#if you see any grammar or spelling errors no you don't lmao

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

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You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

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He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

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On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[demetris-cocksleeve]

⚠️IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT⚠️

Hey, guys... so I've been writing on here for the last 2 years (almost 3) and while I have loved every second of it I can't do it anymore.

I can't....

...keep Pirate! Bakugo to myself any longer...

Imagine you're running, through shabby alleys and past the cess pools your town calls taverns, weaving through the crowded pathways; a couple of men are chasing you, their angry shouts getting mixed with the hustle of the busy streets. You turn your head to risk a glance at your pursuers- shit, they're closer than you thought.

Just as you turn your head back and go to put once last push into your gait, you slam into something big and solid. The sudden arm in your way clotheslines you and sends you scrambling for anything to keep you upright. Not that you need to- the same arm that sent you reeling now has the front of your shirt, hauling you upright.

"Oi!-" The arm's owner barks out, just to be interrupted by the men chasing you.

"Thank you! This little bitch stole our coin," the shorter of the pair turns his yellowed snarl to your form, still held in the strangers steel-like grip.

"I stole nothing!" You growl back, desperately trying to free yourself. Your nails dig into your captor's wrist, but he remains unfazed.

You finally see his face when he turns to you. His eyes bore into your own as he stares you down. "D'ja take their shit?"

His messy blonde hair casts a scary loom over the top half of his face, almost making his blood reds glow. "I didn't steal anything..." you grunt out, trying to yank yourself free.

"So, you're a thief AND a lia-" The taller accuser snarks.

"Enough," the man holding you says, deadly calm. "She said she didn't steal it, so go."

The men raise their voices, yelling their injustices. The second man makes a swipe at you, trying to tug you away from your newfound savior. In a flash, the man yanks you behind him and clocks him in the jaw, felling him.

The other evidently decides that there are more important things to squabble over because he leaves his companion in the dust, clutching his face.

"Leave." The blonde growls, towering over the guy's pathetic form.

Neither of you moves as he scrambles away, stumbling over himself as he rounds a corner.

Your eyes widen. "Wha-"

Once gone, he turns to look at you. "Where is it?"

"-Don't play games with me. Where is it?"

You huff as you reach into your bra and pull out to coin purse. "How'd you know?"

"Only the guilty run. Now hand it over."

Eyeing his outstretched hand, you contemplate how far you could get if you ran. When he cocks his eyebrow, you relent, handing the bag over. You've done enough running today to last you a lifetime.

"What are you? An undercover constable?"

His face twists into an ugly snarl, "Opposite end o' the spectrum, doll." You watch as he counts out the gold, pocketing a few coins and tossing the bag back to you.

"Don't look at me like that- Pirates don't work for free."

-

Now imagine that each time he comes to port, you end up running into each other. Sometimes figuratively, other times literally (you're very prone to be chased through the streets - it's definitely NEVER your fault, though...).

You've seen him beat people up for looking at him the wrong way, so the confusion never fades about why he decided to help you all those months ago. You've asked, of course, but all you get is a noncommittal grunt or a large palm pushing you away by the face as he trudges past you.

Eventually, the "coincidental" visits turn into gifts- nothing huge, just little trinkets that "I've no use for the damned thing, thought cha might, though..."

Dont ask. I've had this in my drafts for almost 3 years, so I figured I'd just post it, lmao. If there's any grammar mistakes/spelling errors, blame 17 year old me, I didn't proofread this - I just added that first bit🙃

[chr0macide]

Break In 2: The Novelette (Fanfic)

PART 1

got damn I finally finished this. Writers block was wilding on my ass so I hope this didn't turn out like shit lol. I drew a lil bit of art for this fanfic (I say "drew" but a lot of it is just textures from google edited together into a picture lmao). Just 3 pics but yeah I got bored and wanted to draw. Might make a separate post for them sometime so people who don't wanna read or scroll through this can see them.

I recommend reading part 1, there are some references and callbacks that you might not get if you haven't read it already.

Again if you see any grammar/spelling errors please tell me. don't let me just leave that shit in because that's hella embarrassing 🙃

oh also for those who don’t know, the premise of this fanfic is basically just me turning the game into a short story

TW implied sexual violence (not involving any main characters, relatively short section, but its there)

This one is about 16,000 words, alright lets do this

Chapter I – Unsafe Haven

A fork of lightning illuminated the woods as Prince drove down the trail at a snail’s pace. The deluge was so heavy that it was almost impossible to see through the windshield, even with the wipers on. He brought the car to a standstill and let the engine idle.

“We’re gonna have to wait the storm out,” Prince told the kids. “Can’t keep driving like this.”

Stephanie kicked the back of Prince’s seat. “Worst camping trip ever,” she grumbled with her tiny voice.

“Relax. We’ll get there,” the elder brother said, but the truth was that he may or may not have taken a wrong turn through the thick fog.

It had been almost a year since the four kids had butted heads with their not-so-friendly neighborhood mafia. Well, three kids and one adult; Prince had turned 18 a few months ago. They’d been holed up in their house for too long, paranoid that Larry and his mobsters might show up for a little payback. It didn’t help that there had been a string of missing person reports in the area. To their dismay, their own uncle had disappeared, not to mention that the mob boss himself had vanished soon after they’d deactivated him. He hadn’t been sighted since, though, so Prince and Monica thought an outing would help take their minds off of everything.

They had everything they needed. The weather report had been favorable, yet rain was battering their windows. Prince folded his arms as he heard another clash of thunder. His boredom was replaced with panic as the subsequent flash of lightning struck the tree closest to them.

“Everyone out! Now!” he yelled as the trunk splintered and started to topple towards them. The kids tumbled out of the car and ran off as the tree smashed into the hood. The car alarm screamed.

“Could this trip get any worse?” Monica huffed as she walked around their totaled coupé. She popped the trunk and rummaged around inside.

Prince reached out and pulled her away. “Monica, wait, the engine-”

He was cut off as the crushed engine spat out a plume of smoke and exploded.

The kids stared at their flaming car.

“Shit,” said Hadrian.

Prince sighed. “Yeah.”

They looked around. They thought they’d reach the campsite early in the evening, but the storm had stalled them for so long that night had already come. Prince could hardly see the path ahead of them. “You didn’t happen to pull a flashlight out of there before it blew up, right?” he asked Monica.

Monica looked at the first aid kit she’d rescued. “No.”

“Damn. Well… we shouldn’t just stand around, I guess. Come on,” Prince said to the others. They climbed over the fallen tree and set off down the trail on foot.

The muddy path squelched under their shoes and thorns snagged their clothes as they trudged forward. Prince knew they should hurry, but shrubs and tree roots obscured by the shadows threatened to trip them up and send them face first into the dirt if they walked too fast.

Prince pulled out his cellphone as they moved, grumbling in frustration as the rain impaired the touchscreen. He tried to dial emergency services. No signal. He almost bumped into a traffic barricade in front of him while he was shoving the phone back into his damp pocket. “The hell? What is this doing here?”

He felt Monica tug on his sleeve.

“Do you see that?” Monica asked, pointing into the trees. It took Prince a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about, but he spied a yellow light blinking in the distance.

“What is it?” he wondered.

“I don’t know… but look.” Monica gestured downwards. There was a gravel path leading away from the barricaded trail. It looked like they’d be taking a detour.

“Let’s see if there’s a building there,” Monica suggested. Prince was apprehensive about veering off the main path, but he had no clue how far the campground was, if they were even going in the right direction. Maybe this was a better option. He and the other kids followed her.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the origin of the light. Steel walls stretched into the trees. The faint beams of moonlight that made it through the leaves glinted on the razor wire resting atop the fortifications.

A control panel was affixed to the wall next to the heavy-duty vertical lift door. There was the light source: a yellow diode, flashing on and off in the dark.

Prince peered through the doorway. It was already open. “What is this? A military base?”

Monica knitted her brow. “Maybe, but why would they leave the door like this?”

“I don’t see anyone.” The place gave him an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it was freezing, and his clothes were soaked all the way through. He stepped inside.

The dwelling had evidently been abandoned for a long time. One ceiling light persevered, shining weakly in the darkness. The floor was littered with trash and a sticky layer of dust coated the tiles. Corroded storage lockers lined one of the walls. The other was plastered with crappy graffiti.

Prince didn’t see anyone else. He beckoned the others inside. However, right as the last kid stepped through, there was another flash of lightning. The panel next to the door sparked and short circuited. Everyone flinched as the door slammed down with a loud bang.

“What the hell!” Prince exclaimed as he turned around. He gave the door a kick. It didn’t budge. The unlocking mechanism had failed. He tried tinkering with the control panel, but all he got was an electric shock. “Ow.”

Prince knew he wasn’t about to break through solid metal. The kids glanced around the room nervously. “Look for another way out,” Prince told everyone.

There was only one other door on the opposite wall. Monica made her way over and gently pushed it open, but it was just a stairwell leading even deeper down into the building. She shook her head at Prince. “Nothing here.”

Hadrian started to open the old lockers, searching for something that might be useful. He grimaced as he came upon one that wasn’t empty.

“Guys. Look,” Hadrian called out. The others crowded around. It was an all too familiar comedy mask that they’d hoped they would never have to see again. “I don’t think we’re in a military base.”

Prince’s stomach churned at the thought of running into Larry a second time. If he was uneasy before, he was on high alert now. In fact, he was so anxious that he nearly leapt out of his skin when something prodded the back of his leg.

The dog whined and sprang away as well before it ran away and cowered beneath a rotting wooden table. Its fur was patchy and matted. Muddy water was still dripping from it, but it looked like it might have been white underneath all that grime. It must have taken refuge here from the torrential downpour too before they arrived.

“A doggie!” Stephanie squealed in delight. She ran to pet it, but it growled and barked at her when she got close. “Mean doggie,” she pouted.

Prince paid no more attention to the dog. If there was a chance that there were gangsters prowling, he and the kids had to arm themselves. He didn’t see anything of use except a broken rack with a few rusty crowbars on it. He picked one up.

“Guess these will have to do.”

He tossed a couple to Monica and Hadrian.

“Hold up, you want us to go further inside?” Hadrian questioned as he caught the weapon.

“You got a better idea?”

Hadrian looked at the metal door, locked tight. “No,” he mumbled.

The group stood at the stairs. It was pitch black. A sense of déjà vu crept over Prince; it reminded him of the creepy basement back in his house. He dug through his pocket for his lighter and flicked it on, casting enough light down the steps for them to descend. The dog padded after them, though it still recoiled as Stephanie tried to touch it again.

They reached the base of the stairwell. Iron bars lined the walls on either side of them. It was some sort of jail. Prince thought the cells were all empty until someone stood up in the one right next to him.

Everyone yelped in alarm at the figure. Prince held his crowbar up defensively, even though the man was caged, but he looked familiar. He held his lighter up to illuminate his face.

“Uncle Pete?” Prince said, bewildered.

Pete waved. He grabbed the whiteboard attached to his belt. Hi Prince! Open the cell? he wrote.

“But I don’t have the key… oh, wait,” Prince said as he remembered that he was holding a crowbar. He jammed it in between the lock and the doorframe and broke the gate open. “But how did you get here?”

Mafia wanted some of my properties. Locked me up here alone when I wouldn’t transfer ownership, Pete scrawled as he stepped out of the cell.

“Oh, man. We were really worried,” Prince said as everyone wrapped Pete up in a group hug. “Wait a second. Does that mean there are mobsters nearby?”

No. Upper levels of the base are abandoned. Everyone is in lower levels.

Prince’s brow furrowed. Pete looked at him quizzically.

“The entrance malfunctioned. We can’t get out the way we came in,” Prince explained. Pete looked pensive now.

Only other way out is elevator on lowest level. Leads to south exit. Don’t know exactly where it is, but we would have to keep going down. Pete pointed at the other end of the jailhouse. More stairs. They were going to be seeing a lot of those.

The last thing Prince wanted to do was to delve into a criminal hideout, but they didn’t have any other choice. “How deep before we start running into mobsters?” he asked Pete as they walked to the staircase and descended further.

Pretty deep. Not sure about the exact level. I don’t th

Pete stopped writing as they reached the next area and looked around warily. It was some kind of common area, just as derelict as the previous rooms, but something felt off. Prince squinted through the dim lighting. The coffee table was caked with dust, but one handprint-shaped patch was clean.

Someone was in there with them.

Chapter II – Hackerman

Monica guarded herself with her first aid kit as a masked mafioso stood up from behind the couch and swung his crowbar at her. The plastic case cracked, but she retaliated with a jab to his gut with her own weapon. He clutched his abdomen in pain as Monica brought her weapon down on his head, knocking him out.

The guy wasn’t alone. Four of his buddies emerged from hiding while Monica was fending off the first, and they rushed the kids all at once. Pete hastily grabbed the crowbar that the downed mobster had dropped. He attacked one who was coming up on Prince’s side. He and Hadrian were kept busy by a couple of other mafiosos from the front. There was a brief scuffle before Pete managed to land a headshot and knock him unconscious as well.

Hadrian tried to lunge at one of his attackers, but the mobster hooked his crowbar around Hadrian’s own weapon and yanked it out of his hands. With nothing to defend himself, all he could do was shield his face with his arms. There was a crunch as the mobster’s crowbar met his forearm. He cried out in pain. “Fuck! Not again!”

The group withdrew further into the room as the remaining mobsters closed in on them. As their aggressors engaged them again, Prince fumbled and dropped his still-burning lighter amidst the chaos. The dust on the plush carpet ignited instantly. A blockade of smoke and fire materialized surprisingly quickly between him and the mafiosos.

“Come on!” urged Prince retreated through the next door. The dog darted ahead of him, spooked by the flames. Pete and the kids followed, but the mobsters had to fall back to the jailhouse to escape the inferno. It had been a quick fight, but Prince was shaking from the adrenaline. He turned to Pete.

“You said the upper levels were abandoned!”

Pete shrugged his shoulders and shook his head cluelessly. They are! I don’t know what they’re doing here, he wrote.

The blaze cast a flickering orange glow into the hallway they’d ended up in. At least this place looked empty. Monica made Hadrian sit on the ground and started fixing a splint to his arm. He sighed in defeat. They’d only just got here, and he was already out of the fight.

Prince cautiously opened the door next to them. A janitorial closet. He’d lost his lighter in the last room. They weren’t going to be able to see a thing once they left the fire behind, so he went inside and investigated the shelves.

He picked up a flashlight and brushed the dust off. “Lucky us.”

“See if it turns on first,” said Monica skeptically.

Prince flipped the switch. He smacked the flashlight into the palm of his hand a few times when it didn’t turn on. Nothing happened. “Damn it.”

He shoved the flashlight under his coat. Maybe they would come across some batteries later. As Monica finished patching up Hadrian’s arm, the group continued to the elevator on the other end of the hallway. Prince pushed the call button. “I don’t suppose this thing will take us out of here?”

Pete shook his head as the doors slid open. The control panel only contained deeper floors. His finger hovered over the button that would take them the lowest. They didn’t know precisely how far down the inhabited levels were, and he didn’t want to be jumped again as soon as the elevator reopened. He decided to select one of the higher ones. Better safe than sorry, Prince thought.

They said nothing as the elevator closed and took them downwards. They couldn’t see anything except the red LED display above the door. The floor number ticked into the negatives until it ground to a halt unexpectedly.

“Hold up. That’s not the level I chose,” Prince whispered. He could hear everyone shifting around in the dark as they prepared for the worst.

The doors opened. The person outside the elevator screamed and fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see anyone. Prince had his crowbar at the ready, but the guy was clad in a hoodie and jeans instead of one of the tailored suits that the mob usually wore.

“Uh… hi,” said Prince.

“Hey? You guys don’t look like mobsters,” the young man replied as he straightened his sunglasses.

“You don’t, either.”

“’Cause I’m not. What are you doing here if you aren’t one of them?” the stranger asked shiftily.

Prince shrugged. “We ran in here during a thunderstorm. Door malfunctioned. Now we’re trapped.”

The stranger buried his hands in his dark hair. “Are you fucking kidding me? The north exit is jammed? I snuck all the way up here for nothing!”

“You’re sneaking out? Were you a prisoner?” Monica probed.

“Ugh. Yeah, yeah, I was,” mumbled the man, who was now pacing around outside the elevator. “Name’s Helios-”

Hadrian snickered. Helios shot him a look.

“What? It’s a code name! I work for the government. I’m not supposed to tell people my real one.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sure, dude. Whatever.”

“OK, Helios… why were they keeping you down here?” asked Prince.

“I got abducted during the killing purge last year. They’ve been making me work for them. I’m a hacker,” Helios explained. “I managed to slip away from my station a while ago. They went batshit looking for me. It was a nightmare getting up here, and now I have to go all the way back down,” he groaned.

“Really? So you know where the south exit is,” Prince surmised.

Helios held up his phone. “Yeah. I got a blueprint of this place.” He stepped into the elevator with them, but he pursed his lips when he saw which level they had been heading towards. “Nah. That’s the first populated level. The guards would’ve rocked your shit. Get outta this thing,” he urged, gesturing for them to follow him into the floor they were at: a computer room. Most of the computers were powered off and missing keyboards, save for one, which had been plugged into one of the power outlets. Helios must have been using it.

“Any chance you can fix the door upstairs? I think it short circuited,” Monica inquired.

“No shot. I’m a hacker. Not an electrician. But like I said, I know exactly where the south exit is,” Helios responded. The group looked at his phone as he pulled up his map of the base. He marked the spot where the exit was. This place had a lot more floors than Prince had expected.

“This is going to suck,” he murmured.

“Tell me about it. We gotta go on foot, too, ‘cause this elevator won’t take us to the right place,” said Helios as he beckoned them out of the computer lab.

The corridors here were tight and winding. Their footsteps echoed through the metal walls, rough with oxidization and lined with rusty pipes. Stagnant water still dripped from some of them.

Prince grew anxious as he followed Helios. They’d been walking for a while without reaching any stairs or elevators. “Helios, where are you taking us? We’re still on the same floor,” he questioned.

“Relax. We’re making a pit stop,” Helios replied, waving Prince’s concern away.

“Dude, we don’t have time-“

Helios shushed him. They were in front of a door with a round window. Prince peered over Helios’s shoulder to see inside. He’d taken them to a kitchen, and Prince realized that they did, in fact, need to eat.

“How do you know there’s still food in here?” he asked the hacker.

Helios shushed him again. “I came here while I was on the way to the top level. Lower your damn voice. There’s someone inside,” he hissed.

Prince took a closer look through the round window. The oven was on. There was a mobster leaning against the countertop, facing away from them. Only one. “What is that guy doing all the way up here?” he whispered.

“No idea, but he’s alone. Just go bonk him,” Helios encouraged.

Prince moved forward Helios stepped out of the way. He put a hand on the door and gradually eased it open. Thankfully, the hinges didn’t squeak, so he crept inside until he was right behind the mafioso. Prince raised his crowbar.

The door clicked shut. The mobster whirled around at the noise. Prince faltered. His mouth hung open slightly in disbelief as he recognized the mafioso.

“Isaiah?”

Isaiah was scrambling for his own crowbar, but he paused when he heard his name. “Prince?”

Prince let his arm fall to his side. “What the actual shit? You’re still working for the mob?” he exclaimed.

“Why the hell are you in the base?” Isaiah blurted out in an equally baffled tone.

The door creaked as Helios edged it open. “Prince? You good?”

Hadrian pushed him out of the way with his good arm. “Nice to see a familiar face,” he said.

Isaiah looked even more confounded as Pete and the kids emerged. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

Prince was beginning to get tired of recounting that. “There’s a storm outside. Ran in here. North entrance short circuited. Stuck. Explain why you’re here,” he demanded.

“Because I work here, dumbass,” Isaiah snapped. “You can’t just leave the mafia. They hunt deserters down… not to mention that I got fired from Builder Brothers. The owner found out I had ties to the mob, and now this is the only job I can get,” he muttered bitterly.

Prince scowled, but he supposed Isaiah had a point. “OK, I get it, but why is Larry still letting you work here? You helped us deactivate him.”

“He’s not in charge anymore. Haven’t seen him since that sewer brawl, actually. Someone else took over his duties,” Isaiah revealed.

Prince’s eyebrows shot up. “But a bunch of mobsters ran off with his body. It was on the news. They must have reactivated him, right?”

“Nope. He didn’t show up here, as far as I know. No idea what happened to him.”

The kids glanced at each other uneasily. “Who’s in charge now, then?” said Prince.

“Never met her, but her name is Mary Gearwise.”

“Gearwise? Let me guess, another automaton? Where are all these killer robots coming from?”

Isaiah shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just a grunt… wait, aren’t you the hacker that escaped a while ago?” he realized, pointing at Helios.

The hacker looked at him warily. “Maybe. Your friend isn’t gonna turn me in, right?” he asked Prince.

“I ain’t no snitch,” laughed Isaiah.

“Then will you help us get out of the base?” Prince implored.

Isaiah’s smile faded. “Man, do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if I get caught with you guys?”

“Come on, at least help us until we start running into goons. You can wear your mask. They won’t know who you are.”

The mobster picked up his mask from the counter. He mulled Prince’s words over as he looked at it. “I guess so.”

The oven dinged. “On a lighter note… pizza’s done.” Isaiah grabbed an old mitt and pulled the serving board out and placed it on the countertop.

Prince had forgotten about the oven. “Why the hell are you making a pizza all the way up here?” Helios questioned incredulously, gesturing around at the soiled kitchen.

Isiah scratched his neck. “I got hungry, and I didn’t wanna share it with the other guys, OK? So I took a frozen pizza up here.”

“You were gonna eat a whole pizza?”

“Shut up. You guys can have some if you want. You probably aren’t gonna get your hands on food again until you make it out of here,” Isaiah told everyone.

As they ate, the dog nudged the door open with his nose and squeezed through. He’d stayed outside, but it seemed that the smell of cooking had enticed him. Stephanie held out a slice of pizza and tried to coax him closer. The dog gingerly took the slice in his mouth and devoured it ravenously.

Stephanie giggled. The dog let her pet him this time. She read the name tag on his collar. “Twado!” she squeaked. Twado wagged his tail.

The dog chewed on the empty pizza box as Isaiah looked at his watch. He pulled a flashlight out from under his jacket. “We gotta go. I better get you guys out of here while most of the base is asleep,” he said as he motioned for the group to follow him.

They reached a crossroad after a while. “Dude, the map says the closest stairwell is that way,” Helios contested, jabbing a thumb at the right passageway as Isaiah turned left.

“Your map is old. We never update those things. I know a short-”

Isaiah stopped talking mid-sentence as a rusty pipe on the ceiling ruptured in front of him. Scalding hot water hissed as it splashed against the cold metal floor and turned to steam. He didn’t fancy third-degree burns. “Damn. Guess we’re taking the long way around.”

They trailed through the narrow corridors behind the mobster in silence until Prince’s soles started to get sore. Too many stairs, but they eventually ran into a door.

Isaiah reached for the handle. “I think—SHIT!”

He jerked his hand back as the pipe next to the door burst as well, but it wasn’t water that erupted. Isaiah ripped his glove off and threw it to the ground as the substance ate through it.

“What the hell is that?” Price exclaimed.

“It’s the stuff we poured into the sewers last purge. Thought we shut off all the valves already. I need to quit coming up here,” muttered the mafioso. “Nevermind. There’s another way in this room.” He turned to the door on the opposite wall and pushed it open.

They were in an old dormitory. The entrance to the stairwell was on the other side of the room. “As I was saying, I think the next level down is… uh…”

Isaiah stopped in the middle of the room and went silent. He looked up at the entresol. More than a few doors were slightly ajar.

“Isaiah? Something wrong?” Prince whispered.

“The doors were shut last time I was here,” he whispered back.

It was another ambush. The mafiosos threw the dormitory doors open and jumped down from the entresol. Prince cried out as one of them landed on him. He lost his weapon as he wrestled on the floor with the aggressor and grunted in pain when he felt something sharp pierce his side. Twado ran over and clamped his fangs around the mafioso’s leg.

Isaiah hurriedly pulled his mask over his face as more mobsters jumped down and confronted him.

“Is that you, Isa-”

He silenced his colleague with a crowbar to the face before he could get his name out. The other two elected to simply charge at him and Helios without any pleasantries. He dropped his flashlight as they clashed.

Prince felt around for his crowbar in the dark as Twado dragged his attacker away. He heard a yelp Monica clocked the mobster on the head.

Pete stood in front of Hadrian and Stephanie as two more advanced on them. They laughed as they brandished their weapons. “Why don’t you put that crowbar down before you hurt yourself, old man?” one of them snickered. Hadrian covered his sister’s eyes.

Prince found his weapon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He looked over at his uncle as one mobster seized his crowbar while the other delivered a strike to his head, but they turned around as he and Monica came up behind them. Prince tore the blade out of his side and drove it into one of the unsuspecting mobsters’ eyes. She screamed and reeled as Monica aimed a blow at the other mafioso, who sidestepped the hit, but now Prince was coming at him as well.

The mobster made a dash for the stairs, only to run into Isaiah. The two mobsters who’d been accosting him lay in a pile. Isaiah promptly sliced his associate’s throat open using a switchblade of his own. He clutched at the wound and gasped for air, but he could only cough and choke on his blood.

Isaiah scowled beneath his mask at all the noise his victim was making and shut him up with a sharp blow to the skull. He crumpled to the ground, still wheezing and spluttering while unconscious.

That was the last of them. Hadrian picked up Pete’s fallen sunglasses for him. He put them back on as Monica pulled Prince’s bloodied coat off.

“How bad is it?” Prince asked.

Monica grabbed the flashlight from the ground at held it up to inspect Prince’s wound. “Well, since you’re still standing, it’s probably not that deep. I’d put you on bed rest, but…”

She didn’t bother finishing. There was no time for bed rest in this place, of course. There was nothing she could do except clean it and stitch it up.

“They were waiting for us. How did they know you were here?” Isaiah wondered.

Prince shrugged. “We were attacked earlier as well on one of the top levels. I don’t suppose you have security cameras around here?”

“No. Not since…” Isaiah gestured at Helios.

“I knocked them offline while I was trying to escape,” the hacker said. “I know for a fact they’re still down. They couldn’t have seen you.”

Isaiah paced around the dormitory wordlessly as Monica sutured Prince’s wound shut, deep in thought. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on. We have to-”

He stopped talking as the mobster next to him stirred. There was a crunch as Isaiah stomped on his neck, killing him. Everyone else winced.

“What the hell, Isaiah? That’s not necessary,” Prince admonished.

“Yes, it was. He saw my face earlier. I told you I’m fucked if one of these assholes reports me.”

“He was already unconscious!”

Isaiah got up in Prince’s face, but Helios interrupted their spat before he could say anything. “You two better start getting along, ‘cause we need to make a plan,” he said as he nudged Isaiah away and planted himself between them. He gestured all around at the fallen mafiosos. “We’re gonna be running into plenty of these guys when we reach the bottom of those stairs.”

“Oh. Right. That’s what I was trying to tell you guys earlier. It’s a good thing we ended up in here, actually,” Isaiah said as he disappeared into one of the dorms. They heard him rooting around inside until he came out with a bunch of suits and masks slung over his shoulder, a little faded with age, but still wearable. He dumped them in a pile on the ground. “Ol’ reliable. Everyone put one of these things on.”

Prince pulled a duffel bag out of the pile while he was looking for something his size. “What’s this for?”

“That’s for Twado,” said Isaiah.

Twado gave him the side-eye.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. The boss doesn’t allow dogs in here. You’ll blow our cover if anyone sees you.”

The dog allowed Isaiah to lower him into the bag, but then the group encountered the same problem as last time. Stephanie was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Maybe we can hide her in the middle of the group again?” Prince suggested.

Isaiah shook his head. “It’s not gonna work. The hallways aren’t wide enough.”

The mafioso drummed his fingers on the strap of the duffel bag. Nobody else was offering up any ideas.

“I know what we can do,” he spoke hesitantly. Everyone looked at him.

Prince blinked. “Well? Spit it out.”

Isaiah held up a hand. “Don’t get mad at me for it.”

Prince’s eyes narrowed.

“First of all, this base is part of a sex trafficking ring,” said Isaiah.

“You better not be about to say any dumb shit.”

Isaiah held up both hands now. “Just listen! We pretend,” he continued, enunciating the ‘pretend’ very clearly, “that Stephanie is one of the girls we abducted—”

“You guys take little girls for that?” Hadrian admonished.

“Look, man, I just work in the canteen. This place didn’t even have a human trafficking branch when I got here. As I was saying, we pretend she’s a…”

Isaiah trailed off as Prince stared daggers.

“Prisoner,” the mobster said slowly. When the elder brother didn’t throttle him, he kept talking. “The shortest path to the exit involves one of the, uh, filming areas, so that’ll be her excuse to be there.”

Helios looked at his blueprint. “He’s right. There’s gonna be another elevator at the end of the filming area’s hallway.” He zoomed in on the location.

Isaiah leaned over to inspect the map as well. “We can ride it to that detention level and act like we’re taking her to a holding cell,” he said as he pointed out a floor below the filming area, “but we can veer away towards the west edge of the base. That place is as deserted as the upper levels. We’ll make our way through there until we reach the lowest level. After that… it gets more difficult.”

“No kidding,” Helios agreed. “That’s where the boss lives. The whole floor is teeming with goons, but the ventilation shafts that far underground are so big that we can fit through them. So, we sneak over to where the elevator is. Get out of the vents while nobody’s looking. Ride it all the way up to the south exit. No sweat,” he schemed as he drew a path with his finger from their location to the exit.

Prince still looked vaguely pissed off, but he nodded. “OK. Fine. Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter III – Incident Report

Prince squinted as his troupe reached the bottom of the stairwell. The fluorescent lights were harsh on his eyes after they’d wandered around in the dark for hours. He scrunched up his face in revulsion as the smell hit him. The filming area reeked of stale sweat and perhaps other fluids that he preferred not to think about.

“There,” Isaiah whispered to Prince, pointing at the elevator on the other end of the corridor. “Hold onto Stephanie and walk in front of us.”

Prince took Stephanie gently by the hand and followed Isaiah down the corridor.

They were alone at first, but Prince was startled as a door next to them opened. A pair of mobsters shoved a girl into the hall with nothing but a worn-out blanket around her shoulders. She stared through Prince with dead eyes as the mafiosos forced her onwards.

The two groups didn’t speak as they passed each other, but one of the mafiosos brushed a lock of dark hair out of Stephanie’s face and leered at her with yellowed teeth as he strolled by. Prince’s hand tightened around his crowbar until his knuckles were white.

Time felt like it was passing agonizingly slowly as they walked. Prince’s face darkened as they passed another door. He could hear the sounds of a struggle inside. A scream pierced the air. He came to a halt as he unwillingly recalled the purge he’d endured. He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced back at Isaiah. His face was concealed, but Prince could tell the mobster was stone-faced from his eyes. So was his family, staring back at him through their masks. The sight was unnerving, even though he knew it was only them.

“Keep going. There’s nothing you can do for her now,” whispered Isaiah.

Prince turned stiffly and continued on their path.

There were no more disturbances. They made it to the elevator without any resistance. Isaiah punched in the access code and pressed the button for the detention level.

Helios sighed deeply as the doors closed. “That was unpleasant.”

Nobody was in the mood to respond.

Isaiah spoke up as they neared their destination floor. “We have to get the Warden to open the entrance for us. There’s a one-way exit in the holding area that leads to the west edge. No one is allowed to use it, but the cams are off, so who cares. Just let me do the talking. And one more thing: the audio feed is still running, so keep quiet until we get out of there,” he told everyone as the elevator reopened. The mafioso took the lead this time.

The Warden was resting his elbow on the desk with his face in his palm. He’d been looking at his reflection in his dimmed computer screen as he styled his fiery orange mohawk with a free hand, but his lidded eyes followed Isaiah as he approached. He stared at the newcomers, uninterested in initiating a conversation with them.

“Markus. New inmate,” Isaiah said.

Markus turned his eyes to the computer on his table. “The boss didn’t tell me of any new arrivals today,” he replied flatly.

“We haven’t notified her about this one yet. You’re the first to know. Good for you. Open up,” demanded Isaiah.

The Warden lifted his head from his hand. He narrowed his eyes again, now in skepticism instead of tiredness. Prince put himself in front of Hadrian, hopefully obscuring the boy’s splint. “Why did a little girl need five people escorting her here?”

“What the hell am I being interrogated for? This is the rest of my patrol group. We just got back. Quit wasting my time and open the fucking door,” Isaiah snapped.

Markus sighed. “Whatever. Cell 047,” he told the mobster as he stood up. The guy was even taller than Isaiah, Prince realized, and he was wide enough that he had to leave his too-small tuxedo jacket unbuttoned. He entered a string of numbers into the keypad next to the entrance. The blast door screeched open. “Get out of my face,” said the Warden as he waved them inside.

Prince looked straight ahead. Whatever was behind all the steel doors lining the passageway, he didn’t want to see. Markus closed the entrance behind them as they walked away.

Everyone did as Isaiah had said and kept silent until they reached the exit. A lone spider was busy spinning a web on the doorframe. Tough luck for him. The door squealed as Isaiah opened it and beckoned everyone through.

“Alright, we’re in the clear,” he said after he shut the exit.

The concrete corridor ahead looked strangely sterile at first, but a thin film of dust had settled on the ground upon closer inspection. Nobody had been here in a while.

“Where are we?” Prince asked.

Isaiah took off his mask and looked back at him as they made their way through the hall. “It used to be the chem sector when Larry was in charge. Miss Gearwise decommissioned it after she took over. She’s more interested in biotech and cybernetics, apparently. Most of her stuff is on the bottom floor, though.”

Prince peered through the windowpanes in the doors as Isaiah let Twado out of the duffel bag. Glassware and machinery were set up on the tables as if the users had left in a hurry. Binders full of notes and documents were still open on the desks. Even the lights were still on.

“Looks like she couldn’t wait to shut this place down,” Prince remarked.

Isaiah didn’t look at him now. He just shrugged.

Prince wished the mafioso would talk a little more, because the silence here was even more eerie than it had been in the derelict upper levels. The laboratory looked too clean and orderly. It felt wrong for it to be deserted. He was almost glad when the blindingly white walls gave way to rough stone and steel floors as they moved yet deeper into the base.

They were surrounded by a mess of tubing and shafts as they walked. There were no walls here at all to hide the plumbing and ventilation systems.

“Where are we now?” Prince wondered out loud.

“Still in the chem lab. Larry wasn’t one for frills. He didn’t bother with dressing the place up when he expanded it downwards,” Isaiah answered.

“You know a lot about that guy. Didn’t you only know him for a few days before we took him out?” Hadrian remarked. Isaiah shot him a glare over his shoulder, but not before Monica elbowed her little brother. The last thing they needed was to piss their guide off, even if he might be keeping secrets.

The mobster’s dark irises looked black in the low lighting. “You know I hate it when people ask too many questions, right? I hear the other mafiosos talking about him sometimes, is all,” he claimed as he turned away.

Maybe it was for the best that he and the rest of the group didn’t talk much. The sound of dripping water and air flowing through the vents suited Prince just fine now, but after a while, his ears picked up something that was neither of those. Thumping? It wasn’t quite loud enough for him to tell.

“Do you guys hear that?”

Isaiah paused. “Hear what?”

They all listened, but whatever noise Prince heard had stopped now. “Nevermind. It’s gone.”

Isaiah pursed his lips in annoyance at the interruption and continued forward. Prince didn’t notice any more strange sounds, and he’d started to think he’d been imagining it until he heard it again, much louder this time. Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked up. The rusted ventilation panel above them was starting to buckle. “Get back!” Isaiah whispered harshly.

The old screws snapped apart and the vent gave way. Out tumbled a stout man in a trench coat. He grunted in discomfort as he landed in a heap in front of the group. He scrambled to his feet after he glanced up and realized he wasn’t alone, but his panic was short-lived as he beheld the bizarre caravan in front of him. They stared back, equally perplexed. The guy looked like he’d been ripped straight out of a generic mystery film.

Isaiah had pulled his mask over his face once more, but he cautiously removed it again when he saw that it wasn’t one of his own associates who had shown up. “Who the hell are you?”

The man hesitated, seemingly reluctant to reveal that, but Pete pushed his way to the front of the gathering. The stranger’s face lit up.

“Peter! It’s been too long!” he exclaimed as he slapped his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “But what are you doing here?”

Pete scribbled a few sentences on his whiteboard. Kidnapped. My nieces and nephews are trapped here as well. North exit broke down. Looking for the other one.

“The north exit malfunctioned? How odd,” the stranger pondered.

Pete turned back towards the group and wrote again.

“Detective Bradley Beans,” Prince read out loud.

Bradley snapped out of his musings. “Hm? Oh, yes, that’s me. I was assigned to spy on the mob’s activities here. I’ve been using the ventilation system to stay out of sight, but…”

He eyed the broken vent.

“Perhaps I ought to lose a few pounds. Very fortunate that I was in the west edge.” Bradley picked his fallen umbrella up from the ground. “Anyway, Pete here was a coworker of mine before he retired. Good to see you again, old man,” said the Detective, patting the old man on the back.

“Wow. How long have you been hiding here?” Prince asked.

“Almost a year. I arrived soon after the last purge. I heard all about your battle with Mr. Clockturn. Very remarkable, though I wish the national guard would have moved in a bit quicker… kids shouldn’t have to wrangle crime lords,” grumbled Bradley, shaking his head. His gaze shifted to Isaiah. “Who is your, er, companion?”

“This is Isaiah. He helped us during the purge. And now he’s helping us find our way out of here,” Prince explained.

“I see. Well, there’s no use in dallying here, then. I was actually on my way out as well. Care to lead the way, Isaiah?” Bradley invited, motioning for the mobster to go on ahead of him. He did.

Maybe he shouldn’t pry, but Prince was curious. “So… you’ve been investigating the mob? What did you see?” he asked as they walked.

The Detective’s face grew serious. “One of the reasons I was sent here was to find out what happened to Mr. Clockturn after his body was taken. I already had a hunch that Miss Gearwise had a hand in his disappearance. The evidence I’ve compiled confirmed it. He’s in here somewhere.”

Trepidation rippled through the group.

“I haven’t seen him, but I overheard the personnel in the cybernetics sector speaking of him. The papers I managed to nick suggest Miss Gearwise has been performing experiments on him, and it doesn’t seem that he’s a willing participant.”

“What kind of experiments?” Prince questioned.

Bradley’s brow was crumpled in worry. “The documents didn’t detail their nature or purpose, I’m afraid. I went looking for some that did, but I came up empty handed… Miss Gearwise has put a lot of effort into keeping her activities secret. I suspect he’s being held in the bottommost level, but it was too risky to go poking around there.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sucks to be him, but what is he? Who is making these freaks?”

Bradley opened his mouth to answer, but then he frowned, stopping himself. “It’s classified info. I assure you that law enforcement has it handled.”

There was a door in their way, but it refused to open when Isaiah put his hand on the push bar. Prince looked at the keypad next to it. “Please tell me you know the code.”

“No need for that.” Isaiah dug through his pocket for his keycard and inserted it into the side of the pad. The door unlocked with a click, and he shoved it open with unneeded force. The mobster had been quiet, but Prince observed that he was becoming more and more vexed as Bradley recounted his findings. Cops and gangsters weren’t exactly friends, of course, but he thought Isaiah’s reactions were still a little over the top.

Isaiah went ahead, but everyone else was reluctant to enter the new area. A metal bridge was suspended over a wide pool of roiling red liquid.

Prince stepped onto the crossing uncertainly. The fumes stung his eyes. “Isaiah? What is that?”

The mafioso turned around. “This is where we made the chemical we emptied into the sewers.” His shoes clanked softly against the bridge’s metal lattices as he continued across. “We’ll be fine. Just don’t fall in,” he reminded Prince. He seemed pretty sure of himself, so everybody followed.

They heard heavy footsteps approaching long before they could reach the other side. Isaiah redonned his mask. “This is the worst possible time.” He looked back at the door they’d entered from.

The Warden’s huge shadow approached. He kicked the entrance open and stepped onto the bridge, followed closely by four of his pals. “I knew you guys were up to some bullshit,” he muttered as he motioned for the other mafiosos to charge.

Markus looked like he could drop all of them on his own, but Prince knew they wouldn’t make it to the exit before their assailants reached them. His fist clenched around his weapon. He might be able to shove the big guy off the bridge if he was deft enough…

Isaiah had different plans. He jammed his crowbar through a joint in the bridge and gritted his teeth as he strained to pry the two sections apart. Realizing what the mobster was doing, Prince knelt down to help out. They jumped back as soon as they heard the rusty screws break.

Markus held out his arm to stop his cronies from going any further. The bridge section in front of him slanted dangerously towards the corrosive liquid far below.

The Warden shook his head. “Back up. I have a better idea,” he said as he ushered the other mobsters back into the hallway.

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “MOVE!” he shouted as he bolted towards the exit.

Too slow. The lock engaged right before he touched the door. He punched it in frustration. “Damn it!” he roared as an alarm bell rang through the chamber.

“Isaiah? What does that mean?” Prince asked as the hazard lights on the walls blinked on. He looked at Monica as she tapped his shoulder and saw that she was staring at the red liquid under them. It was rising. He looked up at Isaiah again.

“The doors seal automatically when someone brings the liquid level up.” Isaiah pointed at the console attached to the wall. “We have to reactivate the drawdown system, but I don’t know the passcode,” he explained hastily.

Prince’s gaze darted between Isaiah and the keypad. “Won’t your keycard work?”

“Fucking look, man! There’s no slot for the keycard here!”

Helios pushed him out of the way. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he fished a USB drive out of his sling bag and inserted it into one of the console’s ports. Prince heard him typing as fast as he could while the caustic chemicals hissed and simmered against the bridge’s supports.

“Uh, Isaiah? Aren’t the beams corrosion resistant?” Hadrian asked, his voice quivering.

Isaiah kept his eyes on the framework beneath them as it sizzled. “Yeah…? But we were never allowed to bring the liquid level this high back when the chem lab was-”

He stopped speaking abruptly as the scaffolds creaked and the bridge started to tilt. Everyone shuffled around anxiously, inching towards the locked door. Twado ran back and forth across the bridge frenetically, but there was nowhere to go.

“Quit bunching up like sardines! You guys are gonna collapse this thing faster,” Monica warned. “Helios? How much longer?”

“Chill. I almost got it,” the hacker replied as the bridge continued to waver.

Prince heard something snap below them as the console beeped and the alarms shut off. They all let out a collective sigh of relief as the liquid began receding, but the support beams were already done for. Helios was nearly flattened as everyone barreled through the exit. They heard the bridge splash into the chemicals behind them.

Markus had been watching them through the window on the other door. He slammed his fist against the wall as he saw the intruders escape before moving out of sight.

“That was a bit too close for comfort,” Bradley breathed.

Isaiah glared at him. “Yeah. It was. The vent you guys are looking for is right at the end of the tunnel.” He said, jabbing a thumb behind him. “Find the elevator yourselves. I’m outta here.”

“What? Come on, man,” Prince implored, reaching out to stop him. “At least point out the right shaft-“

The mobster shrugged him off. “No! You guys have dragged me too far into your shit,” he spat. “And Markus saw your faces, you know. He’s probably on his way to tell Miss Gearwise all about you, so get going,” he finished, waving them off. Isaiah turned away into a connecting corridor and left them alone.

Chapter IV – Interlude

The apertures of Larry’s optical sensors contracted in discomfort as the lights switched on. He heard Mary’s high heels clicking softly against the floor as she stepped into his view, a lab coat thrown over her viridian dress. The disgraced crime boss struggled in his restraints, but that hadn’t worked before, and it wasn’t working now. Mary tittered at his efforts as Larry sighed and went limp on the operating table.

“Good evening, Larry. Or morning, rather. I think it’s past midnight,” she laughed, her tone maddeningly cavalier in contrast to what she was about to do. A glower was Larry’s only response.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Mary walked out of his field of vision and opened one of the cabinets in the operating room. Larry could only listen to her preparing the necessary apparatus, her tools clinking against the steel tray. “All I’ve done is try to help you, and all I get in return is insults and vitriol.”

A few wisps of steam seeped from the ventilation slits on Larry’s face. He’d heard Mary voice her false concern for him too many times. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” he growled.

Larry heard the flames roar indignantly in Mary’s firebox. The tools on her tray rattled as she set it down on the stand next to the surgical table forcefully. She wasn’t smiling any more as she walked to the head of the table. She placed her hands on either side of him and leaned in.

“Stop behaving as if you don’t understand me, Larry. You were deactivated by a pack of children and allowed the purge to end early. You are worthless to this organization as you are. You were weak and I fixed you, whether you and your overblown ego can admit it or not,” she hissed, her breath blisteringly hot against his metallic skin. It would have been painful back when he’d still had flesh to melt… but that was a long time ago.

Larry clenched his fists at her words. His claws grated against the palms of his hands. “Overblown ego? You’re the one who painted your casing,” he spat, sneering at the Mary’s conceit.

Mary smirked, her moodiness fading as abruptly as it had appeared. “Ha! Am I vain for taking care of myself? You look like you haven’t been polished in years,” she taunted. The bright lights glinted on her pearly white coating as she stood up straight and returned to her tray of implements. “But I think that’s enough small talk.”

She reached out and loosened the buttons on his shirt. Larry snapped his metal jaws at her hand, but she pulled away before he could catch her fingers in his teeth.

He heard Mary pick up one of her tools. A mechanical buzzing filled the operating theater. He strained against his fetters again. This was the moment he’d been dreading for so long.

Mary loomed over him, the ghost of a smile on her lime green lips. The surgical lamp formed a halo of harsh fluorescent light around her as she brought the metal cutter to his chest.

Chapter V – Judgement Hall

Prince let his arm fall limply to his side as he watched Isaiah disappear around the bend. Helios patted him on the shoulder once the mobster was out of earshot. “We’ll be fine without him. I told you I know where the elevator is. Let’s go,” he said, gently urging Prince to start down the other hallway.

Helios led them now, and he walked fast. There was no telling how long they had before Markus tipped the boss off to their whereabouts. They didn’t have any trouble finding the vent, but Helios didn’t have anything to open it with. “Anyone got a screwdriver handy? I, uh, left mine in my hoodie when we got changed,” he admitted.

Bradley searched his overcoat for his screwdriver, but he gave Helios an odd look as he did. “Agent Helios? Is that you?”

The hacker’s jaw tightened. “Just get the vent open, old man.”

Prince cocked an eyebrow. “You guys know each other?”

Helios looked at Bradley disdainfully as the Detective knelt down and unscrewed the panel. “This asshole was one of the guys who arrested me a few years back. I used to be a part of Anonymous.”

Bradley’s face grew sour at the hacker’s enmity, but he ignored him.

Oblivious to the tension, Hadrian’s eyes lit up. “Whoa! You were in Anonymous? That’s cool as fuck!”

“But you work for the government now,” Prince pointed out. “How did that happen?”

“They gave me a choice when they brought me in. Work for them or go to the slammer. I think it’s pretty obvious which one I chose.”

The last screw clinked to the ground. Bradley moved the vent cover aside and gestured wordlessly for Helios to enter first.

Stephanie faltered in front of the opening, her face blank. She’d been growing quieter and quieter as they ventured further into the base, retreating into herself, but Prince didn’t know what he could do except keep her close. He crouched down to her level and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Monica and I will go in front of you, OK? Just follow us. We’ll be…”

He stopped himself. He didn’t know when they were going to be home.

“We’ll be out of here soon. I promise.”

She nodded silently. The eldest siblings went first. Stephanie slowly clambered into the duct after them.

The passage was wide enough that they didn’t have to crawl, but they were almost bent double as they wormed through the cramped shaft. Prince almost thought he could discern distant screams, but maybe it was only the air rustling in his ears as it rushed through the tunnel around them.

He followed close behind Helios, whose nose was buried in his phone, examining the map as he walked. Prince could see the rooms they were passing through the narrow slots in the vent panels. Dorms. Armories. Warehouses. Computer labs. Workshops and laboratories. He paused as they passed an office.

Monica nearly bumped into him. “Prince? What’s the hold up?” she whispered. Helios halted and glanced back to look at him quizzically as well when he heard him stop walking.

Prince peered through the ventilation slits. “It’s an office. I see Markus.”

Helios and Monica crowded in next to Prince to take a look for themselves. Markus wasn’t alone. They couldn’t make out the conversation, but the Warden was speaking to a woman noticeably taller than him. Her hair, tied into a bun, was unnaturally reflective, and so was her pale opaline skin.

“It’s the boss,” Helios murmured.

Bradley piped up from the back of the lineup, careful to keep his voice low. “We don’t have time to dawdle here, then. We’ve got to get to the elevator before they figure out where we are.”

Prince lingered for a moment longer. Mary didn’t look too pleased with whatever the Warden was telling her. She glanced towards the vent. Her emerald LED eyes met with his for a instant. Prince’s blood froze in his veins.

Mary’s eyes flitted back to Markus before he could react, though, and there was no change in her hard visage. Maybe he was mistaken. She hadn’t seen him. He told himself so, at least.

“Dude? You okay?”

Prince was brought out of his thoughts by Helios’s voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Bradley is right. Let’s hurry up,” he stammered, suddenly very eager to get moving again.

Helios didn’t delay. They weren’t far from their target now, and it wasn’t long before he spied their exit elevator from behind a vent.

“There!” he whispered, but he hesitated. “I don’t see anyone, though. Is this place always so empty?”

The hall was dark and devoid of mobsters. Nobody could answer Helios’s question, of course. Prince wished Isaiah was here to tell them whether it was shady or not. Either way, this simplified things. They didn’t have to figure out how to get out of the ventilation system without looking suspicious.

They couldn’t reach the screws from the inside of the vent, so Helios stuck his crowbar in between the wall and the panel and pried until the cover snapped open. Everyone squeezed out, but when they stood before the elevator, they saw that none of the buttons or indicators were lit. Prince pushed one. Nothing happened.

There was a shrill bout of audio feedback as the intercoms in the hall switched on. The corridor reverberated with a woman’s bitter, derisive laughter. “Don’t bother. I already disabled it. You won’t be going anywhere, boy. You and your friends have broken into my base and caused me a lot of trouble.”

Prince was too cowed to respond. Monica spoke instead.

“We didn’t break in! Your shitty door malfunctioned and trapped us inside. We don’t even want to be here. Let us leave,” Monica demanded.

“I don’t think so. After all, how many of my guards have you massacred?” Mary reminded them.

“Oh, please. You talk like these kids were the instigators,” Bradley rebuked.

“Detective Beans! I knew there was an informant in here. And now I don’t even need to hunt you down,” Mary gloated. “You came here looking for Larry, didn’t you? You can forget about that. I doubt you’ll be living long enough to see him.”

The blast door at the other end of the hallway opened up. The lights blinked on. The group realized that they weren’t as alone as they thought. They could see the silhouettes of mobsters through the windows lining the corridor, glaring at them through their uncanny purge masks.

“This should be fun,” quipped Mary. The intercom switched off with a thunk.

With no other choice, the group hesitantly made their way to the door. Heat radiated from the adjoining room, though it turned out that calling it a room was an understatement. The cavern was gigantesque. The walls on either side were thick metal. The jagged granite on the opposite side of the entrance was left unrefined, save for the wall of the control room and the mezzanine that Mary was standing upon, glowering down at them from high above. Molten lava churned below the metal platform ahead of them, linked to their door by nothing except a rickety rope bridge. Prince was reluctant to walk across. The thing didn’t look like it would hold their combined weight.

There were footsteps from their rear. The mafiosos were skulking towards them now, brandishing their weapons, compelling them forward.

They were boxed in, so Prince took a tentative step onto the bridge. The boards creaked as he walked onto the platform. The bridge gave way and fell into the lava after everyone had crossed—one of the mobsters had severed the ropes with his knife behind them. Prince looked up at Mary, wondering what her plan was. He couldn’t see much more than her glowing eyes in the darkness overhead.

“Ah, we meet at last… though it seems that some of your allies have deserted you,” Mary laughed. Her voice was shrill and tinny compared to Larry’s baritone, but it echoed through the cave all the same.

They glanced around at each other. She was right. Prince hadn’t been paying attention, but Helios and Uncle Pete had not followed them in.

“No matter. My subordinates will deal with them,” she continued. With that out of the way, Mary looked the gathering up and down as she leaned on her crowbar. “You’re aware there were firearms in the supply depots, right? I know you passed a few of those on your way here,” she told them, quirking an eyebrow.

Prince wasn’t too sad that they’d missed the guns—the rounds would probably ricochet right off Mary’s casing anyway—but Mary’s jeering was making him more annoyed than afraid. “Did you bring us in here for a fight or to talk shit at us?”

Mary narrowed her eyes at his provocation. She beckoned one of the operatives inside the control room. Markus came out and handed her violin to her. She placed it beneath her chin and drew her crowbar across the strings, producing a poignant melody, and Prince immediately heard burbling from the pipeline at the edge of the platform. There was a thin scraping noise as the valve’s handwheel turned on its own.

Everyone retreated towards the other end of the platform as lava spilled out of the pipe, but it streamed until they were backed up to the very edge. Any closer and the heat would start to sear them.

However, as they teetered on the edge, the valve screeched shut and the lava flow spluttered out. The group glanced around at each other, both relieved and confused.

There was a discordant twang Mary’s music faltered. Bewilderment crossed her sharp features. It appeared that she didn’t know what was happening, either. She started to play again after a moment, but the valve made a stubborn scraping noise, refusing to reopen.

Mary scowled deeply. She played a different tune this time. The lava started to drain, but their respite was short-lived as she thrust her violin back into Markus’s hands and jumped down from the mezzanine. There was a resounding bang as her high heels met steel, sending a tremor across the platform.

“Let’s dance.”

Chapter VI – Gearwise

Clang. Whirr. Prince had heard that once before, but now he was ready for it as Mary bolted at him, buzzsaws unsheathed. The blades whined in his ear as he rolled out of the way. He managed to keep all his blood inside him this time, at least for the moment.

Prince didn’t waste time in retaliating, lunging at Mary with his crowbar as she retracted her saws. She didn’t look as tough as Larry. He thought he might be able to take her down the old-fashioned way, but he was quickly disillusioned as his weapon bounced off of her casing harmlessly, barely even chipping her paint.

Mary responded in kind, and her blow sent him off the edge of the platform, but he managed to grab onto the rim, narrowly avoiding a fiery death. Winded, he wheezed and gasp for air as he gingerly dragged himself back to safety… well, relative safety. His ribs were aching like hell.

Hadrian started towards the automaton, but Bradley held an arm out to stop him. “Don’t be reckless. Your arm is injured. Stay out of this and keep your sister safe,” the Detective told him, nodding at Stephanie. The girl held onto her brother’s leg tightly.

Twado rushed at Mary instead, gnashing his teeth, evidently furious at her for striking Prince. She must not have wanted her gilded crowbar to touch the mangy thing, because her lip curled in disgust as she delivered a swift kick to his side. A few of the kids winced as they heard a crack. The dog yelped as he slid across the platform and lay still. Bradley hurried over to check on him.

The dog had diverted Mary’s attention. Maybe Monica had the chance to turn her wind-up key. She tried to edge around the automaton while she was occupied with Twado and reached up to grab it, but she’d barely touched her fingertip to the key before Mary turned abruptly and snatched Monica by the wrist in a crushing grip. She flung the girl at Prince as if she were as light as a ragdoll, and Prince had only just climbed back onto the platform when Monica collided with him, sending both of them off the edge again.

Prince caught the rim of the stage again. Monica could only grab hold of the cuff of Prince’s jeans. He tried to pull himself up, but it was impossible this time with the added weight.

Bradley stood up from where Twado was—the dog seemed fine now—and ran towards them as they dangled from the rim, but Mary sauntered into his path.

Mary opened her mouth, probably to expound another snide remark, but she was cut off before she got so much as a word out. Bradley wasted no time in striking out with his umbrella. Prince thought the guy was about to get knocked out cold, but he must have been even stronger than he looked, because Mary staggered marginally as she blocked the hit with her crowbar.

“That’s another charge of resisting arrest, Miss Gearwise,” said Bradley through gritted teeth. She just laughed wryly.

While Bradley engaged the automaton, Twado bounded to the edge of the platform and grabbed Prince’s sleeve with his teeth, slowly and steadily towing him and Monica up.

Bradley tried to bring his umbrella down onto Mary’s head, but she caught it in her hand. The Detective tried to yank it out of her grasp. She held on.

He recognized too late that he had no way to parry her crowbar now. Mary swung for Bradley’s skull. He reacted quick and tried to evade the blow, but it still clipped the side of his head, knocking his hat askew. He stumbled backwards and clutched his temple, dazed.

Mary grinned viciously and raised her weapon to finish him off, but the look was wiped off her face as someone wrenched her wind-up key. She hissed in displeasure and froze up for a moment as her gears seized, but her disorientation didn’t last long.

The automaton spun around with her smirk replaced with a look of acute loathing. She lashed out and raked Prince across the face with her sharp fingernails before he could respond, leaving several long, bloody gashes behind. A guttural snarl escaped from Mary’s lips as she did, as if it was gravely insulting that the boy would even try to lay his filthy fingers on her key.

She didn’t have time to assault Prince any further, though. Bradley had already come to his senses. He adjusted his hat. Mary glanced over her shoulder as she heard the Detective’s footsteps on the steel stage. She saw movement from the corner of her mechanical eye. Monica and Twado were flanking her from both sides. Even the injured Hadrian had grown tired of being sidelined and was now advancing towards Mary as well.

The automaton whirled around and feinted at Bradley, just to keep him away. She must have realized that at least one of them would get their hands on her wind-up key if she tried to fight them all at once. The mechanisms in Mary’s legs clicked as they engaged. She leapt onto one of the tall stone pillars surrounding the platform, perching on it gracefully.

The group stared up at her. Prince spread his arms in a challenge. “Get the fuck back down here, you bitch!” he roared, his face still bleeding. Mary said nothing. She simply smirked and licked a few drops of blood off her manicured nails.

Monica pulled some gauze out of her first aid kit. Prince irritably tried to shrug her off—“I’m fine”—but she managed to press it onto his face and stem the flow of blood.

Bradley pointed at Mary with his umbrella. “Mary Gearwise, I have reason to believe that you were involved in the disappearance of Larry Clockturn. I demand you reveal his whereabouts at once!”

Mary threw her head back and cackled. “You want to know what happened to Larry? Fine. I’ll show you.” She looked over at the control room and nodded at Markus. He pulled a lever on one of the panels.

There was a harsh grinding sound as the wall to their left slowly parted. They hadn’t noticed it when they came in here, but it was actually an enormous sliding gate.

Everyone backed away as it opened. It might have been some sort of depot, though it was hard to tell though the darkness. The light from a pair of LED eyes pierced through the shadows.

Big ones.

Raucous metallic scraping filled the air as the goliath activated and hauled itself from the ground, exposed gears and levers ticking loudly. Its rugged plating caught the orange glow of the lava beneath.

“What the Hell is that?” cried Prince as the clockwork behemoth took a step forward, making the entire cavern quake.

“It’s the new and improved Larry Clockturn, of course,” Mary declared. Markus emerged from the control room and tossed her violin to her. She started to play again. At the sound of her music, the aperture of the machine’s eye dilated and blazed brightly. Its gaze zeroed in on Prince.

Bradley understood what was happening first. “Prince! Get out of the way!” he hollered.

Crimson light flooded the room as Larry discharged his laser. Prince dived out of the way just in time, but he could still feel the scorching heat against his back as the beam passed him by.

It melted through the steel flooring like butter. The scaffolds holding it up groaned as they started to bend. Prince scrambled to his feet and stared up at Larry as his laser fizzled out. The automaton’s optical receptors contracted to the size of pinpricks and darted around frantically. He seemed almost afraid, but the look vanished almost as soon as it had shown up.

Prince didn’t have time to think about what that meant. The two halves of the stage were dipping away from each other.

The group was separated. Twado leapt across the gap before it became too wide and grabbed the back of Stephanie’s shirt in his mouth, who was slipping down the incline, and lugged her over to Prince and Hadrian. The eldest brother pulled Stephanie into his arms as their half of the platform swayed dangerously above the lava.

Bradley and Monica were trapped on the other side. They looked across at them helplessly. The columns holding them up had thankfully stopped buckling, but there was nowhere to run.

Mary grinned in morbid anticipation as Larry prepared to bisect the platform a second time. His eye dilated again. However, the LED flickered as his laser failed to charge up all the way. Bradley retreated as the beam struck the ground in front of him, but it wasn’t hot enough to melt through the metal.

Mary’s smile faded slightly. “My apologies… I thought I had already disabled his free will. He appears to be resisting my commands. How cute,” she crooned as she drew her crowbar over the strings of her instrument once more.

Larry’s components creaked and juddered as he tried to move, but his gears had locked up. His eye flashed on and off, refusing to even begin charging this time.

Now Mary was scowling. She glared into the control room. Markus shrugged and shook his head at her. She turned towards Larry again just in time to see a masked mafioso clamber onto his shoulder. Mary’s eyes widened in outrage as he thrust his crowbar through a gap in the giant automaton’s casing and triggered his emergency shutdown mechanism.

Chapter VII – AWOL

“Helios.”

Helios frowned. He looked around, but there was no one else in the hallway with him and his troupe. Just the mobsters staring at them through the windows.

“Helios!” the voice hissed again. Oh. It was coming from behind him. Helios slowed his pace and glanced back discreetly, lagging behind the rest of the group. Isaiah was peeking out of the vent they’d come in here from. He beckoned the hacker over.

Helios peered around again. The mobsters seemed to be fixated on the others. He slipped away and reentered the vent before anyone noticed.

“Isaiah? I thought you were done with us,” Helios whispered.

“I changed my mind. We have to move,” Isaiah replied. Helios trailed him cautiously.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“Mary called almost everyone in the base to the primary control room. Her lab is pretty much unguarded, so I decided to snoop around a little bit. I found Larry. Deactivated. Chassis ripped wide open,” Isaiah recounted, knitting his brow as he recalled the scene. “I found the blueprints for his new body.”

“New body? What are you saying?”

“I’m getting to that part! Mary cut his heart out. She made him a new body that she could control. The thing is giant. She’s using his heart as the energy source, and the heart is him, so his original body isn’t gonna wake up without it. She’s going to use the new one on your pals. They have no chance.”

“And we’re just letting them walk into the trap?”

“I need them to stall her, and she was going to lock the base down and have her lackeys kill them anyway if they didn’t show up. I have a plan. Larry’s new body has computerized parts, not just clockwork ones. It helps her control him, but it also means he can be hacked. I’m taking you to the lab. There’s a console there that she used to test him out. It’s got the blueprints in it and everything. I think you can use it to access his network, but you have to deactivate the lava pipeline system first… we don’t want your buddies getting their legs burnt to a crisp before they even see the big guy. I need you to get him to stay still long enough for me to reach him and trip his e-stop. Got it?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Good.” Isaiah stopped in front of the spot where a ventilation panel used to be, but he must have broken it open already while he’d been sneaking around. He climbed out and showed Helios the console. “This is the place. Try to do this quietly. There are still a couple guards outside the door,” he whispered to Helios. The mobster thrust a two-way radio into his hands. “Use that to tell me when Larry is immobilized.”

Helios nodded, but Isaiah was already reentering the vent, leaving him on his own. The hacker cracked his knuckles and got to work.

Chapter VIII – System Reboot

Prince watched as Larry shut down and toppled backwards. It reminded the boy of when he’d beaten the automaton in the sewers, but the ensuing impact was much, much louder this time when he hit the ground.

Mary threw her violin at Markus. “Deal with that traitor!” she thundered at him. The Warden reentered the control room and sent some of the operators away. They ran through the door, heading for Larry’s depot. The masked mobster was standing on Larry’s chest now, trying to pry one of the plates open. It had to be Isaiah.

“What are you doing, man? Mind getting us off of this platform?” Prince called out.

Isaiah glanced up at him and held up a finger. Wait.

Prince turned around as a mechanical hum filled the cave. He’d expected Mary to jump down and confront the group, but she was still glowering down at them from the stone pillar. The noise had to be coming from her.

The temperature in the formerly stifling cavern was dropping fast. Prince looked up as a raindrop hit his face. Were those clouds?

“She’s got a weather machine built into her!” Bradley realized as lightning struck the ground right in front of him. An indoor tempest was brewing.

Isaiah got Larry’s chassis open and heaved the metal plate away until the gap was large enough for him to fit inside. His gaze scanned the internal hardware until he spotted the automaton’s clockwork heart. It was strangely amusing how such a comparatively small gadget had been powering a giant robot. He lowered himself through the gears and circuitry until it was within reach and gingerly disconnected the tubes and cables holding it in place. The ticking of the mechanism’s gears slowed down as he removed it. An iridescent mystery liquid sloshed around inside the heart’s windowed ventricles as Isaiah climbed back out of the chassis.

The lava sizzled as rain pattered against it. Prince could feel the electricity in the air before lightning hit the spot where he’d been standing moments before. “Dude! What’s the situation?” he yelled at Isaiah.

Isaiah was too absorbed in his task to respond. He’d already dragged Larry’s real body into the depot before he’d gone to fetch Helios, but he didn’t have a lot of time. He was screwed if the other mafiosos made it here before he had Larry operational. Isaiah sprinted to the corner where he’d left the automaton with the heart in his hands and stooped down to set it back in Larry’s chest cavity. It clicked into place.

The mobster stuck his hand under his suit and felt around for the brazing torch and rod he’d brought with him. He fumbled with the hose for a second before he inserted it into the fuel cylinders on the ground and lit the torch, carefully soldering Larry’s tubes and pipes back onto his heart.

A gale was beginning to pick up. Bradley rolled out of the way as a fork of lightning targeted him again. The wind buffeted him, but perhaps that was a good thing.

The Detective opened his umbrella. The motor inside it began to rumble. He held it up and let a gust carry him towards Mary. She took a swipe at him with her crowbar as he neared, but he veered out of the way and landed behind her. He grabbed her key and twisted it counterclockwise a second time before Mary could do anything about it.

Mary winced as she turned and swung her crowbar wide, striking Bradley in the side. He grunted in discomfort and tumbled from the pillar as the vent cover above Mary popped off and smacked against her head. Pete jumped through and landed on her, casting her down from the pillar as well before he reentered the ventilation shaft and vanished again.

Bradley drifted to the floor with his umbrella and gently touched his feet to the ground next to Monica. Mary hit the ground on the other end of the platform with a crash. She groaned in discomfort as she heaved herself to her feet, but her grousing quickly became a snarl as she stalked towards the Detective.

Pete soon emerged from a vent in the depot. He hastily scrawled something across his whiteboard as he rushed to Isaiah: HURRY THEY ARE ALMOST HERE

Larry’s golden eyes blinked on as Isaiah made the last connection. He sat up immediately and wrapped his huge hand around the mobster’s throat. Isaiah dropped his brazing torch to pry the automaton’s fingers away.

“Get your hands off of me, you asshole! I’m trying to help you!” Isaiah snapped.

Larry’s eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised to hear Isaiah’s voice coming from behind that mask. The automaton glanced down at his chassis, still wide open. He reluctantly released Isaiah and lay down again. “Get on with it, then,” he spat, still glaring.

Isaiah picked up the sheet of metal that Mary had cleaved away from Larry’s casing and placed it over his chest. He picked up the torch again and slowly ran it along the seams. The automaton tensed up at the searing heat, but he held still.

Isaiah had barely finished when Larry shoved the mobster away and got to his feet. He’d secured the plate just in time, too, because the mafiosos that Markus had sent came charging through the depot doors as Larry buttoned up his shirt and picked up his crowbar.

The mafiosos skidded to a standstill when they saw the reactivated Larry standing before them, tall and terrible. He swung his crowbar into the closest one’s abdomen with quite a bit more strength than necessary, burying the curved end in his innards. There was a nauseating squelch and a strangled yelp from the mobster. A section of his viscera came out with Larry’s crowbar as the automaton pulled it free. The others turned tail and ran back the way they’d came as their comrade collapsed into a convulsing heap, too afraid to even try to fight him.

Isaiah made a disgusted noise. “Ugh. That was overkill,” he mumbled as he kicked the whimpering mafioso into the lava. Larry paid him no mind. He turned to the platform. Mary wasn’t the only one who could leap high. He cleared the gap easily and landed right behind her.

The platform shook as his shoes met the steel platform. The scaffolds finally buckled, sending his end of the stage plunging. He was prepared for that. Mary wasn’t. She lost her balance as the platform sank slowly into the molten rock.

Larry grabbed his tormentor with both hands and hurled her into the lava.

Chapter IX – Exit Path

The mafiosos could only watch as Mary disappeared into the molten rock. Markus stared in disbelief until there was a stir in the control room. The mobsters began quarrelling… then they drew weapons on each other. A brawl broke out.

They were fighting amongst themselves. Prince realized as a splatter of blood hit the windowpane that Larry’s old goons must have wanted him back in charge.

Bradley unfurled his umbrella again before the gale storm died down completely. He took Monica’s hand. They both glided into the depot.

The Detective grabbed hold of the metal plate that Isaiah had removed from the behemoth earlier. “Help me move this thing,” he called out to the others.

They lugged the plate towards the edge of the pit and pushed it outwards until it met Prince’s half of the platform. It wobbled precariously, but they held it down as Prince crossed the improvised bridge with Stephanie in his arms. Hadrian and Twado followed from behind. Larry jumped back into the depot as well, landing disconcertingly close to the group. The kids shrank away as Bradley stepped in front of them protectively and pointed at the automaton. Larry raised an artificial eyebrow.

“Larry Clockturn, you are under arrest for-”

Pete bonked the Detective on the head with his whiteboard.

“Ow. What? He’s wanted for hundreds of felonies.”

The elevator is still disabled. We need his help finding our way out, Pete wrote.

“Yeah, I know a different exit,” Larry muttered, but he nonetheless looked mildly annoyed when the group started following him.

They trailed behind the crime boss—well, ex-crime boss—hesitantly. “We still need to get Helios,” Isaiah mentioned. Before they reached the door, however, they heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Larry turned back towards the platform.

Mary was clawing her way back up, her pearlescent façade burnt away by the lava, revealing her brassy gold casing. Patches of paint still clung to her, scorched black. She glanced back at Larry warily as she climbed high enough to jump back onto the pillar, then onto the mezzanine. The mobsters had already fled the control room, but she ran inside and disappeared from sight. Fury flared in Larry’s golden eyes as he barreled through the depot doors to pursue her.

Everyone ran out the doorway after him. They were back in the corridor with the disabled elevator, but Larry ran in a different direction.

“Where are you going?” Prince yelled. The automaton didn’t reply.

“There’s an old mineshaft leading to the surface in this direction,” Isaiah answered instead. “It’s always been sealed, but Mary must’ve opened it to escape. There’s no other way.”

They came upon the control room where Isaiah had left Helios, but Larry didn’t wait up as they pushed the doors open to find him.

“Helios, we have to…”

Isaiah trailed off. The room was empty.

“Helios?” the mobster called out. There was no reply. He tried contacting him with his radio, but the hacker didn’t respond to that either.

“We have to move before we lose Larry. Maybe Helios escaped already. Come on,” Bradley said as he ran back outside.

They caught up with Larry as he arrived at the gate to the mine. The blast doors were already open. Mary was on the other side of the decaying tunnel, hovering over Helios, watching him as he knelt in front of the keypad next to the elevator and desperately tried to crack the activation code. She seized the hacker in a chokehold and turned towards the group as she heard Larry’s heavy footsteps approaching.

“Come any closer and he dies!” Mary screeched at them. Larry didn’t seem too worried about that, but Bradley grabbed his arm to stop him from advancing.

“Let him go, Miss Gearwise. We just want to leave this place,” Bradley tried to reason.

Mary laughed, her eyes wide and manic. “Leave? You’re the ones who intruded upon my base in the first place. Slaughtered dozens of my agents. Do you know how much time I spent working on Larry? You brats have ruined everything,” she hissed as she tightened her grip around Helios’s throat. He scrabbled uselessly as her arm, eyes bulging as Mary crushed his windpipe.

Prince gritted his teeth. Mary’s words sent his thoughts racing. The gang of mobsters they’d encountered in the upper levels, even though there was no surveillance there. The door that had malfunctioned and trapped them. The lightning storm outside that had driven them here in the first place, even though the weather forecast had predicted clear skies. Mary’s weather machine…

“No. You lured us in here,” Prince murmured.

Mary narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“That’s why you knew we were here when the cameras were offline. You caused that storm outside. You took that tree down with your lightning. You had that barricade set up on the trail, so we’d come here for shelter,” Prince spoke louder. “You made the door short circuit with your lightning instead of shutting it remotely so we wouldn’t get suspicious…  and rigged those pipes to blow and cut us off in the upper levels, so we’d walk right into those mobsters. You knew we were here the whole time. You set us up!” he finished, jabbing an accusing finger at Mary.

Mary’s lips slowly curved into a smirk as Prince spoke. “Clever boy.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“I needed someone to test my creation on, and you are the ones who deactivated Larry. I couldn’t leave you alive,” Mary stated. Helios wheezed for breath as she loosened her grip ever so slightly.

Bradley shook his head. “Rubbish. I know for a fact you never cared for Larry. It was the Headmaster who ordered their deaths, wasn’t it?”

Mary’s eyelid twitched at the mention of her superior. She ignored the Detective. “Larry, tell me the elevator’s code and I’ll let Helios go,” she said as she nodded at the dilapidated cage elevator and tightened her stranglehold on the young man.

Larry sneered and tried to press forward. Bradley held him back. The automaton’s gears clanked in frustration as he lifted his crowbar to beat the Detective away, but Isaiah elbowed his way to the forefront of the group before a fight could break out. “How about you think about someone other than your fucking self for once?” the mobster whispered harshly as he shook Larry’s shoulder. The automaton griped inaudibly and hardly budged as Isaiah jostled him, but he got the point.

“0625,” he begrudgingly told Mary.

Helios gasped for air as Mary finally removed one arm from his neck and punched the code into the keypad. The rusty elevator doors squealed as they parted. He tried to break away from her grasp, but he yelped as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him into the elevator after her. “Oh, no, you’re coming with me,” Mary muttered venomously.

“Hey! You said you’d let him go!” Prince yelled angrily from the other side of the tunnel.

Mary just flashed a grin at him and waved at him as the doors shut. The elevator creaked and rumbled up the mineshaft.

She was gone.

Epilogue

There was nothing to do except wait in morose silence for the elevator to return underground. Prince kept starting at the entrance to the mine, worried that some of Mary’s loyalists might show up, but none did.

The mood relaxed a little bit as Twado stood on his hindquarters and pawed Larry’s legs, whining for attention. He’d been too preoccupied to pay attention earlier, but now the automaton reached down and ruffled the fur on the dog’s head. “Glad to see you too, Twado.”

“He knows you?” Prince asked, surprised.

“He was my guard dog when I ran this place. But he looks like Mary had him thrown outside,” he muttered, shaking his head at Twado’s grubby coat.

The elevator doors squeaked open as the carriage arrived. Prince picked up Helios’s sunglasses from the floor. One of the lenses was cracked. He slipped them in his pocket as the elevator closed and started to carry everyone to the surface. Maybe he’d get to return them eventually if the hacker was still alive.

Isaiah went to sit on an old crate, but Larry pushed him aside. “Is that coal? Finally,” said the automaton as he ripped the lid off and shoved a handful of the stuff into his jaws. The kids watched with profound bewilderment.

“What? You didn’t think I was actually spring powered, did you?” he chuckled. The wind-up key on his back rotated ever so slightly. “This is just a kill switch. I have a steam engine.”

I thought your heart was your energy supply? wrote Pete.

There was a whoosh as the fuel caught aflame in Larry’s firebox. “It’s for emergencies. When I run out of real fuel.”

“It seemed like it was working fine before,” Prince remarked.

“You people ask too many damn questions.”

“No kidding,” Isaiah muttered.

Bradley answered instead. “The heart works too well. It will grind his gears to dust if he relies on it forever.” Larry scowled at him, but the Detective didn’t seem phased. “What are you going to do now?”

Larry was caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d retake control of the base. Why didn’t you?” Bradley added.

The automaton laughed bitterly. “Give me a break. Do you have any idea what they’ve been doing to me down here? They can fuck themselves.”

“You’re just now realizing that? You were just fine with their shit before you were the one getting tortured,” Isaiah scoffed, but his temper dissolved into a sulk as soon as Larry shot him a look.

“OK, time for you guys to tell us what your problem is. You said you joined the mafia during the last purge,” Prince cut in, pointing a finger at Isaiah, “but you keep acting like you’ve been here a lot longer than that. What’s the deal?”

Neither Larry nor Isaiah answered, but Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them a few times. “Isaiah is your son?” he surmised.

Isaiah grimaced as the Detective said it. Larry punched the wall next to Bradley’s head, rocking the entire carriage and leaving a dent in the metal. Stephanie clung to Prince. Twado barked and scurried around as the lonely light bulb flickered and swayed on its wire above them. Bradley was looking pissed, but he didn’t retaliate—this was neither the time nor place for a fight, and Isaiah surely felt the same, because he walked between them and stared Larry down until he backed off.

“Guess that was a yes,” said Hadrian. Monica thumped him on the side of the head.

The mood was somehow even more sullen now. Larry had withdrawn to the corner of the elevator. He looked lost in his thoughts, but they couldn’t stay silent forever.

“What do we do?” Prince asked.

“I would call in a raid on this base right now, but we’d have to find some cell signal for that,” Bradley said.

“It’s not a good time,” Larry argued. “The next purge is in eight days.”

Hadrian groaned. “The next purge? You guys do that every year?”

“Shut it. I’m not finished. We need to get somewhere safe. You’re all in even more danger than last time if the Headmaster put a hit on you.”

That name again. “Who the hell is the Headmaster?” Prince questioned.

“He’s the one pulling the strings in all this. It was him who turned Larry and Mary into these,” Bradley responded, motioning to the automaton. “And those two aren’t the only ones who have been subjected to the procedure. I don’t suppose you were privy to his ultimate plans, were you?” he asked Larry.

 Larry scowled at the question, but there was a hint of melancholy on his metallic features. “No, I wasn’t. But that’s not important right now. I know where a safehouse is,” he said as the elevator finally reached the surface. Everyone stepped out as the sun peeked over the horizon. The storm had died out into a light sprinkling of rain.

A couple of miscreants crouched in the dense trees and vegetation, concealed from view. One of them observed the new arrivals through his binoculars as they exited the carriage.

“Well, what do ya know?” said one of them.

“What? Luke, what do you see?”

“Mr. Clockturn made it out… but he looks to be defecting. What a shame, what a shame,” replied Luke, though he didn’t sound very saddened with that.

Brooke laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Are we gonna take him down or what?”

“Don’t be rash, Brooke. He’s not alone. The meddlers are with him, and there’s gonna be a better opportunity soon. The next purge is coming right up.” the boy said as he stood up. Brooke snatched his binoculars and took a look at the group for herself.

“Come on. Those shrimps have nothing! We can take them,” she protested.

Luke shook his head and started walking away. “No. Last thing we need is to blow our first major assignment.”

Brooke grumbled in discontent, but she acquiesced and followed her brother deeper into the woods.

“Fine. Let them think they’re safe… for now.”

[zimithrus1]

Oooh, could I get 🕯️, 🛼 (your latest fic if you don't have a WIP you want to talk about rn, I guess?) , 🏜️, ☁️, and 🧩 for the truth or dare ask game, please? 💗

You sure absolutely can!! (Sorry for the late response I've finally just had enough time to answer this on my computer!)

🕯

On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing?

Ooh, I'd give that a solid 9 actually! Most of the time when I'm editing, I just enjoy reading through my fic again while finding little spelling and grammar errors. Most of the time I'll say to myself 'Okay, I'm gonna write tonight, for sure', and then I end up doing a little bit of editing and then I just start reading and yeah, needless to say, I edit more than I write sometimes 😅

⛸

Describe your latest WIP with five emojis

☁💸⛰🐺👿

🏜

What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

Oooh, that's hard to say. I love and appreciate and freak out over every comment I get! But if I had to choose, I think the ones that make me super excited and engaged are the ones that mention their favorite parts or lines that stood out to them, coupled with some cute/fun emojis! Those do stand out more in my head and are usually the first ones I think of when I think about certain comments 💖

☁

What made you choose your username?

Time for a little bit of backstory here as I've used this username since I was 8. Picture it - the internet in the 00's, online games are popular af, one of those being a little something called Runescape. My older brother gets me into said game, as he and his friends played it any chance there was an internet connection (because back then internet was more of a luxury than it was a necessity). It comes time to name my green-haired warrior girl. I can't think of shit. So my brother helps me come up with a name. 'How about Zimithrus?' And I thought that name was so freaking cool, I was all [8-year-old equivalent of]: 'Fuck yeah!!' And any time I made an account anywhere else (Toontown, Webkinz, Quizilla, etc.) I used that name. Now it's like, my second name lmao. I love being called Zim or Zimi or any other variant. 💚

🧩

What will make you click away from a fanfic immediately?

Big blocks of text. Every time, without fail. No paragraph breaks, no separate lines when characters start speaking, just a massive wall of text. Can't do it. Even if it has my favorite characters and my favorite ships and all of my favorite tropes and genres, it could tick every single box but if I click in and see a big ass wall of text I'm gone 👋😆

Thank you so much for the ask @isleofair!! It was a blast answering them all!! 💕💚❤

[grimescum-2]

quick collection of head canons for funsies :o3 i dont know if i've mentioned any of these before or not but oh well

- i think anderson would be the kind of guy to absolutely melt into any physical affection. like, imagine this big tall dude leaning down so u can hold his big ol face in yr hands

- i am going to preach about kittycoded anderson until the day i die. it literally makes so much sense he and alucard fight like cats and dogs

- anderson prays before he eats anything. if you eat over at his house u best believe he wants you to join him (he respects if you don't do that but why would u not want to? literally free opportunity to hold his hand) sourced from my christian ass family

- "jesus christ" "DON'T use the lords name in vain"

- walter tries to be modest with physical affection so he wouldn't really know what to do at first . i think he'd def prefer verbal affection, praise, stuff like that

- walter is naturally particular about details. perfectionist that won't stop until he gets it right, includes basic tasks like cleaning and cooking

- walter is homophobic /j /j /one of my friends said he looked racist and homophobic in the first anime

- although not really a music person, i think walter's fave genre would be swing or jazz. he was born back then right??$? i did the math at some point but i forgot

- i've said this before but I'll say it again for this post, walter def puts a lot of care into his appearance. probably has some kind of skincare routine. the bitch

- walter enjoys watching old black and white movies in his free time. def one of those old people who complain about modern technology and the newer generation. much less obnoxious about it though

- if you gave walter a phone and told him to open settings he would explode. if he called u successfully without breaking it he'd be all like "i did it :D!! i pressed ONE button!!" then proceeds to accidentally call you all the time

- walter takes forever to type, signs his text messages and though he uses proper grammar he has occasional spelling errors because he has no clue what he's doing

- seras uses emojis often + a lot of exclamation marks, occasional run on sentence. if integra texts at all it's always perfectly grammatically correct or, like, 1-2 sentences. if not a singular word. i'm weird abt how alucard would text because i really think he'd say shit like lol lmao w basic grammar (punctuation and shit) but also ehhh??

- "have you seen my monocle i cant find it" "its on your face" "Oh"

- walter hates being publicly embarrassed. gets red in the face really quickly

- i dont think alucard has a favorite genre of music but still enjoys seeing what people come up with. i do think he'd have a preference for alternative or experimental music

- alucard is the epitome of adhd in my mind because i imagine he's always bored and up to fucking something. he'll come into integra's room and stand around like an idiot until he realizes he forgot what he came there for and leaves. talks and laughs to himself like a WEIRDO

- being alive for so long i think alucard would've tried everything at least once. now hes bored of it all and doesn't really have any hobbies aside from stalking people

- alucard also melts into any physical affection but i think he'd be the kinda guy to physically grab your arm and put it around him or something

- i dont know if he would exactly but imo he'd at least think about putting a bunch of random shit in his mouth. imagine u give him a flower or something and he leans down and eats it

[fluffytriceratops]

Dating Headcannons - Raphael

Note: If there are any grammar or spelling errors, please ignore them as I am far too lazy to edit this, and I really don't care. B) Someone asked for Raph next- you ask you shall receive! And again, not a specific version, just kinda all of them smushed into one. You may visualize this Raphael as any Raphael. Idk why I struggled with writing this one so much, I just did lmao. Raph's usually pretty easy for me to write for too. Mikey is next! (honestly, saved the best for last in my personal opinion, his headcannons are by far my favorite!) May or may not make a Casey one. If someone wants it, I probably will, if not- I still might but idk--- that may be too much work for me lol. LASTLY- Raph's moodboard is my favorite so far- I relate to it so much haha.(No I didn't make it, found it on google-) Thanks for reading! <3

Warnings: mature/sexual themes, nsfw mentions, mature language,

- He is a dom, do not test him he will dominate the absolute fuck out of you. If you're really insistent on topping him, or taking control, he will let you do so, but only for a little while before he takes control again. Likes it when you're top but prefers to see you're on bottom.

- 100% into couple workouts or training. And even if you didn't like working out, he'd still like it if you watched/were in the room with him.

- A sucker for physical contact. Enjoys PDA, he doesn't care if you kiss/touch in front of his brother's/others.

- Wants your relationship to be private, he doesn't want to share you with his brothers. He'll get super jealous if you hang out with them too much. Raph's super protective over you, but he wouldn't control you. He respects you, he just has a hard time not being around you.

- Needs reassuring. He is very insecure of himself and never feels like he's good enough. Especially when it comes to you.

- Takes his frustration and anger out with sex, even if it doesn't have anything to do with you. This means he can be a little rough and selfish in bed, but he can also be gentle and sweet too. Sex after care would be a lot of cuddles and kisses. He'd treat you like a queen.

- Secretly enjoys romance movies, though he pretends like he doesn't. Plus he gives the most amusing critiques.

- Raphael can be a bit of a dick/inconsiderate sometimes. But he will always apologize to you once he realizes he's done something wrong/hurt you. He get's flustered when apologizing, sometimes it's super cute.

-  He loves to watch you try on clothes/see your outfits. Mini fashion show only for him? Hell yes.

- He'd probably be into spanking and maybe even a little degrading. Wouldn't mind be called Daddy but he LOVES it when you call him by his name. Especially during the sexy sexy times or accompanied by an I love you.

- Prefers phone calls and likes to talk mostly as night because he's usually with you during the day when you both have time.

- More independent, if you're busy than he'll leave you alone.

- Hates nicknames, but he'd have one for you he'd use in private. He'd call you babe/baby in front of other's but that's about it.

- Definitely does those push-ups where you're laying underneath him and every time he comes down you reward him with a kiss. ;)

- He'd love for you to sit on top of his shell while he's doing push-ups too. You can read or do your own thing, and this way he gets to spend more time with you. Raph totally plays it off cool by asking you to help him, "i need the challenge" and all that bullshit, but he really just wants to spend time with you. He just doesn't want to see clingy. Plus he's the cool macho brother, he has a reputation to keep up.

- loves your bum. Big, smol, flat, etc. He loves them all. Like I mentioned before, very into spanking but he never would want to hurt you. So I dont think he'd do it too hard, to the point where it HURTS, yknow? Likes to catch you off guard with it too. If you bend over you're practically asking for it.

[hnychn]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 [𝐈𝐈𝐈]

sypnosis : life with your five lovers has been more than fulfilling, but when you're paired with a student from general studies for a project, your quintet seems a little less full

word count : 4000+

warnings : mutual pining, gender neutral reader, relationship insecurities, bakugo tries but. . .it doesn't go as well as he planned, grammar errors and spelling errors, it's . . . a long one, a bit rushed at the end so uhh pls don't mind that :)

parts : [ 𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈 ] [ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 ]

a/n : so sorry for the long wait LMAO- i know i said my bokuto fic would be coming out today but uhhh ahaha my depression hit me full force this weekend and i didn't even look at the dock because i was too busy sleeping, but uhh enjoy this :D

↩︎ back to student masterlist | main mha masterlist

- WELCOME TO PART THREE sorry for the log wait 😭 life has been kicking my ass but we're not here to hear me complain, we're here for the tea

- so, it's a couple months after you joined the bakusquad and their relationship. and let me tell you, it has been nothing but amazing. 😩 your days are never quiet and they're always filled with some sort of excitement and love.

- you kaminari and mina often get into trouble for leaving the dorms late at night because you want snacks and there's nothing in the kitchens. you become kirishima's pillow, don't matter about your size or whatever, you are his pillow and you better not argue 🔫 sero always puts on some type of bachata or reggaeton or some spanish song and dances with you in his dorms. and bakugo is your go to person to cook with and just generally annoy or prank since it's so easy to get a reaction out of him.

- and you couldn't have asked for a better relationship. you all are so communicative and talk about your feelings often and how you're doing. every saturday or sunday, you all go to a dorm (usually it's bakugo's cause it's the cleanest) and have a huge cuddle pile and talk about your mental states, how you're doing, what you have problems with, etc etc.

- like damn ok i see you with the mentally and emotionally stable relationship 🤪🤪

- it's so refreshing too because sometimes you'll have a tough week and you jsut need to let it all out, and you can in the comfort of bakugo's dorm and you know none of them will judge you because they're all so open about their love for you (and vise versa)

- anyways, yeah y'all got the best relationship

- you never thought about anyone else in a romantic sense because the squad took up nearly all of the space in your heart. but when you teacher announced one day the general studies kids would be coming in to have a joint project to create gadgets for the hero course students, you had no idea your life would suddenly be turned upsidedown.

- you were paired with a guy named shinsou. he looked friendly enough and returned the wave you sent him with a little surprise as he made his way to the open seat next to you. he seemed surprised when you started a small conversation but he talked to you in a quiet soothing voice. he seemed nice enough and you figured the project would be a breeze since he seemed so nice and offered to meet up over the weekend to start up some ideas for the project.

- you agreed and the two of you met up that lunch period in the library to pre-draft some ideas and get to know each other more.

"i'm surprised you don't mind being seen with me."

his sudden comment took you by surprise as you looked up from your paper with messily drawn gadgets and chicken scratch writing to look up at him, "what do you mean?"

it was true you had never seen him before or even heard of him, but his hesitance to talk to you and open up to you made you feel as though you should.

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and looked away shyly, "so you really haven't heard anything about me, have you?"

he looked almost guilty to bring it up, his gaze falling to the table in front of him as be played with a strand of his hair.

you shook your head. you never really payed attention to gossip around school, your head always too high up in the clouds to care about rumors and gossip (bakugo often scolded you for being such an airhead and ignorant to your surroundings, but you knew he was just worried about something happening to you). plus, to you, gossip was nearly never right and more often made up and fictitious.

shinsou refused to look up at you, "well. . .i'm known throughout the school as a. . ." he looked hesitant to continue but before you could reassure him he didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to, he continued, "well, a villain."

he prised his lips as if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, and all you could do was tilt your head. shinsou didn't seem like a bad person - or a 'villain' as he had said. on the way to the library he held open doors for you and helped you carry some of your books to your locker and even bought you a drink you wanted buy but were a bit short of change on.

"do you think you are?"

"what?" shinsou looked at you for the first time since he brought up the topic.

"do you think you're a villain?" he shuffled slightly in his seat and looked away again from your intense stare. he felt like you were looking straight into his soul from how strongly you were looking into his eyes, he wasn't sure if you had even blinked in the last minute.

shinsou thought back to all the times he's been called a villain or a criminal. it was always unwarranted, a passing comment that seemed like no big deal to others but shattered his heart into smaller and smaller pieces. but never once had he ever thought he was a villain - a monster.

if anything, he used those comments as encouragement to become a hero, to be better than those who always thought he would turn to a life of crime. so, "no... i don't think i'm a villain."

"well, that's that."

shinsou could only stare at you, your smile brighter than any star he'd ever seen, so full of hope and encouragement shinsou felt like he could take on the world. he looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, a shy smile pulling at his lips and a weird feeling blossoming in his chest. how curious. . .

- so yeah, a new friendship 🤪 the two of you started to spend a lot of free time together for the project. you would often meet up during lunches or free time between classes to work some more on the project, all the while getting to know each other in depth. you learned many things about shinsou and spilled many of your own secrets, you laughed together over old childhood stories, and played animal crossing on the rooftop during lunch, your project discarded and forgotten beside you.

- your sudden absence didn't go unnoticed by your lovers, and they grew curious to your whereabouts when you would blow them off for the fifth time that week to "work on your project". now, don't get me wrong, they had conplete trust in you and knew you would never cheat, but they were just curious as to what - or who - was taking up so much of your time.

- so, they did the smartest thing, and followed you. after blowing them off for the sixth time, they decided to follow you to your destination. mina and kaminari tried to be inconspicuous and wear disguises, but the fake mustache, black glasses (indoors, might i add) and hat weren't all too discreet as they thought.

- they followed you through every turn and weave you took and hid behind a corner when you stopped at a vending machine to get your favourite drink. but what surprised them the most was you also bought a coffee. bakugo was most surprised you even thought about even touching the can of caffine because he remembered you telling him you would get terrible caffine rushes that would make you dizzy if you drank coffee.

- but, as you finally reached the rooftop and made your way to a hunched over figure in the corner, it all made sense.

- they all saw how effortlessly you and shinsou acted around each other. they could see the soft looks he would send you when you weren't looking and the way his hand would hover over yours for a split second too long before snapping away as if you were made of lava. but surprisingly, they didn't feel any sort of jealousy or anger, it felt like a piece of them had returned they didn't even know was missing. the sort of feeling that walks through the door unexpectedly but it's wholesomely welcomed.

- the "oh, there you are, welcome back" type of feeling. they were happy you had found someone that made you feel comfortable, arguably more comfortable than you had been with them so far because truthfully, while you had felt welcomed and appreciated in the relationship, it still felt like you were an outsider. the five of them had inside jokes before you came and didn't get them when they came up, the five of them had habits special to each other that inadvertently excluded you. and while they never meant to hurt you (god knows that's the last thing they ever wanted to do), they had. but you knew that wasn't their intention so you held no malitious feelings towards them (not that you think you'd ever could).

- but the way you and shinsou so effortlessly opened up to each other, shared intimate details and secrets with each other - it warmed their hearts. so, bakugo grabbed them all by the back of their shirts and dragged them away, mumbling about giving the two of you space. there was a fond look in his eyes as he looked at the two of you he would be teased about later but would deny.

- it was undeniable bakugo held the softest spot for you. he tried as best as he could to include you in their inside jokes and habits but he was. . well . . . bakugo 🧍🏽‍♀️

- words aren't necessarily his strong suit and he could only hope his smaller actions let you know you were as loved and cherished as any of them there. and you knew, you caught on a little after bakugo had a little "secret talk" with the group (that wasn't really secret at all, he grabbed them all by their shirts and dragged them to a secluded spot while you distracted on your phone) and they all started to explain their jokes and include you in their habits.

- anyways, back to you and shinsou. 🤪 he was aware you were in a ployamorous relationship with the bakusquad and he's heard the way you talk about them and the soft airy tone of your voice and the starry look in your eyes; and he didn't want to get in between that. the last thing he ever wanted was to ruin your relationship for his own selfish reasons.

- so for the time being, he would be okay with watching you from afar, the sweetness of your love so close for him to taste; yet too far for him to savour.

- as more and more times passed, the bakusquad began to notice the lingering looks you would give shinsou when you passed him in the halls and how he would always be waiting for you outside of your class with your favourite drink before leaving you to go to lunch while he went off and . . . well, you weren't sure what he did during his free time, but he never brought it up so you never figured to ask.

- when you fell asleep the next time you all had a cuddle session in bakugo's room, they all talked about it. talked about your obvious feelings for each other and the possibility of including shinsou in their relationship. they spent hours talking about it and still talked about it even when the moon vanished over the horizon and the sun rose. and, in not very smart fashion, bakugo was tasked to confronting shinsou about their conclusion.

- which - almost as if there were an author behind all of this - didn't go as well as any of them planned.

it was perfect, really. almost as if the universe had been listening to their conversation and aligned itself perfectly for this very moment.

you woke up that morning with a terrible stomach ache and chose to stay back in your dorm after bakugo made you a bowl of soup and threatened you to take your medicine. his classes ended a little earlier than usual and, sending his lover's a nod, made his way over to your class, where, lo and behold, shinsou was standing near the door, the familiar brand of your favourite drink in one hand and his own cold coffee in the other.

bakugo wasn't sure what he was going to say when he reached shinsou. he opted to just speak from the heart over rehearsing lines with the others like they had wanted, besides, what kind of lover would be be if he couldn't even do this for you? but, what he didn't take into consideration, was his emotional constipation and tsundere attidute.

"hey, eye bags!" bakugo called out.

shinsou nearly jumped out of his skin at bakugo's sudden loud voice. he looked over with the same eyes of indifference he normally had, but bakugo could see the slight far in them. not at his brash attitude (shinsou could never be afriad of bakugo and confronting him before the sports fesitval was a perfect example of that) but the fear of ruining your relationship with the bakusquad.

shinsou nodded at bakugo when he got close enough. bakugo stood in front of him, his hands still shoved into the pockets of his pants, "they're sick."

it was a simple enough statement but shinsou blinked, "what?"

"y/n." bakugo stated and rolled his eyes as if the answer had been written on his forehead (and it basically had, shinsou was just a bit shocked at his appearance), "they're sick and mina's staying back with them in their dorm."

shinsou rubbed the back of his neck, "oh."

there was an awkward silence as the two boys stood in the vacant hallway. bakugo didn't know what to say and shinsou wasn't sure if he should leave or go visit you for their lunch break.

"i'll go drop this off to them-"

"no." bakugo practically growled, "i'll drop it off. go get eat your lunch or i'll make your face an eye bag."

shinsou flushed a bit in embarrassment. he was overstepping, of course he was. for a minute, having you all to himself for nearly a week straight made him forget about the relationship you were in and this was a smack of reality. you weren't his. you were in a relationship with others, other people who could give you nearly double what he could - everything he couldn't.

handing bakugo the drink, shinsou stalked away to the cafeteria, his cheeks still a light shade of pink. bakugo sighed and knew he most likely made things worse, and he came there originally to make things right.

but fate will work itself out. and what will be, will be.

- so... maybe sending bakugo wasn't the best idea ... 🧍🏽‍♀️

- because now, shinsou started avoiding you. when the two for you worked on your projects together, he would remain mostly silent and only input his opinion when he thought of an idea or needed help putting something together. you had no idea why and you honestly felt a little hurt that he ignored you as easily as breathing.

- you brought this up to your lovers on your weekly cuddle session, knowing they would have brought up your downpour attitude either way. what you didn't notice as your face was burried in denki's sweater were the glares they all were throwing at bakugo.

- "yeah, i wonder what happened..." sero smiled, though obviously strained, as he pet your head and told you shinsou was probably just going through something.

- and it was obvious you were hurt that shinsou had suddenly stopped talking to you because honestly it was kind of hard for you to make friends. a lot of people assumed you thought you were higher than everyone else because you were dating five students from the top hero course, but that obviously is far from the truth.

- anyways, a long time goes by and the two of you still haven't rekindled anything and the squad is getting a bit frustrated because hello??? join our cult lover circle ?????

- so the squad comes up with another solution and this time they don't send bakugo to collect shinsou

- they learned their mistake last time.

- anyways

- so sero goes and gets shinsou and tells him you need him for a little last touch of the project since it was near the due date and you wanted to make sure it was perfect. and shinsou agrees to meet up with you and follows sero.

- sero takes him into an empty classroom and it's pitch black. the windows have been covered with tape and all the lights are off. before he could ask what the hell was going on, the door slams shut and the lights suddenly turn on and shinsou's blinded for a moment.

- and he's met with a very interesting sight.

- mina, kaminari, and kirishima are standing in front of him with sunglasses and hats on, their arms are crossed and they have a blank look on their faces (though he can tell kaminari is about to burst into laughter and nearly does but kirishima jabs him in his side.)

- "uhh..."

- "shut up, eye bags." bakugo calls from behind him. he's leaning against the door with his arms crossed and an obviously pissed off look on his face.

- sero is just standing next to him with a 'sorry pal' kind of smile.

- "what is-"

- "what are your intentions with, y/n?" kaminari shouted suddenly as he slammed his hand on a nearby desk.

- "denki- no." mina pushed him back lightly, "that's not what-"

- "did you not listen last night, sparky?" bakugo rolled his eyes and scoffed lightly.

- kaminari shyly scratched his cheek, "i might have fellen asleep-"

- "he did." sero confirmed, "he drooled on me and everything.

- "I do not drool!!"

- "yes you do, it was like a waterfall, 'ki. "

- "no i don't, right kiri?"

- "well.. only a few drops.."

- "WHAT?! and none of you told me?!"

- "well, y/n kind of made us promise not to tell..."

- "SPEAKING OF Y/N," mina interjected into the conversation, her fingers rubbing at her temples as she wondered when she became the rational one, that was bakugo's job, "why don't we stick to the script, boys."

- kirishima slung an arm over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "sorry, princess."

- "right." sero turned to shinsou and crossed his arms, "you have feelings for them don't you?"

- shinsou tensed. his mind was still trying to comprehend the conversation that happened just a few seconds ago and processing the fact that kaminari drools in his sleep. he wasn't sure how to respond.

- of course he had feelings for you, any rational person who came into contact with you would catch feelings. it was part of your natural charm that seemed to effortlessly draw people in and never let them go. in a matter of minutes, you had simultaneously become his best friend and his closest confidant. often at night he cursed himself for catching feelings for you when things were perfect just the way they were.

- but shinsou couldn't help it. you had treated him like a normal person and weren't apprehensive about his quirk. you gave him a taste of normalcy in his world of anxieties and judgement, and he craved more and more the more time he spent with you.

- so dispte wanting to desparately scream 'yes, i do love her' at the top of his lungs, he looked down at the ground, "no. . . i . . i don't."

- "liar."

- bakugo seethed behind him.

- shoving himself off the wall he was leaning on, bakugo walked closer and closer to shinsou as he spoke, "don't lie. we all see the way you look at them, the way your stupid face lights up with a small smile when they're with you or the airy chuckle you give when they do one of those stupid dances when they make food and-"

- "OK OK I GET IT!" shinsou snapped. mina jumped slightly in kirishima's arms and shinsou sent her a small apologetic look, "you know! I'm in love with them! i've been. . ." he trailed off before collapsing into a chair behind him, his head hanging back and staring into the bright flourescent lights hanging from the ceiling.

- "i've been trying to distance myself from them, to make getting over them easier."

- "they've been hurting, y'know."

- shinsou groaned and hid his face in his hands, "i know. you think i don't see the looks they give me when i avoid them in the halls? it hurts knowing i'm the reason they're in pain."

- "so why are you doing it?"

- "because they have you guys," shinsou sighed as it if we're the most obvious thing in the world, "you all could love them a lot more than i ever could alone. plus, they're so happy with you, i couldn't be the reason to disturb that."

- "you gotta be fucking kidding me." bakugo growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

- kaminari snorted, "i think i just got deja vu."

- "you could say that again," mina sighed, "i'm heading back to the dorms, this is giving me a headache."

- with his arm still slung over her shoulder, kirishima agreed, "yeah, not sure how we didn't see this from the beginning. i'll walk you back, princess."

- shinsou only stared blankly as mina and kirishima left the room with kaminari in tow, complaining about getting some math work done. never in his life did he feel as confused as he did now

- lost. mans was lost..

- someone get him a map and help him please

- they acted as if they hadn't been the ones to literally kidnap him

- only to nonchalantly walk out the door?????

- sero's voice snapped him back to the remaining two people in the room, "you two really are a match made in heaven." sero smiled at him and shinsou felt head rise in his cheeks, whether it be from embarassment or something else, he didn't know.

- "i'll see you two around" and then he left, leaving shinsou alone with bakugo, who had yet to realease the bridge of his nose from his pinch.

- "you're both a pair of dumbasses."

- "i'm offended-"

- "y/n said the same fucking thing when we confronted them."

- shinsou stayed silent.

- "they felt like their presence would ruin the routine we had set a long time ago when we first started our relationship. . . sound familiar?"

- shinsou rubbed the back of his neck and opened his mouth to speak, but bakugo interrupted.

- "shut up, eye bags, i'm not finished."

- "i dIdNt eVEn sAy aNyTHiNg"

- "sure there were some things we had to adjust to include them in our schedule and a whole new bundle of emotions to incorporate into our lives; but the while point of a relationship is to open up slowly and learn to trust the ones you love. and eventually, we all learned to trust them the same way they learned to trust us; but trust isn't something you can learn over night. it's gradual."

- bakugo sighed, how in the hell did he get stuck in this situation again. at the very least no one got injured this time, "what I'm trying to say is, if y/n makes you happy, then we're all willing to let you in our relationship and put our trust in you.

- "will you put your trust in us?"

- how dramatic ˙ ͜ʟ˙

- so

- :) shinsou decides, fuck it. i deserve the good things in life, and he puts his trust in the squad the same way they all put their trust in him.

- and they decided it was a good time to surprise you too and kill two birds with one stone :)

- so you walk in to bakugo's dorm after a long day of school. you were returning from turning in your project with shinsou, and while the teacher had given you many compliments and basically secured your A, you still felt a bit sad knowing it would be the last time you would see shinsou since your schedules didn't collide and you had ended on a . . . confusing note.

- so you were just looking to cuddle with your lovers on a Friday night and wallow away in your sadness.

- when you walked in the group had been piled in their natural spots on bakugo's bed. mina was giggling with kaminari as they scrolled through tiktok, bakugo was reading a book you had reccomend to him a while a go, sero and kirishima were softly play fighting as they laughed and chuckled.

- everything was as it should be

- until you got to where your spot usually was, cradled between bakugo's warm and firm chest and mina's plush thighs and stomach, and it was occupied by someone else.

- everyone stopped what they were doing, as they watched a smile pull at your lips when you recognised the disheveled pruple hair lazily sprawled in your spot. everyone watched with bated breath as they waited for your reaction and small smiles of their own shining through as they watched your interaction.

- you lifted your hand and smacked shinsou's knee that had been raised up slightly as one of his arms lay behind his head and the other fiddled with a bracelet around mina's wrist, and his lips pulled into a lazy smirk of his own as he watched you.

- "get up, fat head, you're in my spot."

- his smirk only grew.

- "do something about it, hero."

see my pinned post to join my taglist (^ム^)

[scoups4lyfe]

Hello I am translation anon(which is kinda of funny since i didn't translated anything but thanks for the nickname) and I had a small theory(i think you can call that?) where Tamaki(or maybe Aguillera in future episodes) started working at the bathhouse and end up enjoying working there. So in the end of the series Tamaki or Aguillera were to take care of the bathhouse(not necessarily inheriting just taking care for the igarashi parents) while Ikki would be able to take care of himself and follow his dream of playing soccer. (sorry for the bad grammar and the confusing post you don't need to answer and my english is pretty bad).

YOOO???

AYEEE????

Aguilera and Tamaki bath house babysitters so Ikki can live his life..... aiiiiiaiiaiaiaiii

I'd loooove that bro,, but also my, G

Ikki has such a long way to go before he'd be able to accept that :'))

My guy really tied all of his self-worth to how well he can take care of his family ,,,,,:'0

So if they took over and everyone was like 'Okay, bYEEE' I think he'd have a mental breakdown. (At least where he's at currently) I know I put this in my analysis posts starting HERE ; but since Ikki's a 'parentified child' he's learned to suppress his own identity in order to be the main pillar of support for his family, all the while thinking

"maybe if I silence myself, maybe if I put myself last, they'll notice all of me and love me as I am"

but that never happened (hoochow) and since Ikki's role in the family (Filling in for the absentee-father spot; yeah the dad isn't 'absent' but no one really puts him in the 'father position'....lol)

So Ikki as of rn would have a high likelihood (if he wasn't needed at the bathhouse anymore lol) to see this as abandonment -- and I would not doubt in my mind that the next place he'd search for companionship, comfort, 'home' would probably be a toxic relationship where he's back in his caregiving role :')))

and WHATTT???? bruhhh your english is fine, yo

ngl wouldn't have even known you weren't a native speaker until I read your last sentence about it being a confusing post hahahaha. I didn't see anything weird or wrong grammar wise? But also its like 4am and I'm like -7 braincells rn so idk english all blurs together after a certain point

(forgive any spelling errors or sentences that don't make a LICK of sense. my sleep-drived mind literally doesn't see sh#t and I don't proofread lmaOOO)

BUT ALSOOOOOO---

Dawg, english fluency (imo) is a myth. Americans (idk about the other English speaking homies lol) can literally say whatever they want no matter how grammatically incorrect or nonsensical--

but if its said with the confidence of a King, ppl are just like 'yeah, that tracks'

I kno cause I type nonsense every day. I also speak nonsense. And honestly its a miracle anyone understands me lmaooo. Kinda like how with French (not that I'm fluent in French in anything <33)

I forgot how to say "what" (lmao pourquoi) in french, so instead when my friend asked me something I responded with

"Quand"

But I said it dead-serious, and we laughed for like 15 minutes about it right after LOL

Anyways Translation-anon, unless its hieroglyphs I'll read and respond to the posts :33.

I worked at an ESL center for a bit during college, so you wouldn't bELIEVE how manY fcvKING engLIsH paPErS I had to help edit

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[my-autistic-things]

Guess who's making a "how to manage dealing with a massive list of edits" post instead of working on said edits! Me!

Ok so this has taken me FOREVER to really figure out and implement in my life so I thought I'd make a post about it. This is how I deal with getting edits back after sending in a paper (specifically my thesis proposals) to my mentor.

Step 1. Open the document.

This is the absolute hardest step. No seriously. It is. You get the email back, you see the attachment with their initials at the end of the doc name, you know there's edits in there, the email says "here you go! Good work!" That day, ASAP, download that attachment and open it briefly, to scan just how terrifying this task will be.

Step 2. Close it and cry. (Tears are optional but the soul crushing feeling of being on your 5th round of edits is not).

It's okay, deal with it tomorrow. Seriously, go work on something else while you emotionally recover.

Step 3. Mentally prepare yourself to do the edits.

Put it on your to do list for tomorrow. Then when you don't do it, put it on the next day. And the next day. Even when you know it's impossible to get to, put it on there because the stress will build and you'll eventually get to it and Not forget it exists (vvvvv important).

Step 4a. Actually start your edits by opening the doc.

Don't set out like you're going to do everything in one sitting. Open the document with the intention of Starting, not doing. This is a mental battle. Yes battle. Having a good strategy will trump any "smarts" or writing ability you have.

Step 4b. Get out a notebook to write down what you have to do.

If you have do a split screen and can write in a separate document, go ahead, but I found that the absolute only way I can make progress is if I fullscreen my doc and have a notebook and pencil to write stuff down. Now you have 1) doc open, 2) notebook in front of you. Yes these are considered a whole ass step bc they are.

Step 5. Go through and accept all the edits and write down things to do as they come up.

Skip that "read your edits first!" bullshit, you won't, you'll just get stressed, then you gotta reread it all over when you actually start editing. Dive right into dipping your toe in. DO NOT start fully editing. Look at each revision and decide if it's a Quick Fix (i.e. click "accept change" in Word) or a Task. If it's a Quick Fix, go ahead and do it. If it's a Task, even if it's just revising a singular sentence, write it in your notebook. Don't worry about an order/priority/anything, just write everything down. If you're doc is longer than a few pages (mine is 26 so...yeah) write down the page number along with the Task.

Step 6. Organize your Tasks.

Now you have gone through your whole doc and there's no little spelling errors, grammar mistakes, or simple edits to make. And most importantly, you have a list of bigger edits to do, start to group the Tasks. This is when it starts to get super individualized (to you, your paper, and your mood). I start with going through and marking with a line anything I am in the mood for, can do, or should do today (or first, and by first I mean "now" vs "ehhhh later").

Step 7a. Go through your marked Tasks and make more marks.

Only focusing on the initially marked Tasks, start to group them into stuff you can do together. For me, this is any simple info that needs to be inputted or sentences that need editing. My dash next to these Tasks gets turned into plus mark. Note this is the simplest edits I will need to make. You can also designate the initial dash to be its own grouping, but it should naturally end up like that at the end.

Step 7b. Go through marked Tasks again and do the same thing with a different grouping.

Relooking at my dashed Tasks, excluding my + Tasks, I make more groupings. Now it's more time consuming stuff like finding more resources, or rereading sources to be able to accurately edit the sentence. This new group now get more lines to be an asterisk!

Step 7c. Make even more marks!

Can your Tasks be further grouped??? Probably! If you have a short paper, maybe you only have like two groupings, but maybe you have like 5. Who knows! Get creative with your marks! The Tasks I'm designating as last/a lot of work and comprehension are an asterisk with a circle around them. If it's been a few weeks since you asked for edits, you probably will need to work A LOT harder on paragraph and key sentence revisions if you out those first than if you put them after you've been immersed in your topic for a couple hours.

Step 7d-z. Keep making groupings depending how many Tasks you have. I'd suggest keeping it to 2-5 Tasks per group so it's manageable but not excessive. For this particular round of edits, I have 5 groups and that's perfect.

Step 8. Find the easiest/quickest group and do all those Tasks.

My first grouping I made of sentence edits will be the easiest I think, so I'll do that first! If you're motivated and inspired to do a harder group, go for it! But again, do something that will allow you to start really working without being overwhelmed.

Step 9. Cross off all the First Group Tasks you've done!

Yes this is its own step! Cross them all off! You did a good job! Erase them! Get a Sharpie and black that line out of existence! Yay!

Step 10-?. Keep doing the Tasks in each group until you're out of groups and Tasks!

Step 11-?. Cross off the groups and Tasks! Seeing your progress visually makes a big difference! You got this!

Step 12. Read over any non-task comments your teacher/mentor has made and/or your entire paper. Make sure everything makes sense!

Step 13. Save the doc with the date you finished your edits (or fudge it and say sorry forgot to send it to you lol) and send it back to your teacher/mentor (if applicable; if you only get one round and it's not a proposal or something then you'd just submit it). In your email, briefly go over what you did. This is when grouping tasks really comes in handy because I can reference "oh yeah all these edits were x type of edits" and I can say "I accepted all your in-text edits and made the sentence changes you suggested. Additionally, I added abc sources and rearranged the order of the paragraphs specified." This also avoids your mentor re-reading everything and giving you MORE edits on everything (bc they will; this round my mentor is editing his own words from past sentence edits at various places lol) and just focusing on the key changes you made and need feedback on.

Step 14. Take a nap! Seriously! Reward yourself for doing such a Big Thing and take a break! Don't immediately go onto the next assignment, make sure your brain separates *chunk of edits* from *other simpler assignments* so it isn't mentally a whole block of *work*.

I hope this helps somewhat??? Or someone can reference this when coming up with a way to tackle feedback that works for them. I'm starting grad school next year (hopefully) which will actually be a reduction in long-term research projects lmao but I will be having more Giant papers that will receive feedback. Having a system, or knowing options is so incredibly helpful for me because when I read what other people do I can be like "nope not doing that" and it can help narrow down what would work for me. Most importantly, just break up your work into a lot of different sections! It helps with (poor) executive functioning, motivation, and brings it out visually so you can mentally tackle what you're doing instead of "ahhh ~lots of edits~"

[kewltie]

Hello! I stumbled across your short stories recently on ao3. And I have to say, you are a gifted storyteller. I don't mean to be rude here, and forgive me if I am overstepping my boundaries, but have you ever thought of getting someone to beta your work? Although your stories themselves are well thought out and creative, I think if you had a beta they could catch little mistakes (grammar, spelling) to make your works more polished and even more amazing!

hi anon!!!

i thought a lot about how i can formulate a reply to this ask so it doesn’t sound 1) unappreciative 2) rude af 3) or that i don’t care bc i can see you were very careful and concern about upsetting me and i really do appreciate you going out of your way to give me advice!!! that’s very kind of you, thank you!!!! but honestly getting a beta is not a priority to me. it’s actually something i rarely or at all consider and not bc i dont recognized my own weakness (grammar is my BIGGEST WEAKNESS IN MY WRITING) but mainly it’s bc i dont have time and patience to have a beta reader. 

my work schedule is hectic and sporadic at best plus i have school so i find time in the weirdest hours to write. this mean writing into the late morning at 3-5am and occasionally pulling an all nighter to finish a fic or im writing just before work (like literally i HAVE been tardy so many times to work BC IM POSTING A FIC RIGHT THE FUCK NOW). when i finish something i immediately do a quick read through for errors but when you read something a hundred times before it’s hard to see it with fresh eyes before it go live. and i always post it right away just after i finished it bc i want to get it out of my life (lmao). SO yea i can’t imagine having a beta reader at all when im pretty much writing and pushing it out live as i go. also bc writing is a solo grind for me bc any problem i run into and anything i can’t figure out i just grind the fuck out of it until i solve it bc of my inability to ask for help and i am just socially awkward and terribly shy with ppl to ya know approach them about it. 

and my whole history with the english language is uh terrible (i get really sensitive when ppl point out im not a native speaker) bc it’s my fav subject (next to history!!) but during school i moved from esl classes to english honors and then back to els again constantly bc i love talking about theme, nuance, and breaking down the books we were assigned but IM SO TERRIBLE at getting my thought across in essay format and my grammar was so atrocious that i get c/d often bc i never care about writing or learn how to do it. IT’S THE STORY that matter to me more which is why i read a ton of shit and when you said im a gifted storyteller that made my day bc i loooooooooooooove telling stories the most (it’s the core of who i am) and writing is the consequence of that not bc i uh actually love writing from the beginning (i may love writing but not THEN). i had so many stories to tell but how do i tell it??? YOU WRITE IT ofc. so yea, i write only bc i have stories i want to put down and i spent years and years running away from it bc i always been weak at the most basic grammar and syntax that make up the bare bones of the english language and my fear kept me from writing, from telling the stories i want to tell. 

in the end it took kpop fandom and A DUDE NAME LEE DONGHAE to finally kicked that fear in the ass and i started to write. and i told myself back six (??) years ago that i would only write for myself and not for anything/anyone else so yea im aware of my weakness but im not looking to like impress anyone or stand out with my writing bc in the end if that’s not what i want than i dont really want to pursue it. writing is a hobby and it’s hobby that uh constantly stress me out (lol) so i really dont want add anything else to on top of that. like i understand having a beta reader would be nice to catch my mistakes and make it more readable for everyone (though i do try to do my best with proofreading but IM SO BAD AT IT) but im not really looking for self improvement on that front and my self-esteem is too fragile for me to trust anyone with it (i get hurt really, REALLY easily so i try not to put myself out there as possible) lol /o\. since 99% of my writing is just a hobby so i dont really care what other ppl think unless i really FUCKED up on something content wise but if im writing for a fest/exchange/fandom event thing im more careful about it and i think i would get a beta reader just bc im writing for someone else or for the fandom to consume like this writing bkdk fest i signed up for. i think im going to get a beta reader for it… but we’lll see if i chicken out or not lol. 

ANYWAY tl;dr i really do appreciate your advice!!!!! but i can’t commit to a beta reader right now bc of time, energy, self-esteem issue, and weird af schedule but i’ll keep that in mind for more serious future projects. thank you!!!!!