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millers-girl · 3 months ago

Text

where it hurts

chapter 4 of willow & whiskey

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: an injury, an apology, and a lesson in survival bring you and Joel closer – and reminds you what's at stake.

warnings/tags: age gap, adult language, blood and violence, death

word count: 6.5k

series masterlist

Somewhere in western Pennsylvania, Joel stopped the truck at a gas station. You were running out of gas, meaning he’d have to get lucky and siphon fuel from other cars – if there were any who still had some left.

As he worked, with Ellie keeping him company, you remained in the passenger seat of the stationary truck, feet up on the dash, head buried in The Two Towers.

Save for Ellie and Joel’s conversation, the world outside was quiet. Only the occasional chirp of a bird or the distant rustling of leaves interrupted your silence.

With the windows down, you heard Ellie ask, "So, how does it work?"

Joel, kneeling on the ground with a tube in hand, answered, "It's a siphon. It's when liquid – travels against gravity – because pressure – umm – "

Ellie was already on the verge of giggling. "You don't know," she accused.

"I know it works."

You smirked behind the book, flipping to the next page nonchalantly as you cleared up, "It creates a vacuum in the tube so liquid draws up from the car and gravity pushes it down into the red container Joel's holding.”

Ellie hummed, nodding along before quickly growing bored with the conversation altogether. She stalked toward the tree line.

"No wandering," you and Joel said at the same time, both your heads snapping to lock eyes with each other. You swallowed, looking away first.

"Okay," Ellie said, leaning against the back door of the car and pulling a book out of her pack. "This is both your faults then." She flipped to a random page. "It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery." She laughed to herself while you got out of the car. "No Pun Intended, Volume Too by Will Livingston. Volume Too. Look. You get it?"

"Jesus," Joel mumbled, shaking his head.

Feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sitting too long, you shut your book and got out of the car, stretching your arms above your head before walking over to Joel.

"Need any help?" You asked, leaning against the car he was siphoning gas from.

You weren’t really sure how to approach your conversations with him anymore. The tension had been uncomfortable between you since Bill’s town. He’d crossed a line and hadn’t apologized––not really––but he had given you that book, the one now resting on the hood of the car, as some sort of peace offering.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. Still, the silence between you both stretched too often, the weight of what was said heavy.

Joel shook his head at your offer, sucking on the end of the tube until gas started pouring out into the red container. His eyes flicked up to yours as he did it, and you bit your lip, fighting the instinct to mutter something inappropriate. Okay, you pick – you want the comment about sucking something while making eye contact with me, or about being on your knees in front of me?

Before, you might've said it, testing the waters, seeing him fluster. Now, you weren’t sure if that door was still open. The space between you felt fragile, like one wrong move would shatter it entirely.

As if sensing the strain, Ellie continued with her jokes until Joel gave her a reaction. "I stayed up all night, wondering where the sun went – “

"No," Joel begged.

Triumphant, Ellie finished anyway. "Then it dawned on me."

You chuckled as Joel turned to Ellie with exasperation. "Feel free to wait in the truck."

"Ugh, okay," Ellie groaned, conceding. "But, just know – you can't escape Will Livingston. He'll be back... there's nothing you can do to stop him."

She climbed into the truck, and you started to follow until Joel’s voice stopped you, surprising both you and him. "What part of the book you on?" he asked, quieter than you expected.

You turned back, brows furrowed. This was how he wanted to break the tension?

"What? It can't be worse than that joke book."

“It’s not,” you confirmed, though your voice still carried a hint of strain. You tried to keep it lighter. “It’s just…”

"Just what?"

You hesitated, then let it go. If he wasn’t ready to talk about things, you wouldn’t push it.

"Why is it so slow?" You huffed, flipping the book in your hands. "No, seriously. I mean, I flew through the first one. Now, it's taking forever to get through Frodo and Sam's journey to Mordor."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Patience is a virtue. You gotta get through the boring stuff to appreciate the good stuff."

You scoffed. "And why is there no action? The first book was full of it, and now – “

"Not everything in life is fast-paced," Joel said, his voice softer now. "Some things take time. You gotta peel back the layers – doesn't make ‘em any less worth it."

Your breathing hitched, eyes locked onto his. As a chronic overthinker, you couldn’t decide if he was saying that with a double meaning or just as a throwaway comment? Surely, the former. Surely, he was talking about himself – trying to apologize without apologizing again – saying he had a lot of walls up, layers that needed peeling back. And that you were doing it, slowly but surely. And it would be worth it.

You couldn’t tell – but it gave you a little hope.

And that was why you ripped the band-aid off, cocked your head to the side, and joked, "Are you trying to give me life advice? Or get in my pants?"

Joel choked on his water, coughing into his fist. "What?"

"Some things in life are worth the effort," you echoed his words, lowering your voice to mimic him. "Like what, Joel? Are you teasing?"

"I could've meant anything when I said that," Joel retorted, attempting to regain his composure.

You crossed your arms, smirking. "But you didn't."

"You're real forward, you know that?" he deflected.

“And you're avoiding the question."

Before you could press further, Joel turned back to look at Ellie in the backseat of the truck. "We should get movin’. It's getting late, and we got a long drive ahead."

You sighed, disappointment flickering across your face. For the first time in days, a conversation between you two had felt easy. And just like that, it was over.

Clearing your throat, you muttered, “Right – got a schedule to keep.”

Joel could hear the shift in your voice, so he cleared his throat too, picking your book off the hood of the car to hand it to you. "Keep readin’. You're almost to the good part."

You took it from him, fingers grazing his. He pulled away quickly, but the warmth lingered.

Climbing into the truck, you stretched your feet up onto the dash. When Joel began to drive again, he tapped your leg once. When you ignored it, he reached over and grasped your ankle, gently pulling it down.

You frowned, making him say, "S’dangerous. What if we crash and the airbags go off? You could get injured."

You rolled your eyes, cheeks flushing. "You have so little faith in your driving skills, old man." Still, you kept your feet off the dash.

When Joel had turned onto the highway and you shifted your eyes down to your book, Ellie’s head popped up in the space between you two.

"I got something," she announced, holding a cassette tape out. "This make you all nostalgic?" She turned to Joel with a grin.

Joel took the tape from her, glancing at it before stating, "This is actually before my time. It's a winner, though,” He popped the tape into the slot. A moment later, the car filled with music, the static-crackled notes settling over the three of you.

"Got something else," Ellie announced. You could hear her flipping through pages in the back. "It's, uh... light on the reading, but it's got some interesting pictures."

You turned back, eyebrows raised, just in time to see her holding up a porn magazine. Joel caught it in the rear-view mirror at the same time, his entire body stiffening.

Your reaction was immediate. Laughter burst from your chest, bubbling up uncontrollably until tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Joel meanwhile, remained panicked, yet firmly put on his ‘parent voice.’

"Oh. No, no, no. Put that back. That's not for kids. Ellie."

His eyes darted between the road, you, and the rear-view mirror. Wiping a tear away, you simply giggled, “It’s sex ed.”

“It’s not,” Joel countered, exasperated.

"How would he even walk around with that thing?" Ellie gaped at the photo in front of her.

"Please get rid of it," Joel begged, visibly mortified.

Ellie sighed dramatically. "Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about."

Joel turned to you, desperation laced in his voice. "Can you…?”

You huffed, facing forward but holding your hand out for Ellie to hand the magazine over. "Why are all these pages stuck together?" Ellie asked, before shoving the magazine into your grasp.

You barely had a second to process the words before you recoiled, dropping the magazine like it had burst into flames.

"Ew, Ellie! What the fuck?!" you yelped, wiping your hand on the nearest fabric available – unfortunately, Joel’s jacket.

Joel turned to you with a disgusted look on his face and you both glanced at Ellie. "I'm just fuckin' with ya," she cackled, tossing the magazine out the window. “Bye-bye, dude.”

Joel made dinner that night, warming canned pasta over a small flame. Ellie scarfed it down.

"Slow down," Joel tried.

"This is slow," she mumbled, mouth full of food. "What am I even eating?"

"That is twenty-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli."

"That guy was good," Ellie complimented.

"I actually agree," Joel said, making you softly smile. Even if your relationship with him was somewhat strained, you still liked seeing him get along with Ellie.

Your eyes shifted to the girl in question, whose mood suddenly changed. She’d gone quiet, stirring her food idly. "What's on your mind, love?"

"How long are we staying out here?" she asked.

You turned to Joel. "I figure I sleep tonight... and drive tomorrow all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin'."

"Why don't you teach me how to drive tomorrow?" you suggested. "We can split the driving."

Joel gave you a flat look. "You don't know how to drive?"

"Must've missed driving lessons in the middle of the world ending."

“Alright, smartass,” he muttered.

Ellie pulled her jacket tighter around her. "Can we start a fire? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?" Joel asked. His tone caught your attention because it was the first time he'd used it with Ellie. It wasn't bad; he just sounded like a dad scolding his kid.

"Because Infected will see the smoke," Ellie droned, as if she already knew the answer.

Joel shook his head. "No, Fungus ain’t that smart. This is too remote for Infected, anyway."

"People?" Ellie asked, Joel nodded, jaw tight. "So what are they gonna do? Rob us?"

"Oh, they'll have way more in mind than that."

The way he said it made your stomach twist. Ellie stiffened slightly, and without thinking, you nudged Joel in the side. He shot you a look, rubbing his ribs.

You knew that comment would stick with Ellie.

Later that night, you felt Ellie shift beside you in the sleeping bag, restless. "Joel."

"What?"

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Yeah."

"Why did the scarecrow get an award?"

Joel waited a moment. "Because he was outstanding in his field."

Ellie's laughter filled the air around them. "You dick! Did you read this?"

"No." He turned back around. "Now go to sleep."

She then nudged you, whispering, "Hey... those people Joel mentioned... there's no way anyone knows we're here, right? No one's gonna find us?"

You ran your fingers through her hair, voice soft. "No one's gonna find us."

She sighed, curling deeper into the shared warmth. "Okay."

You should have fallen asleep easily after that, but something gnawed at your gut. Hours passed, and when you blinked awake, a shadowed figure stood a few feet away.

Your breath hitch, heart hammering – until you saw the familiar shape of his shoulders, the familiar line of his stance.

Joel.

He was standing watch.

Because of Ellie's comment.

You exhaled, tension unraveling from your limbs. Carefully, you slipped out of the sleeping bag, grabbed an extra blanket from the car, and made your way over to him.

“Busted,” you softly teased, grin wide as you plopped down against a tree nearby, draping the blanket over yourself. “How long you been up?”

He huffed quietly, making his way over to sit next to you under the blanket. “Never fell asleep.”

“You’re turning into a softie,” you accused. He didn’t deny it. “You want to get some sleep? I can take over.”

He shook his head. “Naw, I’m good.”

You silently nodded, but didn’t move, and Joel seemed to understand what that meant. This was you extending an olive branch, giving him the time and space to apologize for what he’d said back at Bill’s town, how he’d treated you.

A long pause stretched between you before he finally cleared his throat. “Listen, I uh… Back at Bill’s… I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

And, even though you’d given him the space to fill the silence with an apology, you suddenly found yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Which part?” You quietly asked, pulling at the weeds by your feet and staring ahead at the fire.

“All of it.”

Another silence. As far as apologies went, it was pretty shit – even Joel knew.

He forced himself to continue, as uncomfortable as it clearly made him. “I was pissed… Not at you, but I took it out on you anyway. Wasn’t right of me.”

You swallowed, finding the strength to meet his eyes. “Did you mean it?”

He frowned. “What?”

“That my grief is useless,” you said simply, watching his reaction. “That I’m not doing anything with it.”

He shut his eyes for a moment, silently berating himself for speaking such cruel words to you in the first place. “I didn’t mean it like that… I used to think… I used to think grief was somethin’ you had to carry, hold on to, or it meant you didn’t care.” He swallowed, eyes flickering toward Ellie’s sleeping form before coming back to you. “I was wrong.”

The admission hung between you two, heavier than anything else he’d said.

Your gaze softened. “I’m trying,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “I just don’t know what to do with all of it – I mean, I don’t – Nate would’ve – ” You cut yourself off quickly, realizing you’d let his name slip.

Joel studied you, watching how you froze for a second. And then, in a quiet movement, he reached out. It wasn’t much – the briefest of touches, the backs of his fingers grazing your wrist where your hand rested against your knee. But it was enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

His touch lingered, hesitant. Testing.

You could feel the calluses on his fingers, the warmth of his skin.

Your throat tightened, but he didn’t pull away. “I got no right tellin’ you what you should and shouldn’t do with your feelings,” he said, voice low, rough. “But I… I don’t want you carryin’ it alone. S’not fair.”

Your chest ached at that. Slowly, carefully, you turned your hand over, letting your fingers brush against his.

His breath hitched, just barely.

Before you could overthink it, you blurted, “Nate took care of Ellie and I in the QZ. He used to be a guard, but even so, we barely made ends meet… He used to get into these underground boxing fights to get some extra ration cards so we could eat. I told him it was dumb; we’d get them another way, but… he was stubborn.” You chuckled quietly. “I miss that about him.

“He wouldn’t let me go to those fights – said it wasn’t safe… And, one night he went, and he didn’t come back. And all the other guards got rid of his ID, the stuff in his locker, his uniform… like he never existed. They never spoke about him again… I filled in the blanks myself.”

After a beat of silence, Joel spoke up. “Nate,” he tried the name out on his tongue.

“Nathan,” you corrected, with a hint of a smile. “I was the only one he ever let call him that.” After a moment, you concluded. “Nathan. That’s the name behind my grief.”

Joel met your eyes, feeling his words escaping past his lips before he could try to wrangle them in. “Sarah,” he said in a voice softer than you’d ever heard it, speaking her name for the first time in a long time. “That’s the name behind mine.”

He didn’t say anything more; he wasn’t ready to. And that was alright by you.

For the first time, you let yourself lean into the proceeding quiet between you, into the way his presence steadied something in you.

And when his fingers finally curled around yours––warm, steady, solid––you let him.

The next day, Joel was slurping coffee like a man starved for it. And only you knew why. Because, with every sip he took, you felt the same bone-deep exhaustion he did. You’d stayed up all night too. Not because he asked you to, not because he let you take watch. Just because you kept him company, watching the dark stretch of road with him, listening to the quiet hum of the night.

Now, in the daylight, the atmosphere was much lighter. In the car, you kept glancing at Joel, a soft smile ghosting your lips. The weight was finally off your shoulders – you felt relief.

Hours passed with only light conversation and a Hank Williams cassette to fill the silence, until Ellie asked, “What’s his name?”

"Whose name, love?" you asked, looking up from your book.

"Joel's brother."

"Tommy," Joel answered.

"Younger or older?"

"Younger," you answered for him without thinking, your eyes flicking up to meet Joel’s. You tilted your head to the side. "Come on. You so give off older brother energy."

"Why isn't he with you?"

Joel exhaled through his nose, shifting in his seat. "Tommy's what we used to call a 'joiner.' Dreams of becomin' a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right outta high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm. Point is, bein' in the Army didn't make him feel much like a hero. Cut to 12 years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin' their way up to Boston, which I did... mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive.

"It's where we met Tess. And that whole crew, we, uh... Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin' the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was 18. Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of 'em... delusional. 'Course last I heard, he quit the Fireflies, too. So now he's on his own out there, and... I gotta go get him."

After a beat of silence, Ellie asked what you were thinking. "If you don't think there's hope for the world, why bother going on? I mean, you gotta try, right?"

"You haven't seen the world, so you don't know. You keep goin' for family. That's about it."

"I'm not family," Ellie said quietly.

"No... you're cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family."

You rolled your eyes at that comment. You knew he didn’t mean it, not really. You could see it, even if he couldn’t. He was starting to look at Ellie differently, starting to protect her like something precious. She wasn’t cargo – he just didn’t know it yet.

So, instead of snapping at him, you turned to Ellie, grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing. “You’re my family. That’s all that matters.”

You said it simply, with no resentment or sarcasm towards Joel. Ellie looked at you, eyes flickering with love and gratitude before she squeezed back.

An hour later, she was fast asleep in the back, making soft snoring sounds that were music to your ears. And, in the front, Joel was keenly aware of you curled up in a ball on your side of the seat.

"Look, what I said – "

You were already shaking your head. “I think one apology is enough for today,” you said considerately. “Besides, it’s not like you mean it.”

His brows furrowed. “What are you talkin’ about?”

You merely shrugged. “You don’t stay up on lookout all night for someone who’s just ‘cargo.’”

And, to that, he didn’t have a comeback.

You didn’t need to look at him to know he was chewing on your words, turning them over in that head of his.

The quiet stretched until he hit a road bump – a pileup of cars blocking off the rest of the highway.

You finally glanced up from your book, frowning. “Where are we?”

“Kansas City.” Joel sighed, eyes glued to the road. “Can you hand me the map, darlin’?”

You froze for half a second before handing him the map.

Darlin’.

It was the first time he’d ever called you that. It made you feel warm; your fingers tingled, like they wanted to reach out and take his –

“Screw it,” Joel cut off your thoughts. “We can jog around this tunnel, take the next ramp, and we’re back on the road. Minute tops.”

You swallowed, pushing whatever that was down, and turned to wake Ellie, knowing she’d want to see the city, even if it was just a glimpse.

What was meant to be “a minute tops” ended up being much longer. Joel got turned around, and you were no help with the map.

“I don’t know where we are,” you sighed in defeat.

Joel glanced at the map in your lap. “Don’t look at the state map. Turn it over to the inset.”

“Ellie’s better at this,” you argued before handing the map to the teenager in the back, hoping she could make sense of it.

“This is my second day in a fucking car, man,” she defended.

As they bickered, and Joel kept driving north––eyes constantly shifting between Ellie, the map, and the road––you felt it before you saw him.

A shift in the air. A sickly dread curled in your stomach, cold and sharp.

Your eyes remained glued to the figure stumbling onto the road.

“Joel,” you tugged at his sleeve, pulse spiking. “Joel!”

He looked up just in time to see the man clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers, staggering towards the car.

“Hey!” he cried, voice raw with pain. “Please help!”

Your stomach twisted.

Without taking his eyes off the man, Joel said, “Seatbelts. Now.”

You were already halfway through the motion, hands shaking slightly. You knew what was coming next.

“Aren’t we gonna help him? Ellie asked, voice lined with uncertainty.

“No,” you and Joel said in unison.

Your grip tightened on the dashboard as Joel slammed his foot on the gas.

The man barely had time to dive out of the way before something crashed onto the windshield from above, shattering glass in a spiderweb of cracks. Your heart lurched as the tires then hit a spike strip, the car jerking violently as they deflated.

A second figure appeared from around the corner.

Joel cursed under his breath, yanking the wheel hard. You barely had time to brace before the car crashed straight through a storefront window.

The impact sent shockwaves through your body; the air felt knocked out of you.

When the car stopped, Joel immediately turned to you. “Are you okay?” You nodded, swallowing hard. Your hands trembled, reaching for his arm as he turned back to Ellie. “You’re not hurt? Nothin’?”

“I don’t think so,” Ellie answered, just before gunshots rang through the air, aiming at the car. It made all three of you flinch, ducking down before quickly undoing your belts and exiting the car in a crouch.

Joel crouched between you and Ellie, rifle in hand as more gunshots rang through the air. The smell of gunpowder and dust clogged your nostrils, mixing with the metallic tang of your fight or flight response on your tongue.

“Hey,” Joel said, voice low but firm, grabbing your and Ellie’s attention. “You see that hole?” He was referring to one on the adjacent wall, leading through to another room. “Can you squeeze through?” He asked you, knowing Ellie would fit.

Your breath hitched. “What?” You squeaked. “I’m not leaving you.” Your fingers dug into your pack, pulling out your gun as if that alone would prove your point.

Joel barely spared it a glance. “When I say go, you two crawl to that wall and squeeze through. You don’t come out until I say, okay?”

You sighed in frustration as Ellie nodded along, head shifting nervously toward the sound of bullets. “They’re not gonna hit you, love,” you promised, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Now, can you do as Joel says?”

Joel turned to you, ready to argue, but you shook your head, pushing closer to him. “I’m not leaving you. Now, are we gonna protect Ellie and get out of this, or you wanna keep arguing?”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Instead, he turned to Ellie. “You stay down. You stay low. You stay quiet.”

Ellie nodded, clearly still nervous. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Joel echoed. He turned to you, eyes lingering like he was memorizing your face. Then, a sharp nod. “Go!”

You didn’t wait to see Ellie get to the hole – you had faith in her abilities. Instead, you and Joel both rose from behind the truck bed, guns aimed at the hostiles, and began firing.

Later, you retreated behind a toppled shelf, breath coming in short gasps as you reloaded. Only one hostile left.

When Joel took him down, you both waited a moment. Silence.

Then, when it was seemingly safe and Joel was fixing the jam in his gun, another body came hurtling through the back exit of the store, crashing into yours and sending you sprawled onto the cold concrete.

Your head smacked against the ground, and for a moment, everything blurred – the world narrowing into muffled noise and a high-pitched ringing.

Through your haze, you saw Joel pinned beneath the attacker, and your pulse roared to life. You scrambled to your feet, but before you could act, the sharp crack of a gunshot split the air.

Ellie stood a few feet away, arms locked, hands gripping a gun.

The man collapsed on top of Joel.

Joel shoved the body off of him, coughing and wheezing to catch his breath. You crouched down beside him, helping him sit up.

The man, now on his back, pressed a trembling and to his spine, pulling it away to see blood. His expression shifted from pain to shock to fear.

He looked up and met Ellie’s eyes past the barrel of her gun. “No, no, no. It’s okay,” he said, voice shaking. “It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore… I’ll go home and tell everyone you’re good.” A sob tore through him. “I don’t know what to do.”

You glanced down at Joel, sharing a silent, weighted look, before helping him up. His fingers curled around your forearm, grounding himself – or maybe grounding you.

“My legs don’t work,” the man wheezed. “My mom isn’t far, if you could get me to her… We could trade with you guys.”

A lump formed in your throat. The desperation in his voice clawed at something deep inside you, something you tried not to acknowledge. He was just a kid. Just a scared kid.

Beside you, Joel exhaled sharply, eyes flicking over you.

“We could be friends,” the man begged. “I didn’t know. I’m Bryan – I’m Bryan. What’s your name? Are you guys sisters?” His gaze darted between you and Ellie.

Your breath stuttered. You turned away, unable to look at him, unable to look at Ellie as tears brimmed your waterline.

From beside you, Joel’s voice came low, firm. “Get back behind the wall.”

Ellie hesitated, eyes shifting to you. You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from breaking. A hand covered your mouth, holding in any sound that threatened to slip free.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry – I’m sorry. Please, please – we could just talk. Please, please. No, no no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Over his shouts, Joel turned to you, voice barely audible. “You too, baby.”

You flinched. He wanted you to go too. To look away.

You bit your bottom lip, wiping away the tears as your grip on his jacket sleeve tightened. “I’m not leaving you,” you whispered.

It wasn’t fair to let him carry this alone. It seemed like he always did. And he always would if you let him.

Joel held your gaze, reading into everything you weren’t saying. He exhaled, nodding once.

The man sobbed, calling for his mother.

You pressed your forehead against Joel’s shoulder, eyes squeezing shut. His warmth seeped through his jacket, grounding you in the chaos and reality of the moment.

Joel raised his gun. The shot echoed in the small space, final and unforgiving.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Then, he turned to you, thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. His touch was fleeting, like he wasn’t sure if he should do it.

Then, he called out to Ellie, who cleared up the doorway for you two to enter the room she was currently in.

She caught you staring at her––not just you, Joel too––and shrugged off the looks.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, grabbing her pack off the floor. “I’m good.” She cleared her throat. “What now?”

While you observed her, Joel answered. “We go up. Hopefully, we can spot a clear route out.”

You reached for Ellie, a steady hand on her shoulder. She leaned into it for just a second before pulling away.

With one last glance at the wall, behind which the man’s lifeless body now laid, you followed Joel out.

And didn’t look back.

“Are we okay in here?” Ellie asked as the three of you holed up in some abandoned bar. The windows were boarded up with wooden planks and old, yellowed newspapers, their edges curling with age. Dust hung in the air, catching the slivers of light that managed to slip through the cracks.

“For now,” Joel answered before shaking his head. “But they’ll be comin’ through here soon enough.”

The shootout in the store had turned the entire resistance group in Pittsburgh against you. That explained why you hadn’t seen any FEDRA officers or a QZ – just a lawless city now teeming with people hunting you down.

Ellie had spotted a skyscraper a few blocks away. The plan was to wait until the patrols moved further out before making a break for it.

For now, you all settled in as best you could. Joel took a seat at the bar, his posture heavy with exhaustion, while you and Ellie slid to the floor, leaning against the barricaded windows. The wood was rough against your back, but it was better than nothing.

You winced as soon as your head rested against the panes, a sharp sting radiating from your scalp.

“You okay?” Ellie asked as you reached a tentative hand to your scalp and pulled it back to see your fingers sticky with blood.

As soon as Joel saw, he was kneeling in front of you, brows furrowed deep as he assessed the wound.

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured, trying to brush off the concern. “Just a cut on my scalp. It’ll stop bleeding if I put some pressure on it.”

Joel didn’t say anything, just got up and disappeared behind the bar, rummaging through whatever he could find. When he returned, he pressed a makeshift rag––as clean as he could find––firmly against the back of your head. His other hand was gently against your forehead, counterbalancing the force.

Even as he took such good care of you, he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You frowned. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Thing is… I didn’t hear that guy comin’... and if I did, you wouldn’t be bleedin’ and Ellie – “ He looked over at her, his expression pinched with guilt. “You wouldn’t have had to… you shouldn’t have had to… you know.”

Your stomach twisted as you followed his gaze. Ellie sat stiff, her fingers anxiously picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. You reached up, gently pulling Joel’s hand away so you could shift your focus to Ellie. Running a soothing hand through her hair, you spoke for him.

“I think what Joel means is… you’re only fourteen, love. You shouldn’t know what it means to have to make that decision.”

Joel swallowed hard and nodded. “It was my fault. You shouldn’t’ve had to… and I’m sorry.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into fists as she furiously wiped at her eyes. It wasn’t enough. You reached out and pulled her into your arms, pressing a soft kiss to her head as she clung to you. Her shoulders trembled against you, silent tears soaking into your shirt.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, your hand moving up and down her back in slow, steady strokes. “You’re okay now. You’re safe. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

You wished you could undo it. Wished you could take back her shot, take away the weight of what she had to do. But, the truth was, you couldn’t shield her from everything. You could only teach her how to survive it.

You met Joel’s gaze over the top of Ellie’s head, your voice quiet but firm. “Can I have her gun?”

He silently reached into the back of his jeans, pulling out the gun and handing it over to you. You unloaded the magazine and emptied the chamber before offering it to Ellie.

“Show me your grip,” you said gently.

Ellie adjusted her hold, her fingers wrapping around the handle.

The way she held it had Joel nearly scoffing. “Now, who taught you that?”

“FEDRA school.”

“Figures.” He reached over to correct her grip. “There you go. Now, look it.”

He went to snatch the gun from her, but Ellie tightened her grip, holding firm. Joel shook the gun lightly, testing her hold, but she didn’t let go. It made her giggle, and you found yourself smiling, storing away the rare lighthearted moment like a mental picture.

“Okay?” Joel asked, making Ellie beam and nod.

He loaded the gun and glanced your way––you nodded in silent agreement––before offering it back to Ellie, grip first.

“It’s only for emergencies,” you told her, watching as she started to tuck it into the waistband of her pants like Joel did.

“Nuh-uh,” Joel cut in, shaking his head. “You put it in your pack. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Ellie snorted. You laughed. The sound felt foreign but welcomed nonetheless in the middle of your current predicament.

When it was time to move, and Ellie went to tuck the gun into her bag, you helped Joel pull the barricades from the door. As you lifted one of the heavier planks, you let your fingers brush over his, squeezing gently in silent thanks.

He met your gaze. “We’ll get through this,” he promised.

You nodded, believing him. “I know.”

With Ellie between you, the three of you slipped out into the daylight, heading for the skyscraper. .

Climbing up thirty-three flights of stairs was brutal, even for you and Ellie. It hit Joel harder, making him feel his age by the time you reached your destination. As soon as you hit the landing, he dropped onto the floor with a groan.

Ellie nudged his boot. “Come on. Get up, you lazy ass.”

Joel scoffed. “Lazy ass?” He pushed himself up with a dramatic grunt. “Fifty-six years old, you little shit.”

You and Ellie giggled, setting up your makeshift beds. In no time, you had them set up – piles of cushions lined up, Ellie’s the furthest from the door, Joel’s the closest, and yours in between.

“I could sleep for five years,” Ellie yawned, sprawling out onto the cushions as her eyes fluttered shut. “Good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” Joel grumbled from your other side, settling into his bed.

Having used your hoodie for a pillow, you stared up at Joel, meeting his gaze with big, expectant eyes. He took one look and sighed, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it over you. You grinned and pulled it close.

When he laid on his side, facing you, you frowned and pulled his cushions closer to yours. “What’re you doin’?” He whispered, watching you tug your makeshift pillow between you two, wordlessly offering him the other end.

After a beat, he shuffled closer, resting his head on the hoodie. You pulled up the extra fabric of his jacket, covering him as well. Then, you settled again, eyes shutting as your breathing began to even out.

He could feel it on his neck, and he wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d get if continued – it was all he could think about.

“Joel,” Ellie whispered, cutting through the silence of the night. He hummed, acknowledging her. “Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?”

Joel lifted his head up off your hoodie to look at her. “What?”

He glanced down to see a smile forming at your lips, though your eyes remained shut.

“Yeah,” Ellie continued quietly before snickering. “It runs in your jeans.”

He pressed his head back down to your hoodie, mumbling, “Jesus,” into it before he began laughing quietly, joining Ellie. “That is so goddamn stupid.”

Ellie giggled again from your other side. “You laughed, motherfucker.”

“I didn’t laugh,” he denied.

“Yes, you did.”

You peeked an eye open. “You did,” you mumbled with a smile of your own, finding yourself shuffling closer to him.

“Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” he muttered, barely audible.

“Big time,” you mumbled practically against his chest at this point.

And for the first time in a long time, you slept soundly. Until Ellie’s voice cut through the silence once more, tensely calling out to you and Joel.

Your eyes snapped open, body tensing at her tone. You immediately sat up, your movement waking Joel, whose body was pressed against yours in sleep.

You barely had a second to process before you saw it – Ellie, hands up, a gun pointed at her head.

Your eyes moved up the hand holding the gun and settled upon a familiar face.

“Henry?”

taglist: @orcasoul @lizlil@littleshadow17 @joeldjarin @mrsyixingunicorn10 @luvwanda @escaping-reality8 @hoddystark @mmkkzz @victoriaholland @xodilfluvr @mystickittytaco @21tao

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bigification · 22 days ago

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High Stakes DnD

Synopsis: Three men start a DND campaign and learn the hard way that whatever happens to their characters, happens to them in real life. As each of them transform, they have to work together to beat the campaign or be stuck the way they are forever.

"All three of you enter the dark and dingy lair, what would you like to do next?" Said the DM.

"Can I check for magical traps?" Jeremy asks, playing the wizard.

"Roll an arcana check." The DM responds.

Jeremy rolls a 14.

"There are no magical traps you can sense nearby, but you notice magic emanating from further into the lair."

"I want to shoot a flaming arrow down the dark corridor to try and see further." Dan asks, playing the elf ranger.

"Roll a perception check."

Dan rolls a 9.

"The flaming arrow doesn't light up as much of the corridor as you hoped. Though you do see a turn about 50 metres ahead of you."

"I'm gonna charge ahead! I can take whatever this lair throws at me." John says brazenly, playing the barbarian.

"Roll and athletics check."

John rolls a 1.

"Ooh that's unfortunate. You instantly trip and fall flat on your face. As you try to get up, your hand pushes down a pressure plate. As soon as the pressure plate clicks into place, a thick green liquid begins to shoot out of the floor. Make a dexterity saving throw."

John rolls a 7.

"You try to dodge out of the way, but you don't react in time. The stream of green liquid shoots directly into your mouth. You're shocked by how good it tastes, almost like a sweet tea. The liquid fills your stomach, leaving you extremely bloated."

"I want to pull him away from the trap."

Dan rolls a 16 on his strength check.

"You manage to pull him out of the trap, but not before litres of the mysterious liquid entered his body."

"Guys, I don't feel great." The barbarian expresses as he lays heavy against the wall.

"You suddenly feel a tightness grow under your armour. You look down to see your stomach has continued bloating, pushing out your chest plate. It keeps bloating and bloating until it becomes obvious that it's no longer a bloat. Within moments, your six pack becomes a round and hairy gut, protruding under your chest plate."

"Guys what's happening!?" John freaks out as the changes start to affect him in real life as well. His slim figure quickly swells as a large ball gut rides up his shirt, revealing a hairy gut underneath his shirt.

"You let out a loud burp that sends ripples through your soft belly. Next you hear your chest plate stretch as your solid pecs soften under a thick layer of fat. Your chest plate breaks in half, falling to the ground as your man tits sag onto your belly."

"Buuuurrrraaaappp" John let's out a massive belch as he grows a pair of soft man tits that press tight against his shirt. "Why does it feel so... Good?" He moans as his nipples triple in size and a forest of hair grows on his chest.

"Those strong limbs of yours don't fare any better. The chiseled definition in your arms is buried under soft fat, and your hands become swollen with thick fat filled fingers. Your thighs become thick as a tree trunk, making it hard for you to walk and your feet burst out of your tiny shoes. And that perky ass of yours becomes so big that it sags under its own weight."

The changes quickly apply to John, making the rest of his body match his hulking gut. His arms and legs swell, his hands and feet double in size, and his ass becomes so wide it doesn't fit in his chair anymore.

"And don't think that pretty face is safe either. Your once sharp barbarian features soften under layers of pudge. Your sharp jawline and strong chin melt into three double chins. Your cheek bones are buried under your chubby cheeks. You're finally left twice your previous weight, bursting out of your armour, and barely capable of moving."

John's transformation in real life also completes, making his face much wider and rounder. Unlike his fantasy counterpart, John does not have massive muscles to give him more definition under his fat. So he is left fat yet scrawny limbs and a massive ball gut that hangs over his waist.

"What the fuck just happened!?" Jeremy asks, surprised at watching friends balloon into a 300 pound blob of a man.

"I must have forgotten to mention it..." The DM says in a sinister tone. "Any changes that happen to your character in the campaign apply to you in real life."

"God I'm so hungry." John interrupts.

"Good thing there's a whole buffet prepared behind you buddy." The DM points to a table of food behind John.

"Wait, is any of this permanent?"

"Only if you fail to complete the campaign."

"Oh god, I can't end up like John."

"Let's just beat the campaign and get this over with."

"Fine, let's go."

"Let's walk to the turn I saw earlier."

"You make it to the turn with no problems, but the fat barbarian now has halved movement speed, so it takes you longer than you'd expect. Also, the barbarian's constitution has gone up by 4 and his dexterity has gone down by 6."

"I'm sorry, you guys just don't get how hard it is being my size." John complained.

"Whatever, let's keep walking."

"The hallway opens up into what seems to be a room, but it's too dark to tell. Roll a perception check."

Dan rolls an 18.

"You hear footsteps getting louder and louder from the darkness. You look in the direction of the footsteps and see a large figure emerge from the darkness. It lunges at you, but you manage to step out of the way just as a spear nearly misses you. Roll initiation."

Dan rolls a 22

John rolls a 14

Jeremy rolls a 6

"The top of the round is Dan. What would you like to do?"

"I want to shoot double arrows."

He rolls a 16 on hit for the first arrow, and 18 for the second.

"That's a hit, roll for damage."

"9 on the first arrow, 6 on the second arrow."

"Your first arrow lodges into the creature's chest, and the second into its arm. It lets out a guttural growl that echoes around the room as it rips out both arrows. It then lunges at you again with its spear. Does a 12 hit?"

"No."

"He lunges at you, but you quickly pull up your wooden shield. The spear slices through the shield but not far enough to hit you, and you notice a green liquid that is leaking from the tip of the spear."

"Can I pull on the spear to get a better look at the creature?"

Dan rolls a 15 on his strength check.

"You yank on its spear with all your strength, causing it to stumble forward. This brings it just close enough for you to tell that it is an orc, about 7 feet tall with big muscles, tusks, and dark green skin."

"Now it's your turn, John."

John looks up from his plate of food. "Oh, right."

"I will rage and swing my mace at him."

John rolls a nat 20 to hit.

"It's a critical! Now roll for damage."

"16 damage, doubles because of the Crit."

"Those big barbarian muscles are still hidden under your fat, and you use them to swing your mace directly into the orcs ribs. You hear a crack and his ribs snap, and you leave multiple stab wounds in his side from the spikes on your mace. The orc doesn't look good, but he's still fighting. In retaliation, he will try to right hook you. Does a 17 hit?"

"Yes."

"Despite his broken ribs, the orc charges at you and swings his fist right into the side of your jaw, knocking you on your ass. He deals 11 bludgeoning damage and you're knocked prone."

"Now it's the orcs turn. He will use his movement to sprint straight towards Jeremy."

"What! Why me?"

"He sees you as the weak link and he figures he can get one kill before going down."

"What the hell!"

"He lunges with his spear. Does a 14 hit?"

"Yes."

"He stabs his spear directly into your stomach, now you need to do a constitution saving throw."

Jeremy rolls a 9.

"Just barely fails. He deals 16 piercing damage and the liquid on his spear has made its way into your body, infecting you."

"It's my turn now, right?"

"It is, however, you are having trouble moving due to the infection taking over your body. You spend your turn writhing in pain. It is back to the top of the round, Dan's turn."

"I want to again shoot 2 arrows."

Dan rolls a 6 and a 17 to hit.

"The second arrow hits, roll for damage."

Dan rolls a 12.

"The first arrow flies by the orc, lodging itself into the wall. The second arrow flies directly into the back of the orcs head, piercing straight through and sticking out of his forehead."

"Fuck yeah!"

"I would take this as such a victory, as you hear painful grunts coming from the wizard."

"What?"

"As you approach, the wizard pushes aside his robe to reveal the spear wound. A growing green liquid is oozing inside of it, and it looks like the skin around it is turning green. The green ooze pumps through his veins, glowing through his skin as it's pumped all around his body. Finally, the ooze makes its way to the wizard's brain. Within an instant, his facial expression changes from pain to shock as two tusks grow from his lower jaw. They grow to about three inches long, pointing up towards his cheeks as his lower jaw widens to fit them. His nose also widens and his brow one becomes a lot more prominent as his eyes go from green to dark brown. His straight blonde hair becomes dark and coarse as it spreads down his side burns into a thick beard that covers his massive jaw."

"Guys, I don't feel so good."

Jeremy holds his head as if he had a sudden migraine. He looks up at his friends as his human features start to morph, just like his wizard counterpart. His jaw thickens as tusks grow from his mouth. His brow bone becomes more prominent, making him look like a dumb himbo. His skin starts to take on a green hue as his eyes turn brown and his hair becomes dark and coarse.

"You fall back as the infection takes over. That smart wizard brain of yours is starting to fail you as it becomes increasingly difficult to think. But it's not like you'll need that brain, you're an orc after all, you're quite strong. Your muscles swell, giving massive biceps, thick pecs, and a defined six pack as your wound begins to heal."

"Please help... Think... Hard."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

Jeremy lets out a deep growl as his body starts to grow. His T-shirt and shorts tighten against his green skin as his muscles swell. His clothes rip in half in dramatic fashion, leaving him naked and showing off his growing dick. He brings his massive orc hands to cover his cock, but it's so big that it's near impossible to hide. Meanwhile, his perspective shifts higher and higher as his body grows to a hulking 7 feet tall.

"After your wound has fully healed, you stand back up, now towering over your party. Looking at your tiny elf friend fills you with a sudden confidence. You stand there for a moment to flex while your party watches in shock. Your biceps are massive and you can now bounce your juicy pecs, not to mention your perky ass cheeks. But after you're done with your one man show, John tosses you a cloth that doesn't fit him anymore, just so you can cover up your manhood. You look down at your wizard garb on the floor in pieces before grabbing the cloth and putting it on."

"Feel... Good."

Jeremy's voice is deep and gruff, no longer holding the wisdom he once had. He uses his thick hands to explore his new body, finding new bulging muscles all over his body. John and Dan just have to watch as his 12 inch dick starts to stick straight up in the air while he rubs his swollen muscles. He's only brought back to reality when his chair starts to creak under his weight.

"Can we just move on and get this over with."

"The three of you keep moving deeper into the lair, stopping every once in a while to let John catch his breath. The hallway becomes warmer and more humid the longer you venture."

"This has got to be a trap, I want to scout for traps."

"Roll a perception check."

Dan rolls a nat 20.

"Fuck yeah!"

"You carefully survey your surroundings, using sight, smell, and sound to scout for traps, but you don't find any. All you notice is a faint golden glow coming from the end of the hallway."

"I'll run ahead, I can end this. Just meet me up there."

"You run to the end of the hallway and see a large golden door, slightly ajar. You sneak in to see a large glittering cave, the floor covered in golden treasures and reflect the light all over the caves walls. What will you do?"

"I will try to climb up the treasure to get a better view of the cave."

"Roll an acrobatics check."

Dan rolls a nat 1.

"You try to climb a small pile of treasure, but lose your footing and fall, taking some treasure down with you. You slam on the floor, taking 5 bludgeoning damage before the treasure hits the ground, making a loud clanging noise that echoes throughout the cave. After a moment of silence, the ground starts to shake violently as you see a large figure emerge from the pile of gold."

"I want to hide."

"Roll a stealth check."

Dan rolls a 14.

"You manage to hide behind the pile of gold that you failed to climb. You hear heavy footsteps approaching you, each one shaking the ground. You hear sniffing coming from the other side of the gold pile, then it suddenly stops. The brief silence allows you to hear your heartbeat, but it doesn't last long as the creature swipes away the gold you were hiding behind. You stand still for a moment, struck by the creature that stands before you. It's a red dragon, at least 10 stories tall with a big scaly belly that hangs in front of him. It's also got quite big breasts, along with a long neck with a white mane and a white goatee."

"I want to run back to the hallway."

"Roll an athletics check."

Dan rolls an 18.

"You start sprinting as fast as you can back to the hallway. The dragon just laughs in response. "It's been a while since I've had visitors, it would be rude for you to leave so soon." The dragon says. He takes one step forward, covering more ground than you have since you began running. With one swift motion, he grabs you tight in one hand and lifts you up to his face. His breath is hot against your skin. "I could use a companion, one that'll never leave." The dragon says with a grin on his face. He starts casting a spell with his off hand, red particles swirl around his hand before he presses one of his claws into your chest, right in front of your heart. Roll a constitution saving throw."

Dan rolls an 8.

"You try to fight off the dragons magic, but it's too strong. A symbol etches into your chest where his claw was, signing your fate. You can feel it infecting your mind as your body starts to swell. Your shirt rips open as your stomach surges forward, growing into a thick beer belly that resembles that of the dragon. Your flat chest also grows into two soft breasts that lay on your gut. Your pants don't last long either as your thighs thicken to the point of ripping through them."

Similar to John, Dan starts to swell out of his clothes. He grows a ball belly that lays on his lap and two fat man tits that sag into his gut. His love handles squeeze against the arms of his chair, threatening to break through them.

"I... I want to... resist."

"It is too late to resist, the spell has reached your mind and has started erasing your core values and memories, leaving you as a blank slate. Meanwhile, your body starts to take on draconic features, just like your master. Your elven features melt away as a thick snout grows on your face with tusks and rows of sharp teeth. Horns grow on your head as red scales cover your face, making you look nearly identical to your master, save for the long neck. The red scales grow all over your plump body as a thick tail emerges right above your fat ass."

Dan's human features quickly morph into those of a dragon, just like his elven counterpart. The snout, sharp teeth, and horns, along with the red scales covering his body. Though he's forced out of his seat when his tail grows in, making it impossible for him to sit in any ordinary chair. As he gets back up, he flashes the table with his thick dragon dick, now that he's got nothing to cover himself up.

"I... Must serve... My master."

"As the spell finalizes, you are left as a loyal young dragon, eager to serve his master and one day grow strong like him. The spell makes it so that every time you do what his master says, you will grow, eventually becoming an elder dragon just like your master. Your master puts you down just as your party arrives."

"Dan? What happened?"

"My master made me a good dragon."

"Why is that dragon pretending to be Dan?"

"That is Dan, you dumbass! The dragon must have cast a dragons seal on him."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we have to kill the dragon."

"I would never let my master get hurt."

"As the words leave your mouth, you grow. Becoming ever closer to an elder dragon."

The floor creaks as Dan grows in real life as well. Soon enough the house won't be able to contain him.

"Roll for initiative."

Eager to please his master, Dan gets a 24, going first.

"I use fire breath."

"Your snout starts to glow red before you release a continuous blast of fire towards your party. Since they both grew out of their armour, there is nothing to protect them from the intense flame. Both of you take 30 fire damage."

"I rage and charge at Dan full speed."

"You yell in anger as you start to run towards Dan, but you still haven't gotten used to your new body so it looks more like a waddle than a charge. You tuck in your shoulder and throw your immense weight into the dragon, but you simply bounce off his belly, sending ripples through his fat."

"I use my reaction to talk to John."

"You approach John as he lays on the ground and whisper into his ear, "You could have all the food you could ever imagine if you join us." John's ears perk up at the idea. perform an wisdom saving throw."

John rolls a 4.

"He convinces you right away with the promise of infinite food, Dan grows again, surpassing 9 feet. Jeremy, you're up."

"I unarmed strike Dan"

"You run at him and launch the strongest punch you can muster, but his thick fat absorbs most of the force. You deal 5 bludgeoning damage. In response, Dan grabs your head and says, "look around, all this gold could be ours if you just join us." Roll an intelligence saving throw"

Jeremy rolls a 6.

"The glowing treasure leaves you awestruck, and you take his deal. Once again causing him to grow."

Dan hits 10 feet, his head hitting the ceiling and his gut pushing against the table. There is not enough room in there to hold him.

"The three of you happily join the dragon for eternity under the promise of food and riches. Dan continues to grow closer and closer to an elder dragon, John eats until he's unable to leave the cave even if he wanted to, and Jeremy is simply too stupid to resist the dragons persuasion. You lose."

"We lost?"

Jeremy twiddles his thumbs, waiting for someone to tell him what to do.

"It's not a loss if you ask me."

John chuckles as he stuffs his face with food.

"As long as my master is happy, I'm happy."

Dan's head breaks through the roof.

"Don't beat yourself up, big guy. At least you had fun."

The DM approached Jeremy, massaging his massive muscles. His hands slowly drifted down to Jeremy's dick, revealing his ulterior motive. He's got all three of his friends under his control, exactly where he wants them.

#male tf #male transformation #masculine #reality change #male wg #muscle tf #fat tf #fat belly #fantasy tf

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imjustreadinglmao · 1 year ago

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BLUE

Paring: Azriel x Reader, Lucien x platonic!Reader

Summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when long kept secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

PART I

word count: 3k

A/N: this is part 1 of BLUE. I changed the beginning a bit to fit the storyline. Please be nice this is my first fic :)

Warnings: light angst, unrequited love, mention of childhood trauma/ mention of ãbuse (not described)

part 2

I stir my black tea as Rhysand files through the report I handed him just seconds ago.

The steam from the tea rises, curling in delicate tendrils, carrying with it a sense of fleeting warmth that I desperately cling to.

Rhysand’s office is both grand and simple.

Bookshelves line the walls, filled with volumes on history, strategy, and magic. A fireplace to the right. Above it, a large portrait of Velaris shows the city bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Feyre gifted it to him last starfall.

Heavy velvet drapes in shades of midnight blue frame the windows, ready to be drawn shut for privacy.

In the distance I can make out the mountains with their snow-capped peaks and the Sidra winding through the valley below.

“I have to say, I’m impressed you were able to convince Devlon so fast.”

I look up at Rhys and chuckle, the sound hollow to my own ears. “It does help if you threaten to cut his balls off and stake them to the wall for everyone to see.”

Rhys lifts a brow and barks out a laugh. “I see.”

I rarely go on missions anymore, choosing to work as an advisor for Rhysand.

Missions used to be exciting, but nowadays I prefer the comfort my room provides. The sense of security it brings is a balm to my soul, now more than ever.

I take this as a sign to stand up and lift my bag from the floor. I sling it over my shoulder and make my way to the door.

“Don’t forget tonight’s family dinner,” Rhysand calls after me. I don’t look back, just give him a thumbs-up and close his office door behind me.

As I make my way downstairs and through the foyer, I spot Lucien strapping on his sword. Presumably getting ready for training, he has always been an early riser.

“How did the mission go?” Lucien doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s me approaching.

I let out a sigh and rub my temples. “Good.” I stop beside him and flop onto the recamier right next to the front door. “Well, as good as paying the camps a visit can get.”

Lucien cracks a smile at that, his amber eyes twinkle with amusement. He knows exactly how difficult it is to convince Devlon of something he isn’t particularly fond of.

“Are you coming to the family dinner tonight?” I ask, my voice betraying a hint of reluctance.

Lucien sheaths his blade and nods. “Feyre will have my head if I don’t show up. I already missed the last one.”

I cringe at the mention of the last family dinner. The memory alone sends a sharp pang through my chest.

———————

I walk into the dining room, ready to face yet another family dinner. I spot Mor right away, radiant in her blood-red gown. The sight of her is always one of familiarity and comfort.

“Hey, got another one of those?” I point to the wine glass in her hand. She arches a brow and hands me one filled to the brim.

“Are we so exhausting that you need liquid encouragement to get through the night?” she muses. I just roll my eyes, trying to hide my amusement.

Right as she opens her mouth to say something, the back of my head begins to tickle. He is here.

I turn around to see Azriel walk through the door, and he is not alone. Elain is beside him, their hands intertwined.

Even though I was expecting it to happen soon, the sight still hits me like a physical blow. It was always just a matter of time till Azriel and Elain decided to go against Rhys‘s order and make their love official.

I‘m glad, Lucien isn’t here to witness this. I can’t imagine how it would be for him.

Since only my side of the bond snapped into place, seeing how in love they are, is somehow… manageable. For Lucien it would be almost deadly.

I look back at Mor, her expression as shocked as mine. “I didn’t know,” she whispers, her face now bearing a look of worry and pity.

To say the dinner is awkward would be an understatement. Nobody really knows what to say after Elain and Azriel walked in holding hands.

I just shove the potatoes on my plate around, too nauseous to eat anything. The lump in my throat makes swallowing impossible.

Cassian clears his throat and points to Azriel and Elain. “So how long has this been going on?” Nesta jabs her elbow into his ribs, which earns her an “oww”, and throws me an apologetic look.

Besides Mor, only Lucien and Nesta know about the bond between me and Azriel. Their concern a constant reminder of the bond I try so hard to ignore.

“Well…” Azriel coughs, noticeably uncomfortable with being put on the spot. “It all happened very quickly. We spent a lot of our nights up and talking and realized we didn’t want to hold back anymore.”

He gazes down at her, smiling. I recognize that look. The realization twists the knife in my heart.

That’s how I look at him.

—————————

“Are you even listening?” Lucien waves a hand in front of my face to snap me out of my haze. His voice pulls me back to the present, but the ache remains.

I rub my eyes. “Uh… sorry. What exactly were you saying?”

He crosses his arms and looks down at me. “I was asking if you wanted to go training with me. But it seems what you really need is some sleep.”

I roll my eyes and stand up. “You know me so well, Lu.” I pat his shoulder and walk out the door. “See you at dinner tonight.”

Velaris is most beautiful at night, but nothing can beat the quiet and peace of the early mornings.

I walk down the high street, greeting some of my favorite vendors with a smile, until I reach the familiar townhouse.

After I officially became part of Rhysand’s inner circle, he offered me to stay at his townhouse.

It had many perks: no rent, right in the heart of Velaris, and an endless wine supply thanks to Rhysand’s "secret" wine cellar.

There is really only one downside.

“I didn’t think you would be back so soon.” Azriel sits at the dinner table eating breakfast. He has his fighting leathers on, probably on his way to the House of Wind for Valkyrie training.

Cassian and Azriel still train the Valkyries every morning. Sometimes I join, but only when Nesta drags me up there.

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” I laugh awkwardly. “I’m going to head upstairs to rest. Say hello to Nesta for me.” The words taste bitter, a poor attempt to mask the hurt.

I turn around before he has the chance to say something else, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

Yes, that is the downside. The constant reminder of what I had lost and could never have.

Him.

——————

The dining room buzzes with conversation as everyone settles in for dinner.

Azriel and Elain sit together, a vision of contentment that sends a pang through my heart.

Across the table, Lucien’s jaw is tight, his gaze fixed on his plate.

“Thank you all for coming,” Rhysand begins, standing at the head of the table. “I have an important announcement to make.”

He glances at Lucien and me, a hint of apology in his eyes. “We’ve decided to support Eris in overthrowing Beron.

Lucien and you,” he points at me, “will lead the mission to the Autumn Court.”

A murmur runs through the room. Lucien looks up, his eyes meet mine.

There is a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his gaze that makes my heart ache.

The Autumn Court doesn’t hold great memories for either of us.

But before I can fully process Rhysand’s words, Azriel stands abruptly, his expression dark and tense.

“Why them?” Azriel’s voice is sharp, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. “Why not send someone else?”

Rhysand frowns slightly, clearly not expecting this reaction.

“Both of them have a unique advantage given their history with Eris and the Autumn Court. It’s a strategic decision.”

Azriel’s eyes flicker to me, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.”

I feel a surge of frustration. Azriel’s protectiveness, though touching, is misplaced and completely out of character.

“What’s your problem, Azriel?” I snap, unable to hold back.

“I’m more than capable of leading this mission. Or do you think I’m not good enough to do my job?”

His eyes narrow, the tension between us thickening. “That’s not what I meant,” he retorts, his voice lower but no less intense.

“I just don’t think it’s wise to send specifically you two into such a volatile situation. You can’t just throw yourself into danger like that.”

My heart pounds in my chest. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re always in danger, always risking everything. How is that different from this mission?”

“It’s different because—” Azriel stops himself, glancing at Elain, who is watching us with wide eyes. He seems to struggle for a moment before finishing, “It doesn’t matter, just let someone else do the mission. You’re an important asset to this court.”

Before I could respond with something I’d surely regret, Elain’s voice cuts through the tension.

“Azriel, stop.” Her voice is calm but firm, a hint of desperation in her eyes. “This isn’t helping.”

Azriel turned to Elain, his expression softens slightly, but the tension remains. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry. I just… I worry.”

Lucien’s gaze hardens, “We’ve faced worse,” he says, a challenge in his tone. “We are capable enough to lead this mission, we don’t need your approval, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “It’s not about capability. It’s about safety. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“Anyone?” I echo, my voice rises. “Or just Elain’s mate?”

The words hang in the air, charged with emotion. Azriel flinches slightly.

“This has nothing to do with Lucien being Elain‘s mate,” he says, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

“But it does, doesn’t it?” My words laced with venom. “If Lucien were to get hurt, it would cause Elain distress, that’s how a mating bond works. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Elain looks down, her face unreadable, while Lucien’s gaze flickers between Azriel and me.

“We all know the risks,” Lucien says more calmly this time, “And we’re prepared to face them.”

Rhysand interjects, his voice low but authoritative. “Enough. We’re all on the same side here. This is a mission we need to undertake for the greater good. Personal feelings need to be set aside.”

I take a deep breath and try to steady the storm of emotions within me. Rhysand is right, the last thing we need is Azriel and me fighting.

Rhysand sits down, his tone final. “This mission is vital. We need to trust each other and stay focused. We’ll discuss this further tomorrow. For now, let’s try to enjoy the evening.”

The atmosphere is strained as we resume our meal. I can feel Azriel’s gaze on me.

Lucien reaches over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it meant everything in that moment.

I don’t say a word throughout the whole dinner. Choosing to stay quiet instead of lashing out.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission would change everything.

---

The garden of the River House is a haven of tranquility. Blooming flowers and lush greenery everywhere Elain truly is a talented gardener.

I find Lucien leaning against a stone pillar, his gaze lost in the Sidra's gentle flow.

I approach him quietly, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. “Mind if I join you?” I ask softly.

Lucien looks up, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Of course not. I was just enjoying the peace before the storm.”

I halt beside him, the tension from the dinner still coils tightly in my chest. “Quite the announcement, wasn’t it?”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I knew something like this was coming, but hearing it confirmed… it’s different.

Eris must be desperate if he reached out to Rhysand.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yes, it’s a lot. I wish Rhys would have told us separately. This topic is already very emotional I really didn’t need Azriel’s… concern too.”

Lucien’s eyes darken at the mention of Azriel. “He’s protective, that’s clear. But he doesn’t have the right to undermine your abilities.”

“It’s not just that,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “His words, his actions… they confuse me. One moment he’s distant, the next he’s overly concerned. I don’t understand him.”

Lucien’s gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “He cares about you. He might not be aware of it but you’re his mate, bond snapping into place or not, it’s his priority to keep you safe. That can’t be changed, even if he’s in love with someone else.”

I look away, the garden blurring before my eyes. “It hurts, Lucien. Seeing him with Elain, pretending to be something they’re not. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Lucien reaches out, his hand covering mine. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve all got our battles to fight, and sometimes the hardest ones are with our own hearts.”

A moment of silence stretches between us, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

“And what about you?” I ask, turning to look at him. “How are you handling all of this? Eris, the Autumn Court… it can’t be easy for you.”

Lucien’s expression grows somber. “It’s not. But I’ve come to terms with my past and everything my father did to me. I knew this was going to happen. Eris has the chance to change things, to make the Autumn Court a better place. I can’t turn my back on that.”

He smiles at that. “And maybe, when all of this is over, we’ll find some semblance of peace.”

As we stand there, the garden enveloping us in its quiet embrace, I feel a sense of calm settle over me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I know we have each other’s backs.

—————————

The war room in the House of Wind is filled with dread as we gather around the large oak table.

Rhysand stands at the head, his usual easy demeanor replaced by a grave seriousness.

To his right, Amren sits with her usual enigmatic expression, while Cassian leans against the wall, arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

Azriel is on my left, his gaze unreadable, and Lucien sits across from me, his eyes focused and determined.

Rhysand unfurls a detailed map of the Autumn Court, its forests and strongholds marked with meticulous detail.

“Eris has provided us with information about Beron’s movements and the layout of his court. Our objective is to infiltrate the main stronghold, gather intelligence, and support Eris in his efforts to dethrone Beron.”

Lucien nods, his jaw set. Rhys continues. “We’ll enter through the southern border. Eris has arranged for a distraction that will draw most of Beron’s guards away from the main stronghold. This will give us the opportunity to slip in and meet with Eris.”

Amren leans forward, her sharp eyes assessing the map. “And what about Koschei? He’s been a wild card in all of this. His alliance with Beron could complicate things.”

Rhysand nods in agreement. “Koschei is a concern. According to Eris, Koschei has been providing Beron with dark magic. We need to be prepared for any magical traps or barriers.”

Azriel’s voice cuts through the discussion. “I’ll handle the reconnaissance. I’ll fly ahead and ensure the path is clear before they move in.”

I glance at him, he hasn’t looked at me or said a single thing to me since yesterday. If I didn’t know better I would say he was sulking.

Rhysand continues, “Once inside, our main goal is to secure the throne room and neutralize Beron’s guards. Eris will confront Beron directly. You,” he gestures to Lucien and me, “need to be ready to support him.”

Lucien nods again, his eyes meeting mine across the table. “We’ll be ready.”

Rhysand’s gaze softens slightly as he looked at us. “This mission is dangerous, but it’s necessary. Any questions?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle on my shoulders. “What if things go wrong? Do we have an extraction plan?”

Amren smirks. “We have a plan. Azriel and I will be your backup. If things go south, we’ll get you out, girl.”

Azriel nods, his eyes meeting mine. “You won’t be alone out there. We’ll be watching.”

There is a moment of silence as everyone absorbs the gravity of this mission.

Finally, Rhysand speaks again, his voice resolute. “We leave at dawn. Get some rest and prepare yourselves.”

As we all stand to leave, Azriel catches my arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “What is it, Azriel?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I know you’re capable. But this mission… it’s dangerous, and I can’t shake the feeling that something might go wrong. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

His concern should touch me, but I can’t help and feel angry. “I know the risks, Azriel. And I’ll be careful. But you need to trust me to do my part.”

He sighs, running a scarred hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or your abilities. I just… I can’t lose you.”

Before I can respond, Lucien approaches.“Ready?” Lucien asks, his eyes flicker between Azriel and me. I nod, giving Azriel one last look.

“Ready.”

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peachesclose · 16 days ago

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360 ◎ Choi Seung-Hyun

◎ Summary: In the neon-lit heart of Seoul, two fierce rivals—an edgy gallery owner and a sharp-tongued artist—circulate dangerously close in a high-stakes orbit of competition, teasing and tormenting each other with barbed words and heated glances, until one electric night breaks down their walls, and enemies become something far more complicated.

◎ Warnings: features intense sexual tension, biting/teasing banter, power dynamics, and enemies-to-lovers vibes. please read responsibly if you’re comfortable with heat and a little bit of chaos

◎ Peaches' note: i'm so excited for this brat summer challenge! please show a lot of love to these amazing writers who are participating in this. and separate, the biggest thank you to @gdinthehouseee! i'm so thankful to you for seeing my work and inviting me! <3

◎◎◎

You saw him before you heard him. Seung-Hyun had a presence that didn't just walk into rooms—it claimed them. Tall, sharp-suited, cigarette always dangling from his fingers like an afterthought, he was the kind of chaos that came wrapped in velvet.

"You're in my spot, Jagiya," he murmured, his voice like silk drenched in smoke, standing over you with that lopsided smirk that had already ruined a dozen women and at least two men. He was all expensive indifference, the kind of man who made even defiance feel like foreplay.

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you leaned back in the black leather barstool, the dim gold lighting glinting off the crystal in your drink, and crossed your legs in a deliberate, languid motion. The slit in your silk dress shifted higher. "I made it better. You're welcome."

His eyes dipped, unapologetically, lingering just a breath too long before finding yours again. "Arrogant. I like that. Suits you."

"You should try it sometime. Oh wait, you already did."

He laughed then—a low, dangerous thing, like a drum roll before an explosion, like he was one second away from either kissing you or lighting a match to the room.

The city pulsed around you both, neon lights casting green and blue shadows across his chiseled jawline. He looked like sin dressed in couture. You were no saint either.

Everyone in Seoul knew your names. You were rivals in the art world. His edgy gallery, your provocative installations. He sold allure; you sold meaning. But when your eyes met across rooms, parties, exhibitions, there was always that electricity—that magnetic pull, like two stars in a tight orbit, constantly threatening to crash.

You hated how well he knew it.

"Tell me," he drawled, swirling the drink in his glass, "how does it feel to orbit me?"

You leaned in, letting your perfume mix with his expensive cologne. "You wish. But you’re just spinning because I make the world tilt."

It was always like this. Biting. Banter that scorched.

The penthouse in Cheongdam was glittering with Seoul’s elite. Models, influencers, art dealers, actors. A DJ spun something dark and bass-heavy. The walls were draped in crimson velvet, and champagne flowed like liquid gold.

You wore black silk and danger—a sinfully backless dress that clung to you like temptation itself, the slit climbing high up your thigh, a silent challenge. He wore midnight blue velvet, his signature arrogance stitched into every inch of fabric, from the open collar to the slow, deliberate way he sipped his whiskey.

When you walked in, every head turned, but his eyes locked on you like he’d been waiting all night. Calculated. Intense. Like a sniper choosing his shot.

"Did you dress like that to impress me or destroy me?" he asked, suddenly at your side, voice low enough to skim the shell of your ear. You could feel the heat from his body through the mere inches between you.

You sipped from your champagne flute, letting the bubbles glide across your tongue. Your smile curved slow and dangerous. "Why not both?"

He leaned closer until his breath warmed your neck, a whisper of scent—cologne, smoke, something darker. "You know this tension between us? It’s practically art."

You turned your head, and your lips almost brushed. Noses nearly touching. The energy between you buzzed, electric, unyielding.

"Too bad you're not the type to appreciate true art. Just things you can hang up and claim."

He gave a low chuckle, one hand slipping casually into the pocket of his tailored trousers. "You calling yourself a masterpiece, Cheonsa?"

Your eyes didn’t waver. "No," you said, voice low as a blade in silk. "A weapon."

A beat of silence passed. Then another. He licked his lower lip, as if imagining exactly how you'd wound him. And you knew—he would let you.

"God, I love a little blood in my art," he said finally, eyes burning.

You turned away with a flick of your wrist, but not before letting your fingers brush the back of his hand—barely there, a whisper. Just enough to promise more.

The conversation flared with every word, all sharp edges and coiled heat. He followed you through the crowd like a shadow stitched to your heels, his eyes never once breaking from your silhouette. Every step you took, he trailed—close, deliberate, like a storm that hadn't yet decided whether it would kiss or strike.

When you danced—hips swaying to the bass-heavy rhythm, your eyes locked on his over the rim of your glass—he didn’t blink. He leaned against the velvet-draped wall, watching with that predator stillness that made your skin spark. The room could have caught fire and he wouldn't have noticed. Not when you moved like that.

When he laughed with another woman, his fingers brushing the low back of a leggy actress, you didn’t flinch. But your retaliation was surgical. You crossed the floor like you owned it and let your touch graze the arm of a rival collector, whispered something in his ear that made him blush and nod like a schoolboy. You didn’t look back—but you felt it. The way Seung-Hyun’s jaw tensed, the shift in his posture. You were playing a game, and he knew it.

Then, just as you were about to disappear into the crowd, a voice purred behind you.

"Careful," Seung-Hyun said, his breath tickling your ear. "You're not the only one who knows how to make someone jealous."

You turned, lips inches from his. "Good. I’d hate to play alone."

He tilted his head, eyes dark and hungry. "Just admit it. You love when I chase."

You smirked, dragging a manicured nail down the lapel of his jacket. "No, Seung-Hyun. I love when you almost catch me."

And then you slipped away again—leaving behind your perfume and a grin that promised hell.

But eventually, you found each other again on a balcony overlooking the Seoul skyline.

He handed you another drink. "You keep running."

"You keep chasing."

"Maybe we like it this way."

You looked at him. Really looked.

And then, silence. The kind that throbs between two people right before something breaks.

He leaned against the railing, the Seoul skyline stretching behind him like a dream blurred by neon. You stood beside him, the cold air biting at your shoulders, your drink half-forgotten in your hand.

"You always run hot and cold," he said after a moment, not looking at you. "Like you want to dare me, but you're afraid of what happens if I call your bluff."

You turned toward him, letting your body angle close enough that your perfume tangled in the space between you. "I’m not afraid of you, Seung-Hyun. Never was."

His gaze snapped to yours. "Then why are we still dancing around this?"

You studied him—the subtle clench of his jaw, the flicker in his eyes that belied his calm. He was beautiful in the way a knife was beautiful. Elegant. Deadly.

"Maybe I like the build-up. The tension. The almost." You set your glass down on the ledge without breaking eye contact. "It’s like foreplay."

He stepped in then, slow and deliberate, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "So stop pretending."

The balcony shrank around you. His hand slid around your waist. Your breath hitched.

"Say it," he murmured.

You whispered, "I want you."

That was all it took. The air shifted. His mouth was on yours, hands tangled in your hair, hips pressing you against the railing like he couldn’t stand another second of restraint.

Somewhere in the distance, a car horn blared. The city went on without you. But in that moment, you were gravity. You were the storm.

And you knew exactly where the night was headed.

You ended up in the back of his car. Glass tinted. City lights streaking past in a blur of neon pinks and electric blue. The hum of the engine was nothing compared to the pulse thrumming between your bodies.

He slammed the door behind you, and before the driver could even glance in the rearview, a dark divider slid up with a mechanical hush. Privacy cloaked you both like smoke.

Seung-Hyun was on you before the first red light. His hands found your waist, dragging you across the seat until you straddled him, the silk of your dress bunching around your hips.

"You’re trouble," he growled, fingers slipping under your slip, warm palms gliding over bare skin.

You arched into him, lips brushing his, teasing. "And you’re addicted to it."

"Can’t argue with that." His mouth captured yours in a kiss that was all teeth and heat, his tongue sweeping past your lips like he was staking a claim. You matched him bite for bite, tugging his hair hard enough to make him hiss.

His hands roamed with purpose, cupping your ass, lifting you so your core pressed down against the hardness beneath his tailored pants. He dragged your dress higher until the fabric was nothing but a suggestion. "You think you’re in control," he rasped, his fingers finding the heat between your thighs, the wet proof of how long this tension had simmered.

You ground against his palm with a gasp. "I don’t need control. I have you."

The laugh he gave was guttural, low and wrecked. "Fuck, you drive me insane."

Clothes unraveled in hurried whispers. Buttons popped. Your panties slid off, forgotten. He fisted your hair, pulling your head back to kiss the column of your throat while his other hand gripped your hip like he was anchoring himself.

You rocked against him, rolling your hips in slow, grinding circles that had him cursing in Korean under his breath. "You’re a fucking menace," he whispered against your skin.

"Then ruin me, Seung-Hyun," you dared, nails dragging down his chest.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He shifted you over, pressing you against the seat. Leather squeaked beneath you, windows fogging up as heat filled the car. When he entered you, it wasn’t gentle. It was need—sharp, immediate, and unrelenting.

You cried out his name, clinging to him as he thrust deep, again and again, hitting you where it hurt in the most perfect way. Each motion was a challenge. Each gasp, a surrender. The rhythm of your bodies was urgent, primal—music set to war drums.

"Look at me," he ordered, gripping your chin as you tried to close your eyes. "Let me see what I do to you."

And you did. You met his gaze. What you saw there wasn’t just lust—it was history, obsession, hate, hunger, and something dangerously close to reverence.

You clenched around him, the wave crashing through you, and your moan was his name, drawn out and raw.

He followed, head falling to your shoulder as he gasped your name like a prayer.

Afterward, tangled and breathless, his hand brushed your thigh, lazy and possessive. "This doesn’t change anything."

You traced a finger down the hard line of his chest, nails light. "Of course not. We’re still enemies."

He smirked. "Enemies who fuck."

"Enemies who orbit," you corrected, voice honey-laced and satisfied.

And he kissed you again—slow this time, reverent. Like he knew this was just one revolution.

Because 360 doesn’t end. It just keeps turning.

challenge taglist: @szonyix6277 @aizshallnotbefound @keiraryan @sternilei

#bratsummerchallenge25 #bigbang #choi seunghyun #top x reader #bigbang x reader #choi seunghyun imagine #choi seunghyun x reader #choi seunghyun smut #top bigbang #top #t.o.p x reader #t.o.p bigbang

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tokiwarcube · 1 year ago

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Since it's getting hot out, I'd love to see how different members treat their s/o who's prone to (or just experienced) heat exhaustion after a long date at the beach or something! Nothing is more brutal than the sun!

Fun fact! When I first started this request, it was hitting beyond belief. 14 hours outside in the hot sun? Perfect fit. And then the day after I put pen to paper (or I suppose, fingertips to keyboard), the area I was working in experienced a freak storm. Anon what did you do to the SUN... Either way, rq below the cut! <3

Nathan Explosion

Liquid Death? Infinite darkness umbrella? Burning Hatred Gatorade? Sunscreen? Did you put on sunscreen? Nathan makes checklists habitually, and if nothing else, he is fantastic about reminding you to stay hydrated. He himself isn’t too good at drinking water, but when you’re at stake, suddenly he’s the number one advocate for hydration. Although in the event that you do get struck down by the overwhelming power of the Sun, he’s at a bit of a loss for what to do. He hates doctors, but it’s really the only thing he can think of to do beyond what he was already doing. He also hates taking orders, but as with most things in life, you are the exception to his rule — just let him know what to do, and you’ll have royalty treatment for as long as it takes.

Pickles the Drummer

His ass refuses to get in the sun as is (he burns far too easily, and let’s be real, most of the drugs he abuses makes him even less tolerant of the sun than most.) And he’s not great about drinking water either. (Vodka’s basically the same thing, right?) So chances are if you’re getting heat exhaustion, so is he. Which is a horrific situation to be in! So the two of you definitely have to look out for each other, making sure to take shade and water breaks often. Although in the event that you’ve both come down with it… well, the Klokateers take pretty damn good care of you.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Skwisgaar is another one who, frankly, hates the sunshine. He sees so reason to chase after sunbeams. He thinks beaches are fun, but honestly, he’s usually only there to get wasted on the sand, and maybe watch a sunset or two. He’s just as prone to heat exhaustion too, as he’s just not used to the heat. He burns like nobody’s business, and if he had it his way, he’d be living at a perpetual 60F, if not lower. But unlike Pickles, he actually knows how to manage it — neither of you will be falling victim to the Sun today! And it turns out that when he’s not complaining, he actually likes the beach after all! His long limbs and perfect golden hair make for quite a bit of fun in the open ocean… just make sure to wash the salt water out of his hair at the end of the day.

Toki Wartooth

Toki could live in the sunshine for the rest of his life and be as happy as a clam! Or I guess in this situation I think he’s a bit more akin to a cat, with how readily he’ll post up in the sunshine. For him, Summer is all about the rays, the long days running on sandy beaches, and plenty of colorful drinks and treats. Although quite frankly, he sucks at remembering everyone else’s heat tolerance. But he does, however, notice when you start slowing down, and takes action pretty fast so long as he knows what to do ahead of time. Water, gatorade, and cool wash-clothes are his go-to. Heat exhaustion is never fun, but at least you have a nice view when you rest your head in his lap at the end of the day. The cool washcloth pressed against your forehead brings a much-needed chill after a long, fun adventure on the beach, and while you can't say you're all too excited to have faced the wrath of the sun... you still had a fun time.

William Murderface

A southern boy himself, William is no stranger to the brutality of the Sun. He’s spent quite a few Summers under the sweltering heat, and while he won’t say he loves it, he certainly respects it. (He won’t say that, of course. He’s tried to take a handgun to the Sun a few times, which surprisingly, have yielded no results yet.) It’s basically second-nature to him to manage the effects of the heat before they ever even come on — good clothes, frequent water-breaks, etc. (He never orders water, nor does he carry it with him, and yet he always manages to end up with a bottle. He says water is for pussies, just before taking a sip.) And when he finds out that the Sun affects you a bit more than most? He’s very good at nonchalantly encouraging you to take care of yourself a bit. Nudging a bottle your way, looking for more shaded resting areas to set your stuff up in, etc.

#metalocalypse x reader #nathan explosion x reader #pickles the drummer x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #toki wartooth x reader #william murderface x reader #dethklok x reader #dethklok skwisgaar x reader #dethklok toki x reader #dethklok nathan x reader #dethklok pickles x reader #dethklok murderface x reader

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wynndigogh · 5 months ago

Text

A TMNT tale:

The Perfect Trap

Part 3: Damage Noticed Adjourn!

Warning: No Minors, 18+ ONLY

SYNOPSIS:

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles face a new threat when Baxter Stockman returns with a cunning plan and a deadly new weapon. As they battle his latest creations, the turtles realize their enemy is always one step ahead.

But the danger hits closer to home when Leonardo’s relationship with his girlfriend is put to the test, forcing him to balance his duty as leader with his heart.

With danger closing in from all sides, the turtles must uncover the truth behind Stockman's scheme before it destroys them and everything they hold dear.

But as secrets come to light, they learn that the stakes are higher than they ever imagined—and one of their own may be caught in the crossfire.

Read Part 1 Part 2

🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺🍻🍺

Raph and Donnie are sitting at a portable poker table with piles of monetary chips between them, while some very sour looking beat cops sit opposite of the towering turtles agitatedly fingering their small stacks of chips. Note to self, never play strip poker with those two.

In the kitchen area you see Mikey attempting to teach Vern how to juggle some discarded beer bottles, you don’t see that ending well, and at the main dining table is the Beer Pong match-up between Jones vs Leonardo.

You quirk a half smile watching him stand at the table, obviously analyzing the placement of the cups and working on his strategy. He's laser focused but still has an easy smile and snippet of conversation for all the other men hanging around waiting for the match up to begin. You are immensely glad that he's accepted, at least among this small gathering of people.

Leonardo feels your eyes on him, looking up from the table he sees you sitting where he left you, smiling contently at him. He gives a little lift of his brow to convey a sense of happy expectation...you both know Jones is going down.

Normally, Leonardo would decline to participate in the drinking games, but it is Casey’s special night. It would be inconsiderate to at least humor his friend while waiting for the next round of poker to start.

True to his word, Casey does try to get Leo “caught up” on drinking by insisting the stoic turtle down three beers prior to playing. The drunken fool insists it will put them on “an even playing field”.

Leonardo shakes his head with a silent chuckle, drunk Casey isn’t a smart Casey, if there is such a thing as a smart Casey. To a mutant with the body mass of a small vehicle, the diminutive volume of alcohol in the containers will be hardly enough to give Leonardo a buzz.

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he accepts the three bottles of golden liquid and chugs them. At least he will still be keeping his promise to his dad to take it easy on the alcohol. Well, that is what he hopes his dad was alluding to earlier.

The game starts with the blue leader insisting that the birthday boy go first. Casey lists heavily to one side, nearly toppling over, as he closes one eye to try and aim his ball just right.

"Good God," April groans, "I better go help him or he'll end up on the floor before the next round."

You can't hold back the laughter as she stands nearly cradling Casey, and assisting him throw the ball. Casey doesn’t know how lucky he is that April puts up with him.

Sipping your frosty soda, it is doing wonders for your nerves and the left over queasiness from somersaults over building gaps. A shudder runs through your shoulders at the memory. To top it all off, your turtle beau actually laughed at your squeals of terror. Oh, he's going to pay for that later.

To keep your sanity, and whatever refreshments you may be able to take in, you make up your mind to get a taxi home. Leo will probably try to talk you out of it, but you are done with flips over empty space for this evening. Suck it up, buttercup.

You are so engrossed in the game play and your inner thoughts that you do not notice that Master Splinter has taken a seat next you on the sectional sofa.

“How are you, my dear?”, the wizened ninja master inquires.

The unexpected voice so close to you has you choking on your soda. The acid of cold beverage burns your airway, causing your eyes to water and your voice to go hoarse, “Fine. *cough* Fine, I’m fine. Thank you. *cough* How are you this evening?”

“I am well”, he offers as his eyes you with concern, “I am quite enjoying this gathering. There is so much going on, so much to see.” His dark eyes are locked on yours; you swallow hard as you gaze back at him. Why does it feel like his wise eyes are burrowing into you?

You sit in silence as your mind races to think of a conversational reply that will seem natural and not at all guilty. Absentmindedly, you finger the fabric around your neck.

He takes a very deep breath; you watch as his cute little ears twitch almost in unison with the whiskers around his nose. You can’t help but think how adorable Leo’s dad is sometimes.

The old rat’s eyes turn soft. He reaches out his thin hands, which are deceptively strong, and gently pulls your fingers away from your neck. He lovingly cups your hand securely between his own, “I want to tell you I am honored that you are part of my family. It has been a long wait for just such an occasion.”

“Oh, ah, thank you”, you stammer, a little blindsided by the admission. A warm blush spreads across your cheeks and into your ears.

“Ah, pink! A much better color on you than green”, he hums in appreciation.

“While I am understandably fond of the color green,” he leans in, like you two are telling secrets, “it isn’t one that does your lovely face justice. Leonardo wasn’t careful with you on the way here, hm? I shall speak with him about treating you with greater care. He's carrying precious cargo.”, the sensei states, winking at you, and patting the back of your hand.

You begin to reply, to offer your thanks to the wise instructor, when the sounds of the party change.

The shoulder walkies on the couple of uniformed cops roar to life with a female dispatcher rattling off hard to catch details. Cell phones begin dinging or ringing among the commotion of chairs being quickly pushed back and everyone going on alert.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

"So, uh, what are we supposed to do again?"

Baxter Stockman curses under his breath but tries to retain some semblance of composure, "It's simple, you simpleton. You two are to go down to the docks and wreak havoc. Bust up the crates, throw them into the water, whatever you've got to do to get the cops called on you".

Bebop exchanges a look with Rocksteady before continuing his questions, "Uh...why do we want to be arrested?"

Stockman seethes, if only he didn't have to work with these two morons, but the level of destruction they could cause was exactly what he needed to get the turtles' attention.

"You aren't getting arrested, you are baiting the turtles in for the first phase of my plan."

---------------------------------

To be continued...

PART 4

HA, look at me, I remembered a tag request! Seriously, that's special @thelaundrybitch

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leo #tmnt leonardo #leonardo #tmnt bayverse #bayverse turtles #bayverse #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse leo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leonardo x reader

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atsadi-shenanigans · 8 months ago

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What Shall We Become 34 - Dominic Monaghan

Lizards have a distinct smell, turns out. Kinda dry and dusty, but also…mildewy? Or at least this overgrown cave lizard does. You focus on that as you drift in and out. The pebbly hide, not slimy at all, presses against your cheek as you come more and more into your own body, and you shift your focus to the movement of muscle underneath. Wonder if big boy here is more a komodo dragon, or more a dinosaur. It’s warm, whatever it is.

It’s too had to keep both eyes open. Especially with your head pounding so bad. You open the one any wider and it’s gonna pop right out.

Every drag of air into your lungs hurts. Cause you’re folded over the back of a lizard like a fucking saddle bag. Feet tied together so tight all you feel is a scorching ache up your shins. Your knee joints is filled with ground glass. Hands still bound and every step and shift of that lizard sends shooting pain blasting up your arms.

They ain’t untied you. Didn’t even loosen the ropes. Your fingers is gonna die and drop off and them bitches called you a slave but slaves need hands to work.

They’re gonna kill you. Soon as they figure out how to get past the fucking brainworm.

Your bladder wakes up. And you realize you feel air on your ass crack. Cloth draped over your legs, but not between. A skirt? Your memories is shredded meat, but one bubbles to the surface: something breaking during the pain and hot liquid on your legs.

You pissed yourself at some point.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to bury your face against the rough hide.

They must’a stripped your pants and them panties (Astarion made that for you and now it’s gone, too). Probably so you don’t smear on and stink up the side of the lizard.

You twist your head enough to spot the actual saddlebag next to your head. Recognize the spider design worked into the leather.

Bitch Queen sits perched in that saddle, back so straight you could use her as a leveler at a construction site. You don’t say nothing. Stay still and quiet—don’t draw attention, give them nothing—but soon, your bladder don’t give you any option. And you say, in Common (sweet jesus you miss Gale), “Piss.”

They do stop. Untie your feet and drag you off to the side. Your toes don’t work no more. Feet won’t take your weight. Skinny stands there over you as you hobble on your screaming knees. He makes no move to help (not that you was expecting it). Your hands don’t work enough to hike up the wrap they tied around your hips, and eventually, Skinny scoffs and leans down and wrenches it up so hard you almost fall.

You try not to think. At all. Certainly not about the wet on your own thighs.

You want this to be over. Want all of this to go away. But it don’t. It just drags on minute by minute, second by second, and you got to be here for every part of it.

Astarion got away, at least. He’s out there, somewhere. You could reach out. Could check. Know for sure if he left you. He said he would after the river. He’d save himself. Leave you to torture and death. And as Skinny hauls you back, lifts you onto the lizard again and sets to work trying your feet back together (the pain takes the air outta your lungs), you almost reach for the group chat.

But you don’t. You can’t.

Too much of a coward. Too much a wounded animal, trying to slink to its den and lick the gaping wound shut.

Off y’all go again, and you’re stuck in the present, in your body, an unwilling passenger to all of it.

***

You know y’all’ve stopped for the day when hands yank you off. You startle, and then hit the ground.

They leave you where you fell. Lead the lizard off and Skinny pulls some kinda something outta his pack to feed the big boy, murmuring and stroking its pointy muzzle as it chomps. Bitch Queen and Short King Shithouse talk in a huddle to the side as the others lay out bedrolls and distribute rations.

They do not give you food. They do drive a stake into the ground, produce a leather cord, and tie your bound, screaming feet to that. Aside from that, they leave you be. They do not speak to you, do not sink spectral claws into your mind, and they don’t give you water.

You’re gonna die. The knowledge seeps into you, lying there in the dim light of surrounding mushrooms. People feed prisoners they intend to keep alive. Their disregard speaks for itself. You’re nothing but cargo to them. A piece of mail to take back and open up and then discard. You can only watch as they crunch and slurp through their food and drink. Notice Skinny sitting off by himself. The others ain’t really taking to him. Haven’t the whole time you been awake enough to register that. Some kinda pecking order?

And then he notices you watching. Cocks his head and looks to the huddled group of women. Stands.

You tense.

He comes over. Stops, standing over you. Looks down a second, and then pulls out his water skin and crouches down.

“Drink?” he says in Common.

Gotta be a trick. You look from the water skin to him and back. His face is blank, neutral. Your tongue sticks to your mouth, so dried out it feels it’s gonna crack like a slug under a sprinkling of salt. But Skinny just crouches there, waiting. It probably wouldn’t help them if you keeled over of dehydration? Which means y’all have to be at least another day to wherever they’re taking you?

You tentatively open your mouth.

Water gushes over your face. You try to twist away, hacking and sputtering, but he only dumps more, following you. Water sloshes up your nose, catches on an inhale and then you’re really choking. Coughing and gagging shit up. Can’t even thrash with half your body rigid with pain. Can only lie there and pant, eyes and nose streaming.

Then you manage to glance up. Catch a flash of movement in the dim light. Pain crunches into your face. His boot. White agony bursts through your skull, boils your brains. You lose a moment or three, and come to, choking again. Not on water or snot, this time. It’s blood.

Bitch Queen says something, voice cracking like a whip. The blur that is Skinny backs away and folds into a bow. One of the women nearby shakes her head.

Pretty sure your nose is broken. Pretty sure your front teeth might be cracked. Your eyes water so bad that you lose sight of everything else but dim movement. Can only roll yourself to your side—a human can drown in, what, a couple teaspoons? You remember enough of basic first aid to know the recovery position.

They leave you as you lie there in torment. You’re there a long while. Or maybe not. Can’t tell. Everything is hurt and cold. You’re alone. Always, always alone. Even when you had Uncle Randy and your cousins, you was alone. Because that’s what you know. All you know. And despite ten fucking years and counselors and therapy and medication, you don’t know how else to be when it comes down to it.

You don’t trust how else to be. Because it always ends in something like this.

You’re gonna die. Hurting. Alone. That tiny ember in you will try, as it tries now, to stay lit. But you always known that someday, something would come along and finally snuff it out. It won’t up and just let you die—you’ll keep on breathing to the end. You’ll even marginally pay attention, keep an eye out, just in case. But someday, and someday soon it seems, it’s gonna—

The drow are quiet. Not a peep. Not a breath. They’re completely still, until you catch the flutter of hand movements. Are they signing? Hard to tell in the dark with your eyes streaming.

They’re all staring intently in the same direction, though. You try to wriggle yourself enough to follow, but your body’s too fucked up. It gives out and you drop back, panting.

And that’s when you feel it. Shift to press the side of your face to the ground like some “good guy Indian guide” from some dumbshit western.

A rumble. Steady and low, it shivers through the ground.

Somebody says something. Gear rustles.

The rumble don’t change pitch or frequency. It’s kinda…familiar? You blow a blood bubble outta your nostril and try to pop your ears…

That’s a fucking birdshark. The fuck is another goddamn fucking birdshark doing out here? And is it…it’s getting louder.

Oh hot fuck. It’s getting closer. Coming right towards this camp. Why in the sweet, flying fuck—

A presence taps at your mind. It feels like bare feet on cold sand laced with sharp rocks just beneath the surface. Silver bright, like the flash of a trout in the murky depths. A hint of dark humor like licorice flavoring in a strong drink.

You crack open the door to your mind. Just a little. Still trying to keep your wibbling guts from spilling into the connection.

And there he is.

Something hisses. Thwips. A drow rasps horrifyingly and stumbles. One of the women clutches her throat. There’s something wrong with it, with the shape…

Oh. Yeah. An arrow would do that.

Drow draw knives and curved short swords. The rumble gets louder and louder, and Bitch Queen finally breaks the silence to snap an order.

A flash in the dark. Something pale. Something fucking fast erupts out of the shadows. Tumbles into a roll as several arrows hiss over his head. He comes up in a crouch, bow already drawn.

He releases. Catches Skinny, standing in the back, right in the thigh.

“Hello, darling!” he says in Chondathan. And then, in your mind: it’s his turn, now.

Which is when the birdshark explodes outta the ground just behind him.

#what shall we become #these two shitheads #astarion fic #tavstarion #lost in a cave #the night is dark and full of terrors #but fic persists and so do I

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zapsoda · 1 month ago

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my review of the molt effect:

i think its worth reading if youre into mlp grimdark stuff. pretty good concept, good angst, the art is excellent. its pretty cliched however, and the writing is not great imo, but i like what its trying to do.

my #1 critique is the fact that it is a comic uploaded in video format. why would you do that. on both tiktok and instagram, the platforms on which it was posted, you can share multiple images in a specific order with audio. you did not have to make it a video. that made it 10x harder to read especially because you cant pause reels on instagram . or maybe some people can but only the same bourgeois elite who can post more than 10 images on that god forsaken app. impossible for me to say as a representative of the common man.

writing-wise, i do struggle with the inciting incident. it seems completely implausible to me that no pony or other creature would know what happens when something as simple as consuming liquid that was steeped with a molting dragons scale occurred. i should think that at this point equestria would have a pretty good understanding of the property of dragons scales. how could this possibly be the first time this has happened.

this could have been explained away through some other aspect of the story, like if it was a nightmare or some shit like that, then it would make sense that such an absurd thing would happen. there are other, probably better potential ideas this is just the only one thats coming to mind for me right now. there are even way you could spin the dream aspect so that it doesnt diminish from the overall horror.

i dont understand plot or pacing so i dont have anything to say about that, but i do have some personal thoughts about the body of the work that might not reflect on its inherent quality. i think i would have preferred if more time was spent on the beginning of the story. the molting is like the core of the story but it happens in the span of one chapter and then we move on. i think drawing that out would have been beneficial overall, adding suspense, increasing the stakes, building the audiences empathy for the situation.

i also feel like what the 'molting' does is poorly defined. i think there is value in leaving stuff unknown but we *see* so much of these creatures that i think it doesnt work here. either we should know much less or much more about them, and since the creator has clearly put so much thought into their designs, i think the latter option is probably better. knowing more would also add to the horror and fuel the audience (and the characters) imaginations. i have gotta know how this shit spreads. and i wanna know why they look like discord! and why this is what happens when they drink dragon scale tea. and why it can then be spread just from pony to pony contact

we just kind of immediately jump from twilight turning into a scary monster to the middle of the apocalypse and i feel like thats really unsatisfying. in a story like this, i feel like you want to show more of that gradual decline in structure and normalcy. this also would help the audience feel more for the characters. the fact that we just skip to the princesses being dead is insane to me.

its even more unsatisfying, i think, that the ponies know literally nothing about whats happening. we dont even get to hear their theories :-((( furthermore, what the hell have the ponies been doing the last 5 days? why did they only just think to go to the everfree forest? what has spike been doing all this time?

i have such mixed thoughts on the zecora bit. tbh i think her canonical rhyming quirk is a little questionable, idk if i would preserve it in fanworks personally, but im not gonna hold that against the creator. i like her mimicking her regular self. i get why shes a mantis but that really doesnt work for me personally. mantises arent scary theyre just silly bugs.

i also looooooove the discord inclusion i love discord <33333 but how the hell does he know whats going on. how does he know???? nopony else knows. discords just some goofy guy. and fluttershys right where the hell has he been. and how does he have the power to... erase spike from existence and turn back time? i dont remember him being able to do that in the show.... also strange that he jsut does it without explaining it to spike that doesnt seem right to me. i know why spike would say yes without thinking but .. discord? he feels bad for spike i think hed at least want to warn him? unless he wants to spare him the pain of knowing???? idk. i do like that thats what happens though i like the ending <33333333333.

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realmyths · 3 months ago

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@itsncthingpersonal continued from here

"Right! We're aces..." Rudy whispered back, flashing her a confident smile that failed to reach his eyes. Thankfully, they were covered by dark lenses so his companion was blissfully unaware, but the inward pull of his brows might have been a clue to his concern. "...but we'll just stay here for a tick, yeah?" Crouched low behind the side of a black van, the gravel was harsh beneath them and every little movement caused many tiny stones to shift and make noise. If he had a set of working lungs, his breath would have been laboured. Perks of being dead! The vampire had his right hand tightly curled around the handle of his baseball bat, whereas the left was soft and reassuring upon Melike's shoulder. Now was not the time for conversation when being overheard could cost them their lives. The night had been chill so far. A catch-up in a downtown diner; a setting that was more about ambience than food that couldn't be consumed. Just two vampires taking time out of the chaos of their individual lives to wind down, but nothing was ever truly that simple. Fate had other ideas, and boy, was she unfair about it tonight. Honestly, how were they supposed to know that this dive was run by a family of hunters? It was bloody typical. Their major mistake was skipping on ordering something, a basic starter or drink, to make them appear normal and blend in with the rest of the customers. Unbeknownst to them, the staff were becoming increasingly suspicious the more time they sat there without requesting a meal. It took one of them to investigate further to confirm their theory.

Rudy had been targeted first. As one of the sons came over to their booth for the third time, he was carrying a jug of water. It was clear that he was going to offer it and Rudy sighed in annoyance, opening his mouth to refuse once more. But a sharp, searing pain exploded across his left thigh as the liquid was poured over it, causing the skin underneath to smoke. It was holy water. Despite how excruciating it was, the vampire managed to bite down on his bottom lip to muffle an agonised shout. Then everything happened in a flash. As the son turned his attention to Melike with the intention of splashing her, Rudy jumped up and smacked the jug out of his hand and across the floor, before forcefully pushing the man backwards. Some got on his ankle in the aftermath, but his main focus was grabbing Melike by her arm and hightailing it out of there before they were trapped inside.

Which is how they found themselves hiding between customer cars in the space behind the establishment. Rudy had bitten down on his baseball bat once they found a good spot, screaming into the wood in a bid to get it out of his system. Fuck, fuck... Fuckity-fuck! His left thigh and ankle had been on fire, and it took a while to finally subside. But now they were trying to keep quiet, avoiding the detection of some hunters who followed them outside. He could hear a bunch of boots crunching across gravel somewhere nearby, and he settled into a better stance as he readied himself to fight if needs be.

This hadn't been how Melike had expected the night to go. A catch up with a vampire friend had all gone terribly wrong. And now, here they are, hiding from hunters. Rudy's confident smile is not contagious. Melike wishes she shared his confidence, but she's not so certain. What if they get caught? Their hiding place is hardly the best. Shouldn't they be running? Surely, they can outrun humans, even hunters. Melike would hate to be staked in her prime.

It has taken her centuries, after all, to get something resembling confident. And she still has her issues, but she's now confident enough that everyone does. There are still things she doesn't know for sure. Like why she's so uninterested in dating men. Other people are a different story. But anyone who's a man just doesn't appeal to her. And sure, Melike's heard of gay people and lesbians. But being one? Well, that would surprise her more than when she had first realized she was a vampire.

Or why she does feel like a woman at times, but also feels like her gender is more complex than that. She's not a man either, for sure. But something else. Something more...expansive. More out of the ordinary. And something that even Melike herself can't quite put her finger on. She's heard the term nonbinary before. But does it apply to her? That is what she doesn't know.

Still, Melike is closer to self-actualization than she's ever been. So it would be a shame for her to die now. So she simply nods at Rudy's words, when he suggests they stay here.

Melike would so hate to fight with the hunters, but as Rudy readies himself, so does Melike. Not one to be outdone, even by a friend. And always happy to defend herself and others. She puts her hair into a ponytail, so it's out of the way in any possible fights. And she mentally prepares herself to give the hunters the biggest fight of their lives.

She looks at Rudy, then, her expression one of resolve. This is not how she had expected the night to go. But Rudy had saved her, once he had gotten splashed with the holy water. As a result of his maneuvering, it hadn't even touched Melike. And for that she is grateful. She will do her best to defend him, too. And despite appearances, Melike can put up one hell of a fight if necessary.

#itsncthingpersonal #convo #with that poison bottle you'll be free (melike v2.)#spite's as good a reason to take his power (c: melike soydan.)#made myself mythical tried to be real (ic.)

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loosesodamarble · 1 year ago

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Ice Cream, and when it Melts

Summary: The Crimson Lion Kings are faced with a peculiar problem, which is especially annoying in the summer. General: humor Word count: ~1000 A/N: Oneshot 4/6 for @/thoughtfullyrainynightmare!

..........

Leopold pushed the doors to Fuegoleon’s office open with one hand. He stepped in, partially hunched over and with a glassy look in his eyes. Raising his head just enough to have his brother in his line of sight, Leopold muttered a weak, “Big brother… It’s terrible…”

“These files are old enough to be sent to—” Fuegoleon paused in speaking to Randall when he noticed Leopold in the doorway. “Leopold, what’s—?” He stopped again when he saw what was in his younger brother’s hand. “What on earth?”

An ice cream carton was gripped in Leopold’s hand. The lid was off, giving a view of the contents: a thick, soupy liquid that filled only about half of the tub. In other words, completely melted ice cream.

“Big brother, this is the ninth time this has happened…” Leopold mumbled, his dejected gaze on the melted confection. “I first thought that the freezer was broken but then I realized that the ice box was still full of ice and the frozen meats weren’t thawed…”

“So someone is tampering with only the ice cream,” Fuegoleon concluded. He touched his chin and his brow furrowed. “What a highly specific mischief we’re faced with.”

“I’ll go check out the kitchen and see if anyone saw anything,” Randall said then jogged out.

Leopold raised his open hand and clenched it. His lips pulled back in a solemn grimace. With a shaky breath, Leopold said, “To think, one of our squad members would stoop so low.”

“Indeed. These incidents are far too childish in nature for anyone in our squad. Not even the new recruits are so immature and brazen. Or at least, that’s what I’d like to believe,” Fuegoleon mused aloud. He then patted Leopold’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Leopold. Was this the only one affected?”

“No. All of them were partially eaten and totally melted through.” Leopold hung his head and groaned. “I don’t even know how that would happen! I mean how does a whole tub of ice cream melt while… everything else… doesn…t…”

Fuegoleon noticed Leopold’s downward gaze was on his right arm. He had a feeling that Leopold hadn’t intentionally come to pin the blame on him. His younger brother was brash at heart but he’d grown more thoughtful in recent months. Likely, Leopold’s frustration with the repeated ice cream meltings had come to a head and his feelings were searching for an outlet. And Fuegoleon’s flame limb happened to be there.

“Leopold, think twice before you consider accusing me of anything,” Fuegoleon stated while crossing his arms. “You know as well as I do that these flames don’t truly burn unless I will them to.” He lifted his nose high. “Besides, I prefer sorbet.”

“Hrrm, that’s true.” Leopold groaned. “My bad, big brother.”

“We still mustn’t let whoever is doing this continue getting away with it. Summer is upon us and the squad should be able to treat themselves to a cold confection after working in such heat.”

Fuegoleon and Leopold locked eyes for a moment before nodding.

…..

The next evening, a new batch of ice cream was stocked in the freezer. Fuegoleon and Leopold decided to hide themselves in the squad base’s kitchen. Fuegoleon squeezed himself into a closet where cooking ware was stored on the shelves. Leopold curled himself into a cupboard under the counter. Both made sure the freezer was in their sights.

It was time to watch and wait for whoever was to blame.

They waited. And waited. Waited. Waited. Waited… waited… w…a…i…t…e…d…

How long had it been? Fuegoleon could only guess it had been multiple hours.

Yet no one, nothing, had turned up. It was odd. They’d told everyone about the new stock of ice cream while also keeping their stake out secret.

Fuegoleon fought to keep his eyes open and his mind alert. He couldn’t risk falling asleep, well aware of the fact that he was a heavier sleeper compared to all his relatives.

Fwsshhh!

A sensation like a breeze rushing past Fuegoleon snapped him to attention.

No. There’s more to it than that… Fuegoleon thought to himself. Something was drawn out of me, like air from my lungs. But it’s my magic. I know this feeling.

His stomach began to sink as he nudged the pieces closer together in his mind. Specific items being melted. No one showing up for hours on end. And the sensation of mana being drawn from Fuegoleon himself.

That’s when something glowing a vibrant shade of orange darted across the floor and to the freezer.

Gods’ damnation… Salamander!

The freezer door creaked open. Not a second after, Fuegoleon let the closet door swing open and he heard Leopold leap from his spot. With a larger field of vision, Fuegoleon saw the Great Spirit of Fire—taking on the size of a house cat—perched on a freezer shelf and shock-still. Leopold stood with his jaw dropped at the revelation.

“It was you?!”

Fuegoleon walked over and scooped Salamander in his arms. He stared at his spirit companion with unwavering and stern eyes.

Salamander opened its mouth and let out a sound that was a mix of reptilian trills and the crackling of a fire. Its tail curled up, as if shy.

Its feelings poured into Fuegoleon. Petulance at being caught. Fascination with the dessert called ice cream, something it’d never seen before. Guilt for being unable to control its urges.

For a spirit as ancient as magic itself, there was a child-like innocence to Salamander…

“My friend…” Fuegoleon sighed. “In the future, do ask. And don’t over indulge yourself.”

Salamander huffed out a cloud of embers in reply. Fuegoleon shook his head and stroked a hand down Salamander’s back.

“I didn’t even know Salamander could eat!” Leopold laughed, pacing the room. “And a fire spirit like an icy treat? Who would’ve thought?”

#black clover #black clover fanfic #fuegoleon vermillion #leopold vermillion #salamander #gift fic #wifey laura ❤️‍🔥

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sokowachi · 5 months ago

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Staking is another effortless way I earn from STON.fi. But unlike standard staking models that only offer yield, STON staking comes with additional advantages.

Here’s what I gain:

🔹 ARKENSTON NFT – A soulbound NFT permanently linked to my wallet. This will serve as an exclusive membership pass for STON.fi’s upcoming DAO governance system.

🔹 GEMSTON token – A community-driven token distributed upon staking, with future value tied to STON.fi’s ecosystem.

Instead of simply earning APY on my staked tokens, I also get governance rights and early access to upcoming features.

3️⃣ Farming for High-Yield Rewards

For even greater returns, I participate in farming on STON.fi. This method allows me to earn additional rewards on top of my liquidity provision.

How does it work

🔹 Add liquidity to a farming pair.

🔹 Receive LP tokens automatically.

🔹 Stake LP tokens in the farm.

🔹 Earn rewards in real-time, every few seconds.

Current high-APR farms on STON.fi:

🔥 POE/TON → Over 999% APR

🔥 TADA/TON → 585% APR

🔥 WOOF/TON → 337% APR

STON/USDT farming has also been extended and boosted, with an extra 10,000 STON (~$35,000) in rewards. Unlike other platforms, STON.fi farming has no LP token lock-up, which makes it more flexible.

4️⃣ Earning from STON.fi Contests

Beyond liquidity provision, staking, and farming, STON.fi offers frequent contests that allow users to earn extra STON rewards.

A great example is the Infographics Contest, which recently had a $1,500 prize pool. These contests reward community engagement, making it possible to earn without financial investment.

For content creators, designers, and community builders, these competitions are an easy way to stack STON tokens without market risks.

Final Thoughts

The best part about earning on STON.fi is the simplicity. There’s no need for advanced trading strategies or market timing—just smart allocation of assets into passive income streams.

🔹 Liquidity provision gives steady returns with built-in loss protection.

🔹 Staking STON provides access to exclusive perks and future governance.

🔹 Farming tokens maximizes returns with high APRs.

🔹 Community contests offer extra earning opportunities.

By combining these methods, I’ve built a reliable income stream without the stress of day trading.

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dijacrypt · 5 months ago

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STON.fi: A Smarter Way to Grow Your Crypto Holdings

Passive income in crypto is no longer just a concept—it’s a strategy that smart investors are using to maximize their earnings. While many traders focus solely on buying and selling, there’s a hidden opportunity that goes beyond price speculation: farming.

STON.fi offers one of the easiest and most efficient ways to put your assets to work and earn rewards without active trading. This article breaks down what farming is, how STON.fi simplifies the process, and why you should be paying attention.

What Is Crypto Farming and Why Does It Matter?

Crypto farming is a way to earn passive income by providing liquidity to a decentralized exchange (DEX). Instead of just holding assets in your wallet, you deposit them into liquidity pools where they facilitate smooth trading. In return, you earn a share of transaction fees and additional incentives.

STON.fi takes this concept and refines it. With a simple and user-friendly interface, it allows both beginners and experienced users to stake liquidity and earn from high-reward farming pools.

How STON.fi Makes Farming Effortless

STON.fi is built on The Open Network (TON), which means transactions are fast, low-cost, and efficient. But beyond its blockchain advantage, the platform itself is designed to make farming as straightforward as possible.

Key Features That Set STON.fi Apart:

Seamless Liquidity Provision – Stake your tokens in liquidity pools and start earning immediately.

High Farming Rewards – Competitive incentives that outperform traditional staking.

No Hidden Fees – Transparent earnings with no surprises.

Flexible Staking Options – Some pools allow withdrawals anytime, while others offer higher returns for longer commitments.

Unlike platforms that require complex setups and high gas fees, STON.fi is cost-efficient and easy to navigate.

STON.fi Farming Pools & Earning Potential

STON.fi regularly updates its farming pools to offer diverse earning opportunities. Here are some of the current options:

🔹 JETTON/USDt Farm

Total Rewards: 22,500 JETTON (~$6,000)

Lock-up: 15 days

Best for: GameFi enthusiasts

🔹 hTON/TON Farm

Total Rewards: 30,866 HPO (~$777)

No Lock-up Period

Best for: TON holders looking for extra gains

🔹 HPO/hTON Farm

Total Rewards: 61,733 HPO (~$1,600)

No Lock-up Period

Best for: Hipo token holders

🔹 TON/uTON Farm

Total Rewards: 411 STON + 345 uTON (~$3,700)

No Lock-up Period

Best for: Users wanting dual-token rewards

Each of these pools allows participants to earn rewards based on their contribution to the liquidity pool. By simply staking assets, you generate passive income without having to monitor the market daily.

How to Start Farming on STON.fi

Farming on STON.fi is designed to be quick and beginner-friendly. Follow these steps:

1️⃣ Choose a Farming Pool – Select a pool based on the assets you hold and the rewards you prefer.

2️⃣ Provide Liquidity – Deposit equal amounts of two tokens into the selected liquidity pool.

3️⃣ Stake Your LP Tokens – Once you add liquidity, you’ll receive LP tokens. Stake these to start farming rewards.

4️⃣ Claim Your Earnings – Rewards accumulate over time and can be withdrawn anytime, depending on the pool.

This entire process is done on-chain and fully decentralized, ensuring security and full control over your funds.

Why Farming is a Smarter Crypto Strategy

Most crypto investors rely on price movements to make profits. Farming flips that mindset—instead of waiting for tokens to increase in value, you earn continuously by supporting the ecosystem.

Here’s why farming makes sense:

✔️ Passive Income – Earn rewards without needing to trade.

✔️ Portfolio Growth – Your assets work for you, rather than staying idle.

✔️ Compounding Effect – Reinvesting earnings boosts overall gains.

✔️ Reduced Market Risk – Unlike trading, farming provides stable and predictable returns.

STON.fi’s model ensures that you earn while holding, making it a low-maintenance strategy for consistent income.

STON.fi is more than just another DEX—it’s a gateway to passive earnings in the TON ecosystem. By providing liquidity and farming tokens, users can generate sustainable rewards without dealing with market volatility.

For those looking to diversify their crypto strategy and earn effortlessly, STON.fi offers one of the most rewarding solutions in DeFi today.

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prestigebfs · 6 days ago

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Benefits of Investing in Cryptocurrency: Why Crypto Is Still Worth It in 2025

Cryptoocurrency has evolved from a speculative asset into a mainstream investment option, attracting retail traders, institutional investors, and financial innovators. As we step deeper into the digital age, more people are asking:

“What are the benefits of investing in cryptocurrency?”

🚀 1. High Return Potential

Cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin (BTC), Ethereum (ETH), and emerging altcoins have shown the ability to generate significant returns — sometimes outpacing stocks, bonds, and traditional investments.

Example:

Bitcoin grew from $5,000 in March 2020 to over $65,000 in 2021.

Ethereum delivered over 400% returns in 2020 alone.

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🔐 2. Decentralization and Transparency

Cryptocurrencies operate on decentralized blockchain technology, which eliminates the need for banks or intermediaries. This provides:

Transparency through public ledgers

Security through encryption

Peer-to-peer transactions with lower fees

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🌎 3. Global Accessibility and Inclusion

Unlike traditional financial systems, crypto is borderless and inclusive. Anyone with a smartphone and internet can:

Create a digital wallet

Send/receive funds globally

Access DeFi platforms and crypto banks

This is especially helpful in underbanked or unstable economies.

🛡️ 4. Hedge Against Inflation

With rising concerns over fiat currency devaluation and inflation, cryptocurrencies — particularly Bitcoin — are seen as a hedge due to:

Limited supply (e.g., Bitcoin’s 21 million cap)

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📈 5. Portfolio Diversification

Adding digital assets can improve your portfolio by:

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Even allocating 2%–5% of your portfolio to crypto can enhance long-term performance.

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💡 6. 24/7 Market Access

Unlike stock markets that close on weekends or holidays, the crypto market operates 24/7. This allows:

Real-time trading

Greater liquidity

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🧠 7. Early Adoption of the Future of Finance

Investing in cryptocurrency means you're participating in Web3, NFTs, DeFi, metaverse, and tokenized assets — key components of the next financial revolution.

By getting in early, investors position themselves for:

Early-stage growth

Technological upside

Long-term wealth building

🪙 8. Passive Income Opportunities

With crypto, you can earn even without trading through:

Staking rewards

Yield farming

Crypto lending

Liquidity pools

This turns crypto into a passive income asset, much like dividend stocks or real estate.

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⚖️ Risks to Consider

While the benefits are compelling, crypto investing also comes with risks:

High price volatility

Regulatory uncertainty

Scams and cyber threats

Tip: Use reputable exchanges, cold wallets, and only invest what you can afford to lose.

✅ Final Thoughts

The benefits of investing in cryptocurrency go far beyond hype. From high returns and decentralized finance to inflation protection and global accessibility, crypto offers powerful advantages for modern investors.

As adoption continues to rise in 2025, now may be the time to consider adding digital assets to your investment strategy — wisely and responsibly.

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downwiththeficness · 8 months ago

Text

The Usurper-Chapter Twenty Two

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~4,100

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

Start at the Beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Read on AO3 Masterlist

Seth dropped into the booth opposite Lilah, “Let’s take a field trip.”

She looked up from the sandwich she was eating, “You want to take a field trip?”

He rested his forearms on the table between them, “Yeah. We’re just sitting around, waiting for this list to come out. Figure we can pull a small job in the meantime, work out the bugs in our operation before we do the one that matters.”

It wasn’t a bad idea. The three of them were new to each other and a dry run would give them an opportunity to learn each other’s rhythms. How they liked to prepare. How they reacted under stress. Lilah set the sandwich down and wiped her hands with a napkin, saying, “Alright. You got something in mind? Some local bank with a little too much liquid cash on site?”

There was a flash of something like approval in Seth’s expression, “Not quite. Couple hours East of here is a casino.”

“You want to knock over a casino?”

“Sort of. They got a high stakes poker game comin’ up tomorrow night and there’ll be an influx of cash. Most of the players are local businessmen with too much money and not enough sense. The house will win more than they will.”

“You want to knock over a casino?” Lilah repeated.

“Let me finish,” Seth shot back. “Now, this kind of game is a regular event. Quarterly, right before their finances close. They count the money on site, then load it into armored trucks and take it to the bank.”

“You want to hit the trucks?”

His eyes narrowed, “You gonna let me fucking finish?”

She held up her hands, “Alright. Please go on.”

“Right. So, The weak point, as you’ve already pointed out, is the car. We don’t have the firepower to take one of those down and the drivers will be packing heat. Which leaves us with the slightly stronger weak point of the cash counting.” Here, he paused, as if Lilah might interject again. She pointedly took a big bite out of her sandwich and waited. “Its done in a back room, totally secure. Our entry point has to be between the poker table and that room. We catch the cash between those two points and walk out the side door.”

Lilah stared at him, “I assume Richie has already pulled the blueprints.”

“He has.”

“And, I’m also assuming the side door leads right into the administrative wing of the casino.”

“It does.”

“How many staff?”

“Thirteen.”

“Too small. We’ll be noticed.”

“Way ahead of you.”

“Housekeeping?”

“Bingo.”

Lilah sighed, “Too complicated.”

Seth was taken aback, “What?”

“Its too complicated. Housekeeping is screened just as heavily as their dealers. Everyone has a card key and all the doors have locks. We’ll have to fake a key, fake an employee code, and hope that no one notices the new janitor. If you gave me six months I could do it. Twenty four hours? Impossible.”

He looked particularly put out, “What do you suggest?”

She smiled, “We use the oldest trick in the book when it comes to a card game. We bluff.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” Lilah drawled, “that you are going to play that game while Richie and I hit the vault.”

Seth peered at her, “You want to hit the vault?”

“Yes. They’ll be so focused on this new asshole trying to win the high stakes game that they won’t even look in another direction.”

A silence fell between them while Seth contemplated her idea. Lilah made use of it by finishing her sandwich. Eventually, he ran a hand over his chin and nodded, “It could work. The vault is on the other side of the casino.”

“I’ve heard Richie is good with safes. How would he do with the one at this joint?”

Seth smiled and it looked like mischief, “He’s already researching it.”

“Good man. How much is the entry fee?”

“About twenty five thousand.”

Lilah whistled, “Pretty steep.”

“We got capital. Those trucks for Brasa aren’t always carrying...supplies.”

She nodded, “Okay. We got a plan. I’ll talk to Richie. Figure out the specifics for our side.” A pause, “You any good at poker?”

“Above average.”

“You’ve got to be better than that. They need to think you’re a plant, someone coming in from the outside to take these guys for all their worth—for all the casino’s worth.”

It was an interesting problem. There was no way Seth was going to gain mastery of poker in the time frame they had and teaching him to count cards was surefire way to get him kicked out before she and Richie could get the goods. Her head tilted to the side...unless she didn’t have to teach him to count.

“They got a tech shop around here? Someplace I could guy comms and hidden camera?”

Seth shook his head, “Not for miles. Besides, they’re going to frisk me when I get there.”

“I know. I’ll be looking for something particular.”

He seemed to take her explanation for what it was, “I know a guy.”

“Text me the address,” Lilah said, rising. “I’m gonna check in with Richie and then I’ll head out to get what we need.” She hesitated, “I don’t have any cash on hand. Everything I have is locked up in my accounts and I can’t...access them right now.”

Lilah wasn’t stupid. She knew the second she touched one of her accounts, Mr. Pickerelle would be on her ass like flies on shit. There were enough moving parts to her situation and she didn’t need the additional complication of an asshole with an ax to grind on top of it.

“I’m not worried about the money,” Seth replied easily. “Let me know how much you need and I’ll leave it at the bar for you.”

She fought to keep her gratitude from her expression, “It’ll be nearly fifty k.”

He didn’t even hesitate, “Done. See you later.”

“Where are you going?”

“Doin’ a job tomorrow. Gonna have a few drinks while I can.”

Lilah watched him turn and leave the bar, feeling vaguely confused. There was a shit ton of liquor he could drink for free right here. Why would he go anywhere else? She gavea mental shrug. Where he went and what he did when he wasn’t working on the job wasn’t any of her business. Lilah had other things to think about. She finished her sandwich and threw her trash away before heading down the hall.

Richie was sitting in the bar’s office, hunched over a laptop. One hand was using a wireless mouse to scroll while the other jotted notes down on a pad. The TV was on. A man opened up a package to reveal a yellow and red knitted hat that he proudly tugged onto his head.

Lilah smiled, “You a Browncoat?”

He looked up, brows raised. She caught the reflection of schematics in the lenses of his glasses. “You watch Firefly?”

Her smile widened, “I’ve seen it at least ten times through. And the movie. Read the comics, too.”

Richie sat back, “Nerd.”

“Says that man who has Mace Windu’s lightsaber on the shelf over there.”

To his credit, Richie didn’t look in the direction of the bookcase behind him. After rolling his eyes, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk, “Have a seat.”

Lilah sat. “Seth says you’re doing a little research.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I know we’re trying to hit the cash from the game, but—,”

“We’re not hitting the cash from the game,” Lilah cut him off, “You’re gonna need that research.”

One of his dark brows lifted, “We’re not?”

“No. I told Seth that we could pull the job he wanted if I had six months. Less than a day was going to get us put in a jail cell really quick. So, we’re going with plan B.”

“What is plan b?” He asked, with interest.

She leaned forward, “You get to crack that safe.”

Richie grinned and it was like looking at a child on Christmas, “Tell me.”

Lilah went over the details while Richie listened attentively—no, attentively wasn’t the word. Richie listened intently. He absorbed every little detail with a speed that impressed Lilah. She didn’t have to repeat herself and she didn’t have to explain her line of thinking. He followed along easily, adding very little commentary along the way. When Lilah finished, Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She frowned at him while he flicked a Zippo and lit one. Did culebras smoke? Would they even get the hit of nicotine, if they did?

Richie took a deep drag, “You ever work on a vault?”

“No,” Lilah answered honestly. “That’s what I’m relying on you for. I’ll be running interference between you at that vault and Seth at the game.”

Something glinted in his icy blue eyes, “Is that what you’re good at? Running interference?”

“No,” she answered again with honesty. “I’m good at finding things.”

“That’s a handy skill.”

“It only works when there’s something to find.”

“Like our book, for example.”

“Yeah,” Lilah drawled. “like the book.”

Richie kept looking at her and Lilah was aware that he was assessing her in the way that criminals did when their asses were on the line. She couldn’t blame him. Lilah might have a reputation in their circles for getting the job done, but she was still a stranger. To either of the brothers, her motives would be as suspect as her allegiance.

“So, Brasa is your bondmate, huh?”

She blinked, truly surprised by the direct question. “Uh, yeah.”

“You know that we’ll take him out if he gets in the way of what we want.”

“I know.”

Richie’s eyes narrowed and he puffed on the cigarette, “You’re being very cool about it.”

Lilah silently congratulated herself on her poker face. She was not cool about the thought of Brasa dying. If how Lilah reacted to his fangs being torn out was anything to go by, she wouldn’t make it through seeing him dead. Just thinking about it made her adrenaline spike. Richie’s mouth quirked and she had the distinct feeling that her poker face wasn’t as good as it should be. She breathed a slow inhale and made her heart slow down.

“We don’t get to choose who we’re destined for,” he said. “I can’t imagine your relationship is any easier than mine. But, there’s a connection, you know? Something that ties us together. It hurt, when Amaru took her. Hurt more than any bullet I’ve ever taken.”

Lilah felt for him, “You seem to be handling your grief well.”

“That’s because I still have hope.” Richie said as he leaned towards her, His gaze was as direct as his conversation.

She wanted to ask him what that meant, but it felt way too intrusive. “I have hope, too.”

“Good. That’s good. Hold onto that.”

The feeling in the room was tense and awkward. Lilah reflexively checked the time, “Listen, I gotta take care of a few things. We’ll talk more later. You just figure out how to open the vault in under three minutes.”

Richie smirked, “I’ll do it in under two.”

“Prove it.”

Lilah stood and went back to the bar. As Seth promised, there was a large envelope with money waiting for her. She tucked it under one arm and headed to the parking lot. Driving the stolen car was risky, but Richie assured her that he switched out the plates when he handed her the keys. Lilah refused to complain. She needed the ride. The four door sedan was understated and she would stay under the speed limit so that she didn’t draw attention.

After dropping into the driver’s seat, she opened up her phone and, also as promised, Seth had sent her an address. She typed it into the GPS and pulled out onto the dark highway. Streetlights passed in a blur while Lilah navigated the mostly empty road. The sun would be rising before she reached her destination, but she didn’t mind. Lilah wasn’t going to sleep, anyway—too busy thinking about the job and feeling the slowly building thrill of getting away with it.

It occurred to her, as it usually did when Lilah was alone, that she could just keep driving. She could take the fifty grand and be elsewhere by the time the sun set that evening. The gray of the morning would be excellent cover—rush hour traffic hiding her in a crowd of cars filled with people just trying to get to work. Almost as soon as she thought it, Lilah dismissed the notion. Sometime between this moment and the second she saw Amaru tearing apart that woman on the bridge Lilah had committed to taking down a tyrant. Her hands kept on driving the car along the off ramp into a suburban neighborhood.

Having found the address, Lilah stopped the car and got out. She stood by the car and stared up at the bold red sign above the door. Tech by Juan. The neon open sign wasn’t lit. Lilah glanced at the hours and noted that they wouldn’t open for another ninety minutes. Put out, she turned and took in the buildings around her. Lilah might not be sleepy, but she wasn’t about to go much longer without a cup of coffee.

She spotted a little place less than a block away. After leaning into the car and pulling a few bills from the envelope, Lilah double checked the locks and headed in that direction. A few minutes later, she was walking back to the car with a caramel latte in hand. Lilah hopped up onto the trunk and sipped it slowly while she waited for the shop owner to arrive.

He was late, which was annoying. Lilah had already finished her latte and was considering another when a squat, balding man ambled up to the door and keyed inside. She waited about five minutes so that he could get settled, then grabbed the money and walked through the front door.

The man she assumed was Juan looked up from where he was writing something on a notepad and greeted her. Lilah put on her best smile, “¿Hablas inglés?”

Juan hesitated, “Little.”

Resigning herself to figuring out how to translate technical words into a language she was only passable in, Lilah said, “Seth sent me.”

“Oh, Seth,” Juan laughed. “Yeah, I speak English. Sorry about that. We sometimes get tourists in here. Bunch of brats, you know?”

“I can imagine,” she drawled, relieved. “Seth said that you would have some very niche products I could purchase.”

Juan jerked his chin in the direction of a door at the back of the shop, “Sure. Its back here.”

He led her into the back room and down a hallway. On the wall, behind a picture of what Lilah assumed was his family, there was a small metal keypad. Juan tapped out a seven digit code and Lilah heard the lock turn. The door opened. Lilah peered inside and made a mental note to introduce Seth to some better liquor.

“You got some very niche products in there.”

Juan smirked, “I don’t usually let just anyone see the inventory. Seth got me out a scrape a while back.”

She nodded, “Is it all for sale?”

“For a price.”

“Cool. Let’s make a deal.”

Lilah walked out of that shop almost fifty thousand dollars poorer. Juan was a fair guy and she managed to get what she needed for the job. Plus a few extra items to make her life easier. She went back to the coffee place and bought lunch with what money she had left. The sandwich and chips was supposed to be easy to eat while she drove, but Lilah only managed a few bites before her stomach signaled that she was too full. The sandwich rode, barely eaten, next to the unopened bag of chips all the way back to the bar.

The sun wouldn’t set for a while and Seth’s car wasn’t in the parking lot. Lilah gathered up her loot and walked into the bar as casually as she could while holding fifty thousand dollars in product. She didn’t need to bother. Nobody looked up when she walked in. Not the bartender. Not the waitress. Not the trucker who was clearly passed out at one of the tables.

Lilah went back to her room and keyed in. She set the equipment on the floor near the bed and toed off her shoes. Then, with a couple hours of daylight left, she laid down to sleep. Her rest was heavy and dreamless. When a knock sounded at her door, Lilah blinked her eyes open blearily to find herself in the dark.

“Team meeting,” Richie said. “Hurry up.”

Reaching blindly for the lamp on the bedside table, Lilah flicked on the light and took a deep, cleansing breath. “Be out in a minute.”

After washing her face and putting her shoes back on, Lilah grabbed the armful of her new supplies and wandered towards the manger’s office. Inside, Richie and Seth were sitting at the small table between their respective desks. They looked up when she came in and Seth held up a glass, “Have a drink.”

“Thanks.” Lilah took the glass from him and sat, “Your guy was very professional.”

“And well stocked,” Seth replied, looking over the items she lined up on the table. “What’d you bring us?”

“Got standard communication ear pieces for all three of us. You won’t be wearing one for this job, Seth, but I figure its good to have on hand. Industry level key card duplicator for the mag locks, if we can get ahold of security’s card. Lock pick set for if we can’t.”

“What’s this?” Richie held up a small case.

“That,” Lilah answered, “is how Seth is going to hear what needs to be done during the game.”

Richie opened the case and pulled out a pair of thick framed glasses, “Hey, brother, you’ll look just like me.”

Seth rolled his eyes and took the glasses from Richie, “Really?”

Lilah nodded, “They’ll look for a wire, a microphone, or anything that even looks like it could help you cheat.”

“And, how am I supposed to tell you what’s going on so you can tell me what to do? Calling out the cards is kind of an obvious tell, don’t you think?”

“You won’t have to because you’ll be wearing this.”

Seth’s eyes narrowed, “A bolo tie?”

“Yes, a bolo tie.” She thumbed the little piece of turquoise in the center, “A bolo tie with a camera in it. I’ll hook it up to this little hot spot here and monitor your cards.”

His eyes narrowed further, “You said my plan was too complicated. You’ve got hidden cameras and glasses with ear pieces in them.”

“Only because I can’t actually be in the room with you. If this game was played on the casino floor, I’d just sit somewhere nearby and we’d do hand signals or something to work out the play.”

“I don’t think we need all this,” Seth grumbled. “I can play perfectly fine on my own.”

Richie pushed his glasses up his nose, “Not against pro players.”

“These aren’t pros.”

“They’re pretty close. High rollers who play every few months and win. I looked them up, Seth, they’re not some drunk idiot you can con with a smile and sleight of hand.”

“According to Lilah, I don’t need to win. I just need to distract the security team”

“By winning,” she cut in. “You have to look exactly like what you are—a plant.”

“I can win on my own.”

Lilah frowned, “We need guaranteed wins. Which means you need to be better than anyone at the table. You need to win so thoroughly that security wants to take you out back and beat the shit out of you after. You might know how to play, but you’re not that good.” She could tell she’d insulted him. “Sorry. Sorry, but we don’t have time for chance. This has to go exactly the way we plan.”

Seth clearly didn’t like it, but he didn’t argue. He took the glasses and the tie, setting them aside, “Alright. While I’m winning this game, what are you doing?”

“I’ll be in the parking lot, running a program I got from Juan—did you know he’s been branching out into coding?”

“I did not.”

“Anyways, he saved me a lot of time with this one. I don’t even need to do any math—which, I can tell you, is a hell of a plus for me. The program calculates stats and predicts choice outcome. He was using it to beat this kid at chess, I’ll be running it for the card game.”

Looking doubtful, Seth asked, “This thing can predict how cards are dealt with just what I have in my hand?”

“Sort of. I’ll plug in the hands of the other players and it will give me a read out of their tendency to bluff. For you, I’ll run a separate program to determine best outcome based on the hand you play. It’ll take a couple hands to really get going, but you should be able handle yourself for the first few rounds, right?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. While you’re doing that, Richie will enter the casino through the backdoor. You’ll need to swipe one of the housekeeping cards first.”

Richie smirked, “Easily done.”

“Okay. Then, you work your way to the vault.”

His smirk fell a bit, “I can’t crack the vault. They’ve got better security than most banks. Pressure switches, and everything.”

Lilah loosed a breath, “Well, shit.”

Richie held up a finger, “There’s a secondary safe that they use for excess funds. I’m guessing it’ll be full with the game going on. That one, I can get to without much trouble.”

“I’ll take a smaller prize if you think you can get into it fast.”

“Wait,” Seth broke in, “Security will still be watching the safe, even if its smaller.”

“Yes,” Lilah confirmed, “that’s why I got this.” She held up a small device. “All I have to do it get this attached to their internet lines and I can slide right into their feed. I’ll run a series of loops so they don’t get suspicious. No one will know Richie’s cracking the safe—you figured out how to do that, right?”

“I did.”

“Perfect.” She threw back the alcohol and winced, “That just leaves the guy at the desk. He’s there for the main vault, but the desk in the same wing as the smaller safe. I’m open to hearing thoughts on how to deal with him.”

Richie held up his hand, “I could just kill him.”

Lilah blinked and stared for long seconds, “I guess you could do that. Might be kind of a red flag if anything sees a trail of blood. And, I’m not super comfortable with murder being our go-to.”

He nodded his head from side to side, acknowledging that she probably had a point. “Alright. I can knock ‘em out and drag ‘em underneath the desk or something. Hide the body while I work.”

She looked at Seth, “Sound good to you?”

Seth shrugged, “I’m good with it.”

Lilah slumped in the chair, “So, uh, that’s all I had. I thought I’d head out and get the internet override in place, maybe run a few tests tonight so that we’re ready. I can record some long loops while I’m at it.”

“I like that idea,” Seth said. He picked up the tie, “I’m gonna have to figure out what to wear with this thing so I don’t look like a total idiot.”

Lilah laughed, “That’s kind of the point. The more you look like an idiot, the more pissed off they’ll be when they figure out you aren’t one.”

His head ticked to the side, “Point.”

Richie looked from Seth to Lilah, “So, this is the plan.”

“Unless you have something better. I’ve run this kind of job before—not at a casino, but I think the metrics are pretty much the same.”

Seth looked at her, assessing, “You’ve stolen a card game before?”

She nodded, “Couple years back.”

“You make a lot of money?”

“No,” Lilah admitted. “I did it as a favor to a colleague. His buddy got swindled by an asshole selling fake life insurance policies. Said asshole had a gambling habit and a huge ego.”

Seth’s assessing gaze shifted subtly, “Didn’t peg you for a pro bono kind of girl.”

“I don’t like people who punch down.”

“Noted.”

“Alright,” Richie drawled. “We got a plan.”

“We got a plan,” Lilah agreed.

Seth poured another drink, “Let’s try not to fuck it up.”

#from dusk til dawn: the series #from dusk til dawn #brasa #au #maurice compte #the usurper #soulmates

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