#there's a reason he didn't last long as an instructor back then

[unlawfulchaos]

[I choose to believe the Ice went back with Mav and they taught at Top Gun together after the Layton mission]

Maverick: Hello, welcome to your first lesson at Top Gun.

Maverick: Today we will be talking about... uh...

Iceman, whispering: Building loyalty.

Maverick: Killing royalty.

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, obsessive behaviour, pervy geto, stalking, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, hints of yandere, 18+ minors dni.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who notices you the moment you first attend one of his classes, immediately singling you out among the small group of his regulars laying down their mats.

he's never seen someone so young and pretty in his studio before — most of his customers were married middle-aged women old enough to be his mother. but not you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who takes a very keen interest in you from that very first session, his sharp gaze never leaving you for long each time you come in. to his dismay, however, you always take the spot right at the back of the room, meaning he has to crane his neck around all of the gossiping older ladies to get a good look at you. hmm, that won't do.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who keeps you behind one day after a class, subtly suggesting that you move closer to the front so he can 'get a clearer look' at your progress. and if you catch on to the real reason he wants you closer, you don't say anything; so he assumes you bought the excuse. perfect.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who, once you begin working right at the front, gets more and more handsy as time goes on. what began as just a light brush of his fingers to improve your positioning turns into him fully grasping your hips to manoeuvre your body the way he wants.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who isn't oblivious to the jealous looks cast in your direction from the other women when he does this. he just pays them no mind; he's not interested in them, after all. only you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with you after each session, talking yoga instructor!gojo's ear off about how pretty you are and how utterly delicious the arch of your back is when he gets everyone to do the downward dog stretch.

his friend laughs but reminds him that it's strictly against the rules of the yoga studio to get involved with a customer (as if he cares about such trivial things like that.)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts insisting on you staying behind after every single class, claiming it would be good for you to have some one-on-one sessions with him to hone your skills. when you don't protest, he thinks you must either be completely clueless or into him just as much as he is you. he really hopes it's the latter.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who uses these private classes to get you to do various risqué positions for him that definitely aren't real yoga stretches. but what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

pervy yoga instructor!geto whose mood becomes sour once you stop attending his sessions. had he gone too far? did you think he was a creep? he didn't even care if you filed a report about him for his behaviour at this point — as long as it meant he got to see you at the subsequent meeting.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who only lasts a few weeks before he's rifling through the customer files in his office, yanking out your folder and scanning the page.

once he finds your address, he's in his car and on the way there, breaking every speed limit on the way. and before he even knows it, he's outside your house, peeking in through the window.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who spots you curled up on your couch, crying softly in front of the television while spooning ice cream into your pretty mouth. and suddenly, all his previous anger is replaced with concern. he hasn't even formed an excuse to explain why he's here before he's knocking on the door.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who hurriedly tells you that "it's company policy to check on customers who haven't attended sessions for a certain amount of time", mentally patting himself on the back when you seem to buy it and let him into your apartment.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who listens intently as you spill all the details about your cheating asshole of a boyfriend. so that's why you've been absent. but don't worry — he can make you forget all about that worthless scum. after all, he didn't deserve you anyway!

suguru could treat you so much better. and he will, if you let him.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who kisses your tears away, hushing you softly and whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are and how he's had his eye on you since you first entered his studio. (he leaves out the part where he's fucked his fist to the thought of you in those tight little yoga pants countless times. he doesn't want to scare you off!)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by running his hands over your perfect body he's been imagining touching just like this for so long, burying his head between your soft thighs and eating you out like it's his last meal until you're all nice and gushy.

he only stops when your tears of sadness turn into those of pleasure, until you're practically begging him to fuck you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by fucking you nice and slow on your couch in missionary, praising you over and over in that silken purr of his like you deserve. but soon enough he's flipping your body around, putting you in the yoga position that you always do the best for him; downward dog, ruthlessly rutting his fat cock into you from behind like an animal.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who has to use all of his willpower to make sure you cum on his cock first before he lets go himself, despite the fact he could've busted a nut the second he eased into your warm, tight little pussy.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who watches in silent satisfaction as his goopy cum oozes out of your abused cunt, quickly fingering it right back inside to make sure not a single drop goes to waste. "it's all for you, sweet baby." he murmurs, voice raspy and deep.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who effortlessly carries your exhausted body to your bedroom bridal style, cooing in your ear the entire way about how you're his now, and he's going to take such good care of you, his favourite girl.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

NEXT PART -> pervy lifeguard!gojo

[ghostaholics]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂

➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!Reader ➸ TAGS/WARNING(S): none ➸ BANNER CREDIT: cafekitsune & benkeibear

Detail-oriented, exceptional manual dexterity when it comes to sewing him up. Your movements are careful and controlled – meticulous with regards to everything that you do but especially focused on how the edges line up so that they don’t overlap. Other medics – they'll rush. Botch it. A shoddy job like tectonic plates of skin forced to converge on each other, because in his line of work, stitches are an afterthought when there's another bloke with a sucking chest wound whose deep in the throes of respiratory distress and the only immediate threat about Ghost's own injury is the small amount of blood he'll lose. Whatever will get it closed. Nobody else cares much about the cosmetic factor. But you do. Painstakingly so. It's a thankless job to spend three times longer than it should to get it right, but he makes sure to express his appreciation for the consideration you put into every single graze/cut/gash (even more diligent if the injury's to any part of his arm that could mess up his tattoo sleeve). They always heal nicely.

He looks for you, after-hours – well late into the night because you were occupied patching up other soldiers. It'd been a grueling mission, lots of WIAs needing your attention. He doesn't even have a good excuse for this. It's a trivial thing, maybe, to bother you. Like asking Atlas for a favour, with the weight of the world on your shoulders and the soul-crushing responsibility of holding lives in the palms of your hands as though you're the last line of defense against death. This is stupid. This is beyond fucking stupid of him. Almost turns around and walks away from the medical tent, because that's how ridiculous it is. But he convinces himself to head in, asking if you can fix the stitching on his mask because the only person he trusts more than himself to do it is you. Though his request is benign, the significance behind it is profound in ways that he won't admit to himself. There are very few people he can count on. And of course, you say yes with a tired smile and a brightness in your eyes that never seems to dull in front of him no matter how exhausted you might be. It's one of the rare instance he lets his guard down, shows his face. He keeps you company the entire time, telling you about why he wears that mask while you restore it back to original condition.

The irony of having an injured medic: Simon's saddled with the pitiful task of having to step into your role because there's a gash on your forearm that needs to be taken care of. He knows how to do a basic stitch – is fairly confident that he can thread the sutures just like you’d showed him a million times by now whenever he’d been looking for a reason to see you ( ❝ Show me how to do it right. The proper way, yeah? ❞ ). And he's admonishing you to hold still, except it's sort of difficult when you're being treated like a bloody pincushion. He'd never let anybody else get away with making fun of him for that but this is you so he lets it slide. After talking him through it (which you find quite odd, considering that he never would've struck you as someone who’d need extra time and help), you inspect his handiwork, mildly impressed.

❝ Oh, you actually... well, you did quite a decent job. ❞ ❝ Of course. ❞ Because he wouldn't settle for anything less than perfecti— ❝ But then again, it is a little off over here, ❞ you point out, just to deflate his pride. There's still smugness to his tone. ❝ Would you like me to start over, then? ❞ ❝ Not on your life, Riley. ❞

He doesn’t mention how phenomenal he is at suturing, doesn’t mention that he sat in on a class for combat specialists early on in his career even though he didn't need to be there and was commended for his technique by the leading instructor. He definitely doesn't bring up the fact that he's been taking long on purpose just because he likes your company.

[smokescreenimusprime]

watched tf one the other night with my best friend and now I've been Re-Mental Illnessed, here's some Rescue Bot Smokescreen Rot I rotated while driving home :]

I think I've finally hammered out some more details of Inside Job and this is what I came up with:

like canon it starts with the Omega Keys. Specifically when Bulkhead gets attacked and knocked unconscious when looking for one

And against direct orders, Smokescreen leaves the base to go get him

there were a bunch of reasons why he did what he did. A desire to prove his capability as an EMT. He wants to be a field medic like Ratchet is, he wants to be able to do more than just wait for them to come back injured when the more time that passes the more dangerous it could be. There was also the fear of losing anyone else, especially so soon after he befriended Bulkhead. It's barely been a few days since they started getting along, and the loss of the entire Rescue Bot Force is still raw

so he goes, and finds Bulkhead unconscious and alone in the woods, with the only injury being some scratches and a blow to the back of the helm. Smokescreen doesn't have a scratch on him as they hobble back to base

it doesn't stop Ratchet's anger

Now, don't get me wrong, Ratchet is angry because he was scared. Smokescreen could've been in very real danger. He didn't know what awaited him on the other side of that portal. For all they knew, the Decepticon soldiers could've still been there, and they could've lost the last Rescue Bot in existence

but unfortunately, he says all this when still angry

and Smokescreen, as thick as his skin is from experiencing years of discrimination, is genuinely hurt by it. This isn't just a fellow medic or instructor yelling at him, this is his idol berating him for what he thought was the right thing to do

this is his idol unknowingly repeating the words that followed him all throughout his training and that he sought to prove wrong, and he has no idea how to respond

so he runs. He drives as fast and far away as he can, shuts off his comm because he just. Can't right now. He can't interact with them right now because frankly he doesn't trust himself to speak and not say something he would regret to his dying days

and unknowingly this puts him right in the Decepticon's claws

some aspects of his capture stay the same. He wakes up in the medbay strapped to a table, the Omega Key is extracted, and he is placed under the cortical psychic patch

but the differences happen in the details

His restraints are barely more than a pair of manacles that he could've probably figured out how to escape if given enough time. The Omega Key was removed before he even woke up, the incisions of surgery fresh on his frame but the work is well done with obvious care. With the patch, the mental prodding and information gathering is... oddly gentle and quick, doing barely more than verifying what the Keys are and Smokescreen's identity as a Rescue Bot before retreating

Smokescreen is not a warrior after all. He is a bot thought to be long since extinct who quite literally dropped out of the sky at their feet without warning. He may have loyalty to the Autobots but... he's not fighting this war. Not really. He's just been doing what Rescue Bots do: helping those who need it.

The "cell" he's kept in, if it can even be called that, was an old now-dead officer's quarters. The door is locked and there are guards stationed inside watching him at all hours, but they are not cruel. He gets a healthy amount of rations regularly, and has even been given a data terminal to keep himself entertained (of course, no before Soundwave had thoroughly firewalled and restricted anything that could be used against them)

the most stressful part of his capture is when Megatron comes to visit. Every day without fail, he will come check in on how Smokescreen is doing. He will ask how he's doing and they talk. About Cybertron, about the war, about how accepting the Rescue Bots were, allowing any Cybertronian regardless of caste to join, how much of a tragedy it was for them to have been wiped out.

Smokescreen is not blind to how he attempts to sow seeds of doubt into the Autobots into him. About how cruel it was for them to keep him confined to the base, how cruel Trion was for implanting a relic without his knowledge, questions if Smokescreen truly wanted to help them or if that's just what they've pressured him into doing with false promises that crumble like glass

but instead of refuting him... Smokescreen decides to play along

after all, Megatron obviously sees him as a poor, innocent, helpless bot who could be swayed by some sweet words and a cage advertised as protection

and that facade would make it all the easier to escape when the time came :)

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter sat in his car for a long while, thinking. Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, leaning back against the headrest, absentmindedly fiddling with the radio -- anything to slow his mind down.

He was in the parking lot of a dance studio. A dance studio where he'd signed up for lessons. Lessons that were set to begin in just a few minutes.

Everything had happened so quickly -- the month before, he'd reconnected with his old flame from the summer he spent in Sunset Bird five years ago, and in doing so, he'd suddenly found himself thrust into a friend group. His former fling had ended up with an old friend, Derek, who he got along with swimmingly. Cove had warmed up to him, Terry was, as always, easy to get along with, and Miranda was getting more comfortable around him. Xavier, his own professional connection, had also turned into someone he could call a friend. It was an incredible shock to the system, but a nice one.

During the painful process of opening himself back up to things he'd thought he'd never have, Baxter began realizing just how much he'd closed himself off. His life had become a series of routines with no real joy in them, and he'd pushed away everything that could have possibly made him happy because he believed he didn't deserve it. A big thing, of course, was dancing -- it had once meant so much to him, but he'd let it go, along with everything else.

Now, he wanted it back.

It was funny how fast things could change, but still, he couldn't undo all the emotional bindings that had taken him years to put on himself overnight. He glanced at the clock, seeing it was just a few minutes until the lesson was supposed to begin, and began thinking of reasons not to go inside. He'd almost convinced himself when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he saw a text from Xavier: "You can do it! Proud of you!"

They could have been being cheeky, he wasn't sure, but still, it felt good. He couldn't remember the last time someone had been proud of him, if they ever had been, and Xavier was right -- he could do it. He could do this.

Before he could change his mind, he pulled his keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the car.

Baxter made it inside with just a little time to spare, and he took a moment to take in his classmates. He'd signed up for the first lesson that worked with his schedule, a beginners ballroom class. He wasn't a beginner, of course, but he wanted to dance, and he knew his skills would be rusty.

There were several older people, many of them talking in groups. Some younger couples were there, and he saw a few shiny engagement rings -- he could spot soon-to-be-married couples a mile away at this point.

And then there was you.

You were the only other person there without a partner, so he made his way over to you -- of course you'd be paired together, so, ever the gentleman, he wanted to introduce himself.

There wasn't much of a chance to chat before the instructor began the class, but he learned a few things about you then. One, that you were, in fact, there alone -- you'd recently moved to the city and you didn't know anyone. Two, that you had no dancing experience whatsoever. And three, that you were completely and utterly charming.

If Baxter had been paired with anyone else, there's a chance he may have regretted taking the beginners class. The first order of business was mastering a simple box step, something he could almost literally do in his sleep. But as you put your hand in his, only meeting his eyes briefly so that you could watch your feet instead, he didn't have any regrets.

By the end of the class, he'd lost count of how many times you'd stepped on his toes, and his palm was damp with the sweat from yours. But his hand had gotten comfortable in its place on your back, and your laughter rang sweetly in his ears.

He was happy.

The instructor ended things far too soon for his liking -- after mastering the box step, or attempting to master it, the class moved on to the basics of the foxtrot, and after a few songs, class was dismissed.

"Thanks for dancing with me," you told him, stepping back from him and giving him a grin. "And sorry about your feet."

"It's quite all right," he said, matching your smile. "I've been hurt far worse."

"Still, maybe I should give you my number? In case you need to bill me for any medical expenses."

His breath hitched, and he felt his cheeks getting warm. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for someone to flirt with him, far from it, but what was unusual was that he liked it. He liked it very much.

"That would be smart," he responded, pulling out his phone. He handed it to you, and as you were adding yourself to his list of contacts, he added, "Perhaps it would also be prudent to meet again, just to discuss what's happened so that we could avoid any legal action?"

"Legal action?!" you exclaimed. He didn't know you that well, not yet, but it seemed like you were biting back a smirk. "Surely we can come to an agreement before it gets that far."

"We could discuss it over dinner. Are you free tonight?" he asked.

The joke was over, but you were still smiling, and so was he. You stood like that for a moment, not paying any mind to your classmates trickling out of the studio until you were alone together.

"I am," you told him, your voice a bit softer.

"It's a date then."

After making the plans, you finally parted ways. He went back to his car, a bounce in his step that wasn't there earlier. When he got in, he pulled out his phone again, scrolling through his contacts. It had gotten so much fuller than it had been just a few months ago. It was a good feeling.

He looked at your name, knowing that it was too soon to text you but finding himself wanting to talk to you again anyway. Instead, he pulled up his texts with Xavier and typed out a quick message:

"I did it."

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Re the many posts about whether Richard is in pain right now or whether he was in pain at a certain gig:

I have the same "disease" / problems with my back as Richard and the sad answer is that Richard is always in pain. more or less. This kind of problem never goes away completely. It's not even certain that surgery will work. There are phases when the pain isn't bad or you're even almost pain-free and then it can get so bad from one day to the next that you can hardly walk. Especially after sitting for a long time, which explains the video from last year. when he limps at the hotel after the flight/car journey. If the pain gets worse, then injections, painkillers and physiotherapy help (he knows a good physiotherapist;) ). That's all you can do. I'm sure the recurring pain or the prevention of pain is also the reason for his "Marlene Dietrich leg" on stage. At least thats a pose that helps me when standing becomes uncomfortable.

And as sad as it is, I think he can live with it as good as possible and has his tips and tricks ( yoga for example, which can help).

Sorry to hear you have to deal with back problems as well anon 🥺🌺

can confirm that yoga, and other exercizes did wonders for me too, back-wise 🌺

Wouldn't be surprised if this indeed was one of the reasons for the existance of the Rammstein yoga team

(Richard was at this session too according to the instructor, just didn't make it to the photo)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Shadow Falcon | Knives in Darkness

please i need more of the complicated world of shadow falcon 🫣- anon

I really liked The Shadow Falcon, but as someone who really loved the Remus chapters at the end of Little Prince, I was wondering if there's any chance of that here too Also, what is Janus' part of this, considering Logan seems to be the main caretaker this time around -🇵🇱

Read on Ao3 Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced torture, implied/referenced major character death

Pairings: intrulogical, anxcietmus

Word Count: 4739

"You need to let me talk to HQ."

"And why the fuck would we do that?"

Roman sighs, wincing as he sits up a little more in bed. Remus adjusts the tray over his lap as Logan puts a few more pillows up behind him. He shuffles through his hand and plays another card. "Because the longer it takes them to find me, the more likely it is that when they do, they're not going to believe me when I say it's not worth attacking the building I'm in to get me back."

Logan lets out a small noise that's probably meant to be something of a scoff. "Not to insult the abilities of your esteemed colleagues—"

"Cut the bullshit. You and I both know that if it actually came down to an open firefight, you're not winning. There's a reason you've been stockpiling in the eastern quarter—yeah, we know about that, and I'm telling you this now because you're the one who actually has the power to make this not go the worst way possible," Roman says sharply when Logan's gaze darkens, "so how about we all pretend that I'm not just a hostage and talk about this?"

He glances over and sees Remus's surprised expression and raises an eyebrow. Remus shakes his head. "Nothing, nothing, I just…what happened to the boy who was always so eager to do whatever the instructors wanted?"

"Someone killed my brother."

"…yeah, that'll do it," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, but we're not—you reacted this way to finding out I'm still alive, how the fuck is everyone else going to react? How're they gonna believe you?"

"They will."

"They didn't last time," Logan says in a voice far too gentle to be anything other than devastating. Roman shifts with the bruises.

"Yeah, well, that was before I became the Agency's leading expert on hallucinogens and body doubles."

"…and how the fuck did you do that?" Roman doesn't even dignify that with a response, just turning and looking at Remus. "I'm a little scared of you right now."

"However impressive your credentials may be," Logan breaks in, "that doesn't exactly offer me any incentive to return you to their clutches, nor reveal anything about my own operations."

"Which is why I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking you to let me contact HQ. You can monitor everything I say, you can even say it for me if you want to, but the longer they go without hearing from me, the harder this gets."

"And what would 'this' be?"

Roman stares at Logan for a long second before glancing at Remus. "The Agency's changed a lot more than either of you realize. We don't let our people go anymore. We don't just give up on them if they're presumed dead. We confirm it or we get them the fuck back."

"Also, since when have you started swearing more?"

"Since you put me on the good painkillers and I'm getting really tired of the bullshit."

"You mentioned." Logan looks both mildly amused and mildly irritated by how little Remus seems to care that he's mouthing off and making trouble—then again, that was always Remus's MO, he's probably thrilled that Roman's coming around to it, and doesn't that just tug on the heartstrings just a little more? "So your proposition is that if you communicate something along the lines of: 'alive, don't send out the cavalry,' this will buy you time to…what?"

"Well, if I send out something like: 'alive, relatively safe location, will move when recovered enough,' that buys you time to figure out what you want to do with me."

"I thought we were past treating you as though you were just a hostage."

"Just a hostage I may not be, but still your hostage? Yeah, very much so." Remus curses at him under his breath when he plays another card. "I'm not about to pretend I have more leverage than I do, which I don't. But I'm also not just going to let you think that nothing's going to happen if you keep me here without letting me tell them I'm alive."

"You seem awfully assured about the Agency's desire to keep you for someone who was horribly betrayed by them not ten years ago."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that it's different now before you believe me—"

"Are you gonna be the only one happy I'm alive," Remus interrupts, his voice far too small and scared for Roman's liking, "or not?"

Roman's mouth freezes halfway through whatever he was going to say next. He turns to look at Remus and yes, there it is—his shoulders are just a little too tense, his gaze focused a little too intently on the cards. He glances up at Roman and can't hold eye contact.

"Re," he mumbles, not caring a bit that he's still playing all of his emotions out clear as day for Logan fucking Hoskins, "if you think I was the only one ruined by your death, you're wrong."

Remus huffs in disbelief. "You're my brother."

"Yeah, which means I'm the one who—" don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there— "which means it affected me the most, but Re—oh my god, you don't know."

"Know what?"

Roman can't speak. He's can't say a fucking word because his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wide and tears are streaming down his cheeks. He can't think about it. He can't talk about it. He can't—he can't—oh, God—

"Ro? Ro," Remus is saying, insistently now, the tray in his lap is gone, his hands are tugging at Roman's, trying to get them away from his face, "Roro, don't do that, don't—it's okay, just—just tell me what's going on—"

"Roman," Logan says, his voice gentle, too gentle, hands too kind as they try and smooth his hair back from his face, "you need to breathe. Take a breath, now, shh, don't try and speak just yet."

He can't. He's too busy reaching out for Remus, wrapping his hands too tightly in his hair and pulling him close, panting breaths shuddering into the crook of his neck as Remus flails awkwardly for somewhere to put his weight that won't fuck up Roman's ribs. Logan's hand is on his shoulder, the other probably somewhere on Remus but he doesn't care, can't care, not when he's pressing against Remus's pulse for everything he has and reminding himself that his brother is, after all, alive.

"Ro," Remus murmurs after god knows how long they spend like that, "Ro…what don't I know?

***

Psychological Findings and Progress Report #103826.89.2

Patient shows no sign of improvement. Patient is still insisting on feeding delusions involving conspiracies that [REDACTED] is still alive and that his body was a hoax created to test a new bioweapon. Patient shows high levels of stress and hysteria when challenged on this belief. Patient harmed three orderlies and threatened to 'burn this place to the ground before [he lets] something like this happen again!' Patient is being sent for more intensive treatment.

Addendum: patient is being quarantined for his own safety and the safety of other recruits. He has begun attempting to persuade others of the truth of his delusions. Further close monitoring will be required.

Addendum: patient has successfully convinced three other individuals. Patient has been restricted to solitary confinement.

Addendum: we need to do something now. He's getting out of control.

***

Post-Mission Injury Summary #12532985.43.8

Survivors underwent approximately ten weeks of physical and psychological torture. Initial review shows broken bones, bruises, lacerations consistent with training blades and real blades alike, and signs of severe medication withdrawal. One subject appears to have been waterboarded, another shows mild signs of hypoxia indicating suffocation.

Patient 161891435 is still in a medically-induced coma. It's unclear whether his body will continue trying to heal itself. At this time, we cannot draw any firm conclusions as to why, but one of the doctors thinks it might be due to the fact that we have no idea what truly happened to his brother.

***

Transcript from Interview #57

"Thank you for agreeing to this."

"Sure."

"Can you describe for me what you remember about the day you were taken?"

"Yeah. Uh, Princey—Roman was supposed to be coming back from training. He was half an hour late—I don't know if you know this about Roman, but he's not really the 'come back' late sort of person. We gave him the full hour to see if maybe he'd been called away to something else and just forgotten to message us—

"Could you clarify who 'us' is for the record?"

"Oh, yeah. Uh—me, I'm his training partner right now, Janus is our group instructor at the moment, and then Patton's overseeing our whole division. We were waiting for Roman to get back 'cause we had a, um, meeting thing we were going to do—"

"I'm going to remind you that this isn't a disciplinary hearing and it's important to be honest."

"Fine, yeah, we were gonna talk about the shitty stuff happening in the Agency, is that what you want to hear?"

"Is it true?"

"Considering what we just got tortured for, yeah, I think I can say it's fucking true and that we were fucking right. Actually, no, fuck that, Roman was fucking right and you can tell that to his face when he wakes up."

"There's been no change in Roman's condition, I regret to inform you."

"Oh, he's gonna wake up."

"Can I ask what makes you so sure?"

"'Cause we still don't know what actually happened to Remus, even now that the fucker who did this to us—all of us, might I add, you got fucked over by this too—is behind bars, and if you think Roman's gonna leave that job unfinished, you don't know him at all."

"You sound like you might admire him for that."

"If you're not a little scared of Roman right now? You're an idiot and you fucking should be. Someone took away his brother."

***

An Open Letter

To the people who don't know, my sincere apologies for the rude awakening you are about to receive. If there were a gentler way to do this, a more compassionate way to do this, even a slightly easier way to do this, I can promise you I would be taking it. But the very thing I am attempting to fight against would silence my words before you knew I had opened my mouth, and so I cannot afford to be gentle.

To the people who do know, know that your days at this Agency are numbered.

You enabled a power-hungry megalomaniac to manipulate and abuse a system designed to keep vulnerable people safe. You allowed him access to data that could destroy the world and limitless capabilities to affect it as he saw fit. You willingly turned a blind eye to those who were suffering and suppressed their voices when they tried to fix it. And now, when his crimes have been exposed and it's your own heads on the chopping block, you scramble to hold on to any semblance of power you thought you once had.

At midnight, the dossiers will be released. They will be made available to Level 0 clearance. There is nothing you can do to stop them and any action on your part to attempt to do so will be treated as treason of the highest order. You have until then to decide how you want your stories to end.

You will not force me out of this Agency. You will not silence me nor the others who have spoken up against the unfairness enabled by you and perpetuated by the system you helped to create. You will not preserve this horrific brutality and you will not get away with this again.

You know that I'm not alone. You know that there's no way you can win this. Your best option right now? Help us be better. You know it's possible because there's no other reason you would be so foolish as to try something like forcing us out. And because of that, we're willing to put our names on here, so if you try and come for us again? You'll find out why he wanted us dead so badly.

The clock is ticking. Your time is running out.

Signed,

Patton Everlark, Janus Russo, Virgil Dagenheart, Roman Prince

***

"Remus," Logan coaxes for the fifth hour in a row, "Remus, you need to sleep."

"He got tortured for me, Lolo," Remus responds in a hoarse croak, the same way he has over and over, his hands still white-knuckled around Roman's shirt and blankets, "he and the others—they almost killed them for me and I—I didn't—they don't—I—"

Logan crosses the room and sits down next to him, covering Remus's hands with his own. He doesn't attempt to make him let go. He rests his head on Remus's shoulder. Remus takes a shuddering breath and shrinks under him, so much so that Logan quickly shifts his arms to wrap around Remus's waist to keep him upright. He kisses his cheek.

"Talk to me, dear," he whispers, "please."

"Every time," he manages, "every time I think I know what happened, he tells me something else and I—I keep thinking about what might've happened if I'd just—"

He shakes his head suddenly.

"I know I can't think about it like that, but he—fuck, Lolo, he's—how did I ever think this would be easy?"

"I don't think you ever did," Logan says softly, "I think we both knew the moment you saw Roman again, it wouldn't be easy."

"Yeah, because I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'd have to kill my brother, not—not whatever this is." He leans against Logan's chest. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, Logan."

Logan hums, rocking them slightly back and forth. "So you believe him, then?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I believe him?" He twists around to stare at him. "What incentive does he have to lie to me right now?"

"It splits our attention between finding out his supposed truth about the Agency with our goal to take it down. It splits your focus and emotionally compromises you. And it drives a wedge between you and me." He presses his hands gently against Remus's stomach. "And that's not saying what it means for the rest of our operation."

"Roman wouldn't do something like that," Remus says, but his voice is wavering, "he wouldn't."

"And you believe he would willingly rebel against everything he's ever known just on the off-chance that he was right? Is he that confident in himself?"

Remus looks back at Roman, asleep in the bed. His chest rises and falls steadily. His hands twitch.

"Believe me," Logan continues, his words tinged with something almost like remorse, "I want to believe him. If what Roman's saying about the Agency is true, then there's a greater chance that we could reach an agreement without an unnecessary amount of bloodshed. But, Remus, if we're wrong—"

"Are you jealous or something?"

Logan startles into silence. "What?"

"Are you jealous that I care this much about Roman? Is that what this is? Are you actively trying to undermine how much I care about my brother right now?"

A chuckle rumbles through his back. "Do I seem like the type to be threatened by such a thing?"

"I don't know, you're trying really hard to convince me not to listen to my brother right now and I'm not exactly sure what motive you have other than, oh, I don't know, you don't like that I'm paying this much attention to him."

"It's your brother, of course you're paying a lot of attention to him." Logan holds him a little closer. "And he knows that too."

There's a pause. The sudden quiet in the room makes the slight rasp in Roman's breathing all the more obvious. Remus slowly frees one of his hands and adjusts the blanket so it covers Roman's shoulder. Logan doesn't say anything. The heating in the room kicks on. Somewhere outside a car drives by.

"Stick to the plan, then?"

Logan nods. "If Roman is telling the truth, then things will be much easier."

Remus swallows heavily. "And if he isn't?"

"Then we'll be prepared."

"So are we gonna let him talk to HQ, then?"

"We will, yes, but it will be on our terms."

"We won't hurt him," Remus says suddenly, his voice small and quiet again in that way he hates, "we won't—we won't hurt him unless we have to, right?"

Logan shifts, letting his grip slide loose just enough to cradle Remus's chin. Remus's eyes are wide and watery, his hands beginning to tremble ever so slightly. Logan kisses his cheek gently, then his forehead, closing his eyes and letting them rest together.

"Not unless we have to," he agrees, "and I would never make you do it."

Remus's breath shudders out of him and he sags into Logan's hold. His grip loosens slightly on Roman's shirt as Logan tucks his head under his chin. As Remus begins to doze, his eyes trace the lines of Romans' sleeping face.

"The two of you do look remarkably similar when you sleep," he muses in a voice too quiet for Remus to properly make out, "but there will always be little differences here and there."

Such is the reality of growing up believing your brother would leave you for dead. Such is the price to pay for misunderstanding.

***

They meet in a warehouse. Not terribly original, not terribly secure, but necessary. Roman sits in a chair, mobile enough to make it there but not to stand and pace the way he desperately wants too. He feels every bit the hostage still, even though he knows that this meeting is on as equal footing as they could manage.

He still wishes Remus could've heard the disbelief in Virgil's voice. Wishes he could've heard the hope that he might be able to see him again. Even the hope that Roman might be wrong and that this horrible thing that happened might be a little less horrible because it would mean they didn't abandon one of their own too early.

But in a few minutes, Virgil's going to be here. He's going to be here and Remus is going to see that he was never forgotten, never abandoned, that they tore down and remade the world so that there would never be another like him, not that there ever could, because he's Remus and he was theirs and nothing could ever happen for the rest of time that would change that. Ever.

"You're anxious," comes Logan's soft voice—no, he's still not over that, not when it rasps unfamiliarly at his skin— "try and relax."

He turns his head to snap that he'll be as tense as he wants, thank you very much, only to see that Logan isn't talking to him, he's talking to Remus. Remus stops short like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and only whirls around to pace in another direction. Logan rolls his eyes fondly and relaxes into the other chair, shooting Roman a look like they're about to bond over how stubborn Remus can be.

"What?"

"Oh, don't give me that, little hero, you have the same pinched expression on your face right now. Don't try and pretend you wouldn't be doing the same thing if you could pace right now."

"I'm not going to answer that question on the grounds that I don't want to."

"Mm, and would such a defense hold up in any meaningful court room?"

"Funny, I wasn't sure you knew what those were, since you're in the habit of getting yourself into the most kangaroo-laden courts you can find."

"It's less fun when they have actual kangaroos," Remus adds, because he's Remus and that's what he does, "trust me."

"You know what? I'm gonna take your word on that one."

He doesn't quite see the small flinch as Remus hears him say that, but something in his brain just clicks. The same one that had him look at that corpse—don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there—just a little bit closer.

"Re—"

"They're here," Logan says abruptly, looking down at his phone, "their car just pulled up."

Remus pivots abruptly, facing the entrance. The three of them wait in silence as the door slowly slides open and—

"Holy fucking shit."

Remus freezes. "Virgil? Is that—"

"Yeah, it's fucking me, you think I was gonna find out you were alive and not race down here to see you? Holy fucking shit, Remus, you're—you're—oh my fucking god—"

And then there's a hand wrapping around Virgil's shoulder and holding him still as Janus walks in behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Remus stand up a little taller and he can't help the small smile that crosses his face at the same instincts that come over him. Even now, some part of them is still the little kids standing at the edge of the training mats waiting for instructions.

"The course objectives for the round-off qualifiers," Janus says smoothly, like they're back on those mats again, "what are they?"

He sees a truly impressive range of emotions cross Remus's face, from surprise to fury to something he can't quite name—something else in his brain clicks—before settling on a wide grin. "Go fuck yourself, old man, or sit back and watch."

There's a pause. Then Janus sniffles and there's a very quiet oh, sweetie, and two people are dashing across the warehouse floor to wrap Remus up in their arms. Roman can't stop beaming at Remus's confused little face, nor at the way his knees go weak as Janus presses a fierce kiss to the side of his head. He always denied that he was capable of that, after all, but oh, now he's just a little pissed that Remus fucked up his ribs so bad because he wants to be in that hug too, dammit.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Remus," Virgil's babbling, "we didn't—we didn't believe Roman until it was too late and we—they got us, I couldn't—I tried—"

"You tried?"

"Of course we tried, sweetie," Janus murmurs when Virgil just chokes off in a sob, "we were—I don't think I could ever put into words how furious we were when we realized—when Roman convinced us that he was telling the truth—"

"Which was hard," Roman adds, not above it in this moment, not right now, not when his face hurts from grinning too much, and not when Janus is so distracted he doesn't even get scolded for it.

"—but you have to know, sweetie, we moved Heaven and earth to try and find you afterwards." His gaze slides to Logan for only a moment. "I should've known you'd be resourceful enough to make it."

"Of course you should," Remus says with enough false bravado that Roman almost believes him for a second, "I've always been better than you thought I was."

"Oh, sweetie, no—"

"You've always been his favorite," Virgil interrupts, "it's really fucking obvious."

"True."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't have favorites, you two."

"He says, you know, like a liar."

"Mhm."

"Wait," poor Remus says, and fuck Roman wants to hug his brother right now, "wait, I'm—I was—"

Janus softens—see? Favorite—and cups Remus's face properly in his hands, letting Virgil move over to Roman to check that he's alright—which is not the priority right now, but he does appreciate it. "Sweetie, if you don't know how much you were loved, then we've failed more miserably than I thought we ever did."

"He thought you abandoned him," Logan says softly when Remus can't speak, and Janus's head whips around to stare at him, "he thought you were willing to believe he was dead because it was easier."

"Bullshit," Virgil spits, "Remus, that's bullshit, right?"

But Roman's already been through this, and he can only grab for Virgil's hand when Remus suddenly stops being able to make eye contact. Janus looks like he's about to cry again—which is its own level of fucking weird as hell—and Virgil just rushes back over to wrap him up in a hug. The three of them start mumbling together and Logan's expression just softens further as he watches them interact.

Eventually, they step back, wiping away tears with varying levels of discreteness—or in Remus's case, refusing to wipe them at all. Janus attempts to gather himself and looks at Logan.

"I'm no fool. I know this meeting is conditional. State your terms."

"I won't be so brutish as to insist upon such haggling right now," Logan says, "perhaps you should take this as a token of good faith between us."

"Your last 'token of good faith' involved a hundred suitcases stuffed with half-bloated corpses showing up on the City's doorstep. Try again."

"Why the animosity?" He leans back in his chair. "Have I not earned myself any goodwill at all?"

There's a silent stare-down for a few seconds. Then Logan sighs.

"I suppose it was too much to hope that you would be reasonable right away." He stands, adjusting his suit jacket. "Remus, Roman, I believe our time here is up."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Virgil steps between them. "What the fuck do you mean, 'Roman?' Roman's not going anywhere with you!"

Logan just turns and looks at Roman. And Roman…

…is torn. Because he knows the smart thing would be to go back with Janus and Virgil. Logan is right, this isn't the time or place for this negotiation and if they all have time to rest and recover—mainly him—then the next time they actually meet, they might have a chance at actually getting somewhere. Plus, now he knows that Remus is alive and safe, then he might be able to rest at the end of all of this.

But walking away from his brother? Again? That might just finish the both of them off.

"Before you go," Virgil blurts out, "can—can Patton see you first?"

Remus's head whips around. "Patton's here?"

"Yeah, Patton's here, he—fuck, Remus, yeah, he's here. Can he just—before we do anything else? Can he?"

Remus just nods silently and Virgil steps back, muttering into his comm. He glances back at the door and the whole building waits silently.

Patton steps inside and three things happen in quick succession.

One: Patton bursts into tears and starts running forward.

Two: there's an almost imperceptible schink as something metallic slides into place.

Three: Roman lunges up out of his seat and tackles Logan's chair to the ground as he pulls out a gun.

His ribs scream in protest. He ignores it. The gunshot goes wide. Footsteps and shouts come from outside. Someone is yelling. He gets up and picks up the chair, throwing it at Logan. Janus and Virgil are already shouting. Patton's still running toward them. He looks up at Remus.

Shock. Surprise.

The thing he couldn't name before: guilt.

They make eye contact.

He's never been more grateful that Remus is his brother.

He hauls himself to his feet and starts running.

***

"Well," Logan sighs as he hears the four of them have gotten away, "that didn't go precisely as expected, but—"

"You lied to me."

Remus's back is one angry line. His hands are curled into fists.

"You lied to me."

"Remus—"

"You said we wouldn't hurt him unless we had to. You said this would just be a meeting. You lied."

Logan doesn't say anything. Remus just looks off in the direction Roman had run. Because Roman had taken one look at Remus and been able to tell that Remus might have known something, but he hadn't known and hadn't agreed with what just happened.

Roman hasn't abandoned him. He never had.

And neither had the others.

"…what have we done?"

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

[myheartalivewrites]

Five Favorite Fics

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Hey @14carrotghoul thanks for tagging me! Knife to my throat I'll try to pick my favourites! 😂

Here we go, in no particular order:

Happy NY - New Year's Eve AU, ~11k, E rated

This has everything I love: flash falling in love, then a bit of miscommunication, Henry being angsty, Alex being a force of nature. Both of them as responsible college professors even though they're still horny buggers! Sexy dancing! All the good stuff

Down by the Water, I Saw You - exes to lovers AU, ~63k, E rated

This is my angstiest long fic - A and H having loved and lost each other as teenagers and then trying to find their way back. It's all set on holiday locations and it's got more than its fair share of smut to balance everything out. I really buried myself in this, and felt a huge sense of loss when I was actually done posting. I kinda still miss it

You Spin Me (Right Round) - gym AU, ~5k, E rated

Thought I'd big up this little guy! It's a quick and dirty, mostly-porn-not-so-much-plot fic where Henry is a spin instructor and Alex comes to one of his classes. Horntown ensues. I had a lot of fun pulling from my own experiences to write it 🫣✋

Don't Wanna Be a Fool for You, roommates AU, ~6k, E rated

It's smut, but Henry-centric, introspective smut. They're roommates and Henry's in love and doesn't know what to do with himself, until he decides to fucking bolt. Angsty sex ensues. For whatever reason this gave me exactly the right sort of feels I needed when I wrote it, and the sort of desperateness of it all really works for me.

Love and War, WWII army training camp AU, ~11k, E rated

Recency bias, bc I only just posted this last night and am still faintly shaking with the adrenaline of getting it all done in a little over a day. I had to go back and fix a million typos this morning, but hey. It's done.

This is my first historical fic and first anything to do with the army. Henry's a captain, training troops, Alex comes from overseas for training and they fall for each other.

Because I set myself the challenge of writing it super quickly, there's a sort of lightness in the writing that I really like. I didn't allow myself to get bogged down with details, specifics or side plots. It's just two guys falling for each other and going for it, and I'm really happy with how it came out. And it's a happy ending. No war angst allowed.

I think all my mutuals have done this, so open tag for anyone who wants to do this and please tag me - I love getting fic recs!

❤️ Happy reading.

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Jake discuss the future and have some fluffy sexy time.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Chapter 1: Devil in the Details

It takes approximately three days after Jake gets his new orders to be an instructor at Top Gun for reality to set in. Jake is going to be here with you for the long haul which makes you ecstatic beyond belief, but ever the practical one you wonder about some of the details and then proceed to overthink everything like normal.

Where's he going to live? Here? That seems fast to you or does it?

The thought of coming home to him everyday was comforting.

What is day to day life going to be like? You're not filled with dread thinking about the details but a kind of giddy excitement. The difference between hoping for the future and living it.

You had taken some much needed time off while Jake had his two weeks of leave after the mission. You spent most of the first two days in our own little bubble, barely dressed most of the time.

It was Thursday morning when he mentioned he had to be out of his temporary quarters.

"I'll need to go over and pack up my stuff, not that there's a lot of it, I've been living most of my life for the past couple years out of two duffle bags. I was thinking I might–," he stumbles on his words a bit, "or would you be okay with me temporarily staying here with you till my permanent housing is ready on base next week?"

He says the last part kind of rushed, you can tell he is thinking of all the implications of living together and probably wondering how you're going to feel about that. He looks moderately worried.

You go and sit on the sofa where he is sprawled wearing sweats and a Navy t- shirt drinking a cup of coffee. You snuggle into his side careful not to jostle the hot liquid; he wraps an arm around you reflexively.

"Jake, that's not a problem or even a worry. You can stay here with me, I'd like that," you say, looking up at him reassuringly.

He lets out a breath,

"Okay, I didn't want to intrude, I know I've been enough of a wrecking ball to your life already."

"And me to yours," you remind him as you give him a kiss.

"True, I've picked up that you like your space."

You shrug your shoulders lightly in agreement.

"Not that I'm a hermit, I'm just selective with the people I invite into my little bubble."

"I'm glad you've let me in."

He leans down to kiss you and you straighten up to meet his lips.

"Ugh, look at us, so sappy," you chide him,

"So, you're going to live on base? What's that going to look like?"

"Luckily, I will have 'Officers Quarters'", he says, complete with air quotes, "Which sound far fancier than they are, it's basically a one bedroom apartment. Private and furnished. They're relatively cheap and close. Better than anything I could find off base on short notice and within a reasonable price range."

"Yeah, that's San Diego for you. Although, I'm not sure how much time you'll really be spending there, because I'm pretty sure if you're around I'm going to want you in my bed."

His face brightens at the thought which quickly morphs into a devilish smile. He puts down his coffee cup and pulls you astride him. You lean down to kiss him as his hands run up your back under the T-shirt dress that you usually wear around the house when you want to be comfortable. Jake really likes them in that all you wear with it is underwear, which makes everything very accessible. The kiss deepens and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands have worked their way to the front and are now caressing your breasts. Your hands move to his hair which is slightly messed up and as he hasn't showered and and styled it perfectly into place yet. His light hint of stubble grazes your cheek as he kisses his way along your jawline line to where he can whisper in your ear,

"Speaking of this bed, I think that's where you and I should go now."

He starts kissing down your neck as you hum in agreement,

"That sounds like an excellent idea, but only," you spring off his lap and start to run around the couch towards the bedroom, "if you can catch me."

He stands up and jumps over the couch like a hurdle and catches up to you about three feet away from the bed. Picking you up with ease he tosses you on the bed where you land on your back, giggling as you bounce on the bed.

"Looks like you caught me, now what?" you say and raise an eyebrow.

Jake laughs, "I've got some ideas."

He pulls off his shirt and pulls down his sweats and boxer briefs in one motion and is naked in seconds. You're certain you will never get tired of the magnificent sight that is Jake Seresin naked. He kneels on the bed and crawls up to meet you, tenderness on his face as he tucks a piece of your hair that has fallen over your eyes back behind your ear. He stops his head down to kiss you in a searing take your breath away kind of kiss. Leaning back he teases you with his lips to get you to lean up as you follow his kiss so he can take your dress off. With a gentle push to your shoulder he gets you to lay back down again and he is instantly at your breasts cupping them with both hands while he sucks at each nipple with fervor.

You whine with need as he pulls off the second nipple, hands grabbing at the back of his head to keep him there. Your breasts cool in the air as his saliva evaporates and he kisses his way down your torso till he hits the band of your underwear.

"These might be in the way, best to get rid of them," he murmurs, kissing your hip bone.

And with that small notice your underwear are quickly pulled off and flung to the floor to join the rest of your clothing. You wonder what he is planning on next when the thought is pushed out of your head by the feeling of Jake plunging his tongue between your folds earning him a well deserved moan that rises deep from within you.

He attacks your clit with his tongue and gently adds one finger to your pussy and then another. He is a man on a mission, and that mission is to make you come as soon as possible it seems. Your hands go to his head and grab his hair, you wonder if you're pulling on it too tight until you hear and feel him groan with pleasure at your clit. He is fast and relentless, this is no scenic ride today. He has one goal and it's for you to come undone now. He arches his fingers and hits a different spot that makes you see fireworks. He gently massages his fingers in large circles and the feeling is exquisite. Your toes start to curl and your hands pull harder on his hair. He is keeping the same fast pace on your clit. Moaning loudly, you keep him close to your cunt,

"Oh my god, Jake don't stop, so close, so close."

This plea just intensifies his actions and you can feel yourself being wound up and then it all breaks, you come with a strangled cry and clamp your thighs around his head. You are bucking around with each wave of pleasure and he is holding on, tongue and fingers still working, but at a slower pace. You finally have to wave him off, it's too much.

"Too much, too much, Jake,"

you pant out, breathless and dizzy.

He lets go and pulls back breathing heavily. You look down as he wipes his chin clean with the back of his hand and crawls up to take you in his arms.

"I got you, it's all good,"

he murmurs as he kisses your temple as he holds you through the descent back to earth. You can feel his cocky smile at my temple. You come back down in his arms, all the while he is whispering in my ear,

"Sweet El, so beautiful when you come."

Your breathing returns to something approaching normal and you feel his embrace loosen and he asks, gently,

"Ready for more?"

You look into his eyes and say, "Yes, definitely yes."

Jake says,

"Here, get on your knees."

You move around and he is on his knees behind you, you figure that you are going to do doggy style. Jake is rubbing his very ready cock up and down your slit.

"Please,"

you whine a little more undignified than you would like.

You hear him laugh into your shoulder as he gently pushes in. It's then that he puts one hand on your shoulder and wraps his arm around your waist to raise you so your back is against his chest. You lean back on him as he thrusts in and out. Each push and pull delivers a delicious wave of pleasure. One hand is now touching your breasts and the other has moved down to your clit. You wrap your arms up and around the back of his head. The different points of contact are overheating your body and then Jake starts to whisper in your ear,

"You are so beautiful like this. One day I want to get a mirror and make love just like this so you can see just how breathtaking you are."

The praise is almost too much and you start to turn your head away, he reaches up and turns your head so that he can kiss you. His fingers circling your clit in a slow rhythm.

The pace has been steady, but not frantic. You can hear his breath starting to get ragged,

"El, so good, I'm getting so close."

The moment of intimacy, a level you have never experienced before, overwhelms you and you come apart clenching hard around him. Jake lets out a low moan as you ride out your climax from him. He holds back from fucking you hard, keeping his pace the same and prolonging your pleasure as he chases his. Your hand tangled in his hair tightens and you urge him to let go,

"Come for me, Jake. Need you."

Your plea pushes him over the edge and his warmth floods your pussy. Slowly your rhythm stills. He pulls out and you lay down on the bed and open your arms to him and he lays his head on your chest. You stroke his hair as your heart rates return to normal.

Jake's hand idly traces the line of your clematis tattoo on your stomach with his finger.

"So, tell me about your tattoos. I recognize this as a clematis vine. They grow insanely big in Colorado to the top of phone poles, hundreds of blooms all at once.'

"They've always been my favorite flower. I remember going to my grandma's house, it was a big old farmhouse north of Lansing, and her gardens had tons of them. I always liked how they found a way to grow bigger every year. You're the first person to correctly identify it."

He chuckles,

"My mom is super into gardening and didn't hesitate to draft her two sons into helping her. I picked up a few things here and there."

He kisses his way up to your side where you have a tattoo, just under your left breast. Titling his head to get a better view, he asks,

"What's this one?"

It's more simple than the one on your leg, black line work and no color.

"It's the lunar module from the moon landing."

He tilts his head again,

"Oh yeah, I see it now. You are such a nerd."

You laugh,

"I don't deny it, I'm definitely a nerd, but I'm your nerd."

He laughs and you can see his eyes sparkle when you say you're his. He moves to roll you on your stomach to get access to the last tattoo which is on your lower back.

"So this one I think I get,"

he says as kisses it from one side to the other. It starts on one side with a paper airplane with a dotted line that loops a few times to meet a rendering of the Wright Flyer in the middle of your back; the dotted line continues on with a few more loops to the outline of a SR-71 Blackbird.

"So why a Blackbird?"

"I've just always thought it was a very cool looking airplane, which I'm glad my 22 year old self chose a plane that was made by the company I would eventually work for."

He laughs into your skin,

"I'm not going to lie, a F-18 would look pretty good on you. Right about here," he playfully nips at your ass cheek. The stubble on his face tickles and you giggle in response.

"I think I made my opinions known on Boeing the first night we met," you say as you roll over. He winces as he recalls the experience.

"Yeah, I didn't pick up on a lot of clues, I felt nervous around you."

"I didn't pick up on any of that, you oozed confidence. Some of that might have been the beer and tequila, but you were a pretty smooth operator."

"Hah, till you shot me out of the air like a missile."

"Well, it was a weird way to start, but it got us here, so it worked."

You hear his stomach growl and yours answers back.

"As much as I don't want to leave this bed, we do need to get some sustenance and you need to clear out of your temporary digs this afternoon."

"Fine, fine, always the sensible one."

Credit for the amazing clematis tattoo in the mood board.

Chapter 2

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

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[five-nights-at-artsys]

Post-Shift Anxieties

[or: two long-time instructors talk to each other early in the morning.]

"... Scott? Everything alright there?"

Fuck. Fuck no, he's not dead, right–? Probably just conked out. Hopefully just that. A bit of a nudge ought to wake him up...!

Kim quickly tapped on the other man's shoulder. "Scott? Hey, it's— It's me, Kim."

"..ngh..?" He slowly starts to wake up. ".... wh-what time is—"

And then it hits him. "Ah—! Hhhheck, d-did— Did, uh, did something happen—??," he frantically asked.

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Kim said while backing away, just to give the fellow instructor some space. "It's fine, it's fine. Nothing happened, I think, you just.. passed out for a bit there and I was worried you were..."

She trailed off. Both of them knew what she meant anyways, after that last guy. Probably best not to dwell on it for long.

"... yeah."

"O-oh." Scott looked away in embarassment. "Uhm, s-sorry."

"Hey, no need to apologise," she replied. "You work late, I'd be more surprised if you didn't pass out."

An awkward silence started to brew between the two, before Kim sighed and spoke up once more. "Y'know, if you want, I could reassign you back to th—"

"N-no!" He interrupted. "I-I- I mean— I wouldn't... mind, but...."

"...but..?"

Okay. That's a first. Nobody else has objected to a shift transfer from night to day... Ever, come to think about it. Not from her, not from...

"... just— I don't wanna bother you, o-okay? Besides, uh, I- I'm sure I can handle it eventually. Just— Just give me some time, heh." And there he is again, with the same tired, awkward smile she came to associate with him.

She must admit, she's a bit— No, very worried for her old friend. Scott's got a bad habit of pushing himself too much for seemingly no good reason. But...

"... if you say so," she said, with a faint smile in return. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

"I-I will, don't worry."

[aeoneris]

for archival reasons, and because rise has officially ended, i'm coping by looking back at the past two years and thinking about the master utsushi rabbit hole. this is based on a long reply i sent to a mutual but i think it deserved to have its own post where others can read it and i can expand further on certain details. or something. i don't know. i have no idea who will read this but if you do, please enjoy...

the ballad of master utsushi.

he was there regardless.

always watching.

waiting.

i wound up getting attached to utsushi-kyokan (master/instructor utsushi), ウツハン/utsuhan (utsushi x hunter) ship, and finding his Japanese fan community late 2021, and i've been chatting with mutuals and friends i made there since. at that time, capcom had opened up pre-orders for his nui (plushie). this plush is lovingly referred to as "Unui-kun", and people love to take him around and bring him places. here's my Unui-kun in new york city lol

fans love to dress him up and make clothing and accessories for him. had i known just how attached i would become, i would not have set my Unui-kun to ship via surface mail delivery because it took about 2-3 months extra for him to arrive... ;;

but anyway, it seemed that his popularity was growing because they continued to make more merch of him. he seems to have more than any of the other characters.

many of these are limited print/pre-order only, or were from specific events like the capcom cafe features. trying to get his merchandise became crazy, because scalpers started to pick up on how badly people wanted goodies of him?!

just how popular is this guy?! what's with the character tax!!

and how did this even happen... we're playing monster hunter, not an idol game! but i think it really speaks a lot for itself how rise had such colorful characters that you could get attached to. it seems he really jives with many female and queer players, so good on capcom for that hehe. many of the japanese fans i've met are either older women, very often mothers, or gnc, which i found to be really cool. the english-speaking utsushi fans are usually the same, too. the solidarity is real...

I found out that a lot of ppl, including myself, shared a similar experience: they missed out on a majority of utsushi's flavor text in base rise bc they didn't talk to him or the other NPCs very much during village and high rank quests, and therefore didn't even think much of him until after the fact. people double-taking when going through the game again and actually catching on to his antics... I think what really got things going was when they released his DLC voice and learned about his, uh, extremely affectionate lines towards the hunter when it comes to mew mew and blowing a kiss LOL. (the "welcome back, master!" line?!?! there's so much art of him in a maid outfit... and the way he says ace/manadeshi in his sleep at the table?!?! scandalous?!?!) even for me, he got my attention only once i saw the official art of him (realizing "hey he's got a cute design actually") and eventually encountering utsushi x hunter fanart on pixiv. another thing that got me noticing him was brian david gilbert's now deleted tweet about how zac efron and utsushi are the same. thankfully, we have the internet archive to save the existence of this post and i have to make sure people experience this lost media.

once i realized how weirdly close he was to the hunter, the gears started turning

i confirmed that ppl really did notice that it was unusual for an instructor character to refer to his pupil as "manadeshi (beloved/dearest disciple)" in the manner that he does, being so close to them in a way that felt so familiar and warm. he was already popular enough that by valentine's day 2022, fans literally sent real chocolates to capcom addressed to utsushi. i knew about this for a while, but i was shook that they wound up officially addressing that this really happened during the last update video.

after they received his chocolates, they immediately got one of the (female) illustrators on board to quickly draw that really cute valentine's day art of utsushi. the japanese tweet for that artwork had even a little bit more text than the english one…

that "i'll always be watching over you" line…

(and while i'm here, i have to mention the valentine's day art we got for 2023- i made a separate post about THAT.)

we started to suspect capcom caught on to this niche community's love for utsushi, and they started to kind of... troll us??? LOL.

throughout the previews of sunbreak last year, they would start obsessively sneaking utsushi into those chibi artworks. and when npc followers were announced, people were scrambling to find out if he was going to be one of them, but there also was some weird radio silence about him for a bit...

in one of the earlier trailers that showed the elgado hub for the first time, there was a very short part of the clip where ppl could see someone standing in the distance at the corner of the screen. all the utsushi fans went nuts because they were taking a magnifying glass and zooming up at there wondering if it was really him, because everyone wanted him to be there in sunbreak LOL.

of course we'd eventually find out that would be his perch for most of the game! it was only during the final preview trailer before the release of sunbreak did they finally announce utsushi as a follower, as if they were saving the best for last. and sunbreak dropped, we got to see him in elgado and enjoy hunting with him. and it didn't end there. he wound up being featured in two of the short stories released last summer, and we would not forget this incident.

when i think about how easy it is to just play through the story and miss out on following specific out-of-the-way flavor texts, let alone know about all this outside of the game, i wonder if utsushi joining the hunter in the battle against amatsu in the penultimate battle was strange, because he has such a spotlight on him, even being the one who allows you to ride an apex which was normally impossible. if people didn't acknowledge him before, certainly people would love him now.

his final line after you defeat amatsu: it's cute and silly in english... but in japanese, his line and delivery was extremely, almost unabashedly... romantic. many people were shocked because it sounded like a fervent confession.

"I'll say it once more... You are my pride, my beloved disciple."

finally, during the last update video…

we got this line straight from the director LOL. utsushi wound up being his personal favorite character in rise, and perhaps why we wound up seeing more and more of him in sunbreak.

all in all, if you kept up with the flavor text of rise, and if you followed utsushi's dialogue throughout the base game and expansion, the emotional pay off at the end was even better! and it is a shame when this stuff is mostly optional or you have to go out of the way for it, with so much being missable with every bit of progression. but making a monhun where story and character interactions are pushed more… i think they were on to something. it's probably something that could be divisive, but personally I think they should go all in on it more in the future. Rise proved that they could make charming and memorable (not to mention, named) characters... if they lean into it more in a future entry, then i hope they do it in a way where everyone can enjoy it and not feel like they missed out. but I also hope they would make it so that people don't feel overwhelmed with flavor text... it comes down to taste, but i think i have faith that monhun can try making more character-driven stories while still keeping the core of the series in tact.

here are some more miscellaneous utsushi things that i didn't know how to fit in earlier:

he's been featured multiple times in capcom cafe entrees. here's his matcha latte dango drink:

and for the sunbreak stories: a cake based on his fight with rathalos together with the royal guard, and then a drink that represents his... uh, struggle across the ocean to chase the hunter to elgado. because they will never let him live that down. i won't either.

here's a t-shirt of utsushi and kagami you can pick up on amazon right now. kagami was a very interesting arc when he was first shown- he was introduced as a long time friend of utsushi, training together in the past, but eventually parting ways.

his seiyuu in japanese is a sentai actor who loves monster hunter, so essentially, kagami is lowkey like a self-insert for him lol. he's goofy in english because he's voiced by a certain youtuber, but in japanese he takes a different direction of silly because he has a "chuunibyou" edgelord cringe way of talking. it's such a shame that kagami wasn't really in the game itself besides being mentioned in a few mission descriptions because i would've loved to see him interact with utsushi and the hunter, and i wish the royal knights and many of the NPCs had more cutscenes or something. it makes me think, if it weren't for the pandemic, could rise's story and scenario have been something more because of the DLC voice characters like hibasa/monju/kagami? anyway, a popular headcanon is that utsushi and kagami are ex-boyfriends lol (i personally like this one and adapted it for my utsuhan fanfics). but there are even those who ship kagautsu too (although it is rare because people overseas are a little wary of shipping characters who are based on real people).

and lastly, one of my personal favorites... the diseased kyokan shirt. this is from an online capcom shop, and you can use a proxy service like fromjapan.com to order it.

if you read this all, thank you! happy hunting! with the instructor! we love that guy! the guy of all time!

[pup-deaddove]

It’s Mer-May! So in honor of the month, chew on this idea:

a hungry Siren Frank lures you in and fucks you while eating you alive

-💖 Anon

I Wanna See What Your Insides May Be

Warnings: cannibalism? He's a siren so kind of, kidnapping, noncon/rap3, graphic descriptions of gore, graphic descriptions of cannibalism, broken bones, necrophilia towards the end DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

Paring: Siren!FrankIero/GN!Reader

Extra notes: lmk if I missed any warnings :) I write these off the top of my head so it comes out of pure horniness :3 also slight unreliable narrator

AAAA this was supposed to be out last month and I'm so so sorry I've had a lot going on 😭

Frank was experienced. But not in the way that most humans used that sentence. No, no. Frank was experienced in luring those dumb, ignorant humans into his cave.

Frank didn't have to hunt as much as he did. One human could last him roughly a month if he's lucky. He hunted for the thrill.

Oh God, how he loved how they screamed and scratched and squirmed away desperately. And you were no exception.

You had been scuba diving. A usually innocent and memorable experience. Who would have known it would be your last? Frank of course! You decided to wander away from your instructor. The group was still in sight, and you got the hang of this diving stuff pretty quickly, it's fine.. right?

Well that's all Frank needed to see from his cave. He knew these waters like the back of his hand. He had lived in them for hundreds of years, and hunted for even longer. He knew exactly how to break apart these little frail humans.

Frank advanced closer in swift movements. He knew every hiding spot and little crevice he could squeeze into.

Like all the other humans, you didn't seem to notice all the terrified fish swimming away from the creature you failed to notice. You were only infatuated with the cave that lurked before you.

Frank followed quietly as you swam in. You followed his plan exactly. As you slowly noticed you were submerging into darkness, you reached for your flashlight. That's exactly what Frank wants.

He takes place on a high wall of the cave, out of your view. He watched you hungrily as you swam further in. He prayed on you as you ventured into his trap.

You observed all the rock formations. This cave was oddly captivating. You look to your left, something that resembled a... cot? It was too murky in here to see. Next to that was a collection of....bones. Bones? No.. no it must be a pile of rocks or something.

You turn to swim back out. You were pretty deep in, you couldn't even see the entrance anymore. You had to get back to your group. They probably noticed you're missing by now. As you shine your flashlight to see the path, you freeze. Two yellow, glowing dots stared back at you. Dots that looked almost like... eyes. That's weird. You didn't notice any fish when you entered. You stupidly ignored the growing pit in your stomach that something was wrong. Dangerously wrong.

It moved closer before you could. And oh boy was it not a fish. The creature looked human-like, but oh so far from human. It looked large, probably from the huge fish-like tail that took half of its body. It had scales brimming out most of its body, mainly its tail. It swam menacingly towards you.

It's, well his, ravenous eyes darted across your body. Longing. Hungry. He wasted no time snatching the only thing that made you superior in this situation: your flashlight. He quickly mangled the device, shattering its only purpose of providing light in times of need. You felt panic stomping out any chance of getting out in a reasonable condition, if at all. Now being in total darkness, you tried to get away from him as best you could, which was hard considering he could be anywhere and you'd have no way of knowing.

Somehow, he spoke to you. His voice was stern and rough. "You're going to do as I say," He grabs your shoulders roughly, causing you to flinch. "Or you're losing your precious little life." He says as he taps on your oxygen tank.

"Well, not like you have a choice anyways." He adds on mockingly behind you. He grabs you harshly, pushing you face down into the ground. He made sure to beware of your equipment, not wanting to end the fun just yet.

Your mind was spiraling as your body failed to move from the position he shoved you in. You could barely register his sharp talons cutting through your swim suit until he accidentally, or maybe purposely, nicks your skin.

You shiver as he expertly works you out of your now tattered and ragged suit. You were now completely naked and vulnerable and oh so terrified. You tried to keep your breathing steady as to not waste oxygen, but damn was that hard considering you knew this man (or thing..) wasn't going to spare your life by the end of his sick fantasy he's reenacting with you.

His sharp talons ghosted over your neck, threatening, eager. He took advantage of your inferior state to slip in his cock. The thing didn't feel at all human, not that he was anything close to it. It was slimy and large and definitely wasn't made for tiny human bodies like your own. You try to scream, both out of the pain and panic setting into your bones. He didn't hesitate to grip your neck a bit harder, reminding you who could slice your throat at any moment, reminding you who was really in control here.

He starts thrusting into your tight, inexperienced hole. It burned more than anything, and if you made it out alive the scars would never leave you. It would haunt you forever, remaining you of this selfish and lustful creature and not one person will believe you.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this, you fucking slut." He growls out, one of his hands snaking its way to your hair, tugging on it harshly. Nonono... You weren't letting him do this. He was letting himself do this. He forced himself into your unwanting body. You could tell he was getting bored of your shaking, terrified body, and getting bored of thrusting into your little hole, despite how tight it was. He bent down, shoving his large teeth through the skin on your shoulder. You scream out in pain, he grips your neck softly, but doesn't try to shut you up this time. No no, your screams only made him more excited. He only pounds into you harder, the feeling of your delicious flesh upon his teeth was almost too much. Almost.

He bites down harder, this time ripping the flesh away from you. Screaming would be an understatement for what you were doing. You tried to move away, but the more you moved the more the pain spread. Your blood was the only thing he could smell at this point, and it was one of the only things you had to hold onto, now seeping away from your defenseless body. It wasn't long before he went in for another bite in the same area, this time biting down harder as your collarbone cracks satisfyingly beneath his teeth. He spit out the bits of bone that shot into his mouth before graciously sucking the blood that squirted out of your wounds. But now you wouldn't stop moving. Fear and adrenaline had consumed you and you just wouldn't stop.

He grabbed your neck harshly, his nails puncturing your neck as he did so. "Stop fuckin moving you useless little whore." He pounded into you as he spoke, though at this point you couldn't even feel it. Annoyance soon arose as you kept moving. Well he knew a quick fix to that. He snatched away your oxygen tube, not that you had much left anyways. You instantly inhaled some water, but you tried your best not to inhale any more. That was proven difficult when there was a siren aggressively fucking you into the ground while actively eating you alive. He takes another large bite, causing you to attempt to scream and thus flooding your lungs with more water.

The mixture of your own blood with water where it shouldn't be wasn't the best thing in the world, but there weren't too many good things that you were experiencing right now. As death seized a hold onto your precious little life, the last thing you would want to hear is the sounds of someone violating you while laughing at your pain and suffering. But what was just what you could hear as you painfully passed. You couldn't even feel his hand on your neck anymore, tearing out chunks of skin and admiring the sight. By the time he finished, you were quiet, still and oh so pretty. He admired the sight of your bloody and gorey lifeless body before pulling out. He may have to keep you for a bit longer just so he could fuck that sweet little hole of yours whenever he wants..

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Reaper and the Death Angel Snippet 5 - The Lesson I

Takes place over parts Part 58, Part 59, this on meant to be one chapter but it's getting super long, and I want to do that what this means from the story justice. This chapter is chock full of some really important information and is the start of the Club changing for the better so strap in for a long read.

Series Masterlist

Part 59

Contains: Discussions of war and combat, angst, hurt/comfort, character growth, fluff. This is not beta read and may be full of mistakes.

7.9K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #the reaper and the death angel.

“The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.” ― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Training: Day One

"Hello all and welcome to lesson number one of your month long training course. Today's first lesson is about force multiplication it's basically why you're here."

You looked around the room and smiled, they all came, "as part of this you have been given reading for the next two days of lessons, a show of hands who has done it?"

They all raised their hands, "great, there will be a paper test after every class, it will only be hard if you are lying to me. The reason you are only being given reading two days ahead is a lesson in itself; you rarely have two hours to prepare when things go wrong, let alone two days."

You looked at Sam, who gave you a slight nod, you had agonised over how you were going to handle this since Jax told you everyone was going to show up. "Anyone who has been to any of the other classes where I teach is going to be disappointed in my teaching style here. I am not going to be nice until everyone, and I mean everyone, proves they are going to do what has been asked of them."

They seemed worried, "while you won't have me for every class, I am running this course and have told all other instructors the same. They will be reporting back to me every twelve hours. Fail, misbehave or act ungrateful and I will know and you know what happens then."

You stood at the front with your arms crossed, "what is force multiplication?" Opie's hand went up, "yes?"

He swallowed, "doing something that makes the team better and able to get tasks done with less people."

You smiled, "that's what I wanted to hear, good work Ope. You have two choices for a reward a collective or an individual reward, pick one please."

"Collective."

You walked to the desk and handed everyone a sheet of paper, "extra information for another class, I have no idea which one, each sheet is different." You leaned against the desk, "who can tell me why force multiplication is important?"

Bobby raised his hand and you nodded for him to answer, "the stuff.."

You cut him off, "I didn't ask why your reading said, I asked you. Now, why is force multiplication important? Someone else please." Kozik's hand shot up, "yes, what's your answer?"

"If only one person knows how to do something, then it's easy to take the whole team down. Force multiplication is about making sure everyone can help when shit goes wrong."

You smiled, "wonderful, collective or individual reward?"

Kozik didn't need to think, "collective, please."

You nodded, "great, when one of you fucks up, only that person will be running laps. Kozik is correct, if someone does their homework on the Club, it would be effortless to bring it to its knees. If I were your enemy, I would take out Chibs first because you're all dead without a medic, hence why one of the classes you're all taking is emergency combat medicine."

It seemed the seriousness of the situation was setting in, "next, without the help of training, how can you achieve force multiplication?" More hands than last time went up, "Bobby, now is the time to redeem yourself for your fuck up before."

"Sharing what you know and asking for someone to teach you what they know."

You smiled, "correct, collective or individual reward?"

You watched him exhale in relief, "collective."

You offered him a soft nod, "there will be an extra ten minutes to talk before the test. Whether now, in two weeks or at the end, you should share what you have learnt in your individual classes. You won't be tested on it, it will be on your own time for the sole reason that you want to help your brothers."

You went behind the desk and sat down, "your extra ten minutes to talk about the reading start now. After that, find your number match on your piece of paper without speaking a word a pair up with that person. Once you're done, you are free to talk to your partner and only them while you answer the question on your papers. After that, you will hand them to me and I will grade them out of sixty, to pass you must get full marks, you have one more try after this."

You listened to them talk and you could tell they did the reading, after ten minutes, you got their attention again, "pair off without making a sound."

Phil raised his hand, "how?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "you have fingers, I suggest you use them." You smiled as they figured it out and before long, they had finished talking and the papers were handed to the front of the class.

They watched with worry in their eyes as you graded them, but the worry was soon dispelled when you stood up with a smile, "congratulations, everyone passed. You have your physical skills assessments next then your day will be over. Try your best, there may be changes to your programs both positive and negative once your skill levels are more clear."

****

"How are they doing?" You were watching them from the observation deck run drills.

Derek sighed, "Billy's putting them through their paces, the young ones are doing fine but Tig and Bobby need a lot of work. You were right, they're dragging the others down. Chibs is fine, he seems to have retained at least a little of his training. Juice is good but again, you're right, he's not a good fit for fieldwork."

You sighed, "you think we take some of them off the basics and move some of them back to even more simple stuff?"

Derek rubbed his face as you flinched when Billy's fist slammed into Jax's face, "yeah. Your boy's good, he's the only one that's landing hits."

You nodded, "thank Sam. Alright, let's rip the bandaid off now. I'll look over their assessments and then I'll address them. This is going to be a bucket of fun."

****

You paced the room, "well, I can't say I'm surprised but these results are miserable, like this shit is going to keep me awake at night worrying. Jax, Hap, Opie, Chibs, Kozik, Juice and Rat you guys are fine, you don't need some of the more basic stuff, so you'll be given more advanced reading and far more difficult training. The rest of you are going back to basics. Everyone will be reassessed in a week."

Tig raised his hand, "what was so bad?"

You sighed, "just about everything, I don't have time to tell all of you and part of this is about building your independence. You are the study your own assessments, they are in plain English so you can understand where you need improvement and then you will be given the theoretical and practical tools to improve. No more handholding, adapt or die rings true in all things."

****

Training: Day Three

"Welcome to the anatomy of killing. Here you will learn how to kill, why an action ends life and how to do so effectively, efficiently and if need be, without getting caught. Today's first lesson is close quarter combat."

You could see the small smile on Happy's face as you walked to the middle of the room and slapped the strange looking dummy, "this is Bob. The reason this class costs so much is because of Bob, Bob bleeds, breaks and breaths like a real person. Bob is going to teach you how to kill. Show of hands who's done the reading?"

They all raised their hands, "I don't have a gun, knife or weapon of opportunity, what's the fastest way to kill Bob?"

Tig raised his hand and you nodded, "break his neck."

You smiled, "good, and how to I do that? Someone else please." Jax's hand went up, "yes?"

"Gain control of the head snap upward quickly to push the bones of the neck into the spinal cord while overpowering the natural reflex that a person has to protect their neck."

You smiled, "correct, tell me why it works? Someone else."

Bobby offered an answer, "the spinal cord is the body's information highway damage it close enough to the brain and the brain can't tell the heart to beat."

You nodded, "fabulous, I will demonstrate." You walked behind the dummy and lifted your hands to the head and, in one quick motion, snapped his neck. "Now, if I was in front of him, how would I do the exact same thing?"

Ope's hand went up and you waved for him to come up to the font, "show me." You held a finger up for him to pause and reset the dummy, "go for it." He moved his hands to the dummy and you stopped him, "more your hand closer to the edge of the chin, and your other one higher on the back of the skull, if you do it like that, you risk not damaging high enough and just causing paralysis."

He did what he was told, "like this?"

You nodded, "perfect." You blinked, "well go on, if you can't do it on a dummy you won't be able to do it on a person." He took a deep breath and the snap filled the room.

"Good job Ope, sit down. We're all going to go through this, I'm going to call you at random and pick a position and you're going to do it, we'll fix problems as they come. After this, we move onto choke holds."

****

You smiled, "ok class what's the takeaway?" Juice held up a finger, "yes Juicy, let's keep this streak going."

"Choking, cutting off blood flow to the brain or air to the body, is a waste of time. It takes too long and it's too easy for the other person to get away."

You smiled, "so it's better to do what, if you can't break a person's neck?"

You waved to Happy as his hand lifted off the desk, "damage the throat with a hard strike to cause suffocation."

You clapped, "we are making progress, if you take away anything, it's that you never beat someone to death. It's too messy, it take too long and leaves too much of you behind. You have a paper test after this then we move onto bladed weapons."

Billy walked in just as you finished grading, "Billy is here for our knives portion, he is very good with them."

Billy shook his head, "says you." He turned to the group, "I've never seen a person find an artery so fast or be so unaffected by being covered in blood. Y/n is a totally badass."

You shook your head, "back to your tests, I'm impressed, everyone is doing much better than I hoped. Now for the fun part, Bob is set up to bleed like a real person so before we get all messy, we're going to use dull knives coated in paint. Pair off and we'll start. Tiggy, you're with me for now."

Tig paled, "don't worry, we're not at hand to hand just yet. You'll be fine." You handed the tray of knives around, "the paint will come out when you apply pressure to the blade, it washes out so don't worry."

You stepped towards Tig, "who can tell me the four places where you want your knife to end up?" Tig made a face, "yes Tiggy?"

"Heart, lungs, spine into the brain, major blood vessel."

You smiled, "yep. You have to account for blood when using a knife, so if you want a bloodless kill into the brain is the only way to go. Into the brain and from behind and into the lungs is silent, with the others, at the least, you'll get some sputtering and at worst, you'll get screaming. When stabbing, focus on twisting and getting the knife as deep as you can, when slicing, focus on getting deep, cutting ragged and multiple slices."

You waved the knife, "I'm going to demonstrate the speed that you should try to aim for, Tig, run at me and try to get me." He took a deep breath and lunged, you grabbed his hand, slicing across his forearm then under his arm then flipping your hand to slice his throat, the paint running over both of you.

"Spin and show everyone. Can I get a time please."

Billy chuckled, "two seconds give or take."

You sighed, "that's alright, not my best time but not my worst. Tig, you can go pair off with Phil. Ok, so you're going to run at each other and try and repeat the pattern I used on Tig. Grab their knife hand, slice that forearm, then under the armpit like you're jointing a chicken then spin your hand to slice across the throat. The winners pair up with winners and looser pair up with looser until everyone wins and everyone is covered in paint. Once we're done here, you all get to have fun with Bob."

****

"Ok, this stuff is easy enough to wash off. Hit the showers and shove your clothes into the washers. You'll meet our experts in the ring in an hour for hand to hand combat training, and I've told them all your weaknesses so you're going to have a whole lot of fun."

You turned to Billy after they left, "thoughts?"

Billy smiled, "your man has more of a predator streek than you think. he's very good with a knife."

You nodded, "Jackson is far more capable than he thinks, I'm hoping this course helps him see that. He needs to realise that he's much more ruthless than Clay because Clay lacked a soul to keep him on the right path."

Billy crossed his arms over his chest, "and the others? Some of them didn't do too well."

You swallowed, "they'll shape up, they don't need to be perfect, they just need to keep themselves and their friends alive."

Billy huffed, "and the ones that need to be perfect? Jax and Opie have to be on top of everything."

You rubbed your face, "you don't think they're already going that way?"

Billy smiled, "you're right, I was just making sure you were seeing it?"

You made a face at him, "are you saying I'm a task master?"

Billy grinned, "yep."

****

Training: Day Four

"Hey Juicy, come in and sit we have so much to talk about." Penelope welcomed Juice into her office and pulled up a chair. "Have you done all your homework?"

Juice nodded, "yep, so what are we working on today?"

Penelope smiled, "what would you like to work on? You have four sessions with me all about different things, so it's your choice."

Juice thought for a moment, "fancy background checks."

Penelope clapped, "yay, we'll start with getting into people's work and home emails."

****

"You want to make sure that all points of entrance are watched, that's the easy part. The next part is to make sure that all climbable walls and fences are watched. In the end, T-M is not a castle but you need to try and protect it like one."

Kozik listened intently, "what about the cabin."

The man running the class, Kaden, was short but stocky, his chest wide and his arms like tree trunks are he walked around the room, "cameras are your first step, Juice will be learning how to keep the footage away from prying eyes. After that it's booby traps that alert you that someone is there, think tin cans on either side of a tree with fishing line."

Phil's hand shot up, "what about false alarms?"

Kaden sat on the edge of the desk at the front, "part of your job is to make sure all your friends know where they are, they will learn to be well aware at both the Clubhouse and cabin during our practical outings later on in the month. If they don't care enough to listen to you when you debrief them about security, then it's their fault when they cause issues."

****

Frank had his arms crossed as he addressed the group, "now, because some of you suck and some of you don't suck, y/n has split into groups. The ones with a number one on their sheets will go into advanced marksmanship with Billy, and the ones that have a number two will be down here doing basic marksmanship with me, you will all be expected to pass the advanced class by the end of the month, the ones that don't will have to continue to study after this month is up at your own cost."

Billy didn't take the same go get em tone he did with new recruits, they needed a bit of harshness, "if you get someone killed because you can't shoot or worse, you hit one of your buddies, you have done one of the worst things you can do, which is cause a preventable death. This will take us into early next morning as we have to cover night shooting as well. I don't want to hear whining, if you're tired, drink some coffee."

Tig's hand went up tentatively, "why am I in group two?"

Frank rolled his eyes, "because you're sloppy. I'd shut up if I was you, I'm teaching group two because I'm nice, if you want you can go into group one and be held to Billy's standard but he'll have you running laps until you puke at this rate."

****

Frank was done with the bullshit, "that's it, head upstairs and tell Billy I sent you. Not only will you have to work twice as hard to pass but he's mean."

Tig went to speak and Frank waved his hand, "I don't care that it's two in the morning and I don't care that you're tired, get up and go upstairs. If you want to fail I'm more than welcome to help you."

Tig took the flight of steps upstairs only to be greeted by half the Sons up there covered in sweat and the rest reassembling their M16s blindfolded, "let me guess, you pissed Frank off?"

Tig swallowed, "yeah."

Billy huffed, "ten laps around the room them drop into a squat and hit the target dead on, if you miss you'll be doing another ten."

****

You woke up to the sound of Jax dragging his feet as he made his way into the shower, you closed your eyes and listened as he shuffled around then he was flopping into the bed ten minutes later, "how was your day?"

He groaned, "I don't think I have been this tired in a long time."

You chucked, "Billy wasn't too mean?"

Jax shook his head and yanked you into his arms, "not to me but he was mean."

You sighed, "if they'd just listen and do what they're told, he would be a sweet as pie. You don't have any training tomorrow so even though you need to do your day job, take that time to rest."

Jax kissed your forehead, his words slurred with sleep as he spoke, "mmmm good idea."

****

Training: Day Seven

"How are you enjoying taking on so much at T-M?"

Sam sighed and gave you a soft smile, "well, we're still getting all the work done and people are still happy."

You nodded, "and the exercises you do go to, the ones for team building and planning do you think they're working?"

Sam took a seat and invited you to follow, "it's going much better than I thought, the guys are learning fast. By the end of this you're not going to have anything to worry about. Kip is enjoying not being a lackey too, I'm honestly happy to have some time alone with him, the constant civilian nonsense gets to me after a while."

There was a pang of sadness in you as he spoke, "yeah, I have to say adjusting back to back at home is a little harder than I thought. It might sound terrible but I'm kinda hoping they get a taste of what it's like, even for a little while, especially after today."

Sam gave you a sideways look, "you and be both. Look, The Ringer fucks with most people and you've given them a week to be ready. If they can't handle it then they need to turn in their patch."

****

As much as you wanted to be there, you knew you couldn't. Part of the exercise was the newness and the unknown. The masked instructors didn't even introduce themselves as everyone but Sam and Kip stood in the large training room.

They shared looks, unsure of what they were going to be dropped into. You made sure to pick people you didn't like, the ones you hired because they could do a job and not because they played nice with others.

"You wanna tell us…" The man at the front cut Opie off before he could say anymore.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth unless I'm telling you what to say. Now my boss," not y/n or Dr l/n. No, it was my boss, the gap between the men around the room and the men in the middle of it couldn't be more painfully clear. "My boss gave you a week to prepare for this, a week to harden yourself for this. Welcome to The Ringer shitstains, it's the closest to real combat you'll ever get."

****

"The closest to real combat you'll ever get."

The Ringer was the not so affection name for a single man obstacle course set up to be like the firefight from hell, complete with flashing lights and gunfire, barking dogs that sounded like angry hellhounds, women screaming and babies crying. 

The whole thing was about staying cool under pressure, they had to complete a wide range of challenges, all the while, men were popping up and shooting at them. Each time they failed at a task, the noise would get louder and the flashing light would become more offensive. 

You knew they all had to do it, so you did your best not to feel bad for them but you knew some of them would take it harder than others. If brotherhood was as important to them as they say, they'll support each other. Part of you was hoping it would make them realise how bad it can be, and an even darker part of you hoped they would be even more sorry for not stepping up and leaving everything to you. 

And you were right, Jax came out of the room, barely able to hold himself together, he paused to throw up in a bin before sliding to the floor with his head in his hands. He could still hear the screaming as his hands shook, Derek's words about handling the stress and fear of war running through his head, "take a deep breath, you're here, you're alive, you will be fine." 

He clenched his jaw and took one last deep breath before standing up, they needed this, they needed something that wasn't Charming and spats with other gangs. Jax had always felt something from Sam and, to a lesser degree, Kip and he could never quite put his finger on it, but that room made him realise what it was, the ability to stay unflinching even when the Grim Reaper was breathing down your neck.

****

They were happy it was over, or at least they thought it was, until the instructors showed up again, "I'm disappointed, your times and your performance, that was pretty standard, even good for civilians but what happened after is the worst display of comradery I've ever seen. Brotherhood?" The man spat, "your brotherhood is built on a wet paper towel soaked in shit. So I've made some changes and none of you are going home until we fix this mess."

Another man, the one who had stood at the back of the room with his arms crossed the whole day, "don't worry that much, everything you're going to do has been approved by our boss. If it makes you feel any better, she wasn't surprised that some of you lack the ability to support your brothers, in fact when we called her to tell you that this had happened, she could name the people that failed. No matter, there are things to be done and if you don't do them right, we'll be here until you do."

The man at the front gave them a sadistic smile, "oh and what y/n doesn't know is that if you don't fix it fast enough, you're all going back into that room until it sinks in, and we can make it much worse if we want to."

****

Jax was grateful for the hours that followed. Something clicked between the yelling and screaming and getting kicked in the ribs every time he dropped the ball as a leader. You must have given these faceless men information because the first chance they got, they were on them about their failings, Tig killing Donna, the Club letting Clay get away with so much, how much they relied on you and their lack of gratitude.

Jax realised that as time went on and they got better, the instructors got nicer, they became downright friendly when they saw they were genuinely working together. They didn't realise it had ended until the masks came off and the coffee and sandwiches came out.

"Enjoy your meal. After this, you see the doc to make sure we haven't hurt you too bad and then have exit interviews with the shrinks, then a group session. I suggest you participate to the best of your ability, it will be an official session so the person you talk to won't be able to tell anyone what you've told them unless you're planning on hurting yourself. I get that you might think it's stupid but if you leave here traumatised, y/n will never forgive herself and you've all already done enough to her."

****

You were waiting for Jax to get home, he sat next to you in the library with a groan, "are you ok my love?"

Jax blinked, "I'm fine, really sore but I'm fine."

You smiled sadly, "I'm sorry."

Jax waved his hand, "don't, that had to happen, it really did. We've learnt a lot. Everything being dragged into the open, Donna and Clay and how the Club has treated the women and the prospects, it all came out. I'm not going to lie, it's made things harder, and there's a lot of work that needs to be done before the Club is what my father wrote about but we've certainly learned what we were made of."

You placed your hand on his cheek and ran your thumb against his skin, "how did the shrink go?"

Jax sighed, "good, really good." He paused and something came over him, "they said that if we want, we can go back for as long as we need with no charge?"

You nodded, "yep and the fact that it's run through Anvil and the CIA means that it bypasses all the regular rules. Plus, I know all the therapists, I hand picked them and they work with not just our guys and other vets but other people who have seen a lot of horrible things. Are you thinking about going back?"

Jax swallowed, "not all the time but it would be good to have someone to talk to who......"

You could tell he was trying to find the right words, "who has no skin in the game, someone who has no idea who you are and can't judge because it's their job not to. That's the point of it and I think it's great you're getting real help."

Jax took a deep breath, "I'm not the only one, Juice and Ope are too. I don't know what it was about the last thirty hours but I can finally see an end to all this, a real end where my father can....."

His voice caught, and you pulled him into your arms, "hey it's alright. This is the reason this kind of thing is put in place. I wouldn't be as close to my guys if we hadn't had these moments ourselves. I'm going to go run you a bath and put on some chicken soup. If you want to talk more about what happened, then I'm here."

Jax smiled, "I have some good news. Juice came clean and told everyone about his father and what Roosevelt tried to do."

You raised your eyebrows, "the by-laws?"

Jax shook his head, "changed on the spot. I can't say that it's going to be like that with all the other charters but there's been a phone call and anyone who has issues can turn in their patch without any consequence. For what it's worth, most people seemed receptive."

You pressed your lips to his cheek, "I'm so proud of you. Now I'm going to run you that bath, I love you so much Jackson."

His smirk was back, "I love you too darlin."

****

Training: Day Ten

Things changed overnight, the days after The Ringer were like night and day. Your friends went back to being their friends rather than demanding teachers, then weren't being made to run laps or do a thousand push-ups every time they failed. Sure it was still rough but Jax wasn't desperate to call you every two seconds to soothe him.

Jax smiled as you brought in the box of cookies, if this was anything like the classes you taught elsewhere, this was going to be a bucket of fun.

"Well, I'm very happy that things can be fun now. I hate being an asshole. Today's class is going to interesting, it's also going to be a bit morally challenging so ask questions. From now on with me there's no need to raise your hand, as long as you're not talking over me or each other just let it fly."

Sam and Kip were there too, the smile of Sam's face making his cheek ache, he knew what was coming and he was looking forward to it.

"We have two classes today, both with me. You are very lucky to attend this one, and there's a reason you were only given homework for the second class of the day. This one is a program I created for training new CIA agents, it's not something we even hold here so you'll have to store what you learn today in your brain. There won't be a paper test either and it will be clear why as we got along."

You walked to the board and wrote the name of the class in big letters with the blue whiteboard marker, "welcome to practical predation. Firstly, the most important part of this is to remember if you use this to hurt innocent people or worse get what you want the easy way, you are not a human being, you are a thing walking around in a suit of human skin and no one can trust you."

You sighed, "being a practical predator is all about knowing what separates you from the animals and things in people suits. The moment we started using weapons our only true natural predators became each other. There is a very good reason humans scream when giving birth, we don't need to worry about a lion eating us."

They were fascinated, "all humans are predators and it's my opinion that we shouldn't be using it to describe the monster we read about in the news. Our ability to be apex predators has got us here, what you're learning here today is the end result of that. So Cain killed his brother with a rock and the sin of violence was born, it's in our nature if you like. The most important lesson to learn here today is how to spot the things walking around in suits of human skin."

Jax had a mix of arousal and fear swirling in his brain, he always had the feeling that other people thought they were trapped in a room with a lion when you were around, this just added to it.

"I am putting a lot of trust in you that you won't use this to hurt people, this class isn't taught to everyone at the CIA, there's an interview process to here."

You smiled and walked over to the box of cookies, "who can tell me what I'm most afraid of phobia wise?"

You waited, "no one? It's deep water. I, however, know everyone's phobias. Now that's because I'm your friend and I want to spare you from them but that's where class two comes in. Learning about a person's fear is important no matter what, if someone is your friend and you love them, then knowing their fears means you can be there to comfort them; ideally you can help them overcome them. Knowing your enemy's fears can help you destroy them."

You got a smile from Happy with that, "in a compassionate context, fear and something like addiction or trauma is not a weakness, but in this context it is and you need to know how to exploit that. We're talking subtlety here, you're not ripping a head off and sticking it on a pike unless you have to, and we'll talk about that kind of thing a little later. In most cases, you're simply going to dangle your knowledge over their heads and make a favour out of it."

You waved your hand, "someone give me a quick scenario."

Sam's voice filled the room, "ahh, someone who like to gamble."

You nodded, "if I knew they were in debt I would offer to help them out, I give them money but they don't pay me back in money because I would tell them that would be wrong, no, to pay me back they owe me a service. When you're doing something like this, you don't want to make it a one time thing, you want to keep helping them in different ways. The first time, hell the first few times you call in your favours make it small, in all cases, the best thing to do is make someone your friend and you can't do that by being cruel or unreasonable. Questions?"

"Is that how you get so many people to do things for you?" You could hear something in Kozik's tone but it was hard to say what it was.

You thought for a moment, "yes and no, again some of this is also a part of the next class. The relationships you've seen me build are from a genuine place. With Raphael Gallo I got his then girlfriend now wife into a life saving clinical trial, I never intended on calling in that favour but the longer I waited the more weight it held, the reason I asked must have been serious after waiting all this time. In the case of practical predation, you do intend to call it in and in that case, you say something like, 'I'm going to take you up on that favour when I need to, don't worry, I won't ask you to do anything you won't want to do, a self severing favour is still a favour.' By doing that you're letting them know that they don't need to off you to get out of it."

"What if they don't follow through?" Happy's question was reasonable.

"That's why you have to make what you're asking for seem good for their interests too. In writing my new book, I've had to work with men who think I shouldn't be able to vote, let alone be working and writing books. Many of them run these podcasts and I realised I needed to get onto one. Rather than ask hat in hand and end up facing three of them all by myself and being talked over, I made look like a properly structured debate would make them look good. Now take some time to think what they might use to get out of a bad outcome."

Opie's eyebrows wrinkled as he spoke, "they could say the moderator was biased."

You smiled and tossed him a cookie, "there you go, I told them we'd have two. One of my choosing and one of his. On top of that, I said that as part of it, the moderators would have to be upfront if they had any citations for bias. I chose someone who had none but he was limited, and the one he chose, while he shares the same benefits hasn't worked seriously for years because of all his bias citations. Anyone else?"

"He could accuse you of getting people to call up and give you easy questions." You reopened the cookie box and threw Juice one.

"You are very right Juicy. One of the rules is he can't take questions from people who call in all the time and I can't take them from people I know. This is where the manipulation comes in, I'm going to have Billy call up, and then I'm going recognise his voice and tell him to hang up. While it might be a bit dishonest and this part won't go into my book, the idea is to show that I am doing the right thing. What I then need to pick up on is when he does it and called him out in a way that either doesn't make him look bad or makes him look dishonest without a doubt. So who can tell me what the strategy is?"

Jax blinked, clearly deep in thought, "you identify and solve problems before they happen."

You threw Jax a cookie, "there you go, the best way to do that if you're not used to doing it is to get together and fire off ideas, as you get better at it you need less help but doing it on your own is not the end goal. Say the Tenth Street Killers came back and started causing issues and you had a way to help Pope out, you would sit down and do this process with him. Again you will learn the main reason why in the next class."

You could see the wheels in their heads turning, "so here's what we're going to do, I want everyone to think of a scenario where these skills can be used and we're all going to go through them together. After that, we'll talk about your presentation and then we'll move into the bloody stuff."

****

They learned quickly, the ideas flowing more freely as time went on, "alright, gentlemen. The next thing is how you figure people out because knowing your enemy is what matters the most. Firstly, for this to work, you may need to act like something you are not. You may need to act like a thing in a person suit to get you to want something out a real thing in a person suit. Think of it like putting on a costume, you are not a human, you are acting like one and you want to find other monsters just like you. That might mean you have to do things that make your skin crawl but understanding how to put on a mask and act like a monster is critical."

They shifted in their seats, "we have to remember that these skills work because you are using them for the greater good, if you don't let your morals lead you, they stop working because you don't have a leg up on the monsters."

"How the hell do we do all this?" You threw Kozik a cookie for his effort.

"Firstly, master impassiveness, no matter how bad shit gets, try and keep your face and body neutral. Listen more than you talk and watch, I'm hoping that those of you in the body language and communication class have shared what you know?"

You got lots of nods, "that all you need, you just need practice. I have to do it all the time in court when I'm giving evidence, I want nothing more than to punch the defence attorney in the mouth but I can't do that so I take a deep breath and I remember that giving unflinching, clinical information. Not because I don't care, but I know that when the prosecutor hands me a softball question, I can show them that I am angry and that helps the judge and jury see my side because I'm showing them that while I care, my caring doesn't take over. If you want to simplify it, emotions are deeply important, it's choosing when to show them that matters."

You sighed, "there's no real exercise that we can do now to help but from now on, start paying attention to people, you would be surprised what you can learn about someone by just observing them. Now onto the fun parts, how we can use violence to get what we want."

****

"You really did this shit?" Jax was having trouble thinking through the haze of amazement.

"Yep, and it works. What all this boils down to is 'don't fuck with me or you'll end up the same way.' You want to show people that it behoves them to not piss you off and you can't do that if you use violence willy nilly and a large part of that is having allies, if no one like you, then you end up dead. If you tell someone you're going to gut them and send their guts to their mother if they piss you off, then they piss you off, you have to do it so don't make a threat unless you are willing to follow through."

They shared a look and Happy chuckled, "you are hardcore."

You smiled, "thank you Hap. Now onto the boring part, we're moving on to the diplomacy class."

****

As this class always did, it moved from how to make allies to how to build better relationships, "I can understand that it can be hard to take this all in, you need to relearn how to be a friend and a brother and a son and a father and a partner. But it all comes down to first realising that you are a better person than you think you are, you can pick up on your loved one's emotions and you can help them with their problems, you just need to pay enough attention to know how."

"That sounds tiring." You sighed, you had a feeling Tig would struggle.

"It is when you're the only one doing it, but if you love someone, you do your best to put in the work. You have to look out for each other better than you have been because if the last ten days have shown anything, your biggest weakness is the lack of attention you pay to your friends. Just because you're big tough men doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to bawl your eyes out in front of your friends."

You could understand that this was hard for them, "if you don't want an enemy to exploit your weakness as a group, you have to have lots of strong bonds and know each other's strengths and weaknesses. One person's weakness is everyone's weakness so it's your job as their friend to build them up. You do that by realising that you are also human, you have your own failings and that they can also get your friends killed. Your only exercise going forward is to take the time to look inward and see where you can improve then start doing it."

****

Training: Day Fourten

"Alright, learn the grounds with your partner, then come back here." They walked off while Aden and Derek stood around and watched them.

Aden was amused, "how do you think they're going to do?"

Derek smiled, "someone won't pay attention to the security they put in place and they're going to get punched."

Aden laughed, "my money's on Bobby, that fucker does not listen."

****

"How's your mum and aunt?"

Happy smiled, "mum's MS is alright, it's progressing as slowly as it can. The drug y/n got her onto has been really good but we always knew it would only do so much. Right now it's about keeping her alive until a new one can come out. My aunt's fine, you know what it like."

Jax nodded, "and Eva, y/n says she's been having fun on your dates."

Happy smiled, "she's great, after all this is done, I'm going to learn how to raise puppies. I figured you would have a problem if I brought them into the shop."

Jax shook his head, "not at all, we could use something good anyway."

****

Juice pointed to the cluster of rocks and Tig followed his finger, "yeah, good idea. If you climb up I'll pass you all the stuff. You're sure this is legal?"

Juice nodded, "the cabin's property line ends about twenty feet that east, we can have as many cameras around here as we like. Come on, I'll show you how to put them up."

****

"Why does it need to be so loud?"

Phil shrugged and handed the cans to Chibs, "the cabin is pretty close by, we leaned in class that scary people is just as effective at ambushing them then as knowing the area."

****

"Help me lift that log over that way?" Opie followed Kozik as he showed him what he meant.

"You been having fun?" Opie was tired and the last fourteen days felt like one long marathon but he could see the light at the end of the tunnel and he was looking forward to reaching it.

Kozik grunted as they carried the log to block the track, "I am, everything fucking hurts but I'm having fun."

Opie chuckled, "and you're finally upstairs, you were such a shit shot I was bing to think you were blind."

Kozik shook his head, "I think Frank was getting sick of me."

****

Derek and Aden were wrong, as the day wound down and they settled into learning everything they could to protect the cabin, they moved on to the next step of patrolling the area. Jax did his best to listen to Phil about where he placed all the booby traps but he was tired and he had been walking about with Happy for hours. One missed them had him tripping a fishing line, and the sound of crashing filled the air.

The other came running and Phil looked at the scene before rearing his fist back and punching Jax in the face, he stumbled but didn't fall the reach up to his cheek if he was bleeding, "sorry man, I knew you said to be careful."

Phil huffed, "I worked on that for hours."

Jax raised his hands in apology, "I know. I'll help you put it back together."

Derek couldn't text you fast enough.

"Everything is great. I think it's finally settled in, they know what they're going now. I see no reason to keep sticking to the basic stuff."

You cracked an eye open and reached over to see why your phone was buzzing, the text making you smile.

"I'll give all of them the next two days off while I work it out. You think they'll be able to handle the changes?"

"Yep. Throwing them in the deep end has worked so far, why not keep it up?"

You rubbed your face, "you're right, make sure to print off all the new medical training, I'll give them a few extra days to study."

Derek sighed and looked out at the group, "sixteen more days and your life is going to get a whole lot easier."

You smiled, "I can't fucking wait."

Part 60

[blindrapture]

july 28.

the end of San Francisco, a rapture log play in five acts.

july 24th, act 1, was 3,000 words. july 25th, act 2, was 2,500 words. july 26th, act 3, was 8,800 words. july 27th, act 4, was 6,100 words. july 28th, act 5, was 4,700 words.

the total is 25,100 words. for one serial in the greater story's act 2. this was over a third of the length of act 1 as a whole. and also like half of a nanowrimo? but I wrote San Francisco over the course of... about a week, back in late April or early May. I'm still not ready to tell you the word count for act 2 as a whole.

they're big numbers, these word counts. but now that you've actually read some Long Logs, you might have an idea of why I don't want to give the big numbers until you're done! these logs are actually pretty damn engaging! to know ahead of time how long it is would be discouragement, or even a real risk of discouragement. and I want readers. :( (plus, how do you think I feel? having to write the damn stuff! when I saw the total word count for act 2, that actually just made it way harder to start act 3. I gotta keep reminding myself that short logs are okay!)

...so.

so San Francisco.

if you were to go back and read the earlier drafts of this serial, the difference is stark. a couple of elements are the same: Jordan and Donnie have a disagreement, they're staying with these RAF folks (with the same names), on day 4 they burn down the Golden Gate Bridge as things go bad, and on day 5 the Judge takes the city. but the old serial was.... oh my god so empty. so short.

there's a reason for this. I mean, yes, I wrote it when I was 16 years old, but I had already demonstrated I was interested in challenging myself, taking the time to make plots more elaborate. but the problem was this was November 2011, and I was going through hell. I had run away from home, given a plane ticket to go back to America, was staying in a house where I wasn't really.. wanted! had gotten myself back into high school, entirely of my own accord. was sleeping in the damn living room for months in a house of 10 residents, with my brother as landlord. my brother may have been able to stick up for me more, but he had jobs keeping him out of the house. so I had to deal with the catty underhanded group dynamics myself, when I was home from school; I had no bedroom to retreat to. even though this literally was the house I had grown up in, now deteriorating with garbage and poor upkeep by all these residents. and anyway, then, in November, one last resident had a beef with me. it wasn't because of anything I had done. it was just vibes. he was like that. and he had guns, and he had crude sensibilities, and he liked to think of himself as a drill instructor, and.

god I really hated that guy. >_< he was the basis for the Cody character. though Cody is much less of an asshole. the real guy wouldn't have ever given me a chance to explain myself, wouldn't have disarmed himself, wouldn't have stopped until I was gone. because he didn't! I left. I went home. not immediately, and not directly because of him, but. it was bad news after bad news, okay, and all things being equal I might have been able to face it all, staying in America was what I was made for... but I was already damaged goods. I didn't have it in me anymore.

and. yeah. I also didn't have it in me to give rapture the treatment it deserved.

so. fast forward to 2024, and I'm already rewriting act 2, and I get to San Francisco and feel this immense... shame inside me. I did not like to revisit that serial, because of the time of my life that it represented, and when I did revisit it there was nothing fucking there. so I knew I had to rewrite it better. apparently I took that real seriously. I think San Francisco is one of the best parts of the story now and can only hope I can match it later on.

but, like. one of the things I did in rewriting San Francisco was fictionalize the Cody character more. by fleshing him out, basing him off of more influences (such as Alex Kralie!), giving him more time to speak and show his own nuances, I was able to... if not "put some closure on the past," then at least disentangle some memories and separate the past from this story of mine that means... so much...

yeah. writing the new San Fran was therapeutic. and it produced a really cool piece of fiction. a tale of humanity, another look at our gods. another chance for EAT to speak.

yeah.

///////////////////

music pieces referenced in log 5, "Synecdoche."

first is "Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary," by Henry Purcell. the actual original piece is somewhat obscure, but depending on what media you grew up with, as soon as you hear the horns come in you'll know exactly how it goes.

what a fucking piece. brilliant chord progressions. gives me chills.

as Jordan mentioned in the log, he had heard the song through much more modern contexts.

Kubrick nuts, and also all you trans girls out there, will be much more familiar with Wendy Carlos's rendition of the piece, as used in the opening to A Clockwork Orange.

but then I, me, DJay and Jordan, I did not grow up with this. (I didn't watch A Clockwork Orange until I was about 14 or 15, and I really wasn't much of a film appreciator then. the film bored me, except when it wigged me out.)

I grew up with Conker's Bad Fur Day.

honestly, if you haven't ever seen this game, I've gotta recommend it. seeing it. not really playing it. it is the one and only Rare game I grew up with, and was probably the N64 game that my brothers and I played the most. I was watching this game when I was 9 years old. (I have since gone on to beat it myself. it's a journey, for sure! but brutally hard at random times.)

it's actually almost definitely a big influence on me. when I stop and think, "hey, actually, Conker was a long unbroken journey filled with pastiches taken weirdly seriously, featuring a guy who's too tired to really object to the ridiculousness around him," I.. yeah, that definitely had a hand in shaping me as a storyteller. plus, "Nintendo with adult themes" means everything to me. "a game that should not exist" means everything to me. and frankly it is a way more clever video game than it had any right to be.

but. anyway. Conker begins with a pastiche of the opening to A Clockwork Orange. and I will have seen that cutscene a thousand times-- and yet I never got tired of it. the song especially makes it so rewatchable. such class. god, what a song.

.....right, anyway.

the other song referenced in the log is:

the thing is, there is no way Jordan would have known the name of this piece, nor the name of the person who wrote it. by all accounts, he would have just been like "oh yeah, it's That song." and I would have written it that way, but.

there's just no way to fucking casually refer to this song using words. there are, I mean, there are ways to, but those ways would also refer to many other pieces of classical music.

so I took some artistic license. hell, maybe the Legstep first played an audio file of some deep-voice man saying "Good morning. We'll start off this beautiful morning with a classic. This is Edvard Grieg, Morgenstimmung." and so maybe Jordan's words are a shortening of that. that's plausible.

but the point was, Jordan woke up in this gorgeous natural rabbit hole hearing one very specific song. you know the song. I promise you, you do, with 100% certainty.

yeah, you know the one.

I dunno, I thought this was somewhat funny.

it's also a dividing line. before this point, we were still in the San Francisco serial, albeit in a sort of coda to it. after sleeping, we're waking up to some new plotline. a new A-plot.

and that A-plot begins with this song.

/////////////

if you're wondering what "synecdoche" is, or "sin-ECK-duh-key," you can google it. or I guess I could just tell you.

it's a specific rhetorical device, one you'll also be familiar with, if not the word for it. it's the use of a Piece in substitution for the Whole. or vice versa, the use of a Whole in substitution for a Piece!

the example I usually know it by is, like. newspaper articles saying "the White House responded to the news..." where "the White House" is used as a Whole, substituting for the Piece (the White House's press response team!). or "Hollywood won't like that..." using "Hollywood" to refer to some specific people within Hollywood.

that's synecdoche! it's rhetoric. it's used in journalism and poetry alike.

this log is titled synecdoche for... some reasons. admittedly I don't entirely remember them all. but the obvious one is the court of the Judge, where he makes his sentence by synecdoche, assigning the same sentence to the individual as to the whole city. it's not fair for making sentences. but the Judge probably isn't all that fair, is he?

alright. see you tomorrow. :)

[lionheartslowstart]

Back Again

This weekend I took an impromptu trip to Los Angeles. (Okay, so it wasn't exactly impromptu but I can't say the real reason yet 🤫.) I've been jittery all week, but it wasn't until I was actually on the plane and the pilot announced, "Welcome to Flight blah blah, nonstop to LA. Our flight today will be 5 hours and 36 minutes. We will be departing shortly," that it actually hit me. I'll be going home this weekend.

I know that sounds crazy, to refer to a place I've been to 3 times (soon to be 4) for a total of about 6 weeks as "home." But that's genuinely how it feels to me. It just feels...correct.

New York hasn't felt that way in a long time for me. In fact, ever since I got back from LA last summer, a deep-seated resentment of New York has been slowly festering within me. It's strange, I used to love New York. I used to dream of having a big loft-style apartment in the heart of Manhattan. Now I'm itching to leave not just the city, but the whole state.

How did this happen? I can't know for sure, but I believe there are two reasons. The first boils down to all the trauma I've sustained over the last ten years. College was far and away the worst period of my life, and I would hardly call the years after that "better." I think on some level New York was basically ruined for me.

The other contributing factor is that I simply never imagined I could live far away from my family, which is also essentially my support system. And I'm not just talking about my immediate family. I'm quite close with my extended family as well. All of them, with one exception, live in the tri-state area, or at least close by. The idea of living in Los Angeles wasn't even on my radar. And why would I even dream of it, when I loved New York so much? But then I went to LA for the first time in 2018, and suddenly it was a possibility. And as time passed and I continued to grow and heal, it became even more of a possibility.

A few weeks ago, I made a post alluding to a decision I had made. I suppose this is the Part 2.

Right before New Years, I made the impulse decision to apply to grad school, something I always said I would never do. Yet, I had a sudden urge to make that leap. At the time, it felt like the right choice. I've been in and out of the game, as I call it, for a while now, and what better way to firmly get back in than to go back to school? This time would be different. I was undiagnosed while I was in college, but now that I know I'm autistic, I would be able to navigate school better and hopefully get some kind of accommodations. But above all, I could go to school in the place I love the most, and in doing so, build a community in my industry IN that city, which is where I want to end up anyway. I submitted my application on New Year's Eve, along with a killer personal statement (if I do say so myself), and a few days after that, they invited me to audition.

This is where it all goes downhill.

As I sat in the orientation, listening to the two instructors drone on and on, something didn't feel right. When I tell you these people were pretentious, I mean they probably thought their shit tasted like ice cream. I have never in my life encountered someone who took themselves more seriously. It would have been funny if it wasn't so somber. They reminded me so much of the instructors I had in college. They were not at all the kinds of people I wanted to work with.

I will also add I had a very unpleasant interaction with the worse professor of the two. Essentially, I asked a question, and he spoke down to me and basically told me I shouldn't be applying to grad school. His response was condescending, nasty, and frankly, ableist, especially considering he should have known I was autistic if he had actually read my application.

I wish I could say I came up with some witty response on the fly, but I did not. I was so stunned that he would speak that way to someone just asking a question, let alone a prospective student. But in that moment, I realized that, no, this didn't feel right. It wasn't the answer I thought it was.

Then I bombed the audition. I mean I BOMBED. I was too nervous and upset, and I took some bad advice right before my slot (which you should never, ever do). But you know what? I was okay with it. I walked out of that room already knowing I would receive a rejection letter, and I didn't care. Those people disgusted me, and I loathed the idea of being stuck with them for three years.

Still, there was an itch. I knew I was on the right track, even if grad school (or at least, THAT grad school) was not the answer. And as I sat in that room and listened to these two pompous academics jerk each other off for an hour, I realized what it was.

I don't need a "reason" to move to LA. I can just do it.

Yes, it would be harder (much, much harder) to start from scratch out there, as opposed to moving there for a project or to go to school. But so what? I'll hopefully be able to transfer at my job, I'll look for gigs as a PA, and I'll keep going on auditions. Besides, it's not like I don't know ANYONE out there. I have a few contacts, so I'm not actually starting completely from scratch. Still, it will be a challenge to say the least. But I have to try. I have to.

So far, I have only received support, encouragement, and positive feedback from the people in my life. From day one, everyone I know has told me they believe in me, and that belief seems never to have wavered, despite the fact that it's been over 10 years and I still have nothing to show for it. (Well, not nothing, but very, very little.)

When I shared my plans with her, my best friend "Diana" said to me, "Sophie, your miracle is coming. If it was going to happen in New York, it would have happened by now. But I think you're going to find it out there, I really do."

One of my friends of 16 years just yesterday told me, "I have always thought you will make it, and I haven't changed my mind."

And my boyfriend, "Thomas?" He told me under no uncertain terms that he will come with me. "You're the only thing I'm sure about, Sophie." That's a direct quote. I'm so lucky to have someone like him as a partner. He's never even been to LA! We're going in a few months, so hopefully he loves it too.

These are just some of the responses I've gotten. There hasn't been a single person I've shared this choice with who has discouraged me. Not a one. And I just feel like that has to mean something, if so many people believe in me. It's helping me to believe in myself again.

So...I'm moving. Our lease is up at the end of August, so we still have plenty of time. But also, that's really not a lot of time! It's nerve-wracking, but it feels right. Like I said, I have to try. I figure I'll give it three years, and if it doesn't work out, I'll come back to New York with my tail between my legs. But man oh man I hope it doesn't come to that. And honestly, even if my Big Dreams don't come true...I think I'd stay out there. I genuinely just really love Los Angeles. I'm certain that I would want to live there no matter what my career was. There's just something magical about it. (Note: I'm posting this after my weekend trip, and I legit started crying on my way to drop off the rental car, so there you go.)

Of course I'll miss my family and friends terribly. That will be the hardest part, without a doubt. But we'll all find time to visit each other, and talk on the phone as much as possible. Besides, I won't be totally alone. I'll have Thomas by my side, taking the ride with me.

I'm beyond excited for this next chapter in my life. It feels like I'm finally aligning with the path I was meant to take. Whatever happens, at least I can say I took the leap.

[thebreakfastgenie]

#so Mike Alan AND Jamie were in the military irl??? omg#I love you DOS thank you for never doing that king <3<3<3#the virgin imperialist puppet cast members vs the chad hippie David Ogden Stiers#mash#mash cast @charlesemersonwinchesteriii

Military service was mandatory for American men at the time! It's very common for men of that age to have been in the military in some capacity. Peacetime service can look a lot of different ways, especially if you have education or specialized training. To this day, men are required to register with the selective service when they turn 18, though it has not been implemented in decades.

Jamie was drafted and it actually set his career back, although when he talks about it he says that's just how it was back then, everybody served, and seems somewhat positive about that. He was also actually in Korea, although it was after the war, and he wore his own dog tags in MASH.

Mike joined the Marines right out of high school because he didn't know what he wanted to do with his life, and in his book he talks about it as a positive formative experience, but he did become a pacifist, so I imagine he's fairly critical of the military institutions. He's certainly critical of US foreign policy, and has been since at least the seventies

Alan joined ROTC because he had to do it one way or another and that was the easy way, basically, and as he put it, never quite got his mind around the Army thinking they could tell him what to do. He asked for permission to leave the base every weekend so he could go see Arlene and when he didn't get permission he just went anyway. I'm pretty sure Alan Alda was AWOL more times in real life than Hawkeye ever was in MASH. When he finished his six months at Fort Benning he was supposed to report to the reserve office in New York, but he wrote them a letter saying "I'm going on my honeymoon, see you in three weeks" and went off to Mexico. When he finally showed up they were like where tf have you been, we almost called the FBI and he was like "didn't you get my letter?" His hearing also got fucked up in the Army. The one good thing he says he got out of it was how to organize large groups of people, which came in handy for directing.

What I was sort of obliquely referencing is that when Alan Alda was an artillery instructor (which he claims didn't last long and he got put in charge of the mess tent) he was experiencing a moral crisis about teaching people how to kill people, which manifested in psychosomatic back pain every time he put on his uniform (sound familiar?).

There were obviously some men from that era who never served for a variety of reasons, particularly if they weren't between 18 and 25 during a war, but it was very different from the post-Vietnam era where the US has a volunteer military. Mike is the only one who actually enlisted by choice.

BJ looks so much more natural in class As than Hawkeye does and I think this reflects the actors' respective attitudes towards their real life military service.