#she becomes increasingly aware that there is only one path

[fushipurro]

Red Lights Red Flags

Chapter 9 - Promises

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, graphic depictions of death, blood, hurt/comfort, mentions of previous non-con, implied self-mutilation (brief)

☆ Word Count: 4.1k

It doesn’t take long for the fire to spread through the district, now looming just a few buildings away.

Nearly everything in its path has already come crashing down, reduced to nothing but ash while people cry out with blistering screams as they meet their demise. It’s growing hard to see most of your surroundings thanks to the heavy smoke, which might be a blessing if it weren’t from such a calamity.

How can you hope to survive this?

A dozen footsteps can be heard through the wooden planks above your head. Others making their safe escape down paths you peacefully traversed only a week before your confinement.

They wouldn’t leave you, would they?

You can excuse the few and far visitors you’ve had thanks to the fear Hanami has instilled in her courtesans, but to leave you here to die a cruel, agonizing death?

There must be someone coming, there has to. Losing hope now can only mean death. The only thing is… it certainly won’t be quick.

More smoke filters through past your window, collecting over your head like clouds paired with sinister storms. Breathing is becoming increasingly difficult, forcing you lower to the ground, as far away from the wall as your leash will allow.

“Come on,” you groan, prying at the chains. It’s not like you haven’t tried before, but you hope they might now break from adrenaline fueled strength.

They don’t.

Not even the slightest bit.

“Someone…” you mutter, looking around. There’s no one. “H-help.” No one to hear your plea. “Get me out of here!”

A loud noise from right outside covers up your desperate plea. A thick plume of smoke forces its way through, blanketing your cell in black. You’re forced to shut your eyes until the dust settles, coughing up your own storm despite the pain that follows.

It feels like a fire is burning your lungs from the inside out as you breathe, everywhere all around your body nearly scalding from the radiating heat.

When you’re finally able to open your eyes, you can see the last shred of hope you had burn away to nothingness. Instead of the brothel that neighbored yours being visible like it was, it had collapsed just now.

Death is here to greet you in a smoldering embrace, and nobody is coming to save you.

In a last-ditch effort, you try once more to force yourself free. The metal that binds you now hurts to the touch, worse around the cuff linked to your ankle.

Again, no luck.

A week of torture has done little to prepare you for such a calamity, and you’re growing tired of fighting by the second. Sweat coats your body in a vain attempt at keeping you cool, considering the only hydration you’ve had in days was the tangerine offering from the piebald crow.

“Someone help me!” You cry out one final time in desperation. “Please!”

Nothing.

Another wasted attempt that has you curling in on yourself in pain. Between the shouting and coughing, you can’t ignore your ribs anymore, not when they’ve had no chance to recover. Even if you try and resist the urge, it’s impossible when every breath sends you further into death’s hands.

Is this how your life ends?

After everything you’ve been through, just to meet your demise in a horrific dance with sunset-colored flames that crack and sing the song of the end?

You only wish you had the chance to say goodbye to Toji first.

Wherever he is, you hope he’s safe and out of harm’s way. There’s no telling if he’s aware of what’s happened ─ what is happening.

Botan wants you to believe that he betrayed you, that he’s using you, but you know neither is true. No doubt she’s long gone, probably saddened by the fact she can’t watch the devil twirl you around with scorching hands.

You’d give anything to see Toji one last time, if only to say those three words that matter most. There’s nothing more you can do now but sit and await your fate.

But then, a voice hits your ears, perking your head up in its direction.

Between the inferno’s roar, someone is yelling, someone you know quite well, and the figure approaching from within the curtain of ash.

“Shion!?”

She appears outside the doors to your cell with a set of keys in hands, swiftly unlocking the door to enter. “You have to get up now!” Shion undoes the chain that bounds you, giving no regard to how her hands burn in the process. “Come on!”

Shion pulls you up, wrapping her arm around to your good side and keeps your head against her chest to aide you along. Despite several layers of heavy silk fabrics adorning her body, she moves with both ease and urgency to rescue you.

“You came for me?” you ask incredulously.

Without missing a beat she answers, “Of course I did, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner,” she admits with regret in her tone.

The ceiling cracks and then suddenly caves. Shion tries to pull you out of the way, but is a moment too late when a sharp, burning pain drags down your thigh, causing you to shriek.

Blood quickly forms over the path of your injury, both deep and in need of attention. Shion wastes no time in shredding strips of her precious aster robes using the edges of rubble to tie around the source.

“We have to keep going,” she urges, and you weakly nod, leaning back into her through gritted teeth.

It hurts to keep going, but you must if you’re to survive.

If you want to see him.

Once upstairs, you realize the harrowing situation you’re in. The brothel is encapsulated with flames, and with each passing second, it grows fiercer ─ more demanding on its quest to devour.

Painted murals along the walls you once trailed your fingers along have long since burned to dust. Courtesans and clients alike are all running for their lives to escape. You watch one such couple bound towards the exit, but without so much as a warning, the ceiling gives way. Their screams are cut short as Death makes it claim.

“Marigold!” Shion turns your face to her and away from the gruesome scene. One of her eyes you notice is clouded in black and white specks, as if she’s been blinded but at the same time not. Now isn’t the time to dwell on it. “We need to hurry, or you’ll never make it!”

She pulls you forward down a different corridor. The stench of burning flesh rages in your nose, sending waves of nausea throughout your body.

Outside in the courtyard, it’s no different. There are a few corpses that lay bloodied across the ground of courtesans you knew that had chosen to jump to their death rather than risk being burned alive.

You try to keep your sights set ahead, but it’s hard wondering if all you’re doing now is prolonging your suffering. Like the women you pass by with Shion, you agree with their decision. If it’s meaningless to hope, then you’d rather a quick death.

Shion brings you to one of the walls adjacent to the streets, and only now do you see why she brought you here.

It wasn’t pointless. There’s a hole in the wall. An opening large enough for the two of you to pass through into the outside world, into your escape.

But before you can make a run for it, she stops you. “Listen to me,” she starts, holding you by your shoulders. “You must go now, and don’t look back. You hear me?”

“But Shion–“

“No! I need you to be strong now.” She smiles brightly, yet bittersweet.

Shion reaches up to the crown of her head, pulling out an ornate silver stick from her updo ─ one that couples her own signature piece. She presses it flat against your chest for you to take, then pulls you into a warm embrace. The world stills in that very moment, not a sound besides your own hearts beating as one.

When she lets go, her eyes are both her normal shade of violet again, like nothing ever happened.

Then she pushes you back.

It was unexpected, so you stumble on your feet until your back collides with something hard. Confusion falls over your face mixed with fear as you turn your body only to find him.

Toji.

Thundering flames must’ve clouded your senses, unaware to the sound of his approach atop his jet-black steed. You can’t help the tears that fall as he holds his hand out for you to take, hoping this isn’t some cruel mirage conjured by death’s approach.

“Go, Marigold!” Shion yells, her own face riddled with tears. “Live your life as free as a bird!”

You take Toji’s hand and in one swift motion, the world moves in a blur and then settles with yourself in front of his body. The horse rears slightly, but the man holds hard on the reins while keeping you secure. He nudges with his ankle, urging the horse forward.

“Toji, no ─ go back for her!” You beg him while looking over his shoulder. “Shion!” Your voice cracks with sorrow.

Shion calls out her farewell to you, straining herself to reach your ears, “I’ll always love you, my little Marigold! You’ll forever be one of my own!” Her words fade into the sound of a crow’s caw overhead.

She’s gone ─ and your response is visceral. Thick, heavy tears cascade down your face as you feel your heart shatter.

In the short time you’ve known Shion, she’s become a second mother to you. History repeats itself in front of your eyes as you’re forced go on without them again, without her.

At least this time, you have something to remember her by. Something you never got the chance from your own that day your father cursed you with this life.

As you traverse through the apocalyptic streets, your cries eventually relax as the world around you overshadows any emotion felt. It’s not over until you’re free and clear from the district and this city as a whole.

Toji remains focused on the path ahead with a hardened stare, skillfully maneuvering through crowds and rubble all with one goal in mind.

With all the carnage surrounding you, Toji is the only tether you have to keep from losing yourself to the call of the void. Looking up to his face now through vision blurred from smoke and tears, you remember something long shut away in the depths of your mind, past the wall of thorns.

A mere second glimpse at that look of his was all you needed for everything to come back, and you’re sure of this one thing.

That you’ve finally found that boy again.

It’s a strange feeling leaving the only city you’ve known since birth. By now, you’re somewhere in the mountains east of Kyoto and that place you once called home is but a cloud in the horizon, extinguished by the downpouring of rain. It’s as if the heavens are weeping for all the lives taken today.

The trees do little to shield you and Toji, the both of you soaked from head to toe. He knows he needs to find somewhere to stop, and soon, but this isn’t anywhere close to where he had in mind. Your adrenaline has long since worn off, leaving you visibly in pain and shivering from the cold.

A fork in the road catches his attention, and as if by some miracle from above, the secondary path leads up through a Torii gate.

A shrine, no doubt. They wouldn’t turn away weary travelers.

Dawn has yet to arrive, and while it’s still dark, Toji can clearly see while riding past the gate that it’s not the typical color. What is normally a soft, natural wood tone, or a vermilion hue is instead stained in an unnatural scarlet.

That should be his first warning, but the color means nothing so long as what lies ahead is shelter in the end. So, he veers off from the main road, and up through the overgrown path.

“How are you holding up?” he asks as you adjust yourself for the umpteenth time in the seat.

You’ve never been in the saddle this long, or ever before, and the pain from all over is making you restless. That paired with obvious dehydration leaves you in a weakened state.

“It hurts, Toji,” you mumble with a hoarse tone. Your throat is raw and constantly burns ─ aftereffects from the fire and all your shouting and sobs. But the physical pain you feel is nothing compared to your psyche.

“Hang in there, we’re almost… there.” He trails off at the sight of the shrine, another warning stares blaringly in your face, far more pronounced and nightmarish.

There’s a large wall with a heavy set of crimson doors. Large, jagged spikes adorn the framing and even the rooftops. Bones litter the entrance, strung up like artwork. It even appears blood was used in place of paint for the walls, splashed over every inch of it exterior.

You don’t think too much of it past the ominous look from the pain you’re in, but Toji knows better.

He knows who this shrine belonged to.

A rare instance of hesitation washes over Toji, does he really want to risk hiding out here of all places? He ponders.

The atmosphere is already sickeningly cold, heightened by the rain now taking a turn for the worst. As uninviting as this shrine is to mere humans, it’ll have to do to guarantee your safety.

Toji clicks his tongue for the horse to approach the foreboding doors, but it neighs in refusal the closer it gets.

“Hold on,” he says suddenly, lifting you up in a bridal carry so he can dismount with you as carefully as he’s able to.

You wince at the discomforting feeling, clutching yourself when he sets you down on a clean rock instead of the mud. It takes him only a moment to tie the horse up to a tree and unsaddle them, making a mental note to come back later. For now, he needs to get you inside and treated, silently hoping this shrine is in fact abandoned.

He lifts you again, bringing you through the heavy doors. A part of you wants to voice your concerns over this place now that it’s in front of you, but in all honesty, your mind is too far gone to care.

Toji does stay alert for any bit of noise, feeling for anything out of the ordinary but as far as he can tell, it’s only the two of you here. He hopes it stays like that.

Past the front entrance, there’s a stone pathway that leads up to the sanctuary. To the east and west, there are other buildings, each grand in their own right, but not nearly as pronounced as the one to the north.

Despite the overgrown path on the way up, nothing inside is falling apart. Even the shrubbery is clean and cut, signaling some form of routine care. A worrying sight for Toji, but so long as the rumors prove true, you should be fine.

Toji opts to bring you to one of the buildings along the eastern side. His gut instinct proves correct as you enter what appears to be the building where servants were once housed. If that’s the case, then there’s bound to be supplies in the near vicinity.

“Stay here,” he requests, his voice is calm yet carries palpable tension. “I’m gonna look for some stuff we can use.”

You grab his sleeve before he steps away, your hands shaking in sudden fear. “Don’t leave me…” The words come in the form of a whisper; a pleading look in your glossy eyes. “Please.”

Toji lowers himself to his knee in front of you, so even with your head held down, you’re able to see him. With one hand, he reaches up to your face, brushing the loose hairs behind your ears. It pains him to see you so distraught.

“I’m not going far,” he reassures, his other hand settles around your wrist to help comfort you. “Just need to look for somethin’ to get you cleaned up.”

“Let me come with you then,” you eagerly ask, coughing from the spiked pace.

He sighs. The extent of your injuries are unknown to him and he wants to avoid any further harm until you’ve recovered. It’s bad enough he couldn’t reach you sooner, all because he let his guard down.

“Okay,” he agrees after a moment of thought. “Stay close to me and tell me if you’re hurting.” You nod, sticking faithfully to his side, his arm supporting you as you limp through the halls.

Toji’s able to snag a few robes from the servant quarters ─ something for you to eventually change into. He’d like to find something for himself, but knowing this place, there’s only one option he’d prefer to avoid.

It’s not that he fears a fight with the owner of this shrine, but rather, he’d like to avoid any possible confrontations with you at his side.

Thankfully, it isn’t long before he finds a supply closet of sorts, fitted with cleaning and even medical supplies. Toji grabs a few things he’s sure to need. The next step is finding some fresh water in this place, to which a large basin is found conveniently in the kitchen space.

You stand near the counter, eyeing the calm surface of the water. From the candles illuminating the surface, you’re able to make out a reflection of yourself, and all the horrors that follow.

Your face is dirtied with a layer of soot, grime, and blood in between. Your cheeks are hollowed and bruised from the torture you’ve sustained, and it’ll be a while before you recover from it all, if ever.

The image of yourself is distorted as Toji dips a flask into the pool of water, handing it to you to drink. It doesn’t go down easy, but you need to be hydrated. He then wets a cloth, bringing it slowly to your face, gently wiping away all the filth. Your eyes remain still on the rippling image, tears threatening to fall.

When he’s done with your face, Toji wets the cloth again, this time to assist beneath your robes, but you stop him.

“I-I can do this,” you tell him, but you find it hard to believe your own words. Toji takes the hint, handing you the cloth before turning away.

You want him to see you, but not like this.

Not when you’ve been beaten, assaulted, and used as nothing more than a toy for another’s pleasure ─ his own brother’s twisted pleasure.

It makes you feel broken, defiled, more so terrified that Toji may forever think of you differently now. The boy you’ve longed to see again, and you at your worst.

The evidence remains after all. Caked between your thighs like you yourself are some old, sullied rag. Your whole purpose being to be dirtied by another.

Your ruined marigold robes pool around your feet as you loosen them off, ready to scrub yourself clean. You start slow and gentle at first, increasing in pressure when it won’t come clean ─ when you don’t feel clean again.

Before you know it, the tears in your eyes have broken through, flooding down your face. Sniffles turn to sobs you try to hold back, but the mounting frustration makes it all the more difficult.

It’s not enough.

Your skin quickly reddens and you end up ditching the cloth in favor of your nails, anything to try and fix yourself anew even if it means cutting yourself in the process from the force of your anger.

It’s still not enough.

It feels like the walls are closing in again around you as the cuts worsen and your skin raws. If you can’t feel clean again, then you may as well be back in that cell to rot. You don’t want to be stuck like this forever, but what if you are?

What if there’s nowhere for you to go but back?

Your current freedom is a blessing, but one you aren’t convinced yet is real. The biggest fear you have is that Hanami will find you. She always finds those who leave her. It doesn’t matter that her brothel is a pile of ash.

She always gets what she wants.

What she owns.

But why did it have to be you?

If karma is real, then this all must be your punishment for something. Maybe a mistake in your past life or failing to take care of your family in this life. It’s hard not to blame yourself for how everything turned out if there was something you could’ve done.

Now you just want the pain to end.

For everything to come to a halt so you no longer have to feel it anymore.

A bloodcurdling cry escapes you, aggravating your throat, but immediately Toji grasps your body from behind. You fight it at first, your mind shouting that he can’t see you like this, but he refuses to budge, even securing your wrists to stop any further harm to yourself.

“Breathe.” His voice, soft in your ear, works to try and stabilize you. To bring you back from the edge of the abyss.

Toji lets you cry and break down in his arms, falling to the floor with you, but never failing to keep you close.

This is the first time in your life that you’re free and can allow yourself to feel every emotion you were forced to lock away for self-preservation. He could never take this moment away from you.

After some time, your head falls flat against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of relief. Not a word is shared between the two of you for some time, but his presence is all you need.

It’s all you’ve wanted since the last time you saw him many moons ago.

But he’s here now withyou, and in a way, it’s like he never left. Merely hidden in plain sight ─ unrecognizable until you were ready to be free from trauma’s grasp. If Hanami comes after you now, you won’t be alone, not with Toji at your side to protect you.

With the worst now behind you, you’re able to get the rest of your body clean without much issue. It’s quiet, at least until Toji starts dressing the gashes down your thighs.

“How long?”

Toji hums, subtly encouraging you to continue while wrapping a bandage around your leg

You exhale deeply, nervously biting your lips between your teeth. You don’t have to be afraid with him.

“Back then… in the park.” You pause and his emerald eyes move up to meet yours. He looks curious. Hopeful. “Have you always known it was me since that night?”

That night being when you had “met” Toji in the brothel, unknowingly reuniting and setting forth the events that led you both to this current moment.

“How could I ever forget?” You saved me, he thinks, and a brief minute of silence follows.

Toji finishes the wrapping and then reaches for the pristine white robe he snagged earlier. He stands behind you, helping you into it with careful consideration.

“That promise you made to me all those years ago…” The promise to free you ─ to take you away. “…did you mean it?”

You tie the robe loosely, just enough to cover yourself before turning around to meet his eyes.

The clouds part as you do so, with morning light gleaming through the window behind Toji. Its rays paint the room in warm, amber tones that reflect perfectly in the deepest depths of your eyes.

It’s as if the sun itself chooses to shine if only for you. Or maybe that light comes within you, like it had all those years before when he saw you.

The answer to your question is obvious, with only one possible response he could give. He doesn’t need a sign from the heavens either way to speak from his heart, and he does so, without any hesitation or wavering in his voice.

“Every word.”

You smile, brighter than ever before, even outshining the stars themselves across the skies above. Toji realizes then that there’s still hope of getting you back. Like the mythical bird of fire, you’ll overcome all this pain and come out ethereal once again.

“Then I’ve made my decision.”

☆ Notes: I’ve had to rewrite half this chapter a dozen times over trying to write an emotional breakdown I could be happy about without it sounding weird as hell, especially with dialogue…

But yeah, I had a lot of ideas as to how this chapter would go down, but then I went all in on the trauma and had to push some stuff back but we’ll get to that soon enough :)

☆ Taglist: @fandomtrash5092 @catmania-choco

[feminurge]

one aspect i love about ishtar's character, regardless of universes, is that she is always doomed by the narrative. the consequences of that fact are drastically different depending on exterior parameters, such as her age, her experiences and the company she keeps. but she is always doomed, and she might be trying to bite off the leash it does not matter. the story catches up to her. reminds her who's in charge.

as for istar (bg3 verse), it makes me go feral to think that. her curse is not as much her birth as it is her amnesia. in every verse where she has gone from chaotic evil to a chaotic neutral, it was because she had time to reflect. time to learn. time to grieve. in bg3, that time is not only taken from her, but everything else is: what she loved, her body, her memories, her knowledge. she is barely a ghost of who she was and all she does throughout the adventure is haunt herself. the bloodlust... she barely fights it, because ultimately it is only with someone's life in her hands that she feels real.

even worse, perhaps, than not having the time to grieve is that. her whole adventure is about finding new ways to grieve. at first all she lost is a possible life. what you don't know can't hurt. except she discovers the hunger for carnage and finds no explanation for it: her own mind becomes a foreign and dangerous space. then she discovers parts of what happened to her. is reminded that her body was cut open, sewed back up. what was supposed to be hers is tainted by a stranger's hands. then comes orin. orin who stole her place and her power. orin who stole her memories. orin who has more of istar than istar has of herself. every act is marked by istar realizing how much she has lost, and how much she will never get back.

while she frames it as a story of revenge— against orin, against bhaal, against all gods and men who let atrocity upon atrocity happen to her— in the end, it's mostly a story of grief.

[torpublishinggroup]

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If you’re not Megamind, keep scrolling. Just kidding—this book is also for cat lovers and fans of Despicable Me and The Venture Brothers.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

The Great Hunt by Robert Jordan is for people who loved Season 2 of The Wheel of Time on Amazon Prime

If you have someone in your life that got sucked into the masterpiece that was The Wheel of Time Season 2, don’t worry, you can help them relive the fun with The Great Hunt, the inspiration for the show and the second book in The Wheel of Time series!

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Seventeen: Danger

I'm debating taking a break from posting these for a few days, to try and catch my breath and properly review what I have planned for the rest of the month, so this might be the last one for a little bit. No Tracy Bros in this, but International Rescue is mentioned at the end... kind of. I keep having these stories end on cliffhangers, I'm so sorry! Anyway! I hope you enjoy!

AO3 here

Days: One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen ~ Fifteen ~ Sixteen

Warnings for: Swearing and gang mentions. Kat's new lead guides her towards a very dangerous path. Tagging: @thunder-tober@skymaiden32@idontknowreallywhy@mrmustachious

She really needed to start heeding the warnings that were given to her. Perhaps if she had actually listened to her editor when he told her to drop this exposé, she might have actually stood a chance of getting out unscathed.

Yet here she was instead, trapped in a room spewing God-knew-what kind of gas, and all of it was because she didn’t stop to properly investigate what turned out to be a traitorous lead.

TWO HOURS EARLIER

Kat Cavanaugh sat idly in the chair at her desk. Chopsticks were twirled between her fingers whilst her untouched Kung Pao Chicken she had ordered for lunch became increasingly cold in the oyster pail.

She knew she was staring into space, knew her mind was thinking too hard, but she allowed herself to get absorbed in those thoughts because she was running out of time. The report she had been compiling for next week’s hard-hitting edition of EXPOSED! was looking more and more like a dead-end.

There was nothing Kat hated more than a dead-end.

After a fraught meeting with her editor that morning, who had insisted she drop the article and instead focused on the rehabilitation and redevelopment of the Bay area, Kat had been left with a sour taste in her mouth. She wasn’t going to be ordered around, editor or not. She hadn’t got this far into her career to start taking the ‘easier’ path now. That wasn’t how she had made her name, nor was it how she was going to allow her legacy to end.

Instead of dropping the piece, Kat began to focus on different angles she could take. They had all fallen flat because she still lacked that one, vital component that made a story like this credible: evidence. She had no leads, no quotes, no names, no places… The only way she could think of getting any information now would be to try the police again, which hadn’t ended well last time.

Kat had gone out to buy her lunch, uninspired but not fully without hope, and had returned to a gift she had very much not been expecting.

3pm. Hudson Building. Fifth floor. Details of the Serpents revealed. Tell no-one.

The cyber-crime gang known formally as the Serpent Soldiers, less formally as just Serpents, had been a thorn in everybody’s sides, including Kat’s. All sorts of gangs had steadily been increasing over the last few months, all intent on, in Kat’s opinion, the same outcome. The Serpents were the biggest group in this part of the States, and were the only known gang to cross state borders with their membership.

Of course Kat had chosen to write the exposé on them, foolishly thinking it wouldn’t be as difficult (or as dangerous) as it had inevitably become.

The email she had received seemed too good to be true, but when had Kat Cavanaugh ever listened to rational thinking? So, she decided to keep it to herself as instructed. Her editor, who had been so vehemently against her continuing this story this morning, didn’t need to be aware of it.

All she had to do was think of a suitable reason to leave the office in a couple of hours and—

“Kat? Katherine?”

Her colleague, Nessa, had arrived at her desk at… some point. A look of concern dominated her features. “You alright, Cavanaugh?”

Kat flashed her a quick, reassuring smile, and straightened herself up in her seat. Amid all the daydreaming, she hadn’t realised she’d ended up so slouched. Very professional there, Kat.

“Ness! Hi. Yes, I’m fine. Just.. thinking.”

Nessa’s gloriously painted nails tapped on the takeout box, brow arching. “You shouldn’t eat at your desk, you know? Statistics show that your more likely to do work than take a break.”

“I’m fine, Nes. I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now, that’s all.”

Another nudge of the full box. “Damn right you do! Have you even eaten anything yet?”

Kat swatted her hand away with an amused grin. “Not that plate! You know what I meant.”

“Oh. The Serpent article?”

Naturally, her work on the piece had become a source of office gossip.

“Always aiming too high, that Kat. Never going to get a story out of it.”

“Does she think that because she’s interview International Rescue once that she’s some hot-shot journal now?”

“The Serpents speak to no-one. She’s lucky she isn’t already dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Office gossip was something she was, unfortunately, accustomed to, but it didn’t mean it made hearing her peers talk about her in hushed voices as she passed any less painful to endure. Kat always managed to brush it aside and tell herself that she didn’t care when, truthfully, she felt the opposite.

“It will get done by next week, Nes. I’ve just got to get one, solid, credible lead.”

“Good luck with that.” Nessa patted her shoulder. “I don’t envy your task, Kat.”

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

The Hudson Building was a half-hour walk away from her office, but Kat gave herself more time, just in case. So far this was her only lead and she couldn’t afford to blow it.

The area looked run-down. Many businesses had moved out of the area years ago, leading to graffitied walls and smashed windows in their wake. As mentioned by her editor that morning, the district had been green-lit a renovation project by the Mayor’s office, but Kat was sceptical of that every becoming a reality. The Bay area had been overlooked for years. She didn’t see why it would be any different this time. In her many years of experience travelling the country for her work, Kat had come to the conclusion that cities like this one needed the run-down areas in order for the ‘prettier’ areas to remain profitable.

She pondered her scepticism as she continued her brisk walk, politely offering a dollar or two to a couple of homeless people as she passed them. The thought of the implications of this area of the city being the meeting spot from a very dubious note had not crossed her mind once.

The Hudson Building had been one of the last to become derelict in the area and thus, from the outside, it had fared better than the rest of the street. However as Kat stepped into the building there was immediate evidence of squatter activity in the lobby. Tattered sleeping bags alongside old pizza boxes, drink cans and the occasional discarded needle.

Kat ignored the faint urge in her that screamed to get out. On tip-toes, she carefully trod over the discarded items, an elbow rising to cover her nose from the smell of the damp and filth, to make it over to the elevators which she prayed still worked.

She was in luck.

The fifth floor was cleaner in terms of the lack of squatter activity but thick dust covered the carpeted flooring. Mould grew from damp walls. This was not a place she wanted to stay in for long.

Kat checked her watch. Five to three. The note hadn’t specified where on the fifth floor to meet. She tried all the doors on the floor. She’d almost given up when none of them had opened for her… until she reached the last one. Offices 545-559. This door was unlocked and, unlike the other handles, was not covered in grime.

Flickering lights met her when she entered. Windows had been blacked out, meaning no light from the outside filtered through. Kat switched on the torch on her phone and used it to guide herself through the empty space.

It was a relatively small reception, with doors that led off to different office spaces, she presumed. Again, as before, Kat tried all the doors. This time, it was the door marked 556 that opened. She made a note of the number, in case it became important for her exposé at a later date.

Office 556 was nothing out of the ordinary. It had a desk in the centre, a couple of broken digital screens on top along with a broken holo-projector. The seats were filthy and, like the reception, the single window in the room had been boarded up.

Kat took a few more steps forward, to see if the screens were working, when she heard the door behind her slam and lock.

Shit.

Immediately, Kat made for the door, wrangling with the handle in an attempt to get it to open.

Of course, it didn’t.

“Hey! Whoever’s out there, let me out! This isn’t funny—”

She heard the hiss of the gas first, unable to see or smell it from the colourless and odourless quality. That didn’t matter. Gas was gas and… this wasn’t looking good.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing? Open this door NOW!”

The more she spoke, the more she breathed. The more she breathed, the more gas she inhaled.

Kat began to cough as the gas tickled her throat. Her heart-rate spiked. Fear began to creep in because fuck! She hadn’t told anyone where she had been going. Nobody knew she was here.

She gave up on the door and ignored the gas that was still being vented in from the gap at the bottom, stumbling over to the desk where she’d left her phone. If she was quick, maybe she would be able to call someone before she passed out or… worse.

“God, don’t think about that, Kat.” She mumbled to herself, arms rising to try and get a signal to her phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Kat didn’t feel the floor as she hit it, but she knew she had; harsh bristles from the carpet dug into her cheek. Her vision had blurred and she tried so desperately hard to fight the urge to just pass out. On the floor, the gas inhalation was greater.

The last thing she remembered was a pair of familiar looking, blue boots come into focus in front of her.

She knew those boots.

She could have wept happy tears. They’d somehow found her.

International Rescue.

She was safe.

Of course, with the state Kat was in, it was forgivable for her to jump to the most positive of conclusions but, in reality, the truth was far from her hopeful imagination.

[itusebastian]

Naked Fangs

In the pursuit of adventure, one must find the precise moment to relax and let go of all their problems, even if life keeps insisting on getting in the way.

Sir Carnage's injuries were concerning. Evidently, none of his team members showed any interest in assisting him. He struggled to walk behind the rest. Interrupting Lady Night's mission was not an option. Thus, Sir Carnage persevered, despite the wounds in his chest and the poison coursing through his veins.

Sir Carnage was a seasoned Knight of Darkness, a notable figure within Lady Night’s retinue. He knew that showing any kind of weakness would make him lose his lofty positions within the organization. He had to take advantage of his imposing physiques and endure the pain. 

The other team members seemed unimpressed by the jungle surrounding them. They simply kept walking, hoping the path would lead them to Prince Reginald and Calamity, the blade infused with darkness.

Focused on the present, Sir Malevolence led the group through the dense, moist underbrush. Aware of potential lurking wild beasts, he marched with his sword at the ready. The darkness cast by the towering trees enveloped them until, in the distance, the distinctive sound of river water reached their ears.

Lady Night and Sleevol briefly smiled upon hearing the river afar. They quickly resumed their acts, suppressing any spontaneous reactions. Meanwhile, enchanted by the waters, Miss Terror, the young girl born into the darkness of Draconious, strayed from the group.

She had no time to focus on the mission. Too many days had passed since she left trying the comforts of Zurkaks and felt the refreshing caress of water. Touching it was all she could think of. So, drifting further from the group, wielding Desperation, her dual-bladed sword of darkness with exquisite finesse, she lost herself amid the undergrowth.

Hundreds of birds seemed to beckon her onward. She relished the journey as if an uncontrollable force guided her, ensuring no negative force hindered her path… until her eyes as black as night, seemingly gazing into the very depths of one’s soul, got a glimpsed the flowing water.

The river was even more beautiful than she had imagined. Sunlight glittered on its surface, and Miss Terror couldn't wait a moment longer to shed her clothes and plunge into the water. Time seemed to vanish as she reveled in the gentle touch of the water on her skin.

Miss Terror couldn't stop smiling as she scrubbed her skin, letting the burdens of the journey wash away… until her keen senses detected danger. Miss Terror hid, keeping low in search of the threat. That's when she first saw it—a Hell Hound.

It was unlikely for such a monster to travel alone. They usually roamed in packs, making a confrontation challenging without her armor and Desperation, her dual-bladed sword. Miss Terror needed to find a way back to her belonging before being spotted.

The gaze of another Hell Hound seemed to bore into Miss Terror's back. She slowly turned to see the creature watching. It was too late to prepare for battle. The monsters had already located her. Miss Terror urgently needed to find a way out. These creatures were typically domesticated to guard a territory—this must be the domain of a being even more powerful than... Another Hell Hound appeared, followed by yet another.

Escaping without a fight was becoming increasingly unrealistic. Miss Terror focused on retrieving Desperation, her dual-bladed sword. She began to move towards it, slowly, trying not to draw too much attention, while the four Hell Hounds watched her intently.

Miss Terror saw her chance. Reaching her dual-bladed sword was her only hope for survival. Deciding to leave the water, she started to run. The cold breeze on her skin quickly gave way to the rush of adrenaline.

The Hell Hounds also began their pursuit, charging towards her, smoke billowing from their nostrils. One halted to unleash its fire breath upon the calculate intruder's path.

Miss Terror immediately stopped to dodge the fiery onslaught and turned to face a Hell Hound about to pounce on her. She grabbed the creature, using its momentum to deflect its attack.

The other Hell Hounds positioned themselves between her and her twin-bladed sword. They seemed to understand what the naked woman was seeking.

Miss Terror eyed the red foci inside the snarling creatures' mouths as they slowly closed in. She needed to get past two of them to reach her weapons. Escaping unscathed seemed impossible. Being bitten and burned would hinder her in fulfilling Lady Night's mission. Miss Terror had to find another way.

The remaining two Hell Hounds circled her. Miss Terror was trapped. She braced to attack one of the beasts when Sir Carnage emerged from the shadows. He must have been spying on Miss Terror… but there was no time to ponder that.

Sir Carnage struck one creature with his sword's flat side. He knew a prolonged fight with the Hell Hounds would only buy time for their master to arrive. So, he cleared a path to the swords on the ground and tossed them to Miss Terror.

"Damn voyeur," she thought, catching Desperation, her dual-bladed sword mid-air. Even with his injuries, he couldn't resist spying...

Miss Terror received the swords and spun to face the Hell Hounds behind her. Meanwhile, Sir Carnage hit another Hell Hound with his sword's flat side.

The creature spun on the ground before collapsing. Hell Hounds were small, dangerous in packs, and used to attacking defenseless prey. Realizing they had lost the upper hand, they fled into the underbrush.

Miss Terror felt relieved but noticed Sir Carnage's attentive gaze. She covered herself with one hand and ran to retrieve her clothes. "Could you give me some space to get dressed?" she said.

Sir Carnage felt the sting of cuts from Miss Terror's blades and, after admiring her for one more second, turned away to let her dress.

[nudistjayne]

Naked In Nature

Guest Post by Alexander

The Summer of 2022 brought a couple of extremely hot spells. With the soaring temperatures and a day off I decided to take a drive to the Peak District and did a walk not far from Three Shires Head (a well known beauty spot characterised by winding rivers, mini waterfalls and small pools. I managed to get away from the crowds and found a quiet spot to lay in the sun.  After a short while of sunbathing at a secluded, quiet spot, the temptation took me and I stripped off and submerged myself into the cool water. The feeling was one of exhilaration and a little bit of smugness too as I couldn’t think of a better way to enjoy the sweltering sunny conditions. I looked around and not a soul could see me. 

After a few minutes of in the cool water I made my way to the river bank near where my clothes were laid out. I perched on the river bank and the water bobbed up and down a little reaching about waist height or a little below. I looked up and noticed a small group ambling vaguely in my direction,  as they were paddling in the shallower part of the river downstream. I immediately became fully aware that I was nude (albeit partly covered by the water) and of course to unsuspecting members of the public this sort of activity is quite unusual, my heart started to race a little. I could see and hear that they were getting closer -  they seemed to be in good spirits and were seemingly becoming increasingly amused. At this moment I considered getting out and covering myself up – I didn’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. As I looked over I could now see that the little group was three girls and a guy. Their joviality and giggling got louder and the atmosphere felt relaxed… I decided to stay as I was as the relaxed atmosphere made me feel less self conscious. By this time the group could also see that I was fully  naked and one of the girls struck up conversation with me after I smiled. We remarked on what a lovely spot we’d found and the group continued further past my spot but as they were passing by a couple of them started to find it a little difficult to keep their balance on the rocks, perhaps fair to say that all four of them were somewhat distracted. The group continued about 40 yards further on and they began taking some photos of each other. The laughter continued and they seemed to be having a good time. What happened next was a little unexpected, the blonde girl took off her top and posed topless for a few pictures and then one of her friends followed suit and did the same. The group looked back over towards me and at this point I was beaming. Of course the view I had was enjoyable but the sense of fun and freedom in a random beauty spot in buttoned up old England was great too and it felt like that feeling was shared by all of us.

A few minutes later the group headed back my way and our paths crossed once again. I asked one of the girls to get a pic of me (enclosed in this post)  and she was more than happy to do so. The giggly guy in the group then suggested I had a photo with the girls to which I agreed. The girls were once again covered up so for a bit of fun and sensing their nudist curiosity I decided to politely enquire whether their bikini tops would be staying on. After only a brief moment of hesitancy, the two girls I was posing with whipped off their tops. I was stood fully naked and the group of girls (I’d never met before today) topless as we had a few final pics together.

At this moment one of the group noticed that a family started to become visible in the distance and this was our cue to cover up and go our separate ways. What a joyful, cheeky and fun naked experience.

[heart-gamer]

A Heartbeat Fetish Story that shook the Family

In the quaint town of Riverdale, there lived a young boy named Ethan. From a tender age, he found immense comfort and fascination in listening to his mother's heartbeat. The rhythmic sound became a source of tranquility and a symbol of their unbreakable bond. As Ethan transitioned into adulthood, his fixation on his mother's heartbeat intensified, taking on a different nature. What had once been an innocent connection transformed into a fetish, stirring within him a mix of desire and confusion.

His mother, Sarah, began to sense the shift in his emotions and became increasingly concerned about the impact it could have on their relationship. Unbeknownst to Ethan, Sarah had taken a secret path to sustain their family's financial needs. She had become a well-known heartbeat fetish model, fulfilling the desires of others who shared a similar fascination. Sarah's intention was to shield her son from this aspect of her life, knowing the potential complications it could bring. She was determined to protect him from the truth, even at the cost of denying him the solace of her heartbeat.

One fateful evening, Ethan stumbled upon a video online that shook him to the core. To his astonishment and disbelief, he discovered that his mother, the woman he adored and admired, was working as a heartbeat fetish model. The revelation shattered his perception of their relationship and left him grappling with a mix of emotions—confusion, anger, and even a sense of betrayal. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Ethan confronted his mother about her secret life. Sarah, devastated by the unintended consequences of her actions, realized the pain she had caused her son. With a heavy heart, she opened up about her decision to keep this part of her life hidden, fearing the repercussions it might have on their family dynamic. Initially, the revelation deepened the divide between Ethan and Sarah. The truth had brought their unspoken tensions to the surface, and they struggled to find common ground. However, as time passed, both Ethan and Sarah came to understand the complexities of their situation.

They recognized that love and acceptance could bridge the gap and heal their fractured relationship. Through honest and heartfelt conversations, Ethan began to comprehend his mother's motivations. Sarah, in turn, empathized with the depth of Ethan's fascination and the challenges he faced in navigating his desires. They slowly rebuilt the trust that had been shaken, realizing that their connection extended far beyond their shared fetish. In an unexpected turn of events, Ethan and Sarah decided to confront their fears together. They embarked on a journey where they explored their desires within the context of their newfound understanding. Together, they made videos that showcased their heartbeat, aiming to establish a healthier outlet for Ethan's fascination while also reclaiming control over their own narrative. Through their collaboration, Ethan and Sarah discovered a profound sense of empowerment. They used their experiences to raise awareness about consent, boundaries, and healthy expressions of affection within the heartbeat fetish community. Their united front became a beacon of hope for others, proving that love, understanding, and acceptance could coexist, even in the face of unconventional desires. As the years passed, Ethan and Sarah became advocates for open communication, helping others navigate the complexities of their own relationships and desires. Their shared experience not only strengthened their bond but also touched the lives of countless individuals who found solace and understanding in their story. In the end, Ethan and Sarah's journey served as a testament to the power of unconditional love and acceptance. It reminded them—and others—that genuine connections can withstand even the most unexpected challenges, as long as they are nurtured with compassion and empathy.

[solciego]

If you could write an historical AU (any era ) where they go on some sort of trip or travel that would be fun to read ! :)

The tenderness with which I hold you Words: 1217 Regency au (highly based on Bridgerton xd)

Mikasa definitely needs some time alone.

She wasn't a big fan of balls, and being surrounded by men seeking her attention this season was torture enough. Moreover, considering her aunt was persistently pushing her to marry Viscount Zeke Jaeger, a man much older whom she despised for the disgusting way he looked at her, the situation became even more unbearable.

Ever since reaching the age to marry, her aunt, Kiyomi, had become her shadow, and every social event was an opportunity for her to push her towards an unpleasant marriage and secure an advantageous union. Following the path society expected of her each day was becoming increasingly suffocating. Each time the idea of a convenient marriage with a wealthy man was mentioned, Mikasa felt her freedom and authenticity slowly fading away.

She was ready to give up and remain single for the rest of her life.

Tired of the leering gazes and suggestive comments she had faced at the reception, Mikasa finally decides to find a place to escape from that social charade. She carefully opens the door to the first empty room she finds and unexpectedly encounters Jean on the balcony, finishing smoking a cigarette. Their gazes meet, and Mikasa can notice a hint of surprise in Jean's eyes as he extinguishes the cigarette under his foot.

"I see I'm not the only one seeking some peace," he says with a smile as he approaches her. A faint smile also forms on Mikasa's lips.

"My dance card is filled with dates that will hardly materialize," she replies with a sigh, reflecting her disinterest in social activities.

"It's been a busy season, hasn't it?" Jean asks, trying to keep the conversation light.

She shrugs. "With Historia Reiss as the diamond of the season, my aunt has been more insistent than ever on finding me a husband."

Jean can't help but chuckle; he knew her aunt well and knew how persistent she could be when she had something in mind. "And what's been stopping you so far?" he asks curiously.

"It's just that... All those men are so shallow. The only one who's even remotely interesting is Armin, but I see him more like a brother," Mikasa confesses, revealing her most sincere thoughts. At each ball, she was pushed towards high-status suitors, but none of them sparked even the slightest interest in her. They all seemed to be interested solely in her foreign beauty, and none took the time to get to know her as a person.

Jean ponders for a moment before responding. "You certainly deserve better than that."

Mikasa smiles gratefully at him. "And you?" she asks, recalling that Jean had not found a wife and didn't seem interested in the matter.

"I suppose it's the same for me. They're only interested in my dowry."

As Duke of Trost, Jean held a position and fortune that irresistibly attracted many women interested in securing their future, especially ambitious mothers who saw him as the perfect match for their daughters.

Both fell silent for a moment, sharing a complicity in their struggles against societal expectations.

"Mika... Come with me," Jean suddenly proposes, extending his hand to her. Mikasa looks at him curiously, intrigued by the proposition. "Let's get out of here."

She hesitates for a moment, aware of the social implications of retiring alone with a gentleman. "Jean..."

"Come on, it's not like you have anything better to do."

She shakes her head, concerned about her reputation and what high society would say if they saw her alone with him. "It's improper. If we're discovered, my reputation will be completely ruined."

"If that happens, I won't let it affect your reputation. Trust me," Jean says with a passionate glint in his eyes.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Mikasa finally nods, letting herself be guided by her deep trust in him. She allows Jean to take her hand, feeling the comforting warmth of his touch. He leads her carefully and decisively, ensuring they are not seen as they slip away from the bustling ballroom.

The carriage glides smoothly through the paved streets, choosing less-traveled routes and shaded alleys, creating an intimate atmosphere between the two of them. Mikasa observes Jean, whose eyes shine with an enigmatic glimmer under the soft light inside the carriage. He smiles occasionally, trying to dispel any tension she might be feeling.

Jean keeps his promise to take her to a special place, and when they arrive, the scenery is enchanting. It's a serene stream, surrounded by trees and lush vegetation. The moon shines over the tranquil waters, creating silver glimmers that unfold across the surface. Both sit by the shore, Mikasa hugging her legs, and Jean remaining silently by her side as the night breeze envelops them both.

"I just don't want to marry a stranger," she whispers sincerely.

"What?" The uncertainty in his voice is palpable as he watches her attentively.

Mikasa sighs and searches for the right words to express what she feels. "I think that's why I've taken so long to consider marriage. I don't want to settle for a forced or meaningless union. I want something authentic. I am more than just a mere title or someone to be joined with for convenience. I want someone to see me for who I am, not just as a wife or a decorative figure in their life."

Mikasa's confession flows with sincerity and passion, like a confident whisper that rises in the nocturnal air. She glances briefly at Jean from the corner of her eye, and under the silvery light of the moon, she can appreciate his face framed by his incipient beard.

However, he doesn't return her gaze, and in a desperate impulse, Jean rushes to her side and takes her hand firmly in his. The warmth of their skin blends together. "Marry me," he blurts out, his words echoing his own desires and dreams.

Mikasa opens her eyes, surprised by his unexpected declaration. "What?" she responds, trying to process what she has just heard.

Jean searches for the right words to explain what he feels deep within his being. "We've known each other since we were little. We've been there for each other in the toughest moments. I've seen every part of you, Mika, your strengths, and your insecurities. And you've seen mine too. We know the best and worst of each other, and yet, we're still here. Together."

Jean continues to gaze at her with his deep hazel eyes, a look full of hope and longing. For some reason, his expression is desperate, as if he were struggling to convey a million things at once.

Mikasa's heart quickens. He is right; she knows him better than anyone else, and he knows her in a way no one else does. They have shared laughter, tears, and secrets. There is a connection between them. Moreover, Jean holds a position of great influence and responsibility in high society. She knows her aunt would be thrilled with this union, making it convenient in more than one sense.

"Jean, I..." she stammers, her thoughts in conflict. But before she can finish her sentence, he looks at her with such intensity that her words fade into the air.

"Marry me, Mikasa," he insists. "Let me be the person who sees you for who you are."

[joylinda-hawks]

Brother Cao, see? Hasn't this turned into a memorial service? WOH, episode 35, part 2. On MHY's orders, his students start fighting, drawing swords hidden in gift boxes. GX picks up CWN's body and understands that he is dying. With the last of his strength, CWN looks at his fiancée and shakes her hand. He tries to tell her something, but he dies. GX mourns the body of a loved one. Tangled, she embraces CWN's body in her arms. GX speaks up and asks CWN if he sees that this wedding has become a memorial service. When he says this, he can't hold back the tears. At the same time, one of the followers of the MHY sect runs to the drum and gives a signal. The gates open and a surprised group of ghosts peek outside. Members of other sects hidden in the bushes attack the Ghost Valley . At the entrance to the valley, a clash breaks out between both groups. The attackers easily defeat the small group of ghosts and run inside. WKX is startled by the sounds coming from outside and gets up from his throne. He asks why they are beating the drum again, ZZS, ZCL, DW and JBY standing next to them are also confused. WKX runs towards the entrance and the others run after him. Armed cult members run into the main hall of Ghost Valley and attack. The ghosts start fighting and GX continues to sit next to CWN's corpse, but soon joins the fight herself. The girl notices the fighting MHY, which is her next target. MHY sees GX attacking him. Anger and despair rob GX of his senses and he fights under the influence of emotions. MHY has experience and doesn't make mistakes. The two fight, but MHY has the upper hand over the increasingly exhausted GX, losing one of her swords from her hands and knocking the crown from her head. The girl's elaborate hairstyle is in disarray. MHY cuts reach GX and hurt me. Despite everything, GX continues to fight. She remembers her first meeting with CWN, who invited her for a meal and asked her name. Desperate, GX attacks MHY again. He remembers CWN saying that once he told everything to his master, he would throw CWN a big wedding and take GX home. GX attacks the students of the MHY sect and hears CWN say that if he can't be with her, he will never know happiness. She also hears further words telling her not to worry because CWN will never leave her. When he wants to attack MHY, he remembers her words that she is leaving Jianghu, they can open a cookie or cosmetics shop. They can raise cows and farm the land. They can do whatever GX wants. MHY dodges the blow and mortally wounds the girl. GX falls to the ground. WKX then appears on the edge of the rock and looks down in horror. GX knows that CWN is dead and her only destiny is to bring justice and kill MHY. She is aware that her fighting skills are far inferior to those of the old master, but she also knows that she is on a path from which there is no return. This heartless old monster took the one she loved the most. That's why he fights, even if he has to lose his life in the fight. While fighting, he draws strength from shared memories with CWN. This hatred towards MHY gives her strength. MHY is an experienced fighter and fighting a girl is not a problem for him. He plays with her like a cat plays with a mouse. WKX, ZZS and their friends don't know what's going on. Only WKX understands the scale of the tragedy unfolding in Ghost Valley. A dynamic and heartwarming scene. Every viewer wants so much for GX to achieve its goal, but they know that it is not possible. GX's despair shown by the young actress is clear.

[coloringthegreyscale]

A Different Reading of “You Will Be Okay” (Or at least how I’ve come to see it)

I think for the entire duration of my time here in the fandom, the general consensus is that Stolas’s lullaby to Octavia stands for his demise - be it just eventual or a literal apocalypse - it’s been overall seen as this prophetic song about when Stolas leaves Via forever and how she’ll be okay despite that.

The extended version of the lyrics have even fueled several theories that Stolas won’t make it out of the series alive and Octavia is some immensely powerful being that will overcome it all.

And that’s all well and good but over my repeated listening of the song, I’ve come to wonder - is that all there is?

To help make this make sense, let’s put the song back into the context of the episode that features it - Loo Loo Land.

Now I could go on about how this is still my favorite episode (because it is) and I think it’s probably the best episode that can stand on it’s own (because I do) and how it not only set the tone to what we would come to expect of the show itself but overall set the bar to what the show could fully deliver (because I think it does).

We can save that for another day.

Right now, we need to focus on one of the overall takeaways of Loo Loo Land - and that’s Octavia’s intense fear of Stolas abandoning her.

Because that’s what the big sticking point to their conversation actually is, isn’t it? It’s what ties the entire episode back to the nightmare she has at the beginning and I’d challenge that it’s ultimately what the entire episode is about. It’s not a huge reach, of course. It’s kind of right there, but let’s continue.

The entire episode, Octavia struggles with feeling out of place. The joyful home  and family that was so expertly crafted for her (by Stolas) is in disarray, there is no more hiding the misery that is her parents’ marriage, and not only that but her perfect father, who was always her hero, is (in her eyes) the one who’s not just pulled back the curtain - but has fully torn it down and is currently about to burn it.

But what does “You Will Be Okay” have to do with Octavia’s fear of being abandoned?

Well - it’s Stolas’s perspective of the same sentiment.

What I’m saying is “You Will Be Okay” isn’t entirely about when Stolas meets his final end - it’s about when Octavia is grown up, no longer needs him and... has to leave him behind.

The apocalypse he describes, the way he sings about Octavia being this supernatural event in the extended version - it’s all about her becoming his very reason to continue existing, the only light in his life. She has become his everything.

But he knows that in time she will grow up. She will become her own person. It’s as inevitable as the end times and his own demise.

She won’t need him anymore.

His entire life and purpose as he knows it ends.

But he knows she’ll still be okay.

I know there is a lot of critics on Stolas’s character, specifically of him as a father in Loo Loo Land. And no, I’m not going to argue that taking your teenage daughter to a theme park she liked when she was a toddler is going to fix your problems. It was a very very bad idea.

But I would argue about Stolas being oblivious to how old Octavia actually is. I’m very certain that he has become increasingly aware of how old she is. And as his life is taking a path he’d long given up on in his mind (however messed up and rocky that path is going to get), along with Via getting closer to the age he assumed she would no longer need him...

Well, that goes back to what Loo Loo Land I think is supposed to be about.

It’s about figuring out family and adjusting and making room and making sure the people you care about don’t get left out as life changes.

Because Stolas knows he isn’t going to leave Via behind.

And in turn, he learns that she won’t leave him behind either.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 17 - Collar

Scogan Bingo challenge Dessert

That this mission would be an ugly one had been clear from the moment, Scott had learned, Marie and Logan had been kidnapped right off the damn street by some Weapon X goons, of all people, effectively ruining what should have been these two's first mission together after Marie's official appointment to the team. Some kind of trauma waiting for everyone involved at the end of that day? That had been a no-brainer, really. No matter how much Marie had been working her ass off since Alkali Lake to become a valuable fighter in Scott's group and though he was perfectly aware, she would happily suck the life out of him with her bare hand in a death grip around his balls if he'd ever admitted that to her face … That girl still was half a teenager.

Especially after losing a woman Scott had loved to this fucking job not too long ago, it had taken a lot of convincing from both Charles and Logan until he'd reluctantly given in regarding filling Jean's spot among the X-Men with some fresh blood as it was, painfully aware that sooner or later, that would not only be a figure of speech. Naïve as he sometimes still was, even after 15 years in the field, he'd just hoped to have at least a couple of months to go without another catastrophe. After almost running himself entirely into the ground following Jean's demise, barely saved from that particular abyss by a certain other team member whom he'd lately come unexpectedly close to … All Scott needed right now was a fucking break. Sadly, the life of a superhero was rarely considerate of such childish hopes. There was a lot of disillusioning terror about to unload onto their newest fellow warrior; Scott had no illusions about that when he gathered his people in the Blackbird that afternoon, starting up the engines hectically. Cursing under his breath, he followed the path of their missing team members' tracker signals quickly moving north on one monitor with his gaze while maneuvering his beloved jet out of the hangar so quickly, he almost grazed the not-quite-yet open hatch with one wing. Ororo's disapproving frown from the co-pilot seat, he regarded only with a tense shrug. With how things had gone between Logan and him in the last few months, the others probably thought this development was why Scott found it increasingly hard to keep his usual cool about leaving for another possibly deadly quest, and in the very place where Logan had once been tortured beyond comparison and where the X-Men had suffered their worst blow so far no less. But that wasn’t why Scott had to clench his hand so exaggeratedly hard around the stick that day, to hide even from his own blurred sight how much it was shaking.

Logan came with the powers, and in spite of his ongoing amnesia with the experience, too, to deal with another few hours in this insane people's horror cabinet. Scott had spent enough nights lately, holding and talking his partner through one of his PTSD attacks after particularly bad nightmares to be certain of that.

Marie, for reasons of her skin-reactionary mutation alone, would have no one to comfort her like this if this whole thing went as Scott feared, especially not since Bobby had fucked off to run and live alone after Alkali Lake, breaking all those big promises he'd made to the girl about being able to deal with her gift beforehand. The only other person Marie was really close to was probably just being cut into neat little pieces right in front of her eyes, up there in that damn rebuilt Alkali Lake facility. Goddamnit, just when Scott had thought he couldn’t hate these bastards and their whole inhumane illegal experiment fetish even more.

"Focus, my young Captain," a sonorous voice from the seat behind him warned him, a broad blue paw coming to rest on his shoulder when Scott had to correct the jet's position for the fourth time within ten minutes because he just couldn’t concentrate on the radar properly. "It's only been an hour since we got the alert from their car. And their vehicles don’t fly with Shi’ar tech. It's perfectly possible we'll arrive there before they do. We can still get them out of there in time." As so often, the level-headed, analytic mind of a long-lost-thought former team member who had been doing a great job replacing Jean at least in the sick bay after Alkali Lake, helped Scott clear the disturbing fog of his emotions as well. Aim that energy he'd need to come up with a suitable plan as soon as they would be able to tell how much had changed at those damn laboratories since their last disastrous visit there. With a little grimace, he shook out his arm when he realized how tensely he'd really been holding on to that damn stick, an old sting throbbing in his shoulder from some sparring less than a week ago with Marie when she'd almost ripped his damn arm from his socket.

No, physically there was little doubt, the group's rookie would be doing hopefully okay in a confrontation with an unknown number of hostiles. But the biggest traces Logan had walked away with from his own encounters with these psychos were famously located on his soul, and not only because his healing factor rarely allowed scarring.

With a sigh, Scott finally gave in to Ororo's impatient gesture from the neighboring chair and swiped over the brightly blinking display combination that would sign the navigation over to her console. An hour of sitting on the floor cross-legged somewhere in the rear should hopefully ban these useless considerations from his mind. Meditation was something he'd never used to believe in before getting together in some loose relationship with a certain feral, of all people. But something that helped keep even Logan's sometimes so untamable instincts in check probably couldn’t hurt, Scott's own betimes over-obsessive brain stay on the correct course. "You know, I told her I'd only give her one of those uniforms if she was sure she wouldn’t come to regret it. It's not only been six damn weeks."

Ororo reached out to stop him by his wrist when he moved to get up, regarding him with a patient headshake. "We were all surprised you made it through six weeks of her nagging and complaining before you sent her off to that recruitment run with Logan. The guy's been watching your depressed butt ever since our last mission at this place, Scott. He was there when I was certain for weeks after we lost Jean, that I'd find you drowned in your own vodka vomit and tears one morning." Almost a year, and there was still that suspiciously rough tone in Ororo's bright voice at the mention of her best friend's name, that vengeful stare in her black eyes that she tried to hide in vain behind her long white fringe before pulling herself together and turning back to the controls, to Scott's reflection mirrored in them. "I have no idea how he did that, but don’t you think you can trust him to be her shield, too?"

"No idea how he does it either," Scott gave back with a slightly embarrassed shrug, realizing Logan's and his occasional nightly visits in each other's apartments on the teacher's floor had gone even less unnoticed than they'd half and half hoped. Not that Scott had ever been bothered a lot by people gossiping about his love life. He'd honestly had worse headlines. Besides, right now, he'd even put up happily about some think piece regarding Logan's and his alleged kink preferences in the goddamn Daily Bugle if only that meant he wouldn’t have to read a damn obituary or two there tomorrow instead. "Let's just hope, with her, he won't have to. We've left enough blood in that damn lake, 'Ro."

"No more." Ororo squeezed his arm for another brief moment and then released him with a vague nod backward so that he could find the desired few minutes of peace before the new action and drama to be expected.

*****

"I got them." Scott wasn’t sure Ororo and Hank would even be able to hear him over all that screaming, the gunshots, and pained yells – the latter fortunately only from the enemies' side – that he could make out through the open radio line. For now, it didn’t matter either. Too relieved he was that apparently, all that fretting and self-blame over his latest staff decision had been for nothing, as he strode further into the room, locking the door behind him once he was sure he was alone with his missing teammates. A single look at their restrained, partly battered shapes was enough to know, Scott would need all the time he'd asked Ororo and Hank to buy him to free the others, after they'd already wasted far too much of it, making their way into the newly constructed labyrinth of their destination's underground passages unseen. It was both better and worse than he'd feared; Scott already made a mental note that he'd probably have to spend the next few days in Logan's apartment nonstop, making sure that this new most unpleasant encounter with his lover's worst enemies wouldn’t be haunting Logan too badly at night.

But from all he could see in the dark of that moldy cell that the strong flashlight from Scott's belt couldn’t help much, those sick bastards had at least indeed only tried to get through to Logan with their usual primitive methods. Trying to win him back for their psychotic causes once again probably, until the X-Men's arrival had interrupted their sick fetishes. And these assholes hadn’t even given their favorite prisoner a goddamn break when swarming out to try and rid their precious facility of the intruders.

But Marie's bent-over shape, chained to some hook in the ceiling, seemed unmarred at least. Her lips were bleeding a little from where they were stretched by a too-large gag, and her beautiful dark brown eyes were wide open, filled with a hint of fear that Scott had not seen in her in a long time. But her uniform had no tears, her stubborn movements as she tried to free herself from the cuffs around her wrists revealed no impairment of any kind. Only the same broad, red blinking collar around her neck that endangered Logan significantly prevented her from using that super strength she'd recently acquired after touching one of her accidental victims for too long.

All in all, the whole thing was a valuable lesson for both of them regarding the respect for a deadly job and the faith in one's teammates, Scott thought bitterly, as he signaled Marie to stay put, after making sure with a quick Shi’ar signal scanner from his belt there were no cameras or microphones in the room alerting unwanted company anytime soon. He'd have loved to get the girl out of that uncomfortable strappado position immediately, a sight promptly provoking a painful phantom twinge in Scott's own shoulders. For all their bloodlust and ruthlessness, these Weapon X bastard sure as fucked lacked creativity. But freeing Logan from his painful predicament took priority. At least if Scott wanted his lover to walk out of these damn halls on his own two legs. Therefore reluctantly ignoring the headshake from Marie and the muffled whine from her lips, Scott bent over the examination table that Logan was being tied to, seemingly entirely out of it, and rested his hand on his lover's forehead, worried to find it not only bathed in sweat but far too hot.

These fuckers must have cut Logan's femoral artery open a few minutes ago already. Cut – butchered, literally, whole pieces of his flesh ripped from his side and his leg as if someone had torn it out with their bare hands …

For a second time today, Scott had to push deeply rooted hatred and panicked worry back into the furthest corner of his soul lest he'd just rip his VISOR off and shoot a long, deadly blast through this whole damn facility, making these bastards pay for what they kept doing in particular to the man he loved. Not now.

The rest of Logan's uniform at least was still somewhat intact, no other injuries being apparent that Scott could make out at first glance. It was only a matter of picking the lock of that damn inhibitor collar, then those gruesome wounds would close within seconds. By the time Scott would be finished with doing the same for Marie, guy would be back on his feet already, from all Scott had ever seen of that impressive healing factor.

Then they could regroup with the others and get the hell out of here, preferably after blowing this damn facility to fucking pieces for a second time …

"Hands off, Slim."

Scott's fingertips hadn’t even grazed the collar when Logan's voice unexpectedly had him startle back. His limited vision in combination with the bad lighting in here had tricked him. His lover sounded far more awake than anyone with so little blood in their body should be. "Lie still. I'll get you out." He held Logan down by his shoulder when his lover weakly started to struggle against the cuffs around his blood-covered wrists, cranking his head away from Scott with a warning hiss.

"You don't want to touch that," Logan snarled, his eyes darting over to that corner where Marie was cowering, wide with worry for someone he cared for a lot …

And only now Scott realized, he'd got it all wrong a second time. Logan wasn’t the one whose life was in danger. "What does it do?"

"Lock's connected by radio to some switch in the kid's collar. You open it, blades inside that thing will cut her head off. You better be fucking quick, Slim. No idea if that damn mechanism's got a remote ignition, too." Unlike Scott, Logan didn’t even try to keep his increasingly slurred words to a muffled volume not to frighten their young teammate – that was long yesterday's news. They were far beyond sugarcoating. "Forget it," he snapped at Scott when Scott regarded his dangerous injuries with another restless glance, rummaging in his belt for something to at least slow those terrible bleedings down. "Get her out of that thing, now. You hesitate, people die. We don’t wanna learn that lesson around here a second time."

Scott hated Logan for conjuring up that one, that worst pain in his soul in that crucial moment of an impossible decision of all times, and at the same time wanted to kiss those too-dry, insolent lips, out of pure relief that they still could spew that necessary lesson. And out of gratefulness for a much-needed kick in the ass. Sadly, there was no time for that right now either. Not even for using the couple of tools he'd come up with from his belt by the time he knelt down next to Marie, carefully coaxing her to lift her head as much as the painful bondage allowed, making use of her suppressed powers for a brief, soothing caress over her far too-cold hands. With how little he was seeing in here and no idea how the trigger for those deadly weapons he could all but see embedded inside that far too thick collar, was connected to the lock, it was a guessing game, opening that thing without making exactly the wrong movement. "Yeah, this is not gonna work. I have to find a key for this thing."

"By the time you do, we'll both be ghosted," Logan stopped him as sharply as he could still manage with how alarmingly quickly his strength was leaving him. "Or we'll all be particle dust because these lunatics will rather blow this whole facility up a second time with everyone in it than waste a chance to get rid of some of the most powerful of us. Just shoot the damn thing in two, Slim."

"You want me to shoot at her neck." Scott's stomach promptly clenched even worse than this noon when they'd learned about their teammates' dangerous fate.

A disbelieving glance at Logan's ashen, pained grimace sadly had him suspect, that had not been an especially tasteless joke. Bleeding out from a dozen spots at once, even a Wolverine obviously lost his humor. "The collar, not her neck if it's not asked too much," Logan growled at him through his arduous, worryingly slow breathing. "Quit the drama and move, Slim. We're short on time."

"Logan, I can impossibly …" Scott paused, at a total loss, and not only because several, terribly familiar kind of vibrations and the noise of small explosions in the neighboring hallways revealed, they would indeed have to hurry. When Logan just glared at him from his stretcher with feverish eyes and he turned his gaze back to Marie, he was staring into still scared-looking but very determined, flashing pupils, a challenging, impatient nod downward at that damn collar following that was just waiting to kill this damn kid cowering there right in front of Scott …

Only Marie was no longer a kid, hadn’t been for a while. She was a confident young woman early weathered by her burdening mutation and all the losses and tragedies she'd had to encounter since coming to live with Charles. And even on days like this when all the weight of this dangerous job was on her thin shoulders, she was less intimidated than even Scott himself. Marie had faced and beaten death too often already to not flip it off in good old Logan-style when it reached out its spidery hand for her neck, literally.

"Keep away from the blade mechanism," Logan urged him again, seeing Scott fight his inhibition reluctantly. "Breaking piece should be at the back of her neck. Low-pressure blast. You don’t want to shatter her spine. Don't!" he interrupted Scott sharply before he'd even taken a breath, his fingertips leaving the control wheel of his VISOR again already. Logan's voice was shaking dangerously as the exhaustion of his lousy condition threatened to drain his strength. "Christ, Slim, I've seen you coring apples for the kids at breakfast with that damn thing on your eyes. You never got any of your people killed. You're not gonna break that streak now," he added quietly, the never-forgotten grief choking him for a moment that they'd bonded over so deeply back then. Enough for Logan to know exactly what was haunting Scott so much in these moments when maybe for the first time in the field at all, he felt afraid. "Now."

Before he could hesitate for another second and be responsible for them all biting it, because someone in the control center of that damn lab would lose it, Scott reached for his VISOR again and took his shot.

****

"I told you I'm not hungry." Grumbling, Logan turned away from the bedroom door and buried his face in his pillow, apparently determined to continue being an ass about his weakened condition after already refusing to let Hank put him on a drip on the flight home or check up on him on the sick bay.

In this case, Scott had the best arguments to convince his lover to let himself be spoiled though, whether Logan liked it or not. "Marie spent two hours in the kitchen, cooking for you. She said to tell you, if she doesn’t see an empty plate on this tray tomorrow morning, she'll choke you back out personally."

"Kid's spending too much time with me." Indeed, Logan sounded amused more than cranky at once. With a still unnerved sigh, he arduously sat up a little on the mattress, regarding Scott with a withering glance when he stacked a couple of pillows in his back, which Scott masterfully ignored.

Demonstratively, he put down that tray on his lover's legs and pointed at the delicious-smelling grilled chicken and a whole mountain of mashed potatoes, both basically drowning in a whole bottle of BBQ sauce. "Help yourself. Dessert's on me, by the way."

"I don't need dessert, especially not after this." Logan was too grumpy from the weakness in his reloading cells to even catch on the suggestive grin on Scott's lips. "What are you doing here anyway? It's past midnight. You got classes at eight. Get some sleep. Not gonna die on you here in the middle of the night, don’t worry."

"You should realize by now I'd not gonna let you anyway," Scott answered calmly, determined for once to not let Logan provoke him too badly, not after a day filled with so much blood and death, the latter fortunately only with regard to their enemies. Dipping one fingertip into that mess of brown and yellow on Logan's plate, he playfully licked it off to give Logan a better idea of what was to come but gestured over the still almost untouched food then, one eyebrow raised.

Logan let out a dramatic sigh and finally reached for the fork, eating away unceremoniously, quickly and silently, only occasionally throwing Scott a suspicious side glance, not quite sure what to make of his nervous fidgeting on the bed, of his occasional blush as Scott was imaging how the rest of that night would go.

The humiliating loops he'd have to jump through soon had been Marie's idea too, of course, and Scott wasn’t thrilled … But after almost having lost his lover today, he wanted to personally see to Logan being back on his feet as quickly as possible. If that included a mess that Scott's neat freak heart wouldn’t be too happy about, and feeling like an idiot for a hot minute … Well, he was pretty sure, Logan would find ways to make him forget that. Only when there was really nothing left on that plate and Logan had emptied almost the whole jug with orange juice, too, Scott got up from the bed with a satisfied nod. "I'll tell Marie you've been a good boy and see to that dessert in my apartment. Take a shower and come by in ten minutes." With a cheerful whistle, grinning to himself about Logan's increasing confusion, he went to put his plan into action.

****

Considering Logan's irritated mood, Scott wouldn’t have been surprised if his boyfriend had never shown up, but that whole truckload of carbs had apparently revived Logan's energy at least enough to spark curiosity. The rest, a surge of adrenaline seemed to do when he entered Scott's bedroom, to the sight of Scott waiting for him naked, covered in nothing but half a bottle of chocolate sauce and a bit of strategically placed whipped cream. After just staring at him with his mouth hanging open, Logan buried his face in his hands with a dry chuckle and shook his head slowly. If it hadn’t been for that quickly building tent at the front of his loose dark night pants, Scott would have had to seriously worry, he'd scared his lover off with that unbearably mushy idea.

Only when Logan looked at him again and Scott suddenly saw a suspicious glistening in those beautiful hazel eyes, he understood … And there was promptly a thick lump forming in the back of his throat as well. Neither of them said it, not yet. For that, it hadn’t been long enough yet, and they were both still processing the loss, each in their own way … But maybe knowing for sure now that they were perfectly suited to do that together, in spite of all differences, not least because they were ready to go through the necessary sacrifices for the other if necessary … That might be more than enough for the moment. "Come 'ere?"

"So that we're both gonna be a mess? Not gonna happen," Logan smirked, his cheeks increasingly flushed, that deep, determined tone creeping into his voice that Scott had very quickly learned to listen to in their nights together unless he wanted to put up a fight. Which he was rarely in the mood to.

For that, he enjoyed it far too much, handing over the reins to someone he could trust with his body and life not only in the field. Submitting, surrendering his pride, always meant a few blissful hours of forgetting everything making life so difficult for both of them, and that was all that counted. So he didn’t hesitate when Logan snapped his fingers at him, nodding at the ground before the bed, not moving an inch from his spot by the door until Scott had gotten up, his own cheeks inevitably blushing when Logan traded spots with him and he was now standing before his lover nude and decorated like this in all sticky glory.

"You keep this up, I'm gonna be too heavy for active duty soon," Logan murmured fondly, heated, another twitch of need going through that bulge at his front when he reached out to run two fingertips through that mess covering Scott's chest and licked them clean with an audible purr. "I'm gonna have to take it back though: You can cook."

"Logan …" It was impossible for Scott to keep that needy whine out of his voice, his own arousal growing by the second which only that thick, sugary mass of white all over his loins was more or less hiding. But the smallest attempt to reach out for his lover was rewarded with his wrists being caught in a firm grip by supernaturally fast reflexes, guiding him to take his hands behind his back. Right. Definitely one of those nights. "You know I'm still responsible for making you eat up, right?"

"And the best thing about that? We have all night," Logan answered unfazed, looking up at him in amusement, his eyes sparkling as he slowly licked his lips until Scott let out another low moan, his body soon shaking only from being kept waiting and tense like that, turned on more by the second by that piercing, hungry glance. "But since you did a great job today, you deserve a little treat." Unexpectedly burying his strong, large hands in Scott's bare butt cheeks, Logan licked a long, greedy stripe over his chest, and another one when Scott whimpered in want. Within seconds, he'd reduced Scott to a writhing something, never letting him out of his punishing grip as he covered every inch of his shoulders, his pecs, his stomach, with his firm, slow sucking movements, sure to clean every smallest bit of sauce off of him before finally turning to the sensitive, tender skin of his nipples.

A harsh, teasing bite drew a quiet scream from Scott's lips, his hips thrusting forward instinctively, his messy loins pressed against Logan's stomach leaving some of that half-molten, cool cream on his lover. Unable to stifle his desire any longer, Scott finally buried his trembling hands in Logan's hair, a hoarsely whispered plea on his lips, shuddering when Logan still ignored him, soothing his aching nipples with a few soft licks until those spots too were impeccably clean, tightened and pebbled with lust. "More, please …"

"After you made such a mess? Don't think so, Slim." Feigning strictness, Logan pushed him away a little with one hand and scooped up the cream that had ended on his pecs with the fingertips of the other, this time not licking the white, thick mass off though as a lewd smirk spread on his lips. "Got a pretty good idea where this is going though." Not giving Scott a second to think about a probably once more not exactly sanitary plan, he unexpectedly lowered his head to Scott's loins at last. Slowly, inch by inch removing all of that unhealthy sweetness from there too, his iron grip on Scott's hips held him in place while Logan's cream-slippery fingertips were back on his cheeks, dipping between them, teasingly circling the hidden opening there. With his clever lips finally wrapping around the head of Scott's rock-hard cock, Logan chased away any possible protest before Scott could even come up with it, a cautious, slow fingertip breaching him at the same time.

The assault from two sides after so much foreplay was almost enough to make him come on the spot. With a substance not exactly meant for that use though, that stretch was still a challenge which made holding back easier. Scott's hands clawing down on Logan's scalp, he was quickly fighting to stay on his feet as the muscles in his lower body clenched hard, unfulfilled need throbbing through his veins as Logan's teasing tongue bathed every inch of reddened skin, of his swollen, heavy balls, before that deft mouth slipped back over his cock, swallowing him down bit by bit. A second finger buried deep inside him at that point, unerringly hitting his most sensitive spot, it took only a few desperate quick thrusts until Scott was all but hit from behind with his orgasm. He was all but crashing into Logan's arms and was glad when his lover pulled him down next to him for a lewd kiss full of salt and sweetness, moaning against his lips when Scott instinctively reached for him, finishing Logan off for the first time that night with a few unceremonious strokes as well. A breathless chuckle on his lips, Scott sank back on the mattress, wiping his hand clean discreetly on the towel he'd spread there earlier to not make a complete mess of the sheets. "Well, that takes care of the mission Feeding Logan, I guess."

"Shut up," his lover rumbled, still sounding quite breathless but finally back to his full energy and very sated, before curling up by his side with a tired moan, with his head heavy on Scott's chest.

And just like that, for the first time since the disastrous first mission at Alkali Lake almost a year ago, Scott felt happy again.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[guizh0ng]

Remember

Chapter 2: Workplace Experience

Sora looks exhausted even though the day is just starting, which is understandable considering everything she's been through.

Despite the fact that she's trying to get used to her new name, she can't shake the feeling that it doesn't feel like a suitable choice.

She may have settled on 'Sora' for now, but it's clear that it's not a name that she's completely warmed up to yet.

Additionally, she might have preferred other options like 'Vivianne' or 'Vagatha', as those names sound more fitting to her preference and personality.

Regardless of her feelings towards her new name, Sora will have to learn to accept it, as there was no turning back now.

The room was silent, with only Sora's own presence. As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't help but let out a deep sigh, having accepted her reality, albeit reluctantly so.

Sora finally mustered up the courage to step out of her dormitory and face the day ahead. Upon exiting the room, she was immediately greeted by Nemo, whose energetic demeanour was palpable, even at such an early hour.

"Goodmorning!" Nemo jested, his enthusiasm really contrasts Sora's tired demeanor right now.

"..Ohayō" Though it was a late reaction, Sora still responded to his greeting as the both started walking through the hallway side by side.

"So..Sora huh? Hey, I can call you something now! I don't have to call you Miss anymore!" Nemo stirred off a conversation, trying to get Sora engaged in it but she remained silent with a nod although she wanted to respond desperately.

"Yeah Iris told us everything during dinner! Welcome to the agency by the way! I can't wait to have you hear about the different sections and codenames, oh your gonna love it!" Sora follows Nemo, who surprises her by taking her hand, then runs through the halls, ignoring her hesitation.

While the duo hastily rushed along, they crossed paths with other individuals such as Sara, Yamir, and Adrianne, who were stationed in the hallway in a conversation.

As Sora and Nemo drew near, Adrianne spotted them and took notice. She proceeded to halt the two, waving at them as she gave them a warm and friendly greeting "Oh, it's you two! Hello!"

The other two meanwhile just waved and then went back into their own little conversation.

"Goodmorning Adriann–"

"Ah, your names Sora right, good! Congratulations on not being nameless!" Adrianne strategically interrupted Nemo's stride, causing the girl to momentarily redirect her attention to Sora.

The latter appeared somewhat flustered by the unexpected turn of events, briefly bowing her head in acknowledgment of Adrianne's gracious act.

"So..where are you two headed to?" Adrianne queries.

"Oh y'know, we're just heading to the kitchen! Iris and Amara are cooking breakfast so it'll be great, I hope I get some tea though" Nemo waltz in once again in the conversation, took the chance where Adrianne won't be interrupting her as he stepped closer beside Sora.

"Hah, okay..you two together?" The uneasy tone in her voice caught Sora's attention, which sparked her curiosity. Sora wondered if perhaps there was something Adrianne knew that she did not.

The two nodded to her question obediently.

"Alright then! Go on!, oh and goodluck on your stay here at the agency, Sora! Remember to always be aware for your enemies" Adrianne swiftly shifted her demeanor back to a cheery and cheerful one, patting Sora's shoulder lightly.

However, as Sora locked eyes with Adrianne for a moment, she detected a hard stare that seemed to convey an unspoken message.

The glint in Adrianne's eyes was seemingly conveying something that may have been important to Sora, causing her to become increasingly alert and curious.

__________________________________________________

As Sora and Nemo entered the kitchen, they saw Iris preparing buttered bread and Amara busily engaged at the stove counter, preoccupied with whatever was responsible for the tantalizing aroma that had permeated the room.

"Heyyyy, Iris! Amara! Goodmorning!" Nemo took the initiative to extend a friendly greeting to Iris and Amara upon entering the kitchen. Both ladies reciprocated his enthusiasm, turning to acknowledge him and greet him in return.

"Oh hey, Goodmorning Nemo!" Amara responded with an enthusiastic wave of her mixing spoon in the air, raising the utensil above her hand and waving it from side to side in an animated manner.

"Goodmorning Nemo" Iris, in turn, responded, taking a bite from the slice of bread she was just buttering, tasting the savory substance with glee.

With the brief greetings exchanged, Sora chose to take a seat on the kitchen counter close to Iris, while Nemo preferred to maintain a standing position, opting to munch on a chunk of apple plucked from the fruit basket held nearby.

"So..ready to choose your position on this agency?" While continuing to slather the fresh slice of bread with a mixture of melted butter and garlic essence, Iris turned her attention to Sora and queried her.

Sora in return just shrugged in response.

"Oh, that's alright, Viktoriya will be meeting you soon, she'll be teaching you English, Oh! and the codenames of everyone here! Nemo knows the whole place here like the back of his hand so you can trust him with that!" Iris, beaming with delight, passed over the bread she had just prepared, offering it to Sora for her to taste.

Sora accepted the bread and lingered on the freshly prepared snack for a brief moment before plucking off a piece and popping it into her mouth, to her surprise..

It wasn't poisoned.

The bite of bread that she had taken was nothing short of delectable, with its garlicky nature complimenting the savory taste.

Without wasting much time, Sora took a second bite of the bread, finishing it off before its deliciousness fully enveloped her taste buds.

"Hah, you liked it didn't you?" Iris, a satisfied smirk plastered on her face, conveyed a sense of pride in her tone as she reflected on the delicious bread she had just prepared, which Sora found her rather full of herself "Amara, I told you she'd like it!"

"Oh please, she hasn't even tried my Pad Thai yet! Trust me, Sora, you'll love this more than that..bread, its family recipe!" Amara, in a manner reminiscent of competitiveness, countered the statement, indicating that she carries the family's legacy with regard to culinary abilities.

"Ooh! Pad Thai! This is the third time you cooked that this week, I want some!" Nemo skipped off to Amara to try some of her dish, leaving Sora and Iris alone.

"Hey, just do your best for today alright? Don't worry, everyone will take care of you..I know you probably made that decision out of desperation but..your part of us now, goodluck out there" Iris, in a brief motion, offered Sora a comforting smile before setting off on her separate way, offering her some alone time for her to process whatever she had on her mind.

Sora, in hindsight, felt compelled to admit that yes, there was some truth in what Iris alluded to.

At the same time, Sora also understood the gravity of the situation she was in, as Nemo had brought up the importance of survival.

With that said, Sora acknowledged that her compliance might have been a necessary step in order to ensure her safety in the unknown..

But the other side of the story hasn't been spoken of..

"Hey Sora, shall we go?" An abrupt motion of Nemo's arm brought her back to the present. With a quick nod to demonstrate her understanding, she got out of her seat and left the kitchen, following behind Nemo in order to depart from the room.

__________________________________________________

"I'm telling you Barn, if you invest on that now, your firearm stability will increase by 15%!" Viktoriya's vocalizations carried a sense of contradiction as she instinctively gesticulated using her hands in a way that attempted to sway one's opinion.

"And I'm telling you that you should sleep instead of working 24/7" Barnaby, feeling uneasy regarding the woman's well-being, countered Viktoriya's words with his own opinion, physically accentuating his discomfort by placing his arms across his chest in a crossing manner.

"Umm are we interrupting something?" Nemo suddenly showed up in the midst of their discussion, causing them to immediately create physical separation, moving further apart from one another in a manner resembling a respectful retreat.

"Oh hey Nemo, nothing nothing, Vik here just keeps insisting on another idea of her when she should be sleeping!" As Barnaby's elbow jested contact with Viktoriya's shoulder, a joyous smile appeared on his face, projecting his apparent delight.

"But you have to admit I am right" Viktoriya immediately repositioned Barnaby's elbow away from her shoulder, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, yeah, sure..anyways! what brings you two dwarves here?" He seemed dejected for a brief moment, but he quickly recovered from his feeling of disappointment, casting out a shrug as if his reaction was simply a byproduct of being accustomed to her behavior.

After that, Barnaby redirected his gaze to the other two individuals in the area.

" 'Dwarves'? Hey–! Fine, whatever, well 'Sora' here is having her first day now! I'm helping her on deciding what position she'll take here" Nemo began.

"Oh thats right! It completely slipped off my mind, yeah don't worry Sora, I'll also help you out as your mentor!" Viktoriya, after making the motion with her hand to symbolize a "thumbs up," found confirmation from Sora, who responded by acknowledging her statement by nodding her head.

It appears that Sora has found herself in a situation where her constant nodding has become quite tiresome.

"Alright then let's start testing your physical strength, maybe you'll fit as a fighter!" Viktoriya turned her back towards Sora before strolling over to the weapon rack, where she began examining all of its contents in order to determine which one she should permit Sora to attempt to utilize first.

"How about this?" Viktoriya tossed a Spear with a sharp tip to Sora, who swiftly managed to snag it out of the air.

"Nice Catch." Viktoriya chimed.

"Woah! Viktoriya, you can't just throw it to her, what if she didn't catch it, we'll be held responsible!" Nemo experienced a state of alarm as he darted in front of Sora in a quick fashion, concerned at the potential consequences should she fall short of intercepting the Spear that Viktoriya had thrown her way.

"Oh don't be such a worry, I designed these weapons ofcourse I know what will happen, that's why I placed..extra measures"

Upon realizing the danger of having handed Sora the Spear, Viktoriya made the decision to take it from her grasp in a polite manner and then pointed the spear in Barnaby's direction, proceeding to throw it across the space with a swift motion.

As he had anticipated getting stabbed, Barnaby swiftly ducked to avoid the attack.

However, upon striking the wall, instead of being impaled by the spear, the sharp object merely hit the surface before falling completely flat to the ground.

"Safety is my number one priority afterall" Viktoriya made it a point to walk over to the area where the Spear that she previously threw had fallen to the floor and proceeded to fling it in Sora's direction again, where she skillfully managed to secure the Spear in her grasp once more.

"I- How?! Literally how?! You HAVE to tell me, Viktoriya!" Nemo emphasised as he walked over to her direction but only for her to deject him and walk over to Sora.

"Well then, let's start training shall we?" Viktoriya advised.

"Hey, Viktoriya! What was tha—"

"Barnaby, get up from there and help our new comrade here" Viktoriya broke the flow of Nemo's statement by mocking Barnaby's hunched position. Barnaby then swiftly rose to his upright stance when Viktoriya beckoned him to do so. "Sure, whatever you say Vik!"

"Viktori–!"

"I never tell my secret to success, Nemo, you should give up now before you get hopeful" Viktoriya advised, placing her hand on his shoulders followed by an action of patting them before she proceeded to walk away.

To proceed further below the level where they currently were, Viktoriya descended down the steps to the primary arena, placing the mechanical target figure on one end of the arena while Sora took position at the opposite end, assuming a fighting stance, preparing for her imminent trial on her combat abilities.

"You ready, Sora? Remember, just do your best, I've set this on beginner mode" Viktoriya offered Sora some encouraging words before stepping away, positioning herself alongside Barnaby and Nemo.

As the mechanical dummy tilted its head upwards and assumed its own fighting stance, Sora gave a subtle nod in confirmation, and in that manner, the battle commenced between the two opponents.

As soon as Sora initiated her attack on the mechanical dummy, she attempted to plunge the weapon into its stomach, but the figure evaded her thrust, causing her to miss her target entirely.

Determined to penetrate the dummy's body, Sora made another attempt to impale it, but its rapid movements proved too quick for her to intercept, enabling the opponent to strike her in the back forcefully, resulting in Sora's prone position on the ground.

"Ugh.."

"O..kay..maybe speed isn't your thing.." Viktoriya hastened herself over to Sora's side and assisted the young lady in getting back up on her feet.

"Hahah! Well obviously she needs a taste of the ol' firearm! Lessgo Sora, let me show you what a real fighter has!" Moving towards Sora at a quickened pace, Barnaby made haste in offering her a gun, which he had retrieved from his side pocket.

"Wha– Okay, I think its too early for that" Viktoriya fought.

"No way! She may look frail and shit, but she can totally do it, right Sora?!" An enthusiastic Barnaby embraced her with his arm, leaning it across her backside, and in this gesture, placing enough physical pressure to cause Sora to slump a little bit due to the considerable weight that he was applying on her with his limb.

"Okay..I think you shouldn't pressure her, Barnaby, she literally just got here yesterday! I thi–"

In an attempt to cut Nemo off mid-sentence, Sora placed a single index finger over her lips in a shushing motion, silently requesting for him to remain quiet at that moment.

"Aw YEAH! That's the spirit, go for it Sora!" Barnaby cheered.

With some space having been created around Sora, everybody else left the central area of the arena, allowing her to assume ownership of it, which she did, right after Viktoriya readjusted the mechanical dummy to a position where it was standing upright.

Sora extended her arms in preparation for aiming, raising her firearm as she prepared to take aim at the figure that stood barely a foot away from her.

She placed the tip of her forefinger on the trigger, preparing to pull it if necessary, while she closed one eye to focus on the target in front of her.

All she needs to do now was shoot.

*Bang!*

A loud bang erupted, which was subsequently followed by a deafening silence, as it turned out that the projectile did not puncture the mechanical figure in her direction but instead lodged itself into the wall directly behind the dummy.

Sora instantly thrust the firearm into the air before it left her grip and flew in a horizontal direction. It seemed as though she had an intuition that the weapon held some unpleasant memories..

Memories she can't even remember.

"Sora? Sora! Are you okay?! Hey, hey don't worry no more guns no– Barnaby hide the gun! NOW!" Viktoriya bolted towards Sora, her movements imbued with a sense of desperation, a stark contrast to her previous composed demeanour.

"Sora, Oh my god! What happened to you?! I told you firearm sucks!" Nemo turned his head to Barnaby who's busy hiding the guns around them.

"Okay..I get it, no firearm for you.. let's try a simpler weapon..uhh how abou–"

"Knives!"

"Exactly!" Viktoriya gave a high five to Nemo for the idea, following by her helping Sora to compose herself once again.

At that point, a visibly rattled Sora decided to depart from the group, electing to walk over to a nearby seat in a bid to have some quiet time to herself and reflect on the experience she had just undergone.

She sat upon the bench and stared into nothingness, lost in her thoughts.

While Viktoriya was scolding Barnaby's carelessness, Nemo made the conscientious decision to approach Sora, whose emotions at that point were still in turmoil, in an effort to console the troubled girl with some words.

"Hey..uhh Sora? You alright?"

Sora just turns her head at him with a look that screams 'Do I look like I'm alright?!'.

"Right..you aren't, sorry." Nemo decided to have a seat next to Sora, but he refrained from making contact with her by maintaining a small distance.

In this manner, he remained still by her side for some duration in silence, not speaking a word.

"Hey..I'm sorry, in behalf of them, we're really not used to having a person like you- not that weird your anything! It's just..your someone new for experience.." Nemo rubbed hid nape as he avoided eye contact with Sora, who's in contrast looking directly at him.

"O-..kay, I see you were quite taken back there..you must be triggered huh? Okay how about this, no firearm, no guns, no nothing..let's just try something new..?" Nemo suggested as he clasped his hands in a manner.

Although Nemo's method of consolation did not necessarily have the desired impact, Sora still expressed gratitude for his efforts, acknowledging that he was attempting to assist her to the best of his abilities.

Despite this, the young lady chose to not let the issue consume her time and attention any longer, electing instead to rise to her feet and move on from the spot with a small sign of acknowledgement.

Sora made her way back to Viktoriya's vicinity and positioned herself directly in front "Oh hey Sora..you alright now? Don't worry, I already scolded Barn here" Viktoriya asked.

As Sora gave her reassurance that she is already fine, Viktoriya sighed in relief "Alright then..okay one last trial then we'll move on alright?" Viktoriya raised her right hand above her head and snapped her fingers, resulting in Barnaby promptly throwing a knife towards her.

She then proceeded to transfer the weapon into Sora's hand, presumably for her to utilize.

"Alright, I've already set the dummy to training mode, hey..don't push yourself too hard okay? Goodluck.." Viktoriya lightly tapped Sora's back, a gesture that suggested approval while simultaneously establishing a sense of camaraderie, then proceeded to exit the fighting arena, signifying the start of the upcoming fight.

Sora took on a firm stance as the trial started and brandished her knife, quickly making her way towards the dummy.

Raising her right arm high with the knife in hand, she leapt into the air and descended, pushing her knife in a slightly lowered position.

Upon making impact with the mechanical figure, she managed to sink the blade deep into the dummy, forcing it to press against the ground.

Sora, despite having a slender physique, attempted to execute her attack in a timely and efficient manner.

However, as she lunged towards the mechanical figure with her knife, the dummy swiftly counterattacked by shoving her away with a considerable degree of strength.

Despite suffering from a few butterflies in her stomach, Sora tightened her grip on her blade, once again lowering it slightly as she prepared for her next move.

Sora hurriedly stood up after being knocked down, moving in swiftly with her knife at the ready.

By employing unexpected and rapid movements, she was successfully able to disorient the dummy, making the latter fumble slightly.

Capitalizing on this newfound advantage, Sora proceeded to plunge the pointed end of the blade into the mechanical figure but to her dismay, her hands inexplicably loosened, and the knife slipped from her grasp, causing the dummy to seize the opportunity to swiftly push her away, causing her to lose balance and land back on the ground.

"Kore wa kuso bakada.." Murmured Sora.

"Okay! I think we had enough!" Announced Nemo as he hurriedly ran over to Sora, supporting her back as she gets up, Viktoriya following up tp him and supporting the other

Nemo announced his presence by rushing over to Sora in order to help her up, wrapping his arm around her and providing support as she successfully made her way back onto her feet.

Viktoriya also came over to Sora's side, assisting her right arm while the other male held her left, creating a unified front in an effort to aid the young lady in regaining her equilibrium.

"I agree..Alright, Barnaby please take it from here, we'll be heading out" Viktoriya turned to him as he just saluted and happily replied with "Yes Ma'am!"

With Sora supported on both sides by Nemo and Viktoriya, the trio made their way out of the arena, leaving Barnaby to loiter alone in the central portion of the fighting ground.

__________________________________________________

"Okay..let's just sit you right..there" Nemo placed her gently on the side of the hospital bed with the help of Viktoriya although it was mostly because of Viktoriya's strength.

Viktoriya looked at her, "Alright, I'll get you some bandages, you wait right here.." She went on the back, leaving Sora alon with Nemo, who immediately sat beside her.

"Okay..maybe physical training isn't your time to try yet.." Nemo conceded.

"Anata wa omou?" Sora firmly muttered.

Nemo looked away, "Okay, look I'm sorry I immediately put you up with this! I should've let you learn the basics first! I'm really sorry.." His voice faded, finally looking back at Sora again.

Sora merely took in what he had to say, but instead of acknowledging his apology or accepting his regret, she let out a weary sigh.

She made it abundantly clear that she doesn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with other people's apologies, especially while she is preoccupied with the concern that Nemo looks like a goldfish that was about to be eaten.

"Daijōbu, shinpaishinaidekudasai" Sora murmured.

Undeterred by the fact that there was a high chance that her efforts would fall on deaf ears, Sora made a valiant and genuine attempt to comfort Nemo even though there was a great chance that he was incapable of understanding her attempt at consolation.

"Hai, anata wa chotto saiakudesu" Sora blatantly told him even after she tried to comfort him before.

"What did you say?" Nemo said.

Okay, that definitely broke the atmosphere.

Sora just groaned and rolled her eyes, looking away from him.

"Hey! Wait I wanna know what you sai–!"

"Okay Sora, I'm back, now let's see those injuries of yours!"

Viktoriya made her return to Sora, holding a first aid kit firmly within her hand, and after allowing Nemo to exit the clinic, bandaged the young woman on specific body parts, employing a considerable degree of meticulousness to execute the task with accuracy and efficiency.

__________________________________________________

"Okayyy, Let's try a less physical activity, shall we?" The group comprising of Sora, Nemo, and Viktoriya, took up their positions on one side of the entrance, with Viktoriya firmly gripping the door handle.

Sora's left arm, which was covered in bandages, was essentially immobile, making it an exceedingly difficult task for her to attempt to exert any degree of movement while engaging the muscles in said hand and arm.

Nemo, being the ever-watchful guide he was, was right beside Sora, carefully monitoring her arm and taking necessary steps to ensure that she didn't end up injuring it further.

Viktoriya swiftly opened the door, immediately permitting Sora, Nemo and herself to gain entry into the dimly illuminated room, an environment primarily illuminated by the collection of computer monitors strewn throughout the area.

In addition to the individual who was occupied in his own task on one of the machines, there also seemed to be a number of coffee cups scattered about his surroundings, emanating a peculiar scent, with an extra cup of the same beverage being held in his hand.

And that individual is Aiden.

"Okay Aiden, times up, I'm the only one allowed here to overwork" Viktoriya made her way towards the individual who was in the midst of his work, crossing her arms while maintaining eye contact with him.

Aiden appeared to give off an expression that was rather stoic and emotionless, merely directing his gaze back towards her in response.

"Oh please, your not my mom, Halte dich aus meinem verdammten Geschäft raus.." Aiden said, with a rather sore tone in his voice.

"Okay! Just because I don't know German and you do doesn't mean you can talk shit at me like that!" Viktoriya mockingly said as she took away the cup of coffee in Aiden's hands "And..what is this?! I-..wha- Can't you drink something that's not just coffee mixed with rum and sugar?"

Aiden stood up and immediately took back the cup away from her hands, "It's called Pharisāer, thank you very much, and what are you doing here anyway?" He asked, taking another sip to finish off his drink.

"Oh right, forgot about that, well we're here to help Sora get a position in the agency" The moment Viktoriya mentioned her, Aiden found himself unexpectedly choking on his cup of hot coffee, unable to take a single sip without coughing uncontrollably.

In a hurry to clear the obstruction from his throat and regain normalcy, he hastily placed the cup on the nearby table before recovering from the sudden coughing fit he had suffered.

"Wait, as in THE Sora, Iris told us about??"

Upon being greeted by Aiden, who merely mentioned her name, Sora took this as a cue to protrude her head out from the area behind Viktoriya, who was standing in front of Aiden at the time.

Realizing that Aiden was now aware of her being present, she moved to his side, placing herself beside Viktoriya rather than remaining in her initial location.

"Oh! Oh, hey, Ms. Hoshi..Sora, right yeah, Hello, I didn't know you were there" Aiden's demeanor appeared to undergo a subtle shift, transitioning into a friendly and inviting one.

With a warm expression, he 'gently' pushed Viktoriya to the side in order to obtain a clearer viewpoint of Sora.

"Kakogo Chert–"

"Hey Aiden! Guess you didn't see me, take care of Sora for awhile, I'll be booting up my computer" Nemo also appeared behind Viktoriya, interrupting her, as he went over behind one of the computers.

"Anyways, what..happened to your arm over there?" Aiden's facial expression remained friendly and welcoming, however, a slight tone of concern could be detected underlying his voice when he asked Sora the question.

From Sora's perspective, it was starting to seem like this guy was becoming progressively weirder with each passing moment.

He was asking an overwhelming amount of questions in a rather quick succession which was somewhat strange and slightly concerning to her.

Although she maintained an outwardly composed temperament, internally, she couldn't shake off the strange vibe that she was getting from him.

Responding to his question, Sora just shrugged, not wanting him in the business.

And this just made Aiden more curious.

"Wait, hold on, is everything okay? Did these two got you in a fight?" Aiden turned towards their companions and, with a finger raised in their direction, made a disparaging remark about their perceived inability to provide adequate care for Sora.

This statement appeared to offend both Viktoriya and Nemo as they glanced over in a combination of surprise and irritability.

"Hey! What do you mean we're the ones who got her in a fight?!" Nemo broke away from his work at the computer and turned towards Aiden with a noticeably displeased demeanour.

"Yeah okay, well your wrong, your judgement is wrong, we were just trying to HELP Sora here find her station and its not like we forced her or anything, and who are you to say that we're irresponsible? Mr. passed-his-report-in-11:59." Viktoriya's retort, seemingly coming out of left field, left Aiden momentarily stunned, unsure of how to retort to the contradiction she presented.

"Okay fine, whatever Ms. debate-every-conversation-she-has, but what did happen to her?" As Aiden spoke with Viktoriya, he cast a brief glance at Sora, who seemed to be losing focus and spacing out.

"We trained her with my, self invented, premium, training dummy ofcourse" With her chin held high and her hands on her chest put flat, Viktoriya proclaimed proudly which was just met with Aiden rolling his eyes at her statement.

With a scrunched nose and an annoyed tone, Aiden gestured towards Sora.

"Look at her," he muttered, "She's totally zoned out, not even paying attention to me- to us!" He raised his voice a bit, sounding frustrated.

"We can't just let her wander around like that!" He gestured in her direction as if to imply she might get hurt if left on her own.

Meanwhile in Sora's wonderland of thoughts, 'I wonder what we'll have for lunch, maybe I can try the Pad Thai, Amara was talking about earlier..'

Viktoriya snickered, "Oh please, we haven't even fleshed out her abilities yet".

"And done, rebooting! Sora, come here!" In a swift motion, Nemo gestured for Sora to come over to him, snapping her out of her thoughts which she did so.

While Viktoriya and Aiden continued their heated discussion, Nemo took it upon himself to show Sora the ropes of coding to its basics.

"Okay, right here I already set up the program your gonna be working with, we'll start with Variables! Them obviously you kearn the basics, you can have Aiden teach for you or Viktoriya, which honestly is a better option" Nemo slightly lowered his voice and gave a light chuckle, as if he found something amusing about what he had just said.

Once Aiden and Viktoriya finished their bickering, they shifted their attention to monitoring Nemo's guidance to Sora on coding.

The three of them worked together, with Nemo serving as the primary teacher, weirdly enough.

After a few hours, Sora began to visibly show signs of tiredness, indicating that she was running low on energy for social interaction.

"We'll just have to teach you Debugging and we're done here!" Nemo stated as the door opened, revealing Azzurra on the other side "Oh hey, Aiden, Viktoriya and Nemo, Iris called for you three at her office" She said as she exchanged waving to Viktoriya.

"Tell her we're coming" Viktoriya informed, she then turned to Sora "Hey, you'll be okay here right? We'll be back soon, I promise" She swore, as she gestured for the other two to follow her outside, leaving Sora alone.

Sora didn't want to believe what was happening was real, but earlier that morning, she was forced to accept the truth.

She was feeling exhausted and bored, and as she checked the time.

It was currently 3:58 PM.

She was quite surprised she lasted for so long, but now when she's reminded by it, she haven't eaten anything since the Garlicky Bread from Iris.

"Jikai wa Amara no pattai o tabete mitai to omoimas–"

*Ding!*

A pop up notification interrupted her.

Sora shifted her gaze to the computer monitor and found that the message notification was indeed an email.

Upon closer inspection, Sora discovered that the email was from a mysterious sender named "AofD."

The subject line of the email was blank, but when she opened it, she found nothing but an image of the Joker card, accompanied by the sound of a deep, booming chuckle that seemed to echo through her mind.

The image and sound conveyed the feeling that the Joker was laughing at her, she was played.

Suddenly, the sounds of sirens filled the air, echoing throughout the space and making it clear that this emergency was happening outside of just the room.

At the same time, the room began flashing red, making it clear that whatever was happening was a serious situation.

Sora instinctively stood up, covering her ears to block out the noise, and then looked around at the other computers in the room.

To her horror, she saw that they were all displaying the same image of the Joker card that she had received in the email.

As the chaos unfolded around her, Sora felt a sense of confusion and helplessness wash over her.

All she knew was that she was in serious trouble, and she had no idea how to get herself out of it.

The fear and uncertainty that washed over her made her feel like she was trapped in a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from.

"Sora! What did you do?!" Viktoriya burst into the room, pushing the door open forcibly.

Behind her, Aiden and Nemo were hot on her heels, panting from the run.

Only to find Sora who had sheer terror and distress in her eyes.

__________________________________________________

"I understand your upset but please hear me out..!"

As the crisis began to calm down and the initial danger was subsided, Iris could be seen pacing around the room, speaking to someone on the phone, her tone becoming more and more distraught as the conversation progressed.

"I mean ofcourse..Hah! But please- I've been doing my job properly and i can fix this, please!" Iris chuckled nervously.

Sora sat huddled in the corner of the room, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and anxiety.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was in deep trouble.

Nemo sat beside her, keeping her company and trying to provide some soothing presence.

Viktoriya was standing nearby, looking concerned for Iris, who was still talking on the phone and seemed to be in a state of distress.

Aiden was assigned outside to take care of the other's questions.

"Hey..is Iris gonna be okay?" Questioned Nemo.

Viktoriya just looked at him, she's as clueless as he is "I..honestly don't know"

"Your not listening to me! This isn't fair..! Hello..? Shit.." As Iris dropped her phone, gravity took over, with the device clattering to the ground.

Viktoriya noticed Iris's slip and immediately rushed to her side, extending her arms to catch her.

She held Iris in a soft embrace, providing a warm and comforting presence as Iris tried to regain her composure.

"Is something gonna happen?" Nemo chimed in.

Iris groaned, "..The President's Secretary will visit tomorrow.."

Nemo's eyes grow wide, and he gasps, as if in disbelief.

However, upon further consideration and realization, he decides not to express his confusion and returns to his previous state, coming up to the conclusion he doesn't know what she's talking about.

"Wait, is that bad?"

"Yes it is bad, ugh! Last time visited, we had to tent outside because a single piece of paper was on the floor!" Iris exclaimed, getting out from Viktoriya's grasp.

Iris lets out a sound of frustration, her body slumping forward.

Nemo notices and immediately gestures towards her with concern as he quickly stands up to offer his assistance.

Viktoriya approaches Sora.

"Go back to your room for now." Her response was icy, and her expression devoid of emotion however, there was a brief pause.

This was the first time Sora had encountered someone like this ever since she woke up, and it sent horror down her spine.

Despite this, her obedience took over, and she reluctantly followed, placing her hand onto her other arm as she departed the room.

____________________________________________

As Sora walked down the hallway, she moved swiftly and with purpose away from her starting point.

She paced with a sense of urgency, and didn't bother to look left or right, her attention solely focused on reaching her destination.

And then stopping.

Sora felt the tears begin to build up in her eyes.

Despite her attempt to stop them from falling, she felt a lump forming in her throat.

She felt upset with the way Viktoriya had spoken to her, the suddenness of it all, and the way it wasn't what she was expecting.

She knew she made a mistake, but why was she getting so upset about someone she barely even knew?

Sora quickly snapped herself out of her thoughts, slapping herself in the face to clear her head.

She shook off the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her and took a deep breath.

She reminded herself that she needed to be strong and protect her emotions, especially in the face of a potential visit from the government.

She steadied her nerves, preparing herself for whatever might come her way.

[midnights-call]

Fated WIP Intro

Genre & POV

High Fantasy, First Person Single

Content Warnings

Graphic violence, gore, severe injury, death/dead bodies, toxic relationships, manipulation, gaslighting, mental/emotional abuse, (fantasy) racism, claustrophobia, bad religion

Synopsis

Childhood friends Wren and Wesley have had an on-again off-again physical relationship for years as the two have continued on their opposite paths through life. While Wesley gains acclaim as one of the greatest warriors of his time and is the prime pick to wield the holy blade of Soluminux, while Wren has made a name in petty crime circles as a con-artist and thief. But after a night spent together and a fight that causes Wren to be at the wrong place at the right time, the holy blade chooses them as its wielder, thrusting them into the spotlight. Tasked with saving the world from a threat only describe in vague prophetic form, Wren has to catch up to the group of elite warriors they're suddenly apart of, once again entangled in Wesley's life. As the pair struggles with themselves and their strained relationship, they race against the clock to figure out what the prophecy means, how to stop it, and why Wren keeps having increasingly horrific dreams.

More info below the cut

Characters

#wren 23; nonbinary, they/them; pansexual; moonkin; chosen one; daggers. A selfish person through and through, Wren uses charm, wit, and deception to get their way. After being told for their entire life that they're scum and will never amount to anything, they decided to fulfill the role others forced them into. Deep down, however, is a deeply hurt person desperate for attention, even if it's not the right sort.

#wesley clark 24; trans man, he/him; bisexual; sunkin/moonkin; second in command; sword and shield. Struggling with himself and his place in the world, Wesley has always found it easy to follow others. Despite his physical prowess, Wesley is a person who cannot stand up for himself or how to be his own person. Being himself had only ever gotten him hurt, so he gave up himself to become what other people wanted.

#tild gerwig 68; trans woman, she/her; heterosexual; moonkin; commander; mace. Her wisdom was hard-earned but she gives it away easily, wanting to foster the next generation of elites to leave behind the most capable fighters possible to protect the people. With a strong sense of justice and tenacity that's gotten her this far, she fully intends to make sure that the prophetic threat meets a grisly end.

#sakina faraj 24; cis woman, she/her; lesbian; sunkin; finisher; battleaxe. A bubbly, ferociously optimistic person, Sakina will always be the first to introduce herself to someone new. She's compassionate and positive because she's fully aware of how bad the world can be, and knows the best way to fight back is by spreading good. But don't mistake her kindness and warmth for weakness; in the heat of battle, there's no one else you'd want at your side.

#yeong-ja kil 23; cis woman, she/her; butch; sunkin; frontliner; dual wielder. A strong person both in body and mind, her spirit is unbreakable. She's had to fight for every opportunity in her life and she refuses to squander a single one. It's with a rare and surprising grace that she helps others in the heat of battle, putting aside her personal qualms in order to do the just and noble thing. Don't tell anyone, though; she has a reputation to keep.

#klaus danner 22; cis man, he/him; demisexual; sunkin; scout; versatile. With a past shrouded in death that he hardly talks about- that is, on the rare occasion he actually speaks -he's a man who's seen far too much far too young. Despite the fact that he always appears to be deeply within himself, his sharp eyes and ears rarely miss a thing. Watch what you say around him, he'll always remember it.

#soheil bashir 25; cis man, he/him; gay; sunkin; backliner; bow & arrows. Reserved, cautious, and shy, Soheil is an unlikely addition to the elite squad. But his measured approach to situations and his knack for staying level-headed even in the most dire of situations, he brings a needed balance to the group. With a strong desire to do good, tempered by his mild attitude, he strives to be more like his friends open himself up to allowing a risk or two into his life.

Ships

#wrestling is Wren/Wesley. While being a fun combination of their names, it's representative of the tumultuous nature of their relationship. There is always some sort of conflict, each of them struggling for control of one another and the world around them. But it takes two to tango, neither one blameless in how their relationship has turned out. Their fight is endless, but deep down, they never want it to stop.

#swordsbians is Sakina/Yeong-ja. A classic case of sunshine and grump, but now they have weapons and they WILL use them.

#hawkeye is Soheil/Klaus. An unsual pairing with a shared love of nature and skills in staying hidden in plain sight. Oh, and sharpshooting.

Other Links

Pinterest

Wren Playlist

Wrestling Playlist

Taglist

@florraisons​ @phantomnations

[fission-mailure]

Increasingly getting the feeling that we’re not going to see Alyx (or, well, we’ll see her in a flashback episode, but not in the main, present-day story) in this volume. There’s a big emphasis on following her story, and all her appearances in the opening feel -- distant, somehow. The team following her shadow. Ruby seeing her at the end of a bridge only to see it’s really herself. A painting of her and a mysterious boy, but not the two of them in person. The only concrete appearance in the op we get of her is her waking up as Crescent Moon washes ashore. So increasingly it feels like Alyx is serving a metaphorical role more than a literal one, right? To Ruby, she represents the Path That Must Be Followed (and by extension, the abdication of responsibility, that notion of ‘we need to stop pretending we know what to do,’). To Blake, she clearly represents the Danger Of Becoming The Moral Of A Story, the possibility of doing things wrong and bringing trouble down on yourself. We’re already starting to see that to Weiss, she represents a simplistic story that doesn’t match up to reality.

My strong suspicion right now is that Alyx really did escape the Ever After, and we won’t see her in the present day -- but we will get a flashback episode that shows some terrible or enlightening truth about how she escaped, and which recontextualises the way she currently serves as a symbol to the party. I also think that even if she’s not in this volume, we ... may well end up seeing her in future volumes. If she got back to Remnant, and if there’s time shenanigans (as I suspect there probably will be), it’s entirely possible that she’s still alive and present in current times. And I remain excruciatingly aware that there are likely multiple lieutenants of Salem we haven’t seen yet. 

[mariacallous]

When a male client grabbed 32-year-old Hafsa Ahmad from behind inside a crowded courtroom in the eastern Pakistani city of Lahore, she knew no colleague would stand up for her despite witnessing the assault. Why would the law firm she works for lose a high fee-paying client just to protect her, she thought to herself. She did not say a word and forgot the incident as if it had never happened.

Ahmad’s experience is not a one-off; 35-year-old Nida Usman Chaudhary, an award-winning lawyer and researcher, was catcalled by a male lawyer right outside the Lahore High Court, just when she was exiting the building after hosting a seminar to raise awareness about sexual harassment at the workplace. “It is ironic that this happened moments after I had finished speaking to a room full of lawyers about ways to curb harassment in the courts,” she told Foreign Policy.

In Pakistan, women lawyers who pursue litigation have to develop a thick skin to survive in the profession. Sexual harassment, condescending attitudes of male colleagues—and even some judges—and an overall culture of misogyny discourages them from practicing law and forces some of them to switch career paths.

Pakistan’s Protection Against Harassment of Women at Workplace Act (enacted in 2010) makes it mandatory for government and private institutions to form inquiry committees to hear complaints of harassment, yet this law remains unimplemented in courts and law firms. Harassment, gender discrimination, and lack of internal recourse not only rob women lawyers of opportunities for networking and growth, but also has a lasting effect on Pakistani society.

Given the rampant culture of victim-blaming when it comes to cases of gender-based violence in Pakistan, the absence of a critical mass of women lawyers means victims of these crimes who approach the courts are met with hostility and are often forced to withdraw their complaints after reaching a so-called compromise with the accused.

Complainants who report gender-based violence often face character assassination during cross-examination, with opposing parties trying to question their credibility and blaming them for their own ordeal. It is easier to navigate this misogynistic environment with a woman lawyer on your side. However, without this support, female complainants are usually intimidated into silence. The gender imbalance in the legal profession therefore affects the criminal justice system’s ability to dispense justice.

Earlier this year, the Lahore High Court Bar Association elected its first woman secretary, Sabahat Rizvi, in a victory that women rights groups celebrated as historic. While Rizvi’s win was indeed a breath of fresh air, it is an exception to the norm. The Pakistan Bar Council, the highest elected body of lawyers in the country, hasn’t had a single female member since its formation by the Parliament in 1973. The absence of women in this body, according to Chaudhary, is linked to the way the electoral process works—which is structurally designed to keep men in power.

Members of the Pakistan Bar Council are elected directly by provincial bar councils. Since provincial bar councils have a disturbingly low number of women members to begin with, it’s mostly men picking the Pakistan Bar Council. A study conducted by the Women in Law Initiative found that in recent years, following a 2018 amendment to the law, the eligibility requirements to run in local bar council elections have become increasingly stringent and have resulted in the “gatekeeping” of corridors of power from women and young lawyers.

Only 12 percent of the lawyers in Pakistan who are registered as advocates are women, while in Punjab—the country’s biggest province by population—the percentage of women lawyers is 11 percent. The Punjab Bar Council has just one female member, Rushda Lodhi, who was a runner-up in the council’s last election in 2020. Lodhi was given the seat after a top-ranking male official was disqualified for having a fake law degree.

The late Asma Jilani Jahangir—Pakistan’s most well-known human rights defender and lawyer—managed to make her mark not just in Pakistan but around the world. Jahangir, who tirelessly defended Pakistan’s most marginalized groups, was the recipient of many human rights awards, and was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 2005. With her sudden passing in 2016, young women lawyers she had mentored felt they had been orphaned. Jahangir’s younger sister, Hina Jilani, also a lawyer, is now carrying forward her legacy.

But what is common among the Jilani sisters, as well as other strong women lawyers like them, is the support from their families alongside their own perseverance. Most women in Pakistan, especially in conservative parts of the country such as in the provinces of Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, are not as fortunate.

The 2022 Global Gender Gap Index Report, released by the World Economic Forum, ranked Pakistan 145 out of 156 countries surveyed—beneath Saudi Arabia and Iran— when it came to economic participation and opportunity. The United Nations Women Pakistan notes that women “restricted from taking up positions in the political/public sphere due to systemic challenges arising from patriarchal notions.”

In Pakistan’s patriarchal society, most women have to seek their fathers’ or brothers’ permission to work. Even when conservative families allow their daughters to work, they are asked to stick to so-called gender-suited professions, such as teaching. Since being a lawyer means interacting with men from different walks of life and regularly visiting courts and police stations, women who want to pursue litigation face opposition from their families.

Even if they manage to begin their practice without their family’s support, they have no one to turn to if they face harassment or discrimination in the workplace. Often their only two options are to either quit, or continue struggling silently in a thankless profession where the odds are heavily stacked against them. Most women choose the former.

Maryam Khan, 40, a Lahore-based lawyer who began practicing in 2016, told Foreign Policy she has to “overprepare” her arguments because she knows judges would grill her more than her male colleagues. She remembers representing a leading oil company in a high court where the judge kept asking her if she was the lead counsel in the case. “My name was on the case file. He knew I was the counsel, but he probably did not want to believe that a woman can handle an important case like that,” Khan said.

Several other women lawyers FP spoke to admitted that they experienced a similar condescending tone and line of questioning from judges, who often assume that female lawyers appearing before them are either secretaries of a senior lawyer or clerical aides.

Another form of misogyny that women lawyers face is the assumption that when they win a case, it is because the judge unduly favored them due to their gender, and not because their arguments were convincing. Moreover, women who are well-dressed are not taken seriously and accused of playing the so-called woman card to get a favorable ruling. Young women lawyers also patronizingly get addressed as beta (child) by male counterparts who want to underscore their seniority.

Barrister Fatima Shaheen, 36, now a TV anchor, pursued litigation for six years in Lahore before she realized she could no longer put up with the misogynistic behavior. She recalls an opposing lawyer once jokingly telling her, “If you dress like this, the judge will keep staring at you instead of issuing the order.” These hostilities and an unwelcoming environment force most women to quit practicing, which is why bar lounges, associations, and councils across the country remain a boys’ club.

The rise of religious extremism in Pakistan has had a parallel effect on the legal fraternity and tanked the progress toward fair representation of women lawyers in the field. Since its rise to prominence in 2017, the Sunni extremist group Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) has been able to galvanize significant support among the working and middle classes in the country, and especially in the Punjab province. With the TLP’s rise, lawyers with extremist inclinations became more vocal.

In 2016, a 700-member lawyer alliance was formed to voluntarily prosecute individuals accused of blasphemy. The Khatm-e-Nabuwwat (Finality of Prophethood) Lawyers Forum was created in the lead-up to the TLP’s formation, when extremist clerics were holding protests against the execution of Mumtaz Qadri, the self-confessed murderer of former Punjab Gov. Salmaan Taseer. (Qadri killed the governor in 2011 due to his support to a blasphemy-accused Christian woman.)

Aside from the Khatm-e-Nabuwwat Lawyers Forum, there are other smaller groups of lawyers who describe themselves as the “guardian of the Prophet Muhammad’s honor” and share the TLP’s ideology.

In June last year, the Lahore Bar Association invited TLP chief Saad Rizvi, who has been arrested a number of times for violent protests by his group, to address a session about Islamophobia. Last month, two of the most prominent bar associations of the country wrote separate letters echoing TLP’s demands, and advised the police to not let Pakistan’s Ahmadi community, an already persecuted religious minority, observe the Islamic festival of Eid al-Adha.

The increased influence of extremist factions, and the absence of proper protection mechanisms for judges and witnesses, mean that lawyers and judges have to tread carefully—further shrinking the space for women lawyers to form networks and effect change in the legal profession.

Article 25 of Pakistan’s Constitution says that there should be no discrimination on the basis of sex, yet the profession that is supposed to be the custodian of this law fails to curb gender-based discrimination within its own ranks. That there are no steps by representative bodies such as the Pakistan Bar Council to address this severe gender imbalance means that the problem is yet to be acknowledged, let alone resolved.

The situation is not too different in other parts of South Asia. According to recent data released by India’s Ministry of Law and Justice, only 15.3 percent of the country’s lawyers are women. In Bangladesh, the figure is 10 percent. Across the subcontinent, the patriarchal mindset that considers certain professions “unsuitable” for women ends up hindering their access to opportunities.

Women have been at the forefront of the struggle against military dictatorships and the restoration of democracy in Pakistan—and without their active participation in the public and private spheres, the country’s democracy will remain weak.

[kriskubed]

In which Blaine FINALLY comes out to Kurt. I guess in verse their sexuality hasn't even come up before now, but I always knew there needed to be a coming out scene to get to the other scenes that live in my head. And it took me ages to write one that I didn't hate. ~

Blaine had been spending a lot more time with Sam at school now that Kurt was gone. They didn’t have many classes together, but their friendship had blossomed in comic book club once they discovered their mutual love of superheroes, Star Wars, and all things Tolkien. Thankfully they had the same lunch period, so Blaine had a friend to distract him when he was missing Kurt the most. 

“Check out that new girl over there,” Sam said one day, tossing his head in the direction of a nearby table. “She's hot.”

Blaine looked and considered. She was pretty, by anyone’s standards, but hot? 

“I guess,” he replied, figuring agreeing was the easiest path here.

“You guess?! Dude, look at her!” 

Blaine had looked. And he knew kids their age were starting to date, and that he was supposed to start seeing girls in “that” way, but he just didn't. 

“She's pretty, Sam,” he said. 

“If I knew her at all, I'd totally ask her to the homecoming dance. But it’s like, kind of creepy to just go up and ask out someone you don’t even know, right?”

“Right. But I know her. She’s in my English class. She seems pretty cool. I can introduce you later if you want.”

“Really? Thanks, man. So, what about you?” Sam continued around bites of burger as he glanced around the room. “You gonna ask anyone this year? Tina maybe?”

“Tina's a great friend, but that's all,” Blaine said. He'd honestly never thought of her as anything more. “I’ll probably just go with friends, like always. There really isn't anyone I like, like that.” It was the truth, but he felt his heart speed up as he said it, knowing Sam assumed he meant a girl when really Blaine was becoming increasingly aware that the reason for his lack of interest in girls might be something other than just being a “late bloomer,” as his grandma would say. For now he just wanted to change the subject.

“Why don’t we go say hi right now?” Blaine suggested, noticing that Sam’s tray was empty. 

“Yeah?”

“Sure, come on.” They gathered the remnants of their lunches and tossed them in the trash on the way over to the new girl’s table.

~

He’d come to the realization gradually, and then all at once. I’m gay. He tumbled the words over and over in his head, reliving the little moments that brought him from the first inkling that he might be to knowing without a doubt that it was true. Now the words ached to be said aloud. 

He snuggled in his sleeping bag on the floor beside Kurt’s bed, trying to gather the courage to tell him. Somehow the difficult things had always been easier to say under cover of darkness. They’d spent years of sleepovers whispering secrets to each other in the night.

“Are you still awake?” Kurt asked before Blaine had worked up the nerve to speak.

“Yeah,” Blaine replied.

“McKinley… it’s not…” Kurt began. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want my dad to worry. I thought it might get better, but… The jocks…”

“The jocks what, Kurt?” Blaine asked with concern when Kurt trailed off.

“They say I’m gay,” Kurt forced out quietly.

“You know who you are,” Blaine said. He didn’t know if it was true, and he didn’t want to force Kurt into answering the question he wanted to ask. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

Kurt was quiet, except for a little non-committal hum. Eventually, he continued. “It’s not just what they say. A few of them, they shove me.”

“Kurt!” Blaine gasped out, sitting up to look at him. “You have to tell someone. You can’t just let them-”

Kurt cut him off. “I can’t. It would only be worse.”

“But Kurt-”

“No. I’m done talking about it.” 

Blaine knew that tone, and he knew there was no use trying to discuss it further. He’d let it go for now, but he knew this was serious and he wasn’t about to just stand by and let his best friend get bullied.

He dropped back down onto his pillow and waited a while to see if Kurt would say anything more, but he’d clearly meant it when he said he was done talking about it. Eventually, Blaine broke the silence. 

“Hey Kurt… there’s something I want to tell you.” He wasn’t sure if it was still the right time after what Kurt had just revealed to him, but he needed to get the words out of his head. And well, they were on the subject. He took a deep calming breath, closed his eyes, and decided to stop second guessing himself and just go for it. 

“I am... Gay, I mean. You don’t have to say anything. I just… needed to say it. To someone.”

Kurt rolled onto his side to peer over the edge of the bed. “You know it doesn’t matter to me what you are,” he said. “You’re still my best friend.”

“I know,” Blaine said back. He did know, but he was still relieved. 

Kurt rolled back onto his pillow. 

“I haven’t told anyone else yet.”

“Okay. Are you going to?”

“I don’t know. I mean, eventually, obviously. But right now? Maybe not. I really needed someone else to know though.”

“Well, I’m honored you picked me.”

“Who else would I pick? You’re my best friend.”

“Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“I just needed someone to know too. But I’m not ready to tell anyone else yet. Please don’t…” Kurt's voice was small and he sounded scared.

Blaine wasn’t happy about it, but he understood. He wouldn't betray Kurt's trust. “Okay, Kurt. But just for now. If they don’t stop, someone has to say something.”

“Okay.”

“Okay…”