#it probably would have been better if i was doing chapter 13 instead so i could do a cool dramatic murderchapter on the anniversary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lookwhatitcost · 2 months

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How can you love me? Chapter 1: What the fuck is going on?

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x !OFC

Warnings!: mentions of sex, slight drinking, Mentions of self harm, Noah is just a warning himself, let me know if I need to add more!

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Noah and Adriana both rockstar's, both caring, both don't really believe in love.

They met as children in a park in Richmond, since Noah helped Adriana with a scrape on her knee that day, they'd been inseparable. Even though they do live together and have known each other for almost 20 years they've never even had the thought of being each others other, being their partner, loving each other unconditionally, except as friends of course. Even though they were each others first everything, first friend, first kiss, first time, first home, they would never admit their love for each other because it would ruin their friendship, and especially not now that Adriana is not looking for love and, Noah is in love with his girlfriend Chelsea, right?

Will they let each other break their glass houses or will they stay eternally quiet?

May 13 2020 (Adriana's POV)

"Noah where the fuck are you!"

I was out of breath from running after him after he shot me like 20 times with a fucking nerf gun! I was getting payback right, now.

I was trying to be as quiet as possible until I reached my room, of course the motherfucker would be here right? I was creeping through my room, I looked under my be-

"HOLY SHIT NOAH PUT ME DOWN!"

He was carrying me and maybe I had no way out.

I knew what his next move was, he was going to throw me on the bed and try to attack me, so I did what I first thought of, I hooked my leg around his waist and I basically threw myself on the ground, but if I was going down he was coming with me. I'm pretty sure everyone heard the loud BOOM downstairs but at least this time I beat Noah to attacking me.

Of course it hurt a little but I'll get over it.

I stood up and fixed my hair and clothes.

"Aughhhh why the fuck would you do that adri?" Noah said in pain

I just giggled while looking at the 6 foot 3 giant on the ground groaning.

"come on I'll help you get up dumbass."

I grabbed his hand and helped him get off the floor, we were laughing until we heard footsteps coming upstairs, me and Noah scrambled to the bed trying to look as calm and normal as possible, with me finding my phone on the floor and picking it up and Noah quickly snatching a blanket off of my bed and pretending he was tired.

"Did you guys finally kill each other this time?" Jolly asked as he walked into my room.

"What do you mean? We weren't doing anything, we're just here chilling" Noah falsely explained. Jolly just rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, me and Noah looked at each other and started laughing until our ribs were tired.

"NOAH YOU'RE PHONE IS RINGING AND ITS GETTING FUCKING IRRITATING" jolly yelled clearly irritated of our bullshit.

"WHO IS IT?"

"THE GIRL YOU LIKE TO FUCK A LOT"

"Oh shit its Chelsea let me go get that" Noah said as he panicked running out of the room to his room, I obviously also left the room but I went to bother jolly instead.

'hey jolly can I ask you something?' 'What do you need now adri' he said with a fake annoyed tone. ' its nothing serious, I was going to ask if you could make dinner tonight because me and Noah were going to be in his room gaming.'

"well actually.." I hear from behind me. 'What happened noah?'

"um look I'm gonna visit Chelsea at her house so I probably won't be here until very later on."

"oh ok yeah that's fine, are you going to be here for dinner or do we eat without you?"

"Nah adri I think he'll be eating something better than what we're having" jolly said in jokingly matter. 'Oh shut the fuck up jolly do I ever make fun of you when you bring girls home?' Noah said clearly rushed and irritated.

"yes actually you do." Jolly said in a matter fact tone.

"No I dont!"

"YES YOU DO last time I brought a girl home you literally said to he-"

"OH MY GOD GUYS, just shut the fuck up and stop acting like 17 year old boys, noah, are you going to be here for dinner or not." I say sternly. 'No I don't think so bu-' ' okay then I'll make dinner for me and the guys and you go visit Chels ok?'

"Um ok..." He stood like I just gave him a lecture. 'Cool, oh and can you give Chelsea the dress that I told her I would gift her please?' I asked as I remembered the promise that I made her.

"Yeah sure but, I could try to get here before dinner so we can all eat togeth-"

"Noah." I cut him off

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and go visit your girlfriend."

"Ok"

Time skip.

I was cooking dinner for me and the guys, listening to music while they were upstairs in their room. I was cooking spaghetti with meatballs and also making a salad on the side. I was doing the usual, chopping up vegetables, using the knife as a mic, which I know is dangerous but its fine.

"WHO THE FUCK IS BLASTING SUGAR BY SLEEP TOKEN RIGHT NOW!?!" I hear and know right away who it is.

Jesse.

"Jesse shut up I wasn't the one screaming the lyrics to Taylor Swift's You belong with me 2 days ago."

"you have no right to say that when you know its quality music." He said as he stood in front of me.

"yeah yeah yeah, I will admit it is amazing music."

"Hey do you need help with anything there?" He said. 'Oh yeah please, um could you help me chop those vegetables while I make the sauce?' I say as I'm pointing to the needed vegetables.

"Okay yeah, oh my god did you see the news?" Jesse said beaming with excitement. 'No what news?'

"Okay so do you remember whe-"

SLAM!

What the fuck who's slamming doors right now?

Me and Jesse stood there wondering who walked through the door like he fucking could do whatever he wants

"Noah"?

he passed through the kitchen and stood right in front of us with his eyes bloodshot and puffy as if he'd been crying for hours.

"If Chelsea calls any of you and asks for me, don't tell her anything. Got it?" Noah said as he walked and reached for the alcohol cabinets.

Now what the fuck is going on?

Noah stormed out of the kitchen with a bottle of tequila to go to what I imagine would be his room. 'WAIT, DID SHE NOT CUM?' Jesse called after Noah probably trying to get him to laugh, 'JESSE! Why the fuck would you say that to him can't you see he's pissed?' Jesse looked at me while trying to hold in his laugh.

I was wondering what had happened if he left so happy that he was going to see her and even though Jesse went a little too far with the comment he was right he was also happy because he was probably going to have sex with his girl. I needed to figure out what happened to noah, I mean I'm pretty sure I could fix this, I was the one who introduced them to each other.

"Jesse can you finish this while I try to see what happened to him?"

"sure thing."

I walked in to Noah's dimly lit room excepting him to tell me to 'FUCK OFF!' Like he always does, but when I spot him on the edge of his bed he just looks at me and takes a swig of the tequila.

"Noah what the fuck was that out there?"

"Nothing, why?" He said in a monotone voice. 'You want some?' He asked as he was putting his arm out to hand me the bottle.

"No, Noah what happened with Chelsea? Did you guys fight? Or was it something else?"

He just sat there with his head down, and I thought he wasn't crying until I saw a tear glisten down his face. I sat on the edge of the bed with him and put my hand on his back, rubbing it in circular motions, just like did THAT night.

Noah took yet another gulp of the drink and sighed.

"She broke up with me."

What?

"Noah what do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, she broke up with me just like that." He said clearly trying to keep his anger inside. 'oh, Noah I'm so sorry. Do you know why she did that?'. Noah chuckled before he said.

"No, I got to her place and when I said hi to her she asked me if we could talk, when we sat down she just said it, no sugarcoats, she just said, I wanna break up."

Oh. My. God.

"well maybe she was just confused, I mean, you guys have been together for 2 years, that's a lot of commitment and maybe she was just nervous."

"nah, its fine she's just like any other girl who's dated me, they spend time making me fall in love just so then they can throw me away like some type of garbage."

I understand how rough it is for him, I mean the last relationship he got into before Chelsea made him almost commit suicide when they broke up, she was cheating on him with two guys so the night he found out, I saw him in locked in his bathroom gripping a piece of glass in his hand from the mirror, thank god I found him before he did anything, but I understood him especially since I already had tried to do that before, so I guess you could say I was an expert.

"Noah, please don't say that, look lets do this, you stop drinking so the hangover isn't as bad in the morning, I will try and call Chelsea tonight and if she doesn't pick up I'll call her tomorrow, and you can get some rest in the meantime ok?" I said as I gently took the bottle from his hands and stood up.

"I guess, sure." He said still looking depressed.

"Okay, well goodnight Noah I'll tell you if anything happens tomorrow."

I gave him a kiss on the forehead and heard him say a quiet 'thank you'.

When I say I keep my promises, I'm not joking.

I called Chelsea about 50 times on my phone, on Noah's phone, on jolly's phone, and the list goes on and on. I was just trying to figure out what happened even though yesterday her and Noah were smitten over each other, calling each other every five minutes, which at some point did get a little irritating but it was fine. I sorta feel guilty because I introduced them to each other and I was the one who told chels that she should date noah, obviously she had a crush on Noah first, who doesn't? I mean, even I had a small crush on Noah when we were teenagers, but that passed after a while. I could feel the frustration creeping up my body as I tried calling Chelsea for the 52 time in a row. I let out a frustrated sigh, 'what the fuck do I do now?'

"Don't stress about it adri, at this point she's not gonna talk to anyone." Noah says behind me leaning against the bedroom door with only his gray sweats on,

"Noah? What are you doing up? I thought you were asleep."

"nah I couldn't sleep, plus I didn't want to anyway" he waves it off as if I can't see the tired and sadness in his eyes. 'uh huh totally, because you hate sleeping.' I say sarcastically. 'Where are the other guys?'

"ah shut it, the guys are all asleep." he says then looks at my phone in my hand, then grabs my hand gently and holds it up in front of him. 'How many times have you called her?'

"52 times" I whisper embarrassed. 'what? I couldn't hear you.'

"52 times." I say clearer. 'WHAT. You called her 52 times!?!'

"Yeah... Look I'm sorry but I just don't like seeing you like this plus I also have to check up on her, remember she's also my friend." I say trying to justify my devotion. 'Look, I appreciate that but at this point please, just give up.'

I knew what I was about to do, I was going to rant.

"no Noah I know you love her and I at least want you two to talk so you guys can at least see what happe-"

What. The. Fuck. Is. He. Doing.

I felt his soft lips lightly touch mine testing the waters, until he kissed me... He took my face in his hands and he kissed me. The kiss felt soft, he was kissing me as if I were fragile, I kissed him back and put my arms around his torso feeling as if this was a piece of heaven. He pulled back, eyes soft, and lips rosy pink from kissing me.

What the fuck, this man was heartbroken an hour ago why is he kissing me now?

"Noah?" I said confused. 'Yeah?"

"What the hell was that for?" I said thinking he wasn't in his right headspace. 'Nothing. I knew you were gonna rant so I needed to shut you up in a kind way.' He said in a mocking way.

We just stood there in front of eachother, I swear we were having a secret eye contest.

"Well adri um I'm gonna head to bed, ok? Goodnight." He said giving me one last peck on my mouth.

This guy is out of his mind.

He walked out of my room like if nothing happened. until he turned around and quickly came in to my room just to say.

"sweet dreams angel." He said adding a wink at the end.

I was shocked, and asking myself so many questions.

Why would he do that?

Is he drunk?

Was he actually trying to shut me up?

I didn't know what happened. What I did know is that, I ended up with an aching need that night, so lets just say my vibrator was dead by the time I went to sleep.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #heavy metal #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens band #noahsebastian #badomens #noah sebastian x reader

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fortheloveofwonderland · 29 days

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Rusty | Chapter 13 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - Luke finds himself getting acquainted with one of Bandera’s own. When you find a bundle of gifts on Spencer’s front porch, you hatch a plan.

A/N - this chapter kinda came out of left field but I couldn’t leave Luke heart broken so this happened. There are some Spencer x reader snippets but this chapter is very Luke-centric.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - drinking, hangovers, allusions to sex, hints of oral (m receiving), one night stands, needy Spencer, whiny Spencer, swearing, titty sucking, handjob, fingering, ending of this one is pretty angsty.

WC - 6k

Chapter 13 - Friends in Low Places

Luke Alvez was a man of few words, but no fewer were ever spoken from his mouth than that morning as he sat in the little corner booth in Bandera’s lone cafe.

Between sips of bitter coffee from the chipped mug nothing but awkward silence petered around them. Luke couldn’t even bring himself to make eye contact with the other person opposite him. Instead his gaze flitted between his mug and the old clock on the wall, whilst he wondered how long it was polite of him to stay.

His temples throbbed and the coffee didn’t go anyway to stem the taste of that goddamn home brewed whiskey on his tongue.

To say he’d made an error in judgement last night was underselling his stupidity.

Images of the night before flashed in his mind's eyes like a broken movie reel. After leaving Spencer’s lodge he’d needed to take the edge off and found himself in the 11th Street Bar.

The old bar keep had plied him with his homemade whiskey which was quite possibly the strongest substance that had ever passed by Luke’s lips.

It didn’t stop him drinking it, shot after shot, until he was bleary eyed and stumbling on his feet.

When he’d stepped out into the cool night air he’d almost fallen down the high curb, would have landed right on his face if it wasn’t for a strong set of arms steadying him.

“Whoa there partner, careful as ya go.” The voice belonging to the man who caught him laughed.

“Oh Jesus, I’m so sorry. I, uh, probably overdid it a little.”

“No kidding, Cole’s home brew’ll do that.”

There was something alluring about the tall, broad cowboy. Perhaps it was the alcohol in his system. Possibly it was because he was painfully lonely and his heart had taken a beating upon finding out Spencer had moved on.

Whatever it was, it led to him happily going home with the man. He knew, even in his drunken state, that it was a bad idea. He knew using some stranger for sex would not make him feel better in the way he wanted.

Yet he did it anyway.

“You ain’t from around here, are ya?” The man asked him, smiling at Luke.

“Is it that obvious?” Luke chuckled.

“I just never forget a handsome face, is all.”

“Oh.” Luke rubbed his neck. “Oh.”

“What’s ya name?” The man proffered a large hand for which Luke shook.

“L-Luke.”

“Mighty strong name, Luke.” He held onto Luke’s hand slightly longer than a normal hand shake. “I’m Grant, it's nice to meet you.”

Grant, as it turned out, lived very close to the bar. Closer than the hotel Luke planned on staying at and insisted it wasn’t a bother for Luke to stay the night. Honestly Luke was a little lost in Grant’s eyes at this point and probably would have agreed to anything.

Grant offered him a strong mug of coffee upon arrival at his ranch. He wasn’t sure what kind of magic it was sprinkled with but it did seem to help him sober up. But maybe not sober enough.

It was Luke who had made the first move. It had been uncoordinated and unplanned. One minute Grant was talking and the next Luke practically flung himself forward on the couch and kissed him.

“Whoa there cowboy,” Grant chuckled lightly, guiding Luke back by his shoulders. “You sure you’re sober enough to be making these kinds of decisions?”

“I know what I’m doing.” Luke spoke, surprisingly coherently. “I know that I want this.”

And at the time he’d meant it, he did want this. He didn’t realise how he would come to regret it later. But Luke had been unintentionally celibate for too long, not quite getting over the hump of his first time post-Spencer.

Maybe if he could allow himself to take that step, healing his broken heart might not be so difficult.

He couldn’t deny even now in the morning light that it had been an amazing night. Grant was unfathomably good in bed, with his hands, with his mouth. Luke had so many orgasms he still felt a little overstimulated this morning.

It probably didn’t help matters that he’d hurriedly agreed to a shared shower this morning in which Grant awarded him release two more times whilst on his knees.

He hadn’t thought of Spencer last night, but he had however succumbed to thoughts of him this morning. Whilst Grant fellated him in the shower, twice, Luke couldn’t help the way his mind raced over a similar scenario years ago, right before Spencer's arrest, before performing such acts became impossible for him.

Luke didn’t know why Grant had insisted on taking him for coffee this morning but now here they were, in awkward silence whilst they both tried to get out of this situation unscathed.

“I, uh,” Luke cleared his throat. “Last night was fun but I’m heading back to DC later today.”

“Wasn’t expecting nothin’ from ya.” Grant chuckled. “I know a one night stand when I see one. Just doing the polite thing, taking you for breakfast.”

“Right,” Luke nodded, gripping his mug. “I’m sorry, I don’t do this very often.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Grant smirked. “It’s fine, don’t you worry about me. I knew that dog weren’t gonna hunt.”

“Right.” Luke frowned as the saying went over his head.

“I gotta split anyway. It was nice to meet you Luke.” Grant slid out from the booth and got to his feet, picking up his stetson and placing it back on top of his head.

“Yeah, uh, you too.” Luke stayed seated, offering a meek smile to the man.

Grant threw a couple of bills down on the table before turning on the heels of his boots. Luke watched him saunter away, open the cafe door and step outside into the sunshine. Once he was alone, Luke fell back against the chair and rubbed his hands over his face at his own stupidity. You don’t fight fire with fire, but that’s exactly what he’d tried to do.

He closed his eyes and sat perfectly still, his hangover coupled with the aches and gripes from an extreme amount of physical activity encompassing his entire body. He didn’t need to be back at Quantico until tomorrow.

Perhaps he’d get a room and sleep for a few hours, maybe try and see Spencer again when he felt less dizzy and catch a late flight back to Virginia tonight. But obviously the universe had other plans as his phone started to ring.

He grumbled and sat back up, freeing the device from his pocket and groaning at her name flashing on the screen. He sucked in a deep breath before answering it and putting it to his ear.

“Hey Garcia,” he tried to hide his lack of sleep from his voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry to have to do this but there have been some developments, you’re needed back at Quantico ASAP.” She did sound sorry, which was surprising coming from her.

“Right, fine.” He didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

“I’m sorry, I know you really wanted to see boy wonder, I wanted you to see him too.” She was pouting, he could hear it over the phone.

He was silent for a moment or two, staring back at the clock on the wall. He sighed deeply and rubbed his eye with his free hand.

“I did see him. Last night. I couldn’t wait until this morning.” He admitted, knowing she would get the information out of him one way or another.

“Ohemgee, Newbie! Way to bury the leash!” She screeched, causing Luke to grimace at the way his head pounded. “How is he? What did you talk about? Is he okay out there all on his own? Gosh I do worry about that boy all alone. He can’t cook, I bet he’s lost weight, has he lost weight? Without my constant force feeding him cookies I bet he’s lost weight.”

He waited for her to exhaust her line of questioning before he spoke again, sounding incredibly sorry for himself.

“He’s…he’s moved on.” Luke grumbled.

“Moved on? He’s not in Bandera anymore?” Garcia sounded confused.

“No, that's not what I meant.” Luke sighed again, not really wanting to have to spell this out. “He’s moved on…with someone else. I found him in bed with a woman.” He was met by a wave of silence and he knew why. “I’m on speaker aren’t I?”

“Uh, yeah.” Penelope sounded a little guilty. You’ve got Jayje and Em here too.”

“A heads up in the future would be nice.” Luke downed the coffee and forced himself to his feet.

“Sorry, Luke.” Emily’s voice carried down the phone as Luke headed towards the door.

“I had no idea he’d met someone.” JJ added.

“Yeah well, I think it’s been a long time since any of us really knew him.” He threw open the door and squinted at the assault of sunlight when he stepped outside.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” Penelope prefaced and Luke held his breath. “And don’t get me wrong, as much as you grate on me Newbie, I do want you to be happy. That being said, is it wrong of me for wanting the same for Reid?”

Luke huffed down the steps of the cafe towards his SUV.

“No, of course it isn’t.” He agreed. “I want him to be happy too. A part of me is glad that he’s not completely on his own here but it doesn’t stop me wishing that he could have found that happiness with me. Is this what closure is like, Prentiss?”

In Penelope’s bat cave, she and JJ looked at Emily with pinched brows, not having been privy to her conversation with Luke at the San Antonio PD.

“Unfortunately so.” Emily ignored them. “It’s probably better that you know rather than always wondering. You might finally be able to close that book now.”

“I’m, uh, I’m just heading to my car, Garcia can you get me on the next flight back to Virginia?” He changed the subject as he unlocked the SUV and slid inside.

“Of course.” She agreed, without her usual flare. “I’ll have the details sent right over.”

“Thanks. Guess I’ll see you all soon.” He sighed once again.

“Alvez, wait a second.” Emily’s voice sounded again.

There was shuffling in which he ascertained she had taken him off of speaker and left the room.

“Yeah Prentiss?”

“I know this is hard, but don’t let this destroy you. I love Spencer just as much as anyone but he is not known for dealing with his problems in a healthy way. Don’t let him break you. You can do better.”

Luke felt tears sting his eyes and he closed them to stop them falling. He leant back against the driver’s seat.

“Thanks, Em. I’ll try.” He mumbled.

“I mean you’re already trying right?” Emily’s voice had a hint of amusement to it. “What was his name?”

Luke’s eyes shot back open and he stared down at his phone in his hand with a deep frown.

“Excuse me?”

“I might have been keeping tabs on you, a part of me didn’t think you’d make it to Reid’s ranch.” She was smiling, he could hear it in her voice. “I checked your GPS coordinates a few times and you never made it to the hotel.”

Luke shook his head as a dry chuckle left his lips. He wasn’t even surprised.

“His name's Grant, I met him at a bar last night.” Luke confessed.

“Hmm, sounds like it could be promising.” Emily was walking, he could hear her footsteps.

“It was a one night stand. And anyway, we live like two thousand miles apart.” He couldn’t help the way he thought that Spencer would know the exact mileage.

“Distance is nothing.” Emily clucked. “You had a good time, yes?”

“Hmm,” Luke nodded, feeling a pleasurable coiling in his stomach when he thought of last night.

“Sometimes when one story ends, another begins.” She mused. “All I’m saying is, would it be the worst thing in the world if you stayed in touch?”

Luke closed his eyes again, picturing the tall, strong cowboy and feeling a shiver pass up his spine. It would not be the worst thing, far from it.

“I gotta go.” He replied. “Got a couple of things I need to take care of before I head back.”

“Okay,” the amusement danced in her tone. “Good luck with that.”

Luke hung up the phone and started the engine. And as if on muscle memory, he started in the direction of Grant’s ranch.

***

You found yourself alone in bed when you woke up the next morning. For a few moments you felt lighter than air. All of your secrets were out in the open, you and Spencer now knew each other on the deepest level. He’d told you he loved you, things were looking up.

But why were you alone?

And then the panic set in. You lept out of bed and hurriedly threw your clothes back on as your heart thundered inside of your chest. Spencer was turning you in. He was on the phone to Luke getting him back here to have you arrested.

You needed to run.

Your panic was thankfully short lived. Upon rushing out of the bedroom you found a breakfast display much like that he’d left on your doorstep a while ago. A bowl of cereal, a fresh mug of lemon and honey tea and a glass of OJ. This one also had a note to accompany it in his near illegible writing.

I didn’t want to wake you because you looked so peaceful. I’ll be up at the field when you’re awake. Take your time, have breakfast, take a shower or have a bath or something. I’ll always be close by.

Oh and by the way, I love you.

Your heart soared inside your chest and a smile stretched across your face as you read the words over and over again in your head. You felt a small pang of guilt of thinking even for a second he would turn his back on you.

You ate the cereal and drank the tea and orange juice before making your way back through to the bathroom. Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirrored cabinet you spotted the distinctive red blotchy bruise on the front of your throat from Spencer’s lip sucking on your flesh. It made a warmth spread throughout your body at the mere thought.

You brushed your fingers over it a few times, slightly light headed by the way he had marked you. Eventually you turned away and stripped back out of your clothes before hopping in the shower, allowing the water to cleanse you the way your confessions last night had.

***

Spencer had awoken early, as was the norm for him, and quietly slipped out of bed so as not to disturb you. He showered and washed his hair, one of the harder tasks when only having the use of one hand, and played all the events of the past twelve hours over in his head.

Having Luke show up here could have been Spencer’s unravelling. If Luke had arrived here prior to Spencer meeting you, the events could have transpired a lot differently.

Despite it all, Spencer did still love Luke, there was no denying that even from himself. Before you, Luke was Spencer’s only real tangible love. Of course there had been Maeve but there was always a distance between them, he was never able to love her up close.

Spencer had loved Luke in all the ways he’d ever heard talked about. It was a story book kind of love, the likes of which Spencer never expected to find. Luke was supposed to be the end of Spencer’s story and even sometimes still he struggled to really comprehend that it was over.

Him showing up here could have been detrimental to Spencer’s mental health. If he hadn’t been for you.

He knew already, in spite of how little time he’d known you, that you were the big love of his life. And Luke somehow knew it too.

“You were the love of my life.”

“I know.”

“But I wasn’t yours.”

For the last two years Spencer hadn’t been able to let himself consider the way in which his departure hurt Luke. He only had the capacity to focus on his own well-being.

Maybe that was selfish of him. He disappeared without a goodbye to anyone, he owed Luke a goodbye at the very least.

But Spencer hadn’t thought about the hurt that would cause, could only reconcile himself with his own need to escape. Seeing Luke made him acutely aware of just how much pain his absence had caused.

“I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot.”

In truth Spencer had been pining, just not for Luke. Spencer had been pining for his old life, perhaps to a degree that included his ex boyfriend. He ached to go back to the time before prison, before he made the decision to go to Mexico. He yearned to do it over, to at the very least tell someone of his plans and not try and go it alone.

But if he hadn’t gone to Mexico, hadn’t gotten arrested and suffered at the hands of his inmates driving him to leave his former life behind he wouldn’t have ended up in Bandera. He wouldn’t have had that run in with Rusty which left him injured at the side of the road.

He would never have met you.

Was he really so in love with you that he would go through all that trauma again in another life if it meant it led to you? That didn’t seem like a rabbit hole that needed traversing and so he cast it from his mind.

He finished showering and dressed in clean jeans, a grey t-shirt and threw a black flannel shirt over the top while you slept. He ate a bowl of cereal and drank a mug of tea, took his new meds and left you breakfast on the counter before heading out to the stable.

He took the horses one by one up the field, leaving Rusty for last. He practically had to wrestle her bridle on her as she was still belligerent towards him. She huffed and stomped her hooves aggressively but Spencer was never one to be beaten.

Eventually he managed to get the thing over her head and lead her out to join the others. Once free to roam she was quick to Willow’s side. Since the trip to Medina Lake the two mares had been inseparable. Spencer had no idea what had transpired to make the two horses become friends but he wished Rusty would warm up to him the way she had his steed.

It occurred to him then that he would probably have to give this place up. With you on the run and on Luke’s radar there was no way the two of you could stay here. Perhaps you could take Willow and Rusty, but Franklin and Wilbur and his cattle wouldn’t be able to follow. Maybe he’d ask around town if anyone was looking to acquire more land and animals to go with it.

The thought made him a little wistful. He liked his ranch, he liked this life. It had been alien to him at first but in time it had become so beautifully ordinary. Perhaps the two of you could find another ranch somewhere, start over together somewhere Luke or Phil would never find you.

He swallowed that thought down, not wanting to ruin what could be one of his last days here by getting sentimental. He leaned against the fence and watched the horses as they grazed and interacted with one another.

He would surely miss this little slice of paradise.

***

Luke emerged from Grant’s ranch house little over an hour later, his hangover a long distant memory. As he stepped out onto the large porch, he actually had a smile on his face.

“Can’t lie to ya, I’m plumb grateful you decided to come back up here.” Grant smiled at him in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of sinfully tight fitting boxers.

Luke felt himself blushing, something he rarely ever did as he took a last look at the strong body leaning against the door jamb.

Grant’s muscles had muscles, every inch of him sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t Luke's usual type, far from it, but there was something so devilishly alluring about the slightly imposing cowboy.

And it didn’t hurt that it was some of the best sex he’d ever had in his life.

“Me too.” Luke confessed, his cheeks burning red.

“Mighty shame you gotta mosey on back up to the city.” Grant smiled a little sadly at him.

“Yeah, it is.” Luke agreed. “I actually came here to ask for your number, maybe? If there’s any chance you’d wanna stay in touch? I know we live really far apart but, uh, I think that I might…quite like you.”

His cheeks were even brighter after his admittance and Grant’s smile grew. He reached out and cupped Luke’s jaw in his hand, drawing him closer so he could kiss him.

“You are one tall drink of ice tea, Luke Alvez.” Grant mumbled against his lips. “And I quite like you too. Gimme ya phone.”

Luke nodded dumbly and pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Grant. Grant was quick to input his number into the device and hand it back to him.

“T-thanks.” Luke stuttered.

“You know I always had a hankering for more than this.” Grant sighed wistfully, casting an open palm across his land. “I was born and raised on this ranch. After my folks died they left this place to me. Never chose this life, it chose me. Always thought I’d get out of the south one day, move to some big city, ya know? New York, LA…maybe even DC. Unless that idea scares ya.”

“Why would it…why would it scare me?” Luke swallowed thickly at the implication.

“You seem like the jumpy sort.” Grant winked at him.

Luke sucked in a really deep breath before slowly exhaling. He briefly checked his watch, he was running out time to make his flight and he still had one more stop to make. But he couldn’t pull himself away.

“I was still processing an old break up. It ended suddenly and I never got any closure. But I think I have now, I think I’m ready to move on.” Luke spoke the words out loud and he truly meant them.

“Well that just makes me wanna slap my mama.” Grant smiled sweetly at him despite Luke’s obvious confusion at his sentiment. “I guess it might be high time for me to reconsider city life. New York, LA…”

“Or DC.” Luke finished him for him.

“Or DC.” Grant nodded, drawing him in for another kiss.

Luke allowed himself another few moments to be swallowed up by this delicious cowboy before he regretfully had to peel himself away before he missed his flight back home. Although in all honesty, he didn’t think that would have been the worst thing in the world.

***

You were finishing your tea at the kitchen counter when you heard footsteps on the gravel outside. You smiled to yourself, turning eagerly in your chair, ready to embrace Spencer upon his arrival.

But it wasn’t Spencer you saw heading towards the lodge.

You quickly slipped off the stool to the floor, scrabbling over to the corner you’d inhabited last night while Spencer and Luke had it out. You pulled your knees to your chest, trembling slightly as Luke Alvez’s heavy footsteps climbed the stairs.

A moment later there was a knock on the door. You held your breath.

Had you gotten Spencer’s affections all wrong? Was he simply placating you, distracting you so he could call Luke back here? It was imminent. Any minute now he would break down that door and slap his cuffs on your wrists before hauling your ass back to prison.

How could you have been so naive?

“Spencer?” Luke’s voice carried through the door as he knocked again. “You here, man?”

You hugged your legs, breathing as shallowly as possible in the hopes he might not realise you were there. If he went looking for Spencer you could quickly make a getaway.

“Look I don’t know if you’re ignoring me or you just don’t wanna talk to me but, uh…” he cleared his throat. “We didn’t forget your birthday. Penelope had a load of gifts FedEx’d out here and she made me promise you’d get them. You know she’d never forgive me if I came home with them. Guess I’ll just leave them here. Happy birthday for Friday.”

You heard a shuffling and soon after the footsteps took to the stairs again. You dared to get to your feet, crouching down below the window and peaking outside.

The back of Luke’s head retreated back towards a dark SUV. You watched as he slipped inside of it and then the engine started. It wasn’t long before he was pulling away.

You frowned to yourself, standing up to your full height. So Spencer hadn’t called him, hadn’t turned you in?

You exhaled a shaky breath and crept to the door. It could have been a trap but you didn’t think it was. Upon opening the door you saw a pile of gifts wrapped with sparkly bows and bright wrapping paper. On top was a stack of cards.

Still frowning, you gathered them all up and carried them to the counter. Varying handwriting adorned the multi coloured envelopes, addressed to the likes of Reid, Boy Wonder, Doc and Spence.

You shook your head. So there was one thing Spencer had kept from you, his birthday.

You made the decision to hide the gifts away, scurrying up to your lodge and stuffing them away in a cupboard.

You wanted to do something nice for Spencer, you owed him after everything he’d done for you. Today was Wednesday, Friday was two days away, you were sure you could come up with something before then. You would just have to work fast to put the wheels into motion.

***

“Remind me again why I can’t come with you?” Spencer’s brows pinched together as he looked up at you with a pout from the couch.

“Is it really such a big deal? I just want to go on my own.” You rolled your eyes. He was so persistent.

You needed to go into town and buy some supplies for the small birthday celebration you were planning for him. Yesterday had been busy with cleaning out the stables and barn and you hadn’t had a second alone to contemplate his birthday. It was now Thursday and you just needed to get away from him for an hour or so, but he was being petulant.

“I don’t like the idea of you going into town on your own.” He grumbled.

“Why, I’ve done it before? And we both know I can handle myself.” You scoffed.

“I…those men at the bar, the way they looked at you…I didn’t like it.” His cheeks flushed red.

You couldn’t help but smile and you sidled closer to him, lowering yourself to sit on his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Spence, are you jealous?” You smirked at him.

“Yes,” he nodded frantically. “With good reason too, or have you forgotten about making out with Grant?”

“That was different.” You ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You were adamant we were just friends. I’m fairly certain we’re more than that now. I would never cheat on you Spencer, you understand that right?”

“Hmm,” he hummed at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “Might need a little convincing.”

You chuckled at his whiny words, his lips pouting, desperate to feel yours on his. You relented and offered him a chaste kiss before pulling back.

“That’s your lot.” You went to stand but suddenly Spencer’s hand was round your waist, holding you down.

“No, no. Not enough. Not convinced.” He clung to you.

“Is someone a needy boy today?” You laughed, giving him another soft kiss.

“Hmm,” he nodded. “So needy.”

You allowed him another kiss and this time his hand flew to the back of your head to keep you close. His tongue was parting your lips within a matter of seconds. You couldn’t pull yourself away even if you wanted to, the ferocity of the kiss rendering you instantly dumb.

He pulled you properly into his lap so you were straddling his thighs, before his good hand disappeared under your shirt and his fingers brushed across the skin of your back.

“Spencer,” you mumbled into his lips. “I need to go out.”

“You don’t need to go anywhere. What you need to do is get rid of some of these clothes.”

“Spencer,” your tone was warning.

“Whatever you so desperately need to go out for can wait, surely?” His fingers toyed with your bra clasp beneath your shirt.

“If you hadn’t been so tired last night and fallen asleep before I’d even brushed my teeth, you could have gotten some then.” You pulled back from his lips and poked the tip of his nose with your index finger.

“Are you really going to turn me down? When I could freak out at any second, you have to take these good moments when they come, Y/N.” He allowed himself to joke, joking helped him cope.

Your eyes flit down towards his crotch and the bulge in his slacks. The sight was enough for you to shudder and he knew he had you.

You cupped his jaw in your hand, rubbing your fingers into his ever growing stubble. He looked at you through large doe eyes.

“You are so needy today.” You clucked. “What has gotten into you?”

“I have no idea.” Spencer shook his head. “But can we just go with it?”

“What exactly do you want, Doctor Reid?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and he hissed.

“Fuck, it’s so hot when you say that.” He pulled you back to kiss you again. “T-touch me? P-please?”

You moaned into his mouth and grinded against his lap. Your hands wandered down the fabric of his t-shirt until you came to the hem.

He sat forward so you could lift it over his head, tossing it aside before you helped him remove your own. His fingers were soon back on your bra clasp and he popped it open expertly, practically ripping the garment from your body.

You sat back, looking at him with a smile. His eyes were unashamedly on your chest.

“Don’t just stare, Doctor.” You scoffed, reaching into his lap and palming him through his slacks.

He bucked into your hand with a growl at the same time as he bowed his head, hurriedly taking your nipple into his mouth.

You closed your eyes as his tongue lapped over your hardened nipple. You stroked him through his pants whilst working the button.

Once you had them open you reached straight into his boxers and tugged his shaft free of its confines. He hissed again, teeth grazing against your nipple.

He sat back as you started to stroke him, returning the favour and starting to unbutton your own pants. Much like you he didn’t bother removing them and instead dove his hand straight inside your panties.

You fisted his shaft at the sensation of his finger brushing over your clit. You kept your eyes on each other firmly.

“God I love you,” he panted, rolling his hips into your hand.

“I love you too, Doctor.” You moaned the last word as he pressed against your swollen bud. “And fuck I love those fingers.”

“I feel the same about your hand.” He nodded.

A second finger joined his first, using them both in tandem to rub circles on your clit. You puffed out a heavy breath, causing your breasts to bounce and Spencer’s gaze faltered to them.

“Good god I missed boobs. You have no idea. I am such a boob man.” He was leaning closer again and taking your nipple in his mouth once more.

You moaned and started to increase your speed on his cock, his own fingers working their magic between your legs.

You rocked back and forth on his hand whilst he similarly bucked into your own. He was frantically sucking your nipple, intent on bringing you as much pleasure as physically possible.

It really didn’t take either of you long to orgasm. Somehow the two of you knew each other's bodies so well already that it was such a simple thing for you both to bring the other to your peaks.

Spencer succumbed first, still suckling on your nipple when he came with a loud groan and bucked into your hand. You felt his come spilling over your hand and probably over his pants too.

The feeling of his hot seed on your skin and the way he writhed beneath you as you continued leisurely stroking him tipped you over the edge soon after and you shuddered on top of him while your head fell to your chest.

You collapsed on him, both of you panting loudly and fitfully. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head.

“See?” He panted. “Wasn’t that so much better than whatever you were going to do?”

“I’m still going out.” You mumbled into the skin of his sweat slicked chest. “Just as soon as I can get my legs to cooperate.”

It was another five minutes before you were able to move and while you redressed and cleaned yourself up, Spencer went back to pouting at you in his disdain for you leaving him alone.

“You were alone for a long time before I came along, you’ll be fine for an hour. You’re a big tough cowboy, remember.” You chuckled, placing a kiss on his lips before heading to the door.

“I still don’t understand why I can’t come with you.” He grumbled.

“Because I don’t need a chaperone.” You rolled your eyes. “Read a book or something, time will fly by.”

He continued to sulk as you headed for the door and swung it open, before closing it behind yourself. Seconds after you left, Spencer started to spiral. The guilt came in waves, thick and fast. His come was still sticky on his stomach, in his pants. He felt sick out of nowhere.

The thing he felt the most ashamed about was the fact he hadn’t felt ashamed until during the act. He felt guilty for not feeling guilty.

He allowed himself to forget what had happened to him. How could he ever forget? And just like that he was crumbling, tumbling down into an ether he knew all too well.

He embraced it, didn’t try to tether himself, didn’t bother to stop the inevitable. He deserved this, he deserved to suffer for letting himself feel an ounce of happiness.

He wasn’t going to fight it, so instead he let it happen. The anger swelling in his chest, the blurring of his vision. He was ready for it. A part of him welcomed it.

So he fell into the fringes of reality, no longer in control of his own fucked up mind. Divorce the body from the brain. Detach from a world that had only ever wanted him to suffer.

Spencer Reid faded away, or at the very least his mind did. And soon all that was left was a shell of himself, a husk of a man who had seen far too much pain.

He was but an empty vessel. Vacant. Void. Hollow. He surrendered to the momentary bliss he was enveloped into by the promise of detaching from this plane of existence.

This was why he didn’t want you to leave. He was safe when you were here. When you’re gone anything could happen.

And so he simply relented to it. He was so far past the point of being broken that he may as well lean into the fray.

Hello darkness, my old friend.

@kalulakunundrum @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @marvellover1819 @babyspiderling

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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celestiaonlyknows · 8 months

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Kinktober Day 14: Alhaitham- Orgasm Denial

R18+ Minors Do Not Interact

Read on Ao3. <- Day 13 Day 15 ->

It’s been a week at this point since Alhaithem had let you come and it was actually starting to drive you insane. You would be the first to admit that making yourself come without him was probably one of your more bratty moments, but you didn’t think he was going to do this! It was just cruel.

“I’ll let you come again when I finish the book I borrowed, since you had been so impatient last time maybe an end goal will keep your mind more focused on where it should be,” he had said coldly the first time he pulled his fingers from you–leaving you just on the edge of complete bliss. You were panting and a complete mess in your shared bed, but you hadn’t thought much of it at the time. After all, Alhaitham can finish a book in a few hours. You could wait that long.

You should have known better than to assume there wouldn’t be some sort of catch with him.

After his words, Alhaitham had started only reading one chapter a day of the book. It was beginning to drive you insane. He would come home and pull you to bed, skillfully and efficiently bringing you just to the brink with his fingers or his tongue before pulling back and walking away again. Always with the same response of “You’ll get to come when I finish the book I borrowed.” Then he would go and read a chapter before putting the book down and reading something else instead.

It was infuriating. Worse, one day you had thought he actually finished the book as he fucked you properly, only for him to pull out and finish himself–leaving you denied once again. Hot and flushed with both your previous activity as well as embarrassment he dressed to walk away.

“That’s so not fair,” you pouted childishly as you pulled the sheets around you–tears threatening to overflow from anticipation as well as heightened emotions from this abnormally long scene. “How much longer are you going to punish me? Please I promise I won't make myself come without permission again. Just please, I don't know how much longer I can take this!”

“Are you using your safeword?” Alhaitham checked in then and you shook your head. You were frustrated sure, but you didn’t feel like it was out of control or that you couldn’t handle it. He simply smirks then and raises an eyebrow. “Then this will continue until I finish the book I borrowed.”

You sit in the bedroom in silent protest for a moment while you let yourself cool down. A small part of you debated finishing the job yourself before deciding against it. If he pulled this stunt from just one random moment of pleasure, you could only imagine how much worse it would be if you broke your punishment now.

An hour later, you hear the book snap closed. You don’t think anything of it, after all, he was just likely putting the book down to start a different book. It isn’t until he comes back in with a casual look on his face and the book completely closed that you sit up in excitement.

“Now, let's see if you really learned your lesson,” he says before taking off his shirt to pick up where the two of you left off.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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brightstarblogs · 23 days

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Yuma Month Day 13: What If

Now I had a really cool idea for this prompt! What if during chapter 0, Fake Zilch contacted Yomi via the intercom in Car 3 to tell him about the amnesiac detective and Yomi decides that instead of framing him, to use him and make him think he's actually an employee for Amaterasu Corporation. For a detective to actually stand in the way of his own people while never knowing the truth?

I'll explain under a read more but it is fun!

So Chapter 0 would happen the same except when Yuma wakes up and after talking to Shinigami, Yuma exits and Zilch speaks to Yuma, saying the job is done. Yuma would be confused when fake Zilch explains they're both Amaterasu spies and they needed to kill the others. Yuma is horrified but Zilch says that it's unfortunate he forgot and had to drug him too. They're done now though so he'll take him home and trigger his memories to come back.

Now Yuma doesn't fully believe him, he knows something is going on. Shinigami tells him to not speak out loud and to go along for now. Yuma tries to ask Shinigami about his past but she can't because of the rules of the contract. Her hands are tied and she doesn't know what she can do. She also doesn't open the mystery labyrinth as killing fake Zilch will put Yuma in danger, but she vows to reap his soul later.

Yuma arrives in Kanai Ward and Zilch informs Swank what is going on. Swank just goes along with it and Zilch takes Yuma to Yomi. They see Yakou, but Zilch just tells him that the situation ended in a tragic accident. Yakou tries to talk to Yuma but he is taken away before they can.

When Yuma is brought to Yomi, the leader is distraught that one of his top employees can't remember who he is. He gives Yuma an Amaterasu handbook to help trigger memories (yeah right!) and says he'll shadow fake Zilch and other Peacekeeper higher ups on cases and keep order. Yuma bows and says he will, not using the honorific -sama, which Yomi corrects him and says if he slips too much he may have to disappear as well. Yuma is freaked but tries to stay calm.

Zilch gives him standard uniforms that higher ranked Peacekeepers have and introduces him to Seth, Guillaume and Dominic. The others follow the lie and say they'll remind him of his old self.

Yuma and Shinigami make a deal to bring down the company from the inside, using this situation to their advantage.

The game would then follow the same things as before. Yuma would shadow Seth for the Nail Man case at the Clocktower and run into Halara (Who would still end up on the case somehow). They would be more hostile to him but Yuma would try and help them investigate behind the Peacekeepers backs. Same with the other cases in the game.

Yuma would also meet Kurumi who informs him as Kanai Ward's informant that he is not a peacekeeper that he has been led to believe. Yuma doesn't want to speak in case he is bugged but the two start trading in information via secret letters which they keep coded so only they can understand. Kurumi also lets the NDA know of this arrangement so they can work together on cases when their paths do intersect. Yuma hides these letters in his handbook which he keeps on him at all times.

Yuma would get a lot better at lying early on and be resourceful. Shinigami would also reap fake Zilch which would cause Yomi to freak out as his top advisor is gone.

Makoto would also try and get time alone with Yuma somehow and threaten him as he believes his double is now helping Yomi. Yuma however would somehow tell him that he despises Yomi and wants to see his downfall, he is just trying to navigate the situation he's found himself in and stay alive. Makoto still doesn't trust him but the two have an uneasy alliance.

Yuma would probably finally be caught by Yomi in Chapter 4, where it's shown that Yuma has been helping the detectives in the lab, as he's the one who got them inside and finding some of his letters. Yakou would probably protect Yuma as he is shot by Yomi and they manage to barely escape. Yuma would blame himself but would still solve the case. When Yomi is ousted the rest of the NDA would take Yuma back to the submarine where they reveal he was a trainee this whole time. Yuma would be relieved he followed his gut but still blames himself for Yakou's death.

Makoto would then knock them all out and then it would be the same ending probably where Makoto reveals Yuma's real identity.

It's not perfect but I just love this idea of Yomi using Yuma but Yuma still tricking him from inside the company.

#raincode #rain code #master detective archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #zilch alexander #rain code spoilers #raincode spoilers #yomi hellsmile #makoto kagutsuchi #yakou furio #kurumi wendy #my art #my fanfiction #yuma month #yuma month 2024

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littlejuicebox · 6 months

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I want to hold your hand.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character/Ranger AKA AstarionxWren

Chapter number: Ten

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / All fluff no smut in this one / Act 1 Spoilers / Angst / Anxiety / Feelings Realization / Violence / Gore / Past trauma / Alcohol / Swear words / Lae'zel being a butthole again (I promise I actually really love her character but, come on, the behavior in this chapter pretty in character for her.) Word count: 2.8K Masterlist: Click here. Song inspiration: "I Want to Hold Your Hand" - The Beatles (But really, more so the version in Across the Universe because the yearning is palpable in that version.) Notes: LMK if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series in a message. :)

-----

Astarion took a long time gathering enough gumption to finally exit the Druid’s bedchambers. By the time he made his way toward the center of the grove, all the stars were gleaming in the sky, and more than one campfire had been lit. It appeared everyone already ate dinner, made evident by the empty tables full of used crockery and roasts picked nearly to the bone. He heard faint notes of music and an increasing amount of chatter as he made his way up the stone steps to the camp… it sounded like a party.

His other traveling companions were already there, and their tents had all been pitched. He spied Karlach kindly putting his tent up, and Astarion walked over to help her finish the job. Typically, he would've just left the tiefling to the grunt work and walked off to flirt with Wren or merely lounge about, but since Wren had stormed away from him earlier in the evening after their little tiff… he had nothing better to do.

Apart from Wren, Karlach was probably the vampire's favorite companion. Her easy-going nature made it so he didn’t have to perform too terribly hard around her, and he appreciated their rare moments together. Shadowheart was good for some quick banter, of course, but now the cleric’s preoccupation with Lae’zel made that relationship less ideal and he'd found himself avoiding the cleric whenever her green guard dog was around.

The silver-haired elf took one of the tent ties from Karlach and scanned the crowd for Wren. He spotted her sitting by an attentive Halsin. The unexpected sight created a dull ache in his chest, right around where his undead heart sat stock-still. Gods, he had to find a way to fix things before she found herself enamored with someone that was clearly a better alternative and he wasted all his time and effort for… what exactly? What was this thing between them?

The Archdruid towered over the little bird, especially when she was in a seated position. But despite the size difference, the mountain of a man held her arm in a remarkably gentle grip. The vampire tried to ignore the new duo as he thanked Karlach and then meandered toward the pile of booze. Maybe if he just… loosened himself up a bit, he’d be able to talk to Wren about what he was feeling instead of putting his foot in his mouth again. But what was he feeling, exactly? Astarion didn't have the words. Perhaps that wasn’t the point. Perhaps the point was that whatever role she wanted him to perform, he would do it, if it meant he would stay in her good graces. Surely that was a fair price to pay to be rid of the ache in his chest.

As much as the rogue tried to ignore the scene that was making his insides churn, his eyes kept roaming back to the two of them. The vampire watched as Halsin thoroughly, too thoroughly, spread some kind of salve on Wren’s forearm while she occupied herself with chugging whatever she had in her cup. Astarion had a fleeting thought that it should be him applying that salve on Wren's arm, not the big bear. If not him, then surely Shadowheart. Who the hell was this druid, anyway?

Wren had changed from the chemise he’d given her a few days back and into an entirely different, and significantly more revealing outfit. Where the hells had she even found a set of leather trousers? And was she truly just wearing the bodice she wore under her armor on her torso?

After Halsin was done playing doctor with the little bird, the pale elf was sure the sickening rendezvous would end. But then Wren was digging through her bag and revealing the pipe she’d stolen from Halsin with a guilty grin. The Archdruid seemed very entertained by this; he threw his head back as he laughed in pure delight. Halsin said something with a lifted eyebrow and then smiled and returned the pipe back to the little bird.

Gods, Astarion wished he could hear what they were saying from here. He had the strange sensation of being left out, and he bristled at the thought. ‘They are getting along far too well.’

The vampire reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the scene and snatched a bottle of wine from the booze pile. He was in no mood for this little party, but he supposed he would play this part if he had to.

-----

Wren was tired of performing. The whole self-sufficient, strong ranger woman act was getting exhausting. What was the point? She kept making mistakes, anyway… first losing her own eye, then blowing their cover with Minthara, and then the absolute dragonshitshow of a conversation she’d just had with one of her strongest and most versatile campmates. The campmate that she’d bedded the day before, effectively ending her entirely too long streak of voluntary abstinence. But… had her time with Astarion really been a mistake? She couldn't be sure.

Truly, Wren just wanted someone to hold her. And maybe Halsin wouldn’t hold her, but he’d hold her arm with his warm, comforting hand… and slather some sticky, honey-based salve on her charred skin while she chugged whatever Alfira had just poured into her cup. She liked Halsin. He was nice. He was mature, kind, and held an attractive air of relaxed confidence. It was easy to be drawn to his comforting energy; she saw why the grove trusted him.

Before long, the Archdruid wrapped her arm in a bandage, refused the return of his pipe with an explanation that he had several more, and told her that he didn’t know how to remove the parasites, but he had some ideas they could discuss tomorrow. He cut the conversation short and pushed her into the party, insisting she go and have some fun before returning to business-as-usual tomorrow morning.

Wren wasn’t in any mood for this party, but she begrudgingly obliged. After downing whatever was left in her cup, she found herself roped into a few dances with some of the tieflings and one with Gale. By the third cup of — what was it, wine? — she and Karlach tried to dance without touching, mostly just shimmying and spinning around one another like lunatics before falling on the ground laughing at the stupidity of it all. She needed that laugh, and if she could’ve hugged the tiefling woman then, she would’ve.

After the chortling was over, and the ranger's ribs hurt beyond belief, the two women wandered back to the libations. Karlach flicked her gaze over toward Astarion, who appeared to be brooding and trying to hide the fact that he was brooding, and then she looked back to a buzzed Wren. She filled two more cups with some cherry-scented liquid as she addressed the half-elf. “What’s going on with you and Fangs, anyway, soldier? Normally you two are attached at the hip… or the lip.”

“Karlach!” Wren yelped, her eyes widening as she quickly glanced around to see if anyone else had heard the Barbarian. Her already alcohol-flushed face began to trail the rosy blush up her ears and down her neck.

“Oh, come off!” Karlach exclaimed with a chuckle, rolling her eyes at the ranger. “First of all, you’re a grown woman, so you can do whatever and whoever you’d like. Second of all… it’s not really a secret, Wren. We all know. You should’ve seen the absolute state Astarion was in for those few days you were knocked out after that Gur encounter. I doubt he’s like that for just anyone.”

Wren didn’t know what to say in response to Karlach’s revelation. Her fingers moved up to nervously touch her lip scar and then she shrugged, “I guess… I didn’t know how he felt. I… don’t know how he feels.”

“Well… did you ever really ask him?” Karlach responded with a shrug, as if the answer were quite simple to her, cocking her head just slightly at the ranger before shoving the filled cup into her hand.

Wren almost laughed as she lifted the cup to her lips for a drink. She didn’t ever ask him; she’d been too preoccupied by the parasite, and then losing her eye. She didn't stop to speak to him at all, really. The archer soaked in the irony of her own words from her earlier encounter with Astarion swinging like a boomerang right back to her. The substance in her cup tasted better than the previous drinks she’d been given, and the brunette woman eagerly took another sip as she considered her friend’s words with a soft hum. “Alright. I'll ask him."

-----

Astarion watched Wren dance with more than one partner. Should he ask her to dance? Would that smooth things over? He knew how to, of course. But then, if she was so angry with him that she rejected him in front of everyone… well the rogue’s pride truly couldn’t stand for that to happen.

The vampire sat frozen in indecision, sipping from his bottle as his eyes tracked the little bird around the camp. She and Karlach had a bit of conversation by the booze table — it must’ve been about him, because Karlach looked his way more than once. Annoyingly, he couldn’t pick up what they said from this distance over the clamor of other conversations and Alfira’s music. The knowledge that he was being discussed made him uneasy, and he huffed, suddenly scanning the party for a distraction. Just as he was about to throw a line at some tiefling in a futile attempt to stroke his own ego, he heard Wren’s enraged voice thundering through the party.

“What the hell did you just say, Lae’zel?” The little bird was standing face to face with the Githyanki, hands clenched into tight fists.

“You heard what I said. I do not need to repeat it.” Lae’zel responded coolly, stepping even closer to the ranger, answering their group leader’s challenge.

The entire crowd had fallen silent, watching the scene unfold. Wren quickly hooked her right arm, and Astarion stared in a ridiculously juxtaposed mixture of horror and delight as it connected with a solid pow on the other woman’s eye socket. Lae’zel, to her credit, took the punch with barely any reaction and then returned it with one of her own. It landed on the ranger’s nose with a sickening crack.

Astarion rushed forward, along with Karlach and Shadowheart, just as Lae’zel was about to withdraw her blade. But Astarion was faster than the alien and he pressed the edge of his dagger against the Githyanki’s neck in warning.

“Now, now, I think not, little viper. You’re clearly drunk. Go lay down with mommy Shadowheart and take a nap before we all do things we will surely regret in the morning.” His voice warned, tone measured but scarlet eyes heated as they glared into Lae’zel’s.

Shadowheart had hold of Lae’zel’s forearm, staying her blade, while Karlach stood a few paces behind the half-elf. Wren was holding her nose, which was now pouring thin streams of crimson. Astarion couldn’t see the blood from where his face was pressed so closely to the alien, but he could easily smell it. Oh, how his fingers positively ached with the desire to slice into Lae’zel’s neck and repay the debt.

Shadowheart spoke, trying with all her might to remain calm and be the voice of reason. “Come on, Lae’zel. You’re drunk… you didn’t truly mean it. Come with me, let’s go lay down.”

The Githyanki relented, inhaling deeply and stepping back, away from Astarion’s blade. The cleric offered an apologetic look to her other campmates before grabbing her lover’s hand and pulling her away from the party, towards their tent.

“Sorry about that, folks! You know how it goes among family!” Karlach shouted, and soon everyone shrugged off the dispute and resumed their conversations, followed by another swell of music.

After Astarion stowed his blade, he turned to check on Wren. She’d already walked towards her own tent and hidden herself inside the little nest. He followed after her, swiftly ducking himself into the canvas shelter before kneeling down to face the little bird. She’d held a cloth over her nose and fixed her closed eyes toward the ceiling, hoping to slow the bleeding.

“I heard it break. Can’t you heal it yourself?” He murmured, cocking his head slightly as he lifted his hand toward her face, removing the cloth for a moment to examine the damage.

“I tried. But it seems I’m out of spellcasting power. I used it all up at the goblin camp. I’m obviously not going to Shadowheart for help, Halsin already helped me with my arm, and fuck Nettie. So… here I am.”

“Hold on.” Astarion murmured, exiting the tent with no further explanation. Wren’s brows furrowed in confusion as she watched him exit, but that caused a sharp pain in her nose, so she groaned and looked back at the ceiling.

The vampire returned a few minutes later, wearing a large amulet with a jade-colored stone that Wren didn’t recognize and carrying his own backpack. He sat back down and moved his slender hands forward, bidding the little bird to lower the blood-soaked cloth. Long, lithe fingers pressed to the woman’s nose and then Astarion uttered a healing incantation.

Wren blinked in surprise as she felt the familiar warmth of a healing spell seep through her skin and into the fragile bones along the center of her face. Soon enough, her nose felt practically back to normal. Astarion seemed to be watching her for an indication that his efforts worked before lowering his hands. She nodded subtly.

The rogue quietly removed his hands and quickly undid the clasp of the heavy amulet, stowing the piece of jewelry back in his pack. Then he rustled around, withdrawing a small bottle of water and a small scrap of cloth. After dampening the cloth, he lifted it to Wren’s nose and began tenderly cleaning the dried blood off her face. He saw the question in her eyes and answered it without her prompting.

“I found it among Counsellor Florrick’s things, when I found your chemise. Seemed worth keeping, but it’s awfully noisy when I move so I don't wear it all the time.” He says in a hushed voice, pausing for a moment when Wren winced as he pressed too firmly to her still-tender nose. He looks at her for a beat and then continues, “Figured I would hold onto it, just in case...”

'Just in case I end up on my own and I don't have Shadowheart or you to heal me.'

A bit of quiet fell between the two as the elf focused on his task, and the woman focused on one of her pillows instead of the rogue. Astarion noticed this, because she normally watched him so intently with those two-toned eyes of hers. It stung, her lack of attention on him, but he kept working, hoping somehow this was a step in the right direction. At least she hadn’t pushed him away. It was clear that in the thick silence of the tent, which was such a sharp contrast to the raging party outside, that the two of them felt the weight of things unsaid hanging between them.

“What did she say?” Astarion questioned in a low murmur, scarlet orbs wandering from Wren's upturned nose to her distant stare, pulling her attention back to him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Wren huffed, beginning to bristle in response and starting to pull away from the vampire, but his other hand clasped onto her forearm and kept her in place.

The rogue paused for a moment, squinting his eyes at the ranger. Wren could see the subtle prickles of annoyance on his face; her eyes took in the scrunch of his nose and the clenching of his jaw. His tone was stiff, curt, as if he were trying to maintain hold over his emotions. “You said you would tell me anything if I bothered to ask. So, here I am, asking.”

Wren fell silent, as she felt the sting of her own words flipped against her for the second time that night. She moved to thumb her lip scar, and Astarion’s eyes followed her finger for a moment before returning to holding her own eyes in an unyielding stare.

“She…” The little bird looked up at the tent and sighed. Hells, it was going to sound so ridiculous when it came out.

“She overheard Karlach asking what happened to Kol, and I told Karlach that Kol had died. I told her what I told you about the ambush. And then Lae’zel said that I have a type… elves with silver hair and red eyes. And that my history of poor leadership would probably get you killed, just like it had the first one.”

Wren’s mouth hardened into a line, and her voice crackled at the end. Fuck Lae’zel for knowing exactly how to cut into her with words and lay bare one of her biggest fears. Wren didn’t want to be the leader… she didn’t fucking want it! So why did Lae’zel or anyone else have to make it so hard? Didn’t they know she was already beating herself to a pulp for every misstep along the way?

Astarion watched as the little bird rolled her gaze up to the ceiling where she stayed intently focused on the canvas of the tent, trying to conceal her tears. He had half a mind to storm across the camp and cut out the Githyanki’s tongue. Maybe they would all be better off for it; her pessimistic nature wasn’t doing the group any favors, after all. But instead, he sighed, grabbed Wren’s hand, grabbed his own pack, and then stood up, pulling her with him.

“Come on, darling. Let’s get away from this party. The wine is shit and the only company really worth keeping is in this tent, anyway.” He grumbled before walking out of the canvas shelter and heading away from the crowd, toward the grove exit. He kept his fingers wrapped around hers as he led her along.

Wren followed without much of a thought. She spent so much time being a leader, she supposed she basked in the few moments when she got to be a follower. She didn’t know where they were going; she didn’t care. She just wanted Astarion to keep holding her hand for as long as possible.

-----

Taglist: Hiii @mancsunite

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connan-l · 2 months

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Now that Season 7's first trailer is out, it slightly validated some of my theories about which chapters is going to be adapted — so I decided to make a prediction of what Seasons 7 & 8 could looks like (I mean, we still don't have any confirmation for Season 8, but there's no way we don't get it, right?) I'm probably going to be very wrong but it was fun to try and think about!

I'm going to make the assumption that we'll get 13 episode instead of 11 because of something fun I found out: so far there's been 74 episodes of NatsuYuu (OVAs notwithstanding), which means that if we add two seasons of 13 episodes we'll reach the 100 :) So I hope we actually do get 13 episodes this time (I've also seen some people wondering if we'll exceptionnally get a 22 or 26 episodes season because of the 15th/20th years anniversary, which could be fun but I doubt they'll do that sadly).

Season 7:

Episode 1: Chapter 84 (Mini-Nyanko) Episode 2: Chapter 80 (Yorishima intro) Episode 3: Chapter 77 (Hakozaki 2) Episode 4: Chapter 83 (Kitamoto bookstore) Episode 5: Special 17/84.5 (Teen Matonato 2) Episode 6: Chapters 95 & 96 (Isamu arc) Episode 7: Chapter 81 (Flower bed) Episode 8: Chapters 92-94 (Miharu arc) Episode 9: Chapters 92-94 (Miharu arc) Episode 10: Chapter 87 (Nishimura) Episode 11: Special 8/31.5 (Chobi special) Episode 12: Chapters 88 & 89 (Souko arc) Episode 13: Chapters 88 & 89 (Souko arc)

Season 8:

Episode 1: Chapter 71 (Ake & Shiro) Episode 2: Special 14/67.5 (Birds & Reiko) Episode 3: Chapters 106 & 107 (Yorishima arc 2) Episode 4: Chapters 90 & 91 (Tenjou-san/painting arc) Episode 5: Special 19/89.5 (Matoba station) Episode 6: Chapters 85 & 86 (Tanatsutaki inn arc) Episode 7: Chapters 85 & 86 (Tanatsutaki inn arc) Episode 8: Chapter 99 (Origami) Episode 9: Chapter 108 (Chobi) Episode 10: Chapters 100-104 Homura arc Episode 11: Chapters 100-104 Homura arc Episode 12: Chapters 100-104 Homura arc Episode 13: Chapter 105 (Post-Homura)

For Season 7: I know some people wish the season could start with the exorcist chapters, but I think it makes more sense we begin with a ‘normal’ slice-of-life Natsuyuu episode rather than the more heavy stuff. It’s been seven years, after all; they need to reestablish the series’ characters and world properly, and I think chapter 84 with the clay mini-nyanko is th best one for that. I mean, in this chapter we have: Natsume returning a name, mentions of Reiko & the book, cameos of Tanuma and the Fujiwaras (the anime could probably briefly add Kitanishi, Taki & Sasada too), and a bittersweet story about a yokai Natsume befriends — so I think it’s perfect for a new start to a new season. Then it makes sense to follow this up with the exorcist stuffs in episodes 2 & 3. I'm hesitating which one would go first though; if we follow the manga chronologically then it would be the Hakozaki one, but I think they'll likely choose to reintroduce Natori first... I do believe it's important to introduce Yorishima early on too so that they can later adapt the second Yorishima arc in Season 8, to really establishes him as this new important recurrent character. (Though I wonder if 2 exorcist episodes side-by-side would be too much, so maybe they'll adapt Yorishima intro for ep2, then have another slice-of-life episode, then have the Hakozaki chapter.... who knows)

After that I’m no sure on the order, but there must also be the Taki brother arc for a Taki-focused episode, then the Kitamoto & Nishimura chapters. I think it’d makes sense to adapt both of the Kitanishi chapters in season 7 so that then in season 8 they could adapt the Tenjou-san/painting arc in order to make it feel balanced (or they could do the reverse and adapt Tenjou-san arc before in season 7, but I think it's better if it comes after). And then have the flower bed chapter as another slice-of-life episode (which I think is important to have before the Souko arc thematically). Not gonna lie it really frustrates me that they decided to adapt the Tanuma & Misuzu chapters in a movie, because now Tanuma doesn’t have his own arc like Taki has :( At least he still appears more than her in other arcs, but they’re not focused on him so it’s not the same.

So the Chobi special from Volume 8 might seems weird to be in season 7, and admittedly I doubt it'll ever be adapted (maybe in an OAV?? But who knows) - but I thought about it because of Chapter 108 which is also centered on Chobi. Having the Chobi special before Chapter 108 seemed logical to me, though there's more chance we'll get another special like Special 14 or 18. (UNLESS they manage to adapt the Chobi special with Chapter 108 in a single episode... I dunno).

And there's no way they don't adapt the second teen Natori special, which has to be before Miharu arc. I think the Miharu arc will happens either in the middle or towards the end of the season, but I believe having Souko's arc as the final would be pretty emotionally impactful, with ideally 2 episodes. It’s the origin of the Book of Friends after all, so it’s important to really highlight it (though I doubt they'll do that unfortunately, I think they'll likely try to cram everything into a single episode as usual with the 2 chapters arcs -_-).

For Season 8: I think it makes sense to start with slice-of-life chapters with this season too, but admittedly I wasn't really sure which one. The Ake & Shiro or the origami chapters seems the more likely. Then there's still Special 14, which could also make a fun slife-of-life episode.

The Tenjou-san/painting arc and then the Noren inn arc in this season was more fitting than the last in order to balance the focus on Natsume's school friends - and like I said earlier, even though chronologically it happens later in the manga I think they will adapt the second Yorishima arc as well here. I think it’d make sense they decide to adapt the special with Matoba here too (It could be in Season 7 I suppose? But then it would a wayyy too exorcist-focused season).

What I’m the most confident in is that they’ll decide to end Season 8 with the Homura arc, and that it’ll take 3 episodes. This is such a long, important arc, and if they don’t mess it up it would make an amazing final; especially if after that we don’t get another new season until at least a few years.

(Hopefully we won’t have to wait 6 years for Season 9 afterwards… There was 2 years between Season 2 and Season 3, and then 4 years between Season 4 and Season 5, so if Season 8 is released in 2025 then I hope we’ll get Season 9 in like. 2028-2029. please.)

Anyway, just for fun I tried to imagine what a Season 9 could look like too:

Season 9:

Episode 1: Chapters 109 & 110 (Kaka arc) Episode 2: Chapters 117 & 118 (Occult salon arc) Episode 3: Chapter 112 (Taki Matoba tea party) Episode 4: Chapters 113-116 (Younger Cousin arc) Episode 5: Chapters 113-116 (Younger Cousin arc) Episode 6: Chapters 113-116 (Younger Cousin arc) Episode 7: Chapter 111 (Tanatsukitanishi beach) Episode 8: Chapter 120 (Hakozaki 3) Episode 9: Chapters 121-126 (Portrait of a Girl arc) Episode 10: Chapters 121-126 (Portrait of a Girl arc) Episode 11: Chapters 121-126 (Portrait of a Girl arc) Episode 12: Chapters 121-126 (Portrait of a Girl arc) Episode 13: Chapters 127 (Homura cats returns)

This would make for a super plot-heavy season, but well all the recent arcs ARE very plot-focused lol. I initially thought that maybe the Portrait of a Girl arc could make it more to a potential Season 10 while the younger cousin arc could the final for Season 9, but ending the season on such a personal, Natori-focused arc like that would be a bit... strange. So! If we have Portrait of a Girl as a final, I think it makes sense for the occult salon arc to be at the very start of the season to introduce Shinobu and Clara (I vaguely thought it would be fun if they introduced them in Season 8, but the idea of a whole season where we start with the looming threat of Matoba's mysterious sister only to have her identity revealed at the very end is really cool too). I think the beach chapter too could be nice after the Natori arc as a sort of break before we got back into the heavy plot stuff with the 3rd Hakozaki chapter. I gave Portrait of a Girl 4 episodes here because I think it's what it wolud need to be properly adapted (it IS the longest arc to date after all, with 6 chapters!) but because of that I had to scrap the Hinoe chapter (which could then be adapted into Season 10). However I think it's more likely they adapt it into a three-episodes arc sadly (same thing with the Younger Cousin arc, they'll probably cram it into 2 episodes rather than three...)

And here it is haha. Can't wait to see how completely false my predictions will be lol.

Following this, the still unadapted chapters would include: Chapter 119 (Hinoe/Natsume crossdressing), Chapter 128 (current arc) that would fit into Season 10, then Special 18 (Nyanko meets little boy), Special 20 (movie special), Special 21 (little traveling yokai), Special 22 (Ribbon Nyanko & Mana Kitamoto), all of which could either fit in Season 10 or in an OAV.

#Natsume Yuujinchou #NatsuYuu #Natsume's Book of Friends #Natsuchou #Natsume Takashi #Nyanko-sensei #Natsume

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justasussybitch · 2 months

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Picturing LFL au where Luke did manage to escape with Shiera that day. Imagining Luke offering to inter Aemond on driftmark rather then have him killed.

Everyone thinking it’s some weird guilt thing or a devotion to the seven he must’ve found in captivity (obviously no one knows the extent and assumes most rumours spread by mushroom are obviously false (side note George making the drunken lecher having more truths versus the oh so pious Septon Eustace is something I can 100% see)).

Luke just enjoys having the say of whatever Aemond eats or wears. The fact that he’s the only person who can decide if the terror of the riverlands lives or dies is something he probably thinks of whenever he’s having some trouble with sexual intimacy ( though no one would know about the extent to his occasional internal struggles with his past not even Rhaena). anytime he remembers his abuse that’s only been shared with (maybe Rhaena??) ,Jace or Daemon (who would have a bit more of an idea of war time practices in Westeros) he remembers that he has Aemond in his hands not the other way around.

Balancing never seeming weak again and being this loving brother/son/heir that once came so easy to him. Then him and Rhaena having her six daughters like canon (for Rhaena) and him making the eldest heir like he fought for but always in the back of his mind that men are not safe from other men in war time but especially not women. Just whole other bucket of trauma for him to deal with. Especially after he started praying to primarily female deity figures during his own s/a and captivity.

Probably spoilers if anyone has ever read my own fic but I quite enjoy Luke claiming Cannibal trope (now a trope, at the time I started publishing my fic in October 2022 there was crumbs to eat but thankfully we’re feasting now as lucemonders!!). Arrax being this pearlescent dragon who was swift and growing every year symbolising Luke himself growing from this unsure boy into someday maybe someone more sure of himself then claiming cannibal a dragon rumoured to be strange enough to devour its own kind, pitch black and monsterously older than the Iron throne itself. Just a very silly and lazy way for me to bring this visual of loss of innocence tho I defend myself in my mind that GRRM probs wanted Arrax to evoke that when he made him Pearl white with golden chest to die when he was 13 along with Luke.

Not even getting into the fun interactions with Aemond. Maybe Luke is still keeping this love act up for some fucked reason in his head and has Aemond convinced he’s alive out of love. Or if history changes yet again and Aemond has the injuries of Rooks Rest instead of Aegon (like the rumours his dick broke) after the war kicks off later, how Luke would manipulate his way into topping him (the thing he’ll think will “cure him” of his nightmares and traumas. Not how that works bookie but I understand even being raised by a polycule in this time would not save him from the patriarchys nonsense lol)

Even better him visiting winterfell with Jace and stumbling upon his brother and Cregan and watching their interactions (Cregans fucking Jace’s “cunt” and still sees him as a man??? Talks about loving Jace’s cock despite being the “man” in their relationship) just completely breaking apart his ideas of what he’s internalised m/m relationships being.

I wouldn’t change a thing of LFLEFE of course, it’s perfection. it’s always fun to read someone’s work and wonder of the “what ifs” (which is what I do between chapters of fanfiction too as you’ve seen from my delirious asks before lol) and how the characters would shift and change when the butterflies wings change to a different direction.

At that point in the story Aemond has already planted this cruelty in Luke (not in general, we see him freely empathise with people even when not knowing them like the servants entering the chambers after shieras death) that Luke has to foster against Aemond in his mind to survive the ordeal. It’s a coping mechanism for him that allows him to continue the charade. The satisfaction of tricking Aemond is probably what kept him alive through much of the uncertainty.

A scene of the new show Mary & George where the main character who usually tops bottoming with his enemy after (falsely) professing love just to fuck with his mind and get one final “I’m the one who won here. Go fuck yourself” literally gave me this vibe and I don’t know where it could possible fit in this “au” lol. Luke taking back his own asshole in a way idk that’s so silly hahah

Luke taking his own feelings of self loathing and low self esteem and sharpening them into a weapon to use against Aemond? Art, chefs kiss!

Sorry this got so long I was inbetween tasks and kept forgetting how long it was 🤣

some very mild spoilers for the themes/arcs i have planned for the series

a friend had already recommended Mary & George to me, but this definitely confirms i need to watch it also, 100% get it. i constantly have to restrain myself from writing canon divergence fic of my canon divergence fic. to the point that, if i do manage to finish the series in a reasonable time frame, i may very well cave and do just that. (personally, i like to think that if Shiera lived, she would have become a sailor). tbh if anyone, for whatever reason, wrote a 'what if' fic based on any fic of mine... well, i think that's kind of the highest honour a fic writer could receive, isn't it? so it's a practice i fully endorse.

westerosi gender is 100% something i want to explore/am exploring in this series. especially in relation to sexual violence being so gendered in the setting, to the point that being raped is almost feminising in the eyes of many of the characters. lfleye!Luke 100% identifies as and will continue to identify as a man in the series. but his experiences now means he identifies *with* women far more. as you've noted, Luke is a very empathetic character. while not many characters will acknowledge it in-universe, Luke is extremely strong as a character, and thats proven with how his experiences have increased his empathy rather than diminished it. it's so tempting to be 'strong' after being 'weak' by inflicting abuse on others and exploiting whatever societal power you have, especially in a setting like Westeros. but a really big part of Luke's arc is going to be to a refusal to do that, and to continue to identify with the abused (women, lowborn, etc). (some of my interest in Theon as a character actually comes from a similar place)

this is a roundabout way to say that, yes, if he had six daughters he would be Stressed. but those six daughters would be very, very lucky.

at the same time. lucemond in this series is Toxic. with a capital T. and i'm not going to let Aemond have all the fun with that. if Luke ended up in the role of captor, it would be delicious. because he would 100% find comfort and satisfaction in asserting control over Aemond, even as he felt shame for it. or, alternatively, felt shame for *not* feeling shame for it.

and oh. oh boy. Luke being confronted with an actual heathy (for hotd) m/m relationship, not just in the abstract of Laenor but in the this-is-happening-right-now-in-front-of-me of his brother, would also be an experience for him. probably one he needs. in general, Luke is definitely going to try and get a better understanding of sexuality, and his sexuality specifically, in the next fic. whether he succeeds...

and Cannibal!!!! gods, i adore Cannibal. i do remember him being kind of unpopular, at least among some of the more active fan creators, but i saw this analysis about how he represents the dance--black scales, green eyes, eats his own kind, disappears at the end--and i've been obsessed ever since. he's definitely going to make an appearance so he can bring that symbolism (amongst others) to the table, whether Luke claims him or not. (i decided in 2022 whether Luke was going to claim a second dragon or not, and if yes then who, and while it is foreshadowed in the fic, and in some of the comments, i'll at least pretend i'm maintaining the mystery). what's the name of your fic? bc i would love to read some Luke & Cannibal.

#asks #tft #lflefe #efelfl

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 10 months

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Nobody's Fool: Chapter 24

Pairing: EddieXReader

Summary: You have bartended for years after you were forced to drop out of college due to family circumstances. You have dated your fair share of musicians, had your heart broken by one particular one, and have learned they are not be trusted. You have sworn off of them for the rest of your life. Then, one night, a new band plays at the bar, and against your better judgement, you can't help noticing the lead singer and guitar player. Could he possibly be different from the ones who came before him?

Warnings: 18+ Only due to eventual smut and language. There is also a toxic family relationship with a narcissistic mother if that is triggering for you.

MasterList

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28

You sat across from Jen the next day. You had gone to your favorite coffee shop, Jen insisting that you needed to get out for a bit and sit in the sunshine. You had gotten home last night and Jen was already asleep so you hadn’t had a chance to tell her everything that had transpired during your shift. It was fine because you weren't sure that you would have had the energy or emotional stability to share.

This morning, Jen had to practically drag you out of bed. She knew something was wrong, but you hadn’t felt like sharing so she insisted you head out and do something instead of wallowing in your room.

You knew you had done this to yourself. You had been awful to him, making him constantly prove himself to you when he already had a dozen times over. Anyone would have gotten sick of your shit. Maybe you deserved to feel as hollow as you felt right now. You probably deserved everything that had happened last night. But you really hadn’t expected him to go running off with another girl that quickly. You had thought he was different.

“Okay, we’re sitting in the sun, breathing fresh air, and drinking caffeine,” Jen said. “Tell me what’s going on. I know you’re going through some rough shit right now but something else had to have happened. You were like a zombie this morning. Did you even sleep?”

“Not really. It was kind of hard after the shitshow that last night was. Both Eddie and Sebastian showed up at the bar last night,” you told her, taking a long drink of your coffee. It was still hot and it burned your tongue, but it felt good to feel something other than this black void that had been in your chest since watching Eddie with that girl.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” you muttered.

“So, I’m guessing that didn’t go well?”

You laughed sarcastically, trying to ignore the insistent pounding behind your eyes. Lack of sleep and too much crying for two nights in a row was catching up to you fast. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Did Sebastian fuck things up?”

“He couldn’t fuck anything up. I already did a fine job of that myself. He was just annoying,” you groaned. “He walked in as Eddie was yelling at me and took that as a sign to make a move again. He was all arrogant, assuming me and Eddie didn’t work out because I still had feelings for him. He was pushy and then when I wasn’t responding, he got nasty. He was his usual charming self. I basically told him to fuck off and that he didn’t deserve me and he got pissed off and left.”

“Well, that’s good,” Jen said, grinning. “Damn, I’m really proud of you for telling him off. That’s a step in the right direction of saying fuck you to all the assholes in your life. But why was Eddie yelling at you? Were you two fighting?”

“No. He came in already drunk and apparently decided to spew all his anger at me all over the bar. He came with an agenda. Everyone was watching as he called me an ice queen and a frigid bitch. He told Sebastian he could have me because he was done with me.”

“Ouch, damn,” Jen sighed, leaning back in her chair, thinking. “I’m so sorry girl. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of it though. You said he was drunk and he’s obviously hurt about what happened with you guys the other night. That’s a really toxic combination right there. He just acted stupid. I am guessing he is going to be falling all over himself to apologize the next time you talk. You didn't plan on talking to him, right?”

“Yeah, I did but I don’t think it matters anymore,” you choked, your voice shaking as you battled back tears. Jesus, how many tears could one person possibly have? You had to be running out of them at this point. “I’m pretty sure he’s done with us because that wasn’t the only thing he did.”

“Oh no.”

You took a deep breath, trying to control your emotions before you shared the rest. You didn’t want to sob into your coffee in front of a bunch of strangers, putting on full display just how unbalanced you were. You'd done enough crying last night, alone, in your bedroom.

“He found some chick on the dance floor, a really beautiful one. He was dancing…I guess more like mating with her and kissing her. Then he left with her, making sure that I saw everything, so I guess you can make your own conclusions about how that ended.”

“Shit,” Jen breathed. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I know he’s probably hurting but I never would have expected that from him. I mean, that’s low. He came to your bar on purpose just to hurt you and to make sure you saw him with another girl. I can’t believe that. I really thought he was a good guy, but maybe I was wrong.”

“Yeah, you and me both,” you whispered. “I fucked up with him. I know I did. I couldn’t get past all my own fears to let myself just be with him and I get him being pissed off. He has every right to be. For a minute I wondered if I made a mistake. I was thinking of trying to talk to him and fix it, but now I’m thinking maybe it’s for the best. He clearly had no problem getting over it. I was feeling guilty because I thought I misjudged him but he turned out to be exactly what I was afraid of.”

“Damn. That really sucks.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Clearly, it’s over so I need to just move on and let it go,” you sighed, leaning back and taking another drink of your coffee. “He’s moved on so everything he said that night was probably bullshit anyway. He had no problem jumping onto the next pretty girl he saw. I guess I don’t need to feel guilty anymore. How could he possibly love me if he was able to just find someone new the next night like we never happened?”

“Ugh, men,” Jen sighed.

“Well, you have a good one,” you offered.

“That’s true, but I have had my share of ugh ones,” Jen laughed, leaning across the table. “You know what, screw Eddie. He’s not deserving of you either. Both him and Sebastian can go to hell, the nasty pricks. You’re going to find Mr. Right. You’re on the path to self-healing and becoming the badass bitch you were always meant to be.”

You chuckled. “I don’t know about all that.”

“Yes you are! Your first step was telling off Sebastian and letting all that negative shit go. Actually, that was the second step because you told off your mom already and you finally put your foot down with her. You haven’t spoken to her or tried to run over there to fix whatever bullshit problem she had going on since that night she called you. You are moving forward. Leave all of them assholes behind because they never deserved you anyway.”

“That’s right,” you agreed, nodding. “I did tell Sebastian off, and you know what, it felt good. No more picking losers. I am not going to be with anyone else who doesn’t deserve me. I am not going to let my mom push me around. She can figure out her own damn life. She’s never done a single thing for me so why do I feel the need to do anything for her? And my Dad? Let him have his stupid life with his wife who’s half his age. What do I care? I don’t need any of them.”

“That’s my girl. You got me so what would you need anyone else for?”

You threw your head back and laughed and damn, it felt good, “Exactly. Who could want more than a friend like you?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Jen smirked. “I am clearly more than enough.”

___________________________________________________________

You and Jen were walking back to your apartment, arm in arm, after your coffee date. You were talking about all of the things that you were going to do with this new view on life. You were beginning to feel pretty positive about your future. You finally felt ready to let go of all of your shit. It wasn’t your shit anyway. It was everyone else’s shit, and quite honestly, you were tired of carrying it for them. You were done letting others dictate your happiness or control your life.

And the next guy, whoever he was, well, you knew it would be hard but you were going to try to just let them in. If your time with Eddie had proven anything to you, it was that this guarding yourself bullshit was not working. You had wound up getting hurt anyway and a lot of that was on you. You wanted happiness. You wanted love and you deserved to have it. You couldn’t do that if you kept putting up walls. It was time to smash the shit out of them for good.

As you turned the corner, the positive feeling you had been carrying quickly vanished. Eddie was in front of your building, pacing back and forth, smoking a cigarette. He looked like a complete mess. His hair was a rat’s nest around his head and your fingers itched to run through it and untangle it, smoothing it around that beautiful face. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt that was horribly wrinkled as if he had slept in it and then just never changed. Had he rolled out of bed and then come here?

He looked up as you approached and you paused at the sight of his face. His eyes were bloodshot, heavy bags under them pointing to a sleepless night. You were sure he did have a sleepless night. The girl he took home with him last night looked like she was down for just about anything and could probably go all night.

“Princess, thank god,” he said, approaching you quickly as he tossed his cigarette. “I’ve been waiting here for an hour. Please, I…”

Jen instantly jumped in front of you, blocking his way and putting her hands up to fend him off. That was you friend, bodyguard extraordinaire. Don’t fuck with her friends because she had no problem fucking with you. Jen may have no trouble telling you when you were being an idiot but she would defend you with her life when someone hurt you.

“No way. You need to leave,” she said firmly.

“No, please, you don’t understand. I have to explain,” he said.

“She doesn’t need to understand and you don’t need to explain. She’s well aware of what happened last night. You made certain of that when she chose to flaunt it in her face at her place of employment,” Jen said. “You’re an asshole and she doesn’t want to talk to you now or ever. Just get the hell off of our property.”

This wasn’t technically your property seeing as it was an apartment building, but you didn’t feel this was the time to argue that fact with your friend. Jen looked like she was ready to claw his eyes out if it came to that.

“Please, I just need to talk to her for a minute. Just give me one goddamn minute, please? Sweetheart, please listen to me,” he pleaded.

“I told you…” Jen started.

“Listen to you?” you asked, stepping around Jen. You had said you were going to start facing your problems. You said you were done hiding behind walls. Well, that included the wall that was Jen. As much as you appreciated your friend, you needed to start being an adult and adults handled their own shit. “I fucked up, I can admit that and you had every right to be pissed off at me but what you did last night was really shitty and just fucking low. We’re done. You’ve made that perfectly clear so I don’t see what you could possibly have to say to me.”

“Princess, I was drunk,” he stammered. “I was completely fucked up. I shouldn’t have even walked into that bar. Gareth and Jeff, they tried to stop me. I should have listened to them. I was a complete idiot. I just, I wanted you to hurt the way that I was hurting.”

“Well, bask in your success, Eddie. You accomplished your goal,” you hissed at him, throwing your arms wide.

“I didn’t mean to do that. I never would have done that if I’d been sober,” he said. “I…it didn’t mean anything.”

“Yes it did Eddie,” you said. “It means that you are exactly the kind of guy I said you were the first time we met! You are just like Sebastian and every other guy who thinks they’re a rockstar and that gives them carte blanche to fuck with people and do whatever the hell they want. You were done with me so you moved on to the next willing participant and then enjoyed rubbing it in my face. I fucked up but what you did was unforgivable. I told you then, I don’t want anything to do with guys like that so get the hell away from my apartment and stay the hell out of my life!”

“Princess…” he whispered but you just walked past him, Jen following, and into your building.

You stormed up the stairs, stomping every step and into your apartment. Goddamn him. You had been in such a good mood and then he had to show up and destroy your whole day. His face, shit, if you didn’t know any better, you would think he was hurting as much as you were. He looked so sad and so tired, but that was probably just hungover from too much beer and too much sex.

“You okay?” Jen asked, pulling you in for a side hug.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’m fine. I said what I needed to say. I don’t even know why he bothered coming here. He obviously moved on. I don’t need his damn apologies because he’s probably just trying to ease his guilty conscience and that’s not my problem.”

“You’re right. He’s probably just trying to make himself feel better because he knows he was an asshole. Screw that. He wants to move on and fuck other girls, have at it but he didn’t need to rub it in your face.”

Jen moved over to the window, pushing the blinds back and looking down.

“Shit, he’s still sitting out there.”

“What?” you asked, walking over to look.

Sure enough, Eddie was still out there, sitting on their steps, his head in his hands. You watched him, wondering what the hell he was doing. After a few minutes, he stood up and walked to his bike, his head hanging low. He glanced up toward your window and you dropped the blinds quickly, hoping he hadn’t seen you watching.

“Is he gone?” Jen asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, shocked at how awful that made you feel.

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whatsnewalycat · 2 years

Text

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 26: This Must be the Place

Word Count: 4.5k+

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags / CW: swearing, pregnancy, fluff fluff fluff, love notes, smut, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, unprotected PIV sex, gave javi some gray sweatpants bc he deserves it and so do we

Chapter Summary: Our heroes spend the morning together.

Notes: Chapter title from "This Must be the Place" by Talking Heads. This is the last chapter!! Holy shit! I'm putting this out earlier than anticipated because I'm getting antsy about it and I really like it as is. Seriously I'm going to go cry now, because I'm feeling sad and proud and excited all at once. I'll *probably* write more with these two in the future, though. That sounds fun. If you liked it let me know, pleaaaase, I'm a whiney baby that loves reassurance!! OK THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[ Masterlist for Series ] [ Taglist ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ AO3 ]

Peña Ranch, Laredo, TX November 29, 1998

Your eyes blink open to late morning light pouring onto the bed. As they attempt to adjust from the darkness of sleep, you clamp them shut, rolling over to throw your arm across Javier.

Except, he’s not there. Your arm flops onto something crinkly instead. One eye cracks open and finds a pile of papers folded in half where your boyfriend usually is. Their ragged edges are intact, proof that they were yanked out from the spine of a spiral notebook.

You pick up the bundle and blink both eyes open.

“READ ME” is scrawled on the top fold in Javi’s messy script. You take a deep morning yawn and wriggle upright, propping yourself up on a stack of pillows. The comforting scent of brewing coffee wafts into the bedroom. Javi is humming along to the radio in the kitchen. Pans clatter and cupboards slam by his hand as you unfold the stack of papers and start reading.

—

December 5, 1993

I can’t stop thinking about you. How are you even doing this to me?

Yesterday I went to your apartment building. Your bedroom lights were on and the blinds were closed. I sat outside for an hour, knowing you were there, unable to bring myself to do anything about it.

Even if I could have gathered the courage to knock on the door, what would I have said to you?

I like the feel of your hand in mine. I like your laugh. You’re beautiful. Do you want to go on a date with me?

Those words shouldn’t make a man like me nervous, but they do. So nervous that I left San Antonio without letting them leave my mouth.

—

December 1, 1994

It’s been a year since I kissed you.

I had to leave. I’m sorry. Duty calls.

Maybe we’ll meet again. Sometimes I hope we don’t. It’s for the best. You’ll find someone better.

—

June 4, 1998

I can’t tell you this. So I’m writing to you. I know you’re engaged, and you’re happy with Dan fucking Baker. Even though it makes no sense to me.

But I’ll be damned. Every time I look at you I remember exactly what you felt like. What you taste like. I crave your lips on mine again.

—

June 13, 1998

When I’m with you, we’re opposite poles in magnets resisting the inevitable. The pull is so strong, I ache. You feel it, too. I can tell.

Your lips, your touch, the perfect way I fit inside you. I can never unlearn these things. I’ve tried. They’re etched in my bones. It’s fundamental, as central to my being as breathing.

I long for you, love. It’s torture.

—

June 25, 1998

I am in love with you.

So, here I am, writing to you, imagining I had the guts to say it.

This is absolute fucking madness, cariño. But I woke up next to you and saw you there and I knew.

—

July 30, 1998

I don’t know where you are, but I saw you. I can feel you. I don’t know how I know, but I know. You’re scared. I’m scared, too. I’ve never been so terrified to lose someone.

When I lost my mom, I didn’t get to be scared. One moment she was on her way back from the grocery store, and the next she was gone. In an instant, the sun in our lives burnt out.

You would have loved her. Everyone did, she was just that kind of person. She had a wit about her. Lit up any room she walked into, but nobody fucked with her.

She loved deer because of their polarity and intuition. They’re gentle, fierce, cautious, adventurous. They shed and regrow their antlers. She said they’re symbolic of duality, listening to your gut feelings, renewal and growth. She would have loved you, too.

There are so many things I want to tell you. I should have listened to you. I didn’t let you come with me. You trusted me to protect you, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry.

I promise I will find you. I love you and miss you so much, cariño. Please hold on a little bit longer.

Tell baby Peña I say hello and that I love them, too.

—

August 1, 1998

I’m watching you as you sleep in our bed. You’re battered, bruised, stitched together… but you and the baby are ok. It’s a fucking miracle, cariño, I swear.

I introduced myself to your parents in the hospital waiting room last night. Your dad looked at my extended hand like there was shit smeared on it. They’re right to not want anything to do with me right now.

It’s a good thing their approval means approximately jack shit to you. Because I am never letting you go.

—

November 29, 1998

Today’s the day I give you the letters I never thought I would, so I can show you how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.

Come out to the kitchen, baby.

—

You sniffle and rub the tears out of your eyes and set the unfolded stack of love letters down on the black duvet, then scoot to the edge of the bed. The floor is cool on the soles of your feet, one then the other. Javi starts singing “I Just Want to Dance With You” by George Strait. Your heart swells with love. You grab your fuchsia robe from the back of the desk chair and tie it around your body as you emerge from the bedroom and follow his voice.

He’s leaning on the kitchen island over a newspaper crossword puzzle, one hand holding a pen as the other slides his wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, singing, “I caught you lookin' at me when I looked at you; Yes, I did, ain't that true? You won't get embarrassed by the things I do; I just wanna dance with you…”

You greet him with a giddy smile, padding across the floor towards him, “Good morning.”

A smile stretches across his handsome face when he peers up at you from the newspaper, “Good morning, beautiful.”

He sets the pen down and pushes off of the counter, meeting you with an outstretched hand. You take it, and he pulls you close, placing one hand on your waist. He guides you in a clumsy waltz to the tempo of the music.

You giggle at him as he presses his forehead to yours. The lyrics of the upbeat ballad drift from his mouth, hot on your cheek. When the song ends, he keeps his fingers interlaced with yours and leads you to the kitchen island, where you take a seat on a stool across from him.

He goes to the coffee pot and pours you a cup, then sets it down in front of you. Steam curls out of the white ceramic mug that reads CAVE WITHOUT A NAME. You wrap a hand around it, humming with glee, “Thank you, baby.”

“Did you sleep good?” he asks, a grin spread across his face as he leans his elbows onto the newspaper.

He is up to something.

“I did,” your face flushes as your fingertip runs along the circumference of the steaming mug, collecting condensation, “I, um- I read your notes.”

He brings his coffee mug to his lips and takes a sip, then sets it down and asks, “Did you like them?”

You nod and your mouth gapes open as you try in vain to formulate words that could possibly explain the love and devotion bubbling inside you. Every moment you spend with him makes you love him even more. A feat you didn’t even think was possible. Yet, here you are. He wakes you up with love notes, dances with you in the kitchen, smiles at you with those fucking dimples, and you’re falling in love all over again.

The euphoria that cycles through your veins when he’s touching you. The dread that clutches your heart when you imagine existing without his presence. The deep ache of adoration in your chest when you stare at him long enough to feel sentimental about it. All the ways he occupies your body and soul. Every ounce of you knows that this is it .

Everything you can think of falls flat. Your face feels hot and your heart flutters. Happy tears prick in your eyes as they meet his and your eyebrows draw together, “You really wrote all of those?”

He reaches across the countertop and closes your hand in his, nodding, “I did.”

“Oh, Javi-“ the lump in your throat chokes you up and you wipe away the tears spilling onto your cheeks, “I’m sorry for crying, I just-“ you sniffle and pout at him, “I love you so much. I don’t even know how to explain.”

“I love you too, cariño,” he rubs his thumb along the back of your hand affectionately. His smile hasn’t faltered, even as he tells you, “I think I’m going to get you to break your record today.”

The record he speaks of is the number of times you’ve cried in a day. For the past week, tears have become a common reaction to overwhelming emotions. The pregnancy hormones are mingling with your recent life changes, on top of your predisposition to being a crybaby already, and have made you a sappy, teary-eyed disaster.

Yesterday, he found you outside watching Pickles wriggle around on his back. Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, face wet from bawling. When he asked what was wrong, your answer was, “Nothing, he’s just so cute I feel like my heart is going to explode.”

Your record is 10 cries in one day. You’ve been awake for about a half an hour and have already cried twice. It’s an impressive start.

You sniffle again and wipe the stagnant tears away, then start laughing because you can’t even continue to take him seriously. He’s just fucking beaming at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” he starts laughing, too, then makes his way around the counter to you.

His rough hands cup your cheeks and you shake your head as you grin up at him, “I just think you’re really great.”

“Yeah?” his smile widens, and you nod in response. He leans in and presses his lips to yours. The kiss is a sweet peck, and you link your arms behind his neck to draw him in again, lingering longer this time. He inhales sharply as your tongue meets his, flipping your stomach upside down. His touch trails back to the hinges of your jaw, and he brushes the sleep-mussed hair from your face as the kiss deepens.

A soft moan rumbles in your throat and you get to your feet, arching your back into him. His hands find your waist and pull you closer, and you can feel his cock hardening against you under the loose constraints of his lazy Sunday morning sweatpants. But he pulls back, speaking to you between needy, wet kisses, “Wait- mmm, gotta- gotta show you something-“

You pout and look up at him as you bring one hand down to his tented pants and rub your thumb in a circle against the tip of his length, “Can it wait?”

He throws his head back as a hiss sucks the air from his lungs, then brings his eyes back to yours and shakes his head, “Can’t wait.”

“Are you sure?” you bat your eyelashes and continue to tease him, feeling a bead of pre-cum wet the fabric between his cock and the pad of your thumb.

A huge smile spreads across his face as he shudders, then pulls you back in for a smoldering kiss. He shakes his head as he gasps against your mouth, “So impatient, cariño.”

“You want me to stop, baby?” you ask innocently, then roll your tongue against his and wrap your hand around his sweatpants-bound cock. He grabs your wrist gently and laces your fingers with his, then brings the back of your hand to his lips, where he plants a kiss.

“What I want-“ he lowers himself onto one knee and pulls a little black velvet box out of his pocket. Every cell in your body comes to a standstill. He releases your hand so he can open it, revealing a gold band with a solitary sparkling white gemstone, “Is for you to marry me.”

A surge of adrenaline floods your bloodstream, making you lightheaded, and you breathe, “Wh- what?”

Your heart pounds impossibly fast in your chest as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes and asks, “Will you marry me?”

Tears brim your eyes for the third time this morning, cheek-burning smile breaking out on your face when you answer him, “Fuck yes I will.”

“Yeah?” he laughs and his smile is all dimples and perfect teeth when he plucks your hand up and slides the ring onto your finger.

You laugh through your crying and nod. He gets to his feet and cups your cheeks again, thumbs wiping the tears away, and he kisses you with heat, guiding you backwards until you butt up against the dining room table.

You cease kissing and throw your head back as laughter bubbles from your throat, “I can’t believe you just let me keep fondling you when you were going to ask that!”

A smile stretches across his face as he chuckles and shrugs, “You’re very persuasive.”

Your eyebrow quirks, “Oh yeah?”

“But I couldn’t wait any longer,” his face softens into a loving gaze and your heart aches as it melts in your chest. He takes your left hand and holds it up so he can look at the ring he just adorned on your finger, and questions, “Do you know what today is?”

Your stomach flips and you nod, “I met you five years ago today.”

“That’s right,” the corners of his mouth upturn and he plants a kiss on your hand, “I fell in love with you five years ago today.”

Your eyes sting as tears flood them again, the deep well of adoration and love you have for this man just too much to bear, and you pout, “This really isn’t fair, you’re trying to make me cry now.”

His eyes fold into crescents as he laughs heartily, then presses his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Javier,” you raise your hands to his face, thumbs scraping against the stubble he hasn’t shaved off yet this morning. He kisses you slowly, a series of lazy, wet lingering pecks.

His hands trail down to your waist, then over and under your ass, palming the cheeks over your thin cotton robe.

His nose nuzzles against yours and he hums in contentment, “Where were we?”

“I think,” you drop your gaze to his tented pants and smirk as you bring your grasp around him, circling the dark gray wet spot with your thumb, “We were going to the bedroom.”

He groans at the touch, then shakes his head as he guides you onto the table and nudges your knees apart, “I want you right here.”

You let out a soft coo when he tugs on the sash of your robe until it’s undone and falls open, exposing your naked body. He cradles your head like it’s made of something delicate and priceless, then drags his tongue across yours, sending molten heat dripping down your spine. His lips press against your jawline and he hesitates.

You whisper, “Kiss my neck.”

“Are you sure?” his eyebrows press together and he pulls back to meet your eyes, searching for reassurance.

Recently, you both learned that touch to your neck is a trigger now. He has been cognizant not to touch you in the area since an incident, in which he innocuously put his hand to your throat during sex, led to your hyperventilating on the bedroom floor.

Throughout your recovery after those two days in hell with Dan as your keeper, Javi has been fucking wonderful.

When you wake up in the night, screaming and crying, thinking you’re still in that closet, he holds you, rocking back and forth, singing quietly as he strokes your hair and lulls you back to sleep. You do the same for him sometimes.

In the first few weeks, when you would be alone for an extended period of time while Javi and Chucho were out working, panic attacks found you. You would call Javi from their home phone and he’d have you tell him all the things you could see that start with a certain letter, then he would talk you through grounding exercises.

If it weren’t for the support you receive from him and your therapist, you would be a catastrophe. As opposed to what you are now, which is simply a mess.

You nod and tilt your chin up, exposing the column of your throat, “I want it. I trust you.”

“Will you tell me if it’s too much?” his touch falls to your ribcage and ghosts down your sides to your hips, pricking your skin with goosebumps.

“I promise,” you breathe, and it turns into a gasp when his tongue massages a circle into your pulse. Your whole body shudders when he seals his lips against you and sucks gently. He migrates down your neck, leaving a trail of saliva shiny on your skin, sending your heart racing and your center vibrating with lust.

“Oh, Javi, that’s so good baby,” you whimper to the ceiling, raking your fingers through his hair. His lips emit a low hum against you, moving to your collarbone where his teeth catch your skin. Your back arches into him, moaning in approval of the sharp sting. He soothes the bite with the gentle caress of his tongue.

Rough hands skate along the tender skin of your thighs. The contact floods you with a neediness, and you grab at his shirt, whimpering, “I want you, Javi.”

He brings his lips to your ear and purrs, “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Come on,” you pout and reach for his swollen member, but he redirects your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“You need to learn patience, babygirl,” he chastises, then flicks your earlobe with his tongue before grinding it between his teeth. A spring of pleasure flows down to your cunt. You moan in response, pelvis thrusting forward with a mind of its own. He whispers, “Does that sweet little pussy need attention?”

The words slither around inside you, making you squirm, and you nod breathlessly, “Y-yes.”

His free hand splays across your chest, “Well, that’s too fucking bad . Gonna take my time with you,” he warns as he pushes you back gently until you recline onto your elbows, “Gonna make you beg for it.”

His hot gaze meets yours as his velvet tongue flattens on one of your pebbled nipples. His head swivels back and forth, dragging his tongue across the sensitive bud at a torturously slow tempo. Another shudder runs down the middle of you.

“Fuck- “ you gasp, arching into the contact, head falling backwards for a moment before you return to meet his love-blown eyes.

He responds by taking the nipple between his front teeth and tugging ever-so-gently. You moan from deep in your throat at the ripples of ecstasy that shoots across your body. Your cunt clenches around nothing. He moves to the other tit and works away, lapping and nibbling down on your nipple until you’re writhing beneath him, a constant stream of whimpers falling from your mouth.

“Fuck me, please, Javi, please- “

“I will, cariño,” he promises, planting a hot, wet kiss on your sternum, then your belly, never breaking eye contact, “When I’m ready.”

His tongue draws slow, lazy circles down the soft skin of your abdomen. The sensation rolls across your body and liquifies. He has you shivering and gasping at each touch.

You huff, "Now?"

He chuckles at your frustration, then instructs, “Scoot towards me.”

You follow his order, wiggling forward until your glistening pussy is right on the edge of the table. His hands run down the backs of your thighs, and he spreads you open wide, on display for him.

His eyebrows press into a crease and his lips form an "o" and he drops to his knees at the sight, purring, “I haven’t even touched this pretty pussy yet and, fuck, you’re already so wet.”

“So fucking wet,” you whine, rolling your hips towards him, wordlessly begging him to touch you.

His hot gaze locks on yours, looking up from between your legs as his tongue drags up the middle of your sex. Just a tease. A taste. You ache with want.

“Fucking amazing, baby,” he breathes, and his gaze falls from yours as he gives his full, undivided attention to your cunt. His soft tongue starts rolling across your clit and you ascend to a different plane of existence. Those same molasses circles he drew all over your body, leaving a shiny trail of saliva to where he is now. Over and over and over again as he groans against you.

The throbbing of pleasure keeps accumulating, condensing, slowly and steadily pushing you to new heights. Your face gets flushed and sweaty as your heart pounds in your chest. You roll your hips against his tongue, trying to get more.

He rises to his feet and brings you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, cradling the back of your head with one hand as he pulls his sweatpants down with the other. His pants drop to the ground in a gray heap, releasing his thick, gorgeous cock. His lips capture yours with force, and he growls between messy kisses laced with your arousal, “See- how fucking- good you taste, cariño?”

"I love the way I taste in your mouth," you pant.

His thumb slides hard against your overly sensitive clit. The stimulation feels like an electric cattle prod to your pussy, sending your body bucking and shuddering. The pain is layered, though, and a deep want lays beneath.

"Please, baby," you whine, grabbing at his shirt and tugging at him, "I need you, please-"

You bite your lip in anticipation as the head of his cock nudges your entrance. His nose nuzzles against yours and he continues in a gravelly tone that ricochets down your spine, “Is that what you want, baby?”

Your lips form a pout and you nod, then gently thrust your hips against his, dipping him inside just enough to pull a rumble from his throat. The electric sharpness of his touch on your clit is overtaken by a wanton need for him to fucking destroy you.

“Yes,” you whisper, tilting your pelvis against him, “Fuck me, Javi.”

He slowly drives his hips forward at your admission, filling you, sending waves of pleasure surging from your cunt to the tips of your toes. A moan is ripped from your throat and you throw your head back. He starts to fuck you, pumping into you deep and merciless.

His lips find your neck again. He lays hot, wet kisses on the delicate skin. You run your fingers through his hair and gasp, “That’s fucking perfect, Javi, holy shit,” then tug at the front of his shirt, "Take it off."

He ceases movement, fully sheathed, and sits up, pulling the shirt off over his head. The shirt takes his new glasses with them and they clatter to the floor and he winces. You giggle at the clumsiness. The gentle jostling of your body around his cock trickles ecstasy into your center, and you gasp at the sensation.

A sheen of sweat glistens atop his skin and he's panting as he meets your eyes with a grin. He looks happy. And in love. You probably do, too, because that's how you feel. The way your heart swells almost fucking hurts.

You beckon him closer, and he follows, leaning in slowly to press his plush lips against yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching your back into him, digging your fingernails into his skin. He throbs inside you, making you gasp. His moan vibrates into your lips, and he starts pumping into you, faster, more frantic now.

The way you're huddled against each other, whimpering between kisses, reveling in the divine pleasure each movement, each touch, brings you both. As it always does, it feels like you were made for each other.

As if he can read your mind, he rasps, "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Javi. So- fuck- so fucking much," you pant, pulling his lips against yours again.

He moans in approval and brings his hands to your waist, trailing up your back to your shoulders. He gets a grip on you here and leverages you down on his cock as he thrusts forward, setting a brutal pace. Your whole body buzzes and tingles, and the kisses grow more desperate.

His hips snap into yours, bringing you up higher and higher as your muscles tighten and your body starts to quiver.

“Javi-“ a choked sob escapes you as you start to ascend towards bliss, “I’m fucking cumming- oh, fuck-“

"Fuck yes, cum for me, babygirl," he orders through gritted teeth, "Wanna feel you squeeze me-"

You come completely undone, overtaken with ripples of ecstasy from your center. Your legs clamp down around his hips as your body spasms, and you can hear Javi moan in response to the sensation, pumping into you with reckless abandon a few more times before he spills inside you.

Slowly, your muscles slacken and soften, but before you can release his shoulders from your grasp and lay back on the table, he whispers breathlessly, "Hold on tight."

"Wh-"

His hands move to your ass and you squeal when he picks you up. He carries you into the bedroom as you giggle into his neck, then you both tumble sideways onto the mattress.

"Oh, that's so much better," he groans and sprawls out.

You curl up into the crook of his arm, "You're the one that wanted to- nay, insisted that we- fuck on the table."

"Mmm," he hums and closes his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips, "Just wanted to eat your pussy for breakfast at the kitchen table."

This makes you laugh, loud and untethered, "Worth it?"

He chuckles and nods, eyes still closed, "Worth it."

There's a flutter inside your belly and you gasp, "Oh my god, Javi."

"What?" his body tenses and his brow furrows.

It flutters again and your eyes well with tears, "She's moving. I can feel her moving."

A dimpled smile stretches across his face and he sits up, placing a hand on your small, but still noticeable, baby bump.

"I don't know if you'll be able to feel her kick on the outside," you tell him softly, then chuckle, "She's only a papaya right now."

"That's ok," he mumbles, smiling down at your belly, "Little Miss Rosemary Peña will be able to kick my ass before I know it."

"Probably," you tease.

He grins at you and shakes his head, then lays back down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to cuddle you closer. A comfortable, warm silence embraces the two of you, and your fingers trail along his chest, his belly, his face. Writing love notes on his skin. He plays with your hair and watches you with love sparkling in his dark eyes.

You're home.

[ The End ]

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yourlocalartsonist · 8 months

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ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Eight

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MY GOD. I genuinely didn’t expect it to, chapter 8 was supposed to be way shorter but uh yk my brain didn’t like that apparatnly. So now it’s uh 10K words. I think it’s genuinely worth the wait and read tho so hey, alls well that ends well or something. I’m gonna try to be faster with updates now. I’m FAIRLY CERTAIN chapter nine will be much shorter or at least nothing crazy like 8 or 10k. But what I can guarantee is chapters 10-13 will most definitely be short and lead up to the grand arc finale of chapter 14. We’re getting pretty close to it and I’m literally vibrating from excitement but no spoilers. Anyway enjoy the chapter! :D

Credit to: @sweaterrat @sleepdeprivedbagels and @yosajaeofficial for being my beloved beta readers! This story wouldn’t be able to have the quality it does without them so please give them some love and check out their ROTTMNT stories too!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One

Disclaimer: Chapter involves depressive thoughts, mentions of bullying, depressed behavior, mentions of Kr*ng, PTSD behavior, violence, very lightly graphic description of injuries, blood, and curse words. If you’re sensitive to that stuff, scroll past and stay safe!

Outside the window, you can make out a bird’s nest sat in one of the trees. It’s been here for a week now, perfectly timed with when I got back to a consistent school life. But lately, the mother’s been staying at the nest more often. I’m guessing they’ve got babies on the way, she’s probably incubating her eggs right now. I think I’ve gotten attached to them, that small family of robins. The parents are so dedicated, aren’t they? The mother especially, never leaving the nest unless absolutely necessary.

On the contrary to my peaceful view, the classroom is noisy, hectic, and cluttered. No real science work for today so everyone’s just doing their own thing. Very loudly. Jaiden and Zane are chatting and laughing with each other next to me. I think things are better between us, I still don’t really know where Jaiden and I stand right now but at least Zane seems fine with me. Though I won’t lie, I’ve been feeling more and more like a third wheel around them.

“Dude! I’m telling you, we have to play this game together! We’d have so much fun!”

“I already said I would, Jaiden! Man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh like this. Shame you’re letting such a pretty smile go to waste.”

“Yeah? Let’s hang out more often then and maybe I won’t do that.”

Like right now.

Lowkey, I’ve been feeling invisible around those two. Jaiden barely pays any attention to me, it’s as if Zane was their best friend instead of me! I mean, I know friends can drift apart, I definitely know. But still, I never imagined it would happen to us. I still don’t wanna believe that’s what’s happening. I wanna keep hope.

“And ironically, you’re being pretty quiet today, Salena. Did you two switch personalities or something?”

“You are weirdly quiet, actually. What’s up?”

Oh lookie, I’ve been acknowledged. “Nah, you guys don’t have to worry about me. Just lower on energy than usual.”

I went back to my routine of staring out the window like the main character in a music video. In the reflection, Zane was still watching me. With the way his eyes lingered, I had a feeling he’s not falling for my excuse.

Seems like Jaiden’s not too worried, though. “Oh, Zane! You wanna hear about this new skate park I found?” Just went right back at it with Zane. Who’s weirdly still staring at me.

“…Actually, I’m kinda hungry. Jaiden, you mind getting me a snack from the vending machine?”

“Huh? But I wouldn’t know what to get you. N-not that I don’t pay attention to what you like! But, you know… Salena has better taste in these things! She should go-”

“She always goes.”

“‘Cause she knows what she’s doing.”

“Jaiden.”

“Guys, it’s fine! It’s fine. I’ve got this.” I didn’t want them to fight again so I got up from my seat. “Be back soon.”

Jaiden gave me their most gleeful smile I’ve seen them make in a while. I think seeing them smile makes this gesture worthwhile. Even if it’s just for a little bit.

The walk to the vending machine shouldn’t have been long, it’s not super far away. But my legs dragged on forcing each step to be slower than the last. I feel guilty thinking like this but a part of me wants this dumb walk to go on forever. I can’t stand being near them and I don’t know why! It’s not like we’ve got bad blood, they’ve both been normal towards me since I came back. So why am I acting like this? I’m seriously starting to doubt Splinter’s theory of me not being the problem here…

I approached the machine, stopping as I heard a struggling voice in front of me.

“Argh! How’d she say these things worked again?”

His finger pressed against the glass, tracing the code for the snack he wanted. He tapped the buttons on the screen. Nothing happened. Scratching his head, he leaned forward to read the next instructions. Finally, he pulled out a dollar bill.

…Before proceeding to insert it in the wrong way. And taking it out. And inserting it back in. And repeating the process. I can feel my soul exiting my body from second-hand embarrassment.

I recognized the fluffy black hair. With a crooked smile, I pulled out my own wallet.

“You’re supposed to put it in this way.” I slid my bill into the slot, the granola bar he selected successfully being pushed down soon after. “Good to see you again.”

“Woah, cool!” He stared at the giant food box almost with a childlike wonder, pausing for a few minutes before turning to me. “And hey! Yeah, it’s really nice seeing you again, too.” His eyes remained locked for a while before he scrambled to hand me the bill he had. “Here! Let me pay you back-“

“No, no, no, don’t worry about it! Really! Consider it my apology for, um, last time.”

“Apology? I mean, you weren’t the one doing anything weird so I don’t think you’ve gotta apologize.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Casey Jones Jr. I was gonna introduce myself the first time we met but, you know.”

“Salena Moni! So, how’s everything holding up? You joined pretty late in the year so if you need any help reviewing stuff I’m more than happy to.”

“Oh, don’t worry! It’s actually going alright. Still technically my first time going to a real school, so it’s a little bit of a challenge but I already knew most of the material anyways. I didn’t have to catch up on much.”

“Wow, that is… remarkably impressive.” If only I handled transferring as well as this guy. “Wait, hold up, real school? Were you homeschooled?”

“You could… say that. My uncle taught me everything, he was the smartest person I knew! Just turns out it was literally everything.”

“Cool! I guess we can check grades off the box, then! So, is everyone being nice? Made any friends?”

I bit my lip as I received my answer in the form of his face freezing mid-speech. “W-well uh…”

Oh, you poor thing…

I guess he could read my face since he immediately tried reassuring me, as if he wasn’t the victim in this scenario. “I-I mean it’s not awful! A couple people were nice to me, including you! Sure, some are a little… hostile. But it’ll get better eventually.”

“Y-yeah! It definitely… definitely will.”

And cue the classic awkward silence that stars in any first conversation. A little overdue for this one now that I’m thinking about it.

I’m so conflicted. I know damn well he’s not gonna have the high school dream he’s probably imagining right now. No one does. I may not have been at this school for long, but I’ve been here long enough to know how the people are. April told me it gets even worse every year as cliques start getting established and people grow past the initial politeness. I’m glad she did, she never kept anything about high school from me no matter how bad it was. Nothing was in my control but at least I knew it was coming.

And here I am playing the exact opposite role for Casey. I hate giving people false hope, I hate it with a passion! But I’m supposed to, I think. In a situation like this I’m supposed to hype him up. Ignorance is bliss! Wouldn’t it just ruin his spirits if I broke the glass?

“Anyway, it was nice to meet you! I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Y-yep! Hope things get better for you soon!”

“Me too.”

Ugh, the guilt is eating me up! I’m acting like I’ve never told a lie in my life but it’s not that. It’s his pure mindset that’s completely fucking with my morality!

I know to keep my mouth shut, I do. I don’t want him to hate me like everyone else does. I haven’t met someone who’s been so nice to me in this stupid ass school before, I don’t want to ruin this chance now that I finally got it. Plus, he might not even believe me…

I watched him turn to walk away.

Fuck it, social norms are for losers!

“W-wait! Casey?” He turned back around and I nearly shit myself from fear. “So, don’t be mad but I may have um… lied about something?”

“Uh, sorry?”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Well, here’s the deal. Things aren’t really gonna get better, sorry. Or, actually! I don’t mean that extremely literally, I guess...”

Focus on your hands, it’ll be okay. “Just… People here are mean. Really, really mean. You’re homeschooled, you’re new, and you’re nice. It’s a recipe for disaster here whether it’s today or even a year after you’ve settled in!”

I can’t even read his expression and get an idea of his reaction. He’s got a scary good poker face, I’m curious which relative taught him that one.

“Casey, please don’t take this the wrong way. I-I’m not saying any of it is your fault! Or that you need to change or do anything. I’m only saying this so you don’t have any… unrealistic expectations so to speak.”

God, his silence is more terrifying than anticipated.

So much so I couldn’t help letting out a quiet breath of relief when he finally did speak. “You know, you’re the first person here who’s told me that.”

“…Is that bad?”

“Not at all. All my family, they never got the chance to go to school. Hell, I didn’t think I’d have the opportunity. But here I am! First time in a new building with weird people and absolutely no clue what to expect. I’m usually good with surprises but this one is just so… different. Different is scary, you know?”

I nodded. I most definitely did know.

“Anyway, you’re right that people are just mean here. I don’t even know why, I mean, I’ve met my fair share of dicks before but at least they had good reasons! We were under so much stress… But that’s not what I hate. It’s the fact that any time I tell an adult, they say the same thing over and over again!”

“Let me guess.” I cleared my throat and enhanced the performance with my intoxicated Mrs. Doubtfire voice. “Just ignore them and give it time and it’ll magically fix itself ‘cause boredom beats bullies or some shit, right?”

“Yeah, exactly!” His laugh is like holding your parent’s hand when you’re getting the flu shot, it’s magical! “They say that to everyone, don’t they? God, what’s up with that? I’m so not used to adults lying to me.”

“Dude, what? You’re kidding, your whole community’s gotta be amazing if you’ve never been lied to by an adult.”

“Eh, more or less… Anyway, um, thank you. For telling me the truth. And the granola bar. I seriously owe you for this.”

…I take it back, Splinter might’ve actually been onto something.

I mean, he’s a little strange, I won’t lie about that. This is the first time I’ve heard someone actually be grateful for me telling the truth. In the past it either got me isolated or in huge trouble, depending on who I was honest with. Maybe this is why I’m so used to lying. I hate it but I’ve had to do it so much. I’ve never met someone who finally lets me relax about it, not until Casey Jr it seems.

Maybe he deserves me being a little braver for a change.

“Well, here’s a way you can repay me. By us being friends!”

…

This was a lot more epic in my head without his speechless pause. Maybe I got the vibe wrong-

“REALLY!? OMIGOSH! That would be so cool! I’ve literally been thinking about asking you the same thing ‘cause I keep wanting to talk to you but never run into you but now we can talk whenever we want, IT’LL BE GREAT!!!” Spoke too soon, he is literally shaking me by the shoulders. It feels unnatural not being on the other side of this scenario.

“Casey, my stomach doesn’t approve of this-“

“Sorry, sorry!” He finally stopped and allowed me to remember the pleasant feeling of absolute stillness. “I just can’t believe you actually wanna be friends with me!”

Still, his surprising enthusiasm gave me a good laugh. “Dude, it’s alright! It’s kinda more surprising you wanna be friends with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met in my entire life, anyone who’s friends with you is lucky to have you!”

Lucky to have me?

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, unexpected compliments go burn in a fire but also don’t leave, it actually feels really nice.

“Salena, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, I mean, all I did was buy you a snack and tell you people are jerks. I’m not too sure I should be receiving the title of the ‘kindest person you’ve ever met’ and stuff.”

“O-oh yeah, you have a point.” He got a little flustered at that, despite it really being my fault for not being able to take compliments. “I don’t know, I mean, I still think you’re really cool. I’m just so happy you wanna be friends with me!”

He looked like a child on Christmas morning as I tippy-tapped my number into his phone. Come to think of it, I know I’ve definitely reacted excitedly towards certain people - or turtles, I should say - but having someone do it to me? Feels kinda nice.

I looked up at the clock. “Shit. We should probably head back to class before we get in trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. But hey,” his eyes closed as the corners delightfully wrinkled “it was great running into you again! Fate really wants us to be friends.”

He has a really nice smile.

“Funny how life works, ay?”

I skipped my way back to class, mind too deep in thought to realize how fast I went.

This guy, Casey Jones, he’s giving me certain vibes. I don’t mean the creepy, stalkerish, "I need to get the hell outta here” vibes. More like deja-vu. I can’t pin what exactly, but something about him feels so… foreign yet familiar. Homey, if you may. Like a nice, warm fire in mid-winter night. It’s really soothing.

And immediately I’m thrown into emotional whiplash as I went back inside the annoying ass classroom of teenage chaos. So much for soothing vibes. I plopped back in my desk as Zane slowly scanned me.

“You took a while. Did you get my snack?…”

…Fuck. “Sorry! I completely forgot!”

“How did you forget when it’s the literal reason you even left?” Jaiden doesn’t seem as chipper as before.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I got a bit distracted. Gimmie a sec, I’ll be right back-”

“No, wait! It’s fine, I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Really? Okay, suit yourself.” I shrugged, getting settled in again. He leaned closer to me, both confused and concerned.

“You seem happier right now. Did something good happen?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess! Just ran into a new friend.”

His face scrunched up, going back to chatting with Jaiden. I have no clue why he glared when I said that, I don’t think I said anything wrong or alarming. Honestly, bro has worse mood swings than I do. It's seriously annoying sometimes but whatever, they’ve gone back to their little bubble now so I shall go back to mine.

I pulled out my phone, greeted with Casey’s excited text already.

CJ: Hey! Not really doing anything in class so if you’re free too, text me back :D

Smiling, I let myself get engrossed in my phone, happily typing away. He’s a fun guy to talk to. His enthusiasm and bubbliness is a little surprising considering how borderline timid he seemed at first. Goes to show, never judge a book by its cover! I felt my mood lifting, less gloomier than before.

Until I remembered something he said.

“My uncle taught me everything, he was the smartest person I knew!”

Was?...

***

Ah, midnight. A time when the mentally sane and emotionally stable would be sleeping. Turns out I’m neither of those folks, I’ve got better things to do. I have weapons now but I’ve gotta actually practice using them if I don’t wanna render them useless. Besides, in bed or out here, I’m not falling asleep either way. At least this serves as a good distraction! And won’t give me a headache like my phone will.

The blades cut through the air as I twirled them, striking at an imaginary enemy soon after.

I try not to think about life when I’m training, it distracts me too much. Sometimes I feel like Casey’s the only thing making school bearable anymore. We don’t share any classes so we text more than talk but I don’t have to do any mental gymnastics to figure out how he views me. I’m still confused as hell if Jaiden likes me or hates me and have no damn clue what Zane’s deal is anymore. He keeps staring at me. More than usual. Sure, I could always sit there and ponder for hours on end what the fuck is going on, but I doubt even that’d get any results.

The sickles, however, do show results. They feel lighter, smoother, easier to duel. I’m getting faster with them and my arms don’t feel as broken after training anymore! It’s something I can lose myself in, track the improvement. It’s so much simpler than everything else.

It keeps my mind occupied. If I focus on them, I don’t think about anyone from school or anything bad that’s happening! Or at least, I usually don't. I guess I’m thinking about it now, though…

“Someone’s training hard.”

“AHH!!!”

Immediately I jerked to turn and held up a blade in defense. However, it turned out to be a false alarm as instead of some midnight mugger I expected to see, I’m greeted with a smirking blue idiot standing in front of me.

“Woah, hey! I come in peace!” The stupid bitch held his hands up, mocking me with his fake fear. “Been a while, huh?”

“Leo? Oh god, you scared me! Where did you even come from?”

“The better question would be: Where did you disappear to? We haven’t gone out in like a week! You kept leaving me on read when I texted you but seemed fine in the group chat. What gives?”

“…I forgor?”

“Really?” I could tell he wasn’t satisfied by my answer. “You just forgot to respond to me? Every single time?”

“W-well sorta. I mean, it’s nothing you did so please don’t take it personally! It’s with everyone. I’ve just been a little bad at responding to dms…” My social battery’s been so low lately I question if it’s even charged at all. “That’s entirely on me, though! I’m so sorry.”

He crossed his arms and looked me up and down. He’s doing that nonchalant poker face again, the one he does when he doesn’t wanna be read, otherwise he’s an open book.

“You know you can tell me if something’s up, right?”

I guess he also does that face when he’s trying to read someone else. “Yeah, I know. I’m alright. It’s just… I dunno, things are a little weird but it’s fine. It’s really nothing to worry about.”

He hummed in response. I don’t really think he bought it but his eyes eventually drifted to my weapons, dropping the topic regardless. He must not wanna push it.

“Sooo, sick weapons! Where’d you get ‘em?”

“Oh, these? Draxum gave them to me!”

He gagged, interrupting me. “You met Draxum? The sheep guy? Oh, poor you! Was he awful to deal with? I bet he was! You know, like always.”

“Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad! A little grouchy at first but in his defense, I caught him in the middle of his shift, so.”

“Please, sheep bitch doesn’t need a reason to be a jerk! He’s just an old cranky loser who spends his days yelling at kids and smuggling whatever mystic bullshit of the week he found from the Hidden City! It’s giving Oscar the Grouch, just missing the lemon. Oh wait, that’s ‘cause unlike Oscar, he doesn’t even have one single thing that makes him uncharacteristically happy!”

“Wow, angry aren’t we?” It’s rude to laugh, but I can’t help myself around this dork. He looks like a kid who got denied an Xbox when he crosses his arms like that. “Leo, be real. This is because he threw you off a roof, isn’t it?”

“You know!? I mean-“ He laughed, trying to hide his poorly made lie. “What? Of course not… Maybe just a little but that’s not important.”

Leo grumbled on with some incoherent noises for a minute, before cooling down and moving on from the “sheep bitch”.

“Ugh, well anyway, if you got it from that moron, they’re definitely mystic or something, right?”

“Oh, absolutely! They’re actually super cool, I mean-“ For a good five minutes I kept blabbering on and on about the sickles and how they function and all my progress that I didn’t notice Leo - bless his heart - trying and horrifically failing to pay attention. He doesn’t really hide it well when he spaces out.

“And they- Uh, Leo, you good?”

“…Would you be mad if I said I got like, none of that?”

I sighed but gave a gentle smile. I knew he had a short attention span so I can’t really act like it’s his fault I forgot about that.

“Actually, do you want me to just like… act it out instead? I think I’ve gotten pretty good at using these so I don’t mind showing instead of telling!”

He shrugged “Nothin’s stopping you. Go on, impress me!”

Well, nothing except my nerves. But hey, it’s just Leo. If I mess up, he’ll laugh with me a bit and then I’ll just retry. No real pressure around him. I could use a progress check right now, anyway.

“Aight, so we only know two out of who knows how many powers for these things, they’re the only two I’ve been practicing. First up!”

I spun them around, careful to not mess up my handling. My goal is to form blades strong enough to crack a dent through the concrete edge of this building. So the sickles need to be made out of metal or steel. I usually go with metal but I do actually wanna impress him and steel’s stronger. I aimed at the edge and swung my arm forward, the sickle shot through the air and sliced through the concrete like a knife to a cake.

“OH SHIT!”

“I got it!” He teleported to catch the flying solo sickle and came right back within a matter of seconds. Oh, what I’d give to experience never having to walk again.

“Sorry about that! They’ve never broken the edge like that before!”

“Sorry!? You’re not allowed to be sorry, that was so cool! It went clean through!” I’ve never seen him gush about something this way. I’ve gotta admit, it’s kind of adorable. “Okay, I’m hooked! What’s the other thing it can do?”

“Invisibility! But I can’t do it for long, at least not yet. I made progress, though! Went from only three seconds to five!”

“Wait, actually, back up a bit. I get that Baron Ass told you how the sickles work and blah blah blah, but how’d you learn how to fight with ‘em? Ya know, the non-mystic aspects.”

“Oh, YouTube tutorials at first. But honestly, sickle fighting is mid so I did a lot of improv, really.”

He chuckled and eventually lost to his giggles as if me saying that wasn’t completely justified. “Did you just call an ancient form of martial arts mid?”

“Stop judging me, I’m right! Sickles were improvised weapons. They’re good for the last resort, not the first choice!”

“I’m not judging, I’m not judging! Promise! I respect it, even!” He leaned against the roof’s edge, gradually collecting himself. “But if they’re that bad, why didn’t you ask for a different weapon? One that’s cooler and not ‘the last resort’?”

Oh boy, where to begin?

I then explained how I essentially found myself wrapped in some “chosen one” bullshit through the sickles. They still don’t work any time Barry touches them but are perfectly fine in my hands. It’d be pretty dumb to pass up these weapons for a different one, even if sickles aren’t the coolest thing to own. Although, he’s definitely acting like they are judging by how intensely his eyes are staring at them. They’re sparkling brighter than I thought eyes realistically could.

“Well, now I’m offended! Mystic mystery sickles that do all kinds of glowy stuff for you specifically? How could you not tell me about these sooner!? They’re so amazing!”

“I know, I’m real sorry, Leon.” He’s joking around, his tone’s too light to be mad. But I do still feel bad for accidentally ignoring him like that. “Anything I can do for you as an apology?”

“Well…” His smirk revealed that thing was the main reason he came here in the first place. “We could make up for the lost time and go on a run together tonight. It is a weekend so you’d still have tomorrow and the day after to rest up. But hey, that’s just an idea…”

It's Friday again. Just like the first time we did this.

He held out his hand as an offer and I took it with a grin. “You make a convincing argument.”

And off we went, dashing through the night. It’s a bit humid today so the wind from sprinting so fast is greatly appreciated. Not to mention my speed is so much better than before!

The daily restrictions of civil life can go suck my dick and feed my liver to their uncles ‘cause oh my god nothing beats this feeling! No one else is here, no one who could stop us! Sure, jumping off roofs isn’t the safest way to have fun, but everything else in my life is already so safe! I’m allowed to have this one thing, this one moment to be free.

I’m so distracted that I didn’t realize I’m actually giving Leo a run for his money this time! Hehe, run. God, I’m so funny.

“Looks like you can actually keep up with me now!”

“I know, right!? It feels fucking amazing!”

Judging from his mischievous ass face, I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. “I don’t mean to burst your bubble but…”

A blue light appeared as a hole ripped in the sky and the lovely piece of shit went right through, appearing again somewhere way ahead of me. “I’m still faster!~”

“Hey! No portals allowed!”

“Uh, last time I checked, portalling is totally allowed.”

“Says who!?”

“Says me and I’m leader! Whatever leader says goes!”

To add insult to injury, he doesn’t just portal himself. As I’m trying to catch up to him mid-jump, the jackass opens a portal right under me, sending me back even further than I already was with no time to recover.

“Leo, you cheat!”

Bro’s giggling his ass off as he blinked in and out of sight. I’m no different with how sore my face is, so I can’t even pretend to be mad.

Instead, all I can do is try my best to speed up and catch up, plotting my revenge in the meantime. Easier said than done, that dude’s faster than the Flash right now since he’s, ya know, portalling. Doesn’t help that he keeps appearing right next to me every few minutes just to taunt me and disappear again.

A few minutes into our little cat and mouse game though, I lost track of him and he hadn’t shown up in a while to pester me. So, I started calling out his name, trying to look for him. You’d think it’d be easier to find a 5’5” giant, green turtle man but I guess they wouldn’t be ninjas if that were the case.

“Leo? Leo!? Le- Huh?”

I finally found him. But instead of the shit-eating grin he gave me earlier, he’s silent and still behind the edge of a roof, his back facing me. It’s starting to freak me out a little, he looks like he’s going fucking Blair Witch mode. No words, no witty remarks, nothing. Just ghostly staring at whatever the view is. Only thing I can see from here is a museum.

“Hey, Leon, you okay?”

“Shh!”

With his eyes still fixed up ahead, Leo took my hand and guided me forward. He eventually looked at me and nodded towards the street below us. Gazing in that direction, I saw a large purple truck with the logo of that one weird shoe store I browsed a few years ago. From what I’ve gathered these past few weeks, big trucks mean bad news.

But maybe that’s not what I should be focused on. Standing near the truck were two people, their skin an unnatural shade of purple. One’s large and brutish, the other tall and slender. They’ve got foot marks on their faces and flames on their bald heads. Exactly how Mikey described…

“The Foot Clan.”

He nodded. “I don’t understand, those guys were all turned into Krang during the invasion.”

Sorry, what? “You’re sure it was those two specifically? I haven’t heard about any cures or vaccines for the Krang victims on the news. It’d make headlines if there were.” I haven’t heard anything about them for a while now that I think about it.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He leaned closer to the edge, as close as he could get without getting caught. “They’re parked a street away from a museum, the hell are they up to now?”

I mimicked his actions, trying to hear the Foot people better. The slender one’s on the phone, sounding frustrated. He’s doing that whisper-yelling thing people do when they wanna be mad quietly to avoid societal shame.

“Yeesh, someone’s having a bad day.”

“You can hear them?” Why does he look so confused?

“Yeah, can’t you?”

Leo shook his head. “Whatever, what are they saying?”

I cocked my head to the side, spying in on their conversation.

His voice is scratchy, a little sore on my ears. “What do you mean you can’t get it off? Just bring the whole thing and hurry! We can’t risk alerting anyone!” Neither of us can tell what he’s referring to, unfortunately. The Foot dude avoids naming it.

I looked back at Leo scanning around for any clues. He stared at the back of the museum for a minute before his eyes widened. “I know where we are. It’s the Historical Society Museum. Donnie mentioned wanting to come here once.”

“I think I’ve heard of it. Isn’t there a lot of ancient stuff in there? Like, from centuries back?”

Nodded again. He’s being unnervingly quiet, considering it’s Leo. He stared at the clan, then at the museum, then back at the clan. He looked… scared. Scared in a way I’ve never seen him before. I felt my hand being subconsciously squeezed. I didn’t even notice he hadn’t let go in the first place.

…I have to help him.

I readied myself for whatever his idea was, no matter how outlandish or risky it may seem. “Alrighty, what’s the plan?”

“Right.” He hesitated, before gripping his katanas and turning back. “…The plan is for me to portal you home, kick some Foot ass, and pick you up so we can continue our run.”

WHAT!?

“What do you mean ‘portal me home!? I’m not leaving!” I was prepared for anything, but this!? “We just stumbled across the Foot Clan who are for some reason not freaky alien zombies and messing with ancient artifacts that do who knows what!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m sending you home before your adrenaline junkie ass can do something stupid.”

“And what makes you think I’d do that!?”

He held up my scarred left arm and stared at me unimpressed.

“…Okay, that’s a low blow even for you.”

Though as much as I hate to admit it, he kind of has a point. I sighed. “Alright, tell me. If I leave, will you at least call your brothers to help you out?”

“Yes!”

“Leo.”

“Fine, I lied.” The steel fucking balls of- “But still! I’ll be okay! I’ve gone against them plenty of times before.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re invincible!”

Before I could say anything more, I heard the sound of a truck starting up. I looked down and Leo followed my line of sight to see the Foot getting ready to drive.

Shit, they’re getting away!

“Okay, okay! Listen, I promise, I promise I won’t run off on my own and do something dumb this time. Anything the leader says goes! Just please let me join!” I can’t leave him alone!

I could sense him debating on what to do. His eyes look so conflicted, there’s definitely more than what he’s telling me. Nevertheless, I’m not budging. I don’t wanna sit at home being useless and worry the entire time.

He took a deep breath in, and let out a loud sigh. He looked at me with a defeated smile. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, fine, but you’re sticking close.”

Before I could celebrate too much, I felt the ground beneath me disappear into bright blue light. Not anything sudden, more gentle really. Even then, I felt disoriented with my feet going from firmly grounded to touching the air! Not to mention how light my whole body felt. Gravity did a complete 180 and I got flipped around, landing under the truck.

I nearly lost my grip but a hand on my back kept me in place long enough for me to recollect myself. Leo portalled us here.Well, obviously he did, it just caught me off guard again. It’s not really too bad going through his portals but it sure is a fucking trip when it’s unexpected. Either way, it got the job done.

They drove for quite a damn while. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience having to cling on to the bottom of a moving truck as the only scents to breathe in were that of oil and gasoline, but we probably looked super cool! My ears disagreed but oh well. They parked in front of a mall this time. Not just any mall, the fucking World Trade Center! We’re literally on the other side of the city, what on Earth could they need here?

I wanted to follow them in but Leo was against it. He said it’d be safer for us to spy from a distance for now so we went to the roof of a neighboring building, looking in at them. The Foot are on one of the higher floors, almost seeming like they’re scavenging for something.

Leo’s trying to figure out another way in for us. I still don’t understand why we didn’t just follow them. I know Leo’s not a total reckless nutcase or anything, but being this cautious felt a little unlike him.

“Hey, look, I don’t mean to shoot your own words back at you or anything. But you know you can tell me if something’s up, right?”

For a split second, he looked different. His eyes were dead, his lips shut and neutral. He stared at me but he looked so… lost. Empty.

And then his smile returned, face back to normal. Or at least what he convinced me was normal. I’m not so sure anymore. He flicked my forehead again. Even softer than the first time he did it. “Stop worrying so much! You’re gonna give yourself a chasm worse than Raph’s.”

I didn’t know how to take it from there. So I just watched him.

He eventually decided on portalling us into the building’s vent system. It’s a little cramped but was the only place we can eavesdrop without being immediately spotted. Though honestly, I don’t mind this one bit! I’m controlling the impulsive adrenaline ,however, he didn’t say shit about internal adrenaline! I can’t help it if stealth makes me giddy!

“Hehe! It’s like we’re in a movie!”

“Love your enthusiasm as always but remember to not get too caught up in it.”

I momentarily shoved my excitement to the side as we both tried listening in on the Foot Clan. The skinny dude, who I now know to be the Lieutenant, is barking orders at the rest of the soldiers scouting around while talking to the giant Brute.

“You disabled the cameras, correct? You know we can’t make it any harder for them!”

“Of course I did, it’s a no-brainer! Why’d ya have to ask it like that?” Woah, villain or not, his New Yorker accent is one to admire! “You know, sometimes I feel like you think I’m just stupid and nothin’ more.”

“Oh, don’t start now. Focus on finding good metal. The sooner we finish this the better.”

Hearing his raspy voice makes my own throat itch a little. I lightly clawed at it, trying to not make too much noise as I moved.

I leaned a little closer to Leo “What do you think they need metal for?”

“Not sure. Could be to make more soldiers or something? It’d be a cool upgrade from their paper soldiers.”

Leo’s tone seems a little lighter than before, I’m glad to hear him joke around again. “They could make paper soldiers?”

“Yeah! And they’re completely sentient, one of them even became besties with Raph! Anyway,” he pointed down at a handful of soldiers collecting metal artifacts “they’re probably trying to make those origami soldiers again with something stronger.”

“But how would you fold metal?”

“Beats me, Mikey would know more on this. He’s figuring out how to recreate whatever spell they used so we could get some help with patrolling. Word of advice though, salami origami does not work as a substitute.”

“No shit. Who’s bright idea was that?”

“...You don’t know him.” His guilty face says it all.

We were giggling a little too loudly, I suppose. One of the Foot dudes stopped and started listening for our voices again. He shrugged and moved on soon enough. I didn’t realize I was covering my mouth till I let myself breathe again.

“We should probably be a little quieter and take this stealth thing more seriously.”

I nodded in agreement. He’s not upset, honestly he’s struggling just as much as I am to choke down more giggles. It’s like we’re hiding under a blanket during a sleepover pretending we’re not awake in front of the parents and not in a likely life or death situation spying on the black-magic cult. I’m trying my best but it’s already hard enough to keep my adrenaline addiction in check and Leo being here makes it worse in the best ways possible.

Still, I don’t wanna know what happens if we get cau- What was that creaking sound?

CLANG!

It would seem those were not really sturdy vents.

You know that moment from the Ice Age sequel when the vultures surround the main cast with hungry, devilish eyes ready to feast on them at any given moment? Yeah, let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if the Foot Clan randomly bursts into song about “glorious food” full on broadway musical style.

“Uh… Hey, fellas! Long time no see, am I right?” Despite his demeanor, I caught the real reason he raised his hands. I reached back for mine as well.

A sheath of metal filled the air as Leo took his katanas out their case, perfectly timed with the Lieutenant’s new orders.

“GET THEM!”

“Run, hide first then get the stolen thingie if you can. I’ll keep ‘em busy!” Leo charged into the fight, holding them off to make sure they couldn’t get to me.

Unfortunately, there’s like a bajillion of them that can easily outnumber us. I’ve learned to be quite a slippery sprinter but even then two already managed to block my path.

Now would be a good time to turn invisible!

“Come on, come on!” I could barely get the sparks to even start spreading. Turns out stress is a huge fucking factor I neglected in my training.

I wouldn’t have minded if it just took a few seconds to work but the real issue was I couldn’t keep it working. I didn’t even really go invisible, just sorta flashed in and out of transparency for a few seconds! The only reason I haven’t gotten caught yet is ‘cause these two morons are too busy laughing at me.

“Is that really the best you can do!? Whoever you are, little girl, you’ve got your work cut out for you!”

“Oh no! She’s… she’s… blinking like an old flashlight!! We’re so scared!”

…BITC-

Resorted to traditional methods. I made the sickles the consistency of a metal pot and threw it at one of their heads, knocking them down. The other I kicked straight in the chest while they were distracted by their idiot teammate, also knocking them down. I’d love nothing more than to give some extra special attention to them but this old flashlight’s gotta run for the shadows while they’ve got an open chance.

A blue portal opened in front of me. “Hey Salena, so this fight’s a little more intense than I expected and I wanted to quickly check if you’re really sure about-”

“Leo, I’m fine! I’m not leaving mid-battle!”

“No, no, that’s fine! That’s great! Just a reminder there’s no shame in calling it- DUCK!”

Without hesitance, I dropped to the ground right as his sword swung above me to block one of the soldier’s attacks. Maybe I should let Leo handle this guy since I can’t really do much while laying on the floor. Then again, doesn't mean I can’t do anything. And also I don’t have good impulse control.

“OW!!! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

I bit on to his ankle as hard as I desired despite his pleading cries. I didn’t let go until Leo broke out of his shock and finally punched him unconscious. Fighting might actually be a really good way to get out my urges.

“Why-“

“Don’t. If it works, it works.”

I flashed a grin, got back on my feet, and bounced away. I need a better vantage point if I wanna find the stolen item, especially with the chaos over here. I quickly made my way up to the indoor balcony thingie. Terrance? The second floor? Whatever the fuck it is. I’ll have to admit, despite how absolutely pumped I’m feeling right now, it kinda feels nice getting away from the clusterfuck for a bit. I heard Leo still spamming all his dialogue options to keep the main two creeps occupied. Actually, I’m pretty sure I can see them from up here, too.

“So, you guys are looking great! Never thought I’d say this, but I am loving the old look making a return.” His hands did more tricks than usual, keeping his swords flowing like an intricate dance. There are multiple soldiers practically hounding him yet he’s fending them off almost gracefully.

“Can’t you stupid children stay out of our way for one night! There’s great evil being put on the hold right now for your antics!”

“Hey, speaking of evil, what’s with the normal amount of eyes? Not that I’m missing the other option but- GAH!”

And yet, even with Leo’s skilled moves, he’s struggling to keep up with the two leaders specifically. I deadass would’ve been slaughtered by now if I didn’t listen to him about hiding.

“We got some outside help. Now, stop askin’ annoying questions and maybe we’ll go easier on ya!” He swung his axe again, thankfully missing Leo.

I gotta wonder, from Mikey’s stories, they’ve fought the Foot Clan with ease several times in the past. Leo was doing fine just now, too. So why does it look like this could be his first time facing off the Lieutenant and Brute? Nobody’s perfect but I don’t think either of us expected him to lose his grace and become borderline clumsy against them.

Wait, no! Distractions! Leo can handle himself, I need to focus on my own task. Stolen thingie! But where the hell is it?

Just as I was about to think they left it in the truck like common sense would dictate, a soft, reflective red glow caught my eye. The moon was on my side tonight.

“There she is!”

Or maybe I was being too optimistic. In fairness, I should’ve known I couldn’t stay here for long.

It would be really fucking nice to turn invisible now. Sickles? No? Oh, okay, fuck me then I guess.

I hopped off the edge before they could reach me and slinked to the other side of the room, following the red gleam. Despite the sickles betraying me with horrific timing twice tonight, I got them to cover me long enough to reach the ruby ring the glow came from. The light bled past the folds of the drape covering their stolen prize. I lifted it to find a… weird mannequin bust? With arms. Decorated with several ornaments and jewelry including the ring. What the fuck are they using this for, a fashion show?

I flinched to the sound of a loud thud paired with Leo’s groan. Flipping my head behind me, I saw him cornered against a wall, swords shielding him from the Brute’s axes.

“Okay, either you two got a lot stronger or my body isn’t what it used to be.”

I gotta calm myself down, Leo’s a trained ninja and will likely be completely and totally fine! A tiny slip doesn’t mean inevitable doom!

…I hope.

I turned my attention back to the mannequin thing to mentally measure its size. I’m fairly certain it’ll fit inside my backpack, it’s not too big. Just gotta get it in now.

Another sound interrupted me. This time, it was loud metallic clanking off the floor. Leo’s katanas…

“On second thought, maybe it’s both.” His weapons were away from him, too far out of reach. His voice sounded weaker, arms wrapped around his torso.

Oh no.

Neither of them were holding back. As soon as he was down, they were practically hammering at him. His arms were up, defensively blocking his head. I’m supposed to stay away from this. I’m supposed to listen and focus on my task. But I can’t stop my body from turning when I see something like this happening.

He’s in the air now. I need to move. He’s being swung. I need to be faster.

“Let this be a lesson, turtle. Our battles have drastically changed.”

The window shattered from the force of his body.

“LEO!”

I don’t remember ever sprinting this fast, but I was out the window right after through the very hole he created. The height couldn’t scare me if it tried. My arm outstretched, I caught him with one hand and had my sickle in the other. Careful to not dare mess up my timing, it snatched onto a power line just as my blades turned to rubber, thick enough to not get us shocked from the voltage.

“N-nice… nice catch.”

“Thanks.” It’s harder to talk when I’m panting like a dog and trying to limit my shaking limbs.

His weight felt like it would rip my arms apart. I didn’t expect a giant muscular turtle to be light but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Still, some-fucking-how, I’m able to keep us both hanging from the wire, comprehending the fact that we’re not dead. Thank fuck for Raph forcing me to work out sessions.

“You, uh, you doing good up there? You’re breathing kinda heavily. Hey, heavily! Didn’t even mean to make that one!”

“Leo I will drop you.”

He convinced me to suffer a little longer and try to swing him, giving enough momentum for him to catch onto the side of the neighboring building. Then, I swung myself, Leo catching me to soften the landing. We scampered up to the roof, coincidentally the same one we were on a while ago.

“And literally back to square one. Fantastic.” He sighed, clearly annoyed by our failure. His attention quickly shifted once he noticed me rubbing my sore arms. “Hey, you okay? Want me to take a look at you?”

“Me? Take a look at yourself first, idiot!”

I’m not gonna pretend I’m not in pain, but it’s nothing close to the tragedies on his body currently. His arms are bruised and cut from the fight. One was actively bleeding with bits of glass still stuck in some places. Luckily it was the only fleshy place he took damage on, everything else was protected, albeit a little cracked.

“It’s… It’s fine. My shell took most of the hit, anyway.” This bitch. “Besides, I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

Despite his condition, he started walking to the edge of the roof, heading back towards the WTC.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To get my katanas back.”

“Oh, no, no, no, you are not going back in there! Can’t you just make new swords or something?”

“And help the foot by practically gifting them Hamato weapons?”

“You said they’re made from your magic! Shouldn’t that protect them from other people trying to use them?”

“I don’t know, we only learned about this ninpo stuff, like, last year! I don’t know enough to be sure nothing will happen if I leave them with the Foot. I’m not doing that.”

“Well, I can’t let you go back.” I stood in front of him to block his path. “We can figure something else out but you are not going back in there! Look at you, it’d be crazy!”

“I was crazy once-” My hand shut his stupid, smug mouth before he could complete the ritual.

“Leo, you were thrown out a window! You’re hurt!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I’ve been through worse! I’m just gonna get my swords back, that’s all.” He put a hand on my shoulder and threw on a fake smile to comfort me. The blood is literally dripping down his arm as he did, defeating the point. I looked back at his eyes, not bothering to hide how furiously concerned I am. If I’m reading him right, he’s not oblivious to reality. He’s a medic, he knows it better than I do.

He took a shaky breath in. “Fine, you’re right that I’m a little hurt. But we can’t waste time patching me up, I need to get my swords! Rule number one of basic survival is never let the Foot come into possession with highly mystic material ever.”

“Then I’ll go while you take care of yourself.”

“NO!” His head perked up as his eyes grew wider. He tried saving his initial reaction. “No way, not happening. It’s a safer plan if I go in, I’m more used to them” Safer for us or for just me.

“And yet, you got beaten to a pulp, isolated from your weapons, thrown out a window, and are now bleeding with shards of glass sticking out your body. Did I miss anything?” He’s neglected himself all night being overly cocky and confident nothing bad would happen to him. That’s what’s led to him turning out like this! “They didn’t exactly go easy on you, Leo-”

“Then imagine what they’d do to you!”

His brows knit together, staring at me, not blinking. I guess my wish was granted since he finally stopped disguising his true fear.

“Salena, please. Stay here, I’m going in.”

I almost let him go. Almost.

Too bad for him, I yanked him by the mask tails and pulled his stunned face back to face me.

“Hey, wh-”

“Alright, listen. I know whoever these guys are, they’re dangerous as fuck. I know I’m nowhere near as skilled of a fighter as you and I probably never will be. And I know I am way in over my head about this. But none of that matters to me.”

He kept quiet. So I continued. “What matters is that I’m your friend. Friends don’t let each other jump into losing battles, okay? You’re hurt, Leo. Please, just let me help you.”

I looked up at the sky. The clouds are covering the moon now and should stay that way for a little while. I could take advantage of the newfound darkness.

I stood on the ledge, mentally preparing myself to reignite the flames. Sure, I talked big about being able to handle myself and whatnot but I’m just trying to fool myself into thinking I’m not scared. If I can keep myself level-headed and use my sickles, I’ll be able to stay invisible for a short bit. If I play my cards right, that should be all I need.

I felt a hand grab my wrist. Turning around, I readied myself to once again reassure Leo I’d be fine but stopped when he put something in my palm. I recognize them, they’re tanto knives.

“Hey.” His smile is forced but not disingenuous.

“You’ve got this.”

So off I went with the last little push I needed. The cool night air feels fantastically refreshing on my skin. Every leap leaves me more confident I’ll succeed. I have to. He needs someone he knows he can depend on.

I scouted around and found an open window to sneak back in through. Judging by how crazy strong these guys are, my best bet is the element of surprise and for these oversized lethal boomerangs to actually work in my favor. Which they hadn’t before. But nothing’s ever hopeless. The reflection off the moon was their main source of light, with the clouds hiding it now and my knowledge of the floor’s layout, I think I might have a working plan this time.

I rushed over to the balcony I was at previously, this time being more cautious of any look-outs. There were three of them up here so I’m glad I didn’t choose the reckless route. I took my sickles out my backpack, breathed in, and turned invisible. A little harder to do since my nerves haven’t completely disappeared but it’s going smoother than before.

I snuck up to the soldier at the back of the trio, covering his mouth and dragging him to the dark, knocking him out shortly after. His two buddies were a piece of cake after that, hit one with a blunt-force sickle and take the other by hand at the same time. No one noticed a thing.

With the balcony cleared, I reclaimed my little sighting spot and looked over the entire floor, making note of every nook and cranny I could hide in. The clan’s focus changed since last time, they’re trying to get out as fast as possible. Seems like they’re taking Leo’s katanas with them since Lieutenant Itchy McSore-Throat was holding onto them.

“All of you hurry up! We must get out of here!”

I spotted the stolen mannequin in the distance. It’s actually not too far and surprisingly not removed. The two leaders seem distracted by someone. Perfect timing. I crept down and started taking out some more soldiers, listening in to the conversation at the same time.

“What about getting all the mystic metal we can?” That’s a new voice.

“Forget the metal, we’ve got enough for today. We need to leave or that turtle will bring reinforcements!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever makes ya happy, boss.”

“You better not be questioning my authority.”

“Our authority, he means. We’ve had your type before, and they grew to be traitors. I suggest you don’t test the patience of the Foot ‘cause it’s growin’ thin.”

“Nice phrasing! Even if you shouldn’t have interrupted me.” I can’t tell if these two have workplace tension or workplace bromance anymore. “But he’s right. You’d do well to remember your place, rookie.”

“Hey, I wasn’t tryna question anything guys. Just sayin’ maybe we should’ve planned this better in case we got caught.”

“So you may be right. We’ll keep it in mind but work on your delivery when it comes to criticism. Now quickly, go join the others.”

“Can I at least hold the magic swords?”

“No.”

She grumbled and left through the door, likely exiting the building. Her attitude was a pleasant surprise. I’ll admit, I kinda assumed all the Foot soldiers had brain-numbing levels of obedience.

The clouds were clearing up, though. The moonlight brightened the room back up, I can’t use the darkness for cover much longer. Alas, if only I knew how to use my literal invisibility powers for longer than a few seconds but you know what? This is genuinely perfectly okay. I’ve taken out enough of them to only leave a few left standing, not to mention the majority of them are already out the building. I gotta take these freaks head on if I wanna get Leo’s swords. No more hide and seek.

I let the light illuminate me.

“Hey guys!~” I waved gleefully as the Foot idiots finally noticed my presence. “Remember me? Hope it hasn’t been too long.”

“You!” The Brute turned to me first. “You’re the Hamato ally from earlier!”

“What are you doing here! Why have you returned!”

“You sure have a way of asking questions that makes them feel like statements. Anyway, I’m here to collect something you stole from my friend.”

He gripped the swords as he scowled at me. I held my own sickles tighter.

“You foolish child! You leave us no choice but take you out permanently.”

“Oh, really now? You and what army.”

I scoffed when I caught his expression change. Everyone looked at each other, noting how very few of them are suddenly in the room. So distracted they barely noticed me going for my first blow.

He quickly got ready to block me with Leo’s weapon, absolutely bewildered when I only zoomed past him and sliced at the leg of another soldier behind him. It wasn’t too deep but poor guy was still rendered useless. I dashed to my left at another soldier, dodging his attack and punching right up his chin.

“What’s going on!? Those sickles were dull the last time she used ‘em!”

“They must be mystic…”

“Right you are, Lieutenant! I kept them dull on purpose, my mistake.”

I threw a tanto at a cultist’s shoulder.

“You threw Leo out a window. I think you can bear to see some blood.”

One by one, I went around the room, sprinting past anyone chasing after me and immobilizing anyone with their guard down. I got in a groove good enough to keep myself progressing along while getting out my rage. I wasn’t kidding before, I would’ve kept my blades dull again. I’m still careful to not do anything fatal but I’m not gonna be exactly merciful, either. They deserve this.

Fighting felt like dancing, gliding across the room in an energetic fashion. I’m not crazy enough to go for the Lieutenant or Brute which ended up being a plus for me. They was more than ready to protect themselves, but not their team. At last, I got them all exactly where I needed them.

Alright, stay calm. Turn invisible no matter what.

My sickles shone with a pink glow, allowing me to disappear from their sight. I scampered past them, reaching the bejeweled mannequin behind them. It feels a little different? But there isn’t any concrete proof for this so my brain’s just tricking me. Whatever, no time to lose. I shoved it in my bag, getting myself used to the weight, and aimed a sickle at his arm.

“Where’d she go!?”

“Stay alert! Don’t let her catch you off guard!”

A bit late for that buddy.

My blade sliced through, leaving a massive gash on his arm. He screamed and dropped Leo’s sword. I ran through, catching it just as I became visible again. I snatched the other one as quickly as possible and sprinted to create some distance.

I held my arm up to my face, making good use of the wraps’ built-in comms. “Leo! Heads up!”

I threw a katana out the window, smashing the glass as it flew outside. I stopped in my tracks with a smirk. I knew we won.

I dodged the last attacks of the night, accelerating faster than I realized I could go. “Well folks, this was quite a fun match! Hope to never see you again!” Blue light sparked across my body. I leapt in the air, gave a quick peace sign purely to piss ‘em off, and bid my farewell.

“Toodles~”

Teleportation isn’t actually too bad if you know it’s coming.

The cool night air returned on my skin. I was floating for a few seconds before crashing to the roof on my knees. I didn’t even care about the pain, I was too busy enjoying the hug I received for my success!

“I DID IT! I FUCKING DID IT! WOOHOO!!!”

“Celebrations later, escaping now! Come on!”

Leo dragged me up and pulled us through another portal.

***

“We are the champions!~

“Gone with the losers ‘cause we are the champions!”

I handed another slice of pizza to Leo, half the box pepperoni for him and the other half plain cheese for me. We already dropped off the mannequin back to the museum and I gave an anonymous tip to 911 so now we’re simply chilling on the roof singing to celebrate our victorious night. I’m honestly still hyper as hell over it.

“I can’t believe we actually did it! I can’t believe I actually did it! Salena one, Foot Clan NONE BABY, FUCK YEA!”

“Man, I am so happy you came out okay. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you again.” He bit into the cheese, the least stressed I’ve seen him all night.

I couldn’t realize it earlier but that hug he gave wasn’t for my success. It’s clear to me now.

“Leo?”

“Hm?” He looked towards me as he bit into the cheese.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

He mirrored my smile. “Hey, we’re friends, right? That’s what I’m here for.”

The spring breeze feels so sweet. The view of the city is rewarding as always. A safe city, a safe night. I can see why they’re so into this whole hero gig. Everything about this moment feels absolutely perfect.

Buzz! Buzz!

I swear to god if my fucking phone’s gonna ruin it again. I quickly checked the notif to see if it was anything important. To my surprise, it’s Jaiden.

They sent me a text. The first one in weeks. It’s a dumb meme I saw earlier today.

We used to do this a lot in the past. Whenever we got into a fight, it’d be our way of ending it. We could never stay mad at each other for more than a day. In the past at least.

I guess this means they’re not mad at me anymore.

“Everything okay?” Leo stared at me, probably concerned by my change in demeanor.

I double tapped to like Jaiden’s meme and put my phone away, going back to normal.

“It’s nothing important. Just, uh, highschool stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”

He laughed “Oh, okay, well. I know I’m too fabulous to be the average, uncool, normal teen guy doing normal teen things like going to highschool that you want right now but…”

“If you ever need someone to lend a shoulder, you know who to call.”

He’s an idiot, but a very sweet one when he wants to be.

“Thanks, Leo, but I mean it this time. It’s nothing.” I raised up my slice to request a toast of some sorts. “Let’s go back to celebrating, shall we?”

He let out a satisfied chuckle, returning my toast. I didn’t wanna let anything ruin the way I felt tonight, even if their text tainted the vibe a bit. But hey, it’s technically a win, too! I got my confirmation that Jaiden and I are indeed still friends.

Though I gotta admit, I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be.

Next Chapter

#save rottmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #unpause rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt season 3 #rise of the turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt x oc #oc x canon #rottmnt oc x canon #nickelodeon #rottmnt moths fly in packs

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whumpwillow · 11 months

Text

Demon's Haven 13

💥Flashback chapter💥

a continuation from the last one

—

masterlist

warnings: blood, torture, past whipping, partial nudity (he's just not wearing a shirt), weird thoughts on purity and sin that isn't specifically mentioned as religion but pretty close

—

The blood ran freely. It didn’t drip, no, it poured out of him, streaming down his back. Envy felt he’d been emptied of all he was, that the wounds had opened up some part of himself that was now leaking out until all that was left was pain.

He didn’t know how long it had been since the angel had whipped him raw. He’d never been whipped before. He couldn’t think about any of that right now.

He struggled to draw in breath, shaky, slow. Every liitle movement of his body sent a jolt up through his muscles, pulling at his skin and the fresh wounds on his back. Long, thin stripes that trailed from his shoulders to his hips, criss-crossed over one another. Envy’s throat closed up, choking on air. He thought he might have still been shivering, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe he got tired of it earlier and stopped. He was so tired. He hung there in the chains, his knees sagging, his arms hanging in chains over his head the only thing keeping him upright.

He breathed in. Out. Wished he could open his eyes and be back at his House, away from any angels and torment.

Never so kind. The angel strode into the room holding a crystalline bowl filled with water, a white cloth draped over the side. Envy felt his heart beat faster in his chest at the sight of the divine being, as well as the burning in his eyes that it brought him. Even when it hurt to look directly at her, he didn’t want to look away and leave himself unsure of what might be coming. Would that be better, though, he wondered. To be oblivious, just for a moment? Envy swallowed thickly. No, he’d rather be prepared for what fate might bring him—or at least he could try and convince himself he was. He was a prince of Hell, not a common demon. He wouldn’t be made to submit so easily.

And yet, how he’d screamed. His throat felt dry and sore.

“I am here to clean your wounds,” the angel said, stepping behind him.

Envy snorted, the action sending a ripple of pain down his spine. “How nice of you.”

The angel leaned forward and brushed a hand over his cheek. Such a delicate touch, but it stung all the same. Envy couldn’t help the anger that rushed up from within him—how was that fair? How was any of this fair? The angels have the power to hurt us just by sight and touch and what do demons have? I want I want I want—

“You shouldn’t have such impure thoughts,” the angel crooned.

Envy jolted. “There’s no way—”

The angel shook her head, a slow and careful movement. “No, but you display them plainly enough.”

Envy clenched his jaw, glaring at the wall with indignation. He couldn’t see the angel from behind, but he would have shot her a look straight from Hell if he could. He’d never been very good at hiding his emotions, a skill he was often teased for by his brothers.

“I do not,” he ground out, unable to resist the urge to argue, even when he probably shouldn’t.

“Shh,” the angel said, dragging a finger over his cheek. It left a trail of burning on his skin in its wake. “You must release all that anger, hatred, and desire if you want to be made pure.”

Envy could hear the angel dip the cloth into the water and decided not to respond. He was grateful his wounds were being cleaned at all and didn’t want to make the angel do some other horrible thing instead if he said the wrong thing.

The angel touched the cloth to Envy’s back and every nerve in his body lit up with pain. Envy threw his head back and stifled a muffled cry, feeling as if the wounds were being freshly created—worse even. Fire became liquid and seeped into his bloodstream, flowing through his body and singing it from the inside. He was devoured whole. Diminished, disintegrated, dissolved. Only one thing could rend him so terribly as this.

Holy water.

The angel had brought in a bowl filled with holy water. The angel was using holy water—the antithesis to his kind—to clean his wounds.

“You can’t—” Envy began in a voice more desperate than he wanted, and was promptly shushed.

The angel circled around him and touched a finger to his lips. Still wet, it sizzled on the fragile skin. Envy made a muffled sound, but couldn’t even open his mouth.

“Oh, but I think I can.”

It didn’t hurt. Hurt was a mere word in comparison to what this was. Hurt was the feeling of being whipped over and over again, the lashes overlaid over fresh and weeping wounds. Hurt was the angel’s touch on his skin, grabbing him by the chin and forcing him to look upon her and bask in her stinging light.

Holy water was so far past mere hurt.

The angel wiped his back and every touch sent him jerking away but unable to escape. The water worked its way into his wounds, fresh and raw and awful. It filled his blood, his body, and all that he was and was not. He bit down hard, trying to cut off the sobs that wrenched from his throat. Worse than the whipping itself—to be burned at every touch, to feel such a gentle motion as the angel wiping away the blood but have it all be tainted by the fire that sought to consume him.

Envy couldn’t stand it.

And yet, he had to. He wouldn’t beg. He refused to. He was one of the proud lords of Hell, a demon prince, a capable ruler of his own and others’ territories. Even if blasted Pride got all the attention and accolades for his stupid plans, Envy was still better. He would never debase himself by begging for the angel to stop, no matter what she did. No matter how much it hurt.

The angel didn’t stop until all the wounds were clean, the blood washed away from his back and shoulders. Envy was left gasping for air, shivering once again.

He gave her a smile stained with tears on her way out.

—

(taglist in reblogs)

#whump #whump writing #my writing #willow writes #original work: demon’s haven #demon whump #demon whumpee #angel whumper #oc envy #the angel doesnt get a tag because she doesnt have a name yet kjhuhsm #religion tw

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welcometololaland · 8 months

Text

20 Questions aka. Oversharing on the Internet version 92840938

Thanks for the tag @rmd-writes - how did you know i didn't feel like doing work?

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

excluding the ones i've flagged for deletion (when i get around to it) - 46.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

972,000 and i'm going to hit a million by the end of the year! i have one co-written collab so we can subtract about 30k (ish) from that total (but with ALTA i'll still make a milly woohoo).

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Red, White & Royal Blue, 911 Lone Star, Top Gun Maverick (occasionally)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ah man this kills me because it excludes my most beloved fic (love game lol). in descending order:

Speak for Yourself (RWRB, my very first fic for that fandom! 2021 me in her study writing a random 3k first chapter could never have imagined being this lucky)

The Ring-In (with @dustratcentral) (911 Lone Star, this fic makes me feel like my Tarlos writing has gotten worse instead of better lmao)

Fifty First Dates (RWRB)

(Not) A Cinderella Story (RWRB)

Cursed is a State of Mind (with @dustratcentral) (RWRB, just about to hit 1k! there's something magical about an ifyoustay collab apparently)

jeez i never realised how RWRB heavy that is...

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. You put in the effort to comment on my work, I'm gonna put in the effort to reply to you. I appreciate comments so much, even if they're just emojis or one line or whatever. I appreciate every single one of them (except the mean ones).

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't usually go here, but I think it has to be Contaminated (RWRB).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

99% of my fics have happy endings (except for the fic above lol) but I'd say the happiest ending is in (Un)Professional Services because they're So. In. Love. and they just *spoiler* together and they're about to *spoiler*.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Rarely and I usually ignore it or delete it (so there's no point doing it).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

A Lot. Usually served with a heavy side of feelings - I like it when the smut drives the plot, when it helps the characters have those Oh Shit realisations. I'm also a sucker for explicit, enthusiastic consent.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written like 30% of a RWRB/Lone Star crossover that may never see the light of day because I keep forgetting about it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I don't know about it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've had a few of my fics translated by incredible people! Phonography, Warm Whispers and Baby, Make Your Move have all been translated and can be found above. I'm fine with people translating my fics, so long as they're linked to the original and remain on ao3.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes and I love it. I want to do it more often! @rmd-writes collab was an amazing experience. i've also loved working with @dustratcentral on so many of my more unhinged works.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I don't think I can choose between Alex/Henry and TK/Carlos.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably that damn crossover, unless there's like significant interest in me finishing it lmao.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oh no. giving myself a compliment help. I would say worldbuilding. dialogue/banter. gratuitous feelings during sex.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

exposition. being concise. overwriting to the max @three-drink-amy (this is an attack on you as well but we are we).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i've done it before but to be honest i'm scared to. 1) i don't want to get it wrong. 2) i don't want to annoy my very talented friends that can speak other languages by asking them 10 billion questions lol.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

...I plead the 5th.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Love Game. I don't care that it's not as popular. it's my child. Also, ALTA (because of the many tears that went into it). We are bonded by trauma.

open tag on this one and also calling: @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @goodways @iboatedhere @wandering-night19 @birdclowns @liminalmemories21 @indomitable-love @clottedcreamfudge @sherryvalli @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @theghostofashton @orchidscript @lemonlyman-dotcom @kiwiana-writes @freneticfloetry @sunshinestrand @nelsonnicholas @tailoredshirt @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @lightningboltreader @hippolotamus @dumbpeachjuice @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @louisii-reyes-strand @beautifulhigh @athousandrooms @villiageidiot @inflarescent @marjansmarwani @safeashousespdf @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sanjuwrites @lilythesilly @kiloskywalker @noxsoulmate

#20 questions #personal #tag game #finally early on a tag game what is going on!?

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dystopicjumpsuit · 7 months

Text

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 13

As the Wind

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 3.6k

Warnings and tags: suspense, some action, temporary hearing loss, Star Wars swearing

Suggested Listening:

Summary: The team undertakes an extraction mission, and Cerra sees a familiar face.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves in a field

Behaving as the wind behaves

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

Cerra’s contact network finally came through with a ship that satisfied all of their requirements for the Balmorra mission: an old mining vessel with an auxiliary leech. It didn’t have the speed or firepower they needed, but retrofitting it with upgraded thrusters and weapons would be fairly straightforward.

In a stroke of pure, unadulterated bad luck, the ship’s availability coincided with Cerra’s mission to Raada, which meant that Gregor and Rex were unable to provide backup on the operation. Gregor had been distant since their ill-fated excursion to the market, apparently unreconciled to Cerra’s decision to go ahead with the mission. Fireball and Echo accompanied her instead.

En route to Imperial military HQ, she changed into the scratchy wool officer’s uniform she’d “requisitioned.” Rex had taken a single look at it and declared that he didn’t want to know how she got it, which was probably for the best. The captain was willing to do whatever it took to get the job done, but he still balked at some of Cerra’s shadier dealings.

“Eyes front, trooper,” Echo barked.

Cerra turned in time to see Fireball snap to attention and stare fixedly out the front viewport with a guilty expression. She finished dressing quickly and went to stand behind Fireball’s seat.

“You need to get out more, buddy,” she said, punching his armored shoulder lightly.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” he replied stiffly.

She laughed, and he relaxed as his expression turned sheepish. “Been a while, has it, soldier?”

Fireball mumbled something about entire life under his breath, but Cerra opted not to torment him any further. The plan was for Echo to drop her off far enough from HQ that she wouldn’t be spotted leaving the ship. She would walk the rest of the way to the base and pass through security with a forged chain code that Echo had provided. Once inside, she would make her way to the Raada transport. Echo had also created a set of fake orders in case anyone questioned her presence.

She had spent the past week practicing a supercilious glare. Fireball had coached her on it, reminding her to treat the clones as subhuman if she wanted to escape detection. She hated it as much as she hated the kriffing itchy wool uniform.

“Tell me one more time what his armor looks like?” Cerra asked Fireball.

“You can’t miss it,” he grinned. “I painted it myself.”

He launched into a detailed description of Nemec’s exuberant armor paint job, complete with the story about how he convinced Nemec to let him do it in the first place.

“I’m surprised your armor isn’t flashier,” she said.

Fireball shrugged. “It was better camouflage on Kashyyyk. And then… I didn’t want to paint over it. Not when it reminded me of the commander.”

Cerra squeezed his shoulder in consolation, and they lapsed into silence. As they approached the drop zone, she felt a swirl of nervous anticipation in her stomach.

“Comms will be jammed as soon as you pass through security, so you won’t be able to call for help if anything goes wrong,” Echo said. “We’ll be monitoring chatter, but we can’t hear everything.”

“Let’s hope nothing goes wrong, then,” Cerra said. “I guess I’ll see you boys on Raada in three standard rotations. Wish me luck.”

Echo grunted, and Fireball just stared at her with wide eyes. She snapped to attention and gave them a textbook salute.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“Like you never left,” Echo said.

Cerra pulled a face, then turned and headed for the back hatch of the ship. Before she could reach it, a hand closed around her elbow, and Fireball spun her around into a crushing hug.

“Thanks, Cerra,” he whispered.

She hugged him back and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to get your brother back, Fireball. I promise you.”

He gave her one last tight squeeze, then lowered the ramp. She walked out of the ship and immediately ducked down an alleyway, following it to the opposite side of the block, and then turned and walked briskly toward HQ. She passed the First Battle Memorial and joined the security queue at the main entrance.

Her heart began to pound as the queue slowly advanced. She kept her face carefully neutral and focused on controlling her breathing. By the time she reached the front of the queue, her hands were sweating inside her gloves, but they were steady enough as she presented her counterfeit chain code for inspection.

The TK trooper at the gate barely glanced at the code before waving her through. She walked calmly through the entrance, trying not to think that she was about to lose all contact with her squad. She fought the urge to gawk at the changes to the base since she had last been there. At that point, it had still been the Republic Center for Military Operations. Still, not so much had changed that she couldn’t find her way around, and she headed straight for the airfield.

“Lieutenant Kilian?” an unmistakably clone voice asked.

Cerra nearly turned, but she caught herself just in time and kept walking, not acknowledging the question. Her mouth went dry, and her pulse hammered in her ears. Just keep walking, just keep walking.

A hand grabbed her by the elbow, exactly where Fireball had caught her only moments before. She spun around to face her assailant, and her stomach dropped with dread as she recognized his 501st-blue painted armor.

“Cerra Kilian?” the clone repeated.

Nax, she realized. She would recognize that hairstyle anywhere.

“You’re mistaken, trooper,” she said, meeting his eyes and blatantly lying. “I’m Lieutenant Marchon.”

Nax froze, his hand still gripping her elbow. He knows. I’m going to die. She could feel the tide of panic rising in her chest, and she fought it down, remembering at the last moment to assume that haughty expression that Fireball had taught her.

“My mistake,” Nax said, releasing her arm. “Sorry, lieutenant. I thought you were someone else.”

Cerra straightened her uniform and tried to think of a response. What would a scughole Imp say right now? Something condescending and awful. Think!

“You can go about your business, lieutenant,” Nax said. “If you see Lieutenant Kilian, tell her I said hello.”

“Quite,” Cerra stammered. “Thank you, trooper.”

He nodded shortly, then turned on his heel and left. Cerra continued her rapid journey to the airfield, lightheaded with relief. She didn’t know why Nax hadn’t reported her, but she wasn’t going to stick around and find out. She hurried down the row of transports until she located the one she needed, keenly aware that at any moment she could be apprehended, and she would have no way of contacting Echo to let him know. If it happened, she would likely be dead before they ever discovered she’d been caught.

She showed her forged orders to the trooper guarding the transport, and he waved her through. Inside, she found a mixed force of clones and TK troopers. She appeared to be the only officer on board, which only made her stand out more. She kept waiting for the soldiers to turn their weapons on her, but it never happened. The last few troopers boarded, the ramp closed, and the transport launched.

Nax never called it in.

The troopers were eerily silent as the transport jumped into hyperspace with a shudder. There was no banter, no laughter, no speculation about their assignment. Just soundless, blank helmets, devoid of color or individuality. The clone troopers sat separately from the TK troopers, as though an invisible ray shield prevented them from commingling. It was going to be a long three days.

The Imperial base on Raada bustled with activity. More transports arrived each day, and though the buildings were prefabricated and lowered into place from a Star Destroyer, a huge amount of work still needed to be done to get the base fully supplied. Cerra had been in dozens of bases with this exact layout, so at least she didn’t have to worry about getting lost.

In fact, the commotion around the base could work to her advantage, as Nemec’s absence would be less noticeable amid the throngs of new arrivals. All she had to do now was locate him, convince him that she wasn’t an Imperial spy, and get him out. The first step shouldn’t be too difficult; Nemec’s flamboyant armor paint job would definitely stand out in the crowd of shiny TK troopers.

She headed for the mess hall, figuring it was as good a place to start as any. He wasn’t there, so next she checked the barracks, only to come up empty again. She fabricated an excuse to inspect the walker bay, and didn’t find him—though that had been a long shot. It occurred to her that she could be missing him by mere moments, but she couldn’t very well start asking random troopers if they’d spotted a clone in stunning green armor wandering around the base.

As the putative supply officer, she’d been allocated a small office, so she holed up inside it while she planned her next move. It would make the most sense to stake out either the barracks or the mess; at some point, Nemec would need to go to both of them. Her stomach rumbled, making the decision for her, and she headed to the mess hall.

There were a few officers inside, as well as several troopers. Once again, she noted that the clones sat apart from the TKs. She picked up a tray and moved through the line, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia as she ladled the unidentifiable beige sludge onto her tray. She found a seat with a clear view of the mess hall entrance. She sat alone, knowing that she would draw attention if she were the only natborn to sit with the clones.

As she ate, Cerra observed the strange dynamics of the room. Obviously, the clones had their own territory. The TK troopers had claimed a sizable chunk of the room as well. But what surprised her was that none of the officers sat with the TK troopers. They either clustered in small cliques or sat on their own as she did. It seemed that the Imperial hierarchy was much more rigidly enforced than it had been under the Republic.

She ate as slowly as possible, prolonging her surveillance of the mess, but at last, she could delay no longer. She dropped her tray at the bussing station and headed back to the hangar. If it took her much longer to locate Nemec, she would need to get her office set up to maintain her cover.

She rounded a corner and nearly collided with a group of troopers. As she stumbled backward, one of them reached out to steady her.

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t see you there,” he said in a familiar voice.

Clones, she realized as she took in their armor. This group all had painted armor instead of the shiny white plastoid she’d mostly seen so far. She scanned the group for one in green, but didn’t see the unmistakable design Fireball had described to her.

“It was my fault,” she said. “I wonder if you could help me find someone, though?”

“Depends on who you’re looking for,” the trooper said.

“I’m trying to get my office set up, and I was told to ask for help from a clone trooper in green armor with a yellow—”

“That’d be Nemec,” a second trooper offered. “I think I saw him headed out for a patrol, but I can comm him for you.”

“Unless you’d prefer my help,” a third trooper said in a flirtatious tone as he shouldered his way to the front of the group. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

Cerra bit back a laugh. “I’m flattered, but I think it would be best if I just go with the trooper assigned to me. I don’t want to risk scugging off the base commander the day I arrive.”

“Too bad,” the trooper replied. “If you change your mind—oof!”

The first trooper elbowed him in the ribs, hard. “She’s not interested, Crusher. Take a hint.”

“Nemec is on his way, sir,” the second clone said. “Where would you like him to meet you?”

“The hangar, please,” Cerra said, knowing that she was failing miserably at impersonating the cold, arrogant Imperials that Fireball had described.

“Do you need an escort?”

“I can find my way, but thank you for the offer, and for your help,” Cerra said, excusing herself.

She continued toward the hangar, keenly aware of the clones’ eyes following her. She forced herself to maintain a steady pace, though she wanted to break into a run. Finally, she turned another corner and was out of their view. She hurried the rest of the way to the hangar and arrived just as Nemec pulled in on a BARC speeder. Troopers milled about, unloading and stacking crates from the transport. She spotted a small bank of V-wings and hoped they wouldn’t be an issue during the extraction.

“Are you the supply officer?” Nemec asked as he dismounted.

“Yes, and you must be Nemec,” she said.

He nodded shortly. “Show me what you need.”

He did not sound thrilled to meet her, and she couldn’t blame him. He was an elite warrior, reduced to running menial errands for pampered officers. She showed him the crates with “her” gear, then led him to the office she’d been assigned. Once inside, she closed and locked the door.

Nemec whipped around, startled. Cerra raised her hands to show she meant him no harm.

“What kind of game are you playing?” he demanded, looming over her.

“Fireball sent me,” she said quietly.

Nemec went unnaturally still. “Who’s Fireball?” he asked cautiously.

“He said to tell you that the netcasters weren’t the worst thing about Kashyyyk.”

“It was the mud,” Nemec replied. “Who are you?”

“My name is Cerra Kilian,” she said. “I’m here to get you out.”

“Kilian?” Nemec asked, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t suppose you know—”

“He’s my uncle,” Cerra said. “When can you be ready to leave?”

“Now,” Nemec said immediately. “What’s the plan?”

“We need to get away from the base and meet up with Fireball and the rest of my squad at these coordinates,” Cerra said, displaying the rendezvous point on a small holoprojector. “Do you think you can get a BARC speeder without being noticed? It took longer to find you than I’d hoped, and we’re on a tight timeline. We’ll stand a better chance of making the rendezvous if we don’t have to go on foot.”

“I can get the bike, but it’ll be trickier to get away from the base without being spotted. They’ll notice a passenger. Unless you can come up with a convincing explanation, they’ll shoot us down.”

Cerra pondered the conundrum. “What is the Empire even doing on Raada?”

“Growing some kind of engineered plants for rations,” Nemec said.

“I can work with that,” she said. “I’ll say that as supply officer, I have been ordered to supplement the base’s rations with the local produce, and I’m conducting an inspection.”

“Which you’ve ordered me to assist,” Nemec said. “It could work. I hope you’re good at banthashitting.”

“I don’t have to banthashit; I was a supply officer for thirteen years,” Cerra said. “I can throw so much technical jargon at them that they won’t know if I’m even speaking Basic.”

“If you say so,” Nemec said doubtfully.

“I do,” Cerra said. “And one more thing: as far as the Empire knows, I’m Lieutenant Marchon. Let’s get going.”

They returned quickly to the hangar, and Nemec mounted the speeder as Cerra climbed into the sidecar. As he had predicted, the guards at the main entrance of the base ordered them to halt.

“Where are you taking this officer?” a TK trooper demanded.

“I’ve been ordered to take Lieutenant Marchon to the settlement to inspect the farms,” Nemec said.

“Under whose authority?” the trooper asked.

“Admiral Coburn,” Cerra replied in the most condescending Coruscanti drawl she could summon. “When he assigned me to Raada, he ordered me to supplement the base’s rations with the produce we grow locally. Would you care to ask him yourself?”

“No, ma’am. Proceed.” He waved them through the gate.

“Not bad,” Nemec said once they were safely out of earshot.

“It wouldn’t have worked on a clone,” Cerra said. “Lucky break.”

Nemec steered them toward the settlement until they were out of view of the base, then brought the bike to a halt.

“The speeder has a tracking beacon,” Nemec said. “We’ll need to take it off, or they’ll be able to follow us to the rendezvous.”

Cerra checked her chronometer. It was going to be close, but they would make it in time, assuming nothing went wrong. She hopped out of the sidecar and searched for the transmitter.

“Kriff, it’s hardwired in with a kill switch,” she said. “If I take it off, the bike won’t start.”

“What are we going to do, then?” he asked.

“Head toward the settlement. We’ll ditch the bike there and go the rest of the way on foot.”

“Won’t that put the farmers at risk once the Empire discovers we’re missing?” Nemec asked.

“Fine,” Cerra sighed. “We’ll get closer to the village, then I’ll sabotage the bike. It’ll look like an accident. Hopefully, the explosion will be big enough to explain the lack of bodies.”

“Oh, I can help with that,” Nemec chuckled, handing her a thermal detonator.

“That’ll do it,” she said.

They remounted the bike and sped toward the settlement. When they were about three klicks away, they stopped again, and Cerra quickly yanked a few wires. She set the detonator on a timer and started the bike.

“Start running,” she said, jamming the accelerator.

The bike zoomed away, shuddering violently. She sprinted after Nemec, and within seconds, the speeder engine sparked violently and exploded. The detonator went off immediately after, and the shock wave knocked her to the ground. Her ears rang as she struggled to get up. Nemec doubled back and yanked her to her feet. He shouted something, but she couldn’t make it out over the high-pitched shriek in her head. Without waiting for a response, he took off running, dragging her behind him as she stumbled.

“—have to move!”

His voice was muffled, and she shook her head to try to clear it. It didn’t work, but she jogged after him regardless. Nausea rose in her belly, but she tamped it down. Her breath was harsh, and her lungs ached. Run, Cerra. One foot in front of the other. Keep going.

They ran until they reached an outcropping of rocks that provided some cover, and Nemec finally slowed.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, breathing hard. At least she could hear again.

“Good,” he said. “We still have a long way to go, so we need to keep walking.”

“I am walking,” she said irritably.

“Walk faster,” Nemec said.

As much as she wanted to snap back at him, he had a point, so she picked up the pace. “We can still make it,” she said. “The bike bought us some time.”

They walked for hours, carefully rationing the small amount of water in Nemec’s canteen. Cerra stripped off the stifling wool uniform jacket and tied it around her waist. Her undershirt was soaked with sweat from the hot sun, and soon she was covered in a fine film of dust that clung to her damp skin. Silently, she cursed her karking uncomfortable boots. They were made for sitting at a desk, not trekking across rocky terrain.

She checked her chronometer. We can still make it.

“Will they scramble the V-wings if a ship enters the atmosphere?” she asked.

Nemec shook his head. “I don’t think their surveillance is that advanced. That’s why they picked this system; nobody comes here.”

“Security was pretty tight at the base,” Cerra observed.

“We’ve had a little trouble with the locals. Some of them objected to the Empire ordering them to torch their own crops and grow ration plants instead. Can’t imagine why,” Nemec said drily.

His voice sounded deeper than Fireball’s, more like Rex, and Cerra wondered how old he was.

“Were you and Fireball batchmates?” she asked curiously.

He turned his head to study her before he answered. He still hadn’t removed his helmet.

“No,” he said. “We met when I was serving under your uncle. Fireball was just a shiny. Didn’t even have a name yet. His whole batch got wiped out by a vulture droid in his first battle. Poor kids never saw it coming. Fireball ran toward the explosion to try to save them, but they were already gone.”

“Is that how he got his name?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “How’d you get mixed up in all this?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” she said.

“You said you’d been a supply officer for thirteen years,” he pressed.

“Corellian military defense force,” she said. “Then GAR.”

“Not Imperial army?”

“Not so far,” she said.

“I knew you were too nice to be one of them,” Nemec said.

“Fireball will be disappointed to hear that. He spent the last week coaching me on how to be a scughole to clones.”

“Your mistake was treating us like humans,” Nemec said. “Wouldn’t want anyone to see you doing that.”

“I guess I’m just not cut out to be an Imperial officer,” Cerra said. “There goes Plan Besh.”

“I’d say don’t quit your day job, but I don’t know what that is,” he said.

“Is treason a day job?” she asked. “It doesn’t pay much, but I get a lot of satisfaction out of it.”

Nemec laughed, the sound harsh and distorted by his helmet. “You’re not so bad, Lieutenant Traitor.”

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