#you listed fourteen facts and got fifteen of them wrong

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing’s Wrong with Dale - Part Ten

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing’s Wrong with Dale Chapter 10

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven]  [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] Part Ten [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

A strange sort of silence fills the library after the pair leaves and you take a moment to regain your footing. There’s nothing you can do while they’re gone, you remind yourself ruthlessly. Whatever happens is out of your hands.

Dale has done an adequate job of containing himself these last few days and perhaps it would even be good for him, to expend some physical energy and to re-familiarize himself with those on the hunt. He has all of human Dale’s memories and has shown no difficulty accessing them. That should reassure Grandfather. 

It has to.

You turn to the table, aggressively shoving those thoughts to the back of your mind, where they will no doubt lurk until it's time for sleep, and attempt to focus on other things. Before the interruption, you and Dale had gotten through the majority of the martial plans, and plotted the rough course of your post-wedding tour. You should finalize the letters to the councils, informing them of your attendance at the next meetings and so on. Grandmother’s clerk’s apprentice should be available shortly, perhaps she could aid you in addressing and sending these.

With Grandfather and Dale away, along with a few other members of the household, that left fewer here to do the work, although there will be a bit less of it. Perhaps you can talk over some of these with Grandmother, get her opinion on some of your plans and her impressions of the officials she dealt with the most. 

You start organizing the papers closest to you as you make a mental list of what to do in the next few days. The hunt truly signified the start of the wedding celebrations. The tournament will take a few days in its own right, then you’ll likely relocate to Connton for the city galas, until finally retiring back to the estate for the final balls and the wedding itself. 

A cough startles you from your thoughts and you look up to see Steward Bilmont head moving back down to look at his own paperwork. You frown, wondering why he made what had seemed like a deliberate sound to get your attention when he isn’t even looking at you, when he says, “Lord Archibald seemed surprised by Lord Dale’s attitude regarding the hunt.”

You stiffen slightly. “Yes, I suppose Lord Dale’s head was rather more firmly stuck in his thoughts and paperwork than Grandfather expected.”

“Still,” Bilmont replies mildly, “I expected more excitement from Lord Dale myself. Even some of all this,” he gestures at the table and the papers that cover it, “was rather unforeseen, at least to me.”

You know he means Dale’s interest in Northridge minutiae. “Lord Dale has long been anticipating his inheritance,” you say, only a bit woodenly, trying to stick to the facts. You stand up from your chair to better aggregate the various papers together, to occupy your hands so they don’t shake as they seem inclined to. “It is not such a surprise that he is trying to grasp the reins as early and as completely as he can.”

“No,” Bilmont’s tone is thoughtful and conciliatory. “It is not.”

You calm at that to some extent and try your best to act as though you are focused on the reports, not this idle conversation the steward has started. Why? To what end? What does he know or suspect? You should just hurry and leave before he can ask or make any further observations. Without an outside party to confront, to confirm or deny those observations, he might let it drop, or at least move on to other tasks.

“He did seem to warm up to the idea at the end,” Bilmont says, closing the ledger he was writing in and glancing up at you. Looking back down, he continues, “Although given what happened a week ago, I hope that’s not a mistake.” Your eyes widen against your will as you scramble for something to say. “Given his health.”

“Yes, his health,” you reply, grasping at the pieces of straw he’s offered you. You think he’s testing you somehow, you wonder what he knows, but all you can do is play along. You didn’t think Bilmont was the sort to prod in such a way, but he’s certainly got a reason to—his livelihood is tied inextricably with Northridge, which is tied to Dale. “With the fever gone and his strength returned to him, I don’t think there would be any cause for concern over the hunt. He does use the cane occasionally, but that is primarily for balance, which I hope does not affect his riding ability.” 

Truthfully, that thought had never occurred to you until you said it and now you are worried about that too.

“Yes, I suppose Lord Dale,” Bilmont begins, eyes still on his letter, “certainly, by all appearances, seems to have…recovered… from his illness.”

“Yes, quite.” You dislike the way he says both ‘recovered’ and ‘illness’ and even ‘by all appearances’. 

Does he know about the demon? 

There are also those who are human but suffer side-effects from encounters with the Depths or momentary possession. Perhaps Bilmont suspects what happened, but not the full extent of it. Dale certainly didn’t hide any of his research into demonic activities very well, particularly from any of the servants. Mayhap Bilmont wants to ensure Dale’s recovery or see what you know of it, under the impression something like that has happened?

You find you’ve gathered all your papers into your leather folder and wrapped the cord around so tight it’s threatening to snap. You mechanically unwind and re-tie it. “He seems to be suffering no dramatic physical side-effects from what happened. I think he shall make a full recovery.”

You turn your focus onto the books and ledgers, stacking them up by how you think they were originally, but mind only half on the task. Your shoulders are practically up by your ears waiting for…

“You know,” Bilmont says, his chair scraps against the floor as he pushes it back away from the table. “It was I who found him in his…” he chooses his words carefully, “stricken state. In his study.”

“Oh,” you reply, flinching at the sound of your own high-pitched exhale at that information. You suppose it had been rather naive to think Dale had managed to get somewhere less conspicuous before needing further attention that night. You have no doubt Bilmont is referring to the hidden room in Dale’s study. 

Shit.

Perhaps he’s not trying to get information from you. Perhaps he’s trying to figure out what you know. It’s still possible he only found Dale in the main part of his study and that after everything, Dale had managed to clean up after himself in the hidden room without anyone knowing. But it’s a tough sell, even to yourself. You have to try though, you can’t be the one to give it away.

“That must have been quite a scene,” you say tentatively. As far as you know, none in Northridge besides Dale himself are particularly familiar with demon summoning given Grandmother’s distaste, but the steward isn’t an idiot. If he truly found Dale, unconscious or the like, in the hidden room, with all the demon summoning paraphernalia then he has to know.

“Yes,” you see him swallow, eyes unfocused as if remembering. “Quite. Made a mess.” You’re certain he saw the hidden room now, given the drawn look in his eyes. “I’d thought Lord Dale had passed at first. No pulse, you see.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say. Under your panic, your mind is racing with distant questions like: does that mean Dale died before the demon took over his body? Did the demon not know how to pump blood through a human body at first? Is that something he could forget even now? Could he do it wrong? You are suddenly very aware of the rush of your own blood through your veins. 

You wish you weren’t. 

“The physician was very distressed when called and pronounced him deceased four separate times in those first few hours until the Lady told him to stop,” Bilmont continues, staring down the table at you. “Once he seemed stable enough, though in the grips of his fever, she left him to Lord Archibald and Doctor. Until the doctor was sent away, of course.”

“Yes, I recall,” you say faintly.

“Although he seems to like your brand of medicine just fine,” Bilmont’s next words hold the hint of accusation in his voice.

You manage to contain your flinch, discharging the nervous energy by fiddling and fidgeting with your clothing. “It’s nothing,” you say, daring to look back at him. “That’s likely why he tolerates them. Little homemade teas and tonics from when I was sick as a girl.”

“They still seem to have made an impression on him.” You feel like he means to say that you left an impression but that doesn’t make any sense. When you only gaze back at him blankly, he clarifies more leadingly, “The entire ordeal seems to have left quite an impression on him.” Bilmont’s voice is skeptical and wary, “On his countenance at least.”

“Yes,” you give a jerky nod and venture, “I suppose an experience like that might give one cause to re-examine their choices and what is truly important to them.”

“It might,” Bilmont allows. Then his expression hardens. “Lord Dale was never much given for introspection.”

“No,” you agree. “He wasn’t.”

“He seems more inclined these days,” Bilmont says, gaze narrowing. “Almost a changed man, one might say. A different man.”

“Yes, he does,” you murmur, feeling almost numb. Bilmont knows. He knows what happened and what Dale is. It's all over then. Or is it? After all, he’s merely telling you this, talking with you in private. He broached this topic so why? Does he know that you know?  Can you persuade him? Persuade him to work with you rather than against you. “A better man.”

“Oh, is he now?” Bilmont’s cool demeanor falters and a hint of a manic edge enters his voice. You wonder if his attitude so far has been more of a front than you realized as he unravels to some extent in front of your eyes. “You think this—this novel Dale is indeed improved. That he is to be trusted?”

You tilt your head to the side. Bilmont is a realist as you are. “Was he to be trusted before?”

Bilmont falters, his fingers tightening around the ledger in his hands. “I knew what-who he was then. We managed.”

“Yes,” you nod. “We would have had to manage with him, around him. I think now… Now I think he is someone I can work with.” When Bilmont just stares at you, you gesture to the table, still covered in papers. “How do you think this would have gone previously?”

Bilmont scowls, which mirrors your sentiments exactly. You say your piece anyway, “If he took the time to contemplate any of this, he would have cherry picked the councils that interested him to take charge of personally and left the rest to us. He would have installed those he wished, regardless of their suitability or the offense to Grandfather.”

“He would have,” Bilmont concedes. “But I knew that he would. Because I knew him. I knew what to expect. I don’t know that anymore. Anything could happen. He seems relatively fickle, one new idea to the next and they seem like fine ideas, but what if the next one isn’t? What if he grows bored of this?” He gestures at both the table and at the large map of Northridge. He takes a step closer to you, his eyes a bit wild.

“He is an entirely different, different person,” Bilmont hisses. He seems to have left fear behind and is incredulous, leaning towards anger. “Who we know nothing about—not of their goals or plans or—proclivities. And you think we should—what? Just go alo—”

“Yes,” you interrupt, your heartbeat loud in your head as he voices everything you’ve already thought a dozen times over. “Like a different person. One without the flaws and vices of before. One who, thus far, has only shown himself to be polite and intelligent and who wants to invest in this life, in Northridge—not waste it on frivolity and pettiness. 

“I have far less reservations of him, than I did of…before,” you’re content to talk around this as he is. “Different reservations, with more assessment to come. But fewer. Can you tell me true that you do not? That you prefer the unaltered to the one we have before us now?”

There is a long silence as Bilmont stares at you, long enough for you to want to try to calm your breathing, to want to check your hair after behaving in such an agitated manner, to want to look away. But you don’t. 

He looks away first.

“No.” Belmont shakes his head slowly as he looks back up at you. “I can’t say that.”

“I’m not—I’m not saying this isn’t an, an absurd situation to find ourselves in.” You try to gather your thoughts, to put them in some semblance of an order because while you hadn’t expected to have to articulate them, perhaps if you can, you can convince Bilmont to your side of things. “That he hasn’t, hasn’t changed. But think on the alternatives and tell me which you think is better, which you think has the least potential for harm.”

Another long pause before Bilmont admits, “This is a very delicate situation.”.

“Yes,” you agree immediately, because it is. 

“There aren’t many other avenues to explore,” he taps his pen against his ledger, “you are not wrong. For Northridge at least.” His eyes narrow at you, suspicion on his face. “However you are not bound to it, not yet.”

“Aren’t I?” you ask blithely. 

“No,” his voice is blunt and unamused. “You aren’t.”

“Perhaps not, but…” you try to find the right words. “I think you overestimate the number of other choices I have—separate from Northridge and after—if anything. If anything deteriorated here.”

“I suppose,” he says, but you can see skepticism in his eyes as well as some judgment, some pity–some condescension.

It’s that more than anything that makes you straighten. Defensive and raw with the conversation as it is, you will not have this. “You think you have a clearer picture of my situation than I do? You think I have not thought as long and hard about this as possible?” You’re speaking too fast, too offended to keep your tone even. “That I am not still thinking and evaluating. I am still ready to step back, if it is necessary. But I am aware of what it would be to no longer be connected with Northbridge and what it would have been like to be Lady Northridge before—even more aware than you.”

He seems to concede to your point, or at least he is unreadable to you once more. “I did not mean to imply you had not.”

Your posture eases to a degree at his words. “I mean to say that you are not telling me something I do not already know and that I have not already made my decision regarding. Unless something occurs which dissuades me, I will marry Lord Dale as he is now, more happily than I would have who he was before and with more hope to the future, for myself and Northridge.”

“You truly believe that,” Bilmont says and you know it isn’t a question. He sighs, rubbing his forehead, before saying, “I cannot speak against it, although it feels foolish, because I do believe I agree.” Your eyes widen at his admission even as he cautions, “I reserve the right to change my mind, but for now…” He nods. “Yes, I will accept who he presents himself as. 

“His grandparents must never find out,” Belmont cautions. “Neither would recover well from the shock, if indeed they did at all, and you’re right, the resulting inheritance debacle would be most disastrous.”

“I’m worried about this hunt,” you confess, if its fears you’re sharing. “Grandfather is definitely noticing he is different, just as Grandmother has not, for she has always wished to believe the best of Dale.”

Bilmont snorted, seemingly more comfortable now that you are speaking frankly. “Yes, her largest blindspot, truth be told. Losing Remington and even Qiana, who had not been in her life long, was devastating to her. For a woman renowned for clear sight, he is a black spot–as to some degree is her vendetta against the tool which was used to take her son from her. We all wondered, what with Lord Dale barely trying to conceal his new hobby from her, which of the two would supersede the other. Given she’s never even made a passing remark about his predilections, I suppose we now know which. Hopefully, that will work to his advantage now.”

“I shall endeavor to do my best to help keep his condition to myself and away from their notice,” you say, a pledge almost, and he nods, seemingly having expected it. “Now that he’s feeling better physically, he seems to have better control over himself, general hunger aside.”

“Yes, he just needs a bit more practice with some of the things he says,” Bilmont says and you are inclined to agree. “Someone will take note eventually.”

“Yes, I try to help brush over them, but,” you give a small shrug, “I’m not the best at smoothing over conversation.”

“Nonsense,” he waves a hand at you and smiles kindly. “You do just fine, my Lady.”

“Thank you, Steward Bilmont,” you reply, warmed by his words. It gives you the courage to say, “I believe we can do this though. Do you?”

He takes his time to think it over, briskly tapping some papers to the table to straighten them out as he does so. Then he gives a sharp nod. “Yes, I think we can.”

You leave the library shortly after, feeling more than a little wrung out from your conversation with Bilmont, but also all the time spent talking over Northridge with Dale. There’s so much coming up ahead—it's as daunting as it is exciting. 

Still, there is one clear fact to you, that you are coming away with: you have an ally.

[Part Eleven]

[dannyphantomrpg]

Visual Aid: 14 PHAN-TASTIC Facts About Danny Phantom!

Edit: I have no idea why tumblr is flipping out. If you click to Keep Reading, the punctuation is fixed. ???

Hey Hart Phans! I'm going ghost! Or it's "goin’" without the "g". Goin' Ghost. I'm goin’ ghost! You guys like this? Is this is a cool hoodie or what? Check this out. This is based on my Danny Phantom 10 Years Later design. And if you're good, if you're really nice and leave a nice comment in the comment section below and give me a like or subscribe, I just might leave a link in the description below so you can get one of these yourself.

If anyone has the link to the 10YL hoodie, I’ll leave it here.

Fourteen years ago, this week, Danny Phantom premiered on Nickelodeon. So we're gonna do 14 awesome things about Danny Phantom.

Number one, it's a show about teenagers. Danny, Sam, and Tucker - all teenagers in a high school. A lot of shows centered around kids in elementary school, kids in preschool, but not a lot centered around a high school. And I think a lot of kids in their teenage years when they first encounter Danny Phantom really responded to it really well because Danny was going through the same things they were going through, you know? Dealing with girls, dealing with boys, the high school dance, bullies, all those sorts of things. Danny Fenton was going through the same things a lot of the audience was going through. I think that's really why Danny Phantom resonated with a lot of kids and why it still resonated with a lot of teenagers today.

Number two, relationships. Danny Phantom is an awesome show chock full of relationships. And what's cool about that is, you know, everybody loves great characters who have great relationships because that makes it easier for the audience to relate to them. Danny's relationship to Jazz. She loves him but treats him like a little brother until she finds out he's got ghost powers and then she wants to be part of his super team. Danny's nerd relationship with Tucker. They're the best of friends. Danny's relationship to his bumbling, ghost-fighting parents who don't realize that their son is the ultimate ghost prize they've been searching for. And finally, Danny's relationship to Sam. I mean, Sam and Danny start off as really good, close friends and as the show builds, their relationship builds as well. And it finally ends in Phantom Planted where they fly off into the sunset and we're all left wondering, do they get married? Does this relationship continue? What happens to Danny and Sam? And that's awesome. Cause people want to know. Do you want to know? Let me know in the comment section below.

Number three, ghost powers! I mean, how many cool characters you can think of have ghost powers? I can name a few. There's Deadman, from DC Comics, he could sort of take over people's bodies, and he was dead. There's The Spectre from DC Comics who's a big, huge, otherworldly ghost no one can really relate to, but he's kind of cool, I guess. There's Phantom Girl from Legion of Superheroes who... no one's really ever heard of. There's Casper the Friendly Ghost, who... is friendly. And then there's Ghost Rider who rides a motorcycle and isn't really a ghost. He's got, like, a flaming skull head and a chain, so anyway. But Danny had all these cool powers. He had plasma blasts, he had a ghostly chill, and could shoot cold out of his hands because ghosts give you a chill up your spine. He could turn intangible and go through walls, he could grab you and turn you intangible and pull you through walls. All these really cool things and not a lot of other characters have had powers as cool as Danny Phantom.

And in Danny Phantom, we had a rule. We were writing the show that none of the ghosts would be dead people. We never wanted to be the ghost of a dead person. We wanted the ghosts to be creatures from another dimension that could take the shape of a human, could take the shape of something, but they would never be a deceased person's spirit. Like, you'll never see Danny Phantom fighting the ghost of Elvis Presley or the ghost of Abraham Lincoln. I should, we should make a cartoon where Lincoln fights Elvis. Let's write that down! Let's do that!

Number four, Danny's parents. And the fact that they don't know that their own son is the ultimate ghost prize they've been looking for. I mean, let's face it. Jack and Maddie Fenton are awesome. They love each other, they're people of action, they, they kick ghost butt all the time, they got amazing weapons. But the one thing they can't seem to figure out is how to catch a ghost and, number two, that their own son is the ultimate ghost that they've been looking for.

Number five, the Box Ghost! I am the Box Ghost! Actually, not just the Box Ghost, but all of the Danny Phantom ghost villains. Let's face it, without a good group of villains, a hero and a show, or comic or whatever, doesn't have a really great chance to shine, and Danny Phantom's villains really give him a lot to play off of. From the comedy of the Box Ghost, to the sultriness and the musicality of Ember, to the sinisterness of the ultimately deadly Vlad Plasmius, and the action and edginess of Skulker. All of these villains really, really gave Danny Phantom this ultimate ability to become an awesome hero and to give the audience something to really, really be excited about and someone to root for.

Number six, the songs. From the opening notes of the Danny Phantom theme song *hums*, you knew that was Danny Phantom. The end credit music is amazing. The music inside the show, where Danny's fighting a ghost, or when a relationship gets really tender, there's a tender moment. The music there is amazing, too. Plus, to top it all off, the amazing song by Ember "Remember" was a great song. People just loved that song and have really responded to it really well. So I think Danny Phantom didn't old have some of the best music in cartoons, but in all of television.

Number seven, the costume. Starting off with just a black jumpsuit, white boots, white gloves, white belt. We ended up adding a logo into the costume, and I think adding that awesome cool D with the ghostly tail and the P inside of it, elevated that simple, normal costume of Danny's in the first season to one of the most iconic superhero costumes of all time.

Number eight, the Ghost Zone. The Ghost Zone gave Danny a whole other dimension, pardon the pun. I mean, not only does Danny Phantom have to fight ghosts in our world, but then we have him the Ghost Zone where he's got to go fight ghosts there are well. And the awesome thing about the Ghost Zone was that we could give Danny pretty much anything we wanted to in the Ghost Zone. It was really a world with no rules. There were some rules. But what was cool about it, we could have anything we wanted to in there. We could have Frostbite's frozen home world, we could have the Ghostwriter's Library, we could have Skulker's island where he chased Danny and Valerie Grey. We could have doors that opened up into any dimension, in any time period that we wanted to. It just really expanded Danny Phantom from being a city-based superhero show to a dimensionally-based superhero show.

Number nine, superhero ideas. Now, Danny Phantom was one of those shows that took a lot of the classic superhero ideas and kind of turned them a little bit inside out and used them in their own way. For example, the secret identity. Danny Phantom had a secret identity like Clark Kent, or Bruce Wayne, or Peter Parker, but the interesting thing is all of Danny's villains pretty much knew his secret identity. And none of Danny's family did. Also, comedic versus sinister moments. Danny Phantom was a great show, had examples of being funny one second and then being ultimately scary and having lives at stake the next. For example, in The Ultimate Enemy, Danny fights Box Lunch, who is the daughter of the Box Ghost and the Lunch Lady one minute, And then the next minute, he's fighting the ultimate bad, evil future version of himself, Dark Danny, from the future. It was a great show and taking those sort of classic superhero ideas and using it in its own way, keeping those ideas pure, but making it it's very own.

Number ten, story length. We watch a half-hour cartoon show, you can tell one one story, have a commercial, and tell another story. Two eleven minutes in the half hour because we did eight minutes for commercials. Little behind the scenes stuff there. But Danny Phantom was one of the first shows ever that told its stories in 22 minutes. We had a long time to tell our story so we'd have the first part of the story, and then an act break, and then the last part of the story. Danny Phantom even had a cold open before the titles. I don't think I've seen a cartoon like that ever since.

Number eleven, the serialized storytelling in Danny Phantom. What does that mean? Well, basically what it means is you'd watch one episode of Danny Phantom, no problem. It made sense. Watch another one, that one makes sense too. But if you watch all the episodes of Danny Phantom in order, they're all connected in some way. Each episode ties into the next because we're always constantly building the story, the characters, and the world as the show goes on. And that was unique back then, that wasn't really done a lot back then. So I think Danny Phantom really paved the way for a lot more serialized cartoons to come out after it.

Number twelve, the voice acting on Danny Phantom. I mean, not only did Danny Phantom have amazing character concepts, and amazing character designs, but the voice acting, I think, brought the characters up to a whole new level. Like, David Kaufman as Danny Phantom, Rob Paulson as Jack Fenton and Technus, Ricky D'Shon Collins as Tucker, Colleen O'Shaughnessy as Jazz Fenton, Tara Strong as Ember McLean, Martin Mull as Vlad Plasmius, Eric Roberts as the Ultimate Enemy Dark Danny from the future, Jon Cryer as Freakshow, and the list goes on and on and on. These characters not only look great, not only written great, but the voice acting brought them up to an incredible level that, I think, that audience still responds to today. And that's why people love the characters of Danny Phantom.

Number thirteen, the awesome phans - P-H-A-N-S. The Dany Phantom phans are legion. They are unbelievable. you're all awesome, and you're the reason this show still lives on and on and on and on. From the original episodes of Danny Phantom on Nickelodeon to my videos, Danny Phantom 10 Years Later, all the stuff I do with Danny Phantom here on the channel. You guys are what makes Danny Phantom special because you will not let the show go away. And I'm here with you 100%. I want Danny Phantom to live on as long as you do. So keep sending me requests, keep letting me know what you want to see as far as Danny Phantom goes. We'll keep doing amazing stuff and keep making you guys happy because Danny Phantom deserves to go on, and you guys deserve to see more.

Ok, and the fourteenth awesome thing about Danny Phantom is... Young Danny Fenton, he was just fourteen. What? Did I say young? That's right, I said "young". A lot of you think it's "Yo Danny Fenton". It's not. It's "young". How do I know this? Cause I wrote the theme song. So I know, and I wrote "Young Danny Fenton", that's what it is. It is "Young Danny Fenton, he was just fourteen". Did I blow your mind? I blew your mind, didn't I? I didn't mean to.

Hey, I'm so glad you guys are phans - P-H-A-N-S - happy 14th Danaversary, to Danny Phantom

[painsandconfusion]

Whumping the Whumpers Masterpost

The story of how a chronic whumpee(Ethan) teams up with his past whumper(Nate) to get revenge on the whumpers who have whumped him before. Lots of angst. Lots of whump. My babies, honestly.

(SO sorry the Hyperlinks inside the first four posts won’t work since I moved blogs. I tried to fix them and tumblr glitched tf out. You’ll have to navigate with the masterpost. I’m so sorry, please message me if you need help finding something tumblr ate.)

Click here for most recent update of the list (in case you’re looking at an rb or something).

Please read individual trigger warnings for each post.

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Whumper: Nate Walker (he/him) Whumpe(e)/(r ): Ethan Scott (he/him)

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Main Storyline:

Part One: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, but... Whumptober post (sorry it’s nameless). Nate re-captures Ethan, and is less than thrilled by Ethan’s newfound pain tolerance and ‘bitch make me’ attitude. . Part Two: Blood Redd Nate thinks Ethan might like to see Redd again. . Part Three: Whisked Away Nate is butt-hurt Ethan didn’t call him. They got problems that need attending to. . Part Four: You Know You Want To... Rescue mission. Nate is creepy (cuz when is he not), and Ethan struggles with himself and his desires. . Part Five: My True North Ethan does a really really good job almost maybe making good choices. . Part Six: Such a Good Girl... Nate isn’t great at not getting what he wants. . Part Seven: The Bartlett Café Boys eat food, boys talk murder. Nate’s creepy but in a cute way. Mostly fluff. . Part Eight: So Flinchy! Alec gets Anna settled in to her new hell home. . Part Nine: Get in, Bitch, We’re Going Shopping Wait...you don’t buy matching outfits with your bestie to wear when you kidnap someone? You’re missing out. . Part Ten: Pretty Little Noises Nate and Anna have their first session. She’s really cute. Nate almost can’t handle it, she’s so adorable. . Part Eleven: Save a Horse, Swipe a Cowboy Aww look! Their first kidnapping together. Honey, get the camera! . Part Twelve: In the Zone The boys get Elias settled at Nate's dungeon place. Ethan is too shy to whump in front of anyone else yet. Poor baby. . Part Thirteen: No One Owns Me Ethan really needs to keep his emotions in check if he wants to be a good whumper. Elias really needs to not push buttons if he wants to not die. . Part Fourteen: Blowing Off Steam Nate is stuck with damage control after being denied ~fun~ but is doing a great job. . Part Fifteen: Chaos Anna is in too much pain to not have any marks to show for it. Rude, honestly. . Part Sixteen: Right and Wrong Ethan broods like a depressed, half drunk poet (like he always does) to tell us about Our Merry Little Murderers' origin story. . Part Seventeen: Own Destiny Ethan broods again because that's who he is as a person. He's tired of not knowing what to do with himself or his life....so Nate and he come to an arrangement. . Part Eighteen: Fluffy Pancakes Listen. Guys. I know you want to get to the whump, but....Well, Nate was craving blueberry pancakes. And I don't have the heart to tell him no. So you get fluff before the brutal torture. Sorrynotsorry . Part Nineteen: Gruel 101 Nate likes oatmeal. Ethan hates Elias. Nuff said. . Part Twenty: You're Going To Need Your Strength Elias hates the oatmeal. Everyone hates everyone. Fun fluffy angst. . Part Twenty-One: Bigger Fish Frikkin finally we get to actually hurt Elias - Nate bleeds because @cryptidhongo drew me a feral shroom in exchange. Fight them, not me. . Part Twenty-Two: Master A little bit of karma is good for the soul. . Part Twenty-Three: Hiding From Everyone has secrets. Who's closet is this skeleton going in? . Part Twenty-Four: Run, Anna Runn Well. I mean, at least you can try. Good luck tho. Her last name is Gunn; I did not misspell, it is a punn >:p . Part Twenty-Five: Ship in a Bottle ...Ethan didn't have a great childhood. This is just one exhibit of that fact. . Part Twenty-Six: Scream for Me I scream, you scream, we all scream for therapy. . Part Twenty-Seven: Valentines Special Just fluff. Nate likes Ethan, Ethan likes laser tag, it all works out in the end. . Part Twenty-Eight: The Carrot and the Stick Throwback episode to four years ago. Meet Johnny. Ethan's first love and unfortunate whipping boy. . Part Twenty-Nine: Lacuna Time to get Crawford in the basement already. Also - seems like Ethan has history with him? Whatever, I'm sure the plot will unravel it eventually.

Part Thirty: Not the Knife Crawford's pretty sure he's just already getting a bit of a break for his first night in Nate's workshop. This can't be that bad .....right?

Part Thirty-One: Concrete Crawford isn't doing so hot with that, actually. He'd rather get carved up. Ethan think's that's a great idea.

Part Thirty-two: Strikeout Failed escapes. Amiright?

Part Thirty-three: Nightmares and Daydreams The boys can't sleep. Toss in some gore and fluff and you got yourself a chapter update. Bam.

Part Thirty-four: Die Here Anna is starting to come to terms with her fate. Nate thinks that's cute. Short and sweet. Anna learns Ethan used to be in her shoes. Maybe he still is...

Part Thirty-five: Bath Good boys who take pain well get restful relaxation (probably?)

Part Thirty-six: Something's Not Right Not all wounds are visible.

Part Thirty-seven: Silent Stranger Keep quiet.

Part Thirty-eight: Off Guard Sometimes whumpees get out of their handcuffs. Sometimes, in a room full of weapons, they grab one while they wait for the doors to unlock.

Part Thirty-nine: Kristen Throwback to 'Anna is a bitch'.

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Ghost of Ethan Past

(flashback scenes from Ethan's days as a whumpee)

Stay Down: Elias hasn't had Ethan long, and Ethan is doing a very very very bad job at the 'get on your fucking knees when I enter a room' rule.

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Random Stuff:

You know how people have spirit animals? Well this is Nate and Ethan’s spirit tiktok....Thought you might wanna see...

Nates house visual reference.

Whumpee Ethan noncon mody modification collar alternative

Nates Custom Chuck Taylors

(tags: @prisonerwhump, @whumpawink, @mabledonut, @heathenwhump, @paleassprince, @happy-little-sadist, @wormwriting, @distinctlywhumpthing, @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @pickywhumpreader @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @shelfsdesires @throwawaywhumper @the-mourning-stars @d-cs @pigeonwhumps @hold-back-on-the-comfort @suspicious-whumping-egg @snakebites-and-ink @whumpedydump @orphans-parent @rainbowsandwhumperflies)

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - Chapter Twenty Five.

It’s back! Sorry for the short break but I needed to get ahead. Almost at the end now though, guys. Another 2-3 chapters after this will likely see it to the close. 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 2,368

Warnings - None

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

“Keep calm, breathe deep. This is Tyler, Mr Brush with Death and always lives to tell the tale. He’s harder than a coffin nail. He’ll pull through this.”

Paris’s words should have been a comfort, but Zoey’s mind was in freefalling turmoil, nothing sticking, nothing assisting in pacifying her. “I don’t even know where he’s been shot, or how many times!”

“It can’t have been anywhere really dicey, because of his vest, of course.”

“He’s still in surgery, though! And has been for hours, more than likely, if he was shot at 2pm this afternoon!”

“Okay, calm down, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! I’m sorry to shout but it isn’t! And she didn’t fucking tell me!”  

It was all Paris could do to keep her relatively calm during the journey, groaning internally when they pulled up at the emergency entrance to see Ella outside on the phone. Zoey had exited the Uber before she could even tell her to keep calm, striding over to her sister and recoiling her fist just as Ella hung up, turning to meet a punch straight in the face from her irate younger sibling.  

“You absolute bitch, Ella! Tyler gets shot and you don’t even think to drop our feud for five minutes and do the decent thing in telling me?” she screamed, shoving her so hard, Ella tripped and fell back on her bum.  

“He’s my husband still. I was the one who needed to know first and be here, for his kids,” Ella stated, Zoey hardly able to believe her ears.

“Other than finding a gentle way to tell them their daddy got hurt at work, you having his children does not fucking supersede you in any goddamned way! He’s my fucking boyfriend! I’m the one who should have been here for the last six hours, not you! What if something had happened to him, what if he’d have died and I hadn’t been here? I know I deserved you to be stone cold towards me after what we did, but in a life-or-death situation? You’re the one in the wrong here, Ella!”

Getting up off the floor, she went to speak, being cut off by Paris.  

“Don’t give me the big eyes, Ella. I agree with her. And believe me, up to this point, I’ve been quick to tell her how wrong she’s been. This time, though? You deserved every word. In fact, the only thing she did wrong was to not punch you even harder than she did.” She spat, steering Zoey inside the hospital, giving Ella a look of pure distain as she held her eye, frowning.  

She was still reeling with anger after approaching the desk, asking the nurse for an update.  

“I’m sorry, but we can only give that information to Mrs Rake, being his emergency contact,” she explained, shaking her head.  

“You see, the thing is, my friend here is his girlfriend. He and his wife are separated and in the process of divorcing. Miss Hudson should be the one given that information,” Paris interjected with, being met by further head shaking.

“I apologise, but I can’t unless I hear differently from Mr Rake himself.”  

The finality of her words indicated she wasn’t to be swayed, Zoey taking a seat and waiting. She had to hope that despite just near knocking her sister out, she’d share any news over Tyler’s condition with her, or that she might be able to get something out of Pete if he happened to be passing and of course, knew anything more other than the fact Tyler had been admitted.  

“Who’s that woman sitting with Ella?” Paris asked, Zoey watching her sister, her face bright red in the wake of her knuckles meeting it at speed, sitting down next to a short blonde with one of those angular bob haircuts, significantly longer at the front and a look Zoey had always wanted to try, but feared wouldn’t suit her.  

“I vaguely recognise her, but I can’t think where from. To be honest, I don’t care. I just want to know my honey is okay.” Paris nodded, wrapping her arms around her, shooting Ella another glare.‘The fucking audacity of her. He could have been dead for hours and what, she still wouldn’t have told Zoey? Arsehole.’ Her thoughts remained firmly gunning for her best friend’s sister, but outwardly Paris let Zoey lean on her all she needed, literally and figuratively, keeping her fury to herself.  

She did, however, keep an ear pointed in their direction.

“You’ve only yourself to blame. No matter about the affair, or your hurt feelings, this was life and death. She needed to know,” the blonde woman spoke quietly, emphasising her words by touching Ella’s arm at several points.  

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Ella, we’ve spoken about this, your propensity to be self-righteous and not see things from the viewpoint of another.”  

“I suppose you’re right. I should have told her.”

“Taking the correct accountability, that’s good, really good.”

“I still don’t wanna talk to her, though.”

“Well, that we can work on.”

‘She sounds like her bloody therapist. Maybe she truly is seeing one after all. Perhaps she was in the middle of a session when she found out about Tyler. Seems odd that she’d be here with a patient after six hours, though.’

They waited for a further hour before a nurse came to speak with Ella, her friend advising her to go and fill Zoey in, but Ella remaining in the seat. With an eye roll, she got up, striding over. It was then that Zoey recognised her.  

“Hi, Zoey. Do you remember me?”

“Yeah, I do. Hi, Camile.” She and Ella had been friends in school, but had lost touch. It seemed they’d reacquainted again.  

“Since your sister is being her usual obstinate self, I thought I’d come and let you know that Tyler came through surgery well and he’s in recovery. He was shot once in the thigh and twice in the opposite shoulder, one of the bullets grazing an artery, hence why he’s spent so long in surgery, so they could fix that. I dunno if you’ve seen but two out of the three shooters are dead. The third was arrested. Anyway, I just thought I’d keep you posted.”  

With a nod and a smile, she turned and went back to Ella, Zoey being able to just about hear her sister vent about loyalty. “Ells, she’s still your bloody sister, and right or wrong, Tyler is hers now. It’s really only her who should be here and going in to see him.” Ella remained silent, Camile sighing and giving her thigh a little supportive squeeze, as if to remind her that although her actions were pissing her off, she was still her friend and there for her.

Just then, Zoey had her attention distracted by a text coming through on her phone.  

‘Look up and to your right, then follow me. Sorry for being clandestine!’

Looking up, she saw Pete hovering around across the other side of the vast lobby by the stairwell doors, heading through them once he was sure he’d seen her.  

“Hey, sorry but I didn’t want a big scene with Ella. Tyler’s come round alright, little bit woozy still, but he was competent enough to say he wanted to see you and not to let Ella in after I told him she hadn’t let you know. Again, no one wants a scene in a hospital, so one of my colleagues will be going to let her know she’s no longer his in case of emergency contact. I’ve updated his file with your details. Come on, let me take you to him.”

Heading down a floor, they walked along a huge corridor, the sounds of machines beeping and announcements being called, Zoey’s heart racing a little with nerves. Turning right, they reached the room he was in, Tyler smiling at her from beneath his oxygen mask.  

“Stop this, tiny. No tears, I’m alright. Hurts a bit, but Pete’s a good bloke, he’s got me shot up on all different types of painkillers,” he croaked, Zoey grasping his hand and sniffing as she began to sob.  

“You could have died!”

“And because of my ex, you wouldn’t have known if I had. I’m fucking livid with her. I didn’t though, Zo, it’s alright. Come here, gimmie a kiss.” Moving his mask, he beamed at her, looking moderately less like he hadn’t been through hell in that moment, Zoey planting the kiss he sought upon his lips, relieved beyond measure that he was okay. “I’m fine, don’t cry, baby.”  

Reaching for her as well as he could, he stroked her face, nuzzling her, whispering how much he loved her, Pete discreetly working around them, checking Tyler’s stats. “Don’t be pissed off at Ella too much. She got what she deserved for not telling me.”

“She hasn’t, because I’ll go mad at her once I’m better.”

“No, baby, leave it. She did, because I just punched her in the face.”  

“You didn’t!”

“I did.”

“Okay, let’s keep things calm and steady, your pulse is starting to escalate.” Pete intervened with, although he was trying hard not to laugh.

“It’s because I’m entertained by little mouse here punching someone! Come on, mate, you’ve gotta admit that’s funny!”

“It is, but mate, you just got shot three times and came out of a five-hour surgery, you need to rest. By that end, Zo, you’ve got just under twenty minutes and then visiting time is over. I’ll come back for you then.”  

Only Tyler could go through all of that and still laugh weakly through his oxygen mask at the thought of it, his usually timid girlfriend slugging his ex. For the rest of her visit, she just sat and soothed him, Pete coming back in briefly after she alerted him when his pain started to spike more than he could manage on his current dose, Tyler drifting in and out of slumber thereafter.  

Kissing his head, she promised to go and visit him as soon as she was done at work the following afternoon.  

“Zo?”

“Yes?”

“When you come back, can I get a blowjob?” He mumbled, Pete snorting with laughter, Zoey shaking her head.  

“Only you could get shot three times and still have sex on the brain.”

“I have a standard I need to uphold. See you tomorrow. Love you.”

Exchanging a few more kisses, they said their goodbyes and she went upstairs to find Paris, feeling much calmer than she did upon her arrival. Still though, after arriving home, she couldn’t get to sleep easily, all the thoughts of what could have been flooding her brain. Zoey found as the days passed and she witnessed Tyler slowly begin to get stronger, they lessened again, though. A truly welcome relief.  

“I can’t believe they have you doing physio already!” She exclaimed, on the phone to him on her lunch break a week later.  

“Yeah, they’ve got to get me up and walking. My leg was good, but they’re concerned about my left-hand grip. I’m sitting here now with a squash ball, trying to squeeze it as tight as possible. My bloody arm keeps trembling though, so they might have to cut me open again, they said they’ll see how it goes.”  

She hated the thought of him needing more surgery, but if he was to return to work with full use of both arms, which in his profession he definitely needed, especially handling firearms, if it needed to be done then there was no question he had to go back under the knife.  

Telling him she’d see him that evening, she hung up and continued to enjoy her lunch of Pho from the comfort of her office, the air conditioning blasting on cool. It was a particularly warm summer. She was just enjoying the spice of a piece of chili ground up between her teeth when her phone rang again. Usually, she’d have been irritated, but those chimes...

“Answer the damn phone, you fancy bogan!”

Fran.

“Hey, hey you. God, I don’t know what to say, since I haven’t spoken to you in so long and last time, I was such an arsehole,” she began, Zoey thinking that much was true, no matter how deserved. “I wanted to call up and tell you I’m sorry, see how Tyler is, all that. I’m real flippin’ pissed off at Ella for not telling you in the first place, that wasn’t right at all.”

No one sided with Ella there, it seemed. It felt immature, but such gave Zoey a little shot of triumph, to have her feelings vindicated like that.

“He’s doing well. They’re not happy for him to leave just yet, the shoulder wound is something they’re monitoring closely. They’ve got him doing physio though and he’s coming along well. He can walk, his leg is good but his left grip isn’t right.”

“And how are you?”  

“I’ve been worried, obviously. How about you?”

“Ahhh, fuck, Zo! This isn’t about me! I chose sides and I shouldn’t have, really I shouldn’t. I won’t make that mistake again. I’m still speaking to Ella but I did tell her it was wrong not to call you. I just want to try and put the family back together, so I guess that means taking a step and reaching out to heal our rift. I know it’ll take a lot more work to get you and Ella speaking again, especially now because of this.”  

Zoey snorted, chewing through a slice of pork. “I’ll say. I’m not finished being mad at her yet, but when I am, I would like to work on things, try and get some kind of relationship back with her. Despite everything, I still love her. I have a lot of my own wrongs to right with her as well, I’m not just conveniently forgetting that it was my actions which caused the rift in the first place. I need to give Tyler my full concentration right now, though.”

Fran understood, the sisters making plans to meet for lunch the following day, Zoey very much looking forward to it. Finally, something had fallen back into place.

[huntergatherercreator]

The Takedown | Part Sixteen

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Some slight sexual content

Catch up here: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen

Part 16 – 1,318 words

He leaned against the sink. Fingers clenching and unclenching against the cool porcelain. He wasn’t sure what annoyed him more. The fact she’d got the upper hand over him, again, or that he'd enjoyed it. He needed to get it together. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by how good she'd looked straddling him.

Straightening he pushed both hands through his hair roughly. Glaring at his reflection he sighed before adjusting the front of his jeans, hiding his lingering excitement.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered to his reflection. He hated the situation he’d found himself in. Taking out Rivera was supposed to be easy. Everything he’d done since Arnold fucked him over had gone wrong. Now he only had six days to fix his mistakes before he lost the reins to the city completely. He needed to be focused on finishing what he started. With another dark look at himself he returned to the kitchen.

The sound of barely suppressed laughter had him prickling. Rounding into the kitchenette his eyes went right to her. She had a hand over her mouth trying to hold back another laugh as she smiled at Joe. A flare of jealousy had him pausing in the doorway. Shoving his hands into his pockets to hide his fists he threw a level look at Joe. Instantly he straightened from his perch against the counter, expression sobering. He felt a stab of guilt. Joe was a good man. One of his best. Lifting his designated coffee cup he stalked to the window.

“Would you like me to do another perimeter sweep, boss?” Joe asked after clearing his throat. He nodded, not trusting his voice to come out as anything other than a snarl.

“Save me one of those sandwiches, I won’t be long,” Joe requested. Tom turned in time to see Joe wink at her. A buzzing stared in his ears. He channelled all his energy into not crushing his coffee cup. Fixing his gaze out of the window he took measured breaths. The click of the door closing rang out in the quiet of the room.

After a beat of silence she stood to offer him a wrapped sandwich.  “I meant it when I said I can take over from here. If you’re not hungry I can make up the couch or you can take the bed if that’s easier.”

He threw a her a side long look. She was still holding breakfast out to him. Her open expression made it clear she had no idea the things he’d thought about doing in that bed. In his bed. On the kitchen table. He’d watched her work all night as his mind wandered to it’s darkest depths. Determined to work her out of his system any way he could he’d suffered through it. Especially after ‘the incident’. He refused to call it a kiss. Feeling his cock twitch against the waistband of his jeans he knew all he’d succeeded in doing was torture himself. Being alone with her wasn’t going to end well. He cursed himself for sending away Joe. He had to get out of the apartment.

“I have to get to the office.” Her eyebrows rose at his statement. “What?” he barked. Her judgment wasn’t something he’d expected to bother him.

“Nothing. I’m just thinking how much more efficient this would have been if we’d had faster internet and a second computer.”  

He narrowed his eyes at her. The dark part of him instantly started questioning just how sturdy his desk was. “You’re not coming with me.”

“It was worth a shot,” she shrugged with a faint smile. Settling back at the table she cradled her coffee.

“If you need anything ask Joe. He’ll be back soon.”

“Wait, you’re leaving Joe here? Don’t you need him?”

“I thought you wanted him here.” The words were laced with a hint of the jealousy he’d felt earlier and he hated himself for it.

“I want his information, but not at the cost of you being unprotected.” He watched her grab her notebook from the counter. A flicker of pain had her frowning. She rubbed absently at her arm before tearing out a section of the paper she’d written on. The dent to his pride gained after she made the kill shot against his attacker lessened as guilt pricked at him. She had risked her life for him. She had the scar to prove it. Not many of his own men could say the same.

Holding it out to him she said, “Call me with the information later.”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he tucked the paper into his back pocket.

“How’s your arm?” he asked using the excuse of removing the lid from his drink to keep his eyes down.

“It’s fine,” she said after a pause. He didn’t need to analyse her to know that was a lie.

“It better be.” He took a long sip of coffee before meeting her gaze.  Her expression was the one seared into his mind. The hard set of her jaw, lips pressed firmly, eyes critically assessing him. After being around men who regarded him either warily or with blatant fear it was refreshing. He enjoyed seeing it. He enjoyed being the one who caused it.

The door opening broke her stare as she glanced over his shoulder. The way her face relaxed had his shoulders tightening. Capping his coffee, he collected his jacket and strode to the door with a curt nod to Joe. He didn’t wait for him to catch up.

*Detective POV*

With a surprised look we both watched Holland stride out of the apartment. Grabbing a sandwich I tossed it at Joe.

“We need a list of the men that Rivera might be hiding investments under. Holland has my number to call me later with the details.”

Joe nodded, eyes distant for a second. “I’ll see what I can find out for you.” A small smile and he was swiftly darting into the hallway to catch his boss.

I sank down at the kitchen table and rubbed at my arm again. As blunt as he’d been he was right, I needed my arm to be in the best shape it could be. It had been healing steadily but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. It was still a weak spot and one that could be easily exploited if we got caught nosing around the lions den. I didn’t want to have to ask for help, especially not from him, but there was no safe way to get my wound treated at the hospital without it being reported. Zoey may know someone who would help but I wasn’t convinced she’d go out of her way to help me yet. Not after everything that happened in the bar.

Picking up my pen I scribbled down the five names that were rumoured to be associated with Rivera. Staring at them I knew I could start working on tracing them myself but if something did come up and Joe’s list didn’t contain them it’d be hard to find an explanation Holland would believe. Tapping against the paper I frowned. I’d clearly gained his trust, or something along those lines, for him to relent control over the investigation but for how long? His moods were mercurial, the bouts of anger and frustration so hard to predict. He needed sleep, or possibly something stronger to force him to relax. Not that his stress wasn’t justified. What he was attempting to do, what we were, was a long shot. I’d worked closely with the detective who headed the Rivera taskforce. They’d had about as much luck of tracking him down as my team had with Holland. I blinked, the sudden realisation of the situation I was in resurfacing. I had the very slim, but real, chance of taking them both down. I knew I had to prepare for every eventuality.

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Taglist:

@spideylovin @lukesbabylon @panicattheeverywherekid @keep-bears-wild @unbelievableholland @tomholland-mcu @whattheheckparker @stargazerholland @gorillaglue23 @marvelpeters @weirdowithnobeardo

Part 17!

[ibijau]

a prompt (a/b/o, bc i like how you write it): the sunshot campaign has just ended, and nie huaisang is looking forward to a future in which he can devote himself to wooing lan xichen. the match would be a little scandalous—it’s rare for an alpha to marry in, as nie huaisang intends to—but alpha-beta pairs are perfectly normal, and lan qiren is certainly more accepting of his first nephew’s crush than of lan wangji’s. less than three weeks into peacetime, however, nie huaisang’s plans hit a massive snag: jin zixuan has presented as an omega, removing him from the jin line of succession (and nie huaisang cannot help but be a little offended by that, on da-ge’s behalf—omegas can lead just as well as anyone else! the jin succession tradition is just stupid). but that’s the way things are in the jin sect, and so madame jin is scrambling to put together a marriage to get her son out of lanling before the worst happens... and the top two candidates on her list just so happen to be lan xichen and nie huaisang himself.

hello and welcome to: I like that prompt a little too much and got carried away, so now it’s 8K long. Also on AO3

warning for some mentions of rape toward the end of the story

Nie Huaisang’s plan starts when, at the tender age of eleven, he is introduced to the boy who doesn’t yet go by the name of Lan Xichen and is about to become his brother’s closest friend. Nie Huaisang, young as he is, decides that this is his true love, and of course he must ensure Lan Huan and him have the most perfect future possible together. He learns about Gusu Lan, reads as many books as he can, educates himself in the four arts, and even makes a vague effort to somewhat improve his cultivation, all so he can be the perfect spouse for a future sect leader.

A little after turning fourteen, Lan Xichen presents as a beta. It is a small deviation from Nie Huaisang’s plan, who was firmly expecting his beloved to be an alpha, but that is no big problem. Lan Xichen is Lan Xichen, he is the most perfect person in the world. Details don’t matter too much.

Another deviation from Nie Huaisang’s plan occurs when, a few days short of his own fourteenth birthday, he presents as an alpha. That, of course, is an absolute disaster. Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to be an alpha. Qinghe Nie is full of those, and he isn’t too impressed with them. He is on the brink of a complete meltdown when he figures that if his brother can be an omega who has all the qualities of an alpha, then surely he can be an alpha living the easy going life of an omega, including marrying into another sect. 

Of course Nie Mingjue isn’t very happy that Nie Huaisang refuses to behave like a proper alpha, like a proper Nie, but he can hardly make an arguments against that choice without undermining his own position, so it doesn’t matter. Nie Huaisang cheerfully goes back to planning his happy future, researching cases of an alpha marrying into another sect. There are more of those than he would have expected to find, and though it is mostly alpha marrying other alphas, Nie Huaisang now knows he can rest on a precedent to argue his case.

With all this settled, the hardest part of his plan begins: seducing Lan Xichen.

It is easy enough to be sent to the Cloud Recesses to study there. A little too easy, really. Nie Huaisang suspects that his brother wanted him to go there anyway just to have some peace, and in hopes Lan Qiren might straighten him out a bit. Nie Huaisang doesn’t mind though, since it gives him a chance to be close to the love of his life. He also doesn’t mind his dreadful grades which give him a good excuse to spend time with Lan Xichen, begging him to help. Lan Xichen, generous and kind and patient and perfect in nearly every aspect, as well as eager to be a good friend to Nie Mingjue, even by proxy, of course agrees and allows Nie Huaisang to spend far more time in his room than is probably reasonable.

It would be a little scandalous really, but when Lan Qiren once tries to raise the issue in front of his nephew, Lan Xichen just laughs gently.

“Huaisang is nothing more than a little brother to me,” he says. “How could anyone think any different?”

It is a hard blow to Nie Huaisang’s fragile teenage ego, and a new setback to his perfect plan. At the same time, he has been in the Cloud Recesses for almost half a year by now, and has already guessed that this is how Lan Xichen sees him. Two years of difference won’t mean much once they are adults and married, but right now it is a pretty big gap.

Having accepted this, Nie Huaisang changes his plan again, but not his goal. If all Lan Xichen needs from him at the moment is a less stuck up little brother than the real one, Nie Huaisang will be happy to provide. He likes making Lan Xichen laugh anyway, and it’s obvious that Lan Xichen enjoys having someone to guide and teach in a way Lan Wangji won’t allow.

He can be patient, when he needs to be.

He can also be exactly as stupid as the situation calls for. It’s easy as anything to completely fail his exams. Lan Qiren almost has a qi deviation on the spot after reading Nie Huaisang’s final test, and Nie Mingjue is furious, but he can deal with that just fine, as long as he gets to come back another year in the Cloud Recesses and make sure nobody else can seduce the love of his life before puberty fully hits and gives him his fair chance.

-

That second year in the Cloud Recesses proves to be a test of Nie Huaisang’s determination in ways he hadn’t expected.

In his defence, the world has many more pretty boys than he ever realised.

Lan Wangji, heinous little bitch that he is, got hit hard by puberty in the short time that Nie Huaisang went home. He’s suddenly a head taller than Nie Huaisang, and looking every bit the alpha that he is even though he’s a year younger. Nie Huaisang is devoured with envy because just two months ago, Lan Wangji was just a baby, but suddenly he is very, very handsome.

Then, there’s the other guest disciples as well. Most are pretty decent looking, but some stand out from the crowd. Jiang Cheng has a bone structure to kill for, sharp eyes, and his rare smile is as radiant as sunshine on the lingering snows of spring. And everywhere he goes, Wei Wuxian follows, tall and more graceful than any boy of fifteen has any right to be. They make a stunning pair of alphas, really, to the point that it worries Nie Huaisang when the three of them strike a friendship of sorts. First, because there’s a few times when he finds himself wondering what it’d be like to kiss one of them, which is an awful betrayal of his one true love Lan Xichen. Second, because his looks are already inadequate to begin with, so hanging out with those two only makes him look even plainer by contrast.

What Nie Huaisang needs, he decides after a few weeks, is someone less pretty than him to spend time with, so he’ll look somewhat handsome next to them. And so, after some brief consideration, his great plan changes again to adapt to this new situation.

Nie Huaisang becomes friends with Jin Zixuan.

Well, saying they’re friends might be pushing it. Instead, Nie Huaisang forcibly spends time with Jin Zixuan, when Wei Wuxian is being punished by Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng is studying, and Lan Xichen is too busy as well. It’s rather clear that Jin Zixuan isn’t very enthusiastic to have company. Quite frankly, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have picked him as a companion either, if he’d had a choice. Jin Zixuan is haughty, has no conversation, no humour, a bad personality, and is just all around boring. He is also tragically baby faced, hasn’t even presented yet, and has nothing to recommend him except for the fact that his father is sect leader. It is practically a charity case. Indeed, when Lan Xichen hears that Nie Huaisang has been trying to become friends with Jin Zixuan, he congratulates him on it.

“I think he is a rather lonely person, isn’t he?” Lan Xichen remarks. “I’m glad you’re trying to help him. Hopefully you’ll help him relax a little.”

“Like I do with you, Xichen-gege?” Nie Huaisang boldly asks.

Lan Xichen laughs a little awkwardly, and Nie Huaisang could swear there’s a spot of colour on the older boy’s cheeks.

“I suppose I do relax when I’m with you. Are you thinking of replacing me, now that you’ve found a friend more your age?”

“Of course not,” Nie Huaisang earnestly promises. “Xichen-gege will always be the most important person for me!”

Lan Xichen smiles gently at him. “You are a good boy, and I’m sure your brother will be proud of you. I know I am.”

Hearing this, Nie Huaisang nearly faints from happiness. Just for this, it’s worth it to put up with Jin Zixuan.

But in fairness, as weeks pass, Nie Huaisang finds it a little easier to be around Jin Zixuan. The other boy mellows a bit, like a wild beast being slowly tamed. And once Wei Wuxian leaves, Jin Zixuan suddenly isn’t so prickly anymore, now that nobody is constantly taunting him and picking fights with him. He even has a sense of humour, when you know how to spot it. The first time Nie Huaisang bursts out laughing over a muttered remark Jin Zixuan made, it’s hard to say who is most surprised.

Besides, Jin Zixuan is one of the few people Nie Huaisang has met who doesn’t judge him for not striving to be a perfect alpha. Just like Lan Xichen, Jin Zixuan is surprisingly accepting of Nie Huaisang’s peculiarities.

“I prefer someone like you over some alphas who act right in public, then do everything wrong in private,” Jin Zixuan says with open disdain one day, as they walk in a garden of the Cloud Recesses.

It is a beautiful summer day, and the school year is almost over, which makes Nie Huaisang rather sad. He had planned to stay another year, still to make sure that nobody else makes a move on Lan Xichen, but he’s starting to think it will be lonely without the other friends he’s made.

“Well, I’m hardly much of an alpha in private too,” Nie Huaisang argues.

Jin Zixuan shrugs. “Not in the typical way. But you’re very protective of the people you care about, right? And you like to make people feel included. Like me and Lan gongzi… even Lan er-gongzi, when he lets you. You really don’t like when people seem lonely, do you?”

A little embarrassed to have such kind motives assigned to his actions, Nie Huaisang doesn’t reply right away. He pretends to inspect some gentians near Jin Zixuan’s feet, admiring how the deep blue of the petals contrasts rather beautifully against the gold of Jin robes.

He can’t explain that he’s always around Lan Xichen because he’s madly in love with this perfect boy, or that if he’s nice to Lan Wangji, it’s mostly just because they’re going to be in-laws someday. Above all else, he absolutely can’t tell Jin Zixuan why he decided to start spending time with him, mostly because he’s changed his mind so much since then. Jin Zixuan really isn’t boring after all, and he’s not quite so plain after all. Even if his face is still a little too round and soft for his age, there are signs here and there of what a handsome alpha he will be one day. Out of everyone he's met this year, Jin Zixuan is Nie Huaisang's favourite new friend.

“Jin-gongzi is giving me too much credit,” Nie Huaisang says at last. “I just wanted a friend less annoying than Wei-xiong, and you happened to be there.”

“Is that why you only call me gongzi, when you’re never this formal with others?” Jin Zixuan asks, sounding… not quite hurt, he has too much self control for that, but still…

Well, still a little bit hurt, actually.

“I know how your sect likes formality,” Nie Huaisang explains. “I just don’t want to disrespect you.”

“The Lan too are very formal, but you call Lan Xichen ‘gege’ all the time.”

“Oh that’s different, that’s just because he’s my da-ge’s friend!” Nie Huaisang lies. “We’re close enough the two of us, so it’s fine to call him like that.” An idea hits him, and he leans toward Jin Zixuan with a wicked grin. “If you’re so jealous though, I can call you Jin-didi. Would that work for you?”

In an instant, Jin Zixuan’s face turns a bright red and he splutters in anger. Nie Huaisang can’t help laughing at that cute reaction.

“Who says I’m jealous?” Jin Zixuan explodes. “What’s there to be jealous about?”

Nie Huaisang pokes him in the ribs, still laughing. “Jin-didi, it’s fine to have a crush on an older boy, it’s normal! I understand, I really do! Thank you, Jin-didi, for entrusting your heart to me!”

“Stop calling me that!” Jin Zixuan shouts, so mortified that he’s nearly crying.

“Jin-didi! Don’t worry, this Nie-gege doesn’t mind at all. It happens, it’s because you’re probably going to present as an alpha soon, and so you’re looking for role models around you. I am so flattered, Jin-didi. It will pass though, everyone grows out of it, don’t worry.”

Jin Zixuan’s face is so red that he looks sunburned, and the dot of cinnabar on his forehead looks almost pale compared to his face.

“You’re so stupid,” Jin Zixuan hisses, shoving Nie Huaisang to the side and stomping away. “I don’t know why I even put up with you, you’re even more annoying than Wei Wuxian!”

Nie Huaisang is too breathless from laughter to stop him from leaving. It’s for the best anyway, Jin Zixuan looked like he might pick up a fight with him for offending his dignity like this, and Nie Huaisang doesn’t feel like being punched in the face.

Still, from that day on, he makes sure to call Jin Zixuan ‘didi’ every chance he gets, just because he makes such funny faces.

-

Nie Huaisang passes his exams at the end of the year, because Lan Xichen told him that Nie Mingjue really doesn’t want him to be away from home this long again, not when the Wens have been acting up lately. For a second, Lan Xichen seems a little sad when Nie Huaisang promises to do his best, but it must just have been a trick of the light. When Nie Huaisang blinks, Lan Xichen’s expression is warm and polite and slightly impersonal, as always.

It’s fine anyway, Nie Huaisang figures. They’re sure to meet again soon. And when they’re married, Nie Huaisang will be able to stay in the Cloud Recesses for good, and they’ll be happy, and Nie Mingjue’s paranoia won’t ruin all his plans anymore.

-

It turns out that Nie Mingjue’s paranoia was, in fact, justified all along.

That’s not such a big surprise, Nie Huaisang must admit. Others tend to think his brother is stupid, but he knows better. Nie Mingjue might be a big brute, but he’s a clever one who understands politics better than anyone would suspect. He doesn’t care to play the game, but he knows the rules and he watches the moves made by others. For years and years he’s tried to warn others of the troubles he’s guessed were coming, but no one listened.

Well, they’re going to listen now, Nie Huaisang figures as he makes his way to Nightless City to serve as hostage with other disciples of Qinghe Nie. It’s kind of hard to ignore when every young master or mistress from every sect in the country is being held and re-educated by Wen Ruohan’s minions.

The whole time they’re there, Nie Huaisang tries to play it cool, like none of this affects him. He’s somewhat lucky because the Wen don’t seem to realise that he’s an alpha, and so they barely pay attention to him, while they endlessly bother Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and even poor Jin Zixuan who hasn’t even presented yet. These four get harassed daily about this and that. Their attitude is too rebellious, or too tame for proper alphas. They try too hard, or not hard enough. They’re too skilled and clever, or else they’re playing stupid and clearly trying to mock Qishan Wen.

In fairness, all of these accusations are absolutely true when it comes to Wei Wuxian. But even if he were to behave properly, Nie Huaisang suspects the Wen would find some fault with him.

Nie Huaisang watches all that and tries to stay out of it. The most he can do, anyway, is to offer the medicine he secretly brought with him (his brother insisted, and he was right as always) and to share his portion of food with his friends whenever they’re denied a meal. At least, when they accept. Jiang Cheng does sometimes, unless his pride gets in his way. Wei Wuxian usually refuses and boasts that he’s been wanting to practice inedia for a while anyway. Lan Wangji isn’t so loud about it, but does the same. Poor Jin Zixuan, though… even when he’s given his own portion of food he always seems hungry, so the days when he must do without are particularly hard on him. He still tries to refuse when Nie Huaisang wants to share, but in his case, Nie Huaisang doesn’t hesitate to insist.

“You’re going to present soon, aren’t you?” he whispers, pushing his bowl of bland, watery congee toward Jin Zixuan who nods miserably. Nie Huaisang remembers the horrible hunger he felt for a few weeks before presenting, when his body was hard at work preparing for the big changes that were coming. Even with all the food he could ask for he’d been starving, so he can’t imagine how much Jin Zixuan must be suffering. “You have to eat, Jin-didi,” he orders. “Please, eat something, or else your Nie-gege will be sad.”

It says a lot about Jin Zixuan’s state that he doesn’t even object to being called this way. Nie Huaisang lets Jin Zixuan have both of his meals that day, explaining that he actually has snacks hidden along with his medicine.

It’s not his best lie, but it does the trick that time, and the following ones as well.

After a week of this, Nie Huaisang is starting to feel a little unwell. His golden core just isn’t very strong, and cannot sustain him through inedia the way it would for others. He’s always known this, there’s just something not quite right with his meridian which means cultivation doesn’t come easy for him. Usually it doesn’t bother him, but after eating so little for several days, of course there’s side effects… but someone has to take care of Jin Zixuan, right?

It’s almost a relief when they’re told one morning that everyone is going on a Night Hunt. It’s not the first one Wen Chao took them on, and while it’s unpleasant to fight creatures without weapons, at least they’ve always been given better rations.

In the end, good rations feel like a poor trade for what happens on that Night Hunt. Nie Huaisang has never been so terrified in his life, except when he was eleven and his father lost his mind… although this is worse, so much worse. His father wounded some people, but he didn’t kill anyone the way that false Xuanwu does, slaughtering anyone it can grab before they manage a daring escape, thanks to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang, who is a fairly decent swimmer, ends up helping Jin Zixuan through the underwater passage, since the other boy is starting to look really unwell. He hasn’t been hurt, thankfully, but it’s clear he’s close to presenting. He must have only a few days left at best, or more likely a few hours.

Maybe that’s why even after they’re safely out of the cave, Jin Zixuan won’t let go of Nie Huaisang’s hand, why he leans so heavily against his side. Nie Huaisang allows it all. He probably should hand Jin Zixuan over to the Jin disciples present, but if they were trustworthy, Jin Zixuan would already have gone to them for comfort, wouldn’t he?

“It’s okay, Jin-didi,” Nie Huaisang tells the other boy while putting his free hand on Jin Zixuan’s forehead. He’s burning, and this is really the worst time and the worst place to be presenting, but it’s going to happen anyway. “I’m here with you. We’re going to get you home, and then you’ll be safe, right?”

Jin Zixuan nods weakly. “Thank you, Nie-gege,” he whispers, and Nie Huaisang’s heart does somersaults in his chest at being called that. It makes him want to keep Jin Zixuan close, to really protect him from anyone that might hurt him.

It’s a stupid idea, of course. Jin Zixuan is about to present, and when that’s over, when he’s an alpha, he’s never going to need anyone’s protection again. What’s happening here won’t last very long.

Nie Huaisang figures it’s fine to enjoy this while it’s there. He’s sure Lan Xichen, if he’s still alive, will understand that even an alpha as weak and pathetic as him needs to feel protective here and there.

-

It takes a long, long while to go home on foot. By the time Nie Huaisang and the other Nie disciples reach Qinghe, a war has been declared against the Wen because they’ve attacked the Lotus Piers and annihilated the entirety of Yunmeng Jiang. Nie Huaisang cries upon hearing this, because Jiang Cheng was fine when he last saw him, because it’s unfair that Wei Wuxian was rescued from that cave only to die like this anyway.

He cries also because Nie Mingjue is going to risk his life, because there’s still no news from Lan Xichen.

He cries because he won’t even be able to help his brother, and is to be sent to the Cloud Recesses where he’s less likely to be captured and used as a hostage again.

He cries because that’s all he’s good for, apparently.

-

Lan Xichen is alive.

Nie Huaisang cries when Lan Qiren tells him, and then doesn’t shed a single tear again and sets to work to be of some use in this war they’re fighting. The husband of a sect leader must be a useful person after all. Lan Xichen will have to deal with so many responsibilities, much earlier than he ever should have to, so Nie Huaisang needs to step up his game and become someone worthy of his future husband. He might be lazy, and spoiled, and a little useless, but Nie Huaisang is also very stubborn when he wants something, and what he wants is Lan Xichen, the most perfect person in the world.

Lan Xichen who smiles with the warmth of a tender spring afternoon, who is always calm and collected, who smells of gentian and pine trees. Lan Xichen who never has a hair out of place. Lan Xichen who always knows what to do, what to say, no matter the situation.

Lan Xichen who looks utterly broken when he comes to visit the Cloud Recesses, three months into the war.

Perhaps to others he doesn’t look so bad. The Lan disciples who are with Nie Huaisang when Lan Xichen arrives don’t comment on it. But Nie Huaisang has been observing Lan Xichen for years at this point, and he can instantly tell that something is wrong. It shows in the way the beta carries himself, how his eyes glance over things as if he cannot see what’s around him, the slight twitch at the corner of his lips when he smiles. Nie Huaisang’s heart aches to see his beloved in such a state. He hates the Wen more than ever, if such a thing is possible, for having hurt Lan Xichen this way.

Because there is so much to do, because Lan Xichen has so many responsibilities now, it seems at first that Nie Huaisang won’t have a moment alone with him. He tries to be fine with that. A sect leader’s husband must know that sometimes he comes second to the sect in question. But the hollowness in Lan Xichen’s eyes haunts him too much. That night, close to the hour for curfew, Nie Huaisang decides that he must offer some distraction to the love of his life, perhaps even some comfort, should Lan Xichen be inclined to allow it.

It’s risky to be out and about at that hour. Even at such a time, the Lan are strict with their rules, and Nie Huaisang knows he will be scolded, or even punished, if he is caught. To avoid that he doesn’t knock on the front door of Lan Qiren’s house, where he knows Lan Xichen is also living for the time being, and instead comes in through the back. He will be in so much trouble if he’s spotted, but love comes before rules. Soon enough he’s inside a private garden, knocking on the door of the only room where a candle still burns.

To Nie Huaisang’s relief, it is indeed Lan Xichen who opens that door for him.

To his horror, Lan Xichen looks even worse than before, his eyes red from crying.

“Huaisang, what are you doing here?” Lan Xichen asks, trying to quickly regain his composure.

“I thought I’d come see you, Xichen-gege. You looked like you might need a friend.”

Lan Xichen takes in a sharp breath, like he’s trying not to sob. He manages to keep his face impassive, but two tears still drop on his cheeks, leaving a shiny trail behind. If Nie Huaisang didn’t have such excellent manners, he would lunge forward to kiss away those tears.

“I’m not sure I’m fit for company,” Lan Xichen says in a voice that trembles a little. “I find myself in a rather emotional state at the moment.”

“Then you definitely need a friend,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I offer myself, if you’ll have me.”

A few more tears escape Lan Xichen’s reddened eyes, which he tries to wipe away quickly, like a child just starting to learn he’s not supposed to cry in public. Nie Huaisang braces himself for rejection, but Lan Xichen instead pinches the hem of his sleeve and pulls him inside.

“You’ll be in trouble if someone sees you,” he explains. “How unreasonable, Huaisang… didn’t you realise that people might talk, seeing an alpha roaming around at night?”

Of all the things Nie Huaisang has thought about before coming here, that particular detail hasn’t occurred to him. People often forget he’s an alpha, and so does he, most of the time. Outside of his ruts, he might as well be a beta, and he’s convinced people who meet him must think that’s the case. But of course the Lans know better.

“Xichen-gege, I don’t want to cause you trouble or start gossip against you,” Nie Huaisang says. “I wanted to see if I could make you smile, that’s all. If you think I should leave, just say so and I’ll stop bothering you.”

“That might be…” Lan Xichen starts, before choking on his words. “Maybe you should… This is… it is…”

More tears drop on Lan Xichen's cheeks and he gasps in an alarming fashion, trying to stop himself from breaking down into sobs. Nie Huaisang’s heart clenches painfully at the sight. He takes one of Lan Xichen’s hands in his, trying to offer him comfort. Immediately Lan Xichen starts crying in earnest, falling to his knees. Nie Huaisang follows him, sitting on the floor near him, patting his hand, his shoulder even when the sobs get too heavy.

They stay like this a long while, sitting on the floor of that bare room which doesn’t really belong to Lan Xichen and only serves as a reminder of everything that he has lost. Nie Huaisang can’t find any words of comfort to offer, because he knows how empty those would feel. All he has to give is his presence, and his patience.

It is well past curfew when Lan Xichen finally calms down enough to sit a little straighter.

“How disappointed you must be, seeing me so weak,” Lan Xichen says, quickly drying his tears with the fabric of his inner robes. “I’m not the person you think I am, in the end.”

“You are that person and more,” Nie Huaisang sincerely replies. He squeezes Lan Xichen’s hand in his, barely refraining the impulse to kiss it. Seeing Lan Xichen like this, imperfect, angry and hurt, only makes Nie Huaisang love him more. How could he not, when Lan Xichen is giving him this trust? “Xichen-gege, I like everything about you, the good and the bad. I like you when you are calm in front of everything, and I like you when you can’t be strong anymore.”

Lan Xichen sighs and tilts his head, trying to smile but not quite managing it. “Huaisang…”

“I do, I really do!” Nie Huaisang insists. “I just wish I could help you more. I wish I could give you strength when yours runs out. I wish I had the power to protect you against those who would harm you. You make me wish I could be more than I am, so I could stand at your side and be of use to you.”

Lan Xichen smiles, and brings his trembling free hand to touch the alpha’s cheek.

“And I’m glad you are exactly the way you are,” Lan Xichen says with unbearable tenderness. “You are as I want you to be, as I want to see you at my side.”

Nie Huaisang’s heart is racing at those words, and he feels his face flush.

“Xichen-gege, I don’t think you and I mean quite the same thing here.”

“I think we do. I wasn’t sure what to think of this,” Lan Xichen admits, gently cupping the side of Nie Huaisang’s head, who must resist the impulse to close his eyes and lean into that touch. “I thought you only liked the image I try to give, and that you would be disappointed when you’d learn who I really am. But you’re seeing me now, and… you still like me?”

“More than ever,” Nie Huaisang whispers.

Lan Xichen smiles at him, beautiful like dawn after a cold and dark winter night.

“Then when this is over, let’s see how we can deal with this,” Lan Xichen says. “I know there’s precedent for such situations, though it will be unconventional. I fear you’ll have to marry into Gusu Lan, if this is to happen. Could you bear with that?”

Nie Huaisang nods, laughing and crying at once, delighted beyond words to realise that Lan Xichen too has made plans. He knew they were well suited for each other, he knew it all along, and finally he’s proven right.

Finally, he’s going to be happy.

-

The Sunshot Campaign ends, and sooner than everyone expected. Wei Wuxian’s new techniques are to thank for that… or to blame, depending who’s talking. Not everybody is fond of what Wei Wuxian has done during the war. Still, he’s a hero, one of many. Of the young masters of great sects in their generation, only Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan haven’t gained a title for their glorious deeds.

In fact, when Nie Huaisang asks around, it appears that Jin Zixuan didn’t contribute at all to the war, in any way. He wasn’t among those who fought, which isn’t such a surprise when Jin Guangshan barely wanted his sect involved at all. But Jin Zixuan wasn’t on the back front either, and that’s strange. Nie Huaisang knows his friend isn't a coward like him, and must have wanted to contribute in some fashion. Jin Guanshan will have tried to stop him, but Jin Zixuan is exactly the sort of person who would run away and join another sect's troupes to do his part in fighting the Wen. 

Nie Huaisang becomes truly concerned when he learns that while Jin Zixuan has been absent from the war, one of Jin Guangshan's bastards has seen his status elevated and been given a title. Jin Ziyao, Lianfang-zun, is the first out of many bastards that Jin Guangshan has ever seen fit to legitimise. 

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang becomes terrified for his friend. Jin Zixuan looked so unwell that day after they escaped the cave. If his group stumbled upon the Wen, if he was wounded or worse… 

Jin Zixuan is absent from the banquet held in Jinlin Tai to celebrate the end of the war. It is noticed and gossiped about, especially since Jin Guangshan brought not only Jin Ziyao, but also another of his bastards, a mere child who rumour says he might legitimise as well. Worse still, Madam Jin is somewhat polite to both of her husband's bastards, when she's been known to never even allow anyone to mention his infidelities before her. 

Sick with worry, Nie Huaisang cannot eat or drink anything and quickly excuses himself from the celebration. He takes refuge on a platform that overhangs above elegant gardens, leaning over a railing to admire the sight. He hoped that being alone would give him a chance to calm down, but it only makes things worse. Jin Zixuan used to say he'd make Nie Huaisang visit the gardens of Jinlin Tai someday and show the peacocks from up close, but that might never happen now, because he might be… 

Nie Huaisang bursts into tears. 

He shouldn't have let Jin Zixuan go with the Jin that day, he should have kept him close and protected him, so nothing could happen to him. There is no safer place in the world than with a group of Nie, and Nie Huaisang knows even a pitiful alpha like him would have sprung into action if the situation called for it. 

He knows that for Jin Zixuan's sake, he would have easily torn Wen Chao's throat with his bare teeth, if it had come to that. 

Nie Huaisang is still crying when Lan Xichen finds him and silently wraps his arms around him. It helps a bit, if only because it reminds Nie Huaisang that things aren't entirely awful, that even if something happened to Jin Zixuan, he won’t have to face his grief alone. They’ve talked to Nie Mingjue who grumbled mightily against his brother leaving Qinghe Nie, but that was never an argument he could have won, not when Nie Huaisang has prepared for it half his life. Once Lan Xichen’s mourning period is over, they will be married, exactly as Nie Huaisang planned.

“What has you so upset?” Lan Xichen asks, pulling his fiancé closer, enveloping him into the long layers of his robes until Nie Huaisang feels like a chick under its brooding mother.

“I’m worried about Zixuan. Nobody has seen him since the start of the war, nobody knows anything, and he isn’t here tonight…”

Lan Xichen stiffens somewhat, and for a brief moment he loses control of himself enough that Nie Huaisang can smell him, the scent of gentians and pine lingering even after Lan Xichen returns to his usual restraint.

“You’ve become very close to him, haven’t you?” Lan Xichen asks. “I don’t think you’ve asked about anyone else as much as him during the whole campaign.”

“I got news from the others all the time,” Nie Huaisang says. “But Zixuan… and he was in a concerning state last I saw him. I just feel like I should have done more for him. What if he’s…”

“He’s not dead. Ziyao would know, and he would have told me. I’ve asked on your behalf.”

Nie Huaisang smiles, and snuggles closer to the beta.

“Thank you. But what’s the matter with him then?”

Lan Xichen shrugs slightly. “Ziyao doesn’t know,” he admits. “Nobody in Jinlin Tai seems to know, except for Jin zongzhu and Jin furen. She’s the only one who gets to see him, along with a handful of servants loyal to her. Ziyao has heard that his brother might have been cursed, or fell sick somehow, but in the end he’s not really sure.”

“Poor Zixuan, he must be so bored,” Nie Huaisang sighs. He knows his friend is used to a certain isolation, but that’s different from being truly alone. He knows also that Jin Zixuan, when given the chance, isn’t someone who enjoys being on his own anyway, and that he’s an active person who likes to practice martial arts, go on Night Hunts, or even just walk around town and check shops. This situation must be a torture for him. “Do you think they’d let me see him if I asked? Or at least write to him maybe? I’m just so worried...”

Lan Xichen tenses, his scent flaring once again. Before Nie Huaisang can ask about that, he hears approaching footsteps. Since it is highly inappropriate for them to be in such an intimate position in public, and when they’re not even formally engaged, they quickly pull apart to look at the newcomer. Nie Huaisang expected his brother, or Lan Wangji perhaps.

Instead, they find themselves in front of Madam Jin. They promptly bow to her, and exchange a worried glance. She isn’t exactly known for looking kindly at couples who misbehave in her home, and her expression can best be described as cold and angry.

“Do you really wish to see my son, Nie gongzi?” she asks, startling Nie Huaisang who can only nod in answer. “Then follow me. He’ll be glad to have a visit. Lan gongzi may come as well. This might concern him as well.”

Again, the two young men trade glances, surprised by that sudden invitation. Neither of them protests, least of all Nie Huaisang who is only too happy to follow her. Lan Xichen, after some hesitation, does the same. All three of them walk in silence in the labyrinth that is Jinlin Tai until they reach a rather isolated house guarded by two fierce looking betas who have their hands on their swords as soon as they see someone approaching, and don’t let go until they recognise Madam Jin.

“Keep an eye out,” she orders the guards as the three of them go inside. “He’s been drinking, and his rut is coming close.”

The guards nod, and firmly close the door behind Madam Jin and her guests. Nie Huaisang, initially delighted to see his friend again, starts getting worried.

“Is there something wrong with Zi… with Jin gongzi?” he asks. “Why are you locking him up this way? Is he dangerous?”

“There is danger in Jinling Tai,” Madam Jin replies, leading them ahead. She knocks on a door, using an odd rhythm. “Until a better solution can be found, this is the only way I can protect my son.”

The door opens, revealing Jin Zixuan, sword in hand. Only, there’s something off about him, something that Nie Huaisang can’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it’s his clothes, which hang a little oddly and aren’t quite the cut and fabric one would expect on an alpha. Or it is the slight fear in his eyes when he opens the door, quickly replaced by defiance when he sees who is there with his mother, as if he expects Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen to say something unpleasant. And then there’s a smell in the air, fear mixed with notes of flowers.

“Oh,” Lan Xichen says, before pinching his lips so he keeps his realisation for himself.

Jin Zixuan glares at him, then at his mother.

“I told you not to do it!” he says.

“What choice do I have?” Madam Jin replies, pushing her way into her son’s room. “This is the only way.”

After some hesitation, Nie Huaisang follows her inside. Lan Xichen does the same with a certain reluctance, and when they all sit, he does so a little closer to Nie Huaisang than is probably proper, but Nie Huaisang is too stunned by the situation to think much of it.

“I have brought you here to make a request,” Madam Jin announces, while her mortified son hides his face in his hands. “I need help in protecting my son, and after long consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the two of you are the best possible choice.”

“Mother, please, don’t!” Jin Zixuan begs, only for his mother to silence him with a gesture.

“At the start of the war, my son presented,” Madam Jin continues, ignoring the interruption. “Sadly for everyone involved, he presented as an omega.”

Nie Huaisang gasps, and stares at Jin Zixuan who looks like he might start crying. It puzzles Nie Huaisang at first, because there’s nothing bad about being an omega… or at least, not when in Qinghe Nie. Other sects have their own opinions on that, of course. He’s heard people here and there say that it is shameful and unnatural that Qinghe Nie’s leader is an omega, even one that looks and acts like an alpha, but that’s just because people are jealous of Nie Mingjue. All those petty, self-satisfied alpha just can’t stand that someone of a gender they think inferior can be so much better than they will ever be.

Of course, there’s also the fact that in most sects, only an alpha can become sect leader. Even Lan Xichen isn’t nearly as respected as he deserves to be after his brave actions during the war, and that’s not just a matter of age. Still, at least he’s a beta, and from a somewhat reasonable sect. Lanling Jin isn’t so open minded. In fact, everyone says that part of the problem between Jin Guangshan and his wife is that she’s also an alpha, when he is of the opinion that same gender couples shouldn’t be allowed to exist. He was forced into that union by his own father, everyone knows it, and only because Madam Jin's parents paid a high dowry to have her married into such a glorious sect.

"As an omega, my son cannot inherit his father's title," Madam Jin confirms. "He also wasn't allowed to take part in the war, since it would have been improper for him to be in mixed company. Alphas cannot be trusted on a battlefield… Or outside of it, as the case might be." She glances at Jin Zixuan, who looks ready to faint from sheer humiliation, then continues. "To be quite blunt, I have come to feel that Jinlin Tai is not a safe place for my son, and now that the war is over, I am seeking a way to protect him from harm."

"You want to marry him off," Lan Xichen says, his voice oddly cold in spite of his polite smile. "And I suppose you already have something in mind?" 

"If I could, I would have sent him to Yunmeng Jiang," Madam Jin says. "But he has never gotten along with Jiang Wanyin, and my husband won't allow him to marry another omega as that would be improper, so Jiang Yanli is out of the question. So is Nie Mingjue, for the same reason. My husband doesn't want Zixuan to be sent to a sect too small, as he would find it humiliating. I do not want to send my son to a spouse too much older than him, as I fear for his safety. That leaves me very little choice."

Nie Huaisang frowns. He knows Jin Zixuan is more than capable of gutting even an older cultivator if they try to force him into something he doesn't want. He isn't ranked third on that list of bachelors just for his looks. Being an omega doesn't change how competent Jin Zixuan is, and Nie Huaisang has half a mind to say so. 

He doesn't, but only because it suddenly hits him why Lan Xichen and him have been brought here. 

"You want one of us to marry him?" he asks, while next to him Lan Xichen stiffens. 

"You are the best choices," Madam Jin confirms. "My husband would probably prefer Lan zongzhu, but I personally hope you will consider this, Nie gongzi. After all, my son and you are already friends, so it would make things easier." 

"Mother, stop this!" Jin Zixuan hisses between clenched teeth. "This is too… This is unnecessary."

Unsure what to think, Nie Huaisang looks up to Lan Xichen, hoping he will be the one to explain the situation. But Lan Xichen, his face pale and tight, won't look at him, or at the Jin for that matter. It falls to Nie Huaisang to handle this. 

"Jin Furen, I am honoured you would think of me, and I am sure Lan zongzhu feels the same," he says. "But the fact is… Well, the truth is…" 

"They're in love," Jin Zixuan hisses. "I told you it wouldn't work, mother."

Nie Huaisang looks at his friend in surprise, but Jin Zixuan refuses to look at him. More than ever, he seems ready to cry. Madam Jin, for her part, isn't impressed by this new information. 

"Love is nice and well," she says, "but there are other things to consider. Your family would certainly prefer this strong political alliance." 

"My brother and his uncle have already given their blessing," Nie Huaisang admits. "It's not a bad match either, politically speaking." 

"But you won't have children," Madam Jin points out.

"There is a precedent for this," Lan Xichen coldly says. "Although Gusu Lan favours fidelity to one's spouse, it can be allowed to take a concubine in specific cases, such as the impossibility of having children."

"Then why not take my son as your second spouse? Or as the first one even, and have each other's company on the side? Zixuan will allow it."

Both Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen stare at Madam Jin, shocked that she would say such a thing. Her stance on her husband's affairs is well known, and she is merciless toward adulterous couples. Nie Huaisang wants to ask her why she doesn't ask for her husband's help if she's so desperate to protect her son against threats to his virtue.

He keeps that question to himself, because the answer occurs to him, and he doesn't like it. 

It is well known that Jin Guangshan is an alpha of great sexual appetite even in a normal state. It is rumoured, also, that he becomes terrifying when in rut, willing to take any omega or woman who crosses his path, willing or not. People say he might have fathered Jin Zixun with his own cousin, though since the poor omega was recently married, Jin Guangshan never had to recognise the child. 

Jinlin Tai is not a good place to raise an omega these days, as Jin Zixuan knows. He told Nie Huaisang as much, back when they were studying in Gusu. 

And perhaps there’s more alpha in Nie Huaisang than he realised, because the idea of Jin Zixuan being in such danger, in the place where he should be safest, fills him with a rage like nothing he’s rarely felt before. The only thing that can compare is the burning wrath that overcame him when he first heard that the Cloud Recesses had been burned, that Lan Xichen was missing. If he could, Nie Huaisang would grab Jin Zixuan this instant and fly with him to QInghe, were nobody will care that he’s an omega, where he’ll live free of fear because the rules of Qinghe Nie are very clear on how to deal with a rapist, regardless of sex, gender, and rank. It is tempting to accept Madam Jin’s demand, just to protect her son, except…

Except Lan Xichen is sitting right next to Nie Huaisang, and while his face is showing nothing, the smell of his anger is getting stronger with each passing moment. If the Lan rarely have a second spouse, let alone concubines of any sorts, Lan Xichen once explained, it is because their cultivation method tends to make them more possessive toward their cultivation partner. That’s the reason they are so careful in choosing such a partner, Lan Xichen confided when they started talking about getting married.

At that time, Nie Huaisang had easily promised that he would remain faithful no matter what, happy to finally have the affection of his favourite person in the world, happy to know that his love and patience would be rewarded, confident that there is nobody else in the world he could ever want.

Now though, he isn’t so sure what to do anymore. Marrying Lan Xichen is all he’s wanted for years and years, the culmination of a carefully crafted plan to ensure both of their happiness. But to abandon Jin Zixuan to his fate would be a crime, something against which his very soul rebels.

Between his dearest friend and the love of his life, Nie Huaisang has to choose, and risk losing someone either way. 

[alibee-art]

*from Pongnosis’ ‘The Devil and The Deep Blue Sea’ verse*

“Your team were on an executive protection course.” Yassen told him. “Should they prove to have suitable potential, they will be sent off on further courses.”

For a second, Alex thought Yassen had decided on them as his permanent security team. Hadn’t he already had his sights set on Danube for the job? Then Alex realised just what was going on. Security team, yes. But not for Yassen.

Alex turned around to look at Sagitta. Marcus, Adams, Shale and Jarek all regarded Alex with smirks that they made no effort to hide, whilst Mace alone decided to be more politely smug. “I think you guys are great at your job—but Yassen,” Alex faced his mentor once more, “I’m not a little kid. I don’t need babysitters,” he objected, just a little disgruntled. He liked Sagitta, but he did not need an entire security team reporting back to Yassen on his behaviour.

Yassen looked at Alex long and hard, then started talking, as if reading from a file: “The first time you visited the MI6 bank, you were curious about your uncle’s job. The door to your uncle’s office was locked, so you climbed out of a window, several storeys above the ground, jumped out onto a flagpole and scaled the building to get to the open window of Ian Rider’s office. A man was dealing drugs at your school, so you followed him to a boat which you boarded and discovered was a drug lab. You hijacked a crane, picked up the boat, and dropped it on a conference building hosting a drugs awareness police campaign. It was sheer luck that no one was injured apart from the two drug dealers on said boat.” At this point Alex tried to interrupt, and failed, when Yassen raised his hand for silence. He continued, “On your mission with the CIA, one of the agents you were working with had a meeting on a boat with a businessman they were planning on bringing in. When that agent didn’t return from the meeting and the boat began to leave the docks, you stole a skateboard, rode it up the jetty, and propelled yourself over the water and into the side of the boat. When you boarded the boat and saw that the salesman was planning to kill the agent, you, logically, decided to set the boat on fire. A sniper targeted you at school and your friend was shot in the arm. You followed the sniper on your bike as he drove across London, and spied on the man when he met up with someone. You saw them enter a helicopter, you made your way to the top of a tower building, took a fire extinguisher from the wall, and when they were in the air you used a tv aerial to slingshot the fire extinguisher into the helicopter, causing it to crash in the Thames. Do you need me to continue Alex? Because we both know I could. Perhaps for hours.” 

Alex opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could say anything- “Alex, if you’re about to use the ‘I was fourteen’ excuse then you should remember that you were, in fact,  fifteen, when you decided it would be a good idea to throw a fire extinguisher at an airborne helicopter piloted by armed men.” Alex reluctantly closed his mouth again. “And don’t even try the ‘I’m more mature now,’ because we both know that you are now, as you always were, just as reckless as ever.” He paused. “If I’m wrong, then you don’t need Sagitta to babysit you, as you so kindly put it.” 

Evidently, Yassen was finished. Sagitta looked like they couldn’t quite believe it; they were also all trying, and failing, to contain their delight at this telling of events. 

Alex felt overwhelmingly insulted. But that wasn’t going to stop him. “You are wrong Yassen. That’s not true. At all. Not really. I did not scale the building. His office was right next door, the window was right there. And when I found out the boat was a drug lab I was going to call the police, but I didn’t have my phone. I saw the crane, and … thought the police might appreciate the help. I was going to drop the boat by the station for them. But the construction workers cut the power, apparently it’s illegal to play with someone else’s crane. And the agent’s partner had no idea what to do when he disappeared on that yacht, so I improvised. The agent’s cover was blown. The Salesman was going to shoot him and dump his body in the sea. I did not set the whole boat on fire, just some of it, as a distraction! And it worked! When it exploded a few seconds later that was nothing to do with me. An assassin had planted a bomb, it just happened to detonate after I got the agent off the boat and before they could pick us off in the water. The fire extinguisher at the helicopter thing … is true but anyone would have done the same… or something. Someone shot my friend, they targeted me at school. A kid could have been killed. I know what it sounds like but you don’t understand the situation. There was no time to call the police…”

Sagitta really were having the time of their lives. Alex gave up. He had one question left. “Why- no, how do you know everything?”

Yassen features switched from annoyed to amused quickly. “SCORPIA possesses MI6’s file on you, and they had managed to record almost every dangerous thing you have ever done. Evidently, a long list.”

[yamithediaperdork]

Being a role model SUCKS (Inuyasha)

Spending time in the future was usually fun and a break from the stress that the feudal era gave out but the bucketful. Usually but not this visit. Inuyasha should of known something was up when Kagome A) kept talking about how upset and babyish Souta felt needing bedtime diapers as of late (and some day time pull ups, there had been little leaks) but also B) was giving Inuyasha all the instant ramen noodles he could handle and more.

Sadly, nothing quite clicked till they had arrived and then he'd been cornered not only by Kagome, but her mother as well while Souta was playing out behind the house.. and from there everything had gone downhill.

After a long talk (Well the women had talked, Inuyasha had argued but they seemed to ignore any points he made) Inuyasha found himself making a deal that he would give Souta the confidence boost he needed by having someone bigger then him be more BABYISH then him.. and in return Inuyasha got whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it next time he visited.

"And let me tell you right here and now, My list of demands are gonna be HUGE!" Inuyasha growled.

Kagome however just smiled and patted his head like he was already just a huffy baby and had lead him off to get dressed for the part.

Souta huffed as he kicked the soccer ball at the goal post, catching it and kicking it back over and over. It just wasn't fair that his bladder was betraying him like this when he was -9- years old! without a doubt in his mind, he was the biggest diaper baby in the whole town, heck maybe even the whole freaking country!

That thought was interrupted as he heard a LOUD crinkling noise and turned to see what it was.. and his ball hit his shin as his jaw almost hit the ground.

Waddling out behind behind Kagome dressed in a red onesie that did NOTHING to hide the thick, massive diaper(s) he was wearing and a pair of sandal's was Inuyasha!

The Half demon was beet red and seemed to be tugging on Kagome's arm, making it clear he'd rather go back inside even as he looked this way and that until, heh, she stopped and gave him a swat on his padded backside and shook a finger at him, talking clearly.

"No Inuyasha, you've been hiding inside for 2 weeks now, you need some fresh air and that's why we're in the future." She scolded.

"But..but.." Inuyasha whined.

"It's ok Inuyasha, I'm sure Souta won't tease you just because you can't control yourself right now." Kagome said in a motherly tone, then turned back to Souta. "Isn't that right Little guy?"

"heh..hehehehe yeah no, I won't at all Little yasha!" Souta said, a big silly grin breaking out on his face now."What even happened though?" he asked, coming over to the pair.

Kagome let go of Inuyasha's hand though gave him a look and the huffing diapered half demon plopped his butt onto the soft dirt of the back yard.

"Oh, we got attacked by a crazy priest who figured the only way to redeem demons was to teach them humility." Kagome started, a well practiced lie. "Basically Poor little Inuyasha, heh, or yasha as you called him..I like that! Anyways, he lost a lot of power and well control of his tinkles and uh-oh's for 3 weeks.Not to mention he's become a lot more..childish as you might of noticed." As Kagome said that with her back to the half demon Inuyasha stuck his tongue out at her and Souta covered his mouth to keep from giggling. Kagome turned to see what was so funny but Inuyasha had stopped JUST in time and was looking away, trying and failing to whistle. "...Anyways..I've been trying to deal with it in the past but frankly he's been stinking up his cabin and I'm sick of washing his diapers. figured why not let him spend the last week of it here and enjoy the freedom to play outside AND the wonders of disposable diapers." she finished.

"oh well, shucks , Little yasha could of came here sooner! I would of helped look after him!" Souta said, swelling with big boy pride since heck he was just in a nice and slim pull-up AND he didn't stink up his diapers! "If you wanna take a little break I'll even watch him for you right now." Souta added.

"Will you? that'd be great!" Kagome gushed and ruffled his hair. "Oh, one thing, with Inuyasha starting to get his control back, you'll have to keep asking him every so often if he need to potty or needs a diaper change. about once a hour. I'd worry more on the diaper change though myself."

the fact that Souta was suppose to be doing a potty check himself once a hour flew right over his head and the little 9 year old nodded and gave a thumbs up.

"Don't worry sis, I got this!"

Inuyasha was mentally adding heaps on his list of demands as his new nick name caught on and Kagome went out of her way to make him seem even more helpless.

with his 'darling' girlfriend retreating inside, Souta came over to him and smiled, then bent down and sniffed, confusing Inuyasha for a second.

"Hmm, you SMELL clean for the moment at least." Souta said and then patted Inuyasha's head. "Good boy!"

If he made it thought the week without having to kill someone Inuyasha wanted all the good damn treats.. but knowing the role he was SUPPOSE to play he gave a silly grin (And the heat pats kinda sorta maybe felt nice too.)

"Well little yasha, what do you wanna do? I was playing some soccer but if your muscle control and stuff is all messed up I don't think that's a good idea. sides you likely can't move too fast in your diapies." Souta said.

'So nice but still being a jerk..it must run in the fucking family.' Inuyasha thought then put a thoughtful look on his face. "Ummm we could play hide n seek!" Inuyasha offered up, putting a doopy childish twinge to his voice.

"ok, You hide and I'll seek. I'll give you to the count of 20." Souta said and went to cover his eyes when Inuyasha tugged at his shorts. "Hmm? what's wrong?"

"How many is 20?" Inuyasha asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, not having to force a blush as the pure humiliation of this all was taking care of it for him.

A big grin broke out on Souta's face and he bent down and took Inuyasha's hands in his.

"20 is this many.. and then" and Souta let go of Inuyasha's hands and tapped a finger on the exposed toes since Inuyasha had gone sockless in the sandals. "and this many. Can you keep track of that?"

"Ummm I think so!" Inuyasha said and nodded his head, having to admit that was all sorts of cute.

"Ok then, when I hit 20 you'll hear me say, ready or not, here I come anyways in case you lose count." Souta said and with a last head pat, he stood up and closed his eyes, starting to count.

Of course Inuyasha could of scaled a tree or taken to the roof top even with the bulky diapers he had on, he decided to play fair and also, knew it would ruin the whole plan and he hadn't of put up with it THIS far just to fuck it up now.

He needed what would seem like a good hiding spot to a toddler but clearly wouldn't work for him and now up on his feet he scanned the yard.

"One...two...three...four.."

Jesus, this wasn't like a life or death battle but for Inuyasha he found himself frozen on the spot, trying to figure out what would work, his natural instinct to win was messing up his need to lose!

"Five...six..seven.."

ok this was just getting stupid! he fought the urge to face palm and then spotted a narrow opening under the steps to the back porch, it would hide him from Souta's direct line of sight but would of gotten him caught as soon as the little guy came close.

"Eight...nine...ten, That's half the count yasha!" Souta called.

'heh, he really is a fair sport.' Inuyasha thought, then as stealthy as he could (read, not at all) waddled his way over to his chosen hiding spot even as his tummy started to feel a little bit weird.

'Must be that glass of icky juice they insisted I drink before coming out so I don't get dehydrated.' Inuyasha thought, crinkling loudly and having to speed up.

"Fourteen...fifteen...sixteen..." Souta called out, a big goofy grin on his face.

Waddling with all the speed he muster and keep up the lie, Inuyasha drove to get into the hole.. and found out that while he had been right he could of squeezed in there normally.. he hadn't taken into account the triple diapers. His upper half was in, but his padd butt and legs stuck out and he knew if he tried to force himself in,he'd end up losing them.

'fuck my life..'

"seventeen, eighteen..nineteen...twenty! Ready or not here I ..pffft.. come..heh. Did you get stuck little yasha?"

Inuyasha had been about to push himself back out but with Souta's suggestion, figured that worked and started to give out a sheepish yes, but his tummy cramped and it came out much more panicked.

"Yeah! Uh.. Please help me git out!" he said, one hand keeping him from going into the dead leaves and the like under the step but the other was on his tummy, and he kicked his legs a little more to try and work out the cramp.

"hey, it's ok! don't worry! I'm coming over, though you have to stop kicking your legs. I'm gonna grab you at the waist and pull you back, so watch your head!" Souta called, and Inuyasha could hear him running over.

"O-Ok." The half demon whimpered, the cramps were getting worst and he semi pushed back a little giving Souta a better place to grip though he didn't take into account with the building cramps he might not want someone wrenching on his midsection.

'oh god, this feels like that time I ate those clam's that had gone bad right before I..I..Oh those fucking bitches!' Inuyasha thought, cluing in to why the ladies of the house had grinned so big when Inuyasha had downed his drink to get the icky tasting thing over and done with.

he had a brief second to think about just calling this off, he'd get himself out and whine to Souta that his tummy hurt and try and shit himself somewhere private, but by then it was far, far too late.

Souta's little arms and hands were trying to pull him out and the extra force on his tummy tum meant that while he did get free, pushing himself back to make it look like it was all Souta, he banged his head on the step knocking him loopy for a split second and also started to filled his diapers.

As he loudly farted and giggled, he wore a blissful stupid derp face.

Souta was shocked at just how strong he was as he freed the poor trapped little guy, though it was soon replaced with amusement and disgust as Inuyasha started to let out massive wet fart and then more then that, a stupid look on his face.

"Uhhh yasha, are you going boom boom?" Souta asked, holding his nose. it was rhetorical question at this point as the diaper was starting to swell, so Souta didn't figure he was gonna need to do a sniff check.

"Hehehe Ya! Going PBBBBBBTTTT!" Inuyasha giggled and stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry.

"heh, you surrrre are buddy. but it's ok. You uh.. stay here and finish up and I'll go get Kagome ok?" He said/asked, coming over and patting Inuyasha's head.

"OOOOOOTAYYYY!" the diaper pooping derp coo'ed.

"heh..wish Kagome would of worked me you went all derp when you unload. kinda cute." Souta giggled, then dashed up the step's to stick his head in the back door.

"Kagome! You need to come and get your boyfriend, he's pooping himself silly, Literally!" Souta called.

Yeah, wearing pull-ups sucked, but as Souta pulled his head back out of the back door and looked down at Inuyasha, at least he was a stinky diaper derp.

The end..for now

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Undertow (IV)

CH IV: Market Moments

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Listen to the audio version here!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 

Shawn felt slight guilt for letting the fib glide so smoothly off of his tongue. He and every other native to the town knew the market stands would have a slim chance of selling cheeseballs. Shawn knew not only because he works there, but also because he found the clear tub of the snack at an actual grocery store.

But the fib was worth it in his eyes. It resulted in Y/N running amuck in a quest for the orange snack, asking any patron she ran into where she could find some. Shawn just kept chuckling at her from his designated stand, apron tied around his waist. Anytime Brian noticed his employee’s lack of concentration during the beginning of the shift he would remind him in a stern tone to “keep your eyes on the bananas, not the girl.” And any bystander would have thought that comment triggered Shawn’s immediate tensing muscles and nostrils, flaring like a bull.

His employer knew, though, comments like those never put Shawn on edge like that. Brian’s eyes followed the young man’s gaze to see the same Y/N Shawn had introduced him to earlier that day. It was the stranger chatting her up, with his shoulder against one of the wooden beams nearby, that caught his attention. Based on the fuming reaction of the one beside him, the man piqued Shawn’s interest just as much. His sandy blonde hair and all-too-tight shirt made Shawn think to himself, why not just tattoo try-hard on your forehead?

“Jealous much?” Brian mumbles beside Shawn’s ear, resulting in a surprised yelp from the proximity. Though his emotions were undeniable, he refused them anyway.

“M’not.” Crossing his arms over his torso, Brian immediately patted one of his biceps in an attempt to bring them down.

“Don’t look so angry. Customers will think you’re unapproachable,” he hisses. Shawn obeys for the sake of his paycheck but refrains from straying his eyes from the two for long. Any customer who wanted assistance purchasing an item or had a question they demanded Shawn answer, the boy would only spare eye contact with them for fifty percent of the conversation.

“It’s been fifteen minutes. What could he possibly be talking about with her?”

Brian hums. “People talk about lots of things. Who knows, maybe they’re finding they have lots in common.” Shawn only scoffs at this.

“Please,” she’s a walking mermaid talking to a mooching lifeguard, Shawn thinks, “they have nothing in common.”

“Okay, how long can you hold your breath for?” Wesley’s lips form a devious smirk as the question leaves them. Y/N’s lips can only part, losing all acts of shaping anything near an answer. Her mind suffices a simple “just a while” seconds later, hoping it wasn’t too vague to beckon more questions. Lucky for her, it seems Wesley has a knack for caring more about the response to his own questions rather than hers. This was nothing new to Y/N, who did in fact, grow up with her father as a parent.

“My record is six minutes and fourteen seconds. It’s on my bucket list to beat the world record: twenty-two minutes and twenty-two seconds. I know it’s ambitious, but…” frankly, Y/N is growing bored of the conversation. As guilty as it sounds, she saw no point in speaking to Wesley when she would vanish from his world in a few days and head off to...somewhere else.

“Hey, let me ask you something,” she breaks off Wesley’s incessant chatting with a small smile and does not wait for his go-ahead to continue. “If you could go live anywhere on Earth, where would it be?” Wesley’s lips form a small ring as a strange, high-pitched tone leaves them. Y/N stands with wide-eyes and is too afraid to ask what that was or where it came from, deciding to stay silent.

“Does it have to be real, or can it be mythical?”

“I mean…preferably real, but--”

“Because my father always told me these stories when I was younger about this place on Earth. He claimed society was so different down there compared to the one on land, that he called it a world in our world.”

“D-down there?” Y/N responds in a meek voice, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah...Atlantis. You’ve heard the stories too, I’m assuming.”

“I mean...I’ve only seen it in that movie about the fish girl.”

“The mermaid,” he corrects.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Well, my dad described it differently. He said that their kingdom was built and crafted from a sunken city. Even after seeing it demolished and crumbled, the Atlanteans knew they could transform it into something incredible. And he went on about all these abilities they have, like how their eyes adjust naturally to the darkness of the water, how they have this innate connection to marine life and can communicate with any sea animal that crosses their path; they don’t even need to hold their breaths underwater!”

“Sounds like your father was a great storyteller…” Y/N chuckles nervously, eyes darting to the passing bystanders who continue giving Wesley concerning looks. Her blood was quickly running cold in fear of finding somebody with similar, piercing eyes Wesley’s father probably mentioned too.

“That’s the thing. My father might have been good at telling stories, but he is a horrible liar. I remember the fourth time asking him how Santa Claus could get into our house with no chimney and a locked door he could not come up with an answer and told me it was a myth. The same thing happened when I asked why we had to buy eggs when the Easter Bunny got millions for free. And when I asked how the Tooth Fairy had access to all the printing presses to international currencies without being arrested, he got upset with me...told me I was too smart for my own good.”

Y/N is slowly becoming baffled by the precarious names he is throwing out and decides to let him continue. Drawing any suspicion to herself due to confusion over well-known characters of the land-walkers is the last thing she needs.

“But, when it came to talking about Atlantis, he never seemed to run out of details. Any question I asked about it, he always seemed to have an answer for. I would ask more about it now because everything inside of me is telling me it’s a real place. But...I’m scared if I confront my dad about it…”

“He’ll tell you it’s fake.” Y/N pieces the end together for him. His lopsided smile slowly turns into that of a frown, earning a sympathetic gaze from Y/N. “Well, I don’t know how credible I am as a stranger, but…” She lifts a hand to rest on Wesley’s shoulder, “I think your father is right. You are too smart for your own good...and I think if such a place were to exist, there would be more evidence of it.” Wesley nods but soon pauses, becoming entranced by Y/N’s sincere gaze.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice demands.

“Huh? Oh, nothing you just,” he clears his throat, “you have really pretty eyes.”

The orbs he was transfixed on moments before widen at this compliment. All at once, her mind rewinds itself to replay this afternoon with Shawn; his curls tickling her neck, the chuckle in his throat vibrating against her and her ruining their “moment”, a word she has yet to find a clear definition on. She also replays Connor’s entrance and comments about Shawn looking near ready to lock lips with her or be her utter demise through suffocation. Either activity sounded both passionate and intimate in a way Y/N was unclear about wanting with Wesley.

“Oh,” she whispers, dropping her arm from his shoulder in a haste.

“I-I’m sorry, that was awkward,” Wesley apologizes.

“No, no it’s alright. I just...I don’t want you to choke me,” she blurts, earning a few puzzled stares from those around them.

“What?”

“Or kiss me. Or...I don’t know, whatever happens in these moments.”

“Moments?” One of Wesley’s brows arch.

“Yes, a moment. Was that a moment? Because I think I just had my first one today and I’m not sure how--”

“Hey, Y/N, breathe.” He reaches both hands out to take her by the shoulders, quickly demonstrating a deep inhale and long exhale. She follows, mimicking his timed breaths down to the second. “It doesn’t have to be a moment if you don’t want it to be.” She nods, slowing her quick breaths and throwing a glance over her shoulder subconsciously for a quick peruse at Shawn’s figure behind the wooden stand. She smiles to herself, seeing his concentrating frame bend and twist meticulously to stack the bunches of bananas to perfection.

“Was it with Shawn?” Wesley asks. Y/N looks back toward him, pulling her brows together.

“Was…”

“Your moment. It was with Shawn, wasn’t it?”

“I..uh…” Her cheeks begin glowing red upon being caught.

“Hey, I’m not going to be upset.” He shakes his head, blonde streaks falling against his eyelashes. “Mendes and I might be tough on the water, but…” He takes his hands off of her shoulders, “I could never hate the dude enough to take his girl.” Y/N spares Wesley a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” She mumbles, preparing to pivot and return to Shawn’s stand.

“Oh, wait, Y/N--” the girl’s head turns back, humming.

“Where would you go, if you had the chance?” His question makes her eyes flicker down in thought, a pondering silence filling the air around the two.

“I’m not sure, actually. I don’t know if there is a place that could live up to this…” Through her answer, Wesley’s eyes met Shawn’s above her shoulder. Realizing he’d been caught, Shawn turned his body away, the feeling of dejection consuming his insides by the sight of his savior and worst enemy conversing.

“Well, just know a lot of people would miss you here if you left. More than just me,” he says, pressing a palm against his chest. Y/N looks behind her once more, only to be met with Shawn’s back.

“He would especially miss you.”

Another fond smile crawls onto her lips as she thanks Wesley again. When she turns to retreat to Shawn and Brian, the sinking feeling Wesley was awaiting inside of him felt more like a hot air balloon running off of helium than it did a whale with an anchor. As he begins walking in the opposite direction, sparing cursory glances at some of the products or swim trunks he walks past, his phone begins blaring its ringtone. He is stunned to pull it out and to be met with a pixelated version of his father and the name “DAD” overtaking the screen. Did his father finally keep his promise?

“Dad, hey!” The young man greets with exuberance.

“Hey, son. Finally got some free time…” Ripley announces at a regular volume. Hidden in between a few displays, he peers at Wesley slowly drifting from the curious girl, who was now speaking to an associate and pointing to the yellow fruits between them. “Tell me, how is it going? Did you win that surfing contest?”

“Yeah, but it kind of sucked to win now that I think about it. One of the other guys got really hurt.”

“Eh, I’m sure he’ll be fine. That’s what a rookie gets for going up against my son!” he barks a laugh. “I bet that trophy won you a couple of girls’ attention, huh?” Wesley gulps.

“I mean...not really--”

“Don’t lie to me, son. I can hear how lovesick you are. What’s her name?”

“Are you almost done yet?” Y/N groaned after Shawn finished up with a customer. She was sitting in a chair Shawn found under their table, picking at her nails in hopes that something interesting would happen.

“We’ve got another hour before we close up but then we have to put everything away so it’ll probably be an hour and 45 minutes before we can leave.” He shot her a smile as she dramatically slumped in the chair.

“They didn’t even have cheeseballs! I wasted half my day asking people if they had cheeseballs and they looked at me like I was insane.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help that she wanted the orange delicacy and in her opinion, these people were insane for not having it. “Just shut up and do your work so we can get out of here faster.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“I know what I want. Can you blame me?”

Shawn turned his back to her, opting to ignore her complaints instead of feed the fire.

“So you’re ignoring me now? Rude.”

He tried his best to keep the laugh in.

“That’s fine. I’ll find someone else to talk to.” She stood up and brushed off her pants, purposely bumping Shawn in the shoulder as she walked past. He reached out to grab her arms before she could get too far, forcing her to stop and turn around to look at him. “What, scared I’m going to find someone else to buy me cheeseballs?”

“Just stay safe.” There had been something nagging at his gut since he saw her with Wesley earlier and he was wary to let her out of his sight since then.

“Okay?” She gave him a funny look. “I’ll stay safe, no need to worry. Trust me, I know how to take care of myself.” It didn’t make Shawn feel much better but he let go of her anyways.

She walked off, only looking back once to shoot him a wink. He could only shake his head as he went back to work, wondering how it had been only one day and he was already infatuated with this girl.

Y/N walked around from table to table, actually taking the time to look at the contents this time. She didn’t have any money, as she found out earlier that day, but she still enjoyed looking at what each stand had to offer.

She looked around for a while before one stand in particular caught her eye. It was pushed back in a darker corner of the marketplace that people would probably miss if they weren’t paying attention.

She approached the table slowly, making sure to not startle the person running it, who seemed to be asleep in their chair. The table was decorated in an array of beachy looking stones and jewelry.

The person woke in her presence, sitting up and pushing their sunglasses up on their nose. “Why hello there.”

Y/N smiled at them, suddenly offset by their demeanor. She kept her gaze on the trinkets on the table, running her fingers over the symbols imprinted in them. Some posed a striking resemblance to the things she could find in her jewelry back home. Or, what used to be home.

“See something you like?”

“Yeah, they look a lot like-” She stopped herself, realizing that she almost revealed her identity.

“Like what?” They leaned forward, urging her to go on.

“Just, uh, something I saw in the store the other day.”

“You know,” They leaned back, crossing their arms over their chest. “Some say these came from Atlantis. Straight from the room of the princess.”

“Oh really?” She forced a laugh, retracting her hand to her chest. “Won’t the princess be upset that her things were taken?”

“She lives there no more. Ran away from an arranged marriage and was never found. I’m sure she cares very little about what happens to her old possessions.”

“That makes sense.” Her voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear herself.

“Please, take whatever you’d like. I’ll give it to you, half price.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I can’t.” She looked back to Shawn on the other side of the market, seeing him busy bagging some fruit for a customer.

“Are you sure? Such a beautiful girl deserves beautiful jewelry. Perhaps that boy you’ve been sitting with would want to get you a gift?”

“I really should get going.” Y/N nervously scratched her upper arm. “Thank you though.”

“Always! Come back any time.” They gave her a sly smile and she took a few steps back. “Have a great day.”

“Uh, you too.” She gave a polite smile and nod, turning around and hastily making her way back to Shawn.

The vendor pulled their sunglasses down from their eyes, revealing a pair of piercing green eyes. They pulled out a phone from their back pocket and unlocked it, clicking on the name Ripley in their contacts and bringing the phone to their ear.

Someone picked up at the last second, a gruff “what?” to greet the caller.

“It’s Merlin,” the vendor spoke. “I’ve got eyes on the subjects.”

Shawn’s post-work exhaustion and shopping trip from earlier in the day made heaviness caress his eyelids without complaint. Y/N hoped it would be the same for her, but she felt there was a kickdrum where her heart usually lied and the incessant wriggling of her toes beneath the bedsheets was impossible to control. This night in particular was when the girl felt scared to let sleep wash over her like a high-tide. Various scenarios of her waking up tomorrow without Shawn beside her or not in his bed played in her mind on an unrelenting loop.

The lime green digits on Shawn’s nightstand read 2:23 when the girl surrendered to the endeavor of catching shut-eye and opted for shuffling from beneath the covers and waddling to the kitchen. Despite seeing Shawn lock it earlier that night, she inspects the front door anyway. She does the same with the windows, even going as far as to flip the lock back and forth to build the small sense of security she felt. Even then paranoia still cloaked her mind and hypnotized her to grab the near-empty bin of cheeseballs from the kitchen cabinet and situate herself into a sitting position on the kitchen island, eyes pointed directly at the meager shard between the curtains of the kitchen window.

Slowly, the girl grew disoriented from the lack of sleep and stress harboring her for the last few days. The vision her distressed subconscious conjured is one far more macabre than she could have manifested while awake. Not only did they find her, but they kidnapped Shawn alongside her and drug him down to the depths of the water with no mercy. The scream he elicited when he no longer carried any valuable oxygen was muffled and distraught. Bubbles blurred his face, which, in turn, made tears build beneath Y/N’s eyelids. When she witnessed the facade of him go limp in the guard’s merciless hold and begin sinking, the whimpering pleas for him to wake up and escape quickly morphed to crackling screams.

When she heard his voice break through clear to her, the lids shielding her vision flung open. Immediately, her eyes stung from the contact of the cold air to her hot tears as she observed Shawn and Connor’s perturbed expressions. Glancing down, she found her arms stiff and cradling the bucket of cheeseballs to her chest.

“Uh…” she sits herself up, mimicking the position she was in last night before trying a buoyant tone of voice. “Good morning!”

“Good morning...you alright?” Connor lifts an eyebrow in Y/N’s direction, while Shawn is still lost for words after stumbling into her body tucked inwards and crying out for him.

“I’m good! Just came down for a...late-night snack. I must’ve closed my eyes for a few minutes.” She assures, holding up the plastic bucket for their eyes to study.

“Seems like you were here a little longer than that.” At this comment, she twists her body around and gasps at the numbers on the stove. The numbers 7:04 stared back at her menacingly.

“Woah,” she breathes out, whipping her head back to face Shawn and Connor. “My bad.”

“Were you feeling okay last night?”

“Yes,” she squeaks defensively. “I just...had trouble getting comfortable is all.” Crossing her arms, she refuses to meet Connor’s questioning eyes and Shawn’s features, still locked in place. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Y/N excuses herself in a mumble before sliding off of the counter and scurrying through Shawn’s open bedroom door, shutting it behind her. When a second closing door sounded, Connor looked directly at Shawn’s profile.

“So, you’re not gonna tell her what you heard?” Shawn glanced down to his fingers, picking at his nails.

“Why should I?”

“I mean, if a girl I was into confessed her love for me in her sleep I wouldn’t be standing there keeping quiet.”

And Shawn’s initial reaction was quite the opposite. When Y/N murmured “I love you” followed by his name an undeniable smirk tugged the corner of his lips. The man wasn’t quite sure he felt smitten at the same level, but he could surely reach it. And he wanted to, but the only thing stopping Shawn from planting a kiss to her lips the moment her eyelids fluttered open happened to be the echo of her cautionary messages playing on a loop in his brain. Both knew their relationship already pushed boundaries that threatened their lives to those looking for Y/N and to draw any more attention to themselves would be a ludicrous choice.

Furthermore, Y/N has shown no signs of traveling these last few days. For Shawn to jeopardize this new affair by selfishly wanting more out of it would only result in her packing her bags and leaving. She even preached that she would only provide Shawn with a load of heavy burdens and trouble. He begs to differ, since the moment they crossed paths, his woes were as scant as raindrops. But even in this unacknowledged intimacy, Shawn understood he must reciprocate the blurred lines, throw out the words he can never say to her, realize that she could up and leave any day now.

This new friendship was one Shawn was riding like a bumpy wave. And each time he thinks he may be near the end he plummets back into the thought of her. Every being of Shawn wants to follow Y/N’s instruction and keep paddling to the next wave to sweep him up.

“It was just a dream, Con. It didn’t mean anything.”

Whether or not he had admitted to himself, though, he was already snagged beneath by her undertow. The depth she chooses to yank him down to could be the least of his worries. The only doubt suffocating him is the matter of her deciding to let him go.

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming out 2/19/21!

Join the taglist to see what happens next!

Taglist: @fallinallincurls​ @ilumxna​ @lonelyreputation​ @purely-imagines-and-fantasies​ @shawnmxndxs​ @learning-howto-be-myselfx3​ @sillyquirkymendessupporter​ @itsalwaysbeen305​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes​ @marissje​ @princessmia1705​ @rosetoronto​ @itrocksmysocks​ @organicpurplepants​

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[CS] 9. Team APCX

Cutting Strings

Characters: Aurora Glade, Penny Polendina, Ciel Soliel, Ashley Xanthic, Winter Schnee, May Marigold Word Count: 4k

Apex. The edge or outcrop of a vein. The highest point of interest, excitement; the climax. The highest point; peak; vertex. The pinnacle of an achievement. The predator surprasing all others, without equal.

Team APCX. Specialization: Search and Destroy.

Read on Ao3

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  Combat Performance at 78%  

The training today was a little different. Or At least it felt a little different. For one, Ciel and Aro was early. Second, May and Fiona was sparing Aro and Xanthic, instead of the usual one on one with their unofficial mentors.  

“Will you Happy fucking Huntresses stop giggling!?” Xanthic yelled. Winter and Penny briefly glanced at the doubles fight. Fiona only laughed harder, her Deep Pockets swallowed every hard-light knife Xanthic would create and throw. As an excessive display of skill Fiona even summoned the push knives, throwing it back and colliding with another aimed at her head. “Aaagh! Are you serious Thyme?!”  

Penny couldn’t help but to giggle behind her hand. May’s experience and history with Aro put the mechanic at a sever disadvantage. Fiona was already able to cloud Xanthic’s high cognitive functions with both verbal and nonverbal taunts. The pair was hopeless out matched on nearly all levels but awareness, thanks to their cybernetics, and Dust manipulation.  

“Aaagh!” Aro’s feet slammed the ground, the immediate area glowing bright with purple Dust. May and Fiona floated off a few feet before vanishing. Arrows lodged out of the ground floating several feet above her. Then it pulsed, arrows shooting down with so much weight it either snapped or logged deep into the metal tiles.  

They didn’t hear the sound of flesh and bones slamming onto the floor. Xanthic fired and threw knives into the Field. It disappeared and reappeared to hit the wall. Sometimes there would be a surprised gasp or a taunt, “Oh! That was close.” Fiona would sing. The geniuses was separated and had no intentions of regrouping. In fact… perhaps Xanthic was trying to distance herself from Aro?  

“Marigold!!” Aro roared, “I promise I won’t burn ya’ too bad, doll!” Penny’s processors nearly caught on fire as she tried to analyze the sound. It had a deep distorted rumble and an echo. Where did it come from? According to her databanks, feline Faunus could roar but Aurora Glade was a goat.  

Aro spun around, embers of smoke and fire slipping past her lips. Penny leaned in, but was held back by Winter. Focus completely engulfed Aro’s eyes. They glowed a bright blue, the pupils a devouring white. There was also a red glow on her face. From the Dust infused jewelry that pierced the bridge of her nose.  

May was suddenly behind her. She glanced at Winter then at Penny. Her grin grew larger. Hands reached for those golden cybernetic horns. She winked. Then pulled. Aro gasped, head jerked back and back crashing to the floor. A cloud of fire plumed out of her lips, harmless against May’s Aura. The Huntress laughed. She pinned Aro with a boot to the mechanic’s sternum. The bayonet and notched arrow of her crossbow pointed at Aro.  

"You lose, doll." May drawled back. With no signs of exhaustion.  

Aro took several deep breaths, embers fluttering from her lips. She eventually relaxed, hands held up in surrender. Focus fluttered off. The glow from the Dust jewelry faded but Aro’s face was still very rosy and red. Without her semblance, Aro didn’t trust the words on her tongue. Penny could see the mechanic work her jaw but it eventually slipped out, “I… disagree…”  

“Of course you would,” May grinned. She offered a hand and effortlessly pulled her up- “Duck!” Just to shove her back down.  

Across the room Xanthic and Fiona was still fighting. A hard-light arcing off a saber and soaring further into the training room. Penny gasped hands up and Aura bolstering. Instead she was swept off her feet and tackled to the ground, Winter pressing her body tight to the floor.  

The arc of hard-light energy was larger than anticipated, that or it was growing as it moved. The wind it dragged behind it nearly lifted Winter off her, but Penny wrapped her arms around the Specialist until it passed.  

Winter got to her feet, “Marrow! Ciel!”  

The arc of light was definitely growing. By now it was nearly a tidal wave or a wall.  

“Shit!” Marrow growled.  

“Slow!” Ciel’s Clockwork hit the hard-light attack. It nearly paused in the air, moving inch by inch instead of yards. Without movement it seemed to slowly fade and flicker out, as if a fire was burning through its oxygen. Ciel groaned, Clockwork collapsing just as the hard-light wave completely flickered out.  

“Sorry! Sorry about that!” Fiona yelled.  

Everyone grumbled and Winter stood. Her hand offered to Penny. She didn’t need the help but showed appreciation for the gesture with a smile. It was a little tricky to control how much weight Winter pulled. When they looked back at the duo Xanthic was a little dazed on the floor with Fiona sitting on her abdomen.  

During all the panic, the Aura buzzer went off. Xanthic was at five percent while Aro’s technically good enough to continue with her Aura at fifteen percent. Fiona and May helped their defeated opponents out of the training room.  

Winter cleared her throat. She was now a few paces away, sword pointed at Penny with her free hand behind her back. Penny frowned at it. She knew from pre-installed recordings and live observation that the second blade only came out when Winter was challenged. The Specialist had yet to wield the second blade at Penny.  

“Shall we continue? Or would you like to forfeit, Ms. Polendina?” Winter taunted. Her smirk wasn’t as guarded.  

"I’d prefer it if we continued, Opponent Winter," Penny said. Behind her Floating Array flourished all fourteen components.  

Every sparing match with Winter was frustrating and intense but it was the little things that made this different. Winter moved more like Aro, fluid and loose. Almost like water but still not completely free of the stiffness the military had beaten into her. She smiled, taunted, sneered and goateed Penny into several mistakes. The Specialist always commentating on the opening but never actually taking the chance to strike.  

Penny huffed, synthetic voice trying to restrain a noise of frustration but only vibrated in her chest. The elite graduates were toying with them. No matter what variable Penny adjusted, her calculations and assessments about Winter and her summons were wrong.  

She couldn’t calculate how many creatures Winter could summon. They ranged from a tiny flock of Nevermores to the current pack of towering Alpha Beowolves. They lunged straight forward. All five pierced straight with one sword each in its skull. Five more appearing above her. Penny was forced to doge backwards, her visual sensors barely catching a glimpse of white as Winter entered striking distance.  

Her processors were nearly overheating. Multiple swords and guns yet she could not find an opening to strike Winter directly. With simple gestures, summoning Glyphs appeared around Penny. Sometimes close enough that a claw would emerge first, a solid hit chipping away at her Aura levels.  

“Stop reacting and force me on the defensive!” Winter yelled.  

Penny paused and frowned at Winter. Whatever expression she had stunned the women and her Beowolves for a moment. Theoretically P.E.N.N.Y could take initiative but without any kind of input to create a solution or to even analysis a problem-  

“Penny? Penny!” Several voices yelled for her.  

Her vision went black for a moment. Under her eyelids Penny could see lines of code and a list of errors. For a moment Penny thought she overheated, forgetting to breath and exhale all the hot air her power unit and Aura generated. The errors did list some heating problem in her processors but the main source of the errors the logical contradiction.  

Penny took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Her head still felt hot, and the light seemed too much for her systems so she shut them again and waited a few moments. She did sit up, which was effortless, much to the relief of Winter.  

“What happen? You’re Aura level was fine then…” the Specialist paused. She didn’t mutter or mumble, but the soft tone was definitely close to it.  

“Cutie dot exe stopped working,” Aro blurted out. Penny frowned, squinting open her eyes to glare at the mechanic. She blushed, ears flickering around in embarrassment. Aro tried to hide behind Focus but that just caused her eyes to flicker. It reminded Penny of the little robotic goat she was still working on, how it processed knew information with blinking lights and tilting it head.  

“Please stop being adorable so I can stay made at your for that horrible comment,” Penny grumbled. That had the opposite effect. Aro scoffed, trying to rebuff the statement by crossing her arms and straightening out. The act wasn’t complete due to her red cheeks and nervous twitch of her ears. Thing she couldn’t hide without Focus.  

Winter and May sneered and chuckled. Winter handed Penny some water and she gulped it down. Her systems instantly improved, transferring the liquid to her cooling systems and lowering the temperatures in her head.  

Fiona and Xanthic didn’t pay them much attention. They were too busy watching the last bout. Marrow and Ciel were tied with both their Aura levels around 50 percent. The Ace Oprative looked nervous and surprised. During all these practices… they haven’t sceen Ciel fight.  

Ciel’s weapon of choice was Dust infused chakrams which would let out a powerful explosion on contact with about a minute charge between. Penny’s data was inconclusive. Penny was sure Clockwork was effecting the charging rates and force of the explosion as they rewind through the air to return to her hands.  

“Stay!” Marrow’s voice rang out. His semblance stopped one chakram in midair. He turned quickly throwing Fetch to counter the second. Too close. Marrow grunted as the explosion nearly threw him off his feet. He reach out as Fetch made its return to his hands-  

“Fast forward” Ciel yelled. Fetch’s speed suddenly increased to a near blur! Penny’s software correctly updated, predating Ciel the winner. Marrow gasped, taking a solid hit to his chest. With his concentration broken the first chakram collided with his back.  

Marrow’s aura level was finally below Ciel’s.  

One more hit-  

“Slow!” Clockwork hit Marrow. The chakram that was deflected by Fetch was in her hands, charging bright with red and yellow Dust. Marrow tried to turn, to face her or to dodge but his speed was nearly halved. He didn’t even see the circular blade collide into his back. Clockwork turned off, sending Marrow flying to the ground.  

The buzzer rang with Marrow’s Aura levels at 2 percent.  

“Congratulations!” Penny yelled to her teammate. May and Fiona cheered with her. Winter wouldn’t but there were still two more voices missing. Penny frowned and looked at her teammates. Both genius look put out and unhappy for APCX’s only victory.  

Xanthic let out an annoyed sigh. “Out of all of us… It was her that won against the graduates,” She grumbled, lightly glaring as Marrow and Ciel walked towards them.  

“Perseverance triumphs natural talent,” Winter said. Eyes paused on Aro who signed something at her, "And no effort." Her eyes shifted to Xanthic who did a universal insult gesture with her fist.  

Aro sighed, handing Ciel a water bottle. “Congrats…” Aro said. Ciel sneered before taking small sips between heavy breaths.  

“I’d like to think she had a good teacher!” Marrow mumbled. His arms were crossed and jaw jutted out in a pout.  

“You were brilliant,” May said patting his shoulder. The praise felt more like condolences even to Penny. Marrow only grumbled a little more. “But we got good news for APCX!”  

“Oh?” Penny asked tilting her head. It must have been really good if it kept slipping past Winter’s stoic professionalism.  

“We might be able to start Team APCX as second or even third years on the Accelerated Program.” Winter said.  

“How exactly?” Ciel asked.  

“A field test!” May said with a grin. She looked at Aro who was already smiling, “Seems like I finally dragged you on a mission.”  

“Only took five years,” Aro rolled her sea-green eyes. “When? My remaining customers are Atlas students so I might be able to hold it off.”  

“I’m free.” Ciel said with a shrug. There was a long expectant pause from everyone but Xanthic who nearly seemed amused. Ciel glared at the younger Spymaster, even elbowing her. Xanthic’s broken blue Aura flared cross her body. “You didn’t tell them?”  

“Ow! It’s public information!” The hacker said, “Not my fault if the military over looks shit.”  

Ciel sighed, rubbing her temples. “I graduated yesterday.”  

An awkward silence fell over the graduates. They looked immensely guilty though Penny failed to reason why. Ciel hadn’t requested any special accommodations, just a reasonable request not to be disturbed during class. Aro tapped her chin a little in confusion as well.  

“Congratulations? We don’t really have formal schooling in Menagrie.”  

“I graduated when I was 14.”  

“I think my education would be similar to homeschooling,” Penny finished.  

Ciel scowled at her teammates, “And I was the only one that won, so stop showing off.”  

Despite May’s reasoning, Ciel refused to celebrate and insisted on continuing to the field test. Upon hearing it was immediate, Xanthic tried persuading Ciel into a small celebration or even small lunch out. With a wicked smirk Ciel refused. Winter and May took some pity and took Team APCX around to buy clothes appropriate for combat outside of the protective walls and heating grid. Fiona and Marrow didn’t accompany them but left for other errands. Ciel didn’t look happy that Winter payed for it but relaxed a little seeing the Atlas Military logo on the credit card.  

Xanthic continued to stall, arguing with Aro and Winter about who’s transport to take. Xanthic’s was airship may be the fastest but it was also not equiped for combat. Winter’s was the most durable in the odd chance they ran into flying Grimm but not suited for sustained nights out. Aro was a non-military but due to business trips was equipped with defensive turrets and comfortable living space.  

"Tsunami has made it out of several fights with the White Fang, Bandits, and Grimm," Aro argued. “Besides we have two of the best huntresses in Atlas!” Penny tuned the elite’s arguing and antic for while now.  

Instead enjoying a calm conversation with May and Ciel.  

“Honestly I’m just lucky it was Marrow,” Ciel admitted softly. “He’s a rookie and underestimated me. I think Aro and Xan have it the hardest. You and Fiona was just playing mind games the entire time.”  

May huffed playfully, arms crossed over a her chest, “They deserve it!”  

“I still think you could have won if you didn’t feint,” Ciel said looking at Penny. Penny heated up, and played with her hands. She was confident in that assessment but so far the statistics were proving her wrong. “You and Winter don’t have years of history, she’s just better and smarter than Marrow.” Penny nodded but couldn’t particularly voice anything.  

“Winter right though,” May said. “You need to stop waiting for the first move.”  

“It’s difficult,” Penny protested weakly. If there was a pattern Penny could easily plan ahead but Winter had to many variables. And that was without adding the Glyphs.  

“You have good instincts,” May ruffled her hair. “List to 'em.” Penny grumbled and pouted.  

The arguing trio finally settled for Aro’s airship. The AI was advance enough auto-pilot a course and take off so even Aro could be present during the mission debrief. Though when Penny glanced over to her she wasn’t really paying attention. She frowned, elbowing the mechanic to focus.  

Their mission was a simple Search and Destroy. There was a few packs of Sabyrs and Nevermore wandering closer to Mantle and growing in numbers. Team APCX would be clearing them out.  

The first Sabyr pack was killed before they had a chance to leave the transport. While May was trying to convince the newly graduated Police Officer to jump out of an airship, hundreds of feet off ground and into a pack of Grimm, Xanthic had created a hard-light sniper canon. Practically a cannon or a railgun. Each shot was powerful enough too jerked the transport a little.  

One shot split into three and within a few minutes the pack of Sabyrs fell.  

By the end of it Penny’s audio system was on a horrible feedback loop. Her processors frying until she had to reset them. She could only imagine the physical pain everyone else must be in. With the exception of Deaf Aro who was laughing. She weakly seperated May and Xanthic, her head tucked into May’s shoulder as the Huntress made grabs for Xan’s neck.  

The hacker grin’s smug grin briefly disappeared and reappeared as she signed, expressions melding into shock that was still sarcastic without words. May tried shouting back but it was garbled and crackling to Penny’s ears. She restarted her audio systems again as May shoved Aro to the side, hands furiously signing insults and other comments. By the time Penny’s hearing was functioning, Winter had walked back into the main cabin.  

“Enough,” She sighed. Winter looked slightly in pain. Penny wasn’t sure if the cockpit would have amplified the gunfire or not. “Can you two please play along?” She asked Aro and Xanthic.  

“Fight to the best of your abilities but somehow limit yourself so we can conveniently judge you into arbitrary categories!” Xanthic said. Her lively sarcasm and faux cheerful tone making everyone chuckle or giggle. Even Winter.  

“I’m trying my best to appease both parties,” Winter explained rubbing her temples again.  

“Fine,” Xanthic drawled. “I’ll pretend to be a hopeless damsel.”  

The next pack of Sabyr wasn’t much of a challenge. The hardest part was getting Ciel out of the transport.  

“Just land near me!” Aro yelled up as she fell.  

Penny stood at the edge of the airship, grinning at Ciel’s unease expression. “Aro has masterful control over gravity Dust and your Aura should protect you from further damage.” She said before stepping off. Ciel could soften her landing with her Clockwork, though that would be better tested in a nonlethal scenario.  

Far below Aro’s cybernetic legs fired a powerful burst of fire. It cleared the area of Grimm, the Sabyr directly under her now faded into ash. Penny unfolded Floating Array from her pack. She charged it at her leisure, the cold of Solitas allowing for increased power without overheating. All fourteen guns fired at the ground, softening her landing until she angled them forward. Penny intercepted a Sabyr lunging for Aro’s back, two blades slicing it open with a flick of her wrist. Aro hummed. Or purred? Penny would probably need to have a hand on her chest to feel if it vibrated or not.  

“I’ll be sure to return the favor, doll.” Her glowing blue eyes winked at her. Above them, Ciel’s scream was increasing in volume while Xanthic’s laugh was much fainter. “Xan probably had to push her out… or May.”  

“Or Winter,” Penny mused beside her. Penny sent her blades out again, piercing two creeping Sabyrs and causing the rest to hesitate. Aro stomped on the ground, her metal legs humming loudly as a pulse of gravity Dust engulfed the area. Ciel’s fall slowed when she finally entered the gravity field. She took deep breath’s clutching her chest and flailing to get her feet under her.  

Penny helped the official officer land. Then the field shut off and Xanthic slammed deep into the snowy ground, “Ow…” Penny stared at her a little skeptical. It was still at a mildly unsafe height but snow is supposedly soft.  

“See! It wasn’t so bad.” Penny smiled at Ciel.  

“Yeah, no one of important social value got hurt,” Aro with a Xanthic-eque bored tone. Ciel sneered, it turned into chuckling when Aro lightly kicked the hacker. “Come on. The faster you quit dragging your feet the sooner we can go back to the stuffy kingdom and the nice warm smog and shitty walls.”  

“Ugh. Fine.” Xanthic huffed. The hacker finally got to her feet and brushed the snow off her new thick coat. “You’re paying for Ciel’s celebration dinner.”  

“We are not celebrating.”  

They naturally drifted into pairs of twos. Penny and Aro naturally dashed into the growing horde of Grimm. Penny was the only person able to keep up with Aro and had the close range abilities to defend them both. With hard-light blades being propelled at explosive force, the Sabyrs fell in one hit. Any that tried flanking was pierced, sliced, or shot down by Penny.  

Ciel and Xanthic almost seemed bored, taking care of the Grimm from a distance. Whenever Penny was jumped high in the air she could see an undisturbed radius of snow around the pair. Even without Xanthic’s ridiculously overpowered sniper rifle, Team APCX finished the pack faster than expected. Winter landed the airship looking a little flustered and frustrated. May laughed trying to rub her shoulders to calm the women down.  

“Maybe we should just drop you on a pack of Sphinx and Manticores,” Winter said under her breath.  

“Let’s start with the Nevermores,” May suggested.  

The Nevermores was much more challenging. Penny and Xanthic were the only ones with weapons able to reach them. The cold of Solitas made their hides thicker than the average Grimm. If one managed to through the thick layer of ice. Every time Penny would charge Floating Array or Xanthic would fire up Alter Ego, feathers tripled their size would sail at them, interrupting their focus and causing the ground to shake a little at the impact.  

“Rewind!” Ciel tried firing those feather back but only managed one hit. The bone of the feather pierced into its wing, crippling its altitude. It screeched loud, causing everyone but Aro to wince.  

The mechanic launched herself into the air. Several explosions pushing closer and closer until the injured Nevermore beat its good wing. The gust of air sent Aro flying back towards them but the gravity manipulator righted herself and skid to a stop.  

The second Nevermore cried out louder, it’s attacks growing more frantic. A hail of razer sharp and incredibly dense feathers was shot at them. Penny frowned. It had created a clear divide from Aro and her team. Penny tried closing the gap as much as possible. Then the uninjured Nevermore started it’s dive. The snow made it a little difficult, even with it melting against her heated body it was still up to her thighs.  

Aro’s passive gravity didn’t cause her to sink into the snow. She stood atop of it, lowering herself to a crouch. Aro flashed a few signs at Penny without glancing in her direction. Then she suddenly moved, jumping onto the talons.  

“Aro!” Penny fired Floating Array quickly closing the distance. Aurora held out her hand and just managed to pull Penny onto the Grimm’s feet before it took off into the air again. The metal women took a deep breath, venting all the heat her Aura was generating.  

“Sorry, I forgot you don’t know sign language,” Aro said with a guilty smile. They briefly glanced down. The injured Nevermore was grounded, the large feather that Ciel shot back at it made it impossible to fly but it’s ridiculous size made it hard to approach or even damage. “Plans?”  

Penny watched the Nevermore screeched, mouth wide open. “Insides are always soft and unarmored.”  

“And… red,” Aro said with a blanch. Red was commonly associated with blood. Was Fiona and Robyn’s story about her hemophobia accurate? Penny shelved the question for later.  

They made their way to the top of the Grimm. Aro simply ran up it’s curved body, the gravity core in her legs roaring over the hard winds and heavy wingbeats. Penny slowly pulled herself to the head with Floating Array and the near invisible strings.  

Once it noticed the two huntress-in-training, the Nevermore screeched and thrashed in the air. It had little to no effect on Aro. Holding onto a Grimm the size of a building was the easiest accomplishment Penny had in months. The mechanic continued up until it reached is jaw. She stomped one foot into the hinge of its jaw and looked at Penny.  

“Ready? This might blow me off!” She yelled and signed over the wind.  

“Combat Ready!” Penny yelled back.  

She heard the cartridge in Aro’s legs change. Then a loud explosion. Penny could even feel the heat from the shoulders of the Grimm. Once the bright flash had died Aro was nowhere to be seem and the mouth was hanging open. Penny winced, happy that Grimm were mysterious creatures void of proper biological functions. The blood would have been horrific. The Grimm screeched and thrashed much more. Instead of charging all fourteen guns of Floating Array she kept four embedded into the bone like-texture, keeping her grounded as the rest of the guns charged.  

This blast completely pierced the Nevermore. The sudden silence confused her audio sensors. It fell from the sky and Penny rode the disintegrating corpse down as long as possible. She regrouped with her team, easy to find with a cloud of steam rising from Aro’s heated augments. Ciel and Xanthic had easily finished off the downed Nevermore and seemed to be helping Aro cool off by burying her legs in the snow.  

Combat Performance at 95%

[written-rebellion]

Perfect Distractions

A/N: Hi there, I told you I wouldn’t abandon this little slice of fluff completely! Slow updates yes, but never forgotten <3 I also figured, after today’s episode (no spoilers of course!!), and the overall quarantine situation, you all probably need a bit of brightening up, and now with so much more free time, I’m happy to oblige! 

And because I don’t say it enough, thank you so much for reading, and putting up with these now sporadic little updates. Writing time is coming in either waves or drips, but I so so appreciate the encouragement, and the warm welcome the fandom always brings! As much as I haven’t forgotten this story, it’s always nice to know the fandom hasn’t forgotten me completely either haha ^_^”

Jamie’s being dramatic, Claire has too many thoughts, and as always, the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Ten: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eleven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twelve: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Thirteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Fourteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] Part Fifteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Sixteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seventeen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eighteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Nineteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Twenty: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twenty-One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twenty-Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Twenty-Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Part Twenty-Four: Burdens | Chapter 1

Thursdays, Jamie had decided, were the best.

Well, no, second only to the weekends perhaps but certainly high-ranking for sure. Thursdays he had only one class in the afternoon, and that afforded him more than ample time to snuggle into Claire in bed and see where the morning took them.

Not that they didn’t always end up in the same place – limbs and hearts entangled – but he wasn’t complaining.

Except for this Thursday, he realized as he blindly groped for Claire beside him and came up empty handed.

With a grunt, he begrudgingly floated up to full consciousness and sat up, blearily scanning the room to no avail. Squinting at the backlight of his phone – and the perfectly framed lock screen of a candid Claire adorably sleeping atop a textbook at the dining table – he frowned at the time.

7:15 a.m.?

7:15 was entirely unacceptable for lazy Thursday mornings with Claire.

He was about to call out her name when he caught the scent of something frying. Not burnt, he noted right away as he fished around the floor for his shorts and slipped them on. There was a faint sizzling noise coming from downstairs and, with no real sense of urgency but intent all the same, he half-consciously padded out of the room.

“Sassenach?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he followed her absent humming into the kitchen.

She hadn’t heard him, and he took a moment to lean against the doorframe and watch her. Her back was facing him as – he assumed by the smell and the wee apron tied haphazardly around her waist – she fried eggs on the stovetop, and maybe it was the sheer domesticity or his barely waking state, but he felt his heart clench at the sight. His need from earlier burning into something much deeper than base desire.

Within seconds and with very little thought, he crossed the room and pulled her tight against him, arms snaking around her waist with a soft rumble in his chest that ended on a chuckle as she gasped.

“Ye’re makin’ breakfast?” he mumbled, dropping his head into her neck like he could fall asleep right then and there.

“I was,” she said, wriggling her arms free in an attempt to get back at it. “Good morning to you too, love.” She placed a quick kiss on his crown, and he smiled, returning it against her neck.

“Why’re ye dressed?”

“Joe and I are touring campuses today and tomorrow, remember?”

“Och ayyye,” he drew out with a needlessly heavy sigh. “Ye’re leaving me.”

“You can tone down the dramatics, darling,” she laughed, and he didn’t need to look up at her to know she was rolling her eyes at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Her tone did little to assuage his dramatics. In fact, in his half-waking state he suddenly and brilliantly decided that he wasn’t being dramatic enough, as evidenced by him leaning more of his weight onto her like it might compel her to stay and take root in the kitchen tiles. Or better yet, their bed upstairs.

“Ye’re sure there isna anything I can do to convince ye to stay?”

“Mm, I do believe you tried your very best last night.”

He huffed, soberly. “I can do better, always do like the challenge.”

She made a noise equal parts grunting and giggling as she wriggled around in his arms to face him, poking him indignantly in the cheek.

“Go sit down. I’ll bring your breakfast over.”

He inhaled, slow and deep as he stared her down and she, as resolute as ever, stared right back.

He deflated—

“Fine.”

—then kissed her quickly before retreating to the stools on the other side of the kitchen island.

------

24 things, including train and bus schedules, meeting places, and pertinent questions to ask, completely blurred and dissipated as Jamie’s large arms enveloped her.

His clinginess was to be expected, she thought with a smile as she plated the eggs and turned the stove off. She had hoped the food would distract him first, but in a wager she happily lost, was proven wrong.

The plates had barely touched the island when she found herself swept up and seated astride his lap, a sleep-tousled but thoroughly smug face waiting for her before descending with purpose into her neck.

“You’re—mmph—supposed to be eating the eggs, Jamie!” She squirmed with little conviction, protests dotted with giggles.

“It’s on my to-do list,” he murmured as he nipped his way towards her collarbone.

She shivered as his teeth sunk into her, but tugged at his ear to stop him.

“If I have to spend the whole day hiding a hickey from my future professors and Joe – goddamn – Abernathy—” She held his face by both ears now. “—You will be in so much trouble.”

“Och, aye?” he said with a quirked eyebrow.

She sighed and conceded to kissing him back, because at least that kept his lips from her neck; the prospect of being in trouble with her had never proven to be an effective threat anyway.

“When are ye supposed to meet Abernathy?”

“Mm, an 20 minutes or so?”

Close as they were, she could feel both the corner of his mouth lift upwards and pleased Scottish-sounding noise rumble in his chest.

“Like I said, always do like the challen—”

They both froze at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Two pairs of eyebrows immediately furrowed.

“Is Joe meeting ye here?”

“No…”

Sliding off Jamie’s lap, Claire quickly straightened her outfit and headed to the front foyer, Jamie padding just behind her but far enough behind that he didn’t know who was at the door until he saw a small set of arms wrap around Claire’s waist, knocking her back a step.

“Fergus! W-what the hell are you doing here?” She pulled him from her, and looked over his head, half-expecting to see Jenny and Ian around the corner.

“How’d ye get here, lad?” Jamie said, thinking much the same thing.

“I do know how to take a bus,” the boy said proudly. “And I saw your address written down on a paper on the fridge.”

Claire and Jamie both blinked, gaping at him for just a moment before Claire recovered first.

“Well that doesn’t answer my question,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Don’t you have school?”

His smile faltered only slightly at that.

“Ah oui¸ but—But I do not need to go, it’s alright!”

Claire and Jamie shared a look but, before Jamie could take a stab at reasoning with him, Claire’s phone alarm chimed.

“Shit, I’ve got to go. I—”

Her eyes fell squarely on their new charge and paused. While he likely wouldn’t cause much trouble during the tours, there was the hotel rooms she and Joe booked. But she could potentially set up some pillows on a couch for him if she needed to—

Jamie ran a hand down her arm, as if divining her thoughts.

“It’s alright lass, I’ll take him to campus.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye.” He raised an eyebrow at Fergus, who’s bright-eyed smile remained relatively unfazed. “He may not want to go to school, but I have to.”

Now with much more than 24 different thoughts swirling around her head, Claire shrugged. It’d have to do.

“Well alright, call me if you need anything,” she said before grabbing her coat and the bag she had packed by the stairs.

“We’ll be fine, a nighean,” Jamie said, squeezing her hand. “I’d say dinna worry about us, but I ken ye’re going to anyway.”

“I’ll try not to, I guess.” His hand came up to cup her cheek and she leaned into it. “See you tomorrow.”

Keenly aware of one young boy’s eyes on them, Jamie kissed her forehead quickly. Not their typical goodbye, but Claire supposed Jamie’s early morning clinginess was a blessing after all.

Stepping out of his arms to rub Fergus’ mop of curls, she walked past them toward the front door.

“Behave yourself!”

“Are you talking to me, or M’sieur?” Fergus laughed.

“Both!”

Chapter 2 Coming Soon!

[smokeybrandreviews]

Smokey brand Reviews: True North

The Golden Compass sucks. i saw that wet fart when i was younger, on a whim, and was thoroughly disappointed. Sh*t didn’t make a lick of sense to me. That film was my first introduction to the His Dark Materials and it soured me on the entire franchise. Like most of the movie-going crowd because it flopped like a fat man into a public pool. The thing abut that movie is that it felt like another entry into the Narnia Chronicles, and abhor that franchise. I’ve hated them since i was forced to read them when i was in the third grade. They were terrible, and that was before i become aggressively areligious. Afterward? Bro. Suffice it to say, when the BBC adaption was announced, it was hard pass for me. And then my mom got HBOMax.

I was seeing a ton of ads for season two, a strong focus on Lyra and John Parry. Th more i saw of those Youtube ads, i don’t watch television anymore, the more i became intrigued. Eventually, i bit the bullet and did some research on he show, itself. Yo, i was SO glad i opted to give this thing a chance. The cast was amazing. the principal characters, all some of my favorite actors but, more than that, the plot was mad intriguing. It was so clever and unique and so far removed from Narnia wank, it could be considered anti-Narnia almost. How the f*ck did that movie get so much wrong? Suffice it to say, i gorged on that first season like a fat kid gorges chocolate cake. I finished it last night and these are my impressions.

The Outstanding

First and foremost, i absolutely have to praise Dafne Keen in this, man. She is Lyra Silvertongue, heroine and main character of the entire Dark Materials series. This success of this show rests on the shoulders of the then fourteen year old and she carries that sh*t like a champ. There is a wit and wisdom that Lyra carries which belies her age and Keen taps into that effortlessly. She played Laura Kinney in Logan a few years back, keeping pace with Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine, so i knew she was skilled in her craft but i never imagined she’s be able to carry such demanding fair, so early in her career. I’d say she was the best thing about this show but that’s not really true. The level of quality in this thing is just that profound.

Ruth Wilson plays Marisa Coulter, Lyra’s mother, and, holy sh*t, is she incredible in the roll. Look, i love Wilson, even when she is in less than quality productions like The Affair. That show was bogus. What wasn’t bogus was her stint as Alice Morgan on Luther. I absolutely fell in love with her on that show and Ms. Coulter gives me all of the Alice vibes, just far more cruel. If Alice was calculating and aloof, the Coulter is deceitfully cruel and i love every second of it. You can tell there is a sadistic streak, straight up wrath, just below the surface and Wilson captures that skin deep veneer in a gently terrifying manner.

James McAvoy comes through and delivers yet again with his detached and insidious Lord Asriel Belacqua. It’s always a pleasure seeing this man do his job and, admittedly, he’s not in this first season much but the time that he is, McAvoy dominates. This is a desperate, desperate, man who knows he is right and will do anything to accomplish his goal. This single-minded drive reminds me so much of Sosuke Aizen from BLEACH and, like Aizen, Lord Asriel literally threw away everything to achieve that goal. It’s wild seeing Professor X go full Magneto and love it!

Line-Manuel Miranda is in this as the snarky Lee Scoresby, Texan Aeronaut, extraordinaire. Look, Manuel is a brilliant artist, i can’t take that away from him. He’s exceptional in Hamilton and on the stage but that’s a completely different skill set. There is a way you have to perform, to project, on stage that doesn’t translate to film and Manuel is still trying to get a handle on that. He’s not terrible in this role, mind you, but he’s just serviceable. However, the chemistry he has with Keen is something special. You can tell they get along strongly and that genuine interactions shines through in their performances together.

The rest of the cast is just as strong, specifically Kit Connor and Joe Tandberg as Pantalaimon and Lorek Brynison, respectively. Ariyon Bakare, Clarke Peters, Anne-Marie Duff, Lucian Msmati, Amir Wilson, Ruta Gedmintas, Will Keen, and Lewin Lloyd all turn in incredibly strong performances, for what they were given. A lot of these characters deserved a bit more screen time, a bit more fleshing out, but i am okay with what we did receive. This ain’t their story, it’s Lyra’s.

I just need to take some time and praise this show for how properly gorgeous it is. I mean, the level of production on this thing is rather profound, you knew that in the opening scene during the flood, but moreso as the world begins to expand. I know a lot of this stuff is filmed on sets and what not but, my goodness, are they elaborate and detailed. That whole arctic run was brilliant. It’s particularly intriguing when you understand how well the CG effects were used in regards to budget. The whole “show don’t tell’ adage definitely comes into effect for this serial and it’s all the better for it.

I am absolutely in love with the narrative, man. Never mind the actual plot in the books, the adaption presented is one of the best I've seen in a long a while. My goodness, the world being built is so enthralling, so captivating, i hate that i slept on this show, this series, for so long. I understand that this is one interpretation of the novel events but I'm still infatuated with every second of it.

The writing in this show is on point, for sure. It feels organic, it feels real. I know this is a series of books, decades old, but that goes a long way to proving the pedigree of this adaption. This doesn’t feel out of place or trite or try hard. It works beautifully, except for when Manuel is delivering dialogue outside of his scenes with Keen, and that is a real joy to watch.

There is a distinct focus on diversity displayed throughout this show so far and i love it. This is a reflection of the world in real time and more, big budget, shows need to show this reality. The difference between this and, say, Disney Star Wars or current Doctor Who, is the fact none of the representation in Materials feels forced. It feels organic, intrinsic to a story about entire worlds. You need this level of diversity for this story to be taken even remotely seriously in the modern day and i commend the production for handling this so well.

The Okay

I’ve never read the books so i can only judge this thing on what i glean from the wiki and what i see in the show. While i am completely smitten with what has been resented, the show feels like an abridged version of what we get in the books. I know for all adaptions that’s true but this feels like a legit highlight real of the greatest hits. I can’t say for sure but the adapted screenplay feels like it’s trying to load up on plot as much as possible, in as short a time as possible. Makes for an interesting view but, as a cat who understands storytelling, it feels like a patchwork of content.

This thing has some pretty brisk pacing. Again, i don’t know from where this first series is adapted but it definitely feels like they were in kind of a hurry to get. I mean, it really doesn’t but once sh*t gets started, it never looks back at all. It feels like that, at certain times, we should have definitely sent more time on an interaction or with a relationship. Lyra’s time in the Magisterial and Bolivar, particularly, seems rushed to me.

It’s uncomfortable how many times they make Dafne get naked. Obviously, they don’t show anything and it’s all inferred but, like, gross.

The Verdict

I loved this show, man. Absolutely adored every second of it. The BBC, when it really wants to, can produce some brilliant film. Luther, Sherlock, War of the Worlds, are all favorites and now His Dark Materials can be confidently added to that list. This show is gorgeous to watch, the production values on full display. Sweeping cinematic vistas both real and composite, permeate this rather cleverly effect heavy adaption. The performances, alone are enough to keep you coming back for more but this is, genuinely, one of the most gorgeous shows I've ever seen. Speaking of performances, everyone is excellent but the anchor is definitely Dafne Keen. Her Lyra Silvertongue is the linchpin of this entire show and she bares that weight brilliantly. I forget sometimes that she’s only fifteen, especially considering the talent she with whom she shares the screen. Ruth Wilson, James McAvoy, and Lin-Manuel Miranda all have capitol roles in this first season and they relish their time on camera, especially Wilson. I’ve been a fan of hers since that brilliant run on Luther as Alice Morgan so seeing her, here, has been giving me the best type of deja vu. His Dark Materials is f*cking outstanding, man. I can gush about this thing ad nauseam but this essay would definitely turn into a novel and no one wants that. If you have HBOMax, definitely give this a go. It’s one of the best shows out, has a full eight hours to binge in season one, and another four, so far, in season two. Sh*t is dope and i highly recommend a proper watch.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Reflecting Light - Chapter Twenty Five.

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Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

“So, what did they say?” Sy asked as Naz came out to find him in the back yard, barbecuing brisket for their dinner. She’d just been chatting via Skype to her mom and dad, finally letting them know the news.

“They didn’t expect it to happen quite so quickly, but were thrilled, and you didn’t mention you’d asked my dad’s permission first! I said I’d call later on too with you there as well when you’re not barbecue fiddling, so they can talk to you as well,” she replied, touched that he’d been so proper. It had meant everything to her father, to have his daughter’s new boyfriend ask him for her hand in marriage.

“Of course I did. I have a lot of respect for your dad, he’s a great guy. I miss them, you know. It’s crazy because I only met them one time, but they’re fantastic people. And yeah, that’d be great! I look forward to it now I’ve got the damn vent on this thing sorted out and I’m not about to blow up the backyard,” he told her, Naz glowing to hear such words about her precious family.

To have her family so pleased for them made the fact they hadn’t heard from his mom yet slightly more bearable. It was their last night in Texas, their flight to Virginia leaving at lunchtime the following day, where Sy would stay with Naz for a month before he had to decide on his plan going forward, career wise.

“They said they can’t wait to see you again. They mentioned that they might come out for Christmas, Maryam and Amira too. We’ll see nearer the time, though,” she commented, wrapping her arms around him as he closed the barbecue again, the smell of well-seasoned meat drifting through the air heavily.

“Yeah, that sounds great. It’d be even better if we could get the entire family together, providing my mother has pulled her head out of her ass by then,” he sighed, Naz hoisting herself up to sit on the solid oak barbecue table, stroking his arms and pulling him into a kiss. She knew how angry it had left him, the whole situation with his mom.

She still hated that she’d been the one to come between them, but also it made her heart soar, how he took her side and absolutely refused to budge an inch toward his mother until they received the apology he was adamant they were owed.  

“Give her time, she’ll get in touch when she finally sees that she hasn’t handled this correctly,” she reassured him with, not knowing whether such would happen or not, but wanting to provide something to stop him frowning quite so heavily. When those words didn’t work, she chose a different track.

“How long until the food is ready?” She asked.

“About fifteen minutes. Why?” He got his answer when she let her dress straps slide down, revealing she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath.

“Mmmm, that’s more than enough time to get exactly what I’m craving right now.” She murmured, kissing his neck as one of her hands slid down to grasp his dick through his pants, moaning faintly, her tongue flickering over where his pulse quickened.

She kissed him hungrily, noting that he tasted like bourbon as he enveloped her in his arms, groaning into her mouth when she squeezed him again, lying her back on the table and greedily sucking her nipples, his fingers impatiently pushing into her underwear.

Her pussy throbbed with want, his fingers invading her as he bit her nipple, Naz gasping as his teeth crushed the small, dark bud, sucking it with a groan before his mouth was back on hers, his fingers exploring her deeply.

She sat up again, Sy attempting to push her down once more, a move prevented as she hung onto his shirt and gently bit the side of his neck, the buttons coming undone in her fingers before she wrestled with his belt, freeing his hardened cock.

He inhaled sharply as her thumb began to glide across the tip, smearing pre-cum around, his fingers curling within her as a gritted groan left his mouth, her nails grazing over his scalp as her skilled hand squeezed him with the kind of finesse that left him breathless, her thumb still sliding back and forth.

“Fuck me.” She breathed, kissing him again as he dragged her to the very edge of the table, pushing his jeans and boxers down his legs before sliding into her urgently, gratifying her demand in an instant, hooking one of her legs over the bend in his arm as he filled her completely.

He began to bury himself within her keenly, his thick, pulsing cock trawling her walls, Naz jutting her hips forward against him as she clutched the edge of the table, his slow, deep thrusts putting air between the surface and her as she wrapped her other arm around his neck, nails flexing beneath his shirt.

Soft mewls left her mouth as each thrust pushed a breath from her lungs, consumed as ever by the sheer size and power of him. A guttural string of curses left his mouth as he nibbled her neck, big hands pawing at her thighs, his other arm hooking under the leg around him eventually, mirroring the other, Naz hanging onto him as he began to thrust more wildly within her.

He coaxed uncontained moans from her the harder and faster he moved, splitting her around him as her cunt flowed and opened for him like a flower, all dew gilded petals, so soft and pretty in contrast to him; hard, manly and unyielding as he fucked her voraciously.

Climactic fury swelled and broke free over them both, their session too frenzied and hurried to withstand a chance of lasting any longer than it did. It achieved what Naz aimed for though, which was to have her husband smile at her as he caught his breath.

He knew she wanted to take his mind off everything, knowing of course he wasn’t in the best mental headspace where his mother was concerned. Even though her efforts didn’t go unnoticed, helping him with tasks in the back yard, playfully wetting him with the hosepipe which lead to him chasing and drenching her with it and helping him work on his trucks in the early evening before dinner, he still couldn’t quite forget it all.

It bothered him to have something nagging at the back of his mind. Sy was nothing if not an extremely pragmatic man. He rarely worried or let things make him anxious, he had enough that could keep him awake at night as it was, memories of war which haunted him. He hoped that leaving for Virginia might help him not lie there awake while Naz slept soundly next to him.

He hated it, feeling so happy with life but having that dark shadow hanging over him. The only thing that really made the situation any better was hearing from his other family members over how much they loved his new wife, his dad especially. Also, there was the reaction he received from his regiment after he and Naz met up with them a few nights prior to their departure.

Quite a few of the guys already knew something was doing on between them, Private Greg Watson bravely commenting ‘You don’t bang nearly as quietly as you think you do, sir’ to him, Sy laughing much to the young soldier’s relief. Calvin was thrilled for him too, the only dampener in his best friend’s opinion being that he didn’t get to throw him a bachelor party.

Overall, he felt a lot better about everything upon leaving Texas, although of course the quarrel with his mother still niggled at him. Instead, he attempted to focus on all that was good, like spending more time with his lovely new wife and meeting her friends for the first time.

“So who’s who?” Sy asked after they’d arrived at Naz’s apartment and got settled, unpacking, relaxing and ordering in from an Italian restaurant Naz favoured.

“That blonde there is Leanne, that one there is Leah and the redhead is Kate,” she replied, pointing out here three closest friends in the picture he held. “They’re absolutely dying to meet you, too.”

“Let’s hope they react better to the fact we got married than my mom did,” he sniffed, putting the picture down.

“Hey, come on,” she began softly, pulling his head down to her level and kissing the frown lines crinkling his forehead. “She’s one person. A very important one, this much is true, but still, just one person. Everyone else has reacted incredibly well. I suppose what I’m saying is that it could be a lot worse. It could be us against the world.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m just damn pissed off, still. Anyway, how do you feel about it all now? You’re the person she insulted, after all,” he replied, wrapping her in a hug.

“I’d prefer she didn’t feel the way she did and at least give me a chance, but I can’t force the woman to like me if she doesn’t want to. Time might change her mind, but whatever her opinion, I’m not going anywhere. I love you, habibi,” she told him, stroking his face and kissing him.

“I love you too, baby doll.” He was still a little quiet at times between then and Saturday, the day he was meeting who she referred to as her chosen family, her best girlfriends, but by the day itself he seemed to have pulled himself out of his funk a little.

Naz went to meet them for coffee and lunch early in the afternoon, arranging to meet Sy a little later on since the Dallas Cowboys were playing and he wanted to find a suitable dive bar to go and watch it in. He located one that was screening the match and happily left his wife to go and have some girl time.

“Y’all only be wanting to chatter about me anyway, as you ladies do, so I might as well make myself scarce while you tell them all about my junk,” he told her outside of the bar he was about to enter, Naz laughing loudly.

“Have a great time, message me when you’re done and I’ll send you the address of the bar we’ll be in.” She received a big kiss before heading off, getting an Uber to meet her girlfriends at a restaurant ten minutes across town.

“Nazzie!” Leanne screamed, making all the other diners turn and stare as she raced out of her seat, Leah and Kate following, all three screaming as they saw Naz enter and piling on to hug her happily. They hugged in a group before she gave them all individual cuddles, happy tears shed at being reunited again before they all sat down and ordered drinks.

“So, where’s the big dude you told us you were bringing home with you?” Leanne asked expectantly, Naz deciding to just drop the bombshell.

“Oh, my husband is watching the football. He’ll be along later after the game,” she replied, all three taking a second before suddenly, eyes widened, mouths dropped and hands began to flap excitedly.

“Your what?” Leanne shouted.

“You got married?” Leah added.

“When? Oh my god!” Kate finished with, Naz only able to give the briefest of explanations before she was set upon by three squealing women, demanding to see her ring, all gushing when she showed them the picture the registrar had taken and generally, being just as happy and excited as she was. As far as welcomes home went, theirs was truly wonderful.

[tonystarktogo]

“It’s never gonna be over.” They are a practiced liar in it only for her own gain, an amoral mercenary who doesn’t play well with others and a business shark on a warpath. [If there is such a thing as a match made in Hell, they are it.]

*

Natasha stares at the number on her bank account — well, one of them — in stunned silence, too numb to feel the happiness, joy, ecstatic shock that is probably appropriate for a moment such as this. 

As a grifter — a damn good one at that, Natasha strives for nothing less than perfection in her chosen craft — Natasha is used to being surrounded by wealth and money, extravagance and shameless posturing. It’s basically her job description. 

But there’s a lot of zeros and then there’s a hell of a lot of zeros. It’s too much, the amount far too high to feel real. The kind of money that goes beyond wealthy, beyond filthy, stinking rich. Tony’s rich, Natasha knows that. Everyone knows that. Or, well, he used to be. Back before he sold his properties and put all his money into saving Stark Industries, only to turn around and retire from his position, sell his stock to his successor and disappear out of the public eye.

[Everyone in the industry knows there’s more to it than that. Everyone knows there’s something shady about the way Tony Stark left his own company — some say of his own volition, some say his hand was forced. No one is stupid enough to believe that the murder of his assistant preceding those changes is in any way or shape a coincidence.

But Natasha is one of the few who has run into Tony Stark since then — or rather the ruin of what used to be Tony Stark. He goes by Anton, these days, and that he smiles a hell of a lot less is the least of the changes. As such Natasha isn’t forced to rely on unconfirmed rumors and gossip. She knows damn well that Stane did something unforgivable. And didn’t have the smarts — or the guts — to put Tony Stark down when he could.

He’ll regret that weakness one day, of that Natasha has no doubt. If there is a man out there, that will one day turn Tony Stark into a killer, it is Obadiah Stane.]

The point is, even for the old Tony Stark this would amount to an indecent fuck-ton of money. For your usual mortal — which Natasha in spite of all her talents is — it’s the kind of sum you vaguely dream about because you can’t even picture what it might look like. What it might mean.

Now here they are.

“We’re gonna be set for life when this is all over,” Natasha mutters. Tries to work through the confusing mixture of disbelief, shock, relief, exhilaration and amusement this seemingly innocuous number evokes in her. To understand how she feels about this, not just the situation itself but its implications.

She’ll never have to work again. She’ll never have to do anything she doesn’t want to again. And — far more important — she’ll be able to do anything she wants. 

This? This is what Natasha’s been working towards, been dreaming of all her life. It’s what every grifter wants, really. Every criminal even. This is the mythical big score. The one everyone always talks about and most never, ever achieve.

[It should feel more satisfying, shouldn’t?]

And yet, despite all that Natasha isn’t sure what to do with it. She’d assumed it would take her several more years yet to reach this moment. [And even then, the payoff she would’ve considered acceptable would’ve been much, much lower.] It feels almost too easy.

Natasha forces herself to tear her gaze away from the screen. The number won’t change and it’s not wrong, she’s already run those checks a dozen times. While her temporary colleagues have remained quiet — perhaps caught up in their own shock, though considering their identity, that doesn’t seem likely.

Anton isn’t smiling.

It’s such an odd, little thing to stick out to her, and yet it’s the first thing Natasha notices. After all, people usually smile when they’re holding a payout of more millions than they knows what to do with. Not that it surprises Natasha.

[She hasn’t seen Anthony Stark smile since the day Pepper Pott bled out in his arms.]

Anton’s staring at her now, not avoiding eye contact for once. An unvoiced challenge. [Natasha’s never been good of letting those go unanswered. And it irks her, just a bit, that he knows her well enough to know this already, even though she’s already decided she doesn’t mind playing along. For a bit.]

"There’s no way Hammer put this much aside," Natasha states the obvious. "Even if we’d taken his company for everything it got, no way would we have made this much money off one job."

"Or maybe you’ve been working the wrong jobs." Anton smirks when she rolls her eyes in response. "Come on, I’m a motherfucking Stark. You can’t seriously think I don’t have any tricks up my sleeve. Playing with the stock market? I’ve been doing that shit since I was fourteen and contrary to what my esteemed former board members like to think, I’ve learned a lot over the past decade."

And the thing is, Anton wears casual arrogance like second skin and just like his infernal goatee and those ridiculously fancy suits he’s so fond of, he makes it look good.

As if to underline Natasha’s point, Anton continues with a simple "All of this?" accompanied by a careless wave of his hand. "There was no way I was gonna let us walk out of this job with anything less. It’s the least of what we’re owed."

There’s something in Anton’s eyes that sends a by now familiar thrill down her back  – because Natasha knows that cold edge. Knows Anton’s brilliant mind that constantly works on fifteen problems at once. Knows even now, with this little game of theirs finished [a stunning victory, as though it could’ve been anything else] he is already setting up the next move. [The next target.]

Natasha has met men on a warpath before and Anthony Edward Stark meets every single criteria. She doesn’t need to understand how he thinks exactly — doubts anyone could, the man’s been called many things, but his unofficial title as a genius has been hard-earned — to know that somewhere in that pretty, pretty head of his, Anton’s keeping book of every offense committed against him and his. Is slowly but surely working through a list only he knows the full extend of.

[Stane was a fool. Part of Natasha — the part that has watched Anton break himself apart over the last fourteen days — hopes she’ll be there when Anton finally, inevitably turns his attention to him.]

But now is not the time for these things. With that in mind, Natasha forces a teasing grin on her lips, keeps her eyes shadowed but her words light. "Yes, yes, we all know you’re amazing."

Even Barnes snorts at the dryness of her tone, though Anton, at least, is unbothered.

"And don’t you forget it."

"Well, then." Natasha catches herself before she involuntary glances down at her phone’s screen again, still not convinced that this money is real. Is hers. "I suppose this is it."

Catches the eyes of Barnes, then Anton because they deserve that much. Working with competent partners is always a pleasure. And though Barnes prefers too much brute force for her taste and there’s a ruthlessness to Anton’s machinations that goes far beyond Natasha’s own cool practicality, she’s enjoyed this job. [More than she thought she would.]

"It could be."

To her genuine surprise, it’s Anton who says those words. [The same Anton whose first words to Natasha were 'I don’t do teams’ with casual derision.] But there’s no doubt he means them — means what they imply — else Anton wouldn’t have spoken up at all.

A quick glance towards Barnes confirms what Natasha has assumed: He’ll let her take the lead on this conversation, if only because it means he won’t have to talk himself. Barnes is a man of very few words indeed.

"What else is there to do?" Natasha obligingly asks. "The job is done. We’re done. It’s over."

[She knows those words are a lie, of course. Knows that big score or not, it was never just about the money. You don’t become a world-class grifter wanted in seven countries and counting just because you need money. Maybe that’s how it started — and sure, the riches are nice to have — but Natasha loves it. Loves the rush. Loves reading the mark, enticing it, blinding it. Loves pulling off a job and getting away with it against all odds.

It’s been less than ten minutes, but Natasha doesn’t need time. She already knows that, millions or not, she won’t stop now. Wouldn’t know where to start, even if she wanted to.]

“It’s never gonna be over.” Anton says it absently, matter-of-fact. "Not for me."

A simple acknowledgement of a truth Natasha already knows. [Men like Anton, they don’t stop half-way through. They don’t stop at all. And perhaps she should know better than to get involved with someone so hell-bent on revenge, but. Hell was always gonna be her ultimate destination anyway. Why not enjoy the ride?]

The way Anton looks at her, at Barnes, there’s no missing the implication. The unspoken offer. The warning. 

You can walk away now if you want. [Get out while you still can.]

A sensible person would’ve taken him up on that offer. A sensible person would walk away.

“Good.” Barnes hums. “I’d be bored to death if I didn’t have to pull your ass out of a fire.” Light and easy, everything he shouldn’t be and usually isn’t. [Like he isn’t committing to a cause without a take-back option.]

Natasha thinks she hates Barnes for that, a little. For the light in his eyes that never dims, no matter how much blood he spills. For how easy he makes it seem, like he really just makes that decision in the spur of the moment, because he likes Anton well enough and doesn’t mind sticking around some more.

[Like he doesn’t care at all about all the ways in which this can and will blow up in his face.]

Anton raises a questioning eyebrow at Natasha. She licks her lips. Thinks of the life she can afford now, somewhere far, far away, without an extradition agreement to any of the countries she wouldn’t like to revisit. The comfortable, even extravagant life she could lead. [Thinks of the bloodied smile on Barnes lips, the way Anton’s eyes lit up when Hammer broke.] Shrugs.

“You’re not completely incompetent. Sure. What’s one more job?”

*

AN: I hope you’re all safe and healthy and that this fic will be a pleasant distraction for everyone who’s currently trying very hard to keep calm and carry on. Please take care of yourselves, lovelies!

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Fifteen

Claire comes back to the past with Brianna and arrives at Helwater looking for Jamie—but must confront the Dunsanys first.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen

******************************************

When Geneva left a few days later, she took her sister to stay with her. It had been their mother’s idea since Geneva insisted she didn’t need Claire to examine her again and that she was fine. But Claire could tell from the relief on Geneva’s face as she preceded Isobel into the carriage that Lady Dunsany’s idea had been planted there by her daughter. 

Claire could only shake her head at the young woman’s predicament and try to enjoy the fact that she would have her own daughter all to herself again.

Brianna appeared excited by the change in routine too. At least, she did at first. But by the end of the first week helping Claire tend to minor injuries and working in the herb gardens of the estate, Brianna was considerably less enthusiastic. Even when she began spending some of the days helping Jamie with his groom’s duties, Claire could sense something was off with Brianna. 

Claire too was beginning to find the excitement and novelty of Helwater wearing away. 

“You need to cut the stems at an angle,” Claire prompted Brianna as they crouched in the garden. Each had a basket next to them and a short blade with a sharp edge. 

Jamie had gifted them with the matching set, though Claire’s instincts screamed not to let her daughter wield something so potentially dangerous, Jamie had taken Brianna aside and given her a thorough training with it. 

“Be sure to remember, you should always—”

“Cut away from my body,” Brianna recited, exasperated. “Make sure my other fingers are out of the way. I know, Mama.”

“I know you know,” Claire said, apologetically. “I don’t say it to make you feel I don’t believe you know better. It’s more like one of your father’s superstitions. If I don’t say it, then it will happen. I’m saying it to protect you.” 

She paused in her own cutting to glance at Brianna who frowned back, unamused. 

They worked a while longer in silence before Claire finally broke down and asked, “Are you missing your lessons with Lady Isobel?”

Brianna shrugged but didn’t look at Claire. “Not really. I miss… I actually miss school. Back home in Boston. I miss my friends,” Brianna confessed.

Claire moved to sit beside Brianna. “Of course you do, sweetheart. It’s a lot you’ve given up and it’s only natural you would miss some of it — especially the friends you left behind. It’s not as though you can be pen pals with them. And there aren’t a lot of girls your age here at Helwater, either.”

“Sometimes… sometimes I get so bored and… I don’t have anyone to talk to,” Brianna said in a choked whisper. Claire watched one tear, then another, drop onto the tansy plant in front of her. “I’m glad to be here with Da but… I wish he could have come through and found us in Boston instead.” 

Claire set her knife aside and reached over to rub Brianna’s back. “You know, sometimes I wish the same thing,” she whispered back. 

Brianna’s head shot up, her face filled with disbelief and relief. “You do?”

Claire nodded. “There are a lot of things about the 20th century that I miss, too… like my friends. But I also know that they miss me and they want me to be happy – even if they don’t know where I am exactly. I wish they could meet your father.”

Brianna nodded. “I wish my friends from school could meet Da. They’d think he was a giant,” she giggled. 

“I miss the hospitals we left behind,” Claire continued. “The clean smell of the antiseptic. Proper medical equipment like x-rays and anesthetic to figure out what’s wrong and set it right with less fuss. Having the necessary medication at the ready instead of always feeling like I’m going to run out of what I need the moment it’s needed.”

“Yeah,” Brianna agreed, “this is a lot more work.”

“But the challenge can be fun too. Trying to make something without the proper tools is enjoyable when it isn’t an emergency.” 

“Like a puzzle.” 

“Precisely,” Claire smiled at her daughter. “What are some other things you miss?”

“Television. And music, like listening to the radio in the car.” Brianna tilted her head, her voice growing more animated as they spoke freely. “I mean, it’s nice not to have so many cars around. There’s plenty of space to play and it’s quieter. But it takes so long to get places, you might as well not go. Except when you don’t go places, it gets so boring.”

Claire chuckled. “There is certainly more limited entertainment in that way. And you’ll always miss those things – the books that haven’t been written yet, the music that hasn’t been composed yet, the films that won’t happen until the equipment to make them is invented. But there’s music that you would never know about if you weren’t here to experience it in person because the people making it don’t know how to write it down or they make it up as they play. And there are a lot of books that have been written.” 

“And we have Da to read them with us.” 

“Mmmmhmmm. And we might miss those other stories, but we got to read them or see them or hear them and we can share those with him as well.”

“There are a lot of little things to be sad about and a lot of little things to be happy about too,” Brianna summarized, her eyes wide with the truth of it. But a smile played at the corners of her mouth too. “I think I need to do a better job counting the happy ones.”

Claire watched Brianna as she turned back to their chores. Brianna did seem lighter as she held the plant steady with one hand and cut at the stems with the knife in the other. 

“I think I do too,” Claire murmured, turning back to her own basket and examining the bundles of cuttings she’d made. 

They lay neatly, all going in the same direction, still mostly clustered together into the groups she would bind together and hang for drying. After that task was done, there were those herbs that had already dried that would need to be crushed and mixed into the various ointments, salves, and decoctions most used in her healing on the estate. Few of those lasted long before spoiling so it was necessary to remake them on a regular schedule and dispose of what had gone unused in the last batch. It was a constant cycle of activity, something always needing to be done, that made it too easy to ignore the disappointment and sorrow building in her chest. 

She wanted a baby and every month that passed that she and Jamie failed to conceive, she sank a little further into that disappointment. It would consume her if she let it. 

But if she wrapped herself in that, it would block out the light of all she did have, most importantly the daughter before her. No matter how old she got, Brianna would always be her baby. All she had to do was close her eyes and she could remember the weight and warmth of that small body in her arms, the smell of the top of her head, the subtle differences of her various cries that only she had learned how to interpret. 

What’s more, she had Jamie again to share in everything yet to come. Brianna growing into a woman, courting boys, learning how to be a wife and mother, or whatever other path their daughter might decide to take — if anyone was likely to buck the expectations of an 18th century woman, it would be one who had spent her formative years in the 20th century.

She needed to focus on what she had and not what she wanted. She’d done that with Frank and it had left them miserable. It had worked out, in the end, and she’d been given what she wanted — a life with Jamie and their child — but she couldn’t expect to be so lucky again. Could she really have gotten used to having Jamie back so quickly? Was she already taking for granted the fact that she had him in her life once more?

“Mama? Are you already done?” Brianna asked, breaking Claire’s reverie. 

“Just counting, darling,” Claire said, shuffling down her row and taking up her knife again. “A few more should do it. Then we can head inside and move on to the next part.”

******************************************

As she lay in bed that night and Jamie turned towards her, she began counting under her breath. 

The way his fingers brushed her shift aside to expose her shoulder. “One.” The way his breath stirred her hair so it tickled her ear whenever he kissed along her jaw. “Two.” The way the heat of his body hovering just above hers had her back arching toward him, so eager for contact. “Three.” The way her skin felt like it was shrinking so that she might burst when his tongue traced its way down her torso. “Four.”

“Are ye makin’ sure I dinna miss a step, Sassenach?” Jamie asked with a chuckle as he lifted his head and grinned at her. 

“Just counting my blessings,” she told him, reaching down and running her fingers through his ruddy curls. “Brianna and I were discussing all the things we miss about Boston and all the things we’re happy to have here. There were several I left off my list at the time because I didn’t think it appropriate to share them with her. But now,” she purred, writhing as he bent his head back to teasing her. “Now I intend to take a full accounting.”

“Mmmm, well, I’ll see if I can make ye lose count.”

[swamplatibule]

Paramay Prompt Three! Para+Childhood

I HAVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR FOUR MOTHERFUCKING DAYS NOW AND I HAVE NO REGRETS :DDDD

this has not been proofread it is 10 at night, I am exhausted, please accept my humble offerings

Damn, only prompt three and I’m already forced to reveal everyone’s tragic backstory oh well lol

Trigger warnings: Abuse, arson, su•c•de, death, homophobia, murder, gun mention

tw; death mention

Alright alright alright let’s fuckin goooo we’ll start off with Hollister, her childhood is no doubt the easiest to write since it’s basically been the same her whole life.

She never met her parents. She doesn’t know if they’re dead, or if they just decided they didn’t want a kid, or if something else happened, and she doesn‘t care. It’s not her problem. At least, she tells herself that, but she really isn’t 100% sure that it wasn’t somehow her fault. Poor baby.

She‘s completely grown up in the foster care system, bouncing from home to home. Hollister kept running away, getting caught, and being sent somewhere else. She’s also, guess what, a fucking genius with technology.

One time she tried running away and then erasing herself from the system. It didn’t work, but nobody realized that she’s tried to do it, so it’s fine, nothing went wrong.

A few weeks into her newest home, one of the other foster kids named Silas (who she’d been fast friends with) went missing days after developing a weird anti-gravitational power. And so she tried to find him. She stumbled across the Starwritten Society - when I say “stumbled across” I mean she followed a few very questionable leads on, like, conspiracy theory websites and shit and actually found something - and hacked into the archives, trying to find some sort of info.

Now, you can imagine the panic that caused in the Society. Complete lockdown. The Starwritten Society is top-secret, and nobody just hacks into the archives that easily. She didn’t actually find anything, one because she didn’t get time to look around before the security system actually started working and kicked her out, and two because Silas just wasn’t in the records anyway, meaning he’d disappeared some other way.

However, before she could go out looking for him, there were three agents knocking at the door, having tracked her location here. And you can imagine the looks on their faces when they saw that the person who had caused the mass panic that morning was none other than some kid with a computer that looked home-made.

Things happened, she asked to join because, y’know, fuck yeah secret society, paperwork was filed, and she got in. She’s currently the youngest trainee to join the Society in seventy-four years. Also, fun fact, they had to fill out the adoption papers and such, so she’s listed as the child of Director Iara Adams. Which isn’t that big of a deal, since literally every kid in need of adoption taken in by the Society is adopted under her name, and most have only interacted with her like once, but... it’s a cool world building detail I felt like I needed to add.

Anyways, ONWARD!!!

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tw; homophobia

Kennedy was born in a pretty influential family with very “traditional” values. They kinda suck, so we won’t get too into that shithole.

Each generation of that family has had like six kids, and every single time, one turns out to be lgbtq+ and gets ✨disowned✨because the parents are just kinda assholes. It’s just this never-ending cycle.

Suffice it to say, Kennedy - being a flaming bisexual and all that - got disowned when she was like twelve after one of her siblings outed her by accident. Her uncle took her in. Guess what? He had also been disowned! When he was fifteen!

And he also went on to become a very important person in the Starwritten Society, and when he discovered Kennedy’s complete genius with technology, he recommended her to become a trainee at 17 years old.

To be honest, Kennedy’s basically gotten the short end of the stick when it comes to characterization and fleshing-out. I have quite a few paras like that, sadly. I think I might make her a playlist sometime and let her be the main character for a while.

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tw: abuse, arson, su•c•de, murder, gun mention

Fox. Oh boy. Fox grew up in a very... tense household. His father started out pretty okay when he was a younger kid, but he slowly started getting more and more violent and controlling, to both Fox, his twin sister, and his mother.

Fox always had a very close relationship with his sister, Wren. You know that siblings meme? The “You are my sister, you are my brother, we are siblings and we care for each other,”? The were the living definition of that. They managed to keep a definite sense of humor and lightheartedness with each other, despite everything that had been going on.

They weren’t fine, but they had each other.

And then Wren went missing. There was a huge police search, but they didn’t find anything. Fox was fourteen at the time. That experience basically broke him, and he never saw Wren again.

A month later, he was coming home from school, got off the bus, and found the house in smoking ruins. His mother hadn’t been able to take his father’s abuse anymore, and she couldn’t see any way out. So she set the house on fire, killing both herself and her husband.

Fox, who was a mental wreck at this point, as almost anyone would be, was placed into the foster care system. He never stayed anywhere for longer than a week. His humor became a shield for him, an easy way to seem like he was fine when he wasn’t. After about a year, he ran away. And then joined the circus. Why, you ask? Because I said so; I grow these flowers and if you don’t like it then you can leave my garden

Fox was always a flexible kid. He’d been in gymnastics classes since he was five. And, as it would turn out, he was damn good on a trapeze. It wasn’t a very big circus, just some small family-run traveling one, but it gave him a place to stay and an environment that welcomed him, and that was good enough for him.

He was with the circus for about four years, up until he was eighteen, so technically this isn’t his childhood anymore, but I’m gonna keep going because I want to.

The Starwritten Society was following a lead on an underground lab somewhere around the place where Fox’s circus was performing. Kennedy was actually on the mission, although she doesn’t do many of those anymore after she got injured in the field and such and I’ll talk about that later. Anyway.

The team of agents who were on the search came across the circus, and figured it was as good of a place as any to try and find the person they were looking for, Eleanor Sylvidas. She was actually in the crowd watching, and there was a confrontation after the show. Fox went to check it out, being the one generally in charge of telling people to cool it whenever small fights broke out between customers, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do in a situation where both parties happen to have guns pointed at each other. Especially when Eleanor pointed her gun at his head and told the agents that if they didn’t back down, she’d shoot him.

That wasn’t exactly something that happened to him on a day-to-day basis.

Of course, a fight broke out. Actually, Fox made the first move, he literally tried to snatch this woman’s gun out of her hand. It didn’t work, but the shot she took at him definitely missed, and then there was a very chaotic fight scene and Eleanor ended up losing and got arrested. Course, they still had to find the lab so they could get the kids out of there. Fox was very helpful in that aspect, too.

Once the mission had been completed, he was offered a place as a trainee in the Society. Those who were there will say that the offer was accepted immediately, but he was actually a bit reluctant. He made the choice to go, however, and it proved to be one of the best decisions he’s made.

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tw; abuse, violence, gun mention

Wilson. Where do I start? He has trauma, definitely, although so does practically everyone who works with the Starwritten Society.

See, Wilson is actually one of the people who were rescued from labs as children, but there are two things that sets him apart from others.

1. He wasn’t kidnapped at birth or after he developed abilities. He was literally created in a lab, which has led to a lot of self-doubt due to being raised to believe he wasn’t “natural”.

2. The Society aims to rescue all powered children from labs as soon as possible, and since many of them are kidnapped at a young age, they try to get them out at least before they turn 10. Wilson wasn’t found until he was a bit older than 17.

He wasn’t even given a name while he was in the lab. He was just “Project Firebird”, with abilities including fire and heat manipulation, as well as immunity to those two things, plus flight and enhanced strength, speed, and stamina. Wilson was made for the sole purpose of being a weapon.

The person running the lab? An absolute fucker of a man named Alastor Killigan. Him? I cannot put into words how much I hate him. He just really fucking sucks, and not in a “loveable bastard“ way. I honestly wish I could physically teleport into my daydreams just to set this bitch on fire.

Anyway, he’s running this whole operation. He’s got guards, he’s got other scientists who he may or may not have blackmailed into helping him, he’s got people who work for him. And this isn’t the first time he’s done this. That’s right, Grey isn’t the first time he’s tried to weaponize a kid. He got caught by the Society last time, but escaped, and now he knows that he has to keep moving around constantly.

So the first 17 years of Grey’s life were just constant training and experiments and tests and moving around and being raised to believe that he was a literal monster and wasn’t worth anything if he wasn’t a weapon. Fucked up, right? But, see, the Society had no idea he existed. They found the lab kids through keeping tabs on recent kidnappings and disappearances. Grey wasn’t on any of those lists. The only people aware of Grey’s existence were Alastor and the people working for him.

In fact, the Society only found him by chance. They managed to track Alastor’s location and find him to arrest him, and they found Grey while they were doing that. There was a huge fight, but Alastor lost, and Grey got rescued. Things were looking up.

Because the Society legally adopts all the orphaned kids they take in, Grey needed a name. He also just needed a name in general. The lady filling out the papers told him he could just pick something, and he panicked. He wasn’t used to being allowed to make his own decisions. There was a plaque on the wall with a list of people who’d been top agents in the past, and he just read one of those.

Grey Wilson.

So, y’know, that‘s why it says he was a top agent in 1937. Just a heads up.

Have I talked about the Society’s different departments yet? No? Maybe I’ll do that later, but anyway - one of the divisions is basically therapy, because some of these kiddos have severe trauma and need help. Grey worked with a woman named Mags for a few years, and then started training for the High-Risk Rescue department. He was taking charge of his own future! Yayyyy!

Oh yeah and then Alastor escaped - again, and Mags went missing on the same day and it was presumed Alastor killed her on his way out, and Grey hasn’t seen either of them since. He’s been working in the Society for about 22 years now, trying to make sure that nobody goes through what he has. He decided early on that he didn’t want to use his abilities again, ever, and it’s become his personal secret, with very few people knowing.