#she did end up maturing and seeing the error of her ways. we were fine for the last two years of school

[thestarmaker]

Sometimes I think about how my high school of ~100 kids per grade had such a different vibe than a lot of bigger ones. Yeah there was a lot of loyal "friend" groups and infighting and kicking people out drama, and don't get me started on the fighting-over-boys nastiness that I've witnessed, but people were generally pretty civil to each other otherwise. There wasn't that much bullying aside from a few cases of One Person Hates You because everyone's family knew each other on at least a surface level and we knew word would get around to Everyone. It was awfully funny tho, even me and the girl who Hated Me for like 3 years in middle school/early high school openly talked abt being civil just to not be miserable all the time at school

[deepspacedukat]

From Never To Always

Welcome to the second installment of the Dark!Tales Halloween Series in collaboration with @bigblissandlove1!

This nearly 10k word oneshot is centered around a dark version of my Vulcan OC, Kollos. It's set in the Mirror Universe (but this isn't necessarily how I see the actual Mirror!Kollos behaving - it's complicated), so the usual warnings for mirror universe bigotry and violence apply. The Mirror Universe is a warning in itself, so do be aware and keep that in mind as the story progresses. This version of Kollos has had it rough. He's angry, he has killed, and he will do so again, but he's sexy, so it's fine...because fiction. 🤷‍♀️ Anyway, enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here. Find the rest of the Halloween Dark!Tales Halloween Series on AO3 here.

~*~

Dark!Kollos (OC) x Reader

[A/N: This is smut adjacent and includes mature themes, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Implied interspecies sex, implied Human/Vulcan sex, sexual fantasizing, brief masturbation, hungry gazes, canon-typical violence, enemies to lovers, pining, mutual pining (even if Kollos doesn't realize it in any universe), angst, threats, Kollos denying his own feelings, mild bigotry, the mirror universe and all its horrors, agony booth is mentioned but not used, Kollos is a vengeful freedom fighter in this AU so take that how you will, mentions of blood, injuries, decapitation, all smut/implied smut is consensual.

~*~

Staring at the viewscreen of their stolen Terran warship, Kollos polished the blade end of his lirpa. The arced metal had several scratches and marks down its length, but it had served him faithfully for many decades. He had longed to go down to the surface of this remote planet for today's attack, but he owed his second in command a turn on a landing team.

Besides, there would be nobody left to fight. Their orbital bombardment would've left little more than ashes and ruins in their wake. Muroc enjoyed looting more than he did hand-to-hand combat, anyway, so the choice to send him was a logical one. They'd expended a small number of their stolen ship's torpedoes in today's impressive display of efficient annihilation. No doubt, this would send yet another message to the Terran Empire that Vulcans could and would have their freedom. It was simply a matter of time...and blood.

"Osu, we have captured a survivor," a voice called over the comms. He recognized it immediately as Muroc's. The younger man sounded as confused as he felt.

"...Repeat your previous statement."

"A Terran woman survived the attack," Muroc reiterated, and Kollos set down his lirpa and cloth.

"That isn't possible. We confirmed that there were no life signs after the bombardment. You should be locating only usable supplies–"

"I am aware of that, but even now she is struggling to escape from my grip - a futile effort, obviously."

Kollos thought silently for a moment before reaching a decision.

"Have one of your guards bring her to the ship. I wish to interrogate her," he ordered, and when the channel closed, a small smirk stretched his lips. Perhaps he would be able to satiate his bloodlust today after all.

He knew the impulse was a savage one, but then, how better to defeat savage beings than by beating them at their own game? Vulcans had attempted a logical, passive approach to resistance. It had failed. Thus, Kollos had met up with others of his species who shared his desire to topple the oppressive Terran Empire and formed a small rebel army.

Logic alone could not prevail in their struggle for freedom. They needed to use force. Violence was all Terrans understood, and who better to outdo them than the people whose past had made a desert run green with their own blood? If the Humans believed they were savages before, they had seen nothing yet. Kollos had vowed to make them see the error of their ways, to continue until the Terrans were kneeling beaten and bloody at their feet, pleading for the mercy that they themselves had not bothered to show to any species but their own.

Kollos stood and ran a hand through his scruffy graying hair, picking up his weapon. With a deep breath, he rolled his scarred, muscled shoulders and looked to the Vulcan at the Operations station.

"I shall await the arrival of our latest prisoner. You have the Bridge."

--

Most Terrans protested their capture, tossing out threats and swearing vengeance, but this one was strangely silent. Curiosity was painted plainly across her face from the moment Kollos laid eyes on her. Sitting on the bench in the brig, she tilted her head like an inquisitive sehlat when he entered the space.

Muroc paused beside his makeshift commander and spoke in a low voice.

"I realize you wanted me to send someone else, but given the circumstances, I believed it would be prudent for me to bring her here myself. After her initial struggle, she seemed to recognize me and ceased her resistance," he stated sounding slightly disconcerted. "She seemed confused about many things: her location, my appearance...she even seemed not to understand the hostilities between her people and ours."

"How did she survive the bombardment?" Muroc merely shook his head and looked at her as if she was some scientific experiment gone wrong.

"I do not know."

The two Vulcans were silent for a moment, observing the woman they'd discovered. She wasn't dressed like the rest of the Terrans they'd encountered, nor did she seem arrogant and prejudiced. However, Kollos knew from experience that appearances could be deceiving.

"She recognized your voice, as well, osu," Muroc murmured, and Kollos looked sharply over at him. "When you responded to me over the comms, she waited until the channel was closed and said that she wished to speak with you. She knew you by name. By that point, she was behaving quite obediently."

Looking back at the Human, Kollos found her smiling softly at him. Anger stirred deep within him, and he took a slow, even breath.

"Leave us. I wish to speak with her alone." He waited until Muroc and the guards had all exited before opening the door to her cell. "If you attempt to resist or escape, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, osu." She spoke quietly, but her words still struck him as hard as a punch to the jaw. He blinked and tamped down his emotions.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked lingering in the doorway. His broad shoulders effectively blocked the way as he crossed his arms, so he wasn't concerned about her being able to slip past him. She didn't even seem bothered about being kept in the brig.

"Yes, osu. You're Minister Kollos of the Vulcan High Command." With a stunned blink, his arms dropped to his sides once more. "You're the first person I met when I reached the Vulcan Embassy...the first Vulcan who honored me with his friendship."

'Friendship'? Kollos would sooner eat his own liver than befriend a Terran. A subconscious sneer curled his upper lip, and he saw her smile droop.

"You...? You don't remember me, do you? Sub-commander Muroc didn't either." She sounded genuinely disappointed, but Kollos couldn't bring himself to care. This little wretch had the audacity, not only to survive, but to come aboard his ship, claim to know him personally, and speak the language of his own people - one that had been made illegal by her Empire.

He knew several Vulcans who had been punished for breathing a single word of their own language around a Terran, himself included. The hours he'd spent locked in an agony booth were certainly enough to cut away any remaining neutrality he'd held for Humans. Hatred had filled that void and now bubbled hot and lethal in his veins.

If his composure was any more fractured, he'd have removed the burden of her head from her shoulders the moment a syllable of Vuhlkansu touched her unworthy, arrogant tongue.

"We are not acquainted, nor would I wish to befriend a single member of your monstrous species." His voice had dropped into a quiet, dangerous register, but she didn't seem frightened. Damn her, why wasn't she intimidated? "You are incorrect on other points, as well. There is no Vulcan High Command - the Terran Empire would never allow their slaves to hold such authority. Muroc is not a Sub-commander - again, your people would never allow us in such high positions. There is no Vulcan embassy, but there are prisons...work camps...slaves. Do you wish to retract your statement?"

She looked up at him with her lips parted in surprise.

"But...but that can't be. Starfleet's mission was to seek out new life...to make friends while we explore the galaxy. The ship we're aboard is the Enterprise, isn't it?"

Kollos shook his head.

"This ship was an Imperial Starfleet ship, but it is now under new ownership and has been renamed. You are currently aboard the Retribution, a ship owned by the Vulcan Resistance Movement," he said straightening up and looking at her with as much defiance as he could muster. "I am the commanding officer."

She looked utterly flabbergasted.

"Osu–"

"You will not speak our language! You have no right, Terran!" He roared, and she flinched. "You will be silent and cause no trouble, or I will use you to test just how much pain one member of your species can endure. We have not had the opportunity to test one of the Terran Empire's Agony Booths on one of their creators yet. If you behave yourself, there will be no reason for you to become the first. Am I understood?"

She nodded her head quietly, but he couldn't deny the pain and sadness in her expression. As he strode from the cell, he tamped down the shard of guilt he felt over losing his temper at her. She'd caused no trouble yet, but who knows? She might be trying to infiltrate his organization and topple them from the inside. Kollos could not risk the future of his people on the chance that this Human was different from the rest of her people.

The sting of the life they'd stolen from him still gripped his heart and twisted his insides with agony every time he dwelled for too long upon what could have been. If the Empire didn't exist, would he have been fortunate enough to have a mate? A permanent home? Perhaps even a child? The stories of how life used to be before the Terrans took over always sounded so idyllic. If he'd lived during that time, would he have a pet sehlat? Could he have immersed himself in more academic pursuits, like science?

Pausing as the lift door closed behind him, Kollos forced himself to take a deep breath. As always, those scenarios that had been snatched away before they had a chance to come into being gnawed incessantly at his brain. He needed to focus on the mission, instead. That was how he was going to survive this war for Vulcan's freedom.

He would gladly spill the blood of every living Terran if it meant future generations of Vulcans would not have to suffer as he had.

It was too bad, though, that he would not be contributing to the gene pool for that future generation. He would've liked to have a family. A mate, a child or two...yes, and a sehlat to protect them all.

When the lift door opened again, Kollos had forced his control back into place, shoved away his pain, and come back to himself. He couldn't afford to waste time with wishful thinking. He had a mission to complete.

--

This was clearly not the Kollos with whom I'd become so familiar. From the moment he raged at me in the brig of his ship, it was obvious that this was an entirely different man. His hair was slightly longer and grayer, and it looked unkempt compared to the Minister's usual appearance. However shaggy it looked, though, it did at least appear soft and clean.

As for the man himself, this Kollos was tough and scarred - obviously battleworn and teeming with bitterness. His physical strength wasn't what startled me, though. His barely-tethered anger did that well enough on its own.

The Kollos I had spoken to barely hours before had been in complete control of his emotions. This one, however...he'd seemed to be on the cusp of losing control and becoming savage like the ancient Vulcans about whom I'd been told so much. He'd been through a lot, this remade Kollos, and from what I could gather, his bitterness was justified.

There were several questions prodding at me insistently, though, the chief of which was whether I'd be able to get home to the universe I knew, because, clearly, this was somewhere entirely different. The second most prominent inquiry was what the hell had happened?

While viewing a scientific experiment as a member of a cultural exchange program on a planet at the edge of Vulcan space, there had been an explosion, a flash of pinkish light, and I'd been knocked to the ground by some unseen force. My vision swam so severely that I'd no choice but to close my eyes.

When I opened them again, my skin tingled, and everything was burning. I'd looked around, squinting through the flames, but there was nobody else in sight. Maybe they'd all gotten out, already? Stumbling toward the exit while trying to stay low, I managed to make it out of the crumbling ruin of a building, but where I expected to see a small, well-maintained city there was only rubble and flame.

Shocked at what I'd found, a small scream worked its way out of my throat. Had a single failed experiment caused all of this? Surely not! This appeared to be planet-wide devastation. The scale of the experiment wouldn't have been capable of destroying much more than a building or two if it went wrong. Besides, the Vulcan scientists conducting it had been so careful. They'd made sure that every precaution was in place.

So how the hell was this region of the planet basically destroyed?

And how was I still alive?

A familiar hum sounded from a few feet away, and several Vulcans in odd outfits materialized. Relief had rushed through me like a great wave, and before I could think better of my actions, before I even noticed that they were all armed and slightly ragged looking, my feet propelled me toward them.

"Oh, thank goodness! Help! Please, I don't know if there's anyone trapped in the–" Four phaser rifles were aimed at me in a fraction of a second. I froze in place, confused more than ever. "W-What are you–?"

"Silence!" One of them ordered, and I broke off my attempts to speak. The same man stepped forward. "Are there others? Did anyone else survive the bombardment?"

What?

"I don't know what you're talking about. I-I was in the lab, and there was an explosion, and when I got up I was here," I stammered, but he seemed not to believe me. "Nothing looks the same. Where am I? Aren't you here to help the injured?"

One of the others scoffed.

"You must have sustained cranial trauma. Why would a Vulcan help Terran scum like you?"

Startled, I could do no more than blink.

"I-I don't understand...? Our people are allies–"

"Allies?" The man closest to me - the familiar one - scowled down at me. "Is that how your species assuages your guilt? By calling your slaves your allies?"

I gaped up at him, but before I could protest, he grabbed my upper arm. I struggled, and when he called his ship, I heard a voice that was so out of place that it barely registered at first. That's when I recognized my captor.

Muroc hadn't believed me when I said I knew him, but I had gotten to see Kollos in the end. Before he raged at me, I thought I saw...well, a glimpse of the man I'd known. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though.

The lights dimmed a couple of hours after he left. With a sigh, I resigned myself to my current imprisonment and resolved to prove to Kollos that I wasn't going to try to oppress him the way he claimed Humanity had already done to his people. The first step, though, needed to be finding out more about this place. What had my people truly done? Were he and the others justified in their hatred? Somehow, I already knew I wouldn't like the answer.

--

Over the course of the next few days, all I saw was the inside of my cell. Each afternoon - or at least, I assumed it was during the afternoon - a different Vulcan brought me a ration pack and a small glass of water to wash it down. Apparently, these officers weren't able to get their hands on a more stable food supply. That didn't bode well.

Occasionally, just before lights out, Kollos came by and asked me a series of seemingly innocuous questions.

"Are you from Earth or a Terran planetary annex?"

"Have you encountered many of my kind?"

"Do you have a family?"

"How has the quality of your sleep been since you took up residence in this cell?"

Finally, though, when he tired of those, his queries became a bit more pointed. Repeatedly he asked me how I survived the blast, but he simply didn't believe that I was just as puzzled as he was. One night, after something like two weeks in captivity, I'd become irritated enough to snap at him.

"Again, I ask you: how did you survive the assault?" He'd already asked the question three times, and after two weeks of awful sleep on the cramped little bench that passed as a bed in my cell, my back ached, I was tired, and I'd just plain had enough. "Your non-compliance will cease. You will tell me how you–"

"I don't know, alright?! Just mind-meld with me if you want the answer that badly! You won't even have to force me. I'll submit to one right now, if it'll stop you asking the same damned questions over and over like a broken fucking record," I ground out, and he raised his eyebrows.

"You...would willingly submit yourself to such a procedure?" The disbelief in his voice was understandable if he'd been telling the truth about Humans being so awful.

"Yes, but only if you're the one performing it."

Taken aback by my willingness, he opened the cell door and gestured for me to stand.

"We will go to the briefing room, and your meld will be witnessed by my most trusted officers," he said. "Out of respect for your good behavior since your capture, I will warn you in advance. If I sense any intentional resistance during the meld, I will cease being gentle and tear the information I require from your synapses. I would prefer to avoid such an action, as it can lead to permanent brain damage, but if you purposefully resist me, I will not hesitate to do so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, os–I mean, sir. Yes, sir," I murmured, hoping he wouldn't be offended that my old habit had nearly made me slip up again. I'd been conversing with Vulcans for so long that small usages of their language, like titles, were simply automatic. It was so hard to turn it off, but I was trying my best for Kollos's sake. After all, even if this wasn't the Kollos I'd come to know so well, I owed it to my memories of our friendship and my feelings for him to at least try to be kind.

We were nearly to the conference room when I realized that I hadn't been cuffed or restrained in any way. Obviously, Kollos either trusted me not to run off, or - more likely - he knew he could catch me with relatively little effort if I did try to escape. Not that there was anywhere I could go. The layout of this universe's Earth starships was different enough to make it seem like an unsolvable maze.

Taking a seat in one of a pair of chairs, I tried very hard to block out the dozen or so sets of eyes watching us. I needed to be relaxed for this meld so that Kollos wouldn't have any need to be rougher than necessary. Even a meld with the most gentle of telepaths could be severely disorienting.

"Have you participated in a mind-meld before?" He asked loudly enough for the others to hear.

"Yes, but not recently."

"Have you any mental training regarding telepathy, mind-melds, or mental defense?" He inquired as he took his own seat directly in front of me.

"No, I don't."

"Very well. I will treat you as all untrained minds are treated. As you will know from your previous melds, anxiety can throw up resistance, whether intentional or not," he said raising his hands but not touching me just yet. "Obey my instructions during the meld, and I will have no need to harm you. Now, take a deep breath."

I did so, and his fingertips met my face: two on my chin, one on either side of my nose, and one on each temple.

The effect was familiar and instantaneous as he began to chant in that low, smooth voice of his.

"My mind to your mind...your thoughts to my thoughts..." His voice faded as our minds merged, and suddenly I found the pair of us standing in front of each other. It was as disconcerting as my previous meld with his counterpart, but I did my best to remain calm. "Recall the day in which my men found you."

All at once, our surroundings changed, and I was in the lab again. The group of Vulcan scientists conducting their experiments were only a few feet away, and I walked slowly toward them.

Kollos blocked my path with a stern expression on his face.

"I said, the day we captured you–"

"This is that day," I said emphatically, and, with the absolute certainty that he'd be able to tell that I was answering truthfully, I stepped around him and moved over to stand beside the machine. Just as it had happened that day, within moments, there was an explosion, and I watched as the pink light engulfed me again.

Disoriented yet again, I felt a small bit of panic creeping into me as acrid smoke filled my lungs once more. Struggling for breath despite the fact that this was just a memory, I knew Kollos would follow, so I did the same thing I did that day, taking the same turns I had until I was outside the smoldering building.

The sight of the devastated landscape was still shocking. All the destruction and the flames licking up amongst the rubble still made me feel a pang of sympathy for whoever might have been trapped.

A large hand met my shoulder in the midst of the meld, and I turned to find Kollos looking at me suspiciously.

"There were no Vulcan life signs on the planet's surface before our attack."

"Neither was there a Terran Empire that morning before the machine exploded," I countered, and before he could ask, I called forth the memories of my own time studying under Vulcan teachers and living alongside them as I walked through life. Image after image, memory after memory floated in. I showed him every instance I could think of regarding Starfleet's mission and Human interactions with other species including Vulcans. Ambassador Soval and Admiral Forrest chatting, Captain Archer and T'Pol walking together, on and on, example after example, until–

"What is this?" His hoarse voice called, and I knew immediately why he suspected that I was somehow manipulating him. The Kollos I knew, the Minister of the High Command, my friend, and the man I'd grown rather...attached to over the years, was standing mere feet from his rougher counterpart.

This was the last time I'd seen him. This was the day I'd left Vulcan. The suns beat down upon us both, but we were in our own little world, as usual, and took no notice of it. Kollos had taken that day quite seriously and had donned a set of his ceremonial robes, the deep green fabric with embroidered flowers and vines twining up the sleeves hugged his torso with an elegance that left me breathless. I could never tell him that, though. It would be highly inappropriate, and I didn't want to risk ruining our friendship with my feelings.

Watching from this odd, outsider's perspective, I saw Kollos take a slow step toward me as we reached the transport station. It was quite deserted that day, mainly because at that time of day the majority of the population would have been busy with their occupations or their education. Given how empty the station was, we didn't bother to keep our voices down - an oddity for my friend, but I'd been glad of it.

"Ashal-veh, there is something which we should discuss when you return from your scientific exchange," he said with the same inflection he'd used that day. Soft and somewhat tender in retrospect, my Kollos's voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, affording me a small measure of comfort that I hadn't experienced in weeks. I'd turned the memory over and over in my mind as I sat uselessly in the brig, wondering what he could've possibly wanted to discuss...and trying to determine the meaning of that damned word. He'd said it before - it seemed to be some sort of a title - but he'd never told me what it meant, and he never used it with anyone else.

I thought I'd have all the time in the world to ask him what it meant.

"As soon as I get back to Vulcan, we'll go to that tea shop you enjoy so much and talk about anything you want for as long as you like," the version of me from my memory responded, and I noticed something I hadn't, in the moment. The Former Minister was blushing. A rare occurrence, indeed!

"That is kind of you, but a private conversation would be more advantageous, in this instance," he murmured, and I watched as the other me cupped his cheeks and smiled up at him. How had I managed to be so bold when I was so sad about leaving him?

"Of course, osu. If that's what you like, then when I get back, you and Koss can come over to my place, we can crack open a bottle of that port you favor, and the three of us can talk all night."

"I...believe this is a topic I should discuss with you alone, first. Depending upon the outcome, my son can be informed later..."

Confused, but wanting to make him happy, I agreed.

"Sure, if that's what you'd like to do. I'd never say 'no' to spending time alone with you, osu. I promise you and I can have a private evening with just the two of us when I'm home again." He nodded his head in approval, and I watched as I kissed his cheek and drew him into a tight hug.

"Six weeks is quite a sizable duration of time for us to be parted, ashal-veh. Are you certain you will be alright?"

A light laugh had poured from my throat as I savored the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I'd never had the courage to hug him before, let alone to dare hope that he'd return the gesture.

"I'll be perfectly fine, you worrywart. If anything, it sounds as if you'll be the one pining over the absence of a friend. I'll miss you too, of course, but it's only a few weeks. You watch, time will fly by and we'll be together again before you know it."

He sighed just as he had that day, brushing the tips of two of his fingers down one of my cheeks, sending a bolt of warmth across my skin. He'd never done that before. Not knowing if it was a gesture with some sort of meaning behind it, I'd taken a chance and copied his movements.

"Be safe." His husky murmur coupled with his light grip on my waist flustered me more than I'd thought possible, and when I watched myself board the transport shuttle, the image of the Minister froze.

I became acutely aware of the other Kollos by my side. As I'd watched the memory of our last interaction together, all at once, the realization that I may never get the chance to ask him what he meant slammed into me, and I felt the corners of my eyes burning with tears. I hadn't meant for my captor to see this reaction or feel how such a private memory was affecting me, but if it proved to him that I was telling the truth and showed him how I knew him, then it was worth it.

"You show me this freely?" He asked, and because of the meld, I heard him as if he was both in front of and beside me. Mild disorientation prodded at me, but I managed a quiet 'yes' in spite of it. "The light you saw in the laboratory...what do you believe it was?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't know. I have several theories, but each is as unlikely as the next," I muttered, trying desperately to ignore how much I could hear the evidence of my tears in my voice. "It could've been some sort of odd radiation surge, or...or a portal through spacetime, for all I know. I'm not a physicist. My area of study is in biochemistry. I will say, though, this is not the universe I left behind. Our people are at peace where I come from."

Gradually, safely, he withdrew from my mind, ending the meld in the same way his counterpart had in a wholly different universe.

"You have not lied to me. You did not try to stop me from viewing the information I required. I do not know how, but you have told me the truth." Kollos sounded as surprised as he looked. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

When he cocked his head curiously, I realized he was truly seeking an answer from me, not just asking a rhetorical question.

"I may not know everything that was done to your people, but I want to help if I can. Who knows if I'll ever be able to get home? In the meantime, I may as well do what I can to right the wrongs committed by my species," I reasoned, and Kollos raised a single eyebrow.

"You expect us to trust a Terran?"

"I don't expect you to after all that you've been through, but I do hope to prove to you that you can, should the need arise."

Kollos glanced at his officers, and nodded his head once.

"You will be given the chance to prove yourself, but be forewarned: if you so much as attempt to betray us, you will regret being conceived."

Oh. Lovely. Death threats seemed to be as common as greetings in this universe. No doubt I'd get used to them as time wore on. They didn't startle me anymore, at least.

"I promise I won't give you any reason to doubt me, sir."

--

As Kollos escorted her to a guarded set of quarters, he couldn't help but feel guilt and self-hatred rising slowly in his chest.

Illogical feelings, of course. Kollos himself had done nothing to warrant such intensity in his own frustrations.

And yet...

'Ashal-veh' the image of himself had called her. Kollos hated that it hadn't been a manipulated memory. Somehow, a well-groomed, happier version of himself had dared to call a Terran woman a Vulcan term of endearment.

After all that those monsters had done! After all that his people had suffered at their hands! How could a Vulcan ever love a Human?! He'd even initiated a partial ozh'esta with her!

The name he'd heard during the meld, Koss, stuck in his head. It was one that he'd considered to be a serious contender if he'd had a son. According to her, this other version of himself did have a son.

All his years of regrets and wishful thinking grated within him at the realization that one of his alternate selves had a family. Clearly in that universe his mate was no longer in the picture, but he'd fallen in love a second time...with a Human.

How could this have happened? He felt betrayed by himself, by his own feelings. He knew already that if he didn't keep his heart turned firmly against her, there was a very good chance that he would end up exactly the way that 'Minister' Kollos had: in love with his worst enemy...worshiping the ground upon which she walked...craving her touch in the dark, solitude of his quarters when he should instead be sleeping...

The strain of walking beside her was quite suddenly too much to bear.

His emotions punched a hole in his tenuous, carefully-regulated control. The rage that he normally held so tightly on its leash curled his lips into a feral snarl. Slamming the Human girl against a bulkhead in the corridor, Kollos gripped her shoulder and her throat with equal ferocity.

"The man you knew is no longer here. Nothing in this galaxy will ever make me care for a Terran!" To her credit, she didn't cry out or struggle. She tilted her head back to lean against the wall, and her eyes...oh, her eyes! She didn't look frightened or defiant. She seemed curious, as if he was a sehlat who'd responded to a command in an unexpected way. "Your people have murdered and enslaved my people, oppressing them and outlawing nearly everything to do with our culture. Until the day your people kneel before Vulcans in obedient supplication, all I am capable of feeling for you is disgust and contempt."

He had to convince her, but most importantly, he had to reinforce that notion in his own mind. He hated her. He had killed many of her kind and would continue to do so in the future, so...

Why wasn't she frightened of him?

Even worse, why was a small part of him proud that she wasn't?

Without further ado, Kollos opened the door to her quarters and practically shoved her inside.

"You are not to leave without authorization. If you require anything, your guards will attend to it," he said shoving his emotions back into place. "If you keep to your word and assist us, you will be rewarded. If not, you will die. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," she murmured straightening her posture. He didn't even acknowledge her answer. He just turned on his heel and beat a hasty retreat to his quarters.

As he did every night, Kollos removed his shirt and attempted to meditate, but this time all he got for his efforts was a single word echoing through his mind on repeat: 'ashal-veh.'

Eventually, he fetched his lirpa from its place on the wall, and, with an almighty roar, he brought the blunt end down on the table in front of him, smashing it to splinters in one blow.

For a moment, all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears and his heavy breathing, then his door chime sounded. With resignation, he called for whoever it was to enter. He knew there was no chance of hiding the evidence of his temper, so his guest would simply have to cope with the state of his quarters.

"Osu?" His eyes snapped up at the sound of Muroc's hesitant voice. He never sounded like that. Kollos must've startled him when he lost his temper. "Are you well?"

"...I do not know," he murmured setting his lirpa back on its wall mounted hooks.

"Did something in the Terran's mind...trouble you?" When Kollos remained silent, Muroc tried again. "You know that anything you tell me will remain confidential, do you not?"

He supposed that it was only fair that he tell his second in command about the revelation that was compromising his emotional control so severely.

"Sit, my friend. I have much to communicate to you."

They spoke for many hours that night. Confessing everything to Muroc was somewhat therapeutic. Having someone share in his confusion and voice the same questions confirmed to him that he wasn't hallucinating or otherwise losing his mind. Never had relief felt so sweet.

Over the next thirty-seven days - not that he'd been keeping count - the girl had kept to her word. She was as involved in their resistance movement as they allowed her to be. At first, they only gave her small tasks that could be supervised: assisting with ship maintenance, tending to superficial injuries, and preparing the food they'd secured in their various raids.

To Kollos's surprise, she had done everything she was asked, never uttering a single complaint. She always gave a small acknowledgement - 'yes, sir' or 'I'm on it' or something similar - and got straight to work. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she truly enjoyed being able to help them fight back against her own people.

The first few weeks, he wasn't really convinced that she'd keep her word, but when she bled for them two months in, Kollos was forced to admit that she was serious. During a mild skirmish against a small Terran transport, Kollos decided to test her loyalty, so he assigned her to the boarding party. They were responsible for taking out any guards in the cargo hold and tagging the crates with transport signal enhancers.

Everything went according to plan. Kollos managed to disable the ship's engines and sensors, and when the boarding party transported over, there were only a few guards to deal with. Within mere moments, they'd stolen the supplies due to be delivered to a nearby Terran starbase, and made it back aboard the Retribution.

When Muroc and the Terran reported to the Bridge to give their account of events for the record, he saw a large, red stain blooming across the upper arm of her shirt. Kollos brought her to the medical bay and tended to her personally. She had fought her own people and bled in the service of the Vulcan Resistance. That was more than any Terran had ever done on behalf of his people. She deserved respect after that.

As she sat on the medical bed while he sterilized her wound, he found himself speaking before he could think better of it.

"You are not...In my experience, Terrans do not behave the way that you have. You act as though you truly wish us to be free," he murmured, not daring to meet her gaze with his own. He focused on the task before him, wondering why he was feeling almost positive about her.

"That's because I do, osu." He should've raged at her as he did before. He should've carried out his threats for her casual use of his people's language, but...he didn't. The thought of retaliating against her made it harder for him to breathe. Instead, he looked into her eyes.

Oh. Was this what his counterpart had seen? Bravery, intelligence, and beauty, all wrapped up in one fragile Human woman? Well, given her actions today, perhaps 'fragile' was an inaccurate descriptor. He caressed the bandage that he'd wrapped around her arm without conscious thought.

The insatiable urge to know exactly how much she knew about his culture rose as fast and furiously within him as lava in a fissure vent. How much had the other version of himself taught her? Would she misunderstand him as she had the other Kollos when he all but confessed to desiring her as a mate?

His jaw clenched at the thought. No, he would leave no room for misinterpretation in their courtship–

Courtship?! What was he thinking? She...she was Human!

But that argument felt weaker every time he used it to tamp down his growing emotions. She was Human, but she'd proved herself to be strong, determined, and fair-minded. Could he really continue to hold against her that which she could not control?

"Have you been shown the Vulcan method of meditation?" She looked a bit surprised at his question, but she nodded her head and uttered a quiet 'yes, osu' that send his heart racing in his side. "Very well. Tonight, I will bring the necessary items, and we will meditate together in your quarters. I would like to assess your technique."

Later that evening when he kept his word, he entered her quarters only to find her kneeling in the center of her living space. His brow furrowed as he tried to determine what she was doing.

"You said that until Humanity knelt before Vulcans, until we humbled ourselves, all you could feel for me was disgust and contempt. I can't make you like me, Kollos, but I don't want you to feel disgusted by me, either," she murmured as he made his way toward her. "I may only be one Human, but one is a start...right? Is this enough to earn some personal neutrality in your eyes?"

Kollos dropped to his knees before her, setting his meditation accoutrements aside. Where could he even begin when he hadn't even begun to puzzle out his own feelings?

"Even before this, you have proved yourself more worthy of respect than any other Terran." The surprised smile she gave him more than made up for the difficulty of that admission. That acknowledgement alone startled him into turning away to set up the candles. "Come. Meditate with me."

--

The next time Kollos was involved in a hand-to-hand fight against the Empire's forces, she was by his side. He'd never been in battle at her side before, so he hoped that she'd view this as the sign of trust that he intended it to be.

It began easily enough. Combat with Empire ships was fairly common for them, but this one had a big prize: this shipment of supplies was due to be delivered to the Emperor. The goods aboard were of the highest quality, and the Resistance wanted them. Badly.

Disabling the engines had been easy enough, but how Muroc had managed to disable their communication array before they could get a message off, Kollos had no idea. He wasn't complaining, though. That just made their job simpler.

Grabbing his lirpa, Kollos felt his lips tug into an almost-smile that easily betrayed how much he was looking forward to this. It had been far too long since he'd last spilled the blood of his enemies. Knocking a few heads together always felt rather therapeutic. For him, this was long overdue.

They'd made excellent progress through the guards, at first, removing them from the equation as easily as swatting flies.

Halfway through, however, reinforcements were summoned from other decks, and soon Kollos and his fighters were surrounded. When he was pushing back two Terrans at once, a man managed to get past him with a knife in hand.

He turned barely a fraction of a second later, but that was enough time for the man to grab Kollos's Terran. He dared to lay a hand on her – on his mate!

Kollos saw red. Thinking of nothing but her, he began tearing through the enemies before him. He didn't stop until he was within grabbing distance of the Human man. His target let out a startled yelp when he was tugged backward by Kollos's grip on his uniform collar. A primal yell tore from the Vulcan's throat as he threw the Terran officer to the ground and brought the blade end of his lirpa down on his neck.

The dagger that had been pressing into her skin now lay on the ground by the dead man's feet, a small drop of red Human blood coloring the tip. Her blood.

Still breathing heavily, Kollos turned his gaze to her, fully aware that he most likely looked utterly savage and murderous, covered in the evidence of his body count from this fight. The scratch at the hollow of her throat slowly wept a few drops of blood, staining her clothing as he moved closer to her. Reaching out with all the care he could muster in his current state, Kollos brushed his fingertips down the length of her clavicle.

There was much that he needed to communicate to her: his regret over behaving so foolishly toward her; his fear at the sight of someone getting that close to her with a weapon; the affection he felt for her that he was no longer able to ignore; his relief that she was not seriously injured. The significance of his need to protect her was at the forefront of his mind, but all he could seem to manage at that particular second was looking into her eyes.

He was certain that his own hunger for her was showing quite plainly, but he couldn't tell whether the reciprocal desire he saw in her irises was really there, or if he was simply projecting his own emotions onto her features in his mind's eye.

Her hands came up and covered his where it rested, and Kollos felt his control falter. He could take her here. It would be a simple matter for him to shred her clothing and stake his claim to her in front of everyone else. Her screams would be for him...because of him...

"Kollos?" Her barely audible call of his name snapped him from his primal, spiraling thoughts. The sounds of fighting had died out around them. "Are you alright?"

He swallowed heavily, tearing his eyes away from hers with great difficulty.

"I am unharmed," he croaked, but, emotionally, he wasn't sure that he was. How could he be after witnessing danger sidle up to the woman he loved, brandishing a dagger?

He couldn't remove her from his thoughts that night no matter how hard he tried. It had been wrong of him to immediately react as though they were already bonded, but...it had been instinctive. He could not force himself to feel guilt over his actions. The memory of the hungry look she gave him still burned so vividly in his mind's eye, stoking the flames of his desire. All of his confused emotions swirled around inside him, but they all essentially acknowledged the same central point: Kollos loved and needed this Human woman more than he'd ever needed anyone before.

It was shameful for him to give in to his emotions so easily, but that night Kollos couldn't help himself. He was forced to satisfy himself with his hand. With every stroke he imagine the caress of warm, slick walls gripping his length in place of his callused fingers. Would she sound as gentle as she looked, or was she just as savage inside as he was?

No! No, he mustn't allow himself to think such things about her. She may have looked as though she was prepared to offer herself to him during that fight, but she deserved more than that. She deserved his respect.

When the explosion happened a few days later, that was how he justified his actions. This was repayment for the respect she'd earned, nothing more.

That was a lie, of course. It was more. He knew from the moment he threw himself into action that this could never just be simple respect.

Kollos didn't think in the moment. He didn't analyze the situation. He simply acted. The minor skirmish in which they'd become involved was on the verge of being won, but the Retribution had taken damage. Small fires and shorting circuits illuminated the bridge from all corners. A familiar, high-pitched whine began, and Kollos leapt at her, wrapping her in his arms and shielding her with his own body just as the console she'd been working at exploded. Heat and pressure met the expanse of his back, and something hit him hard enough to knock them both to the ground.

As the pair managed to scramble away from the flames, he noted with relief that she was not hurt. She looked up at him in surprise - did she truly believe he would have allowed her to be hurt on his watch? - but when her eyes trailed lower, she went pale.

"We need a medic! Now!" She shouted over her shoulder, and when he looked down, there was a long, sharp piece of metal protruding from just below his collarbone. An emerald puddle of his blood was already forming on the deck plate beneath them.

Ah. He'd been impaled. No matter. His injury was irrelevant. She was alarmed but safe. That was his only concern.

Why was the Bridge spinning?

There was a dull thunk as his back struck the ground at an angle, but her hands cushioned his head's impact. He couldn't bring himself to regret his actions, especially looking up into her eyes at such close proximity. Her fingertips were so soft where they met his skin. He wished she would touch him for the rest of his existence. Why had he ever fought his attraction to her?

As his consciousness faded, he managed a single word, even though he was barely aware that he was speaking aloud.

"Ashal-v...veh," he breathed just before the world went black.

--

The trip to the medical bay was a blur. Muroc had reached Kollos's side on the bridge just in time to hear him utter that word. Nobody said a word as their leader was laid on a medical bed to receive their doctor's ministrations, but Muroc did give me a respectful nod while we waited.

Both versions of Kollos had called me the same term: 'ashal-veh.' Not long ago, Kollos pinned me against a wall and swore that he'd only ever be able to hate me, and now he'd saved my life twice. The look he gave me the first time nearly made me spontaneously combust where I stood.

Seeing him stalk toward me, glaring and covered in blood was almost more than I'd been able to handle. I'd thought - a small part of me had hoped - that he was going to claim me right there against the Terran ship's bulkhead. Instead, his touch had been feather-light, and I'd been more sexually frustrated when I returned to my quarters that night than ever before.

To complicate things even further, beyond simple lust, I'd begun to feel soft for this hardened, bitter, angry mess of a Vulcan freedom-fighter. His emotional control was tenuous at the best of times, he held grudges against those who had wronged him or his people, and he seemed to enjoy killing a little too much, but despite all of that - hell, maybe because of all of that - I loved him. I'd watched him murder a man who'd gotten too close to me with a knife, yet I still felt irresistibly drawn to him.

What the hell did that say about my own morality?

After all, under that rough exterior, Kollos wasn't completely evil. He had protected me, respected me, and even though he wanted to kill me multiple times in the beginning of our acquaintance, he'd given me a chance to prove myself. Hell, I'd even seen him full of bloodlust and rage, deep in the heart of battle, savage and the polar opposite of how a Vulcan was supposed to behave, but I couldn't help the way my heart fluttered when he'd regarded me with blatant lust afterward.

Those nights where we meditated together - yes, there had been many more than just the one - were soothing and tense in equal measures. On the one hand, I could almost forget that I wasn't with the Kollos I'd known before. Those nights, he was tranquil and serene. On the other, every time I closed my eyes to meditate with him, I felt as though I was being watched...as if he didn't actually close his eyes. I had wondered more than once if he'd simply taken the opportunity that those nights had afforded to observe me in close quarters.

That thought seemed mildly creepy, at first, but after a while, I almost relished the feeling of being so interesting to him that he couldn't help but shirk his nightly meditation to watch me instead. It was somehow simultaneously odd and flattering. For all his blustering, I knew deep down that he would never harm me. The universe didn't have many constants, but he was one of them.

And I knew that no matter his threats, he would never carry them out. Whether from confusion or desire, I was simply more intriguing to him when I was in one piece and able to behave as illogically as my species was so famous for amongst his people.

Upon reflection, his presence here in this terrifying version of the galaxy seemed like a sort of cosmic apology from the universe for ripping me so unceremoniously away from my home.

My home...I hadn't thought of it for a couple of weeks. The other Kollos must surely have given me up for dead, assuming that time passed the same way in both universes. I hadn't meant to break my promise to him.

A deep, shuddering sort of regret flooded through me, tasting distinctly sour and disgusting as I took a seat beside my Vulcan freedom fighter. Muroc and the doctor had spoken quietly for a few moments and left me alone with him. They'd done all they could. The rest was up to Kollos and his own strength. There was nothing I could do but wait, so that was what I did. Grasping one of his hands with both of my own, I stared at the bandages wrapped securely around his torso. The slight green stain that had seeped through at the location of his wound made my breath hitch in my throat.

I'd lost my chance to tell Former Minister Kollos of the Vulcan High Command how I felt about him, but that didn't mean I was going to lose my chance to tell Kollos of the Vulcan Resistance Movement just how much I adored him. Even if he hated me for it, I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. That would kill me.

So I resolved to wait by his bedside until he awoke. Maybe then we could come to some sort of mutual understanding.

And maybe - just maybe - I could finally figure out what that damned word meant.

Long, silent hours passed with nothing more than the sound of the medical machinery around me and the occasional visits from the doctor. Time ended up blurring together, and before I knew it, I had leaned my head down beside Kollos's arm on his medical bed and dropped off into a light slumber.

--

When his conscious mind finally surfaced, Kollos became aware of two things. The first was that the doctor had kindly dimmed the lights. The second was that his left hand was warmer than his right, and that warmth was accompanied by the sound of slow, steady breathing. Someone had fallen asleep keeping watch over him.

Cracking his eyelids open despite their leaden weight, Kollos saw the angelic visage of the Terran woman he'd fallen so hard for. Both her hands were grasping at his left. Her face was smooshed into the fabric of the blanket that was covering him from the waist down.

If he concentrated very hard with his slowly-recuperating strength, he found that he could catch glimpses of her dreams. For a time, they seemed to be a mix of nonsensical chaos mixed with flashes of anxiety over his condition.

Of all the people for his instincts to select as the ideal partner, he was truthfully glad that it was she who had been selected.

Kollos had no idea how long he'd been dipping in and out of her dreams when she finally stirred. A bleary yawn escaped her, and she blinked at him, seemingly taking a moment to recognize that he was awake just as she was.

"Lesek, t'sai." His raspy whisper settled over her like a blanket. He could see the moment she recalled the meaning of those words, because her eyes widened almost comically as she sat up.

"You're welcome, but I haven't done anything. Hell, I should be thanking you - actually, I am thanking you - for risking your life to save mine," she responded. Her own voice was equally rough with sleep as she spoke, but he found it alluring. "Kollos? I...don't know how to tell you this, but I never had the chance to say it to the other you. I mean it just as much with you as I did with him, and I don't think you'll be happy to hear it, but..."

She took a deep, steadying breath, leaning back to give him some space as she poured her heart out.

"I know we didn't start out on the best of terms, but I've developed...feelings for you." Despite his injury, Kollos sat up and grasped her jaw lightly in one large hand. "I-I know you must be upset, b-but I promise I can keep them to myself if you–"

"You must tell me to stop," he croaked, and she looked up at him quizzically.

"What are you talking about?"

"This is your last chance. Refuse me now while I am still able to turn away. Otherwise..." He swallowed around the lump in his throat that had risen at the thought of her rejection. "Otherwise, I will take you right here and claim you until your voice is gone. You will be mine, and I will be yours."

To his surprise, she smiled affectionately up at him.

"Kollos, I've been yours since the day I was brought aboard your ship."

"Do you fully understand what you are getting yourself into?" He asked as his eyes skimmed her face for any sign of second thoughts. "I have killed many of your people. In my resistance to the Terran Empire, I will likely kill many more. I...very nearly killed you on more than one occasion."

"I know exactly who you are, osu. You're not the Minister of the High Command who I became friends with in my universe. You're Kollos, defender of Vulcan rights. You are Kollos the Brave, Kollos the Valiant...and I love you," she murmured, sliding her hands slowly up his chest to rest carefully atop his bandages. "But I warn you: if you take me, I expect you to keep me."

His pride roared within him as his forehead touched hers.

"Oh, ashal-veh, there was no question about that."

"Are you ever going to tell me what that word means?" She asked as a huff of laughter escaped her. It was abruptly transformed into a gasp as he lifted her onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck to inhale her scent.

"If you behave like a good girl for me, I may tell you when we are catching our breath."

Her answering whimper and the sensation of her fingers burying themselves in his hair was all the confirmation he needed to continue. The other version of himself had no idea what he was missing out on.

~*~*~

Vulcan Words:

Osu = sir

ashal-veh = darling

lesek = thank you

t'sai = my lady

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[daddydindjarin]

The Long and Winding Road Part II: Mississippi

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no physical description of the Reader given) 

Rating: 18+ Mature 

Wordcount: 2875 

Summary: You hit your must see spots in Mississippi, and you fight back every bit of attraction to this broad stranger that you can. It’s a losing battle. 

A/N: What can I say, this is wholly self indulgent. And un-beta’d. Lemme know if you see any glaring errors!  Dividers by @firefly-graphics! Thank you especially to the discord besties and @the-ginger-hedge-witch​ for listening to my panic over actually writing something more than a one-shot, and for all the great tips. Especially the road trip ideas. 

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Frankie couldn’t figure her out.

He had spent years in the military, interacting with people from all walks of life. From the rich kids following in their parent’s footsteps, to fresh faced kids straight from high school looking for a naïve hope at an opportunity to build a better future than the past they had, most people were the same. They were greedy, self-serving, and usually just bastards with a hidden agenda. He counted himself among them, from the jobs he took for money, to nights spent high on cocaine and the touch of someone who he could pretend he loved for a few hours.

But this woman…

He glanced over at her from the driver’s seat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as the first thing he saw were her feet propped up on the dashboard, the long line of her bare legs tucked up to rest her journal on her knees. Her hair was pulled back away from her face so the wind didn’t blow it all over the place, and she was humming along to Stevie Nicks’ dulcet tones crooning from the radio.

They had been traveling for two days, stopping at every whim she had. An afternoon was spent in St. Augustine and Ponte Vedra, touring the light house, and walking the beach. The morning saw them in Savannah, Georgia, eating breakfast along the marshes. True to her word, he paid for nothing, even with a neat $15,000 burning a hole in his pocket. She purchased every meal, snacks, drinks, and even offered to buy souvenirs for Gabriela. The first night, she offered to sleep in the Jeep instead of the popup rooftop tent on the Jeep’s roof, which he turned down almost immediately. They had argued back and forth, with her stubbornly reminding him that he was the one driving, and needed a good night’s sleep, so they finally came to an agreement just to share the small space.

“We’re both adults,” she had said, rifling through the small suitcase in the backseat. “We can share a bed.”

“Yeah,” he agreed finally, realizing her stubbornness would win out in the end, “that’s fine. I’ve slept in worse places.”

She laughed, starting the climb up to the tent, “Careful what you speak into the universe. Maybe I snore, and you’re in for a rough night.”

Frankie barked out a laugh, “I doubt it’ll be worse than some of the guys I’ve bunked down with.”

It was worse.

She didn’t snore, although she did talk in her sleep, trying to have a conversation with no one for the better part of the night. But even that was nothing compared to the way he woke up with her wrapped around him like a lifeline, her face buried in his chest. They had started off back to back, pushed as far to the edges of the pallet as they could get, and sometime between drifting off while talking about their favorite songs, and the sun rising, they had wound up in the center of the tent, his arms wrapped around her, and her leg thrown over his. She had managed to push her covers off of her, but then sought the warmth that Frankie gave off in her sleep.

Frankie had quickly and quietly extracted himself from her hold before scrambling down the ladder, the brisk autumn air doing nothing to calm his heart or other parts of his anatomy that was all too aware that a gorgeous woman was feet away, and had been in close proximity. The shame burned at the back of his neck, but he found himself wanting to return to the tent, and curl back up to sleep in her arms.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since then, even as they were well on their way into Alabama. He chalked it up to proximity and loneliness, only having his hand for company the last few months as he stayed clean, determined to do right by his kid, even if that meant suffering through the withdrawals and the craving to lose himself and his memories in a drug that offered nothing but forgetting and despair at the end of the high.

She, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know about their nighttime encounter. She was happily watching the trees as they drove and would occasionally look down to her journal to scribble something down, a sentence here, a doodle there. He had seen her press a wild flower into the pages in Talladega  National Forest, and use it as a coaster for tea in Tuscaloosa. She carried it with her everywhere, fishing it out of her bag for reasons unknown to him, sometimes to scrawl a reminder, and other times spending a few moments writing before smiling up at him, telling him she was ready to move on.

She was an enigma to him, altruistic and kind to everyone they ran into. She really did spend most of her time looking at the things she was interested in, not concerned with taking photos of the view, even as she offered to take his photo for him, which he usually declined, except on the rare occasion he found a chance to send a photo of himself with a giant swordfish in Savannah to Pope, captioned, “finally found the fish you said you had on the line when you pulled that boot.”

He received a middle finger emoji as a response.

He had expected a lot of chatter as they drove, one of the reasons he had tallied in the “con” section of why he should take this job. It ranked fairly low on the list however, and the payload far outweighed any reason he could give to skip out on the opportunity. He was surprised though, when the first six hours had passed only interrupted by her humming, and the occasional request to stop somewhere. It wasn’t as if it was an awkward silence that you can chalk up to being in a confined space with a literal stranger, but instead a comfortable atmosphere where no words were really needed. He didn’t want to think about the fact that this was the most peaceful he had felt in a while, and instead turned the volume up on the radio, tapping his fingers along to Como La Flor.

You had three missed texts from Alyssa, checking in to make sure that Benny’s pilot friend hadn’t actually killed you on day one of the road trip, and you made a mental note to text her back at the next stop. You knew if you tried to read too much while in the car, you’d be hit with a migraine, and you didn’t feel like having Frankie pull over just so you could get sick this early into the trip.

Speaking of Frankie…

You peeked over at him, watching his head bop along to the music, and you could feel the smile straining against your lips as you whipped your head back around to watching the passing trees. It was crazy how attracted to him you were. From his long eyelashes framing those deep puppy dog eyes, to his plump lips that you had to force yourself not to watch as he spoke, you knew that you were quickly developing a crush on him. Which was normal you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. It was normal to be attracted to someone. It didn’t mean you had to act on it. And there wasn’t a chance of anything happening really. The trip was only three months long, and then you’d be leaving, so it was pointless to even think about romance.

This wasn’t a 90s rom com. This was the trip of a lifetime, and you were going to enjoy the time you had left on it, not spend it worrying about Francisco Morales and his dumb cowlick that he thought was well hidden under that Standard Oil baseball cap.

Passing under the exit sign for Columbus, Alabama, you checked your map again, looking for anything that caught your eyes. “Oh!” you exclaimed, tapping the map. “You should take this exit!”

Frankie imperceptibly turned his head to look at where you were pointing on the map, an eyebrow raised. “Tupelo?”

“Yeah! Have you ever been?”

“Probably passed through there once or twice, but I don’t think we ever stopped,” he replied, rubbing a hand on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in the last few days, you had noticed, and you wondered what the short whiskers would feel like under your fingers. “Why d’you want to stop there?”

You really didn’t have reason, other than, “I hear they have good honey. And wasn’t Elvis born there?”

Frankie chuckled, but dutifully took the exit onto I-45. “Well, let’s go get you some of that honey, but if you’re wanting to see the king, we need to head to Memphis.”

You made a note on the map, studying it for a moment longer. “I do want to see Memphis, but I think it would be smart, and probably more efficient to hit the south, and then kind of zig zag before heading north?” Your fingers danced in the air, mimicking the zigzag pattern to make your point.

He nodded. “That makes sense. Is there anything on that “must list” of yours for the south that we need to make sure we do?”

He remembered. You beamed at his words, almost laughing that such a small thing could make you so happy. “There are a few, actually.” Tucking loose piece of hair behind your ear, you pulled out your journal, flipping through the pages. “Since we’re heading into Mississippi, I want to check out Rowan Oak. Tishomingo State Park would be nice to visit too. Dunn’s Falls is on the list, but I feel like we might be going around our ass to scratch our elbow with that one.”

Frankie shrugged, glancing over at you. “A little extra mileage never hurt anybody. Besides,” he continued, “if it’s on your “must list,” we must go see it.”

His sincerity was palpable, and you wanted to cry. The one thing you had been dreading with finding a glorified chauffer was that they would talk you out of some of the things you wanted to do because it would be such a long and winding route to see everything on your list. Well, that and possibly being killed before your time, but mostly complaining. Frankie never once complained, following your every whim with good humor. He didn’t ask many questions after your first meeting, which you appreciated more than you could say. Like you said, the whys weren’t important now. It was just the doing that mattered.

“Thank you,” you finally said, looking back out the window so he wouldn’t see if any stray tears made their way down your cheeks.

You didn’t see his answer nod, or the way the tips of his ears turned pink as you headed toward Tupelo.  

Tupelo had seen them to honey and biscuits, as well as a stop at the birthplace of Elvis. You had convinced Frankie to take a picture touching the statue’s hand like a crying teenage girl, which he did with a roll of his eyes, but you know he sent the picture to someone in his phone named “Pope.”

You wound your way across the state to Rowan Oak, your heart fluttering at the smell of Cedar in the air as you and Frankie walked along the grounds. You got lost in the concentric garden, finding the large magnolia in the center an hour later, taking a break under the sprawling branches for a few moments.

“How old do you think this tree is?” you asked, your eyes closed as you leaned against the tree, the bark digging into your back, and the sound of birds nesting in the trees lulling you into a calmness.

“Dunno,” Frankie said from his spot beside you, shoulders touching just enough that you could feel the burn of him. “Doubt they’d let us cut it down to count the rings.”

You snorted. “No, I don’t think they would. William Faulkner would roll over in his grave if they did.” The silence stretched comfortably between you, and you closed your eyes again, the humid air making you sleepy. You may have drifted off under that old tree, because when you blinked your eyes open, Frankie was standing to the side of the trail, and there was a fresh Magnolia bloom in your lap. You smiled softly, taking a petal and pressing it into your journal before joining him, letting him lead the way out of the maze.

You headed back towards Tupelo that night, stopping just outside the city to bunk down, before driving the few hours to Tishomingo. He groaned good naturedly as you pulled on your hiking boots, and followed you onto the trail, but the beauty of the landscape stopped even his joking about the early morning dew. You found ruins and old bridges leading to long abandoned cabins, and Frankie told you of a time he spent overseas in a similar looking abandoned house with his team, and how Benny and Will went through a wall play fighting each other. Your peals of laughter probably scared the local wildlife away, but you didn’t mind, happy to just be privy to stories from Frankie’s past.

You ate lunch beside a waterfall, drinking your tea cold for a lack of hot water. You didn’t mind, to tell the truth, but the face Frankie made assured you he wouldn’t be partaking. He had been eyeing the water for a while now, sweat beading on your foreheads. You stood, slipping your boots and socks off, and he looked up at you, an eyebrow raised. “Whatcha doin?”

Grinning, you took off at a run for the edge pool of water, leaping into it. A shout of alarm went up behind you, drowned out by the rush of water going over your head. You could still hear the roar of the waterfall dumping into the basin above you, and when you popped out of the water taking a gulp of air, Frankie stood on the shore, hands on his hips staring down at you.

“What are you doing?”

You laughed kicking your feet out under you. “Living!” You swam in a circle, sighing at the cool water. “Come in!”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Chiflada!”

You pouted, “Oh, come on, Francisco! The water feels great!” You pushed your arm forward, splashing him with water, and he yelped, jumping back. “Don’t be such a chicken!”

Frankie laughed, wrenching his shirt over his head, “Oh, you asked for it!” He lunged into the water and you reeled back, screaming in delight as his long arms reached for you. You danced out of his reach, splashing him with water as you went. Frankie roared at you, pushing forward in the water to wrap his arms around you. You pushed at his chest, squealing, and laughing as his fingers danced along your ribs. His laughter rumbled through his chest and rippled across your skin, lighting up his face.

“I give, I give!” you laughed, spluttered around the hair in your face. “You’re King of the Water!”

“Damn right,” he replied, grinning at you, and you suddenly realized how close the two of you were, chest to chest, only your clothes between you. You were acutely aware of the cold water pebbling your nipples against his chest, and you felt your face heating up from the proximity of this broad man. He was looking at you, his eyes soft, and you could feel yourself internally panicking.

He could sense your trepidation, and slowly released you, his kind eyes catching yours as you backed away from him, breathing hard. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I’m fine. Just out of breath.” The lie came easily enough, and you hid behind and easy grin. “Told you the water felt nice though.”

Groaning, he leaned back slightly, looking up at the waterfall, “Yeah, but now we have to hike back to the Jeep in wet clothes. And it’s still hot.”

“Come on, Fly Boy, where’s your sense of adventure?” You questioned him, thanking everything that your racing heart was starting to come under control.

“Trust me, Chiflada, I’ve had enough adventures to last a lifetime.”

You mulled over his words, pulling yourself out of the water and then offering him your hand. “Well, that may be true, but you’ve never had one with someone like me.”

He took your hand, squeezing it gently as he pulled himself up next to you, close enough again for you to see the freckles across his strong nose. “No,” he agreed, speaking softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.”

You blushed, turning away quickly to gather your things, your heart rate picking up again. You’d think about this more later, when the night was still, and the clothes you were wearing were hung on a line to dry in the hot Mississippi night air. When you’d be able to feel him at your back, and for the first time regret the short time you had left.

←Previous  Next→

[the-lark-ascending69]

Just finished reading Rebel Robin. I liked it for the most part, it has a lot of cool Robin Lore, but I feel it can be a bit inconsistent with other Robin Lore from the podcast and the show (both of which I feel are a lot more syncronized with each other than the book is). I feel like it ends on a way too optimistic note, in which Robin is happy as a rebellious loner, fully honest with herself and the world and knowing it's just a matter of time until she finds her people, while show Robin talks about secretly wanting to be normal and accepted, and believing no one would want to be close to her if they knew her secret. Podcast Robin, while still in a far earlier stage of teenage Robin angst, says the universe is telling her she's not supposed to have friends and that there's something rotten inside of her. Even by the end of the podcast, her conclussion is that she needs to do everything in her power to survive inside the system, even if that includes lying and cheating. Podcast Robin reaches the conclussion that blackmail is a valid way to fight for survival, which I think can be fitting with Show Robin, who was never pushed to that extreme but who was still clearly cynical about people. Book Robin is just too at peace, as if she got everything figured out. She's confident in ways show Robin and Podcast Robin aren't. I can see 15 years old Podcast Robin growing into 17 years old Show Robin, but I can't see Book Robin growing into Show Robin. Otherwise it would be like she went two years backwards in the span of two days because... she was kidnapped by russian soldiers? I don't know if that's the kind of thing that makes you want to be "normal and accepted".

I feel like book Robin wasn't lonely enough. She had like two best friends, danced with a girl at prom in front of everyone else... of course she's going to be confident. Of course she's not going to feel the need to be "normal and accepted". Book Robin abandons the idea of "camouflage" by the end in a way that podcast Robin doesn't, which is more consistent with show Robin. Show Robin isn't all that confident. She doesn't genuinely "not care", she just tells herself she doesn't.

Compare to:

Does this sound like Robin "my whole life has been one big error" Buckley? It sounds like she should be wayyyy past that! It sounds like the order of these events should be switched.

I have some thinking to do about this book. I thought it was fine, I liked the Robin Lore that didn't contradict itself, which is most of it tbh. Robin will quote Nietzche off the top of her head and I'll think "yeah, that makes sense". She knows from memory the etymology of random words and will talk about that during a discussion as if it were an actual argument. Robin also seems prone, in both the book and the podcast, to project her own feelings on other people (namely Barb and Tammy), which isn't something we see in the show (she IS older and more mature there), but it's not contradictory either. I liked her family, though I wish we'd got a bit more development about them. Near the beginning of the book, Robin asks her mom how come their family ended up in Hawkins, and her mom changed the topic, so I assumed there was some kind of emotional mother-daughter talk later in the book about how they wanted a safe and stable place to raise their daughter or something, but the talk never came. I liked Milton and Kate, especially Milton. Dash is a piece of shit. Mr. Hauser is good but he's better in the podcast.

I can't help to go back to the podcast, agh! It just feels so much more inspired. If i had to name the one piece of media that I think treated Robin's character with the most love and passion, it would be the podcast, no questions asked. It treats her with more love than the show, even, and I love show Robin, but the podcast is just... special. Podcast Robin got a better development in 6 episodes than book Robin did in 300 pages imo.

I know the book and podcast are both like semi-canon, but I will choose to consider the podcast to be above the book in terms of canon density. I wouldn't want to ignore the book because it provides interesting information on Robin's family, her plans to go to Europe, her friends and her feelings for Tammy Thompson, and if you want to write some very canon-accurate fanfic depiction of Robin, the book will certainly be helpful. Plus, it's just a good read, a good coming of age story. I do recommend it. But in areas where it contradicts the podcast, I would priorize the podcast as more strictly canon, not only because I think it's of higher quality (which I do), but because it's more aligned with show canon Robin.

Anyway, go listen to Surviving Hawkins, it's free on YouTube and Spotify I think, and it's amazing.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Just Accept it! (READ THE DAMN DISCLAIMER!)

A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I'm back with another fic for you! Couldn't find a better pic

Pairing: Yandere Henry Cavill x Trans male reader; Tyler Hoechlin x trans male reader. (mentioned)

Rating: MATURE

Warnings: Male Pregnancy, use of drugs, kidnapping, no consent. (what you expect? This yandere)

Word count: 3560

Summary: It started out with acting, then it went to stalking, and it went to him kidnapping you. And it ended with you spending the rest of your life with him.

I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's bad! And sorry for any errors that are found!

If you like what I write, how about check out my masterlist?

Keys:

E/c: Eye color

H/c: Hair Color

H/l: Hair length

S/c: Skin color

Y/a: Your age. (Pick an appropriate age)

DISCLAIMER!: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING TRANS MALE READER. I'M SORRY IF ANYTHING OFFENDS ANYONE.

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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Henry was currently waiting for this someone to come. 'I wonder who it could be.' he thought to myself. We were going to start acting in the new TV show, Superman & Lois.

(Okay, I know that Tyler stars in this, but I'm just going to switch him out with Henry and play as Lois. You can change the name)

He then sees some guy, who looks small and innocent. You had h/l and beautiful, most dazzling e/c. His s/c looked smooth and soft like a freshly made bed. (?)

He looked to be Y/a. You looked so ethereal, a walking sex god. The source of men's sexual desire. He was so sexy and hot- 'Wait- what am I thinking? I'm not gay- I have a beautiful girlfriend, I need to stop thinking like this.'

Henry sees you approach me. "Hi! I'm assuming your Henry right?" you questioned, tilting your head. "Y-yeah- I'm Henry! N-nice to m-meet you!" Henry sturred over my words.

'Shit, why am I nervous around him? What is he doing to me?' Henry then heard a little chuckle. 'His laugh- AAGGHH!'

"Well, nice to meet you, Henry, I'm M/N!" you gave your hand out, Henry hesitantly shook it. 'His hands are rough and large!' you thought.

(Sorry, but I'll be using M/N.)

'His hands are so soft, like a baby's skin! I just wanna hold it forever-' Henry said to himself before pulling back. He didn't realize he had a rough grip on your hand.

"Ah- sorry about that," Henry said scratching his head out of embarrassment. "It's okay!" you gave your famous smile. Henry blushed.

'Why is this happening?! What is he doing to me!' Henry's mind was going all over the place, he was having a gay panic. 'What's wrong with this guy? I thought he was supposed to be calm and collected?'

You had no idea what was going on with him. "Well- I gotta go..." you said, backing away slowly before going to someone and starting a conversation with them. Hoping it won't be as awkward or weird

Henry just stared as you walked. He didn't notice that his hands were twitching. You could feel his stare piercing through your head. Such a dark and dominant stare.

'Maybe, he's just staring at something that so happens to be in my direction!' you said to yourself.

(No you dumb shit!)

"OKAY! Everyone, we're gonna be starting soon. Everyone to your stations and gets ready!" The director yelled. "Take M/N and Henry to their dressing rooms."

"Okay, sir. Come on!" They grabbed you and Henry to get dressed and ready.

They put on Henry's iconic Superman suit and they dressed you as Lois or the male equivalent of her. You looked at Henry and blushed a little. 'If I wasn't married to my husband, I would've gone for him. But he's straight.'

You looked away so Henry wouldn't notice but he did. 'He was blushing... AT ME- STOP IT!' Henry then glared at you. You noticed his glare and looked away. He didn't mean to glare.

"Okay, everyone get to your positions! Do you two know your lines?" The director asks looking back and forth. You both nodded your heads. "Okay, go on the scene and be ready!"

Once you both got there and got in position, the director yells, "ACTION!"

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TIMESKIP (END OF THE SCENE)

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(I don't know what they be doing at the studio.)

"Hey- Uh... M/n!" Henry called out. You turned to face Henry, "Mh?" Henry looked at you trying to get the words out. "Uh... You have something to say?"

"Uh- well." Henry scratching his head. "I'm sorry... for glaring at you earlier today." He was now blushing hard while grinning.

You looked at him confused about what he was talking about. Then you remembered earlier. "Oh-, Its okay Henry! I know you didn't mean it." you smiled at him, reassuring him that it was okay.

You were about to continue, but you got a call. You looked at the caller ID. "Hubby😘" is calling, your husband was calling. "I got to take this call." you then walked away to a private location.

Henry was curious so he followed you. He knows this is eavesdropping, but he wants to know, "what was so important about a phone call?"

Apparently, he took too long but he heard this. "I love you too." Henry left before you could spot him. 'He loves someone? Why do I care if he is in love with someone?'

"I'm gonna have to go! Bye Henry!" You then left leaving Henry behind to think about what was happening.

'What are you doing to me M/n? I never felt this way before.'

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TIMESKIP (6 months)

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You and Henry have been acquaintances for 6 months. Henry's feelings for you grew and grew but there wasn't that ultimate trigger that would finally set the bomb off.

Until now and later on today. (so two ultimate triggers.)

You wrapped your arms around Clark's neck. You were shorter than, so all you saw was his muscular chest. Clark then wrapped his arms around your waist, looking into your beautiful e/c.

Alarms were going off in Henry's mind as he pulls you closer to him. 'This is actually happening.' M/n smells so nice like fresh lavenders.

Your lips then met Clarks. You tilted your head a little to the side to have better access. Though his nose was kind of in the way. You closed your eyes as you fully gave in.

'He tastes so sweet like chocolate and strawberries.' (You eating my children?) Henry was getting real intimate with the kiss.

(Was that a good kissing scene? I have never seen the TV show)

"CUT!" you pulled back before walking away to get a drink. Henry was still in a daze. Your lips were so soft and delicious, he wants more. Henry never felt like this when kissed his girlfriend.

In fact, he was getting disgusted by her touch and only wants you to touch him. Hell, sometimes you made him hard and he would imagine having sex with you while having sex with her...

He was about to approach you before he heard that... voice. "BABE!" his girlfriend... Henry then felt two arms wrapped around him and a small kiss on his lips.

Henry felt like he wanna puke. It wasn't like the kiss he had with you- even though it was just acting but it was real to him- but he had to act like he enjoyed it. "HI! You must be Henry's wife, right?"

You intervene in their conversation. "Yes, I'm Henry's wife- well girlfriend! My name is Natalie Viscuso! You must be M/n? I'm a big fan of you!"

You and Natalie kept talking and getting along. Henry was just watching, he was getting angry and jealous. After about 30 minutes, Natalie went back to Henry.

"Sorry about that, I got carried away. How about me and you have some fun when we get home?" Henry just nodded his head without giving an expression.

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TIMESKIP (5 hours later. At Henry's home)

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(I know that Henry's real-life GF/Wife is a good lady. Remember, this is fiction)

"A-ahh! H-henry... you f-feel so good! Y-your... dick is... s-so BIG!" Natalie moaned as she rode Henry's cock.

Henry didn't seem to enjoy it, not one bit. He pushed- not too hard - Natalie off of him. "Why did you stop?" she said confused, Henry was getting dressed.

Henry didn't pay attention to her and just walked out.

The next morning, the news of Henry's and Natalie's break up spread like wildfire. Nobody understood why he broke up with her, they were doing just fine.

Henry didn't feel upset. While walking around last night, he began to think how you made him feel feelings he has never felt before.

He likes how you touch him- even though you didn't mean to. He likes your soft lips- even though you two were acting. He feels disgusted whenever he was with Natalie. Angry and jealousy surge through his veins whenever you talked with someone that wasn't him.

Henry now accepted that he likes you.

When you got the news of them breaking up, you were shocked. "Henry are you okay? I heard you and Natalie broke up," you asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Henry replied, nonchalantly. "You don't seem upset about it..." Henry just stared at you with his deep, dark eyes. 'What's wrong with him?'

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TIMESKIP (3 MONTHS)

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You've been waiting months to tell Henry something very important. You were nervous, scared, and... paranoid.

During the 3 months of waiting, you feel like you were being watched. Wherever you gom even in your own room.

You told Henry about it -since he was a close friend- and he told you not to worry about it saying, "You're just paranoid, it something you shouldn't worry about."

But you still kept your guard up. You made to look around and if you see someone looking suspicious. But tomorrow, you were going to come out to him.

You arrived at a... Dunkin Donuts (?) and ordered some donuts and coffee and took a seat by the window. You looked out to see some people walking by. There was a car that had black tinted windows, you couldn't see who was inside.

You pulled your phone to text Henry to come and talk with him. But that wasn't necessary, Henry walked and turned in your direction. "Hey, M/n!"

'How did he know I was here? Or was it a coincidence?' you thought. Then you felt a rough hand on your shoulder. "Mind if I sit here?" you shake your head.

Henry took his seat and ordered some food and coffee. 'It's too crowded here.' While seating there, you could feel stares and glances. You just ignored them.

Henry stared at you with love in his eyes, taking in all your features. Then he notices something on your finger, 'Is that a ring? IS HE ENGAGED? Or..... is he MARRIED!'

Rage was running through his veins but he had to calm himself down or you'll notice.

You had enough of his staring and break the silence. "I need to tell you something but it can't be here." that snapped Henry out of his daze. "What do you need to about?"

"It's something personal and it can't be here." You said getting up, and stressing your muscles, and heading out the door. Henry nodded his head before getting up and following you out.

As you two were walking, just taking in the fresh air and sounds of cars driving by. "So, what did you want to talk about?" Henry turned to you.

"Well... I hope you don't look at me differently..." you said looking down at the ground. "I'll never look at you differently bab- M/n."

You took a deep breath. "I'm trans..." you said quietly but Henry still heard you. "Oh... just because you're trans doesn't change what I see in you. You're still a man," Henry said putting his hand on your shoulder.

You smiled at him before jumping onto him. Henry wrapped his arms around you. He wanted to stay like this forever, you just in his arms feeling your warm, heat against him.

But sadly, you pulled away. "Thank you! Thank you!" you're glad Henry accepted you.

But Henry knew you were trans. Remember how you feel like you were being watched? Well, that was all Henry, he would watch you play with yourself. He would masturbate to this, he was quite turned on about this discovery.

'I'll accept whoever you are baby.'

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TIMESKIP (1 week)

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It's been one week since the whole coming out thing and Henry was gathering the confidence to ask you out. But today is the day.

Henry got a text saying, "Meet me at the park." so naturally he did. He didn't spot you at first until he recognizes your h/c. Then it's at that time he notices someone else there.

This bastard had his arms wrapped around you, and he gave small kisses on your lips. Henry's right eye twitched as he watched the display right in front of him.

'Who the hell is he?!? Is HE the one that M/n married?' he snapped out of it when you called his name to come over.

"I'm glad you came Henry! This is my husband, Tyler Hoechlin. Tyler, this is Henry, one of my friends!" you said with a smile. 'So, that means his name is M/n Hoechlin.'

Tyler gave his hand out and Henry shook it. Henry had a rough grip on his hand, squeezing it. And he just glared at him. "Well, let's go!"

Henry just glared at Tyler the whole time. 'M/N should ONLY have my last name! I should be the one with him!' Tyler notices how Henry was glaring at him the whole time. But he wasn't fazed by it.

'I'm gonna find a way to get rid of you! Or I could just take M/n?'

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TIMESKIP (3 DAYS)

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It had been 3 days since Henry met your husband, and he wasn't happy at all. Today he wants to hang out with you, and talk about something. Henry called your phone and waited for you to pick it up.

Meanwhile... (This is my first shot at writing smut with TMR.)

"A-ahh! d-daddy... your c-cock... is so... b-big!" you moaned as rode Tyler like your life depended on it. "Fuck, you're so wet and warm for me, M/n. Your tight little pussy feels amazing!" Tyler groaned as he thrust further into you.

Tyler sees that your phone is vibrating, 'Henry?' Tyler smirked, he knew that Henry was glaring at him with hate and stared at you with love. 'This will teach him who my baby boy belongs to.'

"Be a good boy for daddy and answer the phone." Tyler handed you the phone, you took a look at the caller and noticed it was Henry calling. "D-daddy... I-i can't do... it with y-you- thrusting... i-into me!"

Tyler stopped his thrusts but as you answered his call, he thrust right back into you. "A-ah!"

"Hey, M/n! Are you okay?" Henry questioned. "Y-yeah... I'm okay..." Tyler stopped thrusting, you could his cock pulsing and twitching inside you.

"You're little pussy is wet for me. You like it when I rub you here?" Tyler then began to rub your small dick. You tried to not moan out loud.

But Henry could tell, that you were moaning. And he was angry and just hanged up. "H-hello?... I think he... h-hung up." "Now, I can fuck you!" And he went back to banging you.

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TIMESKIP (5 DAYS)

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5 days after the little event, Henry hasn't called you. You tried calling him and seeing what's wrong, but he never answered.

Tyler kept telling you to not worry about him. Meanwhile, Henry was just in his room masturbating to a picture of yours and mutters, "You belong to me... Tyler and your's relationship is fake! We kissed, we held each other, and so many other things."

The acting seems to make Henry delusional, cause he believed it was all real and that you meant it. He has to find a way to make you his and he just how to do it.

There was a party coming up. You and Tyler would both be attending.

You and Tyler both arrived at the party. People were drinking, dancing, and doing other weird things. "I'm gonna go get a drink." Tyler nodded his head.

He went over to a table and sat down. Tyler wasn't the type to get a drink. Meanwhile, Henry kept his eyes on you. 'This is going to be a fun night!' You thought.

But this will turn out to be the worst night you'll ever have.

Had a few drinks, you were trying to find Tyler in the crowd but couldn't find him. You didn't feel the vibration in your phone, "I'll be waiting for you in the car."

As you were walking around, you felt yourself being pushed up against a wall. "Oh... *HIc* T-Tyler... I didn't *Hic* know you could be *Hic* this rough."

Henry pinned you against the wall and crash his lips against yours. Sweet but tasted like alcohol. 'Since when did Tyler become all muscular' Then you felt a needle pierce through your neck and injecting you with some kind of drug.

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TIMESKIP (After the party.)

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You woke up with a massive headache. Your mind is still blurry but after a few moments later you could see properly. You noticed a cup of water and headache pills by it. You took it.

Then, you realized, this isn't your room and that you were wearing a bunny outfit! 'What the fuck? Where am I?!' Then you began to feel hot and needy.

Your pussy was leaking and clenching around nothing. Your small dick was aching to be touched. "Is my little bunny awake?" A deep husky voice said.

You turned in its direction to notice that it was Henry?! But your mind was getting clouded with lust and want. "H-Henry...?"

"Shh, baby. Daddies here." Henry said getting closer to you and pulling you to his lap. Your hands were now on his shirtless chest, feeling his hairy pecs.

"Where's... T-Tyler?" you questioned, bad mistake. Henry smacked one of your cheeks. "DON'T EVER MENTION HIS NAME! YOU BELONG TO ME! FORGET ABOUT HIM!"

You were getting turned on. It must be the drug he gave you, cause you don't like it someone yells at you. "You're leaking so much slick? You want daddy to help you?"

Before you could respond, Henry pushed you down onto the couch and you could feel his meaty cock at your front entrance. "Your little pussy is leaking so much, you don't know how much you turn me on."

Henry lubes his cock with your slick before pushing in. "F-fuck! You're so tight! I guess Tyler didn't fuck you that good." Henry groaned as he pushed all the way in you.

He let you adjust a little before thrusting back into you. "You're so wet, tight, and warm. Better than my ex!" Henry groaned as he feels you tightening around him.

His hand then went down to stroke your cock. "A-ah!" you moaned as you tried to turn your face away. "You're close? Me too!" you could feel Henry thrust into your womb.

He was hitting your pleasure spot tip-on. "M-mmhh!" Your body clenched before convulsing beneath him. Your muscles twitched around his cock.

"Fuck, you came! I'm close! You'll look so beautiful swollen with my kids. The thought of spending the rest of my life with you just makes me wanna cum!"

You could feel his cock burst inside you. Feeling you up with his cum. "Get pregnant from this!" He stayed inside you before collapsing onto your smaller body.

He was leaving love marks. "You belong to me now, M/n..."

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

TIMESKIP (DECADE LATER)

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

It has been a decade since you were taken away. A decade being with a monster- who you looked up to before. He had taken you away from others.

You were in the kitchen cooking some waiting for him to come home. "PAPA! When is daddy coming home?" your oldest child said playing with his lego spaceship.

"He'll be home soon. How about go play with your siblings?" they nodded their head before heading to their room. You gave birth to Henry's children, when you had O/C/N, you promised that you'll take them far away from this monster.

You looked at the ring. It was no longer Tyler's ring but Henry's. Just as you said Henry, two strong muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

"How is my beautiful husband doing?" you tried pushing him away but it didn't work.

"Just accept it, M/n. You'll never escape me, and you don't want anything bad to happen to your- no- OUR kids? Right?" tears began to pour out your eyes.

"No. Please don't hurt them... they're just kids, they did nothing wrong." you cried trying to not alarm them.

"Then just accept your fate. You've been resisting for 10 years, it's no use. No one will ever find you." Henry whispered into your ear.

"Just accept it."

THE END

«⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕»

A/N: I hope this was good! I'm sorry if anything is incorrect. Do you like my new format? Anyways, bye my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

[anigerrrr]

Just a friend from work

Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers

Word count: 1.5k

Summary:  Natasha doesn’t think that she’s dating the blonde woman, and they certainly shouldn’t as well. It’s not professional.

Warning: Protective Yelena, sister conversations, Captain’s bad acting 

(please let me know if there’s any I should add as well)

a/n: Hello! This is my first fanfic written in English for carolnat, and I just love them so much. English is not my mother language so please ignore my grammatical errors lol ! Please do comment if you have any thoughts or questions!

/

“So, how old is he?”

“Who?”

“That guy you’re dating.”

When Yelena started it - whatever it is, the redhead immediately made a full stop for this upcoming conversation.

“No,” Natasha said, half jaded from today’s mission. “Yelena, I already said that we are not gonna talk about this. Not now.”

“Excuse me, you almost got caught in the middle of the frickin’ building just for replying to someone's text.” Her sister’s brown eyes widened in disbelief, “and as your partner, little sister plus, I think I have a full right to know what’s happening.”

Ok, after all of the universal matters. The Snap, The Blip, The Endgame and The Reunion. Natasha let out a sigh. This world may be peaceful enough - almost too peaceful, for her younger sister to dig into her personal life now.

“It was something important from the HQ, ” she finally made something up, trying to convince Yelena. “Some information. Not anyone I’m dating, and I’m not seeing any single guy either.”

This part was sort of a truth.

Natasha wasn’t seeing a guy.

/ Coming back to earth in an hour. - C. /

That’s the reason she punched the bad guys in extra strength today, almost ruining Yelena’s nose as well in some kind of jump-scare situation. Well, Natasha just needed to end this mission. Efficiently. 

She’s expecting a woman with glowing fists.

“You may be the top assassin with excellent lying skills, but you know it’s useless to me.” Yelena teased in a raspy Russian accent, as if she just couldn’t let go of it. 

“I’ll take the compliment.”

“And does that mean you’re actually lying to me?”

Natasha smirked, taking off her suit as she replied to the blonde. “You’re less annoying when you’re still a little girl.”

She tried to pretend nothing actually happened in this present, and that’s what she should do for sure. She’s still an Avenger, reborn in the mysterious deal between Captain Marvel and the Soul Stone keeper after the war. 

Carol was there, shining like stars in the darkest underground. Vormir was a place of exchange, a place where only sacrifice made deals. But when it was about Carol, nothing seemed impossible to make a miracle in her hands. 

-It was easy, you know. I just asked him to return what we had left in that shit place.

-Yeah, I asked him nicely. See this smile? That’s how I got Nat back.

No one believed this story. It didn’t matter anyway, especially when these avengers witnessed Natasha taken back by Carol without any visible injuries.

Maybe just like how she found Tony and took him back at an unbelievable speed, there’s something always mysterious with Carol.

They supposed. 

“If you’re taking good care of yourself as Fanny is, I wouldn’t have asked.” Yelena rolled her eyes, and suddenly she saw something unusual on her sister’s back.

“Wait, Natasha. What is that?” As Yelena leaned closer, she narrowed her brown eyes to observe the unusual mark left on Natasha’s back. “It looks like a bite. Oh my God, are you turning into a vampire or something? “

She realized that maybe Yelena didn’t know what love marks were. As far as she knew, her younger sister hadn’t dated anyone since the collapse of the red room. 

“There’s no bite, Yelena. You’re exaggerating, it’s probably just a scratch from the fight.” Natasha pulled down her black tank top, adding an extra leather jacket she didn’t usually wear.

There’s a bite. 

And it took all her efforts to stay impeccable in front of her sister every time she felt it burning silently, especially after taking a shower or punching someone really hard. 

Carol did that. 

“Alright then, time for dinner?” Yelena shrugged, putting her oversized hoodie on. 

“Yeah, sure.” Natasha didn’t catch the full sentence from her partner-sister honestly, she focused more on the communicator that she’s been carrying all the time.

“Speaking of that…Mom - I mean, Melina. Anyway, she asked if we’d be free to show up for dinner next week.” Yelena said, pulling out her phone from the pocket as well. “I think Friday will be good, how do you think?”

/ Let’s catch up in the compound later, I need to take a really quick shower. - C. /

“Yeah, that’d be amazing…wait, what?” Natasha raised her head up and seized the blonde’s eyes, “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

/ In case you wanna know, I look like a total mess in purple blood now. They didn’t even act like living spices, what a day. - C. /

Natasha stopped, and smiled a bit for imagining the blonde woman’s messy look now. 

She didn’t reply a single word to these texts, but it kept coming up. It’s just like Carol knew that she’d always read them as soon as they were delivered. 

“Ok, that’s rude.” And her sister finally couldn’t take it any longer. “Admit it, Natasha. You’re apparently disturbed by someone that you don’t wanna tell me, why is that?”

Then, Natasha realized that Yelena was still standing in front of her the whole time. She didn’t pay attention to anything this young woman said about free or show. Or dinner. 

Fantastic.

“I’m dealing with something important,” walking together out of their changing room, Natasha answered softly. She’s hiding her vague feelings of guilt. “- from work.”

“Natasha, we’re working together.” 

“Ugh, that’s different. That’s…” As Natasha tried to come up with something more persuasive, her younger sister stopped and nodded to someone.

“Oh, hey.” Yelena took a step back, and she seemed a little nervous. “Cap, we didn’t know you’re coming back today.”

When Natasha met the other blonde woman’s eyes, she found Carol’s hair still dripping. Ok, that’s definitely how a quick shower should be called.

“I left a message to Agent Romanoff.” Carol showed her audacity in acting surprised just right in front of the perfectly trained assassins. “Oh Romanoff, I was looking for you. Lucky me.”

“The mission I mentioned last night, remember that? It went a little bit wrong now.”

To Natasha’s surprise, her sister showed concern on her profile. “Is everything alright?”

Wait, Yelena could tell if she’s lying easily but actually believed in Carol’s almost-too-obvious acting?

“It will be,” Carol smiled back, taking a step in to pat Natasha’s left shoulder. “I just need to borrow your sister for a few minutes - hours, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, that’s fine. She’s not actually paying attention to me anyway.” Yelena raised her eyebrow, adding a friendly suggestion to her Captain. “Just don’t let her suspicious friend bother her via texts during the mission.”

“Ha, that’s mature.” Natasha couldn’t help but roll her eyes back again, she knew Carol was trying to not let out a laugh. This woman is literally shining right now.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Carol winked in a way that Natasha suspected she'd done this a thousand times. 

“See you later then, young lady.”

When they left the compound, Natasha shut the door of the training room and almost hit the blonde’s pretty nose.

“Are you fucking serious?” Natasha said as soon as there’s no one else between them. 

“You are wearing my jacket.” Carol just smirked happily, admiring how well it fit the redhead. “It looks cute on you, just keep it for me. Will you?”

Something did go wrong, between these two deadly women.

Any one in the galaxy would say it's very hard for Carol to stay in one place for a long time. But she did, she stayed on earth for almost a week, once a month. 

And any one in the Avengers’ HQ would say it’s very hard for Natasha to be disturbed by anything or anyone. Even so, she would not show it on her expression even a tiny bit.

That’s just not her thing.

Like dating someone, or texting someone back. Or admit that she’s caring for the blonde ones, not just her younger sister. 

But they did have sex (well it was amazing), twice. Ugh, maybe three times, if the very first time on Carol’s spaceship counted. 

That’s all, it's a healthy relationship between adults. 

It sounds professional.

“You should stop texting me while we’re at working hours.” Natasha sighed. 

“Wait,” Carol chuckled, her hair color looked darker when it’s wet. “Do we actually have ‘working hours’ in this job? I mean, when is it not ?”

“When we’re not on a mission.”

“But how do I know- ”

“You’re the Captain, Carol.”

“Oh,” Carol finally agreed with a small smile. “That makes sense.”

Every time. Natasha looked at her and thought. Every time she called her name, not Danvers or Captain, just Carol. The smile just came up like that, like nothing else in this world was more delightful than hearing Natasha say her five-letters name.

It’s silly, unprofessional.

But Natasha did that, once in a while.

“So,” Carol tilted her head slightly, and acted that she’s way more harmless than having power to blast spaceships in a single fist. “What’s the plan for dinner?”

“You’re gonna stay that much longer, Captain?” Natasha teased when she finally felt something was in control, by her. Carol’s thoughts were easy to be studied, or at least she gave in for her.

Carol hummed in a way that Natasha could tell she’s triggered, and dragged her leather jacket’s collar to lean in.

“Depends on what you’re offering me to eat, ma’am.”

[masterthespianduchovny]

I’m going to be honest before I get to the Sam/Rebecca subplot: if they drop plots threads indicating that this continue into the next season and uplift this pairing, I’m out.

This storyline is gross and I can see why some people quit the show when the revealed happened.

When I say I’m repulsed by age gap relationships of this nature, this isn’t a shipping thing or a race thing. This is a moral and ethical thing. Because it’s not just an age gap, it’s also that Rebecca is Sam’s boss. I legitimately don’t see how people can overlook this and ship how “cute” this is. I’m not judging anyone, it just genuinely doesn’t make sense to me.

And for people who think I’m a hypocrite, Ted/Rebecca is not the same. Sam and Rebecca is like a principal dating a student. If you want to age Sam up, because people love to accuse others of infantilizing Sam, it’s like the president of a college dating a student. In both cases, there would be backlash, and have been, to these types of relationships.

Which would make Ted’s position that of a teacher/professor or someone higher. In most cases, there aren’t objections, however, both parties have to be transparent about their relationship and careful about how and if that influences their professional relationship with each other and others.

Last week, I mentioned a friend of mine who was 18 and dated someone who was 28. Both are white for reference. When I found out their ages and respective positions, I became concerned and doubly concerned.

Oh, they had chemistry and he made her so happy, but he was also controlling as fuck and emotionally abusive. During the duration of their relationship, he became her boss and would monitor her interactions via cameras in the back office. She was stressed out as fuck and would go to the bathroom to cry. You know, where cameras weren’t and where he couldn’t enter.

And it was a secret relationship because he could get in trouble. I didn’t say anything because she was with her boyfriend before she knew me. Me telling someone could’ve gotten him in trouble or fired, but that wouldn’t have ended the relationship. It would’ve made her end our friendship and cling closer to him. Instead, after I quit for other reasons, I sporadically checked on her to see how she was doing and give her advice and resources.

As far as the actual episode itself goes, I struggled to enjoy it due to the Sam/Rebecca situation. It should’ve ended at dinner at most.

The only emotional beat that landed, imo, was Jamie and Roy’s hug. I do think Ted’s confession was strong, but the flow was kinda weird for me. By itself it works.

Two things working for me that wasn’t at the forefront of the episode was 1. How Ted’s problem is fucking over the team. 2. That Nate is in over his head.

Even if AFC Richmond had lost with Ted being in his A game, it wouldn’t have been that made and the team would’ve been more competitive. They were sloppy and making baffling errors. Their head was not in the game and it showed. Man City wasn’t that good, Richmond was just that ill prepared.

And who led training?

Nate.

Nate has great instincts, but he isn’t ready to lead a team and he still has a lot of work to do before growing into coaching a team as head coach.

But let me stress, this falls completely on Ted and even Beard to an extent. Yes, Ted is having emotional issues, however, many people rely on him and he wasn’t there. I don’t mean literally because teams should be able to function without their head coach for stretches of time. He hasn’t been there mentally and emotionally for most of the season. Because AFC Richmond’s competition isn’t as premier as Man City, it’s easier to appear more dominant that you are, esp if you’re coach isn’t on his A game. However, when you’re up against actual Goliath’s in the league, you’ll get your ass handed to you like Richmond did.

As I mentioned earlier, if they do go through with supporting and uplifting Sam/Rebecca, my time with this fandom ends with the season 2 finale.

But if we take Ted’s dark forest into consideration, there is another way this could play out. Actually many.

The one I can see happening that can get her somewhat redeemed, because some will never get over this happening in the first place, is her hitting rock bottom via her relationship with Sam. Something will happen or make her have unflattering thoughts about herself and her actions that will drive her into a tailspin.

And I’m unsure if it’ll be just a personal crisis or if it’ll also be a professional crisis.

Some may disagree with me, but I do want this affair to come to light. Because if it doesn’t, it sets up this fucked up precedent that Rebecca can do fucked up shit and get away with it in private.

Rebecca fucked over her club, uprooted a man’s life in bad faith, and almost ruined several people’s careers due to her bullshit in the first season. The fact that she didn’t have to answer for any of this is a God damn mercy on Ted’s part even though she didn’t ask for it.

Now for her to date/fuck a player because “she just has to know.” Because she doesn’t want to let something pass her by?

Yeah…no.

Rebecca’s fear of loneliness is leading her to make very bad decisions and I fear what this means for Sam’s career and relationships if this breaks. There were people who allegedly care for Sam, yet cheered for this relationship to happen. What do you think happens with his locker room relationships? I’ve already explained in another post that either this sours those relationships OR they want favors from him because he’s dating/fucking the boss.

He’ll get crucified in the media. He may even have trouble getting employed. Why? Because that’s how racism works.

“But, masterthespianduchovny, if Sam may receive hate and racist acts committed against him, why do you want the affair exposed?”

Because this shit show of a relationship isn’t about just Sam. It’s about Rebecca’s fear of loneliness leading her to make bad decisions that effects everyone not just her and Sam. It’s the fact that a white woman isn’t thinking about how her actions could have major consequences for a young black man.

Rebecca is so obsessed with not being lonely and being loved that 1. She never sought help or productive ways to deal with the fall out and humiliation of her marriage. 2. She dated a man because he was “fine” and not because she was actually invested in him and the relationship 3. She’s getting involved with a player on her team without thinking of any of the consequences. 4. She’s not considering the other players, the coaches, or anyone else she’s responsible for.

Oh, and considering we got that call from Sam’s dad…his relationship with his father will most likely suffer as a result. AND now that Dubai Air thing looks suspect, esp because she was talking to him around that time unknowingly.

Oop! And isn’t she getting her relationship with Nora back on track? Even though Nora and Sam can’t legally date and I’m not saying every decision should be swayed by a teenage girl, however, Rebecca is literally sabotaging every relationship just because she’s afraid of being alone (I agree with another poster who said we really didn’t need to explore this storyline, but alas…)

Although Ted forgave Rebecca for her scheming in season one, I honestly don’t think he’d be so forgiving for this. It’s his job to protect players and look out for their well being and how can he one his boss is involved with one of his players, which again, affects others players. This relationship has major consequences for other people who are not in it.

Also, Sam…for someone who people love to say is mature enough to date an older woman, not once did even be consider the ramifications of getting involved with the boss.

Not once.

And that looks bad because a mature person his age would be mindful of such a thing. This isn’t considered or, at least, isn’t said onscreen. Sam os either thinking with his dick, his heart, or both, but he isn’t thinking with his head. Because there is no way you’re thinking with your head and don’t stop to say, “hey, this thing could jeopardize my relationship with my teammates and the other people I work with. Maybe I should think some more of this before pursuing a relationship with my boss.” Sam was all in from the moment he decided he wanted to have dinner with Rebecca. There was no thinking on his end.

But Sam’s super mature, right?

Another poster mentioned that there might be a screaming match between Rebecca and ted and I’m so here for that. No, I don’t think this argument will be romantic. They’ll have legitimate gripes with each other, but yeah…this is an argument that needs to happen. Which will most likely be before Rebecca gets help.

That’s all assuming this happens. Like I said, they could have Sam and Rebecca being a power couple (🤮), or handle this some other way. But if this is going to be framed as a good thing, others can enjoy it, but the show will have one less viewer from me.

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[bat-burrito]

Elder Gremlin

Bit of crack for @cruelfeline and @soranis-sunshadow, who want nothing more than for Entrapta to be older than Hordak, and by God, they deserve to have it. 

Prrrrobably a bit OOC, but just roll with it!

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

Hordak was busy reprogramming one of the drones previously belonging to Horde Prime when Entrapta plopped herself on his desk, legs crossed and leaning back. He turned his gaze to her without hesitation, giving her a warm smile. “Hello, dear,” he said as he took in her expression. She was grinning at him with dancing eyes and practically vibrating with energy. It was infectious and he felt his own smile widen, choosing to put down his tools to show her that she had his full attention. 

“Guess. What. I. FOUND!!” She waved a piece of paper in the air with unbridled excitement. 

Entrapta did not give him the opportunity to guess. She thrust the paper at Hordak, who took it from her as she gripped the edge of the desk, as though her joy would lift her off the ground. Hordak quickly scanned it, but failed to see what the cause for Entrapta’s excitement was about. “Apologies Entrapta, but I do not believe I understand the significance. This is a clone decanting log; we have seen many of these.” The two of them, along with the archer boy and a team of interested volunteers from the Etherian guilds of Makers and Science, had spent many weeks salvaging Horde Prime’s equipment and data after the war was won. The logs were nothing new.

“But this one is special! It includes your decanting date!” Entrapta jabbed at a line of text on the paper with her hair, nearly puncturing the page in her enthusiasm. “We finally know your birthday! Isn’t it amazing?” She had hopped off the desk by this point, unable to sit still, and had lifted herself up and upside down with her hair. 

Hordak read over the paper again for confirmation of her words, finding that it did indeed appear she was correct - not that he was surprised, she almost always was. While combing through data on the Velvet Glove, they had discovered despite Horde Prime’s insistence to keep his brothers completely unidentifiable as individuals, he had kept dated records of all batches of clones. 

“Well, I’m not sure which of these lines is you specifically,” Entrapta continued, now seated on her hair at Hordak’s eye-level, “but based on your memories, this is when your group of clones was born!” 

It was a process with errors, but once the Hive Mind had been disconnected, they had figured out they could hack into a clone’s repressed memories via their spinal ports - with consent, of course. Entrapta had discovered this to a degree during her time with Kadroh on Krytis. While they had a few volunteers, most of the clones were understandably not interested in having their memories restored in this manner. Entrapta had suggested that once the numbing effects of Prime’s amniotic fluid had worn off and the clones began to adjust to life outside the Hive Mind and received proper care, they could possibly start recalling their memories on their own. Hordak hoped that this was not the case. His brothers deserved new and better memories, and thankfully many Etherians were working with them to make this happen.

Entrapta was now laying on her stomach in her throne of hair, staring into Hordak’s red eyes. “And,” she continued, gently poking him affectionately on his nasal ridge, “guess what else!” 

“Do I get to guess this time, or would you like to just tell me again?” Hordak asked her with a teasing lilt, brushing a loose strand of his partner’s hair behind her ear.

“I’m older than you!” she squealed, squishing his cheeks with her hands.

Hordak barked out a laugh, looking at the paper in his hand once more. “I am certain you are mistaken.” 

She maneuvered behind him on her hair, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head against his cheek as she peered over his shoulder. “This is definitely your batch, and I am definitely older than you,” she insisted. “You were decanted roughly 3 weeks after I was born!” 

“This hardly counts! I emerged at full maturity, not as a pitiful little thing who could not support the weight of their own head.”  Hordak tried to sound serious, but couldn’t keep the amused tone out of his voice.

“Hmmm…” Entrapta was perched in front of him again, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Do you think that drone is older than you too?”

Hordak rolled his eyes and turned back to his drone. “You are completely ridiculous, my dear,” he said, but his voice was rich with affection. 

“Hey now,” Entrapta frowned, voice suddenly serious as she lowered herself to the ground. Hordak turned back to her immediately, fearing she had taken offense. She wagged her finger at him as she approached, backing him up against the desk. “That is no way to speak to your elder, young man!” 

He scoffed, smirking down at her. “My apologies. Are you, in all your aged wisdom, planning to let me get back to work today?” 

“Okay, okay, fine,” she said with a sigh, “but one last question.”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you ever think you would end up with an older woman?” 

Hordak tried and failed miserably to mask a snort. “Are you quite done?”

“Not yet! You know,” she continued, “there’s actually a phrase for this! Some people would say I ‘robbed the cradle’. Or in this case, I suppose I robbed the vitrine.”

“My word,” Hordak chuckled, shaking his head at her with a bemused grin as he glanced up at the dimming sky through the rooflight they had installed. He was ready to admit defeat and let her claim this silly victory. “It will be dark soon,” he said, wrapping an arm around Entrapta’s waist. “I believe it’s around this time that senior citizens are meant to go to bed.” And with that, he tossed the delightfully cackling scientist over his shoulder and headed out the door. 

[letarasstuff]

Get-Along-Shirt

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and is based on this post. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it :)

Summary: The Hotchner-Siblings get their own ‘get-along-shirt’. What kind of chaos is going to happen?

Wordcount: 1.4k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

Some days Hotch asks himself why he and Haley thought it would be a good idea to have two children this close in age.

Just a few weeks prior (Y/N) turned 13 and it seems to the single father like it was the beginning to endless teasing, arguing and fighting between her and her one year older brother. Without a fail they constantly clash against each other and drive the other one up the wall. Hotch swears he grew more grey hairs in the past two weeks than in the years prior.

“I tell you one more time, Jack Hotchner, and if you once again choose to ignore my advice I’ll get up tomorrow morning and choose violence. Do. Not. Touch. My. LABELLED. Food. OR I’LL CUT OFF ALL YOUR FINGERS AFTER PULLING OUT ONE NAIL AFTER ANOTHER. DO YOU UNDERSTAN-” “(Y/N) Hotchner”, Aaron cuts her off, “If you continue screaming like that your eaten meal is the least of your problems.”

Huffing the teenagers drops the sentence and sits down on the couch in the living room with her arms crossed over her chest. Jack looks at her and sticks out his tongue. “Wow Big Brother, didn’t pick you out to be that mature.”

“At least I’m not the one, who gets bitchy about food”, he responds. “Well, because you had food that was not yours an you aren’t bitchy, because you are not hungry”, she retorts. “I’m not the one, who gets craz-”

Suddenly Hotch groans. “You know what. I am done. You two stress me more than a hostage situation with a psychotic alpha male.” Then he gets up and leaves the room. Confused the siblings look at each other until their father comes back.

“This is your ‘get-along-shirt’ and I want you two to wear it together till it’s time for you to go to bed. No cheating, no fighting. You learn to get along in it.” With that the father tosses them a monstrous big white shirt with the words written in black Sharpie across the chest area. Unwillingly they slip it on, knowing better than to argue with him in his pissed state.

The rest of the evening goes relatively well considering Jack and (Y/N) were pressed to each other and only have one arm they can use. This is until they go up the stairs to their rooms.

“Jack, when you use your left leg I have to step on my right. It is that easy!” “No”, he declines, “It’s the opposite. When I go left, you go left. Think (Y/N), think!” It is a trial and error for straight five minutes, which Hotch watches amused. This is better than the evening program on the tv.

But the fun doesn’t last long. After the two teenagers get halfway up the stairs, they suddenly lose their balance and roll the whole way down. Immediately the father is right by their side, but they both swim in the fabric.

Due to the closeness and sudden darkness (Y/N) begins to panic. In her frenzied state she thrashes and scratches around her to get out. When Hotch finally gets them out of the shirt he is able to calm her down. Then he assesses the damage that is done.

Jack has several scratches and bite marks, left by his younger sister in her panic. She on the other side cradles her left arm and looks like she is close to crying. “What is it, Honey?” Aaron asks as he sees the state she is in.

The boy looks worried over to her, giving her a run down with his eyes. “My arm, I heard it snap I think. It really hurts.”

And so the Hotchner family find themselves in the ER at 12 in the night. A nurse gives (Y/N) painkillers at first, but they have to wait for their turn due to it being very busy on a Wednesday.

The whole time the older brother hovers over his sister, asking her if she needs something to drink or eat every ten minutes. As they are nearing 2 am on the clock he lets her curl up on his lap to get some sleep (the painkillers make her a bit drowsy) while watching her like a hawk. Or mother hen, choose your own take.

A doctor looks over her fracture at 3 am. Then she gets sent to get her x-rays at 4. At 5.30 am the teenager gets a cast in her favorite color. Jack, Aaron and (Y/N) are finally able to leave the ER at precisely 6 in the morning.

Now one can assume that the father has the mercy to take the day off and let his kids stay at home from school. But one assumes wrong.

“Ok, we are going to drive home, you are gonna change and get your backpacks and I bring you to school. After work I’m gonna pick both of you up, alright?” Both teenagers groan, but still know better than to argue with him, especially since they brought this upon themselves.

A quick change and wash later the three are back on track and right in front of the school. “(Y/N) if the pain gets too much go to the nurse and get her to call me at work, you understand me?” “Yes, sir”, she mockingly salutes and gives him a kiss on the cheek before stepping outside. Hotch holds Jack back.

“Watch after her. We both know that with that cast she is more likely to get herself hurt now than ever.” Jack nods confirmingly, remembering all the times his younger sister injured herself due to her clumsiness.

Not long after this he sits at his own desk at Quantico, rubbing his eyes and sighing constantly. The lack of sleep and the adrenalin crash from last night's event suddenly catch up to him. The team worriedly looks at him from the bullpen.

“He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks”, JJ remarks. Spencer glances at the Unit Chief. “Maybe he hasn’t slept. I mean he has two teenagers at home and a huge workload on his desk. I don’t wanna live with his sleep schedule, but I’m also a blinker.”

“Why don’t we ask him if he needs some help? I mean we can divide his paperwork between all of us and he can go home early”, Emily suggests. But Morgan laughs at this. “Prentiss, we know Hotch. He wouldn’t give us any more work voluntarily. You have to claw it out of his hands or get it over his dead body.” 

Penelope sighs. “I’m so sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve any of this. Did you hear the rumor that Strauss is again up his back? Can’t he get a breather?”

“You all are profilers for god’s sake.” Rossi mutters and climbs the stairs up to Hotch’s office.

“Hey, are you alright? I think you groaned more the last half hour than in your first two years here. What is it?” Dave takes a seat across from him. To his and the team’s surprise Aaron lets out a hearty laugh.

“You know how I told you that Jack and (Y/N) are arguing non stop? I took your idea and made them wear a ‘get-along-shirt’. This ended in a night at the ER, because (Y/N) broke her arm while falling off the stairs with Jack. But they both are fine and the shirt did its trick. Though I’m counting on getting a phone call in the next hour, so I’ll go get her and bring her here with a few heavy painkillers. She’ll be knocked out on my couch, so there won’t be any disturbances.”

Aaron continues to laugh every few minutes, whenever he thinks back to the angelic fall of his children, making the team worry even more. But they guess that a sleep deprived Aaron Hotchner is a less strict Aaron Hotchner and they aren’t going to complain. And like predicted, they get to see their favorite teenage girl less than an hour later, sporting a cast with many signatures.

It’s needless to say that they all fight each other off to be the first of them to sign it.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Introductions (AU; the government are introduced to the Emperor’s right hand man)

Emperor Palpatine sat at the helm of the table, his expensive ornate satin cloak pulled up to cover his deformed features. He had made a rare exception to the never appearing in public rule, if only to summon his little group of closely affiliated followers for a less than chummy supper. The Coruscant sun had already begun to set, its pinkish rays disappearing behind the skyscrapers visible from the large single viewport of the Emperor’s dining hall. Two months had passed since the fall of the Republic. Two months since the war came to an end, two months since the Jedi were declared traitors and executed en masse. Two months since Palpatine declared himself dictator, since his regulations had begun being pushed onto all known systems. Two months, and Governor Tarkin had thought himself to be lucky with his role.

A few faces, he recognized. Former admiral Wullf Yularen was a welcome addition despite being a bit below the required rank, fighting the just fight against outliers and naysayers. Orn Free Taa was a more unfortunate case (he had likely invited himself by flattery and empty promises), while Vizier Mas Amedda was an obvious presence. Sate Pestage, Janus Greejatus, Ars Dangor, Kren Blista-Vanee and Verge’s smug faces had Tarkin fighting the urge to roll his eyes at their insipid subservience. Artist Eveli Charis was, Tarkin figured, the most surprising member of the meeting - serving as the only female face of the small crowd. Her aside, and finance minister Gagh rounded off the gathering. 

These people were - each in different ways - the most influential people of the new Empire.

“I have not gathered you simply for the sake of sharing a dinner in the wake of our victory. Indeed, I have been wishing to relay to you my plans for the grand future of our Galaxy,” said Palpatine suddenly, his voice gravelly and his gnarly hands reminiscent of claws where they rested against the table cloth.

Tarkin thought he could see a pair of golden eyes gleaming beneath the shrouded darkness of Palpatine’s hood, but chalked it up to a trick of the light. Instead, he focused on the hand stitched embroidery of the Emperor’s burgundy robes. The man had always had an affinity for fancy dress.

“It is clear that you shall provide eyes and ears for me, and I trust you to fulfill your duties towards the Empire, and subsequently to me. However, I’m afraid I must offer you a small surprise.”

“Another, Your Highness?” Tarkin said with an amused smile, and he couldn’t help but feel triumphant when Palpatine let out a pleased cackle in response.

“I’m afraid so, Governor. Surely, you shall all take this little revelation in stride. Are we not in dire need of powerful allies?” he responded, gesturing with one clawed hand towards the Vizier who stood poised by the doorway.

On each side of the hydraulic sliding doors themselves, a royal guard clad in crimson stood at a patient salute. The Emperor’s personal bodyguards, their faces cloaked and hidden from view much like Palpatine himself. Their presence was an odd mixture of reassuring and oppressive, Tarkin had decided. But he saw no reason to fear them, given his own standing with the Emperor. If anything, he benefited from their presence as protectors.

“Will you reveal to us this secret, Your Highness?” asked Charis, her expression curious and incredulous at once.

“My child, have you not been taught the virtue of patience?” was Palpatine’s response; a thinly veiled insult that put her in her place, as she shrank back in shame and lowered her head in an obedient bow.

“Forgive me my insolence, Your Highness,” she offered, apologetic and the Emperor simply shrugged her words off.

“Think nothing of it. You are correct, it appears to me that I have unfairly omitted mentioning this to either of you. Alas, it is time I remedy this arrogance.”

Tarkin noted how the Emperor turned his head briefly, giving the Vizier a barely perceptible nod and the man stepped back. On cue, the guards uncrossed their electro-staffs and parted to the sides. Confusion seemed to overtake most of the party’s faces, as the doorway slid open with ease - only to reveal a man. Clad in black armour with red and silver accents; broad shouldered, tall and visibly disdainful towards his company. He stalked wordlessly up to Palpatine’s right hand side, where he lingered - gloved hands folded in front of his hips, legs wide apart. His eyes were glowing, an amber shade to their irises, a bloodshot sclera. The man’s face was scarred, rugged; and the only visible emotions seemed to be anger and resentment. One single dark blonde curl fell over his creased forehead.

But that wasn’t the oddity. Someone in the company - Tarkin suspected it to be Yularen, judging by the tone - gasped.

Indeed, it was difficult not to recognize the young man by the Emperor's side - the Emperor, whose features had twisted into a toothy grin. The man said nothing, taller than Tarkin remembered him. Something warped and cruel and twisted distorting his rather handsome features into something unrecognizable, all charm vanquished. He was pale, peering in distaste down at the dining party as if they were beneath him. It didn’t sit right with Tarkin, given that they all knew who he was and what his past profession up until about two months ago would have been.

Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker had joined them for supper.

“May I introduce to you Lord Vader,” said Palpatine, breaking the eerie silence. “Some of you may believe you are familiar with this man. I assure you, you are mistaken. The man whom you may recall is long gone. Lord Vader has seen the error of his ways, and accepted the Jedi traitors for what they are. He came to my aid during the assassination attempt ordered by master Windu.”

Tarkin listened closely, but he was not the only one who seemed unable to tear his gaze from Skywalk-- Vader’s stern features. He looked so much older than his age, as if he had seen a million lifetimes of suffering pass him by. His hollow eyes seemed haunted, but their inherent glow was more reminiscent of a predator locked in a cage. Simply biding his time, waiting for the opportune moment to pounce. Still, he made no move and did not utter a single word.

“Lord Vader has turned out to be, much like you, one of my most trusted advisors. He is my right hand man, and while I have neglected to provide him with an official rank - he outranks every single one of you. It is my belief that only he has the means to do what needs to be done,” the Emperor continued.

Yularen seemed to shift uneasily in his seat, his eyes wide and a blunt disbelief etched into his aging features.

“You wish to speak, Colonel?”

Tarkin heard himself say; wondering if they were the only ones present - apart from the Emperor himself - who had maintained some sort of personal relationship to the man Palpatine had renamed and retooled so viciously.

“No, Governor. I--” he began, but was immediately cut off by Palpatine.

“You are wondering how the man you knew as a Jedi could turn on his own kind, is that not so? You are surprised to see that his loyalty towards the Empire could outweigh his loyalty towards his kin. Am I correct, Colonel?”

Yularen seemed to pause a bit longer than required, but gave a curt nod as he found the voice to speak up.

“Yes, Your Highness. I am merely… surprised, as you put it,” he said as a manner of surrender.

“It is understandable that you would be shocked. Should you like to speak of your own decision, Lord Vader?” the Emperor drawled, his voice menacing and sing-songy at once as he gestured to offer Vader the opportunity to speak.

“No,” the young man simply said, standing so still that his lips barely even seemed to be moving; his gleaming eyes scanning each and every person present before it landed on Tarkin - the only man who’s amusement outweighed the concerns. “I believe my actions will speak for themselves, as will your evident trust in me, my master.”

The voice was a bit deeper and gruffer than Tarkin recalled it - but that could be maturity - but its monotone quality was new. Vader spoke as if the words held no meaning to him, as if whatever he said was pointless and a waste of breath. As if his words were unbefitting of anyone but the Emperor. Yet, at the same time, he was matter of fact and to the point. A quality Tarkin had enjoyed in the past, and one he presumed Yularen had as well.

“Oh, I implore you to amuse this unspoken inquiry, Lord Vader,” Palpatine pressed, and as much as it came off as if being in good faith, it was an obvious demand no loyal servant could ignore.

“As you wish, my master,” Vader simply obeyed, his burning eyes still holding Tarkin’s in a cold, disgruntled stare. “I was the single man to commandeer the troops as they marched on the Jedi temple. I surveyed the situation, and I made sure not a single soul present escaped their fate. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to serve my Emperor, and I will not be frowned upon by the likes of you.”

The last word was delivered with such pure, unbridled loathing that it seemed to lower the temperature of the room by several degrees by proxy of mere intent. Vader nonchalantly folded his arms over his chest, lips drawn into a thin line and the perpetual scowl of his forehead had already begun to carve out fine lines in their wake. Palpatine was still sneering, grimy teeth bared in a ferocious grin.

“As you can see, Lord Vader’s conviction is admirable and undeniable. He has proved himself worthy of my trust, and so, I expect you to follow my example accordingly. I expect you to show him the reverence he requires,” the Emperor concluded, that odd glow to Vader’s eyes mirrored by his as he briefly peered up from beneath his hood - this time, it could be no trick of the light.

“I trust your infallible judgment, Your Highness,” Tarkin finally said, being the first to accept the new norm. “I may not be completely assured of Lord Vader’s motives as of yet, but he shall gain my respect when he has proved himself worthy of it.”

“My friend, you need not fear. However, I understand your concerns, and I have no doubt that you will come around quite soon,” said Palpatine, and while there was malice to the tone, he was also unusually honest and benevolent.

Tarkin suspected that was entirely on him, and their long history as colleagues and friends. He nodded, glancing over at Vader whose eyes regarded him still. Their gaze was arduous, and heavy, and vile - but that seemed to be their natural state, rather than any personal vendetta.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” was Tarkin’s only reply, and he shot a defiant glare back at Vader. “You are much too gracious.”

“Will you cease your repulsive display?” Vader snapped, and while Tarkin at first almost expected Palpatine to defend him; he found that the Emperor seemed humored enough by the obvious insult to allow the man to finish his trail of thought. “The Emperor will offer you no favours based on your fawning. You embarrass yourself, Governor.”

“Now, now, Lord Vader. I believe such childish bickering belongs elsewhere,” he finally shushed, as Vader relented like an obedient school boy fearing punishment. “However, I must agree. It would serve you well to evolve your attempts at flattery into a less… tacky matter.”

That triggered a reaction from Vader, as one corner of his lips twitched briefly upwards in a mocking, superior half smirk. He said nothing, but the triumph in those golden eyes spoke for itself.

“Now, with this out of the way, I wish to return to the matters at hand - but there is one more thing I wish to clarify. Lord Vader will not tolerate any mentions of the man you might recall him to be. He is no longer the naive child of yesterday. There will be a penalty for such insolence - no matter whom it may derive from. Lord Vader is a reinvented man. You shall address him only as such, and by no other name. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” was the singular response - and a brief hint of delight, and perhaps relief, crossed Vader’s scornful face.

“Very good,” said the Emperor with a cackle.

__________

I am not generally a fan of suitless Vader, but this idea came to me and it kinda required that so I went with it for once. Enjoy!

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029582

[todoscript]

Syndicate —  [ 3 ]

parts: one | two | three

SUMMARY: The four of you arrive at Hatsume’s workshop, hoping to find some leads about the mysterious bullet you discovered in the aftermath of the scuffle against the Shie Hassaikai yakuza group.

genre: mafia au. pairing(s): mafiabosses!todobakudeku x fem!reader word count: 2.1k+ warnings: mature themes. mafia talk. crude language/cursing. future adult and violent scenes. polyamorous relationship. characters are aged-up. taglist: in reblogs. please ask if you would like to be included in the taglist for updates on future parts.

author’s note: oh my god, i am so sorry for the very long wait everyone! trying to crank this part out was a bit of a struggle with everything going on, but i’m glad it’s finally done! i initially planned to make this chapter a bit longer and continue on with some of the next section, but it made more sense to end it off here so the next part could be flushed out more on its own

Nothing but the grating sound of machinery sparking against each other fills the room the moment you walk into Hatsume’s workshop, located in the more uneventful parts of Tokyo, and away from the seeing eyes of the public. Your ears recoil at the noise; however, it is a cacophony of sounds you are used to, considering this is far from your first time here. Thus, it’s not so much a surprise, being greeted this way, though still jarring nonetheless.

Mei Hatsume is a woman who usually busies herself with work. Whenever she wasn’t occupied filling out a client’s order, such as creating the gadgets they requested necessary for certain heists, she was always active in coming up with new inventions—other gizmos to win people over. In turn, she managed to catch the three pairs of eyes that are responsible for overseeing the infamous Yuuei mafia. Before long, the syndicate had become one of her most frequent and loyal clients due to her high-quality skills and work ethic. 

Your three men are in tow behind you when you enter, following in not only your steps but your strained expression over the racket.

“Hatsume!” you shout out to try and capture the girl’s attention, being that her eyes are covered in her dense, protective goggles to even see the four of you coming.

Far too engrossed in her work, her nonchalant hums in between her buzzing equipment indicate that she isn’t going to notice you anytime soon. Knowing this, Bakugou grits his teeth out of annoyance and marches past you.

“Hey Goggle-Head!!”

Unsurprisingly, his yell is garishly loud and is enough to cut through the jarring grinding of the machines and reach Hatsume’s ear. Bakugou does prefer to take a strident approach to things after all. And today especially, he isn’t in the mood to wait around.

“Bakugou. That was unnecessary,” Todoroki says, side-eyeing his partner for his boisterous attitude.

“It was totally necessary, Icy-Hot,” the blonde retorts.

Hatsume soon stops what she’s doing and finally brings the noise to a halt. Lifting her bulky steampunk goggles from her eyes, she properly greets her guests.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite clients!” Her tone is welcoming and chipper, despite the somewhat rude awakening courtesy of the blonde. “What can I help the four of you with today? Perhaps in need of some more firepower for your men? Hmm?” Hatsume wiggles her brows—a crafty gesture she usually gives to entice her customers while flaunting some incredibly elaborate contraption of hers in her arms. Midoriya declines with a shake of his head, waving a hand out.

“No, we’re fine with all the equipment you’ve provided our group with so far, Hatsume. They’ve been working wonders for us,” he says kindly.

“Especially that earring from the other night.” You join in the praises, and Hatsume readily eats them up as her yellow eyes begin to sparkle.

“Ah, the teardrop earring, I presume? As expected, I knew that particular item would perform excellently, what with its compact size and design to elude suspicion, along with its vast set of features—”

“Come on, quit yapping already! We’re here for business, not to give our fucking reviews,” Bakugou dispels the girl’s incessant ramblings with his ill-tempered tone.

Todoroki steps forward, following in the blonde’s approach. “He’s right. Excuse us, Hatsume, but we wanted to ask you about something we encountered last night,” he explains, hand digging into his coat pocket to procure the ziploc bag containing their item of inquiry—the bullet.

Your hands glow magenta; your quirk lifts the bullet from the plastic and into the air to prevent Hatsume from needing to touch it directly for examination. As it hovers in front of her, Hatsume’s eyes start to gleam a brighter amber yellow inactivation of her quirk, allowing her to scrupulously inspect every detail down to even smidgen of a scratch.

A few hums leave her lips the more she tilts her head at the object, index finger steady beneath her chin.

“Well?” you ask, a tad impatient for answers as are the other three. Hatsume gives the bullet one last look before turning to you, a somewhat uncertain look on her face.

“Just who did you retrieve this bullet from?”

“A henchman from the Shie Hassaikai yakuza fired this at us last night while we were in a scuffle with them,” Todoroki answers with Midoriya continuing.

“We managed to avoid getting hit by it thanks to a comrade of ours.”

“Hah, as if those jokers could pose even a threat to us with flimsy weapons like these.” Bakugou punctuates with his arrogant poise, and you playfully roll your eyes at his comment before returning to the situation at hand.

“Still, for us to not recognize something as ordinary as a bullet like this is concerning, adding onto the fact they were willing to use this instead of facing them head-on with their quirks,” you add. There’s a silence lingering in the air at your words, but it eventually isn’t long until Hatsume says her piece. 

“Well, after seeing this, I suppose the talk going around the crime groups is true after all.”

The four of you exchange peculiar looks, inquisitive at the mention of such “talks”.

“What ‘talk’?” Midoriya asks, voice dipping low for his standards.

Taking a seat at her workbench while facing her four guests, Hatsume’s expression grows unusually serious.

“Some of my clients have spoken about some shady business going on in the underground recently.”

“Shady business?” Bakugou repeats vehemently, eyebrow quirked.

“This is the first I’ve heard of this,” Todoroki comments, growing wary at the shift in the situation.

“We practically have total control of the black market on the east side of Japan. What shit could be going on under our fucking radar?” The blonde’s eyes flare a menacing red over the news.

“To begin,” Hatsume continues, “my clients have spoken about a new weapon being spread around amongst many criminal gangs. It’s no surprise you haven’t heard of it actually. The ones producing them have made sure to evade the gaze of your mafia group by offering them to those in the west, and have only recently moved to the east.”

“They didn’t want us to intervene and mess with their steady business on the black market, I’m assuming,” you add, and Hatsume nods at your conjecture.

“Likely. Anyways, this weapon didn’t seem like a big deal at first. Just some talk about a bullet similar to the one here.” Hatsume gestures to the transparent bag. “But a bit of prodding later, I learned that the contents inside the bullet actually contain a drug created by a scientist, which was forcibly taken by the Shie Hassaikai yakuza.”

Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki are immediately attentive at the name, their expressions soon altering into revulsion as if a vile stench had suddenly wafted into the air, turning the atmosphere sour.

“So the yakuza made out with some stolen research and are mass producing these bullets onto the black market behind our backs, correct?” Todoroki relays the info with malice prevalent in his timbre.

“Those fuckers. Thinking they can do whatever the fuck they want, huh?” Bakugou’s teeth grit at every word uttered under his breath, fists clenching together. “They’re asking for it now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Kacchan. We’ll make sure each and every one of them is delivered the punishment they deserve.” Midoriya joins his fellow mafia bosses in the menacing pressure exuding from them. His smile is far from genuine—two-faced with intense animosity emanating from just a simple glance.

Having been by their side through situations similar to this level of tension, you’re very much used to witnessing these expressions painted on each of their faces—such as a time when their shipment of goods came far delayed due to a few lackeys’ miscalculations. In turn, Yuuei had lost a bit of time in their well thought out schedule, which was something Deku, Ground Zero, and Mercury were not at all happy about as they thrived on pure efficiency. To make the story short, those henchmen had received a rather brutal ending for their errors when the three were done with them.

Since then, the trio have let it become a lesson learned not to rely on a bunch of simpletons to carry out such important tasks. As a result, the mafia group had become more efficient from then on out, now centering around your smaller group of elites in the aftermath of the events.

You have to admit, seeing the three so riled up is quite attractive in your eyes. They were already charismatic on their own—being in their presence gave you a very tasteful glance of their domineering aura. But in action, that charisma somehow manifested many times stronger, and when in pursuit with such determination in hand, it felt like they could do just about anything they set their minds to.

However, there are times when you knew you needed to step forward and become their sense of reasoning, lest they walk through fog with no sense of direction. Now is one of those times.

“Well, to start, we need some leads.” You join in, and the three turn to you, ready for what their right-hand woman has to say. “Hatsume, do you know what the drug does?”

The girl shakes her head, much to your dismay, but offers a hunch. “I can only assume it must disrupt the body in some way on contact.”

“It’s a good thing Kacchan didn’t get hit by it then,” Midoriya comments.

“Shut up, Deku.” Bakugou harshly jabs his elbow into the young man’s sides, annoyed.

“Now’s not the fucking time.”

“Right, right… My apologies…” Midoriya replies, holding no ill will at his partner, despite his rough demeanor. The trivial exchange between the two quickly ceases. You decide to resume your questions directed at the craftswoman.

“Alright then… How about the scientist that created the drug? Do you have any info on them?”

Musing in thought, Hatsume’s eyes draw to the ceiling as she rummages through her head to recollect her memories.

“Hmm… What I have heard is that the yakuza had infiltrated a place located in the corner of Kamino Ward in Yokohama to obtain the drug.”

“So that must be where this scientist’s laboratory or base of operations must be then. Kamino Ward.” Todoroki guesses and the girl gives him a brief nod.

“Then that’s where we’re going next. We’re gonna find this scientist and get the info we need, even if we need to beat it out of them!” Bakugou exclaims, voice thundering throughout the workshop as his palm emits a small, concentrated burst of fire while coming in contact with his fist. “Not a single one of those half-rate yakuza asswipes are getting away, pulling this shit on us.”

“Though I have to warn you,” Hatsume interrupts forebodingly as a shadow casts over her features, “there have been rumors of people disappearing around those parts.”

You lift a brow, suspicious at the meaning behind those claims.

“Disappearing?”

“That’s right. Anyone that so much as approaches that area ends up poofing out of existence.” She emphasizes this notion by springing her arms outward. 

“Oh? Sounds a bit… far-fetched.” you reason, adamant on the idea that no such thing could happen without natural causes. After all, quirks are biological phenomena. Nothing as supernatural as disappearing from existence should be occurring, right?

“No, Angel Face, it sounds more than just far-fetched. It’s more like a load of bullshit to me,” Bakugou chimes in, bolstering your doubt against it.

“Probably something stirred up to keep people off this scientist’s back,” Midoriya speculates. “He’s already had his research stolen from him. I’m sure he wouldn’t want a repeat of that.”

As he appears behind you, Todoroki lays a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Even if something like that is true, I doubt it could truly pose a threat against us, considering who we are.” His hand dips down to find yours before lifting it above your shoulder to lay a quick kiss on your fingertips. You smile at both his words and his touching gestures.

Ignoring the affectionate display, the girl only shrugs. “That’s what I’ve been hearing is all, but I suppose you could take it with a grain of salt.”

Despite the ominous admonition, Midoriya gives Hatsume a grin before reaching into the pocket of his coat. “Thank you for the warning, Hatsume,” he sets a wad of cash down on the workbench in front of her, “along with the valuable set of information. We’ll be sure to put everything you told us to good use.”

She returns the smile, fingers curling around the stack furtively. “Well, a pleasure doing business with you, Yuuei. And remember, my services will always be available to you when you need it.”

“Dutifully noted.”

[glitterytidalwavedragon]

Expanding into my other Fandoms (I’m gonna have to take a stance) Read the whole thing please.

One of my oldest and most beloved anime is Inuyasha. As of late I have been binged watching the hell out of it as I am getting my BFF into different anime shows. We are really close to entering the Yashahime part of the series, and she asked if I planned to write fanfiction involving the one character which made me even watch the show as a 10-year-old.

Sesshomaru

The first episode I ever watched involved this aloof, entitled dog fighting his brother over the sword in their father’s grave. Specifically, it was part 3 of that whole episode series were Kagome pulled out the sword. I at the time had 3 dogs of German Sheppard/wolf hybrid, they were MASSIVE dogs, fell in love with the big white fluff that was Sesshomaru’s demon form. I use to sneak staying up and watch the show faithfully to see the goodest boy as it was only on at 11pm EST on adult swim. Which meant it was bad and I was breaking the rules, I felt like a rebel.

Now I hesitated answering that question. She has no idea of what is in Yashahime, she is being careful not to spoil it so I told her I didn’t know. Recently, to find out what the feel is for Sesshomaru content, I looked into the tag on tumblr…

OH MY GOD.

Sesshomaru’s tag is FLOODED with hate. Like every four post, there is hate, distain, and attacking happening. As someone who watches Yashahime, I quickly knew why.

Sessrin.

Even now I sigh. And I sigh HARD. I am not for, nor am I against the Sessrin train. Same for the Sesskagu train. I think both sides need to look at things on a logical prospective. I plan to do just that. I know I will get hate from the either side and maybe some support as well. But if I am going to do anything in this fandom (as I like doing ships and reader inserts) it will come up.

So, like my Kaiba post, and my Sebastian Heel post, I will use my research skills as well as my COLLEGE DEGREE WHICH HAS BOTH ART AND MEDIEVAL HISTORY labelled on it to explain why this progression in the story is normal to anti-Sessrin fans and why this isn’t a crime by story standards nor should we look at it as a crime.

AS WELL

Explain to Sessrin fans why it is so weird for non-shippers to see it play out and why so much hate formed.

As I let out another sigh, we shall begin. Let’s start at an historical prospective. (Links at the bottom).

PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING! I’LL BE ABLE TO TELL!

~~

I will start with the information I can access right away.

While finding charts on the life-span of common folk in 1590’s Feudal Japan is rather difficult, Ancient.edu states that the average lifespan was about 50. To put this in perspective, the average lifespan of Europeans at the time was somewhere between 40-45 with the latter being rare. Since most of us reading are not from Japanese descent, I will through Europe in this first.

If we look at the same time frame of 1590, we are looking at most of Western Europe had now entered the age of Renaissance. According to sources from Learning Resources in association with the National Gallery of Art, marriage was not what TV drama’s from HBO or Hulu depicted. By today standards they would be a crime, as the average age for marriage of an adult female was age 14…

The reasoning behind the young marriage age had multiple factors. First being, females were considered an adult once they were menstruating. Birthing also proved to be fatal, and since the lifespan was at best 40 and 45 if they were lucky, there was really no room to wait. Also Europe at the time had became hugely focused on making sure blood lines were legitimate, meaning to ensure the girl was a virgin, the moment she was able to reproduced she was married off. Those they married were not young teenagers either. Most marriages, a man would be in their thirties, and had probably multiple wives as women died more than men when not counting the battle field.

To make matters worse for the Renaissance Lady, these marriages would leave many young males unable to marry and if their husband died in battle, well, unfortunately they were not seen as desirable. This was due to the idea of a ‘free woman’. Should the girl not have a father, brother or uncle to return to as they too died, a widow had her freedom. But that freedom came at a cost. She would be assumed to have slept around, and in many writings, such as the Canterbury Tales, where Geoffrey Chaucer writes about a Window on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land survived her five husbands and the men in her family. In short, she was made to be a slut and to be looked down upon as no man controlled her.

The point of talking about Europe is because that is something most of us Non-Asian or Japanese people consume and like to paint in large romantic brush strokes of knights and magic. Honestly, reading G.R.R.Martin Song of Ice and Fire, he uses this model as we see the Queen of Dragons, Danny start off at age thirteen shortly after she had her first menstruation.  

Now let’s look at Feudal Japan.

As stated before, the lifespan was around 50 years. In some populations, this was even shorter. Nagaoka, Hirata, Yokota and Matsu’ura’s on demographic data at the Yuigahama-minami area in Kamakura, Japan and found both male and female remains that suggested life expectancy to have ended around age 24-25. This was largely due to living conditions and public health. In areas like these, it would make the most sense to marry and repopulate quickly as the expectancy of life was half the national average at the time.

To my frustration, I could not find a clear marriage age for Japanese women at the time of the edo period. HOWEVER, where there is a will there is a way. I took a look at famous Lords or Daimyo’s of the time. The average age of marriage of their wives was between 12-14. Much younger than I expected, but it made sense considering this is a time where war ran the show and marriage was strictly about political gain. One of these Daimyo’s was Masamune Date, who was also 13, but then as he got older took concubines who became considerably younger than him as he became older. The goal was to have as many children as possible for hires and for political marriages to gain power.

Now lets look at Inuyasha the MANGA

Lets get the manga timeline proper here. The whole adventure took place in 11 months, a month shy of Kagome’s 16th birthday. Doing a few estimations, Rin would have travelled with Sesshomaru about 8-9 of those months. But before we get into the relationship, lets look at something the ANIME made a huge mistake with in the beginning and tried to fix as the story went on.

For some reason I could only fine gifs for the Early appearances of Sesshomaru so bear with me.

Early appearances in the manga

 ^ He was so fickle and a trickster then...

Now early apperances in the anime.

Later appearance in the manga

Laster appearance in the anime

Notice the issue here? 

Sesshomaru was CONSIDERABLY younger looking in the start of the manga. In the anime, he started off looking like an fully adult male. But as the anime went on, they tried to make Sesshomaru look younger with subtle changes to his jaw line, eye size, and his height. Yeah, his height had changed. They made him shorter.

While in the manga, we see this young-teen looking demon, slowly mature over 11 months to look like he is in his later teens and by series end, closer to being in his late teens or twenty. Yes, art changes over time, but the anime went a reverse route. I can only guess they spoke to the author of Inuyasha about her ships, as they did Drama CDs, and realized the mistake that was made in making him more mature than he was.

You can’t tell me he doesn’t look closer to his manga self in the final act, because he does.

Since we are on the topic of the anime, lets be clear. The anime timeline and manga timeline are very different. The story in the anime (in the English) suggests that OVER a year has past since Kagome started her journey. They try to fix this in the final act, but it was still so muddled as previous seasons are to be taken as cannon. This could have been due to an translation error in the early production when the anime no longer had anymore manga material to reference. But whatever the case, for English viewers the time the group spent together felt much longer.

So now we come to the heart of the issue.

Because of the mistakes of the anime, a lot of anti-sessrin see the relationship as father daughter. I’ll be honest, watching the anime and solely the anime as a teenager and as an adult (as the manga was on hold for a very long time due to author’s health. I was in college when it finished.), I too thought it was just a father-daughter relationship and Jaken the nanny who got punched all the time. In fact, the English took hard liberties with Kagura, as the English dubs often do with characters, and made it very clear her feelings for the demon lord and Sesshomaru very much recognized them (though he never responded). Even in her death scene, it felt as if he was saying good bye to a friend more than love interest. But who really knows, as there are things that point otherwise.  When another demon mock’s Kagura’s death, Sesshomaru gets super pissy.

The manga did also play with this fact when it came out in English, idk if the wording or message is different in the Japanese. Translation errors happen a lot even in todays releases, look at Kuroshitsuji.  So of course most anti-sessrin’s did not see this coming in Yashahime when Rin was named mother. In fact it felt like a betrayal as we were sure Sesshomaru had no romantic feelings.

Then there was the Kohaku/Rin mashup that was hinted left and right. The English anime, with its overly dramatic and blunt emotions made it appear one way. That in the end the two kids would probably be married. Then the anime as a whole made Sesshomaru older than intended. I can see why and understand how this became a problem.

On the other side of that coin.

If you followed the dub, seen ‘Swords of an Honorable Ruler’ and read the manga… Sesshomaru was not fatherly to Rin at all. In fact, Jaken picked up all of that leg work. Rin worried for Kohaku, but clearly loved Lord Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru cared about Kagura but he almost CRIED when he lost Rin.

We have to remember that Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship must have been very hard for the demon. While we never see his mental process expect for a few rare times, we have to remember he hated humans. In the movie, he blamed a human for the early death of his father, Sesshomaru killed without mercy. It made sense that he wouldn’t be fatherly to Rin as her just being there should have caused countless inner conflicts. Hell, he even says his father’s weakness was humans, and look who picked up that trait.

Sesshomaru was designed to, someday, walk in his father’s footsteps. So sess/rin, not a surprise. Also when you see it in a historical perspective, Rin having kids around age 15-16, makes sense. In fact you could argue he waited too long for the time period.

We also need to look more at the manga when concerned with Yashahime. 8-9 months is all Rin travelled with him and he was like hold up, and left her at the village because he KNEW she needed to come to her own conclusion. That no matter what she picked he would live with and protect her. Unconditional love on his end. She cannon wise spent YEARS living with humans and MONTHS with Sesshomaru. Again, by manga standards of cannon.

Now I can already hear the screaming about age and what not. Some sources say Sesshomaru is over 900, by the rule of thumb, if we look at anime and movie releases, we have Sesshomaru being over 500 with no define age and Inuyasha around 270 years old being more pinpointed due to the movie. Just by going by ANIME CANNON. Kagome and Inuyasha, you have a 15 year old with a 270 year old man. If you say being pinned to the tree doesn’t count, then you have 220.

Also, here is something very interesting. In the episode where Inuyasha meets the unmother, he tells her, thinking it was his mom, she died when he was very small and we have flash backs later in the series of him being small running from demons. Demons clearly age much slower than humans, even half-demons. Inuyasha can be 270 but mentally and physically be 15, the same logic works for Sesshomaru, who in the manga is not much older than Inuyasha.

In the manga, there wasn’t any grooming, in the anime, there was a ton of mess-ups but no grooming.

Would this fly in todays world? HELL NO! NO, its gross, she’s a kid. Stop.

I know any fanfic I write will lean heavily on the side of father/daughter because that is what I grew up seeing on the screen. I can’t think of Rin as an adult because years of seeing her as a cheerful little girl. It’s like seeing G.O.T Arya about to have sex for the first time in season 8… I remember when she was a kid on the show. It was way to weird and I had to look away until it ended. But that’s my 2021 mentality.

But Inuyasha is not taking place in 2021. Feudal Japan is a whole other era with its own beliefs, morals and way of life. Those who understand this have nothing wrong with them. They just understand history.

Also, just to bang some nails in…

Anyone remember Bleach? Remember the MOST accepted couple was Ichigo and Rukia…. Rukia who was hundreds of years old and Ichigo who was 15… or Ichigo’s mom who was a teenager and his dad also hundreds of years old.

Most of this also boils down to Sesshomaru being a dude. As in reverse roles in animes its accepted and they don’t have the same historical context. Inuyasha is based off of historical context of Feudal Japan.

We need to stop spreading hate. We can’t accept some forms of literature because its European fantasy but bash other fantasy based literature for doing the same thing.

Sure, its weird for those who were use to seeing the father/daughter dynamic. Yes, there are extreme sessrin fans who post really questionable illegal content when they decide to leave Rin as an 8-year-old…

But this wasn’t ever meant to be perverted. The story was meant to make sense on a logical and historical base.

I hope everyone takes the time to read this. I love Inuyasha, I love Sesshomaru. I am just sick of seeing so many people fighting over what should be the revival of a beloved series. While yes, there is still room for sess/rin not being a thing, until it is stated otherwise, why hate each other? This fandom will only lose people by doing this. Calling people names or accusing them of illegal endorsement can hurt someone these days over social media.

Tumblr allows you to block tags. You don’t have to read anything or watch anything you don’t like. We gain nothing from attacking each other but can lose so much by doing so. Fanart, really good fan fiction, friends, ideas, sharing fond memories. Both sides have the right to feel as they feel, but no right in hurting each other.

A fandom is meant to bring people together. Not start a war…

Thank you.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ajpa.20402

http://www.italianrenaissanceresources.com/units/unit-2/essays/husbands-and-wives/#:~:text=Marriage%20not%20only%20reflected%20order,to%20ensure%20the%20bride's%20virginity.

https://www.ancient.eu/Canterbury_Tales/

https://www.ancient.eu/article/1424/daily-life-in-medieval-japan/#:~:text=Just%20as%20Japanese%20people%20today,in%20Western%20Europe%2C%20for%20example.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_Masamune

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megohime

[flclarchives]

Amusing Himself to Death, an Akadot.com interview with Kazuya Tsurumaki (director of FLCL and assistant director of Evangelion) from around December 2001. In the article, Tsurumaki explains a few things about Evangelion, his mentality behind FLCL as a whole, and the meaning of the name ‘FLCL’.

Full article text is under the cut, or read the article in its original form [here].

Kazuya Tsurumaki was a relatively little-known animator when Hideki Anno selected him to work as the assistant director on Neon Genesis Evangelion. For the TV series, which became a smash hit in Japan and one of the touchstones of the current surge of interest in anime in the US, Tsuramaki served as the main storyboard artist as well as assistant director, and when Studio Gainax began production on a trio of Evangelion films Tsurumaki got his first directorial assignment.

As he tells the story, Anno came to him after Eva and announced that he was out of ideas and that it was up to Tsurumaki to dream up the next project because, "you are next." Tsurumaki let his imagination run wild, but by the time he had written a script, Anno - despite his declaration that he had no stories left to tell - was already several steps ahead of Tsurumaki and in pre-production for his next series, Kareshi Kanojo no Jijo, leaving Tsurumaki a chance to have complete and unsupervised creative control of his own series FLCL.

FLCL, referred to as "Fooly Cooly" (or "Furikuri" by its American fans), is unlike any anime series to come before it. Wild, maniacally fast-paced physical comedy; exaggerated, exuberant animation alternately pushing towards surrealist- as when mecha exuviate from a bump on young Naota's head - and deconstructionist - as when the animation literally stops and the story is told by a camera bouncing across a page of black and white manga art panels; and obsessively, often irrelevantly, referential to obscure Tokyo-pop bands and anime insider trivia; FLCL was hyperkinetic and disorienting, yet mesmerizing, almost transgressive, and undeniably original. It inspired enthusiastic admiration for Tsurumaki as a creator, even amongst the perhaps 90% of the series' fans who were absolutely baffled by much of it. One is tempted to refer to it as announcing the arrival of full blown post-modernism in animation, or perhaps as the Exploding Plastic Inevitable of the anime industry.

When Tsurumaki visited Baltimore to speak to American fans at the recent Otokon Convention, predictably, many of the questions were along the lines of, "Hi, I really loved FLCL [or Evangelion], but could you please explain this part of it to me?"

Tsurumaki answered all questions genially with a self-deprecating and often mischievous sense of humor. For example:

Why does Haruko hit Naota over the head with her guitar?

Kazuya Tsurumaki: Naota is trying to be a normal adult and she belts him to make him rethink his decision.

Why does Evangelion end violently, and somewhat unhappily?

KT: People are accustomed to sweet, contrived, happy endings. We wanted to broaden the genre, and show people an ugly, unhappy ending.

Why is the character of Shinji portrayed as he is?

KT: Shinji was modeled on director Hideki Anno. Shinji was summoned by his father to ride a robot, Anno was summoned by Gainax to direct an animation. Working on Nadia [Nadia: Secret of the Blue Water, one of Anno and Tsurumaki's earlier projects] he wondered if he still wanted to work like this. He thought that working on Eva could help him to change.

Is there any particular reason why so many Gainax series feature very anxious, unhappy young male protagonists with no parents?

KT: Yes, the directors at Gainax are all basically weak, insecure, bitter, young men. So are many anime fans. Many Japanese families, including my own, have workaholic fathers whose kids never get to see them. That may influence the shows I create.

Could you explain the mecha bursting from Naota's head in FLCL?

KT: I use a giant robot being created from the brain to represent FLCL coming from my brain. The robot ravages the town around him, and the more intensely I worked on FLCL the more I destroyed the peaceful atmosphere of Gainax.

Why doesn't FLCL follow one story?

KT: In the third episode Ninamori was almost a main character, a kid who, like Naota, has to act like an adult.  After episode three her problem was solved so we wrote her out.  She has many fans in Japan and we got plenty of letters about that decision.  For FLCL I wanted to portray the entire history of Gainax, and each episode has symbols of what happened behind the scenes on each of Gainax's shows.   Episode one has many elements of Karekano; episode two, a lot of Evangelion references, etc.

Where does the title FLCL come from?

KT: I got the idea from a CD in a music magazine with the title Fooly-Cooly.  I like the idea of titles that are shortened long English words. Pokémon for "Pocket-Monsters" for instance, and an old J-pop band called Brilliant Green that was known as "Brilly-Grilly."

Is there any reason why the extra scenes added to Eva for the video release were cut in the first place?  Did you think the story would mean something different with them intact?

KT: The scenes that were added to Eva for its video release aren't that important.  We added them as an apology for taking so long to get the video out.  Maybe they'll help people understand things, because the episodes were done under tough deadlines the first time around.

Can you explain the symbolism of the cross in Evangelion?

KT: There are a lot of giant robot shows in Japan, and we did want our story to have a religious theme to help distinguish us.   Because Christianity is an uncommon religion in Japan we thought it would be mysterious.  None of the staff who worked on Eva are Christians.  There is no actual Christian meaning to the show, we just thought the visual symbols of Christianity look cool.  If we had known the show would get distributed in the US and Europe we might have rethought that choice.

After the panel, Mr. Tsurumaki sat down to speak with Akadot.

Do you enjoy confusing people?

KT: I have a twisted sense of humor.  I'm an Omanu Jacku, a contrarian.  [Writer's note- Omanu Jacku is a folk character a bit like Puck, a mischief maker]

What do you see differently now that you're working as a director rather than only as a visual artist?

KT: As an animator I have only the art; as a director story is really big.  I still feel as an animator and I often have trouble putting the needs of the story first.

Did you intend from the start for FLCL to be as bizarre as it wound up?

KT: From the very start I wanted a different flavor.  To achieve this I had to re-train the animators to be as stylized as I wanted them to be because I wasn't drawing it.  I knew that not everyone would get it.  I deliberately selected very obscure J-pop culture and anime sub-culture jokes and references.  Because Eva was so somber I always intended to make FLCL outrageous and wacky.

Why the choice to break out of conventional animation and use manga pages? Was it at all a response to how many anime are using computers to achieve smoother and more realistic visuals?  Were you trying to go the opposite direction?

KT: I like manga, not only to read, but the visuals.  The pen drawings, the frame breakdowns and layouts . . . This is the first time I have used digital animation, and those bouncing manga shots wouldn't have been possible with cel animation.   Personally I'm not interested at all in using computers for realistic animation.  I'm impressed by it sometimes, but I'm interested in using computers to do what was once impossible, not to do smoother versions of what has already been done.  I want to be less realistic.

Has using digital animation techniques changed the way you work, or the way you feel about your work when you see it?  Does it still feel like it's yours if a computer did much of it?

KT: Before I got into digital animation I saw other shows that were using it and I felt that there was no feeling, it was empty.   As an animator, there's a sense of release when you draw a cel.  There's something there.  Working on FLCL, though, I learned that computers can do more, and, most of all, that they allow room for trial and error and revising, more freedom to experiment.  That is why I now feel that cel art cannot win against computers.  For actual animation everything is still drawn on paper.  That work hasn't changed.  It's the other stuff, the touchups, and coloring.  If we didn't use paper, maybe the feeling would change.

Earlier today you said that you were trying to broaden the genre by giving Eva a sad ending.  Does the sameness of much of today's anime bore you?

KT: First of all we didn't use a sad ending to annoy fans.  When they're upset, that really bothers us.  Personally, I think a happy ending is fine, but not if it is achieved too easily.  That's no good.

For all the fans that are confused at all, if you had to define in one sentence what FLCL is about, what would you say?

KT: FLCL is the story of boy meets girl.  For me it is also about how it's ok to feel stupid.  With Evangelion there was this feeling that you had better be smart to understand it, or even just to work on it. With FLCL I want to say that it's okay to feel stupid.

Even though it may be strange to us, do you have in your head a logic behind it?  Are you trying to portray a story that follows the logic of dreams, or is it supposed to make sense symbolically?

KT: I'd like you to think of FLCL as imagination being made physical and tangible, just as it is for me when I take whatever is in my head and draw it.

So what are you working on next?

KT: Right now Gainax has told me that they'll support anything I choose to create, but I'm having trouble coming up with any ideas.

Why is that?

KT: Releasing titles for market, I know I have to make something to please fans, but I'm not a mature enough person to accept that fact.  If I'm not amusing myself I can't do it.  I feel bad that fans have to put up with such behavior from me.  I apologize. 

[literatigifs]

anonymous asked: I know we all love Jess and Rory here but whenever I see people say that "They could've been good but Rory and Logan were actually better suited for each other" I never really get it.

This kind of statement is always weird to me because even in their Yale years and even in Rory's state of still growing up and having had teenage boyfriends before, she was more romantically mature than Logan was even in season 7, and that says a lot from my perspective. I've recurringly seen people say stuff like "being an adult means figuring out that Rory and L*gan were more suited for each other" and no offense to anyone who thinks this, but I never got that impression at all. Because even if you were to argue that he "gives her support and makes her come out of her shell", with the exclusion of the 'you jump I jump Jack' scene, none of the other examples where he encourages her to do these impulsive decisions are ever good. And the moments where they seem to be doing well or have reconciled are always followed by Logan screwing something up, which is then followed by Rory being angry or hurt because of him. I know that many love to argue that the proposal was actually not in character for Logan, but honestly, with all the harping on about how we have to accept everything that Jess has done as in character and we therefore have to always call it out in a disclaimer whenever anyone says they like him as a character, I'm frankly tired and not interested in entertaining all these conditions about how "actually, season 7 is canon and the revival isn't for Logan" or "well actually, season 7 is canon for Logan except for the proposal". Like, first off can you guys make up your mind? And secondly, having to list all these opinions about him before stating that 'he and Rory were more suited for each other as adults' pretty much debunks this statement, sorry to say.

Even with the revival I always see people say stuff like "they deserve each other, they're both spoiled and they share that". Like, did y'all skip out on the numerous parts where Rory keeps complaining about feeling lost and out of control in her own life? Even if you were to argue that she's incredibly entitled for the jobs she interviewed for, the context of those scenes coupled with just how tired she looked from having to chase stories all the time made it look more like she was just burnt out from always having to do this rather than wanting some easier way to get a job. Rory ended up taking a job at the Hartford Gazette just because she at least wanted to do something that was connected to her field, but was obviously still burned out from her previous work and efforts. And the fact that her affair with Logan was going on while she felt like a failure further continues the narrative choice that it's not actually a good thing because it's happening like this and during a time where Rory feels lost and disoriented over her life. I can't stop people from proclaiming that they want Rory to be with Logan simply because "they're both terrible", but I also don't understand the notion that somehow she 'deserves' to be with him because of her bad state. Like why would I want Rory to possibly continue being his mistress or still having an issue with Mitchum whom Logan is obviously close with just because she's going through a bad period in her life?

Anyway, I don't really agree with that opinion because even in season 7, Rory and L*gan seemed to work fine on the surface for about a selected amount of time before other problems would always come up that were always from Logan's side. And considering Amy's plans which were more or less what we saw from the revival, it's safe to say that that pattern would've only continued with him as a character. Honestly, even if I wasn't into Jess and Rory, I wouldn't have wanted that for her, where she constantly has to point out the obvious errors in Logan's behavior and him not even properly communicating with her when he has issues in his work or when he makes a big life-changing decision and wants her to go with him, but doesn't even discuss it with her beforehand.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language + severe triggerwarning for victims of domestic abuse.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: House-hunting, mole-hunting and Anita-hunting (sort of). And this chapter is like 95% conversation.

Chapter 32

  “Are you serious?”

  “What?”

  “That is way too big… What would we even do with all that?”

  “Hermosa, we fill the space we have. That’s not a euphemism, just a fact. If we have four rooms, we’ll fill those, and if we have twelve, we’ll fill those too.”

  “Who the fuck needs twelve rooms?”

  “It only has eight rooms.”

  “And there are only four of us.”

  “So, that’s it? No room to grow further?”

  “Honey, just how much are you anticipating this little family to grow? That’s a totally serious question, by the way. How many kids would you actually like to have?”

  “If your weird-ass body permits – like… four.”

  “Hey, who are you calling w…… did you just say four?”

  “Yup.”

  “What… including Missy, or… an additional four?”

  “I’m not picky. If we end up with just the two little miracles we have, I’ll still be the happiest man alive, but I wouldn’t mind having a bunch. Five, six, however many our love can create, I’ll be more than happy to nurture and raise and love all of them unconditionally, even when they inevitably pee on me.”

  You had no idea how to answer that, so you just stared at him. But he knew how ambivalent you were about all things concerning family, so he didn’t pose the question back to you, and instead just smiled while he watched the cogs in your mind struggle to fit together.

  “S-six… you’d be okay with another… six kids?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Fuck, Marcus, I’m struggling to even get it into my head that we’re gonna be joined by a tiny fragile infant in about 7 months, how are you already contemplating another five?!”

  “Relax, preciosa, I’m not actively contemplating it, I’m just answering a question. Saying I wouldn’t mind something, doesn’t mean I’m aiming for it.”

  “But you’re looking at houses with eight rooms…”

  “Like I said: we fill the space we have. Rooms have endless usages, it’s not like we have to make all of them bedrooms. We can have home-offices, a separate play-room, a separate dining room.”

  “Yeah, I get all that, it just seems excessive.”

  “Sweetheart, all I’m saying is, we’re looking for a home for life. If our family grows more, I don’t want to have to move again. I want the place we pick to be one that can take anything we weirdo’s throw at it.”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll look at the big-ass house.”

  “Thank you.”

  He handed you the phone and you scrolled through the different images, seeing things you liked and things you didn’t. But when you got to the master bedroom, your eyebrows shot up. The room looked ordinary at first glance, but when you took a closer look, you noticed that it had some special features.

  “Marcus… is this why you’re so interested in this house?”

  “It’s not the only reason…”

  “Who the fuck owns this place - Stormy Daniels?”

  “No, just some accountant.”

  “The bedroom is soundproofed.”

  “Which is convenient and useful for all kinds of people, but especially parents.”

  “Hard pass.”

  “We could just go and look at it before you dismiss it completely.”

  “Nope. Not happening. Move on.”

  “Why? Seriously, what’s so bad about it? Missy wouldn’t have to wear headphones every other night, and we wouldn’t have to worry about her overhearing stuff.”

  “Yes, those are good points. But: what if something happens to one of us, and the other needs to shout for help? What if something happens to Missy, and she tries to shout for help and we can’t hear her? What if someone breaks into the house, and we don’t hear it? I mean, I’m pretty sure you have super-hearing, but I don’t, and you’re not home every second of every day. I want to live in a house that speaks to me. You know, the way our house used to creak in the mornings when the sun warmed it, and settle again in the evenings, when it cooled. And if we are gonna have a bunch of kids, I sure as shit wanna be able to hear every little thing they get up to.”

  He looked ridiculously pleased at how you’d thought that through.

  “Got it, hard pass on all soundproofing. But can I ask you another serious question? One you might not have such a clear answer for?”

  “Sure.”

  “Our house… why did you send the whole thing over there? Why not just Prince and his machines?”

  “There wasn’t any thought involved with that, just instinct, and at the time, the house didn’t feel safe. I walked in and it was like entering a tomb. And I honestly don’t know if I could’ve ever walked in to that house again without having that feeling.”

  “I can understand that, mi amor. And I hope you know that I’m not asking because I’m in any way upset with you. I saw the look in your eyes in those moments, and I know how scared you were. To be able to utilise your abilities with that kind of precision and delicacy right then, was down-right miraculous.”

  “Let’s just hope I never have to try and repeat that miracle. Now, what’s next on your list?”

  He tapped away on his phone, blinking a few times at the wetness in his eyes, before handing it back to you.

  “Wow… this is even bigger.”

  “Same number of rooms, just a bigger kitchen and more garage-space.”

  “Oh, I like the yard.”

  “Check out the backyard.”

  “Holy… that’s huge! And a pool. We’d need guardrails around that, or I’d be perpetually terrified for the baby to fall in. Are those trees on the property as well?”

  “Yes. That whole little patch of woods is.”

  “Really? I mean, a pair of swings in those trees…”

  You were so engrossed in the phone that you didn’t see Marcus smile wider as he watched you fall in love with the place.

  “Oh, I love the kitchen. And there’s a fireplace! Those are beautiful floors. Holy shit – I could swim in that bathtub…”

  “Sooo…… you like it?”

  “I do.”

  “Enough to go have a look?”

  “Definitely. But Missy has to come too.”

  He beamed. You’d had a few long conversations about the house-hunting before you actually started, and after a meeting at the bank, you’d found out that your credit was basically more than big enough for anything you might want, which was an odd thing to try and get your head around. Not that you wanted a life of luxury, but it was sort of strange to realise that you actually could have practically any kind of life you chose, in terms of housing.   The two of you had settled on a firmly planted roof of expense that you were willing to extend to the purchase. And even though this house was huge and renovated to the nines with modern upgrades, that still managed to float seamlessly into the older stem and feel of the house, it wasn’t really particularly near that roof.

  “I’ll call the realtor and see if they can fit us in later this week.”

  “It’s a nice area. A little out of the way, but a good neighbourhood, and Missy wouldn’t have to change schools. Our commute to work would be a bit longer, but on quieter roads. And there’s a fence around the property. We could get a dog, or two. Or even a frickin’ pony with the size of that backyard.”

  Marcus just stared at you with that giddy smile firmly planted in his whole frame, while you rambled on, completely lost in your own thoughts, until his silence eventually made you snap out of it and look at him.

  “Oh, crap. I’m already moving in, aren’t I…?”

  He just laughed and hugged you.

  “I’m definitely on board with the dogs. But I’m gonna need my phone back if I’m gonna be able to call the realtor.”

  You quickly handed it back to him, just as there was a careful knock on the door.   You were in Marcus’s office, sitting in one of the sofas, perfectly naturally just sitting next to each other, for once. It had only been a week since you were released from medical, and he was still a little worried about getting you worked up, so you hadn’t been together yet, and it was creating something of a space between you. Not a wall, nothing that exclusive, just a little void that was a bit hard to reach across.   He called for the person to enter, and Will stepped in, immediately shooting an apologetic glance at Marcus. He still hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Cujo that time, even though Marcus had apologized for scaring him.

  “Hi, sorry, I was told I could find you here.”

  You smiled warmly at him to ease his discomfort.

  “What’s up, Will?”

  “Uh, Miss. Timmons is looking for you, she needs your help.”

  Oh, for fucks sake…

  “Let me guess; she screwed up her paperwork, again?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Damned it, Izzy. Wait, why’d she send you to get me, you’re not an errand-boy, she couldn’t have picked up the phone?”

  “She did go looking for you in your office, but when you weren’t there, she got a little… desperate. She knows that she’s messed up too many times already, and I think she’s genuinely scared that you’re gonna fire her. She started crying outside your office and I was just passing by, so I offered to go find you for her.”

  “If I had the authority to fire her, I would’ve already done it.”

  You sighed and got up to leave, but Marcus caught your elbow.

  “You’re not gonna go back to work, right? We talked about that.”

  “If I know Izzy, this won’t be solved by correcting a few clerical errors.”

  “So, let someone else do it.”

  “No one else can, honey. That’s why I still have my job despite the number of sick-days I have.”

  “Preciosa… it’s dangerous. Prince’s people are in this building, and if he was obsessed with you, or us, then so are they. None of us can afford to be distracted right now.”

  “I know, but we still have to live. We’re still the same people, and neither one of us are the type of person that’s just gonna stand by when someone needs help. If the team needs you, I expect you to go and help them, not just because that’s your job, but because that’s who you are.”

  “Just don’t let yourself get too engrossed. Stay alert at all times. We have no idea who’s a friend and who isn’t.”

  “I’ll check in with you every hour, okay?”

  “Every half-hour. And just until you’ve sorted this mess out, then you come back and find me, you don’t start on another three problems you discover along the way.”

  “Are you giving me orders now, Team Leader?”

  He grabbed your hips and pulled you in close, so that your bodies were only millimetres apart and his nose was brushing against yours. It was more than enough to heat you up after six weeks of inactivity, but the tremble of emotion in his voice when he spoke next, pushed the desire aside, to make way for compassion.

  “I can’t lose you again. I’ll do anything…”

  You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his. How many times had you lost each other already? Your ability made it so easy for you to feel like it was your job to save others, like it was what you were put in this world to do, and especially where your family was concerned. So, you had to start reminding yourself that while you would probably always be able to absorb anything bad that happened to them – you’d also always hurt them by doing that. Your ability came with a terrible price, and you were only lucky to have survived everything you’d been through thus far.   Marcus was right, you had to be more careful.   You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nestled your nose into his neck. His arms closed around your waist and held you to him, strong and sure, and you felt like you could just stand there for the rest of the day.

  “I promise I’ll be careful, and not take any risks. I love you.”

  “Te amo, querida.”

  Will had moved to stand outside the door after Marcus started talking to you, but he fell in behind you when you walked past him.

  “So, where is she, and what has she done?”

  It felt really good to get back into something familiar and achievable again. To do something that generated an immediate response and result, and within fifteen minutes you suddenly understood why Marcus had been so worried. You got lost in the task in no time at all.   You sent him a text while you waited for a lawyer to call you back.

  [You’re right, I’m already cheating.]

  [How bad?]

  [Two other issues already solved, while I’m waiting to work out Izzy’s.]

  [Why are you waiting?]

  [Because lawyers always have something better to do.]

  [Fine. But as soon as it’s dealt with, you come back to me. I’ll be at the control centre.]

  [Promise. What’s going on?]

  [Just two small countries deciding to go to war over the quality of their chocolate.]

  [Well… I suppose there are worse things.]

  [They’re hurling missiles at each other over fucking candy…]

  [Wow… Where’s Máma when you need her?]

  [Don’t you worry, she’s right here, so this should be sorted out by the time you get here.]

  [Oh, in that case, I am so calling her Chocoreno from now on.]

  [Please don’t…]

  [Only if she doesn’t solve it.]

  [*sigh*]

  After another eight phone calls and a lot of grovelling to people you really didn’t like, you finally managed to set things straight, and went to find Izzy to give her a piece of your mind - again. But when you got to her office, she was on the phone and turned away from the door, so she didn’t see you come in, and you accidentally overheard the end of her conversation.

  “No, of course not, I’ll be straight home from work. Why would I make any stops? --- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you… --- No, baby, don’t… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. --- Anything you want, name it. --- Yeah, that sounds.. nice. I’ll be home soon.”

  Shit.

  She turned around, looking absolutely terrified, and then she saw you by the door and quickly tried to adapt a neutral expression. She was good at it too, within half a second there was no trace of fear in her face. You only got that good at hiding your feelings if you knew that showing them meant terrible pain.

  “So, everything’s taken care of, no harm done.”

  “Really? Oh, thank you. I’m so sorry, I swear I don’t mean to mess up the papers, it just gets to be too much sometimes.”

  “Izzy, if I ask you a personal question, will you answer me honestly?”

  A trace of fear re-emerged in her features, but she nodded carefully.

  “Is it work that gets to be too much… or is it home?”

  You could see the internal struggle. The need to be free of the fear and the pain, and that same fear making it almost impossible. All the irritation and frustration fell away from you with the realisation that she wasn’t incompetent at all. She was being smothered.   How many times had you added to her stress and general feeling of inadequacy, by barking at her for constantly missing or screwing up doing things? Why hadn’t you seen the signs sooner, you knew every single one of them?

  “I’ve been where you are, Izzy. I should have seen this. I’m so sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, honestly, I’m fine.”

  “Show me your arms and your stomach. If they aren’t bruised, I might believe you.”

  She squirmed where she stood, and her head dropped in defeat.

  “When was the last time you didn’t have an injury somewhere? When was the last time you could move without feeling pain somewhere?”

  She just kept staring at the floor, shaking her head, trying to will it not to be true, so you walked up to her, pushed your energy around her, and healed her.   The amount of energy that it drained from you, told you everything you needed to know about how injured she was, and you quickly reached into your back pocket to retrieve a pill from the small box you kept with you at all times these days.   Izzy stared wide-eyed at you, while you fumbled with a paper-cup at her water-cooler, hands shaking with the sudden loss of strength. Then she suddenly sprung to life and came to help you fill the cup and down the pill.

  “Jesus Christ, girl, how were you even standing with all that damage?”

  “I… got used to it over time. He didn’t… start out that bad.”

  “They never do.”

  “Thank you. So much.”

  “Thank me by letting me beat the living hell out of that guy.”

  “You’d better not. But… maybe… you could ask one of the guys on the team to… talk to him?”

  “Are you serious? You wanna stay with him? No, honey, no amount of talking is gonna fix him.”

  “No, I meant like… talk him into not killing me for leaving him.”

  “Oh… Yeah. That I could probably do. Just give me his name and address.”

  You downed another pill, and started feeling better, while Izzy scribbled on a note for you. You took it and read it, and stuffed it down your other back pocket.

  “You should stay here tonight, just in case he decides to try anything. And call me if you need anything, Marcus and I are still living here, so we’re close, okay?”

  She seemed to hesitate about something.

  “What is it?”

  “Um… do you know Jack Daven?”

  “Who?”

  “He’s a kid who interns at the science division.”

  “Oh, Jackie. Yeah, unfortunately I do know who he is.”

  He was the kid you threw head-first into a wall.

  “I just… I think he might have something to do with your mole situation.”

  “What? Why would you think that?”

  “A while back, he came to me saying that science had sent him with some paperwork that needed to be signed, but when I looked at it, I realised that it was actually for research, and I told him that. And he laughed it off saying that he’d just made a mistake, but that didn’t seem very likely, because the forms he had were for release of testing materials. They wouldn’t send an errand-boy to retrieve those, they’re too dangerous. At the time I figured that maybe he’d been sent with an escort, for learning purposes, and that I just never saw them. But, now with the investigation, I think there might have been more to it than that. I was just too scared to... I didn’t know who to trust with it.”

  “You can always trust me. Thank you, Izzy, I’m so sorry that I ever thought of you as incompetent.”

  “Forgive me and I’ll forgive you.”

  “Done.”

  You ran full speed back to Ops, and almost collided with the automatic door to the control centre. Marcus was working at a station to the left, and smiled without looking up as he heard you. Anita was at the centre console, with her back to you.

  “Damned it, why do all automatic doors move so fucking slowly?”

  “Ah, I hear my future daughter-in-law has entered the premises.”

  “Shut it, Chocoreno.”

  “What did you just call me?”

  “Choco-reno, the clue’s in the name, máma.”

  “Ay, loco, today’s not a good day to test me.”

  “Why, does máma need a hug?”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Fine. How about some nice chocolate instead? I hear there might be some steep discounts on a couple of brands.”

  “Mujer… did you burst in here for a reason? Because if not, I’ll burst you right back out.”

  “Hah, I’d like to see you try.”

  She huffed.

  “As you wish.”

  You caught a glimpse of Marcus’ expression as it shifted from bemused to genuinely worried, when Anita turned and came towards you.

  “Mooom…”

  She ignored him and tried to grab you, but your ghost hands caught hers before she could make contact, and they were much stronger than your physical hands.   She definitely had super-strength, that much was obvious right away, and she wasn’t holding back. You could feel your strength begin to drain, so you changed tactics. You flooded the room with energy, and then drew it back to compact it all around yourself, creating that same kind of barrier that the Inventor hadn’t been able to break through, despite his genius belt-modification.   And then you just stood there, perfectly still to conserve energy, while she tried in vain to push you out of the room.

  “Mom, stop it, right now!”

  As her focus momentarily shifted towards Marcus, you saw the smile that played in her features. She was just having fun, testing your strength and flexing her own, whilst getting some frustration out of her system, knowing full well that you could take it.   Feeling certain she wouldn’t kill you for it, you grabbed the opportunity.   You let the wall of energy disappear as she was leaning against it with all her might, and as the barrier fell, so did Anita – right into your arms.   It was a bit like trying to catch a running bull, and the impact was certainly painful, but you ignored it and just hugged her to you.   She scrambled out of your grip, but you just smiled at her, because you knew she enjoyed every moment of it.

  “I have to say, I’ve never had to fight my way into a hug before.”

  “That wasn’t a hug, loco.”

  “Yes, it was, and you know it. Do you feel better now, or do you need another?”

  She was actually contemplating another round, which prompted Marcus to step in between you.

  “Do I have to remind both of you that you’re pregnant, hermosa? Playful or not, you’re not fighting each other again, now, tell me why you were moving so fast that the doors were too slow for you?”

   Oh, for fucks sake, why where you so easily distracted?

  “Right… We should probably talk in private. Considering the fact that it’s only been two hours since we sat in your office looking at houses – a hell of a lot’s happened.”

  He led the way towards the door, and you shot a look at Anita, over your shoulder.

  “Raincheck on that hug?”

  “I’ll boogie with you anytime, loco.”

  “That’s how you boogie? And you call me ‘loco’.”

  “Oh, yes. You’ve earned that one, many times over.”

 Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

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