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flightlessangelwings · 3 months

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The Bet

Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader "Cariño"

Word count-2.7k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), pegging, anal, switching, oral (f receiving), overstim, slight roughness, established relationship and safe words, praise, no use of y/n

Notes- For Peg That Middle Aged Man Campaign! This was very fun to write and also a challenge to make it in character and believable for Veracruz! But I think I accomplished that and I'm very happy with how this turned out! Enjoy!

Graphic by @wannab-urs thanks so much for making that and hosting this event!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

“Relax, Comandante,” you cooed.

Veracruz only growled as he gritted his teeth.

You smirked, “I thought you were a man of your word, V.”

“Yes, cariño,” he grumbled. It was a bet he never thought he would lose… and he lost, putting him on his knees in front of you. He never thought he would find himself in this situation, which is why he took the bet in the first place. He thought it was a sure thing for him. Yet his pride couldn’t deny you your winnings. And he also couldn’t help but notice you were a little too excited to be able to do this to him.

“Trust me, V,” you whispered softly as you pulled your fingers out of Veracruz. You had spent extra time working him open, making sure he was ready for your strap. You had asked how he wanted to position himself, and he chose to be on his hands and knees. As much as you would have liked for your comandante to lay on his back so you could see his face, you understood that this was a lot for him. It was vulnerable enough for Veracruz to even allow you to fuck his ass, and you couldn’t ask any more of him.

He groaned as he felt you position yourself at his entrance. Veracruz closed his eyes and hisses as he felt the unfamiliar stretch of something new. You worked slowly, just pushing the tip of your strap into his entrance as you watched every muscle in your comandante’s body tighten. It was a role reversal you never thought would happen, and so many thoughts and emotions ran through you as you inched the toy deeper and deeper into him.

Caressing his body to try and ease the momentarily discomfort, you leaned forward and murmured in his ear, throwing a few familiar of the comandante’s words back at him, “You know the word if you need it.”

Veracruz groaned, “I think,” he gasped as you pushed the strap more into him, “You are enjoying this a little too much, cariño.”

You only huffed, hiding the smirk from his gaze as he dropped his face onto the mattress. Truthfully, you were enjoying this, but not for the reason Veracruz’s assumed. This was because you wanted to know he would trust you in the same way you trusted him. You placed your body in his hands almost nightly now, and some of the things you both enjoyed doing required that level of care. With this reversal, he told you that he was as safe with you as you were with him.

And it meant more than words could express to you.

Veracruz grunted as your hips met his, the warmth of your skin contrasting the coolness of the strap that entered him. You stilled yourself for a moment to allow him to adjust, and you ran your hands along the bare skin of his ass and thighs as you waited.

“Move, cariño,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

“I thought I was in charge right now, V,” you quipped back.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his position to be more comfortable, “You are enjoying this way too much, cariño,” Veracruz replied in a sure tone.

In response, you rocked your hips back just slightly and then thrust forward again, eliciting a groan from his lips. You let out a whine of your own at the sound he made and repeated the motion. Running your hands across his back, you started to pick up your pace, mesmerized by the way the toy disappeared inside of your comandante over and over again.

Veracruz’s groans filled the room as he surrendered himself to you. It was the last position he thought he would find himself in, yet he couldn’t find any complaints. With every thrust, his resolve crumbled more, and his eyes rolled back every time the strap was fully sheathed inside of him. You moaned softly as you thrust your hips harder, mimicking the way he always fucked you.

As you pumped your strap in and out of him in a slow yet harsh rhythm, Veracruz realized something: you genuinely wanted this to feel good for him. This wasn’t any sort of payback for how hard he liked to fuck you. No, you wanted him to enjoy this. And he could tell you were enjoying yourself by the way you moaned softly, even with nothing inside you and the only stimulation on your clit being when you thrust fully inside him.

With that realization, Veracruz let out the most obscene sound he ever made in his life. He wasn’t even sure where it came from, but he felt overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions that crashed through him as you fucked him. And it only heightened when you reached around and wrapped your hand around his cock.

“That’s it V,” you purred as you listened to the chorus of sounds he let out.

Skin slapped against skin as you rocked your hips back and forth, driving the strap deep inside Veracruz every time. He groaned as tingles of pleasure ran up his spine with every thrust of your hips, and a string of curses flowed from his lips.

“That’s my strong, Comandante,” you encouraged him while you pumped his cock faster, squeezing every spot you knew he liked. Because as well as he knew your body, you also knew his. You knew what drove him crazy, you knew exactly where to squeeze to make his eyes roll back in his head.

“Fuck… Cariño…” Veracruz growled as he felt his climax quickly approach.

But when you murmured his real name in his ear, the comandante lost it. As you drove the strap as deep as you possibly could, squeezing his cock and rubbing the trip with your thumb at the same time, he exploded. With a loud growl, Veracruz came hard, splashing the sheets below him as well as his own chest with his seed. His arms and legs trembled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into him, giving him the strongest orgasm of his life.

Veracruz’s mind went blank, something that never happens to him. You kept up your pace, working him through his climax with soft coos of encouragement until he collapsed down onto the bed.

He flopped forward with an exasperated sigh, pulling your strap out of him in the process. Veracruz grunted as he laid on his stomach in his own release, taking deep breaths to slow his pounding heart. From behind him, he heard you shuffle as you took off the strap before you laid down next to him.

“V?” you whispered as you brushed a lock of hair off the side of his face, “Are you alright?” you asked, “You good?”

He groaned as he rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. He never allowed himself to be vulnerable with anyone like that before, but it made him realize something else. Veracruz truly understood what it took for you to be so vulnerable with him. He knew it wasn’t weakness that you showed by submitting yourself to his whims. And he also knew that you didn’t think him weak for submitting himself to you now. In fact, you both knew it was the opposite.

Burying his feelings down, Veracruz grumbled as he flipped himself over onto his back and reached out for you. You let out a squeal of surprise at his sudden burst of strength and suddenly found yourself on top of him. Veracruz looked up at you for a moment as you straddled his waist. For a moment, both of you froze.

The heat in the room stabbed at both of your bare-skinned bodies, yet it didn’t bother either of you. Heavy breaths filled the air between you as you looked at each other in silence. Your chests rose and fell with each breath, exhaling in a heavy sigh each time. Neither you nor Veracruz communicated through words what you were feeling, but you knew from the look in each of your eyes what you were thinking. It was how it worked between the two of you- more action than words.

Veracruz was the first to move, the first to go into action again. He grabbed you and yanked you down, crashing your lips together in a heated kiss. You moaned into him as you rested your hands on his chest, gently kneading his pecs while you tasted him on your tongue. Veracruz’s hands roamed all over your body, caressing and squeezing your sides, your ass, your breasts…

“Ven aquí, cariño,” Veracruz groaned against your lips as his hands landed on your ass. He gripped it firmly, causing you to moan before you realized he was pushing you upwards, “Arriba,” he commanded.

Swallowing hard, you nodded before you shuffled yourself up his body. Feeling bold, you paused when your pussy reached his chest, and you decided to lower yourself for a moment, grazing yourself along his skin. You whimpered softly as the heat from his chest warmed you from your core, and you felt the way his eyes bore into you as his gaze pointed. As he watched you rock yourself along his chest, he growled, causing you to gasp as you clit rubbed against his skin.

“You think you are cute, cariño?” Veracruz smirked. His eyes gave him away though- he was enjoying the little show you put on.

And you knew his tell by now, “You like it,” you whispered. A statement. You were feeling bold after he allowed you to fuck his ass. Leaning forward, you hovered your lips over his, teasing him. Yes, you were enjoying this… but so was he.

Veracruz smacked your ass hard in response, jolting you forward and crashing your lips into his. Veracruz took your lips possessively, kissing you deeply. His tongue immediately darted past your lips so he could taste you. Veracruz swallowed the moan you let out as he savored you and ran his hands up and down your sides, caressing your body with his calloused hands and making you moan more.

As he broke away from the kiss, Veracruz could see how your pussy glistened from the way you rode his chest, but there was something else he wanted you to ride. “Come here,” he growled as he tugged at your body, urging you to shimmy your way to his face faster.

Just as you were about to come back with a smart response, you reached his face with your knees framing his head. Veracruz wasted no time, and the moment your pussy was close enough, his mouth was on it. You cried out at the sudden harsh stimulation, almost forgetting about your own need while you fucked your comandante with the strap. Now you understood how he could go so long, making you cum over and over again before he even thought about his own release.

But the sensations hit you like a freight train. Veracruz lapped at your folds, licking and sucking at your clit with fervor. You immediately lost the strength in your arms and you collapsed down onto your elbows as you swam in pleasure. Your legs trembled on either side of Veracruz’ face as the sounds of his slurping echoed.

“Fuck… V…” you whined as you felt your skin tingle.

Your climax hit without warning and you came hard, gushing onto his face. You thought you were going to fully flop down onto your stomach, but Veracruz’ strong grip kept your hips up over his face. And he didn’t let up even as your orgasm subsided.

Gripping the sheets, you knew he wasn’t finished with you yet. And you knew this was revenge for fucking his ass. Yet it didn’t feel like revenge as your second climax hit right behind the frist, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body.

“V…” you moaned as you dropped your head down, muffling your screams as you bit the sheets.

He squeezed your ass in response before his hands ran down your thighs and slapped them. Veracruz paused for a moment, giving you the choice you always had: say your word and end it all or keep going. Because no matter how much he took control, ultimately, it was always up to you whether you took what he gave you or not. It was always your choice. Just like it was his to give it to you. Just like it was his to let you fuck his ass.

You whimpered into the mattress, but said nothing, and the comandante took it as his que to continue. He started back with his tongue on your clit just as harshly as before, not letting up even though you’d cum twice already.

“Fuck! Comandante!” you screamed as you lifted your head to breathe. Even while he was below you, Veracruz was in completely control, not letting you go until he was satisfied.

Veracruz groaned into you as the taste of you drove him wild. So wild in fact that his cock hardened again despite how hard he came. Part of him thought he miscalculated in not having you face the other way so he could fuck your face while he devoured you, but he wasn’t going to break away from you now.

Instead, Veracruz let one hand off of you to pump his own cock while his tongue ran up and down your folds. He growled into you as his cock felt sore, just as your cunt did. But he was too lost in the moment to care.

Faintly, you heard the slick sound of Veracruz pumping his own cock over your moans, and it sent a pulse right to your pussy. You cried out loudly as he hummed into you, pushing you close to the edge once more.

“V…” you whimpered before you came for the third time, gushing so hard you heard the trickling of you release into his skin.

It only made Vercaruz more turned on as he pumped his cock harder. And yet, he still didn’t release your pussy from his mouth, and he kept working at your overly sensitive clit until you came one last time with a soft whimper. Your legs trembled on either side of his head as you fought to keep your knees from collapsing.

And that was when the comandante came again, groaning into you as he splashing himself once more.

Exhausted, both you and Veracruz couldn’t keep yourself up any longer and with a gasp you both flopped down. You lunged forward onto your stomach and his arms flopped to his sides. Heavy breathing filled the room again as you both recovered. Sweat and cum glistened over both your bodies as the smell of sex permeated the room.

Veracruz was the first to move once more, pushing himself up to lay next to you, “Cariño…” he murmured as he rolled you onto your side and tucked you into his embrace.

You sighed contently as you laid on his chest, taking a deep breath, “I’m alright,” you whispered as you savored the way he cradled your body. You stayed like that for several moments before your brain caught up to you, “Wait, shouldn’t I be taking care of you tonight after…?”

He let out a short snort, “You already did, cariño,” he told you.

You hummed with a smile on your face as you listened to the sound of his heart and traced random patterns on his chest, “I think you enjoyed yourself, Comandante,” you broke the silence.

Veracruz huffed, “You do taste good, cariño.” He knew exactly what you meant, and he knew you knew that. You chose not to challenge it though and just left it alone. You knew in his own way, he said what you wanted to know.

Together, the two of you laid on the bed, both too exhausted to care about the sticky mess that covered both your bodies. His arms stayed tightly around you, holding you close as both your heart beats slowly returned to normal. That was until Veracruz broke the silence with a low voice.

“I would not be opposed to trying that again, cariño.”

You smirked in satisfaction against his chest.

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joshs-big-toe · 3 months

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I Hate That I Love You

a/n: hey my loves, this fanfic that i wrote is definitely a gift because of my lack of writing. i tried something new and wrote this one in first person POV, so let me know if you like that. i do want to give a warning up front, this contains spoilers for the beekeeper movie as well as an ending that made my proofreader, @peetas-nose, say "what the fuck". derek danforth will never get a happy ending.

edit: I LOVE YALL BUT I WARNED YOU IT WOULD BE SAD

CW: heavy smut, p in v, fem!reader, aggressive sex, mentions of drinking and drug use(cocaine), oral sex(fem!receiving), depressing ending, SPOILERS

word count: 3844

PRESENT DAY

Derek Danforth. Momma's boy. Rich kid. 28 year old man-child. Let me be clear, Derek wasn't always this way. He was kind once upon a time. He was always rich, don’t get me wrong, but god when his mother was campaigning, he turned into the biggest asshole you could imagine. When he changed is when I broke up with him. We were 24 when I ended things between us. Though, things never ended between us truly. I was tired of the selfish person he had become. But then again, I use him for things too. He has money, I get sex, it's a win-win situation. This sounds like a prostitute situation, it’s not. He doesn't pay me, not necessarily, but my life has never been difficult since our agreement. I make him look good, he gives me benefits. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Let me rewind to four years ago.

FOUR YEARS AGO

I sat down on the couch, running my hands down my face before I looked up at him. “Fuck, Derek, you’re not the same person I met! What happened to you?” Derek paced in front of me. He was manhandling a glass of whisky. I honestly was afraid he was going to spill it.

“Y/N, you know I’m doing this for my mom!” His words were slurred. He had started drinking a few months prior when his mom first started talking about running for President. President, ha, fucking insane, right? Not to Derek and not to his mom. I hated it the moment he picked up his first glass, flipping through websites, spending hours up all night on the phone. He did some shit that I’m still in the dark about. I shot up from the couch, snatching the glass out of his hand. His eyes bore into mine, sending a chill up my spine. “Give it back, y/n.”

“Derek, your moms life has become your life. What are you doing with your money? Why are you doing this, this isn’t who you are!” He set his jaw, taking a step forward toward me.

“Give it here.” His voice was almost too calm at this point. I loosened my grip on the glass, allowing it to fall to the ground and shatter on impact. “Fucking hell, are you fucking serious right now?”

“Oops,” I shrugged, sitting back on the couch. My arm rested on the arm rest and I crossed one leg over the other. “Get your head out of your ass or you lose me, Derek. Thats how this is going to be.” I motioned toward him, studying his blazer and whatever-the-fuck expensive shoes he was wearing. “This… This is not who you are, or were, Derek.”

“I’m doing all this shit for her, not me, don’t you get that?”

“I call bullshit on that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I call bullshit.” He started pacing, running his hands through his hair. I followed him with my eyes, studying his movements, the crunch from the broken glass under his shoes. He paused in front of me, looking down at me.

“I am working my ass off, getting more money than you could ever comprehend for the sake of her. You don’t fucking understand the fucking stress I’m fucking under!” I was taken back. More money than I could ever comprehend. Ouch. I stand up and take a step toward him, our noses almost touching. I could smell the whisky on his breath and see the frustration and anger in his eyes.

“I can’t do this, Derek. I can’t be with, whoever this is, because it’s not the person I fell in love with.” I ran my hand through my hair as I began to walk away.

“Y/N, help me with this!” He was almost shouting. I shook my head, but before I could get too far, Derek grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms, pushing his lips against mine. I fucking hated the taste of whisky, and I hated how I did not want to break away from the kiss. My brain immediately became foggy with arousal. Something about the way his lips moved against mine sent a tremor of heat down in my core. His hand trailed up my arm and to the back of my neck, holding me against him. My mouth gapped, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth. Our mouths worked perfectly with each other, drawing me deeper into the kiss. I finally somewhat came to my senses, pulling away briefly, him still attacking my lips as I spoke.

“We,” his lips connected to mine. “Fuck, we’re still done after this.”

“Yeah,” I leaned in, desperately connecting my lips to his again making him gap his sentence. “Okay fine, just shut up.” Shut up I did. As much as I hated who he had become, or more accurately stated, who he was becoming, I couldn’t deny sex. He was insanely good at it, even though he seemed almost careless. And for some reason, his carelessness was why it was so intoxicating. Derek groaned, shoving me down onto the couch, pushing the breath out of me. He moved quick, sliding my shirt and jeans off of me, leaving in nothing but my bra and panties. He bit his lower lip before leaning down to attach his lips to mine again. I could feel him fumbling with his belt before throwing it to the ground, momentarily breaking our kiss to slide out of his dress pants and boxers. His cock sprung out leaving nothing to the imagination. Derek was only slightly above average, but fuck he knew how to work his body with mine. I looked at him, noticing a bead of precum forming at the tip, turning me on that much more. He pulled my panties down to my ankles before turning me onto my stomach, pulling my ass into the air. As he pulled my hair back, I heard him spit into his hand before the wet sounds of him stroking his own cock filled the room. I was getting impatient. I decided to push my ass against him, however I earned myself a hair pull. “We may be done after this,” he huffed, “but we can keep having fun, yeah?” He sighed out as he slowly pushed into me. “I can’t get enough of this fucking pussy, you understand that?” I tried to nod, but the grip on my hair was too tight. I opened my mouth to speak, however as i tried he began pulling in and out of me and grabbing at my ass to roughly pull me onto him. A moan escaped my lips instead of words. “What.” he growled out, not stopping his movements. If anything, it made him go faster. “Did I fuck the words out of your mouth already?” His breathing picked up as he continued his pace. His nails dragged into my ass, making me whine in a pleasured pain.

“D-Derek, fuck,�� I struggled to answer him. I felt one hand reach around me and push a finger against my clit. Derek groaned, the sound of skin slapping overpowering any other sound that was in the room. His used his finger to circle my clit. I felt him plant soft kisses on my back as he worked at the bundle of nerves. He released my hair and grabbed my ass again and began to push and pull me off of him again.

“Struggling to use your words, y/n? Come on baby, use those words. Even if we aren’t together, you'll still let me use you right?” I could feel his breath on my neck. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pleasure coursing through my body.

“W-what~ aha fuck- whats in it f-for me?” I managed out, trying to stifle my moans. He was pounding into me at this point, his finger still pressing against my clit. I was struggling to keep it together. There was a heat rising up in my lower belly as I felt my orgasm approaching. “F-fucking hell, Derek.”

“Whats in it for you?” His voice was low and his movements were erratic. He was close too. “A life of p-pleasure- fuck.. No more struggling. B-benefits.” I tipped over the edge, my orgasm spreading through my body as I clenched around him. I buried my face into the cushion of the couch, crying out in the pleasure of the orgasm ripping through me. His hands felt their way to my hips, his breathing ragged as i felt him twitch before filling me up with his cum. He pulled out, turning me over onto my back, watching me as I caught my breath. “So,” he panted. “Your answer?”

“You,” I paused to take a breath. “I’m here for whatever you need,” I began. “But I get a peaceful life in return.” He grabbed my clothes, throwing them onto me before getting his own and putting them on. After we both were dressed, he looked down at me and held out his hand.

“You have yourself a deal.” With that, the fate between us was sealed in a handshake.

PRESENT DAY

I regretted the agreement the moment my hand touched his for the handshake. I wish I could hate Derek more, but part of me still very much loves him. The consistent sex over the next four years definitely didn’t help. Derek and I turned 28 a few months ago. He kept changing, he turned to drugs and alcohol, his fashion sense got so much worse and he decided to get these bullshit frosted tips. And I still couldn’t help but look at him and wonder what we could’ve been if he was normal. Once again, I found myself at one of his parties. I was sitting on his lap with my legs crossed while his hand rested on my thigh. On the table next to him sat a glass of whisky and a small vial of white powder, I assume cocaine. For this party, he had me dress in this form-fitting short red dress that ruffled at the end. I draped around him, putting on a show for all his little rich-boy friends.

“You guys have any idea how much we made with that one woman alone?” Derek chimed in, his smile wide as he spoke. I smiled, looking over at Garnett as he raised his glass into the air.

“Wish I could’ve seen the look on her face as she saw that,” He paused before raising his voice. He shot his arms into the air, squeezing his eyes shut and shouting out in victory. “3.7 MILLION DOLLARS!!” All of Derek’s friends’ voices started ringing together, creating a dissonance of voices and shouts. I hated it here. I couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke and the drunk men trying to poke and prod at me everywhere. Derek could see the discomfort on my face, or maybe feel it in the rigidity of my body draped over him. I feel his hand run up my thigh, the tips of his fingers resting under the hem of my dress. I look down at him, his hair looking fried and his stupid green suit he was wearing. I grimaced. He glanced in my direction, pulling my head down to where my ear met his lips.

“Liven up, y/n, we have an agreement.” He mumbled, the heat of his breath tickling my neck.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Garnett exclaimed. “Derek wants some from his bitch!” I winced but kept a smile, even choking out a little laugh.

“Watch it, Garnett, remember your place.” Derek’s tone was serious. Garnett raised his hands in surrender.

“My bad, my bad. I'm going to take the boys and go talk about the new branch you’re building.” Garnett stood up, his posse following close behind, giving Derek shoulder punches and shakes as they made their way out. The door slammed shut behind him, cueing me to get off of Derek and make my way to the couch. I kicked off my heels and leaned my head back against the head of the couch groaning, my eyes screwing shut.

“You’ve been here for an hour, are you seriously acting like that right now?”

“I don’t want to hear it from you. I wore what you wanted me to, did my makeup the way you wanted me to, god forbid I’m tired of playing pretend with these jackass friends of yours.” I looked over to him. He was laid back in his chair, head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“If you’re done, I need you to tell me. I have plenty of other girls who would fight to be in the position you’re in.” His eyes met mine, a mocking smile was on his lips. I rolled my eyes and looked away, unable to hide the grin that threatened the corners of my mouth. His smile became more sincere. “That’s my girl.”

“Still not yours, Derek.”

“You are while you’re here.” He stood up and took a sip of his whisky before grabbing the vial and sauntering over to me. “You don’t understand how fucking hot you look right now.” He knelt down to the ground in front of my knees, gently spreading them apart before getting in between them. “You’re going to stay still for me, right?”

“Derek, what are you doing?” He held the small vial up and shook it in front of my face. “And you plan to…”

“Just stay fucking still.” I watched him closely, eyeing his every movement. He fumbled around his suit pockets, finding a $50 and handing it to me. “Pull your dress up, then roll that, yeah?” His face was flushed as he watched me push my dress further up my thighs, exposing my panties in full. He bit his lower lip as he looked at me, an obvious wet spot from my own arousal seeping through already. His eyes met mine, a grin plastering his face. “I love the effect I have on you, y/n.” I felt my face heat as I rolled the bill for him, knowing what he was going to do, but taken by surprise with how he did it. Derek broke eye contact first, taking the vial and unscrewing the lid. He brought it over to my thigh and carefully began pouring a line of cocaine on me. I wanted to shift, to mess him up just to see how I would react, but I was infatuated with what he was doing. Fuck I hate that he does this. I couldn’t stop him. He held his hand out, telling me he wanted the rolled up bill from me. I complied, wordlessly placing it between his thumb and pointer finger. “Good girl,” he mumbled. He turned, looking at my other thigh, quickly pouring out another small line across me. “Better stay still, understand me?” I was afraid to move. “Words, you know better.”

“Yes, Derek. Perfectly still.” He smiled. He brought the bill up to his nose, plugging one side and lowering himself close to my thigh. I tensed as he sniffed up the powder. He groaned, rubbing his nose before turning to the other thigh and doing the same thing but on the opposite side of his nose.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he pinched his nose and sniffed again. “You still have some..” Before I could comprehend what he meant, he ran his tongue up my thigh where the line was, but did not stop. He traced the top hem of my panties until he reached the other thigh, dragging his tongue down my thigh picking up any residue from the powder that may have been left over. His eyes connected with mine, both of our faces flushed.

“The door locks on its own, right?” I mumbled, my arousal taking control of me. That was the hottest fucking shit I have ever seen in my fucking life. He nodded, no words coming from him as the tips of his fingers dragged slowly up my thighs, hooking around my panties and sliding them down my thighs and pulling them off of me. He met my eyes again as he brought them up to his mouth, licking my arousal off of them before discarding them to the side. Fuck that made my stomach flip. His pupils were already blown, not looking away from me as he pulled me down the couch until my ass was barely on it. I sigh as he maintains contact, leaning down and planting a kiss on my pubic bone.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” he mumbled onto me. The movement of his lips against me made my body jolt. “All for me, too. Fuck,” he pressed his tongue against my clit, moving his head up and down, my eyes following his. He groaned onto me as I wrapped my legs around his shoulders. My hands found their way into his hair making him nip at me in response. “Hands to yourself,” He growled, shoving his tongue into me. His movements became faster and more erratic and his hands squeezed at my thighs. I groaned, trying to focus on him and his movements, but the pleasure that was spreading through me was almost too much. His nose pushed against my clit as he tongue-fucked me, the heat building within me rapidly. My body begged for release as he pulled away, denying me, before standing up and grabbing my jaw and spitting in my mouth. “The things you fucking do to me even after all these fucking years. God I can’t believe I ever let you leave.” His words took me by surprise, but he took me into a needy, heated kiss before I had the chance to respond. His tongue worked its way into my mouth, making the kiss deeper. I reached up toward his pants and began unbuttoning them and waited for him to stop me. If anything, he gave me more access to slide them down. I began to palm him through his boxers, a groan escaping into my mouth. “T-take them off,” he growled before immediately attaching his lips to mine again. I obliged, not waiting before dropping his boxers to the ground. He wasted no time before stepping out of them. My hand connected to his cock, slowly pumping it. He stifled a moan. “Fuck I love the way you fucking touch me. Like nobody else in the fucking world. You drive me insane, y/n.” He pushed me back on the couch as he removed his blazer, throwing it off to the side somewhere in the room. I began to turn onto my stomach but he stopped me.

“I thought-”

“Just shut the fuck up, will you? You think too much sometimes.” He grabbed one of my legs and draped it over his shoulder. His eyes met mine, focusing on my face as he slowly pushed himself into me. Just the tip. I didn’t look away despite every bone in my body telling me to. He started moving his tip in and out of me, my hands grabbing at his shirt to try and get him to fully push in. I am desperate, and with desperation comes begging, and with begging, I come apart.

“Fucking hell, Derek please just-” before I could finish my thought, he pushed himself into me. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him, filling me up completely. I threw my head back and bit my lip to stifle the moans that were threatening to escape. There was still a party going on outside, afterall. He didn't hesitate before grabbing my jaw, making me look at him.

“I love seeing your face as you come apart. The face you make when I make you so fucking needy. Fucking hell.” He pulled out of me before aggressively thrusting himself back in. He continued at this pace, forcing me to look at him. “I fucking love everything about you, y/n.” My eyes widened. He’s just high, he doesn't know what he’s talking about right now, right? I felt him twitch inside me telling that he was close. He brought his free hand down to my clit, pushing his thumb against it throwing me over the edge into an orgasm. I whined and he groaned as I clenched around him, his body convulsing as he reached his climax, filling me up. He allowed his body to fall on top of mine and rested his head on my shoulder as he caught his breath. We stayed there for a moment before he got up and put his blazer and slid up his pants. He threw his boxers at me and watched me wipe myself clean.

“Where’s my underwear?” He shrugged, lazily checking the ground around the couch. I groan and throw his boxers at him. He made a face at me, dodging them.

“Gross, you could’ve made a mess on my jacket.” I rolled my eyes and pulled my dress back down, leaning back on the couch.

“You said something earlier.”

“Don’t.”

“Did you mean it?” He was pacing again. All he seemed to do was pace.

“You and I are not… We fucking can’t, okay? This won’t be spoken about again, do you fucking understand that?” Without a word, I grabbed my heels off the ground, stood up and began my trek out of the room. I felt his eyes burning into me as I approached the door, turning to face him as I placed my hand on the handle.

“Goodbye, Derek.”

3 MONTHS LATER

The day I found out Derek was dead was probably the hardest day of my life. I knew what he was doing, though I didn’t know the extent of how bad it was. I knew he was investing in companies and owned call centers. I thought they were authentic tech support centers. In actuality, he was scamming older people out of money. Billions of dollars. The comments his “friends” made made sense now. I would have stopped him. I could have stopped him if I had just known. He was murdered in the crossfire of some vengeful man in a group called the Beekeepers. Shot him in the head in front of his own mother.

—--------

I sighed as I sat down on the fresh patch of grass where he was laid to rest. I placed a flower on it. The stone itself had been defiled. I was here once a week to try and keep it in good, well, okay shape. “You are a fucking idiot, Derek Danforth. You should've just…” A tear slipped down my cheek. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed the same. I would’ve fucking married you, dumbass!” My hand hit the ground. I cried silently for who knows how long before I decided to get up. I hesitated, dusting my jeans off looking down at him. “I love you.” I mumbled before walking away, trying to carry on with my life like I never had him to begin with.

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mikhailwrites · 6 months

Text

MWIII Campaign thoughts&opinion

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD (OBVIOUSLY)⚠️

Alright, here we go. Modern Warfare III. Disclaimer: I've been part-timing as videogame journalist (not in EN, obviously) for the past 10 years so this might read a bit like a review which this is not.

It's been a year since we watched the 141 sit in the bar in Chicago and look at the photo of one Vladimir Makarov. And the day of reckoning is finally here, at least for those of us with eaely access to the campaign.

The game opens, surprisingly, from the Konni perspective. As one of Konni soldiers, you infiltrate the prison to free your boss. First look at Makarov is menacing and leaves an impression.

Speaking of Makarov, however, I can't but feel like the writers had dropped the ball. It's obvious they were trying to go for the unhinged psychopath vibe but honestly, so many Makarov's lines borders on ridiculous, oftentimes crossing the line entirely. At times, I felt like I'm watching an old 007 villain and I don't mean it in the good way.

Most glaring example was in the Flashpoint mission. As Price and Soap capture Makarov after bombing the stadium in Verdansk, the terrorist then taunts and mocks them, revealing to know their names and threatening them with a revenge. The dialogue is, frankly, on a bad side and Makarov in that scene sounded to me more like a spoiled, rich teenager than much feared leader of a private army with ambition to start another World War.

It also contrasted wildly with the continuation of the scene where we see Soap almost lose it, tackling Makarov and pressing a gun to his head while Price tries to dissuade him from killing the criminal on the spot. That bit was well executed and I really liked it.

What I also liked was the Passenger mission and the very unique perspective we got as players, feeling the helplessness of the victim as it's forced to play role of a terrorist, solely based on their ethnicity. The "You're not a terrorist, but you look like one," line felt very powerful, especially in the context of current affairs.

The whole campaign felt very rushed and, in my opinion, the total commitment to the "race against the clock" hurt the narration a lot. There is not a moment of respite and every piece of the puzzle is delivered in a manner so hurried, I sometimes had trouble following it.

Especially in the Danger Close mission as we, similarly to MWII, operate Shadow Company gunship to provide air support, and out of nowhere, we get a shout that there's a helo nearby and Makarov's in it.

We then proceed to shoot the helicopter down and Makarov is seemingly KIA. Well, he's obviously not but the whole scene is delivered in such a luckluster manner that I was wondering if I perhaps missed some cutscene or debrief (I didn't) and was asking myself if the developers are even serious.

The overall pacing is off, especially compared to MWII and this leads to the lack of impact and emotional response.

Which brings us to the more sensitive part of this post. Being a Ghost/Soap shipper, I was happy to see the two interact and to pick up the rapport established in the previous game. Like many others, I, too, would appreciate more time with them, but I would appreciate more missions and longer campaign rather than cut other characters' screen time.

When they are on the screen, banter is usually quick to follow. Soap and Ghost interact easily with each other, hinting at a natural progress of their relationship. The Milena interrogation is especially great in this regard.

And then there's that ending. Honestly, I knew someone would die. I think it was pretty much given. Still, I had my bets on Ghost, thinking that Soap was way too fresh and had his whole career ahead of him to be sacrificed. Well, I was wrong.

In the confines of the story, it makes sense it's him. There is major foreshadowing happening in the Verdansk mission and when Soap ends up going with Price at the end, well, it was clear. Soap almost killed Makarov years prior, Price stopped him, and now Makarov comes and kills Soap right in front of Price. The choices and consequences. It makes sense.

But.

But it serves no purpose. It's literally the last mission, so what could've served as the major catalyst for the big finale - rest of 141 coming for Makarov for some good old revenge - just ends up rather sour. Especially since Johnny, during his last struggle, as he saves Price's life, doesn't even manage to kill Makarov, only injuring him, albeit badly.

It gets worse when you realise that during both games, Soap didn't get any justice at all. In MWII, he seemingly kills Graves, taking a revenge for the betrayal and the Alone mission. Only for Graves to casually reappear later, stating he wasn't in the tank that the game clearly stated he was in.

And now he loses his life without taking Makarov with him. It's... beyond sad for the character to get treated this badly by the narration.

The team's response to his death is a bit mild as well. It starts well, with Ghost scrambling to him as soon as he spots him, feeling for vitals even though it has to be clear to him that he's gone, that felt gutwrenching. But after that? It's... lacking some stronger emotional response. They say their farewells to Johnny, a single sentence each (and, my god, did they truly think the "he was the best of us" clichè would work on any level whatsoever?), scattering his ashes, and that, too, as great as the animation was, just... felt a bit hollow and artificial.

There are ways to kill a beloved character to make it feel truly heartbreaking and meaningful. The scriptwriters here should've taken notes from Destiny 2's Forsaken DLC for example. They could've used Soap's death in a myriad of ways, including making player to choose between, say, saving Soap and letting Makarov escape. Or between saving Soap and defusing the bomb. Or just about dozen other narrative choices that would make Soap's death more meaningful and would have much bigger impact on the player.

As it is, I cannot help but say my own farewell words: Johnny died, but what for?

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #modern warfare iii #cod mw3 #mw3 spoilers

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morethanwonderful · 1 year

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Out of all of Wei Wuxian's traits, one of the ones that fascinates me the most is how incredibly casual and chummy he is with corpses. All the other cultivators are a bit desensitized to the dead by nature of their profession, yes, but Wei Wuxian in particular treats the dead very much the same as he treats living people, and I think it's simultaneously one of his best and most concerning attributes.

On the good side, the way Wei Wuxian treats the dead is absolutely an extension of his overall goodness and empathy. He stands on the side of those that are looked down on, and nobody faces more discrimination that the dead. He treats the dead like people because they are people, and they deserve to have their voices heard. That's what Empathy's for, and that's why he revives Wen Ning to stand as witness to his own murder. Wen Ning is not a thing! And even when Wei Wuxian is raising armies of dead Wens to fight on his behalf, we get illustrations of him giving a helping hand to a weak old corpse that can't stand on its own.

Wei Wuxian is painted in very deliberate contrast to Xue Yang, who treats the dead as tools and deprives them of agency. His closeness with them is a symbol of his kindness.

However, beyond treating the dead decently and like people, there is a point where his chumminess with them starts to get unsettling, and that's the point where it becomes a reflection of his loneliness and trauma. In particular, I'm thinking of his cuddliness with the ghosts he uses to torture Wen Chao and the corpse girls he's hanging out with when he invites Lan Zhan to drink with him. Because treating the dead with respect is a very different thing from having a corpse lay in your lap as you stroke its hair. And fierce corpses by definition do not have personalities (with Wen Ning as the exception that proves the rule), so treating them as companions to socialize with is rather concerning behavior.

So why is he like this? Isolation and trauma!

It's easy to understate the trauma of Wei Wuxian's three months in the Burial Mound, especially given that we don't see them play out but do get details about so many other horrible moments. But those three months? They Fucked Him Up. In particular, beyond the trauma of the near death experience (or presumably many many near death experiences in a row), he spent the better part of three months without seeing a single other living human. People are not meant to do that.

So what is a person gonna do when he spends three months in Worse Solitary Confinement? And when that solitude is spent on Fierce Corpse Mountain? He's gonna get really weird about corpses. He's gonna turn into the kind of man that would let a murderous ghost he's controlling lay in his lap as he strokes her hair, because for an extended period of time, that is the closest thing to human contact he's had access to.

And later, post-sunshot-campaign, Wei Wuxian does regain access to living humans and society, but he's still incredibly isolated. Just about everyone besides his siblings and Lan Zhan hates and/or is scared of him by the time we hit the scene of him and the fierce corpse girls throwing flowers, so it's no wonder he's hanging out with dead people. He already picked up the habit of replacing company with corpses once, so of course he doesn't see anything wrong with it. Maybe they're there as bodyguards, maybe he's just extremely lonely and doesn't have any human companions to drink with him, or maybe (probably) it's a mix of both. But in any case, it's a pretty clear expression of a horrifying degree of both past and present isolation.

That's why, though he doesn't lose his respect for the dead or his desensitization to touching corpses, we never see him just Hanging Out With Mindless Ghosts in his second life. It's a substitute for real companionship, not a healthy behavior, but lack of company is no longer an issue he has after being resurrected.

He doesn't need an entourage of corpse girls, because this time, when he wants company, he's always got Lan Zhan.

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jeannereames · 4 months

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Your top 5 Alexander the Great moments?

Top Five Alexander Moments

One issue with answering this is to figure out what events actually happened, especially when it comes to anecdotes! Here are four I find either significant to understanding his charisma and/or which explain how he functioned and why he was successful, plus one I like just because I’m a horse girl.

1) To my mind, the event that best illustrates why his men followed him to the edge of their known world occurred in the Gedrosian Desert. While I’m a bit dubious that this trek was as bad as it’s made out to be (reasons exist for exaggerating), it was still baaaad. One story relates that some of his men found some brackish water in a sad little excuse for a spring, gathered it in a helm, and brought it to him. Given his poor physical condition after the Malian siege wound, he no doubt needed it badly. He thanked them (most sincerely), then carried it out where all (or at least a lot) of his men could see, raised it overhead, and announced that until all of them could drink, he wouldn’t. Then he poured it onto the rocky ground.

That gesture exemplified his charisma. And it absolutely is not something the likes of a Donald tRump could even imagine doing—nor most dictators, tbh. They’d be blaming everybody else and calling for heads while drinking Diet Coke, not suffering alongside their people.

This wasn’t an isolated event of that type. While he almost certainly didn’t have time to engage along with his soldiers in every project, we’re told he would drop in from time-to-time, to inspire them and to offer a little friendly competition.

He also dressed like his men for everyday activities, especially early in the campaign. As time went on, some sources say he inserted more distance—probably necessary as his duties exploded—but he still seems to have found time to “just hang out” with his Macedonians on occasion. The claims that he was too high and mighty to do so appears to have been exaggeration (as such accusations often are) in order to forward a narrative that he was “going Asian.” Troop resentment over court changes was very genuine—I don’t want to underplay it (especially as I’ve written about it in a few chapters in this), but it tended to boil up during certain periods/events, then die back again. Alexander was trying to walk a very fine line of incorporating the conquered while not ticking off his own people.

2) Reportedly, he once threw a man out of line because he hadn’t bothered to secure the chin strap on his helm. I pick this one because it tells me a whole lot about how he saw himself as a commander, and what he expected of his men (and why he tended to consistently win).

On the surface, his reaction seems almost petty. It’s precisely the sort of mistake students whine about when professors ding them for it. It’s just a chin strap! I’d have tightened it before I went into battle! (It’s just a few typos; you knew what I meant! Or, Why does everything in the bibliography have to be exactly matching in style? Who cares? What a stupid thing to obsess about!) These objections are all of a piece. First, they’re lazy, and second, they indicate a disconcern with details. In battle, such disconcern can get a person killed. And on a larger scale, for a general, such disconcern loses battles.

One of the striking aspects of Alexander’s military operations was just how well his logistics worked. Consistently. We hear little about them precisely because they rarely fail. Food and water was there when they needed it, as were arrow replacements, wood to repair the spears, wool and leather for clothes and shoes, canvas for tents, etc., etc. All those little niggling (boring) details. If these are missing, soldiers become upset (and don’t fight well). Starting with Philip, the Macedonian military was a well-oiled machine. That’s WHY Gedrosia was such a shock: the logistics collapsed. Contra some historians, he did not do it to “punish” his men, nor to best Cyrus.* He had a sound reason—to scout a trade route.

Alexander understood that details matter. It starts with a loose chinstrap. (Or an unplanned-for storm and rebellion in his rear.) Everything else can unravel from that.

3) Alexander sends Hephaistion a little dish of small fish (probably smelts). He also helps an officer secure the lady of his dreams. And writes another on assignment (away from the army) that a mutual friend is recovering from an illness. While technically three “moments,” these are all of a piece. Alexander knows his men, and is concerned not only for their physical well-being, but also their mental state: that they’re happy. Granted, these are all elite officers, but it suggests he’s paying attention to people. I’ve always assumed he sent Hephaistion the fish because they were his friend’s favorite, and/or they were a special treat and he wanted to share. That he didn’t punish an officer for going AWOL to chase the mistress he wanted but offered advice, and even assistance, on how to court and secure her suggests the same care.

I don’t want to take away from what appears to be his serious anger management problems(!), but little details like those above strike me as the likeable side of Alexander—why his men were so devoted to him.

4) Then we have the encounter with Timokleia after the siege of Thebes. While probably a bit too precious to have occurred exactly as related, I think it may still hold a kernel of truth.

Alexander had a reputation of chivalry towards his (highborn) female captives. If some of that was likely either propaganda from his own time or philhellenic whitewashing later by Second Sophistic authors such as Plutarch (and Arrian), poor treatment of women is not something we hear attributed to him.

Ergo, while the meeting was probably doctored for a moral tail, he may well have freed Timokleia as an act of clemency to put a better face on a shocking destruction he knew wouldn’t sit well with the rest of Greece—who he both wanted to cow yet earn support from. (A difficult balancing act.) Also, if Timokleia hadn’t been high-born, she’d probably have been hauled off to one of the prisoner cages with little fanfare.

Nonetheless, I find his actions surprising given the casual misogyny of his era. If we can take the bare bones of the story as true, and it’s not all invented, Timokleia was raped as a matter of course during the sacking of Thebes, then managed to trick her rapist and kill him by pushing him down a well and dropping rocks on him. I assume this happened when his men weren’t there, but they found out soon enough and hauled her in front of Alexander to be punished for killing an officer. To the surprise of all, Alexander decided the man had earned it and freed Timokleia. One might be inclined to call this overly sentimental, but….

There’s a similar story that occurred much later in the Levant, when two of Parmenion’s men seduced/(raped?) the mistresses/wives of some mercenaries. Alexander instructed Parmenion to kill the Macedonians if they were found to be guilty.

In both cases, we have an affront against (respectable) women. In the latter case, Alexander was (no doubt) working to avoid conflict between hired soldiers and his own men, who—in typical Greek fashion—would have looked down on mercenaries as a matter of course. Some sort of conflict between Macedonians and Greek mercenaries up in Thrace had almost got Alexander’s father killed. Alexander saved him. No doubt that was on Alexander’s mind here.

Yet what both events illuminate is a willingness on Alexander’s part to punish his own men for affronts to honor/timē that involved women. Yes, this is clearly about discipline. But it also shows an unusual sensitivity to sex crimes in warfare: actions that would normally fall under the excuse of “boys will be boys” (especially when their blood is up).

I doubt he’d have felt the same about slaves or prostitutes; he was still a product of his time. Yet without overlooking his violence—sometimes extreme (the genocide of the Branchidai, for instance)—I find his reaction in these cases to be evidence of an atypical sympathy for women that I’d like to think isn’t wholly an invention of later Roman authors. And just might show the influence of his mother and sisters.

5) Last… the Boukephalas story…because who doesn’t love a good “a boy and his horse” tale? Obviously the Plutarchian version is tweaked to reflect that author’s later concern to contrast the Macedonian “barbarian” Philip with the properly Hellenized Alexander. Ignore the editorializing remarks, especially the “find a kingdom big enough for you” nonsense.

But the bare bones of the story seem likely: unmanageable horse, cocky kid, bet with dad, gotcha moment. You can imagine this was an anecdote Alexander retold a time or three, or twenty.

——

* His attempts to copy Cyrus may be imposition by later writers. In his own day, he may have cared more about the first Darius, for reasons Jenn Finn is going to explain in a forthcoming, very good article on the burning of Thebes and Persepolis.

#asks #Top Five Alexander the Great moments #Alexander the Great #Hephaistion #Hephaestion #Timoclea #Timoklea #Boukephalas #Bucephalas #Gedrosian Desert #ancient military logistics #Macedonian army #Alexander's logistics #Classics #ancient history #campaigns of Alexander the Great #tagamemnon

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cptrackham · 14 days

Text

Fic: A man is not dead while his name is still spoken

1,707 words. Set during Rebels, ft. Captain Rex.

A short story, because I refuse to believe that the clones' story - their mistreatment, abuse, betrayal - was allowed to fade into obscurity, until all that was left was three old men hiding out on Seelos. AO3 link here.

Kallus was waiting for them when the Ghost touched down on Yavin IV.

Or rather, waiting for Rex.

“Mothma and Organa are waiting for you, Conference room four,” Kallus muttered to him, as the rest of the squad began off-boarding procedures and checks.

What for?” Hera demanded. Ever the protector “Rex, you need me to come with?”

But Rex waved her off, running a hand over his bald head. “No, it’s alright,” he sighed. “I think I know what it’s about.”

It’s not like it was a secret. The news had even reached the Outer Rim by now. A scandal like this, news travels fast.

But not many people would know what it means to Rex. Organa was perhaps one of the last few to understand.

As the door slid open to the conference room, Mon Mothma and Bail Organa turned to face Rex with a sorrowful expression he’d become far too familiar with over his long years (metaphorically speaking). He hated it. “Senators,” he greeted.

Bail, only there as a full-sized hologram, smiled at him. “Rex, it’s good to see you,” Bail said, in a gentle tone that only served to put Rex more on edge. He didn’t want to have this conversation.

So he cut straight to the point. “I’ve already heard,” he said, perhaps a bit sharper than intended. “They’re playing it on the news in every port. Riyo – Senator Chuchi’s death. What happened?”

“As far as the public is aware, she died of a heart-attack following a particularly stressful debate in the Senate,” Mon Mothma said. “But, there is cause to suspect foul play was involved.”

Rex nodded. “Of course there is. Can we prove it?”

“It’s unlikely,” Bail said. “The press report was issued by Palpatine’s own office, they won’t allow an autopsy to reveal anything, and any dissidents – I’m sorry, Rex. With Riyo’s death, it’s clearer than ever that we are losing our grip in the Senate.”

For most of his life, Rex’s face had been hidden under his bucket, emotions indecipherable. He still hadn’t quite got the hang of schooling his expression. He took a deep breath, and forced his scowl to fade. It wasn’t their fault. Stars knew Bail did all he could. “I see. I… thank you, for thinking of me.”

“Of course,” Bail said, quickly, one translucent hand reaching forward as if the hologram could comfort him. “I know how close you and Riyo were, in the early days.”

“But, Captain, there is something else,” Mon Mothma cut in.

Intrigued against his better judgement, Rex glanced between the two of them. Bail was no longer quite meeting his gaze, and Mon Mothma had clasped her hands behind her back in that way she did before starting an important speech. “Oh?” Rex asked, hesitant.

“Riyo was a vocal component of our campaigning,” Mon Mothma said. “The most vital spokesperson in the senate, in fact. With her gone, we have, as Bail said, lost our hold in the Senate, and any hope we had of passing de-escalation, de-militarisation, and reparation bills has dropped significantly. In fact, we’re taking steps to withdraw key figures to positions of safety.”

“Including myself,” Bail cut in, with a wry smile. “I will be returning to Alderaan on a more permanent basis.”

“And, unfortunately, it means we’re having to abandon some of our current campaigns, even some of our most long-running ones.” Mon Mothma hesitated again. “Including Senator Chuchi’s Clone Rights bill.”

Rex almost laughed. Was this what they were so concerned about? For all Riyo’s efforts, that bill had died a slow and painful death years ago. “I understand, Senator,” he said, hoping Mon Mothma hadn’t yet spent enough time around soldiers to pick up the ‘no shit sir’ undertone.

But Bail raised a hand, as if to ask Rex to wait a moment. “We aren’t happy with this,” he said. “I, personally, cannot allow Riyo’s work to be dismissed so easily, not when she has probably lost her life because of how much she cared. So we were hoping you would help us take this case to an even more ruthless court.”

Rex frowned at him. What other court? All there was, was the Empire. And it wasn’t like the Rebellion had anywhere near enough funds to provide the pensions Riyo had promised.

Bail smiled. “The court of public opinion,” he clarified.

Mon Mothma took over, as if practiced. “We want to share the clone’s story,” she said. “Your story. It is, perhaps, one of the clearest examples of how underhand, how manipulative, how immoral the Empire and Palpatine himself are. It shows how everyone has been played for fools since before the war even started,” she said, passionate, and Rex remembered that Mon Mothma had been a Separatist. “It shows how none of us had a choice, how so many of us died for nothing. You and your brothers most of all. If you – and any of your brothers – would be able to share your story, it could make a huge impact on how the Empire is perceived. It could sway a lot of people.”

Rex took another steadying breath.

She wasn’t wrong.

“My brothers and I,” Rex said, slowly, parsing through his thoughts as he spoke, “Have spent a long time fighting to get out of the eye of the Empire. They gave us their attention once. It wasn’t good.”

Very few people knew the full truth of what the clones has lost, following Order 66. Mon Mothma and Bail at least knew enough to flinch at Rex’s harsh understatement.

“We understand,” Bail said. “I don’t expect you to come to a decision quickly. Take the time you need.”

“But don’t wait too long, Captain,” Mon Mothma said. “The Empire will make everyone forget Riyo Chuchi soon enough.”

Rex stared at her, unsure whether to resent her callousness, or admire the cold practicality. A solider through-and-through, he was leaning towards the latter.

He didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t, thoughts too full of his history, the chance to share it, and Riyo.

Falling back on muscle memory, he saluted, about-turned, and walked from the room.

It was Zeb who found him later. “You’re moping,” he said, nudging Rex to shuffle along the crate he was sat on and make room.

Rex sighed. “I’m old. I’ve seen a lot of shit. Sometimes, it requires moping. I’ve earned a good mope every now and then.”

Zeb chuckled. “Yeah, but no one’s allowed to mope alone. Hera’s orders.”

“I’ll be fine Zeb.”

“I know that. Want to take it up with Hera?”

Rex smiled – for a couple of seconds.

Zeb let him sit a silence for a good long while, the lasat instead paying attention to the bowl of food he’d brought with him. Rice dish, a concerning shade of red.

Most of the food was gone before Zeb spoke again. “You want to talk about it?” he asked, through a full mouth.

An easy dismissal sat on tip of Rex’s tongue, but he hesitated. Bail had said he understood, and he might have meant it with all the genuine goodwill in the galaxy, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Rex hesitated, before asking, “If you could tell everyone what happened on Lasan – the massacre, the ion disruptor rifles, how you’ve been persecuted and hunted since – would you do it?”

“Yes,” Zeb said, without hesitation, with an air of finality, and through another full mouth.

“Even if you knew it would put a high-priority target on the back of every lasat who survived?”

Zeb’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. He hesitated, then lowered it back to the bowl, swallowing his current mouthful loudly. “Alright,” he said, voice carefully measured, “that’s a bit of a problem, I’ll give you that. Is this a theoretical exercise?”

Rex shrugged. “Not exactly.”

Zeb fell silent again, food abandoned. “I think,” Zeb said, eventually, “that telling the truth is as much about stopping it happening to other planets, other cultures, as much as it’s about getting justice for me an’ mine. I think any lasat who lives is already suffering enough that another target ain’t gonna make that much of a difference. I think any lasat who’s survived this long, can take care of themselves. And I think I’d owe it to all who came before to have their death mean something, not just to me, but to anyone else who’d listen.”

Having said his piece, Zeb took another mouthful of rice and kept eating.

A few more bites in silence later, Zeb swallowed and asked, “Did that help?”

“Yeah,” Rex said. “Yeah, that helped.”

“Good. Now let’s go get you fed, before Hera hunts us down and skins me for wilful neglect of an elder.”

Rex went to Mon Mothma’s office early the next morning.

“I can’t promise you anything,” he said, before she could speak, “I can’t even say how many I’ll be able to contact, let alone how many will agree to it. But I’m going to need a bunch of brand-new encrypted channels, and a really long-range transmitter.”

“I am CT-7567, Captain Rex of the 501st Legion, CO of Torrent Company.”

“CC-36 36, Commander Wolffe of the 104th Wolfpack Battalion.”

“CT-9901, or Sergeant Hunter, CO of Clone Force 99.”

“I am ARC Trooper Echo, formally of the 501st and Clone Force 99.”

“I served as Sergeant Hound in the Coruscant Guard, this is Grizzer.”

“Commander Bly, CC-5052, of the 327th Star Corps, serving under General Aayla Secura.”

“I am CC-2224, Marshal Commander Cody of the 7th Sky Corps, CO of the 212th Attack Battalion, and Second in Command of the Third Systems Army under General Kenobi.”

“You probably think you know all you need to about us. I doubt many of you look at us favourably, these days, if you see any of us at all. You probably think we were loyal soldiers of the Republic, soldiers of the Empire. Some of you might think we were traitors to the Republic cause, who assisted with the Empire’s takeover of the galaxy. Some of you might even think we betrayed the jedi – and I can’t fault you for that.

“But, here’s some things about us you might not know…”

#captain rex #the bad batch #star wars rebels #the clone wars #oh gods what else to tag #my fic #the clone rebellion

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liaaacantwrite · 2 years

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Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now

Jonathan Byers x Reader (Explicit)

Summary: Jonathan really tried to keep his feelings to himself, but he’s almost reached his limit. Especially when Steve starts interfering.

warning! this fic contains pining, best friends to lovers, jealousy, very emotional sexual situations, 2 virgins going at it, oral (m and f receiving) and sub jonathan. also, this is set between season 2 and 3 but they’re both 18! :)

•••

The road had too many fucking potholes.

Jonathan tried his best to avoid them as his best friend, (Y/N), slept in the passenger seat of his car. It wasn’t easy, since the town of Hawkins clearly didn’t care about road maintenance, at least on this side of town.

“Jonathan?” She stirred in her sleep, slowing opening her eyes as she adjusted to the sunlight filling the car.

“Good morning,” he glanced over at her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “You were out like a light.”

They’d been driving for awhile at that point, returning from a daytrip to Indianapolis to fill Jonathan’s photography portfolio. He’d snapped a few images of her, as well, and even taught her how to use the camera in order to take some shots of him.

“We walked around the city for like four hours, I was exhausted.”

“Yeah, okay. Still had to drive in silence for like two hours.”

“Literally no one made you do that.”

He didn’t have a rebuttal, so he just kept driving. She turned on his car stereo and Blondie quietly filled the car. It was music that she had gotten him into a few years ago. She hummed along to the song and he smiled to himself.

He really wasn’t sure when he’d started having feelings for his best friend. If he absolutely had to decide on a moment, it was when they were 10. She had come over, like she did almost everyday, and hung out with him and Will while Joyce was at work. They were watching some cartoon Will had picked out when she turned to Jonathan, put her hands on his face, and stared deeply into his eyes.

“I need you to promise me something.” She looked deadly serious.

“Yeah?” He pulled her hands off of his face.

“When we go into middle school next year, you can’t abandon me for anyone else. Ever.” Her eyes were misty, as this was something she’d clearly been worrying about. Her older sister had confided in her that once middle school starts, friends change and grow apart. She’s absolutely die if that happened between her and Jonathan.

“I would never do that!” He seemed almost offended at the notion.

“Promise me?”

She held out her pinky, her nails painted green. He didn’t even think as he wrapped his pinky around hers, never even doubting for a second that they would be best friends forever.

“I promise.”

Looking back, he realized that it was her fear of losing one another, a fear he also shared, that made him really begin to crush on her. He’d kept his secret for 8 years now, and he was not about to blow it anytime soon. He’d rather be with her as just friends than risk losing her completely.

“Are you hungry?” She pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He actually wasn’t that hungry, but she wouldn’t have been asking if she wasn’t, so he decided he’d eat anyway.

“Pizza?” It was their go-to food, honestly.

“It’s like you read my mind.”

•••

Jonathan picked her up every single morning on the way to school. It brightened his morning to see her stumbling out of her house, still sleepy. He loved getting to spend extra time with her, and he would do pretty much anything for it.

One of Jonathan’s absolute favorite things about his best friend was how well she got along with Will. The three of them had grown up together, and so Will had honestly viewed her like an older sister. He’d come to her for advice pretty often, and sometimes they would hang out just the two of them. She even got along amazingly with Joyce!

“I’m just saying, you should really try it.” Will had been begging her to try playing D&D, his latest campaign needing one more party member. Max had downright refused, saying she didn’t ‘care about that nerdy shit.’

“Will, I would, but I’ve got so much schoolwork lately it’s ridiculous.” She’d joined one too many AP classes that year and was really suffering for it.

“Fine. Dustin said he would try to get Steve to join, anyway.” Will sat back in his seat, accepting her answer.

Steve was a hot topic between (Y/N) and Jonathan. She’d had a crush on the boy with amazing hair a few years prior, which had crushed Jonathan. He couldn’t help getting annoyed every time Steve was brought up, but he always made up excuses like ‘he’s just an asshole’ or ‘that guy? I bet he spends more time on his hair than he lasts in bed.’ Her crush had actually cooled down for a bit while he dated Nancy Wheeler, a good friend of hers, but ramped right back up when they split.

“Where are you guys having this campaign?” Jonathan really hoped Will would say anywhere but the Byers house.

“Our house. First part is today!”

Shit. She came over everyday to study in Jonathan’s room (and to hang out, too) so she was bound to see Steve.

Jonathan pulled in front of Hawkins Middle School, letting Will out. No one really liked for him to ride his bike anywhere after the events with Hawkins Lab.

“Be smart!” Jonathan called.

“Make good choices!” (Y/N) waved.

It was a little tradition they had with the younger Byers. They’d said it everyday when the dropped him off, much to his chagrin.

“Ugh!” He walked away.

Jonathan drove off, his mind racing with possibilities of (Y/N) and Steve together. Would he kiss her the way Jonathan wanted to? With one hand wrapped securely around her waist, the other entangled in her hair? Or would Steve have ways he hadn’t even considered?

“What’s bothering you?” Again, she pulled him out of his thoughts. He reminded himself that she was in his car right now, not Steve’s.

“Worried about that physics test.” He quickly lied. He actually was pretty worried about it, though.

“I’ll let you copy off me if you give me the English homework.” She smiled as he parked in the high school parking lot.

“Deal.” He smiled back at her. She always had a way of making him feel better.

But even as they walked through the halls, he kept thinking about Steve coming over that night. He tried to think of ways he could tell her not to come over. He couldn’t say he was feeling sick, as they were literally together all morning. He couldn’t say he didn’t want her to, as she’d see right through that. He just had to hope that Dustin wasn’t as good at convincing as Will hoped.

“—which is absolutely crazy, right? Jonathan?” He tuned back in, catching the end of what she was saying.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay today?” She put her hand to his forehead, butterflies filling his stomach.

“Didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I could stay over if you want. You know my mom’s okay with it.”

Another perk of being best friends literally their entire lives—sleepovers were a regular thing. As weird as he felt about it, Jonathan liked seeing her in her pajamas, seeing her in a way no one else did. He liked having her all to himself.

He really had an issue now. She would be so suspicious if he turned down a sleepover since he’d never done that before. In fact, he was usually the one suggesting them.

“Sure, yeah. I’m gonna head off to class.” He awkwardly mumbled, shooting off in the other direction.

She stared after him, wondering what his problem was. Anxiously, she bit her lip as she ran through all the possible things in her head, walking to her class. Maybe Joyce was nagging him about his grades? But that wasn’t very likely, as Joyce didn’t care about shit like that. Was he being bullied again? He would have told her, she hoped. (Y/N) froze, her thoughts coming to a complete stop.

What if he realized she was in love with him?

That would explain why he was so awkward with her today. God! She felt her stomach tie up in knots at the thought. There was no way, she’d been so careful. She’d been distracting herself with Steve Harrington, for fuck’s sake. After all, it was much easier to pine after someone she barely knew than face rejection from her lifelong best friend.

She tried to ignore those thoughts as she went through her classes, her anxiety building as lunch approached.

Jonathan was annoyed as he walked into the cafeteria. Steve had approached him in the hall just before to make sure it was okay that he was playing with the kids and if they would like him to bring pizza. It was even more frustrating that Steve was actually a pretty cool guy.

He made his way over to (Y/N), who sat reading a book. Taking a second to admire her before he sat, he really started to get nauseous at the thought of her and Steve.

‘Maybe he could actually treat her well. Maybe she deserves someone better than me.’ He thought as he slid into the seat across from her.

They didn’t speak as they both read, sharing large a bag of potato chips. It had been that way for years, a daily tradition they wouldn’t dream of breaking. There was just something so intimate in the silence, the comfort of it all.

Jonathan wouldn’t trade moments like these for all the money in the world.

•••

Steve was annoyingly on time with 5 pizzas. Cheese, pepperoni, supreme, meat lovers, and veggie. He was also frustratingly considerate, not really knowing who ate what.

Lucas, Will, Mike, and Dustin, along with Max and Eleven, who just wanted to watch, all sat sprawled across the Byers’ living room floor. The table was all set for the campaign, but being kids, they were all starving.

Jonathan and (Y/N) were studying in his room when Max came knocking.

“Harrington’s here with pizza!” She spoke through the door.

“Thanks!” (Y/N) called, closing her textbook.

Jonathan stayed still. He really didn’t feel like watching the love of his life fawn over someone he thought was so much better than him. He couldn’t help but compare himself to Steve. Harrington was taller, richer, conventionally more attractive, more athletic. He was more popular, and definitely more experienced when it came to women. Jonathan felt as though he was less than Steve in every aspect.

“Come on, Jon.” She pulled his arm, straining to lift him off the bed. “I’m hungry.”

“Ugh.” He groaned as he stood up. “Let’s eat in here.”

“I want to talk to the kids for a bit.” She walked out of the room.

When she entered the living room, Mike and Eleven were practically sitting on top of each other on the couch. Max and Lucas were sitting at the kitchen table, laughing and making jokes with Will. Dustin sat eating on the floor with Steve.

“(Y/N)!” Dustin smiled, pointing to the pizza. “Take your pick.”

She walked over to the boxes, taking two of the untouched veggie slices.

“Perks of liking your vegetables? You get a whole pizza to yourself.” She smiled as she sat on the floor with Dustin and Steve.

“I don’t know how you eat that crap.” Dustin scoffed.

“Compared to your meat monstrosity? I feel sorry for your toilet.” She laughed and he threw a piece of sausage at her.

All the kids looked up to the cool older girl that made an effort to spend time with them and understand them. She’d had special moments with each kid, but mostly Will and Lucas.

“I don’t know, I’ve always been a plain cheese guy.” Steve spoke up, finally. He’d been a little nervous.

Truth be told, he was kind of into (Y/N). She’d saved his ass from the demodogs a few months prior and he just hasn’t been able to look at her the same. Especially now that he and Nancy had broken up.

“Because you’re boring.” Dustin had become a lot more snarky lately.

“Rude! Just because he’s boring doesn’t mean you have to say it.” She teased, knocking her knee against Steve’s.

He ran his hand through his hair, practically preening for her attention.

It made Jonathan, who was watching from the kitchen table, sick to his stomach.

“Are you ever gonna make a move, man?” Lucas rolled his eyes at his best friend’s older brother.

“What are you talking about?” Jonathan looked absolutely perplexed.

“Come on, Byers. You’re so obvious it’s making me nauseous.” Max groaned as she put her pizza slice down, dramatically crossing her arms.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He shook his head at the trio of annoyed children.

“Your crush on (Y/N).” Will quietly spoke.

Jonathan shushed him anyway.

“You guys are crazy.” He stood, retreating to his room.

He wondered if he was actually that obvious as he slumped back onto his headboard. Grabbing his history homework, he tried to immerse himself in the assignment.

After about 10 minutes, (Y/N) entered his room.

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much” She grinned as she flopped on her stomach next to him on the bed.

“I almost died waiting for you.” He not-so-sarcastically replied.

“I’m here now. What’s going on in that big dumb head of yours?” She stared at him, head propped up by her palms.

“Nothing. Why do you keep asking me that today?” He shyer away under her gaze.

“Because you’re acting all weird. I’m allowed to be concerned about you.”

“Stop. I’m fine.” He didn’t look up from his homework.

She grabbed it from his lap, placing the paper on the floor.

“Jonathan. Talk to me.” She looked at him sternly.

He sighed, putting his head in his hands. She really was persistent.

“I wish you would just drop it.” His voice was muffled.

“Well, tough shit, Byers. I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me.”

He peeked out from behind his hands. Her eyes poured into his, full of concern. She looked absolutely gorgeous.

“Can you just drop it? I’ll tell you when everyone leaves, okay?” That would give him enough time to come up with something, right?

“Fine, but the second that door closes, you’re gonna spill.” She smiled and rolled onto her back, closing her eyes.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

•••

(Y/N) had wandered into the kitchen a while later, fetching a glass of water, when Steve popped up behind her.

“Hey, there.” He smiled, slightly posing with his hands on his hips.

“Hey. How’s the campaign going?” She took a sip from her glass.

“Well, I made a character and Will explained the basics of the game. That took like, an hour and a half. And now we’re setting up the actual world. That took another half an hour. So, pretty great?” He looked so confused, but he was really trying for these kids.

“I’m sure they really appreciate you trying, Steve. I know I certainly do.” She smiled ever so softly at him, the small action giving him heart palpitations.

“Listen, you need a ride home? I can take you. Maybe stop for a sundae or something?” He looked hopeful.

“Sorry, I’m staying the night. I really appreciate your offer, though!” She turned and walked out of the kitchen, feeling slightly guilty.

Steve Harrington had just asked her out and she turned him down.

She stepped into the bathroom, heart beating fast. As she stared at her reflection, she had a few realizations.

1) She would never be able to go out with someone while she had such strong feelings for Jonathan.

2) If Jonathan truly didn’t like her, she needed to get over him and put herself out there, and who could be better than Steve?

3) She needed to find out Jonathan’s feelings. Tonight.

She gently splashed some water in her face and tried to muster up some confidence as she concocted a plan. She’d listen to what was bothering Jonathan so terribly and then confess to her own bothersome issue. He’d be so willing to help, and she’d say outright ‘I’ve developed romantic feelings for you and I need to know if you feel the same.’

Easier said than done.

•••

Dread filled the older Byers boy as the kids all filed out of the house. Steve had decided to drive them all home since it was so late and it had begun raining, and they could come fetch their bikes later. Even annoyed with him, Jonathan had to admit Steve was pretty cool.

“Go to bed, dork.” (Y/N) was talking to Will, who was trying to help her clean up all of the pizza. “I’ve got this.”

“Okay. Goodnight, guys.” Will yawned as he wandered into the bathroom.

“What time is Joyce getting home?” She placed the pizza into tupperware, discarding the boxes into the trash.

“I think she’s working a double, so probably around 3AM?”

She nodded and he began helping her clean up after the kids. Soda cans, napkins, and paper plates were cleaned up slowly, Jonathan trying to extend the time as much as possible.

He still hasn’t come up with a good enough excuse.

“I’m going to change and then I want to hear all about what’s bothering you.” She walked past, heading into his room.

He had a drawer of her clothes, and she had one of his at her house. They were so entangled in each other’s lives that she began to second guess her plan. What would she do everyday without Jonathan? He drove her to school, drove her home, sat with her at lunch, stayed up all night talking to her. He was such a major part of her life that she really couldn’t picture what life would be like without him.

She pulled on her pajamas, some old sweatpants and a t-shirt, and opened the door. Jonathan was standing on the other side.

They followed their usual sleepover routine, him closing the door and changing while she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at her reflection again, scrutinizing her appearance. She was typically so confident, but so close to making a life-altering confession, she felt so undeserving of the love she was about to beg for.

‘Get it together!’ She internally battled with herself. ‘This is Jonathan you’re worried about. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.’

She took a few deep breaths, tucked her hair into a slightly more suitable fashion, and walked out of the bathroom.

“Okay, Jon. Spill.” She closed his bedroom door behind her, moving to sit on the bed next to him.

He hadn’t been this anxious in a while. Everything had paled in comparison to Will going missing, and while this wasn’t nearly as encompassing as that had been, he was still on the verge of a life-changing moment.

He had finally decided on just being honest. He couldn’t lie to her, and honestly he was dying to tell her his big secret anyway.

“Look, it’s embarrassing.” He tried one last time to get her to stop.

“More embarrassing than the time you pissed yourself in my bed?”

He blushed at the memory. He’d been around 8 at the time and he was dealing with a lot of nightmares about his father. Unfortunately, one was just so terrible that it caused him to have an accident in her bed.

“Oh, god. Stop bringing that up.” He covered his face with his hands in shame.

She grabbed his wrists, gently pulling them away from the face she adored so much.

“You can tell me, Jonathan. There’s absolutely nothing you could tell me that I wouldn’t accept you for.”

He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he made eye contact with her.

Memories of their years together flashed through his mind. Swimming at the local pool together, going to the movies with Will, sharing an ice cream cone when they could only afford one, dancing along to Blondie in the car, countless nights in each other’s rooms, holding each other as they cried when they believed Will was dead, and fighting literal monsters from another dimension.

They’d been together through everything.

“I don’t know how to say it, but just let me talk and don’t interrupt me, okay?” He avoided eye contact, opting instead to stare at his lap.

She nodded, signaling for him to go on.

“I really like you. And obviously you know that, you’re my best friend in the entire world, but it’s more than that. I like you, and it’s for a million reasons. It’s the way you’re always there for me, even in the worst moments of my life. It’s the way you just understand me, and how I never have to explain myself around you. The way you snore, even though you swear you don’t, and it keeps me up at night but I don’t even mind because it’s you who’s doing it. It’s the way you laugh, and how I can be having the worst day, but you make me laugh, too. It’s how you laugh at your own jokes harder than anyone else does, even when they aren’t that funny. How you’re so unbelievably smart and kind and interesting. It’s not just because I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, and it’s not just because I’ve known you since kindergarten. I’m not saying this because I expect you to like me back or whatever, this has just been building for so long, and I think I might have exploded if I didn’t say something.”

The silence that followed was earth-shatteringly loud. His thoughts ran a million miles a minute as he waited for her response, too anxious to risk glancing up at her.

If he had, he would have seen the tears looking in her eyes and the saccharine grin on her face as she tried to think of a response as poetic and sweet as the confession he just gave her.

“Jonathan—”

“Don’t feel like you have to say it back. I was just—”

“Jonathan.”

He finally, finally looked up at her, and he saw the pure joy etched onto her face.

“I really like you, too.” She grabbed his hand and he felt relief flood his veins.

“No way. You’re not fucking with me?” He couldn’t help but doubt her, as this would be the best thing to happen in his life if she was serious.

“Not at all. Can I ask you a question, though?” She inched slightly closer to him.

“Anything in the entire world.”

“How long?”

“Since we were 10.”

Nothing on the planet could have wiped the smile off her face. A demogorgon could walk in at that exact moment and she would tell it that her best friend was in love with her.

“You win. I think I was like 14 when I realized. You started keeping pads in your locker just for me and I knew that no one else would ever compare.”

He felt like he was floating. He honestly hadn’t expected things to work out in his favor. A large part of him had figured she would demand to be driven home and never want to speak to him again.

“Can I ask you one more question?” She looked down now, seemingly shy.

“Of course.”

“Can I kiss you?” She looked into his eyes now, a glint of something he had never seen before lurking.

He nodded eagerly, his hands coming to rest on either side of her face as she mirrored his actions.

They leaned in synchronously and if Jonathan thought he was overjoyed before, his heart almost burst as their lips met. Soft, tender, and eager, their kiss was passionately sweet. It was years of love finally coming to fruition, both lovers tasting like toothpaste. She slid one of her hands into the hair just above his neck and his mind went completely blank.

Although he could feel his need for air growing, he didn’t want to part from her mouth for even a second. Luckily, she valued air slightly more than Jonathan’s lips and pulled apart for the both of them.

“Is this a weird time to ask if you want to be my girlfriend?” He let out a soft laugh as she shook her head.

“Not weird at all. I was just about to ask you the same thing.” She played with his hair, running her fingers through the strands as their foreheads rested against each other.

“If I wanna be your girlfriend?”

She giggled and nodded.

“This is not how I pictured this night going.” She leaned back in to kiss her new boyfriend.

The angled was slightly awkward, his legs hanging off the side of his bed as she sat cross legged facing him, so she moved to straddle his lap. He gasped at the new position they were kissing in, something he hadn’t expected in the least.

“Is this okay?” She asked, concerned she had crossed a boundary.

“More than okay. God, this is like a dream come true.”

He softly pulled her face back to his and kissed her cheek, beginning a trail down her jaw. One arm wrapped firmly around her waist and he settled in a malleable spot on her neck, kissing and lightly sucking as her mouth hung open above him. She whimpered slightly, only egging him on.

“Jonathan!” She moaned, arching her back into his touch.

He’d never heard something as beautiful as the way she said his name, her voice full of need.

As he moved back to kiss her mouth, neither of them could really say how long they’d been making out for. The storm raged on outside as they continued to explore this new element of each other.

Spurred on by lust, (Y/N) gently rocked her hips against Jonathan’s, the untold amount of kissing igniting primal reactions.

He stilled, growing hard and embarrassed as she pulled away from his mouth.

“Sorry! I don’t know why I did that.” She rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“No, no. It’s fine, just…unexpected.” He ran the hand that wasn’t holding her pressed to him through her hair now. “It was pretty hot.”

Her cheeks grew hot as she took in what he said. Hot? She could definitely work with that.

Bringing her face back to his, she paused just before connecting their lips. Rolling her hips once more, she relished in the soft groan Jonathan let out.

“I like that sound.”

She pressed her lips to his, continuing the movement of her pelvis against his. He could feel himself growing harder at each rock, the pleasure shooting through him. He’d never felt anything down there besides his own hand, so this was completely new to him.

“(Y/N), please.” He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for, but he just felt so damn good under her that he would take anything she gave him.

She grinned into their heated kiss, pushing him onto his back as she continued to grind into him.

They stayed like this for awhile until Jonathan ever so gently pulled away.

“Jonathan, I really want to fuck you right now.”

He could’ve sworn he heard her wrong. He was already lucky enough, kissing her and finally being her boyfriend after all these years. Now she wanted to have sex? With him?

“Is that okay?” She was anxious that she’d crossed a line now, that he wouldn’t want her anymore.

“Is that…yeah. Yeah, I want to fuck you too.” The words were choked out, his head spinning.

“Okay. That’s gonna be tricky with all these clothes on.”

She reached down to the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it off as he sat up slightly to assist her. This was the first time she felt she could really admire him shirtless as he laid bare in front of her.

Jonathan had always felt like he was way too scrawny. He’d shied away from the mirror every time he found himself in front of it, but here? Now? With her looking at his chest like that, with so much love and lust in her eyes, he felt beautiful.

He shyly placed his fingers just under the hemline of her shirt, not daring to actually take it off. She giggled at this, and actually removed the shirt.

Since she was planning on going to sleep, she obviously hadn’t been wearing a bra. Jonathan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized her breasts were right there, fully exposed to him.

“Holy shit.” He breathed, admiring them.

“You can touch me.” She smiled, grabbing his hand and bringing it to her chest.

He might have sound a bit perverted, but he had been dreaming about this moment since he first started having sexual feelings. He massaged her gently, the flesh between his fingers much softer than he had ever imagined.

In an act of boldness that he didn’t know he possessed, he sat up, using this new angle to latch onto her nipple. She gasped, both out of shock and arousal, and ran her fingers through his hair.

Emboldened by her sounds, he brought his hand to her other nipple and began to play with it, the action slightly clumsy but overall pleasant. She moaned above him and reached down to undo the tie on his sweatpants.

“Off.” She ordered, causing him to lift his hips as she pulled them off of him.

She noticed how his dick strained against his boxers, a small stain of his arousal forming. It just turned her on more as she stood to slide her own pants off.

He took this moment to admire her naked, something he had never seen before. The curve of her hips, the round of her stomach, the indent of her waist, the stretch marks that expanded all over. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

“Jesus, (Y/N). You’re the most gorgeous girl in the entire world.”

She grew more confident with his words, twirling around for him. He felt like the luckiest guy in history to be here with her in this moment.

She crawled back over him, grinning when his hands flew down to the swell of her ass.

“Do you have a condom?” She cocked her head to the side.

He immediately groaned in shame, knowing he didn’t have one, as he’d never needed one before this very moment.

“No.” He began to detach himself from her until she shook her head and moved his hands back to where they were.

“There’s stuff other than penetrative sex, y’know.”

He nodded, bringing her mouth back to his. Even with the prospect of oral sex looming, he just wanted to kiss her until his lips hurt. Even then, he’d probably still want more.

She sat on top of him, straddling his hips in nothing but her underwear. Warmth radiated from both of them as she pulled away from the kiss to look into his eyes.

“Can I just say that this might be the happiest I’ve ever been?” She placed a loud, comical kiss on his cheek.

“I know for a fact that this is the best moment of my life.” He was breathless as he held her tighter.

“I know a way to make it better.”

His feet were still planted on the floor as he sat horizontally on his bed. This position made it much easier for her to slide onto the floor between his legs, her hands coming to rest on his thighs.

“What are you doing?” He sat up halfway, resting his weight on his elbows.

“Showing you my appreciation.”

A soft, surprised exhale left his lips as she kissed him over his underwear. It was a foreign sensation that he never knew he needed so badly.

“Appreciation for what?”

The mischievous smile she wore faded slightly as she began to look very serious.

“Always being there for me. Loving me for all these years, caring about me. I never figured you’d care for me like this,” she rubbed her hand slowly over his dick, making him close his eyes in pleasure. “And now that I know it’s mutual, I wanna treat you right.”

He just nodded, her hand still moving. He wished he could have some sweet reply, but her hand just felt so good that it was all he could register. She brought her fingers to the elastic band of his underwear and leisurely brought the fabric down.

“You’ve been hiding this from me for years?!” Her eyes widened at the sight of him, much larger than she had anticipated.

He was confused. He didn’t think he was really that big, honestly. He’s definitely seen bigger in the boy’s locker rooms at school, but hearing her reaction really stroked his minuscule ego.

(Y/N), on the other hand, was clenching her thighs together at the cock she now held in her hand. It was a little above average but she’d never seen one in person anyway, and it certainly looked like it would still hurt going in. She brought her mouth to it, placing a soft kiss to the pink tip, and began swirling her tongue around as she placed him in her mouth. He groaned again as she began to bob her head, sucking slightly.

He tasted salty as she continued and he couldn’t believe how amazing her mouth felt. Her mouth, that constantly called him a dumbass, was enveloped around him. His dick was hitting the back of her throat.

She was fucking blowing him.

“Oh, god, (Y/N).” If just her mouth felt this good, would he actually ascend to heaven when he fucked her?

“So pretty.” His hands gripped the comforter below him and he tried to keep his eyes open, tried to cement the sight of her on her knees for him to memory.

She kept moving her head, sucking and licking, while her hand worked to please him when she couldn’t reach the base of his cock.

“I’m really close.” He murmured, voice dripping with lust. He was practically whining.

“Come in my mouth.” She pulled off of him for a moment to speak, and then continued pleasing him.

Just the thought of her swallowing his seed, the lewdness of it all combined with the fact that the love of his life was giving him a mind blowing blowjob, sent him over the edge. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he came, stifling his moans as she swallowed around him.

As she clambered back onto the bed, Jonathan tried to remember the article he’d seen a few years ago about giving a woman head. He could remember a few key points, like focusing in the clitoris and how to find the g-spot, but there was so real explanation of how to ask.

“(Y/N), I really want to…uh…” He felt so stupid as he pulled at the band of her underwear.

“You tired?”

“No, I want to…eat you.”

“Eat me?!”

“Eat you out!”

Her already soaked underwear stood no chance now as she laid back on his bed, on her best friend’s boyfriend’s bed and spread her legs. He settled himself between them and kissed the inside of her thigh as she ran her fingers through his hair again.

“You ever done any of this before?” She looked down at him, already knowing the answer.

“You were my first kiss tonight.” He blushed as he buried himself in the crease where her pelvis met her leg.

“Oh, god. That’s really hot.”

Fingers coming to wrap around the fabric, he readied himself to actually see her most vulnerable parts. This was a hard line they were crossing and he couldn’t be happier.

Thunder rumbled loudly as he pressed a tentative, unsure kiss to her core. She giggled and he used his fingers to spread her labia as he looked for the little bundle of nerves that was soon to become his buddy. Finding it, he used his thumb and began to rub circles around it, knowing he succeeded as she squirmed under him in pleasure.

“That feels good.” She usually just played with herself, as no one had ever gone down on her before. It was a lot better when someone else was doing it.

He continued his movements, licking a stripe up her love box and truly beginning to eat her out. He was pretty eager for his first time, literally tongue fucking her as his thumb continued it’s grueling pattern of circles on her clit. Her hips rolled against his face, slightly skewing his rhythm, so he wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulling her legs onto his shoulders. This leverage really worked for him, his tongue travelling deeper as she melted into a puddle under him.

Her hands never left his hair, pulling wildly as she crumbled underneath him. She tried to keep quiet, as Will was sleeping in the next room, but Jonathan felt so good that she had to bite her lip to keep it down. Looking down at her new lover, she couldn’t hold back the moan that left her lips when he looked into her eyes.

“Jonathan, I’m really close.” She whispered, her voice absolutely sinful.

“Come in my mouth.” He repeated back to her, speeding up his thumb.

She had to pull one of his pillows over her face as she came, unable to keep quiet from the pure pleasure he’d given her. They were both lightheaded as he pulled away from her legs, climbing up to cuddle her.

“I know you have to go pee so you don’t get a UTI, but can I just hold you for a minute?” He wrapped an arm around her waist, still shocked at the entire night.

“Yeah. This was really fucking fun, by the way.” She turned to face him, her hands on his cheeks.

“We should do this more often.” He placed a sweet and quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Okay. But I really have to piss, Byers.”

He watched as she pulled on his pajamas and left the room.

•••

The next morning, Joyce woke up to the usual routine. Jonathan cooking breakfast while Will and (Y/N) sat at the breakfast table doing some last minute homework.

“You guys, I can’t find my keys.” She was bustling around the house looking for them when (Y/N) held them out in her hand.

“They were in the pantry.” She smiled at Joyce, who just hugged her in return.

“Are those Jonathan’s pajamas?” She pulled away and looked between the two nervous seniors.

“Uh, yes. They are.” She nodded nervously.

“We’re together now, Mom.” Jonathan turned away from the stove to look at his mother.

“About time! I was wondering how many night shifts I needed to work before you guys talked about your feelings.” She laughed and kissed Will’s head as she left for work.

The three of them looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Jonathan couldn’t have been luckier.

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #charlie heaton #jonathan byers smut

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tayrcse · 11 months

Text

Drowning

✎ summary: Eddie’s death was hard on everyone. But for you, his best friend, your grief is becoming unbearable.

✎ warnings: angst, mentions of death

✎ characters: Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, Steve Harrington

✎ word count: 534

Still got your number in my phone

And even though you don’t know I listen

I still call and wait ‘til the tone

Just to hear you saying, “Leave a message.”

“Thanks for calling the Munson residence. Sorry we couldn’t take your call. Leave a message and we’ll get back to you… or not. Who knows?” Eddie’s voice comes through the phone, and for a moment, you almost laugh at his antics. Then it hits you that this is the only way you’ll ever hear his voice again, and you start sobbing harder than before.

It’s been nearly a month since Eddie’s death, and you were not handling it well. You had barely left the house, and when you did, it was only to go to the grocery store. All of your other friends were busy with helping out at the crisis center, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join them. You couldn’t imagine a world without Eddie, so you decided it was best to not face the world at all.

So, I’m gonna pull out pictures, ones with you in ‘em

Laugh and cry a little while reminiscing

Placing the phone down, you pick up your favorite picture of Eddie instead. It was taken after a D&D campaign, and you, Eddie, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were all making funny faces at the camera. A strangled laugh escapes you as tears continue to roll down your face. God, you missed him. You missed his laugh. You missed his jokes. You missed him.

I can’t help

That all I think about is

How you were taken way too soon

You still remember it clearly. How Eddie had cut the rope connecting Hawkins and the Upside Down, taking it upon himself to be the hero. You cursed him for not listening to Steve. You cursed him for leaving you. But mostly, you cursed yourself for not being able to save him.

It ain’t the same here without you

I gotta say, missing you comes in waves

And tonight I’m drowning

Life just wasn’t the same without Eddie. Everything seemed duller, as if all the light in your world died along with him. You hated that the world kept moving. You hated that Eddie was just another casualty in this years-long fight against Vecna. You hated that no one seemed to care that he was gone. You could feel yourself losing to the grief, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight anymore.

Yeah, I know you’re in a better place

And one day I’ll see you again

But it's killing me we can't be face to face

I miss my best friend

You had never believed in heaven or hell or anything after death. But you found yourself praying to a god you didn’t believe in that there would be a time when you could see Eddie’s face again. A time where you could hug him like your life depended on it. You missed your best friend. But there was nothing you could do to bring him back, so instead, you let the sorrow wash over you. You let the tears flow endlessly, hoping they would wash away the pain. You let yourself grieve.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #spotify #tayrcse #Spotify

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whumpbby · 5 months

Note

Thinking back to that omega JC with alpha NMJ idea, both outcomes are interesting but I find myself more captivated by the version where NMJ lives, the guy doesn't get to live very often after all. He deserves some good things to finally happen to him. The same goes for WQ (and maybe WN). Who I just realized would have a blast taking on the challenging mystery of the Nie's saber technique. Go play God girl.

Sometimes I forget how creative omegaverse allows one to be, not just with the dynamics but with packs too. Both NMJ and JC are dynamic leaders of their inner pack (family) and general pack (sect); both of which have recently taken major casualties. Their instincts are hypersensitive right now. Something they don't fully realize until the baby can be felt kicking not just JC's belly but their parental instincts into overdrive.

God I just want to see these two be parents! JC doesn't have JL anymore because JYL and her husband are thankfully alive and NMJ is finally able to experience parenthood thanks to also being alive. I wonder what type of uncle NHS would make?

Some last thoughts, at least JC has JYL to ask questions about parenthood, WWX will get to be a proper uncle this time, and A Yuan can keep his Wen family. Truly this is a happy timeline.

Sorry for the long time it took me to answer this ask, I needed to put my thoughts in order about this AU, becuase there are A LOT of thoughts about this AU!

I love omegaverse - it allows to pull in such a variety of subjects and themes, from straight-up porn to some really good character analysis and world building:)

In the 'NMJ lives' option, the plot goes a bit different than in canon - NMJ is a rash and righteous character, but I don't believe that he's politically dumb. He's set in his ways and inflexible, sure, but he can see the bigger picture (something that JC is not able to do at the moment due to stress, inexperience and having approx. 3h of sleep a week). He knows what sort of a viper JGS is and how the Jiang being weak benefits the Jin - and how he didn’t have a horse in this race until the option of an heir by JC came up.

Now, the Jiang being strong again will benefit the Nie - a pact with a trade-oriented region? Yes, please. After the war, they all need that. No wonder JGS is so keen on destabilising the region - with his son married to the Jiang Yanli the man probably thinks he has first pick of the trade deals.

However, if NMJ has a child via the current Jiang clan leader, then the Nie get the political priority and that's tempting. The Jin don't need any more power in their hands - and it's obvious that's what JGS is aiming for and JGY is helping him achieve in front of everyone's faces.

Well, then. Huaisang isn't the only one with a mischievous streak in this family. There are not many chances to indulge in it as a Sect Leader - but pissing of other sect leaders is a long-reaching tradition in the sphere of Great Sects. NMJ wasn't leading the charge against the Wen just so the fat cats that barely lifted a finger could reap the benefits.

And thus begins Nie Mingjue's campaign to be the biggest pain the JGS's ass he can manage to be. He's still pissed off at JGY, so he channels that into less screaming and more interrupting him whenever some speech about Yiling Laozu starts winding up. At Huaisang's prodding, he brings his oldest advisors to the conferences, the old sly foxes that served his father and has them look out for the issues that may evade him. Yao sect leader is so brave when ranting against a young omega sect leader, but somehow has little to say when an imposing alpha growls at him to shut up from across the room.

And it's fun. Most fun MNJ had since the war has started. It relaxes him a little, allows him to focus on something else than the despair of losing so much to the Wen (and trusting the wrong people). It allows him to see the bigger picture a bit more clearly - and while the Nie never paid much attention to the rest of the cultivation world, the threads he can see now aren't running in a good direction. They are staring into the face of another war - all for a pathetic handful of war prisoners and a piece of metal Jin Guangshan apparently cannot live without!

So, yes, it makes perfect sense to get himself involved at this point and help out a fellow sect leader forged in the flames of war. It would be damn shame if the Jin got to fold Yunmeng into their coffers and take the one eligible gentry omega for themselves.

And, that is not to be understated, Jiang Wanyin isn't hard on the eyes in any measure. And talking to him proved that he isn't much as the rumours painted him - not a rash, angry shrew. Not like his mother was described. He is raw and inexperienced, yes, and very defensive - but he's also reasonable and respectful, and willing to discuss his points until pressed into arguing them. He's honourable and honest. No wonder Meng Yao is able to talk circles around him.

Having a kid with an omega like that isn't a bad idea.

Hell, maybe he even allows JC to take him to the Burial Mounds to see in person how Wei Wxian's army fares... and yeah, that's what he expected tbh. Well, the pup running around is a surprise, but otherwise yeah, he's shivering in his boots. He's not going to admit he was wrong to want them dead - never - but he can admit that they're too pathetic to be a danger to anyone at this point. Seeing the fames Ghost General weeding turnips puts things into perspective a bit. (Maybe that's how he comes across Wen Qing and she makes her case about helping with the family curse?)

#headcanon #jiang cheng #nie mingjue

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frankie-mercury · 2 years

Note

sorry i meant can u do 2 + 7 from the prompt list with eddie munson with smut🙏🙏🙏

I am so sorry this took so long. I had a dry spell where I wanted to do anything but write, bud here it is finally! It’s just a blurb, I literally had no inspiration what so ever to finish this unfortunately. Not proof read but I needed to get it out for you.

2) “Don’t look at me like that, you know what it does to me”

7) “Does it feel good when I touch you here?”

Warning: oral (f receiving), p in v intercourse, pet names: sweetheart, baby, use of pussy/cunt.

MDNI THIS IS 18+ CONTENT

Looking back, you hadn’t meant for things to end up here, Eddie’s hands gripping your waist as he took his time slowly thrusting inside you, enjoying your strained whimpers for him to just move faster. Not that you were complaining though.

Things started innocently enough, Eddie working on another campaign while you sat across from him on his bed reading the latest novel you had fixated on. From his sighs alone you could tell he was frustrated, his fingers unconsciously fiddling with his rings being another tell.

“Eds, you’ve been working on that for a while, why don’t you take a break.” You said without looking up from your book.

“Can’t.” Was all he offered you, shaking his head. Shrugging in response you continued to read, biting your lip in frustration at his next sigh, closing your book at the one that followed.

“What’s got you so stumped Munson,” you murmured, setting your novel down and looking over at what he had written, upside down in your position.

“It’s too easy. Henderson always figures this shit out and I know he won’t have any trouble with this. But if I bring in the undead too soon it loses the affect.” He said finally making eye contact with you. You picked up what he had been working on, reading through what he had planned already. Admittedly he was right, this would be a walk in the park for Dustin.

“You’re not gonna like this, but I say scrap it,” you said, slowly making eye contact with him again, biting your lip in anticipation for his response. When he didn’t respond right away you thought for a moment that you had actually insulted him. Only when his hand reached forward to brush against your lip, pulling it from under your teeth did you realize that he was anything but insulted.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know what it does to me.”

“Like what! I was just looking at you,” you said with a soft laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not my fault you’re so horny all the time.”

“You weren’t complaining last night,” he said lowly, moving his dnd supplies from the bed as well as your book, nearly manhandling you into his lap. “In fact you were quite the enthusiastic partaker if I remember correctly.” He murmured, lips gently kissing up your neck. You laughed softly, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pulled him closer. Nipping his way up you’re jaw he turned you to face him, biting your bottom lip gently before kissing you. A soft groan fell from your lips, fingers working their way into his hair, tugging softly.

“I was tryin’ to be nice,” he groaned, hips grinding up into yours. “But you’re makin’ it awfully hard,” he breathed with a chuckle, moving you to lay down on his bed. He continued kissing you as he pulled up your shift, swatting you’re hands away from your pants. “So impatient, did I not take care of you well enough last night?” He coped softly, smirking at you as he slowly worked at unbuttoning your jeans.

“Eddie please don’t tease,” you breath shaking your head. “I need you.”

“And you have me. Need you to be more specific sweetheart,” he murmured, tossing your pants to the side and pulling up his shirt. You sighed happily as he slowly undressed, hands reaching up to smooth down his chest, fingers dancing over the dark ink that stood out against his skin. “Gotta be more specific.”

“Want you to touch me,”

“Am I not touching you?” He asked cockily, hands stroking your things slowly, fingers teasing along the edge of your panties occasionally. You groaned in frustration, grabbing his hand and placing him where you needed him, a quiet moan falling from your lips when he slipped your panties to the side to play with your clit. “This where you needed me? So wet and I’ve barely done anything, you spoil me baby,”

“Eddie please, just fuck me,”

“Gotta make sure your ready, don’t wanna hurt your pretty pussy,” he said moving down to kiss above your panties, pulling them off completely, lips slowly making their way down to your core. Spreading your legs he gave the softest kiss to your clit, smiling at the sensitivity before licking a long strip up your folds, thumbs spreading you for him to get a proper taste.

“Ed- shit, feels so good.” You groaned, a hand gripping his hair as he ate you out, hips rocking up against his mouth.

“Does it feel good when I touch you here?” He said eyes meeting yours, pupils dilated with lust.

“Yes fuck, so - shit - so good,” you nodded, back arching in pleasure as his tongue delved further inside you. It always seemed that Eddie got personal pleasure from eating you with how dedicated he was to making you feel good. “More please,” you moaned, fingers tugging at his hair again, Eddie groaning in response. Adding two fingers, he focused more on suckling at your clit, a hand pressing down on your abdomen to keep you still. You could see his hips rutting into the bed as he ate you out, his other free hand moving to loosen his jeans, groaning once he got his fly undone.

“Sound so fucking pretty for me,” he said, pulling his fingers out and chuckling at you’re unhappy whine. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll fill you up again,” he said giving your cunt one last luck before getting his jeans and boxers off, stroking himself slowly. “Ready for me?” You nodded, fingers reaching down to slowly rub your clit. “As pretty as you look right now, I need to hear it.” He said.

“Yes Eddie, fuck me please.”

“Can’t say no to that now can I?” Gathering some of your slickness for lube he spit on to his cock, stroking himself slowly again before settling between your things. He teased with the head a few things, pushing in slightly only to pull back out. You were about to complain about him going too slow until he filled you up, hands gripping your waist. Head falling back a low “fuck” fell from his lips as he adjusted to your tightness, his hands on your hips grounding himself. “Always so goddamn tight for me,”

He started a slow pace, thrusting into you with precision. He knew your body like the back of his hand, both of you having time to explore one another for months.

“Eddie, faster,” you whined, looking up at him eyes hazy.

“I’ll go faster when I choose, to go faster sweetheart,” he breathed, eyes focusing on where the two of you were connected. “Don’t be greedy baby, you wanted my cock, you’ll take what I give you”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson/reader #smut blurbs

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dreamer213 · 1 year

Text

Broken Machines: Lights the Dark

Chapter 32: Free Fall

For the next two weeks, Whitley was strikingly productive in all areas. Working hard to keep up with his new schedule and following orders flawlessly with a pep in his step, his previous gloominess seemingly disappearing overnight. Jacques was quite satisfied with this outcome while the staff and Willow still worried for the young boy’s well-being. Little did they know Whitley had plenty to be happy about, not that he would let any of them know that as he stealthily carried out his plans. The first of which was to gather the resources he’d need for his little “trip”, starting with a phone. With his father busy with prepping for his campaign Whitley was tasked with managing the cleaning out of the old things as Jacques bought new clothes and electronics for his up-and-coming political career. This meant he had to organize the removal of all the family members' old clothing and swiping out older tech for the latest models without losing any data.

Whitley chose to start with the electronic for a medley of reasons. He purchases the technology, supervises their delivery, and handles the data transfers himself. When no one’s looking he copies files that could be or are incriminating to different drives and has Mary hide them in an old dresser in the back of a nearly abandoned storage room, one of their many hiding places for evidence. As he looked through a stack of burner phones, Whitley noticed some were still in their packaging unused.

Whitley: Perfect.

He thought before pocketing a couple of them for himself and disposing of and replacing the rest. With step one out of the way step two begins. What is step two? Money. Getting anywhere in any city always required some money and for what Whitley had planned he’d need a lot of it. Taking advantage of the clean-out Whitley gathers together all the clothes, shoes, and accessories he’s outgrown and calls Julia in for assistance. She comes into his room a bit confused but willing to help in any way she can. Whitley greets her warmly as he finishes separating the clothes into piles.

Whitley: Thank you for coming Julia. I know your section has been busy recently.

Julia: It’s nothing, Young Master. Now, what did you need my help with?

Whitley: It’s a bit of an odd question but I’d like to know what the market value would be for some of my old things.

He says gesturing toward the neatly stacked piles of apparel. Julia steps forward and looks over the items carefully. Being a Mantle-born fashionista, she’d thrifted or bargained for most of the high-quality goods she owned so she knows the discount and resell market like the back of her hand. And from what she could see these piles could easily be gold mines. The clothes were of great quality, from good brands, and very lightly used, they’d turn a quick profit if sold to the right thrift shops or an even bigger profit if sold separately online. As for the bit of jewelry in the mix, last season's cufflinks, watches, and the like could easily be pawned for a hefty price. Yes, this could be a good hall if sold correctly the type that could feed a small family for a month or two if they budget well.

Julia: Yes, yes.

She states nodding as she picks up a shirt and inspects it closely, trying to calculate just how much it could sell for at this very moment.

Julia: Honestly, this shirt alone could sell for at least 10000 lien give or take a few thousand depending on the store. And the jewelry could be up to 50000 a piece if pawn off and maybe double that if put up for auction.

Whitley: I see.

Whitley walks to her side and picks up the piles closest to them, gently placing a few pieces of jewelry on top before revealing the real task he needs her to do.

Whitley: Then would you mind selling these off for me?

Julia: Excuse me?

Whitley: Instead of disposing of these clothes I want you to sell them. Quickly and quietly if possible.

Julia: Ookay? But may I ask why? What would you have to gain from selling some old clothes for what amounts to chump change to someone of your prestige?

Whitley: Oh, it’s not about the money I just wanted to research the topic a little for the sake of the Father’s campaign.

Julia: For Master’s campaign?

Whitley: Yes, with him running for a role that affects not just Atlas but the entire kingdom we'll be in the public eye more than ever, and as you know my father doesn’t have the best reputation with people outside high society.

Julia: Indeed. Though that’s the understatement of the freakin century.

Whitley: So, I’m looking into ways to help him appeal to the working class. But with him buying himself a new campaign wardrobe and this cleanup I realized this all could seem extremely wasteful to the general public and put him at an even greater disadvantage with Mantle voters than he already is. So, I decided to try a few different methods of disposing of old goods firsthand before proposing anything to Father.

Julia: I see, but wouldn’t donating be more-

Whitley: And because of this is out your usual duties I’ll give you 40% of the profit for your assistance.

Julia: Pardon?

Julia’s eyes widen at bit as she pauses her questions at the offer of extra monetary gains. Whitley doesn’t change his expression but gives her a second to calm down from her surprise before he continues.

Whitley: I’ll give you 40% percent of the earnings as a handling fee while I hold on to the rest for future donation if things start looking grim. This way I can create a trail of reselling and have a nice mint to drop on whatever cause is most influential when the time is right. So, will you help me?

Julia: O-of course! It would be my pleasure!

Whitley: Thank you, Julia. Please try to get it done as soon as possible.

Julia: Yes, sir! I��ll get it done before the end of the week!

She says cheerfully while taking the stack and rushing out of the room to go find a good box to store them in. Whitley waves her off before getting back to work and to planning. With step two in motion, step three would be his focus until the funds were secured. Step three was simple, figuring out transportation. Living in a large city, especially the capital of the kingdom, meant that transport was both public and private were commonplace. A ride between cities, either way, was just a phone call and cab fare away, and the vast subway situation was easy to navigate if you had a map and train pass. Whitley only had to do was doing some research between paperwork and indirectly asking Godfrey what station he use to pick Penny up from, disguising the question as gathering information about the transportation system for one of his father’s campaign speeches. Now that he had a route, funds were coming in and he had the means to communicate all Whitley could do now was wait. Wait until he found an opening, a chance to make his move and get to the hard part of his plan.

Meanwhile, Penny was managing her return to normalcy decently well. There had been some fallout coming from the theft situation, lowering trust in officials, more bar brawlers on weekdays and street thugs moving away from the factory routes to around the subway to find easier prey, but she handle it all gracefully. Penny still performed her job with the same efficiency as before and was less tired because of her newly scheduled break times. Ten minutes in the morning, a lunch break after patrol, and ten in the afternoon. The last break happening after her duties of overseeing training sessions or once she’s done checking in on the Maiden with Winter. That part being the newest and only addition to her schedule that she was aware of before it happened. Monday and Friday she would join Winter and help care for Freya, making sure she takes her medication, checking her for bed sores, helping her do light exercises to keep her fit, and overall, just making sure she’s comfortable as she approaches the end of her days. It was a little outside Penny’s field of expertise but being ever the quick learner Penny picks up the care task quickly. The only real drawback was Freya’s attitude, she was often quiet but quick to grumpiness when upset, and when Freya got upset her powers would go haywire. Which was only made worse by the fact she doesn’t particularly like Winter enough to be calmed by her presence. So, it was up to Penny to mitigate these outbursts in the stead of the Winter Maiden’s actual successor.

By the second Friday after her reassignment, Penny had a good understanding of how to handle Freya. After finishing her lunch in the cafeteria, she meets up with Winter in the connecting hallway and heads to the Maiden’s room. Penny avoids looking directly at Winter as her features only reminded her of the person her heart still aches for. Just the thought of him still made her chest burn with a deep pain strong enough to make her sob. But she couldn’t fall into that pit of despair right now, not when there was work to be done.

Since it’s Freya’s lunchtime, Winter, plates her meal while Penny prepares Freya some tea. The elderly woman was always more manageable when she’d had her tea and Penny had figured out just the right way to make hers. The steps change a little with the type she’d have that day, but the jest was she liked the temperature just below boiling due to the cold surrounding her, three teaspoons of sugar put in before the water, so it dissolves quickly, and a few drips honey and lemon to add a soft natural taste. It wasn’t the proper way to make tea but if this simple thing made a dying woman a little cozier then what’s the harm?

Penny walks out first, giving Freya her tea with a sweet smile, the aged Maiden taking the cup silently while looking directly into Penny’s eyes. Penny averts her gaze from her to avoid making awkward eye contact and her sight falls to the same painting that caught her eye last time. Though now something about felt different from her last viewing as she stares at it. The light the girl was holding up seemed so heavy the more she looked at it, the spirals at the edges making it seems like a drain sucking the light into one large mass. And the girl, even though she was just a silhouette seeing her among the vast mountains by herself holding such a heavy light gave Penny an odd sense of loneliness.

Penny: She looks so young and small. I wonder why she’s out there on her own, holding something so heavy.

She muses to herself, not noticing Freya’s gaze on her. But her thoughts are soon halted by Winter approaching with Freya’s lunch. Quickly breaking out of her daze, Penny helps set the track table and clean up the dish when Freya has her fill of it. It’s not long until she’s done for the day and on her way to make her daily reports before going home.

At around that same time, Whitley’s plan was coming together nicely. Julia had come through with thrifting and sold the first stack for a nice profit, the phone was set up to a billing account he had access to as part of taking on some of the household duties and his route to get to Mantle by taxis then by train was set now that he had cash in hand to pay for the fares. And lastly but most importantly his father was leaving for the weekend for a stay at a colleague’s hotel to talk over possible campaign donations and policies with a few titans of the labor industry. As Jacques was headed out the door, he reiterated his expectations for the weekend to Whitley.

Jacques: The paperwork should be done no later than tomorrow night, and I expect this house to be clean and tidy when I return. This that clear?

Whitley: Of course, Father. Leave everything to me.

Jacques nods at his obedience before turning around and heading out the door toward the waiting limousine. Whitley waves him off and watches him leave from the doorway, a fake smile plastered on so metal it be impossible to tell that it was purely for show.

Whitley: He’s getting in, sitting down, he’s barking orders at the driver again, aaaaaaand-

Soon the limousine shifted into gear and drives off the property, Whitley waits until the vehicle is completely out of sight to grab the front door handles then slams them shut. He turns to face the near staff members he can find and with a calm smile as he issues a simple order.

Whitley: Tell the cooks not to bother with making my dinner tonight, I’d like to go to bed early.

Those who heard him nod in compliance, one goes off to relay the message to the kitchen as Whitley walks back to his room. Once alone he’s quick to finish his work at lightning speed, it wasn’t anything difficult, so it wasn’t too hard to get through it fast without making any mistakes. He double-checks his work before getting up from his desk and walking to his wardrobe. He retrieves the money and phone from their hiding spots at the bottom and then changes into the outfit he’s chosen for his little outing. A long black coat with no branding on it, a plain white dress shirt, black pants, navy socks, a pair of dark gray winter boots, and gloves. This was the most casual set of clothing he owns; they were also some of the most well-lined and warm. Even though both cities had city-wide heating systems Mantle’s was far weaker from the higher weather damage and Grimm wear and tear. And judging from the weather report this week had been a little colder than usual. Knowing this Whitley also grabs a winter cap and scarf for extra warmth and wind protection as well as a face mask he’d swiped from a supply closet to hide his face. He couldn’t risk being recognized by anyone while he was out, less his father hears of it.

He up a pillow dummy in his bed and takes the pocket watch out from its hiding spot, kissing it for luck before sliding into his pocket. Whitley waits by the door for a bit until he knows the night rotation has shifted out of the way then makes his exit. Being stuck in the manor for most of his life had given Whitley one advantage in this endeavor, he knew this house like the back of his hand. When things had gotten rough between Weiss and Jacques and the during the fallout of her going to Beacon Klein had made sure Whitley knew every secret passage and hidden room in the manor in case of an emergency. Sometimes, during Jacques’s more destructive tantrums, Whitley would warn the staff to take cover and then hide himself in a crawl space until the situation had calmed down enough for him to interfere. It was all he could do to prevent further harm during those rampages. But now the knowledge would serve a different purpose, as a means to escape.

Quietly dashing through the halls, Whitley sneaks into the east wing and opens the secret passage behind a faux bookcase. Making his way through the tunnels and outside, he takes a moment to breathe the cold night air and shake off the dust from the unused space before making a b-line for the driveway. With the road ahead of him clear Whitley takes a look back at the manor, fear, and hesitance creeping, but he pulls his gaze back quickly. Turning his head down and shutting his eyes tightly, as the reality of what he’s doing sets in.

Whitley: I shouldn’t be out here. If I get caught there’s no telling what he’ll do! This could end bad, really bad. Can I really risk everything I’ve worked so hard for over-

As he starts to second-guess his decision an image of Penny passes through his mind, and he pauses. He takes a deep breath and exhales with a sign before opening his eyes, a look of determination glimmering in the blue of his irises.

Whitley: Yes, I can. She’s worth it. And I know I won’t feel whole again until I see her again.

He thinks steeling his resolve as he marches down the driveway and onto the open road. He walks until he’s a good distance from the manor and pulls out the spare scroll to call a taxi. He waits by the road until he sees the light from the sign atop the cab approaching and waves the driver down with the flash from the scroll. He gets in, keeping his head down he doesn’t say a word to the driver and shows him the directions to the station with the scroll. The driver groans at his impersonal style of communication but pulls off towards the station, nonetheless. The drive feels extremely long, the sounds of top-ten music blaring from the cab’s radio barely registering to Whitley as he tries to stay calm and focused. Once they arrive at the train station rain begins to fall. Whitley pays the fee before getting out and walking into the station. It was quite busy being the night before the weekend, young people were coming up to splurge their cash at Atlas bars and nightclubs, and working-class people of ages were heading home to rest after a hard week of work. The place reeked of dust, sweat, bodily odor, and cleaning solution, thankfully Whitley’s mask provided enough filtration for to breath it in without gagging as he walks to a counter to buy a train pass. Around this time Whitley considers calling his contact in Mantle before getting on the train but quickly dismisses the thought. Knowing how he’d react if he called now, he’d do everything in his power to convince Whitley to go home before anything could happen to him, but he’d come too far to turn back!

Whitley: Better to ask forgiveness than permission in this case.

He thought as the teller at the counter hands him his pass. Whitley nods in thanks as he takes his pass and heads to the platform his train would be arriving at. The wait for the train his more nerve-wracking than the drive as the hustle and bustle of the people around giveWhitley some sensory overload. But still he just keeps breathing. He wasn't going to be shaken, he was a man on a mission and he damn well would see it through to the end! He takes out the pocket watch to check the time, the shine of his beloved trinket easing his anxiety ever so slightly.

Whitley: It shouldn’t be long if the schedule’s right.

He thought before closing the watch back, rubbing his finger over the snow lily imprint on its front before putting it away. As if on cue the train to Mantle finally pulls into the station, and as the doors open to let the passengers out Whitley files into the crowd of people entering the nearest train car. He stands instead of taking a seat, holding onto a standing pole to secure himself as the conductor announces their destination before closing the doors and pulling the train out of the station. Whitley gets lost in the sounds of chattering people and the feeling of weightlessness as the train begins to make its descent into the lower city.

Back at the manor Mary has grown anxious after thinking over Whitley’s recent behavior. She knew he’d fall into a depression after losing Penny, it was obvious that her departure would devastate him, especially with how Jacques went about it. No, what worried Mary was just how fast Whitley had rebounded from that depression. The light in his eyes had deemed so quickly but returned just as fast and burned even brighter than before. He seemed more driven, so full of purpose but with the position, they were in it made no sense. Sure, the cleanup had provided them an opportunity to look through some of Jacques’s more sensitive documents and make backups to add to their evidence log but the path to the goalpost was still far ahead. Jacques was seeking political power now and depending on his success, it could be a good thing or bad thing for them in the long term. Whitley still had a couple of years until legal adulthood and with no trusted adults capable of combating Jacques on their side Whitley was still stuck in his position. Until he comes of age, he wouldn’t be able to make a claim on the SDC without a proxy.

Mary: So, what’s gotten him so riled up?

Mary thought as she turns a corner, marching down the hallway to Whitley’s room. She knows he should be asleep by now and if she was quiet, she could check to see what’s been going through his head with her semblance without him knowing. Unlocking the door with her master key, Mary can feel something was off immediately. She doesn’t bother looking around, walking straight to his bed, and the moment her hand touches the mass through the blankets she knows he’s slipped out of the manor somehow.

Mary: God damnit.

Mary swears under her breath, she sits down on the bed and holds her head in frustration. What was he thinking? Why would he pull a stunt like this when he knows what could happen if he’s caught?

Mary: The hell was he thinking? What could’ve possibly driven him to-Oh shit, don’t tell me-

Thinking about everything that’s happened Mary realizes there’s only one reason Whitley would have does this for. She covers her face with both hands as anger and annoyance begin to cloud her vision.

Mary: Ugh, Unbelievable! This is a straight off tragic romance novel!

She grumbles, her foot tapping anxiously as she tries to think of what to do. She pulls out her scroll and calls his scroll but hears it ringing in the room, spotting it on his desk. Getting up and grabbing the scroll Mary is growing angrier by the second. She takes a second to breath and collect herself while she tries to concoct a plan of action. The answer comes to her as she recalls her dealings as a youth, she’d written plenty of teenage romantic fluff off the memories of her peers and she knew well how stories like these played out. Looking down at Whitley’s scroll Mary wonders if he’d ever deleted Penny’s contacts.

Mary: If he’s going act like a tragic male lead then let’s see how his leading lady feels about his dramatic escape.

She says sarcastically, seating down while she attempts to lock his scroll.

Down in the lower city Whitley’s train finally reaches its stop, the train car jerks to a stop as the conductor announces the station and opens the door. Whitley’s swept up with crowd as he gets off, moving with the sea of people until he manages to break away by the gates. Stepping to the side he takes out his scroll and daily the number of the only people he trusted to help him find his way through the city.

In the upstairs apartment of the Little Cave Antiques Klein’s getting ready for bed. He’s putting on his pajamas when his scroll starts to ring. He picks it up off the nightstand and looks at the caller ID and though he doesn’t recognize the number Klein still answers the call like the gentleman he is.

Klein: Good evening, this is Klein Sieben. How may I help you?

Whitley: It’s me, Klein.

Klein’s eyes go wide and turn a bright shade of yellow at the sound of his former young master on the line. He taps his feet, and his voice is full of joy as he replies to the young men’s statement.

Klein: Young Master? Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! To what do I know the pleasure of this evening call!

Whitley: I need your help, I’m in Mantle.

Klein: Excuse me?

Whitley: I’m in Mantle, Klein. I snuck out, took the train from Atlas and now I’m waiting by the gate at the station.

Klein: You did, what?!

Klein is completely dumbfounded, taking almost half a minute to fully comprehend what he just heard. When the words finally click in his head, Klein lets out a shriek as his eyes cycle through several colors as he flips out! Whitley turns down the volume on his scroll to save his hearing and lets Klein have his moment of shock uninterrupted. When the older man finally calms down his eyes turn bright red, and his voice lowers to a grumble as he scolds the boy for his irresponsible actions.

Klein: WHAT IN THE WORLD DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING! SNEAKING OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, AND TO MANTLE OF ALL PLACES! WHAT IN GOD’S NAME POSSESSED YOU TO THINK THIS WAS ANY KIND OF GOOD IDEA! MUCH LESS GO THROUGH WITH IT?!

Whitley: I’m sorry Klein but I was desperate. There’s someone down here I need to see, and I need your help to find them.

Klein sighs, he was used to Weiss’s strong emotional outbursts but this was completely out of pocket for Whitley.

Klein: Couldn’t you have found a better way than doing something this risky?! If your father hears of this there’s no telling what he’ll do to you!

Whitley: I know but I couldn’t wait anymore.

Klein: You couldn’t wait? You couldn’t wait so you snuck away from home to another city at this late hour?! What could possibly be so important that you’d risk his wrath for this?!

Whitley: Because-Because I couldn’t take it anymore more!

Whitley’s voice strains causing Klein’s eyes flash back to brown and his anger to disallow. Whitley grits his teeth, his voice was so weak and hurt, like a tiny, injured animal as he explains himself.

Whitley: I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep that man’s fury at bay. I’ve watched him drive my mother into endless alcohol binge and run my sisters off in his vain attempts to control everything. But for once..for once in my life, I had someone who made me feel happy! I had someone whose smile gave me the strength to actually try to live, to just be okay with…being me. And he tossed her out as soon as he saw that I wasn’t miserable!

Klein: Whitley.

Whitley: I..love her, Klein. I love her so much it feels like I’m rotting without her. My heart’s ached every single day since she left, and it gets worse and worse with every day she’s not here. I dream about her, I think about her every day, and the fact I couldn’t be with her hurt so much it feels like my chest going to cave in! So, when I saw an opportunity to go find her, I couldn’t resist.

He admits, fist clenched tightly against his chest as he holds back tears. Despite his venture being carefully planned and researched Whitley had honestly acted on impulse from the moment he knew his father would be out of the manor long enough for him to make a run for it. Even in his moments of doubt his desire to see Penny outweighed all relational thought. And Klein could hear it, the yarning and years of raw pain spilling out of the child he’d watched over for so many years. He knew just how lonely and broken Whitley had become but was powerless to do anything for the boy. No one and nothing could ever truly better the dreadful condition Whitley lived in, until now. With a heavy sigh, Klein takes off his nightcap and goes out to the living room to grab his coat, hat, and shoes.

Klein: Which station are you in right now?

Whitley: Sovereign Central.

Klein: Alright. Stay put, I’ll come pick you up.

Whitley: Thank you, Klein.

Klein can hear Whitley’s smile through the phone as he tucks his umbrella under his arm and opens the apartment's front door.

Klein: You're welcome, Whitley. Now please just stay safe until I get there.

He asks before hanging up and heading out into the pouring rain, trudging through the storm to go find his young master.

Later at the Polendina residence, Penny was lounging on the couch while her dad made dinner. She’s watching tv, gloves off and kicking her feet the bunny’s ears on her house shoes flopping with every motion when suddenly her scroll rings. She’s shocked to see that Whitley’s calling her! Confused but delighted and terrifyingly nervous Penny fumbles to grab her scroll and once she’s got a firm grip on it, she takes a big deep breath before answering. After the disaster that was the last time they met, Penny has no idea what to say so she just blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

Penny: H-hello?

Mary: Ms. Polendina.

With that one utterance, all of Penny’s hope instantly evaporates and is replaced with annoyance.

Penny: Mary.

She states rather coldly. Penny didn’t how to feel about the woman since they spoke in the library. Despite Mary making her intentions clear Penny couldn’t find it in herself to trust her as she was the first to acknowledge that her and Whitley’s love was doomed to fail. And the fact that her prediction turned out to be correct only made Penny feel more conflicted. Hearing her talk again filled Penny with a deep rage even though she had nothing to do with what happened. Still, Penny couldn’t help the irrational anger Mary’s voice induced, but she tries to suck it up as she probes for the reason behind her call.

Penny: Mary, why are you calling me and why are you doing so from Whitley’s scroll?

Mary: Because he left it here after he decided to so daringly ran off to Mantle to find you!

Mary states equally as annoyed as Penny. It had taken her far too long to unlock Whitley’s scroll as he had changed the password and added security blocks that triggered every few failures. After nearly two hours of trying, she’d finally opened the damned thing only to not find any clues to where he could possibly be and have her call for help be met with hostility. Though Penny’s animosity died off as soon as Mary told her what Whitley’s done as her mind clouds with confusion and worry.

Penny: He did what?

She asks in disbelief, not wanting to think that Whitley would actually sneak off to an unfamiliar place like that, especially at night when the city was at its most dangerous!

Mary: He snuck out of the manor and is probably somewhere in Mantle looking for you!

Penny: Ar-are you sure?

Mary: Yes! There’s no other reason he would do something this stupid unless it was for you! Now, I need you to find him before anyone else notices he’s gone.

Penny: I-Okay! But where would I even start to look?! Do you have any idea where he could be in the city?!

Mary: No, but Whitley’s an intelligent child so if he left behind anything that could track him then he’s probably went incognito. My best guess is public transport, or he found someone to pick him-Oh God, dammit all!

Mary clutches her head as she recalls a possible point of contact Whitley had in the ground city. Her sudden cursing confuses Penny, and she asks anxiously asks for clarification.

Penny: What? What happened?

Mary: It’s nothing, just go check the train stations first and I’ll call back if I find anything else.

Penny: Okay! I-I’ll try the one closest to me first! Bye!

She hangs up and pockets her scroll then rushes towards the front door. Pietro calls out to her, but Penny doesn’t hear him as she dashes out of the door and into the pouring rain. She runs towards the station; her slippers get drenched by the rainwater on the street, but Penny doesn’t care about the coldness of her feet, the dirtying of her shoes or rain soaking her clothes. Right now, her only focus is finding Whitley and making sure nothing bad happens to him. She’s going full throttle when she stops at the crosswalk for a red light, while she’s waiting for it to go green Penny watches a short man heading in the same direction slip and fall on the next street. He tries to pick himself up but slips again on the pavement. Knowing time is of the essence but being unable to turn her back on a person in need, when the light turns green Penny runs up to the man, pucks in his fallen umbrella and helps him to his feet only to find she recognizes him.

Penny: You’re the man from the antique store, Klein.

She says while handing the umbrella back to him. Said man looks at her a bit bewildered by her appearing in from him and his odd luck in this tricky situation.

Klein: Little Miss? Oh, thank goodness I ran into you! I’m in desperate need of your help right now.

Penny: What happened?

Klein: Young Master Whitley snuck out and is waiting for me at the Sovereign Central train station!

Penny: Sovereign Central-Wait Young Master! Why did you- how do you-

Klein: Because I am a former butler of the Schnee family.

Penny:…What? You used to work at the manor?

Klein: Yes. Young Master told me of you long before you came into my shop. I didn’t know it was you at first but when you deserved the boy you fancied, I know you and the girl he’d grown close with were one and the same.

Penny: But why didn’t you tell me?

Klein: It wasn’t my place to tell you. Young Master should have-Never mind that now! What matters is that Whitley is waiting at the station and came here to look for you!

Penny is gobsmacked by this information, she was too wound up with worry when Mary told her to fully process the fact Whitley really had made such a dangerous decision just to come see her. It had been less than a month since they last saw each other so it was oddly flattering but also extremely concerning that he’d go this far for her, she’d blush if it weren’t so distressing.

Klein: We need to go to him right away before some ruffians do!

Penny nods and the two start back on their rush to the station but Klein barely takes two steps forward before falling over again. Penny turns back and while helping him up she notices a rip in his pajama pants and a fresh wound on his shin.

Penny: You’re hurt!

She cries but Klein waves her off as he forces himself back onto his feet.

Klein: It’s nothing, just let me-OW!

His sentence is cut off with a yelp as Klein tries and fails to put pressure on his injured leg, forcing him onto his knees. Being no stranger to injured people Penny picks him up off the wet pavement and into a fireman’s carry, throwing his umbrella over her shoulder with him.

Klein: Wait, what are-

Penny: You’re in no condition to be out or running in this weather. I’m taking you somewhere safe to rest.

Klein: But what about Whitley?

Penny: I’ll find him after I drop you off.

Klein: But-Whoa!

Penny doesn’t give him a chance to protest and takes off running back the way she came. Once she’s back at her house Penny comes through the door and sees her dad on the phone trying to reach her only to turn around and see her carrying a man over her shoulder and drenched head to toe in rainwater. He strides over to her, face full of trepidation as he confronts her sudden actions.

Pietro: Where have you been?! I’ve been calling and calling but you won't answer?!

Penny: I’m sorry Dad, I was in a hurry and didn’t hear my scroll!

Pietro: What the-what do you mean a hurry?! You ran out of the house out of nowhere and now you come back with a man over your shoulder and all you can say is you’re in a hurry?!

Penny: I’m sorry but it was an emergency! An ongoing emergency that I need to get back to right now!

She explains while setting Klein down on the couch, the shift in position allows Pietro to see that the smaller man’s wounds.

Pietro: Is that blood- Alright what the hell is going on?! What happened to him and where-Is this the man from the antiques store?!

He asks pointing down at the wounded man, completely confused by the situation unfolding around him. Klein tips his hat in greeting before trying to better explain their current predicament.

Klein: Evening, Sir, and apologies for the sudden intrusion. Your daughter and I seem to have stumbled into quite the dilemma involving an unfortunate young man and she insisted I not go any further on an injured leg.

Pietro nods, not filling understanding what he meant but getting enough of it to know why he was currently on his couch.

Pietro: Okay but that doesn’t explain why-

His sentence is cut off by the front door slamming shut, both men look up only to see that Penny’s run off again. Pietro stares at the door stunned and confused by his dear daughter’s actions and still out of the loop of this absurd crisis he’s found himself in.

Pietro: Good God, what is happening tonight?!

He groans, rubbing his temples as a stress fueled headache coming in. His confusion is interrupted by Klein holding a hand up and waving it to get his attention.

Klein: Excuse me, but if you could be so kind as to procure me a first aid kit, I think I can clear things up for you.

Klein offers, Pietro signs and turns his chair around to go find the emergency medical kit. Whatever was going on it was bad enough that Penny was acting rashly and not thinking clearly enough to even clarify what she was doing. And that worried her dad at no end but with his physical limitations, there was no way he could stop her. All he could do was try to piece the situation together and call for help if things got out of hand. While Pietro looks through the cabinets Klein pulls out his scroll to call Whitley and update him on what’s happened only to discover his scroll practically in pieces, shattered by the fall.

Meanwhile, Whitley is still at the station waiting for Klein to arrive. He tries calling him but never gets through to the line. After multiple failed attempts to get in contact with him, Whitley puts his scroll away and contemplates what to do next. Suddenly he feels a twinge of pain in his stomach and it lowly growls in hungry. He chose not to eat earlier to keep the staff away from his room for his escape and now he was paying the consequences for that choice.

Whitley: Ugh, I should’ve grabbed something from the kitchen when I had the chance.

He laments, holding a hand to his stomach as it continues growling from its emptiness. With no way of knowing when his old friend would arrive and feeling a little fatigued from the stress and waiting Whitley decides to go grab a quick bite to eat before it gets too late.

Whitley: There should be a few places nearby that are still open at this hour.

He muses, before walking to the gate and out onto the street. Rain pouring overhead as he marches along down the street scanning the area for a restaurant, food stall, or even a convenience store to stop at. As he’s passing by an alleyway a large arm comes out from the darkness and grabs him by the shoulder, quickly pulling him into the ally way from the main street. Within a matter of seconds, Whitley’s pinned to a walk and surrounded by five thugs, a large dusty red-haired man holding him in place. The man looked like a hooligan, he was tall, balky, and has definitely seen a lot of fights, his tan face was covered in scars most of which looked like crawl marks. But those were just small pickings compared to red fox tail clipped to his leather jacket. Why you may ask? Because firstly Whitley could tell it was real fur not synthetic, secondly there were no red foxes in the frozen kingdom to hunt and lastly, it was too big to be from any sort of wild fox. With a twisted glint in his dark gray eyes and a cruel grin painted on his face, he looked at Whitley dead on as he tries to intimidate him.

???: ‘Ello there, little man.

He greets him mockingly, Whitley doesn’t talk back, nor does he break eye contact, maintaining a neutral expression as best he can while he tries to think of a way out of this mess. He’d been a victim of physical violence before, and he knew one wrong move could be the difference between grave injury and death. He didn’t know how this thug might act if he screamed or said the wrong thing so for now silence was the safest option. The thug is baffled by the lack of fear in Whitley’s eyes but kept on grinning. It was always easy to ring cash out of people when they were scared for their life but breaking down a little snot’s bravado then robbing him was much more satisfying. And so, this game intimidation continues.

Jack: Me name’s Jack, Honest Jack. Lovely night for a stroll through the city ain’t it?

Whitley says nothing, he just stares at Jack and listens hoping for an opening to flee.

Jack: I don’t think I’ve seen you ‘round here before and you look a little too fancy to from these parts neither. So what are you doing on our turf?

He asks playfully but forcibly, Whitley still doesn’t respond half out of stubbornness and half out of fear. Jack doesn’t take too kindly to his idleness this time and grips the boy’s shoulder tighter, a sickly acid aura bubbles from his hand and onto Whitley’s shoulder. It crawls across his skin to this his throat resting in his larynx and voice box like a thick mucus. Jack smiles darkly and resumes his questioning.

Jack: Alright, let me ask you again. What are you doing here?

Whitley tries to stay quiet but the bubble of mucus starts to raise, pulling his voice out of his mouth violently.

Whitley: I..Came..Here…To..Met…Some..One!

Each word comes out choked, carried up by the bubbles, and pops in the air. It hurt so much, that sentence alone made Whitley’s throat feel raw and dry. Jack marveled at the boy’s disposition, most would cry or puke halfway a few words through due to the effects of his semblance but this kid, he had one helluva pain tolerance. Wanting to see how far that tolerance went Jack keeps pressing Whitley with more questions.

Jack: Is that right? So you must’ve come from the upper city then, huh?

Whitley: Yes..I…Am!

Jack: Woah, a rich kid! Guess we’re eating good tonight boys!

He says to other thugs who cheer excitedly, delighted to have caught such bountiful prey.

Jack: That is if he’s got money on ‘em. You do have money on you, don’t cha boy?

Whitley tries again to keep quiet but bubbles dragging his voice are too strong to stop.

Whitley: Yes…I…Do!

The hoodlums murmur in joy, knowing they’d luck out with a wealthy mark. But the merriment pauses as Whitley continues to talk.

Whitely: But..I..Have..No..Inten..Tion..Of…Giv..ing..Any…Of..It...To..You!

The thugs look at him baffled by his sharp attitude, Jack especially so. This was one of the problems with his semblance, it forced honesty from people but couldn’t sugarcoat what came out. Those who weren’t stricken with fear could get a little cocky with him but he could always hear a little terror underneath it. But this one, this one had way too much moxie for the situation he was in. So Jack pressed him again, forcing more of the acid-like bubbles into the boy’s aura.

Jack: What did you say to me?

Whitley: I..Said..I’m..Not..Giv.Ing...You..Any…Thing!

Jack: Is that so? Well, aren’t you a cheeky little bastard? You think you're in any state to be acting all tough like that, huh?!

This toxic back and forth soon devolves into an argument with Whitley being unable to hold his tongue. As the two kept squabbling the commotion gets loud enough to hear from the edge of the alley. It’s this noise draws Penny’s attention as she finally closes in on the station.

She’s rushing down the street to her destination, Sovereign Central was literally within sight, but the sounds of fighting coming from a nearby ally cause Penny’s protector instincts to kick in again. She turns on her night vision and slowly down as she passed by the alley, but times seems to freeze when looks into the darning and sees a group of thugs harassing a young man. The glow in her eyes turns harsh and poisonous when she locks in on the young man’s features, specifically his snow-white hair and blue eyes. Not even thinking Penny turns on her heels and launches herself directly at Jack just as he raised his fist to punch Whitley.

The lead gangster doesn’t have time to process what’s happening as one moment he’s about to pummel a snot-nosed brat then the next he’s been pushed away with enough force to knock them a few feet away. He lands on his back, and the pain from the impact knocks him out before he can face his attacker. Seeing their boss laid out on the cold wet pavement the four remaining hooligans charge at Penny, aiming to get revenge for their fallen leader. Unfortunately for them, it’s a pointless fight. The one closest tries to lunge at Penny, she grabs his arm and pulls his stomach into her fist hard. He retches as the wind is knocked out of him out and falls to the ground. The next three go down just as easy with the second thug falling after two punches to the gut and a kick to the stomach. The third comes in right behind him and gets a kick to the face and a knee to the side, throwing him to the wall as he passes out. And the last tries to get the jump on her by rushing her from behind but he’s nowhere near fast enough or skilled enough to outmatch Penny. His attempted punch doesn’t even get to contact before she turns head and grabs his arm. Her face was cold and neutral but her glowing eyes radiated rage as she throws the large man over her shoulder then onto the pavement. In what felt like hours but was only a couple of minutes all five crooks were laid out on the alley floor, rain drenching their unconscious bodies. Throughout all this Whitley had stood frozen in the same spot he was pinned in, rubbing his sore throat and watching Penny in silent awe as she beat the daylights out of those men.

When the fight is finally over Whitley reaches out to touch her but is soon pinned to the wall again, this time by Penny! With her hands on the wall and her body less than an inch away Penny had him completely locked in place. Her expression was unreadable, and her eyes were still aglow as the gazed into Whitley’s. They stand in silence for a few seconds as the adrenaline from the altercation wears off. Whitley opens his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say in this position, but Penny bests him to the punch.

Penny: Whitley...What the…

She tries to stay calm but soon all the worry and fear she did been holding in since Mary called her. The glow in her eyes fades and her lips begin to quiver as she tries not to lose her cool.

Penny: What…the FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

But she fails, the combination of heavy emotions throwing her mind into disarray. She couldn’t hold back the anxiety, frustration, and dread she’d been holding back since she last seen him. Knowing he was in the city alone so late at night was bad enough, but to find him getting mugged too? That was Penny’s limit, she couldn’t think straight after seeing him in danger like that.

Penny: WHY THE HELL DID YOU THINK THIS WAS OKAY TO DO?! WHAT PART OF COMING TO MANTLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT SEEMED OKAY TO YOU?! AND ALL ON YOUR OWN TOO?! DO YOU KNOW HOW SCARED I WAS WHEN I HEARD YOU RAN AWAY?! HOW COULD YOU WORRY PEOPLE LIKE THAT?! HOW-

She pauses her screaming rant as tears blur her vision and trickle down her cheeks, blending in with the rain pouring over them.

Penny: How could you do that to me?

She whimpers out, her face full of sorrow as she has a total meltdown from the emotional roller coaster this night had taken her on. Whitley looks at her concerned; he attempts to speak again but gets choked up as his own emotional wall comes crashing down. Three weeks, for three weeks he’d been without the person who’d given him more joy than he’d ever known before, and the first thing she does is save him from harm.

Whitley: How did I get so lucky to meet someone so extraordinary?

He thought before wrapping his arms around her and pulling Penny into a tight embrace! He holds her as close as possible and nuzzles into her neck, breathing in her scent as much as he can. He couldn’t help the tears of joy that fall as after almost a month he finally, finally felt whole again! He didn’t mind her soaking wet hair or clothes, or the cold rain drenching both of them, or the fact their reunion had taken place in a dingy alley of all places. No, none of that mattered as long as she was in his arms again.

Whitley: Sorry that I worried you, I just wanted…No, I..needed to see you again.

He says softly, voice sweeter than Penny had ever heard him talk before. Her anxiety born breakdown turns to a moment of comfort as she wraps her arms around him. Melting into the embrace, Penny lets out all the negative emotions she’d stored up and takes in all the love Whitley was pouring out. God, she missed him, she missed his voice she missed his scent, his touch, she missed everything about him so damn much. She’d been so sure she’d messed up her chance to be with him and love him, but this night had proven her wrong, so very wrong. As they continue holding each other Whitley puts his forehead to Penny’s, glancing deeply into her with all the love his battered heart could muster.

Whitley: I missed you so much, Penny. Please..never leave me again.

He pleads, Penny opens her mouth to reply but Whitley doesn’t give her a chance. Taking a hand off her Whitley pulls down his mask and closes the distance between them, kissing her right on the lips. Penny is stunned by the sudden kiss, her teary eyes wide in shock from sudden contact. But with a second her shock fades into joy edge melts into it quickly, closing her eyes and completely relaxing in his embrace. Despite the cold rain, Penny felt so warm, so safe, and happy. Her head felt fuzzy in a way she’d never felt before but instantly loved.

Love, real romantic love. That was something Penny could only have dreamed of not so long ago. Everything she’d been through in the last few months had seemed so impossible but strangely wonderful in ways she couldn’t have ever predicted. But now she had someone she was willing to fight any evil for without hesitation and who’d throw himself into a dangerous situation just to be with her. It was almost like a dream, one neither ever wanted to wake up from.

The moment ends when Penny’s scroll rings, breaking the warm atmosphere the young lovers had built on their reunion. Penny pulls it out and sees it’s her dad. The reality that Whitley had technically run away from home and that there were five unconscious criminals at their feet soon dawns on both and they decide to clean up the mess. Penny and Whitley assure the older men wanting a home that they’re fine and will be there shortly then Penny calls for backup to come get the thugs. It takes almost an hour to resolve things but once the police arrive, they arrest the thugs on outstanding warrants before Penny can even explain what she caught them for. The most they ask her is if she caught them trying to hassle someone again and Penny says yes. That’s enough cause to get them dragged away and give Penny and Whitley a chance to head back to her home. As they begin the long walk back Whitley takes off his coat and offers it to Penny. Penny smiled and wrapped the coat around both their shoulders.

Penny: Now, we’ll both be warm.

She says with her usual cheerful smile. Whitley smiles back at her and they walk shoulder-to-shoulder and hold hands all the way to her house, fingers intertwined as if they couldn’t be close enough. When they arrive at the house and open the front door they are greeted by the sight of Klein, bandage up and helping Pietro in the kitchen. Klein hears the door open and power walks over to welcome them back, throwing an arm around Whitley as he tries to hold back tears.

Klein: Thank the stars, you’re finally here! I was so worried you might’ve been hurt or mugged or-Gods I don’t even want to think about I’m just glad you’re alright!

Klein cries as he hugs his mischievous young master, who pats his back reassuringly.

Whitley: Sorry for worrying you. I-What happened to your leg?

He questions, pointing out the banged wound on the elder butler’s leg. Klein laughs off his concerns and regales the circumstances of this little misfortune.

Klein: Oh, this is nothing just a little scratch. One I got rushing to find you.

Whitley looks down in shame. He had never meant to cause anyone any harm in his endeavor, especially not the man who’d treated him kinder than his own father had. Klein once again waves this off and proceeds with his story.

Klein: But thankfully I had the luck of running onto the sweet young lady you came here to see.

He states pointing at Penny, who smiles at the acknowledgment, before getting back to his tale.

Klein: She helped me, carried me here for treatment, and continued the search in my stead. To great success, it would seem!

He jocks before laughing at the absurdity of events that had unfolded over the course of this memorable night. Whitley also laughs, both in absurdity and happiness at how the two nicest people he knew had met in such a preposterous way!

Whitley: Unbelievable! I was hoping to introduce you to her later, but it looks like fate beat me to it.

He jocks back, a bright smile on his face as he marvels at his good fortune. Seeing a chance to cut into the conversation, Penny tugs at Whitley’s hand forcing his gaze onto her and Klein’s follows suit.

Penny: Actually, I haven’t told him my name yet, so we haven’t technically formally met yet.

She quips, Whitley and Klein immediately realize she’s just creating an excuse to do the introduction and play along.

Whitley: Is that so? Well, why don’t we rectify that right now? Penny, this is Klein. He was my family’s butler for years and practically raised me.

Whitley states while gesturing to Klein who tips his hat in greeting to Penny.

Klein: Pleased to meet you.

The short says cheerfully to the sweet redhead who waves to him in response, this promotes Whitley to let go of her hand and place it around her shoulder as he introduces the lovely girl to his old companion.

Whitley: Klein, this beautiful girl here is…my love Penny.

He pauses and pulls her closers before bestowing the title of his love. It’s simple but perfect as it describes just what he felt for her, she had shown him love and made him love deeper than he could ever imagine. Penny blushes when he utters those words, though she had a few titles, soldier, daughter, protector, and so on but she’d never been given a romantic one before. It made her head feel fuzzy again and reminded her of their moment in the alley. Her face glows brighter from the memory and she covers her face in embarrassment, barely able to vocalize her signature greeting.

Penny: S-S-Salutations.

She stutters out causing both men to chuckle.

Klein: Well now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way, why don’t you two go clean up before dinner?

Penny and Whitley look down and remember they’re absolutely soaked from the rain and definitely need to dry off or change. Whitley hangs his coat by the door and Klein helps him dry his clothes with a blow dryer while Penny goes to her room to change into dry off and change clothes. After getting her hair dry and wiping off Penny looked at her closet stumped. She honestly doesn’t know what to where in this situation like this, what with the person she loved and recently shared her first kiss with staying for dinner. Scanning through her clothes, she can’t find anything that feels casual enough to wear for only a few hours at most before changing to go to bed, so she ops to wear her pajamas and put the pink cardigan she’d received so long ago on over to cover up her shoulders and back. Once she’s ready Penny head back downstairs and sees that Whitley, sans winter hat and mask, had pulled up chairs at the dining table for him and Klein while Klein helps her dad plate the food. She rushes over to help, grabbing the utensils to set the table, and soon dinner is served.

It's a classic for rainy nights in Mantle, a hearty beef stew with a side of mashed potatoes and dinner rolls. Penny was delighted by the spread, but Whitley seemed a little cautious, not because of the meal's content but the presentation. Unlike his usual meals, this food wasn’t present in the prettiest way, the scent off was much stronger, and the serving size itself was far bigger than he’d gotten in years. It was actually a bit intimidating, being offered some much at someone else’s home. Could he really eat this? Even though he was starving from the journey here Whitley couldn’t help the unease he felt as he looked at his bowl. But his thoughts are interpreted by Pietro setting the pot of leftover stew in the center of the table.

Pietro: Go ahead and dig in everybody! It’s been a long night and we got plenty to go around!

Pietro cheers before grabbing his own bowl and chowing down. Penny and Klein also start eating eagerly, this encourages Whitley to have a taste for himself. He takes a spoon full of stew and sips just a little before immediately shoving the whole spoon into his mouth. It was rich and warm, the beef, though tougher than he was used to, paired perfectly with the vegetables and spices. He has to stop momentarily due to the heat of the stew, so he switches to mashed potatoes while the stew sat to chill. Since he had only one spoon, Whitley set his spoon on the rim of the bowl, lets then digs into the potatoes. They’re soft and creamy with a hint of butter and the residue from of the stew only enhanced the flavor. Once he’s done with mashed potatoes, Whitley’s about to go back to the stew but catches Penny ripping her dinner roll into pieces and dipping them in the stew before eating them. Curious, Whitley tears up his dinner roll in half and dips it in the stew, letting soak for a bit before eating it. It has a nice mushy texture, and the flavor of the stew is mellowed by the soft bread. He keeps ripping and dipping until he’s out of bread then goes back to eating the stew. Despite his graceful manners, Whitley finishes his food first but even with his bowl and plate empty he was still not satisfied. Penny, Pietro, and Klein look at him in awe as Whitley wipes his mouth with a napkin before articulating his delight to Pietro.

Whitley: Thank you for the meal, Mr. Polendina. It was delicious.

Pietro: Uh, thank you, glad you like it. Honestly, I thought I’d given you a little too much but looks like it was just right.

He says while rubbing the back of his head, confused and impressed that such a skinny kid could eat so much. However, his confusion wanes as Whitley goes on.

Whitley: Actually, I’m still a bit peckish. Do you mind if I have another helping?

He asks politely, Pietro smiles and reaches over to grab the ladle from the pot. He knew his daughter had described the boy as princely but didn’t think he’d be this polite, especially since he was the from highest of the upper crust. But here he was, breaking bread and minding his manners in a little Mantle like a little gentleman. And being so sheepish over something as simple as asking for seconds at the dinner table? What a charming young man his sweet pea had fallen for.

Pietro: Of course you can, hold out your bowl!

Whitley has another bowl and a few more dinner rolls, after which he starts to feel lethargic but cozy from the first truly filling meal he’s had in ages. After they clear the table Pietro suggests he settles in on the couch for the night. Wanting to stay but also feeling guilty for inconveniencing his old friend Whitley looks to Klein who gives a reassuring nod.

Klein: My taxi should be arriving soon. I’ll be back to pick you up tomorrow.

He says happily before gathering his things and heading home. Now alone with the Polendinas, Whitley pulls the pillows to mon side and Penny brings him some blankets to keep him warm. They make a bed for him on the couch while Pietro makes a pot of hot chocolate and puts out some ginger snaps as dessert. He takes his holding and retires for the evening while the two love birds relax on the couch. Sipping on hot chocolate between bites of ginger snaps and watching tv with Penny by his side, the only thing that grounds the fact this is really happening to Whitley was the small aches from his sore body. Said sore body eventually calls out for rest in the form of a yawn. It’s a small yawn, surprisingly high-pitched and soft like a cat’s meow. Penny giggles at the cute sound and clears away the empty mugs and plate, giving Whitley space to lie down. He fluffs his pillows and tries to maneuver himself into a comfortable position. While washing the dishes Penny hears him tossing and turning and goes back to help him after putting every away. She grabs one of the blanks and covers him with it just as Whitley finally settles in. As she drapes the soft fabric over him Penny spots a hand-shaped bruise forming around his shoulder and collarbone between the open buttons of his shirt. A small twinge of guilt hits her as she wonders just how much Whitley had stuffed to be with her again.

Penny: I’m sorry we couldn’t give you better sleeping accommodations.

Whitley: It’s fine, it’s my fault for doing all this out of nowhere.

Penny: Still-

Penny reaches out and ghosting the tips of her fingers over the still-forming bruise.

Penny: you went through so much to get here.

She laments. Whitley notices her shifting mood, sighs and grabs her hand, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing her knocks. This stuns Penny out of her guilty thoughts and back to the reality of her love sitting before. Said love sits up and rests his forehead on hers as he intertwines their fingers again, not a hint of the cold, uncertainty, fear, or suffering from his long journey in sight. Instead, his gaze was filled with warmth and affection, all pointed at her and her alone.

Whitley: And I’d do it all again if it means I get to be here with you.

He declares lovingly before kissing Penny’s cheek and laying back down, hand still interlocked with hers. Penny stays with Whitley until he falls asleep. She knows they should’ve talked about how this happened and what to do next. About what happened in the alley before she showed up, what they’d do if his father found out he left the manor, and how they were going to keep in contact without getting caught. But that all could wait til morning, after breakfast they could talk about everything they needed to make sure this wasn’t a one-time thing. But for now, it was time to sleep and rest well in the comfort that despite all the odds against them their love had refused to die.

In the coldest kingdom on a dark rainy night, a unique love had faced every challenge in its path only to flourish beyond what anyone who witnessed it would have imagined. A true burning light in the sea of the city’s darkness.

#whitley schnee #penny polendina #rwby fanfiction #klein sieben #pietro polendina #rwby #beta testers #broken machines #fanfic #angst #cute #fluff #fanfiction #oc #last chapter #grande finale

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kiruamon · 1 year

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Part 21

And another new part!

We start with Oz being at school with the rest of the gang while Damien, along with one of Oz's phobias, is watching over the apartment.

Until now, Damien had been more or less successful in avoiding to worry too much about his current situation. But by now, he had to face reality. He was stuck. And after all these days, he still didn't had a plan on how to solve his problem. "My dads should be back from their war campaign soon too. Shit," he felt his stomach cramping as he thought about how little time he had left. They would return only to find that he wasn't home. "They'll probably try to call me," he muttered quietly to himself. After all, they always did that when he stayed overnight somewhere without giving them a call first. Damien vividly imagined his dads calling his cell phone, hoping he had merely lost track of time and was out murdering or committing arson on one of his reckless sprees. His cell phone would ring and ring, but no one would pick up…. And even after hours, their son wouldn't call them back. By then, the two would have started to feel restless for sure. Blinking, Damien stared down at his tiny-clawed paws, which were clutching into the blanket, tirelessly trampling it. Probably next his dads would call the families of his friends and his friends themselves to ask if anyone knew where he was. But no matter where they called, they'd get the same answer. Damien swallowed. His mouth went dry and his throat felt like it was tightening. They would probably be worried sick about him at this point. He just knew they would. What sort of thing would be running through their minds? That he had been in an accident? Perhaps was lying somewhere in a hospital? A kidnapping? That he had… run away for some unknown reason from home? At the thought even he felt absolutely miserable - like on the verge of throwing up. There had to be some way to escape this scenario. But he couldn't think of anything. Nothing! Instead, Damien thought about how more and more time was passing. "What… what if I never… " What if he never changed back? The panic caused his heart to beat at such a horrifying rate that it hurt and made him curl up shivering. He couldn't possibly make it back home in this form! And even if he did… Would his parents recognize him? Would they really accept him like that? In this pathetic form? What the hell should his dads do with a fucking hedgehog as a son? He was useless like that! No more than a stupid joke! As weak as he was at the moment, he couldn't be the heir to their throne. Not when he was already losing against a fucking raven! They would be so disappointed… He didn't want to face the disappointment in their eyes. He couldn't face them like that…. He… he…

Two tiny hands were placed on his tear-soaked cheeks. Carefully, the pencil-thin arms lifted his head until he couldn't help staring into a pair of tiny white eyes. A familiar squeak escaped from the odd mouth as the little phobia in front of him spoke to him in its unknown language. Damien didn't understand a word, but… the little being showed no signs of stopping as it talked to him. And though he didn't understand it, he thought it sounded both urgent and comforting. The curious black creature that belonged to Oz pressed itself closer to him in a hug, talking to him, sounding worried and trying its best to cheer him up. Damien blinked the tears from his eyes and slowly he felt a little clearer in his mind. The horrible fear that imprisoned his heart eased a little and he felt like he could finally breathe again. His dads would never abandon him. It was silly that he doubted it, and he was almost ashamed to have even thought of such a thing. Maybe they would even find a way to cure him of this idiotic spell. "Just on my own I won't get anywhere… ", he had to admit. But… That didn't mean he had to give up. His yellow eyes wandered to the small being at his side, who had snuggled itself close to his side and seemed determined to stay with him. If he couldn't do it alone, he had to ask for help. No more false pride. It was time he asked Oz for help. "Thanks. I… think I'm better now," he murmured with a faint smile to the little phobia at his side before licking its cheek and head thankfully.

Meanwhile, at school.

"Oz? Have you been listening to me?" "…" "Earth to Oz? Is everything okay?" "U-uhm… y-y-yes? Yes, I am! Sorry. Please go on." Even as Vicky continued with her story, Oz rubbed his cheek. Why… did it felt like someone licked him?

To be continued.

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oribun · 7 months

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? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Ooffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating. You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee!

STOP??????

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anonymousfiction211 · 1 year

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You just have to believe 8

You just have to believe masterlist

8. Preparation The next weeks were good. Rachel moved into Loki’s bedroom, it made her nervous at first, but that wasn’t necessary. Most of her days she spends entertaining herself. Loki had plenty of movies and books to keep her occupied. She befriended a few of his staff members and ate her lunch with them sometimes. She grew quite close with the girl who went shopping with her, Kate, sometimes they went to the mall. Loki was pretty generous and had given her a credit card of her own to use. Just in case she would see something she liked. Unfortunately, she didn’t see much of Loki after the date. She saw him most dinners, and when they needed a picture together, they would go for a walk, but those were always short. Rachel slept already when he came into the room and Loki was always gone before she would wake up. She was a bit bummed that the kiss was the only one that had to happen so far. She wouldn’t mind kissing him again, he was a good kisser.

Today Loki came with good news. She was about to get more involved in his campaign. There was going to be a ribbon cutting event, and it would be the perfect moment to make the fake relationship official. Over the next days Loki started to prep her. She learned more about his campaign, and she had to admit, he had good ideas. He was going to regulate healthcare, to make it cheaper and more available to more people. He was going to make education more accessible for lower incomes, it was actually one of his biggest issues. He felt very strongly about people receiving a good education. And he was going to regulate the housing market, so people wouldn’t lose there homes as fast as they could now. There were two points Rachel thought he might lose voters on. The first one was that he was going to take away the right for people to have guns. Not that she minded it, but there was a strong gun lobby in America. And the second point was, to pay for all his plans, he would take a huge cut out of the military budget. But Loki argued that Americans were over the top with their need for military security, and a whole lot of money could be saved. Besides, he would bring alien technology to earth, which was far more advanced. If only she knew.

Rachel knew his campaign inside out and was excited to go to the ribbon cutting event. To her surprise, it wasn’t the Kate who was going to help you choose an outfit. It was Loki himself. He walked into the room and just went through your closet.

‘Is this everything you have?’ he asked.

‘Ehm.. yeah, isn’t it good enough?’ Rachel responded.

Loki pulled a few dresses from the closet and started to compare them with each other. ‘There are plenty good options, I just thought you would have bought more’ he said.

‘I didn’t want to spend more of your money, than I absolutely have to’ she answered.

Loki laid one dress on the bed and hung the rest of them back in her closet. Kate knocked on the door and handed him a jewellery box. Loki opened the box and started to pick out the jewellery that would go with the dress. He laid his pickings on the bed, next to the dress and he send Kate away.

‘Rachel’ he sighed. ‘I have more money than anyone could ever imagine. And you are doing plenty for me. Just buy the things you want. Even if it isn’t totally necessary’

‘Are you scolding me for not spending enough of your money? Most men don’t do that’ she teased.

‘I’m nothing like moral men’ Loki teased back.

Loki had you try the outfit on and coaxed you into doing a little twirl for him. You had to admit that he had style. He had dressed you in a dark green dress. The body was tight, but the skirt flowing. It stopped on the top of your knees. He had chosen a pair of golden earrings and a matching bracelet. He brought Kate back to help her with a little make-up. Camera lightning wasn’t always flattering, he explained.

Rachel and Loki were being driven to the event. When the car stopped Loki held his hand up to help her out of the car. She intertwined her arm with his and they walked towards to podium. There were a lot of cameras and flashing.

‘Just focus, straight ahead, and smile’ Loki whispered towards her.

She did as he asked of her. She heard reporters say his name repeatedly, but Loki ignored them all. Halfway through the carpet he stopped and pulled Rachel closer towards him.

‘Just like we practiced’ he whispered. Rachel leaned to his side, while he wrapped an arm around her. He gave her a kiss on her cheek, and she smiled. After their ‘spontaneous’ performance they walked towards the state. Loki was introduced by someone that was leading the event, and he started his speech.

‘.. and lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend. Without her support I wouldn’t be able to do all of this. Come up here, darling’ he closed his speech.

You walked up beside him, and he kissed your cheeks again, clapping with the crowd. You both intertwined your hands while he cut the ribbon.

‘Now, we have another exclusive for you guys’ the woman of the event started to announce. ‘If you have any questions for our future president or his girlfriend, this is your time to ask them’ she smiled while handing you both a microphone.

The first few questions were for Loki, about his campaign and his views of what his opponents were doing at the moment. But then started the questions about the two of you.

‘Loki, where did you guys meet?’ a reporter asked.

Loki laughed and squeezed her hand. ‘To be fair, she tells that story better than I ever could’ he said, giving you a chance to chime in. After that Rachel was overloaded with questions about what it was like to be his girlfriend, how he was in his off time, and you told them all how proud you were off him.

Then came a question both of them hadn’t anticipated.

‘So, Rachel. Tell us, what is he like in under the sheets’ a reporter was bold enough to ask.

Everyone just started at the two of them and Rachel could feel the anger radiating off Loki. When she looked at him, she never saw him so pissed off. She could tell he was going to give the report an earful, which wouldn’t exactly help his campaign. Where it came from, she didn’t know, but she had her answer ready.

‘Well, I don’t think I should kiss and tell. But you know what they say about a gentleman in the streets’ she winked. The reporter who asked the question looked disappointed, but the rest of them laughed. Loki laughed with them and kissed her temple.

‘Brilliant’ he whispered.

After that the event was over and he led Rachel back to the car. Inside the car Loki complimented her again.

‘That was far better than what I was going to do’ he admitted.

‘What were you going to do?’ she asked curiously.

Loki narrowed his eyes, not wanting to admit that the first thing that came to mind was snap the reporter’s neck. Instead, he flashed her a smile. ‘I think I made the right decision when I chose you for this. I can tell that we are going to have a lot of fun together’

It made her blush, which was exactly what he wanted.

Taglist: @benaddictcumberbatch @joyful-enchantress @harlequin-hangout @jessica2609 @eleniblue

Story taglist: @assemblingavenger let me know if you want to be added

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki god of lies #loki god of mischief #loki x ofc #loki x reader #loki x original character #loki x original female character #loki fiction #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki story #loki for president #president loki

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theeeveetamer · 2 years

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Okay, but now I gotta ask: what *were* the reasons why Dynasty Warriors 6 was considered a bad game by the fandom? Thanks and have a lovely day!

HAHA Yes someone took the bait

*Ahem*

Let me start by saying that I actually love Dynasty Warriors 6. It's an ugly duckling but it has a special place in my heart.

Anyway, there were actually a lot of reasons. I wouldn't say any one of them was like The Thing that killed this game in the eyes of a lot of DW fans, they all just kind of came together to leave a really bad impression.

#1) They slimmed down the cast

If you know Dynasty Warriors for anything, it's probably "Three Kingdoms, button mashing, huge cast". By Dynasty Warriors 5 the number of playable characters was approaching 50 playable characters, which is a lot when you're trying to make individualized movesets for each character. All of these characters were playable in the main story campaign, albeit in often less personalized ways. For example, in Dynasty Warriors 3 you would just pick a character, you would play the story for the faction that character was from, and there was only really slight variation in the cutscenes (inserting your officer into important moments and what not) and MAYBE the maps.

Dynasty Warriors 6 was supposed to be a bit of a soft reboot for the series, and so with that they decided to try and slim down the cast. The game started out with only ~40 playable characters, which doesn't seem like they took out that many, right? But, well, every character is someone's favorite, and they made a lot of very odd decisions with it (For instance, keeping Xiao Qiao but removing her sister, when the two of them always came as a pair in the past). Every previous Dynasty Warriors game also featured new playable characters, but DW6 did not introduce anyone new.

This approach also clearly did not work, because in DW7 they not only added back all the previously cut characters, but they expanded the roster further.

This was also compounded by...

2) Only some characters got story modes

Dynasty Warriors 6 is sort of an awkward middle child of the series.

In the earlier entries, you would have a generic Wei, Wu, or Shu campaign (and others, if you had some add ons, e.g. Lu Bu's campaign). It would start with you picking an officer affiliated with the faction, and it would usually end with your faction rather unhistorically unifying all of China under their banner. Like I said before, the huge playable cast was really only possible because these campaigns were generic, and all they had to do was occasionally insert your chosen officer into the cutscene.

It was also really historically inaccurate, given you could pick a character like Zhou Yu, who died relatively early in the timeline of the Three Kingdoms era, but he would of course be alive for all of it. And of course you would win battles that your chosen faction did not historically win just to get your happy ending (e.g. you would win Chi Bi, even if you were on Wei's side).

Dynasty Warriors 7 and 8 (and possibly 9, but I haven't played enough to say for sure) decided to go for more historical bent*.

In these games each faction has a campagin, but instead of picking a playable officer from the start and carrying them all the way through, the game makes you pick your playable character at the start of each map. You can play as Sun Jian in the first map of Wu's story, for example, but he dies at the end because... that's more or less where he dies in real life. Then the next three maps you might get to play Zhou Yu, then Sun Shangxiang, etc.

Most characters are only playable for a map or two, but they're all spread pretty evenly throughout the story, so you're always mixing up who you play as and each character gets unique moments to shine throughout as they all contribute to the overall story. It also allows characters to die and lose battles when they're supposed to, as the story will just pick up with the next character and the next major battle. Wei never wins Chi Bi in these games, unless there's a secret "hypothetical" route you've unlocked.

Dynasty Warriors 6 is... well, it kind of sort of tries to be both. It still wants those happy endings from the earlier games, but it wants to give more character focus like the later games.

The solution they came up with for 6 was to have individualized campaigns for each character. These are six stages strung together with cutscenes and narration that are all focused primarily on your chosen character.

Now, the problems with this approach.

2a) Only 17 characters got campaigns

Many of them were fan favorites, but yeah. It was Liu Bei, Zhang Fei, Guan Yu, Zhao Yun, Zhuge Liang [Shu], Cao Cao, Zhang Liao, Xiahou Dun, Dian Wei, Sima Yi [Wei], Sun Jian, Zhou Yu, Lu Xun, Sun Shangxiang, Gan Ning [Wu], Diao Chan, and Lu Bu [Others].

It also excluded many other fan favorites such as Ling Tong, Ma Chao, Cao Pi, Zhen Ji, etc.

Some of the excluded characters did get story modes later, but I'll cover that in a bit.

2b) These campaigns were repetitive as fuck

There are 10 characters who could have been present for Chang Ban. Seven of them have Chang Ban as one of their stages. Which means, in addition to being the absolute worst fucking stage in the entire game no matter which side you play and I still hate it to this day, you have to play it a minimum of seven times if you want to see all of the story content in the game. Don't even ask me how many times Chi Bi appears.

You also have a lot of characters who were present for a lot of the same stuff, which means their story modes are really similar. Liu Bei, Zhang Fei, and Guan Yu often come as a triad, and as a result a lot of these three campaigns are similar to each other. Zhang Fei and Liu Bei share four of their six maps, for example.

2c) You had to play them a LOT if you wanted all the content in the game

Only nine of the 17 story modes are actually available at the start of the game, three for each of the main factions. In order to unlock all of the story modes, you have to play the story modes.

In addition, those other characters I mentioned? The ones without story modes? Most of them are also locked behind hitting battle goals in the story mode maps. Which means you will probably have to replay at least some of the maps in order to unlock everyone.

2d) If you're doing a campaign, you HAVE to use the campaign character for all six battles. Playing Lu Xun? You're playing six battles as Lu Xun, so I hope you like how he plays.

Unless you're playing two-player with a friend, that means every non-story mode character is used exclusively for free mode. Meaning you can't play any story content with them. So if your favorite character is Ling Tong? Too bad, if you wanna use him go grind some free mode chapters I guess. Or buy a second controller and stick Dian Wei in the corner while "player 2" does everything.

(Yes I did that. Screw trying to chase down Liu Bei with the slowest damn character in the game)

2e) These campaigns were actually pretty short.

If you know what you're doing, most of them can be completed in less than an hour. Which means you've only got about... 17 hours of story gameplay.

Now that's just the story mode and basic character stuff. Let's get into the gameplay.

3) They dumbed down Warriors gameplay. Somehow.

In every other Warriors game ever, you have the X button, and you have the Y button. You hit the X and the Y button, occasionally mixing them together to make combos, and things die. This is occasionally supplimented with an A button press.

In Dynasty Warriors 6, you still have your X and your Y button, but you also have something called the "Renbu system". The Renbu system is simple: the more hits you chain, the more flashy your X and Y button presses get. There's no combos though. Only Renbu. Which means you mash one button instead of two the whole time.

Which means that a series already pretty much known for being a basic button masher turned into an even basic-er button masher.

Renbu also decreases if you are not hitting things. The game often forces you to run around for long stretches facing no enemies as you go from base to base, which means you basically never had the highest Renbu all the time when doing a map.

You also didn't get nearly the variety of weapons or mounts you got in the previous games. For weapons you basically had "normal", "quick but does less damage", and "slow but does more damage".

3a) Most of those 40 characters are clones. Especially the ones who didn't get campaigns. In addition to this, they removed a lot of iconic weapons.

Sun Shangxiang, since her very first appearance, always used a weapon called the wheels. They were kind of her thing. Dynasty Warriors 6 decided to give her a bow instead, which she now shares with Yue Ying as a weapon. They play exactly the same.

Lemme tell you, people did NOT like that. I can take different weapons, but having so many clones meant there was basically no reason to play some of the characters (e.g. why would I ever play Yue Ying if I like Sun Shangxiang better and they play exactly the same?)

3b) Some of the fun side stuff you could do in previous games, like collecting characters' best weapons or getting the special horses, was completely removed

Less side content, less things to keep you going after you've beaten the paltry number of story modes, which meant people put it down a lot faster.

Now, remember how I mentioned some of these problems got somewhat fixed?

4) Some of these problems were addressed in a re-release of the game. That re-released happened on a completely different console. No, I'm not kidding.

So Dynasty Warriors 6 released on PS3 and Xbox 360. Then, after it came out, they actually re-released it. It had six more story mode campaigns, five new stages, the Renbu decreased faster so you could keep your combos, and some of the movesets were un-cloned in order to make characters more unique.

The problem? This re-release came out on PS2 and PSP. For some reason. Which meant the graphics and performance got a massive downgrade. Remember as well, the PS3 is not backwards compatible with the PS2. So, yeah, if you wanted to play this then I hope you kept your last gen console around instead of selling it to buy the new one or something.

5) Last point: soft reboot also meant some character re-writes.

Some characters really benefited from this. Cao Cao, for example, was frequently depicted rather cartoon villain-y, to sort of contrast Liu Bei's whole pure good man of the people thing, in the previous games. From 6 onward he was given a lot more nuance. Sima Yi also gets to really live his role as the precursor to the next dynasty instead of just being an evil laughing henchman to Cao Cao.

Then you have... the female characters. Sun Shangxiang was one of only two female characters with a playable campaign in the original release. Y'all. They butchered her. Long story short, historically she's one of the women we know the most about. She had an arranged marriage with Liu Bei to solidify an allyship between Wu and Shu, but from what we know it was purely political and she actually went home after a few years because the ally thing was just not doing it. This is more or less reflected in the pre-6 games.

Dynasty Warriors 6 basically turns her into the biggest Liu Bei simp. Like all of her dialogue is about how lovey dovey she is for her wonderful hubby wubby who is just the bestest person in the entire universe (gag). She even goes so far as to betray her family and fight against them in her campaign, something she has never done previously and, as far as we can tell, never did historically. Unfortunately, she never quite recovered. At least not in 7 and 8. Dynasty Warriors kind of always had an issue with making female characters all about their husbands, but 6 marks the point when they started making characters who were not originally all about their husbands all about their husbands too. Considering the cast of these games is like 4:1 male:female already, that blatant dev sexism mega sucks.

5... .5) Ok I lied about the last one being the last point. But this one is entirely up to taste. A lot of people hated the outfit designs for this game.

I think I'm kind of in the minority here because I actually kind of liked them lol. But yeah there were a lot of people who hated the direction they went. The earlier designs were a bit more grounded with a lot of armor and simple colors. DW had bright colors and feathers everywhere. Definitely bold. Still better than DW7, IMO, with their weirdly modern stewardess Qiao sisters and other nonsense.

Anyways now you might be wondering what I actually like about the game, since I said it has a special place in my heart. WELL!

#1) Nostalgia

It was the first Warriors game I really played for myself, sue me. I mean I've always had a lot of nostalgia for the series, since my brother played the heck out of DW3 when I was a kid, but I didn't really play 3 until much later.

2) It can actually be pretty challenging if you don't know what you're doing

DW7 and DW8, while great for what they do, kind of had the issue of being too hand-holdy. Because you need to follow a particular historical-ish sequence of events, the game constantly has to direct you around. You can't just Leeroy Jenkins Cao Cao at Chi Bi, for example, because you gotta change the wind, then set the ships on fire, then wait for Cao Cao to get off the ships so he can start escaping, etc.

DW6 DGAF about that. You wanna play Chi Bi by accidentally botching the fire attack and make your life about six thousand times harder? Have at it. Wanna run down Cao Cao within thirty seconds of the map starting? Have fun.

And then if you do want to hit the extra targets or actually strategize, you can do that! I've played with friends in two player and we would literally sit down before a map and have a little strategy session. It was fun!

The first time I played DW6 I got my ass kicked on the very first stage because I kept failing the mission for various reasons. It's definitely the last of the DW games that isn't super mega hand-holdy.

3) It's got a bangin' soundtrack. Probably my favorite of the games I've played

I mean you get to listen to this masterpiece after every map clear. Stunning.

#Dynasty Warriors 6 #I probably forgot something don't mind me #It's Ling Tong by the way #Ling Tong is my favorite #And also voiced by Jeralt #Listen something about men with ponytails who also have dead dads just gets me

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