dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Another old link I found - this one is especially for [livejournal.com profile] alumfelga and everyone who enjoys the really funny half hour special Peter Davison made with lots of celebrities - from Doctor Who and elsewhere - for the 50th anniversary. If you don't know it, you can watch it here:
The Five(ish) Doctors

It has lots of cameos and funny bits. Even the families of the actors got involved. Great fun.

So imagine my surprise when there was actually fanfiction, written by [livejournal.com profile] dbskyler in the exact same style and equally funny!

The Day(ish) Night(ish) Time(ish) of the Five(ish) Doctors Reboot
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dieastra: Strauss (Default)
Another old link I found - this one is especially for [profile] alumfelga and everyone who enjoys the really funny half hour special Peter Davison made with lots of celebrities - from Doctor Who and elsewhere - for the 50th anniversary. If you don't know it, you can watch it here:
The Five(ish) Doctors

It has lots of cameos and funny bits. Even the families of the actors got involved. Great fun.

So imagine my surprise when there was actually fanfiction, written in the exact same style and equally funny!

The Day(ish) Night(ish) Time(ish) of the Five(ish) Doctors Reboot
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dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
I am cleaning my inbox (some of you may have wondering why I am commenting on months or years old stuff) and just found this recommendation again that I sent to [livejournal.com profile] analineblue a long time ago. In November 2014 to be precise. Wonder if you ever read it? ;)

So I'll be able to delete this message, I'll keep the links in here now. And maybe someone else may be interested as well.

I really love such clever fics.

In the first, Neal wakes up in his apartment but suddenly it is only a film set and everyone thinks he is this actor Matt Bomer and he has to get adjusted to this role.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/508802

And the second is the other way around, Tim gets a bang to his head on set and wakes up in White Collar land – and Neal actually recognizes that this is not “his” Peter and tries to teach him everything he needs to know as a “real” FBI agent.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/959706

Have fun!
dieastra: Strauss (Default)
I am cleaning my inbox (some of you may have wondering why I am commenting on months or years old stuff) and just found this recommendation again that I sent to [personal profile] analineblue a long time ago. In November 2014 to be precise. Wonder if you ever read it? ;)

So I'll be able to delete this message, I'll keep the links in here now. And maybe someone else may be interested as well.

I really love such clever fics.

In the first, Neal wakes up in his apartment but suddenly it is only a film set and everyone thinks he is this actor Matt Bomer and he has to get adjusted to this role.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/508802

And the second is the other way around, Tim gets a bang to his head on set and wakes up in White Collar land – and Neal actually recognizes that this is not “his” Peter and tries to teach him everything he needs to know as a “real” FBI agent.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/959706

Have fun!
dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
A few days ago my friend [livejournal.com profile] kanarek13 posted another one of her always very beautiful "White Collar" artwork pieces. If you don't know her stuff yet but are a fan of Peter and Neal, head over to her place and have a look. The one I am talking about can be found here: http://kanarek13.livejournal.com/141050.html

However I would prefer if you only looked at the picture after reading the little thing I wrote about the scene. I got quite inspired. Many thanks also to [livejournal.com profile] elrhiarhodan who did a quick beta!

It's just a little scene not a whole story. So here without further ado - enjoy!

*********


The hard ground dug mercilessly into his knees. The thin layer of carpet did nothing to help against the unforgiving concrete underneath. He debated to subtly shift to at least temporarily release the pressure but thought better of it. Better not bringing attention to himself. Better not make the other man angry. There might be punishment. And if anything Neal didn’t need tonight, it was more punishment.

And he was good at kneeling. He was used to this. He could do it.

Just a little while longer.

He felt uneasy, not knowing what was going on behind him. He was not allowed to turn. He had tried once and received a smack to the head. He didn’t try again. Surprisingly, he had not been blindfolded. He wished he had, it would have made things easier.

Easier to pretend.

To pretend that this was just like any other game they played on a Friday night. To pretend that even though his blood rushed, it was because of excitement and arousal and not dreadful fear. To pretend that if it ever became too much to bear he could use his safeword and Peter would be there, releasing him, holding him, soothing him.

Sadly, no safeword would get him out of this.

At least he wasn’t alone. Peter was there, right beside him. On his knees as well. And right now he looked over, with a worried expression. It was very difficult to keep anything from him. Neal tried his best anyway, tried not to show how excruciating the pain was that his ribs were giving him. One may be cracked, broken even after that harsh kick. It had forced the breath right out of his lungs and made him double over.

And the longer this went on, the harder it got to breathe. He forced himself to take slow breathes. In. Out. In. Out. Don’t panic, Neal. Panicking would only make things worse.

It was hard to tell for how long they already were kneeling here. In such situations, minutes seemed to stretch like hours.

The bad part was, nobody was going to miss them. They had worked late in the office, just the two of them. Elizabeth was out of town and would only return the day after tomorrow. Plenty of time to get into serious trouble with whoever it was that paid them this surprise visit.

He tried to think who could be behind this but unfortunately in their line of work they made so many enemies, the list was very long. And so far they hadn’t said much, just used them as punching bags. It seemed as if they were waiting for something. Or someone? It also seemed as if they were not in a hurry to kill them. Thank God for small mercies.

Of course he had tried to get out of the handcuffs as soon as they had been put on him. But these guys had been briefed well. They seemed to know what he was capable of, and for once none of his tricks worked. The cuffs were so tight that there was no room to wriggle at all. The more he tried, the tighter they became. Until he had to stop because the blood flow to his hands was almost non-existent.

Initially, he and Peter had struggled but soon had to realize that it was useless. Then Peter had switched to talking. He was good at that. He promised they would cooperate, he promised to do everything they wanted; he would have promised to get the moon down as long as it kept Neal safe.

One evening, sitting on the patio with a bottle of beer in Peter’s case, and a glass of wine in Neal’s case, they had mused who of them had it worse in situations like this. Neal, who always seemed to receive more blows and injuries than Peter; or Peter, who only helplessly could watch and not do anything. Peter had admitted then that it drove him crazy, that it was almost unbearable and that he would change places with Neal anytime.

Neal wasn’t so sure he wanted to change places with Peter though.

THE END - that's it already, sorry!
dieastra: Strauss (Default)
A few days ago my friend [personal profile] kanarek13 posted another one of her always very beautiful "White Collar" artwork pieces. If you don't know her stuff yet but are a fan of Peter and Neal, head over to her place and have a look. The one I am talking about can be found here: http://kanarek13.livejournal.com/141050.html

However I would prefer if you only looked at the picture after reading the little thing I wrote about the scene. I got quite inspired. Many thanks also to [personal profile] elrhiarhodan who did a quick beta!

It's just a little scene not a whole story. So here without further ado - enjoy!

*********


The hard ground dug mercilessly into his knees. The thin layer of carpet did nothing to help against the unforgiving concrete underneath. He debated to subtly shift to at least temporarily release the pressure but thought better of it. Better not bringing attention to himself. Better not make the other man angry. There might be punishment. And if anything Neal didn’t need tonight, it was more punishment.

And he was good at kneeling. He was used to this. He could do it.

Just a little while longer.

He felt uneasy, not knowing what was going on behind him. He was not allowed to turn. He had tried once and received a smack to the head. He didn’t try again. Surprisingly, he had not been blindfolded. He wished he had, it would have made things easier.

Easier to pretend.

To pretend that this was just like any other game they played on a Friday night. To pretend that even though his blood rushed, it was because of excitement and arousal and not dreadful fear. To pretend that if it ever became too much to bear he could use his safeword and Peter would be there, releasing him, holding him, soothing him.

Sadly, no safeword would get him out of this.

At least he wasn’t alone. Peter was there, right beside him. On his knees as well. And right now he looked over, with a worried expression. It was very difficult to keep anything from him. Neal tried his best anyway, tried not to show how excruciating the pain was that his ribs were giving him. One may be cracked, broken even after that harsh kick. It had forced the breath right out of his lungs and made him double over.

And the longer this went on, the harder it got to breathe. He forced himself to take slow breathes. In. Out. In. Out. Don’t panic, Neal. Panicking would only make things worse.

It was hard to tell for how long they already were kneeling here. In such situations, minutes seemed to stretch like hours.

The bad part was, nobody was going to miss them. They had worked late in the office, just the two of them. Elizabeth was out of town and would only return the day after tomorrow. Plenty of time to get into serious trouble with whoever it was that paid them this surprise visit.

He tried to think who could be behind this but unfortunately in their line of work they made so many enemies, the list was very long. And so far they hadn’t said much, just used them as punching bags. It seemed as if they were waiting for something. Or someone? It also seemed as if they were not in a hurry to kill them. Thank God for small mercies.

Of course he had tried to get out of the handcuffs as soon as they had been put on him. But these guys had been briefed well. They seemed to know what he was capable of, and for once none of his tricks worked. The cuffs were so tight that there was no room to wriggle at all. The more he tried, the tighter they became. Until he had to stop because the blood flow to his hands was almost non-existent.

Initially, he and Peter had struggled but soon had to realize that it was useless. Then Peter had switched to talking. He was good at that. He promised they would cooperate, he promised to do everything they wanted; he would have promised to get the moon down as long as it kept Neal safe.

One evening, sitting on the patio with a bottle of beer in Peter’s case, and a glass of wine in Neal’s case, they had mused who of them had it worse in situations like this. Neal, who always seemed to receive more blows and injuries than Peter; or Peter, who only helplessly could watch and not do anything. Peter had admitted then that it drove him crazy, that it was almost unbearable and that he would change places with Neal anytime.

Neal wasn’t so sure he wanted to change places with Peter though.

THE END - that's it already, sorry!
dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Title: Sick
Series: Scotty had seen Kirk feverish, sick, drunk, delirious, terrified, overjoyed, mad...
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you [livejournal.com profile] tardisjournal for your help!
Rating: T
Category: Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Scotty, Captain Kirk, Spock, Doctor McCoy
Word Count: 1.240

Summary: This is a series of standalone one shots for each word of the quote (from the episode "Turnabout Intruder"). More chapters for the other words will be added when the muse allows.

Part 1: "Sick". On a mission gone wrong, Scotty has to care for the sick captain until the cavalry arrives.

*****


SCOTTY: I’ve seen the captain feverish, sick, drunk, delirious, terrified, overjoyed, boiling mad. But up to now, I have never seen him red-faced with hysteria.

Sick

It was the last day of a so-far uneventful mission. The Tantalons had been friendly, generously allowing Scotty to study their technology for as long as he wanted to. They had installed a shield that spanned over their city, going kilometers into each direction, like a huge snow globe. Outside that shield, their planet was a dead wasteland. Inside, they grew all they needed to live.

The shield kept out the deadly beta radiation. It also somehow prevented anyone from beaming in.

It was penetrable though, so the three of them had beamed down outside, wearing protective suits, and then made their way to the city by foot. They had been welcomed with open arms and given quarters for the duration of their mission.

And then, on the evening before they intended to depart, it all went horribly wrong.

The evening had started so well, with a huge feast, and lots of food and drink. Scotty had indulged himself happily. The beautiful woman keeping him company was an extra nice touch. He didn’t pay much attention to the captain, who was over in another corner with a beautiful woman of his own.

Even Spock had loosened up a bit, as far as he could tell. After all, they deserved a break once in a while.

Understanding among nations was well under way when he heard a sudden shriek from the general direction of the captain. Scotty untangled himself from Varna – that was her name – and rushed over.

Spock beat him by a second and then they both had to watch, horrified, as Kirk retched up purple leftovers of his meal. It seemed to take forever until the nausea subsided and he exhausted let his head fall back on a pillow a helping hand had provided.

Scotty was glad that Spock was there. Give him a piece of technology to take apart and put back with a tight deadline looming over him, and he dealt with it no matter what. But seeing someone suffer made him always feel helpless.

Read on under the cut - After making sure that Kirk was comfortable for the moment )

Next: “Feverish & Delirious”
dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
I don't often recommend fic, one has to be really outstanding for me to do so. So please believe me that this one is. I was just searching for a little whump bedtime story, and stumbled about this gem.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10561323/1/Allegiance

Rated: T
Hurt/Comfort/Drama
Words: 13,468
Summary: It's no secret that Jim Kirk will lay down his life for his crew. An alien race is holding five of Jim's crew hostage and he has to bargain to set them free. But all he has is himself. So what is he willing to sacrifice? Life, liberty, or limbs?


So yes, there is a bit of whumping going on, but this is not the central part of the story. The central part is the relationships between Kirk and his team, which are all written spot on, and there are short flashbacks for each one of them, and the end is so moving that it made me indeed cry. Which is a first for a whump fic.

The writing style is superb, each word where it belongs, slowly building up the pressure, until the end where not only Kirk crumbles, but the reader does as well.

So, if you are a fan of the young new Enterprise team of the Abramsverse, go read it. That's an order. And if you prefer the old team, read it anyway.

Funny side note, I only just yesterday watched the first new movie in full (after having given up the first time after only ten minutes and after grumbling all the past weeks and months about how these movies are cold and only special effects and that they don't make me feel anything etc. etc. but now they suddenly do) and this is the first story I actively sought out with the new team, while with other fics previously trying to read them with the old team in mind (which not always works).

I see the author has a list of White Collar fics as well. If they are as good as this one, I am surely checking them out. But not tonight.
dieastra: Strauss (Default)
I don't often recommend fic, one has to be really outstanding for me to do so. So please believe me that this one is. I was just searching for a little whump bedtime story, and stumbled about this gem.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10561323/1/Allegiance

Rated: T
Hurt/Comfort/Drama
Words: 13,468
Summary: It's no secret that Jim Kirk will lay down his life for his crew. An alien race is holding five of Jim's crew hostage and he has to bargain to set them free. But all he has is himself. So what is he willing to sacrifice? Life, liberty, or limbs?


So yes, there is a bit of whumping going on, but this is not the central part of the story. The central part is the relationships between Kirk and his team, which are all written spot on, and there are short flashbacks for each one of them, and the end is so moving that it made me indeed cry. Which is a first for a whump fic.

The writing style is superb, each word where it belongs, slowly building up the pressure, until the end where not only Kirk crumbles, but the reader does as well.

So, if you are a fan of the young new Enterprise team of the Abramsverse, go read it. That's an order. And if you prefer the old team, read it anyway.

Funny side note, I only just yesterday watched the first new movie in full (after having given up the first time after only ten minutes and after grumbling all the past weeks and months about how these movies are cold and only special effects and that they don't make me feel anything etc. etc. but now they suddenly do) and this is the first story I actively sought out with the new team, while with other fics previously trying to read them with the old team in mind (which not always works).

I see the author has a list of White Collar fics as well. If they are as good as this one, I am surely checking them out. But not tonight.

7 - 7 - 7

Sep. 20th, 2015 08:28 pm
dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
I can as well! Usually my fics are much shorter, but this one has 10 pages and over 3000 words. Just waiting for the beta and then it will get posted.

Thank you [livejournal.com profile] tinnny!

go to the 7th page of your current WIP, and copy/paste 7 lines starting from the 7th on the page



“If you have something to say, then say it! Then I’ll decide what happens to you.”

All of a sudden, all the fight seemed to drain out of Spock. His shoulders fell slightly and his eyes went back to look at a far distance. His voice sounded tired when he asked, “Permission to speak freely?”

“Permission granted.” Jim was curious what would come next.

“You were not just simply in love with Rayna. You were totally smitten. Time was running out. The longer we waited to bring the ryetalyn on board, the more in danger were all the sick people on this ship. We should have left immediately, yet you deemed it necessary to get into a fight over a girl you barely knew...
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dieastra: Strauss (Default)
Interrupting the posting of my convention pictures to take part in the AO3 Kudos meme, snatched from [personal profile] chamilet Looks like a fun idea!

So, here are my top 10 kudoed fics (and some action figure stories) on AO3:


1. Hands (25 Kudos)
Fandom: White Collar
Who would have thought that my first foray into the White Collar fandom would get the most kudos? Clearly I should write more! The story is set after the end of season 5, when Neal got kidnapped.

2. Leisure time (18 Kudos)
Fandom: Sherlock
Action figure pictures of Sherlock and John having a nice quiet day at home.

3. The Lives and Deaths of Malcolm Merlyn (12 Kudos)
Fandoms: Arrow, Torchwood
How Jack Harkness became Malcolm Merlyn.

4. Caught (12 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
Written after seeing some spoilerish pictures for the finale of season 1. Obviously AU as the actual episode was a bit different. It's about Oliver Queen and Malcolm Merlyn finding out their identities as Arrow and the Dark Archer.

5. The Torchwood Team bakes Christmas cookies
Fandom: Torchwood
Action figure pictures of the Torchwood team baking Christmas cookies.

6. Feet (8 Kudos)
Fandom: White Collar
The conclusion to my other story "Hands"

7. Back (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
A story about Malcolm Merlyn being caught and tortured in Nanda Parbat by Ra's al Ghul.

8. How I met my father (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
A missing scene from the end of season 2 - how exactly did Thea know where to find Malcolm?

9. ALS ice bucket challenge, Torchwood style (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Torchwood
Action figure pictures - What the title says.

10. Darkness on the edge of town (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
Action figure pictures of a famous scene in the season 1 finale - the fight between the Arrow and Malcolm Merlyn.
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dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Interrupting the posting of my convention pictures to take part in the AO3 Kudos meme, snatched from [livejournal.com profile] chamilet Looks like a fun idea!

So, here are my top 10 kudoed fics (and some action figure stories) on AO3:


1. Hands (25 Kudos)
Fandom: White Collar
Who would have thought that my first foray into the White Collar fandom would get the most kudos? Clearly I should write more! The story is set after the end of season 5, when Neal got kidnapped.

2. Leisure time (18 Kudos)
Fandom: Sherlock
Action figure pictures of Sherlock and John having a nice quiet day at home.

3. The Lives and Deaths of Malcolm Merlyn (12 Kudos)
Fandoms: Arrow, Torchwood
How Jack Harkness became Malcolm Merlyn.

4. Caught (12 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
Written after seeing some spoilerish pictures for the finale of season 1. Obviously AU as the actual episode was a bit different. It's about Oliver Queen and Malcolm Merlyn finding out their identities as Arrow and the Dark Archer.

5. The Torchwood Team bakes Christmas cookies
Fandom: Torchwood
Action figure pictures of the Torchwood team baking Christmas cookies.

6. Feet (8 Kudos)
Fandom: White Collar
The conclusion to my other story "Hands"

7. Back (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
A story about Malcolm Merlyn being caught and tortured in Nanda Parbat by Ra's al Ghul.

8. How I met my father (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
A missing scene from the end of season 2 - how exactly did Thea know where to find Malcolm?

9. ALS ice bucket challenge, Torchwood style (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Torchwood
Action figure pictures - What the title says.

10. Darkness on the edge of town (8 Kudos)
Fandom: Arrow
Action figure pictures of a famous scene in the season 1 finale - the fight between the Arrow and Malcolm Merlyn.
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dieastra: Strauss (Default)
Title: Back, Chapter 2/2
Author: [personal profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for the quick beta!
Rating: T
Characters: Malcolm Merlyn, Ra's al Ghul
Word Count: 2.274
Notes: Spoilers for episode 3x15 "Nanda Parbat" which airs this week! I saw promotion pictures which inspired me to this story. If you've seen them too you'll know why. I linked the pictures in the text.

Summary: Malcolm is back in Nanda Parbat. Oliver and Diggle try to get him out.

Link to chapter 1/2

Back chapter 2/2


They had given him time to heal which unfortunately gave him way too much time to think.

Could he hope for some sort of rescue? For how long had he been missing now? And who would even miss him? Certainly not Diggle or Felicity who never made a secret of their hatred for him.

Oliver? Doubtful. They hadn’t spoken since Malcolm had pulled that stunt with Slade on the island. Maybe not one of his better moves. He had miscalculated. Again.

Malcolm hadn’t even started to teach Oliver everything he knew about Ra’s al Ghul, so even if the kid was stupid enough to try anyway, he might not survive this time. Malcolm was certain everyone in their right mind would talk Oliver out of it.

And Thea… None of the pain Ra’s al Ghul could inflict on him would hurt as much as the pain in his heart. Malcolm was actually surprised that it hurt quite so much. He had thought his heart had already shattered to pieces when Thea claimed that she wouldn’t be his daughter anymore. It had left him cold and numb inside. It also had pulled the rug out from under his feet. Still, he hadn’t seen her betrayal coming.

But Ra’s had taken great pleasure in gloating how he came to know about his whereabouts – that it had been Thea of all people who had sold him out. Malcolm felt he should actually be proud of her. Even if the result was – inconvenient. He obviously had trained her well. Maybe a little too well, but then, he couldn’t complain. He remembered telling her how proud he was of her when she had shot him back at the station.

So no, no rescue could be expected. If he wanted to make it out of here, he’d have to start thinking.

Once his feet had healed enough he was back for another round as a Thanksgiving turkey. Time soon became a blur. He couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. Time in Nanda Parbat was a funny little thing. When he had returned home to Tommy twenty years ago, he had been surprised to find that only two years had passed in the outside world while in truth he had been gone and in training for much longer.

So he couldn’t know for how long he had been here already, and for how long he really had been gone where the outside world was concerned.

He felt his mind starting to slip, and his body beginning to shut down. It became harder and harder to care about anything. Maybe it was better this way. He had lost everything that once had meant something to him. Rebecca, Tommy, Moira and also Thea. Nothing left to fight for. So why did he still struggle to stay alive? When it would be so much easier to give in, to welcome the darkness? He didn’t know. Maybe his stubbornness wouldn’t let him.

He barely could keep his eyes open.

Suddenly he registered movement. Someone was stealthily sneaking into the room. He blinked smoke-induced tears from his eyes. Maybe he had started to hallucinate. Was that really Oliver standing there? And Diggle? What the hell were they doing here? Were they even real?

Picture: Oliver and Diggle find Malcolm

If they were shocked to see him like this, they didn’t show it and a small part of him was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was their pity. Just somebody to get him out of these chains. Preferably right now?

But before they could make any move, there was another noise at the door and Ra’s and his men came in. Malcolm had forced himself to raise his head a couple of inches, but now he let it drop again. He should have known better than to hope against hope. Now they indeed would all die.

With sudden dread he realized that this was the only reason he was still alive – to lure Oliver over here. He had been the bait. He’d have rather killed himself than help with this perfidious plan.

Read on under the cut: To his surprise, Oliver and Diggle did not put up a fight... )


The End.

Also available at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3429791

Also available at Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11069887/1/Back


If you want to know what happened after Malcolm returned home, look for the story “Aftermath” by my friend BethAlex on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3433130
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dieastra: Strauss (Default)
Title: Back, Chapter 1/2
Author: [personal profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for the quick beta!
Rating: T
Characters: Malcolm Merlyn, Ra's al Ghul
Word Count: 1.635
Notes: Spoilers for episode 3x15 "Nanda Parbat" which airs this week! I saw promotion pictures which inspired me to this story. If you've seen them too you'll know why. I linked the pictures in the text.

Summary: Malcolm is back in Nanda Parbat.

Back


Picture: Malcolm kneeling before Ra's al Ghul

He was back. Back in the place that once had meant so much to him. Forced to kneel before the man who had changed his life forever. And who now would take that life from him. Of that Malcolm had no doubt. It was only a matter of time. But he wouldn’t be dying quickly, he would have to suffer. Until the time came that he welcomed death with open arms.

Malcolm also knew that nothing he could possibly say would make a difference. So he didn’t bother. His pride was all he had left. He refused to talk at all while kneeling before Ra’s al Ghul. He contended himself with throwing hateful glances towards the man while subtly testing his restraints – damn, they were tight, no way to wriggle out of them - and otherwise tried to let whatever Ra’s was saying wash over him. It was not important. They all knew why he was here and what the result would be. But obviously, Ra’s felt the need to make an example of him in front of his men. Malcolm just wished he would get it over and done with it.

It was like in an action movie with the bad guy making his impressive final speech. To be honest, Malcolm had done his fair share of gloating at other opportunities. It came with the territory. Funny how your perspective changed when you were on the receiving end. The hard cold stone floor dug mercilessly into his kneecaps and he still felt weak from whatever they had dosed him with. He was getting too old for this shit.

He’d tried to fight them when they came for him, but there were three of them and he was alone. And he didn’t have his weapons. Still, he’d managed to kill one with the knife he always hid in his boot. But then he had felt the prick of a dart in his neck. His usual effective moves became sluggish and his punches lacked power. Bastards. Should he feel honored that Ra’s had felt the need to send three goons after him, or insulted that it hadn’t been five?

He had been only dimly aware how they had dragged him to the helicopter and how he had ended up here.

Picture: Malcolm being dragged before Ra's al Ghul

Here, that was Nanda Parbat.

Picture: Close-up of Malcolm kneeling

When Ra’s made the mistake of getting down to Malcolm’s level to stare right into his eyes while making the most disturbing comment about Thea, Malcolm spat into his face. That earned him a forceful punch to the jaw and he finally passed out.

<---<<< <---<<< <---<<<


Read on under the cut: When he came to, his surroundings had changed. )

To be continued in the second and final chapter tomorrow! It's written but the beta has yet to correct it.
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dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Title: Back, Chapter 2/2
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for the quick beta!
Rating: T
Characters: Malcolm Merlyn, Ra's al Ghul
Word Count: 2.274
Notes: Spoilers for episode 3x15 "Nanda Parbat" which airs this week! I saw promotion pictures which inspired me to this story. If you've seen them too you'll know why. I linked the pictures in the text.

Summary: Malcolm is back in Nanda Parbat. Oliver and Diggle try to get him out.

Link to chapter 1/2

Back chapter 2/2


They had given him time to heal which unfortunately gave him way too much time to think.

Could he hope for some sort of rescue? For how long had he been missing now? And who would even miss him? Certainly not Diggle or Felicity who never made a secret of their hatred for him.

Oliver? Doubtful. They hadn’t spoken since Malcolm had pulled that stunt with Slade on the island. Maybe not one of his better moves. He had miscalculated. Again.

Malcolm hadn’t even started to teach Oliver everything he knew about Ra’s al Ghul, so even if the kid was stupid enough to try anyway, he might not survive this time. Malcolm was certain everyone in their right mind would talk Oliver out of it.

And Thea… None of the pain Ra’s al Ghul could inflict on him would hurt as much as the pain in his heart. Malcolm was actually surprised that it hurt quite so much. He had thought his heart had already shattered to pieces when Thea claimed that she wouldn’t be his daughter anymore. It had left him cold and numb inside. It also had pulled the rug out from under his feet. Still, he hadn’t seen her betrayal coming.

But Ra’s had taken great pleasure in gloating how he came to know about his whereabouts – that it had been Thea of all people who had sold him out. Malcolm felt he should actually be proud of her. Even if the result was – inconvenient. He obviously had trained her well. Maybe a little too well, but then, he couldn’t complain. He remembered telling her how proud he was of her when she had shot him back at the station.

So no, no rescue could be expected. If he wanted to make it out of here, he’d have to start thinking.

Once his feet had healed enough he was back for another round as a Thanksgiving turkey. Time soon became a blur. He couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. Time in Nanda Parbat was a funny little thing. When he had returned home to Tommy twenty years ago, he had been surprised to find that only two years had passed in the outside world while in truth he had been gone and in training for much longer.

So he couldn’t know for how long he had been here already, and for how long he really had been gone where the outside world was concerned.

He felt his mind starting to slip, and his body beginning to shut down. It became harder and harder to care about anything. Maybe it was better this way. He had lost everything that once had meant something to him. Rebecca, Tommy, Moira and also Thea. Nothing left to fight for. So why did he still struggle to stay alive? When it would be so much easier to give in, to welcome the darkness? He didn’t know. Maybe his stubbornness wouldn’t let him.

He barely could keep his eyes open.

Suddenly he registered movement. Someone was stealthily sneaking into the room. He blinked smoke-induced tears from his eyes. Maybe he had started to hallucinate. Was that really Oliver standing there? And Diggle? What the hell were they doing here? Were they even real?

Picture: Oliver and Diggle find Malcolm

If they were shocked to see him like this, they didn’t show it and a small part of him was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was their pity. Just somebody to get him out of these chains. Preferably right now?

But before they could make any move, there was another noise at the door and Ra’s and his men came in. Malcolm had forced himself to raise his head a couple of inches, but now he let it drop again. He should have known better than to hope against hope. Now they indeed would all die.

With sudden dread he realized that this was the only reason he was still alive – to lure Oliver over here. He had been the bait. He’d have rather killed himself than help with this perfidious plan.

Read on under the cut: To his surprise, Oliver and Diggle did not put up a fight... )


The End.

Also available at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3429791

Also available at Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11069887/1/Back


If you want to know what happened after Malcolm returned home, look for the story “Aftermath” by my friend BethAlex on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3433130
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dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Title: Back, Chapter 1/2
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for the quick beta!
Rating: T
Characters: Malcolm Merlyn, Ra's al Ghul
Word Count: 1.635
Notes: Spoilers for episode 3x15 "Nanda Parbat" which airs this week! I saw promotion pictures which inspired me to this story. If you've seen them too you'll know why. I linked the pictures in the text.

Summary: Malcolm is back in Nanda Parbat.

Back


Picture: Malcolm kneeling before Ra's al Ghul

He was back. Back in the place that once had meant so much to him. Forced to kneel before the man who had changed his life forever. And who now would take that life from him. Of that Malcolm had no doubt. It was only a matter of time. But he wouldn’t be dying quickly, he would have to suffer. Until the time came that he welcomed death with open arms.

Malcolm also knew that nothing he could possibly say would make a difference. So he didn’t bother. His pride was all he had left. He refused to talk at all while kneeling before Ra’s al Ghul. He contended himself with throwing hateful glances towards the man while subtly testing his restraints – damn, they were tight, no way to wriggle out of them - and otherwise tried to let whatever Ra’s was saying wash over him. It was not important. They all knew why he was here and what the result would be. But obviously, Ra’s felt the need to make an example of him in front of his men. Malcolm just wished he would get it over and done with it.

It was like in an action movie with the bad guy making his impressive final speech. To be honest, Malcolm had done his fair share of gloating at other opportunities. It came with the territory. Funny how your perspective changed when you were on the receiving end. The hard cold stone floor dug mercilessly into his kneecaps and he still felt weak from whatever they had dosed him with. He was getting too old for this shit.

He’d tried to fight them when they came for him, but there were three of them and he was alone. And he didn’t have his weapons. Still, he’d managed to kill one with the knife he always hid in his boot. But then he had felt the prick of a dart in his neck. His usual effective moves became sluggish and his punches lacked power. Bastards. Should he feel honored that Ra’s had felt the need to send three goons after him, or insulted that it hadn’t been five?

He had been only dimly aware how they had dragged him to the helicopter and how he had ended up here.

Picture: Malcolm being dragged before Ra's al Ghul

Here, that was Nanda Parbat.

Picture: Close-up of Malcolm kneeling

When Ra’s made the mistake of getting down to Malcolm’s level to stare right into his eyes while making the most disturbing comment about Thea, Malcolm spat into his face. That earned him a forceful punch to the jaw and he finally passed out.

<---<<< <---<<< <---<<<


Read on under the cut: When he came to, his surroundings had changed. )

To be continued in the second and final chapter tomorrow! It's written but the beta has yet to correct it.
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dieastra: Strauss (Default)
Title: Feet
Author: [personal profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for all the hard work!
Rating: K
Category: Angst, Humor
Characters: Neal Caffrey, Mozzie, June
Word Count: 1.079

Summary: Neal has been asked to do something but suddenly got cold feet. But it’s the start of his new life. -

Notes: This is a sequel to my other story Hands but can be read alone as well.




Feet

Neal looked down at his feet. They had used to be on the move constantly. They had jumped out of windows, leapt down from buildings, dangled from heights far above the ground. They had kicked open doors, moved up ladders, sneaked into buildings, and danced along the corridor to the evidence room in the FBI building. Once or twice they had even managed to keep him from drowning, when his only way out had been jumping into water. But most of the time, they had been running. In all his years as a con man, he never stayed in one place for too long. Always afraid of being caught.

Even after his days as a con man were over, and he had started working for the FBI, he still had needed to run away a lot. People always were shooting at him with firearms, or bows and arrows. Staying on the move meant staying alive.

But right now, his feet would not move one inch. It actually weren’t his feet that were the problem, his knees were. They were locked and didn’t budge at all. Neal knew he couldn’t stay here indefinitely, that he had to walk those last few steps through the door ahead, but he just couldn’t. He was terrified.

Aside from his feet and knees, his voice was failing him as well. He was used to being able to talk his way out of every situation, always knew how to read his opponents, and instinctively knew the right approach to winning them over, to make them consider hearing him out instead of simply shooting him. His voice could be charming, coaxing, and smooth; it also could be loud and angry and hurt, but right now, it was nonexistent. He seemed to have lost it; it seemed stuck in his throat, and he was unable to say even one word. Let alone do what was expected of him any minute now!

He should never have agreed to this. What would Peter think of him? And Elizabeth, Jones and Diana? He did not need to guess what Mozzie would be thinking; he was in on this, and had actively helped prepare Neal during the past weeks. Read on here: Still he felt he wasn’t ready, not at all... )

Also posted on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2619854

Also posted on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10826321/1/
dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Title: Feet
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for all the hard work!
Rating: K
Category: Angst, Humor
Characters: Neal Caffrey, Mozzie, June
Word Count: 1.079

Summary: Neal has been asked to do something but suddenly got cold feet. But it’s the start of his new life.

Notes: This is a sequel to my other story Hands but can be read alone as well.




Feet

Neal looked down at his feet. They had used to be on the move constantly. They had jumped out of windows, leapt down from buildings, dangled from heights far above the ground. They had kicked open doors, moved up ladders, sneaked into buildings, and danced along the corridor to the evidence room in the FBI building. Once or twice they had even managed to keep him from drowning, when his only way out had been jumping into water. But most of the time, they had been running. In all his years as a con man, he never stayed in one place for too long. Always afraid of being caught.

Even after his days as a con man were over, and he had started working for the FBI, he still had needed to run away a lot. People always were shooting at him with firearms, or bows and arrows. Staying on the move meant staying alive.

But right now, his feet would not move one inch. It actually weren’t his feet that were the problem, his knees were. They were locked and didn’t budge at all. Neal knew he couldn’t stay here indefinitely, that he had to walk those last few steps through the door ahead, but he just couldn’t. He was terrified.

Aside from his feet and knees, his voice was failing him as well. He was used to being able to talk his way out of every situation, always knew how to read his opponents, and instinctively knew the right approach to winning them over, to make them consider hearing him out instead of simply shooting him. His voice could be charming, coaxing, and smooth; it also could be loud and angry and hurt, but right now, it was nonexistent. He seemed to have lost it; it seemed stuck in his throat, and he was unable to say even one word. Let alone do what was expected of him any minute now!

He should never have agreed to this. What would Peter think of him? And Elizabeth, Jones and Diana? He did not need to guess what Mozzie would be thinking; he was in on this, and had actively helped prepare Neal during the past weeks. Read on here: Still he felt he wasn’t ready, not at all... )

Also posted on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2619854

Also posted on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10826321/1/

http://wcnewsletter.livejournal.com/358516.html

http://usanetworknews.livejournal.com/221575.html
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dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
My first "White Collar" fanfiction! This was bound to be to happen. Can't wait for Thursday and the 6th season to start. In the meantime, enjoy - hopefully!

Title: Hands
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you Beth for all the hard work and [livejournal.com profile] tardisjournal for some additional suggestions!
Rating: T
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Neal Caffrey, Mozzie, June, Peter, Diana
Word Count: 3.532
Spoilers last episode of season 5

Summary: After having been released from his kidnappers, Neal has to learn to accept some changes in his life.

Notes: Another one of those "What happened to Neal after the season 5 finale" stories. Still I hope I found a different approach.

*****

Hands

Neal looked down at his hands. He always had liked to be busy. All those years behind bars, where he only could sit and stare at the walls, waiting for the day to be over. It had almost driven him crazy.

His hands had been his tools, they had done so many things. Sketched on paper. Painted canvas. Forged Whiskey. Chiselled a block of marble. Swung swords and billiard cues. Flipped a hat around. Picked locks. Opened safes. Grabbed briefcases from pockets and watches from wrists. Slipped out of countless handcuffs. They had hugged Peter, clapped his shoulder, taught him how to mix drinks. They had taken oaths he had not intended to keep, and also a few he actually had meant to keep, until circumstances prevented it. They also had opened many wine bottles, held even more countless women, stroked them tenderly, cooked meals for them. They had typed away on a keyboard, written FBI reports, and they even had punched a face and shot a gun once or twice. And if they hadn’t been busy with any of that, they liked to fiddle with a pen at least. Always keeping busy.

Even when he had been “retired” to that island – yeah, didn’t last long, that – he had not just sat down and relaxed. He had still liked to paint, and maybe one day he might even have started on some original work. And his hands had sculpted that sand castle of the New York skyline. The view from his apartment window.

But now all of this was in the past. Now his fingers looked and felt like useless claws. “They” had done their best to ensure that he’d never use them again properly. Every single finger broken, some even two or three times. The doctors had done what they could, but his days as con man were officially over. His fingers were stiff now, and hurt occasionally. Some of the fractures hadn’t healed properly. He was able to get by in his daily life, but ever so often he was reminded of his limitations. Every single task took twice as long as it should have.

And to this day he didn’t know who “they” were. So he couldn’t even plan any revenge. The man (or woman?) behind his kidnapping had been careful to never show their face. And they had known what they were doing, grabbing Neal at a time when nobody would miss him. Neal had spent months as a prisoner – again – trying to survive, doing what they wanted. Waiting for Peter to come and find him. Again. Only, Peter never came. And Neal continued to suffer.

Oh, they had been careful to not damage his eyes or his hands. They needed him to forge all kinds of stuff for them. He was valuable. The rest of his body, not so much. But they had been careful to not inflict any permanent damage. Nothing that wouldn’t heal on its own. Neal had soon stopped to count all the marks on his body. He’d tried to resist, at first, hoping against hope that in a few hours some people would storm through the door, shouting “FBI! Put your weapons down!”

More than once he had wished he had told Peter about the man following him. Things might have been different then.

But the longer he waited, and the more they “insisted”, the more his resistance crumbled. Especially when they got out the electric wires.

He’d tried a new tactic then, pretending to work willingly, while trying to hide hints in his work. Hints for Peter to pick up on. Sometimes they caught him doing it, which resulted in another beating, sometimes they didn’t. But it made no difference, Peter still didn’t come.

And they had known him so well. They had kept him in a room that had nothing he could work with, to try to get out on his own.

The room was absolutely bare. He slept on the naked concrete. He got only food that needed no cutting, no knife. Of course not. But he did not even have a bowl for his “personal needs” which he could have smashed onto the head of one of his captors. He had to wait for the few times a day when someone would accompany him to the toilet. Standing right next to him with a gun in his back actually. He’d tried to not let the humiliation get to him, acting nonchalant instead – hey, he was Neal Caffrey, always a smile on his lips!

His world also had become very quiet. Nobody ever talked to him. The only noise was the grunting of the men who beat him, and his own moans when he couldn’t suppress them any longer. Sometimes, when he was alone in his cell, he talked loudly to himself, just to hear his voice.

He’d completely lost track of time. The room they kept him in had no window. He knew no day, no night. They amused themselves with startling him awake at irregular hours, which soon left him exhausted and confused. All he knew was that he had been here for a long time already, and that this was what the rest of his life would be like.

That’s when he stopped doing anything at all. They beat him – he didn’t care. They threatened to kill him – he didn’t care. He stopped eating entirely and lost quite some weight until they realized he was serious, he wanted out of this, one way or the other.

Surprisingly, they didn’t just kill him. Sometimes he wished they had. Instead they dropped him off at some street corner far away from home, almost as good as new, except for that last gift they had left him with.

They had taken the most important thing from him, the ultimate punishment. As far as Neal was concerned, his life was over.

It had been a long and excruciating walk home. Read on here: He had no money, no phone... )

On to the sequel: Feet

Also posted at fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10798745/1/

Also posted at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2555972

http://wcnewsletter.livejournal.com/356675.html

http://usanetworknews.livejournal.com/220594.html
dieastra: Strauss (Strauss)
Title: Naked Roulette
Author: [livejournal.com profile] dieastra
Beta: Thank you [livejournal.com profile] tardisjournal for the beta!
Rating: M
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Owen Harper, Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato
Word Count: 1.970

Summary: The Torchwood team plays a rather unusual game of roulette.

Notes: This story was inspired by a drabble with the same title by [livejournal.com profile] iantojjackh You can read it here: http://iantojjackh.livejournal.com/106647.html
Posted with permission. Thank you for that!

*****

„Go jogging for an hour,“ Ianto had said. “Wear yourself out. Then come back to me.”

So Jack did. While he was running through the park, his mind started wandering. Wandering and wondering what Ianto had in store for him this time. He loved it when Ianto took control once in a while.

After running easily for a while, he steadily increased the pace and at the end of his run he was breathing heavily and feeling a satisfying tiredness. He couldn’t wait to get home. When did he start to think of Ianto’s flat as home, he mused.

When he came in through the door, all sweaty and exhausted, he wanted nothing more than a cuddle on the sofa and – probably? hopefully? – nice slow lovemaking. He tried to kiss Ianto on the spot, but was turned away.

“Patience, Jack. Go shower first. No need to get dressed afterwards.”

“Yes, Sir!” Jack flipped back and went to shower in a new world record. When he came back, he was disappointed to find that Ianto still was fully dressed. Clearly this evening was not going to Jack’s expectations so far.

And more weird things happened. Ianto had put the big table into the middle of the room, covered it with a green blanket, and set out body paint in the colours red and black.

„Lie down at the table, Jack. Face up, arms at your side.”

Ianto then turned and busied himself with his colours and a book Jack could not see the title of. Jack was so surprised that he just did as he was asked, but gave Ianto a puzzled look. Not that it didn’t do any good, being wasted at his backside. Which was actually a very nice backside, Jack noticed.

Ianto added a pillow under Jack’s head. “Now close your eyes.” Jack did that as well but of course not completely; he peeked under his eyelids as he was curious about what Ianto would be doing next.
Ianto didn’t seem to mind... )

Also posted at fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10778396/1/

Also posted at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2506892

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