and Casey ducked out of the alleyway behind him, heads low and nonchalant as the human M.R.R.D members began to shut down the restaurant from the outside.

“Well that sucked.”

“Just a little. Here let’s go some dinner on me.”

“Damn straight on you Finny. Brutes, elves, vampires?”

“Oh my.”

“Now I’m ordering extra bread for that.”

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Living up to the Name pt 2

Jack calmly walked down the path that leads to Ramshackle. He just finished his jog with Vil and now on his way to pick up Valerie.

The wolf bit his lower lip at the thought of Valerie in Savanaclaw. Yes, Valerie can take care of herself, and Ruggie and Leona were protecting her too, but the tiny brunette was too lax.

Running up to a beastman whenever she sees one, asking to pet their ears or touch their tails if allowed. Which is usually yes, complimenting how soft their ears are and how fluffy or smooth their tails feel in her hands.

Unaware how their eyes flash when she touches them or how they frit their teeth when she coos how much they're enjoying it. Jack, whenever he can, would always stand near her whenever she goes up to a beastman and ask to pet their ears.

He would glare at them to make sure they behave and not say anything vulgar in front of her. But sometimes, he's almost convinced Valerie wants to be prey.

The sound of Ramshackle's gates snapped him out of his thoughts; stepping out was a familiar man wearing a fur coat. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his brows were knitted to a frown. He carried a small bag in his left hand. The sound of footsteps caused him to turn his head.

"Ah, one of Valerie's loyal puppies." The potions professor remarked.

Ignoring the remark (and the blush on his cheeks), he questioned him.

"Good morning, professor. Why are you here at Valerie's dorm?" The man sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"The pup and her monster were at the lab yesterday to re-create their potion. Unfortunately, some students were playing magift and threw their disc too far and flew inside the lab. Amid the chaos, one of them dropped something in the cauldron."

Jack's ears flattened against his head, biting his lower lip. He asked one more question.

"Is she alright?"

"See for yourself." That was all the man said before leaving.

The wold made a dash to Ramshackle, worry flooding his system. Once he reached the porch, he grabbed the door handle and ripped it open. As soon as he did, a sweet and sultry scent attacked his nostrils; it had him reeling back and buckled his knees. His tail wagged wildly behind him and started to drool a little; Jack inhaled deeply, intoxicated by it.

It was almost familiar.

His body jolted when he caught Valerie's scent in the mix. Remembering why he was here in the first place, he took long-legged strides following the smell. The more he followed, the stronger the scent became to the point he had to cover his nose to not get overwhelmed. It lead him to the lounge; he peeked inside but wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Valerie sat on the couch wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe. Grim was on top of her head, which had a long pair of rabbit ears. There was the same color as her hair, and the inside was a dark shade of pink.

Valerie was caressing her ears, staring at herself wide-eyed in a mirror. While familiar was feeling the softness of her ears.

"Cute." Jack whispered.

Her ears twitched.

"Jack?" The opal-eyed girl and her monsters turned and found him peeping from where he stood. The wolf flinched at being caught but sheepishly entered the lounge.

"Hey, Val." He greeted, staring at her ears.

"Hey." She replied, noticing his stare. She chuckled.

"Like my new look?" She cutely posed, making his blush deepened.

"Y-You could say that." He rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting her eyes.

"I met professor Crewel on my way here; he explained how you got them." Valerie gave him a shaky grin. As she stood up, Grim fell off her head and grabbed the closest thing he could reach. Which was her robe and it fell down with him.

She laughed at him and picked him up. However, she had forgotten she was not alone.

Jack, who attempted to help. But got caught off guard when Valerie removed her robe to catch her monsters. No matter how many sleep-overs they had, he still blushes at her sleepwear. Seriously, this is a boy school, and she should be more careful; maybe he should ask Vil to give Valerie pajama pants.

To make matters worse, the scent she gave off amplified the moment she took off her robe. Jack was trying hard not to drool; he brought his arm up to his face to block out her smell and his vision from her. But it didn't do much.

Somebody...Please, save him.

"Oi, henchwoman. Put your robe back on; your scent is killing Jack." Grim remarked, seeing how much Jack was suffering. Valerie glanced behind her; she quickly dropped her monster on the couch and put her robe back on.

Jack took an experimental sniff and lowered his arm. The opal-eyed girl gave him an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Jack."

"It's alright."

"D-Did I smell that b-bad to you?" She stammered. She had her head down, a blush covering her face that reached the tip of her ears.

"NO!" The Ramshackle residents jumped at the wolf's heated denial. Jack, realizing what happened, coughed.

"No." He answered more calmly. "You don't. It's just overwhelming, that's all. You actually smell incredible."

Valerie smiled at him. "Thank you." Grim snickered.

"Hey, youngster. We managed to re-design your outfits for today- Oh, hey Jack." Wilbur greeted, having to phase through the room.

"Thanks, Wilbur." She turned to face Jack.

"So care to join me for breakfast before we head to Savanaclaw?

-----------------------------------------

Leona yawned loudly, not bothering to cover his mouth as he stretched his arms behind him.

The lion beastman sat on the bench, gazing at his dorm mates as they stretched. Today's training focused on speed and stamina lately; his dorm mates began to fall short on those. Truthfully they still have no idea on the training method to use. But thankfully, Leona knows the perfect herbivore to help.

"Yo, Leona. Is Jack back with Valerie?" A familiar (and semi-annoying voice) asked. Walking up to him was Ruggie, adorned in his dorm uniform like everyone else.

"Do I look like his babysitter to you?" The brunette growled.

"The hyena held his hands up in defense. "Alright, alright. Just asking."

The lion huffed and went back to observing his dorm mates. He inhaled deeply; before bursting into a coughing fit. A sweet and tantalizing scent filled his nostrils as soon as he inhaled, and it looks like he wasn't the only one. All the beastmen stopped what they're doing and stood there. Some in shock and others were trying to locate where it was coming from.

"Ughh, Leona...'Ruggie groaned. He was clutching his head in one hand and covering his nose with the other.

"This scent smells...Familiar." He muttered. The prince grunted in agreement and craned his neck to the side.

"Hi, Leona!"

And he found the source standing next to Jack and a pair of rabbit ears on her head.

Wait

What?

Leona blinked at the sight before him, wondering if he was taking a nap right now. He rubbed his eyes; before looking at Valerie.

She's still there with those ears.

What the fuck?

"What the fuck?" Ruggie voiced exact thoughts when he caught a glimpse of Valerie.

Valerie wore a standard savanaclaw uniform; with a few modifications. Unlike the rest of the uniforms, she had a low circular neckline, denim mid-thigh shorts, and black combat boots.

"Well, this is interesting." Leona chuckled.

He casually made his way to the now rabbit beastwoman and stopped in front of her. He lifted a finger and gently caressed one of her ears.

"Who would have thought calling you herbivore enough times would actually turn you into one?" He surmised, amused at the development.

Ruggie questioned on how did Valerie turn into a beastwoman. The girl glanced down at the monster in her arms, who grumbled under his breath. She gave them a brief explanation of what happened and adding that Crewel might be done with it by the end of the day.

When she finished, the two upperclassmen gave her a dead stare. Ruggie opened his mouth.

"Should have left the cat to suffer."

"Hey!" Grim tried to breathe flames in his direction, but hyena side-stepped out of the way.

"I'm alright. Seriously I feel...Weirdly energized." As if to emphasize her point, she bounced up and down; like a rabbit.

Grim, who was starting to feel dizzy with all the motion. Jumped out of arms and landed on the ground.

Without warning, she sprinted towards the field, maneuvering through beastmen. She leaped up and landed a kick to a nearby training dummy, destroying it instantly. The action caused a bubble of excitement to rise within her. She turned her attention to the rest of the training dummies and began her assault.

Left to right, she unleashed a barrage of kicks to every dummy within her line of sight, destroying them in a matter of seconds. A small crowd began to form; the boys stared at her in awe, admiration, and perhaps a tinge of fear.

Leona and Ruggie felt fear creeping up within them. They were having war flashbacks of the women back in the Afterglow Savannah. Ruggie briefly wonders if she might get along with them.

"'Oi, Ruggie." Leona spoke up. The hyena glanced beside him, noting the way his dorm leader kept his eyes on Valerie's movements.

"Yeah?"

"I figured what our training method is." He announced, walking over to the tiny girl.

Valerie delivered a roundhouse kick to the final dummy; it broke into dozens of pieces. The crowd around her cheered; none of them has ever seen anyone knock over, let alone destroy, every single dummy in a short amount of time.

"You got one helluva kick, Herbivore." A familiar lazy tone called out. At the corner of her eyes, she spotted Leona walking up to her.

He bent down to her eye level, smirking at her.

“How do you feel about a hunt?”