#but this bastard has a way of injecting himself into peoples brains

[cringefail-clown]

No one asked yet so I feel the need to see, thoughts on dirk and jake?

my friend youve just stepped into a Projection Landmine

DIRK:

JAKE:

[theincognitomoth]

Wild Side

Pairing: Mr. Wolf x Fem!Reader (Stablished relationship)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5731

Warnings: Rough sex, mild language, bitting, scratch,ing knotting, praise kink, male!dom, fem!sub, first person POV.

Sinopsys: During a mission gone wrong, Mr. Wolf goes on a wild frenzy and ends up hurting his girlfriend. Out of guilt, he isolates himself in a dirty apartment, all the while his sweetheart is determined to prove he has nothing to feel Sorry for.

Since the Night Howlers' incident, Wolf refused to come out of his room. He also refused to let anyone else in, except for Snake, and he refused, above all else, to see me- And that stung far more than the bite mark shaped like his teeth in my forearm as I applied the flower scented infection cream.

Three months ago Diane came with a mission for us. It was simple at first: find a couple of missing citizens. But soon the conspiracy web spiraled so further down that mind controlled guinea pigs and a butt shaped meteorite sounded sane in the same sentence. 

Those people were targets of a cult- The Naturalists, they called themselves. They believed that the root of suffering came from the modern world. A normal group with this belief might have organized a hike or camping trip but, crazy bastards that they were, thought themselves justified to take people off the streets and inject them with a brain altering drug: The Night Howlers.

That cursed little purple capsule was the reason my boyfriend refused to see me, even after two weeks of the case closed.

During a chase he was shot with the substance. Even now my stomach ran cold when I remembered the look in his eyes- Desperate at first, and then feral mindlessness. He chased me prey, my heart pounded in my ears, all my blood going to my legs telling me to run, run, run. It was still a blurry memory, the way his fangs buried on my skin. It was sheer luck that saved me that day, and I dreaded imagining the other outcome. But whatever horrors my mind came up with, I knew Wolf's was much worse, leaving him to rot in his little den of misery. 

With a heavy sigh, I put on my clothes and marched out of the apartment, standing in front of Wolf's door yet again.

“Moe?” I knocked and waited for a response that never came.

This everlasting silence would drive me mad.

“I know you can't- won't see me right now, but could you at least say something so I know you're not dead and rotting on the other side of that damn door?” 

My words were harsh, I knew, and the corridor echoes made sure to slap me in the face with them. For his sake I kept those words in. I knew he was suffering, I tried to be patient, but the sting with each day of deathly silence left a bitter taste in my mouth and I had to let it out before it made me sick.

“I'm getting tired of this- I know you feel bad for what happened, but I swear, I'd rather get bitten again than for you to play dead. Please…”

I was certain my plea would fall on deaf ears until the door locks creaked. My heart was beating in my ears like drums, my eyes burnt from not blinking. The door opened to reveal a dark room, cold and smelling like an old pantry. Snake stood on the other side, looking at me with a frown deeper than normal. He was much better at hiding  his worry than me. 

“Go easy on him,” He said, slipping out of the door and holding it open.

“Is it too bad?” I whispered.

“Would be easier if he wasn't such a drama queen.” 

I forced out a chuckle.

“Thanks.”

“Don't mention it, just… Get him out of that damn apartment.”

A difficult mission, one I didn't know if I was up to, yet had to grab this precious small chance.

I walked into Wolf's apartment and closed the door behind me.

Some people prefer winter nights over nice summer days, but the state of his apartment was absurd. I adjusted my sleeves to cover my hands as the AC turned a city apart into a tundra, its blue glowing numbers being the only light source letting me see broad shapes. Wolf sat in the corner of the couch, wrapped around an old blanket with his face hidden in it. How much time did he spent day after day like this?

One of many food packages scrunching under my foot as I made my way towards him. His ears perked up for a second before laying flat against his head again.

“Moe…” He flinched.

I sat on the couch, arms length from him.

“Can you look at me?” The knots in my chest tightened further as the seconds stretched without a response. “... I miss you.”

Finally, thank Heavens, finally he looked up at me, those big sad eyes resembling an abandoned puppy. He stared for a short while, before sifting his focus to my forearm, covered by the long sleeve.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked, voice quiet.

“No.”

“Did you get an infection?”

“I didn't.”

“Scar?” 

“None.”

“Good.” He let out a shaky breath. “I've missed you too.”

There was a glimmer of the ‘him’ from before the incident when he smiled at me- My old Moe. But I blinked and it was gone. I reached for his hands into the blanket cocoon, but he winched away, covering it up with a chuckle.

“I haven't trimmed my claws in a while.”

“Since when do you trim them?”

“I- uh, started recently.”

“Moe…”

He shook his head, leaning further away from me with a frown.

“Stop. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He struggled to find words. I knew that angry look, but it wasn't aimed at anyone.

“Like you're the one who hurt me and not the other way around.”

When he stood up, so did I, keeping a distance as I followed him to the kitchen, littered with full trash bags that didn’t smell, for they were full of plastic packages and cans instead of real food.

“Come on, it wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah, there are blood stains on my shirt that say otherwise.”

He grabbed a kettle and put it on the stove to boil and took one cup of instant noodles from the almost empty cabinet. Shrimp flavored, Moe's least favorite.

“You weren't in control, they shot you with a Night Howler.”

“And I went after you instead of the cultist, how do you explain that?”

Over the weeks, that question plagued me too and I came up with a few theories. Maybe he chose to chase something that smelled familiar, or his animal brain saw me as easier prey, since the cultist was bigger. Whichever reason, not a part of me believed he acted from malice.

“Look, you don't need to try and justify or rationalize what happened there. I don't blame you one bit.”

“You should.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

I tried to remain level headed, but I didn't know what else to say to make him see reason.

“Why? Why the hell are you so angry with yourself when it was the crazy cultist that drugged you?”

“Because I liked it!”

The kettle whistle was the only sound in the room as I was left speechless, mouth agape and dry. I only realized how tense my shoulders were when they dropped heavy on my sides.

“...What?”

Wolf let out a deep sigh, turning off the stove and leaning against the counter. He wasn't looking at me.

“I liked it- not hurting you, not ever. But when that guy shot me with the Night Howler…” He rubbed the spot on his neck where the drug hit him. “It was like- like I had been wearing a tie squeezing my neck the whole time and the Night Howler cut it loose.”

His eyes sparkled with something familiar, that same shine from when he went through a heist plan or talked about a new driving maneuver he pulled. But as soon as that spark came, he met my eyes and it was gone.

“You can't be serious,” I shook my head. “Did you actually buy into that naturalist looney's idea?”

“It's not- look, I'm not saying I want to run around like a rabies crazed dog.”

“I sure hope so.”

It wasn’t the answer he hoped for, I knew, but it wasn’t what I expected him to say either. Something about those eyes begged for me to understand. For all that it’s worth it, I tried.

Wolf took a moment, pouring the hot water on his noodles.

“Wish I could explain it better. I haven't been able to sleep right after what I did to you, but at the same time, when I close my eyes and remember the way it felt to run around without a thought in my head, it was… free, and real and…”

“Wild?” 

He opened the lid of his instant noodles with a small chuckle, poking at the shrimp pieces with a plastic fork.

“Yeah, wild.” He took a sniff of the thing, face twisting in disgust, then put it down on the sink. 

Silence weighed on the apartment while I tried to make sense of his words. The way he spoke wasn't much different from those cultists and I couldn't use the excuse of indoctrination on him. The great leaders didn't talk Moe into buying their idea, he felt it on his skin, so much so that even the bite incident didn't stop him from missing that brief moment of brain off wildness.

Maybe the naturalists weren't so off. 

“Would you do it again?”

“The night howler? Nah, too risky.”

“But you miss the feeling.”

It wasn't a question, and the way he lowered his ears showed he knew it. I tried to relate in a way, imagining what it would be like if I could never again eat my favorite food, run in the rain or go downhill on a bike. What would be like if I had a snippet of the highest high of my life only to know I could never experience it again? What would it be like if I had a tie squeezing around my neck, only loose enough to suck in shallow breaths?

Miserable, that's what it would be like.

“Moe…” My heels clicked on the silent apartment as I approached and touched his shoulder. “I can't in my right mind say you should do drugs,” I said with a straight face and he chuckled. “But I don't want you to feel like you're suffocated either. Maybe we can find a middle ground, loosening the tie without ripping it off.”

His ears perked up a little and he looked at me with those puppy eyes that got my heart in a claw-like grip.

“Really? After what I did, would you still want to help?”

“Of course I do. What happened wasn't your fault, and I don't want you to feel suffocated.” I reached for the fluff on his cheek and Moe leaned against my hand. “I love you.”

I barely finished my sentence and his arms wrapped around me, squeezing my waist, firm and gentle, even if I wouldn’t mind having the air squeezed out of me. His head rested against my shoulder and his tail wagged fast.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

The familiar weight of his head on my shoulder melted the tension I walked with for the past weeks. I missed the way his fur tickled my cheek and the way his tail brushed against my legs. If helping him tap into a semi-wild state was what it took to keep this, then becoming a goddamn adrenaline chaser suddenly climbed its way up my list of priorities.

Minutes passed in our much needed embrace before I gathered the willpower to pull away, earning a small whine from him.

“Okay, Moe. If I'm going to help you, we are doing this right.” I walked up to his fridge where a little white board with a couple of markers was glued to the door and picked the red one, writing ‘Mr. Wolf's wild list’ on the top. “Let's start with the ideas.”

Wolf crossed his arms and leaned against the counter with a smirk.

“Not wasting any time, I see.”

“The sooner we figure out what can help you, the sooner we can implement it. So come on, ideas.”

He closed his eyes with a hum, scratching his chin.

“Pulling out a stunt with the car always gets me going.”

“Dangerous driving, then?”

“It's only dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, sweetheart.”

I stared at him, unamused for a good three seconds before sighing.

“Fine.” Against better judgment, I wrote ‘crazy driving’ on the board. “But only on empty roads.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about hiking? It's in nature.”

“Eh, I don't know. Not really a nature guy myself.”

“Really, Moe? No nature in the wild list?”

Wolf chuckled, shaking his head.

“Well, when you put it like that… Maybe I can give running around the mud and get eaten by mosquitos a go.”

“What a lovely way to put it, babe.” I wrote 'touching grass’ on the list with a green marker, drawing a little mosquito beside it.

“Okay, what else?”

Doodling a couple of stars, I waited for new ideas. When he told me nothing for a good thirty seconds, I turned my full attention to him; his tail wagged a little bit, but hung low, the clawed finger tapped against the counter in steady clicks.

 “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, I know the room is pretty dark but I'm not blind.” I placed my hands over his bouncing leg and tapping finger, the movement stopping. “You can tell me.”

He took his sweet time with it, eyes running through the corners of the room and looking away after the split moments he met mine.

“Promise you won't get mad.”

“Okay… I won't get mad.”

“And promise you'll say no if you're not absolute, one hundred percent sure of it.”

“You’re making it sound like you want to commit a crime.”

“Not far off my alley. But no, it's not a crime, it's… Not gonna lie, it's pretty damn embarrassing.”

Embarrassing. This was the man who played the suave thief like second nature, so when he looked at me like a punny teenager about to ask the cheerleader to the dance, scared of my rejection, what else could I do other than swoon?

“I never knew you had shame buried under that white suit of yours.”

I waited for his smart little remark so I could answer with a comeback heating up on the tip of my tongue. It felt nice, familiar, our back and forth.

“Yeah, that's what you do to me.”

My witty come answer turned to ash in my mouth, leaving my tongue heavy; And while my head scrambled for coherence and my knees for composure, Wolf chuckled and put his hands on my hips,thumbs running up and down sending a wave up my back and making my hairs prickle.

“I want you,” He whispered. “When you walked in, your smell almost made me forget why I hid away to begin with.”

The Moe I knew was a flirt, yes, but in a way which felt like he practiced his lines in front of a mirror. A great actor, no doubt, but still an actor. This was different, it was raw. He spoke without a filter and it made my back arch. I squeezed his shoulder, crumpling the fabric of his messy shirt.

“I want you too,” I leaned closer, breath fanning over the little furs on his muzzle. “I missed you, Moe. I missed you way too much.”

Harsher than what I was used to, his hands squeezed the flesh of my hips, and I could feel the tip of his sharp claws through my jeans.

“Sweetheart, I need you to be real with me now and only say yes if you really mean it.” A gentle hand tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want you to be part of my little list.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I want to try something different, a little more… loose.”

The only thing stopping the heat that ran up my spine from getting to my head was the ever present suspicion.

“Loose?”

“Yeah, you said I should loosen the tie,” His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me close enough to feel his hot breath brushing my nose. “And I want to loosen it with you.”

Little impressions I had from the time we spent entangled in the sheets suddenly became much clearer. The way he held me by the waist, kissed me, touched me- Aside from being fantastic and melting the tension from every muscle, left me with this itch in the back of my mind. Be it a scowl on his brow or hands that squeezed me too tight just to let go two seconds after, what he did to me never felt complete. Now I had the confirmation to my suspicions: He held back every time.

Morbid curiosity allied with the growing fire in my stomach, making me wonder how much I could take if he didn't.

“I want to try that out too.”

“Really?” His smile widened and he gave my hips a small squeeze. “It's not just because of me, right? Because if it is-”

I cut his rambling by the root with a peck to the lips.

“I'm a big girl, Moe. I know what I want and I mean what I'm saying. And what I want is for you to take off that leash and burn it-”

In a blink, he had me on top of the balcony, body pressed flushed together as he invaded my mouth in a kiss that left me light headed.

He took his lips away from mine and before I fully made sense of what was happening, began kissing my neck.

“Just tell me to stop and I will,” he said between little kisses and small nibbles. “And if I hurt you, punch me in the throat.”

“Hm, yeah, I can… I can manage that.” 

Pushing words out became quite the task when he was making me gasp and sending  shivers through my nerves. I held onto his head, looking down as he worked his magic on my skin, tucking my shirt's collar down to give the same treatment as my neck. While Wolf busied himself with that, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling a hardening volume against my inner thigh.

“Already?” I smiled, scratching behind his ear.

“Hm, just missed you so much.”

His hands moved from my hips to my thighs, squeezing them like stress toys while leaving an open mouth kiss on my cleavage. I tugged at his head, and when a breathy moan left my lips, he growled against my skin.

“How much do you like this shirt?”

The sudden question snapped my attention back to him. He looked at my long sleeve shirt as if it was his worst enemy.

“What?”

He squeezed my thighs a little harder, claws poking my flesh.

“The shirt. Is it a favorite of yours?” 

“Why- no, not really.”

“Good.”

The fire that ran through my blood when he tore up the shirt with his teeth and claws was enough to make my face melt off. My mouth hung open with no words uttered as he kissed between my breasts, before pulling away to stare at my lace bra.

“Hm… Not this one.” Much gentler, nimble fingers unclasped the hooks behind me, letting the bra slide through my shoulders while he looked me in the eye with a cheeky grin. “This one I like.”

“...I'll keep that in mind.”

“But I like these even more.”

His attention focused on my breasts. He took one in his hand and kneaded it gently, before making me groan with a harsh squeeze. His grip loosened the same moment and he kissed the finger prints on my skin.

“Too much?”

“No, no, just a little sensitive. It’s been a while.”

“It sure has,” Another gentle kiss traced the reddish marks, trailing up to my pulse. “We can do it the nicer way, you know.”

There he went, offering me an out again when my desires were set in forgetting all restraint. In response my eager hands worked around his shirt, soft fabric hiding even softer fur beneath it. Maybe I was the wild animal between us.

The rumbling of his laugh vibrated against my neck.

“Or not.”

His hands returned to my tender breasts, previous gentleness gone as he squeezed one while feeling the other’s weight in his palm. The pain didn’t phase me. Sure, there was a sharp moment of agony, but in less than a second it became laced with strange pleasure, before fully dissolving into it, like a cold shower after a full day walking in the sun. 

My own hands stayed occupied, tracing my fingers over his spine, glazing my nails against his skin, and fully sunk into him when Moe took one of my nipples into his mouth, threatening to bite it down. He didn’t, I knew he wouldn’t go that far, but the possibility was enough to get me shivering.

He nibbled, sucked and played with my hardened buds until I was pulling at the hairs on his neck with enough strength to rip them, and by the end even the breeze from the air conditioner made me whine. He moved back a little, a gleam of smugness in his eyes as he looked over his work of turning my flesh into a personal canvas with purple and red marks. Those eyes that never looked more dangerous met mine and I almost came undone right then and here.

“Awn sweetheart, you’re crying?”

Overwhelmed tears stung my eyes, my entire body, especially my face, feverish.

“N-No. I’m tearing up, it’s different.”

“Well, un-lucky for you, you’re way too pretty like this.” He held my chin a little too forceful, making me stare at the predatory gaze of his. “Now I wonder what’s like if I do make you cry.”

My gasp got cut short when Wolf threw me over his shoulder like a fat shack of dollar bills and walked towards his bedroom, making me yelp when he squeezed my butt followed by a less than gentle bite.

I tried to look at his face while balancing myself.

“When did you get this strong?” 

“Always have been, just needed the right motivation.”

The bedroom was as dark as the rest of the apartment, his familiar scent all around when he threw me in the bed, right in the center of a nest-like pile of blankets and kissing down my lips.

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah, I could fall asleep right now.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, one finger pulling my pants.

“You can try, don’t think you’ll be able to. But if you get close to falling asleep…” With a swift movement, he lowered my pants to my thighs. “I’ll just have to get you on the edge again.” He slid my pants down all the way and kissed under my belly button. “...And again…” His lips stopped at the hem of my panties, fingers coming up to touch the soaked spot between my legs. “... And again.”

Threat or promise, he already left unable to catch my breath. My watery eyes admired the sight as much as the blurriness allowed it, my hips buckling against his fingers while the bastard grinned.

“Hell, Moe. You want me to beg?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it, but now that you offered…”

Leaning back on the pillows with one arm over my face, I groaned.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, don’t be mad. I’m just messing with ya, beautiful.” 

“Oh, aren’t you a jokester? This is torture-”

A jolt went up my spine when he dragged his fingers along my slick, teasing me through the panties’ fabric. Wolf’s breath hovered over my over sensitive clit before he gave it the much needed attention with an open mouth kiss that if on the lips would leave anyone drenched. I held myself back from locking his head with my legs when he moved away to slice my panties off, my fully nude form barely affected by the cold room because of how he made me burn.

Moe kissed me, the softer and passionate approach meeting the pace of his fingers teasing my entrance and smearing my clit with my own wetness. For a moment he got me thinking he had given up on our little experiment, but horny little me simply walked into a trap, only noticing when he grabbed my hips and flipped me into my stomach. I tried to use my elbows for support, but Moe pushed me back down and lifted my hips, leaning over my body, pressing himself flushed against me and whispering.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to have you like this, bent over letting me see everything. And you look so pretty. Always so, so pretty for me, sweetheart.” 

His husky whisper tickled the back of my ear and I couldn’t blame myself from the moan he dragged out of me. I needed him now, before this drove me to wild madness. And maybe that’s what Wolf was trying to do- To turn me into a crazed and unleashed beast. By the way I pressed myself against him, without a single rational thought, he more than succeeded.

“Just fuck me,” I demanded.

Growling, he dug his hands into my hips, grinding the rock hard cock against me, staining his pants with my slick.

“Last chance to back down.” The sound of his voice was followed by the unzipping of his pants.

“I think I’ll combust if I do.”

Wolf chuckled, one of his hands spreading my lips for him while the other guided his thick length to my entrance and made me gasp and grab at the sheets. It took a total of three slower thrusts before he picked up a crushing, brain melting pace and made me forget the time of the day, the place and my name. He held me by the back of the neck, and by the stings of pain coming from my back and shoulder, I could guess how many marks I would have by the end of this- and God, I didn’t care. If anything, it ripped more unrestrained whimpers and cries from my throat.

“You sound almost as amazing as you feel,” he said, voice breathless against the back of my ear, his arms wrapping around my waist and holding me like a vice. “Damn, sweetheart, so pretty, so good for me, my good girl.”

“N-Not fair, that’s my- Oh, God!- that’s my line.”

The unforgiving pace grew even more savage, cutting out my moans with each thrust.

“But you like it too, don’t you? Screaming so much my ears are ringing.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be.”

Although he reached so, so fucking deep into me, that wasn’t the end of it. No, not with Moe like this, not with the swollen base as a delicious reminder, slapping against me everytime he moved.

His groans grew more fanatic, he barely pulled out, rutting against me right before his knot slipped inside in a stretch that might be painful if I wasn’t soaking wet.

Hissing, Moe held me flushed against his chest and my hands held onto his forearms for any semblance of structure. He could only rut against my heat and I could only moan at the over stimulation, so close from being a mess in his arms.

“Mine,” He groaned, nibbling my ear. “My perfect girl, taking me so well.”

“M-Moe…” My body twitched, tears rolled down my eyes into the sweat stained sheets. 

Wolf licked a red mark on the crook of my neck.

“Hm, I knew you would look even more beautiful crying for me.” His voice came out in huff and puffs of hot air on my already burning skin. His rutting became relentless, the tip of his cock bullying my cervix, trying to invade everything, tear me apart, merge into me, and by God, I would let him.

It didn’t take long for me to feel the familiar euphoria rush through my veins and tie knots- how ironic- around my stomach. Barely mustering the strength to moan and cry, pitiful wails echoed back to me, and my unleashed lover didn’t trail much better, his own voice hoarse and desperate.

My climax didn’t knock at the door- no, no, no, it came bursting through it, making a mess and all around as I clawed at Wolf’s forearms like a beast and was left shaking and gasping for air amidst low whines. He kept his pace, mindlessly chasing his own high, making my overstimulation all the more wrecking.

Two more minutes of harsh slapping sounds went by before the sights of his orgasm finally appeared to relieve my shaking body. Claws dug in my hips with a possessive grip, his jaw was so tense I could hear the sharp teeth grind against each other and for a moment it seemed he wanted to merge into me before his grip loosed and I felt the familiar warmth floating my walls and leaving no empty creeks.

Fast movements died down, his head resting on my shoulder followed by a heavy and content sigh .I could finally catch my breath.

“Are you okay?” Wolf asked, kissing the marking on the back of my neck.

In my head I answered ‘yes, fantastic’, but babbles left my mouth instead of words- At least he found it funny. 

Gently, he flipped me on my back and laid me down, kissing my temple and pulling my putty self closer.

“Fantastic as always, sweetheart. I didn’t think you could get any better and you still impressed me.”

I met his eyes, a smile playing on my lips. His fur never looked more messy, inviting me to pet and try to even it out. I did so, and Moe leaned against my hand, but that sweet, blissed out smile died the moment he laid eyes on the bite mark on my forearm. My heart squeezed for him as he took my arm like it was made of glass and stared at the red teeth scars.

“Moe, it’s not-” 

“I know.” He kissed the bite mark, lips lighter than butterfly wings. “But I’m still so sorry. Even after this, you’re still doing so much for me, I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

My hand scratched behind his flat ear.

“Well, if you’re so keen about it, I would love it if you finally got out of the apartment.”

He scoffed, but I kept going.

“I’m serious. I know you feel guilty, but locking yourself up as if you committed a crime is not doing any good to anyone. Hell, if I was the one who went crazy and bit you, it wouldn’t be an issue. You might even be laughing about it.”

Proving my point, he let out a breathy chuckle.

“See?” Despite the wobbly limbs, I shifted on the bed, bringing his head to my chest and placing one leg over his waist. “You’re not bad, Wolf.”

Hesitant hands moved up my back, holding me closer, and my worries were eased once I heard his tail wagging against the bed.

“Thank you, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Of course you’re right.” He nuzzled my neck and I could feel his smile. “And you’re right about leaving the apartment too. My nose is starting to itch and I would rather eat cardboard than those shrimp flavored noodles again.” 

“How about we go for a walk and get a salad after?”

He looked at me like a little kid who got told no at the toy store.

“Fine, a walk and ice cream. But after that we're deep cleaning this place.”

“Hmm, yes. You’re definitely too good for me.”

Wagging his tail, he leaned in and kissed the purple bruise on my neck. I knew his self blame wasn’t gone, hope as I might, it might never fully be, but we would take it one step at a time. And besides, exploring this new, unrestrained side of him- of us- wasn’t bad at all.

TAGLIST: @freeholeformuzan @xxladysquishyxx

[awhitehead17]

Batfam Alphabet: F - Fear Toxin

Summary: When Tim gets injected with a new variant of Scarecrow’s fear toxin, all Jason could do is hold the kid in his arms to stop him from getting injured further as he waits for back up to arrive. 

A/N: As a warning violence happens, nothing too graphic but here’s a warning just in case!

Enjoy! :D

Jason pauses when his fingers grasp nothing but empty air. Snapping his gaze down, he frowns when he finds his pocket completely empty. He sighs and curses. This is just what he needs, he’s ran out of antidotes.

He looks up across the street to find Tim administering an antidote into another cowering civilian caught in the crossfire of Gotham’s latest villain scheme. Jason jogs over to his brother and glances at him through his helmet. “You got any more? I’m out.”

Tim shakes his head regretfully. “No. That was my last one. We really underestimated how far Scarecrow’s toxin got this time. We don’t have enough.”

Jason hums in agreement and observes their surroundings. They’re together in a back alley of Gotham’s streets, one that had been hit badly by Scarecrow’s latest fear toxin. They had the task of vaccinating all the civilians around with the new antidote. Back in the cave they calculated an estimate number of many people populated the area and had prepared more than enough between them, or so they thought, unfortunately their numbers were far from right leaving them with not nearly enough antidotes.  

Around them now, many civilians are still under the hallucinations of the toxin, some are screaming, crying or even violently yelling at empty air. Jason swears again, this is not how the night was supposed to go.

He’s brought out of his thoughts when Tim turns to him. “We’re going to need to go back and restock. We’re not much use otherwise.”

“Agreed.”

He wonders if the others are having similar issues with numbers and the lack of antidotes. The team’s spread out around Gotham’s most targeted areas, all of them working in pairs for safety and everyone working their asses off to help people in the city.

Wordlessly the two of them head for their hidden vehicles in a neighbouring alley. As they prepare to climb onto their bikes Tim glances his way to say something but ends up yelling in alarm instead. “Hood watch out!”

It’s thanks to Jason’s reflexes that he’s able to duck underneath the swinging arm in time to avoid being hit. He brings his gun out and turns to face his attacker. His attacker is probably middle aged man, a little on the heavy side and he’s wearing a shitty Halloween mask to hide his face. Jason dodges another swing and returns the favour, he takes him out in three quick and precise strikes with his hands.

A loud grunt gets his attention and Jason spins around to find Tim caught in a head lock with a gun pressed against his temple. Tim’s attacker is too wearing a mask as were the four others who now surround them. Where they came from Jason has no idea. How the hell did they miss these guys who had obviously been waiting and hiding for them to return to their bikes?

As Jason levels his gun at Tim’s attacker the four others surrounding him also raise their guns pointing them in his direction, this concludes them all into a standoff.

Tim’s attacker speaks up first. “Put that gun down or I blow his brains out.”

Behind his mask Jason rolls his eyes. How fucking cliché? He keeps his gun up though, pointing at the man and in a cocky statement he takes the safety off with an audible click. The man holding Tim snorts as he had been expecting Jason’s disobedience.

“Very well. I’ll show you how this is going to go. You get one warning and mate, you’ve just used that warning.”

He kicks Tim’s legs out from underneath him and lets him go, unexpecting the abrupt movement Tim crashes to the floor. Once he’s sprawled out on the ground the attacker stamps on one of Tim’s hands, causing a rather loud and sickening crack to ring out. Jason winces as Tim yells in pain but before anyone could react further the same man manhandles Tim to his knees and resumes their previous position.

He cocks the gun and presses it to Tim’s head. “Now, if either of you act up, you’re gonna get a hurt whole lot worse than a broken hand. Now follow us. No funny business! Get his gun!”

One of the men come and wrench Jason’s gun out of his hand and all Jason could do was let him. He doesn’t want to risk Tim any more than he has to.

He and Tim are marched out of the alley and into another before being directed into an abandoned building. They’re walked into the middle of the room and forced down to their knees, once on the ground a couple of the thugs come over to grab their hands and tie them behind their backs. Jason grits his teeth and refrains from doing something like headbutting the asshole, while next to him Tim lets out a pained grunt as his broken hand is jostled.

When they step away Jason twists his body awkwardly to get a look at his restrained wrists to find them tied with cable ties. Jason huffs in disbelief. His attention is soon brought back to the room when one of the attackers speak up.

“Boss we got’em just like you asked.”

Jason straightens up when a new figure walks into the room only to grit his teeth seconds later when Scarecrow is revealed. The bastard doesn’t stop moving until he’s looming over them. Unable to help himself Jason speaks up, sarcasm heavily laced in his tone. “Same shit different day Crane. Why don’t you go and get yourself a new hobby, go for something like knitting perhaps.”

Crane turns his head towards Jason, his expression hidden by that stupid potato sack over his head. “You would like that wouldn’t you? If I were gone there would be nothing to fear. Perhaps that clown but nothing else.”

“Sorry to break it to you but you ain’t that scary.” Jason quips, glaring through his helmet.

“Maybe not right now but with a little help, I will be, I’ll become your greatest nightmare.” Crane reaches behind him and pulls out a box, he makes a show of opening it up and producing a syringe filled with a clear liquid. “A person can learn to control themselves when feeling great emotion, sadness, happiness, anger, but never in times of fear. Fear is the minds greatest enemy and that’s why it’s so powerful, why even the greatest of men fall.”

Jason watches as Crane drifts over to stand in front of Tim, his brother simply looks up with a hard and determined expression not saying anything. Crane fiddles with the syringe in his hands, studying Tim as he does.

“It won’t work. We’re not stupid Crane.” Jason says feeling dread build up inside of him. He knows what’s about to happen and he has feeling he knows exactly what Crane’s response is going to be.

“I know. That’s why I’m sure you’ve worked out that this is a different toxin I’ve produced to the one I’ve already distributed. One of which you don’t have an antidote for.”

For the first time Tim speaks up, snarling at the man in front of him. “Go to hell Crane.” Scarecrow doesn’t answer Tim, instead he reaches down and grabs a fist full of Tim’s hair and yanks his head back to expose his neck.

From his position Jason lurches at the movement, ready to pounce but it stopped when the thugs immediately zone in on him. Guns point at him and at Tim, simply daring him to make another move. Uselessly he settles back down on the ground.

Crane jabs the syringe into the kid’s neck and injects the liquid into Tim’s body. Once it’s empty he steps away, pushing Tim down to the ground as he does. Jason is torn between worriedly watching Tim’s unmoving form on the ground and Crane’s retreating figure from the room.

One of the thugs speak up. “Uh boss now what? We not killing the big one?”

“No.” Crane says firmly. “He has a choice to make, come after me and leave the other to suffer or help him and let me go.”

“You bastard!” Jason yells as Crane exits the room, disappearing from his sight. “You’ll be sorry you’ve left me alive! I will kill your ass when I next see it.”

Jason snaps his attention to Tim who is now whimpering on the floor. He needs to get help, he needs to get Tim to the cave so they can start working on a new antidote to whatever the hell Crane just injected him with.

With some difficulty, Jason twists and wiggles around so he can move to get his restrained hands in front of him. Using a move Dick once showed him, Jason tucks up tightly loops his arms underneath his body so they go underneath him and end up in front of him. It tests his flexibility for sure but it works.

Once his arms are in front of him he reaches up and presses the comms, getting Barbara’s help.

“O! I need immediate assistance!”

“Hood what’s going on, why did you and Red Robin go radio silent-”

Not having the patience Jason cuts her off. “Now’s not the time! We ran into Scarecrow and he injected Red with a new toxin. We need to get him to the cave asap.”

“Shit. I’m alerting the others now and sending them your location. Do what you can to help Red.”

“Already on it.”

Jason signs off and moves to break the cable ties around his wrists. He tightens them up as much as possible, raises his hands over his head and brings his fists down to his stomach in one fluid movement. Upon impact the ties break and his heads are freed.

Not wasting a second he scrambles over to Tim who is now starting to wither on the floor, whimpering pitiful sounds. Knowing there’s not much he can do, Jason decides to break the ties from Tim's own wrists, he’s aware of Tim’s broken hand but that’ll have to be dealt with later on.

At least that was his plan up until he puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder. As soon as Jason touches him, the kid freaks out. He lets out a scream of terror and suddenly jerks up right and starts to scramble away from him. Jason freezes in shock as he watches Tim try and move away from him, but the kid’s movements were hindered by his hands being tied behind him.

“No no no no. I’m sorry. Please I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. No no no. It won’t happen again I promise.”

The words were quiet and raspy but Jason could hear them clearly in the silence of the room. He needs to stop Tim from moving and also to prevent further damage to his hands. He cautiously approaches Tim again, crouching down low and taking slow steps forward, but at the moment Tim only sees him as a threat. The kid screams and continues to try and scramble backwards away from him.

“No no no! I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me…”

Jason frowns at the words as his heart lurches inside of his chest at the sound of Tim’s pleading voice. When he takes another step forward Tim only screams again, making Jason freeze on the spot. He really ought to get Tim to stop moving, Jason doesn’t particularly want to use force to get him to restrain his movements but he doesn’t think he has any choice.

Sighing Jason takes off his helmet, something he admittedly probably should have done before now, and approaches Tim again. As expected the kid screams and begs as he tries to shuffle away, his legs kicks out and his body contorts uncomfortably.

Pretty much out of options Jason lunges for Tim. He grabs the kid’s ankle to stop him from getting any further away before diving onto the floor and situating himself behind Tim. He wraps his legs around Tim’s thighs and knees, pinning them in place and he wraps his arms around Tim’s torso and shoulders. He holds on tightly as Tim tries and fails to buck out of his grasp.

While the kid screams in his arms all Jason could do is hold him and wait until backup comes. He counts the never ending minutes as they tick by. His brother is weakly fighting his hold while tears stream down his cheeks as he whimpers out pleas, it breaks Jason’s heart to hear it all.

Thankfully the cavalry soon arrive, they burst into the room and take in the scene before them. Both Dick and Bruce rush towards them and immediately start making plans.

“How long ago was he injected?” Bruce demands as he grasps Tim’s chin. Tim tries to get out of it but Bruce holds firm as he removes the kid’s mask and studies his dilated pupils.

“Twenty maybe thirty minutes. Right before O contacted you. Crane got away.” Jason reports automatically. He’s furious about Crane of course but family comes first, he couldn’t have left Tim alone in this state.

“Hold him still.” Bruce grunts as he digs through his utility belt. After a moment he produces a small blood sample kit. With quick efficiency Bruce takes a vial of Tim’s blood, caps it off and holds it out to Nightwing who had been hovering on the side but not getting in the way. Dick takes it without words. “Get a head start to the cave, Agent A is preparing to start a new antidote trial.”

Dick nods, his gaze lingers on Tim before his head tilts in Jason’s direction. “Keep me updated.” He disappears before Jason could respond. When Dick is out of sight his attention is drawn back to Tim and Bruce.

“We need to get him to the car and then to the cave. You’ll need to keep him restrained so he doesn’t hurt himself.”

If the situation were different Jason would both be peeved and even upset at the detachment in Bruce’s tone of voice. Unfortunately in this situation he can understand why Bruce is like it, not being emotionally invested will allow him to focus on the task at hand, which in this case happened to be getting Tim back to the cave and working on a new antidote. He’ll let himself feel everything once he knows Tim is safe and sound.

Together he and Bruce manage to get Tim into the batmobile. The kid does nothing other than scream, whimper, plead and cry as they move him. Jason makes sure to tell Bruce about his hand and once in the car Bruce relays the injury to Alfred in the cave. Once they’ve worked out the antidote they can work on his hand.

Getting back to the cave seems long and tedious but once they’re there they move Tim from the car and into the medical bay. They settle him down on one of the cots, having to restrain his wrists and ankles to the bed to stop him moving so much and Alfred updates them on the situation with the antidote.

They were fortunate enough to be able to come up with a temporary antidote in that short amount of time. It turns out Scarecrow hadn’t used a new toxin but rather the same one as before, the only difference in this one is that there are hints of Poison Ivy’s hallucinogen concoction. Dick and Alfred quickly worked together to combine the two antidotes making a new one altogether.

Without much hesitation they give Tim the new antidote and watch as the kid quietens down on the bed and falls unconscious. It’s only after Alfred deems everything is okay that they all can breathe somewhat easily again.

While Dick, Bruce, Jason and Barbara (over the comms) discuss the next steps and about what the current situation is looking like, Alfred stays with Tim and patches up his hand, fixing a cast over the skin and bone until they can get it looked at professionally.

As plans are being made Jason watches Alfred work, his worry for Tim still heavily stirring inside of him. He doesn’t think he’ll be forgetting those petrified screams any time soon. Once the kid wakes up Jason is going to have a long chat with Tim, one to rest his own subconscious and secondly because he wants to make sure the kid is mentally okay after the ordeal. He’ll make sure Tim gets some proper r&r after all of this and maybe even for himself too once Crane is dealt with.

[tailorvizsla]

You didn't think I wouldn't ask for some Boba Fett though now did you? (Of course not, he is the new shiny for me iuwhei) ✨ HC Of my Choice... What about having your first kiss with Boba and he doesn't #know it is your first one till part-way through or after? Am I projecting? Yes, yes I am.

Title: HC – Boba Fett and First Kiss Pairing: Gender neutral Reader x Boba Fett Word Count: ~1700 Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Boba Fett is a grumpy bastard, but you hold your own against him. Boba also gets injured, but there aren’t any graphic descriptions of the injuries. Author’s Notes: Okay, my Angle, I’ve been thinking about this one for as long as it’s been sitting in my inbox. I’m not familiar with Boba Fett’s character, so I wanted to make sure this was good for you. So, without further ado, here we go with the Big Green Grumpy Jerk who has somehow inexplicably charmed his way into my heart with a few gruff comments.

Tagging @princessbatears because chaos? :>

📚 My Master List 📚

Boba Fett isn’t a man of many words. It’s not that he’s shy or anything – he just doesn’t like talking to people beyond what is necessary. He has worked alone his entire life, so the sound of others’ voices just sort of grates on him. He especially does not like being crowded by people.

So, one day, while doing his thing, he ends up injured. It’s not even due to combat. His jetpack just…sputters out. His beskar’gam turns what should have been a fatal fall into a very painful one. He knows he has broken a lot of bones, but Boba refuses to die like this. He crawls his way back to his bike, calls for medical aid, and prays to the Maker that someone in town will come help him.

You are the only person who does come to help him. Most other people are too afraid of the Imperial remnants to work with a Mandalorian. Others are too afraid of Mandalorians to work with a Mandalorian. You? You are not afraid of much. He is not sure if you are brave or stupid. After splinting the worst of the damage, you get him onto the bike and get him back into town. It is at this point that Boba finds himself leaning toward thinking you are stupidly caring and trusting.

You inject him with bacta – the good kind that makes him giggly, sleepy, and numb – and get to work. When he wakes up, he’s wrapped in an annoying number of casts and splints, but at least he’s still alive. However, you then give him the bad news: the fall has damaged many of the delicate nerves in his back. If he fails to undergo physical therapy, there is a real chance he may never walk again. He’s no medical expert, but when he looks at the scans you took, he knows you aren’t lying.

So, Boba resigns himself to having to deal with you on a regular basis. The first physical therapy exercises are simple, yet they exhaust him to the point where he just passes out. As the days go by, he starts putting up the walls to keep you out. (Spoiler alert: you manage to find your way through the cracks in the wall, annoying him with barely any effort on your behalf.)

Now, under ideal circumstances, this shitshow would end with Boba Fett getting back on his feet, paying you handsomely for the amount of time you have spent getting him put together, and going back to bounty hunting, never to think of you again. But of course, the universe throws an even bigger wrench into his carefully thought-out plans. Someone finds out that you’re taking care of him and a whole bunch of angry townspeople converge on your little clinic. He grabs you and the two of you run. The last thing you see is your clinic going up in flames. (Boba can’t believe the shortsightedness of these people – they’ve driven off their only competent medical professional. What are they going to do next? Kill their only competent mechanic? Di’kute, every last one of them.)

And so, the two of you go off on a merry adventure, annoying the absolute shit out of each other on a regular basis. Boba especially is concerned at how easily you have managed to find every single weak point in his defenses – physical, mental, and emotional. You are a fair shot with your blaster, so when he got fresh with you that one time, telling you that your ass looked downright edible in the trousers you had borrowed from him, you drew your blaster and fired a shot off at his feet. He laughed so hard his bucket nearly fell off. (You are not sure if you are disturbed that he finds being shot at amusing. He does scold you a bit, but you do notice that he does not talk about your ass anymore.)

With your knife? You’re lethal, and he learns that the hard way when he fails to announce his presence behind you. One moment Boba is reaching to touch your shoulder and the next moment, he’s got your elbow in his face and your penknife embedded in his flak vest. Fortunately, the blade’s too short to cause serious damage, but he does not let you forget that you kriffing stabbed him when he was only trying to ask you what you wanted for dinner.

Even though Boba would rather cover himself in tiingilar sauce and crawl back into the sarlacc pit headfirst than ever admit it, the two of you make a damn good team. He goes off to hunt bounties, you stay in town to provide your medical services for a fair fee. Sometimes, when your services are not needed, you’ll hang back at the ship and do some basic accounting to keep him within his budget.

Boba grumbles when you ask to accompany him on a hunt, but he figures you really do need to learn how to defend yourself if anything should happen to him. When the two of you were surrounded by goons, you naturally fell into place behind him, your back to his, covering his shebs while he provides the heavy firepower. When the numbers are thinned to something more manageable, he sets you loose on them, letting you practice your knife skills. And by the Maker, he is impressed with how much you have improved since the last time you stabbed him.

Between hunts, you get his shebs back into fighting shape. Hell, he thinks he’s even better than he was before. The exercises you insist on forcing on him have made him more flexible than he was before, and his bones no longer creak first thing in the morning. One particularly hot, muggy day, you try to make him drink that vile green vegetable concoction you call a smoothie. Smooth his shebs, there are chunks in that liquefied animal feed. Sometimes he wonders if you’re trying to kill him on purpose.

(You don’t know this, but Boba has already arranged for everything in his possession, ships and banking accounts included, to be transferred to you in the event of his death. Hell, he has even started negotiating with a friendly Tribe to make sure you have a home to go to and your pick of their warriors for marriage, should you be interested. Boba justifies it this way: the last time his jetpack mutinied, he ended up several hundred thousand credits in debt to you by his estimation. By ensuring you have a safe place to go, and a family ready to welcome you, he can offset the immeasurable debt he owes you. It hurts to think of this, but Boba genuinely cannot bear the thought of you being alone in this cruel galaxy, the same way he had been when he was a child. So, if he ever does piss you off to the point where you off him in his sleep, you’ll be fine.)

You keep pushing and pushing, insisting that he needs B-vitamins or some other bantha-shit he’s sure you’ve made up for the sole purpose of annoying him. When you start going on about macronutrients and essential vitamins, Boba loses it. He tosses his cutlery down and goes stomping off toward the cockpit. You follow him, blathering on and on about the last blood panel you had pulled – HDLs, LDLs, and a whole slew of acronyms later, he loses it. Rather than snap at you, he shuts you up the only way his poor sleep-deprived brain can come up with.

Boba pushes you up against the wall, gently to avoid hurting you. You don’t seem at all phased. In fact, you start waving the paper at him as you try to draw his attention to his sodium levels. Boba leans in and presses his lips to yours. You finally stop talking, your entire body going stiff in response. He takes a moment to nibble along your lower lip before parting your lips with his, tongue probing a bit deeper in, and you still aren’t responding. Boba draws back and stares down at you. You’re wide-eyed and clearly in shock.

He leans in again. This time you respond clumsily, your hands clutching at that stupid piece of paper. He gently wrestles it out of your grasp and crumples it up. Then he tosses it over his shoulder, not caring where it lands. He cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. Still, you’re not responding the way he wants, so he draws back.

“What, never been kissed before?” he asks.

Before he can say anything else, he realizes that that was your first kiss. While Boba has never wanted to be anyone’s First Anything, he realizes that he wants to make an exception for you. There’s no one in this entire galaxy who can annoy the shit out of him in one breath and then worry about his health in the next. You are his little baar’ur. After you have wormed your way under his plating and so selfishly made yourself a fixture in his life without his permission? Oh, no, no, you are not going anywhere.

He cuts off your stammering with another kiss. He takes this one slow, moving your hands to where he wants you to touch him – one at his nape, the other at the small of his back, right over that spot that makes his knees weak.

This time, you respond. Slowly, hesitantly, but as you grow more confident, your hands begin to stray. You worm your fingers up the back of his shirt and dig your nails into the sensitive skin there, making him gasp in pleasure. Then you dig your fingers into his long hair and tug lightly, earning a low growl from him. You freeze and stare up at him with wide eyes until he leans back in.

Fortunately, your big smart science brain learns his likes and dislikes very quickly. When he finally pulls away, he finds that he really likes what he sees – your shirt’s rumpled, your hair is sticking up, and your lips are red and swollen from his kisses. Then and there, he makes a vow to make sure you always look like a mess.

(Spoiler alert: quite a few more of your firsts happen right here in the cockpit.)

[carry-the-sky]

you were a kindness when i was a stranger

summary

“Sleep on it,” Karen tells him. “If you’re still not feeling it by tomorrow, just shoot me a text and let me know.” She cracks a grin. “Don’t worry, there’s a pile of headline-making material sitting on my desk if this falls through.”

Curtis takes her advice and really thinks it over. Ultimately, it comes down to fear—his. And he refuses to let it drag him down. If he can’t practice what he’s preaching, he shouldn’t be running a group at all.

He texts her first thing in the morning: Hi Karen, it’s Curtis. I’m in.

chapter one | chapter two

Curtis got a concussion once as a kid—went headfirst over his bike’s handlebars after taking a corner too fast. Got his bell rung pretty good, even with a helmet. He remembers feeling more dazed than anything, like someone had stuffed his skull with packing peanuts.

Frank Castle showing up out of the blue for the first time in six months has a similar effect.

Curtis got a concussion once as a kid—went headfirst over his bike’s handlebars after taking a corner too fast. Got his bell rung pretty good, even with a helmet. He remembers feeling more dazed than anything, like someone had stuffed his skull with packing peanuts.

Frank Castle showing up out of the blue for the first time in months has a similar effect.

Curtis knows he should probably say something, but his head is empty, nothing but static. The words just aren’t there.

Frank pushes to his feet. He looks a hell of a lot calmer than Curtis feels, but then Curtis sees his trigger finger tap-tap-tapping away at his side, and he can’t help but feel a small pinch of satisfaction. Let the bastard sweat a bit—Curtis is the furthest thing from inclined to make this any easier on him.

“How’s it goin’?” Frank says, like they’re just casually catching up over lunch, and Curtis almost laughs aloud. This whole thing is surreal; Frank, here, in one piece. His voice even sounds normal again.

That’s not the only thing that’s different. Curtis can tell that Frank’s face is a little fuller, free of those purple-blue shadows that seem to permanently lurk under his eyes. He’s gone full Pete-beard again, and he’s traded in the black hoodie for a flannel and jeans. He looks—ordinary. If Curtis didn’t know him, he wouldn’t look twice if he passed Frank on the street.

Curtis breathes deep, lets it out nice and slow. “What the hell are you doing here, Frank?”

“Wanted to say hello,” the other man answers, hiking his shoulders slightly. “Figured you wouldn’t shoot me in a church.”

Curtis does laugh at that, clipped and hollow. “Wouldn’t be so sure about that, man. You’re definitely testing my resolve.”

“I know I’m a jackass showin’ up here, Curt—”

“Got that right,” Curtis mutters.

“Hey,” Frank says, voice going a little rough. “Five minutes, yeah? Give me five minutes, and if you wanna throw my ass out after that, you be my guest.”

Curtis shakes his head. “As much as I’d enjoy that, your timing is shit, Frank. I got a reporter from the Bulletin who’s gonna be here any second—”

Frank’s eyes sharpen. “Reporter?”

“Yeah, so if you don’t want your face plastered all over the front page, I suggest you get the hell out of here.”

“Who—”

“Hey, Curtis, sorry I’m a little late. Traffic was terrible—”

Curtis’ eyes snap up. Karen stands in the doorway, frozen as a statue. She’s staring straight at Frank.

Shit. She might recognize him. The beard and flannel are a flimsy smokescreen at best; Frank’s face has graced the front page of that paper of hers more than once. Curtis can almost feel the wheels spinning as his brain kicks into high gear, already working out how to get Frank out of this, how to explain away the fuckin’ Punisher standing here talking to him in the middle of the afternoon. Karen’s a good person, decent, but she’s also good at her job. There’s no way she turns a blind eye to this. He has to think of something—

“Frank,” she breathes.

Curtis’ thoughts grind to a halt.

Because—she clearly does know him, but not in the way Curtis was expecting. The way she says his name, soft with disbelief—

For the second time today, Curtis feels like he’s walked into a fever dream.

He glances at Frank, and the man’s got a busted up expression on his face, like one of those abstract paintings that looks like something and nothing all at once.

“Karen,” he says, voice grating over the word, and shit, he sounds more torn up than he looks. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, choke-off like the words are stuck there—then his jaw locks and his gaze ricochets to the ground, the wall, the ground again. Curtis can see his hands shaking from here.

Whatever the hell this is, it’s way above his pay grade. Curtis shakes his head again and starts unstacking chairs from where they hang against the wall. “You should leave before everyone gets here,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at Karen. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

He knows the fuckin’ feeling.

“Hey,” Curtis says, and her head snaps in his direction. “We still good?” 

Her gaze wobbles, darts to Frank and then back. “Yeah, of course. We’re good.” Slowly, she moves from the doorway, brushing past Frank like he’s not even there.

“Jesus christ,” Frank curses under his breath. He reaches for her. “Karen, this isn’t—”

But whatever he was going to say is lost as voices filter in from the hallway, growing steadily louder. Curtis swallows the bubble of hysterical laughter that’s rising in his throat. This day has already gone sideways; might as well let go and let God, as his pop always used to say.

No one notices Frank, at first. A couple people—Lydia included—greet Karen enthusiastically as they enter the room; the rest settle into the regular routine of milling about at the coffee table.

Rahul is the one who finally spots him. “Pete?” he gapes. “Shit, man, it’s good to see you! Where you been?”

That gets everyone’s attention. Within the span of a few seconds, Frank has about half a dozen people crowding around him, clapping him on the back and peppering him with questions about how he’s doing, what he’s been up to. Frank pastes on a shaky smile and gives the small talk a good effort, but his eyes keep skittering to where Karen’s arranging the chairs in a wide circle. Curtis can’t remember the last time he saw Frank look so uncomfortable; he’s wound tense as a coil, all potential energy with nowhere to go.

Curtis almost feels bad for him. Almost.

“You’re staying for group, right?” someone asks, and this time Frank locks eyes with Curtis.

Curtis shrugs as if to say your call. It’s not like he can throw him out in front of everyone. Beyond that—honestly, he’s relieved. Beneath the layers of hurt and anger is the one thing Curtis has shied away from acknowledging: his fear that maybe this time, Frank stayed dead.

Thankfully, the man seems to have nine lives. And right now, he looks like he’d like nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear.

Against his better judgment, Curtis throws him a bone.

“Pete just dropped by to say hello. You were on your way out, right?” he asks, fixing Frank with a look that he hopes conveys what he’s thinking: take the hint, man.

There’s a ripple of disappointment, but everyone seems to buy it. Frank threads his way over the Curtis, and his relief is almost palpable.

“Thanks, Curt,” he says.

“You’re running up a hell of a tab, Frank.” Curtis pinches the bridge of his nose, already regretting what he’s about to say. “You remember that bar over on 12th? After group—I’ll give you one hour. And you’re buying.”

Frank smirks. “Fair enough.” 

His eyes flick across the room; Karen’s been carefully avoiding looking over here, but it’s like she can feel the weight of his gaze. Curtis sees it, the moment their eyes meet.

Frank’s face opens up like a book, eyes wide and bright. Curtis has never seen him look this vulnerable; even as long as they’ve been friends, he’s always kept the softest parts of himself tucked away. It makes Curtis feel like he’s intruding on something intimate.

Then someone’s saying Karen’s name, and the moment splinters. Frank ducks his head, already sliding the mask back on, and slips out the door.

.

Group passes uneventfully. The conversation picks up from where they left things last week, and aside from injecting a few questions here and there, Curtis is mostly an observer. If he’s being honest, he really enjoys the weeks he can just sit back and let the group carry itself. Makes him feel like it’s bigger than any one person, like it can go on without him being in the driver’s seat.

Karen is quiet through most of the meeting, definitely more reserved than last week. When the hour is up, she tells Curtis she’ll be in touch, thanks him again for having her, and then manages to duck out before anyone notices she’s gone. 

Curtis knows it’s none of his business, but he can’t help wondering who she is to Frank. She’s more than an acquaintance, that much is for damn sure. And Frank clearly cares for her. Curtis lets his curiosity simmer, carrying him all the way from the church to Sal’s dive bar.

Frank’s already there when he arrives. True to his word, he’s ordered the first round; he raises his beer up in greeting as Curtis slides onto the bar stool next to him.

“Got you somethin’ a bit stronger,” Frank says, nodding at Curtis’ glass.

Curtis takes a swig and tastes jack and coke. He glances down at his watch. “You’re on the clock, Frank. One hour.”

Frank huffs out a laugh. “Shit, where do I start?”

“How about Karen?” Curtis says. “What was that back at the church?”

Even in the dim bar light, Frank’s eyes flint over. “Long story.”

“Give me the spark notes version.”

Frank taps his thumb against his beer, pointedly avoiding Curtis’ eyes. Then he pushes back in his seat slightly. “Alright, you win. You remember my trial? Karen was on my legal team. She was the one who started digging into what happened to Maria and the kids. All the shit that’s gone down since then—she got caught up in some of it.”

Curtis takes another drink, processing. “And let me guess, you”—he holds his fingers up as air quotes—“pushed her away to keep her safe.”

Frank tips his beer back, hiding a grin. “Guess I deserved that, huh?”

“You’re one predictable son of a bitch, Frank.” He glances sidelong at his friend. “You gonna apologize to her for whatever it is you did?”

The way Frank’s face falls is answer enough. Curtis knows that expression well; whatever happened between the two of them is eating him up inside.

“I’m tired, Curt,” he finally says, each word ragged. “I’m so goddamn tired. All the blood and bullshit—” Frank’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Woke up one morning just sick of all of it. Started thinking about the kids, about Maria—if they could see me, Curt—”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man,” Curtis cuts in. He knows how fiercely Frank loved his family; hearing him tear himself up wondering what they’d think of him now sits a little funny in his gut.

Frank meets his gaze head on. “I’m sorry, Curtis. I know that might not mean shit anymore, not coming from me, but there it is. All the shit I put you through—I never meant for it to go as far as it did. You gotta know that.”

It’s Curtis’ turn to laugh. “I don’t know that. Hell, sometimes—sometimes it seems like you like it when shit hits the fan. You like being backed into a corner, fighting your way out.”

“Yeah, you might be right about that. Still sorry I dragged you into it.”

They drink in silence for a few minutes. It’s a weeknight, so the bar is mostly quiet, just the low thrum of conversation and a thin crackle of music leaking from the radio behind the bar. Curtis can almost pretend that they’re just two friends catching up over a drink, talking about trivial shit like work and the weather and who’s going to the playoffs.

The thing is, Curtis isn’t quite ready to forgive Frank. It’s gonna take more than one night at Sal’s to mend the rift between them. But maybe Frank’s not looking for forgiveness; maybe what he needs tonight is a friend, a brother. Someone who loves him even when they’re pissed as hell at him.

Curtis thinks he can do that.

“So,” he says, eyeing Frank knowingly. “When’re you gonna call her?”

Frank flicks his eyes over, mouth pinching into a line. “Not too sure Karen wants to hear from me, especially after today.”

Curtis shakes his head. “Thought your wallowing asshole days were behind you, man. It’s time to gather your rosebuds.”

Frank snorts. “Quoting old English poetry at me now, huh?”

“You bet your ass. I live for all that carpe diem shit. You say you hung up the vest, right? You’re done with that? Then prove it. You got one life, Frank, so go live it.”

Frank dips his head to the floor. When he looks up again, his eyes are a little wet. “I’m scared, Curt.”

“Shit, Frank, that’s all anyone is. We’re all scared. The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it.” Curtis reaches over and clasps Frank’s shoulder. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Frank bobs his head, but Curtis can tell he still can’t quite see it. The man’s been punishing himself for so long; it’s all he thinks he deserves. Curtis has seen enough war and trauma to know that sometimes there’s no coming back from that ledge. Frank has to make that choice himself. He might not be ready yet, but he’s here in this bar instead of out on the streets, and that’s not nothing.

Frank blinks, then tilts his head to squint at Curt’s watch. “Hour’s almost up. Deal’s a deal, yeah?” He slaps a few bills down on the bar and starts to stand.

Curtis holds his almost-empty glass up. “I could go for one more round.”

“Yeah?” Frank asks, and the word cracks a bit.

Curtis feels something loosen up in his chest. “Yeah, man.”

Frank sits back down, and it feels like a step forward.

.

The article runs a few days later. Karen calls to give him a heads up, but the anticipation still jolts down his spine as he thumbs through the paper to find it. Curtis reads it through once, his throat going a little tight as he reads quotes from the vets about how group feels like a family, how it’s helped them find their way back to normal after coming home. Karen’s writing is the backbone of the whole thing, capturing the group’s essence without bleeding into the melodramatic.

He reads it again, then gives her a call.

“Anything interesting in the paper today?” she says when she answers.

Curtis huffs. “Funny.”

“What did you think?”

“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Curtis admits. “But mostly thrilled that it’s out there. These guys deserve it.”

“Agreed,” Karen says. “And so do you.”

Curtis doesn’t know what to say to that. Group always felt like something he needed to do, a way to reclaim his trauma instead of succumbing to it. He’s never needed or wanted any recognition for it.

“Thanks, Karen,” he finally manages. “And hey, if you ever need something to do on Thursdays, you know where to find us.”

“Even after last week?” She says it lightly enough, but even over the phone Curtis hears the slight strain in her voice. “I felt awful for leaving so quickly.”

“Hey, I get it. Bit of an exciting day.”

She laughs dryly. “You could say that.” A pause, and then— “Do you and Frank keep in touch, or—” she cuts off, and for a second Curtis wonders if the call dropped. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was completely unprofessional. Forget I said anything.”

Curtis knows he should leave it at that, but the tinge of resignation in her words is all too familiar. He remembers what he told Frank all those months ago, hoping this time it might sink in. Disappointed but unsurprised when it didn’t.

People are gonna care about you whether you want them to or not, Frank.

Karen’s one of the good ones. He knows that Frank knows it, too—and maybe that’s what pushes him to say something now, his better judgment be damned.

“Look, Karen, if I’m overstepping, you tell me to shove it, but—until last week, I hadn’t seen or heard from Frank in months. I know what it’s like to worry about the guy—hell, I wanted him to come back so I could kick his ass myself.”

That pulls a small laugh from the other end of the phone. “Get in line.”

“Yeah, so you get it,” Curtis says through a grin. “I love Frank like a brother, but the man drives me batshit more often than not.”

Karen sighs softly. “I want more for him, you know? More than—whatever the hell he thinks he’s doing out there.”

“I think, deep down, below all the bullshit—I think he wants that, too.”

Silence stretches over the line. “You’re a good friend,” Karen finally says. “It’s nice to know that Frank has one of those.”

“Hey, likewise,” Curtis replies, and he means it. He’s not sure he’ll ever forgive Frank if he lets this woman slip through his grasp.

“I’ll see you around?”

“Absolutely. I’m serious about group—don’t be a stranger.”

Curtis hangs up feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He’s still tempering his expectations for Frank—they’ve been down this road before—but maybe there’s a way out of the woods. Maybe they can both get back to the business of living.

He doesn’t put much stock in new-age bullshit like manifestation or destiny, but it does feel a little prophetic when Frank texts him later that afternoon: Nice article.

Yeah, I thought so, Curtis types back, followed up with a rose emoji just to see if Frank will take the bait.

He doesn’t have to wait long. His phone buzzes after a few seconds, and Curtis laughs when he reads Frank’s response, knowing the hit landed.

Shut up, Curt.

.

“—telling you, man, it’s a classic.”

“Yeah, maybe if you’re a middle-aged white lady.”

“Excuse me?” Lydia counters, spreading her arms. “Do I look middle-aged or white to you?” 

Rahul just shrugs and leans back in his seat. The conversation tonight had started simply enough before quickly devolving into an argument about books, of all things. Lydia had offered up a few that resonate with her, one of them being Pride and Prejudice. Rahul had looked at her like she was an alien, and now here they are.

“If it helps, I’ve read it too,” Curt cuts in. “I’ll admit it’s a little dense at first, but it’s a classic for a reason. Ultimately, it’s about acceptance. Not judging someone before you’ve gotten a chance to know them. That’s something all of us in this room can relate to, right?”

There are some begrudging nods, but Rahul shakes his head. “Nah, man. No way some English lady who lived, like, a hundred years ago knows anything about my life.”

Lydia scowls, but Curtis holds up a hand. “That’s a valid opinion. But I bet if you gave it a chance, you’d be surprised.”

“You talking about Jane Austen again, Curt?”

Heads swivel toward the source of the sound, and Curtis looks up to see Frank walking through the door. He pulls a chair off the rack and slides between Rahul and Lydia. “Sorry I’m late. And uh, for the record—her novels are the good shit.”

“Not you too, man,” Rahul groans. 

“Got me through one of my first tours,” Frank replies. He gestures at Curtis. “This guy wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about it, so I finally took the damn thing just to shut him up. Stayed up half the night reading it. Curtis knows his shit.”

Curtis feels himself smiling. “Good to have you back, Pete.”

It is. It really is.

Frank makes the rounds after group, catching up with all the vets he knew from before and even chatting with some of the newer members. Curtis catches Lydia fist-bumping him, and he almost shakes his head in disbelief. If someone had told him two weeks ago that Frank would be here, in this room, smiling and making small talk, he would’ve laughed right in their face.  

“Hey, man,” Rahul says, walking up to him. His face goes a little sheepish. “So, uh, if you have that book on you—”   

Curtis blinks. “You’re really gonna give it a shot?”

Rahul shrugs. “Yeah, I mean—you and Pete both think it’s, like, God’s gift to literature, or whatever, so how bad can it be?” He glances over his shoulder surreptitiously. “Just don’t tell Lydia, yeah?”

Curt claps him on the back. “Deal. I’ll bring it next week.” 

Rahul nods, then jerks his head in the direction of the door. “Hey, did you see who’s here?” 

Curtis frowns, peering over Rahul’s head in that direction—

Karen is standing beside Frank, her head thrown back in laughter at something that Lydia has said. She’s in her work clothes, but her hair looks a little glossier, and she’s definitely wearing lipstick. Curtis watches as Frank brings his hand to the small of her back in a gesture that’s effortless, like this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

Gather your rosebuds, Frank.

The bastard really did it. Curtis hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this for him—something to live for after the war was over. Now it’s happening right in front of him, unfolding in real time. It makes his chest ache a little. 

Karen catches Curtis’ eye and gently peels herself away. “Long time no see,” she says, coming up to him. “I would’ve been here tonight, but Ellison’s got us working overtime on this city councilman thing.”

Curtis nods. He’s heard a few things through the grapevine—embezzlement in the councilman’s office, real original—and he wondered if Karen would be following it. “Back to making headlines?” he quips. 

“Maybe just one more,” Karen laughs. 

Curtis tips his head in Frank’s direction. “So, guess he finally pulled his head out of his ass.”

Karen follows his gaze. The look on her face is in direct contrast to the one Frank was wearing last week, love and hope and so much warmth. It’s all the answer Curtis needs.

“About damn time,” he says.

Karen’s mouth curves into a soft smile. “No argument there. Hey, we were going to grab dinner at that new Thai place on 7th—you’re welcome to come with, if you’re not busy.”

Curtis considers it for a second, but the last thing he wants to be for either of them is a third wheel. They deserve some time for themselves. He has all the time in the world to give Frank shit about this; he’ll let him have one night of peace.

“Let me take a raincheck,” he says. “Next week sometime?”

“Next week is perfect,” Karen replies. “See you then.”

The other vets are trickling out now, waving and calling out goodbyes over their shoulder. Karen makes her way back over to Frank, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She leans in to say something in his ear, and he casts a glance back at Curtis. 

Curtis bobs his head once, and Frank returns the gesture, mouth creasing into a smile; then he turns and follows Karen out the door.

Curtis watches him leave, thinking he’s never been more happy to do so.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words 

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words 

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list. 

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words 

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words 

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list. 

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words 

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words 

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words 

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words 

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words 

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words 

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words 

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words 

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words 

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words 

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words 

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words 

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words 

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words 

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words 

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words 

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words 

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words 

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words 

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words 

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words 

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words 

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words 

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words 

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words 

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[artificialqueens]

Kids Have Terrible Timing (Biadore) - Sarcastacnt

Summary; One of Roy and Danny’s two daughters has a tendency to get over excited at the smallest things and at the worst possible time for her fathers.

“We can always return her right?”

“See, this is what happens when we trust your genes. Let’s take a second to notice how the spawn with my genes is basically a Saint compared to her sister.”

Danny pulled a face and whacked Roy with a pillow. “Not what you said when she ruin, how many of your gowns was it again? 9?”

“It was 15 and you know it.” Roy grumbled still puzzled at how the then five year old Sabrina had gotten a hold of the gowns, let alone figured out how to work his sewing machine. Something that still eluded Danny.

“Let’s just agree that they’re both evil in their own special ways.” Danny offered, trying desperately not to laugh at the pained expression on Roy’s face.

Roy snorted, “Not much longer until they go through puberty. That’s when we cash in all those offers to babysit from Shane.”

Danny groaned and flopped down dramatically against the bed. “Two teenage girls in one house. What the fuck were we thinking?”

Roy shrugged, “Probably that at least one of them would be a boy.”

Danny laughed, “At least then they wouldn’t bug to borrow our drag. Well, your drag.”

Roy laughed at the memory of the two dark haired girls gasping in disbelief at the room full of princess gowns and lumberjack clothing. “Still can’t believe how good that read was, fucking lumberjack.” He was still snickering when Danny decided he was no longer comfortable laying on the bed.

With a surge of power from his left leg he moved to straddle Roy’s hips. “You’re the one who married a lumberjack Haylock.”

Roy automatically dropped his hands to rest on Danny’s thighs. “You married a princess, least I’m still gay in this version of reality.”

Danny snorted, “Whatever, that makes you a princess, least I’m still a man.” He leaned forward and licked Roy’s neck before whispering in his ear. “Although every single time I’ve fucked you while you were dressed as a princess was hot as hell. You really should let me fuck you in drag more often.”

Roy let out a groan as Danny squirmed on his lap. “Why would I put a bunch of clothes on for sex? Doesn’t being naked make everyone’s lives easier?”

Danny began kissing Roy’s jaw, taking a familiar path down to the collar of Roy’s shirt. “I meant when we preform asshole.” He said as he started to work the buttons of Roy’s shirt open.

Roy rolled his eyes, “Because normally after we preform you’re so fucking horny that you beg to get fucked.” Roy brought both hands crashing down on Danny’s ass, “Remember?”

Danny started to kiss his way down Roy’s chest now that the button down was pushed open. “Fuck yeah I do.” He looked up at Roy, eyes gone a little glassy with arousal. “Speaking of which, it’s been quiet for almost an hour. We should probably take advantage while we can.”

Roy chuckled and began to tug at Danny’s shirt. “You’re absolutely right.” When Danny didn’t move to remove his shirt quick enough, Roy rolled them so he was on top. He quickly pulled off the light sleep pants Danny wore and began stroking the already half hard cock. “Doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?” he teased before taking Danny’s erection into his mouth.

“Never has.” Danny admitted before groaning at the very talented tongue that was quickly turning his brain to mush.

Roy held out his hand, without stopping the blow job and Danny reached blindly for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand. He pushed it into Roy’s hand before letting his head fall back against the pillows.

Wasting no time, Roy lubed up two fingers and pressed them into Danny. It only took a few thrusts before Danny was demanding that Roy ‘stop fucking around and put your dick in me!’. With such a sweet request, how could Roy refuse? He pushed his own sleep pants down and lubed up his erection before taking a second to tease Danny’s entrance.

“Fuck me Roy!” Danny demanded, his hips lifting off the bed in frustration.

“Fine, but next time we have time I’m gonna make you pay for being an Impatient bitch.” Roy said as he grabbed Danny’s hips and started to push himself inside-

“DADDY!!!”

*CRASH, SLAM, BANG*

Roy didn’t know how he did it but somehow he got both of them covered up under the blanket before 6 year old Stevie managed to scramble up on the bed.

“Stevie remember how we talked about knocking? And you’re not listening to me at all, are you?” Roy sighed as he swung his legs over the far side of the bed and pulled his pants up. Danny had no chance to pull anything on, Stevie was not only on the bed but sitting happily on Danny’s stomach.

“Daddy! I found something cool! You gotta come see this!” the little girl had a big grin on her face as she waved her hands in the air. Stevie’s grin was an exact match for Danny’s (pre lip injections, of course). In fact Stevie was the spitting image of Adore, especially on the odd occasion her fathers put her in make up. Not only was the physical resemblance strong but both Stevie and Danny were two of the loudest people Roy had ever met.

A quiet knock at the open door caught Roy’s attention. He looked up to see blue eyed eight year old Sabrina shaking her head in exasperation. “Sorry dad, I tried to remind her to knock but…” she trailed off with a shrug, gesturing to the excited noises coming from the bed as Stevie and Danny talked about something Roy couldn’t quite catch.

Roy chuckled, “It’s okay, I understand my love. What were you two doing anyways? I thought we said goodnight an hour ago.”

Sabrina walked around the bed, giving it a wide berth. She had walked too close to the bed once during a similar situation just in time for Stevie to launch herself off the bed (much to her fathers horror) and land on not only her feet but her sister’s as well. “I showed her a book.”

Roy ached an eyebrow, “Why is she so excited about a book.”

Sabrina made a huffing noise as she crawled up on the bed to sit next to Roy. “There were no pictures in it.”

“You’re telling me your sister is losing her mind over a book, without pictures?” Roy could feel his eye start twitching.

Sabrina nodded, “Are you sure she’s really my sister?” she eyed Roy suspiciously.

Roy sighed, they had this conversation every few weeks. “Yes Rini, you both have the same mother, remember?” Roy remembered the initial thrill when they discovered that the surrogate they had used for Sabrina was more then happy to take on another pregnancy for the pair when they decided to expand their family a year and a half later.

“Are you really sure? Did you check?” Sabrina grilled her father as she watched Stevie and Danny (who had managed to pull pants on while he was distracted with Sabrina) rush out of the room to get a look at this ‘amazing book’ that Stevie had discovered.

“Yes Rini I’m a hundred percent sure she’s your sister. Besides she acts just like Dad, doesn’t she? I promise she’s part of this family.”

Sabrina frowned, “Whatever. I’m gonna go make sure they don’t break my stuff.” She hopped off the bed, her long twin braids floating behind her as she stormed off after them.

Roy fell back into bed and began laughing uncontrollably. He had no idea which part of the last five minutes he found so funny. The interrupted sex, Stevie’s excitement over a book without pictures or Sabrina’s continued irritation that her sister was insane.

Tears were streaming down his face, high pitched giggles still escaping him and abdominal muscles cramping when Danny returned.

“She’s nuts.” Danny proclaimed as he flopped down next to Roy.

A minute later, Roy managed to get his laughter under control. “Was she really that excited over a book with no pictures?”

Danny nodded, eyes wide in disbelief. “War and Peace! I didn’t know books could get that big! That shit’s more complicated then anything I ever read!”

Roy nodded, “Katya was reading it last time her and Trixie were over with their hellspawns. She probably forgot it here.” They almost always used drag names when referring to Brian and Brian just to save themselves the confusion.

Danny snorted, “Least we had time to breathe between kids. I don’t know how they managed 3 at once! Like who even has triplets?”

“Trixie and Katya do, poor bastards. If two teenage girls seems like a nightmare waiting to happen, imagine three hormonal teenage boys. The structural damage alone may just bankrupt them! If those two weren’t bald already that’s what would finally do it. Trying to figure out how much to add to the budget for household repairs every week.” Roy mused, choosing to ignore the fact that while he and Danny did in fact have one less kid, one of said kids shared genetic material with Danny. Roy hoped, not for the first time that Stevie calmed down as she got older. Last thing he needed was one of his daughters proudly proclaiming to be a ‘messy slut’. The thought of the generally sweet (if loud) Stevie strutting around in a mini skirt and low cut shirt made Roy shiver in fear.

“We’re never gonna have sex again, are we?” Danny half heartedly complained, lacing his fingers with Roy’s as they looked at each other with tired smiles on their faces.

Roy released Danny’s hand and rolled so he was on top of his husband. “So dramatic.” Roy teased as he captured Danny’s lips in a breath taking kiss.

It wasn’t long before Danny was a moaning, begging mess under him. Roy sighed in relief as he entered Danny roughly, rather pleased with himself for the broken sound that tore itself from Danny’s lips.

“DADDY!!!!”

“I’m taking her back!” Danny proclaimed loudly as Roy pulled away from him and managed to get their pants back on before Stevie came flying into their room again. This time she was screaming something about the ‘coolest bug ever!

Wasn’t parenting fun?

A/N Thank you to the annon who requested a kid fic where Roy and Danny keep getting interrupted. Swore I’d never write one of these but hey, here we are! I’m also tempted to continue this but for the moment it stands alone.

The girls names; Stevie is named for Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac fame and Sabrina is name for an alternative name for a boat neck collar. I know nothing about fashion so that’s what a quick Google search pulled up.

As for the teasing each other about which kid has which genes, it doesn’t mean they love either kid less then the other. I think most parents like to harass their partner about who is responsible for which less desirable trait their off spring demonstrates. Like when Sarabi says to Mufasa in The Lion King “Before sunrise, he’s your son.”

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 109

The hill was basked in moonlight even though there was no moon. It was quiet. It was peaceful. Wade felt happier than at almost any other moment.

The cowled figure stood over him as he lay on the soft, sweet-smelling grass and he grinned up at the skull beneath it. “Lady Death!” he exclaimed. He clasped his hands over his heart. “Sweet mistress of my heart! It has been too long!”

Lady Death chuckled, the laughter booming oddly through the skull. “Always too long. And yet, never long enough,” she said as she looked gently over him. Her voice softened, and if she’d had flesh Wade imagined it would pull back in a smile. “You do not belong here anymore. Your heart has been tethered elsewhere.”

Wade opened his mouth to protest that no, it hadn’t—and blackness surrounded him. He opened his eyes to see—

He was sitting on a couch. On his couch, in his apartment. He looked around in confusion—how had that happened? It didn’t seem possible.

A soft sigh alerted him to the figure beside, on the couch. He looked over to see—Peter, curled up against his side. And now that he recognized the younger man, he noticed the warmth of the man curled against him. “Something wrong?” the younger man asked, blinking his eyes lazily, like a cat.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, but Wade couldn't figure out quite what it was. He knew it needed dealt with quickly. “I don’t know,” he said softly, voice quavering. What? What was it?

He looked back at the young man beside him as Peter chuckled. He looked up at Wade, glasses falling adorably down his nose, and pushed them back up with a single finger.

He didn’t even have time to react before Wade’s hands were around his neck, squeezing the life out of the clone.

Wade’s eyes opened for just a moment to see—the clean, sterile environment of a lab.

[What?]

{How?}

He was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes. Warmth filled his chest as he thought of how the two of them had finally moved in together. It had even been Peter’s idea. He calmly moved the now done pancakes (dick shaped, because of course) to a plate before pouring more pancake batter into the pan.

Two thin, familiar arms wrapped around Wade’s waist and a face pressed itself in his back. “Mmm,” Peter mulled sleepily, “smells good.”

Wade chuckled warmly as the warmth in his chest heat a little more. “I told you, I’m the pancake king!”

“Mmm,” agreed Peter. “Will His Majesty grace me with a good morning kiss?” he asked.

Wade chuckled, flipped the pancakes, and turned. He leaned down to kiss Peter and stopped halfway bopping his nose lightly with a finger. “Boop,” he said teasingly. Peter smiled.

His nose didn’t twitch.

Wade was even faster this time.

[Stop!]

{How?}

Wade was standing in a lab watching Peter work. Not one of the labs he’d seen Peter in, but a lab nonetheless. “So how do you like having your own lab?” he asked Peter.

Peter turned and grinned. “It’s pretty great,” he said leaning against the counter. The liquid in the beaker behind him, precariously balanced over a burner, began to boil. “This was a good idea.”

“Hmm,” agreed Wade seeing, once again, how sexy his boyfriend looked in the lab coat. “You sure you don’t want to play doctor?” he asked as he tried to waggle an eyebrow suggestively. He never knew if he succeeded or not, when he was wearing the suit.

Peter raised an eyebrow of his own in return. “Not in front of the cameras,” he said firmly with a crooked grin. “I don’t want everybody and Stark seeing us.”

“Oh, that could be kinky.”

Peter laughed, turned, and pulled the beaker off the burner before pouring the liquid into another, larger beaker on a tray with three others that had mysterious liquid in them. “There,” he said with satisfaction. “These just need to set overnight. How do you feel about going out to dinner tonight?”

“Mexican?”

“Of course,” Peter answered.

“Of course!” Wade replied. He held out an arm. There was something odd about it—about the color—

Peter tucked his own arm into the crook of Wade’s and the thought flew away. “Where do you think we should go?” he asked as they walked down the corridor to the elevator.

“Oh, I know a taco truck,” Wade said breezily. Peter gave an odd little snort-chuckle and Wade continued, “It’s good! Trust me! And not only does it taste good,” he added as they made their way to the street—

Since when did Peter work so close to the street?

“You’re zoning,” Peter said calmly, breaking the thought.

Wade gave himself a shake. “I guess I am,” he said thoughtfully. “Anyway—where was I?”

“If this taco truck gives you such a bad memory, I’m not sure we should eat there,” teased Peter.

“Oh, no!” gasped Wade as they walked. “It’s a crime against nature!” They passed by an alley mouth with a street child in it.

Peter didn’t even glance in the child’s direction.

Wade was just as fast this time and opened his eyes into the sterile, stainless steel lab to see a young man sitting across from him, wearily rubbing his eyes. The young man, Asian-looking with a dyed pink streak in his hair and piercings marching up one ear, sighed.

{Who the fuck is this bastard?}

[Why do we keep getting shoved to the back of your mind? We don’t like it there!]

“Deadpool, Deadpool, Deadpool,” the young man said. “Oh, Deadpool.” He flung his head back, letting it drape over the chair he was in before looking at Wade again. “This would be a lot easier if you stop fighting me,” he commented.

“Who the fuck are you?” growled Wade.

“Don’t let it bother you. Either this works, and you become a paid employee of Oscorp—and the benefits are great if you don’t mind working for a stone cold psychopath—or it fails and you kill us all.” The young man sighed and leaned forward again. “I need a break. Want anything? Some water, juice, beer? Something to eat? We’ve got an Irish cook this week and her shepherd’s pie is almost to die for.”

“I’d rather have tacos,” grunted Wade.

The young man sighed. “You’re just a few months too late for tacos, Deadpool, and I’m not allowed to leave until the situation with you has been handled. Anything else?”

“Beer would be good.”

“Right.” The young man stood up and walked out of the lab, whistling a low tune.

[What the fuck happened? How did we get here?]

{Where are we?}

Wade wasn’t certain, but he was pretty sure that he was in Oscorp. His brain thrust the image of the woman he’d tried to help, the one that had stabbed him in the leg and injected him with something.

{Doesn’t that guy know we don’t kill people anymore?}

[stray-tori]

TPN S02E09 - Initial Thoughts (anime-only)

[ Reaction video w/ captions/subs ] we collectively have a breakdown about the pen, please enjoy it pff-

.

... hmmm... yeah I... ain’t feeling it. I think my tpn feelings overall are carrying this more than anything pff. I didn’t hate it, it was just...... mediocre... like if this wasn’t tpn, I probably would have dropped it at this point.

BUT IT IS TPN SO LET’S GIVE SOME THOUGHTS.

.

. Random thoughts I don’t want to re-arrange

when Emma was like “share your pain with us!!”, I liked how Norman turned to Ray like “Ray. help. tell her I’m right” kind of like Ray did in s1 pfff-

Norman cried the words he didn’t allow himself to say in s1 :( I’M EMOTIONAL. it might not be the icing on the cake execution wise but GOD MY HEART. And knowing he’s going to die to it’s just- (well not if the pen has something to say about it but more about that later)

where- wheres my trio hug :((( RAY HUG THE CHILD NOW

it’s interesting that while Emma got the entire emotional speech spotlight, only Ray got a reaction shot to “I won’t live long”?? equivalent.... exchange...?

I thought Norman had a seizure when he broke down in front of Emma and Ray and I kinda wish he had because while it’s good to have him say it outright (a win for communicationnn), imagine THE ANGST. “I want to live with yo- *coughs up fountains of blood*”.

So. yknow that hideout Cislo or Vincent referenced when talking to Emma and Ray. Yknow where Norman hid the children they stole from farms, making it look like demons did it? ... w-what about them? will we see them? Are they getting left behind? it would have worked for Norman’s plan, since all they had to do was stay put and wait for demons to be yeeted. But now... he’d have to take them all too. But... I doubt we’re gonna introduce a bunch of new designs and characters? Or are we? Who knows. I don’t. I have unreasonably amount of protecc feelings for those children I’ve never even seen haha- WHERE ARE THEY. I mean... the plan rn is to immediately use the gate right? or is the plan to eradicte the GF farm staff and higher ups? I guess if thats the plan it might work. Or I guess the plan is to save Phil for now???

the idea of Sonju just... slicing his arm and throwing it at demons in a loop sounds so funny to me please someone make that.

I liked that Mujika turned to the lambda kids after giving a cup to the demon children but then we didn’t see their reaction or anything and then it cuts to the temple??? that was weird. was there sth missing there? confusion.

I also like Isabella remarking "[a radio] was supposed to be there" regarding the shelter, because it further heavily implies they know of the shelters and just let them be. Which further confirms that they should have just reframed the shelter and had the kids escape from it quickly but oH WELL.

I really liked demon Emma apologizing and Norman's reaction to that. it was a sweet little moment and like, the realization of apologizing for something that she didn't do but is aware of and all that. Cycle of hatred and all that shiz hell ye. Ik the anime won't rly delve into that but I kind of relish in the angst potential of the village - sure it was undone but some were still eaten and died and transforming people back won't bring those back. So, that’s some hella terrifying implications for families; and I'm assuming Norman is aware of those so. guilt time! not that he wasn't aware it was bad but yeah- I teared up at that moment :<<

I feel like this season really does its best when it’s doing the whole two worlds/species angle. Mujika and Sonju, the village, demon and human Emma... all that stuff.

I wish we had gotten more time (god this is really the season’s downfall) thought to see Vylk talk to the GF kids more often. it’s implied he told them not to hang out there before but I would have liked to have him show up a few more times before that but yeah. Runtime very RIP.

I also feel like CW is bending over backwards to put cliffhangers at the end of episodes. that was already a problem in s1 when they had Phil come in when Don and Gilda were in Isabella's room. it was obvious it'd be a copout but they still did it. I'm just wondering why we had to have Vincent disagree with the group to this extend (and if the shock value might play a part in that). we have 2 more episodes, why are they introducing more plot threads? Just streamline it you dofuses. I just don't know what good can come of it unless it's like an ultra big brain move to help them?? (and then we're back with the forcing cliffhangers thing) - if it's actual conflict, this'll just make things more confusing and clustered, and we don't have time for that right now imo. But who knows maybe it plays into something I just don't understand yet and it'll work out somehow

.

. Animation flow kinda dead.

I felt like this episode was kind of... awkwardly executed whenever something that was a slightly dynamic movement happened?

The whole bit while Emma is walking up to Norman could have been better, but it’s passable, except that a lot is spelled out for us.

But then she takes his hand really weirdly in a far away shot with bad inbetween timing?? what is that haha-

Or him collapsing is cut really weirdly. you barely really see it, you just kinda piece it together from Emma’s reaction and her catching him.

Most facial expressions are good though, which is arguably the more important part in this scene. I feel like a better execution just would have elevated it even more.

The only one I felt was really awkward in its entirety is Barbara’s scene with the children demons. I felt like that was in particular kind of stiff and the cut between the child and her was too sudden and felt jarring. TPN anime doesn’t really do that sort of stuff a lot, so imo it’s kind of “??” when they do it. With Norman it was too, but that at least had a good transition over to it (with bg and fg panning) and nice animation. Barbara’s just kind of switched. Tbh don’t switch it out, and as the child screams, switch over to her facial expression as her own voice fades into the scream? I think that would have done it too and also be low effort.

I think it’s moreso the flow of the shots than the actual shots though? it’s a bit too fast paced and sometimes missing inbetweens (like the wild demon eating sonju’s hand is literally just 2 frames) - it’s very weird. It’s jarring, but I can’t really explain why.

I’m sorry for the staff, I’m sure the production hasn’t been easy. maybe with the bluray release we’ll get some updated animations/inbetweens.

Some appreciation though:

as mentioned, most of the facial expressions, even if the body language was a bit stiff.

the cut from the trio talking to the eye-transition of the demon and the following breath animation looked nice. Also his arm regenerating!

Sonju smirking as he cuts his arm off, what a bastard

they didn’t have to show Vylk’s arm regenerating casually while they’re talking but they did.

.

. the lambda crew

If only I cared about you guys. Hahhh it’s just... introducing characters so close to the end is just. A mess. A recipe for disaster.

Where has the anime’s “show off the younger kids” angle gone? I thought they were always pretty good at that. but they haven’t really contributed anything since the whole tidbit about the older children always eating less for them. And even then it was just Lani and Thoma.

Potentially, what segments we saw in the shelter will come back for the GF raid thematically but I’m just... EH?

.

. the cure pen

at this point, just stick a syringe part at the end of the stick and just inject it and it’s gonna solve everything probably.

I just don’t understand why that needed to happen. Assuming they go to the human world, it’d be perfectly acceptable for me for medicine to be so advanced that it’d be able to like, lessen their symptoms and significantly improve their lifespan.

Don’t just... REMOVE their struggles. It’s okay to not be normal and cured. it’s okay for their lives to be impacted by it going forward. In fact, I’d much prefer that.

(added in later) OH wait they literally spell out why the cure being in the pen is meaningful - because it opens up a path where they can live through not having annihilated all the demons - it's essentially the moral "reward" for not killing them. Since they probably wouldn't have gotten it if they did that. I still think it wasn't needed and the blueprint on its own would suffice for another pen-convinience moment but I kind of get what they're going for, I just don't think it's worth it . In their case, going to the human world (while they don't know it) means having more medical expertise at their disposal which they can then use to survive. UNLESS they're actually not welcome over there and have to hide or something, in that case... that might be hard, true. I guess I'll come back to think about this once it's over. For now, it feels kind of unearned and it wouldn’t even have to be this way in my eyes which makes it somewhat worse.

But good, let’s say in-universe you need it NOW, then at least don’t put??? the medicine??? recipe??? INTO the hologram.

What if they just checked the GF blueprint and Norman goes “hey, Vincent... do you think this [database/archive room] could have some data on our experiments?” - Norman said he tried to develop a drug to help them but the supporters who had that data were purged. but... they had Smee to help them too. But SOMEHOW, a dude from 15 years ago just HAS the cure??? (at least let Norman develop it himself and have the data be just THE DATA and not the recipe).

It might still check out somewhat??

15+ years ago, James Ratri was assumingly still the gatekeeper since the switch to Peter seems somewhat recent considering his big "era of James has ended" speech.

I guess the implication is that just like Smee => Krone => Norman, a supporter all that time ago gave random person the pen when they escaped.

When Vylk found him, he also had just the data medium of the pen (not the entire pen), so maybe the farm thought they eliminated it and that’s why they didn’t change their methods to not work with those drugs anymore? It's still a bit curious that their experimentation hasn't changed at all in 15 years but maybe that's because they keep killing the smart people instead of making them scientists to research for them :D

Somewhere since those 15 years, Smee gave Krone the pen (probably a few years before she got to GF?), which means that at that point the gate the keyword "future" sent them to, was still in tact when Smee gave Krone the pen. Maybe WM wasn't discovered yet at that point?

then WM got discovered, James was chased. He made that phonecall update and was probably eventually killed, along with the human location (and likely bunkers since they knew a radio was supposed to be there, begs the question why they didn't remove it) being discovered (the one with the future keyword) and the gate there being destroyed.

The problem is just that it can make sense when you think about it for way too long and assume things in good-faith, but it still feels unearned.

Maybe I would care more or this would feel a little more earned if we knew ANYTHING about that person? They seemed fairly young, so it’s probably not Minerva/James Ratri. The “hope” talk reminded me of the book in the shelter, but I’m not sure if that checks out either? The cookies were rotten but not completely. I know cookies hold out relatively long, but would they rly not be completely rotten after 15 years? I MEAN. Maybe not. Who knows. I tried to google it but didn’t find anything. 

But anyway. That tidbit is going into my “shelter kids OC project” I guess.

But even if the worldbuilding makes sense, I think the data set in itself makes little sense?? How did they find that pen part? Did a supporter give it to them? Why do they have the cure? Clearly their group of escapees wasn’t doing too hot (#help) and they seemed relatively young too so they probably couldn’t have worked in the farm.

Were the shelter escapees lambda escapees? but if that was the case, wouldn’t the WM group have secured the cure information more properly than in just one pen (maybe it was and those were just destroyed, to be fair) - it’s just WEIRD to put the cure for Lambda experiments on the same blueprint as the GF layout??? that makes so little sense.

Plus, why would you send them to GF, when it’s so secured and all that, and not just send them to the human support place our GF kids were sent with the “future” keyword, which had a gate. Maybe it didn’t exist 15 years ago (that the humans had control over it, that is), but even then it seems weird to me to imply to send them to GF instead of one of the other gates that existed. I mean. The “future” location’s gate wasn’t destroyed when Krone got the pen right?

I’m guessing maybe it was meant as help for escaping? But then again, why the cure? I guess if they met lambda experiments? I’m just confused.

Also: do we just accept that the layout of GUARDS and SECURITY MEASURES has not changed in 15 years???

.

*sigh* welp. Still looking forward to seeing some stuff with Isabella hopefully. Time... is not on their side and it shows. Neither run-time wise nor production wise.

[roccinan]

1/? simply because you have the most galaxy brain thoughts ever,,, what do you think would've happened if they waited until s5 to reveal sergio and andrés were (half)brothers?

i do know that when my fam started watching lcdp at first i was so put off. like i watched ep 1 and the prof creeped me out. ""berlin"" creeped me out. e v e r y o n e creeped me out. and i was cringing so hard becz of the short lived romance angle with alison parker. i literally did not watch s1 at all xcept for like sneak peeks. highlights being the scene where berlin discovers monica is alive and does his dramatic door by door thing? that was so SUSPENSEFUL even tho i had no idea what was going on. DOMINGO DE RESURECCION remains forever iconic.

2/? And OF COURSE the group bella ciao dance when they hit earth (hahah i thought the banda were actually like a "found family where they all love each other LOL") i am a SUCKER for found family. but anyhoo when i properly got intrigued was s2 when tokyo was kicked out (the music from that scene is still my favourite) it's just so dramatic..!! why am i telling u all this again? right, i haven't slept a wink and it's nearly 7 am pls forgive me if these rambles make no sense. i have a point with this.. i'm going somewhere

RIGHT. so when the fam actually rewound the ep cz i wanted to know WHY berlin did that (didn't fully realise how batsht crazy he can be), the russian roulette scene played. and pedro's acting. MAN. and like just that ep they made a point of showing us these flashbacks where sergio and andrés hug....

Hi anon! Thanks for stopping by- sorry took me a while to get back to you, will do my best to answer this string of messages (got all 4 parts)! Glad you like my thoughts XD

Firstly, I believe Andres/Sergio would be the biggest LCDP ship if the writers were evil enough to wait until s5 to reveal that they’re brothers asdfasdf. They’re already the two most popular male characters anyway. 

It’d be especially crazy because it’s not like they tell the actors these things beforehand either. So that means there’d probably be a Serdres vs Berlermo vs Serquel fight every 5 minutes. I mean, even if not everyone agrees on everything in the lcdp fandom, it’s the most “peaceful” one I’ve ever been in because no character really gets in the way of any other ship (like even with helermo and berlermo there’s no true conflict since Andres is dead). But with Serdres in the mix?? CATASTROPHE. Everyone out here writing essays about how much of a bastard/bitch/homewrecker/motherfucker that Andres or Sergio or Martin or Raquel is. Never a moment’s peace!! so basically, a regular fandom lmao.

Then when we find out they’re brothers, it goes from catastrophe to Apocalypse. Suddenly serquel and berlermo have the upper hand. Everyone would double down and harass the crew/cast into whatever’s going on.  Plot-wise, everything is the same though, just without Andres calling Sergio “hermanito.” Fandom however, would be a minefield! And I’m glad that’s not the case because I’d probably be an unfortunate serdres shippers XD No joke, my mother and I thought they were a couple in S1. So bullet dodged!

Secondly: haha, everyone creeped me out in S1 too, especially Berlin, I hated him, but thinking back, I think I mostly hated the fact that I didn’t hate him as much as I should have. I’ve made peace with it now but oh boy, was he a controversial figure in my head. I actually like the professor on sight though! IDK why, maybe because I thought his plans were cool or because of Alvaro’s delivery. I was afraid of an Alison Parker romance thing too- like, I do feel like she had a storyline that got dropped, but that part was quite cringey and overall unnecessary to the plot. Same with Ariadna, which was even cringier and even Less necessary to the plot. 

Domingo de resurrecion was iconic though yes! And even with all that said, I genuinely enjoyed parts 1 and 2 because it was so different from anything else I’d seen. Not content wise, but maybe tonally? IDK, they were just really bold with a lot of things, like being objectively unafraid of having the protagonists (plural because all of them did LMAO) do objectively shitty things. Really kept me in suspense from beginning to end! 

I’m usually a big fan of found families too! The funny thing is, then banda never struck me as a “family” until season 3. In 1 and 2, I was wondering what felt different about this show; then it hit me that these people remained colleagues to the end. Like, they backstabbed each other (repeatedly) and everyone was quite selfish, and only the bonds that were already there stuck. They were the opposite of a found family LOL But I think by S3, they went down the found family route and I didn’t mind because it makes quite a lot of sense for them to feel that bond after the Mint heist and almost dying/living together (and having witnessed 3 deaths together on the team). But I still doubt Berlin and Palermo were ever really part of this found family, with good reason XD

LOL the scene where Tokyo got kicked out is also among my favorites!! It was so funny and dramatic, and it was like, wow we can go anywhere with this now! Don’t worry- your rambles and thoughts are always welcome :D

I’m rolling over how you watched the Tokyo expulsion scene before the Russian Roulette scene haha. Also yes, PEDRO. Berlin may have been “controversial” to me at first, but I became Pedro’s fan from day one! Also the Hug is probably what made me like Berlin (despite my determination to hate him rip) in the first place. 

3/? ... and like now that i think about it... tokyo had real guts huh. like she KNEW berlin was close enough to el prof to know his name (fhshshs imagine if she'd heard andrés saying 'hermanito' it's unrealistic that she didn't TBH. i mean obviously they decided to make them brothers only towards the end but like in canon universe. how tf did andrés de 'i raised my bby brother since he was 12 and i'd actually die for him and his stupidly brilliant plans' fonollosa go 5 months without slipping up once and calling sergio hermanito. or like,,, i like to imagine sergio kinda gave him lots of leeway(?) sergio's a lil oblivious too but like i'm sure half of it is.. that's my dumbass older bro shut up i'm not being partial you all have city names .. andr-berlin, pass the salt. like OOF. + sergio also knew his big bro was dYiNG so like. i'm sure they were sneaking in some quality time (i hope they did 😭 gosh imagine if sergio really did not ever consider the possibility of andrés dying in the heist so he'd tell himself he needs to perfect the plan now & anyway he'll have enough time to spend w/ his brother post heist in philippines. and then ... that happened :/

Tokyo has guts in place of braincells you bet that she’d do something like this, consequences be damned XD I also think it’s unrealistic for Andres not to slip up, but I have a feeling nobody besides Tokyo really tried to spy on them in private. I headcanon that Andres instead slips up and does things like ruffle Sergio’s hair or adjust his tie when other people are around. I also think Tokyo was convinced that they were a gay couple when she saw them hug XD And if Sergio never went on to tell the banda that Berlin was his brother, everyone would be giving Palermo such awkward looks after Nairobi accused him of being in love with Berlin LMAO. 

I agree! I also imagine Sergio giving Andres leeway because he’s just so used to interacting with his brother that way haha. So either he’d go out of his way to ignore Berlin in front of everyone else or IDK, borderline telepathically communicate with him. Not even “pass the salt” has to leave his mouth- Berlin just puts salt into his food and cuts it up for him, in front of everyone who’s just staring like O.O

I actually do think Sergio never considered the possibility of Andres dying in the heist because he was just that confident in his own plan. Plus, Andres was probably the one person he expected to survive. And a lot of it has to do with Sergio’s attachment to him + Andres’ own habit of downplaying any illness/injury over the years, which I think is safe to believe canon. He was really in no condition to be in the heist, let alone lead it. Just the fact that he needs to take those injections is a big sign that he shouldn’t be there, but Sergio didn’t catch it because he’s human and blinded by faith :’) So yeah, I think Sergio was planning to spend proper time with Andres in Palawan and at Toledo, they just settled for those little moments by the fireplace. 

4/? what always also just GETS me in the feels is that el prof was shown to be this in control creepily calm dude who is miles ahead of everyone. + in the 1st Toledo class itself we see how detached,, like how impersonal he is, how professional - choosing frickin CITY NAMES?! no 'personal relationships' ? (after recruiting his older brother, a father son pair, and war cousins... oh sergio 😂 he's such a frickin nerd and i love him) but like the earlier seasons really emphasised how robotic and down right COLD he can be. it still sometimes bothers me that he put the button in the car. he lead the police to his own damn brother, his blood, who took care of him and adopted him and was terminally ill and like - UGH i try to rationalise that sergio is that cold and unbothered. or that he has strict morals. but it still bothers me becz that button really sort of tipped andres' already unstable sanity. like andrés tells denver someth like you've robbed my future and after that he just seems so much more suicidal and accepting that he can't get out of the mint alive - WHY SERGIO WHY. I KNOW THAT AT THAT POINT YOU BASICALLY DIDN'T KNOW ANDRÉS WAS GOING TO BE YOUR BROTHER YET BECZ IT WASN'T WRITTEN IN THE SCRIPT BUT WHYYYYY

That’s so funny to me too LMAO No personal relationships, then he recruits these guys. Sergio, hello?? Also can’t forget how he just recruited his own girfrleind in the second heist too. Buddy! Love this nerd.

I don’t think that cold aspect of Sergio went away in later seasons either; he just had more opportunity to show a more open side of himself + without Andres, he had to metaphorically leave his comfort zone without a safety net. But in earlier seasons, he really did seem heartless at times XD Then again, we can argue that the same goes for Andres.

To be fair, I didn’t feel sorry for Andres over the button thing lol, but once the brothers reveal happened and all of Alvaro/Pedro’s headcanons came out and we know everything Andres did for Sergio, it makes what Sergio did REALLY harsh. We really just have to explain it through Sergio’s strict morals and him believing this to be the best non-fatal punishment for Andres, who at that point had convinced him he killed a hostage. And because he knew the television interview was coming up, maybe Sergio assumed Andres would use it to “clear” his name anyway. And empathy isn’t one of Sergio’s strong suits either, so through that lens, I can rationalize it.

Also it was lowkey funny to me how Andres was there like DENVER MUST DIE until he found out Sergio put the button there, then he was like “oh hermanito, you and your practical jokes <3″

Still, like you said, Andres and Sergio weren’t brothers yet at this point. They were probably supposed to be lovers lmao and had a dysfunctional Hannibal Lecter x Will thing going on. But because they made #hermanos canon, that button moment just feels very out of place now, especially given how much the two genuinely love each other.

Guess we could also say that Sergio’s just generally kinda bratty with Andres XD Like, he knows no matter what, Andres would forgive him anything. That’s how I see it anyway! 

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 66 – A Solution, a Dilemma, and an Ordeal

“Just as I’d thought.” 

Upon Frankenstein’s murmur, Takio and M-21 stuck out their faces from behind him towards the papers he was holding. 

Alas, they gave up straight away as their eyes locked upon the numbers, graphs, and charts incomprehensible for their level of knowledge.

Tao, the only person they could count on to translate them into human language(?) was busy fidgeting with the machine that just printed out the papers. 

Which is why they had to wait for Frankenstein to explain. 

And they showed the generosity of waiting until Tao could bring Yuigi from the machine. 

When the subject of the tests finally arrived, Frankenstein nonchalantly raised his glasses and began his lecture. 

“Simply put, I need to take a look at your head.” 

“What?” 

“Huh?” 

“Hmm?” 

Yuigi retorted in fluster, with Takio and M-21’s bafflement resonating in the background. 

Tao’s mouth was hanging open as well, his eyes very close to popping like a pair of balloons. 

“That was meant to be literal. There’s something in your head.” 

“...So Yuri that bastard did something under Crombel’s order, when I was imprisoned at his temporary lab.” 

Yuigi scowled as hard as she could and moved her hand to her temple.

She could not remember what happened back then, her memories blurry due to pain. 

She tried scrutinizing what was left of the pieces of her memories, but she could not find any scene holding Yuri doing something to her head.

Assuming it happened when she finally succumbed to pain, Yuigi focused her gaze upon Frankenstein, demanding more details.

Flapping the papers, Frankenstein landed upon the page about in the middle and turned it around for his small audience, displaying CT and MRI pictures of Yuigi’s head. 

The pictures were not so big, but the four of them could see very clearly something was there, their vision much more superior to normal human vision. 

They could see an array of spots, each of them much more miniscule than grains of sugar, scattered in the area where her frontal lobe would be. 

“I don’t need to tell you what I want you to look at, do I?” 

“No. But what’s this? Did something get into Miss Yuigi’s head?”

“Yup. I recalibrated that machine according to my manual, and I believe Crombel planted nanochips in your head, Yuigi.” 

“Nanochips...? Are you saying all those spots are...” 

Yuigi’s body heaved, as if she were just notified that the dinner she had yesterday was infested with cockroach eggs. 

“When I...” 

Frankenstein’s lips were shut in the course of his reply. 

The pull between his lips were so natural, like the sort that would exist only between two poles of a magnet. 

Which is why no one noticed that it was not his intention to halt in the middle. 

Calming himself by fingering his glasses, Frankenstein restarted himself as smoothly as he could. 

“When I left this place, I could get my hands on several files and data on the Union. Some of them were about Union arts and crafts we weren’t aware of, including this technique that employs nanochips. Since Union's main focus was on the mastery of body modification, nanochips were not exactly the favorite from Union’s shelf of goods. But I wouldn’t say they completely disregarded this technology, since it’s on the list of items that none other than Ignes took her time and effort and resources to study.” 

“So are you saying the nanochips in my head are Ignes’s creation?”

“Either Crombel snuck away her recipe to dissect and put it back up in a fashion he prefers. Or she stole some of the ingredients he was handling.” 

“So what exactly does this thing do?” 

“Consider it a remote control to make a marionette out of its host. One of the features of this nanochip happens to be automatically appropriating the host’s control over its body when the host finds itself in mortal danger, so to make sure the host will stay alive as long as its puppeteer wants.” 

The four humans gaped at him, confusion clear on their faces, and Frankenstein continued on, probably having foreseen this. 

“Remember what happened when I had a rematch with the 1st Elder right before our final showdown against Crombel? Back then he was under Crombel’s control. He served as Crombel’s battle figure, his mind in one piece, with only minimum amount of life force left in him.” 

“...With his willpower trapped within, watching and hearing and experiencing how his body is not his...?”

Yuigi muttered, the only one who did not take part in the aforementioned battle, apart from Tao, who had had wire updates on the situation. 

The three members of the RK knew why she looked so stunned when she had nothing to do with this occasion. 

“So... You’re saying the nanochips that Yuri injected into Miss Yuigi are...” 

“They were probably the prototype of the technology Crombel used upon the 1st Elder. You said when you were fighting with that Kornel guy, you couldn’t even speak before you had an outbreak of emotions and broke free from the unwelcome disconnection of your mind from body, right? Unlike you, at least 1st Elder could offer some words to me back then.” 

“Wait a minute. The gas we fired was based on a sample of Yuigi’s DNA.” 

“So maybe all the people who went through body modification are plagued with...” 

“Oh, don’t worry. The results show that the mechanism of body appropriation derives solely from these nanochips. And as you can see, these nanochips were inserted only in specific parts of her brain. So the victims won’t turn back to pseudo-zombies.” 

“So once these nanochips are gone...” 

“You can return to who you are. I’ll soon come up with a treatment, so I’d appreciate it if you could take your time and wait.” 

Yuigi nodded in affirmation, but in reality Frankenstein knew there was no need for a treatment. 

The only thing Frankenstein had to do was to draw out just enough power he needs to destroy the nanochips within all at once. 

However, he had to coin a specific treatment for the sake of another soul who was unofficially booked for a doctor’s appointment with him. 

Another reason why Frankenstein scurried from Lukedonia upon hearing Yuigi’s symptoms from Tao. 

And something that had been poking needles into his sanity way before the QuadraNet project joined to add trouble to his side. 

‘Lord Muzaka said that during the nuclear missile incidence, his body scrammed from the site on its own. Which would most certainly mean his body saved itself from mortal danger. I bet I can find the exact same nanochips in his head as well.’ 

If he were to be honest with himself, Frankenstein was dying to use this opportunity to his benefit, to broider the front and back of the werewolf lord’s head with big, fat, angry marks from his grasp. 

‘But I have no reason to turn the entire wolfkind into my enemy, after everything that has happened. Not to mention Lunark won’t be happy if she later finds out what...’ 

At then his hand froze in the middle of its frenzied waltz across Yuigi’s test results. 

It was neither in his intention nor in his cognition, yet his thoughts darted themselves right back to Lunark before he could stop them.

In fact, he was stunned for a moment back when he mentioned Ignes’s studies, for he was reminded of the werewolf warrior who visited his island to hand the files of the noble whom he destroyed himself. 

Now that his mind summoned Lunark twice, everything he regarded he had left behind in Lukedonia – his thoughts about her, his deliberation on her, and his feelings for her – cascaded right into his heart to cause furious ripples.

He came back to Korea to seek time to himself, but seemingly fate did not want him to waste his time taking refuge. 

Towards the room that the RK and Yuigi emptied, the sound of footsteps that Frankenstein would always notice regardless of time and place drew near. 

Which was a sign that he could hide no longer. 

“Master.” 

Raizel’s face was blank despite Frankenstein’s greeting, a natural response from a non-talkative noble. 

Which was why Frankenstein momentarily lost his control over his facial profile when Raizel dispensed a verbal reply to his greeting. 

“Still afraid, are you?” 

Raizel’s words drew Frankenstein’s ears right back to Earth, the blonde man mincing his lips. 

“Frankenstein. You treasure her.” 

Raizel usually leaves others untouched in terms of their emotional states, in respect of their respective owners. 

Yet here he was, volunteering to unwrap the subject as soon as he made his arrival, especially at a time like this, which gave Frankenstein good idea of how much he had been in anguish. 

And now that the topic was out in the open with Raizel’s courtesy, Frankenstein knew somehow sneaking past this topic is not an option for him. 

Considering where he was standing at this point, he knew he should at least touch on – no, definitely put an end to this dilemma. 

“I believe you already know she treasures you just as same. You would know the colors of symphony in your hearts have been identical for a long time.” 

Frankenstein’s lips were unmoving, his tongue dormant. 

“Know I well what you dread. You must have dreaded harming Lunark even little under the influence of the Dark Spear, as Lascrea attested. Remember I of how the Dark Spear absorbed Crombel and the shards of Blood Stone to attain greatest power in its history. And with Lunark recovering from the harm caused by the Dark Spear, I can feel how haunting the guilt of your heart is.” 

“...Then you would know. You would know that is exactly why I don’t deserve to...” 

“Do you still believe you will be a harm to her?” 

As mellifluous as crimson silk was Raizel’s voice, but Frankenstein had centuries of experience with his master to pick up how his tone steeled by the smallest of the shade. 

Which is why he unconsciously began retracing the facts instead of losing his words. 

“...No. I can no longer detect Crombel or Blood Stone within the Dark Spear.” 

Frankenstein was telling the truth. 

Although he had no chance to look back on exactly what Lunark did to him, too occupied with agony while standing guard by her bed, he could feel how the Dark Spear returned to how it used to be before it absorbed Crombel and the Blood Stone. 

“Then no more is the reason for you to hesitate, is there?” 

Frankenstein was dumbstruck, the answer so very simple and clear. 

The reason why he had been staying away from those dear to him, Lunark included, was because he feared he will lose his battle of dominance against the Dark Spear and manifest as a weapon threatening them. 

His fear grew even more humongous ever since the nightmare of effigies the Dark Spear staged for him. 

But now that the Dark Spear can no longer be a nightmare for him, there was no reason for him to keep himself isolated any longer.

“What is the bidding of your heart? The choice is most definitely yours, but I have had my lessons from 820 years of sleep. Only logical for us it is to live our lives to fullest, with no regrets, during the time that is given to us. We must listen to our hearts for what they wish. We must follow the choices our hearts seek.” 

Raizel gazed at his most trusted follower, unmoving and silent. 

“I have already told you. The last thing you can save at the moment is time. So do not save your time. Use it well to look into your heart in wholesome.” 

“...Yes, sir. I shall do that.” 

Raizel, as always, did not linger after delivering all of his messages. 

Frankenstein stayed muted in solitude until he got moving; it was time to take a look at another patient he was tasked with, and Tao joined him in the middle, rather faster than what either of them expected. 

“Right now, we are the only ones tending to Mr. Jang. Now everyone at KSA knows about his betrayal, so nobody’s visiting him. Well, Sir Rael was the only one apart from us that...” 

Thanks to Tao, Frankenstein was reminded of the lesser son of the only one he could ever dub as his true friend for his life. 

Rael already left prior to his return to Korea, and being the heir of Kertias, the fastest of nobles, by now he would be officiating his homecoming in the Lord’s Hall. 

And Frankenstein heard from his team about the skirmish Rael had with none other than his own kind – with none other than a head of a noble clan. 

Tao was about to voice his concern for Rael while he was at it, but then he suddenly heard Frankenstein puffing out a ball of air. 

Did he just laugh when we’re discussing Sir Rael here?

Tao’s eyes bulged out, but Frankenstein did not let him stare at him, wiping off his face of his laughter and concern. 

‘What am I worried about? I should worry about myself. As of now, that boy will have no trouble at all.’ 

After a brief self-reprimand, Frankenstein began to strut ahead, with Tao tagging along and complaining at him to wait up. 

(next chapter)

Previously Raizel asked Lunark to take good care of Frankenstein. Now he’s telling Frankenstein to follow his heart. I didn’t plan or see this coming, but I made Raizel a matchmaker in my fic. XD As you would’ve noticed, next chapter will be featuring on Rael, through a scene that I had been dying to compose since the brainstorming stage for this fic. Stay tuned and find out how my boy is going through another growth in his career as a head of his clan!

(Edited) I just realized I posted this chapter instead of saving it as a draft - my mistake, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again! My apology for whoever that got confused with the early upload!

[tessatechaitea]

Justice League International #8 (1987)

Is it weird that I have a newsstand copy of a comic book when I definitely was shopping at my local comic shop in 1987?

This cover has so many jokes to talk about that I probably won't have time to review the entire issue. My stomach is already sore for laughing so hard! Look at how the box marked "fragile" is about to fall onto the floor thanks to the carelessness of Blue Beetle and Booster Gold! Ha ha! And they're carrying the large box upside down! According to the label on the upside down box, it's going to Paris, France so it must contain Crimson Fox who is almost certainly swearing in French because have you ever tried to masturbate while upside down in a box being jiggled by two men?! The incompetence of those guys is hilarious! But the best joke is the one where the only woman on the team doesn't lift a finger to help and also can't make up her mind about the placement of a gigantic box that hasn't been opened yet! See how funny that is? Because who cares where the box is placed?! It's not like they're moving a desk or an end table and Black Canary is coming up with a floor plan! It's just a box that will need to be opened and then broken down and then thrown out! The other funny part is that yellow spray around Beetle's head and the shape of his mouth because I think it suggests he's about to call Black Canary a bitch! Ha ha! I probably left out the joke about the hernia although that one might just be implied. Also, it'll probably be a blatant joke later in the story. The issue begins with Jack Ryder on his right-wing radio call-in television "news" program fiasco of a show Hot Seat trying to get the masses to shit blood over the Justice League. It'll work because the masses in comic books (as well as the masses not in comic books because we've all seen how people who listen to and watch right-wing radio call-in television "news" programs easily believe the alternate reality fed to them because it speaks to their inherent biases and selfishness) are idiots. (That might be my favorite interruption by parenthetical reference I've ever written.) I also know that it will work because Glorious Godfrey only recently did the same thing a year or two ago and it worked. But comic books don't recognize time and space in the same way that we more logical and real readers do so the masses won't remember that they were fooled just a year ago by idiotic television pundits who don't mind seeing the world burn as long as they can cash a fat check over it. I doubly also know it will work because Millennium is coming up and I think that might be proof that maybe Jack Ryder was sort of right because aliens have infiltrated Earth and are pretending to be heroes and possibly even right-wing radio call-in television "news" hosts. I don't really remember much about Millennium except that it was weekly and there were Manhunters in it.

My favorite comic book characters when I was a kid were Blue Falcon and Dynomutt. I bet Jack Ryder was Sean Hannity's favorite. Tucker Carlson's favorite was probably Hitler.

This issue begins the long running joke that Martian Manhunter is addicted to Oreos. I fucking get it, man. Have you ever tried to melt an Oreo into a spoon, fill a needle with the liquid contents, and inject it straight into your bloodstream? Me neither because that's stupid, you dumb idiot. Why would you even suggest it? You need to inject them straight into your taste buds. J'onn, Mister Miracle, and Captain Atom are setting up the New York Embassy which leads to lots of jokes about shoddy construction and terrible wiring and lazy movers. At one point Captain Atom electrocutes himself and then destroys all of the wiring because he's the guy the United States wanted to represent them on the new international team. I'd say his penchant to escalate a situation straight to violence proves the United States made the right decision. Batman and Guy Gardner oversee the outfitting of the Russian Embassy with a little help from Rocket Manhunter #7.

Even Rocket Red has heard about Guy's serious brain trauma and yet nobody has even discussed getting him a medical check-up. What a bunch of bastards!

This is also the issue that begins the "Bwa-ha-ha-ha" gag (I think. Did it happen in an issue previously? Maybe?! Anyway, it really gets going here). That's the gag where somebody laughs when something terrible happens to somebody else. It's a great team building exercise, to laugh at a co-worker's pain! Or if it isn't, it, at the very least, helps develop personal morale. Nothing better than laughing at your manager after her credit card was stolen by a prospective new employee while the entire company was in a meeting, especially after learning that said card was pretty much just used at The Honey Baked Ham. Does that make if funnier? Or is this one of those dark humor things like when the same manager was super pissed at an employee I was training for not showing up for work the day before Thanksgiving only to learn later that she had died of carbon monoxide poisoning the previous night which caused her to erupt into crying jags for the rest of the day which I'm positive weren't for my poor co-worker but for her guilty feelings of being so angry at her. That's dark humor, right? The "Bwa-ha-ha-ha" gag begins when Booster tries to hit on a Parisian woman and gets shot down. Later, she winds up being the League's Paris Bureau Chief. And also maybe Crimson Fox?

This scene is well done in a book that often tries too hard for stupidly silly humor.

I'd say that these three pages (the scanned page being the third of the three) of interaction between Blue Beetle and Booster Gold is ground zero for what would become a great best friend relationship. Any interaction before this was just of the generic Blue Beetle making a stupid class clown comment to the group. But this foundational scene in Paris already feels like these two at their closest which, admittedly, is mostly Blue Beetle laughing at something dumb Booster Gold did. But I like to view this entire relationship through the lens of a Booster Gold mostly driven mad and insane from having to live through so many alternate timelines. Sure, the reader doesn't know about that aspect of Booster Gold yet (and won't for more than a decade). But I can't help but understand Booster Gold through that lens now. And his need for some kind of consistency and whimsy and, almost certainly, a need to be able to laugh at himself must be expressed through this relationship as a kind of therapy. In a universe where not even the timeline lacks consistency, Booster Gold finds solace in getting his balls busted by Blue Beetle.

Maybe I'm a dick who doesn't understand true friendship but this is totally what it looks like, right?

The issue ends with a Keith Giffen drawn story about the end of the Global Guardians, or at least the end of their United Nations backing. I'm sure it's a set-up for a future story but even if it were just a couple page story acknowledging the Global Guardians and how they're affected by a new United Nations backed team, it would remain an interesting moment. I don't need iron clad continuity in my comic book universe but I am entertained when writers acknowledge the waves their stories are making in that continuity. Plus it's drawn by Giffen which always makes it seem like I'm reading a story from the perspective of a madman. Justice League International #8 Rating: B+. How come when I publish a manifesto, people refer to it as a 'zine?! How do you get the fucking power to have your photo-copied screed with "art" considered a manifesto?! How many people do I have to rant at to get some Goddamned recognition?! "The Truth About Star Trek Transporters" is not a fucking fanzine, people! It's a manifesto of the alternate reality we're being asked to accept! The alternate reality of an alternate reality where people are being sent to their deaths every fucking mission only to be replaced by clones of themselves and nobody fucking cares! Probably because they're all clones of clones of clones and their ability to think rationally has diminished to the point of dogmatic stupidity! Am I the only one witnessing this while others simply think its some kind of retrograde perspective?! Does my antediluvian intellect subquester the means of proliferating the parallax of reality?! Does the inclusion of three hilarious dick jokes deny me the mantle of manifesto writer, oublietting my ego into an infinite mirror trick of endless zineian declarations?! Fuck this shit! And fuck that satellite that's been following me throughout this meandering conclusion!

[thanksjro]

Telefunken, A Prequel to Eugenesis: The Future Is Obsessed With Making Babies

OR

All These Materials, And I Still Had To Keep The Wiki Open The Whole Time

This short story was included with the secondary publication of Eugenesis, which happened in 2007, six years after the first run. Yep. He had multiple publication runs. Back when you had to actually go and talk to people about what you wanted published instead of doing everything online. For a novel-length fan fiction about murdering space robots and then having them give birth to tentacle monsters.

I wish I had the friggin’ brass balls Roberts does.

Telefunken as a term doesn’t mean anything in any language, but that doesn’t mean we can’t gain any sort of understanding using context clues.

Tele- as a part of Greek, means “from a distance.” So whatever’s happening is far off. In the future, perhaps? The pre-story quotes certainly seem to imply such a thing.

A couple hundred years into the future, actually. With a list like that, one has to wonder just who the hell can get into Maccadam’s these days.

Funken itself actually is a word- it’s German for spark. So “from a distance” + “spark”. Alright, let’s see where this goes.

Is… is this someone trying to convince someone else to read Eugenesis? Is Roberts making the space robots read this batshit story? Is he threatening them? Because making someone read an entire book’s worth of slaughter of their race sort of feels like a threat.

Okay, moving on to actual story, our narrator starts the day by blinding himself. He turns the input on his optics all the way up and stares at the sun.

I don’t know why.

Once he’s done that, he reflects on the nature of change, and how some things just can’t be fixed.

I see we’ve hit our fascist phase. Because they’re only allowed to enjoy the rejuvenation of the planet if they’re wearing Prowl’s face on their chest, right?

Our narrator seems to have an alternate take on the walls, though- seems more like they’re trying to keep the citizens in as opposed to the ruffians out.

Scene jump, and we’re in the middle of a conversation between two folks about some guy who killed an Autobot and fled. Yeah, no one with dialogue has been properly identified as of yet. All I know currently is that one of the conversationalists is a commander. Something tells me Nightbeat’s involved with the scene.

But that’s just a hunch.

So, looks like the Transformers had a little more room for the war buffet after all, because they’ve had at least two named squabbles in the last couple centuries. Hence, our narrator is off to try and corroborate a rumor that Galvatron is still kicking around.

He heads through the religious sector to get downtown, lamenting that Iacon’s been reduced to a military city-state in order to keep some façade of peace going on. He didn’t go through the hell that was the Eugenesis Wars for this.

Ooh, a dash of fantastic racism to really bring out the acidic taste of Orson Welles 1984. Maybe this is Prowl, actually, which would explain why he hasn’t been explicitly named. Would kind of ruin the whole end of the novel, wouldn’t it?

I’m not saying it’s Prowl because of the racism. More the clean dividing of folks into categories and statistical data.

Our narrator walks through the throng, ignores a homeless veteran, and passes by a crowd of Creationists on pilgrimage, and with that he’s off to Autobot City 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Meanwhile, back with the guys reading this account- yes, turns out they’re outside of this particular story- more details are being revealed.

The Turning, you say.

Vampire robots it is, then.

Back with the narrator, he’s just found what he’d been looking for- an Autobot badge, close enough to the real thing to work for his purposes. He heads inside something called an “ingestion tank”- I’m imagining the fucking eating chairs from IDW2- and oh-so-sneakily adds a few screw-looking bombs to the badge.

Hmm. I’m thinking my guesses are just a bit off-base.

Back at the narrative, our narrator has just arrived at the Ministry, where Sideswipe and his boys are truly living up to the ACAB lifestyle- Sideswipe is literally unloading clips into a crowd of protestors. Apparently this isn’t anything new.

Oh-kay. So. Back in the epilogue for Eugenesis, Wheeljack made an offhand comment about Rodimus wanting to look into streamlining the biomorphic reproductive process, using the power of science. This was something Ratchet really wasn’t thrilled about- he’s the Transformer-equivalent to being child-free, I guess- and let me tell you something: if Ratchet thinks something is a bad idea, it almost absolutely is. But it looks like Rodimus got his way, if our narrator’s cryptic statements are to be believed.

Let’s get fucking weird for a second.

Millions of years ago the biomorphic process was decided to be too slow for the colonial ways of the Cybertronian Empire, so morphing centers were created, where protoforms were basically injected with false memories to kickstart their lives. Think MTO programming from IDW, but more mechpreggy. This practice died out when the shortage of energon caught up with everyone, and was left behind for the most part.

EXCEPT FOR THIS. Turns out that Kup actually wasn’t all that old, he just thought he was. Why did they do this? Assumedly for the preservation of their research. Does it factor into anything ever for Kup? Nah, not really. Also:

🄹🄰🄼🄴🅂 🅆🄷🄰🅃 🅃🄷🄴 🄵🅄🄲🄺

Telefunken really is what makes the director’s cut of Eugenesis. This is where all the really weird shit is. If you ever fucking read this nightmare of a book, you better make sure Telefunken is included, because you will be reeling.

Anyway, the planet can’t handle more than a few hundred thousand robots, energon-wise, so the Treaty of Antimorphism was signed- a sort of “no more mechpreg” agreement between the Autobots and Decepticons. Not sure how they’re going to stop someone’s torso from vomiting up a goo baby, seeing as the process appears to be completely random, but they probably know more about the process than I do.

Yeah, that treaty is broken almost immediately. I mean, come on, we know who’s writing this story, it’s amazing that the idea was even remotely considered.

The Autobots decided that they were going to start underground biomorph rings, where Lifers- y’know, the guys who can actually do this sort of thing- spit out protoforms on command to supplement the Autobot forces, in case more war broke out.

They can give birth on command.

I-

I just-

How-

Okay. Sure.

BUT HOW-

Of course, a lot of people had a problem with this, seeing as they already had a solution to the problem of a limited population, in the copies of everyone’s brains Rodimus had commissioned after the events of Eugenesis. Yeah, that’s the root of the problem right there: it was unnecessary. Certainly not the violations of the free will and rights of the poor bastards who got chained to a table and told to start pumping out new robots at what was probably gunpoint in the basement of some bombed out building. Nope! Just that the whole thing was superfluous.

That was about the time that the Anticopyist protests started- how convenient- and the mind crystals were buried, never to see the light of day. Of course, Star Saber might have had a hand in quietly recovering the crystals, but that’s just hearsay.

It’s all going down the tubes, really- High Commands gearing up for the inevitable civil war that’s about to break out amid all this bullshit. Prowl and Nightbeat are trying to put a stop to things, but what are two guys with crippling depression going to do against all this crap? Not much. Especially now that there are Neogens discovering that they aren’t who they think they are.

The slogan is “maximum speed, maximum efficiency.” I’ll let you take a wild guess as to what these weirdos call themselves.

Sideswipe and his goons get done with killing civilians, and our narrator can finally get on with their mission- an interview with Rodimus Prime, who is dying. Again. We just can’t keep our Primes alive, can we? Can’t keep ‘em dead either, but that’s not the point.

But I thought Cyclonus was key.

…I’m sorry, that was dumb.

Anyway, our narrator gets through security, bombs undetected, and prepares to finish his thesis.

These outside conversationalists are kind of morbid, aren’t they? Still, we wouldn’t have the narrative if they weren’t, so thanks? I guess? For being weird voyeurs of terrorist activities?

The narrator makes his way to the basement, where they’ve got Rodimus stashed.

But how are his tiddies? Are they ridiculously huge? Does he breast boobily down the hall towards you? Too bad First Aid’s dead, he’d be all over this behemoth.

You know, last time we saw Springer, his sole purpose in life was getting high. Wonder how he got to this point in just a couple hundred years. That’s nothing to these guys. Guess he traded in the space-heroin for juicing.

Springer, because I guess he’s kind of an asshole in this story, threatens our narrator, saying that he’s got a joor- pretty much an hour- to talk to Rodimus, and one second beyond that he’s throwing his ass out the door. He makes this point very emphatically, and repeatedly. Springer needs to take a chill pill.

With that, our narrator double-checks that his rigged badge is still there- how many times are we going to blow up Rodimus Prime?- and enters the medvault.

Rodimus isn’t doing so hot.

Despite the obvious lag in his brain, Rodimus is happy to be of service to a young student, and invites the narrator to sit and stay awhile.

Now that’s just cruel, Roberts. You gotta give Rodimus something, you already killed his best friend and most of his comrades. No wonder he’s depressed in every continuity, all the writers are mean as hell to our boy Rodders.

Our narrator starts off by asking about Scorponok, and Rodimus takes so long to answer he wonders if the guy just went ahead and died. But Rodimus, ever a good sport, does eventually answer. He talks about all the major Decepticon players, and our narrator smiles and listens, waiting for the point where Unicron is mentioned. He really wants to hear about Unicron, and can practically taste his presence in the room, seeing as Rodimus is still possessed.

You see, our dear narrator is a space-satanist.

Unfortunately, when Rodimus finally utters the name of the robot-devil, nothing happens.

No, see, if the Transformers had Plan B, none of this mechpreg stuff would be fucking happening.

This is where our outside conversationalists come more into play, revealing themselves to be Star Saber- finally entering the story proper- and Great Shot, who I can’t seem to find anything on. We get treated to the security footage from this point on, getting a lovely scene of our narrator yelling at a dying old man, as the two discuss the Turning. It’s a major point of concern for a lot of the troops, and we’re shown why, as Rodimus starts having a Reagan-from-the-Exorcist-level fit about the same time as our narrator drops his bomb. The room explodes, and our narrator escapes out into the world.

From here on, all of the narrative comes from out narrator’s internal recording. He keeps running, beyond the walls of the city and into the Rad Zone, until he hits Eocra. Eocra is where that chunk of space rock from Liars A-to-D was housed. I guess we’ll find out if it’s still there.

He requests an audience with Servion from a member of the Brotherhood of Chaos whom he doesn’t recognize, and is ushered inside.

Into an underground room with a window showing the stars and just packed with Decepticons. Even Blitzwing’s there- I’d figured he’d been one of the POWs who kicked the bucket, but apparently not. Turns out that door he went through was a teleport. They want our narrator’s thesis. He hands it over immediately.

Go for it, guys, his resume from today alone is beyond impressive. He’s done more in the last six hours than most of your top guys have done in their entire careers.

The Decepticons say that they’ll be in touch, and with that they shove him out of the room. Well, that’s that. Guess it’s time to go and see if the rumors about the losers in Kalis are a bunch of bunk after all.

And that’s the end of his datalog.

Back with the ‘Cons, the boys are gossiping about their new hire. Turns out he’s one of theirs anyway- a Neogen, and his name is Tarantulus.

I checked, it’s a valid alternate spelling of his name.

Over with Galvatron- did you honestly think he was dead?- the edgy bastard’s preparing for the Final Purge. Turns out he’s still under Unicron’s thumb, even after all this time. He’s pleased to hear that Rodimus is dying, and recalls being able to corrupt the Lifecode when he needled the Prime during other desperate moments. He decides he’s going to do that again.

Back with Start Saber and Great Shot, the boys are cooking up some tasty treats in their politically-powered lie kitchen. As far as the public knows, Tarantulus was shot to death by the guards when he approached the wall. Prime’s Turned, which sucks for him, but might work out in Star Saber’s favor. Just too bad that that one guard got in between Rodimus and the bomb blast.

So I guess Star Saber being less than piously heroic is just a Roberts thing. Alrighty then.

That’s the end of Telefunken. This answers as many questions as it presents, leaving us at a net-neutral for understanding just what the fuck is going on. Awesome.

[pumpkin-spice-whump-latte]

Whumptober #7: Isolation

Hey guess who can’t write something without it turning into a goddamn novel? IT’S ME! I got a little carried away with this one, but it’s a concept that I’m actually super interested in.

contents: Sensory deprivation, hallucinations, unreality mention, drugging

_________________________________

“Test number 13: Keller injection administered. Subject–”

“What the FUCK did you just stick me with you sick BASTARD?”

Dr. Tillman paused during the outburst, looking down at the man strapped to the table indifferently, then continued.

“…Subject restrained. Begin phase two.”

Ben could feel a cold finger of fear start tapping it’s way up his spine as soon as he’d felt the needle pierce his skin, and it was only made worse by the fact that he wasn’t even being told what was in it. He had no idea what drug had just been forced into his system and wouldn’t know until something started hurting or growing or peeling off… Oh god. It was the vast unknown of it all that was the worst thing.

“At least… Goddammit, at least tell me what this is supposed to be testing for, huh Doc?” There was a tiny bit of pleading his voice that he hadn’t meant to let slip, and it made his cheeks burn in shame. Might as well have said “pretty please, oh Mr. Mad Scientist sir, with ice cream on top?”

The man above him simply checked to see the straps around Ben’s wrists and ankles were tight enough, scribbled something down on his clipboard, then turned to leave the room.

“Hey!” Ben yelled after him. “I’m asking you a question! Hey!” It did no good. The scientist didn’t even pause a step to look back before the door slammed shut behind him. Ben would have kept on screaming out demands and threats, turning all of his fear into anger, if his vision hadn’t started to suddenly fade away.

The room started going dark gray and fuzzy at the edges, and he quieted down a little in nervous confusion. Was he passing out? No… No he was still awake. It was the room that was going away. It was his eyes that were rapidly failing him.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” He whispered this to himself, since he’d long since given up on the possibility of anything else out there hearing him, but then that too started to fade. His mouth opened and closed and he could feel breath being pushed out over his tongue and teeth, but he could hear nothing.

At that point his vision had blacked out completely as well.

He was strapped to a goddamn table, alone, and unable to hear or see anything around him. He knew it was useless but screamed anyway, forcing out a great rush of air in the way his body remembered, compressing his chest and opening his mouth wide as he could. There was no one around to hear it.

-----

“Bennnnn..” It started softly. His name called from somewhere far off, in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar. “BEN!” There it was again, only this time sharp like the crack of a whip. He tried to call out an answer but, when he couldn’t hear his own voice, he knew it had to have been auditory hallucinations. That happened a lot with sensory deprivation. The brain had gotten used to hearing or seeing so when it was suddenly taken away, the brain compensated by flinging out random images and sounds. Memories.

Ghosts.

Even so, Ben figured he could handle this. The scientist’s experiment had become clear; total isolation and it’s effects on everyone’s favorite kidnap victim.

Great.

He tried taking a few deep breaths, focusing on the sensation of air moving in and out of his lungs. Feeling the way his chest expanded and contracted to remind himself of his connection to the waking world. It was okay. Whatever this was would be temporary. The drug in his system would wear off.

…Wouldn’t it?

____

After only six hours Ben wasn’t so sure it would. Of course he had no way to tell it had been six hours; his entire world consisted of darkness and nothingness and trying to count the seconds had gotten tedious after ten minutes.

But now he had a lot more to deal with than just boredom. Like the fact that he was still hearing things, and could no longer tell if they were real.

“Of course I’m real, man.” Carlos’ voice. The other captive he’d met not too long ago. The one who’d been a doctor too and had gentle hands. Ben was hearing his voice like he was sitting right next to him.

“Ben. Ben. Ben. Ben.” The voice kept repeating his name over and over until he pushed out more air in another frustrated shout.

Then came the sensation of fingers on his arm. He twitched and tried to flinch away, but he was still strapped down to the table. He couldn’t move an inch and

something was touching his arm.

He tried calling out Carlos’ name, tried demanding he do something to let him know this wasn’t a hallucination.

“Tap my arm three times if you’re real.”

The ghostly fingers only moved down to tap at his leg instead. What did that mean? Real, but not real? Here, yet not here?

Was he going insane????

------

After fifteen hours he began to forget things. Strange, random things like what pizza tasted like. Big, important things like what an hour of time even felt like, let alone meant. He had started to feel vaguely detached from the idea of having a body and being alive at all, and now it had grown into a full blown existential crisis. What if…

What if he had actually died?

What if this was Hell? This was his punishment for snitching on his boss back when he was a free, unhurt man. Jerry had never gotten over it but you weren’t supposed to be stealing opioids and managing a hospital at the same time.

Maybe this was limbo. Maybe he’d stay like this for the rest of eternity, unable to move or see or hear anything….

Except he could hear things, couldn’t he? Sometimes it was a woman’s voice humming directly next to his ear. Sometimes it was his father, saying some garbled nonsense he couldn’t understand. But most of the time it was Carlos.

His brain had apparently latched onto to the man out of a sense of desperate camaraderie. The only other person he’d seen in ages that was alive and didn’t cause him pain and terror. Carlos was beside him a lot during that time, and it was getting harder and harder to convince himself it was just a hallucination.

“Tell… Tell me a story. Tell me how the scientist found you.” It was getting harder to tell if his voice was making it out of his throat. Or if it mattered.

The shadow of Carlos didn’t answer, but Ben was able to feel the soft pressure of someone laying their head on his shoulder. Tears slipped out hot and rolling from the sides of his eyes, and he sobbed out noises he couldn't hear or even properly regulate.

“Tell me how we’re gonna…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. There was no point in it anyway. Tell me how we’re going to get out of here? Ha. Funny.

A great feeling of heavy sadness washed over him then, cresting so far above his head that it felt monstrous, and his brain decided that was enough. The hallucinations, the tortuous uncertainty, the maddening need to scratch his nose and not being able to, he could deal with all that.

But the feeling of utter loneliness–the sense that he really was the only person in this universe, and Carlos and Dr. Tillman and his boyfriend back home that he didn’t let himself think about, they had all actually been hallucinations–that’s what ended up breaking him.

It was at hour thirty that the drug finally started to wear off and allow his senses to function properly again, but by that point he no longer cared. By that point he responded to anything Dr. Tillman said or did with mindless screaming, prompting the scientist to drag him unwillingly back into a holding cell and toss him onto the ground.

Ben was ninety-nine percent sure he was still hallucinating (or hadn’t been, maybe this was a dream, maybe he was asleep) but couldn’t help himself as the scientist was walking away again. Whether this was real or not his entire body screamed in unison for the company of another living soul. For the reminder that he was a person and shared this earth with other people.

“Wait! Please! Don’t!” He might have been able to see again (if his eyes could even be believed) and he might have been able to hear again (if his ears could be trusted either), but it meant nothing in that moment if he was to be left alone again. As much as he hated that damn scientist’s face, it was the only one he’d fully seen in thirty hours.

He broke down into helpless sobbing as the door was slammed in his face.

“Please… Please don’t, I can’t deal with this I can’t…” That wave of sadness stole over him again as he pushed his face into the cold metal floor. Looking around to see if Carlos or his father or his old boss Jerry had stuck around now that he’d regained his senses…

But it seemed like they hadn’t.

Now more than ever, Ben felt completely alone.

[chloca-cola]

Bear Witness Chap 5

Here we are, the turn of the story...

TW: Angst, lots of it, fear

Word count: 1,878

~~~~~~~~

 "Hunnigan? Why are you calling me?" Chris' voice was confused to say the least, having just got home from his last mission, he was slumped in the armchair in his living room, freshly showered.

        "Alan has gotten (y/n), Chris. I called Leon to tell him the information you have collected and they got her when his back was turned. He's still at their condo-" Chris was already standing up to gather the things he would need. "Chris, please listen...Leon has feelings for her." Hunnigan explained and Chris stopped what he was doing, eyebrows knitted.

        "You sure about that?" Hunnigan sighed, her eyes averted from his momentarily. 

        "Nearly positive." Chris nodded to himself. "I'll send you the address to where Leon is."

        "You mean if he hasn't already went after her himself?" He mumbled while disconnecting their call, going back to gathering his guns and ammo he needed, before hurrying to his room to put on his gear.

~~~~~~

       "Leon! You better still be here." Chris warned as he banged on the door loudly with a closed fist. He growled, stepping back, fully ready to kick the door in, when the latch clicked and the door opened to reveal Leon; his face was stern, a mix of sadness, fear and anger, and in his hand, clutched to his chest was a jacket. Chris gave him a once over, Hunnigan may just be right in her assumptions of how close Leon has gotten to (y/n), considering he isn't supposed to.

      "It's about time you showed up! She's running out of time!" Leon snarled, already fully prepared to leave, shoving passed Chris to make his way to the elevator. "If she's still got the monitor on, we can track her with my GPS." He rambled, trying to keep his mind as occupied as he could so he wouldn't begin imagining what Alan was doing to you. 

       Chris stood beside Leon in the elevator, periodically looking at him, watching how his hands kept wringing on your jacket over and over, bringing it up to his face absently, all whole having determination written all over his face and the thought of Leon loving you passed through his mind. If Leon was in fact in love with you, it could be good for him. Finally having someone to be there for him and help him through what he goes through. If that is the case, Chris is now also fully determined to find you and get you back safely. He squared his shoulders, getting himself ready for whatever they were going to find.

       Chris made a few calls to the BSAA to have backup meet them at the address where the steady blinking light says you are. Feeling that Alan has a crew waiting, they needed all the back up they could get. The virus he was trying to perfect, may just in fact be perfected now. The samples they had before, something seemed missing, and who knows if he found what he was looking for while he was MIA.

       "Leon, look at me." Chris finally commanded, and when Leon growled but finally looked at him he continued. "You need to stay calm, ok? We need to be as focused as we can."

        "You think I don't know that?" Leon growled aggressively, deep down, Leon felt extremely guilty of what happened. Of all the times you'd escaped him, you came back to him, unharmed, and the one time he took you outside for fun is when you got kidnapped. He had been there and couldn't stop what had happened. "This is my fault."

        "What? No, it's not, Leon. It's bastards like Reicherman, trying to take out humanity." Leon slammed his fist on the dashboard of Chris' SUV.

         "I should have never taken her outside! I should have kept her inside where it was safe. I should have never turned my back...I just wanted to help her feel normal again." Chris fell silent beside Leon, processing everything. They had to get you back unharmed.

~~~~

      "Nice to see you again, my dear." Alan said in mock happiness, a big sarcastic smile was on his face, the unveiled insanity bright in his beady eyes as he stood over you on the table where you were strapped down and wrestling to get free in vain. You grunted, yanking and jerking to the point of pain in your joints.

       "Fuck you, old man." You spat out in defiance, still jerking against your restraints. He laughed, shaking his head, placing his boney gloved hand on his forehead at your failed attempts to get to him. He knew you wanted to snap his neck, he could see all the rage burning through you, and he looked back down at you with fake sympathy.

       "Please, keep that fire burning, it will cause the virus to spread through you faster." You freeze, the words sinking in and fear chills you to your bones, shaking your head, the rage leaving to be replaced by abject terror. This man has poked and prodded you with needles too many times, getting your blood to help with whatever virus he was creating. Seeing how your blood reacted to different aspects of it. Figuring out what to tweak or add to his diabolical concoction.

      "Please no...don't inject me anymore, I can't take it." He laughed again at your begging, walking away from you to pick up a syringe, his assistant eyeing him warily, before looking at another unassuming syringe close by.

       "Don't you want to be Patient Zero of the Reaper Virus? Imagine how famous you'll become. It is a mixture of 9 viruses, 14 bacteria and 5 parasites, the main one called the jewel wasp, and it's all thanks to your blood." He paused, looking down at you, before leaning down to you slightly. "Do you know about the jewel wasp, (y/n)?" You didn't give him the pleasure of an answer, instead you just stared at the ceiling. "They inject a chemical in cockroaches brains that cause them to become submissive and zombie like. By itself, it causes no real harm to humans, after all, the wasps aren't concerned with us. But mix it with things like say, rabies, measles, Ebola...it becomes a problem." He held up his hand with the syringe, turning it this way and that, full of pride in his work. "Behold the Reaper Virus." He presented with a wave of his free hand towards the virus. "Everyone in America already has this lying dominant inside them. Thanks to all the people I have secretly working for me in water purifying plants. All it needs is the trigger. You, (y/n). Once you start showing the symptoms, it will be too late for everyone. It will spread like wildfire. Sure, like with all infectious diseases, some maybe immune. But, the bites of others will cause the infection to take hold anyway."

         Tears welled in your eyes, flowing like a steady stream from the corners. You were praying that Leon was going to come bursting through the door at any moment to save you.

        "You're going to die." You promised, false bravado in your tone, your entire body trembling with fear and anxiety. "Leon will come here and kill you." Alan raised an eyebrow at your words, humor tugging at the corners of his lips and after he didn't respond to you, your turned your face to him, confused.

        "Foolish girl. I left that tracker on you on purpose. I want him to show up. I want him to see what you've become." Your forehead knitted in confusion, why would he want Leon to show up when he knows it will get Alan killed? "You really don't think I'm just making another slow, easy-to-kill virus, do you?" He then reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a small vile of a blood red powdery substance. "This, my dear (y/n), is an incomplete version of the vaccine. Once you change, if you come into contact with this, you'll regain some of your motor functions. You'll remember how to use weapons, how to avoid being struck, even how to navigate subterfuge. All while still being one of the undead." Your eyes widened in shock over this news.

       "They'll be emotionless killers." You mumbled. "Unable to feel pain, or grief, just wanting to kill." Alan grinned, big and insane and he nodded happily that you get it, pointing at you to emphasize his next statement.

       "And without the inhibitions of understanding strength and when to hold back! You'll be able to kill with one punch to the proper place!" You squeezed your eyes closed, this bastard had to be stopped.

~~~~~~

        Chris and Leon burst through the front doors of the laboratory that you were being held at, guns trained and ready, only to find the place completely vacant. They both relaxed slightly, as the other members of the BSAA followed in behind them, doing a more thorough sweep of the lobby and doors leading elsewhere.

        "Something isn't right. This seems too easy." Leon stated, absently, digging out his phone and pulling up the GPS again, ticking his chin towards the stairwell to his right, not letting the fact that this is an obvious trap deter him, not wanting to waste another moment of worrying about it. He just wanted to find you.

        "Break up into teams. I want to make sure this place is absent of any kind of surprises. You four, come with us!" They all nodded, breaking away in different directions, Chris and his team following closely behind Leon as he bounded down the stairs two at a time.

         "This place is a God damned maze." Leon grumbled under his breath as he exited the stairwell into the white pristine hallway that broke away in several places. His heart was racing from both adrenaline and fear as he looked at his phone, and turning his head at every junction, his gun in his other hand. He had reluctantly left your coat back in Chris' vehicle and he absolutely despised that. He wanted it here, one part of you he still had, with him. "She's down this hallway!" He shouted, taking off like a flash.

~~~~

         Loud banging sounded down the hallway of the floor where you were being held, and a sadistic smile spread across Alan's rat like face.

        "Ahh, seems your calvary has arrived!" He exclaimed, clapping his hands, letting his full insanity show. The noises were growing louder, coming closer to you, as Alan made his way to you with the syringe. Fear gripped your heart like a vice as you continued your vain attempts to get free. "Are you ready to put on your show my dear? Your audience is almost here."

       "Cover the hallways! We are going in!" You heard a familiar voice calling, what was his name? Chris? The man who saved you from Alan the first time. 

       It all seemed to slow down, time, noise, existence as the needle descended to you and into the vein at your elbow. The doors burst open just in time for Leon to see you getting injected with the virus. The last thing you heard before being dragged into darkness was Leon's enraged scream.

~~~~~~~~

@imagineleonkennedy @mitsuintheworks @kezikatescribbling @disneymarina @nthevalkyrie @locus-desperatus

[megagingertron]

My @furubasecretsanta gift for @dutiifully!!

Title: Put a Little Love on Me

Pairings: Mayu x Shigure, One sided Mayu x Hatori, hinted Mayu x Hatori

Words: 5.5k

A/N: Timeline? What’s a timeline? This is somewhat canon compliant, but strays in some places. Basically a character study of Mayu and filling in the blanks the manga didn’t cover. Had to dig deep down to write about characters I don’t think about often and it was a great challenge that I really enjoyed!

I really hope you like it! :D

Title from Niall Horan’s Put a Little Love on Me

Mayu decides from the very beginning that she’s not going to put too much stock into someone like Shigure. She decides this as her eyes meet his and he cocks his head to the side, a slight bend to his waist as he bows. There’s a slant to his smile and a turn to his chin that displays a small portion of the underside. She grabs onto her will to not visibly sneer at the insincerity in his posture and snarky expression, one side of his hips higher with his hand placed on it. Kana had given Mayu what she can now see was a sugar coated, pillowed warning of Shigure’s nature, one that raised an eyebrow but didn’t think it was anything that would get the best of her.

It doesn’t take long for him to challenge that. She catches on quick enough to Shigure and how he speaks to others. He likes to stick in subtle pokes at people—a comment about their opinion or about their personality right in front of their face, but to some disguised enough to be overlooked. She calls him out on it, one of the few who doesn’t let Shigure get away with saying whatever he pleases, Hatori surprisingly complicit with his comments, and their other friend Ayame too much of a lover of chaos to stop it.

Even then, sometimes she is bitterly reminded of his lack of boundaries.

“Ah, Mayu-chan.” They sit outside of Kana’s house. It’s late in the evening, the slow stagnant heat of the day bleeding into a comfortable cool. They each have a lit cigarette in their mouth, the soft orange of the embers rising and falling with each inhale. “How do you feel about love?”

Mayu raises an eyebrow, the question fitting oddly between them.

“Love? Like between partners and family? Friends?” She asks.

“Sure,” Shigure says. “Anyway you want to view it.”

Mayu blinks down at the cigarette in her hands. As she’s beginning to find out, love is complicated in all its facets. Her mother’s dogmatic whining about needing to find a husband was out of love, for love, but her nerves could only take so much and the question loomed over her head. It was all too persistent when her mother asked for her help at the bookstore, which was often during the summer months. She endured it, though, believing helping her mother was more important than her comfort on the matter. Meeting Kana gave her another sense of love, feeling protective and affection for someone who she wanted the best for. She found a friend who she melded with on the same level. They had the same drive and looked for the fun and absurd where they could. She always figured one day they would meet a man, but it was never going to be a problem. Not like this anyway…

“Regardless, I think it can be powerful. It makes you the happiest you’ve ever been, like a high that doesn’t fade. But it can also make you the most miserable you’ve ever been, or the most jealous, the most mad. All of that stems from love, even it’s hurtful.”

“Astute observation, Mayu-chan.” Shigure looks pleased with himself for some reason. “I completely agree with you. Love does make you do foolish things for its sake. How about for yourself?”

“What about myself?” Mayu’s finger flicks at the burning cigarette in repeated motions. Talking about foolish feelings of love stirs a suppressed, more recent emotion that conflicted within her, thoughts acerbic as they rallied back and forth. The want to be selfish and the resulting guilt didn’t settle well and only served to polarize her already disquiet thoughts. Stuffing that feeling into nothingness had become habit, but she can’t say it’s benefited the level of love she has for herself. Not when looking at Kana and Hatori felt like a searing knife in her chest, her fantasies her only reprieve.

Shigure never responds, letting her sort through her thoughts, seemingly unaware of her inner turmoil. She snubs out her cigarette in the ashtray placed between them. Shigure’s continues to hang off his lip, arms crossed comfortably as the silence stretched on. He breaks it.

“You should love yourself.” He injects. “What’s the point of any of this,” he gestures with arms, “if we can’t love ourselves. What a sad life.”

“That can’t be helped. Not everyone’s dealt the same cards.” Mayu says. She wishes she’d brought out her whole pack of cigarettes. “How someone views themselves is objective. Whether it’s based on life experience or you just think of yourself that way. It’s not always easy to pinpoint and sometimes you need someone else pointing things out for you.”

“So do you love yourself?”

“Yes, I do.”

She responds quickly enough even she believes her answer for a second. Shigure just ends up humming in response. “How is such a thoughtful woman such as yourself unable to find a man? Surely men ask you out.”

It’s not what she expects. The scoff Mayu releases resembles more of hack, turning to Shigure in incredulity.

“Mm what? I’m just saying. You have the brains, looks. Your frame is slight, but that can be overlooked.”

A rapid burst of heat rises to Mayu’s face, mortified and livid at the same time. “Yeah, because you have such a great personality yourself.” With a huff she stands from her sitting position on the engawa and steps towards the closed shoji.

“I never said I wanted a great personality,” Shigure says. It takes all of Mayu’s will power not to open and slam the shoji shut with all her might. Kana’s house doesn’t deserve her ire. Shigure certainly does, but his tactless comment had taken any words from her mouth without regret, leaving her running away from him. What a bastard. Talking and having an actual conversation had put Shigure in a more thoughtful light, one she wondered if he just hid away until he felt like revealing it, then promptly shattered the illusion by making some wayward dig at her body and single status. His rottenness could peel paint.

She walks into the kitchen where Kana and Hatori are bent over a cookbook, both with their sleeves rolled up and wearing aprons. It’s a cute sight to see them corresponding over how to make dinner, but there’s always a twinge of longing that comes with it.

Hatori sees her first, nodding his head in greeting. “Shigure still out there?”

Mayu tries not rolling her eyes, having for a single second forgotten about that guy and his unhinged mouth. “Oh, yeah.”

“Oh. Did he say something?” Hatori asks. Kana’s attention is on her now too, smiling and curious at the same time. Both of their eyes are on her, willing her to admit what they already know based on her response and the look on her face. But for a brief moment she forgets about Kana and focuses on Hatori and his attention on her. He never looks at her fully when Kana’s in the room, too blinded by his love for her. His attention leaves her warm and wanting, desperate for those veiled covered eyes see her as more than an accessory to Kana. She realizes she’s just staring and forces out a laugh.

“He just thinks he’s a funny guy. I don’t agree.”

Hatori momentarily looks regretful. “I apologize about him. He doesn’t know when to stop.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t control everything about him. He’s manageable.”

“I hope so. He won’t get away with upsetting you, not with me.” Kana says with the wave of a wooden spatula.

Mayu smiles. “Ah thanks. I know I can count on you.”

Ayame soon shows up, late to the time they set for everyone to arrive. Shigure comes through the kitchen walking and greeting everyone as if he hadn’t just embarrassed Mayu. Shigure and Kana follow Ayame to the main room, leaving Hatori and Mayu to themselves.

“Honestly, did he say anything to truly upset you?”

Mayu takes him in, wearing slacks and a button up with that stupid apron. It’s probably the most relaxed she’s seen him in the few months she’s gotten to know and understand him. His genuine concern is almost surprising to her, as if she already made up her mind what his reserved and quiet nature meant about him. Everything about him felt like a breath of fresh air, a calm that settled over her before she even knew what it meant. But now it’s become clearer to her in the last ten minutes just how deep she really is, and ignoring it doesn’t make her feel any better about herself.

She crosses her arms and sighs. “He just needs to be put in his place. As if I’d let someone like that think they have a one up on me.”

Hatori responds with an amused “ah”.

“I have to ask though.” She lowers her voice. “Why are friends with him? You know how he acts, you don’t seem to like it, yet you do everything with those two. Is there something you see that I don’t?” It’s harsh, she knows this and sees it in the dual raise of Hatori’s eyebrows. He contemplates the questions for a short moment before responding. He too crosses his arms then leans against the counter.

“I guess you could say circumstances, with our families being so close. And despite how he is with other people he doesn’t treat Ayame and myself the same way. I could try and keep him more in line but that doesn’t matter much to him.”

“Hm.” Mayu agrees. The conversation is over when Kana steps into the kitchen, apologizing for walking away when she’s supposed to be helping with dinner. The rest of the evening goes smoothly. What happened with Shigure isn’t forgotten, but she doesn’t let it interfere with the rest of the night, Shigure also tame and uncombative. Maybe it had to do with talking to Hatori one on one, having given herself just a slice of what it was like to be the full center of his attention. The guilt is more palpable now.

--

Summer turns into fall, which turns into winter. Finals have been a dreaded and all-consuming thought that almost drove Mayu to rip all her hair out. She only had a until spring of next year until she obtained her degree and could finally say it was all worth it. But she hadn’t reached that stage yet and standing in line for coffee was the only thing that kept her going in the time being.

She doesn’t care much for the winter months, not finding any redeeming qualities in the biting cold and shortened hours of light. It seemed no matter the time of day her energy drained before she could get started, the kotatsu more welcoming than any invitation out to eat. But classes called, coercing her out of bed and dressed in whatever she pulled from her laundry, hair sloppily pulled into a high pony-tail. She’s not the paragon of messy-cute, however that works, but it’s enough to ger her through the day.

“Mayu-chan, is that you?” She turns before she registers who said her name, but it’s too late and Shigure stands in front of her, his own cup of hot liquid held in a gloved hand.

“Oh. Shigure-” Mayu starts.

“Let’s wait ‘til you’ve ordered,” he says briskly then walks towards an empty table, mind made up with a wordless invite following him. If she weren’t in public she would’ve groaned her displeasure of running into him. She entertains him though and heads to his table once she has her drink, sitting down stiffly in her mild irritation.

“It’s been awhile Mayu-chan. Even Kana-chan says you’re not available lately.” Shigure starts conversing, sounding and acting like old friends. She pauses for a moment. She decides to answer honestly.

“I’m just trying to get through classes. With finals coming up I haven’t put much time towards anything other than studying. I feel like my head’s gonna burst.”

“Is that what the coffee’s for?” He nods towards her still hot coffee.

“It’s the only thing keeping me going some days.”

“That’s not healthy, you know.”

Mayu huffs. “If you can find any other alternative, I’m all ears.”

“Put down the books and go to bed. Nothing beats a good night’s sleep.” Shigure’s smile is too pure and aloof, unaware of the inexhaustible pressures of classes and thesis’ and the spiraling self-doubt that accompanied it all. She doesn’t know if he’s had any formal higher education, but the empathy is apparent.

“I can’t just not study.” She says.

“Of course you still study. But is it really worth it when you’ve ran yourself into the ground?” Mayu studies his face. She can’t decide if he has an angle with his sudden advice, or if he’s making a genuine attempt to help her improve her daily life. It’s not unlike Shigure to say whatever pleases himself at the expense of others, manipulating their feelings to get his desired reaction. She wouldn’t dare exclude herself from that list of people.

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to get through this anyway I can.” She ends up saying.

“Well, why don’t I act as a distraction, a way to get you to put down the books and relax for a bit,” he states as if he planned to use this line on her. Mayu’s laugh doesn’t have much humor in it, disbelief a more prominent tone.

“Like hang out as friends?” She says, almost mocking him.

“Go out with me.”

Mayu jerks in surprise, eyes wide at the left-side comment. “Like dating?”

“Like dating.” He doesn’t follow up right away, waiting a moment to gauge her reaction, she guesses. “I mean, with Kana and Hatori together, that makes him unavailable to you.”

She conceals her expression to not show her surprise at the statement. She doesn’t bother with a response either. If he already knows there’s no denying it, but that doesn’t make it any less humiliating to be called out like that. Shigure only continues to smile as he waits for her response to his novel idea, and she wants to wipe it off his face. But she looks him in his eyes. She doesn’t see Hatori in them. They’re two completely different people with contrasting personalities and different standards of life. One of them has a girlfriend who happens to be her best friend. The other is sitting with her at a café, listening to her school woes and even offering her advice. She wants to say the answer is obvious and that a cold stone “no” is going to be the first thing out of her mouth. Instead, it’s “sure”. She’s not confident in her response, but Shigure doesn’t seem to mind and only looks more pleased that she’s agreed to it. Mayu doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into, but after Shigure and her part ways with a wave goodbye, she’s not sure if she’s making the right decision.

--

It’s easier being with Shigure than she expected. He doesn’t start arguments over benign disagreements, doesn’t demand her time and attention all day, and he’s, so far, pulled his punches where he used to run his mouth despite the backlash. Kana, Hatori, and Ayame are the only ones they’ve told so far, Shigure’s “Some times it’s more dangerous not to,” hanging over her head like some ominous foreboding. She doesn’t bother telling her mother, feeling only slightly guilty when she brings up the dreaded topic of marriage and Mayu acts as though her life hasn’t changed in the slightest. She even forgets she’s dating Shigure herself with his presence feeling more like a ghost, tethered but unreachable. Cold even. She doesn’t try and explain his actions away or make excuses for him, that’s a rabbit hole she doesn’t want to fall into, all they really do is show up for each other and make conversation. No spark, no keen interest in the other. Just two people being in the presence of each other to make up for another absence. At least, that’s why she agreed to this at all really, she tells herself.

Some days are lonelier than others, Shigure not a reliable presence when she feels she needs it most. Requests to see him are on his time, not hers, and she puts up with it, telling herself this never started out with intent, just a mutually beneficial relationship. She hasn’t worked out how just yet as she’s still unsure of what Shigure wants out if their time together. Helping with her studies was too weak of an excuse and not something that helped with her studies at all. When she’d asked once, he stated he had been bored. She thinks she should’ve been more offended by his patronizing words, but her intentions weren’t exactly honest herself, stress and desperation her own motivator. She goes back and forth in her mind if he has another lover on the side, undecided if he’s the kind of person to do that. She still doesn’t know.

One thing she finds herself being surprised about is his total lack of initiating any physical intimacy. A guy like Shigure she expected him to pull some suave moves on her to woo her into his bed, but any presumed opportunity that presented itself went untouched. She’s tried to rationalize to herself that he wasn’t attracted to smaller frames, his last comment on her body coming bitterly to mind.

Kana’s birthday is a catalyst for those feelings. It’s a weekend and Mayu expects herself to drink in celebration, not giving up alcohol entirely despite her long stint of sobriety for the sake of her grades. She made those mistakes early on.

It must be that the planets had aligned and aimed in their direction, giving Mayu the energy to laugh and sync up with everyone in the group. Shigure and Ayame tone down their usual antics with Hatori peeking out of his usually hard shell. Alcohol helps him loosen up, gradually becoming more flushed and vibrant as his speech opens the door to his other side. It’s endearing to Mayu, to see someone so outwardly impassive and not show any explicit emotion be reverted to a soul that doesn’t look burdened by their life, like he’s someone who actually sees the joy in what’s around them. Through it all, it spikes her adrenaline and forces a soft rouge to her face, making her more aware and susceptible to Shigure’s heat that’s next to her. He’s had enough to drink himself, being the sole reason any of them were this fucked up as he kept pulling bottle after bottle of sake out with no regard to limits.

Her, Shigure, and Ayame leave for the night, stumbling their way through town and to the metro, laughing at anything and everything. It’s as if she’s forgotten manners and everything her father and mother have dug into her head, the sound of her voice echoing off the walls and tunnels of the station far more entertaining than keeping quiet. Shigure and Ayame guffaw absurdly, causing her to join in without a care to the uneasy stares they receive.

They drop Ayame off with a theatrical goodbye between him and Shigure and walk back to her place with intent in mind, the heat only rising in her, forcing her legs into each step over the undulating sidewalk. Shigure keeps a steady pace beside her, neither straying nor meandering into her path. Her vision weaves and stutters, managing to old herself upright all the way up until she reaches her door. It takes a few stabs of her key for it slide into the bolt, clicking as it unlocked. She turns and holds Shigure’s gaze, hoping he can see what she’s presenting for him, the open door an encouraging invitation.

“Come in.”

Silence stretches as Shigure stands unmoving, hands in his pocket. Mayu can’t tell if the alcohol’s making it hard to process what she said or if he truly is standing there with no intention of coming inside, posture his rejection.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why’s it not a good idea?”

“We’ve drank quite a lot. It wouldn’t be right.”

“For who? You?” She snorts. Shigure doesn’t smile.

“Look,” Mayu feels the floor shift under her as if on a pendulum going back and forth. “I’m a grown woman, and if it’s my honor you’re so worried about—don’t. I don’t need to be treated or looked at like some delicate flower who can’t make her own decisions. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to.”

Shigure does smile at that. “I certainly don’t view you as a delicate flower. Delicate flowers don’t make drunken commands on their doorstep.”

“Then why?” Mayu doesn’t register his backhanded comment. “You don’t touch me. You don’t kiss me. I know you said you were bored, but how fucking bored are you?!” She doesn’t mean to spill it all at once. Insecurities of past combine with present, forcing her built-up thoughts out into the open. She’s brushed it off over and over, started making excuses and kept going about her day, but the clear dismissal hits her open and festering nerves. Sure, the alcohol is a boost, but her emotions are real, her thoughts are real, and the words that came out of her mouth are real. Shigure has the gull to look surprised at her outburst, as if she was going to continue staying silent on the subject, letting it slide like she has over the course of their time together.

Shigure’s head lulls up and to the side, revealing glassy and wandering eyes. “I think if that’s how you feel we—”

“No!”

Shigure startles.

“No! You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to be the one who does it. I’m doing it right now, we’re breaking up!”

All that’s heard are the distant cars driving on the street below them. Shigure’s eyes are still wide with his jaw unhinged, a look she’s going to revel in for the rest of her life. A shiver runs through him that brings him back to a more neutral expression.

“I was going to say I should go home and we can talk in the morning.”

Mayu shakes her head. Of course he was going to suggest that, of course he would make her feel like the irrational one. It doesn’t matter. Whatever was going on between them was nothing, and is nothing. In reality, he served no purpose to her, never went out of his way for her and never displayed any sort of romantic affection. Desperation may have driven her to this moment, but she realizes now the increasing disappointment she felt as time went on was only driving her to latch on to Shigure more, dreading having to acknowledge the parts of her that have been rejected.

She doesn’t fault Kana or Hatori for how things worked out between, she still cares for them deeply, but she can fault Shigure for suggesting this while she had her guard was down. Feeling inferior, turns out, allows people like him to seep into their cracks and nestle there, leaving no room for healing. She’s surer now than she’s felt before. She’s glad she’s drunk.

“I meant what I said. I’m done.”

Shigure just nods his head like he’s agreeing where to go for dinner. “Alright then. Have a good night, Mayu-chan.” He walks away. She doesn’t bother watching him go.

--

Besides the hangover the day after breaking up with Shigure, the days following are smooth and dreamlike, waking up without the doubt and increasing anxiety over a relationship that never cared about her. Kana’s called to see if she’s okay, trying to get out of Mayu why she bothered with him in the first place. Her response of “just wanted to try it out” is lackluster even if slightly true. But her switch has been flipped and it takes her being away from Shigure to see how much her desperation allowed her to wallow in her self-pity and make excuses for herself.

Mayu doesn’t see Shigure for some time, going to classes and seeing her parents, not bothering for half a second to look in the direction of another man. She’s sure at this point she would just bite his head off and feed his headless corpse into a garbage compactor. Maybe just Shigure’s.

All of that changes when Kana gets sick.

With cheekbones sunken in, pallor splashing across her face, eyes empty and cracked with red lines, Kana’s entire being looks worn out and rattled. The Sohma family head, Hatori’s eye, Kana’s guilt over what she couldn’t control has manifested itself through possession of Kana’s mind, bringing her to her knees and restricting her outlook. Mayu’s heart only breaks for her, sitting delicately by her side unsure of what else to say or do, all her words and actions preceding having no effect. She tells herself, and Kana, that it just takes time, although she thinks it more often than says it as a way to keep herself grounded every time Kana breaks into another bout of tears. Guilt starts to settle in when she starts excusing herself early, needing fresh air and distancing herself from everything. She can’t begin to understand what Kana’s going through, and she wouldn’t even scratch the surface to understand the Sohmas and how their family head is protected after doing what they did.

Mayu doesn’t see Hatori during any of this. It doesn’t feel appropriate to engage with him in any manner that would cause him upset in regard to Kana. He’s going through this as much as Kana is, and more.

Mayu continues checking on Kana, until one day she walks in and Kana is out of bed. She looks exhausted, the emotional turmoil having taken an obvious toll on her body, but she’s upright and moving about and then she smiles at Mayu. Mayu smiles back, catching a glimpse of the old Kana she’s known for so long now. Then Kana opens her mouth and everything she says, everything she emotes contradicts what she went thru. She talks about Hatori formally, like they didn’t spend the last several months spending every waking moment together. She’s stunned into silence, doesn’t comment on it or try and deny anything. It’s all too fresh and sending Kana back to how she was before would wipe all this progress away. Mayu’s unsure how she got here, considering maybe Kana blocked the memories out as a way to save her soul. Mayu leaves feeling confused and uncertain of this new approach Kana has taken. She’s not going to school to become a psychologist, but she knows this can’t be beneficial for her health, despite Kana’s sure smiles and optimism of returning to full health. Something’s not right.

“Mayu-chan.”

Mayu looks up to see Shigure standing only several meters in front of her. She hadn’t seen him as she walked out of the Sohma estate, her drunken break up proclamation the last time she saw him at all. She doesn’t get a sense of needing to feel proud and march by him with her head held high, too drawn in with clouded thoughts to care about any of that.

“Visiting Kana?” He asks.

Mayu swallows. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“She’s forgotten. Everything. Like it never happened, and Hatori-san was only her boss. I don’t get it…” She trials off, nearing despondent. It’s nearing the end of February and it’s still frigid and stale outside, breath appearing between them.

“Hmm. That is peculiar.” His expression betrays him through his words. It doesn’t seem at all peculiar to him. He tries to excuse himself and continue his way back to the Sohma estate but Mayu blocks his way.

“What do you know?” She demands.

Shigure doesn’t appear bothered. “I don’t know anything. People don’t normally just forget things. That’s why it’s odd.” He tries to move again; she continues blocking him. Now he’s starting to look irritated with a slight slant to his eyes.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get back to the main estate.” He says, terse.

“Not until you tell me what happened. You know.” Mayu stares him down, Shigure maintaining a strong front. It takes a moment until Shigure scans their surroundings then gestures for her to follow him. It surprises her that he caves, expecting him to ditch her without any answers, leaving her severely unsatisfied and frustrated. They had been by the entrance of the Sohma estate and watchfully step out into the open public.

Shigure looks more serious than she’s ever seen him. “Mayu-chan. Not everything can go as planned, or as wanted. There are some things meant to be kept as secrets, never for anyone else’s eyes. Sometimes those secrets get out and those involved are to never let those secrets be known. There’s a tradition within the Sohma where certain individuals are selected and trained in a type of hypnosis. It’s memory suppression, a way to put those secrets to the back of the mind. It’s never truly forgotten, but it’s harder to remember. After everything, Kana couldn’t handle having those memories and chose to have them suppressed. She no longer remembers Hatori as a partner, only as a colleague.” After he finishes, Mayu’s mouth flutters for something to say but nothing ever comes out, caught up in wrapping her mind around Kana choosing to forget everything, no longer wanting to live with those memories.

She gathers her composure and finds her voice. “Thanks.” She has no other words for what he’s told her, turning and walking away, her default mode switching on and taking her back to her place.

--

Mayu roots herself to her studies over the next couple of weeks, finals and graduation just around the corner, and simultaneously using it as a proper distraction from her meltdown not too long ago. What Shigure had said shook her more to her core than she could put into words. Two people who suffered from a tragic incident, and one chose to forget while the other was left with those memories and the knowledge that the other forgot. It makes her heart heavy in her chest, the burden of the fallout almost too much to bear as she looked back to Kana being sick, and then not. She didn’t mean to break down in front of Kana the way she did, curling into herself and being comforted by the person who indirectly pushed Mayu to that point. She’s not mad, never could she be mad, but putting distance between herself and the black hole that constantly threatens to pull her in helps ease her anxiety.

Mayu still hasn’t seen or spoken to Hatori. She misses him and his calming presence, his pleated pants and pristine button ups, his baritone voice that carries over her, lulling her right where she wants to be. It becomes increasingly clear to her that her only connection with Hatori was through Kana, the one median they had. She only ever got to know him as a friend, and as much as she dreamed about more, knew it was never meant to be that.

When she’s home and not occupied by anything she always manages to end up with him in her thoughts, wishing him well and hoping that he heals. It’s all she can do. Kana’s bounced back, finding another doctor’s office to work for and retelling happy memories that make them both smile. Kana will be fine, but Mayu will never know about Hatori and if he was able to find a light spot in all the darkness he had to go through. She wonders if it follows him the way it’s followed Mayu, where her mind projects images through her dreams, or she sees their forms from behind in strangers, causing her to shake her head and push the illusions away. She finds her emotional involvement lingers to the side, ready to strike where it fancies.

But time goes on and Kana’s there to celebrate with her at her graduation ceremony, diploma in hand parents pouring their praise for her. She thinks about it less as she gets situated with her job at Kaibara High, still seeing Kana a few times a month to catch up, only feeling a small sting when Kana mentions other men she’s interested in. She never mentions her conversation with Shigure to anyone, feeling it’s in everyone’s best interests to keep it to herself. The Sohma’s are an anomaly, her opinion only becoming exacerbated when she ends up with two of them in her class, reintroducing Shigure back into her life by association and bringing her experiences full circle.

It’s a hard pill to swallow acknowledging what happened in years passed while still maintaining a front of being put together and unbothered. There’s a small part of her that holds out for seeing Hatori at some point and seeing who he’s become since she knew his past self.

All it takes is one summer, and one glance, and it’s as if the years haven’t passed.