Agent Family (Worm Pre-Canon AU)(OC-SI)
By: Napalm222
Taking hints from Spy x Family but set in the gritty universe of Worm in 2009, years before…
Status: ongoing
Published: 2023-12-24
Updated: 2024-03-01
Words: 65175
Chapters: 13
Original source: https/forum./threads/25170
Exported with the assistance of
Agent Family (Worm Pre-Canon AU)(OC-SI)
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 1
Taking hints from Spy x Family but set in the gritty universe of Worm in 2009, years before canon.
This story follows William McBride, a PRT agent who suffered at the hands of Leet's infamous tech and was enhanced. His past life or maybe future, memories awakened and he tries to prevent the world from ending in five years, the only problem is that the world doesn't align with his memories. Annette is alive and Danny is dead. Unheard of capes are around and agents aren't the useless punching bags they were in canon. Just being who Will is means he can't rely on Taylor killing Scion on her own, so she needs training and who better for it than a PRT agent?
The problem? Will can't rightly approach and train a thirteen year old.
The solution? Well, Annette is recently widowed.
The complication? Will isn't holding all the cards and Annette has her own objectives.
Beta'd by Grimtide
Chapter 1
(William McBride)
"The Conqueror is back!" Tod Barkman praised, a bit of a muscle head that loves to fight with short black hair and clean shaven. At six two, he shouldered standard armor with ease and trusted to takedown any baseline. He wore nothing but tight boxers and a tank top. The scars earned from his enlistment were more a bag of honor than something to hide, regardless of how disfiguring they appear. Yearly rotation of expert medical staff and capes kept everyone in top condition.
Slap. Tod bowed forward after a hand firmly cuffed him on the back of his head.
"I've already fooken told you he's going to make some woman a fine bride!" Jerry Stewart said, brown cropped curly hair topped his head and the longest regulation length beard covered his face, not long enough to impede gas masks, but enough to obscure his skin. Unlike Tod, Jerry kept his muscles hidden under a thick layer of padding, weighing close to me, but five inches shorter. Just another layer for his heavy armor, one that saw more use than comfortable.
The rest of the five person squad broke out laughing, filtering in and giving me a pat on the back. Far different from how they treated me before the incident months ago, just weeks on the squad when it happened. Five agents and one squad leader, discounting me, Tod, Jerry, and the squad leader, that left…
Dave Martin. "I'd say, he's prettier than all the women too, sorry Hunny," The resident equal opportunity horn-ball. I had to shoot him down too many times, just because I was prettier than all the women on base didn't mean I received. Slicked back blond hair and baby butts smooth face, he was lean with wiry muscles, claiming standard armor while being the shortest one in the squad at five-five. Somehow pristine under his clothes even after a year on this job. He had the luck of the devil.
And Miss Butch, it's what she asked to be called instead of Elizabeth Swan. "It's fucking unfair is what it is… call me hunny one more fucking time and I shoving my boot up your ass." She gave it as good as she could to keep up with the rest of the squad, earning everyone's respect in a generally male dominated role. Standing in at five eleven, what was referred to as a roided up body against all evidence to the contrary, with cropped inch-long brown hair. It'd be rude to mention her breasts, but they equaled her pecs, giving quite the prominent look. One would think she was a clear cut lesbian if you didn't see how all the beanpole office workers vacated the area when she prowled around.
"Promise, Hunny?" Yeah, no guess who that was.
Liz, because I was never calling her Miss Butch-I think that was a kink thing-squared up on Dave and he just grinned at her. "I'll fucking show a manlet like you."
Sergeant Henry slid between the bickering duo, breaking up the pending fight without speaking a word. Older, with graying military cropped hair, a leftover from the previous generation having joined the PRT after most of the armed forces disbanded with the rise of Parahumans. Nothing overtly special about him besides a casual air of respect, reinforced by his long-held position of squad leader. He held out his hand to me, which I took, giving it a good squeeze and shake. "It's good to see you back in action, Agent McBride."
"It's good to be back, Sir," I said, meaning that this was a great distraction after what happened.
Suffering a full-body breakdown and rebuild at the cold hands of tinkertech left painful memories. Following the month-long coma didn't bring any relief when waking memories from a different life from another of me. Or should I consider this my second life? Whatever the situation I found myself in didn't change the result. I, William McBride, found myself in Worm as a PRT agent.
A full forty pounds of armor hung off my body, combined with a twenty-pound shield, a pistol, a rifle-both loaded with low fps rubber bullets, two dummy foam grenades, and a large assortment of accessories on my belt, I joined the rest of my squad for training.
Now, this amount of equipment went beyond feasible for the average man, hence the different levels of protection offered to those that could handle the stress, but against capes, regular humans needed every bit of protection available. Past me learned the hard way against Hookwolf doing his usual crimes against humanity. A blade cleaved through my helmet, almost splitting my face in two. The reminder greeted me every time I faced myself in a mirror.
Usually, squads had one heavy and five standard. Ours balanced a bit differently, at two heavies and four standards but with a far heavier load-out. We were the anvil to the Protectorate sledgehammer, meant to contain the meanest threats while the capes handled business. The first to enter and the last to leave. Casualties weren't just expected, but guaranteed, but with it came hefty danger pay, world class medical treatment, and the best training the PRT could afford.
Even what I wore today paled compared to what I would bring to the worst fights. This squad was there when Lung took on the PRT. It was also why I joined. The person I replaced turned into nothing but ash.
Heaven to old me.
… And yet I bounced in place, waiting for the coming fight. So maybe I turned into an adrenaline junky too.
I glanced around the wide open room, watching assorted barricades rise from the floor. Almost like a paintball or airsoft field. Returning my focus to the squad and Sergeant.
"Alright 42, we got training duty this week to get McBride back into shape after his two-month vacation. Battery and Piggot signed off on a full course against the wards and maybe some of the big, bad Protectorate capes. Today, we're facing the wards. Questions?"
"ROE?" Jerry asked. Rules of engagement I filled in.
"Triumph, the one with the lion's head, and Aegis, red full suit, is full contact. Disable through foam or brute shackles. Gallant, armored power suit, foam or mock EMP. Clockblocker, white suit with clocks, standard baseline, no debilitating strikes. ROE is taking them alive, no maiming or permanent injuries, but all you fucks should know that by now," Henry spat out. "You'll got your gear?"
I nodded along with my squad mates, all with helmets under our arms.
"McBride, Swan-" "Fuck you, I'm Butch!" "You're on brute duty. Focus on restraining Triumph and Aegis. Stewart, Barkman, defense, keep the movers away. Martin and I will bag'em as they come. You copy?"
"Ay!" I slammed my helmet back on and initiated the comm system, linking with my squad. My breath echoing in the fully enclosed environment. This always annoyed me, but better than otherwise.
Liz went right behind me, grabbing hold of the small handle on the back of my armored chest and gave it a tug. "You and me, you big fuck. Keep'em off me and I'll get them all foamed up."
"You got the shackles?" I asked, well aware that wasn't my job and only carried the small zip ties for baseline.
"Yeah, damn shame they won't let me use my projector. Just hose'm down."
"Can't be too hard on them, they're wards. Don't want to hurt their pride." I joked, but that was actually the reason. A seasoned Agent team could and would roll over wards unless they had an insta-win that took another cape to counter. Luck or unlucky, depending on who was asking, the wards lacked any such capability. Maybe if they included the baby, but no way in hell was I going to beat down an eleven-year-old girl. Vista hasn't been in the wards for two months, so I should be good for a while.
To the right, Jerry hunkered down with Tod at his back, mirroring my and Liz's positioning. Heavy riot shield up front and ready to take hits. Rated for standard fifty cal or armor piercing 7.62, not that it wouldn't hurt like a bitch getting shot by those regardless of penetration.
The barricades formed rough housing blocks with an empty street down the center. The houses rose ten of the twenty feet to the ceiling, giving the single flier a huge advantage. Unlike the rest of the team, I knew Gallant wasn't a tinker, but a master able to shoot emotional concussive blasts.
My new brain put my old to shame. I compared the difference to upgrading a ten-year-old computer to the top of the line. The difference staggered me at times, but also didn't make as huge of a difference as expected. To a point, I came up with the same answers, just in a shorter time frame unless the problem involved advanced concepts which relate to RAM. My old one just lacked the capacity to encompass some concepts.
So when I viewed the course and considered who we were facing, I saw their probable strategy unfold. Triumph and Gallant became the distraction, aiming to separate our squad. Aegis would flank us carrying Clockblocker and the two of them would pick off the separated members by freezing them, allowing Aegis to incapacitate with rope or different means.
The largest threat with how his power could take me out with just a touch was Clockblocker. The same was true for the rest of my squad, so there wasn't any benefit in me focusing him down. That left Gallant and Triumph as my preferred opponents. Take them down and the squads left to deal with Clockblocker. Aegis was not a threat, not to us, in his teenage body. Maybe once he was a full-fledged adult, but that was a few years down the line.
A warning light flashed on the ceiling, and I slammed my shield on the ground and hefted it up. I drew my pistol, resting it on the edge of my shield on the built-in stabilizer. Jerry mirrored me and we took quick, but short, steps out into the open. Jerry and I scanned the front while our seconds watched the flanks and sky, leaving Henry and Martin to watch the rear.
The corner building to the right, off the ground. "Movement, ten o'clock, airborne." I spoke into the short relay comm system.
"Continue." Henry ordered. "Butch, eyes on."
"Eyes on my ass."
"Don't mind if I do."
"Butch, Martin, cut it."
"Yes, sir."
I rolled my eyes. They weren't taking this seriously, as no maimings or death were on the line, and that meant this was a cakewalk. I think walking through the hell of capes so often warped their brains. The things we've seen…
A blast of blue light erupted from the left. Jerry slammed his shield into the ground and pressed his shoulder tight, taking the hit straight on, and his posture visibly slumped. Predicting this play, I turned to my left, ignoring that pair and reading myself for the coming roar.
"Gallant, 2 O'clock!" Tod called out.
Triumph peeked out in his golden lion suit.
"Brace," I said and Liz pressed herself against my back, giving me added leverage.
A wall of sound rammed into my shield and even seven hundred pounds of agents couldn't hold,
Gun shots went off to the right.
Calls about being flanked.
I focused on my target. Triumph. My arm throbbed after the first hit, but I shouldered the shield and Liz, showing off her veteran status, immediately broke left while I advanced. With how he peeked to attack, he left himself vulnerable. It would only take a few steps before she left his FOV (field of view).
Being the larger threat, both in size and time-wise, Triumph focused on me. I bring up my pistol and fire three shoots, unaimed. The first pings off his chest before he ducked behind cover, letting the last two to fly by hitting nothing, yet it gave me the opportunity to holster my pistol and withdraw a grenade.
But just because he ducked behind cover, didn't mean I lost sight of him, carefully tracking his shadow. He stood one step away from the edge and I primed the fake-foam grenade, mentally tallying the perfect delay as I approached, waiting for Liz to pounce.
"Flanking," Liz said among the chatter from the split squad. With her proprietary for using foam on everyone and anything, I expected her to throw a grenade, one that most should be able to react to before exploding.
I released the trigger, watching Triumph's shadow spin, and his yell of shock alerted me to everything I needed to know. One more second and I rolled the grenade toward the corner. He jumped away from Liz right as my grenade rolled between his legs.
Bright green foam splattered his leg and lower torso armor, expanding slightly.
Liz's followed and the shock of my grenade going off halted his retreat still within range of hers, even though the lack of foam on his upper body allowed him to remain a threat, the fresh splatter covered his front, including his mask, removing him from the board.
"Fuck!" Triumph punched the white wall flecked with green foam.
"Triumph down," I reported, spinning around and letting Liz handle the disabled cape. Jerry and Tod kept Gallant at bay and slowly pinned the ward down… worse if the radio chatter I heard was right.
A lesson for Gallant, emotional manipulation could backfire. All PRT agents had seen and been through shit. Blasting an agent with apathy was just as likely to turn them raging as subdue them. Jerry didn't go down, leaving Tod to wrangle the raging heavy. There weren't many masters in Brockton and made excellent lessons for both.
"Liz, support Tod. I'm taking Aegis."
"Wilco."
Henry and Martin performed a fighting retreat away from the harassing Aegis while Clockblocker ran from cover to cover, encroaching upon the duo. As Aegis's power gave him redundant physiology, taking him out was a matter of locking down, not damage on target, but this ran into the problem most agents faced when against a mover, they outmaneuvered us.
Aegis swooped in, laying out a few hits before flying away, none the worse for wear, while whittling the agents down. Once the duo faltered, Clockblocker would go in for the freeze.
Taking in the situation, I dropped my shield, lightening my load before breaking out into a sprint, hugging the barricades and aiming for Clockblocker. Technically, if I wanted to tap him out, I would try to flank, but that wasn't the goal. I wanted to be spotted.
Halfway, Aegis spotted me, shifting his harassing campaign to intercept me, swinging down to interpose himself. And he showed off his inexperience by flying straight in, fists aiming for my chest. I sidestepped his charge, spinning to my left with the barricade to my right. Right hand caught his left, my spin allowed me to shift my inertia into a single grab slash redirect where my left hand applied everything into Aegis' head, smashing him into the barricade face first. A splatter of blood erupted from his crushed nose. If he wasn't a brute, that would've killed him.
I wrenched his left arm up behind his back, grabbing his right while he was in a daze and putting him into an arm lock to give myself enough time to pull my last grenade. Flip and switch, I shifted the timer to a single second and pressed down on the trigger. The wonders of containment foam, it had offensive and defensive uses. Sometimes, when faced with overwhelming odds, it was better to foam yourself.
Aegis stopped resisting when I placed the primed grenade next to his head. If he broke free, we would both get foamed.
"Good try, kid."
I lean back in the miniature chair, a towel wrapped around my neck and fresh out of the shower. The rest of the squad matched my lack of attire, skimping around in underwear. Sergeant was the only one wearing regulation clothes at this point, standing up in front of the five of us.
"Good work. We beat down on four kids. Glad to see you didn't rust, McBride, but now it's time to go over what we could've done better. We're starting with you, Stewart."
Jerry growled, the most beat up of all of us, and it wasn't from the wards. "Fuck emotional manipulation."
Everyone sneered. Masters and Strangers were the boogeyman of agents. Almost everyone would take the chance to put them down for good if provided.
"Work on your control. We don't have the luxury of blaming others for our actions unless it's total mastery. You kill someone in your rage, you're going to jail. Twice a week you'll meet with Gallant and go through extended trials… all of you will. Next?"
Liz rolled her head, uncrossing her arms. "I should've waited until our friendly giant scared Triumph back into cover. Gave him too much warning."
Henry nodded. "I should've taken one for the team and let Martin take out Clockblocker. Squishy he may be, but that time freezing power makes him difficult to handle without foam projectors."
Martian made a noise of agreement.
"Barkman?"
"Fuck, man. If I had real foam, I would've dropped one on Jerry. Wrestling him is like taking on a sumo wrestler." He paused, glancing around the room before landing on me. "Fuuuuuuck, should've gotten the jolly red giant to switch."
"And I should've gone after Jerry instead of taking down Aegis." I finished off the fuck ups, but paused, thinking back on my engagement against Triumph. "I should've dodged the first attack. There was no knowing if I could've taken the blast."
"Now onto the good shit," Henry changed topics. "At almost even odds, we came out on top, even if it was against the kiddies. Butch, great flanking. Barkman, good on you managing Gallant and Stewart. Martin… ," Henry coughed into his hand.
"Hey!" Dave shouted and got promptly ignored.
"Stewart, it's better to stay mobile than collapse, hone that, and we know who to trust. Master effects are no joke and you pushed on."
Jerry nodded, still scowling.
"And our newest member straight back from vacation, McBride. Brutal and efficient. Careful about pulling those maneuvers, even against brutes. Got an earful from Battery about banging up her ward."
William McBride
Role: Field Agent, A1
Experience: 1 year.
Security Clearance: Level C
Disposition: PRT
Location: DEPT 24 (Brockton Bay) ENE
Age: 25 Status: Full time
Height: 6'5" Weight: 280 lbs
Appearance: Highly attractive, bright red hair, large frame, extremely muscular. A single large scar goes from the brow on the left side of his face, down over his eye, missing his nose before splitting his chin and lips.
General:
A Boston native, William joined the PRT bootcamp straight out of highschool, passing with flying colors two years later. He then progressed down all available courses, leadership, marksmen, hand-to-hand, field medic, parahuman study, and legal. Testing in the top percentage of both physical and mental capabilities, he was well sought after by numerous PRT departments, but chose ENE.
Earmarked for quick advancement once he has gained more field experience.
During a field op gone wrong, William suffered unknown tinkertech effects at the hand of Leet, a local free/chaos tinker. A month-long coma followed.
Personality:
Dedicated to an unreasonable degree, William's life revolves around being a PRT agent. He has had no outside relationships or friends. All free time is spent improving himself or his skills. This has noticeably left a gap of comradery between him and the assorted squads he joined, until he saved the squad leader of the newly joined squad 42, Henry, from the unknown tinkertech, suffering himself. This bought the loyalty of his team, even in his coma.
It should be noted that if an assignment is assigned to Willian, he will go above and beyond to accomplish the task, regardless of cost. This surfaced during an incident with Hookwolf, leaving him with a large scar crossing his face, but the arrest of the cape.
Anomalous body:
William, already at the peak of humanity, suffered heavy changes under the effects of unknown tinkertech. The interrogation of Leet sheds some light on what William experienced. Leet in hopes of improving his body enough to break his reliance on his tinkertech, built the pod to enhance himself to an unknown degree.
The pod exploded after finishing its work, and Leet's inability to create anything twice limits this effect to William. So far, all experiments and tests have shown that William has been firmly pushed into the realm of superhuman. Whether William's natural talent affected this or not ranked high enough on the threat scale to match lesser Parahumans. A debate followed before a new rule solidified all Parahuman-enhanced individuals as baseline and not capes, paving the path forward for enhanced Agents.
Last edited: Dec 24, 2023
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 2
AN: Beta'd by Grimtide
Chapter 2
Everything was fucked.Across the blank canvas of a wall, I plotted out everything I remembered from Worm with strings linking events with others, going all the way to the end with the fight against Scion. I awoke here on April 1st, still under observation. Rejoined my PRT squad on May 5th, and it was June 3rd, 2009 that I finally faced the future.
Either something happened to PRT agents between now and 2011, or this wasn't the exact Worm world I remembered. There was no way in hell that bank heist performed by the Undersider's would've happened with my squad around. Even going back through my memories, agents and capes worked hand in hand, even against villains. I knew how competent we were, edging on Spec-Ops mixed with SWAT.
This wasn't a game of cops and robbers. I've killed. Every single person on squad 42 has. The only people off limits were capes without a kill order. Once gangbangers brought out guns, proportionate response was right there in the hand booklet. I didn't agree with the order of importance and still didn't, but I now had foreknowledge of why.
Civilians - Capes - Agents - Gangbangers.
Hell, civilians would be only before gangbangers if it wouldn't set public opinion against us.
So technically, the plot could still go the way I remembered if I didn't exist. But I was a fucking person, and people do shit. I liked to think I was even a good person, and how could a good person sit back and watch the shit they could prevent?
If the plan involved holing up and pretending nothing existed, I might as well just kill myself, and I sure as hell wasn't doing that.
I scanned the hundreds of notes, thinking, planning. What was the key to living? Scion had to go, but was that necessary in a reasonable timeframe? He could wait a dozen, maybe a hundred years if not set off by Jack Slash. How much of humanity existed at that point relied on the Endbringers and Eidolon.
Yet, out of everything, what was the key pivotal point?
Case 53s and bullying Scion to death with QA, the queen administrator shard.
I'd rather never deal with Cauldron, and still not sure why I haven't vanished, left me with one route: Little Miss Godkiller herself. All it would take was one small change and the locker would never happen, maybe already written off, so what was I to do?
Before anything else, I needed more information.
Even with my unfair advantage, being six five with a head of flaming red hair made stalking annoying. The fact I'm using PRT training to hunt down and locate a teenage girl never failed to amuse me. Having a name, a school, a friend's name along with her parents made finding her easy, if I used my available resources, but that meant a trail.
What I did on my days off was my own damn business… that was if I didn't work for a country wide government agency set against super powered individuals. So they kept a tight grip on their employees, making Coil's… Calvert's infiltration and double life even more impressive.
No internet records, no electronic devices. Even my phone stayed in my apartment, winding around a preset track that would stop at my recliner. Everything I learned came from my own two eyes. I didn't even know where Winslow's district encompassed, and I didn't have a reason to go looking either.
So I spent two weeks' worth of nights, whenever I lacked a shift, walking across Brockton Bay and checking houses. I found the Barnes from their father, a lawyer, but no hint of the Heberts.
Another debilitated neighborhood. Amazingly, no one had called the cops on me yet, looking suspicious with my black hoodie and beanie, gotta hide away my flaming red hair. I slid into the bushes across the street, my eyes piercing the darkness and reading the mailbox. This was the last address.
I sighed, spotting a station wagon in the driveway. No truck like Danny should be driving. Another miss. I worked my jaw and pondered the single lit light within. Did I miss something?
No, I would check and then canvas all the houses I already visited. A quick glance and I ghosted across the road and down the short driveway. I peeked through the first-floor window, finding the kitchen light on, but no one was around. No one to jump to conclusions. Another check of the house had another light on the second floor, but at the back of the house.
I bit my lip, not finding an easy path to climb up to the window, but instead focused on a tree across the small backyard, pleading that the branches would support my weight.
What I saw next threw every single plan out the window.
A curly black-haired middle-aged woman. I didn't care what she was doing, more focused on the who, and kicked myself for never checking the public obituaries.
I think I could officially call myself a full-time stalker.
There wasn't a single thing I didn't know about Annette Hebert, a widower. Where she worked, her lack of friends, the places she visited, I even broke into her home and canvased the place. The picture inspired little hope.
History followed the path of least resistance, and Annette strutted right down the road to self-destruction. She would change how Taylor suffered, but I remained wholly convinced she would. I tracked income versus expenditure, how Annette stacked up against her fellow professors and saw the note from the facility about degrading class quality.
Annette Hebert nee Hansen
Age 40
English Professor at Brockton Bay University
Income: 42k
Yearly bills: 22k
Credit card debt: 10k, 800 a month
Car: 2006 Blue Honda sedan, license plate XXXXXXX
Hobbies: Reading, and recently paying visits to three different luxury bars while dressing in expensive dresses. She orders drinks while dolled up and leaves two hours later after 5-9 drinks and is visibly drunk for the drive home. When her daughter left for summer camp, she increased the frequency to five times a week. Unknown why. Tracked via CC reports.
Friends: Zoe Barnes, has been out of contact for five months. Others are possible, but no recent visits.
Notes: Going through menopause. Probable depression after the death of her husband. Spends most days off self-stimulating, sleeping, reading, or drunk. A preference for complicated tastes, avoiding high amounts of sugar or preservatives. Dark chocolate, dry wine, and straight liquor. Has made a large amount of book purchases recently.
Previous links to the disenfranchised Lustrum. More than likely to hold equal treatment between genders high in regard.
What a pathetic sight.
I threw out all my plans with this information coming to light. Queen Administrator, the shard connected to Taylor, was beyond important and would play a crucial role no matter what power she got or when.
There was no guarantee that Taylor would survive her initial forays into cape life. In this world, protagonist armor was a power and sure as shit, she didn't have it. That meant it was up to me to see her through the initial trials and prepare her for the future.
Annette turned into an obstacle, a major weak point for Taylor. What was I to do about her?
I checked myself in the mirror and adjusted the bowtie just a hair. God, I was a horrible person.
There was one certain way to gain access to Taylor and train her. It was through her hot mess of a mother. My stomach rolled, but I clamped down on the nausea. Needs must.
Plus, I'd try to leave Annette as a far more stable person who wasn't circling the drain of self-destruction, so it wasn't all bad as I kept telling myself. The age gap itself almost ensured any fake relationship I created would come apart in time. She was fifteen years older than me. I was closer in age to her daughter, as weird as that was to think.
Maybe I could add my double lives to the mix… but did living two different teenage years independent of another any more impactful? Other me was in his thirties, so I just shrugged. Whatever.
But my plan, my horrible plan, left me feeling like a sleazeball. And my mind kept twisting what I was doing in the most despicable way. Misleading and stringing on a mother to get access to her daughter. At least I had nothing but the most pure intentions besides training Taylor. I had the qualifications too, being a PRT agent with six years of special forces training under my belt.
My plan, right.
Seduce Annette, who was obviously going through some major hormonal changes. Become romantically involved. Meet Taylor. Train her. ???. Profit. Nothing could go wrong and there was plenty of flexibility available under the KISS (keep it simple stupid) principles.
Today was the day Annette visited the Scarlet Rose. Middle-higher class restaurant bar with a faint slant towards older women and lesbians . Still surprised the place hasn't burned down with the E88 in town.
I finished perfecting my tuxedo, a right pain in the ass to have tailored for myself, but considering the past me was a boring ass, I had more than enough money saved up for a quality suit. This had to go perfectly. There weren't any second chances, but I believed I knew enough about Annette to seduce her without too much trouble.
My SUV, I would've preferred a smaller, more low-key vehicle, but my size often made them impractical. I double checked if my holdout pistol was still in position and off I went, heading for the Boardwalk. Plus, now was the time to document my first interaction with her officially.
I strolled up to the bouncer disguised as a greeter with an amicable smile. The man tried to look intimidating, but I both outweighed him and outclassed him in the height department. That look shifted into scanning me from head to toe, nodding at whatever classification he worked under, and unbuckled the front gate.
"Pleasant evening, sir."
"Appreciated." A nod and a handshake with a twenty. No reason to get on the bouncer's bad side from the start. Cash always greased the wheels and shifted arguments in my favor.
He tipped his hat and blocked the way of the next entrant looking to sneak in.
I scanned the interior and ignored the hostess looking to seat me, and spotted my target sitting at the bar on her lonesome-a gap of a single chair on either side compared to the otherwise packed bar. A pitch-black dress adorned her, coming halfway down her thighs and matched the flowing locks of her hair. Based on my knowledge, she should've been here for ten minutes and be about two drinks in. "One for the bar." I acknowledged the woman and gave my answer in one.
The hostess nodded. "Right this way, sir."
"No need. I can make my way." I stepped around her, head held high with a quiet confidence.
Just as intended, she faulted for just a moment, enough for me to slip by. Eyes landed on me, but I met none, not even Annette, when she glanced over. Non-direct interest with easy ways of rejection, giving more control to my target for if I put too much pressure, it would ignite her held beliefs and put her on the defensive.
I took the spinning seat beside her, a step above a stool, never looking over. The bartender greeted me, ready for my order the moment I sat down. "Maple Old-fashioned, orange bitters and a twist. Rye Manhattan with chocolate bitters and a dash of Luxardo syrup." I had no clue what I just said, but my research and Annette's tastes collided to produce such an order.
She nodded, breaking away to produce my order.
From the side, Annette had yet to look away, sipping the last remnants of her martini, one leg crossed over the other. I kept my aloofness despite her attention.
Both drinks settled down on slick coasters. I took the Manhattan and slid it over to Annette. She hummed.
"I think tonight, I prefer old-fashioned." She slid back the Manhattan and exchanged it for the old-fashioned with long thin fingers. Not knobby, but svelte like the rest of her. Perfect. Both drinks matched her taste.
Now I acknowledged her, turning my head with a cocked eyebrow and examined her up close. Thin lipped but wide mouthed with a slightly deeper shade of lipstick, not colorful enough to stand out, but enough to enhance what she had. Her nose came to a sharp, sloped point, demure compared to her mouth and slightly off balancing. This led to her brown eyes, hidden behind a layer of glass, and once dull from my observations, now shined with life.
That was an invitation if I ever heard one, implying many things and one could guess it related to society's norms. With her past and this bar, she explicitly told me she was open to being hit on and pursued.
Yet something was off. Another scan of her face lacked many of the telltales of age. The slight crows feet and forming wrinkles from her staff pictures and family photos weren't present. If I didn't know who she was, I wouldn't be able to place her age between 25 and 40. Strange.
I hummed, one hand stroking my very short beard, the coarse hair scratching at my fingertips. "Old-fashioned, you say?" I turned toward her fully and offered my right hand palm up.
A soft smile crossed Annette with the softest pinking of her cheeks. She shifted away from using her right hand and placed her left hand in my grasp, clearly showcasing the lack of a wedding ring in one go.
I brought her hand up and kissed the back, my lips sealing against pale skin. She withdrew after a brief pause of hesitation. "William McBride, at your service."
"Annette Henson." Using her maiden name at that. "A pleasure to meet you."
And as expected from my research into her preference, she enjoyed a tamer, more roundabout flirtation. She kept a fair number of romance novels around her bed with scenes bookmarked. Half bodice rippers, and all encompassed a lonely widow being seduced by a younger man. I even formulated a plan of attack should I successfully seduce her, which acts she prefers to read. Plan A was a go.
Another smile, but this one aimed for a more roguish disposition. "If anything, it's my pleasure to meet one such as you."
Annette flicked her hair back from the right side of her face, exposing her neck and ear to me. Three gem encrusted piercings lined the outer cartilage. A coy smile with a smattering of blush. "Oh, do tell how meeting me is such a pleasure."
Ah, fishing for compliments, so she was out looking for reaffirmation of herself after losing her husband. "Ah, not so fast. I only kiss and tell."
She licked her lips, doing far more expressing than most with such a simple gesture. "A gentleman like yourself can only be so free with your words, but how they intrigue me." In other words, she's tempted by the offer.
"Value comes with rarity after-all, and I've never laid eyes on one such as yourself." I lied out of my ass. This seriously was pulling on all my knowledge and two lifetimes of experience, yet Annette, caught out of the blue, could keep up. Oh god, this was so cringy, but I had my information on what she liked and what I felt was irrelevant.
A flicker of something crossed Annette, and she reached up to push her glasses back in place. She lifted her old-fashioned and drank heavily, draining half in a go. "I find myself in need of company and pleasant company found me." She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, resting an elbow on the bar and her fist landing underneath her chin to support her head.
Did she really just say what I think she said?
For an agent always on the job, alcohol never enticed me, and knowing what to ask for took more research than I cared to admit. So I sipped my drink and internally cringed. That was disgusting. "Fate always tips the balance when you know where to look." I turned back to Annette and gazed into her eyes when I finished my line. Also, the truth with how I researched everything about her while stalking to this bar. No chance in sight.
Her sharp gaze turned half-lidded while uncrossing and recrossing her legs again. Teeth nibbled on her lower lip while a finger twirled black locks. I think I succeeded with my mission. If those weren't fuck me eyes, then I better hang up my hat and cut my losses.
Annette finished her drink in another sip, putting the glass down before taking mine and draining the mostly full drink in a single go. "I-I think I'd like to hear what you have to say." She stood up on shaky legs. Elegant described her posture until I reached her face, blushing bright red with her lips slightly parted.
I blinked, not expecting to be invited to leave with her not ten minutes after arriving. The bartender and I shrugged at each other. Then she whispered damn under her breath. I fished out my wallet and slipped two hundreds out, covering Annette's bill and mine a couple of times over with a hefty tip.
Old-fashioned was the way to go tonight, so I held out my arm for Annette to take and she cozied up, wrapping both of hers around and pressing her body tight. This was an actually enjoyable night, even if I felt a little sleazy and wasn't looking forward to what was to come.
This went far better than expected.
(Annette)
There was relief in knowing Annette wasn't insane, but that warred against what she was doing. She never respected hookup culture, much less participated, so going to a man's house ten minutes after laying eyes on him left a distinctly unpleasant taste.
Not to mention she was out here racking up far more debt than she could afford, directly worsening her and Taylor's future at once. The sudden cut in income from Danny's death left gaps larger than the despair of losing a loved one. An unpaid truck, totalled. A funeral. So much money removed from their lives in a failing city had her looking for any way to secure her family's future.
That was one thing, but then her body went straight into menopause from the stress, rubbing in her face her age. The finality of never having another child, always put off for the next year until over a decade passed. A dark future of loneliness once Taylor grew older and lived her own life.
Until one night, a month after Danny's death, confronted by the sheer helplessness she found herself in, she asked what she could do to make her family happy.
Books glowed in varied intensity.
Annette searched her collection, traipsed local bookstores, building a stack by her bed, ranging from the worst bodice rippers to superhero stories. From the selection, she scoured plot lines, chronicling scenes and building what her insanity pointed at. The plot to make her family happy slowly formed, abstract with no single passage fitting absolutely, but rather a generality of what she had to do.
Months of work and study led to her fluttering around assorted high-class bars. She didn't know which one it was, but she had a character to play. As distasteful as it would be, she wanted the best for Taylor and will do far worse for her.
A man, the very man she hung off of, young, handsome, with more money than sense. Plucked straight out of the worst romance books. Her, an old widow, looking for some energetic romance to fill the void in her life. Limbs and her mouth took on a life of their own, playing the part of her character even when she cringed at the lines they told each other, leaving just enough of her control to down a couple of drinks to soften the coming acts.
Annette sold her body for the good of her family. Against everything she ever stood for until there was only one option left for her, but there was a character to play and she would give it her all.
It also helped William stirred an undercurrent of excitement and daring within her. If only to help dampen the shame and guilt, she felt at betraying Danny so soon and going behind Taylor's back after sending her away. Partly to give Annette time to figure out what was happening, space to work without a depressed daughter moping around, and distance in case she was actually clinically insane.
Annette never gave up and if she could do something, for the good of her daughter, she would. She also secretly hoped that she only triggered, knowing something about the subject from the rumors passing around Lustrum when she was still a member.
Yet seeing the story she crafted come to life, gave her more options for the future. Being a professor exclusively didn't cut it, but she was a cape now.
They approached a large black SUV and Annette mentally prepared for where this evening would go.
(William)
I spared the pleasured Annette one glance, putting on as much of a show of satisfaction as I could before retreating into the bathroom. Some stretching out would do fine. Ugh, using her for my own goals left me feeling dirtier than rolling around in mud. A splash of cold water and some light claps on my cheeks to get me back in the game.
(Annette)
She kept the look of satisfaction until Will left for the bathroom after he did some stretches she fake appreciated and scowled once he left her sight. So, just because she enjoyed the acts, didn't mean she didn't feel like a horrible woman, using a young naïve man for the betterment of her family. A hand dipped between her legs, questioning the lack of certain fluids, but no matter, she was going to see this through. Somehow, she wasn't sore after a full hour.
A couple slaps to her cheeks turned them rosy again and settled back into her role.
(William)
An undercurrent of worry banged around in my head even while Annette snoozed tight against me, a lithe arm wrapped around my midsection, a finger running along my abs. For one, I kind of enjoyed the closeness of another person snuggled up against me with this body having gone years, over five, without being physically close to someone else. The second regarded a lack of emissions, not being able to get in the right mindset while using this vulnerable woman for my own ends. Just keeping it up proved to be more difficult than expected.
At the very least, she enjoyed it, so that should be enough and I just had to pray she wrote off my participation.
(Annette)
No one ever could say Annette lacked self-confidence, but even with playing a role for her own end, but William's lack of climax, however well he faked it, dealt a harsh blow upon her esteem. Even worse, this night played out like so many of those passages she earmarked-and she actually enjoyed it.
Annette had to do better next time. She was doing this for the sake of Taylor, and her older body wouldn't ruin the potential for a happy future!
She tried really hard not to enjoy the closeness of another body after almost a year of sleeping alone. It wasn't her fault those muscles were fun to trace!
Last edited: Dec 23, 2023
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 3
AN: Beta'd by Grimtide
Chapter 3
Quiet whimpers of hostages set the backdrop to arguing robbers. One extremely agitated, waving around his pistol instead of holding it to the hostage's head like it was minutes ago. The second remained collected and kept the cashier on her knees with a revolver pressed tight against the back of her skull.
This situation started a scant thirty minutes ago when police happened upon the robbery in progress before it rapidly deteriorated. Locked at a standstill with hostages at risk, the police would've called SWAT in if the service still existed. Instead, PRT agents respond to such situations. Today it was my squad.
"Eyes on suspect two, over." I said, peeking around a shelf covered in snacks, crouched low to hide myself.
Dave Martin joined me on this infiltration through the back entrance. Shorter, so he could sneak better than I, but I was the quickest of the group. The rest of the squad kept the suspects attention, with Butch taking my shield.
"Suspect one within reach, over." Dave said, a couple of shelves down from me.
"Operation is green should the opportunity present itself. Lethal is approved." The police Sergeant in charge of the negotiations announced. A little late, with my pistol loaded with less-than-lethal rounds.
I nodded to myself, mentally preparing for the worst. Normally this type of hostage situation earned a bit more attention and the way we approached felt cavalier, but this was the fifth this week and it was Tuesday. There just weren't enough resources to go around. "On my go, copy?"
"Roger."
The longer we spent hiding, the more likely we were to be spotted, and then everything would turn to shit. Foam wouldn't activate quick enough and shooting a person holding a gun was just as likely to set it off through involuntary muscle contractions as to save the hostage. Almost impossible to beat a finger on the trigger, which meant waiting until the gun pointed somewhere not immediately lethal.
Alright, suspect two held the revolver in his left hand with his right clamped down on the hostage's shoulder. If I attracted his attention to the left, the rotation of his head should be enough to clear her head. Should the gun go off, she might suffer some flash burns and hearing loss, but better than a new hole in her head.
"I'm telling you, we need to run!"
"There isn't a chance of getting away." Suspect two responded.
"Then just surrender! I ain't going to jail over murder! This was supposed to be quick! In and out!"
"Just another couple of minutes."
I narrowed my eyes. "Potential backup for the suspects a couple of minutes out, over."
"P-p-please, I-I-I have a daughter!"
Suspect two raised his revolver, intent on pistol whipping the hostage on the back of her head, but it was exactly what I needed. "Now!"
All of my enhanced strength launched two-hundred and eighty pounds of me plus another fifty of gear straight at the suspect. Seven feet to cross, while the suspect only had to move his arm back down a foot and pull the trigger. I leaned my shoulder down on my second step, catching the suspect in the ribcage, just under his armpit, and carried him the next few feet into the counter, smashing him between me and an immovable object. Ribs shattered under the impact.
I grabbed the arm holding the pistol and squeezed, forcing fingers closed and kept the appendage pointed toward the ceiling. A moment later, I plowed his face into the ground, ripping both arms behind his back where I snapped closed a set of handcuffs after prying free the revolver. What were a few broken fingers between agents?
A spared glance at Dave showed him handcuffing suspect one. No shots fired with both suspects alive-ish. A picture perfect operation.
I scrubbed down the outer layer of plastic of specks of blood from my tackle, using cleaning supplies tailor designed to not degrade the material. Low and simple maintenance fell on the agent issued the item. Unlike the military or police, I accounted for my weapons and ammo, always keeping them within a minute's reach should anything go wrong.
As the PRT learned the hard way, keeping all their weapons in armories turned into a critical weakness, but allowing agents unrestricted access to their weapons allowed masters easy forces to subvert. So it really depended on the department and the local threat level. Here at ENE, my squad and three others kept bio-locked weapons on them at all times in exchange for heavy internal tracking.
This spat of cleaning followed my mandatory mental checkup and lecture on appropriate force. A little on the nose when the overseer of the operation signed off on lethal force, but the PRT operated by the book. If the book said that any agent involved in a confrontation that resulted in severe injuries should get reviewed, they got reviewed. Of course, I was in and out in fifteen minutes and most of that time was the board marveling over the injuries I inflicted in seconds. Simply told to tone it down unless I wanted to kill someone.
I found the entire process mundane and boring.
Taking on common gun wielding criminals lacked a spark compared to capes. Not once during the operation, I felt afraid for my life. My heart remained steady, and I did my job. I never considered myself an adrenaline junky or put myself in life-threatening situations, but I craved that razor's edge. Knowing all that separated me from living and death was the skill I honed for years.
"I'm telling you, he's the Conqueror! That shit bag got conquered so hard Will left him groaning on the floor! That's like the tenth guy he sentenced to the hospital!"
I turned away, a little abashed over my violent streak. You know, if they didn't want to get their asses beat, they shouldn't be doing stupid shit. Not bad when we get called out once a day.
"Yeah, yeah, a little sadistic, but that's nothing compared to his looks! His true calling is a trophy husband. McBride! You can cook, right? Ever done the naked apron?" Jerry laughed to himself in his deep, rumbling voice.
"Are you sure you ain't gay? 'Cause that sounds like some shit I would say." Dave joined the conversation, much to my dismay. Spinning around on his workbench stool to face me. "So, have you ever done the naked apron?"
I rolled my eyes and ignored the bunch.
"Nah, what he needs is a proper woman. One that could dish it as hard as he serves it. Butch! You up for the big lug?" Jerry continued.
She scanned me. "Fuck no, he'd break me over his knee. I do the breaking."
"Can you give it a break? You've been arguing over this for a month." I said.
"No!" "No."
"Fuck you guys."
"I'm down."
I glared at Dave and flipped him the finger. "Seriously, what's up? I'm McBride, that's that, plus I'm Irish, not fucking English! Barkman, you fucking bark enough and Stewart, more stalwart than anything." While they never got to me, there was only so much I could listen to them argue about something so inane.
Tod and Jerry exchanged looks before throwing back their heads and laughing. "One month! Who had one month?" Tod asked.
Henry raised his hand off to the side.
"The winner of when will they snap! A night on the town on us!" Jerry said.
"Y'all suck," I said, shaking my head in exasperation.
Butch, on the station beside mine, patted my back. "They do it to every replacement. Dan lasted two days. Poor fuck died a week later."
"How long have you been on squad 42?" I asked, snapping apart my issued pistol and checking the internals even if I knew they were fine.
"Ah, three years. Jerry and Tod four, and Henry's been here forever. The spots you and Dave took are damn cursed, gone through a dozen agents each, but I got a good feeling about you."
"What about me?" Dave asked.
"What about you?"
"Fucking cold. Ouch."
I sighed, ignoring the two and their bickering, like oil and water, those two. My phone buzzed and debated answering the call or not. Technically, I wasn't supposed to answer personal calls while in the PRT building, but I was as close to off shift as I could be without stepping outside. "Hello?"
"William? It's Annette, from the bar."
A mild shock of surprise for me. After the meet in the bar and the night after, I heard nothing from her, only slipping her my number while not getting one in return. Yeah, I was worried, but my patience paid off after only a week. "Oh! Life wasn't as bright after parting ways."
She paused on the other end before chuckling under her breath. "Sweet talker. Do you have any plans for tonight?"
"Nope, but I would gladly enjoy any with you." I said, not having thought out a plan for this conversation, more worried about if she would ever call me back. A scuff of shoes behind me pulled my attention, and I spun my chair around to find my squad all within a foot of me. "Hold on a moment." I covered the microphone and kicked Tod in the shin, aiming at Jerry next.
"Scatter! The conqueror is coming for us!"
"She sounds nice… older, too." Jerry stepped back out of my reach.
"A bit stern. Got a dommy mommy?" Ah yes, the little shit, I'd give him a good kick later.
Yeah, I made a huge mistake answering the phone here.
A soft breeze carried the ocean's scent, keeping the summer air cool. The setting sun painted the sky a mosaic of warm colors on the perfect canvas of puffy clouds. Annette's arm looped around my left, her head resting against my upper arm while we strolled down the boardwalk on the edge of the bay. A light sundress whipped around her body with each gust, hinting at what I knew was underneath.
I, myself, wore a travesty to all jeans, practically glued to my legs-not intentionally, but they were the largest ones that weren't hanging off my waist-with a forest green polo, also sinfully tight. All brand new and just bought hours ago. I doubted my normal out-of-work attire of sport shorts and stretchy shirts counted.
Annette's hand lowered, and thin fingers slipped between mine.
This was fast. I was actually at a loss at how a hook up turned into a date a week later. All the experiences in my past life accounted for nil-the less said about my current one, the better. She went against all my research, latching onto me at a worrying pace, and made my guilt all the worse, knowing she just wanted company.
"I'm nothing more than a PRT data analyst. There isn't much I can talk about my job. You know how it is. What about you, Annette? A wonderful woman such as you must have a suitable career to match."
She hummed, as she so often did while thinking. A hand rested on my core, pressing down on the thinly covered muscles. "It's rare you find such a sculpted body on a data analyst. Or of one of your stature."
I thought of Butch's preferred prey and mentally agreed with Annette. She was always quick to point out inconsistencies or outliers. "A body is your temple; to take ill care of it is ghastly. Something I can tell you agree with and I approve of." Yet not a lie. She surprised me with how fit she was, going against all my research of her that barely included any exercise in years.
"Indulging always felt so sinful. At least I found a way that wouldn't leave me grotesque." She avoided my curious look with practiced ease.
Yup, I officially had no clue what was happening. Not in a thousand years would I expect a woman like Annette to act like she is. I'd like to think I performed above average, maybe even exceptional, but that wouldn't preclude her outright stating she wanted more, not like this. Maybe keeping up appearances was going to be harder than I expected.
"As for my job? I'm a literature professor at BBU. Shamefully, the written word has lost its value compared to the wonderful world of parahumans. At least to most. There's so much to learn tucked away between the pages. History repeats itself, even when you mix in superpowers."
I didn't expect the vitriol, but I supposed most people spare a second glance at written works of art from hundreds of years ago when people with superpowers were right there. Worse than that, this was Brockton Bay, the cape capital of the world. "And I wouldn't expect anything less. Though I have to admit, I'm not well versed in the literary world."
"Oh? I would think a data analyst would find parallelism between overarching plots and the world around us. While the world may change, people don't."
"Yet, a book has to make sense. While the world is as chaotic as it obeys the rules, only that we don't know what they are. A story has structure, a noblis oblige to maintain coherence while the world has no such expectations." I spoke aloud, thinking of my firsthand experience with remembering a book about this world and the coming reality of living it.
Annette bit her bottom lip, lost in thought, while we continued down the semi crowded boardwalk. "Thank you. I shall add that to my coming semester as extra credit. Every day you can learn about a new perspective."
"When you stop learning, is the day you die." That was absolutely the new me, a gluttonous beast for skills to master.
I thought I was doing well until Annette sighed heavily. "My daughter would love you."
While I knew Taylor was alive and well, the way she worded that set of alarms. "Would?" I let an ounce of trepidation in my voice and, by pointing her out first, I showed I cared more about her feelings than her having a daughter and potentially a husband.
A slight turn of her head and eyes scanned me from behind her glasses. The intelligent woman I knew she was-shown at long last. A frown turned neutral. "I suppose now would be a good time to come clean. My husband died on September 9th, 2008. About eight months ago. I must seem like a haughty woman, already dipping my toes in so soon. Taylor, my daughter, won't take kindly to anyone she feels like is replacing Danny."
"Ah, better than I feared. I can understand her position." I don't think that offering condolences would do me any favors considering I had her hand intertwined with mine while walking down Boardwalk.
"Not disquieted?"
"No, if you feel ready, then who am I to question you? How much you include me in your life is solely up to you, though I would prefer to know you a bit more before meeting your daughter."
Annette chuckled under her breath. "So would I, no offense."
A blond girl, young too, stepped around a couple of people walking past to the right of me and bounced off after colliding against my side. She shook her head and took off… with my wallet. I sighed internally, writing off everything within, which luckily wasn't anything important. A wallet carried cash, and that was it. A slim clip protected my license, PRT card, and credit cards. Losing the nice leather wallet bothered me more than the five hundred dollars I had in it.
I could've caught the girl or even snatched her hand in action, but I valued the building fiction I had with Annette more.
Annette slowed to a stop. "I'll return shortly. The ladies' room calls." She undid her hand and slipped free before walking back the way we came, going for a nearby restaurant.
I didn't hold it against her, having read more than I cared to admit about menopause and post-childbirth. Instead of standing there in the middle of the walkway, I scanned the surrounding area for a place to sit. And saw three enforcers drag a teen into an alley with everyone ignoring them.
There was time.
I cracked my neck and strutted through the crowds, parting them as no one dared to block my way. A simple clearing of my throat caught the enforcer's attention after one already laid a punch into the… girl's stomach. "What might be happening here?"
So often, a show had to be put on when I already knew the answers. She stole from one of the shops, and those were nice clothes spread out on the dirty alley. Yes, I understood this was their job, but beating her was a step too far. Especially when that punch I witnessed wasn't the first.
"None of your business. Move along!" Gruff and no nonsense.
"I would think a simple call for the police would suffice." I crossed my arms over my chest and glowered down at the man in a distinct uniform. Not quite police, but better than security, yet the man who wore it was clearly a thug. A legal thug, but a thug regardless.
The girl puked, whimpering, but still held up by an enforcer behind her. I raised an eyebrow, but I knew I put them in a poor position. If they called the police and they took her away, this would create a paper trail of physical abuse, when most undesirables were simply beaten and told not to come back. Nothing would change, but they might fire this enforcer.
So I offered a way out. "Just let her go-she's gotten her lesson."
Yet, you didn't become an enforcer by being particularly bright. More sadistic than anything else. The enforcer brandished his baton-like that would do anything against me. He wasn't even tall, maybe five eight, giving me a good nine inches on him. "Last warning!"
I blinked, eh? Then he swung. I caught the baton with one hand and slugged him with the other. Just a tap too. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Ah, oops. I hoped this wouldn't get reported, otherwise I'd get another talking to about appropriate force. The last two decided discretion was the better part of valor and took off.
What was done, was done. I bent down and lifted the girl off the alley. She missed the puddle of puke when she fell after the enforcer holding her up took off. She groaned, but really she brought this on herself, and she refused to stand on her own, much to my annoyance. "Just stand up. You're fine."
She groaned oh so pitifully.
"I'm going to put you in your puke." And just like that, she could stand. Amazing. "Stop stealing shit. You don't need designer clothes. I'd overlook food, but not a hundred and fifty dollar blouse. Get lost and think about why your stomach hurts so much." I gave her a light shove before picking up the clothes she dropped all over the ground after being dragged out back and put them back in the bag and hung it on the side of the dumpster for the unconscious enforcer.
That was my good deed for the day. Hopefully, it made up for the bad. I already felt the negative karma with my wallet being stolen. Just in time, too, Annette strolled around where she left me, my wallet curiously in-hand. I regarded her, finding it partially funny how we had such opposing body types. Though, the slimness and lack of overt curves worked well in her favor, exasperating the sharp sternness, and gave her an air of command she would otherwise lack if her beauty was a touch more conventional. Something I admired.
But how did she find my wallet?
(Annette)
The blond girl slipped away with William's wallet and Annette found it curious. He didn't react visibly when he noticed what had happened. They were little tells, but he failed to consider his thrumming pulse, that beat at a constant 50 beats per minute except when the girl bumped into him, elevating to seventy. She wasn't sure what job he performed at the PRT, but it certainly wasn't a data analyst.
Annette would have to pay attention if she visited the PRT headquarters rather than the Protectorate base out on the bay, like she spent the last week. She initially wanted to have this date a few days after the rendezvous, but the power testing and paperwork of signing up as a cape took far longer than expected.
They tried hard for her to join full time and to get her identity, but she only advertised her thinker power, letting her call in while receiving a stipend to purchase more books for her forming library. She didn't believe for a moment they would honor her request to remain anonymous, but it gave her some ammunition for if they pushed the boundary.
The added income security was moot if she put Taylor in more danger.
Annette gave William her excuse and broke away, having locked her attention on the blond girl's head. This was a great opportunity to build her rapport with him, to show she was a strong independent woman, or that was how the story played out with her role. Personally, she felt making these displays eroded the respect she and women everywhere worked for. All women should be independent, not needing to make a show of it. Yet, based on their earlier conversation, he appreciated her independence.
A dog and pony show.
With this, he would be grateful, laying himself submissive, giving her another opportunity to tie him in by requesting to spend another night. And she would slot in the most sensual roles to blow his mind away. She refused to be held back by her body.
The girl slipped into a woman's bathroom beside an open restaurant to check her earnings and dispose of any incriminating evidence, that's what she would do. Annette followed her in, checking the stalls for other occupants, but they were empty. The girl glanced up with her green eyes widening upon seeing her.
Annette smiled, laying a single hand on the girl's shoulder, digging polished fingernails into soft skin. The daring anti-heroine role fell into place. She held out her right hand, palm up. "I believe my boyfriend would appreciate the return of his wallet."
Internally, Annette blinked, boyfriend? This was the first date. She would never include the first meeting as such.
The girl paled, all the blood draining from her face. She slipped the money back into William's wallet and dropped it in Annette's hand.
"Good girl." Annette said, taking another moment to let foreign skills feed her information about the girl's appearance. The slightly sunken cheeks and a layer of dirt on her skin and clothes contrasted with the quality she wore. A runaway then. She took out a slip of paper from her purse and scribbled out her cell number before taking a twenty from William's wallet, handing both back. "Get yourself a warm meal and if you absolutely need a place to spend the night, call me."
Last edited: Dec 23, 2023
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 4
AN: Beta'd by Grimtide
Chapter 4
In a meeting room deep within the PRT, twenty-four musclebound and lethal agents sat in folding chairs two sizes too small for them. The plastic groaned under the bulk of some. An overt ripeness in the air that only fitness freaks who ate too much protein could produce. Above them, the ventilation system worked overtime, changing out hot humid air for fresh air, not designed for a group such as this.
Before all of them, standing in front of a podium, Captain Rodriguez, one of the few female squad leaders, kept her shoulders squared and met our gazes with steel. She had overall command and gave this briefing. Outside the PRT, many would look down on her, being of average height at 5'4", and lacking much of the might required for field agents, but she had something many of my fellow agents lacked. A mind that can adapt rapidly to changing situations, while remaining cool and collected. Being a tactical genius also helped.
"Today will be our first strike back against the ABB." She cut herself off before her words vanished in the grumbling. No one was happy about Lung or the ABB, Azn Bad Boys, but there was nothing we could do.
For how the atmosphere around agents settled into a weird mix of military and SWAT, I couldn't believe how Lung survived being taken captive in Worm. Squads were families, and that fucker racked up a kill count of agents. I'd only known mine for a few months, but I think I'd risk prison to get payback on their killer.
Yet we weren't suicidal either. ABB had Lung, a rage dragon able to defeat the entire cape roster we had, and Oni Lee, a teleporting suicide bomber. Both lethal and never held back.
"Quiet!" She slammed her hands down on the podium. "Do you or do you not want payback?"
"I don't want to be a dragon's BBQ!" A rumbling agreement from the gathered agents.
"You will be happy to know we have an additional source of intelligence. Lights." The overhead flicked off, and a projector turned on, displaying a picture of a warehouse with two cars parked out front and an armed guard standing in an upper window. "This is 668 Seaview Avenue, a warehouse mutually owned by several nearby small businesses. It is a ABB drug stash, and they received a fresh shipment within the past few days. Our sources give us an extremely high likelihood of neither Oni Lee nor Lung responding.
"Squad 28, 31, 42, and 50 with heroes Velocity and Battery will conduct a raid in concert. We'll hit fast, confiscate everything and arrest the gangbangers, then vacate. Just because we have the reassurance, I'd rather not put your lives on the line.
"Squad 42 will take vanguard and neutralize all immediate hostiles. The rest of the squads and the heroes will disembark next for a full clear. Velocity and 50 will take the rear of the building and catch stragglers. Battery and 28 are to remain on lookout and provide reinforcements should anything go wrong. Thirty-one, support 42 and remove detained threats.
"ROE is as follows. Less-than-lethal. I will okay lethal based on the threat posed. Just because they have guns doesn't mean we need to respond in kind."
"That's some bullshit! You just don't want to anger the fucking overgrown lizard!"
Captain Rodriguez remained quiet, telling us everything we needed to know. This wasn't her decision, but came from higher up. I shook my head, annoyed at how they could leave such a horrible gang around. There were rules to be followed, even as a gang, and the ABB trod all over them. They killed and enslaved, holding enough might to make their current acts less costly than taking them out.
A few blocks of Brockton Bay remained a charred mess, with hundreds of deaths from Lung's last rampage. To the higher brass, people were just numbers. The enslavement of a few weighed positively against hundreds killed. Especially with how costly the training of agents was.
I shifted in my seat, worried it might give its last ghost of effort at staying in one piece, and frowned. If up to me, I would've taken my squad out with a big fuckoff gun and assassinated Lung. It'd upset gangs everywhere, but letting the beast do what he pleased gave everyone else precedence to copy them.
The more time I spent listening to PRT orders, the more I chafed under them. To maintain balance from the outside was easier to agree with than to experience it firsthand. I'd declare war in a heartbeat, cauterize the festering wound. An emotional response that did nothing to solve why the gangs existed in the first place, but I was only human and when I saw evil, I wanted to remove it by any means necessary.
Rodriguez continued planning and plotting out the raid, but the atmosphere already turned sour. Not a single person, including her, agreed with our mandate. I filed out with Squad 42 to gear up.
Henry closed the locker room door and turned on some loud music before ushering us in close. A tight snarl and a twitching eye gave an outside look at his often hidden emotions. "If the demon shows, put a fucking bullet between his eyes, I'll take whatever fall comes down on us." He met each of our eyes, with Tod, Jerry, and Butch snarling in turn. All four of them turned to Dave and I.
I nodded, more than okay with the order. Propagating misery didn't have the return ratio that those idiots in Cauldron wanted. I'd rather have highly trained and powerful capes on my side than teeming masses looking to stab anyone and everyone in the back the moment they could. Teacher had a bullet with his name on it and no one could convince me otherwise.
Dave followed. "Sure, but why?"
"Ever see what a frag does to a head? We know firsthand."
That painted a nasty picture, but PRT agents had the absolute worst lifespan of any profession for a reason. Almost no one retired-they either died or got so maimed that even cape healers couldn't put them back together. That or they broke.
The armored van bounced down potholed roads and I mused about how strong those shocks were. Two drivers, six agents, and the extra armor. That was a lot of weight.
Butch shifted beside me, her armored body pressed into my side like everyone else in the back. Opposite sat Jerry, with our knees inter-spaced, holding his shield against the back door, overlapping mine. No one talked or made a sound. The risk of tempting fate should we mention what was to come. Every time we set out, there existed a chance of one less returning.
If Lung showed…
I buried the fear, instead turning to think about Annette and the confusing mess that had become. That went out of control on the first date when she returned my wallet and kept spiraling. Five days a week, I clashed wits with her, always ending up in bed and turning our choice of weapons from mind to body. Only my tinkertech granted stamina and regeneration kept me going.
How Annette kept up, I couldn't imagine. Each time escalated further from our vanilla first, driven by her of all people, but turned to me to match.
I should've said something. Bowed out, done anything, but she stroked the competitiveness within me. How could I, the closest thing to a super-soldier, lose to a normal person?
For the rest of the drive, I formulated new and creative approaches. Daring acrobatic feats and tests of endurance. I'd damn well win the next round and solidify my place with her. A growing part of me anticipated our next date.
"One minute." The driver announced over comms.
I turned to my partner, Butch, and tapped helmets before clasping hands with the other heavy, Jerry. The rest of the squad followed suit, all dressed head to toe in black armored suits. Helmets removed any sense of individuality and no one could guess who was who from the outside… that was, if they didn't work and live with them.
Shield firmly strapped to my arm, I undid the belts keeping me in place, ready to spring forward at a moment. The sudden deceleration from the driver hitting the brakes combined with the small light above flickering green said everything I needed to know. I pulled the handle and threw the doors open. My foot hit the tarmac, and I took in everything.
Three cars out front. No pedestrians around. No hostiles immediately present.
"This is the PRT! Put down your weapons and surrender!" Speakers blared their warning and ruined the surprise. Fucking rules.
I hefted my shield up toward the warehouse, feeling Butch latch onto the back of my armor, her containment foam projector extending past my right side. After so long working together, trusting each other with our lives, I thought of her as a sister. A delinquent menace, but one I wouldn't give up for anything. We moved as one, long-honed reflexes and muscle memory working together.
Jerry rounded beside me, his shield clanking against mine, and once Henry and Dave finally extracted themselves from the back of the van, it pulled away. Spending each day putting out fire with my life on the line turned Squad 42 into a family.
One step, two.
A window shattered.
B-b-b-bang!
My shield shook under the impacts, rattling me. Spiderwebs sprawled out from where the bullets hit, leaving craters in the transparent material. That was a rifle, maybe an AK. I ground my teeth together, regulated to a single pistol with rubber rounds.
Butch raised her projector and a stream of foam erupted, matched by a twin stream from Tod, flowing through the broken window from thirty feet away. Some splattered on the outer wall, but enough entered that twenty seconds later, foam expanded out of the hole, sealing off a line of attack.
Not once did I stop moving. Little steps, solid steps.
At the front door, I parted to the left, and Jerry went right. Henry slammed his battering ram against the door, splintering the wood on the first blow and the second ripped through. I entered the dark room, pistol in hand. Another bullet pinged off my shield, and I fired five times at the source, sending him to the ground, clutching his chest. Butch foamed him. The rest of Squad 42 followed.
Three doors out of the room. We went to each, tapping them to gauge composition, and we were in luck, being that the doors were thin composite. "Party poppers," Henry ordered.
Dave undid his grenade launcher from his back and spun the magazine, aiming at the door on the left. Henry gestured to me and Butch, both of us not needing any more than that. I locked eyes with where Butch's were and nodded at her. She returned it.
Bang! BANG!
The party popper ripped through the thin door and detonated. I reared back and slammed my heel against the knob, ripping the lock straight off, and Butch entered.
Bang! BANG! As another party popper went off in another room.
I paid it no attention, instead falling upon stunned ABB gangbangers. Two of them with hastily discarded cards and civilian clothes. The rifles off to the side proved they weren't innocent. I kicked the first in the side and slammed them face-first into the ground and zipped him. Butch did the same. "Two threats down in L1." As in the first room to the left from entry point one. Another scan revealed no additional routes, so Butch and I retreated, being greeted by a squad rolling in. Two agents went into the room we left to handle the threats while we continued on.
Assorted clears rang out as my squad cleared other rooms.
The office area of the warehouse proceeded without incident. A couple more shots on target, but the gangbangers fell easy enough. Trained soldiers they were not. Half surrendered without a fight.
Yet there was a problem, no drugs anywhere. I knew that left the actual open part of the warehouse out back with Squad 50 and Velocity keeping watch of the loading dock. But a wide open space, without cover, always turned into a nightmare. The full squad gathered at the thick metal doors. Concrete walls prevented any sneaky breakthroughs, so this had to go with brute force.
My heart hammered in my chest, ramping up with the possibility of what was on the other side. I could die. Everything I've done for the future and the horrible deeds for it-wasted. The thought of leaving behind Annette after everything twisted my stomach. Lies on top of lies, playing a person I wasn't, and becoming the support structure she needed. I couldn't let this be the end. I owed her.
Dave and Henry grabbed the handles. Jerry and I braced behind our shields with our seconds behind us.
"Now!" Henry shouted.
The doors ripped open and my eyes went wide.
"CAPE!" I screamed, shoving Jerry and Tod back behind the wall and pressing my shoulder tight against my shield and screwing my eyes shut. Butch followed my lead without hesitation, reacting quicker than I could speak by following me down into a crouch.
Standing ten feet away was a woman in a sun-colored kimono with a flaming demon mask. A ball of light shimmered violently between her hands, almost a miniature sun. A dozen gangbangers surrounded her.
The world erupted in fire. Light scoured through my eyelids. Even through my shield and armor, heat nipped at my skin. Then came the wave of blistering air, more powerful than Triumph's shouts.
I bounced once before slamming into the back wall. There was no time to think or rest. Stinging eyes forced open, painfully taking in the scant light now filtering in from the crumbling ceiling. Flames licked up walls and toasted furniture. Concrete rubble littered the ground, the doorway twice as wide after the explosion. Gangbangers leveled their rifles at us. I clenched my jaw tight and heaved myself up to draw their attention, shield still strapped tight to my arm just as they fired. The drumbeat of war thundered and my squad hung by a thread.
Rounds clattered down, my shield warped under the blows, the heat having softened the material. A side gave way and shattered. A female screamed from behind me, that could only be Butch, and a switch flipped-no longer did I play by the rules.
I mentally cursed the bean-counters, wishing I had my rifle right about now, but my pistol would do. Under withering fire, I lined up my first shot and put a rubber round through a grunt's eye. The second shot killed another and their morale wavered. I based my targets around cold calculation as the grunts were the ones firing rifles into my downed squad. And the damn training I went through mandated not killing capes. I would, but instincts beaten into my head said otherwise.
The cape screamed something, but I couldn't understand her.
"Get Butch the fuck out of here!" I fired another shot, hitting a fleeing member in the back of the knee, sending them sprawling out before shifting to the next and hitting them in the back of the head.
"You fucking owe me!" Butch yelled. She hated being looked down on for being a girl regardless that I gave no fucks about it, but saying she had to get out after being shot must twinge her nose.
A blue blur rocketed onto the scene, but the ABB cape was more than ready, detonating another sphere of light. About time Battery showed up! I couldn't fault her, being less than a minute into the fight.
This flash was weak enough that I weathered the blow, but I lacked time to close my eyes, blinding me from the flash and heat, only seeing outlines and shapes around me, but it was enough to see Battery get launched away. She tumbled twice before slamming into a rack of goods, the bar twisting and sending the load falling down.
Every bit of six years of training screamed at me to retreat with the injured, but fuck that, Battery just graduated from ward to protectorate. Eighteen, far too young to die like this. Plus, revenge.
I clamped down on my screaming body, muscled through my fear of dying, and charged. Bullets flew with each pull of the trigger, but they never hit. Hard to aim while I couldn't see, but compared to the dim world, the glowing ball of light taunted me. Not pointed at me, but at Battery still pinned to the ground.
A bullet smashed into my side and another into my thigh. I reared back and threw my shield like a frisbee. The glow vanished and the ABB cape jumped out of the way. The back of my head noted she can't use her balls of light while moving. A third shot hit my chest plate. I don't think any penetrated, but the area underneath screamed in pain.
I was all that stood between my squad and death. I would not falter.
Only I wasn't quick enough to reach the cape. A flash of light and a wave of heat. I tumbled end over end, bouncing off the floor before coming to a rest. The crescendo of guns firing, people screaming.
I cracked open my abused eyes and smoke wafted off my burned armor-the outer layer of my visor bubbled. Battery blurred out from the wreckage she ended up in and slammed into the ABB cape, unable to respond quickly enough after blasting me. A constant crackle of pops detonated, but compared to earlier, they were like a distant firework.
Muzzle flashes gave me a good read of the remaining threats. I grabbed a foam grenade. Every movement pained me, but I still clicked the trigger and threw the grenade before taking out my second, and tossing it into another group.
A deep breath kindly made me aware of my broken ribs, but I wasn't done, not yet. I bared my teeth and pushed myself up, stumbling onto my feet. No sounds reached me beyond faint pops, just a dull roar of blood in my ears. The ABB cape wasn't down yet. She had to go down if I wanted to extract my team. I wasn't sure how they took the initial blast, but I pushed Jerry and Tod out of the way and took the brunt of the impact for Butch. Yet, compared to them, they were squishy and if I was this injured; I hated to think about what they were suffering.
I'd give anything for a shotgun, a rifle, anything. Foam had its uses, the same for rubber rounds, but against a cape like this with no restraint, we lacked direct options to take her down in an expedient manner.
Each step I took, I yelled fuck out of pain in my head, but I built up momentum. Stumbling at first, I gained speed with what I had left of my eyesight locked onto the ABB cape.
"Raaaagh!" My shoulder plowed into her and wrapped my arms tight before I rammed into a rack. Bones cracked in my arms, boxes fell down and I ended up on my back with the cape locked down. I squeezed tight, willing muscles to flex regardless of the state of my bones.
The world flickered.
A wash of air crossed my face, tinted with the smell of smoke and quite warm. The cape wasn't in my arms. Someone lifted me in a princess carry and I absently wondered who could do that.
I think spending the next few weeks in the hospital edged out the pain I suffered as the worst experience. Being blinded with wraps over my eyes just made it all the worse. The only consolidation was that I was going to make a full recovery. A tinkertech-enhanced body certainly carried its advantages.
Squad 42 ended up in similar straits. Jerry, Tod, and Henry took some hard hits, but the doctors discharged them already. Dave, being the idiot he was, removed his helmet and took the next blast on bare skin. From what I was told, he got a nasty third-degree burn on half his head. Liz, or Butch, took the least damage from the cape, but a bullet skipped between the armor plates and shattered the ulna on her right arm. That right there was two to three months of healing without my advantages. Squad 42 was down for the count.
"Um."
Hm, female voice, younger, slightly tentative. "Yes?"
"Right, can't see. Uh, it's Battery. I just wanted to… thank you, Agent McBride, for saving my life."
Huh, I didn't expect that. Usually, capes and agents kept separated for the most part. "I was doing my job, and I couldn't let a genuine hero like you die." I held out my hand in her general direction, which she took, and I gave a slight shake. Just going on memories, I knew she was the type of heroine we needed, rather than a rules lawyer like Miss Militia or Armsmaster, so caught up with his own ego. This had to be a blow to her ego, so best I shore it up. "Thank you, Battery, for charging in and saving my squad."
"I-i-it's what heroes do." An awkward pause where she kept gripping my hand after I already let go. She jerked her hand away. "S-sorry. How long is your recovery?"
"Two weeks or so. It's going to be painfully boring, but how are you doing? I saw you take some hard hits during the fight and you lack the armor I wear." I was curious considering she wore a skintight suit that wouldn't provide much insulation against heat-based attacks.
"Oh, just some light burns. My powers let me blunt the attacks as infrared and visible light fall on the electromagnetic spectrum, and I can manipulate those when charged."
"Really? I saw you get launched into the rack."
"It… takes concentration, and the shockwave caught me off-guard. The hot air is also what burnt me."
"Ah, I'm glad you didn't get too hurt."
"W-when you're released, would you mind training me?"
"I'm not a cape." I denied. She would kick my ass in every way unless I foamed her.
"B-but I saw your file. You are a brute and you fight somewhat like I do. That tackle was perfect but I always shy away, afraid of hurting someone too much! What do you think about me using a shield, too? To give me cover while charging?"
I thought about her proposition and instantly appreciated the idea. It'd give an entirely new vector to approach a situation besides placing her body in the way to protect others. Plus, as a shield, it wouldn't look aggressive, yet giving her a large surface area to leverage against squishier targets. "That sounds like a great idea. Can your control over electromagnetism let you manipulate magnetic fields? Control metal objects?"
"Yes? Just push or pull."
On the inside, I laughed, planning on making her a budget Captain America. Give her a metal shield to throw around and bam. "Maybe ask Armsmaster for a metal round shield, so you can throw it and bring it back with your power."
"Oh! I would have to practice, but I think I could."
"How's your fitness outside of your power?" I asked, thinking about how heavy the shield could be. Too light and it wouldn't hold up to attacks or her strength, too heavy and she'd be held back while uncharged.
"… good… ish."
"Okay, then you have a good path forward. Ask for shields, from thin to thick, and start hitting the gym. I'll check your progress once I'm out."
"Right, you can't see, ah, yes! Thank you… can I call you Will?"
"Sure." This was certainly better than being stuck in bed without anything to do.
"McBride?" A male voice asked.
"Yes?"
"You have a visitor."
"Send them in." The more the merrier and better to keep the boredom away.
"Uh, do you mind if I stop by again?" Battery asked.
"Sure, you know where to find me." I'm hilarious.
"Will?"
I knew that voice, and there was a heavy tremor to it. "Annette?" Her body pressed against my bandaged one and lips pecked mine.
"I'll, uh, see you later? Bye!" Battery said, and I heard her quick steps away and mutter to herself. "Fucking cradle robbers."
"Uh…" If I heard that, then Annette did too. I'd roll my eyes if I could. Some people were oddly uptight about things, especially the age gap between me and her. I was damn well old enough to not get taken advantage of, more so when I was the one taking advantage of her!
The excuse I gave was that I was in a car crash while at work and the PRT was providing in-house care. Unless Annette examined my naked body and found the large bruises left from being shot, everything else fit. And I could explain away even those bruises.
"Are you in pain? Hungry? How's the food? Is there anything I can do to help?" Annette ignored the comment and flittered around me, fingers touching here and there. Just a brush over the heavily bandaged areas.
"I can handle the pain, more bored than anything. The food is okay and I don't think so. I'm going to be on bed rest for two weeks and without being able to see, stuck here the entire time."
"… are you going to recover?" I could hear the undertone and I understood the necessity of it. Taking care of a cripple was a job in itself, a thankless one. Considering we'd been dating for a month now, that would be far too much to ask.
"Yup, I should only have minimal scarring, too."
"Oh, thank god. Please be more careful driving. I, uh, already lost my husband. I don't want to lose you too." Annette's voice strained, leaking pure worry. I ran a hand over the back of her head, down her hair in comfort.
I paused and kicked myself. Danny died in a car accident, and here I was, laid out in a hospital bed covered in bandages. This was like emotional torture for her and it hurt knowing I put her through it. After that fight, and my close brush with death that could come every day I worked, I reevaluated everything.
Spending my life working for a singular goal while putting everything else by the wayside turned into an unscalable mountain. I wanted to enjoy my new life, and let myself get attached. Annette was just a vector to train Taylor, but I'd grown to enjoy our dates and the verbal sparring. The nights spent together were just icing on the cake.
Would it be so bad if I gave in? "I promise." And meant it.
Annette cupped my cheeks and pecked my lips again. "Thank you. Now, are you able to get discharged?"
"I'd believe so, but…"
"That isn't a problem. I'll be taking care of you."
I paused and nodded my head, smiling. "I think I'd like that."
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 5
AN: I swore I wouldn't write overt smut for the story and I failed. It's at the end.
Beta'd by Grimtide
Chapter 5
"Enjoying your time off?" I asked and sidestepped the stapler thrown at me.
"Shut your goddamn whore mouth!" Liz yelled from behind her desk.
"Doing well, then." And that was a pen. "You know, that's not nice."
"Fuck you and your stupid, unfair body. I have two more months of this, and you're back walking around after being black and blue!" Liz descended into a scathing rage, shuffling paper around while waving her right arm with a cast on it.
"No love?" I asked, leaning against the wall of the cubical. All the surroundings had a curious lack of occupants.
"AHHH!"
I laughed. Never before had I had such a close relationship with a squadmate; I'd consider Liz almost a sister after partnering with her for months. Trusting her with my life.
"Why the fuck aren't you stuck in the hell hole with me?"
"Mental time off and such." Yeah, the cameras on my helmet painted a pretty poor picture. Maybe I shouldn't have laughed while reviewing the footage, but that cape's face right before I bulldozed into her was hilarious. The others in the room didn't find it as funny.
Nothing I did broke SOP, but they ruled I broke the spirit. The cape? She required fifteen hours of surgery to put her ribcage back together. A mook lost his eye, and two more died from my shots.
I didn't care in the least. They were trying to kill my team, so it was only right that I returned the favor. Bad PR. But I would take the talking to and suspension in exchange for zero deaths on the good side. The only side that matters.
We got lucky, considering that a new cape showed up at the worst possible time. If only I wasn't already on a short lease from my other acts. I think I found the downside to being a couple of times stronger than I should be. Any time I get emotional, or caught up in the fight, just a little more power eeks out of my control. Not enough normally to make a difference, but I wasn't normal.
Liz sagged, resting her chin on her cast, almost face-planting. "They really fucked you, eh? We were dead to rights, and your muscled ass yanked us out of the fire. Fuck. I knew the brass valued villains more than us agents, but it stings every time. How long?"
"Suspended for two months pending a couple reviews, a shrink, and classes on reasonable force." I just had to go. That didn't mean I had to pay attention or do as they said.
"Just a slap on the wrist; good. With pay?"
I nodded at her, a smile tugging on my lips. "With pay."
"Who yanked the chain?"
"Rodriguez."
"Always knew she was a good bitch, loyal to her agents."
"Yeah, she came and spoke with me off the books." I peeked around the cubicles and found no one. "They got this information from a new thinker, cost per tell, and they wanted to make it work." Money-grubbing bastards.
"… we were guinea pigs." Liz bared her teeth, clamping a hand on the edge of the desk and squeezing until her face turned red. Then she breathed out. "Did she say who approved it?"
When I heard who, the temptation to pull my pistol and hunt the fucker down came scary close to winning over. I made a cutting motion on my neck before mouthing Calvert. Why the fuck was Coil already trying to get me killed? The next time I saw that bastard, I was cuffing him on 'accident' and smacking him into tomorrow.
Liz fumed, knowing there was nothing we could do to object as nothing more than field agents. The treatment the brass had for us bordered on cruel; surprisingly, one of the staunchest supporters in the PRT ENE was Piggot herself, even if she was a massive bitch on her best days. I'd heard how agents were treated down in Houston with Eidolon and swore I'd never be part of that department. He wanted capes, and that was it.
"Need anything?" I asked.
"… yeah, there's this guy. In analytics. Curly brown afro, five-five, glasses. His name is Dan; could you pass on a message?"
That was quite the description and perfectly fit Liz, but considering I was on paid administrative leave and she was stuck doing paperwork, I figured I would lend a hand. "… and why don't you do it yourself?"
I withheld my surprise when she blushed like a maiden when I knew she got up to far worse than even Dave. She swallowed a lump in her throat and turned away from me. "It's embarrassing. Just tell him 'winter has come early and needs some pampering'. If you say shit, I'm shoving my foot up your ass."
Yup, still Liz, and I'd rather not be a part of whatever she gets up to. "Sure, should I carry him down here and hand him over too? Bag over the head? Hands tied?"
"Fuck you, Will."
I ducked out of her cubicle before a stapler hit some sensitive bits.
"Are you Dan?" I asked the first man who fit Liz's description. While he might be a foot shorter than me, I'd say he weighed as much as one of my legs. Damn, he was skinny. The striped button-up shirt didn't help, just making him look like a skinny clown with that afro. Big round glasses just topped it.
He met my gaze and crossed his arms, not the least bit intimidated. "Who's asking?"
I'd take that as a yes. If he didn't react to me, then I bet he put up with Liz pretty well. A slight cough into my hand helped stall the awkwardness, not wanting to repeat what Liz told me. "Uh, winter has come early and needs some pampering."
Dan blinked before he rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy. What happened to Miss Snow this time?"
"Shot in the arm. Over two months' recovery."
If anything, Dan's smile grew wider. "I knew I saved up that PTO for a reason! Don't worry, baby girl, Dan's coming!"
I… wanted to drink bleach because of how dirty that made me feel. And that was coming from a guy faking a relationship with Annette, who spent weeks taking care of me.
Liz would never appear in the same light again. Wait, I already knew she was like this.
After doing my rounds and meeting up with the rest of my squad, I entered the Protectorate HQ out on the bay, having driven across the light bridge. The entire reason I even checked in today.
Battery got a little insistent on the training session after ducking out of medical and missing her first visit.
It had been only a day since my bandages came off, restoring my eyesight, and yet there were five voicemails on my work phone from her. I forgot to tell her I wasn't staying in the infirmary until two days later. Oops.
The PRT agent at the entrance scanned my ID, their face hidden behind the standard blank helmet. "You're on leave." A male voice, maybe mid-thirties.
"I am."
"… why are you here? You realize you just got flagged by the system, McBride."
"Battery asked for training." Then I swore in my head, knowing I'd have to sit down and explain everything before the day ended. That was if they didn't detain me and spend the rest of the day in a cell.
"Hold a moment." The agent tapped on his computer before talking into his internal microphone. A minute later, he looked up. "An agent will lead you to the training facility. Don't deviate unless you want a psy-eval."
"Thanks…?" It wasn't like I wasn't already facing psy-eval anyway.
"I know you field agents are loose, but no names."
"Damn desk jockeys." I glared at the faceless mask, who returned it for a moment before nodding his head at the agent coming through the door behind him.
"Get the fuck out of here, McBride, and try not to send Battery to the infirmary, eh?"
"No promises." Ah, good old rivalry. Almost all internal agents were just field agents with experience and wanted a bit more structured environment. Less danger of losing limbs, too.
I followed the agent after he rifled through my bag of clothes and through the oil rig turned HQ until they directed me into a training facility without a single person within. A nod in appreciation.
"Ring the front after you get your ass beat."
I snorted, "No confidence?"
"Want to bet?"
"Good try, mystery man. Go find a chair to sit in." Yeah, I heard much about people making bets with faceless interior agents, only for the bet to get called in constantly by different people, all claiming to be owed.
"I think I might just do that. Even stick up my legs. So cozy."
I ignored him and entered the empty facility, my eyes running over every piece of workout equipment I could imagine. Better and barely used compared to what I had at the PRT. Once I spotted the changing room, I switched out into typical stretchy shorts and a tank top. Not to toot my horn, but with muscles as large as mine, exercising in anything restrictive was just annoying. My proportions made clothes either painfully tight or billowing. Tall did not mean fat.
Minutes later, I stepped out, ready to rumble. Only to run straight into Battery, wearing just her facemask and short exercising clothes that left her toned midriff open and too much of her muscled legs. I shook my head, ignoring it. She was, like, seven years younger than me. Ew, practically a baby. "Hey, Battery, ready for hell?"
She half raised her arms before lowering them again, turning before returning to face me. "Uh, Will… hey?" She waved at me.
That was… awkward. Must not laugh. "Alright, let's go over your exercises. Have you been focusing on your shoulders?" I asked this because, well, Battery was a girl and most typically hated building up their upper body.
"Yes, Sir!" Ah, cute.
Haltingly at first, she got over whatever was bugging her the longer she described and showcased her current performance. I could tell this wasn't a program she came up with; more likely, a resident fitness coach did so. Not that I blamed her.
But there was a problem. Battery was strong… for a teenage girl. Pre-augmented me could've picked her up and thrown her. Current me could lift her over my head with a single arm. If she wanted to lug around a block of metal and use it to defend herself when charging, she had a long way to go.
"What's your current workout plan?"
"One hour a day, focusing on my weak points on top of my standard two hours."
"Dedicated," I mumbled to myself, ignoring her sudden stiffness. "Do you have a shield?"
Battery nodded twice. "Armsmaster made me one. No one really sells metal shields… He wasn't particularly happy but didn't trust anyone else to make something… worthy."
I withheld my wince, having distinct unpleasant encounters with Armsmaster. He… didn't see agents as people, closer to tools to complete a job. The lack of lighter shields disappointed me, but it made sense. Not bad, but not pleasant either. "Do you have it with you?"
Battery made a noise of agreement, a brief hum followed by some rapid nods. I had to withhold the urge to pat her head, just like a kid with a new toy. Her actions went at odds with her heroic persona and the serious side she showed to everyone else, trying to be taken more seriously than her age elicited. It would only take a shift of outlook and she would be a kid playing pretend. That would be a problem with graduating from the wards to the protectorate-everyone knew how old you were.
"Want to take it out for a test run?" I offered.
"Yes! I'll go grab it, get it, I'll get the shield!" And there was a fading blur as Battery vanished faster than my eyes could track. How powerful she was still twinged the bit of pride I had. There was nothing I could do to contain her or bring her down. One slap, and I was dead. I saw videos of her fighting Hookwolf that one time, and those blows she landed on the metal beast sent shockwaves rippling out. My fight with him left a scar covering half my face, almost killing me.
Superpowers were damn unfair. At least Battery was putting in the work besides relying on her power like so many other capes. That might be because she never triggered, but instead bought her powers from the boogie men. Something to think about and observe.
I hefted a weighted bat from the rack and gave it a few test swings. Being a cape training facility, the equipment went beyond reasonable. This bat weighed at least fifty pounds-more than any normal person could swing around freely-but was perfect for me. I wanted to telegraph my swings, but still hit with force. Ring her gourd, but give her plenty of time to react.
Battery skipped out of the women's locker room with a gleaming round shield. I did a double take, squinting to take in the details because that thing was straight out of Marvel. No, that was thicker, and a little smaller too. "May I?" I asked, and I had a shield in my hands.
Hm, about an inch thick. I flicked the edge, listening to the ring, but there wasn't one. Then hefted it up and down a couple of times. This wasn't solid.
"Ten pounds?"
"Fifteen." Then I noticed the lack of a handle and took in the vambrace covering Battery's forearms. Two large metal disks on the surface lined up with two indents on the inside of the shield. "Armsmaster outdid himself, didn't he?"
"I know! Uh, hold the inside toward me, fingers not around the lip."
I did as Battery asked and raised her left arm, the one with the vambrace, and a sudden tug almost took the shield out of my fingers, but I held strong.
"C-could you let go… a little?"
"Right."
The shield zipped free and clanked in place. I just knew Battery beamed at me from behind her mask. Then it clinked, doubling in size and catching me by surprise. Big enough that only her shins showed underneath and blocked everything else.
"Wow. How do you control that? I didn't see any switches."
Battery turned the shield away from me so I could see. "Well… there's a lever inside I can pull with my power. It's a pain to close, though." She squinted at the shield, and it shrank by an inch and then another, taking a full minute before returning to its original size. "It springs open if I get distracted."
"Alright, add power focus to our training, then." I swung my bat around, lining up for a swing. "Think fast!" And swung painfully slow.
"Eep!" Shield up, but without bracing herself.
Clank.
I just tapped her shield, and she tipped over backwards, but tucked into a roll before springing back onto her feet. This was going to take some work. To be fair, the bat was fifty pounds and close to a third of her weight, hitting her shield.
"I would've been fine with my power!" Came her instant excuse.
Yeah, but the point was having protection without. I rolled my eyes and waited for her to get up and swing again.
Clank.
"Ouch!" This time her little tuck and roll ended with her on her back, the shield having caught the floor.
Battery lasted fifteen minutes before she couldn't hold up her arm from bruising and lack of endurance. But she went from being knocked down by a gentle swing to taking them without flinching. Still gentle, but we had to start somewhere. Yet the fire in her eyes as she pushed her limits was a touch endearing. If I had to guess, this was the first time someone viewed her beyond her power and didn't hold back… much regarding her age.
Overall, she downright impressed me with her dedication.
By far my favorite cape I've met. A biased opinion with only briefly meeting most and none bothered to ask anything of me. Much less my opinion.
I unlocked my front door, preparing for Annette, having spent the last two weeks around her almost constantly. Somehow I pretended less each day, just as I noticed her relaxing more. The added company soothed my soul and the aching loneliness I ignored for the life of me. Those left behind weren't here and never would be.
"Will." Annette greeted me with her pleasant and warm voice, just what I wanted to hear. As easy on the eyes as always, put together with noticeable effort into her appearance. I had this feeling she kept up her looks even when I lacked my sight.
She sat at my dinner table with notes and assorted books spread out while she nibbled on a pen. Hair done up in a loose bun while she wore a black long-sleeve shirt. She rose to her feet, a picture of grace. I took a step and met her with a hug.
Ahhhh, that was nice. And there it was again: the guilt of misleading. Not telling the truth and hiding so much. Though less than it was months ago.
"I have to admit, coming back to you is… a soothing experience."
"Oh my, is someone getting attached to little old me?" Annette failed to hide her vitriol about her age. Being around each other allowed some less-than-pleasant topics to come up.
Not that I missed her, pressing her nose into the nook of my chest and inhaling while her fingers grazed my back. "Hm? Pray tell that hefty whiff and wandering hands." A genuine smile tugged on my cheeks. I ignored her disparaging comments about herself.
She sighed in exasperation. "I don't know what my crazy body wants next." She relieved me of my sports bags and gave me a swat on the ass. "Go take a shower. You smell."
The telltale sound of a zipper coming undone, and a raised eyebrow followed. "I thought you said I smelled?"
"I never said it was bad; quite pleasant, actually. I'll return your shirt washed when we meet again." Annette said, pulling my sweaty shirt out and folding it into a neat package, which she slipped into her bag.
"That has to be the most confusingly hot thing you've done." If there was one term I had to describe Annette with, it was self-confidence. She had it in spades, and if she wanted something, she was getting it. Shame be damned. A little pushy, but far from unreasonable. "Leaving so soon? I was enjoying the touch of life."
"As you know, I have a daughter, and she's at camp. It's time for me to stop running."
"Not your choice, is it?"
"I'm such a horrific person. Being out of the house, away from it all, just allowed me to pretend it all didn't exist. I was just me, not a mom, not a widow." Annette visibly sagged under the mental weight until she squared her shoulders.
"Everyone needs a break. Don't beat yourself up. If not for you, then Taylor." I rested a hand on her shoulder, stroking my thumb across her jaw.
"I've told you how she took Danny's death. It hit her hard, harder than me. I've… moved on-" She grimaced, "but she holds on tight. Every day, she brings him up, opening the wound again. It hurts. I just wish she would move on and live her life instead of clinging to the past, but that is just me being selfish. Please don't judge me too harshly."
"I wouldn't dare. You're only human. We all are." I said as much to Annette as to myself. The things on the horizon… there was only so much I could do-less than I planned, less than I wanted. I refused to bring up my foreknowledge because I was damn selfish. There was no telling what the reaction would be, but I wanted to live at all costs. How many people was I sacrificing just to live my life?
If I judged Annette for wanting to move past her dead husband and getting annoyed at her daughter for how much she brought him up, I would be a hypocrite of the highest order.
Annette hummed, gazing into my eyes. "I'd think you were a hippy if not for your body and distaste for drugs."
I barked out a laugh, caught off guard by her comment, finding it more hilarious considering why I was on leave and how many people I've sent to the hospital. "And how would you know, Annette?"
A coy smile. "Who knows?"
I shook my head. Sometimes speaking with her was a guessing game. Did she mean she knew what a hippy was because she lived that life, or did she know more about me? Or, more likely, she was yanking my chain. "So I take it we're slowing down for a while?"
"Weeks, at the least. Maybe a month or two with my job starting once summer is over."
"If you need anything… anything at all, I'm there, even if it means facing down your temperamental daughter, who I could never imagine where she got her formidable will from."
"Laugh it up, you big lug, because you are going to meet her."
"Oh… oh! So you are keeping me around, I'm guessing, as a trophy?"
"How many women can say they have a muscled Adonis feeding them grapes?" She raised a hand to cover her mouth and tittered. "I'll be the talk of the town. Oh my, what should I ever do?"
"I'd start with not doing that again." She played the role of a devious socialite far too well.
"Oh my, oh my, can't handle mature women?" Annette held her impetus gaze, her hand covering her mouth, for a moment, and laughed. Amusement sparkled in her eyes. "Maybe one last goodbye before you get cleaned up?"
I shook my head ever so slightly at her antics. Then raised an eyebrow when she laid flat on my dinner table, shaking her butt at me. The tight black slacks did wonders for her admittedly tight but small ass. She just lacked the wide hips for anything more, but what she had fit her perfectly.
Annette turned to look back at me, biting her lower lip. My opinion that she could do anything more suggestive fell apart when she put both her arms behind her back and clasped her wrists.
"You do such horrible things to me," I said, crossing the distance in a step, running a hand over her clothed rear. A slight swat earned me a soft moan. Almost no give under my hand.
"Maybe I want you to do absolutely terrible things to me?" Annette did another wiggle, pressing her butt into my hand.
"I'd say I'd be surprised if not for the past two weeks." I pressed my pelvis against her, one of my hands wrapped around both of hers, and forced her flat on the table. "What was it again? The 'get well' riding." Was I playing a part still? I didn't know, but I certainly enjoyed it. How Annette acted behind closed doors was night and day to her at times haughty exterior. The things she did when I couldn't see…
"Mhm, couldn't leave my stallion feeling lame."
"I guess I couldn't leave my beautiful woman feeling ignored." A shame to let go of her arms, but I needed both of mine for this. With how tight Annette's pants were, unbuttoning them was a pain in the ass, but once I did, I tugged them and her tactful panties halfway down her thighs.
The funny part came when I bought an extra-large bottle of lube in preparation that I never ended up needing. For her pussy, at least. I think everything I read about menopause was really just a load of horseshit because that glistening slit needed nothing. Trimmed black pubes contrasted with her pale skin, laid flat with plenty of arousal.
Crack!
Annette moaned, and her bare ass wiggled with a red handprint. Sometimes it was annoying being so strong; I had to hold back constantly. The thrill of putting effort into actions left them lacking at times.
"Someone's ready. Were you thinking about this the entire time I was away?"
"Mhm, just stuff my cunt already!"
"Why would I do that when I can watch you squirm?" I asked but didn't mean it, already tugging down my shorts and boxers, exposing my half-hard cock. She went to respond, but her words left her when my cock slid between her thighs and pussy.
Slickened by her unending need and on fire from her arousal, the contrast between her pussy and thighs quickly turned my half-erect cock throbbing. Annette wasn't one to lie back and take it; instead, she flexed her thighs in a rippling motion while rocking her hips. Each gentle thrust brought forth a quiet gasp from her and a groan from me. I grabbed her arms and laid my free hand on my waist, squeezing her soft midsection through her shirt.
My cock slid across Annette's pussy, rubbing her clit before prodding her stomach. What started as a mutual foreplay shifted quite hard into her rubbing herself off. The grip on her arms and waist kept the bucking and groaning Annette flat while she did her level best to orgasm before we even started.
On her next thrust against me, I locked her in place. So she switched to rolling her hips, each ragged breath throwing locks of black hair free of her bun. "So naughty. Do your students know their stern literature teacher gives into her baser instincts? Seeks the pleasure of the flesh?" I pulled back, dragging my cock along her dripping slit, until I popped free of the prison of her thighs.
"No… no one knows…" She moaned, and a ripple of goosebumps covered her butt and thighs before retreating.
The instant I did, she shifted her entire posture, flattening her spine and jutting out her hips at me. Her mastery of her body presented itself when her outer lips unfolded from the new position, like a blossom flowering, exposing her inner parts for me to plunder. A slight shake of a scant amount of fat revealed the trembling she kept tightly constrained. She wanted my cock badly, but what was new?
I aimed the tip at her open core and lodged it tight, but not in. Warmth and wetness beckoned me to impale her to the hilt, but I resisted. There was something that went beyond pleasure, and it was of a woman quivering and bucking, trying to get my dick inside her. The sheer desire. I didn't care that she was much older than me… in fact, I welcomed it. I doubted any twenty-five-year-old woman would come close to being so… stimulating.
"William… Will, stuff my needy cunt with your cock and stretch me! Make me tremble with pleasure. Give me the ache of fullness from a penis just a little too big… Please, I need it."
"Why? Why do you need my dick in you?"
The tip stretched her wide, only the first inch inside. A full-body shiver sent Annette trembling in my grip, and a rush of liquid gushed against the tip of my cock.
"I need you… I need you to cum in me. Flood me. Pack me full of hot… sticky… thick… ugh. Please, Will, one last time, wreck my pussy and give me a reason to remember this every time I sit." Another shiver rocked her, and my cock slid further in, facing no resistance besides tight muscles rippling around the intrusion. "M-make me feel like a m-mom again!"
My already tenuous hold on my instincts snapped. I didn't know why, but she stroked a cord deep within me that sent my mind feral. My cock throbbed, and I swore Annette got tighter, but with how she moaned like a whore, at the same time, maybe I got harder and larger. I buried myself in her. A cock that fit my frame filled her, stretching her all around. So much of her clamped down while insides fit themselves to me and worked to make me release.
I could only grunt. My vision blackened, and went out of focus, my mind was entirely engrossed in the sensations surrounding my cock. My jaw ached from how tightly I clenched my mouth shut, holding in primal grunts. I didn't so much as pull back out of Annette but drew her away, using my handholds on her before slamming her back into me.
Using her.
Abusing her.
A sheath for my cock, who wanted nothing else. Wanton moans eclipsed the slapping of flesh.
Annette orgasmed. She came. But I never slowed. She struggled with her arms pinned against her back for a brief moment before descending back into a trembling mess. Each thrust squelched with the excess fluid running down her thighs.
I gripped tighter. "I'm…" was all I could force out, but she took the hint.
"Fill me! Fill me! Make me… !"
Then I hilted in Annette, melding her rear to my pelvis. My vision went white, and my ears rang. In the distance, I heard a woman scream in pleasure. Each throb sent a jet of cum and curled my body around hers, the sensation bordering on painful with how extreme it was. I pulled back a little and jammed myself back into a positively debauched squelch.
Annette quivered around my cock, shaking and gasping long past when I stopped. I let go of her, bracing myself on the table to calm myself. She took this time to weave both hands underneath her and start mauling her clit, some brief pokes of her fingernails against my cock still lodged inside her.
"D-don't move! Ah!" Annette shook again. Her hand movements between her legs turned frantic, and the contractions around my cock started again.
The sensitivity of just coming, combined with how rough we went, had me retreating without conscious thought.
"Don't you fucking dare pull out!" Annette yelled at me. Stomping as her next orgasm built, shifting some of her weight onto my cock to support her, considering her legs were bound together by her pants. "Fuck me. Fuck me. FUCK ME!"
Could I ever say no? Sensitive cock to hell, I was fucking this woman again! Her fingers danced over her clit, mauling herself with frantic movements. Then I slammed into her, clapping her cheeks against my pelvis. The sensations sent my eye twitching. Then again and again, until the pleasure overwhelmed the pain.
Then I had an idea. I slid my hand onto her lower stomach, bracing against her hipbone. With my free hand, I leaned forward and wrapped it around her neck before standing up. As it was, I lifted her off the table, letting her legs dangle, supported by three points of contact.
This time, I used her like a sex toy.
Even if I just came, I wouldn't last much longer. No one could, not with someone like Annette hanging off their dick and cumming their brains out. A fresh round of cum flooded her, draining what remained of my stamina.
I retreated a few steps and leaned my back against the wall, still holding Annette against me. More sitting on me while my hand kept her from sliding down. I pulled her head back and captured her lips while she kept up her never-ending orgasm.
Minutes after I leaned back, Annette stopped trembling, slumping against me. "So," She said, and I felt her delicate throat undulate under my hand.
"So," I repeated.
"I think I've reached enlightenment. You should be proud, fucking such a revelation into an older woman."
"I can't tell if you're joking or not, and I am mighty proud." I shifted her hips around, jostling our connection.
Annette laughed-more of a giggle, but tired. "Want to let me down, big boy?"
"I could, but are you already done with such a comfy position?"
"Mhm, for now, but I could see future applications. I wouldn't mind watching a movie in a more… casual position."
"I'll look forward to it." I squatted down a foot until her feet touched the ground. Then further, to pull my cock free of her. She wobbled at first, bracing against me while she mustered her strength to stand on her own.
Annette instantly slid her hand over her full pussy and sealed the cum inside. Instead of waddling to the bathroom, she yanked up her pants and underwear. I watched, already feeling the stirring of desire, when she removed her hand, leaving her panties to keep the cum inside her. Then the desire flared when she licked her fingers clean.
"Aren't you… going to clean up?"
She tilted her head and blinked. "Nope. I'm already running behind, and I have to pack." Her feigned confusion shifted into deviousness. "All of your cum is just going to have to wait. Deep. Inside. Me. Maybe even until tomorrow. I hope you don't mind."
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 6
AN: I wanted to say one thing, this is strictly William/Annette, not Battery or anyone else.
Beta'd by Grimtide
Chapter 6
"Field agent William McBride, do you know why you're here?" Henry asked, hands behind his back, while looking at me from the side of Lieutenant Rodriguez's office.
She sat behind her desk in full uniform, gazing over the top of her hands, forming a temple.
I sat on a too-small chair, hemmed in on all sides. The only thing I'd been doing the past week was training with Battery and expanding my knowledge about everything I could. This included buying top-of-the-line computer systems and getting a worthwhile connection.
Everything disappointed me.
As Henry called me by my full address, I was in trouble. "Excessive force." The first thing that came to mind.
"Excessive force and suspicious behavior."
"Ah, so training Battery flagged me."
Lieutenant Rodriguez snorted. "Yes, that was the final straw. I have no issues with your operating methods, with Squad 42 maintaining an immaculate record for civilian safety. But…" She didn't finish, looking at me expectantly.
"Pressure from above?" I ventured.
"Yes. As you know, your case gave the brass the initiative to clear enhanced agents for the field. Only now you're ruining it, making them look bad. It's nothing you're personally doing wrong but highlights what enhanced strength brings to the table, both pros and cons. Simple reflexes can turn deadly. Either enhanced agents need retraining or… you are swept under the rug until it's not their problem anymore." She explained to me, doing me the favor of answering instead of ordering.
"That's where I come in." Henry pushed off the wall. "I'm retiring from the field. Too old, and I pushed my luck too far. You have three choices, McBride. You join the protectorate voluntarily as a minor hero. Get retrained with public and internal scrutiny for the rest of your employment."
I scowled. Not only would I actually lose pay, but I'd be in far over my head while losing most of my tools of the trade. A death sentence. I rated one or two on a few scales, but I didn't have any ace besides honed skills. Sure, I healed fast, but that was over weeks. As strong as a squad of agents; could sprint forty miles an hour; reflexes that matched a cat; but did any of that stop a bullet from killing me?
"Or you could quit."
That turned my scowl into a frown. I had enough money to last years, but finding another job with my qualifications that wasn't a glorified bodyguard or mercenary would be difficult. Not the worst option, as I could focus on Annette and Taylor totally, but I doubted she would appreciate a man who lacked a gainful job. The curtailment of my contacts would also limit my options for vague future plans.
"And the third?" I asked.
Sergeant Henry and Lieutenant Rodriguez shared a look. Then my apparently retired squad leader spoke up. "This… suggestion came from the top. Director Piggot, exactly. A… Lieutenant?"
"Director Piggot isn't a big fan of capes, as you know. She would like… more accountability for them beyond other capes. As you are… superhuman with a foot in the protectorate door and Sergeant Henry's retirement, Squad 42 could be the first mixed squad. If you are squad leader, neither side would feel overtly stepped on, and it spreads out responsibility so thin that it wraps right back around and lands solely on your shoulders. Sparing the brass looking for augmented agents."
"Okay, I can see where this is going, but where are you going to find a cape willing to take orders from an agent?" I asked, thinking about the repercussions of this move.
Piggot would get a squad led by an agent with a cape at their back, giving a touch more credibility to her plans while loosening the reins on me and keeping me doing the work I do. The higher-ups would get to keep the dirt off their noses, and all the blame, should things go sour, would fall on my expendable head.
Henry coughed into his hand, motioning for the lieutenant to answer. She had a distinctly pinched look. "It just happens that a cape has been asking quite persistently about working with you on a more permanent basis."
Oh, no, she didn't.
"I'll remind you that relationships with coworkers are frowned upon, especially with such an age difference."
I facepalmed. She did. There was nothing I could say that would change anyone's mind. Why Battery, why?
"Do you agree to head the newly formed mixed Squad 42?"
"Yes…" There wasn't much of a choice now, was there?
Lieutenant pressed a button on her phone. "Please send Battery in now."
The door flung open, and Battery bounced in, dressed in full-cape attire with her shield strapped to her back. She snapped into a salute, only for the lieutenant to return it half-heartedly amidst Henry's chuckles.
"At ease."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
Why me?
"Battery, do you agree to join Squad 42 and follow Agent McBride's orders?"
"Yes!"
"Good. Sergeant Henry will be Squad 42's handler and go-between for the PRT and protectorate. McBride, you have two months to bring your squad to full readiness and develop your tactics. A modest discretionary fund is at your disposal with the relaxing of certain regulations."
"Ma'am, what is our mission statement?" I asked. This would change everything about how I approach my new job.
"Assault and capture. A reactionary squad for low- to mid-threat villains or forming the core of an assault operation."
Ouch, but my mind already spun up, thinking of ways to succeed without half my squad dead months in. This would rely heavily on Battery and me taking the brunt of the hits. A new suit, a heavily armored one, was key for me. At least my weight with a shield to match and maybe some high-impact weapons. Melee ones too.
That meant Battery would be my second instead of Liz, a bit of a sour note, but if I played the same formula, Battery could hang off my back and charge up while I plow forward, ready to unleash the moment she needs to. Maybe I could even throw her into battle.
I chewed on my lip and pictured us approaching a two-story building. Would I be able to throw her to the second floor? Something to test.
"Yes, Ma'am. Who is assigned to Squad 42?" I asked, hoping it would remain the same.
"Just you and Battery until you show results. The rest of 42 will have the option to join at a later date."
I stood up and saluted.
"Dismissed."
(Battery)
Five months after graduating to full-time Protectorate, Battery still felt like she floundered compared to her peers. The weight of knowing she was a fraud drove her further and harder to be the best hero she could be. She just wanted to do good, like her father.
They saddled her with Madcap… Assault. The annoying creep. An ex-villain. Everything she hated about the system dangled in front of her face every day when she tried to do her job-her dream. Already in the protectorate while she was a ward, she transferred to Brockton, and he followed. She graduated on Cauldron's orders, and he became her frequent teammate.
Battery would do anything to escape him, to feel like an actual hero instead of some girl playing pretend.
Then came that fateful operation. Information provided by a new thinker who she still had no name for. Battery traded Hanna, Miss Militia, for the job, switching her patrol at the last moment so Assault wouldn't be able to annoy Robin, Velocity, enough to switch.
It was a good thing she did switch, as they would have a dead squad of agents, or maybe more. That cape, Hikarifū, packed a hard punch and brought heavy firepower to the table.
Battery muscled down the memory of being trapped under debris, trying to charge up enough to break free, and watching the forming ball of light intent on snuffing her life out. The agent enshrined everything she held dear.
McBride, Will, saved her life twice. Sure, he was enhanced, but he went above and beyond his duty to save her and capture the criminals. Beyond what the job called for. It would've been rude not to pay respects to him, and who could blame her for getting the tiny, itsy-bitsy crush she had? She worked for the protectorate and the PRT, but the number of true heroes remained depressingly small. So when a handsome, tall, muscled man saved her life and then treated her more than some small girl without being creepy… it wasn't her fault.
The fact he was intimidating too and kept Assault away by sheer presence just added to it. Battery knew he was already taken by that hag. All she had to do was check the hospital sign-in form for her name and do some… research. So what if Annette Hebert, widow of Danny Hebert and mother of Taylor Hebert, didn't look forty? That was still fifteen years older than Will!
A harsh reality, she acknowledged. Not like a stand-up man like him would ever date her when she was so much younger, and he preferred older women, but she could dream.
Each day, Battery looked forward to the training session, even if it left her bruised and sore. Her arm throbbed with pain; bruises littered her body, but she felt like she was growing as a hero, using a tool designed to protect.
The crush faded into her dreams and fantasies after Will never gave her a second look. She was a hero, not a blushing schoolgirl!
… that didn't mean she didn't try her best to work with him on a more permanent basis. For a number of reasons…
She even called in a favor with Legend, her mentor, and privately complained… exaggerated heavily about Assault, until Legend shifted some things in the background. Now she was on a squad with Will! She cheered in her head while keeping her stern, serious exterior.
"I'd buy the act more if you weren't skipping."
'Shit!' Battery carefully calmed her pace. "What do you mean?"
Will raised a flaming eyebrow at her, showcasing the shiny scar crossing his face. Then she continued on, opening the door to an empty conference room. She slid in and took a chair. He sat down opposite her. "Alright, why did you want to be on my squad?"
Battery stared at him, trying to decide what the answer should be. She could mention Assault, but that would paint her as a helpless maiden, not a hero. Saying she had a crush was also off the table. "I want to be the best hero I can be. If that means working with agents, then so be it. Whatever it takes to save the most innocents." She nodded to herself about her impassioned speech.
Will slowly nodded, not taking his eyes off her, and she tried her best not to look down at his shifting muscles popping through his uniform. "Do you know why I'm now leading this squad?"
"No." Short and sweet, just like her.
"Excessive force. The PRT is hanging me out to dry, letting me tie the noose myself. Are you sure you want to be on this sinking ship?"
"What? Why? Is it because of the cape that almost killed us?"
"Yes."
"Did everyone deserve it?" She asked.
"It's my opinion, yes."
"Then I'm fine." No wonder there weren't any heroes left. Heroes made hard decisions in the name of good. They were not innocent, and they didn't die. That was enough for her. Her dad told her stories from his time as a detective, and the world was full of monsters. It was the duty of heroes to stand between the innocent and the monsters.
"Do you have anything scheduled?"
A soft smile erupted on her face, thinking back to her crossing out every single patrol while Assault watched in dismay. "Nope!"
(Taylor)
Summer camp… was fun. If Taylor could say such a thing and she did while not telling everything to Mom. Not everything went quite right. She didn't have any friends there, and she knew Mom tossed her away to get her out of the way and give them both space. Something happened months ago when Mom only did her job and stared off into space for weeks. Even with Emma and school, Dad dying and Mom being like that left Taylor alone and with her world collapsing.
Then Taylor was able to feel Mom's sadness and the pain each time Taylor brought up Dad. The annoyance and anger directed at her, no matter how well Mom hid it. There was still plenty of love and affection, but it was like Taylor couldn't do anything without setting off the bad feelings. So while being sent off to summer camp for two months hurt, it let her be away.
Taylor shoved the lack of Emma out of mind, having lost the connection to her even before school let out. But the last thing she felt from her former friend was sheer annoyance each time she cried. She wasn't stupid.
Her lack of control over herself had already lost her a friend. If she kept at it, she would lose Mom, too. So when Mom picked Taylor up an hour ago, she did her best to smile and be happy, not let the hurt or sadness show at the lack of Dad.
Yet there was something different about Mom. The sadness wasn't there. Even as Mom drove home, she held Taylor's hand, radiating affection and love. But the changes didn't stop there. Mom's skin glowed, and a smile was always on her face. The bags under her eyes vanished at some point, and a shine replaced the dullness. She was full of life like Taylor had never seen, even when Dad was alive.
Taylor was going to do her best to never blemish the feeling, curling around Mom's hand and arm and relaxing, silent but happy.
Mom glanced over, taking her eyes off the road, but Taylor saw the bump, and because she saw it, Mom saw it even if she didn't know so. The car slid slightly to the side and coasted right by without touching. Taylor didn't know how to drive, but Mom did.
Just another notch on the not-crazy list. At camp, there was nothing to show for what was happening to Taylor, only when she was with Mom. Many nights she spent thinking, and the conclusion she came to was being a cape. She has superpowers… that tell her mom's feelings.
Taylor thought herself cursed, but now, feeling what Mom felt about her, it made her happy. Not a hero's power, but after Dad, she wouldn't trade this for the world. She nuzzled into Mom's arm even harder.
"What did you do over the summer?" Taylor asked, having already said everything of note about the camp. She kept razor-focused on Mom's emotions, having learned the hard way that what someone says doesn't mean what they feel. Mom refused to vocalize her anger, and Emma showed how little other people mattered to her.
Mom's emotions flickered away from focusing on Taylor to something else. A whirlwind of them that started negative and then shifted almost all positive. Some that she would rather never feel from Mom, but a speck of something Taylor never expected. Love.
Taylor clamped down on the immediate rage and anger, refusing to show it to Mom. How dare she love someone other than Dad!
The emotions settled down into trepidation before Mom answered. "Well, sweety, it started pretty bad, but I worked on course lessons and went out. Then I met a friend-"
Taylor flinched at the conflicting feelings. Shame and resoluteness. The duty Mom did.
"And caught up with them. Had some fun until they were in a car accident."
That made both of them feel some conflicted things, and Taylor missed most of what Mom felt from inner turmoil.
"Then I spent the last few weeks taking care of them at their apartment. Oh, I got a new job, but it's only part-time and over the phone, so Mommy is going to be around as much as she can for the rest of vacation!"
Taylor couldn't help but beam at Mom, able to feel that she never lied. This friend of Mom's, though, was the biggest discrepancy. He wasn't a friend. The love and affection Mom felt wasn't like the love she felt for Taylor. But! She didn't lie when she said the rest of the vacation was for the two of them.
"C-can we go to some bookstores?" Taylor asked.
"Can we? I believe if you don't walk out with a new book every day, I'll be disappointed. Why don't you invite Emma, and we'll all go to the boardwalk for a day?"
"… she's not my friend anymore." Mom's instant worry made Taylor regret saying anything. She made Mom feel bad.
"What happened, Taylor? I'm sorry I wasn't a good mom." Shame and anger at herself.
"I-it's nothing! We just… grew apart, yes. You know how Emma is-always trying new things. I couldn't keep up."
"Taylor." Disapproval and more shame.
How was Taylor supposed to not make Mom feel bad? Everything she did brought up unpleasant emotions. She couldn't tell the truth, but she couldn't lie. What did Emma always do? Distract! "Uh, your friend, what's his name?"
Mom panicked but didn't show anything beyond holding Taylor's hand harder. "H-his? I never said he was a man. Why would you think that?"
Shit, Taylor swore in her head, trying to come up with a reason besides feeling her emotions. "You were smiling like some of the girls at school while talking about their boyfriends."
"Ugh, that's way too young. What are kids getting up to nowadays? I hope you aren't planning on getting a boyfriend until you're eighteen-no, twenty! Wait, do you like boys because I remember a certain thing-"
"Mom!" Taylor blushed with embarrassment, but secretly loved the teasing and deviousness she felt from Mom instead of anything else.
A beat passed. "What happened to you and Emma? That was a good try."
Taylor shot back. "Who's your friend?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me. But I suppose I could call Zoe and get the answer from her."
Uh, Taylor wanted to know but also didn't want to explain. Except that, if Mom called Zoe, Taylor wouldn't find out. Was that worth bringing up how she lost her friend by being too sad? She let go of Mom's hand and crossed her arms, definitely not pouting.
Mom laughed and then ruffled Taylor's hair. "You're too cute, sweety."
In the end, Taylor was happy because Mom was happy, yet there was the allure of pushing the connection deeper. This power, because she was sure that it was a power, wanted to go beyond what it was at right now. Yet all the stress that her power would cause Mom was too much. So she was going to… just not tell her. Yes, it wasn't a hero power, just a little power that let Taylor know what her mom was feeling. Nothing anyone needed to know.
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 7
AN: Beta'd by Grim Tide
Chapter 7
There was something to be said that my harshest critic was a thirteen-year-old girl. Everything had to go perfectly, or I would deal with a bundle of angst and resentment for years. Thinking back, I might've jumped the gun into forming a relationship with Annette-not that I regretted a moment I spent with her-but I was still subtly freaking out for weeks and searching for the quickest way to shape Taylor into a god killer.
Great returns if I succeeded, but there was also a good chance of turning her against me for the rest of my life. I got hung up on being a guy and the implications of being seen with a teenager. Something I could've avoided if I awoke as a woman instead of a man. Not that I was complaining about having a body anyone would've dreamed of having, unless they had a thing against gingers.
Just thinking about how to approach Taylor without Annette over the months gave me far more paths than I initially believed. Anything from getting a job at Winslow to becoming a flute instructor and passing out free lessons. Even solving the bullying problem she might face would leave her approachable.
Of those answers, I became her mom's boyfriend. For how smart I believed myself, I was an idiot.
Canon was already straight out of the window, with inconsistencies everywhere. ABB had five capes, four now, with the other two being just minor on the power scale. E88's roster highlighted how horrible the uphill battle we faced was. An absolute mass of capes filled out their lower ranks. At last count, when I looked through the files, there were thirty-five capes against the PRTs eleven, and that included the wards.
I stood on the precipice of both my lives. On one hand, I was taking the place of a loved father, and on the other was leading a new team, one set on being at the forefront of any battles with the gangs of Brockton. There was no telling if I would walk out on the other side of either life.
Annette said to dress to impress, but I wasn't breaking out my suit. That thing wasn't for a homemade meal. I settled for black dress pants, a striped button-up dress shirt, and an orange-red tie matching my hair. One last adjustment before affixing a welcoming smile.
I swallowed my nerves, more anxious than storming an ABB drug storehouse. Strange how life turned out.
The house hadn't changed since the last time I was here and was still slightly under-maintained, with a single blue sedan in the driveway. This was it-what I initially worked for-now sidelined for actually living after succeeding in reaching my goal.
But of everything, I was still a PRT agent, trained to storm armed gang hideouts with the potential of encountering capes and protecting civilians by any means. Fear wasn't an unknown, but a partner every time I deployed. It kept me sharp and ready. I knew how to handle the churning deep down and the screaming to run in the back of my head.
I threw the SUV door closed, purposely loudly, to let Annette know I was there. There weren't any more excuses, and waiting would only ruin my first impression.
Knock-knock. I rapped my knuckles against their front door, having climbed the stairs to the front porch while lost in thought.
Only a moment passed before the door swung open, revealing Annette in her stunning glory and a mini-her right next to her. I did a double take and blinked, finding that yes, they were both wearing opposing-themed sundresses that matched. Annette's was predominantly black with white stripes, and Taylor's the opposite. They even had their hair done in the same style. Annette's hair stood in a perfect bun without a strand out of place. Taylor, well, she tried at least. The glasses were different, and Taylor wore socks while Annette had flats on. "Just as beautiful as always, Annette."
But it wasn't so. Annette's smile strained at the sides of her lips and didn't reach her eyes, lacking the usual crinkles. Her left hand twisted her dress back and forth, wrapping the fabric around a single digit before letting it free. The quiet confidence was just gone, and her posture could only be called ramrod straight instead of graceful, with each movement appearing jerky.
Taylor wasn't much better, and against my expectations, she wasn't looking at me but at her mom with concentration and confusion.
Annette smiled at me and stepped forward to wrap me in an aborted hug. Only a light press of her body against mine under the withering glare of Taylor. Then Annette pecked me on the lips-not a kiss-and I could feel the tremors shaking her body with our contact. "It's been too long, Will. Come in." She slid around my side, keeping one arm tight around my waist, putting the both of us side-by-side, facing Taylor.
Some hesitation flickered across Taylor before she retreated to let us further into their home.
There was something wrong with Annette. Being this anxious wasn't even a consideration for my mental model of her. I would think her life or Taylor's was on the line with how she was acting.
Annette kicked the front door closed, startling me and Taylor. "Will, this is my wonderful daughter, Taylor. Taylor, this is my boyfriend, William McBride." Fingernails dug into my arm.
"Hello." I waved at Taylor, distracted by the mess I found myself in.
Taylor tilted her head back to look me in the eyes, then flicked over at Annette and then back to me. She may be tall for her age, but she was still around five feet at thirteen. "Fuck, you're big."
Uh, what? That was how Taylor greeted me?
"Taylor!" Annette snapped.
"What? He's like eight of me and three of you!" Defiant, but Taylor's eyes flickering between me and her mom told another story. What? I didn't know, but there was something.
Was I the cause of this? A foregone conclusion. Damn, it looked like me and her wouldn't be getting along.
Annette didn't even say anything this time, but I could see the look she was giving Taylor, and it promised pain once I left. "Will-" Annette started.
"Wait, how old are you? You don't look old." Taylor demanded with a pointed finger.
Annette gasped audibly with a hand covering her mouth.
"Twenty-five," I said, because anything other than the truth would only turn Taylor further against me.
"Twenty-five?" Taylor scrunched up her eyebrows, then pointed at her mom. "He's closer to my age than yours!"
How would Annette react?
A heady blush colored her cheeks, and she held onto my arm tight. "T-that h-happens sometimes. We're both experienced adults who can make informed decisions. Age is just one part of a healthy relationship, and we make up for it with compatibility."
I raised an eyebrow. That sounded more like she was convincing herself than explaining it to Taylor.
"Would you like it if I dated a twenty-seven-"
"Will, would you like something to drink?" Annette cut Taylor off, melding herself with my arm while staring into my eyes imploringly.
"Yes? Some… water would be nice."
"Taylor! Go get Will a glass of water, please."
Taylor rolled her eyes, and I caught the slight tug of her cheeks. A ghost of a smile before turning away. Yup, that was a victory stride.
"I don't know what's gotten into her lately. Ever since I picked her up from summer camp, she's been… difficult." Annette said that once Taylor disappeared into the kitchen.
I opened my mouth, and she put a finger on my lips, but the nervousness wasn't there anymore. Annette was back to how she always acted around me.
"Not like that. We haven't screamed at each other once-an almost weekly thing before. She's done all of her chores without prodding. Even makes me dinner!" Annette said, sounding more frustrated than a cooperative teenager should make a parent. "She hasn't brought up Danny once and steers around the topic. Even teased me about having a boyfriend!"
"Then what's the problem? All that sounds like she is moving on and growing up."
Fingernails dug into my arm again as Annette buried herself in the nook of my neck. She smelled nice, and I knew it was her because I don't think I could forget her rant about perfumes. "It's like she can see right through me. Every excuse and fib gets called out. Do you know what it is like to not be able to lie to my daughter? Hell!"
Oh, poor Annette, your daughter was smart. I chuckled and received a swat to the chest. A horrible impulse grabbed me. Should I? I should. "So… matching outfits?"
Her head snapped up at me. The blush she had from Taylor calling her out about our ages grew. Creeping over her face until her cheeks and ears blazed. She snapped her head away from me and went to disengage, but I caught her hand with mine.
"I, uh, did some last-minute research… and I was worried about you shoving… Taylor… aside. So the outfits were to…" And Annette trailed off.
"To show that you were a set? If I dated you, I had to take care of Taylor."
"… yes."
"Cute." I pulled Annette back to me and kissed her forehead before wrapping her in a hug. "I would never throw Taylor aside. Not only do you care so much for her, but it would be a horrible thing to do. I could never respect myself if I did such a thing."
"I know… it's…" She sighed and buried her face in my chest again. "I want the best life for… her That means a good father figure, with Danny dead. I've seen how dad problems develop… A child, I mean, a teenager, needs both parents when growing up."
How quickly the relationship progressed makes more sense now. Annette wasn't looking for someone for a fling or a relationship; she was searching for someone she could trust to help raise Taylor. It seems I wasn't the only one with ulterior motives about Taylor. Amusing. "Is that why you were so anxious? I don't mind, truly. Even if something happened to you, I'd do my best to raise Taylor as my daughter."
"You would?" The sheer hope in her voice. I'd have to have a cold, dead heart to go back on my word.
"Promise."
Annette kissed me again, but this time it wasn't a peck with pursed lips, but with warmth and affection. There was a world of difference between the two actions, and I responded in kind.
"Ah-hem. Are you done talking yet? I've been holding this glass of water forever, and it certainly looks like it."
Annette jumped and pushed me away, or rather, she pushed herself away from me. "Taylor, how much did you hear?"
Taylor raised an eyebrow and stepped to the side, pointing at the kitchen not twenty feet away, with no doors in between here and there.
"… right." A timer in the kitchen dinged. "Oh, look at the time! Taylor, why not give Will a tour of the house while I take care of dinner? Thank you, sweety." And Annette fled-I meant, made a strategic withdrawal. I did not watch her go with that swishing sundress.
"Did you actually want water?" Taylor asked.
I shrugged. "Why not?" I took the cup that vanished in my grip from her and drained it in a single sip. "Thank you."
She hummed and took the glass from me to place on a side table. "Come on, Mom told me to give you a tour." Spinning around, she pointed at the room we were in. "This is the living room. That is a tiny bathroom I don't think you will fit in. Over there is the door to the basement. You can see the kitchen and Mom running around." Then loud enough so Annette can hear. "When the smoke alarm goes off, food is done."
"Taylor!"
Taylor smiled at me after embarrassing her mom another time. "Now upstairs."
I can see the travesty that happened to this willful and snarky girl to turn her into a spiteful Skitter. That was something I couldn't allow to pass. Emma had to be a special sort of evil to destroy this girl before me. It was one thing to read about what happened, and another to see who Taylor was before it all and read about who she turned into.
Even if my plan to train Taylor into becoming a god killer fell through, I think just saving her from the fate of turning into Skitter was enough to make all this worthwhile. I followed her up the groaning stairs, squealing their protest at my passing. The ceiling hung low enough that I had to duck part way up.
Taylor pointed at the first closed door at the top of the stairs. "That's Mom's room. If you go in there looking for books, she will chase you with her slippers. No one is allowed in there. Trust me."
"Okay." I couldn't keep the amusement out of my voice. "But maybe those books aren't appropriate for you." I would know. I looked through them all. Bodice rippers weren't for the eyes of someone so young.
She rolled her eyes at me. "I know. That's the point. Closet, bathroom."
I peeked into the bathroom and balked. A shiver ran down my spine. That was a women's bathroom, and there was hair everywhere. Not a bit of counter space remained clear, with a mystifying amount of bottles and beauty products. Yikes.
The last door on the second floor remained shut, with Taylor holding the doorknob. "And this is my room." She threw it open, and the expected mess just wasn't there. I didn't see clothes strewn over the floor or books piled high. Even the carpet still had streaks from when it was vacuumed.
"Annette made you clean, and you're showing it off."
"T-that isn't it!" Taylor denied it with crossed arms.
"Oh?" And then two tiny hands shoved against my back, trying to push me forward. Only there was a little problem; Taylor couldn't move me even if I didn't resist. So I let her push me into her room, where she closed her door.
I glanced around, spotting the occasional hero poster with Armsmaster and Alexandria displayed. In a few years, I bet there will be a Narwhal poster joining them. And now that I had a full view, she just cleaned her room, guaranteed. I turned around to face Taylor, and gone was the happy-go-lucky girl, and in her place was a mini-Annette, facial expression and pose matching exactly. Ah, too cute. I wish I had a camera.
"You mean a lot to Mom. More than I'm happy to admit, so if you dare hurt her, you will have to deal with me." She stomped her foot.
Must resist ruffling her hair. This went beyond cute and into adorable territory. "I promise I won't hurt Annette."
Taylor squinted at me with narrowed eyes, holding the expressions as if she could detect deceit just by looking for an uncomfortably long period. "Good! Mom has been puking in the morning and refuses to go to the doctor. It's your job, as her boyfriend, to look out for her health. She is the only person I have left, and I refuse to lose her. If you take care of her and do your duty, then I will tolerate you just because you make her happy. Understood?" Taylor held out her hand for a handshake.
"Yes, I will do my best to ensure Annette is happy and taken care of." I grabbed Taylor's hand and gave it a good shake, trying to not crush her while squeezing enough to let her know I intended to follow through. Though I doubted I needed to do anything with Annette, as if it were serious, she would've said something to me, but it was best to follow through if only to reassure Taylor.
Taylor's head snapped back as if I punched her, and she blinked a few times.
"Are you okay?"
A jerky and abrupt nod. Taylor yanked back her hand and opened the door out of her room. "… yes. I'll be down when dinner is ready. Please tell Mom to go to the doctor."
I knew a dismissal when I heard one but something was up with Taylor, and I regarded her before she closed the door, looking for anything obvious. Except her movements suddenly turned stilted under my scrutiny when I knew it wasn't obvious. Then she tried to go back to her casual aloofness, but she was trying too hard and appeared fake. The grabbing of her hair in frustration, just like her mother, made her even more suspicious.
"Go!" Taylor yelled at me and slammed the door in my face.
Huh, teenagers. At least I think I salvaged the first encounter into something better. If Taylor trusted me to ensure Annette was healthy, then that was good. Or maybe it was a test to see if I would follow her idea. Good thing I already planned on doing so.
I shook my head at the antics taking place, knowing that my simpler life would inevitably become more busy the closer I got to Annette and Taylor. Even if I couldn't stomach turning Taylor into a god-slayer, not all was lost. There was a person who set off the end of the world, Jack Slash. If he died, and maybe I was the best bet at killing him, then I or Cauldron would have decades to figure out a solution.
The possibility that Jack Slash and Slaughterhouse 9 differed from the canon equivalent was best ignored until I did some research. Yet the chance they were buzzed in my head, sparking a seed of doubt. Should I try to spread the information? No, if I did, Taylor's name would come up, and their modus operandi guaranteed them to do something I wouldn't like.
I slipped down the stairs, doing my best to avoid making the wood scream from my passing, and failed horribly. This wasn't a house I could live in, not without massive renovations.
Annette busied herself in the kitchen, flitting around assorted pans, stirring or checking the food she cooked. From the heady aroma permeating the first floor, it was a spaghetti dinner. Solid choice while being filling enough for me without seeming like she was cooking for six. Soft hums filled the air, familiar from the two weeks she spent taking care of me. I slid up behind her after watching her pattern to avoid catching her at the wrong time, and I hugged her from behind. One hand landed on her stomach, and the other was right below her breasts.
I leaned down and kissed her neck.
She wiggled into me, tilting her head away to expose more of her neck.
"EWWW!" Taylor's scream echoed through the house.
We both froze, turning in sync to look at the stairs and found them empty. That was weird. "Uh."
"She probably saw a spider." Annette said, even if there wasn't any conviction.
"Right."
Annette placed her hand over mine on her stomach, keeping her neck exposed. I went back to my previous actions, showering her with some reassuring affection while she absently stirred a pot of sauce and meatballs. "Are you two getting along?" She asked.
I broke contact with my lips. "Yes, we are. Though she mentioned something about chasing her with a slipper for going into your room, is it also off-limits to me too?" I teased.
Ah, that was a pleasant laugh. "The brat had all my books spread out over my bed and was digging through my closet for more! Last time she did that, I had to clean it up."
"Not worried about more adult books?"
"Catching her when she gets to the spicy part with a camera is one of my life's goals. Trying to stop her is just a waste of effort-if she wants to find out what's inside, she will. Even if it means sneaking out and buying one at a bookstore."
"Ah, blackmail."
"Yes, blackmail."
"She did bring up how she saw you puking in the morning and not visiting a doctor. It's pretty sweet of her, but you left her a touch worried."
Annette sighed, her hand pressing mine into her stomach a touch harder. "I've seen a doctor, and it's complicated. Once Taylor is asleep, I'll tell you. I just don't want her to overhear. Not yet."
"Ah, okay. Does this have to do with you moving up my meeting with her?"
"Sometimes I wish you were a little less observant. Could I convince you I had an itch that was being satisfied for a few months and now isn't?" She did a little half-hearted wiggle against me, but that didn't convince me at all.
"Maybe if you started with it."
"Next time, then. Could you be a dear and set the table?" Ah, Annette employed the perfect deflection. I still had much to learn.
"It'd be my pleasure." Now, where were the dishes? Ah, I get it now. Annette was amusing herself watching me stumble around an unfamiliar kitchen. She does love getting her payback, the minx, and I did laugh at her fumbling around in my kitchen.
A struggle it was, with more than a fair share of laughs and giggles coming from Annette as she sent me on a journey around her kitchen, but the table ended up set with two glasses of wine before dinner finished cooking. Close, but I won out in the end.
And a kiss to show the laughs was in good jest. "Could you get Taylor?"
"I suppose." I gave Annette a swat on her butt before leaving. And back up those stairs, I hoped they wouldn't give way on me.
An aborted scream came from Taylor's room the moment I rapped my knuckles on her door. "What?" She asked.
"Dinner's ready."
"O-okay."
And now, back down. I crossed my fingers and kept close to the wall. Whatever was up with Taylor wasn't my problem, not yet. Doing anything besides being cordial would just be overstepping boundaries. Though it was absolutely a ploy by Annette to get the both of us used to each other. A little on the nose, and I already made my promise, but I could see why from her perspective.
I took my seat at the table, knowing full well that Annette despised anyone interfering with her cooking. That's why I waited until she was only stirring to hug her. If I dared touch a plate while she was portioning, I'd get my hand slapped at best and worst by a saucy ladle. It's fun when the retaliation continues to escalate until we forget about dinner, but I wouldn't dare with Taylor around. Damn, having kids was a real party pooper.
Taylor slinked down and settled into the chair opposite me, refusing to glance up from the table, her cheeks glowing rosy pink. I wondered if she spotted us in a compromised position, but that would mean I was losing my touch if she could sneak up on me on that staircase.
Case in point: I leaned back without checking right as Annette slid my bowl before me. Calling it a bowl was a touch of a misnomer, being a foot across and inches deep. If I had to guess, it was a salad bowl, now piled high with spaghetti, meatballs, and sauce. A second plate held the stack of garlic bread. Steam wafted off my dish, carrying the delicious smell with it.
Before Annette could scoot away, I caught her by the waist. I smiled up at her and nodded. "Thank you, Annette."
She smiled back and slipped free. Taylor's dish followed before Annette served herself, settling down between her daughter and me.
"Are you ready for school?" I asked, and the three of us were mostly eating in silence up until then. This was the time to see if Taylor was going to Winslow or Arcadia.
Taylor shoveled her mouth full and mumbled something, still not looking away from her plate. I caught Annette's disapproving look, but no chastisement followed. "Taylor decided to go to Winslow to be with her ex-friend. Who would want to go to Winslow of all schools? I don't know."
I made a show of distaste. "Winslow… doesn't have the most stellar reputation." I filed away the fact that Emma was already an ex-friend at this point, and Taylor didn't speak up to refute the matter. So it was a good thing I got involved, with canon already as far down the drain as I expected.
"No. No, it doesn't."
"What about Arcadia? The wards and New Wave kids go there."
"Well, my daughter already passed the entrance exams but decided against going."
"Mom, you know it won't work," Taylor spoke up for the first time. "Without… Dad to drive me…"
"Hush, anything can work if we put our minds to it." Annette purposefully turned toward me.
I guess it was my time to shine, and if I could avoid the entire Taylor, Emma, and Sophia drama, that'd be great. But had Sophia already gone so far down the path that there was no turning her back? She was twelve to fourteen. Hm, I would have to look into her and see what happened that turned someone so violent. "I wouldn't mind driving Taylor to school when I can, but I have… unusual hours. On off days, I'll cover bus fare or even pay for a taxi."
Annette hummed with her pleased smile, turning to Taylor and intently staring her down. No wonder they used to have weekly screaming matches.
"Fine. I'll go to Arcadia." Taylor shifted, and I knew exactly what was coming next. A change of subject. "What's your job?"
Ah, time to lie, then. Maybe one day I would share my actual job with them, but for now I was a lowly analytic. "I'm a PRT analyst. It's my job to provide information for questions so those who make the decisions can make an informed one. Most days I spend going over incoming data and parsing it. From capes to which school produces the most gang members."
Taylor's eyes go wide. The residual blush drained from her cheeks, leaving pale skin. "Oh."
That was a weird reaction. I'd have to think about why she was acting like she was. Then my work phone went off. "Sorry, but I have to take this." I stood up and answered my phone across the house. "Agent McBride speaking."
"A situation has come up. Form up Squad 42 and be ready for deployment in two hours."
Shit.
Last edited: Jan 10, 2024
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 8
AN: Beta'd by Grim Tide
Chapter 8
Captain Henry intercepted me halfway to Squad 42's locker room. A clipboard tucked against his office attire and a steaming mug of coffee in the other, with a heady frown already affixed. Instead of stopping to talk, he matched my pace.
"Sir," I greeted him.
"Agent McBride." Gruff and tired, old folks like him don't like being up past six.
"Too old for this shit?"
Henry grunted. "Not yet. Still got a spark left, and the wife's happy I won't come home banged around anymore. Mornin's already a pain in the ass. 'Sides, you damn babies need someone to ride herd."
"Right. Is the rest of the squad forming?" Liz wouldn't be back for a month at the latest, but the rest escaped my immediate knowledge, having spent most of my time training and theorizing with Battery.
"Butch is out. Dave just came out of plastic surgery this morning down in New York, and Tod and Jerry are filling in other squads."
"It's just Battery and me then."
"Just the two of you. Up top is treating you like a full squad for deployment."
"Fuckers." Two instead of six bodies. Just because I was enhanced and Battery was a cape changed little in many situations. Just like that, they were forcing us to ignore standard procedure. Malicious or deliberate? Did it matter in the end when the results were the same?
Henry snorted, nodding at the locker room door for me to open. I rolled my eyes, but did so, following him a step behind. No longer filled with jeering comments and good-natured ribbing, the lack of life raised my hackles. I already had a bad feeling about this assignment, but that interaction made it worse.
Plenty of thoughts clouded my head before all this. Something was up with Annette and her daughter. I had plenty of time to mull over the conversation and hints I initially overlooked. And well, the two answers I came up with for Annette were equally unfortunate. The first and most unlikely, considering the medical notes she kept by her bed, was that she was pregnant. I didn't want to even consider the implications or cascade effects that would have on Taylor and me, much less Annette.
So I shoved that aside, leaving me with the sour note of Annette's potential demise. Either she had a poor diagnosis or something else was going on that I missed the pieces for. I debated doing another break-in and searching for information, but that felt wrong on a deeply personal level. It was one thing to do so for a mission and gathering information, but another to invade the private life of a woman I grew to care exceptionally about.
I laughed at myself in the privacy of my mind, pointing out that if Annette died, that would be everything I wanted because I'd be taking over raising Taylor. Yet, that was the last thing I wanted. Even considering that had me gritting my teeth in disgust.
If her life truly depended on it, then I would do whatever it took to ensure her survival. Even if it meant making a deal with Cauldron for a power vial for her.
Then there was Taylor. She was… nothing like I expected. The way she reacted, shifting the atmosphere to better comfort her mom, reeked of a manipulator. Something I knew she wasn't with how blatant her actions stood out. Amateurish, yet reading the situation better than many adults. I just didn't know what it could be, with the lowest possibility being that she already had a power. That jump when we shook hands wasn't a natural reaction, adding that she didn't take her hand away instantly.
What was it that Annette said? It's like she can see right through me. Every excuse and fib gets called out.
Ugh. She's never going to trust me because I work at the PRT, and she's notoriously independent and stubborn. It was still funny how close mother and daughter were to how they acted.
I threw my duffle bag into my slight cubby, already stripping out of my clothes. Say what you would about the PRT, but the bodysuit and armor kept agents alive. "Lay it out. Why was I called in so late?" Down to my boxer briefs, I pulled out my bodysuit.
"We're still waiting on Battery. No way in hell am I going over it twice."
"Eta?"
"She's still bunking over the rainbow bridge. Any moment now."
The side door swung open and Battery stormed in. "Sorry! No one wanted to give me a riiiidddeee-"
I turned and gave her a half-wave, finding her frozen two steps in the room.
Henry cackled off to the side, slapping his knee. "Damn, McBride, get some clothes on. I want a two-person squad, not you going out there lone ranger style!"
"Giddy up?" I tilted my invisible hat. "Oh, hey Battery."
Battery spun on her heel and stalwartly faced the blank wall. "H-hi Will."
Sometimes it's easy to forget that not everyone changes in a mixed-gender setting. I'd rather not send the wrong messages with her little crush, so I set to work, making myself decent a little faster than normal.
"Alright. So our little resident thinker, the same one that sent us into that clusterfuck, dropped another bomb on us-free of charge."
I shoved my feet into the body suit as the material compressed downward, both isolative and wicking, all at once. "Did you ever check their last report?" I asked.
"Damn right, I did. Everything lined up exactly. The problem came from what was missing. What they say is fact, but everything else is in the air. No Lung or Oni Lee doesn't mean no capes. What we got this time are gang initiations. An entire fuckload of them and their general location." Henry messed around with the TV before a map of Brockton showed up.
Fifteen red circles spread out around the city. I did a quick check and saw Annette's house was, thankfully, not in any of the zones. "Which gang?"
"Unknown, but make a guess."
"E88." I resisted the urge to spit on the ground in disgust.
"Gang initiation?" Battery asked, having mustered up the courage to turn around. "I've only heard a little."
"Right, you're a newbie and a young'n. Every three to six months, E88 does an initiation to induct new recruits into the gang proper. The most vile shit I ever had the unfortunate pleasure to witness. We never get there in time, only finding what's left over the next day." Agents never had the luxury of being a couple of steps detached. It was one thing to hear a sanitized version on the news and another to canvass a scene. There were some good reasons why no Empire sympathizers existed in our ranks compared to other districts. Until the ABB formed around Lung against their will, by far the worst crimes led right back to the Empire.
This marked the eighth month since the last. The difference this time was a little problem called Lung. I checked the map again, and the targeted areas avoided any ABB-claimed territory. The few fights the Empire had against him resulted in a few minor cape deaths and hordes of gangbangers turned to ash. Fucking cowards, why can't they just finish each other off?
I clenched my hands. Knuckles snapped one after another. Horrible memories rose to the surface of atrocities I'd not wish on the worst. All in the name of blackmailing the newly inducted gangbangers. Weed out the weak-willed while numbing those joining. It was another notch against the PRT for allowing it to continue for so long. "ROE?" I asked through gritted teeth, meeting Henry's eyes.
He gave me a bloodthirsty look in return. "Nonlethal, unless an immediate threat is posed to civilians and law enforcement."
I returned the grin, knowing the E88's MO. Kidnapping landed under immediate threat. "Capes?"
Henry shrugged. A level of deniability for both of us. But usually only the worst Empire capes participated in the initiations. Hookwolf was infamous for pitting abducted men against each other in fights to the death before leaving the winner to his dogs. A kill order should've landed on him years ago.
But the lack of orders on restraint was even better; it was time to trim down the hate by a few notches. Well, it looked like I was about to take another leave of absence-fuck, Battery. She was not ready for this, yet orders were orders. This was her job, her life. It would do no one any favors by shielding her from the harsh reality. Knowing what happens and facing the truth, enacting it with your own two hands stood leagues apart.
Wards, even Brockton's, never faced a situation where killing was the primary tactic or witnessed the genuine horrors existing just below the veneer of civilization. At six months into her Protectorate job, I doubted they threw her into the deep end yet. But now that she asked to be on my squad, the anvil to the hammer of seasoned capes, the kiddy gloves came off.
"How many squads are we sending out?" I asked, still studying the fifteen red circles. All but one eclipsed poor sections of the city. The last strayed into unofficial E88 territory. So someone pissed a person off in the Empire.
"Twenty-five. Five with cape support, including you." Henry clicked another button, and ten circles turned yellow and another five green. Each labeled with the squad assigned there and the cape. The areas that a cape was assigned to had a squad in support. Those without capes had two squads.
Of course, Armsmaster took the high-class area. Then I focused on squad 42, by its lonesome, surrounded by the five unsupported squads in the train yard and docks. "What support are we looking at?" Because if I read that map right, command considered us a full squad with cape support. Two people as a full squad with a supporting cape. Dammit.
I had thought about going lethal, but now there wasn't a choice.
"Nothing firepower-related. We'll be calling in the situation after everything's in motion. Auxiliary staff are following you out but will only go in after the coast is clear. We can't afford to tip the Empire off, and you know how the local police are."
At worst, a third of the force had minor ties to the Empire. A tingle of fear worked its way up my spine. It was me and Battery against a variable army with unknown cape support.
This had the potential to be a major win for the PRT, with them deploying every available field squad. They couldn't risk a fuckup or a leak.
The first time we headed off an initiation, we might even put a stop to them for good.
I turned away from Henry, looking right into Battery's mask. "Armor up; we're stepping into hell, and I'll be damned if we don't walk out the other side."
The van rocked after hitting a pothole, causing the taxed shocks to rock for a second after impact. A distinct scent of cleaning solution combined with the mix of old and new parts told a story of what the vehicle's gone through.
My rifle, an antiquated M4 carbine straight from military surplus, rested under my right arm, clipped into the central console. A vertical foregrip and red dot sight, with a flashlight underneath, encompassed the accessories I tacked on. The trigger guard had to be removed to fit my armored fingers. Across my chest, an infrequently used ammo rig added another layer to the half-dozen, with ten magazines sticking out wherever I could fit them. Nine loaded with frangible rounds, designed to not over-penetrate, and one mag of armor piercing.
No shield this time. Not without dedicated support.
Faint tremors twitched my arms while I was driving. Nothing could steady my heart or the fear of dying. There was every chance I wouldn't see Annette again. If only I had a picture of her to reassure myself. "Do you know what we are facing? Truly?" I asked.
Battery shifted in the passenger set, no longer just wearing a bodysuit of her costume, but had the lightest agent armor set we had in storage. An additional plate carrier gave some extra protection to her chest, and a level IIIA helmet covered much of her head. Not perfect, but it would stop most rounds from killing her.
This wasn't new, having spent weeks trying out new sets of equipment and searching for the sweet spot. Being on a squad meant lethal force was used against her, whereas capes rarely fought to the death. Just as agents turned vindictive against those who killed other agents, capes did the same, but it was far more likely that Armsmaster or Miss Militia would guarantee the offender actually died.
"An Empire initiation."
"They kill, they rape, they torture. We're lucky they avoid kids, mostly. Asian, Black, Hispanic, or even White if you snubbed them. I'm going in lethal. If they surrender or run, fine. If you don't want to, fine. They will shoot at you, and they will try to kill you. I refuse to let this stain persist and ruin more lives. Take a moment and think. Decide how you're going to operate and hold on to it." The steering wheel creaked under my grip, the entire thing bending under the pressure.
"Heroes have to make hard decisions. That's why they're heroes. I want to be a hero-to make the world better. Even if it means killing." Battery started a bit soft but turned resolute by the end, her conviction leaking into her voice.
I reached over and clasped a hand on her armored shoulder. "Trust me, you're already one. A better hero than most."
"McBride, copy?" Henry's voice echoed through the squad communications.
"Copy."
"Reports of an officer down and another under fire three blocks from you on 45th. Ten plus hostiles with hostages."
"On route, over." I said this before cracking the window and listening. Slight pops echoed throughout the night. "You got that?"
Battery nodded her head.
"Get the hostages out. I'll handle the grunts."
"Yes, sir!" A blue glow emanated from her suit, a telltale sign of her power charging up. From our testing, she could hold a ten-second charge that would boost her for twenty. Her shield rested in her lap and snapped onto her left arm. A shame she lacked any other weapons, but there was a line to not cross, at least not yet. If not for the Nazi twins, she would make a perfect valkyrie if given a battle axe or sword.
"Take off the door if you need to." Not my van, not my problem. Maintenance had put this thing back together at least a half-dozen times already. What was one more time?
I turned onto the target street and pushed the accelerator to the floor; the engine revved hard. Headlights illuminated the world around us and the barren streets. The flashing blue glow of the police lights rapidly approached. I let go of the steering wheel, jamming my knees tight to steer while I flicked on the van's emergency lights.
"Engaging." I radioed Henry to keep him up-to-date.
It took some finagling to slip the strap on the M4 around my back while driving, but I did. I yanked my rifle free and into my hands. Red dot active, safety off, with a round loaded. Seat belt unlocked.
Five seconds out, at least. "Give'm hell." I told Battery.
How I would enter the scene puzzled me. Speed was number one, so parking or slowing to a reasonable stop wasn't in the books. Being outnumbered meant slowing down would give them too much time to prepare, not to mention it would leave Battery hanging.
Should I?
Could I?
This was a move for an action movie, and I wished I could witness it from the outside.
Right before we passed the flashing and abandoned cop car riddled with bullet holes, the officers were nowhere to be seen. The passenger door of my van vanished in a blue blur, and Battery vanished, out to do her duty. Just as I was about to do mine, no matter the personal risk.
A dozen people, armed with rifles and other weapons, stood outside an old apartment building. Seven wore the black and red colors of the Empire, with the other five distinctly lacking. The seven actual gangbangers wielded an assortment of pistols and rifles between the ages of twenty and forty. While the initiates carried mostly pistols, with one holding a wooden bat.
Among them were five black hostages. Three guys, two women, one of whom was a teenager. Three hostages, as a blur passed by taking both women. The front entrance door lay shattered on the sidewalk, and flashing fire alarms illuminated the windows up to the fifth floor of the brick building. Surprisingly, they worked, given the state of the neighborhood. Trash bags and rusted-out cars littered the sides of the streets.
They turned to stare at my van flying down the street.
I pulled right and then left hard before triggering the emergency brake.
Tires squealed, and the heavy weight of the van pulled the entire thing into a spin, threatening to send it over onto its side. I shoved the door open with my considerable strength, stepping out with my rifle in hand while still at speed.
Enhanced reaction speed and mental processing gave me the edge in calculating the right angle to lean, pitting my inertia and traction against each other. I reached out, my left hand armored in a thick glove, brushing against the tarmac while I skidded backwards on bent knees until I slowed enough to bring myself upright without falling. The stench of burning rubber permeated the night. A mix of tire and boot.
Once I did slow enough, I grabbed the foregrip of my M4, bringing my rifle up, training my sights on the first gangbanger with his AK pointed in my direction. "PRT! On the ground!" I bellowed.
The gangbanger's rifle came up, and I pulled the trigger.
Bang! A geyser of blood erupted from my target's chest.
I stepped forward, scanning my slowly reacting targets for who was next.
"PRT!" Someone yelled.
"Cape!"
A blue blur passed again, and two more hostages vanished. The red dot of sight settled on the next threat. A young teenager swung his pistol up at me. Fear contorted his face so far out of his depth.
Bang!
A hole punched its way through his torso, dead center mass. I took another step, sighting in the next threat.
"Kill the fucker!"
The other teenager dropped his gun, turning to run. I skipped over him and went to a middle-aged man without hair. He raised his pistol against the last hostage's head.
Battery's blue blur passed, and he was missing his hand along with the hostage.
Bang!
Step.
They stopped being people and became threats and non-threats. Each person received a rank from highest danger to myself to lowest. The higher they were, the quicker I put a bead on them and pulled the trigger, one after another. Their screaming, partially in pain and anger, went in one ear and out the other.
Considering how they were milling around in front of the apartment building after driving off the unfortunate police officers who stumbled upon them, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. The only thing I felt with each pull of the trigger was the recoil. No matter how they scrambled for cover, they left themselves without an easy way to escape me.
Unable to keep up, one raised his rifle at me before I took him down. Even as I fired a shot at another skinhead, I sidestepped out of the direct path of the barrel.
A muzzle flash and the whizz of a bullet passed right by me. I hoped that the occupants of the apartment building behind me evacuated in time. They had plenty of warning.
The person firing at me never stopped-using a fully automatic rifle. Too bad they blinded themselves in this poor lighting, as I kept sidestepping far outside the area they hosed down with bullets. I ignored them for now, taking out the rest of the real Empire members, leaving five standing. The remaining initiates took off running, fleeing the fight.
Mr. Spray ran out of ammo seconds after he started firing-the folly of automatic rifles in the hands of amateurs. I took my time aiming at him while he fumbled around with his magazine before putting a bullet straight through his chest.
Eight bullets and eight gangbangers laid the ground. They moaned and groaned while their life trickled out onto the pavement-their vital organs turned to mush. I doubted any would survive even with treatment.
Then there were those fleeing. I was supposed to let them go, but a cold rage howled in my ears. The drumbeat of war. It screamed for violence-to punish those destroying the innocent. A moment passed while I considered shooting them in their backs before my cooler side muscled in.
I flicked on my safety and spun my rifle around on the sling to land on my back and I took off in pursuit. "Eight hostiles neutralized. Five hostages rescued with heavy potential injuries." I didn't add that those injuries came from Battery saving them. "In pursuit of runners."
"Copy that, McBride. Auxiliary heading in, ETA three minutes."
The first runner turned back with wide eyes, throwing up his empty hands to cushion the coming blow. I shoulder-checked him into a car and kept sprinting down the street. Tinkling glass and a body thumped onto the ground.
"Battery, report!"
As if taking the queue from his fallen comrade, the second runner turned to face me, bringing up their baseball bat to swing at me. How… presumptuous of him. I caught the wooden bat with my left hand and slugged him in the jaw, sending him to the ground bonelessly.
A quick glance around me, and I didn't spot the other two. "Fuck." I grabbed number two by the back of his hoodie and went back the way I came, dragging him along.
"Battery! Acknowledge!" Another attempt to contact my partner. With its failure, worry grew.
I grabbed the first guy; his face was a mess of cuts. Then his hand flashed out with a knife, skidding off my armored core. I threw him on the ground and dropped guy number two before wrenching his arms around to pry the knife away and handcuff him. "Surrender!"
"You fucking race-" His voice cracked halfway through screaming at me.
I slapped him with the back of my hand, and he shut up, though that might be because he was unconscious. The teenager's head lulled to the side.
"Battery!"
"H-hostage in critical condition!"
"Roger, location?"
"First-floor apartment, second door on right."
"Hostiles?"
"N-neutralized."
"On route, all hostiles neutralized. Henry, got that?"
"Acknowledged. Report."
"Alfa-too-fower-too-mike-green-green." Alfa, as in the first on scene, two members, Squad 42, mike for McBride, and my condition was green for mental and green for physical. Simple and easy to rattle off, but also gave command a read on agents in the field, yet just complicated enough that masters and strangers wouldn't be able to repeat quickly. Blue and black indicated some sort of mental mastery while retaining some control.
"Alfa-too-fower-too-bravo-orange-green." Battery repeated her status a moment later, a slight tremor rocking her voice.
I swore in my head and double-timed it back to the massacre I left behind, dragging along my two suspects. The scene was just as horrifying as I imagined it would be. My van still rumbled where it sat forty feet down the street, but instead of the burning rubber smell, it was blood clogging the air. That and shit.
The smell of death.
Neither of the idiots resisted me when I handcuffed them together around a street lamp. Then I drew my rifle, switching mags to a fresh one and flipping the fire selector to auto. Even if Battery said no hostiles, I would be an idiot not to go in ready.
I circled the area of death. A few of the lesser injured tried to crawl away, but only made it a dozen or so feet, leaving streaks of blood before collapsing. One deep breath, and I stepped into the entryway, scanning for hostiles.
A few bags of trash littered the hallway, and the floor had the baked-on-grime look of never being washed in years. Definitely ghetto-esque and why they targeted this area. No one cared about these people; they were only a hair's breadth away from homelessness. The first two doors remained untouched and closed, showing this hit was planned well in advance.
I rapped my knuckles on the second door frame, empty of the door, with the wood splintered on the ground. "Battery?"
Listening in, I could hear labored breathing and grunts. Sharp hisses punctuated squelching. Fuck it, I was going in.
I turned the corner with my finger on the trigger, and I wasn't expecting what I saw. The back wall dripped with splattered blood and brain matter. Little splinters of skull papered the gypsum board like grenade shrapnel, and some remained sticking out. A shield I'd grown familiar with stuck halfway out of the wall in the center of the gore. The blue circuit design dripped with blood.
Battery stood over a naked Black woman, giving her chest compressions-only that I could see her open eyes, and there wasn't any life left. Battery leaned down and breathed out into the corpse's mouth before returning, counting off the beats. To the left, a headless corpse slumped over, a pool of red blood forming from the stump with a distinct body part still hanging out of his pants. But it wasn't just any body; that was a cape.
Großer Schub, a minor Empire cape, was able to jump six inches in any direction. Invulnerable while jumping and able to exert thousands of pounds of pressure. He always took pleasure in jumping through people, splattering them. The dead woman's lower body told a story of other uses the cape found for his power.
I lowered my rifle and went up to the woman, holding my finger against her neck. There was no heartbeat, and her skin had already started cooling. Blood pooled on the table and dripped from the edges-more than any person could survive through. "Battery, she's dead."
"No! She's still alive! She was when I started!" Battery continued giving chest compressions, but I could hear bones cracking under the force.
"One civilian casualty: resuscitation failed. Calling time of death at 23:41." I turned to the dead cape, unsure of the right response. This would tank Battery's career as a hero. It was one thing for a cape to accidentally kill another, but for her to lash out, the Empire wouldn't let it stand. Too bad we had cameras on our helmets. "An Empire cape KIA."
"Copy. Squads 28 and 31 are under heavy opposition. Hookwolf is on the field, and Battery is the closest cape. Move it, McBride; auxiliary can clean up."
That was the squad Tod subbed in on, and I had more than my share of revenge waiting to be served out. The scar crossing my face tingled at the memory. "Yes, sir." Then I turned to Battery. "Stop; we need to move."
She ignored me.
I took her shoulder and shoved her away, putting myself between her and the woman on the table. Blue sparks crossed her body.
Smack!
Battery reeled away, her hand snapping up to her cheek.
"Get your head in the game. We can mourn later. Squads 28 and 31 need backup. Save the living; the dead can wait."
"O-okay." Battery hunched over, her eyes still locked on the woman who died under her hands.
"Report on where you put the hostages. We're moving."
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 9
AN: The chapter turned out longer than intended, but I would rather not split a single scene between the two. So enjoy the longer chapter!
Beta'd by Grim Tide
Chapter 9
We won, but at a cost.
Three agents died, over a dozen critically wounded and dozens wounded out of 144 deployed. By all standards of the term, decimated. Over a twenty-five percent casualty rate, and most military units couldn't sustain such losses. Highlighting how high the standards were for agents, the crème of the crop, and a dying breed.
John, Rick, and Phil. Three more names added to the extensive plaque wall or should I call it a hall at this point? Good guys, from what I heard, but I never interacted with them beyond exercises. I could only take comfort in knowing that they were smart enough to avoid attachments. No wives, girlfriends, or children. Most acted like Liz and Dave-short, shallow flings.
The kicker? All the deaths and critical injuries came from capes. Agents wore frankly ridiculous amounts of armor unsuited for extended combat operations in the faint hope of surviving indiscriminate destruction. That armor nullified basic ballistic attacks until they were only a serious threat rather than mortal-plenty of broken bones and internal bleeding, but that was far better than a bullet wound.
Pistols and standard assault rifles didn't cut it. There was shit out there that could single-handedly kill an agent in one shot, but that was an escalation the government couldn't allow. The army still existed for a reason, and it wasn't for protection against other countries.
Battery and I hitched a ride back in Squad 28's van, her blood-stained shield taking a seat of its own. They had plenty of room… Hookwolf never left the field without a cost. None died, thankfully, but they caught a different ride back in an ambulance. I ran my hand over Battery's back with her hunched over, burying her masked face in her hands. Quiet sobs left her while the rest of the agents sat in silence. She earned their respect many times over. Brother in arms, fighting in the dirt and blood.
A stench filled the van, partially mental and physical. It was a bittersweet victory, truly pyrrhic for us agents. There were thousands of gangbangers, but only hundreds of us. Years of training compared to weeks at most. Any idiot handed a gun could replace those we took down, with the true loss coming from the capes killed. If it cost an agent's life, we weren't happy. So even with the four of us, the atmosphere remained bitter. Then mix in the sour body odor combined with blood, and they match. Unpleasant to the core.
I shifted in my armor, trying to find a comfortable position for my bruised body. A litany of deep divots coated the outer shell, with my magazine harness long torn off. Some from bullets, but most from Hookwolf. The beast took great offense to me ramming my van into him.
Even though I wasn't physically tired at two in the morning, my eyes drifted closed. The stress and adrenaline take their own toll on my brain. A quick rest.
Then I was awake again, hand-snapping to my sidearm before relaxing. "Get cleaned up, McBride. You smell like shit." A familiar face with dark bags under his eyes. The edge of the armored door was placed just right so that it would give him enough time to hide behind should the startle prove too much for me.
Cool night air replaced the stuffy interior from the open rear door. The sound of an active garage pinned the location under the PRTHQ, right back to where we deployed from, just missing a few vans and agents.
Anything positive washed away, leaving me scowling. "Yeah. You came all the way down here just for me?" I straightened out and rolled my stiff muscles. The other two troopers were gone, but Battery snoozed in her seat. Henry stood out of the back door with three cups. Steam billowing out of them, replacing the stench with something more pleasing. Coffee, the magnificent bastard.
"Quicker I get you cleaned up and your reports straightened out, the sooner I can be in bed and forget about this shitshow. Good to see you got through without ending up in the hospital this time. Both of you did good work." Henry gazed at me imploringly while I stayed sitting. "Well, are you going to get up or not?"
"Right." I shook my head and nudged Battery. The armored elbow pad clinked against her plate carrier, not quite ringing through the protective rubber exterior and material holding it in place.
She grumbled and turned away, reminding me of trying to wake up a teenager. Which served to ruin my mood further. She killed a person for the first time today.
Irrational guilt gnawed at me for leaving her to commit the act when I knew logically that she did her job just as I did mine. Yet no matter how I looked at it, there wasn't an option for me to take her place. She had the speed to save the hostages; it only made sense. Except now her career was on the line, threatened by sanctions over killing an Empire cape. There would be an inquiry. If only I could've hidden the death or played it off as just another gangbanger.
I turned to Henry, and he just kept the shit-eating grin, like he was enjoying that I took his job and now had to ride herd on my squad. Only Battery so far, but I knew more would follow if they didn't sack me for today's events. I sighed, debating whether to shake her awake or be improper and just carry her to Squad 42's ready room. How was it that being a good squad leader came off as enabling a crush so often? Question: Would I do this for flirty Dave? Nope, I'd dope-slap him, but this was a traumatized teenage girl. Yet I still had my answer, setting my personal feelings aside for now. I was an agent first, and Will came second when I was on the job.
There were no guns on her, so I was good. Wack!
"Ah!" Battery jerked upright, letting out an aborted scream. Honed instincts acted out when she grabbed for her shield with the briefest sparks of blue lightning already charging.
"Get moving, Battery!" Damn, I felt horrible doing that, but she had to wake up anyway, and I was the leader, not a babysitter, no matter what we went through. Once we were off the clock, I could show some compassion. I swiped my cup of coffee from Henry, already formatting my AAR (after-action report) in my head.
I left my station, having dictated the events from call-in to entering PRTHQ after the operation into a recorder. The written report would come later today or next, with a panel of analysts asking probing questions about minute details. I wouldn't do the writing; they would after watching my helmet footage in detail. Nothing would escape them.
And on that note, I officially finished my day. Home beckoned me to kick up my feet and sleep until I forgot about all those I killed. Henry read me the preliminary reports of the operation, and they felt like casualties of war. Twenty-eight civilians died and over a hundred were injured. Miss Militia, Velocity, and Assault all suffered mild to severe wounds in exchange for having a hundred and thirty gangbangers put down and two hundred plus arrested. Two minor empire capes died, and four were captured. Hookwolf and the other heavy hitters escaped the field, not without their own injuries, but we dealt a heavy blow to the Empire.
Hopefully, enough to prevent any retribution, as the PRT floundered with over half the Protectorate off the table. Not that I particularly cared how Piggot dug her way out, just that she did. Maybe this was the nudge she needed to actually do something besides keep the status quo, like she did in my memories.
Freshly showered and dressed in my finest sweatpants and hoodie, I stopped by Battery's nook to see how she was doing. The slight pile of tissues to the side told its own story. Soft sniffling came from within, downplayed until only my enhanced hearing picked up on it. At my knock, she ripped down her mask, covering her face. She no longer reeked of BO but was freshly showered. Good. "How are you holding up?"
"Fine." That didn't sound fine. The only part of her costume that remained on her was the mask. Everything was just comfort wear, much like what I wore. A blue Battery hoodie and black sweatpants-always funny when a hero wore their own merch. An ego thing or free?
I knew I earned some enmity from how I drove her on to do her job, but being a hero or agent wasn't easy. Another highlight on how personal attachment between superior and subordinate went wrong often, shedding some light on why Henry remained a step separated from the rest of Squad 42.
Off the clock, though, when we hung up our responsibility, that was the time to vent and get over the trauma. She'd be looking at some therapy, maybe some every day, until the PRT was certain they could rely on her, but often they brought the cape and agent to good enough, rather than fix the problem over months. True treatment came from something non-prescribable: teammates, family, and friends to vent to. I knew what it felt like to lack them when I needed them and refused to put Battery in the same position.
"Do you… have someone to talk to?" I ventured. "I know you are living out there on the oil rig, but do you have a friend or close confidant to talk about today with?" Fuck opsec (operational security) when it came at a heavy cost. She rarely brought up her personal life when training, being more focused on doing her best and learning everything she could from me. I spent four years learning for this job; she didn't.
Battery balled up her hands. "No. Dad and Mom are back in New York. My sister is long gone. Fucking Assault…" The last part she whispered to herself. And I could imagine how it went in the other world, with her having a hard time and him giving her a shoulder to cry on, being the only familiar face regardless of how much she despised him.
"Come on." I swiped the recorder from her desk and put it in my pocket to deposit with Henry on my way out, then walked away, leaving an open invitation. Pushing never helped.
No steps followed me, and I thought she would go mope in her room until I reached the door. I'll admit, I was disappointed, feeling like I let Battery down. Then I heard a swift patter of feet trailing in my wake and a proud smile I kept hidden as she made the right choice for her mental health. For the first time, I thanked the crush she had, if only to be the tipping point of making a good decision.
I didn't bother knocking on Henry's office door, throwing it open and barging in. He held out his hand, and I dropped the recorders.
"You know you have the most entertaining rumors following you, and I can't wait to see how this will play out. First, bagging a woman old enough to be my wife, and now have a teenage hero following you around like a puppy." He said, putting the recorders off to the side amidst folders of paperwork. If he puffed on a cigar, it'd complete the image he cultivated.
"Fuck you." I was too tired to come up with any snappy remarks.
"Up yours too, McBride. I expect you at four for debriefing. Battery's at five." Four p.m. because hell would freeze over before I was debriefing in an hour. Maybe a day after that would be the hearing at the hands of a panel about the people I killed. Much like the military, it was strictly in-house and kept out of the public eye unless they were unable to keep it under wraps. There was a large reason why all agents dressed as one mass without identifying marks. Not the only reason, but one of them. We were PRT agents. That was our sole public identity.
I waved him off with a middle finger and closed the door behind me on the way out. She remained behind me all the way to the parking garage, where she took my passenger seat. I waited for her to say something-maybe ask for a ride back to her apartment-but she stewed in silence.
There comes a time after a long night when a person sits in their car with their hands on the steering wheel and stares off into the distance. Oppressive white light filled the underground garage, and the occasional car drove past. Just because it was three in the morning didn't mean that the PRT ever slept.
"I'm going back to my apartment if you want someone to talk to." I expressed my intentions without the chance of them being misinterpreted and waited for a response. No way in hell was I just going to drive her back to my apartment, even if my plan involved kicking my feet up in front of the TV and watching cartoons while drinking.
Battery responded by pulling her mask off, and damn, did she look like a baby. I forgot how young she was with the mask on and how professionally she acted. Short cropped brunette hair, almost a pixie cut, with the last hints of baby fat still puffing out her cheeks. Yet it was her green eyes that took me aback the most. They weren't full of life like they should be; they were rather bloodshot and puffy. Large bags under her eyes and splotchy cheeks enhanced her strung-out appearance. That face did not belong to a hero facing horror and killing. She was just an average eighteen-year-old. Ah, the horrors of child soldiers.
"Kelly. Ah, names Kelly. My name is Kelly Sterling." Kelly groaned and palmed her face with both hands.
"What will you know?" I joked, hoping to ease the tension a little. Thank this body's parents for giving me such a glorious name. Formal, yet can be shortened nicely and presents excellent jokes. They were good for something besides disowning me for becoming a PRT agent rather than going into the family business.
She groaned again and punched my arm, but a small smile graced her. "That was bad, and you should feel bad."
"Will I?" And it worked exactly as intended. Kelly cringing at me was far better than rethinking revealing her identity or everything else. She just gave me a show of trust rarely extended to non-capes or family for good reason.
"Yes, you will!"
"That's my name."
"Urg!"
Shit, this was edging into dad joke territory. The hairs on the back of my neck straightened out, and a shiver went down my back. Against all odds, what if I did get Annette pregnant?
… nah.
"What's with the face?" Batt- Kelly asked.
"… I need a few drinks first."
"I'll hold you to that."
I signed at that look she had. That wasn't how drinking a few beers went, Kelly.
Well, that was all I needed. I put my SUV into gear and pulled out of the parking spot. "I hope you'll say I was a perfect gentleman when they pull you aside tomorrow." At least I can say I wasn't giving preferential treatment, as I would invite back anyone on my squad for a drink after a rough day. Henry did the same-not his home, but taking the squad out to a bar on his tab.
Kelly looked at me in confusion before what I implied the PRT thought was happening dawned on her. She shifted and turned completely away from me, sitting sideways in her seat.
I laughed, and it felt good after such a night. Did she know I knew about her crush yet? I'd hate to break it to her that it would never happen.
There was a moment I considered turning on the radio, but all stations would either be broadcasting the affected areas to avoid or an all-clear for the populace to return to normal life. Both of those would put Kelly in a spiral, so I drove in silence.
"Do you regret it?" Kelly asked.
I kept my eyes on the deserted road, ambling down it exactly at the speed limit, maybe less at times. There was no reason to rush, considering I took unneeded side roads to extend the five-minute drive. If I ignored the growing decay as social services collapsed, Brockton Bay could substitute for any other New England city at night.
But do I regret it? Being a PRT agent? Dedicating my life to the one force standing in the way of the total collapse of society? No. I might not make a perceptible difference in the grand scheme, but if no one tried, we would already be in city-states ruled by warlords. Each drop counted, and with enough people dedicating their lives to justice, we could wrangle life back on course.
Yet, that wasn't what Kelly was referring to. It was the killing. "Do I regret killing? Not in the act, just that it is necessary. There shouldn't be high school-aged kids deciding it's a good idea to go out and kill someone to join a gang."
She stood on the precipice of being a hero. Each fight after killing that cape turned a touch more brutal. Dishing out more severe injuries and taking down gangbangers without reservation. Either she would take the route of no killing or follow in my footsteps. Little existed in the in-between, yet neither side was right. I had to live with the fact that some or even most of the people I killed could've lived if I were stronger, better, and able to show mercy.
I prayed she took the route of mercy.
That was the last time either of us spoke until I reached my front door on the second floor. I showed Kelly around, pointing out the key spots of my small apartment-not requiring more than a single bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. It was just me, so why would I want any more than that? Nothing extravagant, but it also wasn't cheap, having ample space for anything I wanted and decent height clearance.
"Take a seat. I'll grab some drinks and snacks." I ushered her to the large couch and threw on an imported show on TV. It cost close to a grand, but I bought the full Avatar series from Earth Alph.
I knew I was being irresponsible, but a beer or twelve did help. Kelly was old enough to kill, so she was old enough to drink. Two six packs of some expensive beer I never bothered to get the name of, chips, and random stuff to mix with it. I set all of it down on the coffee table, pulled a beer out, and popped the top off with my thumb, offering it to Kelly. The bottle top sailed across the room, tinking against the tile in the kitchen.
She shook her head, taking out one herself before blue sparks briefly covered her, letting her snap the top off. "I'm not so helpless."
I nodded my head toward her and took my spot, kicking my feet up on a footstool. Watching child-like innocence face the problems of a war-torn world with humor just… helped.
"It was one of the hostages. He asked me to save his mom." Kelly spoke up. "That's when I found that man raping her. He didn't stop. Looked me right in the eye and laughed. Just said to let him finish up, and I could arrest him. That he would be out in a week anyway. It just made me so angry." Her hands trembled before she tilted back her beer and drained the rest. "Spitting on everything I wanted to fix as a hero, just like Assault."
That was the base of matters. There were just too many Empire capes. All the initiative went to the attacker, and the choice came to a valiant last stand that would cost the agents' lives to stop the breakout or retreating and letting the cape go free. Großer Schub didn't lie, having been arrested over a dozen times. Notorious for his vile acts, but he always surrendered.
"I just stood there! Like an idiot! If-if I acted… if I did anything…"
Worse than I thought. I placed a hand on Kelly's shoulder, letting her vent. She knew what went wrong and how to do better, saying something wasn't needed. On she went, describing her failures and raging at the Empire. This went all the way back around to killing the cape.
"Killing him felt good! Like I did something good! Did- does that make me a bad person?"
Such a loaded question. "Being relieved that he can't hurt anyone again isn't a bad thing." I wanted her to make up her mind, not have me dictate my thoughts as her own.
Kelly turned away from the TV and stared me down. "Does being happy that I killed him make me a bad person?"
It seemed like I wasn't able to get away from this question. "I killed many people last night. Does that make me a bad person?"
There wasn't an immediate answer, so she put some thought into what I said before speaking up. "Well, no."
"I was doing my job, just like you. We have our orders, and we follow them. How you carry them out depends on who you are. You care. Seeing something so horrible…" I shrugged, never blaming Kelly in the first place, as I would do much the same. The consequences be damned. Then, on another note of changing the subject to one she couldn't ignore, "You know, I was having dinner with Annette after meeting her daughter when I got called in."
Kelly kept her scowl firmly in place. "How old is her daughter?"
"Fourteen. Apparently, her birthday was months ago. I thought she was still thirteen." Birthdays slipped my mind; I would have to ask Annette and memorize hers and Taylor's.
"Fourteen… Why, why someone so… old? She could be your mom!"
I laughed, having never considered that. Fifteen wasn't unheard of for having a child. "If her daughter was my age, I think that would make it a touch more awkward."
"A touch!" The sheer offense at my statement.
The offended look she gave my fingers when I held them slightly apart was hilarious.
"She's forty, Will! It'd be like me scoping out a daycare, looking for a future husband!"
I waved her off. "Bah, after you turn twenty-five, age matters less. I doubt I'll change much over the next twenty years, just like Annette. We are who we are, and nothing's going to change that unless something major happens. But you, Kelly, the world is your limit. Who you are in two years, five years, seven years, will be night and day." That's why I despised the current climate with the Wards and Protectorate. If it was up to me, Wards would last until twenty-five after going through the same courses I did.
"So if I were older…"
"If you were twenty and I weren't going out with Annette, then I'd think about it."
Kelly sighed. "Just a few years. You knew about my crush, didn't you?"
"You did show up to training in a crop top and shorts glued up your butt crack."
"Urgh, don't remind me." She hid her face in her hands, a recurring action whenever I embarrassed her.
"No, I don't think I will. Speaking of Taylor, she has posters of Armsmaster and Alexandria. I'm thinking of getting her some signed merch from a real hero." Neither of those two were worth looking up to, not for Taylor. Maybe she would be less traumatized without long-loved heroes showing their true colors.
"Who?" Kelly asked.
"Well, who else? Would you mind signing some for me?"
A radiant blush colored her cheeks. "I- I wouldn't mind." Yet her slumped posture straightened out, and a measure of pride showed through the worry and guilt.
Nothing important happened after that. I finished off the last beer, well into the second season of Avatar. Kelly passed out not long after we finished talking, leaning on my shoulder and drooling up a storm. And yet, I still didn't sleep, zoning out to the cartoon show and pondering life. Never thinking about much, just drifting from one topic to the next.
The sun shone through the curtains, and the TV continued, working from one episode to the next without input.
Then the front door unlocked with a click and scraping metal. With the reaction time of a demented snail, I turned my head just in time to see the door swing open.
… and Annette stepped in wearing a long tan coat with a small purse hanging on her shoulder.
Huh. This was going to be interesting. Also, when did she get a key? I knew I gave her mine when she took care of me. Did she get it copied?
Annette paused a couple of steps in, studying Kelly and me, and the living room in general. The assorted empty beer bottles and snack bags caught her eye. Then she slammed the front door shut.
Kelly jerked awake, swinging her head around until she found Annette. Then she sprung to her feet, tripping over the side of the couch and running into the bathroom. I, on the other hand, remained frozen in my spot, not yet ready to think, and got a busy signal in my head when I tried.
Not a word was said. Annette put down her bag while draping her coat over the back of a chair, went over to the kitchen, and pulled out food while putting a pan on the stove. Just sitting here wasn't an option. I forced myself up and shook out the cobwebs.
When I entered the kitchen, Annette greeted me with a breath mint. Fair.
"Who's the girl?" She asked. Her voice remained rather normal and not strained. I knew if I came over to Annette's house and I found a guy sleeping on her shoulder, I would be a bit peeved.
"Kelly's a coworker who needed some support after last night. Things didn't go… great," I said.
Annette hummed.
"She's far too young," And then explained a bit more at her non-committal hum.
That earned me a side eye and an accusatory hum.
"You know it's different." She was just poking my buttons. We spent some long nights talking about the age subject.
Yet another hum, but this time she cracked a smile. "I know Will. You've made your preference widely known. I'm more curious about how someone so young works with you. You rarely talk about work."
"Well, she's actually my subordinate, and you're not worried?" I asked.
"Why would I be?" Annette swished her lustrous, curly, black hair as her glasses caught the light just right and with just a little shake of the rear. Followed by her throwing on some bacon, followed by cracking an egg into the pan. "I'm all that you need."
"Ah." I sounded like an idiot, but instead of standing off to the side, I worked my way in to help cook. This was my kitchen. She couldn't kick me out this time.
The shower kicked on as pipes rocked in the ceiling.
"Why are you here? And how did you get in?" I asked, setting aside the first course, which was just enough for an appetizer for me.
"We need to have a talk, and we were interrupted last night." A strange glint flickered past her eyes, almost like she knew more than she was letting on, with more than a touch of guilt flickering by before she turned away. "As for how I got in? Well, I wasn't always a model citizen. Some skills last a lifetime."
I gave her a swat. "Naughty."
The bathroom door opened, and a freshly washed Kelly stepped out looking a fair bit better than when she entered. I could see the disappointment radiating off her upon seeing Annette.
I cleared my throat into my fist. "Kelly, this is my girlfriend, Annette. Annette, this is Kelly, my coworker."
"I trust my Will was a perfect gentleman?" Annette asked, smiling in sadistic delight.
Kelly prickled. "Yes… more than anyone could hope for. I can see why he attracted such an… experienced woman."
"Hm, it does take experience to handle someone of Will's caliber. Anything else would just be a waste. Sit. A growing girl needs a proper breakfast."
Yes, I was staying out of that. Kelly, wide-eyed, took her seat and was swiftly served a couple of fried eggs, bacon, and toast.
"Will? Sit."
"Yes, Ma'am!" That came out a little more sarcastic than I intended, but I knew I was fully in the wrong in this situation. Not that anything would've happened, and Annette knew that, but the optics were bad. Give and take. She decided to be pushy, and I gave way. A show of trust.
I think that was what I enjoyed most about Annette-the unspoken dynamic we developed. A performance in part, but one that required both parties to play. Should either of us fall out of touch with the other, we would crash and burn long before most couples would realize something was wrong.
Kelly snorted, making a whip sound. Then she quieted upon Annette's gaze shifting to her, retreating into shoveling down her food. I commiserated with her and started eating, knowing Annette stood inches behind my back.
The lightest touch caressed my jaw, sliding through my beard that I really needed to shave. She settled into kneading the back of my neck, working out tension I didn't know I had. I knew this was a power play against Kelly, but it was what it was, and I enjoyed the massage regardless. Like I said, it was a performance, and this was just another aspect.
I also enjoyed the display of possessiveness. Little actions like that told far more about how deep our relationship was becoming. The edge of guilt tried to surface but drowned under the sincere effort I put in for months. It also helped to know that Annette also went in under false pretenses.
Kelly clinked her fork against her empty plate, refusing to look in my direction. "Bye, Will! I'll call you later! Thanks for everything! Thank you for breakfast, Annette." And she ran away, desperately trying to put on her boots as quickly as she could.
Annette wasn't one to let her prey escape so easily. She ghosted around the table and came up behind Kelly without a sound. A simple hand on the shoulder froze Kelly worse than staring down a villain. "I rarely hear about Will's coworkers, much less meet one. So young, too. Why not stop by for dinner on Saturday? My daughter could use a wonderful influence like you."
I winced again as Annette compared Kelly to her fourteen-year-old daughter. Rarely were things unintentional with her; even the smallest gestures held meaning or projected her emotional state.
"Okay," Kelly squeaked.
Then Annette pulled her into a light hug, whispering something I couldn't hear before shooing Kelly out the door. I shook my head with a mouthful of food as the mysterious older woman persona slipped off Annette once the door closed.
She dragged a chair over to my side and snatched my fork away, starting to eat my food. Even my bacon I was saving for last!
"Suck it up, you baby. I'm eating for two." Annette casually remarked, shoving a full strip of bacon into her mouth.
I blinked. Then I opened my mouth and closed it.
"I know you can't talk about your job, and I doubt you're a data analyst. That's understandable. It is." Annette ran her left hand over my right arm, tracing the bruises that had gone through my armor.
The bruises weren't small, given how large the assorted armored plates covering agents were to distribute the force of impacts. The purple, swollen mass she traced covered a large part of my forearm-something that completely slipped my mind with her sudden appearance. I would've worn a long-sleeve shirt until I healed, but that option had long passed.
Guilt twisted her features for a moment. "But please tell me when you're going into danger."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was a possibility-I knew it since yesterday. Yet, being told so made it all so real. No longer was my stake in this life about me alone. What would've happened if I had died last night? Now I felt guilty for another reason. "I, uh, I will. Are you really? Aren't you-?"
"Old? In the middle of menopause? Technically, I wasn't officially, having gone ten months without a cycle before getting pregnant. An extremely rare edge case, but yes, I had an ultrasound and confirmed it. No tumor, no cysts. And no, I'm not telling Taylor until I get past the first term, considering my age."
"Huh."
"Yes, I do take the blame for being so whimsical and now paying the price of doing so." I would've believed her a bit more on the price being paid if she wasn't smiling off into the distance when saying so.
"What are we going to do now?" I asked, still not having slept for over a day, and I was having a hard time thinking through the repercussions.
Annette mopped up the rest of the yoke with a slice of toast and shoved it into her mouth. A quick dab of a napkin, and she started rooting around in her pocket. Something gold caught my eye, and a forming blush tinted her cheeks. "William McBride, will you marry me?" Annette asked, presenting me with a simple gold band.
I blinked. Was this a fever dream? Did I get shot in the head last night, and this was my coma experience?
"I refuse to raise my child without their father. A second child was always a dream, and now it has come true. You, William, brought a spark of life back to me. Without you, I would hate to imagine the bitter woman I would've turned into. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, not just for what you brought me, but for what you have returned to Taylor. So please, will you marry me, Will?" At least that explained the smile regarding being pregnant.
Absent of my conscious control, I held up my left hand, and she slid the large ring onto my ring finger. "This is… quite the leap."
"It is."
"We need a bigger house."
"We do."
"When is the baby due?"
"Halfway through March."
"Do you have a date for getting married?"
"End of next month, September. I refuse to wear my wedding dress while being a land whale."
"So… yesterday, with the entire thing about throwing me at Taylor and making those promises?"
Annette's cheeks turned scarlet, and she brushed nonexistent locks of hair away before adjusting her glasses. "That came from some last-minute panicked research about widowed women with children remarrying. My anxiety got the better of me." Her muscles twitched, but she kept looking at me even when her embarrassment blazed.
What else could I do besides lean in and give her a kiss? "I told you I wasn't going to run away."
Then I pulled her into my lap. The chairs and table squealed against the tiled floor as I pushed them aside to make room for her. Once there, I combed a hand through her hair and rested my other against her lower stomach. She melted into me, pressing herself tight.
There was something different now. Heat and passion that made our previous encounters suddenly feel hollow. Also a touch of vindictiveness. I'd lift her up and screw her until she couldn't walk, and I would have to drive her home and tuck her into bed, but after yesterday, the mind was willing but the flesh wasn't.
But there was still a way to show Annette how much I carried, completing the trigram. Emotional, physical, and now sexual.
"Will?" Annette asked, now hanging off my neck when I stood up.
A single hand cupped her tight rear, supporting her weight, still twisted sideways instead of facing me straight on. Her protests vanished into my mouth even when my free hand unbuttoned her pants, and then unzipped them.
All it took at that point was a sharp tug with a twist of both my hands, and her pants slid off. Underwear followed along. I stroked her exposed butt, my fingers digging into supple flesh with just the right amount of fat covering hard muscles. A heavy aroma reached my nose, one I was all too familiar with. It seemed I wasn't the only one who got worked up with this revelation.
Annette framed my face with her hands and pushed away, gasping for breath. "Will… is this really the time? I have to go grocery shopping and work on myyyyyy-"
I dragged a finger from the base of her pussy, tugging at the perineum, before dipping into the ample wetness already present. Then I went all the way up to flick her clit, to only stop my ministrations. Waiting for her tact approval.
A beat passed. "Continue."
Ah, Annette was too funny. She didn't expect to be lifted higher. Thankfully, I had a ten-foot ceiling. I wrapped her legs around my head until I faced her pussy, thinly covered with short black hair, her hands tugging at my hair to stabilize herself.
"What are you doing?" Higher pitched, having been surprised by me. I never got the drop on her, but today it seemed I had.
Then I licked her, splitting open her closed lower lips with my tongue. As it was, I supported her with a hand on each of her butt cheeks, but that wouldn't stand. Too simple. I sealed my lips around her clit and sucked right in time, letting go with one hand and probing her pussy with two fingers. All the way in until my pointer finger and pinky pressed against her groin, my middle finger and ring finger jammed deep inside, arching up to the front and pressing against the inside of her abdominal muscles. Any other position would hit them against her cervix, considering the size of my fingers. Something I avoided generally, but now even more so.
Annette shuddered against my face, her hands pulling my hair tight. "W-Will! Don't stop!"
Then I went a step further. I let go of her butt with my left hand, leaving her weight to settle on the fingers impaling her. With my free hand, I tapped her asshole with a finger. She jerked at the sudden stimulation, but this wasn't the first time we played around with her rear.
"Be gentle."
If my lips weren't wrapped around her clit, mauling the nub with my tongue, I would've laughed at her. She always started with that, and it lasted minutes at best before she was screaming at me to destroy her. By memory alone, I walked across my apartment with Annette wrapped around my head and pulled out the giant pump bottle of lube I bought in preparation from the closet.
Squirt-squirt.
I let the lube warm up over my two fingers, wiggling the ones inside Annette's vagina. Until I had another way of holding up her weight, I couldn't really finger her, and that was why she was getting another set up in her rear. Everything stopped moments before-my fingers inside hugged her g-spot while my tongue lay flat on her clit. She knew what was coming and clenched her vagina tight while yanking my hair.
"Uh!"
The tip of my middle finger pushed into her ass. Then I pulled back and went in again. I made sure to thump my fingers against her g-spot and give her clit a quick suck in time, building a rhythm around pushing further into her blazing hot ass. Each incursion I felt against my other fingers-only separated by a thin barrier.
Then I finished inserting the sole finger, my fist pressing hard against her butt while supporting her weight around the sole digit. Just holding it there, letting her get used to the intrusion. The support holding her weight shifted from the hand at her vagina to her ass. Then I began fingering. Each pull-out accompanied an aggressive flick to her clit. I didn't actually remove them from her pussy, but with how I had them hooked toward me, they caught on the inside of her pelvic bone, abusing her g-spot before slamming back home with a squelch.
Annette's orgasm built, her muscles began fluttering, and her breathing became erratic. Not a single intelligible sound left her mouth.
Yet before she could cum, I stopped and pulled my single finger from her ass, adding a second digit pressing against her hole.
"Will? I-I'm not ready!" Fingernails dug into my scalp.
I broke the seal around her clit, letting the engorged nub free to look up at her, smirking while her juices ran down my face. "I'm not ready to be a dad."
Annette smacked me. "You asssssss!"
Both my fingers entered her ass and didn't stop until my knuckles hit her cheeks. I pulled the ones from her pussy until they slammed against her g-spot and re-locked my lips on her clit. Then I rammed my finger back in until they supported her weight, dragging the ones out of her ass.
"I-I'm really not ready for this!"
Back and forth, I went with deliberate slowness. Each time I felt Annette get close to cumming, I stopped fingering her pussy. The longer I ate her out, the slower I went. She quivered on my face, each millimeter of my fingers going in and out of her, edging to the edge point of no return.
That was until I pressed her against the sidewall, pinning her against my face, letting me put an unbelievable amount of suction on her clit. At this point, I wasn't even touching it. She would explode if I did.
Minutes passed.
Annette struggled to do anything besides make the most primal noises. Her ass clenched tight against my fingers, letting her feel every bit of them pulling on her on the way out. The point of no return became finer. Her heart thundered in her thighs, letting me feel each and every beat.
Then I crossed the line. But because of how finely I threaded that line with downright ponderous movement, the orgasm didn't explode but became the start of an avalanche. Starting as a subtle trembling beyond what she was already doing, uncontrollable muscle twitches rocked her insides.
She screamed just on the edge of hearing range until she ran out of breath. Each thrust of my fingers inside her came just that much quicker. My tongue just brushed her swollen clit, and she arched her back.
What took almost a minute now happened in seconds, and it only got quicker. The entire time, Annette was locked in a half-orgasm. If I stopped now, she would cum her brains out. If I broke this rhythm, she would cum her brains out. It was only by building on a subtle yet predictable expectation, letting the most primal part of her know what was coming next, yet becoming quicker with each stroke.
The impact of my hands against her pussy and ass took a concentrated effect and put a limit on how fast I could finger her without it turning into my punching her hard enough to keep her from falling.
This kept going on until Annette shifted into actually cumming without either of us realizing it. Well, there wasn't much happening in her head right now. Every time my fingers rammed into her pussy, a growing amount of femcum squelched out, adding to her wetness and dribbling down my arm. I could feel each contraction as another rush of fluids coinciding with the rippling muscles inside.
Three minutes into Annette's orgasm, the last bit of consciousness snuffed out, and she collapsed around my head, her arms and legs going limp. I pulled my fingers free one after another and lowered her into my arms. A thick layer of sweat drenched her shirt, and her cheeks matched her embarrassed blush from earlier but radiated an astonishing amount of heat. She gasped for breath, but a satisfied smile tugged at her cheeks.
I breathed in, savoring the hardy scent she left lingering in the air. It was undeniably Annette, and it smelled as if I shoved my nose up her pussy. No one was coming around my apartment until I aired it out.
After adjusting her into a princess carry, she snuggled tight against me, long into blissful sleep. Something I would be joining her in once I cleaned up.
I chuckled to myself, finding my way of payback amusing. She did spring the revelation on me while I was sleep-deprived. I laid her down on my bed and cleaned myself of Annette's assorted juices covering me. Then I grabbed an ice pack and wrapped it in a towel that I wedged between her legs, pressing against her abused pussy and ass. She sighed in relief, snuggling against me when I joined her.
Hours later, Annette jerked awake and slapped me awake. " Ass!"
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 10
AN: Beta'd by Grim Tide
Chapter 10
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Blood pooled at the tip of the thin blade before the inevitable draw of gravity pulled the droplet free. The drop accelerated, buffeted by air laden with the stench of death, before joining the growing puddle with a little plop.
The man the blood once called home lay slumped over, his uniform tainted by the flow escaping a small but vicious hole, shredding his heart from between two ribs. A guard by profession, a grunt by lifestyle. He joined the litany of others in his silent death, having never known his fate until it was far too late.
A dealer of death, she was that night. Flicking her stiletto, she removed the last of the blood, spraying a line across the hallway wall. She stepped away, heels clicking on the marble flooring.
Click.
Click.
Click.
All those that died tonight facilitated a single target. Sitting high above on his golden throne and watching the chaos and terror he spread. A blight upon Brockton. One she wouldn't, couldn't, allow to remain.
The door to his inner sanctum glided open on oiled hinges-not a sound to be heard. Even when the clock ticked over into the next day before the sun rose, his deep, smooth voice stood out against the pure silence of the night.
"What do you mean, the PRT is there?"
"Do we have a leak?"
"No? Then please explain how they responded in time. Only three people knew the targets an hour ago!" A hand slapped against the solid wood of his desk, and a chair squeaked.
The woman peered around the corner and into the office. A man dressed in a suit reclined in an office chair, facing large windows looking down over Brockton Bay. One hand kept the cellphone tight against his face while another combed through blond hair.
"Trust in the Empire is at an all-time low after that lizard showed-we need this. The Empire needs this!"
She stepped into the office, sliding through the cast shadows without touching her heels against the hard floor, walking solely on her toes. Each step measured in time with his speech, creeping closer with a blade held at the ready.
"A full squad and cape dead? Who? McBride? The enhanced agent you were looking into? And Battery." Max Anders' paused, running his hand along his stylized short beard.
The woman froze, tilting her head to the side, unaware of this bit of information, and, rather than finishing her task, she listened. Worried and guilty over the ripples of her actions. She knew as much as she missed, just because the ending existed, didn't mean the journey lacked scars.
"Put a hit on him. He's caused too many deaths. If the opportunity to capture Battery comes up, take her, and we can exchange her for some more recruits to replenish the losses." Not an ounce of compassion, writing off a man's death and the enslavement of a heroine.
Her actions only felt more justified-maybe this was why it never came to be. Crossing the remaining distance in two quick leaps, from ten feet away to standing behind Max Anders' back. There wasn't time for him to respond before the flash of her stiletto, intended for stabbing, but at the moment, it worked fine for removing the man's head and splitting the cellphone in two. The role resonated through her body, making her something she wasn't.
A line of blood splattered across the windows, quickly dripping down in streaks. The decapitated head of Max Anders thumped against the polished floor, leaking blood as it rolled over to face the city he once believed he ruled for his last moments.
With each death, Brockton became a safer place.
Nothing would stand in her way of making this place worthy of her children.
Bad things happened.
Taylor knew it in her gut. The flashes of insight from her power and the overwhelming emotions echoing from Mom and Will still burned in her head. She cleaned out her mouth and flushed the toilet, having gotten overwhelmed by the memories again.
Last night was the worst night of her life since Dad died. Mom left an hour after she sent Taylor to bed. And she refused to silence her bond with either of them again, not when she felt the worry and fear echoing off both. The bloodlust and rage.
It took two hours after she suppressed the bond while Will and Mom… , before it came back. That wasn't a pleasant experience, and feeling it from two sides at once, a shiver went down her back. She loved Mom, but no daughter should ever feel that. Yuck.
Though she lied about not pushing down the bond again because Mom was a big fat liar-she wasn't shopping; she visited Will!
Urk!
Taylor couldn't even begin to understand why or how her classmates did something similar. That would never happen to her. She refused!
At least both Mom and Will were asleep by the time the bond reformed. Taylor wished she had it still at dinner when Will told her about his job. There was no way he was an analyst, she looked up the job description just to be sure, not with what she felt from him until three in the morning. Not with what she saw through those brief flashes.
Mom worried Taylor even more. What was she doing out there last night? The news hadn't stopped showing the aftermath, mixed with clips of fighting. Well, that or Max Anders' death and the police investigating his killer.
Taylor bit her lip and hopped on her computer. Will was a part of what happened last night, and it was up to her to figure out if he was a good guy or a bad guy. If it meant protecting Mom, she would watch everything available, even if it made her stomach roll again. Maybe it was a good thing he was so big with red hair-all the easier for her to spot.
She only knew one thing for certain about Will. He told the truth when he promised to protect Mom, even if he ended up being a villain. She wasn't sure what to do if that happened. Would a bad guy protecting Mom be better than a good guy who didn't?
Nothing felt bad about him, though she wished he didn't find her so amusing when she was threatening him! She wasn't adorable, dammit!
Emily Piggot stared down at a constant source of annoyance and pride. Each time deployed, he left a mountain of paperwork and headaches for her to deal with. Partially her fault for keeping his deployment for the highest-risk operations to stay within the employment contract. Of course, she would milk every last drop possible and keep him on standby every day without. Who wouldn't when they had access to such an effective asset?
William McBride, a giant of a man, stood at attention, waiting for her to act. As of two days ago, he held the official highest kill count in her department at eighty-three. More than her, more than veterans deployed in war. A man who she would've given anything to have with her on the fateful mission years ago. Someone who did what they had to without an ounce of cowardice in his body, unlike those damn capes.
Not everything was good. Something changed within him after Leet.
Emily turned away, more than conscious she made everyone wait on her, and examined the reports. Analytics drained a third of her budget; however useful they were, about half the time they were on downtime. She would be damned to waste that much, so she turned it inward, examining the potent pieces on the board.
Not once had McBride shown any desire for a relationship-not in high school or after. The classified report on him and everyone included sexuality, being a security risk, and how to pair with certain threats. He was labeled as ace-leaning, much to the annoyance of many female troopers. And now he was dating a forty-year-old woman who already had a child.
Red flags put the alert mildly.
Not even pairing him with Battery, who obviously had a crush, changed anything. But that was more of a petty move on her part, as a middle finger for sicking the walking time bomb that was Assault on her. The entire Battery Assault thing made her sick, but that was outside her purview… until recently. A poor trait for a director, but she loved twisting the dagger whenever she had the chance.
There were no leads or concerning reports on Annette Hebert, besides minor ties to the defunct Lustrum. Nothing anyone could determine to the point an enterprising employee called in a favor with Watchdog… only for it to come up blank-if she overlooked the coming pregnancy. Laws were more suggestions the deeper the agency went, especially concerning privacy around medical records.
Then the link between codenamed Luminary, pompous ass, and Annette was discovered through chance observation. Less than five people knew her civilian identity, with Emily being one of those, so it took the analyst filling in at a different department to bring it to her attention. Luminary somehow evaded all the early warning signs and bound herself to the most lethal agent under her command.
The pregnancy annoyed her more than anything because of the parental leave she had to give McBride. Though it amused her, she knew before he did, but having a thinker meddling in ENE outside Emily's command pissed her off. The only thing that stayed her heavy hand remained the massive gains ENE made against the Empire and ABB. Once Annette stepped outside the lines, Emily would have no choice but to force her into the Protectorate. The pregnancy would keep Annette out of the way while also serving as a convenient leverage point.
But despite all of that, Emily remained in a precarious political position. Having an agent with such a kill count weighed rather heavily when more peaceful departments balked at such an idea. After the news of the raid made national news and the ENE's initial classified reports, thirty-five directors formally filed complaints about this being an unnecessary escalation that threatened the peace. Five more, and she wouldn't have a choice in removing McBride-or worse, applying charges. Because after that threshold, Chief Director Costa-Brown would have no choice but to launch an investigation, something Emily would rather avoid.
If they kept their heads in their own business, she would've dismissed McBride with a hefty severance for the appropriate bribe, whether material or personal. One person could only do so much, and getting the funds for twenty agents or a couple of capes would have a far larger effect on Brockton. Yet they left her no choice but to rub their faces in the matter. Her pride demanded it.
So she wasn't going to do a single thing against McBride but issue the minimum leave following a death. They were going to need him soon.
The Empire didn't respond to the PRT's intervention like every report indicated. They didn't lash out or make a fuss-they went quiet if one overlooked the dead bodies of gangbangers showing up.
Something happened, and no one knew what just yet. She had this gut instinct that Luminary was behind it.
Emily cleared her throat and adjusted the paperwork on her desk. "This is Director Piggot, head of ENE, reviewing the actions of squad leader McBride on the night of August 13th. During this meeting, myself and the panel will review the deaths of fifty-three and determine if any exceeded the ROE of the operation. Before we begin, McBride, do you have anything to say?"
Off to the right, a copywriter operated a mechanical typewriter, while another on the left side typed on a computer. Both remained obscured, with only a vague outline of them visible.
Everything about this meeting only stood for the record, having reviewed and made her decision long before this time. She took discrete pleasure in watching those miserable walks of life meet their end. If she could, she would've saved a copy for private viewing. From start to finish, a work of art in the brutal efficacy of killing.
McBride kept his head held high, meeting her eyes without flinching or wavering. "I will state for the record that the escalation of ROE was due to the lack of available personnel."
Emily would've smiled if it weren't for her carefully crafted hardass persona. Perfect. Just what she required to eke out another cape and maybe a few more field agents. She clicked on the TV, displaying the helmet-cam footage. "Let's begin."
The quicker this was over, the quicker she could show Battery just how agents were supposed to act. How pathetic the Protectorate measured up to trained agents! More ammunition to bear for her policies.
Kelly sighed in relief, leaving the scrutinizing eyes of so many. When she signed off on joining a PRT squad, she thought she knew what she was doing, but facing a panel to review her actions in the field mortified her. They picked apart everything into the tiniest details. The flaws in her actions, the lack of response to Will when he called out to her, and the painfully aggressive response to him stopping her from further resuscitating the dead woman.
Each and every bit made her aware of how amateurish her actions came out to be.
The verdict? Exactly what she thought. Squad 42 existed as an agent squad, and because she was on it, only one set of standards mattered: agent standards. The same set took years of dedicated learning and practice to hone. At eighteen, she would be the youngest agent on staff by a few years.
Kelly wanted to be a hero more than anything. Learning how far she had to go hurt like a kick in the gut. Knowing that if she trained and learned like her peers, the woman would still live. That was a regret she didn't think would ever fade, but it served as motivation to push herself to new heights.
Deep down, she doubted Will when he said she was a true hero. It certainly didn't feel like it after being confronted with the long list of deficiencies she had… yet the conviction in his tone… Kelly wanted to curse him for lying to her just because of her weakness.
But why would he spend so much time training her and comforting her? He believed it, didn't he? He believed she was a hero to look up to. Even if she wasn't right now, maybe she could be. No, if Will believed it, then there wasn't a choice; she had to be better, no matter the cost.
Squad 42 wouldn't see the field outside of emergencies. There would be no patrols. She had one week to get her head back on track, and then it was training and learning under Will. The sting of his rejection only made it worse. She knew it was coming, but to find out he knew from the start… it kind of proved the point about how much the experience gap between them was.
Kelly shivered upon remembering the comment from Annette. Watch Will's back with her life. If he dies, she would make Kelly's life hell. Being a hero with a power should've made the threat feel… lacking, but something in the tone and calm gaze made Kelly feel like she was staring down an insidious mix of her mom and villain.
If everything else hadn't convinced Kelly Will was off the market, that would've. Staying in Annette's good graces was by far the right choice. Refusing the dinner invite wasn't even an option.
Upon stepping out from under the five sets of piercing eyes, Kelly didn't expect to find Will sitting on a chair on his phone. She froze, tallying the time spent in the room at over an hour.
Damn you, Annette.
Kelly swallowed the lump in her throat. "H-hey, Will, were you waiting for me?"
He slid his phone into his pocket and stood, dwarfing her like she was a little kid. Over a foot taller. "Yup. Come on, we have to cover years' worth of work and not much time." Then the most poleaxed expressions she had ever seen flickered by. "And Annette is quite insistent you come by tonight for dinner." He ran a hand through his flaming red hair, staring at the wall behind her.
"You knew the verdict," Kelly accused him.
Will shook his head before looking back down at her. "Yes. I asked after Director Piggot finished my review."
"You could've warned me!"
He had the gall to chuckle. "A bit different from the Protectorate, huh?"
" Yes. That was mortifying! I don't think I've ever been more ashamed."
"Good."
What?
"Use that to be better. We carry the weight of many on our backs, and every misstep condemns some to death. This is not a job. This is a calling. In the PRT or not, I will always seek to make this a better world. I see that in you too. If they fired you, would you stop being a hero?" His hand creaked from how hard he gripped, sounding like an overstressed steel cable twanging under the force.
"No!"
"I can't stop; too many depend on me. If this is your choice, I expect you to dedicate your mind, body, and soul to being the best you can be."
"I swear it!" Kelly met his intense gaze without flinching. No matter the favors owed for her powers, she sought them out for one reason and one reason only. She was sick of seeing the lack of justice in the world. It burned within her but remained hampered, and even when she succeeded, the result always left her feeling hollow. The struggle, the fighting, putting her life on the line-and so often, nothing to show for it.
Kelly killed. Will killed. And she failed, yet they accomplished something more. She despised killing, but those who died would never kill or ruin another's life ever again. They shouldered the weight for others. Unthanked, despised, and ridiculed for their heavy hand, but in a world where justice fled and monsters were left to walk the streets, was there a choice?
Will nodded and stalked away, and her heart soared, quickly following along a step behind him. Through the corridors, everyone parted before him. A palpable energy radiating off him demanded everyone get out of his way. Agents in full gear stepped aside-those supposed to be manning the security checkpoints let the both of them through without a second look.
Intense. Kelly didn't know what changed. He wasn't joking or having this casual air of confidence anymore.
Through the entire building to the parking garage. Once in his SUV, she peeled off her mask, watching him grip the steering wheel until it bent. "What happened?" Kelly asked before she could stop herself.
Will flinched, quickly letting go, and shifted to a more natural posture. All it took was him glancing at her, and he deflated. "Something I never even considered."
"What could shake the unflappable McBride?" Kelly joked, smiling at him before frowning at his severe reaction.
"I'm having a baby."
Kelly blinked. Um. "With Annette?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Just over two months of dating and the age gap. So many things made sense. Will had confided in her that he wasn't supposed to meet Taylor for a while yet, and then there was Annette's threat. Did… did she know Kelly was a cape?
Just who was Annette?
Kelly stepped into the rundown house, noting a few boxes taped up in stacks off to the side. Awkward didn't begin to describe how she felt. The last six hours they spent reviewing what she knew, it felt like her brain dribbled out of her ears.
And now they were at Will's fiance's house. As a woman who had a crush on him, now meeting his soon-to-be stepdaughter. Of all the possibilities in life, this wasn't one she considered. She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to find a spot to put her hands and not wither under the mirth of Annette. The bitch.
Taylor stood to the side, just as adorable as Will described, looking just as lost as Kelly felt. Big, bushy hair spilled out around a gray hoodie, while brown eyes zipped between them all, lips quirking in thought.
"Taylor, this is my coworker, Kelly. Why don't you talk while Annette and I start dinner?" Then Will abandoned her!
Kelly half-waved, forcing a smile. "Hi." On the inside, she cursed Will, Annette, and everyone else who landed her in this spot.
Taylor kept staring at Kelly with her big doe eyes. "Is this a sex thing?"
Kelly choked on her spit, turning away while her face blazed like the sun. Oh god, it got worse! Just let me die! "NO!"
Taylor's laughter didn't help!
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 11
AN: Beta'd by Grim Tide
Chapter 11
A soft groan heralded my impact on the building's roof, and for a moment, I thought it was going to give way like one of my earlier experiences at rooftop running. The debate between launching myself away or spreading my weight further out lasted until a support beam crunched. I shuffled to the edge of the roof, ignoring the indent I left, and peered over the edge, spying Sophia's shadowy form soar from one building to the next with her power.
Her costume flowed with the smoke she let off when shifted into her shadow state, dressed in a crude mockup of her Shadow Stalker costume, mostly consisting of a black long coat and a hockey mask. The crossbow, however, went beyond anything she could afford, or even own, at fourteen. I've seen it for sale-a beast of a compact crossbow that costs over a grand. The feasibility in combat was… lacking, and I wasn't sure why she went with those rather than a simple compound bow. Cranking the pulley system took a good half-minute unless she only used it as an ambush weapon.
That wasn't taking into account that a crossbow was a peasant weapon, whereas bows took a lifetime to master. An inconsistency regarding her worldly outlook-of being superior, set apart from the masses.
But back to the crossbow. Without a doubt, she stole it with her powers.
I tsked at her lack of awareness and jogged to the edge before launching myself off the brickwork. Ten feet up, I caught the edge of the next building and leveraged myself over, rolling once, and took off in Sophia's direction.
What should I do with her?
Some light stalking of Sophia's family gave me a clear picture of her home life. Deadbeat and abusive boyfriend of her mom. An apathetic mother who occasionally used hard drugs, but not a druggy. The finer details were impossible to figure out unless I broke into their apartment and observed how they acted toward each other, but I could guess.
At home, Sophia was powerless to the whims of others. She channeled all that frustration and anger into violence-a superiority and inferiority complex. She was better than everyone else for doing something, yet deep down, she knew she was just as stuck as they were. How much of this came from her power or just her teenage mind being warped under stressors? I would never know.
But there existed a chance she could be something more than a violent bully edging on sociopathy.
Why was I even bothering?
Paranoia. A maddening second-guessing loop about events that could be or not. What if Sophia ended up at Arcadia and turned sadistically on Taylor? Would canon come about regardless of how the world changed? If not Taylor, would some other teenage girl get tortured for years? What if that girl went Carrie on Winslow? The longer I lived in this world, the more I viewed foreknowledge as a curse, not a blessing.
Fucking Max Anders was dead! The entire Empire ripped itself apart into a few factions! Who murdered him and twenty odd guards? Why now?
There was a damn parahuman assassin out there, and what if they went after me? Or attacked Annette? I knew there was no chance of ranking that high in importance, but damn, knowing I brought a baby into this hellworld affected me. Having Taylor and Annette already left me on edge, and now a baby? Would they even see four years before dying?
Fuck! I kicked the edge of the roof, shattering bricks and sending them clattering over the abandoned street below.
Sophia left me in the dust again, and I didn't know where she went, so caught up in my thoughts I was. That broken girl? The extremely violent one with the magnificent power to commit decisive strikes while existing outside any authority? A line of defense for those I cared about should I harness her.
Recruit, train, and shape into a lethal and stable machine.
A better fate than leaving her out there on her own. The Empire ripped itself apart, and much of the pretend superiority vanished with Kaiser. No longer did they keep themselves to mostly intimidating anyone not White, but moved to full-on assault or worse around the city in broad daylight. With how aggressive Sophia was… I didn't see her living through the year before ending up in a shitty situation and dying.
A solution to the problem, but damn my conscience.
Not only would I be taking an unstable parahuman off the streets, but I would save her from dying at her own hands. At least that's what I told myself, but I didn't know if it was true or not. All I knew was that I needed someone to watch over my new family when I wasn't there, someone who could take down even some of the strongest brutes.
I took a deep breath and calmed my racing mind. There was already more on my plate than I could handle, and yet I wanted more, needing to fill every waking moment with something-anything that pushed me forward. From four hours of sleep a day down to one, I could feel the stress burrowing into my brain.
The distinct sound of a hand slapping into flesh caught my ear. Then a high-pitched whimper followed.
I really shouldn't be so happy that I had a willing target for my frustration, but I was. A couple of buildings over, directly away from the last location, I saw Sophia. I spotted a white van parked in an alley. Two skinheads with a metal wolf stitched onto the back of their leather jackets pinned down a dog with an animal control leash. The long pole stopped the dog from nipping at them.
The dog itself had seen better days with patchy brown fur and ribs poking through; it was a small to medium-sized breed. The two Hookwolf lackeys dragged the dog into the back of the van, where a multitude of other dogs barked and whimpered.
Don't mind if I do. I slipped off the edge of the building, landing in a crouch and roll, springing to my feet. Each step splashed in murky trash water. I crossed the least distance with a slight leap, catching both van doors and swinging them closed on my way by, before ramming myself in with the goons, locking us all into the small space.
"What the FU-" Was all one said before he slammed into his partner and both into the cages.
Ten seconds later, the back door ripped open, and a gangbanger tumbled down the alley, the second joining him moments later. Both unconscious.
The cages inside the van contained thirteen dogs, most small to medium-sized, with only a couple exceptions. I scowled at what their grisly fates would've been before I found them. While undoing the latches would be easy, I took the time to crush them and rip the doors off. The dogs, while terrified of me, only took a little encouragement before escaping. One enterprising terrier pissed on the unconscious grunt.
I chuckled, amused at the vindictiveness even animals showed.
The last dog in the van was the one I was most weary of. Big, maybe a hybrid wolf, with pitch-black fur and shining eyes. It didn't growl or whine; it simply sat there, curled up in its too-small cage, watching me. Even two idiots got lucky, didn't they?
I cleared my throat. "You're not going to attack me if I let you? I would rather not get bitten."
The dog didn't respond because, of course, it couldn't. It was a dog. Yet, I second-guessed myself with the feral looks it gave me. Something existed behind those eyes, and it wasn't human, nor was it quite a dog.
I crumbled the latch between my fingers and pulled the door open, keeping it as a barrier between me and the dog. Said dog crawled out into the narrow space between the cages and stretched out, doing a shake as if this entire experience was just a nap. He glanced back at me, definitely a he and fixed; before trotting out the back. At least six feet long, standing just below my hip with a somewhat long coat, but that might be more of a stray problem than the dog's normal appearance.
Phew. As strong as I was, wrestling an aggressive hundred plus pound dog was bound to leave some injuries. I had to wonder: who would keep such a dog in Brockton, of all places?
"Ah!" One of the grunts screamed.
The dog had him by his legs, dragging him over to the other still-passed-out ganger. He tried to resist, but the dog clamped down harder, giving him a little shake. Once on top of each other, that was when the dog raised its leg. I laughed at the disparaging cries.
All that was left was to turn the van into a complete loss for the Empire while leaving it in good enough condition to get repaired if it was stolen. I ripped off the steering wheel, the fuse box, broke the ignition, and wrecked the gear selector.
With that done, my good deed for the day was done. I opened the driver's door and slammed it closed, walking away from the scene of the crime.
A slight pat-pat behind me had me looking back to find the big, shaggy dog following me. Its long snout hung open slightly with gleaming white teeth, even late at night. I turned the corner and leaned against the side of the building, waiting, and the dog still followed, sitting upon seeing me.
Hm. I wondered. "Heel." I pointed two fingers down on my left side.
The dog stood, padded over, and slid under my two fingers, inches from my leg. I ran a hand through its matted coat without so much as a flinch from him or an aggressive response.
"You're pretty smart and well trained." I ran my hand down around his neck, feeling for any bumps from a chip, but didn't feel any. No collar indentation, either. Hm, could I work in training a dog into my schedule? I scanned him again; his gleaming back eyes almost disappeared in the dark next to his black coat.
There was a chance he would only stay non-aggressive around me, but if he was this obedient for Annette and Taylor… I think I found another guard. But first, I would check with the vets.
"Come."
The dog followed right beside me, heading back to my SUV, which I parked a few miles away.
"Good morning, Annette."
"Mhm, Will, did something happen? You never call this early."
Ten was a bit early for me to call her. "Yeah, I came across a stray during my nightly run. He followed me home, and I took him to the vet to get checked out. No owners on record, and he doesn't exist in the database. So, I was wondering, What is your opinion about having a dog?"
"A dog? How… big?" There was a slight note of hesitation in her voice.
"… why do you think he's big?"
"Will?"
"Yes?"
"It's you. I don't think you would give a lap dog a second look."
"… fair."
"How big?"
I coughed into my hand, eyeing the magnificent bastard of a dog, his coat trimmed and gleaming after a good wash. If I didn't know better, he was posing and showing off. "Hundred and seventy pounds."
"Will!"
"Yes?"
Annette sighed, a long, weary one that didn't belong to someone who just woke up. "Is he trained at least?"
"Who do you take me as? I wouldn't dare bring him around either you or Taylor if I didn't think he was safe." That would be the very opposite of what I wanted.
He looked at me and chuffed. I swear that was an eye-roll.
"What breed?" Annette asked.
"The vet couldn't make heads or tails of him. We think he's a wolf hybrid, but he's lacking many of the traits. Too feral looking for a husky and lean for a sheepdog. Maybe a Belgian Sheepdog mixed with something bigger, but the hair is too short for that."
"Ugh, that isn't helping your case, Will. Color?"
"Black. Pure black."
"Please tell me he at least has a short coat."
"He does now." Not only did I take him to the vet, but I also paid for an expedient groomer to come in early.
"… how much did you spend? We're buying a house, Will. I'm quitting my job; we're having a child and a wedding! Can we afford him?"
Ah, oops. I just never paid attention to money, making far more than my bills or lifestyle consumed. That required some changes, but I had plenty saved up and was still making more. More than before with my promotion to squad leader. "A little over two grand… and sure, it's only going to be a couple thousand a year unless something happens."
"Fine, but I have the final say. I want to meet the dog and see how he is around Taylor. One stray bite and he's gone."
"Tonight?"
"Please."
"I'll see you then, Annette." She hung up, and I could tell she was still upset about dropping this on her, not that I blamed her.
I scratched the dog's head, and he wagged his tail.
"You need a name."
"Bork." He wagged his tail under the attention.
Hm. I could give him one, or I could leave it to Taylor and Annette as a peace offering. Yeah, that sounded better.
In one hand, I held the leash attached to the dog's hefty collar, and the other kept a firm grip on my peace offering to Taylor. A bribe. See, she didn't know about the baby, the wedding, or the move to a new house.
… I questioned Annette's planning, as she had been packing up everything in boxes for days now without saying anything. Taylor was smart in an annoying teenage way. Highly focused on a few subjects and beyond naïve about others. Hell, I still teased Kelly about Taylor's comment and the critical blow it turned out to be. If she did anything out of the ordinary, I just asked if it was a sex thing. Not today. Today was Kelly's sole day off, with her putting in six days of work, with Saturday being the rest day.
Two quick knocks on the door, and I glanced down at my dog. "Sit."
He sat down.
"Good boy."
The door flew open, and Taylor peered out. Her usual hoodie stretchy pant combo she wore around the house to Annette's never-ending problems. The girl liked being comfy, while Annette liked a presentable image. Inquisitive eyes ran over my face before turning to the dog by my side, staring down a dog maybe twice her size with hesitation. "Hi, Will. Who's that?"
"No name just yet. I found him during my nightly run." I stroked Dog's head. The fur was otherworldly in softness once cleaned.
Taylor squinted her eyes at me. "Right. Does Mom know?"
I snorted. What was I, some snot-nosed kid, picking up strays? I refused to answer that question. "Yeah, I called her."
She refused to move out of the doorway, keeping her hand on the knob. "And is he going to bite anyone?"
Dog took that moment to lick his chops, showing off an impressive array of teeth. Some over an inch long. Yeesh, that could take a chunk out of anyone, perfect as a guard dog. He intimidated me of all people, so I didn't blame Taylor.
"Nope, or I hope not. I'm keeping his leash on until I know."
"Okay, good!" Taylor let me into the house.
I shook my head in exasperation. Taylor continued to be absolutely adorable with how protective she was of Annette; just wait for the news about the baby and marriage. Would she support Annette or want to burn the world down? The suspense was killing me.
She spun around, glaring at me. "What's so funny?"
Dog jerked to a stop, flinching away from a girl weighing a hundred pounds soaking wet. "Nothing."
"Liar!" She shoved both hands on her hips, glaring up at me while still refusing to let me past her.
"Taylor! Let Will in!" Annette yelled.
"I'm watching you." Taylor made one last gesture before slinking into the house.
I raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with my dog, who looked just as confused. "After you."
"Bork." He didn't move.
"Coward."
"Bork."
Instead of dumping all the attention on the dog, he followed me in, hot on my tail. He waited ever so patiently for me to put my shoes on the rack and the bag by the side of the hallway, making sure to always stay behind my legs, peaking through at Taylor while sniffing. Was that why he got captured? He was just a big coward? I sighed, already too late, because I went and got attached to him. My plans fell apart like they always did.
The heavy smell of beef filled the house, along with a pleasant mix of others. Why Annette insisted on cooking dinner every night when pregnant, I didn't know, but I wouldn't bother arguing with her. She always won through pure stubbornness.
Taylor glared at me over the book she read on the couch, before sticking out her tongue and burying her face in the pages. Something was bothering her, and I had no idea what it was. If I could wrap my head around what she was thinking, then she might blame me for Annette packing. Yeah, that was it.
At the edge of the kitchen, I spotted a dropped piece of raw beef on the ground and a plate on the edge of the table. So did the dog, but somehow he didn't pull at the leash once while I waited at the invisible wall that separated the living room and the kitchen/dining room.
Though, Dog flinched upon spotting Annette, taking another hefty sniff and freezing.
Annette watched behind her glasses with crossed arms and a tapping foot, examining the dog's behavior from the side. She walked right past him and picked up the piece of meat, waving it around before going to the trash can. He whined, looking up at me and then at Annette, thumping his tail.
"Fine. You win," Annette conceded.
"I told you he's trained." Internally, I was quite proud of the dog's restraint, but that might be because of how much I spoiled him with homemade food and gourmet steak. If this was just last night, he would've been on the food, as any starving dog would've.
The dog snatched the strip of raw meat from the air and munched on it. Annette washed her hands and went back to cooking. "I have some rules."
"Lay them out."
"He can go on the couch, but that's it. No bed, no recliners. If you expect me or Taylor to walk that beast, you better have a damn good reason. He is not allowed in the kitchen while I'm cooking, period."
"I suppose I can live without him sleeping on the bed as long as I have you to snuggle."
"Did you just compare me to a dog?"
"Depends how bitchy you feel." A grin spread across my face.
Annette whirled around, pointing a gravy-laden spoon at me, her mouth twitching upward while she tried to keep it in a scowl. "You're going to accept your punishment like a man."
"Promise?" I wiggled my eyebrows.
"COULD YOU PLEASE STOP FLIRTING?" Taylor screamed.
I turned to look at her increasingly red face; she had failed to hide behind her book. "I suppose. Would you be okay watching the dog?" I had something else to talk to Annette about regarding another stray. Say what I would, teenage girls were not a known problem to me, and if I got involved at all in Sophia's life, Annette would know. I think I would just tell her about my job at this point.
"Yes. Fine. Whatever. Just stop flirting with Mom!"
I gave Dog a light pat on the head. "Be good."
The dog whined at me, wagging its tail. "Bork." Then he walked over to Taylor while dragging his leash on the carpet, sniffing at her knees with her feet tucked under her. She reached out a hesitant hand and scratched his head.
Good.
"Don't you dare touch anything until you wash your hands," Annette said without looking.
" Yes, Ma'am!" I turned on the sink, working away the nonexistent germs, as the dog was just washed and cleaned that morning. "You need to tell her."
Annette froze, clanking the spoon on the edge of the wide metal pan. "Tell her what?"
"Take a pick."
"It's too early." Annette jumped straight to the pregnancy.
"Pray tell, what's your reasoning about getting married and moving, then?" Those were some big changes, all because of one thing, and both were happening long before she gave birth. It was disrespectful to even pretend Taylor would buy the shit Annette was selling.
" It will be fine."
"Annette…"
"Taylor is my daughter. I know what's good for her." A touch of hysteria broke the stern tone.
I gave her the most disappointed look I could muster. This had nothing to do with Taylor's feelings and more with Annette being afraid of what her daughter would think of her. "Two months, and she's going to be my daughter, too."
" Step-daughter." That was probably the most hurtful thing Annette had ever said to me. As if she didn't extract a promise to treat Taylor like my own should anything happen and not to discard her for the coming baby.
Pure stubbornness mixed with irrationality. Maybe the seriousness of the pregnancy and how fast our relationship moved finally hit her. I took in her pale skin and the shaking hands clamped around the spoon before shelving the topic for a later date.
A flash of guilt passed over Annette's face before she turned away from me without apologizing. I nodded and left the kitchen without another word, instead stopping at the partition of the rooms to watch the unnamed dog and Taylor.
The scene was a touch concerning, with an occasional limb flailing under the dog's bulk while he lay on the couch, utterly relaxed, the squished Taylor not so much. I could hear muffled yelling from below, loud enough that I would've heard from the kitchen, so this was a new situation. Her book lay sprawled out on the floor, pages crinkled in awkward positions-not something she would willingly do. The impulse to yell at him quickly passed as he did nothing more aggressive than lay there.
I whistled, and he perked up, freeing her head.
"Get off me, you stupid mutt!" Taylor pushed against him and failed to budge him at all. In fact, he turned and leaned into her hands, like he thought she was giving him scratches. Annnnnd there's the lick with a foot-long pink tongue covered in drool. "EW!"
I really needed a name for him. "You okay, Taylor?"
"Your dog just fell over and almost killed me! I'm not okay!"
He cocked his head at Taylor and rolled his eyes before slinking off the couch and stretching for a half-step before collapsing. A sprawled-out mass of pitch-black fur covered a good portion of the living room floor. A far cry from the him of yesterday.
Taylor wiped at her face with her sleeves, focusing around her glasses instead of the large patch of drool going from her chin to her nose. That wasn't drool she was removing, but tears.
Oh. She heard us, and Dog comforted her through smothering. Definitely well-trained if misguided.
I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall, watching the dog lay there. Taylor sent some glances at me until she hid herself away in her hoodie.
Calmer, now, there was still Sophia I had to talk to Annette about, but maybe I could phrase it to let her see Taylor as someone besides just her daughter. Even with dinner a way off, I went about setting the table, this time not fumbling, having remembered where all the dishes were. Once done, I leaned against the fridge with crossed arms and waited for Annette to acknowledge me, which she stalwartly didn't, relentlessly stirring the stew.
"There's this teenager. Smart in a street way, but aggressive. Horrible home situation with a negligent mother and her abusive boyfriend. She's lashing out at anyone she sees as an acceptable target, projecting her helplessness on others, and refusing to help unless they help themselves first. She's going to get killed or ruin someone's life if nothing changes."
Annette paused her stirring, furling her eyebrows together. "Why do you care? There are hundreds of other teenagers in similar spots in Brockton alone. Do you plan on helping them all?"
That was remarkably cold of her. "But why shouldn't I try? That dog would've been put down without a second thought, and now look at him. I might only be able to help one person at a time, but a hundred people doing the same could change the city. I'd rather try to bail out the ocean than give up and drown. So, how do you think I should help?" A bit of a lie mixed with the truth. Selfish mixed with selflessness. What did the motivation matter compared to the end results?
"You say she's hardheaded?"
I nodded.
"Then all you can really do is give her choices. Trying to force anything will only make you an enemy. Teenagers always think they know best-reality plays no part. Be stern, lay out the options, and tell the truth." Annette went into lecture mode, telling me much of what I had already considered, but it was good to have a second opinion.
Yet my goal of making her see what she was doing with Taylor through a different lens failed. She even hit the issue on the head, but didn't acknowledge it. Oh, well, I tried, and just as she said, forcing the issue with someone hard-headed would only make me her enemy. Though I made sure to give her a look of disbelief, which she ignored again.
After a tense dinner, I sat on the living room floor with Dog sprawled all over me, lapping up the attention I was giving him. Annette took the chair behind me, sitting with her legs folded up under her. Then there was Taylor, the living embodiment of awkwardness, doing her best to find anything else to pay attention to besides us while not being able to stick her head in a book in ignorance.
"Taylor, I- we, have some news," Annette said.
I kept my mouth closed and my eyes down to keep the pressure off Taylor and let Annette dig her own hole. Only if things escalated would I step in.
"I proposed to William, and he said yes. We're getting married at the end of September. We talked and decided to move to a new house closer to downtown and Arcadia."
Wow, Annette just hit her with it all at once. I kept my head down, scratching Dog under his jaw.
"M-Mom! Y-your just throwing everything away! What about D-dad, Danny? You- he- just-" And the dam broke.
I sighed. Yup, as expected.
"I'm not throwing Danny away, but I'm moving on." That was the exact wrong thing to say, Annette.
"It's only been a year!"
"I'm healing." Foot met mouth.
"You're covering up! You've only known him for a few months! You don't even know what his job is. Will, you're not an analyst, are you?" Taylor directed her fury at me.
"Nope, I'm a PRT agent," I admitted. It was going to get out regardless, and I couldn't care less about toeing the line of revealing my job only to close family.
"You've killed people." Taylor accused me as if she knew what my job was already.
"I have," I answered, even to Annette's vocal displeasure.
"Mom, you're marrying a killer! Why? Why so quick?"
"I- I felt it was time."
"Liar."
" Taylor. I'm old-"
"Liar!"
"There's on-"
"LIAR!"
Fingernails dug into my scalp, and Dog whined pitifully. I glanced up at Taylor, noting the tears streaming down her face, standing up with balled fists by her side. She shook in anger with a beet-red face about to explode. "Taylor. Annette's pregnant."
"William McBride!" Fingers yanked at my ear from behind, which I ignored.
Taylor collapsed onto the couch, the wind gone from her sails, and Dog padded over, nuzzling up to her.
"I told you not to say anything!" Annette no longer tried to remain calm, and her voice said more than even looking at her would tell me. A calculated decision on who would be the most likely to forgive and move past the betrayal of trust. There was no winning, only losing less.
"Why?" Taylor asked.
"She's worried about her age. If she loses the baby, she doesn't want to worry you." I pushed myself up and out of Annette's frantic grip. If this went any other way, it would only drive a wedge between the two and maybe forever ruin my relationship with Taylor.
"Mom?" Taylor asked, to no answer.
I grabbed the bag I left by the front door and handed it to Taylor. "Happy belated birthday."
Taylor took the distraction with frantic need, tearing past the tissue paper and pulling out a gray hoodie covered in glowing blue lines. A sharpie-signed signature of Battery went across the upper right breast. Inside the bag was every last merch item Kelly had-all signed, too. She peeked inside the bag before closing it up.
"I, uh, need to think," Taylor said, then looked to Dog leaning against her legs. "Come… Mack." Vicious glee danced in her eyes until she saw my lack of reaction to her naming my dog. Then took off for the stairs, stomping the entire way with Mack plodding along.
"Taylor! We're not-"
"Annette." I interrupted her, and she directed all her fury and confusion at me.
Taylor slammed her bedroom door shut.
" You planned this from the start." An accurate accusation, but just one plan of a few I had.
"I did. Trying to force anything will only make you an enemy. Teenagers always think they know best-reality plays no part. Be stern, lay out the options, and tell the truth." I parroted back at her, word for word.
Annette's eye twitched. "See yourself out." She stood and went upstairs before slamming her bedroom door shut.
I shook my head, mother-like-daughter. This was going to be fun to clean up. At least I kept my streak of all plans crashing and burning.
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 12
Chapter 12
For how long I'd been here, I still wasn't sure if I could train to be stronger or if I even needed to. The PRTHQ lacked the equipment necessary to push myself, so I went months without and suffered no issues. With access to the Protectorate HQ and cape facilities, I obviously took advantage of such, but I hadn't noticed an appreciable difference. Pushing myself to 100% exertion felt lacking. Even when joints popped and muscles strained, I gained nothing.
The concept of being at my absolute peak annoyed me more than it should. Not even being three to six times stronger than the strongest human soothed my discontent. I sighed and lowered the five-hundred-pound dumbbells to the floor after doing seated shoulder presses. "Any questions?"
Kelly sat at a table we hauled into the gym, hunched over an old textbook. As this was a 'public' area, she had on her mask. "No. There's just a lot of stuff to memorize. I never considered proper crime scene etiquette. Do we even deal with that?"
"As a field agent, no. But knowing what to do to avoid disturbing them can make their job much easier. Who knows, you might want to retire from field work and take a detective job."
"I suppose. Do you think I'd be allowed to retire?"
A fair question, and if things went as expected without my shift, no, because we'd all be dead long before then. I actually haven't heard of a cape retiring outside, being maimed, or some other traumatic event. They almost always died long before they would, and powers only being around for thirty years at this point, leaving the average age well below retirement.
Kelly duly noted my silence. "I thought not."
"Squad 42, report to the emergency-ready room!"
I exchanged a glance with her and pushed myself up. "Looks like duty calls."
Kelly sat opposite me, squirming in her seat closest to the door. Holding the shield tight and cradled on her lap, awaiting deployment. Joining us was a motley crew of four different members from different squads each, for backup and scene containment. They weren't there to be in the thick of it, as all of them had assorted injuries, putting them on light duty, but the Empire throwing a fit strained the PRT to its limits.
At a generous estimate, Empire membership hovered around 5k in a city of 300k. Not all real gangbangers who acted as such full-time but who directly supported the cause and attended rallies. And, well, chaos breeds chaos. The more the different factions fought and threw around money, the more people indulged in it.
When a percent of the population went into rebellion, what the hell were the authorities supposed to do? There'd been talks about declaring martial law and bringing in the national guard, but fuck, Purity, Hookwolf, or any other major cape would roll through them, causing mass casualties.
Until things went bad enough to call in airstrikes, it was left to the PRT and police.
"Everyone clear on the engagement?" I asked through the comms.
A series of affirmatives sounded off.
"ETA?" I asked the driver. The blaring sirens and the roaring engine made small talk impossible.
"Ten seconds."
I spun around and presented my back to Kelly. She grabbed the two handholds protruding out until she hung off me. To match me, she had one located in the dead center of her chest, fuzed with the suit of body armor, now custom fit for her tiny frame of 5'4". The key was that her power required her to remain still to charge it, being limited to slight movements, but that was only limited to her. If I picked her up, she could charge while I ran around.
… or if I threw her. I called it a tactical redeployment.
The brakes on the van screamed, signaling our arrival. I ripped open the back doors, taking in the scene. Two in the afternoon, five miles off downtown to the south of the city, bordering on the urban sprawl. A simple two-lane road without the buildings being packed together like sardines and even plenty of vegetation. Police blocked off the road, stopping people from driving by a couple thousand feet down each road, so there were no bystanders to worry about.
And the source of the issue was one of the remaining gun stores in Brockton. A store Hookwolf had ripped the front off while grunts raided the place. I pocketed my pistol and charged. Neither rifle nor pistol would affect him, and without civilians in danger, I was given a not-so-subtle warning of no killing this time.
Hookwolf stared me down with his metal wolf mask and shirtless torso, both of which I found rather lacking. Mack was a damn sight more scary than that mask, and if I wanted to see real muscles, I just had to find a mirror.
"Charged," Kelly announced.
I pivoted, reaching back and grabbing the handle on Kelly's chest, and aimed at the open front of the store. Brace, twist, and launch, I sent Kelly flying through the air, leaving me to stare down the notorious killer.
"And look who it fucking is! McBride himself!" Hookwolf swung his arms wide, not giving the grunts a second look. "I've seen your work. Glorious! Come, I swear to only gut you after my victory."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. He knew my name. The Empire knew who I was. Shit.
This wasn't the time, not now. There was nothing I could do. It was already too late. I just had to get through this fight and start damage control. Hookwolf loved to fight, and this was an invitation to fight without his powers, but that would only last until I started winning. Either way, it would leave me within striking distance of him. Would the added distraction help?
Kelly touched down, blazing blue, and vanished with how fast she moved, barreling into the grunts within the store. It should take her a dozen seconds to disarm them, so no, there was no benefit to giving into Hookwolf's offer.
I snaked a hand around my back and pulled free a containment foam grenade, activated it with a twist, and set it for a second detonation. A part of me wanted to banter, but that would further tie me into the identity he had already labeled me as.
Seconds passed while we stared each other down. Kelly blazed through the grunts, and I awaited her signal of losing the charge she had built.
Hookwolf approached, arms still held wide, with a cocky swagger reaching his steps. That man had more pride and ego than Armsmaster. There existed no chance in his head that he would lose to me and Kelly. Something I strived to prove wrong.
Screaming came from the store, with a single gunshot going off.
"Everyone's disarmed-charging," Kelly reported.
That gave me ten seconds before she was ready to fight Hookwolf. "Aren't you worried about your crew?" I eventually asked, keeping my voice low and almost raspy.
Hookwolf laughed, "Those fucks? Nah. If they were worth anything, they would've taken that bitch out."
Fuck'm. He insulted Kelly. My internal clock ticked past the charge mark for her, and I still had a primed grenade in my hand. So far, I had never looked away from Hookwolf, so when I suddenly snapped my head to the left at the gun store, he followed me.
Honor was only for the honorable. I pitched the grenade straight at him, with it popping halfway in a shower of foam.
Only that the spray of liquid foam met a churning wall of metal. Nowhere near enough to lock him down, giving him plenty of leverage to turn into a blender, shredding the foam bit by bit.
Kelly slammed into Hookwolf shield first, launching his slightly larger and metal body down the street with a mighty clang. She gave me a cheeky wave before pausing to charge again, always staying topped off.
Now it was my time to take a crack at the grunts. She didn't have time to restrain them, but she did enough to leave the bunch of idiots without guns. If they didn't have guns, they weren't a threat to me. "Follow me in and get ready to extract."
The stand-ins to Squad 42 carried containment foam projectors, mostly for if things went tits-up. Hose everything down and retreat, but as Hookwolf demonstrated, it wasn't a one-stop solution to every problem. People were nuts, and the foam took time to settle. Everyone knew once the foam was on them, that was it, but some acted like animals backed into a corner and went insane.
"Get back here, you coward!"
I ignored the raging monster of metal and stormed through the broken front of the shop. Metal safety blinds laid torn across the floor with shattered glass. Inside, the eleven grunts hammered away at a locked display, trying to remove the rifles within. Some cradled broken fingers and wrists. Three, two larger muscle heads in assorted Empire wear and one lanky guy with long black hair turned to face me. "Surrender!"
"One on eleven? Surrender? Ha!" The guy slapped the lanky one. "Come, Jack, let's show him what the Empire is made of."
"I fucking told you to stop saying my name on the job!" He pulled a knife from the back of his pants and stabbed it at the middle guy, who jumped away.
"God dammit, Jack!" The second muscle head rounded on him, wrestling away the knife, while the other took the moment to line up a punch.
I was at a loss. Compared to the usual Empire competence, this landed exactly at the civilian level. No wonder Hookwolf didn't give two shits about them. They must be calling up everyone. I rolled my shoulders and dove into the scuffle before someone got stabbed. No doubt if they died, even by friendly fire, I'd get chewed out.
All it took was a couple of punches, a kick, and maybe a little light slapping, but all eleven lay groaning on the floor after a brief fight. Humiliated with their pride broken.
Two support agents rushed in, going from one to the next, zipping hands and feet together. I rushed out to support Kelly in her ongoing fight. Horrendous bangs mixed with metal scraping on concrete drowned out everything else. The remaining agents flanked me, holding their foam projectors towards the battling capes.
Hookwolf swelled up larger than a truck, a mass of undulating blades that emerged before submerging into the core, only to be replaced by another. Churning, ripping, and scraping away everything touching, be it rock or metal. Kelly faced him, her shield remaining compact and intact, but the decals didn't last under the onslaught. Whatever the alloy Armsmaster used, it was enough to withstand Hookwolf's churning blades.
I pulled a second grenade from my utility belt and primed it. Only for the sad fact that Hookwolf was a skilled and highly experienced combatant. What appeared as a whirling ball of chaos to the untrained eye were instead calculated maneuvers Kelly played into with her inexperience. He kept her positioned between the PRT forces and him while retreating a couple of feet at a time.
"On me. Incoming Battery." The two agents jogged at my side while swinging wide of the fight. The two capes battled on the left side of the road, and we jogged along the right sidewalk. Chunks of road and other debris rained down, enough so that an unarmored person would end up injured.
Kelly launched herself away, putting some distance between her and Hookwolf, and the blue lines on her increased in intensity.
Instead of reengaging to stop her from charging, Hookwolf shifted into a lupine metal beast. "Fucking cowards! I'll get my fight, McBride!"
He twisted and launched himself through the shop behind him, collapsing it in his wake. At least we knew it was evacuated. Everything around the fight was. Only idiots remained near Hookwolf with his perspicacity for killing.
"Hold!" I shouted before Kelly rushed off in pursuit.
"We can get him!"
"But at what cost?" Hookwolf ensured everyone knew his tactics. When he fled the battle, if anyone pursued him, he caused as much collateral damage as possible. People, buildings, or anything that he saw, he would destroy. I wanted to capture him too for knowing who I was, but if Hookwolf knew, the Empire knew. Something I would think about later and what I needed to do.
"Arg!" Kelly stomped her foot, cracking the tarmac below her.
Her ambition and dedication made her an excellent student, but it came at a cost whenever she felt like she failed. Something that needed to be tempered, lest she get goaded by enterprising individuals.
"Henry, Hookwold fled the field. Eleven Empire grunts, captured. Waiting on scene until support personnel arrive."
"Copy. Any specialized services required?"
Aka, did they need someone to scrape bodies off the ground and clean up the leftover mess? "No KIA, fire services are required to check over two demolished buildings."
"Good work, McBride."
The police quickly filled in, taking the detained grunts away and fleeing the scene. Reprisals were far too common to stick around.
Back at the Protectorate HQ out on the Bay, I finished up my AAR and the personal information obstruction form. All it would do was keep any public record of mine sealed unless a sealed warrant signed by the PRTENE director or higher authority allowed it to be accessed. It was a huge pain regarding credit and loans, or anything that required a certified history, but it would keep all information about me sealed tight.
That meant marriage certificates, car ownership, and titles. Everything that could and would lead the Empire to Taylor and Annette. Not to say it was impossible to track me down, but it made the job far more difficult and hopefully gave me a heads-up before they launched an attack.
I was still absolutely pissed that they even knew who I was. The only hope was that they didn't know my appearance, only that I was an agent on Squad 42 with Battery, so that if Battery was on the field with a large agent, they knew it was me. A faint hope, but it was all I had.
But that meant someone was leaking information from the PRT. I had a suspicion about who, but I hadn't seen that fuck Calvert around after I mentally promised to cuff him the next time I saw him. I wasn't sure what my response would be now, but it would be a hell of a lot more than a light cuff.
I left the temporary room assigned to me, leaving all my gear behind. That was my second set, having my other at PRTHQ downtown, but bouncing around both locations and being on call necessitated two different sets.
"But Puppy, we had a deal." An annoying whiny voice complained.
"A deal? You blackmailed me! What self-respecting hero would say no to taking a villain off the streets? How could I've said no to Legend?" Kelly's voice progressively got louder and more indignant.
I scowled and stepped around the corner, coming face-to-face with Kelly and Assault, the flamboyant idiot in his pure red suit. So far, I remained undecided on whether he was just a pain in the ass or an active creep. "Battery, all finished?"
She spun to me, her frown replaced with a smile. "Yes, Sir. I finished the AAR and returned my equipment for repairs."
"So this is him? The guy you replaced me with?"
Kelly scoffed. "As if there's a comparison."
"I knew it, Pu-"
"You're trash compared to Sergeant McBride," Kelly spat out.
Assault stumbled back, his hand clasped over his heart. "Puppy." Though his eyes locked onto me,. "I have an agreement with dear old Battery and Legend about being on her team. It'd be a shame if that came up during my next check-in."
"Okay, you can join my team, then." I offered.
"Will!" Kelly instantly reacted, shocked.
"But you will be under my command." And now the ball was in his court. The thing stopping him would be his pride and knowing I had authority over him, not that anyone was reneging on his agreement. If he agreed and I determined he acted inappropriately, then I could also sanction him.
That shut him up, but I saw the calculations taking place behind his eyes. Would he push the matter?
"Will, let's go," Kelly said.
"Puppy, isn't your shift over? I didn't know you had an apartment off-base," Assault said.
"I don't. I just don't want to be here right now." Kelly spun on her heel and stalked away.
I shrugged at Assault, keeping my mirth carefully contained. While confident in many ways, Kelly tolerated a little too much, so seeing her yank the rug out from under Assault and then disengage made me proud.
Around the next bend, Kelly waited for me, out of sight of Assault. She fell in step while heading to the motor pool. Being an old oil rig, there wasn't room for personnel vehicles, so I-we-needed a ride back to the parking lot on the other side of the rainbow bridge.
"Are you doing anything later?" Kelly asked and then stumbled over herself. "Not a date. That's not what I meant. Like hanging out or going to eat… I'm really not helping."
"What's next, seeing a movie?" I asked, and the blush extended down her visible cheeks.
"Shut up."
"Wait until we're in my car; I'd rather not have people overhear," I said, still thinking of the leak. Sometimes, I really hated this world and how anyone remotely powerful or important could face the many villains that exist. Mentally stable, they were not-equipped with powers to do anything, up to violating the sanctity of the mind.
What could happen to Taylor and Annette while outside my reach was limitless, and I brought them under the spotlight of the Empire. I should've kept my head down and just been a normal agent. If this had happened before I met Annette, I wouldn't have ever gone so far and worked from the shadows, but it was too late for that. Far too late.
Behind Kelly's back, I flipped off a duo of agents manning the door while they made kissing motions at each other. The rumors were getting a bit out of hand. Though she was another angle someone could use against me, she could hold her own against most threats. I was worried about Cauldron and other non-direct attacks or manipulations.
Besides more awkward small talk while avoiding any identifying details, the trip back went in silence. But the moment I closed my car door and Kelly stripped off her mask, I sighed and collapsed in my seat. Weakness wasn't something I could show, ever, but I felt I could trust her. I already did with my life.
"Something's eating at you."
"You heard how Hookwolf called me out."
"Yeah, that bastard! The unwritten rules should work both ways!" Kelly said, anger coloring her tone.
"No one cares about those rules, but that's only the start of it. I tried to get Annette to tell Taylor that we're having a child, and that's why the sudden move and marriage," I started, unlatching the armrest and taking out my gold band to slip onto my ring finger. "She was heavily against it."
Deep breath, in and out. I put the SUV in gear and pulled out into traffic. That happened last Saturday, and four days later, things still hadn't settled between Annette and me.
"They blew up on each other with neither Taylor nor Annette willing to back down, so I threw it out there. At least Taylor seems to accept me now." And another sigh that almost seemed like a default state at this point.
"I'm so… sorry?" Kelly tried.
"Still don't like her, do you?"
"She insulted and threatened me the first time we met! Taylor's cute, though, but she definitely inherited her mother's tongue." She ran a hand through her cropped hair, gazing out the window at the city on edge.
"Well, that's where I'm going. Taylor seized watch duty for Mack during the day, so I have to pick him up, take him for a run, and then it's back to my place to pack. Are you sure you want to come along?" I asked. If Annette came out to meet me, she wouldn't spare any tact for Kelly.
She laughed, but it lacked humor. "And where would I go? I don't have any friends here, and I'm certainly not staying on base with Assault hanging around. Not that I have time to make any."
"You know, once I move out, I still have six months on my lease. If you're willing to take the risk of the Empire attacking you, it's yours."
Those puppy dog eyes had no right being on someone so deadly. "Really?"
"Sure."
"You have no idea how hard it is to find an apartment that's not falling apart. You'd think that the PRT would help, but nooooo. Blah, blah, blah, on-base apartments are free. They just want us to be there if they need to call us in, but it's like I never leave work. Always there, always needing to be in costume, and the damn clown is always hovering around! Ugh! Thank you, Will, really, thank you!" Kelly said, leaving her staring at me.
"It's nothing." That passionate speech over something in my interest left me feeling slightly awkward and guilty. If she took over the rent, I wouldn't have to pay it or the fine for breaking the lease. Not that I would say as much and ruin her mood. "If you need to get off base, you can have the couch whenever you want." I offered regardless of the talk that would happen behind our backs, but that was already happening.
"What about Annette?"
"You said she threatened you into watching my back. Wouldn't this just be following her orders?"
"For how big you are, you're kinda sneaky."
If only you knew, Kelly, how much my sneaky plans exploded in my face, you wouldn't think so highly of me.
On the way to the Hebert house, I stopped at a flower place on the boardwalk and bought a single red rose. This was just one stop in a big circle to lose any followers.
"Are you sucking up to her?" Kelly asked, holding the flower before her, spinning it around. "You weren't wrong if you told me the truth."
"But I'm not saying I was, as I still can't think of a better way out, but I did break her trust, so that's what I'm apologizing for."
"You're too good for her."
I shrugged. "I made my bed, and now I'm laying in it." It was our first fight, and it was about a serious matter Annette felt was hers to deal with. Throwing everything away and splitting with a child on the way felt incredibly foolish. I wasn't that proud or had such a fragile ego to burn everything down and make life worse for everyone. What was one slight against the wellbeing of three people?
If it were just Annette and me, I would've pushed back far harder, but it wasn't. I still had this hope of completing my initial plan of training Taylor into the god killer Earth Bet needed, yet it felt so cruel to condemn her to that horrible life. Approaching Cauldron was looking better by the week, even if I wholly disagreed with their operational modus.
"Way too good for her."
And there came the guilt again. I didn't feel like I was good enough for anyone. Not now with how the Empire was coming after me and they were caught in the crossfire.
After that, Kelly put on the radio, doing well to stay clear of any reporting on the current state of Brockton. Sensationalism and pessimistic rhetoric on the PRT's actions reached an all-time high, and if it was my guess, the Empire was pulling strings to keep the public's attention elsewhere while they vied for control. Would they split into factions, or would they consolidate after one person took command?
Deep down, I prayed the Gesellschaft stayed well away and didn't turn the Empire into an offshoot. Knowing my luck, Brockton would turn into a war zone as they expanded into the states.
Then there was the Teeth. I'd rather not have to deal with them, ever. The shit they pulled made the Empire look tame. Only the Butcher kept them from being hunted down by both villains and the PRT alike. This was shaping up like the Boston games all over again.
I pulled into the driveway, taking the rose from Kelly. "Staying in here?" I asked.
She mulled over the question. "That'd just make me look guilty. It's better to have everything out in the open."
Ah, she was learning. I was so proud. "Don't be frightened, but Mack is… a little on the bigger side and a tiny bit scary."
Kelly snorted, "I just fought Hookwolf. What's a dog?"
I reached out to knock, but the door swung open before I could. Taylor stood there, wearing her signed Battery hoodie, staring at me. "I'm here to pick up Mack."
Taylor leaned to the side, staring at Kelly. "What's she doing here?"
It was at that moment that Mack peeked around Taylor, his massive black head at about chest level for her, joining in with the staring.
Kelly squeaked and used my arm to throw herself behind my back. "That's not a damn dog!"
I met Taylor's eyes and matched her forming grin. "Don't hurt his feelings, Kelly. He's a good boy."
Taylor hugged Mack's neck, burning her face into his short black fur. He took that moment to yawn, showing off a set of teeth and a mouth large enough to encircle anyone's neck. "Aren't you a good boy? Yes, you are!"
Thwack, thwack, thwack. Mack's tail banged against the wall around the corner of the entry hall.
"Will, what is that thing? Where did you find it? Will!" Kelly yanked on the back of my jacket, and for a moment, I was worried she was going to out herself and start charging her power.
"It's fine. He's a perfectly safe dog."
"Not a DOG! And why do you sound so suspicious?" Kelly jabbed me in the back with a finger.
"Is Annette in, Taylor?" I asked while ignoring Kelly.
"Yup. She's in her room." Taylor said it with crossed arms and a scowl.
If Annette was still angry at me, Taylor was pissed at her. I pulled the rose out from around my back. "I'm going to go see her, and then I'll be off." I ignored the twitching in Taylor's eyes and stepped around her to head upstairs.
"Haha, uh, good boy, Mack?" Kelly stammered.
"Get her, Mack!" Taylor called out the attack.
"Bork!"
Bang! "AHhh! Keep him away!" Kelly ran away from Mack, flying through the living room and into the kitchen with him right at her heels.
Taylor's cackling laughter echoed throughout the house. I shook my head at the little troll.
"Will! Save me, Will!"
"It's only you, me, and Mack now!" Taylor cackled, and her far smaller feet thumped after Mack and Kelly.
"Bork!"
"Taylor, please, I'll do anything!"
"Anything?"
Kelly laughed awkwardly. "Can I take that back?"
"Mack?"
"Bork!"
"Fine! Fine! What do you want?"
"Give me your hand."
They'd be fine. I rapped my knuckles on Annette's door.
"Come in, Will." I heard the sigh through the door, but she let me in today, unlike the last few times I stopped by.
Inside, she sat at her desk, hunching over a stack of notebooks with towers of books arrayed around her. A buzzing laptop displayed a half-written document. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'm preparing my syllabus for whoever takes my job. Mostly copying and organizing my course work from my years of teaching. It's tedious, but the facility requires it if I want to keep my tenure with how sudden my resignation was," Annette explained, a little cool but without a bite.
The fact she was still doing so said far more than just her current actions. She still planned on marrying me and moving into a house together. That the kid was still on the table and not planning on an abortion, even if it would unfuck everything.
I pulled the rose out from behind my back. "Sorry for betraying your trust, Annette."
Annette stared at the pink rose, unmoving. Then she sighed, holding out a hand for the rose. "Apology accepted. Perhaps I was too harsh on you and a little patronizing to Taylor." She stood, brushing out the wrinkles in her blouse and knee-length skirt. The rose ended up in a glass of water, and she grabbed hold of both my hands with hers.
I cocked an eyebrow, looking expectantly at her.
At least she had the humility to blush. "I'm… sorry. Are you staying for dinner? Maybe longer?"
"Oh?" I asked, and a forming smile tugged at my cheeks.
"I've grown used to the company." Annette held her nose high.
"… at night?" I finished for her, and her growing blush confirmed it. "Anyway, Kelly's downstairs with Taylor and Mack. They seem to be getting along well, but I offered her my couch to spend the night on. So I still need to drop her off before coming back."
Annette hummed, searching my face for something. "Doesn't she have a place to stay or family?"
"She lives on base, and there's someone there she'd rather avoid."
A moment of realization dawned on Annette. "And you took her under your wing. As expected of you, Will. I'd offer her to stay here, but we have even less room than you do."
"That's why I'm going to let her take over my lease."
"… you could stay with me until we purchase the new house."
"Do you think the bed could take me?" I eyed the queen mattress, far smaller than my king, and the wooden frame didn't give me high hopes for it lasting through any sudden movements.
She laughed. "It doesn't need to last long. I still need to finish up, so why don't you get everything sorted downstairs? Don't forget to offer Kelly to stay for dinner… once I figure out what we're having." She mumbled the last part to herself.
I wrapped her in a tight hug, resting my chin on her head. "I'm glad we got over it."
"Me too, Will, me too."
Then came the discussion of the Empire, knowing about my identity. Surprisingly, Annette wasn't exactly shocked by the turn of events and appreciated having Mack around a bit more. She trusted me to handle it, and I felt the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. So much to do-so much to plan. Contingencies and active obscuration. The SUV had to go.
I left her to finish up her work while deep in thought to find out what the three were up to downstairs. Only to see Kelly sitting on the couch with Mack staring at her by her side, his face inches away from hers. Taylor paced around the living room with one hand on her jaw.
Kelly sent me pleading eyes, and I shook my head, welcoming the distraction. What a show Taylor was putting on!
"What is your relationship with Will?" Taylor asked.
"He is my leader and teacher."
"Hm. That's not everything."
Kelly tried to laugh it off, but it came out extremely forced. "That's everything happening between us."
"Better."
Taylor didn't need to have a power to be intimidating-she just was. I think giving her Mack maybe wasn't the best idea. Was her grilling everyone about their intentions a normal thing for her or a recent one?
"Taylor."
"Will." She didn't look up from her pacing, besides sending scathing looks at Kelly.
I made the executive decision that Kelly was having dinner with us because watching the two was far too amusing. And adorable.
Taylor took a break from Kelly to glare at me and then returned to intimidating the poor woman.
"We're staying for dinner-"
"Will, nooooo," Kelly whined.
"So I'm taking Mack for his run. I'll be back in half an hour. Enjoy!" Okay, maybe I was a bit sadistic at times.
"I'm coming with youuuuu!" Kelly leapt to her feet and dove for me.
Taylor clasped her hands together and looked up at me with her big, brown-doe eyes, blinking rapidly. "Can I pleeeease come with you?"
"Sure, but you have to ask your mother first." Internally, I celebrated, as this would be a good start to getting Taylor into shape. But I didn't expect her to hug my chest; her head didn't reach past my ribcage. I ran a hand down her curly hair and melted, officially shelving my plans to train Taylor forever.
"Mhm, thank you, Will!" Taylor's head turned toward Kelly, and I swore I saw the flash of a pink tongue.
Kelly had this look of being affronted-a deep frown-while she glared at Taylor in turn. A shaky finger jabbed at her.
Of course, Mack decided he needed to join in, coming down from the couch before jumping at me, sending himself flying. "Bork!"
I slid Taylor out of the way as I caught the Macktastic missile, cradling the hundred and seventy-pound dog like a baby. He looked far too pleased with himself, with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging. Though not without scrutiny from Taylor.
Last edited: Feb 23, 2024
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.
Chapter 13
AN: Got sick, really sucks the motivation from writing. Better now, but skipped a week and I'm thinking about shifting to posting to Thursday. Anyway, enjoy that chapter!
Beta'd by Grim Tide
Chapter 13
(Taylor)
This was a surprisingly nice day, all things considered. The growing network of emotions connected Taylor to more people than she believed she would ever care about. There was Mom, a ball of complexity. Taylor struggled to make heads or tails of her on the best of days, but she knew Mom loved her and Will, and that was all that mattered.
Then there was Will, the PRT agent, who harbored some deep-seated guilt. He cared for her and loved her mom. Not enough to replace Dad, but she understood he was gone as much as it hurt. But beyond the guilt and caring, there was a burning anger that never went away. She didn't know what it was about or who it aimed at, but it flared at the strangest times for seemingly no reason.
Next was Kelly. A recent addition that came with Taylor's better understanding of her powers. All it took was a verbal agreement and an expectation of answering her, regardless of the severity or method by which she extracted it. Having someone younger connected to Taylor did let her understand the maturation of emotions. Will and Annette were relatively static at the base, with a large amount of complexity stemming from that. They knew roughly what was happening and had thought about such a thing before. Or so Taylor guessed.
Kelly snapped around, unsure, and came to sudden conclusions that lacked much emotional depth. It was very easy for Taylor to lead her around, stringing opportune words at the right moments. She'd never admit it, but it was fun messing with Kelly.
Then the last and most surprising addition threw her entire understanding of her power out the window: Mack. His emotions were rather simple and wholehearted compared to humans. He was just a dog, so it wasn't a surprise.
There was always the opportunity to push her power further with Mom and Will, but she really didn't want them to find out. She had this fear that Will would turn her into the PRT or that Mom would send her away to some cape camp, even though she looked and didn't find anything on the internet. The fear of losing Mom and a little for Will kept her from saying anything.
So Taylor pushed her power a little harder with Mack, and the bond increased. She called this level two, and the requirements seemed to revolve around trust. It gave her an insight into Mack's thoughts along with his emotions. That came with Mack being able to follow her will without saying anything. At that point, Taylor got really worried that she was an evil master, but she tried to have Mack stop eating the gourmet steak Will cooked for him (the stupid idiot spent more on Mack's food than her!), and Mack gave her a stink eye and kept eating.
That was relieving. So she pushed her power to bond three with Mack while she lay in bed, snuggling up to him. What Mom didn't know couldn't hurt her! And suddenly, she was scared again. Each of his senses was hers. Her orders were commands. And his motivation became hers. It wasn't one way as Mack reacted to stuff she thought about and saw. Just really confusing if she controlled him or if he understood why she was ordering him and went along with it. Was it because he was a dog, and that was why he followed her orders so easily?
Taylor tried doing the same thing with a bug she found without any luck. The stray cat also escaped her power. Why it worked on Mack and not the other animals was up to debate, but she believed it was because they didn't care to follow her instructions or agree with them.
Anyway, she followed Will down the boardwalk with Mack. Mom wasn't there, having to do some shopping on her own and more packing preparations. That's what she said, but Taylor knew better-something to do with knowing Mom's emotions. She wasn't that far off, maybe a mile or a little further, feeling pure worry and frustration. Not that Taylor forgave her for hiding that she was going to be a big sister! That she and Will were getting married or moving to a new home!
Grrr.
Taylor coughed into her hand, ashamed. That was the reason Mom didn't go shopping with them for her school supplies. Taylor was a little tiny bit snippy. She tried not to be, but sometimes her mouth moved before she could think.
Mack turned his head to the side, and Taylor's eyes widened, snapping to look at what he spotted. Enchanted Brews. Just what she needed! Who's a good boy? Yes, you are, Mack. Yes, you are!
"Will!"
"Yeah?"
Okay, now to play up the adorableness she hated. "Can we pleeeeeeease go there? It's Enchanted Brews, and the tea there is amazing!" She pointed at the extremely expensive tea shop Mom brought her to once on her birthday without Dad knowing. He always complained that a twenty-dollar cup of tea was robbery when they had tea at home. That wasn't how it worked, but he never understood.
Will shrugged his shoulders. There was not a hint of resistance against her weaponized adorableness.
"Aroo?" Mack asked, giving his most cute look at Will. Wide eyes shone in the afternoon sun and gleamed on silky, smooth fur.
"Yes, I'll ask if they have doggy biscuits." Will gave in once again.
Taylor held out her hand, and Mack slapped a paw on it. Was it strange that her best friend was a dog bigger than her? No. She'd slap whoever dared to mention it as such. Her power gave her an in-depth look at what a dog felt and thought-what Mack felt and thought. He was anything but a simple creature with his own wants and thoughts.
A quick yank on Mack's sense of smell enhanced hers enough to pick out the blends in stock. Ah, her mouth was watering.
Taylor grabbed the best spot on the outside patio, happy that they had one, as most places were a little weary of letting Mack in. He was such a sweet boy. How was anyone scared of him? He plopped his head on her lap, and she scratched behind his ear, finding the perfect spot through the connection, relishing the pure satisfaction of getting the perfect spot with her fingernails.
Ah. Taylor blushed, stopping herself from tapping her leg. Not that Mack had any such reservations. She avoided Will's eyes, having known exactly what he felt at the scene, and she refused to be any more embarrassed than she already was.
A pretty, blond waitress came over. The moment she laid eyes on Will, she swayed her hips all the more. A mote of attraction sparked in his mind. Taylor ensured she leveled the right amount of glare at him for thinking anyone but her mother was attractive-not that she liked feeling that, but it was only right!
Will weathered her glare without a reaction, but the spark of attraction swiftly turned into amusement. The bastard.
"Hello, welcome to Enchanted Brew. I'm Mellisa, and I'll be enchanted to serve you today." Mellisa never took her eyes off Will.
Hussy.
Mack yipped, startling Mellisa. Good boy.
"Ah, good dog?" She took another step away, sparing most of her attention on Taylor and Mack rather than ogling Taylor's soon-to-be stepfather. Gone was the flirtatious body language, and it was replaced with fear. Perfect.
Taylor prodded Mack to yawn, and he did. Mellisa froze. "Menu please!" Taylor asked in her sweetest voice.
With a shaky hand, she passed one to Taylor, but Taylor kept her hand out for Will's. Taking it, she passed it across the small glass table to him.
" Thank you." Taylor smiled.
"Yes, thank you. We'll be ready in five minutes?" Will questioned, looking over at Taylor to see if it was right, and she nodded. "Five minutes."
Mellisa fled.
"That wasn't nice, Taylor. She was only doing her job." Will chided her. More of a soft disciplining and one Taylor didn't take seriously when there was no emotional reprimand behind it. Like he knew no matter what he said, she wouldn't do anything differently, which he was correct! But she didn't like that he knew her well enough to know such things!
"She was flirting with you! Hmph!" Taylor crossed her arms and glared at him, prodding Mack to show her support in her recrimination, but the damn dog rolled his eyes at her. That's it. Best friendship over.
Mack whined. Fine, best friendship back on. A few select scratches mended the bridges ruined from the spat between them. She could never hold it against Mack-really, anyone bonded with her, even Kelly. They were everything to Taylor. Everything.
"Just because the waitress flirted with me, that doesn't excuse you from threatening her. I'm not going to cheat on your mom, but expecting either of us to not find anyone else attractive is ridiculous." Will didn't have the decency to look at her when he talked, taking the menu in hand.
Taylor dropped her eyes to the menu sitting in front of her, definitely not wanting to cross her arms or pout. It wasn't like she needed to look to know what she wanted to drink.
Before Taylor knew it, Mellisa was back, stupendously keeping plenty of distance between her and Mack. "I'll have a blend of Assam, lapsang souchong, and two drops of bergamot oil. Orange blossom honey on the side." Mack dug his nose under her hoodie and pressed his cold nose against her side. "Oh! Two doggy biscuits, fresh. Thank you!"
"Yes… and what would you-" She flicked her eyes over to Taylor. "-like?"
Clear confusion radiated off Will, even without the bond. Mellisa clearly wanted to suggest something or even talk about the selection, but she kept her mouth shut. Good. "I'll have the… DBS with two sugars and cream."
Taylor cocked her head to the side. The death before sleep? The blackest of black French-pressed coffees? Did Will even drink coffee? She never saw him drink anything besides water and the occasional glass of wine with Mom. There was a brief desire to help him choose, but that nefarious whimsey swept that away. She learned to tolerate much, but she needed some sort of payback when they occupied the room down the hall from her.
The waitress escaped her stern gaze, leaving just her and Will. Mack didn't count because he was absolutely on her side.
Will clicked his tongue, and Mack abandoned her.
That's it, friendship over.
"Too cu-"
"Don't you dare."
"-te."
"Bastard." Taylor scowled at him, desperately trying to ignore Mack's thumping leg and the feedback coming from his absolute bliss at being scratched.
"Wouldn't Annette love to hear you talking like that?" Stupid cocky smile and gorgeous flowing ginger locks. It was so much better than the curly nest of tangles she fought with every morning. Not the color part; she'd die if she were ginger.
"Well, Mom isn't here," Taylor snapped with a little more venom than she intended, so she stuck her tongue out at him, trying to obfuscate that she lost control. No, instead she was a mile west and a quarter north and anxious to hell with a splash of resoluteness.
"You know she wasn't trying to hurt you," Will said, rubbing a thumb from Mack's snout down between his eyes until reaching his ears. At the same time, Will kept his other hand on the table, tapping away with a single finger, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Yeah? How would you like to be treated like a baby? I'm fourteen! I'm practically an adult, and I'm smart, responsible, and know how to take care of myself. She lied to my face and refused to listen to me." Taylor's hand slapped around the table, stinging from the impact. A radiant blush burned at her cheeks from the attention everyone around them suddenly paid them, and she pulled her arms under the table. Flipping her hood up hid her from them, but not Will.
The emotions that came off him rankled her even worse. Amusement and exasperation. Mack wormed his nose under her arms, and she had no choice but to pet him. "You're still a teenager, Taylor. Show that you're worthy of the trust, and I'll help make her see you as your own person. But remember, this is still Brockton, and it's less about you and not trusting everyone else."
"That has nothing to do with the baby!"
"And are you just upset about Annette hiding the baby?"
"Shut up." Taylor hid herself further into her hood, not bothering to meet the waitress' eyes as her tea came. A little bowl of honey and a timer accompanied the teacup. Two large biscuits sat on a fancy napkin.
"Thank you," Will said, taking his tiny cup from the waitress, no bigger than a couple of his fingers together. Confusion whirled in his eyes, then he took a sip.
Sheer overwhelming disgust radiated down the bond, but he kept it hidden. He quickly settled the cup on the serving tray, and a frown tugged at his lips while regaling the extremely expensive coffee. "Nope."
Taylor giggled. Sweet payback.
She would admit in the sanctity of her mind that finishing Will's drink wasn't the smartest decision she ever made, not after drinking her tea. Soooo much caffeine. Mom never let her drink this much!
Okay, okay, okay, OKAY, OK, calm, gentle movements. Hands, please stop twitching.
"Are you okay?" Will asked, and she could feel the pure amusement radiating off him.
"I'm-just-fine!" Taylor coughed into her hand. "I'm going great! Doing great; I'm doing just fantastic."
"Right." Of course, he didn't believe a single word she said. The bastard, but was he? The best tea, let her drink his coffee, and she had Mack because of him! As much as she hated to admit it, she'd allow Will to marry Mom.
The Hussy came back, steering wide around Taylor as she should, but way too cozy to Will. Only this time, Mack was giving Taylor weird looks instead of being the valiant defender! "Mack-Mack-Mack-Mack-Mack-Mack!" No! Don't pin her down! Not the drool!
"Is your daughter okay?"
Taylor froze, hands busy fending off a slobber-covered face. Mom and Will were getting married, so that did make her his stepdaughter, which was weird. It still stung that someone was taking Dad's place, but she had to admit that having someone else besides Mom in her life was nice.
"She stole my coffee." Will took the check and pulled out his wallet.
That was a bald-faced lie! Taylor asked, and he gave it to her! "Liar!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. DBS is not recommended for anyone below the age of eighteen because of how much caffeine it contains. I don't think she's getting any sleep tonight." The Hussy rightly pointed this out, much to Taylor's annoyance.
"I can tell. Here." A flash of bills crossed hands. "Keep the change."
"Thank you. I love to see you again… maybe without the dog." And Taylor, but at the Hussy kept that last part to herself.
Will chuckled, shaking his head. "Sadly, I'm not much of one for coffee or tea. Have a pleasant afternoon." He stood up.
Taylor jumped to her feet, followed by Mack, who kept jabbing her with his nose and forcing her near Will. "Stop it!"
Mack slipped around her again, pushing her back and cutting off her routes before she could think of going in a different direction.
"I think you're being herded," Will said, leaving the outdoor patio, and Mack forced her to follow him against her every mental order.
"I can tell!" Stop! Ack!
Then the equivalent of cold water ran down Taylor's back. She instantly straightened out, eyes wide, as she stared right at Will. Mack stopped messing with her, saddling close to her side as all the hair on his neck stood on end, catching wind of the sudden change. A growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating Taylor to her core.
A cold rage suffused Will. His hand clamped down on the back of Taylor's neck so quickly that she didn't see it coming. Just like that, she lost control of where she walked, being steered clear through the crowd of people to the edge of the walkway. His free hand tapped away on his cell phone.
"Don't look. We're being followed. When we get to the alley, I want you to take Mack and run. Okay?" Will said it under his breath, just loud enough for Taylor to hear over the bustling people. A woman stopped in their way, and he walked straight through her, sending her stumbling away with the barest shove.
Taylor's hammering heart jumped a couple of notches, going straight into palpitation levels. The regret was strong, but she was forced to think harder than she ever had before. Will was a PRT agent. He knew how to fight more than she ever could, but he didn't have any of his fancy armor or weapons. If this was serious enough that he wanted her to run, and the worry and anger coming off him said it was, then he needed every bit of help she could give him.
The question was, did she trust him enough to reveal her power to him? Just by being able to go to level 2 bond meant he trusted her. The shared thoughts would help, but Taylor was aiming for level 3, which would share skills and senses. If Taylor and Mack watched his back, that would help, right?
Taylor forced her power through the skin contact they shared. Will's mind bloomed in her head, and she instantly understood how above her he was. There was no possibility of her commanding him, much less influencing him to do anything. A pang of annoyance accompanied relief. Then she pushed it further, already noticing that the next level was available.
A spike of pain pierced her head, but it faded quickly enough.
'Will?' Taylor asked in his mind, and she saw. She SAW so much. It was the Empire. They were coming after Will. Conclusions fell into place at a rapid pace, far quicker than she could even think.
"You have a power. You've had it for eight months or longer without outing yourself.' Flashes of a faded teenager with bugs swarming flicked by. 'Master/thinker. How you've been controlling Mack. The lie detector with Annette. You've been using it on both of us. Kelly, too? We're going to have words later. But you need to run. Be safe. They want me, not you.' Will shoved her into the entrance of the alley and turned to face outward.
'No! I want to help!' Taylor poured her conviction into the thought, showing how much she wished to do something-anything-to help Will fight the bad guys.
She knew how exasperated and annoyed Will was at her defiance. All the repercussions that could come should she stay in all their horrifying detail. The horrors he had seen. It broke her heart, and she understood why he was always somewhat angry. He wasn't angry at her or anyone, but at the world for allowing such things to take place. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't save a drop in the ocean. It crushed her but redoubled her desire to support him. Someone had to!
Then Taylor pulled on Will through the bond, and strength filled her body. It overfilled her, spilling down the bond to Mack. 'You're not normal!'
'Interesting. I'll allow you to stay if you follow my orders.'
'Yes, sir!' And in an instant, Taylor felt her struggling power relax, dropping herself down the totem pole. Instead of sending out orders and suggestions, she was now taking them from Will. Her own power was puppeteering her body, but not. She could fight it if she wanted, and it gave her some measure of relief, but the scary part was that she could not think of any reason why she would fight Will's orders. The feeling of keeping those she cared about close and never letting go was enough for her.
She couldn't lose anyone else ever again.
Her hand went to Mack's waiting neck, and she unclipped his collar, winding the cord around her hand for some reason. Not just that, but she picked up a chunk of tarmac and slipped it into Will's waiting hand behind his back.
Through Will's eyes, she watched eight men covered in tattoos surround the entrance of the alley. Four rifles, four pistols, and one cape. A man with pure white skin parted the encirclement.
Alabaster. Will knew the cape-an Empire one, as he expected. A minor brute that refreshed every 4.3 seconds. Immune to pain. That knowledge came with relief, as it was a beatable opponent, unlike Hookwolf.
"Well, am I not the lucky guy? I get the honor of putting down the man who's been such a thorn in the Empire's side. How many of us have you killed?" Alabaster closed with Will, not a man drawing his weapons. None of them were taking Will seriously in his plain clothes without a weapon.
"Not enough," Will said, his mind flickering to the other groups he spotted further down the boardwalk. This was only the first, and why he waited for them here rather than being surrounded by another cape.
Alabaster hopped to the left, crossing four feet, giving him an angle where Taylor met his pure white eyes before shifting to hide behind Will's bulk. "Oh, who is that? No children and no friends with children… Naughty, naughty. Leave it to the pigs to like young girls."
Absolute, indescribable rage flared into existence at the insinuation. So great, Will almost charged if not for Taylor's calmer mind. She was freaking out and scared for her life, but she knew without a doubt that Will would rather die than do anything to her.
"I'm not a fan myself, but some are, and they could always use a new toy."
Will knew what Alabaster was doing, and it was working. If they goaded him into attacking first, that camera that one guy was recording with would show the Empire defending themselves. Letting them spin it as ammunition against the PRT and justify his death.
Taylor understood.
This wasn't going to be a cape fight on TV. Where everyone came out the other side alive with the bad guys locked up.
This was to the ugly end. This was why Will wanted her to run.
… but she couldn't lose another person.
Will's hand flicked the chunk of tarmac. In perfect, nauseating detail, Taylor saw a man's head explode into a shower of brain-filled gore. She crouched low, keeping her eyes wide open and not focused on anything, seeing the reactionary movement for Will. Mack took his orders through her and charged the rightmost man with a rifle.
The guns came up.
Alabaster wasn't quick enough; he took a punch from Will through the sternum, and she felt bones snap and flesh tear through the bond.
The first gunshot left Taylor's and Mack's ears ringing, but Will used Alabaster to intercept the bullet. He twisted, catching the next two with the body while maintaining a restricted line of fire on Taylor, protecting her from stray shots. Pain exploded in her head, instinctively knowing Will got shot in the side. Mack tackled the man, clamping his massive jaw around the vulnerable neck. And she learned what a person tastes like.
Screaming disrupted the crowds, and a torrent of gunfire went off, but there was only so much Will could dodge, even with her help. Bullet after bullet punched into him-nothing vital right now, but it would kill him given time without treatment. So he adjusted.
Taylor barely had the reaction time to catch the flying golden pistol coming at her from Alabaster's waist, and she started moving before he even threw it. By the time she gripped the massive pistol in her stinging hand, Will had already gone on the offensive, wielding Alabaster's body as a makeshift weapon.
The sickening crunch of two people slapping together preceded a man rocketing away, sailing ten feet before bouncing off the sidewalk.
Taylor raised the pistol, a desert eagle, using skills taken from Will to aim at the man shifting to shoot Mack. It wasn't just his experience with shooting that flowed into her head; it was how to handle killing. The cold calculation put her, Mack, and Will above the man she was about to shoot.
This was going to hurt.
Bang!
A hole punched its way through between the man's shoulders, and he collapsed like someone had cut his strings. She couldn't hear anything but ringing. Will smacked another person with his man-shaped weapon, and Mack finished tearing out his victim's throat. The copper taste of blood filled her mouth.
The next moment passed in a hazy blur, not a minute into the fight. All eight attackers lay on the ground with the cape hanging from Will's outstretching arms. Mack grabbed the recording cell phone in his bloody mouth, jumping over to Taylor to take it from him.
'I'm sorry, Taylor.' Will said in her mind. The regret of having her experience this went beyond words. He was also apologizing for what he was about to commit. What she was about to experience in cold blood.
Will drove his thumbs through Alabaster's wide-open and repaired eyes and into his skull. Inhuman strength flexed, and bones cracked. He ripped the cape's head in half, snatching the freed brain to mush between his fingers. Like gooey meat.
Still under Will's orders, she threw the pistol back at him, and he proceeded to put a bullet through each man's head, living or dead. Each shot rattled her to the core. Not that there was time to think.
Will strapped a rifle to his bleeding torso, rivers of blood running down him from the many bullet holes he suffered. He caught Mack, tucking the massive dog under one arm and snatching her with the other, taking off at a sprint through the alley she once was supposed to flee through.
They crossed the road on the other side, down two alleys. He stopped behind a dumpster. She still couldn't hear. 'Call Annette. Have her pick you up. Don't come out for anyone, PRT or police.' He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground and straightened out.
'Will! Don't go!' But he was already gone, running back the way they came. There were more after them. She knew that, and if he took the initiative, they wouldn't have time to find her, even if he was likely to die. Mack pressed against her, refusing to let her leave this safe spot even while he comforted her.
Off in the distance, Taylor felt Mom's emotions turn into grim resoluteness. Of violence.
It wasn't long before she watched Will aim down the sights at more Empire grunts and pull the trigger. Blades erupted from one shirtless man.
'Please don't die.' She pleaded with him, then Will forced her to cut the connection.
Last edited: Mar 1, 2024
Snippet thread ( Link) Tons of stuff ranging from SFW to very NSFW
How To (Barely) Survive in a Zombie Apocalypse (Worm AU/OC-isekai) - Heavy AU with Worm level grimness. The MC had a Plant control powers and Falna, both able to grant to others. 57k updates M-F.
Not actively updating stories
There are no Heroes in a Game of Life - Worm AU ( Link) It's NSFW for both sexual and violence related subjects. 97k so far and not updating.
BattleForge ( Link) Celestial Forge/Worm/Battletech. Its gets much better after the first few chapters. 170k words. Concluded.