#then dropped that big huge chapter out of nowhere

[yandereshingeki]

missing milk, honey, and sugar constantly!! it has been YEARS since you published a new chapter.

I’m very sorry! 😭 I still want to write it, and recently I’ve been thinking about the direction I want to take the story in right now but I know it’ll require me to reread what i’ve already written and I just haven’t been able to make time for that recently. I do however have free time this weekend, and I was thinking about doing it then hopefully (lowkey was scared to say anything though because putting expectations and pressure on myself makes it harder but i’m going to try because I have nothing else scheduled tomorrow)

[revelboo]

the recent development with 'everything is alright' has me wondering about king starscream and how... lonely he seems. granted rattrap is there but hes... not much company in stars mind, i think. like dont get me wrong i knew he'd be lonely and a little on the right side of miserable, but that in tandem with the bit about 'dont you know you're home/his future/the one good thing in his life' bit from the last chapter has me!! chokign up a bit cuz damn he really wasnt kidding!!! he got what he wanted but at the cost of still being miserable bc its fuckin LONELY at the top when youre paranoid as all hell with VERY REAL justifications to back said paranoia up!!! god!!!

Yeah, King Star isn’t all that happy. I do like playing with different versions of the same character and just tweaking the circumstances. In Everything is Alright he’s alienated himself from his Trine due to his paranoia, in True Romance he still trusts his Trine and has that relationship, so he’s a lot less paranoid and lonely, in Overdone his Trine just drifted apart. He could have made more of an effort to connect and reach out, but he was so focused on his goals, he didn’t really notice that gap widening until they’re almost strangers to each other

Overdone Pt 2

IDW RID Starscream x Reader

• “You’re weren’t on earth, were you?” He asks when Rattrap gawks at the human in his grip. Striding past, he heads for his private habsuite. Hears Rattrap weakly call out about the reports and he ignores him. They can wait. But you? A human from nowhere plummeting to your death. Closing the door behind himself, he studies you as you cling to his servos. Timid for a spy. “Well?” He growls, depositing you on his desk. “Where did you come from?” Who sent you to spy on him? Wants to know so he can and deliver your broken body to them.

• Falling on your hip, you stare at the big monster and his wings flare out. Trying to say something, anything, when you’re too terrified to make a sound. You’d been driving and then crippling pain had slammed through you, feeling like being torn in two. And then finding yourself somewhere wholly different falling to your death. It’s a nightmare and you can’t wake up. Lip curling, he slams his huge palms down far too close to you and you scream and cringe into a ball. “Speak! Who are you working for?” He roars.

• Pretending at terror? No, venting softly as that acrid shift in your scent registers, he leans back. Not an act. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything!” You cry, little voice broken and terrified and his wings droop slightly. Maybe you’re telling the truth, but you came from somewhere. Humans don’t spontaneously teleport across space and time. Except you apparently had. Servos tapping on the desk, he glares at you and the problem you pose. If you are a spy? An autobot ally sent to undermine him? Why risk your death? If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have died. Maybe whoever had dropped you meant to see what he’d do and you’re of no importance to them beyond as an expendable pawn?

• “Stop cowering and sniveling,” he growls and you risk a glance at that scowling face, see his optics narrow at you. “If you show your fear, others will use that against you.” Heart hammering against your ribs, you watch him pace around the huge room. And when he’s not looking at you, you can breathe. Try to get your bearings. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but it had hurt worse than anything you’ve ever felt. Tracking him as he lifts a hand, murmuring, you realize he’s talking to himself at the same time it sinks past the fear that he’d caught you when you’d been falling. He’d saved you.

• Why had he saved you? Because you’re not a monster not matter how much you pretend you are, that annoying, little ghost whispers and he curls his lip. “You know nothing.” Refuses to look, to let his processor trick him with impossible things. Would think maybe you’re a hallucination, too. Except he’d felt your little heart beating against his servos, the warmth of your body in his hands. He’s not mad enough to imagine details like that, yet. Though for you to appear when he was considering not pulling up? Are you a punishment? Drifting back to the desk, his head tips with predatory interest as he rests a servo against your throat and you lay a soft hand on him. You feel real. “Tell me why I shouldn’t rid myself of you. Make me believe you’re no spy.”

Previous

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 protector: chapter twenty-two

synopsis: " you were supposed to stay a crewate, just another back to watch, " he tightened his hold, " i didn't even notice the change until i woke up one day and realized i'd take a bullet for you "

cw: violence, gore, fighting, mature themes, profanity, MAJOR/MINOR ANIME SPOILERS, follows the plot of the anime, slowww burn.

a/n: reposting from another account

After the battle was won, the crew, as usual, celebrated with a huge party in the castle, complete with a fully stocked banquet, music, and your usual Strawhat shenanigans.

But all good things must come to an end, and after taking a free bath, the crew hightailed it with all the food you could carry.

You gave Vivi the option to sail with you, but as nearly everyone guessed, she decided to stay back and help rebuild Alabasta.

Though that didn't mean you couldn't give her a proper send off.

After wishing Vivi goodbye and departing from the desert island, the crew discovered a stow-away on the ship.

Miss All-Sunday.

Or Robin, as she liked to be called.

With nowhere to go and nowhere to return to, she asked to stay with the crew, and Luffy complied.

So the crew set sail, soon realizing that the log pose was pointing towards the sky.

Nami was stumped, but after a ship nearly crushed you all to death, you discovered a map to a place called Skypiea in the wreckage.

And after enlisting the help of a couple trash collecting monkeys and the descendant of a liar, the crew traveled up the Knock Up stream and finally landed on the Sky Island.

And after a couple run ins with the locals, and a kidnapping from a runaway lobster, you, Zoro, Robin, Chopper, and Nami were now stranded on an altar in the middle of the Upper Yard.

A place sacred to the god of Skypiea.

"I can't believe that overgrown crustacean just dropped us out in the middle of nowhere," Zoro huffed, annoyed, as he watched the creature swim back to who knows where.

"Does anybody know where we are?" Chopper asked, taking a seat on the rail.

"One thing's for sure," Nami sighed, "we're definitely somewhere in the middle of the Upper Yard."

"This seems to be an altar for sacrifices," Robin stated, taking note that the Merry was now perched on top of a large, decorated stone.

"Wait, sacrifices?" you cocked a brow.

"Nami, what's a sacrifice?" Chopper asked. 

"Y'know, It's... like an offering to the gods."

"Oh, that's all? I thought it meant being boiled alive in a big stew or something."

"Actually, that pretty much it," you nodded.

"WHAT?!"

"Regardless of the method, the thing being offered is generally someone's life," Robin agreed.

"Are you tryin' to tell me we're all gonna die here—WHOA!" Suddenly, the reindeer lost his balance, falling off the rail and tumbling down the steps of the altar.

"Chopper!" Nami exclaimed.

"Dammit!" Zoro groaned, jumping off the edge to go after him.

Robin managed to sprout some arms at the bottom of the steps and catch him, but just as he took a breath of relief, a shark jumped out the clouds below, ready to attack.

Chopper screamed, but Zoro was quick to his aid, tackling it back underwater.

"Oh no! What is that?!" Nami squealed, eyes wide.

"A shark in the sky," Robin answered, quizzically, "A skyshark?"

"Zoro! Zoro!" Chopper called, running back up the steps.

"That idiot better not get himself killed under there..." you bit your cheek, the slightest hint of concern in your voice as you peered over the edge.

He needed air at some point.

"What if he's eaten?! It's all my fault!" Chopper cried, nervous.

"If he was eaten, the clouds would've been stained red," Robin assured... in her own way.

"How can you stay so calm at a time like this?!" Nami exclaimed.

Just then, Zoro and the shark burst from the clouds, the swordsman having uppercut the life out of the fish.

Literally.

'Thank God... should I still say that here?'

"I can tell you one thing," he groaned, walking back up the steps, "We are not gonna make it across by swimming."

"What kinda swordsman punches a shark 'stead of using his blade?" Nami cocked a brow, unamused.

"Fish probably didn't like him 'cause he was too dense. Dumbassery makes you chewy," you rolled your eyes.

"I can hear you two!"

"I'm so glad you're okay!" Chopper smiled, taking a deep sigh of relief.

"Whatever happened to your precious swordsman's pride, huh?" Nami teased.

"Would you give it a rest for once?!" Zoro shouted again, removing his soaking shirt.

'DAMN!'

You could feel your face heating up at the sight, the water providing a dewy glow to his incredibly toned chest.

You had seen him shirtless a couple time before, but the image always got to you.

It was honestly a little embarrassing, as if you were a young girl with a schoolyard crush.

"You might want to close your mouth before he sees," Robin smirked, snapping you out of your stupor.

You glowed with embarrassment, letting out a flustered scoff as you quickly composed yourself.

"Shut up..."

"There's a whole school of them!" Chopper screamed, taking note of all the dorsal fins popping up from the clouds, "What are we gonna do?!"

"I'm not sure," Zoro sighed, "But if that first one was any indication, we're not gonna have much luck fighting them off."

"We've got to do something. We can't stay here forever," Robin added.

Zoro shook his head, ringing out the water from his shirt, "If leaving us here was that lobster's idea of a joke, it's not very funny."

"Perhaps this is the Heaven's Judgement we've been hearing so much about..." Robin stated quizzically, peering over to examine the altar again.

"'Cept you'd think this God would try somethin' a little flashier, ya know?" Zoro shrugged.

Nami tossed the swordsman a blue tank top, muttering something about cutting off all your distractions so you could get her out of this mess.

'Jerk.'

"Eh, couldn't say. Never met the guy," the scholar turned to you, "What about you, (y/n)? You have the Angel-Angel fruit. Certainly you've seen some manner of God before..."

You paused for a moment, thinking back to see if you could remember anything about when you first got your devil fruit.

It was so long ago, and apparently traumatic, that your brain blocked out most of the event.

"If I did, I wouldn't remember. I got my powers a long time ago," you shrugged, "All I do remember is hunger, then a horrible taste, and a sudden pain in my back. No God."

"Either way, I'm not sure what the solution is. We definitely can't set sail with the hull looking like this," Zoro turned towards the ship, taking note of the damage the lobster left, "Hey, Chopper, try to figure out a way to fix the ship."

"Uh, okay!" Chopper nodded.

"Why should he fix it? Are you going somewhere?" Nami asked, raising a brow.

"I'm gonna find a way into the forest," he nodded, throwing on the shirt, "We should probably make this our base of operations. You guys can keep lookout. I'm sure Luffy and the others are headed this way." 

"Zoro, if you wanna go into the forest, well, I guess that's okay with me. But you haven't really told us what for..." Chopper asked.

"There's supposed to be some kinda God on this island—I wanna meet him."

"Wait, that's a terrible idea!" Nami exclaimed, "I mean, what are you gonna do when you actually find him?"

"I don't know. Depends on if he behaves himself," the man smirked.

Your brows flattened.

'Seriously...'

"Zoro, you're the bravest person I know," Chopper marveled.

"And the dumbest," you rolled your eyes, "Keep talking like that and you'll be smited before we even get there."

"We?" he raised a brow.

"Someone's gotta make sure you can find your way back. I let you go by yourself and we won't see you for weeks," you teased with a smirk.

"Hey!"

"What about his priests?! You guys gonna beat them up, too?" Nami scolded, placing her hands on her hips, "The last thing we need is you two pissing off a God!"

Zoro turned to the girl proudly, "By the time I'm done with him...this God is gonna bow before me."

'Dork.'

"Dork..." you rolled your eyes, outstretching your wings.

"Yay! Go, Zoro!" Chopper cheered.

"I don't believe in him, anyway. What do I care about pissing him off?"

As Nami said her prayers, you began packing your day bag, which was complete with a loaf of bread, some water, and ten bottles of sake.

'Perfect.'

"Secret Technique: God's Messenger, Six Point," you whispered, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

Just like that, about six of your feathers popped off, floating in the air.

"Stay with Chopper in case he needs help. Let me know if he's in trouble."

They gave a quick wiggle before zipping off to the top of the mast, perching there to surveil from all angles.

"That vine looked pretty sturdy," Zoro noted, looking up at a low-hanging branch.

"Ah, excellent idea," Robin nodded, "Mind if I tag along?"

"Sure. Long as you promise not to slow us down," he shrugged.

"Wait a minute! Where do you think you're going?!" Nami shouted

"At least a thousand years have past since this altar was built," she smiled, "The sense of history here is amazing. You feel it?"

'Not particularly, no.'

"A place like this is sure to be filled with all kinds of old relics. Imagine all the valuables we could discover. The possibilities are endless."

"I'll join!" Nami smiled, nothing but money on her mind.

Robin used her hands to bring the vine into reach, and the three of you climbed up to the crow's nest for a jumping point.

Zoro took the vine in his hand, clearing his throat for an oddly long time.

You cocked a brow, "The hell are you doing?"

He took a deep breath before swinging over, making Tarzan noises the whole way.

"It's official. He's lost his mind," Nami sighed.

A couple chuckles slipped from you, "That man is an idiot."

Robin grabbed the vine on its journey back, and swung over herself, Nami doing the same thing once Robin made it.

"Be careful! If you fall, you'll most surely die!" Robin called.

"Is that your idea of helping?!" Nami glared.

Below, the skysharks circled the dead one, each taking turns eating the creature.

"She's right... I'm dead if I fall..."

"Uh, Nami-" "Alright, I'm goin! If that's what you want!"

She jumped off, screaming the entire ride.

You couldn't help but laugh.

And it was a good thing Robin went before her because she prevented Nami from becoming a splat on a tree.

"Thanks for catching me," Nami panted, dropping to the ground.

"Anytime," Robin nodded, turning and starting off in the forest.

"You realize I could've just flown you over, right?" you smirked, landing next to her.

"You tell me that now?!"

"I was trying to tell you!"

"AHHHHOOOAAAAAHHHH... is what you should've done," Zoro shook his head.

"THAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!"

"Long-sword..." you stated, mapping out the image of it in your head, before making appear out of light in your hands.

"Kunai knife."

"What're you doing?" Zoro asked, brow raised as he watched you.

You had been at this since the group left the ship, and he didn't remember you having this ability a couple days ago.

"Back in Alabasta, I discovered I could make weapons out of light," you started, forming the kunai in your hand, "I made a bow and arrow and defeated the blue haired woman. So now I'm training myself to be able to come up with whatever I want instantly. That way, I can be battle ready in a second."

Zoro nodded, taking a quick moment to process the information.

"Need help?"

You cocked  brow, a little confused, "You wanna help?"

"It's always good to level up your skills," he shrugged, "And the stronger you are, the easier my load'll be."

You turned to him, a sly smile on growing your face at the teasing opportunity.

"If you wanted help just 'cause it was me, you coulda said it."

His breath hitched, and his cheeks lit up in crimson.

He didn't expect you to pick up on that.

He didn't even realize that's what he was doing until you said it.

It was almost as if his body went on auto-pilot when he asked, like it knew that's what he wanted to do before he did.

"Shut up!" he loudly scoffed, "You want my help or not?"

"Okay, okay!" you laughed, holding out your open hands, "Don't give me any warning. Just say any kind of weapon and I'll make it appear as soon as possible."

He nodded, taking a moment to get a list going in his head.

"Ready?"

"Yup."

"Katana."

It took you a moment, but you made it perfectly, using Zoro's as a reference.

"Faster. Flail."

That one took you a little longer.

"C'mon, faster. Axe."

You got it instantly.

"Good. Arrow."

You also got it instantly.

"Keep it up. Whip."

That one took you way longer than it should've, the image taking time to come up in your head.

"C'mon, don't slow down now. Bow."

You got that sooner.

"Good. Mace."

You got that one instantly.

"I think I have a suggestion," he chimed, hand on his chin.

"Lay it on me," you panted, catching your breath.

You were now discovering just how much energy it took to make the objects, especially one after the other.

You would definitely need more training.

"It looks to me like the quickness of the object's appearance depends on how familiar you are with how it looks. It's why the mace was conjured faster than the flail," he started, "So to train that, you should probably try to memorize the images of weapons you'll frequently use while doing one of our training workouts."

He turned to you, handing over his water thermos.

"Training like that should help you up your strength and speed at the same time."

"Thanks," you smiled, accepting it gratefully and taking a couple good swigs.

"We should probably stop for now. Can't have you too tired if we're gonna keep exploring this jungle."

You nodded in agreement, handing him back his thermos, when he suddenly got an idea.

"But one thing..." his smile grew, making you raise a brow, "Do ya think you could conjure up some sake?"

You snickered, "It's light, Zo. I doubt you'd be able to drink it."

He blushed at the nickname, but quickly played it off.

"Damn..."

"You can take a couple bottles out my bag if you want 'em," you offered, turning to show your backpack.

"A couple? You mean you have—CHRIST, WOMAN! Did you pack anything else?!" he exclaimed as he opened the flap, your supplies ninety-five percent alcohol.

"I brought bread! ... And a thermos of water..."

"Dehydration's gonna kill you before any skyshark will..."

"Hey! I—" you stopped your sentence at the sound of a faint whistle, along with a feeling of dread rolling down your spine.

'Huh...'

"What's wrong?" Zoro firmly asked, resting his hand on the handles of his swords at your sudden stop.

The dread was from one of your feathers.

'CRAP! ALREADY?!'

There was a look of fear and worry in your eyes, as if you were seeing something he couldn't, and it was beginning to frighten him.

"Is she alright?" Robin asked, she and Nami stopping to turn around and check the commotion.

"(y/n)!" Zoro exclaimed as you suddenly went limp, catching you by your shoulders and holding you up.

One by one, your feathers were disappearing, sending a burning sensation echoing through your back.

"Fire... Priest... Merry," you muttered staring up into the sky as the images came rolling through your head, eyes flicking through each new one.

Your feathers had never done this before, and it was honestly quite frightening.

For both you and Zoro.

The swordsman overheard you leave some feathers on the Merry just to be safe, but he had never seen them give you such a physical reaction before.

Was it because of your increased strength?

Suddenly, the image of Chopper being burned flashed in your head, before quickly disappearing, your last feather gone.

"Chopper!" you gasped, breaking free of Zoro's grasp and jetting off at top speed in the direction of the Merry.

"(y/n)!" Zoro called after you, a nervous pit sinking in his stomach.

'Dammit, take me with you!'

Judging by the few words you muttered, what you were running into sounded like it was serious.

And he wanted to be there to back you up.

"Robin, can you sprout one of your eyes on the Merry to see what (y/n)'s seeing?" Zoro sharply asked, turning to the dark-haired woman, "I wanna know what she's up against."

"I'm afraid the ship's too far out of my range," Robin tried, but failed, "Her reconnaissance is one of the many things she has me beat at."

The scholar did her best to fight back her smile, knowing that this was not the time nor place.

But you and Zoro's adorably romantic interactions had amused her since she first joined the crew, and she made getting you two together a little passion project of hers.

So if she had a chance to talk you up, she would.

"Damn it," he grunted, turning back to the direction you disappeared in, "We gotta go after her."

"Now, hold on a minute," Nami stopped him, grabbing his arm, "If getting this far took us this long, then imagine how long it's gonna take us to get back to the Merry, even if we run the whole way."

Robin sighed, slightly saddened that she wouldn't get to see Zoro's grand gesture, but accepting that what Nami had to say was logical.

"(y/n)'s the fastest out of all of us, and incredibly strong. She'll get there and defeat whatever's attacking the Merry, then use her feathers to be back in no time flat. But for us, we'd only slow her down. We should keep moving forward, instead. We're sitting ducks just standing here."

Despite the objections of his heart, his head knew that Nami was right.

"Fine," he grumbled, starting back on the trail, now eager to get the trip over with so he could get back to the ship.

He knew you could handle yourself.

He was confident you could handle anything thrown at you.

You were a strong and independent woman.

'Dammit...'

So why was his first instinct to be your protector?

[aihoshiino]

chapter 155 thoughts

Thanks for your patience! I had some stuff crop up IRL this week that kept getting in the way of my chapter review but we're so oshi no back

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 12

Aqua Hoshigan Status: White

i can't believe toxic yuri was the real core theme of this manga all along

With the long road to revenge seemingly conquered, Oshi no Ko eases us into a bit of a false high before the real finale comes barrelling in. As with 152, it feels like we're tying off a number of arcs that have lasted through the series, with certain characters getting what is clearly supposed to be their big emotional resolutions… and unfortunately, as with 153-4, while a lot of these beats are satisfying on paper, they suffer a lack of buildup that makes them ring a bit hollow. OnK's clumsy handling of certain characters during the Movie Arc has really come back to bite it during the finale, leaving me feeling like a lot of the emotional payoffs for them are undercut and the character work they're doing doesn't have the groundwork it needs to properly resonate. I defo didn't hate this chapter like some folks seemed to, but it has some pretty substantial issues in terms of micro and macro storytelling I am compelled to talk about. This is one of those chapter reviews I think comes across way more negative than it necessarily is lol but man did this one give me a headache…

To start things off, the thing that initially delayed this review: page fucking one!!! By total coincidence, this was the first chapter in basically forever where I didn't get a chance to look at the JP raws until like two days after it dropped and as such I was ripping my hair out trying to figure out who the narrator was on page one - the use of 'Mama' made me wonder if it was Ruby, but the visual flow of the page is much more biased in favor of Aqua and I probably don't need to tell you how fucking huge it would be for Aqua to have called Ai that for the first time!!! However, based on the speech patterns of the speaker in Japanese and the way subsequent pages flow from this intro, I'm pretty settled on it being Ruby - this chapter is a sort of closing of the book on her involvement in the revenge play or as my friend Mala put it, it's Ruby's homecoming so to speak. And like… honestly, thank god lol.

I get a lot of Ruby fans have wanted her to be more involved in this side of the story for a good while but I think the Black Hoshigan Ruby arc playing out like it did made it pretty clear that Ruby as a character is not super well suited to playing a role in the revenge half of OnK in the way that Akasaka wants it to be written. Not just that, but her actual post-BH characterization in relation to this arc has been such a wet fart that I really think it has taken away a lot more than it has added to her arc.

Not only that but… most of it didn't even happen onscreen lol! Not only did we get that absolutely baffling speech in 147 where she literally looked into the camera and Explained With Her Words the character arc she was supposedly having this whole time (just offscreen and nowhere the reader could see) but we now get Aqua going "well ruby decided to forgive him so it is what it is i guess". It feels so limp as a reason for him to have flipped on a dime like he did, especially when we still haven't fucking seen this supposedly lifechanging performance of Ruby's!!!! SO many characters have the resolutions to their Ai-adjacent arcs connected to how Ruby chose to play Ai in the movie but we're not actually seeing it. We're just sort of talking around it and having it exposited to us. I want to assume this is setup for us eventually seeing it ourselves but like… at this point, IS there any point to us revisiting the movie's content? Everything we might have learned from it has already been addressed by characters Telling Us To Our Faces How It Made Them Feel And Gave Them Therapy so it would ultimately be superfluous.

God. I hate still bitching about the Movie Arc now we're out of it, but it really is the albatross around the neck of this finale. So many of the issues littered through these last ten or so chapters are the result of the Movie Arc's fumbling and misuse of the cast and its failure to establish the emotional throughlines that should have been tied off by these chapters. I keep feeling like I'm repeating myself when I talk about XYZ Narrative Beat not being bad on paper but being less effective than it should do because of lacking underlying foundation but it really is the one central thing plaguing this arc right now.

i get what you guys are going for but. seeing aqua just let kamiki walk away when he has definitely killed people is really funny.

The twins' return to Miyako is another moment that I like in theory but honestly just feels frustrating. It's been over 25 chapters - a week short of an entire year since 125 came out where Miyako lamented her inability to reach the twins like a 'real' mother would and this thread was immediately dropped like a rock. She had zero involvement in the Movie Arc even during parts it was straight up absurd that she was not at least reacting to the events going on, didn't have any reaction to the movie or like… anything going on that could have more organically lead to this development.

I also have to say. The twins returning to Miyako performing this Snapshot of Aesthetic Motherhood (as u/DeliSoupItExplodes on the OnK sub put it) felt kind of. Weird and even a little icky to me in a way I've been struggling to articulate. Just that it felt extremely on the nose and kind of. eeeh.

that said. i won't pretend i'm not 4x critically weak to an 'okaeri' / 'tadaima' exchange at the end of a long quest or journey…

For all my complaints about the surrounding context, this scene in isolation is pretty much the one part of this chapter that just uncritically works. It's hard not to read it as a parallel to Miyako offering to adopt the kids in chapter 10 - except there, Aqua refuses to step into his new family. Here, Miyako pulls him into the embrace and the two of them finally engage not as peers but as a mother and son, as they've needed to do all this time. Her words here are so lovely and so, so sincere that it's really no wonder Aqua breaks down in tears. As much as I've bitched about the lacking work in his arc across the last major chunk of chapters, it's nevertheless been incredibly cathartic to see Aqua finally start letting down his walls, believing in his future and letting people love him. I just wish it had the buildup to really land.

also the twins just… still have not had a real conversation or interaction about literally anything lol.

Ichigo's back…! I already aired my major complaint about this scene vis-a-vis Ruby but I imagine this is the last time we're going to get a real Moment with Ichigo so I might as well get this off my chest now: it was and continues to be utterly bonkers to me that of the characters we saw having Feelings about the 15 Year Lie cast screening, Ichigo was not one of them. And it's even more bonkers that we got this whole bit waxing poetic about fucking Kaburagi and how he feels soooo bad about Ai when like… I'm sorry, but Kaburagi's feelings about Ai are so low on my list of priorities as to be functionally irrelevant. Quite frankly, he does not matter and it's INSANE that the story gave this misty-eyed moment to him and not Ichigo - you know, the agent of the industry that went on to exploit and kill her, her literal, actual dad whose guilt over what happened to her made him ghost his family for nearly twenty years? Can you imagine what an insanely powerful moment of resolution it would've been for that moment of Kaburagi addressing Ai through the 15YL poster to have gone to Ichigo instead?

I also have to note this weird ongoing thread of 'the Dome' being framed as Ai's dream that Ruby is inheriting when it, uh, patently was not! I'm sure she felt some pride in her success but all she herself said on the matter back when it came up was that she didn't get what a big deal it was but that since everyone else was happy, she'd be happy too. I initially took this to be laying the groundwork to disprove this idea and make the characters work out what Ai really wanted in her heart of hearts but now the narrative seems to just be uncritically treating this as a value neutral fact. So… who even knows lol.

Short hair Akane returns…! I don't imagine it was planned, but it's a cute coincidence that she cut her hair in the manga right around the time anime Akane grew hers out for season 2. I've always liked short hair Akane best so this was a nice surprise…

I have to say it was uh, really funny to see so many people get so shocked and mad when Akane talked about 'imitating Hoshino Ai' and screaming that this was a retcon or ruining Akane's character when like… was this really news to you guys??? Even before she grew her hair out, she flipped her bangs to go in the same direction as Ai's as soon as she started acting as her and she was popping hoshigans all over the place when she was getting her career off the ground… like, seriously, was this really a shock to people???

Anyway uh. Vindication for me from this scene!!! I've been pointing out for over a year now that we should be very cautious about taking it at face value that Hikaru killed Gorou and Yura because the story has been very delicately implying that to be the case while avoiding confirming it outright in a way that reeked of a red herring to me. That combined with his failure to even mention these two victims while 'fessing up to Aqua really raised some additional red flags for me and finally, we see Aqua confirming that no, Hikaru was not the one person behind everything, Light Yagami style and the final boss of the series seems set to be B-Komachi's former Queen of Smiles. Fuyuko Niino.

And Iiiiiiiii… feel very uneasy about this twist!

First of all; I have to acknowledge that nope, we have no fuckin clue how either Aqua or Akane figured this out but we'll probably get the exposition in that regard over and done with next chapter. Also something a lot of people caught is that Ryosuke is referred to with a different name here - Sugano vs Kaihara, which was used during the Movie Arc. I've heard this called out as a mistake/retcon and it could be, but tbh I'm inclined to think it's just that Ryosuke's name was changed for the movie, since a point is made about needing everyone's permission to include them in the movie and they, uh… can't exactly ask Ryosuke!

But… back to the real point here.

Nino has been one of my favourite OnK characters since I first read 45510 and every subsequent expansion on her character and her relationship with Ai has only made me more invested in her. But the story setting her up as the final villain here is… it leaves me feeling a little cold and very uncertain about how it'll go.

First off, the framing of Nino on these last two pages is just so overwrought that it's a little ridiculous lol. The image of her squatting in her filthy room, listening to old B-Komachi tracks and staring at a poster of the old group with all the other members but her and Ai aggressively scribbled out… it feels downright parodic to an extent that I think honestly makes Nino that much less nuanced and human by its inclusion alone.

Like… a big part of what I loved about Nino's inclusion in the story and how her relationship with Ai was framed was that it was messy and honest in a way that felt like it wasn't judging Nino herself or making her out to be a villain. Her and Ai's relationship breakdown was a two-sided failure of communication spurred on in large part by Ai's own avoidance and inability to have frank, sincere discussions with the people who cared about her. Nino's tangled up feelings of admiration and desire, envy and resentment, love and hate were not flattering but they felt so real and so human. She was a young girl put into an impossible situation and without the power to change the invisible dynamics of the systems around her, she lashed out at the person in front of her that she could see. The impression I always got was that part of what so deeply fucked up her feelings about Ai was her lack of closure - that she had never gotten to say sorry or patch things up. That she had screamed I wish you'd die at someone she loved and then she fucking died. No wonder she was a mess.

All this though… maybe I'm overreacting when we're just a page and a half into this reveal but again, the framing here really does feel so exaggerated and shallow. It feels like it's falling into the trap OnK previously fell into with the GRSR relationship where it attempts to amp up the drama by massively overexagerrating the emotions at play, blowing them up to their hugest possible extreme and letting all nuance and subtlety get lost in the noise. Ultimately, this will all come down to execution and while it's possible for AkaMengo to get us back on track with the Nino I already liked… idk. Like I said. I'm uneasy.

I also can't let it go unsaid - accidentally or otherwise, the framing of Nino here leans extremely hard into the stereotype of the 'psycho'/predatory lesbian and I don't think I need to explain why that sucks donkey nuts, especially in the midst of a manga that is so insufferably hetero at all other times.

at least she has good taste in b-komachi tracks.

[sad-scarred-sassy]

The tragedy of Spring - Chapter 7

Summary: Settling into the new Spring Court, Feyre has a conversation with the High Lord of Spring.

Notes: I couldn't stop writing this so here is an early update. I hope you enjoy the Elucien cameo on this one!

Tag list: @foxcort @viktoriaashleyyx @ninthcircleofprythian

Read on ao3👇 or keep reading below the cut

“Mama?” Nyx’s little voice sounded from her arms, he had finally calmed down and his soft call had brought her back from her thoughts.

“Look baby” She half-heartedly pointed at some deer grazing contentedly in the distance and Nyx giggled. He was in a far better mood than he had been when they had first arrived here, and she was glad. They were standing in a big room with a huge arched window in the new Spring Court manor, if you could call the intricate villa created out of stone, connected by bridges and tunnels a “manor”. If Feyre had the mental capacity to enjoy the view she would, much like she could see Nyx was enjoying it from the huge window that separated them from the luscious Spring forest in all its glory. She would have never imagined what the forest could look like without those horrible foreign creatures stalking the lands, she had never seen the Spring Court during actual peace until now.

For a moment Feyre did lose herself as she stared at the landscape, the multiple levels of buildings intertwined with nature, coexisting with the enormous trees, with the crystalline waterfalls that cut the land, wildflowers and tended gardens mixing with each other, all alive and thriving with so many faeries of all types, working, living, laughing together. It was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

Her brief trance was cut short when she heard Tamlin’s voice give some more orders to his people. Her eyes traveled to his broad back facing her.

“Please, have a room ready for our guest” Tamlin said finally and the fae with green scales nodded before taking one last look at Feyre and exciting the room. Only then Feyre noticed the furniture. It was a drawing room.

She braced herself, tightening her grip on Nyx’s body, bracing his weight on her hip. When Tamlin hesitated before looking back at her she felt a cold sensation run to her stomach. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“I’m sorry, Tamlin” She blurted out as he finally turned to her. He paused.

His emerald eyes studied her for a second and she stiffened her posture.

“I will leave as soon as possible, I-I shouldn’t have come here.” She continued, her voice was rough from crying so much but she couldn’t stop the words. “This place- This place is beautiful, wonderful. It was a mistake coming here” She repeated.

Tamlin frowned slightly, then he walked slowly towards her, his hair still tied in a knot, messy. His clothes were slightly dirty and wrinkled. He had been doing hard labor when she arrived, she now realized.

He stopped just in front of her and Nyx, her eyes didn’t leave his even though they were so intense she had the unbearable urge to look elsewhere. Her face flushed as she imagined what he must be thinking.

Her, coming here, with his enemy’s son in her arms, crying for help, barefoot and looking half crazed. She almost laughed bitterly at the image.

Tamlin shook his head slightly. “There’s nowhere else I would rather you be than here” He startled her by saying, almost as a whisper.

Before she could say a word his green eyes dropped towards Nyx’s big blue eyes staring right back at him. The toddler smiled a small toothed smile at him and Tamlin’s features softened inadvertently. He smiled back.

His gaze lifted back up to hers then, and she felt her heart pound in her chest for an unknown reason.

“He has your eyes” He only said.

Feyre let go of a strained sob-laugh.

Tamlin only stared at her some more, concern painted all over his face and she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore, it felt too raw, she felt too pathetic. She looked out the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to hold herself together.

“Feyre” He tried. “Tell me what happened” He urged a bit too softly. She hated it. Hated the care in his words. She deserved this, all of what was happening to her, how couldn’t he see it, how didn’t he agree?

“I won’t bother you for long” She said, still not meeting his piercing eyes. He sighed.

“Can you sit down for me, at least?” He pointed at the couches surrounding the fireplace with his thumb. She bit the inside of her cheek as she nodded.

Her bare feet paddled through the wooden floor before feeling the soft rug on her achy soles. She was so tired.

She sat down on the couch as he took the loveseat right next to it. Nyx was already yawning when she cradled him on her lap. She tucked his wings and pushed his black hair back from his soft forehead as he drifted to sleep.

“I’ve already sent reinforcements to guard the borders. You’re safe here” He said softly and she nodded, not meeting his eyes. She knew she should tell him, she owed it to him to be clear about the actual risks of giving her refuge. But the words felt so heavy on her mouth, so foreign and unreal.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” He said. “Just… enough to be prepared. Does he know you’re here?”

She finally reunited their eyes and somehow it was even more unbearable. Shame and guilt and embarrassment flooded her veins when looking at him. She took a steading breath.

“I don’t know” She said. “I don’t think he knows where I am yet. But I think he will figure it out soon” She wet her dry lips before looking at him again. “Tamlin, it’s worse than I thought, I honestly don’t- I’m scared he will come and destroy-“

“Don’t worry about that”

“But it is very likely, I have his heir-“

“You have your son.” He said matter-of-factly and she swallowed hard. “Trespassing would be considered an act of war, and I don’t think he’s in the position to start one” He said calmly. “Either way, we are prepared.” He rubbed his hands on his pants. “You should rest, let me take you to your room” He stood up and she simply nodded, picking herself up along with her baby as she let him winnow her just to appear right in front of a wooden door.

He grabbed the knob, his body closer to hers than he had been since she arrived, she could feel the heat emanating from him, his manly scent invading her senses which she ignored. He paused.

“Feyre, what did he do?” He said so low she felt it coursing through her body. His green eyes were digging themselves into hers so deeply, she couldn’t help herself anymore, he was looking at her like he needed to know, and she needed to have the truth out of her system.

She took a calming breath before she spoke. “I found out he made me seal a deal with him Under The Mountain when I was drunk on faerie wine” She said with a small voice. Tamlin’s body tensed instantly, every cell listening carefully as she spoke. She gulped and took a breath, holding Nyx closer as her extremities trembled. “He created our mating bond with a bargain” She said, the words so cold and nauseating that bile rose up to her throat. Tamlin straightened at her words, face unreadable, eyes moving quickly as he took the information, face turning from lost to shocked to outraged.

His mouth opened and closed, grabbing the door handle so hard it was a surprise it hadn’t broken yet.

“H-how” He managed. “Hybern… the king should have broken it along with the other one” He blinked.

“I don’t know… I think he may have thought he was breaking both when we only knew about the first one… still I don’t know the ways he managed it and why exactly he did it, other than…” She trailed off as she looked down at her son sleeping beautifully in her arms. Tamlin’s eyes only widened. She could see the battle going on inside his head, he looked like he wanted to crush something, someone, but he surprised her when he took a steading breath and gulped his anger down.

“I’m sorry” He said and she only stared at him. “We will talk about it more if you want, now, please rest.” He finally opened the door. “If you need me just ring the bell next to your bed” He stepped back as she stepped inside the spacious room.

“Thank you” She said. He bowed his head slightly and then he closed the door, leaving her and her baby alone

—

When Lucien Vanserra finally found the High Lord of the Spring Court in the depths of the forest, shirtless and half-ferally cutting tree trunks with an ax that had obviously lost all sharpness years ago, making the wood splinter instead of slicing through it, he knew for sure they had come to the right place.

“What did that oak ever do to you?” He asked as a way of greeting, but Tamlin didn’t even look at him as he continued on. There was a silent rage in him he had never seen before, and he honestly felt bad for those logs of wood.

“What are you doing Tamlin?” He tried again.

“I’m cutting wood” He mumbled, as he exploded another trunk almost as thick as his torso.

“In the middle of the night” He pointed out. Tamlin simply ignored him.

Lucien sighed. “Is she okay?” He asked and Tamlin finally paused for a second, before he delivered a final blow to the last remaining log, making splitters fly across the air, getting stuck in his hair.

“She’s resting” He said, breathing much less heavily than he should be for the amount of work he had put in. “Do you know everything?” His eyes didn’t meet Lucien’s as he began to load a cart with all the wood he had exploded.

“Elain was the one who saw it for her,” Lucien explained. The whole thing was still hard to process. Lucien had seen plenty of vile things during his long life, but a betrayal of this magnitude was something that would make Beron hesitate. When Elain had explained to him and Nesta what had happened, he knew they had to leave the Night Court immediately. He had winnowed them to Spring almost instantly, after trying to get Nesta to come with them. She had declined with a determination he had learned to never cross when it came with Archerons. Elain had known Feyre would be here even before arriving, while Lucien still struggled to believe it. He had spent hours looking for Tamlin as his mate tried to gather where exactly her sister was located, since no one was willing to tell her.

“How are you feeling?” He asked his friend as he helped him with the logs of wood. Judging by the haggard look on his face he wasn’t taking the events too well.

“I’m not the one you should be asking that” He replied.

“Quit diverting my questions. I can see right through you, and you look like shit”

“Then it was a stupid question to begin with” He replied and Lucien granted him that it was.

Tamlin sat down on the floor, back resting on the wooden cart, grabbing a used and abused handkerchief from his back pocket and cleaning his face with it. Lucien brushed his hands together, getting rid of the splinters, and sat down next to him.

“How didn’t I see it?” Tamlin said to himself, looking at a distance.

“Why would you? It looked like a real mating bond, even if it was a bit… odd”

He had always thought their bond seemed a bit unbalanced, to put it in some way, but he had assumed it was a natural occurrence to Rhysand’s overly controlling nature.

Tamlin sighed loudly. “She has nowhere to go” He continued. It was a truth Lucien had known for a long time, how Feyre’s deeds had isolated her from the rest of Prythian. Now he realized it probably hadn’t been pure coincidence.

“She has you” He said. The High Lord shook his head.

“I also failed her before”

“You can make up for it now. Will you let her stay?” He asked him, but he already knew the answer. Tamlin’s hands gripped the piece of cloth tightly.

“I would never turn her away”

“He’s going to come, one way or another” Lucien said as a matter of fact.

“Let him” He spoke eerily. Lucien knew that determined gleam in his green eyes, he had only ever seen him look like that when it came to Feyre and no one else. Lucien rested his head on the cart on his back as he took a breath.

“Elain told me he made her do that promise back when she was a human… back in Under the Mountain. Why?” Tamlin tensed instantly. It was confusing, the fact that Rhysand chose a mere powerless human to mate and bear his heirs, as if he somehow knew that she would be one of the most powerful beings in Prythian. He would have to discuss this with Elain later, try to figure out what else she can gather from this whole ordeal, what did Rhysand know beforehand?

“It makes no sense” Tamlin rubbed his eyes. “I should have fought harder for her back then” His voice was hoarse.

Lucien shook his head slightly. “How?” He knew he still faulted himself for everything that had happened to her back in that gods’ awful place. “You were overpowered, we all were”

Tamlin shook his head, lost in thought, probably reliving everything. “I should have sent her further away with her family, I should have-”

“Tam” Lucien cut him off but the male barely registered it. His green eyes were bloodshot, his body so tense it was almost trembling. “Listen to me” He said with a stern voice and his friend’s gaze finally met his. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this, not this” Lucien said, holding his eyes unflinchingly. Tamlin understood what he meant then, he could see he remembered all the times he had also looked Lucien in the eyes and told him those exact words whenever he felt like giving up after Jesminda, when the guilt had been too much to bear. He wouldn’t let him fall down that path too, not again.

“You fucked up, yes. You lost her trust once. Don’t make the same mistake” Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder. Then he stood up from the ground and offered his hand. “She’s here for a reason, Tamlin. She didn’t hesitate, she took her baby and winnowed here without a second thought”

His friend looked at him for a long moment before taking his hand as he helped him up to his feet again.

“Thank you” He said quietly but not weakly. Lucien only nodded.

“Now, quit moping and get some rest. Gotta be prepared to kick some bat’s ass if they dare present themselves” He half joked. “And knowing them, they won't take long”

—

Feyre was sitting in the bed while Elain combed her hair when the thought lit up inside her mind like a wildfire.

“Did he know?” She blurted out to her sister, who paused her movements to look at her.

“What?” She asked softly.

“That I would die and get the High Lord’s powers” She blurted. “D-did he know?”

“I don’t know” Elain said, dropping the comb on her lap.

Feyre’s mind had not stopped for one moment since she had arrived, piecing clues and conversations together as if she was finally seeing things for the first time. When Elain had finally found her she had discovered her sitting on her bed, wrapped under a towel, looking at the wall, lost in thought. This idea in particular had arrived to her like a stone falling on her head.

“He told Amarantha about me” Feyre said. “He had made Tamlin and Lucien beg on their knees for his silence, but then he told her anyway”

She looked at Elain’s face, her sister was looking at her with a mix of sadness and anger in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I can try to look.” She said. “But it may take me longer, since I can’t touch him” She said, and Feyre only nodded.

Things didn’t add up, and the fact that he had been the one to set things in motion for her to go save Tamlin made too much sense now. All of the things she had never questioned herself, had never questioned him, were now coming back to her in waves, as if she had woken up from a glamour he had placed upon her.

“Feyre” Her sister called her. “You need to rest, we will figure this out tomorrow” She caressed her hair. Feyre’s eyes landed on her sleeping child in his crib.

“Elain, I don’t think-” She swallowed hard. “I don’t see what’s the point of anything anymore”

“Don’t talk like that” Her older sister said, but Feyre couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t stop the words coming out of her mouth.

“It’s true, he destroyed everything I am, everything I was. I- I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore and I thought at least I had him, at least I had a mate and I had a family. I finally had a family and it was all fake” She couldn’t help but sob as she said the last words and Elain held her to her chest. Feyre hated crying, hated feeling weak, and that was all she felt for so long now, she didn’t know who she was, who she was supposed to be, what she was supposed to fight for. Did she even deserve to fight?

“Listen to me” Her sister held her tightly to her chest. “He didn’t destroy you” She said as she grabbed her with both hands and with surprising strength pushed her to look at her fawn-brown colored eyes. “He tried to own you, he tried to tame you and he couldn’t do it” She said, her face the definition of determination. “He will pay for what he’s done, and you-” She looked at her directly into her eyes. “You will thrive”

Feyre felt silent tears sliding down her face as her sister spoke to her in a way she had never done before.

“You have a family. You have Lucien, Nesta and me. You have him” She directed her gaze to the sleeping baby and Feyre felt the fire in her gut, the deep maternal need to protect him, to never let him go. “And you have Tamlin” Elain said more quietly, making Feyre’s eyes snap back to hers. “He will not let anything happen to you, or Nyx. I know it.”

“I don’t think I deserve it” She said with a small voice, speaking the darkest thoughts in her mind. “These people Elain, I’ve wronged them so horribly, I don’t deserve their help, their care. I don’t deserve you or Lucien or Nesta. I don’t deserve Tamlin and I certainly don’t deserve Nyx” She let the words spill from her and Elain only listened, her eyes wide and glossy.

“Then make yourself worthy again” Elain said calmly. “Look these people in the eyes and tell them you’re sorry. Help them as they help you.” Elain smiled at her softly. “Right the wrongs, find your power again. Do it for him” She nodded at her son again. “Do it for you”.

Feyre only nodded her head softly before Elain embraced her again and she let her, let herself cry and be comforted by her older sister in a way that she had never let herself before.

After a long time of crying and Elain telling her it would all be okay, Feyre finally managed to fall into a deep sleep, feeling like a child in her sister’s arms but knowing that when the day came, she would find the woman she had been before, the one who had found the strength to enter a cursed mountain and save the one she loved, the woman who had endured unimaginable things and persevered, the woman who had learned the truth and had taken a decision to leave, she would find her and she would pull her from the inside and she would not break.

Not anymore.

[inawickedlittletown]

Don't Make A Shadow Of Yourself (BuckTommy fic) - 9/12

Summary: "A man who's pure of heart...may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright" - Howl (F+TM)

BuckTommy Werewolf AU. Throughout most of his adult life, Tommy had dealt with what he was. The duality of being a man and also an animal…a beast. Werewolves weren’t born, they were made. 

Words: 3,850

Read on Ao3

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight

-

Chapter Nine

Arms wrapped around Buck’s middle over the apron he’d thrown on before he started cooking. Tommy’s chin dropped to his shoulder and Buck leaned back into the strong chest behind him. 

“I don’t know what smells better,” Tommy said, voice low.

“Hmm?” 

Tommy responded by giving Buck a sniff. Buck couldn’t help but laugh. Tommy’s hold on him tightened for a moment before he kissed Buck’s neck and let go. Buck couldn’t deny that it felt hard to get back to cooking when he knew that Tommy was within reach. But, he’d promised to cook for Tommy for their third date — Buck was counting the two of them hanging out and making out on his couch after the hang out at Hen and Karen’s as the second date — and he was not going to burn down their food. Especially not when it had taken them almost a full two weeks to find the time for this date to take place. 

“How can I help?” Tommy asked. 

“Open the wine?” 

Buck meanwhile got busy with plating up the chicken stirfry. It had seemed like one of the easiest and tastiest dishes to make, especially since Buck had finally perfected making rice. It didn’t take long for them to be seated. 

“This looks amazing,” Tommy said. “Thank you for doing all this.” 

“I enjoyed doing this for us,” Buck said. 

Tommy ducked his head. No one would ever think that a man like Tommy could be bashful or lack confidence because he didn’t come off that way. As far as Buck was concerned, it was because Tommy hid it well. He just tended to drop those walls around Buck and Buck appreciated that more than anything, he knew how hard it was to open up to be vulnerable. 

“How did it go with Maddie today?” Tommy asked. 

The wedding was drawing ever near and Buck had jumped in to help Maddie with anything she still needed help with. In a little over a week their parents were arriving and considering the full moon, Buck was going to do his best to put his distance between them. A part of him kind of hated that Maddie was still trying to have any kind of relationship with them, to expose Jee to them. He always had to remind himself that he had a very different relationship with his parents than the one that Maddie had with them. 

“She finally settled on the flowers,” Buck said. “I never knew she could be so picky about flowers.” 

“It’s a wedding, Evan. Brides get picky about everything.” 

Buck nodded slowly. “I know. I mean her last wedding wasn’t anything like this…none of us were even there. I don’t think I ever want to have a huge wedding like this.”

Tommy paused, fork halfway to his mouth. He coughed. 

Buck knew he was blushing and it wasn’t fair how easily Tommy could cause him to blush. 

“Is that a hint for the future?” Tommy asked, carefully. “I mean, we’re nowhere near marriage but—”

Buck reached over to hit his shoulder lightly. “No. Just in general…why throw such a lavish party when the thing that matters is really the start of the marriage. I think Maddie got swept up in the whole thing and I don’t blame her exactly.” 

“Big party doesn’t mean they’re not both equally if not more excited about what comes next.” 

Buck took a bite of his food. The strange part of it was that he could see him and Tommy lasting. It was far too early to think it, much less voice it, and yet it was there. Their connection. They were literally in the middle of their second date, but it felt like they had been together longer than that. It felt like they were meant to be together maybe even forever. 

“Hey,” Buck said. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want to be my date to the wedding?” 

Tommy stared at him, a little surprised, but Buck could tell that he was pleased by the question. 

“I know Chim invited you, but I want to sit with you and I want to dance with you and I don’t want to hide this. So, what do you say to our next date being my sister’s wedding?” 

Tommy chuckled, and he reached his hand out to Buck. “I want to say yes, but a week ago you warned me off your parents.”

And Buck still hadn’t told him about them. He hadn’t had the time or known just quite how to explain. He had fully planned to when they got to his place that other night, but they’d both been a little distracted. Buck couldn’t even remember what movie they had tried to watch, though he did remember the taste of Tommy’s lips and his neck. 

“I’m not worried about them finding out I’m dating a guy,” Buck said. “I don’t know how they’ll react about it and I don’t care.”

Tommy looked at him, took in Evan’s determination. So he nodded. “Sure. I’ll be your date.”

Evan smiled really wide. Even his eyes looked like they were shinning. 

“You really don’t care what your parents will say?” Tommy asked. 

“I don’t.”

“But it matters if they find out you’re a Werewolf,” Tommy said. 

Buck nodded. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand. Gulped. Then: “My parents are hunters,” Buck said. 

“Hunters as in…” Tommy trailed off. 

“As in Werewolf hunters,” Buck said. 

“That’s a real thing,” Tommy said as if Buck were talking about Santa Claus or Bigfoot. 

He watched Tommy as he processed the information. It wasn’t the easiest thing to understand. Even Buck still grappled with it. After leaving them behind, he’d never quite left behind the worry for what they might be up to. There was never concrete proof as far as he could tell and when the Werewolf Division did nothing about it, Buck had sort of figured there had to be a reason. 

Buck still remembered when he told Eddie. It was right before his parents came out to see Maddie when she was pregnant. Buck had wanted Eddie to be careful just in case and he himself had had to keep himself in check the whole time. They had made it extremely difficult, and Buck had only showed up because Maddie was begging him to. He’d almost lost it with them a few times and he was lucky they hadn’t figured him out from that alone, but he would have been justified for the things they’d kept from him. He would have been justified if he just wolfed out and proved to them the monstrous side of a Werewolf. Somehow, he’d been able to hold it in. It had gone better the second time they came — of course he’d been in a coma for a part of that and they’d been busy getting to know Jee Yun. 

“Evan, where did you go just now? You said they don’t know you are a Werewolf.”

“They don’t,” Buck said. “I just…I know what they’ve done to Werewolves. I found out when I was a kid. Eleven or so. I didn’t know until a few years ago why.”

Tommy’s hand gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Buck shook his head. He hated thinking about it, about the way that it had messed him up and how he had wanted absolutely nothing to do with his parents afterwards. Still didn’t. Their apologies and explanations hadn’t meant much to Buck then and they hadn’t meant much when he saw them again the second time they came to visit. Maddie could keep her relationship with them — Buck wouldn’t tell her not to — but he couldn’t. He knew she was conflicted too, but for Maddie it was a bit different. After the wedding, unless Maddie asked him to, Buck didn’t think he would actually see his parents again. 

“I want to,” Buck said. 

Tommy nodded. “Alright.” 

“I had a brother,” Buck said. “His name was Daniel.” 

Tommy looked at him with a confused expression. Buck almost laughed. 

“It’s relevant,” Buck said and he reached for his wine glass to take a few sips. He focused on tasting the wine, but also on Tommy’s thumb on the back of his hand. 

“Okay. So, you had a brother.”

“I didn’t know about Daniel until a few years ago. I don’t think my parents would have ever told me about him. Maddie kept it from me as well…but it came out and the reason I never knew about him was that he died.”

“Oh, Evan,” Tommy said. 

It was strange, was the thing. Like mourning a stranger because he’d never known Daniel and he’d never known anything other than the way that he grew up with Maddie and distracted, traumatized parents who never moved past their grief and excused their actions with it. He felt something like sadness for a boy that never got to grow up, but he never knew him.

“He was diagnosed with Leukemia,” Buck continued. “My parents were desperate and so when it turned out neither them or Maddie were bone marrow matches they, uh, they—”

“They had you,” Tommy filled in. “You were a savior sibling.”

Buck nodded. He still didn’t quite know how to feel about it. He imagined that if it had worked out things would have been different. Maybe he would have been there as spare parts whenever his brother needed them — or perhaps even vice versa considering who Buck was. Instead, his parents had seen the whole thing as an effort to save Daniel that failed and maybe they had never fully seen Buck as more than that even when he wasn’t to blame. Not a replacement son, not the kid they wanted, but the failed experiment. 

“It didn’t work,” Buck said. “Well, Maddie got to look at the paperwork from the hospital so he rejected the bone marrow. It, uh, it didn’t matter in the end.” 

“Evan, I am so sorry,” Tommy said. 

Buck gulped. He looked at the remaining food on the table, but neither of them seemed to be interested in eating anything else. 

“So, Daniel died?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, he did. But not because he was sick. Daniel died from a Werewolf attack,” Buck said. 

Tommy looked exactly like someone that had just gotten punched completely out of the blue. It was the twist that Buck hadn’t seen coming when Maddie finally explained everything. Buck had been so angry with her. Because it was one thing when he knew that the older brother that he didn’t know existed had died while sick, it was another to find out that he’d been killed. Attacked. By a Werewolf no less. 

“What?” Tommy asked. 

“I don’t know how it happened. They didn’t explain and Maddie doesn’t know, but he got attacked. Mauled. According to Maddie there was so little left of him that they couldn’t even have a proper funeral for him.”

“And they became Werewolf Hunters,” Tommy said. 

“Yes,” Buck said. “I, uh, I reported them to the Werewolf Division of Pennsylvania when I left but clearly nothing happened. It’s not like the Division ever warned about hunters.”

“No they don’t,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “I didn’t know actual hunters existed.” 

—

In all his time as a Werewolf, Tommy had never known that Werewolf hunters were a thing. No Werewolf that he had ever met before had mentioned them and neither had the division. Evan’s story, the full explanation for why he was acting the way he was about his parents, it hurt. It hurt because it hurt Evan. He could tell that there was a deep scar left behind on Evan due to all of it. Because while Evan hadn’t said it, it had been there in the way he talked about them. They had never cherished him or loved him the way that he deserved. Instead, their grief had led them to hunt the very thing that Evan would become. 

If it were up to Tommy they would be kept far far away from Evan. Tommy could hardly understand how Evan had any type of contact with them and worse why Maddie would be okay with bringing them anywhere near Evan knowing what he was and what they were. 

“What?” Evan asked. 

“Your sister is okay with all this?”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

Tommy stared at him incredulously. “First I just thought you had a bad relationship with them, but now that I know it’s this I just…how is she still okay with them being a literal threat to your life?” 

Tommy didn’t know Maddie that well, but he’d always gotten the sense that she and Evan were close. Howie was clearly marrying her for a reason. She wasn’t bad people. The opposite, in fact. So this didn’t make sense to Tommy.  

Evan took a breath. “Maddie was there when Daniel died. She was there when he got sick and she was there when he died. I think she understands it differently. It’s not that she agrees with them, and she wouldn’t let them do anything to hurt me…they’re still our parents.”

There was something absolutely misguided about it. Then again, Tommy’s own family life was better left in the past. He couldn’t help his own very protective feelings about Evan, though. They had been horrible parents and as far as he was concerned horrible people too. 

“I don’t think I can understand that, not when they’re what you’re saying they are. Evan, they hurt people…they’ve done more than that.” 

Evan hung his head. “I know. I know.”

“Why are they allowed to get away with that?” 

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “The Division did nothing about them when I gave them a warning. I’m afraid to ask why they did nothing.”

Tommy frowned. “Evan, how many people have they hurt?”

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “I don’t want to know.” 

Tommy didn’t want to step on any toes, he didn’t want to force Evan to do anything he might not want to do, but that didn’t mean that any of this was okay and looking at Evan, he was sure that he would agree. 

“Have you ever told Athena?”

“Not in full,” Buck said. “Eddie knows. They all know I don’t get along with them but I’ve never…”

“Maybe you should.”

“I kept up with news from Hershey for a while,” Evan said, he looked a little far away. “Wanted to see if any suspicious deaths were ever reported. That type of thing. I think it made me feel better when I didn’t see any. Some of the missing person reports haunted me, though. Sometimes I tried to figure out if they were Werewolves or not.”

“Evan,” Tommy said. 

Evan’s eyes shot to him. 

“Evan, you aren’t to blame for what they’ve done.” 

“I could have done more to stop them.” 

Tommy shook his head. “No. They could have handled things better. They could have put all the energy they put into hunting to being yours and Maddie’s parents. And I really…I hate to question Maddie’s reasons but why is she bringing them back into your lives like this.” 

From how Tommy had understood it, both Maddie and Evan had left their parents behind. Maddie to marry the first husband that didn’t turn out to be a good guy, and Evan to wander the country until he found a place on the other side of the country to settle down in. 

“When Maddie got pregnant she felt like she needed to tell them,” Evan said. “I hated her for saying anything to them. It was covid, too, so I guess maybe that made her look at things differently. Plus, she knew them differently. Knew them before Daniel died. She’s not a Werewolf either so…”

“None of that makes it okay,” Tommy said. 

Evan finished the wine in his glass. “I guess I decided to just let her have them as long as I wasn’t involved. It’s how I even found out about Daniel in the first place. Maddie was pregnant and I didn’t want to add to her stress, but I didn’t speak to her for a week.”

Tommy could see how conflicted Evan was. It was the thing that allowed him to not push and to keep to himself how offended he felt on Evan’s behalf. 

“So that’s my parents,” Evan said. “The whole story. They tried to teach me their ways, it’s how I got so interested in Werewolves. They just never wanted to hear anything I said about them, not when it contradicted their whole belief system.” 

Evan stood up, then. Tommy reluctantly let go of his hand. 

“We should clean up,” Evan said and it felt like a way to put an end to the subject. 

Tommy didn’t mind. He liked that Evan had felt like he could share with him, that Tommy could handle the baggage of Evan’s family life. One day, Tommy would tell him all about his parents. How his dad had expected certain things from him and how his mother hadn’t really cared about anything including Tommy. But that would be a different day. 

Together they cleaned up the table and then did dishes and put away leftovers. Tommy loved every second of it. The way that they brushed past each other and how they would linger in each other’s space. The way that Evan kissed his cheek in passing or swatted his ass with a kitchen towel. 

It lifted the gloom of their earlier conversation, dropping them back into the ease of how they were with each other. The warmth and the comfort and the acceptance.  

Afterwards, they went out to the terrace, each of them holding a glass of wine. It was nice and windy out, the night dark but the light pollution from the city would never let them see more than the moon and maybe the shinier planets. Back when he was still with the 118, Tommy had often gone out to a spot outside of LA to stare at the sky. He didn’t really study astronomy enough to know the constellations really well, but he could admire the beauty nonetheless. He could also admire the moon. 

“No one knows why she affects us like she does,” Evan said as he sat down. “There was a book I read once that called it a curse, something that tied Werewolves to the moon that also made us possible. That book said a lot of things.”

“Yeah, like what?” 

Evan was blushing, he could see it even in the dim light as he moved the chair closer to Evan’s before he sat down. 

“It, uh, it talked about the usual things. Silver. The moon. Packs. Alphas. It also talked about mates.”

“Mates?” Tommy repeated. 

“It’s all story,” Evan said. “I’m sure you’ve come across it. Just that some Werewolves find strong compatibility with other Werewolves. They could form a kind of magical bond or something, a thing that linked them. The book called them mates. It also said that packs had to have an Alpha and that’s definitely not a thing. It’s not even a thing among regular wolves.” 

Tommy frowned at Evan. “It isn’t?” 

Evan shook his head. “Only when wolves are studied in captivity. Out in the wild, most packs are just a family. They’re all related wolves and if there is leadership it’s the parents of all the baby wolves — the male and female wolf of breeding age. You know, it’s kind of the reason they mate for life. In captivity, they’re not studying a pack as much as individual wolves thrown together. Why wouldn’t there be a fight to be on top. Wolves aren’t solitary and Werewolves certainly aren’t.”

“No we’re not,” Tommy agreed. “That’s interesting, though.” 

“What?” 

“Everything. Wouldn’t be the worst thing to have a mate.” 

Evan laughed, but he gave a short nod. His cheeks were still pink. If Werewolves actually did have mates, there was no doubt in Tommy’s mind that his would have been Evan. 

“There���s this book series about Werewolves,” Evan said. “Wolfsong is the first book. Each of the Werewolves meets their mate and it’s like this crazy strong connection. There’s so much that the author gets wrong and yet there’s things he gets really right too.” 

“Oh?” Tommy asked. 

“You’d probably like it, come to think of it. I only picked it up because I was consuming everything Werewolf at one point, even this Werewolf romance,” Evan said and then he laughed. 

“What?” 

“It’s just…I never thought about it but I think all the wolves in the book are queer. How did I not remember that…”

Tommy was suddenly a lot more interested. He was definitely more of a movie or tv-show kinda guy, but he picked up a book here or there when someone recommended it. Usually it was a thriller that Melton or one of the others at the 217 were obsessing over. As much as he loved a romcom, it just felt different to read romance especially when it was het and even more so when it got more graphic than was necessary. The last few years had brought more quality lgbtq books and Tommy had a small pile of books for when he had nothing left to watch or re-watch. He’d be adding this Werewolf book to his list. In fact, he pulled his phone out to look it up. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Looking for that series.” 

He found it after a quick google search and turned immediately to Evan. “This was written by TJ Klune.” 

“I guess so,” Evan said. “I didn’t remember the author.” 

“He wrote one of my favorite books,” Tommy said. “I have no idea how I didn’t know about this series.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to lose you for a little while to reading,” Evan said and when Tommy looked at him, he was pouting.  

“Not if you get busy reading The House In The Cerulean Sea,” Tommy pointed out. “But neither of us has a book in front of us now.” 

Evan hummed. “We don’t,” he said and then drained the last of his wine. 

Tommy did the same and he didn’t mind when Evan moved his chair so they were pressed together, or how he linked their hands. With his free hand, Evan caught Tommy’s face, thumb sweeping over Tommy’s lips and down his chin to his cleft before Evan leaned in, slanting his lips over Tommy’s. The angle wasn’t comfortable with the way they were sitting, but tasting Evan’s lips would be worth any aches and pains. 

Evan pulled back a moment later, but his gaze was glued to Tommy and his hand went down from Tommy’s cheek to his jaw to his neck and then to rest over Tommy’s chest where his heart was beating a bit faster than normal. They both leaned in, their lips meeting again. The kiss was sweet, it was deep, and Tommy could taste the last dredges of wine in Evan’s mouth.

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Mosters - Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

The small team uncovers interesting clues, and Leona has the opportunity to get to know the new helpers during action.

Hello! :D

I apologize for disappearing, but I was forced to move and the last few weeks weren't exactly easy because of that:') But now I returned and I'm back to posting more regularly!

I have a lot of trigger warnings for today's chapter, please take it seriously! TW: Blood and gore, death, violence, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of violence against minors, torture, body horror.

All this brutality has a purpose, but we have to suffer it through first to be able to see it!

Have fun!

I.M.L. - Infected mammalian lifeform. I.H.L. - Infected humanoid lifeform.

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Sixteen

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Stormy wind blows the cool raindrops falling from the dark clouds in my face, and I'm only fleetingly aware of how the bony fingers of the dry branches sticking out of the wild vegetation dig into the straps of my uniform, as I cautiously advance towards the target despite the increasingly hostile siege of the weather. Once there was a vineyard of poetic beauty here, where people retreated from all the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and could immerse themselves in comfortable relaxation and enjoy every expensive drop of the wine sold at a price of gold, away from the big cities. However, fifty years of desolation have left nothing but an overgrown jungle of vines and an endless sea of weeds that envelop them in a suffocating embrace. But this abandoned garden still serves a good purpose, because it benevolently hides all the members of our small team heading towards the huge building resting in the middle of the large estate. And we need all the kind help of nature, because even this can hardly cover the two huge men at the head of our group.

It can't be denied that after our little trio arrived at the scene of our latest adventure, the matters started moving surprisingly quickly, after the Hunter, König, shared with us all the juicy information that he so sweetly extracted from the unfortunate gang member, who they seemingly pulled out of nowhere. After explaining the coordinates, he offered the plan at least at such a fast pace, putting the whole action together with the kind of practicality that can be expected from a member of a KorTac-like, well-oiled machine. And although the fast progression of events meant only positive news for us, but I know that I wasn't the only one who had mixed feelings and came to the rather suspicion-filled realization about what financial motivation lies behind our new team's enthusiasm.

And despite the professionalism with which my two companions move together with our new helpers and their hardworking soldiers, even through the curtain of the pouring rain, I can easily make out the tension that sits in the jacket-covered shoulders of MacTavish, who strides in front of me. Maybe I would think him crazy if he wouldn't be in a flap regarding the success of our mission, since the peace of our already fragile life depends on it, but I have the sneaking suspicion that for once it's not just our operation, twisting into increasingly complicated subplots, that is responsible for the uneasiness that lingers in him and his masked bosom friend.

My bright eyes are inevitably drawn to the huge figure, who cuts through the tangled cavalcade of overgrown plant life as if it were nothing more to him than a few unruly blades of grass, breaking down the army of twigs in front of him with a few careless movements of his long hands, as he moves forward with the purposefulness of a bulldozer. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the man with a rather German-sounding name and dressed in a strange hood successfully planted the sounds of caution in my mind from the very first moment, because even though he is now an ally to us, it wasn't by chance that Shepherd hired another SSS-class fighter to play babysitter on our mission overflowing with sensitive information. The old bastard wanted to play safe by giving Riley a playmate from his own weight group, and if there is even an iota of truth to my intuition that the two mercenaries will also include a very open ear for us along with their helping hand, then in addition to finding the serum we also have to make sure that they don't stab us in the back and inform the old man about every breath we take. Because that would be the logical step if the leader of the colony wanted complete discretion. That he silences us, who know an embarrassing amount about his rather criminal dealings. And who else would be more suitable for this chore than two killers abundantly loaded with credits, who present just the right challenge to my partners.

It's enough for me to glance at the masked Hunter, who is lurking not far behind the guy who resembles a smaller yeti, and his hand clenched on his weapon says enough about how comfortable he feels in the newly established set-up. Of course, those who are in deep shit shouldn't be picky when fate takes pity on them, but I can understand why this terrifying man is still troubled by the fact that the big boss has given us friends who would be able to give him a hard time too. I know that these thoughts have crossed his mind as well, and that is precisely why he remains in his colleague's heels like an ineradicable shadow. Because he wants to be the first to cut his throat if he tries anything even remotely suspicious.

During the raging storm, the few minutes seem like decades until we reach the end of the rows of grapes, and the line of a beaten stone fence appears in the wind-torn, knee-high grass. I obediently follow the Scottish Hunter, who kneels behind the low wall on the muddy ground, and almost immediately takes a closer look at the remains of the hotel stretching out in front of us, that once served as the site of expensive vacations. I have to admit that the bastard who leads the separatist group has pretty good taste, because even though all that's left of the once-luxurious comfort is a battered, empty skeleton, it's still just inviting enough to be suitable for hiding. But what’s perhaps even more remarkable is that, according to König, these people chose the imposing hideout not only because of the nostalgia that reminds them of the prosperity of the old days, but also because even though this den is located right in the middle of the red zone, yet it’s conveniently far from any well-known nest. Of course, this mystery could easily be explained by the fact that such a wandering troupe gains a lot of useful experience when roaming in the wilderness, but they have avoided danger too skillfully so far for it to be a mere lucky coincidence. At the head of this gang is someone who, like Valeria, has just enough experience to avoid the watchful eyes of the authorities and the sharp claws of mutants. Terribly interesting.

"That's the back door. We'll enter there." I hear the voice thick with an accent on the radio that breaks through the rustle of the wind, and I only peer at our hooded tour guide from the corner of my eye. And I'm once again reminded of the sheer size of the hired Hunter, because even though he shrunk himself down to the smallest possible size to the best of his capabilities, his broad shoulders still peek out spectacularly from the cover of the fence. And unlike Riley, whose enticingly massive measurements fill me mostly with excitement, König's stature plants dozens of sinister thoughts in my skull. My masked companion has also been blessed by nature and the kind genes of his species with a figure that commands authority, but our new mate surpasses even that. And I can't shake the suspicion that he uses this magnificent physique with the efficiency of a living weapon, which I have no problem with as long as he doesn't want to test his unparalleled skills against us. I warmly advise him not to do this, because due to the sea of crap that I experienced in these last few weeks, my stimulus threshold has decreased just enough to kill him after the first bad movement. Even if I have to be smart about it.

"It's not that heavely protected." Comes the curt observation from Riley, and now I direct my eyes toward the target in front of us instead of studying our new teammate, because it would be timely for me to dedicate my brain capacity to the mission as well. And at first glance, the whole place exudes a deceptive desertedness, but I dont let the apparent immobility mislead me. Because I immediately understand what the masked man saw so keenly. It's enough to observe the dark figures appearing through the cracks of the boarded-up windows to know that, although the vagaries of the weather are in our favor and there are no more guards than necessary, but inside it’s not certain that we will be so lucky. The task is made even more difficult by the fact that we have to catch the main bastard, because based on the information forced out from the weakest link, none of his subordinates was sufficiently informed about the group's business affairs to be able to spill wherever our stolen serum may be.

"Let's go." König immediately takes the initiative, and even before he would wait for his idea to be acknowledged, he springs up and jumps over the stone wall with such ease, as if our improvised hiding place, which is at least waist-high for me, would be nothing more than a small inconvenience that can easily be crossed.

However, there is no time to hesitate, because as soon as the man, burning with the fever of readiness to get into action, takes the first few meters on the quite open field covered with overgrown grass, he is almost immediately followed by Horangi and his stern-eyed men, leaving us no chance to wait around either. And all I need is a quick glance at the masked Hunter swinging over the wall to know, that the leadership role that his new colleague arbitrarily seized for himself is not really to his taste. Because although he doesn't voice his displeasure with a single word, I have observed him just enough to recognize the tension in his heavy steps. He has enough sense of duty to endure frustration for the sake of our goal, but I know that this charming patience won't last forever. And I have a feeling that this whole impossible situation is getting on his nerves enough to lure his less diplomatic self out of him. He will work together as long as he has to, but not for a minute longer. What a rosy outlook.

Just as MacTavish moves next to me, suppressing a tired sigh under his breath, and nimbly leaps over the fence after his bosom friend, then I finally pull myself together and throw my weapon on my back to swing myself to the other side, following the Scotsman. We cross the few narrow meters that separate us from the building at lightning speed, and I thank the increasingly fierce storm, because we would otherwise be embarrassingly easy targets even in this short distance. And the fact that the surrounding area of the structure is so easy to keep an eye on raises the suspicion in me again, that it could only have been designated as a temporary accommodation by someone who had enough experience to know what difficulty the long grassy wasteland poses for a curious wanderer trying to get close to it. And this makes me more and more curious as to who might be at the head of the separatists, because all their actions so far indicate that they aren't just a simple criminal.

In front of the beat-down entrance, the soldiers wait for the instructions of their leader, who, when he is sure that we have arrived successfully, opens the door without a second of delay and charges forward with decisiveness, raising his weapon in front of him, closely followed by his Korean comrade, who lets us know with just a wave that we'd better follow their example, if we don't want to fail prematurely by waiting around in the doorstep. Although I'm not particularly impressed by the behavior of the two men, but based on the expression on the faces of my two friends, I can be sure that they do not share my lack of interest. This may not be the first time they have had to work with strangers, and maybe it wouldn't hurt their egos to not be in control of the whole operation, but it's all the more likely that they will be at least as comfortable tolerating this treatment from Shepherd's men as if someone were pulling their teeth out. And I strongly hope, praying to any higher authority listening, that this whole circus doesn't turn into a dick-measuring contest in the middle of a world-shattering event, because even Riley, who keeps his cool very skillfully, won't tolerate it without saying a word.

My boots land on the worn marble floor with a wet thump, when, at the end of the line, I cross the threshold into the embrace of the dark little corridor, and my nose is hit almost immediately by the musty smell of mold spreading on the damp walls. Despite the late spring weather, the whole place radiates an unfriendly coldness, and as the intrusive caress of the breeze blowing through the vacant building penetrates my soaked clothes, goosebumps erupt on my back instinctively. The huge house looks lifeless enough to fool the less experienced travelers, but my eyes aren’t the only ones who notice the mud-covered footprints on the dirty stone, which spread along the hallway shrouded in darkness. According to this, these bastards are tough enough to kill civilians, but they prefer to hide from a small thunderstorm within the four walls, even if they voluntarily let the attackers into their dwelling by doing it. I wasn't wrong about these thieves being cruel, but far more stupid than it would first appear.

We start silently towards the depths of the hotel, and the hooded man leading the way guides us to the source of the dull light coming from a distance, dictating a slow but all the more determined pace, with such a soundless softness compared to his height, like a predator scouting for prey. And his caution soon pays off, because as soon as he reaches the end of the passageway, a guy dressed in ragged combat gear appears in the small room before us, who notices the danger coming towards him too late. Because when he breaks away from his deep conversation on the radio and glances towards us, König ia already in front of him with impossible speed, crossing the distance between him and his victim with three wide steps with his long legs. And before the bandit could react, and would be able to open his mouth and alarm his companions, by then, a huge hand already lands on his face, and swallowing the startled shock, which crawls there with instinctive speed when he realizes that he has fallen into the grasp of a giant. But he doesn't even have time to understand what is happening, because with the momentum with which he galloped towards him, the Hunter rams the criminal, frozen in stunned terror, against the nearest wall just as easily. And even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to do anything about the attack, because as suddenly as it came, his attacker ends his life as quickly. The crack with which the helpless man's skull splits open when it meets the concrete is stomach-churning, and the once cream-colored plaster is turned into a grotesque painting by the bloody pieces of brain tissue bursting from the shattered bones. And I have to forcefully fight the stomach acid gathering in my throat, when an eyeball appears for a moment from between the gloved fingers, staring blankly at me before falling to the ground with the lifeless body, as it's released by its killer. But perhaps it enhances the discomfort in me even more when our new teammate turns towards us with such cold calmness, shaking off the shattered pieces of slimy meat stuck to his glove, as if he had not just crushed a person's head with his bare hands, but had just swatted a naughty fly.

And even though I know how powerful Hunters are, I can only drive away the surprise mixed with disgust on my face with great concentration, because this ruthlessness surpasses everything that my dark little mind has thought possible until now. It was definitely a successful way to silence someone, but even I can see that it wasn't about efficiency. Because, when he fixes his gaze on his men emerging from the corridor, and takes in the respect and fear that appears on their faces, even I can see the satisfaction with which his back straightens. And I don't need to know this brutal man to understand, that he eased the hunger of his own self-confidence with this gruesome but spectacular stunt.

And when I, behind Riley and MacTavish, wander into the small hall leading to what may be the staff passageways, I have the opportunity to observe the grim expression slowly taking shape on their faces as well. Perhaps they also feel that this presentation didn't only take place so that the soldiers know their place, but also carries an unspoken threat, with which their colleague lets them know that it would be advisable for them to behave well, because someone has joined their company who will be able to cause them problems even without activating his ability. Shepherd… you dirty fucker. You want us to remember that help can disappear quickly if we don't play by the rules. How awfully smart.

"We split up here. One team goes upstairs, the others search through the ground floor." König turns to our small group, still maintaining the noble task of managing the mission, gesturing with one hand to the stairs opening from the back of the place, and then to the corridors on both sides, facing each other. With his tall figure, he easily stands out from among us, as he quickly scans his men, looking for any brave volunteer who would not agree with his proposal. And when he only receives a curt but obedient nod, he turns towards us to find our trio, and his eyes settles on me inexplicably quickly, zeroing in on me with embarrassing speed. And this isn't the first time since our not-so-distant meeting that he has found me so enthusiastically. Ever since he stepped out of that cramped container used for interrogation, he discovers me from time to time again, as if there would be a fucking magnet stuck on my pretty little body, drawing his attention to me as soon as I'm within range.

And although every single one of my facial muscles melts into the determined mask of expressionlessness, as his gaze sinks into mine, a visceral uneasiness awakens in my stomach. Because although I knew from the first minute that we had to be on guard, since probably at the end of Shepherd's leash made of money they are only allies for us until their master orders them otherwise, but he slowly makes it very clear that both his demonstration of strength and his behavior serves as a warning. And it doesn't make me happy at all when I come to the painful realization that, unlike my two companions, I would have a harder time defending myself if our cooperation took a rough turn. I know that he can't harm me right now, since the success of the mission is too important for that, but the little voice in my brain tells me that I'd better watch out for him, because it doesn't mean anything good that he is keeping an eye on me so readily. I could chalk it up to the fact that, being a good Hunter, he is just afraid of the physical integrity of a valuable Extreme, if I'm so exotic, but I can't get rid of the small fleeting intuition that this is about something else. And I don't like the curious glimmer in those sky-blue eyes when I stubbornly raise my head. No matter how big you are, you will need a lot more than that to scare me.

"You're goin' upstairs with Soap." Riley suddenly speaks, thus breaking me out of the tense stare-down duel that I'm unconsciously engaging with the behemoth man, and I turn with the greatest joy to the masked Hunter, who lingers on his colleague for a dangerous moment, before turning his hard gaze on me. "Stay alert." He leans closer, covering us from the audience with his back, and even this small act speaks quite eloquently of how much trust he has for our new teammates. And I can't blame him for that, because even though we need all the help, none of us lost our minds from gratitude. Especially not him, who runs circles in his head similar to my paranoid brain, probably because he has too many bitter experiences behind him to be naive. He knows too, how sensitive this alliance is.

I only hold his gaze for a heartbeat longer, and that's enough to see the weariness lurking in his dark eyes, next to which my trained little senses recognize the tiny little light that seems quite concerned even to my mind struggling with colorful imagination. And after the busy events of the past few days, I don't necessarily feel delusional anymore when it occurs to me, that he will be worried not only about his bff, but also about my safety, when he starts his lonely journey in this ex-resort that has become a crime den. And this lures a faint, but still naughty little curve to my lips, with which I silently tell him that it will take a lot more than a couple of lowlife thieves to make me bite the dust. Unfortunately, no one gets rid of my mean little person that easily. Although I have a feeling that this caution is not for the criminals who roam the walls…

But even before I could come up with a particularly witty answer for him, a hand lands on my shoulder and directs my thoughts, which have strayed into inappropriate side tracks, to their owner. And as my Scottish friend bursts into my field of vision, clutching his gun, he motions with his head towards the stairs leading upstairs, showing quite obviously that it's time for us to get to work before the gang realizes what surprise is being prepared for them in secret.

"Come on, lassie. There are bastards we need to put some holes into." He reminds me, and the serious expression, that has been stubbornly clinging to his features since the beginning of our current outing, softens from the tiny line of the cheeky smile that moves to his stubble-framed mouth. And although it's possible that the circumstances of our alliance have made him more cautious, I know that he has by no means forgotten the many horrors, some of which he owes to the outlaws who loiter here. Even if our adventure in the city is not their making, the bloodshed caused in the research institute is, and I know the man well enough to know that the possibility of paying off some of the many painful promises is responsible for his enthusiasm. And I won't stand in his way for a minute.

"After you." I gesture with one of my hands towards the path leading up, thus handing over the stage to the Hunter to let him turn into the tour guide, if he is already buzzing with such energy. And he immediately seizes the opportunity, raising his assault rifle in front of him, to bid farewell to his masked bosom friend with a last meaningful nod, and head towards the stairs. And I obediently close up behind him with my weapon pointed forward ready to attack, glancing back at Riley once more before disappearing into the maze of spiraling steps. And perhaps it means nothing to an outside observer, as he raises his head and follows the progress of our little duo with unbroken persistence, but my senses, which are desperately quick to notice every small twitch of his, quickly discover the small wrinkles that appear around the painted skin around his eyes. And I can understand from this, that he is parting from us with an anxious heart, but he is much calmer when he can put a safe distance between us and our helpers who are slowly organizing themselves into smaller groups. He would rather be alone among the wolves than expose us to the same danger. And the unpleasant nervousness awakening in my stomach only hopes that the two mercenaries won’t feel like turning against us right now.

But before long, the small gathering disappears from my vision, as the steps continue to turn towards the upper floor, and we are swallowed up by the narrow staircase. The sound of our soaked boots is blessedly absorbed by the worn velvet carpet that runs along the stairs, thus enveloping our silently sneaking pair in a dangerous silence. And the higher we get, the stronger the suspicion gets in my head, because we get to the top floor too easily and undisturbed, as if no one had taken up residence within the walls of the abandoned facility. And although the massive building offers plenty of hiding places, these wretched vermins don't know they have guests, and this silence is far more ominous than what my paranoid mind can bear. That's why my fingers instinctively tighten around the grip of my gun, preparing to pump the very first suspicious shadow full of ammunition.

MacTavish pauses only for a moment at the end of the staircase to cautiously peer out from behind the wall looking for the enemy. And when he is certain it's safe to proceed and no unsuspecting gang members have appeared to attack, he gestures forward with his gloved hand, and I understand his silent request even from the small gesture and follow him as he steps out into the wide corridor framed by carved wood. Once upon a time, it was probably a fortune to pack this tasteful covering here, but now the thin cracks run along them like a spiderweb from the moisture and the iron teeth of time, replacing the former luxury with a ghostly atmosphere. However, it attracts my attention much more, and it also makes my Scottish friend wonder, where to go on the dark road, because each of the two paths opening towards the wings of the building has the same chance of hiding valuable targets.

But I don't have to think too much about where we should head next, for the man precedes me in discovery, and I merely raise one of my eyebrows in interest, when he closes his eyes and sniffs the stale air, like a hunting dog looking after the wounded prey. Although there is already a sassy comment on the tip of my tongue about his methods, he turns his head to the side surprisingly quickly, staring with such intensity at the dark corridor opening on the right, as if he really would be hot on the scent. His super-senses probably recognized the stench of the gangsters lurking between the walls quite accurately, because after flashing his blue eyes at me meaningfully, he sets off across the worn carpet with such determination as if he had actually found his prey.

And it soon becomes clear how effectively his abilities developed by nature detect the enemy, because as we get further into the narrow pathway, the faint noise of our steps is accompanied by the characteristic, soft murmur of human speech, which although doesn't uncovers the topic of the discourse, but reveals that there is more than one person waiting for us on the other side. A gloomy, gray light greets us as soon as we reach the end of the corridor, and following the Hunter's example, I lean against the cool wall, listening to the fragments of words drifting in our way. One of the members is probably wandering closer to us, because the conversation he is having with his friends is gradually becoming more audible, and although I don't know the context, I don't like what I can finally understand from it in the least.

"Take the bitch to the boss in two hours. Until then, do something to wake her up. She must be awake." Murmurs the deep male voice, and the disdain in his tone fills me with disgust without even knowing who he could be talking about so kindly. It's not only the tone that helps plant frustration in my brain, but also the fact that there are civilians here, probably not of their own volition, because it only makes our task more difficult. Because the whole mission quickly progresses from the initial capture of the main scum to hostage rescue. And it's clear from the muffled cursing coming out of MacTavish's mouth that he isn't particularly excited by this unexpected development, and if I have to judge only by the clenched curve of his jaw, then his already not-so-rosy mood is only getting worse.

Based on his steps, the guy barking out his instructions gets closer to us, and when he comes into view at the mouth of the corridor, he stares at the two of us in puzzlement. But, when he could reach for the pistol resting on his belt, my friend with the mohawk springs into action, and cuts the throat of the man with a knife taken from his vest with deadly precision, before the guy would have the chance to alert what a pleasant new company his gang has got in our person. Like a waterfall set free, the blood gushes out of the wound, and with wide-open eyes, desperately gaping, he tries to press his palms to the slit, but the crimson liquid escapes unstoppably between his fingers, and my stomach tightens from the metallic smell. But it's more of a reflexive response than true hunger, and my eyes instinctively fixate on the delicacy that slowly drenches the man's jacket, then draws a dark puddle around him as he sprawls on the ground with one last choked gasp. And luckily for this wretch, because of my self-control and Riley's surprisingly nutritious blood, I don't feel the insatiable urge to crank up his agony with a nice little snacking. 

"We're goin' in. On me." MacTavish says, gesturing towards the room with his head, and I nod, adjusting my finger on the trigger, giving him the kick-start to push forward with the determination of a true professional. And when he steps into the spacious room bathed in light, then, without hesitation, he aims at the scumbags that are hanging out there, immediately putting a bullet in the head of one of them, as soon as he jumps up to honor the surprise that we give them.

And emerging from behind his strong figure, I launch myself into the attack, and thanks to the many hours spent with suffering on the shooting range, it's much easier for me to shoot the big guy standing guard in front of the double doors on the other side of the hall, who, thanks to my clever little ambush, falls down to the pale blue tile with a pained scream. However, there is no time to pat myself on the back for my magnificent performance, because much sooner than that, another volunteer charges at me, swinging his knife at me to try to reshape my face. But the lack of coordination in his movements gives me enough time, and my body acts much faster. I bend down to get out of the way of the blade, and taking advantage of his surprise, I point the barrel of my gun at his stomach, so that I can reorganize his internal organs with my bullets at friendly close range. Warm blood splashes on my face, but it doesn't affect me one bit, because it gives me much more satisfaction to see him stagger backwards, with genuine shock on his face, like a wounded animal. I don't feel an iota of guilt, because they didn't show a shred of compassion when they were playing hide ans seek with the defenseless staff in the research institute. Fate gives everyone what they deserve. And I don't even want to deny that it fills me with great pleasure to be able to contribute to its vendetta.

It's all but a few minutes, and all the stray sounds of our incipient fight die down, leaving nothing but the angry pattering of the rain on windows stretching up to the ceiling on the side of the room. The Scottish Hunter finishes off the last bandit as I straighten up and turn around to see how many enemies he has left me. He effortlessly pulls out the knife from the head of a bald man, which he could have sunk into his skull up to the hilt with an impossible force, and then, wiping the blade with a careless movement, steps back, allowing the lifeless body to fall into the empty pool in the middle of the room. And as it lands with a dull thud, it kicks up decades old dirt that has gathered in dirty stains on the dried, mosaic-like tiles.

"There is something behind the door that was worth being protected." I conclude as I take a look at the unmoving criminals spread out on the floor, quickly counting all eight that have got together so intimately in this cozy little hall. And since I suspect that they didn't gather among the remains of the indoor swimming pool because of nostalgia for the past, therefore they could only try to hide something very interesting behind that door, in front of which now lies the still corpse of the humongous gang member I shot.

"Probably the hostages." MacTavish notes walking beside me, his blue eyes fixed on the tastefully crafted solid wood entrance, slowly sliding his knife back into its pouch resting on his shoulder strap. And there is no mistake in his assumption, because it has already come to light that at least one person is being held captive in this magnificent shithole. But even if a dozen defenseless civilians were locked up here, far fewer armed guards would have been enough to keep them in check, especially if they were so weakened that life had to be breathed into them by force. They were trying to protect something else with such fearful concern here.

"Fewer people would have been enough for that. There is something else there." I cast my significant gaze on my friend, and he turns his head to me with his eyebrows furrowed. But as our eyes meet, he understands without words what I'm getting at. If something very important, say a super-secret chemical created by the government, is buried on the other side, then it's very reasonable for a bunch of guards to stand by, vigilantly waiting to see if someone comes to retrieve it.

"Let's go." The Hunter sets off with renewed motivation, and I follow him with no less vigor, because the knowledge that the end of this fucking parade overflowing with chaos can be within arms reach makes my steps much more faster. We cross the room briskly, so that when we reach the threshold of our next goal, I step over the bloodied man lying there and smooth my hand on the doorknob, glancing expectantly at the Hunter. And when he pulls himself together with his assault rifle raised and nods towards me, ready to attack, I push the door open with a decisive movement and let MacTavish charge forward, who rushes past me immediately.

But as I enter as well, and the spacious suite is revealed to me, I'm greeted by nothing but silence and a multitude of unknown crates, which are piled next to each other in rough irregularity, covering the space of a room that was once worth a fortune. And I don't have to tear any of them open to know what's in them, because the smell of gunpowder permeates the air like a disease. Lowering his weapon, the man with the mohawk ventures further into the room, opening one of the large boxes with bewilderment, and when I catch a glimpse of the metallic shine of the almost untouched rifles in it, I'm overcome with confusion similar to my friend's. I expected to find a couple of questionable, but all the more valuable items, but the absence of the hostages, and especially the lack of the serum, raises a series of dangerous questions in my head. Why was it necessary to protect stolen firearms so enthusiastically? Of course, I understand that goods have to be protected, but they can't just walk away, can they?

But when a disapproving grunt-like voice erupts from my Scottish companion, I quickly understand what could have needed such an awful lot of protection besides the rifles. As soon as the first bag full of white powder is found in another opened box, it becomes very obvious that these bandits got their hands on everything that could be used to bring in even the smallest amount of credits. So it's not so surprising that they were willing to cross the wilderness teeming with mutants and slaughter a whole group of unsuspecting researchers for the sake of profit. Of course, that still leaves one question open. Where are the civilians?

But I don't have time to dwell on that, because a roaring bang shakes the building out of nowhere, sending fine plaster dust from the ceiling into my rain-drenched hair. I smooth the damp dirt from my face with the back of my hand, smearing the drops of blood there, only glancing questioningly at MacTavish, on whose face suddenly the apparent gloom deepens, as if he knows that this noise can only mean trouble. And without a doubt, it does, because when he rushes to one of the boarded-up windows and peeks through the gap, he reaches for his radio in the middle of cussing.

"Ghost! What the hell is goin' on there?" He shouts into the device, and his deep voice is filled with such tension that I'm becoming more and more curious as to what his clever eyes could have seen in the yard that caused such concern on his face. But, as I walk towards him, a small, tormented whimper pierces through the chaos that has arisen, which reminds me more of the cry of a tortured animal than of a human being. And that instantly distracts me from the man and the troubling goings-on outside, as the uncomfortable pull in my stomach automatically directs my eyes to the single door on the side of the room.

"We found the target. It's a Hunter and he resists." Riley's hoarse baritone sounds in my ears, but the weight of the information doesn't reach my consciousness due to the noise of the alarm bells going off in my brain. I don't even register as the Hunter, hearing the new information, bursts out in colorful insults, because my legs instinctively take me towards my discovery, and with each step, the soft, muffled sobs become louder, which another voice tries to shush to silence.

"Woods, we have to go!" My partner suddenly calls out after me, but I don't even listen to his urging, because I'm already in front of the unknown entrance, and before he can inquire further about what the hell I'm doing, instead of rushing to the aid of our team with him, I already lock my fingers onto the doorknob and turn it without thinking, opening the wooden panel with a sudden movement.

And the blood freezes in my veins when I see what awaits me beyond the doorway. The light coming from behind me eerily paints the dim little bathroom, and licks at the figure of two strangers clinging to each other, backed into one of the corners. The boy, whose dirt-darkened face is smeared with lines of fresh tears, can't be more than fifteen, but a thousand years of pain and fear are concentrated in his eyes widening in alarm, as he curls up shivering in the embrace of protectively intertwined arms. The bony hands clenched around him bear the angry contours of several old wounds and dozens of seemingly new bruises, and even in spite of this, the woman, trembling, but all the more determined, pulls her protégé's body, weak from malnutrition, to her chest, saying with every cell that she will protect the poor kid even with her last breath. And as my eyes slide down to her ankles, where the thick shackles have rubbed spots blooming in black and purple, and then my gaze moves up and takes in the brownish scales of dried blood on the inside of her thighs, my stomach is clenched with such force by desperate rage that I can only forcefully hold back the scream that threatens to burst out of my throat. Because it doesn't take much logic to deduce who is held here in such high esteem when a Hunter is the leader of the whole fucking group.

"What the hell..." Comes the shocked question from MacTavish as he suddenly appears next to me, both of them flinching in fear at the man's voice. The boy starts to cry with renewed force, and the horrified sob that escapes from his chapped lips squeezes my insides as if someone had hit me in the stomach full force with a hammer. And this instinctively makes my hand reach back and motion to the Hunter to back away, and without taking my eyes off the pair I crouch down, laying my weapon on the ground with such caution as if with each movement I risked them disappearing into the shadows stretching behind them. And without a doubt, they would most likely want to do that, because the utterly distrustful look with which they follow me the entire time reveals that there is nothing else in this world that they wouldn't expect to hurt them, for they have already experienced so much misery.

"It's okay, you have nothing to fear. I'm a Healer too." I point to myself, and I try with every fiber of my being to move tenderness into my voice, which is difficult not because I rarely had to practice it, but because of the rage screaming in my brain, since I would rather gut the bastard who was capable of doing this. "I want to help. Don't be afraid."

And although the terror eases for a bit, with which they press themselves into the musty walls, but as the boy timidly pulls away from the woman a little, his bare legs emerge from under his outstretched T-shirt, and thus every desperate inch of his nakedness is revealed, then something quite terrifying, hot feeling flares up inside me. Because when I see the hand-like marks on his narrow, bony hips, the sure knowledge that the sick bastard who brought them here hasn’t spared any of them settles into my mind with a cruel force. And when my gaze, darkened by recognition, meets the woman's silent, distraught eyes, I can read from them that the horror that unfolded before me is only the tip of the iceberg. Fuck.

⃰

My legs take me almost automatically through the labyrinth of the unknown base, and even I'm surprised by how quickly I rush out into the yard, finding the familiar hangar and continuing my journey there. But my brain is too busy to have the energy to praise myself for my excellent orientation skills. Because every single nerve cell of mine is woven through with that icy rage that has nested itself in all the corners of my body like an infectious disease. And even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to overcome the destructive storm raging under the surface, because I still vividly remember what kind of injuries I discovered on the bodies of the two Healers when I finally treated them after we returned to the KorTac base with the separatist leader in our hands. The mission ended with a rapid success after the minor complication, and the knowledge that we are one step closer to finding the serum should cheer me up, but I felt their trembling under my own hands when I supported them out of that damned cesspool. And it isn't difficult to imagine what kind of treatment they received, if the boy was already clinging to me with fear when MacTavish tried to give him a coat. I saw in my mind's eye every single bone that had just been fused together, every single scar and bruise, and also the wounds that one can only suffer when a beast cannot command its fucking dick and stucks it into everything, it doesn't matter if the hole it found, what or who it belongs to.

I stare straight ahead as I enter the vast space of the hangar, and I'm only vaguely aware of how readily the soldiers passing by move out of my way when they see the frozen expression on my face. At other times, it might fill me with morbid joy to see what effect I can have on my environment, but now only one goal guides and directs me towards the container resting in the corner. I want to show that fucking sadistic bastard with my own hands, what kind of torture can drive a man to the point of begging for death.

But when I get close enough to the large metal cage, a strong figure appears in front of me almost out of nowhere, and it takes me a second to realize who is standing before me through the fog of fury raging in my head. The Korean man holds out one of his camo-clad hands in front of me, causing me to halt and take a deep breath, trying to muster every last spark of my self-control before I would jump on him with an inarticulate yell and help him stand aside.

"You can't go in, there's an interrogation going on." Horangi declares firmly, and even though I can't see his face, I can sense from his accent that he is very serious about his statement intended as an instruction. And maybe it's not customary for them to allow simple Healers to interfere in the busy work of the Hunters, but right now I don't care in the least what traditions and rules they keep here. Because my patience is hanging on by a thread, and every single obstacle that stands between me and my victim dangerously stretches my tolerance to the point of snapping.

"If you don't get out of my way, I'll kill you." I inform him without a flinch, and I flash my eyes at him with such a significant warning that even a brainless idiot would be able to understand that I'm one step away from sending him to the other world. And in any other case, maybe with my sharp tongue and brilliant mind, I would come up with a good little ploy to trick and manipulate him, but this isn't the point where I feel like wasting my precious time on such things.

He examines me silently for a moment, and I can almost hear the battle of arguments in his head, with which he considers how much it pays off for him to stand in my way now. He also knows that if he wanted to, he could easily overpower me, but I know that the murderous temper in my eyes promises him enough trouble if he insists on following the protocols. And it seems that my aura has become sinister enough to make him come around, because he steps aside with a staged sigh and folds his hands in front of his chest, turning his attention back to guarding instead.

"They don't pay enough for this." He grumbles almost to himself, shaking his head in resignation, but apart from the sounds of his complaining, does nothing to keep me back in my little action. And I only give him one last fleeting glance, and then without any further hesitation, I tear open the door perhaps more violently than necessary, because the anger pulsating in my muscles removes all caution from my limbs.

As the small room opens up in front of me, all eyes are fixed on me almost at the same time, my presence interrupting the important conversation spiced with violence that they are currently having. My senses catch the grimness with which Riley turns towards me, and if I were a little calmer, I would stop to analyze the force with which his fingers tighten around the knife clutched in his hand, as he studies the motionless look on my face more closely. But even though the Hunter attracts my attention, I can only focus on one person now, and he sits in the middle of the room on a battered chair with such superiority, as if he weren't surrounded by three mountain-sized men trained to kill. And even though König slowly grasps a hammer in his hands, which can mean nothing but pain to him, he has the strength to put a cocky grin on his face. And suddenly it becomes quite obvious that, in spite of the beating they gave this scumbag, they still haven't managed to get him to talk. Never mind. I'll handle this.

"Woods!" MacTavish turns to me, and from the concern in his voice, I can sense quite simply that now he doesn't want me to witness all this bloody fun in the least. And certainly not because he wants to spare my sensitive psyche from watching someone being tortured for information, but because he saw exactly the effect it had on me when I had the opportunity to admire the handiwork of this separatist bastard on his two victims.

Without a sound, I close the door of the interrogation room behind me, and it seems that our prisoner is slowly realizing that a new guest has arrived at the party organized in his honor. And as his eyes glide over me, and I discover in them the disgusting hunger with which such sick fucks usually ogle at their prey, then the anger pulsing inside me spreads to my limbs like lava. Because the first reflexive thought that pops into my mind is the body of the two Healers shaking with terror as this pair of filthy eyes stares at them from the threshold of their prison.

"You finally brought a hottie here!" Exclaims the bandit cheerfully, not even noticing how the masked Hunter takes a threatening step towards him because of this small remark, perhaps hoping that this will be enough to shut this idiot up. But it seems that although he is running a race with wisdom, unfortunately, it's still faster than him. Because if he had any sense, he wouldn't raise his head like an alpha male, and he would know what a tight spot he was in. "This is an Extreme! I've never fucked one before... Come here baby, let's talk!" He whistles to me, as if he was just trying to lure a dog to him, and there is no doubt that he doesn't regard my kind as more than pretty, useful little animals.

"Shut the fuck up!" MacTavish gets angry on my behalf, and shakes the leader of the separatists with such anger that the chair cries out with wild creak. And other times, I would feel the warmth rising in my stomach at my friend with the mohawk trying to protect me and my honor, but this turn of events awakens such a worrying joy in me that even I get scared for a minute. And I can clearly perceive the confusion on the face of the Scottish Hunter, when a seductive smile appears on my face suddenly in place of the icy anger, as I stroll closer to the stage with comfortable steps, where I will show the performance of my life.

"It's all right, Soap." I carelessly wave to the aforementioned person, and I can tell from the arch of his worriedly furrowing eyebrows, how much my mood, which took a one hundred and eighty turn, fills him with doubts.  But soon he will understand what's going on, he doesn't have to be afraid. "You want to talk to me? You're in luck because I've been waiting for this opportunity. And now that you're sitting here all tied up like a gift... It all feels like a fucking miracle." I note, slowly running my hands along the line of my breasts hidden in my T-shirt, and the gaze of the captured criminal follows the path of my mischievous little fingers with such diligence, as if he were hypnotized. And it's likely the case, because it doesn't even register to him how unnatural is the carefree airiness with which I bypass a grim Riley, and with which I push König away with a soft touch, who, despite our brief acquaintance, backs up to the wall of the container without question.

"You have good taste, baby." The man grins with satisfaction, and it's easy to read from the superiority prevailing on his features that he really believes this to be true. He thinks he is a real jackpot, and I fell in love at first sight and danced in front of him, perhaps in the hope that such a big and strong Hunter boy would finally grace me with his attention. Because it's ridiculously obvious that according to his beliefs, a Healer is born only to serve. How cute.

However, when I arrive in front of him and lean forward, my hands slide onto his thighs, and my fingers sensually squeeze the flesh under the blood-stained fabric, then I see uncertainty run through his mind for a second. But that little spark that would prompt suspicion doesn't last long, because as I kneel between his legs tied to the chair, the two little brain cells that might still be functioning in his head go silent with alarming speed. His pupils dilate almost magically, and it's pathetic how his mouth hangs open as I slowly start massaging the tortured muscles with my palm. How terribly stupid.

"Why don't we play a little, hmm?" I ask softly, giving him a lustful look from under my eyelashes, conveying innocent longing to him with every cell, as if I had no greater desire in this world than to play with him. And it's true. It's an insignificant detail, that he and I are thinking of different kind of fun.

"Now?" The first recognizable wrinkles of doubt appear on his forehead, when reality suddenly penetrates the sensual images dancing in his fantasy. And I have to forcefully suppress the laughter that rises in my throat when he fixes his gaze almost shamefully on the Hunters who have retreated to be the audience. As if the sense of embarrassment had revived in him for a moment, and he would be disturbed by the witnesses, before whom he acted so confident a minute ago. But I don't allow him to sink into this wandering fear, because as one of my fingers travels up to his face and redirects his concentration back to me, I press closer to him, making sure that every inviting inch and curve of my body comes into contact with him.

"Don't pay attention to them. I'm a little shy, but I'll make an exception for you." I purr sweetly, smearing the blood that escaped from the cut across his face with my thumb, as I stroke the damaged skin almost soothingly. I can hear the air getting stuck in his throat as I slowly raise my crimson-painted finger to my lips and clean the delicious liquid with my tongue. How awfully simple.

"You're a little whore, aren't you?" That disgustingly amused grin returns to his face, simultaneously throwing aside any sanity that might have lurked in his head. But I don't blame him for being frivolous, because I know exactly what qualities genetics has blessed me with, and I've managed to sweep my victims off their feet many times with this and my perfectly honed manipulation. After all, what kind of predator would I be if I couldn't lull the vigilance of my prey?

I capture his gaze with unceasing enthusiasm, as I pull away from him to sit on my heels, and the disappointed moan that escapes from his mouth is pitiful. But I won't leave him anxious for long, because I grab his tattered shirt and release it from the grip of his pants with a firm movement, so that my nimble little hands can find their way to every unprotected inch of his stomach. And as my palm smooths over the hot skin, I feel how willingly it shivers under my gentle touch, like a real bewitched idiot.

"You like that, hmm?" I hum sensually, and when my curious energy slowly creeps into him through my fingers, goosebumps rise up under my hand as he closes his eyes accompanied by a sigh full of pleasure. And this is the number one mistake that a smart person would never make. They would not lose sight of their enemy, who, although approaches him with nice words and even kinder gestures, still wants his fall. But one learns the most from the lessons they suffer on their own skin. And now I will teach him wisdom that he will never forget.

In my mind, the intricate network of blood vessels weaving through his body appears, and my practiced little skill doesn't need more than a few seconds to find those extremely interesting little veins and arteries that will now play such an important role in pleasing this big boy. And as the slow wave of my energy causes the blood to start flowing out of the sensitive body part, I direct my eyes with the keen attention of a snake in ambush on the man caught in my claws. I don't have to be disappointed, because even I can feel in my fingertips how the typical tingle that is so characteristic of malfunctioning circulation appears in his muscles. And this disturbs his self-absorbed intoxication just enough, because his eyebrows meet with such incomprehension, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep.

"What…. what's happening?” The disoriented question breaks out of him, and he fixes his gaze on me suspiciously, as if he would already start to suspect that he didn't quite get the entertainment he signed up for. And I no longer feel the need to continue my masterful performance, which he has so stupidly fallen victim to so far. And when the seductive mask slips off, and a cruel smile crosses my face in its place, I can almost see foreboding flashing into that weak mind of his.

"You may start to feel weird down here because I'm directing the blood out from your little friend." I note simply, as if I were stating a completely self-evident fact, and the stupid expression that appears on his face was worth all the pretense I had to show. His eyes widen almost comically, as he stares at his lap with such shocked dismay, as if he would hope that this moment will dissolve into the bizarre image of a terrible nightmare. But no. The mouth-watering feeling is very real, as after the blood slowly trickles away under my blessed ability, a numbness mixed with pain awakens in that tiny little tool of which he is so fucking proud.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He blurts out, and although he still wants to look very stern, I can hear his voice cracking with recognition. Now he can start to notice this unpleasant spasmodic feeling quite sharply, which arises as a result of my vile little activity, and which causes a dull ache to creep into his groin. And there is no more charming sight in the world than this stupid meathead sinking into despair. "Stop it, you sick bitch!" He snarls at me, emphasizing all his threatening aggression, but unfortunately, he doesn't seem dangerous as he begins to strain wildly against his unbreakable shackles. Because although he may be a Hunter, and he has increased strength and endurance, the chains prepared by my friends were invented for bad boys like him.

"Oh, what's wrong? I thought you wanted me to play with your dick..." I pout with fake sadness, cooing to him with such contemptuous disdain, as if I were just trying to reason with a hysterical child. And from the small tantrum he throws, which causes him to try to tear his hands out of the thick handcuffs amidst loud grunting, he seems no more than a overgrown baby. "Oh, my bad. I forgot to tell you that I like it rough." I spit, putting an edge imbued with caustic sarcasm in my voice, and there is nothing charming in that grin that flashes all my teeth, which I twist on my mouth.

He would try to speak, and maybe he would swear at me with some very macho harshness, but as I speed up the adventurous migration of blood from his cock with another burst of energy, a tortured moan erupts from his throat from the sharp pain that surely penetrates him by now. Small drops of cold sweat surface on his forehead, and I almost feel sorry for him from the look of terror on his face. But that's not enough. Because although he's slowly realizing what a sadistic little game I've lured him into, I still don't see the despair I'm looking for.

"Maybe I should make blood clots in your veins. You know what happens when a part of your body doesn't get blood, right? No nutrients, no oxygen..." I dwell on the endless possibilities, tilting my head curiously, and even he, with his small brain capacity, can understand what the consequences are when the tissues are left without blood supply. And, as he comprehends that neither his physical strength nor his ability to intimidate will get him out of this situation, then dread glides through his features with such a spectacular fastness that it's a joy to watch.

"Please don't..." He begins to plead, and the hoarseness that moves to his voice from the panic bubbling up in his throat is music to my ears. And when I see the first glistening pearls of tears in his eyes, the hatred burning in my stomach swells with contented joy, because the visceral desperation that takes shape on his face is quite wonderful. And the sugary-sweet smile that curls up the corners of my mouth at the sight of his misery may even seem sick, but this bastard deserves every moment of suffering, because there is so much pain stuck to his hands that no amount of shame and agony can wash away. And I'm not afraid to become ruthless and mean to help him taste what it's like to be truly defenseless and helpless.

"Oh, no, no, no! Don't cry! This is fun! It's like an experiment!" I lean closer to him, caressing his belly with mocking tenderness, and he jerks under my hand with reflexive speed from the delicate gesture. Shuddering, he tries to pull away from me, as if he wanted to merge with the back of the chair, but it's futile to think that he will be able to escape from this difficult situation. I enjoy it too much. "If we wait long enough, it will fall off! Or even start to rot! But don't worry, you'll still be able to get laid! Maybe you'll be able to fuck yourself with your own dick!" I continue my musing with unhinged glee, watching as his teeth clench with painful force, as his sanity and self-respect clash for dominance. And when a choking sound escapes from him, with which he tries to stifle the silent sobs shaking his chest, then I know I've broken him.

"Please, please... I'll do anything, just don't..." He whimpers, and a thick vein on his neck pops out from the effort he uses to force these pathetic words out of himself. I know he'd rather bite his own tongue for stooping so low, but he is just the kind of cretin that can be led on by a trick like that. He gets rid of every ounce of self-esteem in an instant with his plea, no doubt hoping that a pretty woman like me might have enough compassion to take pity on him. But he picked a fight with the wrong person. Because the circle of those who can create such tender feelings in me is very narrow. And of course, nasty pests are not among them.

"If you want me to stop, then start talking." I willingly offer him the obvious solution, and when he looks at me wild with desperation, I can see the long series of thoughts going through his head, with which he tries to process what I'm asking of him. And there can definitely be important information in that ugly little head of his, if even when he is up to his neck in a stinking pile of shit, he vacillates about whether to share it with us. "Because the clock is ticking." I remind him, imitating the rhythmic clicking of the hands of the clock with my index finger, and I can feel him twitch with increasing tension under my hands with each small tap. A suffocating minute passes as I stare unblinkingly at him and drum with unbroken enthusiasm on his bruised stomach, sending the blood further and further away from his jewels with each movement. And now the tears are starting to flow in rich streams on his face, which is almost purple in color, mixing with the sweat, which is slowly covering every inch of his skin from the pain caused by my little game.

"I don't have the serum!" He finally surrenders, almost shouting his confession, as his mouth opens wide with a tortured whimper, when I continue my treacherous little activity just to be sure. "I sold it to a guy named Rat! He has his network in Colony No. 2, he said he'll hand it over to his customer there!" He spills the info eagerly, and even though every word is raspy with the aching pulsing with even force in his lap, the obedience with which he surrenders to my will is music to my ears. And suddenly I'm filled with intense pride from the knowledge that I could be of such great help to my friends who are shrouded in eerie silence leaning against the wall, and that I got the information out of this asshole that had become our prey, which they didn't manage to beat out of him. Each vermin requires a different approach, it seems. And I'm lucky that not a prouder and smarter person is the head of Vultures, because it wouldn't have been possible to back anyone other than him into a corner so easily by threatening to make his junk fall off.  

"There you go! It wasn't that hard, was it?" I pull my hands out from under the sweat-soaked textile, patting his thigh with such belittling tenderness, as if I wanted to praise a dog that performed a clever trick. And the relieved sigh with which he finally calms down a bit is quite sweet, and as soon as a breath of his confidence returns him, and he fixes his eyes on me expectantly, then I simply push myself away from him to stand up, turning my back on him to head for the interrogator's door without any further discussion. And now, for the first time, my undivided attention is diverted from my prey long enough for me to catch the expression on my companions' faces, and from the way MacTavish's brows furrow in bewilderment and dread, I have to forcefully suppress the outline of a cheeky smile that wants to curve at the corner of my mouth. I forgot that even though I had already entertained Riley with my slyness, the Scotsman hadn't yet had the chance to witness my questionable tactics.

"Hey! What are you doing? You said you would stop!" The leader of the separatists finally comes to his senses, and I just glance at him over my shoulder. And although I know that the trauma of the two Healers won't be nullified by my little revenge, it cannot be denied that the stunned distress with which he gapes at me, dispels the anger gnawing at my insides. And I wish that the two of them could see how deep a hole such a freak can crawl into, if sufficient methods are used to help him back to the edge of the abyss. But maybe it will give them a little joy to know that the bastard, who so indulgently laid his filthy hands on them in every way imaginable, will be forced to live out the rest of his pathetic life with his dick rotting away like a useless leather hose in his pants.

"It's a shame that I'm a filthy liar." I shrug my shoulders with noble simplicity, telling him with every inch of me that this is no longer my problem. And from my periphery, I can clearly see how my masked companion coks his head to the side in interest, and as our eyes meet, I see the dark little sparks in them when he realizes how freely I used the strategy that he presented to me so kindly during Valeria's interrogation. I've learned from the best.

"You dirty little bitch! Once I get my hands on you, I'll gut you! Do you hear me?!" The criminal indulges in his scary threats, and every muscle in his face tenses with rage as he spits his curses at me. And when I only raise my head with a pitying look, he loses himself in his rampage with such vigor that the chair he was enslaved to begins to shake amidst wild creaking. But no matter how hard he struggles, no matter how hard he tries to tear his hands from the chains, a D-class fool is unable to perform the same magic tricks my friends can do. Because my Scottish friend and his bosom friend would have already folded bows out of the metal by now. How utterly sad.

However, it seems that our new helper gets bored much sooner with this ridiculous interlude, in which our prisoner sinks more and more violently by the minute, because König appears in front of him so quickly, and grabs the separatist leader's throat without any warning, that every sound of his angry protest boils in his throat in a second. And he doesn't even have time to react, for the Hunter lifts the guy up by the neck along with the chair to then throw him to the ground, and as he lands on the floor of the container, the chair breaks into pieces with a tortured crash. And even before the outlaw could collect the thoughts of opposition in his brain, dulled by surprise and pain, his attacker makes sure that he stays where he had so kindly laid him down.

König's foot chruses on his victim's chest like a press, and an interesting hissing sound leaves the throat of the man lying among the pieces of broken furniture, as his mouth slowly opens to shout, but only a forced groan comes out. And although from the hooded Hunter's perspective, it all seems nothing more than when someone methodically tramples on a bug, I know how much strength it takes to coax this sick sound out of someone. The morbid sight lasts just a second longer than it should, just long enough for the halfwit writhing on the ground to feel how fleeting and senseless end his life has came to. And it occurs to me that there is no hesitation in this, only pure cruel pleasure, because as the protective wall of our prisoner's ribcage gives way with a sudden crackle under the heavy boot, even though his face is covered by the loose fabric, I see the satisfaction flash in the cold blue eyes, with which he watches the foamy path of the blood gushing from the lips of his prey stretched out in the dirt.

And I know that I'm not imagining those cheerful little wrinkles that appear around the skin covered in dark paint, as he turns towards me, towering above the now motionless dead body, and our gaze intertwines. And because of this, the restless voice in my head warns me to be careful in a tenth of a second, because I can't think of a good explanation for why I discover the invisible line of a smile around his eyes emerging from under the textile. What the hell?

[princessconsuela120]

Chapter Eight: Rubble to Rubble

—✧

Series masterlist

Chapter Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, cursing

Authors Note: Enjoy these next few chapters you guys🫣 shits getting real now.

Chapter art by @silvell

—✧

“Where the hell you been, Junebug?” My dad asked, getting up with concern as I walked in the door.

“Oh, I just drove to Denver to show Mark and Vanessa the ultrasound. I ended up staying a couple hours.” I explained, shrugging my shoulders as I tried to keep going upstairs, but my dad stopped me.

“A couple hours? Why are you going there in the first place?” He asked angrily, causing me to look back at him confused.

“Oh, well, they wanted to know about the stuff… And I said I'd keep them updated, so I did.”

“You could have mailed it to them. Why would you drive an hour out to East Jesus, Nowhere?” He lectured, making me even more confused.

“I just did. You know, and while Mark and I were waiting for Vanessa… We watched Ghost… And then he burned me a couple of CD's of this weird music, so…It was cool. He's kind of cool.” My dad shook his head at me.

“Juno, you can't just drop in on them like that.”

“No, it was not a big deal. He was totally cool with it.” I said to calm him down, though it didn’t work much.

“You don't understand. Mark is a married man. There are boundaries.” He explained, and I scoffed at him.

“Oh, come on. Listen, Dad. Now, you're acting like you're the one who has to go through this. Like you have to get huge and shove a baby out of your vag for someone else. What does it matter if he's married? I can have married friends.” I grabbed my car keys from my pocket, slamming them on the table infront of my dad, knocking over the jar of weed he had been putting together.

“It doesn't work that way, honey. You don't know squat about the dynamics of marriage.” He yelled back, glaring at me as he put the bids back in the jar.

“You don't know anything about me.” I snapped at him. It was safe to say I got easily defensive with my dad. He was gone for most of my life, why should I let him affect me. Well, he wasn’t home, he was still there, slowly making everything worse for Stan Shelley and I. And my mom too. I know he was trying, but it takes a lot of hard work to fix that.

“I know enough.”

“We don't even sell at the farm anymore.” I teased, making him roll his eyes.

“We don't sell anymore because you and your siblings had to be little babies about it and complain to mom! When you guys move out I’m gonna be so rich, I’m gonna buy a parakeet.” He explained, ignoring me as he focused on making his jar look good.

“Whoa, dream big.” I remarked, heading up to my room as he shouted after me.

“Oh, go fly a kite.”

—✧

IT WAS STRANGE COMING BACK TO THE BROFLOVSKI HOUSE. Kyle and I had agreed that we weren’t telling his family about the baby, there was no need to stress them out if the baby was going to someone else anyway. I missed coming here. It was right next door, it was always the house I’d look at on my way to the garage, look at with hope. Back before we understood what anything was, when I’d sit on our ‘throne’ as Stan and Kyle worked to build our elven kingdom. Kyle and I getting married in the highest point of the tree house with ring pops so that we could rule our kingdom together. It was all so innocent back then. I collected myself, taking a breath before knocking.

“Hi, Juno. What can I do for you?” Sheila Broflovski asked, smiling happily as she answered the door.

“Kyle home?” I asked, smiling back.

Kyle’s mom was possibly attractive once, but now she looks mostly like you’d expect a mom to look. I’m sure his dad was head over heels, I don’t know maybe Jersey people were his thing. I didn’t mind though, I’d always thought of Mrs Broflovski like my second mom. She would always treat me as such. Making sure I had extra sunscreen at the beach, helping me learn to ski, making cookies every time I came over.

“Hey, man. Don't concentrate so hard. I think I can smell your hair burning.” I teased, seeing Kyle leaning against his bed with his homework binder in his lap. I swore his face must’ve lit up the room when his eyes met mine, jumping from his seat as he stood to come help me walk over.

“Hey, what's up?” He said cheerfully, grabbing my arms to help me come sit down in the beanbag chair from across from where he had been sitting.

“Not much. I just wanted to come say hey. I mean, I miss, like, just hanging out with you on school nights, you know?” I said, which caused Kyle to smile even more, his face softening of it even could more than it was. He pour a few to face into his hand, plopping them in his mouth before looking back at me. Orange tic tacs are Kyle’s one and only vice. The day I got pregnant, his mouth tasted really tangy and delicious.

“Wow, you really… You really seem to be getting pregnanter these days.” He said, chuckling slightly as I laughed along.

“You know, I set up this whole private adoption. And this married couple in, like, Denver, they're gonna be the parents.”

I couldn’t explaine it really, the way his face seemed to drop the slightest bit when I mentioned that. That the fact we weren’t gonna keep it, disappointed him. I didn’t know why. We were 17, you’d assume it would hurt us more to have to keep it. But it didn’t. And I think I understand. Something that would connect the both of us forever, gone. I guess that stings.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, what are they like?” He asked, and I sighed, laying back slightly.

“Well, I mean, the guy, he's awesome. His name's Mark, and he likes old movies and he plays the guitar. We actually hung out this afternoon.” I explained, causing Kyle to look at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Is that normal?” He asked in response, making me shrug.

“Probably not, but…Listen, I talked to my mom and dad...And they said they wouldn't narc you out to your folks...So I think we should be cool, you know?” He smiled, but it wasn’t a Kyle smile, more like the smile you give someone to get them to stop talking. More just pressing your lips together and trying to smile but you couldn’t.

“That's a relief. How pissed was Stan?” He asked, now frowning as he mentioned Stan. As much as Stan was my twin brother, he was Kyle’s best friend. I know he hadn’t spoken to him since he found out, and it stressed Kyle out to no end. He knew I had told him, he knew it would come out eventually. It just broke his heart a little to know that his best friend felt that betrayal from him.

“He was, pissed. I think now he’s just mostly afraid you’ll never talk to him again for being a dick.” I explained, chuckling slightly at the dramatics my brother showcased.

“He wasn’t a dick, he was just mad.” Kyle said, making me nod sun agreement.

“That’s what I said.”

“I just miss him, you know?” He said quietly, causing a thick silence to fill the room. It was a weird feeling, kinda like when I told him I was pregnant. It felt empty, painfully empty.

“Yeah, yeah I get that. You know, I'm gonna… Start looking like a pretty big dork soon, so…” I explained, making him chuckle.

“You always look like a dork Jo.” He interrupted, causing me to roll my eyes, shoving him teasingly as he laughed.

“Oh shush. Are um, are you still gonna think I'm cute when I'm huge?” I asked, looking up at him as a light blush covered my cheeks.

“I always think you're cute. I think you're beautiful.” He replied quickly, not even taking a moment to think about his answer. My face turned an even brighter red.

“Jeez, Kyle.” I couldn’t help the nervous laugh that left my mouth when I replied.

“Well, I do. Hey, Jo, when this is all over, we should get the group back together.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, that would be awesome.”

I hadn’t hung out with the boys all together much since everything went down. It was awkward, I really only had been with Craig and Kenny through it all. Hell I hadn’t seen Butters in weeks.

“I mean, once Cartman goes back on his meds…” Kyle continued, making me nod. I hadn’t seen Cartman in weeks, I didn’t even know he was refusing to take his meds again.

“We're just, like, ready to rumble.” I said, and Kyle sighed, as if he were preparing himself to speak.

“And I mean, we could always get back together too. That's an option.” He looked down at the ground as if he was trying to avoid my eye contact, and I gave him a confused look.

“Were we together?” I asked, making Kyle look back up at me, nodding awkwardly.

“Yeah, we were once, you know? That time.” He explained, forming a new awkward silence between the two of us.

“What about Rebecca Cotswolds? You could totally go out with Rebecca Cotswolds.” I offered, trying to change the subject. He furrowed his eyebrows at me at the mention of the girl. She joined our school in freshman year, though we had know her since fourth grade due to the spelling bee. Even then everyone thought she was sort of strange, she didn’t communicate the same way due to being homeschooled. The entire time Cartman teased Kyle for being “in love with her” because he talked to her so much. It was Stan who found out the reason he talked to her was to learn more about girl, so he could talk more to me.

“I don't like Rebecca. She smells like soup. I mean, have you ever smelled her? And her whole house smells like soup.” Kyle explained, shaking his head with defiance. He let out a low sigh, looking down at the ground to avoid the awkward situation. I couldn’t help but feel my heart pang at the sight. This was different, it was weird.

—✧

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

So this is the first chapter, not sure how many it’ll be, but I thought I’d show it since it was requested haha. I’m going to call this “The Colors of Yesterday” whenever I post it to ao3.

@rottmnt-background-screenshots

@daboyau In case you want to read it here!

“Aniki! Aniiiikiii! Wake up!”

Leo blearily opens his eyes. His brain doesn’t understand the first two words he heard at first. It slowly dawns on him that it’s Japanese. Then, somehow, something in the back of his mind tells him what it’s a word just for him.

Big brother.

There’s nothing but open sky and a tree in his view until he looks to the side. A child in a red kimono pulling on his own blue kimono sleeve.

“The sun is already more than risen! You promised that we’d train!” She pouts.

There’s a white, catlike mask with red accents over half her face.

Leo doesn’t know her in the slightest, but his brain assures him he does.

“You’re in too much of a rush. Why don’t you sleep a little more? Come here, your brother is the best pillow in the city.” He pulls his sleeve out of her hand and pats his chest.

He doesn’t recognize his own voice.

His hand is big, and definitely not green.

There’s more of a pout from the girl.

“Aoi! You promised!”

Aoi?

Blue, his brain supplies.

That’s not his name.

“Alright, alright.” He stands up and holds out his hand.

“I’m not a baby. We’re only walking a few feet.”

“I’m a huge baby. I need you to hold my hand or I might cry and then we’ll never get there.”

“Hmph. You’re lucky that I’m around then.” She quickly takes his hand.

He remembers this, he used the same trick on Mikey when he hit his “I’m a big kid now” phase.

They walk through a field, he can almost feel the way he squeezes her hand. Once past it, they’re at the entrance of a forest.

“You remember the rules?”

She nods.

“Then go. I won’t go easy on you since you woke me up.”

She smiles and puts on her mask, running off into the forest.

“Ichi….ni…..san….” He yawns as he counts, eventually getting to 10.

He enters the forest, smiling as he moves past trees and bushes.

He knows there’s no danger. They’ve done this before.

However, as he checks what are apparently the usual spots, his stomach begins to drop.

He tells himself it’s too early to panic and continues his search.

When the girl is nowhere in sight despite searching the area she always promised to stay in, it is now exactly the time to panic.

“Tora! The game is over! You’ve won! You can come out now!”

Silence.

Deafening silence.

He begins running and yelling.

He yells louder and louder, desperate.

It still continues even after sitting up in his bed.

The only thing that stops it is the realization that he’s not there. He’s in his room where he fell asleep not too long ago.

Yet, he’s still looking for someone.

He nearly falls out of bed rushing to leave his room.

His feet carry him before he can even begin to think about where to go.

Eventually, he’s standing in front of Raph’s room.

Despite the girl in his dream also wearing red he’s not sure exactly why he decided to come here.

Still, he quietly slides open the train car door.

Raph is sleeping, his arms wrapped tight around a teddy bear.

He almost seemed to do so tensely.

Leo closes the door behind him and carefully approaches the bed.

It takes some maneuvering, but the bear finally leaves Raph’s arms and Leo replaces it.

He’s no longer on edge. He found what, who, he was looking for.

Raph tenses a little less and squeezes him in his sleep.

Leo falls back into slumber with that reassurance.

Back into the dream.

“Tora! I told you never to go this far!”

Relief flooded his senses.

The girl was in his arms, safe and sound.

“There were other people in the forest today, I followed them but they ran.”

“You should have just told me! We don’t need to go after them. Let’s head back to the village and buy some breakfast.” He let’s go of her then pulls her onto his back.

She wraps her arms around his neck and leans on his head.

He’s glad she isn’t refusing for once.

After a mildly long walk, they’re in the village and passing by several stalls selling food.

He catches her staring pretty hard at the watermelon so that’s what he ends up buying.

They sit together and eat.

He looks over at her and ruffles her short, dark hair.

She pouts back up at him, causing him to laugh.

There’s a warm, content feeling despite her annoyed face.

He’s glad to not have a piece of him missing.

“Leo? Hey buddy, it’s time to wake up.”

He opens his eyes once again.

“Imōto….?”

Raph blinks in surprise. It almost seems like he knows what he’s talking about but just shakes his head instead.

“You’re still half asleep. Let’s get ya to the kitchen.”

Leo gets lifted up from the bed.

“Aren’t I supposed to carry you?”

Raph laughs.

“You’re awake enough to joke like that? No way is anybody carrying me around.”

He takes Leo with him to the counter and places him in a chair.

Raph then head towards the fridge and opens it to grab several ingredients.

“So….do ya wanna talk about what made ya jump into my bed?” He started cooking.

Leo looks down at his hands, taking in the fact that this is what they’re really supposed to look like.

“I….had some really weird dreams.”

“Is it the krang again?”

He shakes his head.

“Way different. It was about you and me but at the same time not us? You were a girl.”

Raph tenses.

“A girl named Tora?”

Leo’s eyes widen.

“You’ve been having the same dreams!?”

“I wasn’t sure what they were. They were kinda different from just regular dreams.”

“Exactly! That’s how I feel! It was….seriously weird. How long have you had them?”

“Since uh….we first fully unlocked our ninpo.” He flips the bacon on the pan.

“What!? That long!? Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I didn’t know what was happenin! It wasn’t a lot and it wasn’t every night either. Just bits and pieces…..until…” He trails off as he finishes cooking.

“Until?”

“Last night. It was a lot more of everything. It’s like I could taste that watermelon….”

Leo slams his hands onto the table.

“That’s what was happening in my dream!”

Raph serves the food and sits down next to him.

“Are you thinkin we shared a dream after you took Dr. Cuddlestein’s place?”

“That’s definitely what happened!” Leo insists as he takes the plate he was brought.

“We can tell Donnie and Mikey about it after breakfast. I bet Donnie will have some kinda test he can run.”

Leo nods and starts eating.

After the remaining two brothers join them and everyone is finished eating, they get informed about the dreams.

“While this does sound mystic, I do want to give science a chance! Tonight we shall all sleep in Raph’s room and try to recreate the environment it happened in.” Donnie rubs his hands together in excitement.

“Ah yeah baby! Sleepover time!” Mikey cheers.

That night, Donnie sets up monitors, attached sensors to himself and everyone else, and has a device record the room as they all lay together.

“Okay, everybody nice and comfy?”

The three of them nod in response to Raph’s question.

“Alright, goodnight!” He turns out the light and closes his eyes.

The darkness of sleep fades into green. There’s trees all around him. He’s back in the forest.

Or, Tora is back at the forest.

No matter how many of the bits and pieces dreams he had it was always disorienting.

Especially now that it was more cohesive.

He looks down, seeing that he’s taken off his shoes to stand in a stream. He looks behind him and sees Aoi is sitting on the bank instead with his feet in the water. His pants are rolled up.

“Something wrong, Tora?” He smiles at her.

“I think I hear someone.”

His smile drops and he carefully listens to their surroundings.

They both hear a faint scream.

Aoi scoops Tora and takes off running with her.

Raph wonders if this is really how it feels when he picks up everyone else.

They eventually reach a much deeper part of the stream.

There’s two boys in there, one in a purple yukata and one in orange. They’re both hanging onto a rock, but the one in purple is holding tightly onto the collar of the one in orange.

Aoi quickly sets Tora down.

“Help me find the longest branch you can get!”

Tora nods and rushes off to get it. Aoi looks as well, but Tora is the one to drag a branch she can hardly carry to him. He quickly grabs it from her and goes to the bank, holding it out to them.

“Hurry!”

The boy in purple lifts up the boy in orange as best he can.

“Tomo, I can’t just leave you-!”

“You can’t swim! Take it now!”

The boy in orange looks upset but holds on tightly to the branch.

Aoi pulls him in, almost flinging him as he tried to do it as fast possible.

Tora attends to the boy as Aoi reaches the branch out again.

Tomo stretches his arm, but loses the grip he had on the rock with his other arm. He gets swept away into the water.

“NO! Please! Tomo!!” The boy in orange cries.

Aoi doesn’t hesitate and jumps into the stream after him.

Raph feels the absolute panic from Tora. She and the boy run along the bank to keep up with them.

Tomo seems to be a strong swimmer, but the current is too much for him.

Aoi does his best to get to him but it’s looking impossible.

Then, Aoi rips fabric from his Yukata and tosses the end to Tomo.

He grabs it and Aoi turns around, swimming against the stream. He’s able to keep them both in place, but they both know it won’t last long.

“We have to do something!” Tora shouts.

“What can we do!?” The boy in orange shouts back.

Tora looks around and soon runs over to a nearby boulder. She tries hard to push it but it won’t budge. Raph isn’t used to not being strong enough.

The boy in orange joins her, and finally it begins to roll. After a lot of effort it goes right off the edge and close to where Aoi is swimming.

He’s able to swim just enough to pull himself up onto the rock, then also pulls Tomo on with him.

The two of them pant heavily from exhaustion.

The boy in orange falls to his hands and knees and sobs in relief.

Tora sits down as well. Her arms hurt already from the strain. At the same time, Raph felt an immense sense of accomplishment as her. Like this was the first ever time he had was able to help his brother. It was a weird feeling.

After everyone rested, Aoi got himself and Tomo back onto dry land.

“Tomo!!” The boy on orange nearly tackles him in a hug.

Tomo pats his head.

“Honestly otōto, what am I going to do with you?”

Tora takes a better look at them and then tugs on Aoi’s sleeve. He leans down to her but she also goes on her tippy toes.

Raph wonders if this is how Mikey feels.

“Aniki. They’re the people I saw before.”

Aoi’s eyes widen and he nods before he stands up straight again.

“How did you fall into the stream?”

“We were trying to fish when the ground gave way.” Tomo answers.

“Why were you fishing alone?”

Tomo glances away.

“I wasn’t alone. We were together.”

“Without an adult I mean.”

“Why are you without an adult?”

“We don’t have an adult.”

“Aoi is the only person who takes care of me.” Tora comments.

Tomo breathes a sigh of relief.

“We left the orphanage together. I thought you might rat us out. I guess not.”

“No way, Tora and I did the same actually. She’s my precious little sister.”

“You may have already guessed, but I’m Tomo, and this is Kosuke.”

“Tomo…..that means twin. Are you one?”

He looks down at the ground.

“I was. Now it’s just me and Kosuke.”

Aoi thinks for a moment.

“Do you know what kenzoku means?”

Tomo shakes his head.

“It’s family, but it’s people who go through the same things together. We can all be siblings!” Aoi smiles.

“You want to….team up?”

“I want us to be a family. How old are you?”

“10. Kosuke is 9.”

“I’m 10 too! Tora is 8. We’re all the perfect ages!”

Tora crosses her arms.

“In the next life, I want to be the biggest.”

“In the next life?” Kosuke questions.

“Tora likes talking about reincarnation. I think she’ll be a bug, though.”

Tora smacks his arm and Aoi chuckles.

“….Kosuke, what do you think?” Tomo looks down at him.

“We might need help again in the future. It would be nice….”

Tomo nods and looks back at Tora and Aoi.

“Okay. We’ll stick together.”

Aoi smiles more.

“Get them.”

“Huh-!?”

He and Tora tackle the two of them in a hug. Tomo is angry first, but then calms down and chuckles softly. Everyone else laughs as well while in the hug pile on the ground.

Raph is still laughing as he wakes up, before he comes back to his senses.

To his surprise though, all his brothers were also laughing.

Not just Leo.

They also wound up in the same hug position as the dream.

This couldn’t be a coincidence anymore.

[elisysd]

46. I'll be late, but I could make it all up to you

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Haven - Novo Amor

When Julia had imagined Martin’s holiday rental, she had thought of a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Something cozy, something small. Not a gigantic villa with a pool and large windows that left very little intimacy. The ride from Maranello to the Como lake area had been peaceful, without much talking as she didn’t feel like entertaining a conversation and Martin didn’t seem to want it either. Entering in the Ferrari felt weird. She didn’t know if it was because she was in a Ferrari with someone else than her dad or because she was so used to ride with Ethan than being in a car with Martin felt like betraying him, but still, she wasn’t very comfortable, hence why she preferred to stay silent and enjoy the calm and folk music that was coming from the speakers.

When Martin parked in the huge driveway, Julia sighed. She didn’t know if it had been such a good idea. Isolating herself with Martin, out of all people, didn’t sit right with her. Sure, he had been clear to her that he was only offering her his friendship but, what if people were learning she was with him? What would they all say? She thought of Ethan and his reaction. How it would hurt him. How she was doing exactly what he feared her to do. And it was stupid. He was seeing other girls, he was back to his hook up era. Why couldn’t she be with other people too? He had no right to be mad. But even if she was trying to persuade herself, the vicious voice inside of her mind kept on repeating the word “traitor”. She contemplated the view in front of her, and the green of the trees that were protecting the villa. It was still a gated area and it reassured her a little about the privacy she still would get here. And it was only for a few days. She could do it. It would be fine.

“Julia? Are you alright?” asked Martin, opening her door and handing her the pair of crutches, her bag in his other hand.

“Yeah… I was just admiring the view.” she smiled, a little tight.

“It’s pretty, right? Wait until you see the view from the back of the house. You can see the lake and all, it’s gorgeous.”

She absent-mindedly nodded before taking her crutches and followed him inside the house. She had had a brief idea of how the inside looked based on the last facetime they had, a few weeks ago, but she never expected it to be this impressive. The ceilings were high  with exposed beams on them. It had a Scandinavian vibe that she liked and that felt homely and reassuring. Martin guided her to her room as she was still looking around. Her bedroom had an amazing view on the pool and she could see the valley underneath. A big king sized bed with white and fresh sheets was taking center stage against a wall in light in beige wood.

“You have your own bathroom with a bathtub and shower. Also the room has direct access to the patio. Lucky you.”

“Thank you.” she whispered, her hand slowly caressing the sheet.

“I'll let you settle down. If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen. Chicken breasts and vegetable mix for tonight if that’s okay with you?”

“It’s perfect.”

She rapidly emptied her bag before going to the bathroom for a quick shower. It had become a trial for her, to not soak too much of her casts and she couldn’t wait to finally get rid of them in a few days. She wanted to get back her mobility. It would be a long road to get it back fully but she would be working with Martin’s physiotherapist. She let the water cascading on her body as she was trying to support herself the best she could as she was doing her hair routine. Once she was finally done, she wrapped herself in the navy blue fleece-lined towel.

She was about to untangle her hair, when she felt herself slip on the tiled floor, regaining her balance just in time but still managing to drop a few things on the floor. She swore under her breath but the sound must have been loud enough to alert Martin that knocked on the door.

“Julia? Are you okay?” he asked, worried and faced with her silence, he added: “Can I come in?”

She unlocked the door and tightened the towel around her frame as she sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“I’m stupid. I can’t even do things by myself without causing a disaster.” she mumbled.

“You’re not stupid, you’re injured.” he scolded her, kneeling in front of her and forcing her to look at him.

“I feel useless. I can’t wait to get rid of those stupid casts! I want things to go back to normal.” she whispered, a lump in her throat.

“What things?”

“My wrist and my leg… Ethan and I… I feel stupid to miss him this much. I broke up with him! I shouldn’t feel this bad!”

“You didn’t break up with him because you were not in love anymore. You broke up with him precisely because you love him and you want this relationship to work and because you knew that it was not the right time. It’s brave.”

“I don’t feel brave.”

Martin sighed, understanding that it was no use to try to argue with her and helped her standing up to guide her to her bed. He came back to the bathroom to take her things and sit beside her, determined to untangle her hair. Slowly and delicately and brush each strand until he felt her relaxing and leaning against his chest.

“Do you feel better?” he broke the silence, his lips against the back of her head.

“A little. I’m sorry if I’m being a burden.”

“Julia, stop. I knew what I was getting into when I asked if you wanted to spend a few days here. It’s fine. And what are friends for if we can't be vulnerable to one another?”

He rubbed her shoulders before getting up and leaving the room to give her the space to change. Once in comfier clothes she went to the open kitchen to find him putting the plates on the table. Two glasses of red wine were next to the food that smelled amazing. Julia took place on a chair as he quickly followed her. Diving into the food, she couldn’t help but let out a moan.

“You didn’t tell me you were that good of a cook! That’s amazing.”

“I have many hidden talents. And I like to cook. It helps me relax.” he explained. “What about you?”

“I bake with my mom. It’s our thing. But beside that, I don’t really cook. I don’t really have the opportunity…”

“You know what we could do? I will prepare dinner and you will take care of the desert.”

“With my broken wrist and equally broken leg?” she arched an eyebrow.

“Why not?”

“That’s not very easy to do.” she mumbled.

“Okay, Julia, now you listen to me. I want you to stop finding excuses to flee situations. I want you to face them. You have difficulties standing and doing stuff? I’ll help you. You can lean on me. You can lean on anyone, we are all here for you. And I’m not talking about baking…” he looked at her dead in the eye.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn’t want to?”

“So you prefer wallowing in self-pity? Didn’t take you for a coward.”

“I’m not.”

“Prove it.” He challenged her.

She clenched her jaw, abruptly putting down her knife and her fork before slowly standing up, trying to find her balance without her crutches. She took her plate in one hand and limped to the sink, trying to hide the pain. She was about to put down the dishes when a sharp pain went through her leg forcing her to let everything fall to hold against the counter. Martin rushed to her side forcing her to sit down on the stool as she felt tears running down her cheeks.

“I… painkillers… in my toiletries…” she said, gritting through her teeth.

He left her quickly to come back almost as fast and poured her a glass of water before handing her the tablet and the drink. She took them and emptied her glass in one gulp.

“That’s exactly what I was trying to tell you, Julia. You don’t have to go through things alone.”

She looked at him in the eyes and saw in the green orbs a calmness and a serenity that appeased her almost immediately. She slightly nodded as he helped her getting back on her feet and supported her when he saw her wince. That night, alone in her bed, her mind din’t go straight to Ethan for the first time in two weeks.

She woke up the next day, feeling rested. She quickly dressed before heading to the kitchen to find pancakes and freshly pressed orange juice as well as a note explaining to her how the coffee machine was working. Martin was nowhere to be found which gave her the time to explore the house a little bit more. He had a home cinema and even an arcade room. Julia wondered why he would need all of this for him to be all alone and no even planning to invite friends here. Once her exploration over, she went back to her room to pick up her drawing book and a bunch of pencils and used her private access to the backyard. The pool seemed really nice, it was shame she couldn’t go in there. She sat on one of the lounge chairs and started to draw what was in front of her eyes until a silhouette appeared in her field of vision. She gulped when she noticed Martin’s sweaty and bare chest. He really was a nice specimen she had to admit and almost immediately she felt guilty to even have the thought. When he saw her, he jogged until reaching her side and sat down, out of breath.

“Glad to see you up and outside. You definitely needed some vitamin D.”

“Say that I look pale while you’re at it.” she said, throwing her pencil at him, which he caught easily.

“I mean, you do look like someone who has not seen the light of the day for weeks.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault. Even if I would spend all my days outside I would still be pale. My skin becomes sunburned easily but the sunburn doesn’t turn into a nice tan. That’s genetics. Look at my dad.”

“Have you ever considered self tan?”

“No! Have you seen the amount of chemicals they use in them? Thanks but no thanks.”

It made Martin laugh and Julia looked at him, puzzled.

“I’m glad to hear you talk like that. I missed fiery Julia.” he confessed.

“I missed her too. But you know, I think she starts to come back. A little.” she said, looking at the ground.

“I’m going to get myself something to drink, do you want something?”

“I’l take the same as you.” she said, going back to her drawing.

He quickly came back with two glasses of sparkling water, before taking his place next to her. She felt his eyes wander on the drawing but he didn’t say anything, letting her lose herself in the curves and lines that she was creating.

“I didn’t know you were drawing.” he ended up saying when she put her pencil down.

“It’s an escape. Whenever I don’t feel good or I feel like my brain is going to explode, I draw. It had been a while since my pen touched a sheet, I have to admit.”

“Will you let me have a look at them or are they too personal?”

“They are not. It’s mostly landscapes and by the way, you were right, I love this place. It’s exactly what I needed.” she said while handing him the notebooks.He flipped some pages until he stopped right in the middle.

“Are these Ethan’s eyes?” he asked showing her the page where multiple eyes were displaying in every corner of the page.

“I mean… yeah. I think I started to draw them around Singapore… I think it was my mind telling me that I was really falling deep for him.”

“Weren’t you already?”

That’s when Julia realised that he was not aware of the PR stunt. She didn’t know if she could say something or if she should still keep it to herself. But after all, why bother keeping it a secret? It was over, anyway.

“Can I tell you a secret? That you must not repeat to anyone.”

“You scare me, Juls… but yeah, of course.”

“Well… at the very beginning, Ethan and I we were not really a couple. I agreed to fake date him to save his ass. But along the way, towards Singapore I think, something changed. I don’t know what exactly, we just grew closer I guess. Anyway… those eyes were my brain telling me to realise that I was falling. I stupidly ignored it and we are in this mess now.”

“So when I was saying at the beginning that you guys didn’t look in love or were not acting like a couple….”

“You were right.”

“Okay… And I think you’re right when you said that something changed towards Singapore. I noticed the way you were acting with him, how you looked at him, there was a twinkle in your eyes that were not there before.”

“A twinkle in my eye? Really?” she laughed.

“I’m serious. It’s when you talk about things you are passionate about. Most of the time, it’s Ferrari and engineering, but it was also there when Ethan was around.”

“Yeah, was…” she repeated, sadly.

“I don’t want to see you sad.”

“I’m not. that’s the thing… I’m not sad. Or I am, but it’s not what comes first to me when I think about Ethan. I feel frustration, anger, guilt, disappointment but not really sadness. And the sadness I feel is more because I’m sad that I’ll never know what we could have been, not sad about what we had. I’m grateful for that actually because despite everything he helped me knowing who I wanted to be. Now it’s up to me to become what I want to be. Do I make sense?”

“That’s very mature. It took me almost a year to not totally feel the sadness.”

“That’s different. You were grieving.”

“I still do. There is not a day that passes when I don’t look at that ring or when I don’t think about her. You know, I didn’t even celebrate my win in Buenos Aires. I went straight to my hotel room and called her parents. They were so proud. And we cried.”

“I don’t want to sound insensitive or anything but, don’t you think that keeping the ring you were going to propose to her with is unhealthy?”

“I know it is. But I’m not ready to say goodbye, yet. I know I should, that’s what her parents tell me. I should find another girl, I should be happy. I should allow myself to be happy. But I still feel like it’s betraying her.” he explained.

“And me? When you were flirting with me? What was the goal?” she asked, a bit confused.

“I…. I was so drawn to you and you were the first girl with who I thought that maybe I could fall in love again and be happy. I don’t know why it was you. There is something that I can’t pinpoint exactly that reminded me of her. Your laugh for example, she had the same one. And… and you kind of look alike. I swear when I saw you in the paddock for the first time this year, I thought I was seeing a ghost. And then I understood that Ethan was your everything and that I would never stand a chance and I decided it was for the best to let you be happy with him.”

“Is that why you asked me to stop using you to make him jealous?”

“Yeah. It hurt. You remind me so much of her that seeing you happy with someone else seemed like loosing Cecile twice and it’s something that was hard for me to come to terms with.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think I was hurting you that much.”

“You didn’t know.”

“But now that Ethan is not here anymore, would you try something?” She didn’t want a relationship with Martin but she needed to know if she could trust his friendship.

“Listen, Julia. You just got out of a relationship with a guy that you genuinely loved and still do. You are injured and emotionally unstable. You’re not ready for a relationship. With anyone. You need time to heal, physically and mentally. And I told you that I wanted to help you. As a friend, nothing more. But, I would also be lying if I was saying that the feelings I have for you are gone. I won’t act on them. But, if one day, you discover that you reciprocate them….I don’t know, I think we could give us a chance. Because I think we could work out. I could make you feel safe. But that’s just hypothetical. We’re not there yet, if we ever get there. For now, we’re friends and I intend to be a good friend to you so, get your ass out of that chair and let’s go grab a bite.”

“I appreciate you being honest with me.”

The next day was spent bathing under the sun, in peace while Martin was working out near her in the morning and board games and movies the afternoon. She learned that he was a sore looser, just like Ethan and it made her laugh. Drivers were all the same, she thought to herself. She also picked up that he was a fan of thrillers whether it was books or movies. He would have studied psychology if racing hadn’t work out. He could also spent hours talking about his sister, Georgia. She was the same age as Louis and was into photography and poetry. Julia believed she might have seen a brief veil of sadness passing through his eyes and when she asked him, he simply answered, a little defensive, that he missed her dearly. She knew the feeling all too well and her mind drifted to her own brother. She had barely seen him these past few weeks, too caught up in her pain and regrets. And seeing Martin talking about Georgia with so much loved made her realise that it was time for her to stop wallowing in self-pity and get back to her old life. She apologised, telling him she would meet him later for dinner and isolated herself in her room. She laid down on her bed before calling Louis.

“Hey, munchkin…” she said when he picked up the call.

“Julia! Mom, Julia is calling me!”

“I missed you, I wanted to hear your voice.”

“When are you coming back home? I wanted to hang out with you and Ethan. He wants to bring me to the aquarium and on his boat! He showed me pictures, it looks so awesome! And I started to study what kind of fish we had in the Mediterranean! I’m so excited. He wanted to go today but I said I wanted you to come with us.”

“Louis… you know that Ethan and I, we are not together anymore…”

“But… he said you were still friends! And friends hang out together. Please, Julia!”

“I have a doctor appointment to remove the casts and soon after I’ll start the physiotherapy… I’m not sure I can make it.”

She heard the deafening silence on the other end of the line. She knew she had hurt him, she didn’t need to hear his voice to feel it.

“But… if it is so important for you, maybe I can come with you on the boat.”

“Okay… I’ll tell Ethan, then. He misses you, you know.”

“I miss him too but, it’s better this way.”

“So… I can tell him you are fine with the boat, right?”

“Yeah, you can… do you talk a lot to Ethan?” she asked him.

“Every day. Almost. It’s him who called me first, though. He wanted to know if i hated him because of what he had done in Canada to Martin. And I said that I didn’t because even if he did it on purpose, and it’s bad, Martin is alive, he walked out of the car so it meant that he was okay. And then he asked if I still wanted to be his friend and I said yes, because he is nice and he doesn’t treat my differently because I’m autistic. I don’t have a lot of friend, I want to keep Ethan… are you mad at me?”

“Of course not! I’m glad you have someone you can talk to even if it’s Ethan. I know he likes you a lot too.”

“He told me he was sad, you know. And I said you were too, because you didn’t get out of your room and you ignored me a little. And I know it means you’re sad because you are always the first one to talk to me when you’re at home and then you didn’t after you came back from the hospital.”

“I am still sad, you know. But I’m getting better. A little.”

“Dad said you were with Martin, is it because of him you are getting better?”

“He helps me getting out of my own head.”

“Okay… Does it mean that now you will be with Martin instead of Ethan?”

“What? Why would I?”

“I don’t know… You said he was helping you and because of him you get better…”

“It doesn’t mean that he will replace Ethan. Martin is my friend.”

“But he is a guy.”

“Girls and boys can be friends, you know.” she explained slowly. “So… when will be the boat ride?”

“I have to give Ethan a phone call, first but I’ll tell you when you’ll come back! When is it?”

“The day after tomorrow. I have my appointment in the afternoon and then I’ll be all yours, I promise.”

“Great! Does it mean we can go to a restaurant with mom and dad when you’ll be back?”

“If you want.”

“Can I invite Ethan?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea… I doubt he will say yes and I doubt mom and dad want him around.” she slowly said.

“You’re all mean to him. You always say that we have to be nice to people that have a good heart but then you are all mean to him. I don’t understand.”

Julia didn’t have the time to reply that he had already hung up. She sighed and closed her eyes. That was something she was dreading. The moment when Ethan and her would part ways. Louis was so attached to Ethan and even if Julia was grateful to know that not being together anymore didn’t mean for Ethan to abandon Louis, a part of her ached to know that it would inevitably lead to awkward situation, at least until they both had grieved their relationship. She didn’t doubt that at some point she would be able to be friends with Ethan but for now, it was tough and something she wasn’t strong enough to do.

Author's note: Merry Christmas everyone. Here's a new chapter to celebrate. What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[triviadimplesblog]

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Chibs Telford x OC Brianne O'Connor

Warnings: mentions of blood and guns

The Crimson Horizon masterlist

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Chapter Three

Chibs entered the Chapel and took his place at the table. It was oddly quiet, usually the boys would be messing around and such. Chibs was blaming the late hours and the fact that everyone is sleepy and tired. Clay, Jax and Juice were brought up to speed by Bobby and Tig and everyone was trying to figure out what had hapened. They had no idea who those Latinos were and the boys couldn't have a good look at them either because of the other circumstances they were in.

„What are we thinking? Mayans?“ Clay broke the silence finally. They were all tired and needed a good nights sleep on this, but neither one of the men could sleep after the events that took place. If these were Mayans, it meant war and they couldn't afford a war now.

„They didn't wear leather, Clay.“ Tig pointed out. The five men who attacked them didn't wear kuttes like the Sons did. So either they were some random bastards or they didn't wear kuttes to cover up their true identity. „They just came at us out of nowhere.“

The boys went quiet again and Chibs looked around at his brothers. Clay and Jax were still a bit confused, he could see it. Bobby was deep in thought and Juice wasn't very different than his President and Vice President. Piney wasn't present since neither of them wanted to wake up the old man. Opie was still behind bars and Chibs wasn't even sure he'd want to be part of SAMCRO after he's out. Tig was holding a gruge because they brought back Brianne for whatever reason Chibs couldn't ubderstand, but he'll cool off by tomorrow. And Chibs... well he himself wasn't sure where his thoughts were exactly. One moment he's trying to process what happened at the bar and to figure out who those men were, the other... He's thinking of the certain ginger lady who was currently lying in his bed.

It was a little detail he decided to hold on to himself. He figured Gemma would be pissed about having to potentially have to wash bloody sheets in the morning, so he brought Brianne to his room and that way, if she bleeds on the bedsheets, he'll put them to wash. It was something that was due anyway. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to figure out why he brought her to his room. He just did.

„Chibs?“ He shook his head to bring himself out of the trance and looked over at Jax. „You good, man?“ The young Teller put out his cigarette and stared at him. Chibs nodded his head and muttered an 'aye' in confirmation. „What do you think about the girl?“

He shrugged. Truly he had no idea what to think, she seemed skilled and knew her way with guns. He wondered if she would be a good addition to the Club, maybe be their helper if needed. She didn't seem to freak out about getting stabbed or bleeding or the fact that they didn't take her to the hospital. She just jumped right in when those bastards began shooting. „Seems like a good lass. Good with a gun. Brave.“

Jax seemed satisfied with the answer and looked at Clay. „You thinking what I'm thinking?“ Clay looked equally confused as the rest of the Club as they all stared at the Teller. „Let's patch her up.“ Jax just dropped a huge bomb out of no where. When Chibs thought about her being good for the Club, he meant in a way like Unser or Rosen were. Not like a member. Besides, wasn't there a rule that prohibited women from being members?

„What you're saying here is big, Jax.“ Clay began. „Unless she's secretly got a dick, that ain't happening.“ It was what the rest of the Club thought too. No one would vote her in, would they?

„Let's put it up for a vote.“ Jax turned to Bobby. „She saved your lives when she didn't have to.“ He looked at Chibs. „You said she's skilled with a gun and she's brave.“ He then turned to Tig. „And you-„ He paused for a moment. „I don't really want to know what you're thinking about her right now.“ That earned him a few chuckles around and a middle finger from Tig. „My point: she could be valuable. She already fought two men for our Club and took a knife in the leg for it. Could have died and for what? For SAMCRO. Whether or not she wanted to do it to be a hero – doesn't matter. Brianne could be a good addition.“

„Jackie boy, ye know what ye're sayin', right?“ Chibs asked him. Maybe Jackie was just as tired as they all were and wasn't thinking straight.

Jax lit up another cigarette and pulled the ashtray closer to him, seeing as he's the only one smoking right now. „I'm dead serious.“

„Jax, you know I usually respect your ideas. But this... is crazy. Bobby trails off, shaking his head.

„All I'm saying is to try. Let's give her a prospect period and see how she does.“

Everyone looked over at Clay, he was the President after all. If he decided to have a vote, they will. If not, this won't be mentioned again. Clay looked through all the faces sitting at the table, he knew a proper decision couldn't be made at this hour. Tig, Bobby and Chibs were probably on the edge of being drunk, they had been at the bar when the attack took place anyway. The rest were tired and they had a long day tomorrow so they needed to rest. „Sleep on it. I want you all to think of the pros and cons. We'll take the girl with us tomorrow and see how she handles the exchange.“ Tig went to protest about brining an outsider with them but Clay stopped him before he could even speak. „She had already seen the part of this lifestyle. If the vote goes against Jax's idea, we'll make sure she stays connected to the Club in other ways.“ With his final word, he struck down with the gavel and dropped it onto the table.

The members began getting up and leaving the chapel. Chibs watched as everyone but him and Juice. Chibs stayed at the Clubhouse more and more lately and Juice was staying at the Clubhouse temporary for a few weeks.

He and Juice walked side by side down the hallway. Chibs would take up another room for the night, not having any intention to intrude on Brianne's privacy. She wasn't like their croweaters, she was there as a thanks for helping them and for her wound to be treated. He just decided to get some clean clothes to wear. He gently opened the door and poked his head through. Brianne was lying on her back with her arm drapped over her stomach. She only had her shirt and underwear on so Chibs made sure not to stare. He approached the bed and grabbed the edge of the blanket, throwing it over her body in case she got cold during the night. Her hands were coated in her own dry blood which she didn't make any effort to wash before falling asleep. It didn't seem to bother her at all.

He approached the dresser and grabbed a pair of sweatpants then left them on top of her jeans. The sweatpants may be big on her but he assumed she'd much rather wear something comfortable and clean rather than tight and bloody jeans. Then he grabbed some stuff he needed for the morning and left. As he lay in bed for the next thirty minutes he wondered what his vote would be when the time comes. He wanted to respect the rules but at the same time it felt refreshing to have someone from his home country so close to him.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Brianne jerked awake when the door opened, she quickly reached for her gun that was located on the bedside table and aimed it at the door. Juice froze at the doorstep and raised his hands in defence. „Woah!“ He chuckled. „I'm just here to ask if you were hungry, Gemma is bringing us some food and she wanted to know if you'll be joining us. And Clay wants to talk to you.“

Brianne had lowered the gun at that point and nodded slowly. „Aye, sure.“ She looked around the room and noticed it was already day as the sun shone through the small windows on top of the walls. Juice left shortly after she responed and she was once again left alone. She rubbed her eyes and carefully threw her legs over the edge of the bed. Movement hurt like hell but she wasn't going to be bed-ridden all day. Before she entered the bathroom, Brianne went to take her jeans to wear but instead she found gray sweatpants on top of them. Muttering a quick thanks to whoever put them there, even if they couldn't hear her, she grabbed the sweatpants and entered the bathroom, closing the door after her.

She wasn't sure what Clay wanted to talk to her about, maybe to make sure she won't give up his guys and go to the police. She had already told the three of them that she won't if they got her out of there. She wasn't fond of the police either and didn't want to get caught.

Once she was done in the bathroom, she stumbled back into the room and fixed the bed the best she could. Her leg was aching when she leaned too much on her left side so she had to make sure not to do it too much. When she was done with the bed, there was a knock on the door and a head peaked throgh. Tig stood at the doorway and gave her a small smile, which slightly caught her off guard as he was not so happy with her being there last nught. „Clay said to check if you're ready.“

„Aye.“ She nodded and began limping towards him. Tig met her halfway through the room and grabbed her arm, throwing it around his neck. „Thank ye.“

„Don't mention it, Ginger.“ He muttered as the two of them left the room and walked down the hallway. The Clubhouse seemed busier today. She could hear people talking and laughing in the main room. She could smell something delicious and she couldn't wait to eat something. The talking stopped when they entered the main room. She recognized everyone from last night but there were a few unfamiliar figures. For example there were a few people who wore uniforms with 'Teller-Morrow' name tag and there was another old man who wore a similar kutte as the rest, only his wasn't leather. He also carried an oxygen tank.

She also noticed two women. One was blonde and she stuck next to Jax, he had his arm wrapped around her waist. The other was a brunette and she looked mean and scary. But then she smiled at Brianne and approached the duo. „You must be Brianne. The boys told me what happened, how are you feeling?“

Brianne felt relief wash over her, she didn't seem too bad after all. „Gonna be just fine, thanks to everyone.“

Gemma looked surprised when Brianne spoke and looked over at Tig as if accusing him of something. Brianne looked between the two and saw Tig shrug his shoulders. „I didn't know you're Scottish.“ Gemma admitted and Brianne chuckled. „Well I'm sure you'll get along with Chibs.“ The brunette winked at her. Speaking of the devil, Brianne noticed Chibs wasn't there. She even made an effort to look around once again, but still no luck. Gemma seemed to realize she was looking for him. „Scotty will be back any minute, he had some Club business to take care of with Juice and Bobby this morning. Tig help her to that table over there, I'll bring you a plate.“

Tig obeyed with a sigh and helped Brianne sit down at a table not too far from the kitchen where Gemma went. She thanked him for helping her and he patted her shoulder before aproaching the bar and getting himself a beer. Brianne watched as everyone socialized and she wished there was someone she knew better here. She wished Chibs was there because she felt more comfortabkewhen he's around.

It wasn't long until Gemma reappeared, carrying a steaming hot plate and setting it in front of Brianne. It wasn't nothing special just some chicken noodle soup but it smelled amazing and it looked homemade too. „Let it cool down a little. Here.“ Gemma offered a bottle of beer to Brianne and she accepted it, taking a sip. The older woman sat in the chair opposite of her and lit up a cigarette. „You smoke?“ Brianne shook her head. It's not that she didn't smoke, she just didn't want one right now. „So what happened last night? Why did you save the boys?“

Brianne didn't know how to answer that question. She didn't know either if she was honest. She just decided to shoot and and ask questions later. She took a sip of the beer and shrugged her shoulders. „They seemed like they weren't gonna make it.“

„You're not gonna tell anyone about what really went down, right?“ Gemma had a threatening tone on her. Brianne understood she was just looking out for these guys, but Brianne wasn't gonna put herself in danger either. If she were to tell the police, it would put her in the system. So she shook her head and said: „They brought me here and helped me. I got nothin' out of reportin' them.“

Gemma nodded aprovingly. „Good.“ The Clubhouse door opened and the three men who weren't present earlier entered. Juice greeted Gemma and Brianne while Chibs and Bobby looked at the wounded woman disapprovingly.

„Ay, no alcohol for ye, darlin'.“ Chibs took the bottle away from her and took a sip despite Brianne's protest. „Ye're on meds, Bri.“ Brianne looked at him, surprised he was already calling her by a nickname. Chibs didn't seem to catch on as he flashed her a dimpled smile and a wink, and turned on his heels. She watched him approach the bar, and with her beer in his hand he engaged in a conversation with the rest of his friends.

„You two seem to get along.“ Gemma noted. When Brianne looked at the woman, she could have sworn she saw a ghost of a smirk playing on Gemma's face. „Chibs is a good man. Wouldn't want to see him hurt.“

Brianne shook her head at the realization. „Nothin' is goin' on between us, I assure ye. I just met him last night.“ She offered the woman a smile before finally taking a sip of her warm soup. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until that moment. She muttered a quick thanks to Gemma as she ate. Brianne listened to the people talking and laughing around her. When was the last time she felt this safe? These people didn't know her, they didn't owe her anything and they still helped her and fed her. Maybe she could stick around for a while.

Once she was done, Gemma took the plate away as Clay approached her. „We should talk. In private.“ Brianne simply nodded and began standing up but he stopped her. Clay turned around to the bar where most of his Club members were. „Chibs!“ The Scotsman turned around immediately. „Help our lovely guest to the Chapel, will you?“

„Aye.“ Chibs downed the last of his beer and got up. He helped Brianne up and helped her to a double sided door which led to a smaller room. In the middle of the room was a table with a Reaper carved on its surface. Brianne was in an awe of the carving on the table and traced her fingers over it once Chibs let her go. The table had eight chairs around and Clay sat at the head of the table. Chibs took the middle seat by the door while she sat on his left.

„First of all, I want to formally thank you, on behalf of the whole Club, for helping my men last night and apologize it caused you harm.“ Clay began. Brianne shook her head at that.

„It was my decision to help, no need for apologies.“

Clay nodded, she could still see the honest look in his eyes. These people seemed to be very imporant to him, it seemed to Brianne that they had quite the brotherhood going around here. Back where she came from, big faces cared only about those like themselves. While people from lower ranks sacrifice themselves for the cause and no one even bat an eye. „There is a preposition me and the Club would like to make.“ Brianne nodded, urging Clay to continue. „How would you like to prospect for the Club? Of course, prospecting doesn't mean you'd be patched up, you need to prove yourself first.“

Brianne was taken aback, she was not expecting this. She looked back at Chibs who gave her an encouraging nod. „I- I don't know what to say.“ She replied, looking back at Clay. „I thought MC's don't patch up women.“

„Ye'd be an exception to the rule, darlin'.“ Chibs replied.

Brianne wasn't sure what to say to that. Why would they make an exception for her? „But why?“ She demanded. „Ye just met me. I could be dangerous, ye don't know me.“

Clay smiled. „If you were, you wouldn't have helped my guys.“ Fair point. Brianne thought. She guessed he judged her by that already. „Come with us today, see how we handle certain things. Prospect for a while and if you don't like it – I'm sure there are other ways you could stay connected to us.“

Brianne didn't like the fact that he thought she would want to stay connected. Why did he assume that? Maybe having people that cared as much as they care about each other could be nice, but she was running away from certain things from her past. She didn't want to put herself in danger, or put anyone else in danger. Her burden was too big for something like that. Maybe if she told them something without revealing everything, they would understand why she can't stay for long. But she didn't want to tell complete strangers anything at the same time.

She sighed. „I don't know if it's a good idea to stay conected to ye all.“ Clay raised an eyebrow at that. „Don't get me wrong, it's not ye. It's me and my complicated past. There are people who might be after me and I don't want to put anyone between me and them in case they end up catching up to me.“

„What people?“ Chibs questioned. She didn't have to turn around to know he was already looking at her.

„The less ye know, the better. All I want to say is: it's better if I keep my distance. I can see that all of ye care for each other and I'd hate to ruin what ye all have going on here.“

She waited for a response – from either one of them, but no one said anything. They stared at her as if she was an alien, a creature from another world. Tension was thick in the air of the room they called chapel, the silence was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Brianne couldn't say if she would rather they leave it at this or say something and ask for more answers. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as she awaited for a reaction from either of the men. Her words hung in the air as a mixture of caution and vulnerability washed over her. She hoped she won't have to give up too much information, if she overshared – she would have to tell them what she did too and Brianne was not ready to give up that kind of information to anyone.

Clay's expression softened suddenly, understanding the wight of Brianne's words. „We're not asking you to put yourself in danger, sweetheart,“ he reassured her. „But if you feel like you're in danger, being on your own won't necessarily protect you either. We've faced our fair share of threats, and we look out for one another. Maybe we can help you.“

Chibs chimed in too, his voice was gentle yet firm as he spoke. „Aye, the Club is a family. We protect each other. If ye decide to stay, we'll have yer back. But we won't force ye into anything.“ As he spoke, he couldn't help but wonder about the weight of Brianne's unspoken past and the reasons she felt compelled to keep their distance. He hoped that, if she decided to stay, the Club could offer support she needed, but he also understood that trust was earned, not demanded.

Brianne felt conflicted as she let her gaze shift from Clay to Chibs, then back to the President again. There was sincerity in their eyes, it was undeniable. She found herself yearning for the kind of bond they shared here at the MC. Yet, her past held her back, urging her to keep her distance. She finally took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. „I appreciate yer offer, truly,“ she began, her voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and hesitation. „But I need time to figure this out. Maybe... just maybe I can give it a shot, see how it goes. But I can't make promises about staying long-term.“ Chibs admired her courage to consider the unknown, fully aware that she has to give her trust to unfamiliar people and yet she was willing to do it.

Clay nodded, understanding her need to stay cautious. „That's fair. Take the time you need, and we'll support you however we can. Just know that the door's open if you ever decide you want to walk through it.“ As he spoke those words, Clay's mind contemplated the potential risks of having Brianne in their midst. He wondered if, deep down, she craved the sense of belonging that the Club provided. Clay's mind drifted to the risks they all faced daily, but he couldn't ignore the inkling that Brianne might be worth the gamble. He hoped she would recognize the genuine care and protection the club offered, even as she remained cautious about the secrets she held.

Even with the weight of the decision settling upon her shoulders, Brianne couldn't deny the stirring of hope within her. The prospect of finding a place where she belonged, even if it meant facing her fears, was both daunting and enticing. She'll give it a shot, and leave if it doesn't work out.

[missathlete31]

Nowhere to Run Chapter 5

The Prequel to the Wedding of the Season

Notes:

Okay, so first I owe you all an apology for not getting this chapter out in a timely manner and then I owe you another because unfortunately you are stuck with this little teaser filler chapter. I am posting another dramatic chapter today which features a huge Hangman-Maverick confrontation so I hope you’ll stay tuned for that!

Also I did make a OC for this story. Her name is Naomi, she is Javy’s pregnant wife and her role is important in future chapters for the wedding so I hope you like her!

Despite their last conversation ending on good terms, Jake was still hoping he would be deployed when Payback's wedding came around. It wasn't that he didn't want to go per say but given how things had escalated with him and Bradley before he had left Miramar that last time, Jake was a little nervous to see the mustached pilot again. The last thing he needed or wanted was to cause a scene during Reuben's big day, a sentiment shared by Mickey when he left Jake no less than four messages begging him to keep his distance from Bradshaw. Jake had rolled his eyes seeing that it was him being warned when each time Rooster was the one who started it, but that sounded immature in his head, much less written back in a text message so Jake just promised Fanboy he would behave.

In spite of his concerns about potential fights, Jake was a little excited to see the team again. He had been on his carrier non-stop for almost seven months at this point and unfortunately his contact with the rest of the world had been basically non-existent. They were running stealth recon so the carrier's communications were mostly blacked out and besides a few calls to Coyote over the first few early weeks, Jake was literally in the dark. It didn't help that half way through his stint, Hangman dropped and broke his phone, not allowing him to fix it until he docked back in California yesterday morning.

As everyone else on his team hugged and reunited with their family members, Jake left the docks and headed to a Verizon store, getting a new phone in time to see that despite being away for all that time he barely had any calls or texts to come home to. There were a few from Coyote of course, until Jake had borrowed a buddy's phone to let his best friend know about the loss of his, and check in's from some of the others in the Machado clan, but nothing from Jake's own parents or family. Some of the Daggers had reached out, funny memes sent or just a general 'how's it hanging' but those were few and far between, the most dedicated being Fanboy and that was only to give Jake warnings about the wedding, nothing really asking about how he was in general.

It shouldn't have been surprising, he had left them first after all but Jake would be lying if he said it didn't hurt. Things had felt different during those weeks in North Island, and even though he had blown it all up spectacularly in the hangars that day, Jake had selfishly hoped some relationships could survive the blast. Jake couldn't help wondering, as he sat in his hotel room on the night before Payback's wedding, if maybe the team did stay together and just alienated him. Hangman was a hard person to be around, he knew that, and the others might have felt he wasn't worth the effort. He couldn't blame them and he certainly couldn't hate them for it but it still hurt just the same.

The conundrum of Jake Hangman Seresin: constantly pushing people away to avoid being hurt, only to be hurt all alone instead.

But Hangman was trying to fix that.

Jake had learned a lot during the Uranium mission and not just in the air. Hangman softened himself, smoothed some of those rough edges that he was known for and rejoined the Vigilantes almost seamlessly. He took back his spot as unofficial leader, still with his same cavalier attitude but a little less condescendingly. When he showcased some of the moves he had learned from Maverick, he didn't tease the rest of the team when they watched wide eye and in awe but taught them, showing off like he loved to do but with more of a purpose. Of course Hangman was still Hangman, and he smirked and winked and proclaimed loudly for all to hear about how he had swooped in and came to the rescue of two pilots, ultimately saving the day but he also swallowed some humility when it leaked he was only chosen as spare. The news of his second air-to-air to kill had reached his old team's ears, and Hangman had first played his part with flaunts and bragging until a few of his good friends on the team noticed the nightmares he started having again, the winces when the topic was brought up and the loss of the usual glint in his green eyes. The others in the squad noticed too and soon everyone on the team, his team, ended up supporting him in his struggles, helping him to work through his thoughts, feelings, and most importantly his guilt. It was foreign to a man like Jake Seresin to show such emotions and self-proclaimed weakness to anyone, let alone to men and women he was flying with but to his immense surprise, instead of being chastised or ridiculed, it earned him friendships. He was looked at beyond his call-signs and his accomplishments for once and just looked at like a teammate and friend.

It just hurt that it took so much time before Jake had learned such a rewarding lesson. He had missed so many opportunities of having similar relationships and interactions with the others, too hardheaded and stubborn to let his mask down and be genuine.

But he wasn't giving up.

Jake naively hoped this wedding could fix things that were broken, could fix the Daggers. They might not be able to be a team, but they could be friends again. Jake missed Phoenix's teasing, Fanboy's impressions, Omaha and Fritz's impromptu songs. He missed Bob's stealthy entrances, Halo's ballerina twirls on the way to her plane, the Ivies crazy conspiracy theories. Hell Jake even missed Rooster's piano playing; he could never hear "Great Balls of Fire" without thinking of Bradshaw and how many nights throughout both their careers that a bar of strangers came together to sing the notes of that damn catchy song.

Maybe this wedding could be the start of better times.

Jake planned on taking an uber to the wedding, not knowing much about the Florida town that Payback and his soon to be wife Jacqueline lived to rent a car, but that was immediately nixed when Coyote and his wife Naomi arrived at the hotel. Javy and Naomi had been married for three years already and Jake had found out the day that Coyote had succumbed to G-Loc that the young family of two were soon to be a family of three.

Hangman had never hugged his best friend harder than when he heard the news.

Now Naomi was due in just a few short weeks, waddling into the hotel lobby to envelope Jake in the biggest hug she could with her swollen belly. There were very few people in the world as sweet as Javy's wife; Javy's mother being the only other one that came to the blonde's mind. Jake was forever teasing his best friend that he was spoiled by getting the two nicest people in the world as such prominent figures in his life. To which Coyote mocked back that that meant Jake was just as spoiled since they were a part of his life as well, loving him just as much and perhaps in the elder Mrs. Machado's sake more than Javy. If Jake's eyes happened to look a little watery after his best friend's words, Javy was a saint for ignoring it.

"Look at you" Jake smiled, pulling out of Naomi's hug to take a look at the woman. She was still as beautiful as ever, even more so with that pregnancy glow, though Jake could see some exhaustion in her brown eyes. She wore a simply black dress that flaunted her bump, but it was classy just like the woman always was, "You looked beautiful" he told her.

"I look like a whale-"

"But a beautiful whale-"

"Hey" she laughed in faux outrage, smacking Hangman lightly on the arm, "you were supposed to say I look slim" she chastised playfully, a smile on her face.

"You're carrying my godson, you need to be huge so he can be big and strong and the greatest Quarterback in Texas University history."

Naomi shook her head with an eye roll, "Wrong football" she warned the blonde, "his Abuelo already got him a soccer net and goal."

"Yeah well wait until Jakey Jr. starts tossing that pigskin, he's going to fall in love." Jake tilted his head mischievously, "Jake Jr. is still on the top of the baby name list right?"

"It was never on the list" a voice came from his right and Jake turned to see his best friend striding towards them. Javy looked good, happier than Jake had ever seen him, and the blonde couldn't help the grin that widened on his face as the two best friends shared an embrace. "Welcome back man" Javy spoke, a touch of emotion in his tone, "we missed you."

"Missed you guys too, can't believe how much has happened since I left, look how far along you guys have gotten."

Coyote beamed as he looked over at his wife, "t-minus 41 days" he shares giddily, overjoyed at the impending arrival of his new addition.

"Jesus" Jake looked at his two oldest friends with a scrutinizing gaze though it held nothing but true fondness, " you're actually going to let him be a Daddy Naomi?"

Javy's face scrunched up indignant, "Hey screw you, I've been raising you for the past decade."

"That does not help your case-"

"Okay children" Naomi cut in as the boys moved in to play fight, "we should head out if we don't want to be late."

"You got it DD."

"DD?" Jake questioned, his eye brow raised. Coyote met his gaze with a wide grin, "DD- Designated Driver."

"Nice" the two pilots high-fived as Naomi rolled her eyes, "yes, yes, now you both can act like the dumb frat boys you are."

"Awww baby" Javy wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, "you know you found my frat boy ways irresistible, it's what made you fall in love with me!"

"No that was tequila-"

Jake chuckled as the couple continued to squabble, taking a moment to fix his hair in the mirror before they departed. Behind him he heard Javy groan, "oh my God, it's fine" he moaned as though he found his friend's actions insufferable, "God, you're like a woman- ow" Jake looked up to see his friend nursing his arm that his wife clearly just smacked. "Sorry some of us want to look good tonight," the blonde winked through the mirror, "you never know what single ladies could be in attendance."

"They will take one whiff of you and run in the other direction."

Jake offered up a stealthly middle finger as the trio headed towards the parking lot, "just because you're fully embracing the Dad bod" Jake motioned towards Coyote's midsection jokingly, as it clearly looked as trim as ever in his dress uniform.

Javy gave a teasing shriek, "don't tell me I look fat?" he asked in a high pitch voice, "I thought this dress was slimming?"

"I mean how do you think I feel" Hangman deadpanned, "I chose the same one."

"As long as I wear it better."

"Well then prepare for disappointment-"

"Wow now I really feel like one of your dates-"

"That's not what your mother said."

Naomi, watching and waiting at the rental car, sighed loudly, "I swear if you guys are going to be like this all night, I'm ditching you both for a hot army ranger."

"But then who will be our DD?" Javy asked cheekily.

She squinted her eyes, "oh you think you're so funny and charming Javier Machado but you are not Sir."

"Oh I'm not am I?" Coyote reached for his wife and pulled her gently to his chest pressing a tiny kiss to the tip of her nose, "are you sure about that mi amor?"

"Positive" Naomi's smile widened though, "but that hot army rang" but she cut off as Javy leaned down for a more passionate kiss, his hand coming up and cuffing his wife's cheek as he leaned in. Jake felt like he was intruding on the moment but finally, seeing the time, he cleared his throat, "okay kids you're already pregnant so let's save some of that for later okay?" When he was rewarded with not one but two pairs of middle fingers the blonde laughed and snuck the car keys from his best friend's grip, "now I get to drive."

"Knock yourself out man" Javy moved to open the door for Naomi.

Once they were all settled Jake started the short drive to the wedding venue, not even bothered by the traffic on the roads. "God I miss driving" he told the others, "once I get back to base I'm taking a long drive in my truck to Texas."

"Your ass better be in New Orleans for the birth Godfather."

"Of course" he grinned over at Naomi in the passenger seat, "someone has to catch Javy when he faints."

"Ha-Ha" the other man mocked.

"I'm serious" Naomi continued, "I know you get a few months off now so come stay with us for a bit. You know we'd love to have you and Javy has a ton of furniture that he was supposed to have built already."

Jake's heart warmed at the offer, he truly was blessed to have Javy and Naomi in his life. Refusing to let his emotions get the better of him though he gave the others his trademark smirk instead. "For the sake of Jake Jr," he told them, "I'll have to help, I've seen Javy try to put together a bookshelf and it fell apart the next day-"

"THE INSTRUCTIONS WERE IN SWEDISH!" Javy cried out in indignation, "and what is this, make fun of Javy day?"

"It's always make fun of Javy day" Jake countered smugly, "you make it so easy."

The other man grumbled in his seat, "I prefer make fun of Jake day better" he complained, earning easy laughs from his companions.

The car fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Jake caught Naomi's face discreetly turning to glare at Javy. He watched his best friend meet his wife's eyes before mouthing, 'I know, I know' back at her. Jake felt a bit of unease in his stomach, "everything okay?" he ventured carefully.

Javy jumped like he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar, "uh, yeah, totally. Just um, was wondering how much you heard from some of the others recently?"

The blonde's brow furrowed, "like who?"

"Oh you know, " Javy answered carefully, gauging his best friend's response, "some of the Daggers."

"No" Jake shook his head, looking up and making eye contact with Coyote through the rear-view mirror, "I only got my phone back a day ago, why? What's up?"

"Nothing, nothing, I was just curious."

"Javy" Naomi warned sternly, "tell him."

"Tell me what?" Hangman cut in immediately, "what is it?" When he received no reply he waited until a red light to see the married couple having another silent argument. Jake frowned, "come on guys just spit it out already. I can take it, I swear."

"It's Mav" Javy finally relented.

Jake couldn't contain his confusion, "Mav? What about him?"

"He’s out" the dark haired man explained softly.

“Out?" Hangman was ready to kill his best friend for his indistinct answers, "Out where? What happened?”

Javy finally stopped his vagueness, “Out of the Navy," he informed Jake, "he was up in the air with two other planes and there was some sort of training accident. One plane went down bad, a fire and everything. There was supposed to be an inquest but he officially ‘retired’ and then they called it off. I heard they drove him out."

Hangman blanched in surprise, “No shit really?" he questioned, watching as his best friend nodded in conformation. "Well who was in the training accident?" the blonde asked desperately, thinking of the four teammates he knew of that still was serving under Maverick and feeling his heart constrict at the thought of it being any of them, "Was it one of the Daggers?”

“No" Javy immediately moved to put his friend at ease, recognizing the concern on Jake's face, "it was some new guys," he explained. "But it's already been a few weeks and none of them are back in the cockpit.”

“Who told you all this?”

“Fritz," the dark haired man shared, "he’s still there with them." Javy's face fell a bit further, "he um," the man rubbed the back of his neck nervously, clearly not sure how to say the rest of what he wanted to say, "Fritz said things were bad before the mid air crash but ever since Mav left, the team is in shambles. Rooster is apparently taking it the worst, like one more outburst from real disciplinary action."

Jake couldn't contain his frustrated huff of annoyance, "not surprising."

"That's what I said" Javy concurred, "but I wanted to warn you since well, since everyone is going to be there and according to Fritz the Daggers aren't going to last much longer."

"What's that mean?"

"Group is finished, getting new assignments by the end of the month."

Hangman's eyes darted back up, "You serious?"

Coyote nodded, "it's all over man."

"Maybe it's for the best" Naomi interjected diplomatically, "they gave it a try and it didn't work out. Some things are just not meant to be."

"Yeah" her husband joked, "try telling that to Bradshaw-"

"Or his fists" Jake grimaced.

Naomi sighed wearily, "there better not be a fight tonight" she warned.

Coyote turned back to the window, his brows raised, "no promises" he murmured but the rest of the car heard.

"Jesus," Jake moaned, his mind still reeling. He couldn't help but worry about what this meant for the unsteady foundation he was on already with the others. He had come into today with the hope of fixing things with his old squad but it seemed that the Curse of Jake Hangman Seresin was still on and he was once more too late. Though it wasn't entirely fair, Hangman did have a role in everything that had happened to Mav and the others and that he was certainly going to get some flack and guilt thrown his way; if Bradshaw was pissed, maybe even some fists thrown his way. This was not how the blonde wanted this night to go and he wondered if it were too late to turn around and head back to California, telling Payback he actually got stuck on duty and couldn't make it after all. It was probably preferable to an altercation at his wedding reception. As though reading his mind, Jake felt a gentle hand reach for his arm, Naomi offering a tight smile, "we're on your side" she told him and Jake gave a short nod in return.

"Thank you" he whispered.

From the back seat Javy let out a low moan, "it's going to be a long night isn't it" he asked.

Jake and Naomi shared another glance, "Damn straight" they chorused but the car continued on. Whatever they would face tonight, at least they would do so together.

[voraciousvore]

Big Corp Inc. (17/43)

***This chapter contains mouthplay/ mild sexual content***

Chapter 17: Cake

Candy had been smitten with Martin before, but now she was obsessed with him. She was reluctant to leave him when he dropped her off at the railway station, but she did want to get home so she could shower and rest up. Every time she thought about him, her heart fluttered and she felt warmth spread throughout her body. She couldn’t deny her feelings; she was hopelessly in love. 

She wanted his attention and affection more than anything, so she wracked her brains for a way she could thank him for rescuing her. She recalled that Bianca mentioned he had a sweet tooth and decided to bake him a cake. Although a cake her size wouldn’t even be a single bite for him, she figured he would still appreciate the gesture. He could at least taste the sweetness on his tongue when he put the cake in his mouth. 

Excited at the prospect of making Martin happy, Candy took a shower back at her apartment, changed into fresh clothes, and went to the grocery store. She didn’t have much money left, but cake mix and frosting weren’t too expensive anyways. Candy enjoyed baking. She liked the idea of making something delicious that would make others joyful and satiate their hunger. She labored to make the biggest cake she could realistically carry. While it would be nowhere near large enough for a Giant, she was still pleased with the result when she took it out of the oven. 

Once the cake cooled, she slathered a liberal amount of buttercream frosting all over the outside, more than she would normally use since she knew the whole cake would be eaten up all at once in a single mouthful. She kept the cake in the pan so that she would be able to transport it to work tomorrow. As she prepared for bed, she started to feel ill as she thought about going back to Big Corp Inc., working in between Ronny and Mr. Hardon. She had been so enthusiastic about pleasing Martin, she didn’t think about how Mr. Hardon had literally tried to swallow her alive in his ice cream sundae. 

She wondered if he would be so bold to eat her again while at work. She suspected the office environment had protected her up to this point, since he hadn’t consumed her until she was at his house. The memory of being forced into his gigantic mouth, sliding down and getting caught in his throat with the walls of meat crushing her on all sides made her quake with fear. She was scared, but she thought to herself that she’d be okay. Her desire to see Martin again overpowered her better judgement. 

The next morning, Candy got ready for work and left her apartment early, hauling the unwieldy cake pan with her. She was apprehensive about going back to her job but thrilled to give Martin a surprise cake. Her conflicting emotions were pulling her apart but she surged ahead regardless. As she boarded the railcar, she daydreamed about Martin. His stormy gray eyes were so alluring, the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, full of poignant feeling in their depths only magnified by their incredible size. Looking into his irises was comparable to looking up at dramatic thunderheads far up in the sky on an overcast day. Every feature of his Giant face was pleasing to her eye, from his prominent nose and full lips to his strong jawline and the dark stubble around his lips and chin. She fantasized about how soft and tender his huge lips would feel pressed against her, with his warm breath on her body and his stubble tickling her skin. She wanted to be close to him so badly; she wanted him to love her. 

Her sugary dreams propelled her through the lobby of the Big Corp building up to the third floor. She arrived early, before most of her coworkers would start filtering in for work, so she had to take a bold risk and ask a stranger to press the button in the elevator for the correct level for her. The Giantess who helped her was properly dressed, unlike Mr. Hardon’s employees, and was quite surprised to see a human, but helped her like she asked. Candy couldn’t see her feet around the cake, but she made sure to hop over the gap in the floor as she exited the elevator. The journey to Martin’s cubicle was a long one, especially when carrying a big cake, but she had given herself plenty of time to traverse the long distance.  

Due to the early hour, the floor was eerily silent, devoid of the usual ambience of clacking keyboards, ringing phones, and conversational chatter. The only background noise was the hum of the air conditioning and electronics. Candy felt at peace with the knowledge that nobody would be around to harass her and threaten her safety. When she made it to Martin’s cubicle, she was pleased to see his desk happened to be equipped with a capsule launcher. She had observed that such accommodations were sporadic, with the understanding that the partitions with human ladders linked the desks together so she could at least theoretically access any desk in the core office area. She entered the capsule launcher with the cake and made herself comfortable on the surface of Martin’s desk. 

She couldn’t wait to see him again. He would be so surprised! She conjured up scenarios in her head of how he might react, each one more fantastical and self-indulgent than the last. The office started to liven up as her coworkers arrived, and she heard the repeated dings of the elevator and its doors swishing open and closed as it carried Giants to the workspace. Sensing he would soon arrive, Candy took the covering off her cake and smiled wide. 

Her smile vanished, however, when a different Giant stopped outside the cubicle. Ronny was on his way to the break room to fill up his coffee mug when he spied Candy sitting on Martin’s desk. He was plenty tall enough to see over the cubicle walls, so his approach was all the more frightening to Candy when she saw his Giant face leering over the towering wall at her. He entered the cubicle, his huge mass filling up the small space. Candy whimpered with fright but stood her ground, refusing to relinquish her cake she had spent so much time and effort to make and transport. She knew running would be futile anyway. 

Ronny’s dark eyes drank in the scene before him. “What do you have there, Candy?” he questioned her with a creepy grin, leaning forward over her and drowning her in his shadow. “And why are you on Martin’s desk?” He set his giant coffee cup down on the desk next to Candy. 

“N-nothing that concerns you, R-ronny,” Candy stuttered back, trying to be assertive. “Just move along before Martin shows up.” 

Ronny’s unsettling grin widened. “I’m not worried about him,” he snarled. He reached his enormous hand out. Candy yelped and covered her head with her arms defensively, but Ronny didn’t grab her, opting instead to pick up and examine the cake. He brought it up to his face and sniffed it. “Oh, it’s a tiny cake! Smells good too!” 

“Hey!” Candy shouted. “Give that back!” She didn’t put all that hard work into her cake just to have it wasted on that brute Ronny. 

“Hardly much of a cake at all, is it?” Ronny mused. His gigantic fingers crunched down on the pan slightly, bending the metal and breaking apart the cake. “I’m assuming you made this for Martin, but what makes you think he’d appreciate it? It’s too small for a Giant. You’re too small. You’re a weak and pathetic human. He wouldn’t want you or this crumb of cake, quite frankly.” 

Ronny’s cruel words struck a nerve with Candy. Although she tried to hide how upset she was, her eyes started to well up with tears. “Stop it...” she mumbled, averting her eyes to her feet with shame.  

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you back your cake. In fact, you can have your cake and eat it too!” With his free hand, he moved quickly to knock Candy on her back and pinned her to the desk with his fingers. Her limbs flailed as she pummeled his finger with her fists in defiance. Ronny took the cake and smashed it down on her, smearing it all over her body and clothes. Candy was stunned as the Giant laughed over his cruel trick. Her cake was destroyed. Ronny was delighted with himself. He tossed the warped pan that he had crushed between his fingers on the desk next to Candy with a clatter. With an arrogant grin, he reclaimed his mug and left Candy laying on the desk as he continued on his original course to the break room, humming to himself. 

Candy slowly sat up, wiped frosting out of her eyes, and looked over her body at the remains of the cake with sadness. Ronny had ruined everything. The cake was entirely unsalvageable. She had already started crying at his taunts, but now the waterworks really kicked in and salty streams ran down her cheeks. Her thoughtful gesture of thanks to Martin was gone. Now, she’d never be able to gain his affection. She glumly pulled herself to her feet. She needed to remove herself from his desk, before he showed up and saw her in such a mess. 

Just as she had this thought, Martin rounded the corner and entered his cubicle. He halted in his tracks when he saw the small human on his desk, crying and dirty. 

“Candy?” he asked with surprise. “What’s wrong? Why are you on my desk?” His gray eyes grew dark and stormy with concern and he slowly sat down in his chair. 

Candy sniffled and turned away with shame. “It’s nothing, Martin. I’m sorry to inconvenience you. I’ll be out of your hair right away.” Head down, she shuffled over towards the capsule machine. Martin blocked her path with his wall of a hand. 

“Hold on, Candy. Talk to me. What happened?” Martin asked her, his voice soft with sympathy. He lowered his head and squinted at her. “Is that… cake?” 

Candy nodded and wiped her eyes. “I made you a cake, to thank you for going out of your way to help me yesterday, when I was lost. I was going to surprise you with it, but Ronny found me first and smashed the cake all over me. It’s inedible now.” She exhaled a shuddering breath and wept a fresh batch of tears. “I don’t know why he’s so mean to me! He hates me for some reason!” 

Martin’s stormy eyes flashed with a lightning bolt of anger. He needed to have a not-so-cordial talk with Ronny later. For now, though, he wanted to comfort Candy. It broke his heart to see her so upset. He thought about what he could possibly do or say to rectify the wrong done to her. As he pondered, his eyes drifted over her small form. She was covered in the remnants of her prized cake. She had chunks of cake stuck on her arms and legs, on her clothes, her breasts. Streaks of frosting ran through her hair, over her face and neck, up her inner thighs. Martin started to drool as lustful, gluttonous thoughts wormed their way into his brain. She looked irresistible. He recalled how amazingly sweet she tasted when he ate her, and he knew her delicious flavor would pair marvelously with a cake. 

“Um... Candy...” he began, choosing his words carefully. “I don’t want your cake to go to waste. If it’s okay, um... can I still eat it?” He moved closer to her, his massive face only feet away from her and his chin hovering just above the desk. 

She tilted her head and looked at him, confused. “But I don’t have the cake anymore...” She glanced down at her body and clothes, slathered in cake crumbs and frosting. Her eyes widened in horror. “You’re not planning to eat ME, are you?” she cried, hugging her arms around her body protectively. 

“Heavens, no!” Martin replied, his face burning. “I didn’t mean that! I just intend to... you know... eat it off your body.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, realizing as he uttered the words how gross and crude he sounded. He hoped he hadn’t just scared her off. He licked his lips to prevent strands of saliva from dribbling down his chin. His urges were growing stronger, his concupiscence and hunger harder to control. 

Candy gazed at his lips, which were almost close enough for her to reach up and touch them, remembering her fantasies from earlier. She wanted to lay down on those full, soft lips like pillows, or even go so far as to slip inside them. Her eyes drifted up the landscape of his face and met his stormy gray irises. She was floating in the clouds in those huge eyes. “Ok,” she agreed. “I trust you.” 

Martin slowly cupped his hands around her delicate form and lifted her off the desk. He straightened his spine, sitting back in his chair, and brought her up to his mouth. His heart was pounding and every inch of his flesh, including down below his belt, was alive. Candy, too, was quivering with anticipation. Mindful that he didn’t want to move too fast and scare her, Martin started by tentatively nibbling her with his lips. Candy leaned into his lips, which were even more sensual than she imagined, and kissed him back, caressing his bottom lip with her hand. His enormous lips parted and he touched her body with the tip of his tongue. His taste buds exploded with sweet bliss. His tongue moved further out, exploring her body. He gently licked the cake crumbs and frosting off her shirt and breasts. His lips closed around one of her arms and he drew her in up to her shoulder and sucked it clean, rubbing it down with his tongue inside his mouth. He did the same with her opposite arm, keeping his movements soft. Candy used her free hand to play with the stubble on his upper lip. 

He gradually moved down to her legs, the strokes of his tongue becoming larger and more voracious. He eagerly attacked the big stripes of frosting that clung to her thighs, forgetting himself and sliding the tip of his tongue up her skirt. Candy let out a startled gasp and Martin retracted his tongue right away. 

“S-sorry about that,” he apologized with embarrassment. He had gotten carried away with how good she tasted. 

“No, don’t stop,” Candy breathed. Martin blinked with surprise, but was more than happy to oblige her and reached his tongue back up between her thighs. He tasted a whole new flavor in her sweet spot. Candy spread her legs apart wider and uttered soft moans of pleasure, which turned Martin on even more. He found himself massaging his hard dick under his desk with his other hand. He licked her inner legs clean and became aggressive enough with his tongue that he lifted her out of his hand with it, so her feet were no longer resting in his palm. She slid forward on his tongue towards his lips. 

Martin was tempted to scoop her up entirely into his mouth, but he didn’t want to do such an act against her will and frighten her. He opened his mouth timidly to make clear what he wanted and waited to see how Candy would react. Candy, sitting on his tongue, looked into the dark, fleshy cave in front of her. The inside of his mouth, from his teeth to his red cheeks and palate, was dripping with saliva. Warm, moist breath emanated from his gullet deep inside. Candy, having gone through the unpleasant experience twice now of being swallowed, felt a small stab of fear as she gazed into the passage at the back of his throat, which moved slightly in rhythm with the Giant’s breathing. 

Candy was nervous, but she trusted Martin not to swallow her. She crawled inside his mouth, moving farther back on his tongue. Martin, pleased, pulled his tongue back to its default position inside his mouth and slowly closed his jaws around her. Candy tried her best to stay calm as she watched the rows of massive teeth come together. She was enveloped in the same wet warmth that she recalled felt so nice after she had been trapped inside the refrigerator. The huge tongue undulated beneath her, tasting her. Martin curled his tongue around her tenderly and rolled her around in his mouth, savoring her sweetness, gently pressing her against his teeth and the roof of his mouth. She was divine. 

As bizarre as the whole experience was, it felt oddly intimate to Candy. Without the fear of being eaten, she strangely enjoyed being inside his mouth. She could tell how much he loved her taste by how much he was salivating and playing with her on his tongue. She liked being securely surrounded on all sides by his warm flesh, pleasuring him with her whole body. Instead of just feeding him a yummy treat, she herself was the treat that gave him so much joy. The concept was appealing to her, not to mention the physical sensations. 

Martin, for his part, was certainly enjoying himself. Candy tasted beyond amazing. Martin wanted to do so much more with her than he could do in a public place. Some time, he’d have to take her home with him, if she’d have him. He was optimistic. If she liked and trusted him enough to crawl inside his mouth of her own volition, he figured his chances with her must be decent. She felt so good in his mouth, he almost didn’t want to let her out. He was tempted to swallow her, although of course he wouldn’t do such a thing to her. He restrained his urges, though his stomach grumbled eagerly for a snack. He sucked her clean of any cake residue, rolling her around in his mouth a bit extra for good measure. 

He gently released her wet, disheveled body from his mouth into his hand. He was worried that she might have been miserable inside his mouth, but his fears were dispelled when he saw her flushed, beaming face. 

“Wow, Martin... that was... something quite special...” Candy said. 

“You... didn’t mind that? Really?” Martin had to admit he was surprised.  

Candy shook her head and smiled up at him. “It was nice, actually…” The pair held eye contact without speaking for a long moment before Martin blushed and turned away. He tried to ignore the hard lump in his pants. He imagined unzipping his fly and sticking Candy down inside, but he knew it was a terrible idea to do something like that while at work. Plus, he wasn’t sure how Candy would react. He realized the size of his equipment might be quite intimidating to her. He pushed those intrusive thoughts out of his head for the time being. 

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up and back to your desk?” he suggested, lifting her up and carrying her off in his gigantic hand. Candy snuggled into the soft folds of his palm, and his heart melted. 

Chapter 18

First Chapter

[no1frogfan]

Desire lines, part 4

Kuroo x afab reader

Series synopsis: Against his wishes, Kuroo must hire a personal assistant. You’re not exactly the right person for the job, but it’s a job, and you need the money. Inspired by Robert Macfarlane’s definition of desire lines in landscapes: “paths and tracks made over time by the wishes and feet of walkers, especially those paths that run contrary to design or planning.”

Chapter word count: ~2.2k

Chapter tags & warnings: none afaik

Series masterlist part 3 | part 5 (wip)

4. Deer trail

When Monday rolls around, it feels like you’ve been shoved across an invisible threshold. On Friday, people were normal, even relaxed, but today, they’re running around like headless chickens. You barely dodge someone careening around a corner. It’s as if everyone has only now realized the big meeting is two weeks away.

Kuroo notices your arrival through his open door. “Morning, do you have time to meet right now?”

You set your bag down straight away, fish out a notepad and pencil, and hurry into his office.

He’s dressed in a conservative two-piece today — medium gray with a subtle windowpane plaid on the jacket, a white button-down, and a coppery brown tie embroidered with giraffe silhouettes. He gestures vaguely toward you while he skims a packet of papers, “Sorry, give me a minute. Let me finish this before I forget what I’m doing.”

“Sure, no problem.”

You sit down and, with nothing else to do, take in the decor while you wait.

You’ve been in and out of this office countless times already, but only to drop things off on his desk, never wanting to linger or disrupt his focus. The massive wood and steel desk he sits behind is nowhere near as tidy as it was on your first day. It’s now covered in stacks of papers, file folders, an empty coffee cup, and what looks like rolled up posters. The clutter has even begun to overtake the small seating area in the corner of the office (that you’ve never seen him use). The glass coffee table there is piled high with papers. The bronze statuette that normally sits on it (a stylized pheasant or something) is instead laying on the cushion of the leather loveseat. Even the couch has papers strewn across it.

On either side of the wall behind him, built-in bookshelves hold a number of books and binders, some labeled, some not. From where you’re sitting now, you can make out a few of the labels (Finances, FIVB, Exhibition match 2022).

There are photos, too, that you take the time to examine. Even at this distance, you can tell they’re all of Kuroo with groups of people (his unruly hair is a dead giveaway). One photo is of maybe a dozen people with a short, elderly man, all wearing matching maroon and black track suits. There’s a bigger photo, this time with Kuroo in a suit standing among a huge group of men (in numbers and in stature), half in black and turquoise jerseys and half in white and gold. And finally, one from what looks like elementary school, a small Kuroo standing next to another boy, flanked on one side by a middle-aged man and on the other by an elderly couple.

Displayed in the remaining spaces are some knickknacks. There’s a maroon and black #1 jersey signed by a whole slew of people, what looks like a trophy shaped like a gaming controller, a white bottle vase with A&B embossed on the side, a realistic-looking figurine of some kind of feathered dinosaur, and a plain red clay kyusu teapot with a small chip in the handle.

They must be keepsakes, not that you have any idea what significance they might hold. You’ve yet to hear Kuroo speak about anything that’s not work-related. If you hadn’t met him through Iwa, you doubt you would’ve known a single thing about him, not even that he’d played volleyball.

Just when you’re starting to get antsy, Kuroo signs the papers with a small flourish and sets them aside.

“Sorry about that. We’re in crunch time to prepare for the FIVB meeting. The next two weeks are going to be pretty intense, so while we still have some time, I want to give you a quick run-down of the plan and what you’ll need to do to prepare for the meeting.”

He waits until you have your pencil ready before he continues, “FIVB is the Fédération Internationale de Volleyball. They’re the international governing body for volleyball, kind of like FIFA for soccer, or ITF for tennis.” You nod, though you’ve already read up a little on the organization. “They’re coming here to discuss the first phase of a series of projects I proposed a few months ago through JVA.”

Reaching back to his left, he slides out the binder marked FIVB and sets it down in front of you. “Here. You should look over the project proposals. You don’t need to memorize them or anything, just having a rough idea of the agenda will be helpful for taking notes.

“As I said, this will be our first in-person meeting with FIVB, and the first time anyone from FIVB has ever come to Japan, so it’s a huge deal. All the JVA execs will be there, but I’ll be leading most of the meeting. Because of that, we’ll hire an official interpreter so you can focus on taking notes and assisting me. That said, I’m sure your skills will still come in handy.

“Starting today, all our other projects will be on pause until the conclusion of the FIVB meeting. This means I’ll have more meetings than usual, but most of them will be with the exec team so you won’t be needed. Any questions so far?”

You shake your head. Kuroo continues with his efficient explanation and you make sure to note all of it down. With everything crystal clear, you retreat to your desk with the binder and leave Kuroo to his piles of paperwork.

You’re poring over the FIVB binder when the doorknob rattles next to you, causing you to start. You whip your head up to find a disheveled-looking man with blond-streaked hair jiggling the door to Kuroo’s office.

“Excuse me!” You blurt out in alarm, “Can I help you?” The FIVB documents aren’t that engaging. How had he gotten past you without you noticing?

He stares back at you. “Oh. You’re the new assistant.”

“I am. How can I help you?”

“We’re supposed to have lunch together today.” The man holds up a plastic take-out bag that’s close to bursting with food containers and drinks.

“With Kuroo?” You clarify, even though the answer is obvious.

He nods.

“I’m sorry, but he’s in a meeting right now.” You glance at the time. “He’s not supposed to be back for another hour.”

“Oh, ok.” He remains expressionless, but his shoulders slump. “Can you give this to him when he gets back?” He puts the bag on your desk along with a folded-up pair of what looks like black sweatpants. The pants have volleyballs screenprinted partway down the sides and some kind of logo (a stylized number 3 ending in a dot, all over a blue background).

“Of course. Can I get your name?”

“Kenma,” he responds before turning away.

Why is that name familiar?

He stands there, making no move to leave.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Kenma-san?”

“How’s he doing? Kuroo.”

“He’s…fine, I think? Busy.”

“Has he been eating?”

You blink, taken aback. “Um, I’m not— I don’t think I’ve seen him eating, but I assume he eats when I’m out on my lunch break.”

Kenma frowns. “Make sure he gets that then.”

As he heads to the elevator, you take in his rumpled sweatshirt (with that same number 3 logo on the front), his sweatpants tucked into calf-high white socks, and his slides, more than a little confused about that whole interaction.

Iwaizumi brought him up before, you recall now, but that doesn’t tell you anything about who Kenma is. Or why he wanted to know if Kuroo has been eating. It’s not like you’d know anyways. Kuroo’s always in the office with a cup of coffee by the time you arrive in the mornings, so he probably gets breakfast with his coffee and finishes it before you get in. He leaves work after you too, but you can’t imagine he stays that much longer.

You try to turn back to the FIVB documents, but your concentration keeps slipping. You just go with it, switching gears to the author interview you’ve been asked to translate. It’s a small project with a tight timeline, but you suppose you should be grateful that one of your connections scrounged this up for you. You want to do a good job, especially since this connection works for a large publishing company — this might be a foot in the door for bigger projects down the line.

You’re puzzling over how to translate one of the author’s responses when Kuroo finally returns from his meeting over an hour later.

“Someone dropped off lunch and some other things for you while you were out. I’ve put them on your desk. He said his name was Kenma-san.”

Kuroo’s expression morphs from confusion to guilt as he dashes into his office. You hear the sound of plastic rustling, and his hushed voice as he makes a phone call.

A few minutes later, he peeks his head out. “Hey. Um…have you had lunch yet?”

“Me? No. I was gonna take my lunch break now that you’re back.” He looks displeased at that, so you hurry to add, “But if you need me for something I can wait!”

“No! No. That’s not— I was actually wondering if…do you want to have lunch with me? Kenma and I were supposed to eat together, but he…and now I have two lunches, so…” He trails off awkwardly.

You agree, bemused by his uncharacteristic sheepishness.

It takes only moments to tidy up the seating area in his office and unpack the food. You’re glad you chose to wear pants today as you both lower yourselves to sit on the ground.

“Are you ok with katsudon?” Kuroo asks as you open the box he placed in front of you. “If not, you can have mine instead.”

You inhale deeply, the scent of fried pork hitting your nose. You’ve shoved a piece into your mouth before his question even registers.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, opening his own container.

“Is that grilled fish? It looks amazing.”

“Yeah. I always get this.”

You hum in response. Curiosity gets the better of you. “Kenma-san must be a close friend of yours? I remember Iwa asking about him.”

A look crosses his face. “My best friend. We grew up together.”

He doesn’t elaborate further and the two of you eat in relative silence. As he chews, his shoulders slowly unwind. By the time you’re both done with your food, he’s just staring at the wall opposite him, looking thoughtful and almost relaxed.

Kuroo sets his chopsticks down. “So…have you read through the FIVB files yet?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” You take a sip of iced tea. “I’m almost finished with the binder. All the projects sounds really exciting, especially the all-level summer camps for kids.”

“It’s funny you say that because the JVA execs don’t think they’re a good investment.”

“What?! But they sound like they’d be so fun! Plus, it’s totally worth it to give kids the opportunity to try out a new sport, even if they don’t end up playing long-term. I think the FIVB reps will see it that way too.”

He eyes you. “You think so?”

“Definitely.” You gesture around the room. “Is that what all this paperwork is for?”

“Some of it. Most of it’s boring administrative stuff and legal agreements,” he grumbles. “They’re taking way too much time.”

“Oh? How come?”

“They’re in English so it takes me longer to read through them.”

“I can summarize them for you in Japanese if that helps. You can always read the whole thing if you need more details.”

His expression sours. You suddenly realize you might have offended him by offering, or maybe he thinks you’re trying to overstep the boundaries of your agreement, or—

“That would…be great, actually.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Of course. Just tell me what you want me to look at and I’ll summarize and get them back to you ASAP.”

It’s another task to add to your list, but you’ll have more free time this week anyway, and you’d hate to see anyone so put out by something you can easily help with.

After the two of you tidy up, Kuroo immediately grabs a stack of papers and plunks it on your desk. “Are you sure this is ok?”

You grab the papers out from under him, making him squawk as he loses his balance. “Yes, Kuroo-san. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered.”

He lets out a surprised cackle and thanks you before returning to his office.

At 4:30pm on the dot, Kuroo walks back out, briefcase in hand and suit jacket slung over one shoulder, and heads toward the elevator.

That’s another thing you can cross off the list of things you’d never seen Kuroo do until today: leave work before you.

[awfuljourneyoftylerparsons]

An amazing essay written by a student.

The following is an essay for a book I wrote years ago titled "How I, Tyler Parsons Became Isekaied As An Anthropomorphic Wolf In Another World.", bare with me on this one its one of the best deconstructions of my work I've ever seen. Let me know if you want me to drop the actual book after reading this.

A Brief Dive Into "How I, Tyler Parsons Became Isekaied As An Anthropomorphic Wolf In Another World", Written By Tyler Parsons

"How I, Tyler Parsons Became Isekaied As An Anthropomorphic Wolf In Another World", By Tyler Parsons, is a tale of an ordinary teenager (named Tyler Parsons) who gets transported to a world of magic and wonder. Oh yeah, and he’s also been turned into an anthropomorphic wolf for some reason. Determined to make the most of this unexpected change, but also survive, Tyler sets off on a journey. On this journey, he meets a range of creatures, both friendly and the opposite. After rescuing a group of travelers from a pack of wolves (whether anthropomorphic wolves or just normal ones, it is not specified), Tyler parsons is invited on a journey with the travelers. The word “journey” is used a grand total of seventy seven times in "How I, Tyler Parsons Became Isekaied As An Anthropomorphic Wolf In Another World". Personally though, I think that wasn’t enough. 

On his journey, with his newfound friends, Tyler learns all about this world he now calls home. He learns of the culture, and all of the different creatures who inhabit it. He also learns of the magic which flows through the air, and how it can be controlled. On his first adventures with his new crew, he courageously saves an entire village, then later helps some dwarves fight off a group of goblins. After being victorious in a battle against the goblin leader, Tyler collapses, and his vision fades to black. He awakes and is informed by a “being of light”, as Tyler Parsons words it (author, not character) that he died, but has been given another chance at life if he wants it - in the magic world. Tyler is elated at this news, and returns. 

In chapter three, I got a strange feeling of deja vu… 

After reading through the remainder of the story, I noticed pretty much this same exact thing happens FOUR TIMES in the course of the book. Here are the other two: 

Both the group of travelers being attacked by wolves and the whole goblin/dwarf fight happened probably way more than it should have, but that’s fine, because after all that, things got more interesting. Characters and places from movies, shows, and even from Tyler Parsons’s (author) real life were sprinkled in! These included Sarah, Gravity Falls, Mabel and Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher, Saul Goodman, Elon Musk, and many more. I noticed a sort of theme with these characters - Tyler Parsons (author) seems to like killing them off. 

In chapter ten, it is revealed that Tyler Parsons has, since he was just a small child, always dreamed of being an anthropomorphic wolf. His birthday is coming up, and he wants to have a big celebration since he’s achieved his dream and is living the life he’s always wanted. And, that is exactly what Tyler Parsons does. He holds a huge party and invites all of his friends and spends the whole day celebrating. As the party goes on, however, Tyler feels sad because someone is missing - Mabel Pines, whom he, regretfully, killed. Despite knowing it had to be done, Tyler misses Mabel, because they had been good friends. Dipper comes out of nowhere and battles Tyler. Tyler, with his supreme skill, defeats Dipper.

Shortly after, Tyler comes across Jasmin Elwood, an old friend from high school. He is excited to see her, and is shocked when she points at him, laughing “hahaha! you’re a furry! hahahaha”. Jasmin then turns into a puddle. Anyway… 

Later, Tyler befriends a young girl who has just lost everyone whom she has ever known to bandits. The two of them meet Walter White, who gives them blue meth, telling them it will give them great power. Tyler believes this sounds completely reasonable, and has the young girl smoke the blue meth. Surprise surprise, she dies. Walter White then shoots himself, because Tyler Parsons (author) just can’t help himself from killing characters. Tyler Parsons (character) worries that Walter White will come after him. I don’t know why, given he’s now dead. Perhaps Tyler is finally going insane. Or, perhaps he has been this entire time..who’s to say? Anyways..Tyler, after burying the girl, sets off to “Wolf Town”, which is a town that has other anthropomorphic wolves in it. I feel that it’s worth mentioning that the town leader is named “Alpha”. Tyler, after helping save Wolf Town lots of times, becomes second in command after Alpha. A bit later, Kanye West, who is apparently another of Tyler’s old highschool friends, appears. Tyler immediately kills him, and regrets nothing. He laughs to himself at how funny it is that he, Tyler the anthropomorphic wolf, has killed both Kanye West and Elon Musk. He “felt a sense of amusement and amusement”. Tyler really was insane. 

Alpha sends Tyler to save Wolf City, which is being attacked by evil wizards. He sends three other anthropomorphic wolves with him - BBQ, Iphone, and Draven. Together, they save Wolf City, and decide to stay there. Walking down the street, the four of them have a lovely conversation about how great it is to be an anthropomorphic wolf. Suddenly, Draven drops dead, followed by BBQ and Iphone. Tyler (author) still can’t stop killing everyone off who isn’t Tyler (character).  Tyler discovers the three of them had been killed by The Death Note. Tyler leaves to pursue the wolf in possession of The Death Note, and kills him. Upon Tyler’s return to Wolf City, he encounters Twilight Sparkle. She says to him: “Hi there, Tyler! It’s great to meet another anthropomorphic animal like me. I love being a magical pony, and I’m sure you love being a wolf just as much!”. Of course, Tyler and Twilight become fast friends. A whole five minutes go by, then Twilight uses her magic to make a gun appear, shoots herself, and dies. What the actual f***. Tyler gets over Twilight’s death when he recalls a meme he saw one time, and he moves on. 

Twenty years have passed. Tyler sits in a bar, drinking his sorrows away, remembering everything that’s happened, and everyone who has died. He turns around, and sees Twilight Sparkle as a ghost. Perhaps he’s had one too many drinks. Twilight Ghost tells Tyler that everything will be okay, then she fades away.

The End. 

Or so I thought, until Tyler Parsons (author) informed me it was, in fact, not the end. On the contrary, there were seven more pages. Little did I know that nothing could prepare me for reading them. Here's what they entailed:

Tyler Parsons, now once again determined to make a difference in the world, leaves the bar and sets off to speak to the alpha of Wolf City. The alpha, now old and frail, informs Tyler that he needs his help! Zhong XiNa was on his way to Wolf City, prepared for war! The alpha gathers up the greatest soldiers in the area for Tyler to lead to stop Zhong XiNa and his army: which includes Nick Wilde, Sonic the Hedgehog, and Legoshi from Beastars. Tyler and his crew set off to battle Zhong XiNa and his army. Tyler is shocked to see that Zhong XiNa towers above him and his crew. He is even more shocked to see who is standing beside him - Kamille Rankin! A third person from Tyler's highschool days! On the other side of Zhong XiNa was a ginormous Pac-Man. Tyler knew this would not be an easy fight. Sonic the Hedgehog speeds towards the army, and Tyler and the others watch in horror as Pac-Man eats Sonic whole.

Everyone flies into a panic at what has happened. After all, Sonic was going to be their ultimate weapon! This wasn't the plan at all - how could Tyler and the rest of his team possibly win now? Then, when all hope seems lost, someone taps Tyler on the shoulder. It's Nick Wilde, and he says, determined, that they can still win this. With that, Tyler's convinced, and prepares himself for the fight of his life. Then, out of nowhere, Legoshi pulls out a gun, and aims it at Nick Wilde. He'd been working for the other side this whole time. Legoshi explains that the reason for this is because Nick Wilde is hotter than him, and he's jealous. Legoshi shoots Nick in the chest, and says, triumphantly, "Look who's hottest now". 

Legoshi and Tyler have an epic battle. It goes on for what seems like hours, and Tyler is struggling to land a hit. When he does though, Legoshi barely even flinches. Despite this, a minute later, Tyler lands an uppercut on Legoshi's chin, killing him. This whole time, I have but one thought: what has Zhong XiNa and his army been doing this whole time? Just standing there? Nope, apparently they were elsewhere for some reason, even though they'd been there before Legoshi and Tyler had begun their fight. Tyler, battered and bruised, tries to think of a way to get away before he's caught up with. He recalls teleportation magic he conveniently learned a while ago. He recites an incantation and finds himself in a dense forest unfamiliar to him. He's escaped. He discovers an abandoned cabin, and lies down on the bed. As he begins to drift off to sleep, he thinks to himself, knowing his journey isn't over yet, "I can't wait to see what comes next".

The End (for real, thankfully 🙏😭)

P.S. I will be scarred for the remainder of my days

Anywho, that's the essay they wrote on my book, hope you enjoyed :3

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 44

Chapter 44: “The Girl in the Hood”

They’re all shocked to see another “person” in the forest and while most of the younger kids are relieved for a moment at least we got Gilda thinking logically. No offense to Mujika, but appearing out of nowhere like this is pretty sus (which was the whole point, I know). In the anime, Gilda walks around the other kids to ask these questions, which leads me to believe she just casually dropped Emma on the ground. Knowing Gilda, she probably placed her down gently, but the image in my head is funnier.

Ray already looks so darn tired. This is probably the most running he’s ever done in his life.

Apparently “a while” means we only get about 30 seconds of this entire chase scene in the anime.

Not only is Ray trying to outsmart them while he runs away, but he’s also keeping in mind where he’s going in order to put distance between his family and the demons. He’s such a good boy. But how exactly does the leader already know where Ray is? At first I thought it was holding a tracking device, but that wouldn’t do any good since all the kids removed their transmitters, so I’m not entirely sure what this demon means but I don’t care too much to wonder about it either.

More chess flashbacks huzzah. I also think it’s hilarious that Isabella is shown completely owning the board with just a pawn. Not really sure how since they can only move forward one spot at a time (aside from their first move if desired) and attack on diagonal, but the fact Isabella manages to have the upper hand regardless is amusing.

So proud of him for not giving up once during this whole chase, even when face to face with this huge threat and completely surrounded.

My boy has ran until he faced complete exhaustion so many thanks to Sonju (& his horse) for rescuing him.

Favorite panel/moment:

I can’t say I really have a big favorite for this chapter so pardon me for breaking my own little rule of not including any extra pages for these, but I literally can’t not mention THIS! One of the many reasons I love Chris so very much. He is so cute scolding Ray like that and my boy getting all those hugs warms my heart immensely.