Second day of posting 5 chapters in a weak.
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[Carlie]
I find myself on my knees with my forehead touching the ground in a dark room as incense burning, smoke serpents dancing with the shadows. The small space suffocated me, as if the walls closed in with every breath. The air, heavy with expectation and fear, weighed on my shoulders.
A single candle flickered, illuminating the severe face of my mother in front of me, sitting on her throne. Her eyes, pools of disappointment, pierced the darkness, fixed on me.
"Mom, I..."
"Silence, HǔPò," she barked in Mandarin. "You disgrace of a daughter."
Her voice, a whip, cracked through the air. Each syllable, a stab. My throat tightened, my heart beating out of rhythm.
"You have dishonored me and our name, HǔPò."
Each word, a knife. My breath faltered, my chest tight. The room, already oppressive, became a coffin. The scent of incense, once comforting, now suffocated.
"I swear I fought with honor and all my strength," I spoke, trying to calm her. "He was... just different."
"Different?" She questioned in English, only to burst into laughter afterward.
Her laugh, a sharp and cruel sound, echoed off the walls, amplifying the humiliating oppression I felt.
"Different is just an excuse for weakness. You are a tigress, HǔPò, but shamefully you have never acted like one." Snarls my mother disgusted. "You act more like a plant eater."
Every muscle in my body tensed. The urge to scream, to fight back, grew inside me. But I knew my place. I knew the weight of the family name I carried.
"Yes, Mother."
My voice is practically a whisper, lost in the darkness. The candle flickered, shadows dancing on the face of the tigress matriarch. Her eyes, cold and calculating, never left mine.
"The only good thing you offered the family was your strength in the arena, " my mother said, her voice dripping with disdain and disgust. "But now that you have lost and humiliated us in front of so many spectators, there is only one path for you to redeem yourself."
"Tell me, Mother!" I exclaimed, lifting my head hopefully. "I will do what must be done to restore our family's honor," I promised, my voice firm, echoing in the darkness.
The candle flickered again, shadows dancing on my mother, revealing the widening smile of a predator on the matriarch's face. My stomach churned, a dark premonition forming in my mind.
"To restore our family's honor, HǔPò, you must bear a child with the man who defeated you."
The air left my lungs, the world spinning around me.
"W-what?" I stammered, confused.
My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, disbelief evident in every syllable.
"Don't be fool, girl. Mate with the Dragon Warrior. Bear a strong heir. An heir who isn't weak like you."
I stammered, my mother's order echoing in my ears.
"Mom, I... I can't..."
"Silence" she cut me off, her voice a whip crack.
"Mom, please..." I begged, my voice a desperate whisper.
"Please what, HǔPò?Please, spare me the shame? Please, let me continue to dishonor our name?" She laughs at me, a sharp and cruel sound, echoed off the walls. "No, HǔPò. No more weakness. No more dishonor."
She stood, her imposing figure looming over me.
"From now on, you are banished, HǔPò. Exiled! If you wish to enjoy the family's wealth again, return pregnant with the Dragon Warrior's cub."
"Mom..."
"Out of my sight, before I seek my guards at you."
[Edith Nivea]
I woke up with the sun warming my face, a silly smile on my lips.
'What a wonderful dream I had,' I thought, stretching.
The dream is still vivid in my memory, Marcus and I, finally together. Just remembering it makes me giddy.
I turn to the side, my eyes still heavy with sleep. Then, I freeze in place.
Right next to me is Marcus, naked and with his back turned to me in my bed. The sheets tangled between his legs, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm.
"It wasn't a dream," I whispered, shocked.
Reality hit me like a runaway train.
"Marcus and I made love?" I questioned, whispering in disbelief.
Marcus stirred, a low grumble escaping his lips. My heart raced in my chest. He adjusted, his muscular body stretching lazily. I took advantage of the moment, carefully sliding out of bed.
I glance back for a second. Marcus remained asleep, his face serene. I sighed in relief, my body relaxing slightly. I tiptoed to the door, each step calculated.
The door creaked slightly as I opened it. I paused, holding my breath. Marcus turned in bed but didn't wake. I left the room, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
In the hallway, I leaned against the wall, my heart still pounding. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to organize my thoughts. But before I could think of anything, the doorbell rang.
DING! DONG!
I dashed down the hallway, my long ears swaying. The wooden floor creaked under my feet, but there was no time for caution. The doorbell echoed through the house again, urgent, insistent.
DING! DONG!
"I'm coming!" I say desperately, reaching the door.
I yanked the door open abruptly, my heart still racing. On the other side stood a young tigress woman, thick-lensed glasses balanced on her nose, a large suitcase by her side.
"Edith Nivia?" Her voice was firm, straightforward.
"Yes, that's me," I confirmed, my voice coming out firmer and more confident than expected.
The tigress woman looked me up and down, her yellow eyes assessing every detail.
"I see, then I assume Mr. Marcus Carvalho is also present?"
A pang of irritation shot through me at the nosy cat's question, an unexpected possessiveness taking hold.
"You ask too many questions," I retorted, my voice drier. "Who are you, and what do you want with him?"
The tigress woman adjusted her glasses, a timid gesture that contrasted with her firm posture.
"Miss Nivia, you probably don't recognize me, but Marcus and I have met before."
I stared at the tigress woman, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. In response, the visitor sighed wearily but nodded, understanding my skepticism.
Slowly, the tigress woman straightened her posture, standing tall with her chest puffed out, making me almost recognize her. But it was only when she removed her glasses that I finally recognized her.
"Yami Kage?" The question escaped my lips before I could stop it.
The tigress woman, now revealed as the ninja Marcus faced in the ring, fixed me with a piercing gaze. Her yellow eyes gleaming with an intensity that made me take a step back.
"I see you've finally recognized me, Miss Nivia," her voice was a low growl, laden with authority.
I stared at the tigress woman, my mind racing.
"What do you want here?" The question came out before I even stopped to think. "You've come to kill Marcus and reclaim your honor."
Yami Kage's eyes widened, shocked. Her hands rose in surrender, her long, elegant fingers trembling slightly.
"No, Miss Nivia, you've got half of it wrong," her voice came out hurriedly, a tone of urgency that wasn't there before. "I'm not here to hurt Marcus. Quite the opposite."
I crossed my arms, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. The whole situation was too strange, and I wasn't about to make it easy for this cat.
"What do you want here, Yami Kage?" I asked, almost spitting the sentence at her.
Yami Kage averted her gaze, her cheeks blushing slightly. She fidgeted with her hands, restless, her long fingers intertwining and untwining in a nervous rhythm.
"I... I came to live with my husband," her voice came out low, almost a whisper.
I stood there, frozen, my mouth hanging open in shock. Yami Kage's words echoed in my mind, a whirlwind of confused thoughts.
"Husband?" The word escaped my lips, almost a whisper. "Who is your husband?"
Yami Kage looked at me, her yellow eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and nervousness. She took a deep breath, her hands still restless, her long fingers intertwining and untwining in an anxious rhythm.
"The Dragon Warrior," she replied in a reverent tone, as if it were a sacred title.
My jaw dropped, shock coursing through my body like lightning. The rabbit in me wanted to flee, to hide, but my feet were planted on the ground, immobile.
"Marcus?" The question escaped my lips, stammering, uncertain. "Are you talking about Marcus?"
Yami Kage nodded, her expression serious, determined.
"Yes, Miss Nivia. Marcus Carvalho is my husband."
The confirmation hit me like a punch to the gut. I took a step back, my hand pressing against my chest, as if to contain the pain spreading through me.
"No... it can't be," I murmured, my voice trembling. "Marcus never mentioned..."
Yami Kage took a step forward, her hand extended in a comforting gesture. I recoiled, the distrust still present.
"Miss Nivia, please, let me explain," her voice was soft, almost pleading.
I shook my head, tears threatening to fall. I couldn't hear this. Not now. I needed to talk to Marcus, understand what was happening.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, before turning and running down the hallway.
The bedroom door slammed against the wall as I pushed it open, the sound echoing through the house. My eyes scanned the room, but what I found makes my heart tight in my chest.
The bed was empty.
The sheets rumpled, the pillow still bearing the imprint of Marcus's head. But he wasn't here. I walked to the bed, my trembling hand touching the cold sheet.
"Marcus?" I called, my voice low, hopeful.
No answer.
I looked around, the room silent, empty. Then I noticed the open window, the light breeze swaying the curtains. I walked to it, my heart heavy. The window faced the garden, the flowers swaying gently in the wind.
"Marcus is gone?"
[Marcus Carvalho]
"What a dad joke." I muttered irritably.
I stood before a shop with a faded sign: 'Golden Fleece & Needles.' The window displayed balls of yarn, knitting needles, and some finished pieces.
"Something's not right," I spoke to myself while checking the address I was given. "This is the place."
I pushed the shop door open, a bell chimed. The smell of yarn balls and wool enveloped me. My eyes scanned the place, looking for any sign that the mafia tigress hadn't lied to me.
Walls lined with shelves stuffed with colorful yarn. Baskets overflowing with knitting needles. A central table displayed samples of finished work.
"That old pussy lying bitch," I grumbled, frustrated, looking around.
At the back of the shop, an elderly anthro canine with faded golden fur, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, adorned her face, and in her hands, two knitting needles moved slowly. As soon as she noticed my presence, she gave me a curious look.
I approached slowly, my eyes fixed on the elderly anthro. A badge hanging from her apron caught my attention: 'Mercedes Toretto.' I stopped at a respectful distance and ran a hand through my hair, trying to look presentable.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Toretto. My name is Marcus Carvalho," I said, pausing to see if she was paying attention.
The anthro canine's eyes widened, as if my presence or actions were something worthy of astonishment.
'Oh come on,' I think, frustrated. 'Did I already mess up?'
Not wanting to put her in a bad mood, I decided to continue.
"Sorry to bother you, but-." I tried to speak but was cut off.
The lady threw the knitting needles and flashed me a motherly smile. She took off her glasses, letting them hang around her neck by a golden chain.
"Oh, what manners!" She said, all happy. "It's so good to see a handsome young man like you being so polite."
I stared at the smiling lady with one eyebrow raised, clearly confused by the topic of her conversation.
"These days, females throw themselves at males, showering them with attention and gifts," the lady explains standing up with some difficulty, her joints cracking. "That's why most of the pretty ones are rotten inside."
It sounded like a redpill argument, only about men instead of women.
"Then comes this handsome, polite boy into my shop to brighten my day," the anthro canine says, all bubbly and happy.
With a speed that didn't seem to match her age, Mrs. Toretto lifted the countertop and approached me.
"Now tell me young man, what do you need?"
Now that she was close, I noticed that Mercedes Toretto was quite tall, even compared to most anthro canines and lupines I'd seen on the streets. She must have been over two meters tall(6.5 f) hunched, with a robust build that denotes strength, despite her advanced age.
I stay silent for a few seconds, analyzing her. Her golden fur, though worn by time, still shone under the shop's light. For some reason, Mercedes interpreted my silence differently than curiosity. Her eyes softened, and she smiled, her tone trying to calm me.
"Oh, my boy, don't be afraid," she said, her voice sweet as honey. "Nonna Toretto won't hurt you."
I frown, offended.
'Afraid? Me?' I thought silently, shocked. 'I've faced a basilisk in a staring contest, made demons cry in poker games, convinced a succubus to take a vow of chastity, and my greatest feat... I single-handedly taught a tribe of goblins to read and write!'
I open my mouth to protest, but she had already moved, disappearing through a door at the back of the shop. Quickly she returns, carrying a tray with fresh baked cookies.
She places the tray on the counter beside me and gave me an encouraging look.
"Go on, take one," she said, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. "I made them just now, they're delicious."
'Damn,' I tink, frustrated. 'Can't stay mad at someone who gives me free cookies.'
I took a bite of the cookie, and my eyes widened.
The flavor exploded in my mouth, a perfect mix of peanut butter and chocolate. It wasn't something I ate often in Brazil, so I was caught off guard by the novelty of it.
"Wow, this is really good," I murmured, still savoring the cookie.
Mercedes smiled, satisfied with my reaction.
"I'm glad you liked it, my boy," she said, picking up another cookie and offering it to me. "Go on, eat as much as you want."
I take another cookie and bite into it, feeling the flavor intensify.
"These cookies are amazing, Mrs. Toretto," I complimented, my mouth still half-full. "You used cinnamon and Mondo salt on then, didn't you?"
The canine lady looks at me in awe, genuinely surprised.
"What a sharp palate, my boy," she commented curiously. "Do you cook?"
I confirm with a nod. Mercedes watches me with shining eyes, as if I were an adorable pet she wanted to adopt.
"How wonderful," she said, her voice full of admiration. "Such a polite, handsome, and well-raised young man. Your wife must be very happy."
I swallowed the cookie, feeling a slight discomfort at the turn of the conversation.
"Actually, Mrs. Toretto, I'm single."
Mercedes's eyes widened for a moment, and then she flashed a mischievous smile.
"Single, are you?" She says, her voice laden with intent.
But I was too busy grabbing another cookie to notice any intention behind her smile.
"So, my boy, what brings you to my shop?" She asked, her tone sweet but with a touch of curiosity.
"Actually, Mrs. Toretto, I came to sell gold, but I think I'm in the wrong place."
Mercedes's demeanor changed completely. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening into a thin line. The sweetness and affection from before vanishes, replaced by an aura of authority and danger. She no longer seemed like a caring grandma but someone to be feared.
"Gold, is it?" She said, her voice cold. "And who told you a knitting shop buys gold?"
The sudden transformation caught me off guard, but it didn't intimidate me. On the contrary, it made me even more curious. I kept my gaze steady on hers, unwavering. Calmly, I grabbed another cookie from the tray, feeling the weight of her stare on me.
"Madame Hún sent me here," I said before taking a bite of the cookie, savoring the sweet and salty taste.
Mercedes's expression changed again, now a mix of surprise and curiosity.
"Are you the Dragon Warrior?" The lady questioned.
I started coughing, my mouth full of cookies. My eyes watered as I tried to catch my breath. Mrs. Toretto watched me, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.
"Sorry," I said, my voice hoarse. "I forgot I had that title now."
The coughing finally subsided, and I could breathe normally. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to regain some composure. Mrs. Toretto watched me, her eyes narrowed, analyzing my every move.
"So you are the Dragon Warrior," she said, her voice laden with curiosity. "The most powerful male in the world?"
I confirm with a nod, my gaze unwavering. Mrs. Toretto stared at me for a few more seconds, as if trying to read my soul. Then, as quickly as she had changed before, her face softened, and she gave me a genuine smile.
"Well, my boy, you're full of surprises," she said, her voice sweet again. "How much gold do you have to sell?"
"How much can you buy?"
[Shanika Jackson]
My bulletproof vest scratches against my chest as I approach the perimeter.
'As if it wasn't enough that I had to pay extra for this custom vest, it's squeezing my bust,' I thought, frustrated in silence. 'I don't hate being born an orca anthro, but sometimes it's too inconvenient.'
The morning sun reflects off the windows, creating an intense glare that nearly dazes me. Beside me, my lieutenant, a fox anthro with sharp eyes, monitored the bank with binoculars.
"What's the situation inside?" I ask, crossing my arms.
The lieutenant lowered the binoculars, sighing tiredly, her face serious.
"Seven Anthros, all armed. They entered the bank thinking it would be easy, but we arrived before they could escape with the money. Now, they're holding twenty hostages, five of them males and children."
"Shit!" I cursed, frustrated, thinking about the media circus if any hostages, especially the males, got hurt. "Any demands so far?"
"The usual," the fox replied, looking at me. "Money, transportation, and safe passage. But the leader seems unstable. She's already punched a hostage, so we back off."
"Jumpy bitches are such a headache." I murmur, thinking about how to handle the situation. "Are the snipers in position?"
The lieutenant hands me the binoculars. Through the lenses, I saw the chaos inside the bank. Hostages huddled on the floor, terrified faces. Two armed Anthros paced back and forth anxiously, as if searching for something to solve all their problems, while four others stood guard near the hostages, and one was kneeling, smiling as she handed a steaming drink to a young, dark-skinned human male.
"What the hell is she-."
"Three snipers in position," the fox cut me off, her voice a tense whisper. "But only one has a clear line of sight to an armed robber, unfortunately not on the ones with the hostages."
"Fucking hell, Lieutenant!" I exclaim, frustrated.
"I'm afraid I have one last piece of bad news. The mayor's office called before you arrived."
"And she said she'd send more reinforcements?" I suggest sarcastically. "Maybe even a helicopter..." I conclude, laughing bitterly.
I tighten my grip on the binoculars, feeling the frustration grow. The lieutenant beside me shifted her weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortable.
"The mayor wants to negotiate personally," the fox finally blurted out.
"Negotiate?" I repeated, the disbelief evident in my voice. "Does she think this is a movie or tv show? We have lives at stake here, we can't play her political games!"
"Orders are orders, Captain," the lieutenant explained, frustrated. "The mayor made it clear that you'll be held accountable if you don't follow instructions, which will affect your chances of getting a state-assigned husband."
My eyes widen, an abyssal fury boiling inside me. The mayor's audacity, using innocent lives as pawns in her political game, filled me with a rage that threatened to overflow.
"If I'm going to be held accountable..." I growled, already tasting blood in my mouth. "I'll lead the raid myself."
The lieutenant tried to convince me otherwise.
"Captain, think carefully. If something goes wrong, you'll never be allowed to marry... the mayor has connections for that."
But the fury inside me didn't abate. The idea of leaving defenseless males at the mercy of criminals for the mere promise of a husband was unbearable.
"As long as I'm in command, no civilian life will be used for propaganda."
The lieutenant looked at me, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and respect.
"Captain, I understand your frustration, but-."
"But nothing!" I interrupted, raising my voice. "I want at least five more agents to storm the bank with me."
"Anyone specific?" The fox asked.
"Only volunteers," I declared, crossing my arms and staring at the building.
The lieutenant beside me shifted her weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortable.
'Everyone wants a husband. The idea of being alone is terrifying,' I think, feeling a painful emptiness in my heart. 'But I also don't like the idea of forcing a male to marry against his will, especially with someone he doesn't love.'
The memory of a male face surfaced in my mind, a face long gone.
"Dad..." I whisper melancholically.
He was used and mistreated by my mother like a flesh-and-blood dildo. Despite the conditions he lived in, my father tried to stay strong for me and my sisters.
But when I, the youngest, was accepted into the academy... he succumbed to despair and finally took his own life. The only thing the monster of a mother said to him at the funeral was that he hadn't been able to get hard for a while, so it didn't matter to her.
"Haaaaa..." I sigh furiously, just remembering that day. "But today will be different. No male will be used, at least not while I'm around."