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spacerangersam · 1 year

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I read a lot of fanfiction and I have a 1st degree in creative writing (also dyslexia, so sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes) so fuck it, here’s some writing advice for newbie writers that I wouldn’t have minded learning earlier:

(also sorry if some of this is incomphresnible, i am- not always good at explaining myself, ironically enough)

If you’re going to use a fancy word please for the love of god look it up and double-check it does in fact mean what you think it means. The same goes if you’re looking up a synonym of a word. Just because google says two words are close enough, doesn’t mean they actually are.

Spacing is your friend. Double spacing is best, but if you can’t do that, single will suffice. For example this:

Is much easier to read than this:

And for me personally, if I can see with a quick glance that a piece has bad spacing I will not even attempt to read it

Don’t use capitals after dialogue if it’s a speech tag. For example, “Don’t be stupid!” she said. You are, technically speaking, continuing the sentence, after all, punctuation be dammed. If you’re describing a different action though, eg - “Don’t be stupid.” She picked up the knife, thrusting it into the air. - then you can use capitals. It’s a separate action, unrelated to the dialogue, and therefore a separate sentence

And back to spacing, please use a new paragraph for every new speaker. Again, if the layout of a piece is good it will be way easier to read, and more poeple will be willing to read it

This doesn’t matter as much for fanfics, but I think it doesn’t hurt to keep it in mind: a very common way of writing fanfiction is in close third person, ie it’s in 3rd person, but you are focusing on one character only, focusing only on their thoughts, their feelings etc. It’s that one chararcter’s pov, but from a distance. And if that’s the case, you shouldn’t drift to another character’s pov halfway through the prose, then drift back to character a.

And I’m not talking about a purposeful change to a new character’s pov, I mean this:

If it was in true close 3rd close, I should not be able to know Blue’s thoughts, as they are not the primary character. You should treat close 3rd person in the exact same way you’d treate 1st person stories. Like I said, for fanfiction, it’s not the end of the world, but still

Make sure you’re not repeating any words too much. If it’s purposefully, then that’s another thing, but if it’s not, cut it down a bit (I literally just had to do that with the examples I showed earlier, as I used the word lighter in two sentences right next to each other).

In the same vein, don’t have characters say other characters' names too often in dialogue. I mean, think about conversations you have with friends/family/co-workers. Do you say their names a lot when talking to them? Probably not, because they know you’re addressing them, there’s no need for it.

Get the free version of Grammarly, if you can. Paid is…probably better but idk, haven’t tried it. Even just the free version is helpful, especially for me as a dyslexic person.

Said isn’t dead. As I mentioned, you don’t want to repeat words so do spice it up a bit, but sometimes, a good old-fashioned said is all you need. Also, don’t be afraid to forget speach tags altogether. If you want to make it clear a new chararcter is talking, you could instead do something like this:

This isn’t really a tip, but consider playing around with the layout. For example, whenever I’m writing a phone,

It’s a small thing, not necessarily at all, but I think it makes it a bit more fun to read if you can tell the writer’s also had fun playing around.

Keeping in mind what you’re characters are doing / where they are / any objects that they may holding etc. You don’t want to have character a start a scene holding a mug, only for it to miraculously disappear by the end of it, or do an action they should not be able to do while holding a mug.

This is one I still struggle with, but keeping track of all your characters in a scene - in the sense that if you have five characters, but only 3 are actively doing something it can make it seem like you forgot the other 2, like they’re just standing there like an NPC waiting to be addressed. That’s fine if the 2 characters are canonical quiet and preferred to keep out of the way, but still…I’d recommend giving them something to do.

For example, if I’m having my mc enter a scene with multiple characters, I’ll write a quick sentence describing what each character is doing ie ‘charracter b was reading, c was scoffing down a bowl of cereal, d was fast asleep on the sofa, and e was trying to clean up a stain’.

That way if a conversation does start between three characters and the focus is only on them, you know that the others aren’t just t-posing in the background, waiting, basically. It can help make things feel a bit more natural.

that’s all i have the energy for, i’m afraid. happy writing

#this is such a mess i'm sorry #i hope someone at least finds at leats one piece of advice useful?

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neptunesfullbuster · 3 years

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You know for a fact my ass is gonna send another gajeel request your way. Like it's not even a question.

Have you written domestic hcs for him yet?

If not, could you?

DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

characters. gajeel redfox

authors note. hehe of course, anything for you lol. hope you like it<33 (side note: changing up my fic layout theme btw)

Gajeel wouldn’t be a bad person to live with tbh

Basically don’t touch his shit and he won’t touch yours

But there is a slight issue...

Gajeel is one of those people who are chaotically organized

Literally, stuff is EVERYWHERE

But for some reason, he knows where everything is and gets mad when people move everything around.

Now of course he’ll switch it up and be considerate for your sake, he isn’t an asshole

But be mindful he has his space and even if it’s a complete mess that makes you wanna scream leave it.

Just leave it...

I find the dragon slayers have a slight organization issue and tend to have lots and clutter because of the fact dragons are known to be hoarders so yeah:)

Your house is just filled with little things of stuff you got on jobs

Actually, at some point, there’s an entire section dedicated to things you picked up along the way

It’s actually quite nice in its own way...

Now Gajeel is either really good at cooking or god awful

This man loves a good ass meal

Even if he sucks or is really good when you’re cooking he’ll try and add his own “spice” to the meal.

Sometimes it works… other times 0_0

Not so good…

Gajeel definitely likes spicy food so he’ll just toss something spicy in when you’re not paying attention. He claims it just needed “a kick to it.”

You guys barely argue

Its usually just bickering about what reality tv show to watch or what’s for dinner

In one way or another, it gets resolved because neither of you wants to go to bed annoyed at each other

I’m sorry but…

You’re going to have cats, whether you like them or not

Hell even if you’re allergic you’re going to have a cat

Probably multiple cats

Gajeel is 100% a cat person and you can’t say otherwise

Magnolia has a cattery and almost every day he walks past and resists the urge of going in and petting them because “he has an image he needs to keep.”

Actually, you’ll go on dates there and he claims its for your sake when everyone knows it not.

Lily doesn’t mind them, does he like them? He would prefer if they weren’t there but he doesn’t pay rent soooo

Of course, you two are considerate of him and did get the okay but still, would prefer it to be a single cat-ish house

secretly would love them

reblog + interaction is high appreciated! please don’t spam like<3

#sarah writes.#fairy tail #fairy tail imagines #fairy tail fanfic #fairy tail imagine #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail gajeel redfox #gajeel redfox headcanon #fairy tail headcannons #fairy tail headcanon #gajeel redfox x reader #gajeel redfox imagine #gajeel redfox fanfiction #gajeel redfox fanfic #gajeel redfox imagines

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nazyalenskyism · 3 years

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Sweeter Things

A/N: Here’s a mini @grishaversebigbang fic from Kaz’s P.O.V. Please check out the amazing artwork this fic is based on below by the fantastic artists I was lucky enough to work with on this! Hope you enjoy!

Find the beautiful art for this fic by @wellwatersurprise & @iri-lynx here!

Summary: Kaz discovers a few things about himself and his fellow Crows thanks to an outing to Ketterdam’s most expensive café.

Ao3: Sweeter Things

Kaz tapped his cane against the pristine marble tiles, punctuating each passing second displayed on his pocket watch with a sharp rap. Nina Zenik was late, again. He leaned back against the wall, propping a foot against the ghastly gilded wallpaper, resting his head against a window frame. From the stories he’d overheard Nina telling Inej, he’d assumed that the Ravkan army generals who she feared had instilled a sense of punctuality in her but evidently, being on time to a meeting she planned was not a skill of hers.

When she finally drifted through the door, her bright red blouse with its flowing sleeves billowing in the breeze, it was more than a quarter hour after their scheduled meeting time.

“Kaz!” Nina beamed.

“Zenik,” He ground out.

They followed the server to a small booth tucked in the side of the restaurant, Nina looking at the menu for all but three seconds before she ordered. For both of them.

“I didn’t come here to eat.”

“Well I did,” Nina sniffed. “Being seen in public with you is horrible enough, I need something to ease the pain.”

He’d never had waffles before, and he certainly didn’t want to try them for the first time while sitting across from Nina of all people. Did Ravka not have the dish? Why was she so entranced by glorified pancakes?

She frowned at him, as if she could sense what he was thinking. Maybe she could. As much research as he’d done, he didn’t know the full extent of her Corporalki powers. “Keep up appearances, Kaz. This place is notoriously difficult to get into, people wait months for a table. If you don’t eat your food like someone who has been waiting ages to try it, you will be raising suspicions.”

“No one knows me here, this isn’t the Barrel, Zenik. What do I care?”

“The new owner of the place is soon to be married to a high ranking member of the Dime Lions, so unless you want someone whispering to their lover about an oddly behaving rat with greasy hair in a perfectly tailored suit, you better eat up.”

Kaz had never wished the rumors that his glare could kill were true more than he did in this moment. Nina Zenik was a nuisance in a class of her own.

“What did you need to--”

“Oh,” she sighed, cutting him off completely, “we can’t talk about business when there’s a chance the servers might overhear while bringing us our food. We’ll have to wait until we eat.”

Fantastic.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Nina’s few feeble attempts to initiate a conversation died out when he refused to respond, and apparently for the first time, Nina Zenik wasn’t in the mood to talk herself to sleep. Finally, some quiet, he thought, letting him consider why she’d invited him here for this meeting in the first place. Before he would think too much about it, two steaming plates were deposited before them, and before he’d reached for his cutlery, Nina was already digging in. He took his time, and when he finally raised the fork to his mouth, he thought he was about to lose his reputation, here in the middle of the Finance District.

Great Ghenzhen’s gavel, they were delicious. Kaz reached for his coffee, hoping the bitterness of the dark roast would help him regain his composure. He disliked sugary things for a reason, because he’d loved them as a child. The once light aftertaste of sugar on his tongue was now acerbic, reminding him of money they’d never had, spent on frivolous things like melted chocolate and spun sugar. Sweet things were not meant for Barrel rats like him, they belonged in the hands of Merchers who had grown too comfortable, forgetting that the fall was always easier than the climb, especially when they hadn’t been the ones clawing to the top themselves. He finally looked up from his plate to see Nina half-finished, and a waiter walking away from their table. Had he been that entranced with the food that he’d missed someone visiting the table? His companion tilted her head at him, her gaze assessing him before she finally spoke.

“Inej likes the double cinnamon waffles with the orange syrup.” Kaz stared at her. “Jesper’s favourite is plain waffles with apple syrup and a side of eggs and bacon.” Kaz kept staring at her. “Incase you liked what you tasted and wanted more.” He narrowed his eyes, she was more observant than she let on, though the mile-wide smirk on her face was enough to make sure those words never reached her ears.

Kaz said nothing, simply took his fork in his left hand, his knife in his right and slowly cut into his breakfast, maintaining eye contact with Nina the entire time he popped the bite into his mouth, chewing slowly. He reached for his mug, taking a long swig before putting it down. “They taste awful.”

Nina scoffed, “grow up, Kaz.”

“Why am I here, Zenik?”

She shrugged, “why do you think you’re here?”

“Because you arranged this meeting to talk about an important topic, which you didn’t want overheard in the barrel,” Kaz growled, “that’s what you said yesterday.”

“I was wrong,” she said simply, taking the last bite from her plate. “The information is irrelevant now.”

“ Nina, tell me what it is.” The knife in his hand was feeling like a good motivational tool.

Her eyes crinkled stubbornly, “are you helping me get my prisoner out of jail?”

“No.” The answer was always no.

“Then I have nothing more to offer you today.” She slipped from her seat, smiling at the server who placed a large bag on the table, “thanks for the breakfast but I have to get back. My break’s over.” Without another word she flounced over to the hostess, undoubtedly flirting her way into another tin of their spiced syrup and then she was disappearing down the street with her giant bag of waffles in tow.

Kaz scowled in the direction she’d disappeared off into. Then he scowled down at his food. A few minutes later he scowled as he flagged down a server for a menu, and he scowled as he placed far too many Kruge on the table. Kaz scowled all the way home, curse Nina Zenik.

***

“Ghafa, Fahey,” Anika called from the doorway, “there’re parcels here for you.” Inej and Jesper shared a look, who was sending them packages here? Inej had never been sent anything, and if people who took a liking to Jesper wanted to give him something, they usually used it as a way to get another meeting with him. Jesper’s long legs got him to the entryway first, and he let out a whoop of delight as he picked up the bags from the ground. There were two, one labeled “Jesper,” the other labeled “Inej,” in an unfamiliar scrawl. The smell emanating from them was heavenly.

“Waffles,” Jesper moaned clutching his bag to his chest. “Who sent us waffles?”

“Nina?”

“These are from the most expensive cafe in Ketterdam, I don’t know if she could afford it.”

Inej frowned, she knew someone who had that type of money. “Come, food like this deserves to be eaten in a place with a view. I know the perfect rooftop.”

As they passed through the alleyway towards the Zemeni Embassy she glanced up at the top floors of the Slat, at his office. She thought she caught the edge of a black coat flapping in the window, but then it was gone and all she could see was the static layout of the room. Inej caught back up with Jesper, letting his animated tales of his latest escapade wash over her, her thanks sent to the Saints instead of someone who didn’t want them.

*** Kaz settled back in his chair once his sharpshooter and Wraith had passed, his pen flipping through his fingers. He could still hear their cheerful banter from the other end of the alley and he allowed himself a single moment to close his eyes, dreaming of a world where he could join them. Then his eyes snapped open and he turned back to the books. He didn’t live in a fantasy world, he lived in this one and no amount of whimpering was going to change the fact that he would always be the one watching from afar. And that was the way he liked it.

#gvbb21 #gvbbminibang21 #gang4 #soc fic #six of crows fic #kaz brekker #s&b #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #nina zenik #the crows #soc

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manikas-whims · 3 years

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Turmeric Milk

A sequel to my other Kanej fic Holi

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Modern AU

Kaz had told his neighbour Inej that he'd call up his doctor friend to get his wounds treated but she stills decides to check up on him.

And with a weird drink at that..

Note:

I've decided to turn this Modern AU into a series.

Hope you enjoy this one as well ♥

Kaz rouses from his slumber due to the noise of the cellphone buzzing and sits up, accidentally hurting the wound on his chest. He represses a hiss and looks around, finding himself on his living room’s couch. The wall clock that his eyes land on, make him realize its past seven at night. Great, sleeping at odd hours. Pushing off the duvet, he scrambles to his feet, a jolt of ache shooting through his bad leg. Immediately, he seeks purchase in the arm of the couch, taking deep breaths to help himself endure the ache.

His phone buzzes again and he picks it up in annoyance. ‘W. Van Eck’, the screen reads and Kaz sighs, receiving the call.

“What happened?” He grunts out.

He can hear a loud huff from the other end. “You know Kaz, those shouldn't be your words to initiate a phone conversation.”

He rubs his eyes, trying to bite back the string of colorful words at the tip of his cursed tongue. “What do you want, Wylan?”

There’s a long pause. “Jes and I wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m doing quite alright.” He grits out as calmly as possible.

“Listen Kaz, if you need–”

“I’m not a child Wylan. I can take care of myself.” Kaz reminds him. He likes his crew because they do their jobs perfectly well but thats all he expects of them. His health and personal lifestyle is none of their concern.

“..kay, I understand. Rest well.” Wylan mumbles and disconnects the call.

With that, Kaz tosses his cellphone to the couch and limps towards his bedroom. Its about time he takes a much needed bath and orders his dinner.

By the time he’s done, he changes into another pair of trousers and lets his towel dangle around his neck. There's several drawers in the side rail of his bed. He crouches down to open the middle one and rummages out a first aid kit from within.

Grabbing his cane from the mattress, he walks out to the living room. Immediately his eyes take note of the duvet falling off his couch and the half-filled bottle of brandy but he chooses to ignore them. He’s not in the mood for tidying up. He simply picks up his cellphone and places an order for hutspot from the Kooperom, a diner nearby. It should take around twenty minutes to arrive and as such, he decides to address his injuries.

He sits heavily onto the couch, placing his cane in his lap and pulls out a roll of gauze and a flask of liquid disinfectant. Dousing a cotton pad in the disinfectant, he starts swiping the cut that trails diagonally from the right side of his chest down to his navel, just like he'd done earlier in the morning. That punch to his face had blinded him for a moment and another Razorgull took advantage of that. The teeth of that man’s knife tore so callously through his skin that Kaz winces several times during the whole cleansing. Finally as his hand reaches for the gauze roll, the dinging sound of the doorbell interrupts him.

The food delivery guy can’t make it this quick. A single father and his son run the whole diner by themselves. The thought makes Kaz gaze uncertainly at the door.

The bell rings again and this time Kaz stands up with his cane. He takes slow steps, snaking out a revolver from behind a painting next to the door and then turns the knob.

“Ohh God!” a feminine voice shrieks, making Kaz flinch.

His deep, coffee irises clash with a pair of dark brown ones and he scowls. Its none other than his next-door neighbour— Inej Ghafa. She’s forgone her shimmering traditional garbs and is sporting a set of faded blue silk pajamas. Her long, flowing hair has been pulled together in a single braid. And she has a small jar full of something yellow in her hands.

“The hell!?” He grits out.

She flushes at the sight of his bare torso as she speaks, “I just came by to check up on you.”

Really? Kaz lets out an exasperated sigh and glares at the jar of the unknown yellow. His lips curl in memory of that excessively-sugary Indian sweet that she had shoved in his mouth this morning. He’s not falling for her words again.

Her own eyes follow his and she smiles, lifting the jar higher. “Ah yes! I brought turmeric for you.”

He scrunches his nose in suspicion. “I don’t think I need it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Says the man with a gun.”

Exactly! And she must be scared of this sight. Not strike jokes about it. But he has to admit he’s quite pleased that she’s mentioning the gun instead of commenting on the cane in his other hand. She doesn't even flash a single pitiful glance like the others who come across him do.

“Anyways, may I come in?” She waits patiently.

“For what?” He asks.

“To make you a glass of turmeric milk.” She states, as if its the most normal thing to do for a neighbour.

“Again, I don't need that.” It feels like arguing with a saleswoman.

“But its good for health.” She informs wisely and her eyes stray towards his chest. “And it'll help you heal faster.”

He quirks a brow incredulously. “Fantastic! Just what I needed. Give me the jar and I'll make it myself.”

“Just like you said you'll call you doctor friend?” Her eyes rove pointedly over the injured state of his chest and she shakes her head. “I think I should do this myself.”

Kaz gulps. He knows he will regret this later. Yet something tells him that rejecting her hospitality will only make her more persistent. And its not like his significant belongings just lie around the house. She won’t be able to figure-out anything about him. Yeah but what kind of a sane guy greets a neighbor with a gun? He dismisses the thought instantly. Maybe she’ll just make her energy drink and leave. Maybe she won't consider him a sociopath at all.

“Come in.” He slides the gun in his pocket and opens the door wider.

Inej neatly puts her slippers in the shoe-rack before following Kaz into the living room. While he resumes his task of bandaging his wound, she watches quietly, making him feel self-conscious for the first time since he was fourteen. Now that he isn’t focused on interrogating her, he is unable to be as nonchalant as he had been minutes ago.

“Your job sure keeps you entertained.” She remarks. “I thought your line of work didn’t allow action to this..severity.”

Kaz regards her curiously. He isn’t sure he’s aware of what she’s talking about. Is she a spy from another rising gang? Is she vaguely suggesting she knows about his position in the Dregs? His hands twitch as they tie the gauze.

“You are a Private Investigator, afterall.” She adds.

Oh. Kaz nods in relief. Of course she's talking about his cover job. She probably learnt this as well from the building management.

“Ye-Yeah..things do get messy sometimes.” He confesses imprecisely and starts returning the disinfectant, cotton pads and the remaining gauze into the kit. He needs a shirt. He's never felt so nervous in a woman's presence.

Thankfully, she ends the awkward moment for the both of them. “I..I should start on that milk. If your apartment has the same layout as mine, the kitchen should be the next room from the gallery?”

He nods once and picks up his cane, heading ahead of her in the direction of his bedroom.

Upon his return, and with a shirt on, he notices the absence of his brandy from the table. A package with Kooperom's logo sits in its place. His duvet has been folded neatly, resting on one end of the couch. And his neighbor is standing in the center of the living room, a glass of yellowish, creamy liquid in her hand. He’s assuming its the “turmeric milk”.

“So uh..a delivery man came by just as you left.” She gestures to the package and continues, “I’ve put the turmeric jar on your kitchen counter. Just add a spoonful to your milk daily and you'll be back in shape in no time.”

She strides towards him and pushes the glass into his free hand. “Goodnight, Mr. Brekker.”

And just like that..she’s gone. What’s with her swinging by and departing so abruptly?

Kaz locks the door and sits by his folded duvet. Its interesting how she managed to clean this room within the few minutes he was gone.

He unpacks the food, picks up a fork and takes a bite of the meat from the hutspot. Fulfilling as ever. He takes another bite and looks at the glass in his hand. Reluctantly, he brings it to his lips and takes a sip, bracing himself for another weird experience. To his surprise, it tastes alright. And strangely enough, his muscles do ease a bit. Maybe having neighbors isn't all that bad.

Hutspot: a traditional Dutch dish of potatoes, carrots and onions. Sometimes meat is served as a side dish with it.

Turmeric: a spice regularly used by Indians in their cuisine. Its said to be a natural antiseptic.

Turmeric Milk: drinking milk with turmeric is good for health. even gargling with turmeric water (hot) is good for throat.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading this..:3

Read more Soc Fanfics, Headcanons & AUs here

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

#kanej #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #shadow and bone #grishaverse #dirtyhands #the wraith #kaz x inej #kanej fanfiction

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floatingpetals · 4 years

Text

Call of the Mountains || Ch. 7

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)

Warnings: A sprinkle of spice towards the end, other than that nothin’

Word Count: 2700+

Summary: (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)

A/N: Are you ready?! Are you ready?! Are you ready?! (Imagine this in an announcers voice) Cause things are starting to pick uppp!!! Gah I’m so excited about this chapter. FINALLY. Things are happening and I am HERE FOR IT. I hope you all enjoy and as always please reblog and let me know what you think! Even it’s you smashing your face on the keyboard I will adore it!( I swear even though I forget to reply I read all your comments and I love you all so much!!) Ennjjoyy!!!

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Series Masterlist

A deafening boom sent Y/N’s eyes flying open wide, her heart in her throat. She shot up in the bed, gasping in a panic. What the hell was that? She stared around the dark room in wait. A flash came from the window, lighting the room for a split second. Another rumble grew, softer this time and swelled into a louder crash that vibrated the room. Y/N’s stomach dropped. The storm had come.

She shoved the blankets off the bed and ran to the window, throwing open the curtains. A groan bubbled up in her throat. It was dark but she could hear the rain beating against the window, the wind roaring through the trees. No, it can’t! Yes, the clouds hovered above when she fell asleep that night, but she hoped it wouldn’t rain. It couldn’t. Yet here it was. Every bit as treacherous as it looked hanging above.

There was another clap of thunder that caused her to jump with a start. And then she heard the groan of the power shutting off, the light from the alarm clock on the bedside table going black. Shrouded in darkness, Y/N felt her stomach drop. There was an annoyed curse from the hall and a thump before quickly retreating footsteps.

Stumbling over to the door, she grasped around for the handle. Peaking around the corner, she could barely make out anything in the darkness. The occasional lightning strike lit up the hall, showing she was alone. She took in a deep breath and stepped carefully into the hall, running her fingers along the wall. She followed the hall, only stubbing her toes twice and cursing wood baseboards before she came to the living room.

The shades had been pulled up on the windows and showed the room when the lightning struck through the sky. She vaguely made out two large shapes in the kitchen by the back door huddled together. Even over the rain pelting on the rooftops above, she could hear their soft murmurs as the spoke to each other.

“Shit, this is worse than I thought it would be.” Steve, she realized, muttered irritated.

“I’m just annoyed the generator went out.” Bucky exhaled.

“Tony said it was all good the last he checked. The backup generator should have flipped on when the main stopped working. I don’t understand. One of us needs to go check it out.”

Y/N felt around the living room, making sure she didn’t trip over the furniture and made her way quietly across the room. Her eyes had begun to adjust, and she could finally make out Bucky and Steve standing side by side glaring out the windows

“I’m not going out in this!” Bucky bit back sharply.

“What happened?” Y/N called out behind them. The two men nearly leaped out of their skin. Bucky yelped and spun around, while Steve slammed against the windowpane in fright. The twang from the glass pulled a snort from her lips, and Steve shot her an irritated glare. Struggling to stop her giggle at their expense, Y/N bit her lip and apologized. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Jesus, doll.” Bucky clutched his chest and sucked in air. “When the hell did you get there?”

Y/N shrugged. “Not long. Something about a generator?”

Steve, still pressed against the window, grunted.

“Generator went out and now the backup isn’t working. We were deciding who gets to go check it out.”

“In this?” Y/N asked in disbelief. “Absolutely not! We can go without power until this passes.”

There was a growl, intense and furious. Y/N jumped at the sound, the rumble from the growl vibrating in her chest. What in the world? She thought dumbfounded. It sounded like a growl from a dog, an incredibly angry canine. Did they have a dog and she didn’t see it? What made it so angry?

“You’re telling us what to do now?” Steve snarled.

“Steve.” Bucky snapped and stepped between them. “She’s right. We can barely see two feet in front of us as it. The winds are fast enough it could bring down a tree and we’d never know until it’s on top of us. We don’t need to go out until it blows over.”

The rumble came back, not the thunder above, but the rumble from the enraged snarl. Y/N’s breath caught, and her body began to shake in fear. She glanced around the room, trying to find the source of the sound. She didn’t know where it was or what it was, but she knew danger when she heard it. It was so close she could feel the power in the vibrations shaking her bones.

“Steve,” Bucky urged, dropping his voice low. He placed a hand on Steve’s arm. “Stop. You’re scaring her.”

Steve huffed and pushed him aside, stomping around Y/N towards the stairs. She watched his shadowy figure move without hesitation up the stairs out of her sight, taking the dark cloud he wore over him with.

“Sorry about him.” Bucky sighed. “He’s a little… edgy. This was a freak storm.”

Y/N trembled slightly, still shook up over the mysterious noise. Bucky must have seen her tremor, he reached out and gently rubbed her arms. What was Steve’s deal with me? She thought miserably. He’s hated her on-site, and she had no idea why.

“He hates me…” Y/N mumbled. She heard Bucky inhale sharply. He tugged her into a hug and held her tight.

“No, he doesn’t,” He reassured. “Steve’s always been a little careful with new people. He just has to sit and get to know you.”

Y/N really doubted it. She pretty much got the message loud and clear. Steve didn’t like her and most likely wouldn’t be changing his opinion anytime soon. Knowing there was nothing else he could say on the matter, Bucky decided it was best to leave the living room and move from the spot of discomfort. Gently nudging her back to the hall, Bucky held her securely against his side.

“Let’s go back to bed. Like you said, we can’t do anything about the generator till the storm passes. Might as well get some more sleep.” He said softly.

Y/N nodded and leaned against his side. His heat soaked into her body, chasing away the strange chill she felt from earlier. Her breath caught when his impossibly warm hand settled on her hip and pulled her closer. His thin t-shirt did little to hide the pure slab of muscles he was made of and she could feel everything pressed against his side. The smell of a citrus body wash and a smell she could only pinpoint as him hit her nose and warmed her insides.

Her cheeks started burning when her mind began to wander. Nope, nope, nope she thought quickly. She can’t think about that right now. Bucky was just being nice; she didn’t need to go and salivate all over him just cause he was making sure she got to her room safe. Right, focus on that, she thought. He seemed able to cross the large room and miss all the furniture. She chalked it up to him living here long enough to know the layout like the back of his hand.

“Fortunately, we have a new generator that we can hook up if the other two don’t work.”

Y/N snorted. “You have a back up for your back up?”

“Well!” Bucky chuckled. “We wanted to prepare ourselves, and clearly, this is proof enough we aren’t totally crazy on getting the third one.”

“Yeah okay.” Y/N laughed and nodded. “Fair point.”

He stopped at her open door and gave her hip a gentle squeeze. She titled her head towards his face and could see the soft grin on his face as he stared back. The storm still raged on outside, but inside there was a stillness in the air that made Y/N’s stomach flip. It occurred on her that she didn’t feel out uncomfortable in his arms. In fact, she felt almost at home against him. There was a pull to him she couldn’t ignore, welcoming and warm. She hadn’t realized they both were leaning in until she felt his hot breath against her lips.

A flash of lightning light up the hall, briefly giving her a glance of Bucky’s face. Dark grey eyes bore into hers, the lust unmistakable in his stare. It tempted her to close the distance and finally give in to the call. A second later the crash of thunder overhead made Y/N jump, effectively cutting off whatever spell she was under.

Reluctantly, Bucky let her slip from his grip. He fingers drug over her hip, skimming across her skin from her shirt that had ridden up under his arm. It sent a jolt down Y/N’s back. She had to step back, to get away from this. She was stunned how her body reacted and how willing she was to lean in and press her lips against his. From the look in his eyes, Bucky wouldn’t have protested.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Bucky said softly and pulled back. Y/N whispered a soft goodbye, barely audible over the rain on the roof above. She didn’t move until Bucky’s door clicked softly behind him. Jerking out of her stupor, Y/N flung herself into the room and shut the door behind her. She was trying to forget how her legs began to tremble and her insides turned to molten lava at the heated expression he sent her way before shutting his door.

Nope, she thought and threw herself on the bed. There is no chance in hell this could ever happen.

Right?

Bucky shut the door, his grip on the metal handle so tight his knuckles went white. He almost lost control. He never lost control. His wolf, the animal inside him he’s spent years having solid control over was howling at him to go back and take what was his. Mine. Mine. My mate.

His breath caught in his throat. No that couldn’t be right. She wasn’t his mate. There was no way. For one, she was human. And two, she was human! His wolf had to have it wrong. She wasn’t his and never would be.

Nevertheless, even Bucky couldn’t deny that something changed. Maybe it was because she was human that he didn’t notice it before. The pull he felt, the little tug in his heart that drew him to her. It’s why he stopped at the waterfall.

There was something about her smell that intrigued him, and then something about her that caught his attention. If he hadn’t caught her scent in the wind, would she have ever slipped? Maybe she was meant to, and perhaps if he ignored her call, there was no doubt she would be at the bottom of the river. Instead, he listened to the little voice. It led him to save her, spend all day with her, holding her and watching over her as he fretted about her injuries. He felt the tug but that could have been his compassion attracting him. Why is it now that his wolf had it’s full attention on her?

Bucky sank down on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall of glass windows in front of him. He didn’t see the rain pelting the glass or hear the wind howling through the trees. His mind only lingered on her.

Perhaps it was her being so close, sharing the same space as her. She didn’t smell like it yet; she had only been in the guest room for a short time. But it was enough time for her smell to start to twist and merge with his. Even now, he could smell her if he focused. It was soothing and cozy. Like home.

Earlier, she somehow managed to sneak up on them in the kitchen. They didn’t hear her come up, she had to have stumbled through the room in the dark and no doubt should have run into a few things. Even the rain couldn’t mask her stumbling. Only one person could ever fly under their radar, a shifter’s animal would only ever be at ease with the presence of someone that it didn’t see as a threat. He didn’t hear here because his wolf knew already. It hit him like a ton of bricks. Now the reaction he had when he saw her at the waterfall made sense.

Holy shit. She’s my mate.

Falling back against the mattress, Bucky felt all the air rush from his lungs. He found his mate. Somehow, luck decided to go out and find her for him.

He went over the emotions he felt standing at the door with her, holding her against his side. It felt so right like everything had finally fallen into place. He could smell her so strongly, could see each and every breath he took. His eyes were better than hers after all. He could see the dark as well as he could in the day. So he saw it all. The way her breath hitched when he tightened his grip on her waist. How her eyes darkened, and pupils grew when she leaned in. Her smell was growing thickly sweet, like honey waiting to be devoured. He was so close to tasting her, his wolf was howling for a kiss. But the spell broke at the clap of thunder and he needed to run. He had to. She was injured and in a strange location. He couldn’t take advantage of her. He wouldn’t.

Even with his wolf snarling in his mind, Bucky knew he couldn’t act on this. Not when it meant he thought of Steve. Steve showed no signs of her being his mate. And that’s what worried Bucky the most.

They were a set pair. Odd as it was, two alpha’s a pair. In nature, it would never happen or ever work out. However, it worked with them. They grew up together and did everything together, despite being from different packs.

Steve and Bucky’s fathers were both close, they had gone to the same college and met through their classes. Their mothers would always roll their eyes when remembering the two older alphas in school. Steve’s mom had mentioned once it was like seeing twins separated at birth with how similar they were alike personality-wise. It was what made things work between them. The two decided to move to the mountains with their packs but have their own respective territories.

It wasn’t uncommon for them to meet up with pack members from the other. It helped give them more protection, to trade off watching over the younger members. That’s what Steve and Bucky did. Steve was smaller, hadn’t quite gotten into his skin just yet, which meant Bucky made it his business to watch over his friend until he could hold his own in a fight. To them, it just made sense. Of course, like in any pack, there were always those few who didn’t like the notion of another pack being so close to their territories, but over time and after many disputes, they grew to appreciate and recognize the good it brought.

When it came time for Steve and Bucky both to step up and take over for their fathers it only made sense to combine the packs. Steve and Bucky were a pair, one wasn’t far from the other. The packs had time to brace themselves for the strange but obvious decision. It wasn’t until they became one pack that Steve and Bucky recognized what this meant. It hadn’t dawned on either of them until they both stood side by side as Alphas.

While they might not be physically attracted to each other, they realized there was a bond between them. Bucky was attuned to Steve’s emotions and vice versa. If he thought about, he always had been able to feel Steve’s emotions, even as kids. For instance, Bucky could feel the rage and frustration Steve had constantly boiling under the surface. Bucky had been worried about him for a while now.

Going further back, he could still remember with Steve before they-. No. Bucky shook his head cutting that memory off in its track. He wasn’t going to remember that. It was a mistake. A mistake that made Steve how he was now. A mistake that he wished they could take back.

Groaning, Bucky rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. Anything to stop Y/N’s smell from invading his senses. He’d have to keep fighting this pull, to ignore the call, he needed to. He couldn’t regret something if he never acted on it.

Right?

Call Of The Mountains Taglist: (CLOSED!!!)

@sophiabulbu69 / @honeyloverogers / @jessieray98 / @wtfisthiswebsite / @storyteller-le / @itty-bitty-dancer / @steebrogurz / @chook007 / @peculiarlittleprince / @hae-bee / @bunniotomia / @itsevalace / @tanelle83 / @sunmoonandbucky / @elizabeth-marie-moon / @ragnarsdrapa / @lazinessisalliknow / @rippedpiece / @lanabgil / @sister-of-stars / @grimmlytimelord / @opaque-daydream / @vitamingrant / @marvellover1819 / @cobalt-gear / @e1e4n0r5 / @andy-blur / @aactuaaltraash / @kyrah-williams / @flowerchild1216 / @go-river-flows / @yimi-papril / @lanabgil / @samiiicg / @juliae03 / @fantua / @hungoverhellhound /@lille-kattunge / @lbuck121 / @the-olive-alexis-stuff / @caramelunicorns / @toc1985 / @imamom-makingadifference / @smileyishere92 / @nickie-amore / @justmevoldemort / @vitamingrant / @agirlruinedbybands / @womanontheedgeofnothing / @sarcasionmew / @xxlilqueeniexx / @sailorstupidsblog / @dontforgetthepieh / @thewintersoldierswifu / @one-girls-life / @mom—nicole / @capandbuckylvr / @mcdanno71 / @ahappylilybug2019 / @neverforget-whereyoubelong / @whatdoyxumean / @peach-acid / @nickie-amore / @boomshakalaka8 /

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bluewritesao3 · 3 years

Text

The Handyman: New House & Pot Noodles

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Paz Vizsla X Fem!OC

Warnings: Non other than slight embarrassment and talk of car sex (I’m covering all my bases just in case)

Taglist: @maybege, @legally-a-bastard @gallowsjoker

A/N: for new or old readers this has been revamped as an x reader. simple because I’ve been finding it easier to write x readers than i have ocs recently. So please enjoy it and you can come scream at me if you like but don’t forget to reblog cause it helps more than likes do.

Gif credit: @hanyuume

Masterlist | Posted on A03

“Remind me why people move houses?” You whined into the phone wedged between your shoulder and your chin as your co-worker’s laugh sounded through the receiver. “Seriously Jadu. Meetings with the publishing team are more fun.” You scolded pulling another cardboard box marked with ‘kitchen’ in messy sharpie closer to you. You thought there was something wrong with the house or the neighborhood when you originally saw the shockingly low offering price for the house.

With the heavy cardboard tucked under one arm, You singlehandedly heaved it onto the kitchen counter and sliced through all the packaging tape with a box cutter that was wobbly at best. “It's new and sometimes it’s hard, Y/N/N. Remember college-“ Jadu spilt down the phone regaling you with the tale of how he’d walked into their shared accommodation while you were in nothing but a towel. “There's also that midnight romp-“

“I’m going to hang up if you continue.” You scolded as you began to unpack the kitchen box. “But still. Who thinks that car sex is comfortable? I’m sure the searing wheel was trying to merge with my spine.” You joked remembering how the thing had dug into the small of your back and no amount of kissing and touching could distract you from that. Slowly you floated around the small kitchen storing everything away into its proper place, eventually, the house was beginning to look lived in and to like it had sat empty for what the estate agent had described as years.

Glancing at the circular dining table, it had several boxes piled onto it dangerously. You’d chosen to take the majority of moving and reorganising yourself since the other things you were bringing with you was kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and your office. “Still can’t believe you moved out to the middle of nowhere into an almost fully furnished house for dirt-cheap.” Jadu muttered, taking charge of the conversation and expressing his distaste for the house and ‘energy’ around it. You rolled your eyes, and you disposed of the phone on the kitchen counter and hit the loudspeaker button as you tuned to start flattening the cardboard box out while listening to Jadu ramble on about how the photo’s he’d seen of the house were everything but welcoming and that the energy levels were out of ‘whack’.

You muttered quietly to yourself as you went in search of the crumpled water bottle from your bag leaving Jadu to his ramblings even if he believed his concerns were justified. “Have you ever met your neighbours?” Jadu’s recognisably brash tone echoed through the newly packed away kitchen.

You stopped threshold into the kitchen as you took a more than generous gulp from the water bottle, the question had sparked a memory for earlier in the day. “Honestly I’m surprised the neighbourhood welcome committee hasn’t made an appearance.” You chuckled, picking up the phone and placing it on top of the two boxes titled ‘Bedroom’. “How are things at work anyway?” You asked, seeing as you’d now become part of the growing percentage of people working from home.

You listened to Jadu sigh heavily and began talking about how he was missing out on stuff because the company wasn’t allowing him to have as much time off as he used to but given that he worked with a very picky publishing team then it was expected that his workload was almost never-ending. “I mean someone in publishing is giving me a deadline for editing a manuscript that doesn’t belong to one of their clients. Do you see my issue here?” Jadu complained, sounding as if he was passing through the seven stages of grief and got stuck somewhere between bargaining and anger.

You hummed quietly as you ascended the stairs of the old house with a cardboard box under your arm and the other waiting at the bottom of the stairs for when you made the next trip. “Is it Nyla? She’s department head and might be very aware of how ‘quickly’ you zoom through stuff.” You smirked hearing the hefty huff from Jadu on the other end of the phone, Jadu had a pension for leaving some projects till the last minute and then pushing them onto someone else days before the deadline. “Speak of the devil…” Jadu began and added a hurried ‘I gotta go’ before he hung up the phone. Shaking your head, you laughed a little as you stood in the doorway to your bedroom. Whoever lived there previously had removed the door and hadn’t bothered to replace it. The room was sparsely decorated, missing a door and the pastel-painted walls made you want to throw something but at least the mattress looked like it didn’t have any funky-looking stains or weird smells and the rest of the furniture was intact.

“I have to get a bedroom door.” You breathed, settling on the mattress with the box next to you as you fell backwards and released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “I have to get food too.” You lamented the idea of your fridge being empty then takeaway sounded good, but you didn’t know what the local one was. “Guess I need to go to the store.” You huffed checking the time on your phone trying to decide if it’s worth going food shopping.

You revealed in the fact that her local grocery store wasn’t a long trek into town, the small grocery store felt like a glowing beacon in the afternoon of the quiet town. Stepping through the automated door, you immediately hesitated not knowing where anything was and almost scolded yourself for thinking that the store's layout was the same as the ones back home. Grabbing a basket, you set off on a small journey looking for anything that looked like it took the least amount of effort and time.

With time you came to know the store and tried to memorise the layout in case you’d need to make another trip during the week. You wandered through the aisles glancing at almost every shelf looking for the next thing on your list of foodie wants. “There you are,” You muttered as you settled your gaze on multiple packages of hard candy, heart stones, they were lightly spiced with cinnamon and reminded you of home and your grandparents, when they used to sneak you a packet every time they visited. “Wasn’t sure if I’d ever find you here.” You whispered to the packs of candy before hucking a total of six of the fairly small packets into the basket along with the pot noodles.

Pulling yourself away from the shelves you continued down the aisle and tried to mentally tally up the contents of your basket before colliding with something solid, sending you back a few steps. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” You yelped, almost giving yourself whiplash as you took in the tall mountain of a guy you’d bumped into. “Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there.” You apologised smiling brightly, as you readjusted your grip on the basket. The washed-out dark blue sweatshirt with a faded with a washed-out college emblem was the first thing that caught your attention simply because it took up most of your vision then it was the sheer size of the guy, he was almost as tall as he was wide or as your grandmother would have put it, he was built to last.

“You alright?” He asked, looking slightly panicked with a large hand extended almost like he was ready to catch her as if she was going to fall. You nodded, muttering your apologies and glanced over your shoulder at the elderly woman at the other end of the aisle seemingly waiting for them both to move. “No harm done.” He smiled and you had to almost choke on the almost inhuman noises trying to escape you. In your head, you were muttering about how downright adorable the guy’s smile was and how stupid you were for saying you didn’t see him there. He’s probably tall enough to change your lightbulbs without a ladder. “Dude how tall are you?” You rushed out before you could grab the words and push them through a verbal processor. Hearing a bassy chuckle rumble out of the man and you joined in almost embarrassed and awkwardly, feeling a warmth radiating from your cheeks and ears. “I’m sorry that’s weird. I’ll be going now.” You motioned as she stepped to the side and the tall guy followed, stepping in front of her again, you stepped to the right and he almost panicked he swapped sides and you unconsciously followed. They both dissolved into a side-to-side step dance almost everyone did at least once in their life.

Ducking down trying to hide the slight flush warming your skin as you glanced over your shoulder at the elderly woman whose shoulders were quietly quacking as she muttered to the teenage boy holding up the seemingly overflowing basket in both hands. “Attracted an audience, haven't we?” The tall guy observed, and you tossed a half-hearted glare at him as you tried to almost disappear into the shelves. “I’m 6’5 by the way.” He muttered sliding past you and went on his way deeper into the relatively small grocery store.

Almost like you were on autopilot, you wandered back towards the front of the grocery store to pay for your questionable food shopping. You attempted to make small talk with the young 17-year-old pottering about behind the counter, but it wasn’t returned and you marked it up to being wary of newcomers. “Thank you. Have a nice night.” You thanked lifting the plastic bag off of the counter and began the journey home.

“I am so fucking stupid,” You half yelled, and half sang into the silence of your entry hall. “How is that the first thing I say to someone.” You continued tossing your keys on the smallish storage cabinet to your left knowing the Jadu would tease you with the knowledge for eras to some. Muttering to yourself and wandered back into your barely lived-in kitchen and slammed the nondescript shopping bag on the counter and began making one of the pot noodles and tossing the rest of them into the cupboard above your head.

Still feeling the heat of your embarrassment you deflated slightly and leaned against the counter. “Dude how tall are you?” You question yourself again with a hint of disbelief even though you were sure that the guy's hands could easily cover your face. Robotically, you grabbed the kettle and began making your pot noodle, you‘d barely gotten the fork in your mouth when a soft knocking sounded against your front door. “Who in the hell.” You muttered skittering towards your front door leaving the pot noodle on the counter, the small strip of frosted glass on either side of your front door did little to give you an idea of who was standing on the porch.

Pulling open the door, you stood in your socks searching an empty porch for who' knocked on your door. Already you thought the neighbourhood’s kids were playing tricks on you. Moving to step on to the porch almost kicking into something warm and injuring yourself. You glanced down at the warmth on your toes, a Tupperware container sat close to your front door you were surprised that you hadn’t put her foot in it when she stepped out the door. “Um hello?” you greeted the container sceptically as she crouched down to collect it. “Thank you f-for the soup?” You thanked and questioned the container as you curiously tilted the container from side to side watching the soupy liquid inside move with your movements.

As you stepped back into your house you wondered if whatever was in the container would keep till tomorrow. Heading back into the kitchen you placed the container on the counter and unfolded the piece of paper taped to the side of it.

‘Hi, I live across the street and since you’re new here. And I guessed your fridge was probably empty, so I made a little extra broth and packed it up for you. Don’t worry it’ll keep till tomorrow just put it on the stove on medium heat for 20 minutes or in the microwave for the same. Welcome to the neighbourhood - Omera’ The note read, and you smiled at the kindness of Omera, a woman you’d yet to put a face to, while stuffing another fork full of pot noodle into your mouth, you tucked the note back into its original place and stored the container of broth away in her empty fridge.

You released a huff as you tried to make yourself taller to reach the bathroom windows handle, the steam from your most recent shower was so dense that it just didn’t want to dissipate and with a tight grip on the counter, you doubled your efforts and finally got the window open. With pride in your step, you wandered into your new bedroom with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as a familiar ring tone pierced the quiet of your bedroom. Without looking, you answered the phone and set it on loudspeaker, “Hello, you're on loudspeaker.” You garbled out as you rinsed your mouth out and placed your toothbrush by the sink. “Do you know how many times I’ve called you!” Your mom yelled through the phone and you visibly cringed at the sharpness in your mother’s tone, the woman was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be. “Anything could have happened. Are you sure the neighbourhood’s safe enough?” Your mother rattled on worrying about you even though you were in your 30’s with a stable income and living alone.

Smiling at the sentiment you grabbed your phone and climbed into the bed. “I’m fine Mom. The neighbourhood seems safe enough. I mean aren’t the estate agents legally obligated to tell me if it wasn’t.” You muttered as you settled crossed legged at the head of the bed, the weirdly comfortably headboard cushioned your back as you leaned back into it and the pillows to get comfortable. “What’ve I missed first? Is Dad still looking for work?” You asked as you placed the phone on the pillow next to you, warmth filled you as you silently listened to your mom explain how another nameless auntie had a baby, another cousin getting engaged and how your step-dad, Lanth; a man who’d worked the majority of his life, still refuse to take his retirement and you didn’t think he’d ever actually take it at this point.

“You know how Lanth is. Honestly, I’m starting to think I married a 20-year-old in an old man’s body.” Your mom explained you smiled at the warmth you heard in your mom's voice and when you’d originally met Lanth you’d been sceptical as every teenager was of their parent's new boyfriends or girlfriends. “But enough about us. What about you? Hm. How’s the new house?” Your mom asked, sounding as eager as you had when you’d originally agreed to drive out to meet the estate agent and view the house.

Reaching behind you to prop up the pillows a little and pull the clean sheets over yourself, you sighed a little, feeling a wave of tiredness trying to overtake your body. “Nevarro’s housing market hasn’t inflated like the rest of the states but honestly I’ve been waiting for someone to tell me that it's haunted or in a bad neighbourhood.” You stated relishing in the soft fresh scent of your sheets in comparison to the musty old smell the other ones had. Your mom's voice was muffled on the other side of the phone as if she was talking to someone or left the TV on a little too loud. “The pastel bedroom walls make me want to throw something...but what are you whispering about?” You questioned yawning halfway through the sentence as you slowly began to settle down for the night.

On the other end of the phone, your mom sighed heavily, and it was the tell-tale sign that usually came before news that you wasn’t going to like. “Lanth said there's a Mandalorian settlement out that way and that you might want to be careful.” Your mom explained, concerned and a little off as if she was relaying what was being said to her. You hummed in agreement; you knew not all of Lanth’s people were the same, but they were best approached with caution just in case. “Anyway, I’ll let you go. Goodnight. Love you baby.”

“Goodnight. Love you both.” You smiled into your pillow as you heard the baritone of Lanth through the phone telling her to sleep well and to be careful. You watched the screen blink a few times telling you that your mom had hung up the phone, sleep tugged at you as you pulled the sheets up under your chin and glanced around the bedroom one final time to centre yourself. “I still have to get a door.” You muttered staring at the dark abyss of the hallway before rolling over and trying to ignore the unsettling inky darkness but with the bedside lamp on you slowly began to drift off into a slight sleep.

#The Handyman #handyman!paz #blue writes #paz vizsla #paz vizla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla x reader

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fallstreakfeathers · 4 years

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[Don’t Look Down - chapter ??? scene WIP, CH is pretty far off so I thought it’d be good to get some feedback on it] Warnings: Panic attack, violence, CH 16 spoilers, Belphie is a demon and acted like it [After being left temporarily blind in a classroom accident, Kita (begrudgingly) is put under the care of Belphegor as the other brothers seek out ingredients to an antidote. After an already stressful day of being left for her thoughts to fester, Belphegor, although trying to help, unintentionally pushes her over the edge.]

Two gentle knocks echoed in the room and she flinched at the voice invading the area. "Kita? It's Belphie." Wonderful, she sniffed, rubbing her burning eyes and trying to dry the wetness on her cheeks. "I have food and water," Belphegor called. "Congratulations?" Kita said, not caring if he actually heard or not, "enjoy your meal." An exasperated sigh alerted her that yes, she had indeed been heard. Maybe it was just a tired one. She could never tell. "It's for you." The door handle wobbled once, twice, and then opened. Kita tensed. Please... "You haven't eaten or drank anything since this morning, right?" Belphegor said, "it's pretty late. I thought you must be getting hungry." "I'm not," she lied stubbornly. Murderer. Manipulator. "It's not good to sleep on an empty stomach," he insisted. Whether or not that was true or just a weak attempt to trick her into eating whatever food he'd cooked (and surely poisoned) was unknown to her. She didn’t care. There was no way she was going to eat anything he gave her. “Not. Hungry.” The clatter of a bowl and cutlery on the table let her know just how close the demon was. She shifted uncomfortably. The food smelled surprisingly appetizing- like cream and salt and various Devildom spices. It was warm and her belly grumbled lowly. “Your stomach disagrees,” Belphegor said. She didn’t have to see to know the sloth demon was smirking. Her hand clenched, dearly missing the cool metal that used to press against her skin. Why hadn’t Agaros fixed the damn thing already? “What’ve you been doing all day?” the demon tried. Rather chatty today, aren’t you? “Nothing,” she said shortly, “I’m blind. Not like I can just up and do whatever I want.” Right. She was blind.

Her breathing quickened as she realized just how defenseless she was. There was nothing to save her from him anymore. Not that there had been much to begin with, but now she lacked even the comfort of her own vision. She really was just a weak and stupid human, a lamb in a den of wolves, and when Belphegor slaughtered her again she was sure Barbatos would simply transfer another ‘Kita’ from any selection of potential timelines. God have mercy on the next poor girl’s soul. But perhaps that Kita would simply take things in a stride instead of cowering like a beaten dog. It didn't matter, she supposed. She didn’t matter. Nothing she did mattered. She was replaceable, and she would be substituted again and again, as many times as it would take for the damn program to succeed. Nobody would help her when Belphegor inevitably decided he was done toying with her. A quiet whimper escaped her and she cursed herself. How dare she show weakness in front of this creature? Monster. Demon. (Rage. He was murder and fear, and all cold and slippery creatures hiding in the depth of darkness. His touch was death. A feral growl echoed in her ear. ) "Kita? Are you okay?" Belphegor’s soft, even voice interrupted her thoughts as sharply as the claws he'd used to lacerate her flesh. (Teal knives dipping against her bone, leaving painful bloody trails in their wake.) Her unseeing eyes darted back and forth as she imagined the layout of the bedroom. Where could she hide that he wouldn’t follow? “Hey," he said slowly, like he was speaking to a frightened animal, “calm down, alright?” He stepped lightly but the sound of his footfall was thunderous in the quiet room as he approached the bed. He was close enough for her to smell his cologne. It hadn’t changed. No, no, no. Get away! “You need to breathe. Everything’s okay.” (A rough, pointed tongue against her wounds, lapping the deep crimson that flowed over the angry red flesh.) Belphegor reached to place his hand on her shaking back. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His hand touched her shoulder, and (and he was grasping her neck as he raised her into the air, laughing wildly and tail whipping like a storm.) "Kita, breathe!" She couldn't. How could she breathe with his hands around her throat? Why would he tease her like that? Isn't killing her enough? ("Worthless little bitch." His grip tightened, and his tail curled around her leg to crush bone.) Both his hands lay on her now as he tried to calm her, rubbing soothing circles onto her skin as she whimpered and flinched away, curling into a tight ball against the corner of the bed. "You're safe!" His voice insisted, "everything's okay. You're safe." (A stinging, throbbing pain in her head and back as she was thrown against the broken mirror. Red dripped into her eyes, clouding her sight even as black spots danced across her vision. The juniper and vanilla scents of his cologne mixed with the stink of iron and copper. Safe? What an awful joke.) "Please," Belphegor said, voice tense with uncertainty. ("Oh, how I wish you could see your face," the demon crooned in her ear, "twisted in agony…so pretty. Does it hurt to be betrayed?" Please, what? Everything hurt. She felt the press of his clothes and the strength of his muscles as pressed against her, grinding his knee against her shattered leg. She cried out against his shoulder, and he laughed. "You humans are just so, so fucking stupid." She wept in agony and anger as he dug his clawed hands into her stomach. She tried to move, to crawl away from the creature assaulting her. Her arms gave out under her weight. She couldn’t fight anymore. The little cowbell on his back jingled, echoing in the small room as he moved.) Why? She… she loved him. She helped him. She reunited him with his brothers. So, why? Why was he hurting her? ("I hate you," the demon growled, "I hate your kind!" Stop! She stared forward, numb and unmoving. "I can't wait to see the look on my brothers faces when they see I've finally rid this place of your filth," the monster cackled as he slammed her against the attic door. ) "Please!" Belphegor pleaded. Why was he still killing her, even now? Why is he still hurting her? Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? “Stop hurting me!” she moaned as she dug her hands in her hair, curling tighter on herself. “I’m not!” he said ,”and I won’t. But you’ve got to breathe, okay? You have to calm down.” The demon attempted to bring her shaking form closer, gently tugging her towards his chest, only to stall as she swung her fist and hit him with a crack before bolting off the bed. “Shit! No!” Belphegor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him again as she attempted to escape. She screamed, howling against the world, sobbing and blindly biting whatever part of him she could find as he clutched her closely to his chest. “Don’t run,” he grunted as if it’d make a difference, “you'll hurt yourself.” Holding her felt much more difficult than he knew it should've been as she thrashed against him. He frowned as he felt her teeth around his wrist again, biting with enough force that would’ve broken any human’s bone. As for a demon, the bruising would be gone before night. Belphegor sighed and his hand glowed with a soft violet aura as he placed it over her forehead, whispering gentle promises against her ear, and she fought harder as a sudden warmth flooded her senses. The demon gripped her tighter, then slowly followed her to her knees as her frantic kicking and crying ebbed into quiet hiccups and an occasional twitch of her fingers. Belphegor lay her on the carpet before leaning against the wooden bedframe with a tired huff. How could one little human be so exhausting?

#obey me #obey me fanfic #dont look down #arkwrites #obey me belphegor #obey me oc #I originally wrote the attic flashbacks even worse but decided to tone it down because i still want it to be readable #angst #bells really was just trying to help lmao #poor guy #not that its entirely undeserved

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veridium · 5 years

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fall to pieces

happy Sunday! What better way to end the weekend than with some fresh college au? because I am a merciful mistrxss, I haven’t made this serving entirely with salt (I know, I know, promises, promises). but hey I entitled it after an avril lavigne song, so it can’t be that bad, right?

enjoy!

fic masterpost // previous episode

Sending Ellinor off to catch prince charming does wonders, momentarily, for olivia’s mood. It makes her lose sight of her own dysfunctional state of affairs. While her comrade showers she takes stock of all her surroundings, and the distraction soon fades. Her outfit cast aside on her desk chair, heels half-assed tossed to the floor by the shoe rack. At least she managed to wash her face and take out all the bobby pins, or so she thinks. Running her fingers through her hair, she finds two hanging on by a thread.

A few minutes later and she’s out of her pajamas and into a towel of her own, shower-bound. Her phone’s charged up but still plugged in; she’s checked it every time she wakes up from her poor sleep and then some, but still no messages from Cassandra and the afternoon is ticking away. Ellinor comes around the corner as she is leaving her doorway, looking all fresh and clean but face full of dread.

They face each other one last time before parting ways to clean up their messes. For some reason, they’ve been having to do that a lot lately. Head-to-head, the frown with dread and solidarity in the air, Ellinor dripping and smelling of old spice and some flowery stuff she definitely stole from Olivia after saying she thought it stunk, but lied. And likely will still lie about having “borrowed” it.

“Ready?” Ellinor asks, point blank.

Olivia nods, but then a whimper escapes her throat. “Y-yeah.”

“Not good enough, soldier. I said are we ready?”

“...Yeah!”

They stare again. Ellinor’s own whimpiness comes through in the souring of her frown and roll of her eyes. They both groan, Olivia knocking her head back as they pass each other at last.

“I’m so--”

“--Fucking tired, shit.”

“Good luck, don’t scare him!”

“Don’t worry, he already is.”

A door shuts, and Olivia slinks into the showers. The answer wasn’t the most hopeful, but she prays that Ellinor will keep up her record of fixing things that go astray. So far she’s done good, and Cullen seems like -- oh who is she kidding, he is the type to forgive if the intentions were harmless. While she hangs her towel it occurs to her she’s having one more of those sympathetic thoughts of him, and she rubs her face almost raw and lets the hot water consume her.

At least Ellinor has a plan of action, and some control over how to proceed. The shit ball is in her shit court. Olivia can’t say the same, and though she isn’t mad, it certainly leaves little for her to do but wait and worry. Cassandra isn’t a faker -- if she was angry or displeased with the way she was treated, Olivia would know. The way she looked when she shut the car door said anything but outraged. Sad, though...it did say sad. Running her hands through her hair as it rinses, Olivia can’t help but close her eyes as if it’ll help her not see the image in her mind.

By the time she emerges and returns to her dorm room Ellinor is gone, though there is a half-bent sticky note left on her door above the handle. It has a hastily-written heart on it, and a U underneath. Brief but much needed, it finds a home on her desk beside all the other ones she’s kept over the course of their friendship. Out of the corner of her eye she notices the note she pinned from Cassandra, who’s penmanship puts all others to shame, even her own.

Standing there, dripping and looking at a piece of paper as if it’s the fucking Grand Canyon or something. She always daydreamed about having some romantic youth. Dumbass, she calls herself as she shoves the closet door open and begins sifting through. What to wear? A brown paper bag and some sandals, maybe? It’s not like she’ll have anyone to impress, and if she did, the time to do it was last night. All her impress-juice had been dumped onto that party, and for what: so she could be a primadonna dick.

Eventually she pulls on some black denim skinny jeans and a grey, v-neck long-sleeve. She still has homework to do, and if she can drag her ass to the library or some other studious place, she can salvage her day and distract herself at the same time. Perfect. Fifteen minutes later she has packed her backpack, books, phone charger and all, and heads out, not looking back. She’s out on the lawn out front by the dorms, walking in her black sneakers with full commitment, when she notices a familiar purple-trimmed bike in the parking lot across the way. One that definitely has leftover residue of where a student’s parking sticker used to be.

“Fuck, shit,” she mutters. Theia.

Instantly she dives into one of the less-direct pavement paths. So much for cutting through quad and the Union building. Josie lives on-campus, but not close. Maybe if she’s there to stop by and make sure she got back safe, or something, she won’t have to worry about running into her. The last thing she needs is to deal with her before she even has a chance at seeing Cassandra. Arms folded to her chest, she hunches as she walks. It’s too late and cloudy to put sunglasses on without looking sketchy or hungover. Fuck, I wish I was hungover.

Suddenly, her phone goes off with the call ring. How it got switched off from silent mode is anyone’s guess. Olivia nearly drops dead to the ground like she’s avoiding enemy fire, and dashes for the nearest tree thick enough to hide behind. She digs through the first two pockets of her back where she usually tosses the damned thing, but it’s not until the last pocket of course that she finds it. Just as she’s about to press ignore, she sees Cassandra’s name on the caller ID.

OF FUCKING COURSE SHE HAS TO CALL WHEN I AM TRY--

“H-hello?” she whispers and squeaks at the same time, somehow, sliding the phone to her ear.

Without background noise, Cassandra’s tone comes in clear. “Hey, you okay?”

She slides down against the tree until she’s doing a half-assed version of one of those wall-sits she does at the gym when she hates herself and her glutes. Her bag goes to the grass. As wood chips off the bark and all the other sounds she’s certainly making come out loud and unmistakably concerning, she lies:

“Oh yeah! I’m fine, just--” she brushes her hair that’s collected in her face sans ponytail. “Just got out the door.”

“Oh. Gotcha. So are you in the middle of something, then?”

“Uh, um, yeah and no?”

“...”

“I was just...ow, fuck!” a shard of wood sticks her right in the ass cheek and she bounces off the tree, spinning around to face it like a foe.

“Olivia? You sure you’re okay?”

“Argh--yeah! I just...my calculator in my...pocket, it, er, stuck me in the ribs--”

“...you own a calculator?”

Why the hell did I say calculator? Why couldn’t I -- agh, fuck. “Yes, for just in case I...you know, um, I’m a little tired, so bare with me. I’m not good with words. You okay? D-did you go to…”

“--Church? Yes, I did.” There’s sounds of zippers and voices. “We just got done with practice, I’m at the fields still. I was wondering if you wanted…”

“Yes!”

“...to…”

“Ye--I mean, um, ahem,” she clears her throat, looking around for anyone who could be playing witness to her heinously embarrassing attempt to fit into the scenery. Sunday afternoons are quiet on campus, thank goodness. “I mean, you were saying?”

“Ahah, I meant...um, hold on a sec,” she mutters something away from the phone mic, vaguely authoritative. Then, a “no,” which is the only thing Olivia can tell for sure. “Uh, sorry, you still there?”

She’s started pacing. So much for not being seen. “Yeah!”

“Cool. I was...I mean...oh, hey, Ellinor is here?”

Get to the point Cassandra, please, please, please say you wanna -- “Oh! Yeah! Uh,” she takes a breath that’s about as useful for her nerves as a straight chug of mountain dew, “she said something about meeting Cullen after practice.”

“I...see.” She sounds concerned and slightly distracted. “I hope everything’s okay. This morning I ate a breakfast that I don’t think was...well, intended for me.”

Yikes. Time to pretend she had no idea, like she didn’t read the texts or get on Ellinor’s case about being a brunch-buster. “Oh, shit…” she lingers a few syllables on the cuss word, for added authenticity. “That sounds...um, rough.”

“Uh huh…” Cassandra’s talking like she’s walking, her breath pace changing. If she’s skeptical, Olivia can’t fully tell. “Well, anyways, has your day gone okay?”

God dammit, no, ask what you wanted to ask! “It’s gone good. Slow and steady, ya know. I’m just...swimmin,’ ahah.”

“You keep forgetting you’re bad liar, you know.”

Butterflies. Butterflies and regret and bubbles and all the weird feelings that can happen in someone’s gut without them feeling like they need hospitalization. “Uh…” She stops when she hears the sound of a car trunk opening through the phone.

“I’m just tired, I’ve been reading a lot, Cass,” she lets the frustration seep through even in her lying, and immediately regrets it. Rubbing the back of her neck, she looks off into the greenery and picturesque layout of buildings and their unlit windows and could already think of a billion other ways she could have answered. “I’m...I mean--”

“Oh, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Um, hold on again, sorry.” Cassandra lets out a breath, then the sound of a car door, and then jingling. “Cullen and I drove to practice thinking we’d go get some ice cream or something afterwards, but it appears plans have changed.”

“So you have to drive his car again?”

“Well, I don’t have to, I just saw him and Ellinor walking off the field and assumed that’s how he’s gonna get back, and this lot isn’t for overnight parking.”

This conversation is going nowhere. Maybe it shouldn’t go anywhere. She isn’t exactly in the shape or mind to be perfectly sympathetic and patient, as evidenced by the way she’s damn-near vibrating with anxiety. Maybe what she wanted from the day wasn’t fair to ask, and seeing her would only do more harm than good.

“So,” Cassandra continues, and the ignition goes off. “I know you’ve been studying, but would you be willing to be my plan B companion for ice cream?”

“Sure! Yeah! No, I’ll meet you at the Blue lot by the gym?” Fuck, well, there went that constructive thought.

“Cool, I’ll be there in a couple minutes max.”

“Cool!”

They hang up, and as soon as she hits the red button Olivia groans and tossed her head back, hands on her eyes to block out the hopeful sight of the day and the birds chirping and all that nonsense. Surely at this point someone is filming her from a window to post it on one of those college humor facebook pages, captioning it “tfw your mom and dad call saying they got your mastercard bank statement.” In all actuality the caption should be “tfw you dare to be bisexual and in public at the same time.”

She does as she promises, though, and picks up her God forsaken backpack and marches her way through the shortcut path to the lot. With each step she tries to forget the guilt and nerves she has, the social anxiety she has in response to Cassandra acting like everything is fine. Is everything fine? Is this her way of broaching the talk they planned to have? Or is this some way to get Olivia to forget it and go back to being blissfully drowning in the honeymoon phase? Fuck, if their honeymoon phase in danger of a premature death? Are they in danger of premature death? How--

Before she knows it and can center herself, she’s on the curb and Cassandra is pulling up in that same black care she dropped her off in. The Ruther...Rutherf--...

She gets in, puzzled and stairing straight ahead. Without a word.

Cassandra stares, both hands at the wheel. “...Hey?”

“Rutherf...dammit, I’ve already said that one…”

“What?”

“Ruther...Rutherferrari? That’s dumb. No…” she folds her arms once she has her seatbelt on. “Fucking...dammit.”

“Are you...are you trying to come up with a name for the car?”

Olivia looks over at long last, and if she was already at a loss for thought, the look of Cassandra still sweaty and in her soccer jersey and shorts makes her a lost cause. Her mouth goes agape, though she’s still pouting. “Uhm, no!”

“You so are.” Cassandra grins, before looking up in the mirror. Someone’s pulling up behind them, so she puts it in gear and goes forward. Her eyes flash back onto her, checking that she did in fact put on her seatbelt. She’s so careful.

“I just can’t believe there’s only one car-related word that starts with an F! It can’t just be Ford!”

“You said it yourself, Ruther…” she stops and bites back a chuckle. “Rutherferrari.”

“See! It’s stupid! Even you think so. There has to be a better one…” She continues her stubborn search and looks out the passenger window as campus passes by at the very legal 15 mph pace. Just beyond a row of hills, the soccer fields come into view, empty. No sign of Ellinor or Cullen. Checking her phone, there are no messages or missed calls. Whatever is happening between them, it’s going somewhat well?

“Rutherfour-wheel-drive.”

Olivia blinks, her head jerking forward. “W-what?” She looks over and sees Cassandra smiling.

“Ruther-four-wheel-drive,” she repeats, and they pull out of the campus entrance.

Olivia rolls her lips shut and raises a brow. She’s quiet so long Cassandra has to look over, concerned. “What?” she asks as they stop at a red light.

“I...I just…”

“Is that a bad one?”

“No, I just...I never thought I could be so proud of someone in my entire life,” she says with a fake weepy voice, her hand laying flat on her chest like she’s accepting a Miss America award. “My God, no, I can’t cry, my lashes!”

“Ugh, smartass!” Cassandra fake-sneers, and presses the gas pedal. They’re on the move again, and while Olivia’s laughing, she turns up the radio a little bit. It’s hooked up to her phone via aux, playing some acoustic cover. Finally Olivia settles down and lays her head back against the headrest, a satisfied grin on her face.

“I’m sorry, it was really good, babe.”

Cassandra doesn’t respond sharply like she does. It gives Olivia time to realize, fuck, she’s called her babe. It rolls off her tongue like honey she’s been parched of all day, all week, all along. Still it’s clumsy as hell. How can something be both those things? If she plays cool, though, maybe it’ll be cool. Maybe it’ll be fine. Maybe --

“Uh, I mean...um…” well, so much for playing cool.

Cassandra smirks as they pull into a parking lot behind the ice cream shop. She’s chosen the one downtown, a small little place, but good stuff. She doesn’t make any comment, or refusal. Just smirks. It’s almost worse than if she started cleverly chiding her for it, or egging her on. Worse in that it’s...it’s welcoming. Welcoming and right. Olivia doesn’t have the guts to try more of her shitty luck at self-expression, so she’s quiet but polite as they get out of the car and walk into the place. It’s all white and bright, like a quintessential ice creamery, with colorfully decorated chalkboards lining the walls. They order, but not before Olivia samples three different flavors, no less than that -- she has to be thorough, after all. Cassandra never frowns or shows distaste for it, though, and soon they’re walking out with two waffle cones, Cassandra’s of rocky road, and Olivia’s caramel fudge ripple.

“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” Cassandra recommends as they exit, Olivia already taking the right towards the parking lot. She stops and hesitates, looking down the straight, idyllic downtown street she’s gesturing towards.

“Oh...uh, you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I can drive with this,” Cassandra shrugs, holding her ice cream. It’s all neat, while Olivia is already fending off dripping around the sides. Classic.

“Oh. Okay. Um, sure! I mean,” Olivia starts walking with her, slow and playful in her swinging step, “it’s your reputation on the line, you being in public all gross and sweaty.”

“Is it?” Cassandra joins her, and without warning leans up against her, rubbing her shoulder and arm against Olivia and her freshly showered and clean self.

“Cassandra Penta...agh!” She shrieks and lurches away, but can’t help but laugh. Her ice cream skews, but she manages to keep it level with the ground. Precious, precious ice cream.

Cassandra laughs, and goes back to licking her own scoops. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Uh huh,” Olivia huffs, switching hands. “Don’t try to assassinate my cone. I will make you reimburse me.”

They round the corner, where a public courtyard with several tables and sets of chairs are strewn about, bordered by stone plots of greenery and fern bushes, withering and skinny in the fall weather. There’s only one other middle-aged couple on the other side with a small dog. Above them, the sky is turning dark, but not quite enough for the street lamps to turn on.

“Wanna sit?” Olivia asks, pointing to one of the tables. “I need to work on this cone, it’s falling apart.”

“Sure,” Cassandra says simply, and they make their way over. Sitting across from each other, Olivia can look at her more discreetly while she salvages what she can of her pitiful cone. Taking her first bit into it, she notices Cassandra lean back comfortably, knees spread and free arm tucked under her chest and elbow. She looks like nothing ever happened. What could she have done to bounce back so quickly?

“So…” Olivia’s curiosity slips onto her mouth. “You...have a good day?”

“Me? Yes, I did.” Cassandra wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb. I love it when she does that. “Most of it has been spent with Cullen, since we went from Church to home and then to practice. I barely had time to do any homework.”

“I bet.” She takes another crunchy bite of her cone as it is vanishing. “And...and the rest of your night last night?”

Cassandra takes a break from eating, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. I just went home and relaxed, went to bed.”

“Cool. Same.” After I spent a half hour debating whether or not to drive to the Taco Bell down the road and cry into a crunch wrap, or find Ellinor wherever she was and steal her back from Cullen, or grab my eyebrow tweezers and go challenge Theia to a gay duel for honor, or --

“I can see that look.”

Olivia blinks, shakes her head, and her cone slightly cracks beneath her grip. Its audible cringe only worsens the odds for her denial. “W-what look?”

Cassandra takes a bite of her ice cream and licks her lips, her eyes intently on Olivia in a way that makes her want to melt faster than caramel fudge ripple in the mojave desert under a magnifying glass. She gulps, and her gaze locks on what remains of her cone as she rotates it around.

“Olivia.”

“I...fuck, this thing sucks at staying together, my cone is…”

“Olivia.” That time, Cassandra moves her hand from her lap to Olivia’s. She places it just above her knee. She’s down for the count when she does that. She lowers her cone grip and looks at her, really looks at her, and the failed facade dissolves.

“Cass...I…”

“I know, I--”

“No, you don’t. Just let me say this, okay?”

She doesn’t say it angrily, but with just enough assertiveness to where Cassandra removes her hand and straightens up. Her cone is gone, somehow; Olivia must have lost track of her eating it in her spinning thoughts. She rolls the napkin and puts it on the round table in front of them. Meanwhile, Olivia takes a deep breath, and looks away towards the garden growth.

“I meant what I said last night. I am sorry I handled everything the way I did. I should have been more transparent with what I was getting you into; Ellinor and I have spent so much time partying and...and doing things just us, so it’s not always clear to me that what we do can be overwhelming to someone else.” She pauses to look at her, and Cassandra’s eyes are lowered while she listens. It helps to not have her staring at her. “I just...I wish you would have told me, but I understand why you didn’t.”

“That is my fault. Liv, I…” she runs her hand through her hair, and it glistens and sticks down to her head. “I can’t talk about all of it tonight, and I’m sorry. I might have been a bit selfish in asking you to come with me. I just wanted to see you, to know for sure that everything was okay. I know that’s perhaps...not helping.”

No, probably not. On the other hand, Cassandra admitting to doing things selfishly and without logic is endearing. To know Olivia has that much sway, now, to where she would seek out her company even though the order of things would advise otherwise...that’s not lost on her. For that, Olivia’s posture softens, and she tosses her napkin on the table where it lands next to hers.

“I think we both need a breath. Just for a bit.”

Cassandra’s soft grin fades, but she nods. “I know.”

“I know you play strong, Cass, but I don’t want you to do it moreso for me. If you’re stressed, or...or triggered, then…”

“I have my strategies, I don’t just bluff. When I’ve had some more time I will explain everything. But if you are really worried, then…”

They are both treading carefully, and somewhat cluelessly. Even so, there’s something to be appreciated about it. Olivia’s phone buzzing breaks the ongoing pressure, but she doesn’t check to see what the notification is. No, nothing’s going to divert her from this, as tired as she may be.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you be my arm candy to any parties in the near future,” Olivia grins as a piecemeal offering, one which Cassandra matches.

“Oh? Was I not the life of the party?”

Olivia snorts. “You were of mine. Jesus Ch--” a look, and she winces and looks away. “I mean, what the HELL-icopter...gosh, heck, gee--”

“Oh enough,” Cassandra chuckles softly, and rises to her feet. When she does she holds out her hand, and leans toward her like a polite escort. “We have some more walking to do.”

“Er, but you’ve finished your ice cream?” she grips her chair readily, though she eyes her.

Cassandra shakes her head, smile broadening. “Just a couple blocks more, if you’ll indulge me just this once.”

When you talk like that I can never refuse. Olivia rolls her eyes, kidding, of course, but she stands up. Grabbing their napkins and tossing them in the trash can nearest, they resume their walking down the street. The sky has only gotten paler, and winds chilled.

“You sure you don’t want to get a coat from the car, or something?” Olivia asks, hands in her jean pockets.

Cassandra shakes her head a second time, folding her arms apparently for her own comfort rather than to preserve warmth. “No, trust me, I’m enjoying the temperature. Among other things.”

Olivia looks up and finds her eyes looking right back. It makes her world slow. She almost hates it, or so she thinks. Sooner or later she’ll run out of energy for the false translation of how it makes her feel, and she’ll have to be honest with herself, and she knows it. It makes her heart sink, for better or worse, and she looks away toward the street.

“I am, too, I guess,” she says to mock, but her voice has warmed.

“You guess?”

Olivia smirks, sucking on her teeth. She really won’t let her get away with anything, anymore. That’s how much she knows. And so she lets her hands fall from her pockets, reaching and hooking around Cassandra’s bicep. She laces her fingers together over it, in a deviation from their understood rule of limited public contact. Complicit in her rule-breaking, Cassandra steps closer to her rather than breakaway. Out her peripheral vision, Olivia can see a grin grow generously on her face. And so she sighs silently, and finally allows herself to enjoy where she is.

“By the way,” Cassandra says hushed, “you have ice cream on your nose.”

To that, Olivia grins and proceeds to wipe her nose on the shoulder of Cassandra’s jersey. “Cool. Now we’re even.”

#college au #day & age #friendship fic #fic update #ellinor trevelyan #olivia sinclair #college!olivia #modern thedas au

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balancingdiet · 5 years

Text

Tabula Rasa

Detective Conan & Magic Kaito Characters: Shinichi/Kaito Words: 1700 ish Chapter: (1) ... (8) (9) (10)

Shinichi always finds his neighbour weird. But he didn’t expect to find his neighbour lying on a patch of grass and donned in Kaitou Kid’s costume, too.

The pain on his forehead felt like an ant bite at first; a sharp pinch that went away as quickly as it happened. It wasn’t very strange given he had woken up to all kinds of migraines in his life, but Shinichi had never gotten one that came in a set of three. Three attacks, a cooing sound, and then three—

Shinichi winced, attempting to peel open his deadweight eyelids. But it wasn’t just his eyelids that felt heavy; something was weighing his face down, and he couldn’t quite breathe properly too. He blinked, staring at the white ceiling above him… except that it wasn’t a ceiling.

Fluttering its white wings over Shinichi’s face, the dove pecked his forehead three times again.

“You little—" Shinichi swatted a hand over his face and flung half his body off the floor.

The dove flew away, joining another that was perched on the top of the huge television set; one that Shinichi clearly didn’t have.

He wondered which was more ridiculous: the fact it only just occurred to him this wasn’t his living room, or that he felt he’d slept better than he ever had on his own bed.

Shinichi grudgingly rubbed his forehead.

Ah, he’d figured what was the most ridiculous of all.

His right hand was still holding onto Kuroba’s.

And vice versa.

After Kuroba managed to calm down last night, Shinichi slowly unclasped Kuroba’s grip and tried to wake him up, but no sooner his hyperventilating fits returned and persisted for a while, and only when Shinichi took his hand again, he would return back to normal.

It was a continuous cycle, but that method always worked without fail.

Realising he couldn’t leave Kuroba lying on the floor the entire night (it was an option, but not a good one), Shinichi dragged him to the couch. He sat on the floor next to Kuroba, observing his breathing patterns closely to determine if it was safe for him to leave him alone. Who knew he would fall asleep too.

Judging from the light outside, it must be way past dawn. Or worse, late morning. But it was fine anyway. His report was already done, and the cases he had on hand weren’t of much priority, though Inspector Megure would definitely appreciate if he could solve them as soon as possible.

Holding his breath, Shinichi slowly unclenched his hand from Kuroba's one finger at a time.

Thankfully, he didn’t stir.

Shinichi stood up, letting out a quiet sigh and glanced across the living room. Now that he had the time and focus to notice, the layout of Kuroba’s house was similar to his, the only differentiating factor was the furniture. Most of what Shinichi had at home belonged to his great-uncle, saved for a few others that his mother bought to spice up the house. But it was the opposite for Kuroba. The sparse space in between his furniture emphasised the lack of the latter, and if he really wanted to move, he could do that in less than a few hours.

Was it really for the 63 doves?

Coincidentally, a dove cooed, breaking his mind tour around Kuroba's house. Shinichi blinked away and stared at another dove—which he didn't notice before—sitting on the back of the couch.

Shinichi narrowed his eyes, suddenly remembering about his mail. “Alright,” he whispered to the dove and at the ones that were still perched on the television. “Which one of you stolen my mail?”

A dove cooed.

“…What the hell?”

Shinichi froze. He slowly turned, looking at Kuroba who was now propped up on the couch with his elbow.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, eyes equally wide as Shinichi’s.

There was a slight painful tightness in his chest, like the few seconds before the APTX antidote truly kicked in, but he guessed the only difference was he wasn’t going to shrink or expand this time. “One of your doves stolen my mail,” Shinichi said, and he was thankful he didn’t stutter.

Kuroba frowned. His eyes were a little droopy from waking up, but there was no sign of weariness in his tone, “So you trespassed into my house?” he said, fulling sitting up on the couch.

“Your door wasn’t locked.”

“So you trespassed into my house?”

Shinichi bit his lip, unsure if he should risk saying this one: “I tried warning you, but you didn’t answer.”

“So you trespassed into my house?”

Shinichi cast Kuroba a dark look. “You’re sounding like a broken recorder.”

“This is my house. I can be whatever I like.”

“Fair point.” Shinichi put out a hand. “Give me back my mail and I’ll leave.”

Kuroba stared at Shinichi’s hand before a glint of amusement lit up his eyes. “Don’t you feel a sense of Deja vu in this?”

“Funny,” Shinichi deadpanned. “My mail, would you please.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

Shinichi couldn’t blame him for that. “Your dove flew into the room that has a balcony. It might be in that one,” he suggested.

“Hm.” Kuroba stood up from the couch and nonchalantly brushed some feathers he found on his pants (it must have happened quite commonly). “So you trespassed my house so early in the morning just to get some mail? It must be important.”

Like what Shinichi guessed, it seemed Kuroba had no recollection of what happened last night, but he wasn’t sure when it would last till bits of his memories returned. He chose a safer route and didn’t answer.

Kuroba didn’t seem to regard anything odd to Shinichi’s silence. “Is it a fan-mail? Or a love letter from Mouri Ran?”

A heartbeat.

Shinichi's hands squeezed.

“No.”

The words came instantly before Shinichi could register himself saying it, and Kuroba looked at him, obviously noticing something was off, not just from Shinichi’s tone but probably the entire geography of his face.

For an instant, Kuroba seemed guilty, but Shinichi felt no satisfaction from it. “Ok. I'll go find it,” he awkwardly murmured before approaching the stairs.

Just when Shinichi was glad the whole conversation was over, he noticed Kuroba stopped in his tracks, his shoulders hunched in a tense way that wasn't so ten seconds ago. Then, with his back still facing the living room, Kuroba glanced at the floor, and something told Shinichi it wasn’t a coincidence that it was the spot he found Kuroba lying last night.

Despite turning just half of his body, Shinichi could see the clench in Kuroba’s cheek and the slight distant look in his eye. There was something about the way his fingers curled slightly into a fist, too.

He remembered, Shinichi thought, and he wondered how he managed to read him, as though he knew him since a long time ago.

Yes, for Kaitou Kid. But not for Kuroba Kaito.

“You came last night,” Kuroba said, more of a statement than a question.

There really wasn’t any other way to go around it. “…I did.”

Without another word, Kuroba headed up the stairs.

Shinichi never really liked Kuroba’s doves, be it the one that just pecked his head or the one that always shit on his mailbox. But as he waited in the living room alongside with the doves, he was strangely comforted by their presences.

A sound of click and footsteps after, Kuroba returned, passing an envelope to Shinichi. He recognized it as his mail and accepted it, before finding a Band-Aid underneath.

“It’s for your head,” Kuroba explained.

“Oh.” Shinichi brushed a finger past his forehead, feeling the prick from the pecked wound. “Thanks.”

Kuroba pursed his lips. “Don’t thank me.”

Well, right. Of course Shinichi shouldn’t thank him when it was his damn dove that did it. But he decided to account this another time—

“But thank you,” Kuroba added, beating Shinichi's attempt to say something else in reply.

Shinichi was used to an ungrateful Kuroba, the cheeky Kuroba and the annoying Kuroba, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for a thankful one. He spent the silence pocketing his Band-Aid before gesturing to the doves. “Do you let all of your 63 doves out?”

Kuroba blinked, looking a little confused for the change of topic, but he didn’t voice any reason to not continue. “No. Only the obedient ones.”

“Clearly a lack of better judgement when you let the one who caused this to be free.” Shinichi pointed at his forehead. He noticed Kuroba’s lips slightly tugged, and strangely, it was satisfying to know he was responsible for it. Shinichi continued, “But you shouldn’t thank me either. Thank the dove that stolen my mail, whichever it is. I think it lured me in to find you.”

Then, a heartbeat or two later—

“That’s it?” Kuroba asked, the crispness of his voice breaking the silence. “No more questions?”

“What?”

Kuroba walked towards the couch and pulled out a packet of seeds from his white pants. “You’re at least 500% less curious and persistent than the first time,” he said.

Shinichi shrugged. “Given the few expected answers, I don’t think I’m in any position to ask.”

The two doves from the television set joined the one at the couch. They started bobbing up and down, clearly awaiting for Kuroba to pour the seeds out, but he seemed too distracted in his silent thoughts to notice or do so.

Shinichi then plucked the packet from Kuroba’s loosened grasp, and said, “But I guess the only way for me to confirm my answer is to wait when the time is right. Or let the answer eventually come to me.”

Once Shinichi poured the seeds into his hand, the three doves immediately flocked to him, taking turns to feed. With his other hand, Shinichi resealed the zip and tossed the packet back to Kuroba, which he caught without battling an eyelid. Once the short feast was over, the doves scattered back to their positions, bobbing up and down again and eyeing on the packet in Kuroba’s hand.

“You should take a break,” Shinichi advised. He didn't expect an answer, and neither did he need one, so he turned, heading out of Kuroba's house.

But if Shinichi had waited longer and been more perspective, he might have heard Kuroba whispering, “I’ve already taken two years,” right before the front door closed behind him.

#kaishin #dcmk #detective conan #kudo shinichi #Kuroba Kaito #tabula rasa

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jovialyouthmusic · 5 years

Text

Charlotte’s Choice

A Royal Romance AU

12 Arrival at Lythikos

The Court decamps to Lythikos and Drake makes an uncomfortable discovery in a game of ‘Never would I ever’

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12 Arrival at Lythikos

Olivia and Brad made their way to Lythikos ahead of the Court. Olivia wanted the Englishman to familiarise himself with the mountain Lodge where everyone would be housed for the next week or so. There was no time to visit the Chateau, seat of her ancestors - instead they would be further up in the alps at the grand Nevrakis Lodge to enjoy the winter sports and pastimes available. Not every Duchy was visited each season, but this time, those who had sponsors had priority over the others. Rashad would not be hosting the Court but would be helping Neville cover the cost at his Duchy; Milo and Tariq were also sharing costs and hosting at Fydelia. Only Olivia, Anton and the Beaumonts would host the Court in their own right. Olivia had not originally planned to be hosting at all, so all was chaos at the Lodge and she needed to get things under control.

The Lodge was spacious but not big enough for everyone to stay. There were chalets in the grounds where some of the suitors could sleep. Luckily there were enough to go around so none of the nobles would have to share. Olivia had made sure Drake would be in the Lodge, along with the King and Princess and Brad. Penelope, Kiara and Madeleine would also not have to trudge through the snow before retiring for the night. Quarters had been found for Bastien and other members of the Palace Guard in the servants’ wing. Anton in particular was rumoured to be unhappy with being outside the Lodge, but he smiled and assured Olivia it was no problem.

Brad was dragged from room to room, trying hard to remember the layout and the names of staff. As he was Olivia’s sponsored suitor, he was waited on by the staff and allowed to make any orders he wished. He felt a little uncomfortable at the process but reminded himself they were employees and depended on their jobs for their livelihood. Although Olivia was demanding, it was obvious the staff respected and loved her. He resolved to treat them all with the respect he himself would wish to receive.

Brad sat in the lounge in front of a roaring log fire studying a layout of the Lodge. Olivia walked in and clucked approvingly. She was carrying a tray with a jug and two tankards and set it down on the table by the fire.

‘If you’re going to be a convincing Nevrakis host, you need to get a taste for the food and drink. Starting with Lythikos ale.’ She stood with her back to him and poured two tankards. ‘Close your eyes, sweetie’ she prompted, and Brad did as he was told. He felt her put the vessel into his hands, and he was surprised to feel that it was warm and smelled of spices. He imagined it was something like mulled wine.

‘What?…’ he started, but Olivia interrupted

‘No peeking sweetie, get a good mouthful’ Brad obeyed, and obediently he tipped the tankard, filling his mouth – and almost choked at the result. Dutifully he swallowed, and gasped.

‘What in hell’s name…’ the concoction was thick and warm and savoury, with the burn of alcohol ‘You call that ale? Serve that in my bar and there’d be a stand up fist fight’ Olivia was bent over laughing hard.

‘Oh darling, you should see your face’ she snorted when she had breath ‘That - that never gets old. In this climate you need something hearty and warming’ Brad was still grimacing and put his tongue out trying to get rid of the bitter aftertaste.

‘Damn Olivia, that was cruel’ he grumbled, wiping his lips, and she patted him on the arm.

‘I’m so sorry darling, but it’s best to learn the hard way.’ Her face changed to a scowl ‘Please don’t react like that in front of guests, or I’ll be offended’ Brad gave her a nervous placatory glance and sat on the couch, taking a sip from the glass of water at the side. He picked up the house plans again and started to scrutinise them. Olivia watched him approvingly.

‘Very good, I see you’re taking this seriously’ She sat close and squeezed his knee, making him jump. ‘What’s the matter sweetie, guilty conscience? How are you getting on with Lottie Lou?’ Brad gulped

‘I’m walking a fine line Olivia’ he said ‘and I can’t help wondering which of your threats you’ll carry out if I mess up’ Olivia pouted

‘Sorry to hear that darling. Maybe you need a reminder that there are other women out there to keep you occupied.’ She scooted closer to him, her hand still on his knee and sliding up his thigh towards… he jumped up suddenly.

‘You know what? ‘he said a little shakily ‘Maybe I’ll take this to my room’ Olivia grinned, her teeth flashing white.

‘That’s an excellent idea Brad. Perhaps some company…’

‘NO!’ he cried a little too loudly, and cleared his throat, blushing bright red ‘I – I mean no thanks. I’m pretty bushed’ and he stretched, making a not too convincing yawn. Olivia pouted again then grinned.

‘All right darling, but if you change your mind, my room’s very close to yours. You don’t even need that’ she gestured to the diagram he had dropped on the floor ‘to find me. Or you can whistle’ Brad stooped to pick up the piece of paper, realising Olivia was leaning over slightly to check out his butt. He sprang straight up again gripping the paper for fear he’d drop it again.

‘Oops, clumsy me’ he croaked, and started to back away to the door. Olivia leaned back into the couch

‘It’s a shame we’re not at Navrakis Chateau – there’s lots of secret passages there – and no diagram to map them out. We could have had a lot of fun with that’ and she waved her hand at him dismissively ‘Sleep well darling – it’s all go tomorrow, the others will be arriving’ Olivia sat up for a little longer, going over lists, seating plans, menus and programmes of events. Eventually she thought of taking her own advice and getting some sleep.

She made her way up to her room, and stopped by Brad’s bedroom, only two doors away from hers. There was a chink of light under the door and she paused, listening outside. She heard nothing but knocked softly.

‘Bra-aaad’ she intoned in a sing song. Inside there was a thud as if something had hit the floor. She heard him answer shakily.

‘Hello? Olivia?’ She grinned evilly, pausing for a few moments, hoping he was sweating.

‘Just going to bed myself. Have you changed your mind?’ She heard him clear his throat.

‘Uhh – no thanks, I’m fine. You get some sleep, as you said, tomorrow’s a busy day’ Olivia bit her cheek trying not to laugh. The Englishman was too easy to tease, she really rattled him. It was like playing with a little mouse. He’d stay in line, she was sure. She wished he’d had time to go a little further with the lap dance at the races the other day – perhaps she would wear him down yet. She yawned loudly

‘Perhaps you’re right. Sweet dreams, Brad’

The next day was slightly organised chaos, with nobles arriving and being shown to their rooms, meals to arrange and various demands to be met. The day was just set aside for settling in, and the next day there were various activities planned – the lake nearby was perfect for skating, and the ski slopes were in tip top condition. The following day was much the same, with a formal Ball planned in the evening.

The King of course had the Master suite, and the Princess had a room next to his. Any opportunities for Brad or Drake to meet her had seemed to be limited, but the King seemed out of sorts and kept to his suite once he got there. Charlotte met up with Olivia in the lounge after lunch.

‘Father isn’t at all well’ she explained ‘The journey really seemed to tire him, and he said he was feeling cold. I told him to rest in bed for today and hope he feels better for the Ball tomorrow.’ Olivia looked worried

‘Do you think we should call a doctor?’ she asked. Charlotte shook her head

‘I suggested it, but he said no. Even so, we should probably have someone on standby just in case’

‘I’ll do that. Look on the bright side Lottie Lou, we can have some fun tonight if he’s out of the way. We’re on my territory now, so we can let loose a little.’

‘Okay, what do you have planned?’ she asked

‘Drinks in the hot tub with two of your favourite men?’ Olivia grinned

‘Oooh I don’t know Livvy, look what happened at the races, goodness knows what would have happened if Bastien hadn’t walked in on us’

‘Oh come on, live a little, sweetie. You deserve it’ Olivia squeezed her shoulder. ‘See you at my room after dinner? Don’t drink too much, we’ll be having Lythikos Ale’ Charlotte made a face

‘Do we have to? I know you like it, but I think it’s gross’

‘One tankard then you can switch to bubbly, promise’ she smiled archly.

Later, all four had gathered at the hot tub out on the balcony outside Olivia’s suite. The air was crisp and cold, the snow covered mountains glowing in the waning moonlight. Brad was making a face at the tankard Olivia had handed to him.

‘Do I have to?’ he asked, and Drake snorted

‘You already introduced Brad to that stuff?’ he queried ‘You usually spring it on newbies, what did he do to earn that privilege?’ Olivia grinned

‘I couldn’t have him making a scene in front of the other guests’ she replied. ‘It’s always funny watching the first time folk try it’

‘Anton’s face was a picture’ giggled Charlotte ‘I can’t believe he was the only one who’d never had it before. Even Neville knew – and he always looks as if there’s a nasty smell under his nose anyway, even when he’s trying to be charming.’ Drake nodded, remembering the range of expressions that had rapidly gone over Severus’s face at the first taste of Lythikos Ale.

‘Well my dear friends, you’ll be glad to know I’m invoking an ancient ritual designed to help allies and foes bond’ Olivia said as Brad took a gulp of the thick concoction ‘Pass the tankard on, we’re going to share this together’

‘Oh thank God for that’ he sighed with relief and passed the tankard to the Princess. The four of them sat in a cross formation, Charlotte facing Olivia and flanked by the two men. They all wore bathing costumes – or rather, Charlotte and Olivia did, and the men wore briefs. There was no surprise hidden for Charlotte with either of them, and she wondered if Olivia was clued in too. She and Drake had reputedly had a drunken session a couple of years ago, but neither of them would go into details, and she respected that whatever had happened, they assured her it was not going to be repeated.

‘So Connie has been pushing you toward Anton, is that right?’ Trust Olivia to come right out with it. Charlotte had a mouthful of the loathsome ale and nearly spat it out at her friend’s query. She swallowed it dutifully, looking from one man to the other before answering. She obviously wasn’t comfortable sharing talk about the other suitors in front of them, thought Drake.

‘Really Livvy, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to chill out and feel normal – or as close as I can get right now.’ she said, a sad expression on her face. Olivia shrugged

‘Okay, but if you can’t trust us, who can you? I’ve known you since we were little, Drake for almost as long, and Brad here is a total outsider with a different perspective on the whole matter.’

‘But the guys are both suitors in their own right; it wouldn’t be right…’ she blushed, handing the tankard on to Drake. He took a huge gulp – he wasn’t fussy about the concoction, in fact he rather liked it, and the more he drank, the less the Princess would have to imbibe.

‘Oh come on, there’s not a chance in hell you’re going to choose him is there?’ Olivia retorted. The Princess looked down at her feet through the swirling water, and her friend made an exasperated noise. ‘You’re usually better at standing up to him, grow a backbone girl’

‘He – he just keeps on and on at me’ she said quietly ‘He makes me feel guilty for wanting anything less than the best for Cordonia’ Drake’s stomach was churning thinking of the pressure she was under. He passed the tankard back to Brad then reached across to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

‘Hey buttercup, don’t forget I’m feeding him info on everyone. You should have said before, I’m sure I can show him in a bad light, dig up some dirt’ She turned to him, smiling

‘That’s sweet of you, but it has to be backed up. I don’t think he’s that bad, I just don’t connect with him.’ She put her hand on his and squeezed it ‘Now I don’t want to hear another word, I just want to have a nice time with people I like.’

Drake gritted his teeth. She was right, the only thing he had against Anton was an instinctive gut feeling and a few glimpses of his inner workings, just expressions that crossed his aristocratic features. There was nothing concrete that he could find to present to the King. And ‘people I like’? That was a blow. He and Olivia were her closest allies and oldest friends, and although he wasn’t entirely sure about Brad, he didn’t think he would intentionally hurt the Princess. Brad took another swig from the tankard and passed it back to Olivia, who drained it and held it upside down – a Lythicos tradition with its roots far back in history.

‘Brad, crack open the bubbly’ she ordered ‘And there’s a hip flask with Drake’s name on it that I daresay he might share with you.’ Brad rose up out of the steaming water, and Drake saw Charlotte’s appraising look as he went over to the ice bucket to open the champagne. For that matter, Olivia was checking him out. He felt a little crestfallen that he wasn’t the one being ogled, but he kept his place for now. He was sure he could pull something off later to even out the competition. Brad came back with glasses and the bottle, poured some for the two women and went back for the hip flask, which he gave to Drake before immersing himself again.

‘Well I for one am really appreciative of this hot tub’ said Brad. ‘It may be cold in Edinburgh in winter, but this place beats it hands down. I’m really grateful to Olivia too for getting me some warmer clothes. I had no idea the country spanned from the Med right into the Alps, or that I’d be visiting somewhere so cold.’

‘For the record, only the inhabitants of Lythicos find these temperatures normal’ said Drake ‘the rest of us always bring our warmest clothes when we visit.’

‘It was all rather a rush’ admitted Olivia ‘I didn’t think I’d be hosting the Court at all his year.’ There was a silence as the two women downed their glasses of bubbly and Drake passed his flask to Brad.

‘So’ said Brad ‘maybe we should play a game to help us chill.’

‘Such as?’ asked Drake, leaning over to take his flask back

‘How about ‘never have I ever’’ grinned the barman

‘Oh I know this one’ said Olivia ‘I’m game if you are, though I think you’re on shaky ground, you don’t know much about the three of us’

‘Well, after a couple of rounds I’ll know you a lot better’ he asserted. ‘I’ll start’

‘Hey, hey - I didn’t agree to this and neither did the Princess’ pointed out Drake. Charlotte shrugged.

‘It sounds like fun, and fun is what I need right now’ Drake let out his breath explosively

‘Okay, but don’t blame me if it goes horribly wrong’

‘Relax Drakey, let go a little’ said Olivia, lying back in the swirling water.

‘Fine’ Drake grumbled in defeat.

‘Right’ said Brad ‘Never have I ever – lived in a Palace’ Charlotte giggled and took a gulp of her drink. Drake knocked back a mouthful of whiskey and Olivia raised her glass and followed suit. Brad turned to her.

‘you lived in the Palace?’ Olivia’s face was stony

‘Yes, my parents died when I was six, and I went to live at the Palace until my Aunt came to look after me.’ Brad looked mortified.

‘I – that must have been devastating’ he said consolingly. Olivia shrugged.

‘It was a long time ago. Now it’s my turn’ Drake braced himself – Olivia held a lot of secrets, both his and Charlotte’s. She held her glass aloft, looking through the effervescent liquid to Drake.

‘Never have I ever caused a security lockdown’ and she grinned, showing her pearly white almost sharp teeth. Drake knocked back his whiskey, and Charlotte also drank. Brad looked sheepish and signalled Drake to pass the flask. Charlotte turned to him with surprise.

‘Okay, Drake and I snuck into the maze with a stash of chocolate and hid out for a whole afternoon and security went crazy trying to find us – what’s your story?’

‘When I was little, my parents took me to Holyrood Palace, where the Scottish Crown Jewels are held on display to the public – only the day we went, that part of the Palace was closed to the public. I slipped away under the security barriers and went to have a look – and all the alarms went off and they had to stop any more visitors going in, and search everyone leaving.’ Olivia snorted with laughter.

‘Okay, my turn’ said Drake ‘Never have I ever – raided the Palace wine cellar and passed out after drinking a bottle of fifty year old wine’ Olivia scowled and drank

‘That was rather specific’ she snarled ‘you should be careful, I can give as good as I get’

‘I’m up for it’ said Drake, jutting out his chin.

‘Okay you two, this was supposed to be fun, not competitive’ interjected Charlotte. And it’s my turn now’ She sat in thought for a while, then a smile spread across her face. ‘Never have I ever been skiing in a snowstorm’ Drake drank again and so did Olivia, and again Brad gestured for the flask. The other three looked questioningly at him, and he shrugged.

‘There’s an artificial ski slope just outside Edinburgh and I bought some gear cheap, so I can ski tolerably well. I went up into the Highlands several times, and just happened to go out onto the slopes in the Cairngorms when a blizzard hit. It wasn’t a bad one, but it was pretty scary.’ He looked at Drake. ‘My turn again’ he looked thoughtful ‘Never have I ever had my own security guard’ At this, both the women drank, and Olivia topped up their glasses. Now it was Olivia’s turn again.

‘Never have I ever capsized a boat in a storm’ Drake grimaced and drank, and yet again Brad followed suit. Olivia threw back her head and laughed.

‘You two must have been separated at birth’ she chortled ‘I’m not even going to ask you about that’

Drake thought long and hard before coming up with his next statement

‘Never have I ever had sex in a hot tub’ Olivia’s eyebrows shot up and she drained her glass, and the other two stared at her, looking uneasy

‘What?’ she asked, then rolled her eyes ‘Not this one, obviously’

‘How many rounds are we doing?’ asked Charlotte

‘Until the bottle’s empty’ declared Olivia. She held it up ‘Still a little way to go’ Charlotte sighed

‘Okay then, as Drake raised the stakes… Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in the back of a limo’ Drake looked sheepish and took a sip from the flask and passed it to Brad without even asking, and the barman took it. Olivia rolled her eyes and drank too. Charlotte gave Drake a sharp look, and he swallowed nervously. He wasn’t sure whether she wanted to ask who or when, or whether she expected him to fulfil that fantasy for her – or both. He looked at Brad, who passed the flask back whilst he thought

‘Never have I ever been refused entry to a nightclub’. Drake snorted and drank, remembering his rejection at the Gilded Lily in the bartender’s home town. Olivia grinned as Brad failed to reach for the flask.

‘We broke the run!’ she exclaimed ‘My turn – never have I ever had oral sex in the Palace’ Drake grimaced and drank then realised that Brad was holding out his hand for the flask, and he frowned in thought.

Then he caught sight of Charlotte lifting the glass to her lips and blushing furiously. He felt a sudden rush of anger and exploded out of the water toward Brad. The bartender leant back out of the way and Drake had to sit back down as the alcohol hit his head and his legs went weak, his heart thudding in his chest. Charlotte shrank back away from him as the water surged around them, and he gathered himself together, stood up slowly and got out of the tub. The thought of them together made his blood boil and he had to get out before he did something he would regret.

‘Okay, I’m done’ he said through gritted teeth, turning on his heel and picking up a towel and his clothes. Olivia hiccupped slightly – the alcohol had dulled her usual quick wits. Slowly she put the pieces together.

‘Oooh I see’ she said slowly and looked at the other two. Brad looked sheepish, Charlotte a little tearful and shocked ‘Well isn’t one of you going to go after him?’ Brad got out and picked up his towel, and Olivia scooted up next to the Princess, pouring the last of the bottle into her glass. Brad followed Drake into Olivia’s suite. ‘Come on Lottie Lou, spill the beans – what happened with you and Brad?’ she asked, taking another sip of champagne.

Drake was halfway through dressing again when Brad caught up with him. He had on his trousers and was trying to unravel his crumpled shirt. At the sight of the Englishman his face twisted with rage.

‘You – you bastard’ he roared and charged at him. Brad dodged and caught Drake’s arm, twisting it up behind him. The two men had drunk the same amount of whisky, but Drake had imbibed substantially more Lythicos ale than Brad. Although Drake was well trained in self defence under Bastien’s tutelage he hadn’t been called on to use it much, and Brad had a lot of practical experience restraining drunks. Still, Drake manged to twist out of the armlock and spun round to aim a punch at Brad’s jaw. Again he dodged, this time dropping down, popping back up and getting Drake into a choke lock, arm around his neck. Drake became still, knowing the risk of such locks – correctly applied, Brad could cut off the blood supply to his brain and he could pass out. He cursed, knowing that he’d not be in the same position if he’d been clear headed

‘Okay, Drake, just calm down and we’ll talk about this like reasonable people’ Drake panted and sagged, relaxing.

‘Okay okay, I yield, just let me go’ Brad let him go and the two men faced each other, panting. Drake found himself begrudgingly respecting Brad’s skill, and he glared at him.

‘Come on Drake, we agreed this the other day’ he pointed out ‘You’ve got to let her do some exploration of her own. If I wasn’t here, who would she be doing that exploration with? Anton? Rashad? Think man, I’m trying to help you out. What is she thinking right now? She’s thinking you’re jealous – which you are – and that will get her to join up the dots, realise what she’s got in front of her’

‘You didn’t have to go that far with her’ Drake growled.

‘Then what should I have done? A bit of heavy petting? She practically jumped me, there was no way she was letting me go without some sort of release. She’s a passionate woman Drake, and she’s damn lucky to have someone know her so well and take care of her.’ Drake couldn’t help thinking he’d really like Brad if it wasn’t for their situation. Unless he was really good at lying, he seemed a decent guy. He wasn’t one for easily trusting others, and he was still sizing him up – but so far, so good – or so his brain said. His heart disagreed.

‘So what now? Should we go back in or call it a night?’

‘Well if we both go back in, she might think she was wrong to think you’re jealous. If I go back in and she wants to – sample some more, you’d probably punch me for real, so maybe we should cut our losses, huh? Maybe if you just go back in and say your goodnights and I’ll go now, make it look like you got the better of me?’ Drake nodded

‘Sounds like a plan.’ He held his hand out to Brad and they slapped their palms together and gripped hard, eyeing each other with mixed feelings of begrudging respect and suspicion.

#drake walker #drake x mc #liam x mc #olivia nevrakis #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr #choices trr #charlotte's choice

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artyrogue · 3 years

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Blind Date Gaming: Bugs Bunny Collection

There was a time when Looney Tunes were like one of the staples of cartoons. They acted as an inspiration to other illustrators and paved the way for many of the cartoons we know today. As such, it's easy to understand why they were used in so many video games back in the old times. Nowadays they are more or less relinquished for cash grabs like the new Space Jam movie, but in the past...wait no, they were still cash grabs! Crud! There go my debate points on nostalgia! Well, I guess I at least have a case in point: meet today's blind date, Bugs Bunny Collection.

As it would turn out, this is a Japanese game that combines the thrilling action of a game just called 'Bugs Bunny' and its sequel with a clearly obvious name, 'Crazy Castle II'.

Man, the thumbnails look like they were the TI-83 calculator versions of the games

Oh-ho! A double date! Well, I'm not sure if dating the same-ish game twice counts as a double or not, but who cares! Semantics! Let's start with 'Bugs Bunny'. It's vague enough to be about nearly anything! Does it have to do with anvils? Outsmarting hunters? Understanding correct Google Maps directions to Albuquerque? Only one way to find out!

ok it's hotel mario

In a nutshell, you collect carrots by navigating doors, stairs, and pipes, avoiding enemies and using sparse attacking powerups to defend yourself. Out of a nutshell...uhhh...that's really it. There's no clever additions to the levels to spice things up or anything. About the only changes you get in the game is the count of Looney-Tune-themed enemies that want to walk into you. And sometimes that number is a ridiculous slap in the face (and I ain't talking slapstick, Looney-Tunes-type of slap).

Cats...cats everywhere

You can't tell from screenshots, but the controls are horrid. If you start to move down a staircase, you MUST walk down to the bottom. This makes avoiding foes your main issue. You can try to fight some enemies, but attack powerups are rare and the random items you can push into or onto them to defeat them are usually put in dumb locations that really don't foster their use. Enemies will stand still or gravitate back and forth without changing strategies. That sounds manageable, but they will stand still atop a pipe you need to go up, or other times they will refuse to go down pipes, blocking you off from a carrot you need to finish the level. Oh, and one hit and you die. One level had me racing to get a specific carrot before an enemy went up a specific pipe, as he would be stuck forever up there on a 2-tile wide platform. The saving grace for most of the game is that you can, for whatever logical reason, enter a pipe at the same time as an enemy and navigate through without getting hurt. You'll be using the pipe invincibility to avoid a lot of enemies, so get used to watching slow pipe bulges a lot. (That sentence sounds so gross...)

I'm sure there's some lame pun about getting a hare clog in these pipes, but I am plumb out of good puns

So there are 80 levels of this boring, mind-numbing game with shoddy controls and crappy music. And I, like an absolute goon, sat through them all. Some were ridiculously hard, most were simple. Difficulty wasn't linear either, because of course it wasn't! The cherry on top, though, was the lackluster ending that captured my sentiments of this game perfectly:

Brings tears to my eye. And like I mean that I am crying because I want those 2 hours of my life back, dangit

Ugh. Anyway. Let's go to the next! Maybe the programmers learned from their mistakes and improved their formula for Cah-razy Castle part deux!

This one has a story and cutscenes! Far as I can tell, a big doofy-looking witch kidnapped a duplicate of Bugs in drag and locked her in a castle that really doesn't look particularly crazy to me. False advertising, man. Nothing wacky here, just like ring the doorbell and ask to see her gas meter, then find your femme self and bolt! Well, you WOULD, but the navigation of this castle is apparently bloody terrible.

This looks like a really intense DDR song

Luckily, the programming is a bit better this time for movement, and the graphics look a bit better. The core gameplay...well, it's exactly the same. Okay, you can now cross ropes, use a couple new tools to traverse the map, and utilize jump and warp pads to get around, but you still go in doors, avoid walking enemies, use pipes, and collect junk to finish levels. This time, it's keys instead of carrots (because this witch has like 200 different locks on her doors?). Attacking items are more plentiful now, too, and there are FAR fewer levels. So at least there are better experiences somewhere, right? So we good now?

This castle would never get past any house reseller's inspection with a plumbing layout like that

Of course not! Things are still repetitive. The programming is still clunky at times, like when controlling jump pads (which either launch you into space or gently set you 2 block above your position...on the same jump pad). Enemy AI is still atrocious. The icing on the stale, store-bought red velvet cake is the amazing glitch I somehow triggered that replaced the typical non-skippable 20-second clip of Bugs walking slowly to a door that plays after you beat a level with fragments of his head shooting into the sky like fireworks. Now, that would actually be an entertainment upgrade, but all fun halts since the game was caught in some infinite loop, essentially locking me on the end level screen.

I think I found more than 13 bugs here, fellas

So, I figured I'd earned a break after getting an acme-sized headache from these dumb games and just looked up the password to the last level. It wasn't too bad, actually kind of fun, but still had no new features. However! There was another level afterward, and it was a boss fight! You get to shoot arrows at Gruntilda,but man is she cheap. She's invincible most of the time and clips through walls faster'n Wile E. Coyote.

I feel like that's bad broom posture, but whatever. You look like the mayor from Nightmare Before Christmas.

After some rough-ups, I finally nailed her and got a much better ending than the first game. Though like I still don't know who this love interest is? Also, why are there 2 Cupids, and why do they aim like my teammates in Overwatch? It's cool, it looks like Bugs'll get to go on a date of his own after this one. Take her to Crazy White Castle or something.

I like to think Bugs is actually just doing some soul-trapping stare into the eyes of this poor female rabbit while doing some creepy heavy breathing and profuse sweating

Well dang. That was a big ol' adventure, one that I wish I purge from my mind. I'm actually one of the potentially few people who love collectathon-like games (which I guess this one counts as?), but like...please put the collecting in a decently coded and paced game. The lack of building game mechanics, poor controls, boring level design, and overall shoddiness makes me not want to go on a second date with Bugs here again. Although I know of at least one more Game Boy Looney Tunes game, so no escape here. The corporate overlords demand more money! And you should demand this Sprite of Passage for surviving through my whiny rant on a cruddy 90's portable video game!

someone get that catatonic cat a tonic

#BlindDateGaming gameboy bugsbunny looneytunes bugsbunnycollection crazycastle

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gaaragirl22 · 7 years

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Chapter two

Hey! You guys ready to see how Harrys dealing with his Dear Captain attentions being taking or how about what Gils been up to!?! Before I forget the beginning half before the two months marker is a progule telling Iridessa mother story. All mistakes are mine~~also I’ve never read the books so these are pure head cannon. ENJOY!!

Ashnah fought to stand as she watched Merryweather, Flora and Fauna flint into the room. Their wings bringing a low glow into the room allowing her to fully see the dark robes the others were wearing. The sound of heavy rain following in their wake as though the heavens knew what they planned.

“Ashnah…Dear, we know it’s hard to fully understand but some…” Flora trails off looking to Fairy Godmother. Her hands wringing around her wand.

“Are just born Evil. It’s something we need to accept…”

“If I held that same belief,” She whispers looking to Adam and Belle. Her vision wavering as she walks towards them. “ You would have never met!” At her tone her daughter beginnings to whimper. As she tries to soothe her cries she can feels her slipping from her arms she frantically tries to hold her closer…she may be tried but even in her most exhausted state she hadn’t wavered. “Change can happen it takes time and patience-”

“And a willingness to change.” Belle interjects. Taking her husband’s hand she walks forward stopping a few feet before her. “It’s not only us who fear these Villains and their children there are other kingdoms that need our protection and guidance….please Ashnah.”

Her world began to sway as the thunder rumbled from outside the room her daughter cries rising in volume. Dropping to her knees struggling to hold on to her cane, she sees what was bringing about this weakness.

An absorbing stone! They weren’t here to attempt to change her mind…. they were here to capture her. As her daughter opens her mouth to cry aloud. She can feel her own tears fall her heart twisting as she struggles against the encroaching darkness. I’m so sorry, My love…

Two months later If one were to ask anyone on the isle about Captain Hooks only son, Harry Hook, you’re bound to hear a variety of things… “He’s insane! I once saw him challenge a poster to a staring contest…and WON!”

“He’s a flirt! Personal space isn’t a thing he fully understands…I kinda like it.”

OR even.

“He’s Uma lapdog! Comes scurrying anytime that little shrimp-UGH.”

But only one opinion matters to Dear Harry, his Captains…

“He’s my first mate…Are you gonna order or what!?!?”

So we find Harry sitting in Ursula’s fish shop watching his Dear Captain speak in hushed tones to the new girl…he watched as she allowed her to stand close and touch her, even allowing her to cook in the kitchen!

She rarely lets him go back there!

Jumping up with a growl he kicks his seat over. She’s only been here for two months! She hasn’t earned the right to touch Uma she’s barely earned the right to look at her.

Stalking towards Uma who was scanning one of Gils designs for the ship he doesn’t notice how fast the other crew members were scurrying out of his way. His eyes glued to his Captain… the firelight causing her skin to glitter, her hair seeming to shift between midnight blue and seafoam silver. As she looks up with a raised brow causing him to nearly stumble as she stared directly into his eye’s.

No One looks him in the eyes save for his sister and on the off chance he can warrant his attention…his father. When he finally grew curious enough to care as to why they’ve said because when they look too deeply they can feel themselves falling to madness and while that description made him giggle and was great fun for some time he grew bored of people avoiding his eyes…it didn’t stop him from tormenting but it wasn’t as fun…till he met Uma.

The one who doesn’t-no, won’t look away instead she’ll laughs or scoff. The one who knows the method to his madness, who knows how to rail him back from that edge…or fall over it with him. As he slides to her sides making a point to lean close.The new girl comes out of the kitchen carrying a large dish that smells strongly of spice. Gil rushes over with a wide grin trying to grab the dish. He watches as she sits it beside Uma shooing Gil’s hands away. Offering Uma the first bite…not just offering holding it out as though it was an Auradon delicacy.

Grabbing Uma’s arm he glares murderously at the new girl. He doesn’t care how useful Uma thinks this girl is! She was taking privileges with Uma that raised his hackles. Glaring he fails to notice that Uma’s mood has now moved past amused to…very…agitated. “Harry!” She shouts yanking her arm back. Looking first at the silent crowd that was eagerly watching the trio. She looks up into his eyes.“Let’s talk…”

As she leads him into the kitchen he can’t help but send the new girl a grin and a wave. Standing in the cramp kitchen Harry can’t help but stare as Uma pushes out the workers. Like a raging monsoon or perhaps a better description would be a tsunami she sweeps them out all waving arms and cutting glances, before turning to him. A chill goes down his spine as her eyes settle on his.

This was gonna be fun.

She leans against the countertop flicking her hair back with a huff. “What’s got you so deep in your feelings?” She asks staring him down.

He could answer honestly and say that he wants to hook the new girl within an inch of her life…but he’s still not sure how close they were. The safer bet would be to blame Mal or any of the other traitorous VKs.

“I saw that it was close to cotillion time again and couldn’t help but imagine you in one of Gil’s frocks.” He answers stalking closer he reaches out to touch her hair.pausing as she grabs his wrist her touch causing another chill to take him. Her touch almost felt like a burn as his attention went fully to it. He looked down into her face she was looking at him as though she could read his soul and…found the pieces he was hiding.

“Right…Iridessa-” She began letting go of his wrist . Pausing as he decides to come lean beside as though he couldn’t be away from her side for long. “is helping me figure out how we’re getting off the island. So I need you to be on your best behavior.”

“Why haven’t you brought me in on the deal?” He leans closer catching a whiff of her hair. The scent of sea salt and vanilla making his mouth water for a taste. Raking his hand through his hair he refocuses on her voice.

“When I’m sure that this plan can’t fail…trust me, I’ll let you know.”

“Wait-”

“Uh, who’s the captain,again?”She asks folding arms straightening her back to come to her full height….a few inches below his shoulder.

“You are.” He concedes with a smirk. A shiver going down his spine as she puts her hands on her hips.

“You are?”

“First mate.” He moves to stand before almost Kneeling to get in her line of site his breath leaving his lungs as her eyes settle on his with a smirk that can only be described as sweet.

“That’s right. Don’t worry I won’t leave you in the dark too long…just long enough to make sure this is legit.” She runs her fingers through his hair rising a sigh from him. “Let’s get back out there. Remember best behavior.”

As she walks away he takes a moment to catch his thoughts before they wander too far into x rated territory. Walking back into the dining hall he see’s Uma sitting next to the new girl….Iridessa. Quietly he moves to slide up to Uma’s side making sure that she sees him. Grabbing a bite off her plate he sees that Uma has a list written in what looked like a foreign script. It would help if he knew how to read…glancing over Uma’s head to see her smirking with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she touched Uma’s arm.

Uma had asked him to be on his best behavior….but she didn’t say anything about Gils.

// // //

Standing outside of the Villains villia for a good four hours wasn’t what Gil had in mind for his first off day in a long while. But Uma said if he watches for at least a day she’d let him rework the ship’s layout. Working on that would prove to be the most fun and stressful thing he’s ever done. Telling his father that he preferred sewing and creating things instead of fighting or destroying property almost paled in comparison…until he remembered how hard it was to explain that he wasn’t quitting Uma’s crew he just wasn’t focusing on the family business.

Anyway back to his duties Uma said that the Villains might say something that could be useful to them….how? Magic was useless unless you get out of the barrier and even then you’d need a magic item as powerful as Fairy Gods mother wand to bring down the barrier. Mal’s mom had a pretty powerful staff but she’s a lizard, now.

Groaning he reaches into his shirt pulling out the sack of snacks Iridessa gave him since he missed all the clam crisps. As he munched on the dried and spiced roots he sees Evil queen walking out with a bunch in hand along with her every present mirror. Cruelle followed behind yelling instructions to some poor fool who wished to fill the spot their children left.

Quietly….well as quiet as he can be follows the two listening as their conversation varies between old lady talk, ‘Remember when I had control over the entire north west border…Oh those were the times.’ and their desire to act like they weren’t using the five fingers discount. After what feels like hours Gil decides he’s had enough. He’ll just find some other way to rework the ship’s design. As he moves to leave Evil queen asks a question of Cruelle the stops him cold.

“What do you think happened to my magic mirror?” She inquires staring into a particularly shiniest pot.

“The same thing that happened to Maleficent’s spell book…that museum!”

“Oh I don’t know maybe my evie stills uses it…keeps a little bit of me with her…you know?”

“You just want the mirror back!!” Cruelle cackles.

“Yes! Can you blame me? Fits right in the palm of your hand. You can do a complete outfit check and find the nearest prince.”

They rest of their conversation dissolves into bickering but Gil was already gone. His excitement at hearing some kind of useful information makes him tear down the street and straight into Harry.

“What’s put a flame under your feet, Gilly?” He asks grinning widely as he grips the back of his shirt as he tries to walk away.

“Oh, it’s nothing…really! I just got to get to Uma… really fast.”

“Oh, well.” Harry sighed releasing his collar. “That I can understand….about what exactly.”

Taking a step back Gil eye’s the first mate with his usual exasperated expression. He wasn’t going like this…like at all.

“I would tell you, really, I would but Iridessa said that this is like a super secret mission so…” His stomach dropped as Harry’s face slowly took a frightening journey. His eyes squinting, his smile dropped a hard cough exiting his lungs before he folds in half with a crazed fit of laughter. Leaving Gil to wonder if he can make a break for it…

As he moves to slide past a hand lands on his shoulder the grip tight making him grimace. Slowly he turns back to the face that haunts his nightmares…his only seen it once when he and Uma had falling asleep together on the ship…it was cold and there was only one blanket! It wasn’t his fault!

“Gil,what am I?” Harry asks leaning forward staring intensely into his eyes. His mind began to race. What could he say that wouldn’t get him punched or pushed on his butt. He could say son of Hook but that’s a who not what…maybe a close friend but he might not agree with that. Oh, what about first mate to Uma, he might like that. “Gil!”

No time to pick! “You are Harry Hook, son of Captain Hook, close friend and first mate to Uma!?”

After a beat Harry raises a brow, tilting his head. “Right, First mate.” Letting go his shoulder. “As first mate I’m the one Uma comes to for advice and to bounce ideas off of. Which means?”

Not another question he didn’t have the brainpower for this! if he keeps this up he’ll forget what he supposed to tell Uma!

“I’ll find out about this mission she sent you on and…” Harry continues pausing to dust off his shoulder. “I’m sure she won’t be all too happy to hear that one of her crew was trying to go against her.”

His mind begins to race again would he be going against if he kept her order. But Iridessa was the one who told him to keep it a secret…but Uma agreed! Does that count?

“I’ll let you be on your way then…” Harry began offering a deep bow before his back.

“Wait!” Gil shouts his hand outstretched dropping it as Harry turned back with a wide grin. “You’re gonna find out anyway, right?” At Harry’s nod he continues. “Maleficent gave Mal a spell book and there’s a chance it’s in a museum or she has it.” He breathed watching as Harry’s face fell.

“That’s it!” He shouts Throwing his hands on the air before vigorously motion at him. “That was your mission!”

“Hey, I worked hard to get that. You stand outside for hours with only veggie snacks to eat! It’s not as much fun as you would think.” Gil says folding his arms in offense. Dragging his hand down his face he looks up at the sky. With a heavy sigh he reaches into his coat pulling out a small tightly wrapped gray box.

Holding it out he says, “Take this to the new girl.” As Gil takes the box he pulls him close staring into his eyes. “Don’t.Open.It.”

“Where are you going?” Taking the box he’s surprised by its wait. And by the fact that Harry never gets anyone but Uma a gift.

“To Do my duties as first mate.” He tosses over his shoulder as he picks up a rock tossing it in the air.

Shrugging Gil heads to the shop. He had the information and a gift to deliver. What she need the information for wasn’t that important to him. Uma rarely did anything to endanger them. She didn’t force them to join like other crews she just…knew what they wanted and gave it to them. She knew that he had no wish to join the family business so she gave him a way out. Whatever she was gonna do with this info probably won’t be used to hurt them…at least not if Uma wanted it.

#harry x uma #huma #descendants 2 #huma fanfic #wrote the whole thing on my phone #i need a laptop #asap

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thathomestar · 5 years

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How To Doom Part 7.4: The Devil in the Details

If you’ve followed along with the first three parts of this mapping guide, you should now know how to use Doom Builder’s tools to create a playable gamespace. This part will be more about abstract concepts like level design theory and detailing that will hopefully spice up your overall map layouts!

Since I’m taking a social media break and potentially abandoning Tumblr altogether, I might as well just post this thing that’s been in my drafts for I think over a year now. It’s not finished, but I hope it has some useful tips in it. Heavy image/gif usage under the cut!

JOHN ROMERO’S RULES OF DOOM LEVEL DESIGN

Along with helping design Doom’s core gameplay mechanics, John Romero also created 8 of the 9 levels that make up Doom 1′s first episode, Knee Deep in the Dead. E1 of Doom remains one of the most memorable levelsets in first person shooter history... So how did he do it? Well, he had a list of rules he tried to follow. They are as follows, in his words:

always changing floor height when I wanted to change floor textures

using special border textures between different wall segments and doorways

being strict about texture alignment

conscious use of contrast everywhere in a level between light and dark areas, cramped and open areas

making sure that if a player could see outside that they should be able to somehow get there

being strict about designing several secret areas on every level

making my levels flow so the player will revisit areas several times so they will better understand the 3D space of the level

creating easily recognizable landmarks in several places for easier navigation

Let’s take a look at one of his levels from Doom 1, E1M2, and see how well he followed his own rules. If you would, go back and play through the level, then open it up in Doom Builder using the Open Map option under File. Instead of loading it in the Doom 2 format, select “Doom: Doom (Doom format)” instead. You don’t need to add a resource, since DOOM.WAD is its own resource.

I’ll be honest, I’m a little biased towards this level. I find it really fun to play and I think it’s very intelligently designed.

The first rule Romero talked about was only changing floor textures when the floor changed height. If we look around, we can see that this is true.

Notice how he doesn’t always change the floor texture when he changes the floor height, but he always makes sure to change the floor height when he changes floor textures. The reason for this is that it gives the level some shape and makes it more pleasing to the eye. If someone were to, say, turn off all the textures, your level geometry should be detailed enough to still be interesting to look at. No amount of textures can make a flat wall interesting.

The next rule Romero talked about is about border/threshold textures. If you’ve played Doom 1′s first episode for any amount of time, you may have noticed this texture popping up all over the place:

This rule is similar to the floor texture rule, where just about anytime Romero wanted to change wall textures or offset them, he uses this buffer texture in between them. Not only does this break up texture monotony and denote doors and entryways, it also saves on having to meticulously align textures around corners and stairs. Like with the floor texture rule, you don’t HAVE to do it every single time, but it does help a bit.

As an example, here’s the levelset Ancient Aliens that skillsaw put out in May of 2016. What do we see?

Oh look, a border texture. He’s fancied it up a lot, but it serves the same purpose. If you go back and look at my example map, I made use of this technique as well.

Okay, so texture alignment. I said my spiel on this in Part 2 of the guide, but some things are worth repeating. Be anal about your texture alignment. Even with the autoalign shortcuts, you need to make sure it’s all good with your own eyes.

His next rule is about lighting. You might have seen this a bit in the textureless gif above, but varied brightness levels throughout your map can help break up monotony and make for some interesting fake dynamic lighting if you get a bit fancy with it. Going back to E1M2, there’s a great bit of the map that I’ll just let Romero himself talk about. (10:37-11:06 if it doesn’t jump you there automatically)

youtube

You can create some pseudo-dynamic lighting in your own level, kind of like this:

Romero’s next rule is about outside areas, which I showed you how to make in Part 3 of the guide. I think this is an antiquated rule he used for Doom 1 to showcase the Doom engine, but it’s up to you whether you follow this rule. It is rather satisfying to see an outside area with items clearly placed for the taking and figuring out how to get there though...

Secret areas are a big part of any Doom map. There are differing opinions on what the value of a secret ought to be, but I’ve personally always thought of secrets as completely optional, yet rewarding for those willing to explore and find them.

If you remember from the Part 2 of this tutorial, you can mark a sector as a secret by adding it as a Special Effect. When the player plants their feet onto the sector, the secret counter will tick up by 1.

I have an example to knock out two birds with one stone, the red key area of E1M2.

The secret to a good secret (in my opinion) is to not make it so obtuse that people would need to cheat or ask you how to locate it, but to not make it so obvious that you make people feel like you’re treating them like an idiot. Try not to go overboard with your secrets as well. A few well-hidden secrets will probably be more rewarding to the player than a bunch of extremely obvious secrets strewn about your map.

Of course, you don’t have to put secrets in your map at all. But they’re pretty fun to make and rewarding to find.

THE MOST IMPORTANT RULE OF THEM ALL

There is a key difference between modern level design and old-school Doom level design. Modern level design typically shuffles you through what might as well be a giant linear hallway, and you seldom revisit areas you’ve already been to outside of backtracking. Doom level design is based around level flow and reusing space.

A large aspect of Doom’s levels is interconnectedness and non-linearity. Getting the player to revisit areas they’ve been to already can be fun and interesting if done well, and boring if done poorly. E1M2 is fairly linear so it doesn’t make for a good example of this. Instead, let’s look at a better example: E1M7.

If you go and play the level (which you ought to do to understand this lesson better), you’ll find that not only do a lot of the areas kind of seamlessly transition into one another, but that there’s usually more than one way to enter and exit any given area. The same can be said of a lot of the maps throughout Doom.

The key system blocks access to the entire map and forces you to explore and take in the scenery in small bite-sized pieces. Memorable areas and landmarks will help players navigate your levels and hopefully keep them from staring at the automap too much and being confused as to where to go. Of course, your map doesn’t need keys, but key doors are a good way of giving players a small objective to complete while they explore your level.

In E1M7, you only get a small area of the map to explore at the start, but it’s cleverly designed so that there’s no dead ends and plenty of windows that let you view other areas of the map. After getting the yellow key, a large portion of the level opens up, with a couple of side areas and secrets to explore. Getting to the red key is a fight in of itself, but getting back to the red door is a fight as well, as two monster closets open up to put new monsters back into previously explored areas. Getting the blue key opens up a couple more monster closets (as well as access to a big secret that lets you explore the outdoors area), and opening the blue door is pretty much a straight shot to the end.

The more you play the map, the more you take in the surroundings and remember what is where. Try your best to create areas players will recognize as they explore your level!

IT’S ALL IN THE DETAILS

Outside of just a solid map layout is how nice your level looks. Like a character in a fighting game, your map could be really fun to play but at a first glance no one would want to play it because it doesn’t look cool or interesting. Now, because this is such a subjective area of mapping, I’m not going to tell you exactly how to detail but rather give pointers and advice on what you can do.

First off is Things, specifically the ones under the Obstacles, Light Sources, and Decoration sections. If you haven’t already, try putting a couple of these around your map. Things are probably the quickest way to spruce up a map with detail, though don’t go overboard and make your map tacky because of them. Also, most of these Things have a collision box but can still be shot through, so take that into account so the player doesn’t get stuck running into them constantly.

For the next point, I want you to look at the following two images and notice the differences.

Hopefully, you noticed details like the door and lift not being flush with the wall, and the teleporter not being flush with the floor and ceiling. Little things like this can add a lot of depth to your map, making it more interesting to look at than just flat textures on a surface.

Having varying brightness levels for your map can also help create some atmosphere. Check out this hallway.

Kinda plain, right? Let’s lower the brightness and add some mood lighting.

Now this hallway is much more visually interesting! Depending on the mood of your map, making things darker can really add to the atmosphere (as well as present an additional challenge when fighting some monsters).

Of course, if your hallway is just a straight rectangle, that’s going to be a bit boring. I’m going to take the flat lighting hallway and carve out some additional work.

Not exactly spectacular work (detailing is my weakest aspect of mapping) but it’s definitely an improvement over the flatness of the original hallway. I lowered the ceiling overall, added recessed light textures by adding an additional sector along the wall and lowering the ceiling of it most of the way to the floor, added a pillar protrusion to the left, and made a funky door thingy to the right.

Also, don’t be afraid to mess with height and textures. A lot of textures are 128 units high, but that doesn’t mean all your rooms need to be intervals of 128 units. Some textures have built-in seams that you can play with, like so (thanks random redditor I swiped this image from):

Height variation in general can help break up monotony in a map. Once again, going back to the hallway, I’m going to lower the middle part of it and add some stairs, as well as some other adjustments.

Functionally it’s still a rectangular hallway, but visually it’s much more interesting!

Now, all this being said, something important I must state is this: do not over-detail your levels. Adding too many details can obstruct gameplay, and you can spend too much time stressing out over detailing when you could just be building more of your level.

Pictured: Gothic 99. Don’t do this unless your only aim is A E S T H E T I C S and not gameplay

THERE WAS MORE, BUT...

Today is December 16th, 2018. I originally started this mapping guide as a whole in June of 2016, over two years ago. I like to think it helped at least one person, but I really lost a lot of motivation when writing this part for a few reasons.

I am not even remotely a skilled Doom mapper, hell I’d barely qualify as being a novice. This part of the mapping guide was supposed to primarily focus on detailing and the do’s and don’ts of it, but I really didn’t know what direction to take it in, and my lack of experience gave me a real bad case of the writer’s block.

This, unfortunately, marks the end of the Doom Mapping Guide, but not all is lost. Prominent community member Jimmy Paddock has been putting together what are essentially mapping jam sessions called The Joy of Mapping, aimed to be friendly for beginners. Honestly, once you know the basics of using the editor and some of the tricks you can use, the next step towards improving is to just cut your teeth and make some maps, which is something I still need to do myself.

I’ve taught you basically all I know. Now go, and let your ideas run wild.

#doom #doom builder #how to #tutorial #ths writeups

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jesusvasser · 6 years

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Prototype Drive: Porsche Mission E Cross Turismo

Just three months after the Mission E Cross Turismo wowed the press at the 2018 Geneva auto show, Porsche rolled out the concept car for its first test on real roads, in real traffic—even if only as silent meat in a highway patrol car sandwich.

In contrast to other design exercises, which can be moved but are rarely properly driven, the Mission E Cross Turismo is a real runner. In fact, there are already over 100 Cross Turismo prototypes racking up test miles on all five continents—one of which, a crowd-stopper with matte blue alloys, neo off-road livery, and a semi-transparent roof was put aside for our use.

Despite promising stats that it’s intended to be a proper Tesla Model X rival, we go easy on the hand-built multi-million-dollar one-off. That’s easy as in under five seconds from 0-60 mph—no full-throttle hooliganism—and cornering at three-fifths as a tribute to the soft-compound 275/40 R20 General Grabber off-road tires.

The man in the passenger seat introduces himself as Stefan Weckbach, head of Porsche’s global electrification efforts. “One motor up front, one motor in the back, all-wheel drive, underfloor battery pack—all that is already quite close to the final configuration. Still missing are the air suspension and rear-wheel steering. Also conspicuous by its absence is the sound generator that mimics a switchable exhaust. Don’t laugh—listen to it! At this early stage in the development process, we’re of course not yet running on maximum power and torque,” he explains.

To protect the pre-production componentry, first gear is bypassed, so we’re in second at all times, including take-off. Instead of the promised 590 hp, only about 450 hp can be used. There is torque vectoring is by all-wheel drive, brake actuation, and an optional electronically controlled limited-slip rear differential. In combination with the low center of gravity, which beats any 911, and near-perfect weight distribution, this car is as firmly planted as a rare-earth magnet on steel, even at speed.

“Yes, we are indeed working on the E Cross with volume production in mind,” admits the wiry project leader. “But so far, there has not been an official go-ahead.” According to the supplier community, the Cross Turismo will go on sale in late 2021, though the design was allegedly frozen in 2017, together with that of the Taycan—the car formerly known as the Mission E—with which it shares much of its hardware.

Porsche’s second BEV is a good looking car—one-third Macan, one-third Panamera Sport Turismo, one-third all-new. Having said that, the mixed response to the design exercise, especially from North-America, suggests that the number one market would prefer a more rugged, SUV-like appearance. This is going to be difficult to achieve. At 55.9 inches high, the Mission E Cross Turismo is as low as a Panamera; at 78.3 inches, its width shouts overtaking prestige rather than off-road ability; and even the increased ride height and loud go-anywhere body kit don’t do much to change the proportions.

Up in the hills above Malibu, on the winding backroads that connect one canyon to the next, other traits are more important. Take for instance the electrically assisted steering, which is true to Porsche’s reputation in terms of weight, damping, precision, speed, and turning circle. Praise is also due to the complex deceleration apparatus, which blends conventional (or, for a price, carbon ceramic) brakes with a single-speed recuperation device. Why not install a three-step system to warrant that one-pedal driving style everyone is talking about? “Because one pedal is not our philosophy,” quips Weckbach. “This is a proper sports car, and as such its mission is untamed acceleration and instant torque, not lift-off braking.”

Flooring the throttle in this car flattens any hill. Give it stick, and the Mission E Cross Turismo feels like a winch-powered glider before letting go of the tow hook, a videogame racer in full attack mode, a monorail thundering through the esses. Physical, immediate, awe-inspiring—and somewhat unsettling to novices who tend to flinch when the electric motors deliver their mighty shove in full force. There is no doubt about it: we are still a long way from fully recalibrating to electric cars, their mind-boggling on-ramp performance (one rocket per green light, please), their coasting efficiency, their super-physical overtaking ability. True, you can still hear the wind, the squealing tires, the movement of the suspension, and the occasionally grating brakes. The batteries, the transmissions, and the motors, on the other hand, are all but noiseless—it’s like touchscreen versus keyboard, clean air versus smog. For one precious moment, high-end BEVs like this seem to harbor only assets and virtues, no downsides and drawbacks. Is that what enthusiasm does to one’s judgment?

At 194.8 inches long, the Mission E Cross Turismo is anything but a small vehicle. Inside, however, it’s a tight fit. Despite the “foot garages”—transverse troughs in the front and rear floorpan intended to make room for those inconvenient bits at the ends of your legs—this four-seater feels more Panamera Junior than Macan. There is just about enough front legroom, and while headroom is compromised by the low flying roof, shoulder-room is trimmed by the tapered greenhouse.

Due to the 911-inspired coupe shape, it takes a shorter adult or teenager to fully appreciate the accommodation in the back. The seats are a bit like those designer chairs installed in certain first class airline lounges: stylish, beautifully trimmed, and nicely made, but the backrests are too short, the padding is economy-class thin, and lateral support is more in the eye than in the back of the beholder. The three-quarter visibility from the driver’s seat triggers the usual guessing game, the boot is long and wide but not very deep, and access to the second row would have been so much easier through the rear suicide doors of the Mission E concept that were shot down by management for the production-intent vehicle.

While the latest Cayenne and Panamera pushed ergonomic complexity to new extremes with the new touch-centric interface, the Mission E Cross Turismo partially pursues a less-is-more philosophy. Why only partially? Because the center stack is again a distracting touch-zoom-push-slide affair, the center display above it continues to be filled with a bunch of swipe-away graphical tiles, and the very same layout is duplicated on the passenger side.

The neatest part of the new instrument panel is without a doubt the lozenge-shaped main readout, which has obviously been inspired by the set of dials in the very first 911. Together with the optional head-up display, it tells you everything you need to know, even though the digital speedometer should be about three times bigger. Instead of the trademark rev counter, the center of attention is now a combined state-of-charge and range readout. Riding the steering wheel are numerous buttons and thumbwheels, as well as a contrasting, race-inspired center marker.

Looking for the ignition or starter button? Don’t bother, they’re not there. Instead, there is now a small touch-sensitive area to the left of the steering column that sets things in motion while adhering to Porsche’s Le Mans-inspired tradition. Since the shift lever was moved to the two o’clock position behind the steering-wheel, the center console is now big enough for six cupholders or two smartphone chargers.

Labelled PRND, the gear selector is operated by the driver´s right index finger. Sounds boring, but the menu can be spiced up by selecting one of five modes, labeled Normal, Range, Sport, Sport Plus, and Individual. Waiting in the wings but not yet confirmed modes are Eco, Wet, and Off-road. Normal is all about lift-off coasting; Sport and Sport Plus are relatively close together; Range does its best to squash anxiety; Individual lets you tweak suspension, steering, stability control, drivetrain, and soundtrack to your personal preferences.

“With the new infotainment system, we have digitally remastered Porsche´s genetic code,” states a proud Stefan Weckbach. “When the driver switches mentally to autopilot, only the bare essentials are on display. As soon as he is back in sports car mode, however, the environment will automatically switch to dynamic.”

Find an 800-volt charge station (good luck—there aren’t any yet), and it only takes 15 minutes to refill the Cross Turismo’s energy cells to the brim. Settle for 400 volts (difficult enough to find outside of the Tesla ecosystem), and don´t forget to order a nice steak frite to kill the next 40 minutes. Hook the car up to any old 220-volt (110 volts in the U.S.) socket, and be prepared to take a 30-hour sabbatical. Although cordless inductive charging is on the table as a possible option, most will probably be topped-up at home by a Porsche wallbox. Extrovert trendsetters are invited to order the power-operated charge door, which puts on a show by quietly disappearing beneath the front wing.

“A plug-in Porsche must drive and perform like a Porsche fitted with a combustion engine,” says Weckbach. “It must sustain long flat-out autobahn stints without overheating. Repeatability is key when it comes to full-throttle acceleration. The main dynamic parameters have to remain intact through the entire battery charge span. Only when the warning light comes on, under certain conditions performance may be compromised for range.”

It seems safe to expect at least 250 miles between recharging stops in European WLTP-spec terms, which might translate to about 230 miles in EPA testing. Even though it is theoretically possible to free an extra 20 miles of range via an over-the-air command, eventually the moment will come when empty simply means no more go. While electricity is at this point notably cheaper than fossil fuels, the asking price for the Cross Turismo won’t differ much from the Panamera Sport Turismo: The base Cross Turismo should come in just under $100,000 while the range-topping Turbo is expected to cost well over $150,000. Early adopters better be rich.

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eddiejpoplar · 6 years

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Prototype Drive: Porsche Mission E Cross Turismo

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