#And I gotta do this shit for Pandemonium too...

[planetarythorns]

Tiering is going just great (SEND HELP IM IN PAIN)

If I have to hear hitorinbo envy ONE MORE TIME

[liquidstar]

Regulus- 🎈 🚨

Kari-🧣🥀

Ceres- 🐞 🍎 🎒

(And bonus if you’re up for it I’m also curious who all three would have on their kin carrd in the extreme hypothetical they’d kin because that’s ALWAYS fun to think/hear about with OCs)

This one ended up being kinda long so I'm putting it under the cut :D!

🎈 (balloon) - What does your character do at parties? Are they a wallflower or a party animal? Do they go with friends or alone?

I don’t see Regulus going to, like, normal parties. Like, he’s going to galas and shit instead. He’s social, striking up conversations with people while swirling a glass of wine or champagne in his hands. HOWEVER the exception to this is guild parties, because, well, he’s already there. I think he’d try to act the exact same way but with a red solo cup filled with spiked fruit punch. It kinda works.

🚨 (siren) - What’s your character’s relationship with the law? Have they ever been arrested? What for? What are their opinions on law enforcement?

Well, Nova Stella as a guild does do some under-the-table stuff, so Regulus not against breaking the law. But he himself doesn’t really see a need to do it, so he doesn’t. He’s a rich dude, but he’s not corrupt, so he has no real incentive to do crime. General guild opinion is that knights have mile-long sticks up their asses, which he agrees with but he also doesn’t really have any more complex thoughts on.

🥀 (wilted flower) - How does your character deal with stressful situations? Is their fear response fight, flight, freeze or fawn?

Oh, if it’s an immediate threat, absolutely flight. I mean, Kari is a speedster for a reason. Her first instinct would be to run away, because that’s what she does most of the time anyway. But for a more personal threat, something wrt relationships or general hardship in life… She might go for fawn instead. She’s very much a person who wants to be liked by others, but is often seen as annoying for being too hyper. Luckily the Pandemonium weirdos accept her, but if not for that she may have ended up repressing that.

🧣(scarf) - What comforts your oc? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how and why does it comfort them? 

The most comforting thing in Kari’s life is several bottles of Manic Panic hair dye. Very important for the scene kid.

No, but in all seriousness, she just finds comfort in being with people who don’t mind her quirks. I think for all the members of Pandemonium that’s true- The comfort is the guild itself, the place with the people in it.

🐞 (ladybug) - What does a perfect day look like for your oc? What do they do? Who do they see?

On an ideal day, Ceres would just like to relax. A day where all the scouts are behaving, doing quiet activities, not arguing or causing trouble. This has yet to happen though, and most likely never will. A quiet walk in the woods will have to suffice for now.

🍎 (apple) - Does your oc go to school or take classes? Did they go to college? What was/is their favorite subject? Did/do they get good grades? Did/do they enjoy school? 

Ceres was a timber scout themself at one point too! It’s basically a program that trains you to be in a guild, though some people stay to work within the scouts too. Ceres working as a leader of their own unit means they must have done pretty well! Dealing with kids is a different story though.

🎒 (backpack) - What items does your oc usually carry? Do they have a bag or just keep everything in their pockets? Do they carry a lot or a little?

You can already see their weapon of choice is a large swiss army knife! It’s useful for any scout leader, of course. Beyond that they’ll carry things to be prepared for different situations, like first aid supplies, a sewing kit, sunscreen, bug spray, water, snacks, etc.

Who would be on their kinlist?

OMG LOL I’ve never thought about this before. I’m not sure!!! I can definitely say Homare A3 was a huge influence for Regulus’s personality, so he’s gotta be on there, but I also think that if you explained the concept of kinning to Regulus he’d be like “Then I shall be the Concept of Beauty and Grace” and you’re like. “OK” Kari is the only one here who would actually genuinely be into kinning. Gir from Invader Zim and other iconic scenecore characters would be there for sure. Pon and/or Zi from Pon and Zi mayhaps lol. As for Ceres… I feel like Ceres is too tired to keep up w the concept of kinning. They’d be like, “Fine. I’m Fluttershy. Can I go now?” but like they really are kinda Flutershy tbh

[pleb-the-original]

Day 3: Construct

(ok so I kinda didn't want to do another a- monster but the entry just intrigued me too much.) Alright welcome to Agrippa duty. How bad did ya fuck up? Don't play coy, you had to fuck something up to end up down here. Ah, there it is. Yeah, I can see why they sent you down here. Anyways, this is your orientation as a new employee working for the care and keeping of the Elders' agrippas. What is an agrippa you may ask? Well, have ya heard of the Liber Primus? Big magic book with a human soul inside? Think of that, but a demon soul instead. Basically a long long time ago back when the humans up in Europe were in castle times, a bunch of priests managed to capture some demons and stuffed them into books. You'd think this would've been an issue, since, ya know. Humans stuffing us into books. But instead of doing something actually helpful with the potential crisis on our hands, the Elders decided they wanted in too. Now soul manipulation back then wasn't as refined as it is today, especially dealing with hellfire remnants. Research hadn't gone too far into figuring out the specifics in using hellfire remnants to form a soulfire with only a few successes such as that cat gal. But the Elders tried anyways. They plucked a handful of flames from a couple fires, placed them between the pages of a book and closed it shut. No I am not joking that is actually how they did it. The worst part was that it worked. I could go on about intention powering magic and the Elders heightened capabilities but who gives a shit about that? Not the Elders after having new toys to play with. They basically used the agrippas like journals, documenting their sacred knowledge inside. Some of them actually did useful things with their agrippas like collecting research notes. But some of the others one just wrote whatever the home was on their mind. Before you ask, the only one that didn't participate was Dantalion. I'm surprised he actually didn't say anything considering everyone was ripping him off. Maybe he knew what was to come. Because yeah, turns out stuffing an entire demon into a confined prison and feeding it untold wisdom does in fact lead to bad things happening. The agrippas got hungrier for knowledge. They soon became feral and started eating anything with information they could find. They even managed to trap normal demons within their pages by shutting them inside. It was mayhem! Once the Elders got their agrippas together, they locked 'em away down in the deepest bowels of Pandemonium so no one ever has to learn about one of the many times they fucked up. Oh yes this isn't the only incident, trust me. Working down here, you get to learn a lot about their dirty laundry. You can't ever let them know of course but trust me, you'll learn a lot. As for what we actually do, we just do rounds to make sure the locks are stable and the books are complacent. If they do get rowdy, you just gotta swing on by a booth to find a book to read to them. I am not kidding. Does this face look like it kids? No? Good. We do get assigned specific agrippas to deal with just in case they get out. And you gotttttttt……Vassago's. Eh, not bad. His gets a little testy sometimes but it ain't too bad. They must've gone easy on you. Yes, this is going easy. Trust me, things could be a lot worse. You could have gotten Andras'. I know right? If you do see any of the guys working with that one, just give them a hug. Or a pat on the back. Or anything really. Just don't make any sudden movements around them. Or the agrippa itself. Actually just stay as far away as possible at all times. You can tell which one it is by the caution tape…and the acid stains…and the paint. But I don't think things'll too bad for you. I mean you're only assigned down here for a couple months. Just make sure when you get outta here not to do anything to make them wanna send you back. I hate it when I get repeats.

[the-beard-of-edward-teach]

random quotes/convos from my vc with my two friends i havent seen in months:

"a lot of time when your swimming you're just swimming through a lot of eggs..."

"and piss and shit"

"yes and sperm..."

"elephants release a smelly goo from their ears that let the ladies know that theyre down to clown. they pee their pants too"

"they wear pants?"

"well, no, but they pee and just try to make themselves as smelly as possible"

"kangaroos. kangaroos have short pregnancies"

keeps on talking but the call disconnects

New call starts

“flesh tic tacs??”

“baby kangaroos. They look like flesh tic tacs. Haven’t you seen a newborn kangaroo”

“no”

“why not”

“Im still confused why whale pregnancies take less time than elephant pregnancies. Elephant pregnancies are the longest mammal pregnancies. Nearly two years. They spend a lot of time cooking. Be glad you’re not an elephant.”

“i dont get why people say the males get pregnant with seahorses because okay but he isn’t really pregnant”

“it’s just the pouch”

“yes the pouch”

“he’s just a babysitter”

“Male emus raise the kids. i once saw online a thing that said: who would win a florida man or an emu”

“whats up with australian animals”

“i thing evolutionary—"

“revolutionary”

“sure”

“America”

“it would not be a dante’s inferno situation, actually if i leave i will write the equivalent of dante’s inferno then come back”

*presents 30 minutes of slideshow on tsams*

*presents a slideshow on ice age swapping the love interest*

"this guy realized that they cant have a mole be the love interest of a mammoth so they pretended that it didnt happen. I cant pretend"

*presents a slideshow on fictional characters they are endeared by*

"PETER LUKAS"

"NO PETER LUKAS"

"YES PETER LUKAS"

"FINE. PETER LUKAS"

"what did peter lukas do to warrant this reaction"

"HE HURT MARTIN"

"he was mean to martin. no one is mean to martin"

"no one is mean to martin"

*had silenced them to answer a call and just turned my volume back up*

"you should do a smash or pass with your faves"

"we should do it"

"WHAT DID I JUST COME BACK TO"

"i think you should a smash or pass with your faves. there are some of my faves who i would never"

"but would you ever to begin with?"

"no. nope. not at all"

"i would not kill jonathan sims. but would i marry him? i would kiss him on the hand."

"you gotta keep in mind that marrying is just roommates and being best friends."

"would i want to room with jonathan sims? no."

"i would kill victor frankenstein in an instant"

"i wouldnt wanna room with dracula"

"which of the classic halloween monsters would you want to room with"

"actually im down with dracula"

"really?"

"yeah"

"you'd be one of his brides?"

"sure"

"the fourth one?"

"actually i'd be his husband. I'd be dracula's husband."

"true. true true true"

proceeds to talk about how we dont wanna room with invisible man cause of general creepy vibes

"a group of platypuses is called a paddle"

"what about unicorns?"

"a blessing"

"a group of elephants is a memory"

"a group of owls is a parliament"

"this has to pass parliament: and its just a bunch of owls at a desk"

"a pandemonium of parrots"

[demonfox38]

I can't think anyone but a handful of my mutuals will care about my opinions regarding this, but here's my thoughts on the "Castlevania: Nocturne" trailer:

Looks like we ain't getting a "Castlevania: Bloodlines" adaptation, huh? 😅

I still don't know why this team didn't have a Simon Belmont run. Dude's super recognizable and about as free as it gets for canon shenanigans. I don't think many people would argue against Simon having an ultra-violent, exploitatively gory adventure…Especially not after that whole "picking up Dracula's body parts, reanimating him, and beating the shit out of him again" situation.

I can see the appeal of writing a French Revolution "Castlevania" story, but it's a little off, too? Like, the only roughly French person was Maria, and even that's a tangential stretch based on her last name (which I think came from some university one of the game developers was associated with, if I remember correctly.) I suppose what I've gotta point out is that the intro to "Rondo of Blood" is very, very much in German, which is super unique for the series. If this story was happening outside of Romania, I'd have to peg it to Germany for that reason.   

I'd almost be certain that we're going to see Marie Antoinette die in an exploitatively gruesome fashion, but I wonder if Konami would put a stop to that. Not that they care much outside of getting cash money for licensing, of course. It's just that most Japanese media tends to have a more sympathetic view of her, so I wonder if that would filter over even to an American adaptation of a Japanese video game series. Then again, they let S3E9-10 happen, so…

Interesting spin on Orlox. There's definitely potential to play with there! Dude's almost free in terms of canon, unless you want to get into Japanese light novels post "Dawn of Sorrow." But that's way, way, way, way in the future…

Don't know why he wouldn't just kill Richter as a kid, though. Unless we're setting up some kind of "Berserk" style misery gambit.

Honestly, I almost thought Isaac would show up 300 years later with schemes to get Dracula back. A different flavor of Shaft, if you will. Although damn, does that not sound right.

Actually, what the hell kind of happy ending fuckery are they going to do with what happened at the end of S4? That was surprisingly rainbows out the ass for this series. Like…When did Lisa die again? How does Dracula react to that? How fucked up did the CV3 hero set end up afterwards? Something had to put Alucard back under, right? I doubt these people would let SOTN slip by, and that definitely starts with him waking up from an extra-long nap…

There's going to be such hell-on-earth pandemonium if this interpretation of Annette also ends up as a succubus/vampire lady. Like, that's not worse than what "Berserk"'s Casca went through, but it's a disturbing enough thought... I don't know why I keep thinking of "Berserk" for a series comparison….

Also—say! That's an interesting idea, having a character from the Caribbean. You know what else is famously associated with that location? Pirates! I wonder if maybe they could have had, I don't know, some kind of knife-throwing, acrobatic pirate thief in the last series…But that would have just been silly, right? 😑

Anyone got a bead on Doctor Iris, or did Richter forget to save her?

Also, is it me, or does this Tera interpretation look more like Yoko Belnades than the character she's actually based on?

Haven't had a Netflix subscription in years. Probably will get around to seeing this at some point, but I'd like to have a buffer first. Maybe listen for the screamings of other damned souls before sticking my head into the hell portal.

Honestly, I probably would get back to that "Lupin" series first...

[rewordthis]

Aw pals! What was that episode??? Pandemonium for real!

But first, let me say… Dude, what was that squeal when Yuuji tore mechamaru from his ear??? 🥶 I’m still confused if it was actually him or just a distortion in the sound. 😑

Well, at least the rest of the episode was nice…

I loved Gojo’s disgusted face, as he asked to get boxed already. Like “dude if you’re gonna do it, just do it! Duh!” lol

Naobito gramps barfing up the six pack he downed… He’s a freaking animal (derogatory). 🤢😞 Maki wasn’t kidding when she said she couldn’t stand living in that house. Damn~

Yuuji climbing that building like Spider-Man… 😑 Then the highlight: screaming “Nanamiiin!!!” lmao Here I must say that I so get him, though. For all the embarrassment I get to call up on someone I know on the street and usually end up creeping behind them (and scaring the f!ck out of them of course…), I have done that a couple times. Like, it’s mortifying to even think of doing it, but I admit I can actually be that embarrassing sometimes. If it’s gotta be done, it gets done. End of story. 😶‍🌫️🫠

And Nanami just being there like…

…

Also. That curse user that stabbed Ijichi is so damn annoying… 😠 He kept stubbing him in the same place, but that must be the point ig. I mean, it’s not clear yet — excuse me if I’m stupid and this has already been addressed — but assistants also have cursed energy, right? Like Maki said in the movie; the base requirement is been able to see cursed spirits (these people are windows, correct?) so being an assistant and being able to cast even the simplest barrier should mean that you’re able to manipulate your own cursed energy. Which logically should lead to Ijich being able to do what Gojo did when Toji stabbed him with the normal sword, to somehow strengthen his body enough so he won’t loose too much blood and not get a crucial hit in any vital organs… right? Am I wrong? Uuuh, Nanami will find him approximately after 10 minutes, if I’m not completely off and he’s not dead by then, that is… 😒

By the way… shouldn’t there be a 💢 on Jogo’s head or something when he was arguing with Choso? The characteristic squeak was there but the visual (💢) wasn’t. 🧐

Not gonna pass on Choso’s smirk, either. That was so funny, like… why are you like this you little shit! hahaha 😂

And the twins… Pff~ That rotting brain knew just how to manipulate them, huh? Tsk! Threatening to kill them with the body of the man they worshiped the ground he was walking… that should have hurt like hell. 😔 It should also mean that they hadn’t had a say in the taking, right? It forced them to do its dirty job but they didn’t know how to make it into a binding pact to get the body back after helping it out with its plan… Ah, Geto, you didn’t taught your girls right. Yet, you had the nerve to speak about Gojo not properly teaching Yuuta how to imbue a curse into an object. 🤡

Curiously, though, that ‘slime’ thinks (?) that ‘regret’ can’t be served to it? It sounded like ‘regret’ is a taste it has actually missed? Maybe from when it was an actual human? Like how Sukuna was a human? Oh! But if it’s never been a human, it could be from when it first got born into the world? (I’m speculating— because even with all the spoilers that fly around, there seems to be a lack of knowledge around this thing’s origins. I’m so fucking glad Gege has managed to keep things obscure af!!! CLOWNS CAN’T spoil what they don’t know! Meeeh~ *aggressively sticks out tongue* >:P Eat that! On that note, however, I WILL FUCKING BITE AND BLOCK ANYONE THAT POSTS ANYTHING ABOUT MY BELOVED SUKUNA-SAMA FROM THE FUCKING MANGA AND DOESN’T USE MANGA–SPOILER TAGS!!! EVERYONES LIVES WILL GET MISERABLE IF YOU DON’T PAY HEED!!! THIS IS YOUR WARNING!!!💢👿💢) I mean, as a genuine brain curse — most probably born from the resentment of humans toward intelligence itself — with all that this should entail. Like fear of the minds’ capabilities, understanding, adaptability (which also is part of the cursed technique of that thing: adapting and using the host’s technique), enlightenment even... Or, if we take it seriously from only the perspective of its main ability, aka: taking over a body, then we must be talking about nothing more than a parasite with intelligence. I wonder if that’s how a brain-worm would operate as a curse… lol However, I still think it was once a human. Because regrets are humans’ privilege, in my humble opinion. 😗 Aaah~ I rambled a bit there, didn’t I? I shall put a full-stop here, then. Ok, I lied. Sue me! But I just remembered; what it said about the phenomenon of the memories flowing into it because of the soul so the soul and the body must be one undivided existence… What? How about muscle memory? A body is perfectly capable of reacting to something in its own accord. If there is something to trigger the reaction, then the reaction will take place anyway. Isn’t the soul supposed to be interconnected to the consciousness? Is the soul unrelated to the mind? Huh? It could be argued that the consciousness, the mind and the memory all reside in the brain while muscle memory (essentially mechanical reaction) and unconscious reside in the body and are connected through the subconscious. So maybe that’s what this rotting brain goo is actually riding onto??? Because there is a possibility the subconscious is the only thing that doesn’t reside in the physical world, thus is what essentially and practically cursed energy actually is and where it springs from. Right? Eh? Ugh… Yes, I might not have explained that correctly. Second language barriers you see. lmao Anyway, that’s all I wanted to point out for now. For real this time. 🤗

Also! Not to forget the man himself— Gojo is chill enough to find the time to play around in that box… Like, dude! 😎😅 Be the menace you’re usually being for Nanami and Ijichi and break a deeper crater to sink in, will you? You’re already flexing in there. I’m sure you tried to open the seal from the inside and that’s why it overloaded. Because when a device overloads, it often gets short-circuited and overheats. From there it either bursts into fire, explodes or melts. That’s why the eyes melted— I’m so convinced of this. However, I don’t think the fact that the prison’s eyes turned blue means that Gojo can see outside. It feels more like during the processing the object reflects what it sees inside itself…? If that makes any sense… 🤷‍♀️ (Yes, I will be calling that thing a device because that’s what I see it being. Thanks for not making a fuss out of this.)

All while poor Nanami is about to break down from the responsibilities that just got unloaded onto him! He literally told himself off from complaining, because he was about to!!! 😭 Stupid, Gojo! Don’t make this harder for him, idiot! It was already a lot of work before but now he has to save your ass, too! Baka!!! He’s practically carrying on his back the lives of a whole country’s people right now because he knows you trust him and he also knows his limits and how necessary you are to everyone! I will slap you for the troubles you put him through, Gojo!

Honestly though, I get that sometimes things are perceived a bit differently from me because ‘nuance’ is eluding me but…

Acting like he was nothing but leg below his nipples!

Wait… WHAT??!

[anxiously-awaiting]

its 5 am i read too much and now my brain has stoppped working just look at my hotboy wizard

[shenonagons]

Day Seventeen/Alt 3: Shrapnel (C3)

Read here on AO3

Summary: After Ashton is wounded protecting Orym from an explosion, Orym looks after him until help arrives.

“Hang on, we're almost there,” Orym panted. Ashton leaned heavily against him, though he was way too short to provide much meaningful support. “Just a little further, okay?”

Ashton was barely on his feet, bleeding from dozens of puncture wounds from the explosion that had taken out the tavern where they'd been asking questions. Orym had no idea where any of their friends were, if any of them were more injured than Ashton...if the rest of them were alive.

“Fuck.” Ashton hit the ground hard, dropping to both knees and one hand. The other was still claspsed to Orym's shoulder, for all the good that was doing. “Fuck, man, you gotta leave me.”

“No way.” Orym wrapped Ashton's arm around his shoulders and tried to haul the genasi back to his feet. “Not when you're hurt like this.”

“That's exactly why you should go,” Ashton rasped, though he let Orym tug him forward until he could lumber back up to his feet. His side was a mess of torn skin and blood—or what passed for blood in his body. Bits of glass littered his stony flesh, and Orym was sure he could see slivers of metal in the wounds, too.

“Not leaving you behind,” he said. He wrapped his arm around Ashton's waist, letting the genasi lean as much weight on him as he could bear. “There's an alley...up ahead.”

Ashton didn't answer, his labored breathing sounding far too loud in the chaos after the explosion. The tavern was little more than a heap of burning rubble now, and they could already hear the clamor as someone started up a bucket chain to try to contain the blaze.

“Here...just sit down,” Orym lowered Ashton to the ground just inside the mouth of the alley. There wasn't much to hide them there, but he hoped they'd be overlooked in the general pandemonium after the attack. If nothing else, he could honestly say they were caught in the blast and he was trying to help his friend.

With a groan, Ashton collapsed all the way down and curled up on his uninjured side. “Think I've got some new piercings.” He managed to turn his head enough to look up at Orym. “You okay?”

��Me?” Orym knelt beside him, hands on his legs, staring at Ashton's wounds. “Ears are ringing a bit, but you knocked me out of the way pretty fast. Don't think I've got a scratch on me.”

Ashton grunted. “Good.” He settled back down and wrapped one arm over his eyes. “Fuck, this hurts.”

“I think it all has to come out, but I don't know if we should do that without Fresh Cut Grass here. Unless you have a healing potion?”

He groaned again. “We were stocking up after questions, remember? 'Questions are safe. No one gets hurt from asking questions.' Why do I ever listen to you people?”

“Because you like us,” Orym replied. He gingerly brushed at the debris on Ashton's coat, pulling his hand away when the other man hissed in pain. “Sorry.”

“How bad is it?”

Orym risked a peek under Ashton's coat. The heavy leather had protected him from the worst of the blast, though there had been plenty of shrapnel in the explosion. It had been a rigged barrel packed with loose bits of metal and glass to maximize casualties—if Ashton hadn't reacted as quickly as he had there was a good chance Orym would have been face-to-face with the explosion.

“I won't say I've seen worse, because I don't have a lot of experience with explosions,” Orym finally said, carefully lowering Ashton's coat to avoid aggravating his wounds. “But I don't think it's anything we can't heal.”

“S'good,” Ashton murmured.

“No, c'mon man, stay awake,” Orym patted Ashton's cheek, careful to avoid the bruises that were blooming up on the side of his face. “Hey, I never thanked you for saving me back there.”

“S'cuz you're so little.” Ashton grinned up at him, blood staining his teeth. “You keep...keep taking hits. F'r all of us. Someone needs to take one for you...once in a while.”

“Shit.” Orym ran his hands through his hair. This wasn't good. He wanted to start pulling the shrapnel out, but without someone to heal the wounds it could just make Ashton bleed to death faster. “I'll be right back. I promise.”

He patted Ashton on the chest, though it seemed like the earth genasi was too far out of it to notice, and bolted for the mouth of the alley. Someone...anyone. One of the guard might have a healer, or a potion to spare...he had some gold, he could pay for it...anything to—

Orym ran right into someone, nearly bowling them over. He started to apologize when strong, familiar hands grabbed his shoulders. “Orym!”

“Fearne.” He could have sagged in relief. “Are you all right? Where are the others?”

“We're looking for you,” the faun replied. “Are you bleeding?”

“Don't think so, but Ashton's in trouble.” Orym grabbed her hand and started tugging her toward the alley. “Can you do the...can you heal someone today?”

“I think so,” Fearne held back, and he wasn't quite strong enough to pull her along so his feet just slid against the pavement. “Hang on, let me signal the others.”

She leaned a little further into the road and waved her free arm, and Orym caught sight of Imogen returning the wave.

“There!” Fearne smiled at him happily. “Imogen says she'll bring everyone here.”

“Great. Just come on,” he said, pulling at her again. Fearne let him this time, and he led her over to where he'd left Ashton. “I don't know if it's safe to get the glass and stuff out, and he was pretty hurt in the explosion.”

“Well, I can do a little,” Fearne commented as she folded down to sit on her knees. “We should probably move off the street to do the rest.”

“Right,” Orym nodded. He sat near Ashton's head, grabbing the other man's hand as Fearne gently prodded at his wounds.

Ashton's eye slid open and he stared at Orym. “You came back.”

“Told you.” Orym patted his hand. “We're not abandoning you. Not ever.”

He grunted and shifted around just enough so that his forehead was resting against Orym's knee. “That's good...you're good...family's good.”

“Yeah.” Orym smiled. “We're all good.”

[kiridarling]

𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

eijirou kirishima | f!reader, DARK CONTENT, drugging, noncon, but also the reader isn't not into it bc like...i have my limits okay, talk of vomit for a sec (no actual vomit), degradation, bondage, size kink, hair pulling, ripping clothes, slut-calling once or twice. minors dni!

— 3k words

"'S this what you need, Sweetheart? Y'need me to use you to get off while you just lie there and take it?"

"See somethin' you like, Sweetheart?"

"U-Um," you flush a deeper red than the stranger's hair and pray he can't see it under neon red lights. Either way, you've been caught red-handed, and recoil. "Sorry."

The stranger's crimson eyes soften before relaxing into a kind smile, and he lifts a dismissive hand. "I was just messing with you! That's on me."

He lifts a hand to scratch the back of his head and the smile grows wider, displaying the rows of predatory sharp teeth that shouldn't look as gentle as they do. You relax in the seat to his right, immediately turning to the bartender to order a funny named a drink. The redhead raises an eyebrow, leaning his arm on the counter.

"A Stranger Danger?" He nearly deadpans.

"Club Special," you shrug. You've never been particularly great at holding your alcohol, but this drink provides just enough punch for a buzz, aka what you need to get through the night. The bartender slides over a tall, rose-dyed wine glass without another word.

"Eijirou Kirishima," the stranger says with his sharp teeth, offering a large hand to shake. He looks comical next to you, all hunched over the neon bar while you sit up straight for your head to reach his shoulder, and as you take the handshake, can't help but notice how his palm eats yours like it's nothing.

"Y/N," you smile. His hand lingers before it pulls away, and he tells the bartender he'll have what you're having.

"So," Eijirou starts once his order has been placed. "You come here often?" You snort at the cheesy line, and the way Eijirou smirks implies he knows just how cliché it is.

"Sometimes," you shrug vaguely. The club's fairly new, so it's not as if you can say you've been going here for years. You lift the drink to your lips, the sugar-crusted rim tickling the corners of your mouth. "You?"

He shrugs, "When I want to get out."

You nod at that and offer him your glass with a raised eyebrow. Eijirou shakes his head, lifting a glass of his own. Your nose scrunches.

"Beer?"

He takes a sip before answering, lips white from the foam before his tongue licks them over, "Stella Artois. Want some?"

Your eyes shift between your dainty glass and his not-so-dainty one before you snort, "I'll pass."

Eijirou shrugs, reclining back in his seat and beer in hand, "Suit yourself."

You pat your back pocket for your phone, but when you realize there's a loss of weight on one side, you pat your right buttcheek to realize you left your wallet in the car. Fuck.

"Uh, hey," you say, knocking the redhead on the shoulder. You figure he's trustworthy enough, and the bartender always keeps an eye out for you anyway. "I'll be right back—left my wallet in the car."

Eijirou nods at that as you push away from the counter practically shaking your head at how distracted you can be sometimes. Seriously, your wallet?

At least the bartender didn't ask for your ID. Yikes.

You slam the car door shut with a huff, wallet finally in hand as you trudge back to the bar. When you return, Eijirou's got the beer lifted to his lips and greets you with a small wave as you sit down.

"Long time no see."

You giggle while grabbing your glass by the neck. As the club starts to fill out, you begin to shrink into your shell—throwing the entire drink down the hatch fixes you right up, though.

"Oh wow okay, looks like we're just going for the whole thing, then," Eijirou chuckles as he takes a much more civilized sip of his. You smack your lips with a satisfied aah.

"Gotta get the buzz going somehow," you wink, before getting comfortable in your seat. Alcohol warms your veins already, prompting your body to start pulse in time with the bass of the music. Eijirou smiles, watching you.

"You like this song?" he asks softly, before adjusting so you're both sat the same way—elbows and backs against the counter, facing the club and all its chaos. You shrug.

"I guess. I've never heard it 'till now."

He tosses his head back onto his muscled shoulders in a chuckle, and you watch the entire act in slow motion. The glint of his teeth in the neon lights, how his chest balloons and quivers under the weight of a bellow. You find yourself staring much harder than you intend to, but he doesn't seem to notice, eyes locked on the dance floor.

"Touché, touché," he says upon recovery. The alcohol in your veins turns to syrup and time starts to blur more than you're used to it being, body so light and weightless you have to pat the chair to make sure you aren't floating. That usually doesn't happen.

"You okay?" Eijirou frowns when you falter. You pull a smile and nod.

"Mhm," you say, though silently panicking when you feel like you're falling out of your seat. You grip the countertop just in case. "Mhm, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow, "You sure?"

"Yeah," you nod, before clearing your throat. Your body flashes hot then cold, and you wonder if you shouldn't have taken that drink down like you did. "I'm um—I'm going to go to the bathroom, one sec."

You're unsure if Eijirou says something as you leave because you pour all your energy into stumbling across the obnoxiously loud club, filled with too much bass and pandemonium for your liking. You're suddenly overwhelmed by everything and your esophagus goes numb at the thought of vomiting, but you make it to the singles bathroom just in time to shut the door and control your goddamn stomach.

With a sigh, you rest your head against the cool sink. The incessant buzz of the overhead lights is much, much better.

You take a deep breath and flick on the sink. Ensuring it's as freezing as it can possibly go, you launch some into your face. You don't even consider ruining the amount of work that went into your outfit today, because ultimately you aren't sober enough to give a shit, blinking back at your reflection to find it fairly blurry. You nearly stumble and fall, but your vice grip on the counter keeps you alive.

"You okay?"

The second you step back into the noisy club, Eijirou's there—with his sweet sharp-toothed smile, he's posted next to the bathroom door and you find yourself grappling his jacket for stability.

"Whoa—Careful now," He chuckles at your sloppiness with a lifted eyebrow. You blink once, twice—the spots floating in your line of vision don't disappear. His hands snake around your waist to keep you from falling and eating shit, and you dig your forehead into his muscled chest.

"Gotta—I gotta go home."

"Okay," Eijirou soothes softly upon realizing how utterly shit-faced you are. "How'd you get here?"

"Walked," you groan and nearly cry, looking up at him with a pout. Eijirou coos.

"Well, no offense but I don't think you're good to walk on your own, Sweetheart."

His voice is heady with something you can't quite recognize, but it's comfortable, and you melt into his chest with a weak nod.

"Mhm."

"Can I help you home?" He offers with a kind smile. You nod, fists gripping his shirt in tufts.

"Yes please."

"Oop—careful."

"I am al—hic—always so fu—fucking careful," you slur. Your body has gone so numb that Eijirou gave up and resorted to carrying you bridal style the rest of the way instead. But he has to set you down so you can stuff your keys in the door, but you can't even do that right.

"Need me to do it?"

"No!" You puff your cheeks, trying twice more before you successfully get it in the keyhole. "'Mma strong independent woman who don' nee' no mahn."

Eijirou chuckles, and using his big shoulder, opens the door to chauffeur you inside. Neither of you get very far, maybe halfway to your room, before your legs give out and the only thing that saves you is the hand on your waist.

"Down this hall?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod so profusely it gives you a temporary headache.

You blink and you're in your bedroom, your front hitting the sheets with a soft thump. Huh. Maybe he carried you the rest of the way. With a face full of pillows, you groan at the new and improved position as you feel the bed dip behind you, and Eijirou grab both of your wrists.

"You're so cute, you know that?"

Something soft and silk ties your fists behind your back. You recognize the material as the belt from your robe, tossed carelessly on your bed during the chaos that ensues every time you get ready for the club. It's not until you try to pull your hands apart that you realize they're tied tight.

"Pulling is only going to make it tighter," Eijirou says with an absentminded sigh, like he's done this before, and trepidation spikes in your chest once he raises your hipbone and slides a pillow underneath to angle them, the only way you could break free—especially with the new grip on your hips.

"Ei—" you try to squirm, legs kicking blindly into the space behind you, but once he seizes your thighs he's sitting on your calves to keep you in place. There's the undeniable sound of cloth ripping and your behind is suddenly met with cool air, prompting a shiver or two.

"Eijirou, what are yo—"

You're interrupted by a stinging slap to your ass and a growl. "Don't tell me I gotta gag your pretty mouth too, Sweetheart."

His voice is low and sharp with a threat, his grip tightening around your thighs.

"You're soaked already? Fuck...and I bet you taste so sweet too..." he bites back a groan in thought, sliding a finger down your slit.

He clicks his tongue but it's damn near mocking. You gasp as he fills you with two large fingers instead of one, body tensing as the alcohol-induced numbness fades in favor of amplified arousal. Eijirou chuckles at your reaction.

"Taking it so well already," he purrs, hand caressing the crest of your ass. In your defense, there isn't much you can do but take it. Ah-ah, Sweetheart—Speak up for me."

"O-Ow," you hiss when your head is wrenched. upwards via your hair to expose your broken moan. Eijirou's grip only tightens after you complain, and you can feel his hot breath ghost the base of your neck. His thumb finds your clit and doesn't move, it just sits there as heavy weight—and it's just as frustrating as it is teasing.

"Ei," you rasp into the pillow, voice hoarse and thick. "I nee—fuck, more—"

"More?" He chuckles derisively, shaking his head with a tut. "Two fingers and you want more? Fuckin' slut."

Each word is loaded with something pitifully mocking and if you were in any other position you would've curled a lip and spat back. But that's a little hard with your face in the pillow and Eijirou's weight above you, isn't it? You shake your head against his fist until he lets go in favor of crackling a solid hand against your ass.

"Oh, you like that, don't you Sweetheart?" He grunts and his fingers increase in speed, the lewd squelch bounces off the walls of the bedroom and echoes in your head in the most insulting way. "My fingers fill you up that good?"

"Y-Yeah, I—" you choke around drool that gathers in the corners of your mouth and shake under his palm. "Fuck me Ei, I nee—"

The quick spank cracked against your ass shakes you from your thought process. "Dirty fucking girl—you really so desperate to let a guy you just met fuck you like this? So goddamn easy."

But he's removing his fingers regardless, stuffing them between your swollen lips as he assumes the space behind you. You hear the quiet fumble of his belt and the run of his zipper, before you feel his hot cock pressing against your soaked entrance.

Eijirou pushes in with a groan, his free hand finding your hips to keep them in place. Your legs thrash as he fills you up with a pleasurable burn, and by the time he bottoms out, you're positive he's filling you up all the way to your lungs.

"Fucking hell," he heaves above you, and the fingers in your mouth disappear to grasp the sheets. You shake along with him, back straightening in a poor attempt to alleviate the burn—and he barely gives you a second to breathe before he's pulling out and slamming back in.

"Fuck!"

You jump each time the head of his cock rams against your cervix, feet scrambling in a poor attempt to escape. Eijirou growls and puts all of his weight in his hips to ensure you'll stay still, a big hand smushing your face into the sheets.

"Sing for me, Sweetheart—I wanna hear ya."

Your voice cracks as Eijirou speeds up, simply using you for his own pleasure—but maybe that's what excites you the most.

"Ei—"

"'S this what you need, Sweetheart?" He spits, and you can feel the sweat dripping from his shoulders onto your exposed back. "Y'need me to use you to get off while you just lie there and take it?"

You whimper uselessly and nod, but Eijirou growls, yanking your head up for a proper answer.

"I said, don't you?"

"Fuck I—" he hikes your hips even higher for a better angle and gets one, the head of his cock forcing a scream out of your lungs as you yelp, "I do!"

"'Course you do," he chuckles, and drops your head back onto the pillow, "'Course you fuckin' do—"

"Ei-Eiji—" you gasp like you've been underwater forever. "I can't, I nee—"

"Dumb little baby can't even speak," he coos, before his hand finds the sides of your neck and squeezes. "What? Whadd'ya need, Sweetheart?"

And honestly, you're not completely sure what you need, you just know you're chasing after *something—*and Eijirou's got you sprinting after it while you melt into the sheets into a hot, gooey mess. You think the split ends of EIjirou's hair ticking the back of your arms, but you aren't sure. The only thing you are sure of is the burn between your legs and the feeling of being very, very close.

"'Mma cum!" You squeal, the vein in the side of your neck bulging. Eijirou grunts and slides a calloused hand under your stomach to play with your clit, hissing as you squeeze around him.

"Awe, the little slut's gonna cream all over my cock?" He coos, and you're positive his hips speed up just a bit. The grip on your neck slides to the hands tied behind your back for leverage. "Yeah she fuckin' is—I can see your eyes rolling back already."

And he's right, because the weight of your orgasm knocks the wind out of your lungs and your lips round to form and 'o'. You couldn't say if you screamed or not, as the ringing in your ears peaks with your orgasm. The only reason you know Eijirou finishes is because his hips stutter to a stop while you lay face down in the pillow, heart thrumming against your ribcage.

"Hey, you okay?" Eijirou nearly scrambles to get your back on your chest. You know this type of thing gets him nervous, but he does it oh so well, and there isn't much you can do but smile at the ceiling lazily.

"You just railed me into the sheets and you're asking if I'm fine?" You snort at your boyfriend's frazzled appearance—and the afterglow doesn't help, his chili red hair sticking in every other direction except the one it's supposed to.

"Yeah," Eijirou doesn't even hesitate and then gives you a quick peck on the lips. His voice edges on a petulant whine as he says, "I was rough, Sweetheart."

"Because I asked you to be," you quirk an eyebrow and finally, the redhead stumbles to your joint bathroom butt naked. "And don't forget to wet the towel this time!

A little shuffling in the bathroom, and then:

"That was one time!"

"And my vag will never recover!" You holler back. Eijirou just snorts before the white noise of a running sink takes possession of the conversation, and you scoot to the section of your shared bed that isn't soiled with a sigh.

You roll onto your side and come face to face with a framed selfie of you and Eijirou on your first date. Next to that one is first anniversary, second anniversary, third...

Now you're edging on the fifth, comfortable enough where he's walking around with his soft dick out and you've given up in swatting at his hands every time they grab for your tits. You two are comfortable—this is comfortable.

Eyeing the bathroom door, you still hear running water. Sneakily, you reach for the drawer where Eijirou keeps the the ring he doesn't know you know he hides. But frankly, you're the only one who cleans this goddamn house, so it wasn't like you weren't going to find it. You open the red velvet box to blink down at a diamond ring, thumb caressing gem. It glimmers even when the lights are low, and you can't help but be jealous of it—which is silly. You know it'll be yours anyway. The ring is always smoother than you expect it to be, but that thought doesn't last long, because you quickly toss it back into Eijirou's drawer and assume a less suspicious position upon hearing the sink turn off.

"What?" he asks with a small grin as he walks in with a wet towel in hand. "You're giving me that weird look again."

You snort, rolling your eyes before adjusting so you face the ceiling again. Spreading your legs, you demand, "'S nothing. Now clean me up, big boy."

Eijirou huffs at that but he assumes the space between your legs with a light blush. You smile.

He'll do it. When he grows the balls.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 16 of 16

Welp, this is it I guess. I’ve never finished a story of this size before, so ngl, I’m proud of myself. This story was originally gonna be a short possibly two parter imagine, I never intended for this to be 16 chapters long lmao. AND, I didn’t do much pre planning either. I kinda just made things up as I wrote, which is why this story is such a shit show. But a big thank you to the supporters of this shit show, it means a whole fucking lot. Now, back to your regularly scheduled programming...

TW: Page 250

I keep forgetting to tag, fucking hell: @multifandom-fangirl4​  @dxllysoutsider​ @gladerscake​

~~~~~~~~~~

( not my gif )

Shakily changing into a stolen guard’s uniform, you found yourself more nervous than you probably should’ve been. 

You just dreaded going back, now with the threat of everyone you care about dying. 

Before, when it was just you risking your life, it was easier. You didn’t really care if you died if you could save someone else, and you knew that mentality was not the healthiest. But compared to Gally, Thomas, or even Brenda, you didn’t feel like you mattered as much. 

What could you possibly have to offer that would be greater than anyone else’s contribution?

“You ready?” Gally smiled at you.

Ah, but being able to be with Gally overpowered those feelings.

“Yup. How do I look?” You teased, jokingly twirling around to show off the heavy uniform.

“Pretty damn good, I gotta say.”

You brushed off the butterflies in your stomach with a scoff. “Well, a good uniform can make anyone look good, I think.”

“I mean, sure. But damn, you really pull it off.”

Your lighthearted conversation was cut short by a sharp cough, looking over to see Newt with an annoyed look on his face. “You guys are bloody disgusting, excuse me while I go vomit.”

“Oh, come on, man. Look at her and tell me she doesn’t look nice.” Gally pointed to you.

“Jesus, keep it in your pants, mate.”

You stifled a laugh as Gally turned a light shade of red, ignoring the suggestive comment with an eye roll. “I’m just sayin’.”

Newt walked away from the amusing exchange, still stifling a few coughs. You couldn’t help but worry. “Does he seem a bit off to you?” You asked. Gally looked to Newt then back to you, the sad look on his face giving you a guarantee that something was wrong.

You would’ve prodded further if it weren’t for Thomas giving the signal that it was time to start infiltrating the W.C.K.D. building.

The way it was planned, Thomas and Teresa would walk in the front together, meeting up with Newt, soon you and Gally would find them, making sure to keep a natural distance away. Brenda’s job seemed the easiest, to you at least, all she had to do was steal a bus. You prayed that Frypan didn’t fall to his death, and that Jorge would get back in time with the Berg.

“You’re worrying.”

You rolled your eyes at Gally’s tone. “Yeah, of course I’m worrying. When do I not worry?”

“Not as much as you’d think.”

Your felt your heavy breaths waft back into your face from the helmet you were wearing not allowing much to circulate. Seriously, how could people do this all day for a job? You ignored the queasy feeling in your gut as you found Teresa with the other two “guards.”

Entering into a stairwell, Gally suddenly stopped the group. “Hold on, hold on.” He said, looking over some sort of electric box. “I can get in here.”

“Kay, throw me the walkie.” Thomas ordered, motioning for you to follow with him to clear the area.

You heard Newt cough heavily as you descended down the stairs with your gun, right behind Thomas. “How long has Newt been like this?” You whispered.

“Now’s not the time, Y/N.” Thomas said, scanning next floor to see that it was clear.

“Thomas.” You pleaded.

Thomas huffed, an annoyed yet mournful face overtaking his features. You knew his answer wouldn’t be good, and you found yourself dreading what he would say. “He’s got the Flare...he’s been like this for awhile now. I just found out myself.” He frowned.

You cast your gaze downwards, tears already welling up in your eyes as you realized what this meant. Thomas didn’t give you a chance to respond as he quickly ascended the stairs back to the others, holding up the radio. “Frypan, we’re in. How you doing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting there.” Fry voiced. “Tell Minho hi for me.”

“Hang in there, buddy.”

Gally soon got into the box, quickly looking through the various labels until finding the right one. “This’ll work.” He assured.

“Okay, Brenda, what’s your status?” Thomas spoke through the radio.

“Working on it.” She answered.

“Copy. Just make sure you’re ready on your end.”

“Don’t worry, you know I’m gonna be there.”

Gally quickly set up the hacking signal up to the correct wires, shutting the box door with a grin. “Alright, let’s go.” Everyone quickly bounded down the stairs, stopping at the door at the bottom. “Lawrence, we’re in position.” Gally radioed, only to be greeted with silence. “Lawrence?” 

“If he doesn’t turn those bloody cameras off, then we’re gonna be in big trouble.” Newt expressed everyone’s thoughts.

Gally looked nervous, but peeking though the little window in the door, he huffed. “He’ll do his part.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily before readjusting the mask part of the helmet over your face. “Let’s get this over with.”

Teresa reluctantly placed her thumb over the ID scanner, and Gally quickly encouraged everyone through the door to cautiously speed through the halls to get to where Minho was being held. 

It didn’t take long to find the holding bay with Teresa leading the group, but you didn’t know if getting in would be easy with a bunch of guards inside.

“Teresa, stay back.” You ordered, gently pushing her behind you. The last thing you guys needed was for her getting in the crossfire.

“Ready?” Gally looked to everyone, they all nodded, clutching their weapons tightly.

As soon as the door opened, shots rang out from your side, making work of all the guards in no time. The element of surprise probably helped. “Huh, that was surprisingly easy.” You chuckled breathlessly, almost proud of yourself for getting some decent shots in, the recoil packed a punch though.

“Yeah? Don’t let it go to your head.” Newt sassed.  

Seeing all the kids exit their holding cells with looks of hopefulness, almost made you tear up. What could’ve these poor innocent souls had to endure by the hands of W.C.K.D. You risked a glace at your cousin, and you couldn’t tell how she felt. Did she feel joy that these kids were finally getting rescued? Or all that she saw in those kids was possible cure, dehumanizing them for the sake of her morality? 

You didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“The vault. How do I get in?” Gally’s voice caught your attention. The person he was holding a gun to simply said that he couldn’t. “Guys, this might take some time.” He voiced after looking over the heavy vault door.

You looked around and furrowed your brows when you saw one key person missing. “Where’s Minho? He’s supposed to be here.”

Thomas scowled, storming up to Teresa. “Where is he?”

Teresa quickly went to the computers, looking up his file. “Someone’s moved him up to the medical wing. Thomas, that’s on the other side of the building.”

Thomas sighed. “Okay, take me to him, right now.”

“Alright, I’m coming with you.” You and Newt both stepped up.

“No. No, you guys have to wait with Gally for the serum.”

“You can’t do this on your own.” Newt argued. “And Minho comes first, remember?”

“Just go, we’re wasting time!” Gally called out. “I’ll get the serum, we’ll meet you out back.”

Thomas nodded to Newt, but turned to you with a remorseful look on his face. “No, no, you’re not making me stay.” You expressed. “I’m part of this as much as he is.”

“Y/N, you’ve done so much for us already. I can’t ask you to do this.”

“I’m offering.”

“No, please. Stay here. We’ll be okay.”

You scowled, exhaling sharply. “Fine. Keep an eye on Newt.” You whispered, Thomas nodding then running out with Newt and Teresa. “Please, be careful.”

“They’ll be fine, just watch my six and the kids.” Gally said, starting to saw into the door.

You stood guard at the door, impatiently tapping your foot as you worried about your friends, especially Newt. You wished he had stayed with you and Gally so you could give him the serum as soon as the vault opened. You knew it wouldn’t cure him, but it would give him time, and that’s what he needed right now.

You heard Gally’s saw stop, smiling ear to ear when the vault door finally opened. You went inside to help Gally load up all the vials, the whole room glowing blue from the color of the serum. “Come on, we need to hurry.”

The room was almost empty of its contents, but staring at one of the only vials left, you debated. Emotion overtook logic as you grabbed a singular vial of the serum, gathering courage and turning around, only to be stopped by Gally. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to find Newt.”

Gally looked at the serum clutched tight in your hand, putting the pieces together quickly. “No, no way.”

“Who know how much time he had left? This can help him.”

“It’s too dangerous.” He said slowly.

“I can’t do nothing while I know I can help him.”

“You’re not doing nothing. You’re gonna help these kids get to Brenda. I’m not letting you.”

“I wasn’t asking.” You said bluntly, a determined look in your eyes that made Gally speechless. He had seen that look before, and he finally realized he wouldn’t be able to convince you to stay with him.

Gally quickly pulled you into a hug with his free arm, placing a rough kiss to the top of your head. “You better come back to me.”

You smiled softly. “I will.” 

And with that, you took off without a glance behind you, determined to save your friend from a terrible fate. Of course, if you had glanced behind you to see Gally’s face, you probably wouldn’t been complied to stay. But you had to help Newt, he couldn’t become one of those things. You couldn’t save Gally all those months ago, couldn’t save Jeff...or Chuck. You didn’t want history to repeat itself.

You followed the signs that led you toward where the medical bay would be, making sure to avoid being sighted at all costs. You felt silly hiding in small confined places that made your legs cramp up and wish you had more flexibility or stamina at least. It definitely didn’t help that alarms were blaring all around you, making you believe you actually did get caught. But hearing a few guards talk loudly about how intruders were heading to the medical bay, you realized it was just Thomas who must’ve fucked up, or worse Teresa.

This was going to get a lot harder...

All the guards seemed to rally to the medical bay to capture Thomas and Newt, it wasn’t too difficult to blend in with everyone else distracted from the chaos of it all.

You heard gunshots and glass smashing down the halls of the medical wing. Those boys sure were making it obvious, weren’t they?

You clutched you gun to your chest, not feeling very confident about taking on the guards by yourself, but when you saw your friends with a newly escaped Minho struggling to avoid the guards, you knew you had to do something.

You saying a silent prayer, even though you didn’t know if there was any being out there that heard it, gave you some sort of comfort enough to charge the guards that were gaining on your friends. Shooting at will, not even sure you were hitting any guards, you heard a few men fall to the floor with pained groans.

You didn’t have time to be proud of yourself before you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head, immediately falling to the floor yourself with a yelp.

You looked up to see the annoyed face of Jensen, him leaning down and roughly grabbing onto you and hoisting you up to stand. “You’re a real pain the arse, aren’t you, youngblood?”

Teresa jumped when she heard the doors slam opened, gasping when she saw you on the floor with a bloodied face in front of Jensen. “What the hell, Jensen?”

“Look who I found at the med wing, taking out guards left and right.” Jensen sneered.

“I said alive, Jensen!” Teresa fumed, looking at your almost unconscious form.

“I know what you said, Teresa. She’s breathing, isn’t she?”

Teresa scowled at the man before leaning down to delicately lift you to your feet, ungracefully dragging you to a gurney from the lack of help with your dead weight. “Get out. Thomas is still out there.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” Jensen bowed sarcastically, turning on his heel to walk out of the room.

Teresa turned her attention back to you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” She whispered, quickly fixing up a wet cloth to wipe away at the blood leaking from your nose and mouth.

You groaned at the pained pressure of the cloth, weakly pushing Teresa’s hand away from your face. “Hurts...” You mumbled.

“I thought you were supposed to stay with Gally.” Teresa fussed, ignoring your discomfort to clean your face. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I needed to help Newt...” You frowned, holding up the serum that was once safely in your pocket.

Teresa sighed sadly. “It wouldn’t have saved him.”

“But it would’ve given him time.”

Teresa stayed silent for a moment, deciding what to do with you. You furrowed your brows when you felt her strap you to the gurney tightly. “What’re you...?”

“I can’t have you wondering off, plus, you might have a concussion.” Teresa said, inserting a needle into your arm, pulling blood from your veins.

“You need my blood to keep me from wondering off?” You glared. Teresa avoiding your eyes as she readied another needle. “You’re still looking for a cure...even though there is none.”

“I’m just going to run some tests.” She answered simply.

You bit your lip when you felt tears well up in your eyes, gently banging your head down onto the gurney in frustration. How the hell were you gonna escape now?

Gally could’ve sworn his heart almost stopped when he saw his friends jump out of that window. Did these guys have a death wish? But what scared him even more if that there were only three, not four. Please, tell me she made it... “Where’s Y/N?” Gally tried not to shout.

Thomas eyes widened. “What do you mean? We left her with you!”

“She went to find you guys, to give that shank the serum.” Gally pointed to Newt.

Thomas clenched his fists, feeling anger well up in his gut. “Teresa wouldn’t let her get hurt. If anything, she needs her. We’ll get her back, Gally.”

“I know, cause I’m not leaving without her.”

It felt like hours before you talked to Teresa again, her being so fixated on her tests tubes and microscopes. “Any luck in finding your make believe cure?” You teased mockingly. Teresa stayed silent, watching through her scientific equipment for any sign that her cousin blood did anything to get rid of the Flare virus. Teresa slammed her hands on the table when the blood wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. “Guess I’m not the one, huh?”

Teresa glared at you, not appreciating your irritating commentary. She chose to move on to Thomas’ blood that she took back in the church, and her eyes widened when she saw his blood destroying the Flare virus.

Just when she finished making the first serum that she knew would work, the whole building shook as a boom echoed around the whole city.

You strained your neck to look behind you, seeing an almost mushroom cloud of fire at the wall that protected the city. “What the hell...?” Your eyes widened even more when you could faintly see a swarm of people charging through the gap in the wall, quickly realizing that the people were fighting and destroying everything. “Teresa, we have to get out of here.” You said, noticing everyone outside the lab room where thinking the same thing and trying to making a quick escape.

Teresa frowned, storming over to you and removing your restraints, and quickly going back to her experiments. “I can’t.”

You quickly removed yourself from the gurney. “What do you mean? The city’s getting raided. They’ll burn this place down, with us in it.”

“Thomas is the cure, Y/N!” She yelled, making you speechless. “His blood is destroying the virus! He can save us all. I need him.”

“Teresa...if all went as planned, he’s long gone by now.”

“No, he can’t be. Newt is dying and Thomas won’t abandon him, you know that. He’ll be slowing them down. I have to get through to him.” Teresa exhaled shakily. “You can go if you want, I’m staying. I have to.”

You looked to the exit then back to Teresa, your cousin, your only family. In the past, most choices you made were clearly the right ones. But now...you had no idea what to do.

You wanted to choose Teresa...you really did. But you still had the temporary serum, you still had the chance to help Newt. “I’m sorry, Teresa.” You voiced, gaining her attention. “I want to stay with you. But I need to find our friends.”

Teresa’s face fell, frowning. “I understand.”

“I’ll come back for you.” Your voice wavered, feeling intense emotion wash over you, suddenly getting the feeling to tell her you loved her. But you cut the goodbye short, running out of the room and rushed to leave the building.

Thankfully, everyone was so focused on packing up to leave, you had no trouble escaping. But you almost didn’t want to leave the building when you saw the hell on earth that was just outside. But you pushed on, making sure you kept the hold on the vial safely in your hand.

You almost jumped when you heard your cousin’s voice echo around the city’s speakers.

“Thomas? Can you hear me? I need you to listen to me. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need you to come back. Thomas, you can save Newt. There’s still time for him. There’s a reason Brenda isn’t sick anymore. It’s your blood, do you understand? She isn’t sick because...you cured her. She doesn’t have to be the only one. You just need to come back, and this will all finally be over. Please, just come back to me. I know you’ll-”

The speakers suddenly cut out, as almost all power in the city was down.

You suddenly felt dread wash over you, you had to find Thomas.

Running through the city as fast as you could, you wished you were a Runner, then maybe your legs wouldn’t cramp up every time you exerted yourself. You felt the heat of fires and explosions as you sprinted, dodging multiple guards and people fighting each other. This wasn’t supposed to happen...

Finally getting to a clearing, you stopped to cease the wheezing in your heavy breaths, until you heard screaming. You quickly rounded the corner to see Thomas and Newt...fighting each other.

No...you were too late...

You ran to them, quickly trying to pull Newt off of Thomas, only for his attention to turn to you and tackle you to the ground. “Newt!” You yelled, tearing up quickly at the sight of his dead eyes and Flared up face. “Newt...”

Thomas pushed Newt off of you, giving you the chance to take the vial out of your pocket, but the new Crank got free of Thomas’ hold and attacked you again, the vial violently being thrown from your hand. You internally cringed when you heard a shatter. Fuck...

You felt your vision get blurry when Newt smashed your head against the pavement, the pain resonating throughout your skull and making you feel lightheaded.

You didn’t know what happened after that, you just woke up and Newt wasn’t attacking you anymore. You didn’t hear the sound of struggle anymore. You looked to your left to see Brenda, a look of pained shock on her face. Then you realized, Thomas was sitting next to Newt. 

“No...” You whispered.

You crawled over to Thomas, looking down at Newt’s body. You could barely see anything due to the tears that welled up in your eyes, making the world around you blurry. You couldn’t do anything but stare numbly at your fallen friend, unaware that Thomas had left.

“Y/N.”

You knew that voice belonged to Gally, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Or do anything when Frypan wrapped his arms around you to give you some sort of comfort, him feeling the same grief as you, if not worse.

Gally felt the pain of the loss too, but seeing everything being burned down too quickly, he had to speak up. “This place is gonna take us down with it if we don’t get outta here...”

Fry gently pulled you away from Newt’s body, reluctantly motioning for Minho to follow. “Come on.” Fry rubbed your shoulder.

You were basically on autopilot on the way to the Berg, where Jorge, Vince, and the kids were waiting to take off. “We have to find Thomas. He went back to the holding facility.” Brenda voiced worryingly.

“That damn kid.” Vince huffed.

The numbness went away enough to remember that you told Teresa that you’d be back for her. You had to find her again, but the Berg was already being lifted up into the air. In your heart, you knew wherever Thomas was, Teresa was most likely with him. That’s something you could rely on, at least.

“Hey...” Gally sat next to you, gently holding your hand. You could faintly see tear marks down his face, his eyes a shade of red and watery. “We’ll find them.”

You wished you believed that, but after everything that’s happened, you felt having hope was childish. You couldn’t bear to hope just for things to end terribly.

“I think I got him!” You heard Jorge shout, everyone, including you, rallying to the front to look out the Berg’s window.

“Yeah, that’s him. I got the hatch.” Brenda said, quickly springing into action.

“Alright, I got him. I got him.” Jorge said, proceeding to carefully turn the Berg around so the now open hatch was facing the burning building roof. “I can’t get any closer!”

Everyone crowded the hatch, calling out for Thomas and Teresa on the roof, reaching out their hands to grab them. Quickly noticing that he was injured badly, you started to reach out as well. “Thomas! Teresa! Come on!”

“Get closer!” Teresa called out.

“Jump!” Vince yelled, his body almost half out of the aircraft trying to reach.

“We gotta get closer!” Gally yelled to Jorge.

“Come on, reach!”

The Berg finally got close enough to where Teresa could help Thomas onto the hatch, everyone quickly pulling him inside. You looked back to Teresa, holding out your hand as far as you could. “Your turn, jump!” You called out. You furrowed your brows in confusion when Teresa made no effort to move, not even to reach out for you. You could see the debate in her eyes, wondering if she actually deserved to live or not. “Don’t leave me!”

Teresa’s eyes softened, almost bringing her to tears upon hearing that short but impactful sentence. In a matter of a few seconds, the next building over was destroyed, large chunks of debris falling, making the roof collapse into itself, taking your cousin with it.

“No!” You sobbed loudly, ripping apart your vocal cords and feeling your heart break in two.

The Berg quickly left the destroyed area, bringing you all back to their base to pack up and finally go to a place called the “Safe Haven.”

You fell back, feeling grief and guilt weigh you down. I shouldn’t have left her...she would be here if I had just stayed...

You looked to see that Thomas passed out, but he was alive. Brenda and Gally quickly patched him up, but he would have to be better treated when the Berg arrived.

Gally just sat next to you the whole ride, not saying anything, not even attempting to give you comforting touches in fear that it would just make things worse, he just sat there to let you know he was there for you.

Everything felt like it was moving too fast, like time sped up without warning or giving you time to adjust. It made you feel nauseous, but you had nothing in your stomach to throw up, besides bile, you which you did upchuck. You huffed at the burning feeling in your throat. “Damn it...”

Gally was right by your side, rubbing your back and telling you everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t be okay. You lost your close friend, and then you lost your only family that you had left. You couldn’t help the new flow of tears, Gally quickly pulling you close to lean on his chest. “It’s okay. Let it out...” He said softly.

“I could’ve...I could’ve...” You hiccupped.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, sweetheart.” Gally hugged you tighter, feeling your body rack with heavy cries.

Hours later, you finally calmed down, the tears ran out a long time ago. But you noticed the machine hum of the Berg stopped. “We’re here!” Jorge called out, making you flinch at the sudden shout. 

“Come on, help me get Thomas situated.” Vince called out, gathering the group to carry him, including Gally.

You stepped out of the Berg to immediately smell a slight salty scent, you never smelled anything like it. And you heard an unfamiliar sound, almost like white noise. It was just after sunset, but it was still a little light out. But you instantly recognized the light tan sandy ground, the water the stretched out for miles and miles to the horizon.

You’d never seen a beach before, not even before your memory wipe before the Maze. It was beautiful, but you would appreciate it better without the rotting feeling of grief weighing on your shoulders.

You walked to where you saw Vince take Thomas, stopping right outside the entrance of the wooden hut. “Is he okay?” You asked softly.

“He’ll be okay.” Vince answered. “He should wake up soon, but I have to go and make sure things have been taken care of while I’ve been gone.” And with that, Vince walked away with a fast pace.

Minho then exited the hut, meeting you with wide eyes. “Hey...” He said awkwardly, making you give a tight lipped smile. “I’m...sorry, about Teresa. I know how important she was to you.”

You didn’t want to cry anymore, you were sick of crying and the thought alone made you exhausted. “I’m sorry about Newt. He...he was a good guy.”

Minho’s lip quivered slightly, but quickly covered it up with a sigh. “We all lost him.”

You brought him into a hug, not knowing what else to do. It was weird at first, you two weren’t the type to show physical affection to each other, but you felt the situation called for it. Minho hugged you back tightly, trying not to cry at the thought of never being able to hug his best friend again.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I think everyone is. It would be weird if they weren’t.” Minho looked past you and smiled to himself weakly. “I think I should get some sleep. I’ll see you later.” You turned to watch Minho walk off, giving Gally a slight nod as he passed him.

Gally walked up to you with a small smile. “I would ask if you’re okay, but I feel like that question is pretty obvious.”

“Yeah...” You whispered. “I’m just fucking exhausted.”

Gally frowned, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Vince already has some beds set up for us. Shall we go?”

You nodded. “That sounds nice.”

You and Gally set up your beds next to each other, at your insistent request. To be fair, in a new environment, you didn’t feel safe at all. Ironic in the “Safe Haven.”

You didn’t get a lot of sleep, constantly worrying about how Thomas was doing. Gally seemed to sense your worry. “He’ll be fine. He’s a stubborn kid.” He said, bringing you closer to him. It did seem to relax you as you fell asleep soon after, but that didn’t stop the influx of nightmares to plague your subconscious. 

The next morning, everyone was up and atom, but you and your friends seemed to have been allowed to sleep in. “Who knew waking up beside you would be so nice?” You opened your eyes to see Gally smiling softly at you. You tried not to blush, temporarily forgetting the events that happened last night.

“You guys are disgusting.” Fry suddenly voiced loudly.

“You jealous, Fry?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I am.”

You chuckled weakly at the interaction, but you sat up and stretched, looking around to see the beach lit up in its full glory. “Wow...” You whispered.

Waking up to such a beautiful sight, it did bring a small smile to your face. You wished so badly that Newt and Teresa were there to share it with everyone too, but you tried to shake those thoughts away.

Later that day, you sat beside Minho and Jorge, watching Gally help build something from afar. “He’s lucky to have you.” Minho smirked, picking at the fruit in his hand.

You smiled slightly, not truly believing it. “It’s the other way around really.”

“Well, whatever. You two are good for each other.” Minho rolled his eyes, making you chuckle. “Thomas...” You heard Minho suddenly whisper, and you looked in the same direction he was, seeing that Thomas was indeed walking through the new area.

You and Minho quickly stood up, slowly walking towards Thomas, along with everyone else behind you guys. Thomas’ eyes were tired, just like the rest of yours probably were. He didn’t smile, you couldn’t blame him. There was nothing to say, so Minho brought Thomas into a hug. You were in so much pain from the loss of your cousin, but Thomas was in love with her, you couldn’t imagine how he felt. He lost two of the most important people to him.

You hugged Thomas too, silently communicating each other’s condolences through the gesture.

That night, you and Gally sat next to each other as everyone else gathered to hear Vince speak at the bonfire that was set up, a celebration of sorts of surviving.

“We have come a long way together.” Vince started. “So many have sacrificed so much to make this place possible. Your friends, and your family. So here's to the ones who couldn't be here, here's to the friends we lost. This place is for you. It's for all of us, but this,” He held up a knife, pointing it to the large stone pillar in front of the crowd, “this is for them. So in your own time, in your own way, come make your peace. And welcome to the Safe Haven!” He cheered, the crowd following suit.

You forced yourself to smile as you held up the drink in your hand, following along with the rest of the crowd that were actually happy to be there. You were too, but it was hard to convey those feelings. Celebrating didn’t feel right, not this soon anyway.

You watched as multiple people lined up to carve their fallen friend’s or family’s names onto the pillar. You knew who’s name Minho would carve, it was obvious. But you didn’t expect Gally to get up and carve a name. Of course you were curious, but it seemed like it would be personal.

You had a name in mind, but you looked over to Thomas who was frowning while reading something. You knew Teresa meant something to him too, they were close, almost as close you and her had been when you were kids. But you two were kids, you two grew apart. You didn’t know her in the end, not truly. You knew you didn’t deserve to be the one to carve her name. You would let Thomas be the one.

You thought back to your past, having more names pop up in your head, only one truly sticking out.

You stood up after the crowd cleared, walking to the stone pillar with the knife in hand. You found the place for the name, thankful that the light from the fire still reached. You held up the knife and started carving the name.

You smiled fondly when it was done.

“Who’s that?” Gally walked up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You took a deep breath. “My baby sister...”

“You had a sister?”

“Yeah, my parents wanted me to choose the name, but she got the Flare along with them before I could give her one. It was only a week later that I finally gave her a name...even if she was dead.”

“How old was she?”

You frowned. “...three days old.”

“Y/N...I’m so sorry.”

You turned around to see Gally’s solemn face, but you smiled weakly. “I just have to believe she would’ve been better off, or in a better place.”

Gally only nodded, taking his hands in yours and leading you away to walk along the shore. “Things will be better here.”

“You really think so?” You asked, not sounding very hopeful.

“It have to be. We fought so hard for this.”

“I hope your right, Gally. What’ll life be like here though?” You wondered aloud.

Gally suddenly smiled giddily. “We’ll build our own city.” He nodded confidently, making you scoff.

“Oh really?” You raised your eyebrows skeptically, but a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah! And we’ll have parties and bonfires every night.”

You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. “Easy there, tiger. We’ve only been here one day. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Come on, dare to dream, Y/N.” He grinned.

“I’ll leave the dreaming up to you, Captain.”

You and Gally stopped and sat on a little incline of the shore to take a break from walking, just watching the sun come up. 

Gally was sitting behind you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and you leaning into him comfortably. You basked in his body heat, shielding you from the slightly chilly air from the ocean tides. It felt nice, the nicest feeling you’ve felt in the past few days.

You looked up to see Gally’s eyes entranced in watching the waves, his lips naturally upturned in a slight smile.

You leaned up and placed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, seeing his eyes briefly close at the feeling and his smile growing into a shy grin. He turned his head and leaned down to place a kiss to your lips. “I love you, you know.”

You grinned. “Yeah, I know. I love you too...so much.”

Looking back to the ocean, you knew you guys were going to be okay now.

~~~~~~~~~~

Welp, yeah...I’m having trouble liking the ending, but I hope y’all do at least. BUT SIKE, this ain’t the end(technically). I’m planning on releasing a bonus chapter reallll soon, for all those heathens that wanted smut ;)

But for those not into that sorta thing, don’t worry! It’s not gonna forward the plot in any way, this chapter is the end of the main story, so you won’t miss anything. Just fluff and smut

[alfredosauce50]

Island Escapade [Ex-con! 2p! America x reader x Denmark] 09

Island Escapade - 09 - The Great Escape Wordcount: 3, 370 The reader is referred to as she/her.

The house was quiet save for the voice of a reporter. Mathias wasn't one to watch something as boring as the news, so he was probably dead asleep in front of the TV. If not, about to be. You appeared in the doorway, unable to help the growing smile at the sight of him nodding off. As peaceful as he looked, you couldn't let him pass out on the couch. "Don't sleep like that, or you'll ruin your neck. C'mon. You have a perfectly usable bed at your disposal."

You patted his cheek until his eyes began to flutter. He merely grumbled, unwilling. "But you’re not in the bedroom." Mathias rolled his head away and screwed his eyes shut. "Night." Never bothering to add anything else, he licked his bottom lip before drifting off again.

You sat beside him with a huff. A week had passed since he recovered, but the exhaustion was there all the same. When you put two and two together, concern washed over you all over again.

If he wasn’t excitable and bounding with energy, he was tired, burnt-out, even. It reflected his mood, which was rarely anything besides a good one. Anger he could manage, but sadness? It drained him like a vampire would suck their victims dry.

"Just because I'm not sharing a room with you." He couldn't seem to handle being alone at all. Not even when he was sleeping. "You're hopeless." Pulling his head onto your lap, he immediately buried his face into your shirt. Despite being unconscious, he took on a relaxed expression as if he knew where he was. It was exactly where he wanted to be. "I can’t keep doing this for you, Mat..."

And yet, here you were. You’d be lying if you said it was just for him.

He was pulling you in again. Getting you to put up with his shit. First, he disappeared, then fell sick. And now, the sad sap didn't need to compete for your attention. Not anymore. It seriously begged the question, what if you never shut him out? Physically, you did. For a while. But emotionally? You didn't want to think about it.

So you were stubborn. So what?

Allen had been filling out his logbook when you wandered off into the living room. Giving all the boxes a brief skim, he left his room to find you. "Looks good to me. Now I gotta get this signed off..."

When he walked out, he saw you on the couch with the dumbass Dane on your lap. He never thought much of you still caring about the guy, especially after being shipped off like that. But watching you comb a hand through his hair made it too jarring. The way you held him, looked at him.

You were still in love with him.

It made his chest ache in the subtlest of ways.

"Am I interrupting something?" He began, the voice making you freeze. The denial was glaring at this point. Allen grinned lazily when you exchanged glances with him and Mathias on your lap. Nervously. "Don't mind me. Just wonderin' if you could spare me a few and sign off my hours." Holding up his booklet at that, he waved it around for emphasis.

"Yeah, of course! Hand it over." He did as told. While you flicked through the pages, he came around to the back to wrap his arms around your neck. There, he watched on. "Let's see... Wow, your hours are coming along nicely. You'll be done with this in no time!"

He bumped his head against yours. "Couldn't do it without ya. Let's say waking up early isn't my strongest suit."

"Oh, yeah?" You ticked everything off with a smile of your own. "I can't believe it's already been three months! I don't think you'll have to stay for the whole sentence. Six months, I mean. Cuz' at this rate, you'll only need..." Your excitement for him faded. "One month." In other words, he already stayed most of his welcome. Three-quarters of it.

Allen seemed to be on the same page as you.

"One month until I'm a free man again, huh?" He took his logbook and set that aside. "And I was beginning to like it here. But nothing lasts forever, I guess." Closing his eyes at that, he joined you on the couch with a soft sigh. He never said anything after that. He didn't need to. The silence was deafening, and both of you shared the same sentiments without opening your mouths.

"I'm gonna miss you, Al." Your gaze saddened. He furrowed his brows. And he was trying to avoid the emotional aspect of it. You, however, jumped straight to it. In your defense, nothing lasts forever didn't seem to apply to you the same way it did to him. What you wanted to stay didn't. What you wanted to go away never budged. Allen and Mathias. Like Yin and Yang, they were the perfect opposites of one another.

Allen reached out to pinch your cheek affectionately.

"What do you mean? I'm still here."

You hardened your stare. "Not in a month, you won't."

He nodded slowly in defeat. Then, he responded with a low chuckle. "Always so serious, aren't you, doll? You didn't have to say it like that. We can't help what we can't change." Pulling out his phone, he directed your attention to what was on the screen. "What we can help is animal trafficking, though. What do you know? What your stupid ex did gave the Interpol good, useable intel."

Who would've thought?

After scanning the article's contents, you sucked in a gasp, completely enraptured by the news. "And you never told me? Allen, this is amazing! Oh my God, we're getting our turtles back!" The said man managed a lopsided grin to reflect your delight. While you shook Mathias awake, violently, the reporter on TV announced the news—'Lucky ferry mix up leads to animal trafficking bust'

"I figured it would find its way to you," Allen said.

Mathias groaned while he was rocked back and forth. "Guh... What... What's happening?" He croaked. An earthquake? No way. When he saw the look on your face, he snapped out of his daze. But nothing could've prepared him for what he was about to hear.

"Mat, you did it! We're getting our turtles back!" You exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. That wasn't enough to express the gratitude and relief surging through your system, however. "I can't believe it! You actually did something right! Not that you don't ever, but what you did was really stupid--" He shook his head in shock. Wait, did he hear you correctly? You climbed onto his lap and squeezed him again.

He must’ve. Otherwise, why would you be sitting on him? "--I'll still be mad at you for it, but at least it wasn't for nothing—!"

He returned the embrace slowly, still unable to fathom what you were saying. "Woah, woah, woah. What are you talking about? What's up?" Nevertheless, he found himself lighting up at your tone of voice. You were overjoyed, and the euphoria seemed to be targeted at him. Combined with the hug you gave him that only grew tighter and tighter, his melancholy was soon no more.

"The eggs, you idiot!" You pulled away to gleam at him. "The police found them! They must've cracked them down when you explained why you were undocumented in America!"

It finally clicked, as evident in his change in expression. "Ha! We did it, we did it!" Mathias's nostrils flared as he stood up with you in his arms. "I told you not to worry! This was always a matter for the police, kæreste," While he spun you around with great enthusiasm, you laughed at his hypocrisy. A matter for the police, he said. His stupidity never failed to amaze you. For once, it was a good kind of amazement.

"You're just lucky, Mat. I don't know why God keeps smiling at you. Just never do that again." In the heat of the moment, you kissed his cheek. Mathias widened his eyes, and after some hesitation, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. Allen looked away. This was so hard to watch. The Dane was back to murmuring something in your ear, something he couldn't pick up, but whatever it was, you didn't like it.

You were set back on the ground again. You had the choice to move away, and yet, you didn't, and instead, stayed put with your face in his chest. He coiled his arms around your form. And he was smiling, wistfully.

Allen had no idea what was going on in Mathias's head. Whether he was really the person you thought he was, he had you wrapped around his finger. He wanted to help you. He really did. But what if this was for the best? If you couldn't stay away from him, there must've been something about the guy that made him so worth forgiving.

Or was it just his insecurity talking?

Seeing you so infatuated got him rethinking what kind of person he was himself. Mathias had his life together. A successful scientist, and now, a hero. That goof was on the right side of the law. He wasn't. He was a nobody. After this sentence, he was back to job-skipping around Ibiza. And if that didn't check out, nothing was stopping him from living up to the name Mathias insisted on him.

A criminal. A bum.

So what the hell was he thinking, trying to save you from something you didn't need saving from? He was the one who needed to get his shit together. Not Mathias, not you.

The night called for celebration. With Allen's speedy progress and Mathias's lucky break, you were getting a taste of the exuberance yourself. Your work was only getting better and better. You've never felt this on track with your responsibilities. The same couldn't be said for other aspects of your life, however.

You had no idea how to act around Mathias anymore. So what did you do? You avoided him at all costs. After spending the first twenty minutes at the back of a rave, you took Allen's hand and pulled him away. When he shot you a weird look, you offered him a sheepish smile. "Just trust me. I know a better place to be!" He could barely hear your shouts over the pandemonium of EDM and a screaming crowd.

While you led him to the inside of the club, which already looked like the aftermath of a wild night, deserted and strewn with trash, he let out a low chuckle. "What's a better place to be than a party like that? This dump?" He grinned, earning a heated glare from you.

"Quit being such a smartass and follow me."

You both appeared in a separate pool room. While he skidded to a stop, he was prepared to object. "Don't have to do that when you're—" Allen trailed off as he took in his surroundings. "—dragging me." His tanned complexion took on a bright blue glow from the heated pool. Next to the huge body of water was a minibar. Behind the counter was a lone bartender, scrubbing away at a glass.

"And I thought I liked to party." He remarked in awe, turning to you with a scoff. "This is one of the coolest spots I've ever been to."

"You'd be surprised. This is the party island, after all." Allen wiped his hand down your smug face as if to smear invisible dirt all over it. "Eugh--I didn't take you to be a bad sport, Al." The man shrugged off your annoyance with a playful smirk of his own. Of course, the animosity was short-lived on your end, and you were back to pulling him around. This time, to the minibar he set his sights on.

"Just didn't think you'd be the type to... You know. Be like me. Self-indulge. I'm good at that." He took a seat on one of the stools while you ordered a round of drinks. Allen blinked. It only felt like yesterday that you chewed him out for trying to get in some beer at the fundraising party. "... But I guess everyone needs an escape."

You flashed him a tight smile. The bartender rocked his mixer back and forth, filling the backdrop with the rattling of ice and booze. "What do you know? I didn't think you'd be one to be so philosophical." He wanted to get hot-headed. But that wasn't quite right—he only thought he would. He always had a bad temperament, a bad attitude, even. Antonio could agree with him on that.

And yet, it was almost as if he didn't have an angry bone in his body. Not here he didn't. Not when you were the one giving him the jabs.

You craned your head to the side thoughtfully. "I was wrong about you, Allen." He froze up. Nevertheless, he darted his wary eyes to your tender expression to watch you speak. In that space in time, the same thought occurred between you both. Why are you looking at me like that? Why he seemed so worried all of a sudden, and why—

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a shake of the head. "Don't." Your tender gaze was no more. It was replaced by dejection. "I'm not doing this with you, doll."

You scoffed at him, defeated. "Do what? I was just trying to say I'm proud of you, Allen. You've changed. You're not so much of a—"

Allen rose a brow. "—a bum?" He cut in. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart. I really am. But you were right about me all along." He took a long sip of whatever you ordered him. While you could only watch him do as he pleased, helplessly, he downed every last drop before slamming down the glass with a wince. "Once this is all over, I'm going back to who I used to be."

"And what's that?" You exasperated, eyes wide with grief. Before the heat blurring your vision could turn into tears, you blinked it away. "A criminal? You aren't a criminal, Al. You aren't the same as you used to be! Why the hell would I even be so close to you if you were? Use your brain, you idiot. You're just as stupid as Mathias, sometimes," His lips separated ajar at that. He was at a loss for words.

Out of all the things you could cry about, you were crying about him.

"Yeah, so my point exactly. He may be stupid, but at least he's got his shit together!" Allen sighed sharply. "And I'm probably just stupid like you said. There's nothing great about me."

Your face fell. His head was turned away, and he was showing a bitter glower. This was why he blew up? The feelings of inadequacy were always there, and it came back to haunt him like a ghost now that his sentence was drawing to an end. No wonder he was so closed off in the afternoon. He wanted to stop thinking about his own life. With you around, he was hard-working, playful, and sensitive.

But by himself, he was nothing. Without this community service, which was more of a getaway than anything, a ruse, even, he had nothing to try for. So he had everything to lose himself in. Drinking, partying, and getting handsy with random chicks, whatever it needed to feel alive.

"If there's nothing great about you, why am I here?" You began in a faint murmur. "I wanted to hang out with you, Al."

Allen hung his head. "Don't start with me. Don't do this to me."

Now, he wasn't exactly a poet, but what he really meant to say was this—don't give me hope. Don't make me try to be a better person. It was so much easier to stay where he was, here at the bottom of the world, all because he couldn't get any lower.

You shook your head stubbornly. "I do what I want. I pick my own friends. If I like you, then that's my business."

"Well, that's the problem, doll. I don't think you just like me." He admitted, fully expecting mortification on your end. Much to his surprise, your steely gaze on him remained unfaltering. Hell, it even looked like you were beckoning him to continue. "If I could, I'd snatch your pretty little ass away from that Danish douchebag the second I had the chance."

Okay, now that got your face lighting up. All until it looked like Christmas at the Vatican. The blush was setting in, and it seemed like you had your ears peeled for what was next. "Then why don't you? I'm right here." It was Allen's turn to get flustered, but the feeling was short-lived when he saw how you looked at him. There was untold sadness behind your eyes. Even tiredness. Dread.

He finally understood why you were so on board with him. Why you liked him so much, and why you wanted him to see himself the way you saw him.

"I can't keep doing this. With Mathias. One of these days, I'm gonna make a mistake I'll really regret." You urged, reaching out to squeeze his wrist. "I need you to help me get him out of my house. I can't think with him around." That was right. He'd been drawing you in again, just like every other time you had an argument and decided to shut him out. But this had to stop, at least for a little while.

"Promise me you'll do that before you leave."

Allen nodded, albeit reluctantly. He didn't know what you were planning, but at least it didn't exactly involve him. "Sure. But what's the plan after that, boss? You're not gonna bootycall me the second he goes, are you? I hope you don't."

You shot him a heated glare. "No, you dingus. I just need some time to think."

He closed his eyes contentedly. This conversation ended on a happier note than he expected. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say." Allen laughed when you slapped his shoulder. He then opened his eyes to stare at you through his eyebrows. "But I'm still not taking it back. I'm a criminal, dollface. It's a mindset, not a state of being. I don't have money. I don't have shit. So one of these days, I could get desperate."

He leaned in forebodingly. "I could steal stuff. Rob a bank. Who the fuck knows. So keep that in mind when you do your thinking. I'm not good enough for you, babe. He is."

You were fuming through your nostrils at this point. Humoring him on his fragile self-esteem was one thing, but once it involved you, the line had to be drawn. Especially when he was talking about Mathias like the Mr. Right he very much wasn't. "Take that back." He turned away to ignore you. "Fuck you, Al. I thought you of all people would know how he can be. But I guess you're not done brooding about yourself."

Reaching out to your untouched glass, you gulped down the contents knowing damn well you couldn't handle your alcohol. You slammed it down when you were done, alerting Allen to spin your way. Well, I'll be damned, he thought. You had some attitude yourself. "You're a better person than you think you are. You're everything I could ask for in someone I could trust."

He couldn't believe it, but he was letting you get to him. Allen swore an oath he'd try everything he could to keep that asshat in check. It was the least he could do as a friend. That determination waxed and waned for a while, but it was finally coming back as he listened to you speak.

"You're everything he isn't."

That also begged the question—why did you hate the idea of getting back with Mathias so much? Besides his persistence, entitlement, and everything in between, something major must've gone down.

And Allen had a feeling he was about to find out what.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Brooklyn 99 AU? If you haven’t seen that, just think like an Office or Parks and Rec-esque work sitcom

“Make Terry do it,” Santiago whispered.  “He’s good at babysitting.”

“Make Terry do what?”  Jeffords looked up from his yogurt, expression concerned.

The informal conference in the precinct break room exchanged a glance.

“We may have arrested a few underage tourists from out of town,” Peralta said.  “They may or may not have been drunk, but, uh...”

Peralta glanced at Boyle.  “But we left them unsupervised in the back of the police van for, like, two minutes,” Boyle explained quickly.  “So by the time we got the breathalyzer working, they were all sober.”

“They all puked?” Scully asked, appalled.

Santiago shook her head sadly.  “They all morphed.”

“Wait.  You mean...”  Jeffords craned his neck to look out across the main room.  He caught a glimpse of the group of kids currently sitting in the Nine-Nine’s holding cell, and his expression went slack in horror.  “No.  No.  No, Terry has not had nearly enough low-fat peach-mango yogurt to deal with this today.”

“They’re famous!”  Peralta made jazz hands at the rest of the squad.  “That’s kind of cool, right?  That Marco kid’s a movie star, Tobias definitely counts as a cryptid, and... the others... do stuff...”

“Yeah.”  Santiago crossed her arms.  “They kill people.”

“There was a war on!” Peralta protested.  “Aliens invaded, Boyle’s mom got possessed by a scary slug thing and tried to kill me —”

“She said she was sorry for mistaking the Sharing for a ferret-themed lomage fanclub,” Boyle said.

“Yeah, no, anyone could make that mistake.”  Peralta pivoted back to Santiago.  “The point is, they killed people as part of a war.  And that, like, doesn’t count or something.”

“What’d they do?” Jeffords asked.

"It was only a few murders,” Boyle said.

“Today!”  Jeffords gestured to the front room, where the delinquents in question were clearly sitting in their holding cell.  “Why’d we arrest them?”

Santiago pulled out her phone, calling up the relevant statement.  “They’re claiming they were provoked when, quote, ‘Some guy wolf-whistled Cassie, and then that guy’s biker gang objected to Rachel’s attempts to rip his arms off and feed them to him, and really it was their fault all along.’”  She looked up.  “Signed Jake Berenson.  Which begs the question: did we get ID from any of them?”

“They all morphed,” Boyle pointed out.  “Who else could it possibly be?”

“So that explains the entire cell’s worth of muscular guys with mild-to-moderate grizzly bear wounds downstairs,” Scully said, staring upward in wonder.

“That’s it, we’re all babysitting them,” Jeffords declared.  “And by that, I mean that we’re getting them out of our hair as fast as we legally can, whether or not we charge them with anything in the process.”

“Agreed,” Santiago said, shoving open the door to the main room.

The scene in the holding cell was... not pandemonium.  Jake and Cassie were sitting on the bench at the back of the cell, Cassie’s head leaning on Jake’s shoulder.  Rachel leaned against the bars, picking at her nails.  Tobias sat on the crossbar next to her, preening.  All in all, the kids seemed to be cooperating, which was a mercy.  It wasn’t like the Nine-Nine had the budget for even one-tenth of the equipment necessary to actually contain an Animorph, after all.

Still, it was probably for the best that some wise soul had moved all the other prisoners downstairs.

“...and you can conceal up to 15 knives in the interior pockets alone,” Diaz was telling Marco.  He watched with rapt fascination, leaning over her desk, as she unfolded a butterfly knife one-handed and then swung it closed again.

“Rosa, did you let him out of the cell?” Santiago asked, exasperated.

“Nope.”  Diaz shrugged.  “Must’ve broken out on his own.”

“He didn’t break anything,” Jake called from inside the cell.  “Marco has not damaged or defaced any government property, nor have any of the rest of us.”

“And yet somehow, there are not one but two delinquents meandering unrestrained around my precinct.”  Holt had emerged from his office, and was now looking slowly from Marco to Ax.

“Yeeeaaah, he’s not technically under arrest.”  Peralta jerked his chin at Ax.  “Seeing as he’s not from Earth, we probably can’t arrest him?  And even if we can, it definitely wouldn’t be worth the headache of trying to charge him with anything in intergalactic courts.”

“If you’re not under arrest, you may leave,” Holt told Ax sternly.

Ax straightened up from where he had been eating... something... off the floor of the microwave.  “I am not going anywhere without my friends!”

“That’s so beautiful.”  Boyle swooned against the door frame.  “It’s like you share a six-way love whose unmatched intensity pours out of you...”

“Not in front of the kids, Charles,” Peralta said.

“What?  I was just—”

“If you’re allowed to leave, could you at least go get us some hot dogs or something?” Rachel asked Ax, ignoring the cops.

“Nah, hot dogs are a Chicago thing,” Jake pointed out.  “Go for knishes, or pizza, or... what else is in New York?”

“Those little paper packets of honey-roasted peanuts,” Cassie suggested.

Everyone glanced over when there was a loud thud from across the room, and then back to the conversation when they realized it was just Marco trying, and failing, to get one of Diaz’s knives to stick in the surface of her desk.

«Tacos.»  Tobias looked unerringly at Scully.  «There has to be a taco truck around here somewhere, right?»

“Don’t you worry.”  Scully pulled his partner to his feet, gasping at the effort of unsticking Hitchcock from his comfortable chair.  “Me and Hitchcock’ll show him all the best food trucks in Brooklyn.”

“How many — any — are there?” Ax asked eagerly.

“Two hundred seven, if you don’t count pushcarts or ice cream vendors,” Hitchcock said immediately.

“We shall return with a bounty as great as three sets of human arms can bear,” Ax promised Rachel.

She flashed him a thumbs-up.

“Hot wings!” Cassie called.  “That’s a New York thing, right?  Hot wings?”

“Have we got a sauce for you,” Scully promised, a hand on Ax’s shoulder.

Jeffords ran to intercept them at the door.  “You can’t just wander in and out of the precinct with suspects, Scully!”

«If you don’t like Ax coming and going, you could always just arrest him,» Tobias said acidly.

There was a long silence.  During this silence, Ax slipped out the door with Hitchcock and Scully behind him.

“Kids these days and their attitudes,” Jeffords complained, spinning around too late to intercept Ax and then turning back to give Tobias his sternest stare.  “I should speak to your parents or guardians, young man.”

Tobias laughed.  «Joke’s on you, since I don’t have any parents or guardians.»

“What?”  Jeffords ran forward to press himself against the bars, appalled.  “Do you want to come home with me?  Cagney and Lacey keep telling me they want an older brother, and Sharon makes excellent chicken cacciatore — you don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“He’s ours and you can’t have him,” Rachel snapped, standing up to get in Jeffords’s face.  She didn’t seem to care much that she had to tilt her head back at a 45-degree angle to make eye contact, and somehow succeeded in conveying that she was looking down at him.

“Duuuuuuude!” Marco exclaimed loudly from across the room.  “You really mean it?”

“Sure.”  Diaz rested a hand on the hatchet that lay across her desk.  “I teach people how to throw ‘em all the time.”

“Marco!”  Rachel turned away to whack on the bars.  “Quit fraternizing with the enemy.”

Peralta gasped loudly.  “We’re the enemy?” he asked in delight.  “Are we your nemeses?  Does this mean that we’re as scary as the Yeerk Empire?”

“Why?”  Jake stood up, making eye contact through the bars.  “Do you want to be?  Are you saying that you’re controllers?”  He took a step forward, not breaking his stare.  “Or was that just an expression of sympathy for their cause?”

“Uh.”  Peralta laughed nervously.  He’d taken several steps back in the last few seconds.  “You know what, never mind.  We’re cool, right?  Alllllll cool.  Super cool.  The coolest.”

“That’s easy to say for someone currently holding us against our will.”  Jake still sounded unamused.  “We have complied fully with your demands up until now, and will continue to do so unless you give us a reason not to.”

“Are you threatening my detective?” Holt asked, very mildly.

“Are you charging me with additional crimes?”  Jake’s voice wasn’t mild at all.

“Have I mentioned that I’m a big fan of you guys’s work?” Peralta asked, making a grand gesture to include all of the Animorphs.  “Because I’m thinking maybe that didn’t come through.  Huge fan.  Love the way you squash those yeerks.  It’s a delight having you here.”

“Of course we’ll go along with whatever you think is best, Officers.”  Jake sat back down.  He had yet to look away from Peralta.

“Amy I think I changed my mind about having kids,” Perlata said all in one breath, smiling and nodding as he continued to back away from the cell.

“No, chicks dig hatchets,” Diaz was explaining to Marco.  “Guys tend to get all weird about it if you start flinging weaponry around.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense.”  He was still hanging on her every word.

“The trick with guys is to pull out a little bit of that feelings shit.”  Seeing the expression on his face, she shook her head.  “You don’t have to go full-hog and reveal your real name on the first date or anything.”

Marco laughed.  “Oh good.  Because I am not looking for that kind of commitment.  I usually don’t want any commitment to anyone, ever.”

“Good policy.”  Diaz clapped him on the arm.  “Nah, with dudes it only takes a little bit of sappy stuff.  I’m talking a moderate-tier confession, like...”  She considered for a second.  “I keep one of my knives hidden in my boot, and it doesn’t set off metal detectors when I gotta work government buildings.”

“Uh-huh.”  Marco bent over the sheet of paper on his lap, scribbling frantically.

“Are you taking notes?” Rachel called, disgusted.

“More importantly, is he taking notes on the back of his own arrest form?”  Santiago rushed across the room to rescue the rest of the paperwork from Marco’s defacing.

“Nah, it’s cool.”  Diaz held up the back side of Marco’s paper.  “It’s just the arrest sheet where Peralta made four attempts to spell ‘Aximili’ before declaring that we probably couldn’t arrest an alien anyway.”

“Those two events were entirely unrelated!” Peralta said loudly.

“Of course, we all believe you.”  Santiago leaned over to pat him on the arm.

“If they can’t arrest Ax, can they arrest you?” Cassie asked Tobias.

He shrugged, or at least it looked like that’s what he did.  «They still haven’t processed me, so I suspect not.»

“We are going to process you,” Boyle said, “just as soon as we figure out how to scan your fingerprints.”

«But I’m not under arrest yet, am I?»

“Aren’t you guys legally required to release him, then?”  Cassie turned back to the room at large.

“We can hang on to all of you for twenty-four hours,” Santiago called back.

“The question is,” Peralta muttered, “do we want to?”

“I’m gonna keep this one around to bring me iced coffees and gas up my motorcycle.”  Diaz was watching Marco polish one of her axes.  “For a kid, he’s pretty dope.”

Marco gasped, a hand over his heart.  “You don’t mean it!”

She held up a finger.  “Too sappy.”

“I have a hatchet?”  He held it up in offering.

“Better.”

“Speaking of our legal rights,” Rachel said, “can I call my mom?  She’s a lawyer, after all.”

“Yeah, well my mom’s a teacher,” Peralta said immediately.  “And you don’t hear me bragging about it.”

“That’s not the point.”  Santiago sighed loudly.

“The point is,” Holt interjected, “she asked for a lawyer, and we need to provide her with one.”

«Can your mom be my lawyer too?» Tobias asked.

Rachel shrugged.  “Sure.  I think.  Jake already took his phone call, and Cassie wasted hers on checking in at the hospital—”

“I just wanted to be sure that we didn’t permanently injure that man,” Cassie said mildly.  “Only showed him the error of his ways.”

“You did that, all right,” Diaz said.  “I like your style, for what it’s worth.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I like your style,” Marco breathed, staring up at Diaz.  “Teach me everything.”

“You want to be a cop?” Cassie asked him.

“What?  No!”  Marco turned quickly to Diaz.  “No offense, it’s nothing personal, they don’t mean it, but also...”

“Nah, it’s cool.  You’re a smart kid,” Diaz said.  “Cops are losers.”

“Excuse you,” Santiago said, “Could a loser win both the ‘Most Organized Seminar’ and ‘Highly Relevant Community Announcements’ awards from the same commissioner in one year?”  She gestured pointedly to a matching set of plaques on her desk.  “Checkmate.”

“I have brought a bounty of wings!” Ax declared.  At least, it was presumably Ax speaking from behind the teetering stack of take-out boxes that went clear over his head and somehow didn’t include the four additional plastic bags of Chinese food hanging off his arms.

«Ax-Man, you are a god among insects,» Tobias said.

“Not on top of the binders!”  Santiago lunged to shield them with a drawer before Ax’s tower of food boxes could topple onto the front desk.

“Can I have some?” Peralta asked wistfully, watching as Ax slotted an entire pizza box through the bars to where Jake and Cassie could pry it open.

“Here Jakey, we got you a tub of Wing Slut sauce.”  Scully set it reverently on Peralta’s desk.

“Really, you shouldn’t have.”  Peralta scooted his chair back several inches, eyeing the tub with suspicion.

As the better part of the Nine-Nine watched in horrified fascination, Tobias tossed his head back and swallowed a Buffalo wing whole.  After a second he made a hacking sound and spit up the bone, now completely cleaned of all meat.

“You eat wings?” Boyle asked, leaning in to peer through the bars.  “Is that cannibalism?”

“It’s an open question,” Cassie said.  She folded a paper plate taco-style to protect the lo mein inside, sliding it out to Ax.  “Can you make sure Marco eats something with lots of carbs before he goes hatchet throwing?”

Ax took the plate, saluting her with his free hand.  “The sauce is most excellent, sell-lent, when consumed through a straw,” he told Peralta in a conspiratorial whisper as he went by.

Peralta pushed to his feet.  “Yep, I am never having kids, and I am never eating food ever again.”

“Human bodies do not continue living if you do not consume sufficient nutrients.”  Ax pointedly set the lo mein in front of Marco.

“Ha!” Peralta said.  “That’s what everyone said about drinking water, and yet!”

Marco grabbed a handful of noodles straight off the plate and dropped them in his mouth.  “The bagels might be better here, but you can’t beat California’s Chinese takeout,” he concluded after chewing for several seconds.  “Sorry,” he added, glancing up at Diaz.

“If you suck up any harder, you’re going to injure something,” Rachel snarked.

“Why, are you jealous?”  Marco batted his eyelashes at her.

“No, she just remembers that we’re all under arrest right now,” Jake said loudly.  “And that we’re under no obligation to say or do anything without a lawyer.”

“Which is why I’m here.  To ensure you do not talk yourself into any more trouble than you already have.”

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer.

“Hi Aunt Naomi,” Jake said, voice small.

Rachel rounded on him.  “You used your phone call to contact my mom?”

Jake held up both hands.  “I didn’t say anything about the alcohol!”

“Alleged alcohol,” Naomi said loudly.  “Which these minors have not admitted to purchasing or consuming, because they have not made any statement admissible in a court of law, because you have been holding them all here illegally without an advocate.”

“Ma’am, I think you’ll find that we made every effort to secure advocacy and legal representation for these children with all due haste.”  Holt moved smoothly across the room to shake her hand, and then ushered her into a chair.  “Detective Peralta deemed it necessary to hold them here for their own safety until such time as we could obtain statements from everyone involved.”

“Has anyone pressed charges yet?”  Naomi sat in the folding chair like a queen on a throne, and glared at Holt until he — with a wincing glance at the dust on the seat — sat across from her.

“No, ma’am.  The only person likely to do so is still at the hospital,” Holt explained.

“Oh yeah, he said he wasn’t going to,” Cassie called over.

“What,” Peralta said, laughing.  “You just called him on the phone and talked him out of it?  Just like that?”

Cassie shrugged.  “I asked nicely.”

“It’s Cassie,” Marco told Diaz in a stage-whisper.  “She does stuff like that.”

“Hardcore.”  Diaz looked Cassie over.

“But I’m still more hardcore than her, right?”

“Too desperate.”

“I have four knives?”

“Better.  Only four?”

“Where else am I gonna put them?  I can’t morph and wear a leather coat at the same time.”

“Point.”

“If they’re not being charged with anything,” Naomi said overtop all of this, “and they’ve already given their statements, then you need to release them from custody.”

“I’m not comfortable doing that if we’re not releasing them into the hands of a parent or legal guardian,” Holt said.  “I’m given to understand from their earlier statements that Jake is your nephew and Rachel is your daughter?”

Naomi nodded.

“Then I can only release those two to you.”  Holt seemed genuinely regretful that this was the case.  Then again, it was Holt, so it was hard to tell for sure.

«Look, if Jake can go with his aunt, I can go with my uncle, right?» Tobias said.

“Yes, that would be acceptable,” Holt said.

“Thank you, human captain.”  Ax gave a small bow to Holt.  “I accept this responsibility.”

“Wait, wait.”  Santiago looked Ax over.  “No, we’re not going to just... How old are you, anyway?”

“I am eight-six years old,” Ax announced.

“Eighty-six,” she repeated.

Ax stared back at her, implacable.

Holt sighed.  “Obviously, he is referencing the fact that andalite years are approximately point-two-four-one-zero-nine times the length of human years.  However, since the law does not specify whose years one must count in order to determine whether an individual is over the age of eighteen, I believe I take his point.”

“Does this mean I’m eighty-six too?” Marco asked quickly.

“Were you born on Earth?”  Santiago raised her eyebrows at him.

“Uh.”  He glanced at Diaz.  “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

Diaz gave him a subtle fist-bump.

“My son is not an adult, nor does he mean to indicate that he wishes to be charged as an adult,” Naomi said quickly.

“‘Son’?” Marco squeaked.

“‘Son’?” Holt asked, frowning.

“Yes?”  Peralta stuck his head up, took stock of the scene, and quickly sat back down.

“Son.”  Naomi stared straight at Holt.  “In fact, I will be taking all four of my children, both adoptive and biological, when I leave here today.”

“You adopted me?” Marco demanded.  “Do I get a say in this?”

“Do you have proof to back up your assertion that you are these children’s mother?”  Holt hadn’t broken Naomi’s stare either.

“The way I see it, you have two choices.”  Naomi reached into her purse, pulling out one of her own business cards and setting it on the desk between them.  “Either you allow us to walk out of here, in which case I promise you’ll never see any of us again... Or you continue to hold these minors without formal charges and without counsel, in which case I promise to pursue legal action against whatever stray bricks of this precinct are left standing after my daughter and her friends exercise their legal right to exit the building with as much force as they deem necessary.  Which option would you prefer?”

“See?” Jake whispered loudly to Rachel.  “I knew I made the right call by calling your mom.”

“I take your point,” Holt said, after a moment of consideration.  “Very well, you and your children may leave.  Do keep them out of trouble in the future, won’t you?”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Holt.”  Naomi shook his hand.

Boyle was quickly fumbling for the lock on the cell door.  “Can I have your autograph?” he asked Rachel as she went by.

Rachel looked him up and down, and then kept going without a word.

“Here, I’ll do it.”  Cassie took the paper and sharpie from him.

“Can you make it out to ‘Nikolaj’?” Boyle asked, eyes wide.

“Maybe.”  She uncapped the pen.  “Can you spell that?”

“N-I-K-O-L-A-J, oh and can you add something about always listening to his dreams, and also the music of Diana Ross?”

Slowly, Cassie looked up at Boyle.  She capped the pen — she’d settled for “to Nikolaj, from Cassie” — and handed everything back to him.

“Marco, dude, we’re going,” Jake said.  He currently had both arms around Marco’s waist and was pulling him backward from Diaz’s desk.

“But... but...”  Marco looked up at Diaz.  “Call me?”  Immediately he shook his head and said, “too desperate?”

She smirked.  “Nah, you’re cool.”

He let out a lovelorn sigh and went limp, which was all the excuse Jake needed to haul him over one shoulder and head out of the building.  Cassie and Ax followed, Tobias fluttering up to land on Rachel’s shoulder as she headed out too.  Naomi brought up the rear, casting a pointed look around the room as she went.

“Man,” Jeffords sighed, “I should’ve gotten an autograph for my kids too.”  And then he rounded on Peralta, midway through sneaking the Wing Sluts sauce tub into the trash can.  “What did we learn today, Peralta?”

He considered.  “Lawyers suck?”

“No!” Jeffords said.  “Well, they do, but... Santiago?”

She looked up from where she’d been making an incident report to this exact effect.  “Next time we’re thinking about arresting a whole batch of superpowered child soldiers on questionable misdemeanor charges... don’t?”

Holt nodded gravely.  “Well said, Santiago.”

[thesaunatest]

MY HUGE THEORY ON EL’S PLOTLINE IN S4

before you guys even start, YES I know that 99.9% of what I say is going to be wrong but this is literally just for fun.

its march 1986, middle of the school year and el HATES school

when we left her she was barely literate and had just started getting accostomed to speaking full sentences, NOWHERE NEAR a 9th grade level, so shes struggling in her classes to say the least

on top of that, she barely knows how to socialize with other people, so shes evidently getting picked on

with joyce and jonathan both working to keep the family afloat, will and el get left alone alot

but outside of the party, they socially have nothing in common

in fact, will is adapting to the new town a whole lot better than el. he fit right in with all the creative kids he met in class, but el didnt mesh with that crowd

anyway, our girl is sturggling

the only time she really has fun is when she visits hawkins, or when someone from the party visits them

which leads us to spring break

mike obviously comes to visit, and el doesnt want them to waste a single second so she begs mike and will to come explore the town with her

at this point joyce is already in her detective mode, hatching a rescue plan for hopper so she doesnt notice theyre gone

and jonathan is battling the heartbreak of nancy ghosting him when she was supposed to come visit

so the trio goes off on an adventure without anyone noticing.......... or so they think

because brenner is back, and he knows el is with the byers, but he cant go and snatch her because he doesnt have the resources all the way in california

in fact, he doesnt have the resources at all. his numbers experiment is seen as a catastrophic failure that lead to the deaths of hundreds of lab employees

the only way for him to redeem himself in the community, and gain his funding back is to present his peers with proof that the project can work, so he needs to get one of his numbers back

el is the only one he can track down, but he doesnt think he can do it himself. if she saw him, she could just kill him with her powers, he assumes because he doesnt know she lost them

so who does he employ to get el back to hawkins? lonnie byers

its almost too easy. it doesnt take much to bribe lonnie, and hey, its not like its his kid. so lonnie accepts the bribe, and goes all the way out to california to find el

he shows up at the byers house..... only to find it completely deserted. so he waits

and the trio finds him there after their day out (why are you here? what do you want? where are mom and jonathan?)

and lonnie, being as crafty as he is, comes up with a good excuse on the fly (hes craftier than i am because i genuinely have no idea what he would say)

anyway, he gets them in his car and on their way back to hawkins

jonathan shows up after theyve already left, and is too stoned tired to think anything of the empty house

and joyce is already halfway to russia

will knows his father. he knows that his father doesnt give a shit about him, the family, or anything about hawkins. he knows that his father wouldnt get involved in anything unless he had something to gain. so hes wraking his brain

maybe.... lonnie pulls over to take a suspicious phone call? maybe will figures out an inconsistency in his story? either way, the gang is onto lonnie and figures that they gotta get away from him and get back to joyce and jonathan

they tuck and roll out of the car. idk. all that matters is that they get out of there

as theyre rolling out of the car, el bonks her head a little and has a quick flashback to her time in the lab

since her intuition is always spot on, she takes this as a cue the breener is back and lonnie is working for him

she tells the boys it isnt safe to go back to california or hawkins, so they come up w an alternative plan, somewhere neither brenner nor lonnie would think to look for them

and while theyre on the road, they stop at a diner to eat (dont ask me where they got the money) and we get will leaving an emotional voicemail home, probably sobbing to jonathan about how much he means to will, which gives el an idea

because who has the resources to help her, as well as a desire for vengeance on brenner? kali

el uses her superb hitchiking skills to get them to chicago

maybe she just has some hints of her powers left, but it isnt too hard for el to find kali

she explains everything thats happened, and lets kali know that if she want revenge, the opportunity is hers

unfortunately, lonnie was hot on their trail, and called for reinforcements

theyre ambushed by the few employees brenner has working for him. initially, everyone is hiding, assisted by kali’s powers

but el knows they arent leaving empty handed, and would rather get taken away then have kali’s freedom taken from her

so el reveals herself, followed by mike because he wont leave her, followed by will because he wont leave mike

all three get taken away, back to hawkins lab, but now kali is even more motivated to bring down the lab once and for all

so kali and her gang get to hawkins, almost simultaniously with jonathan, who has been looking for his family in a frenzy since the morning he woke up to find eveyone gone, without even a note or a phone call, as well as argyle, who came along for the ride

the video store is being used as home base this season, so thats the first place they go, where they find steve, shortstaffed and not knowing whats going on because the whole team ditched him

they catch him up to speed on how EVERYONES GONE and steve catches them up to speed on how EVERYONE IS GETTING MURDERED

meanwhile, brenner has three predicaments

1) no matter what he does to el, what kind of torture he inflicts, she isnt using her powers because she doesnt have them. she tells him this several times. he refuses to believe it

2) lonnie byers is demanding his payment, which he didnt recieve because the deal was that he bring el to them, and he couldnt even do that

3) he has to find a way to dispose of mike and will, who he had no intention of bringing into the lab but theyre here and they know everything

and this is the moment where mike screws up by letting them know that people know theyre in the lab and people know about all the experiments and any second now, someones gonna come banging that door down to save us. nancy, jonathan, steve, robin max, lucas, dustin, kali-

and the second mike says her name he knows he screwed up

brenner decides in that moment that all he can do is round up everyone involved and get rid of them. conveniently, the string of murders occurring will serve as a good cover for what happened to them

and this is the part where joyce, murray, and hopper get back to hawkins

this is also the part where nancy and robin and the gang get back to hawkins

so nancy and robin immediately go to the video store armed with all the new information they learned from victor creel

..... and are met with jonathan, argyle, kali, and steve in pandemonium

they close the store for the day, and get ready to storm the lab

they realize that they need something from the school, so they head there to pick it up

and soon after arriving, theyre met with the all to familiar hawkins lab vans

they make a hasty escape, taking out some of the goons but they need to find a way to get the rest off their trail

they head for the woods, hoping to hide out in the cabin

meanwhile, the russia crew has taken the mostly demolished cabin as their haven to recover from whatever injuries they sustained

theyre all running through the woods, but they realize the people from the lab are closing in on them

and then nancy and jonathan pass a very familiar tree

they use whatever weapon they have on them to break through the bark, and head into the upside down

the lab people keep going into the woods, eventually finding hopper’s cabin

epic showdown between the russia crew and the lab people, joyce, murray and hopper win, they realize the lab is back, immediately head there realizing theyre gonna have to rescue someone

nancy and robin use the info they learned from victor creel to keep the gang alive in the upside down, max, argyle and eddie are freaking out because omg we’re in another dimention, we get some big reveal about the truth about the upside down and the gang makes their way out and head to the lab

and while this is all happening,we get some super emotional monologue between brenner and el (ala-the last 10 minutes of the truman show) and brenner realizes that el isnt going to be the naieve superweapn she used to be, and decides the best thing he can do with el is give her the standard punishment, time in the closet

and being in the closet triggers all sorts of flashbacks and emotions (mbb’s opportunity to show off her acting chops for an emmy)

joyce and hopper bust into the lab like they did in season 1, but this time they dont get caught

they decide to split up to cover more ground, and hopper finds el in the closet

and around the same time joyce finds mike and will and gets them out of there

here comes the REAL emotional performance

hopper sees her, we get a teary eyed “el!” “dad!”, and then hopper gets pulled away from el by lab workers

exactly the same way terry did

we’re watching this happen from el’s perspective, with a heart-wrenching “noooooooooo” from el, accompanied by cuts to every time el has had to be separated from someone she cares about (terry, the s1 ending, billy dying, her leaving kali in s2, saying goodbye to everyone on moving day, her being separated from mike and will when they got to the lab) accompanied by some terribly sad 80s song, then back to the present moment, she reaches her hand out and boom, the guards go flying. her powers are back

except she doesnt have control of them the way she did before, and now shes bringing the whole building down

her and hopper race to the the first floor, and meet joyce and the boys, they get out of the building at the very last second, and the whole thing collapses.

eventually they find the other group, the whole team is now together, they go and take down the big bad from the upside down, joyce almost KILLS lonnie

nancy and robin drop a huge bombshell that has to do with hawkins/the upside down, specifically pertaining to el, which they pieced together after talking to victor creel

we get a massive cliffhanger, season 5 starts like 10 minutes after the ending of season 4

[geekxgoddess85]

Very Bad Things

~PROLOGUE~ How It Began

“Are you sure a-about this Armin?”

“Of course, I’m sure. You trust me, right?”

Eren bit his lip, giving his childhood best friend a worried look. The two were currently on summer break from Trost University, going into their senior year. For Eren, junior year was a nightmare. If he was to be honest with himself, he had been slacking for the past two years so, when junior year came, he had to buckle down and keep his nose in the books in order to be able to pass the necessary courses to complete his credits. For college, staying an extra year on the count of not passing a course or lack of credits was more normal than one would think. But for Eren, he wanted to make sure he graduated the same time his friends did.

It was one week into summer break and Eren still felt the stress from taking his finals. It was the reason Armin was in his bedroom at the moment, making an account on—on behalf of Eren— on an adult live cam site called Strip ‘N Chat. Eren didn’t know how to feel about it. It was one thing to watch porn videos, but to actually interact with a person via webcam was kind of unnerving. Armin mentioned it was a great way to let off steam and when his best friend brought the idea to him, Eren was a bit…perturbed about it all. It was ironic, though. During their entire lives, Armin had been the conservative, stick-in-the-mud prude who used to balk at the very thought of sex, while Eren was the extroverted, loudmouth rebel. Three years into their college career and look at how the tables turned. Eren was still…well…Eren, but he found himself as the prude. The crazy thing was, Armin lost his virginity their freshman year during a frat party to Jean, of all people, while Eren was still a virgin. After his little tryst with Jean (and a couple of times afterwards), Armin began to blossom and open up in all ways, including sexual. He was openly gay and sexually active. And fucking proud of it all too.

The shit was crazy.

“Okay. Done.” Armin smiled and sat back in his chair. “You’re all signed up and I got ya’ logged in. Here’s your username and password.” He grabbed Eren’s sketch pad and began writing the information down. “Username is SlickxJagger and your password is Sk8terB0i30.”

Eren raised his eyes. “Slick…x…Jagger?”

“Yeah, corny, but cool, huh?”

“No!” He argued. “I sound like a washed up 90’s porn star!”

Armin shrugged and blinked his eyes innocently. “It’s a porn site, Eren. Everyone’s username sounds like a washed up 90’s porn star. Now, you’re all set! I loaded up that pic of you at Krista’s pool party.”

Eren sighed. He knew what picture Armin was speaking of. He posted it on his Instagram and had gotten a ton of likes. He didn’t think it was anything special. It was just him, with his red and white swim trunks on, holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, exposing his abs and various fake tattoos. He had grown his hair out—almost to his shoulders—and was a damp mess of a bird’s nest. Because of that and his long bangs, his face was pretty much hidden, though the sun light had shone just right on his sea green eyes, which caused them to sparkle and almost glow. “What do I do now?” He blinked owlishly.

Sitting forward, Armin clapped his hands onto the top of his knees. “Fill in your profile and filter out what you’re looking for. Then you can pick which Cam Model you like and subscribe to them. Every time they go live or post a pic or video, you’ll get a notification. Remember, some of that shit, they charge you tokens. It’s usually the more risqué stuff. The amount is based on their own discretion. And if you want one-on-one’s, you definitely have to pay out the ass with tokens.”

Biting his lip, Eren looked at his profile. He filled in the basic information about his age, height,  and build, and his likes and dislikes. He answered everything to the best of his ability and honestly. The only thing he lied about was his name. Instead of his real name, he decided to use ‘Jagger’ as being his first name. He didn’t provide a last name. His preferences came next. He started clicking the various boxes. “Um….okay, I like brunettes. Height doesn’t really matter to me. A muscular body would be nice. Don’t care about ethnicity…..” He continued to click away, with Armin helping him on certain things. “Is that all? Did I miss anything?”

“Yes, you sure did,” Armin replied, with a devilish grin. “And I know exactly which to pick out of Twink or Daddy. Click on Daddy.”

Eren winced. “Ew!”

Rolling his eyes, Armin sighed. “Not that kind of Daddy, Eren. Duh! Daddy kink.” He watched his buddy blink cluelessly at him. “I can’t believe you don’t know what that is. Even I know, dude. It’s when a younger male twink is enticed by an older male ‘Zaddy’. That’s the gist of it. If ya’ wanna know more, google it!” Standing, Armin slapped his hands down on Eren’s shoulders, before wrapping his arms around Eren’s neck, hugging him from behind. “I gotta go. Mikasa asked me to fill in for her at the Café. Did you talk to Annie about your schedule?”

Eren raised his own arms up and behind him, awkwardly wrapping them around Armin’s waist…or trying to as much as he could while sitting in his red and black gamer chair. “Yeah. I have the same schedule as you now so that I can catch a ride with you.”

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Armin kissed the top of Eren’s head, before taking his leave.

Eren gave his buddy a lazy wave goodbye with a lopsided grin. When his bedroom door closed, his smile died down and was followed by a heavy sigh. He still didn’t know about this whole cam thing. But he was always up to trying new things. And if Armin liked it, then maybe it couldn’t be that bad.

Over the next hour, he had gone through dozens of pages of so-called Daddies. That process was a little more frustrating that what it should have been. Eren was picky when it came to who and what he found attractive. Not that it was a thing with him anyway, but he didn’t pick based on looks. He couldn’t because all models were required to wear masks for anonymity sake. He thought that was kind of neat. It gave the models a sexy, mysterious look to them. He had to go off based on their profiles and preferences. He had to weed out a lot of douche-bags but narrowed it down to two: The Captain and Dr. Pain. He was kind of skeptical about Dr. Pain. He looked to be into BDSM and while Eren didn’t have anything against it, he had never done anything like that. But Dr. Pain was 6”2, with impeccable styled blonde hair and chiseled features from what he could tell through the mask. They had a few of the same likes and dislikes. Overall, the guy sounded pretty normal, despite liking ‘a little pain with his sex’ (his own words). The Captain…well…there was something about him. He was a shorty, standing only at 5”3. Eren was a full five inches taller than he was. Not that it mattered. He didn’t think their was a height requirement to being a Daddy, but when he googled it, the norm was the Daddy was always taller and bigger than the Twink. They shared a lot of the same likes and dislikes, but what struck a chord in Eren’s heart was The Captain’s eyes. Even through his white, red, and black mask, Eren could see a pair of piercing blue-gray eyes. Almost a light cobalt. They pulled him in as if he were in a whirlpool, being sucked into the abyss.

‘What the hell?’

Blinking back into reality, Eren shook his head and walked to the kitchen. His stomach was roaring at him angrily to feed it. “Mikasa, are you hungry?” He called out to silence. Armin was gone to work, and it seemed like Mikasa had left to go some place too. So, he was alone.

Sighing, he kicked his door closed with his toes and plopped down on his bed. A sandwich and soda sounded real good right now and that’s exactly what he was chowing down.

It was a couple of minutes before ten when a notification sounded out. He thought it was his phone, but when he checked it, he saw that it wasn’t, he furrowed his brows. “Hm—oh! My laptop!” Scrambling off the bed, Eren rushed to the laptop and pressed on the ‘enter’ key to wake his system up. Checking his email, he saw one new message and blinked slowly. “It’s from Strip N Chat.” Biting his lip, he cautiously opened up the notif; reading every single letter that made up all the words.

“The Captain is now online.”

Swallowing hard, he clicked the link that took him straight to The Captain’s page. It was a simple page. There was a large blank box in the middle of the screen that said ‘The Captain’s Quarters’. The chat was at the bottom. There his stans already there talking to each other, waiting for The Captain to show.

And when he made his entrance, it was pandemonium.

“Hello Darlings, it’s your Captain speaking. Did you miss me?" Leaning forward, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers, he winked on cobalt blue eye. "Have I got a story for my horny little Ship Mates tonight.”

Eren watched a grin spread across his face, which he couldn’t see much of it. Like all the models on the site, The Captain wore some kind of masquerade looking mask that covered majority of his face. Only his eyes, hair, and his lips and chin were seen, as far as his face goes. His body…well that was another story.

“Wow….” Eren whispered, mesmerized by the guy’s body. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were toned. And as bright as day, he sported a winged tattoo on his chest, with what looked to be a matching one on his left hip. “That’s so hot,” he whispered. Eren had a thing for tattoos. He wanted some of his own but was too afraid of needles to get any. But fucking A if this guy didn’t look hot wearing his.

“…but first, looks like we got some virgins in the house.” He smirked; a pink tongue coming out to wet his bottom and top lips. “Come on.” His voice deepened, dropping one octave. “I don’t bite.....unless you beg me for it.”

Those very words and the way he said them sent a shiver down his spine and an electric shock to his dick.

“Crew, say hello to our newest Shipmates RainMan95, PoisonedL0v3r, and…SlickxJagger. Mmmm….hey Slick….just how slick is that tight, little hole of yours?”

“Fuck. Me.” Eren’s eyes went blind. He was caught. Hook, line, and sinker or whatever the fuck it was called. The guy had him. Him and his aching dick that was standing on end, making a tent in his sweatpants.

“Speaking of holes mmmm, wait until you hear this one. It about a cute, little Twink with a bubble butt that I ate. All. Fucking. Night. Long. When I was done with him he had a…Slick…hole too, Jagger.” Captain grinned widely. “Wanna hear the story, Crew?” He lowered his voice and his tone. Sitting back in his chair, he reached into his pants and pulled out his enormous, leaking cock and began to stroke it lazily.  “Get out your dicks, my lovely little perverts. Come stroke with me down memory lane.”

‘Oh no…’

Eren was fucking hooked.

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 10

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

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This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT MORNING

OWANJILA DAM, WEST ELIZABETH

Gazing out at the enormous lake, Dutch sat alone on the edge of the dam as he lost himself in the marvelous view laid out before him, letting his mind wander freely with the sounds of water trickling and birds chirping.

The mountains on the horizon formed a majestic, jagged border that separated the lake from the sky, and for as far as the naked eye could see, Dutch found nothing but a colony of lush trees dominating the landscape as the water beneath mirrored their reflection.

There were animals of all sorts gallivanting through the wilderness and disturbing the overall peace of the foliage, scuttering away from the people that traveled the roads.

The environment sang vigorously with life around Dutch, and yet, despite the serene state of the world surrounding him, the man himself could not have felt more hopeless on the inside.

Arthur... was gone.

He was actually gone.

After thirty years of riding together side-by-side and raising that man as a son, Arthur had finally turned his back on the gang. And now, Dutch was all alone.

Just like in the beginning.

Reaching into his coat, Dutch fumbled through his pockets for a bit before pulling out Arthur’s journal and delicately opening it, curious to skim through its mysterious contents.

Ever since Arthur was just a boy, he always found solace between the pages of a blank book, but never allowed anyone else to see his drawings. They were the “sacred texts,” so to speak.

Anytime someone tried to catch even a glimpse of his sketches, Arthur would always snatch the thing away and hide it somewhere safe from prying eyes. It was one of the few things he valued more than money, and as the years went by, everyone eventually learned to just leave it be.

That was, until now.

The clumsy man dropped the damned thing when he made a run for it back in Tall Trees. The flap on his satchel came loose sometime during the fight, and within a moment’s notice, it just... slipped out. Of course, there was no time to return the journal to its rightful owner, but Dutch didn’t have the heart to leave it lying in the mud either.

So, with a heavy heart, he decided to take the journal back to camp and keep it as a memento of what their family once was. Strangely enough though, instead of the comfort Dutch expected the item to bring, it offered nothing but a sense of loneliness.

Every time he flipped through its worn pages, he’d only be reminded of everything he’d lost over the years, and the son he loved dearly who abandoned him just like the rest of the gang.

It made Dutch’s blood boil to think about Arthur’s betrayal. He sacrificed life and limb to keep that boy safe, and within the span of a few weeks, the man had turned traitor and run off with a kid he hardly even knew.

Meanwhile, his family of thirty years got left behind in the dust during their time of need, and remained forgotten alongside their distant memories.

Dutch may have been old, and he may have been living on borrowed time, but before all this was over, he swore to himself that he would get closure.

Their gang had a code these days, and no one went against it without paying the price.

Not even Arthur.

“Boss?” Someone said, tearing Dutch from his thoughts. The man looked over his shoulder.

“Micah,” he said with relief, “you’re back. Got any news for me? How’d things go in Strawberry?”

Micah stood next to Dutch, taking in the view alongside him. “About as good as you’d expect, all things considered. We managed to replace most of our supplies with the stuff from the general store. It ain’t as fancy as what we had before, but it’ll keep us afloat for now.”

The older man nodded in approval, closing the journal. “Then it’s good enough. Listen, I sent Joe out scoutin’ earlier. He thinks we can set up a camp somewhere near here. It ain’t that far away from civilization, but we’ll have a reliable source of food and water. It’ll give us some time to gather our senses before we move on with the plan.”

Micah seemed to have no qualms. “Fine by me, boss. Whatever you think is right.”

Taking their minds off the gang’s current state for the moment, the two of them fell into a solemn silence as Micah closely observed Dutch’s expressions, clearly able to see that the man was far from happy.

“Dutch,” he said, trying to get the man’s attention. “I gotta ask you something.”

The other man brought his gaze back to the lake, letting out a series of coughs. “Yeah?”

“...What’re we gonna do about Arthur?”

Dutch sighed, glaring into the emptiness around him. 

“The only thing we can do. We are gonna find that man, and we are gonna show him what it means to betray our gang. Freedom always comes at a price, and he’s gonna learn that. But it ain’t gonna be easy. You know Arthur. He’s as strong as he is smart, no matter how much he tries to deny it.”

The other man chuckled. “While that may be true, how well do you think he can fare against an entire gang? Even with that little shit helpin’ him out, I doubt he’ll stand much of a chance.”

Dutch shrugged. “I don’t know. The only thing that’s for certain, is we’d be fools to underestimate him. Arthur’s always been a force to be reckoned with, and if we ain’t careful, he’ll kill us all before any of them Pinkertons do.”

“And what about the boy?” Micah asked. “We plannin’ to kill Isaac, too?”

Dutch nodded. “Of course. He’s the man who started all this. He killed Cleet, he killed Shay, and I assume he’s responsible for sicking the Pinkertons on us back at the bank, too. We’ll do our damndest to survive this year, but I sure as hell plan on takin’ Isaac down with us if we don’t.”

Standing up from his seat, Dutch sauntered past Micah and quickly lit a cigar, preparing to take his leave.

“But first... let’s just focus on gettin’ this camp set up. We’ll be no use to anyone if we’re starving and exhausted. Let’s get some rest, and then we’ll talk about our next step.”

Micah removed himself from the dam, following Dutch’s actions. “Whatever you say, boss.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

UPPER MONTANA RIVER

Wetting a small rag with some gun oil, Arthur gently cleaned his revolver as he relaxed in a rocking chair, keeping himself warm by the fireplace while Isaac slept on a nearby couch.

It was still pretty early in the morning -- roughly only an hour or two after dawn -- and Arthur had just woken up from a night of some much needed rest.

So far, no one had come wandering near their cabin aside from a few deer and a handful of coyotes, but overall, things were relatively calm in the region. And Arthur didn’t trust it one bit.

He never liked staying in the same place for too long. With the amount of people tracking him down these days, it was always one hell of a risk to remain in one location for more than a day.

Arthur couldn’t count the amount of times he’d been greeted by the barrel of a gun upon waking up in his tent, or ambushed by bounty hunters when he tried to cook a meal. And even though he knew Isaac was in serious need of some sleep, he couldn’t help but feel things were a little too peaceful, considering the circumstances.

Where was Dutch? Or the Pinkertons? Arthur supposed the Van der Linde gang would require some time to regroup as well, but the fact that he hadn’t seen any sign of the law out here made him suspicious.

It didn’t take him much effort to follow Isaac’s tracks to this cabin, so he found it difficult to believe that the Pinkertons didn’t know where they were either. They had a small army of men backing them up, so it was far more plausible that they had already discovered Arthur’s location, but were simply waiting for the right moment to strike.

He’d have to keep an extra close eye out today. 

Placing the rag down, Arthur slipped the revolver back into his holster and reached for his hunting knife, wanting to sharpen it a bit before heading back out.

His hope for today was that he and Isaac would be able to catch some food in the wilderness once they got everything settled, but judging by how close the Pinkertons were to them, Arthur assumed they wouldn’t be the only ones hunting in the woods.

It just made him wonder when all this pandemonium would finally come to an end. Would he, by some miracle, actually manage to escape the world of outlaws and keep Isaac safe? Or would it all come crumbling down just like the gang, and throw them to the wolves?

He supposed only time would tell.

Dragging the stone down the edge of his blade, Arthur paused mid-action when he heard Isaac let out a sudden gasp, causing him to jolt his head in the boy’s direction.

It looked like the young man was still asleep, but at the moment, he was twisting restlessly on the couch and breathing in a panicked rhythm, moving his legs in a way that almost felt like he was trying to run away from something.

“Isaac?” Arthur said, attempting to wake the man, but to no avail. He put his knife down and walked over to the couch, kneeling beside the boy.

“Isaac.” He repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

The young man shook his head in fear, still trapped in his dreams.

“...No...” he muttered softly. “...S-Stop...!”

Arthur gripped Isaac’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake. “Isaac, wake up.”

Feeling the touch of Arthur’s hand, the boy suddenly sprung into consciousness and snapped his eyes open, frantically observing the room as his mind tried to calm itself from its alarmed state.

“What...?” Isaac exclaimed in a breathy voice, bringing himself into a sitting position. His gaze landed on Arthur. “...D-Dad?”

Arthur patted his shoulder in a comforting manner, giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re alright, kiddo. You was just havin’ a bad dream. Ain’t nothing wrong.”

Isaac sighed out of relief at the news and slouched in his seat, taking a moment to relax as Arthur eyed him worriedly.

“You okay?” The older man checked.

“Yeah...” Isaac replied, sliding a hand down his face. “I’m fine. I just... thought the dreams would stop by now.”

“These dreams happen often?”

“Almost every night.”

Arthur was quiet for a second, hesitant to ask his next question. “...Was it about Eliza?”

Isaac nodded, his eyes drooping with fatigue. “They always are. Though, it was different this time.”

“Different how?”

The boy waved a dismissive hand. “Ah... I don’t wanna bore you with the details. It ain’t that interesting, believe me.”

Arthur leaned in closer, grinning. “Try me.”

The young man flipped through his memories, trying to recall the events from his dreams.

“Well... usually, it’ll start off in my room back at mom’s cabin. I’m always a little kid in these nightmares, so everything’s taller than me. I’ll be playin’ with some of my toys, mindin’ my own business... when suddenly, I’ll hear a lotta commotion coming from downstairs. Like someone’s breakin’ into the house. I can tell something’s wrong, so I’ll hide under my bed. Meanwhile, there’ll be these men shouting at each other. They clearly ain’t friendly, so I won’t move from my hiding spot.”

“After a while, though,” Isaac carried on, “I’ll hear a gunshot. Followed by mom’s screaming. After that, I’ll hear a second gunshot, and the screamin’ stops. I’ll run downstairs and slam the door open, and mom’ll just be lyin’ there on the floor. Dead. Staring at me.”

Arthur admittedly found himself horrified by the details that Isaac described from memory, but brushed over it nonetheless.

“...And this time?”

Isaac’s expression fell flat. “This time... Shay was there, too. Normally, it’s just mom’s body that I find, but in this dream, Shay’s corpse was next to her. Staring at me just the same.”

The older man sighed morosely and rubbed his chin, thinking about everything the boy said.

“Sounds to me like you’re feelin’ guilty about killing him.”

Isaac shrugged. “Guilty? I dunno if I’d call it that, but... I sure as hell ain’t as content as I thought I’d be. It’s all just... so confusing.”

The young man gazed at Arthur inquisitively, curious about his experiences.

“Do you ever have dreams like that, Dad? Do you see the people you kill?”

Arthur nodded, somewhat ashamed to open up about his misdeeds in the past.

“Sometimes. It’s inevitable, after all. Takin’ a life ain’t easy, and it don’t come without a cost. When you kill someone, you’re also killin’ a part of yourself. If you’re still feelin’ conflicted about Shay’s death, then perhaps that means you haven’t lost yourself completely.”

Isaac glanced downwards, trying to make sense of his thoughts. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He brought his focus back to Arthur, abruptly switching the topic.

“Anyway, I didn’t mean to ramble on about that for so long. We got things to do, and I imagine it’d be best if we got outta here as soon as possible. Any ideas on where we should start?”

Arthur rose to his feet, gesturing outside. “Well, since we got clear weather today, I figured we could go hunting for some food. Maybe stop by the river and catch a few fish, too.”

Isaac smiled in an impressed manner. “You a good fisherman?”

The other man scoffed. “Heh, not even close. But I get by. Well enough to survive, at least.”

“That’s good,” the boy remarked, “because I’d wager I’m even worse. Guess I know who I get it from now.”

Arthur laughed at that. “Who knows, if our luck holds up, maybe we’ll manage to catch some seaweed. Now, c’mon. We should get outta here.”

Isaac’s eyes widened in remembrance. “Oh, wait, before we leave, there is somethin’ else we should do first.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

The boy stood up from the couch, stretching his arms. “You know that money I stole from your gang? Well, it was quite a good sum. Enough to keep us goin’ for a while. Problem is, I don’t have it with me. But I do know where it’s hidden... and it won’t be easy to reach.”

Arthur didn’t like where this was going. “Where’d you hide it?”

“Just outside Blackwater. It’s in the trunk of this big ol’ tree. I stuffed it in there ‘cause I assumed Dutch’s boys wouldn’t go anywhere near that town once they was done robbing the bank.”

Arthur let out a worried breath. “Well, you were correct. You think it’s worth the risk? How much money did you steal from us?”

Isaac whipped up a rough estimation. “Around two thousand.”

“Two thousand?” The older man repeated. “Jesus Christ. I didn’t realize Dutch had saved that much. He always made it sound like the gang was damn-near destitute. We could certainly use that money, but there’s a whole lotta Pinkertons swarmin’ that area.”

“I know, but it ain’t like we got any other options. Any good ones, that is.”

Isaac studied the look on his father’s face, interested to hear his advice on the matter.

“...So? What’re you thinking?”

Arthur contemplated their choices, clearly reluctant to head back to Blackwater. The town’s population had practically been entirely replaced by Pinkertons, after all, and with the Van der Lindes’ recent robbery at the bank, he imagined the law had only gotten tighter around there.

If he and Isaac were going to retrieve that money, they wouldn’t be able to let anyone see them. Not a single soul. They’d have to go in, and out. No questions asked, no traces left behind.

“Alright.” Arthur finally decided. “We’ll go. I’ll follow you for now, since you know where it’s hidden, but stay close to me, alright? And do as I say. I ain’t takin’ any chances around these Pinkertons.”

Isaac nodded firmly. “Sounds good. But... you can’t really follow me if you don’t have a horse of your own. I assume you left it at Tall Trees?”

“Yeah. Poor girl’s probably lost somewhere in that forest by now.”

The boy offered a suggestion. “Well, tell you what -- when we get the money back, I’ll go into Blackwater and buy you a new horse from the stables. I don’t have any wanted posters pinned up in that town, so it should be safe for me to roam around.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied. “We can’t always ride on the same horse. Besides, I think Aldo will appreciate not havin’ to carry double the weight.”

Arthur chuckled. “Fair point. Alright, then. We go to Blackwater, we get the money, you buy a new horse, and then we disappear from this goddamn state. Got it?”

“Got it.”

The older man gathered their things and headed for the door, holding tightly onto his guns.

“Then let’s get going.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE BLACKWATER

Trotting through the empty fields that surrounded Blackwater, Isaac scanned the landscape for a particularly large tree while Arthur kept a lookout for any Pinkertons, both of them on high alert.

There were a few scattered patrols traveling along the roads in the distance, but it didn’t look like any of them had noticed Arthur’s presence so far. They were mainly concerned with the city’s entrances more than anything, and appeared to be observing all the people who came into town.

If Isaac was going to head down to stables later, he’d have to avoid the law completely. He may not have had any posters hanging around the city, but Arthur still didn’t like the idea of him wandering too close to those vultures.

He had seen for himself just how untrustworthy they could be, and even though Isaac gave them that tip about the robbery, Arthur had no doubts that Ross would turn on Isaac in the blink of an eye if it meant he could get his next paycheck.

That man was even more a snake than Milton ever was, and Arthur had a feeling he would end up being far more trouble than he was worth.

That was usually how it went with these types of folk.

“There it is!” Isaac pointed out, gesturing to a tree not too far from them. “The money’s in the trunk.”

“Alright then,” Arthur replied, coughing into his elbow. “You go on and fetch it. I’ll keep an eye out.”

Hopping off of Aldo, Isaac swiftly made his way over to the tree and climbed on top of a boulder, allowing him to reach the hole in the trunk where the money had been hidden.

“Looks like it’s all still here.” He announced, counting the bills in his hand.

“Good. You think it’ll be enough to buy a new mount?”

“Should be.” Isaac stuffed a chunk of the money in his pocket, giving the rest to Arthur. “Here, take this. I won’t need all of it at the stables. Now... you got any preference? Any specific breed or color you want?”

The older man wasn’t too picky.

“Anything fast and strong’ll do me just fine,” he settled, getting off of Aldo. “Just... make sure it ain’t an Arabian.”

Isaac raised a brow. “You sure? Arabians are some of the best horses out there.”

“Yeah, and they’re also some of the tiniest. Do I look like I could fit on one of them?”

The boy chuckled at the image. “Fair enough. Okay then. I’ll go to the stables and find you a ‘not an Arabian.’ Wait here with Aldo. I’ll be back soon.”

Strolling off into the distance, Isaac covertly made his way into Blackwater as the Pinkertons circled the town around him, oblivious to his presence there.

Meanwhile, Arthur stood next to the tree and leaned against its trunk as Aldo casually munched on a clump of grass, patiently waiting for his owner to return.

Arthur had to admit -- despite practically having the entire world against him at the moment, he felt much more at peace now that he was with Isaac.

He still felt somewhat guilty for leaving Dutch behind after promising so much to him, but now that he was free from the old man’s iron fist, Arthur couldn’t deny that things were much better. Much calmer.

It was like he could finally breathe. He no longer had to worry about his every move, or setting Dutch off by saying the wrong thing. Right now, it was just him and his son, traveling alone in the American wilderness. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Don’t worry, boy,” Arthur said to Aldo, soothing the horse after it let out a nervous whinny. “Isaac’ll be back soon, and then you’ll have a new partner.”

“So will you, it seems.”

Whirling around at the sudden voice, Arthur went straight for his revolver and nearly yanked the thing out, only to freeze mid-action when he realized he had been cornered by Agent Ross himself.

The man was once again accompanied by his friend Agent Fordham, and had a hefty-looking shotgun resting on his shoulder. Judging by their calm temperament, Arthur assumed the two of them had been expecting to catch him alone today, and it only made him wonder just how long these snakes had been following him.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Arthur asked, his voice low and wary.

Edgar’s expression twisted with annoyance. “Cleaning up Dutch’s mess, obviously. You boys certainly caused quite the commotion at Blackwater’s bank, blowing it up with dynamite and whatnot. Robberies like that don’t just undo themselves, you know. It’s the civilized folk -- folk like me -- who have to sweep away the damage you savages cause. But I must admit... I’m surprised to see you’re not with Dutch any longer. I assume Mr. Van der Linde finally snapped?”

Arthur sighed in frustration. “The man snapped ages ago. Your people just sped up the process.”

“My people,” Edgar emphasized, “are simply doing what we must to survive. We wouldn’t have to constantly make use of the gallows if your people only followed the rules of our society. Society isn’t just run by one man, Mr. Morgan. It’s run by the politicians, the police officers, the responsible citizens of America -- by order. It’s what makes us... different from you.”

The outlaw scoffed, uninterested in the Pinkerton’s rhetoric.

“Whatever you say, agent. All I know is what I’ve seen. And from what I’ve seen, you lot is just as rotten as we are. Now, tell me what you’re doin’ here so we can get this over with.”

Edgar snickered in amusement. “Ooh, tough guy, aren’t you? Very well, then. Allow me to get straight to the point. I’m here to offer you a deal, Mr. Morgan.”

“A deal?” Arthur repeated in bewilderment. “I don’t deal with Pinkertons.”

“Just... hear me out.” The agent persisted, restraining his irritation. “Obviously, you care quite a big deal about that boy you’re traveling with. And before you ask, yes, we know all about Isaac. In fact, his file’s sitting on my desk right next to yours. He’s a tragic tale, really. Mother murdered at age six, father a well-known criminal. He’s a smart young man. It’s a shame he had to end up with the likes of you.”

“Which is why...” Edgar continued, “Agent Fordham and I have agreed to extend a hand of mercy here. Your son is still very young, Mr. Morgan. If he plays his cards right, he could make something of his life. So, here’s my offer. Turn yourself in, and we’ll leave Isaac alone. I can’t guarantee the law will show any leniency with you, but we’ll make sure the boy doesn’t swing.”

Arthur almost laughed at the incredibly dubious deal.

“You really expect me to believe you?”

“I expect you to be smart. Though, I don’t expect Isaac will be happy even if you accept. So sit down with him. Talk to him about my deal. Convince him not to come after you once we’ve taken you away, and let him live a civilized life. You’re his father, after all. Isn’t his happiness your main priority?”

Arthur glowered at Ross. “...My main priority is to keep him safe. I may not be the most intelligent man out there, Mr. Ross, but I ain’t a fool neither. For all I know, this is could just be some plan to separate me and the boy. That way, you can attack Isaac when he’s all alone, and I’m not there to protect him. Well, forget it.”

The Pinkerton didn’t seem fazed by the response. “Well, fortunately for you, I’m giving you three days to think about it. Decisions like this aren’t made overnight, I understand. But for your sake, and the boy’s, I hope you’ll come to your senses. All I ask... is that you consider it.”

The outlaw gave him a cautious look. “...And if I don’t accept?”

“Then we’ll just have to kill you both.” Edgar answered simply. “So I’d suggest that you sharpen up and realize... your life is already over, Mr Morgan. Now, it’s just a matter of how it ends. So choose wisely.”

Tugging on his horse’s reins, Edgar turned around and steadily began making his way back to Blackwater, beckoning Fordham to follow him.

“If you change your mind,” he called out, “come find me at my office in Blackwater. I’ve ordered my men to stand down for the next three days. Don’t make me regret it.”

Breaking into a sprint, the two Pinkertons galloped away from the scene and disappeared over the horizon, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts as he waited for Isaac to come back.

The outlaw wasn’t sure what to make of all this. Was it possible that Edgar was being sincere for once? That man may have been a conniving bastard with a deceitful tongue, but Arthur knew Fordham to be more of an upstanding citizen. Perhaps this was his doing, and the deal was genuine.

If that was the case, then Arthur’s answer was pretty clear. The last thing he wanted was for any harm to come to Isaac, so if turning himself in was the only way to prevent it, then he would do it in a heartbeat.

On the flip side however... if this turned out to be just another one of Edgar’s traps, he couldn’t leave Isaac to deal with them alone.

The boy was skilled, that was for certain. But even he couldn’t fight them all on his own.

Arthur supposed he’d just have to sit the boy down and talk with him about it. He had a feeling he already knew what Isaac was going to say, but it was his safety that mattered here. Not Arthur’s.

He already lost the boy once thanks to Shay and his men all those years ago, and he definitely didn’t plan on letting it happen again. Not when so much was at stake.

“Dad?” Isaac called, returning to the tree with a new horse in his possession. “I’m back. I got you a nice Andalusian. They had a Shire horse sittin’ in there, but I thought he was too bulky. Figured you might like somethin’ with a bit more flexibility.”

When Arthur didn’t respond, the boy walked up to him and gazed at him worryingly, noticing his uneasy demeanor.

“...Dad?” He said again. “You okay?”

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts, still unnerved by his encounter with the Pinkertons. “Y-Yeah. Thank you, son. C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

“You sure?” Isaac checked. “You seem kinda... nervous.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Arthur replied, sounding a bit more stern than he intended. “Now come on. We need to leave.”

The boy clearly wasn’t convinced, but decided to drop it nonetheless. “...Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

Mounting up, Arthur and Isaac quickly hopped onto their horses before removing themselves from the area, eager to get the hell out of West Elizabeth with the money. Lord knew this state had already caused them more than a lifetime’s worth of problems, but with Edgar’s deal now sitting in the back of Arthur’s mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if leaving the state was the best course of action right now.

They only had three days to decide, after all. If they wandered too far from Blackwater, they wouldn’t be able to make it back if Arthur chose to accept his deal. Perhaps they could’ve lingered around Strawberry for a little while, but of course, there was the risk of running into Dutch if they did that.

Arthur just didn’t know what to do anymore. He thought sticking with Isaac would provide him a sense of clarity, but instead, all he found so far was a new list of issues to tackle.

There seemed to be conflict no matter where he went, and with his future now hanging by a thread, Arthur questioned if Isaac would be better off without him.

The only thing he knew for certain was that, unlike before, he now had a family worth fighting for. He had no idea where this road was going to take them, or if they’d even reach the end, but protecting Isaac was the only thing he cared about now.

And he’d be damned if he let those Pinkertons get their hands on him.

[achtung-attitude]

“Shizuka!!” Kilo shouts, reaching for her as she is swept away by the tide of convention-goers. 

She calls back, but her voice is drowned out by the chatter and shrieks of the crowd, mostly teenage girls and young women. 

“Can’t believe--! Finally--!! … gonna see Paulie Paul--!!” This and other similar snippets of adoration can be heard in the pandemonium of the torrent of fans. 

Kilo growls, and begins shoving girls out of the way, intending to force his way through to get to his friend. When he is nearly knocked over, his hand balls into a fist, but Moya holds him back. “Knock it off, idiot!” she shouts, holding fast to his wrist.

He pulls his arm free, but by the time he does so, Shizuka has already been carried off by the crowd. “Fuck it! We lost her!”

“Would you relax? They’re only going to the next exhibit hall over. We just have to follow the crowd, and catch up with her there-”

“You was the one that said we need to stick together, no matter what!”

“Yes, but panicking isn’t going to--!”

They are startled by the sound of a sneeze. Kilo and Moya turn to see a young woman covering her face with her hand, after having sneezed hard enough to shake the headphones off her head. When she pulls her hand away, peering through squinted eyes, she sneezes again, and again. On the third sneeze, fluid explodes out of her face, more spit, tears and mucus then one would think humanly possible. Then, someone else starts sneezing too, in the same way. Then another person, then another. Then, the coughing starts. 

Within a few seconds, roughly half of the convention floor comes under sickness. Some cough their lungs out, others become too nauseous to stand,  or raise their heads. The worst are those who lie down and froth at the mouth, overtaken by fits. Only a handful, including Kilo and Moya, remain standing amongst the ill around them, completely unaffected.

“No…! They wouldn’t…!” Moya whispers, staring in disbelief.

“What is it?! What’s happening!!?,” Kilo shouts at her. 

Grimacing, she replies, “... I miscalculated! I thought if we stayed within a crowd this big, we’d be safe! I never thought they’d go this far to eliminate us! Dust, and the Congregation… Damn it! They’re willing to kill all of these people just to kill the three of us!!”

“It don’t have to be like that…” says a lazy voice. They turn to see Toto approaching them, weaving between and stepping over fall bodies. His Stand hovers at his side: a hideous skeletal creature, putrid red flesh peaking out between filthy bandages, its mouth hanging open in a silent shriek. “I can make this stop any time I wanna… all y’all gotta do--”

Before he can finish his sentence, WITCH MOUNTAIN is upon him, its fists raised. It cries “POP POP POP--!!”, preparing to unleash a hail of punches. Before they can land, Toto’s Stand shudders into action. Its arms are thin and diseased-looking, but they move blindingly fast, catching one of WITCH MOUNTAIN’s fist in one hand and reaching forward with the other, gripping the Stand by its throat. Moya chokes, feeling the phantom fingers squeeze.

SATURN BARZ appears, aiming a swipe at Toto’s Stand, but with the same blinding speed, it breaks away from grappling WITCH MOUNTAIN and Toto puts distance between them. Moya breathes again, and Kilo steps in front of her protectively.

“Damn rude!” Toto exclaims, “Let a guy finish his sentences, come on! I was gon’ say I’d let everybody go if y’all would just drop dead! That don’t seem unreasonable to me!”

“Fuck you, pendejo,” Moya spits back, “We’re not going to play games with you.”

“Moya,” Kilo says, “Who is this guy?”

“His name… is Toto. He’s one of Dust’s main lieutenants! So it was a trap… He’s probably the one who… sent the message to us…! All just to get us here…!”

“Hit the nail on the head wit’ that one, Moya. Haha…” the enemy chimes in. 

“Fine,” Kilo snarls, “Then I’ll just kill this guy quick and find Shizuka. We don’t got any time to lose…”

“Speakin’ of time,” Toto remarks, apparently taking no notice of Kilo’s threat, “Sure is takin’ a while for it to work… Oh, wait, there it is…!” he grins, satisfied.

Moya slumps to the ground behind Kilo, and when he turns, he sees at last how a heavy cold sweat has formed on her reddening face. “Moya!” he cries, crouching and checking her. She is shivering, and when he puts his hand to her forehead, he finds it to be burning up. “A fever…?! Why…?!”

“Kilo!” the enemy Stand user calls, and Kilo glares at him. “Listen to me for a second, kay? I said before that y’all had to drop dead, but that ain’t actually necessary. I ain’t like Phantasma or Tarantula, ya dig? This is gang business, and you don’t otta be part of that no more. Just get up and go. Walk out. I won't chase ya or nothin' like that. Nobody will. Sounds good, right?”

“… What about Shizuka?”

“Ohh… I had to get you and her separated so she could find her way over to the boss… That part was non-negotiable, I’m afraid. I don’t quite know what he got planned for her, but, well… I can’t promise nothing.”

A second passes, and SATURN BARZ appears. With a rhythmic stomp and an “URAAH!!”, it produces a wave of searing steam and directs it at Toto.

“Oh shit!!” he says, raising his arm to shield his face from the hot air. 

The heat causes his eyes to water, effectively blinding him. In this moment, Kilo appears above him, lunging into the smokescreen, SATRUN BARZ at his side with talons raised. “Like Hell I’d abandon her! So I got a better idea!” he shouts, “YOU DROP DEAD INSTEAD!!!”

“Whoa…!” Toto responds, in the exact same tone of voice as before, before ducking. SATURN BARZ just barely misses his cheek, and it follows up with another swipe that Toto dodges. Stepping back to avoid the attack, he inadvertently trips backwards over a fallen convention guest and lands on his back, allowing SATURN BARZ to descend on him from above.

Toto’s Stand emerges, and twists its body unnaturally, swiveling its entire misshapen rib cage to reach for SATURN BARZ. Kilo is ready for this, and his Stand whirls out of the way. Fingers straight, it aims a piercing strike at the center of the enemy’s back.

This misses too, however, and Kilo’s heart skips a beat when the ground suddenly gives way beneath him. He looks down to see the simple carpeted floor transform into hard, uncovered concrete. This itself opens into a pit, right below his feet. He hands suspended in the air for a moment, then drops, hitting the ground and knocking all of the wind from his body. Groaning in pain, he peers at the darkness of the pit, which is now adorned with tarps and wooden planks strewn around, like a construction site.

“I gave you a chance,” Toto says. As ever, his tone remains lazy, completely detached from any emotion.  He stands without using his hands, rising to his feet like Nosferatu. “I gave you your one chance to walk away. That’s all you get, dig? One chance to walk away before fate’s path locks in…” He saunters over to the edge of the pit and squats downs, peering at Kilo lying on his back at the bottom. “I tried to warn you… My WEEZER is the stuff of nightmares…!”

END of CHAPTER 36