Wolf Spider (Worm) (Complete)
- Thread starter The Laurent
- Start date
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Amy is trying her hardest, but she's still got some struggles. Everyone does, really, and you're never "cured" or "over it" with mental illness and especially depression, and I kinda read some of Amy's headspace as that.
There were Amy focused ideas floated for the ten years later thing, too! I hope we're able to tell those, because they're novel and sometimes shippy despite the flaws.
If it helps, the next epilogue segment is all Taylor / Rachel. And I hope the spin on Lily and Sabah was interesting, anyway?
I for one, really liked the Lily + Sabah epilogue bits. Though I almost thought their romance would burn out without having made that crucial connection because Sabah is too stubborn to talk about her shit.
- Location
- France
Hey, they managed it in canon where the only person who could possibly give them any relationship advixe was an asexual villain neither of them trusted but who possessed supernatural insight into human nature! This time they have Taylor, unusual lesbian relationship expert, to help them! That's even better right?I for one, really liked the Lily + Sabah epilogue bits. Though I almost thought their romance would burn out without having made that crucial connection because Sabah is too stubborn to talk about her shit.
- Location
- kansas
O, wow I like this story so much. The happy parts and sad,the hard ones I had to put down and read a bit at a time.
Maybe after i give this a second read my thoughts will have gelled better
Maybe after i give this a second read my thoughts will have gelled better
it was really very good enjoyed it a lot even greg gets to look good for greg.
Psh, Taylor just gave Bitch's standard relationship advice. "Just tell her how you feel." (Paraphrasing a bit here
)
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Psh, Taylor just gave Bitch's standard relationship advice. "Just tell her how you feel." (Paraphrasing a bit here
I mean, her experience with, like, being accepting* helped? Since Sabah was a little unusual.
*Merchants, her enemies, and anyone she doesn't like in any way need not apply.
Being Dom isn't all that unusual though?
- Location
- France
There's a place called the "real world" outside of internet porn, and it is rather unusual there
Sure it isn't unique by any means, but like any other fetish you probably won't exactly date a dozen of them in your lifetime.
And "Dom" isn't a synonym for "bossy" or 'a little overbearing" either.
- Location
- USA
I just want to say that was never my intent, way back two months and just as many posts ago by me. I've loved it all, I'm just incredibly emotional and your writing was getting me there with the trouble so obviously building between Taylor and Rachel. I had to wait for the happy ending before I could come back, or I'd be crying every chapter...
I wait with much anticipation for their chapter.
Given the whole fifty shades thing the idea of it is at least fairly mainstream these days.There's a place called the "real world" outside of internet porn, and it is rather unusual there
Sure it isn't unique by any means, but like any other fetish you probably won't exactly date a dozen of them in your lifetime.
And "Dom" isn't a synonym for "bossy" or 'a little overbearing" either.
It's possible that I'm overestimating a bit because I personally know several people who are into BDSM. OTOH I'm not into it and I met these people (who don't know each other) in every day real life so, they can't be that thin on the ground.
Pack, C
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Pack--C
7--Rachel
July 29th
"Tell me, what can you remember of that particular attack?" the man asked. He wasn't smiling, which was good. Had Taylor told him? Rachel didn't want to think through it. There were things she could do with her brain that were more important. Really, this was just annoying. But Taylor was right: Taylor knew what she was talking about.
Of course Rachel trusted her. "I was hungry. One of the dogs had gotten sick," she said, aware that her sentences came off gruff.
The man was a blocky, tall sort of man, with a wart on his chin. He smelled of cologne and his eyes were hard and brown, like nuts. If he were a dog, he'd be a Pit-Bull. "And?"
Taylor was right nearby, standing with an intent look on her face. She was very pretty, then. Rachel thought makeup was a bunch of shit. But there was something about those lips, the soft red. Taylor was just pretending: dressing up respectable, not even in her costume. But it was a kind of pretend that Rachel found was sort of fun.
It was like video games. The stories were dumb, but it was a little amusing, and she was alright at them.
It was something new that Taylor had shown her. Rachel didn't usually like new things, but when they were things Taylor had brought, it was okay.
"And so I broke into the store. I began gathering up cash from the register. I grabbed some food bars. Fucking things last forever." Rachel snorted. "Then…"
"Then? Did you at any point attack him before he fired? I'll need you to be willing to swear this in court," the man said. Rachel had heard a name, but it didn't matter. He didn't matter. So she'd forgotten it.
"Nah. I didn't attack him. Little growling, but he shot at me. Fucker coulda killed me. I didn't kill him back," Rachel said. She felt sorry for most of the things she did. Guilt wasn't something she was good at, unlike video games, but that didn't mean she didn't feel it.
If she could survive without doing shit like that, she'd prefer she didn't. Except, that one asshole? She didn't feel sorry for him at all.
"Ah, very well. So next, I have to ask you a few more questions, about…"
*******
It took an hour for that to finish, and by the end Rachel was hungry and grumpy. Which meant that Taylor went and made her some food, while she sat around and played video games and calmed down, watching the dogs.
Watching dogs was very calming, and her shoulders slumped slightly, the tension falling from them.
Her first memory was of standing in front of a door, looking up at it. Almost scratching at it, like a dog that wanted to be let in.
She couldn't even remember what door it was. Just that it was a door.
It was before she'd been taken away the first time. She thought? She wasn't sure. The past was not a place she wanted to live. Not when there was Taylor.
Taylor sashayed into the room, and the dogs barked for her, eager and happy. It was easy to tell one sort of bark from another: it was far easier than reading faces. But she had practice with Taylor. Taylor was happy, her hips swaying a little, as if she were showing off her clothes, her body.
She smelled faintly of the slightest bit of perfume, and that Rachel didn't like as she sat down. "You did really well, Rachel."
"Thanks," Rachel said, looking at one of the volunteers… Kyle? She thought it was Kyle. But he was going in to play with the dogs.
"Another one of your adoring fans," Taylor said, sticking out her tongue and leaning in. Her lips looked so soft, and the lipstick…
Rachel's thoughts were stuck on it, on the sensations, even though she was hungry. "I guess," Rachel said.
She didn't understand why it was that people looked up to her, just that by now it was impossible not to think that they must have their reasons. It confused her. She was… she knew how people looked at her. They could bare their teeth at each other and it wasn't bad, they could read each other, they…
She grit her teeth and dismissed the doubts.
"C'mon, eat up. It's roast beef," Taylor said.
"We have internet," Rachel said, and to her it made sense that this was all connected.
"Yes. And roast beef sandwiches and chips. And some carrots. I know you might not like them, but I figured we need at least a little greenery. Balanced diet, you know?" Taylor's voice was breathy, and a little excited. But most of all, it was right in Rachel's ear. That made it even better, because…
Well duh.
"You wanna watch anything together?" Rachel asked.
"Well, I definitely could. We don't have a laptop, though. And I know they're a valuable--"
Rachel snorted. "Ask. They'll give us one."
People looked up to Rachel: people looked up to Taylor. One of those made sense, the other was a little odd. Everyone should look up to Taylor.
"Well… I suppose they would," Taylor said. "So maybe we could see what we can find online sometime. Though the internet's going to be pretty shaky."
More than pretty shaky. But Rachel didn't really care. It was another thing she could do. She even thought it might be fun. Though… she wasn't good at reading faces. She'd have to ask for Taylor to explain things to her.
She'd look like a moron, and in front of anyone else, that'd be enough that it'd make her set her shoulders, hunch up, and try to scare them into backing up. She wasn't smart: in fact, she knew she was stupid. She knew people made fun of her, and she couldn't help it. But Taylor never would.
Taylor was hers. And she was Taylor's. It was really that simple to her, she didn't need complex feelings, though she knew that Taylor was writing and reading a lot more, and that usually involved complex… stuff.
Rachel wasn't much of one for reading. She was glad she was figuring it all out cause it could be helpful, and some of the things were pretty alright, but… she wasn't Taylor.
Before Taylor, she would have resented everything she now admired. Rachel found things cute that she'd never have found cute before, she… she didn't know what to do about the way she'd felt.
She hadn't then, at least.
"Sure," Rachel said, picking up her sandwich and starting to eat.
Taylor ate as well, and they spent the time in silence. But it was comfortable silence. Rachel wasn't against silence, and after they ate, she kissed Taylor.
Taylor tasted a little like chips, but her lipstick left smudges on Rachel's face that she didn't want to wipe off. She liked the marks. She liked the proof. Rachel had never felt for another human being the way she did for Taylor.
The oddest part was… Taylor felt like the start of something, rather than the end? She felt as if she were giving Rachel a reason to try other people. Cassie, the various shelter workers, Greg, Stefanie… even Charlotte wasn't horrible. She just needed to be watched. Very closely.
Some of them could have been laughing at her, but she knew that if they did, Taylor would see that they were, and she'd sting them with her bugs. It was that simple: Taylor was good at this shit, and she wasn't weak either, the way apparently at least one asshole online said.
Emma, if Taylor was to be believed. Taylor sometimes muttered things like, "I almost want to go back to school just to fuck her up."
But she didn't mean it. She even said fuck as if it were a foreign word. Rachel could understand that. Even if it wasn't how she dealt with problems.
Emma didn't matter.
*******
At first, it was an annoyance. Who was this person and why was she tagging along? Yet she had bugs.
Rachel had always thought bugs were alright. A little annoying when they buzzed around her head, but she hadn't even thought about how dangerous they'd be until Taylor followed along. She hadn't known the name then, but she'd looked at the other girl and wondered.
A part of her was curious. A part of her she wouldn't acknowledge was lonely. She only realized it, of course, later. She only realized it in context, and so she grit her teeth and saved the dogs. Coil'd come through once, at least. That was something.
Then she'd come again. Rachel could remember the moment, could picture it just as much as her reading to Rachel, could picture it so vividly that she knew it'd be a little ridiculous if she told the story.
Because of course, Taylor had worried about her wanting Taylor for just her body. She'd worried about it a lot.
But Taylor had shown up to help Rachel in running shorts.
Running shorts.
Rachel had spent half her time when she was supposed to be caring for the dogs keeping one eye on the long, lean legs. They were toned, but not bulky, thin and built to get her places. Rachel pictured those legs wrapped around her, she imagined--with rather more vivid imagery than she could imagine anything else--her naked body and Taylor's twined together.
Taylor was tall, and her features striking, if sorta normal. The glasses made her look smart, but not distant. They made her seem as if she was right there, always looking at Rachel. But Rachel couldn't be sure, not until later.
And there was the swell of her chest, subtle in a T-shirt, but still there. There were her hands, her fingers. There was a lot to look at, a lot to take in.
Rachel knew what it was like to lust after someone who liked only guys: she always wanted to wait for a sign, for a moment where she could know for sure that Taylor would at least have a chance to say yes. And this drive only increased later. Tension came into the picture, because she liked Taylor even without her body.
But that first day?
She watched Taylor, made her into an object of lust whose… it didn't matter whether or not she was friendly. That changed, but the view didn't.
Especially those few times when Taylor had to bend down to pick something up, the shorts riding up a little bit.
Rachel was not someone who could be shamed, and she liked Taylor's butt. She liked all of Taylor, for that matter. She liked her laugh, her eyes, her words, her quick wit, her tits, her arms, her lips, the way she seemed to care about people, the strength and determination that she carried, her odd habits, her thighs, her hands, her inventiveness, her driven nature, her cunt, her fingers, her…
It was a litany that she wouldn't have thought possible then.
It was an odd feeling, really. It was almost like she was sick. But she knew it wasn't that at all.
She wasn't smart, but she wasn't that dumb.
She knew that was love.
*******
July 30th
They patrolled farther out now. Sometimes for no other reason than to explore. Taylor could see so far with those bugs of hers, and Rachel liked the exercise. She almost wanted to run with her. She knew that Taylor appreciated that about her, so she did want to exercise more.
She'd liked it when she realized that Taylor was staring at her.
So they were ambling along, when Taylor said, "Huh, that's interesting."
"What?" Rachel asked. Their dogs were at their side. So really, it was just taking the dogs for a walk.
"I'd noticed it before, but there's a park over there." Taylor pointed down a street that had been ruined a month ago when they'd last been this far out. "And someone's started to care for it. Replace the park bench that a Merchant… or someone, I guess, stole."
In Rachel's experience, blaming everything petty and stupid on Merchants was usually right. "Huh. Wanna go there?"
"What about tomorrow? With everyone. There's no real threats around, and…" Taylor smiled a little. "I had an idea. Or a thought. I guess, something to remember?" Taylor had that look, and Rachel knew she was also thinking about the first. Which she'd decided was close enough to her birthday. Rachel didn't do birthdays. But.
"Oh?"
"There's a camera. We should take a picture. I bet it'd look nice," Taylor said, tilting her head thoughtfully.
"Yeah. Let's do it," Rachel said, firmly.
Sometimes Taylor needed a little encouragement. Her voice sounded like she clearly wanted to do it. And that was enough for Rachel.
The sun was shining. The dogs were happy. So was she.
8--Taylor
July 31st, 2011
I felt like something had changed. I knew it wasn't Amp, and that left only a few things it could be. A few things it had to be. Me, the world, and Rachel. The feeling was like when you woke up on a Saturday morning and knew from the first moment that it was Saturday: no panic, no worry about another day of school, and more bullying to come.
It was freedom, that's what I thought at first, and the more I considered it, the more I couldn't help but think I was completely right.
Things weren't perfect, but I didn't need them to be. I just needed to be out of the cages, out of the lies and doubt. I was getting help, sure, and I knew that alone I wasn't ever going to break through, but…
I wasn't quite secure enough, even almost a month later, to want to go to an apartment. But I knew the day would come. In the meantime, it felt as much like a camping trip as a refugee camp. The image of us in our own apartment, a real apartment, with amenities, with a working bathroom, with baths, with vases…
It tempted me. We'd been living together forever, I knew that Rachel and I wouldn't have too many problems on that front. I cherished every sign of our closeness, because something had broken, the shackles of doubt were torn apart on the floor.
I could picture a future.
Of course in some ways it looked like the past, or the present. Waking up together, getting dressed, doing work, kissing, reading, fucking… there was a pattern to our lives already. But it felt as if it were mutating, as if it was growing in strength.
Certainly, I was. My range wasn't as large now as it had been right before the final fight with the Butcher, but that was because I was happy and free, and even with all of that, it seemed to be increasing.
I filled more and more notebooks with details. I could tell people apart by senses that I hadn't fully possessed before, and the world seemed to open up into a riot of colors and shades, smells and vibrations of the voice.
It wasn't magic: I couldn't tell when someone was lying. But I could tell when their heart was racing, I could read a lot of emotions with my bugs. I could smell sweat, so at the very least… nervousness was no longer beyond me to read.
And of course, with free time, I was gathering bugs from all over, and starting to breed them, to figure out what I wanted to do with it. For instance, if there weren't gangs pressing in on every side, I could create some sort of bug box for bugs blocks and blocks out, and have at least some reason to assume they wouldn't just be smashed and destroyed.
From the details I saw with my bugs, I began to build up something I hadn't expected: ideas. I could imagine poems and short-stories based on the struggles and arguments, the little details. I could imagine it, and maybe I could write it. I started writing, I started unbending.
Even talking to Dad didn't feel so stressful, as if we'd both reached a point of real acceptance. This wasn't temporary. This was going to last.
I'd written one short story and a half-dozen poems within the month, and it was so odd, because I'd been more of a reader than a writer. I didn't want to share them, this wasn't a career I wanted to choose. It wasn't like that. I just wanted to express certain things. I wanted to try to capture who I was and what I was doing.
I kept the love-poems bottled in, though. I needed to figure how I felt. I was selfish, I really was. I didn't want to share Rachel with the world: not the Rachel I knew.
I didn't want to write about the mornings entwined in each other's arms, the way she got up. I didn't want to write about the strong muscles of her legs, the way she'd bend and stretch around, flexing a little. The way that once I'd seen her eyes and I realized that at least a little of this was a show for me.
There's a feeling of accomplishment when someone lusts after you so much that they go out of their way to be lusted after. It was the feeling of someone dressing up to impress, of someone saying just the right words. It was that taste in your mouth where you don't know where the sweetness came from, only that it was real and surprising. Sometimes things happened and you didn't understand what you'd done to deserve it.
You'd call it grace if you were religious.
I'd been with her for months, now. It was so bizarre, in a way, because I still marveled at her body, at those muscles, at her hair, especially when I ran my fingers through it. She was tanned at places, but not with intent, and I loved rubbing those areas, just thinking about her. Her mouth was hard, and strong, but I'd felt her melt beneath me before, I'd felt it soften with happiness, if not with smiles.
Her hands were rough, but she wasn't clumsy, and if they were bigger than mine, our hands still seemed to fit together just fine. And she was there. I'd gone through stages, through waves of thought and opinion on her and how physical our relationship was.
But now moments crept in, without even being forced, that seemed to break my heart.
Edna was my puppy, Rachel's gift. She was adorably small, and rather… honestly, adventurous was the word for it. I was playing with her as I was thinking.
She was small enough that everything seemed new to her. She rolled over as I rubbed at her belly, and thought about the difference.
I'd told a lot to Rachel now that I hadn't before. Things I hadn't really trusted her in some deep place with. Because the worst part about trusting someone was that if they turned against you, they knew all your secrets.
But that no longer really seemed possible.
There were things that scared me, and things that didn't.
I could hear what all the gossip was, I knew what it was like to be attacked, I wasn't going to give a shit anymore. I was getting a GED, moving on, and never seeing Emma again. And when I pictured all of this, when I pictured the life I could live, Rachel was there in every image, she was the one who haunted not just my dreams--and that, truly, was easy for someone as alluring as Rachel, and I'd had crushes before--but my waking hours, but the moments when I was doing nothing but breathing.
That's what startled me. That it didn't feel like a heightened realm, and it didn't need to. I'd been unable to believe that it wouldn't feel special: the way I'd not known for sure we were dating until I confirmed it.
It was just there. I needed to quit playing with the puppy, I thought to myself. I had to go see Rachel. I needed to plan her birthday. Maybe she'd show off some lifting just for fun. Maybe I could find a show that she'd like. Maybe something that didn't focus too much on human emotions? I wasn't sure what would fit that.
She was right that a laptop was easy to get, and…
I blinked, and glanced in the corner as Edna started barking.
Ah, it was Imp. Also known as Aisha.
"Yo," she said. She was dressed in ragged jeans. She had the mask on, but it hid very little, compared to her clothes. "You know, your clothes are a little boring. I bet that you'd love it if Rachel wore more short-sleeves, wouldn't you?"
I blushed slightly--I blushed easily, really. It was true, but I didn't care that much. Clothes didn't matter: Rachel was right, Emma was wrong. That was a fact that should surprise nobody.
"Clothes aren't that important," I said.
"Well, yeah. With the way you're going at it, from what I can tell? Like, I've noticed," Aisha said. "That when you are, the bugs all cling to the walls and stuff. It's weird." Aisha shook her head. "It's a good thing you can't make babies."
I snorted, and said, "So, word from Tattletale?"
We had a deal. A sort of truce, a ceasefire that I knew wouldn't last forever. But I could at least wait for things to settle down. Of course, the Undersiders were now the big threat, but with Imp able to slip into our camp, and with our two vials under threat… it was best to try to find a way to hold off any full-scale war.
They were keeping away from the dock, and they were focusing more on protection and smuggling, rather than drug dealing. I hadn't exactly gone around peeing on street corners, but it was obvious to Lisa that I had areas I cared about. Where my old home was, where my new home was, the docks in general.
Then there were areas where I didn't mind if someone sold bootleg DVDs or… I should have, but there was only so far my compassion stretched. It was a limit of mine, and despite all of that I'd need to push them back.
They were villains, after all, and I doubted that Lisa could ever leave well enough alone for too long. But she'd paid for a lawyer, she was covering the debt she owed, and for the moment I'd just trust her.
"Yeah," Aisha said. "She says that Skidmark's somehow alive, and he has his own little gang. It's very small. But reports are, he has about a dozen or two dozen patches left, and that he's trying to trade them to… anyone."
"Such as the Undersiders?" I asked, frowning.
"Well, us too. But he's also apparently talking to someone else, and we don't know who it is."
"That's… interesting," I said, uncertainty.
"Also, there's this new gang in town. The Travelers. She's, uh, not sure what's up with them. But they've holed up at the edge of the city."
"What else? There's the Neo-Merchants, with how many capes?"
"Squealer's gone. So it's just two. Skidmark and this new guy. Booger."
I laughed."Of course. What else?"
"There's… well. Two other small gangs we think have one parahuman ringer? A Japanese and Chinese Gang."
"I've seen them. They tried to move in a little on up, and… it didn't work."
That was the word for them being forced to flee in terror from a swarm of hornets, right? I remembered it fondly. It had been the only fight I'd been in in the last month, besides warding off a few gang members. The world had changed a little from the constant tension I'd been facing before.
So there it was. My enemies right now.
Travelers. Neo-Merchants with two members. And two other pathetic and pitiful gangs. At least, they were pathetic now. I wasn't going to attack the Travelers either. That'd be doing the Undersiders work for them.
"Oh, huh. Good to know," Aisha said. "One of them has a power that I thought would threaten you."
"What power?" I asked.
"Flames. But I guess they didn't bring him out? Gah, how many dumb things are you gonna be telling me Lisa." Aisha shook her head.
"Earbud?" I asked.
"Yeah. It's annoying."
"No, they didn't bring him out. And I assume they're fighting a lot among each other," I said. Lung's bizarre nightmare-fantasy of a Pan-Asian gang was long dead, I thought. I'd go after the Merchants when I had time. I didn't fear Skidmark, and I didn't fear groups that were still smaller combined than the… Pack. I didn't love the name, but what else was I going to use?
"Yep. It's funny," Aisha said. "So, yeah, at the moment we're just checking in and stuff."
"As long as we all keep to our promises, then we should be good." I nodded at her. I was still playing with Edna even as I spoke. "But tell her I'm going to be watching her. Rather literally."
My bugs could see a long way. And I was already trying to think of ways around Aisha. She had to have weaknesses. Obviously, any trap or trick that didn't have a brain to fool was a good start. But were there other ways around her? I was getting better at noticing… not when she was there, but that she existed. That Lisa had a cape that people couldn't remember, and that this cape was a… she. It wasn't enough to save me in case of a fight, though.
But perhaps we could make some sort of remote video system?
It didn't' matter for the moment.
"TT hopes things are going well with the lawsuit," Aisha said.
"They are." I bared in teeth at the world for a moment. Aisha had come with news that Emma's father was the lawyer of most of the people suing us. It was a petty bit of trickery, but not that unexpected.
"Well… that's good. You know, you're really sorta terrifying when you grin like that. What next? Are you gonna start working out?"
I shook my head.
"God, she's shaking her head now. Yes, like a… yes." Aisha bared her teeth at me, almost playfully. Smiled, smiled rather. But I was just a little bit on edge now, just because… she was a villain, after all. So it was easy to interpret it the wrong way. Or maybe the right way, considering the lopsided, teasing nature of the smile.
"What is it?"
"Well, nothing," Aisha said.
Yeah, I knew that some of the mannerisms were Rachel's. But that happened. It wasn't a big deal, and certainly not something worth mocking. But I didn't jump down her throat. "I know what you're thinking. It doesn't matter, and I don't care. Now, is there anything else you wanna run by me?"
"No," Imp said, with a formal nod.
She disappeared.
I shook my head, still sorta-kinda remembering that she existed.
It was annoying when she did it, but I had a puppy to pet, and I had more important things to worry about.
******
We went in domino masks and nothing else, as a group. All of us. We weren't giving any hints of this little plan, and Artificer had apparently built some sort of clumsy looking turret that he had set up, and he'd know when it was set off. If it came down to it, we'd have plenty of warning.
And people knew what would happen if we caught them.
We walked through still recovering neighborhoods. My new home wasn't bad, just a little rundown.
And it wasn't a bad neighborhood, especially now that I was watching over it. It was somewhere I could imagine living long-term, besides the fact that it probably would be cheap.
I carried a camera and a tripod, and looked around at the rest of the group. Lily was coming along too, and I wondered at how she'd managed to figure out… but of course I didn't need to wonder.
Cassie was coming too, talking excitedly with Stefanie. And of course, Lily and Sabah were practically in each other's arms… and whatever they were doing, it seemed to be working?
So I wasn't going to judge.
These people were as much family in one sense as my Dad were. They were my team. They weren't bad family either, if you liked at it that way. We worked hard, we'd fought and killed the Butcher together, and we had each other's backs.
It was a bit of a walk, but soon enough, there was the slightly soggy, broad park. It was closed in by open gates, and there was nobody else there, not this time in the morning.
But there were benches, there were places to sit down. I had an idea of what I wanted to do, and I smiled and smoothed down my skirt.
It was time to take a photo. Something to remember us by, just in case: the world could be dangerous, after all.
Rachel reached her hand out, and I grabbed it, imagining sitting in her lap, imagining posing. Imagining all sorts of things.
I was still thinking about Rachel when the picture was taken. I was still thinking about her when I looked at the assembled group, relaxing after the photograph.
******
The sun shone in the sky, beating down on the team, the breeze came in from the bay, though it was far from the ocean. The group of teenagers didn't look like much, from above.
Certainly, it didn't seem as if they were the heroes that Brockton Bay deserved. Some of them were rough, people who looked nothing like what was expected. Others weren't. Still others seemed shy, seen from above, edging away from each other, smiling awkwardly.
The photo didn't show something pristine, that could be put on the cover of a magazine. They weren't, any photojournalist would attest, the next New Wave. They didn't look like the heroes that the people demanded, nor the ones that could save the day with a smile. Yet they were smiling.
There would be words, if someone knew a Ward was among a bunch of vigilantes, kissing one of them right on the mouth, passionately.
From above, once couldn't hear the words that one of them, blocky and muscular, whispered to another, tall and brown-haired. They could hear the laughter, and nothing else.
From above, the gossip wasn't there, the teasing, the words that one of the boys was typing, even though the park didn't have reception.
The words didn't matter.
*******
A/N: Thanks to @NemoMarx, and thanks to all who have read. It has been a journey.
7--Rachel
July 29th
"Tell me, what can you remember of that particular attack?" the man asked. He wasn't smiling, which was good. Had Taylor told him? Rachel didn't want to think through it. There were things she could do with her brain that were more important. Really, this was just annoying. But Taylor was right: Taylor knew what she was talking about.
Of course Rachel trusted her. "I was hungry. One of the dogs had gotten sick," she said, aware that her sentences came off gruff.
The man was a blocky, tall sort of man, with a wart on his chin. He smelled of cologne and his eyes were hard and brown, like nuts. If he were a dog, he'd be a Pit-Bull. "And?"
Taylor was right nearby, standing with an intent look on her face. She was very pretty, then. Rachel thought makeup was a bunch of shit. But there was something about those lips, the soft red. Taylor was just pretending: dressing up respectable, not even in her costume. But it was a kind of pretend that Rachel found was sort of fun.
It was like video games. The stories were dumb, but it was a little amusing, and she was alright at them.
It was something new that Taylor had shown her. Rachel didn't usually like new things, but when they were things Taylor had brought, it was okay.
"And so I broke into the store. I began gathering up cash from the register. I grabbed some food bars. Fucking things last forever." Rachel snorted. "Then…"
"Then? Did you at any point attack him before he fired? I'll need you to be willing to swear this in court," the man said. Rachel had heard a name, but it didn't matter. He didn't matter. So she'd forgotten it.
"Nah. I didn't attack him. Little growling, but he shot at me. Fucker coulda killed me. I didn't kill him back," Rachel said. She felt sorry for most of the things she did. Guilt wasn't something she was good at, unlike video games, but that didn't mean she didn't feel it.
If she could survive without doing shit like that, she'd prefer she didn't. Except, that one asshole? She didn't feel sorry for him at all.
"Ah, very well. So next, I have to ask you a few more questions, about…"
*******
It took an hour for that to finish, and by the end Rachel was hungry and grumpy. Which meant that Taylor went and made her some food, while she sat around and played video games and calmed down, watching the dogs.
Watching dogs was very calming, and her shoulders slumped slightly, the tension falling from them.
Her first memory was of standing in front of a door, looking up at it. Almost scratching at it, like a dog that wanted to be let in.
She couldn't even remember what door it was. Just that it was a door.
It was before she'd been taken away the first time. She thought? She wasn't sure. The past was not a place she wanted to live. Not when there was Taylor.
Taylor sashayed into the room, and the dogs barked for her, eager and happy. It was easy to tell one sort of bark from another: it was far easier than reading faces. But she had practice with Taylor. Taylor was happy, her hips swaying a little, as if she were showing off her clothes, her body.
She smelled faintly of the slightest bit of perfume, and that Rachel didn't like as she sat down. "You did really well, Rachel."
"Thanks," Rachel said, looking at one of the volunteers… Kyle? She thought it was Kyle. But he was going in to play with the dogs.
"Another one of your adoring fans," Taylor said, sticking out her tongue and leaning in. Her lips looked so soft, and the lipstick…
Rachel's thoughts were stuck on it, on the sensations, even though she was hungry. "I guess," Rachel said.
She didn't understand why it was that people looked up to her, just that by now it was impossible not to think that they must have their reasons. It confused her. She was… she knew how people looked at her. They could bare their teeth at each other and it wasn't bad, they could read each other, they…
She grit her teeth and dismissed the doubts.
"C'mon, eat up. It's roast beef," Taylor said.
"We have internet," Rachel said, and to her it made sense that this was all connected.
"Yes. And roast beef sandwiches and chips. And some carrots. I know you might not like them, but I figured we need at least a little greenery. Balanced diet, you know?" Taylor's voice was breathy, and a little excited. But most of all, it was right in Rachel's ear. That made it even better, because…
Well duh.
"You wanna watch anything together?" Rachel asked.
"Well, I definitely could. We don't have a laptop, though. And I know they're a valuable--"
Rachel snorted. "Ask. They'll give us one."
People looked up to Rachel: people looked up to Taylor. One of those made sense, the other was a little odd. Everyone should look up to Taylor.
"Well… I suppose they would," Taylor said. "So maybe we could see what we can find online sometime. Though the internet's going to be pretty shaky."
More than pretty shaky. But Rachel didn't really care. It was another thing she could do. She even thought it might be fun. Though… she wasn't good at reading faces. She'd have to ask for Taylor to explain things to her.
She'd look like a moron, and in front of anyone else, that'd be enough that it'd make her set her shoulders, hunch up, and try to scare them into backing up. She wasn't smart: in fact, she knew she was stupid. She knew people made fun of her, and she couldn't help it. But Taylor never would.
Taylor was hers. And she was Taylor's. It was really that simple to her, she didn't need complex feelings, though she knew that Taylor was writing and reading a lot more, and that usually involved complex… stuff.
Rachel wasn't much of one for reading. She was glad she was figuring it all out cause it could be helpful, and some of the things were pretty alright, but… she wasn't Taylor.
Before Taylor, she would have resented everything she now admired. Rachel found things cute that she'd never have found cute before, she… she didn't know what to do about the way she'd felt.
She hadn't then, at least.
"Sure," Rachel said, picking up her sandwich and starting to eat.
Taylor ate as well, and they spent the time in silence. But it was comfortable silence. Rachel wasn't against silence, and after they ate, she kissed Taylor.
Taylor tasted a little like chips, but her lipstick left smudges on Rachel's face that she didn't want to wipe off. She liked the marks. She liked the proof. Rachel had never felt for another human being the way she did for Taylor.
The oddest part was… Taylor felt like the start of something, rather than the end? She felt as if she were giving Rachel a reason to try other people. Cassie, the various shelter workers, Greg, Stefanie… even Charlotte wasn't horrible. She just needed to be watched. Very closely.
Some of them could have been laughing at her, but she knew that if they did, Taylor would see that they were, and she'd sting them with her bugs. It was that simple: Taylor was good at this shit, and she wasn't weak either, the way apparently at least one asshole online said.
Emma, if Taylor was to be believed. Taylor sometimes muttered things like, "I almost want to go back to school just to fuck her up."
But she didn't mean it. She even said fuck as if it were a foreign word. Rachel could understand that. Even if it wasn't how she dealt with problems.
Emma didn't matter.
*******
At first, it was an annoyance. Who was this person and why was she tagging along? Yet she had bugs.
Rachel had always thought bugs were alright. A little annoying when they buzzed around her head, but she hadn't even thought about how dangerous they'd be until Taylor followed along. She hadn't known the name then, but she'd looked at the other girl and wondered.
A part of her was curious. A part of her she wouldn't acknowledge was lonely. She only realized it, of course, later. She only realized it in context, and so she grit her teeth and saved the dogs. Coil'd come through once, at least. That was something.
Then she'd come again. Rachel could remember the moment, could picture it just as much as her reading to Rachel, could picture it so vividly that she knew it'd be a little ridiculous if she told the story.
Because of course, Taylor had worried about her wanting Taylor for just her body. She'd worried about it a lot.
But Taylor had shown up to help Rachel in running shorts.
Running shorts.
Rachel had spent half her time when she was supposed to be caring for the dogs keeping one eye on the long, lean legs. They were toned, but not bulky, thin and built to get her places. Rachel pictured those legs wrapped around her, she imagined--with rather more vivid imagery than she could imagine anything else--her naked body and Taylor's twined together.
Taylor was tall, and her features striking, if sorta normal. The glasses made her look smart, but not distant. They made her seem as if she was right there, always looking at Rachel. But Rachel couldn't be sure, not until later.
And there was the swell of her chest, subtle in a T-shirt, but still there. There were her hands, her fingers. There was a lot to look at, a lot to take in.
Rachel knew what it was like to lust after someone who liked only guys: she always wanted to wait for a sign, for a moment where she could know for sure that Taylor would at least have a chance to say yes. And this drive only increased later. Tension came into the picture, because she liked Taylor even without her body.
But that first day?
She watched Taylor, made her into an object of lust whose… it didn't matter whether or not she was friendly. That changed, but the view didn't.
Especially those few times when Taylor had to bend down to pick something up, the shorts riding up a little bit.
Rachel was not someone who could be shamed, and she liked Taylor's butt. She liked all of Taylor, for that matter. She liked her laugh, her eyes, her words, her quick wit, her tits, her arms, her lips, the way she seemed to care about people, the strength and determination that she carried, her odd habits, her thighs, her hands, her inventiveness, her driven nature, her cunt, her fingers, her…
It was a litany that she wouldn't have thought possible then.
It was an odd feeling, really. It was almost like she was sick. But she knew it wasn't that at all.
She wasn't smart, but she wasn't that dumb.
She knew that was love.
*******
July 30th
They patrolled farther out now. Sometimes for no other reason than to explore. Taylor could see so far with those bugs of hers, and Rachel liked the exercise. She almost wanted to run with her. She knew that Taylor appreciated that about her, so she did want to exercise more.
She'd liked it when she realized that Taylor was staring at her.
So they were ambling along, when Taylor said, "Huh, that's interesting."
"What?" Rachel asked. Their dogs were at their side. So really, it was just taking the dogs for a walk.
"I'd noticed it before, but there's a park over there." Taylor pointed down a street that had been ruined a month ago when they'd last been this far out. "And someone's started to care for it. Replace the park bench that a Merchant… or someone, I guess, stole."
In Rachel's experience, blaming everything petty and stupid on Merchants was usually right. "Huh. Wanna go there?"
"What about tomorrow? With everyone. There's no real threats around, and…" Taylor smiled a little. "I had an idea. Or a thought. I guess, something to remember?" Taylor had that look, and Rachel knew she was also thinking about the first. Which she'd decided was close enough to her birthday. Rachel didn't do birthdays. But.
"Oh?"
"There's a camera. We should take a picture. I bet it'd look nice," Taylor said, tilting her head thoughtfully.
"Yeah. Let's do it," Rachel said, firmly.
Sometimes Taylor needed a little encouragement. Her voice sounded like she clearly wanted to do it. And that was enough for Rachel.
The sun was shining. The dogs were happy. So was she.
8--Taylor
July 31st, 2011
I felt like something had changed. I knew it wasn't Amp, and that left only a few things it could be. A few things it had to be. Me, the world, and Rachel. The feeling was like when you woke up on a Saturday morning and knew from the first moment that it was Saturday: no panic, no worry about another day of school, and more bullying to come.
It was freedom, that's what I thought at first, and the more I considered it, the more I couldn't help but think I was completely right.
Things weren't perfect, but I didn't need them to be. I just needed to be out of the cages, out of the lies and doubt. I was getting help, sure, and I knew that alone I wasn't ever going to break through, but…
I wasn't quite secure enough, even almost a month later, to want to go to an apartment. But I knew the day would come. In the meantime, it felt as much like a camping trip as a refugee camp. The image of us in our own apartment, a real apartment, with amenities, with a working bathroom, with baths, with vases…
It tempted me. We'd been living together forever, I knew that Rachel and I wouldn't have too many problems on that front. I cherished every sign of our closeness, because something had broken, the shackles of doubt were torn apart on the floor.
I could picture a future.
Of course in some ways it looked like the past, or the present. Waking up together, getting dressed, doing work, kissing, reading, fucking… there was a pattern to our lives already. But it felt as if it were mutating, as if it was growing in strength.
Certainly, I was. My range wasn't as large now as it had been right before the final fight with the Butcher, but that was because I was happy and free, and even with all of that, it seemed to be increasing.
I filled more and more notebooks with details. I could tell people apart by senses that I hadn't fully possessed before, and the world seemed to open up into a riot of colors and shades, smells and vibrations of the voice.
It wasn't magic: I couldn't tell when someone was lying. But I could tell when their heart was racing, I could read a lot of emotions with my bugs. I could smell sweat, so at the very least… nervousness was no longer beyond me to read.
And of course, with free time, I was gathering bugs from all over, and starting to breed them, to figure out what I wanted to do with it. For instance, if there weren't gangs pressing in on every side, I could create some sort of bug box for bugs blocks and blocks out, and have at least some reason to assume they wouldn't just be smashed and destroyed.
From the details I saw with my bugs, I began to build up something I hadn't expected: ideas. I could imagine poems and short-stories based on the struggles and arguments, the little details. I could imagine it, and maybe I could write it. I started writing, I started unbending.
Even talking to Dad didn't feel so stressful, as if we'd both reached a point of real acceptance. This wasn't temporary. This was going to last.
I'd written one short story and a half-dozen poems within the month, and it was so odd, because I'd been more of a reader than a writer. I didn't want to share them, this wasn't a career I wanted to choose. It wasn't like that. I just wanted to express certain things. I wanted to try to capture who I was and what I was doing.
I kept the love-poems bottled in, though. I needed to figure how I felt. I was selfish, I really was. I didn't want to share Rachel with the world: not the Rachel I knew.
I didn't want to write about the mornings entwined in each other's arms, the way she got up. I didn't want to write about the strong muscles of her legs, the way she'd bend and stretch around, flexing a little. The way that once I'd seen her eyes and I realized that at least a little of this was a show for me.
There's a feeling of accomplishment when someone lusts after you so much that they go out of their way to be lusted after. It was the feeling of someone dressing up to impress, of someone saying just the right words. It was that taste in your mouth where you don't know where the sweetness came from, only that it was real and surprising. Sometimes things happened and you didn't understand what you'd done to deserve it.
You'd call it grace if you were religious.
I'd been with her for months, now. It was so bizarre, in a way, because I still marveled at her body, at those muscles, at her hair, especially when I ran my fingers through it. She was tanned at places, but not with intent, and I loved rubbing those areas, just thinking about her. Her mouth was hard, and strong, but I'd felt her melt beneath me before, I'd felt it soften with happiness, if not with smiles.
Her hands were rough, but she wasn't clumsy, and if they were bigger than mine, our hands still seemed to fit together just fine. And she was there. I'd gone through stages, through waves of thought and opinion on her and how physical our relationship was.
But now moments crept in, without even being forced, that seemed to break my heart.
Edna was my puppy, Rachel's gift. She was adorably small, and rather… honestly, adventurous was the word for it. I was playing with her as I was thinking.
She was small enough that everything seemed new to her. She rolled over as I rubbed at her belly, and thought about the difference.
I'd told a lot to Rachel now that I hadn't before. Things I hadn't really trusted her in some deep place with. Because the worst part about trusting someone was that if they turned against you, they knew all your secrets.
But that no longer really seemed possible.
There were things that scared me, and things that didn't.
I could hear what all the gossip was, I knew what it was like to be attacked, I wasn't going to give a shit anymore. I was getting a GED, moving on, and never seeing Emma again. And when I pictured all of this, when I pictured the life I could live, Rachel was there in every image, she was the one who haunted not just my dreams--and that, truly, was easy for someone as alluring as Rachel, and I'd had crushes before--but my waking hours, but the moments when I was doing nothing but breathing.
That's what startled me. That it didn't feel like a heightened realm, and it didn't need to. I'd been unable to believe that it wouldn't feel special: the way I'd not known for sure we were dating until I confirmed it.
It was just there. I needed to quit playing with the puppy, I thought to myself. I had to go see Rachel. I needed to plan her birthday. Maybe she'd show off some lifting just for fun. Maybe I could find a show that she'd like. Maybe something that didn't focus too much on human emotions? I wasn't sure what would fit that.
She was right that a laptop was easy to get, and…
I blinked, and glanced in the corner as Edna started barking.
Ah, it was Imp. Also known as Aisha.
"Yo," she said. She was dressed in ragged jeans. She had the mask on, but it hid very little, compared to her clothes. "You know, your clothes are a little boring. I bet that you'd love it if Rachel wore more short-sleeves, wouldn't you?"
I blushed slightly--I blushed easily, really. It was true, but I didn't care that much. Clothes didn't matter: Rachel was right, Emma was wrong. That was a fact that should surprise nobody.
"Clothes aren't that important," I said.
"Well, yeah. With the way you're going at it, from what I can tell? Like, I've noticed," Aisha said. "That when you are, the bugs all cling to the walls and stuff. It's weird." Aisha shook her head. "It's a good thing you can't make babies."
I snorted, and said, "So, word from Tattletale?"
We had a deal. A sort of truce, a ceasefire that I knew wouldn't last forever. But I could at least wait for things to settle down. Of course, the Undersiders were now the big threat, but with Imp able to slip into our camp, and with our two vials under threat… it was best to try to find a way to hold off any full-scale war.
They were keeping away from the dock, and they were focusing more on protection and smuggling, rather than drug dealing. I hadn't exactly gone around peeing on street corners, but it was obvious to Lisa that I had areas I cared about. Where my old home was, where my new home was, the docks in general.
Then there were areas where I didn't mind if someone sold bootleg DVDs or… I should have, but there was only so far my compassion stretched. It was a limit of mine, and despite all of that I'd need to push them back.
They were villains, after all, and I doubted that Lisa could ever leave well enough alone for too long. But she'd paid for a lawyer, she was covering the debt she owed, and for the moment I'd just trust her.
"Yeah," Aisha said. "She says that Skidmark's somehow alive, and he has his own little gang. It's very small. But reports are, he has about a dozen or two dozen patches left, and that he's trying to trade them to… anyone."
"Such as the Undersiders?" I asked, frowning.
"Well, us too. But he's also apparently talking to someone else, and we don't know who it is."
"That's… interesting," I said, uncertainty.
"Also, there's this new gang in town. The Travelers. She's, uh, not sure what's up with them. But they've holed up at the edge of the city."
"What else? There's the Neo-Merchants, with how many capes?"
"Squealer's gone. So it's just two. Skidmark and this new guy. Booger."
I laughed."Of course. What else?"
"There's… well. Two other small gangs we think have one parahuman ringer? A Japanese and Chinese Gang."
"I've seen them. They tried to move in a little on up, and… it didn't work."
That was the word for them being forced to flee in terror from a swarm of hornets, right? I remembered it fondly. It had been the only fight I'd been in in the last month, besides warding off a few gang members. The world had changed a little from the constant tension I'd been facing before.
So there it was. My enemies right now.
Travelers. Neo-Merchants with two members. And two other pathetic and pitiful gangs. At least, they were pathetic now. I wasn't going to attack the Travelers either. That'd be doing the Undersiders work for them.
"Oh, huh. Good to know," Aisha said. "One of them has a power that I thought would threaten you."
"What power?" I asked.
"Flames. But I guess they didn't bring him out? Gah, how many dumb things are you gonna be telling me Lisa." Aisha shook her head.
"Earbud?" I asked.
"Yeah. It's annoying."
"No, they didn't bring him out. And I assume they're fighting a lot among each other," I said. Lung's bizarre nightmare-fantasy of a Pan-Asian gang was long dead, I thought. I'd go after the Merchants when I had time. I didn't fear Skidmark, and I didn't fear groups that were still smaller combined than the… Pack. I didn't love the name, but what else was I going to use?
"Yep. It's funny," Aisha said. "So, yeah, at the moment we're just checking in and stuff."
"As long as we all keep to our promises, then we should be good." I nodded at her. I was still playing with Edna even as I spoke. "But tell her I'm going to be watching her. Rather literally."
My bugs could see a long way. And I was already trying to think of ways around Aisha. She had to have weaknesses. Obviously, any trap or trick that didn't have a brain to fool was a good start. But were there other ways around her? I was getting better at noticing… not when she was there, but that she existed. That Lisa had a cape that people couldn't remember, and that this cape was a… she. It wasn't enough to save me in case of a fight, though.
But perhaps we could make some sort of remote video system?
It didn't' matter for the moment.
"TT hopes things are going well with the lawsuit," Aisha said.
"They are." I bared in teeth at the world for a moment. Aisha had come with news that Emma's father was the lawyer of most of the people suing us. It was a petty bit of trickery, but not that unexpected.
"Well… that's good. You know, you're really sorta terrifying when you grin like that. What next? Are you gonna start working out?"
I shook my head.
"God, she's shaking her head now. Yes, like a… yes." Aisha bared her teeth at me, almost playfully. Smiled, smiled rather. But I was just a little bit on edge now, just because… she was a villain, after all. So it was easy to interpret it the wrong way. Or maybe the right way, considering the lopsided, teasing nature of the smile.
"What is it?"
"Well, nothing," Aisha said.
Yeah, I knew that some of the mannerisms were Rachel's. But that happened. It wasn't a big deal, and certainly not something worth mocking. But I didn't jump down her throat. "I know what you're thinking. It doesn't matter, and I don't care. Now, is there anything else you wanna run by me?"
"No," Imp said, with a formal nod.
She disappeared.
I shook my head, still sorta-kinda remembering that she existed.
It was annoying when she did it, but I had a puppy to pet, and I had more important things to worry about.
******
We went in domino masks and nothing else, as a group. All of us. We weren't giving any hints of this little plan, and Artificer had apparently built some sort of clumsy looking turret that he had set up, and he'd know when it was set off. If it came down to it, we'd have plenty of warning.
And people knew what would happen if we caught them.
We walked through still recovering neighborhoods. My new home wasn't bad, just a little rundown.
And it wasn't a bad neighborhood, especially now that I was watching over it. It was somewhere I could imagine living long-term, besides the fact that it probably would be cheap.
I carried a camera and a tripod, and looked around at the rest of the group. Lily was coming along too, and I wondered at how she'd managed to figure out… but of course I didn't need to wonder.
Cassie was coming too, talking excitedly with Stefanie. And of course, Lily and Sabah were practically in each other's arms… and whatever they were doing, it seemed to be working?
So I wasn't going to judge.
These people were as much family in one sense as my Dad were. They were my team. They weren't bad family either, if you liked at it that way. We worked hard, we'd fought and killed the Butcher together, and we had each other's backs.
It was a bit of a walk, but soon enough, there was the slightly soggy, broad park. It was closed in by open gates, and there was nobody else there, not this time in the morning.
But there were benches, there were places to sit down. I had an idea of what I wanted to do, and I smiled and smoothed down my skirt.
It was time to take a photo. Something to remember us by, just in case: the world could be dangerous, after all.
Rachel reached her hand out, and I grabbed it, imagining sitting in her lap, imagining posing. Imagining all sorts of things.
I was still thinking about Rachel when the picture was taken. I was still thinking about her when I looked at the assembled group, relaxing after the photograph.
******
The sun shone in the sky, beating down on the team, the breeze came in from the bay, though it was far from the ocean. The group of teenagers didn't look like much, from above.
Certainly, it didn't seem as if they were the heroes that Brockton Bay deserved. Some of them were rough, people who looked nothing like what was expected. Others weren't. Still others seemed shy, seen from above, edging away from each other, smiling awkwardly.
The photo didn't show something pristine, that could be put on the cover of a magazine. They weren't, any photojournalist would attest, the next New Wave. They didn't look like the heroes that the people demanded, nor the ones that could save the day with a smile. Yet they were smiling.
There would be words, if someone knew a Ward was among a bunch of vigilantes, kissing one of them right on the mouth, passionately.
From above, once couldn't hear the words that one of them, blocky and muscular, whispered to another, tall and brown-haired. They could hear the laughter, and nothing else.
From above, the gossip wasn't there, the teasing, the words that one of the boys was typing, even though the park didn't have reception.
The words didn't matter.
*******
A/N: Thanks to @NemoMarx, and thanks to all who have read. It has been a journey.
Dr. Mercurious
Strangest Person You Know
- Location
- New England
I love the Rachel POV, I really, really do. The Laurent, take a bow -- you've made something special here and although I haven't agreed with some of you choices (Behemoth and the casualty list) on the whole you've crafted something rare -- a ship-fic that doesn't make me want to rip my eyes out.
- Location
- France
[Awww...]
@The Laurent, you are fantastic and deserve a love story like the one you just wrote. Yes, including the hard times (you deserve those for writing them! They were great, but - my poor heart!), but also including the heartwarming and beautiful ending.
@The Laurent, you are fantastic and deserve a love story like the one you just wrote. Yes, including the hard times (you deserve those for writing them! They were great, but - my poor heart!), but also including the heartwarming and beautiful ending.
Last edited:
- Location
- Wörms, the half continent
That was a great wrapup. I want to hug everyone.
Lenimentus
Ignorant but learning.
When it comes to Worm, that is incredibly rare, at least for me.
- Location
- ⇙
Thank you for writing this. It's definetely the best Worm romance I've seen and just a great stroy overall.
From the epilogue I especially liked the Rachel POV with her thoughts on Taylor after they first met.
From the epilogue I especially liked the Rachel POV with her thoughts on Taylor after they first met.
- Location
- Chile
Where's my love button? the hugs one isn't enough.
One thousand kudos @The Laurent! I consider this story the best Worm romance fic.
Good luck with your future projects.
One thousand kudos @The Laurent! I consider this story the best Worm romance fic.
Good luck with your future projects.
- Location
- Germany
I can't say more than was already said. Very good conclusion for a fantastic story. Imo Wolf Spider is one of the most believable independent-Hero/Vigilante-Taylor stories. It is maybe the best Romances I have read. It has one of the best and most realistic Endbringer fights. The aftermath of the fight, the camp live, the struggle to rebuilt everything, excelent written. The PHO/web-interlude was one of the best in the fandom and from look and style the best. The fight, the war, against all the new dangers, especially the Butcher and their Teeth was painfull, but in a "good" kind. All in all amazing stuff. Well written, tense and with satisfiyng outcome.
But most importantly, the story has amazingly well-written characters. Aside from the initial changes for the fics premise, Taylor was very in-character, all characters were in-character. The Greg here is the best iteration of him I ever read (even if I must admit, that I never read on of the Greg-fics). The interactions between the characters and the evolution of their relationships was also great and believable. I also liked how you created from a simple name an extremly believable and likable character. Pelter is great. The other canon-backround-peronage you used was also good. Charlotte is great, with a strong and dangerous but good presented and used power. Cassie is adorable. And of cause Rachel. In-character, bad-ass, and amazing.
Thank you very much for this great and almost perfect story. One of the best Worm-fics I know.
But most importantly, the story has amazingly well-written characters. Aside from the initial changes for the fics premise, Taylor was very in-character, all characters were in-character. The Greg here is the best iteration of him I ever read (even if I must admit, that I never read on of the Greg-fics). The interactions between the characters and the evolution of their relationships was also great and believable. I also liked how you created from a simple name an extremly believable and likable character. Pelter is great. The other canon-backround-peronage you used was also good. Charlotte is great, with a strong and dangerous but good presented and used power. Cassie is adorable. And of cause Rachel. In-character, bad-ass, and amazing.
Thank you very much for this great and almost perfect story. One of the best Worm-fics I know.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It was an important section to have, especially in the context of how Rachel's love for Taylor is questioned by Taylor in Arc 6.