#yeah yeah i know he goes all pale and scared and relieved after you fight that other dragon later on but what about Right Now

[sovonight]

can you believe that i raced my way over to kill thaxll'ssillyia to see what xan might say if i walked right into a second dragon battle and he said NOTHING??? unbelievable. i drew this instead

[mona-tiktak]

ok so we know robin has the "you rule, you suck" board in v3 where she keeps track of steve absolutely failing to get dates.

what if, and hear me out, steve purposely bombed. not bc he was still hung up on nancy or bc he lost all his charisma.

but bc he was scared of getting close to anyone again. scared that he would start a relationship to drag them into the shit with the upside down. scared thay it would only blow up in his face. scared to be called fake or bullshit.

in v2 where nancy calls him bullshit, and says they werent in love, that it wasnt real and then she goes to cheat on him.

that had to have had a lasting impact on him. he purposely acts like "king steve" to get the disgusted looks, the let downs, the what have yous. he acted put out by not getting a date but in reality he was happy they turned him down, relieved even.

i also have this thought that eddie, max and eleven are really the only ones who notice that the sigh he lets out is not actually a sigh of defeat but rather relief. not dustin bc hes away at camp. this leads to another hc. still in same universe as this.

it would change the confession scene in the bathroom after the russian truth serum. making it go differently.

the scene would go a lil something like this:

There's a shuffling in the stall next to Steve followed by a huff, "Fuck it," is muttered softly.

"Have you ever been in love before?" Robin asked, demanded even.

Steve lets out a scornful snort before replying "Once, with Nancy Wheeler."

"That priss?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Though priss is not the word I'd use to describe her."

"Are you still in love with her?" Robin's voice was curious, soft.

"No. Definitely not," he said, staring at the ceiling. The room may have stopped spinning but the lights still looked like stars to him with left eye swollen shut and the pounding in his head. "Haven't been since that Halloween night, I think, honestly."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say Nancy is a bit of a mean drunk and the feelings that I thought were returned, weren't."

He pulled his eyes away from the lights above and stared down at his hands. His left pointer finger was crooked and felt as it were on fire every time he so much as grazed it. The knuckles on his right hand hurt in a way they hadn't after his fight with Billy. Flexing his right hand sent a flare of blistering pain across the back of his hand, up his forearm and now the knuckles moved in a strange way.

There was another shuffle from behind him and suddenly a hand encompassed his wrist. He looked over and saw Robin's face, her expression was pinched.

"I'm sorry," she croaked out.

"It's okay."

"It's really not."

He barked out a laugh and shrugged. "It's not, but it will be."

She nodded sagely. He looked back at his left hand again, this time looking closer at the middle finger. The interrogater had ripped it off in an effort to get the answers he wanted but Steve hadn't cracked. His only goal during all the pain was to keep the others safe.

"Dustin said something to be about needing to find my Suzie."

"Suzie?" she questioned, one eyebrow arched.

"Some girl he met during his trip away, I'm not entirely sure she exists but that's besides the point," he said. "Pretty sure the little shit was trying to say was I need to find my own Suzie. At first I didn't really want to. I mean I thought that Nancy Wheeler had been my Suzie and she broke my heart and that's not an experience I want to relive in all honesty."

He stopped and looked down at her, "I think I understand what he meant now."

"Steve," she whispered stricken, her face pale. The palest it had been in the last two days, really. "What are you saying?"

"I mean I meet the most awesome girl this summer. One who isn't afraid to speak her mind as well as four languages and who helped me keep two dumb, smartass kids safe, what about that doesn't seem like someone I wan-"

"I'm a lesbian," she interrupted loudly. Her hand still gently clutching his wrist. "That thing about Mrs. Click's class and the staring wasn't because I was obsessed with you but because she was and I couldn't stand it." Tears had begun to well in her wide eyes but she made no move to wipe them away. "You always got crumbs everywhere and always asked the most ridiculous questions and I wanted her to look at me like she looked at you."

"Mrs. Click?" he asked, with equal measure shock and concern and Robin let out a wet snort of laughter.

"Oh my god no!" she exclaimed. "Tammy, Tammy Thompson."

"Ah, ok. That makes more sense," he chortled softly. Robin's hand disappeared from his wrist and he took the opportunity to slip his hand into hers. "If you had let me finished before you so rudely interrupted me. You would've known that I want you in my life but I didn't mean it romantically Robin. I want you in it as a friend."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"It doesn't bother you?" she asked, after a moment.

"Does what bother me?"

"That I'm a lesbian?"

"No, it doesn't," he replied. "However you could do so much better than Tammy Thompson, she's a total dud."

it continues to follow canon from there. sorry if its a bit sloppy i havent written in a while but i hope you enjoyed.

[crazyvaleska]

The Red Means I Love You | Jerome Valeska X GN! Reader

warnings: mention of self harm and child abuse, blood kink, hematolagnia. please do not read this if you're sensitive when it comes to blood cause it might be triggering. idk this is really dark and twisted.

the song that inspired me to write this was "the read means i love you" by madds buckley.

also i apologize for any grammar errors, english isn't my first language and it's late at night as i'm writing this.

"I'm home!" your boyfriend called as he entered your apartment. He had been gone all day looking for his long lost twin brother, Jeremiah. He had claimed that the reason why he was looking for him was to get revenge for the things Jeremiah had accused him of doing back when they were kids.

You were in your bedroom watching TV but you could hear his steps approaching the room. You were excited to see him, yeah, he was a murderer, but he was your murderer. And if you were being honest you did miss him a lot.

"Did you find hi-" you stopped when he entered the room. Your excitement flushed away when you saw his pale face covered in blood. His nose was bleeding uncontrollably. This shouldn't surprise since your boyfriend was, in fact, the infamous Jerome Valeska, the serial killer who's killed thousands in cold blood. And yet here you were, worried about his nose that just didn't seem to ever stop bleeding. He noticed your worried expression and smiled.

"Not yet." he answered casually as he closed the door. He took a few steps closer then sat next to you on the bed.

"Jerome-" you started but he stopped you pressing his index finger against your lips.

"Shhhh! I'm fine, doll. Just got into a fight with some guys earlier. Not a big deal, really. You don't need to worry about me." he forced a smile.

"You're lying." was all Y/N replied.

He didn't answer that. He just stared at you intensely in silence. He was so quiet, that was so unlike him. What was he planning? Did he get bored of you? Did he not need you anymore? Was he going to kill you?

"What makes you think that?" he briefly mumbled.

"The blood's too fresh. If it started bleeding due to a fight then the blood would be dry by now... 'Rome, did you..." you paused and looked at the bloody tips of his fingers and nails then looked back at him only for him to look away. He sighed.

"Good observation. Fine. Yeah, I did this to myself by scratching the inner side of my nostrils with my nails, see? I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"J, you should stop hurting yourself. This isn't okay." you said as you took his hand on yours. He turned his face to look at you again and let out a soft giggle.

"It's just.. blood gives me so much comfort, you know Y/N? I don't know how to explain it, but everytime I see blood I feel so relieved. Bleeding is just so wonderful, you know? And not just seeing other people bleeding to death. I love feeling it. I love feeling my own hot blood pouring down my cold skin. I like to bite my lips till they bleed. And then I like to lick it all. Same goes when I cut my wrists. And I love the scars. If I could I would peel off my skin and bathe in a blood bath." he paused and gave you a big sincere smile, an excited smile, while squeezing your hands. Then he spoke again.

"I know how insane this sounds. Oh well, what are you gonna do about it? I guess I'm just really fucked up, aren't I? You know, I wasn't always like this. Until he started making up those stories that poisoned our mom. And he got away with it while I had to suffer the consequences of his cruel lies. She used to get drunk and started to beat me up very often, and after that she would bang random guys. At first I was so scared. Because sometimes she would beat me up until I bled. She didn't care about my desperate cries for help, no one did. It was so bad sometimes I would even cough or throw up on my own blood." he sounded so emotionless.

"But then I got used to it. And when she wasn't the one harming me I was harming myself. It started as a way of punishing myself for being so weak but then I started enjoying it. I started killing small animals, and after doing so I used to reward myself by cutting my skin. It's just so addicting. So addicting and so comforting when I do it, yet so terrifying when she did it. Funny how most people won't get it. Unfortunate. They say such a shame I turned out this way: a maniac. Well, yeah I get manic when I cause a panic and of course I'm excited when I see you around."

An evil grin creeped up his face. He was speaking with such passion now it was terrifying. The smile never left his face and his grip was tight. He was clearly out of his mind, and so were you. Because if you were truly sane you wouldn't be dating a murderer. He cleared his throat and moved close to your ear and whispered:

"Oh, if only you knew the things I wanna do to you. I want to choke you till you pass out. I want to bruise your pretty body. I want to bite you and smell your blood. I want to carve my initials all over your body. I want to cut you open and taste your blood, I bet you taste so so sweet, doll. You'd look so pretty smeared in blood. And not just your blood. My blood as well. Oh, to see you covered in my dark red blood. Red's a beautiful color, isn't it?"

And before you knew it he was sitting on top of you, still whispering his dirty little desires into your ear. You could feel his hot breath against your ear. When his bloody lips touched your ear you shivered. You knew how wrong this was. He needed professional help. You should help him get sane, not obey his insanity. You should be frightened, and part of you was. But you would be lying if you said you weren't enjoying this little chat or if you said Jerome wasn't attractive with all that blood pouring down his nostrils. He placed a slow and deep kiss on your earlobe and then moved to your neck, leaving a small trace of blood on your skin. He slowly digged his teeth into your flesh then sucked the spot. Your lips let out a small moan of pain and pleasure.

He smirked against your neck then tilted his head so he was now facing you. He reached his pocket and pulled out a small dagger.

"Because my insides are red..." he pressed the dagger against your cheek, leaving a deep cut. You whimpered in pain as the cold blade penetrated your skin.

"And yours are too," he dropped the weapon "And the red on my face is matching you." he touched his bloody nose, then your bloody cheek and then smiled in excitement.

"And goodness you're bleeding, what a wonderful feeling! You're down and you're pleading, my head is just reeling" he cupped your face with his hands and moved his face so close to yours, your lips were almost touching.

"The Red Means I Love You" he whispered before closing the space between you two, pressing his lips against yours, allowing you to taste the salty blood on his lips. He was kissing you like there was no tomorrow, while his hands traveled down your neck, beginning to choke you. When he pulled away he began to lick your harmed cheek. Your blood tasted so sweet, he just couldn't get enough of it, he loved it so much.

"Tasting your blood means I Love You"

But his grip around your neck tightened and your vision began to blurry. You tried to breathe but that didn't seem like an option. Before you passed out your heard him whisper again the same sentence he's whispered before:

"The Red Means I Love You!"

_________________________________

sorry this is short, it's like 3am and i got inspired by this edit i made a few days ago

[flareish]

Anxiety

kuroo x reader

summary: you hide your anxiety from basically everyone including your boyfriend, until he finds out for himself

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: Emetophobia Warning! description of nausea/vomit, anxiety, bit of angst but ends in fluff

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I tried to make this as close to my anxiety since I hadn’t known anyone with my kind of anxiety(symptom wise) until I was seventeen, which was a good ways into when I realized I had anxiety. So here is some nausea anxiety representation!

masterlist

You tap your fingers in a mindless rhythm. Alternating the fingers and repeating them back and forth, trying to make it a game, a challenge. You did this over and over again to distract yourself from that all too familiar sinking feeling. That feeling like your stomach has managed to twist and knot itself a million times. Each bump of the bus made acid crawl up your throat. You crunched a mint in your mouth hoping the peppermint would soothe some of the nausea. It didn’t, but the thought was there. You just will yourself not to throw up on the bus, anything but that. The thought in itself makes you even more nervous, and in turn even sicker.

You don’t even know why you are anxious. Today is Kuroo’s big game, but it isn’t yours. You’ve been to a hundred of his games before but never before did you feel like this. Normally you get cute little butterflies, not an angry swarm of bees. The worst part is, there is Kuroo sat next to you happy as can be, completely oblivious. He keeps trying to drag you into conversations but you fear if you open your mouth for too long, all that will come up is vomit. So you keep your mouth firmly closed only smiling tightly or shaking your head at his prompts.

It's not exactly his fault though. He doesn’t actually know you have anxiety. It’s not something you really like to talk about. You are all for promoting the acceptance of mental health but you just find every time you tell someone the dynamic changes. Either they flat out don’t believe you since you “don’t seem like the type with anxiety”. Well duh, I don’t have social anxiety, I have situational anxiety. Like here in this situation. That or they suddenly treat me like I am incapable of handling myself. That whenever a slightly stressful event comes up, I am going to melt into a puddle of pure anxiety. Sorry but I’ve made it this far, I may have to throw up a few times on the way but I am still making it. 

So you just haven’t told Kuroo. You're just nervous that it will change the dynamic. You also don’t want to steal his spotlight. Today is supposed to be all about him. It's his big game. To suddenly speak up and tell him that his game is giving you anxiety would be selfish. So like you always have, you put a brave face on and face it head-on.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kuroo asks you, now facing you, “You look a little pale.”

“Hmm?,” You also turn to look at him, “Oh I am just a bit tired that’s all. I will be fine in an hour or so.” You hope at least. He nods relieved it's not something worse. 

You finally pull into the stadium and everyone is pushing their way off the bus. Luckily Kuroo is right by you to make sure you don't get accidentally pushed down the bus stairs and trampled. The team makes it’s to the bulletin board where they are given their matchups. Nekoma is paired with a pretty hard team. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you dry heave. You knew at the point you were going to throw up and within the next few minutes. 

“Hey I think I left something in the bus I’ll be right back.” You say to Kuroo before dashing off. He goes to reply but you are already gone. 

You make it around the back of the building before you throw up. At this point you’re kinda out of it, your mind is occupied on emptying your already empty stomach. Then you feel someone pull your hair back and gently rub your back. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Kuroo. When you finish he hands you his water bottle.  You waterfall it and rinse your mouth out of that acidic taste. 

“What’s going on are you okay?” Kuroo asks full of concern. You hesitate for a moment, thinking of telling the truth. Then you remember this is supposed to be his day. 

“Sorry I must have caught a stomach bug.” He doesn’t completely buy it so you quickly add to it.

“I didn't feel great on the bus but I just thought it was because I was tired.” You feel bad lying, “I also don’t want to distract you before your game.” At that Kuroo quickly pulls you into a hug, “Your not a distraction, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Your cheek is pressed against his chest and your hands grip the front of his shirt. 

“We should probably head back.” You mumble.

“Yeah.” He leans down to kiss you but you duck away. He looks incredibly offended and hurt at this.

“Dude I just threw up I don’t know if you want to do that.” 

“…Point.”

The two of you head back inside to the team, you feeling much better after throwing up. Before you know it, the competition has begun and Nekoma has won. You run down and celebrate with the team and it’s a happy day.

On the bus ride home Kuroo has a strange energy about him. Not like he’s mad more just like he’s just realized something. You nudge him and smile hoping to break him out of his little funk. He immediately smiles back and goes back to celebrating with the team. His reaction was almost like putting a mask on. You watch him for a moment before slipping into a conversation of your own.

When you make it back to school you go your separate ways. Him going to shower, and you to get home before it gets too late. A big hug before pushing away. You still refusing to kiss him after throwing up earlier in the day. 

You are laying on your bed, exhausted. Anxiety really takes a toll on your energy. Your thoughts are broken when your phone chimes with a text.  Leaning over to grab your phone off your bedside table you see it is from Kuroo. 

“Can you come over? I want to talk.”

No cute pet names. No slowly easing into it. Actually using proper grammar. Nothing in that message was a good sign. Just “I want to talk” was enough to make the acid begin to crawl again. You knew it had to be about today. Especially after you saw him zoning out on the bus. It had to be your anxiety episode. You knew he wouldn’t be happy you lied but going to this extent. Like he just found out you have anxiety and this is what he hits you with? The world’s most nerve-wracking text message. The only worse place than this would be “we need to talk”. That’s when you have really screwed up. So maybe you’ve only minorly screwed up since he said want not need. Does that mean you have the choice to say no? That was kind of tempting but you knew you would be tossing and turning all night thinking about what might be wrong. 

“Okay.” You reply to the text. Short and sweet. Putting on some shoes and grabbing a hoodie, you quietly slip out of your house. Kuroo’s house wasn’t too far but it was far enough. Enough to continue to stir in your intrusive and unstoppable thoughts. You eventually make it to his house and head in going straight for his room. Before you reach the door you hesitate and gather yourself. Preparing for whatever was about to come. 

When you go in you find Kuroo sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the bed. He jerkily looks up and you and gives you a tight smile. None of this is giving good signs. Something is very heavy on his mind. You sit down across from him, your back against the wall your feet almost touching. 

“So what was it you wanting to talk about.” You break the silence. He doesn’t respond for a moment. Just as you are about to try again he speaks up.

“Do you still love me?” Your face drops into confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I love you anymore?” You ask, suddenly realizing this wasn’t the conversation you were prepping yourself for. 

“You’ve been distant lately. You don’t tell me things like when you don’t feel good. I thought about it when I got home and I was wondering if you weren’t actually sick but just making the excuse because you got caught.” He’s very serious at the moment and his words hold a cold edge. 

“What do you mean get caught?” You match his tone. You weren’t planning on fighting but something about how he said it just set something off in you.

“You didn’t want to be there. Ever since this morning you were quiet and reserved. Even after the game, you wouldn’t even kiss me-”

“Yeah, cause I threw up! And how could I be faking it when I literally threw up.” You snap.

“You’ve been like this before though! Like last year’s big tournament you would barely talk to me.”

“That’s not true!” Although it kind of was just not the reason he thought.

“Oh yeah? What about at training camp you wouldn’t talk to me then either, you didn’t even eat with us you just sat on your own.” He threw back.

“Yeah, cause I have anxiety!” The words left your mouth before you knew it. Kuroo looked taken back.

“What?” His brow furrows, “Since when?” He’s not sure what to believe. You’re not surprised since you have worked very hard to hide it from everyone, accidentally sabotaging your own relationship without even knowing it. 

“Since forever. I just never told anyone.” You quietly say, ducking your head down.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You didn’t even need to look up to see the hurt on his face, it was apparent in his voice. You start playing with your finger, tapping them in rhythms.

“I wanted to,” You mumble, “But whenever I do stuff changes and I didn’t want anything to change.” He shifts forward and you think he’s going to leave. Instead, he grabs your hands, stopping the pattern you had going. You look up.

“Did you think I would judge you?” He was staring straight into you, willing the truth to come out.

“Whenever I tell people they either don’t believe me and brush it off or treat me like I’m incapable of handling any amount of stress. I’ve never seen anyone react any differently so I was scared you would fall into one of those reactions and I didn’t know how I could handle that. I didn’t want my anxiety to be the thing to tear us apart. But I guess it still was.” By the end of your speech, your gaze has returned back to the floor, unable to hold eye contact for that long with him staring at you so strongly. You hear him sigh then you are pulled forward and into his arms. 

“I want to be your pillar of support. I want to be that third reaction that is one of acceptance, one that doesn’t drive you crazy.” He strokes your hair soothingly, his words making you tear up, “When you are ready I want you to tell me everything. From when you first noticed it, to where it is now, to how you deal with it, everything.” By now you are fully crying, absolutely collapsed into his chest. “I love you so much.” It gets muffled in his shirt but he hears it.

“I know, and I love you.”

It would take some time for Kuroo to get used to this change but slowly but surely he will be different from the rest and he will support you no matter what. Although he also respects your strength and knows you can handle your anxiety on your own, he is always there when you need it. He becomes the third unexpected and unheard-of reaction; acceptance.

[hey-hamlet]

*slides in on socks* hey can we hear more abt that bnha cult au, the one where bc mido is quirkless and the cult town thinks hes better for it

So I’m probably going to be too lazy to actually write that as a full fic, so lemme go find my brainstorming and yeet it here for you all! Under a read more bc this is long and messy.

The whole fic takes place over either 1 or 1.5 months

Quirks = route of evil, those without powers are closest to the divine's intentions and anything subverting them from that should be expunged. Closer to normal you look = purer you are. Izuku is considered near gold standard excluding his green hair

2000 people in the town - 82 are quirkless (marked with a band - where? Wrist, neck or?)

Global quirkless pop = 20% but japan is 5%, much much lower in Izuku's generation, movement has been around since the dawn of quirks - infanticide

100 people statistically would make sense but rate of quirkless births vs quirkless people is very different as many die due to poor patient care

Some members of the town are the grieving parents of people who's quirkless children were killed as doctors didn't listen to them - some of the first people izuku meet

"Hizashi's family" Invite izuku over - they aren't related, it's part of a plot where they look at quirk records to invite the quirkless to join. Those who do not are disposed of in the woods.

The quirkless are treated like royalty, free food + other stuff

Anyone not on board is killed - settlement is new but buildings are old - the prior town was chased out/killed to make room for the cult. They used to meet in normal churches but quirkless supporting cults were cracked down on so they relocated into the woods by taking over a town

Start the fic w izuku getting off the train, Town is called Rishi, based the town off Nanmoku

Mum: Miyatani Haiyu Dad: Miyatani Juzou Daughter: Miyatani Kei

Need a very secretive, insular vibe - the place has no wifi, a church radio station and a townhall

Timeline

Arival Bakugo and Izuku take the train, Bakugo is there bc his mother told him to go: Inko was worried about sending Izuku off alone so she offered up bakugo to play guard dog. Bakugo is pissed. 

Bakugo will have a blow up about being there pretty early, izuku will try and soothe him which will only make him angrier. Is shinsou there? 

Shinsou is coming as well, but later > originally going to meet up w izuku for the first time (shitty foster parents) but wants to shield him from bakugo. Izuku just wants to sleep.

Golden band for the quirkless (ribbon?) “in our town we value good fashioned hard work so we like to give back to the quirkless, this little band lets everyone know the folks we should give a little more to”

Look around town, Izuku alone (shinsou there tomorrow >> all three staying at an inn)

Meet the family, bakugo pissed right off and they talk some smack about him while izuku flounders. “bet he’s got some flashy quirk, huh? Seems like the type. Makes me sick, thinkin they're better just cause they’re -”

Bakugo goes straight to his room to be a piss baby, izuku looks around. They are setting up for a festival. A group of kids teases another with a visible mutation, she cries, izuku tells the kids off and they scatter, she says some concerning stuff izuku is concerned. 

Izuku eats dinner w the family, they talk about how they think he’s gonna like it there, the little kid is cute.

Shinsou rolls into town, they go for a hike, its pretty chill - they have a picnic n shit they have dinner w the family 

Back to room (share one), izuku fiddling w the radio to find mic’s show, find the town’s own radio, they listen: something about  someone being brought into the fold, visitors in town to be treated kindly, a reminder of a church service that week “Hold fast to your faith, the world may slip a little further each day but we shall fight together to bring our faith outwards and bring purity back to the world” 

“Wow that was weird” “Wanna do some research?” “Fuck, sure.” 

They run into bakugo at breakfast, izuku mentions the show and bakugo kinda nods, “you heard it too?” “yeah. Fuckin weird” “We were gonna do some digging -” “Fuck off, I don’t need you two messing with my shit, I’ll look into myself.” “That was almost polite for Bakugo, huh?” 

Maybe timeskip to end of week? 

With the family, doing arts craft with the daughter. Shinso is sleeping off a migraine. They mention church vaguely in the background and Izuku tries to look like he's not listening in.

The daughter brings it up to izuku and the family chuckle and say he’s free to come if he wants but there is no need to rush him.

They eat lunch, the family kinda advertise the town to him, talk about the nice quirkless girl down the street his age, how rare it is for quirkless people to be born in this generation. Izuku vaguely thinks about how nice it would be to live there

Church that night, izuku looks in on shinsou to see he's still sleeping in the dark, goes to bakugo “look i know i’m sorry but they’re having church tonight and i know you were a little interested and i was gonna go anyway -” “I’m coming with because otherwise you’ll be useless.” They decide to sneak around to listen “I was kinda -” “yeah, sure” “wait but -” “oh fuck off, it rubbed me the wrong way too. The weirdos might talk different if they know we’re there.”

Bakugo throws a darker jacket at Izuku, he slips on a beanie and they head out into the woods, walking through to reach the back of the church. They wait 20 minutes after it was supposed to start and creep out, they listen in. 

“We will purge the impure our streets, we will stop this blight and, we will enact god's wrath and spare the pure, letting relieve the purity of the past. We will strike them down in his name, let them know we are his wolves let loose upon the blinded sheep.” 

Bakugo grabs izuku’s arm, they are both pale. They go to run, and a metal sheet falls down. The preacher goes quiet and someone a few people stand and the two of them book it as fast as they can.

They get back to the inn and have a minor freak out, they wake up shinso and they are like “oh shit, oh fuck.” they decide they need proof bc the pros will never listen to them, they become baby detectives 

Bakugo going off at izuku and having the shit scared out of him by a local, izuku steps in and the local backs down instantly, all smiles

One part of the story involves them running through the festival, changing clothes and masks as much as the can to escape the people chasing them.

The cult have a gas that is toxic to anyone with the quirk factor and intend to release it all across japan, starting with their own town. The climax of the story see’s Izuku going it alone through the facility, dead and dying bodies around him, looking out for any quirkless members that will stop him as he tries to find the locations of the canisters containing the gas. 

Aizawa and Nighteye are in the town as well, Bakugo and Shinsou run to them crying ab how Izuku is all alone and they think he’s going to die and oh god they can’t even help him - 

The dumb comedy throughline in this AU is Aizawa and Nighteye have to fake having crushes on each other to explain why they are hanging out so much in secluded areas. They both hate this very much. 

Izuku, who recognized the two heroes On Sight, is having a minor crisis about them both being here and apparently getting handsy behind a 7/11.

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 27: Untangling

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Relaxing(?) with Chen and taking some time for yourself... and things are uh... interesting, to say the least.

The choice is like 3-4 posts away- and I just wanted to give you a heads up that it won't be an overt "i choose so and so" choice. It will be a... seemingly monotonous choice that will lead you, dear reader, down a path to end up with one or the other! Do you guys want me to label which choice goes where? I mean it'll be obvious after the next parts are up which one is which SO I guess it doesn't matter?? Just figured I'd ask! Smooches.

Part 26 Part 28 Chapter Index

You left Kung Lao to rest and decided afterward to relax in the hot springs. Your body was sore, even more so after having gone toe to toe with a second monster. At least the second monster hadn’t tossed you around like a ragdoll the way the first one had. Still, you were sore. You made your way to the springs, rinsed off in the changing room, found a towel, and then walked inside. It was peaceful and there were only a handful of other people there.

You explored the pools a bit further back in hopes of finding some peace and quiet. Thankfully, your time in the springs in Huangshan hadn’t ruined this for you. They were so drastically different.

Peace and quiet were exactly what you’d been granted for a time.

Resting your head back against the natural stone formations, you let your sore body bask in the warmth of the water. It was enough to clear your thoughts of the word ‘monster’ being so frequent in your vocabulary and both the men that you’d left with fevers in their respective rooms.

It was no wonder that you drifted to sleep so quickly. Your sleep wasn’t restful though. You kept seeing flashes of the nightmare you’d had before you’d crawled into Liu’s bed that night. Then you saw the man with the horns, his white eyes staring into yours, and you felt the pain of his hand in your chest.

There was a splash next to you and you sat upright quickly, fists clenched at the ready for a fight. Chen was looking at you in surprise. You sighed with relief and relaxed. Chen and a few of the other women from the infirmary, as well as two of the cooks that you’d met a handful of times were getting into the water alongside you. You had tried to get to know the people you interacted with every day if not just a little bit. They worked hard and you wanted them to feel appreciated.

“It’s good to see you back, Y/N!” One of the younger girls chimed in and then went about chatting to the woman next to her animatedly. You greeted them politely and then rested your head back against the stone. Chen sat close to you. So much for peace. Even so, you smiled. Chen pestered you sure, but she was also a delight to talk to. Your smile faded quickly as you remembered the last conversation you had.

“How are you feeling?” Chen asked discreetly. You sat upright and covered your bruised neck as Chen made to poke at it. It was still sore. “I’m guessing that’s not from anything fun, huh?”

“Definitely not something fun.” You sunk down so that your neck was in the water, to hide, and Chen giggled. “I’m fine, by the way. Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well the past few nights.” You hadn’t, you supposed. There had been nightmares and then you and Kung Lao had gotten about four hours of sleep before you’d had to roll out of bed to go and meet Raiden. The women stared at you with rapt attention as if expecting an exciting reason for you to have not been sleeping.

“Because…?” Chen urged you onward hopefully and you splashed at them.

“I am so not in the mood, Chen.”

Chen and the other women laughed. “It’s all in good fun, Y/N. I know that things were crazy for you in Japan. I’ve heard you had quite the adventure.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! One of Raiden’s scribes overheard Kung Lao recounting your adventure with that tar thing.”

“Are you all gossips?”

“Look, it can be really boring here sometimes while those with the marks are off going on adventures and protecting the world. We’re here to protect you so I feel like in return we get to live vicariously through you. Is that so much to ask?” Chen had her chest puffed out proudly and you bowed your head and gestured toward her friends.

“My apologies, gossip away.”

“I was promised more information after you’d ditched Liu Kang. Define complicated please.”

The eyes of the other monks were on you, as curious but less forward than Chen. You bet it was so they could all update their little betting pool appropriately and you narrowed your eyes at them. “I will no gossip about myself. Especially not in front of everyone. No offense, guys.”

“Boo! You’re no fun, Y/N! There must be something steamy you’re not sharing with me. I swear that I interrupted something that morning with Liu Kang. I’ve thought about it on repeat since you left.” Chen poked your shoulder and the other women agreed with her, so you held your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment. Your skin was officially hotter than the spring water. They were whispering about what Chen had seen and it was much more dramatic than what had actually happened.

If they only knew that Chen hadn’t been completely wrong with her assumptions. Liu had asked you to stay in bed with him. Ugh, you wished that you had.

“Oh, stop picking on Y/N, guys. We have plenty to gossip about and she deserves to relax. She’s all bruised up, look at her.” One of the younger girls came to your defense and you were relieved.

They seemed eager to talk about whatever other gossip they’d picked up in the temple. You tuned most of it out as much as you could. You’d always struggled with gossip. Most of your life you’d been gossiped about, and it had never been in a good way. You didn’t like making other people feel like they were being talked about behind their back. You supposed it made you bottle everything inside which wasn’t exactly healthy either. No one was perfect. The kind of gossip that these monks were involved in didn’t bother you as much. It seemed harmless. No one’s feelings were getting hurt.

You listened to the hum of conversation. Apparently, one of the groups of monks who had gone into the closest town to pick up goods had gotten themselves into a bit of trouble with one of the women there. The story was ridiculous, and you wondered if this was how they talked about you when you weren’t around. It probably sounded just as absurd. It was funny. At least the gossip seemed distant from the truth. Unless this was the truth and, in that case, you felt terribly sorry for the woman and the monk who had gotten into trouble with her husband.

They were terrible monks.

The group drifted in the water until they were out of earshot, and you were grateful for the peace. You almost managed to fall asleep again but instead you felt Chen lifting your arm out of the water to check your pulse. You peeked one eye open and found Chen smiling at you.

“Still feeling okay? You’re pretty pale.”

“You can relax, Chen. You don’t always have to be on call. I’m fine. Really.”

“I work extra hard to make up for all the gossip.”

“I’m really okay. Just tired. I’m probably going to go back to my room and sleep soon. Less risk of drowning if I pass out there.” Only marginally less, you thought. You’d almost drowned yourself in ink the other night.

“Aww, not going to regale me with any stories of danger and romance?”

“I don’t know if I’m emotionally up to discussing the danger and romance, as you call it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s… a lot. It’s escalated in complication. I’m mixed up right now. I think my discussion needs to be more… mental.” You realized, suddenly, that Chen had weaseled you into talking about it.

“Oh? Going to make a decision soon?”

“You’re such a sneak. You know that, right?”

“Do go on.” Chen batted her eyelashes happily, resting her elbow against the stone.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s time to make a choice. I’ve got to… sort it out. I have to talk to them about it or just… make an honest move. It scared me for a while, but it needs to happen. No matter what happens next? I have to stop kissing both of them but there’s so much conflict in my heart…”

“Oh, hold on, excuse me? You’ve kissed them both? Y/N! You have been holding out on me!”

“Could you please lower your voice.” You sat up higher in alarm. “You’re completely missing the point that I was making.” You scooted further back from the other monks and Chen followed you. Your face was on fire again and the water was too hot.

“I need details immediately.” Chen’s eyes were filled with glee. “Which one of them kisses better? Are they good kisses? When did this happen? Has this happened more than once? Was there tongue? Did you do more than kissing?”

“Oh, for the love of all that you believe in, please stop!” You laughed and held your hands out in a panic to try and silence Chen. “I’m begging you to lower your voice.”

Chen cackled with laughter and pointed at your red face in amusement. You waited for Chen to get herself together. It took an awkwardly long amount of time. Chen cleared her throat and then straightened her posture as if she had to prepare herself to have a conversation. “Okay. Sorry. Yes, continue. That was delightful. What is it that has you so mixed up?” Besides the fact that they were both gorgeous? Besides the fact that their kisses and their touches literally took your breath away? That they both filled you with a deep and desperate longing that made you want to rip your insides out and offer them as sacrifice?

Liu Kang was the proverbial spark. You’d never once been drawn to another human being the way that you were drawn to him. It was like your bodies called to one another and as silly as you felt for thinking it, it was also true. Kung Lao, however, was your childhood love, but all grown up and while he was a complete mess, he was also romantic as hell. It wasn’t the same attraction you shared with Liu, but your attraction was different and just as wonderful.

“You’re just going to make fun of me.”

“You were quiet for a long time there. Getting lost in memories of kisses?”

“See?”

“Of course I’m going to make fun of you, Y/N, but I will also try to be a good friend.”

“You’re also going to just tell everyone else about it.”

“…true.”

“Ugh.”

“You could still tell me. I promise I’ll twist it enough that no one will quite believe me.”

“I’m… I just…” You sighed in frustration, mussed your hair, and then decided to just go for it. It would make Chen happy to get something of substance from you and maybe putting it out into the universe would offer you some reflection. Chen was hanging on your every word. “I have this crazy attraction to Liu. Plus, he’s so sweet and funny and smart. He holds me in such reverence and it’s going to sound so crazy cheesy but he’s made of fire in just about every way and… ugh he calls me beautiful and…” You whined and leaned your head back against the stone and felt your insides tighten up just at the thought. This hadn’t helped.

Chen was fanning herself.

“Hard to beat that. When was this steamy, fiery kiss…?”

“You are fishing for more information than I’m willing to give you.”

“You can’t blame me for trying. So, what’s the hang up with Lao then? I’ve seen you with Liu. You two are natural together.”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. I… ugh, I am bad at this. I hate this, Chen. I hate talking about it.”

“I know. It’s the worst. I wish you were drunk. You’d go on about it.”

“I kind of wish I was drunk too.”

“Raiden said no liquor for now.” Chen was disappointed. “Focus. Lao. Tell me.”

“We… it’s complicated, okay? We butt heads but he’s so damn nostalgic and surprisingly sweet when he’s not… trying to be. It’s hard to explain why I’m hung up on it because it’s… emotional? When he kissed me? The world disappeared. It makes me think that maybe if we hadn’t lost touch, if he hadn’t disappeared, then we probably would have been together from the beginning. It’s not any less magnetic, just different. Lao and I are very alike. Liu balances me out.” You sighed and briefly forgot that you were talking to the biggest gossip that you had ever met. “I care deeply for them both. I don’t want to hurt either of them, but I can’t take the emotional turmoil of bouncing back and forth between them anymore. And it’s not fair to any of us.”

“Wow, this is actually eating you up inside. I thought you were just being ridiculous to avoid telling me dirty details.” Chen seemed impressed and you turned your attention to her in surprise. Of course, it was eating you up inside! How could it not? “You’re really not going to just get them super drunk and then get spit roasted by both and have a wild night none of you will remember?”

You choked on your own spit and then coughed, leaning out of the water and onto the stone to escape the heat of the springs. Chen patted you on the back but laughed. “I have to look at and talk to them every day, Chen!”

“Have fun picturing that for the rest of your life.”

“Oh, I hate you right now.” You laughed, but the mental image was there, and Chen was right. It would live in your brain rent free for the rest of your life.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. Just follow your heart and please get laid. Then get drunk and give me all those dirty details.”

“I’m so glad that I’m asking you for advice.” You managed to clear your windpipe, finally. “That was sarcasm. Sorry, choked up.” You shook the mental image away again. Your morning with Liu Kang hadn’t helped that mental image at all. “I’ll figure it out. I’m at a point where I’m ready to figure it out. But I think you’ve teased me enough. I’m going upstairs to get some rest because I am hotter than the springs now.”

“Good. Rest. You’re still pale when you’re not as red as I made you.”

“I plan too.”

“I hope you run into one of them and you can’t shake the mental image!” Chen called to you as you started out of the water, and you nearly slipped and fell back in.

“Goodbye, Chen.” You waved back to her and then bowed to the other monks before returning to the changing room, getting back into your clothes, and heading back to your room. Thankfully, you didn’t run into Liu Kang or Kung Lao. You hoped that they were still resting.

You threw yourself into bed and laid face down for a while, contemplating your options. It was kind of nice to think of how it might wind up. What were you complaining about? There were two incredibly attractive men chasing after your heart. Even so, it filled your stomach with anxiety and dread. You didn’t want to hurt either of them. You wished there were a reality where you could have them both but knew that would end messy too.

After changing into a nightshirt, you went to bed. You really were exhausted but your sleep wasn’t restful. You tossed and turned throughout the night, plagued with nightmares. When you opened your eyes, there was a silhouette of a horned man standing at the side of your bed. You struggled to move, to blink, but you were paralyzed by fear. Breathing was difficult and he leaned over you and reached for your throat. His face was shadow with the exception of a wicked white smile. You felt like he held you down, pinned to your bed, pushing you further into it.

Your body ached.

You were seeing spots, unable to breathe. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t fight it. It was like sleep paralysis. You’d read about it, but it also felt real. He was closer to you, inches from your face, and his clawed hand rested over your cheek.

Then suddenly you were free of the grip that held you prisoner, that had trapped you in bed. You were alone and gasped for struggled breaths. Panicked, you crawled out of bed, collapsing onto the floor and bursting into sobs. Ink spilled from your hands, staining the floor. You struggled to stop shaking and push yourself up, catching your breath.

Then you froze in horror.

Strands of ink were spread across your room from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, creating an elaborate and dangerous web.

What the actual hell?

What had you done?

How had you done it?

Reaching out with a shaky hand, you brushed your fingers over the thick web of ink and pulled your hand back immediately. It had been solid and sharp, slicing the tip of your finger.

You trembled with fear and leaned as far against the bed as you could press your body. You tried to get up, to will yourself to move, but instead it felt like your lungs were being squeezed by invisible hands. Your fingers were curling up and you pulled them close to your chest. Closing your eyes, you tried to take deep breaths to calm down but you could barely exhale.

You’d filled your room with ink in your sleep.

That had to have been a vision, but it hadn’t been the future or the past. It had been of that thing in your room with you, hovering over you. What, was this some Catholic-style possession? Maybe finding the artifacts had been a mistake.

You laid on the floor, stretching out into child’s pose to try and help yourself calm down, to breathe. This moment mattered. Not the nightmare. Not the vision. Not the fear.

Just the moment.

You would be okay.

After an agonizingly long time, you felt your heart finally slowing down. Your fingers uncurled and you were able to sit upright. Your head was spinning but you could at least think without the screaming adrenaline of panic.

You couldn’t get out of your room with the ink like this.

The strands were too closely knit together. Pushing your hair back, still shaking, you held it away from your face and tried to think. You’d trapped yourself in the room. But you’d made the ink so maybe you could unmake it too. Holding your palm close to the nearest strand of ink, you closed your eyes and focused. It wouldn’t move and your whole body was shaking.

Your brain was buzzing with panic still. You tried again and were thrown back against the bed, but the ink was gone in a blink. Your hands were aching like you’d been punched right in the palms. They were dark and bruised. But you’d done it. The ink was gone.

Wrapping your arms around your knees, you pressed yourself against the bed.

You had to get a hold of yourself.

What the fuck had just happened?

There was a knock at your door, and you whined, buried your face against your knees, and then took a deep breath. You felt like you could vomit but you managed to get yourself up, vomit free, and made your way to the door. Shaky on your feet, you recognized the monk on the other side. He kept guard outside of Raiden’s chambers. He bowed to you politely as the monks often did.

“Lord Raiden requests your presence.”

“I-I’ll be there in a few… few minutes. I just… I need to get dressed.” You tried not to sound like you had been hysterically sobbing only a few minutes ago. The monk didn’t seem to notice. He bowed and walked away to deliver your message. You leaned against the door after he’d left, taking shaky breaths. You had to calm down.

Liu Kang would have had you meditate so you decided to do just that. You sat on your prayer mat and closed your eyes. Deep breaths. Grounding exercises. You could hear his comforting voice in your head, guiding you along.

In truth, you just wanted to be held.

[dapandapod]

Child of surprise

So my darling gremling @geogrewife were supposed to help me pick a Wip to work on but made me write this instead. Please enjoy!  On Ao3 here

Warning: fluff. so much fluff. Like, fluffy fluff.

“Somethings wrong with Roach.” Geralt frowns at Jaskiers words. They have been staying in a cottage all winter, deep in the forest away from prying eyes. They found it when the first hint of gold appeared in the trees, and they decided that this is a good a place as any. It has been restful. No big bad monsters around, just the normal inhabitants. Roach has been away a lot, roaming the forest but always returning unharmed at nightfall. The cottage didn’t have a stable so they simply made a new door to the cottage, making a pen out of one of the corners. Geralt can be a handyman when it comes to the comforts of Roach and Jaskier relentlessly teases him about it. This is one of those nights they spend in peace, wind whistling among the trees and hard rain falling on the roof. “No?” Geralt protests, because he can see nothing wrong with her? And he is clearly the superior horseman out of the two. “Uh, yes? Geralt, I know I know very little of horses but something is clearly different? Can’t you tell?”

Geralt puts down his gwent cards and gets up from the wooden chair he sat on. Roach is ignoring him, munching on her hay in her corner, resting one hind leg as she does when she is relaxed. He walks up to her, hand on his chin and eyes squinting. He looks her over but sees nothing obvious, so he focuses, letting all other sounds fade away. Geralt rarely uses his witcher senses on her, but she smells like usual? He senses no wounds, no pain, nothing sticking out. Her fur is all shaggy now in wintertime, but that’s about it. “I can’t see anything.” Geralt mutters, returning to the table. “Did you look at my cards?” Jaskier scoffs. “I don’t need to look at your cards to win. Just. Let’s keep an eye on her?”

Time passes slowly. Winter is dark, and every day Roach wanders the woods. Geralt is out hunting for dinner but stumbles on her tracks among the trees. He is very far away, he wasn’t aware Roach made such long trips. He suspects Jaskier might be right. Something is off with Roach. She is getting slower, sometimes in the mornings her legs get a little swollen. Geralt massages her and tries to keep her warm and well fed but he will not be in the way when she wants out. But it’s probably time to see what she is up to. It seems like this stretch is well walked, many hoofprints covering the ground in both directions. Geralt follows her tracks and stops mid step when he notices where they lead. Up ahead is a clearing, a frozen creak glistening in the sunlight, snow heavy on the branches. It looks magical. On the other side of the clearing stands Roach. Only, she is not alone. Next to her stands a white horse. So white it almost can’t be seen against the snow. It has long white mane with grey streaks and the body is powerful. And it’s a unicorn. The horn is long, sharp. Dangerous. The unicorn could easily kill Roach with it. But it doesn’t. They are standing peacefully next to each other, her dark fuzzy fur a stark contrast. They use their muzzles to push away the snow to get to the grass underneath. Geralt barely dares to move, barely dares to breathe. As far as he knew there were no unicorns left. Obviously he was wrong, and it has taken a liking to his Roach. Geralt tries to back away quietly, stepping into his own footsteps, so that he doesn’t startle them. But the unicorn must sense him, his head shoots up and then runs away. Roach startles and looks around, but when she sees Geralt she relaxes. Well. “Hi girl.” He greets her. “Uh… sorry. I didn’t mean to startle your... friend?” Oh. Ooooh. That’s why she’s been away so much. That’s why there was more than one set of hoofprints. Probably. He wonders how long they have met out here in the woods, and he feels oddly protective of her. Roach makes no effort to walk up to him so he leaves her there in the clearing.

When he returns to Jaskier some time later, two winterbirds under his arm, he realizes Jaskier was right. He kicks his boots on the doorframe on the way in, ridding himself of most of the snow. “You were right.” He calls as a greeting, and Jaskier hits a sour note on his lute. “‘Scuse me?!” Jaskiers eyes are huge, startled. “Did you hit your head while hunting?!” Geralt chuckles and hangs up his outer clothes. “You were right about Roach. There is something up with her.” “OH! Yes, I told you so! You know what it is?” Geralt settles down to pluck the birds. “Yeah. She has met someone.” Jaskier picks up his playing again, plucking on the strings in a soft melody. “Oh really? Are there more horses in the woods? Or a nymph perhaps?” “Unicorn actually.” Again, Jaskier makes a sour note on the lute and Geralt cringes at the sound. “Sorry, but. Did you just say you saw a fucking unicorn?!?” Jaskier gapes, not believing a word he hears. “Yeah. It got scared of me though and ran away.” “THIS IS WHY I NEED TO COME WITH YOU GERALT!!!” Jaskier abruptly stands up from his chair, dragging a hand through his hair. “I MISSED A UNICORN!” Geralt smiles again, fingers still working on their upcoming dinner. “You will never let me out of your sight again, are you?” Geralt says fondly and Jaskier huffs. “You are absolutely right!” He plops back in the chair again but lets his lute hang from his hand and rests on the floor. “I can’t believe this.” “Don’t pout. I’ll bring you with me in a few days.”

And so he does. They let Roach get a headstart of a few hours, but it takes two months before they see it again. By then Roach has eaten through a third of their collected hay for the winter. Her legs are still swollen and her back seems to sink a little. Geralt is starting to suspect he knows what is wrong with her.

They follow her to the clearing, this time walking with her instead of sneaking behind. They see her go about her usual routine, scraping a hole in the stream to drink and them starting to push the snow around. It takes almost an hour before she raises her head and she whinnies towards the woods. There is a deep rumbling neigh in return. And there he is. He trots up to her, his neck curved and tail raised.

Because it is a he, Geralt realizes. A stallion. And there is nothing wrong with Roach. She is with foal.

Beside him Jaskier draws in a breath, mouth open with awe. It’s like a picture from a fairytale, the snow glistening, the world holding its breath. The unicorn nuzzles her thick fur, and they start scratching each other's backs. Next to him Geralt can hear Jaskier sniffle, and he is not far away from breaking a tear himself. The unicorn sees them, ignoring Roach buffing his side to continue, and stares. Geralt really, really hopes he won't attack. He is not sure he would be able to flee it, and that would mean fighting it. Luckily it seems to decide they are no threat and turns away. The two horses go back to inspecting the other and then walk off into the woods without a backwards glance. Jaskier and Geralt stay in the clearing for a while longer, breaths as clouds in front of them.

“Wow.” Jaskier finally manages, wiping at his eyes with his ungloved hands. “Too bad I can never sing about this.” he smiles, blinking up at the afternoon skies. Geralt sees the reasoning in that too. The moment rumors of a unicorn comes out there will be people hunting it. He takes Jaskiers freezing hands in his and leads them back towards the cottage.

When the first spring flowers peak through the snow Roach is heavy. It’s clear they won’t be going anywhere for a while. So they prepare to stay for even longer. Geralt leaves for two weeks, trekking towards the closest village. They need more supplies and food, and getting there by foot and back is going to take some time. To Jaskiers surprise (and Geralt's despair) he returns through a portal, Yennefer close behind. She stays for a few weeks, cooing at Roach like she never had before, lovingly petting her down and spoiling her absolutely rotten.

She comes back in the middle of summer. Because it’s time. During the night Roach is restless. She walks around outside the cottage, snorting and panting. Geralt, always the light sleeper wakes up and goes out to her. There is no need for her to sleep indoors during this time of year, and she leads him towards her clearing. It takes another hour for her to lay down, and by then both Jaskier and Yen found him by her side. Roaches sides are slick with sweat, and the small hoofs sticking out from her are just as brown as she is. Geralt wasn’t sure what to expect of this foal, if it would be white or brown. But it would seem that it’s brown. When the first early rays of sunshine filter through the leaves the foal, a little stallion, takes its first steps. His eyes are pale blue, his body a dark brown like his mother, and his mane a shade paler. There is no sign of a horn and Geralt can’t decide if he is relieved or disappointed.

They stay for some time longer, making sure Roach is alright before retreating back a bit. By now they have learned the unicorns habits a little better. Geralt and Jaskier double back to the cottage to bring some breakfast back. Jaskier squeeze his hand all the way there, and when they get inside the door Jaskier pulls Geralt close. He smiles at Geralt, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Why do I feel like a proud parent?” He asks and Geralt chuckles. He couldn’t agree more.

Jaskier decides to name the foal Pegasus. The little thing is feisty, he nips after them even though he doesn’t have any teeth yet. He kicks and he bucks and he flies over the grass. His father didn’t come on the first day, nor the second. But when he comes there is a full show of sniffing and buffing. When Roach thinks he is too rough on Pegasus she steps between them, ears slicked back and teeth on display. She turns around and half heartedly kicks at the unicorn and Geralt swells with pride. When they calm down Pegasus tries to imitate his parents, doing his best with his short neck to bend down towards the grass. He can’t quite reach and stumbles. “I can stay here for hours.” Yen says softly, a soft smile on her lips. Geralt knows how she feels.

And they do. They stay for hours and hours to watch Pegasus and Roach, sometimes around the cottage and sometimes in the clearing. Still no horn in sight, just a small bump in the middle of his forehead. Pegasus seems to have taken a great liking to Jaskier. Whenever the bard sits in the grass, leaning back on the wooden wall with his lute, Pegasus scampers over to inspect. He pulls at his clothes, steals his expensive hat and tries to nibble at the lute.

They talk about what they should do. Yennefer comes and goes, unable to stay away from the little menace of a foal. She claims she wish to study him, if he got any magical abilities, but they all know better.

Perhaps they will make their way towards Kaer Morhen. The area isn’t perhaps the safest for a horse, but at least there won’t be any prying eyes in case Pegasus actually shows any abilities. Jaskier speaks of the coast again, and about Lettenhove. Traveling with a foal however is not the safest nor the most practical thing. But the summer is still young.

They have time.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just A Dream Away

Chapter 5/13 read here on ao3!

for @harringrovebigbang

~~~~

Robin gets to the phone first.

Steve was too busy wallowing in his bed to get up and answer, though he figures it might be worth seeing who it is that’s calling. None of the kids call him anymore, but he always considers, even if it’s for just a moment, that it could be an emergency. He’ll know whenever he decides to get up, or if Robin even decides to pick it up.

Its ring echoes shrill and loud in the apartment, the tone making him want to wrap himself in a blanket and never come out, so he slides out of his bed, calling down the stairs in search of a solution to end the noise, “You gonna get that Rob?”

For a moment, he wonders if she’ll even respond. It’s barely been a couple of hours since he made her cry, but she calls back, “Are you expecting a call?”

Relieved to know she at least still tolerates him, Steve answers, “Nope.”

“Then no.” Comes her simple response, and the phone ringing promptly dies out, “Guess it didn’t matter anyways.”

But almost immediately, it starts up again, somehow sounding more sharp than before. Steve tells her just to get it so the ringing will stop, coming down the steps to see for himself who it is calling.

He watches Robin pull the receiver from its base, in the place of a greeting going straight for, “What do you want?”

Steve takes note of the fact that her mood isn’t entirely better yet, though he’s definitely glad she’s taking those feelings out on the telephone and not on him, but, despite her abrasiveness, she still receives no response.

It looks like she’s going to hang up before she hears something, her features closing off as she focuses on whatever comes through the other end, “Hello? I can’t hear you. Who is this?”

There’s a whining static loud enough for even Steve to hear from the other side of the room, getting louder, and then a pop that makes the lights flicker and the phone die out, making Robin shriek and drop it, shaking out her hand.

“Son of a bitch shocked me.” She mumbles, picking up the dead receiver and showing Steve the two burnt ends.

In the moment though, something he’ll perhaps feel bad for another time, Steve isn’t worried about his friend. He isn’t rushing to see what happened and check if she got burnt, he instead just freezes up, filtering through the overwhelming questions filling his head to ask, “Did you hear who it was?”

“No, it just sounded like it was all distorted.”

Her answer is nonchalant, but it makes Steve feel weak and panicky, sitting down at the table as pale as a ghost.

That’s obviously not a normal reaction, and Robin asks, tone more afraid than concerned, which he thinks that’s appropriate for what just happened, “What’s going on Steve?”

Grimly, he explains, “Mrs Byers’ phone did that twice before, blowing up after a call just like that.”

“Okay, well maybe there’s just a storm coming and it’s just a coincidence that happened to her too?” She tries to reason, but Steve already knows, he's felt this dread before. “No, Robs. It happened because Will called her from the Upside Down.”

“But then that means-“ Robin starts, working through the implications, Steve finishing the statement for her, “Someone is trapped over there.”

“Holy shit, but the gate, hasn’t it been closed for a year and a half now?“

“Unless someone else opened it, yeah.”

Stiffly she nods, asking hesitantly, be it because of her questions or the disagreement between them earlier, ���Well what do we do?”

A reflection of his lack for anything but pessimistic doomsdaying anymore, Steve worries, “What can we do, Robin? I’ve only ever fought the things that end up in our world, and you’ve never even seen half of the monsters that come from over there. We’re too overpowered here.”

More rational than her friend, Robin suggests, “I think we should get a hold of Eleven. You said she's the one that really understands any of this other dimension stuff. She can help.”

But Steve shakes his head, “Her powers are gone. She might know what to do, but I don’t think she’ll be able to do anything.”

“So you just want to leave whoever it is over there?”

“No, fuck no. That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what should we do?”

“I don’t know..” Steve frowns, thinking hard before he answers determinedly, “But whoever it is, they reached out to us. We have to help them.”

~~~~

The phone doesn’t work.

What is Billy supposed to do? He’s tried everything, and with his last resort at reaching out a dud, he’s not sure what else he even can do.

So, in true Billy Hargrove fashion, he lashes out, cursing and unnecessarily yanking the phone jack out of the wall, the plastic handheld skidding across the kitchen tile into the corner, “Goddamnit!”

The noise may have been a mistake though, because, despite how sure he was the dogs wouldn’t find this place, he hears a chitter, and the click of claws on hardwood floors. The damn thing is in the house, and his machete is by the door.

A recurring theme with these hell beasts, is that there’s never enough time to run, but unless he wants to use decorative mugs or a cookie jar to fight it, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to try.

He makes two mistakes as he runs, the first being that he hesitates, not wanting to leave Steve. Even if he couldn’t find him he had gotten so damn close, but a snarl from the dog puts things into perspective, and, with a heavy feeling of remorse in his chest, he leaves through the backdoor as quietly as he can, bolting down the rotting back steps.

His second mistake is looking over his shoulder. Just as his boots touch brittle grass, he decides just to glance back and see how much space is between him and the hellhound, but the second he sees it, he just freezes up.

Because it’s fucking big, for one thing. It has to force itself through the door frame, meaning it’s wider than he is. It has a lot more teeth than the others. It’s skin is pale and it’s limbs much longer. Something tells him the others he’s seen are immature, and this one is close to its final form, whatever that may be. Either way, he’s decidedly not fucking around with that.

The daunting unfamiliarity of this part of Hawkins, intimidating as it is, isn’t Billy’s main concern right now. He just bolts like a coward, hoping against hope that there’ll be anything along his path he won’t have to corner himself to get that can be used as a weapon, basically his only other option for surviving this that this amped up dog will get bored of him fast.

But, and really, he knew this was the case, he just hadn’t wanted to admit he was prey yet, it easily charges him, going up on its back legs to knock him off his balance. It misses at first, so he thankfully doesn’t get pushed to the ground, but his reflexes, especially when blurred by emotion, are no match to a monster of this size, and before he can even process its next move, it clamps its teeth on his arm.

Now, he’s been here for a while. He’s had scratches and cuts and welts from their tails, but he’d always been quick enough, smart enough, prepared enough to not get bit. Which he really wishes was still something he could still attest to, because it fucking hurts. Razor sharp teeth from too many mouths tear into the muscle, a stinging pain all the way from the point of impact in his wrist up to his shoulder.

It’s his fault, all this stuff with Steve was getting to his head, feeling his presence and hearing his voice again for the first time in god knows how long only to be unable to reach him. It was doing things to his judgement.

But this is still bad. Really fucking bad.

As soon as it lets go, he knows it’s going to latch onto him again, so he does what he does best in a situation where he’s hurt and scared and alone. He cries, for one thing, but he also fights. But where he’d normally just use his fists and his ego to prove his strength, this world is built differently. Even with a pocket knife to stand up for himself that’s not enough to survive, but he’s still going to make it count. If at the end of this he goes down, it won’t be without a fight.

A fight to just get back to the way things were. To prove to himself he could do this and survive. For once in his fucking life, just to overcome hardship and move the hell forward, no cycles of hatred and pain, love and respect drawing him back. Nobody else in control of his body. Nobody else holding him back from being happy.

He just wants to survive this.

There’s blood on his jacket sleeve, but Billy refuses to look at how bad the wound truly is yet. There quite frankly isn’t enough oxygen down here to afford a panic, but from the pain and the blood alone, he knows it’s not going to be good for him.

The fighting isn’t going too well either, with only one arm not weighed down by injury and a knife the size of his palm his last standing lines of defense, it’s mostly him dodging the creature and flailing his limbs to either stop an incoming bite or confuse it, both of them too confident in its ability to tear him to shreds to advance further than that.

But it gets bored of fucking around with him, and it rises to its back legs again, and Billy knows he’s fucked, squeezing his eyes shut and blocking his face, but the attack never comes. There’s a huge crack of lightning in the ever looming storm above, and a chorus of eerie chittering from more dogs at varying degrees of closeness to where they are, and it draws the attention of the big one away.

While the monster is distracted, he uses that opportunity to his advantage, takes charge of his circumstances to give himself a fighting chance. That strategy never worked for him before, only ever got him into deeper shit, but he can’t exactly just stand here and be monster bait either so, though it breaks his heart to put that distance between him and Steve, Billy chooses to run.

[sideblogformindtrash]

CW: Deshumanization; pet/slave whump; conditioning; bruising; some self-hatred; swearing; the inevitability of our death :’)

Prev it was supposed to just be a fun lil thing but I ruined it with deep rooted insecurities about life the universe and everything else and monologues

He could have kicked that door down easily. But he wanted Haru to learn. He sat crossed legged on the floor, watching him try to open the door. The house loomed over them, casting a shadow. Orfeu couldn’t help but feel it would look good if it was on fire… At least right now, with the pretty oranges and reds of the twilight.

Haru, however, was nervous. He kept glancing at him all the time, as if trying to see if he was doing something wrong. It must have felt like a very unnatural thing for him, to try and pick a lock. It would be something worthy of punishment on the past, he figured. And now, against all odds, it was his ‘Master’ that was coaching him to do it.  

It had been months now. Yet he kept waiting for it. For a blow that would never come. At least… At least not from him. He absently mindedly touched the bruise on his eye, pressing… Making it hurt. Life is a bitch. Life is a fucking bitch.

Your fault, your fault, your fault – the darkness echoes, from the woods around them. He ignores. He doesn’t want to deal with their shit right now.

At this moment, the important thing is teaching Haru and making sure he doesn’t panic. Calm, but firm voice. Reassuring words. He is getting better at it… But not much. He still sucks at dealing with people.

 Click. Then a small gasp from Haru. He looks back at Orfeu, not wanting to move his shaky hands.

  “Yes, that’s it, don’t need to be scared. This is good. You found the little lever. Turn the other one a bit… Yeah, like this. Now see if you can find another one, a bit further down the lock.”

Because one day he might just need this… Orfeu wanted to be there for him. For the first time in his life, he felt… Like he had someone. A someone who was warming up to him a little bit every day. And yeah, Haru was scared of him too, sure, but not because he was a monster. Haru wasn’t scared because he saw him as a fucking freak… He was scared because he had been hurt in the past, and living in fear was all he ever knew. It was only natural.

So… Orfeu was willingly to do anything to keep him safe. And for as long as he was around he would make sure nothing could happen to the boy. Except… What if he wasn’t around anymore? What would happen to him? He pulled the bruised skin around his eye, pinching and twisting it between his fingernails.

  Life is fragile.

 Fragile, fragile, fragile – echoes the darkness yet again.

If things were good, he would always be there to offer safety for Haru. If they weren’t… Haru would be able to unlock some of the doors they would put to stop him. And it would hopefully be enough of them for him to escape. There was still anger on Haru. He was still willing to fight against all that bullshit he had been forced to take. And Orfeu wanted to see that spark turn into a fire.

 Click.

 One more anxious glance.

 “You are doing very good, Haru. Now, you just need to feel one more of these little levers and turn the other one around and…”

…The door opened.

He smiled.

“Good. Very good.” He got up to his feet and messed with the boy’s hair. He smiled back, shy and a bit relieved. Orfeu knew that must have been one scary, stressful task for him. It wasn’t exactly easy. He entered the house first, and let the cobwebs stick to his face and hair “Watch where you step okay? It’s quite an old place.”

Old, and dusty and empty. Just the entrance hallway was bigger than his entire home, it seemed. There were no ghosts that he could see. That was disappointing, he had been promised ghosts. Although Haru did kind of look like one, pale, white curls of hair falling past his waist, dressed on clothes far too big for his thin form. If he were to walk on the side of a road at night, it would give some poor driver’s a heart attack.

The boy walked slowly, very carefully, a bit mesmerized by the view. Had he ever seen a place like this? Had he ever known anything other than far too pristine houses and white-tiled rooms?

Probably not. Orfeu had it bad. He had it bad since the beginning of his life. And even then, he knew it was nothing compared to what Haru had gone through. Him and all the others like him… To a point where they refused to believe they were just as human as their ‘Masters’. To a point where the first time Haru stepped on grass… He cried, because he had never really been allowed outside.

…To a point where he looked like part of an old, decrepit house. He was a ghost, on the center of the empty hall, too oppressed by the weight of that ambiance to look up from his feet. And yet… There was fight on him.

“It’s okay. You can look around, okay? Nothing bad will happen” Slowly, the boy lifts his head again. And he fights to breathe. “I know it doesn’t look like a friendly place… But it’s not bad either. It has just been here for far too long.”

He opens his mouth. Tries to speak. No sound. Not even a whimper. But he is trying and that is good.

Scribbled notes on the pink notebook.

‘Is this house yours master?’

He smiles again, laughing a bit.

“No. Not really.”

‘Who does it belong to? Why is it *unreadable* Like this?’

“No one. It was ab-“ He shut his stupid mouth. Abandoned. That was a trigger word. He had learned that one already “It doesn’t belong to anyone.”

He looks and mouths… ‘Why’.

“It has survived longer than any of them, I guess.” And yet not a single ghost.

He nods, and let’s himself explore a little bit, touching the old furniture carefully, as if at any point something would jump from the shadows and attack him. Orfeu walks towards the curtains. The. Longest. Fucking. Curtains. He has ever seen. He yanks one out of the windowsill, throws it around his body like a dress.

One, two, three steps of some waltz he doesn’t really know how to dance, hands holding an imaginary partner. Haru stares at him with curiosity.

“You know that scene from Beauty and the Beast?” He looks confused. He doesn’t know because why would he? Happiness is not allowed on the world he came from “We could re-enact that. Pretty sure you are the Beauty part of the deal… And I’m not really the Beast, I hope. Probably just the talking chandelier. Or the curtain-boy, that works too.”

He stops his silly little dance. Haru is smiling at him. But now, now he sees the ghost. Two of them, an old man and a Labrador, on the hallway upstairs. He walked after them, forgetting his own advice of watching his steps.

Haru followed him, much more carefully. The smell of tobacco hit him in once he was upstairs, from the pipe of the old man. Haru watched him carefully… He couldn’t really see the ghosts, could he? So in his eye it was just his Master acting like a lunatic yet again. Oh well.

Freak. Freak. Freak. – The darkness taunt. The ghost of the dog barks, and the darkness shuts the fuck up. For once. The old man lets out a trail of smoke. He talks to an invisible someone, inside one of the bedrooms. A memory. Pets the ears of the Labrador.

He is about to speak with them but…

“M-Ma” Haru chokes. His breathing is now audible. His eyes are closed, as if just making those sounds is a huge effort. He is holding a little paper… So Orfeu must have been focusing on the ghost for longer than he thought. Enough to maybe ignore Haru for a bit. “Mas.. Ma..T..” It’s okay. He smiles, patiently. Let him speak. This is good. Is good that he is trying right? It’s good “Mas..T…Te…r”.

He gasps as he finishes, a long sigh and his eyes are open again. An immense effort… and hell, Orfeu is proud of him. He pets the boy’s head once again, before accepting the note he is being offered.

‘Do Hous…

May

Can I ;  Can your pet make a question?’

 Orfeu nods. Something hard is coming now… Or he wouldn’t bother asking if he was allowed to ask.

 “Always. Is good that you are asking questions, okay?”

Blue eyes look at him, sad, not really believing. Alright. Scribble, scribble, scribble.

 ‘Will the house of Haru’s   this slave’s *unreadable* previous owners *unreadable* be like this someday?’

 “Yeah. It will.”

He nods…. His anxiety seems to be pilling up. Scribbles.

‘This place had a Master? Did they have pets like me?

“I’m not sure. They had dogs, the… Hm, canine type?” Which reminds him… The ghosts are gone. Lost interest, probably. More scribbling sounds… and Haru looks distressed.

‘Master’s homes can’t *unredable* like this, they are perfect, clean, and *unreadable* pet’s job to keep organized and good and *unreadable* houses are bad without owners and pets are useless *scribbles* need be good *unreadable* I’m use pet is useless”

He is too distressed to finish this one. He is about to yank the page off and start again, but Orfeu stops him, gently touching his hand.

“Do you want to hear a secret?” Haru stops… Breaths in. Open his mouth, closes it again. He nods, eyes widen with fear and expectancy “…Time goes on, no matter who you are. To Master’s and their ‘pets’… To animals and trees. Even houses like this one and like the one you lived before and the one we live in together. Eventually… Everything succumbs to time. And on the end… We are all the same.”

 …Haru lowers his head, wanting to hide the frown. A storm behind his icy-blue eyes. Did that scare him more? He hoped not. It was something that he found to be weirdly comforting, even if pessimistic. And… And it was true. He pulled Haru’s chin up. He shivered a bit when they made eye contact.

 “We are here now. We are alive. And you know what? It kind of sucks. But it can be nice, too. You don’t need anyone’s permission to be alive. You don’t need to be owned. You are not useless. Hell, you don’t need to be useful because you are not a thing. You don’t exist for that… I don’t know why you exist but then again, I don’t know why I exist either. We are just stuck on this together, and one day, we will be gone. But then again, everything will.” Pulls a lock of white hair from his face. Sad blue eyes, lost in thought. “Look… I’m happy we can spend time together. And I hate that so much of your time was taken from you.  So… If you want to, we could go and get ice cream. It’s cold and sweet and honestly, I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Leave this place to its ghosts.

Scribbles.

‘Ice cream sounds nice’

[heyheydidjaknow]

It is 6 am. I know that it reads like I’ve never heard of pacing. Trust me, I’m aware. Quite frankly, I am entirely too tired to care. It might not even be as bad as I think it is. It’s possible, I guess, but not likely, I don’t think. I don’t have proofreaders, and it’s probably too edgy or too soon for more edge but you’re along for my ride and I’m sorry. I’ll probably rewrite it at some point, but right now I’m happy I’m even awake right now to post it. My eyes hurt and I'm a little queasy but we are powering through. Having said that, let's torture some fucking teenagers.

Chapter 12

Donatello stares at the small knife intensely.

It is an incredibly boring-looking one. Knowing as little as he does about culinary arts, he does not know the exact use of it, its size and shape giving him very little insight into its use in that environment. He is willing to make an educated guess and assume the blade itself is made of carbon steel, which is not exactly a strange choice for a knife in his opinion. It is not a combat or survival knife. It is hardly sturdy enough to last long in a combat setting. He is tempted to call Mikey to ask him to identify it for a second but thinks better of it.

After all, it fell out of your pocket. Questions would be asked.

He picks it up off the floor, weighing it in his hand. ‘This is a kitchen knife, right?’ He picks your jacket off the floor, folding it neatly and placing it on the back of a chair. ‘Why would she carry around a kitchen knife?’ He rests his head on his arms, holding the offending tool in front of his eyes, continuing to analyze it. ‘To fight? She knows carrying around a knife like this with no combat experience is a bad idea, right? Don’t people usually use pepper spray or something when they want to defend themselves?’

An image flashes into his head. You, standing alone in an alley, pointing this poor excuse of a weapon at a member of The Foot or the Purple Dragon. You, falling back and hitting your head and bleeding out with a knife sticking in your side because you fell on it wrong—‘It’s not even in a sheathe’—and trying to crawl back out into the street, begging to god not to—

He blinks, noticing his knuckles going pale around the handle, mouth weirdly dry.

He swallows. He forces his grip to loosen. ‘That’s dramatic.’ He gets up, slipping the knife back into the pocket of your jacket, hoping he put it in the right one. ‘She’s fine. She’s probably just scared after everything that’s happened. It won’t come to that.’

He sets back down, picking the last gas mask up and turning it over in his hands to give him something to do. He will not have time to properly test whether it works exactly as planned, but he is fairly certain that it and its brothers should allow them to breathe with little difficulty when they need to go into the TCRI building through the elevator shaft. If that is the plan they go with, anyways-- he had elected to stay out of the planning party, seeing as creating explosives strong enough to destroy the portal is enough of a challenge on its own, and he has faith in you and his eldest brother to come up with a good course of action. You guys always did. Bradford was dead after all, a fact that he had been informed made their lives considerably easier. In your words, “Mousers are the fucking worst, and if Bradford had gone off and recruited Stockman, we would have to deal with all of that way sooner.” You had quickly admitted that you did not know how long the peace would last, but you seemed pretty satisfied by the way things were happening overall, despite his accidentally causing the power cell to be stolen—“We’ll have the whole thing under control after this mission, don’t you worry.”

You had also claimed that you had the staking out of Shredder’s lair under control, but that is neither here nor there.

The door to his lab slides open. “Donnie,” you call, “we need to go over the game plan. How’re the explosives coming?”

‘Why is there a knife in your pocket instead of a taser?’ “Theoretically? Well.” He shrugs, getting to his feet. “I can’t really test if they work, but they’re good to go, probably.”

You smile teasingly. “They’re not gonna go off randomly?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably?” Your smile widens.

“No promises.”

“Well,” you grin, “I sure hope they’re good explosives in that case; wouldn’t wanna almost bleed out again.”

His stomach churns. “For sure,” he agrees, crossing the room as you start to “walk” back to the war room/kitchen. “Have you guys decided on anything?”

“Well,” you sigh, “Leo’s bein’ Leo if that’s what you mean. I don’t mind their plan, mind, but it seems a bit silly.” You hold the door open for him. “After you.”

“Dude, totally.” Mikey nods eagerly in agreement to something someone said. “I can get him on board, on prob.”

“Good.” Leonardo taps his finger against the blueprint splayed across the counter. “Now all we need is a big enough box.”

“There should be crates down by the docks.” Raphael looks over at you. “Any stores up top sell ‘em that big?”

“Probably.” You lean against the doorway as Donnie steps past you. “You guys know we don’t know what they’re breathing, right?”

“Yeah. So?” The green-eyed brother gestures to him. “He can figure out letting us breathe.”

“Can and did, but I’m not sure that’s what she’s talking about.” The tall boy crosses his arms across his chest absentmindedly. “If the gases they’re breathing are highly flammable—which, knowing the absurd biology of the Kraang, isn’t out of the question—” You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth, “using explosives in there might blow the roof off the place.”

“That’s good, ain’t it?”

“Not If you don’t want to be pressure cooked, no.”

“Is there some other way to destroy the portal?” Leonardo laced his fingers together, leaning his elbows on the worn island.

“Without knowing the metal they’re using?” He shakes his head. “Even if we did, I’m not sure if I could safely create hydrochloric or nitric acid, especially on such short notice, let alone transport it.”

“Then we’re screwed.” Raph looks off. “Perfect.”

“Unless you feel confident in busting out of that building on a time crunch, we’d need someone to be close enough to the bomb to actually use the detonator. Seeing as we need all hands on deck, we really don’t have anyone that could fit the bill.” Even with his back to you, you notice his tension. “Unless you guys just want to crack a window or something, but that would kinda negate the point of doing the whole stealth thing, setting off an obvious alarm.”

“That’s not true.” Mikey points out the obvious. “Y/N could do it.”

“I’m down,” you shrug, moving your hands to slide in your nonexistent pockets. “You’d need to let me know when to do it so I don’t fry you guys, but I might as well add domestic terrorism to my non-existent rap sheet.” You smile wryly at that.

You think you hear Donnie mutter something before speaking up. “I’m not sure there are any buildings high enough up or close enough to be an effective--”

“Sure there is.” Mikey, again. “There’s that apartment building across that alley. It’s plenty tall.”

“Oh yeah, huh?” Raph smiles sharply. “Even has a fire escape to climb.”

The idea of climbing anything anywhere makes you want to vomit, but the idea of having to deal with whatever goes on with the saving of Leatherhead later is enough to ignore it. ‘Stop being a pussy,’ you reprimand yourself, feeling vertigo already. ‘It’s a fucking ladder. A twenty-story high ladder, yeah, but it's still just a ladder.’

“She can’t use a ladder,” the tallest brother protests. “She can’t use one of her legs.”

“Then she can take the stairs, or we can carry her there before we go.” You take slow, deep, quiet breaths. “It’s no big deal. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing it, right?”

You are suddenly incredibly grateful that you are leaning against a doorframe. The idea of being carried over buildings, twenty stories into the air, makes the ground sway underneath you. You subtly dig your fingernails into the walls on impulse, trying to slowly relieve the pressure.

“It’s not about—What are you even talking about?” You barely register his bashful embarrassment, swallowing thickly. “I’m just saying…”

You can barely hear them, shutting your eyes as you feel sticky, warm blood on your fingertips, dripping down in between your digits. You wipe the phantom liquid off on your jeans quickly, thoroughly, opening your eyes to see what you register as the other three ragging on Donnie about something you do not catch. You lock your knees to keep them from shaking as bad as your hands, ignoring the nausea and staring straight ahead. ‘Your folks didn’t raise a wuss. Your hands aren’t wet. Snap out of it.’

You force yourself to focus on counting threads in your sleeves. You get to thirty-five before you feel someone shaking your shoulder.

“Dude, you alright?” Mikey was waving a hand in front of your face, having apparently crossed the room from his seat on the counter. “Hello?”

Your eyes snap up from your wrist to look at him. “Hm? Yeah, totally.” You nod. “Just zoned out is all.”

He put the back of his hand to your forehead as if he knew what he was looking for. “You sure? You look sick.”

You nod again. “Just didn’t sleep well last night. I’m fine.”

“Do you plan on zoning out during the mission?” Raphael smirked. “Don—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “I’ll be fine. When are you guys going?”

“A couple of hours.” Donnie is staring holes into you. “The hours listed online say actual people work until then, but the actual building is open for another few hours, so by the time we get far enough down to hopefully not feel the effects of the blast, we won’t have to worry about witnesses or people getting caught up in it.”

“Awesome.” You start out the door, using the walls to limp back to the lab. “Meetcha back here in an hour.”

He runs after you. “Need me to come with you? I can help pick a crate out.” The way his words spill out is not lost on you. “O-or I could drive you there if you want—it’s bad to walk around so much on your leg, especially at night.”

“If you don’t mind vomit in your party-wagon, sure.” You slip through the gap in the door, grabbing your jacket and pulling it on. “Honestly, Donnie, I’m fine.”

“But—”

“I walk home all the time.” You use the chair to roll over to your walker, snapping it open and getting to your feet. “I’m just going to go to a hardware store, buy a couple of the largest boxes they have, grab some dinner, and come back. Besides, you have to worry about getting in, right? I’ll be fine, really.”

He wants to argue. He does not.

“Text me if you need anything while I’m out.” You maneuver past him with a bit of difficulty. “Want me to pick up some pizza while I’m out?”

“… yeah.” He nods, shaking off the feeling sinking into his gut with a bit of difficulty. “If you want some, you’ll have to eat it on your own, though.”

You smile back at him. “I’ll get something else to eat,” you roll your eyes, voice oozing with honey seemingly unintentionally. “Don’t you worry too hard about me, now; your brothers give you a hard enough time as is.”

“Don’t get yourself killed and I’ll think about it,” he jokes, mostly serious.

You laugh. “I’ll try, Dad.”

He has never noticed how loud you walk until today. Maybe it is just that it is unusually loud in comparison to him and his brothers, or maybe it is the sound of it knocking around the concrete walls of the lair bouncing the sound off the walls, but he cannot help but notice it, how easily he can identify where you are just by listening. How has he never noticed that? ‘You could hear her down the street, walking past. Anyone with ears could tell where she is, no problem.’

He feels himself grip onto the door to keep himself from running after you and insisting he come with you. ‘If someone can hear her walking down the street, someone can hear her scream. They’ll call someone. Who would leave a teenage girl to get attacked?’ He does not answer his question.

He shuts the door. ‘And she has a point. I still need to figure out how to get us into TCRI without the cameras catching us.’ He sits back at his workstation to think. ‘It doesn’t have to be too advanced. A remote-controlled dolly wouldn’t take much time to build, and I have the code already.’

It is not an effective distraction, but it is enough to preoccupy him for a solid half an hour.

--

You are back at the time you say you are going to be back. The trip did not take you long, although carrying the boxes and food was an unforeseen challenge, and you bought yourself a burrito and soda, so all is well. You and the guys eat in the kitchen, you do not have another episode and, all in all, you almost forget about the fact you will have to be carried up a twenty-story building.

Standing and staring up at the building they had ended up next to is an easy reminder.

You swallow your dinner back, mouth dry. ‘Commit.’ You fold your walker up, hiding it behind a dumpster and hooking your arms around Donnie’s neck before you can chicken out, shutting your eyes tight, the humming of their van—you had walked—doing nothing to ease your nerves. You hear the others say something before the engine roars back to life, the tires squealing against the asphalt as they drive off.

“I’m not going to drop you,” he promises, barely noticing the extra weight as he hooks one of his arms under your thigh to pull your body flush against his. Your legs immediately tighten into a vice-like grip around his middle, pulling him even closer.

“Fucking better not.” He starts to scale the building with a bit of difficulty, with one arm otherwise preoccupied. “I’ll haunt your ass.”

He smiles at that. He jumps up, grabbing onto the railing of a fire escape and earning a squeak of terror and a quiet string of obscenities from you. He takes longer than usual out of necessity but finds a quiet joy in how hard you cling to him, swallowing laughs drawn out by your swears—his personal favorite is, “Oh fuck me Mother Mary!” which is a result of him overshooting the railing, resulting in both of you violently swinging back and forth for a time.

“Are we on solid ground?” Your voice is pleading.

“We’re on the roof, yeah.”

You let go, sliding down to your knees and lacing your fingers together behind your neck, breathing for the first time in the eternity—two minutes—it had taken to get there. You want to cry, your heart pounding out of your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?”

You nod once, shifting back and putting your head between your knees to regain your head.

‘Did I do something wrong?’ He crouched down in front of you, concerned. “You sure?”

You nod again.

“Are you being honest?”

“I will be in a sec,” you snap shakily.

He backs off, staying in that position.

You give yourself a count of fifteen before looking back up at him. “I’m good.” You take a deep breath, pulling yourself into him again. “Let’s do this shit before I’m not.”

The journey over is painfully silent, other than your guys’ breathing. Balance is the only real problem throughout. Holding you and making sure not to crush you makes the normal measures he would normally use to soften his falls impossible, meaning his jumps cannot be as high or far as normal—the last thing you need on top of everything else is a concussion. The trip might have been rendered shorter had it not been for the need for the Kraang to know nothing of their whereabouts, but he does not think it is too long until he moves to let go of you.

You do not let go of him.

“Y/N?”

Nothing.

“Y/N,” he says again, “we’re here.”

You do not move to let go of you, your heartbeat thundering against his chest.

“I’m going to set you down.” He unhooks your legs, lowering himself and setting you on the floor. “See?” He unlatches your arms, gently pulling you away from him.

Your face is white as a sheet, mind only barely registering the fact you were on solid ground. He would be concerned you were dead had it not been your incredibly fast pulse. You stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused.

You blink, pushing the hair out of your face as you get to your feet. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Zoned out. Tired.”

He hesitantly gives you the detonator. “Alright,” he relents. “You know the plan, right? You remember it still?”

“I’m scared, not dumb.” Your face flushes. “Sorry. That was mean.”

He blinks, confused. “It’s fine,” he shrugs. “Lack of sleep can cause irritability, especially in teenagers.” His voice is soft despite his own anxiety about the whole plan. He hands you your phone. “I’ll come back to pick you up. If I don’t in two hours, text me. If I don’t respond…” he trails off.

Your stomach drops. “You will,” you assure him firmly. “I know you will.”

“If I don’t,” he nods in agreement, if only for your sake, “hell will’ve frozen over anyway.”

You chuckle nervously at that. You reach over, cupping his face in your hands. “Seriously, though,” you make him look at you properly, “kick their asses for me.”

He smiles, his face heating up under your hands. “You got it.” He gets up. “See ya, then.” He smiles tipsily, waves, and runs off.

You watch him bound rooftops, grateful he had seemingly not noticed the violent shaking of your hands as you set the electronics down. You swallow again, dragging yourself and leaning your back against the ledge, crossing your legs in front of you. You lean over, placing the detonator down next to you carefully and picking your phone up. You shakily input the passcode, turn the volume as low as it would go, and press the speaker to your ear, sinking into a song with a slow exhale of breath. While you had refused yourself any illicit substances for the same reason you had gotten rid of your sleeping pills, you saw no issue with relying on music for some stress relief, the familiarity of the slower song letting your heartbeat match its rhythm.

You reach down, pulling your pant leg up and carefully peeling the tape from your good leg, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the paring knife and holding it at your side. Sure, you know, logically, it would do little but hinder you in a fight, but you felt as though you needed something, anything to make you feel less weak. You already feel the embarrassment from clinging onto him so tightly, tears pricking at your eyes. “You’re the literal definition of a damsel in distress,” you mumble, scoffing at yourself. “A young, unmarried woman who is in distress. A crazy damsel in distress at that.” You blink them away. “God, you’re really fucking pathetic, huh?” You chuckle, swallowing again and pressing the phone closer to your ear. “You’re almost a fucking adult and you’re scared of a little height and a little blood. Perspective, Y/N.”

It feels like an hour of sitting, knees now at your chest as you listen to music to take the edge off—‘Like taking ibuprofen for an amputation.’ Regardless of how effective it is, it does something, at least, and that is all you can ask for right now.

You jump out of your skin when your phone buzzes with a text. You fumble with it, pulling it to your face to read Casey asking if you were still free next Tuesday for his stupid fucking game. You text him back that, yes, you are, and hope he stubs his toe for the false alarm.

--

The text comes at eleven-o-three.

You almost drop the phone, the message “NOW” crossing your screen. You pick the device up carefully, craning your neck back to glance at the building across the street, feeling as though you missed something incredibly important despite knowing the contrary. You swallow one more time and slam your hand down on the button.

The sound of the explosion roars in your ears, your eyes widening at the light now illuminating the roof, images of that night burning in your head and squeezing your throat. You drop the detonator, covering your ears as the ground in front of you is seemingly set alight. It barely registers to you that it is a cold autumn night. Why would you care when all you can hear is screaming? Why bother when your heart is begging to be let out of your chest, when your blood is pooling under you and all your scars are open? All you can see as you shudder, shutting your eyes tightly, is that man’s sides slashed with glass, warm red dripping out of him and onto the dashboard.

You look up, choking on your fear.

You remember what you forgot.

The walls of the top three floors of TCRI?

They are made entirely of the glass now showering down on you.

Table of Contents

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

[shadow-assassin-blix]

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

CHAPTER 7

A/N: Okay. So this one is a long one. It’s like 10k. Many things happen. A lot of family drama but fluff to even it out. So we see the return of Javier and Horacio, briefly along with some Steve. Escobar and Valeria appear and are not viewed in great light. (Valeria is not my favorite character tbh).

Warnings: Okay. So. There is some childhood abuse talked about, nothing in extreme detail but I marked when it begins and when its safe again. There’s a brief mention of an attempted assault, not detailed just implied. Um. 

As always: “Speak” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’

She had cleaned up the house for the most part and was satisfied with the work she had done. She had just started to sit down when there was a knock on her. She made her way to the door, answering it.

“Salcedo? What brings you here?” She asked surprised.

“Pacho wants you close by. Escobar is not happy and Pacho is worried that you may be a target,” He quickly explained.

She sighed, somewhat annoyed, “And I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice in this matter?”

Salcedo gave her an apologetic look.

“Let me go get some things. I have 2 boxes of mail to go through so that shall be coming with us,” She tells him quickly.

She handed him the box of cards, letters and small gifts. He took it with a nod and another guard came up and took the heavier box from her family in New York. She grabbed some of her own clothes, and necessities packing them into a suitcase quickly. Once she was ready, they drove her to Pacho’s home.

She walked in, noticing the brothers were there with Pacho. She sees Alvaro sitting next to him reading a book, a notepad near him for when he stopped to write every so often.

She made her way over to the couch, taking the open seat by Pacho quietly. He continued to speak to Miguel about something, the only sign that he gave that he noticed she was there, was his hand coming to rest on her knee.

Salcedo and Córdova set her boxes near her, before taking her suitcase upstairs to her room.

While they talked, she began opening cards. Most of them were from other fighters, who wished her a happy birthday and told her they missed her.

Some had cash stuffed in their cards. Others they sent a gift, that was in the form of a fox. She lined up several trinkets, shakers, towels, and such, all fox themed.

Gilberto asked with a laugh, “Why do you have so many foxes, little one?”

“It’s a long story…” She said with a shake of her head.

She had eventually gotten through all of the birthday wishes, and all that was left was regular mail, so she set the box aside for now.

She walked over to the heavier box, laying it down flat. She pulled out a knife to cut the tape that sealed it. As she pulled open the flats, the first thing she saw was a note resting near a some brand new boxing gloves.

She quickly pulled them with an excited squeak.

“Yesss. Been needing a new pair,” She mumbled throwing a glove on to see how it fit.

She clenched her fist a few times, checking it out. Once she was satisfied, she set them gently onto the coffee table. She turned back to the box and noticed there was plain white box sitting in there as well, so she set it and the note aside for a moment.  She cleared away the tissue to find bubble wrap and it was tightly wound across the large item that was inside.

She gently cut down the sides of the cardboard box, so it was completely flat. She then gently lifted the item up and began to unwrap it one-handed.

She slowly revealed a shadow box, that had her old fight outfit, a few news articles, and her first pair of gloves pinned inside.

“The Silver Vixen?” Came Pacho’s voice as he walked up to get a closer look at it.

“That was my fight name,” She said softly staring at the items inside fondly.

She looked up, and gently waved over a couple guards, asking them to put it some place safe for her. They did, carrying it off to the side. She turned to the white box and note.

She opened the note reading it quickly.

‘Hey sis, on the off chance that you ever come back home, we figured you should have the proper gear and attire beforehand. Love you, Happy Birthday! – Jack & Andy’

“Oh lord,” She whispered as she realized what exactly was in the white box.

Pacho raised an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly.

“Well. Go on. Show us,” His voice was teasing.

She pulled the lid off, shoved the tissue paper away and pulled out a sports bra, a pair of shorts, and a silk robe, all in a dark silver. All embellished with the words “Silver Fox” in white stitching.

“You never told me you were a fighter,” Pacho noted staring at the items.

“I mean… I only did like 10 tournaments/matches,” She waved it off.

“Uh huh. And how many did you lose?” Gilberto asked with a teasing smile.

She looked every which direction, not making eye contact as she not so casually scratched her face, before holding up one finger.

“One? You lost one match?” Miguel asked with a shake of his head.

“Yeah. I did it for a year… during my last match, there was an FBI recruiter in the crowd, and he told me I should apply. So… I did,” She explained briefly, retaking her seat. “And now here I am.”

Pacho leaned over and quietly whispered, “I find that strangely sexy. I might have to see some of these moves of yours.”

She shook her head, smiling at him somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m really not that good. Just… quick,” She replied modestly.

As they resumed talking about business, she grabbed the rest of her mail at the bottom of the box.

She quickly flicked through them, determining them to be junk mail. She checked the box and saw a manilla envelope at the bottom, she grabbed it setting it to the side as she dumped her cards and gifts back into the box, tossing the fighting outfit in there as well.

She was following along with their conversation, as she set the somewhat thick envelope onto her lap.

She looked down at it, her breath catching in her throat as she noticed the address. She swallowed thickly as her hands pulled the plain envelope off, turning it around to open it.

She opens it with somewhat shaky hands, and sees a newspaper sticking out of it. She pulls it out, unfolding it. After flipping it over, she noted it was the local newspaper from her hometown. More specifically, the obituary section. Her eyes drifted down to the column smacked dab in the middle of the page.

‘Aurelia Lage, 59, passed away…’

That was all she was able to read before she dropped the paper. She stood up suddenly and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of tequila before walking outside.

Pacho, grabbed the newspaper that she had dropped, searching it for answers. He quickly found it, recognizing the last name. He sets the paper down and grabs the manila envelope and slowly follows her outside.

She was sitting on the grass, the bottle of tequila resting between her legs. Her face was pale, and she was trembling.

He slowly made his way over to her, sitting by her side. He watched her take a long drink, with a small grimace.

“Your mother?” He prompted quietly.

Blix nodded her head.

“I. I don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Happy? Numb? How does one feel, knowing that the person who hated your entire existence is dead?” She asked rhetorically.

She sighed heavily, knowing she had to finally tell him everything.

“My mother… She uh… had my sisters with her first husband. He died… and she went on the hunt for husband number 2,” She began with a scoff.

“She found him in the mayor of our fair town. A married man, mind you. He and his wife… were having trouble conceiving a child. That was the kind of woman my mother was. She saw a woman, who tried and tried to have kids, and saw it as a weakness to take advantage of,” Blix said bitterly. “They had their affair. She got pregnant, but uhh… so did his wife. His wife had a healthy baby boy… a month after I was born. Do you know what it’s like to have sibling who has no idea you exist?”

Pacho didn’t respond, he just wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close.

TRIGGER WARNING

“Suffice it to say, the mayor left my mother. And me. The… abuse… started slowly. I would get in trouble far more often than my sisters, even if I wasn’t involved. Time outs were longer. Which slowly led to her locking me in my room… and starving me for days. My sisters… they tried to help, but I didn’t want them to get in trouble…” She took a deep breath, having to steal her nerves to explain the next part.

“When that longer worked, it became physical. I’m not going to explain all of it… but it came to a head when I was 15. She threw a vase at me. It broke against my face. I uhh. I needed 100 stitches to close the wounds,” She stuttered, sniffling as tears began to fall.

TW END

“I grabbed what money I had hidden, from doing odd jobs around the neighborhood. Ran away, once the stitches were out. I made my way to New York. Got busted with some other kids with stolen goods. Judge sent me to a group home and made me go to therapy. That lasted a month,” She snorted at the memory.

“Was about 19. Trying to find shelter from the rain. A couple of guys… cornered me. It was pretty obvious… what they had planned. Tried to fight them off. The owner of the building we were next to, heard the commotion. Scared them off. Took me in. Gave me a job at his gym. Made me get my GED. Was his best fighter for a year, before I became an FBI agent. Traveled the world. Landed here...” She trailed off.

“Met a man who, while a commitment-phobe, taught me to love myself as is. Then I ran into you… and the past 2 months? Have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” She stated, looking at him.

Pacho smiled softly, beckoning her to him. She slowly crawls into his lap; she goes to bury her face into his shoulder but stops.

“I’m going to ruin your shirt,” She mumbled.

“Honey. I can literally buy 20 of these. I don’t care if you ruin it,” He informed her quietly, running his hand through her hair.

She stared at him for a moment, before slowly burying her face into him, as smalls sobs began to rake through her body. He quietly shushed her, running his hands up and down her back.

She’s not sure how long she sat like, but by the time her tears became small sniffles, she was exhausted. She slowly pulled away, rubbing her face to dry it off.

Pacho slowly pulls the envelope forward, asking, “Do you want me to open it?”

She nodded her head, “It’s her will for sure, but I don’t know what else is in it.”

“How do you know that?” Pacho inquired as he gently opened it.

“The name. Whit Jacobson? He does all of the will and testaments. He also runs the funeral home and crematorium. ‘Your one stop shop, for when a family member drops.’” She mocked, her eyes rolling.

Pacho paused in his movements, “Please do not tell me… that was his slogan?”

She nodded her head, smiling tightly.

Pacho shook his head, pulling out the documents inside. She took it with shaky hands, looking it over. She noticed almost immediately… that it was off. There were large gaps between each paragraph and some sentences even cut off halfway through a word.

“Great. Now I need lawyer to help me deal with this bullshit,” She muttered annoyed.

She looked back toward Pacho’s hand as he pulled out a few stacks of photos. She froze as she looked at them. The first photo in each stack, was of one of her sisters. A small smile appeared as she examined them.

“Your sisters?” Pacho realized, noticing how they all resembled one another.

“This is Lily, Hope and Darla,” She pointed them out with a sigh. “Lily is the sweetest, Hope the craziest, and Darla, the oldest, is the serious one.”

“They sound lovely… but none of them could hold a candle to you,” He said sweetly.

She smiled shyly at that, and gently placed the photos back into the envelope, swearing to look at them more closely later, and put the will back in as well. Pacho made her stand up and led her over to one of the outside tables and told her to wait there.

A few minutes later, he walked back outside with a plate of food and two forks. He sat down in one of the seats and pulled her into his lap.

“Eat. Need to soak up some of that tequila you’ve been drinking,” He teased her handing her a fork.

She shook her head and took a few bites. The two of them quietly ate, occasionally playfully fighting over a piece with their forks.

Halfway through, he slowly stopped, pulling away slightly. She looked at him confused, setting her fork down, turning her attention to him.

“The last thing… my father ever said to me, was that I will never be a man. He told me this after he caught me with a neighbor boy. I was 16 and he threw me out on the streets,” He slowly began, a bitterness in his tone.

“I began working with the Cali soon after. Worked my way up the ranks. At one point… another guy, was pissed that I was doing so well. Ratted me out to the Gilberto & Miguel. Told them I wasn’t man enough, that I didn’t belong. Do you know what they did?” Pacho asked her.

She shook her head.

“They made me partner. All I am, all I have is because of them,” Pacho ended with a sigh.

She started to say something but stopped herself, voting to instead take another bite of food.

“What?” Pacho lightly asked.

She paused before mentioning, “That day… in the hotel? When we talked about the surrender? You made a face or.. maybe it was your tone… but I had feeling that you weren’t thrilled by the idea. It makes more sense now. The cartel. It’s allowed you to live how you want, without restraint or fear. Without it, what are you left with?”

He gave a short laugh, nodding his head. “You noticed that, but fail to notice several men eyeing you like your hottest thing they’ve ever seen?”

“I notice what’s important, silly. Those guys? In the long run, mean nothing to me. You, on the other hand, mean a great deal to me,” She whispered pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Also. Who was this asshole that tried to out you? Need to know in case I need to stab a hoe,” She half-joked.

“A Salvador, no one of importance to be honest. But I appreciate you wishing to defend my honor,” He laughed.

“I’m going to go to bed. Do you mind if I crash in yours? Don’t… want to be alone,” She said soberly.

He nodded his head, giving her a kiss. “I’ll join you in a little bit, alright?”

She smiled and stood up, making her way inside. She was on autopilot making her way upstairs, she didn’t even bother stopping by her room. She stepped into Pacho’s bedroom, making her way over to his closet. She grabbed one of his plain long sleeve button-ups. She stripped down to just her underwear and threw the shirt on.

She went into the bathroom to clean her face and do her business. A few minutes later, she had crawled under the covers, holding one of the pillows closely to her as she quickly fell asleep.

Downstairs, Pacho walked into the living room, sighing heavily.

“What happened?” Gilberto asked curious.

“She was informed in not so many words, that her psychotic mother passed away. She needs a lawyer to look at this will, it’s terribly edited and I’m sure someone was trying to pull a fast one,” He briefly informed him, dropping the will onto the coffee table.

“We will get ours right on it. Go to her. Gilberto and I will crash here tonight, and make phone calls in the morning, okay?” Miguel stated firmly standing up with Gilberto.

“Careful Miguel. It almost sounds like you care about her?” Gilberto teased.

“She’s a good girl and she’s good for you. She’s the Lady of Cali after all,” Miguel pointed out looking at Pacho, referencing her newly acquired nickname.

Pacho nodded and bid them goodnight. Alvaro looked at his brother and noticed he was fidgeting.

“You told her about our father,” He stated more than asked.

Pacho looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re fidgeting. You only ever do after talking about him,” Alvaro explained nodding towards Pacho’s hands.

Pacho had no response to that, and just smiled tightly.

“Go get some rest little brother,” Pacho recommended after a moment, making his way to the stairs.

When he got to his bedroom, he paused, staring at Blix who was in the middle of the bed, passed out. He noted with a soft smile that she was in one of his shirts. He quietly got ready for bed, and as he slid in next to her, she turned over, reaching for him.

He settled in, pulling her close, listening to her sigh happily as she snuggled into his arms. He noticed after a moment, Diego standing at the doorway.

Diego had come up after one of the guards who had been patrolling outside, overheard their conversation and relayed it to several others.

He strips down to just his boxer, and gently, hesitantly, lays behind her, wrapping an arm around her. She blearily looked at his arm, noticing the extra warmth, and just slowly held it to her.

Once she was back to sleep, Diego quietly asked, “How is she so nice? Survived all of that, and… is not bitter at the world?”

Pacho hummed, “I think she’s more bitter than she lets on. She just doesn’t want the world to see it. We can talk later. I don’t want to wake her up.”

Diego nodded his head, and the two of them slowly fell asleep.

When Blix woke up the next morning, she was slightly disoriented. Her eyes blinked open slowly, confused as to why she was so warm. She glanced down and noticed two different arms were wrapped around her waist. Looking to her left and right, she spotted Pacho and Diego, sleeping contently on either side of her.

She smiled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. When her vision was cleared, she spotted Alvaro waiting by the door, smirking at the sight before him.

“Hey,” She softly greeted.

“Good morning. Your phone’s been ringing, I figured you should probably answer it,” Alvaro greeted, showing her phone in his hand.

She nodded, gently sitting up, trying not to wake either men. She eventually stood up, and gingerly walked toward the end of the bed, stepping off once she got there.

She whispered a thank you as she took her phone. She noticed that Steve, Javier, and Theo had tried calling her.

She calls Theo, and once he answered asked, “What the hell happen?”

“It’s a shitshow boss. Escobar surrendered but his terms are laughable. He built his own prison and DEA can do fuck all about it. But now, the embassy is under a microscope. All staff must report in to discuss the new changes. You are wanted by 1pm boss,” Theo said rushed.

“Shit. Umm. Okay. Its 9:30? Okay, I can be there by 1. I’ll see ya then,” She answered hanging up and rushing into her bedroom.

She grabbed some black slacks, and a silk blouse from the closet, tossing them and some heels onto the bed, while she raced to get herself ready. She didn’t have time to get a shower in, so she cleaned her face, threw on a dash of makeup and healthy amount of deodorant/perfume.

She threw her hair into a slightly messy bun and tossed the shirt she was wearing to the floor. She grabbed a bra and got dressed in minutes. She tossed her FBI badge around her neck, made sure her IDs were in her messenger bag, and after securing her gun into its holster, slipped it onto her hip.

She jumped into her shoes, grabbing her bag and phone, moving quickly downstairs.

“Alvaro? Please tell your brother I will be in Bogota for the day!” She called out as she passed him.

She saw Salcedo and a few others getting into a car.

“Hey, Salcedo! Mind if I bum a ride to the airport with you guys?” She asked as she caught up to them.

Salcedo replied, “Of course. Get in.”

She hopped in, taking a seat next to Navegante. They took her to the airport, making small talk.

Two hours later, and she was standing in front of the American Embassy. She made her way inside, stopping briefly to check on her team, since they were all assembled in their water closet sized office.

Her team gave her a stack of files to go through, and a few reports she needed to sign off.

She took them with her as she walked into the conference room that was crowded with members from every department.

When she stepped in, the attention turned to her.

Her director commented, “Nice to see you finally join us Agent Lage.”

She went to apologize but a random agent, one from CIA felt the need to mutter loudly, “Too busy whoring around I’d bet.”

Her eyes narrowed, and a tight smile formed on her face, ignoring the chuckles.

“I’m sorry if I am a bit late director. I was informed of a death in my family last night,” She spoke plainly.

The director looked at her with sympathy, and said, “My condolences. Please be sure to stay the full meeting. Many things are to be discussed.”

She nodded her head and turned her gaze to the man who spoke before, “I’m sorry. Were you trying to say something earlier? Couldn’t quite hear you over your mumbling? If you have something to say, say it to my face like a man. That way at least when I knock you on your ass, you can have some dignity.”

She smiled somewhat viciously when he turned red and backed away into the crowd.

She moved toward Javier and Steve who were leaning against the wall, waiting.

A few minutes passed, before the room began to clear out. Soon it was just 2 members of each department. When they all took their seats, they were informed that Ambassador Noonan has retired.

“I am to be your new ambassador and things are going to change around here,” Arthur Crosby spoke firmly.

He laid out the new guidelines, especially for the DEA. He told them that everyone will be setting up in Medellin in a new office.

He eventually turned his attention to her and Theo.

“I want the both of you to bring me up to speed about these museum robberies,” He demanded looking at them expectantly.

“Our suspect is Augustus König. He’s wanted around the world for numerous robberies. We have narrowed down a list of potential warehouses that he may be using to hideout, and store everything he’s stolen. As far as we are aware, he hasn’t sold any of the items,” Blix began speaking.

“… and… He knows who I am. We ran into each other the other day. I don’t think he’s aware of the other members of my team, but he made me well aware that he doesn’t fear law enforcement,” She concluded hesitantly.

Theo looked at her surprised.

Stechner snorted, “Hm. Was that… before or after your little trip to Medellin the other day?”

She looked at him and asked, “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“Hmm. No, just find it interesting that both you and the Cali Cartel were seen in Medellin around the same time,” He said with feigned innocence.

“Are you having me followed?” She accused her face hardening. “Ambassador, I apologize but this is something I would like addressed. Seeing as how, my lovely… coworkers here… had no qualms about leaking my dossier to said cartel, and your predecessor knew about it.”

Crosby raised his hand to stop Stechner from speaking, “Listen, all of you. The priority is the Medellin cartel and the Communists. No more spying on other agencies, if there is not a valid concern. No more arguments. No more fights.”

He stared pointedly at Blix when he said the last line.

“Now, if this König is indeed aware of you Agent Lage, then I would hope you are taking the necessary precautions to make sure this doesn’t blow up in our face. The Colombians would have a field day if they learned we were the reason for millions of dollars of priceless art was lost forever because of a minor mistake,” Crosby returned to the subject at hand, subtly warning her to not mess up.

She nodded her head in affirmation. They spoke more next steps, and toward the end her phone began to go off.

She winced and quietly answered it, “Hello?”

“Miss Lage? This is Alan Starkman, Pacho called me to look over your will?” Came a male voice.

“Oh. Um. Do you mind if I call you back in about 10 minutes, I am in the middle of a meeting?” She requested trying to end the phone call quickly.

“Sure,” He replied before hanging up.

She rolls her eyes and puts her phone back into her pocket. “Sorry. Lawyer.”

They finished up the meeting without further interruptions and as she stepped out, she turned to the ambassador.

“Uh. Sir. Just a quick note, I am having to deal with some nonsense regarding my mother’s will, and I may have to make a trip to Georgia to fix things,” She spoke quietly.

“Do what you need to do. You have my condolences as well,” He remarked making his way to his office.

She nodded her in appreciation but was internally grimacing.

She quickly called the lawyer back, who was quick to inform her that many things were off. He has it set for them to meet with Whit Jacobson at 1pm tomorrow in Georgia, with her sisters.

She thanked him for his help and said she’d meet him tomorrow at the airport.

Once that was done, she sighed heavily. This was not how she expected her day to go.

She worked on the files she had at hand, finishing them up in an hour, when Javier appeared at her desk.

“You finish?” He quietly asked.

She nodded her head, he told her to come with him.

She does so, following him to his truck. They drove for a while before pulling up to a familiar home, where the car out front was packed full of suitcases.

“Horacio has been reassigned. Figured you’d want to say goodbye before he’s shipped to Spain,” Javier tells her.

She kissed his cheek in thanks and stepped out. She walked up to the door, knocking on the frame, and calling out “Anyone home?”

She hears two sets of feet running toward her and was almost knocked off her feet when two small bodies ran into her.

“Ah! My favorites! How are you my loves?” She exclaimed picking them both up in her arms and waddling with them into the living room.

They tell her they were sad that they had to leave. “Oh, I’m very sad too. I may have to steal you and take you to Cali with me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Julianna remarked as she walked over. “I might let you.”

Blix laughed as she put them down, giving Julianna a hug in greeting.

“He’s out back,” Julianna tells her nodding her head toward the backyard.

Blix slowly made her way to him outside. He was staring off into the distance, hands in his pockets.

“Hey old man,” She greeted, lightly teasing him.

He turned around to face, a small smile on his face. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. He returns it muttering, “Hey, brat.”

She hugged him for a solid minute, not really wanting to let go, but she didn’t want to make it weird.

She pulled away with a sigh, asking in disbelief, “They’re really reassigning you to Spain?”

He nodded his head, and opened his mouth to respond when he stopped, moving his hand to tilt her chin up. He examined her face with a frown.

“Have you been crying, little fox?” He asked concerned.

“I found out my mother died… and I have to go back home to Georgia to fix some bullshit concerning her will,” She muttered quietly, breaking her gaze with his.

He sighed softly, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. He was one of the few people she had confided in about what had happened to her when she was young. In that moment, she looked so small and though she did her best to hide it, he could tell she was scared.

“What do you need me to do? Need me to go with you tomorrow? I’ve been told I can be quite intimidating,” He offered her.

“You’ve been told huh?” She repeated with a teasing smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but… this is something I need to face alone. You always said that my past will try to catch up to me. Well. It has,” She denied his offer with a shake of her head.

“Doesn’t mean you should go through it alone. I know we butted heads a lot in the beginning, but you’ve become a kid sister to me. If you need me, you can always call me. Day or night,” Horacio informed her sweetly.

She felt her nose twinge and lip tremble, as she tried to not cry in front of him. She couldn’t quite speak, so she just simply threw her arms around him in another hug. He chuckled quietly and hugged her back.

She stepped back after a moment, sniffling softly, trying to calm herself.

“I’ll miss you,” She whispered.

He threw an arm around her shoulder, mumbling into her hair that he would miss her as well, as they walked back inside.

She said her goodbyes to everyone and made her way back to Javier in his truck. Javier drove her to his apartment after that, and she sat somewhat numbly on his couch as he made lunch.

A sandwich and some chips were presented to her, and she took it with a soft ‘thank you.’

He sat next to her, throwing on some tv, a movie of some sorts. The two of them quietly ate, setting their plates on the coffee table once they were both done. She was vaguely aware that he had on Star Wars.

She slowly rested her head against his shoulder, he held her hand in response. She quietly told him what was going on with her family. He was quiet the entire time, listening to her. When she was finished, he didn’t react at first. He surprised her when he suddenly pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He held her close, and that’s how they sat for most of the day.

When evening rolled around, she made a few phone calls that she needed to do before tomorrow. When it came around time to go to bed, she collapsed on top of him once he was laying down on the bed.

“At some point… I do want to talk about you... about… that phone call I made… a while back. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night. I do…think about us… Probably more often than I should, given I was the asshole who called it off,” Javier voice spoke out into the darkness.

“…I think about it too… but maybe for now… it’s a good thing we are not together. We both have very different priorities when it comes to our jobs. Maybe… in the future we could talk about this more in detail,” She requested politely, even though in her head, she didn’t know if a future with Javier would happen. Not with the feelings she had for Pacho.

He nodded his head, “Yeah. This whole thing with Escobar… is… draining. I’d rather you didn’t witness any of the fallout. As ridiculous as it sounds, you’re safer in Cali.”

She thought in her head, ‘Yeah. Especially when I’m dating a Gentleman.’

They fell asleep and the next morning, she slipped out. Getting dressed in what she wore yesterday, before heading out to the airport. She met with the lawyer, an older man who was a bit on thicker side. He gave her a bag of clothes to change into, before they hopped into one of the cartels personal planes.

She made her way toward the bathroom, relieved to see there was a small shower. She cleaned herself off before looking into the bag that she was handed. As she changed, she noted that Pacho was probably the one who picked out the outfit. It was a black button-down silk shirt, with black pencil skirt that went past her knees, with a matching pair of black pumps.

She walked out feeling fresh as their flight made its course. The trip took 5hrs and soon they had landed. She grimaced with disdain at the humidity and the heat. They got into a car and made their way to Willow’s Creek, Georgia.

She made some calls on her way there and as they parked outside the courthouse, after driving into town, she let her lawyer walk in first to finish up her calls.

Minutes later, she was walking, and stopped just next to the conference room where she could Jacobson complaining that he was being scammed and what an outrage this was.

“Indeed, Whit… what an outrage?” She mocked stepping inside.

She momentarily froze when she saw her sisters, whose faces all lit up as they took her in.

“This,” She set her copy of the will down before them. “Was what he sent me. And just glancing at the original, you see that I was given forged document.”

Darla, was the first to move, taking the will into her hands and looking at with growing outrage.

“What the hell is this Whit?” Came her voice, deeper than she remembered, but with a hint of sultry.

“Whit… here. You what? Thought I was an idiot? That I would sign this blindly? Hmm?” She questioned, turning her attention to him, as he nervously stuttered.

“It’s a shame… especially when,” She pulled out her badge presenting it to him. “I’m a federal agent. It’s a bigger shame that… I had to cash in a couple of favors with the White-Collar division. Because if you were willing to screw me over…. How many other families did you do this to?”

Behind her, in the office, several agents had begun to enter and were seizing everything.

“I would nev-” Whit began to deny.

“Uh huh. It’s interesting that a man who barely makes 30k a year is able to afford a Porsche and the house you own… Are you really going to keep denying this?” Blix smiled victoriously.

An agent came in serving a warrant, arresting him. She waved goodbye as he passed her.

“Is this the original?” She asked turning around to face her sisters who looked at her in shock.

Lily nodded her head. Blix grabbed her pen from her bag and quickly signed the will with a sigh.

When it was done, she looked at Starkman and requested, “You’ll get me a copy of this, yeah?”

He nodded his with a smug smile, “There are some assets that do need to be discussed. Ladies?”

Blix reluctantly sat down across from them, and said, “Shoot.”

Lily spoke first, “Well. Um. We all discussed that the ranch and everything should go to you. You loved it the most, it’s only right it goes to you.”

Lily slid a small envelope that had a set of keys inside.

Blix smiled smally, taking them.

“The house. Um. None of us want it and I doubt that you do either,” Darla took over pausing to see Blix shake her head ‘no.’ “So, we are dividing everything among us, and selling off/throwing away furniture we don’t want. The grand piano is yours.”

“Along with all the books in the library,” Chimed in Hope, her voice bright and cheery.

“The last sort of major items are the cars. The Morgan, the Convertible, and the Mustang,” Lily ended.

Blix thought for a moment before stating, “Well. Darla should get the Morgan. It was always your favorite. Plus, you were the only who learned how to drive stick.”

They all chuckled a little at that.

“Then… the ‘stang and convertible should go to either of you. I don’t need a car, have plenty,” She said looking at Lily and Hope.

They both nodded, Darla then stated, “That’s all of the major items, like we said, we’re just going to divide everything evenly. We did, however, find one thing, that you should have now.”

Lily giggled as she pulled out a small pink bomber jacket, that had the words “Pink Lady” on it.

“Good lord where did you find that?” Blix asked mildly horrified as she took it.

“One of the boxes in the attic, we all found ours, so we hoped that you would come and get yours. Maybe give it to any little ones you wind up having?” Hope explained somewhat shyly.

Blix smiled at it and whispered a soft ‘thank you,’ before folding it gently and putting it in her bag.

“If that’s everything, I need to be going soon. Work waits for no one,” Blix noted standing up.

“Uhh. Just… one last thing… you… you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to mom’s little black book, do you? People… keep trying to claim that she owed them stuff from years ago,” Lily asked worriedly.

Blix paused at the door, sighing. She turned to them and said, “I have it. I’ll fax over a copy I made for you guys.”

She then grabbed a scrap piece of paper from her bag and put down her numbers on it.

“You can uh… call me on either of the first 2 numbers. The third is my fax. I’ll be sure to get that info to you guys, asap,” She said, pushing the paper to them, and walking out.

Her hands shook as she threw on her sunglasses, just before she made it to the door. She wasn’t sure how to react with everything. She stepped outside and made it halfway down the stairs when she saw a peculiar sight.

“Pacho,” She said, drinking in his form as he leaned against a motorcycle, looking every bit the bad boy persona.

She strolled over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, under his leather jacket.

“What are you doing here honey?” She asked with a smile.

“Checking up on my girl. How are you?” He wondered looking her over.

“Better now that you’re here,” She replied sweetly, giving him a kiss.

He kissed back and told her, “I came to steal you away for a few days. I have some business down in Florida I need to take care of. I figured you and I could have some much needed alone time.”

She smiled at that and started to answer when she heard someone clear their throat. She turned around and spotted her sisters standing, looking at the two of them curiously.

“Pacho. These are my sisters. Lily, Hope, and Darla. Guys, this is Pacho, my boyfriend,” She introduced quickly.

Pacho smiled charmingly and said hello to them with a small wave.

Lily was the first to react, throwing her hands around Blix, pulling her into a tight hug.

Blix was not expecting, giving a small “Oof!”

Hope and Darla joined in and were hugging her as well.

Pacho smiled as he noted that Blix was trying and failing to not cry. Staring at her sisters, he noted their caramel blonde hairs, and blue-green eyes. Seeing them together, he realized, if Blix had been blonde, it would’ve been difficult to distinguish who was who.

They said their goodbyes and promised to call each other.

Blix wiped her eyes, returning to Pacho’s embrace.

“So. How exactly do you expect me to ride comfortably on this thing in this skirt?” She asked with a laugh.

“The skirt shortens,” He tells her with a smirk.

She looked down at it and spotted that just above the knee was flap that perfectly covered the zipper. She unzips it without care, stepping out of it, and tossing the fabric into her bag.

It was still a bit tight but gave her legs more mobility. She moved to straddle the bike but stopped.

“Can we… make one quick pitstop before we go to the airport?” She pleaded.

He nodded his head, and she directed them to a place that was about half a mile away from town.

As he pulled up, she took in the crumbling barn in the distance, and the house that had seen better days.

“This is your grandparents place, yes?” He confirmed as they stopped.

She nodded her head, “My sisters gave it to me.”

Blix walked toward the house, hesitantly. She looked all around, remembering how beautiful it once was. It saddened her to see it in the state it was in.

She pulled out the key, and gently opened the door, brushing away cobwebs that had formed near the entrance.

The inside of it still looked the way it did when she was child, just dusty. There was only one thing she wanted from inside. A photo. It sat on the mantle, just above the fireplace. She brushed off the layer of dust that had built onto it, revealing her as a child, with a large black stallion.

She picked it up, brushing it off as best as she could, as she made her way back outside. She locked the door behind her, and then gazed fondly at the frame in her hands.

She moved back to Pacho, and shyly showed him the photo. He smiled as he stared at it.

“Aww. Look at you. So cute. Was this your horse?” He asked teasing lightly.

“Yeah. His name was Zeus. I was the only he would let ride him. He was very... peculiar. I found out later on, that they rescued him when he was a foal, and he had been starved. I’m pretty sure he uh. He knew. Kindred spirits and all,” She explained softly.

“What happened to him?” Pacho inquired curiously.

“He was sold. He uhh. Went to a farm where he became a racehorse and had many babies. He died about 5 years ago? I think? He was 20,” She stated as she gently placed the frame into her bag.

Pacho stared at her and mentioned, “You looked very happy in that photo. Now I see why my ranch made brought you such joy.”

She simply gave him a kiss and got back onto the bike with him. They rode away, Blix feeling lighter and more relaxed than she’s felt in a long time.

They drove to the airport, hopped onto a plane, greeting Navegante. It wasn’t long before they landed in Florida and made their way to a small, nondescript motel.

The plans discussed were about getting rid of the Lion and taking over Escobar’s market here in Florida. It took about 3 days to get the assets under Cali’s control, and watching Pacho work his charm was a sight to behold. In their free time, he wooed her, taking her to museums and parks. At night they spent tangled up each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another.

When the work was done, and they packed up their stuff, they had but one last thing to do. They invited Lion to their motel, where Navegante make quick work of him. Blix didn’t bother asking what he did with the body; some things are better left unknown.

That day they returned to Cali, and it was as she walked inside Pacho’s home, she realized, that this was becoming more of a home to her than her own place. Especially when she walked in to see Gilberto and Miguel standing there, waiting to welcome the both of them home.

Gilberto gave her a huge hug that she wasn’t expecting but accepted it. Her attention was directed to the side where a large pile of boxes laid and behind all of it, sat a grand piano. It was mahogany wood, in a Victorian style.

She wandered over it, gently lifting the cover over the keys. She looked at it and played a few notes. She noticed quickly that the keys needed to be tuned, as the tones were offkey as they played.

She ran her hand softly over the wood, noting the smalls scuffs that she knew needed to be worked out.

“Wouldn’t happen to know anyone who can tune a piano do you?” She asked them over her shoulder.

“No, but we could find one pretty easy,” Miguel offered with a chuckle.

“These got here fast? Is Starkman trying to impress me or something?” Blix questioned staring at all of the boxes.

“Possibly. You are the Lady of Cali after all,” Gilberto said grandly, with a laugh.

She turned to look at him in surprise, “The Lady of Cali? When did I earn that title?”

“It’s what the other cartels referred to you as, after the party. Kind of stuck with everyone here,” Miguel explained, with half a shrug.

“You made quite the impression on everyone. You are well liked,” Gilberto said proudly.

She smiled looking at the boxes. Most were notated as books and then one was marked “Blix’s Room.” She reached over into Pacho’s pocket, grabbing the pocketknife she knew he carried, to open it.

She held the knife, trying to control the shakiness she felt as she cut open the tape. A moment later, she set the knife down, and pulled the flaps open. Inside she could see several trophies, and a couple of small knickknacks. But the thing that caught her eye the most was the large, dark brown teddy bear.

She bit her lip as she reached in and pulled him out. She stared at him for a minute, memories flickering through her mind. When she first got him, the comfort he brought, leaving him behind when she ran away.

She slowly set him back inside, shaking her head.

“Umm. I’m not quite sure what to do with all of this?” She wondered turning her gaze to Pacho.

“We’ll figure it out. C’mon. Let’s go eat,” He suggested, holding his hand out to her.

She takes it, holding onto it tightly as they made their way to the table to eat.

Elsewhere, in La Catedral, Escobar was concocting a plan. Blackie had come to him with some interesting developments.

He wanted to get back at the Cali Cartel, but he had to get rid of their little federal agent. Not permanently but distracted. Away from them for a time.

He made a call to Valeria and slid the information to her.

“Sorry, Miss Lage, but this is too good to pass up,” He murmured to himself looking down at the file.

Back with Blix, she was listening to Gilberto tell a story about Pacho from when he first began, trying not to laugh at it.

Halfway through the story, Diego came in, and he looked distraught.

“Diego? What’s up?” She asked him concerned.

Diego didn’t speak, just turned on the TV that was setting in the dining room. He switched it to the channel where Valeria Vasquez was reporting.

“And in other news, I have just received info from an anonymous source. Scandalous information about a US Senator,” Valeria teased, her eyes bright.

Blix froze, sitting up straight.

“US Senator Alexander Danvers had quite the illustrious affair about 30 years ago. Now, you are probably wondering… Valeria? What does that have to do with us? Well. That affair led to a bastard child. Federal Agent Blix Lage of the FBI…. Whose stationed here in Colombia,” Valeria reported.

Blix stood up suddenly, pacing back and forth.  

“I’m going to kill him. That bastard. That fucking bastard. To hell with the DEA, to hell with extradition. I’m going to murder him. Him and that bitch,” She muttered angrily, as she paced.

“Honey? Kill who?” Pacho asked, stepping into her path, trying to get her to focus and calm down.

“Escobar! OBVIOUSLY! ‘An ANONYMOUS source?’ When EVERYONE knows she’s whore herself out to that man for any information to BOOST her career!” She exclaimed, furious.

“Can this week get ANY worse?” She murmured defeated, resting her head against his chest.

She heard her phone ring and she groaned loudly as she looked at the ID.

“Yes, Ambassador?” She greeted her voice strained.

“Get to Bogota. We apparently have a guest on their way here. This story has been running for the past hour and has made its way to US media. This is a scandal we did not need Miss Lage,” Crosby informed her.

“Yes sir. Right away,” She answered robotically hanging up.

“I have to go to Bogota. Again. Apparently… guests are making their way to the Embassy. Joy,” She relayed grimacing.

“Wait. Rewind a bit… Your father is a senator?” Miguel questioned confused.

“Unfortunately. Moved his way from small town mayor, to governor of Georgia, to US Senator. My half-brother is currently running for governor himself,” She explained dully.

Gilberto and Miguel looked at her surprised.

“Don’t get excited. That man hasn’t acknowledged my existence once. Doubt my dear lil brother even knows I exist,” She stated, cutting off any ideas that may be forming.

“When I come back from this train wreck encounter, we are going to sleep… for 5 weeks,” She said to Pacho, exhausted.

He pulls her to him, pressing kisses to her face, whispering, “Sounds like a plan.”

She went upstairs, packing a bag for a few nights, planning to stay at a hotel. She angrily threw in some clothes, slowly stopping. She closed her eyes, wishing that this was just some terrible nightmare. She collapsed to her knees, the stress of the past week hitting her hard.

She found herself crying into her hands, as silently as she could. She knew one day her past would catch up to her. She just didn’t think it would happen all at once. She was tired. She was tired of pretending she was okay. So, in the silence of her room, she cried.

Pacho made his way upstairs to check on her and stopped when he heard her sobs. He let her cry for a moment before he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. He gently lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed to lay her upon it. Once she was on the bed, he curled up next to her, softly wiping away the tears that had formed.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked in a whisper.

She shook her head, “No. The media will probably be all over me for a day or so. Don’t want the world to find out I’m also dating a cartel member.”

He nodded once, before assuring her, “I’m here if you need me. I’ll hop on a plane to you. Just say the word. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you to return to me.”

She smiled, sniffling as she tried wiping her face off to clear more tears.

“Regretting being with someone who has so much baggage yet?” She asked in a self-deprecating tone.

“No. Quite the opposite really. I’m quite in love with my Lady of Cali,” He confessed looking her in the eyes.

She felt her breath catch at that admission, and she could feel her heart swell with emotion.

“Pacho… I only just stopped crying and now you’re going to make me cry some more?” She inquired feeling tears in her eyes again.

“Are they happy tears?” He lightly questioned.

“Yes. They are. Especially when… I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you too,” She admitted kissing him.

“Good to know. Now, get to Bogota. Deal with your shit father. Come home to me and I’ll make sure you won’t be leaving my bed for hours if not days,” He promised her.

She nodded her head agreeing, before sitting up and walking into the bathroom to clean herself up real quick. Once she was done with that, she finished packing and was off to Bogota. The brothers had paid for a hotel room for her, telling her to get whatever she wants.

So, when she checked she ordered a small sandwich and fries. It was late by the time she got in, and the ambassador called her again to tell her to be at the embassy at 8am sharp and that even the president of Colombia would be joining them.

She ate quietly, before falling into a fitful sleep. When she woke up the next day, she was not prepared to face whatever hell that was waiting for her.

She showered, got dressed, and 15 mins before 8am she was at the steps of the embassy. There were reporters and photographers everywhere. She sighed and stepped out, pushing past the crowd that was shouting questions at her.

“What’s it like to be the bastard child of a US Senator?” She hears Valeria ask her just as she was about to reach the top.

She stopped, annoyance racing through her entire being.

She turned sharply around to her, and threw back, “Valeria. What’s it like being such a mediocre reporter that you lie about your ‘anonymous sources’ when we all know who you get your info from?”

Her face fell and was filled with rage as several other reporters laughed then coughed.

“Tell Mr. Escobar I say hello,” She spat out, turning away from her and walking inside.

She made her way up to conference room, ignoring the stares and whispers that erupted all around her. She stepped inside, ignoring the 3 people who were sitting down. She greeted the president and the ambassador first. She slowly turned to look at the older gentleman that sat in the middle.

His hair was once a dark brunette that now has streaks of grey, his eyes were bright green. The woman besides him, was blonde and demure looking. The last man, as she turned her gaze to take him, was her age… and honestly, they looked like they could be twins.

“Hello senator,” She greeted somewhat dully.

She took her seat and waited for the ambassador to speak.

The ambassador informed her that they are unaware of what exactly the evidence was that tied her to the senator. As he spoke, senator Danvers cut in claiming this was all a lie, a scam. That he had no idea who I was.

His denials infuriated her.

She stood up suddenly and stared him in the eyes.

“Listen. I didn’t want this. I don’t care about you. But don’t you dare lie. You had an affair. You had me, then your son. You abandoned me without a second thought. Don’t you dare say that you have no idea who I am, when we,” she pointed to the younger man, “look like twins.”

He stopped and stared at her stunned.

“I lived with this knowledge since I was 10. Just ask your wife. She knew. She knew the whole time,” She informed glancing over at her. “In fact, she was the one who told me all about it.”

“Martha, what is she talking about?” He quietly asked her.

“Yes Martha. Tell him. Tell him how you hired me to help you work on your garden and how you told a 10-year-old that she was not only a bastard, but unwanted by both of her parents,” Blix stated bitterly.

Martha looked away, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Listen. I don’t want to start a fight or interrupt your life. I was quite content in you not being in my life. I get it. My mother… she was a leech. I understand why you left her… but you left me too. And my mother made sure… to let me know that I was not wanted,” She admitted, motioning to the scars on her face.

“I have spent the past 30 years without you. I can live the next 30 or so without you. Go back home. I don’t want you in my life,” She concluded firmly.

She stepped out of the conference room and made her way downstairs to the DEA department. She spotted Steve but no Javier, so she stole his seat.

She collapsed and sat rather lazily in the chair, slumped.

“Rough day?” Steve asked taking in her posture.

“Rough week. My psychotic mother passed, had to reconnect with my sisters, dealt with some bullshit over the will which led to an arrest for white collar, someone figured out who my father is, and he and his family are upstairs trying to deny everything,” She summarized.

“Can I hide here for a time?” She asked glancing over at him.

“Sure, if you help go through these transcripts,” Steve bargained holding a stack of papers.

“Deal,” She replied taking the stack.

She sat with him for an hour, going through transcripts and helping him find any leads.

Javier eventually appeared, raising an eyebrow at her in his chair. He pulled up another chair next to her, taking half of her remaining stack. She smiled at him, as he teasingly nudged her with his elbow. They quietly worked until Theo appeared.

“Hey boss, sorry to interrupt. Um. There’s someone asking for you upstairs?” Theo tells her.

She nodded her head, finishing the sentence she was on before standing up. She ruffled Javier’s hair with her hand and reached over to do the same to Steve.

“Bye guys. Good luck,” She said, following Theo.

Theo glanced at her a few times, when they stepped into the elevator.

“Please don’t ask,” She quietly pleaded.

“Ask what?” Theo asked acting confused.

She smiled appreciatively at him. When they got up to their floor, she paused when she sees her half-brother standing by their offices.

She made her way to him cautiously.

When she was finally before him, she greeted, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Came his voice, slightly raspy. “Can… can we talk?”

She nodded and led him to her office. “I’m sorry it’s kind of small.”

Her office barely had room for the 2 chairs and desk. He waved it off.

“So. I… I gotta say… I don’t know how to start this. Um. But I guess. The beginning is best? I’m Ajax. 30. Sagittarius. Hoping to be Governor when I grow up. And would love to get to know my older sister, if she’d let me?” He introduced, rubbing the back of his neck.

Blix smiled awkwardly, and followed suit, “Blix. 30. Scorpio. FBI agent, lead investigator of the art crimes division here in Colombia. And…I would love to know about my little brother too.”

She laughed when she realized after a moment, she was doing the same neck rub he did.

“We… have the same fidget behaviors,” She muttered.

“I hear you’re a fighter and a damn good one,” Ajax complimented.

“I hear you have a really good shot at being Governor. If I was in Georgia, I may have to vote for you,” She said to him.

“Listen. My mom…I’m sorry she made you feel that way when you were younger. My… Our dad will come around eventually. He just… was shocked to say the least,” Ajax apologized.

“Mh.” She was doubtful but didn’t say much to disagree.

They talked a few more minutes and exchanged numbers to keep in contact.

She had to have few more talks with the ambassador and president for the next three days to assure that this was not going to affect her job. Once she was finally free, she made her way back to Cali on a late flight.

When she landed, she was greeted by Diego who was waiting for her.

“Honestly, I’ve never been happier to see you. Would it be weird if I hugged you?” Blix politely asked as she stood in front of him.

Diego smirked and held his arms open to her. She hugged him, feeling relieved. They get into the car and started to drive. About halfway there she noticed something was off.

“Why are you being so quiet? What happened?” Blix questioned looking at him concerned.

“He didn’t want me to tell you… but you should know. There was an attempt against Pacho… Yesterday. Escobar’s men tried to kill him while he was playing soccer,” Diego explained not looking at her.

“But he’s okay, right?” She was worried.

“Yes. Shaken up. But fine,” He assured her.

She let that information sink in. She knew it was only a matter of time before an incident like this happened. She wasn’t quite sure what her reaction was going to be when she sees Pacho. She did know that Escobar had no idea who he was dealing with.

[exauhstedsunflower]

In The Light Of The Moon

In which Cathy has a nightmare, Kitty takes her to Catalina for comfort, and they all get some rest as Cathy ponders the moon.

Cathy shoots out of bed, flinging herself to the window in a moment of adrenaline. She catches herself on the wall beside the window and looks desperately to the moon in an attempt to ground herself. That dream was bad, not just a normal nightmare. This one left her absolutely terrified, so much so that the panic allowed her to practically fly across the room.

This isn’t new, just a bit inordinate. But sometimes she’ll wake up so scared that she falls into something. The first night she was able to sleep after reincarnation she knocked over the lamp on the bedside table. Usually though, she just sits up with her heart racing and her eyes squeezed shut in a vain attempt to protect herself from the horrors.

But tonight she didn’t hurt anything, nor did she break any of her possessions. That counts as a win, she thinks to herself, feeling her heart rate slow to a reasonable pace. Still not a healthy pace, but one that she’s confident won’t send her to the hospital. She slumps against the windowsill as she feels the flight response slip away from her. The shaking hasn’t subsided, likely won’t for a few hours.

Reflecting on the dream isn’t something Cathy wants to do. No, she’d rather never think of it again. But he looked so angry, and she was so scared she couldn’t speak-

She pulls herself back up off of the wall, looking at the moon one more time. The same moon from her first life. That moon saw all of the things she sees only in her dreams now. She wonders what the moon would say about humanity, if it could speak. Maybe it would be angry; or maybe it would be tired. Or would it cry? Would it too be too afraid to speak? After all, Cathy hasn’t seen half of what it has and nearly all of her fight has left her.

Either way, it still comes back around to provide light. Will Cathy have to come back again and again, like the moon? How many cycles will she have to go through before it ends? Before she can stay in peace?

Perhaps that’s a selfish thought, she reasons. Because the moon has been doing this since the beginning of time, and it isn’t complaining. Cathy has only been at it for two lifetimes.

She looks away in shame, as if the moon might hear her thoughts. Attempting a shaking breath, she walks back over to her bed. But she doesn’t get back in it, she starts rifling through the blankets for her phone.

Slightly damp, I need a shower.

She finds her phone and checks the time. 1:23AM, she’d only slept about twenty minutes. Her dream had felt like a lifetime though. A lifetime of him grabbing my wrist and screaming-

Grabbing her towel on her way out of her room, she makes her way to the bathroom. She just puts the flashlight on her phone, not bothering with the light. It would be too harsh. It would make everything a little too real. There’s something that makes her feel protected by the dark. If the light is on it would make reality too loud, not that that makes any sense. She knows that her reasoning makes no sense, and yet here she is, setting up the shower with shaking hands in the low light of her phone. She puts her hair up into a bun so as not to wet it, and steps in.

The rhythmic feeling of the water against her back is so calming that she loses track of time. She hasn’t even picked up the soap yet, has just been standing there taking in the warmth. Maybe she misjudged how tired she really is, maybe she should have gotten back in bed and dealt with this in the morning. Because this is all so relaxing, and her adrenaline is wearing off, and she’s feeling a crash coming.

A knock on the bathroom door nearly sends her to the grave one again. She catches herself on the handle they attached when she sprained her knee. Useful, that handle was.

“Cath? Are you okay?”

Kitty, it’s just Kitty, She reassures herself. She isn’t sure who she was expecting, but hearing Kitty’s voice through the locked door makes her visibly untense.

“Y-Yeah, I’m good Kit.” She replies, kicking herself when she stutters. No way Kitty will believe that.

“Can I come in?”

The question causes Cathy to tense up again. Normally she has no issues with being naked in front of the queens. She knows they aren’t going to try anything, and she’s not the one with the sexual trauma. But right now she doesn’t want to be vulnerable, even in front of one of the people she trusts most in this house.

After a moment of careful contemplation, (Does she really want to admit that she doesn’t want to be seen right now? What would that imply?) she decides to ask Kitty to give her a moment. Only a moment, nothing more. If only to give her time to unlock the door. If only to give her time.

Forgoing any actual washing, she gets out with one quick rinse of her body. Her hands make quick work of putting her towel on as she curses the fact that she forgot to bring any actual clothing with her. She takes another small moment to prepare herself to open the door.

Are you preparing to greet the cold air? Or preparing to greet your friend? She imagines the moon is asking her these questions. It sounds calm, genuinely curious even though it knows the answer.

Perhaps all of the sleepless nights have gotten to her, she knows she isn’t as sharp as she is made to be in this life. But, to the moon’s questions- Cathy does not know the answer.

Kitty looks only concerned when Cathy opens the door, holding tightly onto the edges of her tightly wrapped towel. She’s holding a bundle of clothing out to her.

“You never remember to bring clothes with you. I brought sweats and a jumper.”

Cathy thanks her, and selfishly asks for one more moment to change. Kitty grants her the moment.

When she finally emerges from the bathroom, freshly changed into clothes that are definitely Kitty’s, not Cathy’s own, Kitty immediately takes her hand. Cathy doesn’t pull away, she doesn’t flinch or squeak in fright or pale in fear. She would like to have reacted in any way that would make Kitty not touch her, but she doesn’t. She’s never been good at saying no.

She allows for Kitty to pull her through the hall, although they aren’t heading toward their rooms. No, they’re going straight to Catalina’s tonight.

It was a given, of course. Kitty must have also had a bad night. Cathy almost feels bad, since she’s started going to the others for help at night it’s only increased the amount of interrupted sleeps Catalina gets. Kitty can’t always help, and Cathy has half the mind to put her own worries aside to comfort the girl.

She won’t; because she is a coward and can hardly speak at all. But oh, would she absolutely love to. Usually she would, too. She’d also love to pull her hand out of Kitty’s grasp, because it is beginning to feel increasingly claustrophobic.

Kitty doesn’t knock, she just opens the door and heads for Catalina’s bed. This is unlike Cathy’s usual routine because Cathy usually waits for a quiet noise of acknowledgment from the other side before walking in. Her usual is also different because she doesn’t go for the bed right away. She goes for the window, checks that she can still see the moon, then slides into bed without much of a word at all.

“Lina?” Kitty whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. Catalina wakes up immediately, only slightly aware.

“Hm?” She looks confused, clearly very tired. Cathy spares a thought of guilt as they wake her up.

“It’s Kitty and Cathy, Lina.”

That gets her up. “Are you alright?” Is always the first thing she says.

Cathy nods, she always does. And then Kitty elbows her lightly and disagrees. The only difference with tonight is that Cathy flinches.

Kitty immediately attempts to apologize, which causes Catalina to fully sit up in concern. And in turn Cathy completely shrinks in on herself at the attention she’s receiving.

Catalina, ever so gently and slowly, reaches over and pulls Cathy’s hand out of Kitty’s grip and replaces it with her own. Cathy tries her best not to look relieved that she’s not being touched anymore. Although she thinks she failed, because she can see a slight look of curiosity cross Kitty’s face.

“Nightmares?” Lina questions softly, receiving two timid nods.

She tuts softly at them, murmuring something involving mis hijas and hermosas. Of course Cathy blushes at the cooing, whereas Kitty just absolutely melts. Lina’s hands make their way up and down Kitty’s arms, almost in a petting motion, as she maneuvers her into a comfortable position tucked in tightly under the covers. It isn’t long before she’s dozing off to the tune of Spanish murmuring. Cathy nearly fell asleep watching the display.

When Lina’s attention turns to Cathy it’s unexpected. It shouldn’t be, she’s here in Lina’s bed after all. It’s just that Cathy had gotten so caught up in being the third party, she’d forgotten she came for comfort as well.

Does it count as her coming for comfort if Kitty all but pulled her here?

Lina’s soft gaze melts right into Cathy in the dark. Just the eye contact feels warm, like a hug.

“Oh, mija. You must be exhausted.”

She can only nod, because she is so exhausted that she isn’t fully able to form words.  Lina then stands, much to the confusion of Cathy. When Cathy doesn’t stand with her, Lina looks at her kindly to explain.

“Up you get. You haven’t seen la luna yet.”

It had never occurred to her that Lina might have picked up on her habit of looking at the moon. She never says anything as Cathy stares out the window. Cathy had always assumed that she’s too asleep to notice the movement until Cathy got to the bed.

She stands on shaky legs to sluggishly move to the window. Lina doesn’t touch her, just follows her with one hand ready to catch her if she falls. She isn’t sure how much longer she can stay up for. It’ll be really bad if she starts falling asleep mid walk. Cathy won’t be able to explain that away, and Lina will have seen it so she’d freak out. Cathy might actually need to seek medical help if that happens. She’s unsure what the medical support would do, but it’s always been a scary but steady option.

They make it to the window, and she doesn’t sit like she usually would on the window seat. She wishes she had one of these in her room. Although to be fair, if she had one of these in her room she wouldn’t use her bed.

The moon is still there, still watching. It’s a comfort to know, in the midst of the night terrors and chaotic waking, that there is always that peaceful looking constant. She wonders if the moon knows, if that’s the reason it keeps itself looking so regal and calm. The moon is, and always will be, a comfort to humanity.

They don’t stay by the window very long before Cathy is crying softly. Catalina immediately moves into action. Not touching, but speaking.

“Estará bien. Lo sé. Lo sé. Oh, querida, it's okay. We are here.”

She continues her reassurances until Cathy can properly breathe again, and her crying has slowed to a minimal amount. Cathy tears her gaze from the window and moves it to Kitty, who is still sound asleep in Lina’s bed.

She’d been so tired. Has been tired since they wed, why can’t he see that she’s tired? Why won’t he let her go?

In a small bit of bravery, Cathy grabs Lina’s hand. This goes against everything her body is telling her to do. Her mind is telling her to run far, far away from any human contact. Her body is telling her she’s going to get hurt. Her heart says that she’s being stupid.

But Lina just gently caresses her thumb across the top of Cathy’s hand and leads her back to the bed.

Lina gets in first, Cathy suspects this is so she can be in between Kitty and her, and then she urges Cathy under the covers as well. She doesn’t pull her in, but on the other side Kitty immediately snuggles into the woman.

It’s all so gentle, loving. A stark contrast to Cathy’s dream. Her wrist was in so much pain and he didn’t care. He may have broken it. She’s not going to be able to write like this.

“Mi hija, what’s going on?”

Cathy flinches once again when she is broken out of her flashback. The steady breathing of her godmother truly is relaxing to listen to in it’s own right, so she focuses on that to calm herself down.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes, because this is ridiculous. She should have a handle on this by now. It’s been a month since she’s let Catalina and the other queens help her and nothing productive has happened. On top of that, she can’t even stay in the present. She keeps thinking about the past, about him.

And in that moment, she thought, ‘Oh lord, I’m going to have his baby. This monster is the father of my daughter.’ She could not leave him.

“Don’t be, mija. It’s quite alright.”

She pulls her hand out of Lina’s grasp and instead grabs at the women's nightgown. Nevermind the fact that she feels like a child as she does it, she needs this right now. Lina gets the hint, because of course she does, and pulls Cathy in. Cathy tries to explain, she does, but all that comes out is a mess of my baby and he hurt me.

She feels an explanation is more than needed, but apparently Lina doesn’t, because the woman just shushes her and rubs her back soothingly.

And, under the slight light of the moon, in the embrace of a trusted family member, Catherine Parr finally falls asleep. When Catalina wakes up in the morning, she’ll be warm and held together by two content sleeping figures. Her daughters, so she calls them. They needed her, still need her. And so then she will go right back to sleep, allowing the two girls to catch up on some much needed rest.

[ahgaseda]

two can keep a secret || chapter 07

⇥ synopsis : when your father reveals his intention to remarry, you find an unlikely confidant in Mark, your soon-to-be stepbrother, but what began as a revenge fling ironically becomes far more complicated...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Only the sound of forks and knives clinking against dishes filled the dining room. Your parents always insisted on at least one family dinner per week. It had been less than a day since your fight with Mark and now you were forced to sit across from him until everyone had cleared their plates.

Mark ate like a man starved, uncaring as he stuffed his face. Your father was no different. The men said nothing whilst they filled their stomachs. Meanwhile, you poked at your steak and Mark’s mother kept looking around the table.

“Did the two of you have a fight?” she asked suddenly.

You glanced up, like a deer in headlights. Mark didn’t slow down. He swallowed what was in his mouth and simply shook his head, as if anything between you and him was inconsequential.

His mother turned her gaze to you, expectant.

“I’m sorry. I just… don’t feel very well,” you told her, offering a placating smile. It wasn’t a lie. Your stomach was in knots almost constantly since you saw those positive pregnancy tests.

“You do look pale, honey,” she crooned.

You swallowed nervously. Did you?

Mark looked up at that, giving you a scrutinizing glance. His first instinct was to worry. Had the fight and pregnancy scare stressed you to the point of illness? Before he could say something potentially damning, your father spoke up, “My daughter never complains of being sick.”

You could hear the concern in his voice.

“Don’t force yourself to eat if you feel unwell,” he continued. “You can be excused and go lie down if you need to.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, tears gathering in your eyes. You desperately wanted to get away from Mark. Rising from the table, you grabbed your plate and pushed your chair back into place. After discarding the uneaten food in the kitchen, you placed a kiss on your father’s cheek.

Then, you bolted. Locking the bedroom door behind you, you hid yourself beneath your blankets, crying until you nearly fell asleep. How were you going to tell your father that you were pregnant?

Mark set down his fork and leaned back against his chair. Was being in the same room with him that torturous for you? Because it damn sure was for him, but at least he managed to endure it.

He missed the feel of your skin and his fingers in your soft hair. The way you laughed when he tickled you or showed you something funny on his phone. How you snuggled up to him when you were sleepy and tangled your legs through his when you were cold. And the handful of times you had spoken his name in your sleep, letting him know he was on your mind even in your dreams.

Mark sharply cleared his throat and decided he needed to bury himself balls deep in another cunt until he forgot about you.

Jackson was reliable for two things: hyping up his friends when they felt like dying and organizing booze-filled parties on extremely short notice. Mark was in need of both, though he favored the latter.

When you stepped out of your bedroom, Mark was doing the same across the hall. Another downside you had forgotten about; your rooms faced each other.

You stopped in your tracks, still clutching the doorknob. Mark finished pulling on his leather jacket and met your eyes.

“Jacks is having a party,” Mark said, emotionless.

That stung. Jackson always texted you an invite to his parties. If he hadn’t, that meant Mark told him not to, which meant Mark didn’t want you to know how fucked up he was going to get.

Or that he was going to fuck around with other girls.

Flashing a brief, awkward smile, you told him, “Have fun.” Then, you brushed by him before any more words could pass between you.

Mark stood there, watching you go and battling with himself. Guilt manifested first, but he shook his head, hoping to shake the feeling away.

You hopped in the car and drove off into the night. You wanted to stay at your best friend’s place for as long as you could get away with. You didn’t want to be in the same house as Mark for a while. The secret was smothering you. Only you knew about the baby in your womb. Every time you laid eyes on Mark, you remembered you were carrying a piece of him inside you. And he had no idea.

Mark preferred drowning in alcohol than in his sorrows. Even as he chased another shot, throwing it back with a grimace, he thought about you. He couldn’t shake the image of you in his head, naked in his arms as you lulled him to sleep.

And now he couldn’t have you. He fucked it up.

You had given him a peace Mark didn’t think he was capable of anymore and it was gone as quickly as it had come. Gripping another shot tightly in his hand, Mark stared off into the distance as a realization sank in.

Jackson appeared at this side, clapping a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “How goes it, brother?”

“I’m in love with her,” Mark whispered.

Jackson froze. He knew exactly who his best friend was talking about. Rubbing his chin, Jackson glanced around to make sure no one was listening in and whispered, “I didn’t invite her. Like you wanted.”

“Good,” Mark said, downing another shot.

“Mark, do you need to talk about…,” Jackson started.

Mark rose from his seat and growled, “Where’s Leah? I know she’s around here somewhere.”

“Yeah…,” Jackson trailed, voice sympathetic. Leah was known for being easy. She was also known for having her eyes on Mark since the first time she saw him.

Mark spotted her in the crowd and headed toward her without another word. He approached her while she danced, wrapped an arm around her waist, and whispered in her ear, “Still want me to fuck your brains out?”

Leah couldn’t drag him upstairs fast enough.

Mark kissed her hard and rough, but she wasn’t you. Her hands felt like ice against his warm skin. Her legs were stiff around his waist. Mark could only picture you beneath him.

Leah, on the other hand, was ready to devour him. She stripped down to her bra under him and unbuckled his pants, reaching for his cock and letting out a moan. She gripped his half-hard shaft and nipped at his neck.

Then, Mark did the unthinkable.

He whispered your name.

Leah grabbed his face, pushing him back and scowling at him with wide, shocked eyes. “What did you just say?”

Mark blinked through his tequila-induced daze. “What?”

“Oh my god, you said her name,” she exclaimed in horror and quickly rising jealousy. “Your fucking stepsister!”

“No, I didn’t,” he stammered.

“I heard it, Mark. Holy shit. Are you screwing her?”

“What? No!”

Leah scrambled out of the bed, snatching her shirt and tugging it back on like she had finally discovered shame. “That’s disgusting.”

Rage and hurt boiled inside Mark until it spilled over and promptly exploded. Angrily, he shouted, “She’s not my stepsister!”

Leah blinked, a twisted smile pulling at her lips. Rather than deny, he justified it. “Oh, you are so fucked.”

Mark understood by the look on her face that life as he knew it was officially over. “You have no idea…,” he huffed in defeat.

You were a mixture of relieved and devastated that you didn’t see Mark at classes the next day. There were a few times your schedules overlapped and you would pass each other in the hall. He must have gotten drunk enough to warrant a hangover from hell.

But Leah made sure to shoulder check you as the two of you crossed paths.

“What the hell…?” you snapped, ready to slug her for staggering you backwards.

“Slut,” she snarled back, shoving past you to continue on her way.

You stood there shell-shocked. Leah never went toe-to-toe with you and you were tempted to pound her into the concrete as you protectively put a hand over your lower stomach.

Fortunately, your best friend appeared and looped her arm through yours, whispering, “Honey, haven’t you heard the latest gossip?”

You rolled your eyes. Never did you give a shit about gossip. “You know I have zero social media presence.”

She pulled you behind a corner and spoke in hushed tones, “It’s about you!”

“Me? What did I do?”

She bit her lip and told you, “Mark was in bed with Leah at Jackson’s party last night.”

Your heart sank somewhere below your chest, into some bottomless pit never to crawl back out again. “Oh.”

“And he said your name!”

The world came to a grinding halt around you.

Mark said your name while he was in bed with another woman. For all you knew he was finishing inside her and he literally called out your name.

You would think about the implications of that later, but for now, your focus was on the fact that it was becoming common knowledge on campus. Which meant word was spreading like wildfire.

“Oh god,” your friend murmured, saying your name in disbelief.

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“I see your face. It’s true. You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

There was a pause while you swallowed the lump in your throat. Eventually, you muttered, “It’s complicated.”

She tilted her head and tried to be gentle. “Sweetie, I know he’s technically not your stepbrother yet, but your parents are getting married. It’s happening.”

You seethed, “I’m well aware of that.”

Your best friend hesitated, watching you carefully and noting the emotions gathering on your face. “How long has it been going on?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer, “Since they got engaged.”

She gaped. “For Christ’s sake.”

“He made it better, okay? We feel the same way about them getting married and it just… we were gonna get into self-destructive behaviors anyway. Turns out fucking each other was the most convenient.”

It was hard to tell who you were trying to convince.

She simpered, but certainly didn’t condone it. “You’re in love with him.”

You wanted to scowl. “Am I?”

“When I said he was in bed with Leah, you were devastated.”

You shook your head and shrugged. “I just felt betrayed, that’s all.”

She placed a tender hand on your arm. “They didn’t screw. Apparently they were about to and he dropped your name. She hauled ass out of there.”

That surprised you.

You held up your phone, expecting a text or missed call from Mark and finding nothing. “I need to go,” you told your friend, bidding her goodbye and heading for your car before she could grill you for more juicy gossip.

Hopping behind the wheel, your phone rang and you immediately answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, we got your message about seeing Dr. James. You’re not due for your well woman’s exam just yet, so I was calling to see what kind of appointment you needed.”

It was your doctor’s office. You forgot you called.

Fighting back tears, you looked around the parking lot and whispered, “I… took a few home pregnancy tests and they were all positive.”

“I understand,” said the receptionist kindly. “I can work you in the day after tomorrow. She can confirm the pregnancy and discuss prenatal care or other options with you. Does that sound alright?”

Voice trembling, you replied, “Yes, that would be great. I really appreciate it.”

Meanwhile, Mark ditched the rest of his classes to drown himself in a video game. He was screwed, there was no doubt about it. He checked his phone again for the thousandth time - still no word from you.

He let his head fall back with a groan. You would have heard by now. The girls you tended to hang with were some of the mouthiest he had ever known. They would be itching to spill the tea all over you.

There was a knock at Mark’s bedroom door. He set the controller down and leapt up anxiously, expecting it to be you. God knows, he just wanted you to hold him and lie to him that everything would be alright.

When Mark opened the door, his heart sank.

There stood your father and his cheeks were the color of the fires of Hell itself.

“Mark,” he said stiffly.

“Yes, sir.” Mark held his breath, his heart beating violently against his ribs.

Your father clenched his jaw and hissed, “How long have you been having sex with my daughter?”

chapter 06 ⇤ chapter 07 ⇥ chapter 08

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[lihikainanea]

Bill and Tiger going to her side of the family’s celebration, which isn’t uncommon for him as he just kind of appears with her nowadays. Leila, Tigers cousin, now has a bf which assures Bill as she flirted with him last time. Her boyfriend seems nice, chatting a storm with Bill before he pulls him off, saying Leila wanted to venture into a threesome and asked for him. Bill thinks he might throw up, like right on the floor. He’s scared to tell Tiger as she’ll either be a hot head or get sad.

Oh Jesus. Listen, cousin Layla right? Dat bitch is CRAY. And you’re absolutely right, anything involving tiger’s family, Bill is just a given. He’ll be there, probably with a nice little plate full of his famous madeleines. And already, Bill had to have tiger repeat a few uh, promises before they even left their place.

“I promise that I will try my best not to break out in hives,” she says, as he refills her mug.

“What else?” he prompts.

“I promise that I will not fight--physically, or in any other way--immediate family members,” she says. Bill glares at her from beneath his brow.

“All family members, tiger,” he says sternly. She huffs.

“She’s barely family,” tiger snaps, “And after last time, she’s lucky she’s barely fucking dead too.”

“Tiger.”

“Fine,” she snaps, “I promise that I will not fight--physically or in any other way--ALL family members.”

“Good.”

“Unless they start shit first,” she mutters under her breath but Bill catches it.

“Tiger, no,” he taps her nose.

“Tiger yes,” she stands up defiantly, crossing her arms in front of her. All Bill does is put the coffee pot down, stand right in front of her, glare down at her.

“Tiger...maybe?” she tries again, feebly,  because Jesus he’s terrifying. Bill doesn’t move.

“Try me, kid,” he threatens, “Sit down.”

She sighs, sits back down heavily in her seat.

“We are going to have a nice dinner with your family,” he says as he takes a seat too, “A nice, uneventful dinner. Understand?”

“Why am I always the troublemaker, in every situation?” she asks petulantly.

“Because you’re you,” he deadpans, and that’s it. End of discussion. Tiger still doesn’t think it’ll be an uneventful dinner at all, but the rules are clear: she is not to start any shit. No matter how badly she’s egged on.

She helps Bill bake a cake for the event, mostly sitting up on the counter top licking the beaters, then they get ready. It’s just a low key dinner at her parents house so nothing fancy, they throw a few bottles of wine in a bag and off they go.

And it’s going...well. Both tiger and Bill are a little surprised and a whole lot relieved to see that Layla brought somebody. Bill is still a little terrified of her--not that he would ever admit it--but he sticks to the wall and/or tiger whenever Layla is in a 6 foot radius. Layla can smell fear--she thrives off of it--but she came here tonight with a plan. And sure enough when Bill is on his own for a few minutes while tiger is in the bathroom, the boyfriend lines him up. And the boyfriend seems like a pretty good dude, not overly talkative but they make conversation. Something about the dude is making Bill a little uneasy--maybe it’s the way he’s eyeing him--but Bill just figured maybe it’s a celebrity thing, he gets that a lot. But after a few minutes of conversation, he sees the dude give a very subtle thumbs up to Layla. Bill quirks a brow, but he doesn’t even get the chance to ask.

“Listen, dude, my girl and I, we kinda want to...add a little something,” the dude says, “You know, for kicks.”

Bill probably thinks this guy is trying to hustle him, or at the very least--that he wants money. Bill shifts uncomfortably.

“Oh, uh...” he starts. But the dude is talking again.

“And I know you and her had a thing,” he says, and Bill’s eyes get wide.

“We...wha--”

“And she was thinking maybe you, me and her could...have a thing,” the guy lets it hang in the air, and takes a swig of his drink.”

Bill literally does not compute. He just stares at the guy, his big eyes unblinking.

“I’ll let you think about it, man,” he says, “Don’t answer right away.”

And Bill wants to scream no, FUCK NO, absolutely FUCKING NOT, but he is legitimately stunned into fucking silence. The dudes pats him on the shoulder and returns to Layla, and by the time tiger comes back to his side, he hasn’t blinked in 5 minutes.

“You okay bud?” she asks. Bill just shakes his head like he’s trying to shake the entire conversation from his brain.

“Fine,” he says, “You ready to go soon?”

Tiger looks at him, confused.

“We haven’t even had dinner yet,” she says, “You feeling okay?”

“Oh,” Bill stammers, “Right. Uh, right. Dinner.”

“Why don’t you sit down, bud? You look a little pale. I’ll get you some water,” she ushers him to the couch, goes to the bar to get a glass of water. And Bill thinks it might just be alright--if he can just process this and then shoot them down in a very firm and decisive way, maybe tiger just...doesn’t ever have to know about this.

Until tiger passes the couple on her way to Bill. 

“Did you ask him?” she overhears Layla say none too quietly, “Is he down for a threesome with us?”

Tiger stops, clutches the glass. The hairs raise on her neck, and Bill notices just a second too late.

“Yeah,” Layla’s boyfriend replied, “He seemed not too sure.”

“Did you tell him that he didn’t like..have to touch you? He could only touch me if that makes it better,” she says.

And oh. Oh my. Bill stands immediately. The glass in tigers hand cracks into a million pieces under her grip, and with a single battle cry she’s spinning around and then she has cousin Layla's shirt half over her head, totally blinding her, and she’s shoving her into a wall.

Bill probably lets tiger pin her, lets her wind up for a hit--just because he...kind of likes it. And the kid probably needed it. And he’s a little tired of cousin Layla himself. The boyfriend tried to intervene but he gets decked solidly, Bill pushes him away and out of the danger zone of tiger’s fists. But then he swoops in behind her--pins her arms to her sides, lifts her right up. And she’s kicking like a hellcat, yelling rather graphic threats, and tiger’s dad just quietly clears a path for Bill to come through and out the door. Maybe he brings her to the shed in back, or just a quiet room, who knows--but tiger is spittin’ angry, fighting him the entire way. He throws her back on her feet and up against a wall, but a second later she’s charging and trying to get past him, still yelling. He shoves her back hard, pins her to the wall, grabs her face.

“Stop,” he commands firmly, “It’s me.”

She stops fighting for just one second, her chest heaving.

“A fucking threesome?” she shrieks, and then she’s charging at him again trying to get around him. But Bill shoves her again, pins his knee between her legs--and he just grabs her face, slamming her head back into the wall as he kisses the sweet fuck out of her.

She’s still fighting him so he just kisses her harder, rougher, until she stops. Until she just leans on the wall behind her, and gives in to it.

“That was,” he breathes against her lips when he pulls away, “So hot.”

“Bill,” she says, seething, “I am so fucking mad right now--”

“I know,” he interjects, “And that’s so hot, too.”

She shoves him but he shoves back, kissing her again roughly.

“She thinks she can just....do that? Take what’s fucking mine? Come on to you like that?” she seethes. And god, Bill is hard as a rock the more she talks. He’s loving this.

“Take what’s yours?” he asks.

“Yes. You are mine,” she grabs his shirt, pulling him down for another rough kiss, “And I’ll fucking kill her if she tries this shit with you.”

“God kid, I might let you,” he moans. And listen. LISTEN. Bill is so worked up right now that I’ll bet he just like....takes her right there in the goddamn shed. And tiger has no fucking issues with that, because she’s staking her claim too.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hey!! Can I request some fluff with Arthur (modern au) he finds out his s/o is pregnant please!! Thanks 😍

I hope this one’s fluffy enough! Sidenote: I know NOTHING about pregnancy except what very little is taught in the joke that is the American Sex Ed system. Also, I used my own family as a model for this piece (not saying everyone else’s would have this reaction). 

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You stand alone in the aisle of the store, torn. You’re scared, anxious, and somewhat embarrassed. In front of you stands the shelves, part of the pharmaceutical area. The boxes you’re looking at hold pregnancy tests. Should you get them? Part of you wonders if you’re just going through a weird hormonal phase. You’ve had them in the past, but none of them were like this. 

Over the past couple of weeks, you’ve been having weird things happen. Getting incredibly nauseous throughout random periods of the day, you’re getting tired even when you haven’t done anything. Certain parts of your body have started to become tender and even firmer. 

After Googling your symptoms, everything you found said possible pregnancy. You even took this one survey that was very interactive and asked a lot of questions. One of them was “have you been sexually active within the past month?”. Well, of course you have. You’ve been dating your boyfriend Arthur for over a year. However, that test said 93% likelihood of pregnancy. When you took the test again but lied when it asked about sexual activity, it came up with some bullshit that didn’t make sense to you. Now, the only thing you have left to do to be sure is buy one of these stupid urine tests. 

You grab a box of 12, hoping no one is around to see. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for doing this, yet you do. A result of your childhood, of course. You were raised to think that a couple who had a baby outside the bonds of marriage were idiots, harlots, uncommittable morons who were dooming any baby to a lifeload of problems. As an adult though, you’ve managed to train yourself to think differently, especially now that you aren’t very close to your religious nuts who call themselves your parents. Still, that fear is there that others will think those things of you. 

Quickly, you buy the box and stuff them into a grocery bag, ignoring that it’s a single item that you could easily carry in your hand. Still, you want to hide it. When you get to yours and Arthur’s house, you stuff the box into a cupboard where you keep your other feminine items. Arthur definitely won’t look for anything in there, he knows what’s in there. You don’t take one out though. You’re not ready. 

When Arthur comes home, he can tell something’s off. He usually works from home as he’s a rancher, but today he had to make a run to town to sell some of his goods from the one grocery store in the tiny town. He actually makes some pretty fair money and he’s never bored. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks as he tries to cuddle with you on the couch while you both watch a movie. 

“Y-yeah,” you say nervously. You’ve been dreading the thought of telling him. Never have you discussed with him his opinions on having kids outside of marriage before. 

“You sure? You look kinda… darlin’, you gettin’ sick?” 

You shake your head. “No. At least I don’t think so. Arthur, I… I need to tell you something. Please don’t be angry.” 

“Sweetheart, you know I could never be angry with you.” 

You smile, loving how he can be an extremely rough man. Hell, you remember the fight he got in. It was when you were still living in that horrible apartment complex when you and Arthur first hooked up. Your neighbor was always kind of creepy, making inappropriate comments about you when the two of you passed. One time, he’d done that when Arthur was with you and Arthur got pissed. He’d started yelling at the man, but your neighbor got right up in his face. It didn’t take long for Arthur to punch him. One hit was all it took to put your neighbor in his place, but it was only a couple of weeks after that when Arthur asked you to move in, worried about your safety. 

“Okay,” you say and sit up. You grab one of his hands and place it on your thigh. “Arthur, I… I’ve been going through some kind of weird change and I did a little research. I think I…. I…” 

A tear slides down your cheek. Arthur looks worried and he reaches up to wipe it away, his thumb gently tracing your skin. 

“It’s okay, darlin’. You can tell me anything.” 

You swallow. How the hell could this happen? You and Arthur have been so careful when you’ve had sex in the past. You’re on birth control and he’s always used protection. Then, as though the answer is painfully obvious, you remember that one day when you’d forgotten to take your pill and been in the shower. Arthur joined you and one thing led to another. 

You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Arthur… I think I’m pregnant.” 

His hand on your face freezes. Shit, shit, shit. His eyes have widened and his face is pale, his mouth in a hard line. Fuck, why did you have to tell him? Well, how could you not have though? More tears spill out of your eyes as you think that he’s going to end things right here and now. Your mind starts reeling with what you’re going to do after all this. 

Just as you’re on the brink of completely breaking down, Arthur grabs you and pulls you close, burying your face into his chest. You realize from the sound of his breathing and sniffling that he’s crying too. 

“Oh my God, darlin’. I couldn’t be happier. Were you scared to tell me?” 

You look up and rub your eye, trying to dry it. You nod. 

“Oh, darlin’. I never want ya to be scared of tellin’ me anythin’.” He kisses your head, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into his shirt. He lets you cry as much as you need to, intermixing his soft kisses by telling you everything’s going to be fine. 

Finally when you’ve calmed down, Arthur pulls you away slightly so he can look you in the face. 

“So… do you know for sure?” he asks. 

“No. I’ve only Googled my symptoms. I bought some tests but… I haven’t taken any yet.” 

“Well, come on then. Go take one. I’ll be here with ya every step, okay?” 

“Arthur, one isn’t going to do it. Sometimes you get duds.” 

“I know, but just take one. You can do more over the next couple of days. But only take them when I’m here, okay? I wanna be with you for this.” 

Great, now you feel like crying again. God, if you’d known he was going to be this sweet and supportive, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of stress. He pats your back, so you get up and go take a test. The box says to wait three minutes, so while it sits Arthur pulls you into a tight hug and sets a timer on his phone. When it goes off, you look at the label on the test. 

Two stripes. Positive. 

You sigh and put your face back into his chest. 

“Arthur, what am I gonna tell my parents?” you say, wanting to relieve more of the stress this thing is causing. 

He rubs your lower back. “We’ll cross that bridge in a bit, darlin’.”

“They’re gonna be pissed when we finally tell ‘em,” you say. “They’re probably going to pressure us to get married. I’m not telling you to try and pressure you into it, I’m just warning you.” 

He smiles and kisses your head. He doesn’t say anything because the truth is he’s been thinking about asking you to marry him anyways, but he wants it to be a surprise. Of course, the baby complicates things because he knows you’ll probably think he’s only doing it because of the baby. 

“Darlin’, don’t worry about them. You’re an adult, and so am I. They can’t make our decisions for us, and it ain’t their right to tell us how to live. That’s all you gotta say to them. And I know your mother. She’ll be excited for a grandkid.” 

You giggle. “Yeah, as long as she doesn’t ask me to move back in just so she can keep it for herself.” Your mom’s obsessed with kids, so you know that at least your parents won’t end up disowning you for having this baby. 

“Yeah well, you’re mine and so’s this.” He puts his hand on your stomach. “Ain’t no one takin’ my family away from me.” 

[15dots]

Gemina: The Illuminae Files _02

Synopsis

Moving to a space station at the edge of the galaxy was always going to be the death of Hanna’s social life. Nobody said it might actually get her killed.

The saga that began with the breakout bestseller Illuminae continues on board the space station Heimdall. Hanna is the station captain’s pampered daughter, Nik the reluctant member of a notorious crime family. Little do they know that Kady Grant and the Hypatia are headed to Heimdall, carrying news of the Kerenza invasion. 

When an elite BeiTech team invades the station, Hanna and Nik are thrown together to defend their home. Soon, Hanna and Nik aren’t just fighting for their own survival. The fate of everyone on the Hypatia - and possibly in the known universe - is in their hands. 

But relax. They’ve totally got this.

They hope. 

Quotes:

“I cannot help but wonder if the thought of saving all those lives and hopes and dreams pales in comparison to the thought of seeing him again. I wonder.” 

“▆▆ me that felt weird. Like someone threw a rainbow at my head.” 

“Patience and Silence had one beautiful daughter and her name was Vengeance.” 

“It may comfort you to know that your death while astonishingly violent, will most likely be mercifully swift.” 

“And now, born from the ashes, she’s a warrior in bloodied black.”

Welcome back to the Illuminae Files where, after reading Gemina I am left to search for my pulse and heartbeat. 

You read that right folks, I am deceased. 

But before I tell you why, I would like to put a disclaimer that this review (or whatever this is) will have spoilers. So if you haven’t read the book or Illuminae, oh well, get ready for spoilers I guess. Do not fret however, I will warn you of upcoming spoilers. You’re welcome ;). 

Also, if you haven’t read my previous Illuminae post, go check that out first or after, whatever you decide. 

Alrighty, Gemina yes, one word. 

Deceased. 

Me. I’m deceased. 

I finished this book last night and let me tell you I almost threw this book across the room. Three times. It was near midnight and I almost screamed. Bottom line, I have thoughts. Many of them. 

So buckle up kiddos, this is gonna be a long one. 

Fair warning. This book might have slightly mature themes, like drug production and use (which is very pertinent to the plot-line, iykyk), sexual innuendos, sexual tension, an annoying sexual song about lollipops... yeah you get the gist. 

Let’s start by introducing Hanna and Nik. “Highness”, as Nik like to calls her, is a daddy’s girl. If she lived in our world she would probably be asking her daddykins for dresses and bags she doesn’t even need. However, she’s a black belt. So maybe don’t make fun of her... 

Nik, on the other hand, is the typical bad boy, tall, lean, with abs, tattoos up his arms, torso and neck. Served time in juvie where he obtained such abs. But he has dimples. Dimples. He’s also, like, really funny. Like what he says...

I’ll give you an example (He’s typing this by the way): 

“So you can me all to yourself. He says winking suggestively.” 

I like him- ahem, that speaks for itself, moving on. 

This story takes place on the Heimdall space station where the Hypatia need to pass through to the Core to inform them about the Kerenza attack. Everyone is getting ready for Terra Day, getting ready to party, to get drunk, high probably as well. Hanna waits for Nik to give her her dose of drugs for ‘party favours’. Her boyfriend, Jackson, waits for her at the Atrium which is where Terra day is being held. Nik is running late because of a ‘package’ arriving at the station. Hanna gets impatient, Jackson gets nervous, Nik just gets tired because that kid sure can smoke.

Then it all goes to crap when the station gets invaded by BeiTech Industries. Remember them? The jerks who invaded Kerenza to destroy the illegal mining operation and mass murdered hundreds of people? Yeah, it’s them again with Leanne Frobisher (SPOILER), Ezra’s mum by the way, their director. 24 of their ‘goons’ are there to clean up their mess and exterminate the Hypatia and the Heimdall with a drone fleet which will hopefully, for them, eradicate witnesses of the Kerenza attack. 

People die, cry, scream. The Atrium and Entertainment Center are the areas where they are trapped in which are guarded. Hanna and Nik, on the other hand, are trapped outside with the BeiTech baddies. It is up to them to save everyone.

Like the previous book, the story is told through a dossier of files and whatnot. Their main source of communication at the start is a programme called WhisperNET then they switch to palmpads (from my knowledge is quite similar to phones) because y’know the bad guys can track em’. I have one problem, one issue that I would like to address and discuss with the publishers or whoever is responsible for the layout of this book. 

Which fool decided it was a good idea to place black text onto a near black background? I couldn’t read crap. But I don’t know if that was on purpose...

Anyways, the invasion happens and Nik and Hanna are split up from each other. Nik has a cousin, Ella, who (like Kady) is a tech wizz and tries to help the pair with opening doors and being their eye in the sky. I mean, you need a character like that in a story such as this one. 

But BeiTech are not the only monsters. There’s another problem. One that is rather... disturbing. 

SPOILERS  (it’s more gross really).

Alright, remember how I said that drugs were very pertinent to the story. Well turns out you can have drugs made from organisms ‘colloquially’ known as ‘lickers’ and it rubs me the wrong way. I was uncomfortable to say the least. And seriously, while reading the Unipedia file and descriptions of the lanima, I swear I cannot see why that had to use the word “secrete’ or ‘secretion’ so many times. 

To make matters worse, they make their entrance by slithering out of dead cows’ bodies. Just imagine the Stranger Things demogorgons in Season One in their baby forms but longer and with four heads and sharp needle like teeth crawling out of a dead cow.  Again, was I uncomfortable? Yes, yes I was.  

You see, Nik’s crime family loves making drugs from within cows’ bodies. I mean, this is some Stranger Things crap right here.

You know what makes them even more terrifying? Before killing their prey, they secrete (ugh) this fog like substance out of their skin that makes them high. Yeah, you’re high before these slime-balls kill you. So really you wouldn’t know what hit you, until the kittens and rainbows turn into black and you’re just a brainless, soulless person. They suck your face off, basically. And not in that way, you nasties. 

It was thanks to these lanima that a page scared me. Yes, a page (pg 368). What the crap did they put in this book? 

What I really enjoyed was how Hanna and Nik’s relationship progressed throughout the story. Like Kady and Ezra, they were able to joke around while under immense pressure. And to be completely honest, Hanna and Nik had higher stakes this time around. 

When they were still bantering and tip toeing around each other, I was like, “ugh, just kiss already, goodness.” I was more relieved they kissed then surprised. Honestly, it was about time they did, I almost choked on the sexual tension. 

OH and AIDAN makes a comeback and let me tell you I was so happy. AIDAN follows the movement of the lanima and it describes it in such a creepy way that shivers went down my spine. 

I do not like those lanima slime balls. Periodt. 

During the last pages of the book though, I almost had a heart attack. Can this book just let me breath? Please. For just a second. Oh my word. Just one thing after the other slapped me in the face until I questioned my sanity. Like the ending? WHAT THE FLYING CRAP WAS THAT ABOUT?

I don’t want to spoil too much for those who haven’t read the book or haven’t got the guts to do so anyway but overall, this book was just a roller coaster of a ride. No complaints. Only that the publishers and authors do something about the black on black formatting. Please, we don’t want to be squinting at pages like we need glasses (my apologies to those reading with glasses, you know the problem first hand).

Anyway, it will be a while until I can finish this series as I don’t have the third book, Obsidio. I know, sad face. But alas, I will wait after Christmas (because sales, duh) to obtain the last piece of the puzzle and hopefully I can get a break from feeling like I’m dying. But I am really enjoying this series; one of the best ones I’ve read in a while!

So, until next time. I might do small book reviews here and there so that’s good at least. So stay tuned kiddos and Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Let me know how this book treated you. Or don’t. Depends on what you decide.