#their parents stolen from them but the spaces left behind unable to be filled

[clotpolesonly]

Mister Impossible ch 29 // Mister Impossible ch 31

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 67

English Composition broke off the animated chatter of the latest slew of papers that mentioned the President’s words and then delved to new directions while you settled into the new desk off the side of the front row without an attached desk. A few days back in the former week the evident inch to the side you made to avoid squishing your belly with the L shaped attached desk that brought out one of the desks set aside for the occasional expecting mothers to begin the start of the difference of your place in classes. Beginnings of more changes that were to come while eyes could now gauge just how long you might have left and every loop of your arms around the protruding belly that occasionally you amusingly rested things on top of to find comfortable positions or angles to work with as much ease as possible.

Trig and Calculus held more room in their desks for the men usually in use of them. The latest stories on new discoveries from the new large telescopes were brought out for Astronomy and books were consulted to enforce what facts and details were necessary to understand the news fully. A sudden glance to the clock on the wall by one student when the class felt a bit long had you all scramble for gathering your things to free seats for the incoming students while you made for the next class. The empty seat for you seemed to put a lock on your Sociology class that all looked your way when you came in a few minutes late. One hushed apology and an explanation and in relief the Professor began the lesson when you took your seat after a chuckle at the distraction from the latest news from space.

Hot and humid random bouts of breezes from open windows and turning fans to the final class after having spent a good part of the last class with a spare bit of folded paper in hand to keep cool. Quick and sharp mid paragraph on an argument to answer the prompt given a shriek left your lips at the feathery body that collapsed onto your desk. Over your lips to the shiver of feathers and fix of wings your hand settled for a wide eyed stare at the now upright Barred Owl that sat atop your desk that blinked at you to the open of the classroom door revealing the twins who wide eyed found you and the reason for your shriek that called them there.

The soft squeak heard in the silent room had its head turn and named the reason why it had flown in, a small mouse was snatched up and carried back out the open window. Quietly the twins eased back out of the classroom while your Professor came over to help pick up your things that had been scattered to the floor uncertain of what to say other than to remind of how much longer he was to give the class to finish filling out the sheet. To a pat of your free hand on your belly you got back to the assignment that afterwards two people were chosen to share their answers with the rest of the lesson to follow. Another note however once class was called found you on the way back to the fake courtroom again where you flashed a grin to the students gathered there.

The TA came over at the side of the lead Professor who grinned and greeted you, “Welcome, welcome. Heard you had a mishap with an owl.”

“Oh, ya, flew in a window to chase a mouse and landed on my desk. No harm done. These cases better than the last two?”

The Ta said, “Well, Divorce Hearing and an Art Heist Trial. Hard to have as many difficulties as before, these two Lawyers do try to make difficult cases with new plot lines compared to the first two.”

You nodded and glanced to the preteen near to one of the students who was accepting a packet of his own and asked, “That kid is part of the cases too?”

The Professor nodded, “Yes, Billy’s brother to stand in as his son for the case. Usually hangs around after his class gets out so they can head home together and in a couple weeks will be out of class and have plenty of time to come and help with the Divorce Hearing if we did need a testimony from the child involved.”

“How is there the same amount of evidence for these cases as the first two? I take it there’s one for the divorce and the rest are for the heist?”

“Half and half actually,” that had you huff.

“Let me guess, I get to read another diary of the loosest men and women legally tethered together.”

The TA as you accepted the clipboard to sign the form to accept the file boxes now loaded onto a dolly by him smirked saying, “I wish we had more to offer case wise than attacks on character and morals. You must be exhausted of it after having to read the first set of evidence.”

In passing back the clipboard to the 2nd Professor who approached you replied, “We can barely go a mass without hearing the word whore, I’m not exhausted the word has lost its sting and I’m just disappointed honestly at the lack of imagination. I know children who can reduce grown men to tears if they need help on that front they could even consult Officer Browen’s boy, he could blow these cases out of the water for what they could be.”

Making the men chuckle and grin to the TA who said, “True, very true. Hopefully next year we could add in a line of teens to run these cases by. You know I can’t remember going through a week of high school without crying.” He said playfully on your joint step to the door and he asked, “You?”

“Well, I was an orphan in a Catholic School, practically disowned and I can’t remember speaking without my voice cracking until I got into the school in Canada that got us girls enrolled in Nursing courses to help the efforts.”

“They really got you in high school?” He paused and said, “I know you’re young, but how young were you?”

“Fifteen, for the Nursing courses, then um, I was sixteen when me and Eddie got sent to that base hospital. I’m 22 now, got my GED a couple years after I’d have graduated high school. So my odd timeline is a bit jumbled compared to normal education markers.”

“Wow, 22, and that’s with a Bachelor’s Degree of Medicine?”

“Science, but, same horse different hat.”

“And with babies on the way in the middle of more degree hunting. And I thought my working nights while at school was rough.”

“My dad worked in a factory to fund his try for a degree here and to save money for my schooling and my other brother Steve’s. Neither of them got to their degree but I am determined to get to the finish line.”

“Well save for more owl attacks you should get there in no time,” he joked and you chuckled to yourself and slowly took the few steps between wings he eased the dolly down the steps. Excited chatter picked up to the soft sway of the fan in your hand to try and bring up any details that could let on how much fun or how long these two cases might last.

James outside of the car smiled in opening the trunk for him and helped to load up the six cases then watched the TA hurry back while you lowered into the car to sit down out of the sun. Behind you the boxes were levitated to the library where you settled the Art Heist Evidence that your family gladly listened to the case that had one twin out of a pair that could both likely be culpable for the crime. And yet the one on trial had a sound seeming alibi merely for the hint that the lead in charge of the investigation had a grudge with him. The twin spurned his daughter years prior and contrasting the ridiculous crime itself.

With little proof they arrested him for the robbery on Mr Barnham’s mansion, one of several he owns, while he threw a costume party at another. Several priceless gold statues along with gem accented decorations were taken along with a solid ruby/ivory/ebony piano and a variety of black market paintings and marbles. Almost all of the black market pieces were returned to the museums and exhibits they were stolen from. The gem based goods are still missing. All the portraits and statues were replaced by ones modeled around cats.

Every testimony was read through before you closed the box after finishing on the alibi for the twin on trial that had you hope they pulled that up quick to have you throw the case out. Although for your luck you knew they would want to stretch it out to use as much of the information given as possible.

Emil Schmidt – Age 32, Job – Advertising, Parents well off, Met in high school. Has had several affairs then he filed for separation. Already in new relationship with latest mistress who is a co-worker. That was the Husband in the mix before you delved into the Wife and child.

Wife – Sylvia Schmidt – Age 31. Daughter of a painter, painter herself, mother is a concert pianist. Tried to file for separation before then she found out she was pregnant and had to stay with him for son’s sake. Their nine year old son was in several clubs with great grades.

The witnesses for the Husband sprawled out from bad to worse and almost had you in a fight against tears for what these pretend people were saying about this nonexistent woman. Friend who tries to say wife could be a better mom and wasn’t a good wife. Former Boss of hers in gallery to say she couldn’t keep up with employment to hint she would be unable to provide for son. A shrink he had consulted about her who hasn’t seen or spoken to her who diagnosed her as unstable. Assistant who says she demands gifts and is bad with and is after money.

Fully contrasting her witnesses that weren’t as venomous against him as his had been at her. Ex Mistress, bad breakup with hubby for younger woman, not the only one. Former Driver who says husband drinks heavily and has seen him degrade her over the years. Current Mistress of the Hubby. Tutor for son who says he’s been to both places and seen conditions son has to study in. Mom helps him but dad’s has more space for him to spread out his work.

Assets came next with little mention of anything concrete for the future of the family that furrowed your brows and had Eddie ask, “Problem with the case?”

“He has no will, no investments, doesn’t even own the house they’re fighting over,” you flipped the page, “Or the car.”

James rumbled, “That’s a terrible plan. Nine year old, what happens if he kicks it?”

Victor, “Even for the new Wife, no matter how young she is, I take it she’s younger than the current Mrs Schmidt?”

“Eleven years younger.” That had the brothers chortle and you said, “And eleven years older than their son.”

Eddie, “Now that’s shameful. One for the Mrs and two above all for the kid.” He pointed to James, “I mean you’re 117 years older than Bunny but even if there was an adult kid involved her and them wouldn’t be almost on even scales maturity wise. 9 is a short skip to teens when feelings and hormones start to rage and that Mistress just out of her teens relates more to the kid than the dad who grew up pre-Depression while she grew up after. I mean he’s old enough to have been drafted with a kid left behind and the Mistress was still in school probably running bond raises.”

Unable to help it you giggled and in Eddie’s rise to go help Teddy lift his bucket of colors that got stuck you caught James’ eye and made him ask you, “What’s funny?”

“What was your fake birth year again?”

That had him chuckle and Victor said, “You’re still half his age with the fake numbers. Bumped our years up a century.”

Norma giggled and leaned in to press a kiss to her husband’s cheek, “And you look phenomenal for your age.”

“Oh, Jeanie, I have that screenplay, or the first half of it, if you’ll check what I have for it?” She nodded and when you were helped up she joined you in the living room where you left your bag to offer her the notebook you had been writing the new draft inside to be typed up later on when it was finished properly up to par. Onto the chairs you settled and in her move to your side with use of a red pen you made note of the changes she mentioned on the pages for small things that could be expanded upon later in the new draft you would have completed by the days off.

.

Two more Photography Clubs and a meet up of the Paper came between you and your free Friday evening that had you with a second notebook to hold the draft for now the whole screenplay that you made note could possibly stretch the film to three hours if they cut nothing out. At your side with equally as furrowed brows Eddie typed up the second half of the screenplay while you typed up the first half on matching typewriters to get the task completed quicker. And by the time you were on the final page the doorbell sounded and with news of more casting news Stark came in and boasted to you all before with a smile he took hold of the first chunk of the screenplay he chose a chair to dig in to the more detailed layout.

“Bunny this is brilliant,” he said while Eddie took the final page he shook and laid on top of the upside down stack he stood to ease underneath your stack you added your own final page to moments prior to complete the hefty screenplay.

“I thought it might be a bit too thick actually.”

“No,” he said, “I love the extra bits, any that you’ve added. And it gives us some cushion for later to work with.”

“Well I think that’s all of it, so you won’t be held up by it.”

“I am not held up. But I can get this to the printer today and by tomorrow for the new copies of scripts to hand out. I’ll make sure you get a couple copies yourself on top of Norma’s.”

“Okay, hopefully I didn’t miss a typo in there.”

Eddie smirked and said, “There’s an x’ed out R in mine.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Doesn’t matter, the printer will skip that.”

“If anything I think Jeanie will have it memorized by the time you are filming, she’s given the drafts a few reads and given me some notes on how to fix it up.”

Jarvis beside him asked, “How do you plan to spend your day off?”

“Well Ambrose and her Husband are expecting us at the birthing class tonight. There’s only four moms in town due soon and the Nuns like even numbers, so even though they know the ins and outs they’re up for support.”

Howard said, “Didn’t you help with the three munchkins around here?”

“Ya, but still, it’s sort of expected and since I see another Doctor and not the Maternity Home here weekly they still invited me to participate in their classes. I mean three babies at once, could use all the tips I can get. And I think it’d be worth the giggle to have James mothering a doll. Him and Vic melt just tucking in Teddy’s bear in with him at nap time.”

Howard chuckled and said, “Well I hope it helps. Heard they even have meditation now for moms.”

“Just hope they don’t try to get me to lay down on the floor like they did with Gina in her last baby, I need a nest to lay down on my side and on my back is out of the question.”

.

Lunch was next in the absence of your guests and afterwards signaled Gina and her Husband’s arrival to escort you and James through town to the same Maternity Home where you saw the elated Nurses and Nuns there in the clinic you passed through. Beyond the mothers not so far along and those who had already given birth you felt eyes on your wide belly that was visible in the dips of your dark grey overall shorts that rested over the peach polka dot coated sleeveless blouse. Right beside you with hand on your back James strolled with a grin on his face for this next step that would hopefully help to warm you up to the change coming. Nervous slightly himself to see what the lessons were on since the last time he was expecting a child there were no prenatal classes to be had. As if Eddie and Victor’s sharing of classes had simply been wiped from his mind now that you were here. And the sight of Dr Roan who smiled widely had you smile back on the way to the side room where a quartet of mats were laid out on the floor.

“Ambrose, and Bunny,” the glasses wearing nurse with a Scottish accent said with a smile and said, “You two can get ready to settle onto your mats with daddy behind you.”

With a small grin you hushedly spoke with Ambrose and James to choose between the final two open mats where James lowered with hold of your hips to help you down to your knees. Gently to your right side you lowered to your hip after releasing the hands of the most experienced Nun who came to check on you herself after not having seen you since Teddy’s rough birth. “There you are Bunny.” Her smile spread to the sight of your tucking your legs underneath you in a slight lean forward that aided in James’ gentle stroke of your back as he settled his legs on either side of yours. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, made sure to eat first so the girls are in a good mood.”

“That is very good,” she said and moved to check on the other mothers making sure to recall to check on you later when the class was over.

The second soft speaking Nun who to the record that the Nurse with glasses turned on to set a calming mood for the beginnings of recommendations on positions, “And if you can stretch out your legs and lean back into Daddy’s chest.”

Her eyes landed on you that had you giggle and say, “I can’t stretch my legs straight out or my feet go numb when I’m upright.”

And softly she chuckled, “Best we don’t have that. Cross legged is just fine, and will help to stretch your pelvis and thighs for your babies.” Moving to stroll around the other couples while you smiled at Ambrose in her relax into her husband’s chest as James eased you back into his to take your weight and let you relax.

Talks and a few sparse jokes mingled through the guided show on breathing and close eyed guided meditation to help relax through birth until the talks of how baby shifts that a fellow young mom to be in the back was being guided through this by her mom. “This is where your down bellows sneeze on you.”

That had you giggle along with James to the Nun saying, “The mucus plug is next to arrive on you, yes.”

That had Ambrose look your way and she giggled to your point her way as you said, “I remember for your second you let out this shriek in the toilets at the market, frightened that girl Bridget to almost wet herself thinking someone had broken in.”

James hummed, “Must have been a fun story to share with you,” to her Husband who smiled and shook his head.

You giggled again as Ambrose said, “Only thing more terrifying to him than a baby coming out was knowing there’s more to it than that.”

The Nun chuckled and guided you through the next set of steps and got into a few positions to help labor along until she asked each of you how you planned to have the babies you were carrying. Ending with you of course that had you giggle and say, “Bit hard to plan mine. My Doctor has been talking about either a push birth or a possible c-section. Planning for both I suppose.”

“Are you frightened about that?”

With a shrug you said, “They’re going to have to come out one way or another. And I seem to be following the plan superbly, and that’s a quote from my Doctor who would know the best way to go after having helped my mom have me.”

The other two mothers in more in depth conversations delved into that with the arrived Nurses from the now closed clinic with Dr Roan in their group who came to lower at your side and sit on the ground with a kind smile. “We are all glad to see you here today. Are you in the third trimester mark already?”

With a nod you answered, “28 weeks tomorrow, so just on the cusp of it.”

“And your next appointment is?”

“Tomorrow,” you said and to the shift of your belly his smile widened and you said, “They love to kick and wrestle around.”

“May I?” he asked in a lift of his hands and you nodded and guided his hands to rest a palm on each baby and the third the Nun felt.

“There’s a butt here, and this one’s a head, and a back here. At least for now until they swim around on me.”

The Nun asked, “Is your tummy always this stiff?”

“Only a few hours after I eat, then I get these weird gurgling noises and it all relaxes. My Doctor said it’s just my system adjusting to the new weight and moving gasses.”

That had her grin ease out as he said, “Well you seem to be growing very well with little signs of discomfort.”

A tape measure was produced with impressed grins at the size and shared presumed weight of four and a half pounds each so far by what you had gained taken as guesses by your Doctor. All promising of good signs you could make it to the final few weeks if possible. And all seemed to be in high spirits when your sister and brother in law led you and James back home to relax again and share about the first class.

.

Eisenhower broke the silence of the upright courtroom, “Good Afternoon, be seated.”

He sat next in the ripple of replied, “Good Afternoon, Your Honor.” and eyed the crowd who took their seats again to the approach of Officer McTavish who passed you a sheet of paper for the open file on the desk after he read, “Good Afternoon Judge. This is case number #. The State of New York vs Lewis Patzer.”

“Thank you Officer McTavish.” Your eyes shifted over the eager students in their assigned seats on Council and the trio on trial who simply were waiting for you to ask, “Are all parties and Council present?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” both sides stated and then the Prosecution stood for the one in the paler suit to speak, “District Attorney Antonio Speltzer for the Prosecution and this is Thomas Wnters for Assistant District Attorney.”

They sat down and while the judges took note of the progress to far or procedure being followed the Defense got their turn to stand to name their three male pretend client on his feet beside him, “Vernon Dorman, Your Honor, on behalf of Lewis Patzer.”

You asked when they sat down to the General’s own check mark on his procedure notes at your right, “Are all parties ready to continue?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the four Lawyers stated and from your notes you eyed the charges to be read off for each.

“Lewis Patzer,” you said and the student for her and for Vernon Dorman stood for the read of charges, “You are charged with Robbery and Possession of Stolen Goods, how do you plead?”

To the charges Stark’s mouth quirked up into a grin just barely in shock for what sort of trial this was and he heard his lawyer state, “Not Guilty, Your Honor.”

You nodded and made your own note of that on your notepad and stated, “The Court is ready to hear recommendations on bail now.”

For that the DA Antonio Speltzer stood and with notes in hand stated, “Your Honor the State recommends bail be withheld on each of the Defendants. Mr Peltzer is in possession of ample funds from this crime and is able to fund an escape out of the country.”

Lawyer for Mr Peltzer, Vernon Dorman stood and said, “Your Honor, my client is innocent in all of this. And was merely arrested on counts of bias on behalf of the Lead Investigator. He has no criminal history. Your Honor my client is willing to surrender his passport to remain at home through this baseless trial.”

The curious author who watched his trial come to life and wet his lips as you said, “Agreed, bail is set at $. Officer Browen please escort Mr Peltzer out to see to that.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he said accepting the signed bail sheet you handed over to him while the Defendant and his attorney thanked you to the scoffs of the DA in mock irritation to his being freed.

Smirks spread through the audience as the trio stood and were escorted out to the nearest room in the hall outside while notes were taken of this part of the trial being covered and both sides of Council readied as one by one from the final group of 24 students the Jury questioning was carried out. Just a couple questions were asked to speed up the process out of the pre-selected groups from each side with some removed and traded for more acceptable options.

Jury – 12 people

7 male/ 5 female

3 Late 30’s and up / 9 Low 30’s -18

8 rich/ 4 blue collar

To the assignment of those Jurors those students were relieved to fill up the only Juror Pool of these final set of trials and were excused from the courtroom to be given proper instruction while you closed the case for the day and stated the date that the case would be resumed. Pleased with the first step concluded the Council all filed out to take seats and allow the Council for the second case to file in for their own turn.

.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

“Are both parties present and ready?”

Both on their feet the Husband’s Lawyer Samuel Felton and the Wife’s Lawyer Lee Hogue spoke together, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Samuel Felton here today for Emil Schmidt.” And the other Lawyer spoke, “Lee Hogue on behalf of Sylvia Schmidt.”

You nodded and asked, “Have you two at least come to the agreement on who opens the case?”

Lee Hogue smirked and said, “We have, Your Honor.” While the other students sat he continued to share the background of the relationship of the duo. “Almost out of a storybook these two met, Mr Schmidt from white collar roots while my client came from a daughter of a painter and a concert pianist who over the dividing lines of an artistic family and one of a more pragmatic family bent on successful business ledgers began to date in High School. And over the years Mrs Schmidt has faithfully stood beside Mr Schmidt through numerous infidelities and social set backs while he found his footing in the Advertising world. A trial separation by my client was approached nearly a decade ago until it was confirmed she was pregnant with their child, Daniel, who is nine now. We are here today because Mr Schmidt again is in another relationship outside of the marriage and wishes to marry his mistress whom he met at his place of employment.”

“Very well,” General Eisenhower stated in the sip of water you took from the glass at your seat to wash down the scratch you felt at the back of your throat to a speck of dust in the air that wafted down from the fans above now in use after months of sitting stationary.

To the lower of the glass mention of the offered prenuptial agreement was detailed and then the points of deal breakers ended the day on a term of complete shambles to negotiations and work ahead to add in new assets gained since the date of the wedding. And the hushed murmurs and stolen glances were silenced with a welcomed gavel slam to free you all into cooler halls with notice of Friday as the next day to meet up.

.

Divorce outside of your case found itself in the headlines and above the picture of the moment where you and James stole a kiss after the trial. Your hand on his belly and his on yours in the toe top pose had speculation that a divorce and custody battle was underway with a wait until the baby was born for him to drop the bomb on you. Giggles and chuckled comments was the response when the headline was brought up with your grin being split wider to the jokes your favored Professors had come up with for this new development on yet another story in poor taste.

All false but it sold papers and for the addition to the piles of headlines like tear away calendars that got you closer to another week closer to Canada. Closer to the film that Norma was so eager to get started on that you had written and the home repairs that could keep the guys from hovering around you like concerned chickens ready to cuddle with the incoming babies. Dawn as well looked forward to be back near to her family who was aching to see how big Teddy and Marigold had grown and shower their grandbabies with as much love as possible to help grant ample time for you to relax and focus on your nesting phase.

Small steps would get you home again and your lives ready for this next step. Small steps like the next day where you completed another yearbook event you photographed while Portia took notes on the event for the paper. And while Victor printed the photographs for you up in the new Nursery where James found and smiled joining you in arranging small things around the trio of cribs the Brocks had lovingly made quilts and cushioned covers for the inside of them. Careful tucks and adjustments of items around the built in units the guys made for you while you were at school covering a full wall to the changing table opposite the mural coated wall the supply of diaper cloths with snaps to avoid delirious accidental stabs on pins was given their weekly refold.

Up around your back James molded and covered your belly with his hands to a press of his lips on your temple and murmured lovingly, “We’ll be ready for the girls.”

“We need gates for the steps,” that had him smirk and he hummed approvingly as you said, “Teddy nearly flipped over the pop up ones last month. Frightened Dawn half to death and Goldie and Petal will be up and around soon.”

“Okay, let’s sketch some stair gates. Me and Vic will make them while you’re at school and Dawn takes the munchkins to Mamma Brock’s.”

You nodded and to the sitting area in your room he helped you to come up with a simple solid door on a hinge with horizontal planks anchored by two vertical boards on either side with a board diagonally cut between them. Like small barn doors they would be anchored on hinges that would lock in place on the opposite banister to keep the babies from being able to clamber down the stairs without an adult to guide them. Grey and white were the chosen colors and everyone loved the designs that after supper James and Victor got to measuring the staircases for each at the tops and bottoms while you and Dawn soaked your feet.

Pt 68

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @changlingkhat​

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam​​, @swoopswishsward

[thejamesoldier]

Every Tomorrow

AO3 Link

a/n: Did I write this fic bc I slammed face first back into the inuyasha fandom after the premiere of yashahime? Absolutely. Did I write this fic so I could get those g o o d domestic inukag feels? Absolutely. Did I write this fic as a way to come to terms with the fact that one of my first crushes as a kid happened to be an animated dog man? Absolutely. Enjoy yall xxx

(this goregous gif isn’t mine!) 

rating: explicit 

pairing: inuyasha x kagome

tags: protective inuyasha, jealous inuyasha, emotionally constipated inuyasha, honestly whats new, youkai mates, soulmates, youkai culture, mate bonds, mate rituals, touch-starved inuyasha, shippo is kagome’s son dont talk to me, mirsan as parents, sesshoumaru is still kinda a prick but we like him now, angst and smut and fluff, domestic bliss, srsly this shit is so soft i should be arrested, non-canon compliant with yashahime, shit ton of inukag being cute tbh

summary: 'Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.'

or

my excuse to write some indulgent domestic inukag and explore their happy ending

Chapter 1 - mizpah 

The day is grey.

Clouds rumble low and thick over the skyline, swallowing the tops of buildings in the distance and casting deep shadows across the shrine grounds. Kagome is supposed to go out today, a few friends asked her to grab lunch at some new bistro that's opened up near campus. She'd been contemplating how to work the impending downpour into an excuse to stay home, never really having the energy for much these days. Parsing out when to expend the limited energy she did have had become a constant chore since being cut off from --

A familiar pain twangs through her chest, the ache almost welcome. It's all she has left of him.

Maybe it's the rain, maybe its the gloom of the day pulling out the worst of her longing, but regardless she finds herself pushing silently out of her room, walking downstairs, slipping outside, and standing before the closed doors of the Bone Eater's well. Drawn back once again to what was stolen from her. Kagome had promised herself she'd stop doing this, stop torturing herself -- stop giving in to the inexplicable sorrow of living a life without him. But just like the other times, the temptation to let the true weight of her loss pour into the gaping hole in her soul and fill her to the brim, make her so heavy with it that she's brought to her knees, is a poison she's unable to resist. She does this more regularly than she knows is healthy, but its the only way Kagome feels whole anymore. If she's not drowning in loss then she's empty, and Kagome isn't sure which is worse. Without a word she shoulders the doors open and descends the rotting stairs.

The familiar musty smell of earth and something not quite alive but not quite dead hits her. Kagome's eyes water at the memories the scent yields. Before she can stop herself her fingers come up to caress the splintering lip of the ancient well. It feels...empty, same as it always does when she comes in here. The sensation is akin to a sense of hollowness, that the shaft of negative space that runs down the well's center is truly all that's left of the magic that used to come alive for her. A silent sob wrenches down her throat, rendering her vulnerable to the torrent of emotion that swells in her. She let's each gasping breath tear her open, tear out all that's left of her. A sick relief floods her as the sorrow emerges fully and, as always, she crumbles to her knees under the burden of it.

Inuyasha...

Just saying his name, even in the privacy of her own mind, tares something vital out of Kagome's core. She hopes he knows, hopes that despite it all he knows that she is still his in every way a person could be. Disassembled and broken as she is, Kagome offers her anguish to the well praying that if it wouldn't return her to him, then it could at least take her devotion instead.

Carry it to him, remind him he's loved...

For a moment she considers descending the well and curling up at the bottom of it, willing her feelings to reach him, but the thought of her mother finding her like that again...she couldn't bare it. Her mom had been so heartbroken, so overwhelmed with worry when she found Kagome lying at the bottom of the well, cheek pressed to the dirt and eyes seeping tears that wouldn't stop. She wouldn't do that to her again. With that thought Kagome tries to rally herself, to yank her heart away from the addicting agony of missing him and prepares to push her mind into the nothingness she utilizes to numb the pain. She had allowed herself this much and it had to be enough for now, anymore and she'd send herself into a deeply harmful depressive state.

Kagome closes her eyes and uses the well to help heave herself to stand, movements slow and body sore, feeling like her limbs are made of lead. Before she turns to leave, Kagome grips the well as fiercely as she can with both hands. A feeling of intensity overtakes her in that moment and she's unable to think of anything but:

Inuyasha, Kagome declares to the emptiness of the well, I want to see you.

What happens next astounds her. Fate smiles in glee as -- finally -- the threads of time align and pull taught. A gentle breeze smelling of sunshine and wildflowers drifts up to Kagome, it's warm fingers brushing tenderly through the hair that hangs in her face. Kagome's eyes open with an audible gasp. Her heart blossoms because there, lying at the bottom of the well, is a cerulean sky -- a few wispy clouds floating lazily by. The sound of birds singing echoes up to her and suddenly, the Bone Eater's well bursts to life. Kagome is embraced by the energy of the well like an old friend as it resurrects in silent sparkling splendor around her. It soaks into her skin, her soul, filling her with hope instead of sorrow. It's pure life, and it beckons to her with such surety that it breaks Kagome's heart.

"Kagome?"

Her mother's voice forces a sharp exhale out of Kagome, she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. Kagome can't look away from the impossible sky below her though, she's frozen in shock and wrestles with the possibility that this isn't a dream. She's had so many that happened just like this. Kagome...Kagome doesn't dare to hope...

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Higurashi asks as she makes her way down the stairs and comes to a stop behind Kagome, concern strangling the usual softness of her tone into an unsure waver.

"Mom," Is all Kagome is capable of saying, and it comes out in a hoarse terrified whisper.

Kagome hears her mother give a small gasp of disbelief, before Mrs. Higurashi steps up close beside her daughter and peers down the well too.

"The sky," Kagome hushes, still unable to fully accept what's happening but slowly becoming afraid that this will all be ripped from her. Again.  

A gentle hand wraps around her shoulders and pulls Kagome back from the ledge. Kagome lets her mother do this, lets herself lean into her mother's warmth in the face of all this crushing possibility.

"Mom I," Are the shaky words Kagome tries to preface her departure with, not sure what to even say -- lost in how she's meant to articulate the avalanche of emotion she's feeling. Because even if this is a dream she can't bare to wait any longer, she needs to know if...if maybe the well heard her and is by some miracle answering her prayers.

Mrs. Higurashi turns Kagome around to face her, hands soft as they frame her daughter's shoulders.

"Kagome," Her mother says her name and it holds all the world in it, Kagome looks up and is immediately swept away by the love in her mom's eyes. Mrs. Higurashi smiles at her then -- kind eyes closing on tears that are beginning to fall, and Kagome nearly collapses, "I understand."  

With a sob Kagome embraces her mother for the last time.

"Tell Sota and Grandpa that I love them," Kagome murmurs in a rush.

Her mother only squeezes her tighter and nods. They shake in each other's arms for another breath before both pulling away.

"I am so proud of you Kagome," Mrs. Higurashi says, voice trembling with emotion but warm, always so warm.

"I love you Mama," Kagome responds as tears begin to swell in her eyes.

"Give this to him for me," Her mother requests as she takes Kagome's face in her hands, and leans in close to press a searing kiss to her forehead.

"Oh Mama," Kagome weeps as her mother's love wraps around her heart and fills her with a kind of joy she hasn't felt in years.  

Mrs. Higurashi leans back a little and uses her thumbs to wipe the wetness off of Kagome's cheeks.

"Tell him that I love him, that I've always seen him as a son, and that I am proud to have him be apart of our family."

Kagome deteriorates into a watery mess as the sentiments her mother just shared wash over her. Wordlessly, Mrs. Higurashi helps her daughter climb up onto the lip of the well before they simply stare for a moment, taking each other in one more time. Then her mother bestows her one last parting gift.

"Live Kagome," Her mom hushes, fierce happiness triumphant in her voice, as she releases her daughter's hands and watches as she turns to leap down the well, body disappearing from sight moments later.

Goodbye Mama, Kagome calls back as she sinks into time.

Kagome relishes the sensations traveling through the well give her -- a fierce nostalgia gripping her chest at the bursts of cobalt light, the galactic vastness watching her fall past, the light at the bottom of the well welcoming her home...

When she lands on solid ground a part of her fears so intensely that she's still in her time, that she refuses to open her eyes. What if she were to look up and see her mother staring down at her? Kagome hesitates for a moment, eyes closed, standing so still, terrified that this isn't real, and then something throbs in her chest --

She feels him, feels his youki hurtling towards her and suddenly, Kagome is no longer afraid.

Inuyasha!

Kagome opens her eyes and squints at the sky above her, the breeze she felt earlier encouraging her towards her future. She makes it about three fourths of the way up the well when she hears him. The pounding of his feet against the earth as he races closer, his aura a brilliant thriving thing that feels like the sun against her skin. Kagome smiles through tears of insurmountable joy as a shadow passes over her. She tilts her head back and finds a familiar silhouette bending over the ledge of the well. The figure is still for a moment, as if frozen in utter disbelief, before a clawed hand reaches down to her and with a shuttering exhale, Kagome takes it. Inuyasha hauls her up into the light and suddenly, he's in front of her -- he's real. His silver hair, his ears, his red haori, those eyes of molten gold that stare up at her with nothing less than his very soul bared for her to see. Kagome observes such belonging in him, such love, and it completes her.

"Inuyasha," She says his name, says it just for him, and he inhales, "I'm so sorry, were you waiting here for me?"

Inuyasha's expression shifts and Kagome gasps softly at the chaos he's trying to contain, but then he says her name. Says it just for her.

"Kagome."

A wet laugh escapes her lips at the sound of his voice, at how she used to long to hear him say her name, just like that.

"Inuyasha," Kagome murmurs again just because she can as her fingers play with the ends of his forelocks, eyes jumping all over his face trying to take in every part of him at once.

Unable to help herself, Kagome wraps both arms around his neck, relishing in the feel of his hair threading through her fingers, and presses her lips to his with a sigh. Inuyasha remains still for a moment, like his brain is one beat behind, before he clutches her to him so hard her lungs squeeze in her chest. Kagome doesn't care, in fact she doesn't feel like they're close enough. She wants to crawl her way into him and stay there forever, never to be separated again. The kiss feels like coming home, and it makes the part of her that sat empty for the past three years steadily fill. Inuyasha's lips are slightly chapped, she notes, and he kisses her like she's the only kind of devastation he'd willingly submit to. Impossibly, her love for him deepens further. Kagome pulls back with a gasp, trying to catch her breath as Inuyasha carefully sets her down on the ground, their lips brushing while the two of them tremble in the wake of such sweeping passion.

"Kagome," Inuyasha whispers her name again, like its the only word he knows, and dives back down to reclaim her lips.

She lets a soft noise shake loose from her chest when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his claws snagging on the material of her cardigan as he holds her close. Kagome feels a fang nip at her lower lip and, smiling into the kiss, she happily opens up for him. When their tongues meet, Inuyasha's hands raise to cup both sides of her jaw, mindful of his claws near such delicate skin. With something between a groan and a growl, he breaks their kiss to turn her head to the side, smoothing one reverent hand down the exposed length of her neck. Her heart beat picks up when in one long inhale, Inuyasha traces his nose in a steady line from her collarbone up to the patch of skin just below her ear. He makes a tender noise then, nearly a whine, and without preamble presses his face firmly into the arch of her neck, taking deep unhurried breaths through his nose. Kagome leaves one hand wrapped around the bulk of his shoulders, but brings the other one up to hold the back of his head in place against her. One of his ears flicks against her cheek and in a moment of raw delight, a giggle bubbles up from her throat as does a fresh wave of tears. Inuyasha flattens the offending ear against his skull but Kagome remains undeterred and drops a sweet kiss on to the delicate appendage, the soft fur tickling her lips a little. She holds him even closer as he melts against her at the intimate display of affection.

Oh kami she'd missed him so much.  

"Kagome!"

It takes a second for the two of them to come back down to earth, but the call of Shippo's voice encourages Kagome to turn towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Inuyasha makes a firm noise against the skin of her neck -- a warning, like he wasn't ready to let her go yet. He tenses when she ignores him and stiffens even further as Shippo continues to barrel closer. In the span of a heartbeat Inuyasha has Kagome behind him and lets a true growl rip from his throat. Kagome startles against his back, realizing belatedly that he'd just threatened Shippo.

--

"Inuyasha?" Kagome's words come out sounding like an odd mix of admonishment and worry.

Shippo looks genuinely shocked at being challenged with such a territorial threat display, having slid to an abrupt halt at Inuyasha's feet. Inuyasha comes back to himself after a few beats, brain catching up with his instincts, and his aggression falters.

"Slowly," Inuyasha grinds out as he steps to the side to allow Kagome to come forward, working furiously to relax his muscles.

Respecting Inuyasha's warning, Shippo moves very carefully towards Kagome, though he only manages to take two steps before Kagome is crashing to her knees and hauling him into her arms.

"Shippo!" She cries and Shippo immediately starts bawling.

The young kitsune grabs tuffs of her hair in his tiny fists and smashes his face into her neck, repeating her name over and over again unable to help himself. Inuyasha stiffens again at this, but grits his teeth against the instinct to tear the runt clean out of Kagome's arms. She wouldn't like that, and honestly neither would Inuyasha, he knows how much Kagome means to Shippo.

What's wrong with me?

"You, you made it back!" Sango bursts as her and Miroku catch up and come to a stop a few feet in front of them, kids in tow.

"It's been much too long Kagome!" Miroku calls in absolute astonishment.

"Miroku, Sango!" Kagome all but weeps as she rises from the ground, Shippo still held tight in her arms, and rushes to embrace them.

Inuyasha feels that angry tug in his gut again at the idea of so many scents polluting Kagome's skin so soon after getting her back, but the larger part of him can only smile as he watches his woman hug Sango then Miroku -- mindful of the kids in their arms and murmuring little 'hello's to them as well. He can smell the depth of their rapture as they all rejoice Kagome's return. It puts Inuyasha's heart into a state of profound contentment, and he realizes then that he's never felt this way before. Who knew anticipation could be a good feeling? Because damn was he ready to experience every single tomorrow with Kagome by his side.

--

The rest of the afternoon is spent celebrating. Kagome reunites with Kaede, the elder priestess nearly speechless with elation at seeing Kagome push aside the noren of her hut. To Kagome's surprise Rin is also there, the young girl delighted by Kagome's return as well, and hadn't hesitated to gush about how lonely Inuyasha was without her. Inuyasha had only shrugged at this, not denying it but still sent a betrayed glare Rin's way as color rose high on his cheeks. Kagome is welcomed back by the people of the village too, townsfolk she'd gotten to know during her time collecting jewel shards being especially pleased to see her, though they knew not where she'd gone. Kagome and Inuyasha stuck to each other like glue through it all, unwilling to part for even a moment. No one blamed them.

At one point Kagome started to panic because she had to pee of all things, and the thought of loosing sight of her hanyou if only for a minute terrified her. The fear that this was a dream kept gnawing at her, and the possibility that this could all be taken away at any moment made Kagome feel physically ill. She'd held it in as long as she could before walking nearly knock-kneed to relieve herself. It turned out Kagome needn't have worried at all because without a word Inuyasha had followed her, giving her true privacy for only as long as it took to empty her bladder before he was within her sights again. Kagome had blushed furiously when it occurred to her that him being so close while she used the bathroom probably meant that he could...smell it. When she tried to shoo him away he only stared at her, firmly shaking his head no once, and waited. After Kagome had finished she'd made her way back over to Inuyasha, feeling incredibly sheepish about the whole situation. The moment she was close enough though he'd pulled her into a desperate hug and whispered,

"Please bare with me Kagome, I-I can't..." He'd trailed off but Kagome was already hugging him back, refusing to let go. She understood.

They shared a grand feast with Sango and Miroku that evening, Kagome using the time to properly acquaint herself with their children. Shippo sat in her lap for most of the meal, and its as she stared at her friends -- her family, that Kagome realized that she'd been given something truly precious and everything in her vowed to never let it go. This was more than she could have ever hoped for, and the fear that this was temporary strangled her multiple times throughout the reunion. But Inuyasha was always right there beside her, and having him close ended up being the only way to ease the worst of her anxiety. After everyone finished their food and caught up on each other's lives as much as they could in one sitting (the serious questions being left for tomorrow), the pair said their goodbyes for the night. Shippo had fought to retire with Inuyasha and Kagome, but was stilled by Miroku's hand on his small shoulder. Kagome embraced Shippo before delivering a soft peck to his cheek, letting him nuzzle back for a beat or two more before promising to come back first thing in the morning.

Now Kagome and her hanyou are getting settled in a hut the villagers had built for Inuyasha that's set on the outskirts of the village. It's quite obvious to Kagome from the state of the place that Inuyasha hardly uses it, though she knows how lonely he gets by himself and she figures he probably spends most of his time with Sango and Miroku who live more centrally to the village. Inuyasha's hut is mounted at the peak of a sloping hill, the tallest in the surrounding area besides the shrine itself. At first she wondered if the villagers meant to ostracize Inuyasha by putting his hut so far from everyone else's, but as they reach the hill's zenith, she realizes it isn't a sign of disrespect but quite the opposite. The vista from his home has views of the entire village and even overlooks a decent portion of the forest. On the opposite side of the hut, miles of stunning countryside sprawls under the hazy light of the setting sun all the way to the horizon. Inuyasha would be able to spot danger days before it arrived, or gain minutes to whole hours of advantage if the threat was a youkai. The villagers aren't keeping him at a distance, they're treating him like their Lord, giving him the highest ground, the most control over the land -- trusting that he will use it to protect them. It makes Kagome's heart clench with raging pride.

"It's beautiful," Kagome finds herself murmuring as they stand side by side overlooking the village together, the wind shifting their hair about their shoulders.

"Yeah," Inuyasha says, sounding distracted.

His tone makes Kagome shift her gaze over to him but she finds that he's already staring at her. Before he would have turned away with a blush and started spouting some blistering nonsense in order to cover up the fact that he'd been caught, but now he lets himself look. It makes something in Kagome's lower stomach go tight. They take each other in for what feels like a bracketed infinity, the moment sacred somehow, and neither of them are willing to break it. Inuyasha takes a step closer and reaches his clawed hands down to gently collect her smaller ones. He brings her hands up to his chest, cradling them there, not once looking away from Kagome's eyes.

"I promise I'll protect you with my life." Inuyasha declares, his voice low and quiet and meant only for her.

Kagome takes an uneven inhale and her heart skips a beat as she realizes he's repeating the same vow he gave to her in her room the night her family was away at the hot springs all those years ago. It hits her then how utterly hers Inuyasha is, how devoted to her he was in the past and how he has remained that way since. It's his way of telling her nothing has changed. Inuyasha watches this epiphany play out on Kagome's face and his expression softens around the steadiness of his gaze.

"I will allow nothing to take you from me again, and I will never leave your side."

Shuddering in the wake of his oath, Kagome shuffles closer to him and finally says what she's always regretted never telling him directly.  

"I love you Inuyasha," She watches as his pupils drag wide at her confession, "You will always have me, and I will happily spend the rest of my life with you to prove that."

Inuyasha slowly lowers his head until their foreheads touch through the hair of their bangs, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in through his nose. Kagome feels a wave of peace come over her then that she finds she's quite content to drown in. She stays like that with him for another moment before pulling away just enough to catch his eye.

"My mother," Kagome hushes and Inuyasha instantly stills, "She asked me to give this to you."

Exactly as her mom did, Kagome extracts her hands from Inuyasha's and reaches for his face, fingers tender as they slide against the warm skin of his jaw. Panic flits across Inuyasha's features then, startled at being handled like he was something precious, and realizing he's horrifically unprepared for whatever is about to come next. Kagome's smile is nothing but fond as she tilts his head down enough so that she's able to lean in and deliver her mother's kiss to his forehead. Inuyasha's hands come up to wrap around her forearms, not to move her away but, Kagome suspects, just to have something to hold on to. His ears flatten under the gravity of the gesture. Kagome closes her eyes and remains there for another beat, before pulling away and lifting his face back up only to touch the tip of her nose to his.

"She also wanted me to tell you that she loves you," She murmurs.

Inuyasha releases a wet sounding exhale and attempts to move away -- overwhelmed by the rawness of all of this, but Kagome holds his face firm and presses on, wanting desperately for him to hear the rest because he deserves to know.

"She said she has always seen you as a son, and is proud to consider you family."

"Kagome," Inuyasha begs, his voice a wobbling mess as he nuzzles closer in defeat, unable to stand the depth of Mrs. Higurashi's gift to him.

After a long moment of them just breathing, he shifts his head and quietly slots their lips together. He releases his grip on her forearms so he can snake his arms around her middle, hands wrapping as far across her back as possible, before pulling her flush against him. Inuyasha keeps the kiss chaste -- utterly humbled. Kagome can only imagine what this must mean to him, and she hazards her mother must have known too.

They stay joined under the warm evening sky as the stars begin to shine through dusk's heavy golden canopy. The sun finally sinks all the way under the horizon, having delayed itself in order to cast as much light as possible onto the pair standing atop the hill -- presenting fate's masterful work to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind picks up around them, and it causes the two to sway a little. Hands clutching tight, lips molding softly, and hair floating around their heads as if submerged in deep water, they know nothing in that moment except each other.

Somewhere far beyond this world, a priestess -- no, an ordinary woman, looks down on Inuyasha and Kagome and smiles.

--

Kagome arranges the light summer quilt Sango lent her over the futon set in the back corner of Inuyasha's hut. She would have to do something (many somethings) in order to make this place livable. A shy glee erupts in her chest at the thought of decorating it, organizing a home for both her and Inuyasha to live in felt surreal to consider even in her own head. She used to daydream about this kind of thing, the fact that she finally gets to fulfill her fantasy -- that it's her life now, takes her breath away.

"Inuyasha?" She calls once she's finished fussing with the quilt, folding one corner down, ready to get into bed.

The hut is dark, the night outside is still, and the fireplace remains unlit so they don't overheat. Kagome tries to swallow the fear cloying up her throat. Ever since she spent a small eternity trapped in endless darkness with the Jewel of Four Souls, she finds she can no longer stand to be alone in the dark. Back in her time, it had to be either her mom, Sota, or Buyo sleeping beside her each night or she wouldn't be able to get any rest at best, and at worst she would descend into an anxiety attack. It wasn't until her grandfather had suggested installing a night light that she was finally able to brave the long nights alone, though she still prefers to have a warm body to cuddle. It was in moments like those that she'd longed for Shippo the most. Once she'd been able to sleep on her own she had the nightmares to contend with, and those always left her feeling as close to true panic as she'd felt when facing Naraku. There are no night lights in the Feudal Era, but Kagome figures she'll be okay as long as she has Inuyasha with her.

"Inuyasha?" Kagome says again, this time unable to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.

In an instant she feels a rush of air hit her as he drops to a crouch beside her, like he'd bolted to her from across the room.

"Kagome? What's wrong?"

She melts into him and he accepts her weight against his chest easily, strong arms shifting forward to box her in.

"Where were you?" Kagome hopes she doesn't sound as small as she feels.

Inuyasha stills against her for a beat before wrapping his arms around her completely, securing her in his embrace. Kagome accepts this improvement with a grateful sigh.

"Just checking the window." He pauses, then very carefully, asks, "Is...are you alright?"

He sounds worried, crap.

Kagome feels a stab of guilt for freaking him out.

"I'm fine," Kagome assures quickly, "Just, um, I-I'm ready for bed."

Cringing internally, Kagome wonders if that was convincing enough. With that sharp nose of his, she hopes he doesn't pick up on her lingering (but quickly diminishing) fear. How on earth could she convince him to sleep on the futon with her? Surely he won't object? Not after everything that happened between them today?

"Okay, well, I'll uh see you in the morning then," Inuyasha stutters as he begins to untangle himself from her and pull away --

Kagome's panic skyrockets, and before she can say or do anything, Inuyasha must smell the spike in her fear because he immediately winds himself back around her body.

"Woah hey," He hushes, becoming even more alarmed as Kagome all but crawls into his lap.

"I-I can't be alone, at night," Kagome struggles to explain as she takes shelter in his renewed embrace, "The darkness it --,"

She cuts herself off when she feels Inuyasha pillow his cheek against the soft hair at the top of her head.

"I'll hold you till you fall asleep then," He promises in a soft voice, as soft as she's ever heard him speak.

She can feel his words vibrate through his chest, and it calms her nerves some. Kagome wants to argue, wants to push for more -- sleep beside me, hold me all night -- but she doesn't. He doesn't seem to want that, even after promising her he'd never leave her side. Kagome's anxiety gets the better of her and it seals her lips shut. She settles in the circle of his arms and is resolved to be satisfied with this, at least for now, knowing she's much too shaken to negotiate with him tonight. Kagome knows without a shadow of a doubt that she'll wake up the moment he sets her down on the futon, but she doesn't tell him that. Hopefully she can fake being asleep well enough to fool his hanyou senses, and hopefully the knowledge that he's nearby will be enough to stop her from having a full blown episode. If she can hang on till the early hours of the morning, maybe the fragile rays of first light will be enough to cling to. Kagome can admit to herself that she won't be able to maintain this routine for long, but she hopes it lasts until she's plucked up the courage to ask Inuyasha, point blank and without room for misinterpretation, to share her bed.

--

Inuyasha knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, no way would he risk making Kagome vulnerable to any kind of attack so soon after getting her back. His instincts wouldn't have allowed for any other course of action, and on this front Inuyasha is in rare agreement with his youkai half. But he doesn't expect Kagome to share the same determination. He'd panicked earlier when he smelled how fast and how sharply her fear had spiked. Inuyasha vowed to himself at that moment to never allow her to feel that way in his presence again, not if he could help it. She had held on to him so fiercely, and still is even after hours of being in the safety of his arms. Its like she's afraid he'll leave again. This knowledge makes something in his chest shatter and his gut ache. Unable to stop himself, he rubs his cheek where it rests against the top of her head and takes a deep inhale, letting her scent soothe him. Each time he hears her heartbeat slow and she starts to drift off, he waits a few minutes before trying to lay her down on the futon. Without fail though she's yanked back from sleep every time, as if his touch is vital in order for her to rest. A part of him relishes in this level of dependency on him, his youkai half preening at the fact that his mate --

Inuyasha grunts and stands, unwilling to entertain any thoughts about that, and makes his way swiftly out of the hut and into the mild night. He's careful not to jostle Kagome in his arms too much as he lowers into a measured crouch, and launches himself into the air towards the roof. Landing effortlessly on the balls of his feet, Inuyasha pauses as Kagome sighs in her sleep and twists her fists tighter into the material of his han-juban. Inuyasha blushes to himself thinking about how he had all but tripped out of the hut earlier when Kagome started changing out of her day clothes and into a yukata Sango had lent her in front of him.

With a firm shake of his head he banishes that particular train of thought from his mind, and lowers himself down to sit on the angled roof. After a minute of cautious shifting, he gives up and lies flat on his back, arranging Kagome's sleep-pliant body so she's tucked snuggly between his arm and his side. He tells himself this is different than sleeping on the futon with her, that this isn't breaking any 'rules of propriety' Kagome used to always yell at him about.

Screw it, he thinks, if I get sat for this in the morning it will have been worth it.

Inuyasha tries not to think about how much he sounded like Miroku just now, and grumbles under his breath about stupid delinquent monks and confusing female sensibilities.  

The stars are a dizzying pattern above him, the moon is a sliver in the sky, and Kagome is curled safely into his side with her cheek squished against his chest while one of her leanly muscled arms has thrown itself securely across his waist -- Inuyasha couldn't feel more at peace if he tried. Everything is as it should be. He hasn't felt rightness like this since...well, since Kagome left three years ago. A cool evening breeze floats over them then, shooing away the insistent press of the summer heat, and kisses their temples before moving on. Inuyasha lazily picks apart the different scents the wind carried -- sap from the trees in the forest, ash from the chimneys in the village, wet earth from the banks of the nearby river...he lets it all wash over him, one sensation at a time. He remembers Kagome caught him doing this once years ago, and when she'd asked him about it he'd told her it was kind of like how humans count sheep when trying to fall asleep. A self-soothing exercise is what she concluded it was similar too. Inuyasha didn't elaborate that the habit was an old one he'd developed during his childhood. Back when he was too weak to fight any of the youkai that hunted him, he'd find somewhere to hide and rock himself in time with his breaths, carefully combing through the scents in the air until he was sure the threat had passed. There had been a brief pause before Kagome asked what he could smell, no judgment or disgust, just innocent curiosity and a hint of fascination simmering in the umber of her eyes. No one had ever asked him about his sense of smell like that before. Inuyasha's heart had clenched in his chest, and it does so now as the memory unfolds before him only this time without the promise of pain. Reliving cherished moments of his time with Kagome used to only bring him anguish, but now...

Inuyasha turns his face into Kagome's hairline that's level with his nose, flares his nostrils, and proceeds to take a sleepy inhale. Her scent shoots straight up into his head and a sensation that feels bizarrely like dizziness makes his skull feel light, and his mind feel like its floating. Inuyasha attempts to turn away once the moment passes, but his body refuses to comply. Instead, before he really knows what he's doing, Inuyasha finds himself nosing down her forehead, over the bridge of her nose, past her slightly parted lips, and under her jaw. Kagome mutters something unintelligible in her sleep in response to all of his tender nudging (Inuyasha resolutely ignores the way it makes all of his insides go soft), but ultimately allows her chin to be directed up, exposing her neck to him. Something in Inuyasha flares hot at the action, and he's instantly compelled to guide his nose into the notch of skin between her neck and her jaw. This is what he'd been searching for.

Safe, something inhuman in his head rumbles, only here is safe.

Inuyasha couldn't agree more, Kagome had always been ineffable to him. He had known Kagome by her scent before he'd known her by her features, it's what first caught his attention when Kikyo's spell keeping him pinned to Goshinboku started to falter. Inuyasha hadn't realized it then, but he'd belonged to Kagome the moment she'd told him her name. Inuyasha smiles like a complete love-struck idiot as he remembers the way she had puffed out her chest and demanded that he say her name right.

Ka - Go - Me!

He allows himself to continue grinning like a fool against the skin of her neck because no one's around to mock him for it, and because it feels good to be happy. He's happy --

"Inuyasha..." Kagome suddenly hums, his name on her lips the sweetest thing he'll ever hear.

Inuyasha pulls his face back just far enough to take in her expression, and something glorious surges in him when he finds that she's smiling in her sleep.

--

Phew that was hella soft lol, lemme know what you thought down in the comments below if you'd like! I embellished certain moments a little bit to make them more dramatic bc i couldn't help myself, i hope you didn't mind! Tbh it felt so good to write inukag, like im not gonna lie, I grew up watching the show and it feels a little like coming home to get into these characters' heads. Ok I'm gonna go continue my re-watch of the show now xxx

Masterlist

[bijvoorbeeldja]

hide-and-seek

Prompt for you! Younger Sander and Robbe and the guys play hide and seek, then they had a kiss. They only remember this in a few years. Please, Jealous!Sander. 

Here she is, @mysteriousforests! Thank you for the prompt! I hope you like it. <3

................. 

It was how they spent most of their weekends during summer break from school — swimming at the local pool to fend off the heat during the day, then tagging along with their parents to the Driesen’s house in the evenings, where the adults gathered to gab and let the kids play. The group was pretty much the same then as it was now — minus Aaron and Zoe, who hadn’t moved to town until the group was in high school. Back then, Robbe’s hair was longer, Jens and Jana weren’t together yet, and Sander was still a brunette. 

Now that they’d finished dinner, their parents were talking in the living room over glasses of wine, and the group knew it would be a while before they’d be dragged home to their own houses, so they invented games to fill the time. Their favorite was hide-and-seek, and in Sander’s big house, there were plenty of good hiding places. 

That night, Jens was counting, covering his eyes with both hands as he recited numbers up to 100 while the rest of them hid. Robbe took off, scouring the rooms for the tucked-away crevices of the house to hide in. 

Behind the curtains? No, too obvious. The kitchen cabinet? Someone was probably already there. He tiptoed quietly but quickly, trying to put distance between himself and Jen’s voice. As he passed doors in the hallway, he heard Amber’s hushed giggling as she positioned herself underneath a bed, and Moyo and Jana fighting over a hiding spot behind a potted plant. Robbe smiled at them, continuing on towards the end of the hall. He knew Jens was likely close to coming after them, so he needed to find a space, fast.

Then, he was being pulled sideways, a soft hand clutching his elbow to rein him in. Suddenly, he was in the upstairs coat closet, bundles of jackets settling on top of his head as he ducked and stumbled into the space next to another someone.

“Shhh,” motioning a finger to his lips, Sander was crouched there, so close that Robbe could smell him. 

“This is the best hiding spot in the house,” Sander whispered, his breath tickling Robbe’s cheeks. “I didn’t want you to get caught.” 

Robbe was trying to catch his breath, calm his racing heart at the unexpected touch and sudden closeness. For a moment, Sander still held his arm in his grasp. It was a soft, warm touch that made Robbe’s breath shallow.

Even though they’d been friends since their infancy, being with Sander had always made Robbe feel a little unnerved, for reasons he didn’t fully understand. Sander was two years older, vastly cooler and funnier than Robbe ever could be. Confident. Creative. Handsome.

Robbe would never admit it, but he’d always tried to tame his own messy tresses into submission when he got ready in the morning, an attempt to look at least a little like the cool, older boy. He often caught himself staring at the Sander when he wasn’t looking. But he couldn’t let himself think about Sander. It wasn’t what he was supposed to do. Just as Moyo and Jens were already starting to notice girls at their school, Robbe was supposed to, too. 

Crouching closely together, Robbe listened to Sander’s steady breathing, forcing down the wave of nervous flutters in his stomach. He was sure Sander could hear how loudly his heart was beating. But luckily, that was muffled by the sound of Jen’s heavy footsteps, reaching the stop of the stairs. 

“Here I come!” He yelled out. “I am going to find you all so fast!”

Sander scooted backwards, farther into the closet, pulling Robbe with him. He chuckled softly, the sound barely audible as he tangled himself further behind a layer of coats and scarves on hangers. He gently pulled one aside, uncovering his face as he turned his head slightly to look over at Robbe. 

Robbe smiled, barely noticing Jen’s voice calling out down the hall, muffled by the fabric in front of him. He bit his lip, not wanting to be found, to have a few more stolen moments here, hidden with Sander.

A slight blush crept to Robbe’s cheeks as Sander continued to stare at him, his gaze unwavering. Only a small filter of light trickled in underneath the door, but Robbe could still seen the bright green of Sander’s eyes, nearly staring through him. He watched Sander’s eyes flick almost imperceptibly across his face, stopping for only a half-second on his lips. 

Then, almost in slow motion, Sander was leaning in, his breath mixing with Robbe’s as he gently placed his lips on Robbe’s. Robbe felt Sander’s hand gently lift to grasp onto Robbe’s wrist before sliding down to his hand, two fingers tangling with his as he held them softly. Robbe’s heart stopped, his brain unable to form a coherent thought. 

For a second, they remained there, lips touching. Then, there were loud footsteps outside the door, dangerously close, and Sander pulled away suddenly. Robbe was frozen, trying to process. He felt unable to breath.

Then suddenly, flooded flooded their faces as they blinked back the brightness.

“Aha!” Jens yelled, whipping the door open. “Found you two!

…………

Five years had passed, and the group dynamics had changed.

Jens and Jana had just begun dating, a natural extension of the relationship of the group. They just worked together. Robbe had finally cut his hair, a “birthday present” for Jens. Sander they hadn’t seen regularly for a year or so. He’d transferred to an art school and showed up off-and-on at their group gatherings, most recently appearing at Moyo’s house party with a head of bleached blonde hair and a leather jacket. The boys had playfully teased him, mocking his new artsy persona, but Robbe knew it was because they were all secretly jealous. He was attracting girls left and right. 

But now, they saw him less and less, as he naturally fell in with the social circles from his new school. It made Robbe weirdly disappointed, and not just because their group had changed over the years. He missed seeing Sander. He missed his silly jokes, his Bowie shirts, the croques he made for the two of them at midnight, those nights they slept over at Jens and everyone else was asleep before them. His missed sitting on the counter, watching Sander flip the sandwiches, deep in a passioned conversation about the street art he loved around Antwerp. Robbe loved hearing him talk. He swore he could listen to him forever.

Occasionally, Sander would call Robbe out of the blue, asking how he was, catching up on the missed time between them. Robbe waited for these calls desperately, eager to hear his voice, his laugh, to hear him insist that Robbe was in fact, not yet ready for the Advanced Bowie playlist. 

But those calls were infrequent now and it left a humiliating ache inside of Robbe that he tried to ignore. He carried on with Jens and Moyo, the self-proclaimed Broerrs. 

Near the end of that summer, the group had gathered, surprising Robbe with a birthday party at the beach house. A frequent haunt for the group of friends, they spent the days playing paintball among the dunes and deepening their tans. At night, they had bonfires and talked long into the night about their futures. They never wanted those nights to end. 

Now, older, they returned to the beach, celebrating their last days before the new school year. A bonfire swelled on the sand and Jens and Jana sat close, feeding each other marshmallows. Robbe and Moyo talked, laughing about their earlier soccer game. Suddenly, Jens called out, mumbling with a mouth still full of marshmallow.

“There you are, man! I wasn’t sure you were coming!”

Robbe turned and saw Sander, illuminated by the light of the fire, coming towards them with a smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” Sander replied. “There was a holdup at home. But I wasn’t going to miss Robbe’s big celebration!”

Reaching him, Sander slapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, making warmth flood to his cheeks. Learning down, he whispered with featherlight breath in Robbe’s ear. 

 “It’s good to see you, Robbe.”

Robbe nodded and smiled back at him, quickly lifting the bottle of his drink to his lips to distract himself from being exposed by a further blush. Seeing Sander again after all this time made his stomach twist, an electricity flooding his every nerve. He hated how the blonde boy held such power over him.

Sander joined them, claiming the chair next to Robbe. He lifted his hands to the fire, turning them slightly to warm them. It had been months since he’d seen Sander in person, and within that short time, he could notice visible changes in Sander. He was taller somehow, his height extending the lean, taut stretch of muscle along his arms and legs. A deeper summer tan blanketed his skin. Dark color played at his roots, and the messy tresses of his hair glowed white in the fire. It was at this moment that Sander looked up at Robbe, as if he could read his thoughts. Swallowing in embarrassment, Robbe looked down immediately, busying himself again with his bottle. 

“How’s your fancy art school, Sander?” Moyo asked, talking across Robbe.

Sander laughed. “It’s all good, man. You should consider it. You know what they say about art chicks.” 

“Ahhh, yeah,” Moyo said, nodding. “I like those alternative chicks, man. Does your school have a take-your-friend-to-school day?”  

Sander laughed again, but Robbe just felt sick. Thinking of Sander together with an equally good-looking girl at his school made him physically ill. 

“That’s bold of you, Moyo,” Jens spoke across the bonfire, taking another bite from the marshmallow in Jana’s outstretched hand. “To even think one of those girls would be into you.”

“Shut up, man,” Moyo said, waving him off. “I’ve been getting girls since middle school. Way before you. No offense, Jana.”

Jana just laughed, nodding. “He’s not wrong,” she said to Jens, teasingly. “You’re lucky you even got me.”

Jens nipped at her cheek, then her neck, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“Let’s be honest, though,” Jens said. “Sander was the only one of us who had game in middle school.” 

“Oh, stop,” Sander said, waving off embers from the air around him. “I was scared of girls. I still am!” He laughed. “Plus, you guys know I only hung out with you in those days. I always looked forward to those weekends at my place.” 

“Dude, yes!” Moyo said, slapping a knee. “Those were the days. Playing games way past our bedtimes, sneaking sweets from your ginormous kitchen, watching our parents get so drunk that by the end of the night they were singing karaoke.”

Robbe laughed at this, memories suddenly coming back to him. He really had missed those moments, nights when things were so much easier, so much less complicated than now. 

“I’ll never ever forget my mom’s rendition of ‘Jij Bent Van Mij,’” Jana said, groaning. She shook her head, as if trying to mentally erase the memory. 

“Dude!” Jens said, sitting up now. “Do you remember those epic games of hide and seek we used to play? “

“Oh, yeah!” Sander said, nodding as his mouth widened in a smile. “I forgot about that!”

“If I remember correctly, I was the best at finding you losers,” Jens said cockily. 

“Oh, please,” Sander said, rolling his eyes. “Robbe and I always found the best hiding spot and kept you guys looking for hours.”

The memories that had faded by time were now coloring in Robbe’s mind, forming concrete edges and fully-fleshed sequences.

Hiding with Sander, a small space. Jens heavy footsteps in the hallway. Surrounded by fabric. Coats. Then...in a warm, heart-stopping flash, it came back to him. 

The kiss.

That one night, Robbe and Sander had kissed.

Trying to level his now labored breath, Robbe strained to remember. They had kissed. They had been young. And so close, close enough that Sander in a breath could lean over and touch his lips to Robbe’s. It had lasted only a second, half a second. But the memory burned into him like it had just happened. How had Robbe forgotten?

Or had Robbe manufactured that memory in his mind? 

“Well, I’m calling it a night,” Moyo said, suddenly standing beside them. “I have to grab the double bed before Jens and Jana try to claim it and keep us up all night.” He laughed as Jens glared at him, hastily picking Jana up off his lap and grabbing her hand to sprint after Moyo. With laughter and yells, they were gone.

Now, deep waves of nerve were swelling within Robbe as he sat alone with Sander, the crackling of the bonfire filling the silence. 

Robbe twisted the bottle in his hands, trying to grasp at a word, any words to say to Sander, who was smiling to himself. 

Then, he turned to Robbe, pulling himself closer so that his knee was touching Robbe’s. Robbe looked up at him, watching Sander’s green eyes meet his.

“You’re not going to bed yet, right?” he asked with a smile. “I still need to give you your birthday present.”

Robbe could only shake his head, his throat dry. Sander stared back at the fire, still smiling. 

“Want to take a walk?” he said, leaning in closer now. “I heard sea air prevents hangovers,” he laughed as he cocked a head at Robbe’s now-empty bottle. 

Robbe laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I could use some non-smoky air.” Leaving his bottle on the ground next to his chair, he stood and followed Sander as he headed toward the sound of the waves.

…

Hearing Sander ramble on again was like water to Robbe’s thirsty soul. He never wanted him to stop. 

But at the same time, he had to speak. If he didn’t ask, he thought he would explode. So when Sander paused, taking in the waves, he cleared his throat.

“So, uh,” Robbe said, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. “Remember when we were talking with the other guys about those nights at your house?”

“Yeah,” Sander said, turning back to him and nodding. “What about it?”

“Well, about hide-and-seek...do you remember actually playing? With everyone?”

Sander smiled, but his voice was serious. “Yeah. I always looked forward to it. You guys were my first real friends in Antwerp.”

“Those were some of my favorite nights,” Robbe admitted, remembering. “And I guess...I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Sander said. “What?” 

Robbe already regretted mentioning anything. This conversation could only end in humiliation, and Sander would likely never talk to him again. 

But Sander was looking at him, waiting with a clear sense of eagerness, almost appearing to read Robbe’s mind. 

“I just…” Robbe hesitated. He felt so stupid.

Sander stopped now, grabbing Robbe’s arm. “What, Robbe? You can ask me anything”

Robbe took a deep breath, trying to meet Sander’s gaze. He felt his hands shaking slightly.

“Well, I was just wondering if you remember...us hiding together. In that coat closet in your upstairs hall?”

Sander looked down, his mouth widening in a shy smile.

“A coat closet,” he said quietly. “Yeah, yeah, I think I do remember that. Why?”

“Did you...did we…” Robbe struggled, trying to speak with a level voice.

“Kiss?” Sander said suddenly, looking up at Robbe. He was biting his lip, hiding a smile.

“Yeah,” said Robbe, exhaling in relief now that it was spoken out loud, settling in the space between them. “When we were talking, I had this suddenly clear memory of that moment...and I was just wondering...if I had imagined it.”

“For so long after that moment I thought it was a dream,” Sander said, laughing. “Especially since I was too much of a scaredy-cat to bring it up to you again. I don’t even know how I had the guts to do it in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Robbe asked.

“Seriously, Robbe?” Sander said, eyes widening as he laughed. “You had to know that I had the biggest crush on you back then?”

Robbe’s stomach dropped, attempting to configure Sander’s words in his mind in a way that made sense.

“Well, clearly by the look on your face,” Sander said, smiling again, “you had no idea. Which is actually hilarious because I was not subtle about it.”

“You’re joking, Sander…” Robbe said, finally able to speak.

Sander turned his whole body to Robbe, face serious now. In a gentleness that didn’t match his firm stare, he spoke. 

“I always liked you Robbe,” Sander said. “It wasn’t long after we came out of that closet that I...came out of the closet.” He smiled briefly at his joke before continuing. 

Robbe could barely keep his jaw from dropping. Even if he hadn’t imagined their adolescent kiss, he was sure he had to be imagining this now.

“Yeah, I was obviously scared you didn’t reciprocate my feelings, so I didn’t dare to bring it up. Even when I thought you might….like me back….you were so close with Jens that it made me insanely jealous. I knew he was your best friend and I figured before long you two would realize your feelings for each other. I couldn’t stand it.” Sander smiled weakly to himself, kicking some sand at his feet. Robbe could’ve sworn there was a light blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I’ve always wanted you, Robbe.”

Robbe couldn’t speak and it was a moment before Sander spoke up again, suddenly grabbing his arm.

“But hey, look,” he said, firmly now. “Please don’t think you have to say anything. Honestly, we have to bring this up again. You’ll always be my friend no matter what. And I hate...that we haven’t been able to spend time together lately. ….Hopefully now you still want to!” He laughed, but there was a strain in his voice. A nervousness. Vulnerability. 

Robbe just looked at him.

“Robbe,” Sander said again. “Damnit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m so stupid. Please just forget it.”

He turned to start walking back up the beach, but Robbe grabbed his arm before he could escape the closeness.

“I don’t want to forget it, Sander,” he said, his voice only capable of a near-whisper. 

“What?” Sander said, turning back to him and closing the distance. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Robbe said, louder now, “that I don’t want to forget it. Our kiss...or this conversation.”

Taking a deep breath, he pulled Sander closer, intertwining their fingers together. Sander’s eyebrows rose, but only for a second before he squeezed his palm to Robbe’s. 

“Do you know how long I’ve liked you Sander?” Robbe said, hoping he could finsh before his nerves gave out. “I’ll tell you it was long before that closet.”

Sander laughed, his eyes looking wide and misty as Robbe stared deep into them. “Are you messing me, Robin?”

“Oh,” Robbe groaned, extracting his hands from Sander’s to cover his face in embarrassment. “Only you call me that and I wish you wouldn’t.” 

He felt Sander’s breath against his hands as Sander gently pulled his hands away and replaced the touch with his palms cupped against his cheeks. 

“You’re my Robin,” Sander whispered, ever closer now. “Should we go find another closet, or…?” 

“I’m not going back into the closet,” Robbe said, laughing. “But I will take that kiss, if you’re offering. You know, as a second birthday gift. I mean, I haven’t forgotten that you still owe me a real one.”

“Oh, I’m definitely offering a kiss,” Sander said, laughing. “I’m offering on your birthday. And the day after your birthday, and the day after that.” Then, Sander was kissing him.��

And even if that first kiss had been a dream, Robbe couldn’t have dreamt a kiss as good as this one. Lips and breath fitting together, Sander pulled Robbe closer, tangling his hands into his hair, losing himself completely in him.

“Aaaaand the day after that,” Sander said, following his words with another kiss before pulling away. 

“And the day after that.” Robbe’s eyes fluttered, whining at Sander’s teasing. “That okay with you, Robin?”

“That’s okay with me.” He smiled into Sander’s next kiss. 

Better than a dream.

[binbons-character-stuff]

Hell Hath No Fury

My contribution to @daffodilsbucky‘s 1k Follower Challenge! Congratulations!!!

My trope was #12 Body Swap.

Dinah Madani was a woman scorned. 

There was more to it, of course. Her career was in ruins. She was a laughingstock among her former co-workers and bosses. Her parents had stood by her publicly, of course, but she saw them, sometimes. They would just look at her, wondering where they had gone wrong with their child. 

Her life was a joke – she was a joke. And it was all because of one man. 

Billy Russo.

Dinah Madani never looked in the mirror and saw a woman who compromised her own values, used herself and Billy Russo sexually to find out information about Frank Castle and Cerberus. She didn’t see someone who played fast and loose with the law; she saw a victim. She saw a woman who had been dishonored, a woman who had been played for a fool. 

A woman who needed revenge.

And she didn’t want revenge from Frank Castle, the man who had pulled the trigger on her partner in Kandahar, or his boss, the man who had actually given the order to murder Zubair. She didn’t want revenge on her boss or her boss’s boss that gave Russo and Castle sweetheart deals for helping to take Rawlins down. Hell, she didn’t even blame David Leiberman for sending her the video in the first place. She blamed Billy Russo, because he had realized her game and beat her at it; because he had been able to compartmentalize dealing with Madani after he found out that she had been using him to get to Frank. 

Because he had been able to find love with someone else, when Madani herself had loved him: at least her version of love. More like want, really, but still, Madani owed him. So, yeah, Billy and you were the object of her sick fascination and utter hatred.

It was Billy Russo who needed to pay. And, if things went as she hoped, pay he would, and you right along with him.

Madame Gao had been hard to find, but Madani was determined. When she had found her, Gao had been indifferent to her. Russo and Castle were troublesome but nothing that her Hand members couldn’t handle. 

In the end, Madani had pledged herself to the Hand for Madame Gao’s help in getting revenge on Billy. And, in order to be completely certain of Madani’s loyalty, Gao had placed a geas on Dinah. She was now magically bonded to Madame Gao until her death or release.

It was a small price to pay to make Russo’s life a living hell before she finally ended it. 

This was going to be fun.

“Honey, I’m home!” Billy called when he stepped into your shared apartment and laid his keys in the bowl that was kept there for general pocket clutter. 

“In the kitchen,” you called out, though he had already figured that out from the delicious aromas and the music playing.

Billy tossed his suit jacket over a dining chair and strolled into the kitchen, loosening his tie as he entered his favorite room of your shared home. 

Leaning his chin on your shoulder as he snuggled up behind you, Billy pulled you close and kisses your neck a bunch of times until you giggled and turned to kiss him properly, knowing that he would continue to harass you delightfully until he got a proper smooch.

“How was your day, love?” you said after a sweet kiss.

“Not too shabby. Better now that I’m with you,” he said warmly.

You looked into his deep brown eyes and marveled that you had ever doubted this man’s feelings for you. “I love you so much, Russo,” you said sincerely. 

Billy kissed your nose with his special crinkly-eyed smile. “I love you, too,” he replied. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Just some quick sausage and peppers with pasta. Wanna set the table while I put the garlic bread in the oven?”

“Sure,” he answered, stealing one more kiss before he went to grab dishes and flatware.

Billy was still getting used to having a woman in his space; you were worth it and he would lie down in a puddle so you wouldn’t get your feet wet, but there was still a lot to get used to, y'know?

This was a man who never lived alone his entire life, going from foster homes to group homes to the Marines. When he finally got out and started his business, he got his first place alone – and he fucking loved it. He didn’t have to worry about his shit getting moved, busted or stolen. Hell, he didn’t even have to deal with Frankie stealing his toothpaste. In a burst of excessive hubris, he had gotten all of the things that he thought would show people how far he’d come in life from the foster kid whose junkie mother safe-havened him at a fire station.

When Bastion Security took off and made it through the government oversight after he and Frank and Curtis had done the CIA’s dirty work and took out Rawlins, he was able to grow the business honestly, not having to worry about Black ops that were too dirty for Feds. His jobs were aboveboard and his money was clean.

Clean money meant less money, though, so the penthouse had been traded for a normal apartment, his closets filled with nice but not bespoke suits and his parking space with the Wraith was now occupied with a Land Rover. After life settled into routine, after all the testifying before the Senate, after he paid back the dirty money he used to start Anvil, well, he realized that while it was nice to have his own space and things, they didn’t have to be the most expensive just for the sake of having the highest price tag. 

And now that he didn’t have to maintain strictest privacy at all times lest his not-so-squeaky-clean business practices came to light, he didn’t necessarily love being alone all the time.

You and he were the last of your friends who were still single; Karen and Frank were together, Foggy and Marci were engaged, Curtis had started dating a girl he’d met at the gym and Matt was getting serious with a social worker he’d met on a case where he’d been guardian ad litem for a boy who had lost his parents.

So, after the first few times that you and Billy were the only ones to show up for a group outing, or were the last ones left after everyone went on with their couples plans, you decided you may as well hang out with each other. One thing had led to another, you’d asked him to be your plus one for a work thing, he’d asked you to go with him to a mix and mingle thing so he wouldn’t threaten husbands. You never expected anything, of course; Billy was famously single and you certainly didn’t think you’d be the one to change that.

But you were. Billy finally quit pretending he needed you to accompany him as a friend and told you he wanted more. 

“What?” you asked with a nervous chuckle. “Is this a joke?”

Billy looked offended. “No,” he said stiffly. “It was not intended as such.”

“I mean, you’re famously unfunny, Russo. You sure?” you said, giving him an out.

Suddenly Billy was feeling more vulnerable than he had as a kid. He decided to go for bravado. With a half-smile, he said, “Yeah, that’s a pretty stupid idea, huh? I just thought that y'know since we been spending so much time together –”

“Bill!” you interrupted. 

“What?” he growled, cheeks a bit flushed with embarrassment.

You smiled and stepped closer, tentatively putting your hands on his shoulders. Looking into his eyes, you whispered, “It’s a great idea, Billy.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and put his hands on your hips, pulling you a bit closer and leaning in to drop a gentle kiss on your lips. 

Your eyelids fluttered open and you smiled happily. “Best idea ever.”

Frank and Curtis had known Billy for a lot longer than any of his other friends, and neither of them could get over the change in him. Outwardly, Billy told them to screw off, he had always been the same guy, but inside – well, inside, Billy knew that he was different. You had seen the person who had always worried that he wasn’t worth anything deeper than his looks. 

But you looked past his exterior, past his sins and loved the man that he had never before had the courage to be. You became his friend after he lost the money and the car and suits, and you never seemed all that impressed with his looks. Oh, you thought he was gorgeous; you weren’t blind. But that wasn’t enough for you. You’d needed to get to know the real William Russo, not the image he showed the world. Only then did you fall for him.

There was a freedom that accompanied someone knowing the real Billy. He had never known true acceptance before, had never understood that concept because no one had ever wanted what was beneath the facade he showed the world. When he was a Marine, he was the best goddamn sniper there was. When he was a businessman, he was the best bullshit artist and salesman he could be. When he was with a woman, he was the best lover he could be, leaving every partner exhausted and satisfied.

But he had never really allowed anyone to see the man he was before. Only you understood the little boy who had been abandoned that still lived inside Billy, and only you had ever been able to make him understand that it had not been his failing, that his mother had been an addict and unable to care for him. 

For the first time, Billy thought that maybe there could be more to his life than resentment and anger; you gave him love and acceptance.

Madani had gathered all of the necessary components for the spell and it was time. She had been very careful not to let Billy see her as she tailed him, learning his and your routines by heart. She had spy training, after all – even someone trained as Billy had been unprepared for the Killing Eve disguises and infiltration shit Madani was pulling. Madame Gao had also loaned her some manpower, so there wasn’t always a small woman around, regardless of her hair color or clothing.

Madame Gao herself was going to perform the spell. Later, Madani would apprentice in spellcraft, but for now she would simply be the subject of the spell.

It had been so easy to get close to you to get something personal to use for the spell component. You were truly and completely a civilian, a trusting fool. What did Russo even see in you?

Madani was currently bound to a sturdy chair, arms and legs lashed down securely. She couldn’t get out of it herself, she had no doubt that it would hold a weakling like you. 

Madame Gao began chanting and threw a lit match into a bowl, fragrant smoke surrounding Madani, clouding her vision and making her dizzy. As her eyes fluttered closed, she felt herself drifting away…

You were having the strangest dream. The sounds and smells were completely foreign to you. There was a strange voice chanting and it was as if you were drunk or high. You muttered in your sleep, and the feel of Billy’s heart beating against your cheek was growing fainter, as if you were being pulled away from his embrace. 

Suddenly, you gasped as your eyes opened to a strange room where an elderly Asian woman was looking you over with a matter-of-fact expression on her wrinkled face. 

“You do not seem worthy of such hatred as my apprentice holds for you,” she said disdainfully.

You were still woozy and completely confused. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“I think the more important question for you is, ‘Who are you?’” she replied, gesturing across from you.

You looked in the direction and saw a woman bound to a chair. Disturbing, but you couldn’t see how it pertained to you. You turned to look at the woman and saw the woman across from you mirror your move. You looked back and so did she – you began to make faces and she mimicked each one. Finally your brain caught up with the evidence before you and you looked down, finding your hands bound to a chair – but they were not your hands!

“What – what the hell is going on?” you asked, panicking and pulling against your bonds. “What is happening to me? BILLY!!”

“You may continue to scream if that is your wish, but there is no one to come to your aid. Ms. Madani was very careful in her planning. Your Mr. Russo should be waking up next to her any time now.”

“Madani? That crazy bitch who tried to kill Billy?” you asked, real fear in your eyes as you looked into the mirror more closely. The hair was short and blond now, but the eyes and face, the beauty mark – you were indeed trapped in the body of Dinah Madani.

And your love was snuggled in bed with a woman who blamed him for every bad thing that had ever happened to her – and had been trained to kill.

Billy woke abruptly, the feel of fingernails digging into his skin jolting him from sleep. He jumped from the bed in fight-mode but saw no threat. “Babe?” he said, half asleep and confused. You usually woke him up sweetly, knowing that he had PTSD from growing up in foster care and serving in the Middle East – startling Billy awake was not a great idea.

“Hey,” Madani purred, “no talking, just make me feel good.”

Billy was wide awake at that, skin almost crawling as he jumped out of bed and away from the hands trying to get inside the boxer briefs he had worn to sleep. “Ah, sorry, no can do,” he said, backing away from what certainly looked like the woman he loved. “Got an early meeting.”

“Ugh,” she practically sneered at Billy. “Fine, Russo. Go to work – as usual.”

Billy visibly flinched and said, “Ah, gonna hit the shower.”

Madani realized that maybe, just maybe she had come on a bit strong. She hadn’t really put any thought into how you and Billy were when you were alone together, and surprisingly, you spent most of your off time alone in your shared apartment. No, she only thought about getting revenge. But Billy had definitely been confused, and though she knew she was smarter and he couldn’t possibly expect this, he wasn’t a stupid man. 

She would have to be softer. It just hadn’t occurred to her that Billy Russo would want to be with a rag doll, she assumed that he would be with a woman more…well, more like Madani. She had been his type once, but it seemed that these days he liked his tail with a side of submission. 

Billy was in the shower quietly freaking out. You were behaving strangely; it was like you were a different person entirely. 

Get ahold of yourself, Russo, he berated himself. So your girl woke up horny and tried to jump you? Most guys would be grateful, and it isn’t like you never woke her up for sex! 

Billy shook his head and hurried through his shower. He had no idea what you saw in him, but you were so tender-hearted that you were probably some combination of hurt and embarrassed because he’d run off like a blushing virgin.

Billy came back to the bedroom wrapped in a towel, an apology loaded for his weird exit, but you weren’t there. He perked his ear in the direction of the kitchen and heard you opening cabinets and shrugged. Morning weirdness aside, he really did have an early meeting.

He got dressed and came out to the dining room to find you drinking coffee. He bent over to drop a kiss on your cheek. “Gotta go,” he said. “See you at 7 for Karen’s thing, right?”

“Oh, right!” Madani exclaimed. “You’re picking me up, right?”

“No,” Billy drawled slowly. “We’re meeting at Kashkaval Garden. Remember?”

Madani made a 'silly me’ face and said, “Right, of course! Absolutely.”

“Great,” Billy replied a bit suspiciously. “You OK?”

“I’m fine,” Madani replied. “Weird dreams, feel like I could sleep some more. Better hit the coffee!”

“K,” Billy agreed reluctantly, then sent you the special smile that he deserved for you. “Love you, babe.”

Madani felt her stomach churn. Really? He loved this little Mary Sue? “Back atcha,” she said with a tense smile.

Billy’s eyebrows went up slightly, but then he smiled and said, “See ya tonight.”

“Yup.”

Billy closed the door behind him, actually shaking. You had never failed to tell him to have a great day when he left for work. He’d been called out of bed in the middle of the night and you’d told him to have a great day in your sleep! And, 'Back atcha’ when he’d said he loved you?

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

Madani knew that Billy had been weirded out by her behavior, though she wasn’t sure what precisely she did wrong. He’d liked her well enough when they had been together, how much different could you be? Yes, you were a pediatrician, so you obviously liked children, whereas Madani wanted nothing to do with any ankle biters, even if they were family. Maybe he found something in you that he had missed out on being raised in the foster system? That made sense; it wasn’t you, but what you represented.

What possible other reason could there be for him to be with Madani’s polar opposite?

Billy had been distracted all day. From the first minute of the 7 a.m. meeting where David and Curtis had gone over the company’s quarterly financials and the prospects for the upcoming months, he’d been somewhere else. 

“Billy!” Curtis said loudly, knocking on the table in the conference room. “This is where you talk.”

“Shit, sorry, guys. Weird morning,” he apologized. “Ah, we have eight ongoing personal security jobs stateside and I’ve been trying to get us contracts for overseas security, too. If any of that starts looking positive, we’re going to need to hire and train more ground crew. And we could actually use some tech crew now, Micro.”

“That’s…wow,” David Leiberman exclaimed. “I’ll put out some feelers. This is great news, guys!”

“Yeah,” Billy said with a surprised chuckle. “Y'know, I think we might just make a go of this thing.”

Frank slapped the tabletop and said, “Damn straight!” he agreed heartily. “Drinks are on me tonight.”

“It’s your girlfriend’s party, weren’t they already?” Curt heckled Frank.

“Yeah, ya cheap bastard!” David joined in as Billy chuckled at their ribbing of their friend.

“Eh, shut it!” Frank clapped back happily. “Bastion Security Incorporated is here to stay!”

Billy was planning to talk to Frank about your strange behavior, but he didn’t want to bring down the vibe of the partners after the meeting, and he had a lot of work to do around three meetings and two conference calls. I’m probably overreacting, anyways, he reassured himself. Just a weird morning.

Still, the feeling that something was wrong nagged at him all day. To top it off, he had texted you several times and you hadn’t answered him once. You always answered him, even if it was just a few words to say you were busy and you loved him.

He was utterly disgusted with himself for feeling like a clingy teenager, but damn, you were the best part of his life. What if you really had been keeping from him resentment over how much he worked? You always said you understood, even when he had been completely honest about all the stupid, awful things he had done. He was utterly overwhelmed with the grace and forgiveness his found family had blessed him with, but they had already been friends. For them it was a continuance of a relationship and therefore they found good in him to outweigh the bad that he had done. 

With you, he had been honest early on; he needed to know that you could bear to look at him with his sins laid bare, because he knew almost from the beginning that you were special. The fact that you loved him knowing what he had done never ceased to amaze him – and he didn’t think he could make it without that love. Your love had changed him, made him able to return love. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t the most important person to him.

Christ, I feel like a twelve year old girl, he thought to himself disgustedly. 

He picked up his phone and looked again. Still no texts.

Billy sighed and tried to focus on the resumes in front of him. They needed to hire new employees whether or not his love life was making him weepy.

Billy had arrived a few minutes early, but the hostess said the Garden Room was ready and led him back. Frank and Karen greeted him warmly, Billy congratulating Karen on her book deal. As if being a partner in Nelson, Murdock & Page wasn’t enough to keep her busy, she had submitted a manuscript for a mystery novel to a publishing house and had been offered a contract.

“Promise me you’ll only describe a character based on me as 'devastatingly handsome’,” Billy demanded playfully.

“How about, 'chronic bedwetter’,” Frank suggested.

“Or 'high-maintenance mirror hog’?” Curtis chimed in.

“'Technologically challenged!’” David piped up, loathe to be left out and giving the worst playful insult he could think of.

“Or 'terrible, inattentive boyfriend?’” he heard your voice add in the midst of laughing off his buddies’ roasting.

His eyes went wide and he spun around, and yeah, you looked pissed. “Hey, babe,” he said carefully, leaning over to kiss your cheek, which you accepted stiffly.

“I’ve been sitting out front waiting for a while, babe,” Madani said with saccharine sweetness and a big smile. “If Sarah hadn’t grabbed me on the way in, I’d still be waiting.”

“I mean, I thought you’d come on back,” Billy said quietly, smiling thinly, aware that all of your friends were watching. “Not like this is the first time we’ve used this room for our group.”

Madani looked around and saw the questioning looks pointed her way and let it go. “Of course. Long day,” she said, hopefully placatingly.

“Did you bring the gift?” Billy whispered as people began to mingle again.

“Gift?” Madani replied absently.

Billy’s eyebrows beetled his brows and he frowned as he said, “Are you kidding me? I said that we didn’t need a gift and you spent hours picking things out and paid extra for fast shipping!”

Just as Madani opened her mouth to snap back, Matt said, “Billy, got a minute?”

Billy closed his eyes briefly before smiling and turning to face the group. “Sup, Matt?" 

"I heard you were hiring and I have a friend who might be a good fit.”

“You have friends who aren’t here?” Billy said with feigned amazement in his voice.

“Ha ha.” Matt held out his hand and said, “Come over here so we don’t bore everyone?”

Billy was surprised but said, “OK,” and put his arm under Matt’s hand and walked over to the far side of the room.

Matt smiled and said quietly, “Who the hell is that?”

Madani watched Billy lead Matt over to the other side of the room. She had been worried when Matt had asked Billy to talk, but then Billy had served him up snark like he did to the other guys so she figured it must really be normal.

She really was making him suspicious, though. She wasn’t going to be able to drag this out and enjoy torturing him, as much as it pained her to admit it. She had put so much thought into the method of her revenge that she didn’t research the means.

She smiled and joined the crowd, hanging back to learn the names of the people she didn’t know. She regretted letting her obsession with revenge cloud her judgment and keep her from doing better background. 

You were actually being treated fairly well. Aside from some self-defense moves that Billy had insisted upon teaching you, you were absolutely not a threat. You were more of a throw-your-handbag-then-run-away-yelling, “Street Smarts” than a hand-gesture-like-Neo-while-screaming, “Come Get A Taste” kinda girl.

The elderly Chinese woman had dismissed you to the care of a group of guards with a full-on bad guy monologue. “The rest of your life does not promise to be pleasant, but it is up to you how you will be treated while you are my guest. Obey my simple rules and you will have the freedom of this room, you will be allowed to watch television and have access to bathing facilities. Your meals will be brought to you and if you are a well-behaved guest, you will be treated as such.

"However, if you get any ideas about escaping, then of course you will be returned to this chair and these bindings. Tell me, child, have you a preference?”

“I will behave until Billy comes for me,” you said, chin raised proudly. “You’re right, I am absolutely no threat, but Billy…he allows himself to care for very few people. You have the misfortune to be holding one of them as an honored but unwilling guest. Let’s hope the insane obsession of an off-balance woman scorned is worth the trouble it will bring to your door.”

Madame Gao smiled condescendingly. “I think we will be able to manage a few toy soldiers, child. Do not worry about my health when yours is in so much more peril.”

Billy smiled tensely at Matt. “What the hell do you mean, man?”

“I mean,” Matt bit out, “that woman may physically be your girlfriend, but somehow, that’s not who is currently inside her.”

Billy was dumbfounded. He knew of Matt’s alter ego and therefore understood that Matt had talents and powers far beyond his experience, but for there to be a completely different person inside your body? The same body, incidentally, that he had been inside on countless occasions?

“Matt,” Billy bit out a moment later, “man, I can’t wrap my head around this. You saying there are two people inside her?”

“No, Billy,” Matt replied ominously. “She’s completely gone.”

Madani figured she should stop staring holes into the back of Billy’s head and mingle a bit. She’d met Karen and Sarah before, albeit in a rather interrogate-y way, but still – she figured she could handle small talk with them.

Madani walked over to the edge of the group of friends and edged in until she was next to Karen. 

Karen turned to her a bit and gave her a one-armed hug. “So glad you got here! Boys are so dumb, right?”

“Tell me about it!” Madani replied with an exasperated smile. “I feel like such a dunce, I left your present at home!”

Karen waved her concern away. “You don’t need to get me a present, silly! I just want to celebrate with all my friends.”

“Still,” Madani said ruefully, “happy birthday!”

And there was silence. And it was not good.

Frank cleared his throat. “Ah, we’re celebrating Karen’s book deal, kiddo! Did you pre-game some white wine before you got here?” he joked.

Madani was mortified. 

Karen laughed. “Oh, you goofball!” she announced. “This is an old joke, like Frosty the Snowman, we say 'Happy Birthday’ for everything!" 

Billy and Matt had returned to the group in time to hear Karen blatantly lie to help fake-you save face. 

William Russo had seen a lot of things. He’d been to war, he’d killed men, he’d seen his friends die – hell, he’d almost had his own ticket punched more than a few times. But he had never, never experienced a horror so visceral before in his life.

You had never had an enemy in your life. Hell, when he’d first met you he’d been suspicious as hell, not believing anyone could be so goddamn nice. But the more he got to know you, the more he realized you were simply a caring, kind individual.

And you would have to have one hell of a case of amnesia to forget one of your dearest friend’s birthday. 

"Karen, I am so sorry, but I just got word that I have to go into work,” Billy said regretfully. “And I really hate to say it, but I need my team.”

Frank, David and Curtis all groaned at that announcement, but they knew that Billy wouldn’t disrupt something like this for no reason.

“I’m really sorry, Karen” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

Karen hugged him back, whispering, "What is going on?”

“Dunno,” Billy whispered back, knowing she was talking about you. “Gotta find out.”

Billy needed confirmation before he left. He walked over to fake-you and said, “Sorry, lovebug,” knowing that you absolutely loathed that particular term of endearment. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, feeling the anger rolling off fake-you in waves. “Can you get home OK?”

Madani almost snapped at him, but judging by the nauseating nickname knew that you wouldn’t respond that way. “Of course,” she said sweetly. 

Billy stood and waited expectantly for a moment, but you never told him to be safe.

You always told him to be safe when he had to go on a job.

By the time the four of them had gathered at Bastion’s office, Billy had pulled his shit together, but there was still a part of him that was reeling. He’d seen a lot in his time on this green earth, but nothing else had come close to this shit.

“What the hell, Bill?” Frank growled as he entered the conference room at Bastion.

Usually the richly appointed room made Billy feel a sense of pride. This was where he brought new clients to discuss their needs with the team. It was a combination of high tech and dark wood, the perfect blend of science and class that said that the company was competent and successful. Now, he could have been sitting in a junkyard for all he cared. “Brother, I’m so sorry to fuck up Karen’s party –" 

"That ain’t what I’m talking about, Bill,” Frank interrupted as Curtis and David entered the room. 

“I think he means, what the hell is wrong with your girl?” Curtis said quietly.

Billy’s shoulders sagged as his chin hit his chest in defeat. “I wish I knew,” he said quietly, then looked up. “Matt said – he said that there’s someone else inside her? I mean, what the fuck does that even mean?”

Frank whistled. “Matt’s seen some shit,” he commented quietly. “Nightmare shit.”

Billy slammed his hand onto the conference table he leaned against. “What, like some voodoo shit?" 

"Ancient Chinese mysticism, actually,” Matt said from the doorway.

Billy jerked to attention. Frank, Curtis and David spun to face Matt and saw two people with him: a young man with curly blonde hair and a young Asian woman.

“This is Danny Rand and Colleen Wing,” Matt announced. “This is Billy Russo, Frank Castle, Curtis Hoyle and David Lieberman. Billy’s girlfriend is the one I was telling you about.”

Billy was quiet for a moment. The girl was Asian, but the white kid? “Ah, pleasure to meet you. But what exactly do you bring to the table?” he asked bluntly.

“I am the Immortal Iron Fist.”

You had been pacing your chamber pretty much non-stop. It was decorated nicely in soothing shades of blue and was much homier than a hotel and certainly better than a dungeon. Knowing that it was your prison didn’t make you appreciate the color scheme, pleasant or not. They could hang silk curtains on the windows, but it didn’t change the fact that there were also bars.

This was so not your thing. Billy probably would have found a way to weaponize the TV remote or built a bazooka out of a toilet tissue tube by now, but aside from making bandages out of the embroidered pillow covers, your DIY skills were strictly decorative. 

You had no idea how long you were to be a guest, either. Knowing that your stay would most likely end with either the man you loved more than life or you dead or critically wounded didn’t make you anxious to end your forced vacation with the elderly Asian woman and her silent minions.

“It sounds as though she has been placed under a spell which removes her soul with her body and replaces it with that of another person,” Danny said. “How long has this been going on?”

Billy scrubbed his face with his hand, utterly heartsick and defeated by the situation. “This morning. It was like she was a different person from the second she woke up.” He laughed humorously. “Little did I know she was literally a different person.”

Danny traded a look with Colleen. “There are only a few people in the world that could cast a spell like that, and most of them are in K'un-Lun.”

“What, now?” David sputtered in amazement. “I’m sorry, but are we really talking spells and and and magic? I mean, I know that there are things out there that we can’t explain but –”

“This is not the time to have 'The Talk’ about the world being larger than you know, David,” Matt said harshly. “Our friend is missing.”

“Shit,” Billy hissed as the pain of those words, resisting the need to double over from the gut punch they brought. “She’s missing. Jesus.”

Curtis clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder and said, “We’re gonna get her back, man.”

“Damn straight,” Frank swore.

You were being punished. Apparently trying to keep the plastic knife from your dinner was not acceptable. You didn’t even know what the hell you were going to do with it; for Christ’s sake, you had literally fallen over when you got your toe stuck in the elastic while putting on your underwear the other day! Still, you felt like you should at least try. 

“What did you hope to accomplish?” Madame Gao snapped at you disapprovingly, almost as if she was addressing a naughty child.

You chuckled bitterly. “I honestly don’t know. I just feel wrong sitting here waiting for the man I love to be murdered by his crazy ex-girlfriend while she’s wearing my body like a Halloween costume,” you railed, beginning to cry. “Why are you helping her?”

“She has pledged herself to me for this favor,” Madame Gao said stiffly.

You scoffed. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. She practically whored herself out when she worked for Homeland, why wouldn’t she sell her soul, too?”

“You should mind your tongue,” Madame Gao warned. 

“Or what?” you sneered. “You’ll kill me? If you let her kill Billy, I don’t really care what happens to me.”

“You hold your life cheap.”

“I don’t. I just hold Billy’s more dear.”

“He wronged my new apprentice,” she said imperiously.

You laughed bitterly at that. “He outplayed your apprentice,” you spat. “She used sex to get information out of Billy and found out he played her back. She just can’t accept that he outsmarted her.”

She stiffened. “Perhaps your information is untrustworthy.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you countered. “But what if it’s yours that’s wrong?”

She paused as if pondering your words and then turned to leave, stopping at the door to say, “Since you cannot be trusted with eating utensils, you will not be allowed them for future meals. If there are any more incidents of pointless defiance such as this, you will be given neither utensils nor food. Do I make myself clear?”

“Abundantly,” you answered coldly.

She nodded once, looking at you consideringly for a moment before turning to leave without another word.

You waited until she was gone to sob in earnest.

“How the hell do we find out what we’re dealing with here?” Billy asked.

“Or who, for that matter,” Matt said. “Who hates you enough to do something like this, Bill? Crazy ex?”

Billy exchanged a look with Frank. “Do you think?” he began.

Frank shook his head in disbelief. “She really hates you, that I know.”

“Who are we talking about?” David demanded. Then, as if struck with the knowledge, he blurted, “Wait, Madani?”

“Hold up, you sayin’ you think a Homeland agent did this?” Curtis said in amazement. 

Billy was shaking his head in disbelief. “She lost her job when all the shit went down. You think she’d go this far off the rails, Frank?”

“Hell hath no fury, brother.”

You laid awake, trying to think of something, anything you could do to escape. 

Had Billy even missed you yet? Was Madani playing some sick mind games with him? God, had she seduced him? You wouldn’t blame Billy of course – hell, as far as he knew, you were you. 

You’d had moments of insecurity when you had first gotten together, of course. Billy was an absolutely stunning man: physically breathtaking, intelligent and charming. He had been around the block so many times you were surprised that the city of New York hadn’t renamed it in his honor. 

And that was exactly what he had told you. You had been sitting next to each other on your sofa watching a movie together when he had asked you what was wrong.

“I just…Billy, you’ve been with so many women. How am I ever gonna be enough?”

He smiled sweetly and kissed your nose. “Sweetheart, I have never been a guy to settle down, and yeah, I’ve had my share of sex. I’m not gonna pretend that I don’t know I’m hot. I can get laid pretty much any time I want.”

“Wow, thanks for this pep talk,” you muttered sarcastically.

Billy had smiled at your snark. “So, doesn’t the fact that I want to be only with you tell you that I’m only gonna be with you?”

You’d thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“Damn right.”

“Probably doesn’t hurt that Frank and Matt would castrate you if you cheated on me, either,” you’d said with a wicked grin.

“There’s my girl,” he’d said with a chuckle.

You came back to the present, even though you’d so much rather stay wrapped in the warmth of your memories with Billy. 

From what you had been told, you didn’t expect to come out of this alive. If you did and Billy had slept with Madani, well, you would forgive him. But, goddamn, you really wished you knew what that crazy bitch’s game was. 

And you really hoped Billy realized that she wasn’t you.

Danny and Colleen needed to gather some spell components of their own to divine what magic had been used, and Matt had gone off to see if he could drum up any leads on Hand activities. Billy, Frank and Curtis had changed into combat gear, ready to go at a moment’s notice, while David was digging into Madani’s affairs as deeply as he could.

Billy had been pacing the floor, so much nervous energy that he felt like he was about to lift off.

“Hey, I think I got something!” David called out.

Billy dashed over to where David was peering into his computer screen. “What?”

“I picked up a video of her leaving her apartment a few months ago and have been running a GAIT tracer on her like how I found Frank.”

“And?” Billy said impatiently.

“And she’s been going in and out of this building every day for the last few weeks, until yesterday. She went in and hasn’t come back out.”

“Micro, you brilliant son of a bitch, I could kiss you!” Billy yelled. “Frank, get on the horn with Matt, tell him to get Rand and Wing back here. We have an op to plan.”

You awoke with a start. It was still pitch dark in your room and you didn’t hear so much as a whisper of breath or shuffle of fabric.

“Who’s there?” you said quietly, hating the waver in your voice.

“It would seem I have misjudged you,” the disembodied voice of the elderly woman. “I saw nothing to inspire such hatred in you, but neither did I see the potential for you to inspire such love, either.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” you asked, attempting to peer into the darkness and see her.

“You have friends in high places. And I underestimated your toy soldier,” she said, voice almost fading away at the end.

“Billy? Is Billy here?” you asked frantically, but there was no answer, and when you scrambled out of bed and over to the light switch, you were alone in the room.

But the door was slightly open.

You crept out into the hallway, terrified but not missing the opportunity to sneak out. As you moved away from your room, you began to hear what sounded like a fight – and then you heard a gunshot.

“Where is she?” you heard Billy scream.

“Billy!!” you yelled as loud as you could, moving toward the sound of his voice.

You reached a room at the end of the hallway where there was what could only be called a battle in progress. Billy, Frank, Daredevil?, a blonde kid you didn’t recognize and an Asian woman were fighting the elderly Asian woman’s guards, Billy and Frank slashing madly with knives while Curtis stayed behind them with a rifle.

You stayed back so that you couldn’t be used against them by being a human shield, but not running to Billy and being quiet so you didn’t distract them was the hardest thing you had ever done.

Finally, the last of the guards dropped and you stepped out of hiding so Billy could see you.

Billy looked at you and you nodded, ready to face your abductor.

“Honey, I’m home,” Billy called out as he entered your shared apartment.

Madani jumped up from where she had been sitting on the couch waiting for Billy to return. “It’s after 3, where the hell have you been?” she asked angrily.

“Aww honeybunch, were you worried about me?” Billy said with what almost seemed to Madani like…sarcasm?

Just then there was a brief knock followed by Frank, Curtis and Micro letting themselves in.

“Oh, hey, I told the guys you’d make us something to eat,” Billy said with a big smile. “You don’t mind, do ya Buttercup?”

Madani narrowed her eyes and bit her tongue.

“Billy, you know how much I hate sappy pet names like that,” you said in Madani’s voice.

Billy’s voice was cold as he, Curtis and Frank all pulled guns on faux-you. “Don’t move, Madani,” he growled.

“Yeah,” you said as she watched her tiny body emerge from behind the large men. “He won’t kill that body, but I told him it was OK to put a couple bullet holes in discreetly.”

Behind you was Daredevil, of all people, and a blond kid that looked slightly familiar. 

Madani looked over at Billy and sneered, “I really didn’t think you were smart enough to figure this out at all, let alone in one day.”

“That’s funny, I always gave you credit for being smart enough to do some investigating before running into a situation,” he said with an icy smile. “I knew something was up before I even opened my eyes this morning.”

You watched Madani’s hateful expression on your face and said, “Damn, babe, do I look that ugly when I’m mad at you or is she just radiating her inner bitch that much?”

“All her, hon,” Billy replied with a small smile.

“In that case, I think it’s time we put her inner bitch back in her outer bitch, don’t you?”

Danny had performed the ritual to return you to your body and then had taken Madani with him, saying he would take her to a place called K'un-Lun to be tried for using dark magic. He assured you that you would never have to worry about Madani coming after either of you for misdirected revenge again.

You had taken a hot shower after they had gone and had been so relieved to feel your own skin, scars and cellulite that you almost cried. But what actually did make you cry in the shower was the fact that while you could tell he was happy to have you back, Billy had made no move to kiss you or touch you in any way. 

Had Madani ruined what you had with Billy?

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in a towel, hair dripping down your back and shoulders as you stared into space.

“Hon?” Billy said gently, standing right in front of you. He knelt before you and ran his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m so sorry this happened to you because of me. I know you’re probably furious with me –”

“What?” you interrupted, surprised. “I’m not mad at you, love.”

“I understand if you are,” he whispered, not meeting your eyes.

“William, look at me,” you said firmly. When his big brown eyes met yours, you saw pain and fear in their depths. “I don’t blame you for this.”

“How can you not?” he whispered.

“Hey,” you said, “this is on that crazy bitch, not you.”

“I brought this home to you. I should have never gotten involved with you, you’re too g–”

You grabbed his hair and pulled him into a kiss, silencing him and showing him how wrong he was. When you pulled apart you were both panting. 

“William Russo, I never want to hear you say you aren’t good enough or you shouldn’t be with me, because I love you more than anyone else in the world.” You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, then gently said, “So shut the hell up, OK?”

Billy grinned. “Yes, ma'am.”

“You knew before you even opened your eyes, huh?” you asked, part shy and somehow part smug.

Billy chuckled. “Yeah, she might have stolen your body, but she could never be you. You’re beautiful physically, yes, but your inner beauty shines brighter than anything,” he said almost reverently. “So, yeah, I knew something was wrong right away, because your touch just radiates love, and that was missing.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Billy,” you whispered,caressing his beard.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Honey, you were the one in danger! I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You threw yourself into Billy’s arms. “You never have to find out,” you said. Then you kissed him and you held one another until you fell asleep wrapped around each other, both thankful to be together and safe.

@marauder–harder / @giggleberts / @thesandbeneathmytoes  / @banditthewriter / @heyitslexy  /  @marauderskeeper / @squidscottjeans  / @russosprettydiamondnow / @iamnotbenbarneswifeyet /  @cutie-bug / @joelynnp / @sssilverssserpent / @acciophoenx / @presstocontinue / @suchatinyinfinity /  @fortisfiliae / @chibiyanai / @raquelbc2003 / @i-padfootblack-things / @rousakousa / @ponycake27 / @hermionegranger  / @drinix  / @something-tofightfor / @life-is-a-melody / @libbymouse   / @letsdanceinthedark/ @lilywoood / @ivegotillegalsinmybottom / @irinazatyk / @thinemineours / @ssserpensortiaaa / @starless-skyox / @lalafral / @hxbbit / @itsjustmylifeconfessions / @buddha-for-satan / @youveseen–thebutcher / @swiftyhowlz  / @shinebrightlikeafanbase / @moonyscardigans / @iaintnofurry / @heytherecix / @ladyblablabla / @damalseer / @starkrobb / @ymariejp / @projectcampbell / @agent-scully-182 / @saralou23/ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme / @ethereal-heavcns / @songtoyou/ @morriganwarrior / @training-wheeels / @breanime / @ifoundmyhappythought / @firecracker98 / @poedamneronhoe / @dylanobrusso / @0-cries-0 / @my-little-dumpster-fire / @shadowhunterscloset / @suna-the-lost-cause / @disengagefrmreality / @achishisha / @curlyhairedblueeyedangel / @editboutique / @traeumerinwitzhelden / @ripsithskywalkers / @littledarlinhavefaithinme / @thesumofmychoices / @propertyofpoeandbucky / @whovianayesha /  @weallhaveadestiny / @saltyshaggymeme / @daffodilsbucky / @abroadcastofthemind​

[mari-beau]

The Right Thing

FANDOM: LOST IN SPACE (2018)

GENRE: Romance, Drama, (a little) Humor

TIMELINE: Between Season 1 & Season 2

CHARACTERS: Don, Judy, Debbie

PAIRING: Don/Judy

RATING: PG/T (References to adult situations; nothing graphic)

WORDS: 1681

SUMMARY: Ever since meeting the Robinsons, Don West has found himself struggling to do the right thing. Judy, in particular puts his conscience to the test. (Sort of an explanation for the shift in Don/Judy dynamic between season one and season two)

Author’s Note:  The reboot series is so satisfying that I never thought I'd feel the need to write fanfiction for it. But alas, I did find myself greatly missing Don & Judy's banter in season two. Honestly, they could've left it at friendly teasing and I would've loved it. Anyway, my brain felt the need to explain why it disappeared between seasons.

...

Don West’s com beeped just as he was elbow deep in the coolant system, making him start and hit his head on the edge of the metal panel. He cursed as Judy Robinson’s voice crackled over the device. 

/Don, I need your help with something./

The pain made him wince as he rubbed at the back of his head, but he pressed a button on his wrist com.  “What is it, doc?”

/Um… some sort of malfunction… in my room./

Don closed his eyes, took a deep, steadying breath, glared at the patched system that was barely holding it together, and replied. “I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

/Thanks./

“Robinsons… gonna work me to death,” he told Debbie. The chicken cocked her head, obviously not falling for his griping. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”

He picked up the pet hen he’d never intended to be anything more than a future meal and made his way through the jupiter that had become his home over the past few months. Debbie didn’t even squirm when he carried her now. He thought she rather liked it. But when he set her down in his room and told her to be good while he helped Judy, she gave him a scathing chicken glare.

“It won’t be long,” he said. “I promise.”

She clucked and showed him her feathered backside as she went for her food dish. 

“Don’t be jealous. There’s plenty of Don West to go around.”

/Don, where are you?/ Judy’s voice rang out more clearly over his com this time. There was a bit of an edge to it that had him in a partial jog as he hurried to her room.

Her door was closed. He frowned, raised his hand to press the chime but it slid open before he could press the button. Judy’s attractive face appeared, her big dark eyes skimming over him and then glancing up and down the hall.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“I-” Before he could finish pointing out that it had only been two minutes, the young doctor grabbed the front of his t-shirt and yanked him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Judy…” He drawled her name in warning, wrapping his hand around her wrist, but she kept her fingers twisted up in his shirt and yanked on it, hard, pulling him down and crashing her lips against his. 

Her kisses were electric. Just like her. Vibrant, scintillating. Irresistible. They had a tantalizing exuberance that he only remembered last experiencing when he was in his early twenties, over a decade ago. Son of a-

He broke off the kiss, tried to ignore the bewildered hurt in her eyes as he placed his hands on her shoulders to push her away. 

“What’s wrong?” Her chin lifted in that stubborn bravado way of hers. “Did I interrupt something important? I thought you were just tinkering with-”

“That’s... uh… That’s not it.” 

She raised her eyebrows, those perfect, kissable lips of hers pursing. 

“We shouldn’t…” He scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn’t used to refusing female attention. And more than that, he liked Judy. A lot. “I mean you’re…”

She silenced him with a glare. But he knew better anyway than to tell her she was only 19, too young, not an adult. Because she was one of the most responsible, wise, compassionate, badass people he’d ever met. Hell, she was more of an adult than him. He also should know better than to point out that her parents wouldn’t approve, would probably kill him. Because Judy herself would kill him for making such an intimation, that she wasn’t capable of making decisions for herself, that she didn’t consider every situation thoroughly before choosing a course of action. He knew better, and yet… 

“Coward.” She caught his gaze. And damn, she was beautiful when she was fierce. And Judy Robinson was always fierce. “You’re afraid of getting close to anyone. But whether you like it or not, this family cares about you. And you care about us. And you care about me.” She stepped in closer, her breasts -which he tried desperately not to think about- brushed against his chest. “And you like kissing me.”

She pulled him down into another kiss. He opened his mouth to her, unable to resist the intrepid probing of her lips, her tongue. And she was delicious. Not just sweet, but complex. Judy Robinson was so complex, so interesting. So… so… Oh, god, so good. 

Her hands had flattened against his stomach, were roaming up to his shoulders. She had skilled doctor’s hands, and so many parts of him wanted to discover just how skilled they were at tasks besides medicine. They slid back down his chest, fingernails scraping through the soft fabric of his t-shirt, raising goosebumps across his skin, making him groan into her mouth that continued to devour him. His own hands gripped her hips reflexively. She had such a feminine, athletic body, strong and beautiful, and pleasing to the touch. So strong.

She’d backed him against the cot, pushed him to sit on it, giving his tingling mouth a break. Oh, hell, he was aroused. He needed to put a stop to this before things really- Damn! 

Judy was up in his lap, straddling his legs, moving in for more devastating kissing, kissing that would doubtless lead to more than kissing, which he couldn’t allow. She was 19 and the Robinsons’ daughter. He liked them. He liked her. He turned his head, thwarted her hungry mouth, but only momentarily, for she kissed and nipped along his jawline instead.

She was certainly a woman who went after what she wanted. Only, he couldn’t give it to her.

He grabbed her shoulders and held her away from him… Well, partly away from him. There were still portions of their bodies in dangerously close proximity. She made a frustrated noise, and gave him her biggest pleading puppy dog eyes. But they weren’t going to work this time. Because the right thing to do was to stop this, stop her randomly calling him for secret rendezvous, pulling him into vacant corners for stolen kisses, looking at him like she might just be-

“You’re a smart young woman, Judy,” he said. “I mean, I have my moments of genius...”

He winked at her, making her smile. She stroked the nape of his neck, affection warming her features. He ignored how much he liked her gentler attention, because he had a point to get across. 

“But you’re way smarter than me, doc. You must know that the only reason you want me is because I’m the only option here.” 

Her soft, dangerously affectionate look hardened and he knew he was one small prod away from waking her stubborn temper. But it had to be done. 

“It’s probably been awhile for you. Hell, it’s been awhile for me, too. But you can do better than me, princess. And when you get out of here, get to where you’re going in life, there will be some fancy pants egghead waiting for you.”

“Just… Just shut up, Don. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” There was a pink hue coloring the gorgeous brown skin of her face. Her lips screwed up, a line forming between her brows. Her thinking face. She took a deep breath, met his gaze directly. Her eyes were always almost unbearably intense, showing all of her passion and intelligence. She wet her lips, surprising him with the nervous gesture.

“I’m not desperate for physical companionship. I genuinely like you, Don West. And if you can’t believe that…” Her eyes shimmered, but she was still wearing her tough face. “I’m sad for you.”

She removed herself from his lap, and it was a loss that made the bottom drop out of his stomach. She walked towards the door, not looking at him, an obvious dismissal.

It was for the best. It was.

“Oh, and Don…” He paused, so close that the scent of her, somehow fresh despite months of recycled air, filled his head. Her warm, dark eyes met his. “You would’ve been my first…”

“Fi-irst?” He nearly choked on the question, felt his mouth go dry. But felt his uncertainty fade ever so slightly. He had done the right thing, putting a stop to this… whatever it was between the young doctor and himself.

Wait. Was her mouth twitching?

“I didn’t mean like that,” she said. Then all amusement fled her. “I’ve just never felt…”

She closed her eyes, huffed, her cheeks turning pink again. He couldn’t blame her, he was feeling heat creep up his own neck and face. Their interactions always had been primarily light-hearted teasing and fiery exchanges. Deep discussions of feelings was not on his favorite things list, either.

“I think I could fall in love with you,” she said, her eyes finally daring to find his. She was so beautiful. Why did she have to be so beautiful, inside and out? So brave and strong and noble. So stubborn and mouthy. So Robinson.

“Oh, princess. I already love you.” The words were hard to get out, hard to say, and they emerged in a whisper he could barely hear himself. “But I love all of you stupid Robinsons. And I won’t do anything to hurt any of you.”

He jabbed the door control with his thumb. He needed to get out of there, away from her, the summer-breeze scent of her hair and skin, the consuming depth of her warm dark eyes, the pull of her kissable lips and smart mouth… 

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she said. He turned to give her a bittersweet smile, finding her standing tall with her arms crossed in front of her chest, that adorable set to her jaw. A warrior through-and-through. “I’m tougher than you think. Even if things didn’t work out...”

“I know you’re tough, Judy. You’ll get over me in no time. But I can’t lose the Robinsons.”

Don West walked out the door. 

He’d done the right thing.

END. .... A/N: I actually hate criticisms of fictional (or real) relationships based on age differences. If they are two adults, then age is not what matters, not as much as compatibility, respect, etc. But at the same time, I would've been okay with Don & Judy just being friends, and wish TPTB had kept that teasing banter of theirs! My brain felt like putting a romantic-based reason for their shift in interaction in there. Maybe just to have fun with them, Judy as an aggressive partner (once she makes up her mind she wants him) and Don having to pull back because of his growing attachment to the whole clan.

[shreddedparchment]

Shattered Glass Epilogue

07/15/2019

Pairing: Tony x Reader, Steve x Reader     Word Count: 5,638

Masterpost  Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, language, angst, water balloons

A/N: Guys...did you really think that I could just leave the story like that?! lol I had to stop writing because it was 4am when I finished both chapter two and three but there was always going to be an epilogue and one of you guessed what it was kinda going to turn into! Maybe I’m becoming predictable? Either way, I hope you enjoy this final piece of this angsty puzzle. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

You’d always assumed your little slice of heaven would look a certain way.

After losing your parents, all you’d ever wanted was to feel warm and safe. Protected as you had when you were a girl.

For a while that slice of heaven had included Tony. He’d made you feel safe and though he hadn’t meant to make you feel loved too, he had.

It had slipped out in small, tender moments even before you two collided and imploded.

When he'd found you struggling with your ability in a vacant parking lot, drunk off your ass and lifting cars.

He’d shown up like a hero, clad in hot rod red and gold, falling from the sky like some metallic angel.

He caught the third car you'd been about to pile up onto the roof of the bank next door, dropped it, then blasted you with a sonic pulsar boom that sent you flying onto your ass.

You'd groaned and scraped your knee, turning to climb back to your feet where you teetered and then fell back again.

Tony had moved towards you, stepped out of his armor, and then squat down beside you.

He’d pushed back the curtain of hair on your face then sighed when he saw your hazy drunk eyes.

“What are you doing out here, kid?” He'd asked and his voice had been sultry and deep. Comforting.

Like a baby duck you imprinted on him, fell hard in that moment as you stared up into his gorgeously tanned face. His dark eyes peered straight through you, seeing you as the mess you were instead of the menace he’d probably been sent to dispatch.

“Tony Stark?” You'd whimpered at him.

“Come on. Get up. I know just what to do with you.” Just like that he’d plucked you from nothing and given you purpose.

You were part of the team. Untrained. Unfocused. A hazard really. Everyone knew it.

Nat, Wanda, and Vision had attempted to reign your frenetic energy in but they could only help so much.

And your heart; egged on by stolen smiles with Tony on one-on-one lessons on his tech and lingering grazes, skin to skin. Swift deliberate caresses to the back if your head, a stroke of your shoulder. Always accompanied by an array of warm flutters.

The imprint left by Tony Stark was impossible to ignore and it had consumed you.

It ate you up and digested you before spitting you back up in a heap.

If there’s one thing you know now, it’s that Tony Stark never loved you. Not the way you wanted.

You'd been an obsession for him as much as he’d been to you. A broken toy to fix…or break beyond repair which is what it had nearly felt like.

So, you left.

Here in your little house, you tidy your small breakfast table and gather your dishes to wash.

The day is young and the sun streams in through your tall front windows filling the small space with warm golden glitter.

You love the warm swish of your maxi skirt, soft stretchy red cotton, as you settle in front of the sink and get to work.

This consists of you holding onto the edge of the sink. You focus, chewing on your lip as you use your ability to move the soapy brush across the dirty plates. The water running gently, rinsing and washing with only the strength of your mind.

It’s liberating, being gentle. Using your power for something so unlike the night you first received them.

Killing your parents, however inadvertently, still haunts you and you wake up at least once a night from nightmares that strangle you into choked sobs. You wish the memory would fade but it seems emblazoned into your mind and you’ve stopped fighting it.

It takes a lot of your energy to focus on doing menial tasks, but you know it’s necessary. If you want to control it. If you want to reign over what you see as your curse and appreciate it as a part of who you are, then maybe things will get easier.

You spend the morning cleaning, only to dirty a new plate and glass for lunch.

Being lazy from using your ability so much, you opt for the easy sandwich. Nothing fancy. Just enough to take the hunger with a large glass of lemonade.

You take your meal outside to sit in the wicker bench on the right end of your covered porch. Your other wicker seat, angled so that you can sit with your feet up, plate in your lap. With the larger dish of three more sandwiches waiting to be devoured, and your lemonade sitting on the small outdoor table to your right.

As you eat, you shut your eyes and enjoy the sun while it can still reach you here in your sheltered retreat. You observe the small country house you found, investing most of your money earned while still working with the Avengers into purchasing it and the property it sits on. Nestled out of the way, a mile outside of the nearest town so that no one will bother you and you don’t accidentally go scaring any civilians with your powers.

The pink floral print of your cushions makes you happy. You feel the seat beside you, smiling as you chew.

These are the things you look for now. The small bits in your life that can make you smile. If the incident with Tony has taught you anything, it’s that things will always come along to make you happy and other things will always come along to make you sad.

Nothing in life is easy and you’re going to be stressed or worried or angry or sad more often than you are happy, but those happy moments are yours to relish. You know now that you need to make the most of them and let the rest fall away.

Breaking down like you did…that can’t happen again.

Sitting with your eyes shut, you feel the storm before you see it. You smell it before it comes.

The gentle warm breeze that rustles the viridian oaks and cypress that nestle your home in a protective cocoon suddenly gusts, turning gold and chilling. Like the air straight from an AC vent. You open your eyes, take in the suddenly darkening sky—the sun suddenly swallowed by large majestic puffs of fluffy black cloud—and hurry to your feet to clean up before the rain can come.

You head inside, bare feet plopping gently against the weatherproofed wood of your porch and then the shining chocolate brown of your living room. You grab your breakfast tray, clutching it close as you walk and move back out onto the porch.

You nearly scream when you notice someone suddenly standing at the foot of your stairs, but the storm blue hue of his eyes takes your breath away before you can utter a single cry.

He looks too good. Too good to be here, darkening your doorway…or lighting it up, if you’re honest.

With his blonde hair combed back, a blue button-up hugging the not so subtle curves of his biceps, shoulders, and pecs…you’d forgotten how pretty he is. How heartbreakingly beautiful.

You’d been sure that this had passed, this urge to see him, this yearning for those late-night cuddles where he’d chased those pesky nightmares away and kissed you until you couldn’t remember your own name.

Now that you see him, your chest tells you no. You’re not over it. Not over him.

“Hi.” He says, his deep voice making your heart ache so much that you reach up to rub the spot on your white t-shirt over your heart.

“Hi.” You reply, unable to think of anything else to say.

You’re so utterly flabbergasted by his sudden presence, after months of no contact, that your mind stupidly sings the chorus to Dolly Parton’s song, Here You Come Again.

Here you come again,

Looking better than a body has a right to,

And shaking me up so,

That all I really know,

Is here you come again,

And here I go.

No. You don’t need boys. They’re nothing but trouble.

You move for the seat you’d occupied, pushing yourself to ignore him as best you can. You’ll get what he wants out of him and then send him on his way.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” You nearly gasp, finding just enough strength to demand the answer from him somewhat sternly.

Around your house the storm builds, the wind whipping the trees back and forth as the smell of wet earth reaches your nose.

“I…I’ve been looking for you. After you left the way you did, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He admits, and you cringe where he can’t see, placing the tray down to pile on the plates and glass with your back to him.

You pick it back up, balancing it just above your waist as you turn back to look at him.

“Well, I’m okay. As you can see. So…you can go now.” You move past him as he climbs up your stairs, but he doesn’t follow you inside, letting your screen door shut behind you as he lingers just on the other side.

“I-” He stops, you can hear the hesitation in his voice but as you put your tray down, you don’t dare turn to face him.

“Y/N…about what happened the night you left,” He begins.

“It was a mistake?” You ask him, probing despite your better judgement.

Your mind plays those final hours on the compound over again, remembering every sensation, every touch.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve shuts the door, kicking it closed as he hoists you up and you wrap your legs around his waist.

You know it’s wrong. You know that it’s just your sorrow, your grief. You just lost Tony and you’re leaving. You’re abandoning this life to seek out another, abandoning Steve who was only trying to give you some comfort.

A quick hug before you leave but things sparked, and the flame grew too big as his touch lured you in.

He’d kissed your cheek, too close to your mouth and the way his hands felt on your hips, squeezing and pulling in familiar ways.

He’d pulled back to look into your eyes, searching, hoping…then leaned down to kiss you softly. Then harder, hungry but so tenderly that your heart nearly heals itself from his affection.

He’d pulled back again, moaning as you did, and he’d pulled you into his room.

Now, as he tumbles with you towards his bed, you forget that you’re leaving. You forget that Tony just ripped your heart out because Steve is here, and he means more to you than even you’d known. More than you want to admit.

He collapses with you, pushing you up until he has you pinned at the center of his bed. He kisses you as he pulls each piece of your clothes off. Shirt, pants, bra, panties, each article followed with sweet, aching, searing buttery kisses.

Then he’s naked too and he’s inside you, filling you up in ways that only he can.

You don’t compare him to Tony in the moment, but you think about the way Steve makes you feel more cherished, special, almost holy in his worship. He holds you close, not tight, but softly like he’s trying to show you how much he loves you there but also not break you. Skin sliding slick with yours as he pulls you up and lays back to watch you rise and fall on top of him.

You press your hands, so small against his muscles, to his chest and rock your hips against his cock, breathless moans tearing through your throat as you half cry, half whimper.

His hands trace your hips, your sides, he cups your breasts and then moves them down along your stomach until he can help coax your climax faster, rubbing your nub in slow tantalizing circles.

You come undone above him, shaking and trembling then falling against his chest where he holds you and pumps himself into you in four quick thrusts before he releases himself into you, groaning with his climax.

He caresses the back of your head, running one hand along the length of your back and the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion. Emotional. Physical. Mental.

You’re both so tired.

When you wake up, you get dressed, give him one last lingering look, and escape from this life. You escape from the pain of it because while your heart had beat with Steve’s tonight…Tony is still waging his war inside of you. Tearing you apart with his love that can go nowhere. A love that you need to learn to give up before you can have even the slightest chance of moving on.

So, you leave him there in his bed, arms empty, with the love he wants to give you that you don’t deserve.

~~~~~~~~~~

“No.” He nearly growls. “No, it wasn’t.”

You relax a little, sighing.

“Steve, why are you here?” You’d been doing so well but it would be a lie to say that you hadn’t missed him.

Before your jealousy and temper had begun to put a rift between you and the rest of the team, Sam, Wanda, Nat, Vision…all of you had gotten along well. Your love for Tony, your love for Steve. It had all ripped holes in you bringing out the worst parts of you.

Sam had been cruel in many ways but he’d also only had half of the story. Before all of the dramatics, you and Sam had actually been getting along. There was no friendship yet but had your bad sides not been so prevalent, you might have struck up a friendship with Sam. Wanda might have been given the chance to really get to know you, and maybe Nat might have also welcome you more warmly?

You miss the team too, but you don’t belong there, and you know you can’t go back.

“I missed you.” He admits, stealing your breath.

You stand up straight, hesitate…

Finally, you turn to face him and slowly make your way towards him as the sky outside rumbles.

He stares into your eyes, those storm blues drinking in your face as if he literally can’t get enough of seeing it. Is this really what he’s like? Is this Steve in love? You’ll find out shortly.

As you get closer, his eyes wander down, following the flow of your arm, down along your wrist and as you push the screen door open and step back out onto the porch, he takes two steps back as his eyes take in the bump that your tummy has become.

That bump pushes against the stretchy cotton of your skirt, white t-shirt tucked in, so it accentuates the bump a bit more.

Steve’s breathing heavily as the wind whips your skirt around your ankles. You rub your tummy, wary of his reaction and what it might possibly mean. He stares for so long, blinking and trying to piece together what it is he’s seeing.

“How long-?” He asks, stopping because he can’t finish the question for some reason.

“Five months.” You hear the rain start and it pours hard.

It rattles against your roof and then trickles down, falling onto the shoulder of Steve’s shirt.

You move towards him and reach for his forearm, pulling him under the porch fully so that he can avoid getting wet.

Your touch seems to awaken him. He shifts his hand instantly, grasping hold of your wrist and instead of letting you pull him too far under the porch, he pulls you towards him instead. He’s at least not getting wet anymore, but you’re so close to him you can smell the sweetwater of his aftershave, the soft scent of soap from his morning shower. The melon of his shampoo. He smells like Steve and it smells so good.

“Tony’s?” He asks, a clipped question because he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a complete sentence.

You feel the shock in the tremble of his fingers and the see it in the shiver of his eyes.

You shake your head, “I don’t know.”

Steve seems to deflate, mindless running his right hand down along your shoulder to your other wrist as his left continues to hold your right.

“I-I think it’s yours.” You confess, thinking back to those horrible days before you left. “Tony and I had a scare on that mission we went on. He…I took the morning after pill.”

You’ve never told anyone this at it embarrasses you because back then you’d have been happy to be pregnant with Tony’s baby.

For a fleeting moment, you’d been excited. Now you’re only terrified that it is his. That Tony will always be tied to you in that way…you don’t want that.

Steve sighs, it’s weighty. There’s something he’s not saying. “What?”

Steve shakes his head. “No…I don’t want to-”

“Tell me.” You insist, staring up not his beautiful face, now screwed up with that all too familiar disapproving frown.

“Pepper’s pregnant.” He tells you and it’s like you’re punched in the gut.

You shut your eyes, hating the pain that this news gives you. It confirms your suspicions. It had never been about Tony not wanting kids. He just didn’t want them with you.

“Are you sure?” Steve suddenly asks, pulling your wrists up to press them against his chest. “Is the baby mine?”

You blink, startled back into the present and away from those memories that you’ve worked hard to put behind you.

You get what he’s asking but despite your wish to give him an easy answer, the truth is never easy. It never has been for you.

“No.” You shake your head. “The truth is Tony and I started using condoms after what happened on the island and…it could have broken. I wasn’t on birth control so…I think it’s yours Steve.”

You want it to be Steve’s. Even before he’d shown up, it was your deepest wish. “I haven’t been on birth control since you and I broke up and you’re the only man that I’ve slept with without protection, but we can find out. We can test the baby and we can know for sure.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” He asks, suddenly dropping your hands to place his on either side of your belly. “I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

Your heart flutters and melts. Steve. Your inner voice croons.

“Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid? So blind? I’m literally the stupidest person on the planet for not seeing what I had before I gave it up and now…what if it is Tony’s baby?” You panic, voice rising in octave.

Steve reaches down to pull your chin up so that he can look at your worrying face.

“It’s my baby, Y/N.” He tells you, no question or doubt in his mind. “If you’ll let me be here…no matter what…it’s mine.”

And you want to kiss him. You’re relieved and you’re swooning from the sheer gallantry this man is showing you and you seriously hate yourself for doing what you did to him. But you don’t kiss him because what if he’s reacting to the baby? What if he’s doing it because you’re falling to pieces again?

You smile up at him, forcing your hands to push him back a bit but he doesn’t go far. He feels the baby kick in your stomach and he smiles wide, storm blue eyes sparkling as thunder rumbles overhead.

“Come inside. This storm isn’t going anywhere for a while.” It takes every bit of will power you have to turn away from him and move back into the house, but he follows close at your tail, his hand reaching out to stroke the small of your back.

At six months, your belly is rounding out nicely.

Steve hasn’t left since he showed up randomly that day at the cusp of spring.

With birds chirping in the trees and your backyard freshly cut, Steve lets the lawn mower power down as he reaches up to scratch an itchy spot on his forehead.

He’s not sweating but he looks misty. Hot. Gray t-shirt clinging to his torso, jeans sitting pretty on his nice ass.

You smirk as you watch him, waiting with the cold glass of lemonade dripping with condensation balanced at the center of your palm.

He turns to look towards the house and notices you watching, a smile tugging at his lips as he shields his eyes from the sun of the passing morning.

“Is that for me?” He calls to you and you nod before moving down the steps towards him.

“Woah, wait. I’ll come to you.” He fusses, bounding across the law towards you.

When he reaches you, you shake your head. “You know, I could catch myself if I fell. I don’t need a man to help me.”

“Wha-? I’m not a man.” He informs you, taking the glass from you and taking a long gulp. He gasps with delight at the cold sensation of the liquid trailing down his throat. “I’m Captain America. Look, you’re even flying my colors.”

He points at the flag on your back porch and you try not to laugh. “That came with the house.”

“Oh.” He pouts. “Well, you didn’t take it down.”

“Thank you for cutting my grass.” You watch him down the rest of his lemonade and resists the urge to lean in and take a nice long whiff of his sweat misted skin.

Your hormones are crazy right now and jumping Steve seems to be the only thing you can think about lately.

“Of course.” He smiles at you, holding his glass out for you.

“Let it go.” You tell him.

“What? Just drop it?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

He tilts his head, confused, but drops it as you ask, and it floats there in the air between the two of you.

You struggle to hold your concentration with Steve breathing heavily behind you, moving closer and blowing hot air on the back of your neck. His hands come around you from behind, pressing against your stomach to feel for the baby.

This is the only way that he touches you.

You know that he doesn’t know why you won’t pick up where the two of you left off. You know that he wants to, but he’s been respecting your wishes and he hasn’t tried to hug you or kiss you or sneak into your bedroom—no matter how much you wish he freaking would.

But with your baby, he has the perfect excuse to touch you and he takes it as often as he can.

Of course, that doesn’t help with your training and the glass falls, thunking against the ground but thankfully, not breaking.

You sigh, disappointed.

“Maybe you’re doing this all wrong?” He asks.

“How else am I supposed to do it?” You ask him, annoyed with his need to touch your tummy but also greedy for it.

You can hear the amusement he has for your annoyance and he turns you around slowly, releasing you completely once you’re facing him.

“When do you find it easy to control your power?” He wonders.

“When I’m pissed off.” You tell him pointedly. “But…I guess also when I don’t have to think about it too much? Like, when I was the dishes I-”

“I’ve seen you play your little game.” He’s talking of course about the way you try to make music with the brush and the clinking of the plates, forks, and spoons.

You didn’t know he’d been paying attention that closely.

“Well, I’ve noticed you trying to develop your gift and I had an idea. Really, you’ll be doing me a favor.” He tells you, wandering away towards a large basket you hadn’t noticed just by the steps of the porch.

He walks it over to the left side of your yard, puts it down, and then waves you over.

You move to him, hand on your lower back as you carefully avoid the uneven parts of your hard.

“I’ll read up on how to even the yard out.” He says, noticing your careful footing.

“I’m okay.” You insist, but you can see him making a mental note.

As you reach him, you peek into the basket and smile. “Water balloons?”

“It’s really hot.” He tells you. “And after cutting your yard, I could use a cooling off. Assuming you can catch me with those.”

“You want me to use my power to fling water balloons at you?” You ask, incredulous but smiling.

“You not up for it?” He teases and you bite your lower lip.

It takes no effort to get the nearest blue balloon to fly out of the basket.

Steve gasps and rushes off at a slow jog as the water sloshes inside the sheer rubber. You make it zoom after him, but he dodges it easily and laughs as you miss.

“Ooh, missed.” He brags.

You narrow your eye at him.

“Uh-oh.” He says, chuckling as you chuck balloon after balloon at him.

He’s too fast. Too good at dodging and you’ve gone through almost half the basket when he stops with his hands on his knees.

“Give it up, doll face, you’re just no match for my speed.”

Your heart flutters at his old nickname for you, but his taunt pushes you to think slightly outside of the box.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He says, a wide smile spreading over his pearly whites.

You look down at the basket and it takes slightly more effort, but you manage to make all the balloon float up to hover around him.

“Hey!” He complains. “That’s cheating.”

“Dodge this, Rogers.” You taunt and send all of the balloons flying at him at once.

He doesn’t stand a chance of course and doesn’t even try to move from his spot across from you. He’s pelted with balloon after balloon. A cacophony of bursting rubber and splashing water fills the better part of a minute and when he’s no longer being hit, Steve stands, soaked from head to toe.

He gasps and spits, dripping, that t-shirt clinging so very nicely to his form.

“That was not-” As he looks up at you, you send one final red balloon at his face where it bursts with a loud pop.

He spits the water, looking so stupid with his face all scrunched up against the impact that you can’t help but laugh.

“-fair.” He complains, wiping at his face.

He looks up at you, watching you as you struggle to find support while you laugh in loud streaming chuckles. You reach down to cup the bottom of your belly, really belting out the laugh as you replay the look on his face over and over.

“Think that’s funny?” He asks, and you nod.

You laugh until you’re gasping for air and Steve watches you, eyes dazzling in twinkles as he does. His smile slowly fades, and you straighten up, recovering from your fit of laughter because of the serious set of his jaw.

“Steve?” You check, worried that you might have taken this all too far and upset him. “I-Did I hurt you with that last one?”

Your worry seeps through and you rub your belly, taking a step towards him when he suddenly struts towards you with a purposeful gait.

“Steve, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

But he sweeps you into his arms, hands holding the sides of your face as he ducks down and meets you in a crushing kiss.

Your knees nearly buckle as the sweep of his kiss steals your breath. Steve is always stealing your breath.

His lips move slow, hungrily, open mouthed kisses where his tongue slides between your lips to deep it. He moans against your lips, satisfied but nowhere near sated.

He’s dripping wet and your skin pimples as he presses his very wet torso against your chest and tummy but you can’t find it in you to mind as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to kiss him just as eagerly as he needs.

It’s minutes before he pulls back, pulling out of a lingering peck only to rest his forehead against yours.

“Choose me.” He begs, eyes shut. One hand wanders down to the side of your tummy and he caresses it lovingly.

“Yes.” You nod, staring up into his face, wishing you’d said yes to him when he first asked you to choose him. “Yes, Steve. I choose you.”

He smiles, so happy you can see the flush of pride on his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet yours, staring with the pure devotion, the choosing that you’ve been searching for too.

“I love you.” He whispers, and you cry but pull him into another kiss as you once again tell him with just your body how much you really love him.

Steve eventually has to go back to the team, and he promises to come back.

When he leaves the first time, the panicked insecure little girl in you worries and is absolutely sure that Steve won’t return.

He stays away for a week and when he comes back, you’re so relieved you cry.

He holds you close and kisses your tears away then kisses your belly.

You don’t wonder about Steve returning anymore after that first time, but a new wonder begins to sprout in your mind.

The bigger your stomach gets, the more often he comes back. For Steve, leaving the team so often is strange.

“Do the others wonder where you go?” You ask, nestled in against his side, naked bodies covered with your blanket.

Steve’s hands are always on your tummy, especially when he can touch it directly. Skin to skin.

“They’re curious. Let them wonder.” He says, nuzzling into your hair as he drifts off to sleep.

Your heart gives a tiny ache, a deep-seated worry cropping up to poison your heart. Is Steve hiding you again?

This worry follows you into your eighth month of pregnancy. It makes you grumpy and when Steve asks you what’s wrong, you blame your swollen ankles and your aching back.

He convinces you to go back to the compound to give birth to the baby.

He doesn’t trust the local hospital for a possible enhanced baby birth, and you suppose that after nearly nine months away, and with Tony and Pepper now officially married, it’s safe to go back.

You’re not happy as the two of you arrive. It’s late and you’re terrified of running into Tony and Pepper, but Steve assures you that they’re at their new house and don’t come up to the compound as often.

No one is up when you arrive and as soon as you step off of the elevator, F.R.I.D.A.Y. greets Steve with a message.

“Hello, Captain. Welcome back. You too, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You grumble at her, the late-night arrival not helping with your suspicion that Steve might be trying to get you in here when one is around. Maybe he’ll sneak you out too?

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks, rubbing your aching lower back.

You don’t answer because F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts.

“Captain Rogers, Natasha would like you to bring her the London mission report. She said she forgot to include a few things and would hate for you to file them incomplete.”

Steve sighs. “Damn it, Nat. Quick detour, baby. Come on.”

You don’t want to go to Steve’s office! Your feet are hurting, your back is aching, you’re tired and irritated and you’re still nothing but Steve’s dirty little secret.

Then you reach Steve’s office and as he flicks on the light, your eyes wander over to his desk and find at least fifteen pictures frames, each one holding a picture of you.

Steve doesn’t stop at his desk but instead moves to the filing cabinet on the opposite wall and with his back to you, rifles through files upon files of mission reports.

You waddle over to his desk, reaching for the closest picture and try to remember when he took it. You’re sitting on your sofa, reading a book. There’s another of you cooking. Another of you washing dishes with them floating in front of you and the silliest look of concentration on your face.

There’s one of you and Steve together. That one you remember taking. And another where he’s got you wrapped in his arm as he kisses your cheek. It’s your face over and over again on his desk from all different angles doing various different things but the largest picture, sitting just beside his computer monitor so that a mere tilt of his head might bring you into view, is one of you standing on your porch, hands on your swollen belly. You’re staring down at your baby, a peaceful smile you don’t recognize on your face.

Strong arms wrap themselves around you as slow tears trickle along your cheeks. He’s had you on display here, in his office, for everyone to see this entire time?

“Everyone’s been so eager to see you in person. I told them it wasn’t the right time yet. I don’t want us to move back here when the baby’s born. I want to stay out in our little house. I like us there better.” He tells you, lips pressed loosely against your cheekbone. “Is that okay?”

You shift in his arms, elated because you aren’t his secret.

You’re just his.

“Yes.” You smile. “Hell, yeah it’s okay.”

Two days later, your baby girl is born, and she looks so much like Steve you think your heart will burst.

You and Steve name her Sarah.

Support me on Ko-fi!

Forever Tag List @jessieray98 @crist1216 @rainbowkisses31 @xxloki81xx @the-wayward-robot @quokkatrash @tiffanynguyen03 @basementcafe @kind-sober-fullydressed @moli1497 @badassbaker @awkwardfangirl2014 @shield-agent78 @supernaturaldean67 @sea040561 @jewelofwinter @this-side-of-midnight5 @sebbystanlover-vk @just4muggles @death-unbecomes-you @lilulo-12 @whosmarisaaarw @hiddles-rose @pandazlazykid @alagalaska @theonelittleone @xlittlestarling @moonlessnight14 @natura1phenomenon @pineapplebooboo @spaghettirogers @dsakita @sincerelytlh @booklover2929 @lovefreylove @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @vulpecula-minor @the-real-mary-jane @babytrollgirl @wildefire @fairislesheets @mother-of-fire-snakes @xrosegoldwolfx @queenoftheunderdark @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thefridgeismybestie @mcuwillbethedeathofme @peaceinourtime82

Shattered Glass @shikin83 @the-ayo-lit @officialmarvelwhore @saturngirlz @bandsandanimefreak @vesta-ro @justmasblack

Steve Taglist @patzammit

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Yours Truly [Part Eleven]

Summary: Chris and Layla return from Minnesota.  Pairing: Chris Pratt x OFC, Chris Evans x OFC Word Count: 1810 Warnings: FLUFF. A/N: This fic was previously posted on my multi-fandom account; in honor of OC Appreciation Day, I figured I would queue it all up for your reading pleasure throughout the day! This was a collab with @captain-s-rogers , and I will link her chapters at the end of all of my posts! Some GIFs were difficult to find again, so if there’s no credit, they’re from Google Image Search or from the original post. 

July 13

Caroline,

I skipped a few days of letters, waiting for Chris to head to Minnesota. I dropped him at the Kansas City airport this morning, and in a couple of days, I’ll pick him and Layla up and bring them home.

I have an interview this afternoon with the elementary school that Layla will be going to. I’m excited, especially after having met a few of Layla’s friends at her party. They seem like good kids, and would be so fun to teach. I like the town, and staying close would be good.

How are things with Chris? Ugh, I’m so torn between wanting you to be able to keep your job and not have to deal with the media, but also wanting you two to be together! He’s just so perfect for you, and even seeing you on stage next to him – you’re adorable together. I hope you haven’t completely given up on him.

See how I’m avoiding talking about my Chris? I can’t even write the words, but I guess I have to since we have sworn off the phone again. The date was pure perfection. He made me dinner and we ate outside on the patio with the first sunflower blooms of the season in a vase on the table. We danced to that Billy Currington song I’ve always been obsessed with, and then it started to rain. We ran inside and he kissed me and then – don’t you DARE say I told you so! – told me that he loves me.

Caroline. Why does that terrify me? Chris is amazing. He makes me laugh – like really laugh, not the polite way like when something is kind of funny, but the kind of laugh that comes out when you don’t expect it.

I know why it terrifies me. It’s because he also told me that I filled a hole in their home. What if he only thinks that he loves me because I’m filling whatever void Emily left behind? Honestly though, I think that’s what worries me the most, and it’s because – am I really about to say this? – because I love him, too.

What the hell is going on with us, C?

Yours truly,

Sadie

After donning the same outfit she had worn for her date with Chris, Sadie tucked the letter into her bag to mail out later, and headed for the elementary school.

Mr. McCaffree, the elementary school principal, greeted Sadie cheerfully when she arrived, and welcomed her right into his office. He asked all the usual interview questions, and seemed very impressed with Sadie overall.

“I do have a couple of other interviews, one today and one tomorrow, but I have to tell you, Ms. Coleman, they’ll be hard-pressed to do better than you,” Mr. McCaffree told her with a smile. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Sadie smiled back. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

He nodded. “I’ll call you by Friday.”

“Sounds great,” Sadie replied, shaking hands with the man. “Thank you.”

She left the school, stopped at the post office, and then headed back to the farm. She changed into a tank top and shorts, and decided to take a walk around the property. With the distraction of the interview over, there was only one thing on her mind.

The last few days with Chris had been wonderful. He had apologized immediately after blurting out that he loved her, assured her that he wasn’t out to rush her and there was no agenda behind his spontaneous confession.

“You’ve stolen my heart,” he sighed before kissing her knuckles. “I don’t expect things to happen so quickly for you, but, please, tell me I haven’t ruined what we’ve started.”

Sadie had assured him that nothing was ruined. Though she knew she felt the same way, she didn’t let on to that fact — simply told Chris that rushing things would likely ruin the connection between them, and she didn’t want that.

“It’s more and more clear the longer I’m here, there’s a reason this job posting came to my attention. There’s a reason it all worked out so well, losing my job back home but finding an opportunity here with you and Layla. But, I don’t want to lose this, either.”

They had spent the rest of the evening talking on the couch, once they changed into dry clothes. Sadie avoided going to bed, knowing the storm would keep her awake; Chris wasn’t in any hurry to leave her while she was frightened. They fell asleep together on the couch, comfortable and warm.

The next couple of days after that, Chris gave her her space to process his confession. He was always open when she approached him, but wasn’t in her presence more often or for longer than need be. The night before he left for Minnesota, Chris took her out to dinner in town. Their interactions were easy and comfortable, despite the confusion and uncertainty Sadie was experiencing about their feelings for each other.

At the airport that morning, Chris had kissed her sweetly and promised to call when he could. It was a short flight to Minneapolis, but there would be a couple hours’ drive to the town where his parents lived. Sadie had a lot to think about, but so did Chris. After all, he hadn’t planned on saying what he said; he hadn’t planned on falling in love with the woman he hired to teach and care for his daughter over the summer – and certainly not so quickly.

No closer to reconciling her mixed-up feelings on the matter, Sadie wandered into the shed. She had been in this building only once before, and that was to retrieve Layla who had gone out under the pretense of asking her father a question, then stuck around to bug him.

She looked around at the tools in the shed, recognizing some and wondering about the purpose of others. Finally, she came to Chris’s workbench, smiling at the pictures of Layla from over the short years of her life. Finally, she found a copy of the picture of Sadie and Layla from Layla’s birthday party. Sadie remembered making an extra copy for Chris, but never thought he would put it up anywhere. She took the photo down from where it was taped to the inside of a tool box lid, studying the image for a few moments before flipping it over.

“My girls at Layla’s fifth birthday party,” Sadie read on the back of the photo. As a smile spread across her face, she repeated, “My girls.”

With those two words, every bit of confusion was erased from Sadie’s mind – and her heart.

When the day came for Sadie to pick up Chris and Layla from the Kansas City airport, she was so excited, she left the farm a full hour sooner than necessary. The house had been too quiet without Layla, and just plain lonely over the few days that Chris was gone.

While she waited for their flight to arrive, she sat and read a book, although she was so excited, she had to read several of the pages two or three times. Focusing on the content of the book was not her mind’s priority.

“Adie!”

Sadie dropped her book just in time for Layla to launch herself into Sadie’s arms. Sadie squeezed the little girl tight, feeling relieved at having her charge home once more.

“Did you have so much fun with Grandma and Grandpa?” Sadie asked.

Layla nodded earnestly. “I did! I have something for you, but you have to have it at home Daddy said because it’s in my suitcase.”

“Fair enough,” Sadie chuckled, tucking her book back into her bag and handing the keys over to Chris. “Glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he smiled, as Layla ran ahead to the baggage claim. “I haven’t told her about us yet. I thought I’d let you decide when you’re ready for that.”

“Soon,” Sadie promised. “Layla, sweetie, stay where we can see you, please!”

Chris’s and Layla’s suitcases showed up about ten minutes later. Once the car was loaded up, they were headed back home. Another rainstorm had set in on the last twenty minutes of the drive, which meant Layla and Sadie made a mad rush for the house when they arrived, while Chris grabbed the luggage and ran in behind them.

“Daddy, now can I give Adie her present?” Layla pleaded.

“Take your bag to your room, let Sadie help you unpack. You can give her your present while you’re in there.”

The two girls made way for the bedroom. Sadie retrieved Layla’s dirty clothes for the laundry, while Layla dug for an envelope. Adiewas scrawled across the front of the photo envelope in Layla’s handwriting; Sadie smiled and took out the paper folded inside.

“Is this us?” Sadie asked, her heart swelling with love.

Layla nodded. “That’s me an’ you an’ Daddy! With the sunflowers. See?”

Sadie looked at the picture, unable to stop her smile. In the picture, the three of them were holding hands, and each one had a red heart on their shirt.

“It’s ‘cause we all love each other,” Layla said, pointing at the hearts.

Sadie held the picture to her chest. “I’ll treasure it always, Layla. Thank you, so much.”

Together they finished unpacking the suitcase, then Sadie tucked the picture safely away in the nightstand in the guest room, under Layla’s close supervision.

“I thought you two went to bed!” Chris teased. “Who wants to watch a movie?”

“Me!” Layla replied, jumping up and down. “Can we have popcorn? And get pizza?”

Chris exchanged a look with Sadie, who shrugged. “I suppose coming back from vacation is a good time for a movie night. You got it.”

“Yay!” Layla cheered, dancing around.

With a little more convincing by the five-year-old, every pillow and blanket in the house was constructed into a fort-type structure for them to watch movies. While Chris went into town to get the pizza, Sadie helped Layla with her bath, got her into pajamas, and braided her hair. Sadie braided her hair as well, got into a pair of sweats and a tank top, and kept Layla busy until Chris returned.

They only made it through a portion of the first movie before Layla was asleep between the two of them. Chris picked her up and tucked her into bed, returning a few minutes later. He put his arm around Sadie’s shoulders; she tucked her head against his chest.

“Missed you while you were gone,” she told him.

“Missed you, too,” Chris said, laying a soft kiss on her lips. “Up for another movie?”

In truth, Sadie was feeling tired, but to be there cuddled with Chris in a pillow and blanket fort – she would never be tired enough to turn that down.

Part Twelve

[tyrusweek]

Last Dance by @green-lemonboys

The music was too loud for Cyrus’ taste, the beat too heavy, the atmosphere too crowded. But he pushed his discomfort to the side, trying to actually have a good time there with his friends. Of all places, he hadn't expected a nightclub anywhere around Shadyside, but a couple years away did wonders to a place. It was still the small town he knew, just not as small as when he had left for college. More people, more houses, and more establishments, one of which was the new nightclub.

“Are you having fun?” Andi yelled above the music, barely audible. The lights were flashing, multicoloured illuminations of people at various points in their lives, some lost in the music and twirling alone, some enveloped in another's arms, some clutching onto a drunken dream.

“Too soon to tell,” Cyrus yelled back, smiling at his friend who was swaying to the music. Andi laughed.

“It'll grow on you” She said, grabbing his hand and dragged him back to the dance floor. Soon, Cyrus found himself caught up in a dance battle with Buffy and Marty, one he was inevitably going to lose, but he took part anyway, dancing until his head spun and his throat scratched.

“Okay I'm parched, I'll be at the bar guys,” Cyrus said, making his way to the bar and ordering a gin and tonic. Not his regular choice of drink, but a reliable one anyway. As he waited for his drink, Cyrus scrolled through his phone, smiling at the texts from George, who had to go home to his parents back in Nevada. Cyrus shut his phone off, planning to text back as he was leaving. He nodded at the bartender as he handed him his drink.

“Cyrus?” A voice said from behind him, and Cyrus froze. He knew that voice. He had loved that voice years ago. He turned around.

“TJ.”

He looked good. Actually, that was an understatement, he looked as good as he always had, which was heart-stopping. And the low lighting did wonders for him, not that he needed it. His eyes shone, a smirk on his face, taking Cyrus back all those years, back to weak-kneed crushes and stolen kisses in high school classrooms.

“Didn't know you were back,” TJ said, leaning against the bar, calling for shots of tequila. He raised an eyebrow at Cyrus, asking if he wanted any. What could go wrong? They were friends. Friends who had been in love and had broken up before leaving for college, something that had broken Cyrus’ heart. Friends.

“I just came yesterday. Visiting parents, you know?” Cyrus replied, downing his gin and tonic, moving closer to TJ.

“So, how's everything?” TJ asked, looking over at Cyrus with an unreadable expression.

Cyrus shrugged, sensing how easily their conversation fell into its usual stride. “Same old life. Nothing interesting ever really happens to me.”

“Oh now, with you already being interesting, life can't keep up,” TJ said with a smirk.

Cyrus couldn't control the blush that spread across his face. A fact that hit him with a sense of dread.

“What about you? TJ Kippen not having an interesting life would be so out of character,” Cyrus said, raising an eyebrow.

TJ laughed, sending Cyrus’ heart jumping just like it used to. “Well, I'm just taking a year's break to help out my mom and dad, so I'm working in the store here. So, boring life. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Just then, the bartender put two shot glasses before the two boys, each filled with tequila, salt and lemon in reach. They went silent, but the tension was anything but. Cyrus and TJ stared into each other's eyes, both unable to look away. All the emotions from where they had left off 4 years ago were resurfacing, but both were reacting to that in completely different ways. TJ saw a second chance, a chance to get back the one thing he regretted letting slip through his fingers.

But Cyrus saw an obstacle, a vortex that would lead to him falling away the life he was living at that moment. But the pull was strong, magnetic. And he was holding on just by his fingertips.

TJ picked up the shot glass, holding it towards Cyrus. “To us.”

Cyrus glanced between TJ and the glass on the bar, his mind warning him that everything he was doing was a bad idea. But he was caught up in the way things used to be. That was the only reason he picked up the glass and clinked it against TJ's. “To us.”

He downed it, wincing as it burned his throat, relishing the way it made him feel. He needed to steel his nerves for the rest of the night, wherever it led.

Cyrus set down his glass again, feeling TJ looking at him, with that mixture of amusement and some other indiscernible emotion. Cyrus could nothing but stare back. It's all they were doing, and yet it spoke volumes. Eventually, TJ took a deep breath and asked, “Wanna dance?”

“Umm,” Cyrus said, looking at his phone to check the time. He noticed texts from Andi and Buffy, saying that they were going home, making promises of meeting again. George had sent him another photo. Bad. Idea. “Sure,” He replied, pocketing his phone as he followed TJ into the crowd.

As the reached the dance floor, the song has changed into ‘Baby’ by Clean Bandit, Marina and Luis Fonsi. Cyrus closed his eyes and let the music wash over him, his mind going blank. He could feel TJ standing in front of him, swaying to the music too. It was only in that state that Cyrus heard the lyrics and his eyes snapped open.

It was about a person who met an old flame and they fell into their old ways. But they were someone else's baby.

The universe loves cruel irony.

As if on queue, TJ smiled at Cyrus, moving closer to him. “You aren't dancing well.”

Cyrus scoffed, trying to calm his racing heart. “Oh really? And you will show me?”

TJ looked at him intently, grabbing his hand and pulling Cyrus to him. “Maybe I could.”

He shouldn't be liking this, Cyrus thought in vain as he melted into TJ's touch, letting TJ guide him through the dance, his hand holding onto his waist as he moved with him. The space between them was growing smaller and smaller, and Cyrus could feel himself panic. So before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I have a boyfriend.”

TJ stopped short, his grip on Cyrus loosening. “Oh?” He whispered, his voice tense. But he didn't pull away completely. He couldn't. And Cyrus what that felt like.

They were silent, still swaying slightly, TJ holding Cyrus’ hand and a hand on his waist, neither looking at each other. Unsaid words filled the non existent space between them, so much so that nothing could be said, all they could do was be there. Finally, Cyrus looked up at TJ, his heart in his throat.

“Cyrus, I-” TJ started, but Cyrus shook his head, wrapping his hands around TJ's shoulder and moving close to him, resting his head in his shoulder.

“Let's just dance for this song,” He whispered, moving to the music, as he felt TJ's hand wrap tighter around his waist. Cyrus moved his head up to press his cheek against TJ's, shutting his eyes as he let himself bask in the feeling that hit him like a train. The memories of him and TJ.

The swings. The park. School. The Spoon. The bench in Andi's garden. The ice cream parlor where they had most of their dates. And TJ.

“I wish I met you in a different place and time. Maybe it would have worked then,” Cyrus whispered into TJ's ear as the song died down, his eyes squeezed shut as he pressed a quick kiss to TJ's cheek. He opened his eyes, backing away from TJ, their hands not wanting to let go of the other, their fingers trailing after the other. TJ looked small before him, but he looked Cyrus in the eye as he backed away. As their second chance was left behind among the strobing lights, trampled under the stomping and jumping feet.

Cyrus had not expected tears, but his eyes were filled up as he left the club. He pulled out his phone as he left the club, the pounding music muffled behind the walls. He pressed ‘call’ before he could think twice.

“Hey babe. Yeah, I had fun. But I think clubs aren't my scene,” Cyrus said with a smile as he walked away, turning back to get one last look at the club.

It was hard to let go, but what could he have done?

He was someone else's baby now.

[neo-nymph]

The Truth Untold

..Genre: Romance

Themes: Mythological!AU

Member(s): Jimin

Word Count: 2,196

A/N: Guess whose parents surprised their daughter with a laptop for Christmas and can now do even more writing over winter break ;)

"Hades wasn’t the man the tales had made him out to be. The stories around his name painted a portrait of an unforgiving, sadistic man filled with nothing but hatred for the worlds that existed around him. To mortals, he was the proud image of a perfect nightmare; the epitome of all things any human with common sense would know better than to challenge. To the Gods, he was a forgotten lowlife who deserved no place in their highest palace, and no title but among the souls he guarded in the underworld. The connotations that circled his name had lasted thousands upon thousands of years, and yet it only took me a few encounters to understand the truth untold."

I found him in a vacant tower of the grassy hills I often escaped to, those which still graced their innate purity, isolated from the greedy hands of mortal beings. The serenity could be heard in the passing of winds against leaves in bushes and trees, it could be smelled during sunrise the morning after a gentle rain, and could even be felt when fingertips brushed against the velvet petals of daisies. The vacancy of the building was displayed by its old and dirty nature, vines growing in between the cracks of the aged and broken stone it was made of. Despite its obviously portrayed age, the tower stood grand with pride, trying its best to graze the clouds as it leaned to one side. Few could find beauty here, but the grace of the garden that surrounded it brought life to this old soul.

I'd come here ignoring the warnings and complaints of my mother regarding the dangers of the outside. I loved my mother dearly, but I couldn’t help the pulling desire to escape from her overbearing clutches, always trying to constraint me from basking in the light of the days star. Since I was born, she’s tried her best to keep me hidden from the outside, paranoid at the idea of my being corrupted or taken away from her by tainted souls. Despite her attempts to paint the world as cruel and frightening, I was drawn to the places she tried to kept me away from. I craved the feeling of the cloud like grass on my soles, to feel the burning of the sun light on my skin, smell the scents of the blooming spring and look for shapes within the clouds. So, when the chances presented themselves, I sprinted after them.

And this, the serenity of the garden that ignited the flames within me, was why I could never understand how such a world could be anything but beautiful.

The scent of the bunches filled my nose delightfully. The soil was soft and cold between my toes, and the leaves of the bushes gentle on the pads of my fingers as they dragged along to feel the blue rose petals. I felt as if I were in a trance, oblivious to the chirping of the birds, my picking of the flowers, and, for a moment, the feeling of someone's eyes observing my movements. Curious to find the source of such a feeling, I doubtedly looked towards the towers window, and caught his gaze on me.

If not for my better judgement, or the white of the mask he wore, I would've believed he was a being-less shadow, or perhaps a trick of the eye. His body was just distinguishable to contrast from the dark of the room he watched on from. He stayed motionless as I looked upon him, waiting for a comment or gesture to be made, but he remained as still as a stone. Such an encounter should have felt awkward or unsettling, but my mind, instead, registered him as another mystery of the world I couldn't help but feel a pull to discover. I stood frozen below him as I gazed on curiously before my attention was stolen away from the window as the still air was brutally filled with the dull noise of my mother calling me home. Just as a true mystery, it only took a few moments of ignorance for him to disappear when I turned to search for him again.

--

Months dragged along since the first day I saw him. I found myself venturing back to the hills as if by instinct, hoping the shadow would present itself again. To my dismay, the figure left behind nothing more than the blue roses I'd come to adore. So, to provide a dull satisfaction to my desires, I picked the flowers to admire at home on the days that I could not escape to venture the hills.

After a year, my hopes had already been tucked away in their graves, finding no purpose in waiting for something which no longer existed. I did, however, travel back to the garden now and again to take in the still serenity of the hills. Often I laid in the grass, tracing imaginary shapes and figures of the fluffy white clouds sitting in the sky, or reading with the rustling of the trees to break the silence. It was just as the day I first saw him, tranquil and isolated. Laying on the ground I bathed in the sun, eyes closed as my skin absorbed the warmth of the day time star, until a figure blocked the the flaming sphere from reaching my eye lids.

He stood dressed in a dark cape that covered his body from shoulders to toes, still dawning a white mask concealing his identity from my sight. At his entrance I rose to my feet, driven by curiosity to understand the mystery that plagued my mind for so long. The garden remained silent, the pair of us standing only a few feet apart as a soft breeze blew between us. I wished to ask for a name, but my body was filled with unwelcome butterflies that I feared would fly out if I parted my lips. A few moments passed before he raised his hand out to me holding a rose I’d never had the blessing of seeing until now. The white petals shined brightly as flakes of gold drifted off of them, a stem of vibrant jade standing firmly in his grasp. The beauty left me captivated, my hand slowly, unconsciously reached forward to take hold, my mind and body left helpless under the flowers spell. I’m not sure how long I stood fixated on the plant in my hands, but when I lifted my head, he was gone, and my mother was calling for me again.

Everyday for a month I went to see him. We walked through the hills together, smelling flowers, listening to birds, watching the sunsets. He was gentle when he held my hand, kind to me as he listened to my stories and my dreams, and patient as he taught me about the animals and nature of the hills I loved so dear. Most days I was with him, I would forget about the existence of the world outside of our own. The marks of mankind, rules of narcissistic gods, paranoia fueled imprisonment were all extinct in the hours I spent with him each day. Only the pure tranquility and beauty of mother natures design existed with him. This world that I resided in with him was the same as the world I spend so many days constructing in my daydreams on these hills, sinfully praying I could one day find in reality. This masked man was the escape I awaited to chase in my bedroom. He was the mystery I longed to discover, and the untainted soul I had begun to believe no longer thrived. He was the dream I’d held onto for so long, and in his hands my heart would soon come to rest in.

One day, as we sat beneath an oak tree, enjoying the sweetness of berries and fruits, I build up the courage to ask the question I feared the answer to. I was careful in my motions as I prepared to force the words past my lips. For months the wonder plagued my thoughts, momentarily ruining our tome together, but only for a second before his presence turned up the corners of the mouth again. I pondered the possibilities, attempting to find my own answers, but finding none logically or worthy to be true.

“...why do you still conceal yourself with a mask?”

Partly to my joy, and partly to my dismay, he seemed unaffected by my question. Rather, he finished consuming the red berry in his hand with his head slightly lowered towards the ground, seemingly avoiding my proposal. I waited beside him for a nod, a gesture, anything, too scared to ask again and cross a line I couldn’t see.

“..does your heart hold a space for me?”

My brows flexed and my head tilted at his inquiry. Carefully I laid my hand on top of his own upon the grass. “Is it not obvious?”

I stared at the side of his face as his eyes looked beyond us. The breeze was gentle as it played with the strands of his hair, tossing small, dark, pieces across the white of his mask. The beating of my heart became ever more noticeable as I waited for a response, the beat hard and steady against my ribs, filling my ears to distract from the feeling of anxiety bubbling at the pit of my emptying stomach. Beyond my command, my fingers gripped his that seemed to grow colder as the seconds passed. 

A sigh left his hidden lips before he spoke, “Whatever feelings you believe you have for me may not remain when you come to find my identity.”

If there were any words left to be said, I was unable to find them. I didn’t know what could be said to calm his fear, no matter how irrational I knew it to be. My mind was blank as I scrambled to find something to say, and I knew each second of silence on my end was another second of a festering anxiety on his. So, I decided if words wouldn’t speak, I would let actions do so instead. Lifting myself from the cushioned ground, I placed myself comfortably on his lap, my thighs settled on either of his while my hands held his face to look up at mine. I took the moment to cherish the warm feeling that came with looking into his eyes before my fingers found the edges of his mask, lifting it away slowly.

The plastic covering fell from my grasp as the air was taken kindly from my lungs. I knew the stories of this man. I’d heard them time and time again from the Gods. I heard the about the hell he wished upon the heavens and the earth. I was told of the nightmares he cursed humans to see when their eyes closed, and the torture he provided to the souls he guarded in the hell he created. I knew the stories of Hades, but I couldn’t dream to believe them now.

The setting sun left his skin softly glowing gold, just like the flakes of the flower he presented to me the day we met, standing out perfectly against the midnight shade of his hair. Looking into his eyes now was like drowning blissfully into a pool of honey. I couldn’t help the desire to drag my fingers across his gracious features, or stare longingly at his fluffy, pouting lips. I looked to his eyes again and found a sadness I knew too well. The welling of emotion in his eyes was like that of a child, built on the basis of purity and innocence, fueled by the simple fear of loneliness and the unknown. The pain in his honey eyes was the last strike I needed to spark the flame inside me, to push me to plant my lips on his. His cold hands crept up from my hips, to my waist, crossing along my back as he tightened his grip on my body. The force of his plush lips on mine caused a heat to flush on my cheeks and my chest. The gentle touches he graced me with before were gone now as he pulled my burning body against his own as if he were scared I would float away. I could feel the steam from his body radiate to my own as the friction between us built with rushed movements. My hands pulled at the hair at the base of his neck while his forced my hips down to rub against the lump in his pants. My lips parted from his as a small whine of desire ghosted from my mouth. When I looked to him, the honey colored eyes he once adorned were replaced with dark golden orbs with pupils blown wide. Both our chests heaved as our lungs chased for the breathes we’d stolen from one another. His voice was raspy when he spoke again,

“Come home with me.”

Again, as my mind drew blank, the still air was filled with the sound of my mothers voice calling me home. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAVS prt 38 update... Shiro only space dads hard because he cares so much

Lance wasn't doing ok. Physically he was getting better, but as the infection in his chest cleared, surgery loomed around the corner. The procedure wouldn't be performed on the Atlas, but instead on New Altea. Lance didn't want to leave so many things unanswered. He didn't want to be pushed aside and disregarded, which was exactly what felt like was happening. Keith was his main line with the outside world. Shiro dropped by from time to time, sometimes Curtis was with him and sometimes he was. Hunk had come by twice but was acting distant, unable to meet his eyes despite the fact he'd nearly crushed him in a hug as he cried his eyes out over being so worried about him. Shay had shyly come to enquire about his health and wish him well. Krolia had thanked him for his service and thanked him for getting Keith back home in one piece. Even Zak had ventured up to tell him he was an "idiot", but "an idiot that had done a good job". He knew Acxa and Keith's team had come by when he'd been napping, catching the tail end of the four of them talking outside the door... So he didn't know why he felt so hollow inside. Actually. He did. His fight with Veronica. His sister angered that he'd taken such measures without thinking of their family, and without consulting her about it. He couldn't admit the truth of what happened with Klearo to her. He couldn't admit that he'd fucked up from the very beginning then was tricked by someone who he looked up to. Veronica had basically insinuated that he was a burden, who didn't know what he was doing and should have stayed on Earth. She didn't get it. She didn't get to him that being a "burden" was his greatest fear. She didn't get that his drug and alcohol abuse had steadily grown worse, or understand the way he wrecked their family with his mere presence. Keith tried his hardest to help him through his moods and panic attacks, but he felt like he was shackling Keith down with his depression. Keith who still treated him like he was the most treasured person in existence. Keith who said they'd work things out... then left things in the air. It wasn't like he wanted to talk to the ship's councillor... but when they didn't come by his room, he had to wonder if Keith wasn't secretly enjoying him being so messed. The disgusting thought left him unable to look his boyfriend's way for vargas, ultimately serving to hurt Keith when he hadn't done anything wrong. Which he wasn't. Shiro's actions had told him that. No. It wasn't fair to blame Shiro. Keith had desperately needed the healing pod, and Lance couldn't be more relieved that his boyfriend had been healed. He just... felt... insignificant. No matter how he sat or laid, some part of his body hurt. He missed eating real food, being stuck on a liquid diet until after the surgery. He missed being able to move around, and shower unaided. Keith had been granted permission to help him shower. Each of the sticky sensor pads had left bruised behind after pealed off his tender skin. He was losing weight again, and losing his drive. He wasn't ok, and was only getting worse as he was kept waiting, unable to feel like he was being punished for getting Keith in harms way, by not being healed. He got that the Atlas couldn't leave it's orbit over the Altean ship while the investigation was on going, but didn't get why Shiro didn't open a wormhole to New Altea so that he could be put in a pod. Being comatose for a phoeb or three sounded ideal when compared to sitting in a very uncomfortable hospital bed, or trapped in his nightmares all night long thanks to the sedatives Daehra had prescribed to help him sleep through his nightly coughing fits. Lance didn't want to take more drugs. The more he craved them, the more he tried to push them away. He knew it was dangerous to fall back into his bad habits, but these new ones were working for him. They weren't filling up that hole in his heart from being unwanted, or easing the guilt he felt from relying on Keith. Quintant after quintant he was left laying there as it blurred together. To him it was like being left that cell all over again. He was constantly waiting to wake up and find himself being dragged out to Klearo's bed. Or to wake up and find himself still in the outpost, with Keith having been stolen away and cut to pieces. He wasn't stupid. He knew there had to be a network of connections when it came to Kre'el. She was just one woman... A woman he wanted answers from. A woman who'd lied to him so seamlessly and easily that the thought of her made him feel physically ill. None of these symptoms were going to clear before he was forced off the Atlas. Shiro probably didn't want him to ever return. He probably didn't want him anywhere near his team, and it didn't matter how illogical the arguments were for why that was so, his anxieties had him wrapped around their little finger. Shiro wouldn't haven't jumped in to help him, had it been him alone. He knew it. Like really knew it. The voice in his head whispered it over and over, never a kind word directed his way. He was his own worst enemy. With each quintant that passed, he was sure he was moving that much closer to insanity... Sure he was slipping away from the most wonderful boyfriend a guy could ask for. He didn't want to tie Keith down with his mental health issues. He didn't want to keep having panic attacks out of nowhere, and dreams he couldn't wake from. He wanted to be strong for Keith, but had no idea where to begin. * With his arms loaded up with bedding from the Telula and a treat from Hunk, Keith was running late. Daehra was on "Lance Duty" for the morning, his panic attacks so bad that Keith didn't want him left alone. He honestly feared for Lance hurting himself without realising he'd done it, or even worse, being caught up in a flashback and lashing out against someone he loved. Neither of them were really happy about Lance being transferred off the Atlas and out to New Altean, without answers. Lance was going through so much and taking him away without giving him answers was cruel as hell. His boyfriend wasn't reacting well to the news, hence why he'd dropped down to the kitchen to see if Hunk had something chocolaty to lift his spirits, then it was down to the Telula to get Lance a nicer blanket than the one on his hospital bed, back up to the kitchen to collect two chocolate milkshakes that looked like everything Lance wasn't supposed to be having. Lance's was packed with extra vitamins and minerals, but Keith had forgotten which one was which. His mind too busy. With Daehra and Lucteal, who was acting like Lance's personal bodyguard and limiting access to Lance's room, he knew he had the time to rustle up his surprise after a quick check up to make sure his ankle was healed properly... only for Shiro to corner him just short of his end goal. The expression his brother wore could only mean trouble... Opening the door to the room beside him, Shiro had planned to ambush him. The conveniently empty room said as much. Taking the milkshakes out of his hands, Shiro placed them down on the desk by the door, before crossing his arms and giving him his best "dad" look "Something you want to tell me?" "Uh? I was grabbing a blanket for Lance..." "Not about that. Well, about Lance, but something a little more pressing" "Not that I can think of..." Keith was confused. Shiro had that calm anger thing going on, like he was ready to snap, or turn on that disappointed tone. Personally Keith would prefer the violence, but knew Shiro would opt for disappointment because it hurt more. Reaching into his pocket, Shiro pulled out a small vial of shimmering red liquid. Keith's shock was written all over his face as he stared at the vial. Daehra wasn't stupid enough to just leave one laying around... and he had no idea how he was about to talk his way out of this. Opening his mouth, he made a weird kind of squeak before getting the words out "How did you get that?" "When Lance kept refusing painkillers, I watched over the camera footage from his room, and what do I see? I see Daehra injecting this into Lance's IV daily. I've had it analysed Keith" This wasn't his secret to be telling... Shiro had no right putting him in this position "Do you want me to tell you what I found? Or should I have you tell me what I found?" "I... ugh..." "You what Keith? Do you know how dangerous this is! You've known about this for phoebs, haven't you!?" Keith wasn't sure how Shiro pulled off apocalyptic rage that sounded do disappointed. Shaking, he nearly dropped the blankets "What were you thinking?" "Lance..." "Lance what? Didn't want me to know? You should have known better. I told you how dangerous this stuff is. If he has a drug problem, you should have told me immediately. Do you know how dangerous this is? How addictive this is? Do you understand what kind of a situation you've put me in?" Tears rolled down Keith's face and dripped onto the blankets, unable to meet Shiro's eyes "Well, do you?" "Sh-Shiro... it's not what you think" "What I think is that Lance has a drug problem you've neglected to inform me of. Do you have any idea what kind of complications that this could have caused during his surgery?" "You don't understand..." "Then tell me!" It'd been years since Keith had felt the fear that had his heart racing and his stomach flipping. The fear that came from parents or parental figures... dropping to squat, he buried his face in Lance's blanket, breathing in his scent as he tried to calm down "Then I'll go ask him..." "No!" "Then start talking. Does Coran know? Is this the secret you've all been hiding from me?" Keith shook his head. Yes, it was a secret, but not that one "You don't understand... what he's been through" "What's that supposed to mean?" "I can't... Shiro... it's not my secret to tell" "I'm sick of hearing that. This stuff could kill him. Is that what you want? Lance dead?" Falling back onto his arse, Keith shook his head "He could have died on the operating table" "Shut up!" "Keith, tell me what's going on!" "They got him addicted to it! They kept him drugged up while they tortured him! We... he... we left him alone... he was doing everything he could to forget... we've been... working on... bringing him off of the drugs. He's been making progress... then this happened. He doesn't want to be dependant on them. He doesn't want to..." Breaking down into sobs, Keith felt awful. Another precious secret gone up in flames because of him. Gulping for air, Keith hugged the blanket tighter as he rocked "We were working on this... he was getting better... you had no right..." "Keith..." "No! Don't you dare! Don't you dare... He's my husband, of course I knew about it. Of course I was helping him with. Of course he was trying to get past it... You have no idea how bad Earth was for him. He feels like he broke his whole fucking family... They kept him on this stuff... and... he doesn't want to be... he doesn't want to take them... that's why he wouldn't take more medication. He knows he has a problem, but you can't even trust him! You couldn't trust that Daehra understood. She didn't know how bad those injections were... not until... until after... I came. He couldn't cope, Shiro. He felt like none of us wanted him... he still doesn't feel wanted. This was his case and you're sending him away with no answers. He was working hard out here... only to be betrayed" Angered, Keith didn't realise the slip of his tongue calling Lance his "husband". He couldn't stop crying "I don't want him to die... I don't want him to die... he's my whole fucking world... Coran... we... would have talked to him... not where you could find out. All he's wanted is your respect. He... can't see how amazing he is... because he feels so inferior to everyone..." Keith hiccuped "He's falling apart because of this... you don't know what it's been like for him..." "Lance could have reached out for help at any time" "No..." "Yes. He knows we would be there" "No he didn't!" "Keith, you need to calm down for me" "How can I do that!? You just accused me of wanting him dead!" "I..." Keith knew Shiro pushed because he worried for the pair of them, but that didn't mean anything. He'd well and truly crossed a line "I'm sorry. But you can understand how much of a shock this has been" "It wouldn't have been a shock if you could just trust people..." "He has a drug problem" "And we were dealing with it" "What if something had happened?" "Like what?" "Like he hurt someone when he was high" "It doesn't work like that. Lance doesn't get violent without a good reason" "Are you saying that as his partner or as his friend?" "Both. He's in so much pain all the time... we've been working so hard to get though things" "And that fight you had, where he left, was that to do with this?" Keith shook his head "That's between Lance and Krolia. As far as I know, she and he have talked" "You've still left me in a tough position" "It doesn't have to be. You're sending him away anyway..." "I'm not sending him away. I'm transferring him so he could have surgery and finally go into a pod" "Something you couldn't have done sooner? You couldn't have shipped Kre'el off to Altea?" "No. You know that as well as I do" "It feels like according to you, I know nothing. It's not my first time around drugs, Shiro. You know what those homes were like. You know you can't do jack shit to help anyone who doesn't want help. He asked for help" Sighing, Shiro moved to squat down across him "You know I care about both of you. I'm just shocked that you didn't come to someone who was more experienced to get advice and help for him" "I talked to you. I talked to Coran. I talked to Krolia. I even talked to Lance's mum. But none of you could tell me what I needed to know. How could I betray his trust like that? He needs safety and stability. He needed to get his feet back under him" "I'm proud of you for trying to help him, but you're not trained in these kinds of things. Frankly I don't know if I can continue to let Daehra treat him when she's been giving him such a dangerous substance. I love you both, and all I want is the best for Lance, but you understand that these secrets aren't helping him, or helping me to figure out how to help him" "Shiro... please..." "We're both going to have a little talk with Lance about this" "You can't" Keith's heart was breaking. Lance was going to be torn apart by this. He was already depressed as it was. The conversations they did have were never about what happened, Lance steering away from the topic every time they nudged it. If they weren't talking, Lance wanted to cuddle... but his husband would stay silent for vargas at an end. He'd been so focused on getting Lance through the surgery and then into some kind of counselling that he hadn't foreseen this kind of a speed bump.

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Chris! You’ve been accepted to play Violet Costello. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: THIS WAS LITERALLY PERFECT. Everyone please read this and scream with me. The ending. I can’t even pretend to be professional right now. BYE. - Admin V

CHARACTER DESIRED

Violet Costello.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

Violet has always excelled, and while she never thought she’d excel at something like killing people, that wasn’t what was the real shocker about her profession – it was that it’d been so easy for her to abandon the morals her parents had instilled in her from birth. She never imagined she’d spend her adult years taking the lives of others. She most certainly never imagined she’d love it as much as she does. It releases the pressure, a pressure she’d never even knew she needed to release until she’d met Leon. Violet had always been the perfect young lady: intelligent, well-mannered, and with enough spirit to not let it tie her down. She could also be carefree and spontaneous – a side of her she never truly got to exercise until she’d moved away from home. Her mother insisted upon college, her father insisted upon her following her heart, both of them insisted she at least make something of herself. And she did. She just didn’t tell them exactly how.

When it comes to Leon, and what could be called one of her biggest failures, putting It’s Complicated as their relationship status would be an understatement. He makes her blood boil, not just because he pisses her off, but because Violet still has feelings for him, as much as she’s tried to strip them away. It’s why she’s refused to be in the same space as him, knowing full well she might find herself faced with the very feelings she’s trying to ignore. She knows it didn’t work out, she knows it was time for a divorce, yet they haven’t even signed the papers yet, and Violet isn’t entirely sure she wants to. She isn’t sure their relationship ending wasn’t just the result of naive youth. At the same time, she knows she doesn’t want to stay tied to this toxic relationship and she absolutely doesn’t want their relationship to put a strain on her occupation. Leon is a huge part of why she got to where she was now, and Violet will do whatever necessary to make sure they family knows that she doesn’t need him to stay where she’s at, or to climb even higher.

Violet has always had her mothers ambition and her fathers creativity, two assets that have served her well in her position among the Costello’s. Ruthless. Innovative. A problem solver. All she wants now is to succeed, to prove she is worth all the time they spent on her, and to show how much more valuable she can become.

As for the wedding, well, she’s with the general population when they say it’s probably a bad idea, but it isn’t her place to question Marcel, and the upcoming nuptials somehow seem far less stressful than the prospect of seeing her ex. As long as she keeps her head screwed on straight, as long as she keeps doing what she’s best at, as long as she doesn’t let her ridiculous emotions get the best of her, she’s sure she can and will excel.

WRITING SAMPLE

Just because a wedding was around the corner, didn’t mean Violet had any less work to do. Their entire world was a chess board and she had some pawns to move — if by move you meant obliterate completely. Anything that got them closer to checkmate, that was her purpose. The brunette was perched on the bar stool closest to the exit, eyes trained on the man who appeared to be her target. She hadn’t done the reconnaissance; Abel and Kai had taken care of that. All she had to go off of was an outfit and hair color, an uncommonly vague description given that she was here to kill the man. The only true defining factor was a room number. Worst case scenario, if she couldn’t spot him, she could just pop up to the room. Easy fucking peasy.

Violet didn’t question — it wasn’t her job to ask questions, just to follow through with the orders. She reveled in the pleasure that was snuffing out someone’s light, even more so now with family tensions making a room so thick you were sure you’d suffocate before the night was over.

So she watched. She watched him finish his drink, watched him toss down his payment, watched him gather himself before departing for the elevators. And she followed, despite the nagging feeling in her chest, despite the way this room, this hotel, felt like one of those tense family gatherings. Violet almost had the urge to dash out the automatic glass doors to suck in as much fresh air as her lungs could hold.

— - Then she saw him, saw exactly who she’d been sent here for, and she didn’t think she’d be able to make it to the doors if she tried.

There, standing before the elevators, was an all too familiar face. The chiseled jaw, lips turned down into a permanent frown, and those green eyes, those fucking eyes that made her feel like they could burn down the world together. The very ones that never failed to send a shiver down her spine and always drew her in, even when she tried her best to look away. Leon.

It didn’t make sense. Why? Why would his own family order this?

What had she missed? How was she supposed to this? Why her?

Her balance faltered, forcing her to press her back against the cool marble walls, eyes closed as she forced her breath to steady. In and out. Out and in. One, two, three…

All the way to fifty.

Get it together, bitch. Isn’t this what you dreamed of?

———————————

“Fuck you, Leon!” Violet spat, shooting daggers across the room at him as she stuffed clothes into a duffel bag. “Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“I didn’t. It’s what you said, isn’t it?! Along with how you’re never gonna look back. So fuck off. Don’t look back. I know I won’t.” Leon returned her venom and she could feel the sting.

She would for months, doing her best to ignore the swelling left in its wake. “Oh don’t worry, I won’t.”

——————————

Violet did her best to reach out to Abel, and then Kai, unable to wrap her head around why their cousin would be her mark. All she got in return was a simple: It is what it is. Just get it done. And so she would. She went up to his floor, sucked in a deep breath, and knocked on the door to his room. Violet was a knot of nerves, trembling under the surface and gathering in her throat. So much so, she could barely get a word out when Leon answered the door.

So she didn’t.

Instead, she delivered a palm to his throat, forcing her way in and kicking the door shut behind her. Leon only took a few moments to compose himself, immediately launching himself at her, his fist making firm contact with her jaw, filling her vision with a flash of light, causing her to falter and fall against the bed. It wasn’t just the hit. It was him. He made her falter. And within seconds he was on top of her and not in the way she used to love so much. His hands were on her throat and she was taken back to all the times they fought, when she had felt just like this, only he hadn’t even needed to use his hands. Hell, he hadn’t even needed to use his words. He’d always been able to steal her breath away, whether through love or anger, and now, now it was entirely possible she’d die from it. Her mouth gaped open as she struggled for air.

No.

Violet promised herself Leon wouldn’t be the end of her and it was a promise she intended to keep.

There was a clock on the bedside table, and Violet stretched her arm to reach it, fingertips brushing against the plastic, edging it closer and closer until she was able to wrap them around it and bring it down on Leon’s skull. It wasn’t enough to really injure him, but it was enough to give her the space she needed to turn the tables. Now it was her on top, her delivering the punch, and her with her hands on his throat.

Don’t let up. Just do it. Just fucking end it now.

Click!

Violet knew that sound — it was the safety of a gun, followed by someone clearing their throat. She released a heavy sigh, reluctantly peering behind her to see who’d stolen the advantage. “What?”

“Hey babe,” Leon’s voice bounced back at her, gun aimed at her face, “Thought you said you’d never look back.” And before she could look at the man underneath her, before she could piece together any of it, to understand what the fuck was going on, he pulled the trigger.

Violet awoke, her chest on fire as she gasped for breath, a mass of glistening limbs tangled in damp sheets. Of course. A fucking dream. A fucking stupid, clichedream about her stupid, cliche marriage, and her even stupider fucking feelings. She tried to see the time, neon numbers blurring into focus: 2:43AM.

She’d never get to sleep now.

When she got up, she caught sight of her wedding ring on the dresser. “You’re an idiot,” she muttered to herself, and with a furious growl, she swiped her hand across the surface, sending everything, including that ring, onto the floor.

[littlemissgeek8]

Okay I just wanted to say I love your dnd art like so much!! It’s amazing!!! If you don’t mind me asking, can you summarize what you’ve done in your campaign with Jemima Appleblossom so far? She’s so cute and I would literally die for your PC

Aww!! Thanks! It’s always a joy to run into people who likemy characters! :3 I can totally give you a summary of our campaign thoughunfortunately it is 30 episodes atthe time of writing, with 31 going up later today, and I was unable to shrinkit to a reasonable size. I’ll put it under a cut to save on people’s dashspace, and I’ll also put links here for the youtube playlists in case there’sanyone who’d like to watch it instead of just reading about it. XD And for anyone interested in the series, this recap will catch you up in time for today’s episode to go out!

For those not wanting to read through all 8,930 words ofthis, TL;DR: “Ragtag group of adventurers get pulled into another world wherethey find themselves rubbing elbows with gods, fighting monsters, makingfriends, reviving demigods and unwittingly unleashing some massively dangerousthings onto the planet. In between accidentally dying a few times.”

[Ghostwolf] [EscoNitz] [CriticalHat]

Well, we started off in Parnast, sent by our individualfactions to investigate a missing wizard. My halfling bard Jemima is a Harper,same as our other bard, the human Gineye. Our other party members included Lei,the Tortle Paladin, Zuradar the Tiefling ranger, Lilystra the half-orcbarbarian and Zareem, the Aasimar warlock (who works for the Zhentarim, theonly other faction I remember.) On our way to find the missing wizard, we raninto a bunch of Kobolds who attacked us, but one Kobold --with distinctivewooden legs and one arm-- was trapped inside a cart by his own people and gaveus some assistance. When we finally found the wizard he was in the process ofsummoning something that turned out to be a Water Weird, which subsequently atethe whole party, ending the first session.

We woke up a week later inside an infirmary, which we soondiscovered was in an underwater city—the water weird didn’t just eat us, ittransported us basically to another dimension far away from Faerun. Seeing usas adventurers, one of the triton soldiers from the town we woke up in took us upto the surface to the port town of Audio Bay. (I might be spelling it wrong,sorry, I don’t have good notes this far back.) There, a dwarven merchant namedJonah gave us a quest to track down some missing gear that was stolen from him,a quest which lead us to a well with a Zhentarim symbol on it (surprisingly,since none of our factions exist in this dimension) and inside said well, weencountered a “dungeon” of a dubious nature filled with hobgoblins and bugbearsin leather armor and chain shirts. (Yes it was a kink dungeon, no I don’t wantto remember much about it. XD) After thoroughly stomping everyone involved, aminiscule orc calling himself “Bob” entered the room, shouting at us forhurting his people (whom he then revived with no effort at all.) We told him ofour mission and he agreed to let us take the stolen weapons back, along withgifting us a mysterious box filled with magic coins and a magical shield to ourpaladin. It wasn’t until later that we discovered that “Bob” was actually thegod of slaughter, not until after Zareem managed to roll a natural 100 and hithim with an eldritch blast.

As we left the dungeon, we were greeted by a pack of strangelooking wolves and a tall, blond man in a black coat who asked us to give himthe weapons we’d retrieved. He wouldn’t accept “no” for an answer, nor did wehave much time to try convincing him that we’d been assigned to collect thembefore our hair-trigger warlock decided to cast Charm Person on this newcomer.Unfortunately, the man was carrying a Staff of Charming and nullified the spellbefore it could affect him, before wildshaping into an earth elemental andproceeding to do his best to squash us. It wasn’t until Zareem and Zuradarmanaged to capture one of the “wolves” who turned out to be another druid thatthe man relented, changing back and calling off his friends. He admitted hisactions were hasty and together we traveled back to Jonah’s store with thestolen weapons, where it was revealed that the weapons were a special orderfrom the druid himself, Edan. In return for the weapons, Edan financed someupgrades for our group through the organization he works for (including a sweetring for Jemima which changes her vicious mockery from a d4 to a d6.)

The next day saw Edan taking us to an open air market on thedocks to shop around for supplies, before taking us to a tavern and treating usto lunch. (It was a pretty low-key session though there was a lot ofnon-story-important horseplay.) At the tavern we ran into the druids we’dfought the day before as well as a familiar face: Hanzi, the Kobold with thewooden limbs. While we ate, Edan mentioned that the druids, Hanzi and himselfwere all from Faerun originally and offered to let us join the organizationthey were working with when they went back to their base at the end of themonth. Shortly afterwards (after Jemima spent some time performing for thetavern patrons) Edan left the tavern, citing a “call” from his celestial parent(which Jemima immediately recognized, due to her own bardic master having beenan Aasimar as well.) Before they could pursue, the party was given a quest toinvestigate something in the tavern’s cellar, which turned out to be a wholeton of giant spiders (and a lot of screaming from Jemima) as well as a mimicwhich had taken the place of a box intended for Jonah.

As we returned to Jonah’s shop with his shipment, a heavystorm had started rolling in off the ocean, and after checking in with Jonah(and asking him if anyone would have been trying to kill him by sending him amimic) we headed out to the courtyard to find Edan standing by a scorched areawhere several lightning strikes had taken place. One of the lightning strikesleft behind a glowing orb that turned into a box which he quickly pocketed andrefused to tell us what it was, but we learned some troubling information aboutthe how though the portal we’d come through was a common occurrence, somethinghad interfered with it and kept his organization from closing it on time. Afterthings nearly came to blows between him, Zareem, Zuradar and Gineye, we allheaded off to prepare for whatever the next day would bring and eventuallysleep.

The next day was stormy again, but we set out with Edan anda few others to the docks, hoping to stave off whatever horrible thing wasapproaching the town from the portal in the ocean. Almost immediately, Edanflew off towards a monster out in the ocean, leaving us to deal with a largenumber of minor water elementals who did a good deal of damage before welearned we could destroy them by damaging the summoning circles they came from.Meanwhile, Gineye (with his Special Eyes) noticed “Bob” and several cloakedfigures watching the proceedings from the air nearby. As we defeated theelementals, a massive bolt of lighting shot from the storm over the ocean,right into the monster Edan was fighting, killing it and throwing Edan’slifeless body onto the docks nearby. Jemima tried in vain to use Healing Wordto revive him, only to be shut down by someone sending her a clear mentalmessage that she was wasting her time. Soon afterwards we found ourselvesfacing the same Wizard we’d been sent to find, who had merged himself with thewater weird. The battle was short and fairly one-sided as we all charged himbefore he could do much, eventually leading him to attack Lei one-on-one.Nobody’s entirely sure what happened but the wizard disappeared and Lei learnedhe could shoot a beam of radiant energy from his mouth.

That concluded, the realization of what happened to Edan hithome as a few of us tried to go over to him, only to be stopped by two of thecloaked figures Gineye had seen. One, a massive bugbear went to solemnlycollect the body, while the other (a skeletal form we couldn’t see well) tooksome glowing orb from Edan’s head before leaving. We’d managed to save thecity, but we’d lost a friend in the process. The next week was spent helpingthe city rebuild from the attack, though for Jemima it was a week of privatemourning and a grim realization that the fairy tale heroics she’d dreamed ofwere only a fantasy in the face of harsh reality. Then, we were called in toJonah’s again, only to find “Bob” sitting there, along with a large box and thedruids we’d met earlier. He gave us a mission we couldn’t really reject—travelwith Jonah and the druids to take the mysterious box to a town calledSylvenstand, checking in with a few towns along the way. When asked why hechose our group to do this, he admitted that we’d been specially requested, orrather Jemima had been requested for this job and it followed that everyoneelse would come too. In addition, Jemima was given three gifts—the owl-headedStaff of Charming that Edan had used, his bag of holding, and Bob’s holy symbolon her wrist as a sign of protection. And so, the group set off cross-countryto Sylvenstand in an enchanted cart with a box they weren’t allowed to touch(or let anyone else touch either, save for one contact they were told to meet.)

Their first destination was Flatol, where they were sent toinvestigate some reports of some strange goings on. This lead the party toinvestigate a crypt, one decorated with symbols and writing praising Orcus, andinside we found the necromancer that we’d been sent to find who almostimmediately trapped us into seeing our worst fears, but before anyone couldreally dwell on them, the Necromancer himself was murdered by the thingconjured up by Hanzi’s fear: a terrifying shadowy cleric. The battle thatensued was brutal, with us trying to defend against the cleric’s powerfulattacks or healing each other as best we could, but in the end the nightmarecleric was defeated. However, the cost of fighting him turned out to be Lei’slife, for the killing blow on the cleric sent our unconscious paladin into hisfinal death saves (Thanks, Zareem for not moving your Shatter spell somewhereelse.) However, instead of outright dying, a glow surrounded him, bringing himback but without his hard shell and with a much longer tail. The coins we’dreceived from “Bob” on our first meeting with him had each bonded with one ofus and this was the first time they’d revealed their powers: saving the bearerfrom death but bringing them back with a change or two.

We ushered our now semi-naked Tortle back to the cart andprepared to move on (though not until after a horrifying lunch in which ourTiefling nearly petrified several people with some of the dishes he’d made and did actually petrify himself for a shorttime.) Then, we moved on to Glens, the next town on our journey. TheNecromancer we’d run into had gone to Flatol from Glens and we were informedthat another necromancer had been in town as well, along with a frighteningbounty hunter who was hunting him down. Our search for clues turned up little,but as we all went to meet up in the town square, a huge hulking barbarianleaped down into our midst, wielding a massive axe. We weren’t much of a matchfor him, until Lei managed to grapple him, giving Gineye a chance to use a boltof petrification he’d picked up earlier. The Barbarian failed his save hard,turning to stone before our eyes, but as Gineye removed his hood, a familiarface stared back—Edan’s, thoughframed by dark hair instead of blond. Needless to say, Jemima didn’t take itwell, and we carefully moved the petrified man back to the cart to be restored.Before we left, however, the axe the barbarian had been using decided to attachitself to Gineye, revealing itself to be not only cursed but sentient as well.

A cleric who was currently traveling with us managed torestore the barbarian, and a conversation later revealed that he was not, infact, Edan. He introduced himself as Ivan the Lucky, a bounty hunter who hadbeen chasing down the necromancers we had run into, and he’d been working longenough to have a solid reputation, so the chances of him being Edan withamnesia or something was extremely low. However, we couldn’t let him leave asone of the jobs in our contracts was to investigate the grisly murders in Glensand there was a good likelihood he was involved somehow. So, with Ivan in towwe headed off to the next town, Crance, which was currently embroiled in arebellion of some kind. However, we had to stop there to meet up with acontact, and since we weren’t given a description of the contact we had tocross our fingers and hope we found him. A couple of men in a tavern claimed tobe the people we were looking for and agreed to come back to the wagon inexchange for some help with a situation they were in. It was only after givingthem the information we had and letting them inspect the box (which thankfullythey didn’t tamper with) that we found out they were not, in fact, our contact,but a mysterious half-orc in town might be. They were with the resistanceagainst the tyrannical government in the area and they directed us to a guardshack where the half-orc and some of their own people were being held.

Our group headed over there and found the guards to besurprisingly easy to defeat, and in the cells were a group of heavily injuredresistance fighters and one massive, angry owlbear. The half-orc however wasnowhere to be seen, until we headed to a room in the back. There, we found himstanding over the corpse of the head guard, pulling a knife out of thestill-warm body. The distinctive red teardrop tattoo on his face marked him asthe person we were searching for, since it matched the mark Jemima had receivedfrom “Bob” at the start of our quest. The half-orc, Grug, followed us back tothe cart to properly inspect the box and pay us for the tasks we’d alreadycompleted, but took an immediate dislike to the currently sleeping Ivan. Heexplained that Ivan was Edan’s Alternate—somewhat but not quite the same personborn in another dimension, though many differences in environment and home lifecan lead to wildly different characteristics, jobs and lives. He then warned usto keep Ivan away from the box, stating that it was dangerous to have himaround when Edan was in such a “weakened state.” Yet again, Jemima freaked out,demanding to know what he meant by that before Zareem completely stopped theconversation by boasting about how Bob approved of him b/c Zareem had managedto hit him. In a fit of rage, Grug dragged Ivan’s sleeping body away andunleashed a bunch of monsters on us, since pissing off a paladin by boastingthat you’d hit his god is probably the worst idea ever.

Once the monsters were defeated we raced outside after Grugand Ivan, finding Ivan yet again possessed by Gineye’s axe as he’d been thefirst time we fought him. After getting the axe back from Ivan (which sent thelarge barbarian back to sleep) we turned our attention to Grug and the animatedswords he was currently attacking our cart with. A few near deaths later, ourfight was interrupted by Grug vanishing and “Bob” appearing in his place,demanding to know what was going on. Thankfully we were in our rights to defendourselves and “Bob” admitted that Grug was overzealous and a huge problem forhim, but he was obligated to keep the half-orc around due to Grug’s familyconnections. Still, Bob fixed our wagon for us and decided to travel with us toSylvenstand, stating that he couldn’t just teleport there due to the nature ofthe place. A few days of travel later, we reached the woods surroundingSylvenstand, a dark frightening forest that seemed to twist and move around,confusing travelers who dared venture into it.

Which is when we ran into the dinosaurs. About halfway intothe forest we were stopped by a dead end and a voice demanding to know why wewere there. When we explained our mission, the voice told us we could only passafter it had “tested our mettle” upon which an allosaurus and a swarm ofdeinonychus showed up. The battle was surprisingly long, made worse by thearrows being shot from an unknown source deep in the woods. However, thedinosaurs eventually backed down, but not until after Jemima heard a veryfamiliar male voice saying the phrase “You can do better” before their woundswere healed. The fight over, we trooped back inside the cart, following theAllosaurus (named Sharp) to the secret town of Sylvenstand.

When we arrived, Jonah took the mysterious box away, whileour group accompanied by “Bob” went to a building built into the massive treein the center of town. Before we could turn in our quest, we checked in with aman at the front desk by the name of Eldon. It was he who finally explainedwhat exactly it was we had been transporting all this time—Edan’s body,magically preserved and warded to prevent decay so that a reviving ritual couldbe performed once his soul was reclaimed. Then, we were ushered upstairs intothe massive tree to an enormous room where a humanoid figure seemingly made ofwood or possibly completely encased in wooden armor sat. Seeing as it wastechnically her quest, Jemima was chosen to speak for the party, turning in theletter they were sent with as well as being given a bag of coin to be dividedamongst the team later. Lei’s divine sense however, picked up the massive amounts of divine energy comingfrom the figure in front of them, as well as noticing the oak leaf symbol onthe man’s chest. Though the contract said we’d been sent to report in to a mannamed Tay’rados, there was little question that the true originator of thequest was none other than Silvanus, the god of nature and druids himself.

After some impromptu shopping at a small bazaar in town, weheaded off to the temple district to meet with one Captain Taylor who wassupposed to be able to help Zareem with a mysterious mark he bore on his chest.Captain Taylor agreed to help on the condition that we spar with him, anexperience none of us were quite prepared for, as he turned out to be anextremely high-level paladin who was pulling his punches. Midway through thefight, having taken a decent amount of damage, Taylor grabbed Jemima beforereaching an arm into her bag of holding, coming up with a purple coin that she’dnever seen before (she’d been getting small trinkets including a bag of dragonbone from Edan’s bag over time, but never seen that coin in all her searching.)Again, Edan’s voice chimed in with the phrase “You can do better” as Taylor’swounds began to heal. In an almost uncharacteristic display of kindness, Zareemhelped her get the coin back and to keep Taylor from taking it again, Jemimadropped it down the front of her shirt with a glare. Then, taking the staff ofcharming she’d inherited from Edan, she stormed over and slapped him deadbetween the eyes, shouting at him “How dareyou touch my things?” only for Taylor to shout back “How dare you take mybrother’s things?” When the fight finally ended, she confronted him about thosewords, discovering that Taylor (who is, in fact, the real Tay’rados and thenext in line to take over for Silvanus) wasn’t kidding about Edan being hisbrother, and the coin he’d taken was an Ioun stone that Edan had obtainedduring one of his many travels. The voice she’d been hearing was simply theHealing Word spell he’d kept inside it being activated.

After our sparring match ended, Tay invited us to join himat the local tavern for drinks to celebrate Edan’s approaching revival, thoughnot before we returned to the large tree building to answer a few questionsabout the wizard we’d fought back in Audio Bay. That was where, after the armorthe wizard had worn attached itself to Lei, that the wizard hadn’t justdisappeared that day, he’d been stowing along in Lei’s brain the whole timewithout anyone knowing. He hasn’t shown his hand yet, but the eventual effectsof this are unknown. Then we trooped off to the tavern, Lei and Zareemintending to party and have a good time, Zuradar and Gineye picking a fightwith a time-manipulating satyr who’d magic’d away some of our gear earlier (wegot it back thankfully) and Jemima meeting a nice man who gave her a book oncreating a Guard Drake from dragonscale (which she conveniently had thanks tothe bag of bones and scales in Edan’s bag of holding.) The party lasted allnight, though most were passed out before it got too late, particularly Zuradarwho was the first out after he failed to seduce an elf lady two times in a rowand left to drink until he couldn’t remember anything.

The next few days were less eventful, mostly everyone havinga bit of downtime and resting up, preparing for the next phase of the revivaloperation: retrieving Edan’s soul from wherever it had ended up. The owlbearthat we’d encountered in Crance had been put into a crystal by Grug fortransport, and thanks to Eldon, it was healed (though it had to be magicallyde-aged to save it) and given to Zuradar as a companion under the name Pip.When the time came for the expedition to set out, Jemima made sure our team wasinvited, since she desperately wanted to be able to save Edan. The expeditionwould leave Sylvenstand through a portal that had been set up over the last fewdays, though the endpoint was unknown until the portal was actually opened,bringing with it a group of dimensional “police” who wanted to know why we hadopened a portal onto a plane known as “Lunacy.” Tay seemed visibly distressedat the mention of that location, but in the end we were permitted to pass,providing he didn’t come with us (astipulation he didn’t challenge at all.) Armed with a glass jar with a locatingspell cast on it, we headed off into Lunacy.

The jar lead us through marshy woods until we came upon ascene of grisly carnage. Two hags had been torn apart along with a shambling moundor two, and as we approached we saw the one who had caused such destruction: acreature seemingly formed of wood with a featureless wooden mask. Immediatelythe jar Jemima was holding began to glow and vibrate, but just as quickly thecreature melted away into the ground, causing the jar to go dark again. Afterwe were set upon by another hag (and discovered that the damaged Weave on thisplane made casting spells a risky chance that often triggered wild magic tohappen) we continued on, the trail having been picked up again by the jar.After some walking we came upon a small tavern, the inside of which was emptysave for a lone barkeep in fancy eveningwear. He offered to give us informationor magic trinkets, and explained that the creature we had encountered, the“Beastmaster” was keeping him trapped. Our whole party was sure it was a trap,with the notable exception of Zareem, who made an agreement to smuggle a blackshard out of the plane in exchange for a magic sword and an axe.

Thoroughly disgusted at our companion, we continued on untilwe came to another clearing. As Zareem dashed across the grass towards a gate,the ground turned into more shambling mounds which proceeded to attack theparty. Midway through the fight, a large bear with a wooden mask lumbered in,attacking the mounds with us. However, once the mounds were destroyed, the bearturned towards us instead. Jemima had already put together that the jarresponding to both the Beastmaster (whose mask looked shockingly likeSilvanus’s) and the Bear (one of Edan’s common wildshape forms) were somehowconnected to Edan’s soul and she was reluctant to fight until being remindedthat druids change back from their wildshape forms after losing all their HP.When the bear finally fell, it morphed back into Edan, before dissolving intodust with a cry of distress, causing part of the jar to light up. This spurredthe party forward, towards the next location. There they ran across Eldonagain, who had followed them into the plane. He was badly wounded butsurrounded by corpses, including one giant spider wearing a wooden mask.Another piece of the jar lit up as Jemima approached it.

Then, Gineye managed to spot something across a nearbylake—on an island in the center, strapped to a cross-like structure, was Edan,or at least his soul. Coming from his body were five tendrils, two of whichwere rapidly dissolving. Using the teleportation that he had gotten from a wildmagic surge, Gineye teleported over to the island and summoned his axe, usingthe soul-collecting power of the axe to free Edan by having him slice off thetendrils. Edan’s soul disappeared, along with the fragments in the jar and theBeastmaster across the lake, but as soon as he’d done that, a massive shapeappeared in the distance. Sensing danger, Gineye returned, driving us all torun with Eldon in tow, back to the portal we’d come through.

The giant creature, which revealed itself to be a Terrasque,chased us all the way to the portal, eventually parking itself right on theother side of the portal but very much within striking range should we try toescape. Then, it revealed itself to be the same person Zareem had made a dealwith--the one who had marked him with the symbol of Vecna—itself an old andpowerful Primordial. It offered to let us pass as long as we kept the guardsbusy enough for it to escape, since the plane was rapidly dissolving around usas the weave unraveled. We agreed, while secretly planning to alert the guardsonce we were through, and escaped through the portal. The dimensional “police”were on hand to help, and drove back the massive claw that came through, butdespite our efforts, a tiny portion of the creature broke off and disappeared.Still, we had what we had journeyed for and after relinquishing the axe to Silvanus,so that he could extract the soul, we nervously awaited the revival itself. Wewere graciously allowed to be present for it, and the process went surprisinglysmoothly for all the trouble we put in. Upon waking up, groggy and disoriented,Edan asked for his bag which Jemima unquestioningly returned. However, insteadof keeping it, he simply took out the wooden box from the month prior andopened it, revealing a deactivated Void card from the Deck of Many Things. Witha glare he turned to Silvanus, telling his father to try harder the next timehe wanted to kill him before storming out of the room (just in time for Gineyeto return from searching the town for a saxophone in order to serenade Jemima’sreunion with the man she was clearly crushing on.) Gineye’s return lead to anembarrassment-fueled brawl, culminating with the party members involved (sansZuradar and Zareem who had left to talk to Jonah again) waking up the next dayin the infirmary.

When the party reunited in the tavern the next day theyfound out about a list of jobs open to them, now that they had been acceptedinto Mantle, the organization based in Sylvenstand. The party was very excitedover an upcoming tournament (though Jemima had her eyes more on the Bardcollege which nobody even looked at twice) but Gineye demanded they go to thecapitol city Paplus first, upon seeing not only the capture of the resistanceleader they’d encountered in Crance, but also a name he recognized—Lord Darius,a man he’d known before we first met up who seemed to be somehow connected tothe scars Gineye hides under a porcelain mask. As we geared up to go, we askedEdan if he wanted to come along, which he agreed to do, as he wanted to get asfar away from Sylvenstand and his family as possible.

The furthest we could travel by portal was to Paplus’sneighboring town StoneHelm, a two day’s walk from Paplus. Once the journey byportal was completed, Edan took his leave, stating he would be taking the jobat the Bards college there, though the party (save for a heartbroken Jemima)were too busy making plans for marching order and cooking arrangements to evennotice. A days walk later, they set up camp, dividing the nighttime watch intoshifts. During the second shift, after Jemima had bedded down for the night atthe end of her watch, a group of drow appeared, demanding Zuradar tell them thename of the halfling in the nearby bedroll, and at her last name ofAppleblossom the drow attacked, easily subduing the sleepy party and cartingthem off.

We awoke in darkness, with our arms and legs bound, with theexception of Zuradar who had been inadvertently untied by his owlbear Pip, andZareem who instead found himself in a nice room as if he’d been invited as aguest instead of kidnapped. It wasn’t long before the drow returned, removingtheir blindfolds and walking them out of their cells to a large central roomwhere they saw Jemima trussed up and suspended over a fire, and a hooded man atthe end of the room. The man demanded Gineye be brought forward and demandedhim to take off his mask or risk Jemima’s life. Grudgingly, Gineye complied andthe man removed his own hood, revealing the face of a man Gineye had worked withbefore during a similar rebellion back in Faerun, Tiberius. Like many of the peoplethey’d met, Tai had found his way to this world as well and joined the currentrebellion due to his own curiosity at how similar it was to the one in theirown world, even down to the blonde lady behaving shockingly like Gineye himselfhad done. A betrayal from within their ranks had gotten her caught by LordDarius’s forces, and the traitor in question happened to be the reason theywere captured in the first place—they were searching for a young halfling manwith the last name of Appleblossom who was known to use polymorph spells withthe aid of an enchanted broom. Alternates again, the party realized as theygrouped back up.

As we had found our way not only to Paplus but the rebellionwe were supposed to aid, we found ourselves tasked with helping them take downsome high-priority targets. Namely, we were sent to investigate a guard house(since trying to talk a gnomish inventor into helping us without copiousviolence was sadly not anywhere close to our forte.) Inside we found no guardsat all, but instead a massive iron golem guarding the place which we wereforced to fight after the attempts to bluff our way past it failed. With sometricky maneuvering (and a hand grenade), Gineye managed to deactivate the golemand we entered the captain’s office. Our suspicions were on high alert when theguard captain’s voice didn’t quite seem to match his body, but before theErinyes possessing him could do anything, Gineye petrified the captain with acrossbow bolt, then shattered the resulting stone form to prevent the Erinyesdoing more harm.

By the time we returned, the other team had safely securedthe inventor who was currently very clearly possessed himself. After a gooddeal of fooling around and failed attempts at exorcism using the Command spell,Lei realized that as a paladin, he could perform the exorcism himself. With theinventor finally free of possession, he demanded we shut down the factory thathad been making the golems and mechanical enforcers for Lord Darius, butinsisted that we not harm Darius when the time comes for he was in fact, a goodman. The revelation that the revenge Gineye sought would be deflected by yetanother Alternate did not go over well.

So, we set off towards the golem factory with Gineye leadingthe charge, revenge still smoldering behind his mask. When we arrived, thefactory seemed deserted, but when the guard dogs that came out of a few nearbykennels turned into hellhounds, and an ice devil dropped in from above, werealized we were in trouble. The battle, though brief, was tough, painful andlikely made worse by the absence of help from Zareem (who spent all of his timeattempting to get one of the hellhounds to trust him in an attempt to keep it.)Meanwhile, the ice devil managed to get inside the mental world Gineye used toconverse with the spirit of his axe and begin to corrupt it, leading to Gineyebeing unable to get back in. In a desperate bid to regain control, he demandedLei kill him, hoping that the soul trapping powers of the axe would give him aback door and a chance to find “Axey” again before his coin revived him. With aheavy heart, Lei and Zuradar complied, using their own weapons to kill theircompanion.

Gineye fell, then disappeared, reappearing shortly afterwardsacross the room, but something was very much different. Instead of the cheerymask he wore, there was a more sinister one with a jagged smile and a sinisterred glow from his eyes. As it had several times before, the axe had taken overGineye’s unconscious body, puppeteering it into using all of its abilities toattack his friends. Hoping to somehow break its control, Lei, Jemima andZuradar threw themselves into combat while Zareem continued to ignore the fightand attempted to gain favor with the hellhound in the corner. Even aftercalling for help, Zareem didn’t join the fight, stopping only to retrieve anice spear that had fallen from the ice devil’s body and throwing it into a furnace,completing the job of destroying the factory that they had been given.

Meanwhile, inside his head, Gineye was locked in a battlewith a being that resembled a corrupted version of the mostly benevolent spirtwho had helped him for the last several weeks. Assuming (probably correctly,though no confirmation has been given on this point) that this was in fact thepower source of the axe, built from the many slaughtered souls trapped insideit, and having corrupted the actual “Axey,” he sought to free her from thecorruption. A few times her consciousness seemed to flicker, as if his attemptswere getting through, but he was running out of ideas. In one last desperate move,he pulled her into a hug, and when that didn’t work, he used the power of theaxe to summon two spears, stabbing them both through her back and into his ownchest, aiming for the coin around his heart.

Back in the real world, the spear tips manifested out ofGineye’s body before they and he vanished again, leaving only the axe behind.The party barricaded the factory and then rested, worried about their friendbut too battered and tired to leave (save Zareem who had done basically nothingthe whole fight.) As they were ending their rest, a figure began to crawl outof the axe nearby, eventually solidifying into Gineye, though mysteriouslywearing the dress his spirit friend had worn. Naturally the team had questionsbut Gineye was evasive and wanted to move on, stopping only to shoo Jemima awayafter noticing that her poking his leg was causing no sensation of touch.

Their mission complete and their party gathered, theyventured forth to return to the rebellion’s hideout, only to find the doorwelded shut and a trail of blood leading them towards the other door and an unconsciousTai. Thankfully his injuries were minimal, but Tai’s story was grim: during thetime they were away, the hideout had been attacked by the robotic enforcersthat Lord Darius was using, but during that time they had made contact with adivination wizard by the name of Monty who was also a transplant from Faerun,one willing to aid them in their cause. Monty had given them a tip, telling thatthe leader of the rebellion was going to be publicly executed the next day, whichhappened to be only hours away now. Together they went to the town square, nowfitted with a gallows and a horde of people gathered to watch the execution.

Something was very much off, however, as the party hid amongthe crowd, waiting for their chance to strike. The man introduced as LordDarius was a far cry older than the man Gineye had known, and something feltvery wrong about the whole scenario. Those feelings were proven right whenGineye was attacked by one of the masked enforcers and the cloak was knockedoff of the “prisoner,” revealing yet another masked enforcer. The crowd ran asour heroes found themselves surrounded by more of the metallic men. Having dispatchedhis own attacker, Gineye used his axe to create a rope and swung over to thebox with the elderly Lord Darius, soon after followed by Lei using his ownmisty step ability to teleport over.

Inside the box, while the old man may have been recognizedas Lord Darius to the crowd, behind him, hidden from the audience, sat a muchyounger man with a stony expression on his face. The same Lord Darius who hadscarred Gineye’s face. Gineye readied one of the many small powder keg grenadeshe owned, but before he could exact his revenge, the two figures flanking theyounger Darius revealed themselves—one, an arch devil and the other, a demonlord. The demon quickly whisked Darius away, while the arch devil took off intothe city, leaving a swath of destruction in his wake. Before long, our heroesfound themselves in the midst of a holy war, with hordes of demonic forcespreviously hidden in the town, rising up to fight an onslaught of paladins, clerics,and other warriors blessed by divine forces.

Flanked by Zuradar, Gineye ran after the arch devil that hadfled from the observation box, but quickly ran into a group of paladins andclerics who were also pursing the same target. Two of the group, marked by thesymbol of the Raven Queen, immediately took offense at Gineye’s existence, callinghim a “filthy undead” as one attempted to smite him with a lightning bolt. AsGineye protested the inhumane treatment (while the gaping hole in his chestproved their accusations correct) a paladin marked with the symbol of “Bob,”the god of slaughter they had met previous, came over and uppercut the one who castthe lightning bolt (said storm cleric looking shockingly like Zareem.) Thepaladin of Bob revealed soon himself to be in fact Grug, released from thepunishment he had been given by Bob, who urged them to leave before somethingworse happened.

The older Lord had been retrieved from the observation boxby the time Gineye and Zareem returned, but as they returned so did the archdevilwho Gineye had failed to catch before. Introducing himself as Bael, he demandedthe old man be turned over. The party refused, attempting to stop him throughcombat, but their efforts proved futile as he simply walked over and took whathe wanted, before disappearing. Through the use of a haste spell and his own paladinskills, Lei was able to track Bael’s movement back to the Lord’s castle, but itwas decided that the party should rest before continuing on. After a short rest(in which Jemima hounded Gineye for a while in regards to his new undeadstatus, one he couldn’t really deny when the gaping hole in his chest magicallypatched itself up) they trooped off to the castle, preparing for a confrontation.

Lord Darius was inside when they entered, Gineye fullyprepared to take him down one-on-one, were it not for the young noble killinghis older counterpart in front of the bard. Remembering the request from thegnome earlier, Gineye used a new spell, revivify, to revive him before whiskingthe old man outside to protect him. Then, as he returned, finally ready for hisrevenge, that moment was stolen from him as a dark shape appeared behind theyoung Darius, taunting the party before snapping his neck and summoning shadowsto attack our heroes. After having fought them once thanks to Grug, the partyknew how to deal with these shadows and the fight was brief, but by the timethey finished the shadowy creature had left, leaving behind the empty husk thatwas once Gineye’s most hated foe.

Gineye was all set to use his magic to revive or preservethe body, but the arrival of a man through a dimensional door stopped him. Itwas Monty, the diviner they’d been told about, who was more than happy to usehis magic to prove that even if Gineye preserved the body, there was no soulleft to revive him. However, Monty was able to speed them along on their waytowards finding the rebellion’s missing leader, as he directed them towards a dungeonarea that his scrying couldn’t see into—which must be the place as he couldfind her nowhere else.

Inside the dungeon lay a maze of traps, pitfalls andsentient doors who kept their rooms locked with riddles. Inside the very last doorin the maze was a set of stairs leading down to a large room, where a strange,sinister ritual was taking place. A number of cultists surrounded summoning circles,two of whom were wreathed in flame, the one in the middle conjuring up a domeof solid darkness. As stealthily as they could, the party slid closer, Gineyemanaging to make it all the way to a door on one side of the room where he cameacross a terrifying sight: the same exact cell in which he had been tortured.

Unleashing the full power of the axe, he demolished the cultistsin a single hail of swords, which left the summoned fire elementals free toattack at will. Again, the fight was short, the most notable event was Jemimadoing her best to attack one of the elementals with the rapier she’d beencarrying all this time—while forgetting that without magical properties to it,the enchanted fire could easily melt it. Rest in peace, rapier, you were loved.Once the fires died down (literally) the team set about investigating the roomand the dome of darkness in the center of the room. Sadly, efforts to dispel itproved fruitless so the party turned their attention towards a mural on thewall, one depicting a multi-segmented circle, each with a crowned creature carvedinside. After close inspection—including noticing that one segment seemed todepict the same tarrasque they had unleashed upon the world previously—the partyguessed the mural was related somehow to the cult they had encountered, worshippingprimordials from the different planes (each of the elementals seemed to bedepicted, along with ones that looked celestial and infernal.) Finally, theygave one last attempt to dispel the dome, finally breaking the spell with awell-placed arrow, but instead of finding the leader inside as they’d hoped,all they saw was a shadowy creature who disappeared in seconds, followed by hermagical cloak which Zareem kept for himself.

As they went to leave, who should they run into but Grug andthe same paladins and clerics from before? Gineye, remembering their reaction tohim, attempted to hide in the stairwell, but the storm cleric (who still lookedshockingly like Zareem) detected him with his own divine sense. As the partyrushed to protect him, Zareem himself squared up, drawing his sword anddemanding that the paladin face him instead. It only took one single mightyblow from the paladin’s mace to instantly kill the already injured Zareem. Therepresentatives of the Raven Queen left, telling the group to keep “theirundead” on a leash, as everyone tried to figure out what to do now. It was thenGineye posed an idea: someone should let him borrow a 3rd levelspell slot. His words were cryptic, but nobody had any third level slots leftafter the long day they’d had, so Gineye lowered it to a second level slot. TentativelyJemima offered him one of her second level slots, and Gineye in responseplunged his hand into his own heart, pulling out an axe and handing it to her,fading into the axe as his mask appeared on her face. From inside her mind, heused her body and magic to cast a spell to preserve Zareem’s body, before the groupset about a much longer rest.

About halfway through their rest, Zareem revived, his coinhaving activated—giving him permanent wings and a new set of powers. Gineye leftJemima’s mind and reformed in the physical world, and after a bit of foolingaround with him trying to mind-hop into Pip the owlbear’s mind that ended withGineye accidentally killing (and immediately reviving) the poor creature, the teamdecided it was time to move on. The war had died down across Paplus, and theirmission was over though at great cost. After delivering the news of the outcometo Tai, the team set off in search of a Gnoll paladin of Silvanus who they weretold had a scroll for them

What they found instead was a mysterious bar—the same barthey had encountered in Lunacy, still run by the extremely shady feeling manwho just so happened to sometimes be the primordial of Earth. Zareem andZuradar both asked to see what goods he was peddling today, leading to Zareemgaining a +1 chain shirt and Zuradar acquiring himself a +2 bow (for only twoof his hit dice, a total “bargain!”). Meanwhile, Jemima found the gnoll seatedat a table and retrieved the scroll from him. The man let them leave afterthat, noticing how uncomfortable the other three were, but with a reminder thatthey could find him if they only looked for him.

Outside the shady bar (which had mysteriously vanishedagain) they discovered that the scroll was a teleportation sigil, but one thatthey weren’t capable of activating. One person however, was, and it took only asingle utterance of Monty’s name for him to appear through a tear in reality,casting the spell that would take them off to the tournament.

After the chaos of a holy war and a rebellion all in thespan of less than a week, the gang was happy to have a chance to settle down andrelax. Once in the tournament building, they had to sign up, either in solo matchesor groups of 2, which lead to Zareem and Zuradar becoming a group (fittinglynamed Heaven and Hell), Lei and Jemima teaming up (as Swords and Chords) andGineye going solo (under the name “The Entirety of France.”) Then, with an hourto prepare, the teams wandered the building, discovering their old friend Jonahhaving set up a merchants stall there. Jemima immediately informed him of theloss of her rapier, relinquishing the melted remains. In return, he gave her asword he’d fashioned from some of the dragon bones she’d given him, a rapierelegantly combining master swordcraft with the sublime beauty of the naturalworld.

Geared up once more, the matches began. Zareem and Zuradarfound themselves heavily outmatched by a pair of orcs. After Zareemaccidentally hit the younger (and far more badly damaged) of the two with acritical hit poison spray, inadvertently killing the orc, the older and moreexperienced orc proceeded to knock both of them out. Jemima and Lei’s roundwent much smoother, against a lizardfolk and a man in a strange leather dusterwho carried what could only be referred to as guns. Despite the strange man’sapparent prowess with his weapons, he managed to score only one hit on Jemimabefore he was knocked unconscious himself, and the Lizardfolk surrendered soonafter.

Gineye’s match however was stranger still. His opponent wasa man who seemed to disappear shortly after the match started, stayinginvisible or hiding behind dust clouds the whole match, but doing significantdamage to Gineye in the process. Finally, angered, Gineye readied a crossbowbolt, striking as soon as he saw the man’s arm clearly. The petrification boltworked perfectly, petrifying the man and winning Gineye the match (though notbefore a contingency spell activated, using lesser restoration on the man whograciously conceded.)

After their match concluded, Gineye left to find his friendsin the infirmary (though only Zuradar and Zareem needed much attention.) In themidst of their conversation, the man he had just fought walked in, joining thediscussion of the fights he had witnessed. He introduced himself as James and extendedan offer to Gineye to meet him for breakfast at a specific tavern the nextmorning. Tired from their battles, the group headed out to an inn to rest. Itwas agreed that Gineye should go to the tavern to meet James the next day (sincethey might be more relaxed if it was just him) while the rest would return tothe tournament location to find out what was going on. The tournament itselfwouldn’t start for two days, and the actual matches were entirely team-based,but since Lei and Jemima both had passed their matches (as well as Gineye) theywere allowed to form a team and invite the two who had failed their matches aswell.

Gineye’s investigation only put him more on edge. Jamesseemed very eager to recruit him away from the others, even offering to “helphim leave” should Gineye need it, in a way that suggested assassination wouldbe involved. He also knew more than he should, particularly about the war inPaplus and how Gineye’s party had come through a portal in Paplus that shouldhave originated north of the town of Tance, the same as another group whoarrived recently (where, unknown to James, the hidden town of Sylvenstand waslocated.) Gineye played along as best he could, mocking his teammates and theirdecisions and offering to send a package later that day that might be useful toJames’ group. However, once he returned, he clearly wasn’t eager to join such ashady group, but instead had Lei send a package over to the tavern—one containingthe Axe Gineye had pulled from his own heart yet again. However, to his dismaynobody actually took the axe while he was there and in fact nobody was home forthe full day, leaving him to sneak out the next night with a pilfered spellbookand a sour mood.

Finally however, the day of the tournament arrived. The gangwas among the first to compete, finding themselves soon in a large arena packedwith thousands of onlookers. In the middle of the arena, a Kenku introducinghimself as Veo Elmwood was acting as the Emcee, introducing first our heroes asthe “NaCl Pain Delivery Service” and their opponents as “The Hands of Nature.” Theparty (and especially Jemima) were pleased to see Edan again, along with hisalternate Ivan, the ranger Alice (whom Zuradar had attempted and failed to seduceback in Sylvenstand) and Leafsong, the Gnoll paladin from earlier.

However, instead of a fighting competition as the party hadexpected, it was instead a series of games and tests of skill, each with a “firstto 3 points” system of one-on-one matches. The actual games were chosen by diceroll, with the first being a drinking contest. Gineye stepped up, certain hecould win with his undead constitution, even against his opponent Ivan, butonce again Ivan’s luck was on his side as he came back with three points toGineye’s two. Next, Jemima found herself face-to-face with Edan in a challengeof pure luck as they rolled dice, each hoping for a higher roll than theiropponent. Right at the last moment, when it looked as though Edan would scoreanother point for his team, Jemima caught a glow around Ivan’s hand for amoment as the dice flipped over onto a natural 1. Finally, it was Lei and Leafsong’sturn, a test of endurance as they were forced to withstand increasingly harderthrown rocks without crying out in pain. In the end however, Lei managed tohold out the longest, scoring another point for our heroes. And as we left themat the end of that session, they were preparing for the next round of combat: atrial by combat, forced by Ivan again using his luck to twist the die to his favor.

And there you are, thirty episodes summarized as best Icould, with deep apologies for not being able to condense it even further. Ihope you enjoy reading it, and feel free to check out our episodes on youtube!

[the-faultofdaedalus]

Tony the Dragon Rescues a Princess

because @ilunabarrean wrote such a good I ALSO HAD TO WRITE GOOD DRAGON TONY

... part one, i guess, because this got WAY longer than expected. Whoops. I have no regrets.

The girl has heard stories, shouted over wine and rum by her father and her friends, whispered between the bitter, jealous queen and her maids, stories of a monster, a demon, of fire and hatred and burning things. Stories about the smell of smoke and blood, stories of children stolen from their beds. Stories of great red death killing whatever it wishes.

She grows up afraid, of sharpness and fire and anger, of hoarded gold and envy, of plated armour and red, red eyes.

She does not grow up afraid of the thing in the myths.

The page tells her stories, too. Stories of a protector, of a guardian, of one as old as the oldest oaks and just as kind.

He tells her of a place that the afraid can find a home.

They’re stories of a beast, yes, with claws as big as a full-grown man and twice as sharp as a sword, with fire breath and eyes as big as her window, but he also tells her of kindness. Of claws used with the utmost carefulness, of fire used to warm, of eyes that understand.

She is 13.

She has never been afraid of the dragon.

She is arranged to be wed in a fortnight.

(read more under the cut)

She writes a letter on the finest paper she can find, draws out every letter with care she never showed in her lessons and seals it in wax. She doesn’t have a stamp, so she improvises, presses her grandmother’s pendant into the cooling wax.

She watches the page, the one who told her the stories, ride west from her tower window.

Three days later, three days of staying awake and looking out over the woods for a sign of something, three days of falling asleep at lunch and getting confined to her rooms due to sickness, he comes.

She doesn’t see his shadow across the stars, she doesn’t hear him land on the roof, graceful beyond his size, so careful that not a single tile is forced out of place, she doesn’t notice him coiling around her tower like a serpent.

She does see when he looks in her window with his great golden eye, and all she can think is that the page was lying.

His eye is bigger than her window.

“Hello, little tinderling,” It says, voice deep, deep like the dungeons below the castle, like the cellars that her father spends too much time in, but warm as a hearth, and one massive claw slips through the window, the letter she sent held carefully in its grip. The seal isn’t even broken, pried away from the paper with care she wouldn’t’ve shown. “You called?”

She nods, unable to make a sound, not because of fear, but because of awe, because she can see the smoke curling into her room that smells like the richest cocoa and wood, because the night guards have not noticed the hill-that’s-not-a-hill, because she still thought him a myth, until now.

She feels, more than sees him shift, sees one massive wing furl up through her other window, fold back into place, feels the gale it causes, despite moving so slowly.

He doesn't say anything more, just watches her, waits for something, a signal or a sign, patient as the ground the castle, not her home, never her home, was built on.

Eventually, after one very slow blink, she takes a breath. “I do not wish to be wed.” She says, and the dragon rumbles something that sounds like mountains moving.

“You wish to leave?” He asks, like he knows the answer anyway, and she hesitates.

“What if I don’t?” She asks, because if there is one thing she knows, it is not to believe empty promises. It is that everything, so small as a couple words spoken out a window in the dead of night, has a price.

The dragon rumbles again, something like laughter, but there is something far too understanding in its eyes. She wonders what could make a dragon this big, this ancient, afraid. “Then I will leave. If you need me, I will always come back. Alway.”

“Ok.” She says, nods, and all of a sudden, she doesn’t know what to do. The dragon seems to sense this, and his eye crinkles up, like he’s smiling.

“Take all you want, child. I have carried heavier than this tower.” He tells her, and she believes it. She’s already packed, the things her grandmother left her, her favourite embroidery and a bag full of thread, brightly coloured and expensive, one of the few measures of excess that she had actually enjoyed. Her favourite books, her sturdiest clothes, a pack full of dense bread and dried meat.

A sword, bare-bones and undecorated, with a simple leather handle. She wraps it in cloth, and ties it to her side.

The dragon waits as she fills her bags, looks around her room, her prison, one last time. She will miss it. It’s the last place she saw her grandmother. It’s the place she learned to read, it’s the place she learned to sew. She will always miss it for those memories. She will never regret leaving it for what it became.

The dragon moves away from the window, lowering it’s massive head, and she takes it for the invitation it is, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the window, bundled in rough clothes more fitting for a stable hand than a princess, her belongings on her back, about to fly away on a dragon’s back.

His scales are smooth, barely sharp at all, and the small spikes make handholds as she picks her careful way across his head, between his horns, to between his wings where there is already a saddle made of soft, warm wool resting.

She can feel him holding very, very still. She’s not sure if he just breathes that slowly, or if he’s taking special care not to jostle her. Either way, she’s not afraid.

The saddle is more like a nest, really, nestled in between two spines, and there’s a blanket behind her that she could pull up over her head, if she wants. She doesn’t, just settles in and looks out over the castle from an angle she’s never seen it from before.

Everything looks very, very small, the dragon’s tail nearly reaching all the way around the walls, and she doesn’t doubt that one of his wings could cover the entire courtyard, if he so wished.

As soon as she’s settled, he shifts, uncoiling from the tower that she once lived in, and turning his head to face her again. “Are you ready, little one?” He asks, and she is. She wants to leave, to fly, to run far, far away from all the things her parents expect of her, and she nods, breathless for all that the air is clear and sharp. His mouth moves into something that might be called a grin had it not had so many teeth, and turns back, rustling like a cat about to pounce, making a noise like a million softly shifting coins. She grabs the spine in front of her, and he launches into the air, massive wings beating once, twice, unfurling like the sails of foreign ships leaving for home, catching the wind and soaring.

She laughs, the sound torn from her chest, delighted and sharp and unexpected, and the dragon laughs too, deep and rumbly like a cat’s purr, the wind cold on her face but the dragon warm beneath her, a pocket of safety in the endless sky, wings pumping like forge bellows, stirring up the air beneath.

She wishes she could see the stars, but it is too cloudy to even see the moon. That is the only thing she would change.

The dragon turns, again, and his eyes glitter in the darkness, like the light of a wax candle cast off an old book. Yellow, and old, and full of stories. “Do you want to see a trick?” He asks, and despite years of her father warning her away from street jesters, clutching her close and his coin purse closer, she nods, giddy and breathless and for once, completely unafraid. “Then hold on, little tinder.”

There’s rope around the saddles, and she ties it tight around her waist, knots she had to bribe the royal ship-hands to teach her. As soon as she’s secured, holding onto the spine in front of her with a white-knuckled grip.

And then the dragon’s flying higher, powerful beats of his wings pushing them up and up and up, and she has to close her eyes as they stir up the clouds. They’re not as soft as she thought she would be, damp and thick and freezing, but the dragon is warm beneath her and the blankets are soft, and she can feel water beading on her eyelashes.

And then it all stops, the air against her face and the wet, the cold, and at another rumble from the dragon, she opens her eyes, and gasps.

They’re above the clouds, and the stars are strung out above them like nothing she’s ever seen before. There’s no black in this sky, shades of blue and purple and everything in between, but not much of that, either, for every single space is filled with stars. “Oh, wow.” She says, and reaches up like she can touch them, if she stretches far enough.

The dragon laughs again, wings spread wide but not moving, just hanging in the sky like snow on a windless day, like a leaf caught in an updraft, still and quiet and between sitting on a dragon the size of a hill, above the clouds and under the stars, she feels very, very small.

It’s freeing, feeling so small, like she’s shedding all of the overinflated importance placed on her from birth, like all the responsibilities and expectations and the entire kingdom resting on her shoulders have fell away and given her a chance to breathe.

“It is beautiful, yes?” He says, and she knows he can’t see her, but she nods anyway, unwilling and unable to tear her eyes from the stars. She knows when he turns to look at her, because he rumbles agian, taking in his tiny burden, her hand raised to the sky like she could steal one right out of the sky. “You can not reach them, little jaybird,” he says, but she doesn’t lower her hand, and despite his words, flies even higher. “I have tried.”

At that, she looks at him, wonders just how far away the stars must be if even he cannot reach them. “Oh.” She says, and he rumbles in agreement. It should be cold, this high, but it isn’t. “Thank you-“ she says, and claps her hand over her mouth. “Oh no!”

The dragon stops so fast its almost comical, half-turning in the air and looking at her with wide, concerned eyes. “What is wrong?” He asks, “Did you forget something? Do you wish to return?”

She shakes her head, closes her eyes and takes a breath, like her grandmother taught her to fight away the chilly feeling in her chest. “No, no, I have been terribly rude, I’m sorry.” She says, “I forgot to ask your name!”

The dragon laughs as he rights himself, continues flying towards their destination, wherever that may be. “Then I must also be rude, because I have not asked yours either, little Bluebell. You may call me Tony.” He continues, a smile in his voice.

“Then you can call me Ella.” She says, and she’s smiling just as hard. “Thank you, Sir Tony.” She says, after floundering for a proper title, something less simple, grander than simply “Tony.”

The dragon’s — Tony’s — wings falter in surprise, and he turns to look at her. She wonders if she perhaps made a mistake. “I am not a knight, little Ella.” He tells her, but he doesn't seem angry, or upset, or really anything aside from confused.

She sits up as straight as she can, puts on her best princess face. “Well, you are an awful lot more knight-like than any knight I have ever known.” She says, wrinkling her nose at the memories, men in unwashed full plate, smelling of sweat and blood and drink, starts ticking off her fingers. “You rescue princesses from towers, you are kind, and brave, and honourable, and I daresay you would not need sword or armour to fight, if you had to.” Tony shifts, at that, and if she thought that something as big as a small mountain could be self-conscious, that is what she would think he was, and smiles. “My knight in shining scale.”

Tony huffs. “I did always want to be a knight.” He admits, and she leans forward to hear him better, no matter that his voice could be heard across the kingdoms if he wishes. “I thought the idea most noble, when I was but a yearling, smaller than you, even.”

She can’t imagine him that small, like she can't imagine the castle as a handful of tents against the sea. It seems wrong, for something so large, so stable, so ancient, to have been small, once upon a time, but at the same time, it gives her hope.

Maybe, one day, she can be important too, important because of how she’s grown, not because of who has made her. “I thought the stories far more entertaining that the reality, I must admit.” He continues, “But all the same, It was a nice wish.” He says, and he sounds wistful. Like if he had been human, he would’ve been a knight, one of the good ones. One of the ones they wrote stories about.

And she remembers the sword she has packed away beside her, a solid, reassuring weight at her side. She scrambles to get it out, and it feels silly, suddenly, a rose thorn next to the dragon’s claws, but she is not wielding it to hurt. Not now, not as long as she is able. She scoots forwards, as far as she can reach in the saddle, and rests the flat of the blade on his left shoulder.

“I,” She starts, projecting her voice the way her mother taught her, weary and bitter and wanting to be heard, puts as much kindness into it as her grandmother did, “Princess Isabella Fawkes, first of her name, granddaughter of Queen Mariana Hart.” She moves the sword to the other shoulder and swallows down a lump in her throat. It all suddenly seems far more serious than she had set out to make it, than she had thought it would be, but she is riding away from home on a dragon’s back, granting one of his wishes using her grandmother’s name. “I hereby knight you, Sir Tony.”

The air is still for a moment, not even his wings moving to stir it, and he turns. “Thank you, little princess.” He says, and she can nearly feel his gratefulness. “I hope I will stay deserving of being your knight.”

“I am sure you will.” She says, and he rumbles a laugh, like he doesn't quite believe her but is happy all the same.

He starts flying again, speeding west, and she settles in for a long journey. She is about to fall asleep when the dragon speaks again. “Thank you.” He says, “Sleep well, little lady.” He tells her, and she drifts off above her kingdom, under the starry sky, on the way to her new home.

[mysteryoflovemyway]

Later Still

And here is some more of my CMBYN fic! Read a little background on the story and the first part here! Hope you enjoy - I will be posting more later on this week sometime :) 

“Your parents are so nice,” Jenny comments as Oliver continues droning on to Mafalda, ignoring us—ignoring me—so blatantly I almost consider yelling right in his face. But I don’t, looking at her with as much honest interest as I can muster. “Are they not joining us?”

They had been the ones to greet Oliver and Jenny at the door. They hadn’t bothered to tell me we would have visitors—these very specific visitors—maybe for better, but probably and most likely for the worse. It was much worse coming downstairs for lunch with my parents and finding my Oliver standing in the foyer with a girl that could have only been brought here by him. To see my mother and my father move away, to flee into the kitchen so swiftly, leaving too much space for me to fill up with uncertain steps and deep breaths and no words that actually held a million. Oliver had cut right to the chase, leading Jenny out to the back patio. I had trailed along like a begging puppy, catching a glimpse of my parents talking with their backs to us.

“They wouldn’t miss a date with la movie star,” I answer with a smirk that creases sad around the edges.

“My mother’s very endearing term for Oliver,” I say, offhanded, when she offers a polite but impersonal chuckle. She looks at him again, as do I, and I know he has grown even more into the la movie star persona without me.

Jenny tugs at the hem of her a dress, no doubt a nervous tick that Oliver finds charming. Her eyes scan the peach, apricot, and cherry trees surrounding us. “I wish I could have grown up in a place like this.”

“And where did you grow up?” I ask, not because I want to know, but because I want him to see me making an effort to know her. I want him to see everything.

Mafalda has retreated back inside by now and Oliver swivels back toward us, his golden hair catching the slight breeze. I am entranced and repulsed, all at the same time, remembering my hands in that hair, my fingers curling softly into his scalp. He closes his eyes for a moment and I know he’s remembering it just the same.

“Upstate New York, nothing special,” Jenny has said, though it doesn’t register until a few too many seconds have passed. Oliver opens his eyes and mine snap back to her gaze as it rests easily on me. She has beautiful owl-like eyes, big and wandering, and I wonder if the longing in mine reflects back at her as painfully as it does inside myself. If it does, she doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t understand it—could never understand it. No one could but him.

“She’s modest,” Oliver muses. He runs his hand down the length of her arm and I itch to grab it away and hold it to my skin instead. “She grew up with Kennedys and Vanderbilts and the like. A real New England catch.”

“Hardly.” She blushes. “I’m not some blue blood, old money debutante. I don’t even own a white dress or boat shoes, I swear. Don’t listen to him, Elio.”

“Oh, I never listen to him,” I tell her and this time I stare right into his eyes. I feel my face grow hot once again but he is the first to break my gaze. I look away, too, as my parents grace us with their long awaited presence on the terrace. I sit between my mother and Oliver, unsure whether I want to kill or be killed by him at any given moment over the next hour or so. I cannot stand so much time together with all of them, all so together that even a stolen glance will be nothing. Not with her right there. Not with that ring right there. Not with Oliver absolutely slaughtering every memory I have of him with bright hot rage. I am so mad at him that it makes me want him even more, so close, so much, so everything. I want his everything that somehow belongs to her in a way she doesn’t even know. How could she ever know?

How could anyone ever know?

“What do you do, Jennifer?” my mother asks then, gesturing with her fork when our plates have been set before us. She could have asked her more but I have little attention toward anyone but Oliver. “Something with publishing, yes?”

“Jenny, please.” She blushes and takes a tiny bite of pasta, barely coiling it around her fork, so American. “And yes, I work in advertising for Random House.”

I tune out their conversation immediately when Oliver speaks, his face leaning toward my father’s, away from mine. I inch closer, if only to show Oliver that I am never not listening to him.

“Where’s the me of this summer?” he asks my father with a glance around the table as if he will find the answer between the basket of fresh olive bread and the bottle of red wine. “I hadn’t heard who you had chosen. Or perhaps my opinion didn’t matter in the selection process.” At this, his eyes find mine and he laughs into his chest like it’s a secret.

God, that laugh. I could spend hours wrapped inside it.

My father laughs too. “You left us with quite a good pool of successors to pick through. I think you’ll be happy to hear who we chose—Pauline Bethesda. She was two years behind you, I believe. She arrives in three weeks.”

Oliver nods slowly with a broad smile. “Pauline’s a good one, Pro. She’ll do swimmingly, I’m sure of it.”

“Swimmingly?” I poke into their exchange while taking a long sip of my wine—which Oliver definitely notices. “Where does a word like that come from?”

“Not apricot all over again. You’ve got Elio in on it now, huh, Pro?” Oliver sighs but below the table his foot nudges mine and my body goes stiff, and then numb with recollected pleasure, though I am still mad at him.

“Elio’s mind has grown as much as yours has in a year, Oliver,” my father says without any knowledge of what has just occurred, though he could easily infer. “He graduated with honors and is off to university in the fall.”

Oliver finally manages to turn and face me fully, impressed at the very least. “That’s right. And you’ll be studying—No, let me guess—literature.”

He beams, too bright and too perfect and too everything—too Oliver. And I become too Elio, unable to be all that mad at him when he does that. Unable to do anything but nod because the words I have are all for him, and only him, and do not come when he beckons them. Because my words, his words, our words only exist when it is just us two. I don’t know when it will be just us two again. Minutes, hours, days—I can only nod until then.

I am near silent the rest of lunch, caught between stealing long glances at Oliver and agreeing with my mother as she drones on about my senior year. Embarrassment creeps into my face on every other word as she lists my achievements and accolades, which are not lost on Oliver. We had spoken on the phone, three months ago, briefly, and I had told him that one of my essays had been chosen to be sent off to an American literary magazine based out of Washington, D.C. He had never heard of the magazine, but promised he would seek out a copy for me. We had talked then like distant friends, no mention of his visit, and it is only now that I wish I hadn’t lumped that conversation into the others. Now I only remembered a few details, mainly because it hadn’t seemed important at the time. More of an obligation of his, to check up every once and a while, to confer with my parents. To prove to me that he still went about living without me. That I was just a small part of his life, and not the all-consuming entirety of it that he was to mine.

Mafalda clears the table sometime later, when my parents have moved over by the pool, smoking cigarettes and reading. When Jenny excuses herself to the bathroom. When it’s been two excruciating minutes and Oliver suggests, loud enough for my parents to hear, that I show him what new project Anchise has taken to down by the river. My father takes off his glasses, pretending—or not—to not notice as we get up from the table and walk, strides matching, around the side of the house. Away from them, and everyone else. Alone.

We walk several steps in quiet and I make a point to stop when we near the gate, the road, everywhere beyond. Everywhere that I showed him. Everywhere that holds a piece of him and me, of us.

He clears his throat, arching his neck up toward the sky. “I’ve missed you,” he tells me. His eyes are squinted, still looking up toward the sun, his sunglasses useless as they hang from his shirt collar. His fingers curl at his sides.

“Have you?”

I am tempted to touch him, every part of him. To lose myself in his oasis. But something stops me—Jenny, footsteps echoing across the front porch. Hair pulled back and a canvas tote bag swinging from the crook of her elbow. Oliver slips on his sunglasses then and looks to her, all but dismissing me in the wake of her unwanted yet unavoidable interruption.

“You’re not going off to explore without me, are you?” She smiles and grabs Oliver’s hand. “Do we drive?”

They both look to me and I stagger backwards as if such a question has forced a bullet in my chest. Oliver knows much better.

“Americanos,” I mutter, making sure they hear me as I turn back for the bikes. They both laugh loudly, vibrating across the lawn, though Oliver’s is the only one I hear.

When I push over two bikes for them and go back for a third for myself, his laugh continues to rush through me, despite the easy peacefulness surrounding us as we climb on and head out through the front gate. I, in front, and Oliver in back. Miles and miles between us. I don’t know if we’ll ever truly be close again.

“To the bookstore, Elio,” he calls out when we reach the piazza.

Again, his later stills in my mind.

To the bookstore, Elio. Later.

To everywhere and nowhere, Oliver. To anywhere—only with you, I would say back.

Only you.

[ritebeforeyoureyes]

Confessions

Ah, please don’t kill me after this chapter! I love you all, I promise!

Masterlist – Plot: Tom is approached by Zendaya’s stalker and Nikki finally voices her opinion on the whole ordeal.

Confessions (Chapter Fifteen)

Zendaya didn’t really notice security as they followed her around. She was so surrounded by friends and family that the thought of bulky bodyguards didn’t seem to bother her. It was all most like transcending back to normality; back to work, staying busy, doing what she loved. Days were spent smiling and having fun and soon, she began to forget. The scars on her knees were healing and seemingly so was everything else. With Spider-Man: Homecoming promotion ensuing, Zendaya got to hang out with her friends and Tom pretty much every day and it was perfect.

But perfection was short lived because as soon as Zendaya began to forget, her creepy kidnapper made his stealth reappearance. With the evidently endless collection of nudes and voyeuristic pictures that this guy had of Zendaya, she didn’t think it could get any worse. Her kidnapper’s words rang fresh in her head, “I don’t want to hurt you.” She was desperately trying to understand it all and she couldn’t. She couldn’t decide on a motive or figure out a conclusion. All she knew for certain was that this guy had an obsession, an obsession that was seemingly penetrating both her and Tom’s lives.

At first, Zendaya had been facing the brunt of the blackmail. All texts and pictures were being sent to her phone and her laptop but now, it seemed her stalker was taking a new angle. After reaching out to Tom the first time, he had seen the change in Zendaya’s behaviour as a result. From the outskirts, Zendaya’s dismissive and blasé behaviour had made it seem like she was going to end things with Tom but that clearly hadn’t happened. So, after kidnapping her and displaying the extent of his power, he knew he was going to get exactly what he wanted; the demise of Tom and Zendaya’s relationship. There was no way Tom was going to sacrifice her safety for their relationship. But, after a few days of idle behaviour, Zendaya’s stalker was starting to grow impatient. Because of promotion, much to his own dismay, he understood that Zendaya and Tom were required to spend time together; he wasn’t stupid, after all. It was the stolen smiles and mumbled comments during interviews that had his blood boiling. From the looks of it, Zendaya hadn’t made any rash decisions to break up with Tom and that was pissing him off. He knew he had given Zendaya a time frame to end things but today, he’d simply added a little fuel to the fire to hurry things along. Realising that the only way to fasten this little plan along was to message Tom, he did.

A message accompanied by a video this time. It was a rarity; the videos. They were hard to obtain and most of the time pretty useless. Nevertheless, this video, the one freshly delivered to Tom Holland, was one that Zendaya’s stalker knew would lead to his victory. It was the epitome of voyeurism; a four-minute video that would simulatenously ruin Zendaya and Tom’s careers and their relationship.

“What is that?” Tom had opened the message as soon as the unknown number flittered across his screen. His stomach had dropped because he knew exactly who it was from. Like the first time, Tom had expected some crude or cryptic message, something obviously designed to scare him some more. However, what he hadn’t expected was a video of him and Zendaya; evidently footage from a hacked webcam – footage of them having heated raunchy sex.

Tom’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind taking a few slow moments to register the sight of Zendaya’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she moaned his name in ecstasy. The thought of looking back at them having sex was strangely a turn on, his eyes settling upon Zendaya’s body as it moved aimlessly alongside his own. But as soon as blood surged to his groin, Tom’s whole demeanour changed. Because it was also then that he realised that his mother was standing at his shoulder, staring down at his phone. Just as quickly as he’d grown turned on, Tom was now turned off; mortified actually. “Thomas-“  

“Mum!” Too shocked that his mother had seen a snippet of him having sex, Tom jumped from his seat on the sofa, his pale skin turning an unhealthy shade of blood red jam.

“Please tell me that wasn’t what I thought it was.” Nikki collapsed into Tom’s previous spot on the sofa, her small frame slipping into the cushioned material. Immediately her head fell into her hands, her whole-body trembling in disbelief. It wasn’t that she was naïve, of course Nikki had guessed her son was having sex. He had a serious girlfriend and he spent the majority of his time at her house, hotel or apartment. She’d obviously put the pieces together; the sex wasn’t what shocked her. What shocked her was the fact that there was video evidence of it. Like any other mother, she was protective of her son, but she was even more so knowing that Tom’s career was just on the rise. A scandal like a sex tape scandal would practically make his contract with Marvel worthless. He’d be out as quick as a click of a finger all because he’d fallen in love with the wrong girl.

“Mum, I can explain-“

“No, Tom!” Nikki raised her voice a little, the sound emanating through the gaps in her fingers. “Do you get what this could do to you, to everything you’ve worked so hard for?”

“Do you not think I get that?” Tom’s voice was slowly starting to match Nikki’s volume. He understood the consequences he would have to face if such a video got out and he was going to be prepared for it. He was prepared for anything if it meant that Zendaya was safe and by his side. “It’s not like I made the video willingly!”

“I know, son, I know I just …” Nikki ran a frustrated hand through her short hair, desperately trying to grip onto some sanity. Images of young Tom doing shows in her living room floated into her mind. She could hear his eye pitched vocals as he summersaulted through the open space, his eyes bright with a passion that she had only ever seen in a handful of people. The sight was one that she had grown older witnessing. Tom had a knack for being eccentric and himself and she didn’t want him to lose that. As a mother, she couldn’t sit back and watch it happen after all of the hard work he’d put in. Years of auditions and training had gone into getting Tom to his current position and she wasn’t about to let that go. “I don’t want you to ruin everything you’ve built all because of…” Nikki’s voice trailed off and a sudden tension filled the room.

“All because of what, Mum?” The question was rhetorical; Tom knew his mother was referring to Zendaya.

“You know what I mean, Thomas.” Nikki adored Zendaya, that had been clear from the outset. Even when her and Tom were just friends, Zendaya hadn’t hesitated to be herself. She’d openly introduced herself to the whole Holland family and she’d made them laugh and smile. The girl was classy and talented, the type of person any parent would dream of as a companion for their child.  But in the grand scheme of things, Nikki’s priority wasn’t Zendaya, it was looking out for her son. And her son wouldn’t be anywhere near a nudity or sex scandal if it wasn’t the excess baggage that Zendaya came with. “You know how I feel about Zendaya, she’s a lovely girl but maybe you guys should take a step back, think about things-“

“But nothing, Mum!” Tom was shocked that his mother would even bring up something like this. As much as Zendaya tried to act strong, this whole stalker ordeal was taking a detrimental toll on her and there was no way that Tom wanted her facing something of this magnitude on her own. “This isn’t her fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but it isn’t your fault either and I won’t let this scandal  ruin you!”

“So what, you want me to leave her when the going gets tough?” Tom turned away from his mother, unable to look her in the eye anymore. He felt anger slowly start to boil within him, but he didn’t want to take that out on her. Deep down he knew she was being caring but there was no way he was going to think about ending things with Zendaya. If roles were reversed, he would want her to be there for him and he knew she would be, like he was going to be there for her.

“Think about what everyone at home’s going to think if this gets out.” Nikki was trying to make her son reason with her. If he wasn’t worried about the future of his career, maybe he’d think twice about how the rest of his family would react. Tom was adored by his grandparents and something of this stature would shock them beyond belief. They were the traditional type and something as technologically advanced as a leaked sex tape would be something that would baffle them. “What Dad will think, Grandma and Pops, Paddy! This doesn’t just impact you and Zendaya anymore.”

“Mum, don’t.” Tom was inhaling and exhaling deeply, his chest huffing noticeably.  

“Just think about it, please. Decide whether she’s worth ruining your future over.” Nikki knew dictating her grown son’s decisions was risky, and so she left him with her final words, her voice ringing eerily in his ears.

As Nikki got up and left, Tom exhaled deeply. This was preposterous, it was exactly what Zendaya’s stalker wanted and he wasn’t give the sick bastard the satisfaction of having won. Tom did what his Mum requested and not even after two seconds of thinking about it, Tom had made his decision; he was sticking by his girl.

However, as Tom let everything sink in, he failed to notice a silently sobbing Zendaya in the doorway. She’d seen everything unfold, heard everything that Nikki had to say, and she knew she was right. Tom had a fruitful future and she couldn’t live with herself if she knew was the reason behind it’s premature death.

“Your mom’s right, Tom. We can’t do this anymore.” Zendaya wiped away at the tears with the back of her hand, her posture suddenly going rigid as she walked into the room. Tom was startled by her presence and he jumped a little. His eyes looked at her red puffy ones and he was in front of her in a few seconds, his hands clutching her elbows in an intimate manner. The gesture forced her to look at him, forced them into close proximity of each other and Zendaya closed her eyes. His scent was strong and seemingly it was stimulating the descent of more tears. Tom was so comforting and so sweet for wanting to stick by her, but she couldn’t be that selfish, she couldn’t ruin his future with a scandal as big as a sex tape. “If I’m going down, I’m not taking you with me.”

“Z-“

“No, Tom. I can’t … and don’t make me.” She let her head fall against his shoulder, the tears seeping through the material of his shirt. He let his hand rest against her head, his finger pads massaging the area softly. “I care too much …”

“You’re giving him what he wants! No, I won’t let you do that, I won’t let you end this because some sicko wants it.” Tom was desperately trying to grasp at any part of Zendaya. His hands were running up her arms, cupping her cheeks, tracing patterns across her collarbone. It was like he was trying to make her feel something – anything – to make her change her mind. This wasn’t how it was meant to go … he wanted to fight by her side, not send her into a battle by herself.

“Tom, it’s not forever, just a break-“ Zendaya hiccupped, her hands threading their way into his shirt. She was clinging to him, knowing that this was probably the last chance for her to do so in a while. “Once this is all over we can be us again-“

“No, I won’t let you go into this on your own-“

“Well I’m not taking you with me! I can’t be responsible for ruining your life.” Zendaya grabbed his face with her hands, letting her lips settle against his. Tom didn’t fight the gesture, his lips moulding against hers willingly. The kiss was gentle and slow, filled with the love that the two still clearly felt, both of them trying to savour the taste of each other before it was too late. “I’m sorry, Tom, so sorry.”

After a silence that felt like an eternity, Tom spoke up, “Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

If you enjoyed this piece and would like to help further me and my work please support me here. It is one hundred per cent a voluntary pursuit, your lovely comments and votes are always welcomed too : https://ko-fi.com/D1D072V0