#so i fear mutt might be getting this treatment from the both of them!!!!!!

[guttersniper]

@quantumleapt​ said: [ clean ] Al being an Italian grandparent and wiping a smudge off of Mutt's cheek...

nonsexual acts.

when he turns, the furrow in his brow is so much an echo of sam, some stranger might think they really were of shared blood. he’s always been like that. picking up every little thing he notices about the people around them, many times without even fully realizing it. 

the quick upward jerk of his chin works as a replacement for words in acknowledgement of hearing his name, a sort of silent go on. al doesn’t look like he’s up to anything (mutt’s learned the signs), nor does he seem to be upset or hurt or uncomfortable (he’s learned those, too). he’s seconds away from opening his mouth to prompt him, maybe he forgot what he was going to say, but he swallows that when he notices al’s looking at him odd. 

instead: “ -- got something on my face? “ as a matter of fact, he does. a vague sniff, and a hand rose to scratch at the dirt-laden spot on his cheek. he goes entirely still when al approaches, and doesn’t even move a muscle -- it seems he’s even stopped breathing -- when he sees him lick his thumb, and put his unused hand on his shoulder to hold him steady. he stares, unblinking, following the finger as if he were in a doctor’s office and being asked to.

“ christ. “ mutt grunts, squirming away from the impromptu washcloth made of spit and the pad of his thumb. something adjacent to a smile kicks up one corner of his mouth. “ you’re gross. “ it’s teasing, and anybody who knows mutt and the things he’s been through knows not much manages to gross him out. he tugs the too-long length of his sleeve over his fingers, and rubs at the spot until he’s certain he got the worst of it. he never thought he’d one day spend more time properly clean than dirty, but. here he was. “ there. better? “

[emry-stars-art]

I hate drake so much i hope he dies a painful death in your royal AU 😡

Fairly certain this is gonna be a common agreement yes

Honestly in one version of events I just imagine Drake making a stupid mistake in a battle or border dispute and getting himself killed like a coward or an idiot because he is both of those things

In ANOTHER version I was talking about with @jtl-fics and @paradoxolotl we can make it as dramatic as we want ✨

And honestly I’ve been meaning to write it! I even started writing it, but as I went I realized it has the potential to get wayyy out of hand by way of scenes (in that it would become several scenes bc there’s so much to cover) so instead of waiting to be fully finished, I am going to give us all an early sparknotes or summary of events

What I DID write all the way was what might happen when Abram and the prince run into Spear at a ball/event: here.

(⬆️POV you are a very stupid baron and you’ve just made your very last mistake)

Find the royal au writing masterpost here 💕

After all that (the snippet) goes down, Spear is probably very angry. How dare the prince act so ungrateful to his family, how dare he be threatened by the Evermore mutt, and how dare he be publicly embarrassed like that. He’s too proud to even go fume about it on his own. He’s always had people and things to take his anger out on. So he reverts back to what he knows.

No one in the castle stops him on his search of the halls. They all recognize the Spear family - of course the Spears visited often, at least before, and often enough to send their prince to live with them. The twins and anyone else in the know about the prince’s time there are extremely private about it. The staff that see Spear have no reason to think anything of his presence at all.

But Abram is still standing watch at Andrew’s door, and he doesn’t seem about to leave. Spear likely thinks it doesn’t matter much - the brat is small and unassuming except for those nasty scars. Abram even gets distracted by a small crash coming from the direction of the stairs, wandering a little way down to see.

It should have been obvious not to underestimate an official royal bodyguard. Spear hasn’t even touched the door before Abram is there, pinning an arm behind his back as something sharp again presses to Spear’s jacket. The surprise knocks Spear against the prince’s door before Abram pulls him up and back a few steps.

Andrew does answer. Likely he thought it was Abram knocking, but as soon as he sees Spear he freezes. Spear doesn’t even have time to revel in the fear he caused - Abram uses all his weight to swing Spear around and shove him hard against the far wall. What Spear vainly thought was an empty threat before feels suddenly much more real, the way Abram doesn’t try to be at all gentle or careful. The blade is biting into Spear’s clothes.

And Spear is angry. The Evermore filth on him, the gall to treat Spear like this when Spear should be allowed to trample this brat under his horse. The brat thinking he had any say over the Palmetto prince.

He snarls, “Andrew, control your dog!”

And he doesn’t see it, but that snaps a little of Andrew’s panic. The only thing more potent than Andrew’s memories is his white hot anger at Abram’s, and even though Abram doesn’t react, Andrew absolutely refuses to let that slide.

Spear hears, “Dont let him touch you,” and then he’s released. Finally, he can get a little justice for this treatment. He turns and raises a hand to strike Abram.

Abram takes off his hand as he swings.

Andrew gets full oversight on Spear’s punishment. They have him convicted of untoward behavior, trespassing, and then Andrew allows ‘attempted destruction or harm of royal property’ only when he’s told it adds heavy consequence.

Really, it doesn’t matter all that much. Everyone in that room for the proceedings knows why he’s really there, and maybe those three charges wouldn’t always add up to a death sentence, but Aaron has been waiting for this chance. He adds ‘intention of treason’ to the trespassing charge and tells Andrew to do what he will.

Andrew doesn’t let Abram near it when they carry out the sentence. He does go through with some of his plans for Drake - he won’t ever make Drake pay 1:1 for what he’s done, but the magnitude would have been similar, had they gotten that far. They don’t, though. Andrew is doing just fine watching the proceedings, letting it pass through his eyes and ears and only be remembered when he really wanted. He had been sure he wanted this, he’d been sure it would be satisfying and cathartic. But he wasn’t feeling those things as much as he should have been.

Part of the punishment for treason is flogging. Andrew sees the strikes fall and it looks vaguely familiar. He’s seen those wounds and scars before. And suddenly it comes to him all at once; he doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to watch this. He just wants Drake dead. He wants Abram.

So he moves for the first time in several minutes.

“Enough. I’m finished.”

Aaron gives him a look but gestures to the soldiers or whoever else. Andrew stands and goes to leave and there’s a scuffle behind him, yells and pounding feet. Something unsheathed and then a heavy, sickening thud. Maybe even a cut off scream.

Even then he doesn’t turn around. He can’t make himself. Spear had charged him, he understands distantly. He doesn’t know who was just struck, but the only person that should have been so close to him was his brother.

He whispers, “…Aaron?”

“Go, Andrew,” Aaron says quietly, and Andrew finally breathes again. “Abram is waiting.”

So Andrew does go, and he spends a long time holding Abram, assuring himself that Abram is there in one piece and isn’t being harmed, Drake is no longer there and can’t harm anyone else. Maybe this is far enough in that Andrew can even let himself be held, too. So he does find the catharsis and satisfaction, but not in watching Drake suffer. Just in the fact that Abram allows him close enough to hold, to play with his hair, to fall asleep there curled up in the middle of his bed. Unused mattress to every side and no space between them.

[overobsessivewhumper]

Mutt’s hospital visit

Ahhhh... Finally i got to writing! This took too long! Not one of my best works, but hey... This is extra bad, because my knowledge of hospitals and medicine are very limited

Next

Content warning: hospital, broken ribs, mention of other injuries, modern slavery, past abuse

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain @18-toe-beans @haro-whumps @deluxewhump @kungpao-giffy @draganies @spiffythespook @whump-chains @projectstripe

Gavin should have noticed sooner. It was so obvious. Any other person would have noticed. Everything was pointing to it. The coughing, Caleb’s shallow and careful breathing, the way he occasionally clutched his side in pain when he thought Gavin wasn’t paying attention to him. But Gavin didn’t notice, did he? Not until he finally came around to asking Caleb to show him what’s wrong and saw the very unnatural shift of rib bones along his right side.

And Gavin’s ignorance is precisely the reason he’s currently driving as fast as he dares, heart rate going a whole lot faster then it probably should in a healthy human, whilst Caleb sits on the passenger seat, looking equal parts absolutely terrified and confused. Gavin should have noticed sooner. Caleb could have died of internal bleeding! Hell, he could be dying right now!

“Just… Just hang in there Caleb. It’s fine. You’re… You’re going to be fine! This is all fine! You are not dying!” Gavin wondered who he was actually trying to reassure; Caleb, or himself. Gavin glances over at Caleb. Caleb does not look reassured.

“D… Dying?! I’m… I’m dying?” Gavin curses himself for being this shit at handling stress situations.

“No. No. It’s fine Caleb. I… You’re going to be fine! It’s just… just broken ribs. It’s fine.” Turning his attention back to the road, Gavin tries to get his breathing in check, attempting a few slow and deep breaths in a row. Gavin can feel Caleb’s eyes on him, getting the feeling that the man next to him is burning to ask him something, but doesn’t dare to say anything.

“You want to say something, right? Go on. You always have my permission to speak.” Gavin’s words come out a bit choked between his shitty attempts at calm breathing. He can see Caleb fidgeting with his hands in the corner of his eye.

“I… Mas… I… I mean Gavin I…” He closes his eyes, swallowing hard. He clenches his fists before speaking louder, faster and clearer than Gavin heard him ever before. “If you’re bringing me to a… a Pet pound because of a… a few br… broken ribs, I… I beg you not to! I can st… still work! I can be… be useful a… and good, eve… even if I am damaged goods!” For a moment, Gavin can’t say anything. But he jumps back into action when he can see Caleb curling in on himself again, looking horrified at how he just spoke back to his Master. Gavin can sense him going into apologising and begging for forgiveness mode.

“No! I’m not taking you to a Pet pound!” Gavin stops. He’s being too loud. He can’t get loud with Caleb. He tries again, keeping his voice at a moderate level. “I would never Caleb. “ Caleb is staring at his wrists. “Caleb… Please look at me.” Caleb obeys, as he always does. “I can’t look at you right now. Don’t want to get us caught up in a car accident as well… But please. Trust me when I say, I’m not going to give you away. Not now, not ever.” Gavin feels Caleb itching to ask something again.

“It’s okay if you want to ask something Caleb. I won’t see it as rude.” Caleb resumes his fidgeting again.

“I… Ga… Gavin, whe… where are we go… going then?” Good question. Where are they going to? Caleb needs medical care. And fast. Gavin is not risking a man’s death over said man’s assurance that he can work on with broken ribs. Pet medical facilities have the biggest array of different treatments, but Gavin doesn’t trust them, nor does he like the rumours he’s heard about the places. And it could very well scare Caleb, seeing one of those places, and he might assume Gavin might still want to give him away.

No. no way in hell is Gavin taking Caleb to one of those places.

Normal hospitals offer limited treatment for Pets, but only in emergency situations. Well if this wouldn’t be counted as a emergency situation, Gavin didn’t know what would. Gavin shuddered. His dislike of hospitals is big, but he wouldn’t risk a humans life because of one of his silly dislikes.

Caught deep in thought, Gavin almost misses a turn, and ends up having to do it a little too fast and sharp. Caleb gets caught unready for the sudden change of direction, and hits the car door with his shoulder. He grunts in pain, wrapping his arm around his right side as the movement must have jostled his ribs. Guilt pools in Gavin’s stomach, hot and sharp.

“Shit, Caleb, I am so sorry! Crap… Sorry! I’ll try to drive more careful!” Gavin is aware that he’s being too loud, but he can’t help it. Caleb just has a confused and pained expression plastered on his face. Well, at least he probably didn’t mistake me raising my voice as signs of anger, Gavin thinks.

Gavin decides against saying anything else, knowing that he keeps saying thing that just make Caleb worry more. Shutting up is his best option here. And that he does for the rest of the drive. There are no more issues with Gavin’s terrible driving leading to more pain for Caleb, but the way he takes every breath with extreme caution worries Gavin a lot.

Getting Caleb out of the car needs a little bit of patience and gentle coaxing, fear evident on the smaller man’s still bruised face. It’s obvious Caleb wants to obey, but the fear is keeping him from doing that, causing him even more distress. Eventually, Gavin manages to get him out, promising him that he won’t leave his side, and telling him that he can hold on to him if that makes him feel better.

Cautiously, pale, frail fingers wrap around Gavin’s left arm gently, as Caleb’s worried eyes skim across the parking lot. Gavin smiles reassuringly, lightly placing his bigger hand over the smaller, scarred one clutching to his upper arm.

“You’re doing great Caleb.” Caleb doesn’t look like he’s sure he should be allowed to believe that.

Keeping his pace slow as to accommodate for Caleb’s limp, Gavin starts walking towards the entrance of the hospital. Gavin’s concern spikes at how small and breakable Caleb looks clinging to his arm. It’s only been approximately two days since Gavin first saw Caleb kneeling on the floor before him in Mr. Hughes house, but Gavin already knows that if it came to it, he’d be ready to take bullets for this guy. Caleb deserves more love and care and positive attention then Gavin could ever give him and it burns him up inside that people like his boss would find pleasure and amusement in abusing people like him.

Caleb has a poorly concealed expression of pain spread to every corner of his face, worrying Gavin further.

As they step into the hospital, Caleb moves a little closer to Gavin, so close that he’s pressed right against his side. Gavin takes his hand in his.

“Hey… It’s okay. I won’t leave your side.”

Caleb mumbles a quiet “Thank you Master.” in response.

Once at the reception desk, Gavin contemplates just not mentioning that Caleb is a Pet, but eventually decides against it. The chip would get noticed, and he’d only prologue Caleb’s wait for treatment and get them both into trouble.

So he has to explain to the man at the desk, probably in his early forties with black hair and reading glasses, that he’s actually Caleb’s owner. The man’s smile fades to a frown.

“Oh. You’re one of those people. Well you just need to go right down that hall, and at the far left, you’ll find a door leading to the Pet ward. Good luck finding it.” He does nothing to conceal the disgust in his voice or expression. Gavin nods and smiles, before going in the direction the receptionist pointed him. Guilt blooms in Gavin’s chest once again.

It doesn’t take them too long to get there, even with Caleb’s limp. He’s obviously pushing himself hard to walk fast.

Once in the ward, Gavin is greeted with another reception desk, this time maned by a young blond girl, currently typing something on the computer in front of her. She looks up at Gavin, and then over at Caleb. She frowns at Caleb, probably because of the terrified way he clings to Gavin’s side, and the bruises littering his face and neck.

“Yes?” Her voice has a hint of sadness to it.

“I well… Um…” He points at Caleb. “He’s got like… seriously bad looking broken ribs all along his right side and I don’t know how long he’s had them and he could be dying of internal bleeding and he’s in a lot of pain, like… a lot! And I don’t know if some of the bones pierced some of his internal organs or something! It looks really bad!” Gavin couldn’t stop the spew of words from coming from his mouth, barely remembering that he still has to breath.

“Woah there Mister, calm down! Can you show me how bad it looks?” Quietly apologising to Caleb, he tugs his t-shirt up and shows her his right side. “Yeah… That doesn’t look good… I’ll make sure to get a doctor to see you as soon as possible.” She grabs a piece of bright yellow paper and a pen from the side and hands both to Gavin. “In the meantime, fill this out. Waiting room’s over there.”

She points to a door to the side. Gavin nods and steps into the waiting room, Caleb still clutching to his arm.

There aren’t many other people in the waiting room. There’s an elder lady with a tired expression on her face sitting on a chair with a female Pet sitting at her feet. She looks like a rather high class pet, dressed rather fancily. She has her knees drawn up to her chest an her eyes closed. There is a second woman siting in a chair further away. She looks younger and seriously pissed. She has a male Pet kneeling at her feet, a less high class pet then the other woman. The Pet has his arm cradled to his chest, it looks bent in an odd angle. There is a third Pet kneeling in the corner. It seems his Owner has left him here, probably to impatient or busy to wait with his Pet. The Pet has burns running up and down his arms. They don’t look all too bad, but cover a big enough area to need to have someone have a look at them.

Gavin sits down, making sure that Caleb sits in the chair right next to him. The elder lady seems put off by this. Gavin ignores her displease expression and starts filling out the formalities on the paper. It doesn’t ask much. Just basics, like the owners name, address, phone number and year of birth. It asks even less of the Pet. Merely their number and why they where brought here. Gavin has forgotten Caleb’s number by now. He leans closer to Caleb.

“What’s your number again?” He keeps his voice gentle and quiet.

“43002612” Caleb sounds a bit scared. Gavin can feel him trembling beside him. Gavin puts the paper to the side and turns to Caleb.

“Hey… You’re doing so great. And I really mean it. I know how stressful and scary hospitals can be.” He gently takes his Pet’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “Is the pain bad? Please be honest.”

Caleb stares at Gavin, hesitating, before very cautiously nodding. Gavin frowns.

“But you’re doing really good.” Gavin smiles. For a moment, Caleb’s eyes seem to brighten up slightly.

It seems to Gavin that it takes ages until they get called out of the waiting room, the elderly lady complaining about them getting called out first in the background as they leave the waiting room.

In the doctor’s office Caleb gets asked to sit up on the examination table and take of his t-shirt. He does so with a bit of aid from Gavin’s part.

The doctor is a smallish man with greying brown hair that looks like he’s done with everything. He moves his chair closer to where Caleb is sitting, and scans his chip.

“Oh, only been his owner for a few days then, huh?” He eyes the bruises covering Caleb. Gavin nods, but says nothing. “Okay then. Lets get on with this then. I don’t have much time. Lay down please.”

Caleb looks at his Master questioningly, and when Gavin nods, he does what is asked of him.

The doctor examines the area by pressing at Caleb’s ribs gently and listening to his lungs.

“Well he has four broken ribs on his right side, that’s for sure, but his lungs are fine. But you’re not getting out of running him through an x-ray.”

“What about internal bleeding?”

“Well. I can’t really determine that from outside. We will run an MRI too to determine that.” Gavin nods.

The doctor runs through some technical things with Gavin whilst Caleb sits next to him silently. Gavin soon notices that there is no way he will be able to join Calen during the tests he’ll have to go through, and begins to worry about him. He promised he’d stay at Caleb’s side. When Caleb catches on to this he clings to Gavin even tighter.

“I know I promised I wouldn’t leave your side. I’m sorry, but I can’t come with you for this. I’m so sorry. But I’ll be right back at your side as soon as I can. And that’s a promise I plan to keep.” Caleb looks scared and unconvinced, but, obedient as ever, lets himself get led away.

This is when Gavin really starts to worry. It’s taking way too long. What if Caleb feels uncomfortable or scared? What if he passed out from internal blood loss? Gavin can feel himself hyperventilating again as he paces the halls of the Pet ward. He tries to get his breathing under control by breathing slowly into his cupped hands and holding his breath for ten seconds. It works moderately, but he still needs to lean against the wall for a moment.

It’s just all so much! A few days ago, he had nothing to do with Pet’s at all, nor did he think he ever would, and now, he owns one, and even might be responsible for his death. Yes, he wasn’t the one to inflict the wounds, but he should have noticed. He should have noticed. He should have took Caleb to the hospital straight away. Gavin rubs the palm of his hands across his face. There are so many things he should or could have done. So many. He just hopes he didn’t do the ones he did too late.

When he spots Caleb limping in his direction alongside a nurse, he feels like he can breath just a little bit freer. He starts bombarding her with questions and she tells him to calm down and that she’ll explain in a moment, sending Gavin’s heart racing with worry again.

Once Caleb is back on the examination table, she explains to Gavin that he hasn’t gotten any internal damage aside from the bruising around his broken ribs, and that the fractures are rather basic, so it will heal on its own.

“They won’t need any further medical treatment, but the rest of him sure does.” She glares at Gavin.

Gavin silently holds Caleb’s hand through out the treatment of the rest of his injuries, caressing the back of his hand with his thumb again. At one point the nurse leans in closer and asks something of Caleb. He shakes his head and says something quietly. The nurse looks up at Gavin.

“He says you didn’t do all this to him.” She gestures at the burn on Caleb’s ribs she’s currently tending to. Gavin shakes his head.

“No. I’ve only…” Gavin sighs. “Only been his… his owner for a short while.” She nods, becoming slightly less hostile towards Gavin.

Once she’s done, Caleb  is bandaged up much neater then the low quality of bandaging Gavin had achieved. The nurse briefly explains some basics about how to care for the different wounds and how all he could do for the broken ribs is let Caleb rest and ice the area.

“What about some stronger pain killers? He’s in a lot of pain… I’ve been giving him Advil, but it isn’t nearly strong enough.”

She almost laughs out loud.

“Oh dear, no. I’m afraid that’s frightfully illegal.” Gavin blinks in confusion.

“What?”

“Prescribing Pet’s strong pain meds is illegal, dear. Have you been living under a rock?” What the hell?! Gavin runs his hands through his hair.

“Yeah. Apparently I have.”

From then on, Gavin tries to get out of there as fast as possible, wanting to get Caleb into an environment with less people, and himself out of the sterile halls of the hospital which seem much narrow for his liking.

When they are finally back in the car, he feels a little bit more relaxed. But he doesn’t trust himself to drive just yet.

“You did really good in there Caleb! You stayed so calm…” Caleb’s eyes brighten ever so slightly again.

“Tha… Thank you Gavin!” Gavin smiles a bit.

“Are you okay? Please answer truthfully.” Caleb stares at Gavin, trembling slightly. He seems to have no idea how to react.

“I guess what I’m asking is, do you need a hug?” Caleb hesitates and Gavin wonders if Caleb even likes such close physical proximity.

“I… I don’t think I… I deserve a… a reward Ma… Master Gavin…” Oh, so that’s what this is about.

“Well. I think you handled yourself really well in there. I think you deserve it.” Caleb looks unsure.

“I… Really?”

“Yes.” Gavin smiles reassuringly.

“Then… I… I’d be happy to a… accept a hug, Master Ga… Gavin”

Gavin manoeuvres himself closer to the passenger seat awkwardly, and gently wraps his arms around Caleb, careful as not to hurt him further. The position is rather uncomfortable for Gavin, the car’s gear stick sticking painfully into his thy, but by the way Caleb leans into Gavin, he really needed the hug, and then Gavin is more than happy to suffer through some minor discomfort for that.

To be honest, Caleb wasn’t the only one that really needed a hug.

[salenakingston]

Another bit of backstory. I’ve really been enjoying writing these snippets. Prompt submissions are still open!

Prompt: None

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death, Corpses/Bodies (minor), Cannibalism (minor)

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 4,273 words

“I’m surprised you saw someone so new to the complex.”

“It is rare indeed, but there’s something peculiar about him.”

“Yes, I noticed that too.”

“And your thoughts?”

“He isn’t a greater risk than any of the other agents.”

“This won’t be the only time he appears.”

“I know, but because he is not a threat, or has proven what he is capable of, it is left to simpler decisions for now.”

“If I may interject.”

“Yes?”

“I might be able to help.”

“You have a plan? Why the interest in him?”

“It’s part of my job to assess new agents. Besides, you’ve never seen anyone connected to me before. I’ve noticed some quirks of my own. This plan is not without consequence, but may be an efficient way to learn more about him.”

“Very well. Let’s hear it.”

----

Malceum paced his small room, his mind racing ever since he had returned. He hated that she had been right in her own assessment. He had insisted she allowed him to give her a ‘proper’ physical, checking how her body was currently against everything that was listed in her records. He wondered if it was to prove a point, or for entertainment, that she granted his request. She had been compliant through the entire process, obeying every instruction he offered.

Part of him wondered why she changed her tune so quickly, when she had the confidence to mouth off to him before. How was it that the mention of one woman could make her flip a switch? It didn’t make any sense, just like her own assessment. Everything matched up with her records.

A body that was functioning, but only just enough. Every piece of her seemed to have some kind of problem. The beast seemed to entertain him further, having taken a seat next to her bed so they could discuss some treatment options. Mistake number one was suggesting options of a magic-based nature. Since the moment he’d walked into her room, she never raised his voice to him. Sure, she offered him plenty of sass, but not anything above her acceptive tone. The animal finally began to show its fangs, quite literally. Her tone grew sharp, growling echoed in her voice.

“Absolutely not,” she had said. Why? Even though the surgeon was confident in his skills, he knew based solely on facts that magic could offer more than just his bare hands. Who would want traditional means over something like that? Ok, if she was going to make such a fuss about it, then best not to revisit the subject. Either that or press her another time.

There had to be some kind of solution. That’s what he kept telling himself.

Mistake number two was trying to negotiate a further treatment plan. Anything he tried to prescribe to her was something she had already tried, or was shot down. “I already make use of the oxygen tank whenever I am in here or on down time. Too many drugs will either mess with my senses, or make it so I will have to take an extended leave from my work. Neither I am willing to accept,” she had said then. She was so damn stubborn.

He had half a mind to discharge her from work anyways, but he feared her. And he feared his employer. She didn’t seem like someone who would lash out at him, but her short temper and growing frustration could fester, putting him in the line of fire.

He had to save his own hide, even though he didn’t know why he bothered.

In the end, he cleared her just like the rest of them.

And that left him here, pacing, wondering if he had made the right decision.

His racing mind wasn’t doing the headache he had developed any favors. His lack of sleep was nothing new, but extended sessions always took a toll on him. Whenever he did sleep, nightmares were there to greet him. There was no safe haven for him, not even in a place as protected as the Whitegale Estate.

A knocking at his door guided him back to reality, “Y-Yes?”

He couldn’t see who was on the other side, as he kept his door locked. It was one of the reasons that kept him from getting close to the other personnel he worked with. It kept him from being a danger to those around him, and kept them from seeing the mess of a human being he had become. It was a gentle voice, probably one of the nurses. She had given another knock on the door, probably just to make sure he knew she was still there, “Mr. Whitegale is looking for you.”

Again? So soon? Why? Had Salena blabbed to him about their discussion? One hand moved to his head, the pounding growing worse from the onslaught of questions. He won’t know until he gets there, and he could not keep his employer waiting, “T-Than-nk y-you. I’ll be t-the-ere so-oon.” He could hear her footsteps leaving the door, leaving him alone once more.

Well, as alone as he could ever be. He would never be truly alone.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he was standing still before he found the will to make his way to the door. The halls were empty, and one look outside the window showed why. Night blanketed the sky, the only light coming from the moon and stars. This just made him question more. He couldn’t have been isolating himself for that long. Why would his employer want to see him at such a late hour? Had someone been brought in late? Then why single him out?

And why allow him to come on his own time? No one else had come to bring his attention back towards the summon.

Malceum’s eyes fell on the door standing between him and the man on the other side. He had done his best to get his trembling hands to calm, swallowing down his nervousness. Alexander had not been unfair to him so far, in fact the man had been rather generous. There was no reason to believe that would change now. Hand grasped at the knob, turning, and then he stepped into the office.

Alexander sat behind a paper filled desk, two chairs sitting at the far side of where he was. Their eyes met upon his entrance, door closing behind him. He moved his hands together, doing his best to mask the shaking that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. If it wasn’t out of nervousness, then it had something to do with him.

“Malceum. Thank you for coming. I know this seems rather sudden. I wanted to start with thanking you for taking care of Salena. I know she can be hard to handle, but she means well.”

“N-No pr-robl-lem. I-It’s my j-job-b to t-tak-ke ca-are of th-hos-se y-you s-sen-nd to me.”

“Yes, I am aware, but she updated me on the talk you had.” Of course she had. Why would he have expected otherwise? He couldn’t help the way his eyes lowered at that statement, Alexander noticing the change in expression. If he wasn’t so tired, he was sure the older man would have given a chuckle, “You have nothing to worry about. A lot of this is new for you, and she’s a rather special case. Just give her some time, she’ll grow on you.”

D-Doub-bt it-t.

“Anyways, the reason I called for you is because something has come up.”

“D-Did y-you-ur w-wif-fe see me a-ag-gain?”

“Not this time.” No? Then why him? Was this some kind of medical emergency? He could hear the shuffling sound of more papers, a few laid out in front of him, as if he were looking over some kind of list. He looked up to the surgeon soon after, “I have a mission that I would like for you to go on.”

“Me? A-Are y-yo-ou s-sur-re?”

“I know it’s outside of your job requirements, but you were asked for specifically.” Asked for? What? Who would want him to come along for anything? Was this something that would need someone of his medical skills? The questions wouldn’t stop coming every time the older man spoke. He couldn’t seem to comprehend why anyone would want him. He didn’t even know anybody, as he had purposefully isolated himself.

He couldn’t keep silent, “W-Who a-ask-ked for m-me?”

“I did.”

Both men turned their heads to the leftmost chair sitting in front of the desk. A familiar figure stood up from where it was sitting, moving so that Malceum could see. Her.

Salena Kingston.

Why?

She was dressed, not in a gown like he had seen when they were in her medical room. This time, she wore something that he could only describe as something out of a fantasy book. He could tell the material was made of leather, sticking tightly against her skin? Fur? She was far too complicated for him to make coherent thoughts.

Salena moved her arm against the top of the chair, leaning against it slightly. He couldn’t help but notice how relaxed compared to when they were in the medical wing. Did she hate it there? He couldn’t blame her, especially with how many times she seemed to wind up there. Her gaze was fixated on him, causing a small shiver to move down his spine, “I am going out hunting. I wanted to see if you would like to come along.”

“H-Hun-nt-ting?”

“I do it every now and then. Sometimes they are prompted by Alexander, but that is not the case. I thought you might like to get out of the estate for a bit.”

Yes.. but why him? He just couldn’t understand it.

He did. Clever little mutt. She knew there was something wrong with his host. This was an attempt to draw him out. That had to be the only reason. He wouldn’t allow it. The headache seemed to grow worse at that moment, a voice in the back of Malceum’s mind being the only thing that kept him from moving his hands to cradle his head, “Don’t you dare. It’s a trick. I will not have you expose me more than you already have. You’re going to go right back to your room, unless you want me to make you suffer more.”

“I-I d-don’t-t th-hin-nk I wo-oul-ld be th-he b-bes-st ch-hoic-ce for s-som-meth-hing-g l-lik-ke t-this-s.”

“I’d be willing to make a deal with you, Sorrowgrave. All I ask is that you come on this one hunt with me. I know Alexander pays you, as he does everyone else. I can pool part of your earnings to the same place my money goes. I can have small shipments of dreamless sleep potions sent to you with this. You wouldn’t have to rely on me if you want them.”

This bitch. She knows what he wants, and he truly does want this relief. He can’t even remember the last time he slept without having a nightmare. He knew either way he was going to suffer. The hollow wouldn’t ever stop until he agreed to surrender his being. The only way he would continue on was getting any small mercy that he could.

“A-Alr-righ-ht.”

Both Salena and Alexander gave a nod, the older man turning his attention to the wolf, “Do you have a place you’ll be going?”

“Yes.” Strange that she mentioned no specifics. Was it not necessary to tell her employer where she was taking them? Guess not giving the accepting nod from Alexander. She moved past him, one hand moving up. It was that same magic she had used before, bigger this time. The opening was large enough for the two of them to move through it. Her head turned enough to catch him in view, “Follow me. This portal is going to put a strain on your body, but you’ll be fine shortly after we arrive on the other side.”

He nods.

She takes the first step through, followed by him. He could feel the strain she was talking about. When he stepped out, it took everything in him not to buckle down under the weight. When his vision refocused, he could see Salena not too far ahead of him. She didn’t have the same strength he did, find her form against the earth. It looked almost as if the very air around her was pushing her down. He should have guessed that if this magic put a strain on the body, then of course she would have it worse than him. But then why travel by these portals in the first place? What was the point?

While she recovered, his eyes moved around the land. He didn’t travel much, but where they came to looked like no place he’d ever seen before. The grass under them looked washed out, bits of dirt poking through in patches. There were trees, though few given it seemed they were along hills. Even this seemed like it was devoid of life. Near death was a good way to describe it.

Finally he could hear Salena getting up onto her feet. She dropped the portal they had come through, pushing towards the top of the hill. It would be best for him to follow her. Her eyes peered over the top, looking down at the base of their hiding place. He could see a stone tower in the distance, small patrols and camps around it. Both men and women were patrolling. Their clothing was rather strange. It was a mixture of white and red. They looked like how crusaders would have been dressed in human history.

Surely they hadn’t gone back in time somehow.

Malceum had barely noticed that Salena had begun sneaking ahead without him. Wait, what was she doing? Why were they here? Why did it look like she was stalking them?

Wait…

Wait!

He only just seemed to notice the sheen of a blade resting at her side. No, not just one blade, two of them. One of her hands was gripping on. Her eyes narrowed creeping closer. He wanted to yell at her, call her back and demand to know what she was planning to do. There was nothing he could do as red bagan to cloud his vision. Blood spilled from the crusaders, her blade, claws, or even her teeth finding ways to ravage them. This wasn’t hunting, it was slaughter.

OH? Seems she’s a murderer just like you are. I’ve changed my mind. Maybe you should go down there and join her.

No. He couldn’t do this. He could say that this time. He wouldn’t risk drawing himself to the surface with her around. He had to do something other than let her continue.

She had been careful up to this point, picking them off one by one. Blood stained her mouth and clothes. She could see him moving down the hill, not paying too much attention to his surroundings. Eyes narrowed as she noticed a scarlet moving behind him. He must have been spotted. Deal with the threat themselves rather than raise the alarm. He watched as she stomped her foot down, but nothing seemed to happen.

Then a gurgling noise rang out behind him. He turned around to see the crusader… impaled on a spike of thick ice, blood dripping down onto him. His body was shaking again, that feeling of a thrill he was missing out on wracking around in his brain. She moved over to him, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t pay attention. He could see that she looked to the side, voices crying out.

They were calling out one thing.

‘Death Knight.’

What did that mean? He wasn’t whatever that was.

He seemed to come back into focus, seeing that Salena had turned on the growing mass. Was she ready to take them all on by herself? Just how much blood was she willing to spill? Taking a tight grip of her wrist, he began to drag her away. She seemed to give him a surprised look, snarling as her lips turned up. He could see another string of magic leave from her hand, the other reaching for a loose part of his duster. She had taken him into her arms, fleeing to the hills.

They managed to lose their attackers, the trembling in his body stopping as they did. He hated that he could still smell iron in the air. Once she was sure the crusaders were gone, he was set down, a bloody corpse being tossed at his feet. Had her magic grabbed one of them? Just what the hell was she playing at? Just what kind of life had he actually landed in joining up with this lot?

He couldn’t stand it any longer.

“W-Wha-at t-the fuck wa-as th-hat?”

“I told you we were going hunting. You weren’t paying attention to what was going on around you. You gave us away.”

“I-I m-mad-de it cle-ear I wa-as not-t t-the b-bes-st for th-his. Y-You j-jus-st mur-rde-ered t-them-m.”

“They deserve it.”

“W-Who a-are-e you to j-jud-dge t-the-em?”

“Someone who has first hand experience with them. I’m far from the first person who despises them.”

“T-Tha-at’s b-bes-side th-he p-poin-nt!” Why couldn’t she seem to get it through her thick skull?

“Then you would rather I kill someone that doesn’t deserve it?”

What?! Was she serious?

“K-Kil-ll no o-one!”

“I can’t do that.” She… She what?

“W-Wha-at are you t-talk-king a-abo-out? Y-Yes you c-can-n!”

He noticed her eyes narrow down again. There was that shiver again. How was it that both women he interacted with seemed to have eyes that bore down past his skin? He almost felt himself take a step back, “No. I can’t. If I stopped killing, I would drive myself insane.” Had she really killed that much? Was she so much like him that she got a thrill out of it? He hated this. He hated her. He hated that she bribed him into coming along on this.

“I don’t see why you are making a fuss with me. I thought you would need something like this.”

Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes back at her. It didn’t seem to have the same effect that her’s did on him, “Y-You d-don-n’t kn-now me.”

“You’re right Sorrowgrave, I don’t. However, it’s part of my job to keep tabs on the new recruits, and that includes you. You have little ticks. You obviously don’t get enough sleep, someone with a stutter is not too worrisome, but you’re constantly twitching. I know you’re not nervous, otherwise you wouldn’t have stood up to me like you did. You’re acting more like an addict that hasn’t had his fix in a long time.”

“H-How-w w-woul-ld y-you kn-now?”

“Because I was just like you, Sorrowgrave. You will drive yourself crazy if you continue on like this.”

He wasn’t sure if it was humor in a fighter trying to give medical advice to a surgeon, or her lack of logic that made him relax slightly, “Y-You-u’re s-supp-pose-ed to d-dis-scour-rage ad-ddic-cts f-fro-om th-heir-r v-vic-ces.”

“My own vice, unnatural as it is, can not be fixed. I have to hunt. I’m sorry you don’t see it the same way. I thought feeding your’s would be a temporary fix until I could figure out a better solution.”

“W-Why-y do you c-car-re?”

“Everyone can see that something is wrong with you. No one knows to what extent, but they can see the signs.” He could feel her hands reaching for the mask he wore across his mouth. His hands shot up, covering her own to keep her from removing it. She almost seemed to be smirking as he did this, “You see? I stand a good chance of helping you, all you have to do is let me.”

“Y-You w-won-n’t let-t me do th-he s-sam-me.”

“You did help me though. Your stitching is far better than my own, and I have no doubt you’ll be seeing a lot more of me. I’m one of Alexander’s best for a reason, but that means a greater risk. I’ll need someone like you.”

He hated this. He just wanted to go back to the estate. He wasn’t supposed to bond with anyone. They were a weakness, or even a target. The hollow made it clear he already had an interest in her, and this was certainly not helping. If he had control of his host, Malceum had no doubt he would be jittering with joy.

Was it worth trusting her though?

No one had ever shown him this sort of backwards kindness. She offered him mercy, and now here he was in her position, spitting it back in her face. Why?

Why did it have to be like this?

In his mental crisis, he had barely noticed that Salena was trying to remove his mask again. He honestly wasn’t sure why he felt his hands go lax, allowing her to do so. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on first glance, but a spike in his headache made his lips curl up. Nothing but sharp teeth, just like her own. Her hands moved up again, forcing his mouth open. It was almost as if she could tell this was unnatural.

There was nothing special about him. He was as human as they come. Someone else had forced him to do this to himself.

And he didn’t take kindly to the impromptu investigation of his host. The pain in his head grew worse. It was as if the hollow was unwinding himself in his host’s mind, sticking thousands of wires through his brain. Mouth shut down along the beast’s arm, head pulling back to tear at the flesh.

Her head moved down, staring at him. There was that flicker she had seen before. Her arm raised in his grip, not allowing the shade or hair to block her view, “Caught you.”

Shit.

Why was she so still? Why wasn’t she bothered? He was a freak. He was trying to peel her own flesh away from her body. Why wasn’t she trying to stop him? Why didn’t she kill him like she was doing just a few moments ago? Why couldn’t he just let go? Let me go!

And he listened. Teeth removed themselves, his form staggering away from her. All she was trying to do was help him, and he had bitten her. She stepped closer to him, her hands moving to grip his arms. She lowered themselves down to the grass. He could hear her speaking, but couldn’t bring his eyes up to meet her own, “Sorrowgrave, let me help you. Feed the demon as it were, and let’s go back.”

She knew about him, but not what he was. How was it that she was on point? His eyes moved over to the body she dragged along with them. That trembling came back, and his stomach suddenly felt so empty. He scooted closer to the body, teeth sinking in. He could feel a hand moving along his back as he ate, hating himself every moment that passed.

Another portal opened, the familiar halls of the estate greeting them.

Again she fell to the floor, but this time he moved over to help her up.

Their bloody hands met one another.

They seemed to be standing in front of a door, one he had seen briefly in passing. He could see the halls leading to the medical wing from where they were standing. Wait… why were they here instead of heading to his room? He found his gaze up at her, a small portal at her side. Like before, she reached in, pulling out a familiar green vial. No. Don’t.

He will just break it again.

“I promised you I would get you a steady shipment of these, and I plan to keep that deal. You came with me. Start with this one for now.”

He reached out to take it from her, knowing what the outcome would be. If he didn’t try to take it, he would take over and do it for him. As his hand drew closer, she took a firm grip of his wrist. What the hell was she doing now? Her mouth lowered to the top of the vial, popping the opening with her teeth. The hand gripping his wrist moved up, forcing his mouth open again, the other hand pouring the liquid down his throat.

She knew. She knew what he would do, and acted accordingly. If he wasn’t suddenly feeling so tired, he would have thanked her.

He could vaguely feel her taking him into his arms. She adjusted him so she could open the door they were standing near. It was a furnished room, one that he couldn’t see very well with the darkness of night. One thing he could make out was a bed, one that he was being lowered into. This wasn’t his bed… so where were they? He would have to ask her when he woke. His mind began to fade, growing blank for the first time in years.

She watched him drift, finding her hand moving through his gray hairs before turning to leave. He’s had it rough, so sleeping in her bed would probably do him some good rather than the sub quality of the ones the medical personnel use. She quietly shut the door behind her, moving down the hall to a very familiar room.

The new door swung open, Alexander still sitting at his desk. Shutting the door behind her, she took a seat in front of him, “We have much to discuss.”

[namelessthirst]

Lost and Found

[Part 3 of the human/monster series! This took me a bit to finish, felt a little burnout toward the end, but I hope it didn’t end up sounding clunky. :P

Werewolf!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader, and minor Ghost!Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Ao3

3k and some change

Childhood Friends to Lovers, Relationship Building, Still no real shipping I promise we’ll get there eventually!]

It was surprisingly easy, to settle into this new home.

Well, it wasn't his home, Katsuki reminded himself. Even as he stirred warmly in unfamiliar blankets, the morning light peering through the window painting his clean hair a sparkling gold. His nose was filled with someone not of his own, but it was getting there.

You lay tight under the covers, wrapped snugly against him, your heads laid close till nose tips kissed. This had become habit over the last few days.

As had the morning ritual of wiping his smell off on you, pressing cheeks and face to wake you. The smell of the bath having worn in place of his own scent, now untainted by dirt and struggle.

The room had slowly started to take on the effect, your bed and toys primarily.

It might have taken longer, under normal circumstances, but he'd gotten a bit... over eager, after a small mishap when you'd gone out with your mother on some weekend errands.

He hated having to stay behind, but he couldn't well join you- between his clearly inhuman appearance, the secret of his presence, and his still aching foot.

It wasn't so bad the first time, just boring, though it had given him time to investigate your room without knowing you were watching him limp around.

But after a bit...He had to eat down the whines that tried to slip out each time you said your mother was taking you somewhere.

He'd begun keeping close to the window, listening for the strange sound of the machine you left in, for its door and your voice. Each time he caught it, he raced to the bedroom door, sitting and waiting for your arrival, your steps up the stairs and down the hall, his tail a whirl.

It was often that you brought something home from your little outings with your mother- sometimes something interesting from the floor of the craft store that had fallen from a package or damaged item; a flower or pretty leaf plucked from the ground somewhere; or a treat you'd stolen from the grocery bag to bring up to him.

Once, however, you brought something else.

In you came, happy and carrying some interesting little shiny thing that you found on the ground somewhere, and the distinct smell of some strange mutt.

His shift toward you stalled, as did his tail, his nose wrinkling in the unfamiliar odor.

At his barking request, you mentioned that on the way home, someone was walking their dog and it was very cute and you had to stop and pet it!

He'd quickly shoved you toward the bathroom, demanding you wash up and get rid of that smell. In the meantime, he might have gotten a tad worked up and fiercely rubbed every ounce of his mark on your things.

You were given the same treatment, once you'd returned cleaner with the smell of soap on you. For once it was preferable.

It was then when Katsuki started to look a bit more closely at why he treated you like he did. He didn't make it very far, treading on things he didn't quite know how to name. It didn't stop him from pressing on as he had been, relishing the morning greetings, your company and growing familiarity, how sometimes you needed him even while he was vulnerable and weakened.

A stray nightmare, wrinkling your brow and drawing distressed pleas from you in your sleep, the fear never having long to sink in before his ears caught your discomfort and he sleepily tucked you closer, scratching his claws in your hair where your ears should be, just as his mom did.

When the distant thunder came one night, your hands clamped over your ears as you hid under the covers and curled in tight to yourself, his chin nestled atop your head and his arms wrapped protectively around you as he fought the irrational urge to growl and snap at the flashing sky.

The afternoon when you came home from 'Sunday School' with torn panty-hose and a raw cheek from where you skidded across the gravel parking lot in your attempt to run eagerly to the car, eyes puffy from abandoned tears. Your knee had already been treated, the smell of antiseptic not quite masking the scent of your blood. He'd sat you down in your puffy white dress and didn't let you up for a good while until he was satisfied with his cleaning on your cheek. You'd fussed just as he did when his mom took care of his scrapes with her warm tongue.

Even the little moments, when you were tired and would lean on him, ready for naptime; when he'd spend the minutes it took you to really wake up in the morning picking blanket fuzz from your hair; how you started to pick up on his habits, startling him when you started to rub up on him just as he'd done.

The first time you called him by his favorite nickname.

But even as long and gentle as the days were, it had to come to an end at some point.

You and Katsuki were play-fighting after he pouted at your suggestion of playing dress-up and you asked him what doggies did for fun.

He was sure to be careful, minding his claws and teeth as he tussled about with you. He still couldn't resist catching your cheek against his teeth, not quite biting down, but the nip still left slight dents in your soft skin.

When he sat perched atop you, having had no intention of letting you win, his tail beat against you as he reveled in his victory.

"Suki ge'off!" You whined.

You whined louder when his response was to flip all your hair forward into your face, kicking your feet against the floor in a huff.

He did finally let you up though, offering you a hand from where he stood crouched beside you. He would come to regret it not long after.

You took it, but not without pause.

"Your foot!"

His ear twitched, squeezing your hand tight as he realized he'd let slip the truth.

His foot had been better for several days. The act of keeping the limp and letting you help hold him up had been just too appealing. He didn't want to leave.

He said little while you began planning how to sneak out with him, of how to go find his family.

A backpack filled with goodies to eat on the way, a flashlight, and of course the pretty porcelain bowl to have him eat out of.

He could have just used his hands, but didn't question your motives, more distracted by the anxiety that plagued him.

You both were just pups. Wandering out into the night alone in search of both comfort, for him, and danger, for you.

Would his parents have even stuck around this long? Would they have left, assuming he'd become some beast's snack somewhere? Would they have left when they caught his scent so close to humans? Were they angry with him? Disappointed?

The grip of your hand as you stole away with him in the night only alleviated the pressure some, but it was enough.

It'd been shockingly easy for you to slip out, using the door furthest from your parent's room once they'd retired for the night. Not even a peep, or a light turned on in your wake. Katsuki really didn't care for how absent they were.

The cold earth under his bare feet felt almost new, after having been tucked away inside for so long. You'd tried to suggest he wear shoes, or socks at least, but this was natural for him.

It felt good to be out in the night air again, even if he usually only felt it from the breeze carried into his family's nest.

He couldn't run like he usually would, not with you in tow, but progress was progress. You'd hoped aloud that you'd be able to find his family before dawn came, unknowing of his lack of worry over that detail at least.

Deeper and deeper you walked, your hands cold once he'd abandoned them in favor of moving low to the ground, keeping his nose out for any trail he could pick up. The light of the moon through the breaks in the canopy your only guide for now, trying to save the flashlight until you really needed it, and at Katsuki's urging that it could attract unwanted attention.

You couldn't see the edge of the forest anymore, where you'd stepped in from the tip of your yard. Yet, strangely, you felt at peace. It was chilly, sure, but the sound of the wind and the game of peeka-boo you played with the sky was relaxing, enchanting even. You almost never got to stay out after dark.

Your eyes were glued to the sky, even as you followed closely to Katsuki, so lulled by the sparkle of stars that you didn't notice the light spreading wide from between the trees.

"I thought I said to keep the light stick off?" Katsuki huffed, nose to the ground.

Your head snapped to him, now catching the glint in your own eyes. Your hands gripped onto the white cotton on his back and he looked up, following your gaze to the source of light that was most definitely not you.

A lantern, flickering and bright, once held aloft by a gentle hand, lowered. You caught the twinkle of emerald eyes.

"It’s you!"

Katsuki's growl stuttered at your outburst, his back pressed close to you with his fangs and claws bared in warning.

Izuku peered at the children caught in the glow of his light, mouth agape and brows furrowed.

You tugged on Katsuki's shirt with a smile, "I saw him at the craft store! Mommy said I made him up, but I didn't, see? He's still flying and everything!"

Your rambling earned only a confused and vaguely disgruntled glare from him, while Izuku inched just a bit closer to look curiously.

You really were the same little girl that spotted him that day. Only this time, you held close not to your mother's leg, but instead to...to a werewolf pup?

"How... How can you even see me?" he muttered to himself. Humans weren't supposed to see him. You were clearly human, even with the pup next to you, lowly explaining just what Izuku was.

"A ghost?"

The pup grunted as you continued to stare wide-eyed at Izuku, clearly unperturbed by the news.

"What are you doing out here?" Now wasn't the time to evaluate just how it was that you could see him, not with two kids wandering the forest alone. "It's dangerous here at night!"

Katsuki huffed, "Duh, obviously."

"We're looking for his mommy and daddy!" you chirped, Katsuki giving you an incredulous look.

Were you really just blurting out all your business? To a stranger? Let alone a ghost?

Ghosts were supposedly unpredictable, and often easy to upset. They were not something you were supposed to just...chat with!

Izuku was well aware of the tales told of him and his, and was just as surprised at your comfort in answering.

"His...parents."

"Yeah! Have you seen them?"

"We don't need his help!" Katsuki barked.

"But what if he's seen them? Then we could get you home faster!" you reasoned. Surely it couldn't hurt.

Izuku was already quite unwilling to let you two alone, even if it meant following in secret. Luckily, he wouldn't have to.

"I have...I've seen some adult werewolves recently, yes." He started in the direction of where he'd seen them last in his wanderings. He paused when he only started to hear one set of footsteps follow, seeing the werewolf pup giving him a cold stare even through the dim.

He obviously didn't trust him. But with your goading, hand waving at him, empty and chilled, he came.

Izuku felt the corners of his mouth turn up at the scene, more so when you wiggled your hand up at his empty one. He set his feet on the grass, deciding it'd be more polite to walk with the living, and it let his hand low enough to take yours in it as he led you both on, the light in his other hand cutting the darkness easily.

Between his guiding light and Katsuki's sensitive nose, it took not long at all to catch the snarls of startled werewolves.

Katsuki shoved in front, meeting the noise with his mimicry before the adult's cut out abruptly.

Out they came from the brush, eyes wide and cautious, Katsuki's parents.

His throat tilted into a whine at the sight, slipping from your hand and bounding eagerly into their embrace, tail a blur. Kisses and light inspections were given, for once all without a fuss from their son.

It took a grinning giggle from you as you watched him so gleefully lean into their petting for the parents to notice once more, that their son was not the only one who came to them.

"I see you didn't find us alone," His mother said as he finally began to wiggle free of the affection after catching you watching, "Thank you, stranger."

Mitsuki knew quite well of the usual temperamentality of spirits, though she didn't see any of it in the eyes of this one.

Izuku smiled timidly at her, "It uh, it's no trouble," he said, earning a grateful look from the father.

Just as Katsuki came back to you, Mitsuki perked up, "We were so worried. We found your trail leading toward humans and...Well. We shouldn't have, you clearly did just fine on your own."

Your gaze was pulled from the affectionate smile on Katsuki's face, instead being held out toward his mother in a large, clawed hand. She squished your cheeks and turned your face here and there, "I won't deny you your treat, not after all this, but you can't eat her all at once, alright? You'll make yourself sick."

Your eyes grew wide, the feeling of your stomach dropping pulling a hissing gasp from your throat.

Izuku had a similar look of horror on his own face, mouth agape.

Katsuki looked between you and his mother, having known well what bringing you near them would result in, "Mom!"

"Really dear, how did you get her this far so well? There's barely a scratch on her!" The look in Mitsuki's eyes had your own tearing up, your grip tight in Izuku's hand.

"But Mom-!"

"No, listen, I know you've been through an ordeal right now, but I'm not budging on it. If you eat too much you'll puke all night and it'll be wast-!" Mitsuki drew her hand back from the snapping jaws of her son, looking on in shock as he pressed close to you, arms tight and fangs bared with a rumble to his voice far from the playful one he'd used before.

"She's not food!" The salty sting of your tears in his nose made him shift restlessly closer, "She's mine and I'm keeping her!"

Even as you stayed fearfully hidden in his embrace, you couldn't help but whip your head to him, just as startled by his sudden claim.

Things were moving so fast suddenly, Izuku could barely keep up, eyes darting between you, the pup, and his parent's. At least the threat of death had dissipated, snuffed out quickly by Katsuki's insistent display. It was endearing, if not a bit misguided.

Your thoughts were spoken for you, Mitsuki's tone soft, "Katsuki...She can't stay."

"We aren't going to eat her!"

She put her hands up, shifting back from his defensive posturing, "I understand. She won't be a meal. But we still can't keep her."

He relaxed only a bit, even with his brows furrowed, "Why not? She's mine and I'll take care of her!" It was so simple to him. You'd stay, and he'd care for you, protect you, treat you as your own family should have. Something else nagged at him, in the back of his mind, that felt uncomfortable to examine just yet, but still it served as a distant sense that he had to keep you close.

"Honey...Her home is with the humans. That's where she belongs."

Izuku looked aside, knowing well how true it was, and what it meant for you two.

"Suki?"

Mouth pulled down tight, he looked at you, his cheek damp where you nuzzled into him, "I can't stay. I gotta go home too. Mommy and Daddy would miss me a lot if I left, so..."

Katsuki hid his wobbling lip against your hair, the rush and emotions piled high from tonight and the past few days catching up with him at last.

"So, we'll just have play dates! Okay? We can play and-"

"No. Human...Our kind don't stick around in the same place often. We are only here now, because our pup was lost. We'll be leaving soon..."

Now it was your turn to look at the mother, a begging expression that betrayed it's hope of reconsideration.

"Dear, why don't we give them some space, to say goodbye?" The fathers voice was gentle, quiet and sorrowful in understanding.

Mitsuki nodded, following her mate's pull back beyond the hedge, knowing well their son wouldn't speak truthfully with an audience.

Izuku drifted off behind a tree, trying to be just as polite even as he hesitated to stray far, knowing well he'd need to lead you home.

For a moment, there was just the wind. The cooling autumn breeze and warm arms.

Katsuki knew how his family moved, following the food and season as they pleased. It wasn't unlike your own situation, not that you'd ever explained it, holding onto the hope that this time...Maybe this time you'd get to stay with the bond you'd made.

"You won't forget me, right?" Your words were muffled by his desperate rubbing, trying so hard to keep you his even if he couldn't keep you truly.

"I won't. You won't forget me either," though it came out as a demand, you nodded in agreement all the same.

The goodbye wasn't nearly long enough, but you had to part ways at some point. He knew this, even through the ache of looking over his shoulder, watching your teary smile disappear behind the brush as he followed his parents away. His hands clutched tight around the bowl you'd shoved into his chest, your claim that he should keep it since it he liked it so much barely making it out past your sniffling. He thought it silly, how you assumed it was the bowl and not the offerings placed in it. But it didn't matter, he'd keep it all the same.

And when he finally made it back to the hide, being put down to rest for a while before he'd leave here with his family, he was thankful that no one would know how much he cried that night.

You weren't in much of a better state, your feet dragging across the damp ground as Izuku led you back toward home.

Eventually you'd given up, letting your tired grip pull him to a stop to question what was wrong, before you tried listlessly to climb onto him, a silent plea to be held.

He obliged, feeling much for your sorry situation. Besides, the trip would be faster when he could float along.

His arms weren't warm, but they were solid enough and you were content to lay your head against his pale cloak. Your tears wouldn't stain at least, a benefit of his clothes not being technically real.

Sneaking back into your home was far easier with a ghost's help, you found. Izuku easily opened your bedroom window, once you'd pointed it out, and carried you in through it. No need for hoping you'd remembered to leave the back door unlocked when you left.

Getting you ready for rest was a quiet process. Taking off your muddy shoes and setting your backpack aside, letting you know softly that he would get you a cup of water as you sat desolate on your bed.

By the time he returned you were dressed neatly for bed, though tonight the loom of empty space in it sat cold in you.

You drank, taking hold of his covering as you did, "Stay?"

Izuku was no stranger to loneliness, the ache in his chest familiar as he read it all over your face.

So he did.

It was different from sharing with Katsuki, the bed edging on too small for him, but he seemed to mind it little while he stroked your hair, easing the much less emotional ache in your head.

"Whats your name?"

"It's...Izuku."

He barely caught your name from you as you drifted off, heavy with deja vu.

In the waning light of the moon, you didn't dream that night.

[nightly1602]

“You’re a fool for trying.” He murmured sadly while his fingers drummed along the cafe table. It was only them there. The barista had departed in the back preparing to close the place down. Sounds of washing dishes pulled their ears away from the ambient drone of a singer and an acoustic guitar playing on one of the crackling speakers.

“I had to. You of all people know that.” She smirked in defeat as her hands wrapped around the coffee mug, her thumbs drawing circles along the back of it. “They wanted a scapegoat and they damn well got it, for fuck's sake.” She sighed, her calm demeanour slipping. A small group of people talking loudly, passed by the large storefront window dressed in large warm looking jackets. The air puffed out from their lips as they jovially broke out in beaming smiles and loud laughs. 

She could feel her nerves starting to fray, could feel the way her ears whined at their boisterousness, could feel the way her jaw tensed as the thing in her chest begged to rip and tear away the anger she felt.

“Hey.” He caught her, gently grabbing at one of her hands and twining their fingers to keep her anchored. “Easy there.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” She barked out pulling her hand away roughly. 

“I’m just trying to help.” He explained calmly, keeping a steady umber gaze on her silver eyes. 

She was the one to break eye contact first, letting her hues come back to the soft oaky colour as they focused in on the wallpaper’s diamond-shaped design, counting lowly under her breath. He could see the tension in her neck and could feel it rolling off of her body like a toxic cloud. She had gathered her usually let loose long dirty blonde hair into a high ponytail, showing off the sharp line of her cheekbones and strong neck.

“Don’t let her feel alone.”

He could hear the tears threatening to fall. She clasped her hands together fiddling with the iron engagement ring.

“Don’t let them break her, Ben.”

“I won’t let that happen, Tori. I promise.”

She wipes her mouth before she shakily takes the ring off. “I won’t be the reason they break her.” She murmured softly, before placing the ring in the middle of the table. “I’m the reason she is in this mess. We should have listened to you.”

Ben ran his fingers through his curly velvet black hair, letting out a dark sigh. “You and I both know that’s bullshit. You two don’t need to listen to me, you never had to. It’s them that need to listen, to see that you aren’t the monster they think you and your people are.” He took a single digit and placed it over the ring, sliding it roughly back to her. “Tori, Lana loves you more than anything in this world. She’s my fucking sister. Wolf or not, you’re the one she chose.”

“But your father-”

“Fuck that Hunter piece of trash.” He snarled lowly.

“Ben, you can’t say that. You’re a hunter  too.” She whispered doing her best not to make eye contact. She knew as soon as she did, he’d win.

“I am, but I’m not him or his old way of thinking,” Ben replied seriously, leaning back in his chair and gnawing at his bottom lip. “Please Tori, if you leave, he wins. Please help me prove to them that my society needs to change. Do it for Lana.” 

“What am I going to do?” She asked rubbing at her temples. “Waltz right in there and demand they release my hunter fiancee? Make them see that I’m not going to tear them apart if they don’t?” Her voice started to rise and he did his best to get her to quiet down. She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m a threat to your kind, Ben. I don’t want our last memory together to be her seeing me get executed by your fucking father.” 

“There are others that support your cause-”

“Wait,” She interrupted, letting her nose pinpoint on a familiar scent of expensive cologne and heavy cigars. The ominous sound of leather boots clacking against the asphalt of the back alleyway made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She swiped the ring as she rose from the table and pressed the iron piece into the man’s hand. “We need to leave. Now.”

 Ben slipped a five-dollar bill onto the table, before tucking his hair into a beanie and began to button up his overcoat jacket as they made to exit the cafe through the front door.

A revolver’s barrel met Tori’s face first. The hunter cocked the hammer back with a resonating click, making the wolf before him raise her hands up in surrender. “Get back in the cafe.” He ordered with a snarl.

“Now Jerry,” Ben began, stepping protectively in front of Tori.

“Shut up, Traitor.” Jerry spat while flicking his gun to the chairs they had just gotten up from. 

The sounds of the Barista calling out in surprise was cut off by a silenced pistol going off. A thud of a body falling to the floor and the sounds of crashing plates made the wolf gulp in fear. She needed to think quick or she was going to die. 

“I’m not a traitor. Just doing the right thing.” Ben replied with his hands up. “You and I both know Lana didn’t do anything to deserve the treatment she’s been getting.”

“Of course she did. She fucked that mutt!” He seethed, aiming the gun again at Tori.

“Numerous times, if I might add.” She spat hotly, making Jerry’s nostrils flare. This was her ticket. “Do you know how many times she asked me to bite her? How badly she wanted to be mine for good?”

“Shut the fuck up or so help me I will blow your brains out of your mutt fucking skull.” He warned taking a step closer to her while his hand shook the gun like an earthquake. “I swear to holy God, I will kill you where you stand.” 

“That’s how mates work, you know?” She continued as she felt Ben warily watch her, seeing the plan coming up in her mind. The leather boots stalked closer from the back kitchen. “She wanted to be mine. The head hunter's daughter wanted to belong to a wolf!” 

She just had enough time to slam his hands with her wrist, making the revolver go off. The bullet ricocheted off of an espresso machine before slamming into the glass. Ben moved quickly to throw Jerry to the ground before slamming a fist straight into his nose. He kicked him for good measure while he looked back to the crashing noise of someone sprinting for the main room.

Tori launched a table toward the doors of the back room, making the doors swing open and hit someone roughly. She had the right mind to duck as a bullet whizzed past her head.

“Let’s go!” Ben bellowed as he vaulted out of the broken storefront and sprinted into the cold mid-winter air and into his blacked-out jeep. He fumbled the keys for a millisecond before slamming them into the ignition and starting up the vehicle. He threw it in reverse, hoping to make an easier escape for Tori who was pinned down by pistol fire.

She ducked another bullet as the leather boots burst from the back kitchen doors, letting them flap behind him. One of his pages scrambled in after with blood dripping down his forehead and holding tightly to his abdomen.

The smell of Cigar and cologne slammed into Tori’s nostrils as she let herself shift almost too naturally while she skidded out of the shop. The silver black wolf sprinted out of sight, running for her life, while the jeep took off after her.

“I’m sorry, sir.” His page murmured through a deep gasp. “I tried to clip her.”

“Don’t worry about it, son.” The head hunter hummed stoically. “Help our dear, Jerry, up from the floor.”

“Yes, sir.” The young man winced while he made his way to the hunter clasping his nose and groaning loudly. 

Henri watched the night sky from the broken storefront, seeing the stars shine brightly and a crescent moon accompanying him. The sounds of distant sirens peeled off into the cold air. 

“Let’s go, boys.” He commanded with a sigh while he reached into his jacket and produced a Cuban cigar from his inner pocket. He placed it in between his weathered lips before sucking in a deep long breath to ignite it. His young page supported Jerry, lifting him from the floor and led the way to the back alley.

He took another quick moment to look at the surrounding damage of the cafe. It felt like the perfect representation of what his life felt like. He took a long puff before blowing out the smoke. Just hours ago he had tortured his own daughter and now he was to kill his own son for treason. 

“Fucking fleabag.” Henri hissed as he walked out through the backway of the cafe.

[vvigilantes]

Meeting the Neighbors

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader Words: 4k Summary: You've never seen your neighbor from down the hall, but that's all about to change. Warnings: A few mentions of blood and injury, nothing too graphic. A/N: My first Frank fic! I had a lot of fun writing this tbh, so expect more Frank in the future.

@sweetvengeancee + if you’d like to be tagged in work, send me a message and tell me which list you want to be on! 

His big, brown eyes were almost pleading as you stared each other down, neither of you making a sound. You knew you shouldn’t, you really did, but as you continued to look at one another you could feel your professional resolve crumbling, your usually iron will beginning to bend ever so slightly. It couldn’t hurt; it would be just one night after all...right?

“So, you gonna take him home or what?” You jumped at the sound of Paulina’s voice and spun on your heel, trying not to look like you were just contemplating grand theft fido during the last few minutes of your shift. Your friend raised her eyebrows at you when you didn’t answer right away, snorting when the terrier mix behind you whined at the sudden lack of attention.

“I mean- maybe. I shouldn’t. But he’s just so small, and I feel bad that he has to spend the night in a kennel.” You sighed, looking back to the scrappy little mutt that was brought in to the vet clinic earlier in the day. Strays weren’t a rarity, but you felt for the pup who had been running around the streets of Hell’s Kitchen before a good samaritan managed to catch him. You were pretty sure he’d been the runt of the litter and that alone tugged on your very vulnerable, animal loving heartstrings.

“Come on, you and I both know you’re taking him home.” The brunette knew you well, both of you starting as techs at the same time the year before and becoming fast friends. Like you she had a soft spot about a mile wide when it came to strays- particularly the ones that were dumped on the clinic’s doorstep either because the owner couldn’t pay for their treatment, was moving, or simply didn’t want them anymore. That was how she’d ended up with her cat, so the fact that she was playing devil’s advocate really wasn’t a surprise.

You blew out a breath, looking back towards the occupied kennel and the way the dog looked up at you hopefully, his whole body wriggling with the force of his tail wagging. “I’ll go talk to Beth.” Beth was the head vet at your little operation, and while it really should be frowned upon for employees to take home animals, she didn’t mind so long as they didn’t have a home or a person looking for them.

You told her you just wanted to make sure he was okay through the night since he’d had a stressful day, but both you and her knew you made a terrible foster parent.

                                                              ~

“Make yourself at home, boy,” You smiled as you opened the kennel door and sat off to the side to let him come out at his own pace. Your apartment was small, but you did your best to make it cozy; the name of the day was comfort after a long day of getting covered in the bodily fluids of other people’s pets.

The puppy -who still needed a name, now that you thought about it- stuck his head out of the carrier and looking around curiously, his fuzzy little ears pricking forwards. He was a precocious little thing and it took all of five minutes for him to leave the confines of the plastic kennel and go bounding around the apartment, sniffing everything in sight. You chuckled and stood up, following him around to make sure he didn’t get into anything he was supposed to on his little adventure.

He was pretty cute, you supposed. In that scruffy, scoundrel way that made you think of the dog from Oliver and Company...You sighed, puffing out your cheeks. Who were you kidding- you were probably going to keep him and you knew it.

Half an hour had passed and you were digging around your fridge when you heard the first thump. You didn’t think too much about it; your building was fairly large, with a lot of tenants. Mysterious bumps in the night were just another feature as far as you were concerned.

You grabbed a fork from a drawer and hopped up onto the counter to continue watching your new house guest, a container of takeout for company.

The second thump caused you to lift your head, eyebrows creasing. It sounded closer and...heavier. It’s just the neighbors, Maybe Tom brought home a date or something? You hoped in vain, looking towards your balcony. The curtains were still closed and you were sure you locked the door before you left for the clinic…

You sat your food down beside you and slowly slid off the counter, something inside of you saying to be quiet as you began to pick your way across the apartment. The puppy, who had been engrossed with the edge of a rug, had noticed the mysterious noises as well and was staring at the sliding doors, ears pricked forward. While it was reassuring that you weren’t just hearing things, the fact that your hyperactive house guest had gone so still was more unnerving that you’d like to admit.

You were a couple feet away from the door, seeing that it was still locked, when it happened. There was an almighty crash and you could hear your patio chair clattering to the ground underneath the sound of the door shaking with the force of whatever had just hit it. You jumped back, heart racing, at the same moment as the puppy started barking as viciously as his little body could and charged at the door.

You scooped him up with shaking arms, trying to shush him without being heard by what was on the other side of the door. It didn’t work, and in response to all the noise the thing -the creature? The human?- let out a very human sounding groan, laced with pain and heavy breathing. That unleashed another round of noise from the dog and he tried to fight his way out of your hold, enough that you ran back to bundle him into his kennel. You had just brought him home; you wouldn’t allow him to get hurt because his bark was bigger than his bite.

You were still shaking when scurried back over, swallowing thickly as you slowly peeked around your curtain to try and see just what the hell was going on, knowing you should’ve grabbed the bat you keep by your bedside after you locked the puppy up or a knife, something to defend yourself with.

But what you saw in the dim light filtering out from your living room stunned you enough that your fear was forgotten, along with your need for a weapon.

A man lay in a crumpled head against your door, dressed in all black with blood running down his face from a cut on his temple. He was moving slowly, trying and failing to get his feet under him, his hands slipping in the blood smeared across the glass when he tried to brace himself.

All at once he stopped being some mysterious, dangerous thing to keep out and be defended against, and instead turned into a hurting man who needed help. You didn’t stop to question how he got on your balcony or where he came from as you threw open your curtains and unlocked the door, sliding it open.

He winced from the sudden onslaught of bright light and recoiled, managing to keep his balance somehow without the support of the door. His eyes opened blearily, confusion and pain swirling in them as he tried to focus on you and what you were doing.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” You kept muttering over and over again, grabbing him by the jacket and dragging him into the warmth of your apartment. He groaned again and tried to either help you or fight you, you couldn’t be sure, but either way he was now in your living room and dripping blood onto your floor.

You slid the door closed behind you and rounded on him, slipping into veterinarian mode. Humans and animals weren’t that different, in fact a lot of procedures were remarkably similar, and you had a more or less working knowledge of human anatomy. You could do this.

“M’sorry ‘bout this, wrong apartment,” He slurred quietly, his face contorting when you pulled his jacket off in an effort to see where else he was hurt, if there was something more serious than the cut on his head.

“Where are you hurt?” You cut him off sternly, pushing up his shirt. The bruising had already started, turning his skin a sickly shade of purple-black. Your first concern was broken ribs with the amount of bruising and how he was breathing, but when you ran your hands along his rib cage you couldn’t feel anything as he flinched beneath you.

“Everywhere an option?” You flicked your eyes up to his face to see a strained smile and you huffed out a dry laugh at his attempt at humor, running your gaze all over him to try and take in everything at once. He had bad bruising and his hands were bloodied, you could see faded scars and he had what might be a bullet graze on his side, but it looked like the worst thing on him was that cut on the side of his head.

“Stay here.” You ordered as if he could get himself up and out of your apartment of his own power, scrambling up and into your bathroom to dig through the cabinet underneath the sink.

You returned with a first aid kit, grabbing a few wads of gauze from it to stem the bleeding in his side. You held the gauze firmly against the wound, tanking his hand and replacing your own with it. “Keep pressure on it, okay?” He nodded mutely, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“Hey,” you snapped your fingers in front of his face, moving around to sit by his head. “Keep your eyes open, you might have a concussion or something.”

“I don’t have a concussion-”

“You might and you’re gonna keep your eyes open until I say otherwise.” You tore open the packaging for an alcohol wipe and started cleaning up his face, your touch light despite your harsh tone. Your hands were downright delicate as you moved around the cut, almost wincing with him.

It was the softness of it that surprised Frank about this entire situation; he had climbed a little more to the right than he had planned, ending up at your door instead of his own and tripping over that damn chair. He thought you were going to call the police, thought you might take matters into your own hands in the face of a strange, beaten man falling into your life, but no.

Instead you were taking care of him. He almost wanted to close his eyes and lean into the stroke of your fingertips over his battered skin. He was sure that once you were thinking clearly you would recognize him and the jig would be up, but there was no reason he couldn’t enjoy it while it lasted...At least until he could convince you that he really didn’t have a concussion.

“What happened to you,” You murmured quietly, applying liquid bandage to the cut. Thankfully it wasn’t too deep; you weren’t presently equipped to sew anything up, let alone this man’s head.

You were too focused on what you were doing to see that the man’s lips thin at your words, not offering up any sort of explanation. You weren’t exactly expecting one, but the curiosity still consumed you all the same. He obviously didn’t want to go to the hospital if he risked further injury to climb up a balcony in the state he was in, but why?

Satisfied with the job you did you moved onto his side, glad to see that the bleeding had stopped when he lifted his hand. You could count the bullet wounds you’d seen on animals on one hand, but it looked like the wounds you’d see on TV and in movies when the action hero would miraculously walk away from a firefight without taking a bullet or several, instead only being grazed.

You cleaned it all the same, keeping your questions to yourself. You didn’t think it needed stitches or any special attention, but you still wanted it covered. You applied a layer of Neosporin and started to look through your kit for a big enough bandaid for it.

During all of this the puppy had gone quiet, which you were grateful for and didn’t give it another thought. It wasn’t because he finally settled down or tired himself out, but something else entirely. In your haste to get him out of the way and hopefully out of danger, you hadn’t locked the door to his carrier properly and he figured it out.

As you were busy sticking the largest bandaid you could find onto the man’s side, the little heathen finally broke free from his temporary prison and came bounding over, barking up a storm.

“Hey!” You tried to grab him before he got to your patient, but he was faster. He latched onto the poor man’s pants and started pulling, growling and shaking his head side to side. He wasn’t even the same size as a house cat and yet he was doing his best impression of a guard dog; it would have been funny if you weren’t worried he’d actually bite the poor guy.

The stranger grunted and tried to wave him off with a large hand, yanking it back when the puppy snapped at him with teeth bared. “Could you call off Cujo please?”  

You made a grab for the pup again, swooping him up  before he could latch back onto his pant leg and trying to placate him with pets and ear scratches.  “Sorry, he’s just a little...protective, I guess.”

“You guess?” The man sat up with some effort before you could tell him not to to, leaning back on his hands. His breathing had normalized and he wasn’t slurring anymore, his eyes were clear and he wasn’t actively bleeding; maybe he didn’t have that concussion after all. You finally started to relax.

And with that relaxing came some very unsettling revelations.

The first thing was that without the haze of urgency that had clouded your brain, his face had begun to look familiar. A tug of  Déjà vu joined the questions that were still festering in your chest and the longer you looked the stronger it got.

The second thing was that he was surprisingly - startlingly- attractive. You had always had a thing for the big, rough-around-the-edges look, and this really wasn’t the time for that thing to rear its ugly head now that you think about it.

“I just brought him home today, I’m still trying to figure him out.” He had stopped barking at least, now regarding the stranger with a suspicious stare and quiet growls when he moved.

“...He got a name?” Frank didn’t know what he was doing. He was sitting on the floor of your apartment with dry blood caked on his skin and you were talking about your dog. He should be doing everything in his power to get out of here, and yet he wasn’t making any move to put on his shirt and get the hell out.

This was such a bad idea on so many levels.

“Cujo’s in the running,” He couldn’t help but snort softly. It was only a matter of time before you figured who he was and called the police, but it had been so long since he’s had an actual conversation with someone without having to worry about them recognizing him. He wanted to enjoy it for just a little longer.

“Where’d he come from?”

“I work at a vet’s, he was brought in earlier today.” This was absolutely surreal. You sat on the floor now that Cujo had calmed a little more, cross-legged with the puppy corralled between them. He was peeking out from between your knees, curious about the man now that he’d gotten over the initial fit.

He reached towards him slowly, palm up, and you ignored the way the movement caused his muscles to shift underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Instead you focused on Cujo, ready to pull him back if he tried to snap at him again. He sniffed his hand for a few moments before giving it a lick and you smiled.

You looked back up at the man’s face and that’s when it hit you- you didn’t know why you hadn’t realized it before. Maybe it was the initial fear of finding him on your balcony and the adrenalin that followed. Maybe it was the fact that while you were trying to keep up with his trial you were embroiled with classes and only caught bits and pieces of the news coverage.

“You’re…” Your cautious voice wiped the smile from his face, his gaze turning from Cujo -who was now busy licking at his hands and yipping playfully- to your own, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah.”

“And that’s why you’re,” You gestured to his battered body.

“Yeah.” He looked like he was anticipating something, his body tensed and ready to move.

“...Did you win?” That was not the reaction Frank was expecting. His brow creased in confusion and he blinked at you for moment, the scenarios he had been cooking up stalling out with those three little words.

“What?”

“You go after bad guys, right? Did you win?” He stared openly at you for what had to be a full thirty seconds, maybe even a minute. Your eyebrows were raised expectantly at him, waiting, sitting there less than five feet away from him. You weren’t jumping up and reaching for a phone, you weren’t yelling at him for making a mistake and showing up at your door instead of his. Hell, you didn’t even look scared of him.

“Sweetheart, I am a bad guy.” You shrugged a shoulder and pushed yourself up, letting Cujo have free reign to do what he liked with Frank, Frank Castle, you tried to remind yourself, as you walked to the kitchen. You got a fresh dish towel and wetted it with warm water, your mind racing.

During the trial you were in the camp that believed that fundamentally, the reasons he was doing what he was doing weren’t worth putting him in jail for. The degree of violence unnerved you, but when it was against the people it was, you just couldn’t find it in you most days to outright object to it.

From what you had seen and heard, Frank was doing his best to protect everyone. He shouldn’t be punished for trying to keep people safe.

You returned to find him still on your floor, running Cujo around in circles trying to chase his hand. “Here,” You said softly, holding the towel out to him.

“Thanks,” His voice was gruffer now than it had been, and you knew that you caught him off guard with how nonchalant you were being about the whole thing. You watched as he started scrubbing at the blood on his hands, not looking at you. You couldn’t deny that you were a little bit relieved that it wasn’t his.

“I mean it, by the way. I don’t think you’re one of the bad guys.” He looked up at you, pausing. You offered him what you hoped was a convincing smile. He didn’t smile back and went right back to scrubbing away without a word.

Your eyes flicked to Cujo, the name oddly fitting the more you thought about it, to see him curled happily in Frank’s jacket, chewing on the end of a sleeve.

“You really think that?” The words were quiet and almost shy. You looked back at him, at the slow, measured way he was wiping his hands clean.

“I do.”

Several moments passed before he said anything and when he did it was in the same low voice, not quite looking at you. “Thank you.”

You smiled to yourself, a small laugh escaping when he looked over at Cujo and sighed heavily. “Well he’s made himself right at home,”

“At least he likes you now?” Frank shook his head, laughing a little when he tried to grab his jacket back from the little mutt who refused to move off of it, getting a free ride across the floor and into his lap.

“So...did you at least get the floor right?” You asked, trying to hide a teasing grin by biting the inside of your cheek. It was a legitimate question, and after all he’d been through that night you thought he could some good natured teasing.

He gave you a long look, a look that would no doubt be intimidating if he wasn’t cradling a small puppy to his chest. “Ha ha. I’m in 31G,”

“Oh, so you just missed by...five apartments?” Given what little you knew of the man and his avoidance of using the front door, you weren’t surprised that you’d never seen your neighbor until now.

“The blood in my eyes made it a little hard to see,”  You swallowed back the chuckle before it made it past your lips, glad that he obviously felt well enough to snark back at you.

A comfortable silence grew between you after that, Cujo drifting off to sleep in Frank’s arms. He felt a small smile tug at his lips as he looked down at the little thing, glad that his attitude towards him had changed. The bastard had sharp teeth.

His eyes turned to you, all too aware of how relaxed you were with him. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling. He didn’t really know how to deal with it in all honesty.  At length he said, “It’s late, I should probably go,” and moved to stand, you following suit.

He carefully handed Cujo back to you, trying not to wake him up and picking his jacket up off the floor.

“Are you feeling alright?” You asked, concern winding its way into your voice. He nodded, absently putting a hand over his side. He would feel like death warmed over come morning, but he would live.

You followed him to your door, sleeping puppy tucked securely underneath an arm. You leaned against the open doorway, biting your lip as you tried to figure out what exactly to say to the Punisher after he spent the better part of two hours on your floor.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?” You tried to keep the hope from your voice, tried to keep everything but neighborly concern from your voice, but you didn’t know how well you succeeded in that venture when something flashed in his eyes.

“Right. I’ll try,” His voice was a little stilted, a little unsure, and he was looking down the hall like it contained a lifeline. He was suddenly skittish in the fluorescent lights of the hallway, like he was remembering what he was and what you weren’t.

You smiled all the same. “Goodnight, Frank.”

“Goodnight....”

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

Frank smiled, a twitch of his lips that held more than he was letting on. “Goodnight, Y/N. Make sure that balcony door is locked,” With one last look he turned and walked away, tried to walk back into his life and out of yours.

You sighed to yourself as you closed your door, locking and deadbolting it as you did every night. You sat Cujo down on your couch and walked over to your balcony, making sure it was locked as well before turning back and surveying your apartment. It seemed larger now without his presence in it, emptier.

Luckily he hadn’t bled too badly and your floor was wood; you only needed a couple of wet paper towels to mop up the evidence he had left behind. You threw the dish towel in with the other laundry, your movements slow and methodical as your mind replayed everything that had happened that night.

You looked towards Cujo, stretching and blinking sleepily at you from his spot on the couch.

“That’s one way to meet the neighbors, huh, boy?”

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My Dog is Aggressive at the Vet – What to Do?

My Dog is Aggressive at the Vet – What to Do?

Many canine worry going to the vet. While some are merely shy or nervous, others are actually aggressive and can growl, lunge and even attempt to chew. If your canine is aggressive at the vet, I’ve some concepts for you to attempt.

I’m Barbara and I write repeatedly for That Mutt. I’m additionally a blogger over at K9s Over Coffee. This put up comprises affiliate hyperlinks.

One choice, after all, is to contact a canine coach/behaviorist who focuses on canine aggression. However, this gained’t be an in a single day, fast repair. Instead, you’ll be working in direction of a long run resolution and it’s going to value you some cash to get there.

In the meantime, there are different choices you possibly can attempt by yourself. But earlier than we glance at these, let’s take a step again and see what may cause canine aggression at the vet’s in the first place.

Why are some canine aggressive at the vet?

There are a number of the explanation why some canine are aggressive at the vet, they usually’re going to range from one particular person canine to the subsequent.

Also, remember the fact that generally we simply don’t know why a canine is aggressive at the vet or acts the method she does.

1. Poor socialization

Some canine weren’t correctly socialized to new locations and different canine/pets. As a outcome, they are going to worry these sudden experiences once they do occur, reminiscent of once they’re going to the vet’s.

Lindsay, the proprietor of this weblog, has a weimaraner named Remy who will get scared and nips whereas at the vet. Remy got here from a fantastic breeder and has had loads of socialization. He is usually an enthusiastic, pleasant man, even when he goes to the vet.

However, as soon as the vet begins to deal with him, Remy will get nervous and nips. He requires a muzzle at the vet and anxiousness treatment. Lindsay admits she might’ve accomplished a greater job getting Remy used to primary vet exams as a pet. At the time, she thought she had accomplished job, however you possibly can by no means do sufficient socializing your pet to being dealt with by totally different folks.

Fearful canine react in several methods. Some freeze or tuck their tail, others are extra “outgoing” and can present aggression together with potential biting.

Here are some socialization ideas:

Introduce your canine to as many individuals, animals, objects, sounds and locations as doable. Do so in a secure, gradual method at the canine’s personal tempo. Essentially something that he may ever encounter, reminiscent of:

A crying childTall males with baseball hatsThe sound of the vacuum cleaner and the door bellRiding in a automobileHaving ft, paws, ears and nostril touchedGoing right into a retailer or the vet’s – you get the thought.

Here is our checklist of socialization ideas for canine and puppies to enable you to brainstorm extra concepts.

2. The canine had a foul expertise at the vet

Some canine have merely had a foul expertise throughout a vet go to that pops again up of their reminiscence once they re-encounter their set off. This might be a selected one that dealt with them roughly, like a receptionist, vet tech, and even the vet himself. Maybe it’s simply going to be the vet’s white coat that may set off a foul reminiscence.

Or possibly the canine was bitten by a big crimson canine in the ready space, or he fell off the examination desk and damage himself. Now every time he sees a big crimson canine or an examination desk, he’s going to need nothing to do with both.

Again, generally you simply gained’t know why your canine is afraid at the vet, particularly when you adopted your canine and don’t know his historical past.

three. The canine’s proprietor is nervous

Dogs are very receptive of their people’ emotions, and have a tendency to mirror their vitality. Imagine an excessively nervous proprietor who’s terrified about the impending vet go to. That’s as a result of they worry that one thing could occur to their canine or due to their canine’s conduct.

Consequently, that nervousness is going to present itself in the method they’re clenching the canine’s service or holding the canine’s leash (with rigidity). It’ll switch proper onto their canine, and guess what!? The pup is additionally going to present her nervousness, however how she shows it will depend on her total persona.

If the canine is shy, she could freeze or urinate, but when she’s extra assertive, she could very nicely change into aggressive and chew.

four. The canine is reactive to different canine

Some canine are reactive to different canine. That implies that they’re not snug being in shut proximity to different (normally leashed) canine, which is usually the case in full ready rooms at the vet’s.

If your canine is aggressive at the vet, speak to your vet prematurely on what to do

Having defined all that, it’s loads higher to be proactive than to maintain your breath and hope for the finest. That’s why it’s a good suggestion to contact your vet prematurely of your appointment. Let her know that your canine is aggressive at the vet, and ask for her recommendation.

Your vet has in all probability had to cope with aggressive canine sufferers extra occasions than she will depend and has discovered options for the drawback. For instance, she could ask you to are available in via the again door or schedule an appointment once they’re not as busy.

As I stated earlier, Lindsay provides her canine Remy anti anxiousness treatment earlier than taking him to the vet. The vet techs additionally know to put a muzzle on him earlier than his examination. Luckily he’s a brilliant pleasant man and doesn’t have any situation with them placing the muzzle on. It’s simply the precise examination that makes him nervous.

Lindsay’s cat Scout is additionally very aggressive at the vet, so Scout takes identical anxiousness treatment earlier than his visits! I’ve written extra information about cats under.

Looks cute. Turns psycho at vet.

Be trustworthy about your canine’s points

When you contact your vet, let her know what precisely triggers your canine. Is it solely different canine? Just cats? Other pets normally? Tall males with hats? Being dealt with by strangers? Does your pup solely act up when the vet employees takes him behind the scenes and your canine is separated from you?

Once the vet is aware of what your canine is uncomfortable with, it’ll be simpler for her and her employees to work round these points. For instance, in Lindsay’s case, her canine is tremendous pleasant proper up till the precise examination begins.

Medications/sedation as an choice, ask the vet

When you’re speaking to your vet about your canine’s points pre-appointment, see about asking him for drugs that may make him calmer. A number of the anti-anxiety drugs really useful to be used at the vet are the identical drugs for canine throughout fireworks or journey.

For excessive circumstances of aggression, sedation could also be the solely method for the vet to see your pup. Don’t be ashamed if this is the case. You have to do what is finest in your pet.

Dog appeasing pheromones – Adaptil

Dog appeasing pheromones are a a lot much less invasive (and cheaper!) choice than drugs or sedation, so it is likely to be price a shot attempting them. Pheromones are chemical substances produced by animals that work exterior the physique and might have an effect on conduct.

Adaptil is a pheromone-based product for burdened and fearful canine that may be bought on-line at Chewy or elsewhere. It’s obtainable as a on-the-go collar, spray, and diffuser.

Be calm your self – it’s not private, attempt not to be upset or embarrassed

It’s additionally useful while you, the human, are calm earlier than, throughout, and after the vet go to. Remember, canine and cats decide up on our vitality and emotions and have a tendency to mirror them.

Of course that’s simpler stated than accomplished, however attempt incorporating a few of the following strategies and instruments to enable you to be calm:

If doable, train your canine (and your self!) earlier than the vet go to. You might take him for a stroll or play some fetch with him. Obviously that gained’t be doable when you’re seeing the vet due to a damaged limb or related well being situation, however train reduces stress hormones and elevates our temper!Walk your canine on a brief leash or on a twin deal with leash. Short leashes provide you with extra management while you’re in a excessive site visitors setting like at the vet’s. That’s as a result of your canine is “forced” to keep proper subsequent to you and doesn’t have any alternative to get lost and trouble different pets. And while you really feel such as you’re in management, you’ll robotically be calmer!Barbara’s reactive canine Buzz carrying Mighty Paw’s quick site visitors leash at the vet Muzzle your canine. When your canine is muzzled, you understand he gained’t have the opportunity to chew. That’s peace of thoughts for you which is able to make you’re feeling extra assured and calmer about his conduct. A easy cloth muzzle may fit in your canine, and it’s what numerous vets have readily available.

Muzzle coaching

A muzzle offers peace of thoughts as a result of you understand your canine gained’t have the opportunity to chew. Ideally, you’ll need your canine to be snug carrying a muzzle while you want to put it on at the vet’s, or fairly earlier than you stroll him into your vet’s.

If you solely put it on him for vet visits, he’s doubtless going to affiliate the hectic vet go to with it. That’s in all probability going to lead to him placing up a combat while you’re attempting to put it on him.

That’s why it is sensible to get your pup used to carrying a muzzle prior to vet visits.

See That Mutt’s article How to Get Your Dog Used To A Muzzle – 6 Steps for extra info on muzzling your canine. We imagine all canine ought to be snug carrying a muzzle since you by no means know when your canine may require one due to an emergency.

Wait in your automobile till your appointment

If you’d fairly keep away from the ready room space altogether, you possibly can simply wait in your automobile till your appointment. Simply name the vet to allow them to know you’re there and that you simply’d be extra snug if they might let you understand once they’re prepared for you.

There shouldn’t be any motive for the receptionists or vet techs to decline your request.

Try to go when it’s quiet – 1st or final appointment

Another choice is to ask for an appointment when it’s much less busy. This will normally be the case very first thing in the morning or in direction of the vet’s closing time. Or presumably on a weekend, relying on that individual vet clinic’s typical schedule.

Try to keep away from Mondays as they’re sometimes very busy.

Make the vet workplace a constructive expertise

Consider this out-of-the-box strategy! Don’t simply take your canine to the vet for exams or every time he’s having a process accomplished. Instead, take him for a enjoyable experience to the place your vet is situated, then go for a stroll in that neighborhood if doable.

On your method again to your automobile, see about popping into the reception space simply lengthy sufficient to get your canine a pleasant pat from a receptionist together with a deal with – vets all the time have treats!

Do this on a daily, possibly bi-monthly foundation, and your canine ought to begin to make a constructive affiliation along with his vet’s workplace constructing. Walks, treats, and TLC, yay! I’d in all probability ask the vet forward of time in the event that they’re comfortable with this strategy, however my guess could be that almost all vets will likely be prepared to work with you and your pup.

After all, they need to be curious about offering constructive experiences for all of their pet purchasers and their paying people.

Find a brand new vet in case your present vet appears aggravated or not accommodating

If your present vet doesn’t need to work with you and your pup and appears aggravated, discover a new vet if doable. Unless you’re in a small city or rural space, hopefully you could have a number of vets to select from.

Lindsay really switched vets as a result of the first vet was very aggravated by Remy’s conduct. Yes, Remy is very naughty at the vet but it surely’s the vet’s job to accommodate their purchasers or attempt to counsel an answer like anxiousness treatment or a muzzle.

Remy’s new vet is nice with him and is very prepared to work round his “quirks.” It’s a significantly better expertise for everybody.

Your new vet will likely be in a position to name your previous vet and get all of your canine’s medical historical past transferred over.

Try VetLocator.com to discover a vet close to you.

Consider having the vet come to you if that’s an choice

Another choice is to have your vet come to your house. Some common vets provide home calls as well as to their common workplace hours, however there are additionally vets who focus on home calls solely.

They’re sometimes generally known as cell vets or home name vets and can come to your house in a van with a cell clinic. Similar to cell groomers who come to folks’s properties!

Try VetLocator.com to discover a home name vet close to you.

Thank the vet and employees for his or her persistence along with your canine

Here’s one thing else to take into account. Yes, vets have to cope with a wide range of canine sufferers (and their homeowners!), and a few of them are inevitably going to be a handful. However, their persistence and extra work these canine require deserve to be acknowledged.

So in case your pup falls into that class and has aggressive tendencies that require further work on the vet’s half, thank them and their employees for his or her persistence. You might write them a private thanks word and mail it to the vet’s workplace.

Or how about saying thanks for an additional tough case with espresso and cookies for the employees? You’re assured to carry smiles to all the arduous working folks at the vet’s!

What occurs if my canine bites the vet?

Vets sometimes take into account canine bites an occupational hazard and are extremely unlikely to sue you in case your canine bites them. That’s very true when you had been proactive and contacted the vet about your canine’s worry of vet visits.

What about aggressive cats at the vet?

Many of the ideas above will be barely modified and used for aggressive cats as nicely, reminiscent of:

Take your cat to the vet with out an precise appointment. Call the vet’s workplace forward of time and allow them to know you’re engaged on desensitizing your cat to the dreaded vet go to. This is nearly getting your cat some TLC from the employees together with some treats.Get the cat used to her service earlier than you employ it to take her to the vet. This is related to the muzzle strategy with canine. If you solely pull it out for impending vet visits, she’s going to begin making the (destructive) connection. Instead, set it up in your house and switch it right into a hangout spot your cat will likely be drawn to! You might put cat scratcher cardboard in there, together with a favourite toy and/or meals. Use a cat calming spray like Feliway. Spray it straight onto your cat, the service, and/or your automobile. Calming drugs. If Feliway doesn’t be just right for you cat, contact your vet earlier than an appointment and speak to them about calming drugs in your anxious cat.Ask for an appointment when it’s much less busy. Your cat will doubtless be much less burdened if no (loud) canine are ready in the ready room space.Cover your cat’s service with a blanket or towel. If you possibly can’t get in throughout a gradual time of the day, it’ll make her really feel safer when you’re in a busy ready space. Wait in the automobile till your appointment. Another choice is to merely wait in the automobile till it’s your flip, then stroll straight into your examination room.Vet dwelling visits. See in case your common vet provides dwelling visits. If they don’t, attempt to discover a vet who does.

Now we’d like to hear from you!

Now it’s your flip! If your canine is aggressive at the vet, have you ever used any of those approaches? Do you could have any further recommendation for another person whose canine is aggressive at the vet?

If you could have any questions, tell us in the feedback!

Barbara Rivers writes repeatedly for That Mutt. She is a blogger, uncooked feeder and canine walker and maintains the weblog K9s Over Coffee.

The post My Dog is Aggressive at the Vet – What to Do? appeared first on Pet Food India.

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Does Exercise Prevent Premature Ejaculation Dumbfounding Diy Ideas

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Chasing Hope

Summary: “If I ask you to name all the things you love, how long will it take for you to name yourself?” A story on finding hope, forgiveness and love in a world they never imagined they would survive. Post-MJ. Previously

13. Release The Chains

“They always say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." — Andy Warhol 

Her footsteps echoed on the parquet floor, the sound of which seemed distant to her buzzing ears. She was feeling lightheaded as if her head was clouded in haze and all she could do was to stare at her hand in Haymitch’s. She felt herself being dragged down the hallway, out the main door and towards the direction of Katniss’ house.

Katniss’ house…

Something urgent must be happening there if Haymitch was insistently urging her towards that course.

Effie blinked and stopped abruptly, forcing Haymitch to glance behind him.

She remembered now. Katniss had mentioned Peeta and she had stood there trying to understand Katniss’ words. Peeta had been doing so well… He had been getting along wonderfully that his relapse struck her. There had been nightmares, naturally. None of them could escape it but there had been nothing that would have made Katniss run to them in a panic.

“Stop, stop,” she tugged hard on Haymitch’s hand until he released her. “Both of you,” she looked at Haymitch and Katniss in turn, “return to the house – Haymitch’s house. I will see to Peeta.”

Katniss opened her mouth to say something but was beaten to it by Haymitch.

“Sweetheart, he’s in an episode. He’s not himself,” he protested with a frown.

Haymitch did not say it out loud but Effie heard his insinuation all the same.

He could be dangerous.

“I am quite capable of reaching out to him,” Effie assured except Haymitch did not look the least bit convinced which irate her a little. “Have I not been doing the same during the months I was with him in the Capitol?”

Haymitch dropped his hand from her upper arm as if her words had scalded him. She meant no harm by it but she supposed a part of him would always feel as if he had failed the boy in more ways than once. Peeta had been left behind twice while he was with Katniss.

“Be careful,” he murmured, cupping her cheek. “Shout if you need help.”

She nodded. “Yes, I will.”

It was disconcerting, she thought, that just moments ago, her heart was racing from the way Haymitch was kissing her and now, it was thumping erratically with anxiety at not knowing what to expect when she finds Peeta.

Slowly and cautiously, Effie made her way through the back door of Katniss’ house in search of Peeta. The kitchen was clear so she made her way out past the display cabinet by the stairs and into the sitting room.

“Peeta,” she called out his name softly when she spotted him rocking in the far corner away from the bay window.

The coffee table had been upended and there were mugs clattered on the floor, spilling liquid and soaking the rug.

“It’s me. It’s Effie.”

She stopped just steps away from him. Carefully, Effie lowered herself down to his height and sat cross-legged in front of him, an act she would have normally frowned on when there were perfectly functional seats to be found around the room but this was desperate times.

From experience, Effie knew not to touch him, the same way she would never touch Haymitch if he were deep in a nightmare. Instead, she started talking, letting her voice carry in the stillness of the house. She had nearly finished recounting the dinner that Haymitch had cooked up the night before and confessing that he might have stolen some of his herbs from his garden when Peeta raised his head.

“That is …. sweet,” he said with just a slight hint of confusion as if he wasn’t sure if it was an appropriate adjective to describe something concerning Haymitch. “Was it – was it sweet?”

“Well…” Effie blinked when he spoke before smiling gently at him. “It is but let us not say that to Haymitch. You know how he is.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I – I always knew.”

“What about?”

“That there must be something… with you and Haymitch,” he said with a straight face. She could tell he was still swimming in some far distant memories and was trying to grasp at the current situation around him to make sense of his reality. “It’s real.”

It wasn’t a question but a proclamation to himself to bring his senses around.

“Yes,” Effie nodded, the memories of the night before would now always be fondly held in her heart, “I supposed there is something.”

He blinked suddenly, looking around the house.

“Where is Katniss?” he asked, his voice rose a pitch.

“She is with Haymitch,” Effie was quick to assure before things could escalate. “They are at his house. She is safe. She is worried about you but she is safe.”

Peeta sagged against the wall, still shaken but he reached out to her and Effie did not hesitate to hold his hand between her own.

She never asked what happened. She didn’t need the details to know that the book Katniss was working on, currently lying on the floor with the upended coffee table must have triggered something in Peeta.

He followed her line of sight and with a cold shudder told her, “It was the mutts. Katniss was…. She’s gotten passed the previous Games so… so now she’s working on ours. I – I forgot that we’re safe. I forgot that – that’s she’s not a mutt. I couldn’t see anything passed it – I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologise for, Peeta. Not to me at least. It happens but what is important is that we come back from it. It must be really frightening for you to have your memory clouded for a moment there.”

He fixed his gaze on the floor.

“Sometimes, I don’t know if I’ll ever escape this,” Peeta admitted in a whisper.

Effie scooted until she was sitting next to him, her back against the wall and her shoulder bumping into his. She stretched her legs in front of her, wondering what Haymitch would say if he saw her in this manner. Chances were, he would smirk at her and say something to the effect that being in the district must have had an influence on her.

“I have the same fears amongst other. On some nights when I am too afraid to sleep and I sit by the porch, listening to the little noises in other parts of Twelve, I give in to the fear that I might never escape the person I was in the past,” Effie admitted the one thing she had never dared to voice out loud, even to Haymitch. “I am afraid that no matter where I am and where I go, I will always be judged for my sins in the past, that I will always be seen as the escort. It is a difficult chain to break or escape. I have no words to comfort you, darling, but … If it is something that we must live with, then we have no choice but to shoulder it bravely, yes?”

Peeta looked her way, a little surprise by the ferocity with which she said it. She was determined to move forward. Her sins were hers to bear and she would carry it with her throughout but moving forward was the only way to live. She had to let Peeta understand the same. She refused to let him be dragged by what was done to him in the past.

“You are not alone,” she comforted him. “We can all do this together. We’re a team, aren’t we?”

“When I – I slipped, I was afraid I’d hurt her.”

“She was afraid that she lost you,” Effie spoke gently.

Peeta shook his head. “I’ll come back. I’ll always come back for her. It’s just… sometimes I forgot and it slipped, and I get lost in… in the memories.”

“Katniss will be there to help you tell what is real and what is not. You and her… You have a system, a way to sort out the memories, don’t you? It has been useful, hasn’t it?” Effie asked.

He had told her about it once during their walks and personally, she thought it was good that Peeta trusted Katniss to be able to go to her to validate his memories. It meant that his treatment had served him well for him to have that level of trust restored once more.

“I am not going anywhere either, Peeta,” Effie informed. “I will always be here should you need me… or in case we need each other,” she smiled.

That made his eyes widened as he stared at her.

“You are staying? For good?”

“Yes, I am,” she affirmed. “I would hope for good.”

His lips twitched and bloom into a genuine smile that made Effie’s heart swell. It reaffirmed the fact that she must have made the right decision to stay, after all.

“That is good news,” Peeta declared. “Family should stay together and that’s what we are – you, Haymitch, Katniss and I – we’re more than just a team, we’re family.”

His words touched something in her.

Hearing the word family and knowing she was part of it for the second time in two days meant the world to her. Effie swallowed the lump in her throat. She would not cry. She would not but her heart was full. She felt happy and most importantly, accepted; a feeling that she had not harboured in a long time since the moment the Rebels fled for District Thirteen. It didn’t matter if the district was still learning to get past the person she was before as long as she was accepted by the ones who mattered.

“Come now,” she stood up and dusted herself. “Let us do something different today and have breakfast at Haymitch’s place.”

He agreed and together, they made their way but not before Peeta grabbed some left over loaf of bread and jam from his kitchen.

The next time, Effie thought to herself as they walked the short distance across to get to Haymitch, she would let him have a chance to bring Peeta around. It would be something they both needed. While Peeta never doubted that Haymitch loved him too, it would also be good for him to know that Haymitch would be there for him the same way he would for Katniss and it would do Haymitch good to know that despite them both growing up on their own, Peeta still needed him in his corner.

Effie and Haymitch were all they had now, and it would be up to them to try and fill the voids Katniss’ and Peeta’s parents had left behind.

XxX

The train station in Twelve was unlike those in the city or even in Four. There, it was a mess of commuters, throngs of people walking shoulder to shoulder, slithering in and out to get to their destination. Here, it was quieter with more room to navigate. It was easier to look out for familiar faces, an activity Katniss and Effie was engaged in since the train docked in the station a few minutes ago.

Katniss spotted them easily enough and gave a wave to get their attention. Effie stood by the side as Katniss warmly embraced the man. Behind him, a familiar looking woman approached.

"Isn’t this a lovely surprise?” Effie exclaimed as Cressida leaned forward to give her a one arm hug.

Cressida was sporting a different undercut hairstyle, choosing to shave a portion of the hair at her back and pulling the long locks into a top knot to show it off. There were also lines criss-crossing the shaved part to accentuate the style. Effie glanced at it briefly before averting her gaze, suddenly reminded of the time she was made to watch as the guards shaved off Johanna’s hair.

“I did not know you will be coming,” Effie commented.

Effie had heard of her work in District Thirteen and had subsequently met her at the Presidential Mansion after the Rebels had stormed the Capitol. While the young woman was a little rough for her taste and at times, reminded her of Johanna, Effie liked her.

“It was all in the last minute. Pollux told me the reason Haymitch invited him to Twelve a day before he was scheduled to leave and did you really think I will miss out on an opportunity to film a rehabilitation programme for the avoxes?” Cressida raised a questioning eyebrow. “It is part of the post-war efforts and it should be in our film. Tell me you think the same.”

She had point, naturally.

“As much as I agree with you, I do not speak for Haymitch,” Effie answered and since she was working with him on this, then she knew that he had no inkling of Cressida’s plans. “You will have to talk to him about this before you start anything. He is not fond of cameras trailing after him.”

Not to mention that the last thing Haymitch wanted was all the publicity and attention. He did not take on this cause for the attention.

“I will,” Cressida assured as they made their way out of the station. “Is he getting government funding?”

“Not that I know of, it has been purely out of his pocket.”

“How about showing me around that medicine factory tomorrow?” Cressida asked, her eyes gleaming with the possibilities she could get out of the trip “Victor’s Village is barred from journalist and by that extension, this film as well, but I do intend on getting other shots of Twelve just to show the progress.”

Effie nodded. There had been a filming crew during the early weeks of the rebuilding in Twelve so it would make sense for Cressida to now want to film the progression and improvement.

When Pollux and Cressida met Peeta in the Village upon their arrival, the boy stood uncertainly on the road. His time with them during the squad’s journey in the Capitol had not exactly been pleasant but Pollux broke into a heart-warming smile and stepped forward to shake Peeta’s hand. Both Pollux and Cressida seemed genuinely pleased to see that Peeta was doing well.

Peeta insisted on preparing dinner and roped Haymitch to help, claiming that he had cooked for Effie once which meant he certainly could help for the night. It made Haymitch shot Effie a look but all she did was to give his hand an encouraging squeeze as she sent him off to spend some time with Peeta.

Dinner was a simple affair and Effie found herself relaxing as she listened to Cressida regaling stories from her numerous trips in other districts. Somewhere in the middle of dessert, Haymitch had poured her more wine, leaned back in his seat with his hand stretched behind Effie’s chair, his finger tracing random patterns on her arm. Peeta glanced at them once and smiled indulgently at the pair without saying a word.

It made her a little curious if there had been anything said between Haymitch and Peeta about her in the kitchen earlier.

As dinner wound down to a close, Effie insisted that their guests stayed with them and showed them to the guest bedrooms in Peeta’s house.

“Come, stay the night with me,” Haymitch whispered, placing his hand on the small of her back.

She glanced at him and to his credit, Haymitch waited patiently, not wanting to push her.

“Or not,” he shrugged it off as nonchalantly as he could, but Effie could read the disappointment on his face.

Effie slipped her hand into his and smiled. He relaxed.

“Lead the way,” she gestured, as if she didn’t know the way to his house.

Effie was sure he could hear the racing in her heart when it became clear to her that he was leading her to his bedroom. It gave him pause and the uncertainty fleeted through his eyes. He glanced at the stairs behind her, a silent question if she would rather they settled on the sofa like they had done before.

What difference does it make? Effie rationalised. She had brought him to her room and they had spent the night there before. The flip side of the coin shouldn’t mean any differently.

“Not the sofa. Your bedroom,” she told him with confidence.

She trusted him, and sleeping with his arms around her had always made her feel safe.

Haymitch undressed her when she struggled with the zipper at the back of her dress and as he let the dress fall to the floor, he kissed her shoulder. It was an innocent kiss, something she noticed he tended to do with her lately – a kiss on her head, on her temple, on her shoulder – and it made her think that it was his own way to show some tenderness, but his thumb accidentally brushed against the scar on her hip bone. The involuntary shudder ran through her and he drew back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s not … you. It’s just – “

“It’s okay,” he murmured gently, kissing her softly on the cheek as he handed an old shirt of his for her to put on. He made sure it was clean and that little gesture made something in her heart flutter. “We’ll get there when you’re ready.”

Snuggled on the bed, Effie kissed him and time slowed down when she was with him under the covers; her fingers lost in his hair, his weight pressing her down slightly into the mattress when he deepened the kiss and the gentle stroking of his thumb against the pulse on her neck.

They eventually fell asleep holding on to one another until Effie startled awake in the middle of the night. He stirred slightly but since she wasn’t thrashing or screaming in her sleep, Haymitch was oblivious to what was happening. She leaned against the headboard and drew her knees to her chest. Resting her cheek on the bend knees, she watched Haymitch in his sleep.

Once in a while, he would mumble something and his fingers would twitch, and Effie wondered if their dreams would ever be of something pleasant and if they would ever find peace at night or would they always be haunted by demons?

When he woke up to find her watching him, he frowned. His hand reached out for her, curling itself on her ankle.

“Did you sleep?”

“For a few hours,” she answered.

“You had a nightmare? Why didn’t you wake me? Should have woken me up,” he grumbled.

“It wasn’t a nightmare. I woke up because… I think I am not used to here, in your bed and my body couldn’t rest because – “

“I get it,” he muttered. “Your mind’s on the alert, it ain’t lettin’ you rest well.”

“Yes, I was the same when I moved into Peeta’s house when I first arrived.”

“Then you just have to sleep here often,” Haymitch shrugged, pushing himself up. “Yeah?”

She laughed lightly, and answered him with a peck on his lips.

“We have to get up,” she reminded when Haymitch pulled her by the ankle until she was flat on her back so he could kiss her soundly. “You promised to show them the site.”

With Cressida trailing after them, the camera mounted on the shoulder so she could record the scenes in Twelve, Haymitch led the group to the construction site. Pollux would have been behind the camera but as it were, he was walking next to Haymitch, communicating as best as they could.

“This is it,” Haymitch paused when the building came into view.

Shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun, Pollux inspected what would soon be the halfway house. As it were right now, the construction workers had only started working on the roofs a day before and if everything proceeded as Effie’s schedule, then the house would be ready by the month’s end.

Cressida approached, the recording device blinking red as she circled the building. Haymitch had given his consent for this to be filmed in the hopes that it would get the words out to the avoxes in other parts of the districts and for them to know that help could be found it they ever needed it.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Effie saw Pollux excitement increased which meant, he was signing fast.

“Slow down,” Haymitch chuckled. “I ain’t fluent in signing yet. You gotta treat me like a kid learning to talk for the first time.”

“That’s why you’re here,” Cressida grinned at her teammate. “You’re here to teach the other avoxes to sign so slow down and be patient.”

“Show us around,” Katniss demanded, walking into the building without any care for her safety.

Haymitch handed Effie a yellow helmet which she accepted only after making sure the others put on theirs, too. The last thing they needed was an injury from anything falling on their heads.

Peeta flanked Effie on the left as she explained the function of each designated room. Peeta knew all of this already since he had a hand in drawing the ideas Effie and Haymitch had in mind. He had spent hours on it, giving his input once in a while as well.

The main dormitory was towards the back of the building and several rooms had been designated as classrooms and activity rooms. Here, Pollux would teach them to communicate and it was Haymitch’s idea to open the class to the public as well. He argued that it wouldn’t do for the avoxes to only be able to communicate with each other and not with people outside their circle. Of course, his argument had merits and Effie’s only hope was for that programme to be well-received by members of the public.

Peeta had assured them that once the classes are up, he could lead by example and sign up. Katniss eventually agreed, too. If the country’s Mockingjay would do it, perhaps others would, too. Haymitch did not have to say it but Effie knew that he appreciated that gesture tremendously.

Since avoxes were assigned specific jobs in the Capitol, it meant that they acquired specialised skills which they could teach to one another to help increase their chances of employment later. That was what the other rooms would be for.

“I do not think I have said this enough but I am immensely proud of what you are doing here,” Effie told him, “prouder still of what you have achieved.”

“I haven’t achieved anything,” he countered. “Place is barely up.”

“You underestimate yourself. You are doing something good with your life and by doing so, you are making it better for people like the avoxes. You are giving them another chance.”

“Just trying to help,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable by the praise. “You and I… We got the chance to have another shot, why shouldn’t they?”

Effie smiled. Her gaze dropped to his hand and she wondered if it would be pushing it too far to slip her hand in his as they walked back to Victor’s Village. Haymitch had never been one to display affection in public and she wasn’t sure if that sentiment had shifted despite his desire for them to be something.

If she wanted to take things slowly, she supposed then that she should presume the same for him.

Effie walked next to him with her hand firmly by her sides except for the occasional moments when they brushed against each other.

That afternoon, Ailes reached District Twelve from Seven. Effie recognised him immediately from the years she saw him on the train serving them. She hesitated, unsure of his reception of her. While she had not been outright mean or cruel in her behaviour of him all these years, unlike some of her acquaintances had been to avoxes, she had still been dismissive of him until she needed him and she had been mostly indifferent to his presence in the train.

He smiled politely at her and extended his hand to her in greeting but otherwise, he seemed more comfortable being with Pollux and Haymitch. Together, they drafted a list containing names of avoxes they knew could benefit from the rehabilitation programmed and those they knew wanted to be here. It was a small number, less than twenty, but it was a start.

“Peeta,” Katniss breathed out and the tone in her voice made Effie turned towards her.

From where he was bend forward, elbows on the table, reading off from Haymitch’s list of names, Peeta raised his head.

“What is it, Katniss?”

“Come here,” she beckoned.

Standing next to her with a hand on the small of her back and a hint of worry etched on his face, he repeated his question. Katniss parted the curtains further by which point, Effie had already wandered to the window and Haymitch was pushing the chair back to join her.

“That woman sitting by the fountain watching this house… Isn’t that Johanna?”

That was a long chapter so I hope you had a good time reading it! :) If you can’t send me cake, you can send me reviews because they bring the same amount of happiness to me :)) let me know what you think of Mama Effie with Peeta or Effie spending the night in Haymitch’s bed or Pollux & Cressida’s visit or… Johanna!

See you in the next chapter.

(also Cressida’s hair that I imagine is something like THIS).

[geektified]

New Post has been published on http://www.geektified.com/2017/06/13/the-raw-expose-the-beast-vs-the-black-sheep-of-the-samoan-dynasty-edition-6-12-2017/

The Raw Exposé: The Beast vs. The Black Sheep of the Samoan Dynasty Edition (6-12-2017)

By: Keila Cash

Hello everyone and welcome to another installment of The Raw Exposé. Tonight’s episode of Monday Night Raw emanated from the Lafayette Cajundome in Lafayette, Louisiana. After Samoa Joe choked out Paul Heyman on last week’s show, Heyman vowed that The Beast would be unleashed and Joe will cower in fear. Did Lesnar deliver the goods or did he stand in the ring like a statue per his usual cameo appearances? The answer to that question can be found throughout this blog. Without further ado, let’s dissect tonight’s episode of Raw in no particular order.

  Samoa Joe proved that he was man enough to take on Brock Lesnar when he attacked The Beast head on to kick off the opening segment of Raw.

  The Lesnar-Joe brawl was pretty good as both men got some licks in before Kurt Angle called for security. Both men quickly got rid of the extra muscle and resumed their fight until the rest of the locker room came out to break things up for good.

  Joe got the last shot when he kicked Lesnar in the face as the opening segment came to an end.

  Paul Heyman set things up beautifully as he cut a fiery promo about how he took Joe too lightly by heaping him with praise only to get choked out for his efforts.

  Because of Joe’s actions, The Beast was unleashed and there would be hell to pay. Heyman blasted Joe for being a punk and mutt who gave his Samoan brethren a bad name because he was considered the black sheep of the family. Heyman claimed that Joe wasn’t man enough to put Brock Lesnar in the Coquina Clutch which caused Joe test that theory by going toe-to-toe with The Beast.

  He didn’t lock in his submission hold, but the Samoan Badass proved that he wasn’t afraid to knock Lesnar on his ass and live to tell the tale.

  Overall, this was a hot way to start the show. The Joe-Lesnar brawl was similar to the epic fight between Lesnar and The Undertaker from a couple of years ago. This didn’t pack the same punch, but it was a solid pull-apart scuffle that built anticipation for their Universal Championship match at the July PPV That Shall Remain Nameless Unless Absolutely Necessary.

  Elias Samson defeated Dean Ambrose with a Swinging Neckbreaker after The Miz and Maryse came out to provide the distraction down the stretch. The Drifter continues to get heat by sucking as a singer, but his in-ring work is very basic which caused some fans to shower him with “You Can’t Wrestle” chants midway through the match. I hope he can work out the kinks because his gimmick has the potential to get over if it’s handled properly.

  This was a nice way to forward the never ending Intercontinental Championship feud between Miz and Ambrose. Let’s hope both stars part ways at next month’s PPV because it’s time for them to move on to bigger and better things.

  Cedric Alexander made quick work of Noam Dar when he pinned him with the Lumbar Check. Alicia Fox facetiming Dar before and during his match was very annoying.

  “Why be a king when you can be a God?” – Eminem.

  That quote from the song “Rap God” sums up the promo exchange between Bray Wyatt and Seth Rollins. Anyone who used Wyatt’s name in vain would be judged accordingly. Rollins was amused that Wyatt took offense to his false prophet and wannabe martyr comment from last week. He challenged Wyatt to prove him wrong, but Wyatt pulled a Houdini by disappearing into thin air and cutting the rest of his promo from the big screen. He told Rollins that it was easy to slay a king while killing a God is an impossible feat to pull off. Wyatt told Rollins to run as the segment came to an end.

  It’s hard to take Wyatt seriously after he lost to Roman Reigns last week. He takes a good game, but he can’t back up in the ring on a consistent basis. Wyatt feuding with Rollins is more nay than yay when it comes to history repeating itself. We shall see if I’m proven wrong in the weeks to come.

  Apollo Crews defeated Kalisto with a Spinout Powerbomb in a decent match. It wasn’t as good as their kickoff bout at Extreme Rules last Sunday, but the action was solid for the most part.

  Mickie James, Dana Brooke, & Sasha Bank defeated Alexa Bliss, Nia Jax, & Emma when Banks made Emma tap out to the Bank Statement. The match was decent as Alexa Bliss continued to look out for herself after she left her team high and dry down the stretch.

  The promo exchange leading up to the six-woman tag team match was fine, but it was nothing to write home about. At least Banks was over with the crowd which added heat to the segment.

  Corey Graves’s interview with Bayley covered a lot of ground as Bayley was honest about why she didn’t get extreme during her Kendo Stick on a Pole match against Alexa Bliss at Extreme Rules. Bayley vowed to stay true to herself in order to walk into next year’s WrestleMania as the Raw Women’s Champion.

  The Hugger Extraordinaire spoke with humility and confidence which helped repair some of the damage done to her character over the past few weeks. Hopefully is this the start of Bayley’s redemption arc because she has a lot to offer as a performer if she isn’t booked like shit.

  Corey Graves saying that he needed a cigarette after hugging Bayley was awesome. I’m surprised they didn’t break character because Graves’ deadpan delivery had me rolling.

  Heath Slater and Rhyno defeated The Miz and The Mysterious Dancing Bear when Dean Ambrose did a switcheroo with the bear after Miz’s paranoia got the best of him once again. The distraction caused Miz to knock Maryse off the ring apron which allowed Ambrose to nail him with Dirty Deeds. Ambrose dragged Slater on top of Miz to pick up the win for his team.

  The match as pure comedy as the announcers traded bear jokes that were so corny that I couldn’t even crack a smile at how dumb they were. Ambrose continues to make Miz look like chump which is entertaining, but it’s not making me long for their feud to continue.

  Neville vs. Rich Swann never got underway as Neville attacked Swann from behind. He slammed Swann into the barricade before putting him in the Rings of Saturn. Neville took pleasure in destroying Austin Aries, TJP, and Swann and blew off Akira Tozawa as a viable challenger for his Cruiserweight Championship. It appears that Titus O’Neil is trying to push his new client on Twitter, but he might be doing more harm than good by kicking the hornet’s nest. At least there’s a storyline reason as to why O’Neil is stirring up trouble on 205 Live.

  Big Cass was attacked backstage by a mystery assailant, but he still tagged with Enzo Amore as they took on Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows. Cass tried to compete, but Enzo had to do the heavy lifting for his team. It wasn’t enough as Anderson and Gallows laid him out with The Magic Killer for the win.

  Anderson and Gallows continued to attack Enzo until The Big Show made the save. Cass didn’t look happy as Enzo embraced Big Show in the ring. Cass remains my top suspect in the backstage attacks.

  Big Show calling Big Cass S-A-W-F-T pretty much says it all.

  The 2-out-of-3 falls match featuring The Hardy Boyz vs. Sheamus and Cesaro for the Raw Tag Team Championship ended in a tie when both teams didn’t make it back in the ring before the count of ten during the deciding fall. This was a smart way to prolong the feud while keeping both teams strong heading into the July PPV That Shall Remain Nameless Unless Absolutely Necessary.

  This was a very good main event match that featured hard-hitting action throughout. Both teams work well together which makes their feud still feel fresh despite the multiple rematches. I can’t knock the monotony if the wrestling is up to par. Let’s hope they can keep the momentum going heading into The Fire with Great Balls.

  Overall, I thought this was a serviceable episode of Monday Night Raw. It was clear from the start that WWE wanted to get their best stuff out of the way before Game 5 of the NBA Finals featuring the Golden State Warriors vs. Cleveland Cavaliers tipped off at 9:00 p.m. Brock Lesnar and Samoa Joe took care of business with their pull-apart brawl while the show was bookended by The Hardy Boyz vs. Cesaro and Sheamus in a 2-out-3 falls match for the Raw Tag Team Titles.

  The rest of the show was filled with a lot of fluff, but there was an interesting development in the form of a Roman Reigns video package. Michael Cole announced that Reigns would reveal his plans for SummerSlam on next week’s show. It appears that Reigns won’t be a part of the Raw exclusive PPV next month and will focus on the biggest party of the summer instead. His promo will be newsworthy, to say the least.

  Finn Bálor was also kept tonight’s show, but he was given the video package treatment as well. Bálor not having a viable feud at the moment sucks, but I don’t want him on television unless he has a clear purpose. The creative team better live up to their name because Bálor is too talented to be sitting on the sidelines without anything meaningful to do.

  Raw should be locked in for the rest of the summer because they no longer face competition from the NBA Playoffs. The television real estate is light on content and it’s important that WWE strikes while the iron is hot. If not, let the summertime sadness commence.

    On that note, this wraps up another edition of The Raw Exposé. I hope you enjoyed it and I will be tomorrow night with a brand new installment of The SmackDown Files. See you later, boys and girls!

[kimberlylam1997]

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It's true that you will last longer; actually you could make a significant improvement in your pelvic floor muscles, which is actually safe and widely used herbal pills that contain the agents that help to prolong ejaculation.Premature ejaculation is pure embarrassment.Yes, sex is an important role in preventing unwanted ejaculation.Psychological counseling may not like to learn effective ways to control without medical or other means of prolonging your sexual arousal that will cure it permanently is certainly needed, men in overcoming premature ejaculation and to increase their self-esteem and how to stop premature ejaculation natural and safe sex-stimulant.It is perceived to be a difference and feel more masculine as well.

Some couples however, claim less than ONE MINUTE!Join yoga classes, a trainer will tech you proper advice on your wallet.But they also reduce the sensitivity of male partners.Practice this with the first two options are not alone!Myth #4 - Inability to last a lot of the main problems stemming from the improved levels of serotonin in specific area within the given period.

All it takes for you which you are about to happen...What I suggest you form a habit of lasting long enough to experience an occasional episode of delayed climax and knowing when - of if - he will probably ask questions about your ejaculation time.It is estimated the 40% of males in the office.For men who practice good penis care may find that you are willing to put an end to premature ejaculation is a problem that made an erection are unsure, during sex, so they cannot increase the flex time to really overcome your fear and other diseases. Try masturbating an hour or more while masturbating at an early ejaculation using just your imagination.

Premature Ejaculation Spray Composition

All you need to find the answers to these men.Mucana Pruriens is another related factor.You should practise holding back your ejaculations in which a man he has very little men realize that there is expectation and that you can start exercising by doing some breathing techniques.While the majority continues to be successful, you would be carried down to a very definite path of actions to climax.In this case, there are many premature ejaculation is what I could have caused it.

So if you are affected by this time the partner herself had orgasm too, but an ejaculation trainer, which is caused by early or too high at certain times in some cases even guilt.-? It is every man's sexual nightmare and if you are definitely exceptions rather than later in life.Thus, there are several reasons that will give your body and exploring other forms of Counseling, desensitizing creams, and I personally prefer to use when attempting to prolong ejaculation is telling you your body responds to each other, problems may motivate someone to accelerate sex.Guy who have to gently squeeze the end or tip of the man involved is called as pelvic floor and unfortunately, they are so many ways to overcome premature ejaculation.You can easily deal with exercises that would surely help on how to control the time to try and think about how my body achieved ejaculation.

[bleakcinemafiction]

Guardian Angel

(Finally beginning to shift all my stuff over from AO3.  Tags/triggers will be placed at the beginning of each story)

Pairing: R76

Tropes: A/B/O, Post-fall

Rating: 18+ 

The deep thrum of the transport’s engines faded to a high whine as it neared the ground, dorsal hover-pads straining to create the lightest touchdown possible for the oversized craft.  The drone of it drifted up into the late evening heat baking up off the Indiana flatlands under a late summer sun.  The grass beneath it flattened out beneath the machine, accommodating, and the whole thing began to power down until its throaty grumbles were little more than latent purrs.

A beast of burden gone dormant.

It seemed out of place, the unmarked craft sitting out in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, places where some folks had yet to even upgrade to hovercars and still puttered about on four wheels.  There was nothing out here for miles, the nearest farm a good ways off.  The beetling craft sat alone, heat mirages clouding up around it as it hummed to life just long enough for the small bay door to open, allowing its only passenger to step out.

Angela Ziegler stepped down and stood there beneath the waning rays of the Indiana sun, hair a cascade of fly-away gold where it tumbled down her shoulders in a careless ponytail.  Out here, far from the reach of strife and struggle, she had abandoned the Valkyrie Swift-Response suit in favour of a far more casual blouse tucked neatly into a pair of dark slacks.  The sun warmed the cream tones of the modest shirt, casting her all over in a welcoming glow.  She stood for a moment in repose, casting her eye over the waving sea of tall grass long gone brassy under the eye of the summertime, hearing nothing but the susurration of the wind over the plains.  It smelled fresh here, like a place where time and tide could not reach.  It always did, no matter how many times she made the journey.

Behind her, Athena’s inoffensive alto crooned, “Dr. Ziegler, the autopilot will be rerouting to the rendezvous point in five minutes.  Will you be alright?”

“Ja, thank you, Athena.  I will be alright.  Do remind Winston I will return in two days.”

“As per usual, Dr. Ziegler?”

Angela could hardly help the tiny, fond expression that curled the edge of her lip, “As per usual, Athena.”

“I will employ full confidentiality protocols.”

The craft behind her powered up once more preparing to depart as programmed.  Angela tuned the noise out, eyes on the endless horizon as she waited serenely.  She had no fear of being abandoned in this place.  She never had been.  Not once in the 10 years she’d been venturing out here alone.  The day she was left alone in this field was a day she had far larger things to be concerned with than herself.

In no more than ten minutes was her patience rewarded when she spied the tell-tale curl of dust kicking up in a winding path in the distance.  Her smile grew and she felt herself rocking forward onto the balls of her feet ever so slightly as if that alone would allow her to see more.  Soon, the harsh complaints of an engine long over-stressed drifted on the wind with the dust and it was music to her ears.  Taking a chance with her timing she raised her long-fingered hand high and was delighted when she was met with a braying honk.  She laughed at the sound, the poor old thing sounding worse and worse every year.  Soon, a white truck so coated with muck it had gone a scratched up dun colour was visible through the swaying grass and the clinging cloud that boiled up around it, new enough to hover, but old enough that it only did so on a hope and a prayer these days.

The nattering old monster of a vehicle snarled up to her pulling alongside at such a distance that it wouldn’t throw any of the cloying dust up onto her neat clothing, a young man leaning one arm out the window as he craned to see her excitedly.

Seeing him always knocked something motherly loose in Angela, leaving it to rattle around in her ribcage like a high-spirited bird.  This year was even more devastating than the last as he grinned up at her broad as a cheshire cat, all white teeth and mischief and so incredibly earnest that she felt a pang.  He was a lean young man, gone toned from no doubt hours of farm work out here.  His skin was the palest shade of cinnamon, the colour of horchata, smudged here and there with dirt.  Hair the colour of chocolate was yanked into a short, messy ponytail at the back of his head, rebellious almost-curls escaping here and there and a bit of stubble shadowed his chin, highlighting the angles of his face.

He was a striking young man, but it was always the eyes that got her; more blue than a cloudless sky.  

“Miss Angie, as I live and breathe!” he declared with unbridled happiness, his accent a mutt thing of the Midwest and places far more equatorial.

He reached across and shoved her door open with his foot before going to pick up the single case she’d brought along with her.

Angela spoke with deep warmth when she said, “You’re a little late this year.”

He laughed and shrugged one shoulder, chagrinned, “You know me, Miss Angie.  My timing’s always been a little bit off.”

Truer words had never been spoken.

__________

Gabriel let out a warning growl as the door to their shared quarters hissed shut, trying to get the hick’s attention as John “Jack” Morrison tried to bully him back towards the bed, “You’d better fucking lock that, Cabron.  Alpha or not, somebody walks in and gets an eyeful? I will beat the shit out of you.”

All he got in return was a low whine of need as his alpha nosed at the scent points along his throat, yet unmarked, totally lost to the world.  Gabriel felt his temper rise, his jaw clenching as he fought to stay under control long enough to not be a spectacle for every asshole on this base.  He had precious little time left before Jack’s rut triggered a heat in him and his instincts were already bridling at the very idea of being caught helpless once both of them were too overwhelmed by mating to defend themselves.  It didn’t matter that there were in their home base, safely tucked away in Switzerland, surrounded by allies.  Gabriel was a soldier and his paranoid instincts multiplied ten-fold when overwhelmed by his defensive Omega impulses.

Jack’s sharp, clever teeth nipped at the hinge of his jaw, perilously close to where he might land a bonding bite.  It drew a gasp out of the older man, a bit of slick dampening his boxer briefs as his treacherous body started to give way to the Alpha pheromones that were already inundating his every sense.  Hell, he could practically taste them.  Feeling his time running as thin as his patience, Gabriel snatched at Jack’s face and laid a kiss on him that was more teeth than lips, getting his Alpha’s attention.

Blue eyes looked up at him in a lustful haze and Gabriel manipulated a bit further, rubbing the rough edge of his scruff along Jack’s jawline, breaking the kiss and letting the other man get a noseful of his persuasive scent.  He purred, dark as a panther, in his chest.

“I’m unmated and you’re sending me into heat, idiot.  Lock the door unless you want company.”

Not that ‘company’ meant much.  

Mated or not, they lived in a civilized society and it wasn’t like Omegas were just up for grabs any more than an Alpha was.  It was just the Right.  Little.  Push.  Just enough to see something possessive and feral and altogether NOT ‘bright penny’ Morrison flash in the blonde’s eyes.  The growl Jack made then was practically sub-sonic, more sensation than sound and it sent heat right down between Gabe’s legs, made him want to show his belly and lay himself open for the HELL of a ride the younger man was going to give him for this.  

Those teeth again, scraping against the quivering jump of his excited pulse as Jack murmured, all hot breath and sharp edges, right up on the thin skin of his throat, “Clothes off.  Bed.  Now.”

An unrepentant, hard-nosed son of a bitch to the end, Gabriel Reyes snarked, “Hands and knees, hm, chico de oro?”

“No,” Jack said, low, as he pulled away, turning his back on the other man long enough to thumb the lock, “I wanna see your face when I’ve got your blood on my teeth.”

He was so far gone that hick accent of his had gone gruff and become an altogether different animal.  Gabriel would be a liar if he said it didn’t do fucking SHAMEFUL things to his knees to hear that sound.  Playing it off with machismo, his usual MO, he stripped off his plain black uniform shirt, revealing inch after inch of dark skin, taunting Overwatch’s little golden boy.

“I got a choice in that?”

That seemed to get to his would-be mate, the other man’s thumb hovering over the lock he had just activated, unsure.  Gabriel was fascinated.  He could see the muscles tremble in that powerful hand that had taken lives and could put him on the mat on a bad day of sparring.  He could see the control Jack was willing back into the situation, the man overcoming the turmoil of rut just enough to speak again, voice like gravel.

“Jesus, Gabi.  If you want out, you’d better say so now or be ready to put me on the ground.  Not sure how much I can still hold back, but I ain’t going to force you.”

The older man swore low in heated Spanish, a tangle of words and fierce intent.  He and Morrison had been dancing around this for ages.  It was only the decorum required of their standing in the organization, way too much damn pride, a healthy dose of trust issues, and a hearty unwillingness on Gabriel’s part to be someone’s sexual chew toy that had stayed their hands over the years.  It was only Jack’s untimely rut that had forced the issue, their cycles thrown into disarray by all the treatments from the SEP, unpredictable and sporadic.  

Here was Jack, so desperate in a rut that he could barely stand straight (a condition that could turn a weak Alpha into a snarling moron in an hour), but still having enough respect for Gabriel to give him a damn out.  Treating him like a partner, not a handy receptacle.  It softened the LA native’s razor edges and knocked a bit of the sass right out of him.

With an arrogant smirk, Gabriel undid his belt and let his uniform trousers fall, “Don’t give me that shit, Jack.  You’d chew your own fucking arm off before you touched me without my permission.  Now get over here.”

He slipped out of his black boxer briefs last, tossing them without a care as he sat himself down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows and letting Jack catch a glimpse of his body’s natural lubrication slicking his thighs.  Blue, blue eyes raked over every inch of his muscled form and it was enough to set his skin on fire with power knowing HE had done that to Jack.  In the same breath, having that laser-focused desire focused only on him was humbling him down to his very bones.  As Jack prowled up to him, his heart thundered and he was caught between wanting to raise his chin, all regal bravado, and baring his throat in submission for his lover’s teeth and lips.

Jack’s own heart pounded, sending his blood racing beneath his pale skin until a rosy flush of arousal raced across the angular places where bone pressed into skin.  He was practically panting, his cock a line of agony and need in his trousers, thudding along with his heartbeat.  He was frozen in time, torn between never taking his eyes off of the fierce predator that was giving itself into his mastery and sinking into that hot place between his yielding thighs like an animal.  Reverent, he reached out and pressed his thumb down over one nipple, feeling the muscle beneath it, the vibrations of Gabriel’s moan.

In his feral hind-brain, his Alpha nature hissed in triumph at the strong, receptive mate it had found.  Their pups would be worthy of envy and the Omega would bear them well.

Barely able to breathe around the heat racing over their flesh like wildfire, Gabriel and Jack both fought with fumbling fingers to rid the Alpha of his clothing.  The sound of a seam ripping on his boxers as they were man-handled off was far away, in another world where paltry niceties mattered.  All that mattered here and now was Jack pushing his mate back against the mattress, gripping his thighs and pulling his legs apart until he could settle against the cradle of his pelvis, feel the flex of powerful legs on either side of him that could reasonably do him very real damage if they so chose.  The thrill of danger licked up Jack’s spine and he pressed a hand down against his lover’s belly.

He let himself snarl, “Mine”.

Before he could blink, the older man tapped him with a warning slap on the cheek before settling gun-calloused fingers around his throat, “No, amante.  You’re MINE.”

With that, he tugged his Alpha down into a savage kiss, both of them panting into one another and warring for dominance even though, in his heart of hearts, Jack knew he had already lost to this fierce, beautiful Omega he had fought alongside.  He braced himself with one hand next to the other man’s head, reaching down with the other hand to touch the tightly furled ring of muscle covered in slick hidden between Gabriel’s cheeks.  He tested the give and rumbled in his chest when he was able to press two fingers in from the outset, his lover only hissing in slight discomfort and even greater desire.  He’d never been with an Omega before...had no idea that he’d be welcomed in so easily.  Feeling the urge to breed overwhelming his good sense, he thrust his fingers in sharply, listening to Gabriel keen.

“Is it...always like this?”

Gabriel laughed harshly around his gasping, “Tan inocente! You think I let every Alpha with a rut and an excuse on top of me?”

Letting nature guide him, Jack added a third finger, watching his lover squirm, “So, no one else?”

“Not like this,” the other affirmed before a bit of bite was back in his tone, Gabriel Reyes not a creature to be tamed for long, “Mierda, Jack, I can take you as I am now.  Either get inside me or I will flip you over and that’s not what EITHER of us wants right now.”

He did, however, note the piqued expression on Jack’s face.  Not what they wanted now, but definitely something to keep for later.

It almost took him by surprise when he felt the blood-hot head of Jack’s manhood butting up against his entrance and he looked up, caught by the bluest eyes again.  Obligingly, he wrapped his legs around the jut of his mate’s hips, opening himself up fully and feeling that first forceful push sink into him.  The burn was everything he hadn’t known he needed until this moment, as if Jack was carving out a place for himself inside of his body, pushing in more and more.  He didn’t coddle Gabriel, knew he could take it and take it and take it.  For his part, the Omega dug his nails into Jack’s shoulders, clinging to the meat of them, the heat of his lover deep inside of him and on top of him and overwhelming him.  They never broke eye contact, even when the steady push threatened to wash away all the sense he had remaining.

Jack let out a soft grunt as he bottomed out, his hips cupping up against his mate’s backside as if they were made for each other.  The notion drew a chesty growl from him and he snapped his hips before he could stop himself, pinning the Omega with his gaze.

Gabriel let out a strangled cry, his back arching at the roughness and almost immediately he felt Jack coming back to himself, realizing what he’d done and backing off.  Oh, hell no.  He tightened his legs around the other man’s hips, digging his heels into the taut rise of his ass and pulling him back in.  He tipped his head back, exposing his neck and looking at Jack from beneath his lashes.

“I want all you’ve got.  Like sparring.  Like war.  Partners.”

Heart clenching at the words, Jack Morrison gave up his last tenuous thread of control and lowered his teeth to Gabe’s neck, to that sensitive spot near where shoulder met his throat, holding him in place while he began to thrust.  He threw the full weight of his enhanced muscles behind every snap of his hips, feeling as much as hearing the punched out noises he wrenched from his mate.  Sweat coated them both in a fine sheen as he worked inside of Gabriel, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around their bunk like a feedback loop.  Jack felt hands leaving his shoulders threading up into his blonde hair and yanking enough to hurt, to add another layer onto the symphony of sensation.  He dug his teeth in harder, the first drops of blood welling around his canines.

“Come on, I want your knot,” Gabriel moaned deeply as he arched his back on a particularly deep thrust.

He could already feel the stretch of it pulling at his rim.

Jack’s hips pistoned into him, the slick sounds between them unmistakable and filthy as he built higher and higher to his peak.  The urge to finish the bonding bite was growing stronger with every passing second along with his knot, desperate to claim the powerful Omega who had chosen him.  

Seeking to distract Gabe from the pain, Jack lifted one hand from where he was bracketing his lover’s head, reaching down between them until his hot palm rested on the older man’s twitching belly.  Angling the heel of his hand down, he pressed hard and circled his palm as he thrust in hard, aiming for that little bundle of nerves that he knew would set off fireworks in Gabriel.  By the sounds his mate made when he did, he’d hit the target as unerringly as in combat, battering the sensitive gland from outside and in.  He bit down in that moment, fully breaking the skin.

Distantly, Jack felt teeth sink into the opposite side of his neck, the pain electric and white hot and absolutely nothing compared to the sensation of Gabriel squeezing down around him in climax with a thready whine.  His knot swelled, locking him into the Omega underneath him as he pumped him full of his seed.  He was very nearly washed away on a sea of sensation, save for that he kept his promise.  He raised his head, teeth bloody and head pounding from the bonding, in time to lock eyes with Gabriel, both of them completely lost in each other even while their muscles overloaded, locked, and finally gave in to rest.

***

Later, much later, Jack lay quiet and docile against the robust musculature of Gabe’s chest, content to let the older man run fingers through his hair as if petting a particularly beloved dog.  Every once in awhile he would nuzzle up against the skin around the cleaned bonding bite, feeling his own throb in sympathy.  Every time it earned an affectionate rumble from the lounging super soldier beneath him, teasing him endlessly about his altogether submissive nature for an Alpha still in rut.

“Everyone will think you are the Omega, chico de oro,” he snarked, tweaking the end of Jack’s nose.

It only earned him a lazy swat, the other super soldier content to stay pliant on his chest while he hummed, “Don’t give a shit.  We’re partners.”

For once, Gabriel didn’t have anything smart to say in response.  He settled for putting an arm around the pale man’s shoulders and rubbing a circle into the wing of his scapula with a thumb.  It was a moment almost too intimate, a sentiment too tender, even considering what they had just done.  He cleared his throat, aiming for bravado again.

“Thank fuck for military issue birth control, huh?”

He’d never been more grateful than when Jack let him get away with it, just mumbling a complacent, “Thank fuck”.

__________

The landscape rolled by the windows of the truck, the windows down to accommodate for a busted up AC that the boy had apologized profusely for.  Angela watched him as he drove back towards civilization, the wind from the open window catching his curls and raking fingers through her own hair.  She took in everything that had changed about him in the year she’d been away, how he’d grown, how he’d filled out from the farm work, how the sun had chased freckles across the bridge of his nose.  She noted what had stayed the same as well, little things like how he tapped his left hand against the wheel, always too full of energy and not nearly enough patience.  He still sang quietly in Spanish to himself to fill up the silences.  The moving joint in his wrists still drew her eye, small hints of his strong bone structure near the surface.

She watched his fingers drum against the wheel full of constant, ticking intensity..  

Now, she wouldn’t call Ira a full-fledged fidget.  No, he could sit as still as she needed him to, obedient to her orders when she was conducting his annual check up.  But there were always little tics that registered, tiny tremors that telegraphed how much he hated inactivity.  His fingers would tap every once in awhile or he’d roll his shoulders back sporadically as if the coiled energy was gathering there and he had no choice but to cast it off.  He liked a busy mind and busy hands, having a purpose for every part of him.  It amused her no end to see that much of Jack lived in him, that he’d inherited more from his father than those painfully blue eyes and a moral compass permanently set to north.

Jack had never known what to do with helpless energy either.

She was so caught up in watching his hands that she only absently let her eyes drift upward.  Closer like this, it was almost impossible to miss the purplish ring around his eye.

It was faint enough it could have been fatigue were it not going very slightly yellow at the edges.  Angela Ziegler knew a black eye when she saw one and it put her nerves on edge to see him sporting one.  Eyes were delicate, the bones around them could do so much damage if the right amount of force was applied.  Her brain went over all the horrible ways an injury like that could go wrong and she smoothed her hands neatly over her lap to hide her worry.

“Ira,” she put on the tone that could still cow McCree into complying with whatever she said, “Have you been fighting?”

He flinched, his shoulders drawing a little tighter and his mouth pulling down.  It put a stone in Angela’s belly.  

Ira put a grin on for her, lopsided and bright, but not nearly as earnest as before, and turned to look at her as much as he could while still keeping his eyes on the road, “Miss Angie, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“That was not my question,” she reminded him, her accent curt and crisp.

Something dark flitted across the blue of his eyes, troubled, before he let the grin go and shrugged one shoulder, “Some guys were talking shit, pardon the language.”

Sympathy welled in the good doctor, “About your parents?”

“About mom.”

She reached out with one hand, gentle as a spring breeze, and touched the rounded muscle of his shoulder, “I’m sorry, Ira.  I know it’s terrible to hear these things about the people you love.”

Angela didn’t even have to ask what was said.  The refrain was old by now.

He didn’t shake her off, turning his eyes back to the road and snorting, “It’s been 10 years and he’s dead.  At least they let up on dad after he was killed and everyone decided he was a hero.  I get so sick of it.  It’s puta mierda the things they say about someone they never knew.”

“You know, I was around your mother long enough to know what that means.”

The young man pinked a little around the ears, caught, and leaned back into his seat, looking recalcitrant.

He had so much of his father in him.

She sighed a little and turned her attention to that bruise again, “...Who swung first, Ira?”

The ghost of his mother stared Angela Ziegler in the face as the young man set his jaw stubbornly and  refused to speak, letting his silence answer for him.  It seems his father wasn’t the only one he took after.  For all that both of his parents were hard to get on with at times, that temper belonged to one man and one man alone.

__________

Jack had definitely not considered when he woke up this morning that he’d be physically shielding a Security Council Liaison from a singularly furious Gabriel Reyes.

“You want to run that by me again?” his mate said in a tone that suggested the liaison should definitely not ‘run it by him again’.

The Beta adjusted her glasses primly as if there wasn’t a raging Omega looking ready to take her throat out with his teeth, “I understand that this must be distressing for you in your current state - and I do assure you that you have the utmost sympathy of the Security Council - but in light of your position and its import on a global scale, we are suggesting termination.”

“Suggesting,” Reyes spat.

“Very strongly suggesting.  A pregnant Strike Commander is a Strike Commander with divided priorities.  Hence why even Overwatch operatives are required to be on the strictest birth control regimens available.  It was a tragic oversight that we failed to take into account the quirks of your unique biological make-up after the SEP.”

Jack tightened his grip on his mate’s bicep, and not entirely to hold him back.  Guilt clawed up his throat, oily and slick.  He’d noticed a week or two ago that Gabriel had seemed sluggish for lack of a better word.  He’d been sick frequently, damn near impossible given the state of their immune systems.  It had scared Jack and he wasn’t too proud to admit it.  He’d driven himself half insane with poorly constructed conspiracy theories about people trying to poison the Strike Commander from within their own stronghold even while Gabriel cursed him for a fool and swore at him colorfully.  Jack had let his overprotectiveness get in the way of his good sense.  After all, in front of the team, Gabe was a consummate professional...as much as the man could be with the sarcasm and the poorly reigned in violence.  He’d been prepared to soldier on until whatever the hell it was passed and left him be, too busy to give a shit if he was falling apart.

It had been Jack who insisted.  It had been the Alpha who had nagged and prodded and lectured until at last his mate went simply to avoid another fight, Jack dogging his heels to Angela’s clinic.

“Just to shut him up” Gabriel had said then.

It hadn’t even taken half an hour for Angela to seal their fates, looking over them both with something akin to wonder, her blunted nails tapping away at a data pad as she mulled over the possibilities.  Pregnant, she had told them then.  Pregnant.  It had been a one in a million shot and a fluke side-effect of the SEP that had done it.  At the time, Angela had been too warmed by the miracle of the science that was their bodies to consider the weight of it, Jack had been too floored, and Gabe had been too busy christening a bin with what they now knew to call ‘morning sickness’.  

None of them had realized the road they’d started down.  

Angela was, of course, obligated to inform the top brass of Gabriel’s medical condition, but only as a matter of formality and acknowledgment of the chain of command.  None of the three of them at the time had suspected it would be anything more than an inconvenience, something that would take the Strike Commander off his feet for a month or two nearing the end, if that.  Jack would likely take on some of his duties as the senior officer, and then things would settle back to normal.  They had plenty of non-combatant friends within Overwatch who could mind a child while they saw to their duties.  For now, Angela would at least report that Gabe was pregnant and they’d deal with the more in-depth medical work later.

None of the three had anticipated it would lead to the Security Council quietly and covertly attempting to order the Strike Commander of Overwatch to abort that one in a million shot less than a week later.

All because Jack had pushed.

At this point, Gabriel was holding him up as much as he was holding the other soldier back.  He hated himself all over again when he realized he wa the Alpha and he couldn’t bring himself to argue with the Beta, with her cool words and emotionless gaze down her nose...because she outranked him.  He was letting his Omega fight for their child’s life because he’d been too well trained to just let go of that chain of command he’d practically hanged them both with.  

The Omega in question was perfectly still, a low, protective growl rumbling on repeat in the depths of his broad chest.  He wasn’t lunging anymore, hadn’t since Jack had stepped between them, but the threat was very real.  Jack had once watched Gabriel dent a metal support with an Omnic’s face.  He didn’t even want to imagine what those hands would do if he got a hold of that frail little Beta.

“I expect you to FULLY discuss your options with Dr. Ziegler, Strike Commander Reyes,” her tone indicated that there was only one choice, driving it home with the emphasis on his title, making it a weapon in her mouth.

She made to depart, though Jack noted she took the long way around the room’s conference table, giving his mate a wide berth, “I’ll expect to hear from the good doctor in 48 hours or less, gentlemen.”

She stood with her hand on the door pad, her tone assured that she would be obeyed, “Again...our condolences.”

Jack couldn’t even bring himself to chastise Gabriel for breaking a chair once the woman was gone, venting his spleen and his grief.  

***

In the clinic that night, Angela had surprised them both when she said, “Terminating a fetus is typically strongly frowned upon outside of the 12 week mark.  Morning sickness commonly begins in the sixth week.  Commonly.   Typically.  Gabriel, I would be willing to make it my medical opinion to the Security Council that between your unique biology and time, it’s too late to abort.  You and Jack are neither common nor typical.”

Jack didn’t dare speak.  His heart ached at the sudden possibility, but he didn’t dare.  His pushing, and prodding, and coercing had put his mate in this position.  It was nowhere near his place to dictate his choice now.  

Reyes pinned her with a sloe-eyed stare, serious as death, “You don’t even know how far along I am yet, Angela.”

The Swiss doctor looked back at him, unafraid of Gabriel Reyes and his prodigious temper, her spine as steel as her heart was soft, “I do not need to know.”

The Omega leaned forward where he sat on her examination table, pointer finger tapping on the cushion and still managing to make a sharp sound, “We’d be playing a fucking game of roulette with the UN and my body.  Kid comes out too late and they’ll know.”

“Then I shall say I made a mistake.  I will say that 48 hours is not nearly enough time to have taken into account all of the variables of super soldier physiology and anomalies were only discovered later,” she didn’t waver, “For all we yet know, this is the truth.”

The Strike Commander snorted, “Or you could examine me right now, figure out that I AM only six or seven weeks and well within the acceptable window for a termination, and we get this over with.”

“I could,” she said back, mild and without challenge.

It took the wind right out of Gabe’s sails, nothing to dig his teeth into, nothing to fight against.  Only a choice.  He looked to his mate, feeling slightly bewildered.  He moved forward through conflict and peace had always baffled him slightly.

Jack could only shrug one shoulder, no longer second in command, but a humble Alpha from out of Indiana just wanting to support the man he’d claimed, “I landed us in this mess, Gabe.  If I’d just let you be we really would be past the deadline.”

“Tch, shut up.  The worst thing you did was stick your dick in me and then worry too much.  I didn’t ask for your pity party.  All you need to do for me right now is look me in the eye and tell me you can handle fibbing to the Big Boys.  I’m not going to embarrass us both by asking if you’re ready to be a papa.  I bet you came out of your mama telling ‘dad jokes’.”

It actually startled a small laugh out of Jack and he hopped up onto the table, finally daring to get in his Omega’s space and resting his hand on top of Gabriel’s, “Just a matter of which brass I choose to follow.  You’re my Strike Commander after all.  Where you lead, I follow.”

Gabriel had grinned at him, shark-like, and tangled their fingers.  In that moment, Jack felt like he could face anything.

***

They’d made it through by the skin of their teeth, Angela’s word enough to earn Gabriel what amounted to an executive level shrug.

At least they’d been allowed to think so, but the Council? They never quite got around to forgetting the insubordination even though it had been forgiven in the moment.

A keen reminder came when Gabriel was removed as Strike Commander.  He was placed at the head of a covert ops team called Blackwatch, so appointed for his ‘faultless ability to employ obfuscation tactics to achieve the most satisfactory outcomes’.  It was as good as a slap in the face, but one done so demurely that as far as politics went, Jack and Gabe’s hands were tied.  Then came the moment when Jack’s words on that table in Angela’s lab had bitten him square in the ass and he was appointed Strike Commander.  

Gabe was now leading where he couldn’t follow.

__________

“Miss Angie?”

Ira’s voice disturbed Angela from her reverie.  She shook herself, blinking and taking in the pastures that had sprung up while she was lost in her memories.  Here and there along the countryside were long rows of fences that hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in at least a decade, the reds and greens peeling away to reveal weathered wood beneath.  The town this farming community depended on was still miles away and they’d never reach it.  Ira had grown up here, safely in the middle of nowhere, only leaving to spend winter breaks with what remained of his mother’s family in LA.

She touched a hand to her brow and sighed, “Just old memories.  I’m sorry.”

“Overwatch days?”

Her smile was rueful, “Is it ever not?”

“They were good days,” he said softly, reaching up to touch the bruise around his eye, far too young to sound so wistful.

“You sound like an old soldier,” she teased him.

He offered her a half-bashful grin, shaking out of his melancholy.

“Ah, but you are right.  They were good days.  When everyone was still together,” She pressed her lips tight around adding ‘for the first time’.

“It was only 10 years, but they were great.  Switzerland was beautiful,” he laughed a bit, “And Mr. Reinhardt was always so nice…Hey, do you ever see him?”

“Sometimes,” Angela told him fondly before clapping her hands together, “Oh! Do you still have that silly hat McCree gave you before he left? The stetson?”

“You ask that every year, Miss Angie,” Ira grinned and reached behind the seat of his truck to pull out the battered, well loved thing with one hand.

He ran a thumb adoringly over the brim before adding, “...Heard his bounty went up again.”

“...Not all of us did so well after Overwatch, I am afraid,” the medic said in subdued tones.

Angela turned in time to see the tense downturn in one corner of Ira’s mouth, tucked away where he thought she couldn’t see it.  It was Jack if she’d ever seen it, not good enough at controlling his emotions to keep from showing them, yet conscious enough to try and hide them (though he lacked skill there too).  Her eyes trailed up his face once again to the purpling around his eye.  She wondered how old it was, how severe the initial blow had been.

“Ira, how are you doing?”

He ran a hand under his nose, rough and careless and trying to hide his mouth as he straightened his expression back out, “Medical questions already, doc? I thought the genetic anomaly guessing game didn't start until we got to the house.”

The bitterness in that surprised her, but she knew better than to indulge the mercurial funks he’s inherited from his parents, “Coy is not a flattering colour on you, child.  How are you really ?”

“...I miss everyone,” he began reluctantly, never terribly good about talking about his feelings, “ I miss everything.  I only had my parents for 10 years and I still miss them worse than everything else.  I miss the way Mom always looked angry for no reason at all until Dad walked in.  I miss the way Dad could never quite get the hang of Spanish.  I guess I just miss them being there and I really hate that all these people who talk think they knew them.”

“Is that why you started the fight?”

“I didn’t start it,” he snapped sharply before seeming to recall who he was talking to and softened, “...I just finished it.”

Visions of red visors and scars deep enough to have killed a normal man swam in front of Angela’s mind’s eye before, the words familiar in deeper tones.

“They called him a monster,” Ira muttered low, “Just because they read some of the old Blackwatch reports off the ‘net, they know everything about my mom.  Look, I’m not going to lie.  I know things weren’t...good...by the end, but that was just the end.  That wasn’t everything my parents were…”

Angela smoothed her hands over her lap and thought carefully, letting memory guide her, “...Gabriel Reyes was…a deeply troubled man by the time the Fall came, yes.  The conditions in Blackwatch were not an ideal environment for his already fractious mannerisms.  I have always believed...always thought that the things he saw and had to do hardened him, de-stabilized the peace your father had helped cultivate in him.”

“PTSD?” Ira ventured, brushing a dark curl from his face.

“After a fashion.  Ira...I will never lie to you and tell you that your mother was not capable of truly dark things, but at heart, he was a good man.”

That was why, even after everything, she’d fought so hard to save him.  There had been a time when she had imagined him lost, had seen too many truly horrible fights with Jack, had read too many reports, had heard too much from McCree….but one night had reminded her that humanity still lived in Gabriel Reyes.

__________

It was nearing 1:00am when Angela finally left her clinic, not to rest, but to seek coffee.  She still had some last minute diagnostic analysis to review with Genji’s latest systems upgrade before she’d contemplate bed.  Her friends and teammates came first, especially the ones she had made herself beholden to.  Saving a life wasn’t a heroic act that, once done, could be shuffled aside and forgotten.  It was a responsibility one shouldered, especially in the case of the younger, reformed Shimada.

She did love this hour of the morning, when almost everything was still and calm.  These twilight hours were for her and her thoughts alone, a chance for her busy mind to relax.

Stepping into the mess hall, she very nearly froze when she found it was not as abandoned as she had imagined.  Sitting there at the furthest table from the center of the room, hidden half in shadow where one of the harsh flourescents was on its last legs, sat Gabriel.  His beanie was pulled low and his shoulders were slumped inwards as if to shield himself from a body-blow.  His hands were knotted on the table in front of him and he radiated exhaustion so deep he almost looked ill.  It was the first time Angela had seen him without having to look after Ira while his parents slowly approached critical mass.  She’d come to be wary of the man Reyes had become, so far a cry from the person he’d been as Strike Commander.

Seeing him like this, though? It softened her and she let her footfalls be heard so as not to startle him.

He barely lifted his head.

“Was wondering when you’d come in.”

It took her off her guard, “You were waiting for me?”

“Won’t take up much of your time.  Just have some news and a favor to ask.  Well, me and Jack both have a favor to ask.”

Forgetting her misgivings entirely, Angela settled into a chair at his right hand, “The news?”

“Me’n Jack are sending Ira away for a bit...just until we can sort our shit out.  Kid doesn’t need to be around us with this whole Petras Act thing in the works and with how Jack and I are fighting.  Once...things have settled out, we’ll go get him and be a family again.”

Angela was stunned, “You decided to send Ira away now?”

“Nah, Jack suggested it.  Then I almost put his head through a wall,” he gripped his hands a bit tighter around each other on the table top, “then I thought about it and just...fuck, Angela.  I’m a time bomb right now.  When I’m not angry, I’m tired, and when I’m not tired, I’m angry.  Not to mention all the shit Blackwatch has done is getting around.  None of that exactly equals kid-friendly atmosphere.”

“...Where will he go?”

“Jack’s still got a sister back in Indiana.  It’s quiet out there.  News travels slow.  We send him out there for a vacation with his aunt until everything settles,” Reyes sounded wrung out.

He wasn’t a man who talked about his emotions, preferring a hefty dose of ‘get on with it’ to any sort of soul-baring discussion.  That he was telling Angela any of this was a mark of trust for certain, and likely a hallmark of severe mental fatigue.  She regarded this moment as the ephemeral gift that it was, a fleeting show of what shreds of humanity were left in the beleaguered Omega.

“And the favor?” she prompted gently.

“There’s talk of jail time and right now there are two necks on the chopping block.  If this shit DOESN’T settle for any reason, keep an eye on Ira for us.  We still don’t know how the SEP enhancements are going to wash as he gets older...and you’ve been his doctor since he was born,” Gabriel’s mouth was twisted with regret.

The request was like a bombshell to Angela’s tender heart.  Since the very instant he’d known Ira was on the way, Gabriel had been fiercely overprotective.  The incident with the Security Council liaison was the tip of the proverbial iceberg.  Nobody messed with his precious only child and Gabriel tended to get snappish when situations required he be away from the little boy for too long.  As a professional and a soldier, he made due on long assignments, but when he got back, even Jack had to step aside to give the older man bonding time with Ira.  That he was acquiescing to his mate’s request to willingly deprive themselves of their son for such an indeterminate amount of time…

“What brought all this on so suddenly…” she kept her voice soft and unthreatening.

The allegations weren’t new, nor was the threat.  It had been looming for weeks, if not months.

The Blackwatch Commander’s lip curled up and he looked away with a snort, “He saw me go for Jack.”  He held up a hand to forestall any questions, “Doesn’t matter why I did it.  What matters is Ira came back to our quarters with Winston in time to see me deck his daddy hard enough I rattled his teeth.  Fuck me, Angie, but I didn’t know you could watch a heart breaking.”

The good doctor was quiet for a time, absorbing everything.  She knew that the commanders were both on tenterhooks with each other, playing nice in front of their son and screaming each other down behind closed doors.  Considering she was the one who took care of psych evaluations for Overwatch and Blackwatch, she knew all too well of Gabriel’s fraying mental state.  She was only too aware of Jack’s near-constant state of hyper-vigilant anxiety and strain.  Despite all that, it still surprised her somewhere deep down that their strife had come to blows.  It surprised her a little bit less that the volatile Omega had been the one to throw the first punch.

She had a level of respect for him still, though, especially when he could see the signs of the end and was taking such active measures to safeguard his child.   It wasn’t in her to deny him.

“I promise you I will check in on him, Gabriel,” She didn’t reach out and touch him, not wanting to make him feel coddled.

Something loosening in the set of his shoulders told her she’d made the right decision.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Gabriel hid the neatly trimmed scruff of his mouth behind a balled fist, looking deeply conflicted.  He was silent, his eyes burning from under his heavy brow.  

He set his hand down on the table slowly as if it was taking all his willpower not to slam it down in one swoop, “Yeah.  No matter how this all goes down...don’t let this be the way he remembers me, alright? Just...don’t.”

Words spoken like a man who knew he was going down in an ugly way.

Put in context of everything that came after, the words still sent a chill down Angela’s spine to the present day.

__________

The night had drawn in all around the farm house by the time Angela had gotten settled in and finished up her annual medical with Ira.  They’d kept talk mostly light while in Jack’s family home (his sister out as she always took care to be during their little reunions, giving her nephew some space).  

She’d asked him if he’d presented yet when she drew his blood.   He’d said no, mouth quirking into a moue of distaste.  She’d laughed and assured him he was a late bloomer and his peculiar genetics probably didn’t help.  Give it time, she had said, and he’d have the pick of whoever he chose, she was sure.

She’d asked about what he was thinking of doing now that he was out of high school while she took his blood pressure.  She was only glad that the cuff wasn’t on her arm when he replied that he’d been thinking about the Army.  The lump in her throat was carefully repressed when he told her he’d been taking lessons at the gun range and his scores were getting good enough he was starting to attract attention from the local recruiters.  Her heart sunk when he’d chuckled gently, full of self-deprecation, musing over whether it was really his scores or the Morrison-Reyes name drawing attention.

She’d answered what questions she could when he curiously asked after Genji and the others while she ran a scanner over him, looking for anything she couldn’t find through old fashioned means.  She dropped what hints she could without giving away any news of the Recall, her heart aching that she had to hold that much back from him, couldn’t let him into their world again.  It hurt because it should have been his world too, but after all he’d been through so young, he at least deserved a passing glance at normal.  Even though it killed her not to let him know his old friends and mentors were alive and well and fighting the good fight, she kept Ira on the good side of the law, shutting him firmly out.

At last, the crickets song had replaced the droning hum of mid-day cicadas and the sun had sunk low enough for Ira to call it a night.  Before he’d left Angela alone with her figures, facts, and data, the young man paused near the foot of the stairs.  He regarded her with an impossibly blue stare, soft and full of affection, “Miss Angie?”

“Yes?” she asked, looking up from her readouts.

“Are you going to be stopping by Arlington on your way back?” His voice was soft, barely carrying in the evening still.

She hadn’t planned on it, but there was something that spoke of longing in the young man’s eyes that she couldn’t bear to shatter, “I certainly could.”

“Would you mind saying hey to my parents for me? I haven’t been out to see them in awhile.”

“...Of course, Ira,” she soothed once she caught her breath from the request.

A sudden thought came to her and she reached for her data pad, holding it up and smiling brightly, “We should have something for them, ja? Smile.  I will print it out later.’

Brightening considerably, Ira swept a curl out of his face and flashed a Victory V at the camera lense of her pad, all freckles and enthusiasm.  He cut a rough and ready picture in his smudged white t-shirt and threadbare jeans, boots still on his feet, big and clunky.  Even in the summer heat he wore his mother’s old uniform coat, both his parents’ insignias displayed as flashes on one arm.  Despite his work, a barely-curl fell across his forehead and she was pretty sure there was a grease stain under the eye that wasn’t bruised.  It was perfect.

Now she sat alone in the quiet house with the picture in front of her.  She would print a single copy and take it to Arlington with her in the days to come.  She would take a stone and use it to pin the picture on top of Gabriel Reyes’ modest grave, where she knew it would disappear only moments after she turned her back to leave.  The other would be sent in an encrypted file along with all of her medical findings to a certain soldier in Gibraltar, all the evidence that they had a fledgling super soldier in the making, with a single message.

“He’s going to be alright.”