#like you can see the kid has her mind elsewhere entirely

[rhysuje]

that vine is somehow always in my head.

Happy birthday to our precious Monkey! 👊🐒👒🎉 05.05.

(obviously Shanks is behind the camera, I can just hear him shouting excitedly)

https://ko-fi.com/rhysuje

[kimarii-00]

Regrets and Punishments (2)

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he really did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language, guns/shooting, blood, violence, suggestive scenes (?), eventual happy ending

❥Word Count: 4.8k (2k words more than the last one ;))

❥Part 2/2

PART 1

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AN: I did not expect all the support for the first part, thank you guys!! I hope this last part was worth all the hype! Enjoy!!

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“(Name),” Kelly begins, “I’m so sorry I–”

“What the hell do they even want with her? She’s a fucking child. Four! Four fucking years old,” As angry as you were right now, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, “I can’t… What if they hurt my baby?”

“They’re probably going to use her as some sort of backup in case their plan with Mike’s wife goes south…”

In all honesty, you think you had a hunch on why they took Demi. Because he’s her father… They must’ve done their research…

You’re surprised Armando hasn’t pressed you more by now about Demi. He must’ve had questions because last time he checked, you didn’t have a kid, so from his perspective, in the years he was gone you either must’ve hooked up with some guy and had his kid, or the passionate night you two shared before he left must’ve really paid off…

“(Name) I swear, we’re not going to let anything happen to Demi,” Kelly said in an attempt to sooth your motherly insticts. You felt nausious but you appreciated that you weren’t in this alone. Kelly had always been there for you, especially when the father of your child left and you found out you were pregnant with his kid a week later. She was there for you when nobody was. She had helped you through depressive episodes so you wouldn’t stress yourself and end up hurting the baby, she was there for you when you went into labor and had to be rushed to the hospital. She was there when the loud cries filled the room when the doctors popped Demi out of you.

Thinking of this only made you angrier, because it was wrong that you had to rely so much on your best friend instead of the man that was supposed to be Demi’s father, and now, because of his involvements with these people, your daughter has been taken. She has nothing to do with this.

You wipe your face, trying to get the tears to stop falling but they just wouldn’t. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Armando looking at you with an expression that you can’t read but when he notices that you’ve seen his antics, he averts his attention elsewhere. You can’t help but think that he wants to say something to you, but you can’t bring yourself to care in this moment.

As much as you’d like to deny it, deep down you still have feelings for that man. But there are many reasons as to why you can’t just happily jump back into his arms and ask him to take you back.

Right now, you have more than yourself to worry about. You have Demi, and if you were going to get with a man, she deserves to have someone that will care and love her and right now, you aren’t sure that man could be Armando.

You aren’t paying much attention to the group as they talk about a plan to get the hostages back, you aren’t in your right mind and it seems everybody notices that. All you can think about is your little girl.

Mike looks at his son, and even though they don’t have the deepest relationship, he can tell that the boy is worried for you. He still isn’t entirely sure what you and him are to each other, but he can definitely tell that seeing you as broken as you are now is breaking something in Armando himself. He makes his way to Armando’s side and slightly nudges his side to get his attention.

“Go talk to her,” he says, gesturing to the grieving woman, “You two clearly have things to discuss, you better get it out of the way before we start making moves.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Armando grumbles, his eyes wandering to your person for what felt like the hundreth time in the last ten minutes.

“You never know until you try–”

“I did try, she told me to get the hell away from her.”

“Listen man, I don’t know what your relationship is with her, but what I do know is that if you don’t talk to her now, you might not get another chance to.”

Armando takes in his fathers words, contemplating his options and realizing that he really only has two: Not talk to you and then potentially die before he gets the chance to, or two, talk to you know and list the weight thats been on his chest ever since he saw you walk through that front door.

He decides that he would probably come to regret picking the latter, but his feet are gliding him toward where you sat with Kelly before he could find some excuse as to why he should wait until later to have this inevitable conversation.

You don’t seem to notice him until he’s standing before you, yet you don’t lift your head. Kelly does, however, and gives him a certain look that read, “If you hurt her more than she’s already hurting, I swear I’ll kill you”. He nodded to her, and she hesitantly nodded back. She rubbed your back in a comforting way one last time before standing up and walking toward the rest of the group. Armando took her place next to you.

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you. It’s a mix of awkward and comfortable silence between you two before you break it by suddenly speaking up.

“She’s yours,” You say without warning. You decided that you’d rip the band-aid off and quell any thoughts about you hooking up with some other guy that he might’ve had, “Her name is Demi. She’s four… She’s yours.”

“...I had a feeling,” He starts, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything and wait for him to expand. You wait for his to say anything to help you understand why he left you. Why he abandoned you and your unborn child. But he says nothing.

You sigh, “Why’d you do it?” You sounded tired. You didn’t want to argue. You just wanted him to help you understand his decision all those years ago.

“I got caught up in some shit. Fucked with the wrong people.”

“Yeah no shit,” You spit out.

Silence overtakes you both once again.

“You didn’t even leave a text,” You say quietly, “Y’know I waited for you. I waited, and waited, and waited, and then waited some more, yet you never came home. Never.”

Up until this point your head had been in your hands, trying to soothe your pounding headache, but now your gaze laid on his face, making direct eye contact. You let him see your stinging red eyes from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“I didn’t want to involve you in my shit. I didn’t want you to end up hurt because of me–” He begins, but you don’t take any of that bullshit.

“Yeah? Well I’m involved now, and guess who’s paying the fucking price? My– our child.”

This shuts him up. He doesn’t have anything to say to that, other than, “I’m sorry.”

You scoff. Is that all he can offer you? After all he’s put you through?

“Was it even real?” You ask on a whim.

“What?” He questions.

“Us. Was it real? Since you found it so easy to just up and leave some random day?”

“You think that shit was easy?” He snaps, “I loved you– I love you so much, so how the hell could you say that me leaving you was fuckin’ easy?”

You flinched at the correction from loved to love, “You sure as hell made it seem that way.”

He startled you by grabbing your shoulders tightly. He turned you so you looked at him fully, eye contact as intense as ever.

“I had to damn near fight myself to not turn back and run into your arms again after I left you. I thought about you every fuckin’ day that I wasn’t around you. If I could go back, I swear I would’ve told my mother to fuck off if it meant that I could stay with you… with our child. But at the time I was a fucking idiot and I thought–” He had to stop his rambling for a moment to take a breath. You stared at him with wide eyes, he was never one to go on tangents like this, and you made no effort to stop him. “I thought that leaving was the best decision for you, for us, at the time and I planned on coming back. I really did. But everytime I even thought it was okay to return more shit kept happening and I just– I didn’t want you involved.”

You let him trail on with his words as you found comfort in his somewhat desperate hold in your shoulders.

“I never meant to hurt you the way I did.” Armando concluded.

You avert your eyes down slightly, breaking the eye contact but he puts his finger under your chin to lift it back up. He doesn’t want you avoiding this conversation.

He isn’t sure what possessed him to lean down, shortening the distance between the two of you until there was nothing but a pocket of air seperating his lips from yours, but as he’s about to take the final step, you pull away slowly.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” You begin, unsure of what excuse your about to pull, “I can’t.” You say, deciding not to beat around the bush.

He nods in understanding, yet you immediately recognize the hurt in his eyes.

You pull away from his hands on your shoulders and he makes no move to stop you. You take a deep breath in, like you want to say something else before you part ways, but ultimately decide against it.

You say nothing as you walk back to the group, leaving him standing motionless behind you.

“As far as they know, Lockwood is on his way with a plane to move the hostages to Cuba,” Mike spoke, going over the plan once more. Today was the day you took action to rescue the people that were kidnapped. Mike’s wife, the girl that was with her at the time– Callie, and…Demi. God… I swear if they did something to her… “The second they get close to the plane with the hostages, it’s quick kills. Neutralize all threats. These motherfuckers killed a lot of good cops. They have my wife, they have Callie, and they have (Name)’s daughter.” You lowered your eyes at the aknowledgement.

“They attacked our families. We not losing today.” He concludes, and everyone nods their head.

You were partnered with the tech team in the van, watching the situation from drone footage. You wanted to be on the front lines to get rid of every fucker who thought taking your daughter was a good idea, but you were stuck inside of the van until extra help was needed.

You hear the helicopter pilot through your comms device in your ear, “I got one looking out the front door, right side, I got one sniper on the roof of building two.”

“T those up,” Rita says, who ended up joining the cause after realizing the man she was dating was with the enemy. You quickly code in a few commands for the drone to follow and before long you have eyes on the two mentioned. “Everybody keep moving. What are those?”

She points to the objects presented in the live map of the area, and you answer, “Gaters.”

“I thought it was an abandoned theater park?”

“Abandoned by humans,” Kelly jumps in while loading her gun.

You manage to find the parks webpage from when it was open and discover that the main attraction was an albano aligator named “Duke”. It was sixteen feet long, and there are stories about him still being there to this day.

“Well fuck that…” You mutter.

You watch from the drone as the main team lands in the water as planned, getting into position.

“Armando’s at his QTH,” Dorn confirms, letting everyone know that he’s in position. You swallow the lump in your throat.

Lockwood steps out of the helicopter and walks on the dock, waiting for them to bring out the hostages. You hold your breath and watch closely.

“Hostages are coming out now,” Dorn says. Your eyes dart across the screen, looking for your daughter in particular before spotting her in the arms of a muscular man. They walked behind the other two that were kidnapped and you can barely contain yourself when you take in the terrified look on your four year olds’ face.

“Fuck…” You choke out under your breath. Kelly hears this and rubs circles into your back for comfort. You put your hands over your mouth in a prayer like position and keep watching through the drones.

“Everybody stay calm,” Rita says.

The plan was for Mike to take out their leader as soon as he had the chance to, which was why he was on the front lines, yet when you notice no movement from his end, you begin to become worried that something has gone wrong.

“Mike?” Rita blurts, “Mike do you have the shot?”

“Negative, I do not have a shot, I do not have a shot,” he says into the comms device. Your eyebrows furrow as you look from a perspective of a drone that flew near where the helicopter had landed, and you conclude that from where Mike was posted, he should’ve had a clear shot.

A moment goes by and the kidnappers walk with the hostages, but just a little ways before they reach Lockwood, they stop on the bridge.

“They stopped, why’d they stop?” Dorn hurridly says. The drone is able to catch the sight of something slowly moving through the water and you conclude that it’s what they are looking at as well, you watch as their leader follows whatever is moving and your heart sinks when you realize what the thing in the water is moving towards.

“Armando–” You start, but he seems to have noticed it as well.

“Shit.” He says.

One man signals for the soldiers around him to start a search, suddenly becoming suspicious of where the thing in the water was going, and who it may be targeting. “Armando they’re closing in on you.” Dorn states.

“Do they see him?” Rita asks.

“I don’t know.”

Rita takes the time that they are distracted to pressure Mike, surely he has a shot now, right? “Mike, now! Your chance is now, they can see him, they know we’re here!”

“I don’t have it, negative, negative.”

“You’ve got to take the fucking shot,” Armando mumbles out, keeping his eye on the thing slowly advancing toward him in the water, and the person that was getting dangerously close to his hiding spot above.

You watch as all hell breaks loose when Armando shoots the man who semed to have spotted him, and he falls into the water only to be finished off by the thing in the water, now identified to be the ledgendary sixteen foot long gator. You don’t think you’ve ever been as scared as you had been the moment you realize they know they’ve been set up, and they start taking the hostages back into the building. Your daughter begins to cry and it breaks your heart.

“Engage!” Rita shouts through the comms, “Kelly, get us there.”

You leave your chair and move to the front of the van along with Kelly as she steps on the gas. You take the time to reload your own gun, and slip a knife in your boot for emergencies.

By the time the four of you have arrived, the fight has moved inside. Rita orders you three to go inside and she states that she’ll go after Lockwood and you don’t have to be told twice before you’re rushing in there. You hear Kelly shouting your name behind you, trying to get you to slow down as you leave them in the dust, but all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, desperate to find your daughter. You arrive just in time to see the man who was holding onto your daughter walk up a flight of stairs and you waste no time following after, shooting whoever was in your way.

The path splits into three once you reach the top and you pick a random path, slowly walking into the room.

You make sure the room is clear, making sure there is no one in it before you turn around, only to be smacked in the face with the butt of a gun. You stumble and fall, and make eye contact with the man who took you by surprise. You see him aiming at you, but with no intention to die before you find your daughter, you regain your balance and sweep his leg and quickly make your way on top of him. You snatch the knife out of your boot and put it to his neck, “Where is the child?” You hiss out, “I swear I’ll fucking kill you, where is she?” You barked when he took too long to answer for your liking.

“I don’t know what your talking about–” You decide you don’t have time for this bullshit, and jab him in the stomach with the knife. He lets out a cry of pain and he finds the cool metal of the knife back on the skin of his neck with a noticable change of pressure this time around. He was sure it would cut into the skin at any moment, “Okay, okay! Last I heard she was on the top floor.”

“Fuck,” You say, realizing that there were more floors than you realized. You don’t say another word before puncturing the side of his neck, quickly ending him. You get up, ready to leave the room but you’re grabbed from behind and choked. You grip the arm that wraps around your neck and stab your already bloodied knife into it, releasing yourself from the headlock. Even though the man who’d attacked you had been stabbed he was relentless. He ran at you again, landing a punch into your stomach and you got a few hits in yourself. You smash his head against a wall which either kills or knocks him out, and you can’t bring yourself to care as you see more men rush into the room.

You dance around them, getting in hits and taking some as well and you whip out your gun. You wanted to preserve bullets but you were getting overwhelemed by the amount of people that were flowing into the room. You shoot a few with amazing accuracy.

You hear a grunt behind you and before you can turn around, you are hit in the head with the butt of another gun again. You groan, the pain of your injuries starting to show through the adrenaline and the man behind you grabs you by your hair and pulls you up before wraping his own arm around your neck. You close one eye in pain and watch as one man walks to you, aiming his gun.

Before he can shoot, there is another shot that interrupts their plan and it ends up hitting the man behind you. Now free from his hold, you make use of the distraction and kick the man in front of you in the gut, causing him to double over. You knee him in the face and snatch his gun, shooting him in the face.

You look at your savior, and your eyes widen as you realize who it was. Armando…

“You good?” He asks. You nod, and he joins you at your side to finish off the remaining of the enemy, but before any of you can make a move, a helicopter comes smashing through the window, instantly killing two of the guys. You’re right in the path of the helicopter, and you see out of the corner of your eye Armando running towards you. He grabs onto you and you both fly out of the way. He manuvers both of your bodies until he’s the one to take most of the impact once you land.

Once all the chaos settles, you both stand up. You look at him, his hands still embracing you protectively, “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer him and continue to stare into his eyes. Those eyes you’ve known for so long. You don’t know what could’ve possessed you to do this, but you feel as if it’s the only thing you could do in the moment. With haste, you push your lips against his.

You can feel his surprise in your sudden action. You bring your hands up and grip his vest for stability and you feel the moment where he begins to reciprocate. Your mouths move together in a practiced motion and you wonder how he’s still such a good kisser after all these years.

The kiss quickly becomes heated, hurried. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you let him, moving the muscles together, competing for dominance. You groan into his mouth.

He then begins to walk forward, and you walk backwards slowly until your back makes contact with the wall behind you and he cages you in, his lips never leaving yours. Tongue never unlocking with your own. One hand is connected to the wall and the other to your hip as he brings you impossibly closer. You bask in the moment.

You break the kiss first, needing air, and his lips search for yours again instantly when you do. Your mind begins to cloud, but you remember why you’re here in the first place. You need to find your daughter. Even knowing this, you find it hard to pull away from the sensation that is his lips against your own, but somehow you find it in you to put your hands on his chest and gently push him away. He looks down at you in question.

“Can…can we continue… after I find my daughter?” You breathe heavily, still breathless from the passionate moment you shared.

“Yeah… okay. I’m coming with you.” Your eyes shot up at him at the statement. You nod at him and he hesitantly releases you from his hold. Desperate to rid yourself of the tension left in your lower area due to the kiss, you walk away, recalling what the man said about another floor.

Armando follows closely behind you.

You eventually find the staircase that would lead you to the top floor, and of course, awaiting you were more of the enemy. With Armando by your side, you make quick work of them and once all that were left were bodies, you begin to search the room. It was the only room on the top floor, so unless that guy was lying to you, Demi must be here.

So where the hell is she?

There is no sign of her being here. You check behind boxes, inside cabinets, everywhere. Your breathing quickly grows rapid as you realize that your daughter is nowhere in sight. If she’s not here, then where the hell could she be? The rest of your team was in the lower areas on the building, and if one of them found her, surely they would’ve announced it over the comms, right? So where the hell is your daughter?

You feel a hand on your back, “Hey, hey, you’re fine. We’ll find her, okay?” Armando says.

You realize you can’t waste time, so you nod and recollect yourself. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have no clue where she could be if not here.

“Look,” Armando states once your breathing had slowed, he points to the left where there seemed to be a door to a balcony of sorts.

You take a deep breath and follow him, as he already started making his way toward it.

He kicks open the door, gun aimed at the figure that stood at the edge of the balcony and your heart dropped. In front of you stood your little girl, and a man that took his place on the ledge of what had to be a long ass drop. You feared the worst and your gun shoot in your hands.

“Put the guns down!” The man demanded, “Right now or I promise you I’ll jump, and take her ass with me!” He says. He emphasizes his words by gripping your daughter tighter and holding his gun to her head, then back at the two of you.

Your daughter is bawling her eyes out. You aren’t even sure if he noticed that you were there for her. She was scared out of your mind. “Demi–”

“Shut up, and put your fucking guns down!” The man demanded. You listen this time, which prompted Armando to do the same. You cursed to yourself, realizing what little power you have in this situation. “I want you two to slowly walk back out that door.”

“We can’t do that,” Armando states, his hands rising in the air after he dropped his gun to show he’s not a threat.

“Fucking do it!” The man boasted. You aren’t sure what your options are, if there were any. You look to Armando, and he seems to sense your eyes on the back of his head.

He then looks at you a certain way, and mouths to you, “Trust me.”

Your eyes widen and you let out a yelp in surprise when Armando takes off running toward the man and your daughter. This takes the man by surprise too, before he makes no effort to pull the trigger and only seems to panick at the incoming threat. He doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Armando uses his shoulder and back to swiftly steal your daughter from the mans grip, all the while using force to push him off of the balcony.

You watch as Armando sinks to his knees with your daughter, gently combing her hair with his fingers and whispering in her ear words of comfort. She grips onto him tightly and cries into his police vest. It takes you a moment to realize that she is safe. Something about Armando holding your daughter in his arms and caring for her makes you realize and think about some things that you haven’t thought to think about before, but you put that all of the back burner in favor of finally holding Demi in your arms again.

“Baby…” You whisper, almost in disbelief that she really is safe and sound. Demi registers your voice in her little head and whips it around to face you.

“Mama!!” She cries, she leaves Armando’s hold and you drop to your knees to give her the biggest, tightest hug you can. You sniffle and pull her head into your neck.

“Are you okay Mimi? Let me look at you…” You say, pulling away from her to check her from any kind of injury. She shakes her head, you take in the sight of her red eyes from all the crying she’s been doing.

“Mama is hurt…” She mumbles. You move your hand to the various areas that Demi points at and notice that you are indeed hurt in many areas, but you don’t care. Not right now.

“I am… But it’s okay, mama’s strong, just like you baby. God, I love you so much,” You say, planting a long, wet kiss on her forehead and hug her again tightly.

“I love you too, mama,” Demi says into your neck. You look at Armando as you hug Demi, and you mouth a quick “Thank you.” He nods to you, watching the interaction.

The moment is interrupted by Mike on the comms, “Armando, come in Armando.”

“What’s up?” Armando replies.

“You need to get out of here, Judy’s here and is looking for you. Take the boat and get the hell out of here.”

Armando hesitates, looking at you and your daughter… his daughter. Whatever he’s contemplating seems like he’s making a hard decision in his mind, but luckily for him, you’ve already made up yours.

“We’ll come with you.” You state.

“What? No–”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Silence overtakes you, but you don’t let it linger for too long, “Don’t push us away again.”

This looks to have convinced him, as he takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

You don’t know how the future will go for you three. You dread the predestined talk with your daughter that you’re going to have to have with her to tell her that this man is really her father, but all you know is that as your walking through that building, your daughter being carried by him and her hooked onto her neck for safety and comfort, you feel as if you have good things coming.

And so you let yourself crack a genuine smile, one that you felt hasn’t shown itself since the night that he left you.

And he reciprocates the same one. One you haven’t seen in years, and one you’re sure to see in many more to come.

TAGLIST: (if you didn’t get tagged, it’s probably due to settings!)

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Scandalous Shooting

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin

Length: 3140 words

Tags: quickie sex, semi-public sex, might get caught, sex toys, toy use in public, a tiny bit of feet kink/admiration, standing sex, from behind, hard sex, very wet, very close to squirting, very close to losing your career, megalomaniac!you

TW: semi-public sex, I guess lol

Inspiration: the GIF below. Pure sex.

Credt: @sooyadelicacies, my wonderful co-writer in this series. You can find more parts here!

(A/N: After almost three weeks, I'm finally back! Eleven to One is far from being over, view this as sort of an interlude with a big plot point and some nice, good fun with our hot af Ahn Yujin. Enjoy!)

“Excited for my new shoot? Yujin has sent a video.”

#

"Fuck you dumb bitch, suck it just like that." 

Your cock was currently slamming the throat of a gagging Kim Chaewon for what could be between one minute and one hour, anything in between really, but either way, her salvation has just arrived. You pull out of her huffing and puffing mouth and with no further thought wasted on the training session, you prepare to leave.

"What? Where are you going asshole?" Chaewon shouts, baffled, furious, most importantly baffled when you instantly have your hands around her neck and glare down at her, petite and small, kneeling on the floor, one could almost mistake her for a good girl. Chaewon is not yet there though.

"My desire and cock is needed elsewhere. You're not a priority, only a cheap convenience. Yujin is demanding my attention, rather, I demand her body right now." 

Chaewon's face further contorts to a scowl, as you expected. There is the spirit to fight, fight back, fight you, fight whoever opposes her. This spirit is slowly but surely bending to your will and the best part about it: Chaewon has no clue. 

"I'm better than she is..."

Left to right, you cross her messed up face with your cock and scoff at how pitifully desperate her expression is. A little fingering with Minju, a quick blowjob, a facefuck, and she is already demanding you to stay; over your beloved girlfriend, mind you.

"Don't kid yourself, Chaewon." You get your hand in her hair, comb it then mess it up again. "You are so far behind, it's not even funny to compare yourself to her. Like I said: not a priority.

"Minmin, I need you to tie her up. Chaewon's been bad again."

"Yes Daddy!" Minju says naked before you, she is always in the next room, ready to adhere to your commands with glee and joy, even as she puts ropes around her friends ankles and wrists.

"Oh and Minju,” you add, pants not yet around your waist. “How about you suck me off and I'll blast it all over Chaewon's face before I leave. If you are fast, I’ll allow you to lick it off of her too." 

Minju’s eyes brighten and she nods furiously. Soon she’ll nod on your cock.

#

It always fascinates you how easy it is to get into certain areas as long as you look determined and wear the appropriate attire. You dart into the building where Yujin currently still had her shooting for the 1000th magazine her stunning face will be featured on.

Is this an issue for you? No. Yujin is yours, ready to go the extra mile for you every single day. She accepts your craziest desires, the family of lustful friends around the two of you, hell, she risks her entire hard earned career and reputation for you. No reason to mistrust her or be envious because people get to see her face or shoulder or feet—

Okay, this is where you draw the line. Yujin just looks too good; her curvy, willing body on the drawer, hair done to tempting perfection, gaze full of sex and then she sticks her bare feet out. You have to stop it, though it's already on camera, they can’t have more of that.

Behind a group of staff members you come to a halt. Get on your toes and look over their heads to find Yujin, in talks with the director. You hear whispers about some reshoots, Yujin handles the small, direct criticisms like a professional. Of course your eyes also drop from her face to her hips, then even lower to her feet, which are currently hidden in two ugly slippers.

Blending in with the crowd, you make a mental note to speed up plans for your next merger, which is right around the corner, only some stupid, posh guys in suits hesitating, because they don’t want to lose face to Hyewon’s non-nonsense negotiation tactics. After this final chess move, there is no more sneaking around after that. It's a checkmate for any and every doubt. Nothing can stop your fantasies from coming true.

You wait for Yujin to notice you, but then grow impatient. Tapping on your pants pocket, you push a button and notice from a distance a twitch of pleasure on her face as she quickly scans the room to find you.

Perfect, she still has it on her. Whenever Yujin goes out, she has the option to take a small bullet vibrator from her purse and use it to relieve some stress or make a boring schedule more fun. The vibrator is connected with both your and her phone, so you can always test if she knows that you are nearby—and also have your way with her, of course.

Yujin’s libido is great enough for such a bold move and of course she has found you immediately, but instead of going straight towards you, she continues her duty. After all, the reshoots have to continue.

"This scene right here, on top of the drawer," the director says. Yujin gets into position, and thank God she kicks off the slippers.

You lick your lips a little before turning into a scowl. You push the button again, only this time on a higher setting. If you arrived, you were the top priority, not some wannabe director having his eyes look at the most sex-oozing woman to ever walk on this earth. Watching Yujin squirm, you decide to pull out your phone and make a call. The call.

"Hyewon, plans have changed. I want the merger motion to go forward right now. I'm done waiting." 

"Yes, Master!" 

You only had to wait as you watched Yujin continue to try and control herself under the power of the toy inside her. As the minutes and poses went on, it became harder for her to withstand the buzzing pleasure, though the constant background noise has everyone except you blissfully unaware of the vibrators presence. You have to admit, waiting is the thing you hate the most in this world, but with Yujin on the edge, in public, right before your eyes, it’s more than bearable.

"Miss Ahn, is everything okay?" the cameraman asks, worried and puzzled by Yujin's expressions and the increasing redness on her cheek.

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm gu-ud. Should I try a different pose?"

"How about you put your legs up on it, like you did earlier?" the director suggests. 

When it comes to poses, magazine shoots, and being in front of the camera in general, Yujin is a goddess in every aspect. Cute, thrilling, hot, seductive, cool, she can do it all—and today she decided to give the people what they want.

This tease cannot go unpunished. You continue to let the vibrator do its thing on a low setting to not elicit any unwanted moans and just wet her crotch more and more. It might not be noticeable on the black dress, but she is about to soak it, let her juices run down her legs and pool at her marvelous feet. You are insatiable, not even stopping when she looks at you with begging puppy eyes—

Yujin is at your mercy; only you can get her out of this.

A message from Hyewon lights up your phone. It is done, Master. Well spoken, she must have really pushed those otherwise tenacious executives around hard to get it done this quickly. Smiling, you decide to make your presence known, startling the crew. 

"Mr. Director, you should be getting a phone call any moment now, I'm here to supervise the rest of this shoot. You're all doing wonderful, but I want to make sure Yujin's health is prioritized. Could we go for a lunch break now?"

"Sir, who are you—" The shrill ring of his phone interrupts the bewildered director, though his bewilderment only increases with every second the phone call continues. He hastily runs from set to set, gathering staff members, phone still pressed to his cheek.

"What have you done now?" Yujin snarls, her body not on the drawer anymore, unstable next to you. She grabs your suit, but elect to You ignore her and watch the staff flock out, the directors face full with sweat, an apologetic gesture towards you.

"So-sorry, Sir, we of course take the health of the idols very seriously. I didn't know you were managing her."

"It's alright," you say reassuringly, hand in a pocket, and in the thrill of the moment, you push the vibrator to the strongest setting. "Are you~ alright, Miss Ahn?"

Yujin cries out, her shriek startling the director. He tries to react quickly, but you put on your sternest, most serious face, really, the feat of a great actor, though that is par for the course in your business. 

"Lets not waste any time. Mr. Director .I'll need everybody off the set. I'd rather not have anyone see Miss Ahn like this. Thanks for your understanding."

"I-I, of course, I'll—"

The director throws his hands in the air. His face is pale, he is unsure where to run, left, right; he needs time to catch himself and find the exit as does everyone else. He closes the door with an apologetic bow and you can hear him shout in panic and frustration.

"How the hell did you do that?" Yujin mumbles, her hands on your side to keep herself upright. Look down to find her legs drenched in her own juices, the dress ruined, her hair in a wild mane.

You lick your lips. 

"Oh baby girl, you're mine now. I had Hyewon seal the deal. I bought your company, which means, personally and professionally, every part of you belongs to me."

Yujin's puppy eyes have never been bigger—except for maybe the time you first penetrated her tight pussy—though this time you find it hard to make out any clear thought she might have; is it pure bewilderment at the boldness and timing of your move? Is it anger because you purposefully got her into trouble, took things too far, just because you could? Or is it—

"Now what?" Yujin grits her teeth and looks to the wet floor. "This was too risky! Reporters will ask questions, some are going to spy on you, rumors will spread—they will find it out! You can't hide this forever."

You gently rake your hand through Yujin's raven hair and watch her toes tense up. Her entire body radiates tension, stress, like she can see everything crumble. The future looks bleak, nothing but darkness. The ‘young you’ can relate strongly, the bottom is usually dark—but as long as you fight, you'll reach the light. Even in the poorest of areas, someone is able to reach for the stars and create a better place for himself, his family.

A better place, even better than what you believed was already perfect.

"Trust me, Yujin," you coo to her and gently pull her hair back to look down at that concerned face of a beautiful goddess. "This is going to lead to moments greater than you could've ever dreamed of."

She looks at you with a swirl of conflicted emotions, but you don't let her dwell on it for too long as you move in to kiss her, prodding your tongue into her mouth too. You subtly position your left hand's fingers near her wet snatch.

"We don't have—"

"—a lot of time," the two of you whisper simultaneously. It's teamwork, alright, how she finishes your sentence with her needy voice, how you hike up her dress while she fiddles with your zipper, how you both find a bit of cover in the far corner of the room. If someone were to come in, you'd at least not be seen, but by the way Yujin squirms when you pull at the cord of the oval vibrator, her voice will make the situation blatantly obvious, even for a blind person.

"You need to stay quiet," you growl in Yujin's neck while you still try to get the plug out of her tight cunt. "This is some serious business, don't disappoint me. Do it like you did last year, on the red carpet.

"Why the fuck—"

The vibrator is still stuck inside her, the walls of Yujin's pussy clamp around it, not ready to let go of the pleasure the constant vibration brings. If it wasn't for your arm around her waist, Yujin would've dropped to the floor already. She is unable to resist it, it's deep inside her, it's snuck and comfortable. 

A conflict for you, for her: Can you really let her cum just like this again? It would not be the great, immediate release for your cock you were looking for, but the humiliation, Yujin's embarrassment would make you ascend to a new level of all-powerfulness. It's the same for her, just the other way around. It seems that she has made up her mind before you though:

"Daddy please, you-you need to leave… let me finish the shoot and—" 

But you keep kissing her neck. 

"Baby girl," you growl. "Either you cum on my cock after I pound your tight little pussy or I turn that toy in you on maximum for the rest of the day. You'll squirt like a fucking fountain, make a mess and then what? What will the headlines say then?" 

"Daddy, please! At home… I'll do whatever you want, just not here."

"You know it already don't you, baby girl? I'm your salvation—my cock is your salvation—with it inside your walls, it will keep your cum from spilling out and save you from becoming breaking news."

This much convincing, with Yujin convulsing, is really confusing, but in the end, she is unable to conceal her desire for you to plug her. Her neediness is an issue and your neediness is the solution.

There is no need or time for a blowjob, you are ready to enter right away, so you grab as much of the black dress as you can and pull it up. Yujin's help would be appreciated, but the horny thing can barely stand on her own, both her hands on your back to find security.

"You're the prettiest when you are this needy, baby girl," you tell her as her large, watery eyes are unable to look anywhere but you. A couple of tears spill over, then down her cheeks when she finally presses out the vibrator from her pussy. "Get your leg up here, on this couch." 

The angle is perfect, your throbbing cock aligned—you still need to dive in her delicious full lips with that strawberry flavor to deafen her moans. The dive was almost too late, the draw of her cunt is too strong for your manhood to resist, and of course you fill her fully.

"God, you're so tight, you're always tighter when you're so needy.” Your words come pouring out when you disconnect your lips from hers; it’s like disconnecting from the world and ascending to a place of unknown, unbound, unending power. “I get it now. These shoots, these long and stressful hours. You're so hard working baby girl, but now we can fuck anytime. Isn't that a good thing?" 

You thrust harshly and stroke Yujin’s pretty hair. Anytime, anywhere, it all doesn’t matter anymore. What it matters is you in her, above her, all over her. This is what your love is "Tell Daddy how it feels."

"Y-you're so greedy," Yujin huffs out, even after years of almost daily pussy pounding she is unable to control her breathing during sex. "Where, fuck, where will this end?"

"Answer my question, baby. And keep your moans down. I might make you cum, erupt like a pent up volcano. I can already feel the tsunami building up. Admit that you want me this greedy, because nothing can satisfy—"

"Fuck, okay, okay." Yujin grabs the sleeve of your suit with one hand and your nape with the other. "Daddy, own me. My entire life, my career, my social circle—take it." Her eyes are daggers, then a concoction of bliss, devotion and insurmountable expectations. "Take re-responsibility, and I'll be the best baby girl ever."

"You'll be that either way."

Slam her against one of these many thin, unstable decorative background walls, watch it sway dangerously backwards, but fuck her with the same recklessness as before. Yujin's teeth dig into her lower lip, her body losing all it's grip, except for the grip of her cunt, which you have fucked from every angle, sure, but standing has her the tightest. At least, you believe it right now—maybe it's the setting, the chance to get caught, the career ending thrill.

"I'm your good girl, good girl, Daddy, I—"

"Go on and cum. My cock will save you."

A fleeting moment, a moment of silence, no movement, as if time itself freezes. A moment where Yujin truly is powerless, where she can't just walk out and break up with you or throw everything away and live a different life. She is about to scream her orgasm out, and with her arms uselessly hanging on the sides of her convulsing, climaxing, prime body, nothing but you can stop her from getting caught.

And she submits herself to it, the scream never making it to anyone as you silence her with a strong palm on her luscious lips. Yujin shakes and shakes, only hints of juices making their way past your shaft, your base. She is plugged and both her legs and dress are saved—at least from being ruined entirely.

The orgasm continues in waves. Yujin's eyes water, her moans echo back, her knees melt like ice cream in the summer—she has to admit, she is waiting for your cream inside her, though it never comes.

"Good girl," you coo to her and start fixing her hair while still balls deep in her cunt. "I have some spare panties for you. Don't worry, I soaked them in some perfume, they won't smell anything. Remember, Daddy is right here. Just follow my lead."

"Y-yes." Out of breath is an understatement. You suffocated the poor girl to the point of exhaustion. Maybe that is the point, to make her look exhausted, weak, hell, she can barely walk. You support her, watch her put on the panties, swipe away some messed up makeup that would look too wild, too suspicious. 

"Hook your arm underneath mine," you tell her. "I'll tell them your ankle is hurt, that we'll go to a doctor, something like that."

"Daddy, why do you go through such lengths for, for this?"

You grin and look down at your girlfriend, mere moments before the photography director comes rushing back onto the set.

"Why are you so tight whenever we might get caught doing this?"

[anglingforlevels]

Another Generic Slasher (Yandere Slasher x Reader)

Don't mind me, accidentally deleting this story and having to repost it. It was my first attempt at writing gore, so nothing too egregious in here.

CW: Graphic Death Scenes, Character Death, Violence (A Little Against Reader), Gore, Yandere, Swearing, Reader is referred to as “handsome” but not in reference to a gender, Dead Dove, Not Proofread

Minors DNI

Life was far away, and you hoped it wouldn’t catch up to you anytime soon. So, you thought, as you arrived at the summer getaway you and your friends had planned. When the car stopped, everyone jumped out and, perhaps inspired by their own anticipation, began unpacking without missing a beat.

“Ah, let me help you with that, Ms. Browning.” Jake said, already grabbing some of the boxes that Ms. Browning had brought with her.

“Why thank you, how reliable. What a good kid.” She hummed, pleased. Ms. Browning was the lady who owned the lovely house out in the wood that you and your friends had rented for vacation. She wore her red hair in a tight bun, and donned black, thick glasses.

“No problem. Ms. Browning.” Jake smiled. That sap was always offering to help people out, so he no doubt meant it. He had never minded a bit of hard work even on his days off. You, however, were happy to leave him to do the heavy lifting.

You had come here with three of your buddies to get away from the city and enjoy your time-off with some extra flair. Jake had suggested it back when you helped him dye the tips of his brown hair a lighter shade.

You had jumped at the idea, and begun calling up the others, so much that you had forgotten about the dye for a moment, leaving Jake’s tips white, which you had insisted contrasted well with his brown hair and dark skin (though he continued pouting, not entirely convinced).

Someone gently tapped your shoulder. Looking over a bespeckled, freckled visage greeted you, as she waited patiently for you to give the go-ahead to talk. “What up, Aisha?”

She hesitated for a moment. “…Is there anything I can help with?”

You had the feeling that wasn’t what she had been wanting to say, but didn’t want to push her, so instead, you simply nodded with a grin. “Yeah, for starters, you could bring your luggage inside?”

“Right. Of course.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, a little worried for her. Your attention was called elsewhere when Sara, the finale member of the group, yelled out, her voice echoing in the forest. “Jake let’s race to see who gets their box inside first. Loser has to make dinner tonight.”

Sara emerged from the hood of Ms. Browning’s car, with two boxes stacked in her arms. Which seemed impressive, had you not seen a pillow peeking through one of the boxes. The only disadvantage was the lack of visibility, but given Sara’s buzz cut versus Jake’s long bangs, it didn’t count for much.

“You wanna race in that long dress?” Jake asked dubiously.

“Scared?” Sara smiled that crooked smile she always did when she got competitive, and Jake rolled his eyes, despite eagerly getting in position. Those dorks.

“I’ll do the countdown.” You offered. “On now. 3. 2. 1.” You kept them waiting in suspense for a moment before shouting. “NOW!”

They both kicked off and… “I won.” Aisha’s voice rang out, and there she stood with a small box in the doorway, with a little smile on her lips.

“Whaaat?” Jake exclaimed. Sara shook her head in disapproval.

“Judge, I call foul. Aisha was already by the porch.”

“We never agreed to a starting line.” You pointed out, having seen Aisha moving toward the porch mischievously while you did your countdown.

“The judge and Aisha are clearly cooperating. Outrageous.” Then, Sara smiled a cat-like smile. “Then, we’ll just have to make sure the judge comes in last place, right Jake?”

“Huh.” You said, but by the time you processed the words, they had already taken off. “Hey now!” You ran after them, but predictably lost.

“Lookin’ forward to tonight’s meal.” Jake said, looking mighty satisfied with himself. You shook your fist at them playfully.

“The energy of youth really isn’t to be overestimated.” Ms. Browning laughed, entering the house with the last of her boxes.

“Youth? Tell that to my lower back, please.” You sighed, earning an eye roll from Jake who had been subjected to that specific complaint the most, as your go-to carrier.

“At my age, anyone under forty seems young.” Ms. Browning placed her box on the table and clapped her hands satisfied. “There, that was all of it. Again, thank you for helping me carry the boxes, that’s no trivial thing. It’s been years since I’ve rented this place out, so I thought I’d replace a couple of things.”

“It was no problem, Ms. Browning, you let us stove our stuff in the car too after all. And we’re just excited to vacation somewhere so beautiful.”

“That’s true. Beautiful places seems to make the spirit brighter, don’t they? It’s like I always say, trivial is as trivial does, and ugly things are trivial.”

…

Exchanging looks, none of you knew how to respond to that, to your luck, Ms. Browning simply continued on, allowing all of you to push past it as well.

You began zoning out of the conversation, your eyes idly looking at the interior. When your eyes flew past the open door, you thought your heart would stop for a moment. You could have sworn that, for just a second, you saw a man, an impossibly tall, large man. But after blinking, he was gone.

You relaxed, certain it had probably just been your mind playing tricks on you, and that it had merely been a tree.

Sara and Jake was busy discussing who had actually been the fastest runner between the two of them, so much so that most of Ms. Browning’s introduction to the place went on deaf ears, as she prattled on about the privacy and view. Something about how it was one out of only ten buildings in the entire forest.

As you looked over the place, your eyes drifted over a dresser there seemed a little too far from the wall. Something about it piqued your curiosity, though you weren’t sure what it was, but approaching it you were awarded for said curiosity with the discovery of uneven, barely eligible letters scratched into the wall.

“Trevel?” you read out loud. Jake, who was losing the argument against Sara, eagerly joined to see what you had found, none of you noticing the way Ms. Browning shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s a name, dear.”

“A name? I’ve never heard it before.”

“Well, that makes sense. It’s an ugly name, fit for ugly boys.” You were caught off guard by the harshness of her words. Then she smiled at you and Jake. “And trivial is as trivial does, and ugly boys are trivial. Something like that would be out-of-place with such handsome kids.”

You were distracted by a loud noise outside before you could reply. A look outside revealed the neatly stacked firewood having collapsed, and by the time you looked away, Ms. Browning had already moved on from the conversation.

Before leaving us to ourselves, Ms. Browning diligently gave us a run-down over where everything was, from the firewood outside by the woodchipper, which we were allowed to make use of for fires, to the rooms, even considerately telling how far away the nearest doctors, police, and firefighters were, most being quite far with the exception of a small, local police station, so small it couldn’t even be considered small-town cops but rather forest rangers.

With our ride gone, we began packing out and taking inventory, in case something was missing, and we’d need to call a taxi for shopping. By the time all the boxes had been sorted through for the most crucial stuff, it had begun to grow darker outside.

“Man, I’m starving.” Sara grumbled.

”We could tell by the fact you only unpacked the food.”

Sara playfully stuck her tongue out at you, but even with that rude display, you obediently began collecting ingredients. Jake looked over your shoulder.

“Yellow onions are better for stews.” He commented, as he threw one of the red onions from hand to hand.

“And the red one carries more whimsy.”  

“I can carry that whimsy to the pantry and get some yellow onions instead.”

That was promptly rejected. As he examined your other chosen vegetables, you got out a cutting board.

“Not gonna handle the meat first?” he asked.

You sighed. “What happened to ‘loser cooks’ that you forced me into?” you asked with a hand on your hip. Jake conceded and stepped back. The others had begun getting out the new plates that Ms. Browning had brought along.

“Remind me again, why exactly are you getting plates out already? We haven’t even begun the fire, I’m only at the prep-part?”

“Explain why you began the prep-work before the fire-“ they were interrupted by a loud crash. A plate had slipped out of Aisha’s hands, and now laid shattered on the floor. Aisha stood frozen, her eyes wide.

“I… I’ll clean it up..” She said, her tone sounding a little off.

“I think Ms. Browning mentioned that there’s a broom closet in the hallway.” Sara said, before Aisha even left, you got distracted by Jake crowding you again. By the third interjection (or advice, as he called), you put down the peeler you had used for the carrots.

“Ugh, Jake, you clearly want to do the cooking.” You said. Jake opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it and decided not to protest your words. You sighed. “You and Sara are way too competitive; you’ll even fight for a loss. I’ll go get some firewood for the fire; you get cooking duty.”

“Deal!”

You walked outside, hoping that the firewood wasn’t too damp, as you really didn’t want to cut new firewood, even if there was an axe available. These contemplations were lost as you found Aisha sitting on the porch.

“Trouble finding the broom?” You asked lightly, making Aisha jump a little, startled.

“Just needed a bit of fresh air.” She said, this time you took notice of her tone. She seemed downcast but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. Not quite sad but definitely not happy either.

“Hey man,” you scratched your neck awkwardly. This stuff weren’t your strong suit. “don’t sweat the plate. We’ll just get Ms. Browning a new one.”

Aisha hummed in agreement, still looking at the sky. Your eyes flickered between her and the sky, trying to think of something more to say. “Uh, you know, I mistook a tree for a person, like some kind of horror movie. Which, well,” you trailed off. “What I’m trying to say, it’s more embarrassing than the plate-thing, so don’t worry about it.”

Aisha smiled at that. Whether it was your words or your clumsy attempt that made her smile, you weren’t sure. Aisha sighed, “Sometimes I wish it was a horror movie.”

She looked at you with a surprised expression, as if she hadn’t expected herself to say that either. “I don’t want to be in a horror movie, of course. Not actually. It’s just nice sometimes to imagine.”

“Escaping the jaws of death?”

Aisha was silent for a bit, as if contemplating whether to say her next words. “No. In the horror movie I meet my end. It’s not dragged out, maybe I’m one of the first ones to go. In either case, by the end of the movie, I’m dead, and when the credits are playing, they forget my name. But that’s just running away.” She looked at you and then at the ground. “I’m sorry, that’s a lot to hear.”

It was. You weren’t sure what to respond but you could see Aisha was suffering, you didn’t like seeing that at all. “You’re away from everything right now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. And I really want to enjoy this, I do. I really do. But I didn’t come here to enjoy myself, I came here to run away, somehow I can’t bring myself to relax at all. I’m sorry.”

…You scooted closer to her. “You’re out here talking with me though, that’s not running away.” Even being able to share something, however small, was still something. You thought for a moment, trying to find the right words:

“Listen, you’re… good.” You’re good? It didn’t get any clumsier than that. “Er, I guess that’s not really what you wanted to hear-“Aisha laughed, the sound comforted you.

“No, no. that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Really? Uh,” Gotta keep up this momentum somehow. “Maybe we’ll go on a trip together again, next year. It’ll be like running away from running away. No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Pfft, you’re so bad at this.” Aisha laughed, this time her laugh felt a little more genuine and unrestrained. “How am I supposed to feel melancholic with that kind of cheering up? Let’s definitely go on a trip next year. And…Thanks for coming out here and talking with me.”

She stood up, and the air felt a little lighter around her.

“Well, I should get some firewood going.” You said, begrudgingly, and stood up as well. Only for the both of you to be distracted by rustling from the trees and bushes. You blinked. You were from the city, so you weren’t used to a place with wildlife, and while you could hear the sound of birds and insects nonstop as a reminder of their existence, other types of wildlife had been forgotten by you.

You felt as if something watched you from the trees, meaning the animal probably still was there. You crouched and held out your hands, in what you hoped was a disarming gesture.

“Hey,” you said gently, “Sorry did we frighten you? It’s okay, yeah?” Your hushed words seemed to cause a stop in the rustling before the animal decided to outright leave. Your attempts to soothe apparently left a lot to be desired.

You sighed, only to be faced with Aisha staring at you in disbelief. You looked at her questioning.

“Why are you trying to befriend a wild animal? You know there’s coyotes in some parts of the forest, right?” at that you just rolled your eyes.

“Not this part of the forest, else Ms. Browning wouldn’t be renting out a vacation home.”

“Seriously…” Aisha didn’t seem any less exasperated by you. “I’ll help gather the firework, since if a beast attacked you, you might try to talk to it.”

While you didn’t appreciate her claim, you did appreciate the company and additional helping hands, the broom long forgotten. Especially once you arrived at the scattered firewood. While a pain to fix back into a neat stack, it was a relief to feel how dry and crisp the wood was, as if newly cut.

This meant the axe leaning against the woodchipper, would need no use.

“Can you grab the basket?” Aisha asked after having selected the, in her opinion, finest firewood. You looked around but couldn’t find any. “Hm… Maybe we can carry it ourselves?”

At that, the both of you took one look at the firewood you had picked to last throughout the entire night and decided against it. “I’ll go grab something to carry with.” You volunteered.

You slipped inside, your presence going unnoticed by Jake who was too absorbed with cooking and Sara who was busy crying over newly cut onions. Basket, basket, basket… Satisfied you managed to find one in the living room, by the fireplace, which in hindsight felt a little obvious.

You looked out of the window, rolling your eyes playfully after spotting the way Aisha was sneakily rearranging your half of the pile. She had felt it wasn’t neat enough, while you had argued it would all be thrown into a basket either way.

A large figure emerged from the woods, and you froze. The impossibly tall frame, the one that had you convinced it had to have been a tree, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize that. The figure was huge, in every sense of the word, a bulking presence, enveloped by a long jacket.

He turned his head towards the window, and you duck, panicked. But you swore you had seen nothing but white for a moment. You barged into the kitchen once more, catching the attention of Jake and Sara, but any jokes about your explosive entrance died out when they saw your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw a stranger outside.” You swallowed. “I have a bad feeling about this, he’s-“ Dangerous. You could feel it, if not feel it, you could certainly tell he was capable of being dangerous from his build alone.

“Where’s Aisha?” Sara asked concerned, seeing as she not only hadn’t returned earlier, but wasn’t with you. You confirmed her fears.

“Outside.” You heard a mumbled “fuck”. You wanted to panic and swear as well, but you needed to do something. “Alright, you two, call the police. And I’ll get Aisha back inside.”

“What about the guy?”

“I- he didn’t attack or anything. If I keep acting like I don’t know he’s there, Aisha might be able to get inside. I just have to act natural.” You hoped you sounded confident and reassuring, but even if you didn’t, there wasn’t many other plans being thrown around, so all of you nodded, before you returned to the main entrance.

You opened the door askew, so you could see out but couldn’t be seen.

You needed to call Aisha inside but found yourself hesitating. The words struggling to make it past the lump in your throat. He hadn’t done anything yet, so if you acted like before, then maybe he’d do nothing, it was your best shot at least. Even so, you hands grew clammy as you thought to keep your voice from shaking.

“Hey Aisha!” you called out, watching her from the creek of the door. You worried that if she could see your face, then she’d be able to see your fear, barely concealed. “Could you come help find the basket?”

“Did you check by the fireplace; it might have one?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“Maybe there isn’t one, then? Just come out and we’ll carry i-“

“No! Um, I’m sure, yes. Ms. Browning mentioned a basket at some point,” you interrupted hastily. Worry crept up that you had let panic color your voice in a far too obvious way. You swallowed. “It’ll drive me crazy if I just give up, please, just a quick look?” You pleaded.

“Alright, if it’s that big of a deal to you.” Aisha shrugged. You held your breath as she approached, only able to breathe once she was inside, no looming figure following as far as you could see. She opened her mouth, but you didn’t even let her form words before you spoke.

“Aisha, there’s someone outside.”

Maybe there was more delicate ways to share this fact. Ways that didn’t make her bemused expression shatter like that. But you didn’t have time to navigate that kind of delicacy. Aisha furrowed her brows, tentatively glancing at the door.

She looked back at you, as if hoping to find a trace of insincerity or joking but faltered as she found nothing of the sorts. Neither of you said anything else as you locked the door and joined the others in the living-room.

They had finished their call already and was standing back-to-back. You assumed it was to avoid getting snuck up on, though they were left with two blind sides.

Any words one might have ushered, choked in the tension, and instead all of you stood together silently, anxiously.

None of you knew how long time went before the cop arrived, though it couldn’t have been long. Even so, each moment felt like an eternity, as frazzled nerves turned every sound of the forest into a foreboding sign.

So, at the sound of wheels, all of you hurried to the door. A cop car that looked like something from a period piece, revealed what must have been a lackluster budget at the tiny station. Out of the car, a middle-aged man stepped out, using his hand to move his long hair aside.

“Hey kiddos.” He greeted them as he approached, stopping a little past the firewood. His voice had a condescending tone to it. “I’m Mr. Davidsons, so y’all say you saw a perp?”

“Well, we saw – or, well, they saw – a strange man walking around here.” Aisha explained, stumbling over her words. At this Mr. Davidson lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly.

“Did anyone else actually see someone? Or was it just this one there?” He laughed, it was a somewhat unpleasant sound, grating in the way only an adult’s dismissive tone could be, doubly so given all of you were adults.

“Sir, I’d be happy if it was just me being paranoid but…” Your eyes darted around nervously scanning the area. You wondered if the car alone might have scared him off. “I saw a man. He looked really big and strong.”

Those words didn’t seem to do much in the way of convincing. “You guys city folks? Out here in the country, especially this lively piece of forest, there’s plenty of critters. You probably just saw an ugly bear.” He snorted.

Sara looked about ready to school him but all of you froze when he appeared. This time he didn’t simple stand or walk aimlessly around, he was heading straight towards them, though you couldn’t see his face clearly from his red hair and hunched posture, you spotted glimpses of a white mask.

Mr. Davidson noticed the way all of your attention had shifted, and following your eyes, he faced the hulking mass making his way towards them all.

“Sir, this is the police, stay where you are.” Mr. Davidson said. He was much more serious now that he realized there was someone. He was on guard, his hand ready to draw out his gun, you noticed the way his hand shook, and felt any sense of security vanish, as you watched the pale, sweaty cop attempt to talk down to what felt like a monster of a man.

Similarly, he didn’t seem very convinced by Mr. Davidson either, as he only made a grunting sound and continued his slow gait forward, stray pieces of firewood being kicked out of the way. “Sir, I’m serious. If you continue moving, I’ll consider it contempt of a police officer.”

But he only got closer. Mr. Davidson held out his gun when the man was within arm-reach. A proximity that left your guts churning. However, the man did stop, a fact that made Mr. Davidson breathe a sigh of relief, as the man spread out his arms. Perhaps it was the way it made him look bigger and emphasized the sheer size of his arm muscles and shoulders, but you felt more threatened by it, though Mr. Davidson just nodded in approval at what he perceived as a sign of submission.

And then an axe nestled into Mr. Davidson’s neck.

Someone shrieked, a shrill and piercing sound. Then you realized it was yourself. The man grabbed the axe’s handle, but instead of nestling it free, he forced it to slice through the rest of Mr. Davidson’s neck, freeing the axe.

Mr. Davidson’s head thumped to the ground, rolling slightly.

You felt a pull on your arm, flinching until you realized it was Jake pulling you the last few steps toward the door, before shutting it close, and locking.

“Oh my god, oh my god-“Aisha was breathlessly chanting, intercut with small “what the hell”, unable to provide anything more poignant. Sara, who had been no worse for wear, straightened up at this. She took Aisha’s hand, and though nothing else was said, Aisha seemed to be reeled back to her senses, enough to break up the broken chant.

“We don’t have time to waste.” You said, fishing out your phone. Your hand shook so badly that it took a few tries to unlock. “Call the police?” you asked, which Sara scoffed at.

“Right, that turned out great last time.”

“They didn’t take us seriously last time, but now we got a dead cop on our hands. Who else are we gonna call, the fire department?”

“Please just make the call, before he gets in.” Aisha requested, anxiously looking around, Sara relented with a nod. You only got halfway through dialing the police’s number before it was interrupted by a call, which you accidentally accepted.

“Shoot.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Ms. Browning responded drily.

“Ah, Ms. Browning. Sorry, this isn’t a good time. Actually, could you call the cops?” The less time they had to stay in one place, the better.

“The cops?”

“Yeah, there’s some crazy freak out here, Ms. Browning. He killed a cop!” Jake said panicked. “It’s some huge dude with a mask.”

“After all this time. He’s still…” Ms. Browning didn’t sound surprised, only forlorn.

“What does that mean? Did you… know about him?” At this, Ms. Browning laughed joylessly.

“I left him here in the woods, decades ago. Anyone else would have died. Ah, but not little Trevel. Instead, he grew.” She was quiet for a beat before continuing pensively, her voice distant, “These woods are… Unusual. Things don’t grow right here. Why, my little Trevel was my height by the time he turned five.”

“Trevel?”

“I wasn’t ready for a baby, you see. That’s why… I figured the next year, when I prepared this place for renters, it would be over, no corpse left, no baby left. Just life back to normal. But it wasn’t. He was still here.

He’d stare. Just following dumbly along, staring at everything I did. I couldn’t stand those inquisitive eyes, I didn’t ask for any of that, you know?  When he was four, to avoid seeing those cursed eyes, I gave him a mask, told him never to take it off, and what would you know? Seems he grew up right along with the mask.”

“Grew up along the… Huh? Ms. Browning, we’re not following?”

“It couldn’t be taken off, as if it had grown into his face. I suppose it might have, what with his growth spurt and all.” Was all the clarification Ms. Browning gave, as she continued recounting, as if in a daze. “At first, I was… Startled. But you can get used to all manners of things, when the surprise settled, I was just relieved. The mask didn’t have a mouth, so, surely he’d starve to dead.” She lamented. “But no, oh no, not my little Trevel.” There was a bitter edge to her voice. “He was always a good-for-nothing kid, couldn’t even do something as trivial as die.”

Somehow, disgust was all you could feel for Ms. Browning.

“That’s… Horrible.” Aisha said quietly. All of you looked at each other for a moment. Evidently, Ms. Browning agreed to Aisha’s words, sighing deeply.

“So, it is. This was a mistake, returning here like this. I won’t make it again; this’ll be the last time this house is used.”

“You’ll call the cops, right Ms. Browning?”

“Some things are better kept hidden, kiddo. I’m truly sorry but… Goodbye.” And then she hung up. All of you stood in stunned silence for a bit. But you didn’t have time for stunned silence. You began dialing the police’s number again but stopped in your tracks at the sound of weight violently thrown at the door.

“Are you kidding me,” Sara whispered, “We wasted what little time we had on Ms. Browning?!”

As if to answer her question, you were blinded for a moment, as an axe nestled into the door. Then another hit. None of you waited till he was able to enter through the destroyed door, before running. You and Jake hid behind the dresser, while Sara, still holding Aisha’s hand, pulled them into the small pantry-room.

You looked once more at the clumsily written “Trevel” but didn’t have long to look at it before your focus was forced elsewhere, as Trevel himself emerged from the hall, with the sound of his axe dragging against the floor.

You held your breath, as thudding footsteps carried the guy through the room. Your close proximity allowed you to make out that the dirtied jacket enveloping his figure seemed to actually be multiple articles of clothing, sewn crudely together, or… Not sewn, that wasn’t quite right.

There were no stitches or strings to see, despite the clumsy, crude nature, rather, it looked as if the clothes had simply melted together. He turned around, allowing you a clear look at his face.

Or it would have, had his face been visible.

The white you had spotted earlier seemed to have been the mask, which covered his entire face. A white, round mask, decorated only by dirt. You couldn’t see where the mask ended, and his face began.

You felt your phone vibrate against your leg. Taking it out, carefully using your hand to cover the light of the screen, you saw a text from Sara.

Cop car still here. Sneak out.

Right, that’s right. It was still out there. You could drive away. You and Jake were close to the entrance, it was feasible that you’d be able to sneak out as long as Trevel didn’t turn around. The harder challenge was for Sara and Aisha, the pantry-room further into the room.

You shot a quick text back. Me and Jake will go when you reach the dresser.

Slowly, you saw Aisha and Sara emerge from the pantry. Carefully placing each step to avoid the creak of floorboards, trying to move whenever Trevel took another thundering step, to mask their own sounds. Trevel flipped the couch, and you flinched.

Sara and Aisha rounded a corner and reached the kitchen island, receiving a natural cover. Once they made it past the kitchen island, they’d almost be by the dresser. It would be doable to get away. Trevel turned around, and your heart sank as he got closer to the kitchen island.

You still had your phone in your hand, so you tossed it. When it hit the wall, it caught his attention, causing him to stop up and turn around. They just needed to wait, hopefully he’d walk towards the sound… Wait, what are they doing?

Sara tugged on Aisha’s hand, and they began sneaking away under Trevel’s inattentiveness, an arm reach away from him. Trevel lifted his foot, and you felt relief, he was going to investigate your bait. The relief was visible on Jake’s face as well, Sara had made it past the kitchen island, Aisha not far behind, and then…

A crass, clicking sound.

Aisha had stepped on the remains of a shattered plate.

A large hand shot out, grabbing Aisha’s face, forcing her glasses to shift awkwardly and press into her face. When he lifted his arm, you witnessed the way Aisha’s entire body were left to dangle helplessly in the air, forcibly separating her and Sara’s hands, and then… He tightened his grip.

The glasses bent and broke, glass and frames cutting into her skin, and her skin seemed to cave under his fingers, blood pooling around them as they sunk into flesh, white bones protruding through skin as if pushed away from their rightful spot.

Aisha’s whimpers and cries of pain were replaced by a painful gurgling as her nose caved into her mouth. After a while, her body stopped moving at all. And he simply let go of her, her limp body falling to the ground awkwardly.

It had all happened too fast for any of you to react, but the sound of her body hitting the floor brought you all to action, running as fast as you could. Though he pursued, it was a relief to know all of you were faster.

You swung the doors open once you reached the car, able to see Trevel’s silhouette move through the windows of the entrance. “What’s the hold up, Jake?”

At that question, Jake looked up at them. “There’s no key.”

What. If it wasn’t in the car, then that meant…

Instinctively all of you looked at Mr. Davidson’s headless corpse. And only a few meters behind, stood the hulking figure of Trevel, having reached the door.

“I’ll go get the keys.” Sara said, to which you and Jake shook your head furiously. “Please, back in the kitchen, I pulled Aisha too fast, and she… Let me do this, okay? I am the fastest, after all.” She said with a weak smile. You didn’t have the heart to point out the tears in her eyes.

Sara made a dash towards Mr. Davidson’s body, basically throwing herself at him. Trevel, similarly, made his way towards her. It was true that Sara was faster than him but that meant very little with such a small distance.

She fumbled through Mr. Davidson’s pockets, when he descended upon her. A sickening crunch as his foot crushed her ankle. Sara howled in pain. Then he moved further up, delivering a stomp to her back, pressing her against the corpse.

You could have sworn you saw the mushy flesh of Mr. Davidson give in, but maybe it was just your imagination adding to the wet, snapping sounds mixed with that same sickening crunch. Even so, she still desperately clawed at Mr. Davidson’s pockets.

You didn’t have time to react when he had gotten Aisha, but there was no way you’d just watch now.

You jumped out of the car, and though you didn’t look, you could hear the sound of Jake following along. Finding one of the larger wood pieces, you charged at him.

You swung the wood at him with all your might, but he barely seemed to notice, instead shoving you away like a pesky fly. You were flung to the side, and crashed into something hard and metallic, the sudden loud humming noises suggested it had been turned on.

You felt a sharp pain in your foot, having landed on it wrong, and struggled to stand up again, leaning against the machine, that turned out to be the woodchipper, for support.

Meanwhile, Sara had fished out the keys but with Trevel looming above her, reaching out, she didn’t wait for his next move. It wasn’t a meaningful act of defiance or defense, but an act of someone too close to the jaws of a predator to escape, but close enough to rip and tear. Sara flew towards Trevel, grabbing onto the edges of his mask.

Trying to tear the mask off. You didn’t know what had gone through Sara’s head as her fingers to the corner of face – and you assumed, the mask – you only knew that she gasped and let go as if on instinct. “But… It’s a mask?” she feebly whispered, confusion on her face.

Though Sara had lost her grip, there was no chance of falling as Trevel held onto her, drawing her closer. Sara struggled but was rendered immobile by the tight grip. Even from the sidelines, it was easy to see the way the grip tightened, to hear the sound of metal bending as Sara’s accessories caved under the pressure, the way her breathing grew ragged and wheezing, hear the sounds of bones and joints snapping.

You had managed to get up but was struggling to keep balance, that wasn’t the case for Jake who was ready to rush at them. Sara, through ragged, bloody breaths, yelled for him to stop, forcing her awkwardly bending arm to shoot out, throwing him the keys.

Jake looked between Sara, who had taken to wildly flailing, punching, clawing, till her fingers were left bloody, and you. He stood there for a second before, with a conflicted expression, running to you, Neither of you looked as Sara’s pained sounds turned to gurgles, or when she stopped making sounds altogether, instead Jake dragged you to the car.

” We’ve been outrunning that freak the entire night, so…” He swallowed and steadied his breath before continuing, trying to be strong, as if he wasn’t as shaken up as you were. “If we just make it to the car, everything will be okay. If we can outrun him on legs, then we can outrun him on wheels.”

Even as you heard Sara’s body being dropped, Jake didn’t let go of you, making sure you got into the car. He didn’t even circle around the car, simply crawled over you, and into the driver’s seat. He put in the keys. You could see Trevel’s bloodied mask, the remnant of Sara’s vomit.

The engine coughed. Jake hit his hand against the steering wheel. And then, the car started. You laughed, not out of joy but from the adrenaline pumped relief. The car moved backwards, Trevel’s charging figure growing smaller.

“Fuck yeah!” Jake hollered out. “An old, stubborn car but you got the job done, hah!”

None of you mentioned Sara. None of you could bear to. Not yet.

“Jake, we’re going to have to turn around.” You said, looking behind at the countless sturdy trees. It was a narrow, winding road. They wouldn’t be able to do it backwards. Jake cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay. I don’t need to drive all the way back to the house to have enough room, just a bit closer.” He said reassuringly, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure. The dull, warm pain in your foot only seemed to grow.

Jake drive forward but before the house even came back into view, from the shadow-covered bushes, a large figure emerged, only meters away. You weren’t sure if Jake intentionally rammed into him or weren’t able to stop the car in time, but the hood of the car hit the figure with a loud thud.

And he hadn’t budged. You could vaguely make out a huge dent in the now-still car, and the small, sad stutters the car made from the impact. The large figure reached behind his back, but his body remained completely still, fixated on them.

Jake’s hands were shivering; “Jesus chr-“

“No time for prayers.” You interrupted, shifting in your seat to grab the reverse gear and stump on the brake pedal, pain shooting up your leg, the car moved backwards in a sudden jolt. Trevel held up his axe. He lifted it into the air, and as the car began to move away, he swung it into the hood.

The car were making concerning wheezing noises but by now, Jake’s adrenaline had returned to spur him into action, and he forced the car to continue. To your shared horror, the car didn’t budge. The wheels spinning helplessly as the car was kept in place.

Then he pulled the axe closer, dragging the car closer with a screech. You and Jake didn’t even exchange glances as you both flung your respective car doors open, jumping out. Jake couldn’t make it over to you, without Trevel who stood in front of the car, making it to you, so you both ran on your own, even as your foot ached and bent oddly, a searing fire spreading.

But you noticed, Jake hadn’t run away from Trevel and the house, but towards the house. It was a long travel to make it to any actual road and it was getting very dark, was that why? But even so, Jake had a phone on him, still – unlike you.

You didn’t know why he hadn’t run that way, but you changed your own course, rushing to him. You couldn’t be separated now. Not after Aisha and Sara. Jake, disorientated from the crash, was losing his speed advantage, the distances between the two far too little for comfort, as Jake had reached the firewood pile.

You made eye contact with Jake, whose eyes widened. “What are you doing? Run away, I’m buying time!”

So that was why. He had just hoped you wouldn’t notice in time. But the moment of distraction meant Trevel, who was steadily becoming the fastest of the two, caught up to him. He grabbed onto him, and you half-expected him to crush him like he had Aisha and Sara, instead, he shoved Jake against the woodchipper.

As Jake’s arm and shoulder disappeared into the machine, his face twisted into a pained grimace, and a red mist of blood, minced meat, and viscera descended from the machine with splintered bone shards like macabre snowflakes. You didn’t even think as you continued running, you should have had half-the-mind to at least curse yourself out for wasting the sacred seconds he had sacrificed.

Yet all you could think was you needed to get him out. Only as his face were pressed against the machine, did you stop up. You felt your stomach churning as the metallic smell coated the air. Trevel seemed to spend a moment just looking at the shredded innards and minced remains of Jake.

Then he flexed his finger around his axe and turned towards you. So, you ran.

But you had gotten too close, so running in the opposite direction of him meant running towards the house. Going past the house would mean venturing further into the forest, further away from any civilization. You didn’t fancy your chances with coyotes, and you didn’t fancy your chances with Trevel.

Maybe that instinctive desire to escape to something civil made you run into the house to hide, you’d like to think it was a strategic choice, somehow. But you knew that wasn’t the case, you just sought the familiarity.

Inside the house, you dashed upstairs, worried he’d be able to break down a wall or window in any room downstairs. You could hear him by the time you closed the door, and for a second debated if it was best to be silent and hide, but then again, you didn’t have many hiding places in this room.

What you did have was a dresser. So, knowing how it would lead him upstairs, you desperately pushed the dresser in front of the door. Then the bed. Anything you could get hold of in the room was pushed in front of the door.

And then you scurried to the other end of the room, trying to ignore the fiery burn of your foot. You heard his approach but still jumped when the axe cut into the wooden door. Your breath grew ragged, as his masked face showed through the cracks.

You didn’t know what you had hoped for from this barricade. It wasn’t a surprise that filled you, when the furniture moved along as he shoved the door. Even so, the world seemed to blur out the second he stepped into the room, from ruined and moved furniture that now seemed more a barricade for you than him.

Your heartbeat rang out, thump thump. He was closing in with heavy footsteps. Thump, thud, thump, thud. Even with the mask, you felt his eyes on you. Thump, thud, thump, thud. You could see his fingers flex around the axe.

Grasping at straws, you shifted between staring at him and around you, for anything you could use. Behind him, a now ruined dresser stood. Its familiar look made you realize it was identical to the one downstair. “It’s an ugly name, fit for ugly boys.”

…It was worth a shot, right?

“My,” your voice were shaky, “What a handsome guy you are.”

Was that how she said it? He stopped dead in his tracks. He was so close; you could touch him if you reached out. The air felt crushing, under the weight of silence. Then, he crouched down. Your shivers stopped, frozen.

He leaned closer. His free hand on the floor to support his weight as he leaned closer. Your eyes flickered to the axe. He was still holding it.

“I,” your voice cracked but you forced yourself to continue, “I didn’t get a good look before. But, really, you are handsome. Big and strong.”

He was close. You could smell the lingering scent of sweat and pine. Hear the deep rumbling hum he made. Feel his warmth breath. From where it came, you weren’t sure.

God, what else? What else did Mr. Browning say?

Suddenly, a hand reached out and you flinched. He had let go of the axe. And yet, you had seen what he could do with his hands. Your breath were stuck in your throat, as you braced yourself. But his hand only lingered near your cheek.

Not quite touching, but close enough for you to feel the warmth of his fingertips. This… Was a good sign, right? He was hesitating, he didn’t do that with the others. He didn’t do that with Aisha. The anxiety buzzing didn’t ease, the gory memory playing relentlessly in your head.

In your mind you envisioned the way his hand could still decide to grab onto you harshly. So, gently with fingers that shook far too much, you touched his hand. His head made a sharp movement, causing you to flinch, but he didn’t stop you.

So, you lead his rugged, scarred hand closer to your cheek, closing the small gap. His fingers stiffly on your cheek, which was better than lingering above your face. Like playing dolls, you hoped positioning him into a less hostile position would have any effect.  

You looked at each other for a while in deafening silence. You were worried about losing the temporary fascination, the stiffness of his body warning you that you weren’t quite safe yet. What is it that worked so far? What does he want to hear?

…

“You’re good, Trevel. You’re good.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond or react. Then the touch seemed to melt, his finger brushing against your cheek. Not pleasant or even soft, but you could tell he was trying, or maybe he was just exploring? You didn’t dare to move, worried you’d set him off.

By the time his hand dropped down, light had begun to filter through the tree leaves, and exhaustion clinging to you. Trevel seemed placated, simply staring wordlessly at you.

Cautiously, you stood up. You could feel the way he followed your every movement. But it felt like a curious gaze, like a dog equally confused and curious about its owner’s actions. You weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you leaving, but if you could buy yourself some time, perhaps you’d be able to get to a road and hitchhike.

“I’ll just go fetch something, if that’s okay?” You asked carefully, taking a demonstrative step towards the door.

Swish

Past your head, the axe flew, nestling into the door. Before you even could look back at him, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the floor, a little too harshly for your injured foot, where he returned to simply stare at you, growling whenever you moved too much.

Life was far away, and by god, you hoped it would someday catch up to you again.

[geddy-leesbian]

quick 3,298 word lil Luis backstory oneshot

Luis is scooped off the streets by a woman who wants to get him into a special boarding school where all his wildest dreams could come true…

on ao3 or under the cut

Luis quickly adapts to life on the streets. He learns where not to sleep, he learns the most profitable street corners to play guitar for tips. 

There's a few homes in the city that are sympathetic enough to feed an orphan some scraps if he knocks, but sympathy only goes so far and dries up if he tries hitting the same home too often. He gets it down to a science, exactly how frequently he can knock at each door without wearing out his welcome. His favorite house is an old lady that seems especially fond of him. He gets some snacks and a glass of water to have on her porch on nice days, and when the weather is bad she invites him inside for a warm meal and a mug of hot chocolate. 

Between the money he gets from tips and the people who give him food, he goes to sleep with a full belly every night, tucked away in one of the hiding spots he'd learned were reliable– places that were dry and where no one would disturb him.

His thirst for knowledge is satisfied too. While he won't attempt to get his own library card, fearing they'll ask for personal details that will get him sent off to some orphanage, he goes into the library and spends hours reading. He's pretty sure the librarians catch on that he's not in a normal child's situation, but he's quiet and well-behaved, so they never confront him. Sometimes one of them will even give him an apple out of her lunchbox. 

There's one nice lady that he sees while playing guitar regularly, and always stops to wordlessly give him a generous tip. One day she stops and talks to him. She takes him to a restaurant and tells him he can order anything he wants, as much as he wants. Then peppers him with questions. 

She wants to know where he's from, does he have family, his entire life story. He proudly boasts about how he's only 12 years old and made it from a tiny village in the mountains all the way to a city all by himself, with only some old maps to guide him. He's worried she wouldn't believe him, but she keeps smiling and nodding while he talks. She asks why he goes to the library all the time. He counters and asks how she knows that. Apparently she knows one of the librarians and they mentioned the strange kid who came in every day, and that they suspected he was coming in because he was homeless and it was the only building he could go into for a break from wandering the streets. 

That surprises Luis, and he insists he likes the streets just fine and only goes in because he loves to read. She must think he's too stupid to enjoy reading! There were so many things he hated about Valdelobos, and one of the things he hated the most was that everyone except his grandfather and Méndez thought he was stupid. He knew he was smart, he read every book he could get his hands on, in a village with very poor literacy. He knew things that almost no one else in the village did. But did anyone care? No! All they did was pick on him and criticize his grandfather for raising a useless boy. He didn't know how to farm or fish. Despite going with his grandfather hunting all the time, he still didn't know much about hunting. (He'd try, he really did, to pay attention when his grandfather explained things, but his mind always wandered elsewhere while his grandfather's words went in one ear and out the other.) Luis knew a lot, but didn't know anything useful, so that meant he was stupid. 

He doesn't want this lady to think he's stupid. He wants her to know that he goes to the library to read, not just to sit inside uselessly. Trying to prove that, he starts rattling off the titles and authors of books he's enjoyed.

“You like to learn then?” Luis nods. “How would you like to go to school?”

Luis's eyes almost pop out of his head. School!

He has the biggest grin on his face while she explains that she works for a pharmaceutical company called Umbrella, and they have a boarding school she thinks Luis might fit in at. She pulls some papers and a pencil out of her purse and slides them across the table. It's a test, and she has Luis take it right then and there as he eats.

He's a little bit terrified when he finishes. He thinks he knew most of what was on it, he tried to read about as many different subjects as possible, but isn't that sure. What if he blew his chance to go to school? Suddenly the street life isn't enough for him, he needs to go to school, just as intensely as he needed to leave Valdelobos. One lesson the streets have taught Luis is the power of tears. Maybe if he begs and cries enough she'll give him a second-

He doesn't need a second chance. She looks the finished test over, then looks at Luis and smiles. She tells him everything he wants to hear. That he is special. How impressive it was for a homeless 12 year old with no formal education to ace a test like this on the spot. That he's a genius, and certainly would have already graduated and employed in a high position at Umbrella by now if he hadn't been stuck in an isolated village. Really, it just boils down to what everyone wants to hear: He is special. No delusions of grandeur here, just actual grandeur. 

She pulls out more papers. Contracts he has to sign to attend a special Umbrella boarding school just for child prodigies like him. He won't be homeless, he'll be given a room to sleep in, food will be provided, as well as a small wardrobe of uniforms and sleepwear. No cost. In fact, they'll give him money; as long as he does well in his classes, he'll be given a small stipend to spend however he wants.

There's so much text on the contracts, but she tells him he doesn't need to read it all, it's just a formality really. He'll go to this school, then he'll graduate and immediately begin working for Umbrella as a researcher. He signs every dotted line, having no idea he just made a deal with the devil.

After he finishes his food and a hot chocolate, she takes him shopping. First is a basic set of pajamas for tonight and a basic outfit for him to wear until he gets his Umbrella uniforms. The next stop is a bookstore. She tells him to pick a book, any one he wants. A brand new book that no one has ever read before, just for him. A fancy edition of Don Quixote catches his eye, but he resists out of a desire to stay in this woman's favor. Instead he picks out a medical book full of pictures, hoping the intellectual choice will impress her. He also asks if he can get a notebook and something to write with. He wants to start writing a diary, like his grandfather was always doing. 

Not only does she agree, she takes Luis to an art supplies store and lets him pick out a very fancy notebook, and sets of pencils and pens, some plain and the rest in every color of the rainbow. 

Finally the whirlwind day comes to an end. The nice lady starts driving, explaining a little bit more about the school. 

France.

Paris. 

That's where Luis is going to go school. He's seen pictures in books. The small city he lived on the streets of was already completely mind-blowing to the little boy from little Valdelobos, Paris is going to overwhelm him, and he's never been more excited for anything in his life.

But of course he has to be patient. The nice Umbrella lady is going to escort him herself, a journey split between car and plane, but they won't leave until the next morning, which feels like an impossibly long time to Luis. She gets him set up in a hotel room and he takes a hot shower for the first time in his life. Then he crawls into a gigantic bed with the softest sheets and blankets he's ever felt and falls asleep fantasizing about Paris, about school. He imagines it like the old Salazar castle, because that's the closest thing to a boarding school he's encountered himself. He's not sure how accurate his imagination is, but he does know that it's going to be amazing. 

In the car and on the plane, Luis devours his new book and writes a bit in his journal. In English. He's taught himself a fair amount of the language, but could definitely use some practice writing it. He'll probably have to learn French too, which excites him because he loves to learn anything. When he's done writing, he turns his attention to the car radio, flipping through stations. He likes the songs in English, they're so different from the music back in Valdelobos. 

There's one song that's amazing, so unlike anything he's ever heard. It's not even the catchy music, made by instruments Luis can't even identify, that grabs Luis's attention so strongly, it's the words . Lyrics about rejecting religion to choose freewill. He's pretty sure it would incite an angry mob clamoring to burn someone at the stake. 

He's a little bit disappointed when they arrive. He saw so many cool buildings on the way, buildings as castle-like as the ones in his imagination, buildings out of fairytales. 

And none of them are the school. It's a huge but sleek, modern looking building. While it would have impressed Luis 24 hours ago, it feels lackluster to the current Luis whose imagination had run wild with what were likely unrealistic expectations. 

Even worse, the sleek building he's looking at isn't even the school. While they walk into the lobby, the nice lady explains that there's actually two different Umbrella facilities on the property. The above ground part of the building he saw is Umbrella Europe’s largest laboratory. The special boarding school he's going to attend is in the basement. No bedroom with a window. But despite his disappointment, Luis keeps smiling and nodding while the lady walks him through a maze of hallways, because he does want an education, and this might be his only opportunity to get one. And there's at least a purpose to it. The school is attached to another laboratory so students can begin doing occasional, basic lab work to start gaining hands-on experience before graduating.

What does impress Luis is just how clean everything is. And cleanliness is foreign to Luis. Everything in Valdelobos was dirty. Everything. It was like everyone and everything in the place magnetically attracted dirt. Even after getting out of there, Luis was constantly covered in a layer of grime, just part of life on the streets. Which makes the sparkling clean surfaces all the more shocking to Luis. They're so clean and shiny that Luis's reflection looks back at him when he looks at the walls or floor.

The classrooms are just as sleek and cutting edge as the labs, with sparkling clean white desks that each have a computer built into them.

His bedroom is really tiny. On the left wall is a desk and shelves, and there's a bunk bed on the right. There's only a narrow strip of floor between them. Thankfully he doesn't actually have to share such a tiny space with someone else. The school truly takes only the best of the best. If there were enough candidates, then there would be two students per room. But this year they hadn't been able to find enough students that met their high standards, so there's enough space that each student gets their own room to themselves. It's still disappointing, but nothing Luis can't handle. 

Life in the boarding school is harder than life on the streets. On the streets, he was free. He could go where he wanted when he wanted and no one stood in his way. He answered to no one. His only responsibility was making sure he found someone who would take pity and give him free food, or making enough in tips to buy something to eat. 

Now he has people to answer to, and an absurd workload. Every week day consists of him going to class for a few hours, then getting food to take back to his room to eat while he works on assignments and studies until he can't keep his eyes open anymore. 

But Luis doesn't mind the brutal workload and expectations, because for the first time in his life he feels like he truly belongs somewhere. None of his peers look down on him. The statement that the boarding school would produce the best candidates to be Umbrella's future without regard for gender, race, background, sexuality, or creed was accurate. Luis could tell that most of his classmates weren't cut from the same cloth that he was– they were whiter than him and from wealthy families– but Luis didn't feel that it mattered to anyone here. He was treated exactly the same as everyone else was. His peers weren't just neutral to him, they were friendly. Not only was he no longer an outcast, he was almost popular. There wasn't much time to socialize, but whenever there was a free moment, there was no shortage of people eager to talk to Luis, asking him about books and music and all the normal mundane things he's craved to converse about as long as he can remember. And while his teachers are cold and harsh, they're like that to everyone, not just him; not even the blond, blue eyed boys from rich families are given any slack, they're pushed just as hard.

And weekends do offer a reprieve from the brutal grind. Usually he wastes Friday night most or Saturday just catching up on sleep and giving his mind a rest, but Sunday gets more eventful. He thought that Vanessa would go back to Spain doing whatever it was she was doing with her life before plucking Luis off the streets. But she stays in Paris. She sees Luis often. Sometimes she checks in on him briefly during the week, but Sundays are special. She picks him up from the school, going wherever he wants. Usually he likes to sightsee in the city, or go on a hike more out in nature, getting him the fresh air he desperately craves throughout the week. 

He also asks to go shopping regularly. For music, usually. He can listen to CD's while studying in his room, so he begins building a collection. Eventually he finds it – the song he'd heard on the radio and fallen in love with. He buys the rest of the band's albums too. (One has a song about an angry mob fearing and wanting to destroy things they don't understand, which hits a little too close to home. The residents of Valdelobos are exactly the type of people the song is criticizing.)

To celebrate finishing his first year at the top of the class, he picks out a shiny new electric guitar for himself. He'd planned to pay for it himself with the allowance money he'd been saving up, but Vanessa jumps in and pays for it, telling him to save his money. 

The break isn't the long summer break normal schools tend to have, it's just one week. It's important that Umbrella's elite students, Umbrella's future, complete their schooling and training as quickly as possible, and giving their minds a several month break to collect cobwebs and dust would undermine that. 

Luis expected to just spend the days off enjoying his new guitar and wandering around outside in the fresh air and then his nights back in his cramped bedroom, but instead Vanessa picks him up and says he'll be spending the week in her home. 

Her house is nice. Shiny new appliances, marble floors, lots of art, a huge flat screen TV, all the things Luis had assumed rich people would probably have. She doesn't live alone. She's married. To another woman. (They're not able to get married legally, but wear rings and refer to each other as wives.) Which offers Luis some nice reassurance that Luis really could flirt with the cute boy he sits next to in one class without being kicked out of the school, socially ostracized, or worse. 

There's a guest room that becomes Luis's room. She insists that it's to be Luis's bedroom, even though he'll only be there for a week. Vanessa and her wife, Alyson, take him on a shopping spree to personalize the room. 

Luis's birthday just so happens to fall within the week break, and Vanessa throws a party. With most of Luis's peers being out of town with their families, the bulk of the guest list is Vanessa and her wife's friends, who are mostly fellow scientists. Luis actually learns a lot; Vanessa's love is conditional. 

Prior to the party, he often took comfort in thoughts about how fond of him Vanessa was. When he got stressed by his schoolwork and started panicking about what would happen if he failed to meet the school's expectations and got kicked out, he would calm himself down thinking that Vanessa liked him enough that she would let him live with her and help him get into a more normal school. 

But that safety blanket is ripped away during the party. Vanessa parades him around the room introducing him to a few people at a time, bragging about how smart he was, how he was just a street rat when she found him and went on to become a model student at the top of his class. 

“Damn, Vanessa, he is a great find. Have you gotten a bonus for him yet?”

“Oh no, not yet. I will, but they don't hand out the child prodigy finder's fee until the child graduates and starts working.”

“You're just spending your own money on him in the meantime?”

“I don't mind, he's at the school 6 days a week and he doesn't ask for much when I do get him. Alyson was wanting to adopt, so this has really been perfect for us. I have to admit I was against adopting, I just thought a random kid from god knows where wouldn't ever be Umbrella material, but here's Luis, from a horrible background and top of his class. I just hope he maintains it. I know it would break Ally's heart sending him away, but I can't keep spending money on him if he flunks out and can't get a position in Umbrella, you know?”

“I know. You're more generous than me for already spending anything on him. I'd wait until…”

Luis walks away before they notice he heard what they were talking about. While it's a distressing revelation, it's one that Luis can learn to live with. As long as Luis keeps his grades up, there will be a place for him in Vanessa's family. Luis can do that. Luis couldn't be what the community of Valdelobos wanted him to be, but he can be what Vanessa wants him to be. 

He can be what Umbrella needs to be. He can graduate at the top of his class and then go on to become a star at Umbrella, curing wasting diseases like the one that killed his grandfather. Luis can do that. 

[the-eeveekins]

The 20th Day of G-Witch: Not the Best Way

Elan & Norea had great chemistry in these short moments, it's just a shame that the more I watch S2, the less I enjoy this little side plot. I think either the time could have been better spent elsewhere or these characters could have been better spent doing something else.

I know Suletta & Miorine barely spending any time together in S2 is a sticking point for many (even myself). That said, you cannot deny that even if they weren't physically together for long, they were almost always thinking about each other and making choices with the other in mind. Even if the relationship isn't on screen as much as we'd like, it undoubtedly is a core aspect of moving the plot forward in S2.

I appreciate that when Miorine went into negotiations with Benerit Group talking points and motivations, the Earthian Delegation immediately told her off and made it abundantly clear she has essentially zero respect or authority as a member of the group.

But it also went to show that, when she dropped the Group's BS, and came to them with something from her company, something she was passionate about that wasn't directly connected to the Benerit Group and was even worked on by Earthians, she made progress towards working together with them.

Here we see a wild tanuki, rummaging through the fridge for some food.

This is arguably my favorite Suletta face in the whole show. Caught in the act digging through the fridge in the dark? Suletta is the most relatable Gundam protagonist ever.

This scene is so important because not only does Suletta realize that she hasn't lost everything, but that Earth House still sees her as a friend, worth caring for even though she's done nothing by lay in bed for days. For a girl who measures her self-worth almost entirely based on how useful she thinks she is to others, having others openly love her just for being her and not for anything she's done is a major boost to her self-esteem and how she values herself.

This was the episode where, even when I was watching it for the first time, I started to dislike Guel. He kind of arrogantly says he doesn't believe her can trust Miorine with negotiations, and then the first thing he does when they arrive it ask Miorine to do them herself so he can chase after some kid. A kid he doesn't seem to eager to help, by the way. I know the Academy is run by Grassley, but as the head of one of the three major companies in the Benerit Group, you'd think he'd try and at least tell the kid he'd see what he could do with his connections, but he's completely dismissive of Seto, despite seeing the conditions on Earth first hand.

At this point it was pretty clear he didn't actually care strongly about Earth and was focused completely on the company. And running off like a hothead to Shaddiq.

One interesting thing in this scene is the implication that Sophie & Norea were members of Ochs Earth even though they were obviously members of Dawn of Fold and had been for some time based on previous information. Ochs Earth (and by extension the SAL) provided the Lfrith Ur and Thorn to DoF for the sake of helping them destabilize the group, likely starting with the Plant Quetta operation. Either it's a weird contradiction, or the implication is that Ochs Earth was training Sophie & Norea as Gundam pilots well beforehand.

Regarding Prospera's dialogue: Obviously she still bears a grudge that GUND medical technology was weaponized by Ochs Earth in order to receive funding to continue development. This not only led to the downfall of the Vanadis Institute and the death of her husband, mentor and colleagues, but with the revelation that Ochs Earth was secretly kept alive by the SAL to continue developing Gundams in secret, it also means that basically everyone responsible for burying the medical technology in the first place got away with it without serious consequences.

And since the Group itself is so behind on developing Gundams thanks to the Cathedra Agreement, Ochs Earth is currently the biggest threat to her plans, as the only way to feasibly stop Quiet Zero would be with a Gundam that could overcome the override. And while finding pilots to stay alive in Score 5 long enough to do it would be difficult, if not impossible, better to wipe out the weapons now on the chance they find someone.

(They did.)

Shaddiq is still an absolute creep when it comes to Miorine.

This is a great shot. You can just barely make out the Aerial ominously floating amid the smoke in the background. It really helps sell that it's now the antagonistic Gundam of the series.

The theme of this episode is that sometimes people make terrible choices with good intentions because at the time it was seemingly the best or only option available. And in truth it's a running theme for a large part of the show. Armed with what she now knows about her mother and Ericht and seeing what's happening, Suletta realized that even though it hurt her, Ericht was only trying to protect Suletta from being dragged into their mother's plans.

And while it's not stated here, presumably she makes the same connection to Miorine's actions.

Aside from the issues with episode 15 in retrospect, I continue to have no problems with the pacing of S2 up to this point. Yeah there's characters who I wish had more screentime or were used better, but the pacing feels fine and it hasn't caused any issues with the story yet. It's really starting next episode that I thought things started to go off the rails a little, and time wasted on side characters really started to affect the main plot.

[mdhwrites]

If Hexside Was Mandated Then Disney Knew TOH's Strengths Better Than Dana

The whole show itself feels much more like plots that can happen at a magical school than it ever does a true adventure show. There are constantly low stakes, very few episodes actually spent exploring the world, and very commonly the obstacles laid out for the characters are inherently non-magical and the magic is only used for flavor.

All of these elements are core to a super school setting (thank you OSP for the term) because, well, you can only make things so dangerous before making them laughable or make the school seem entirely unbelievable. The only times TOH really breaks away from this are commonly in capital P Plot episodes. In S1, there are only 6 episodes that could actually be counted as adventure episodes instead of just being fantasy slice of life/drama like My LIttle Pony or Amphibia was. The focus is never on grandeur but instead just a mundane life thing VERY lightly elevated by its fantasy element.

Of course, that's S1. Low stakes are expected since the plot hasn't really started. It's fine that the head of the Emperor's Coven is doing things like taking a casual walk with her criminal sister or playing mock Grudgby at the same time the school kids are, it's S1! Besides, we have been told by Dana that S1 got meddled with, or at least the first half (neither of the examples I brought up coming from that half) and while we've never had Hexside confirmed as one of those elements, people would argue it doesn't actually count. The vibe changes after S1 after all.

You all know where this is going. Just to demonstrate how completely untrue this is: Luz has, if you REALLY stretch to count Affearances and Eda's Requiem, FOUR plotlines with Eda. Combined, she has about 6, at most, episodes between King and Eda where the focus is on them. Meanwhile, she has SEVEN with Amity. And that's not including the fact that Amity has two episodes where she has plots on her own. If you don't count Falls and Follies, you get 6, which still puts the low stakes, never a part of the plot, love interest who came from the magic school and embodies its elements on par with Luz's 'found family' who are rebelling against Belos.

When the show does ramp up, it's really bad at it. Elsewhere Elsewhen is maybe the most boring time travel episode of anything I've ever seen because it's effectively just a lot talking without any consequence, a twist that's just bad in the grand scheme of things with an unnecessary reveal and the action element is specifically neutralized by not being an actual threat. The finale for S1 has a great action scene but very boring magic we've literally seen before and how Lilith takes out the kids before that is painfully easy and simple. When Luz has to break into the Conformatorium, we don't get to see that. She just... Does it in spite of having magic for maybe a month.

Hollow Mind is a lot of just talking and exposition while people claim there are stakes but the last time people entered a mind makes those stakes a retcon, how they fix it breaks several levels of continuity and the fake out death with Hunter is lame even when just compared with fakeout deaths in general. The combat in S3 is just laughable because it's not actually demonstrably more impressive than in S1 or 2... And even for one of the specials, for a third of its time, the stakes are still ROCK BOTTOM as they deal with a threat they have several times before... For the sake of liberating the school which isn't actually in danger from the threat in question, just mildly manipulated. AND the majority of Season 3, just to hammer this point home, have NOTHING to do with Eda and King, let alone their relationship with Luz.

And why shouldn't this be the case? The show is MUCH more interested in character drama and making social statements than actually telling a story most of the time. It has LOTS of plots that would not feel any different being in Amphibia besides being a kind of boring, toned down episode for it.

All of this is without getting into the logistical nightmare that would have been not having Hexside. Hexside is actually one of the very few efficient elements of TOH. One of the few times TOH doesn't spend an eternity making any progress on something and that actually stays true even into S2. It makes it so a lot of characters can simplify their situation and just move on from introductions than would otherwise be possible.

So yeah, if Hexside was mandated by Disney, A: good on them for doing good work with what was forced upon them since either Hexside episodes, or elements that arose from Hexside, are easily the most popular parts of the show and B: Disney very clearly could tell that Dana was way more equipped to retell Harry Potter's books when it was mostly school drama rather than her ever being able to tell a proper fantasy epic. Not when the last thing I would call TOH, ever, is 'epic'.

It's way too low key for that to have ever been the case.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[chaotic-super]

Back To Krypton - Chapter 43 (The final chapter)

Read it on AO3 here!

Kara lifts her head up from where she was staring at her feet as the pod pulls up outside of the accommodation. She climbs out after reaching over and grabbing her things from the footwell in the front, ignoring the way the Kelex seems to be staring into her soul accusingly as she does so.

Walking to the front door, she unwraps Esme’s jacket from around hers and unravels hers so she can put it on. She doesn’t want to be separated from it now, that wouldn’t be very helpful. She tucks both Esme’s teddy and her jacket under her left arm and reaches out to open the door with her right, Kelex on her tail the entire time.

She walks in to find both her parents and the entire group sitting in the living area, everyone so silent that she could hear a pin drop.

“Hi.” She says to break the awkward air about the room, unsure of what else she can say given their current situation.

Her mother’s jaw tightens and her father’s hands clench into fists around the material of his pants. “Is that all you have to say?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Let’s be honest; we both knew this would happen and had to happen.”

Alura springs to her feet like she’s about to race over to her to confront her, but Zor-El’s hand on her wrist stops her and has her composing herself once more. “Kara, that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. We haven’t trusted each other since we made that deal. I know you wouldn’t give me the crystal, and you’ve always known that I would figure that out and try to steal it.” Kara argues, exasperated because she knows it to be true no matter how much they deny it.

Zor-El sniffs harshly. “I trusted you, Kara. I admit that I’ve known that you don’t trust me all along, but you’re my daughter. No matter how old you are, you’re my blood and I trust you. I wish you could’ve granted us that same honour.”

“So you’re going to tell me you wouldn’t have tried negotiating for more days? Or maybe just not given it to me until we figured out the atmosphere issue?” Kara sits down on the edge of the nearest couch, perched beside Nia. In doing so, she sees little Esme curled up between her parents, obviously nervous, if not afraid. “Can we talk about this in private? She doesn’t need to hear this.”

Her mother shakes her head. “I can’t trust that you don’t have some other plan that requires her to be elsewhere while we are distracted.”

Kara frowns. “I’m not you, mother. I don’t use children to trap or trick people.”

Alura recoils as though she’s been slapped. “I did what I did because I had to, not because I wanted to.”

“No, you didn’t. You could’ve used my beacon to call her without having me there. You arrested her in front of me and I’ll always remember you as the woman who took away my aunt.”

“I sent you into the other room.” Alura tries to argue.

“Do you think a twelve-year-old girl is just going to go without peeking? You didn’t even check that I’d gone. You know what? Never mind. Just let someone take her out of here. She’s just a kid.”

This time, it’s Zor-El that shakes his head. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Kara looks absolutely disgusted as her father stands up and grabs her by the forearm, pulling her across the room to sit beside her mother before he settles in front of her so she can’t escape.

The look she finds herself on the receiving end of is nothing short of pure devastation. “I want to trust you, Inah, but you’ve left me no choice. I cannot allow you to disrespect our family.”

He steps forward and reaches out to grasp her arm again as her mother does the same on the arm closest to her.

“Hey, get your hands off her!” Alex is on her feet and storming over quicker than a bullet from a gun, but she’s still not quick enough because she’s rounded on by both the Kelex from the accommodation and the one from the apartment that arrived with Kara. Their claw hands aren’t anywhere in sight as she’s threatened in a very similar manner to how Kara was back when she tried to steal the safe.

“Keep the…guests at bay.” Alura struggles to find the right word, one that isn’t defamatory.  

The entire team is kept firmly in their seats with the threat of violence looming over them. Kelly curls herself around Esme to try and protect her in case they get trigger-happy.

“Can I at least give my niece her teddy? She’s terrified, look at her.” Kara practically spits the question at the pair, shaking her head as she peers around her father’s form to see the little girl quaking in her mother’s arms.

Zor-El peeks over his shoulder, sees Esme and seems to return back to himself. He looks to Alura. “Maybe we should let her go.”

Alura shakes her head. “We can’t trust them.”

“Look at her, Alura. She’s just a child.”

Sighing and letting the sight of the terrified little girl tug at her heartstrings, Alura addresses a Kelex. “Take the young girl and her mother into the kitchen and keep them there until further instructions. Disarm unless they try to run.”

Kelly relaxes as one floats towards them, now looking a lot less threatening. “Follow.”

She gets up nervously, hoists Esme up into her arms and wraps her up tightly, her heart breaking as she feels her daughter bury her head into the crook of her neck, openly crying from fear.

“This is why I don’t trust you. I used to think you were the greatest people that ever lived, but you’re not. You’re the people that allowed the planet to die when you had the chance to save it. All you had to do was listen to Astra; she could have helped you, but you were too prideful. Now look where she is.” Kara bites her lip as she tries to force back the tears, determined not to show her parents how much this is affecting her.

Zor-El’s previously devastated look is no longer in place. Now, he’s completely unreadable. “We never claimed to be the greatest people, Kara. We’ve always just been your parents.”

“Except for when you abandoned me by sending me to another planet alone with the knowledge that I would be the last of my kind that carries any significant memory of our planet.”

“We haven’t done that yet!” Alura snaps. “You’re holding us to the actions of people we haven’t become yet.”

“You will,” Kara says, her voice low and dark. “That’s inescapable. Even now, you have to do it. No matter what, I must be raised on Earth or else the timeline will collapse. You don’t get to rectify any mistakes you’ve made. If you do save Krypton, that’s great, but you’ll have to live with what you’ve done.”

Alura’s lips press into a stiff line as she holds her tongue. Lena watches from across the room, barely looking at the Kelex that is threatening her. It’s not the first time she’s been on the wrong side of a gun, and it won’t be the last. She can deal with the emotional turmoil of that later. She’s more concerned about Kara.

Screw it. She steps forward, ignoring the Kelex as it speaks to her. “Remain where you are. Remain where you are.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Zor-El asks, arms folded as he takes in the sight of the woman trying to find a way around the floating robot that keeps moving in her path whenever she tries to doge her way around it to get closer.

“I’m going to comfort my girlfriend because her parents are assholes and are terrorizing her.” She snarls. “Move your pet rust bucket out of my way.”

“What is a rust bucket?” He asks with a frown before shaking his head. “Sit back down. This is a family affair.”

Lena’s lip curls. “You’re not her family. Not anymore. We’re Kara’s family, and if you think that we’ll let you stand there and corner her when you’re the ones being unreasonable, then you’re sadly mistaken.

Very quickly, Lena finds herself on the receiving end of a pair of glares that are sharper than a knife in a spear factory. “I suggest you sit back down before we have Kelex open fire.”

“Just do it, Lena. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Kara says, her voice pleading and her lips wobbling. “And that goes for you two as well. I don’t want any of you to get hurt.” She leans to one side to look directly at both Nia and Alex.

Her fingers are playing with the ear of the bear she’s still clinging to. She wishes she could give it to Esme to comfort her, although she’s happy to take care of it and take a little bit of comfort from it herself. If she weren’t so sure that Alex would never let her live it down, she would pull it up into her lap and snuggle it right now. She’d prefer to snuggle Lena more than the bear, but since there are weaponized robots being controlled by her parents, who are nothing short of assholes, that’s not feasible either.

“Now, what did you take from the lab?” Zor-El hardens his gaze as he stares down at his daughter.

Kara shakes her head, her eyebrows pinching. “Nothing. I didn’t take anything.”

“You think I don’t know my own daughter well enough to know when you’re lying, Kara? Don’t insult me. You may not believe we were good parents to you, but we did our damn best and will continue doing our best. We’ve never claimed to be perfect, but we love Kara more than anyone in this universe. I’m sorry you can’t see that, but now we have to protect our daughter and we can’t do that with you here. You’re not our daughter. The little girl currently at school is our daughter. The little girl who runs up to us excitedly when we arrive home is our daughter. Not you. We tried our best to see you that way, treated you like you’re her, but you’re not, so now we have to treat you as what you are.”

“And what’s that?” Kara presses her lips together, holding back the quiver of her lips to not give him the satisfaction.

He shrugs at her helplessly. “You’re a threat.”

“So that’s it?”

“Yes, Kara. That’s it.” He nods. “So what did you take?”

“I didn’t take anything.”

Zor-El’s eyes connect with Alura’s, and with that contact comes a silent message, one she hears loud and clear. They each grasp one of Kara’s wrists and ignore the way she stiffens beneath them. With her held in place so she can’t run, Alura uses her free hand to start searching Kara, and it takes her less than five seconds before her palm makes contact with a crystal through the material of her jacket. “Take it off.”

Kara yanks her wrists free and folds her arms over her chest. “No.”

Zor-El leans into her space. “That wasn’t a request. Need I remind you of the position your friends are in, Kara?”

Gritting her teeth, Kara slides the jacket off. As much as she wants to argue, she won’t do it at anyone else’s expense.

“Was that so hard?” Alura sighs as she starts pulling out the crystals from each pocket of the jacket, honestly surprised by how many Kara managed to store in there. “Rao, help me.” She murmurs.

“How did you get these?” Zor-El demands.

“You should hide stuff better, just for future reference.” Kara leans back, her hands covering her now bare forearms, slightly chilly without her jacket.

Zor-El takes the crystals and piles them up on the couch cushion on the other side of Alura. Once that’s done, he takes the jacket from his wife and checks it over himself to make sure there are no more crystals there. When he’s satisfied that all of them have been removed and that she’s not lying to him, he tosses the jacket onto her lap carelessly before he gathers the small pile of crystals in his arms. “Stay here.”

Kara watches him leave down the hallway with barely contained disdain written across her face, but they have a chance with him gone. She makes eye contact with the other three women in the room that she actually trusts and conveys a silent message.

Now.

Alex jumps into action first, ever the overachiever, and kicks the Kelex squarely in its tinny body. It sends it shooting back towards Kara, who pushes herself away from Alura, grabs Kelex’s arm and shoves the lit-up, weaponized arm into Alura’s chest.

The weapon wasn’t fully charged, so it barely does anything, but the momentary shock of the bolt of electricity she got and the sudden revolt from the group gives them enough time to make a break for it.

Kara is the last out the door, clutching Esme’s teddy to her chest along with her jacket, taking comfort in the items as she meets her mother’s eyes one last time as Zor-El’s footsteps thud along the hallway, having heard the commotion. He’s on his way back so they have to leave now, but she’s frozen. She’s sure this will be her last memory of her parents, and this one is much more traumatizing than the previous last memory she had of them. This time, she knows what they are.

A hand wrapping around her arm has her breaking eye contact with her mom. Her feet unstick and she whips her head around to see Lena’s worried eyes gazing back at her. They don’t have time to dive into it though. They have to go.

Rushing through the kitchen, Kara sees that Alex has been busy. There’s a Kelex on the floor, a knife sitting out of the screen on its face. She stabbed a robot in the face. That’s a very Alex move and honestly, Kara approves.

Alex, Kelly, Nia and Esme are gathered by the door leading out from the kitchen to outside looking uncertain. Kara pushes them all through it and slams it behind her.

“Kara, the crystals.” Kelly pushes out, looking frantic.

“It doesn’t matter. Just run. Go towards the stable and on my signal, you all have to scream as loud as you can and get ready to jump.”

“Jump?” Nia asks, her eyes wide as they start running.

Her question never gets answered over the thudding of their feet and their heavy pants as they run faster than they have ever run in their lives. Except for all of the other times they’ve been in life-or-death situations anyway, they probably ran just as fast then.

They get within fifteen feet of the stable door before they get the signal. “Now!” Kara shouts right before breaking into a scream.

They all join her, unsure of why they’re screaming or what in the world is happening, but still, they trust. They trust and they scream. Not for ice cream, although that would be nice. Nope, they’re screaming for H’Rakas. H’Raka’s that come storming out of the stable doors in a panicked frenzy thanks to the screaming.

“Jump!” Lena tries to sound demanding, but it comes out as more of a screech than anything.

Between the two H’Rakas, they manage to each get at least one hand on their harnesses as they race across the ground, and they’re being pulled right along with them until they get close enough to the accommodation building that the H’Rakas do what the group need them to do and fly.

And so, that’s how they find themselves dangling from a pair of H’Rakas. H’Rakas that are already harnessed up with two packs of their most important possessions strapped to them, one on each beast. On the back of Swoopy, there’s even another guest in the form of a floating, headless Kelex being pulled along by a rope.

They’re not out of the woods yet though, both figuratively and literally. Bolt and Swoopy instinctively fly towards the trees, ready to take them back over the forests and away from Kandor.

Lena manages to climb up and onto Bolt’s saddle just as Alex manages to climb onto Swoopy’s. From there, they start pulling people up until they’re safe, or at least try to.

Alex grabs Kara’s arm, annoyed that she’s still clutching onto the items from before in a bit of a shocked haze. “Come on, Kara. Pull yourself together. We have to get out of here.”

Alex pulls the teddy and jackets out of Kara’s arms so she can climb up behind her right before shoving them into her chest so she can try and get Nia up too. A quick glance over at the other H’Raka and his passengers tells her they’re safe. Lena, Kelly and Esme are all swashed together, Esme between the two women and as safe as they can be given the circumstances.

Knowing that they’re safe and in control of Bolt, Alex stops trying to control Swoopy, trusting that the dragon-like monster will follow the other H’Raka, or at least praying that’s what will happen.

She grips onto Nia’s forearm. “Pass me your other hand.” She yells down at her.

“I can’t.” Nia winces as she tries to use her still-injured hand to get up, slipping more as her other hand gives way a little at a time.

“Kara, help me.” Alex snaps at her sister, prompting Kara to shove the stuff beneath her thighs and actually help, the whipping wind doing wonders for getting her back into the action.

She reaches down and grabs Nia’s injured hand, ignoring her cries of pain. She pulls up, shuffling her onto the harness one inch at a time, eventually trading her hand for her wrist, then her forearm, then her bicep and armpit before she’s lying down across the harness on her belly but still on it nonetheless.

“Signal Brainy,” Kara speaks loudly so Nia can hear her over the wind.

“I can’t!” Nia clutches onto the nearest part of the harness she can, scared she is going to fall but too afraid to reposition herself better.

“For Rao’s sake.” Kara sighs. They have had their little signal button hanging on a thin cord like a pendant, and at no point in this mission has it left Nia’s neck. None of them have argued against this at any point, seeing it for what it is; Nia needs a connection with her boyfriend, who she’s been separated from for months now.

Kara reaches beneath Nia, shoving her hand down the front of her shirt and searching for the signal button with hurried fingers.

“Can you go a little bit fucking quicker?” Alex snaps, looking back to see the lights of what is, quite obviously, a pod coming up behind them.

The button must have fallen into Nia’s bra at some point in the ruckus, and Kara grimaces as she pulls it free before she unlatches the locket-like design of it and pushes the button on the inside with a firm press of her thumb.

It lights up so bright that the white light emitting from it shines through the fabric of Nia’s shirt, but none of them pay it any mind, too concerned with the pod that is gaining on them, a second one not too far behind.

They don’t have to worry though because just as Brainy had promised when they were planning this mission, he’s there in no time at all, a large panel open on one side for them to fly directly into, a panel that closes the second they have landed in the large, open cargo bay of the Legion ship.

Upon being trapped, the H’Rakas panic a little thrashing until Lena and Kara slide off their backs and press their hands to the centre of their heads, comforting them with a firm touch and murmured words of reassurance before they hear Brainy’s voice come booming from a speaker somewhere in the room. “Please make your way to the cockpit immediately.”

Lena grabs some of the straps that are attached to the walls that are used to secure luggage and such in place so she can start buckling the H’Rakas in. She’s making sure they’re safe, they’re part of the team now and she doesn’t have it in her to care about the consequences of taking the equivalent of a dragon back to Earth with them.

While Lena does that, Kara helps everyone down so they can start running to the cockpit, all of them unsteady on their feet since the ship is very much still moving. She presses Esme’s jacket and teddy into her arms before throwing hers on so it’s out of her hands.

“Need a hand?” She asks Lena.

“Nope, it’s done.” Lena presses a hand to her back, pushing her out the door as she shouts back over her shoulder. “Try not to panic, we don’t need you setting anything on fire!”

They skid through the hallways and throw themselves into their seats in the cockpit. “Can we go?” Kara calls out to Brainy, wishing she could see his face. She’s more than willing to just take in the view of the back of his head for now though, she’d like to get off this planet, as sad as she is to be leaving again.

“We have an issue.” Brainy frowns. “The ship is being tethered by some kind of connection and we can’t leave. Our speed has been limited and we can’t get out of the atmosphere if we can’t pick up speed.”

“Can you untether us?” Lena unclips herself and trips her way to his side.

“Yes, but I need to get closer to the source of the connection to do so.”

“I can do that. Hand over the controls.” Kara appears on the other side of him and Brainy gives up his seat, allowing her to sit down while he takes her seat, pulling up a screen and starting to get to work. Lena’s not sure what to do so she hovers for a moment. Kara glances up at her before nodding at her, trying her best to comfort her the only way she can given their lack of time. “Sit down and buckle up. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”

Lena does just that, checking that everyone else is strapped in before she clips herself in. “Ok, we’re all set.”

“Hold on!” Kara yells out before she sets the ship to maximum speed.

She makes an about-turn, which forces the pods on their tail to move out of their way or get hit by a ship that would cause catastrophic damage to them if they made contact at the speed Kara is going.

Speeding towards Kandor, Kara keeps her eyes peeled on the screen in front of her, watching every minute detail as they pass, directing them around trees, rocks and later buildings with a reaction that is much quicker than any of the others could manage. Call it experience; she’s been flying through a densely populated city at high speeds for years. She was made for this.

The Communications Centre is in a really inconvenient place: the city centre. That’s where she’s certain the tether must be from. That’s the only place she can reasonably assume managed to track the ship in such a short span of time, and that also has the resources and technology that allowed them to place the tether in the first place.

She speeds the ship forward, well aware that in a matter of moments, there will be a whole fleet of pods and ships trailing after them, just more things to avoid.

Onwards they fly, cutting through the air and rounding building after building in a precise but slightly chaotic manner.

“Holy shit! Kara, can you chill out?” Alex yelps as she’s thrown sideways in her seat, the seatbelt a little too loose. She yanks on the straps to cinch them in further, afraid that Kara’s driving will make them all snap and they’ll end up in a heap in the corner of the cockpit because she can’t fly a ship nicely.

“We’re flying for our lives here, Alex. Shut up!” Kara shouts, not taking her eyes off their flight path for even a second. She can’t afford to lose her concentration and accidentally fly them into a building or something now. These people might be destined to die but she won’t be the one to kill them.

The team all hang on as tightly as they can as Kara manoeuvres them through the city and around the stream of pods that are aiming directly for them, all of them shining their lights as brightly as possible in what is a clear attempt to blind them and make them stop. That would probably work better if it were dark and if they weren’t up against a ship from the future that has a whole boatload of built-in gadgets and gizmos that help them remain unaffected.

Brainy grits his teeth as he tries to keep his eyes on what he’s doing, blocking out Kara and her driving skills as much as he can. While he recognizes that she has the highest probability of being able to safely manoeuvre them through Kandor, or anywhere on this planet, he’d still prefer Lena be the one to drive. He should have asked her to in hindsight.

“Alright, Brainy, the Communications Centre is coming up. How close do I need to get us?”

“Stay on course. This distance is optimal. Circle around if possible.”

Kara furrows her brow, momentarily letting her mind slip to the H’Rakas and feeling bad for them. She knows they’re slipping about something silly in the cargo bay, even with them strapped in. Hopefully, when they’re out of the atmosphere she can check on them and calm them down.

When the Communications Centre is in sight, she flies right by it before taking a harsh left around a nearby school. It’s best she tries to keep her distance from that one as much as possible. This isn’t a day for the mass murder of children.

“A couple of laps please, Kara. I’ll have us untethered in less than a minute.”

Kara nods to herself and takes a shaky breath. It’s almost over.

Just as she rounds another building, she sees a giant wall of pods blocking her way, and thanks to her instinct not to hurt people, she ends up being forced to pull up, trying to avoid hitting any of them.

There must be at least a hundred pods all lined up to prevent them from passing, and as she climbs higher, the pods also fly up, blocking her from flying over them. “For Rao’s sake, it’s like these people have a death sentence,” Kara mutters before she hits the brakes, slowing them right down at a frightening pace and letting the pods continue climbing for a few seconds, all of them taking a long moment to realize what happened.

By the time they do know what Kara did, it’s too late. She has brought them back down and successfully turned around to go back to circling around the city.

“Almost there! Another twenty seconds!” Brainy calls out an update.

Kara has to slam the brakes on a second time when two pods block their way once again, two very familiar faces manning the ships.

“These people really do not get a hint.” Kara spits out, and there’s enough anger in her voice to prompt the people nearest to her, Lena and Nia, to look over and see what she’s looking at. They were previously just closing their eyes and praying since watching where they’re going only leads to a drastic increase in anxiety and nausea.

Kara can faintly hear Lena saying her name, trying her best to get her attention, but she’s too busy focusing on her parents to answer, a ringing in her ears slowly drowning out her words. She lets off the brake and then hits the throttle, heading right for them.

The ship blasts forward and she sees the rush of realization across their faces as they see that she’s going to force her way past them and pay them no mind. She’s not under their control and they’ve broken their relationship with her, not that there was much of one to begin with. They had their chance at being good parents, but they ruined it. They made their bed, now they have to lie in it.

The ship lurches forward, pushing the pods out of the way. Kara breathes a sigh of relief when she sees the pods simply spin out of control before they stutter to a stop and they both head for the nearest building for an emergency landing. They’re fine. She might hate them, but she doesn’t want them dead.

“Got it! Let’s go!” Brainy shouts. Kara takes no more prompting to angle the ship upwards, and she starts building up their speed. They’re finally leaving.

As they go, the back of the ship takes some minor blasts from a couple of larger vessels that joined in the fun a little too late. They probably would have had an issue if they had gotten to them sooner, but now it doesn’t matter.

They break free of the atmosphere and plummet out into space, where Kara then slows them down enough to swap seats with Brainy once more, allowing him to take over and get them on course back to their time.

Within moments, they’re in the timestream and safely away from any danger. No Kryptonians can follow them here, and they can plan what they will do when they get back to Earth. They still have Lex to deal with, but for now, they can spare a few minutes to fully take in the weight of what just happened—all of it. The past few months have been full of a lot of major events that none of them will forget in a hurry, and it will take time to fully process it all.

As soon as Brainy gives them the all-clear, Nia is out of her seat and throwing her arms around him, dropping herself into his lap and pressing her lips to his. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” His tone is soft, and he reaches out to the still-glowing pendant to turn off the signal. “These past few months have been quite difficult without you. I would not like to repeat that.”

Nia beams down at him, her eyes watering. “Me neither.”

The rest of the team watches their little reunion, each couple wrapping their arms around each other’s waists, taking in the sight of the cute couple reuniting.

“You guys are so adorable.” Kara breaks them out of their little moment, grimacing when she realizes she ruined the romantic moment.

“Thank you, Kara. I agree.” Brainy nods over at her. “And I must say that you and Lena also make a very adorable couple too. I assume you figured out your feelings for each other based on the way you’re pressed into each other.”

“You knew?” Lena baulks. “You knew, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Brainy frowns. “I was under the impression that you were aware of your feelings.”

Lena throws her hands up in the air. “I was. I wasn’t aware of Kara’s though. You could have told me!”

“It wasn’t my place.” Brainy answers simply. “I am pleased you both figured it out though.”

Lena sighs. There’s no point in being annoyed about it. It all worked out for the best. “Oh well. At least we did figure it out.”

“That is a very big plus.” Kara shrugs.

“How did the mission go?” Brainy asks. “Did you get the blueprints?”

The team shares uncomfortable looks before Kelly steps forward, her eyes pinned on Kara. “Did we?”

Kara breaks into a smile. “We did.”

Everyone smiles back at her, barely contained confusion on their faces as they do. Lena nudges her with her hip. “Want to explain what exactly happened back there? I didn’t know you packed the H’Rakas up. How did you even do that without us noticing?”

“Ok, so I’m going to have to explain this a bit at a time.” Kara starts.

“Please do,” Alex says.

“And please tell me what a H’Raka is,” Brainy interjects.

“It’s one of those dragon-type creatures we have in the cargo bay,” Nia explains.

Brainy shoots up from his seat and almost sends Nia sprawling onto the floor. “You kept them? I thought you let them go! We can’t take them back to Earth with us.”

“Sure we can, and we’re going to.” Kara’s voice is firm as she says it. “Bolt and Swoopy are part of the team now and there’s nothing anyone can say that will change my mind.”

“You definitely changed the timeline. There’s going to be a mess to clean up when we get back to Earth.” Brainy complains, sitting back down in a huff.

“Anyway, I packed the H’Rakas up early this morning before anyone was awake, and I opened their stall doors. I used the fact that they’re known to break free from rope when startled to my advantage so we could use them for a quick getaway too. It was a perfect plan.”

“And you packed the one crystal we have?” Lena confirms, proud of Kara now that she’s aware that Kara actually came up with a pretty good plan, one that was actually successful.

Alex grins at her, sharing Lena’s thoughts. “I’m glad part of your plan worked.”

“The other parts worked too.” Kara shrugs. “I meant to get caught at the apartment and the lab.”

“Why?” Alex’s eyes widen dramatically.

“So they wouldn’t think to check the bear.”

In an instant, all eyes are on the bear cradled between Esme’s arms, the little girl grinning almost evilly. “I helped Aunt Kara.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asks, in shock as she takes in the look on her daughter's face.

Esme holds out her bear for Kara to take. “I helped Aunt Kara.”

“She was my little spy.” Kara grins. “Nobody is going to suspect a kid who is playing of shoving important information crystals into their teddy bear. I got my father to get a few of them out when I took Esme with me to the lab the first time under the guise of needing them for research. He counted them all before putting them away, but I stuck a few blank ones in their place. He didn’t suspect a thing because I was too busy being suspicious about other things.”

“You used my daughter to steal?” Alex wants to be angry, she really does, but Kara just came up with a plan that was so good that even she didn’t see through it.

Kara smiles. “I sure did. I figured that if the other plans worked then that’s all fine and dandy, but this was my main plan. I had a plan in a plan in another plan. I wanted to cover all bases and it worked.” She holds up the bear before she unzips the back of it and pulls out several crystals that had been pushed into it. “Now, that’s how you use a bear to smuggle the goods.”

“Holy shit.” Nia laughs. “You got us, Kara. I’m not even mad about it. I have a crazy amount of respect for you right now.”

That leads Kara to take a deep bow, the crystals balanced precariously in her hands. Lena takes them off her, scared she’s going to drop them. “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“How did you plan for us to escape from the accommodation other than the H’Rakas? How did you know we’d get out of there?” Kelly asks.

“I just figured that they’d cross a line at some point and Alex would go all mama bear. That kind of happened, but it was mostly dumb luck there. I couldn’t plan it all, but I did a lot of it covered just in case.”

“I have no idea what happened to you guys out there, but I do have to ask more questions,” Brainy says. “Did I see you carrying a sword on the back of one of the H’Rakas, and why did I see a decapitated robot being dragged behind you?”

“Yeah, it’s a family heirloom, and the Kelex is purely to help carry luggage.” Kara boasts. “The sword is actually super cool and—”

“It’s definitely going to change the timeline some more.” Brainy cuts her off, not even touching on the Kelex again. That whole thing is horrifying.

Lena comes to her rescue. “Most likely, but we’ve got everything we need to get back home and face Lex. We’ve got everything under control, Brainy. This is a happy time. Smile.”

His shoulders sag. “I am happy. The mission was successful and that’s excellent news.”

“It is.” Kara agrees, scooping Esme up and setting her on her hip. “And Miss Esme here is the star of the show. She’s the hero here.”

The group breaks into applause for the little girl, who is laughing her head off as they holler her name.

“We did it.” Kara sighs after she sets Esme back down, moving to wrap her arm around Lena’s shoulders and leaning in to press her lips to her cheek. “Now, let’s get back to Earth."

The end...for now

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[keirametzbrassknuckles]

Having a little fun with this Price POV Ghost character study piece so here have a snippet:

Council flats are the same the country over. Damp-scaled walls, the smell of piss and stale cigarette smoke in the landings, the rude graffiti the only kind of color in the grey. It’s a homecoming in a certain kind of way, reminds Price of his own childhood spent in a block of flats very much like this in Hackney.

The Riley’s door is nondescript, the same as all the others on this hall: graffiti-marred and otherwise featureless. Flat 222. There's the low sound of a TV from inside, some kids cartoon program with the volume on way too loud.

He knocks. 

He isn't expecting the child that opens the door, is almost taken aback by him. He's a skinny thing, towheaded, freckles on his cheekbones, dressed in the style of every child on the margins: overlarge football jersey gone grey with poor washing, frayed trackies hanging off his skinny hips. He looks at Price, glares almost.

“who’re ya then?” 

“I'm here to see Mrs. Riley” he says, the guilt nearly suffocating “is she in?”

“Gran!” the kid shouts. He has the same gap in his teeth that Simon has, the same wide-dark deer-eyes “There’s a man here!” 

Simon’s mother is a slender woman, bony, her expression perpetually frightened like it had forgotten how to be anything else. Price had read the file, knows that Simon’s father passed away two years ago, but when you’ve been haunted for so long it’s difficult to stop jumping at shadows even when the sun comes out. He’d know.

“Ma’am. I’m captain John Price, of Her Majesty’s Special Air Service…” Price begins and then realizes he’s not entirely sure how to proceed. This has always been his least favorite part of the job and now, adding a lie on top of it, it’s almost unbearable.

She beats him to it, however, that same sharpness in her that Simon possesses, that same whip-smart mind. 

“It’s about Simon” she says “Isn’t it?” 

“I’m very sorry” Price says, handing her the little box with Simon’s dog tags nestled inside “You have my condolences” 

She takes the box from him and this is the place where these encounters can go off the rails. Sometimes they cry, sometimes they scream and try and beat him to death, sometimes - like Mrs. Riley - they go very very quiet. Retreat inside themselves and hide. 

“It’s better” she says after a solid minute of silence, and her voice is thin and shaky like she’s trying to convince herself “to know. I hope he didn’t suffer” 

“It was quick” Price says because what’s another lie on top of all the others?

She nods, opens her mouth like she’s about to say something else only to be interrupted by the presence of a man coming around the corner from the living room. 

He’s tall like Simon is, though less broad, has the addict’s thin-skinned-ness to him; heroin wastage despite nearly a year clean. Tommy, if Price had to guess, Simon’s older brother. 

“Mum?” he says, half a question, eyeing Price with distrust, coming up behind his mother primed to step between them should he need to. The child, who until this point had been lingering in the entryway, darts behind him to grip tightly to his belt loop and peer out at Price from behind the bulwark of his father's thigh.

“It’s Simon” she says, simply, quietly, and Tommy’s face crumples. 

“Can…” she starts and then shudders like the whole world just quaked beneath her feet, a faultline growing in the universe “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea, captain?” 

And they do this, sometimes, the mothers - freeze inside themselves and offer hospitality as though to pretend everything is going to be alright. The typical British belief that everything can be fixed with PG Tips and hot water. 

“No” Price says and his voice feels thick like someone poured treacle in his lungs instead of air “Thank you, ma’am. I have duties elsewhere.”

“Of course” she says, so pale suddenly Price is surprised he can’t see through her “Thank you, captain” 

Price can’t stay and watch, can’t intrude on the smoking crater he’d just made of a life. He salutes and walks away. 

He reaches the stairwell before the weeping starts. Before the door closes and all is quiet again.

And just like that Simon Riley is dead. 

Just like that there is only Ghost.

[quietly-sleeping]

Dp x yi City arc????

Danny drops into yi City, kinda confused but dealing with it, knows language already since dead ppl spoke it so he's fine on that front. Little confused about formalities but stumbles through, gets labeled the weird outsider from some secluded village

Rants at cw for a bit, cw essentially pats him on the head and cites experience with new culture/gaining a new understanding of how death is handled elsewhere

Finds out about cultivation the hard way, gets jumped by walking corpse, fights it like normal ghost, very confused when it doesn't act right. No core, no reaction to communication either verbal or nonverbal

Gets helped by xxc, who just came into town with xy and a-qing, xxc kills corpse and lectures Danny thoroughly about nighttime safety

Xy eventually runs across kid in town, tries fucking with him a bit, kid is very unimpressed, follows him back bc he smells like death, but like wrong death

Danny just sits down and doesn't fucking leave, just chills and helps with chores, xxc doesn't mind it, worried about a unsupervised kid just, out there, when yi City has its massive corpse problem.

Xy does not care. Wants the kid out actually, having a kid who can see makes things more difficult for him, but kid doesn't know a damn thing about cultivation or any cultivators, doesn't even know what sects are. Xy eventually gets used to Danny being around, is very concerned and intrigued when he spots Danny straight up taking to the dead at some point and the dead talk back

A-qing is dubious, what the fuck is this kid doing? Why does he look like that (gesturing to all of him) also does he not see the issues with xy? Xy blatantly threatens on a daily basis, just like a-qing but he is unbothered, in fact he does it back?? But more playful?? A-qing has had more migraines since Danny dropped in than ever before in her short life

And it is not the dehydration talking, Danny. She drinks water, just not when Danny's around.

Plus she's seen his eyes glow at night, multiple colors actually, and can't figure out how to convey this to daozhang without fessing up to being able to see

Everything kind of balances out over time, Danny settles with them better, makes a bed for himself, and sometimes vanishes for a few days before popping back up.

This really concerns xxc, who is almost certain Danny is a cultivator at this point, bc who let this child go on night hunts by himself with no older martial siblings around? He could try and send xy with Danny, but xy still doesn't know xxc knows that xy is a cultivator and not just some dude with talismans.

Also he doesn't quite trust the two to not cause more problems while solving whatever Danny is off chasing.

In the end they hover about each other until sl finds xxc

Danny was following xy around a lot that day, sometimes deliberately trying to get a friendly fight out of him when sl drops in.

Sl stares at Danny, just standing next to xy, not even reacting when sl name drops xy and calls him out as a murderer, even as xy tries to stab him while doing so.

Danny, who has gotten very used to xys violent tendencies and has mostly categorized him as a liminal of some sort with really bad instinct control, just shrugs

If they managed to provoke baby liminal xy to homicide, either they done fucked up or it was self defence.

How massacring an entire clan down to animals was self defence, Danny can't answer that, but he does know that the scent of death on xy has pretty much stayed the same since he met him. So Danny was mildly sure he hadn't committed any murders in a while, and what you do while in your adjustment phases as a liminal, Danny can't really hold it against him.

Sure he's upset xy is a mass murderer, but people change, a long sentence doing community service might help, like Dan, but xy was mostly mortal and didn't have that kind of time. Plus xxc had multiple long talks with all of them on the morals of the Justice system.

So Danny was pretty sure rehabilitation was on the table.

So sl finds himself being marched back to the coffin house alongside xy, with Danny dead set on getting xxc to handle this

[gogandmagog]

Hello hello, huge fan of your fanfics, and now that I have discovered your tumblr, a huge fan of your posts! Delighted to see you’re a Walter lover too, based on your fics I would have assumed it was Jem for you. My question is, l who do you guess Walter looks like, since it’s referenced often that he is a hop out of kin? My other question would have been asking about when you might update your fics but I see you already get asked this often enough. 🤣

Man alive! Thanks so much, and thanks so much for taking the time to say so! Just straight gassing me up. Jem, that's so funny! I do love him, too! And all the Blythe kids. But of course... they can't all be Walter, can they?

I’ve always personally fancied that Walter looks like Bertha Willis. The Blythe stock is plenty well-known, for a good few generations, and so it feels like the obvious move to eliminate their physical traits first, unless we're counting on resemblance to an unknown way-back ancestor. Meanwhile, Anne knows almost nothing about her own mum and dads looks — aside from what she's told by the woman living in same yellow Bolingbroke home that the Shirley's once had. From that chapter of AotI we understand that Anne’s father was where her red hair and complexion came from, and that Anne favours her mother ‘about the eyes and mouth.' Walter has grey eyes. So does Anne... who, as aforementioned, favours her Bertha about the eyes. And keep in mind, this one tiny connection is the probably the entire basis or foundation that I built this whole little theory on. And this is also where ‘reasonable’ pretty much ends. Elsewhere I have this probably-rather-reaching-at-an-all-time-impossible-level head canon about Anne’s own childhood wishes to have hair 'black as a ravens wing,' in that I really like to attribute that to tiny infant memories Anne might unconsciously have of Bertha, in the very deepest of recesses. And then here’s Walter, with the sought black hair.

Mind, this might all be very easily argued, because the Anne of Green Gables wiki page (mysteriously?) notes that Bertha had, (apparently?) blonde hair. However — there's no citation given for it... and I truly cannot recall this being canonly stated. Anywhere. Ever. But it’s likely there’s just someone out there that knows better than I! I would also like to pose this question right back at you, if you're open to it! I could legitimately talk Walter all day, every day. 🙃

[donnerpartyofone]

so i'm reading The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, a development i never saw coming, because of two things i recently heard about it:

1. that one of its main points is that keeping your space clutter-free is actually a specific skill you need to acquire and not, as is popularly thought, something that you either naturally do because you're a good person, or that you refuse to do because you're a jerk or a failure. 2. that marie kondo found her calling in this area after suffering from some sort of cleaning-related nervous breakdown.

i've had problems with being clean and organized my entire life, and for the most part i just accepted the criticism that this is a matter of personal failing. as a more informed adult, it has become much easier for me to see my disorganization as one symptom among many of a bigger problem that is probably cognitive in nature. as a kid i was depressed and sort of oblivious to the "real world", which could make it easy for adults to assume that i just needed an attitude adjustment. (i don't even blame them, my parents were not psychologists, but anyway) as an adult i'm still depressed and instead of being oblivious, i care profoundly about being more functional, but just wanting to change, and trying as hard as i can, still don't seem to make a difference.

the first time it occurred to me that my problems may be more neurological than intent-related was when a sympathetic listener referred me to this helpful article:

but while i'm reading the kondo book, it also occurs to me that there's this whole ethos around being organized that's really oppressive. there's a feeling that being untidy is sort of a moral failure: that you are being a mess, on purpose or out of willful negligence, because you are disrespectful, inconsiderate, LAZY (is the big one), shortsighted, apathetic, or any number of other indicators of a human being with poor character. my messy room was one of the main points of friction between myself and my family until i left for college. never mind that i was also sleeping all the time, swinging constantly between sadness and outrage, and expressing suicidal ideation out loud from when i was in single digits; my apparent refusal to clean my room was seen as a separate issue, either a bratty behavior that i designed to piss off my parents, or at best, just a failure to learn to follow the rules.

i haven't finished kondo's book yet (because i'm still working on the exercise i'm about to describe), but it starts to become clear that there are important psychological underpinnings of one's hygiene-related behavior. kondo doesn't come right out and describe her own personal problems (not yet anyway! don't spoil it for me if she does!), but you start to realize a few things from her snippets of biographical information: for instance, she makes it clear that she was alone a lot as a child. she seems to have lived a very separate existence from her siblings, and instead of socializing with schoolmates, she spent all of her time researching and implementing new ways of cleaning and organizing both her home and her school rooms. she describes this as an all-consuming compulsion that had a deleterious effect on her grades, and something is surely implied by her revelation that when a person switches from a pressing task, like studying for an exam, over to compulsively cleaning their space, they're being overtaken by a subconscious drive to Put In Order something that is bothering them deep inside. (when i was trying to get through my final year of college i started taking several showers a day, but ANYWAY) and then of course, there is what i read elsewhere about how she was eventually so overwhelmed by her sisyphean struggle with clutter that she had some sort of collapse, after which she gained clarity on why disorder happens and what to do about it...

kondo reiterates the old pop psychology truism that for a person to change, they have to really want to change, and she has a smart way of getting the reader to access their own obscure but potentially powerful motivations for wanting to get organized. she gets you to ask yourself why you want to "tidy up", but you're not supposed to stop at pat answers like "i want more space" or "i want to entertain at home" or whatever. you're supposed to then ask yourself what you want that cleanliness and space FOR, and as you keep asking yourself "why?" for every answer you come up with, you eventually start producing really detailed personal information about what kind of life you actually want to be leading. i suppose it's true that you could do this for any aspect of your existence, e.g. "why do you dress like that" or whatever, but there is something about starting with the basic issue of how and where you live that seems especially liable to make you face yourself. the whole "clean your room" thing is so loaded with psychic material related to family friction, intimacy issues, social prejudices that assign a moral quality to neatness/messiness, etc, that something deep is bound to come up. like when i start trying to answer marie kondo's question about why i'm even reading her book, two things come up: one answer relates to my sunniest aspirations about what kind of life i want to lead, to have the kind of future i want. the other answer is something more like, "i want to tidy up because once upon a time, grownups made me feel like i was actually a bad person for having a messy room/desk/locker/etc."

so my point is that even though The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up is mainly aimed at practical, cosmetic changes to your lifestyle, under the surface there's this really deep psychological thing going on that's as potent to me as any of the more spiritual, personal, new age-y type of self-help material that i've encountered. like, you could pay thousands of dollars to let tony robbins put you up on a stage in front of screaming crying strangers so you can give them incredibly intimate details about the worst thing that ever happened to you...or you can do some basic exercises from this book about how to clean your room, and you might wind up with the same kind of startling clarity about yourself without even realizing that that's what you were about to do.

[loveandthings11]

How Deep My Love Goes, Chapter 7

Read on AO3 Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6

Heart to Heart

Summary: After a few days of hiding out at home, Logan's slanderous article comes out and brings up difficult memories. Kendall opens up to Rava as much as he can about their separation and his fears.

“You don’t have to go to work?” Iverson asks. It’s day three of Kendall hiding out in the apartment and he just walked in the great room at 10 AM in a cashmere sweater and jeans after a late-morning workout. Rava jumps in.

“No, Dad is on Thanksgiving break too, so we can watch a movie later,” she says in the voice she uses to smooth things over. “Why don’t you go see if we have any popcorn?” Iverson nods and heads to the kitchen to ask their housekeeper about the supply.

Kendall looks over at her but doesn’t say anything. She knows he doesn’t like it when she “handles” things for him, but she didn’t want to let him be forced into having to explain why he’s staying home to the kids. She hopes he figures out a way to fix his work situation without them ever being the wiser.

He looks around the room, trying to remember where he sat the last time he had had three entire days off. He can’t even remember when that was. He wonders how many days it’ll be before he goes to work again, wherever that might be. He picks his old favorite armchair and leans back sort of awkwardly. Rava grins secretly, a mixture of pity and amusement. He has no idea how to relax.

Twenty minutes later, he’s sitting with a book in his lap staring out at the sky. Rava walks over and brushes her hand over his head. He glances up at her.

“That book must be captivating,” she says. He shrugs. “Do you want to get your iPad, or… something?” She knows he can spiral if he just sits by himself when things are bad. He shakes his head. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I- I don’t want to see any articles right now.” She’s actually a little impressed that he wants to protect himself.

“Okay. Well, we’re going to watch Frozen for the 87th time this month. Want to join us?” She asks. He gives her a small smile.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” 

They walk down the hall. Sophie has her Elsa costume on and is trying in vain to convince her brother to wear Sven antlers. Kendall and Rava sit on the couch and the kids pile on next to them. They start the movie and halfway through it, Kendall realizes he’s living in Connor’s happy prediction and isn’t even fully enjoying it because his mind is elsewhere. He puts his arm around Sophie and tries to be present.

“Dad,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Will you be Sven?” She holds up the antlers.

Rava chuckles and doesn’t look at them.

“No,” he smiles at Sophie.

“Please?” She asks, using her best puppy dog eyes. He shakes his head.

“Daaaaaaad,” she whines. He sighs and Sophie bounces up and puts them on his head.

“One minute. That’s all,” he tells her. She giggles as she looks at him. Rava looks over and smirks.

“Don’t,” he says to her.

“Okay,” Rava says as she tries to keep a straight face. “Look, Iverson, the antlers are cool after all,” she says. Iverson looks over and laughs.

“Okay. We’re done with this,” Kendall says, taking them off and keeping a semi-cheerful tone so the kids will think everything’s fine. “These are for you, buddy.” He hands them over to Iverson, who considers them for a moment before putting them down. Rava looks over at him and tries to get him to smile again.

“So serious,” she whispers, gently jostling him even though she can tell he’s too in his head to be silly right now. He sighs. He knows she wishes he were more fun sometimes, but he just doesn’t have the energy to try right now. The family sits together on the couch for the rest of the movie. When it’s over, Kendall gets up and looks around again.

“Um, I’m going to go… take a nap.”

“Take a nap?” Rava asks. He hasn’t done that since their clubbing days.

“Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe I just need more sleep,” he says. He thinks maybe he’ll recharge after some time by himself.

“Okay,” she nods. She knows he needs to take some time to process everything that’s been happening.

After about an hour of working on Tony Trume’s case and imagining the glory of the corrupt company paying for its misdeeds with her work behind it all, she thinks about how disappointed she would be not to be able to have the chance to implement her ideas. She’s been working on this for a couple of months and is already so invested. She tries to imagine how it would feel if she had been focusing on it her whole life and watched it all disappear in a day.

She decides to go find Kendall. Although she wishes the circumstances were different, it’s nice to have him home. Or it would be if he felt less depressed. She’s missing his old enthusiastic self, but she really likes knowing that when she goes in the bedroom he’ll be there. Sometimes during the separation she used to walk in and wish she could see him looking cozy in bed surrounded by pillows. Safe, where she always wanted him. 

She goes quietly into the room and is surprised to find him actually asleep in the pile of soft bedding. He always looks cute when he’s sleeping and she feels a rush of affection for him. She walks into his room-sized closet for an extra blanket to curl up with him and stops in her tracks when she sees one of the old addiction books she used to hide from him lying open on the chaise lounge. She’d forgotten they were in there and hadn’t moved them when he moved back in. He must have found it when he went to change before getting back in bed. She picks up the open book for a moment to look at the cover. Supporting Sobriety. He’d stopped reading on the chapter about how to talk to a spouse who has a problem. She winces. He didn’t need to see that.

She walks back out and sits down in the velvet chair by the bed to think over how she can tell him that back then she was just trying to find him again, to save his life because she loved him so much. A news alert pops up on her phone. “Troubled Roy Son out of Waystar- Is Kendall Back on Drugs?” Her heart sinks as she stares at it. She’s scrolling through the pictures of him walking through the streets of the Financial District with the suggestion that he was high the whole time. Even the idea of it makes her nervous. He wasn’t- right? She stands up and hesitates about what to do. Her movements wake him up and he rolls over and looks at her. She wants to hide it from him- this is the last thing he needs. He sees her expression and reaches for the phone. 

“What?” He asks. 

“No- you shouldn’t-“ she starts as he takes it out of her hand.

His stomach drops and he feels like he might be sick. His breath starts coming too quickly and he looks lost even though he’s home. 

“‘Wandering the streets talking to myself?’” He reads out loud. “I was on the phone, Jesus, fuck. It’s- it’s not enough to get me out, he has to.. fucking destroy me?” He hands it back to her and waits for her to agree, but she’s not saying anything, just scrolling with a horrified look on her face. She skims the whole thing and looks at him two seconds too long.

“Wait, you- you know this isn’t real, right?” He feels the anxiety peak. He hates that look more than anything.

“….Right, but I mean, how long were you out before you came home?” She asks. She’s trying not to reframe the last couple of days. 

“What?”

“Because it looks like they got a lot of pictures, so it must have been a while.” He’s shocked at what she’s saying and she sees it on his face. There’s a dangerous pause. 

“Well, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” she says defensively. But then she hears the old suspicions coming up with no evidence and wishes she had stopped them.

Anxiety turns into anger in an instant and he sits up and stares at her.

“Rava. Are you kidding me? You- are you- do you believe this? Like… these fucking pieces of shit who follow me everywhere, you were just saying how much you hate them a month ago? Now they have your- what? Respect? You believe them over me? I was here that night, what? You know who owns this shitty paper, right?” 

“No- you- right, yes, you were here. It just seems like you were out for a while first, maybe. That’s all. I mean, of course you’re not...”  

He looks away and shakes his head.

“You still don’t trust me.” He’s doing everything he can to just stay still, not to run, not to yell, not to hide. 

“Well, it’s not just about trust, it’s complicated, you know-“

“Right. I forgot, you know everything about addiction,” he says bitterly. “I don’t go near anything, you should know that. How do you not see his motivation to make it look like- fuck.”

She realizes he’s right about who would order such a thing to be written this week. She sighs.

 “I do- I- it’s a bad habit to react like that. I know it’s a lie.”

He doesn’t want to look at her. He picks up his own phone and reads through the article again. He tries to calm down but it’s not getting much easier. This story must be reminding her of all the worst parts of him. Reminding everyone. 

“Don’t look at it,” she says hesitantly. He shakes his head.

“I didn’t get the job and this is all over the place now. The kids are going to see it. You don’t even believe me. What- what did I even do all this shit for?”

“I do believe you. And why did you get sober? To… live, to pursue your goals, to be a dad.” She keeps her tone gentle as she tries to look at his face. He’s looking away. “To be a husband.”

“Sure. After three years. And one perceived mistake and you’re gone for another three years. With the kids. And it really will have been for nothing.” 

She realizes he doesn’t fully trust her, either. She sinks down to sit on the bed.

“Do you really think that?“ She asks.

He doesn’t answer, but she’s done enough reading about repairing a marriage in recovery to know he does. She knew he’d feel like he wasn’t good enough.

“That’s not true. I promise it’s not,” she assures him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says.

“No, you don’t,” she keeps her voice calm even though he’s right about the thoughts that flitted through her head. He’s still quiet. “Come on, talk to me,” she says. “I want to hear what you’re thinking.” He doesn’t think she does, but they’ve come this far.

“Were you- were you even happy before all that shit? Reading all those books about how to ‘deal with me’ before you just left?”

“Of course I was.“ She didn’t want him to feel any more shame. “I was trying to learn- to help you. But, God, that was all so long ago.” She wants to make it go away before it all comes out, but she can’t just let him say that. “And ‘just leaving’ isn’t how I’d put that.” She takes a breath. “I think you know that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

He turns the other way, isolating himself the way he’d learned to do as a kid to protect against certain rejection. He’s so used to their one-sided story that he’s been telling it to himself. He hurt her, he hurt the kids, he doesn’t get to have feelings. He feels the things he’s been pushing down coming up. He thought he could pretend it all never happened and he’s so quiet she can barely hear him.

“You didn’t have to do it like that. I mean… you just left me there.” She tries to remember how to breathe and he continues. “Didn’t seem hard for you. I don’t know, it seemed pretty easy.”

Her eyes widen.

“What?” 

“You-you looked at me and you… walked away.”

She can’t believe the moment they’re talking about, the unthinkable moment when she’d finally had to look away from his tear-filled eyes and let go of his hand as she walked down the long pathway from the rehabilitation center. She’d felt like she wasn’t in her body. He’d asked her if he could do this. “I don’t know, Ken.” The faith was gone. He’d wanted to run after her, to tell her again that this couldn’t be it for them. The fear of the detox pain combining with the despair at the thought of losing all the love in his life made him want to run with everything he had. But he couldn’t. He’d stood there and tearfully watched her walk away for as long as the staff would let him. 

She had never turned around. 

He’d thought she must never want to see him again. She’d thought if she looked back for one second she’d sprint back and never let him go.

She’d sobbed in a ball the whole 6-hour jet ride home and he’d tortured himself imagining her celebrating.

“I know I deserved it. And you had been there for it before, and I know that. So, I tried to understand that, I did. But there was just a part of me that thought you would never- I don’t know. If I were you I’d - I’d probably hate me too, but I just.. fucking-“

“No, I never-“

“-needed you.”

She claps her hand over her mouth. She’d worried that he felt abandoned every day they were apart and he’d never said a word. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “Maybe it was the wrong thing. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t have you then, it wasn’t really you.” She digs deep for the vulnerability she’s been protecting. “And I needed you.”

She hears a quiet scoff.

“Right, well, obviously that’s not true. You walked away. You never called me, you had a fucking boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t- And I was trying to process, or, figure out what could even happen with us.”

“And-“ He tries to stop himself but he can’t think about anything else now. He covers his face and drags his hand down it. 

“-how- how could you be with someone else?” 

All of a sudden she can feel his heartbreak. She didn’t know what a big deal this was, but it all makes sense now. 

“Oh…” She takes a breath and runs a million thoughts through her head of what to say to make him understand how irrelevant that short time feels now. “It was nothing like this, Ken,” she tries.

“Right… he didn’t put you through shit like this I bet.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious. We dated for two months, I’ve been with you for seventeen years!”

“Fourteen.”

He’s still quiet but it lands hard.

“Please come here, it’s not like that,” she says, hoping he’ll turn around.

He stays.

“Not like- going out together, and lying in bed, and, fuck, was he here?” He feels like he’s going insane and feels the sheets touching him.

“Of course not. He never came here, the kids are here. Our kids.” 

He hears her and some part of him understands, but he can’t get over this feeling. He puts a pillow over his face so he’ll stop talking. It doesn’t work.

“…Did you love him?” His voice is muffled and soft and it hits even harder that this was not just petty jealousy.

“Oh, no.” She moves a little closer. “I never even stopped sleeping on my side of the bed.” 

He remembers when she’d called him six months into their relationship when he had had to go on a corporate golf retreat with a bunch of men forty years his senior. She’d told him she couldn’t stand that she hadn’t seen him in seventy-two hours. She’d said she couldn’t sleep without him, she’d been lying on one side of her twin bed hugging her pillow. He’d told his dad he was going to the pro shop and headed straight for the helicopter. Logan hadn’t let it go for months, but it had been worth it to see her face light up when she’d opened her door, to hear the squeals when she’d jumped into his arms, and to feel the way she’d kissed him over and over when they’d squeezed into her bed.

He’s wondering if it could be like that now. He knows how rare their connection is. She just couldn’t have been like that with some other guy. They’re the ones who people roll their eyes at when they kiss in public because they wish they had that kind of love. He’s never felt this insecure, this inadequate. He feels like he shouldn’t say anything else, but maybe she should know how he felt when she said she was seeing someone.

“I didn’t sleep for a week after you told me. Just thought I’d…. completely fucking lost everything.”

“Ken…” she whispers. She wishes her heart could talk to his. 

“You know it wasn’t really anything,” she says softly. “You… dated while we were apart, right? You know how it is?” She’s afraid to know the answer and kind of wishes she hadn’t asked.

“Uh, yeah, no one I could pick out of a lineup.” She feels bad that she’s relieved. He looks down. “You know every time I came to you those nights I thought maybe you’d change your mind? Get back together?” He doesn’t even know why he can’t stop telling her awful truths.

Her heart hurts. She reaches for him and he doesn’t move.

“And I tried to tell you about some- some things I wanted to talk about and you’d just- you know, I still had to go, so…”

“What things?” She’s been trying to coax more out of him since they got back together and runs all the times he’d tried to talk to her back then through her mind.

He doesn’t answer for a minute. He wishes she would reach for him again.

“Nothing. Yeah, I can’t do this. I’m not allowed to say any of this, I get it. I don’t have a side. I might not even… you know… if you hadn’t taken me there. I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

She’s speechless for a moment as she moves closer. She’s so sad that he’s been silently carrying these heavy feelings all this time.

“‘Not allowed’? No, I want to hear everything. And you don’t have to apologize anymore.” She sighs. “It did take me a long time to forgive you. But I have. I needed to be sure, and now I am. That phase is over. Really.” He’s been apologizing forever. She’d read his devastating rehab letter so many times she practically had it memorized. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for ruining everything, but I hope you can someday. For what it’s still worth, if that’s anything, I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to. I wish I could come home to you. She’d finally decided that he’d been punished enough. She knows they can push through.

“I know this is hard,” she says gently. “But I care about how you feel.” He wants to turn around so badly but can’t bring himself to do it. “You’re right that you’ve heard my side, but I haven’t heard all of yours.”

“Uh… it really doesn’t matter.” He’s done trying to tell her things today. This is the most he’s talked about his feelings in as long as he can remember.

“It matters to me.”

He looks back at his phone.

“My side is this shit.” He drops it off the side of the bed. “No one sees anything else.” She moves a little closer.

“I do.”

He’s spent and sounds defeated. 

“Uh huh.” 

She’d taught him how to be loved once. Maybe she can do it again.

“Ken, I look at you and I see everything else.” 

He says nothing and she lays her hand on his arm.

“I see my husband, who surprised me with a secret little room at our wedding reception so we could have our own first dance. And I see our kids’ dad, who wouldn’t ever give up on our dream and sat with me while I cried all night when I lost the third round of IVF…” 

He hesitantly puts his hand on hers. Some things supersede difficult talks.

“…who I shared happy tears with when we finally had a family.” She’s trying not to cry at the memory of them looking at baby Sophie together for the first time. “And who wore antlers today just to make the kids smile, even in the middle of an awful week.

“I see the man who held my hand at my godfather’s funeral six years ago and held me in the car afterward when I couldn’t even speak.” She waits for his reaction but he’s lying still. Listening. 

“…who called his little brother when he heard he got dumped, even when he knew he wouldn’t talk about it. …Who sent flowers to my dorm every day for a month after the- experience- of meeting his family for the first time.” She grins. “You know, my roommate asked me where she could get a man like you and I told her I think I have the only one.”

He glances back toward her and she moves closer to spoon him. 

“And I see the guy who made me laugh so hard in that restaurant in Florence that I almost slipped off my chair. And everyone was staring and it just made me laugh harder.” She hopes he’s smiling. “Remember that?”

He remembers. Their 10th anniversary trip had been one of the most fun times in their recent history, and shaking his head with a smile on his face as she made people stare at their table in the Michelin star restaurant had been the best moment of the vacation.

“I definitely see my favorite rapper,” she continues with a smile, hoping he’ll give in. Her tone returns to completely genuine. 

“I see the only one I ever want cuddled up to me in the morning when we wake up in our bed. I missed that.” 

She wraps her arms around him and he leans back into her. She whispers in his ear. 

“You’re the love of my life. The only love of my life. That’s what I see when I look at you.”

He rolls over slowly and looks at her face. There’s nothing but honesty there. His eyes are hoping for an answer to a question he can’t bring himself to ask, and she places her hand on his cheek.

“I’m never walking away again.”

He leans in and gives her a soft kiss and moves close so she can finally hold him to her. Heart to heart. He’s reluctant to ask the last question on his mind, but since they’re saying so much of the truth, he summons the courage as he stays up against her.

“Uh… what if- you know, I mean I’m not saying that it would happen, but, what if… I did- slip?”

He can’t even look at her because he’s sure he knows the answer. Her stomach ties itself in a knot.

“But you’re not, you haven’t. You won’t.”

He nods, but he really needs to know.

“Right, yeah. But just… what if?”

She feels queasy.

“Well, if you did- and you won’t- then, I’d need you to go get treatment, obviously. But right away, not… like before.”

“Yeah,” he says. “And if I did that…”

She takes a breath and pulls back just enough to look down into his eyes.

“I’d be there.”

His gaze lingers for a second before he settles back into place. He’s not 100% sure if she means that last part, but he wishes he had the words to express how relieved she’d just made him feel. He’d needed to hear her say all of that for so long. He just hugs her and hopes she knows she just started healing deep wounds he’d been pretending weren’t there. Even with the heavy weight of his dad’s slander on his shoulders, he still feels so much lighter. He looks back at her.

“You know you’re the love of my life, too,” he says. She smiles.

“Oh, I know,” she replies. He lets out a little laugh. “But I like hearing it.” He keeps looking at her.

“You are. Never been any doubt.”

She rubs his arm.

“I love that about you. You’ve always known what you wanted. So, don’t let your dad make you doubt yourself,” she says. He’s never expressed worry about relapsing before, though she’s sure it’s always on his mind. 

“Yeah. I don’t want to be like this,” he says.  He decides to echo what she said a couple of days ago. “It’s going to get better, yeah?”

She smiles and tilts her head. 

“It’s better already, don’t you think?” He nods. He didn’t even realize how hard he’d been trying to keep all of that in. “And I don’t want you to change,” she adds. “But you’ll get that certainty back.”

He glances at her and it slowly becomes a fact.

“I’m not going to slip.”

She feels the warmth in her chest. Peace.

“I know you’re not."

Chapter 8 💗

[mermaidsirennikita]

Have you caught up to succession? Tomshiv are kinda giving everything in all of their scenes esp the recent one !!

Yes I have! Another great episode. I'm borderline offended by how much people infantilize Shiv Roy. Let her be a disastrous asshole!!!!

Shiv has so many of the traits we see with problematic~ male characters (including her brothers and father). She's cold to the touch and has a hard time expressing love, she's possessive of the partner she loves while also not wanting to be openly and fully loving, she stabs her loved ones in the back, she acts quickly without thinking her moves through, she's very smart but not as smart she thinks she is (and I think a lot of that is less an intellect thing and more an experience thing--because she was never trained the way Kendall was, which isn't her fault, she's trying to skip the line as if she's spent years learning the ropes, and as unfair as it is, that's just not how it works).

But because Shiv is a woman, I think people want to assign this victimhood thing that the show explores in terms of examining the sexism she faces, while at the same time not acknowledging that Shiv is a misogynist who peddles in misogyny. Let's be fuckin' real here--it's all the wall. Shiv has no female friends we see onscreen, no deep female relationships... Her giving token "let's keep Karolina and Gerri on board" lip service doesn't count, because she'll also silence assault survivors when it suits her and teams up with a man who... whatever his relationship with Ebba actually is, it's not appropriate and Shiv KNOWS THIS. And it's no surprise, because Shiv's main female influence (her mother) is absent and cold, and otherwise she's spent her life competing with her brothers and desperate for her father's affection.

The thing is, you can say that Tom has done bad things to Shiv and vice versa without erasing what the other party has done. Tom fucked Shiv over and has said some really cruel things to her... If not things that are, like, entirely incorrect (I mean, would Shiv be a good parent as she is right now? Let's be serious, look me in the eye and say the woman we see now should have kids lol). Tom used Shiv to climb the social and professional ladder, something I don't think Shiv was unaware of when she married him because she's an intelligent woman, he spent hours dithering over how to please Logan on his birthday in the pilot, and people have literally joked about it onscreen.

But we also watched.... how many seasons? Of Shiv straight up emotionally abusing Tom? What would everyone say if Tom cheated on Shiv and invited his lover to the wedding before copping to the affair and then suggesting an open marriage? What would they say if Shiv spent so much time freaking out over going to prison, while Tom just sorta went *shrug* and even joked about it? (Mind you, Tom was never even told by Shiv, as far as we know, that she begged Logan to choose Kendall as the "blood sacrifice" over Tom.) What if Tom was about to fuck Shiv, physically on the brink of doing so, and went "btdubs, I don't love you and you're nothing". (That scene, as much as I love it and as much as Shiv tried to play it off as being kinky... while never negotiating the supposed play lol............. would read VERY differently to a lot of people with the roles reversed, imo.)

So basically, I think Tom and Shiv are terrible people. They're also toxically in love and can give each other things neither one gets from anyone else. Shiv is a hot billionaire; she could have virtually any man she wants. She's with Tom because there is a level of transparent emotional connection I don't think she's found elsewhere, even through the pain. He gives her the validation she wanted from her father, which is why she can't quite let him go and is so distraught whenever the threat of it being taken away is real. I think Tom really does love her--but she also values the fact that he is a social climber, and she can give him a level of status, a physical commodity, that nobody else can really give him. (Or... very few can. Notice how threatened she was by him being seen with Naomi Pierce, one of the only other women who can give him all that.) I think she also sees a level of a funhouse version of what her life could've been in Tom. Her saying "Your mom loves me more than she loves you"... Well, girl. At least Tom's mom loves him on some level, lol. Shiv's mom doesn't love her, and she knows it.

And Tom of course loves all Shiv can give him, and I think Tom's natural ability to become whatever he needs to be in the moment suits him very well. He can be the catty corporate dude, Shiv's plus one, seductive???? (HE WAS WEARIN' THAT PUSSY OUT IN THIS EP???) He also does probably have a minor degradation kink. Nowhere near what Roman is dealing with, but a little treat. But I also think that when her vulnerability slips through, it's like a high to him because it's something no one else gets.

So yeah, they're everything to me and I need people to stop clutching their pearls and recognize that everyone sucks and it's great.

Also, loved what everyone else is doing. Kendall is hurtling towards oblivion. Amazing!

[theprinceandthewitch]

Yeah... so... I don't see where people are coming from when they say Evelyn isn't going to make an appearance because she's irrelevant:

Because they had the chance to show us her face in Hollow Mind, but they didn't.

2. They straight up have Philip call Luz "Evelyn" and Hunter "Caleb" in Thanks to Them, but only Caleb's "ghost" shows up in For The Future. Even though they could have written this episode in a way where her "ghost" shows up alongside Caleb's. But once again, they are choosing to sidestep every opportunity to show us what she looks like. The only hints we have about her appearance is the paintings in Hollow Mind and that she looks like Luz. Because if she didn't look like Luz... Philip would not have called her Evelyn... Philip wasn't seeing every single person in the graveyard as someone he used to know - just Hunter and Luz.

3. In "For The Future", they made it seem like it was Evelyn who murdered Caleb. The majority of the audience is going to assume it was Evelyn, because of her portrayals in Yesterdays Lie and Thanks to Them.

So... people tend to forget TOH is a kids show. This means the majority of the audience... who are CHILDREN and the parents of these children... aren't going to be paying attention to the background details. Most of these kids [and their parents] aren't going to be on the internet reading or watching theory or analysis content.

This is why they're not going to know that the negative portrayals of Evelyn are false. They are not going to know Evelyn and Caleb were actually lovers who met a tragic end by Philips hand.

Mind you, the exact nature of Caleb's death has been a complete mystery to the majority of the audience since day one. The writers have never made Philip explicitly say he murdered Caleb. In Elsewhere in Elsewhen, even though we can see Caleb's bones on Philips desk, he never says he was the one who killed Caleb.

On top of this, the majority of the audience is going to assume his curse was given to him by Evelyn. They aren't going to know his curse is 100% self-inflicted - the source of his curse are glyphs he carved onto his arm.

Another thing to note: Because most people aren't going to have the context clues from Hollow Mind when watching and rewatching TOH, Philip is going to comes off completely different to them. Philip has been presented in such a way where you can assume he was a decent man forced to take extreme measures to survive in a world that's not fit for his species. He was a decent man who loved his brother - so much so that he was willing to venture into a "world of evil" to save him from a witch. But it was all for naught, as his brother was killed by the witch. He loves his brother so much to the point where he tries bringing him back as a Grimwalker, but Philip is forced to kill "Caleb" every time he "betrays" him. And he totally, tooootally feels bad about killing his brother over and over again. He can come off as a sympathetic character to most people.

This assumption most of the audience has about Philip needs to be subverted.

4. Above all, they NEED to clarify Caleb's and Evelyn's relationship because Luz and Hunter are tied to them. Caleb's and Evelyn's entire relationship has been presented EXCLUSIVELY from the perspective of humans. Humanity has presented their relationship as something very negative, with Evelyn being the cause of Caleb's demise. Luz's and Hunter's relationship isn't like Evelyn's and Caleb's at all. So it begs the question: Why are Luz and Hunter tied to two characters who share this kind of history. This is why they can't just leave Caleb's and Evelyn's relationship as something negative - these assumptions of their relationship need to be subverted in order to make the parallels between Luz/Hunter and Caleb/Evelyn make sense.

Since time travel is obviously going to be a thing in the final episode, we are going to see Caleb and Evelyn - and it's going to be the day Philip murders Caleb.

I legitimately don't see any other reason WHY they're so cagey with Evelyn's appearance if they weren't going to reveal her later. I also don't see the reason for them to STILL be cagey about Caleb's murderer - WHO IS SUPPOSEDLY EVELYN - if they weren't going to subvert the assumptions most of the audience have around his death.

Like... her reveal is needed to make the Luz/Hunter and Caleb/Evelyn parallels make sense AND she's needed to completely annihilate any sympathy people have for Philip.

[seeasunset]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑.

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.  Beck (or Bex / Bee / any forms of Beck) or any nicknames y'all want to call me.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬.   she/her

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. Discord or through ims.

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞(𝐬). On Tumblr? Vasco. He will continue to be an active muse. Elsewhere? Goro Majima (Yakuza), Daisuke Jigen (Lupin the third), two of my ocs, Vasco (Greedfall), and Dorian Pavus (Dragon Age: Inquisition).

𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞/𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬/𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬?). I've been writing since I was kid but rping-wise? Since I was like 14.

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. MMOs, Tumblr, Facebook, and Discord. I think a few websites meant for rping. Unfortunately, I cannot do Discord for rping and only use it for talking. I fell out of MMOS a while back. Tumblr and FB been my main platforms.

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.   The friends I've made and the memories we've created. There are quite a handful of people who knew me almost my entire rping years, which is wild to think about.

𝐫𝐩 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 / 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬.  One of my biggest pet peeves is when someone says they want to rp but ignores every single person who comes to them to rp. In other words, they only wanted to rp with selective people and not saying it directly. Another pet peeve is how people will look down on you if you don't have a great layout / graphics or format / write fancy.

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭. I prefer fluff and angst. While I don't mind smut, I don't write it often. So, it's rare to see me go into any details about it other than HCs. Even then, HCs are usually discussed with my shipping partners. Otherwise, I go all out for fluff and angst.

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬. Both. While I can answer memes like it is nothing, I also love plotting. The thing is about me and plotting is that I need some kind of dynamic in mind to have some juicy and fleshed-out plots. Otherwise, we'll be going into a whole circle of what we want or constantly throwing ideas and not going anywhere. It's why I am going to enforce the fact that - once I start plotting - I will ask what kind of dynamic you want or have in mind. It helps a lot to narrow down the ideas.

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬. Both. I do switch between both, especially when it comes to my writing partner. At the same time, once I get an idea of something - even if it is vague - you bet I am writing a lot. Sure, it's not nearly as much as some will go on this site or anywhere else, but it's still pretty lengthy.

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞.  Whenever I get the motivation, which is literally anytime. Morning, afternoon, etc. I don't have a set time. Sure, I have a schedule I try to input but it ends up being all over the place in the end.

𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞(𝐬). I don't think I'm too much like Vasco. We're quite the opposite, especially given he has more of a pessimistic view while I have an optimistic view. We're both stubborn and passionate?? I think I also pick up on being big softies. While it takes some time for him to show how he is a softie, it takes no time for me. We're both sweethearts though. That's literally about it. I am far from being a leader and will probably be bad at it.

Tagged by: Stolen it

Tagging: Y'all <3