#I AM SO WELL FED BY THIS SEASON THANKS EVERYONE INVOLVED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daichiduskdrop · 1 year ago

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

CHAPTER 01

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: pretty much none for this chapter! Just a nice fluffy, protective and sweet chapter :)

A/N: hi everyone! Thank you all so much for your support I received for the prologue chapter I uploaded yesterday. I am really happy and grateful. If you enjoy the story, please let me know. I'm always looking for advice. English isn't my first language so please be patient :))

Also, I saw other people use taglists for accounts, I'm not 100% how it works, but if anyone would be interested I will try to figure it out.

Please take care of yourself. I love you.

Words count: 3385

Prologue:

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"Hyung? Hello?"

"Hm? What's up? Are you guys on your way? Jin is starting to stress out 'bout it."

His voice sounded calm, not worried one bit. It was obvious he was most definitely sitting by the fireplace, reading some poetry book. Kook got him one not too long ago as a thank-you gift, and before leaving with Yoongi, Jimin did notice it laying on the couch.

The youngest loved and respected his pack alpha, so showing gratitude in any way was very close to his heart. A simple plant for a nice camping-trip-hike Joon planned for them wasn't too unusual, a new pair of limited edition sneakers was granted, or a nice book of poetry, bought at the seasonal book fairs he sneakily visited, so the alpha would be surprised.

Of course, Jungkook often spoiled all of his other pack members, but among the pack, it was quite usual to buy Namjoon occasional small gifts. After all, he was keeping them well-kept, safe, warm, and fed.

Sure, they all may be alphas, suited to take care of themselves, and they did, but sometimes handing off the lead and worries to him was just too tempting. They needed to rent a house for a weekend stay in a different country? Joon would by no means even allow them to try and do it. The pack wants to buy ice-cream? Yes, he will go on and order it for the group, making sure to not forget any of the complicated toppings and flavor combinations.

Namjoon still had occasional mishaps, accidentally breaking new tableware, another controller, or losing his keys over and over, but his pack never took it too wrongly and knew of all the good he brought to them. It always outweighed the clumsiness.

"Yea hyung, we are on our way to the car right now, but-"

It didn't take him too long to notice that Jimin's voice was softer than usual, and even without being able to smell his scent, he was able to sense a sort of worrying undertone.

While he could start firing out questions right away, it wasn't his first day dealing with any issues involving his younger packmates. Everything could be sorted calmly in pretty much every situation, and he was a big believer of that fact. Though when he heard a whimper in the background of the call, he too grew worried. He sat up, putting the small book away. Unconsciously, he paid attention to everyone in the house at the moment; Jin's smell was in the kitchen, the occasional sizzling of oil and pots heard, Taehyung's scent upstairs, a bit too far for him to be able to sense what exactly he was doing, noting of Hobi's bright smell in his studio downstairs, and Jungkook's, also on the bottom-floor gym.

"Jimin-ah? What is it?" He didn't sound too overly concerned, even if he was quite worried. He didn't hear Chim sound so stressed in some time for sure. It was quite usual for the pack alpha's to try to bring peace to the pack, always have a rational mind and calm any agitation and anxiety.

Listening closely, only a bit of shuffling and fumbling noises could be heard.

"Um..- we met an omega..-"

A longer pause continued, and a faint voice of Yoongi in the background. He didn't hear him speaking so softly in a very long time, making Joon's eyebrows furrow only deeper.

"An omega? Are they okay?"

"No, hyung, something is really wrong..- her scent, she is really, really anxious for some reason-"

"Did you try to settle her? She could have entered omega space; you have to be really careful with that. Where are you right now? I'll come there to help."

"Yoongi hyung said it's the best for us to just take her home to us right now; we just got into the car and are leaving the parking lot now." Jimin said with the faint sound of the motor in the background.

"Alright, that's okay. I'll tell others. It's better for her to be somewhere with only a few specific scents than the mix of ones that belong to the group of strangers. Is she crying?" His question was followed by a soft sound of fabric moving. A shorter pause and then a yes.

Sighing, Namjoon stood up and started to make his way towards the kitchen. Jin looked up but didn't say anything after seeing him calling, and continued cutting up a few onions. Opening one of the top cabinets, he took out an essential oil often used for newly presented alphas for when their nose suddenly got bit too sensitive with the heightened smell. It wasn't uncommon for betas or omegas to use such oils or scented candles either, though.

"Poor cub. Just make sure you drive safe, okay? I'll try to get some things ready for her to nest with; that should help. Hyung is still cooking, but it should be done soon, did you buy the batteries for Tae and Koo?"

"Yea, we did, don't worry. We got some more stuff from that new game store for them too, but you'll see at home. Thank you, we will be there in about.. 10 minutes? I think?"

"Alright. Be careful, talk to you later."

Ending the call and folding his phone into his jeans pocket, the pack alpha looked towards his eldest hyung, who was already staring at him with questions written all over his face.

"What is it? I can smell you are worried, Joon."

For a few moments, he didn't answer, still bit too confused about everything. They didn't have an omega at their pack house basically ever.

"At the mall, they found an omega; she must have been really unsettled, so they tried to help. They are taking her here now."

Once again, talking without any noticeable worry in his voice. It was only his scent that carried a slight stench that was offsetting.

"An omega? Where is their pack? We have to notify her pack alpha; this could be serious."

"Yea, I think so too. Can you give her a meal too? We should have enough for one more person, right?"

Jin turned back around to stir the sizzling pan of glass noodles, softly humming.

"Of course, we have more than enough. You should go tell others. I'll go open windows so there is fresh air here, and it's not too scented for her right away."

"Thanks, hyung. I just hope she won't drop, so let's try to prevent that in any way possible."

Agreeing, he left Jin to his thing and started making his way towards the private studios.

Knocking softly on the doors in a short pattern, he didn't wait too long before he opened the entryway. There sat Hoseok, turned towards him. There was an open file on the screen that he was working on for the past few days.

"Hey, what's up?"

Closing the door after him, the pack alpha took a seat on the large black leather couch.

"I just got a call from Jimin; they are on their way back home. They have an omega with them though, they are taking her to the pack house."

Hobi's eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly.

"Really? Why?"

Sitting up slightly, he kept his eyes on Namjoon.

"Minnie said something was really wrong; she was just too unsettled, and they couldn't find her pack I guess either."

"Oh poor thing, they get really stressed in public places; she must have gotten overwhelmed," softly cooing at the thought of a soft, sad, anxious omega. Hobi always had a soft spot for those in need. And from the description, the little omega must be in need for sure.

"Yea, I think so too. Do you have any new blankets and pillows? Or just anything that's unscented still? We have to prepare at least some nesting materials."

"Probably don't have a blanket per se, but I have bought a new hoodie online, so it should be sealed in plastic and unscented. That could help right?"

"For sure, that would be great," smiling, Hobi stood up and took a still unopened carton box. Ripping off the tape and pulling out a white milky plastic package, a paper written note fell onto the ground. Gasping softly, he bent down in the chair. Handing him the package, he looked at the note, smiling softly. "Ah, look, they wrote me a nice note!" his bright heart-shaped smile brightened up Joon's slightly anxious mood immediately.

Chuckling, the man stood up. "They should! You always order so much!" he said as he opened the door to the hallway. "Thanks hyung, they should be here in a few minutes, okay?"

Now turned back towards the screen, he heard a light "Yup!" making him leave the room, closing the door softly. Now on his way towards the gym, the young pack alpha wasn't too worried about the youngest - or any of his pack members in general.

It was a shock for sure, but they were a healthy pack with strong bonds and relationships, and if Yoongi believed it was best to take the omega to their home, then it definitely was that way. They didn't meet a lot of omegas at their company, since they were only allowed to do very few jobs. Omegas required a good, peaceful company of a similar group that was kept constant, and with how many people mingled during the tours and such, it was hard to keep that up.

Sudden omegadrops were then a bit too usual, causing more worries and stress. Really, there were only a minimal amount of omegas in BigHit; it wasn't common for omegas to work in general either. Some packs that were more modern did support the idea, but the traditional ones were used to pretty much taking care of all of their financial needs.

The door of the gym was left slightly open, so Joon knocked to make himself known and entered. Jungkook was leaning against a wall, breathing heavily with a glass of water in hand. His big eyes widened, and he stood up fully, taking a big gulp.

"Hey hyung," breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath, he ran a hand through his long, messy hair.

"Hey Jungkook, Yoongi called me a few minutes ago; they are on their way home right now, but there will be an unsettled omega coming with them too, okay? Something must have gone wrong for her; I think she might drop on them, so they decided taking her to us will be the best right now."

The youngest didn't say much for a few seconds. Placing his glass on the ground, he came closer to his pack alpha, his scent subconsciously wafting out calming pheromones. It was natural for any alpha or beta to try and calm anyone that was just a bit weak and scared. It just happened naturally.

"Omega? They will want to nest then; we should get some stuff ready quickly.."

"Yea, do you have any unscented stuff lying around?" furrowing his eyebrows in thought, Kook closed his eyes thinking. Wiping off sweat from his face with the bottom of his T-shirt, he nodded.

"Yea, I bought new bed sheets; I think they arrived this morning... And I should also have a pillow that isn't scented by any of you, just me if that works?"

"Thanks Koo, that helps a lot. Can you go get it and take it to the guest room upstairs?" Nodding quickly, they both left the gym, Namjoon quickly squeezing his shoulder in approval.

Walking upstairs, the young pack alpha made his way towards the room that Taehyung was in at the moment. Knocking and opening, his packmate was laying on the bed, softly snoring, covered by a few blankets. Coming to his side, he shook his shoulder, waking him up.

"Yah, Taehyung-ah, wake up; it will be dinner soon," the younger slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times. Sighting out, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and hair out of the way.

"..Huh?" was the only thing the tired man could get out, mumbling incoherent words towards the pack alpha. Knowing he won't get far like this, he sent him to the bathroom to freshen up. He will tell him once he is able to take in information.

Closing the door and making his way back downstairs, he looked at the clock, only to see that it was about 15 minutes since the call. Noticing Jin getting the table ready with Hobi, he placed the packaged jumper on the couch, leaving it there. Taking a seat next to it, he decided to wait for the rest of his pack, listening to any noises from outside.

It didn't take too long until he heard the garage door opening and a car in the entryway. The soft sound of the motor turned off soon, and with that, Joon stood up and walked towards the entry door. He could sense Hoseok and Jin watching him do so.

The cold air hit him; it was still snowing outside, and the strong storm didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. While the nice, snowy Christmas was, in his opinion, superior to the wet, muddy one, it could be dangerous when driving. Knowing so, he watched Yoongi walking towards the entrance, his coat already covered in snow after only a few seconds of being outside. One of his hands was behind his back, seemingly clutching the palm of the omega.

Oh, but the small omega.

His breath hitched in his throat when he could smell her - the sweet, peach-like scent mixed with rose blooms was really nice, but it was covered by the stench of a rotting fruit. She was afraid, anxious, and worried, and the alpha inside of him felt the overwhelming need to keep her safe and secure.

Her hair and scarf covered most of her face, her eyes downcast as she clutched Yoongi's right hand, softly pattering behind him through the shoveled pathway. Jimin closed the garage doors and followed soon after.

Yoongi made short eye contact with Namjoon, only to pull the girl closer to the doors. Stepping out of the way, the alpha addressed her scent, sniffing the top of her head slightly - a traditional way to show she was welcome and allowed to come inside of their packhouse. Her big eyes were still filled with tears, playing with his feelings.

„Hello, what's your name?” Bending to see her face better they stood close to the doors while Jimin and Yoongi started to remove their boots and coats, placing away the plastic bags. Lifting up her chin to place it over the nice thick scarf she wore, she opened her soft lips to speak.

„L/N F-F/N..” the omega mumbled softly, sniffling at the end. The pack alpha was tempted to coo loudly, but held back for now.

„Alright, my name is Kim Namjoon, I'm the pack alpha... What happened hm?” She looked away, with her hands in the pocket, unconsciously bearing her neck just the slightest. When he didn't get an answer, he lifted his hand and softly caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

„It's okay, don't worry. We will help, yea? Come on, let's get your coat off and eat some dinner, okay?” only receiving a soft mumbled yea, the small omega shakily started to untie her gray scarf, the pack alpha helping her when she started to fumble with it. Softly petting her hair when he noticed the way her chin shook and how her nose was soft pink, her cheeks and eyes red and slightly swollen.

„There, there. It's okay now.“ he couldn't hold back the soft coo at the end of the sentence, watching closely when she unzipped her jacket, taking it from her and hanging it up on a free hanger. Helping her step out of the untied boots, he placed them close to the heater so they would dry up.

Yoongi poked his head through the door to the living room, looking at the omega for a second. Left in a pair of loose fit pants and a oversized pink hoodie with white socks, standing close to Namjoon seemingly worried just as she was back in the mall.

„Let's go eat now. Is japchae okay kitty? Jin made you a plate already come on.” he watched as her eyes grew wider for a second, big and bright, still glossy with few tears. „It-It's okay al-pha..” she softly mumbled, slowly walking towards his outstretched hand. Once she was close enough, he took her own and softly squeezed before pulling her after him.

Namjoon went after them, noticing the footprints left by her. While he thought it was quite cute with how she pattered after his packmate like a little pup, the thought of her feet being wet and cold pushed his instincts once again.

Leading her through the big living room, and towards the right where a big table was, with already most of the pack members close by, preparing for the meal and helping around. Just as she entered the living room, all 4 heads shot up at her scent.

Jin was the first one to move, placing the glass carafe down on the table and wiping his hands quickly, before he made his way to their direction. While Yoongi was still softly pulling her along, she notably stiffened up and slowed down, pretty much stopping her movements if it weren't for Namjoon softly patting her back, encouraging her to move forward.

„Hi F/N, I'm Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin okay? How are you?” his soft gaze was kept on her as she shuffled in her spot, before answering in a quiet voice. „It's nice to m-meet you Jin... I'm we-ll, thank you..” avoiding his gaze, she let Yoongi once again pull her along towards the seat near the head of the table.

Jumping in, Hobi was quick to pull out her chair, helping her take a seat and softly ruffling her hair. „There you go.. do you like juice? We have um.. I think we have orange and apple, maybe even peach one. Would you like some?” Looking up at the bright, smily man the small girl unsurely nodded, turning her head towards the pack alpha for approval. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries. Smiling with his dimples showing, he nodded easily while he poured himself a glass of water.

Meanwhile Jungkook, already a step further, looked through the fridge. „Yea, we have a really tasty peach one, I think you would like that one,” he said as he pulled out the chilled glass bottle, opening it „it's from a farm that's at the outskirts of Seoul. Here, let me pour you a glass.”

„Look at the back for the ingredients, we should be careful with those.” Said Jimin while he pulled out clean cuttlery from a drawer. Omegas were known to be very sensitive in general with pretty much anything - food, sicknesses, air pressure and temperatures and noise and a lot more. A stomachache was not what they wanted to happen.

Turning the bottle and reading the ingredients, Jimin soon looked over his shoulder and too studied them. Once reading over the four -pure white peach extract, water, sugar and vitamin C, they deemed it safe enough, pouring the meek omega a tall glass.

Thanking and slightly bowing in her seat, she took a small sip, and once her expression seemed a bit lighter and satisfied with the taste, the youngest alpha sighed out, patting her head. Taking a seat opposite to her, next to Hobi, he started to serve himself a plate of japchae.

The omega's plate was already filled long ago by the pack alpha, who handed her his cuttlery, getting himself a different set when he noticed she didn't have any at her place.

Just as she was going to dig in after another approval nod, with Yoongi on her left side, she heard another pair of footsteps. Another man, with slightly damp hair entered the living room, pulling out another chair and taking a seat with his eyes still slightly closed, only to have them shot open suddenly, focused on her.

„Why is the omega crying?”

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sam-is-my-safe-word · 6 months ago

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Demon Dreams

Demon!Dean Winchester x Jensen Ackles

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Non- AU, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Season/Series 10, Character Bleed, Jensen Is Not Okay, Jared is Jared, Jared Is Worried About Jensen, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Dean Is An Asshole, Emotional Manipulation, Identity Crisis, Possession, Sort of? - Freeform, Wet Dreams, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Strangulation, Exorcisms, Sexorcism If You Will,

Word Count: 3,201

Summary: Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. But it's not meant to take over your life like this, right?

Notes:

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "you fed my demons" "you created mine" square.

Okay, this is the most fictional thing I've ever written lol. This is an utterly fictional Jensen set in an AU with no wives or children. I am not implying for one single second that anything in this fic actually occured. Nor am I implying Jensen is gay or bisexual. Please don't sue me lol. Also, first time writing RPF/RPS. Still feel some kinda way about it. Be gentle with me (even though I am not gentle with you, my dear readers)

Endless thanks to my beta @runawaydr3amerao3 for all her help in making this so much better than I could have & for her comma wrangling <3 Endless thanks also to @talltalesandbedtimestories for getting me involved in this whole bingo thing & cheering me on <3

Jensen is no stranger to character bleed. It’s happened before. Some characters are just too heavy.

It’s happened with Dean a few times. Hard scenes that invade his dreams for days afterwards. Character arcs that refuse to leave when he sheds Dean to put Jensen back on and leave him snapping at everyone.

This is different, though. This is like the character has taken on a life of its own in his head.

Jensen is no stranger to sex dreams either. He’s a healthy guy in his mid-thirties with no long-term partner and a job that takes up almost all his life.

Jerking off at 3am because he woke up hard from a dream of some faceless someone riding him like a mechanical bull, and his alarm is going to go off in just over an hour and he’d really like to sleep a little more and sleep won’t happen until he deals with his cock, is just another part of life.

This is different as well. This isn’t a faceless stranger. He knows the person haunting his dreams.

Intimately.

Jensen has dreamed about Dean lots of times. He’s an old friend.

This is not his Dean.

~~~

Demon Dean was a challenge. He started out fun to play, a nice mix-up. A chance for extended scenes with Mark, to let out Dean’s inner asshole. A sex scene - awkward - and a fight scene - awesome. The black contacts weren’t fun but overall it was a good time.

Up until filming the third episode, when he had to act against Jared again, and suddenly Demon Dean wasn’t fun anymore. Then it was hard. Then it was fighting against every acting instinct that came with ten years of Dean, ten years with Jared.

Not Dean, Sam’s brother anymore; Demon Dean, Sam’s enemy. It was a hard headspace to get into. Chasing Jared around the bunker with a hammer was brutal. He couldn’t even truly lose himself in the character because he still had to direct everyone else.

Then it was over. Just three episodes and he was free to lose the murder shirt and style his hair properly again.

And he’s proud of his work. Especially ‘Soul Survivor’. It’s always a challenge to balance actor and director, but he’s thrilled with how it turned out. He made Demon Dean a true threat to Sam, and as long as he doesn’t examine that too closely, it’s okay.

But it’s been a couple of weeks since they finished ‘Soul Survivor’, and Jensen is still waking up sweating after dreams about black eyes and the words ‘do it’ ringing in his ears.

~~~

Look, Jensen is a perfectly sane guy. He has a great handle on his mental health, knows the signs of when he needs to reach out. Hell, after ten years of helping Jared, Jensen would say he probably knows more about mental health than most people who don’t actually suffer with mental health problems.

So while he knows that his dreams of weapons, black eyes and the thrill of the chase are just character bleed, he also knows that he needs to be aware in case they develop into something serious.

But nothing he knows tells him what to do when he starts to look forward to his dark dreams.

Jared might be able to help, though.

So a few days later, when he wakes up hard and aching after dreaming about Demon Dean fucking his throat raw - all while holding a knife to it - after he’s taken care of the problem, he texts Jared - once he’s washed his hands, of course.

It’s still early, but Jared gets up hours before he needs to, to work out and walk his dogs and generally become a person. A far cry from Jensen, who falls out of bed after four snoozes of his alarm and downs coffee until his eyes open.

Jensen: You up?

Jared: Yeah, lol. Why are YOU up?

Jensen: Can’t sleep. Can I ask you something?

There’s a pause and Jensen thinks maybe Jared’s sitting down or something. No one asks to talk at 3:30am. He isn’t expecting the phone to ring in his hand.

“‘Lo.”

“You okay? Not like you to be up at this time, never mind asking if you can ask me something.”

This is exactly what Jensen didn’t want. Now he has to try and explain himself with words instead of text.

“I’m okay. Just… Do you even dream about Sam?”

Jared lets out a small laugh; Jensen can hear the relief.

“All the time, man. All the fucking time. You don’t dream about Dean?”

“Yeah, I do. I mean… like, weird dreams about Sam?”

Jared hums.

“I had a recurring dream that he kept showing up to my high school graduation and glaring at me. Like I was an asshole for finishing school, y’know.”

Jared chuckles.

“Or when I’ve gone a little too hard on the candy and there’s Sam, staring at me from across a table with a pile of salad in front of him. Like, okay, dude. You’re a health nut, I’m not. That kind of weird?”

God help Jensen, Jared is going to make him spell it out.

“Not exactly…”

Jared must hear something in his voice because he starts to laugh, far too loudly for the time of day.

“Ohhhh… that kind of weird. Jackles, you pervert, you.”

This was a terrible idea, why did he even message Jared? He’ll never live this down now.

“No, not like- I mean, that kind of weird but not… Stop fucking laughing, Jared.”

Jared has gone from laughing to belly laughing; Jensen can hear him fighting for breath.

“I’m sorry...”

“You’re not.”

“No, I’m not. This is too funny. Hollywood hot-shot Jensen Ackles all in knots at 3am because he had a wet dream-”

“I fucking DID NOT!”

He did, though, night after night.

“Why are you blushing then?”

“I’m no-”

Damnit, he is. He can feel his cheeks heating up.

“It wasn’t a wet fucking dream, Jared. I’m not thirteen, for chrissakes. It was just a weird dream and it kinda freaked me out.”

“A weird sex dream, you mean.”

“Yes.”

Jared is still laughing but it’s starting to die down now.

“Okay, calm down. Yes, I dream about Sam. Yes, sometimes they’re weird. Yes, sometimes they’re sex-dreams-weird. Hell, I dream about fucking Sam more than I dream about fucking anyone else.”

Jared sounds perfectly at peace with this revelation, and if it was regular Dean that Jensen was dreaming about, he might get it.

“I mean, it’s either dream about fucking Sam or dream about fucking you . I’ll take Sam any day.”

Jared starts fake gagging and Jensen is over this entire conversation.

“Okay, good talk. Thanks, Jared. I’ll see you in a little while. Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“Wait. You know I’m only messin’ with you. You can talk-”

*Click*

Well, that was a waste of time. Jared sounded sincere at the end, but Jensen is too embarrassed to even try to talk now. Hopefully by the time he has to face Jared in the car, Jared will have found something else to talk about.

~~~

Jared was smart enough not to bring up the early morning phone call, and after a brief hug and a nod, they were all good.

Demon Dean, though? He’s dining out on the call, milking Jensen’s embarrassment for all it’s worth.

It’s a special kind of humiliation when someone is three fingers deep in your ass and you’re moaning like a whore, and they bring up an awkward 3am call you had with your best friend a few days ago.

“So you think this is weird, huh?”

Jensen never doubted Dean’s swagger was well earned, but Demon Dean turns it up to eleven. Jensen hasn’t come this hard since he was a teen, and it’s part of the reason he looks forward to these damn dreams, even though they freak him the fuck out.

“‘Cause you sure seem to like it.”

Demon Dean twists his fingers and Jensen howls.

“You like being here, at my mercy. You like when it hurts, when you’re scared. When I take it.”

Jensen’s hips buck. God, he’s so close.

“This is where you should be. That pretty face needs to be sucking cock or face down in the sheets.”

Jensen isn’t eighteen anymore, he’s not new to the scene and insecure about himself. He knows he’s a good actor, a good director, a fucking professional. But something about Demon Dean cuts through all that and suddenly he’s a kid again, doubting everything. It makes him even harder. The pitch black eyes and the waves of menace rolling off Demon Dean make Jensen legitimately scared of him, even though he knows it’s just a dream.

“Does it feel weird , Jensen?”

Jensen can only moan in response. It’s so fucking good.

“Answer me!”

There’s the cold and heavy weight of a hammer pressing into his Adam's apple, and when Jensen opens his eyes, Demon Dean’s own ice black is all he can see.

“N…no.”

He’s rewarded for his answer by a hard thrust in and upwards. He’s right there, he can taste it.

“N…no.”

Demon Dean mocks him.

“No, it doesn’t look like it, either. Looks like you’re having a blast. Cunt so tight around my fingers. Looks like you’re right where you should be.”

Jensen can’t breathe.

“Say it. Say you feel right here, cunt stuffed full of me.”

“I…”

“Say it, Jensen. Or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck. Fuck… I feel right.”

“That’s it. This is what you’re good for, isn't it? Just a pretty boy to get fucked.”

“Ju-just a pretty boy to get fucked. Fucking… please!”

Demon Dean smiles coldly.

Jensen wakes with a groan, hips still thrusting into the mattress as he soaks the sheets.

More laundry. He should buy more sheet sets.

~~~

Jared pulls Jensen aside a couple of weeks after the call. They’re out with some cast and crew from that week's episode, just relaxing, having some drinks and blowing off steam after a difficult shoot.

Jensen really doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t want to be anywhere, really. But he couldn’t refuse, not without prompting more questions. So he paints on a smile, sticks to beer and tries to let the conversations happen around him without getting involved.

Jared must notice his discomfort and grabs him on a trip to the bathroom.

“You alright, dude?”

Jensen sighs internally. He doesn’t want to do this.

“I’m fine, just tired, y’know.”

Jared cocks his head a little; looks at Jensen too closely.

“You wanna get out of here? I’ll split an Uber with you?”

God yes. But then it will be questions on Monday and he can’t with that.

“No, I’m good. Besides, you’re having a good time. You don’t gotta leave on account of my old ass.”

Another head tilt, Jared really can be a puppy at times. Normally, Jensen adores this caring side of his friend. But he’d give anything to have that focus aimed away from him right now.

“Jen…”

“I’m fine! Okay. I’m fucking tired, it’s been a long week. Let’s just… get another drink or something. Okay?”

Jensen didn’t mean for Dean to come out of his mouth then. It happens, but not usually in temper like that. Jared holds his hands up in surrender and lets Jensen walk past him, back to their group.

~~~

He’s on his knees, Demon Dean’s cock buried in his throat. It hurts, he can’t breathe, but it feels so good.

“Fuck, that’s it. Choke on it. Gonna get that throat all fucked out.”

Jensen moans and digs his fingers into Demon Dean’s hips.

“Gotta help you find Dean’s voice somehow. Know you’ve been having trouble with that.”

Demon Dean runs a hand through his hair as he says it and Jensen forgets to be offended.

“That’s it. That’s it. Pretty mouth on my cock. Just like it should be.”

~~~

Something isn’t right with Jensen. Everyone can see it. He’s just not present anymore. Not totally at least. He gives it his best on set, but he just can’t seem to find the right headspace anymore. Scenes that he would knock out in two takes, max., are taking six/seven/eight now.

Jared is beside himself with worry.

“Jensen, please. If you won’t talk to me, talk to someone, anyone. Please!”

“I’m fine, Jay.”

Weary smile. Tired eyes.

“Jensen. Is this about those dreams you were having?”

“No! Of course not. Anyway, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Jen…”

“Night, Jared.”

~~~

“I should just keep you here, Jensen. In your mind with me, all the time. Think how good it would be, nothing to worry about. Just pleasing me.”

“Please…”

“So fuckin’ pretty. Made to be laid out on silk sheets and just fucked . Over and over and over. This is where you should be.”

“Fuck…”

“Too much pressure out there. Acting, directing, managing your life. Wouldn’t you rather stay here, just us?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. With you.”

~~~

It comes to a head during the filming of ‘The Executioner’s Song’. An absolutely pivotal moment for Dean, and Jensen just cannot get his head in the game. Everyone is frustrated, including Jensen.

But as always, it’s Jared that breaks the spell in the end.

“C’mon, dude. Get it together. I’m sick of redoing this scene.”

It’s said with humour, but Jensen can hear the tension and frustration underneath.

The words spill out of him, without thought.

“I think I’m gonna quit…”

Jared just looks at him, slack-jawed. There’s silence for a minute. Thankfully they’re in a quiet corner of the set while the crew resets the equipment… again.

“What?”

It’s said so softly, Jensen almost doesn’t hear it.

“I think… I’m not cut out for this. I should quit. This isn’t what I should be doing.”

Jensen says it calmly, as if he’s pondering what to have for lunch. But when he looks at Jared again, he’s floored by what he sees.

Jared is crying. His eyes are full of tears, one is tracing its way down his cheek. He’s clenching his jaw, but Jensen can see the wobble. Jensen is reminded of filming ‘All Hell Breaks Loose Part II’, wiping away the stray tear that fell as Dean mourned Sam.

It’s like the fog lifts from Jensen’s eyes. He realises what he just said.

“Jared…”

He reaches out to touch his friend, but Jared turns and walks away without a word.

Jensen just watches, unable to move, as Jared goes to the crew and tells them he needs to go home. The director tries to beg Jared to stay, saying they’re already so behind schedule - a glance in Jensen’s direction at that. Jared is unmoved, though. Jensen hears him say that even if ‘he’ - meaning Jensen again, of course - can get it together, they won’t get anything usable from him today, and he’ll be back on set bright and early tomorrow to get it done.

Shame, hot and sick, fills Jensen. What has he done…

Jared has already left by the time Jensen gets his things together. The car that usually drives them both to and from set is waiting for him, though. Jared had said he was going to make his own way home. No one wanted to argue.

The ride home for Jensen is smothered in thick silence. Not even a goodbye is exchanged with the driver when they pull up outside Jensen’s apartment building.

What has he done…

What has he let himself become?

He spends the evening drinking bourbon from the bottle and stopping himself from calling Jared. Even with the early finish, it’s still late - by normal standards - and he’s tired from the day. The bourbon speeds the process along and it’s not long before his head is hitting the pillow.

Jensen is well into the dream before he realises this is one. It’s almost like lucid dreaming, these nightly visits with Demon Dean. But he’s never tried to control them, just takes what Demon Dean gives to him.

Tonight, though, tonight he sees through the veil. So to speak.

Demon Dean is above him, watching him with those blank, black eyes and that cold smile, distorted by the grimace of effort he’s putting into fucking Jensen as hard as he can. He’s got two fingers buried in Jensen’s mouth at the same time and he’s spouting the usual shit, but this time, Jensen knows it’s shit.

“God, wish I could fuck your mouth and cunt at the same time. Both so fucking tight and pretty.”

He thrusts deeply and Jensen groans around the fingers before spitting them out in disgust. Demon Dean doesn’t seem to notice.

“Fuckin’ perfect here, right where you’re meant to be, getting this tight hole fucked sloppy. Just what you’re good for.”

Jensen snaps, or breaks free. He’s not sure.

With a roar of anger, he bucks his hips upwards, uses the momentum to shove Demon Dean over onto his back. Jensen goes with him, ends up straddling his waist, feeling Demon Dean’s hard cock resting against his ass, no longer inside him.

With the demon beneath him, Jensen raises a fist to punch him, break his nose, his cheekbone, his jaw, anything. But those depthless black eyes and that cold fucking smirk stop him. Demon Dean would welcome the violence. Jensen is not a violent man, not unless he has to be.

He has to be here. Has to take back control in the only way Demon Dean understands.

He wraps his hand around the throat beneath him, squeezes just a little. Just to test.

“You fed my demons long enough. No more.”

The laugh that comes from below him is a little strained, a little wheezy. Jensen brings his other hand up, wraps them both around Demon Dean's neck, thumbs crossing over the Adam's apple.

“Fed your demons? Jensen, you created mine.”

Jensen squeezes. Hard. Tight. His arms shake with the effort. The face beneath him goes red, then purple. But the body never fights to break free. The hips under him squirm and thrust.

Tighter.

Harder.

Jensen is sure something is going to pop, unsure if it will be him.

Right as his arms are about to go limp, unable to hold the tension anymore, he feels the cock behind him twitch, kick and then shoot hot over his ass. When he looks into the face under him, the eyes appear to roll back.

But instead they just morph to green, the same green eyes he’s seen in the mirror every day of his life.

His hands fall from his own throat and the body under him takes a deep breath.

Not Demon Dean anymore, only Jensen.

Jensen wakes with a shout, his hips churning into the sheets and mattress below him, cock still spurting cum into his boxers.

He’s soaked in sweat and when he realises what woke him - strangling Demon Dean and watching him morph back into Jensen - he feels new cold sweat break out all over him.

Is it over? Is he free from Demon Dean’s spell?

He needs to call Jared…

But first, where did he put those new sheets?

#supernatural #fanfic #jacklesversebingo23 #jensen ackles #dean winchester #demon!dean x jensen #spn fanfic #spn rpf #crossover #dean winchester x jensen ackles #demon dean #jackles #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut #demon!dean #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #spn #ao3 fanfic

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sasterisk · 5 months ago

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Why do you love Suitloon so much? Also can you make more art of them thank you...

I am SO GLAD YOU ASKED I will now be explaining why I adore Suitloon. (This is gonna get long)

During my first viewing of Season 2, I was absolutely hooked on Suitcase! I related to her a lot, being in middle school at the time I was figuring out life, and being a student with ADHD made me feel out of place and like others were taking advantage of me at times. I also related a lot to Balloon, as I was trying to prove myself to a strictly education-focused mother, it felt like I was nothing but a slacker in her mind, much like how Nickel views Balloon during season 2.

Besides my own relation to these characters, I'd like to talk about what happens in the show itself to solidify my adoration of Suitloon as a ship both platonic and romantic: (I know that Balloon is on the aro-ace spectrum, but I was shipping them before that was said. Objects in object shows having "sexualities" involving sex is a debatable thing as these are kids shows and I've had many debates with online friends on if objects would even have the... ahem... anatomy, let alone a sex drive OR the social idea of gender and sex existing within the object show universes. Do what you will, I see Balloon as demiromantic and Suitloon is bi4bi.)

Name a pair of characters in this show that are more devoted to each other and willing to sacrifice themselves for the other, I can't think of any, I find that Suitcase and Balloon are so intertwined with each other and that they truly and deeply care about each other.

Evidence of this devotion and sacrifice? I gotcha...

The elimination scene of Episode 11: Balloon knew how everyone would vote, seeing Suitcase being fed up with how Nickel treated them, and voted for himself to make it look like he voted for Nickel, and Suitcase voted for him, protecting her place in the alliance while sacrificing his place in the game. Suitcase, however, finally stands up for herself, calling out Nickels unjust behavior towards the both of them and sacrificing her place in the alliance to vouch for Balloons good character.

It's important to remember that Suitcase was friends with Balloon throughout the whole of the show! I don't see her being too socially unaware, she knew that everyone thought Balloon was a horrible person, especially two of her other friends Nickel and Baseball. She also expressed some skepticism of Balloon in Episode 6, over his previous manipulation in season 1, which they HEALTHILY COMMUNICATE ABOUT *cough* Nickel learn something here pls *cough*, and in Episode 10 her anxiety/hallucinations question which of her bonds are solid or hollow. Despite this, she CHOOSES to be close with Balloon because she genuinely cares about him, sacrificing her social stance to the other contestants AND taking a risk in trusting him at first, before they form a very solid bond.

[NOT CANON] Meanwhile, Balloon is also not socially unaware, he knows everyone hates him, and while being friends with Suitcase, I like to imagine he would think "I should stop associating with her so that she doesn't suffer the other contestants judgement."

Rain On Your Charade. That whole scene, enough said.

5. Mazed and Confused, especially this scene:

6. Mazed and Confused part 2:

Theres many other instances that show their devotion to each other as well, but these are a few of the most important and my favorite ones!

Overall, the main reason why I love Suitloon is the raw devotion they have for each other in the face of adversity. Suitcases story is one of overcoming social pressure and anxiety, learning when and how to stand up for both herself and for someone she cares about. Balloons story is learning when the approval and judgement of others matters, as well as finding people who genuinely care about him and learning how important these people are. These stories intertwine in a very natural and believable way and make these two feel destined to be together in the end, whether that's platonic or romantic.

I also find it important to bring up this chart:

Basically, Nickel is the ringleader, Baseball is a reinforcer/outsider, Suitcase is a defender, and Balloon is the target. The rest of the II cast fall between reinforcers, outsiders, and assistants. The way Nickel treats Balloon is textbook bullying, not one other person stands up for Balloon publicly, and Suitcase is doing the right thing standing up for him.

Theres also A BUNCH of other reasons I love this ship that have to do with my own preferences,

Friends to Lovers > Enemies to Lovers sorry Nickloon fans.

Its got a "Romeo and Juliet" kind of dynamic with how Nickel and Baseball play into the situation

The Nickel-Suitcase-Balloon dynamic reeks of "overprotective father hating his daughters boyfriend" as well (like hotel transylvania type shit)

Their dynamic is sickly sweet they are so cute oh my god

While on Instagram and Wattpad in yee olden days (2017-2020) I got a bit of a reputation for being a Suitloon fanatic and played into it, I was dubbed "The Queen of Suitloon" for a moment. It gave me a place in the fandom, and I cherish my time there greatly.

TLDR: Suitcase and Balloon are devoted to each other and that's why I love them so much.

And yes I will make more art with them eventually :P

#sasterrambles #suitloon #inanimate insanity #suitcase x balloon #balloon ii #ii balloon #suitcase ii #ii suitcase #inanimate insanity 2 #ii grand slams #object shows #osc #in case it wasnt obvious I don't mind other suitcase and balloon ships #I just really like unrequited nickcase (see Burst chapter 25)

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gogglor · 3 years ago

Text

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

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eyessharpweaponshot · 4 years ago

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hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #fic recommendations #jensfic #eyessharpweaponshot #wonderful writers #wonderful fics

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carelessannie · 4 years ago

Text

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 8)

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory

Word count: 10.1K

Starker, WinterSpider, SpiderShield, Peter x Clint x OFC

Peter’s POV -> it’s been a rough semester, and pack related stress isn’t making anything easier. Maybe a packmate (or the whole pack) can help him out?

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, explicit d/s abo smut, femdom, edging, face-sitting, come eating, uhhh light CBT and hair pulling, light bondage, subdrop, and non-apologetic long discussions of sex-ed

---

Maybe it goes like this:

There’s only a few weeks until finals, and of course this is when the pack has decided to move forward with officially mating and bonding. It’s not like Peter wants to postpone it, per se— it’s just, there’s so many steps involved with combining packs, and Peter can’t deal with dividing his attention between home and school.

And the lab. Dammit.

Until the end of their lease, his pack is living at their apartment during the week and at Tony’s place over the weekend. The whole upstairs of their house was built with bedroom suites, so each of them not only get a room of their own, but they have also built a makeshift nest upstairs that’s separate from Bucky’s nest downstairs. It’s been an easy transition this way— taking claim of a part of Tony’s home before a more intimate bond takes place— but Peter feels more and more stressed out as the weeks pass.

Currently, he’s staring at a screen in the lab, failing to comprehend any of the information in front of him. Over winter break, Peter was moved to a permanent position in a lab away from Tony. Pepper had insisted on it since they started getting serious, and Peter agreed. It was unprofessional to do that much cuddling at work.

The one downside now is that work has become mind-numbingly boring for most of the day. After this semester, Peter can transfer back to working in chemical engineering, or mechanics. Or even robotics. And after spending the last few months in software development and computer science, Peter is so ready for the change.

He checks the clock for the third time in the last five minutes. Still four o’clock. Still the same information in front of him.

If he squints hard enough, the code on his computer looks like Hieroglyphics.

“To- neeeey,” he whines, turning fully to face the Beta, “thank god, I’m dying. I can’t go on.”

There are a few snickers from other scientists in the lab, but Peter could care less as he watches Tony’s face crumble, “Oh sweet baby, come here,” and he opens his arms, pulling Peter in for a hug.

It only lasts a few moments, but Peter absorbs as much of Tony’s scent as he can while the Beta rocks him back and forth, stroking down his back and kissing whispered reassurances into his hair. He holds onto Tony’s tie, using it as leverage to stand up and nose around his collarbone.

Tony laughs and murmurs, “That tickles, Pete,” but Peter ignores him, dotting small kisses up the side up his neck until he can smell HappyArousedCalm coming off of his Beta.

There’s a hitch in Tony’s breath after Peter nibbles on his pulse point, “Need something from me, Omega?”

Peter hums, even as Tony pulls away slightly, “Yes, Beta,” he pauses as Tony tilts his head expectantly, “I need you to take me home.”

He watches Tony laugh, stepping back and looping an arm over Peter’s shoulders, before calling out to the room, vaguely, “Whoever’s in charge here, I’m taking him home. Because I’m actually in charge here. Okay— have a good weekend, goodbye.”

He’s towed away, barely sparing a second to grab his phone and shut down his station. They practically run out of the building— holding hands and laughing wildly as they throw their jackets into the back of Tony’s car and jump in the front seats.

“So— what are we doing with the long weekend, Tony?”

Tony starts the car, pulling out into the city, “I thought we’d go out for dinner and spend the evening in with our pack— how does that sound?”

“ Ooo,” Peter claps his hands, “that sounds perfect, Tony, oh my goodness. What do you have in mind?”

“How does seafood sound? I have a place I’ve been dying to take you.”

Peter turns, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm, “Where? Tony, where are we going?”

“Nope, not this time,” Tony shakes his head, weak, “it’s gonna be a surprise, dammit.”

“I’ll get it out of you— no secret is safe around me, Tony Stark.”

He winks and blows a kiss when Tony looks over, and the man looks terrified. Peter laughs, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of the center console and reclining back in the seat. It’s a little chilly still in early April, but the change of season means more sun, and the Omega is happy to roll up his dress shirt sleeves and bask in it like a pampered cat.

The drive passes comfortably and Peter adores sitting next to his handsome Beta— the whole world seeing that Tony is spoken for and claimed by the young Omega on his arm. Peter never thought he’d want to be a trophy Omega— and, technically, he isn’t— but something about being pampered and loved by the most powerful man in New York City has him preening where he sits.

He’s thankful the windows are down, or Tony would be able to smell it on him.

They pull around 59th and up to the curb across from Central Park. Tony exits the driver’s side, throws his keys to a waiting driver, and rounds the car to open Peter’s door. He steps out and grabs their jackets from the back seat, handing over Tony’s as the two of them link arms and hop onto the sidewalk.

“Where to, Tony?” he blinks up at his date, smiling innocently.

Tony hums, distracted, “Marea, just through the—”

“— Aha! —”

“— dammit! No! That doesn’t count!”

“Yes it does! I win,” Peter skips forward, doing a little dance in victory.

He feels Tony catch him around the waist, nuzzling into his neck, and knows the Beta is enjoying his HappyOmega scent. The two of them joke and tease for the rest of the walk into the restaurant, but Peter notices something as they walk through the door to be seated.

“Uh, Tony?”

“Yeah, Pete?”

“Where is everyone?” he asks, gesturing around the empty room.

Tony looks around and gives him a suspiciously innocent face, “Well... they may not be open, officially, for another hour.”

He tries to pull them further into the room, but Peter is frozen— speechless.

“Don’t give me that look, baby, I made some calls today and everything’s set, I’m paying for the extra hour, the service and the meals—”

“Tony,”

“— and even extra for the inconvenience, okay? I just wanted to treat you—”

Peter grabs his shirt collar, shutting him up with a kiss. Tony inhales against Peter’s lips and immediately takes control, snaking his hands up into Peter’s hair and pulling gently, tipping his head back to deepen the kiss. Their lips move together, perfectly synchronized, and Peter opens his mouth in an invitation. Tony just chuckles— briefly licking underneath his upper lip before pulling away and looking at Peter with a mixture of awe and amusement.

“You never have to justify treating me, Tony. I feel so special when you do,” Peter reaches up to brush his fingers through Tony’s short hair, feeling safe and warm in his hold.

The older man just grins, eyes bright, and leads them to their seats. Right in the center of the Ravello Room, their table has been set and lit with candles— a bottle of wine is chilling in an ice bath, and the maître d' stands nearby, greeting them and explaining the menu for the afternoon.

When she walks away, Tony reaches over and grabs Peter’s hand. They sit like this through the first two courses, and Peter’s content to share each of them with Tony, even if that means being basically hand fed by his boyfriend.

And it’s pretty hard to hand feed someone oysters.

The food is incredible, though, and their conversation is even better. Peter tries not to complain about work and school, but even when he inevitably does, Tony is patient and listens. He asks questions when necessary, and they even work through a few solutions to tougher problems together.

“I guess... I wish a few of the things with our pack were more definite,” Peter picks at his meal, separating the shrimp from the pasta.

“What do you mean, baby?” Tony asks, reaching over to steal a piece of shrimp.

Peter tries to defend his plate, jabbing at Tony’s hand with his fork, but misses. His pout deepens, “I dunno. I wish it wasn’t still up in the air who’s going to bond. I wish I knew how synchronizing goes, with our heats. I wish there was more communication about sex, and scenes, and who’s comfortable with what. I wish I knew the timeline,” he shakes his head, finally putting his fork down, “I don’t know, Tony, it just feels so out of control most of the time, I don’t know how to handle it.”

“I don’t think you can control it, sweetheart. There are six different people in this pack, and fifteen different individual relationships. Plus, two unique pack dynamics that need to merge. It’s uncomfortable, Petey, and it’s gonna take time.”

“I know that, Tony, it’s just… I’m supposed to be the center of this pack, and some days I don’t even know if you want to bond with me, so how—”

“I do.”

“— am I… what?”

“I do want to bond with you. God, I want nothing more in the world,” Tony reaches up to cup his cheek, “I can’t believe you doubted that, Peter. You know I love you, right?”

“I… I don’t…”

Tony’s eyes start to tear up, and he looks absolutely devastated, “I’m so sorry, baby. Dammit— I love you. I am completely gone on you. Every day I have to stop myself from keeping you all to myself; running away and starting a familial pack, just the two of us. There are so many steps: mating and bonding and collaring and marrying, and Peter— I want them all with you.”

Peter’s vision is blurry, tears falling freely as he frantically tries to wipe them away, “Tony, I— I had no idea. You never… we didn’t… I just assumed that we were getting there, you know? I’ve never been in love before, Tony—”

“It’s okay, Peter, you don’t have to—”

“— but I am in love with you. God, we’re stupid, aren’t we?” both of them laugh, wet and joyful, “everything’s just so confusing right now.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Tony coos, pulling on Peter’s wrist until he’s up, out of his seat, and moving to sit across Tony’s lap. He loves that when he sits like this and curls up, his head fits perfectly under Tony’s chin, and his mate’s arms wrap soundly around his waist.

“Da— Tony,” Peter whines, barely catching the slip up— not time for that conversation yet, Pete— as Tony holds him tighter.

“Need me to help you, baby?” Tony murmurs right next to his ear, making him shiver, “you know, you don’t have to do it all alone.”

“I know— Steve is supposed to help—”

“Not just Steve,” Tony grips his arms, looking him in the eye, “all of us. Especially me. I want to help you. Will you let me?”

It’s a heavy question, Peter knows. He knows that he needs help— but trusting someone else to do the work and do it right… only Clint, Annie and May are close enough for that. And barely so. It takes a lot for Peter to trust, it’s uncomfortable. But if he claims to love Tony—

“Yes, Beta. I need— I need your help.”

The restaurant around them is forgotten as Tony whispers, “Good boy,” and Peter starts to float, only tethered down by the warmth of his mate’s arms, the scent of Cinnamon and smoky Bonfires holding him together.

“Eat this, baby,” and he opens his mouth, biting down obediently. It’s chocolatey and creamy and crunchy— he has to focus on chewing, and Tony’s fingers around his mouth and on his arms are helping to pull him back up. “Stay up for me, Peter. I’m gonna talk and then we’ll have a conversation, baby.”

Peter finds himself switching focus between eating the dessert and following Tony’s story about… his mom? And a secret hideout?

“— mom could never find me, but, I don’t know, I don’t think she ever tried, you know? It wasn’t that hard to find.”

“She probably knew and just wanted you to have a place to yourself,” Peter mumbles into Tony’s neck.

Tony pulls him away, holding him at arm’s length and looking into his eyes for a long moment.

“You up, Pete? Ready to talk?” he asks, and Peter nods, moving to get off Tony’s lap. The older Beta lets him, and Tony stands up to move their chairs closer together. When Peter sits down, Tony immediately takes his hand and continues eating like nothing happened.

“Okay— I’m gonna start. First, we need to talk about your pack Pete. I know Bucky’s gonna want to bond with everyone, he’s told me as much, but especially you and Annie need to decide who you’re bonding with. Have you talked to Steve at all about it?”

“Yes, we’ve been going on dates, and... everything is so natural with Steve, which I guess makes sense since we’re so compatible,” he pauses, thoughtful, “I think I want to bond with everyone, too. I can’t speak for Annie, but I think you and Steve are the only ones who she’s hesitant about.”

“I get that. Have the three of you talked about going to the O clinic?”

Peter gives an affirmative hum, “Yes, but Tony… I don’t think Bucky’s ever been. I mentioned going together, and he looked so confused.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Tony chuckles to himself, eating the last bit of his mousse and wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I’ve never seen him go to an Omega doctor… I think he’s had a semi-permanent suppressant implant since he presented.”

“Well, yes. I do, too, but hasn’t he been sexually active with multiple partners for like… years? You’re saying he’s never had a pregnancy scare? Never had an internal exam or pap—”

“Uh… I don’t—”

“What about an STD test, Tony? Have any of you guys ever been tested? I swear, what on earth were you doing before us—”

“Okay, okay— to be fair, it’s worked so far. And Steve makes us all go to our primary care and the dentist once a year. It’s like… hell week. When all of us have appointments.”

Peter buries his face in his arms, groaning at the utter idiocy of his future bondmates, “Thank god I met you, Tony. You guys are worse than Clint,” he laughs a little bit, picking up his head and glancing over at his properly chastised boyfriend.

Reaching out, he gives Tony a boop on the nose, startling him out of his sad expression, “I’ll talk to Bucky, okay? Annie and I are going to the O clinic next week, and we’ll help him make an appointment. They’re flexible about pack stuff, I think. And… I guess we’ll talk to the doctor about the steps we need to take to bond.”

Tony makes a flicking motion with his hand, and Peter sees the maître d' walk across the room and silently collect the black card Tony hands her.

“Sounds good. Let’s talk about the rest on the way back, okay? I’m gonna call Steve and see if he wants us to pick them up anything to eat.”

While Tony makes the call, Peter thinks through a few of the questions he has. He’s thankful for their overall dynamic and compatibility, but there are so many variables and unspoken limits—

“Tony?” Peter tries to interrupt, tapping on his arm, “hey, Tony? Can I talk to Steve?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Tony responds, turning back to the call, “yeah, Steve? Peter wants to talk to you… okay, okay here he is,” Tony hands over the phone with a brief, “here ya go, baby.”

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hi sweetheart! What’s going on?” Steve sounds like he’s in the car, probably heading home from work.

Peter glances at Tony’s questioning expression before answering Steve, “Nothing bad, Alpha, no worries,” he ducks his head, a little embarrassed at his small smile. The low rumbly voice hasn’t failed to affect him yet, “I’m wondering if we could have a talk tonight. You know, as a pack.”

“Of course, Peter. What do you want to talk about?”

“I think we need to discuss sex,” Peter says, bluntly, and has to keep himself from laughing as Tony’s eyes almost pop out of his head, “specifically, we need to talk about scenes and dynamics— especially before everyone bonds this summer.”

He hears Steve clear his throat before responding, “O— okay, sweetheart. We can do that. Do you feel comfortable leading this conversation tonight?”

“Yes, Alpha, I’d like that.”

“Okay, thank you for bringing this up, Peter. Bucky mentioned something similar this week, but I just haven’t thought too much about it. You’re stepping into this role so beautifully, Peter, and I’m constantly awed by you.”

“Oh— well...” Peter feels his face flame red, and he puts a hand up to hide from Tony, “th— thank you, Alpha.”

Steve laughs— a low, rumbling sound even over the phone, “You deserve it, sweet Omega. Let me talk to Tony, and I’ll see you tonight.”

Peter mumbles his goodbye and basically throws the phone back to Tony, who takes it with a curious look, “What did you say to him, Alpha? He smells so sweet… oh, really? Mhm… I know he is, he’s my soulmate, Steve…”

After that, Peter tunes out the conversation and hides his face in his hands. These doms are really trying to kill him with the constant praise. They haven’t even had a proper scene together— he hasn’t even kissed Steve, for goodness sake— and they are already onto the things that make him tick. Is he really that transparent?

On the way back home, Tony stops briefly to pick up a take-out order of Chinese food. They don’t talk about the pack again— but it’s okay. Peter feels like everything that needs to be said will be brought up tonight.

---

One of his favorite things about their combined pack is spending evenings together. All six packmates sit in the living room, eating take-out and sharing quiet conversation. Every so often, an innocent argument will break out— usually between Tony and Clint— and the volume level will raise. But for the most part, all of them are content to touch, and eat, and snuggle in close stillness.

“Did Bucky pick out these couches?” Annie asks, sitting on the loveseat with Steve while the other four packmates squish together on the larger couch. She keeps grabbing his muscles, and Peter can tell their Alpha loves showing off for the pretty Omega.

Bucky is sitting on the floor, leaning back in between Tony’s legs. Both Betas have an arm around Peter, and he sits in the middle of them on the couch, reaching over every so often to play with Bucky’s hair.

The question makes Bucky look up, jostling the couch behind him and almost overturning Clint’s bowl.

Tony answers first, “Kind of. We all picked out the furniture together, but Bucky did have the final say.”

“Damn right I did,” Bucky says around a mouthful of noodles, “gotta be comfy for the whole pack. Tony wanted these ugly leather things,”

“Hey! They were tasteful—”

“— I’d rather sit on a concrete slab, Tony, they were so bad—”

“Steve, you liked the leather couches, right?” Tony tries to get the Alpha’s support,

“Uh,” Steve looks between his packmates, “I liked them until Bucky vetoed.”

Bucky lets out a whoop! in victory, and both Clint and Annie dissolve into laughter as Tony sinks back into the couch, pulling Peter in close for comfort.

Tony turns to Peter, “You like my couches, don’t you, baby?”

Shifting to face the Beta, Peter makes a small cooing noise while reaching up to stroke his hair, “I love you, Tony— but I’m on Bucky’s side. I like these ones.”

With a gasp, Tony practically dumps Peter off the couch, “Betrayal! My own mate betrays me!”

Bucky finishes pulling him off the couch, hauling the smaller Omega into his lap with a greasy kiss on the cheek. Peter can’t help but giggle as his Beta pouts and lets Clint pull him in for a hug, whispering to Tony that no, leather couches actually sound fuckin’ awesome.

Peter turns sideways, looping his arms around Bucky’s waist and tangling their legs together as Bucky continues to eat. He feels a familiar hand in his hair and hums, happy to have Tony’s touch back, even if it’s reluctant.

After another half an hour, Annie and Steve get up to clear the dishes, talking softly and spending a few extra minutes in the kitchen cleaning up. Peter takes this as his cue to start their conversation. He moves to a large, chaise barrel chair, facing the couches, and waits for everyone to grab their drinks and settle down.

When Steve walks back in the room, Peter extends his hand— an invitation that the Alpha takes and gently rearranges them to sit together on the sofa. He watches as Clint opens his arms and Annie runs to join the rest of the pack on the long couch.

The room gradually quiets down, and Steve clears his throat, getting their attention. Peter gives him a quick peck on the cheek and addresses their pack, “So I realized today, while I was talking to Tony, that we should probably have a serious talk about sex before moving in together and bonding, uh... forever.”

A few of them chuckle, but the room feels uncomfortable. Peter looks to Steve for help,

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be important that we have open communication about this,” Steve continues, “especially ‘cause our separate packs already have established dynamics and such. Uh,” he looks at Peter, shrugging, “maybe it would be easiest to talk now about personal preferences for scenes, and later we can share official limits? I have paperwork!”

Both Bucky and Clint groan— causing Steve to roll his eyes— but Tony interjects, giving Peter a secret wink, “Should we update our existing papers, Steve, or just use the old ones?”

“Probably update them. I assume you guys have your own contracts, right?” he asks, turning to Peter.

“Yes, but it’s mostly non-intimate stuff. We only scene if I really need to go down, and we rarely do intimate scenes,” both Clint and Annie nod in agreement, “Oh! Plus we’ll need to talk about heats, too.”

“Have y’all hadda heat together yet?” Bucky asks, motioning toward Annie and Peter.

Annie answers, “No, we’ve both been on suppressants since before we met. I only had three heats before I went on them.”

“I only had one— I presented late,” Peter adds,

Bucky nods, “Okay, yeah I only had one in high school.”

“And none of you have shared a heat with someone before?” Tony asks, giving Bucky’s shoulders a squeeze.

There’s a resounding no from all the Omegas, and Steve lets out a long exhale, “Are you guys plannin’ on goin’ to the Omega clinic?”

“Yeah,” Annie confirms, “we have an appointment on Monday.”

Peter looks over at Bucky who’s looking back at him with wide, uncertain eyes, “Can you come with us, Bucky? That way we can talk to the doctor together.”

“Yeah, I’ve just… I’ve never—”

“It’s okay,” Peter stops him, “we’ll do it together.”

Tony reaches down and pulls Bucky up by the armpits, earning a squawk of surprise as he’s wrestled into Tony’s lap. Everyone laughs a bit as Bucky struggles and eventually submits to Tony’s hold on his waist, relaxing with a sigh.

The rest of the conversation is awkward, but easy. Each of them talk a little bit about their orientation and what they prefer in their current pack dynamics. For Peter, it’s interesting to hear from his Versatile packmates about their experiences swinging dominant and submissive. Bucky has spent almost six years being Steve’s submissive and three years submitting to both his Alpha and Beta, so it’s uncomfortable and different for him to be dominant in a relationship, since he’s never had to dominante a partner before.

In contrast, both Annie and Clint have experiences swinging both ways in their relationship with each other and with Peter. Clint has reservations about permanently swinging dominant, because of his past with abusive dominants, and similarly doesn’t want to swing permanently submissive. Annie feels comfortable both ways, which is something Peter already knew. She is very vocal about her preferences.

Peter shares about what it’s like to be a SubOmega, and his preferences during a scene— which, at this point, are very few. He lost his virginity to Clint and Annie, and has never taken a knot before. He smells SmugHornyAlpha coming off of Steve after this confession, and giggles slightly as Steve shamefully apologizes.

Steve and Tony both keep their time short. Peter knows a bit about Tony’s past, and knows he’s been in an intimate and unique familial pack before. Steve and Bucky have both been in other relationships, but only Steve was sexually active before they officially got together.

Possibly the most interesting part of the conversation is learning about how Steve and Tony balance being Dominant over the same Submissive.

“I think the most important part is to realize that Dominant, Submissive, or Versatile, the purpose of our orientation is all the same: service to others,” Steve explains, holding Peter tight around the waist, “so whether it’s five Doms and one Sub in a room, or a balanced pairing— Tony, Bucky, and I have all decided to love and serve each other. To put one another first. And because of this, our scenes are always fun and satisfying.”

“Ya soun’ like ‘n infomercial, Stevie,” Bucky mumbles, eyes blinking slowly— dangerously close to sleep.

“Shaddup, jerk— you know it’s true. Our scenes always build trust and support between us. And that’s what I want for our intimate pack.”

A few voices hum their agreement, but with a glance around the room, Peter realizes most of them are falling asleep. He yawns and pulls on Steve’s sleeve, getting his attention.

“Alpha, can we finish this later?”

Steve hums, distracted, and then suddenly focuses, his hum shifting— changing to a deep, rumbling growl. It startles Peter into looking up, and the Alpha’s eyes are half-lidded, dark and intense. Peter’s breath picks up. He watches as Steve moves closer, reeling him in, and leans to press his nose against the base of Peter’s throat.

Peter keens, and lets his body go limp in the strong, safe arms of his Alpha. He feels each of their breaths align, he feels their hearts beat together. He’s not sure what he smells like right now, but assumes it compliments Steve’s ProudContentStrongAlpha scent pretty well.

It doesn’t matter, though, because there’s a cloud at his back.

Gentle fingers run through his hair.

He feels the shuffle of clothes against his skin.

Floating, weightless.

---

It’s light when he wakes up again, surrounded by warmth and the sound of gentle snoring. He knows who he wishes were next to him, breathing into his neck. Drooling down his neck.

“Clint, my god,” Peter pushes at the big Beta, trying to get him to roll over, but only gets a loud snore in response.

He flops back down and tries to scoot the other way, happy to burrow into Annie’s soft curves, trailing his freezing fingertips up her hips and underneath her t-shirt—

She gasps awake, “Peter! Dammit!” and tries to squirm away from him as he cackles, waking Clint up with a snort.

“Wha— what,” Clint flails around, aimless, as Annie shoves Peter his way. One of his arms catches Peter across the back of the head, and the small Omega yelps in pain.

“Ouch, Clint. The hell?”

“Aw, poor baby,” Annie coos, pulling Peter into an octopus embrace and incidentally shoving his face right in between her breasts, “I’ll make it better.”

Mngh mmngh mngghh, Peter tries to beg Annie, and she finally releases him to heave a deep breath of relief, “You trying to kill me, woman?”

“No, Petey, just suffocate you a little bit.” Annie gives him a shark’s grin and starts to crawl towards him on her knees. He retreats, scrambling backwards until his back hits Clint’s chest and the Beta pulls his arms behind his back, holding him still.

Peter struggles, grunting, “Hey! What is this? Let me go, Clint,” but there’s no mercy as Annie finally reaches him, kneeling between his legs and leaning forward to kiss his nose.

“Wanna play, bunny?” she purrs, trailing a finger down his chest, clothed in a loose t-shirt, down to the waistband of his tight, black briefs. He can’t take his eyes off her face, and finds himself nodding in a daze, entranced by her wicked smile.

She looks over his shoulder and tilts her head at Clint, and he stutters, “P— please, Omega,” the desperation in his tone making Peter tremble.

“Good boy, birdy,” Annie mocks him, reaching around Peter to run a hand up Clint’s thigh and settling over his boxers, in between where he’s pressed up against Peter’s ass. She crawls a little closer, grabbing Peter’s chin and tipping his head up to look at her, “gimme a color, little bunny. Want me to make you both feel good— use his body to make you come?”

Peter struggles to blink, and his sight goes crossed for a second as he mewls, “Green, Omega.”

She keeps eye contact with Peter and asks Clint, “How about you, baby bird? Gonna keep you on edge, share your body with our sweet bunny, and control your pleasure. Color?”

Clint is physically shaking behind him, and he barely whispers, “Green, Omega, please,” before Annie is encouraging him to lean back against the headboard, shifting to hold Peter’s arms even further behind his back.

His Omega grabs him around the hips, and uses her knees to keep his legs spread.

“Strip him, birdy.”

The command is sharp and has Clint moving instantly, yanking Peter’s shirt up over his chest, and effortlessly moving his arms and legs to pull the shirt and his briefs off completely. Peter doesn’t have a moment to shy away from his Omega’s stare, because his arms are restrained again and she’s spreading his legs wide.

Clint’s breathing heavy on the back of his neck, and he can feel the Beta’s hardness pressed up against his back through the thin layer of boxer shorts, rutting against him lightly.

It seems that his Omega knows this, because she orders Clint’s clothes off next. Once they’re naked and rearranged to her liking, she runs a finger down Peter’s waist, scratching gently through the sparse hair above his cock, and feels underneath his balls, humming thoughtfully at the mess of slick she finds there.

He squirms as her small fingers trace around his rim, panting and throwing his head back at the tease. He hears her laugh and tries to hide his face in Clint’s neck, instead getting a whiff of HornyDesperateBeta scent from his mate.

His Omega dips the tip of one finger into his hole, up to the first knuckle.

“Play with his little titties, birdy,” she instructs, and immediately Clint readjusts his grip on Peter’s arms so that he can pinch and tug on the smaller man’s nipples.

“Oh, dammit, Omega more, please,” he begs, bucking into the torture across his sensitive chest and grinding down onto the finger inside of him.

“Patient, sweet bunny,” she shushes, pulling her finger out and swiping three of them through the slick leaking out of him. She lifts up her hand, acting surprised, “wow, feeling needy, little bunny rabbit? How about a taste?”

He nods his head yes, opening his mouth wide, but his Omega just shakes her head with a fake, sad pout, “Aw, baby— not for you,” and he watches as she reaches over, and—

— and feeds his slick, finger by finger, into Clint’s open mouth.

“That’s my good baby bird,” she coos, pushing her fingers in and slowly fucking his face with her hand. His eyes close in pleasure as he sucks desperately, eager to get all of Peter’s taste off of her fingers.

Peter whines as Clint pinches his nipple a little too hard, and his Omega turns her attention back to him.

“Hungry, baby bunny? Need something in your mouth?”

“Yes, Omega, please— anything, ‘m so empty—” he begs, and his Omega shushes him.

“Put your fingers in his mouth, birdy. I’m gonna put him on your cock.”

Both of them groan at her words, and he can feel Clint twitch against his back. The Beta reaches up and hooks two fingers into the side of his mouth, pulling slightly and forcing his head to tip backwards. He releases Peter’s arms and uses his left hand to flick across his nipples. Peter grabs at his thighs, desperate for control.

His Omega uses the distraction to work a second finger back into his hole, twisting and scissoring until Peter is grinding down, rhythmically, against her hand. His tiny, Omega cock is rock hard, and Clint has started alternating between flicking his nipples and his cockhead, making him cry out in torment.

She adds a third, and he begs around Clint’s fingers, “Oh— Omega, I can’t, please. Please, I need. I need—”

“Hush, baby bunny,” she shushes him, and Clint pushes his fingers deeper into Peter’s mouth, giving his cock a pinch with his other hand. Their Omega wipes away a few of his tears and pulls her fingers free, “why don’t you lift up, bunny?”

It’s torture. He can barely move, and his arms are trembling where they hold onto Clint’s thighs. After trying twice and failing to pick himself up, tears are flowing freely from his eyes and he looks to his Omega, blubbering, “I— I can’t,” sobs, “O— omega, please, I can’t!”

“Help him, birdy,” she instructs, leaning back to watch as Clint moves his hands down, cups under his ass, and effortlessly lifts him up. He cries harder, humiliated, as he feels Clint’s cock line up with his fluttering, empty hole.

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, and he realizes his Omega is waiting for something. He blinks through his tears, opening and closing his mouth— unsure of what she wants.

He must make a sad noise, because she’s quick to repeat, “It’s ok, Peter. Can you give me a color?”

Oh, okay. “Green, ‘mega,” he slurs, trying to give her a reassuring smile, and hears Clint whisper his agreement.

“Good boys, so good for me. Alright, birdy— you can lower him. Slowly.”

Peter lets his body go limp, helpless, as he’s worked slowly onto Clint’s cock. He feels every inch as his body is split in half for his Omega’s pleasure. For his pleasure.

Clint is shaking and panting, whimpering cries of please, Omega and holy fuck.

After a few long, agonizing moments, Peter is fully settled into Clint’s lap. The Beta is still cursing, and moves his hands from Peter’s hips to underneath his knees, pulling his legs back and exposing him wide.

“Fuck, Petey, how are you so fuckin’ tight, my god,” Clint breaths into his neck, and Peter rests his head back against the larger man’s shoulder, relaxing in his arms.

He feels a hand stroke up his tummy, and across his chest. His arms are moved again and settled onto the top of the headboard with a command of, “hold on tight, bunny.”

All of his focus is on obeying the command, so he almost misses his Omega’s next instructions—

“Baby bunny— you can come as many times as you’d like—”

— Peter whines in relief—

“— and baby bird, you can fuck him now,” Clint sighs, “but don’t you dare come, do you understand me?”

“Fuck, holy shit—” Clint curses, “green, Omega. Green, oh my god.”

The first thrust takes him by surprise. It’s almost like a levee breaks, something that was holding Clint’s hips back, and he pulls Peter up by his knees— like a fucking cocksleeve— and slams him back down on his cock with a howl.

All Peter can do is hold on as Clint begins an unforgiving pace, chasing his own pleasure. He feels the hands on his skin, the praises rolling over him, and he tries to say something but can’t, buried under pleasure and praise and—

— and he almost loses his grip on the headboard as his orgasm shakes through him. His lips open and close in a wordless plea as he clenches down on the thick cock still hammering into his hole, slapping wet against his ass.

His Omega moans her encouragement, “Fuck, baby, so good for me. Come for me baby bunny, so pretty, so good,” and he faintly feels her lips, her tongue, tracing around his cock and cleaning up the clear cum pouring out.

“Shit, Omega, I’m— I’m close, fuck,” Clint curses, still moving inside Peter even as he starts to shake from overstimulation.

“Absolutely not,” their Omega commands, standing up on the bed to move them. Clint drops Peter with a heave, both of them groaning as he bottoms out, and their Omega carefully moves his hands off the headboard, setting them back on Clint’s hips. She looks down into Peter’s eyes and then into Clint’s, “two more orgasms, birdy. Two more times— either me or him— and I’ll let you come.”

She kicks a leg over, stradling Clint’s face, and Peter realizes that at some point she took her panties off but left her shirt on. She’s beautiful, and he tries to say as much. Sadly, it just comes out as a choked gasp.

Clint’s pleas turn into moans as their Omega settles on his face, grinding down against his mouth with a firm grip in his hair. Using him. Clint flails, grabbing at Peter’s knees, and picks up where he left off, lifting him up and dropping him fully onto his cock, over and over.

Peter struggles to keep his eyes open, staring up at the vision of Clint licking, hungry into his Omega, but spiraling quickly, floating higher as he feels his orgasm build again.

Knock, knock.

“Fuck!” his Omega curses, and slaps Clint’s shoulder when he slows his pace, “keep going, they’ll go away.”

Clint hums and picks up his pace when—

Knock, knock, knock.

“Dammit,” their Omega jumps off of Clint’s face and looks into his eyes, “keep fucking him. There’s a reward in it for you if he comes before I get back,” and she jumps off the bed, grabbing a pair of their boxers on the way.

Clint resumes his pace, gathering both of Peter’s legs together in one of his long arms and using his free hand to turn Peter’s face, capturing his lips in a wet, sloppy kiss. Peter can taste their Omega on his lips, and suddenly his orgasm is right there.

“Clin’ oh, uh, uh, ‘m gonna,” he tries to warn, but it more or less comes out as a high pitched squeal.

“Yeah, pretty Omega, come on. Come for me. Come on Peter, give it to me, fuck, you feel so damn good, baby—”

His eyes roll back as the second orgasm overtakes him, shaking through his legs and bursting out of his chest in a desperate wail. Clint’s thrusts slow back down, but he barely feels them. He opens and closes his fingers, trying to hold on, and fails, floating high above his body. Below his body.

There’s a release of pressure.

Warmth shifts from his back to his side.

Small wet noises and low rumbles of begging.

His eyes blink open, soft and slow. He feels light. He feels empty.

As his vision starts to swim into focus, he realizes his Omega has moved him to the side. She’s now riding Clint into the mattress. Hard.

A flash of Clint’s face— it looks like he’s seeing heaven open— and Peter smiles, curling into the Beta’s side and clinging to one of his arms as he floats away again.

---

An hour later, Peter is up and cuddling with his pack. It took awhile to bring him back, but his pack let him float— content to relax in his submission and forget about the hundred other things going wrong outside their bedroom.

Turns out the interruption was Bucky, coming to check on them after hearing a “horrific dying animal noise.”

“Was it the noise I made or the noise Clint made?” Peter asks.

Clint rolls his eyes, and Annie answers, “Clint howled like a fucking Alpha when he dropped you on his cock.”

“Oh my— Annie!” Peter yelps, hiding his face in Clint’s arm as his mate cackles.

“You’re just too delicious, Petey. Couldn’t help myself.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but still nestles closer, “Did you float, Clint?”

“For a bit— definitely not like you did, Pete.”

“Hey,” Annie buts in, “drink this, Peter,” and she presses a bottle against his lips.

He takes a few moments to down the whole thing— he is exceedingly thirsty— before asking, “Did Bucky say anything?”

“No, he brought us water, though. And snacks. And then he ran away.”

Peter yawns and pulls Annie’s arm around him, “I wish he’d stayed to cuddle.”

His packmates snuggle in closer and pull up the blanket, cocooning themselves and drifting off for a nap before starting the day officially. When they wake up around noon, the first thing Annie does is call the Omega clinic to book Bucky an adjoining appointment with theirs.

Monday comes sooner than they expect, and all three Omegas pile into the small clinic for their appointments.

Peter keeps looking up at Bucky. The older Omega has been quiet since they left the house, and it’s starting to get concerning. Annie went into her appointment a few minutes ago, so the two of them are alone in the waiting room. He threads their fingers together, placing a small kiss on the back of his hand.

“Bucky?”

No response.

“Bucky? Buck? James? Jamie?”

At the last one, Bucky blinks a few times and shakes his head.

“Wha… what did you call me?”

“I— I don’t know, I was just trying to get your attention—”

“Only my parents ever called me Jamie,” Bucky says, looking down at Peter with wide eyes.

Peter tries to apologize, stuttering, “I’m so so sorry, Bucky, I swear, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Pete,” Bucky squeezes his hand, “it’s okay, darlin’. I… I enjoyed it, is all.”

“... what?”

Bucky sighs, “Stevie called me Bucky for the first time when we were in middle school, ya know? I’d always been James or Jamie, but hated it when I was little. After that day, I only went by Bucky— I guess that was his claim on me, even back then. But now, it sounds good to be called Jamie by someone I consider home, alright?”

Peter scrubs at the tears forming in his eyes, looking up at Bucky as he asks, “I feel like home?”

“Yeah, Pete, you do. You don’t have to, but I’d love for you to call me Jamie. Damn... okay maybe that’s actually a bad idea, you know what, forget—”

“No, no,” Peter interrupts, “I’d love to call you Jamie. Really. We should… we should spend some time together. Like, alone together.”

Jamie finally smiles at this, nodding along, “I’d love that, Pete. Wanna go away for a weekend, or just spend a few days in my nest and kick everyone else out?”

“Either, but I’d like to do it before… before we have sex together. Or share a heat. I’d like to know you a bit more.”

“So no sex on our weekend away?” Jamie asks, and Peter looks up in surprise— and he’s laughing. Oh.

Peter gives him a light push, “I swear, you’re no better than Clint.”

Both of them end up laughing, leaning against each other and getting dirty looks from a few other patients that they ignore.

Within a few minutes, the nurses call their names and they go back for their appointments. Separately. Everything goes normally for Peter, but he can’t stop worrying about Jamie the whole time. He knows his scent must reek, but the doctor, thankfully, doesn’t comment on it. Once he’s given a clean bill of health, plus a negative pregnancy test, the nurses usher him into a larger exam room where Annie and Jamie sit waiting for him.

They take a few moments to scent each other, holding on tight, before specifically checking in on Jamie. They’re relieved to hear that his STD and pregnancy tests are negative, and all of them share details about their own exams, ultrasounds, and other blood work they had to do.

After a minute, there’s a knock on the door, and an older, female doctor enters the room.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Michaels,” she says sitting in the chair across from where they’re piled on the large exam couch, “I’m told you would like to talk about pack bonding today, correct?”

All of them exchange a look, but stay relatively silent. Great. Perfect time for them to swing submissive.

Doctor Michaels is patient, and Jamie finally speaks up.

“Yeah, Doc. We need’ta know how to bond. We’ve got an Alpha and two Betas at home who we want to bond with, but none of us have any idea what to do.”

She laughs lightly, politely, and Peter gets a whiff of sweet Omega scent from her.

“Here, all three of you take these booklets,” she passes them out, and Peter almost scoffs at the title: How to Make Your Forever, Last.

She continues on, “I’m sure you’ve had conversations with your whole pack about bonding, so the only reminder I’ll give is that a bond, when formed correctly between two consenting parties, will last indefinitely. If any of your bonded pack members were to leave and start a separate, familial pack, the bond you share will still remain and that member would be unable to rebond with another person. Understand?”

All three of them nod their heads affirmative.

“Good, now— are you all living together yet?”

“Yeah,” Jamie answers again, “we have a home and by the summer we’ll be livin' together permanently.”

“Okay, that’s imperative for testing compatibility and establishing territory. You will also need to set rules and guidelines for sexual intimacy, especially regarding gender dynamics and orientations. Speaking of which, do you have designated spaces for nesting and scenes?”

“We do. Right now, we have two nests, two dens, and two separate scene rooms. I think Stevie— that’s our DomAlpha— is plannin’ to build out a main den and the Omegas will rebuild one nest together durin’ a heat or somethin’.”

She hums in acknowledgement and makes a note, “Let’s talk about heats. I see here on your charts that none of you have shared a heat with a partner, is this correct?” they all nod, yes, “The only way a pack can bond is when an Omega mate is in heat. If all six of you are to share a bond, it will be strongest if the Omegas are synched. Have you heard this term before?”

Annie speaks up, “Once or twice. My mom used to talk about it— where Omegas off their suppressants and intimate together will get on the same heat cycle.”

“Right,” the doctor agrees, “you’ll need to go off your suppressants and wait two or three cycles before your bodies officially synch together. I’m going to suggest that each of those heats you spend with each other and try to keep other packmates from interacting unless absolutely necessary. It’s best that your hormones aren’t affected by other mates during this time.”

Jamie makes a small displeased noise, but quickly clears his throat, motioning for her to continue.

The doctor smiles again, “I know, it’ll be hard spending a few heats without your full pack, but truly, it will be for the best if you want to form a strong bond.”

“So,” Peter asks, “what about during the heat that we all have together? When we’re ready to bond— what happens then?”

“Well, it depends. I have to ask— will your bonded pack have a Dominant Alpha and Submissive Omega present?”

Peter nods, “Yes, me and Steve.”

“Okay, that will help the process significantly. You’ve probably already talked about your role as the cornerstone of the pack, but during the bonding process, it is essential that the two of you bond and knot first. It’s going to be hard for the other pack members to refrain from mating during that time, but it will help to establish an order of bonding before the occasion to curb any confusion during the hormone-fueled heats.”

“So, we have to… Steve and I have to bond before anyone else can?” Peter asks, avoiding his packmates’ attention.

“Yes,” the doctor agrees, “the whole pack can be with you, if you desire, but he will have to knot you and both of you exchange a secure bite on the neck before other packmates can join the process.”

The three Omegas shift uncomfortably at the description, and Peter slips his hand into Jamie’s, holding on tight.

“After this, just make sure all of the desired bonds are completed before the end of your shared heat. I assume your Betas know of their ability to satisfy an Omega during heat?”

“Uh…” Peter pauses, looking to Annie and Jamie, but both of them seem confused, “probably not?”

“It’s okay, it’s all in the booklet, too. Betas have the ability to help Omegas in their heats and Alphas in their ruts by simulating biological responses necessary for satisfaction in their partners. For instance— when the three of you enter heat together, your Beta packmates will both be able to knot you temporarily. It’s a shorter duration than an Alpha’s knot and only happens for the heat, but their semen still has calming properties, and under the right circumstances, can help an Omega conceive.”

At this, Jamie makes a sad noise that has both of them turning to him.

“Doc,” he starts, head down and body language tense, “is it true that only the Dominant Alpha and Submissive Omega can pup?”

Peter spins to look at him in surprise. What?

“Yes, after bonding, the cornerstone pair in the pack will undergo a hormonal shift in their reproductive system, creating a symbiosis and making it so that only their systems are compatible. The Alpha’s semen only works on the Omega’s uterus, basically.”

“How… wait, so— my body… what about Steve and Jamie? What about Tony?”

“I can only assume those are your other mates. It will still be possible for the two of you, James and Annie, to be impregnated by either of your Betas should the desire arise. Because of this,” she transitions, ignoring the ShockedDevestatedUpsetOmega scent overtaking the room, “I will still keep all of you on contraceptives unless you are wanting to conceive during your first heat. Is this okay?”

They nod, wordless and still shocked.

“Perfect. And lastly, what is the general timeline for bonding? I need to know in order to schedule appointments to retract the semi-permanent suppressants.”

“It’s,” Jamie clears his throat, “it’s as soon as possible, I think. We wanna be bonded this summer.”

“Great, then we can remove the suppressants today before you leave. Are there any other questions you may have for me?”

They shake their heads, no, and she excuses herself from the room, promising to send a nurse to complete the procedures.

When the door shuts, the three of them crowd together, hooking their chins over shoulders and shifting into each other’s laps. Peter feels Jamie grip him tight, and looks into his eyes, which are glazed over and blown wide.

He’s dropping, Peter thinks to himself, and he’s dropping dominant.

Because of this, it isn’t surprising that Jamie growls when the nurse enters the room. Peter shushes him, lacing their fingers together, and the nurse waits for their permission before approaching the chair where they sit.

The nurse pulls out a few of the tools, and asks them, “Alright, who wants to go first?”

Jamie growls again, but answers, “I will,” before lifting his shirt, giving her access to his suppressant site.

They watch as she squeezes around his stomach, feeling for the insertion. His face is screwed up in discomfort, breathing heavily.

She finds the site, a small bump underneath his skin that feeds directly into his endocrine system, and squeezes it towards the surface of his skin. Grabbing the syringe, she warns him about the sharp pain and quickly inserts the needle, puncturing the suppressant site, and injecting a clear liquid. Jamie hisses through his teeth, clamping down hard on Peter’s arm, as the nurse changes out her tool and attaches a suction to his stomach, turning on the corresponding machine that starts to massage his skin.

“It’s going to break apart the remaining parts of the suppressant site, and it will be absorbed into your system with little side effects,” she says, turning off the machine and starting to sanitize it again.

“Alright,” she turns back with a new syringe, “who’s next?”

---

“I’m never goin’ back to that damn clinic ever again.”

After their procedures, Jamie had towed both Omegas out of the clinic and back to the car, throwing them in the backseat, buckling their seat belts, and taking off towards their house.

Annie tries to get his attention, “Bucky, we should probably call—”

A deep, feral growl cuts her off, and both Omegas remain silent for the rest of the ride. Peter pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Steve, letting him know about Jamie’s drop. He also texts Tony and Clint, asking both of them to be ready to help when they get home.

Jamie isn’t driving fast— honestly, he’s probably going under the speed limit— but Peter and Annie are still holding on tight to each other, struggling to keep themselves from dropping submissive as Jamie pumps AggressiveUpsetDistressedOmega scent into the car.

When they pull up, Jamie is immediately around the side of the car, hauling both of them out of the back seat and stalking towards the front door with a low, persistent growl.

Before they even reach the door, Steve steps out with Tony and Clint not too far behind him. Jamie lets out a louder growl, straightening up, shoving both Omegas behind him— facing the Alpha head on. Steve steps closer, meeting his challenge,

“Stand down, Bucky.”

The command washes over all of them, and Peter feels his knees give in, crumpling to the ground. He can’t tear his eyes away from his Alpha— standing in front of Jamie with an expectant look on his face and ordering him to his knees in submission.

He sees Jamie finally collapse, sinking to his knees in front of their Alpha, and then there’s suddenly a set of hands on his shoulders.

“Peter, come with me, baby,” Tony croons into his ear, and he nods his head, letting his Beta scoop him up and carry him away, far away, into the house. They settle onto the nesting couch, and Tony starts to wrap him in blankets, whispering sweet encouragements into his ear that make Peter feel safe and warm.

Distantly, he hears sniffling and crying. Tony takes a moment to help him drink water, and he hums his appreciation.

“Tony?” he whispers, cursing himself quietly for how weak he sounds,

It surprises his boyfriend, though, and he’s immediately shifted to stare deep into his Beta’s eyes, “Yes, baby? Are you okay? What happened?”

He ignores the question for now, “Where’s Annie? And Jamie? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, they’re fine. Steve’s got Bucky in the den and Clint has Annie up in your nest.”

“Oh, okay,” he closes his eyes, “I’m fine, Beta. We had a rough time at the clinic— they gave us a lot of information and then we had a painful procedure to get our suppressants removed— and I think that caused all of us to drop.”

“I can tell, Pete. I’ve never seen Bucky challenge Steve like that before— it was quite a sight.”

Peter sighs, “I think he felt like we were in trouble. I should be with him.”

“No, not right now,” Tony’s tone is firm, “we can talk tonight, but right now he needs to spend time with our Alpha.”

“Beta, I need to talk to you about something,” he whispers, ducking his head to avoid eye contact. Tony grabs his chin, not letting him get away, while motioning for him to continue, “the doctor said… she said I can’t have your pups, Tony.”

His tears start to gather in his eyes, and Tony wipes them away tenderly,

“I know.”

“... you know?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but we figured it out a few years ago when the boys were courting me.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t— no, I’m really sorry, I really am Peter. I would have told you before we bonded if the doctor hadn’t mentioned it today. Bucky is devastated that he can’t have Steve’s pups—”

“I know—”

“And— oh, okay. So I can assume that’s one of the things that set him off?”

Peter rolls his eyes, “You think, Tony?”

“Damn, okay, I’m really fucking this up,” Tony scrubs his face, “Peter. I’m… you gotta know, baby, that I love you regardless. So does Steve. None of us expect pups from you, and you know that you don’t have to bond with Steve, right?”

“Stop it, Tony. I heard the news and then got my suppressant removed. I made this choice. I’m just pissed that we got so far without anyone bringing it up. I mean— we’re already living here! Dammit Tony, you asked me to trust you and I’m trying.”

“And I know that, sweetheart,” Tony says, caressing a thumb across Peter’s cheek, “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you, Peter. I respect you— you know that, right?”

Peter mirrors his touch, putting his smaller hand on Tony’s cheek, ��I know, Tony.”

Tony looks relieved and leans closer. Peter closes his eyes, ready for the kiss—

“Hey— oh, sorry—”

They whip around to see Steve waiting next to their chair, shifting awkwardly where he stands and holding one of his hands behind his back. Peter scans the room, and sees Bucky curled up with Annie and Clint on a nearby couch, watching them intently.

“It’s okay, Alpha, what’s going on?” Peter untangles from Tony’s arms, sitting up straighter to look Steve in the face. Tony rubs his back encouragingly.

Steve looks to Tony, looks behind him towards their pack— all of whom give him a thumbs up— and then slowly gets to both knees, pulling a red, velvet box from behind his back, and opening it to reveal a sparkling, diamond ring.

“I— what?”

“Peter, I realized that I shouldn’t wait to ask you this. You’ve stepped so gracefully into the role we’ve required of you, and it happens to come with a lifelong bond to an Alpha you barely know. I want you to know— I’m falling in love with you. I don’t want our bond to be built out of necessity, I want it to be built out of affection and commitment to each other. I don’t just want forever with this pack— I want forever with you,”

At this, Steve bares his neck in submission and holds out the ring, “Peter Parker: will you be mine? In love, in bond, and in marriage?”

Peter feels Tony’s thumb on his cheek and realizes he’s crying again.

“Y— yes, Steve. I’ll be yours. I’m—” he takes a deep breath, “— I’m falling in love with you, too, Alpha.”

He slides off the couch, joining his Alpha on the floor, and melts into his arms as the room erupts in excited cheers.

With Steve’s ring on his finger and nose in his neck, his problems start to melt away. They’re strong together, they’re right together. And even though his pack won’t make his worries disappear— with all six of them celebrating around him and embracing each other— it seems as though they can face anything, together.

#peter parker #MiGLT #starker #spidershield #winterspider #clint barton #tony stark #d/s fic #smut #fluff #pack dynamics #mcu #ao3 #mood board #might wanna just read this on ao3 tbh #omegaverse

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thecandywrites · 3 years ago

Text

Blood For Gold Chapter 21

Oh but we aren’t done, let’s unravel this spiderweb completely shall we? All the aces that everyone thought they had are pulled out, and what they thought were aces, just might end up being jokers instead. Also this picture of this dagger? That’s Kushi, before and after it turned to platinum, before it disintergrated into black ash.

@punkhorse96 this is where we come right to the brink of losing everything and this story ALMOST becomes a tragedy only for LOVE TO CONQUER ALL. And save the day and bring it back from the brink of destruction and taking the highroad keeps you from being involved in the tragic “accidents” on the low roads from the head on collisions between the other players in the game. Enjoy Darling, one more chapter to tie all this up in a neat little bow.

Also I would like to make a note- because this mentions pregnancy and in a sense, abortion too- I want to make something clear. I am pro choice. I believe that children can be a blessing, but they above all else, are people and they deserve to be wanted, deserve to be cared for by loving and caring parents who want them and parents who are ready and willing to have them. And not be viewed as the bad consequence for having sex.

Blood For Gold

Chapter 21

“What’s going on now?” Demsey asked you.

“Something between Benny and Sierge that they need to work out.” You answered him.

“Demsey, do remember that favor I asked of you? How you would help me escape the Palace of Windsor?” You prompted, as your tears welled in your eyes because having Demsey so close but knowing that the best thing to do for him was going to be to get worlds apart from him was breaking your heart just thinking about.

“Yes, I have not forgotten.” Demsey reassured you.

“I need to call it in. The moment we return, I need you to bring that trunk down to the stables, I was given Charlico as a gift, and I’m leaving with Heavencrest and Charlico. Because the moment we get back and can get packed, everyone is leaving the Palace of Windsor and my family is going to be going to Mirador to help sort things out.” You informed him.

“Absolutely, I will ride back immediately and meet you in the stables.” Demsey reassured you.

“Thank you.” You thanked him before your parents came and pulled you back to them as they insisted on having a family meeting to discuss what they were going to do as once again, urged them all to go to Mirador and formulate a plan there and that you would have room in Mirador’s stables for everyone’s rides and plenty of rooms for them to stay in even though they weren’t as lavish as the rooms at the Palace of Windsor but your family insisted that even if they had to share beds and roll out bed rolls on the floor, they were going to stay together but in this moment, you just wanted to be free and have space from everyone.

Demsey rode the fastest horse he could rent and immediately went up to his room and hastily packed his own things into his own trunk and put them with yours and waited anxiously in the stables as your family came back as you hurriedly packed everything you could not live without and put them in a separate trunk and instructed the servants to take the first trunk to the stables and all the others to go back to Mirador with your parents since they would be taking carriages back to Mirador before you got dressed in a simple, comfortable shirt and pants along with your flying leathers and practically ran towards the stables once Yalin gave you Charlico’s papers of ownership and breeding lines and a note to the stable hands that Charlico’s saddle and whatever other tack you wanted would be leaving with him.

“So what happened in there?” Demsey asked as he tried to help you get Charlico and Heavencrest saddled up to be loaded up.

“My case against the Morrigans got dismissed from every court in England.” You told him.

“How in the world did the Morrigans get your case dismissed?!” Demsey demanded.

“Because it wasn’t them that did it, it was the Dowager Queen who was the one who dismissed both my case against the Morrigans and the Morrigan’s case against me in both the public and private courts and barred us from ever going to court to protect the Crown from any damage that this case would bring to it through Gregori, Yalin and Ramsey and she herself got to see and hear all of the evidence and acted as judge and jury and ruled in my favor. The original contract I had with Edward Senior was upheld. And the Dowager Queen awarded me everything that the Morrigans have as recompense for the hurt they caused me in their conspiracy and attempt to murder me and they were branded as mad and insane for trying to murder me via mourakatili and were sent to the asylum to be fed poison to make them honestly insane.” You answered.

“Oh, but that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Isn’t that more or less the outcome you wanted?” Demsey asked in confusion because you were still manically trying to saddle and load both animals up and you were still crying and clearly in distress.

“Factually, yes, but at the same time, no, not at all, because I finally found out why they tried to kill me to begin with and it’s so much worse than anything I could have imagined. The day I married Edward Senior, Ramsey, in a panic said only minutes after I married Edward, told his father that I was his perfect bride but because I was just then married, I was unavailable because his parents had threatened him that if he had not found a bride that season, he would be cut off in every conceivable way and sent into the army and have the rake beaten out of him one way or another. But he just thought I would marry Edward and live out the rest of his natural life with him and in five to ten years when Edward would die naturally of old age, then he would be ready by then. But what no one realized was Gregori’s desperation to see Ramsey married and father to a legitimate heir as soon as possible was so great, he conspired to murder Edward Senior so that I could be Ramsey’s wife that much quicker. Because it was Gregori who bribed Edward’s doctor- Dr. Rickets, to poison Edward Senior with Wolf’s Eye which when you take it, it makes you delirious within a couple months, and within a few more months, it will put into a further delirious rage to the point your heart beats so hard so fast, your heart beats itself apart, causing your heart to fail, and that led to Edward’s own madness and in his madness, he abused me. The entire Royal Family including Charlotte, Yalin, Ramsey and myself were completely unaware of Gregori’s involvement and plotting and all of them were mortified to learn of this news and as recompense, they gave me Charlico for free, although I still feel I paid for him with my own blood, but none of that seems to matter to anyone else so the real murderer is walking free because he’s the King’s brother and heaven forbid he face any punishment for his actions.” You hissed as you wiped your angry tears away as you did your best to get Heavencrest’s saddle cinched correctly as your tears blurred your vision.

“The Morrigan's thought I had poisoned Edward Senior, wanting to get out of the marriage which of course wasn’t true because before the poisoning- Edward Senior had been nothing but good to me and I was happy and content with him and I had no reason or motive or cause for such a thing but they thought I was a typical moura, who just wanted the highest payout as quickly as possible and in retaliation and wanting to avenge Edward Senior, hired the same doctor, Dr. Rickets, to obtain mourkatili and poison me with it so that I would be buried right next to Edward Senior. Dr. Rickets tried telling Gregori but Gregori was already on holiday with his family in Dorierra trying to find another “me” for Ramsey and didn’t get his letter in time for Gregori to step in and Dr. Rickets added Jade’s Crown to the mourkatili to make it less lethal but more addictive and told the Morrigans all they needed to do was put a thimble full of it into a pot of hibiscus tea to hide the color and once I would have a sip, I would become addicted and would request to drink it more and would choose to drink myself to death, which that plot very narrowly succeeded.” You revealed with a bitter laugh.

“But because it was Gregori who is guilty of the conspiracy, it’s being covered up, buried and dismissed and all evidence of Gregori’s guilt, once it was made aware by the Morrigans and myself and my family, it was then quickly destroyed and Dr. Rickets ended up going to the asylum with the Morrigans and has the same fate as them.” You revealed as Demsey was half tempted to try to burn the palace down himself as rage almost blinded him but your hurt kept his mind with you in the moment.

“However, the complication was that Richard’s mistress, Myra, her children by Richard were brought up in Broadcove as servants because Agnes insisted that only the children she bore to Richard should be his heirs and treated them as such because she was the one who had control of a good portion of the wealth since a lot of it was in her name, that term was agreed on so that Agnes would continue go along with everything like a good wife and Richard of course had to agree because Myra has no nobility at all herself, just her beauty and personality to recommend her and Agnes had the breeding, nobility, connections and dowry to boot. So, of course Richard married Agnes but kept Myra as his mistress and it is those connections and that dowry that enabled Edward Senior and Richard to invest it and multiply it and turn it into the massive wealth they did and with Agnes working her own contacts like a concierto does an orchestra, that’s why they have as much power and influence as they do. But Agnes was always resentful on account of Myra so she abused those poor innocent children because she hated how Richard loved them more than the children she bore to him and even though they were his bastards, they were made in more love than Jane and little Edward ever were and she demanded that if they remain in the house that they were to earn their place as servants or be put out into the street because she could not bear the humiliation of Edward’s infidelity made public and she would turn all of her connections on Richard if she didn’t get her way so he had no choice but to agree and Myra was lucky she got a room, much less a suite of rooms at Broadcove in the opposite end of the house from Agnes, Jane and little Edward.” You explained.

“And if that wasn’t bad enough Agnes even sent one of them to their early death, the eldest son Myra bore to Richard, the second time I was served mourkatili in tea form, she insisted that to “prove” it wasn’t dangerous, for the poor boy who served it to me, she insisted that he taste it to prove it wasn’t poisonous, I tried to stop it but he did as she commanded and dropped dead the moment that poison touched his lips and she tried to pin it on me to Myra saying that I insisted he drink it. So of course Myra came to me and demanded to know what the poor boy had done to me that I should be so cruel as to kill him and when Richard found out, of course he believed Agnes at first and came at me and had me tied down so he could beat me and I couldn’t fight back, I was too drunk on mourkatili to fight back anyway before Jane intervened and told them the truth and Jane had to show them the truth that had been caught via her own messengerari that was in the room and when Myra saw it, she apologized profusely and did everything she could to heal the hurt that Richard had inflicted but when Richard saw it, he never did apologize to me but instead turned on Agnes, her bruises and cuts were twice as bad as my own. But that didn’t stop Agnes because the third time Agnes did it, it was Myra’s youngest boy who was only six.” You broke down crying as Demsey came and tried to hold you but you resisted him, because you wanted to leave as soon as you got this all off your chest because you wanted and needed him to know the truth.

The whole truth.

“And I of course drank down every drop of it to keep him from having any to protect him and Jane, once again had to intervene, so she and her father decided that only she would serve me the mourkatili because I would not make her drink it and that all of Richard’s other children by Myra would be kept to her apartments in the north wing and would only be let out when they were in the company of Myra or Richard, so they became like caged animals, just like me and must like Myra.” You revealed as Demsey stared in horror.

“And Jane, sweet Jane, she got her ladies maid to go to the market for her to get me ipecac and she would try to dilute the mourkatili and try to add what she had heard would help lessen the impact of it or help to try to neutralize it. And she purposefully “tripped” and crashed onto the floor when she couldn’t dilute the tea and it of course stained the rugs and the floorboards underneath but she couldn’t do it too often for fear her parents would get suspicious but she did everything she could in those limited, forced circumstances to try to do what she could to save me, so even though the fact of the matter is she did serve me poison, she isn’t responsible for it. And I hold no grudge against her or blame. And of course, when I got to leave Broadcove, Myra pleaded with me to take her children as my own servants because she knew I would be good to them and treat them with kindness, much more than they were being given at home and I could not refuse her. But of course, they are their father’s children and they of course, kept reporting on everything I did to their father. So even when I left Broadcove, I couldn’t escape the Morrigans.” You divulged.

“But why not dismiss them entirely then?” Demsey asked.

“Because they have been good to me despite that and I couldn’t fault them for their loyalty, nor can I find fault in their service, they have always been respectful and obedient and they did everything they could to be courteous and cater to me and it was only three months into my widowhood when they saw for themselves what kind of person I was that they switched their loyalties to me and told their father to “fuck off” because if he really did love them like he claimed, then he would not have put up with their indentured servitude or mistreatment at Agnes’ hands and refused to spy on me after that and it’s because of those circumstances that in an effort to mend things with me, the King made Myra a Maquise, a station higher than a Count or Countess and basically told everyone the cover for this whole fucking fiasco was ‘that Agnes and Richard went on holiday, got sick with something to make them go mad while Jane and I have been at Windsor and that they bribed Dr. Rickets to poison me with mourkatili and thankfully my brother’s dragon was here to cure me and that they are all guilty of madness and attempted murder and have since been sent to the asylum. And that Marquise Myra Bellafont, moved with pity, has taken in Jane and little Edward and is now their loving caregiver’.” You informed him.

“So that’s why I am leaving Broadcove to Myra and all of her children as heirs of it because while Agnes has always treated them with animosity, they have never treated Jane or little Edward that way or even Myra, let alone me. So they will leave Mirador as my servants and enter Broadcove as masters and I have been awarded everything that the Morrigans had, all wealth and property and I am leaving a business or two to Myra and her children to run so that they can keep up Broadcove and care for their needs and anyone who says otherwise or attempts to reveal the truth will be promptly killed or sent to the asylum themselves.” You explained.

“But if that wasn’t enough, Richard did hire a mage to cast a spell over all of Mirador so that no messengerari would work and send any message out and bribed four of the post masters in the Royal Mail Service to destroy every piece of mail going in or out to me and Mage Bellfast had to conjure them all up because they had all been burned in an effort to be destroyed. That’s why that table was covered in mail from my friends and family. Not even your letter to me a few days before the ball to warn me about who was going to be there and who meant me harm could reach me.” You explained.

“And that was the other reason why the Royal Family couldn’t let this go to court because to prove that their Royal Mail Service had been corrupted, couldn’t be tolerated.” You answered.

“And what’s even worse is now I can’t go home to Dorierra either because I got the classification of tavnit, which means “no master”. And even if I were to go back to Dorierra, I can’t stand to go back into the bride system. But I also can’t stand to go home to Mirador where my whole family now has dollar signs in their eyes and now they are all clamoring for a piece of the giant money pie I’ve just been handed and the temptation to just let your sister inherit all that I have so that you can assist her in how to run it all so I can be free of even all of that is too tempting for me right now and so the only place that leaves that I can go and be truly free in every sense, is a colony because justice is a joke and loyalty is fickle at best in this country and the less people around me who can use me for their own benefit, spy on me to others who would use that information as blackmail against me and betray me, the better.” You insisted bitterly.

“Do you think I would ever do those things to you?” Demsey asked.

“No, never, because you’re actually a very good man, with upstanding character and morals but you deserve a highborn lady at your side to be the perfect wife to you and help you and stand by you. And as much as I want to do that, I can’t.” You cried as you put your bags onto the saddles and tied them down.

“Why not? I told you, I don’t need an heir and a spare, all I want is you to be happy. And if a colony is where you think you’ll find that then let me go with you. Where you go, I go. To hell with England.” Demsey insisted.

“No, England is still your home though, and Whydah I’m sure has no equal. You have everything here, you have your business which should be booming with the new soap recipes which Leumeni has offered to share if he could have the chance to court Kiera properly. You have your title as Duke, you have your family and friends, and I’m not worth giving all of that up for.” You argued.

“Yes you are! To me, you are worth more than anything this world has to offer me.” Demsey argued further as he once again tried to reach for you to pull you into the comfort of his embrace as you desperately put your hands on his chest and shoved him away with what was left of your strength in that moment.

“Demsey please! You can’t love me without knowing the truth about me! I am a murderer! I’m the one who gave Edward his fatal blow!” You cried out as Demsey was dumbstruck by such a revelation as he subconsciously took a step back as your heart broke to see such a reaction from him before you grabbed your last bag and tied it to Charlico’s saddle.

“A millenia ago, when mouras first touched down on the ground, the reason we knew we could turn things into gold was because at a banquet, a drunken man tried to rape a moura woman. The moment his touches grew desperate and violent, just touching her, her body, in an act of self defense, turned him into a statue of gold. That’s how we found out we had that power. Once she touched him again, he turned back to flesh and blood but the act of being a solid gold statue killed him and he dropped dead. Then we learned to master that defense mechanism and learned to control it. It was our blessing and our curse. From there, moura women were hunted like game, like trophies and when mouras grew cloaks, when you took a moura’s cloak you were considered bonded with them. And men of all kinds hunted us, and once we turned their enemies into statues of gold, to be melted down into bricks and bars of it and once that is done once it stays gold for a year, touching it again will never let it revert back to it’s original flesh, so the gold was kept in the ground for a year and a half just to be safe while the person was considered “gone missing”, or the women turned their own body weight of mud and rock and bricks into gold, then they were released. But that meant that no moura would ever have rape or any abuse attempted on them because the perpratrator would be turned to gold themselves. But when the gold plague came, that power died with it. And suddenly we didn’t have that protection, or that curse. Until only recently, and I mean recently as in only the last one hundred years. There have been only four mouras born in the whole world, who can now touch that moura gold and turn it into moura platinum. That’s what I am. I’m a platinum moura. The moment Edward’s flesh touched mine as he tried to rape me, he dropped dead as a platinum statue, he broke the bed and the crash was heard through the whole house and I had to have the bed burned and bribed Dr. Rickets to say he died of a heart attack, which having a heart that needs to be beating for you to stay alive, if it stops, you’re dead, still kind of happened. But because of the mourkatili, it means that that very platinum is poisonous and lethal if you touch it but when I touch it again, it turns to black ash, the same black ash from the Gold Plague that killed billions of heavenly moura, that’s why my hands were black when you came in and why there was so much ash on the floor because Mage Bellfast, as payment for conjuring up my mail asked me to turn a brick of moura gold into moura platinum. I tried and failed because Grevu cured me. And when Mage Altissia informed Mage Bellfast of that, he cast a spell on me and pulled the mourkatili that was in my hair back into my body and re-poisoned me so that I could have that power back. I tried stabbing him after he put that spell on me and I tried stabbing him with Kushi and Kushi turned from gold to platinum in my hands but the mourkatili made me weak again and I collapsed onto the floor and when I stood back up and picked up that gold bar and the moment I touched it, it turned from gold to platinum and I gave it to him and he at the time had the good sense of wearing gloves and when he got to hold it, he kissed it. And when he kissed it, his body instantly dissolved into a heap of ash with the bar of platinum falling onto a heap of his clothes and ash and it killed him and when I went to pick up Kushi, the moment I touched it, it turned back to gold but also into ash as well and it disintegrated into my hands and all the jewels that were imbedded into it, fell through my fingers like pebbled sand at the beach. I destroyed Kushi because it had been made with moura gold and when I touched that brick of moura platinum, it did the same thing. And now I can’t touch anything made out of moura gold or else the same thing will happen to it and for all I know the ash is just as poisonous now as it was when it first appeared in the Gold Plague. That’s why I have the tavnit status and that’s why I’m not welcome back in Dorierra because I have no use for the stable masters and once again, I am a lost cause.” You confessed.

“Do you still love me now? Knowing that I can kill you if you touch me? That I can turn everything that happens to be moura gold and turn it into poisonous platinum that will kill everything and anything it touches?” You asked rhetorically.

“That’s why as soon as I’m packed, I am going to go back down to Grevu so he can heal me yet again so that I am free of this curse too and then I’m leaving for the farthest colony I can find from here because the more space between me and this whole horrible situation and circumstances, the better.” You told him.

“But I know you would never do such things to me, at least on purpose. I promise to remove everything gold from Whydah so that you can’t possibly…” Demsey tried to offer.

“Demsey, that is not the only reason I can’t marry you and that you can not come with me. You deserve a wife who is faithful and honest with you in all things. Demsey I am pregnant. I am with child as we speak. I’m a month along already and even if we got married today, the baby will come too soon after the wedding and your reputation as well as my own would probably be ruined beyond repair and I can’t do that to you, I won’t do that to you, I refuse to do that to you. It’s not right and I refuse to do anything that can be in any way harmful to you. That’s why Grevu cured me the first time, he could tell I was falling pregnant and cured me to protect me and the baby, but because of the pregnancy and because of Grevu’s magic, protecting the baby from all harm, even now with the mourkatili in me, the baby is fine, it remains unharmed and the rest of my womb is being protected from reabsorbing it’s poison and this babe was made in love and passion and I refuse to harm it either. It’s an innocent in this situation too and it’s not only my responsibility and obligation to take on the consequences of my own actions and I have no one to blame for my state but myself and I am ready and willing to take it on and the only saving grace I have is that the baby is in no way the offspring of the Morrigans. And I love you too much to try to push onto you a baby that isn’t yours. It wouldn’t be honest or right. And I can’t ask you to take me and this baby on, knowing that.” You insisted as you finished then went over everything to make sure everything was attached and secure and wouldn’t come flying off when you would fly to the colonies in just a few moments.

“And the father of the baby has completely disappeared, no one can find him. And what’s worse is he was a whore in a whorehouse, that’s who the father of this baby is. Two months ago, when you gave me that note back that Calla was able to sneak to me. I went to The Gold Finch, that is where I met Yalin, she told me about The Red Velvet Rope and she told me which days to go and which days to avoid the place because that was Ramsey’s favorite whorehouse and at the time she didn’t want us to meet because she knew Rasmey would use me, then ruin me. I met the manwhore there and I got to be with him three times, that first time, a second time right before the ball at Havenfield and the third at the Masquerade Ball at The Midnight Peacock. That’s who I was with right before you found me at the bar, he was why I didn’t feel like dancing because we had both told the other that we were going to be pursuing other people and that never again would The Red Velvet Rope be in our lives and then the bastard made an enormous bet on me on Kamoba and apparently won a small fortune and as always, he took the money and ran because since then, he has vanished into thin air and no one has even heard of him, let alone knows of him and of course The Red Velvet Rope absolutely insists that no one by his name or appearance has ever worked for them, ever. But the place wouldn’t be a good whorehouse if it didn’t serve it’s lady clientele pregnancy warding tea to counteract the consequences of it’s use which I made sure to drink both before and after each trip to The Red Velvet Rope. Except for the night of the Masquerade Ball, I was too heartbroken over losing him that I forgot to drink any and that one time was all it took, even with the mourkatili in my system which mourkatili is supposed to kill fetus’ but thanks to Grevu’s magic, the baby is perfectly fine and healthy and shows no signs of being disformed or anything. And I would never do you the dishonor of trying to pass off a baby that isn’t yours to your very face and I would hate myself for trying to live that lie and that guilt would eat me alive, more than mourkatili ever could. That’s what I meant by you deserve better. Do you still love me now? Don't these truths kill every ounce of love you thought you had for me? Don’t..don’t answer those questions. Hopefully all these truths will help you dismantle any affection you’ve built for me and hopefully you can find someone worthy of your love and affection who will do right by you, who isn’t a whoring murderer.” You offered as you finished with the last of it before you went back to Grevu and asked him to heal you again as Demsey sat on the now empty trunk as his own sack of clothes and personal items laid down at his feet and processed everything as he watched you get into Grevu’s tent with him as you hugged Grevu tight and tried to tell him goodbye as he wrapped his neck and wing around you protectively as you cried into his chest but thanked him for intervening and trying to protect you and save you and the baby before he seemed to glare at Demsey.

“It’s not his fault. He’s not the one to cause my hurt.” You tried to excuse to Grevu.

“Just, please, heal me, one last time, so I can carry the baby safely ok? Thank you, thank you for preserving this little miracle of life.” You pleaded with Grevu who put his nose into the neck of your flying leathers and snorted softly before you had to let him go and go to a corner and throw up again and just the sound of you being sick and in agony as once again, the mourkatili colored your hair, but just the ends of your hair this time instead of all of your hair as you readily grabbed it and cut the colored ends off and laid them on the ground for Grevu to burst into flames to destroy for good and it was enough to break Demsey out of his stupor and move him to action as he knelt next to you and once you were done, he handed you his handkerchief to wipe off your mouth.

“Audra, my love for you transcends everything you’ve told me and will transcend a million things more. I don’t care if you were working at The Red Velvet Rope as a whore yourself, and I don’t care if you couldn’t know who or what was the father of the child you’re carrying and I don’t care if you don’t even have a penny to your name. I love you. I will always love you. And I will happily love the child you’re carrying as if it were my own. You speak like you’re the only one to have ever sinned. I’m imperfect too and I don’t want the perfect wife. How boring would that be? I want you as my partner in life, no matter how or what kind of name you want to attach to it, I want you, any part of you or all of you if you’re willing to give it to me as perfectly imperfect as you are right now and forever.” Demsey professed.

“You want to hear my deepest darkest secret? Shortly after seeing you on the train, I used The Red Velvet Rope too because I could not get you off of my mind and I thought at the time that if I rutted with a moura, that would help me be less distracted and then I met another moura, with the same first name and the same looks as you. And my fantasy was that I was actually being intimate with you instead of her and I met with her three times as well, that first time shortly after returning the note to you from Calla, the second, right before the ball at Havenfield and then again at the Masquerade Ball. I went to that ball and I immediately rented a change of clothes so that no one would recognize me in my own clothes in an attempt that you would not recognize me but that she might and sure enough, like moth to a flame, she found me again and it both broke my heart but filled me with relief that she was going on the straight and narrow and she confessed that she was going after an orc in the gentry and I feared it was my brother because shortly after just giving Sierge the smallest, most miniscule of details about her, he has been looking for her ever since and he claimed he found her and agreed that her resemblance to you was uncanny and I tried to kiss her goodbye and cut things off clean with her at the ball, but it was like she was a drug that I was addicted to and I went one last round with her and I haven’t seen her since. She also bet on me for the Kamoba and apparently won a small fortune in turn but again, she, just took the money and ran and not even Sierge has been able to find her since, even with his almost super powerful sense of smell, and that was also why I was in no mood to dance at the Masquerade Ball and why after that, I found you at the bar and why it wasn’t fair to you at all that I was in your presence but yet it was her that was on my mind. So I’m just as much of a whore as her and I have been just as unfaithful and just as secretive and deceitful and I’m sorry that we live in a society where such things are like a death sentence to a woman and her honor but are expected from most men and it’s not fair and it isn’t right. But I swear- on my life, I would never, ever, hold such things against you and I would keep these revelations just between us and take them to my grave and I will do anything you ask of me, except for leaving your side. I want to help you, I want to love you and care for you if only you would let me. You are not the only one with sin or fault, I’m just as guilty as you, I’m just as imperfect and flawed. But she is nothing compared to you and is a sad counterfeit of the real you and I would much rather have you than a hundred of hers. You will always be infinitely more precious to me. Please, if you must insist on going to a colony, then let me go too. You don’t even have to marry me if you don’t want to, I don’t have to be a Duke, Sierge or even Tzane can take the title and the business for all I care. Just...let me love you and care for you the best way I can. I know how to make soap anywhere, with my own two hands, it doesn’t have to be England or Europa, I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as we are together. That’s all that matters to me, we’ll find a way to keep each other. I swear.” Demsey offered before you took your small canteen on your hip and swished your mouth out real quick before you finally kissed him, climbing into his lap and wrapped yourself around him and held him tight as you both cried tears of happiness and relief as an overwhelming flood of emotion overtook you both.

Then as if you both seemed to realize it at the same time, that each other’s taste was...really familiar.Not in a way that it was familiar from the night before but much farther back than that. Almost too familiar in an uncanny way.

“Wait, this, other Audra, the first time you met her, did you try to call her Audrey and she corrected you by saying it’s Audra- Draft?” You questioned him as suddenly, something clicked in your head.

“And I replied, ‘call me Demsey’.” Demsey answered as he gave you the most bizarre look before you both started laughing.

“Oh my gods, we are so stupid! Ugh! The Abbess at the Red Velvet Rope, told me I was going to be seeing a guy named Draft. That’s why I said “Draft”, not as my last name, but that was to address you, who I thought was named Draft.” You confessed.

“And it was on the 12th. At like, 3 o’clock in the afternoon? I told my abbess on my side of the place that I just wanted a rut with a moura and she offered an Audrey and so that’s why I called you Audrey and I thought the Draft thing was you saying your name was Audra Draft, Miss Draft.” Demsey confessed with a sigh of relief as he held you as finally your own personal scent was so wonderful and comforting and familiar! How had he not made the connection before now?

“And then we both returned on the 23rd at about the same time and met again, you were wearing that gorgeous navy suit jacket with the cream pants and that vest with cream and navy paisley.” You realized.

“And you wore that sexy as sin black lace dress that had me nearly losing my load just from the looks of it. Which, you do still have that right?” Demsey asked.

“Yeah, it’s back at Mirador.” You confirmed with another laugh.

“And that was you? At the Masquerade Ball, and it was me that you were quitting Mr. Draft for?” Demsey asked as he just couldn’t stop laughing as all of a sudden everything clicked into place as to why he was so outrageously attracted to you as he tightened his hold on you.

“Yeah, and obviously it was me that you were quitting Miss Draft for?” You asked with a laugh of your own.

“Yeah.” Demsey confirmed.

“So this is actually my child you’re carrying, this is my babe that Grevu has used his magic in protecting this whole time?” Demsey asked in awed astonishment and wonder and gratuity that even when you thought it was the child of a manwhore, you would would bear it and cause no harm to it and you’d be juast as loving and doting and safeguarding it which pleased him greatly and really proved to him the exceptional character you had as you nodded yes before he happily grabbed your face and kissed you with so much passion and so much feeling it was almost overpowering.

“Ok, new change of plans, I am marrying you as soon as I possibly can, I have a ring for you actually here, in my pocket, when you had that attendant hand the journal that I had written in back to me and that one line that you loved me back was all I needed to know, I figured you would be a while and I immediately rode to the closest jewelry store and bought you a ring and raced back and I barely made it back before we came inside the throne room. I am taking you home to Whydah and only keep whatever servants you’re really attached to back at Mirador but otherwise, leave the rest to whoever you want and I will never leave your side again and I pledge my heart, mind, soul and absolute fidelity to you from this day on.” Demsey vowed as he got the ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your finger.

“Likewise. Although I would like to make one small suggestion.” You offered as you wiped the last of your tears away.

“Name it, it’s yours.” Demsey answered back.

“If we ever get to the point where we need a break from being Duke and Duchess Voyambi, we can take breaks and go out on the town and Mr and Mrs. Draft.” You proposed which got him to smile wide and laugh.

“That sounds perfect. And we can continue to make bets in Kamoba, as Mr. and Mrs. Draft.” Demsey suggested.

“Perfect. Now, get what you need, load it onto Charlico because right now, he is yours, because it is only right that a mated pair of griffins be owned by a mated pair of people and fly Charlico home to Whydah.” You ordered as you looked at the aquamarine teal stoned ring with a halo of diamonds around it with so much pride and happiness and now that you knew that it was actually Demsey to save you from everything and that you had no more reasons to try to escape anything, because what you wanted and what you needed was already yours and already in your embrace and being married to Demsey and carrying his children was all you wanted and it made the sting of all the revelations earlier today melt away and you felt strengthened and fortified and so supremely happy because you were happily and freely choosing Demsey just as much as he was happily and freely choosing you, as “complicated” as the circumstances were.

“Yes Ma’am.” Demsey giggled as he kissed you again.

“Good dragon, very good dragon. I owe you everything. Thank you so much.” Demsey happily cooed to Grevu who happily wrapped his head and neck around you both and happily soaked up your affectionate petting and scratching just as a servant came into the barn.

“Is Duke Demsey Voyambi in here?” He called out.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Demsey said as you untangled from him as Grevu lifted his head to reveal you both and together you walked hand in hand to the servant who looked relieved to see you.

“And Sultana Saharazat! Oh good, I’ve found you too. Your bets on the Kamoba battles, they have returned along with their payouts.” He said as he handed Demsey a thick letter full of bills and then handed you a large parcel of bills too as you noticed the letters on top as addressed to Mr. Draft and Miss Draft.

“So who did you bet on?” You asked him.

“You, you beat out Benny, I bet on you to win the battle and you did.” Demsey said as he took the letter and showed you before you took the letter and showed him.

“You bet on me too?” He cooed to you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed the crown of your head as he read it.

“And with the pay out being one in 20 that you would win your class, I now have at least 2000 pounds here.” You giggled as you opened it to reveal the stacks of pound notes before you put those into the saddle bag with Heavencrest but kept the note and put it into your pocket.

“Would you come to Mirador with me today though? I still wish to have your input and sensibilities on how to handle all of the wealth and businesses and how I should alot what I’ve just inherited and who it should go to, but I do have one thing clear in mind, all businesses need to have unions for the workers, everything has a union back in Dorierra and when Jane told me that you were pro union, it of course makes the best sense, earning money is of course the goal but not at the price of the lives of your workers.” You suggested sweetly as he simply pocketed his own winnings but put the actual letter in a bet into his pocket where your ring had once occupied.

“Of course, I would be delighted to, and I’m honestly happy and relieved we agree on this.” He reassured you before Benny came rushing in with Sierge carrying a whole bag full of money since his bets were structured in such a way that they compounded so he just won over a hundred thousand pounds for Benny beating The Saharan Viper and The Copper Cobra along with your heir father, his wife and his mother.

“Grevu! Lift this curse off of me right now!” Benny demanded of Grevu as you and Demsey watched her pass you curiously as you snickered a laugh.

“Shut up Audra! You just won the world! You have no right to laugh at me!” Benny spat angrily as Grevu growled at her before he got up and balled himself up, like a cat curling up on a rug before a fire and turned away from her as your family was coming into the barn to leave too.

“Aw, does “the happy heart beat” not make you so happy Benny?” You asked her in a teasing, almost taunting tone.

“Don’t you dare say those words to me, there is nothing happy about this situation at all!” Benny said.

“Happy heart beat?” Demsey repeated.

“In the far east- in the emperors harem, that’s how pregnancy is diagnosed and what is said when it’s discovered. It’s a way of diagnosing pregnancy. Dr. Chu told me, that’s why I told Sierge to follow Benny and stay with her.” You revealed.

“And thats...” Demsey began as he looked at you questioningly.

“Yup.” You eagerly nodded with a bright smile.

“Oh good you have not left yet.” Your mother blew out a breath of relief at seeing you as all of them were carrying small packets of money, won from them betting on you for winning the Kamoba tournament.

“No, Demsey is coming to Mirador with us, since he’s been running his businesses with great success in the English market, I want his input to help me decide what I should do with all of the Morrigan’s businesses and help me decide who should get what.” You explained as you happily stood with your arm around his waist as he stood with his arm around your shoulders and happily held the other to your side as Benny just rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Axal! Get your ass down here and have Grevu take this curse off of me this instant! He cursed me last night before the night Kamoba games and I refuse to live another moment under it!” Benny screamed down the barn which got everyone to stare at her in confusion except for you and Demsey who were content to just stand back and see how this was going to play out.

“How did he curse you?” Axal asked with a barely contained grin.

“He just...did! I just need him to lift it!” Benny hotly demanded.

“Right. I don’t believe you. Unless you can give me solid proof and evidence that he did and show me how he cursed you, I’m not getting involved at all.” Axal dismissed as he waived her off and began to walk away.

“He got me pregnant!” Benny desperately confessed as everyone gasped and stared at Benny in shock as you couldn’t help it, you snorted and snickered a laugh which soon infected Demsey too and the others around you.

“Wow! You had sex with Grevu? By heaven above, Sierge’s dick isn’t enough for you that you had to fuck my dragon?! How did he even fit…?” Axal began to ask.

“No! I didn’t fuck your dragon, his cock would split me in half! No, I...he made the seed that was already in me take root and now his magic is protecting that root and I need him to lift his protection of that root so I can remove it!” Benny finally confessed.

“And whose “root” is it?” Axal asked.

“Who knows, it could be mine, it could be Viscount Whiteales or any of the other orc gentlemen you were schmoozing with at the Kamoba lunch and dinner feasts, it’s hard to tell with a whoring slut like her.” Sierge said as everyone ‘ooooh’ed’ with another snickering laugh as Anavia and Loreiris tsked and shook their heads.

“Your mother will be so disappointed in you. You knew penilie- vaginal sex was forbidden for this very reason, is this why you couldn’t get the dowager status?” Loreiris asked.

“Yes, it’s cost me everything! Now Grevu, take it back!” Benny demanded.

“But what about that leverage you were going to use against Audra when and if she could not get you that Dowager status? Surely you can’t fault her- for you- not getting it, because we were all there to hear how she wanted all of us to have that status and didn’t single you out to not have it.” Loreiris pointed out.

“You were going to betray Audra after everything she did for you?” Your mother scuffed in disgust.

“No, I wasn’t, I swear!” Benny said as real fear came back into her eyes.

“But you told me that you were going to.” Loreiris insisted.

“And me,” your heir father insisted.

“And me,” his wife Maradiem added.

“And me,” his mother Anavia added.

“It was just something to say for the Kamoba, I didn’t mean it!” Benny pleaded as your whole family began coming towards her and began to surround her as everyone was glaring at her before she was pushed back so that her back hit the wall.

“What is going on now?” Yalin and her children asked as they came into the stables to see your family off and saw Benny as she ducked and dodged through your family to get to her.

“Please Mama Yalin, you have to help me! Grevu cursed me so that seed took root in my womb and his magic is protecting the root and I need it removed before I could ever go back to Dorierra!” Benny pleaded.

“Well whose seed was it?” Yalin asked.

“Sierge’s.” Benny finally confessed.

“Are you sure? You were seen practically hanging all over all the other orc families yesterday, it could have been any of theirs, after all, you were offering all of them the leverage you had collected for Gregori against Audra and Demsey so Audra could be with Ramsey, but obviously, you see how that didn’t go so well.” Loreiris said as she gestured to you and Demsey as well as to Ramsey who was between Axal and Octavia.

“So you were going to try to sell that leverage to the highest bidder?” Yalin asked Benny as she pulled away from Benny and fixed her with a disapproving glare.

“No!” Benny shook her head no.

“That’s not what she told everyone else, I specifically overheard her tell Kate Whitesale and her brother that she would give that leverage to them so that Kate would be the next Duchess Voyambi and that Benny would be the next Viscountess Whitesale since Sierge was the second son and heir to nothing and had no power or wealth to his name because it all rested with Demsey and how getting that leverage came with ‘the unfortunate side effect of Sierge’s attentions and affections which you did not at all return’.” Loreiris paraphrased.

“I overheard those exact sentiments too, you offered the same thing to the other orc families that day too and swore up and down how you had Sierge’s unwanted and unreciprocated attentions and affections and how you needed “saving from him”.” Axal insisted.

“Oh dear, did you get caught in your own web?” Yalin asked Benny as she shook her head and looked so profoundly disappointed.

“Well, unfortunately, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Because the right thing to do was once you saw that whatever leverage you got by whatever means you used, was no longer wanted or needed, you should have been a good friend to Audra and forgotten all about it. Because I never asked you to get that leverage and I never wanted it used against Audra. Who has clearly already had enough horrible tactics used on her.” Yalin offered.

“And I never asked you to get leverage on her either. So your leverage was and is completely useless to me.” Ramsey insisted.

“Nor I.” Charlotte chimed in.

“No but your father did!” Benny insisted to Ramsey and Charlotte.

“Right, the same one who hired a doctor to poison an old man to death, how did that turn out by the way?” Ramsey sarcastically mocked her before turned to his mother.

“Horribly. I fear your father faces some intense discipline and will be forced to pay recompense with interest for years and years to come.” Yalin answered.

“And once it is known that you are with child, that classifies you as “fallen” and no man in nobility in any country either here or anywhere else in Europa wants a fallen lady, no one will want to claim you. I suppose if you have anyone at Dorierra will take you on- in such a condition, that would be what’s best but for fallen ladies, there are few choices. Maybe the father might be induced to take you, if he will have you but only if you had not betrayed him or tried to cast him off before hand. But with the fortune Sierge just won from the Kamoba, he could have any number of ladies.” Yalin said as she gestured to him.

“And with that fortune he could buy any number of the businesses I just inherited, so it’s not like he’s left with nothing, no fortune or income or power or influence, he could be a man of industry and wealth that might even exceed his brother and he could always claim his own title of nobility, it might not be as high as a Duke but it’s better than nothing, after all we are all Maquis now right?” You pointed out to everyone else who had agreed on staying in England.

“But he’s the one who gave me the leverage against you in the first place!” Benny said as she pointed at Sierge accusingly as everyone then looked at Sierge.

“Look, you and your hands and mouth were very persuasive but I only told you what you wanted to hear. It’s not like anything that I told you was necessarily completely true or at all accurate or even current. Because what’s that saying? Something only ten percent true is still 100% misleading? You’re not the only one who knows how to work other people and you weren’t subtle about the fact that you were working me, but thanks for the inside info to bet on you against the Saharan Viper, even as dirty as you played her, I now have enough money to buy any bride I wanted from Dorierra if I ever wanted one, or I could just as easily court and marry any eligible lady here in England. So, all in all, thanks Benny for doing me the backhanded favor.” Sierge winked at Demsey with a smug smile himself a shrug from his shoulders.

“But the fact that you’re not just willing, but desperately wanting to kill my unborn child because it just happens to inconvenience you and puts your treachery on display and exposes you for who and what you really are. I don’t know if I want you as a wife. I can’t trust that you wouldn’t hurt any other children I could ever give to you if I were to take you as my wife, for any number of reasons. So go ahead, let Grevu lift his protection from you and “uproot” the little sapling and destroy it before it can sprout any further as you so chose to phrase it. You’re free of my attentions and affections as of this moment and every moment to come, exactly how you wanted to be, right?” Sierge questioned rhetorically as even you could see the beginning of tears start to make his eyes glassy as he tried to remain composed as even you could feel how profoundly hurt he was by this betrayal too.

“Yes, you know why? Because you never once respected me! Or women in general. You treated me like a pet, a toy, you feel a woman’s place is in the home, birthing heirs and too stupid for anything else, helpless and weak and completely dependant. I am so much more than you could ever comprehend, let alone appreciate. And being forced to be bonded, much less married to a stupid, honorless, pig headed, stubborn, egotistical, selfish, much less completely incompetent, lackluster lover, who is as reckless with honor as he is money. You are ruination itself! And you will lose all of that wealth as quickly as you got it!” Benny roared angrily as everyone blinked in surprise.

“Wow, been holding that in for a while now huh?” Calla asked Benny.

“Yes, and I’m done, Leumeni, Coravien, come on, we’re leaving. we are going home to Dorierra, we can still catch the train.” Benny barked at her brothers.

“I’m not leaving with you. I’m free, remember? Unlike you, I got dowager status, so I don’t answer to you. Besides, everything I could ever want and need is right here with me in England. Not in Dorierra.” Leumeni answered back calmly as he looked to Kiera who happily took his hand and held it tight.

“And you’re more than welcome to stay at Mirador while you find a fine house of your own.” You offered to him.

“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.” Leumeni smiled happily.

“Me too, if Demsey will take me on as a partner in his soap business, I’ll give him every soap recipe I know and we can have the same soaps and things here that we do at home. Besides, I’m a Marquis here in England and the King offered me a living of ten thousand pounds a year, which I understand is a lot and the other orc ladies here are actually really pretty. So I’m staying too.” Coravien answered his sister back too.

“Yeah can I get in on that soap thing too?” Leumeni asked.

“Absolutely. I’d be happy to have you on board.” Demsey readily agreed as you smiled happily at him as you squeezed him into your side and being so proud to have such a wonderful man as your fiance.

“And London needs a proper moura restaurant,” Storren pointed out.

“Yeah, I ain't going back either, I’d love to open a good moura restaurant. Give that Savoy I keep hearing about a good run for its money.” Brima grinned.

“And my place is with Tzane, I ain’t going back either, not until I marry Tzane and we go back together to gather all of my things from Dorrierra so I can fully move here, Whydah is from what I hear a large home, big enough for more than one couple.” Calla shrugged.

“Mama Yalin?” You called out.

“Yes Audra Dear?” Yalin asked, happy and elated that you were still speaking to her in such an affectionate way, having feared that Gregori had completely destroyed your relationships with their entire family.

“Would it be possible to get a marriage license for Demsey and I to get married sooner than later, he has asked me to marry him and I’ve accepted, and I would like to get married within the week at least so that all the members of my family who wish to return to Dorierra can see me get married in the moura tradition before they leave to go home to Dorierra?” You asked her hopefully as you raised your left hand and turned it so she could see it as everyone gasped excitedly and cheered to see it before offering their congratulations to both of you.

“Surely you can postpone your departure from England for a day or two can’t you Benny? You could still go back with my family when they want to go back.” You offered rather sweetly, if not just a tad smugly because what you had told her in the Kamoba battle was coming true, just the way the gods and goddesses had told you it would.

“Only if Grevu will lift this curse off of me first.” Benny decided.

“Grevu, go ahead, do as she asks. Lift the protection.” Axal decided before Benny marched down and kneeled in front of Grevu who blew a red smoke over her and then inhaled it all back in a moment later.

“Thank you, you overgrown rat with wings.” Benny snipped as she turned away from him before Grevu spitefully growled and knocked her down onto the floor on her way out with his snout as Benny cursed in pain before she felt the pain seep and radiate from her lower belly as she clutched it as everyone else just shook their heads and carried on with business of getting ready to leave as Siege simply walked out of the barn and towards the carriage with his other siblings and their partners since his parents had left Buckingham palace to their London home right after the “court” was ajourned.

“You ready Demsey Darling?” You asked Demsey as you both got into Heavencrest’s and Charlico’s saddles respectfully.

“Absolutely Audra Dearest.” Demsey grinned before he put the helmet on before Heavencrest and Charlico raced to reach to the skies as Demsey and yourself flew to Mirador to discuss business with your family and friends, including Marquise Bellafont because you wanted her to tell her children herself of their own freedom and rise to nobility since the King and Queen had quickly signed off on her nobility so she could show it to her children herself.

Once you arrived home, Rose, Myra’s eldest daughter, was the first to greet you.

“My Lady, you would not believe what the papers have been saying about you.” Rose began.

“Rose, I love you dearly, but I need you to go back inside and get dressed in your Sunday best, your mother is coming with really fantastic, exciting news, and get all of your siblings and tell them to do the same.” You excitedly told her.

“Really?” Rose asked you.

“Yes really, and after today, you and your siblings are servants to no one, not even me.” You hinted as she gasped as she looked from you to Duke Demsey who was nodding in confirmation with you, wearing a similar smile.

“Excuse me then,” Rose happily excused herself as she rushed back into the house and called all of her siblings together and repeated what you told them as they all quickly left and got dressed in their Sunday best and packed everything they owned before their mother arrived and eagerly embraced her children and revealed the truth and then repeated what the King and Queen had told her what the story should be as they all agreed to the story before they came back to you as all of them hugged you tight before you presented them with your winnings.

“Now, this is all I was able to win in the Kamoba battle, take this money, go to a really good dress shop or even a few of them, put this down as a down payment on your new wardrobes. I want every member of your family to dress and appear as lofty as your station permits. I have some jewelry I wish to bestow upon all of you. Although I will insist that all of Agnes’ jewelry be given to Jane along with anything else Jane has any sentimental attachments to and I understand if Jane would like to inherit her mother’s connections and will use them how she sees fit.” You insisted.

“Oh of course, of course.” Myra readily agreed.

“Now it will take time to save up some money for decent dowries for the ladies. But once everyone else gets here, and we all discuss together how we are going to divide everything. I’m sure by the end of tonight, all of us will be satisfied with the outcomes.” You reassured them.

“Thank you Audra, you’ve been so good to us, is there anything we can do to repay you?” Rose asked as she hugged you again.

“Just stick to the story that the King proclaimed, be kind and good to Jane and especially little Edward. He will miss his parents, but hopefully when he grows up, he will learn to accept things. And I want all of you to have the same freedom I’m going to enjoy, and that is to choose for yourselves what your lives will be, who you marry and marry for love if you can at all possible, if you even want to get married that is. But choose happiness, whatever that may be and I will do my best to find some kind of tutor, so that all of you get the same education and same learning and gain understanding of business so that you handle your new acquisitions well and not squander it or let anyone take advantage of you either. You are neither servant or slave to anyone’s will but your own from this moment on.” You urged them before everyone seemed to arrive as you introduced your family to Myra’s children.

You all crammed in around your table as several ladies had to take on the laps of their partners as your steward from Broadcove, Mr. Chattingham, who was so happy to hear of your own victory and in a way, Myra’s victory over his own former masters was key in knowing all the businesses that Edward Senior, Richard and Agnes had, and doubted much had changed in the year since his service to them ended and had incredible insights on what businesses would be best for each of your brothers as well as Myra’s sons as you and Demsey insisted that each business would have a union to protect it’s workers as Mr. Chattingham named who Richard had hired to specifically root out union organizers within his businesses as you knew already who you were going to be immediately firing before you hand them over since your parents had gotten word before they left that a messenger from the King along with Scotland Yard had been dispatched to all of the banks and other businesses and was in the process of having it all turned over to you and put into your name as it was immediately a prerequisite that the unions would be brought in and stay in place or you would not hand any of them over because even in Dorierra, every Dorrieran man was in his own union with the stables so such a thing was not new to you or anyone from your family as even Sierge offered to buy a business himself so that he had something other than his family’s soap business and his soon to be brother in law’s restaurant, but something to call all his own before there was a knock on the door.

“Hi, I’m Mage Amaryllis, Mage Altissia informed me that there was a spell on this house to disable the messengeraries? And she asked me to come and lift it.” She offered.

“Yes, thank you so much for coming, please, do whatever you can.” You invited her.

“Thank you.” She said before she found the absolute center point of the house and closed her eyes before moving and gesturing around herself as you saw what looked like magic shackles begin to break around the messengeraris in each room before she did a pulling down motion from the ceiling and all of a sudden it felt like a fresh breeze flowed through the house as the very air felt lighter and less stuffy or still or smothering.

“There, much better, things should be working much better and much smoother from now on.” Mage Amaryllis smiled.

“Thank you so much, how much do I owe you?” You asked.

“Nothing, the King and Queen have already paid me and I just came from Broadcove and have already lifted this same spell from there. But if you ever do need anything else, either magically or otherwise, here’s my messengerari address as well as my own home address here in London, write or call any time.” She said as she handed you a card with her name and contact information written on it as she had another one for Myra before everyone else also took a card from her before she saw herself out before Myra and all of her children did the same as you assured them that they were all definately invited to your wedding whenever you got a chance to plan it and execute it.

“Ok, I need to try something.” You told your family as you left the dining room and went to the living room took the keypad on the messengerari in the livingroom and punched in the address to your other friends back in Dorierra and smiled excitedly as your friends faces then began to fill the surface as they were equally surprised and happy and excited to see you.

“Demsey!” You called as he came in before you took his hand and introduced him to your friends.

“This is Duke Demsey Voyambi, I’m marrying him as soon as our marriage license comes through and it will be a love match this time.” You informed them proudly as they all gasped and gushed and squealed and offered you their congratulations.

“So like, how soon is soon?” Jenniverre asked.

“Probably a few days,” Demsey answered.

“Oh that’s more than enough time, who wants to fly to London with me?” Jenniverre asked everyone who was on the group call.

“Oh give me an hour to get packed, do you have a room where we could stay?” Jenniverre asked.

“Yes. Is there any way you guys can bring some figs? Like bushel baskets full or even saplings?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah, why?” They asked.

“Pregnancy cravings.” You answered in Marinai with a bashful blush and smile.

“And? Was it at least good?” They eagerly asked.

“Oh, how divine is the god’s blessing!” You said as you waived your hand above your head which was a marinai euphemism for meaning ‘sex so good it’s as if you were having actual sex with the gods’ which got them all to giggle and laugh salaciously.

“Oooh, of course of course, yeah, you got it, we’ll stop by the greenhouses.” Adrilody confirmed.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can get packed and saddled up, we’re flying in, see you soon! I can’t wait!” Jenniverre squealed as she and the others quickly got off the call.

“As if this house wasn’t full enough.” You chuckled to Demsey.

“Well Whydah is huge, they are just as welcome there too, any friend of yours is a friend of mine, just as any enemy of yours is an enemy of mine too.” Demsey offered.

“Thank you.” You thanked him appreciatively as you stood on tip toe as he ducked down to kiss you easier as he couldn’t help but palm your lower belly reverently.

“What does ‘savacia’ mean?” Demsey asked.

“Pregnancy cravings.” You answered.

“Wow, this early?” Demsey asked.

“Oh yeah, moura’s can tell almost instantaneously when we get pregnant, morning sickness hits early but really only lasts a week at the most, usually only a few days, Grevu hid my morning sickness by making you and Axal start throwing up and I was so distracted with the mourkatili poisoning and Dr. Chu did say that I would have cravings but what’s usually the go to thing that those who have been cured from mourkatili is actually- vegetables, like celery, usually rhubarb. So for me, the figs were a surprise and I didn’t think anything of it.” You murmured.

“Who said “savacia”?” Your mother asked as she came into the living room from having walked down the hallway from the bathroom that was in the hallway.

“I didn’t. Calla?” Benny asked her as she came down from claiming a room of her own upstairs.

“Nope, I did.” You volunteered.

“The figs! Figs are your savacia?!” Your mother exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s kind of why I really wanted to get married, rather quickly, to the father.” You answered as you nodded over to Demsey as everyone came rushing in and congratulating you again.

“So I was right?! You are pregnant!” Benny gasped as a smug smile threatened to overtake her face.

“Yes I am, about three and a half weeks along.” You confirmed.

“So I was right about you getting pregnant at the Masquerade Ball.” Benny beamed, feeling vindicated that she her hunch was right.

“Yup, but not by any manwhore as you so claimed, but by him, he just changed his clothes and went under our assumed names we gave each other so as not to cause any suspicion and we’ve been secretly courting for say, the last two months would you say? Keeping it so secret and hidden away was especially hard on both of us, especially when I was being pursued by the Raymonds, wasn’t it?” You readily supplied your family as Demsey didn’t dare disagree with you because that sounded like the perfect explanation for everything as he found himself smiling brightly because that should have been the truth because he had every intention of telling you he wanted to court you at the ball at Havenfield but he got interrupted by Ramsey in the art gallery.

“So hi, I’m Audra Draft, pleasure to meet you.” You said to Benny as you offered your hand to shake hers as she looked both disgusted and disappointed by the fact that her “leverage” wasn’t even real leverage at all as she crossed her arms under her bountiful bosom and scowled at you before you let your hand drop.

“You! You lied to me!” Benny accused Sierge who was just grinning smugly himself, proud of his brother for finally connecting the dots so to speak but he wasn’t about to disagree with those sentiments.

“Yup, it’s true, I did lie to you, because what kind of brother would I be if I actually gave my brother up for something as meaningless as what you talked up our exchange to be? Demsey only gave me Audra’s assumed name, to protect her and her honor and I respected him enough to respect his wishes in protecting her and her honor. Something which you’ve been hell bent on destroying since the beginning. And I wasn’t going to let you actually have anything capable of destroying me and my family.” Sierge tossed back as Benny narrowed her eyes dangerously at him.

“But since she’s pregnant, she’s not “fallen” too?” Benny demanded.

“No, absolutely not, I’m the one that got her that way and I have every intention of making her an honorable and upstanding lady and no one would dare question me or my word about the matter and it’s still early enough that when we take our honeymoon to anywhere she wants to go, it’s not uncommon for new brides to come home pregnant from their honeymoon.” Demsey reasoned.

“Just think, the same could have been for you, if you hadn’t insisted on “uprooting my seed” as you so “delicately” put it.” Sierge murmured from his corner across the room.

“So? How was it? Was it good at least?” Axal murmured in your ear.

“Oh how divine is the gods blessing!” You repeated with the same way you did before which got your whole family to cheer and laugh as Benny scuffed in disgust.

“You know, maybe you should go back to Dorierra, you’ve beaten The Saharan Viper in Kamoba of all things, surely any man would think twice before harassing you on the train.” Your mother suggested with a forced polite smile.

“You will have to hurry, the last train leaves in an hour and a half.” Tzane suggested as he looked at the time from the clock in the room.

“Fine, I will.” Benny said as she went back upstairs and got repacked as you called your carriage around and got Benny’s things loaded up as she used her remaining fee she had been paid just for coming as Leumeni and Coravien saw her off.

“Well now, shall we go out to dinner? To the Savoy perhaps?” You suggested to everyone else once Benny rode away in the carriage.

“But I’ll need you to help me get dressed,” you urged Demsey before taking him by the hand and leading him upstairs to your bedroom to finally strip out of your pant suit since you had long since peeled yourself out of your riding leathers and the moment the door was shut Demsey’s hands were already all over you, practically ripping these clothes off of you.

“So what does “ah-shamala-show-in” mean?” Demsey asked as you helped him get undressed to a degree too as you walked him towards a chair for a quick sex session before dinner.

“It means ‘oh how divine is the gods blessing’ in the literal translation. But it’s a euphemism in marinai that means ‘sex so good it’s like having sex with a god’.” You giggled as you got him into the chair and readily seated yourself on your now familiar friend and began to ride him with gusto.

“Ah, that makes everyone’s reactions much more understandable. And may I just say- the feeling is very much mutual.” Demsey happily replied as he drove up into you with equal passion as he held you so close and looked up at you like you were a goddess he would be devoutly worshiping for the rest of his life as you welcomed his affections with open arms, literally, as your moura marks were lighting up the room brighter than any candle or fire could.

“Gods I just should have told you sooner, I should have been able to tell you at the ball at Havenfield that I wanted to court you.” Demsey confessed as nipped at your ear after kissing up the column of your graceful neck.

“I have a feeling you were about to before Ramsey cut you off.” You smiled as your fingers carded through his hair and scratched deliciously at his scalp while his own fingernails raked down your back as his cock was exactly what your body had been craving this whole time as you were almost beside yourself in happiness that you actually sexually craved your soon to be husband and were almost helplessly attracted to him on every level.

“I should have been rude and insisted on saying it anyway.” Demsey confided.

“Well in my mind and heart, you did and obviously, you have my answer.” You giggled before you kissed him soundly.

“You can say that you wanted to keep it quiet out of respect for Ramsey and of course Gregori and Yalin and you wanted to make sure that I had my choice of any bachelor of my choosing but seeing me being openly courted by another just cemented our feelings for each other and simply as a ruse you pretended to be interested in your other options.” You reassured him just before you found your release and, for the sake of the others in the house, you kept your keening cry of bliss down by biting down on the juncture of his neck and shoulder and whimpering while your body shuddered in delight which only spurned Demsey to finally release his precious seed into the only “field” it belonged in as he held you so tight.

“I am never, ever- letting you go.” Demsey professed as he nuzzled the crux of your neck and shoulder and breathed in deeply, cementing this wonderful smell of you in his mind and was so relieved that the woman who he had fallen in love with and the woman he had fallen into lust with- were the same woman and supremely relieved that any stigma or jealousy you may have felt when you found out about the “other Audra” was now done and over with and any he had felt had melted into nothingness. This was so much better than he could have ever hoped, or imagined or even feared and once you both recovered he, very patiently and lovingly helped you get dressed in a gown that you insisted matched what he was wearing so that you looked like a proper couple before simply putting your hair up in a simple bun to hide it’s rather shortened nature.

You returned downstairs to where your family had gathered and had to take a few carriages to the restaurant before they happily got one big table put together as Demsey invited his parents back for the meal to see for themselves and they were so happy and overjoyed to have you in the family even if they were disappointed that Benny had chosen not to stay with Sierge but they were relieved and pleasantly surprised to hear the news of your “secret” courting of their son and realized that was why you were polite with Ramsey but were not returning his efforts and realized that Demsey had actually played that circumstance cleverly and were thrilled to have Leumeni and Coravien added to the family soap business as well as Leumeni, Calla and Storren added to their family and eagerly talked to Brima and Coravien about the other orc ladies that were in the gentry before as they of course had their own ideas about the wedding as Demsey made sure to insist that it should be as soon as your friends could arrive and that it should be rather small, with only family and close friends because your wedding to Edward had been so big and such a huge ordeal that you didn’t need or want that big of a wedding which you readily agreed with which his parents could not argue with as it was readily agreed that the London home would be better equipped to handle such an affair then since the majority of the guests would be at your own home as Amara and Storren also announced their courting, along with Kiera and Leumeni and Calla and Tzane as their weddings would be much more planned and prepared because Calla, Kiera and Amara wanted the bigger, grander weddings which you and Demsey did confirm you would be back from your honeymoon in time to attend and you were all relieved when Demesy’s parents gladly accepted the cover that the King had insisted on, especially with you and Jane especially providing off the cuff “details” that added more “authenticity” to it and made it sound closer to the gospel truth as it was accepted as such as Jane was given the most sincerest sympathies for the sudden loss of her parents and their sanity but the fact that she was protected because of her being at the Palace of Windsor as you continued to eat dinner with Demsey on one side of you and Jane on the other, just as it should be.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 21 #regency era orc period drama #regency orcs #orcs #orc love story #orc romance #Mouras

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edamamechips · 4 years ago

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Idk if this is your thing, so feel free to ignore, but I must ask: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Hi love! you are right and this is definitely not my thing but i would do anything for you! (not in a creepy way. i just really like you and am in awe of whatever you do) Thanks for sending this in <3 i am sorry if this is late, i kind of had to get over the initial shock of receiving one of these. Enough with the self loathing, moving on

For the resolution of whatever happened in 4x17, 4x18, i am going to go with the brilliant theory that @sullypants came up with because it ties up a lot of loose ends very well and gives us a cleaner canvas to work with post time jump.

However, i would like the time jump plot device and also to see the core four take different paths because that would help them grow and mature(yes i know they can grow together but i am not eloquent enough to explain why they need to go different directions kay? They just do.) for that to happen, the fact that charles has been hypnotizing betty comes into light post time jump after the whole fallout.

So post seven year time jump,

Jughead: i think there are two ways in which the fandom interprets jughead (one is the southside serpents jughead, the serpent king one, who lives in the moment and is more about the collective belonging thing and the other is s1/prep school jughead who is more ambition driven and less about fitting in). Subjectively speaking, i think jughead would go on to pay his full attention to finishing his novel after his breakup with betty as he is overcome with self doubt and long distance (very Dan Humphrey in s6 but def not as vindictive). The novel helps him sort out his emotions and is his attempt to move on from his “old life”.(his book is titled closure) He tries to find love and after a few failed attempts he meets jessica who is the complete opposite of betty. But jughead finds himself comparing her with betty almost constantly and old feelings resurface. *dun dun dun* also definitely defenestrating the alcoholic plotline until and unless we consider charles long distance hypnotizing jughead??

Betty: betty tries to sort out her feelings for archie and doesn’t wholly understand what made her kiss him. It's almost as if she blacked out(eyes emoji). Hence, bland musty flour barchie doesn't happen. betty excels academically and gets recruited by the FBI. she also returns home every thanksgiving (not christmas because she likes staying cooped up alone and eating chinese, don't ask me why. I am projecting) and everytime she returns, she hopes she’ll get to see jughead but she never really does. However betty makes amends with veronica after a lot of discussions and promises and one very emotional sleepover later. Betty is probably dating a fellow fed (who she meets while sneaking into the file cabinet to work on one of the “unsolved” cases and gets caught by him).

Veronica: veronica and archie breakup after prom and she heads out for college the next day to her ivy league college and excels at it. veronica is DEFINITELY not married. She has her own very successful business and is pretty stable and happy being single and having a few flings with some men (and women). She probably returns to riverdale on the occasion of thanksgiving when she stumbles across very successful business man Reggie and they bond over whatever people who run businesses bond over.

Archie: archie too doesnt understand what made him kiss betty but meets a therapist at pops who explains it was his PTSD etc etc. archie joins the army on accident instead of the naval academy. (again, idk why) and is “best friends” with another fellow veteran who saved him from getting shot during [insert something that army does and involves shooting]. They return home together for thanksgiving to surprise mary and her wife but discover that they are away. So archie asks his “friend” to live with him for the weekend. (WINK WINK) BI ARCHIE ENTER.

As for cheryl and toni, i think they will breakup when toni realises that she can do much better than cheryl and not get gaslighted by her girlfriend. Social worker Toni moves in with married kevin/fangs and agrees to be the surrogate for their baby. Cheer coach Cheryl (side gig tarot reader) has a fling with tabitha and learns the meaning of “no”

and for the mystery plot, they are all back home for thanksgiving when betty finds charles’ old FBI files while cleaning out and figures out the whole (charles-hypnotised-betty-and-messed-with-her-childhood-memories) and discovers that yoga instructor alice has not seen polly or her twins. Betty and jughead try to track down charles together(!) and gratuitous amounts of pining ensue (lots of lingering eye contact across pops, jealous milkshake sipping and oops! we touched and oops i fell on ur lips and now i can’t get back up). we discover that jughead’s girlfriend broke up with him before he came to riverdale and also betty’s fed boyfriend is actually her fed bestfriend and betty was a beard(everyone is gay here except bughead kay?) and wham! they do the devil’s tango because patience is for suckers.

Anyways, we learn charles has hypnotized the twins somehow and drives a haunted truck thing called the mothman because of it’s red headlights and someone finds polly’s body in the middle of the road but in a twist of plot that surprises no one that polly isn’t actually dead but is hiding out in the fuckbunker where bughead (obviously) find her. And the core four get involved somehow and they take down charles and maybe gets beaten down by jughead “knuckle brass” jones which are actually betty’s knuckle brasses.

That’s about it. Short and sweet.

#asks #arsenicpanda #WITH ALL THE AMAZING GOODS #seriously what a blessing #oh wait the tags #riverdale #riverdale season 5 #riverdale season 5 spoilers #bughead #i dont know how to tag stuff #also if the long post annoys someone #hit me up to put this mammoth under the cut #oookayy #thats about it #i am sorry for being a wordy bitch #bugvarchie #riverdale speculation #riverdale spoilers

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sleepymarmot · 4 years ago

Text

Opinion: MAG 187 doesn’t invalidate Helen’s more sympathetic moments

It is possible to interpret the episode as retconning everything the Distortion has ever said and done into a manipulation targeted at Jon, which would undo the character’s complexity and make them revolve entirely around the protagonist. The key for this interpretation seems to lie in the following exchange:

ARCHIVIST You worked to hurt us and help us, all with the same smile, until we can barely tell one from the other. Keeping us off-balance, constantly second-guessing our own opinions of you. Never quite crossing a line we could never forgive, but never putting yourself on the line either. And when one face finally stopped smiling, you just changed the face.

HELEN Fine. So if that’s all true… why? Why would I do any of that? What’s my actual motive?

ARCHIVIST I don’t think you even have one. It’s just what you are.

But I don’t think most of what was said here is new information.

Let’s go back to season 3. Here’s how the newborn Helen Distortion explains her identity:

HELEN Michael isn’t me. Not now.

ARCHIVIST What happened?

HELEN He got… distracted. Let feelings that shouldn’t have been his overwhelm me. Lost my way.

In other words, the Distortion’s modus operandi is a long, long game of cat and mouse (see also: MAG 146 Threshold). Michael got sidetracked by his (or Michael Shelley’s) revenge against the Archivist(s) and decided to actually kill the mouse. But it was unnatural for the Distortion, so it shook off the troublesome identity, and Helen was both an instrument to get rid of Michael and a continuation of what was started by him and worked so well.

ARCHIVIST A-are you still going to kill me?

HELEN No. That was Michael’s desire, not mine.

The Distortion doesn’t want to send the Archivist into its corridors. Why would it, when it’s so rewarding to misdirect and mess with him in other ways?

Now, for episode 115.

HELEN I… I’m not… I’m not entirely sure. I’m… having trouble. I don’t think I was meant to be Helen.

ARCHIVIST I’m – I don’t understand.

HELEN Neither do I. Michael was… pulling away. His anger was interfering. I don’t, I don’t think I have a choice but to be Helen. Self is difficult.

ARCHIVIST Michael, he, uh, he, he wasn’t meant to be you either, though, was he?

HELEN No.

There’s an internal conflict between Helen and the Distortion -- just like there was between Michael and the Distortion. I don’t think the new episode invalidates or undoes that. On the contrary: it restated that Michael strayed from the Distortion’s purpose, which means Helen could have done the same.

HELEN Something happened when I became ‘Helen’. She wasn’t right, she wasn’t ready.

ARCHIVIST I don’t…

HELEN Before, talking to you made Helen feel better.

ARCHIVIST You’re not that Helen!

HELEN I just want… I just want to feel better.

Helen was supposed to be a meal that replenished the Distortion’s energy. But it seems that the food was not as fully digested as the Distortion would prefer, and tried to bite back.

ARCHIVIST Wh-what? Why should I believe… a-a-any of this? You’ve told me over and over that you’re… what was the phrase? The ‘throat of delusion’? All of this is –

HELEN I have never told you a lie, Archivist. I wouldn’t dare. I, I just thought you might understand.

ARCHIVIST Uh… How could I possibly…

HELEN We’re both changing, Archivist. I had hoped, that together –

The Distortion has never lied (and now we know why). The Distortion has truly changed. Its new face genuinely wanted Jon’s company, just like the previous face had wanted him dead. But both faces interact with Jon in a way that leaves him confused and upset, because such is their nature.

In MAG 131, Helen insists that her identity is not a mask but a new but inseparable part of herself. As we now know, she is not lying:

ARCHIVIST

You’re still wearing her face.

HELEN

Not this again. I’m not “wearing” anything, Archivist. I am at least as much ‘Helen Richardson’ as you are the ‘Jonathan Sims’ that first joined this Institute. Things change. People change. It happens.

We get a double confirmation that Helen is different from the Distortion’s previous incarnations in MAG 146, in the words of both Helen and her victim:

This wasn’t like before; there was no playfulness here, none of that malicious joy that I had always felt coming off it. Now there was just a cold hunger, a deep anger, as though I had no right to just stand there looking at it. The street was silent, but I could feel it screaming at me to open it.

HELEN (all business) Oh, well; the son, I was pursuing long before I was even Michael. And technically, I didn’t eat the old man. He passed away from terror long before I got a chance to open properly.

ARCHIVIST His son Marcus – he – he was fine when I read his father’s statement two years ago, but now, suddenly, I can’t get through to him.

HELEN No. I imagine not. I decided it was time to finish that game a few months ago.

ARCHIVIST You – Why?

HELEN Not sure. I suppose Helen didn’t have quite the same attachment to him as a project. I’m not quite as much for decades-long campaigns of subtle terror these days.

ARCHIVIST (soft) That’s horrible.

HELEN Is it? We do what we need to do when it comes to feeding, don’t we? (pointed) Don’t we, Archivist?

Helen Distortion doesn’t derive joy from terrorizing people for months or years with doors. That’s just food now. Now she gets the same joy from messing with people with the help of her humanlike appearance and personality.

An often-quoted line from MAG 152:

HELEN Even if it were capable of doing so, what possible reason would the Eye have to change how you feel, when it makes no difference to your actions? Helen was like you, at first. She felt such guilt over taking people. Until one day she realized she wasn’t going to stop doing it. So she chose to stop feeling guilty.

Again, the new episode confirms two things: 1) Helen wasn’t lying. 2) Helen was telling this to Jon to make him doubt his loyalties. And again, this is not new information! She laughs at his misery and confusion very openly!

Episode 157. Jon gets a shocking reminder that Helen is Just Here To Troll:

HELEN Because I have a good enough sense of what’s going on to know that it will be much more fun without my involvement! (begins laughing)

...

ARCHIVIST Just tell me what’s going on. Please.

HELEN (gleefully) Bad things, Archivist. Really bad things.

MAG 164, Helen’s first appearance in s5. There’s so much going on, let’s try to list at least some of it: she congratulates jonmartin on their relationship, immediately tries to play them against each other, cheerfully deflects all blame onto Jon and also Georgie and Melanie, admits to betrayal, announces she wants to be friends “again”, then expresses pity that Jon isn’t hostile to her enough. Absolutely everything she does is about creating relationship chaos.

MAG 166, second encounter with Helen post-Change, and she is delighted to see disagreement between Jon and Martin unprompted by her:

MARTIN Yeah, I, I, I think we should go for it, get our murder on!

ARCHIVIST (disbelief) Sorry, what?

HELEN (surprised delight) Yes, Martin!

In MAG 177, she moves the focus of ridiculously blatant manipulation and provocation onto Basira, and also doesn’t bother to hide she enjoys scaring her “friends”:

HELEN Not interrupting anything, Am I?

MARTIN Christ, Helen, you scared the life out of me.

HELEN [Insincere] Sorry, darling.

And finally, MAG 183. By now, everyone in the scene is aware that she’s here just to get a rise out of our heroes and metaphorically eat popcorn.

MARTIN Look. Listen, I’m getting really sick of all thi–

ARCHIVIST Leave it, Martin. She’s just trying to get under your skin.

MARTIN Yeah? Well, she’s really good at it!

HELEN Aww. Thanks, sweetie. But to be honest, I’m mainly just here to see which path you choose.

Which brings us to MAG 187. We already know that Helen isn’t Jon and Martin’s “friend” as in “ally” -- she hangs out with them to provoke strong responses and sow chaos. The plot twist is that she’s not just doing it for fun, like a human would -- it is her way of avatar feeding.

The Distortion has always been a trickster. I am glad that they died this way, instead of becoming either an over-the-top villain or a reluctant hero -- before the plot could corner them into becoming one. And as Jon said, the reason Helen had to die was not her trickster nature, but the side she picked on the “Eyepocalipse: keep or cancel?” issue.

The reveal in 187 does not contradict the information we had before, and so it doesn’t retcon or undo the complexity or character development that the Distortion had. The fact that the Distortion fed on Jon (and others’) reaction to them does not mean that they never had any motivations or thoughts beyond that. Jon says it himself: “keeping us off-balance” is not the Distortion’s motivation, it’s “who they are”, it’s the natural, instinctive way they conduct themselves. We have learned that the Distortion's behavior was Eldritch Trolling instead of Regular Trolling, that's all.

#the magnus archives #tma spoilers #mag 187 #helen distortion #blah blah blah

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companionjones · 4 years ago

Text

Mine Now

Requested by: Anon

Request: Okay so I saw this somewhere and now it’s like all I can think about. It’s a Criminal Minds x reader where they think R is the unsub, starts trying to break them R is cocky until they touch a sensitive nerve then R breaks but still doesn’t admit because well, they did not do it. Kinda like that one episode with Morgan in the first season It can be a pairing with whoever you want. Thank you!

Fandom: Criminal Minds (circa. season 7 I think)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader, Reader x OC I guess

Warnings: A reference to cursing, but no actual cursing

*******

“Why don’t you guys just give up?” you groaned to the mirror in front of you. I’ve been here for five hours, and my story hasn’t changed. That means I’m telling the truth, right?”

On the other side of the glass, Morgan argued your case. “They’re right. They haven’t confessed to anything since we brought them in. Are we sure we have the right person?”

“We have to,” rebutted Emily, “All of the victims were ride-sharers. They were all summoned to Y/n’s house, and that’s the last place the victims were heard from. Y/n has to be our unsub.”

“I’m going back in,” announced Hotch. His gaze was set on the interrogation room.

Rossi shook his head. “Come on, Hotch. Give it a break. We’ll send someone else in there to throw Y/n off...How about Reid?”

The younger agent glanced up from the report he was reading, clearly taken off guard. “What?”

Hotch dismissed the offer. “No. I think, at this point, we’ll have better luck with someone Y/n is familiar with.”

“Hey! Welcome back!” you greeted in a way-too-chipper fashion. “Decided to take another shot at me?”

Hotchner didn’t respond to your question. He took the seat in front of you. “Let’s entertain the idea, for a moment, that you didn’t do it. Can you think of anyone who would? Someone who has access to your ride-sharing accounts and your home?”

You were quiet for just a second longer than normal. “I have no clue. Isn’t it your job to catch the--what do you guys call them?--the unsub?”

Hotch was just starting his response when the door opened.

“Y/n, why didn’t you call me?” the man at the door inquired.

“Who are you?” Hotch asked the obvious question.

The mystery man was affronted. “I am Y/n’s lawyer. Now I’m assuming none of you feds bothered to check my client’s local traffic cameras, because the footage clearly shows every victim’s car driving away from my client’s home. Maybe, just maybe, the victims logged out of their ride-sharing accounts. Did that ever occur to you?”

The lawyer took over the room. He made it impossible to talk over him. Yet, Hotch barely paid attention to him. Hotch’s eyes were on you.

As soon as the lawyer entered, you shut down. You were no longer as outspoken as Hotch was used to. You wouldn’t even look up. You kept your eyes glued to the interrogation table.

Before Hotch could argue, the lawyer announced, “I’m taking Y/n with me. You feds can have them back if you ever get any actual evidence against them.”

The lawyer stormed out of the interrogation room with you in tow.

Meanwhile, in the observation room, Morgan made a phone call. “Garcia, why didn’t we know that cameras in the area picked up the victims’ cars leaving L/n’s house?”

“What?” the technical analyst was flabbergasted, offended even. “Honey, who do you take me for? I checked the footage of every camera within three blocks. And let me tell you, nothing--What in the world?” All the time she had been talking, Garcia had been typing away at her keyboard. Just because she was good at her job, she was rechecking the cameras in question. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she gawked at her computer screen.

Derek was feeling left out. “What? What is it?”

“Well, the cameras show the cars leaving Y/n’s house now, but they didn’t before,” Garcia explained. “That wouldn’t make any sense...unless...hang on...”

Morgan heard more frantic typing over the phone.

“Yep. I was right. This footage was doctored,” informed the technical analyst, “Someone replaced the old footage with new footage of the cars driving away.”

Morgan chuckled, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Don’t worry,” Garcia seductively reassured, “You can make it up to me when you get home.”

“You know I will,” Derek played along before hanging up. “Hotch, the lawyer was lying,” Morgan informed his boss as Hotch entered the room. “The footage he was talking about was altered.”

Rossi wondered, “Who could it have been altered by?”

“Guys, you aren’t going to believe this.” JJ came bursting into the room.

Apparently, the security cameras out side the police station caught you and your lawyer kissing before getting into his car to leave.

“So, Y/n has an accomplice. Maybe he’s the guy who hacked into the cameras on Y/n’s street while we had Y/n here,” assumed Derek.

“I agree with him doing the hacking,” Hotch admitted, “My guess is it’s either the lawyer himself, or somebody working for him. However, I don’t think he’s Y/n’s accomplice. I believe he has more to do with this than Y/n does.”

Reid was as intrigued as the rest of the team. “What makes you think that?”

Hotch asked, “Did any of you see how Y/n responded when he walked into the room?”

JJ was the first to respond. “No, all of my attention was on the idiot in a suit that wouldn’t let you get a word in.”

The rest of the team seemed to agree with the blonde agent.

“Well, as soon as he showed up, Y/n completely shut down,” explained Hotch, “They seemed entirely submissive to him, and even frightened. I believe our unsub is the lawyer.”

Rossi inquired, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go catch the guy!”

“We shouldn’t have let them go,” Hotch rebuked, “Now we don’t know where they are.”

“Excuse me?” a lower-level detective entered the room and informed the team, “We got a strange call. They said they were the suspect that was just here, they told us to trace the call, and they haven’t spoken since.”

Hotch was immediately on high alert. “That’s Y/n telling us where they are. You have their location?” he asked the detective.

The detective nodded and read an address from a piece of paper. “Alright, let’s go,” Hotch began to follow most of the team out of the room, but Rossi stopped him.

“Hotch, are you sure about this?” he questioned. “This may well be a trap that both the lawyer and Y/n set up.”

The lead agent shook his head. “I don’t think so, Rossi. The body language I saw...it’s not something you can fake.

“Whoa there,” David looked Aaron over. “That wouldn’t be infatuation I’m seeing, would it?”

Hotch returned eye contact with Rossi so Rossi wouldn’t think he was faking anything...which Aaron definitely wasn’t...probably. “You know it isn’t. I barely know this person.”

“That’s right,” confirmed Rossi. “Now you just need to make sure you don’t forget that.”

Hotchner didn’t spare Rossi another glance as he exited.

The ride to the address, which Garcia snooped out to be the lawyer’s (your boyfriend’s) house, was quiet. Everyone had time to think, including a certain supervisory special agent, whose mind was set on his feelings for you.

Peacefulness would prove to be a true comfort because once the BAU arrived, the situation was thrown into chaos. As the SUVs pulled up, gunshots sounded from inside the residence. The team, as orderly as they could, rushed from their cars and toward the home. When they got through the door, they saw you and the lawyer. The lawyer had a gun to your throat.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” warned Morgan.

JJ ordered, “Put the gun down!”

“Oh, good,” your tone was disproportionately relieved in the face of your condition, “You got my phone call.” Your eyes were on Aaron in particular.

The lawyer started to ramble. “It’s all your fault,” he was talking to you. “You just had to be taken in by the cops. We had a good thing going, you and I. You gave me no other choice other than to pin it on you when you were stupid enough to practically turn yourself in. I even tried to give you the easy way out by taking you back home and ending you myself. Then, you go and call the FBI. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you love them more than me at this point.”

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that, too.” You laughed without an once of humor involved. “You tricked me into being with you in college and roped into your psychopathic life. I’m done being too afraid of you to say anything.”

The lawyer tightened his grip on you and the gun dug further into your neck. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk at all.”

“You don’t have the authority to say that,” Hotch suddenly argued. “They’re not yours anymore.”

You gaze toward Hotch changed.

Hotch looked right at you when he finished, “They’re mine now.”

Despite your position, your eye brows raised in surprise.

“What did you just say?” the lawyer dared Hotch to repeat himself.

The leader did so without hesitance. “I said Y/n is mine. Even after spending so little time in the interrogation room together, I convinced them to choose me over you.”

“Shut up,” the lawyer gritted out.

Hotch continued, “You must be pretty inconsequential for it to be so easy for me to--”

“Shut up!” exploded the lawyer. In his fury, he took his gun off your neck and pointed it at Hotchner..

As soon as he did that, the whole team shot him down, including Aaron.

A string of relieved, yet also very bewildered curses left your mouth as you crouched down to the ground before your knees buckled. You were less than a foot from you dead boyfriend’s body.

Hotch ignored everything else and went to you first. “Come on,” he invited, “Let’s get you out of here.”

The next time you spoke, you and Hotch were sitting facing out the back of an ambulances. “So, how much time in prison am I looking at?” you wondered aloud to the FBI agent next to you.

He shrugged, “None, most likely. You were under duress the whole relationship, and from what I can tell, you had nothing to do with what he was actually doing. I’ll give you the number of a good lawyer I know. She should be able to get you out of this without jail time.”

“It just doesn’t seem fair,” you agonized, “I shouldn’t get to just walk away.”

Hotch turned his gaze toward you. “If it’s any consolation, it’s not going to be that easy. You’re going to carry this with you the rest of your life. I’ll give you the numbers of some therapists I know, too. It helps to talk about all this.” He handed you his business card.

“Wow. I should’ve known the FBI agent would be connected,” you joked softly. Then, you turned it over.

Aaron’s personal number was on the back. “And if you ever want to talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll-I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” your gentle, tired voice remarked. “I’ll take you up on that, Agent Hotchner.”

“Aaron, please,” he assured.

You smiled, “Aaron.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that hear and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics on Criminal Minds over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you. <3 <3 <3

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #agent aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch x reader #agent hotchner #agent hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #mine now #companion jones #two months of writers block and 17 pages of rambling lead to this

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koraesrambles · 4 years ago

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Finally got a chance to watch Walker tonight and I’m really excited because I really liked it. Like, really, really liked it!

I wasn’t expecting to. I’m not a big country person, I never saw the original show, I don’t really care about cowboys or whatever. I wanted to watch it because I love Jared and wanted to support him in his new project. But wow! I am so surprised by how much I liked it!

I liked all of the characters. There wasn’t a single character that they introduced where I thought, “Uh, skip. I don’t care about this.” I liked everyone in Walker’s family, INCLUDING Stella. And writing a well-written angry teenage girl is HARD. It’s so easy to make her overdramatic and annoying but I felt her every emotion. I didn’t think she was over the top and her interactions with Walker were absolutely perfect. I’m way more invested in her than I thought I’d be.

And then August, the son. My heart just breaks for him. I wanna wrap him up in blankets and tell him it’s going to be okay. I want to grab his daddy by the shoulders and shake him because he needs to be there for his kids. But I felt Walker’s struggle as well. And a big part of why I forgive him for not being there for his kids is probably because he’s Jared, but I think that the way he’s written and Jared’s acting have a huge hand in it as well. I really feel the struggle that he’s going through and all the confusion swirling in his mind. I mean, he’s gotta get over himself and be there for his family. Missing the welcoming party was an absolute ASSHOLE move. But I still feel for him, you know?

I LOVE Micki and her boyfriend. Love that they are an interracial couple that doesn’t involve a white person (it feels like all the interracial couples I see on tv have at least one white person. That’s not a problem I guess I’d just like some variety, dude.) I am so so so excited that it doesn’t seem like they’re going to cram in some super awkward sexual tension between Micki and Walker. That was the thing I was dreading in this show. I just didn’t want them to have the two partners be love interests. Please for all that is good and sacred can we please avoid that.

Which brings us to the barkeep. A boy girl friendship that isn’t powered by sexual tension? SO CUTE. We didn’t get very long with them but I thought they were super adorable together.

Walker’s family had great chemistry together and I loved all of their interactions. I can already tell I’m going to love the little brother. I love that they casually dropped that he’s gay. I love that he’s been there for Walker’s kids while Walker’s been gone. I love the generational gap between Walker’s dad with the “mexican girl” and Liam responding, “Mexican-American, dad, come on.” I love that they’re going to be tackling these issues. I didn’t feel force fed or preached to ever. I just enjoyed the whole thing.

But the most amazing thing to me, the thing that stood out more than anything else: There is not an ounce of Sam Winchester in Cordell Walker.

This should not be a surprise. We know that Jared is a phenomenal actor. He played several different characters throughout supernatural’s run, and every single one was distinct and separate from our man Sam. But they all occupied Sam’s space. They all existed within Sam because they were entities possessing him. Sam makes me want to wrap a blanket around his shoulders, stand up to the people abusing him, and yell at them to back off and leave him alone. Sam makes me feel safe and I have so much love for him I could burst with it. Cordell Walker is entirely different. He’s confident in a way Sam never was. He moves differently. He’s hot headed in a way that (no matter how much early season spn tried to convince us) Sam never, ever was. Walker takes full advantage of his huge height while Sam always crouched down. There wasn’t an ounce of puppy-dog eyes in this man’s face. He’s entirely, and completely new.

And there’s a sadness to that, but also a liberation. This is a new story, with new characters. I’m not going to spend the entire series waiting for Dean to show up. I’m not going to be waiting for demons to start to appear and make Sam’s life hell. Because this isn’t Sam, and he’s occupying an entirely different world. And I’m so excited to explore it with them. I don’t love him like I love Sam. I probably never will (Can there be more than one soulmate fictional character?) but I’m prepared to learn to love him. I’m already invested in every single one of his relationships and eager to watch them grow. I will absolutely be tuning in every single week.

Thanks for surprising me Walker. I can feel Jared’s love for this project in every single scene. I’m ready to learn to love it too.

#CW Walker #Jared Padalecki #Walker pilot #Walker 1x01

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thoughtsarestupid · 3 years ago

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From the sidelines; asexual daddy’s dating advice.

Part three: to cling or not to cling, that is the question.

Ok so everyone should know that I now am taking requests via a discord server, and that soon enough I will also do any asks sent to make an episode on something specific. Good news for the ones with a question.

On to the meat of the episode.

Being clingy. It’s annoying, but you never know when you’re doing it. So let me get down to the bottom of this (if you want to get to the bottom of this post to skip to the solution be my guest. Just reblog it if you do.)

Time to play a little Sherlock, the 3 episodes per season Netflix show starring bandersnatch cream cheese.

First of all; the definition of clingy. According to

Google

(Of a garment) liable to cling; clinging

(Of a person) too emotionally dependent.

Thanks for not helping at all, goooooooooooogle.

(Since I’m Not bri’ish or American it also gave a suggestion in my own language, literal translation would be “syrupy”)

Now the reason this doesn’t help us is simple; “too” is an extremely subjective term. As you might have noticed, for one person the threshold to being clingy is much lower than another. Which means that this segment of words has been useless so far.

Ahem. New search term; emotionally dependent.

According to

*clears throat*

Cadabam’s hospitals dot com

Emotional dependency is a state of mind where a person is incapable of taking full responsibility for their own feelings. They do have emotions like sorrow, grief, heartbreak, anxiety, and depression but they cannot embrace, accept, or nurture these feelings.

Allow me to highlight a bit there;

Emotional dependency is when a person is incapable of taking full responsibility for their own feelings. They do have emotions but they can’t deal with these feelings.

Yeah.

To put it bluntly; this means that every relationship should have you being clingy. Since… dealing with feelings together should kinda be the main objective here.

No I’m not trying to get you laid, I’m here for romance, remember?

Back to the point; emotional dependency is favorable, without getting to the point of being clingy. However, we’re not done with the research machine yet.

Next search term is “what do people find too clingy” and it brings us to

Bustle doot com

Where our lovely baby brains are spoon-fed a top 9 of clingy acts.

Blowing up your phone (not with dynamite)

Feeling insecure around attractive friends or coworkers (sir that’s a natural reaction)

Coming on too strong on social media

Hates it when you go out without them (might also relate to possessiveness)

Tags along everywhere uninvited (they don’t invite me to the parties but I still arrive)

Don’t seem to have their own hobbies or interests

They’re holding back their real opinions

Needs constant reassurance of your love

Physically clingy

Well

We’ve got a list.

I like lists.

So, we’ve got a list and some shit to consider. We’ve done the research (using ggogoldowtcom)

So here’s where the solution begins.

First of all it names blowing up your phone. Easy enough to avoid; the article reads that “clingy” text storms usually involve wanting to know what the other is doing at all times.

Solution to be less clingy; make a deal with yourself to only check what the other is doing 1-3 times per day. If that goes well, move to 1-3 times per 2 days, all the way up to a week. 1-3 checkups per week is usually seen as a reasonable amount.

Second on the list is feeling insecure around attractive people. This is, in fact, a non-issue. If you consider yourself less attractive than some of the people your partner regularly interact with, then realize that you are in fact in a serious relationship with your partner, and therefore your partner finds you or something about you to be more compelling than all of those suckers. You see Dwight with the six pack from HR over there? He’s probably really full of himself. Natasha from administration with the face? She has a terrible accent that’s a big turnoff for your partner. You see; your partner chose you to be in a relationship with. Not any of the other people. That means they prefer you over them, so you have nothing to worry about.

Coming on too strong on social media. It notes constant posting about the two (or more, I don’t judge) of you being together, wanting to check the “in a relationship” mark too soon and (and I quote) “grilling you about the person standing in the background of a picture you posted four years ago”. Problem; relationship and social media and clingy ness.

Solution to be less clingy; listen to me and repeat. “Social media is not a good way to monitor your relationship. You do not need to let everyone constantly know that you’re in a relationship.”

Let them find out when you tell them individually. Social media is overrated anyways.

Next up; hates it when they go out without you. Now, I can’t do much about this one yet as I want to keep this last bit for the last part of the episode so scroll down a bit.

5 makes tagging along uninvited an issue and honestly;

DONT ASSUME YOURE INVITED TO ANYTHING EVER.

If you assume you’re invited just because you know the party exists, thas bad. You’re invited when someone asks you to come, or when you get a formal, written invitation.

6; don’t seem to have their own hobbies or interests. Ahem. This is a bit of a pickle. Because sometimes this is a mirage. If you have the same interests and hobbies as your partner, it might seem like you only have them because they have them. I recommend finding a show, book series or whatever other hobby and just try it. Find a new hobby that does not need your partner involved. It might be scary, but it’ll be fine.

Se7en; holding back your real opinions.

To quote father something or other from suits; “the couples who don’t argue are the ones that need help”. A relationship shouldn’t be one person making decisions and giving opinions and the other person always agreeing. If you feel like you cant give your opinion, talk about it. Communication is key! This is a two way street, and you don’t always need to let the other person go first.

Eight is needing constant reassurance of love, and this is another for which I will be referring you to later in this post.

And nine is physically clingy. Now this one is hard to nail down, because everyone has a different size personal space. Some people might find a single gif too clingy while others want to hold hands all the time without stopping. The advice here, again? Talk about it. Use the mouth.

You thought I was done? I’m just getting started.

Because as I understand it, clingyness and overall emotional dependency comes from a lack of one single thing;

Confidence.

Now, a lack of confidence isn’t easy to overcome. Some may find it endearing, but it’s a genuine problem in a relationship. Just know that a combination of setting boundaries as early as possible, communicating properly and talking the other up when they need it (even a simple compliment might help if you are dealing with someone who seriously lacks confidence) will always result in a relationship that’s healthier than one where one person makes all the choices and the other clings to them for dear life.

If you still find yourself asking “am I being too clingy”, don’t hesitate to just… ask your partner. They’re usually literally right there. That’s what communication is for, baby. Use your mouth.

And remember; this is all coming from someone who has never dated anyone and is not interested in dating anyone. I’m literally saying this as advice from the sideline, like a soccer dad trying to advice you all how to play the game because what you’re doing is stupid.

Sincerely,

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foxtophat · 4 years ago

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MERRY CHRISTMAS IN JANUARY EVERYONE yeah i know ~nothing is fixed~ but whatever, fuck you, have some fanfic

so anyway i’ve been planning this for a while, i’m kinda shocked tho b/c i finished writing it in like less than 3 days??? (aside from editing) usually it takes me longer to at least figure out how to wrap things up, but at least this one was easy money. i’m sure none of the other ones will be so kind to me

this one takes place a month or so after the last one; it’s set in spring 2028 (omfg finally on a new year!!!!) and it has a little something to do with carmina finally getting some chickens!!!! one thing about new dawn that i think was really lacking is the explanation of how life... restarted before the highwaymen. i definitely remember a few houses having chicken coops, too, so i know i’m not crazy putting these feathered friends in. to me, chickens are the most sensible post-apocalyptic pet outside of a dog; easy to care for, provide food while alive AND after death, and they can reproduce easily enough if you’ve got a rooster on hand. i can imagine a family making quite a life for themselves as a poultry farm in the apocalypse!

ugh idk what else to say so i’ll just say it: thank you so much for all of your comments and kudos on this series. i am so stoked to know that my self-indulgent trash is delicious to more than just my possum ass! i’ve had a lot of fun worldbuilding in ubisoft’s playground, and i hope to continue doing more fun stuff that other people will enjoy too!!!

with all that said, i hope you enjoy the fic :) i’ll put it below the cut for you if you don’t wanna leave tumblr, but ao3 looks so much better. anyway, thank you and have a great jan 20th!!!!

Winter melts away the same way it does every year, leaving in its path wet dirt and green buds of spring growth. John, nursing what's likely the last cup of coffee they can wring from this batch of grounds, stares out over the back yard and idly marvels at how quickly the snow had disappeared. Montana had been his first experience with white winters; even though he's gotten used to the changing seasons in theory, though, he can't help but be distracted by it year after year.

Across the yard, situated just in sight by the hangar, John can plainly see Carmina's new chickens looking for breakfast. They're the newest addition to the homestead, but so far John has only had to watch from afar as the Ryes worked to adjust them to their new home. He's not sure who's raising chickens out here, but at least they were willing to barter. Fresh eggs are going to mean a lot more than the dwindling supplies out of Jacob's cache.

The misty-gray of early morning has almost evaporated in the rising sunlight, and still the chickens haven't been fed. John watches them from where he stands, their frustration leading to subdued crows as they scratch at the dirt. He doesn't know who's noisier — them, or Nick and Kim arguing at the table behind him. Thank Christ the wet end of winter is over; John doesn't think he can tolerate much more of their married nagging. On some level, he's glad they don't make a habit of yelling at him instead of each other, but Jesus, he can't wait for them to both get some space from one another.

"This is why we said we weren't gonna do pets, remember?" Nick says. "Because if she got a pet, we would end up taking care of it. Remember?"

"Yes, Nick, I remember."

"Yeah, and here we are!"

Kim sighs. John doesn't have to look to see the exasperated eye-roll that comes with it. "It wasn't me who kept her up late last night! Which one of us was egging her on when she should have been asleep?"

This is exactly why John has never owned a pet. They're more trouble than they're worth, and the only thing they seem to be good for is teaching shitty life lessons to kids who don't care enough to learn. The only good thing about the chickens is that they provide something in return other than obnoxious crowing.

Carmina thumps around upstairs. John isn't looking forward to having to listen to Kim lecture her on responsibility, but he's not thrilled to listen to much more of this bickering, either. If his choices are to stay inside and fester or go out into the first nice day of the year — well, that's not much of a choice, is it?

"Fine," John sighs before either of the Ryes can set their sights on him, "I'll do it."

"Nobody's asking you to do it," Kim replies. "It's Carmina's responsibility."

John shakes his head. "Of course it is. Where's the feed?"

Nick points out a white plastic container sitting on the pass-through to the kitchen. "Not gonna wait for us to boss you around?" he asks.

John picks up the container and rattles it to make sure it's full. "I'm streamlining the process," he replies. "Unless you enjoy giving me orders."

Sure enough, implying Nick might like being a bossy piece of shit is enough to get him to shut up. He sighs with a deep frown at John, who ignores him as he heads out to the coop. It's a petty satisfaction to take the rug out from under Nick's feet, but John's not above it. Not by a long shot.

Some of it might be compensating for the disintegrating peace that had come with winter. Before the blizzard set in, they'd had enough on their collective plates as they prepared for the worst of the season. Afterward, the snow had prevented them from doing much more than what was necessary to survive, and the resulting downtime had settled like a comfortable blanket. Even now, with a few weeks of grating interpersonal interactions, John feels more focused, more rested than he can ever remember feeling. Living underground for eight years, he'd naively thought that he'd gotten enough rest to last him a lifetime — but he'd been strung out on Bliss and trying not to suffocate, and he hadn't known what he was doing. He's starting to suspect that the Bliss might've had a worse effect on him than the myriad other drugs he'd ingested. Hell, he's not sure he's clean even now — but he's managing, and that's what matters.

It's only once he's halfway across the yard that John realizes Kim forgot to argue about him going off on his own. Sure, he's only going as far as the hangar, but it's become something of a pleasantry she uses whenever John pretends to have the freedom to go where he pleases. Her irritation at Carmina and Nick probably made her forget. She's gotten so used to trusting John that she's finally found other things to take up her attention.

Weirdly enough, the casual disregard for his potential backslide irritates him. It really shouldn't. He should be thrilled that he can finally disappear from view for an hour without somebody calling out a search party. He's more than earned it, he thinks, but their trust highlights their naivety. Luckily for them, John means it when he says he's changed — but it's a line they're going to hear time and again from people far less genuine than he's been. They're so willing to help everyone and anyone that they don't even realize how much of a target they're making themselves. John's had to hold his tongue whenever Nick gives free supplies to shifty-eyed tweakers who are "just passing through," and while he trusts Kim not to let anyone obviously suspicious into the house, he doesn't trust her to recognize a cunning liar.

The last thing John needs is for the Ryes to put their trust in the wrong reformed psychopath. At least he's capable of picking up their slack. After all, John has his time at law school and years of psychological abuse under his belt — plenty of real-world experience dealing with unrepentant garbage. He'll notice it when somebody cases the hangar or acts too erratically, and hopefully the Ryes will listen to him if he gets the nerve to voice his concerns.

Not for the first time since summer, John is struck with a newfound respect for Jacob and the role he'd inhabited in the Project. It used to be his job to look out for insurrectionists, and he'd taken on that burden even when John and Joseph would openly dismiss his concerns. John can't imagine how many fires Jacob must've put out while the rest of the family was distracted by the Bliss. Looking back on it now, it's honestly a surprise they maintained their operation as long as they did, considering only one of the four of them was ever sober.

The chickens are hopping at his arrival, scuttling around the dirt and crowing as John reaches the pen. They don't notice him so much as the bin he rattles on approach, full of vegetable cuttings and strange white worms that come out whenever it rains. John doesn't mind one lick — he's never been much of an animal person, and he certainly doesn't care if Carmina's so-called pets notice his existence. Of course, knowing Carmina, she's going to use this as an excuse to shift breakfast duty to John full-time, and John won't have much of a say in the matter.

Well, that's not strictly true, but if Carmina asked, he knows he would do it, if only to give his day more structure. Truthfully, he's grown to depend on routine, when before it was impossible to keep to a schedule that didn't involve other people's expectations of him. There's probably a metaphor to be made about trains on and off the tracks, but John has never been particularly interested in locomotives.

John shakes the dead bugs and scraps out into the pen, watching the hens as they race to be the first to eat. They're perfectly happy now that they've been fed, cooing and clucking as they peck the dirt. They certainly seem content with safety and food — not entirely unlike the survivors living day-to-day in the town and beyond. Sure, John might not always be satisfied by bare sustenance, and one day he'll chafe under the grind of surviving week to week, but for now, he might as well be a dumb chicken crowing in the morning sun.

He throws some more feed into the pen, watching the three hens waddle after their meal. One of them lingers by the fence, freezing for a moment as her head swivels back and forth. She pecks at the dirt away from the feed before hustling after her two companions. John watches as she stops again; when he tosses a few worms in her direction, she pecks briefly at them before lifting her head to survey her surroundings.

The primal sensation of something being wrong nearly overtakes John's reasoning, before he manages to remind himself that a chicken's predators aren't exactly his to worry about. Still, he rattles the container to bring the hens scuttling towards him; all three are easily distracted by food now, but John can't shake the feeling that he'd missed something they hadn't. A fox, maybe? A snake? Anything could be lurking in the woods on the other side of the wash. Not a whole lot that could hurt him , of course, but he's not about to be blamed for Carmina's chickens being eaten by a wild dog.

The fence-line is... nebulous past the hangar, sure, but John's positive Kim doesn't consider the rest of the old airport off-limits. Then again, she might be in the mood to lecture him once she gets through with Carmina. It's a risk he's not sure he's willing to take.

Two chickens continue to eat as one keeps watch, their heads bobbing up and down as they switch off. Their unease mirrors his own, and John can imagine Faith giggling at him for being swayed by some dumb birds.

"Very well, ladies," he sighs, shaking the remainder of their breakfast onto the ground. "Don't let them say I don't care."

The chickens don't give three shits about John's motivations, of course; they watch him go, pecking at the food with increasing carelessness as the distance grows. John rolls his eyes at their sudden fearlessness, half-convinced to let whatever animal is lurking eat them out of spite.

There's a wide swath of dirt behind the hangar, separating it from the mostly-overgrown remnants of Rye Aviation that couldn't be saved. John can see the edge of the chicken pen from here, but the hangar is blocking him from the house. Even though he knows the Ryes trust him not to run off, he still feels distinctly uneasy going somewhere where they can't see him. At this point, Nick would probably only tease him for it, but John's not about to linger out here and risk turning Kim's irritation on himself.

To the right of the derelict hangars is a sparse wedge of trees that have grown in uninterrupted. John knows there's a path cut between the trunks, one he'd made himself while hauling the tire-planters for Kim last year, and there's a long stretch of unused runway beyond it. It isn't a great place for anything bigger than a fox to lurk in. That doesn't explain the feeling of being watched that comes over him as he stops halfway across the empty dirt lot; he looks around, but there's no place for anything to hide out here. The overgrowth on the old hangars can't be more than two feet high, and the bushes in the copse are brambly and sparse. The only place anything could hide would be in the trees, which is why John approaches them with more caution than they're worth.

The thinned underbrush is easy to explore, but John goes carefully as he picks through the trees and bushes. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for — some sign of predators, whatever those might be — but he doesn't find much. There are some hoof-prints clear in the dirt, curving sharply away from the Rye homestead and back out to the airstrip, which tells John that the goddamn deer are back, probably looking to eat their hard-grown crops. Other than that, there's no sign of anything that might be stalking the hen-house. The ground is still somewhat soft from the rain a few nights ago, but it barely takes the imprint of John's boots as he explores the small grove.

That's why it's such a shock to see the tread of a narrow boot in the dirt by the trunk of one of the trees, well off the beaten path. It's an old print, he thinks — but he doesn't remember the last time any one of them had been out this way. Certainly not since the last time it rained.

An electric shock conducts itself down his spine. Somebody had been out here, hiding here in the trees, and it's only been two, three days since the last rain. John turns, and from his vantage point, he can clearly see the coop and the back of the hangar, but not the house. For that, he'd have to move out of the trees, into direct view of the porch.

It has to be Grace's boot. She's the only one he could imagine creeping around the property with good intentions. But even that explanation doesn't settle the anxious flip of his stomach; he tries not to let it show as he marches from the trees, intent on dragging Nick over and proving to him once and for all that they need to be more goddamn careful about who they let around the property. Somebody is going to want the copper fixtures they've salvaged, even if there's nobody to sell the metal to these days.

John gets halfway back to the coop when he catches something in his peripheral vision. Terrible, primal terror grips him as he fixes his gaze on the trick of the light that had scared him, ready to catch Grace peering at him over the abandoned hangars, or maybe a pack of wild dogs. What he sees instead turns his blood to ice, caught like a deer in headlights as the low-hanging shrubbery and thick vines shift and part for a rising mass of dark brown fur. The shape that rises from the underbrush is a tall, dark smudge against the blue sky, and John nearly swallows his tongue when he sees its face — or the horrifying absence of one, replaced with white, flaking skin and two huge, empty eye-sockets that are fixed on John's position.

It doesn't move. Neither does John, frozen to the spot as the chickens begin to crow and fuss. He can't fathom what he's looking at — a bear, a person, a fucking mutant? — but whatever it is, he suspects it's infected with Bliss. Who knows how many angels ended up underground after the Collapse? What might've happened to them in the years since? All John knows about them is that they're dangerous to everybody but Faith, and Faith died a decade ago. If this is an angel — God, there'll be no stopping it. And if it isn't — then what the hell is it ?

There's no way for John to get from here to the house without the thing chasing him. The hangar is blocking his brutal oncoming murder from the two people who might actually be able to do something about it. He doesn't have to look to know the distance from here to the house is insurmountable.

The creature lifts its arm, and the situation that couldn't get any worse takes an even more horrifying turn as it reveals its weapon of choice: a crudely fashioned bow, the same kind of handmade weaponry that Joseph's followers have been seen with.

All at once, Nick's voice is ringing in John's ears, warning him of what's going to happen if this gargoyle takes him away. The things John hadn't considered before — the Ryes' reputation, Carmina's safety, the hard-won trust John's gained from the survivors — it's all in jeopardy. The situation barrels into him all at once — the realization that whatever Joseph did to create this thing , he won't hesitate to turn on John.

He tries to shout a warning, but his breath is caught in his throat. Faith's voice, faint on the breeze, laughs and whispers sing-song into his ear:

They've found you!

The monster barrels down the slope of the hill as if prodded into action by a hot poker. Its gait is wide, bringing it towards John at speeds impossible to outrun. This time, John's shout comes out clear as a bell, panic screaming through him as he turns and bolts for the house. He nearly clips himself on the pen as he hangs a sharp right turn, the porch coming into full sight —

Something snags the back of John's shirt, and his momentum briefly chokes him. A thick arm bears down across his neck before he can rip free, the creature grunting in exertion as it yanks him backward. John feels his boots scrape on the dirt as he's dragged towards the trees, away from the safety that's plain in sight.

Animal instinct kicks in. John gnashes his teeth but there's nothing to bite, so he kicks out his feet instead, first in front of him and then harshly backward until he can hook his shin behind his assailant's and trip them both to the ground. The creature goes down with a surprised grunt; John does his best to roll away, only to be yanked back by his hair. He's distantly aware that he's spitting like a cat in a sack, clawing and biting, the two of them rolling in the dirt as John screams profanities and heresy at the monster trying to pin him down, anything to convince the universe to take mercy on him for once in his fucking life!

The creature manages to grab him by the shoulder, throwing him into the dirt before backhanding him violently across the face. It's enough to daze him; for one horrible second, he's unable to do anything as the monster begins to drag him across the dirt by the legs.

There's a commotion coming from the house. For a split second, the creature looks up, and John realizes his opening at the same time the monster realizes its mistake. It looks down just in time for John to kick it square in its barky, hollow-eyed face, sending a split down the wooden facade.

" John !"

The monster reels backward as if burned, grabbing at the mask as it falls away. John catches sight of a single dark, wild eye behind the broken wood before he kicks out again, sending both boots into his assailant's chest. As soon as the creature staggers back, John bolts, scrambling towards Kim as she races toward him with the rifle drawn. Nick is hot behind her; he grabs John's shoulder and drags him partway back to the house. John doesn't need the escort, and so Nick quickly leaves him to scramble up the porch as he goes after his wife.

John gets all the way to the stairs inside before he realizes there's no safe place to hide. He'd found out this winter just how flimsy the prisoner story had been; if somebody wants to take him, all they have to do is climb onto the roof and jimmy the lock on the nearest window. Whether it's through the broken window in his room or a gap in the roof leading to the attic, the Project will find him. He can't possibly outrun them forever. He'd be stupid to even try. God, he'd been a fool for thinking Joseph wouldn't send someone looking for him, that he wouldn't want to snatch John back from the clutches of apostasy. There's no way Joseph will leave a loose end like him untied.

John sinks to the bottom steps in his mounting despair, only to realize for a second time that he's being watched. The realization is less of a shock as Carmina peers at him around the kitchen archway; she jumps at the distant rapport of gunfire, staring owl-eyed at John as though she expects him to do something.

"Stay down," John hisses, setting an example as he keeps low on his way into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Carmina asks, frantic, "Is mom gonna be okay?"

"Yes," John replies, although he can't possibly know that for sure. He waits a beat, listening for more gunshots, then carefully lifts his head to check out the window when none come. He lets out the breath he'd been holding when he sees Nick standing with his hands on his hips, staring at Kim further down the yard. Whatever the danger had been, it's not pressing enough to warrant immediate action.

"Seriously," Carmina whines, as if that could hide her fear. "What was it? Was it a bear? Grace says there are bears in the woods but I've never seen —"

John sinks to the ground, his mind reeling even as the panic passes, leaving him numb. "It wasn't a bear."

Carmina chews on her lower lip, looking up towards the window as though she might try looking for herself. "Are the chickens okay?" she asks.

"They're fine," he sighs. He pushes his hair from his face, only to realize that his hands have started to tremble with run-off adrenaline.

"Are... you okay?" she asks, frowning as though she can't decide whether or not his wellbeing is her problem to deal with.

Goodwill must be genetic, John laments. "I'm fine," he tells her. She gives his shaking hands a hard look; he sighs and reiterates, "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I'm not," Carmina huffs. Apparently, Nick's attempts to teach Carmina how to bluff haven't worked out.

John is saved from needing to reassure her as Nick abruptly appears in the kitchen arch, out of breath and red-faced. His shock gives way to relief at the sight of the two of them huddled by the counter. He's out of breath and visibly bewildered.

"Shit, John, you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, although he doubts Nick will believe it any more than Carmina had. His foot jogs uselessly against the floor. "Kim — did she...?"

Nick shakes his head. "She tried," he says, "But it was too fast. What the fuck was it ?"

"Somebody from the Project."

"No shit. But — look, it wasn't an angel , was it?"

John shakes his head. "I don't know."

Kim storms into view, making her way to the pass-through from the living room side. She sets the rifle down on the counter, catching John's eye with a glare. John hurries to explain himself, as if he could possibly apologize for bringing the cult back to her doorstep.

"I was checking for foxes," he tells her, "I didn't think it — if I'd known what it was, I wouldn't have gone on my own."

Despite the fury in her eyes and the hard edge to her voice, Kim seems to mean it when she replies, "As long as nobody's hurt."

But the damage is done, and John can't help but babble on uselessly. "I wasn't looking in the right place. But I shouted as soon as I saw it. I just — couldn't outrun it. I wasn't fast enough. And I wasn't — it was stronger than I expected, stronger than..." Even he can hear the panic edging into his voice, cutting himself off with one last worried question. "Do you think it's gone?"

"It better be, if it knows what's good for it," Kim replies. "Are you sure you're okay?"

At any other time, John would be irritated to have to reassure every single Rye individually that he isn't in the throes of a panic attack. Right now, he's only grateful to realize that Kim doesn't blame him for the thing's appearance.

"I am," he says. "Thank you."

Nick groans, covering his eyes with one hand as he leans against the counter. "So much for it being safe to go out alone. Damn it, we got too comfortable."

" I got too comfortable," John says. "It wouldn't have cared about either of you."

"What about the chickens?" Carmina asks, "Are they safe there?"

Kim crosses her arms. "What I want to know is what the hell the Project is doing out here."

Her question is the only one John has any insight into, although he doesn't know how realistic his theory is. "They might be hunting deer," he says. "The only thing I saw, other than — than that , were deer tracks."

"All the way out here?" Kim asks skeptically.

"The hunting can't be any good in that swamp they're hiding in," Nick points out, frowning as he considers the idea. "And there are more survivors around the river these days. I'd bet that'd make for slim pickings."

"I doubt we'd even know they come out this far if I hadn't been the one out there. At least we've confirmed they're actively searching for resources beyond their compound — and they're relying on traditional methods to do so. Most likely because the armory was destroyed."

"Thank God for the Deputy," Nick sighs. "Okay. We're just gonna have to... I dunno, be willing to shoot, I guess." He doesn't sound so sure about it, and he quickly softens the intention. "At least a couple more warning shots. Once they remember guns outstrip arrows every way but sustainability, they'll probably keep back."

"We can push the fence-line out, too," Kim says. "It won't necessarily stop them, but at least it'll give them a line to cross. They're not cavemen — they remember property laws and how those get enforced around here."

"We'll have to start checking the traps more often. They might be living like bloodthirsty Mennonites right now, but that doesn't mean they aren't willing to steal to survive."

"They'll justify it one way or another," John sighs.

"So I guess we don't have to move the chickens after all," Nick says, "So long as we establish a perimeter. Sound good, Carmina?"

Carmina must have slipped out at some point during the conversation because she's nowhere to be found in the kitchen. Nick glances over John's head and out the window, swearing loudly.

"What the hell is she doing out there?"

John gets to his feet as Nick and Kim take off. He watches them through the window as they chase after Carmina, who's stopped to look around partway towards the coop. Either she's dumber than she seems, or she's inherited both of her parents' reckless streaks. Either way, she's going to leave herself open the same way John had. She's too confident that nobody wants to hurt her. The only way John knows how to teach that lesson, though, is not one that Kim or Nick would approve of — and so he sidelines his worries in favor of sticking with whoever is more armed than he is.

By the time John comes outside, Kim is knee-deep in the middle of a heated lecture about safety and responsibility. Carmina scowls at her feet, her face turning red as she's scolded. John ignores them, passing them by in favor of catching up with Nick, who's come to a stop a few yards past the coop. He's staring out into the unoccupied land — land that used to be his property, once. Now Nick is as much a stranger here as John is.

"Check it out," Nick says, holding out a thin, white-barked piece of wood. John takes it and recognizes it immediately as part of the mask he'd broken in two. The hole for the eye is a roughly cut gouge in the soft wood, and the bark flakes as he wipes his thumb across it.

"I hadn't even considered a mask," John admits. "I thought it was a monster."

"You and me both," Nick replies. He heaves a sigh. "Still waiting for the mutants to crawl out of the sewers, I guess. But I think we can handle a couple of jackasses with arrows."

John squints across the clearing, as if maybe his assailant has hung around waiting for them to reappear. "Next time, it might be Joseph," he points out grimly. "That hunter recognized me immediately. They'll tell him I'm here, and he'll want to find me."

"Come on. Like Joseph's gonna risk crossing enemy territory on foot. I'd be more worried about those goddamn hunting parties you used to send out."

John unconsciously reaches up to rub his throat. "Yeah," he says. "You're right. One of them clearly wasn't enough, but if Joseph decides I'm worthwhile, they'll come as a pack. If he's still manufacturing Bliss somehow, it would be easy to subdue me. And then..."

He's surprised out of his would-be reverie as Nick slaps his shoulder with a heavy hand. "We're not gonna let that happen," he says. "As long as you put up the same fight you did today, Kim and I are gonna come running."

Despite the reality of hidden archers and surprise ambushes, John allows himself to be reassured by the sentiment. At the very least, he pretends for Nick's sake. "I suppose you two were quick to the rescue," he drawls. "But if they get me to the tree-line, I'd rather you just put me down before I get dragged all the way back to the compound."

Nick chuckles. "We'll try to avoid that for now."

Looking over his shoulder, John catches Kim crouched down in front of Carmina, hands on her shoulders. Whatever she's saying, it's too quiet for John to hear, but Carmina's sniffles are a loud precursor to a lot of tears.

"I guess she believed you when you said the Project wouldn't care about us," Nick sighs. "At this rate, we're gonna have to put a bell on her."

"I could tell her about the child soldiers from the summer camp, if that would prove the gravity of the situation."

Just the mention of it makes Nick look a little queasy, and John immediately regrets bringing it up. "I don't want to scare her that badly," Nick says. "She's a good kid, she means well. She just needs to stop going off half-cocked, is all." He rubs his hand across his forehead and complains, "I thought we taught her to be smarter than this."

"She's still your kid," John says. Nick gives him a sour look, but it's the truth no matter how bitter Nick might feel about it. "You can't expect her to be utterly obedient, given her genetics."

"I guess ." He sighs, shaking his head. "At any rate, it's time we stop sugar-coating the cult for her benefit. She's obviously not taking it seriously."

John looks again and sees Kim embracing Carmina tightly. He can't help but worry about what might happen if the hunters come back. When he'd been with the Project, he'd understood Joseph's motivations — at least superficially — but now he's completely in the dark. They used to fill their ranks with abducted children and their desperate parents. He has no idea if Joseph is in a position to expand his flock, but if he is... John does not doubt that they'll start with the young and impressionable. Carmina, being young but not as impressionable as they'd like, probably wouldn't make it back to the compound before she got herself killed. He can't imagine anyone having enough patience to break her.

"You... uh, think we should be worried?" Nick asks after a brief stretch of silence.

"Not yet," John replies grimly. After all, the Ryes have a bargaining chip like no other, in case their daughter is ever taken. John can see to it that she's left alone, but it will only work once — and after that, who knows which brother will be sending hunters after her.

"Good thing we got ourselves a couple of extra guns," Nick says. "You and her are gonna have to start carrying pretty much everywhere."

"I'm sure people will love that."

"Fuck people, man, did you see the size of that fucking guy?"

John can't help a wry smile. "They weren't so big. If I were a couple of years younger, I would have taken them."

"Yeah, sure. "

The lecture must be over with for now, as Carmina's attention has turned back to her chickens. Kim watches her from a distance; John can't read her expression from here, but her posture is tense and defensive. John can't blame her — he doesn't have a parental bone in his body, but the stress of raising a child in these conditions isn't lost on him. Trying to instill a sense of fear into somebody who lived their formative years without a threat in sight can't be easy. Doubly so, considering Carmina can no doubt outgun the rudimentary weaponry the Project is utilizing. Hell, maybe they really are only a threat to him. Maybe it doesn't matter if Carmina sneaks out of the house.

"She won't leave unnoticed again," John decides, because it's the only promise he can genuinely keep.

"Oh yeah? You're gonna eat those words when she's a teenager."

"I'd hope she would be smart enough to bring back up by then."

"Me too." Nick exhales loudly enough to get Kim's attention, stretching one arm over his chest, then the other. "Well, I guess we better get started if we want to have anything to show for it by nightfall."

Even so, it takes Nick another moment before he brings himself to move. John lingers behind, unable to help himself as he eyes the trees distrustfully. There's nothing saying that hunter isn't still out there, watching them from a safe distance. If Jacob had a hand in training them, it's unlikely that John will ever see them coming again. He's likely lost the one chance at a level playing field, and he hadn't even realized it was something he could lose.

Fuck it. It doesn't matter. John has adapted time and again to every disaster in his life, and there's something to be said for the person who he's become. If this is the next catastrophe that he'll have to weather, then so be it. If he isn't capable of dealing with Joseph by now, then it's likely he never will be — and if that turns out to be the case, he can only hope that Kim is as quick on the trigger as she seemed to be today.

#far cry new dawn #fcnd #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #carmina rye #far cry fanfic #my fic #ugh tagging sucks on this site #mercyverse

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alinaastarkov · 5 years ago

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Honestly, like ... it's funny cause I actually liked Sophie before Season 8 aired, because I wasn't paying that much attention to her and her behavior outside the show, you know? Other than Emilia and Kit's interviews I wasn't really following the any of the actors outside of the show. But after the finale aired and everything exploded and fell to pieces, it was like a magnifying glass was put on all of them for me. And then I saw the shit Sophie had been saying for YEARS. (1/?)

Like how it wouldn't be fair if Daenerys got the iron throne because she had dragons, that Daenerys couldn't have EvErYtHiNg - as if she was personally affronted that Daenerys was so popular. And it was the same with Arya! She was constantly saying Sansa was the best character (and like, ok, a lot of actors probably say that about their characters, fine), but also going on about how 'smart' Sansa was and complaining that she wasn't as popular as other female characters (2/?) because she didn't 'act like a man'.

Thank you so much for this long ask! To keep things organised, I am roughly going to answer this in sections.

I agree with you. I did not pay much attention to any of the cast really, and I’m still not hugely bothered about them. GOT is done and I rarely get invested in cast members. It’s characters I’m interested in. But I remember randomly coming across bts footage of the Jon/Arya hug from season 1, and I just fell in love with those two actors in particular, and I happened to see an interview with Emilia and adored her too. And that’s when I happened to see more of this cast and understand what they were like. But with the final season, and seeing pretty much everyone’s reactions that ranged from forced awkward laughter to straight up saying it sucked, it became incredibly obvious when any single person reacted positively. Even former cast members were saying it sucked, and celebrities not even involved were dragging it, so Sophie’s words on this topic (which I will touch on in a second) were put under a microscope, and subsequently everything she had said before was too. Her hatred for Dany was definitely fed to her by D&D, but there was definitely a jealousy about how other characters and actors were more popular than her. But her comments about female characters in general were so toxic.

I was even annoyed for a hot minute with Maisie too, because of all the shit she and Sophie said about Daenerys while promoting S8 (calling her power-hungry and saying she was worse than Cersei). BUT THEN. I noticed exactly what you said in an earlier post about Maisie going along with WHATEVER Sophie said. And when I re-watched those interviews it was always SOPHIE saying those shitty things, and Maisie just agreeing. (3/?) I even saw the interview you mentioned where Maisie kept changing her answers to match Sophie's. They're friendship comes off as really uneven and toxic, tbh, cause it felt like Sophie was CONSTANTLY running roughshod over Maisie.

Yeah, Maisie’s attitude initially seems off as well, especially with regard to Daenerys. But as you said, she never says this sort of thing in solo interviews, or interviews with other actors. It’s such a shame that there are so few without Sophie, so we rarely get to see what she’s like on her own. It would be one thing I suppose if Maisie gave similar answers to Sophie without much prompting, but she always has one answer, then Sophie speaks, and she changes it based on what she says. That really clearly shows you she is amending her behaviour to fit in with Sophie, which is not good. It does feel so uneven and I’ve had friendships like that and it took a while for me to cut them out. Once I did I felt much better. We obviously don’t know the ins and outs of their relationship, but it does feel very similar.

Sophie's also made uncomfortable comments dealing with racism in the past, she claims to be an advocate for mental health but then behaves abominably towards her castmates (4/?) (making insensitive comments about Kit's drinking during an interview, saying shit about Daenerys when she knows how much that could affect Emilia, etc.), the way she said she "loved" Sansa's rape scene because of how twisted it was, all that in addition to how she defended the show's final season (with it's STRONG xenophobic, isolationist undertones) even though she didn't even watch the last 2-3 episodes (5/?) - how she seemed so smug and happy about the (tone-deaf) ending, even seemed to be celebrating it when it was brought up in interviews (talk about not being able to read the room - seriously, everybody else seemed to realize it, and kept their mouths shut after the required promo period) - her history of sicking her fans on people who disliked Sansa/said anything negative about her on social media even when they didn't @ her (6/?)

Her comments about race and mental health always made me uncomfortable too. I was sympathetic to her struggle with mental health, but then she invalidates everyone else’s struggles and it just made me dislike her even more. You can’t be an advocate for mental health and then say stuff like that about other people. Those two things do not go together. You could see when she said that stuff about Kit’s drinking that, though the audience laughed, everyone in the cast including Kit gave awkward smiles and giggles to cover how uncomfortable they were because they didn’t want to make a scene. And the way she talks about other characters is disrespectful. These characters mean a lot to the people who play them, and she does not react well when people give the same back to her. It reminds of John Boyega and his comments about Reylo and Ben Solo especially, knowing how much his castmates, Adam and Daisy in particular, love the character and how much he means to them, and he went ahead and said those things anyway, fuelling his fans to be cruel to other fans. It’s not as bad as Sophie perhaps, but it’s just poor form when these people are supposed to be professional. Sophie’s comments about Sansa’s rape scene came straight from D&D’s mouth, but she has to be at least a little self-aware about how that sounds and how gross it is, especially when she loves it because of how gross it was. You don’t see Emilia defending Drogo, do you?

Her reaction to the ending was so telling because it was the single positive opinion in a sea of negativity. Everyone else, including people no longer in the show and celebrities who were never involved, hated it and called it out to varying degrees (there was still contracts to fulfill) for how tone-deaf and nonsensical it was, and there was the table-read were everyone was devastated, but Sophie was grinning the entire time. She liked the show because her character won in the end. Sophie is not a writer, and it’s obvious when she praises the writing of this show (and criticises others which had far fewer problems than this). She did not care how nonsensical and crass the rest of the show was, as long as her character ended up on top, and then went out of her way to criticise people who hated it. Other actors have done the same, but on top of everything else it’s not a good look. And don’t even get me started on her behaviour on social media. It’s gross and not something we can blame on someone else.

after all that, everything about her just reeks of this 'woe-is-me I'm so oppressed white feminist' bs. It makes it impossible for me to like her now. Like, I think I'm only 1-2 years older than her, I don't come from nearly as much privilege as she does, and she has all the resources in the world to be educating herself and improving herself but...I don't see anything resembling that kind of growth in her. (7/7)

Yeah I can only agree. I’m five years younger than her and you would never catch me acting the way she does. She’s 24, she’s an adult, and obviously early fame and the producers affected her, but at some point we can’t keep absolving her of blame. She could be educating herself and alleviating her own ignorance, but it seems like she’s just doubling down. Maisie has had the same troubling influence from an earlier age, and she is younger, but she is not acting this way. I’m not hugely into following actors’ lives as I said, but when this was brought to my attention it rubbed me the wrong way. I am perfectly fine to ignore her as best I can, but I don’t have to like her. You don’t have to like celebrities if they’re not great people, and I don’t like her. And I’m glad the show is over so her castmates can go on to bigger and better things and leave that toxic environment the show created behind.

#anti got #anti d&d #neve has mail #anti sophie turner

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lennydaisy · 4 years ago

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EPIPHANY SERIES // OUTER BANKS // CHAPTER THREE.

(n.) a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand. or suddenly become conscious of something that is very important to you.

“Care to seize the day, my friend?”

Outer Banks Season 1- FEM OC! and ?

Here’s the link to Chapter Two in case you haven’t read it already <3 Check it out!!

Babysitting isn't for everybody. And at the beginning, I didn't think I was for me either. They say every child is different and this job has proved that couldn't be more true. Call it delusion, but I thought babysitting would be the easiest job on the planet. Getting paid to look after someone's kid for a few hours whilst they run for the hills for a sliver of free time. Sounds easy enough right?

Wrong!

You need to have thick skin when it comes to babysitting. No matter how much the parents reassure and praise their kid for being a literal angel on earth. That said angel will call you a do-do head at least once whilst simultaneously having a tantrum because you told them no, despite how much they promised that their parents allow them to climb onto of the refrigerator.

The first time I babysat it was actually a baby I was watching. The mom wanted to get out of the house and away from the responsibility of her 6-month-old. She had graciously written up any and every scenario that could play out in the few hours she was gone. And I was feeling confident. Until I wasn't.

They wouldn't stop crying. And their special lamb, that the board told me to give to the baby when they were upset, ran out of batteries, and I couldn't find new ones anywhere.

They refused to eat, just spitting the pureed food back in my face. They also wouldn't keep their socks on and that was the last straw for my sanity. I understood now why the mom had been quick to run out the door.

I ended up calling Kie, begging for her to come and help. I don't know how she understood a word I said, I was practically hyperventilating over the line, staring at the baby who was crawling around in a fit of rage.

Kie was truly a godsend. She somehow fed the baby and managed to get them to sleep before the mom came back. It did result in me splitting my first wage with Kie, but I wasn't complaining, I was just happy that I made it out of that house with just a headache and not an external crisis. Though that did come later.

I've babysat an 8-year-old boy, who ran away from me in the park. I did find him eventually. After giving myself a hairline fracture in my right wrist from climbing the tree he got stuck in.

I've babysat animals before. That wasn't part of my non-existing contract, but the way they spoke about their pets was very humanlike. It didn't end well for me, it never does. It resulted in me holding four leashes of four overly excited Komodo Dragons. Just kidding. The refused to move and lacked any type of emotion.

'I took you guys to the beach, be grateful.'

Now, I know what you're thinking, Komodo Dragons? Aren't those Illegal to have as pets? The answer to that question is yes! But I didn't know that. Just imagine Shoupe's face when he saw me practically dragging not one, but four, exotic animals across the boneyard. It looked suspicious is all I'm going to say.

Turns out the two guys who asked me to babysit their dragons for them we're smugglers who purchased and sold exotic animals. Not good. Apparently, they were already under the police departments radar and the pair planned on legging it to the in-country hoping to change and clear their names.

That worked out well for them, I think? Nothing else was really mentioned of it after my dad collected me from the police station. They're still on the radar, I hope. If not then there are two brawny men out there that could come and kill me in my sleep for ruining their very illegal business. Look, If you are up to some suspect things, my dumbass is the last person you'd want to be involved. I will unironically get you caught.

That's how Ward Cameron had heard about my very pristine babysitting service. Noticing the little bit of trouble that always seemed to shadow me, he offered to hire me permanently as his youngest daughter's babysitter.

That was three years ago, and here I am still babysitting Wheezie.

"This is stupid," Wheezie complains, trudging behind me, pushing forward the shopping cart filled with lost items that we found on the beach.

Since there is no internet in Kookland, in other words, Wheezie's heart line is currently in critical care. I decided to venture outdoors with her for a change. Instead of just sitting around her three-storey clubhouse or in her four-acre backyard, I thought it would be nice to comb the beach of any debris that the hurricane brought along.

There was a lot of personal items that washed up on the beach too. Wallets, bags, photographs, books, clothes, wine bottles, footballs, toys, you get the gist. Most of them were ruined, either waterlogged or just completely useless. However, somethings just needed a good clean, and that's what we are going to spend our day doing. There is no way of telling what belongs to who, so we'll just turn them into the lost and found and hope they'll check there if it was important enough to them.

Our two trollies worth didn't even make a dent in the rubble that litters the beach, but it was a start. Say hello to a summer of hard labour.

"There was a hurricane Wheezie, have some sympathy" I roll my eyes at the girl who was less than thrilled about today's plans.

"I do have sympathy," she claims defensively, "It's just pointless. No one's gonna come looking for this junk," eyes flickering through the findings in her trolley.

What we found isn't pointless. They belong to someone. I think about it the same way I did as a kid when I wanted every single teddy bear in my bed at night so none got left out, so I didn't hurt their feelings. A ragged old soccer ball might look worse for wear, but it has a home and I going to get it back there.

"It's not junk," I object, stopping momentarily, waiting for the stroppy pre-teen to catch up. "Say you lost your phone and someone found it, and returned it too you. You wouldn't be grateful?" I theorize in terms that I know she would understand.

"My dad would just get me a new one," she shrugs nonchalantly, not missing a beat.

"Well, not everyone's fortunate that way," I remind her, blinking suddenly as the sun shines on something reflective in the cart, blinding me.

Reaching towards the sparkling object, I realise that it appears to be quite expensive. It's a glass ashtray. Rubbing the damp sand off the surface, my thumb feels an engraving. In swirly calligraphy, reads the initials:

'S.G'

"I'm sorry," Wheezie apologizes, wincing when she heard my comment, "I didn't think-"

"-It's okay," I smile at the girl. It's not like I don't understand my current life situation. It's pretty shitty, I know, but I live with it. I was born a Pogue for a reason. I wasn't supposed to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth, though that doesn't mean I hate those who are. They have it easier than me and my family, sure, but that's just how it is in the Outer Banks. Some are more fortunate than others. It does, however, leave a sour taste in my mouth that Kook parents will just throw money at there children to get them to shut up, but that's just a Pogue's opinion.

The generators haven't kicked in yet, seeing as though the Camerons security code gate is bouncing loosely against its unlocked hinges. Holding the gate open for Wheezie to push by with her cart, I catch a glimpse of their usually perfectly mowed lawn. Instead, I see plenty of fallen trees and scattered branches, broken plant pots, and ruined garden monuments. It’s not a good look, especially for the high-class Camerons.

That just goes to show, hurricane's don't show mercy on anyone, Kook or not.

As a wise man once said; 'Thanks Agatha, ya batch.'

Parking our carts beside the Cameron's private pool, away from the workers who are just trying to do their jobs. I turn to Wheezie saying, "You go get some soapy water and gloves and I'll empty the carts."

Nodding her head, she rushes into her house, leaving me slightly confused, 'Where did the sudden enthusiasm come from?'

Emptying the carts, I lay out what needs to be cleaned the most: from a bronze candlestick holder to a old, yet unique, shoe buckle, and everything in between. And of course, the ashtray.

Holding it gently in my palms, legs crossed against the cold slabs, I couldn't help but feel hypnotised by the intricate marks that littered the tray. It truly was a lost treasure.

"I'll take that," announces a voice from behind my hunched figure, jumping when a hand snatches the tray from my grip.

Coming to my feet, I'm ready to snatch the tray back from the sudden thief, but I stop when I realise who it is. Why am I not surprised, I am on their turf.

If it isn't dumb, dumber and dumbest.

Throwing the delicate glass from hand to hand, Rafe lets out a low whistle, "Check the weight on that," he tosses it to Kelce who was standing tall behind him. Kelce nods his head in approval, of course agreeing with what Rafe has to say.

"Who did you steal that from Pogue?" Rafe smirks thinking he has me sussed out. Not wanting to give the satisfaction that him lobbing around the ashtray is causing me heart amputations, I stare him in the eye, "I didn't steal it. I found it."

"You did, did you," he utters pushing past me, his head low with a sick smile, taking in the view of the tressures that I had laid out, "And what about all this? Did you just find that too?"

I say nothing. He knows the answer to that question. I already told him. I don't need to explain myself, especially not to Rafe Cameron.

His eyes flicker over Wheezie and I's findings, taking in each and everyone with a curious eye, before he cracked, "Bunch of junk," kicking some of the items into the pool.

All I could do was stare. Stare as someone's possessions sunk to the bottom of the marble pool, clashing and crumbling at the foot of Rafe. I fell sick.

His friend just laughs, egging him on. Kelce patting him proudly on the back, handing him back the ashtray. Rafe turns to face me, that smirk never leaving his face, but I can't look at him. I refuse to.

"-Hey Rafe, dad's looking for you," a soft voice breaks the harsh glare that Rafe was sending my way. Nodding his head at the voice, he holds the ashtray out for me to take.

It was too good to be true.

Gullible enough, I reach out for it, only to have it slip through my fingertips. Unable to hear the shattering of the glass as it hits the red slab, my brain refuses to accept fate as I stare down at the shards.

Laughing lightly, I bite my lip, nodding my head understandingly, not expecting anything less from Rafe. A sharp grip on my wrist snaps up my damp eyes, "See you later, Pogue," he hisses in my numb ear, before marching away as though nothing happened.

Sensing a presence, I meet eyes with the 3rd and final member of Rafe's crowd.

Topper.

Smiling lopsidedly at the well put together boy who hasn't moved or spoken since showing up, "Nice friends you've got there Topper," I say monotoned, watching as the boy snaps out of his trance-like state before following Rafe with a blank expression and his tail between his legs.

Shuddering out a breath, I unclip my waist bag and begin to pick up the chunks of glass. Pausing when a pair of clean, white shoes entre my line of sight, "Careful," she crounches down, picking up a shard, placing it into my bag.

A few minutes of picking up the sizable pieces, all that was left on the slabs was a glittering shimmer. Satisfied with what was salvaged, we stand back up to our full height. It was silent. Awkwardly silent.

"Thank you," I shyly say, not at all pleased that the Cameron girl had caught me in a moment of weakness, but at least she didn't mock me for it.

"Your welcome," she smiles before reaching for the tennis rackets she had thrown on the ground before coming to help me. Certain that was the end of the exchange, I turned back to the pool where pieces of metal and loose book pages float carelessly on the surface.

It was just a bunch of junk anyway.

"Hey," Sarah turns, rubbing the back of her head subconsciously, "I'm going to save mice from the birds," she says, pointing out to the bottom of her garden where the surge has blown over, waterlogging the grass.

I just blink at the girl, confused as to why she is even telling me this. Letting out a gentle huff, "I have a spare racket," she offers, holding out one of the two rackets she has in her hands.

Finally catching what she's throwing, I look anywhere but her direction, "I can't," hoping to find a legit excuse as to why I don't want to help her be a hero for mice. Then it hit me, "I'm supposed to be babysitting Wheezie."

My triumphant smile fell as fast as it came when Sarah says, "The powers back on, Wheezie will not willingly come outside again," still holding out the bat for me to take, "Also, my dad's back, so your shift ended about 20 minutes ago."

The more reasons she adds, the more difficult she is making it to say no, and she knows it as well. Her eyebrows dancing lightly as she waves the racket around like a tempting treat.

Giving in, seeing as though I have run out of excuses to give, I grudgingly accept the racket. Maybe her being the sworn enemy of my best friend would have been a good excuse, but I didn't think of that at the time. And what would I of said:

'Oh, I can't help you, even though you selflessly helped me, because my best friend hates your guts.'

What are we, middleschoolers?

I can't help but feel wrong about it though. Like I'm betraying my role as a pogue, as a best friend. But if I feel that way about just being near the kook princess, that doesn't make me any better than her brother. A judgmental prick.

Let's call it paying back a debt. She helped me, now I'll help her. Tit for tat. Anything to make my mind feel at ease.

Walking behind the women who seemed to be on a mission, I'm met by the shrieking flock of overhead seagulls, each nosediving into the burrows, hoping to catch their next meal.

"Operation ‘Save The Mice’ is a go," she announces, holding out her racket waiting for me to tap mines against hers, declaring our battle. I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why does this concern us?" tapping my racket unsurely against hers.

Nodding her head in confirmation, she takes her stance, eyes now set on the sky. "You have about as much compassion as a rock," she focusses her swing, untimely missing by a long shot. It was entertaining to watch, I'm not going to lie.

"Tell me something I don't know," I reply, leaping back as the girl swings her racket with vigour and fury at the diving gulls. I can't help but laugh at her attempts.

Having enough of my laughter she turns around, a challenging look flaring in her eyes, "Think you can do any better?"

I just shrug my shoulders, twirling the racket around my fingers, smirking at my trick, but Sarah just looks unimpressed. Watching as a flock of gulls take their position to dive, I jump as high as possible hoping to swat them away.

At that moment I learned something about human capability. Humans shouldn't jump. Like ever. It's embarrassing. What do we expect? To touch the stars? It's nice to dream and imagine that when we push both legs of the ground, arms reaching high, that we are close to flying. Let's just say my non-existing dream to become an Olympic long jumper has just flushed down the toilet.

Another thing I learned is that when you swing a racket, with force, at a cluster of hungry Seagulls, you will get attacked. The only thing between them and they're next meal is me, and they didn't hesitate to remove me from the situation.

Letting out a shriek, I run away from the burrows, hands protecting my head as the birds swoop at me. Without a second thought, I run behind Sarah, using her as a shield to protect my crouching figure from the diving gulls.

After two minutes of fearing for my life, I can't help but chuckle at myself. And Sarah joins in, shoving my arm lightly, pushing me away from hiding behind her. The sudden shove causes me to stumble over my own feet, falling back on the grass. I couldn't help but laugh more, seeing stars as my stomach cramps in pain.

Sarah holds out her hand, trying her best to keep her balance from laughing, offering to help me up. I accept without a second thought, allowing her to pull me to my feet. Both smiling widely at our stupidity.

"Let's get these birds," I smirked at the girl who nodded her head in agreement. Both of us taking a battle stance, ready to defend our people. Or well Mice. They attack us, we attack them.

A cold shadow suddenly covers the setting sun that was shining against us. We let out another shriek, holding each other as we attempt to duck from the relentless gulls, running away from the burrows.

"Sarah!" I hear someone shout over our screams. Too busy protecting ourselves, we didn't even register the voice, "Mason?!" They ask in confusion.

Finally feeling safe enough from the killer birds, I look up to see Mr Cameron making his way towards us with Lana Grubbs at his side. 'Why is she here?'

"We're busy!" Sarah exclaims, picking up and tossing me the racket I had dropped when I fell, going back to swinging at the birds. She takes one side of the burrows and I take the other, waving around my racket. At this point I don't even care about the mice, those birds attacked me! So, I'm attacking them!

"What are you two doing?" Mr Cameron asks, not understanding why his daughter and his hired babysitter are running around like headless chickens.

"Saving mice," I reply, flashing my eyes over to the man, who stands with an ever so slightly amused look. "The birds are having a field day," Sarah adds, pulling me with her, chasing after the devils in the sky.

"Girls, the birds have to eat too," He implies, but we didn't hear any of it, still aimlessly swinging. "No, it's a mouse genocide out here," Sarah states breathlessly.

"It's the circle of life," Mr Cameron's patience was running thinner, "Now come on, I have a human being-" finally introducing the other presence in the garden. This pauses our attack, both looking apologetically at the lady, "-I'm so sorry. I'm Sarah."

Shaking the ladies hand, "This is Lana Grubbs, Scooter's wife," Mr Cameron introduces, "You were storm prepping with him, right?" he asks his daughter.

"Yeah," she answers, still breathless, "He helped me latch the cabin to the Druthers," nodding her head in the direction of the docked boat at the end of the pier.

'It's a nice boat,' I thought taking in the beauty of the three-story yacht, 'You can't hide money, huh.'

"Last night?"

"Yeah."

"And did he go out after that?"

"From here?"

"Yeah."

"No. Are you crazy? There was a hurricane," Sarah laughs lightly at the thought of someone willingly going out during a storm.'I could think of a few people,' bringing my attention back to the two adults in front of me.

"Well, did he say where he was going?" Miss Lana asks, her eyes erratic, "Get a phone call or mention anything?" The desperation lacing her voice makes my heart stop with sympathy for the woman.

"He didn't say anything to me," Sarah shakes her head, her tone not hiding her pity for the lady.

"What about you Mason?" Mr Cameron asks me, "Have you seen Scooter recently?" his questions sparking Miss Lana to look my way, her eyes glistening with withering hope.

"The last I saw of him was when Pope and I delivered to your house," regret instantly hit me, as I had to be the bearer of bad news. It was true though. The last time I saw Scooter was earlier this week when he opened the door for his groceries. I've seen him at Save-A-Lot a few times, but that was months ago when I had to tell him to leave because other customers were complaining that he was bothering them for money.

"I'm sorry," I apologise to the lady who just shakes her head, looking at the ground.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asks her dad who just nods, wrapping an arm around Miss Lana, "He's absolutely fine," he reassures Sarah, before guiding the dazed woman back towards the house.

"Oh!" I hear Mr Cameron exclaim, spinning round to face me, digging through his pockets, "Thank you for watching Wheezie today," he says, placing a brown envelope in my hand.

"Thank you, sir," I smile with gratitude as he makes his leave again.

Sighing, I slap the envelope a few times in my hand, turn back to a Sarah. I go to snap her out of her daydream, but get interrupted by a distant voice, "Hey Sarah!"

At the top of the disarranged lawn stood a scornful Topper, hands in his pockets as he looks down on us, making his way over at a snail pace.

"You better go," I flick my head in the direction of her boyfriend whose eyes are slitted with distaste. Holding out the racket for her to take, she nods her head and makes her way over to Topper, not even sparing me a glance.

I get it.

"I want you to stay away from that pogue, alright?" I hear him utter not so quietly under his breath, knowing fine well that I'm still able to hear him. I pay him no mind, finding my own way out. That's what he wants. Attention. That's always been what Toppers wants. And I'm not going to give him that satisfaction. Not anymore.

Humming a gentle tune under my breath as I make my way towards the gate. I double-take when I spot a hunched figure sitting by the pool, "Wheezie?"

My sudden appearance spooking her as she ripped the earphones out from her ears, the buds projecting a catchy pop beat. The girl sat on the cold slabs, clad in yellow rubber gloves and safety goggles, surrounded my various cleaning tools: a basin of soapy water, a toothbrush, a blow torch?

"What are you doing?" I ask sceptically, making my way towards her as she stuttered over her words before giving up with a sigh.

"I heard what Rafe said," she admits, her voice low as though afraid to speak out against her brother. That's the Rafe effect. He gets off on it. Knowing that everyone around him, his family included, is too scared to tell him he's a mess with even messier opinions. "And it not true," she adds.

Wheezie walks over, holding out the shoe buckle that we found on the beach. The once rusted and unrecognisable buckle now sparkled a blinding silver, and despite its eroded corners, it was still in great condition, "Pretty, right?" she notices my expression, "That's not the best part," she claims, turning over the buckle, holding it out of me to take.

Engraved on the silver base scribed, 'Made in Occupied Japan.'

"I couldn't save everything, like books and stuff, but I tried my best. I even made a box and everything," She rambles, rushing over to pick up the homemade box that read, "Lost and Found," painted in bold, pink lettering. In the box sat: a polished pin, the candlestick holder, a handful of leather wallets and all the other salvageable treasure that we found. And now the shoe buckle.

"It's not junk," she says, passing me the box, "They belong to someone and I hope they find them," she says, rubbing the back of her tinted red neck, finally understanding why I had her help me in the first place.

It's not junk.

I'm not great when it comes to other peoples emotions. They make me want to shrivel up and go invisible, but I can't help but admire the girls change of heart, but I'm still awkward so, I just ruffle her hair, hoping the annoying act conveys my gratitude.

Having enough of me for one day, Wheezie pushes me toward the gate, practically kicking me out. "See you next time kid," I shout over my shoulder, smiling as her face grovels at the word 'kid'.

Basking at my long journey home, I give up attempting to balance the light box in my arms. I place it on the sidewalk, unzipping my waist bag wanting to tuck the brown envelope, that I was struggling to hold, away.

The clattering of glass pauses my actions. Reaching in, I pick out a small piece, watching as the setting sun danced across the surface, shining every colour of the rainbow onto the tarmac.

'S.G'

Chapter Three: FIN!

I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even though it’s kind of filler. Kie would be proud of Mason for beach combing, her tendencies are rubbing off on her.

I choose for Mason not to go to the motel because that’s just what I choose, I don’t really have a reason why. Well I do, but I can’t tell you yet. You’ll find out eventually, if my idea goes to plan...

So we learned about Mason very perfessional babysitting service. Also I know that Rafe is, y’know bad, but I’m excited to explore Mason’s relationship with him. It will be interesting to write!

What did you think?

I’m really excited to write the next chapter. Mason is going to get buzzed.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

Also, if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters, just let me know and I’ll for sure do that!

*TAGLIST*

@xshinytrashcanx @prejudic3 @annoylinglyaries

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