#but even though public law is so far what i hope to get into after uni i still wanna have some experience with private law

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What the fuck is a PBM?

TOMORROW (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

Terminal-stage capitalism owes its long senescence to its many defensive mechanisms, and it's only by defeating these that we can put it out of its misery. "The Shield of Boringness" is one of the necrocapitalist's most effective defenses, so it behooves us to attack it head-on.

The Shield of Boringness is Dana Claire's extremely useful term for anything so dull that you simply can't hold any conception of it in your mind for any length of time. In the finance sector, they call this "MEGO," which stands for "My Eyes Glaze Over," a term of art for financial arrangements made so performatively complex that only the most exquisitely melted brain-geniuses can hope to unravel their spaghetti logic. The rest of us are meant to simply heft those thick, dense prospectuses in two hands, shrug, and assume, "a pile of shit this big must have a pony under it."

MEGO and its Shield of Boringness are key to all of terminal-stage capitalism's stupidest scams. Cloaking obvious swindles in a lot of complex language and Byzantine payment schemes can make them seem respectable just long enough for the scammers to relieve you of all your inconvenient cash and assets, though, eventually, you're bound to notice that something is missing.

If you spent the years leading up to the Great Financial Crisis baffled by "CDOs," "synthetic CDOs," "ARMs" and other swindler nonsense, you experienced the Shield of Boringness. If you bet your house and/or your retirement savings on these things, you experienced MEGO. If, after the bubble popped, you finally came to understand that these "exotic financial instruments" were just scams, you experienced Stein's Law ("anything that can't go forever eventually stops"). If today you no longer remember what a CDO is, you are once again experiencing the Shield of Boringness.

As bad as 2008 was, it wasn't even close to the end of terminal stage capitalism. The market has soldiered on, with complex swindles like carbon offset trading, metaverse, cryptocurrency, financialized solar installation, and (of course) AI. In addition to these new swindles, we're still playing the hits, finding new ways to make the worst scams of the 2000s even worse.

That brings me to the American health industry, and the absurdly complex, ridiculously corrupt Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs), a pathology that has only metastasized since 2008.

On at least 20 separate occasions, I have taken it upon myself to figure out how the PBM swindle works, and nevertheless, every time they come up, I have to go back and figure it out again, because PBMs have the most powerful Shield of Boringness out of the whole Monster Manual of terminal-stage capitalism's trash mobs.

PBMs are back in the news because the FTC is now suing the largest of these for their role in ripping off diabetics with sky-high insulin prices. This has kicked off a fresh round of "what the fuck is a PBM, anyway?" explainers of extremely variable quality. Unsurprisingly, the best of these comes from Matt Stoller:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/monopoly-round-up-lina-khan-pharma

Stoller starts by pointing out that Americans have a proud tradition of getting phucked by pharma companies. As far back as the 1950s, Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver was holding hearings on the scams that pharma companies were using to ensure that Americans paid more for their pills than virtually anyone else in the world.

But since the 2010s, Americans have found themselves paying eye-popping, sky-high, ridiculous drug prices. Eli Lilly's Humolog insulin sold for $21 in 1999; by 2017, the price was $274 – a 1,200% increase! This isn't your grampa's price gouging!

Where do these absurd prices come from? The story starts in the 2000s, when the GW Bush administration encouraged health insurers to create "high deductible" plans, where patients were expected to pay out of pocket for receiving care, until they hit a multi-thousand-dollar threshold, and then their insurance would kick in. Along with "co-pays" and other junk fees, these deductibles were called "cost sharing," and they were sold as a way to prevent the "abuse" of the health care system.

The economists who crafted terminal-stage capitalism's intellectual rationalizations claimed the reason Americans paid so much more for health care than their socialized-medicine using cousins in the rest of the world had nothing to do with the fact that America treats health as a source of profits, while the rest of the world treats health as a human right.

No, the actual root of America's health industry's problems was the moral defects of Americans. Because insured Americans could just go see the doctor whenever they felt like it, they had no incentive to minimize their use of the system. Any time one of these unhinged hypochondriacs got a little sniffle, they could treat themselves to a doctor's visit, enjoying those waiting-room magazines and the pleasure of arranging a sick day with HR, without bearing any of the true costs:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/27/the-doctrine-of-moral-hazard/

"Cost sharing" was supposed to create "skin in the game" for every insured American, creating a little pain-point that stung you every time you thought about treating yourself to a luxurious doctor's visit. Now, these payments bit hardest on the poorest workers, because if you're making minimum wage, at $10 co-pay hurts a lot more than it does if you're making six figures. What's more, VPs and the C-suite were offered "gold-plated" plans with low/no deductibles or co-pays, because executives understand the value of a dollar in the way that mere working slobs can't ever hope to comprehend. They can be trusted to only use the doctor when it's truly warranted.

So now you have these high-deductible plans creeping into every workplace. Then along comes Obama and the Affordable Care Act, a compromise that maintains health care as a for-profit enterprise (still not a human right!) but seeks to create universal coverage by requiring every American to buy a plan, requiring insurers to offer plans to every American, and uses public money to subsidize the for-profit health industry to glue it together.

Predictably, the cheapest insurance offered on the Obamacare exchanges – and ultimately, by employers – had sky-high deductibles and co-pays. That way, insurers could pocket a fat public subsidy, offer an "insurance" plan that was cheap enough for even the most marginally employed people to afford, but still offer no coverage until their customers had spent thousands of dollars out-of-pocket in a given year.

That's the background: GWB created high-deductible plans, Obama supercharged them. Keep that in your mind as we go through the MEGO procedures of the PBM sector.

Your insurer has a list of drugs they'll cover, called the "formulary." The formulary also specifies how much the insurance company is willing to pay your pharmacist for these drugs. Creating the formulary and paying pharmacies for dispensing drugs is a lot of tedious work, and insurance outsources this to third parties, called – wait for it – Pharmacy Benefits Managers.

The prices in the formulary the PBM prepares for your insurance company are called the "list prices." These are meant to represent the "sticker price" of the drug, what a pharmacist would charge you if you wandered in off the street with no insurance, but somehow in possession of a valid prescription.

But, as Stoller writes, these "list prices" aren't actually ever charged to anyone. The list price is like the "full price" on the pricetags at a discount furniture place where everything is always "on sale" at 50% off – and whose semi-disposable sofas and balsa-wood dining room chairs are never actually sold at full price.

One theoretical advantage of a PBM is that it can get lower prices because it bargains for all the people in a given insurer's plan. If you're the pharma giant Sanofi and you want your Lantus insulin to be available to any of the people who must use OptumRX's formulary, you have to convince OptumRX to include you in that formulary.

OptumRX – like all PBMs – demands "rebates" from pharma companies if they want to be included in the formulary. On its face, this is similar to the practices of, say, NICE – the UK agency that bargains for medicine on behalf of the NHS, which also bargains with pharma companies for access to everyone in the UK and gets very good deals as a result.

But OptumRX doesn't bargain for a lower list price. They bargain for a bigger rebate. That means that the "price" is still very high, but OptumRX ends up paying a tiny fraction of it, thanks to that rebate. In the OptumRX formulary, Lantus insulin lists for $403. But Sanofi, who make Lantus, rebate $339 of that to OptumRX, leaving just $64 for Lantus.

Here's where the scam hits. Your insurer charges you a deductible based on the list price – $404 – not on the $64 that OptumRX actually pays for your insulin. If you're in a high-deductible plan and you haven't met your cap yet, you're going to pay $404 for your insulin, even though the actual price for it is $64.

Now, you'd think that your insurer would put a stop to this. They chose the PBM, the PBM is ripping off their customers, so it's their job to smack the PBM around and make it cut this shit out. So why would the insurers tolerate this nonsense?

Here's why: the PBMs are divisions of the big health insurance companies. Unitedhealth owns OptumRx; Aetna owns Caremark, and Cigna owns Expressscripts. So it's not the PBM that's ripping you off, it's your own insurance company. They're not just making you pay for drugs that you're supposedly covered for – they're pocketing the deductible you pay for those drugs.

Now, there's one more entity with power over the PBM that you'd hope would step in on your behalf: your boss. After all, your employer is the entity that actually chooses the insurer and negotiates with them on your behalf. Your boss is in the driver's seat; you're just along for the ride.

It would be pretty funny if the answer to this was that the health insurance company bought your employer, too, and so your boss, the PBM and the insurer were all the same guy, busily swapping hats, paying for a call center full of tormented drones who each have three phones on their desks: one labeled "insurer"; the second, "PBM" and the final one "HR."

But no, the insurers haven't bought out the company you work for (yet). Rather, they've bought off your boss – they're sharing kickbacks with your employer for all the deductibles and co-pays you're being suckered into paying. There's so much money (your money) sloshing around in the PBM scamoverse that anytime someone might get in the way of you being ripped off, they just get cut in for a share of the loot.

That is how the PBM scam works: they're fronts for health insurers who exploit the existence of high-deductible plans in order to get huge kickbacks from pharma makers, and massive fees from you. They split the loot with your boss, whose payout goes up when you get screwed harder.

But wait, there's more! After all, Big Pharma isn't some kind of easily pushed-around weakling. They're big. Why don't they push back against these massive rebates? Because they can afford to pay bribes and smaller companies making cheaper drugs can't. Whether it's a little biotech upstart with a cheaper molecule, or a generics maker who's producing drugs at a fraction of the list price, they just don't have the giant cash reserves it takes to buy their way into the PBMs' formularies. Doubtless, the Big Pharma companies would prefer to pay smaller kickbacks, but from Big Pharma's perspective, the optimum amount of bribes extracted by a PBM isn't zero – far from it. For Big Pharma, the optimal number is one cent higher than "the maximum amount of bribes that a smaller company can afford."

The purpose of a system is what it does. The PBM system makes sure that Americans only have access to the most expensive drugs, and that they pay the highest possible prices for them, and this enriches both insurance companies and employers, while protecting the Big Pharma cartel from upstarts.

Which is why the FTC is suing the PBMs for price-fixing. As Stoller points out, they're using their powers under Section 5 of the FTC Act here, which allows them to shut down "unfair methods of competition":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

The case will be adjudicated by an administrative law judge, in a process that's much faster than a federal court case. Once the FTC proves that the PBM scam is illegal when applied to insulin, they'll have a much easier time attacking the scam when it comes to every other drug (the insulin scam has just about run its course, with federally mandated $35 insulin coming online, just as a generation of post-insulin diabetes treatments hit the market).

Obviously the PBMs aren't taking this lying down. Cigna/Expressscripts has actually sued the FTC for libel over the market study it conducted, in which the agency described in pitiless, factual detail how Cigna was ripping us all off. The case is being fought by a low-level Reagan-era monster named Rick Rule, whom Stoller characterizes as a guy who "hangs around in bars and picks up lonely multi-national corporations" (!!).

The libel claim is a nonstarter, but it's still wild. It's like one of those movies where they want to show you how bad the cockroaches are, so there's a bit where the exterminator shows up and the roaches form a chorus line and do a kind of Busby Berkeley number:

https://www.46brooklyn.com/news/2024-09-20-the-carlton-report

So here we are: the FTC has set out to euthanize some rentiers, ridding the world of a layer of useless economic middlemen whose sole reason for existing is to make pharmaceuticals as expensive as possible, by colluding with the pharma cartel, the insurance cartel and your boss. This conspiracy exists in plain sight, hidden by the Shield of Boringness. If I've done my job, you now understand how this MEGO scam works – and if you forget all that ten minutes later (as is likely, given the nature of MEGO), that's OK: just remember that this thing is a giant fucking scam, and if you ever need to refresh yourself on the details, you can always re-read this post.

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this month!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/23/shield-of-boringness/#some-men-rob-you-with-a-fountain-pen

Image: Flying Logos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Over_$1,000,000_dollars_in_USD_$100_bill_stacks.png

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[roaringroa]

sent an email to a law firm with my resume and an explanation of my wish to have a summer internship there which in my head meant a voluntary internship meaning something i'd do for the experience and wouldn't even get any money for and they just sent me an email back saying they accept the offer, that i can work there in the month of january next year and that they'll get back to me about the pay??? like damn they're paying me??? i was just gonna raw dog it but hell yeah

[moonydustx]

Hello! I just read law proposing to reader and it's so sweet like-- I wanna cty-

Anyway... what happens on their honeymoon? Would they dock at an island for like a week or so? Just so the two newly weds have some time alone? Or they'd keep sailing after the ceremony? Like- I imagine both happening but I wanna know what you think.

Hi dear anon, sorry for the delay in responding, I was sick this week and everything was delayed.

For me, there are two versions: the ones they would continue to navigate immediately after the ceremony, but I also think mainly that their friends would never let the honeymoon go unnoticed. I also like to think that even after the wedding was over, Law would take short days to spend just with his S/O, locked in the room enjoying each other's presence.

requests open | one piece masterlist

The proposal - the honeymoon (part 3)

Part 1 - Part 2

warnings: brief allusion to sex, but nothing explicit or detailed.

The archipelago filled the horizon more and more as Polar Tang approached. From afar you could see a huge park and what looked like the beach packed with people. You weren't yet used to the idea that came from the minds of Shachi and Penguin - which you soon discovered involved Nami, Robin, Ikkaku. The strong breeze ruffled the layers of the sundress you were wearing, it was also strange not to be wearing a crew jumpsuit.

"The bags are packed." Law's voice took your attention away from the destination you were arriving at.

"I mean, the suitcase. The only one." you grumbled. "What did they do?"

"I'm curious too." Law turned you back to contemplate the sea on the deck and taking advantage of the fact that you were alone, he placed quick kisses on your shoulder.

"Look on the bright side." You grabbed his chin, stroking the little beard that was there. "At least we'll have a few days just for the two of us."

"Ah, finally." He let his head fall under your shoulder, making you laugh openly.

The wedding had been incredible, including the banquet. You just didn't expect the amount of sake to be too much, even if you had ten Zoros as friends. As the night went on, you, Law and practically everyone else had more alcohol than they should have in their blood. The two of you left the party amidst whistles and jokes about the wedding night, but when you reached the room you barely had the strength to take off your dress, just as Law remained with his suit and tie turned in a funny way.

After that, you dealt with all the mess that a wedding can bring and finished restocking the Polar Tang before heading on your way. Combined with all the tiredness and accumulated responsibilities, you and Law still hadn't had the wedding night you'd dreamed of - not even 10 minutes of honeymoon.

"We're here!" you both heard Bepo scream and soon went to disembark from Polar Tang.

While you carried your small bag, Law dragged a not so big suitcase that carried some of the two of your clothes.

"Here are the keys and the address, there's a little map there." Ikkaku placed them both in your hands. "We left you a schedule and also some clothes."

"This is amazing guys."

"So, I'll see you in a week." Law asked and everyone immediately agreed. "Bepo is in charge. Any problems, and I mean any problems, just get in touch."

After a quick goodbye, the two of you headed towards the aforementioned address. Even though he wasn't much for public displays of affection, especially close to strangers, Law took your hand as you dodged fruit baskets and running children. The town fair looked lovely and you hoped you would have some time to explore it at your leisure.

"It seems to be here." the two of you stopped in front of a small wooden door. Law took the lead and opened it, taking the key from your hand.

It was a small but cozy house. As far as he could see, there was a small kitchen full of plants, a sofa and a den den mushi that transmitted video. A shelf with books and more flowers. In the distance you could also see two closed doors, which must have been the room where you were going to stay.

"I hope you like it. The fridge has some things ready and we left some things in the wardrobe too." his attention turned to Law, who had found a small note on the table. "What do you say we see what they got up to?"

"Sounds perfect to me." you took the lead and opened the fridge. Your bag was already thrown somewhere on the table, just as you could see that Law had already gotten rid of his bag.

Inside the fridge you found some alcoholic drinks, some fruit and a huge jar of chocolates that were your favorites. Further down you could see some bottles of wine too.

"Well, that's a great start." you put one in your mouth and approached Law, wanting to put a piece on his lips.

"I prefer this one." He took your lips in a quick kiss. You could complain, but it was undeniable that the sweet chocolate seemed much tastier when it was wrapped around his lips. "Delicious."

"Come on, we have a room to explore." you took his hand heading towards the closed doors.

"Indeed, we do" the malice in his words didn't go unnoticed and as much as you could feel your cheeks blushing, you also wanted to finally enjoy some time alone.

Behind the doors was a huge room. A dark, shaggy rug on the floor and a huge bed that could easily fit the two of you and leave room left. The window on the opposite side of the bed offered a beautiful view of the island, and you could even see the sea with your eyes.

"Wow, it's so beautiful." you laughed as you saw Law throw himself onto the bed and his body sink. "You look comfortable my love."

"Not only does it look good, it's actually good. Did you find anything out there?" he asked as soon as he saw you standing in front of the rustic and large closet that was at the other end of the room.

"I'm about to find out."

You opened the two wardrobe doors, finding some dresses that looked comfortable, hanging along with some other pieces. On the other side, some flowery t-shirts made of the same light fabric were piled up for Law. You also saw flip-flops, sunscreen, and some cosmetics.

"Just some clothes, some things… Wait." you bent down, grabbing a small black box from underneath what would be your side of the wardrobe.

Your surprise didn't go unnoticed by Law, who quietly got up and stood behind you, who didn't notice the movement. Inside the black box were several tiny panties - which most appreciate just threads and jewelry sewn together - some things that looked like lubricants, handcuffs and various other sex toys.

"Now that's interesting." Law's low voice whispered in your ear, making you shiver. One of his hands attached itself to your waist, while the other went to the box.

"I'm going to find out which one of them did this." you replied, feeling your body burn with shyness. However, the way you felt Law pull your body against his indicated what plans he had in mind.

"Leave that for later." his lips went down to your neck, while one of his hands reached into the small box. "I bet you'd look even hotter in this one." he held up a small white piece and handed it to you. His hand then went back to the box and grabbed the pair of handcuffs.

"What do you want to do?" your hands found his hat and slid down to where the dark strands of his hair appeared.

"Now that we're married, you're stuck with me." Again, his lips descended dangerously on the back of your neck. "I think it's time to make this more literal."

That morning ended exactly the same way as the evening of the same day and many other moments throughout the week. You still hadn't realized how much being confined inside a submarine could take away certain freedoms from both of you. The two of you woke up tangled up, soon after you were on the beach; You would go back to your room and decide to continue the activity with a view of the sea, then choose one of the small shops for dinner. Kitchen, living room, sofa, bathroom. You would make a point of thanking whoever had chosen the house.

The moon lit up the room and no matter how much sleep was present, you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because of the small sadness that occupied your heart when you knew that it was the last night you would spend there and that the next day you would leave, maybe it was the noise of music coming from outside, but it was probably an uncomfortable noise coming from the kitchen.

As you watched Law, you could see that he was far away in the dream world. His tattooed back was lit by the moon and the only thing stopping him from being completely naked was a sheet over him. You stood up and put on panties - normal this time - and a black shirt that had been on your husband's body for a few hours ago.

You looked in every corner of the kitchen and found nothing, nothing that could be making such a mess at that hour. When you reached the sofa you then realized. A tiny black ball of fur, huddled next to one of the rugs, caught your attention.

"Oh no." You picked up what was supposed to be a small black cat kitten, on one of its paws there were some thorns. "Let me help you."

You first tried hard to remove the thorns, but were unsuccessful as the cat complained every time you touched the injured area. Soon after, you tried to find the litter he belonged to, but there was no sign of a cat around the house. Only one solution ran through his mind. You left the cat on the sofa and went in search of Law, you just didn't expect to find him already leaving the room.

"Everything is fine?" he asked, still drowsy, trying to understand your disappearance from the bed.

"We need to talk."

"Now?" he looked indignant, still yawning.

"I want to have a baby." As soon as the words left his mouth, Law's color seemed to leave him along with the sleep he seemed to be feeling. His mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for words. "No, not that. A baby, a kitten. He's alone, he's hurt and I don't know what to do."

"Okay… I understand" he accepted almost automatically, still stuck in his first conception of what a baby would be. "I just wouldn't go around informing anyone like that."

"I'm just a little anxious, help me, love, please." You pouted making the task almost irresistible for him. "I don't know what else to do."

"Let me see him." Law followed you to the couch and saw the little ball of fur bundled up. "Hey man, you don't look good."

"I tried to take it away, I tried to give it food, but he won't let me touch his paw."

"Wait for me in the room, maybe you don't like seeing it." Law asked and even though you were reluctant, you nodded and walked away from the two.

It took more minutes than you expected and you had probably already walked around the entire room more than ten times when Law opened the door, bringing the small cat and a small pot in your hands.

"Someone was hungry." He sat down and placed the kitten on the floor, next to the pot that looked like some crushed fruit.

"Thank you my love." you hug him, placing countless kisses on Law's head. "We need to buy food for him."

"Is he really going with us?" Law turned up, finding an expression that made it clear that the decision had already been made. "What will it be called?"

"I'll let you choose. But think carefully first." Law untangled your arms from him, just so he could place you sitting on his legs.

"Thank you my dear."

"For letting you choose the name?"

"Not only that, but for choosing me." He still held you close, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. "For choosing to love me and of course, for growing our family."

-- Extra 01

"So, did you like the gifts?" Ikkaku took your arm and pulled you away from the others. The boys seemed more entertained by the little cat than by your return.

"Was you?!"

"It was and I hope you brought everything back because the owner of the house is a nice old lady, she doesn't need to know about these things."

"Well, I brought the toys and a single panty." you replied, the victorious smile was clear on your lips.

"One? Just one? Did you miss all the others?"

"I didn't lose them, they're just no longer usable." you responded as naturally as possible, laughing as you saw the meaning of the words reach your friend. "Actually two, the first one I think Law wanted to keep as a souvenir."

"Oh God, no, I won't think about that." She left apparently traumatized and leaving you laughing about the situation.

--Extra 02

You had already done your tasks in the command room, updated your medicine stock and it was almost lunch time. As you approached your room, you knew that Law wouldn't be that busy at this time and it would be a great time to have lunch together. You just didn't expect to find him holding the cat on the table, the small black cat resting on both paws, as if the feline were a toy fighting with two other action figures.

"And the warrior Sora took down the…" Law - and the cat - noticed your present. "I was just.. Sora and I were just having fun." He tried to find a justification, making you laugh even more.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [24] - Geraniums

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Inspiration can strike at midnight.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions and descriptions of domestic violence, injuries and trauma. 

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Playing the madly in love couple in public had never been challenging so far, so it was quite surprising that the mask was slipping.

You had a feeling that it was mostly because of you though.

For the past week, you had managed to keep your interaction with Benedict to a minimum even though it felt incredibly hard. Whenever you saw him in the hallway or you two went to your separate rooms, you were filled with this powerful urge to talk to him, but after that duel you weren’t so sure you could.

Though, there was no denying it. You missed him terribly.

Benedict on the other hand was respecting your wishes and giving you the space you wanted. Though you two pretended as if nothing was wrong in public, the usual displays of affection were not there, no doubt because he didn’t want to cross the line you drew between you two.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Felix asked you while he sketched beside you under the tree you were leaning your back against. Charlotte had asked both you and Benedict to join her on a picnic but Anthony had spent no time to whisk her away, and Benedict was busy talking with his artist friends so you had excused yourself to read a book in the shadow of a tree, Felix soon joining you to sketch the view in a peaceful corner.

“Absolutely,” you said. “Why do you ask?”

Felix shrugged before tilting his head. “Is that your brother-in-law?”

You turned your head, then raised a hand in the air so that Andrew could see you, a smile lighting up his face immediately.

“This is a lovely surprise,” he said as he threw himself next to you. “Clover. Felix.”

“Andrew,” Felix said with a smile and you held back a grin upon hearing the first name basis.

“What are you doing here?” you asked and he motioned at the entrance of the park.

“Oh I had this business with an incredibly boring lord about—it doesn’t matter,” he said. “How about you? Is Jo around as well?”

“Mm hm, she and Bess decided to take a walk around the park,” you said and he grinned.

“They do love their walks.”

You shot him a mischievous glance and he looked inside the picnic basket.

“No cookies this time?”

“My reaction exactly,” Felix said and Andrew tut-tutted.

“You play with our feelings, Y/N.”

“I’m just sitting here doing nothing,” you deadpanned, turning your gaze to Benedict at the moment he stole a glance at you, and you both looked elsewhere at the same time. Felix raised his brows and Andrew looked between you.

“Oh something happened.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Nothing happened, you both are being nonsense—” you started but got distracted the moment your looked at Benedict again who was just approached by Lady Margery. That bitter taste climbed up your throat as you gritted your teeth, but then forced yourself to turn back to your book.

“Oh it’s a jealousy issue,” Andrew pointed out and turned to Felix while your eyes widened. “That settles it.”

“It’s not a jealousy issue!”

“Of Lady Margery?” Felix asked Andrew who nodded solemnly.

“Seems like it, is that her name?”

“I’m sitting right here,” you grumbled, turning to glare at Andrew who rolled his eyes at you.

“You were a scrawny little thing when I first met you, that glare doesn’t work on me.”

“You might be the only person in the ton who doesn’t get intimidated by her.” Felix pointed out and Andrew chuckled.

“I built up an immunity.”

“Great, I’m still waiting for that day.”

“Oh you need to put in years before that happens.”

You shook your head slightly and kept your gaze on the book.

“Who is Lady Margery?” Andrew asked Felix who took a deep breath.

“She’s a very wealthy widow,” he said. “A lover of arts and the last I heard, she likes Benedict’s works.”

“Where did she see his works?” You couldn’t help but ask and Felix shrugged.

“At a party, I’m told,” he said. “Either that or Henry showed her.”

“Benedict is in love with you though, don’t feel threatened.”

“I do not feel threatened by her,” you deadpanned, still trying to ignore that burning in your throat. “A lot of people admire Benedict’s works.”

“Not all of them look like that though,” Andrew mused and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Not as pretty as you, obviously!”

You huffed out and closed your book as soon as you caught the sight of Josie and Bess. “I’ll get some fresh air.”

“We’re sitting outside, Y/N.”

“Fine, then I’ll go and join Bess and Josie,” you said. “They’re over there.”

“Clover—”

“I’m fine,” you said as you stood up, painfully aware of Benedict’s gaze immediately turning to you. “Really. I just need to stretch my legs, I’ve been sitting here for way too long.”

You walked away from them, ignoring the way Benedict’s eyes were following you as you passed through the garden to make your way to Bess and Josie.

                                                   *

The dinner was quiet at first and you weren’t particularly hungry, so you kept playing with the food on your plate, pushing at it with your fork, trying your hardest not to look at Benedict even if you could feel him stealing looks at you.

He took a deep breath when you pushed at your plate, ready to retrieve to your bedroom but before you could stand up, he cleared his throat.

“Y/N?”

You looked up at him. “Hm?”

“I was going to tell you,” he said. “My mother invited us for dinner this weekend.”

“Oh?” you said. “Sure. What brought that on?”

He grimaced, making you bite back a smile.

“She wants the family to have dinner with Charlie’s family,” he muttered. “Which would have been fine if it were for any reason other than…you know.”

“Lottie and Anthony courting?”

He let out a noise of discontent and nodded his head. “That.”

“Will you be alright?” you asked. “During that dinner?”

He thought for a moment.

“…Uh huh.”

You raised your brows. “Very convincing.”

“It’s just—” he motioned with his hand. “Charlie and him?”

“It’s been almost a week since they started courting each other, how are you still so shocked about this?”

“Neither of them told me.”

“I wonder how that feels,” you pointed out and he scrunched up his nose, making you bite down on your lip.

“Walked right into that one.”

“Kind of like walking into a duel,” you mused and he nodded.

“Mm hm, kind of like that,” he said and his head shot up. “Which reminds me, I have something for you.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion.

“What?” you asked as he got up from his chair to come closer to you, then pulled the chair near you to sit down. He reached into the inner pocket of his waistcoat, then pulled out a tiny bag to put it on the table, making your frown deeper.  

“What is this?”

“It’s a gift,” he said, crossing his arms over the table so that you would see he wouldn’t pull the gift out of your reach. “Along with my heartfelt apologies and promise to not keep things from you.”

You stole a look at him, then slowly reached out to take the small bag. You untied it and turned it over, then blinked a couple of times when you saw the tiny seeds falling into your palm.

“Benedict—?”

“Geranium seeds,” Benedict said. “I figured maybe you’d want to plant them.”

Your eyes found his, your heart skipping a beat.

“And I’ve been told geraniums represent foolishness,” he added with a small grin. “Considering my actions of late…”

A small giggle escaped from your lips and you ran your fingertip over the seeds.

“But I haven’t been gardening lately.”

“I know,” he said. “They can grow in a vase as well, did you know that?”

Your jaw dropped, a laughter climbing up your throat.

“Wow, really?”

“Mm hm,” he said, that proud smile playing on his lips before his gaze turned soft. “So until you want to put it in the garden, it can be in your room in a vase. If that’ll be more comfortable for you.”

He was giving you a way to garden and making sure you knew he couldn’t take it from you.

That familiar warmth spread through your chest as you put the seeds back into the small bag, and carefully tied it up before turning to look at him.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, “Really, Benedict. It means a lot.”

He shot you that lopsided grin and you held up your pinky.

“Truce?”

He raised his brows, then hooked his pinky with yours.

“Truce,” he said, tugging at your finger with his before pulling his hand back. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Who told you where to get geranium seeds?”

“Lady Margery,” he said, making you raise your brows but he looked nearly oblivious to your reaction. “You two have a lot in common, she likes flowers as well. She was telling me about it today—she also has a garden, apparently. Invited us for dinner whenever we’re available.”

“Did she now?” you asked, trying to ignore that bitterness in your throat. “Interesting.”

“You would get along well with her I think.”

“I doubt that,” you murmured and he tilted his head.

“Why?”

“Just a feeling,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, and cleared your throat. “Speaking of gardens, I think I want to take a walk in ours and get some fresh air before bed.”

“Oh,” he said. “Alright. Do you—?”

You shook your head and pushed your chair back to stand up. “No worries. I’ll just walk around, that’s all. It’ll help me sleep better.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Mm hm, enjoy your meal!” you said and walked out of the dining room, still holding the small bag tight in your hand, a smile curling your lips once again.

                                              *

The interesting thing about your nightmares was that they had changed quite a bit after you had found out that Benedict had gone on a duel. Contrary to before, now your night terrors were about his death, getting shot in the duel, bleeding out in that field—

A gasp got caught in your throat as your eyes snapped open into the dark room, and you blinked a couple of times before wiping up the cold sweat off your forehead, realizing just how freezing the room was. Contrary to the pleasant weather from earlier, the warmth was replaced by the cold as soon as the night fell, and not only you had told the maids they didn’t have to start a fire in the fireplace, you had also left the window open as you went to bed.

You pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed, now realizing you had no idea where the matches were because you hadn’t had to do anything related to fireplace ever since you had moved into this house. The familiar ache in your wrist that came back whenever it was cold made you grimace and you closed the window, rubbing at your arms. You thought for a moment, then walked to the door to peek your head out, the faint light at the end of the hallway catching your attention immediately.

Benedict’s studio.

Well, that room had to be warm.

You lingered at your doorstep only for a moment before you left your room, then made your way down the hallway to reach the studio to find Benedict sketching by the fireplace. Your heart skipped a beat at how effortlessly handsome he looked, and you knocked on the doorframe, making his head shoot up.

“Y/N?”

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, come in,” he said, motioning at the other armchair across from the fireplace and you smiled at him, then sat down on the armchair.

“Nightmares again?”

You stole a look at him, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Just cold,” you said, holding out your wrist so that you could feel the warmth of the flames in the fireplace just so that the throbbing would ease a little. Benedict’s gaze fell on you as you turned your wrist, clenching and unclenching your hands. “What are you drawing?”

“Hm? Oh—” Benedict snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at the sketchbook before looking up at you. “Just some practice, that’s all.”

“Can I see it?”

He thought for a moment, then made a face. “You don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s you.”

You raised your brows, your stomach doing a happy flip.

“The sketch?”

He nodded his head and you arched a brow.

“I don’t want to see it or you don’t want me to want to see it?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not sure it’s good.”

“Can I be the judge of that?”

“Will you spare my feelings?”

“Absolutely, because I walk around sparing people’s feelings,” you retorted, holding out your hand. “Come on.”

He heaved a sigh, then handed you the sketchbook, making you giggle before you turned your gaze to the page.

Oh.

The sketch was so beautiful that for a moment you couldn’t help but stare at it, your mouth slightly open. It was a sketch of you from today, when you were sitting under the tree with a book in your lap, surrounded by beautiful flowers-

When you thought he was busy with Lady Margery.

Benedict’s voice pulled you out of your daze; “It’s that terrible huh?”

You looked up at him in disbelief, then shook your head.

“I was thinking the opposite actually,” you managed to say, turning your glances to the page again. “It’s just…”

“Tell me,” he said when you fell quiet and you licked your lips, then shook your head again.

“You drew me prettier than I actually am,” you mumbled, still admiring the sketch in front of you but you saw him tilt his head out of the corner of your eye.

“What?”

You shot him a small smile, then handed him the sketchbook back.

“It’s beautiful,” you said. “Too beautiful.”

Benedict let out a small chuckle, his gaze soft on you.

“Nothing I draw or paint comes close to how beautiful you are, you do realize that?” he asked, a fire spreading on your face. “That’s why I keep thinking it’s not good enough. It’s nowhere near a reflection, merely a shadow.”

It felt as if your heart was trying to escape from your ribcage with how fast it was beating and you felt a smile warm your face, then shot him a look.

“Well then I’m afraid I have no criticism for you,” you said, making him clutch at his chest.

“Oh no.”

“Mm hm,” you said. “Just what every artist hates. No criticism, only admiration.”

“You have no idea,” he played along and you giggled, holding your wrist closer to the fireplace again to feel the warmth on your skin, even in your bones. He watched you in silence for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not normally but cold makes it ache,” you said. “It should go away soon.”

“How did you break it?”

Your stomach did a painful flip and you bit inside your cheek, pursing your lips.

“That’s not important information,” you said, your voice completely flat and he paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Still don’t trust me huh?” he said with a small smile as you pulled your gaze off the fire to steal a look at him.

“Benedict—”

“It’s alright,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

A silence fell upon you both and you could feel the nervousness filling your system, but you managed to ignore it as you cleared your throat.

“It wasn’t…” you trailed off. “Peaceful. Back home, before my uncle took me in.”

He pulled his brows together in confusion as if he couldn’t understand how it was relevant and you turned your wrist again, still holding it to the fireplace.

“My parents were very different than yours, or my uncle and aunt,” the words left your lips very easily. “We could never tell when it was going to get bad because most of the time there wasn’t even an actual reason behind it, my father was always angry and my mother wasn’t any better than him, they just had different ways of discipline and punishment.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him pulling back but you didn’t turn to look at him, keeping your eyes on the fireplace.

“Josie got the worst of it, mostly,” you muttered. “She always got in the way to protect me no matter what and like I said, they had different ways, my mother would mostly just slap us or push us around, but my father…” You let out a bitter laugh. “My father was the type of person who would only stop beating the hell out of you when he decided it was enough, regardless of how much you cried—not that Josie ever really cried. I used to, but I learned to stop myself after a while.”

The memory hit you and you shook your head slightly, trying to focus.

“Anyway, there was this one time he got really mad at Josie and he was drunk, and in all that pushing and pulling this bottle got broken, and he had this…this idea to cut her hand with it so that she would ‘learn some respect’,” you quoted him, the words giving you goosebumps even now. “But my mother stopped him, saying it would ruin Josie’s chances to get married if he left any actual scars that her potential suitors could see, making her—what was the term?” you asked more to yourself and scoffed. “Damaged goods, she said.”

Benedict could only stare at you in silence.

“I was very young when it happened, so in my mind I figured that if I had an actual scar, then no one would want to marry me and no one could put me through what my father put my mother through,” you said. “But the problem was that I didn’t have any, so that night after everyone went to bed, I went to the kitchen to give myself one.”

The crackles of the wood in the fireplace echoed through the room, making you heave a sigh.

“I couldn’t really do it though, because it hurt way worse than I thought it would,” you added. “I stopped before I could push the knife deeper or drag it down, but my mother walked in the kitchen and saw me doing that.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes and you blinked a couple of times to push them back.

“I begged her not to tell my father but of course she did, and father was absolutely furious,” you said. “He yelled at me, then shoved me headfirst into the wall and I hit my head very hard. And the thing about hitting your head is that you can’t really find your balance when it happens, so I tripped backwards and fell right on my wrist.”

For a second, the only thing you could hear was the burning wood and you shrugged your shoulders, then retrieved your hand and turned to look at him.

“That’s how I broke it.”

He looked nearly frozen, staring at you in complete silence as he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to wrap his mind around what you had told him. He gritted his teeth, that fire coming to life in his eyes and he opened his mouth but you stopped him before he could say anything.

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I don’t need anyone to do that, I hate that nonsense. I’m fine, that’s not why I…”

You trailed off for a moment before you took a deep breath, your eyes locking in his.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you Ben,” you rasped out, then offered him a small smile and got up from the chair. “That’s the moral of this story.”

“Y/N—”

“Good luck with your sketches,” you said, nodding at the notebook in his lap. “Being immortalized sounds rather lovely now to think of it. Keep drawing me prettier than I am, will you?”

With that, you walked out of the room, your heart still beating in your ears. 

Chapter 25

[mulansaucey]

Bat Wives Wine Night

AZRIEL X READER

This is my first thing I’ve put out to public eyes...ever. So please be nice. I had this idea for awhile and this is mostly a teaser to what I truly want to write. I want to make this a full imagine with smut. If you like this idea and want to see a spicier version to how this night ends please let me know. I’m always open to criticism and always looking for advice so as long as we are nice about it let me know what you think. Im gonna start writing more stuff and will be open to requests. Thank you and I hope you like this little teaser. 

PART 2:

WARNINGS: drugs and alch used responsibly, dirty thoughts by the bat boys

CONCEPT: The bat boys finally realize what their mates are up to on their top secret Wine Nights 

“Oh my gods…you’re right” Feyre softly said. 

     Feyre, Nesta, and I were sitting at the River House sipping on wine and enjoying what we call Bat Wives Wine Night when I had the realization that our husbands have had 500 plus years of experience and fun while us wives are in our 20’s being depressed and stressed for majority of our lives. This was unacceptable and not fair at all. We deserve to let loose and live a little. Go drink til we throw up, smoke mirthroot and tobacco as we pleased. To just be stupid, reckless teens. A night where we didn’t have to be perfect, just ourselves. We all looked at each other with understanding that our simple little wine nights just became a lot more fun. 

    “Okay ladies, once a month like we do now we keep letting our mates think we have wine, eat cheese on a platter and gossip. But let’s just go crazy, do whatever we want because we feel like it. Because we can. We’re young, hot, and rich. Let’s just be stupid, not enough to be dangerous but enough to have some memories to laugh fondly at just like our darling husbands. We are Bat Wives, I say we give them a run for their money.” I declare loudly watching my High Lady’s eyes light up with mischief (just like her mate). Nesta’s feline grin gave me the approval I needed from her. Thank the Mother our mates were not here to hear us declare our secret fun. 

    “Our mates will find out though, eventually. Cass is nosey, drills me on what happens on our Wine Nights. Such a gossip…” Nesta whispers the last part. 

    “Plus your mate is the Spymaster…” Feyre concludes by taking a sip of her wine. Yes he is, my beautiful, sweet, loving mate. Azriel. We’ve been married and mated for over a year now. I met him at a time when I swore off love at the nice age of 19 years old. But he was so kind and patient, building up our friendship first and making me feel seen as a person. He is a wonderful male and he had to fight many battles to get where he is today. But I am not Azriel, I’ve barely traveled out of my own court. Our perspectives can be quite different which I love but I want to create my own experiences as well. After the war, after almost dying I realized life can be taken from me at any moment and I want to spend those moments knowing I made good memories. That I lived. Even if it’s once a month with my sister in laws doing something as silly as smoking mirthroot. It’s something to ease the soul, bonding between just us girls. 

    “So what? Let’s see how long we can go til they figure it out. Make it a game, see how far we can go before they find out just how unhinged we are.” I giggle just a bit tipsy. The girls and I burst out laughing and start planning what we should do next month. 

*TWO YEARS LATER*

   Two years and counting. Our darling husbands STILL think we have a quiet night in with some books and snacks. It’s truly comical. It’s also nice to know something they don’t. 

“I’ll miss you.” Az murmurs in my hair, holding me til I walk into the River House front door. I tighten my arms around his waist and breathe him in. He takes a step back looking at me, love and adoration flowing through the bond between us. Az looks heart eyed, as if seeing me for the first time. I can’t tease him because I know for a fact I’m looking at him with the very same look. 

    “Can you guys just make out already so we can start drinking?” Nesta says unamused. I jumped back from Azriel, startled. When did she open the door? Nesta walks further away from us into a deeper part of the house. I turn back to find Az already looking at me. Something about Azriel is he is absolutely clingy in the best way possible. Physical touch and quality time are his love languages, any time we have to part it’s a bit dramatic because we simply hate saying goodbye. It’s the love I’ve always wanted. I love the Wine Nights as he has nights with his brothers to get away but nothings better than coming home and finding my place within his arms. 

    “If you ever wanna leave early just let me know and we can cuddle and I can go down on you.” Az’s cheeky grin showed proudly. I laugh while pushing him, he grabs my wrist playfully holding me to him. He brushes some hair from my cheek and presses his smooth lips to mine. We stand there for what feels like hours just feeling each other's breath mingle, when he glides his naughty tongue against my lips I pull away. Both us panting I say, “Go Az, before I actually ditch them for you.” I giggle. He very reluctantly peels his hands off my body and shoots up the sky with a wink, surely a promise of great fun when he picks me up tomorrow morning. 

        With the mating haze slowly leaving my brain a new found giddiness found its way in. We’ve started doing full on sleepovers instead of a few hours of mingling. That way we can return to the River House and clean up before our mates return to us. Truthfully it started after Feyre had way too many tequila shots and threw up for two hours begging us not to call for Rhys as our “cover” would be blown. I skip into the River House and take a look at my girls. 

    “Ready to fuck shit up?” I ask. “We’ve been ready, we were betting if you two would actually fuck on my front door.” Feyre says as fill her cups with wine, pregaming for later. Nesta laughs while grabbing my hand leading me into Feyre’s room. She has the biggest bathroom and closet for these occasions. We all start getting ready putting on our preferred style of makeup and clothing. Laughing loudly as we gossip about Beron’s hairline that keeps going further back as each year passes. We truly don’t know if it is but we all love roasting that horrible man. Once we are satisfied with our looks for the night we get ready to winnow to Veela, a club the IC doesn’t frequent too often. It’s newer and doesn’t have the huge crowd Rita’s does. It’s perfect, truly. We won’t run into anyone we know, not too crowded, but fun and rowdy. We pack the leftover mirthroot and tobacco from last month and winnow to the club saving us some time. We walk right in finding our usual table free in the corner. 

    “Let’s start with some shots ladies.” Nesta yells out heading to the bar, I’m a bit scared because Nesta’s choices in liquor are questionable at times. Feyre and I start people watching and laughing as we see the funny things the already drunk patrons are doing. I start rolling a blunt and a few j’s also a few cigarettes as I tend to want to smoke one after a good drink or two. Nesta comes back with the shots and our preferred mixed drinks in hand. We raise our glasses cheering for another successful Bat Wives Wine Night. 

    About an hour or so later we are tipsy, Nesta not so as she prefers to smoke mirthroot. Her struggles with drinking have lessened, she has a drink or two while she watches Feyre and I dance on tables. Nesta nursing a joint between her fingers swaying to the music she loved. Nesta says the plant helps her feel connected to it. Whatever, I don't care as long as we do what we want and feel safe doing it. I am a fan of both, I hop off the table and take the joint between my lips taking a long drag before exhaling into her mouth as we both giggle uncontrollably. Her red eyes meet mine, seeing Nesta relaxed and having fun is a privilege and I’m glad she feels safe enough to do so. We all love our mates but I think being with each other brings a new peace to our hearts. Sisters and friends, we are loved. For the first time in a long time we are loved. Her eyes widen, face slack as I laugh and turn I start coughing inhaling sharply as I see them. 

Our husbands. 

Our mates. 

Staring. 

    I gently pull Feyre off the table where she was dancing with two other fae, gently pushing her head to make her see what we see. Feyre chokes on her breath. 

“Shit…” Feyre mutters. Shit, indeed. 

*BOYS POV*

    Flying to the House of Wind, Azriel thought of his sweet mate. Years they’ve indulged their wives in their one night of secrecy. They deserved it, for being selfless and caring. Their mates have sacrificed a lot for them, for the Night Court. But they are busy bodies at heart, they can’t help but be curious. They love their wives, they just want to be included. Azriel lands on the balcony to see Cass and Rhys nursing a glass of whiskey. He walks in and pours himself a glass. 

    “Az, what do you think they do all night?” Cass says looking into his glass, pouting. Rhys looks unamused, Nesta probably told him off for being nosy. “Cass, they’re women. They drink their wine and dish about the new love interest in the books they read. Don’t think too hard you’ll hurt yourself.” Rhys chuckles as Cass throws a pillow at him. Rhys ducking slightly missing the pillow. 

    “I’m not but you know what I’m talking about. They smell like tequila and there’s traces of makeup and good perfume on them. Think about it, what do our mates truly get up to?” Cass says. Azriel sits and starts to think while Rhys and Cass get into it. Azriel the ever observant once couldn't have missed this right? He trusted his mate, knew she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Right? 

    Rhys stands after an hour or two of them not so obsessively tracking back to all the times they’ve had their Wine Nights. “Let’s go to the house now, we’ll say we forgot something. Catch them off guard.” He looks at the boys in confirmation. All their eyes light up in glee of possibly catching their mates doing something scandalous. But how they underestimate their wives is truly amusing. How they didn’t catch on after two years, even more so. 

    They set off for the River House when they landed there was silence. No giggling or tinking of wine glasses. Nothing. At first panic rushed in thinking someone hurt their mates but once they reached the master bedroom they saw clothes strung across the place, makeup and hair products messily sitting on the counter. The girls usual PJ’s on the floor. They went out.

     Cass scoffs, “I knew it! I KNEW THEY WENT OUT WITHOUT US! HA RHYS, I TOLD YOU!” he booms loudly, happy to be right and Rhys to be wrong. Azriel immediately makes a plan to find them, sending his shadows out. Once he gathered they were in the city they set their sights there. They went to Rita’s, not a trace. They searched restaurants and pleasure halls, Azriel questioning the staff there. They learned not only did they go out tonight but have frequented these places multiple times, without them. They were smart, Az gave them that. The girls used cash wherever they went instead of billing them, going as far as to use fake names and backstories when they would stop by the herb shop to purchase mirthroot and tobacco. Something they did not know their mates indulged in. For a second they questioned their mates, if they truly knew them. Now they for sure were set to find out answers. Azriel’s shadow reported to him they were across the city in a new club. 

    The music was pounding, drunk and high fae dancing or sitting and laughing. Azriel first spotted his High Lady and mate dancing on a table top, Feyre pouring tequila down his mate’s throat. Azriel couldn't lie, the sight made his pants tighten, seeing the hard liquor pouring down his wife’s very low top trickling onto her breasts. Watching her throat bob up and down, very similar sight to when she has him in her mout- “WHAT THE FUCK!” Rhys exclaims though it sounds more like a whisper compared to the very raunchy music booming in the background. Az notes that though Feyre lets loose at Rita’s and has fun, Feyre looks unhinged. As if she wasn’t the High Lady of Night but a 20 something year old who was having fun. Azriel laughed as he watched with his brothers, they stayed in the corner out of the way but still in eye sight of their girls. He watched his mate get off the table and steal the joint Nesta was nursing, blowing it in her mouth. Cass watches just as intently, in fascination and horniness. “I didn’t know they did THIS on their wine nights, I didn’t even know Nes smoked at all.” Cass says. He’s starting to wonder just how nice it would be to get Nesta this relaxed then fuck her for hours under smoke induced love making. Rhys is no better, watching Feyre swing her hips against the strangers around her. Wanting so badly to take her in the bathroom. But first it’s business. 

“Alright, brothers. They’ve had their fun now let’s crash.” Rhys said with a smirk. All together they marched towards their mates and stood waiting for them to realize. All had a mask of indifference though they really wanted to burst out laughing. One by one each girl’s head turned and paled. 

[chromatic-lamina]

chapter 1107 spoilers

Howabout that cover? Howaboutthat cover? How ABOUT that cover?

Bepo, with a lovely warming pot of tea (or a kettle at least), and a club? (to protect the captain?), finds him skiving off with a snow leopard, a funnel, and maybe an empty bottle of Vodka. Chapter title is: "I've been looking for you", and it refers to the giants, I think, looking for the Straw Hats, and Usopp (especially), looking (out) for the giants, and Catarina Devon doing what, exactly? But Caribou, snivelling little sop of a man that he is, looking out for Blackbeard (his current lord and saviour). But, I'm with Bepo, looking out for Law!

The Blackbeards' land on Egghead and St. Jay Garcia Saturn says he knows all about Blackbeard's background, and Catarina knows it too, and I think it's maybe something separate from the "D" initial, cos', after all, it is in Teach's public name. But we see Van Augur--(like, why is the anime captioning him as Van Ogre when Augur is written clearly on the screen? But anyway). The last time we saw him

was

here in chapter 1081 when Bepo went Sulong and escaped with Law. Most of us thought that Blackbeard's crew had been split in half because

it was assumed that events were happening concurrently, but

Van Augur and Catarina Devon are here (on Egghead), and perhaps Van Augur could have warped himself there, but here he says

he hasn't mastered the warp warp fruit enough to get him and Catarina off the island, so it's unlikely that he could have warped himself all the way from Winner Island. SO, did they pursue Law and Bepo, and the two are nearby, or with the giants, or, or, or? Or is there some other explanation (about Van Augur--I know that Law's whereabouts is still relegated to cover pages)? I'm not a close reader, so I'm happy to have anything pointed out.

But, looks like Catarina will be able to clone

Saturn, and looks as if Saturn knows it. Of course, this guy below (Caribou) would be relevant. Can't wait to see his role!

I'm out of order, of course! I don't think that Law got recaptured, but I still think there might be a giant connection. And speaking of the giants

Usopp's reaction was just

heartfelt, was, ahhh, my heart, and Nami and Chopper were really cute too. And yeah, it's been some time, so the quick recap was necessary. AND, lots of small things I just loved either for humour or poignancy, like:

Brook abandoning everything for the sake of a cup of tea (even though he says he wasn't stopping for a cup of tea)---and Lilith sending forth messages (to raise the barrier, I'm guessing) because Brook is all too calm that the Sunny is heading towards the barrier, and bound to be fried by it. Lilith is not at all equipped for dealing with Straw Hat madness. And no-one can seriously out-machismo

Zoro. He's just too silly and strong. And!!!

the Pacifistas turn on the army, the army needing to suppress a workers' revolt. And that's Kuma in the bottom picture, isn't it? It looks like Kuzan, but PX is written on the cap, I think, in the picture. Again, let me know, please!

Bonney just

being in awe that

she gets to see Nika (and Nika teaches her how to throw a rubber punch, extra future bad news for Saturn, I hope). And

Kuma and Vegapunk (what's the far right image?) take in Nika too. Love Franky's way with words here:

telling Bonney she needs make use of her legs, and Vegapunk decides he's gonna stay (or die), and Borsalino's gonna make sure of it. But!

the power of love is all pervasive! (at least when Sanji's wearing the boots). Although his love was used for protecting Bonney rather than Vegapunk, and probably has more to do with Germa modifications than love, but it is Sanji's motivator, and attacks Kizaru's knowledge of "how things work"!

Kizaru/Borsalino's face in the first panel really shows how much power he's losing. Sentomaru took a path Kizaru could have taken, but didn't. He's following Bellamy's path, so it'll be interesting to see where he ends up. Because he's too smart to be a blind lackey. Being an aware lackey is some powerful conditioning/mental gymnastics.

And I think that's about it. Hoping Kid gets a cover page soon too!

[celeste444spacey]

Celebrity sp scenarios politician edition (good one ofc)

Okay is this officially MY series cause i know u guys are eating these scenarios up

So ya girl has been obsessed with scandal lately (as i should be) and this shit has me thinking about the president and shit (not even american here like it's insane, plus the show is super fictional soooo)

Anyways i know there's some of you are probably wanting to go into law and politics and want to have an SP who is too.

SO HAVE FUN!!!! HOPE U LIKE THESE

also shoutout to miss @fayelilye for this idea

You and him are one of the most loved people in the political field in the country, (heck even the world) everybody has so much respect for you, even the opposition party cannot say bad things about you guys.

Your man keeps you on his side throughout his political campaign and just cannot be seen in the public without you

He keeps saying how grateful he is that you exist and that he wouldn't even run for office or get this far if it weren't for you

He wins the election and he mentions you in his speech

"Thank you so much to the public for believing in me, the people over at <party> and most specifically the love of my life <you> who has been the backbone of this campaign and without her i don't think i would have won."

5. He makes a groundbreaking policy that changes millions of lives and all cause you suggested it and he names the act after you (i don't know is this even legal?? law students lemme know lmao 😭)

6. During his office, he writes a bunch of love letters for you later releasing the book which becomes a bestseller and all of the chapters are just essays on how much he loves you and thinks about you. He could name it "Letters to <nickname he calls you>".

7. Always seen doing charity everywhere, helping millions of people.

8. Let say he's president, he plans out detailed security for you everywhere he goes, even more than his own just so you can be safe and secure and protected.

9. You are the nation's first couple. That's what people call you, the first couple.

10. Your home is THE home of your country. You guys are lifestyle goals

11. You guys even though super super public and needing maximum security wherever you go, get caught going on ice cream runs late at night with the security surrounding you, but you guys lost in each other like you're kids having fun.

12. You are his personal and political advisor, he comes to you with every issue first and discusses it with you before moving forward.

13. You guys go all out on festivals calling people to the office (for eg the president's place and stuff) for giving gifts, candies and stuff to children and families.

Sooo, do we love these?

[majachee]

did you say….a power rangers x td au?

IVE BEEN TRYING TO MAKE ONE BUT HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO THANK YOUUUUUUUUUU I owe my life to you power rangers was the shit

please yap about it I’m begging

IT CAME TO ME IN A VISION EARLY ONE MORNING, AND IT HASN'T LEFT MY BRAIN.

I am writing a fic about it, though it isn't my number 1 priority wip atm cuz its just smth silly and self-indulgent, but because I now know there's someone out there REALLY DIGGING THIS IDEA, it'll be moved up on my list by a few notches lol

This AU is heavily focused on comedy and action, so rather than assigning TD characters to PR roles that they'd actually fit, I went with what would be REALLY FUNNY to write about.

So the Rangers consist of Harold (red), Duncan (Black), Noah (blue), Courtney (yellow), and Heather (pink).

These guys were assigned to work on a lab/project for their science class, specifically on the effects of pollution, littering, and climate change. No take-backsies, they're stuck with eachother and 4/5 of these guys don't want to fail... 4/5 of these guys are also assholes.

After some healthy doses of bitching, they agree to meet up and study an abandoned rig. But GASP! They get attacked by some guys... made of putty? Damn dude that's CRAAAAAAZYYY

... this is specifically based on the MMPR tv show, and I'm very tempted to draw the putty monsters exactly like how their costumes look in the show (silver fullbody suits with seams visible and monster claws/masks.) Listen, the putty monster costumes bring me A LOT OF JOY, I genuinely love this show dO NOT @ ME (unless its for mmpr fanart... please @ me...)

Anyways, these assholes fumble through the fight: Harold shows off the skills he learned at Defensive Steve's Defense Class, Noah gets thrown off a small cliff because he weighs less than a paper weight, Courtney feels the exciting rush of bloodlust for the first time... Normal stuff, really!

Of course, this ends up with all 5 of them being summoned (lazer kidnapped) to Power Rangers Headquarters! And it's revealed that Zorgon's role was taken by Chris McClean I'm SORRY. Look, it's funny. He has the same personality he does in canon, but instead of running a reality TV show centered around teens, he has to babysit a small group of teens who hate eachother. This will be really funny in execution, I promise.

Some of the kiddos have a few words to say about the Dinozords... cuz half of them aren't even dinosaurs. Also, they do NOT like the idea of being forced to work together on a color-coded superhero team of all things!

Drama Bot is Alpha, it focuses on the team's publicity ratings.

Rita Repulsa? Meet Blainely McBlamey!! SELF EXPLANATORY!!

I love Rita Repulsa, so Blainely fans consider this a very high honor.

The Green Ranger is Alejandro.

I plan on having the AU mostly focus on campy episodic adventures with some character development sprinkled in, and having the more important PR plots be... well... important and more thoroughly executed, if I ever get around to it.

As for the main gang themselves?

Harold is quite stoked and honored about being a superhero, and quickly ends up being the team leader and team morale – due to his smarts, and quick-to-forgive personality. He doesn't take shit from anyone, but he also won't hold grudges, especially on the battlefield... Though he does have a slight problem with going on long tangents about certain factoids (same...)

He has a vast array of skills and knowledge at his disposable... It all depends on how/when he uses said skills lmao. So far he's probably the least developed one in this AU, right next to Duncan. That'll change when I write more of them.

Courtney? Oh... Oh you KNOW she likes being a Power Ranger. She preaches about the importance of morals, and upholding laws, and how some people ought to respect the responsibilities that come with being a Power Ranger... and some people are more deserving of being recognized as heroes than others. Courtney I love you and I hope I do you justice... mwah... She very much likes taking the lead, and claims that she should be the team leader... and valedictorian, and class president... Oh yeah, you KNOW she worries about her grades a lot, especially after becoming a Ranger. She becomes a lot more productive with her passion as the story goes on, and learns to trust and respect her teammates.

Noah takes on the role of reluctant tactician... Aka the smartass. Physical activites aren't his forte, and he plans on keeping it that way. He relies on his Zord the most, and when that isn't available he resorts to evasive maneuvers and hiding while the other guys handle it. Him staying on the sidelines, however, does lead to him being more observant to the enemies' weaknesses, which will eventually lead to him having a more active role in the team as the main tactician. I'd imagine once that happens, he'll have a lot of interesting back-and-forths with Harold and Courtney. Still a sarcastic, laidback asshole, but more active in his participation when it comes to the team.

Duncan... is more aligned with his season 1 and early season 2 personality. No cheating or love triangles here. He is still an ASSHOLE, though, especially to Harold and Noah. They don't take his shit. I dont have much to say about him yet iM SORRYYYYYY

Asshole punk with a heart of gold... that's his schtick alright...

HEATHER MY BELOVED. She looks hella good in pink and she knows it. She doesn't like being a part of this team, but by god will she put the effort in, because she doesn't want to die to some clay-freak. Her zord-buddy is the pterodactyl, which she finds to be quite convenient, considering it's on the smaller side and can fly, very easy for aerial advantage. Very hellbent on defeating Blainely McBlamey, because once she's defeated they can all go on with their lives. Presumably... evil grin...

I don't know how to really put it in more fancy words, but like... Heather is the most active participant along with Harold and Courtney. She's very headstrong, tends to butt heads with Courtney a lot (not only are they both stubborn, but they also both view themselves as the leader of the group. Nobody realizes it's Harold, not even Harold himself, dramatic irony at its finest.)

Everyone on the team loses their shit when Alejandro (the enemy[tm]) gets a frickin' DRAGON-ZORD of all things.

If yiu have questions about specific characters or MMPR episodes, I'll do my best to answer lol

[coffehbeans]

Prompts 35 and 70: Sleepover and Snacks

Masterpost of Stories (92 Prompts)

Talking about fluffy g/t scenarios turned into angst, have my writing after two months of nothing ashaush featuring characters from this future story that I hope to turn into a book one day.

As always, feedback appreciated! This one was challenging with the dialogues and I'm not a native English speaker, so if something's unnatural, please lemme know.

Synopsis: After losing most of his friends when he got diagnosed with hyperon syndrome, Ethan relies on the two that haven't left his side. But a relaxing sleepover turned-wrong puts their friendship to the test.

.....................................

Nothing had to change. That's what Ethan thought when he returned to university, one week after being diagnosed. Yeah, he did have twenty-or-so less friends than usual, after growing four feet in a week and all that, but who wouldn't? People with hyperon were feared, that's a natural reaction. He used to fear them before as well. Before he started to become one of them. There's a stinging pain that pang in his chest sometimes, though. It happened every day when the class ended. Ethan yawned as the class ended, shaking off his sleepiness. He sat on the floor, as he could not fit in a chair, and took notes in a tiny, to him, notebook as he left the brown curls of his hair cover his face and shield him away from the others' gazes. He waited for all the students to leave, focusing his hazel eyes on his lecture notes. It's best this way. He never was the tallest before the mutation, so he used to be one of the first to leave class with friends, but now... It felt too weird. Too much, he realized, as his presence was enough to scare people, since he loomed over everyone, covering them with his shadow. That feeling, of accidentally intimidating someone... He hated it. So it was best to wait for all of them to leave.

…

When the teacher dismissed them, Ethan sprung up from his seat after diligently taking notes of constitutional law class. He'd be a great public defender after all, his scores had to be top notch. Forgetting all about it for now, he rushed to one of his friends, patting him on his shoulder. "Let's grab a bite to eat, I'm starving!" His friend chuckled while the others joined in. "Finally someone got their ass out of the seat." "We had to wait ten minutes this time." another friend groaned, but her smile showed the complaint wasn't serious. "Quick, let's get him outta here before he decides to ask the teacher something." Another friend said as he shoved Ethan towards the door." "H-hey! I'm not gonna ask anything! Not this time, at least." He chuckled. And the group of friends walked together to the food hall, telling whatever came up in their minds.

… Ethan glanced up at those same friends, taking his eyes out of the notebook. ‘Amanda, Carson, Thomas...’ Through that moment frozen in time, their eyes met. Ethan put on a friendly smile and waved at them. Those three darted their gaze away, rushing through the crowd of students and out of the classroom. Ethan's wave froze in place, and he slowly retracted them back, heart sinking. His smile waned. ‘It's okay.' he thought. 'They're scared. It's normal that they'd be.' But still... Yeah. Ethan couldn't figure out a way for this to stop hurting. Ignoring the familiar pain, he got up, the ground getting far away under his feet as he rose to his full 12 feet stature. Was the ground even further this time? Has he grown again since yesterday? Probably. He won't think about it. Ethan was an imposing-looking man. After being diagnosed, his physique changed, along with his stature, in order to adapt to the increased mass. Naturally, he got stronger. Ethan already had an athletic build before, being part of the basketball team and all that. But now? It was too much. He was too much and he hated every part of it. Even hiding his body under his clothes, he still looked as bulky and broad as a heavylifter, the countour of his prominent muscles hinted beneath the cloth. And although his square face remained the same with his friendly, round eyes and his charming smile, the sheer thickness of his neck contrasted with his amicable expression. In short, although Ethan hasn't changed his personality at all, and he knew of this fact, it clashed so heavily with his new, intimidating body that most people preferred to not give him the benefit of the doubt. Ethan could understand that, he's been avoiding the mirror for a good few days now. And the added feet in height didn't help. In fact, the extra inches would not stop anytime soon.

Ethan ducked through the ten feet tall classroom door. The university prepared a pretty big door for him, but he saw himself having to duck more and more through the doorframe as days pass. He walked through the college corridors, looking at the ground and watching his step. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a few scared or shocked faces turn to him only to walk further away, ‘away from the monster’, he supposed. 'I'll get used to this.' He repeated this mantra in his head, over and over, but it was getting harder and harder to believe in it. Ethan took slow steps, one at a time, hands in his hoodie pockets. Heel first, then the rest of the foot, one after the other. He continued those steps until he reached the food hall. As he entered it, some tables turned empty when people fled in silence upon seeing his towering form, taller than a garage door. Sure, he could understand their reasoning. But really, do they think he's a high school bully that will crush their skulls if they don't lend him a seat, or something? Whatever. He won't stay long in there, anyway. He doesn't want to bother people. Last time he ate at the food hall, only nine feet back then, people would gawk at him when he ate his mountain of food. To call that experience uncomfortable was an understatement. Every day has been an embarrassing experience. His thoughts were, thankfully, cut short when Ethan saw two familiar faces. They waved at him, and he smiled back at then. At least he had Zora and Seb. Seb treated Ethan the same. He assured Ethan, again and again after he met Ethan at his new stature, that he was not scared. But the plump brunette also acted the part, remaining relaxed, hands in pockets as he addressed Ethan with the same chill look he always had. Seb had to look much, much more up at him now but, other than that, nothing changed, and Ethan's size wouldn't provoke a gasp of fear from his friend. He appreciated that. He really did.

Zora treated Ethan the same. But her case happened a bit differently. Well, it's fair she'd react the way she did: curious. The long haired Biotechnology student had a instigative nature. Zora asked him questions if she saw Ethan was comfortable to answer then, about how it felt to have the worldwide-feared hyperon syndrome, and if he got injured during his growth spurts. But aside from that, no flinch, no jolt, no trembling at his sight. On the contrary, she'd remain short tempered, climbing the big guy to yell at his face: "stop hating yourself, you dumbass", whenever Ethan distanced himself from them out of insecurity. When she scolded him, it looked way more comical than it should've been, as her 5 feet stature in comparison to his 12 feet one caused the size difference between the two friends to be the most extreme. Zora made Ethan feel too tall, but at the same time, it was as if nothing had changed between their friendship.

They really cared. "Hey." Zora called for Ethan in the distance. "How's it going?" Seb's much quieter voice followed. Both him and Zora got up, walking towards Ethan with no hesitation at all. "Hey guys." Ethan flashed his signature dimpled smile. One he used to show all the time to everyone. One he only shows now to these two. He appreciated them more than his "thanks" could ever achieve to say. Ethan wished for their friendship to remain like this, the same before the syndrome, the same after. They were the only friends left. And that's all he needed.

...

  "You guys should swing by my place tomorrow." - Zora started after they met up and left the food hall, to Ethan's relief. The outside part of the campus was open, not cramped, and he appreciated the lack of scared eyes. Even though the sight of him walking way slower than his two friends, who barely measured up to his thigh, looked strange to random bystanders. "Ya know, seizing the moment and all that. You should totally come." "It's midterms though. Why now?" Seb, the introvert, chimed in. "Ugh, don't be a buzzkill. Besides, I just got the PS6 and I need some test subjects." "What time will it be?” Seb changed his mind in an instant. The latest game console with the best graphics. No way he'd miss that. "What about you, Ethan? Friday night at my place?" Ethan came back from spacing out, stopping mid-yawning, and looked down, way down at Zora's short stature. He's spacing out a lot, he noticed. Maybe because that conversation reminded him of when he had something to do every week, going out to party and de stress after a stressful college test week at his Law major. He'd go to different houses, from different friends, or they'd all hang out together, Seb and Zora included. Drink, eat good stuff, dance. Ethan would talk to people until his throat went dry and he'd quench his thirst with beer untill he'd forget it all. As if he needed any drinks to be talkative, always laughing and bringing people along the conversation with his stories. People used to call him "life of the party" and he'd proudly admit it as true.

"Look who it is!" "If it isn't my best buddy Ethan!" He came running to them and tackled one of his friends in an aggressive hug.

"Aw, you miss me way too much, man!" "How was the game today?" "Scored." Him and his group of friends cheered in unison. "But wait, hear me out. You guys won't believe what happened till that match." And Ethan went on and on, while the friends who also played that basketball match added some details to the story. The rest of the group laughed in unison at the random antics Ethan told. … That's usually how Ethan would arrive at the place. Looking at himself now, he barely recognized himself. That confident, outspoken guy turned aloof and often quiet, his mind always drifting somewhere else, towards anywhere but the reality. "Hey! Earth to Ethan!" He blinked and looked down, way down at Zora. "Right. Um, sorry. Friday night at your place? Can't make it." "Why not?" Seb and Zora asked in unison, the latter raising an eyebrow. "Well, it's your house. Ceilings are low, all that. I don't wanna accidentally break stuff." He let out a lame chuckle. "Dude, seriously? You don't remember Zora's place?" "Yeah that's right. My house could fit two of you on top of eachother!" Zora teased as she pointed at Ethan. Ethan winced. House was an understatement, that place was a mansion. Ethan always was terrible at coming up with excuses, and now he had no more of them. "I don't know, guys. I just don't think it's safe." Seb sighed and looked to his side, while Zora groaned at Ethan. "Oh c'mon, we don't have all the time in the world. What if we won't get to hang out like this anymore? Carpe diem and all that, you know?" "Though 'carpe diem' at my house doing nothing sounds just as good." - Seb added. Zora nudged him to shut up, earning a laugh from their much taller friend. 'Zora's right', Ethan thought. He knew too well the weight of those words. Every day that passed, he felt new pain under his skin, in his muscles, his joints. And when he felt pain, he knew he'd gotten taller. And stronger. And broader. And too big and intimidating for his taste. The city got less and less adequate for him by the day, and Ethan knew that soon he would not be allowed inside the safe borders of Steelfort anymore.

And that soon he'd be as big as the other 130-feet-tall, unfortunate souls, that also got cursed with the blasted syndrome and that now roamed the wastelands outside of the city bounds. 'One month before they scort you out.' One month. His doctor's words echoed in his head. "I mean, that'd be great, I really think so. But..." - Ethan paused when he heard his voice too loud again. He can't get used to the deeper tone of voice coming from his mouth. He turned towards Zora as she cocked an eyebrow at him  "I reaaally don't want to stomp around and accidentally break stuff at your house." "Cut the crap, Ethan." - Zora snorted. - "You're probably the most careful mutant in this town." "Maybe even the most careful in America." - Seb said. - "Remember that time when we saw him walking down the corridor and someone tripped next to him, and he apologized over and over thinking it was him who made her fall?" Zora chuckled. "The girl was at the opposite side of the corridor, and even then you somehow still thought you stomped too hard or something. Honestly, Ethan, you're just a big softie." Ethan chuckled. How could he even go against these guys? "Alright, alright. I... I can make it." "Then I'll see y'all at my place this Friday, at eight." "Why so late though." Seb protested. "Quit being an old man." Zora retorted.

... Dusk had come to the neighborhood as the sun shone its last rays on the wide sidewalk. Ethan shook his doziness off with a yawn, as he treaded the fragile pavement with slow steps, flinching when he heard a louder thud than usual. It compared to walking on eggshells. He supposed he could walk faster, after all he's not big enough to destroy a sturdy sidewalk yet, but the significant amount of people walking, or rather, rushing past him indicated otherwise. He had to be careful. Being big also meant being prone to stumble, and if he so as much as hit someone accidentally, his days inside Steelfort would be over. And he'd never see his mom and friends again. Ignoring the chills crawling down his spine, Ethan walked painfully slow until the crowd dwindled. Relieved, he picked up his pace. Hyperon individuals can't take any form of transport, so he had to walk to his destination, which was a long trek, even for him. By the time he arrived at Zora's house, the sun had long set. And wow, what a house that was. It was sleek, with sharp angles, towering and grand. Pillars of marble adorned its extravagant front wall. Ethan whistled at the sight. He now knew why Zora told him not to worry, the ceiling of the first floor looked taller than his 12 feet tall self. That, was impressive.

The second floor, from what he could see outside, had a much shorter ceiling, but it still added to the house's impressive height. The front of the house had a monumental, luxurious wooden door, adorning its limestone grey walls. Ethan reached for the door, and sighed. No matter his worries, he agreed to go, after all. There was no going back now. He extended the tip of his pinky finger and gently, slowly, tapped the ring bell. He hoped he hadn't broken it by accident. Three seconds later and he heard the pitter patter of Zora's tiny footsteps. She opened the door and he backed away, allowing her to crane her neck to glance up at him. "Finally. You’ve arrived just in time to see Seb absolutely failing at this game." "Hey!" Seb's muted voice echoed lightly through the room. Probably the loudest voice Ethan heard from him in the three years they knew each other. "Must be a hard game he's playing." He smirked. "Yeah, right. He doesn't know the difficulty is set on easy." Zora's grin widened. "Anyway, come in." After going through the doorframe, Zora led Ethan to the living room. It was spacious, with a open layout that merged the dinner room and the actual living room. In it, there was a large, rectangular sofa, a fluffy carpet, and a 72 inch ultra-wide TV, in which a grim-looking FPS game was playing, with Seb's back turned to Ethan. The frantic pressing of controller buttons and the violent gunshots from the game were the only background sounds of the room. Upon the screen changing to a red "Game Over", however, Seb turned to his friend.

"What's up, big guy." "The ceiling, I guess." Ethan grinned, and Zora groaned at the awful pun. He sat crisscross in front of the sofa, on which Seb was sitting, both facing towards the TV screen. "Heard you're showing your pro-player skills at the new console." He said with sarcasm. "Shut up."  Seb kicked Ethan's left arm with a smile on his face. Zora disappeared at the kitchen, picking a drink and chips for herself, while Seb tried yet another failing match, with Ethan teasing him and his poor gaming abilities. After a while, Zora set her stuff on the ground table in front of the sofa, while Seb paused the game to pick a drink for himself. They spent the next hours like this, drinking soda and eating snacks, most of which Ethan had paid, since he knew he'd consume much more than both of his friends combined. They brought over some chips and popcorn, Zora and Seb playing competitive games while Ethan cheered on whoever was winning. Both were utterly terrible at it.

Maybe if he could still play games, he'd teach them a thing or two of its mechanics, but his hands already got too big for the controller. After a while they chose an action movie to watch, for which Zora turned the lights off, and before they knew it, midnight had arrived. Ethan's eyes tried hard not to close. He felt sleepy, too sleepy. The movie was heavy-paced, and he had a good last night of sleep so, why couldn't he keep his eyes open? "Hey, you can get comfortable, you know?" - Zora said, noticing Ethan was hunched over. - "You're in the same position for hours now, I can push the sofa a little so you can lie down." "Ah, don't worry, it's ok-" "Dude. Don't worry. It's no problem at all." She got up and started pushing the sofa away, to which Ethan helped her with much ease. She also moved, with Seb's help, the ground table further away from them. "Won't your parents be mad that you changed stuff around?" Seb teased "Wait, so there was a problem after all?" "They won't arrive till next week. I'll move the stuff back tomorrow. Simple." "What the eyes don't see, the heart won't feel." Seb replied. Later on, Ethan laid down on his side, facing towards the action movie in front of them. That position was better. Although, he was sure he'd fall asleep now. Was he tired from class? He still didn't get it. Usually, he has less energy than normal with his condition, but this was far too much- Wait. His stomach sank. Had he forgotten to drink his pills? His heart raced against his ribcage. No, he remembers taking it after lunch. It was okay. He was okay. The symptoms were controlled, and there was no major growth spurt predicted for the week. He took a deep breath and sighed.

He'd be okay. -than? Ethan?" He snapped back to reality to Zora's calls for him. "Falling asleep already?" Seb grinned at him. "Ah, Sorry. Got distracted a bit. What is it?" "Well, I was just suggesting Seb that we use you as a human cushion." "Oh. Wait. What?" "Yeah, what she said." - Seb replied. "You see, the sofa is far away, and you happen to have much more space that it anyway, so..." "Be our backrest for a while, will ya?" "Um... Sure, I don't mind."

...

Zora and Seb laid their backs against Ethan, in front of his chest. That was... Weird. But he supposed he shouldn't feel that way. It's just weird when not long ago the three would each sit at a corner of the sofa, with a bit of space left. And now he was the "sofa substitute" instead. But still, Ethan had to admit, seeing his two friends so small and huddled up in front of him was kinda adorable. He contained an amused smile, and they kept watching the movie, laughing and saying a snarky remark here and there about its comically horrible plot. It didn't take long for the three to fall asleep, Ethan's friends unconsciously leaning back against him and using him as a pillow. They slept like that peacefully for the remainder of the night.

...

Ethan opened his eyes to the sight of a square, closed-off room. No windows, no doors, only the grey walls and the suffocating smell of mold. His heart started to beat fast. 'It was that nightmare again', his subconscious said, but Ethan himself had little to no awareness of it. He looked down at his hands, noticing his appearance. He was back to his original shape. Skinnier, shorter, as if no hyperon had taken hold of his body. Yet, he couldn't find relief in this, a sense of dread washing over him. His breathing became labored by the second. 'Where the hell am I?' He thought. His eyes darted around the place as he twisted his head around, searching for an exit. No matter what, he had to leave that place. He had to. If he did, he'd be free. He would- A deafening rumble of the walls shook Ethan to his core. Realization hit him, eyes widening. The walls started to move, closing in on him. Ethan gasped, darting to the nearest wall and banging against the concrete until blood dripped from his knuckles. Out. He had to get out. He had to leave. 'Please, please-!' he begged in vain as the room moved further towards him. The ceiling lowered as well, brushing against his head and forcing Ethan to crouch and shield himself with his arms. He hyperventilated, pushing in vain the walls that ate away at the leftover space. Widened eyes, racing heart, stomach sinking to the bottom and he'd die, he'd die, he would- When the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything started pressing against him Ethan let out a blood curling scream, gritting his teeth as he heard and felt the cracking of the walls against his skin.

...

Zora awakened to the sound of trees uprooting from the soil. Wait. Wasn't she inside? There were no trees where she fell asleep. The feeling of something pushing against her back jostled her awake. She opened her eyes, only to widen them when she noticed how much closer to the television she was. The ever-present sound of trees uprooting and rubber bands snapping filled the room.

As well as the pained grunts and shivers of a sleeping Ethan.

Her heart fell, deducing what could most likely be happening at that moment. Sitting up on the carpet, she slowly turned to her right. A hand on the carpet twitched as its fingers extended upwards, bones cracking as it did so. A mound of flesh lumped and pulsated under the stretching skin. Chills crawled up her spine. Shaking, she turned around. Her friend was growing at a rapid pace right in front of her. And he was not awake, shifting in a disturbed sleep. She shot a glance at Seb, who was still asleep, settled in a tricky position between Ethan's arm and his torso. If he stayed there while Ethan grew, Seb would... She rushed to him and shook her friend under the expanding arm. "Seb. Seb, wake up! Quick!" "Ugh. Whaat isss it..?" He replied sleepily. "Get away from here. Ethan is-" she hissed. Seb noticed movement around him, the space becoming cramped and warm, and jostled awake, scrambling away from the once-comfortable spot. The two friends watched Ethan for that split second, struck by shock. Ethan closed in the space between them and the TV as he expanded. The floor groaned under him and it wouldn't be long until his back crushed the sofa behind them and the table on his side. Zora was the first to break from the stupor, rushing towards Ethan's face and smacking it with her trembling hands. "Ethan. Ethan! Wake up! You idiot!" Her insult had no meaning under her worried, shaky voice. Seb broke from his shock a while after, approaching Ethan as his friend still didn't manage to wake him up, with Ethan tossing and turning as if he was having a nightmare. There was a risk those heavy arms would hit them while he's unconscious. Seb halted in thought. How to even wake up a giant? And there was the danger of him accidentally hurting them in a fright, too. But…

‘I have no other choice.’ Seb approached Ethan's ear, knowing very well the danger of it as Zora looked at him with widened eyes. And Seb screamed from the top of his lungs. "ETHAN! WAKE UP!" He jolted awake with a huge gasp, rising into a seating position so fast his arm collided against Seb, throwing him over the sofa and to the ground. Ethan gasped while Zora ran towards Seb with a frantic voice. "What's. What's happening...!" Ethan looked down at his hands. Cracking. Expanding. His stomach dropped to the ground.

‘No.’ He looked down at his friends who looked horribly terrified. No. Nononono. He scrambled away from them in fright, only to accidentally support his enlarging hand on the sofa, breaking it in half. He looked back at it. Heartbeat faster. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

This was a dream. This was a nightmare. It wasn't real. It can’t be!

Panicked, he scrambled further and further away from the paralyzed friends. Their faces pale, widened, worried eyes. But most of all. Scared. His remaining friends were scared of him. Ethan groaned when he felt pain surging through his body as he grew more. He aimed for the opposite side of the room, crawling backwards until he reached the door for the courtyard. He slid it open, breaking more furniture in the process, and squeezed his enlarging body through the doorframe until he left the house and stopped it from collapsing. Once over the spacious backyard, only the sound of his own bones snapping could be heard. His frantic heartbeat and his gasps added to the cacophony of noises, until the sounds of his growth spurt subsided. Ethan was left exhausted, lying down on the grass and gasping for breath, parts of his clothing completely ripped apart like he's a freak show. …

His ears buzzed at the doctor's diagnosis. His mother, Helena, held his oversized hand with her shaking ones. "The exams confirmed it, but it was clear to us before: it's Hyperon syndrome." The female doctor stated in a professional tone. Helena suppressed sucked in a breath, holding back her tears. She strengthened her grip on Ethan's hand. Ethan looked at the doctor in disbelief, reality not yet sinking in. A delusional part of his mind kept affirming it wasn't the syndrome, just a normal growth spurt, even when at that night his body changed so painfully and so drastically and the bones protruding from his skin and the muscles tearing through his clothes and- None of that was real, right? It must've been a joke destiny played on him. It can't be. It won't be. Any moment and he'll wake up, he had to- He had a basketball match to win next week, Carson would make a birthday party tomorrow, he had a criminal law test to pass. He'd be a public defender one day. Damn it! He couldn't just be diagnosed with an incurable mutation that turned him into, into a... "The good news is that his growth is not the instant type, otherwise his chances of survival would be slim." The doctor continued informing Ethan and his mom, the former half-listening, half-drowning in the sound of his own racing heartbeat, waiting, praying, begging for the moment he'd wake up.

"The bad news is that it's not the slow type of growth either. His type of hyperon is harder to predict as each growth spurt vary in amount and frequency." Helena glanced up at her son with worried creases on her eyes, noticing how out of it he seemed. Yet the doctor continued, looking up at Ethan's distraught face with a composed expression. "I give him around one to two months before he's 20 feet tall." “20 feet?!" - Helena reacted. "We need to begin treatment as soon as possible in order to reduce any painful side effects of your growth." This was not a nightmare. It was real. It was happening. To him. A void formed in his heart. And his mom couldn't contain her tears any longer. “I'm really sorry, Mr. Greenwood."

…

He was curled up on his side, a ringing sound in his ears, the frantic heartbeat in his chest, and the sore throb under all his muscles. Tears gathered in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. His friends. They must be terrified of him now. No. They must have run away from here already, to alert the police officers that another hyperon host had grown uncontrollably inside the house, breaking everything in it. It was what he deserved. He destroyed his friend's home. He broke the furniture. He almost hurt them. Heck, wasn't that Seb who he threw off him when he awoke? Was he even alright?? No, he was hurt, that must've hurt him. They were having such a great moment too, enjoying each other's company. Having fun. And he ruined it. It was his fault. Ethan rose to a sitting position, hugging his knees and attempting to take deep breaths. If he panicked, it would only make things worse. The worst thing than a giant monstrosity, was a giant monstrosity that didn't act rationally. Deep breaths. In and out, in out in out in out- "... Ethan...?" A feminine voice coming from inside the house jolted him from his panic and he looked up, incredulous. Zora and Seb were standing just by the doorframe, looking at him with worried, but afraid eyes. "You guys..." Ethan's voice was all but a whisper. Shame attempted to take over him. He hugged his exposed stomach and crawled even further away, trembling from head to toe, looking much more scared than they did.

From Zora and Seb's point of view, they never saw their friend so vulnerable. From his curled-up position, the grown 22-year-old man looked like a kid scared of the monster under their bed. Ethan was the first to break the stifling silence. "It's... It's not safe here. You should go to the nearest police station and tell the incident. They..." He gulped down his trembling voice. "they'll find a way to get me out of here for your safety. And..." He looked at Seb who still wore a pained expression on his face, most likely from his injuries. "They'll give Seb medical treatment." "Hey. I'm fine." Seb interjected. "…Doesn't seem like it to me." "Ethan, look." Zora chimed in, approaching him slowly. Her steps still shook a little. Dang it, if only she could control her shock. But how would she even lie about being calm? She isn't. The living room is all over the place and she saw her friend fill up the room in minutes and almost crush Seb. She. Was not. Calm. But Zora knew Ethan thought of all of this. Ethan dreaded this happening since the beginning, she was the one who convinced him to come to her house. And heck, she knew she had made the right call. So she stepped forward, leaving Seb to lean on the glass door and pretend that he wasn't with sore ribs. "Look. I know what you're thinking. You're probably on a load of self - hating bullshit right now but, it's not your fault, okay? I'm fine, we're fine. See?" She walked closer and closer to her friend who, while sitting down, towered over her by what she guessed was 10 feet. She clenched her teeth. Crap, he got big. So that's how hyperon-affected people all turned out? So monumental... No, even worse than that.

Ethan finally looked down at Zora with a hollow expression on his face. He reached out for her with a hand and- She flinched and backed away. He knew it. He fucked up so badly. "Damn it! Warn a soul!" - Zora hissed. She knew her facade fell down right at that instant. Ethan sighed loudly and looked at her with the most crestfallen expression she saw her friend ever making. Hopeless. The face of someone who thought he made a grave mistake. Zora knew that was not the truth and she had to convince him it wasn't. But the instinctive part of her certainly wasn't helping with the whole "don't feel like a monster" spiel. She cursed under her breath. But Ethan said nothing. He just looked at her with those dejected eyes. Like all hope had been drained. Like he was losing both of his friends on that day. And Zora had, no, she needed desperately to convince him it wasn't the case. Because it truly, faithfully, wasn't. She opened her mouth to say something, but Ethan looked at Seb and spoke before she could. "How... How bad is it? Something's broken?" He attempted to even out his voice but it came out trembling and faint. Seb sighed. He knew that Ethan would not fall for his and Zora's trick at pretending everything was fine. It wasn't. And it's about time they're 100% honest about it. So Seb walked forward, as Zora looked back at him with an expression that screamed ‘don't tell a thing.’ "It's sore all over, yeah, but no ribs broken, I think" - he limped towards the looming figure of his friend, grunting from the effort." - everything hurts but, not in a unbearable way. Might get a purple spot here and there though." With both of his friends now close to him, Ethan could properly look at them. They looked so, so small now. Much smaller than before. He wanted nothing more than them to treat him like everyone else treated him. At least that way, they wouldn't be hurt. A knot clogged in his throat and his stomach twisted and turned at the realization. There was no going back. This was real. It was happening to him. His previously happy, fulfilling life was running out, scurrying through his fingers. "I really... Really screwed things up, didn't I?" - his voice turned grave and faint, and Ethan hung his head low. He took in a shaky breath - "I... I don't mind if you guys don't want to stick around me from here on out." "Ethan." - Seb, surprisingly, spoke up first. - “Not gonna lie. You scared the shit out of me back then." He walked closer to Ethan, shortening the distance between them. "But that's all there is to it, it was a scare. None of us were in control of the situation at that moment, that includes you." "And, and also, we got scared of what was happening, but that doesn't mean we're scared of you, you know?" - Zora interjected, seeing the perfect opportunity to make Ethan understand her point. "Yeah. So like she said, no self-loathing okay?"

Ethan felt like crying right then and there. How did these guys even manage to walk up to him like that? And say all those things, and choose to remain there with him? He couldn't understand it. But oh, was he so, so grateful for that. Even though inside he thought he would burst into tears, Ethan only gave a sad smile to them, softening his eyes as they pooled with tears. "You both are crazy, do you know that?" Seb laughed. "Of course that's what you'd say." Zora pouted, a sad glint behind her eyes. "Last night... It was really fun. Thank you. I just don't think my size will allow for it to happen again, though." "Hey, in the end Zora made the right call." "It's just like I said before." - she rolled her eyes. - "Seize the opportunity, and all that." 'Because it was my last.' Ethan painfully remarked in his head.

[uzuicore]

POST-IT

pairing: levi ackerman x gn!reader (college!au and best friends to lovers!au) genre: fluffy cw: none summary: "i’ve been imagining law student levi ackerman and civil engineering y/n, they’re both college student and best friend as well. but they decided to rent a space or dorm for themselves since they both tolerate each other but the thing is they’re secretly in love with each other and confess their love at the end." a/n: @loveackerman hi ~ ^-^ here's your request! i loved writing this oneshot and i hope you also like it and have fun reading it! thanks for making this request! ❤️

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!

"What do you think of this new clock I bought for my desk?" you asked Levi as soon as you noticed him walking into the dorm you shared. "It was on sale."

After placing the backpack he was carrying on top of his bed, Levi then approached you to observe your new purchase. "It's nice, it matches the other decorations in the room," he ruffled your hair before turning his attention to some books. "Didn't you say you needed a new laptop though? It's more important for your studies, you shouldn't be spending money on unnecessary things," he remarked, making you feel embarrassed for being scolded by your best friend. This was a frequent occurrence, sometimes you felt as if you hadn't stopped living with your mother.

"I know, sorry," you pouted and embraced him from the side, irritating him, "I'll save money, I promise."

"Tch, whatever, just get off me, brat," he joked, pretending not to like your affection.

You giggled, squeezing his cheeks, a thing that only you were allowed to do without having your arm broken, and reminded him, "By the way, I have a project due in three days, it's from that annoying teacher, I need your opinion on what I've done so far!"

"And what help will I be? I'm a law student, I don't know anything about civil engineering, you idiot,"

"Don't even try to lie to me just so you don't help me, okay? We've been friends for a long time, I already know how smart you're in many topics," you protested.

Levi sighed shaking his head and said, "Fine, but let's look at this later, okay? We need to eat lunch first."

-

The sound of the alarm clock seemed distant when Levi finally woke up to turn it off. Taking a glance at you, he recognized how exhausted you looked from having spent the night studying and how deep you were asleep.

Carrying on with his morning routine, making as minor noise as possible, Levi finished eating his breakfast, and before he departed, he grabbed a blue Post-it and left a message for you, next to your phone.

"(Y/N),

You stayed up late studying, I remember you saying that class today wasn't that important, so I let you rest.

There's food in the microwave. Eat well and rest."

With a few hours left before the sun went down, Levi was still in the library studying with a close friend of the two of you, Hange, when his phone rang.

"So, who called you, shorty? (Y/N)?" Hange raised a question as soon as Levi put the device in his pocket and started putting away his notebooks.

"No, my idiot uncle," he answered, now standing up.

"Oh, I thought it was your worried girlfriend," Hange mocked. "You shouldn't be gone so long without telling her where you are, you know."

Rolling his eyes and leaning on his hands on the table to face the bespectacled woman, Levi clarified irritated, "Stop with the teasing, you know it makes (Y/N) uncomfortable, shitty glasses. And I already told you, we're not dating."

Throwing the pencil she held on the table and crossing her arms, Hange expounded, "Seriously, Levi, the display of affection between you two, even when you're in public, doesn't seem like friends, you know? It's obvious that you're in love with each other but you're afraid to confess it. I'm just afraid that this situation will end up delaying both of your love lives," she concluded.

"What do you mean by that?" Levi inquired, not caring if he sounded bothered by what his friend had declared.

"There're a lot of guys who're into (Y/N), and they just don't approach her because everyone thinks you're together. Even your mom thinks so!" Hange exclaimed.

-

The clock marked 2 am and you still hadn't managed to sleep, the lamp on the other side of the room indicated that your best friend was also still awake.

"Did Hange disturb you so much today that you can't sleep?" you joked, turning to face Levi, and were surprised to see him sitting on his bed.

He gave a subtle sideways smile before responding, "Tch, I wish that was all."

Getting up and going to sit next to him, you then hugged him from the side resting your head on his shoulder, an act you were wont to do only with Levi, and voiced, "You've been acting weirder than usual since you got back from the library, did something happen that you don't know how to tell me?"

The gentleness with which you spoke and acted with Levi when you knew he was bothered by something always impressed him, it's as if the sweetness in your voice made him automatically open his mouth and tell you everything that was on his mind, even when he didn't want to.

"Kenny called," Levi shared. "My mom's sick again. Only this time I won't be able to come home and take care of her."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you lifted your head so you could look at his face. "But your mom will be fine, she's strong. Everyone in your family is, right? She just needs to take the right medicine and rest, like she did the other times."

"I know, (Y/N), but the other times I was there to make sure she was going to do it," Levi repeated running his fingers through his hair.

Holding his face with your hands and forcing him to look you in your eyes, you assured him, "But this time you won't. Your uncle is your mother's brother, remember? He wants to see her well too. We both know that as annoying as he can be, he knows how to be serious and take care of someone when the situation calls for it. Kenny will take good care of your mom, just ask him to update you every day on her situation so you can rest easy, okay?"

Placing his hand over yours, which was still on his cheek, Levi massaged your delicate skin and thanked you.

"So, is there anything else or do you think you can sleep now?" you asked pulling away from him.

"Tch, you speak like you weren't awake too," Levi retorted.

"That's because I was worried about you, asshole!" you defended yourself and slapped his arm playfully.

"That week you were freaking out about your project... And you were having trouble sleeping," Levi started and paused.

"What about it?" you questioned, curious why he was bringing up this old subject.

"My bed's a little bigger and you slept here. You said... It made you more comfortable," Levi concluded.

Comprehending what he wanted to request from you, you pondered about teasing him as Hange would do, but seeing how vulnerable he was at the moment, you just told him to lie down and give you space to do the same.

Lying under the large white comforter facing each other, you noticed that Levi still seemed bothered by something. You were used to sleeping next to each other when one of you was feeling unwell, but this time seemed different.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" you invited in a whisper.

Still observing you with a frown, Levi took a few seconds before letting out, "Everyone thinks we're dating."

You chuckled, replying, "Yeah, I know that. Hange always picks on us about it. Just ignore everyone," you shrugged.

"She also said that our displays of affection aren't platonic," Levi added.

"Yeah... Hange says a lot of things, Levi-"

"(Y/N)," he interrupted, making the smile on your face crumble when you realized how serious he seemed about the subject, "do you think I'm a burden to your love life? Do you like someone?"

"Did Hange put that in your head too? She told me the same thing these days, you know?"

"Tch, just answer... Please."

"You're not a problem for my love life, if I have to stop being your friend to get a boyfriend then I don't want one," you expressed.

Levi rolled his eyes and exemplified, "You know that's not how it works, dumbass. Do you think your boyfriend would believe that we're just best friends if he saw you lying here with me? Do you think he'd believe that if he saw the way you hug me all the time?"

Troubled by the matter, you confessed, "Well, maybe I don't care about any of that because I don't want to hug or lie next to any guy other than you!"

The sound of heavy breathing from the two of you was the only thing that could be heard inside the dorm, until Levi worked up the courage to bring his hand to your cheek and caressed it, asking, "Did you really mean that?"

Examining deep into his grayish-blue eyes, you confirmed, "Y-yes."

Offering you one of his rare smiles, Levi brought his face close to yours and placed a gentle kiss on top of your eyelid, and joked, "Tch, you idiot, I should have confessed first."

Returning the smile, you inquired, "Does that mean you've fallen in love with me too?"

"Isn't it obvious? I don't want to have moments like this with a girl other than you either."

© UZUICORE ON TUMBLR AND WATTPAD. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, EDIT OR TRANSLATE.

[sourcreammachine]

REFORM PARTY "MANIFESTO" 2024 SUMMARY

they say it ain't a manifesto even though it is. they're tryna pretend they're not politicians even though they are. their reasoning is that they know they won't be the next government, so this is what they'd push for as opposition members - just like in the manifestos of the greens, SNP etc. but anyway, this "contract" of theirs is scant and they're running a vibes-based campaign. you don't need to see any actual policies, no no no. you already know if they're for you or not. oh, and if you think they're for you - just like all far right parties, they ain't: they're for capital, they're for vested interests, they're for cruelty. they're for the classic quasi-accelerationist burnout cycle that'll weaken the base of society and the economy and ruin fucking everything. but hey, at least there won't be no immigrants. i'm so sorry if you see them as the future: they're taking you for a ride just as you've been used time and time again, because there is no clearly accessible political solution to improving your material conditions as current politics stand, i'm sorry - that is, within the paradigm you know - there're answers just outside the tunnel-vision you've been forced into. why not take a look sometime. who knows, you might find some hope.

i'm not shitting you, though. the manifesto is not long. go read it. see for yourself the draconian horror they advocate, and will push for these five years, and will endorse with the hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of Short Money coming their way after they get into parliament. this isn't a 2015 UKIP moment, a single-issue agenda that'll flame out. even if they fail in their 2029 campaign with no votes against the tories to count on, these ideas and their influence are here to stay for the medium-term now. even if we remove the rosethorn it'll keep bleeding and bleeding and bleeding

yeah, on account of the scantness, these policies are vague. they're much more like ideas rather than proposals. the general nonsense of them has been fact-checked time and time again so i won't bother. here's just a summary of their rambling ephemeral suggestions

💷ECONOMY

revoke benefits after four months, MANDATORY acceptance of the second job offer on pain of benefit revocation, make all eligibility capability assessments in-person, mandating medical assessments, to catastrophically reduce disability benefit entitlements

raise the personal allowance to §20k/a, cutting individual taxation by §1600/a. raise it to §25k for the married

raise the second band of income tax from about §50k to §70k cutting an ABHORRENT amount of tax from the upper-middle class, far far far far far more than the tax cuts on §20k-earners

leave the World Economic Forum, plummet corporation tax from its already international tax-haven low levels, abolish any business tax for "high-street based" small businesses to create a new class of fat cat burghers, VAT refund for businesses making under §150k/a profit no matter what it is they're flogging

revoke european trade agreements and collapse trade with the mainland

massive tax breaks for defence contractors

'frontload' the child benefit system, plunging it after the child turns four

pour money into giving tourists a full refund on VAT

surge the inheritance tax threshold to §2m BUT "allow the money to be donated to charity instead" (ie allowing massive loophole scams)

massive deregulation, including on the regulation of business and employment laws as "we must make it easier to hire and fire". the manifesto also whines about "6700 eu laws" that still stand, but whines and moves on, implying a mass unbounded deregulation of industry

🏥PUBLIC SERVICES

abolish the NHS and replace it with a private voucher system

catastrophic austerity: every government department to be removed of a 5% of its funding that it must account for itself, reducing spending across the board without central planning or oversight

catastrophic statecapture: abolish civil service leadership and replace them with politicised government appointees "from the private sector"

catastrophic hike on university entry requirements and mandate many be cut to two years

catastrophic privatisation of the remaining public healthcare with surge in outsourcing and contracting, 20% total tax relief for private healthcare

statecapture the BBC with full nationalisation

comprehensive curriculum audit to impose "patriotic education": mandate "any teaching about a period or example of british or european imperialism or slavery must be paired with the teaching of a non-european occurrence of the same to ensure balance", teach children about "their heritage"

public inquiry on "the harm of vaccines"

leave the WHO

end the exemption private schools from the 20% VAT. wait, wait no hang on i've got that wrong. oh right yeah, that's labour's policy, sorry. reform says to impose a 20% TAX RELIEF ON PRIVATE SCHOOLS. sorry peasants, your tax money is funding Eton now

🏠HOUSING

catastrophic tax breaks for small landlords

revoke the renters reform bill

abolish stamp duty (the tax on the buying of homes) under §750k and plummet it above that mark, allowing obscene wealth transfers, massive property buyup, catastrophic housing supply saturation, and the annihilation of first-time buying

🚄TRANSPORT ?

ban and abolish low emission zones

ban and abolish low traffic neighbourhoods

ban and abolish all 20mph zones except outside schools

lower petrol tax

👮FORCE

abolish the human rights act

abolish the equality act

leave the european convention on human rights

freeze "non-essential immigration", and they do not elaborate what they mean or what the policy definition is to be. so they're just gonna be rambling about ephemera to kingdom come. that's the game they're playing

10% HEAD TAX ON IMMIGRANTS via additional national insurance charge

REVOCATION OF CITIZENSHIP FROM IMMIGRANT UK CITIZENS COMMITTED OF CRIMES, without specifying whether or not this applies only to dual-citizens, meaning reform supports the mass imposition of STATELESS status, A GRAVE AND ABHORRENT CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY

invade france. i'm being serious. they'd intercept and arrest small-boat crossers and 'take them back to france', violating french territorial sovereignty on both land and sea via the use of force, gravely violating international law against our neighbour

FORTY THOUSAND new police in five years, around 25% more, massively prioritise pipelining ex-military officers and enlistees into the police, abolish PCSOs and make them regular broken-windows police

labour camps for young offenders

create a US-style coast guard and begin routine patrols for migrants or foreign fishers

surge armed forces funding by the highest amount proposed by any party

"stop Sharia law being used in the UK", ie draconian monitoring of mosques, muslim community organisations, the palestine movement, and any muslim

absolute prohibition on asylum applications from "safe countries", sentencing desperate seekers to political persecution and death by mere categorical definition

increase stop-and-search powers, mandates and centrality in policing tactics, pursue broken windows policing,

MANDATORY MINIMUM OF LIFE for second violent/serious offences or ANY drug dealing, new offence for 'substantial possession of drugs'

catastrophically demolish the legalised definition of hatecrime to de facto prevent its use for any prosecution

mass prison building, convert disused military bases into prison camps

bad internet bill: massive inquiry into 'child social media use' (under their watch requiring catastrophic restrictions), renew the online safety bill as "social media giants that push baseless transgender ideology and divisive critical race theory should have no role in regulating free speech"

abolish the northern ireland framework, seemingly unilaterally, paving the way for a hard border and blowing the starting whistle on The Troubles 2

speaking of which: exempt the armed forces from human rights law

catastrophically plummet the number of student visas and prohibit international students with dependents

end funding for european defence programmes. sorry estonia looks like you're lost. oh also "the west provoked putin" so there's that

require the licensing of foreign trawlers in the eez, beginning a cold war with iceland

halve international development / foreign aid funding from its already tiny budget, with specific mention of "global quangos" (literally how many centuries has it been and antisemitism is STILL invoked by these pillocks)

🌱ECOCIDE

repeal every penny of green investment

abolish all emissions targets including for all public services

abolish all renewable energy subsidies

mandate the use of fertile land for farming, ban natural england from protecting 'farmland' land, end and ban all rewinding programmes

abolish environmental levies

catastrophic surge on oil/gas licensing and open new lithium and coal mines, and support biomass/biofuel

🗳️DEMOCRACY ?

begin trumpist restriction on the ability to vote

abolish all postal voting apart from the elderly and disabled

keep voter ID

"legislate to stop left-wing bias and politically correct ideology"

proportional commons and elected senate

🏳️‍⚧️REACTIONARY AGENDA not otherwise covered

for all transgender schoolchildren who have not been permitted a gender recognition certificate: prohibit the use of correct pronouns by any teacher, prohibit the recognition of social transitioning by any teacher, and require mandatory outing to their parents

ban all unisex toilets

"cut funding to universities that undermine free speech", with no clarification, meaning they get to bully anyone they chose

abolish the public health observatory on racial health disparities

look, yeah. the manifesto is short, their purview is open. the door is not shut. everything is on the table. their one, two, three or more MPs are going to be using your tax money to advocate anything and anything that harms migrants, queer and trans people. nonwhite citizens and any annoying political movement can and will be fair game for total attack and political annihilation. wherever the transphobic tornado goes next they will join in. it is going to be a dangerous time for us. they are going to push for absolutely anything they can to harm trans people. your country. your money. your responsibility to fight them. that is what democracy is

[ms-erin-kallus]

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down

Chapter 17

AO3 link ~ https://archiveofourown.org/works/44541196/chapters/141874393

Why bother with this? She is just one less Imperial for the rebels to contend with.

That intrusive thought disappeared before it even finished as Kallus realized that he was one dead end away from ripping the Empire apart with his bare hands until he either found Rhoan, or ended any and everyone even remotely associated with both that day and the commodore.

Since his arrival on Lothal, all Kallus seemed to know was failure. One encounter after another, the Ghost and its crew evaded him with what seemed like an almost unnatural ally on their side. The laws of physics literally bent to their favor in front of his eyes and allowed them to escape from what should have been certain capture. It was at that moment he knew that he would never apprehend them.

With each defeat, he was left behind to look like the inept imbecile that he was beginning to feel that he really was. AWOL might have been the perfect cover to easily make her disappear, but with his skills, training, and resources he should have been able to find at least something.

It felt like she had simply been erased from existence.

Suspiciously, not a single ship left the dome the entire night before. The hangar captain in charge was telling the truth when he said that there had been no air traffic from late evening until early that morning. Even with the barrel of a blaster shoved down his throat, he made it more than obvious that the he didn’t know anything.

Though Kallus was slowly beginning to rectify who and what he had been, he knew for certain that he was already too corrupted for any hope of a complete transformation.

Concessions would always be made when he deemed necessary.

However, he realized that differentiating those necessities would prove a difficult task while he watched the trembling man fumble his way back to his feet from the floor where Kallus had shoved him. The lack of effort needed to coerce the traumatized officer as he threatened to scatter each of his children, by name, to different prison camps across the galaxy was almost second nature to him. It was a feeling of control and superiority that he previously relished, almost as if it was a necessity.

Reflexively and without realization, Alexsandr Kallus let the well practiced Imperial permanently ingrained into him do what it did best.

~

Assault was a minor offense. Granted, it was against another officer, but still, something didn’t add up. If anything, Kallus assumed Rhoan would simply be made an example of. Pryce had been off planet long enough for things to become more relaxed than she probably appreciated and punishing an officer was the perfect way to put everyone back in line. Except, that was hard to do if the defendant was nowhere to be found.

The comm next to him chirped and he grabbed it so fast he was surprised that it didn’t shatter in his hand.

‘I can’t find a single thing’ R3 wrote. ‘This doesn’t make sense, I hacked into every file in this dome and found nothing. They paused, ‘Sitringlato’s datapads and comms were suspiciously clean…like they had been wiped.’

Though a machine, Kallus could sense the dread in the droid’s words, “I’ve been going through every unconventional idea that I can think of,” he offered. Someone had to have seen something,” he responded as his head fell heavily into his free hand. The only plausible explanation he could come up with for as to why there was nothing to be found, was if things went as high up as he was afraid they had.

If so, there wouldn’t be much he could do. An ISB title could only get him so far.

‘I’m about to break into communications records, but I’m sure they were smarter than that.’

I know, Kallus thought because he too had been that careful in the past. “I’m going down to the public spaceport, maybe they took her off planet and used a civilian facility to cover their tracks.”

Silence.

‘If they took her off world we will never find her.’

I know.

~

About half an hour later, Kallus towered over a nervous spaceport supervisor that had been on vacation and returned at the worst time possible.

“I’m telling you,” she stuttered, “there is no record of anyone going out last night. There’s an orbital blockade right now. That means extensive paperwork for any and all traffic,” she paused before giving him the answer they both didn’t want to hear, “what you’re looking for just isn’t here.”

The woman visibly shook as Kallus glared down his nose at her, completely indifferent to the fact that she was a civilian and oblivious that the person he was fighting to overcome had again returned the instant he heard ‘I don’t know’.

He was tired of not knowing. He was tired of things being out of his control.

He was just tired.

“Then I want to speak to every single person that was within the facility last night. Now!” he growled. Time was quickly becoming an enemy, but he realized as he looked down at the distressed woman that mistakes were easily made with nervous, and thus, preoccupied minds.

“Yes, sir. It may take a little time to get everyone back here though,” she told him as she used the clipboard in her hands as a reason to look away from his unintentional scowl, “shift has already changed.”

Of course it has.

“Get them here promptly,” he said with as much patience as he could summon, “and comm me once they start coming in. I have another matter to tend to and won’t waste time here waiting.”

I can’t.

~

The detention block of the dome was as full as it usually was. No one ever bothered to notice droids unless something went wrong and they needed a scapegoat or some jerk needed to release some pent up aggression, so as usual, R3 simply rolled in to take a look around unimpeded.

Just as they dreaded, a thorough investigation of the main terminal at the level’s control panel yielded no results.

A series of beeps that Rhoan would’ve chastised them for rang down the hallway as they slammed their grasping arms against the paneling in frantic frustration.

An unnerving feeling that surged through their components from the moment they learned that she was gone steadily grew with every attempt that ended without the information that they desperately needed. R3 had seen the Empire make people disappear for less, but they had a feeling that this was different. It was personal and sinister, and the embarrassed commandant had something to do with it; they just knew it, and that terrified them.

And so, regardless of the main terminal’s lacking, every single console that sat to the side of their respective hold was scoured individually and meticulously using tactics not taught to them by the Empire. When that led to no result, R3 checked them again even though they knew what they would find.

Where is she?

They dared not ask anyone for anything, lest they garner unwanted attention. The last thing they needed was to stave off questions that didn’t pertain to her and only her.

R3 rolled back and stared at the lift at the end of the hallway, I’m not staying here without her.

“Hey, droid!” someone yelled from behind them, “let me out, why don’t ya?”

The little green machine turned and blinked at the twi’lek apathetically, “what are you in for?” they entertained.

“Does it matter?”

“Not really,” they answered before they turned and rolled to the lift.

“I’ll throw you in the incinerator myself if I get out of here!” the man yelled. “Fucking useless ass machine!”

“You mean useless ass free machine,” R3 beeped back as the lift doors opened and they boarded, headed for the workshop.

It was time to take a high risk chance.

~

Kallus used the time he spent waiting for the spaceport staff to arrive to look through the surveillance videos of the dome again. Sometimes he wondered if their lack of cameras in important places was as detrimental as he assumed.

It was.

Conveniently for whoever was covering their tracks, everything was gone. Imperial security blamed a rebel hack that caused a ‘catastrophic domewide outage’ that also somehow managed to last all night. The uneasiness that had crept into him from the moment he caught her outside of the base had exploded into full blown panic from the question, or worse, answer to, who would have that kind of authority and how did they get away with it so easily?

But mostly,

why?

There were outside servers where all recordings were kept for instances just like the one he was in. It was packaged as a ‘safeguard’, but in reality was just another way to cover up any and everything that needed to be.

Though he was ISB, even he didn’t have access to them.

Regardless, a favor was called in as he was finally forced to face the fact that whatever he was dealing with, it was much bigger than he was. The more time that went by the more confused he became, and the anxiety from it was physically manifesting itself deeper into the pit of his stomach as time went by.

“Agent,” a meek voice came from his side and jerked him from his thoughts. “The first has arrived. Where would you like to start?”

Kallus sighed uneasily because he already knew what he was going to find, he just dreaded having to come to terms with it fully.

“Find me somewhere quiet…and out of sight.”

~

As expected, no one saw anything unusual. If any of them were actually lying, they needed to be recruited because one person actually threw up from their fear. Again, he lost control and inadvertently slipped back into latent routine.

A handful of ships went out, but the documentation was meticulous and matched all corresponding surveillance videos,

unless she was smuggled out unchecked.

Bribery wasn’t an uncommon problem in the transportation industry. It was actually one of the most corrupt, and the possibility that someone ‘looked away’, and that he would find them in time, was a possibility that he clung to like a scared child to the safety of its mother.

By that point he was questioning everything, no matter how trivial or improbable. Nothing was going to slip by him.

Every ship’s manifest was handed over without question or hesitation and Kallus ordered each cargo load be thoroughly inspected and its results immediately relayed back to him upon its arrival under the threat of death.

Lasan was no secret, but it also wasn't exactly accurate; however, not many people knew that. Nor would they.

~

Reluctantly, Kallus was forced to pull himself away from his office where he had all but barricaded himself into, and the conversation he was in with R3, for a hangar where a ship waited to take him to a last minute, mandatory briefing with Thrawn and Pryce on the Chimera.

With a thousand thoughts running through his mind he didn’t notice the grating voice that yelled out his name from behind him. Instantly, a barely controllable rage made his veins burn with coursing fire.

“Agent Kallus,” the commodore called out again as he slowly sauntered toward him, “wait up.” The man smirked at a custodial droid that was quietly sweeping the floor in front of him before he suddenly pulled back and launched some sort of drink container that he had just finished straight at them as hard as he could.

The machine let out a series of loud, confused beeps when the bottle purposefully missed the basket attached to its front and instead hit them in the face with a hard, loud clank.

Sitringlato simply laughed as Kallus pushed past him. “You know-,” he started as he glowered straight back into the commodore’s amused eyes. It took everything in him to not add a bruise to the collection Rhoan had left behind when he picked the bottle up and faced him. “I see that your assailant has gone AWOL.” From what Kallus had learned of the commodore, he could easily use the man’s hubris against him. Just a subtle nudge and subliminal suggestion would be more than enough to get him to brag about anything he could use to find Rhoan.

Stringlato scoffed loudly, “Looks like she decided that running was her best option. She really has no idea how badly she fucked up. Stupid bitch.”

Kallus finally snapped.

Malicious intent flashed through his eyes and he knew the surprised commodore understood it as he suddenly stormed toward him.

Hands searched frantically behind him as the man stumbled, panicked from what he saw as an undoubtedly fatal threat until he found himself trapped against a wall.

“No, you don’t know how badly you just fucked up,” Kallus said down to him quietly before he smashed the bottom of the bottle he still held against the wall just above Sitringlato’s head. Pieces of the heavily reinforced glass exploded around them as the bottle easily shattered under the sheer force from with which it was viciously hit.

If it was going to take an Imperial to beat an Imperial, then that’s what was going to happen.

“You ca-“ the commodore started before Kallus slammed his fist into the wall on the opposite side of the man’s face hard enough that it left a permanent indentation.

On its impact, Kallus knew that he broke more than skin as, even through the immense volume of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, he felt an all too familiar burn as a small trail of blood fell from the gash in his damaged knuckle.

Beads of sweat quickly accumulated across the reddened skin of Sitringlato’s face as he realized that he was trapped between a fist planted firmly into the wall on one side of him and the broken end of the bottle held precariously at his throat on the opposite.

“I will only ask this once,” Kallus threatened down into the panicked face marred by an array of swollen, colorful contusions. “Where is she?”

Sitringlato yelped when Kallus pressed a sharp edge of the glass into the skin just above the major artery that pulsated rapidly in sync with his risen heart rate. “I don’t-“ he started before he felt it slowly permeate his skin. “I’m serious! I don’t know!”

Kallus menacingly began to turn the neck of the bottle so that its sharp point would also, “I don’t believe you,” he told him as he pushed his weapon further inward. “You know, it’s a common misconception that bleeding to death is a calm process,” he said as if their conversation was merely simple discourse. “You actually suffocate. No blood to pump,” Kallus paused as he watched the crimson line that disappeared down into the Imperial’s collar grow heavier, “no way for oxygen to circulate.”

Terror shot through the commodore’s eyes upon his new found knowledge and he instinctually tried to roll under Kallus’ arm to escape what he knew wouldn’t end well for him, but he didn’t get far.

“I don’t think so,” Kallus scoffed as his hand quickly left the wall and caught the man by his throat before he slammed him hard enough against the wall that it knocked the breath out of him. A yelp echoed down the empty corridor when he felt Kallus jab the broken end of the bottle into the side of his already battered face, hard. “I will give you one more chance.”

After a length of silence that Kallus deemed ‘too long’, but was in actuality a few seconds of hesitation, the pointed glass sliced easily through the softened skin of his injured eye.

“I wonder how much a bruise can bleed?” Kallus asked as he slowly looked from one side of his mangled face to the other. “I’ll start here,” he said more to himself than his victim as he dropped his free hand from the wall and grabbed the man’s chin violently.

“Okay! Okay!” Sitringlato shrieked, the cry muffled by the pressure on his throat, as Kallus carved deep enough into the man’s face he felt bone. “I’ll tell-“ he started before the man screamed loudly from what Kallus knew was a blinding, searing pain. If the man didn’t tell him what he wanted to know, truthfully, he would simply move to slice nerves until he did.

A door behind them whirred open and someone said something that Kallus couldn’t make out through the pounding in his ears. “This is ISB business, so unless you are also from the bureau, I advise you don’t make yourself a witness to this or it will be you next!”

The door quickly shut and the commodore used Kallus’ briefly unfocused attention to try another haphazard escape. It proved quickly a massive mistake on his part because he instead only managed to clumsily fall to his knees in front of an infuriated man that had finally reached his limit.

Terrified, Sitringlato scampered back against the wall and turned his bloodied face away as Kallus knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered as he put his hands between them as some sort of useless shield.

“I’m not,” Kallus said coldly as he slapped the man’s hands away and grabbed his jaw to yank his face directly into his own. Wild eyes looked back at him, “this is for her,” he told him quietly as his free hand slipped behind the commodore’s head and grabbed a handful of hair.

A loud sound of snapping vertebrae filled Kallus’ ears with virulent delight when he quickly and efficiently jerked his hands in opposite directions. The murdered body slumped over onto the floor as Kallus stood and looked down to the handiwork at his feet in disgust.

“I’ve heard that this Thrawn guy is a real piece of work,” Sitringlato’s voice rang through Kallus’ ears.

Instantly, he was pulled back into the reality that he loathed returning to, “yeah,” was all he could manage to say as the vision of a dead body falling from his hands played out again in his mind.

In time.

“At least they finally got someone around here that can do their job,” the commodore smirked as the lift doors closed between the two of them.

Yeah, the airlock is too good for him, Kallus thought as he waited for it to come back.

~

“You’re late,” Pryce snapped as she buckled herself into a jump seat across from the commodore and settled in theatrically.

Kallus wasn’t in the mood for her antics and was genuinely afraid that he would snap if she kept it up. “Apologies, governor. I had to wait for the lifts,” he said as he cut a sharp, inconspicuous look to the man at his right.

“Perhaps you should’ve left sooner?” the commodore openly, bravely, and with remarkable stupidity mocked him, either oblivious to or unconcerned by the warning thrown at him.

Kallus took in a long breath and steeled himself before he sat down in the seat directly next to him and buckled in haughtily.

The other man turned and began, “there are open seats everywhere, why-“ but thought twice of it when Kallus pushed his face, seething with potential retaliation, straight into his.

As the shuttle began its slow ascent, Kallus whispered to him ominously.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Sitringlato scoffed, “is that-,” he began pompously before Kallus reached over, grabbed the belt to his harness and yanked it as hard as he could without notice from an always preoccupied Pryce.

“Safety first,” Kallus chastised the suddenly silent man sarcastically as he continued to pull until he knew the strap was tight enough to make it impossible for him to breathe easily.

There was no response other than a muffled cough and Kallus assumed that the commodore was finally beginning to realize that he was prodding someone whose rank fell outside of the military hierarchy and, thus, didn’t have to answer to him.

An arrogant smile briefly crossed Kallus’ face as he let images from the hallway play out again in his mind, but with ‘improvements’.

Luckily, the flight to the star destroyer was short and before Kallus could abandon his plans and make good on his threat to end the man where he sat, he found himself on the bridge of the Chimera in front of an oversized star chart.

“Admiral Konstantine should be with us momentarily, grand admiral,” Pryce said apologetically as she looked toward the door in almost disgust at his tardiness. It hadn’t been long since she arrived, but anyone with eyes could see that the two of them hated each other, vehemently.

“It’s quite alright, governor. I doubt that he would have much to offer,” Thrawn answered in a cool, smooth voice. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

Kallus couldn’t help but notice that, from the moment they arrived, Thrawn studied the commandant’s bruised face intently. Rhoan had really done a number on his eye, as even after two rotations and numerous trips to the medical facility later, it was still swollen and every shade of blue and purple. Kallus hoped that every time he looked in a mirror, he remembered how it felt when he slammed to the ground as she unleashed her torrent of unadulterated rage upon him.

“Commandant,” Thrawn suddenly interrupted. “I must ask, what happened to you?”

Sitringlato stood up a little straighter before he replied pathetically, “I was attacked viciously by a fellow officer, grand admiral.” The Imperial popped his tunic and lifted his chin as he delivered his accusation. “It was unprofessional and completely unwarranted.”

A loud, unintentional scoff escaped from Kallus before he could stop it.

“You have something to add, Agent Kallus?” Thrawn asked inquisitively. Red, glowing eyes burned into him like the summer rays of Tattooine’s dual suns.

Kallus cleared his throat and chose his words carefully, “the commandant is leaving out an important part of the story,” he barely managed to say without indicating the fury that grew exponentially with his words.

“Which is?” Thrawn continued, carefully studying Kallus’ every facial and emotional cue. It took every bit of the training he had to remain perfectly stoic in front of the intimidating alien’s inquisition.

“The captain was provoked,” he said simply in an effort to give away as little as possible unless absolutely necessary.

“I would hardly call it a provocation!” Stringlato almost screeched; his pride obviously mortally wounded.

Thrawn looked him up and down slowly and carefully before he turned back to Kallus, “do continue, agent.”

“The commandant made a very reprehensible remark, and it deeply offended and hurt the captain. She reacted in a way that, yes, was in poor judgment, but also could be seen as justifiable given the circumstance.”

“I see,” Thrawn said slowly, internalizing and reviewing the new information. “Tell me, what did you say that would warrant such an” he looked over his shoulder to his aide behind him who whispered something without an exchange, “antagonism?”

The commandant became visibly uncomfortable in an instant when he realized that his remark could only go one of two ways considering the instigation’s existence was a result of his inquisitor’s aftermath. “I, um,” he started before he cleared his throat. “I made a reference that the citizens aiding and abetting the insurgency on Batonn weren’t as ‘innocent’ as they seemingly presented themselves to be.”

It appeared that Kallus wasn’t the only one that was watching his wording carefully.

Thrawn was unnervingly silent as he looked down at the commandant. His blue face steeled and his body language rendered him immediately terse. It was only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity before he finally spoke, his voice was flat and monotone, “civilian casualties should always be kept at a minimum. The preservation of life is important if we are to keep the citizenry complacent and compliant. Wouldn’t you agree, governor?”

The color drained from her already pale complexion and Pryce stuttered as she answered, caught completely off guard, “of course, grand admiral.”

Thrawn cut his eyes toward her in a way that made Kallus shudder.

“Always,” she added with some sort of feigned agreement.

Picking up subtle cues in conversations was another part of Kallus’ extensive training. Those cues were not subtle. Their exchange was definitely a reminder, or even reprimand of some kind.

“And where is the captain now?” Thrawn asked inquisitively as he looked over to Pryce. “I am to assume that she has been detained for her crime?” he asked, assuming that she would’ve been the one to hand down, or at least approve the process.

“She has been sent to Kessel,” the commandant said proudly before Thrawn turned and showed just a brief second of surprise on his usually expressionless face.

Kallus couldn’t stop himself from turning toward Pryce, barely able to keep himself composed, “are you serious? For minor assault?” The words he spoke aloud sounded more like soft murmurs in his ears as his head began to swim at the very worst scenario he could think of.

“This seems quite unnecessary. Why such a harsh condemnation?” Thrawn asked, genuinely perplexed. The aid at his side stood with his mouth agape in shock and a look of disgusted confusion on his face.

Pryce stepped in, “we needed to make an example of her. If people know that extreme measures will be taken, then it should quell any further insubordination among the ranks. Consider it a,” she hesitated, “preemptive warning for the others.”

“That seems hardly pragmatic, Governor. I’ve learned that the most conducive crews are the ones that are respected and appreciated, not terrorized. Those very reasons are why mine have been an invaluable tool in the many successes that we have had for the Empire.”

Kallus could barely speak through the dryness in his throat, “if she was to be an example, why was her disappearance so thorough?”

“Do elaborate, agent?” Thrawn asked as he looked to him from the pair at his side that had visibly lost the confidence they had prior.

“The captain is listed as AWOL,” he informed them, barely able to hear himself, much less anyone else, speak. “I feel like it’s hard to make an example when the offender is nowhere to be found.” A sudden deafening roar in his head began to make the room spin, “her punishment will go unnoticed; thus negating its intention, will it not?”

Sitringlato cleared his throat loudly as he pulled nervously at the collar of his tunic.

“Pull yourself together,” Pryce spit at him quietly as she tried desperately to deflect the answer that she knew she wouldn’t be able to defend.

“I see that your answer is hard to swallow,” Thrawn’s aid snarked under his breath as he began to quickly scroll on his datapad.

“There’s nothing there,” Kallus warned before he realized that he had. “All of her records are gone, along with her.” Rationalize that quick, Kallus screamed at himself through clouded thoughts. It was hard enough to keep himself together without blowing his cover, “I was beginning to build a case, but there is absolutely no information on this supposed sentencing that has been handed down.” Kallus could’ve strangled Pryce where she stood, in front of them all and without hesitation, because of his next words, “without its proper trial.”

Suddenly, the commandant fell to the floor and clutched desperately at his throat as his face began to turn a dark shade of red.

Kallus struggled to breath harder than the man writhing on the floor at his feet as purple dots began to litter his field of vision.

You couldn’t even find her, how are you supposed to save her?

“Call for a medic, Commander Vanto,” Thrawn instructed almost apathetically.

“What is wrong with you?” Pryce asked dryly as Kallus dropped to the floor before he could black out and quietly hid that fact when he reached over to the commandant to unseal the top of his tunic.

“Can you breathe?” he asked as he shakily took his pulse. The man was in severe tachycardia.

“The medics are on their way,” Kallus heard Vanto say in a thick wild space accent as he studied the man suffocating on the floor but offered him no real assistance.

Kallus leaned down and made it look as if he was trying to listen to the man’s erratic breathing.

“I told you so,” was the last thing the commandant heard before Agent Kallus watched him die.

[blowflyfag]

WRESTLING FURY: June 1989

OWEN HART BLAZES INTO THE WWF

Possibly a warning heralded too late but, beware World Wrestling Federation gladiators! He’s tried the rest, now he’ll take on the best. Just when you though professional wrestling an out of surprises, a pleasant breath of fresh talent has ventured down from the foothills of Western Canada to the highly publicized, mega-marketed wrestling organization operated by Vince McMahon, Jr. and based in Stamford, Connecticut. 

Although he has been touring the pro mat circuits for less than five years, many veterans of the grappling game already hail him as one of the best technicians ever to step into the ring. One former National Wrestling Alliance heavyweight champion has gone as far as comparing The Blue Blazer to the great Lou Thesz.

No matter how his performances are assessed, spectacular and superb are usually the first two words used to describe the moves he puts on his opponents. Even under a mask and fancy robes, the true identity of The Blue Blazer can’t be hidden. Owen Hart, of the famous wrestling Hart family from Calgary, Alberta, Canada already has gained a legion of faithful followers in the United States, hoping he’ll get a crack at the prestigious title belts recognized by the WWF. 

There’s no way the so-called brain trust of the WWF could have kept the Blazer’s identity a secret. The technical holds and acrobatic maneuvers executed with such perfection could only be administered by the youngest of the wrestling Hart brothers. 

[Owen was the North American Heavyweight champ in his native Canada.]

Before signing on with the WWF, Owen Hart was already recognized worldwide as a wrestling superstar. Some of his most exciting ring encounters took place in Japan. The style of wrestling in the Orient is much like that in Western Canada and the Japanese fans quickly grew to admire the young Hart, always more than anxious for his next return. 

The winning attitude that has enveloped Owen is due to having built-in-trainers. Keith, Bruce and Bret “The Hit Man” Hart, along with brothers-in-law Jim “The Anvil” Neidhart and Davey Boy Smith, have instructed Own from their years of experience on the ins and outs of what will not work to a wrestler’s advantage while in the ring. 

Owen’s father, former wrestling expert Stu Hart, who took on everyone from Gene Kinski to Joe Louis, has overseen his son’s entry in the limelight of the sport and is quite pleased with his progression. When asked by a fan as to when Owen would return to action in the Stampede Wrestling rings, Stu prideful replied, “Unfortunately he will not be available to us in the foreseeable future. I have tremendous respect for Owen, not only as a wrestler but as a son, a young man of whom I am extremely proud. I feel very strongly in my heart that Owen can make the same contribution to wrestling that Wayne Gretzky has made to hockey. To my way of thinking, if you can pardon my saying so, he is simply the best that there is in the game, both in and out of the ring.”

[As the Blue Blazer, Hart far outclasses most of the competition. (photo by Brown)]

With one highlight after another in Japan and Canada, where he held the North American heavyweight title several times, Owen Hart literally wrote his own ticket to the promotion that would financially satisfy him the most. When you are the best in the sport from a promoter’s and fans’ viewpoint, it is better to have the talented athlete on your team rather than opposing it. And, that’s exactly what the WWF did. Instead of letting the NWA or AWA get his name on a contract, the WWF recognized the endless amount of talent Owen Hart possesses and proceeded to add him to their ever-growing parade of stars. 

The question asked by fans throughout North America is why the mask? Perhaps the WWF hierarchy was afraid the young Canadian would outshine their number one superstars, such as Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan. Would Owen put either Hogan or Savage in the position that the fans would demand a showdown between the two? In Hogan’s case it wouldn’t be a great surprise how that confrontation would conclude. One is a wrestler known as an exciting ring tactician and one has been labeled a living cartoon. 

Thus far as the Blue Blazer, Owen’s abilities seem to have been toned down in the Federation. The majority of the Blazer’s matches fall into the preliminary category, usually the opening contest against the likes of men such as Steve Lombardi and Barry Horrowitz. Both Lombardi and Horowitz are well qualified to be labeled wrestlers and have always given their challengers a tiresome time in the ring. However, they aren’t in the same ballpark as Randy Savage or Jim Duggan as far as drawing large crowds to the arenas are concerned. 

[Here’s a look at a flying head butt done Owen Hart Style.]

The Blazer’s ring performance resembled the way the British Bulldog marched into the WWF five years back. Davey Boy Smith and Dynamite Kid plainly and simply outclassed and nearly embarrassed those who stepped onto the canvas against them. They made all the other so-called WWF athletes look effective. When the Blue Blazer entered the scene, the same scenario arose again. 

The mask, artificial identity and the fact of being delegated to preliminary mat action appears to have taken their roll on Owen Hart. This past Thanksgiving, as the Blue Blazer, he was caught off guardian submitted to Greg Valentine’s figure -four leg lock. Perhaps that unusual ending to his participation in the Survivor Series match should be taken as a signal that they (the WWF) may be destroying the confidence of wrestling’s newest hero. It was also during this exciting event that Owen suffered another injury that will prevent him from wrestling for a short time. 

Never quite a number one contender in the Federation but a man known to give you the fight of your life, “Iron” Mike Sharpe recently stated, “The best offense is a good defense when squaring off against the Blue Blazer. The suplexes, sunset flips and dives off the top ropes he does are incredible. His moves are carried out flawlessly. The Blazer is a thinking man’s wrestler.” He continued by saying, “He has to be careful when dazzling his challengers, the chances he takes in the ring are too risky to end in injury, if his mind wandered. Believe me, the Blue Blazer has all the ingredients to soon be the #1 contender for the Inter-Continental and Heavyweight championships.”

Will he or won’t he, hidden under a hood as the Blue Blazer, combine forces with his brother “The Hit Man” to pursue the WWF Tag Team champions? Should Jim Neidhart graciously step aside and give his blessings on the brothers to unite their wrestling energies, having the title belts put around their waists? That would be a mere technicality waiting to happen. 

[These aerial maneuvers are what makes Owen so great. (photo by Brown)]

It’s generally accepted by fans, promoters and wrestlers themselves that Bret and Owen are the two most best all-around wrestlers in the support of wrestling today. It’s almost a certainty that should the Hart Brothers be put in the same ring as Demolition, The Rougeaus or The Powers of Pain, record gate receipts will be achieved. The Harts aren't the largest or most muscular pair in the WWF, just the best schooled wrestlers on the group’s roster. 

In singles competition, just think of the Blue Blazer getting the opportunity to renew his feud with the Honky Tonk Man from their days when they both worked out of Calgary. When turned to Bad News Brown, the Blue Blazer is capable of knocking Harlem, New York’s wrestling thug down a couple of notches in the rankings. Without the mask on, in Canadian towns such as Edmonton, Camrose and Winnipeg, Owen Hart convincingly handed Brown pinning defeats. 

[Owen and his finance Martha have been doing some modeling in Canada

Owen’s body is rock solid perfect. ]

When battling world class competitors as Makkhan Singh, “Strangler” Steve DiAlvo and Comrade Jerry Morrow, as an athlete, Owen became a better professional. Stampede Wrestling out of Calgary has always been over stuffed with talented wrestlers who rely on their athletic ability to advance their career, not gimmicks to get them the necessary push to main event status. 

Biff Ellington, Johnny Smith, Chris Beneoit and Goldie Rogers are just a handful of respected grapplers that, along with Owen, have put Calgary on the international wrestling map of excellence. 

As the Blue Blazer in the WWF, Owen Hart isn’t asking for anything he isn’t deserving of. When the time comes and the Blazer is able to spread his wrestling wings, his ring actions will lead to many to say “I told you so.” Owen Hart has proven he is a winner, a dedicated professional and an all-around class act. After all, his wrestling roots are second to none. 

[loveerran]

Recent Events and Reactions

CW suicide mention, transphobia and hate: I am a trans woman who has been out and about for about 20 years presenting as myself in public. Things are so much better now in so many ways, though I do worry about the anti-trans laws being passed. Recently, the CEO of my beloved platform Tumblr melted down over a trans woman named Predstrogen. Predstrogen was perma-banned from Tumblr, and the CEO quite possibly misgendered her very nastily (I hope not) while failing to communicate well at the very least. But, far worse, he then stalked her to X/Twitter and harassed her there – apparently using his CEO power and privileged access to out certain sexually-themed handle names she used. Regardless of what she did to get the initial ban, that would be traumatizing, having a rich, powerful man follow you around on the Internet, using his power to harass and rail on you like that. I imagine she is wondering what else he might do to her now or someday when no one is watching, because I would be. I really feel that. It brings back my trans feminine fear of men who hate us. We get under their skin in some way and they have something to prove on us. That fear they will be angry enough to do something obviously not in their own long term best interest even if it becomes publicly known. The trans panic defense is still used to justify and mitigate these responses in legal settings. And that fear of a man, in a position of power, acting violently (physically or otherwise because of who we are), is real and it happens. I was a bit triggered. There have been a lot of trans woman beaten after being with a guy and he felt guilty or like he needed to assert his masculinity, let alone someone who is just angry at you for existing. There's been a lot of trans hate and also CEO hate going around on Tumblr, including people implying or actually wishing said CEO would commit suicide or 'lowtax' himself (which means die by suicide in this context).

But Matt is also a person, with a smart, inquisitive nature and a strong work ethic that has led him to do incredible things, like founding WordPress. Those accomplishments, and the many other social justice accomplishments he might cite, excuse nothing. Doing a certain amount of good doesn’t entitle us to doing a certain amount of bad. But our Heavenly Parents love him. He is a different person now than he was 20 years ago, and he will be a different person 20 years from now. I do not think it makes us better to wish death on someone, even when they have hurt us. And I do not blame Predstrogen for anything she may be feeling at this point, and I'm not saying she or anyone else owes forgiveness. I am saying that to turn the other cheek, to love and pray for those who despitefully use and persecute us, is hard doctrine and not easy to understand. But I also believe the world needs more of it. From all of us. Right now.

[cryptidsncurios]

AU: ODNOGLAZYY UBIYTSA

a.k.a.

That Modern AU Where Xigbar is a Russian Assassin Working for a Cult-Like Entity Known as Organization XIII / The Organization That Is Actually Secretly Run by an Even More Mysterious Entity and Boy Lemme Tell Ya It’s a Ride from Start to Finish

[[bio subject to change/additions if necessary]]

Name: Braig “Lock” Metkiystrelok (originally Luxu before his name change)

Codename: Xigbar, Number II, "Freeshooter"

Age: 45

Birthdate: May 22, 1979

Birth Location: Moscow, Russia

Ethnicity: Half Russian, half something else, but he hasn’t bothered to check

Languages: English, Russian, the majority of Spanish, some French

Height: 6′0″ (About 183 cm)

Weight: 180-ish lbs (About 82-ish kg)

Race: Human (apparently)

Sex / Gender: Cisgender Male

Sexual / Romantic Orientation:  Pansexual / Demiromantic

History:

Abandoned as a baby, left on the steps of an orphanage in Moscow, Russia, and dubbed “Luxu” upon his discovery, the first part of the child’s life was difficult, to say the least. Luxu started out life shy and polite, though as he bounced from foster home to foster home, even as a young child, he began to develop a far less friendly and more belligerent personality. 

At the age of 7 he was adopted by a man named "Mikhail Oleksandr Metkiystrelok." Mikhail was a strange, eccentric individual that Luxu quickly noticed to have a secretive nature, but as a parental figure could still be rather strict despite his ridiculous behaviors. Nonetheless, he demonstrated care and hope for Luxu's future, and Luxu picked up on that odd sense of humor.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall and as the Cold War continued, they abruptly moved to California in the United States when Luxu was 10. Mikhail had his name changed to “Braig Lock,” believing that might help him fit in better with his peers. (It’s like a combination of Brad and Craig okay shhh I know it doesn’t make any sense leave me be.)

Yet what should have been a joyous new chapter in their lives quickly turned to tragedy upon reaching American shores. Only a few months after their arrival, Mikhail disappeared under mysterious circumstances---assumed dead---leaving a traumatized Braig to be moved back into yet another foster home.

During his first few years in America, Braig experienced isolation from his peers due to his thick accent, and his teachers encouraged him to take some form of speech therapy. Being the adaptive child that he was, Braig quickly took to exaggeratedly mimicking the stereotypical “Californian” accent that he often saw on television and movies (and amongst a few choice neighbors, of course). He still did not particularly fit in and was often the victim of his larger roommates, but at least the “commie” jokes came to an end.

During his mid- to late-teen years, Braig was uncertain of the direction he wanted to go in life. He engaged in various delinquent behaviors that often got him into trouble with law enforcement, such as petty theft, defacement of public property, and just basically being a belligerent nuisance to society. He often displayed a seemingly (though, of course, entirely false) apologetic enough demeanor once he was caught, so that the worst he would get throughout his youth was a slap or two on the wrist.

However, upon reaching early adulthood, getting his GED with considerable ease due to his shrewd intellect (important to note that his teachers despised him for acing his classes despite his lack of attention), his lax demeanor when it came to obeying the law did not lessen as he began traveling the U.S. and bordering countries in search of purpose. He was consistently in and out of jail and prison, accumulating charges of DUIs, drug possession, vandalism, discharging firearms (multiple times), and numerous cases of disturbing the peace, totaling in well over a decade or so of his life spent incarcerated in separate increments. (The prison tats from this era are utterly epic, by the way.)

Unfortunately, this felonious behavior led to difficulty in actually finding work (he really tried, okay, it’s not that easy), and eventually—disrespect for the law his forte by this point—he began working under the table as an unlicensed private investigator, and he was damn good at it. Braig took on jobs that were considered too dangerous for other P.I.s, or that involved outright illegal dealings, and during this time he honed his body into a weapon, gaining scars upon scars as evidence of his dedication---as far as losing his right eye (which he continuously changes his story as to its loss)---and learning all the best ways to avoid confrontation with the law.

As his career unfolded, Braig began looking for even harder, more intense cases. Coincidentally related to one of his many clients’ cases (a client that, oddly, chose to remain anonymous---but how could he pass up the pay), he stumbled upon information regarding a highly secretive, highly dangerous crime syndicate that went only by the name “Organization XIII,” or, often simply “The Organization.”

And apparently, his adoptive guardian of so long ago seemed to be connected somehow---and Braig could only assume that the Organization was somehow responsible for his disappearance.

Delving even deeper, he learned at the head of this Organization was a man named “Xehanort,” and once his findings were concluded, Braig decided to take on this Organization himself—out of revenge for one of the few people that had ever taken a liking to him.

At last he believed he had discovered the hideout of the person named "Xehanort"—an old recluse hiding in an obscure hovel, and the puppet master over five murderous “apprentices,” as well as a vast network spanning the entire globe.

But he had been incorrect about finding Xehanort---instead discovering Mikhail behind the screens.

As it turned out, "Mikhail" was nothing more than one of the names the man had accumulated, and that his previous appearance was just a disguise. His “true” identity was simply "The Master," or, as the Organization knew him, "Darkness"---he who controlled entirely Xehanort's actions himself.

Thus, the Master announced that at last it was time for Braig to take up the reins, as he was sure he would so long ago---that he would now become "Darkness."

It was then that the Master disappeared once again.

Braig considered following the Master---attempting to wring more information out of him---and yet he could see hundreds of messages that had popped up on the Master's ever-active terminal.

And Braig---suddenly feeling as though this might be the answer to his ever-present question of his role in this world---responded to each and every message, thus beginning a new chapter in the tale of Organization XIII.

Now under the guise of “Darkness,” Braig—now going by the codename “Xigbar, Number II, 'Freeshooter' ”—was granted one of the primary positions in the Organization, underneath Xehanort and his family. The other “apprentices” were informed that he had been a part of their ranks for an extensive amount of time, but he had yet to make his appearance for personal reasons.

No one questioned the explanation.

And no one questioned when he suggested they begin to accumulate new members—for the sake of expanding the global presence of the Organization.

And so continued the game, ever-onward---with no real explanation.

But isn't that how it always goes?

[neopuff]

title: cured & confused word count: ~3500 characters: beverly, calan, six, holiday summary: Agent Six meets Beverly Holiday for the first time. Again. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47957149

It’d been three weeks since she was cured.

Beverly Holiday was adjusting well to life as a regular person again, though the world was a lot different than how she remembered it. Rex and Rebecca did a nice job of explaining things to her - as she suffered through test after test after test - but Beverly couldn’t pretend she understood most of it. She had only just finished eighth grade when she went EVO and there wasn’t a lot of biology or mechanical stuff taught before she…left public school.

(A public school which, according to Rebecca, no longer existed. It was completely destroyed by an EVO and their district never got the budget to rebuild. Go figure.)

Now freshly eighteen and feeling not a day over fourteen, Beverly was in a very weird place. Rebecca wanted her to stay at Providence HQ for a few weeks so she could do regular tests, but Rex had been kind enough to suggest that she stay with one of his friends in a nearby town and he or someone from Providence would come pick her up once a week. It wasn’t bad. The Bowmans were really nice people and seemed sympathetic to what Beverly had been through. They were also happy to keep her being cured a secret - apparently Rebecca was nervous about announcing it publicly since she couldn’t reproduce the results.

Or something like that. Beverly couldn’t pretend she was paying attention to everything - she was too busy being reminded of all the sensations she’d forgotten about. As an EVO, she’d lost herself entirely - every thought and feeling was based on primal urges to eat and attack. She couldn’t remember any details of anything except a struggling need to get out. A desire for freedom was the only thing she could remember and when she thought about the memory too hard, it was like the walls would start closing in around her.

Rebecca (and Claire, who Beverly was really getting along with) had taught her some breathing exercises to help when those feelings cropped back up. It wasn’t easy, but she was just happy to be outside. Fresh air, yummy food, cold water, a fluffy pillow…being human again was nice. It was the nicest thing in the world.

It was a crisp October 21st - not cold, like it would’ve been up in Pennsylvania, but Rebecca didn’t want her sister moving so far away just yet - and Beverly was waiting outside Claire’s house for her pickup. Rex had been the one to come get her on the 7th and then Rebecca came to get her on the 14th, so she wondered absentmindedly if the enigmatic Agent Six would be coming this time.

He was one particular thing she didn’t have any understanding of. The first thing Beverly saw when she was cured was her sister all over this handsome, green man - so, obviously, Beverly was glad that her sister finally had a boyfriend. She’d always been really bad at dating so it was nice to see her so happy.

But then when Beverly asked about him or made comments or whatever, Rebecca would shut her down and tell her not to make jokes and not to say anything that might make him uncomfortable. It was strange. He must’ve been really, really shy. But they were sisters. If he was her future brother-in-law, then she wanted to get to know him a little better.

Plus. Well. He saved her life. Rebecca had made that very clear.

Beverly was disappointed to see a small Providence transport truck arrive just a few minutes later than planned, but smiled at the unmasked face that came around the side to take her bag and help her in.

“Hi, Captain Calan,” she said sweetly, happy to see a familiar face even if it wasn’t the precise one she was hoping for.

He gave her a nod and lifted her overnight bag with ease. “Hey there, Lil’ Holiday. How’re ya feelin’?”

Beverly started making her way into the back of the truck. “Good! Nothing weird. No nanite activity as far as I can tell.”

“Your sister’ll be glad to hear it,” he said. “She’s had one hell of a week, so that’ll certainly lift her spirits.”

“Oh?” She wanted to ask for more information, but knew from the last few weeks that almost everything Providence-related would not be discussed away from Providence. Everything was classified or highly sensitive or…just not discussable. It was annoying. “Well, this is supposed to be my last checkup before I move back home, so I hope she’s not too upset.”

Calan hummed in confirmation and closed the doors, announcing to his driver that they could head back. Sometimes Beverly felt a little bad that they went through all this trouble just because she didn’t want to be cooped up in a stark-white building full of soldiers and guns, but…well. It was only three weeks.

“Has anything exciting happened this week?” she asked casually as she buckled in. The drive would only be about a half-hour, so she wanted to get all the hot gossip she could before arriving. Calan was extremely professional, but if she was friendly enough then he might let some information slip about her favorite people.

“Ah…” he started, buckling into the seat across from her. “...yeah. Some stuff. I can’t really talk about it now, but your sister will fill you in, I’m sure.”

Beverly pouted, more curious than she’d been in a long time. He said Rebecca had had a bad week, and something exciting happened. Hopefully she wouldn’t arrive at HQ to find her sister with a broken leg.

They chatted about mindless things for the rest of the drive - most of what she wanted to know, she wasn’t allowed to, and all she could share with this adult soldier man were the comings and goings of teenage girldom which he obviously had no interest in. When they arrived at HQ, Beverly rejected his offer to escort her to Holiday’s lab and went off on her own, letting him take her bag to her sister’s quarters. She’d done the walk so many times already that she was confident she knew the way.

On her solo journey through the halls, Beverly spotted a familiar green suit in the distance and perked up. It was just the man she’d been hoping to see. “Agent Six!”

He turned around and stared at her suspiciously, shoving his hands into his pockets. Normally he didn’t like it when strangers shouted his name in public, but this girl couldn’t seem less threatening if she tried.

Beverly smiled and rushed over to him with a little wave. “Hiii! How are you?”

“...fine,” he answered with a moment of hesitation. “And you?”

She noticed that, but assumed it was because he didn’t really know how to act around her. There wasn’t exactly a code for the relationship between heroic-future-brother-in-law and recently-saved-future-sister-in-law. “I’m good! Excited for my last checkup. And I’m really excited to get back home!”

Six made a small noise of affirmation. He didn’t know who this teenager was, but clearly she knew him. He was still cycling through the benefits of bluntly telling everyone he interacted with that he’d lost his memories or trying to give out as little information as possible without first gauging their previous relationship. In this case, he had absolutely no clue. A girlfriend of Rex’s? But she was getting a checkup, so…a cured EVO, probably. He wasn’t used to cured EVOs being so overly friendly with him.

“I’m sure your family will be happy to see you again,” Six said, trying to keep things vague.

“Well, I mean, it’s just my mom,” Beverly said with a wave of her hand. “I asked Rebecca if she would come with, at least for a few days, but she said there’s no way she could get away after what you guys did for me. I don’t know. Sounds like your boss is kind of a jerk.”

He raised one eyebrow curiously. Rebecca, huh? Six was starting to get some idea of who exactly he was talking to. “He can be. Are you on your way to…Rebecca’s lab, then?” The name felt foreign on his tongue, like he wasn’t supposed to say it. He’d just called her by her title or last name (or flirty nickname) so far. Her first name seemed…off-limits. That didn’t make much sense, but it was how he felt.

Beverly smiled and clasped her hands behind her back. “Yup! You wanna come with? I’m sure she’d be happy to see you,” she said cheekily, knowing that Rebecca didn’t want her making comments about their relationship. That didn’t mean she couldn’t encourage them to spend more time together. He seemed to make Rebecca happy and after everything Rebecca had done for her, there was nothing Beverly wanted more than to see her sister happy.

Six furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what that meant. He hadn’t been able to really get a handle on his previous relationship with Dr. Holiday, but this girl (her sister, he was ninety-nine percent sure) was definitely implying…something. He wondered if it would be unethical to try and get more information out of her.

“I should confess something to you first,” he said suddenly, realizing they weren’t that far from the lab.

“Oh…” Beverly stopped walking and frowned. “Does the bad news have to do with you?”

He stopped just a bit ahead of her and turned around, a matching frown on his face. Someone had told her something, it seemed. “It does.”

“Did you guys break up?” she asked quietly, feeling bad. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

Six stared down at her and tucked away that question for later. Something to ask Rex about, since Holiday would undoubtedly pretend not to hear him. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. I recently lost my last six years of memory.”

Beverly’s expression turned to pure confusion. “Huh?”

“I don’t know you,” he said awkwardly, hoping she wouldn’t be offended. “I’m assuming you’re Dr. Holiday’s sister.”

“Wait, are you serious?” She walked up to him and hugged her arms in front of her. “You don’t remember me? Or…I’m sorry, six years?”

He nodded.

“That’s awful.” Beverly felt very guilty and very sad, and reached out to lay a pitying hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Agent Six. I mean, I missed out on a lot of years from being an EVO, but I can’t imagine what it’d be like to just suddenly forget everything.” She looked genuinely upset and pulled her hand back before he could get uncomfortable with the contact. “Was it ‘cause of your nanites or did something happen?”

“Science experiment gone wrong,” he said dryly, happy that she wasn’t touching him anymore. It felt strange to be pitied by a strange little girl, but somehow it wasn’t as annoying as when he got the same attitude from Holiday or Rex. Something about the distance between them - the fact that she clearly didn’t have the same type of connection with him that other people here did - made it not as bad. “Not sure if you’ve met Rex’s brother, but you can thank him.”

Beverly shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah, I met him. I’m really sorry.”  She started playing with her hands. “Do you want a hug?”

“No.” Six decided he wasn’t appreciating the pity anymore. “Let’s get you to the lab.”

It was only a two minute walk, but the uncomfortable silence between them made the time stretch exponentially. Beverly wasn’t sure what she could say around this version of the man who saved her life - who didn’t remember saving her life, and didn’t remember her or their brief conversations over the past month. He also probably didn’t remember her sister or Rex, which was the saddest goddamn thing she’d ever heard. But he was always kind of an emotionless, aloof guy, so it was hard to tell how he was feeling.

She assumed he was sad. But there was very little chance of getting that out of him.

They reached the lab and Six walked inside with Bev, a little curious why no one told him they’d be having an outside visitor. “Dr. Holiday.”

“Yes?” she called out, not turning around.

“You have a guest.”

Holiday seemed to consider what he said for a moment before turning around to see the two new additions to her lab. She smiled brightly immediately when she saw her sister, and then suddenly looked shocked and grabbed her cell phone to check something. “Oh, my God, Beverly - I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize what day it was!”

Bev walked over and hugged her briefly, then leaned back and shrugged. “It’s okay! Captain Calan picked me up.”

Rebecca sighed and pocketed her phone again, putting a hand to her forehead in frustration. “At least someone’s paying attention to the schedule. I’m sorry, Beverly, I just need to finish this and then we can get started.”

“It’s okay, I was planning to stay overnight, so take your time.”

Six watched the two sisters chatting and felt extremely out of place. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing. Standing there, waiting, was obviously not right. But he didn’t know if he should leave or say something else or…something he hadn’t even thought of yet. He stuck his hands into his pockets and looked around the room, even though he’d already spent plenty of time there over the past few days. He was on Day Seven of his new life and Holiday was still doing occasional tests on his brain despite Knight’s orders to stop. He didn’t mind, personally. They didn’t take long and they gave him an opportunity to spend more time with her. But they were probably fruitless. But if it made Holiday feel better, he’d keep showing up.

“Um…thank you for bringing her here, Six,” Holiday said, finally acknowledging the ninja standing by her door. “You don’t have to stay, I’m sure you’ve got other things to do.”

He took her hint and nodded. “It was nice meeting you,” he said to Beverly before taking a few steps out the door.

As soon as the door was closed again, the younger Holiday turned to her sister with her mouth open wide in shock. “Rebecca! What is going on?! Did he really lose all his memories? That’s insane!”

“Shhh,” Holiday responded with a finger to her lips. “Yes, he did. And yes, it is.”

“But, like…” Beverly played with her hands, trying to figure out how to properly word her questions. “He doesn’t remember anything? You? Rex? Providence?”

Rebecca sighed unhappily and guided her sister onto the exam table, realizing she wouldn’t be able to get her work done without answering some questions first. “He reverted back to about six years ago. Before EVOs, before Providence. Before all of us. Complete reversion. Doesn’t seem to be any chance of memory revival.”

“That’s awful,” Beverly said, repeating her words from earlier. “I’m…I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry, Rebecca.”

“I’m not the one who lost my memories,” Holiday said ignorantly, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, but…I mean, he was your boyfriend or whatever. And now it’s probably super weird.”

Ah. That’s what she meant. Holiday’s cheeks colored a little and she ran her fingers through her bangs. “That’s not…well. It doesn’t matter. It is super weird now, you’re right.”

Beverly frowned and held out her hand, shaking it a little so her sister would take it. After Rebecca obliged, Beverly squeezed it tight. “I’m sorry.”

Holiday sighed again and wished the breath didn’t sound so shaky. She was dealing. She’d already had her little breakdown about it and she was moving on with her life. But it was hard when someone was sitting there and reminding her of everything that went wrong. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?”

Rebecca squeezed her hand back. “No. Not really.”

Outside of Holiday’s lab door, Six was standing there, flush against the wall, too curious about their conversation to leave. He knew Beverly was a recently cured EVO and he knew that Holiday came to Providence because of that. He knew that, for whatever reason, Beverly thought they’d been dating prior to his memory loss - but no one else had said anything like that to him. And aside from the occasional tests, Holiday had gone out of her way to avoid any alone time with him. A man couldn’t be thrown so much conflicting information without wanting to know more.

Listening to the sisters, though, just left him feeling hollow. None of his questions were answered except for one little thing: Holiday was still uncomfortable around him and she didn’t think he’d ever get any of his memories back. Why were they even continuing the tests, then? Just for kicks? To toy with him?

Six exhaled through his nose and walked into the hallway. He needed to blow off some steam.

Back in the lab, Holiday went through the same questions with her sister as she did every week. And like the last three weeks, Beverly was looking to be a completely cured, normal teenage girl.

“The Bowmans have been really nice.”

Holiday smiled softly. “I’m glad. They came highly recommended from Noah, so it’s good to know we can trust that.”

Beverly smiled back, not sure why her sister wouldn’t trust Rex’s best friend implicitly to begin with, but she didn’t feel like asking about it. Claire had spent enough time talking to her about Noah and she really didn’t need to learn more. “So…what are you gonna do now?”

“About what?”

“Well, like…about Agent Six, I guess,” Beverly said quietly. “He still works here, obviously, but, like…can he do all the same stuff he did before?”

“Well…yes, pretty much,” Holiday answered. “He was in a very…unique line of work before working here. His skills haven’t gone away.”

“What line of work?”

Rebecca pursed her lips and blushed, trying to figure out how to answer that question. She did not need to tell her sister that the man she’d fallen for used to be a contract killer - that information would most certainly get back to her mother and she did not want to deal with that. “Um. Ninja…things.”

“What?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“You’re acting weird. Was he a criminal or something?”

“No, Beverly, just drop it.” Holiday glared at her sister. “He’s a very private person so I’d rather not talk about it.”

Beverly pouted and jumped off the exam table, swiping her hands across the thighs of her jeans. “Yeah, like that’s not a suspicious answer.” She put her hands on her hips and gave her sister a pointed look, then rolled her eyes and chose to move on. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Holiday ignored her sister’s expression and wrote some down the information she’d gathered on Beverly’s nanite status. “Are we supposed to do something?”

“Well…yeah. I’m moving back to Pittsburgh next week.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened and she turned to Beverly, almost bewildered. “Is that…really? Already?”

“We talked about this last week, Rebecca.”

“I know, it’s just…sorry. It’s been a hellish week and everything kind of blended together.” Holiday massaged her temple and sighed. “We can do whatever you want, okay? I’ll take the night off.”

“Yeah?” Beverly smiled excitedly. “That’d be awesome! We can go to the mall, or see a movie, or-”

Just as she was listing a bunch of fun activities they could enjoy on short notice, an alarm sounded throughout Providence HQ. She frowned at the blinking red lights around them and immediately turned to her computer.

“Holiday.”

She tapped her comm, ignoring Beverly’s complaints about how loud the alarm was. “What’s up, Six?”

“Salazar can handle this. You should spend time with your sister.”

She paused and turned to look at Beverly, who had her hands over her ears and was mouthing something obnoxious. Holiday smirked at her and pressed on the comm again. “Roger that, Agent. Don’t let anyone die out there.”

“Not planning on it.”

The alarm quieted down a minute later as Rebecca shrugged off her lab coat, laying it over her arm. “So…you said something about the mall?”

Beverly tilted her head. “Don’t you need to do work stuff?”

“They’ll be fine.” Holiday said with a smirk, heading towards the door. “Come on, let me go get changed and we can head out.”

“WOO!” Beverly cheered as she followed her sister. “I really need some new winter clothes ‘cause I am not prepared for Pennsylvania weather.”

Rebecca smiled down at her sister and let some contented warmth spread throughout her chest. The last week had been so awful and stressful and depressing - it would be nice to be reminded of how there was still one major part of her life that hadn’t been ruined. Beverly was back to normal, she was happy, and she was present. For five years, that was all Holiday wanted, and even if some things in her life weren’t working out…she was glad that this did.