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completeoveranalysis · 28 days

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[7]

Ooh I will say the expression of dark rage on Evil Wolverine is MAGNIFICENT here. They really went all out. This is gorgeous.

Considering I hate looking at the man THIS looks fantastic! 10/10 Evil Wolverine panel, maybe only beaten by the one where he gets stabbed.

And I suppose if you were going be mad about anything, being stabbed through the chest is a pretty reason.

Oh!

I mean yeah, I guess that is how it works. You stab a man and he wants to stab you back.

On a side tangent I love that he has the same Pull-Sword-Out-of-Hand magic that Fai used on Kurogane before they went to Seresu. I’m a fan!

Fai and Kurogane are markedly less excited to see it come back this way but I think it’s neat!

MEANWHILE try not to think about Kurogane, who has spent his entire life haunted by the image of Evil Wolverine stabbing his mother with that sword, is now watching Evil Wolverine pull out the same sword to stab his son.

I am interested in the hands in the final panel though let’s see what that means.

OH.

Oh.

Yeah I suppose this too would also happen.

If anyone WAS going to be stabbed by Evil Wolverine here it WOULD be Syaoran jumping in the way to save Lava Lamp.

We get the whole reversal of Syaoran stabbing Sakura in Nihon, but now he is now defending them and being stabbed in return.

Potentially foreshadowed in Outo with Syaoran being stabbed by Seishirou there as well.

(As well as when Evil Wolverine kills Xing Huo, who ALSO betrays him while working for him, who ALSO got stabbed all the way through with the same sword, ALSO IN THE SERVICE OF SAVING LAVA LAMP)

And Syaoran closing the loop of, like… Lava Lamp defending Syaoran by giving him half his soul to protect him from Evil Wolverine, and now Syaoran defending Lava Lamp by protecting him physically from Evil Wolverine. The giving of a soul and the giving up of a soul to save each other from the same man.

IT ALL LINKS UP.

#Am I thrilled about it?#No!#IS IT NARRATIVELY SATISFYING?#UNFORTUNATELY YES!#YES THIS SYMBOLICALLY SLAPS #Is there time to save him please I still love my clone son #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 209 #Evil Wolverine #Lava Lamp Guy #Syaoran #Syaoran vs Syaoran vs S T A B #I…#OH THE CHAPTER COVER ART?#THE FLASHBACKS FROM SYAORAN’S POINT OF VIEW?#RECAPPING HIS MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS??#RIGHT BEFORE HE GETS STABBED ALL THE WAY THROUGH???#UHOH

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justplainwhump · 9 months

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Choices

This piece entirely skips on the very interesting relationship between Adrian and Noor; but please don't worry, you'll certainly get it another time.

For now, however, the stage belongs to Noor and Blanca.

[Pet Safety masterlist]

Noor and Blanca try to learn from each other.

Content: BBU, BBU recovery, BBU Romantic, implied dubcon sex between survivors (or is it? Your call), messy first steps in recovery.

Noor sat on the edge of the couch in Marta's small apartment and tried to sort what was happening around him. The WRU handler had come, the one who'd told him to run away, who'd pressed him against the wall and told him about the red car, and he hadn't been scary this time, just exhausted, in plain clothes and with a much softer voice. And Marta had allowed him in, even though she hated WRU, and wanted nobody to know about the runaway pet hiding in her apartment.

And even more confusing was the pet the handler had brought along. Another Romantic, older than Noor, much more scarred, and a more angry stare, but not a runaway. This one was owned. By the handler. And deeply in love with him, as her eyes on him suggested.

She made Noor uncomfortable, even more so than the handler himself, but she didn't seem to distress Marta, and so Noor did his best to cover up his unease.

They'd just gotten past some short introductions, small talk in English and then quick business talk - at least he supposed it was, he couldn't tell - in a language foreign to him. Noor simply tried to be invisible, avert the curious gaze of the other pet and stared at his bare feet, toes curling up in Marta's soft blanket.

He only realized that Marta was on the phone, when she let out a string of wild curses and Noor's head flew up in alarm.

"It's alright, Noor," she assured him, before she looked over at the handler. "It's Ray. There's a problem at the safehouse. We need to get over there. Can you come?"

"Sure." The handler - he had a name, Noor knew, he was meant to call him Adrian, but you never call a handler by their first name - nodded. "What about Bea?"

Marta shook her head. "No. Too dangerous. She can stay here. Noor knows his way around."

Noor glanced over at the other pet. She wore a collar, a soft dark blue one, that she touched sometimes, before smiling at the handler. It stung. Bea had an owner. A kind, attractive owner with strong arms and a soft smile. The picture perfect life that had been promised to every pet. Except for the demo pets. They just pretended, all the time. Pretended to love, to be loved, to be owned.

Bea had the real thing, and Noor didn't. Marta was kind, as the handler was, but she had explained to him that she wasn't, and would never be his owner. It wasn't fair.

"I don't like you to be in danger, Sir" Bea said, and looked up at her owner through her lashes. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Marta will look after me." The handler took Bea's hand and pressed it. "You be safe."

There was a longing in the pet's face that was way too familiar. But she smiled at him and nodded. Noor noted the little sway in her knees, as if she'd wanted to kneel at her owner's feet, and then had changed her mind before she moved.

Noor wondered if the people had noticed, too. Bea was a lucky pet, but also a strangely behaved one.

Marta picked up a duffle bag and tossed it over to the handler, before she grabbed a briefcase herself. "Don't wait up," she said lightly. "Bea can sleep in my bedroom. Just remember to stay away from the windows, when I'm not here."

Noor nodded. He knew. She'd explained to him, in all detail, how crucial it was that him staying with her was unnoticed. That if they were reported, the handlers would come and hurt them both. Noor didn't want that.

He silently hoped, that the handler that was Bea's owner wouldn't hurt Marta, either. But he couldn't judge that; that was people business, and Noor found pet business much easier.

"I can show Bea what to do," he assured Marta, a little proud, because it was true. He could handle things. He was a good pet.

"Great." She cast him a wide smile, that couldn't cover up the exhaustion underneath. Marta wasn't a good liar. But it made Noor feel warm that she tried, for him. Nobody ever had before. "See you later."

And with that, the two people left, both pets silently staring at the door falling close.

"Do you like it?"

The question startled Noor. When he turned his head, Bea stared at him from her one steel gray eye. There was a scar running down her face on the other side, mostly hidden under the black eye patch. It made her gaze a lot more disconcerting. She was still pretty, but she wasn't... perfect. Not as a Romantic should be. Not as Noor still was. Then why did she have an owner, and he didn't?

"Do I like what?"

"Being free," she said.

Noor frowned. Marta often talked about feelings with him, but never as bluntly as this pet dared. "Why?"

Bea shrugged. "Because I don't know if I want to be."

"Pets aren't supposed to think about that," Noor replied automatically.

"You're not a pet any more," she shot back, before she frowned. "Or..., at least not a pet bound to these rules. You're a free pet."

"And what are you?"

"Something else." She gave another shrug, and a half smile he knew intimately. Covering up the mess underneath, the fear and insecurity, at the sheer size and complexity of the world that they weren't supposed to live in. "You didn't answer my question though."

Noor bit his lip. "I... It's confusing," he said. "It's like..." He looked around, lacking words, and stepped over to the open kitchen. It was strange, still, that he was allowed to touch things, to take whatever he felt like. He opened the cabinet that Marta called her "secret reserve", sweets and snacks and chocolate, and pulled out some of the bags. It felt horribly wrong. "There's choices. Not the kind of choices from the handlers, where you just pretend. But I could eat..." He lifts one rustling bag. "Green bag chips, or," He lifts another, and another. "Peanuts, or chocolate chip cookies, or another color bag chips. Or nothing. Or all. And it's..." He frowns. "It's just a lot."

She bit her lip, just as he had before. It was irritating, seeing someone else do it. Like a mirror, even though she was nothing like him. Right?

"Cheese," she said, and pointed at the green bag. "I'd pick cheese flavour."

"Why?"

"Because I like cheese," she replied.

"How do you know? Good pets don't want anything but their owner."

She looked at him for a long while, until he couldn't stand it any more and averted his gaze.

"Why do you want me to be a good pet, Noor?" Her voice was careful, wagering.

"I...," he whispered weakly. It was harder to act around her. He couldn't just put on his easy laugh, or his seductive smile. She'd see right through it. "I want things to be simple. I want to know what's good and what's bad, and right and wrong, and I want someone to tell me what's what."

"Cheese is good." Bea cocked her head. "And I'm not a good pet. There. I told you."

"You're not-"

There was something in her icy gray stare that made him stop talking.

"You think I'm not someone who can tell you?"

"You're-" You're like me, he'd wanted to say, even though she obviously wasn't. "You..." He gave up, just stayed there standing, chips bags in his hand, feeling how his body automatically curved into a more favourable position, hip tilting, weight shifting, back to default.

Bea stepped in, slowly, and gathered the snacks from his hands, stowed most of them back into the cabinet. Noor swallowed, but didn't move.

Suddenly, he was strangely aware of her body next to him, of the way her arms brushed over his shoulders as she fumbled with the cabinet he was still standing in front of. She wasn't like him, but her movements were like his, beautiful and sensual.

"These," she said, her voice all but a whisper as she softly tugged at the one bag left in his grip. The green one, of course. "We'll share these, and find out if you like them, too."

He kissed her.

It was more of a reflex than any conscious decision, it was the warmth of her body and the tone of her voice and the soft authority of her suggestion. It was right.

And so was her reaction.

He could feel her body soften against his, melt into their embrace, the smile spreading on her face when she kissed him back.

Bea's lips were warm and soft and eager, with a hunger lingering behind it that he felt himself. It wasn't a hunger for him, nor was his for her, but it was for what their bodies could do, together.

What they needed.

What they were made for.

Her hands were fumbling with his waistband, his had pushed up her shirt and roamed over the soft skin of her breasts, and for a single moment they lost their shared rhythm, when she stepped back to sink to her knees and he grabbed her hips to lift her up onto the counter. Their foreheads bumped into each other, and both of them let out a breathless laugh.

"You-", he began.

"Would-", she said.

They laughed again, and hers was a little darker than before, less airy, more... different.

Then, she stepped back, keeping him at arm's length. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled, her smile radiant. He tried to follow, to hold her again, to touch another person's skin, feel her warmth, to -

"Stop," she said, with a sudden sincerity, that made him wince. "Do..." She bit her lip, frowned a little, almost nervous. "Do you want this?"

It was his turn to pause. "I..." he stammered and reached out. "I... Of course, I... you..."

Never. He'd never been asked. He'd always been ready, always willing, eager to please. Nobody had ever needed to ask.

"For you?" She clarified. "Do you want this for yourself?"

He blinked. "Do, um. Do you, Bea?"

She smiled again, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes," she whispered. It sounded almost like a confession.

Noor stared down at the green bag of chips, discarded on the counter. Then back at her. Bea was beautiful. Soft. Careful. She knew how to touch him, and she wanted to, to make him feel the things that he craved.

She confused him.

She could give him everything.

His throat was dry. "Yes," he croaked. "Yes, I... I want this, too. For... For myself."

Her hand that had held him at a distance curled up in his shirt and pulled him in, and then her lips were on his again, more urgent than before.

"Good," she breathed and pushed him against the counter. "Good. Then lean back, and let me go first."

This time, when she got to her knees, there was no misunderstanding.

Noor didn't have to do anything.

He just enjoyed.

Noor returned the favour, after, and then once more, later that evening.

Bea didn't sleep in Marta's bed. She'd fallen asleep curled up next to him, in his single bed in the guest room, his arm wrapped closely around her.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, the salty taste of sweat mingling with the after taste of vinegar chips still lingering on his lips.

He hadn't liked the cheesy ones at all. But they'd just tried the next sort. He'd like these much better, and Bea had just smiled at him, as if she'd always known.

"Thank you," he whispered against her skin, thinking about her initial question. "Maybe it's better than I thought."

She grunted softly in her sleep. And even though no one could see it, Noor smiled.

---

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#bbu #bbu revovery #pet safety series #noor the romantic #blanca #dubcon cw #maybe #implied sex #uhoh #I love them

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