delucadarlingwriting

[delucadarlingwriting]

WIP Wednesday

I got tagged by my dearest @crownleys <3

I'm still in a heck of a writing slump, but I'm chipping away at it with my shorthand practice. My writing is much choppier and stiff, because I'm spending most of my effort in just remembering how to write at the moment. So while this is written out, I plan to mostly use it as an outline, because I do love playing in this AU.

The premise of this AU is Barbie is a...not-quite-Trapper contractor who works on the outskirts of Agency law. She gets captured by Unit Bravo during a mission gone sour, and the scene below is a snapshot of the interrogation. This Barbie is a bit more shrewd, and fully intends to turn her arrest into a job.

I'll tag @eldritchnonsense @agentnatesewell @steamysthings and @swordsandspectacles if any of you feel like it!

#wip #twc #wayhaven #barbara 'barbie' robertson #twc rebecca #as I've gone through this I've found a lot of circular writing #but considering this is mostly for practice with shorthand I'm being a bit forgiving to myself #Thanks again crownleys!!

[delucadarlingwriting]

Hi y'all! I was thinking of doing some special commission offerings for Pride, and wanted to see what out of them all would appeal to people the most. So here's a lil poll!

[This] and [this] are examples of my more realistic style, and [this]and [this] are examples of my more cartoony style! I'd love to know what you all think so I can set up some fun options for this round of commissions. Thank you all so much in advance!

[delucadarlingwriting]

♡ last line tag game. share the last line of your wip and tag as many people as it has words.

I got tagged by @deepinifhell ! Thanks!!

I’ve been practicing my teeline shorthand by writing out some fic in my spare time. Lately I've been chewing on an AU where Barbie is 1) does magic with verbal/gestural components (inspired by this post) and 2) is frequently hired by Trappers for Reasons. Mason and Barbie meet when Unit Bravo busts in on some work she's doing for a local group of Trappers, she tries to magic blast him and...:3c

Here's a picture of the last line I wrote:

Writing hasn’t been the hardest part of shorthand, it’s been translating it all back to longhand. Here's what it says:

It’s all she knows, but surely there’s better opportunities for someone as clever as she is.

This bit is after Barbie's been captured and is being taken back to the Agency. She has no plans to stay captured. She also has A Huge Fucking Ego.

Now, for my part in this game...I'm going to tag...@whirly-wind @agentnatesewell @serenpedac @nat-seal-well @evilbunnyking

#darling writing #twc #wayhaven #darling speaks #wip #tag meme #The fic is very disjointed #mostly because the majority of the work is trying to write in teeline instead of long hand #but I'm having fun with it! I may take the pages I've written out by hand and use them for a future fic project #I really really want to focus on In Search Of before I start anything new though #barbara 'barbie' robertson

[delucadarlingwriting]

Hi! From the prompts, 'reaching out with their hand without saying anything, wanting the other one to grab it' for Barbie and Ava? If it works better for a different pairing, that's fine too, of course. I hope you'll have fun writing

(also, I am *thinking* about the ask you sent! It's such a good one)

Oho okay this is actually very very fun for me, because I love playing Barbie as having no goddamn clue she's attracted to women AND men. She doesn't recognize her attraction to women as attraction, she just assumes she wants to be Very Good Friends with women she's interested in.

Meanwhile, Ava gets hit by that love at first sight shit and doesn't know how to deal with the woman she's in love with...being entirely fucking oblivious. It should make things easier. Should :3b

(book 3 spoilers ahoy)

***

The sun is barely peering through the trees as the SUV pulls back in front of the warehouse. Everyone is dead silent, whether lost in thought or just tired from a night of hard work, Barbie can't be sure. She's not sure where she falls on that spectrum either. Morgan's out the door first, dragging Kira along after her.

"Wait!" Kira laughs. Morgan does not, so Kira turns back and says, "Good night, Babs!"

"I think we know who's going to have the best night out of all of us," Farah says wryly. The burst of levity brings a smile to Barbie's face, despite her fatigue.

"I'm just grateful my room is on the opposite end of the hallway to Kira's," Barbie says with a shake of her head. Nate groans, sinking into the passenger seat.

"I share a wall," he says, already defeated. With the sigh of a man facing a firing squad, he unfolds himself from the vehicle to head inside, Farah rabbiting off after him.

Ava has still yet to say a word or so much as move her hands off the steering wheel. For a long moment the only sound is the tick tick tick of the engine cooling down. Her broad shoulders are rigid, tight. Worse than they were during the odd conversation they had before the auction.

"Ava?" Barbie asks. Ava's shoulders inch up. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Ava interrupts with a bark. She inhales, chest expanding, then lets out a slow breath. "You should get some rest. It has been a very long night."

"Yes," Barbie agrees, sliding across the seat to step out of the SUV. Ava follows suit, falling into step as Barbie picks her way across the path. Kicking off her broken heels had seemed prudent during the auction, but her tender feet are telling her she should have, perhaps, found replacement shoes. Her dress is barely holding together either. Oh well, it's not like Unit Bravo will mind her ragged appearance.

Though, now that she's thinking about that, Ava won't look at her. Barbie doesn't mind a lack of eye contact, but it's very unlike Ava, who seems to find reasons to stare at Barbie every time they're in a room together. She's not being ignored though, that much is clear as Ava stays at Barbie's side when they enter the inviting arms of the warehouse.

Her silent escort doesn't pause when they reach Barbie's room, catching the door and following her in. Barbie can't help a laugh.

"I'm going to take a shower now," Barbie says. Ava blanches. For all her bluster and stoicism, Ava has proven remarkably prudish. It's cute, and Barbie can't help poking at her for it. "You're welcome to join me."

"Excuse me?" Ava sputters. Barbie laughs again.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I meant you could wait in the bathroom while I shower, if you'd like." When Ava doesn't manage another word, Barbie tilts her head. "I assume you wanted to talk? Or chastise me. Either can be done just as well while I clean myself up."

"I suppose that would be the efficient thing," Ava says, sounding impatient. "But no, I would rather...No."

"Alright, then whatever you have to say will have to wait," Barbie says, turning away on the spot, a pang of disappointment hitting her behind the ribs for some reason.

"Wait!" Ava calls. When she turns back, Ava's hand is hovering in midair, half limp, uncertain. Barbie doesn't know why, but she reaches out and takes it, swallowing hard. Ava's hands are wide and strong, but remarkably soft. Almost as much as Barbie's.

For a moment Ava sways on the spot, her piercing green eyes shining with something like agony as she looks at Barbie. It's the same look she'd given her when she begged Barbie not to go to the auction.

"Are you...are you alright?" Barbie asks, barely managing a hoarse whisper as her pulse rushes in her ears. She doesn't love to be touched, with few exceptions, but this isn't disgust or discomfort, no matter how tight the vice around her heart is.

Taking a ragged breath, Ava nods. Then, she does the oddest thing. She lifts Barbie's hand and brushes her lips over the knuckles, split from her adventure in the auctioneer's dungeon.

"Forgive me," Ava says, a bare whisper blowing over her lightly moistened skin. She drops Barbie's hand with care and backs away. "I should go."

"You could stay," Barbie offers, aching for Ava to accept. Ava's jaw, strong and defined, works hard.

Then she leaves, closing the door behind her.

Confusion knits itself with Barbie's brows, her mouth twisting as she tries to figure out what just happened. What's wrong with Ava?

What's wrong with her chest?

A long hot shower soothes the odd palpitations, even if Barbie's mind remains in a whirl.

#darling writing #ask meme #twc #wayhaven #the wayhaven chronicles #ava du mortain #barbara 'barbie' robertson #kira kingston #I really love doing these quick little snippets #obviously things that are edited and polished flow better #but I like being able to just let go and get things out without thinking too hard #it's a nice exercise #esp when I'm still not in my writing groove

[delucadarlingwriting]

grabbing each other's hands in crowds or when crossing the street to "be safe" - for Barbie/Mason, please! 🥰 (~agentnatesewell)

The sun is bright and the hot, damp air clings heavily to every inch of Barbie's body. Even in her sleeveless dress she feels like she's melting into the grass. When Kira had described Wayhaven's annual summer fete, she had known it would be hot and sunny. She hadn't realized there wouldn't be enough tents to escape the heat though, nor had she realized that the fete was such a big deal that people from neighboring towns would be attending as well. The mayor seems more than pleased by the turn out, even as Barbie is doing her best to not scream every time someone jostles her as they pass.

She clings to her condensation covered bottle of beer and her sanity with slippery fingers.

It is beautiful at least. Flowers and greenery cover every surface, and smiling faces can be seen all around. Market stalls have been set up, dozens upon dozens of local artisans selling their wares to eager customers.

Across the clearing, where a dance floor has been erected, she can see Kira and Nat doing a lively country jig, one that Nat was likely around for the inception of. How they can be moving so vigorously in this heat with glowing expressions of delight, she will never know.

A young child bumps her as he hurries to catch up with his older siblings. A flicker of annoyance passes over Barbie; her patience runs much deeper for children. When a careless adult next bumps into her, nearly dislodging her beer, she has to clench her jaw to say nothing despite how it makes displeasure stab up and down the side of her they touched.

"Hey," a familiar and much beloved voice says from her left. Barbie blinks past the sensation, spotting Mason. He doesn't seem to be enjoying himself any more than she is, but last she'd seen he was lingering by the SUV, determined to stay out of the crowd.

"Hello," Barbie says. Mason holds a hand out, palm up, and she takes it. He tugs her closer, looking around for a moment before spotting a clear path through the crowd.

"Let's go." He heads off, leading Barbie along behind him.

Not that she really cares, but Barbie still has to ask, "Where?"

"Away from the bullshit," Mason replies, catching a few dirty looks from parents. She hurries to keep up, wishing for once she hadn't bothered wearing heels.

Part of her wants to be disappointed. She had been so excited to attend with Kira. At the same time, she can't deny that all she feels as the crowd thins out is relief. All the more so when Mason takes them both down a shadowed alleyway, out of the sun. They take shelter from the festivities there, watching at a distance. The beer bottle in her hand is gently tugged away.

"You came just to get me?" Barbie asks. Mason nods. She curves an eyebrow.

"You did it for me," he says. She blinks, and he adds, "At that shitty carnival."

"Oh, right." Barbie laughs, surprised he remembers that. She barely does. Looking back out, she considers the fete. "I thought I wanted to be there."

"You can go back." Mason shrugs, then takes a deep pull of the beer. She's entranced for a moment, watching the movement of his throat as he swallows. Then Barbie's gaze dips down to their hands, still joined together.

"No," Barbie says, wetting her lips. "I can think of better ways to spend my time."

#darling writing #wayhaven #twc #barbara 'barbie' robertson #kira kingston #twc mason #ask meme #quwu

[delucadarlingwriting]

thinking about Jonah and how he carefully budgets his Lego obsession. so I was wondering if any of you guys' detectives also set money aside for 'silly' things??

#reblob #for Lucas it's definitely parts and equipment to work on his cars #for Barbie it's designer clothes and high quality beauty care

[delucadarlingwriting]

The pysical affection prompts -- reaching out with their hand without saying anything, wanting the other one to grab it + Mason and Barbie? Only if you like!

Working with vampires means working outside her comfort zone, Barbie has found. She prefers a warmly lit room with minimal clutter, plenty of pens, her organizer filled with fresh paper, and maybe some gentle, instrumental music. No other distractions. Nothing to do but focus on her work.

These days she finds herself tromping through the damp, dark, and cold woods more and more often. A cool breeze, a sign of the quickly approaching Autumn, bounds through the air, ruffling her ponytail and sliding down the back of her jacket. At least Mason shudders at the same moment she does.

Despite the chill in the air, it's clear he doesn't mind the rest of their mission tonight. He walks through the dirt and undergrowth like he barely notices, silent as the fog that lingers around them.

Together they step through a patch of moonlight breaking through the canopy of leaves above them. The silver light makes Mason glow, kissing his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, his broad chest--

A short gasp escapes her as another damned root grabs at her not-yet-broken-in hiking boot. She stumbles, but manages to catch herself just fine. Irritation distracts her for the next stretch of their walk, until the back of Mason's hand brushes hers.

"Sorry," she says. It's happened a few times now, mostly due to the narrow path and her inability to see very well. Mason huffs, then his hand brushes hers again.

Oh. She squints at him in the dark, but he's looking dead ahead still. Not quite ignoring her, but certainly avoiding meeting her eye. Stretching her fingers out, she finds his hand. He turns his palm, allowing her to tangle their fingers together.

Letting Mason lead her like this makes the walk much easier. His thumb drawing over her first knuckle makes it much, much harder.

#darling speaks #ask meme #wayhaven #TWC #barbara 'barbie' robertson #twc mason #darling writing

[delucadarlingwriting]

I'm really struggling to write the last few weeks, so I've instead been going through some old wips and such. I found the first fic I wrote with Kira and Barbie together in it, but the thing that really interested me was this Lucas/Adam scene I forgot I'd slipped in toward the end.

In this AU, Barbie and Lucas both work for the Agency (Lucas as Unit Alpha's handler, Barbie as a researcher) while Kira is Wayhaven's detective. Adam and Lucas have a past, and they haven't quite gotten through it all.

(I really hope I haven't posted this before)

***

“She’s okay,” Lucas says, his smile bright despite the bags under his eyes and the way he hunches over. The chair he’s sitting in is clearly one of the ones kept in meeting rooms around the facility. Adam wonders if he dragged it over himself, or if someone brought it to him. 

“That’s good to hear,” Adam says. It doesn’t remove the guilt weighing on him, but it does lessen it somewhat. 

Lucas bobs his head. “They say she’ll wake up soon. It’ll be a long recovery. Well…” Lucas gestures vaguely to his leg. “Not that long. A few weeks at most and then she should be up and at ‘em.”

“How is your leg?” Adam asks without really meaning to. Lucas chuckles.

“It’s far from my biggest concern right now,” he says. He straightens up, then leans back against the seat back, folding his hands behind his head. His heartbeat is a steady drum, not the frantic thrashing it had been earlier. “But mostly it’s fine. PT did wonders. I don’t have to use the cane anymore, but I can certainly walk a lot longer with it than without.”

There had been a moment where it was uncertain if Lucas would be able to walk. Amputation had been on the table, but the medics had managed to save the leg through some sort of minor miracle.

Lucas peers at him, a smile tugging at his lips. To Adam it seems exhausting to always be smiling, grinning, laughing, but Lucas does it all like he can’t help himself.

“I’ve missed you, bud,” Lucas says. Adam shakes his head.

“We’ve seen each other recently,” he replies. Lucas snorts.

“Literally in passing while you were getting into a car and I was getting out does not count,” Lucas says. Adam remembers that moment well, and how hard it had been to make himself turn the key in the ignition when his eyes had been stuck on Lucas in the rear view mirror. Shifting, Lucas lifts an eyebrow. “You could also text me back here and there.”

“What am I supposed to say?” Adam asks in a huff. “You send pictures of inane things with no commentary.”

“Hey, that box turtle was neat as fuck,” Lucas argues, but he lets out a laugh. “But I guess you have a point.”

“So you’ll stop?” Adam asks, unsure what answer he’s hoping for. Eyes sparkling, Lucas grins.

“Not a chance, big guy. You’ll just have to suffer gracefully about it.”

Rolling his eyes, Adam puts his hands on his hips and starts to say something, when the door to Barbara’s hospital room slams opens, revealing Mason. He looks at them blankly, while Adam and Lucas stare back in shock.

“You two are loud as fuck,” Mason says. Lucas sputters.

“When did you get in there?” he demands, then more loudly, “Why are you in there?”

Mason smirks. “You don’t wanna know.”

Adam glares at him. “Leave.”

“Sure. She’s passed out anyway,” Mason says with a shrug. He spares a glance back at Barbara, hospital blanket tucked around her sleeping form, then closes the door and strolls away. Lucas manages to pull himself together by then and starts struggling to his feet.

“I’m gonna beat his—” Lucas grits his teeth, snatching his cane up from where he leaned it against the wall. Adam steps closer, hands out to placate him.

“I doubt he did anything to her,” Adam says, no small amount of annoyance in his tone. “He wants to get a rise out of you.”

“He managed it!” Lucas replies brightly. He’s holding his cane more like one would hold a war club than a mobility device. “She’s hurt, in what world does he think any of what he’s implying is appropriate.”

Adam can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips. Lucas whips his head toward him with a scowl.

“I’m sorry,” Adam says. “Do you hear yourself?”

Lucas blinks, and his hackles go down. A small smile tugs at his lips. “Alright, yeah. But it’s different when it’s your baby sister.”

Adam nods. “Then trust that I believe Mason wouldn’t let any harm come to her.”

That seems to shock Lucas enough that he has to sit back down. “You think he gives enough of a shit?”

“I do.” Adam rubs at his chin. Mason’s fixation on Barbara has been long lasting, but it’s clearly more than his usual ‘flings’. The way he’d reacted to Murphy abducting her had been…very different. It’s a side of Mason Adam has not yet seen. Of course, Nat has rose colored glasses on regarding the whole affair, which doesn't surprise Adam a bit, but it also sets him on edge, almost as much as Nat’s own fixation on Kira. 

They’re vampires. Kira and Barbara are human. It’s too risky to involve themselves too deeply, and the last thing he wants is anyone getting hurt over it. 

“Well,” Lucas says, relaxing fully now. “Alright.”

The quiet lingers for a long moment before Adam can muster the strength to say, “I should go.”

“Why, am I not riveting enough company for you?” Lucas asks, humor dancing in his warm brown eyes. Adam takes breath to steady himself, but all it does it bring Lucas’ scent further in, distracting him all the more. 

“You should go as well,” Adam replies, dizzy. “Maybe find a shower.”

“Rude!” Lucas exclaims, then cartoonishly lifts his arm to sniff himself. He puts on an exaggerated expression of disgust. Adam rolls his eyes. “Though you might be right. I’ve been traveling since yesterday, and the employees at the airport tend to look down on sink showers.”

“I can imagine,” Adam says dryly. He sighs, unable to shake the worry that lingers over him. “Barbara will be fine. You should look after yourself better.”

“I look after myself just fine,” Lucas says, waving him off. Considering the number of times Adam has heard through the Agency grapevine that Unit Alpha’s handler has landed himself in the infirmary yet again, somehow, Lucas’ words do nothing to convince Adam. He has the alarming urge to grab Lucas and drag him somewhere else, to take care of Lucas himself so he can be certain of Lucas’ health and comfort. 

Heat rushes to his face, something he’s aware shows far too easily on his pale skin, so he turns on his heel and marches away. 

“Try deodorant,” Adam calls.

“Go fuck yourself!” Lucas calls out with a cheerful laugh.

#darling writing #twc #wayhaven #wip #barbara 'barbie' robertson #lucas daniels #idk I just love them #Lucas wants nothing more than to drive Adam crazy for the rest of time 💞💞💞

[delucadarlingwriting]

I'm finally doing my Barbie/Felix playthrough and I'm LOVING it ;v; I've had this scene stuck in my head for a few days. I like to envision Barbie as mid-30s and divorced (I've also played with the idea of her having a kid during Book 1 that has the same mutation as her. for the Mess.), because I think it's funny if she thinks Unit Bravo is a bunch of young kids compared to her, only to realize SHE'S the baby. Especially where Felix is concerned. The attention of a MUCH younger man really throws her for a loop!

***

Her laughter clouds the air in front of them as they walk down the darkened sidewalk, a late winter breeze loping past them. At her side, Felix tilts his head up.

“Well don’t leave me out of the joke,” he says with a sharp grin. Barbie shakes her head.

“Your flirting is ridiculous,” Barbie says. Felix chuckles.

“Aw, come on Babs, what’s so ridiculous about it?” He doesn’t seem offended at least. His strange and beautiful amber eyes glitter with mirth. Barbie looks him over once more.

Felix, like the rest of his team, is extremely handsome. He’s clever too, which she appreciates, and he can be sweet when he wants to be. She certainly likes his attention, even if he seems to share that attention with every attractive person they run into.

“You’re just so young!” Barbie exclaims. He can’t be any older than 24, more than 10 years her junior.

To her surprise, Felix just flashes another of those grins at her, and says, “Do you think so?”

“Well of course,” Barbie says, though as she does, she’s suddenly less sure of herself. She scrutinizes him again, noting the lack of any wrinkles, lines, or bags on his face. Not even smile lines, which if anything, she certain he’d have those given enough time. “How old are you?”

“Er.” Felix rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “Not…too young.”

“Dear lord, tell me you’re at least 20,” Barbie says, blanching. She hasn’t exactly flirted back with him, but she hasn’t discouraged it either. Felix laughs brightly.

“Yeah, definitely,” he assures her. That’s a relief.

#darling writing #darling speaks #wip #twc #wayhaven #barbara robertson #the wayhaven chronicles #felix hauville

[delucadarlingwriting]

AHEEM HEEM HEEM

I do not need to write a fic of Adam being in love with Nat for 300+ years. I don’t need to write about Nat growing restless and wanting a domestic life outside of the Agency. I don’t need to write about her asking her best friend Adam du Mortain to help her have a baby. I don’t need to write about Adam agreeing against his better judgement. Surely he can’t fall MORE in love with her. It’s just sex. It’s not even for pleasure.

I don’t need to write about Nat slowly falling in love with him in return. I don’t need to write about Nat realizing it the first time she sees Adam cradling their child.

I don’t I don’t I don’t

#darling speaks

[delucadarlingwriting]

I do not need to write a fic of Adam being in love with Nat for 300+ years. I don’t need to write about Nat growing restless and wanting a domestic life outside of the Agency. I don’t need to write about her asking her best friend Adam du Mortain to help her have a baby. I don’t need to write about Adam agreeing against his better judgement. Surely he can’t fall MORE in love with her. It’s just sex. It’s not even for pleasure.

I don’t need to write about Nat slowly falling in love with him in return. I don’t need to write about Nat realizing it the first time she sees Adam cradling their child.

I don’t I don’t I don’t

#darling speaks #I actually really don’t I have other projects I want to finish!!! #but Crowleys and I started talking about this last night and now I’m stupid #chewing the walls chewing the walls

[delucadarlingwriting]

Beneath the Surface - Wayhaven Secret Santa 2023

Written for the lovely @lovelyfoolish as part of the Wayhaven Secret Santa! I was really excited to get to join in this year, and I was even MORE excited to see LF has a taste for M/N love triangles too ;3c Thanks to @wayhavensecretsanta for organizing this!

Lovelyfoolish, I really hope you like it!

Summary: Nate's happy for Mason and Mina. No, really.

Word Count: 6.9k

Pairing: Mason/Mina + Nate

Warnings: Drowning

***

Nate hears Mina coming well before he sees her. His senses are not so finely honed as Mason’s, hearing individual heartbeats from a distance requires some concentration on his part usually. Mina is, as ever, a special case though. He can practically pinpoint her location from anywhere in the warehouse. She’s not close yet, but the gentle thump thump, thump thump, thump thump of her heart and tap, tap, tap of her shoes is growing louder by the second. Nate listens, rubbing a soft cloth over the surface of his violin with care, and tries to pretend he isn’t expecting her when she finally comes in.

Mina’s eyes are bright, her pulse pounding faster once they lock gazes. He holds her eye for only as long as needed for politeness, before looking back to his task. There’s only  a small speck of dust left, and he wipes it away as slowly as he can, allowing himself a few extra moments to find serenity before they speak. Once he has it, he sets the cloth aside and faces her with a smile.

“Hello, Mina,” Nate says. 

“Nate,” she replies, her gaze on him like a chokehold. She relieves him some by looking at his distraction laid across the table. “You play?”

“Some, though not in quite a long time,” Nate says. Though the violin is easily transportable, it has always stressed him out to take it with him on missions. It’s spent quite a long time collecting dust in his quarters at the Facility, only brought out for routine care and maybe a play session or two every few years. 

“I do too,” she says. 

“I’d love to hear that,” Nate says. 

“Maybe we can duet,” Mina suggests, stepping close to peer at his instrument. Very suddenly, Nate feels self-conscious. 

“It’s quite old, and in desperate need of a luthier’s care,” Nate says, his eyes finding each and every little flaw in the surface of his violin, the strings that haven’t been tuned yet, the varnish that needs replacing.

Mina nods. “It’s gorgeous. Have you had it long?”

“It, uh, comes from my human days,” Nate says, rubbing the back of his neck. “After…Well, I was lucky enough to be reunited with it after several decades apart.”

One of Mina’s dark eyebrows curves upward, curious. His heart gives a dull thump; if she asks about it, he’ll answer. So he doesn’t give her the chance to ask about it. 

“Did you need something?” he asks, taking the violin and laying it with care in its case. She came in with far too much purpose to have only intended to chat. 

She sweeps a dark lock of chin length hair behind her ear. “Yes, actually. We got a call from the Agency. There’s been several reports from the bay up North. It seems like it might be our sort of problem.”

Nodding, Nate gets to his feet, ready to face whatever trouble they’re heading for. Mina straightens as well, reminding him of his dearest friend. 

“Then we best get going. I’m with you,” Nate says with a smile and a gesture for her to go ahead.. Mina flashes him one in return before turning to march ahead. For half a second Nate waits, watching her go, before he unsticks himself to follow. 

***

“An Agency boat would have been a better choice,” Ava says with a frown, arms crossed and bulging as she sizes up the boat in front of them all. 

Detective Reele’s home is on the outskirts of town, the view of the nearest neighbors obscured by the treeline. The dirt path that led them off the main road to the old, squat house continues on, curving past the trees, Mina having informed them that it would eventually lead to a private ramp, which leads into a cove, which leads to the ocean. As it turns out, the retired detective is quite an avid fisher. 

Farah leaps up, landing on the narrow space at the top of the hull, balanced on just the toes of her high top shoes. Crouching there, she peers into the interior of the boat and says, “Yeah Mimi, it looks like it’s already gone a few rounds with a sea monster.”

“Let’s hope it’s not a monster,” Nate cuts in. Mason throws him a look, a small curve of a smile at the corner of his mouth; he would love it to be a monster. For all that Mason loves to be lazy, he seems to relish the chance for a fight just as much. Not unlike a housecat, though Nate doubts he’d appreciate the comparison. He fights back a burst of fondness as Mason gives a languid stretch before wandering back to lean against the side of the car and smoke.

“A pontoon isn’t ideal either,” Ava adds with disappointment. Nate doesn’t argue there. Given the spare empty beer bottles scattered on the deck of the boat, he assumes it was rarely used for anything beyond recreation. 

Mina shrugs. “This is the best I could arrange on short notice. Detective Reele is the only person I know who has a spare boat she leaves around for weeks at a time.”

“Wait, did you ask if we could use it?” Farah asks, eyes shining with clear delight at the possibility that Mina did not ask permission. Mina’s cheeks go crimson and she doesn’t respond.

“Mina!” Nate exclaims, shocked. She waves a hand at him.

“I have permission to use it, that’s why I have the spare keys,” she explains, then gives a short wince. “Detective Reele is offshore right now though, no signal, so I didn’t exactly get to ask if I could use it for a mission. It would be best to not damage it.”

“We’ll do our best to return it to her in one piece,” Ava says. She gives a hole in the bimini a scrutinizing stare. “In as many pieces as it’s in currently, in any case.” 

Mina laughs, the sound low and light and enchanting. He isn’t the only one to notice though. Hip leaning against the hull, looking out on the bay, Mason’s mouth is curved upward, shoulders looser than they were before. Nate makes himself take in this image of Mason, happy and at ease, and commits it to memory. He needs the reminder of why he holds back. 

A cold wind comes blowing off the bay, sending shivers through them all except Mina. She sedately flips the collar on her jacket up and sets about helping Ava with the hitch. 

It’s an hour north of driving to get to a secluded area where they can load the boat into the water. Mina fills them in on the area, apparently a popular vacation spot in the summer, and fairly safe. Lots of sandbars to break the rougher tides before they come closer to shore. Good for swimming, less good for boating. 

“These reports started in July,” she says, flipping through the manilla folder in her lap. Nate tries not to notice how Mason’s hand is completely obscured by it, the angle of the rest of his arm suggesting he’s got it resting somewhere on Mina’s thigh. 

“Right around the auction?” Farah asks. Mina nods, Mason’s jaw tightens. Nate understands entirely. That had been an unbearable time. As ever, Mina faced the troubles with her chin held high and shoulders back, while Nate wanted nothing more than to squirrel her safely away and fret until the problem was over. 

“That must be why it wasn’t really pinging any radars for so long,” Mina says with a frown, brows drawn together. “Damn. Everyone was too busy worrying about…”

“No one was seriously injured,” Mason says, leaning into Mina’s space as he points to a part of the report. “See? That’s why it wasn’t a priority. Everyone was busy worrying about that rat bastard and his pet annunaki, who were hurting people.”

Even the word annunaki gives Nate an unpleasant chill down his spine. It isn’t the first time he’s felt helpless to save Mina. Murphy had given them a run for their money, particularly at the end. He’d almost lost her then. It hadn’t felt the same at the time though. Murphy was—is—a vampire. Like him. Like all of them. 

An annunaki is so much more as to be untouchable. Not to Mina though. Her bravery in the face of danger puts a lump in his throat, both admiration and acidic fear coursing through him.

That’s over though. On to the next gaping maw.

***

“You holding up alright there, Natey?” Farah asks, bent over the side of the boat so far her nose could almost touch the surface of the water. Nate presses his lips together. The team knows exactly his feelings on being off solid ground, and while he does appreciate Farah’s concern, he wishes she’d do what he’s doing and ignore the problem entirely. 

“Do you get seasick?” Mina asks as she drops off the dock and into the boat. Nate gives a strained smile.

“Something like it.”

Mina gives a sympathetic nod. “That must’ve made travel hard for you before planes were a more common mode of transportation.”

Mason barks out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? Planes are worse.”

“For you, that somehow doesn’t surprise me,” Mina replies, a sharp, clever glint of amusement in her eye. Mason just shakes his head with an eye roll that is more fond than annoyed. To Nate, Mina asks, “Is it the leg room?”

“You do know Nate hates cars because they go too fast, right?” Farah laughs. Nate groans and runs a hand down his face, heat flooding his cheeks and neck. He will never understand just why Farah is so doggedly persistent in her drive to embarrass him.

Mina makes a short, disbelieving noise. “Nate, you can run faster than—”

“I am aware.” He sighs deeply. “Just because I don’t like something doesn’t mean I’m incapable of bearing it. I don’t like boats. I will be fine on the boat. Can we change the subject?”

“I agree,” Ava says, her boots hitting the deck with a thump that doesn’t even half betray her size. She gives the dock a slow, smooth push, sending the boat and all on it floating away, toward the bay. 

Nate’s stomach drops, but it’s better than it used to be, all the more because a boat is not a ship. And it’s fine, because Unit Bravo is with him. 

“Nate,” Ava says as she stands at the helm. He steps up beside her, looking down at the electronic map mounted just to the side. It’s barely half a mile out. The water is calm, lapping at the hull as Ava pushes the throttle forward. 

Salty sea air fills Nate’s lungs as he inhales, letting it expand his chest before letting it all out in a harsh huff. There are parts of this he misses. It’s not the sea itself that hurts, moreso the line it has slashed across his life now and his life then. How different things would be had he made another choice. 

“You like boats, right Mina?” Farah asks over the dull roar of the engine and the wind whipping through the air. She’s sprawled herself out over the curved bench seat against the starboard side of the boat, while Mason and Mina are sharing a single seat across from her. Nate feels a hot stab of envy and puts his eyes right back on the navigation device. It’s been good to see them figure out their relationship. He’s happy for them. It just always takes him a moment to remember that.

“This headwind is holding us back,” he says. Ava makes a short noise of agreement.

“I hesitate to push this thing harder,” Ava says with a grimace. “It hasn’t been well maintained. We’ll get there either way.”

So Nate has no choice but to continue listening to the conversation behind him.

“Boats are fine,” Mina says. “It’s mostly about the water though. I’ve always had a fascination with the ocean.”

“Are you a good swimmer?” Farah asks. 

“Pretty good,” Mina replies. Nate has learned “pretty good” means Mina is very good, but isn’t likely to brag about it. He fidgets, hoping she won’t need to demonstrate her prowess in the water regardless.

“Maybe you can go and charm the thing harassing people,” Mason says. Nate frowns, though he knows Mason isn’t serious. 

“Maybe so,” Mina replies, a smile hidden in her tone. She’s so reserved, but something about her is so magnetic that if, heaven forbid, she came face to face with the creature causing trouble it wouldn’t surprise Nate one bit if she did charm it.  

The sky darkens rapidly as they go, water slapping at the hull of the boat and spraying up, burning Nate’s nose and leaving a fine layer of salt on his skin. His heart thumps faster, though with the whirl of emotion in his stomach, he can’t be sure if it’s anxiety, excitement, or just the anticipation of a mission that hasn’t kicked off yet. If he pays attention, he can hear Ava’s heart running at nearly the same pace, though with decidedly less uncertainty dragging her down. His old friend may not admit as much, but he knows she lives for a hunt. Her shoulders and back are taut, aching for a chance to let loose.

A glance back allows him the chance to check on the rest of the team. Farah’s excited as well, though flightier, a touch more cautious without the advantage of experience on her side to give her the same level of confidence as the rest. Mason is calm, more so than usual. The addition of Mina has certainly helped Mason bristle against the grain of the world a little less. It makes Nate happy in a way. He’s always worried about Mason. 

Then there’s Mina. As even and still as the surface of a mirror, a quiet depth hidden behind her dark eyes, she’s clearly in her element here. The jerking of the boat appears to barely move her. A smile tugs at her mouth, and Nate is lost for a moment, tracing the shape of her lips with his eyes and wondering what it would feel like with his tongue. 

He bites down—hard—on his lower lip, the pain ripping those thoughts away as he turns and stares out at the glittering horizon. If things were different he wouldn’t mind those thoughts. It wouldn’t stick to his ribs.

“Nate,” Ava mutters, glancing up at him. Her jaw is set, eyebrows dropped in a way others might think stern. He sees the worry though. Of course she knows. 

“It’s fine,” Nate replies. Ava frowns and says nothing more. There’s nothing else she would need to say to him. He knows. 

“How much longer of this?” Farah asks, her tone going surly. Nate looks back to see her nose wrinkled, a hand brushing over her ringlets, once meticulously defined and now going frizzy. “This is going to be a major pain to deal with later.”

Nate looks down at the electronic map. “Based on the coordinates of the previous attacks, it should be another few m—”

His words are cut off as the boat pitches upward, like a giant fist has punched the bottom. For a stomach dropping moment, the boat hangs in the air, and he only just has enough time to grab for the folded up bimini before they go crashing back down to the water. The impact rattles his teeth, but he manages to keep his feet, though only by half ripping the bimini’s rods out. Wincing, he hopes Mina doesn’t get into too much trouble for it. When he looks around to the others, it seems no one else was able to stay upright.

Ava is levering herself up to her feet, while Farah is sprawled, groaning loudly (dramatically, so she’s fine) from the rough flooring. Mina’s sitting up on the ground, alert, while Mason is more or less on top of her, though holding himself up with his arms. He’s snarling, fangs out already.

“What the fuck was that?” Mason snaps. He looks at Nate. “The files said this thing was capsizing kayaks, not—”

Another burst of force from below, this time pushing the boat so the starboard side dips well into the water, while the port side hangs up with the moon. Yelps ring out as everyone scrambles for some sort of purchase. 

“Don’t fall in!” Ava yells, still holding the wheel. She fumbles for the keys and kills the ignition 

“Definitely not planning on it,” Farah replies, shoulders pressed to the floor, feet braced on the side of the couch she was lounging on just moments ago. Mason’s got a grip around the solid metal rod that serves as the base for the seat he’d been sharing with Mina, his free arm around her middle and holding her close. She is, alarmingly, staring into the depths with an expression of consideration, dark eyes glittering as she searches for something.

Nate has found a perch on the side of the helm. He leans forward enough to gain some momentum before throwing himself back against the deck. It gives against his shoulder, and he winces at the damage he knows he’s done. Still, it does the trick of sending the boat back down, slapping hard against the surface of the water. 

“Everyone okay?” he asks, rubbing his head, dazed from the impact. Mina has already jumped up, hands gripping the railing to look overboard.

“There’s something down there,” she says, eyes bright and alert, her chest expanding like a hunting panther. “It’s glowing. I think—Oh! It’s gone again.”

“Big?” Mason asks, hauling himself upright and going to look as well.

“Can’t tell,” Mina says with a shake of her head. Her short bob is in disarray, her attempts to run her fingers through it only making it wilder. “It looks small, but it could just be in the depths.” Everyone gives a shiver at that.

“Step back a bit,” Nate calls out, his stomach swimming at the two of them being so close to the water. Even Farah has darted back to join him and Ava at the helm. Her amber eyes flit around as she falls into a half crouch, a grimace twisting her expression.

Mason hesitates, but puts a hand on Mina’s lower back and begins to head back for the rest of them. Mina though doesn’t budge, eyes sticking to the depths, looking for all the world like she wants to slip headfirst beneath the surface. Bile rises in the back of Nate’s throat at the very thought, and he’s halfway to grabbing her before realizing he’s even taken a step. 

A growl escapes Mason’s throat, Nate thinking at first that it’s meant for him, until Mason barks out, “Something’s moving under us, fast. Sweetheart, move.”

Mina starts to back away, but doesn’t manage in time before another thudding impact tosses the boat again but toward portside. They crash down against the surface, water surging up and splashing over the deck. Before any of them can recover, they’re sent flying back toward starboard and then port and then back and forth, not giving them a moment to breathe. 

It’s inevitable that Mina’s grip on the railing would give out. Nate dives across the deck to grab her, blood chilling in his veins. But just as he’s about to reach her, she’s snatched sideways and crushed against Mason’s side.

Leaving Nate sailing stupidly over the side, head first into the water.

***

Milton was always the stronger swimmer of the Sewell brothers. He was the stronger of them both in countless ways, despite which Nate couldn’t help counting anyway. Being the elder, he keenly felt the shift from Milton looking up to him when they were children, counting on Nate to watch out for him, to play with him, to be his champion, to Milton suddenly being the one to lead the way. Nate’s illness was always present, but it worsened sharply as he got older. One day Nate was 10 years old, cutting up Milton’s food for him at the dinner table, and the next he was 22, grasping at his younger brother’s shoulders as Milton helped him out of bed to get dressed on the bad days.

A distant part of Nate’s mind had always held some small shame at needing so much. His dignity had suffered at leaning so heavily on his brother’s help. Milton was a good lad though. He’d never once made Nate feel like any of it was out of the ordinary or shameful. 

Nate had needed Milton’s help, but more than that, he’d needed Milton’s company. He’s never laughed so hard or felt so buoyant as the days they spent together as the best of friends. The day Milton had left for the Navy had been, at the time, the hardest thing Nate had ever faced. His burning pride for his brother had seen him through though.

His old heart squeezes tight in his chest; centuries later it still hurts to feel the old, good memories splashing up against the jagged cliffside of loss. Of all the things he’s ashamed of having done at sea, the things he would do again and again if given a chance, none of them are why he abhors stepping off solid ground. It’s knowing this is the burial site of his first true companion that strikes him through, cutting a wound that refuses to heal.

I don’t know how Ava has lasted this long, he thinks. She’s lived his life three times over, her wounds just as fresh, and somehow hasn’t gone mad from it yet. 

An icy cold hand lays against his cheek, the images in his mind going to inky black for a long moment. A voice he doesn’t recognize speaks to him.

Focus, it says. His thoughts are prodded like a sheep being led along a path, though to pasture or slaughter he isn’t sure. Regardless, he trots along, back to that day he has tried hardest to forget, but cannot. 

His mother had read the letter first. Her scream of agony had shaken the house to its foundation. The pain in his joints had barely become a blip in his thoughts as he’d hurried to find her downstairs, so blind with worry and dread he’d nearly slipped down the stairs to get to her side. Though she couldn’t find the words to tell them what was wrong, Nate had known that very moment that his life had just been turned on its head irrevocably.Never in his life had Nate seen his mother so wracked with pain—

Pain.

An explosion of pain bursts bright behind his eyes, filling his vision with sharp blue, shocking him into dragging in a gasp. A mistake that pours frigid salt water down his lungs. Choking on it, he blinks his stinging eyes and sees the present day. He finds himself in a dire situation, under water, drowning (though it won’t kill him)(this does not make it feel any better), and worse than the curved, glowing figure of a water sprite floating in front of him is the darker form of Mina. 

She can’t be here. Nate pushes past the agony of his body to kick his feet, scooping the water back to propel himself forward toward her. She’s squinting through the water, focused on the sprite. He thinks at first Mina is swimming toward him, only to realize she’s putting herself between him and the sprite. Panicked, he kicks harder, choppier, unable to help it though he knows it only slows him down. It’s hard to remain calm while drowning and fearing the love of his life is doing something fatally foolish on his behalf. 

The sprite just floats there, cautious. Staring. Nate reaches Mina, grabbing her by the upper arm, but his grip is hideously weak. There’s nothing he’ll be able to do to save her if the sprite comes over. It might not peer into her mind the way it did his, but they are capable of so much more than that.  

Mina grabs him back, fingers digging in with bruising force. Before he can react she’s leveraged herself behind him, not as a shield, but to allow herself to slip her arms under his, wrapping around his chest. She kicks her legs to send them up, and he tries to do the same. Spots have started to blot out his vision but he looks between them to keep an eye on the sprite. It doesn’t move, but it wouldn’t take much for it to catch up to them. 

It must have dragged him deep. Mina’s movements go more and more frantic, aching for the surface as they go. No doubt her lungs are bursting at this point. From the left something moves, and Nate jerks, lashing out with a hard kick instinctively. He connects with something solid, which tells him more than anything that it wasn’t the sprite coming for them again. 

He can’t see, but he feels hands on him, pulling Mina away, then taking her place to pull Nate up. This body feels familiar. Strong, broad. Mason. Mina slips away from them both, heading for the surface with greater speed now that she’s unburdened. Nate’s body is so leaden it would take nothing at all to sink him now. Mason grabs him tightly though, and drags him up.

The calm frightfulness of being underwater is burst as they crash through the surface. As soon as they do, Mason adjusts his grip on Nate, his arm bracing against Nate’s stomach, before he squeezes with a force that gives Nate no choice but to give up everything in his lungs and stomach to the water.

“Not—” he wheezes once he can draw the breath to do so. “Not necessary.”

“Shut up and breathe ,” Mason grits out, then starts swimming them both to the boat. Once he gets a few delicious gulps of air, Nate gently pries Mason’s grip away and puts some space between them. Silver eyes flash along with fangs, but Mason doesn’t try grabbing for Nate. 

“I’m alright,” Nate assures him, though he’d probably sound more convincing if his throat hadn’t been sandpapered with salt water. Even so, Mason gives a sharp nod, looking over to the boat where Farah is hauling Mina out of the water. Mason’s expression relaxes by a fraction of a fraction.

“Go ahead,” Mason says with a jerk of his chin. “I’ve got your back.”

From there, he only has to focus on swimming. He moves his limbs in a smooth, calm rhythm that takes him to the hull, where he grabs the railing and starts to pull himself up, only to find Ava and Mina on either side, helping to get him on board. Mason follows a moment later. 

For a long stretch of time, Unit Bravo simply stands and stares at one another, the only sound being from the three dripping with water. Farah breaks first and jabs a finger at the helm.

“We should go, right? We should totally go.” She turns her pleading gaze on Ava, who resists with tight jawed resolve for all of ten seconds before giving in. 

Groaning, Ava pinches the bridge of her nose and says, “It would be best to let Unit Victor take this one.”

“I could try talking to it,” Mina says, soaking wet and shivering, but determination ringing in her voice. It’s then that he notices she’s barefoot and without her jacket. “It couldn’t do anything to me when it tried…doing whatever it was doing to Nate.” She looks to him, but he turns away, hot with shame and hungover from the telepathy.

“Sweetheart, it could crush you if it really wanted to,” Mason says through chattering teeth before tossing Mina’s dry jacket to her.

There’s a short back and forth that ends in Ava restarting the engine and taking them back to shore while Mina gets in touch with Rebecca. Farah stands at Ava’s side, haltingly providing navigation with some gentle encouragement from the commanding agent. 

Nate falls onto the couch heavily, head in his hands as he tries to bail out his waterlogged brain. It’s only a minute or so before the firm cushion dips beside him, a slender hand resting on the damp fabric of his jeans. 

“Nate?” Mina asks, her voice quiet, almost shy. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m healed,” he says, as it’s more honest than saying ‘no’. Swallowing against his suddenly dry throat, he doesn’t resist the temptation to rest his hand on hers, stilling leaning his head against the other hand as he peers over at her. “I’m more concerned for you. You shouldn’t have jumped in after me.”

Mina shakes her head, water flinging from her soaked hair. A few stray strands stick to her skin, curling around her cheeks like a painted arrow pointing to her lips. 

“I’m a good swimmer, and it never even touched me,” she replies, completely missing his point. The was her fingers tighten on his leg stops the argument on his tongue dead in its tracks. “What was that creature?”

“A water sprite,” Nate says, drawing on his knowledge as a crutch. “A subclass of fae, sentient and mischievous, if not outright murderous. They’re solitary, long lived, and widespread. It’s rare they leave a body of water once they’ve bonded with it on a molecular level, as this one has.”

“It must be a new one then,” Mina says thoughtfully. Across the boat Mason stops squeezing water out of his long, shaggy hair to roll his eyes at them.

“Can we get to shore before you two start getting…” He gestures vaguely at them. “You know.”

Nate’s cheeks burst with heat, only for him to realize Mason means he wants them to stop with the deductive chatter. At least, that’s what he thinks until Mason gives them a look Nate recognizes very well, and has not had aimed his way in almost a century. And it is them, both he and Mina. He blinks, straightening up. 

Before he can consider that too closely, Mina looks back and makes a noise. Every vampiric head snaps to follow her gaze, finding a pale blue dot maybe twenty yards behind the boat, keeping pace. Mason’s frame goes rigid, eyes tracking the sprite as it follows. Nate thinks he ought to stand up and do something too, but his limbs are so heavy that all he can do is squeeze Mina’s hand. She squeezes back, warm and steady. 

“Keep an eye on it,” Ava says, voice low. Mason gives a sharp nod without letting his gaze falter for a moment.

Several minutes pass as they go, wind whipping past them, chilling Nate through. The sprite doesn’t bother them though. It just follows, like it’s curious. Nate hopes it’s curious. 

“It’s fading,” Mason says, just as they get close enough to shore to make out the vague shape of the dock jutting out into the water to meet them. 

“I wonder if it wanted to talk,” Mina says, voice so quiet she might not have meant to be heard. Nate shudders; he has no desire to speak to the sprite, though he hopes nothing too dire has to happen to contain it. Then again, had the sprite done what it did to Nate to Mina or another human instead…He presses his lips together into a tight line. Dire may be necessary.

Agents are waiting for them as they approach the dock, but Nate doesn’t mind them much as he hauls himself out of the boat. With his feet on the wooden planks, he feels a bit steadier.

“May I?” he asks, holding a hand out to Mina. She looks up at him, a mysterious smile on her face as she accepts without a word. Her hand slips into his, and he’s dizzy once more. He helps her out of the boat, then stands back as she goes to speak to Rebecca. Mason slides past through the shadows, hovering close. It takes every ounce of willpower for Nate to resist the urge to flex his hand, restless from the touch.

Ava calls to him, and he starts to go to her, but she holds a hand up to stop him. Her eyes search his briefly, then she frowns.

“Nevermind, Farah and I can handle this,” Ava says, glancing back at the agents waiting to speak to the team. Their newest member is already regaling a few with tales of what happened. It may be a trick of the light, but Nate swears his friend has a hint of dimple around her mouth. Noticing him notice her, Ava scowls and says, “Go get yourself together.”

Nate huffs a laugh and slips his hands into his pockets. “I see.”

“Go,” Ava says more firmly. Nate goes.

He doesn’t go far though. Just up the path, away from the buzz of activity and engines, just far enough that he can’t hear the lap of water against the shore. 

The road is mostly compact dirt, lined on either side with soaring trees that leave a slash of night sky visible over his head. With the coming of night a chill has entered the air, Nate’s breath clouding out in front of him. His clothes aren’t dripping anymore, but he’s a far cry from dry. It makes him ache for the familiar comfort of his copper tub, big and deep, filled to the brim with hot water. 

It’s going to be a hard night. Nate doesn’t bury his memories, but he doesn’t linger on them if he can help it either, and never has he had to relive them in such a way before. It was so vivid. His heart gives a painful squeeze as he remembers just a few months ago when that carnival was in town. Had Mason’s vision of his past in the Hall of Mirrors been like that? Nate staggers as he goes, catching himself on the trunk of a tree, overwhelmed by the dear hope that that isn’t how it had worked. Even if Mason doesn’t remember what’s happened to him, how Nate had found him in that awful place—

A branch snaps behind him, jerking him out of his thoughts. He looks back to find Mina, her eyes widening when she spots him in the darkness.

“There you are,” she says, relief so thick in her voice it makes Nate’s pulse quicken. “I swear I looked away for a moment and when I looked back you were just gone.”

“Sorry,” Nate says, forcing a casual chuckle. “I needed a moment. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Of course I worried,” Mina says, though she doesn’t meet his eye when she says it, her cheeks darkening minutely. Seeing her react like this when she’s normally so collected has Nate closing the distance between them until there’s only an arm’s length of space. She tilts her head back, an expression of determination fitting itself on her face. “What did that sprite do to you?”

“Pardon?” Nate asks, leaning back. Mina steps closer.

“It was touching you, and your eyes were glowing,” Mina says. She sets her jaw. “It tried grabbing me to do…something, but it got scared when it didn’t work.”

Nate’s throat goes very dry. “Thank goodness for your abilities.”

“Nate, please,” Mina says, waving his words away like smoke. “I don’t think it just said hello, did it?”

“No,” Nate admits. “It wanted to see…pain.” Hissing out a breath, Mina reaches for him, but he puts a hand up to stop her. “Not physical. Memories.”

“Still,” Mina says. She looks back over her shoulder. “Have you heard of anything like that?”

Melting out of the shadows, Mason puts himself at her side, a grimace on his face. “Yeah, actually.”

“It’s a common means of feeding for them,” Nate explains in a near whisper. His breaths come faster now. It’s bad enough to be alone with Mina, but it’s all the worse to have Mason here. He’s too raw, his edges jagged. If he doesn’t get them away, he’ll slip. They’ll see him.  

“You didn’t mention that before. Are you okay?” Mina asks, her voice curling around him with all the enticing warmth of a lover’s embrace. Nate’s mouth wobbles, and Mason’s eyes widen.

“Yes,” he says, voice cracking.

“You don’t sound okay,” Mina presses, more persistent than Nate would have anticipated. He glances over his shoulder, knowing it exposes his discomfort but not being able to help himself. 

“I promise I’m alright,” Nate says, face burning hot. That’s one way to beat the chill of the air, he supposes. 

Mina’s dark brows draw together in frustration.

“Are you allergic to having others take care of you?” she snaps. Nate rears back.

Mina is a consummate professional. He’s always known her to be even keeled, not prone to outbursts. In the time they’ve known each other, she’s never once raised her voice at him. It steals his voice for a long moment as he grapples with what he could have done to make her so upset with him.

“No, not at all,” he sputters. Mason laughs, the sound low and growling, soothing rather than mocking. Nate looks at him, mystified. Mason is one of the most perceptive people he knows, and even if it took him far too long to learn his own feelings toward Mina, Nate can’t imagine he’s as blind to others being drawn to her. 

“Then let her help, handsome,” Mason says. Nate’s thoughts come to a screeching halt at that. 

Handsome? Since when does Mason…? He looks at Mina, but she either doesn't notice or doesn’t care. She is, instead, focused entirely on Nate. That regard pins him in place. He doesn’t so much as breath as she reaches out, slender fingers carding through his still drying hair, pushing it out of his face. His heart pounds so hard it hurts, and now his head is throbbing as well. 

Nate covers her hand with his. “What are you doing?”

“Checking on you.” Mina frowns, pulling her hand away slowly. She tries to at least. Nate presses down on it before she can, meaning her palm slots against his cheek. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“But…” Nate looks again to Mason. His grey eyes are as unfathomable as what lays behind a misty morning fog. Mason just shrugs, a lazy smile on his face.

“Don’t overthink it,” he says. 

That seems an impossible task. The events of the night dissolve entirely in the face of this development. 

Mina’s hand slides down, fingers curling under his chin, pressing down with her thumb until he looks her in the eye. He’s expecting another scolding, but her eyes have softened. Not since he realized his own feelings for her has he held her gaze for this long. He couldn’t dare to, not without risking her seeing everything. 

Perhaps she saw enough anyway. He leans forward, dizzy and brimming with hope, needing to feel her mouth on his more than anything. 

But she doesn’t let him. Her smile is kind when she slides her hand over his mouth and says, “Not yet.”

Mason snorts. “Why not?”

“He’s just been through something,” Mina says, frowning at Mason. Mason shrugs.

“It’d make me feel better.” Mason gives a toothy grin. “Among other things.”

“I’m sure it would,” Mina says dryly. Nate can’t help laughing against her palm. 

With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around her wrist, drawing it up to his mouth. He glances at her, waiting to see if she objects, but when she doesn’t he presses a soft kiss to the delicate joint. Her pulse jumps against his lips. A heady emotion fills him from his toes to his scalp, stoking warmth in his guts. There’s little he wouldn’t do to be able to draw more reactions from her. 

“She’s right,” he says, much as he dearly wants to agree with Mason instead. There are too many questions in his mind though, and he’s still not steady on his feet. When Mason frowns, uncertain, Nate adds, “I’d like to talk first.”

“Of course you do,” Mason says with a gusty sigh. No doubt if he had his way there’d be very little talking happening, but quite a lot of noise. 

Two points of light appear behind Mason and Mina, filling Nate’s vision with white before he can adjust to the brightness. The team’s car rumbles, the boat trailer clattering as it approaches slowly. Hanging out the passenger side window, Farah calls out, “Hey you three! Let’s go already. It’s seriously gotten boring now that no one’s drowning.”

Nate tries and fails not to roll his eyes.

“I’m taking tomorrow off,” Mina says, hand dropping down to her side. His skin tingles from her touch. “We can talk then.”

“That sounds perfect,” Nate says, heart skipping a beat. He looks at Mason. “If you’ll be there as well.”

“Of course I will,” Mason says with a frown. “I’m part of this.”

Though it’s not something Nate has ever considered before now, he finds no reason to object to it now. 

HONK. HONK HONK. HONKHONKHONK.

“Fuck! Farah!” Mason shouts, hands clapped over his ears as he stomps toward the car. In the cab, Farah is leaned over into Ava’s space, grinning madly. He meets her eye and she winks. 

Mina laughs, the sound sending a pleasant shiver along the back of his skull. “Alright, come on then. Tomorrow we’ll figure this all out.”

“Tomorrow,” he agrees, following as she leads the way. Mason, still surly, is waiting for them with the back door open.

#darling writing #twc #wayhaven #twc mason #twc nate sewell #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhavensecretsanta

[delucadarlingwriting]

I was extremely foolish tonight and decided, on a whim, to dig a box of press on nails out of my bathroom closet. They look great, but they're making typing a special kind of hell on my desktop keyboard.

It did lead to this while I was working on something though:

if it gets a giggle out of me, surely it's worthwhile?

#darling speaks #wip #didn't realize I was pressing the a key

[delucadarlingwriting]

I always need two projects going at a time, so I've been throwing spaghetti at a Christmas themed N/M/Barbie love triangle fic (a third one? a third one? a third one???) that a bit of art I reblogged on my main blog reminded me of.

I crave mess.

For reference on Clipboard, @crownleys did an adorable drawing with him in it here

#darling speaks #twc #wayhaven #barbara robertson #wip #nate sewell #twc mason

[delucadarlingwriting]

Sometimes, when I'm busy with my hands but still want to write, I dictate on my phone. It works pretty well, but it does come with the drawback of needing a lot of editing afterward. Usually this is annoying enough that I avoid dictation unless I really have wet brain for something. Sometimes though, it manages to say things that tickle me.

#darling speaks #that's supposed to be “his gaze” #I'm trying to write a sensual tender moment here but I guess a surprise gay one is good enough

[delucadarlingwriting]

Chapters: 3/10 Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles - Mishka Jenkins Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)/Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell Characters: Detective Barbara Robertson, Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Nathaniel "Nate" Sewell, Ava du Mortain, Farah Hauville, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Mystery, OT3, Serious Injuries, Hurt/Comfort, Casual Sex, Mutual Pining, This was originally meant to just be a Mason/Detective fic, but then Nate wormed his way in, very rude of him tbh but he can stay, Threesome - F/M/M, Abduction, Stalking, Drugging, post book 2, Pre-Book 3, Fair warning I do nose through the code Summary:

Lovesick Helen Lee has gone missing without a trace, and no one seems to care.

---

I updated! :D

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven #reblob #darling writing #Specialist Agent M #nate sewell #barbara robertson

[delucadarlingwriting]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles - Mishka Jenkins Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain, Detective/Ava du Mortain, Barbara Robertson/Ava du Mortain Characters: Barbara Robertson, Ava du Mortain, Female Detective (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Detective (The Wayhaven Chronicles) Additional Tags: Haircuts, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Intimacy, split ends can actually be something that is so personal Summary:

No one would never know that Ava du Mortain isn’t perfectly put together just looking on the outside. Split ends are no joke though, and sometimes the only way to deal with the damage is to start over.

#reblob #god damn it I meant to reblog this here #whatever