#your estimated wait time is 48 minutes

[frogspond200]

Mother fucking Charachter AI

#character ai #your estimated wait time is 48 minutes #ai wait time #kill me #you betrayed me #puppy cat #bee and puppycat

[eternitas]

They never learn

A small one shot about Ava, once again, being challenged to a duel, with his opponent making a particularly bad move.

For the sake of convenience all languages have been reduced to be in english.

"What's going on?"

"Ava got challeged to a duel!"

"Ugh, again?"

The young rain division member looked at his Vincenso rather confused. Was this a common occurance? Noticing the young members look, the older man crossed his arms, seeing the crowd around the windows growing bigger as everyone tried to get a glimpse of the outside where the two opponents would hold their duel.

"Oh, there is constantly someone who comes here, new and with a lot of pride, believing that Ava got his position out of pure nepotism. Everyone who has been here for longer than a few months knows that that is absolute nonsense, but those kinds of people usually have more ego than common sense."

Sergey grinned when he heard the lightning division member explain the situation. These duels might've been a big annoyance to Ava, but to Sergey they became a source of entertainment. There was a certain pleasure he got from watching his collegue utterly obliterate his opponents, humbling them in the process. It was far more than simple Schadenfreude.

"Move."

He looked up when he heard the familiar voice.

"Oh, hey Lorenzo, welcome back, how was the mission?"

"Boring, did someone-"

"Yup. Fernando, one of your storms."

The tall man that had just arrived clicked his tongue in annoyance and crossed his arms, leaning against the frame of the open window.

"Jackass. He probably took the opportunity of me not being around."

Sergey laughed at that.

"Wouldn't be surprised! You're usually the only one in the storm division with enough common sense to stop people like that."

"Well, guess we'll have to see who takes over his work this week. He won't survive this."

Almost on queue a familiar voice started to advertize this rounds betting pool. Sergey looked at Lorenzo.

"Wanna bet?" They never joined the official betting pool, but they liked to still make a bet. Never if Ava would win or lose and rather how long these duels would last.

"500 Euro?"

"Are you crazy? I'm short! 50!"

"100."

"75!"

"Deal."

Sergey sighed.

"Okay, so? You have an advantage, the guy is in your division."

"I wasn't at the evaluation last time, so I don't know anything about him, aside of the fact that he is annoying as all hells." Sergey chuckled at that, eyes wandering back to the two opponents. Fernando was stretching, clearly showing off his muscles as he flexed and swung his big sword that was as 40cm wide and about an adult mans height. Ava was standing completely still and watching. Only ocassionally he moved to stretch and keep his body from going dormant.

"So?" Sergey asked and waited for Lorenzos estimation.

"Mh. Fiiiivv- no wait 7 minutes."

"You think he will pose such an issue?"

"No. Something else." Curious, Sergey looked back at his colleague.

"What?"

"Like I'll give you pointers. So? What you bet against?" He pushed air out of his nose, but then looked back towards the two swordfighters. Ava seemed to keep himself nible for the fight and already studied his opponent while Fernando wanted to boast and attract an even larger crowd.

"Then I'll say 5 minutes!" The two men shook hands, just before Sergey felt a tap to his shoulder and turned his head around to Leonard, a tall blonde guy, who looked especially anxious and signed in italian [I have a bad feeling about this.]

Sergey pat his best friends side.

"Don't worry. These things always end the same." Even if he said it to calm his best friend down, he knew that Leo wasn't particularly worried about Ava.

Slowly Avas patience was running out. How much did this guy want to stall? His eyes wandered up towards the open windows where he spotted Sergey and locked eyes with him. He signed him [Time?] and got signed back [16:48].

This is ridiculous.

"Fernando, could we please get on with this duel, I would like to be done with this before 5 o'clock." Ava heared a few people give a soft "oooh!" as if he had just deeply insulted his opponent, when what he said was 100% genuine. Fernando frowned and almost demonstratingly cracked his bones, moving his head from side to side. How pretentious.

"Yeah, sure. Didn't think you were so gung ho about getting your ass beaten, but sure! Let's give the people a show!"

"I'd rather end this quickly. I have a meeting with Captain Squalo." he said, watching Fernando wrap his hand around his big sword. Ava remained unmoving.

"Don't worry, I'll send your remains to him on time!"

Fernando was definitely quick, despite how heavy the weapon must've been, but it was still a big blade that Ava could sidestep-

Just as Avas foot touched the grass again he strongly pushed down to jump further back. His eyes were focused on the intricate swirls carved into the metal. Even if he had dodged the initial swing, they must've created a strong enough current that would've sucked him back in if he hadn't widened the distance.

"Not bad! You're the first one to dodge it right away! But that doesn't mean you can escape!"

He moved in quickly again, closing their distance and swinging his sword, using quick changes in his grip position to change the swing trajectory. Not bad. But predictable. Ava managed to dodge them all with just enough distance to not be sucked into the created vortex, when suddenly he felt a strong pull, way stronger than before and relaized he wouldn't be able to dodge this one. Instantly he yanked at his swords scabbard, the loop to his belt ripping, before he slightly drew his blade out and blocked the big sword with the steel.

"Ya think I'm that weak?! That the moment someone got behind the trick, I've run out of options?!"

Can't he just shut up and fight?

Repeatedly Fernando pulled Ava back in, forcing him to block with his sword and be pushed around due to the difference in their strength.

Up on the first floor a commotion began as people started to make space and mumbled, some even hushing a name and title. Sergey looked up as the people behind him quickly made space. Before he even saw his Captain the face of a blackhaired young man came into his view, leaning over the edge of the window.

"Isn't that, Ava?!" Yamamoto asked in japanese as he watched his mentors younger brother get pushed around the field. Squalo stood behind him, observant and calm. The rain division was so used to this whole ordeal, that it at most got annoyance from it's members and excitement at best. Nobody explained anything for the first seconds, before Sergey took pity on the confused young man.

"Ava gets regularly challenged to duels, because people think he got his position due to being the captains younger brother."

"But Ava is a great swordsman, he's really strong!"

"Ding ding ding! Exactly! That's why the only people stupid enough to try and fight him are those that need to be severely humbled. It's almost an initiation ritual for the new batch of recruits. Watch one of your colleagues get absolutely destroyed in front of everybody by the tiny shark."

"What's wrong, Ava?! All ya do is just defend! Are you that scared?!" Fernando yelled with another swing at the other, forcing Ava to widen their distance again. However Fernando didn't follow him anymore to pressure him. He seemed to get agitated. Just as planned. His ego demanded more.

"Will you properly draw your sword already and fight back?! I'm gonna look like an asshole, if I beat you without you attacking me too!"

"Shut up and just fight Fernando! We don't have all day!" Someone from the sidelines yelled towards him. It was someone from the Rain Division too.

"Ya really don't have any comrades here, huh? Not surprised, considering you are Squalos baby brother."

This again. Ava took the opportunity to get up properly and check for the snapped loop. Luckily he still had one he could use, but it was unfortunate-

"Honestly, don't even know why everyone's idolizing the guy anyway, he lost to a fucking middleschooler and tried to off himself in absolute shame! Honestly you're both pathetic. I'll go for him next! Then you two can at least reunite in hell!"

Immideatly the entire area grew absolutely silent. It was as if someone had already died. Squalo was the first to break the silence with a deep inhale and exhale, followed by Sergey sighing disappointed.

"Well, there we go."

"So, this will be over in about a minute." added Lorenzo.

Confused Yamamoto looked between the two swordsman and Lorenzo, then back at the fighting field and back at Squalo.

"Wait, what's going on?"

"Fernando just insulted the captain. And Ava is known for that being one of the few things you should NOT say in a fight against him."

Fernando yelled again.

"Go on! I'll even give you one freebie, goldfish!"

"Ooooh- yep, he's dead now." Sergey said once more as Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose. He had specifially told the others not to use that on Ava.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for Avas next move. Just as Fernando got impatient and wanted to yell again Ava moved, carefully reattaching his scabbard to his side.

"I see. Very well then."

Ava drew his sword, slowly and deliberately.

"No turning back now."

In an instant it was as if the air pressure had trippled, as if all of a sudden a cold gust of wind straight from the peaks of the alps swept over the entire area.

Murder intent.

That slight moment of perplexity was enough to make an opening for Ava. As if he appeared out of thin air Ava was in front of Fernando ready for his swing. He could barely move his big sword into a block, but as the Katana hit at slight an angle a weird vibration seemed to go through Fernandos body. His muscles were suddenly not responding anymore and he abandoned his weapon to jump back to distance. What the hell was that?!

"What's wrong? Running away?"

Up at the window Sergey gave a chuckled "Oooh!". Now it was getting interesting! The surrounding members, especially from the Rain Division had now relaxed and were eagerly watching the fight, cheering Ava on.

Out of a weapon it was now Fernando who was dodging, though to anyone familiar with swordfighting it was clear that Ava wasn't seriously chasing him and more shooing him around a bit, leading him back to his weapon that Fernando picked up with still some trouble. When the blades crossed, Ava striked before the big sword could gain any momentum and overpower him. He always swung at a slight angle that pushed every attack of his opponent back, but-

Sergey frowned.

"Why is he stalling?" he wondered loudly. With a hunch as to what the reason might be Lorenzo looked over to Squalo, who had been watching this entire time without saying a single word. It was as if he was completely turned to stone.

Fernando grew more frustrated with every blow that he tried to land and ultimately got interrupted in. This guy was not just half his weight and size, but also half his fucking age! There was no way that this child could already have such skill and strength! This BABY and the clown with his stupid needle were supposedly stronger than him?!

A grunt of anger left him as he swung again, this time he wasn't blocked, but merely redirected as Ava used his swords blade like a slide to guide the others weapon away. His opponent lost footing as the sword dug itself into the ground and next thing he knew he got a kick to his face that send him staggering back. Cursing under his breath he held his face, blood running out of his nose and a broken lip. This fucking brat! Ava actually moved away from the others sword.

"Pick it up. Or are you scared?"

"You-!" Fernando growled deeply and ran to pick up his sword. Both had clear rage inside of them and were ready for a final confrontation when the loudest voice of all cut through the air.

"VOI! AVA!"

It got instantly quiet again, Sergey pressing his hands against his ears as Squalo pushed Yamamoto aside to be properly visible in the window. Then he stretched his arm out, thumb up, before in the next moment he turned the thumb down like a roman emperor at the colloseum. Once he was sure the order was registered he pulled back from the window and left without another word. Disgruntled Lorenzo sighed.

"Not like we're already short on members."

"Squalo!" Yamamoto called out, ready to follow the captain before his curiosity pulled him back to see what Ava would do now.

Fernando had frozen the moment he heared Squalos voice. A deep part inside of him had wished the Varia captain would've called his brother back, but now he knew he had made a mistake. When they had tried to stop him he should've had listened. And now he had to survive. At least survive! Then he could still get the hell out of this place that bred nothing but monsters!

He leaned against his blade that was still halfway stuck in the ground, trying to get his body to calm down while Ava slowly lowered his stance, every muscle tense and both hands on his blades handle. what followed next was hard to see with the naked eye, but those who realized what Ava was doing could follow his movement.

In an instant he had passed Fernando, stricken once through his blade and his torso. And yet there was not a single sign of anything having happened except for a stain of blood from Fernandos chest. Ava had pierced his heart. His opponent stood there absolutely unmoving.

With a swift swing of his sword Ava rid his blade of any stray blood and then reached for a handkerchief to wipe the metal clean before he sheathed his katana. Yamamoto blinked.

"Well that's done now- Fuck! 11 minutes?!"

"Pay up, bitch."

Sergey grumbled before Takeshi turned to him.

"Wait, what happened? Ava clearly cleanly struck him!" Sergey seemed surprised at that. He had expected Yamamoto to realize what had happened, but then with a serious tone he spoke.

"Then there is only one explanation, right? It was level." Sergey said simply and passed the young man, fishing for his wallet.

"You're impossible!"

"You were the one that wanted to bet. Pay up."

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

Yamamoto noticed movement next to him and only then realized that next to him stood a guy almost 2 meter tall. He looked pale, hand in front of his mouth as if he was about to throw up in horror and disgust, even shaking a tadbit. What was wrong?

"Leo! Let's go buddy. Ya don't have to see that." Sergey said and the tall guy just nodded and turned away from the window, to follow his friend. Yamamoto looked back out the window only for his breath to hitch in his throat.

So that's what Sergey meant when he said "it was level"

Ava had struck the other man completely level to the ground in one clean cut, that it had taken almost a whole minute for the body to fall into two pieces, as did the sword. They had been cleanly cut. Yamamoto swiftly looked away. If he had stared for longer the sight of the spilled organs and the blood- the sight of a corpse would've made him sick.

Yamamoto had known from their one spar that Ava was insanely strong. But this was the first time he had realized something that he prior to that had dismissed, because they were both swordsman and in his eyes sportly rivals.

Ava truly was the sharks brother.

#unseen varia #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #reborn! #yes fucking sue me for using the main tag #khr oc #khr ocs #my writing #it's not the best I have ever written but hey it's late #varia #idk what else to tag #Lorenzo now has to rework everyones shifts to make up for one lost member #Ava also takes his sword maintenance VERY seriously so he always cleans his sword afterwards #one surefire way to piss him off is to insult Squalo #also I love depicting Squalo usually as a p calm and collected guy and just yelling and being erratic when stressed #also yes the rain division loves seeing Ava assert dominance #he and Sergey are actually quite popular as second in commands #I hope people got the few slight references I made #okay imma shut up now #tho please feel free to comment and reblog! i would appreciate it a lot!

[sibillascribbles08]

48. “I love you too much to let you humiliate yourself this way.”

See, the problem that happened is I read this and was like okay I can either make this very painful or kind of funny, and bat wanted angst, so then I had to not only write the painful thing but also the resolution and let me tell you this would not have resolved easy so ummmMMMMMM 5k fic. Basically Donnie fucks up really bad.

Added note, since a lot of these prompt fics take place after some other story stuff I haven't done yet, I try to avoid referencing thing from those. Could not avoid it this time. Comet is a telepathic mushroom kid, they're just there don't worry about it.

“Jase, this isn’t going to work.”

His boyfriend turned to glare at him, arms wrapped around a box that he carried toward the back door of the office building. “And how do you know? You had no part in building this or testing it.”

Donatello refrained from saying that’s exactly why he didn’t think it would work. “But have you tested for everything they might ask from it? Drones aren’t a new invention, Jase.” 

He rolled his eyes. “What is with you? I know what I’m doing here Donnie, and if I don’t make it that’ll be on me, but the least you could do is have a little more faith in my work.”

“But why do you even need to do this?”

“Because I can’t stay as a security intern forever.” 

“You won’t. I just need to—”

“Donnie, be realistic, do you even have an estimate for when you can bring your tech company to the surface?”

Donatello cringed at that, not having an answer. 

“Until you do, I need to find a better job.” He adjusted his grip on the box as he opened the door. “And that starts with me trying this. If you aren’t going to cheer me on then go home.” 

Donatello didn’t say anything as the door shut in his face. He absolutely would not go home. If Jase was that determined to do this, he had to make sure this drone blew these higher ups out of the water. Not literally, of course. 

His boyfriend had been planning this for a few weeks. And while at first, Donatello had been just as excited and eager, looking at the fancy building in front of him he just felt nervous. What if their standards were too high? Or too stupid? What if they wanted to see something they’d never seen before? He’d seen Jason’s reactions to rejection before. He couldn’t let that happen.

He activated his vision, using it to follow Jase up a few floors. He activated his shell to hover up there, keeping close to the wall to avoid being spotted. As soon as he found an empty room, he climbed inside. 

Thank goodness buildings this big were shockingly empty. Slipping through the halls was child’s play, and he hid away in the room just across from where Jase’s signal stopped. 

After a few minutes, an employee came by, and Jase stepped out to follow her, box not in hand.

Donatello squinted after him before darting across the hall. The box waited on the breakroom table, more than easy to open. 

Vision still active, he quickly picked apart the mechanics of it. At least it was built solid, but so simple. Didn’t Jase want to wow these people? 

Donatello used his ninpo to summon a few tools. 

He managed to fiddle with it for at least ten minutes, and started closing it back up when he heard the doorknob.

He tried to dive under the table, but too late.

“Donnie?” Jason hissed. Then he glanced into the hall before shutting the door. “What are you doing?” 

Donatello stared back at him, screwdriver still in hand. “Uhhh.” 

His boyfriend glanced at him, then at the box. “Wh… were you messing with my drone?” 

“What? No.” He made the tool vanish before straightening up. “I was just—” 

“Donatello.” Jase used his full name as he stomped forward. “Do not lie to me.” 

He bared his teeth and crossed his arms. “I was just giving something a bit extra to—” 

“What is wrong with you?” Jase grabbed his jacket and shook him. “Why will you not just let me handle this?” 

“Because what if it’s not enough?” Donatello tried to pull himself free. “This is a big place, Jase, they might want something more.” 

Jase’s grip went slack. “What? You just think I’m not good enough?” 

Anxiety twisted in his chest when he realized how all of this sounded. “No. No. That’s not it. It’s just that they might think that way. You have to blow the minds of people like this, Jase.”

“I just need to show them I can develop my own tech.” Jason shoved Donatello back and stomped around him. “Speaking of which, they’re waiting on me. Go home.” 

Wait, was that even a good idea? Donatello hadn’t finished patching up the drone. There’d be a risk of something going wrong. He slipped in front of his boyfriend. “Hang on.”

“No.” Jason tried to move around him again. “I have an interview to finish.”

“Jase—”

“Donnie, will you let it go?”

“No! I love you too much to let you humiliate yourself this way.” 

Jason straightened up and froze. His eyes widened, grip on the box faltering as he stared.

Wait, no. Those words came out all wrong. Donatello  needed to rephrase and repeat it before—

“So you just have no faith in me?” 

The words got stuck in Donatello’s throat as he watched Jason’s gaze move to the floor before snapping back up in a glare. 

“Get out of my way.” Jason stomped past him toward the door. 

Donatello reached out to stop him, but missed. 

Damn. Damn damn damn. What did he do now? He couldn’t follow Jason into the interview room. Every time in the past he tried to fix a mistake while under that much stealth it never went well.

Maybe all he could do was let Jase do his thing and wait for him at the exit. 

Donatello left the way he came in, hovering down to the street level and tucking himself away next to the dumpster. He kept fiddling with his sleeves and glancing at his phone. Anything to try and keep his anxiety down. Maybe it’d be fine. Even if he didn’t close it up properly that didn’t guarantee it would break or fall apart. Jason could just run it through whatever he had planned and that would be that. 

Every time he checked his phone, he checked the time. It took ten minutes for the door to open, hard. The outside knob slammed into the wall.

Donatello peeked out from behind the dumpster to see Jason step out, box in hand. His gaze was fixed down at it, mouth pressed into a flat line. 

Donatello dared to step out of his hiding place. “Jase?” 

His boyfriend stumbled before he straightened back up. He glared at him not even a second later, fire behind his dark eyes. 

He stomped over, shoving the box into Donatello’s arms before the turtle could say anything.

He glanced at the drone. What had been mostly intact last he saw it, now had a gaping hole in the top. Scorch marks surrounded it, and the smell of burnt plastic hovered in the air. 

Oh. It didn’t go well, did it? 

“This is all your fault.” Jase mumbled and began to walk away.

More than enough confirmation to his suspicions. Guilt swallowed him in an instant, as if he hadn’t already been drowning in it. 

He ran to catch up with his boyfriend. “Jase, wait—”

“Go away, Donnie.”

“I’m sorry.” He drew closer. “I was trying to help. I was trying to—”

Jason whirled on him, finger already pressing hard against his chest. “Trying to help? If you were trying to help, why weren’t you listening to me? Why didn’t you trust me?” 

Donatello curled up as he stepped away. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough. I thought—”

“Do you think I didn’t research this place before I applied? You think I didn’t read up on everything they look for when it comes to tech development? Do you think I’m stupid?”

That made him straighten back up. “No!” 

“Then why did you interfere? Why did you—” Jason’s words were cut off with a sob, but he took in a sharp breath and held his glare. “You’re impossible sometimes.” 

He turned to leave once again. Donatello grabbed his arm. He couldn’t let this conversation end like this. 

“Jase, please—”

“Let me go.” 

“I’m sorry. I was trying to say earlier that I hadn’t finished putting it back together so—” 

Jason tried to tug himself free. “I don’t want to hear your excuses right now.” 

Donatello tightened his grip. “I’m just trying to explain—”

“Let me go!” 

“I didn’t meant to—” 

The slap struck hard. The sound echoed off the asphalt and the concrete. Pain bloomed in Donatello’s cheek as he stood there, paralyzed. His grip on Jason’s arm went slack, as well as his grip on the box. The whole thing fell to the ground with a crash. 

His now empty hand moved up to press against his stinging cheek. Jason stared at him, hand still in the air as he took a step back. He looked frightened, eyes tearing up. 

The shock settled around Donatello’s shoulders as the whole thing sank in. Jase just slapped him. Somehow, in spite of all their bickering, he’d never done that before. 

It didn’t make him angry, really. Just surprised, and hurt in more ways than one. But when he opened his mouth to try and say something, Jase bolted. 

Donatello took a step to follow, but his foot slammed into the box. He stumbled, the shock once again holding him in place. All he could do was watch numbly as Jase disappeared down the street. 

He glanced down at the box, and the broken drone that now half lay on the road. He reached down to pick it all up, putting it back in place. His thumb ran over the scorched metal, feeling the frayed ends of the wires. 

What did he do?

And how was he supposed to fix it? 

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

Donatello gave it some time. He and Jase always needed space after an argument and no doubt this would be no exception. Despite how much he wanted to show up ASAP with a bullet point essay on all the reasons he was sorry, Jase probably wouldn’t listen to it. 

So he gave it a day, dodging his family as much as possible because speaking was… difficult, to put it simply. He resorted in most cases to some quick sign language or just asking Comet to speak for him. In the meantime he worked on the drone, fixing it properly. No more extra fancy bells and whistles. There probably wasn’t much point, but maybe if Jase found another place to apply to, he could use it again. 

With the fixed drone in tow, Donatello flew over to Jason’s house. These days, after introducing himself to Mr. Song, he would often just knock on the front door. But he didn’t exactly want Jason’s dad to see him when he was already riddled with this much guilt. It’d make everything worse.

He stood under Jason’s window and reached out, starting to climb the wall.

The front door opened. 

Donatello scrambled back down and glanced to the side to see Mr. Song staring at him. The man had on his casual wear—tank top and sweatpants—and held a glass of wine in his hand. 

Donatello just stood there, hands still on the wall. “Ah…”

“Donatello.” The man’s tone was unusually cold. “You know how to knock on the door. I know you do.”

“I was just—” 

“Front door.”

Donatello flinched before he let go of the wall and hung his head. “Y-yes sir.” 

He gripped the bag he had slung over his shoulder, the one carrying the drone, and followed his boyfriend’s father into the house. The door closed, and the house felt far too quiet. He looked up the stairs, seeing the door to Jase’s room was shut.

He was just about to make his way up the steps when Mr. Song slipped in front of him. A hand on the chest held him back, even with no force behind it.

Donatello blinked and straightened up. “Um…” 

“Keep your voice down.” The man hissed. “Unless you want Jase to find out you’re here, if he doesn’t suspect you are already.” 

“Well, Jase is the whole reason I’m here.”

Mr. Song narrowed his eyes. “Donnie, I’m going to be blunt with you. Jase doesn’t want to see you right now. And after hearing what happened, I don’t blame him.” 

Ah, as if that wasn’t another sledge hammer to the chest. Donatello kept gripping the strap, feeling the texture of it underneath his fingers. “I know I messed up.”

“That’s putting it lightly, though I imagine you know that.”

Donatello did know that, but he had no idea how else you were supposed to phrase it. I caused a nuclear explosion? I set fire to the woods? 

“I just want to fix this.” He mumbled. 

“I trust that you do, but that doesn’t mean this is the time or place. Jase told me not to let you just walk up there and, unlike you, I listen to my son.”

Ouch. Donatello couldn’t keep himself from curling up after that verbal blow. “I just…”

He just what? Wanted to help? He couldn’t keep making that excuse. Jason was right. Donatello should have listened. He should have trusted him. The interview didn’t need to be perfect or dazzling, just good enough to land him a job. And Donatello not only wrecked that opportunity but sent a very clear message in the process. 

“Can I at least try?” He muttered. 

Mr. Song sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask. But if he says no, I’m shooing you out of here. And don’t think I can’t.” He pointed at Donatello before heading up the stairs.

Mr. Song’s reaction to him just made this situation hurt all the more. Normally the guy was always so excited to see him, chattering away, asking questions or inviting him to game nights. Now he stared at Donatello like one wrong step could prompt an attack.

Maybe it would.

After only a minute—that felt like an eternity—Mr. Song came back out of the bedroom and headed downstairs.

“He said you can go in.” The man sipped at his wine. “But I suggest you choose your words carefully.” 

Yeah, Donatello didn’t need to be told that. Still, he felt the pressure as Mr. Song stood there and watched him go up the stairs and open the door.

The room was dark. Jason lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, or glaring at it. 

Donatello didn’t say anything at first. He shut the door and set the drone on the nearby computer desk. 

Then he glanced back at Jase, wondering if he should sit down. No, there was no reason to get comfy. If Jason didn’t want to see him there was a high chance he’d be kicked out of here at any point. 

Still, he took a few steps closer. “Um… hey.” 

Jase fixed his glare on Donatello before looking back at the ceiling. “What do you want?” 

“I want to apologize. I want to fix this.” He tugged at his sleeves. 

“Fix it how, Donnie?” Jason waved an arm before letting it flop against the mattress. “The job opportunity is a complete bust, and besides, me failing that interview is only a small part of why I’m so pissed off.” 

Donatello’s fingers dug into the material of his jacket before moving down to the back of his hands. “I know I should have just let you handle this. I just—”

“You just what?” Jason sat up this time. “I don’t understand you. You asked me to run a company with you because you insist I’d be good at it. You constantly try to flatter me over my attention to detail. And then whenever something like this comes around you insist on butting your way in.” 

“I want to make sure it goes well.”

“I didn’t ask you to!” Jason snapped. 

Donatello flinched, scratching harder. “I know.”

“If you know then why do you do it?”

This conversation felt like it was going in circles. Was he just not explaining himself clearly? Not explaining enough? “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jase.”

“I want you to be honest with me. Do you actually think I’m capable? Or do you think you have to carry me around everywhere?” 

“I do think you’re capable.” Donatello insisted. “I just want to help. I want things to be perfect.”

“If I want your help, I’d ask.”

“I know.”

“And even if you insisted, you should listen to me when I tell you ‘no.’”

“I know!” Donatello snapped, in spite of how hard he was trying not to. “I know. I know I screwed up Jase. How many times do you have to say it? How many times do I have to apologize? What do you want me to do to fix this?” 

Jason’s glare softened, but it still looked incredibly cold. “I want you to trust me. I want us to stop having this stupid song and dance every time something big comes up, and having the same argument, and hearing the same apologies.” He pulled his knees up to his chest as his gaze turned away. “You asked me to be your partner after asking me to be your business partner, but now I’m starting to wonder if either of those things are going to work out.” 

Lead filled up Donatello’s lungs. The part of his scales now turning raw from all the scratching, simply went numb. “Wh-what are you saying?” 

Jason still didn’t look at him. In fact, bit by bit, he hid his face more and more.

That had to be a joke. Or Donatello just misunderstood it. Jason wasn’t actually implying they should go their separate ways. After everything? 

He couldn’t vocalize any of these questions. Everything shut down in slow motion. His hands went slack before falling to his sides. His lungs refused to move. 

There was a brief second of anger and desperation. A part of him that wanted to scream. Insist they shouldn’t do this. If something was broken he could fix it. He could fix it. He just needed the time and materials and he could fix anything. 

But not if Jase didn’t want it fixed. 

“I…” Donatello could only manage the single pronoun before he grit his teeth together. He tried to force out another, but his throat felt so tight. 

What should he do? He felt so stupid just standing here, at a loss for words. Jason just told him to get out of his life and maybe this time he should listen.

So he did. 

He didn’t exactly bolt from the room, but his strides were swift as he went out the door and down the stairs. He made it outside and onto the front steps when Mr. Song stopped him.

“Donnie?” The man stood in the doorway. “Everything okay?” 

In different circumstances, Donatello might have told him. Mr. Song had proven more than once to be a safe place to discuss life problems. But this whole thing was Donatello’s fault, so what could he say? 

“I have to go.” Was all he could manage before he shell opened up and he took off. 

He didn’t listen to whoever called after him. 

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

“Okay, guys? We’re having an intervention.” Leonardo clapped his hands as he stared at two of his brothers. The third one—the reason for the intervention—was still locked up in his bedroom. 

Mikey frowned. “Leo, Donnie’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in our help.” 

“I don’t care. It’s been three whole days.” Leonardo opened his arms before he paced back and forth. “And one of those he wasn’t even home. Shelldon had to find him curled up on top of a building where he’d spent the entire night. He needs to eat something. We’re lucky he’s taking the water we leave.” 

Raph let out a long sigh, holding onto Comet who sat on his lap. “I know you’re worried, Leo, I am too. But just what are we supposed to do?” 

Leonardo glanced at the young mushroom yokai. “Maybe Comet could—”

“Nope.” Raph snapped. “We’ve talked about this.” 

“Fine, fine.” Leonardo waved a hand. “Then our only other two options are either I annoy him until he talks or Mikey tries something with Dr. Feelings.” 

Mikey clearly didn’t like that idea, but stood. “Fine, it’s been a couple of days. I suppose I can try again. Better than having a screamfest break out.” 

Leonardo scoffed. Like his interrogations on his twin ever got that bad. 

Donnie sad. Comet’s voice popped into his head. 

He looked toward the mushroom child. “Yeah, we know.” 

They narrowed their eyes. Sad. Grief sad. Loss.

“Lost what?”

Jase. They grabbed the top of their feet and rocked back and forth on Raph’s lap.

“Huh?” Raph almost shouted. “Did Jase die?” 

Comet jumped. No. No die. Just lost.

Leonardo shook his head. Sometimes translating the telepathy messages got far too tricky. “How about we just ask Donnie?” 

“On it. Wish me luck.” Mikey clicked his teeth to summon Triple Todd up onto his shoulder and headed in the direction of Donnie’s room.

Leonardo hated standing around, but wasn’t sure what else to do. At least he wasn’t the only one bored. Comet hopped off Raph’s lap, announcing they were going to get a snack, and trotted off to the kitchen. Raph wound up following because even after all this time he was still worried that Comet may drop something on their head. 

He flopped onto the sofa, shoulders scrunched up to his jaw as he waited.

He actually started dozing off when Mikey came back, huge frown on his face. His prop glasses tapped against his hand.

Leonardo sat up. “So? Anything?” 

“I think Donnie and Jase broke up.”

It took a second for that sentence to register. And when it did, Leonardo shouted, “What?” at the top of his lungs, mouth hanging open. 

Those two breaking up? It didn’t even seem possible. They were practically attached at the hip. Two parts of a whole.

Not that Leonardo would ever say stuff like this out loud.

“Donnie won’t give me a lot of details.” Mikey tapped the glasses faster before he finally just put them away. “But he said that Jase is apparently through with him. His words.”

“It’s gotta be some kind of misunderstanding, right?” Leonardo stood. “A bad argument that just has to be cleared up?”

Mikey sighed. “If I knew Leo, I would have told you.”

“Well, what do we—”

Soft footsteps interrupted him. He glanced at the floor to see Comet scurrying across the room, jumping now and then.

Jase. Their thoughts chimed through the air as they went. Jase. Jase. Jase. 

Leonardo just watched them until it registered. Jase was here? In the lair?

He took off after his nibling, following them all the way to the entrance. Comet didn’t pay Leonardo any mind, making a b-line for Jase as he slipped inside. 

Jase. They kept chanting and floated themselves into the air. 

Jase seemed to be taken off guard, but still caught them in his arms. “Uh, hey Comet.” He glanced up. “Hey Leo…” 

Leonardo couldn’t keep himself from frowning. He rested his hands on his hips as he came to a stop. “Please tell me you’re here to fix things with Donnie and not take home whatever you’re keeping from the divorce.” 

Jason blinked and stared at him. “D-divorce?” 

“Look, I don’t exactly know details, but we’ve kind of gathered that you two had a break up.” 

“B-break up? No, I wasn’t…” He sighed. “Though I’m pretty sure Donnie interpreted it that way.” Then he shook his head and gently set Comet on the floor. “Doesn’t matter. This is our business, butt out of it.” 

Leonardo didn’t let Jase get very far, teleporting in front of him and holding out a hand. “Hey. It kind of is a bit of my business when my brother won’t come out of his room for three days straight.” 

“So what are you going to do? Lecture me before I go and try to fix all of this? You don’t need to be involved.”

Leonardo opened his mouth to argue, but Comet slipped into his field of vision. His nibling tugged on Jason’s shorts before trying to pull him down the hall.

“Look.” Leonardo followed after them. “I just want to be sure that my brother’s going to be getting better after this, not worse.” 

“What, do you want me to make promises?” Jason kept his gaze fixed forward. “I can’t do that, Leo. There’s a chance this conversation is going to go just as badly as the last one. And if that happens… I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

Yeesh. Leonardo wasn’t sure if he wanted all the details to this mess, because it sounded big. Bigger than anything that came before it. “Just let Comet know if one of us should intervene. How about that?”

Jason scoffed. Comet let go of him and he continued on his own toward Donnie’s lab. “Like I said, I’m not making any promises.” 

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

It took a few tries to even get in Donnie’s room.

Jason knocked, then used the speaker, but it took his fourth time insisting that Donnie open up so they could talk for anything to actually happen. 

Of course it shut behind him, leaving him in the dark except for some purple and blue lights that came from the small stand for plants that Donnie kept near his bed. 

Speaking of, that’s where the softshell was curled up, hiding not only under the sheets but a whole bundle of pillows. 

“Thought you said you never wanted to see me again.” Donnie croaked. 

Jason bit back his sarcasm. “No. My exact words were, ‘I don’t know if either of those things are going to work out.’ What I meant by that is if we keep encountering the same problem over and over again, I don’t know how long I can take it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I should have phrased it better, but I didn’t mean to imply we should split up.” 

“Not sure how else I was supposed to interpret that.” Donnie growled before retreating further under the pile of cushions. 

Fine. He was mad. Upset. Probably all kinds of messed up if he really hadn’t been out of his room for a few days. Truthfully, Jason was also mad still. At least he cleared his head enough to accept the fact that Donnie was sorry. 

But this problem really wouldn’t get fixed unless both of them were in a position to listen.

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you just want me to come back later? Give you some space?” 

Silence. Jason chose to be patient, waiting for an actual response before he did anything.

Then the pillows shifted before a muffled sob came from underneath them. 

Jason’s heart constricted in his chest. He shoved a few of the plush squares to the side before the whole hill fell apart when Donnie pushed himself up. 

“No.” Tears covered his cheeks. “Space is the last thing I want right now.” 

Jason figured he knew what that meant, but Donnie didn’t reach toward him, so he reached out instead as he sat on the bed. 

Donnie practically collapsed in his arms, burning his face in Jason’s stomach as he clung to him. He kept crying and Jason didn’t bother to make him stop. Truthfully, he felt like doing the same thing. 

This whole situation sucked. 

“I’m sorry.” Donnie mumbled. “I’m really really sorry. I know you’re right. I know I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just listened to you.”

“Donnie.” Jase interrupted, tightening his grip. “I know you’re sorry. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” 

Donnie didn’t look up at him. “You still sound mad at me.” 

He let out a long sigh, curling up so he could rest his chin on Donnie’s head. “I am still mad, to be honest. But not to the point where I can’t accept your apology, even if it takes a bit longer for me to forgive you. Not to the point where I’m going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” 

“Okay.” Donnie’s sobs quieted down, but he didn’t let go. 

Jason just kept holding onto him, eventually pulling his legs up on the bed and laying on his side. The motion forced Donnie to adjust his grip, but he stayed close, nuzzling against Jason’s chest. 

“Donnie, from now on, if I point out that you’re not listening to me, please do me a favor and listen to me.” 

“I can try that.”

And Jason believed it. In spite of how stubborn his boyfriend could be, he’d already seen him change a lot just within the time they’d known each other. Getting an apology from Donnie used to be like pulling teeth, and now the turtle would do it the minute he realized he made a mistake.

Well, at least as far as Jason was concerned. Apparently he still hated giving an apology to Leo. 

“I’ll try not to drag you into my doom spirals.” Jason added. “It wasn’t nice of me to imply we should split up.” 

Donnie hummed, though it almost sounded like a growl. “I should have given you at least one more day to cool off.” 

“Yeah, probably.” Jason agreed. He let one of his hands slide down Donnie’s neck and his shoulder, nails gently scraping over his scales. 

“Jase?”

“Yeah?”

“I really really love you. So I want to help you. And then it gets out of hand.” 

Jason sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. “I know. That’s why you just need to listen to me when I tell you to stop.” 

“Yeah.” Donnie agreed. “I’ll… try to work on that.” 

“That’s all I ask. And for the record, I love you too.” He ran his fingers over the turtle’s skin again. “But you’re barred from coming with me to job interviews ever again.” 

Donnie actually let out a short laugh. “Yeah uh, that’s fair.” 

Jason smiled and rested his head on the blankets, letting his forehead bump into Donnie’s shoulder. 

In spite of some still lingering resentment, there’s still nowhere he’d rather be. 

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

Leonardo looked up from his comic book, glancing at his phone. Almost two hours had passed and not a word from Donnie’s room.

He glanced at Comet who sat on the floor, building what they referred to as ‘The Pit of Eternal Suffering’ to put a handful of their toys in as punishment.

“Hey, Comet,” Leonardo said.

They glanced up, eyes wide.

“Are Donnie and Jase doing okay?”

A low buzz rang through the air as their gaze became distant, fixed on something far far away.

Then they returned to their toys. Asleep. 

Leonardo blinked. “Need to elaborate there a bit, little man.” 

They narrowed their eyes. They are asleep. Unconscious. Dreams I will not look at. No no.

“But they aren’t upset?”

Not enough to notice. Now be silent. Comet shot him a glare as they held up a pair of figures. Dr. Chimcham must be punished.

Leonardo snorted at the name, but didn’t say anything. Not that it mattered, Comet probably heard his internal comment anyway, but they didn’t reply.

He looked at his phone again and opened his texts, looking at the one Mr. Song sent him over an hour ago asking how it was going. He typed up a reply.

>I think they’re going to be okay.

Still. Donnie hadn’t eaten anything. No doubt his twin would be clawing at the walls for a snack when he came to. 

Leonardo got up and stretched. Time to see what leftovers Mikey still had in the fridge.

#scribbly fics #rottmnt #jasonnie #posting this now idc I got a flight tomorrow #did not comb this for typos if you see one no you didn't

[sunflowershillstore]

Japan Airlines wants to help you leave your suitcase at home

CNN —Unsure what to pack from your wardrobe for a vacation to Japan? If you’re flying with Japan Airlines, the answer could be nothing at all.

Japan’s flag carrier has started a year-long trial of a service that allows travelers to book a set of clothes — covering different sartorial styles and seasons — and receive it at their hotel upon arrival. At the end of the stay the clothes are returned, to be washed and cycled back into the system.

Called Any Wear, Anywhere, the service runs through the end of August 2024 and Japan Airlines says it could cut carbon emissions by reducing the weight carried by its airplanes.

Any Wear, Anywhere estimates that about 22 pounds (10 kilograms) saved in luggage equals about 16.5 pounds (7.5 kilograms) saved in emissions — the equivalent of running a hair dryer 10 minutes a day for 78 days.

“I love traveling and I’ve been to many foreign countries, but I’ve always dreaded dragging around luggage or doing laundry abroad,” says Miho Moriya, who came up with the idea and manages Any Wear, Anywhere for Sumitomo, the Japanese company that handles reservations, deliveries and laundering of the clothes.

“When traveling, the three most important things for me are accommodation, food and clothing,” she adds. “When we travel abroad, there are hotels and restaurants that provide lodging and food on site, but not clothing. Why do we have to bring our clothes from home?”

A selection of clothes from Any Wear, Anywhere's women's summer casual range.Any Wear, Anywhere

Apparel for all seasons

Moriya submitted the idea for the service through an internal entrepreneurial challenge within her company, and she says that once it was approved, after a delay due to the pandemic, it took “many tries” to find an airline that was willing to support it.

Users of the service log onto the website and choose from a few options — women or men’s clothing; which season they’re for; smart or casual styling; the number of tops and bottoms; and dates for pickup and return. Their selections will be waiting for them at the hotel, for prices that range between $34 and $48 for the whole rental period.

All garments are either pre-owned or sourced from company overstock, although users can’t see this information about their selection. The service has been running since the start of July, and Moriya says that the response has been overwhelmingly positive. “We have requests from all over the world and over 115 countries in total, even though we’re not doing any kind of promotion,” she says, adding that the United States and Australia are the countries with the largest number of users.

The true impact of the trial will only be revealed at the end, once Japan Airlines tallies the weight savings and calculates the exact reduction in emissions. “We have to see the final results before we can say if this service is sustainable or not,” says Moriya, adding that the calculations will factor in the emissions produced by the deliveries of the clothes and the laundering.

Cutting weight, cutting emissions?

Weight reduction is a proven way to save fuel and reduce emissions, and it’s been factored in by aircraft manufacturers and airlines for a long time, for example by designing lighter passenger seats or replacing heavy paper manuals with tablets. Even small changes can have a large impact: when Qantas redesigned its tableware for first and business class to be just 11% lighter, the company says it started saving 1.1 million pounds (535 metric tons) of fuel per year.

However, Japan Airlines must be able to see a statistically significant reduction in baggage weight, says Gary Crichlow, an aviation analyst at consulting firm AviationValues. “Should they determine whether passengers are indeed traveling with less baggage,” he adds, “they must next determine whether there is a causal link to the initiative.”

Once that’s proven, the challenge would be to ensure that the lower weight actually translates into reduced fuel consumption. “What matters from an emissions standpoint is how much fuel is burnt hoisting the total weight over the aircraft into the air and keeping it there until it lands in Japan,” he says.

“It doesn’t matter whether the weight comes from passengers, bags, cargo, crew, or catering. As aircraft real estate is highly valuable, there will always be an economic incentive to offset the reduced passenger baggage weight with additional revenue-generating belly cargo. That may not necessarily be a bad thing from a holistic point of view, if it results in the most efficient use of the aircraft’s cargo capacity. But it would appear to run contrary to the stated aim of the initiative. Therefore, transparency as to the real weight saved per flight (if any), and fuel consumption reduced as a result, will be key.”

[jasonblaze72]

#ILiterallyJustToldYou #tvshow

[sanktnikolais]

Feed The Wolves

A/N: your local zoyalai stan neighbor is here yet again for another content but this time it’s for @wafflesandkruge​‘s birthday!!! I went way overboard with this ig but the Vincenzo fever we’ve been on for the past two weeks was still strong and the ending still tugs at my heart. So pls have this mess, Tiff, I’m sorry HAHDKLHJAFDS Happy birthday, dearest! 🥺🥺

Word count: 13 874

CW: graphic depictions of violence and gore. Read at your own risk.

The Lantsovs have finally taken their move to overthrow the Brums’ tyranny to the extremities. They thought they already have the upper hand and that the odds are finally on their side. But in a game that two players have nothing and everything to lose, there is always a catch in every move they make, and with it also comes a price.

How far are they willing to take it?

If Nikolai could be proud of one moment, he knew it would be today. One couldn’t just make an easy audience with the head of the Brum Family; usually it would take nearly a week to set up an appointment. Jarl Brum was one of the first men to establish their own Families, along with the Tabans, Lantsovs, and the Morozovas, and he was the most powerful among them. 

          For now. 

          When one of the biggest Families was in a war and planning to attack another with the same reputation, it was only necessary to play carefully. Especially going against a cunning opponent like Jarl Brum. Today’s predicament was tricky; one wrong move could cost them the chance. Or worse—their lives. Either way, it was dangerous. But if they didn’t at least try to keep the Brums at bay, it would only be a matter of time before they take over all the cities, including Os Alta. And considering how they handled things, lots of lives could be lost. 

          There was still another way out of this, but it involved extreme measures and there would be no returning after that. He could only hope he wouldn’t have to settle for that last resort no matter how slim his chances were.

          Nikolai snapped the lid of his lighter closed, his loud mind finding solace in the metallic clink it made. His eyes caught on the engraving on the side of the lighter. Consigliere Idiot. He fought a smile. The lighter had been a gift to him by Zoya on his birthday a few years back, and it somehow became his talisman ever since. It was a weird kind of gift at first, with Zoya knowing too well that he didn’t smoke that much. But he still got attached to it. 

          You never know, it might come in handy when you suddenly have an urge to set some place on fire, was what she had told him. 

          He scoffed at the memory, and then took a deep breath as he focused on his current situation. The risks of having this meeting turn to the bloodbath Nikolai was expecting were high, and if he were to be honest, winning a fight against the Brums was almost impossible. 

          But he was never the one to believe in impossible. Only improbable. The one thing he could do now was to put faith on the odds being at their side at the end of the day.

          He flicked his lighter open and closed again before checking his watch. The bright numbers glared back at him like a countdown of a time bomb nearing its detonation. 17:48. Twelve minutes. 

          If his estimate was right, Zoya and her men would have arrived by now and started their raid. But knowing the Lantsov Underboss to be careful and precise, they would need a bit more time. It only meant Nikolai had to continue making small talks with the man to try and see if he could settle a score with the Don without the use of violence. Talking proved to be a bit difficult, though, as the head of the Family was being attentive to focusing on his paperworks rather than Nikolai’s presence.

          "The numbers are really unstable in the past two weeks and it's mostly plummeting," said Jarl as his eyes scanned the paper he was holding for the last time. Then with a dramatic sigh, he opened the drawer to his right and put the file inside, plastering a rather fake smile on his lips afterwards. "There's been a lot of visitors."

          Nikolai could see right through the man's displeasure. He almost laughed. At least the feeling is mutual. "Tell me about it," he said with a light laugh. "Having your business overrun without any reason sure does something to you." 

          A shadow crossed the Don's face, but Nikolai only smiled innocently and held his gloved hand out for a handshake, a sort of formal gesture between a Don and a Consigliere before and after every meeting. Anyone lower than the Underboss aren't allowed to touch the head of a Family, and they could only do as much as bow in respect for the Don. 

          Jarl accepted it reluctantly, his grip firm as if he were contemplating breaking Nikolai’s hand. Nikolai was grateful when the man didn't. Maybe because it wasn't a good sight to have and talk business to a Consigliere with a broken hand. 

          "A pleasant afternoon, isn't it?" mused Nikolai as he took a sip of the coffee. It tasted good, but not nearly as good as Genya's brew. No poison. Or maybe there was and the effects just weren't kicking in yet. He suddenly wished for the woman's knack on any poison. "The perfect chance to kill time.”

          The Brum Don laughed lightly, the sound mildly threatening as if he had just thought of something vile. “Indeed, Consigliere,” he said, leaning back more comfortably in his chair. “Is the coffee good? I apologize if it isn’t, but I do hope the atmosphere is comfortable.”

          Nikolai fought a wince. He had been here a few times before. Jarl’s office was ice white—ranging from the walls, floorings, and the ceiling. Even the chair he was sitting on had been white. The only thing that gave another color to the pasty room were the furniture and a few appliances. At least his couches were blood red, and the view of the huge window behind his desk was different in shade. Nikolai was thankful for the change of scenery. 

          “No, no. Everything is good.” It sounded fake, considering how he despised the man's office. But he shook it off. He tipped the mug up in a toast. “I appreciate it, and thank you for accepting my appointment.” He found it funny and silly, when Jarl’s caporegimes used the term “appointment”. It was as if Nikolai wanted to get his teeth checked by a dentist, and considering how the man’s office looked, maybe it really was one. “I thought it would take me another week to wait for the confirmation.”

          “You’re a Lantsov, from the first pioneers of the Families.” Jarl paused, a hint of a sneer appearing on his face. “You needn’t to be delayed.”

          There was something the way Jarl spoke that didn’t sit well with Nikolai, like the man knew something he didn’t. A thought crossed his mind, but he shook it off. There was no way Jarl knew about that. Or was it? It was not impossible—the Brum Don had a wide network of informants. Rumor had it that there were a few in Os Alta, the city that the Lantsovs had control over. 

          Him knowing about Nikolai’s real father would only give him power against them. But then Nikolai still decided to brush it off, though its dangerous possibility still lingered at the back of his mind. It wasn’t the time to think of it. They had to take back the territories that were once theirs, even if they had to do it by brute force. It’s what Zoya would have preferred, anyway.

          “That’s good to hear,” said Nikolai with a tight smile.

          The man crossed his hands over the table, a glint evident in his eyes. Nikolai didn’t know what to make out of it. “So let’s hear it, Consigliere,” said Jarl. “What brings the Lantsovs here?”

          Straight to the point. Nikolai put his mug back to the desk and removed his gloves, exposing his scarred hands. Jarl’s eyes flitted to Nikolai's hands for a moment before looking away, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Nikolai felt a sneer twitch on his lips. Scars weren’t new to people like them—they had new ones very often, depending on the work they were doing that time. It was their brand, and they wear it with pride.

          But if people knew the history of the scars you bore, especially when you had gotten it from being the vicious Enforcer who once intimidated the streets of Halmhend, you would have an ace against your enemies. And for Nikolai, he exactly just had that. 

          “We’re eyeing the areas in Halmhend and Ulensk for expansion,” he said, and he noticed the Brum Don perk up a little from his chair. Now Nikolai had his attention. “I heard that the two properties in those locations require some...changes. Big changes, if I may add. So I would like to propose an offer to buy the property for double its actual value.” He stopped to consider, putting a finger to his chin. "No, wait. Make it triple." 

          Jarl didn't answer for a while, and his expression was in between being offended and amused. Nikolai wondered if the man thought that his offer was a bluff. 

          "I think you're quite mistaken, Consigliere," he said mildly, his tone having an underlying disbelief. "We do not place our properties up for purchase or any sort of deal." 

          The properties you had taken from Families by force, Nikolai wanted to say, but he bit back his tongue. The feel of the lighter in his other hand was enough to ease the sudden flare of anger in his chest. He put on his signature grin to cover it up. "Ah, but I thought your numbers were plummeting for the past two weeks? I think my offer would help the numbers to be friendly and rise up nicely again." 

          "Is that what your father told you to do?" Jarl asked as he leaned back further into his chair. The look on his face had gone from slightly friendly to threatening. "To try and sway me with money?" 

          "Don't we all want to be swayed and pampered by money?" countered Nikolai, the grin never leaving his lips. Jarl’s expression only became darker, and it made Nikolai want to goad him more. "Think of the numbers finally rising, Jarl. I know you want that." 

          "It’s foolish to think that I’d willingly sell properties that we have the ability to look after just quite well, Consigliere.” The Brum Don shook his head with a disappointed expression. “I never thought you would be this desperate.”

          This ticked something inside Nikolai, and he found himself suddenly saying, “Is that why you worked with the Radimovs to overthrow our territories?”

          There was a tense silence, and the expression on Jarl’s face turned from angry to mildly surprised, like he hadn't expected Nikolai to know about the Brums involvement with the assault. They weren't the only Family with spies stationed in different cities; the Lantsovs had just as much informants as the Brums have, if not a bit less.

          Nikolai took the silence as his chance to continue. "Ah, let me make that clear. The Radimovs doing the dirty work and the Brums happening to ‘buy’ the two properties the following day from them. That's pretty much all of it, right? And it's not different from what you did with the Tabans and the Demidovs. And somehow the Morozovas too." He chuckled darkly. "Though it's probably pretty much the Morozovas' payment to your Family for protecting their ass, so I wouldn't really take that into account. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

          Jarl’s jaw was set, as if determined not to admit to the accusation. His eyes were hard, but Nikolai could notice the man's hand suddenly fiddling the pen within his reach in tense movements. He has such an obvious tell. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

          "Oh, I'm merely joking, sir. I mean, I am indeed a genius in certain aspects, but I didn’t learn about that information by connecting the dots. I knew about your tactics from an informant," said Nikolai with a kind smile. "We may have been spiraling a bit out of control since the attempted murder of my father, but we're not as stupid as you think."

          The Brums had used the Lantsovs’ distraction in prioritizing the Don’s security to their advantage, going as far as making frequent appearances in their properties, and even in Os Alta. One of the instances he couldn’t forget were the three Brum soldiers who had caused disturbance in their bar in Kribirsk, and it stirred up the brewing dispute between their Families. 

          Nikolai wouldn't even be surprised if the Brums had something to do with the assassination. And if he were to really think of it now, it was most likely possible. The Demidovs weren't that powerful enough to do something as bold as trying to take down one of the most powerful Dons in the country, unless there was a much bigger hand controlling them. 

          The only Family who had the ability to pull off a stunt like that was the Brums. But knowing them, they always used someone else to do their dirty work for them as they wanted to maintain the 'clean slate' of their name. 

          They could always put out the fire, but they can never cover up the smoke. 

          Jarl considered Nikolai for another moment, and then he let out a loud laugh. “I get why Alexander appointed you as Consigliere and not your older brother. A clever boy, you are,” he said. "Can't be fooled easily." 

          "I'd take that as a compliment, sir," said Nikolai. 

          He reached over to the mug of coffee again, but his hand suddenly felt stiff and rigid as if something was keeping it from being able to move. Then his vision blurred slightly for a moment before it sharpened again, making him blink. 

          It took him a second, and a quiet laugh bubbled from his chest. His suspicions were right, then. He gripped the lighter tightly in his hand like it was the only source of his strength. Coffee was the last thing he had expected to have poison in it, and disbelief muddled his mind. 

          Cheeky bastard, should have put it in brandy or whiskey instead of slandering coffee this way.

          Nikolai held the mug with a bit of effort in his outstretched hand, trying not to let his strain show. But when he looked up back to the Don again, there was no denying that he had already noticed Nikolai’s difficulty in moving, and the beginning of a smirk was evident on Jarl’s expression. The knife hidden under the lapel of Nikolai’s coat suddenly felt heavy.

          This was going to be a pain to get through again. 

          "How's your father, Nikolai?" the man asked. Even his voice sounded faraway now. "Is he recovering well?" 

          "He is. Quite well, I'll say. He might get discharged next week," Nikolai replied before raising the mug to his lips again. It was only when he took another sip of the coffee did he finally recognize the slightest difference in the taste of a purely black coffee. Genya would have scolded him for not recognizing it right away. Cyanide. Cheap. "He sends his regards, by the way." 

          Jarl smiled. "I appreciate it." He paused, his eyebrows furrowing in mock concern. Nikolai wanted to laugh. "Are you alright? You seem to be looking quite unwell."

          Nikolai shrugged, the movement requiring much more effort as he was still adjusting to the toxins in his body. "I'm fine, just a bit stiff. The coffee had a bit of a kick in it."

          "Ah, but you did like your coffee without sugar, right?" 

          "Yeah, makes it more bracing." He gestured to the mug with a nod before placing it back to the desk. A dull tremor shot through him, and he fiddled with the lighter in his hand to keep it from going completely numb. "So, is your answer really a no?" 

          "You make me laugh, Consigliere. Here you are, alone, wanting to have an appointment to meet with me just to offer some nonsense." 

          “I wouldn’t actually call it nonsense I would say ultimatum, but that sounds too threatening so I think I’d tone it down for a bit,” said Nikolai, his tone light. He checked his watch. 17:58. Almost there. But then another tremor shot through him, and this time, he wasn’t able to stop a pained groan from tearing in his throat. He raised a finger. “Wait, give me a second.”

          Nikolai closed his eyes and breathed deeply, flexing his fingers open and close. This was becoming rather embarrassing for him, to give threats to someone of a much higher rank than him while looking he was about to throw up, but he took his time. After a few more moments, he finally regained his composure. When he looked back up to the Don, Jarl had an amused expression on his face as if he were thinking of Nikolai as a big joke. 

          "Consider it a friendly warning," Nikolai said with a grin. “I wouldn’t want to spew threats yet when I still haven’t tried to convince you to change your mind.”

          Jarl’s expression darkened. "This is a three-hectare property. No one would notice the Lantsov Consigliere not coming out of here." 

          "Oh, dear me. Are we doing threats now?" Nikolai laughed, or more like wheezed, and shook his head. "Three hectares, you say? So if I burned down this side of the compound, firefighters won't arrive in time, no? Or even just shooting you, I'm pretty sure no one else would hear." 

          "You're in my compound, Nikolai. My territory." 

          Nikolai shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me before." 

          "There are guards patrolling around right outside the hall. They will immediately barge in the moment I hit the alarm." 

          "Ah, let them. I like that kind of attention. Boosts my ego exponentially." The watch around Nikolai’s wrist beeped softly, and he glanced down at it to confirm that the numbers had already turned to 18:00. "I also did like my coffee without poison, actually. But I appreciate the improvised addition. Cyanide as an alternative to sugar? Genius. Gave a rush of thrill in my blood." 

          If Nikolai could frame the look of the evident shock on Jarl’s face, he would have made a whole exhibit just for it. People needed to see such a rare sighting of the Brum Don getting caught off guard. The man blinked repeatedly, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing in front of him. 

          Trust me, this will get useful at some point, Genya's voice echoed in his head. Nikolai silently thanked their caporegime's insistence for him to develop poison immunity. All those days of handling mild paralysis and unconsciousness was worth it. 

          "Oh, pardon me. Was I being too straightforward with that?" He chuckled lightly. "I can repeat it though. You got me good there, I can already feel it kicking in. But if you wanted to kill me, I think I would prefer a bullet to the brain just to be sure. That's a hundred percent chance I wouldn't walk out of here alive, or just mix in as much cyanide as you have. A sprinkle won’t be enough."

          Jarl let out a laugh of his own, but the sound came out nervous instead of threatening. The man was evidently pale and he was now holding the pen so tightly in his fist he could have snapped it in half. "But that would be messy now, wouldn't it?" he said with a grin. Even his smile looked forced. "As you've told me, we don't do the dirty work.

          "Hmm, fair. But there would be no thrill at all, would it? Having to hide behind your coffers and let others do the labor? That's icky." Nikolai shook his head. There was another tremor that shot throughout his body, but it was much weaker than the ones before it, and he almost smiled. At least that was over. Bless you, Genya. He leaned forward for a bit, his eyes narrowing curiously. "Do tell me, Jarl. How would it feel when someone else takes over your business by force, and brutally kills your men and innocent workers in the process? They’re not a threat, Jarl. Much less an enemy. Why involve them in the mess? We don’t do that. That is against our principles. But I guess that's never in your book, was it? You just do things that would satisfy your greed and thirst for blood."

          “Getting bolder now, aren't we, Consigliere? I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you. Do you think the Lantsovs could handle another loss, especially their Consigliere?” The Brum Don shook his head, a look of disappointment on his face. “Who would try to handle things diplomatically?”

          It was threat after threat. “That is a good question, sir,” said Nikolai. He flexed his fingers on both hands and put them on his knees. “I know Nazyalensky can be diplomatic if need be. But I also know she prefers to use rather drastic measures than talking. ‘It’s the easier way’, she always says. I would have to agree with her at certain times.”

          “Are you implying something?”

          Nikolai plastered a grin on his face. “Only the fact that you’d be facing lesser diplomatic meetings with the Lantsovs if I ever not make it out of here alive,” he said. A soft ping resounded, and he took out his phone from his coat pocket. He checked the alert, his grin turning smug and menacing, the kind that people rarely see the Lantsov Consigliere ever did. “And that you’d probably be dealing with it sooner than you thought.”

          A look of confusion bloomed on the Don’s face, and then, as if on cue, the telephone on the side of his desk blared, the sound startling Jarl and making him jump slightly on his seat. He looked at it with suspicion. Nikolai wanted to laugh, but he figured that it would be rude. Besides, the whole ordeal wasn’t done yet—a lot could still happen, and he was still reeling from the effects of the poison. But he could already see the odds on their side.

          “I would answer that if I were you,” Nikolai said calmly, his fingers finding the lid of his lighter again. He flicked it open and back close. He could still feel the strain in his hand, but at least it he could move it properly again. “It’s probably important.”

          Jarl narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s your deal, Consigliere? Why are you really here?”

          “Just answer the telephone, sir. Maybe it will give you the answer.”

          There was another tense silence. The Brum Don suddenly didn’t look like he was having fun trying to get him cornered. This was the best part for Nikolai, the thrill he always got whenever the upper hand his enemies had against him was suddenly taken away from them and he would watch them crumble slowly and back away until they were the ones cornered instead of him. It was such a satisfying view to watch. 

          And Nikolai were to look at it now, it was exactly how he wanted it. One didn’t just easily get Jarl Brum on the edge of his seat. 

          “Well?” Nikolai mused.

          The frown on Brum Don’s face only deepened, and then reluctantly, he reached for the telephone and slowly raised the receiver near his ear. A few beats, and then, “Yes?”

          Nikolai watched the man’s face pale, his eyes shifting everywhere with the look of evident panic in them. His hand tightened around the receiver until his knuckles were almost white from gripping it too much. There was just so much anger radiating off of him that Nikolai was surprised the Don hadn’t even pointed a gun at him yet. 

          Then Jarl’s attention snapped to him after a moment, his eyes murderous with every intent to kill. Nikolai returned his look with an innocent grin, and the Don’s jaw was set in complete rage. If were some other person, he knew he would have cowered back in fear. But years trying to prove himself he was worthy to be an official member of the Lantsov family despite his bloodline contributed a lot to the name he had built for himself. 

          The Demon Prince of Halmhend—the people had whispered his name in both awe and fear. And with each dark and nasty scar and blood he got on his hands, the stronger his reputation grew. He would get the job done, and he would use whatever method he had to, even if it meant having to have a staredown with death himself.

          It would take much more than some Don’s murderous look to derail Nikolai from his goal. 

          He watched patiently as the Don put back the receiver to the cradle, his dark gaze turning from enraged to cold fury, like he had finally accepted whatever was said to him in the call. Jarl stared down at him for another long moment, and Nikolai could practically see the gears in the man’s head working. 

          “Alright, Consigliere. You made your point.” The Don kept his face expressionless, but his eyes told Nikolai otherwise. “What do you really want?”

          Finally. “Stop the unnecessary attacks and killings,” Nikolai said. “You can’t keep that act up and expect the others not to turn against you.”

          “No one would dare go against us. We both know that.”

          “It’s because we’re still holding back.”

          A shadow passed over Jarl’s face, and his expression darkened even more. “Is that a challenge?”

          “Maybe,” replied Nikolai. He reached up to fix his tie. “If I were to be honest, the Tabans could take you any day. They just don’t choose to. Waste of resources, they say. But really, I understand. It would be too easy for them.”

          “The Tabans don’t choose to fight because they’re cowards,” Jarl said with a huff. “Not because they don’t choose to do so.”

          Nikolai wrinkled his nose. “Tell that to Madam Makhi’s face, and you’ll see your throat by the end of her sword,” he said. He leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “She keeps a very sharp sword in her office, by the way. And she knows how to use it, so I don’t really suggest going against her.”

          Jarl shook his head, the smirk still evident on his lips. “And if I don’t agree to your motion? What can you possibly do with—”

          “You would find my family retaliating,” Nikolai cut him off, and the Don reared back in mild surprise. “The attacks would continue, and I will let it go on. Don’t try fighting in a war where you’re going to lose.” 

          The Don didn’t say anything after that. Nikolai gave him a smile, feeling a bit more confident than before that maybe they had driven Jarl Brum into a corner. Then, to his astonishment, Jarl did something entirely beyond his expectation.

          He laughed.

          And it wasn’t the desperate type but rather a genuinely amused one, like he had just heard the funniest joke that Nikolai could have ever done. Instantly, his grin faded. Jarl Brum was actually laughing. Nikolai could only look back at the Brum Don with utter confusion as uneasiness settled in his gut. The man acted as if he was one step ahead of them, and whatever confidence Nikolai had in himself the moment he stepped inside the man’s office was gone. 

          “The White Island, huh?” Jarl said through his laughs. He shook his head, dramatically reaching up to wipe the nonexistent tears from his eyes. "That hotel is quite a sight, but its location in Ulensk is utter shit. You can burn it down all you want, I wouldn't mind. You didn't have to hide the fact you would raid it just to make a point."

          Dread washed over Nikolai. It felt like this was the real poison taking effect in his system and halted his thoughts completely. How in the saints' name did Jarl know about the raid? Were Tolya and Tamar safe? Which part of the Don's terrified look had been real? 

          He watched the Brum Don stand from his seat and walked to the drawers behind his desk. He bent down to pull a bottle of wine out along with two glasses, humming happily as he went along. It was a baffling sight to see Jarl’s shift in his demeanor, especially from the perspective of a person who knew their way around manipulating their own emotions. 

          Was this how he looked like to other people? Awful and terrifying? 

          "You're a lot silent now, Consigliere," mused Jarl as he poured wine onto the two glasses. He didn't even need to turn around for Nikolai to know that the man was having fun having the upper hand once again. "Did I surprise you?" 

          Nikolai's hand clenched into a fist to keep it from trembling badly with suppressed fury. It wasn't the right time to act yet. He glared at the Brum Don's back, and with slow, silent movements, he carefully reached for the knife under his lapel and slipped it in the edge of his sleeve. The distress and fear clouding his mind may have been overwhelming enough to make him unable to answer, but he wasn't going to let any chances slide. The Brum Don took his silence as a cue to continue. 

          "Ah, don't worry. Your guys leading the raid in White Island Hotel is fine," said Jarl with a light laugh. "I didn't put extra security there tonight on purpose. So your guys are probably done turning the place upside down by now." Then he paused, lifting his head up to stare out the glass window in front of him. "It's actually your people who went to the arms factory I'm worried about." 

          Whatever composure Nikolai had in himself crumbled to nothing. No—

          "You're probably wondering how I knew about it. Well, like you, I have my informants too. And that huge shipment of firepower last week? What other reasons did the Lantsovs have to have that kind of shipment aside from going to war? Doesn't need to take a genius to figure that out." Jarl walked back to his desk and placed the other glass of wine he was holding in front of Nikolai. "And what's the most convenient thing to hit during a war? The arms factory and its warehouse. It's only our luck that you sent Nazyalensky to her own demise. I did put more security in that place." 

          For once, Nikolai didn't have anything to say back. He usually prided himself of being able to make people bow down to his wishes, even if it meant threatening them to the extremes or just simply having a conversation with them. 

          And yet the mere thought of Zoya in danger was enough to spiral him out of his thoughts.

          "I did surprise you now, didn't I?" Jarl chuckled, taking another sip from his glass. "You see, this is what I meant when I said no one dares to go against us. I'm always a step ahead."

          Nikolai gritted his teeth, clenching his hands into fists to keep himself from lunging at the Don. "What did you do to her?" 

          "Do settle down, Consigliere. She's not in danger. Oh, at least not yet. I haven't given them any orders." He paused, frowning as if he had said something wrong. "But that may change in a moment. Unless you do something for me." 

          "What do you want?" 

          Jarl raised an eyebrow. "That was fast, I haven't even blinked," he said. "It's quite a sight to see the great Lantsov Consigliere quickly bow down just because his woman is in danger." 

          "Just say your conditions, Jarl." 

          "You will agree to sign a contract that would legally make the Lantsovs as the Brums' subsidiary." 

          Nikolai looked at the Don with utter disbelief like he had just grown another head on his shoulder. Jarl must have been joking. Maybe Zoya was alright and had already handled the situation at Halmhend. Nikolai's irritation suddenly flared. His thinking was becoming too unstable—which wasn't ideal for his current situation. And if he continued to let Jarl’s words get to him, he would certainly lose this fight. 

          "In fact, it's still quite a generous offer." Jarl tipped his head in respect. "It's for seeing through that coffee I gave you. And even surviving it." 

          "And what if I don't?" Nikolai asked, voice nearly a hiss. 

          Jarl smiled. “Then Nazyalensky dies. Very simple.” 

          “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

          Then as if on cue, Nikolai’s phone rang again, tearing his attention away from wanting to lunge at the Don. He looked at the screen, and it showed a restricted number was trying to make a call. And even though it didn't exactly show who was calling, Nikolai already knew who was on the other line. 

          "I would answer that if I were you," said Jarl, his tone smug as he repeated Nikolai’s line from earlier. With a confident smile that almost ticked off the last Nikolai’s patience, Jarl added, "It's probably important." 

          Nikolai looked down at his phone again, thinking that maybe if he stared hard enough at the bright numbers glaring back at him, the call would stop and prove that the Brum Don was just bluffing. 

          But when it continued to ring, it stabbed fear into his heart. Zoya never called him during an operation, only quick signals and messages. 

          "Well?" Jarl mused. He took a sip from his own glass and raised an eyebrow. "Nazyalensky won't wait all night." 

          The urge to act upon his anger was now stronger than his will to keep on a neutral face, and yet Nikolai still held back. He wouldn't do anything unless he was sure he had every reason to. 

          But the mention of Zoya's name from this despicable man's lips was making it hard to keep himself from killing the Don. 

          "If you lay even one finger on her," Nikolai said, voice low with threat, "I will burn every single place you have until the flames reach you and you will be burning down with them." 

          A shadow passed on Jarl’s face, but it was gone as soon as Nikolai could blink, and there was the sneer on his face again. "Just answer the call, Consigliere." 

          Nikolai did what he was told and he swiped the icon to the right. He slowly put the phone to his ear, his gaze never wavering from Jarl. 

          The other line was quiet, except for the occasional strained breathing in the background. He fought the urge to call out for her name—it wasn't the time to give the Brum Don more leverage against him. So he waited. 

          Zoya, he pleaded in his mind. Please be alright. 

          It was a desperate thought, one he hoped that would be true, because he would have to settle for the last resort and the Don wouldn't see another sunrise after tonight. 

          There was another silence, more ragged breathing. Nikolai's vision was starting to tunnel as he fought for composure, and Don's smirk was only adding fuel to the fire in him that was waiting to be ignited. 

          A beat, and there was a pained voice that said, "Nikolai—" 

          Something in Nikolai snapped, and he was suddenly flicking the knife out from his sleeve and then hauled it at Jarl Brum. 

          It hit the man on his shoulder hard enough for his chair to tip back, and he fell over with a shout. Nikolai shot up from his own chair and slid over the Don's desk, landing on the ground next to the man and kicking the man's arm even before he could reach for the alarm button under the edge of the table. He kept Jarl's arm pinned to the floor with his foot, and when the Don tried to reach for Nikolai's ankle with his other free arm, he pressed his foot harder against the man's arm he was sure he heard a soft crack.

          Dizziness hit nim like a tidal wave that almost threw him off balance. His vision swayed. Waiting for his body to adapt to the toxins would still take a bit of time, but he was being driven by his rage that he almost forgot he wasn’t here to kill the Don.

          "Did I catch you off guard?" Jarl asked with a strained laugh. "She really is your soft spot, eh? If I had known earlier I would have—" 

          Nikolai didn’t let him finish and brought his foot down with force, completely breaking the man's wrist. Jarl opened his mouth to let out a scream of pain, but Nikolai's other foot had already hit the Don across face before he could make a sound. Blood dripped from the side of the man's lips, and he spit it out to the side. 

          “I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you,” Nikolai said. With casual ease, he nudged the handle of the knife with his toe, and it earned another shout from the man. A smirk twitched on his lips at the sound of the Don's agony. There was always something satisfying in hearing your enemies scream in pain. "Not looking so tough now, aren't you, sir? But do scream all you want. Your office is soundproof, isn’t it?" 

          Despite himself, Jarl still hadn't cowered back in fear. If possible, he only became much angrier than when Nikolai was goading him before. "The Families would know about this assault," he said through gritted teeth. "You're making a big mistake by attacking the Brum Don." 

          "Am I now?" Nikolai leaned closer, resting his elbow on his bent knee. He reached out his other hand and patted Jarl on the cheek. The man flinched under his touch. "And 'Brum Don'? All I see is a dead man."

          Jarl’s eyes widened in fear. "You won't kill me." 

          Nikolai huffed lightly. "That's what our enemies in Halmhend used to say." He shrugged, and then reached for the Don’s uninjured arm. "Look where it got them." 

          With a hard tug on the man’s wrist, Nikolai kicked the desk until it was farther away from Jarl’s reach. He wasn’t taking any chances of the Don trying to sneak and alarm his men to his office. At least not just yet. They had the time for games later. Nikolai dragged Jarl to the wine drawer, throwing him off to the small wooden doors with a resounding thump. 

          Jarl groaned in pain, and yet it still sounded restrained as if he were keeping himself from making another shout. He was cradling his broken wrist on his lap, shoulder hunched forward enough for him to not show his face. 

          Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Don't be shy now, I know you want to shout," he said as he grabbed the Don's fallen chair, standing it upright again and pulling it in front of Jarl before sitting down. He pulled out the lighter from his pocket. "I don't like it when they don't scream in pain."

          There was no answer for a long moment, with the Don still in his hunched position. Nikolai eyed him sideways. The man's shoulders were shaking with every breath he drew, and the spot where the knife was lodged continued to leak of blood. 

          It was new to him to see Jarl Brum in such a vulnerable state. But he was still trying to put up the tough persona a Don should have, and Nikolai was determined to break him slowly. Inflicting immense pain was one of the strengths Nikolai learned in the streets that gave birth to his name.

          “Still good, sir?” he asked in mock wonder. “You’re not as strong as I thought.”

          The man shot up from his place on the floor, his other arm stretched out as if to reach for Nikolai’s neck, but the Consigliere had already anticipated it. He simply leaned back and grabbed the man by both of his arms. His movements stopped. 

          Nikolai gave him a sneer. "Courageous," he said with genuine respect. "But still slow."

          He kicked the man on the chest, sending him crashing back to the drawers in a heap. Then Nikolai brought his foot down to Jarl’s ankle this time. There was another resounding crack, followed by a howl of pain. He almost smiled. 

          "Now that's the shout," Nikolai said. He stared down at the Don with pity. Jarl looked incredibly smaller for the Brum Don that terrorized everyone else. It was amusing to see how pain made anyone kneel to its extremities. "I thought your pride would still forbid you to scream. Make it louder for me, yeah? It sounds better." 

          "What do you want, Lantsov?" Jarl spat as if the name were some poison that stung his mouth. “Or should I say Opjer?”

          Nikolai’s jaw ticked in annoyance. He knows too much. "Not 'Consigliere' anymore? I feel sad about that, sir." He bent down and reached for the man's arm, bringing his hand close to him. He opened the lid of his lighter and put one of the Don's fingers in between the edge of the lid and the case. "I'll be brief, which I rarely do as I prefer talking more." He paused. "Call off your men."

          Jarl let out a laugh. "Too late for that, Nikolai. But I can almost assume that they're already leaving now that the threat was handled in the—" 

          Nikolai forced the lid of his lighter close, and the Don screamed in pain. The tip of his finger was set in an odd angle, with blood leaking from the damaged nail. It dripped onto Nikolai’s hand and his wrist, and then to the cuff of his sleeve. He inwardly winced in displeasure. It could be taken care of later. 

          He kept his expression impassive and moved to another finger. "Call off your men," he repeated. 

          Jarl’s face was twisted in cold rage, but there was no denying the agony he was under that he was still trying to put up with. When he didn’t answer, Nikolai closed the lighter onto the man’s next finger. Another howl of agony. He moved to another finger. 

          “Eight remaining fingers, eight remaining chances,” he said. “I will say it again. Call off your men, Jarl. I’m still being generous with giving you chances.”

          The man only smirked, and just as Nikolai was about to break off another finger, a loud thump resounded somewhere behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The doors to Jarl’s office were rattling, almost threatening to come off its hinges. The Don's men had a good way of knocking.

          "As I've said," Jarl wheezed, making Nikolai turn back to him, "too late to do that." 

          Nikolai tsked. "Very well," he said, and then clamped the lid to the man's third finger. He let go of his arm, and Jarl crumpled down to the ground. "A reward for being able to sneak past me." 

          His men were still trying to barge the doors down, but they were almost succeeding in doing so when Nikolai caught a glimpse of the light outside the hall through the small space by the door that was beginning to grow wider. He turned back to the Don. 

          "Let's make you a bit more presentable, shall we?" said Nikolai. 

          He grabbed the man by the collar and forced him to stand before dragging him to the chair. Jarl wheezed in pain as he tried to fight back, but both of his hands were so badly damaged he couldn't make use of them. The Don could only give Nikolai as much as a glare. 

          He forced the man back down to the chair. "No need to look so angry, sir." 

          "You won't get out of here alive, Lantsov," growled Jarl. "You are totally outnumbered. My men would—" 

          "Ah" —Nikolai patted the man on the cheek— "let's not get ahead of our predictions. Let me borrow this for a second." He swiftly pulled out the knife from Jarl’s shoulder. "I'll be right back." 

          "You and Nazyalensky are goners, Consigliere. Both of you are not going to make it through the night." 

          "We'll see about that." 

          Nikolai eyed the still rattling doors, and glanced at the bloodied knife in his hand. He would be at a total disadvantage, he knew, but it was better than having nothing. Besides, he'd had far much worse situations that he got out of, some that involved using bare hands and teeth just to survive. 

          Tonight wasn't any different either. 

          He approached the doors just as there was finally the sound of a wood splintering, and he pressed himself against the wall beside the entryway. With a twist of his knife in his hand, he reached up to remove the tie around his neck with his other, letting the ends fall loose onto his shirt. It would only be a hindrance to his movements. 

          The doors barged open and men in gray overcoats came rushing in. Nikolai tightened his grip around the knife and counted heads. Seven. Jarl should have invited more.

          The man nearest to him hadn't noticed him yet, and he took his chance. 

          Nikolai stepped forward and pushed his knife behind the man's throat. 

          One. 

          He immediately pulled the knife out, letting it fly towards the other Soldier to his right. Blood spurted from the man's neck. He crumpled to the ground with a gurgling sound. 

          A sneer twitched on his lips. 

          Two. 

          He started humming. The remaining men finally turned to him with their guns raised, but Nikolai was already on the move. He collided with the third one. His hand closed around the gun barrel and the other to the man's hand, pointing the gun to the other Soldiers. 

          Nikolai pulled the trigger. It hit the other Soldier on the head. 

          Three. 

          He turned a bit to the left and fired twice on the fourth Soldier's chest. 

          Four. 

          Nikolai twisted, using the third Soldier as a shield just as the shots erupted. The body convulsed as it took the barrage of bullets. Then the shots stopped, and he pressed the barrel under the man's chin before pulling the trigger. 

          Five. 

          He grabbed the gun, aimed over the dead man's shoulder, and fired at the other Soldier. He immediately crumpled on the ground after the bullet went straight through his skull. 

          Six. 

          With a push, Nikolai finally let the body fall to the ground. He turned to find the last Soldier, but he wasn't fast enough.

          A shot rang out, and pain burst on his ear. He stopped humming and blinked. The remaining Soldier looked at him with a terrified expression, his hand trembling so badly as if he was out enduring the cold winter night. Then he dropped the gun completely and he fell to the ground. 

          Nikolai approached him slowly, like a predator cornering his prey. The Soldier started to back away. But the tremors quaking his body were too much that he couldn't even move fast enough. 

          A moment later, Nikolai was hovering above him, with the barrel of the gun pointed at his face, and he immediately raised a hand to protect himself. 

          "No—" 

          But Nikolai already pulled the trigger before the Soldier could even plead, and he crumpled to the ground on the pool of blood from the hole in his head. 

          Seven. 

          The room went silent again. Nikolai reached a hand up to his ear, feeling the sticky wetness around it along with the sting of pain. When he looked at his hand, his fingers were drenched in blood. He huffed. At least they were able to nick him. 

          He turned back to Jarl, who was still sitting idly on his office chair, the expression on his face was a mix of horror and bewilderment.

          "There'd be more of them in a few moments, right?" Nikolai asked mildly as he went and got his knife from the Soldier's neck. He wiped it at the edge of the Soldier's gray coat, staining it red. Then he put it back behind the lapel of his coat. “How many are there left?”

          At the Don’s silence, he scoffed. He walked back to Jarl by the desk, grabbing the man by his collar and forcing him up to his remaining good foot. It’d have to do. An audience was still an audience no matter how few they were, and he wanted Jarl to see every drop of blood shed by his men for everything they had done, and for every life they had ruined. 

          For hurting Zoya.

          Because in the end, he would rather let himself be the one to end all this rather than branding himself as a traitor for selling his own Family out and risking any chances of putting Zoya's life on the line even more. He could only hope Tamar would be able to reach her on time. 

          There was no turning back from this. 

          This tyranny had to end tonight, as it would only continue until the point of time where no one could stop them. 

          It was time to be the monster that he had been once more. 

          Nikolai dragged Jarl outside the doors of the office. “Let the hunting party start, then.”

---

Zoya struggled against the restraints bounding her hands behind her. But then pain shot up to her side from where a bullet had grazed her during the shootout earlier. She grit her teeth, glaring at the man in front of her. She would definitely break his neck the moment she got free. 

          The storage room where they had been holding her was guarded with three other men in gray overcoats. They looked stiff and alert, their guns poised readily to aim at her the moment she tried to do something funny. Zoya wanted to laugh. She understood the hostility around her, especially when there's only several of them left in the warehouse. 

          It was supposed to be much lesser than Zoya had expected—the arms warehouse should have been empty except for a few guards on patrol and a Brum Soldier staying in the upstairs office. 

          But instead of that, Zoya had walked straight up into a trap instead, with the number of Jarl’s men tripling and they were being led by Ivor Kravchenko, the notorious Brum caporegime known for his brutal tendencies when it came to taking down his enemies. 

          She had come to think that there might have been a leak of their own plans to orchestrate the simultaneous attacks against the Brums. They had been able to reduce a great number from Jarl’s men, but it cost all the lives of Zoya's men that were with her during the attack. Their blood would forever be on her hands. 

          The other thing she could hope for now was that Nikolai and the twins were alright on their sides of this predicament. 

          “You shouldn’t have left your Don’s compound,” she said. It was taking a lot of her remaining strength to speak. "You all left your boss' to the wolf's mercy." 

          The man, whom Zoya remembered as Ivor and Jarl's notorious caporegime, gave a dark laugh. "A wolf, you say? It doesn't matter, a lone wolf is no match for a whole pack," said the caporegime. "Your Consigliere might even be dead by now. Just like the rest of your men here. Don't get too cheeky now." 

          Zoya's rage flared, the urge to make the man suffer stronger than before. "You seem to be forgetting that I killed half of your men alone," she said. "You better make sure I don't get out of these bounds because it will be your blood spilled on the ground next." 

          This seemed to annoy Ivor, making him step forward in haste with a murderous expression on his face. But then he stopped abruptly as if he had just remembered something, and he straightened back up. "I could kill you right now and be done with it, Nazyalensky," he said in a low voice. "But I still just choose not to. It's fun to see the great Lantsov Underboss tied down at the Brums mercy." 

          "Chose not to, or you're still waiting for your Don to give the order like a good puppy you are?" Zoya said back, savoring the look of new rage on the caporegime's face. She gave him a sharp smile. "It's been an hour since you called my Consigliere and tried to rattle him down. You haven't even heard from Jarl ever since then." 

          Ivor snarled, and then he was grabbing at Zoya's hair and pulling her head back, his knife suddenly pressed to her cheek. Zoya smirked triumphantly. It was so easy to derail him—the whole Brum Family if possible. They were all bombs that were ready to detonate at any time. 

          This would be fun when she finally had him under her mercy later. But having to reach that point seemed very difficult and almost next to impossible, especially when there were ropes bounding her hands. 

          An realization dawned in her head when her eyes trailed down the knife near her face. She just had to make the man drop it somehow. 

          "Do not test me, Nazyalensky," Ivor growled as he pressed the knife harder to her skin. Zoya felt a trickle of blood run down her face. He traced the blood with the knife point lightly before hovering it to her skin again. "I can be merciless at certain times." 

          As can I, Ivor. "Suits you, then," said Zoya simply. "I have the freedom to choose when to be merciless. Unlike you, who still has to wait for a go signal from his person before he can bite."

          With a growl, Ivor tugged at her hair harder. "Did you know what Jarl told me before I left to go handle the mess you will try to stage here?" he hissed. "He said that the Lantsov Consigliere and Underboss are the ones keeping their Family upright. If they were the ones to go first, they would all crumble, and he planned to do just that." Ivor smiled wickedly, the kind that spoke of a triumph gotten from a dirty play. "Starting with your Consigliere. I wonder how things would be if the Don suddenly decides to get rid of him."

          She clenched her fists behind her, her fury burning cold in her blood. Nikolai was a lot smarter than the others give him credit for. There was never a dire situation that he hadn't gone through before—he could always find a way out of anything.

          But their current standpoint only struck fear and doubt to Zoya. He was in their enemy's nest, the place where they had the absolute authority on everything. She had been reluctant for him to go alone, and yet he had insisted, saying that he had a plan just in case something went wrong. 

          And now that there had been a hole in their planned attack, Zoya could only hope that his plan didn't involve him risking his life more than he already did. 

          She would come and drag him out of hell if needed to. 

          "I'm pretty sure your Consigliere would run out of ideas at some point," added Ivor thoughtfully. "Tonight might be the time."

          You can all dream. 

          Zoya gave a short laugh, and then she tipped her head back and struck Ivor's nose with her forehead. 

          The man shouted as he pushed back from her, dropping his knife and putting a hand up to his face. She quickly took the advantage and tipped the chair down sideways. Pain shot up to her side when she hit the floor, and her vision blacked out for a few moments. The blow to her head earlier only added to the dizziness that made her vision spin. But she shook the ache away and her hands felt around for the knife from the floor as the three men were still occupied with coddling their boss. 

          When she finally grasped the knife handle, she immediately tucked it to the insides of her sleeve before looking back up to Ivor. 

          Blood seeped through his fingers that were tightly holding his now broken nose, and his face was scrunched up in pain. Zoya felt a laugh bubble from her chest. 

          "Can't even take a hit, eh?" she called to Ivor, who only glared at her with a murderous glint in his eyes. "Come and train with our men, you'll learn how to brush off a punch to your jaw like it's merely dust." 

          Ivor let out an angry growl and started to walk his way to her again, but one of his Soldiers stopped him. 

          "There aren't any orders for us to kill her yet, sir," the Soldier said with finality. He looked a bit younger than the other men, but he  had a sway on them that even Ivor stopped to consider his actions. "We should be patient." 

          Zoya huffed silently. Another well-trained pup, then. 

          The door to the room suddenly opened, and another one of Jarl’s men appeared by the threshold. "Sir," he said, gesturing outside, "it's urgent." 

          Ivor sighed in frustration. He gave Zoya another pointed look before turning to one of his men again. "Get her up and keep a close eye on her," he said stiffly, still holding a hand to his nose. "I might finally be allowed to kill her after." 

          With one last low gaze to Zoya, he stomped off the storage room. She huffed in amusement as she watched the Caporegime's retreating form disappear by the doorway. 

          "Petty ass," she muttered. But when Ivor's footsteps finally receded, she slid out the knife from her sleeve and started to cut through the ropes.

          It was the younger Soldier that moved to lift her chair upright, his movements brusque and rough it made the pain on Zoya's side shoot up again.  

          "Easy with the moving, will you?" she hissed at the Soldier. 

          He sneered at her, pushing the chair roughly back down to its feet instead. "Witch," he hissed back, and Zoya had to laugh. The Soldier pointed the gun under her chin. "The only thing keeping me from firing is that the Don didn't want you dead just yet, and we're just waiting for the go signal." He pressed the barrel to her chin harder for emphasis. "Don't get too smug." 

          Men and their egos. "Sure thing, hon," said Zoya mildly with a shrug. 

          It seemed to be enough for the Soldier as he put down the gun and started to back off. But then ropes finally cut loose, and a smirk twitched at her lips. She kept her arms behind her and flipped the knife in her hand so that it pointed forward. 

          "Lapdog," she muttered, making sure the Soldier heard her. 

          And he did, because he suddenly stopped walking and turned to her again, a look of rage evident on his face. His jaw was set when he reached her again in a few quick strides. 

          He bent down and grabbed at her face. "What did you say, you—" 

          His next words came out in a gurgling mess when Zoya's hand shot up and pushed the knife into the man's throat. 

          She reached for the man's gun with her other hand just as the two other men noticed what was happening. She aimed and fired at the two of them before they could even raise their guns to shoot, and they crumpled to the ground with a thud. 

          The Soldier clawed at his neck desperately, his movements panicked. Zoya looked at him pitifully before yanking the knife out. The man fell to the ground. 

          She wiped her bloodied hand and knife to the squirming man's coat for a moment, staining the fabric blood red. His other hand still tried to reach for her ankle, but Zoya merely stepped away. 

          Then she pointed the gun to the Soldier's face. "For gunning down my men," she said before shooting him in the head. 

          He slumped to the ground, lifeless. Zoya winced at the sudden sting that pierced her side, and she almost doubled over. She checked her wound. The long line of the bullet graze was still oozing with blood, but much lesser than before. She would have to put up with it for now; she needed to have a talk with Ivor first. 

          Rushed footsteps echoed outside just as she neared the door. She immediately pressed herself against the wall beside the doorway and waited. A few moments later, the door barged open, and Ivor and another man came rushing in. 

          They hadn't noticed her yet, and Zoya sprang. 

          She raised her gun and shot the Soldier in the head. Ivor turned just as she aimed the gun to his thigh and pulled the trigger. He reared back with a shout, and Zoya swiped the gun up and whacked him across the face with the stock. Ivor crashed to the floor. 

          But when she finally got a closer look at the man's face, she realized it wasn't Ivor at all. The Soldier was only wearing the Caporegime's coat. 

          Zoya gritted her teeth as she pointed her gun to the man. "Where's Ivor?" she hissed. 

          He didn’t answer, and it made her anger flare even more. She put her finger closer to the trigger. 

          "Where—" 

          A crack of gunshot, and then a flash of excruciating pain on her other side just below her ribs. Zoya backed a few steps, dropping her gun and putting a hand to her side. When she checked on it after a moment, her palm was already covered in red. 

          "Miss me?" Ivor called out from the door. 

          Zoya didn’t have the strength to turn completely, and she crashed to the floor. The surroundings blurred into a mess of colors, the sudden flash of lights adding to the swaying of her vision. She put a hand to her wound, and she stifled a groan when another wave pain shot up to her body. 

          Ivor's figure appeared in her line of vision, his steps slow and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world. Zoya could only do as much as glare at the Caporegime, at the broken nose that had the faint traces of dried blood around it, and hoped for the Saints to give her enough strength to kill the guy right then. But her wishes were ignored and the pain only became worse. 

          "You think you could get out of my watch that easily?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I thought you were better than this."

          "Come closer and I'll show you," Zoya snarled. 

          "A real tough one, aren't you? Even as you lay dying, you can still make someone cower in fear." Ivor laughed loudly, and it was like the sound of a chair being scraped off a tiled floor. "I had to admit I was impressed on how you got that knife. That was neat."

          Zoya blinked. He had known? 

          As if he had heard her thoughts, Ivor chuckled darkly. "Oh, I did notice. That's why I staged a little dress up with one of my Soldiers here after the phone call. Always did the trick." 

          "Staged?" Zoya laughed, but it came out as a wheeze instead. "Did you really just use your men as bait just to kill me dramatically?" 

          "Ten points for Nazyalensky!" Ivor announced before raising his gun and pointing it at the Soldier he had made to wear his coat. "We're busted, unfortunately. Thank you for your service." Then he pulled the trigger. 

          Zoya winced at the sound of the dead body falling to the ground. She shook her head. "You're mad, Kravchenko." 

          "That, I am. But you know who's worse?" He bent down a little as if to tell some secret. Then he pointed two fingers at her. "You two." He paused to laugh again, and then he started pacing back and forth. 

          She took the small distraction to pull the handgun closer to her and hide it under her back. And when he stopped and stared back down at her, she noticed something strange. There was a wild look in his eyes, the deranged kind of glint of a paranoid man. 

          Ivor waved his gun carelessly in the air. "Oh, don't worry I finally have the order to kill you." 

          Zoya turned to her bad side slightly, bearing the pain that washed over her again and reaching for the gun she had hidden behind her. 

          "Worry not, Nazyalensky. You're going to meet your Consigliere soon," said Ivor. "The Don never planned to let your Consigliere get out of there alive, you know. The chance was too good to let it pass. He was a dead man the moment the Don accepted the meeting." 

          She knew Ivor was trying to get to her head, and she knew better that she shouldn't let it, but it was proving to be difficult when it was Nikolai’s safety being used against her. It was then she remembered this was what Ivor was known for—tormenting his enemies rights before he killed them. But Zoya knew to herself that she would have preferred physical torment than this. She wouldn't even have the chance to know if Nikolai was safe from any danger. 

          A bittersweet laugh bubbled from her chest. Even in near death circumstances, Nikolai was still her headache. She could only hope he would be able to get through tonight.

          Zoya gripped the gun tightly. She wouldn't this man torment her until her last breath. Not without bringing him down with me. 

          Ivor was seething when he was checking his gun chamber. Something was definitely wrong with him. Had something come up after that phone call? 

          "This is a payback to your Consigliere for acting stupidly. And for what he's done," he said and he shook his head, fury and annoyance evident on his face. "He's so going to pay for that. I can't wait to kill him myself—" He stopped abruptly and turned back to Zoya. "You'll meet him soon, Nazyalensky. Don't worry, I'll make it—" 

          With what's left of her strength, Zoya lifted her arm and fired at the Caporegime, emptying the whole gun's whole clip at him. Ivor convulsed with every bullet he took, his eyes wide in shock as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. 

          When the gun only gave a click, Zoya let her arm fall. A triumphant smirk twitched at her lips as she watched Ivor's bewildered expression. His hand fell limp at his side, and he looked down at the holes on his chest. 

          A scoff tore from his throat, and along with it came blood that leaked from his lips. His expression turned from shocked to angry in a blink. With a shaking hand, he pointed his gun back at her. "You witch—" 

          There was a crack of gunshot. Zoya closed her eyes and waited for the momentary pain before the end. 

          But it didn't come. 

          There was a loud thud, like the sound of a body falling to the floor, and she opened her eyes again. 

          Ivor lay on the floor, lifeless, his wide, empty eyes still open. Blood started to pool around his body all too quickly.

          "Zoya," a familiar voice said. 

          Through her blurry vision, Zoya could make out a figure of a woman approaching her in rush. Tamar. 

          She immediately held out her hand, and felt Tamar take it right away. The woman's other hand came to put pressure on her wound. "You're okay," Zoya said. Her breaths were starting to come out in short bursts. "Is Tolya—" 

          "He's fine, General, you should think of yourself first. Save your breath. You'll be fine." Tamar let go of her hand to pull out her phone. She dialled a number and started speaking to someone, but the words faded into echoes of distorted sounds. 

          A moment later Zoya heard Tamar's voice again. "Stay with me, Nazyalensky." She clasped at her hand, gripping it tightly as if it would give Zoya enough life again if she held on tighter. 

          Nikolai, Zoya wanted to ask her. Is he safe? 

          But the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming for her to stay awake, and she found her grip on Tamar's hand loosening with every ragged breath she drew. 

        Have I done enough? 

        She didn't know. 

        Be safe, idiot. 

        She took another breath. 

        Then everything went dark. 

***

Zoya opened her eyes. 

        Immediately, a dull throb washed over her body that almost made her pass out again, but the gentle touches she felt on her hand kept her anchored down to consciousness. She drew in a shaky breath. 

        She was still alive. She has survived the ordeal. Tamar and Tolya were safe too and—

        Nikolai. 

        Where was he? Was he alive? 

        Zoya turned to her right in haste, but she stopped when she spotted a mess of blond hair on her bedside. The grip on her hand tightened, and she felt her eyes sting. 

        He's okay. 

        "Hey," she said, voice still rough from sleep. 

        Nikolai instantly bolted upright. He looked like a mess, with his hair ruffled and the bruises and cuts on his face. There were traces of dried blood on the side of face down to his collar, his coat, and even on the edge of his sleeves. His hands were no different; the skin around his knuckles were torn open and red. But the worse one he got was his left ear—or what was left of it. He was tired and in pain, and yet he only had the look of utter relief and warmth in his eyes when he looked at her and smiled.

        There was an unexpected prick in her heart. Zoya wanted to reach out and hold him to her, to tell him that she was glad he was alive, but she couldn’t do anything of those as her body still felt heavy like lead due to the exhaustion and medication. 

        A tear fell down from his eye, and Nikolai quickly wiped it away with a tired laugh. Then he shifted closer, his hand reaching out to smooth the hair away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned against his touch almost immediately. 

        “You’re a mess, dear,” he said, his tone light with amusement. 

        Zoya huffed weakly. “You should see yourself.” She nodded at his state of dress. "It's not you to have your suit ruined like that." 

        “There’s always a first one, you know.” Nikolai gave her a wink. “Just not the thing I prefered. I can always throw it in the laundry, though.”

        “You, doing the laundry? I know you’ll break the washing machine first before you can get anything done,” she said, and Nikolai laughed lightly. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she laced their fingers together. What she expected to be a gentle touch was a trembling grip instead. His hand was badly shaking. Concern washed over her as she looked at him in worry. “Nikolai?”

        “I’m fine. I just—” Nikolai stopped. He laughed again, but it sounded more like a sob of relief instead. He shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. He still looked like he was about to break any moment, but it was gone in a blink and he put on his signature grin that brightened up his features. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry that much now, yeah?”

        Tears stung Zoya’s eyes again, and she smiled ruefully. I almost lost you too. But she covered it up with a smirk.  “They can’t get rid of me that easily.”

        "I know." 

        Silence fell around them. It was unusual for her to have a quiet as she was used to hearing all types of noises, whether it be the angry and rising tones during meetings or the gunfire that followed after when the negotiations went wrong. Even at nights, which was supposed to be when everything was in peace, were still haunted by the voices of the people who had died under her jurisdiction, and their blood was on her hands. 

        Having this moment struck dread to her, because good things, even the smallest ones, always came with a price. And she wasn't entirely sure if she was willing to give up anything. 

        "Do tell me your thoughts, dearest Zoya," Nikolai said, breaking the silence. He smiled as he continued his ministrations on her hair. "When you're quiet like that, I'm worried that you might be planning someone's death." 

        Zoya huffed. "How can you be sure that it wasn't your death I was planning?"

        Nikolai chuckled. "Please, you can't plan something that's already done," he said in amusement, and then his face fell after a second as if he realized what he just said. He smiled but it was half-hearted than his usual ones. "I like being one step ahead, you know." 

        "What happened, Nikolai?" she asked softly, not wanting to risk him shying away. Her hand tightened its hold on his. "What did you do?" 

        "I did what I had to do," he said simply. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he stared down at their joined hands. He rubbed circles around her skin, his touch feather light. "There was no other way."

        "Did you—" Zoya stopped. She didn't want to say it. She wanted to believe that if she didn't, it could change the truth. But the defeated look in his eyes only solidified the truth. 

        “Jarl Brum is dead," Nikolai said. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he looked back up at her. “He died when his compound had caught on fire due to faulty gas pipes. And the Lantsov Consigliere died with him in the fire. It’s what the people would hear by morning.” He paused, and breathed in deep. Then he smiled his usual grin again. “He put up quite a fight, though. It ruined my suit doing it. What a sad mess.”

        Zoya could only stare at him in melancholy. She didn’t even have the heart to answer his joke back. That was their last resort. They both agreed that if things had turned out the worst, he would have to settle with killing the Don. But that was before, when they thought that their plans were foolproof.

        I should have known and done better.

        Nikolai must have seen the look on her face, because he shook his head gently and his grin turned into a rueful one. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do that to yourself. I don't regret doing anything,” he said. He took her hand in both of his. “He was going to force me to hand over the Lantsovs to them, saying he’ll have you killed if I don’t. It was a deadend. There was no guarantee they won’t hurt you even if I agree. And I was never going to sell us over, anyway.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'd rather get hurt a thousand times more than lose you." 

        A tear finally fell from the side of her eye. If this was the price she had to pay for having this moment with him, she did not want it. She would give up anything else to pay the price. Just not this. Not him. 

        “So, I guess this is our last night together,” Zoya said, her voice breaking slightly. 

        His hand reached up to her face and wiped the tear with his thumb. There were also tears clouding his eyes. He nodded gently, the sad smile still on his lips. Zoya leaned in his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I promise to annoy you to death so you would have enough spite for me to last in a long while.”

        Zoya huffed in amusement. She had never hated him so much than she did now. How could he make it sound so easy when he was going to leave? “I already have enough spite to last for the rest of my life.”

        Nikolai laughed back. “That’s good to hear.” 

        Another short silence filled the air, and Zoya looked him over. If it was the last time she would see him, she wanted to bask in the warmth radiating in his eyes and remember all the quirks he had, as if she hadn’t memorized everything about him before. 

        She lifted her hand slightly, and Nikolai went to hold it back in his. He turned his attention to her forearm, tracing the dark lines of the tattooed dragon on her skin. It felt like he was doing the same, memorizing a distinct feature of her that he would carry with him.

        “I’ve always thought this one’s cooler than my wolf one,” he said softly, running his fingers on her skin. “You always get cooler ones than me.”

        “Where would you go?” Zoya asked instead.

        Nikolai stopped his ministrations, his fingers coming back to lace with hers. “It would be better if no one knew,” he replied solemnly. “Besides, I wouldn’t stay in one place for long.” 

        Zoya took a deep breath. This was their reality, and she should know better than lament over it. She wasn’t the type to let emotions take over her. But for Nikolai Lantsov, she would always be willing to make an exception.

        “Maybe I can mail something from time to time,” he said. “Postcards and pictures, how do you feel about that?”

        “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

        Her Consigliere chuckled lightly. “No, I am entirely serious.” He shrugged. “Mail is the safest thing to get something across without the risk of being traced.”

        Zoya shook her head with a light laugh. I’d take anything. “Whatever you say, corn salad,” she said, and Nikolai laughed. A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over through her. The medicine must be taking its effects now. No, not yet. A few more minutes. “When do you leave?” 

        A beat, and then Nikolai said, “Soon.” An amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You don’t have to be so excited.”

        “Idiot,” she mumbled. There was a twinge in her chest with the nickname she had of him, knowing that it would be the last time she could tell it to him in person. 

        Nikolai tightened his hold on her hand, and she felt it trembling again. His eyes were bright with tears when he said, “I’ll miss that nickname.” I’ll miss you, was what never said aloud, but Zoya heard it all the same.  

        I’ll miss you too. Zoya gave him a small smile. “Just look at the engraving in your lighter, it will remind you.” Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she found her eyes drooping slightly. 

        Zoya heard him laugh softly, making her blink to shake the drowsiness away. Nikolai reached up to brush at the hair on her forehead again. 

        “Go get some more rest,” he said. His hand came down to her cheek, and he gently caressed her skin with his thumb. “Don’t fight it, I know you’re still tired.”

        "I'm not tired," she grumbled back. 

        "Whatever you say, dear."

        Her eyes were starting to feel too heavy for her to stay awake, but she still fought the drowsiness from taking over so she could still see him for a little more time. 

        "Go rest," he said again. 

        Zoya squeezed his hand. She was never the first one to ask. To their world, everything was a trade—you give and take. A request meant a desperate wish, and you should always be willing to pay the price. 

        But she had already paid for it, and it was only fair if she wished for one final request. Be it a selfish, impossible kind. 

        "Stay?" she asked. Even just for a moment longer. "You've always made a good bodyguard." 

        Nikolai smiled softly. I can't, was what his eyes said, and yet, aloud, he still said, "Of course." He tucked the blankets higher to her shoulders, his movements gentle and careful. "Now go back to sleep. I'll be here."

        They both knew it was a lie. 

        Zoya closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't bear seeing him leave, and she'd rather have him do it while she was asleep. 

        Then he started humming. His shitty, off-tune humming. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with silent sobs, her eyebrows drawn tight together to keep her tears from falling. But they still did, anyway. 

        She felt him press his lips to her knuckles, and small droplets fall against her skin. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that it was his tears. 

        "Good night, Nikolai," Zoya whispered in a shaky tone. Farewell. Be safe. 

        A short, heavy silence, and she heard him draw a ragged breath. "Good night, Zoya." Goodbye, Zoya. 

        His voice and the feel of his hand tight in hers were the last things she knew before sleep took over her. 

        And when Zoya finally slept, she dreamed that she would never have to let him go. 

***

News about the death of the Brum Don because of the fire that caught his compound was heard early on the next morning. Television news, radio, newspapers, and even the social media boomed with the word, and it spread like wildfire. 

        It went even bigger when the Lantsov Consigliere was also reported to have died along the fire, with all the current evidence proving that the fire had been intentional. But none of them pointed to Nikolai. The investigation was still open, and it will probably go on for quite a while. The only thing that lightened the burden on Zoya’s chest was knowing that he was alive. He had known how things would go beforehand, and made sure that none of them ended up implicating the Lantsovs.

        Always the well-prepared one.

        The chair where Nikolai had sat last night was empty, as if he wasn’t there at all. The only traces left of him was the lingering scent of his perfume and the dip on her bedside where he had laid his arms on as he watched her with all the warmth in his eyes, the same warmth he took with him when he left.

        Zoya felt her eyes sting with unwanted tears again as she looked out the window, but this time she didn’t try to keep them from falling. She smiled ruefully, a bittersweet feeling left in her heart. It was probably bad fate that had them cross paths, and it was also what separated them. But either way, it was still what had brought them together. She was thankful for that somehow, even if they only had limited time.

        But then it struck her, that it didn’t always have to be fate that should handle things. She was the Lantsov Underboss, the one who drove the saintsforsaken Family out of the mud with the Consigliere. If there was something they were good at, it was handling things their own way and bending the odds to their will.

        A near death experience had her questioning herself if she had done enough. She didn’t know the answer by then, but she did now.

        I am not done yet.

        She wouldn’t give up on Nikolai that easily. Even if it took her years to do it. She would bring him back. 

        Because she knew he would do the same for her. 

        I’ll see you again, Nikolai, she vowed. And it wouldn’t be the last. 

        Zoya would make sure of it.

***

A/N: if you’ve reached this far, please know i appreciate you ;-;

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #king of scars #my writing #VINCENZO ENERGY STILL STRONG #i just think the ending is neat okay T-T #but it still makes me emotional #especially that hospital scene ;-; #idk where i went with this but i just know tiff wanted unhinged nik #and it just went this far idk KASDHFKLJADFS #im sorry for the mess tiff #i went overboard with this one am sorry ;-; #but pls have this from me #ilysm ;-; <3 #maybe epilogue soon #not that much edits #we die like men!!! AHLFKJHADFLSH #if you've reached til the end i appreciate you #😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 #happy birthday wife 🥺🥰

[quicksiluers]

for the writing prompts, maybe…48 (could be college rather than high school?) or 23? no need to do both, pick whichever gets the words flowing! (and Grant/Sherman for the ship, unless you’d rather write something else lol, I don’t much mind)

so I went with 23. meeting on the train au, but I love 48 as well so I think I MAY write something for that?? I'll keep you posted!

Once again, I went overboard...cause why not, it's what I do best. Under the cut, hope you enjoy! (and yeah it's Grant/Sherman, I'm on a roll with them so why not lol)

“Folks, we appreciate your patience during this time. Our crew is working hard to fix the issues we seem to be having with the controls. We’re estimating another half hour before we start moving again…”

Grant sighed, gazing out the window. The leaves of the trees were slowly starting to change over from deep green to a smattering of orange, yellow, and red. Some of them blew off their branches, dance like in the wind as they spun around. His eyes followed them as they blew further away before they were lost to him. If he was resulting to watching leaves being pushed around, then Grant knew he was truly bored out of his mind.

Normally, the train was more reliable than this. He had been riding this same line for years and never once had any issues. There was a first time for everything of course. Luckily it was for a trip where he wasn’t in too much of a rush. As much as he wanted to see his family, he didn’t mind a small delay in having to confront another issue with his father. He could already play out the scenario in his head and was exhausted by the idea of it.

Something poking him in the shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, “Hey, do you know if the outlet is working?”

“I believe so,” Grant looked down at his phone, noticing the little charge symbol still over his battery. His eyes caught the brown ones looking back at him, his fellow passenger with a scowl on his face. Either he looked like that all the time or the wait was making the redhead impatient.

It could be a mix of both.

“It is, let me just…,” pulling his charger from the outlet, he held out his hand to the other man, “I can plug it in for you.”

“Thanks,” the other man muttered, “Can’t believe we’re stuck sitting here like this…”

The plug was passed over to him and quickly Grant pressed it into the outlet. He had seen the redhead a few times on the train before. It was hard to miss him. Going to school in DC as he did, it still was rare to see someone with such red hair. He liked it, though he wouldn’t tell his fellow passenger that. He’d think he was some type of creep.

“Well, hopefully, they can get it fixed.”

Scoffing slightly, the ginger raised his eyebrow at him, like the idea of that happening was foolish, “Do you really think they will? I’ll bet it takes another hour.”

Grant frowned at that, the other man’s tone striking a nerve, “Well I think it’ll be a half-hour like they said. Care to make a bet on it?”

Amusement flashed in the stranger’s brown eyes, “What’re we betting?”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want from the dining cart.”

“I have a better idea,” the redhead grinned, “What stop are you getting off at?”

Confused, but unwilling to back down, Grant replied, “New York City.”

The other man’s grin grew, “So am I. Whoever wins has to buy the other one’s dinner. At any place of their choosing.”

“Is there a price limit on this?”

“Why?” He crossed his arms smugly, “Think you’re going to lose?”

The stranger was pushing buttons. Grant stared at him, trying to see past the overconfidence, “Just want to make sure I don’t run you dry when you lose.”

Laughing, the other man put out his hand, “Funny. Fine, how about $50?”

“Seems fair,” he grabbed the other hand, giving it a firm shake, “Grant, by the way.”

“Sherman,” the grin stayed in place, looking down at his phone, “We’ll have to wait and see. Just know that I like spicy food, so hopefully, you can handle that.”

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

“I still can’t believe those assholes fixed it that fast.”

Grant bit into his noodles, covering up the grin on his face. His new friend had been cursing about losing for over an hour.

About five minutes after their bet, the conductor came back over the speakers and said everything was back up and running, much to the delight of the other passengers. Grant kept his face neutral as he watched Sherman’s drop, much to his delight. It wasn’t often that the things he bet on won out in the end.

There was a ramen spot he always stopped at when he was in the city. When he had mentioned it to Sherman, the taller man tried to not be too pouty about it, making Grant laugh.

“Well, maybe next time you’ll have more faith in them,” he teased, mixing over the noodles, trying to absorb more of the flavor into them. Though tempted to find a more expensive spot, he knew better than to be boastful about his win. Any free meal was a good mean in his book, “It is their job.”

Slurping loudly, the redhead grumbled something under his breath that Grant didn’t catch. He rolled his eyes before digging into his food again, savoring the simple flavors. His eyes caught Sherman’s hand going for the spices again and he shook his head, “How can you even eat anything with that much spice?”

“I should be asking how you can eat something with such mundane flavors,” Sherman countered, catching himself at the annoyed expression on Grant’s face. He sprinkled a few more flakes onto the noodles, “I mean…I just don’t understand how you don’t like any spices.”

“I like some,” objected Grant, “They just can’t be…too spicey.”

“Which defeats the purpose,” Sherman pointed out, emphasizing it with his chopsticks, “The spice gives it a rich flavor! And there are so many different kinds, combining them makes anything better. You’re missing out.”

Grant frowned, eyes flickering over to the spices on the table. Why was it bothering him? He barely even knew this guy! People always teased him about his lack of taste before and it never bothered him. But it was different with Sherman, though he couldn’t place why.

Reaching out, he grabbed the container and sprinkled it on top of the remaining noodles. Mixing the flakes in, Grant gathered up a good portion of the noodles and stuck them in. It didn’t seem too bad…

Sherman stared at him, his eyes slightly wide, “Oh shit Grant, you really…”

That determination he prided himself in melted away quickly. His mouth felt like it was on fire, the flavor overwhelming, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to choke or suffering finishing up the food. Quickly, he swallowed the rest, his throat burn as they went down. Grant began to cough into his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut as the burning sensation found its way to his chest.

A glass was pushed into his hand and without even looking he brought it up to his lips, swallowing the contents. It took him a second to realize it wasn’t water, but milk. The pain slowly ebbed away, his tongue still tingling.

A low whistle brought him out of his heat-related pain. Grant looked up, watching Sherman thank a waiter before turning back and looking at him with that dumb smile on his face, “You weren’t kidding about that lack of tolerance.”

He couldn’t tell if it was from the heat of the spice or the rush of embarrassment that made his cheeks burn. Grant grabbed a napkin, whipping his nose with it while glaring at Sherman, “You could have mentioned it was really hot.”

“Hey don’t blame me cause you went all gun-ho with that,” Sherman held his hands up, trying hard not to laugh, “I didn’t dump all of that spice on your food.”

Abandoning the rest of his food, there was no way in he was going to finish it now, the two got up and paid, leaving the restaurant behind. The cool fall air refreshed Grant as they walked along the sidewalk, his tongue still tingling from the awful sensation. The pair walked in silence, the constant city noises filling the void.

“Hey,” Sherman pointed out, grabbing Grant’s arm lightly, “there’s an ice cream place over there. Let me make it up to you since you didn’t get to finish your food.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Grant reasoned, “I was the one who did it.”

“I insist,” the redhead replied, stepping in front of him. Grant’s eyes gazed up at him, furrowing his eyebrows. He hoped he didn’t make Sherman feel bad about what happened. It was just a dumb, spur-of-the-moment decision on his part.

A screeching horn made them jump closer together, heads whipping around toward the noise. The drivers were cursing at each other, one of them shaking their fists, before speeding off on the green light.

Typical New York City, Grant thought, laughing to himself. He felt himself pressed up against something warm and quickly realized how close he was to Sherman. Heat rushed to his face, embarrassment taking over, “Sorry, didn’t realize the car horn made me so…”

Looking anywhere but the redhead, he went to step back when he felt the grip on his arms tighten. Grant froze, looking down at Sherman’s hand. His head felt like it was spinning out of control, emotions all over the place.

“It’s fine…”

Their eyes locked, the noises of the city life around them fading away. Grant wasn’t sure who made the first move but it didn’t matter when their lips came together, the redhead’s chapped slightly from the colder air. Tilting his head, Grant was overcome with a taste of spice that lingered in Sherman’s mouth. He felt his eyes close as he melted into the kiss, sighing softly when Sherman’s lips left his for a moment before taking them again. His hands slide under Sherman’s arms, gripping the back of his coat tightly. Another wave of warmth ran through him when he felt the ginger’s arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their noses bumped into each other, causing them to part.

Grant stared up at him, trying to catch his breath. Sherman’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, a pink hue covering his cheeks.

“…If that’s how you insist on ice cream, I guess I’ll have to say yes.”

The redhead stared down at him with a bewildered expression before laughing, leaning his forehead against Grant’s. Grant leaned back, trying to dig his hills into the cement to support the sudden weight, smiling. Their noses brushed briefly, Sherman lightly kissing again.

“I’m happy to hear it.”

#replies #aceofthyme #writing prompt ask #i also mixed in a bit from araiz's drawings...you'll see how :D #again i got overboard but ugh...i'm having fun with these dumb little meat cute aus

[murumokirby360]

My Essager USB Type C Cable 3A review w/ my Accezz  Type-C To Micro USB Adapter and my Romoss Sense  6 Plus Pro Power Bank  (w/ my Paper Dolls) - Part 6  [Apr 17, 2021]

Hi! Here’s my part 6 of my Essager USB Type C Cable with my Accezz USB Type C to Micro USB Adapter, my Romoss Sense 6+ Pro Power Bank and (as always) my paper dolls.🙂

I’ve already done my two USB Charging Bricks from my two previous parts, so now I’m proceed to my Power Bank charging time test; and thus exactly I’m gonna attempt it, in this part. ⚡📲🔋😊

So in case you haven’t seen my previous Part 5, then please [CLICK ME!].

BTW #1: Once again, I’m using my dad’s phone of the same brand and model as I have; much like I did in the previous one.📱👨

So without further ado, let’s get started:

1st & 2nd Image(s): • For the 3rd time, my Honor 8C’s battery is now fully drained battery. And like I said before, I’m now using my Romoss Power Bank (Sense 6+ Pro / PH80 Pro) as well as my combine USB cable to charge my phone once again.⚡📲🔋

•My paper dolls saying “Will your Romoss Power Bank full charge duration time beats two USB Charging Bricks?” Hmmm... I’m not sure, but will see when I set up.🤔 

3rd & 4th Image(s): • Once that, I’m now connecting my combine USB cable with power bank through my phone and let the charge time begin. Estimate time of beginning charge is: 1:07 AM.🕐⚡📲🔋

BTW #2: I plugged the Fit+ USB port (or rather a quick charge 3.0A) for a better charge performance instead of a regular 2.1A USB port from my Romoss Power Bank (Sense 6+ Pro). But don’t worry, I will try the regular 2.1A USB of the same power bank in my next part. I promise.😉

• My paper dolls are waiting patiently, so in the mean time, I’m playing games with my recent controller while at the same time feeding them with some paper cardboard foods like burgers and fries.😅

5th & 6th Image(s): • At 2:01 AM 🕑, my Honor 8C’s charge percentage is now 50%. According to calculator.net [CLICK ME!], reaching 50% charge time from my Honor phone is 54 Minutes. So here are the comparisons (in 50% charge time):

○ Part 4 (Apr 2nd) | 2:28 AM - 3:16 AM = 48 Minutes ○ Part 5 (Apr 14th) | 12:43 AM - 1:35 AM = 52 Minutes ○ Part 6 (Apr 17th) | 1:07 AM - 2:01 AM = 54 Minutes

• My paper dolls saying that my Huawei USB Charging Brick is still leading in 50% charge time. Indeed, and despite my Honor 8C doesn’t support Qualcomm quick charge, 54 Minutes seems very decent. Also unlike my USB Charging Bricks; it doesn’t heat up my Essager USB Type A plug, due to low voltage and that’s a good thing.🙂👍 

7th & 8th Image(s): • At the estimate time of 3:49 AM 🕒, my Honor 8C phone is now 100% fully charged!📲🔋 💯 Total estimate time to charge from 1:07 AM to 3:49 AM is - 2 Hours 42 Minutes. So here are the comparisons (in 100% charge time):

○ Part 4 (Apr 2nd) | 2:28 AM - 4:49 AM = 2 hours 21 minutes ○ Part 5 (Apr 14th) | 12:43 AM - 3:11 AM = 2 hours 28 minutes ○ Part 6 (Apr 17th) | 1:07 AM - 3:49 AM = 2 Hours 42 Minutes

• So as answer to my paper dolls’ question, it seems that my Romoss Sense 6+ Pro Power Bank (in 3.0 quick charge) didn’t beat my two USB Charging Brick’s full charge duration time. 😕 All well, at least I could charge it on the go with my Power Bank instead of the polar opposite spectrum (you know, searching for electric socket to plug my USB charging brick for phone? Yeah, that polar opposite spectrum).🙂

9th Image: • And take a look of the LED lights from my Romoss Power Bank. I actually fully charge my power bank a week ago, so as you can see I only have 3 lights remaining 💡💡💡, in which indicates 90 to 80 percent remaining battery juice from charging my Honor 8C phone. 🔋📲🙂

Overall: • I think this is a decent charging test with Romoss Power Bank (Sense 6+ Pro / PH80 Pro), and as I mentioned before I choose the quick charge fit+ 3.0A USB port instead of the normal 2.1A USB port. Looks like I’ll waiting to drain my Honor 8C’s battery phone once again for the 4th time to test out with the 2.1A USB port  from my Romoss Power bank in upcoming Part 7, coming up soon.😊 (Speaking of which)

Well that’s all for now, more part about this topic very soon. And if you want to see my previous parts of the same topic review, then I’ll provide some links down below.↓😉

My Essager USB Type C Cable 3A: • Part 1 [Jan 4,2021] • Part 2 [Jan 22, 2021] • Part 3 [Mar 30, 2021] • Part 4 [Apr 2, 2021] • Part 5 [Apr 14, 2021]

Tagged: @lordromulus90, @bryan360, @carmenramcat, @bytern, @gibsonfreak49

#My Photos #My Photo #MyPhotos #MyPhoto #Photos #Photo #Chowder #Panini #Chowder Panini #Paper Dolls #Essager #Essager USB Type C Cable 3A #USB Type C Cable #Accezz #USB Adapter #Romoss #Romoss Sense 6 Plus Pro #Romoss Sense 6+ Pro #Romoss PH80 Pro #Power Bank #Battery Pack #Photography

[theonlyjourneythatmatters]

Another day, another pound

So I know I said I was going to post yesterday, but I had a very long day and I was tired, so I didn't feel like it. I've struggled this week with motivation and energy and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because of this heat- I don't know.

But with that said, I'm here now. And I've learned a few things! As I've said before, I am no expert and do not claim to be. I just know what's been working for me and that I can share that knowledge and experience with ya'll. So here we go.

What I learned this week:

It's better to get your bulk calories in at the beginning of the day. Breakfast should be your heaviest calorie meal. If you prefer a light breakfast, then focus your calories at lunch. This is because you're more likely to work off those calories during the day than you are at night after dinner. I know a lot of people prefer a heavy dinner- but this is a major reason why that weight doesn't come off like you want it to. You're not burning off those dinner calories!

Everything you do burns calories. Well, I didn't JUST learn this- I've known this. But for some reason, it didn't click! So don't think ONLY strenuous exercise will help you burn calories. Of course, exercise will help you burn them faster in a shorter amount of time, but if you can't get to the gym every day, you're still burning calories.

My apple watch tracks everything. I wear it from the time I get up in the morning til I'm ready to lay down for the night. And what's better than counting my steps? It counts the calories burned, too! Adding this at the end of the night helps me keep a better estimate of what I've taken in vs put out for the day for calories. Do yourself a favor- invest in something that keeps track of that (watch, fitbit, etc). It is well worth the money especially for weight loss.

Sundays are for meal-prep!!!

I meal prep for the following week(s) on Sundays. I typically prep every other Sunday for my work lunches. I do -not- meal prep for dinners.

Every Sunday, I prep my snacks for the week (usually strawberries and blue berries). If there's a new item I want to eat, I'll prep that up as well. Today, I wanted to add cabbage soup to the work lunch mix. SO, that's what I did. I made it in the instant pot, so this is the instant pot recipe- but this can be adapted for a regular stove top. I included pictures for reference so ya'll can see the sizes.

I also decided to meal-prep some breakfast; which I do not normally do. But the meal replacement shakes don't seem to be working as well as they had been previously, so I'm going to retire them for a bit.

Cabbage Soup

Ingredients:

2 heads cabbage, medium; chopped in large chunks

3 pieces of thick sliced bacon (I used Great Value brand); chopped and cooked

1 15oz can tomato sauce (Great Value)

1 bag Premium matchstick carrots (Bolthouse Farms- 3.5 oz bag)

1 sweet Vidalia onion, medium size; chopped in small pieces

1 tbsp. of the following: course sea salt, ground black pepper, onion powder, garlic powder, Slap ya Mama Cajun seasoning (or Tony Cacheres- I like my soup to have a bit of a kick, but you can decrease or increase this amount to suit your tastes)

7 cups water (divided- explained in steps)

Directions:

Put the instant pot on sauté and set for 20 minutes. Chop the 3 pieces of bacon into bite sized pieces and begin to cook them until brown. (I cooked mine a little longer so the crisp wasn't completely lost in the soup)

While the bacon is cooking, start cutting up both heads of cabbage. Cut them into 1-1 & 1/2 inch chunks after removing the core. Set aside in large bowl.

Once the bacon is cooked to your liking, add 1/2 cup of water to "deglaze" the pot. This gets up all of that stuck-to-the-bottom flavor that you need. DO NOT DRAIN THE BACON. We need the grease.

Begin to add the cabbage a hand full at a time, making sure it mixes with the water and bacon pieces. Allow each batch to wilt down some before adding the next batch. Continue with the cabbage until it's all incorporated. Once complete, add 1/2 cup of water.

Add the carrots and mix with the cabbage and bacon mixture.

Add all of your seasonings into 1 cup of water and pour over the top of the cabbage. You can mix it now if you want to, or you can wait.

Set the instant pot to pressure cook, and set for 10 minutes. Once the 10 minutes is passed, allow the pot to Natural Release for another 10 minutes. After the Natural Release is done, use the manual release. * NOTE: this is a dish with a good amount of liquid. Use a potholder to dish towel to put over the valve when you do the manual release to avoid any splattering liquids.

Once the pressure is released, stir the soup and taste test it. Add any seasonings you feel like it may need.

Chop the onion into small pieces and add it to the soup. Add the entire can of tomato soup, and 5 more cups of water. Stir well. Pressure cook for another 2 minutes and allow to Natural Release for another 10 minutes. Give it one last stir and taste test, and enjoy!

Step one: Sauté the bacon. Ya'll see all that bacony flavored goodness stuck to the bottom?? We WANT that.

Step two: Cut the cabbage. Size isn't that important- but you do want bigger pieces as cabbage likes to shrink!

Step Four & Five: Mix the cabbage and carrots and allow to wilt a little bit

Finished product: big bowl of deliciousness

This recipe yields 20 cups of soup, which is 10 full servings. There are 48 calories and and 4.8g of proteins in a single cup of soup- but I recommend 2 cups being the serving size.

*This recipe can be changed to fit your specific needs. I do not add meat to mine other than the bacon, but you can add chicken, stew meat, etc. You can also add different veggies. I sometimes add canned diced tomatoes but I didn't have any today. Just be mindful of the added calories and adjust the recipe to reflect that (especially if you're using a calorie counter that allows you to create customized meals).

I got 6 meals out of it (would have been the full 10 but I only had 6 available soup bowls); my husband and I had a bowl each, and so did my son. There was some left but no one wanted it so it got thrown out. It was delicious and filling. And the best part? SUPER low on calories! Most soups are; and I will be adding more to my blog as I make them! I make a knock-off Olive Garden Zuppa Toscano, so that might be my next endeavor!

Breakfast:

For this meal-prep, I used eggs, Conecuh sausage links, bacon (same as the one I used for the soup), and sausage patties.

Breakfast # 1: Scrambled eggs, thick sliced bacon, and Conecuh sausage

Ingredients

2 eggs, scrambled

1 tsp butter (I used Country Crock Churn Style)

1 tsp shredded cheese (I used shredded Colby and Monterey jack Great Value brand)

1 oz Conecuh sausage (you can use any type of sausage- I just prefer this brand)

1.5 slices of thick cut bacon (Great Value brand)

Course sea salt

Ground black pepper

Directions

Make 2 eggs, scrambled with butter and whatever seasonings of your choice

Add the cheese to the eggs when they're almost done cooking

Cook the bacon in the air fryer for 6 minutes (time varies depending on how crispy you like your bacon)

Cook the Conecuh in the air fryer for 7 minutes

Put the eggs in to a freezer-safe bowl

Cut the Conecuh and bacon into smaller pieces and put on top

Freeze

This recipe yields 1 full serving. It has 295 calories and 20.5 grams of protein.

Breakfast 2: Scrambled eggs, Conecuh sausage, and sausage patties

Ingredients

eggs, scrambled

1 tsp butter (I used Country Crock Churn Style)

1 tsp shredded cheese (I used shredded Colby and Monterey jack Great Value brand)

2 sausage patties (I used Tennessee Pride)

1 oz Conecuh sausage (any brand, this one is just my preference)

Course sea salt

Ground black pepper

Directions

Make 2 eggs, scrambled with butter and whatever seasonings of your choice

Add the cheese to the eggs when the eggs are almost done cooking

Cook the sausage patties in the air fryer for 8 minutes or until cooked through

Cook the Conecuh in the air fryer for 7 minutes

Put the eggs in to a freezer-safe bowl

Cut the Conecuh and sausage patties into smaller pieces and put on top

Freeze

This recipe yields 1 full serving. It has 481 calories and 29.6g of protein.

But enough of the recipes......

Like I stated previously, it's important to get the bulk of your calories during the day so you have the opportunity to burn them off. I've just been walking. I walk at work, I walk around the house- when I shop, that's when I get a lot of steps in.

Granted, walking doesn't burn a lot of calories. However, if you have your tracker on, throughout the entire day, you'll have burned at least 1 full meal off. It is also especially important to stay hydrated. Water no only helps with cutting down muscle pain (when you exercise), drinking a full 8 oz of water before each meal and after can help you feel fuller faster, and feel fuller longer.

I purchased a QuiFit 1 Gallon Water Bottle from Amazon. It arrived today and I plan to use it at work. I have the worst time drinking enough at work. The water from the sink tastes funny. We have a fountain that fills water bottles, but and don't always remember to bring a bottle of water that I can refill later. The simplest solution was to buy a water bottle and keep it at work.

I think that's all for today, guys. I have school work to do! I'll make a post later next week (unless something cool happens before then that I need to mention) that details what types of foods I eat for dinner since I do not meal prep those.

Have a great day, and thanks for reading!

XOXO, Lauren <3

[diabeticlichen-thropy]

Resolution Through Dialogue (and fists if needed)

Story with Diabetic OC

Chapter II - 2,777 words

Chapter II

Theo was an agent for the FBI’s Criminal, Cyber, Response and Services Branch. She had been with her department for a decade after her recruitment after finishing her PhD in Microbiology at UC Berkeley where she and Chris met. She worked as an agent within the Critical Incident Response Group where she spent most of her days working under Unit Chief Lucas Secman and with a team of five other close agents, Daniel Penzias, Annalise Olivier, Jason Moran and Hugo Stoneward as a member of the Crisis Negotiation Unit. The team was closer than most due to the graphic, intense and often strange nature of their work, coupled with their strange hours and long days.

Today Theo walked into the office to everyone crowded around Jason’s desk, “What’s going on?” She asked as she approached the crowd. “Jason is showing everyone his new kitten” Daniel told her. Her coworkers turned to face her and parted to show her, the usually stone faced Agent Moran cradling a tiny black and white kitten, smiling down at it. “You got a cat?” She asked shocked, Moran had never seen like the pet type

“I found him while I was out running over the weekend, he was starving and stuck down a drain, I couldn’t leave him. Meet Derek”

Theo cooed at the kitten, scratching him behind the ears. Moran having rescued the cat made sense, the man had a paternal streak a mile wide, it was part of the reason he was such a good agent especially in cases involving children.

The scene was interrupted when Secman’s door swung open and the call of “conference room” alerted the agents to a new case. The group filed out of the bullpen and into the team’s designated conference room. Secman took his seat at the head of the table and handed files to each agent. Theo flipped hers open skimmed the details. Her heart began to sink. They were needed for a hostage negotiation at a middle school in Utah. There were at least three armed gunmen and an additional two armed students, as well as two suspected explosive devices. There was no time for discussion on the ground as Secman told Hugo to stay behind and liaise from Washington, and the rest of the team to grab their go-bags from their desks and meet in the Bureau jet in twenty. Theo and Daniel raced to their desks, each pulling a duffel bag from their places under their desks and giving each other a look. After their many years working together they had this routine down pat. He threw Theo his water bottle and she jogged to fill both of them up while he raided the kitchen for snacks. He grabbed a couple of mini bags of chips along with a pack of juice boxes for Theo and some granola bars for himself. They met back at their desks and ran through their mental checklists. Theo swore to herself under her breath and went back to the kitchen, grabbing three insulin vials out of the fridge followed by three infusion sets and a handful of test strips and slipping them in a refrigerated bag in her bag. Checking their watches the two grabbed their bags and joined Annalise in a Suburban as they headed to the airport, the rest of the team not far behind.

On board the jet the situation was tense. Theo had sent Chris a text right before they took off, briefing him on what she could and letting him know that she may not be home for a few days. The couple was relatively used to this situation and Chris had just wished her luck and told her to stay safe and that he hoped she’d be able to call that night. Hugo had gotten some more information out of the South Jordan Police Department. The school had approximately 1,400 students and of those, an estimated 1,200 were on campus. Most were supposedly congregated in the gym but smaller class-sized groups were spread throughout the main building. The local field office and bomb disposal squad were to meet them on the scene once the CNU had arrived. The small police department had been completely overwhelmed by the scale of the crisis and with hundreds of panicked parents, the team’s skills were desperately needed. Secman was in Unit Chief mode, designating roles for each team member so that they could hit the ground running. Hugo was running intel from his office in Washington and currently video chatting with the team on board. Jason was to handle the police department and bomb squad, getting information and forming a strategy. Daniel was going to liaise with the field office, Annalise needed to see what she could get from the parents who’s children were in contact with them as well as anyone else with potential information from inside the school. Finally, Secman and Theo were to set up a negotiation strategy with the offenders inside.

“We’re unlikely to get much sleep for the next 48 hours or so, so try to use the next three hours on here to nap” Secman informed the team signifying that the briefing was over. Theo and Daniel moved away from the table to one of the sofa-like set ups that lined the jet. All of the agents on the teams had become pros at sleeping when and were they could and within 15 minutes the jet was silent as most of the team slept. Theo was dozing when a sudden aggressive beeping jolted her to alert. As she began to move the weakness that signified a hypoglycaemic event made itself apparent along with the slight shake in her hands. From across the aisle Secman, not looking up from the mess of papers in front of him, tossed her a mini packet of skittles. She checked the number on her pump, 60mg/dl and tore open the packet pouring most of the skittles into her mouth. She grabbed her bottle of water out of her bag and began to sip on it. She sat there spaced out, eating skittles for about 15 minutes until Secman let her know that she was above 70 and handed her a granola bar. She shared the data from her CGM with her whole team in case something went dramatically wrong while working a case. It gave everyone more peace of mind that she had support if she needed it. Once her brain and body were finally back online she tried to catch some more sleep for the next few hours so that she was at her best once they landed.

The jet touched down in Salt Lake City at around lunch time and the team climbed straight into the provided cars for the 20 minute drive to South Jordan. Theo found herself headed to the school along with Jason, Annalise and Secman while another car took Daniel to the local field office. As soon as the car was put in park at the scene, agents poured out of the car, pulling their FBI bullet-proof vests over their heads. Annalise was escorted by the local PD to a group of parents sheltering in a taped-off area to begin assessing the situation, Jason was taken over to the current mission control and was soon commanding the attention of the various police officers and the kitted-up bomb squad. Secman strode off in the direction of a singular police car and FBI vehicle and Theo followed behind him.

“Unit Chief Lucas Secman of the CNU” he said shaking the hands of the local Chief of Police and a few local agents. “SSA Penzias” Theo introduced herself, doing the same. “We’re sorry that this has happened but we’re here to help”

“What’s the plan for negotiations?” Secman asked, skipping any further pleasantries and getting straight to the point “According to school records we have twelve hundred students from grades seven through nine. We have been approached by an offender who introduced himself as Allen but we have yet to extend any further contact beyond acknowledging them and getting a welfare guarantee”, the chief gave them the rundown. The agents nodded, “what about the students not in the gym? Do we have anything on them?” Theo asked.

“We have information from class records that suggests that most of the science classes have been locked in the laboratories”

“Ages?” Secman asked shortly, clearly wanting to get on with it.

“Mostly eighth and ninth graders” the chief responded. Secman turned to Theo,

“Get Stoneward on the line and get him to start trying to get some sort of satellite map of classes, if he can get a current thermal image even better” he turned to the chief, “we’re going to need a phone to contact the attackers inside as well as a line to the media, Agent Penzias will handle them”. While her boss continued to issue orders and get set up for negotiations, Theo pulled out her laptop and contacted Hugo. “Theo, what’s needed?” He asked, she could see his fingers racing across his keyboard as the monitors behind him showed current media coverage as well as satellite images and the police scanners for the county. “Lucas wants current satellite imagery, preferably thermal, we still don’t know where all of the students are located”

“On it” he responded, “I’ll set up a live capture and send it to your laptop”

“Thanks” she told him, walking back over to the group, “we’ll have a thermal and satellite livestream within a few minutes” she told Secman. He nodded in her direction, turning back to the local, Special Agent in Charge, “could you please contact the Hostage Rescue Team, I’m hoping we can do this through negotiation but I don’t want to risk the lives of these children if things go south”. The agent gave a sharp nod and walked away to do just that. The rest of the congregated officers and agents took that as their dismissal and most headed in different directions across the school’s parking lot leaving Theo, Secman and a few local agents huddled around Theo’s laptop, viewing Hugo’s livestreams and discussing potential tactics with the rest of the unit once Daniel arrived a few moments later. The unit decided to establish contact inside the school without waiting for Hostage Rescue but have them en route in the case of things going wrong. The team moved into action.

With Hugo’s voice and support filtering through their earpieces the CNU gathered around a squad car. Secman picked up the megaphone “I am Unit Chief Lucas Secman with the FBI’s Crisis Negotiation Unit and would like to talk to you. We will establish contact through the school’s phones”. With that he set down the megaphone and turned to Jason who handed him a phone with the school’s internal number already dialled. The dial tone sounded once, twice, three times before connecting, “Agent Secman I assume, my name is Samuel”, Secman shot a glance to the laptop where Hugo nodded to show that he was receiving the audio from the conversation, “good afternoon Samuel”, Hugo nodded again to show he had both ends of the call recorded. It wouldn’t have been obvious to those who didn’t know him, but the team watched as Hugo’s reassurance caused their supervisor to visibly relax. “How are the students?” Secman asked, a little more confidence in his stance. He was in command of the situation.

“The students are fine, agent. However, my associates and I are not. We feel like we’ve been ignored” the smug voice came down the line. Theo remained stone faced but internally grimaced at the man’s tone.

“How so?” Secman asked

“Well you see my friends and I have some demands that we’ve raised but no one has listened until now. We’ve been forced into drastic measures but it’s nobody’s fault but your own agent”

Theo shot a glance to her fellow agents and Moran gave her a nod. That was her signal. She snatched her laptop off the hood of the cruiser and walked swiftly to one of the Suburbans. This was an established routine and she heard the audio in her earpiece switch from Hugo’s office to Secman’s phone conversation as Hugo realised what was going on. Once in the car she routed Hugo’s voice chat through the laptop as he isolated their call from the other’s earpieces. They didn’t need the distraction. “Alright Stoneward let’s do this” she told Hugo as she opened another window on the laptop. “Let’s go through repeated police reports in the last three years in the South Jordan area”

“Once we’ve got those we can cross-check with the name Samuel to see what we’ve got”. Theo hummed as she texted Penzias the update and what they were doing. She pulled up the local PD’s records only to sigh when she realised what a mess they were. She heard an answering groan from the speakers as Hugo saw the same thing. “Alright, you take 2016, I’ll take 2017” she said, “focus on causes that people focus around, environmental issues, vandalism, gentrification things like that”. However, as the words came out her mouth she realised something. “Actually, you take the police complaints, I’m going to look into complaints made to the city”.

Samuel seemed to have gotten defensive and so Secman had switched tactics to appealing to the safety of the children. Theo pulled up the city’s records over the last five years, she searched for complaints made to council members, letters to the mayor and residential complaints. She cross-checked for repeated complaints and anything that involved the name Samuel. That brought back hundreds of names and motivations. She sighed at the sheer size of the task she seemed to be facing, but sat up and thought through how to reduce the results down to likely pools. She filtered by age of the complainant, setting the range to white men in their thirties to fifties. That dramatically reduced the number, it looked like many of the grievances were the local elderly, not that Theo found that surprising. Her phone beeped, Secman needed her back out in the negotiation so she quickly sent her reduced list to Stoneward with a note of where she was at and jogged back across the lot to the rest of her team.

Annalise grabbed her by the elbow, “so Secman has managed to get welfare checks and a name list of students in the school but he can’t make head or tail of why” she informed Theo, “he wants you to talk to him”. A shiver crawled up Theo’s spine at the thought of communicating with the creep who was placing so many children at risk but this was the job. She nodded at Annalise, “thanks for the rundown” she said and the two agents walked over. Secman raised an eyebrow at her, checking she knew what was going on. Theo just gestured for the phone and he handed it to her. “Samuel yes? This is Supervisory Special Agent Theo Wilson with the CNU, how are you today?”

“Skip the pleasantries agent, what are you after?” the man asked shortly, Theo winced internally but showed nothing. “I would like to know why you’re keeping the students hostage” she told him honestly, running through possible ways this conversation could go in the back of her mind. “I already told Lucas there, we’ve been forced into this”

“Forced? How so? I don’t assume anyone is holding you at gunpoint are they Sammy?” Theo asked. She saw Hugo’s head snap in her direction at the tone she was taking but Daniel held a hand up to the screen quieting him. There was a pause on the other end of the line, brief but enough to show the team that he’d been caught off guard by Theo’s approach. “You’re well aware then that we are the armed ones agent” the retort came.

“Of course you are, you couldn’t pull this off by yourself could you? No. You chose children because they’re easy to overpower. You have fellow conspirators because you could never do this alone” Theo further antagonised. “So now that we’ve established that you’re not the big intimidating man you think you are, how about we discuss this like adults instead of throwing, what appears to be, a large scale temper tantrum? Now. Would you like to discuss this with me? Or with Secman?” The pause on the other end was much longer this time. The silence seemed to last minutes. “You have five minutes to decide” she said and hung up.

Taglist

@diabets @diabadass-vs-the-world

#diabetic! reader #Diabetic fiction #t1d #Type 1 diabetes #criminal minds #OC #writing #type1diabetes #insulin pump #diabetes #novel #typeonediabetes #type one diabetes #actually diabetic

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 19

If you're new: this is my procrastination fic. It is what I drabble around with when I'm being my worst self, and ignoring all my other WIPs and responsibilities! Enjoy!

X

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

=

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Delilah inhaled deeply, stirring suddenly out of slumber. Her eyes barely opened and focused on a shadow in front of her before the scream ripped out of her throat. Loki sat up beside her, daggers brandished and in search of blood, eyes wild and unfocused.

"For fuck's sake, Bucky! What the hell!?" Delilah shrieked, throwing pillows at the shadowed figure. For what it was worth, he looked apologetic for having nearly given her a heart attack. She did not, however, appreciate the fact that the only thing between Bucky and her naked form was 800 threads of black Egyptian cotton she was holding up with her left hand. Or the fact that he had found them asleep in Loki's quarters. Or that he found them naked in Loki's quarters. They had made it a point to be careful, and yet here they were.

"Sorry, Li. You didn't answer your phone."

"What's up?" She asked, once her heartbeat had gone back down. Loki groaned, falling back onto the pillows to slumber.

"There's a situation, we're going off on a mission. We were hoping we could borrow him," he replied, jutting his jaw out at Loki, who turned his eyes to stare curiously at the Winter Soldier. "It's that group Dwyer was part of–"

"And you want to take Loki? On a mission?" Delilah glanced to her right, cutting across the calculating green gaze piercing the dark. "He's clear for it on my end, but you might want to, you know, ask him."

"You in? Two days, tops. We're just raiding a warehouse." Bucky stared expectantly. "Strange could use some magic back-up."

Loki narrowed his eyes at Bucky before he sat back up, turning his gaze at Delilah. A hand rested on her bare back, sending a shiver down her spine. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"I have Einherjar and this," she replied, tugging at the silver chain around her neck. "And about a million different daggers. It would only be two days." She shrugged, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes with the heel of her right hand. "Do you want to go?"

"I'd like to assist, yes."

"Good. Wheels up in one hour." He left before the other two could respond.

Loki took care dressing. It had been a while since he had pulled on any clothes that weren't Midgardian in fashion or design. Even for training, he had gone for Earthly training garb, weighing himself down with discs to mimic his armor. He had not felt the need to parade around in his royal dress, and at current moment he debated whether he wanted to break the streak.

The simpler battle leathers hung in his wardrobe fit comfortably. There were no flashy embellishments or trinkets–just leather and magic in black and green, layered and spelled to keep the better part of injuries at bay. Delilah had insisted on helping, despite the fact he could spell his armor on faster than he could explain how each piece fit. Still, there was something soothing about her, still naked from the night before, lacing up his vambraces after a little direction. They had ended up having to refasten his cuisse after a lone brush of her fingers down his chest had caused him to all but rip his trousers off and sink into her warmth.

"Are you nervous?" She asked, sitting cross-legged in bed after summoning the energy to dress. The jeans and T-shirt she wore were no less appealing than her bare skin, so he tore his eyes away before another re-doing of his armor was needed.

"Only about leaving you unattended. Norns know what could happen when I'm gone." The notch that formed between his brows confirmed his concern, but Delilah was quick to brush it aside. Not to mention, she could feel his anxiety as easily as her own.

"I'll be fine. Just hurry up back to me, OK?" Loki nodded, dropping to his knees before her and making a point of kissing her so thoroughly he could sculpt her lips from memory. "Let's go. It's almost time."

"I love you," he said, knowing it would be impossible to say once they got to the helipad.

"I love you, too."

Sam let out a cross between a groan and a yell when they arrived at the helipad ten minutes later. "Frickin' finally! How long did it take you to tear this fool away from a damn book?" Both Loki and Delilah were confused but tried not to show it in their expressions. "Also, why are you in the library at 3 am? Do you have nothing better to do?"

Loki rolled his eyes, looking nonplussed. "Some of us knowhow to read, Falcon," he sassed before cutting his eyes at Delilah. Delilah, however, was mouthing a quiet thank you to Bucky, who shrugged.

Stephen poked his head out of the Quinjet, watching Loki cast one last longing stare at Delilah before marching past him onto the ship. Strange rolled his eyes, frowning at the woman. "Oh, come on! I thought you were better than that!"

"Lower your expectations, Strange. We're all trash," she joked, rolling her eyes just as petulantly. "I want you all back in one piece, OK? Be safe!" She watched Sam, Strange, and Bucky pack into the jet. Loki lingered by the doors as they closed and offered a half-wave that she returned before they had slipped through a portal Strange had evidently created.

--

"Delilah." There was no answer as Pepper waved a hand in front of the other woman's face. "Lilah. Lilah! Lilah! LILAH!"

Seemingly snapping out of it, Delilah turned her eyes at the redhead with a frown. "Did you say something, Pep?"

"Like twenty minutes worth of something, yeah," she joked, closing the files on Delilah's desk with a sigh and pushing them aside. "How long has it been, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know that face. I invented that face." Pepper leaned forward, propping her elbows on the desk. "How long since he left on mission, Li?"

Color rushed to her cheeks, and she slumped in her chair despite the desire to deny the accusation. It was no use. She was distracted and jumpy ever since the mission had gone on radio silence. Ever since she felt Loki's last emotion tugging at her through space. "It'll be twenty-nine hours… now," Delilah replied, glancing at the minute hand of the clock on the opposite wall.

"I would say that the waiting is the worst part, but… that's not true," Pepper admitted, eyes softening.

Delilah sighed, not knowing whether to feel better or worse. She had never considered the possibility of anything going wrong. It sounded ridiculous. "I'm not worried. Quick warehouse raid. Two days."

"Oh, you sweet innocent child." Lilah shuddered at the implication behind her expression. "Always add two days to whatever estimate they give you. Always expect them to come home with significantly fewer limbs. Don't watch the news."

Delilah had heeded Pepper's warning. For the most part. She had added extra time to their time away since the team had not shown any signs of returning after 48 hrs. Missing limbs weren't really a concern to Loki, who somehow cheated death an extraordinary number of times. After nine days of no information, however, she had succumbed to the temptation to turn on the news.

"We're coming to you now, live, from the scene of the battle. Early yesterday afternoon the underground movement known as PURITY took arms against the superhero group formerly known as the Avengers. Local infrastructure has been severely damaged and the city evacuated, though local authorities have no estimate for when the area would be safe to return."

Delilah stared the screen, teetering on the edge of her seat as she watched mortar and brick explode in dusty clouds.

"Local witnesses report the sighting of one Loki of Asgard working alongside the superheroes. Loki is better known as the figure responsible for the 2012 attacks in Germany and New York City that ended in the invasion of the Chitauri aliens."

Out of the corner of the screen she could see a pair of golden horns stretching towards the sky in a gentle swoop. He was running, pumping his arms before throwing a dagger in his right hand, dispensing with a group of attackers in a single shot. The image shook and Loki whirled around on a dime. A building in the background was trembling on itself and out the bare front threshold, Sam ran out with a bundle in his arms, one metal wing bent and smoking. Loki glanced up, momentarily frozen, before he made off like a shot. With a twist of his hands Sam flew off to the side, leaving Loki with his arms up, trying to manipulate the building to keep it standing.

Bucky and Strange came out a few moments later, their arms equally laden with bundles that Delilah realized were children. She gasped, a hand covering her mouth–if to keep herself from screaming or crying, she didn't know. On the video, Loki's teeth were grit in effort and concentration, and as time trickled past, his whole body trembled, all in the name of allowing Sam another run inside.

Another building imploded nearby just as Sam skirted by. There was a shouted exchange that Delilah could not read as the air thickened with dust and destruction. She didn't notice that she had kneeled in front of the television set, mere inches away from the picture. With bated breath she watched him slowly turn, trying to get distance between himself and the collapsing structure. Out of the far left corner a group of attackers was closing in. They opened fire upon the god. He threw his mouth open in a roar and in a flash of lights, there was nothing left but rubble.

"Loki!" Delilah squeaked, tears running down her face. As the haze cleared, she could make out Bucky sorting through the stones while Sam and Strange tried to pull him away. Another group was closing in and they had to move. The signal flickered before it went dark.

Lilah wasn't sure how long she had stared at the blank screen for. "FRIDAY, where's the Quinjet?" She demanded as she pleaded for the transmission to restart.

The AI prickled overhead. "The Quinjet is in stealth mode and cannot be tracked."

"Don't give me that shit, FRIDAY. I know Tony patched that bug!"

"I don't have any information, Del. I'm sorry."

She growled, getting to her feet and pacing around the room. Her hands itched to toss things around, a reaction that was very much atypical for her, but there was a desperation in her soul that she could not logically explain away. Sure, Loki had survived far worse, but at what point did the lottery stop pulling up his lucky numbers.

The predatory stalking persisted into the early hours of the morning. She had not stopped to eat or drink, only to bark annoyedly at FRIDAY who continually told her that she had no information. The news channels had lost their feed. She was in the dark both metaphorically and literally. Her pacing had outgrown the expanse of both hers and Loki's apartments, and so she had taken to the hallways. Her stomping footsteps made it abundantly clear that she was not in the mood to talk to anyone. Even Tony's hologram promptly backed away when he naively asked what the matter was.

Around twenty minutes past four in the morning, on the eleventh day, Delilah happened to be walking past the cargo bays on her usual circuit. The complex doors opening caught her attention from several hallways away and she wasted no time in running towards the disturbance.

"You could be bleeding internally, you idiot! Go see Banner!" Delilah could make out Sam's voice yelling over the strained sound of a scuffle.

"Listen here, you pathetic worm. She thinks me dead–"

"And you will be if you don't get checked out!" Sam interrupted. As Delilah turned the corner, she could see Sam holding Loki in a chokehold, and doing his best to hold his own and try to wrestle the Asgardian onto the floor.

"Loki." The name dropped from her lips in a whisper before she had even noticed it. It had been exceedingly quiet, but she felt like, at that moment, he could have heard it across the Nine without issue. A wave of relief washed over her like a riptide that left her momentarily dizzy. They needed to work on controlling emotions through this connection, but that was a topic for another day.

The Asgardian sunk to the floor without any more hesitation and Sam panted. "Will you just tell her you're in love with her so I don't have to deal with your erratic ass every time we go on mission? I can't have you going from chill to feral at the drop of a hat!"

"Dude." It was Bucky who spoke, leaning against the jet doors with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He wiggled the fingers on his left hand and Sam focused on the silver band glinting in the nightlights.

The Falcon turned to Loki with a scowl. "Then, what the hell was that all about?"

"She thought me dead," he repeated, much gentler this time, having eyes only for Delilah. Leaving Sam to mutter angrily under his breath about having to deal with him being crazy for days while turning to unpack the Quinjet with Bucky.

Loki hissed, struggling to get his feet under him. Delilah found she had suddenly frozen to her spot, unsure as to whether or not this was real or if she had become so desperate to see her lover again that she had hallucinated. His right eye was swollen shut and his nose was most likely broken. Though his armor covered most injuries, he was holding his left arm at an odd angle and limping on the same side. Every time he stepped, he left behind a trail of blood droplets from an unknown source.

He still made it to her, close enough for her to close her fists around the loose leather chest piece to keep him from collapsing. Their lips connected in a short but intense kiss that tasted bitter and metallic to her tongue. When she focused, she noticed his mouth was full of blood and she hoped to any deity that would listen that it was his own.

"I need a medic quite urgently."

"FRIDAY, get Bruce to the Medbay."

"On it, boss!"

When Loki came to several hours later, the sun was streaming through the windows of the hospital and threatening to trigger a headache. Beside his cot, Delilah sat, slumped in her chair, asleep, looking about as tired as he felt. They really needed to control their shared emotions. A world away, he had felt the utter terror of when that damn building fell, pinning him down in the process. He felt the despair of thinking him dead, and he was sure she felt his desperate attempts to get back and prove that rumor incorrect. It wouldn't do for them to always have to deal with that. Still, he felt like he had earned the right to her feelings and didn't want to deprive himself of them, ever.

"Hey, you're awake!" Bruce exclaimed, and Loki drew a finger to his lips, gesturing towards Delilah. "Sorry," he continued, much quieter. "You're lucky you're not human or else you'd be pretty much a goner. You maxed out your nanobots treatment in an hour. You'll be out of commission for a while." He tapped at his tablet to page through his medical chart. "Barnes said you saved an orphanage."

"Yes, we did."

"No. He said you saved an orphanage," he corrected, glancing over his glasses.

Loki eased himself up with a hiss. "Yes, well. I am not overly fond of watching children die in a war they didn't ask for." He reached over for Delilah, brushing a curl out of her face with a smile. "Is she going to be alright?"

"She'll be fine. You're the one bleeding internally."

"I'm made of steel. She's cotton wool. I'm a lot more worried about her."

Bruce grinned knowingly. "A little sleep deprivation. She'll be good in a few hours." He replaced the tablet in the slot at the end of the bed. "Should I expect an invitation in the mail or…?"

Loki chuckled. "I'm more likely to shout it off the rooftops now that people know, if I'm honest." He shrugged, exerting as much seidr as he had left to float Delilah into his cot beside him. "I didn't think everyone would be this interested."

"We've learned to appreciate the little things." The giant man shrugged, smiling affectionately at how Loki tucked the girl into his side and wrapped her tight in blankets. "Get some sleep and recover so she can do the same." Loki nodded, snuggling down into the medical bed with a groan. "You did good, Loki."

"Thank you, Banner." Loki frowned at how heartfelt the sentiment became. He felt like, at some level, he was erasing some of the errors of his other self.

#Loki #Loki MCU #Loki (Marvel) #MCU fanfiction #MCU fanfic #MCU #alternate timeline #fix it #time heist #Loki x oc #Loki x ofc #mcu

[myheartlove]

Sleepibella’s Detox Pearls.

SleepiBella Yoni Detox Pearls are a natural approach to

restoring feminine health . yoni detox pearls

The pearls hold

powerful herbs that aid in the removal of toxins from the vagina that may be

working against the overall health of the woi help to provide vaginal

tightening, decrease vaginal dryness and allow the blood to recircula te

throughout the womb and uterus.They also aid in improving yeast and bacterial

infections, infertility, fibroids, irregular menstruation,

detox pearls

vaginal dryness,

pelvic inflammatory disease, urine incontinence, and expelling fluid build ups

that are not expelled during the menstrual cycle that can cause cysts and

fibroids.

WHO SHOULDN'T USE IT

Please do NOT use if you're pregnant, breastfeeding, or on

your period. It's also recommended that if you are a virgin to avoid using the

pearls. Due to the strong nature of the herbs, vaginal detox pearls

the pearls have the

ability to break the hymen.

If you have an IUD, use at your own risk. In rare circumstances, pearls have

dislodged the IUD.

HOW TO USE

DIRECTIONS :

1. Thoroughly wash your hands, open the pouch, remove one new ANCOR .

2. Pull out the string of the Pearl.

3. Steep in warm water for 5 to 10 minutes

4. Remove from warm water and Insert Pearl inside your vagina approximately 7

centimeters deep using your finger or empty tampon applicator, leave some

string hanging outside of the vagina for Pearl retrieval.

5. Remove the Pearl from your vagina 48 hours later or you may keep the pearl  inside of you for up to three days, then

remove.

6. You may insert a second new Pearl 24 hours after you remove Pearl number

one. yoni

pearls detox

You may keep Pearl

number two inside of you for up to 3 days, then remove.

7. You may insert a third new Pearl 24 hours after you remove Pearl number two.

You may keep the Pearl inside of you for up to 3 days, then remove.

WILL I EXPERIENCE ANY DISCOMFORT?

Due to the toxins being drawn out, every woman will have a

different experience.It is possible that while using this you may experience an

unbalanced PH

some women experience vaginal dryness (very normal).

No order or itch but might be a bit uncomfortable yoni pearls before and after

If you experience dryness or itchiness, apply Sleepibella’s essential yoni oil

to vulva for relief .

some women may develop a yeast infection after the use of the detox pearls. If

that happens, use SleepiBella feminine wash, refreshing mist or SleepiBella

Aloe Vera sensitive wash

If you experience a yeast infection this does not mean that the detox pearls

didn’t work. The herbs in the detox ANCOR have still circulated through your

body and once the yeast infection clears up you should see a difference in your

vagina , if not another cleanse is recommended.

Am I done detoxing?

Detox is completed Once all the discharge has left your

body, it is recommended to wait an additional day or two after you think you’ve

finished to let the remaining expel out of the body

What to expect

During the extraction process women with fibroids and cyst

might feel a mild cramping.

This is normal

Due to the toxins being drawn out of the vagina opening some women might

experience

mild itching.

Some women may experience a mild odor that will clear up once the process is

over

What to do if Period comes during detox?

If this happens take out the pearl and wait a couple days after menstration

diminishes before resuming with the detox

OTHER THINGS TO KNOW

1.      

Three pearls equals one cleanse.

2.      

It's recommended six Yoni pearls to start a

thorough cleanse. General cleansing time is estimated between seven to nine

days (depending on your body, some detoxes may last longer).

Do NOT use Yoni pearls seven days before the onset of

menstruation; womb detox pearls

3.      

wait at

least 4 days after your last day of menstruation before using pearl.

4.      

It is normal that after removal of pearls for

pearls to look the same as they did before inserting

5.      

Detox pearls promotes blood flow you may

experience some spotting that stops in few days

6.      

The mesh on the pearl is supposed to stay

on

7.      

Wait three months after giving birth before

using detox pearls

8.      

Some women may experience frequent urination

9.      

Dont use SleepiBella yoni steam herbs with

Sleepibella’s detox pearls at the same time

10.  

Choose which one to use first if you decide in

using our steaming herbs first wait 2 days before inserting pearls if you

decide to use our detox pearls first wait 5 days after removing pearl before

steaming.

11.  

If you feel uncomfortable or dizzy please remove

pearl and drink plenty of water

[lovemesomesurveys]

What Rhymes With “ATE”?

1. What’s the last thing you ate? Ramen.

2. Do you have a gate to your backyard? Yeah.

3. Who’s your best mate? My mom.

4. How often do you mate? Have sex? Never have.

5. What would you use as bait on a fishing hook? I wouldn’t even go fishing let’s be real, but fine if I did I’d use worms or whatever I guess alkjfklfjklf. I wouldn’t be the one to put it on, though!

6. What do you bate your breath with? Any anxious situation. 

7. What’s the last thing you got in a crate? I don’t get things in crates.

8. When’s the last time you went on a date? Where did you go? Almost 5 years ago. It was a cute coffee and bookstore date with Ty. That was our favorite thing to do.

9. Do you believe in fate? No.

10. Have you ever seen a freight train in person before? Yeah.

11. Do you like grated cheese? Yesss.

12. Do you have an awkward gait? As a paraplegic, no I do not. Everything else about me is awkward, though.

13. When’s the last time you truly felt great? When I was a kid.

14. Who do you hate? Besides myself, no one.

15. Do you know of anyone named Kate or Nate? No.

16. When’s the last time you were late for something? I don’t recall. I’m big on being punctual.

17. Do you know how to plait hair? I haven’t heard it called that, but yes.

18. Do you have a favorite plate? Paper plates, ha.

19. Would rather ice skate or roller skate? I can’t do either one.

20. How would you rate this survey so far? I’ve enjoyed all your surveys!

21. Do you ever just wish for a clean slate? Yesssss.

22. What state do you live in? (if you’re American) California.

23. What is your current state of mind? Blah.

24. Are you straight? Yes.

25. Are you straight-laced? Straight-edged? No, because apparently you can’t have caffeine or narcotics to be considered straightedge, both of which I have.

26. Have you ever visited a strait? No.

27. What’s your best personality trait? Sense of humor.

28. How long will you wait for someone/something? I don’t know? 

29. What is your weight? I’m not exactly sure, but I think mid to low 70lbs. 

30. Are you awaiting anything special? No.

31. Do you berate anyone? Nooo.

32. Is there anyone you’d like to castrate? Uh, no!

33. Are you a cheapskate? Lol I have my moments, but I also can overspend. Just depends, really.

34. When was the last time you collated papers? I don’t recall.

35. Last thing you created? Uhhh.

36. What was your last debate about? I really try and avoid those.

37. Last time you inflated something? Or deflated? I don’t recall.

38. Do you dictate what other people can do? No.

39. Have your pupils ever dilated before? When I go to the eye doctor. 

40. When’s the last time you donated something? A few months ago when I got rid of some clothes.

41. The last time you felt elated? My Disneyland trip earlier this year.

42. Have you ever been to an estate sale? No.

43. What are you fixated on? Health related stuff.

44. How often do your floodgates open? I cry often.

45. Last thing you equated? Hmm.

46. Last time you felt frustrated? The last few days. I feel that way quite often.

47. Do you remember to stay hydrated? Yeah.

48. Do you live upstate? No.

49. How often do you post status updates? I very rarely post status updates on Facebook anymore, I just share things now and then. I tweet a lot, though.

50. How often do you use Google Translate? Not often, but sometimes. I actually did a couple days ago.

51. Who is a classmate that you are still friends with?

52. Have you ever had a teammate before? No.

53. Have you ever tailgated? No.

54. Have you ever reached a stalemate? That’s how I’ve felt the past few years.

55. Have you ever been sedated? Yeah, several times.

56. Do you rotate your mattress? No.

57. Last time you got a rebate? It’s been awhile, but I used to use Ebates (called Rakuten now). I keep forgetting to use it for some reason, which is dumb.

58. Have you ever felt like you could relate to someone? Yeah, many times.

59. Favorite primate? I don’t have one.

60. Do you have something ornate? Uhh. I don’t really have anything fancy.

61. Has an action ever negated the effect of your efforts? Yes.

62. Could you be described as a lightweight? Ha, yeah. For sure.

63. Would you like to visit Kuwait? I haven’t thought about it.

64. Last person that gyrated near you? No one.

65. Do you know someone who is irate or innate? Hmm.

66. Do you know of any inmates? Yes.

67. How long does it take you to acclimate? I struggle with change.

68. Last time you activated something? Not too long ago.

69. What do you advocate for? Stuff.

70. Last time you felt agitated or aggravated? Recently.

71. Last time you had to annotate something? Recently during my Bible study.

72. Have you ever felt alienated before? Yes.

73. What was the last caffeinated beverage you consumed? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

74. Do you like carbonated drinks? Yeah.

75. What captivates you? Staring out at the ocean and listening to the waves crash in and out.

76. What do you allocate a lot of your hours towards? Watching YouTube videos and checking my social medias.

77. Last event you celebrated? 4th of July. Well, we just went out and watched fireworks from the driveway.

78. Last time you were compensated for something? I don’t recall.

79. Do you tend to make things complicated? Yepppp. :/  “Why you gotta go and make things so complicated?”

80. Do you find it hard to concentrate at times? Yes.

81. Have you ever had anything confiscated? No.

82. Last place you congregated at? I haven’t been around a large crowd of people since my Disneyland trip earlier this year. I won’t be again for a very long time given the current state of things.

83. How long are you with someone before you consummate the relationship? I’m a virgin.

84. Last time you had to conjugate a verb? I did that recently when I was helping my mom with her Duolingo Spanish lesson. It amazes me how much I still remember considering I haven’t taken a Spanish class or even really practiced it in almost 10 years. :O I mean, I’ll occasionally try and speak it or if I hear or see it somewhere I’ll try to translate it, but it’s not very often, so I’m surprised I’m still able to at all.

85. Last time you were constipated? I don’t recall.

86. How often do you contemplate life? Often.

87. Are you hard to cooperate with? No, I don’t think so.

88. Do you know anyone who cultivates land? No.

89. Would you want to be cremated? Yes.

90. Do you have any issues with your prostate? I don’t have a prostate. 

91. Have you ever decimated someone’s character before? No.

92. Do you decorate your home for the holidays? Yesss. Well, for Christmas. I used to for Halloween, but I haven’t the past few years. I should do that this year.

93. Who would you dedicate a book you wrote to? My mom.

94. Are you good at delegating group projects? I felt like I always had to take lead in group projects and make sure everything was getting done. I hated doing them, they stressed me out even more.

95. Do you know how to demonstrate things in order to show someone how to do something? I do feel like I suck at trying to explain things to others for the most part, but I guess it depends on the thing. 

96. In what ways do you deviate from “the norm”? I’m soon to be 31 years old and I still live at home with my parents, with no plans to move out anytime soon. I don’t have a job. I don’t have much, basically none, relationship experience. I’m a virgin. I’m just not a functioning adult.

97. How long after you take a painkiller does the pain start to dissipate? It typically takes about 30 minutes, but on really bad pain/flare up days it can take an hour or so and sometimes not until I have the next dose.

98. Do you feel the need to dominate in conversations? Nooo. I’m much more of a listener and I’ll throw the convo back to the other person.

99. Would you ever domesticate a wild animal? Why or why not? No.

100. Who is the last person you congratulated? For what? I don’t remember.

101. Would you like to decapitate anyone? Who, and why? Uh, no!

102. Do you ever think that you could duplicate something you’ve tried before?   Uhh, like what?

103. What do you feel you could educate others about? I don’t know. Remember before how I said I suck at explaining things to others?

104. What elevates your stress level? My heath, my life (including things related to my loved ones in my life, such as their health issues and things they’re dealing with/going through), and just...life in general, man. There’s a lot going on this year alone.

105. Do you have a tendency to make situations escalate? In my mind cause I jump to the worst conclusions. My natural reaction is to freak out.

106.  How good are you at estimating? Uhh, depends what I’m estimating.

107. Do you fabricate your stories? No. 

108. What is something that fascinates you? Psychology.

109. How long does it take you to formulate a game plan? Hmm. Depends.

110. What tends to make your blood pressure fluctuate? Stress and anxiety.

111. How do you generate enough energy to get through your day? What energy? I’m seriously lacking.

112. When did you graduate? I graduated UC back in 2015.

113. When you’re in a department store, which section do you gravitate towards most often? The clothes.

114. How often do you hesitate before doing or saying something? Often.

115. Do you ever wish that you could just hibernate? Yes.

116. Does anyone try to imitate you? Does it get on your nerves? No, but that would most definitely get on my nerves.

117. Do you like to instigate others? Nooo. I’m not an instigator.

118. Could you illustrate a children’s book? I couldn’t illustrate anything, I’m an artist at all.

119. Do you marinate your meats? I don’t cook.

120. Do you masturbate? No. What a way to end, ha.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 8

Happy birthday, Tephi! Sorry I was gone for a bit guys, work was kicking my butt for a while there. But we’re out of holiday season, and it looks like we may actually get another full-timer on my team! Anyways, where did we leave off again? Ah. Right. The whole “Stones are Soul Gems” thing. Guh. And Ed’s off exploring an “abandoned” lab, while some psycho with a knife is attacking Al.

Episode 08: “The Fifth Laboratory” Al looks up as the rooftop psycho (captioned as [66]) completely ruins the element of surprise with a battlecry. Well, given his heavy armor and the fanged skull-helmet, guessing that subtlety isn’t one of Mr. 66’s strong suits. Al jumps back and avoids the wild swings of 66’s machetes, to which the pfffahahaha ok hold up. I’m sorry, but he’s just so… pudgy! This 66 dude is a marshmallow, perfect example of acrofatic with the rooftop leap. Anyways, Pudgy compliments Al’s speed for someone of his size. Then follows the compliment by saying a lesser fighter wouldn’t be worth the effort to cut down. Right, masked psycho. Can’t let his adorable fluffiness distract me. 66 explains that he got the name from “them” when he came to work at the lab, and that he’s going to cut Al up nice and neat. So just sit back and scream, m’kay? Yeah, good luck with that, buddy. Inside Ed’s looking at a large Transmutation Circle in an open room, with a small pillar in the center. Said TC looks rather simple compared to the ones we’ve seen so far, is that really all that’s needed to make a Stone? Well, the TC and the noticeable red stains spaced around the five points. Ed makes the same assumption I did, and another voice confirms his suspicion. Said voice is a rather refined-sounding 48, another armored dude with glowing red eyes (like the Goths?) who says he’s in charge of guarding the lab from curious brats. Bit more back-and-forth between the two before Ed makes an arm blade, 48 (nickname Pompous) notes that he’s an Alchemist and WHOA he’s right in front of Ed already. Threat estimation just went way up. Yikes, and he’s already deduced that Ed has an automail arm. Pompous is proving to be pretty good. But Ed gets a stab in and- *clank*? Oh. OH. Wait a minute. He’s hollow? Like Al? But that implies… Ok, video’s paused for a moment. Getting some seriously bad implications here. We know souls can be bound to armor, our boy Al’s liv- well, existing proof of that. And if a non-certified child performing amateur Alchemy can do that, who’s to say a bunch of immoral scientists can’t? Take a lab designed to turn death into a power source, and siphon off a couple of the condemned to make immortal, nigh-impervious to harm guards for your sick manufacturing process. And why stop at just a few guards? Build up a friggin army of the things! Who’s gonna stop you? The genocidal government? You’re either working for them or you are them! Oh Leto, this is gonna end up with our boys having to face down armies of pseudo-Als, isn’t it? Cripes. Back to the fight, really really hoping that my theory is wrong. Buuuut nope, Ed confirms that’s the sound he hears when sparring with Al. Pompous reintroduces himself as the guy numbered 48 on death row, more commonly known as Slicer. Mass murderer, y’know. Pompous doesn’t confirm that the place was used to make Philosopher’s Stones, it not being “his area”, but he does reveal his Seal in his helmet, helpfully notes that if Ed destroys it, then the fight is Ed’s. Awfully considerate, although he says that he likes a challenge now and then. And he won’t just let Ed walk away, it’d totally ruin his mass-murderer rep. On to the fight! ...Hughes, you’d better have a good reason to interrupt the fight between our Protagonist and the Soul-Bound Mass Murderer. Yes, it’s adorable how happy you are that your daughter’s about to turn 3, but there are things going on! Roy agrees with me. Stop using a military line on military time to gush over your family! Hughes finally returns to more pressing matters, namely a certain scar-faced Ishvalan. They found bodies at the destroyed bridge, but they’re all so decomposed that they can’t be identified. Hold up, regardless of the fact that he’s clearly alive still, what do you mean by bodies? As in multiple? I count nine sheets there, where did they all come from? And why decomposed? The fight wasn’t that long ago. Although there’s no concrete evidence he’s dead, lack of sightings means Command thinks that he’s dead. So it should be ok to remove the Elric Brother’s guards soon. Said unfortunate guards have just found the empty room where their charges are supposed to be. [Brosh]: “Ah! Major Armstrong’s gonna take his shirt off again and yell at us some more, isn’t he?!” While Brosh sobs, Ross takes charge and orders him to follow to the only place they could have gone. To the Fifth Laboratory! Lots of yelling and grunting as Pompous and Ed swing at each other. But there’s a shift in gears? Ooooh crud. Ed’s arm is breaking, the increase in chrome and resulting weakness means it’s not holding up as well. Sure, it won’t rust as easily, but he’ll be too dead to enjoy that. Fight’s taken a shift in Pompous’ favor, where before they were equally matched now the Soul-Armor’s just standing, blocking while barely moving and then kicking Ed away. Pompous is all sad that Ed won’t last much longer, tired and wounded as he is. Not to mention that his partner’s likely finished with Ed’s companion outside. After all, 66 is quite strong. But not as strong as Pompous, of course. Ed finds this quite funny. See, he and Al have been sparring partners for quite some time. And to this day, he’s never beaten his little brother. Cut to outside, where Pudgy is getting his skullface handed to him. Or rather, knocked clean off. No sign of his Seal, though. Pudgy offers to share his story with Al, all starting with a man named Barry. Barry appears to be a butcher, given the artwork of a guy with a cleaver surrounded by meat. Barry the Butcher did so love cutting up meat into tiny little pieces. Until one day that wasn’t enough anymore, and he took his cleaver to the streets. 23 victims later, Barry was sent to the gallows. But then some dumbass decided that such a man would do just fine as an unpaid nightguard. Anyways, that was the story of the infamous serial killer Barry the Chopper! [Al]: “Sorry, I’ve never heard of you.” Barry/Pudgy does not take Al’s lack of local history well. Nor his lack of surprise to the whole “bodiless armor” thing. And then he’s surprised when Al calmly pops his own helmet off. Really, dude? The glowing red eyes didn’t clue you in? Heh. Oh man, poor Pudgy. You have no idea who you’re messing with. Wait. Why are you laughing? Oh. You DICK. [66]: “Are you sure that you’re not a puppet created and controlled by your so-called brother? Were you ever a real person to begin with?” Nope. Nope nope nope. Shut up. You do not get to ask those questions. You do not get to imply that Al wasn’t a real boy. That his memories were created to make him easier to control. That dear sweet Granny and Winry are just playing along to manipulate a “living” weapon. I was looking forward to seeing our boys take you down, murderer. Now I’m looking forward to them doing it slowly. Leto. First Soul Gems, now the whole issue of sapience and continuation of consciousness? This show’s not pulling any punches, is it? Um, cop? You may wanna well ok he’s dead. “I kill, therefore I am. As long as I know that, it’s all I need to prove to myself that I’ve always been me.” Back inside, Pompous is saying that he’ll finish off Ed quickly to go and fight the better fighter. Alright Ed, what’s your plan? Good plan! And shame on you, Pompous. You talked a big talk, but you really fell for the old “look behind you” trick. [48]: “That was dirty!” [Ed]: “There’s no such thing as ‘dirty’ in a fight. Before he destroys the seal, Ed stops to pick up Pompous’ helmet and demands what he knows about the Philosopher’s Stone. And just leaves the main body of Pompous behind him. Really, Ed? You’ve lived with Al for how many years? Seen his head get knocked off yet he still moves just fine how many times? Shame on you. Wait, what? “Impossible?” Why? You clearly saw the seal on the neck, right? Ooooh. “Slicer” was a pair of brothers? Independent head and body? So Ed was shown a seal inside the helmet, not the one lower down on the armor proper. And now he’s really injured, Armor-Slicer’s not giving him time to transmute (point for having the seal already on some gear, rather than using your hands each time). Ouch, jab to the cut and Ed’s down. Memory of Scar? OOOOOOOHHHHHH! Ed figured out Scar’s Hand o’ Doom! Armor-Slicer done got blown in half! And then freaks Ed out by wriggling. Ha! Pompous takes the defeat in fairly-good grace, calls for Ed to deal the finishing blow. But Ed’s not going to commit murder. [48]: “With bodies like these are we really even people?” [Ed]: “I consider you people whether you have physical bodies or not… If I didn’t, that would mean I didn’t believe my own brother is a person either.” Outside Pudgy continues to prey on Al’s doubts, goes so far as to dare him to break his own Blood Seal. Obviously Al won’t do such a stupid thing, but it’s because we know that he’s alive, not because he’s “programmed” to protect it. Guh, the sooner Pudgy bites it the better. Ed continues to insist that he won’t kill another person. Which amuses Pompous? Wow. Pompous remarks that it’s ironic, saying it wasn’t until they were Soul Bound that he and his brother were treated like humans. For that kindness, he’ll tell Ed everything. Awesome, we’re getting- aw crap. I know that dress. Ladies and gentlemen. Lust is on the scene. And she does not like helmets with loose lids. And Envy, as well. This is bad, isn’t it? Al, you may wanna get in and rescue your brother sooner rather than later. Jeez, hope Soul-Bound Armors don’t feel pain. Or at least it was quick for Pompous, getting split in two like that. WELL OK THEN. Guess that answers the question “Do Soul Armors feel pain?”. Envy’s taken up the sword and is repeatedly stabbing the Armor-Slicer’s seal, ranting about how their attacking the important sacrifice could have messed up the entire plan. Finally, the armor stops moving. Ed slowly slides up the wall to get to his feet, facing down Lust and Envy and demanding to know who they are. Uh, Ed? I know that you don’t know these people, that you aren’t aware that they seem to have hurt Scar enough - you know, that guy who utterly wrecked you and Al? - to send him into hiding. And that you’re pissed off enough to ignore your own physical state. But maybe you think you could tone it down a notch? Not try to kick Envy and prepare to fight? Whelp. Ed’s arm just went kaput. Winry, as much as I respect you as a mechanic, gonna have to question the choice to go so heavy with chrome. Rust isn’t as bad as these “technical difficutlies.” And yup Envy-knee to the stomach, Ed’s down for the count. [Lust]: “Listen to me well, boy. Don’t ever forget this. Always remember that we allowed you to live.” And of course, since Ed was poking around the place, it’ll have to go. Lust orders Envy to blow it up. Hey, uh, Al? How you holding up? Aw, no. Al, please. Please don’t let Pudgy’s mindgames get to you. Don’t start thinking that what Ed was going to tell you last episode was that... Hooray, Ross and Brosh are here! Woefully ignorant of how useless bullets are against Pudgy, but still. Uh oh, building’s cracking. And Pudgy recognizes what that means, makes a speedy exit. Al cries out that Ed’s still inside. Well, it’s not like the Goths are going to let their “important sacrifice” die as they dispose of the evidence, right? Called it! Envy walks out of the dust with Ed slung over his shoulder, drops him off with Al and Ross while cheerfully saying they should take him to a hospital and keep a better eye on him. “He’s a precious resource.” And like that, he’s gone. As the lab crumbles, the prison next door is home to a bunch of yelling prisoners. And further inside, someone named Kimblee remarks that it’s lovely to hear a building exploding. Hey, it’s Smiley, from the flashback to the Ishvalan War. You know, the guy who was grinning during the genocide? Seems he’s in prison now. This is the guy that Mr. Freeze was trying to recruit in the first episode too, wasn’t it? And even as the lab crumbles, even as our characters rush to get Ed to a hospital… Al thinks about what Pudgy said. ...wait, that’s it? That’s the episode? Come on! How rude is it to leave poor Al doubting his own personhood?! Post-credits: Hughes is talking on a phone, remarking that things at Central are pretty hectic. All the senior Alchemists killed by Scar? Rumor is a certain Roy Mustang may get promoted to fill in the spaces. But getting advanced so young Roy’s bound to make enemies. He needs as many people on his side as possible. Like a wife! ...yeah, I’m with you, [Receptionist]. Hughes, please stop with the personal phone calls. [Narrator]: “Edward Elric cannot find the right words to say what he must. Meanwhile, young Alphonse is frightened by his brother’s continued silence. Where does the truth lie? This truth is waiting, hidden in the memories of a young girl. Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” Episode 09 - “Created Feelings” “The heart begins to waver because if fears what the truth may bring.” Hey, looks like we get to see Winry again! Almost makes up for Alphonse having to doubt his very existence! Man, I can’t wait to see Pudgy bite it!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 8

[lunaeclipse103]

Do what you gotta do

Merry Christmas friends! Here is the fanfic for my friend and exchange partner @tobethefairybest here are the links to my ao3 and ffnet accounts so you can read it there too! :D 

Ffnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/~lunaeclipse103 

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaEclipse103

Enjoy!

Why was it such a big deal that I had to do this mission? Cana thought to herself as she entered the main hall. I never do these sort of things unless it’s an s-class quest she pushed away those thoughts and joined the big clump of Mages and Wizards. 

“Welcome! People of Fiore,” A voice came from above, the magic council. As you may have heard from your guild masters there are some new villains to the area who are trying to overrun the magic council, according to the calculations we have about 48 hours to stop them before its too late. Damn 48 hours?!

“Too hopefully speed up the process we have partnered you all up”

Oh no

It took a few minutes to read out the partners and then it was Cana’s turn.

“And the last pair, Cana Alberona and Mest Gryder!”

Mest Gryder that name is familiar

“Cana? Remember me?” A deep masculine voice came from close by, she turned, Black spikey hair, shiny grey eyes and a sleeveless turtleneck wait a minute… 

“Mest? Its been a long time!”

“Yeah...heh its has, hasn’t it.”

He seems to have not forgotten what has happened with his family, the thing that drew our close friendship apart

Cana sighed and shook her head, well we are re-united now arent we? She held out her hand. Mest laughed and shook her hand, “Yeah I guess we are.” He blushed and smiled. 

“Now everyone,” The magic council spoke, “Each pair or a group will be assigned a direction where one of the Oration Sais is estimated to be stationed, unfortunately, we are unaware of who is stationed there you will know when you get there.” 

“Well that’s a bit nerve-racking,” Mest said rubbing the back of his neck looking at Cana. How does she look so calm? Doesn’t she realize this could be a really difficult challenge? 

“Mest and Cana you will be heading west towards the mountains,” Well at least that has a good area so we can hide or get away quickly. “Mest...Mest hello? Are you coming or not?” his thoughts were interrupted by Cana calling his name. “O-oh yeah sorry got lost in thought.”

~~Time Skip~~

“The mountains aren’t too far from here,” Cana said slight fear in her voice.

“I hope the person we are fighting isn’t too powerful, but I know if we work together we win!” Mest cheered trying to lighten her mood.

“Yeah sure,” The mountains were close in to view, “I don’t see anyone maybe I should get a closer look.” Pulling Cana back a little Mest went closer, “I don’t see anyone maybe we should walk a little fur-Ah! Mest was hit by some mysterious black magic. “Mest!” she ran closer towards him to see the damage, “This magic...It looks way too familiar,”

“Cana watch out!” she was shrouded in bright yellow lights when it disappeared she was standing behind a big boulder, the same black magic breaking one near her. “MIDNIGHT” she shouted. Midnight, one of the strongest of the group, you never know when he will strike next.

“Mest watch out! You have no way of knowing when he will strike!” Cana shouted. “Card magic Flamethrower!” dancing flames aimed towards her opponent only to miss by an inch. But how?!

“Stay back Cana you’ll only get hurt!”

Says you! You only have teleportation magic to keep you safe, we have to hit him somehow!”

Crap she’s right

“We have to find a way to distract him, do you think you can keep teleporting?” Cana said quietly but just enough so Mest could hear her.

“Yeah, are you sure you can handle him?” Cana nodded and stepped out from behind the boulder. That’s when it all happened. Like the plan, Mest was teleporting all over the place so Cana could at least get a hit. At first, it was going well since Mest kept dodging all of the attacks, but considering he was doing it so much, he was slowing down, and then...AH!

“Mest!” he was on the ground, extremely low on his magic power, “Mest its okay whats happened?” she said frantically looking at him checking for any wounds. Thankfully nothing serious. “C-Cana get out of here...run h-he’s too powerful for you to fight alone.” Tears started running down her cheeks the fear of something bad happening. “No i-I’m not leaving, not running, not going anywhere without you!” She shouted, the tears running down faster.

“Hey don’t worry, I’ll regain my power soon enough, I don’t want you to get hurt.” lifting up a weak shaking arm, he wiped the falling tears of her face with the pad of his thumb. 

“Me? You don’t want me getting hurt? look at you!”

“Cana…”

“I’ll kill him, even if I don’t have enough energy, I will kill him for what he has done to you.” 

Before Mest could say a word Cana ran off the rock and faced Midnight. “Hmph, you think you can kill me to save your little weak friend. Midnight’s voice was deep, heartless.”

“If that’s what I have to do to save him, then I will do it.” 

“Eager are we? I like this challenge.”

~~~

The more I hit him, the stronger he seems to get...Crap what do I do? Cana thought until another rockburst next to her bringing her back to reality. “Light Cana!” She heard Mest’s voice coming from above  Light? What does he mean by that? Wait… Fairy Glitter is a type of light magic and that is good against dark magic! She winked up at Mest, it may use up my magic power but its worth it. 

“What? Are you scared or something?” Midnight’s sinister grin made her shiver, she laughed and gave him a sinister grin of her own. Fairy Glitter! she shouted as thousands of yellow sparkles covered the whole area. She heard the deep, deafening scream behind the sheet of magic. When it disappeared it all went silent, Midnight once confident he would win was now laying on the cold rock floor unconscious.

“Wow, I never knew you had that much determination in you.” without replying Cana rushed over to him and gave him the sweetest hug he has ever received, I little shocked by her action but it was always welcome. “I’m s-so glad you’re okay.” She sobbed lightly into his shoulder. 

“Thank you Cana, I wouldn’t have done it without you, I need to return the favour next time,”

She laughed “No need, no let’s get you back and sorted out.”

#mest gryder #cana alberona #fairy tail #ft fanfiction #fanficton #fanfic #mest x cana

[stories-mostly]

Stark's Bug

Tony Stark x Son!reader

Let's all collectively ignore that I forgot about the entire first 15 min of the 2nd Iron man movie as a late birthday gift to me. Thx.

Words: 1525 (what a pretty number to look at)

Warnings: Canon typical violence, other than that none

Chapter 15

You are watching Happy and your dad box in the ring as you stood beside it copying their movements and fighting an invisible villain. Lots of stuff had happened recently but now that your dad was back, there was no reason to dwell on the latest happenings. Because: You had your own superhero costume!

It had been a weekend project with your dad after he caught you playing with his helmet on. He came up with the idea and you with some rough drafts of the design, then you worked together to give it the finishing touches. Creating your superhero costume all within a 48 hour time span.

There was a helmet in Iron man style but purple and blue colors which looked similar to Captain Magic's colour scheme and it was taken off and put on like a motorcycle helmet. There were strong glasses in the holes for your eyes which Jarvis was built into. They could simulate enemy's. Make them look like they're really there, so you can fight them.

You had a long Cape with dark purple on the outside and a softer blue on the inside, which was attached to your shoulder plates. They were attached to your chest Armour that reached down to your waist line and was made of a thin, breathable, sturdy fabric. You also had super special gauntlets, and boots that reached your knees. You loved your look and went by the name of "Captain Storm", after Captain Magic of course.

His superpowers are controlling the wind, time travel, and super strength. Captain Storm also has a super secret super power only to use in dire situations. Nobody knew that he can use the force! But soon he'll be found out by his arch nemesis Madman!

You had your fun playing pretend as the door opened and Pepper walked in. She was real busy recently so you were excited to see her.

"Pepper!" You shout and run over into her arms.

"What? Who are you?" she gasped.

"Uh? I'm (y/-, I mean, I'm Captain Storm! I was protecting you of the evil lasers of Madman! You can only see them with my super special helmet! Thank me later!" You explained taking a superhero stance. You smiled up at her and went away to "fight" the evil Madman who was now targeting your family!

You didn't even realize there was a whole stranger in the room smiling at your antics.

As soon as your father left the ring the strange lady got in it and fought Happy while Tony and Pepper talked.

You watched in despair as she took down your uncle without a problem. How dare she? That was your uncle! And an ally of Captain Storm! She must be a villain! In truth you were very impressed though. Well (y/n) might've been impressed but Storm saw in her nothing but a potential threat! Maybe she was even a spy sent by Madman! He just couldn't trust her. Though he tried to copy her moves. They were really cool.

You snuck off into the side room and changes back into your "civilian clothes".

Walking back into the gym the woman and Happy were both out of the ring.

You wandered over and let yourself fall over your dad's lap.

"You're finally back, Bug." he said ruffling your hair after pulling you up into a sitting position. Instead of being sprawled over his legs like a lazy cat.

"What're you doing?" you asked both of them, as they seemed to be doing, well, things. You didn't really know what.

"Nothing big, just some paperwork." He paused handing back the papers to Pepper. "Bug, What do you think about going with Happy, Pepper and me to Monaco?" He asked after you faced him properly.

"A vacation?" you were confused, you had school. Also where IS Monaco? Your knowledge of European geography didnt go further than knowing a few names of countries and their estimated location.

"Yeah, more or less. I mean going to Monaco to attend the Grand prix? You know, Formula one? Cars racing each other." He made motions with his hands that were somehow related to race cars.

"Sure." You shrugged pulling up all the knowledge you possess about formula one. It wasn't a lot. You knew that your Stark industries was sponsoring or owned one of the teams and that they drove really weird and fast cars, but that was about it.

It was your first vacation in a long time so hopefully it would be fun.

Not long after your father had asked you whether or not you wanted to come you were in Monaco. More specifically in your hotel room.

You jumped around on the furniture in the large living room as your father was taking a shower. He had said to get ready but you could spare a bit of time for playing.

You let Captain Magic fly around the room after the Captain America figure Coulson had gifted you. Magic knew that Captain USA was an imposter since the real one is dead. So now she had to catch him and reveal his true identity. Though playtime was over as soon as the bedroom door opened and both Captains crashed into your father's chest.

You gasped, and then apologized while giggling.

"Your apology is accepted, now go get dressed you rascal." He said picking up both captains and shooing you back to the couch where your suit was waiting to be put on.

You were dressed in a few minutes, struggling a bit with the button up.

Your father tied your tie and voila you were all ready to go. Looking all fancy in your dress shirt and vest. A real charmer, as your dad put it.

You put on your sunglasses and left.

Arriving at the race track you were overwhelmed on how big it was. You couldn't even see it all together. They really had to drive a long way around Monaco. People cheered as your father got out of the car. He did his usual spiel, while you clamored at the track. You also gave a short wave to the people before you followed Pepper and your dad inside, Happy following behind you.

Inside you where slightly overwhelmed so you just stuck to your father's side. Natalie was also there doing stuff. You actually only found out her name on the flight here when you were back to playing pretend.

Somebody took a quick picture of the three of you while your dad didn't stop talking. You continued to follow him around like a lost puppy.

There was the Hammer guy that was also at your dads court hearing. You could feel that they hated each other. The four of you shortly sat down on a table before Natalie came and told Tony that the other table he wanted is ready.

Your dad stood up and Pepper took your hand having realized how lost you looked, leading you over. You sat down and fiddled with the middle button of your vest.

"Wheres Tony?" Pepper asked after you were both seated.

"On the Toilet." you said looking over to the TV where the preparations for the race were broadcasted.

"I think hes off the toilet now." you said as you saw your dad in full racing get up on the track.

"What? Oh my God." Pepper said and asked for Natalie to bring Happy.

Meanwhile you were ecstatic at the thought of your him racing.

The race began and you were basically bouncing in your seat. Not knowing whether your father was winning or not you still cheered him on internally.

You looked over at Pepper who still had a "I can't believe this" expression on her face.

Your attention was drawn a few minutes after the race had begun. There was a man on the track, just casually walking along. You knew something wasn't right even before he started to turn into a weird very villainy looking dude. You turned to Pepper only to see that she was gone. Now you were panicking. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself but nothing was working. Natalie placed her hand on your back comfortingly. It didn't calm you down at all but grounded you a little. Your father was on the screen getting attacked by some random guy, without his suit, and your main support system was currently gone! You had a feeling that they weren't away to search for safety either.

Tears were building in your eyes as the situation grew more and more concerning.

All you could do was stay there helplessly watching as your father avoided being fried by mere millimeters. You started to grind your teeth together when you saw the car you had come with ram the man into the side barely avoiding your dad. You flinched and bit your lower lip roughly.

There were several heart stopping moments before your dad could finally suit up. You'd like to say that he'd won with ease but it looked like it took a lot of effort to defeat the man.

Ultimately the man was dragged off by officers and the damage was done. You were relived that it was over.

You held onto him tightly as soon as he was within reach.

There was nothing to like about seeing your dad be in immediate danger and fighting for his life. Again.

Tags: @shannonr2003 @art-estrange @nicholasbich @tater-thottie @tonystanktheirondad @gaylemonshark @emilaa2001 @kindahadeschild

Thank you for reading :)

#tony stark x child!reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark x m!reader #male reader #male!reader #m!reader #marvel reader insert #child!reader #stark!reader #stark's bug #stark's bug chapter 15 #chapter 15