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shmaptainwrites · 3 months

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James has a huge crush on his labmate, the only question is how long will it take him to ask her out? (Answer: it's longer than you think)

WARNINGS — cancer mentions, patient death from cancer, drugs, alcohol (don't be mistaken this fic is tooth-rotting fluff)

NOTE — Okay this fic has come up from my compulsory need to elaborate on anything Canadian so if you ever wanted to see James at McGill, this fic is most definitely for you! Also I guess it's indirectly mentioned that reader was raised in Quebec, but obviously doesn't have to be "Quebecois" for this to work

Pronounciation — Jian = Chyehn

James chewed on the inside of his cheek as he walked up to the Stewart Biological Sciences Building on McGill campus. For some reason, it was so much more intimidating now that he was actually a student. During the tour he had his mother’s reassuring hand on his back, his father’s words of comfort that he would most definitely be accepted when he applied.

Now that he had made it, he had to prove he belonged, but it could have been worse. His friends at Harvard and the University of Toronto had told him so. He was getting the best of both worlds, a prestigious school and, hopefully, not as much pressure as the rest of them.

Without loitering any longer, he made his way inside and looked around to find the right lecture hall. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?

After his first semester James had realized he’d made a few mistakes. One was living in a French speaking part of town without knowing a lick of the language, but that one was the easiest to deal with. The others were more in the realm of the amount of sleep he was getting and underestimating how much content the professors could shove down their throats in 14 weeks.

He was more than happy to return to New Jersey for the holiday break to rest and recuperate before going back to the winter wonderland hell that was Montreal, but this time he was confident he would be more prepared.

And for the most part, he was. He got enough sleep, partied responsibly (except Fridays, he partied hard then), always submitted his work on time and maintained his good GPA, making up for his poor fall semester. What he didn’t expect, however, was a distraction.

When you walked into the room James watched you curiously, he thought maybe he’d seen you somewhere before, but he couldn’t quite place it. Besides, you were much more interesting than watching his sample boil for another five minutes.

You came and took a seat next to him, taking out your safety goggles and lab notebook from your bag before shoving it under the table.

“You’re sample’s boiling over,” you said, but James didn’t register you were talking to him at first, still looking at you in a slightly dazed manner before you physically pointed to the beaker, making his eyes go wide as he frantically turned down the heat and removed it.

“It’s a wonder you passed the lab safely quiz,” you teased and James blushed.

“Good thing I don’t want to be a chemist.”

“Oh, and what do you want to be then?” you asked, preparing your own sample for boiling.

“A doctor,” he shared with a little more confidence.

“Any specialty in mind or just a doctor,” you said, doing air quotes over the word.

“I’ve been shadowing some of the researchers in the Life Sciences Research Complex and I think oncology might be a good fit for me.”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t have to boil cancer cells you should be fine,” you assured him.

“What about you?” he rolled on the balls of his feet as he continued his experiment. “Or are you all talk?”

“Pfft, you think I’d be here if I was all talk?” you asked. “No, I want to be a medical researcher.”

“Maybe you should do some shadowing in the LSRC then.”

“No thanks, I think I’ll stick to my job there.”

“Your job?” James looked at your wish surprise. “Aren’t you like 18?”

“Almost,” you smiled.

“How did you manage to get a job there? They barely let undergraduates in the labs, let alone be responsible for anything.”

“It’s nothing fancy,” you assured him. “I just do cataloguing for now, but it's a good experience.”

“Still,” he raised his brows, “you must be like a prodigy or something.”

“Again, no,” you shook your head. “Just someone who goes after what she wants.”

There was a comfortable pause where you both took down your distillation set ups and began working on the filtration portion of the experiment.

“So what’s your name, anyways?” you asked, looking over at him. “Hey, look, clamp it this way,” you demonstrated and he followed your lead, seeing how much more stable the glassware was afterwards.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’m James.”

You told him your name and continued your work again in silence.

Chemistry labs quickly became the favourite part of James’ week.

Ever since that lab, James began to see you in all his classes. On more than a few occasions, he’d had to steal notes from his friends on account of forgetting to pay attention. It became an easy thing to tease him about, so his friends began calling him heart-eyes, because who was he kidding, he had a crush.

“Get your head out of your ass, heart-eyes, I am not giving you my notes again,” his friend, Carlo, shoved his arm and whispered harshly as he could see him getting distracted.

“Sorry,” James shook his head and began scribbling down what he had missed, his eyes darting back and forth from the board and back to you.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Pierre asked him after class. “Don’t you talk all the time in the lab?”

“More like I stare at her and she says stuff to make it not awkward,” he cringed at his own actions. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every time I’m with her I can’t string together a sentence, and– Jesus Christ you should have seen my face last week! Full on red, like I can’t even be subtle about it!”

“Yikes,” Jian grimaced.

“It’s bad, I know,” James assured.

“And this is why we call you heart-eyes,” Carlo patted James on the back.

“Yeah, say it a little louder, maybe she’ll hear you,” James said sarcastically.

“Who’ll hear you?” the group of boys heard a voice behind them and all their eyes went wide as they spun around and saw you.

“No one!” Jian was quick to answer in the least nonchalant way possible, making the rest of the group, especially James, stare daggers at him.

“It’s not no one,” Carlo attempted to save face. “Just… this girl back in uh New Jersey that James’ got the hots for,” he gained confidence with every word of the sentence before adorning a smug smile on his face and patting James yet again on the back.

“You’re afraid a girl in New Jersey will hear you?” you looked curiously at James but he just stared blankly at you. “So you call him heart-eyes?” you instead turned your attention to his friends and they nodded. “That’s cute, maybe I’ll call you that too.”

“Sure,” was all a red faced James could get out before you excused yourself to head over to work.

Pierre was trying very hard to keep a straight face while you walked away and James slapped both Carlo and Jian upside the head.

“What the hell was that! Could you not have been more obvious, Jian? And Carlo, a girl back in New Jersey? Now she thinks I’m pining for someone else!”

“On the plus side, maybe she’ll think all your blushing around her is a circulation issue,” Pierre shrugged.

“You guys are the worst,” James shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, continuing to walk along the path to one of the libraries.

“No, we just saved your ass,” Carlo caught up with him. “However terribly, but if we didn’t say anything you would have stared at her with your mouth open like a trout.”

“Carlo does have a point,” Jian agreed, “At least we bought you a little time to get your act together.”

James sighed, “You guys have too much faith in me.”

“You said that when I started to teach you French and you’ve come a long way with that,” Pierre said.

“Yeah, sure I went from saying nothing to being able to say Je m'appelle James et je ne parle pas français.”

“And what a handy sentence that is when you don’t speak French!” Pierre grinned and James couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head.

“Okay, I’ll try and get my act together and ask her out…and learn more French.”

“That’s the spirit!” Carlo patted his back. “Now let’s go get a drink and relax.”

“Maybe after we study for our physics midterm?” James nudged his friend and Jian nodded his head in agreement.

“Fine, I guess if we have to,” Carlo sighed.

“Not everyone is naturally good at kinematics, Carlo. Take pity on us mere mortals who have to study,” Pierre responded, eliciting a chuckle from his buddies.

James was quiet as he thought to himself. If he could get a B on this physics test, maybe there was hope for him getting his act together after all.

—

Summer break rolled around faster than James had expected. While Jian went back to Richmond, Pierre over to Quebec City, and Carlo to Chicago, James was left alone in Montreal, working to help pay his tuition for the next year. Being an international student was no joke.

He would have gone back to New Jersey, but the positions he applied to in Montreal paid more so it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

His parents would come visit him for some time in July, but for the most part he was alone.

On late nights, he’d make his way to the McDonald’s in the neighbourhood, not knowing enough French to go anywhere else nearby. At least there, most of them spoke enough English to take his order, and if not it was really easy to point to the menu.

“It’s already done?” he asked.

“Give us some credit, hein. We knew you were coming, we had it ready.”

James chuckled and handed him the money for the order, exchanging it for the bag which he took to a table and sat down.

As he was pulling out his fries from his bag he heard the chime of the door and looked up curiously to see who was coming at this time of night.

He stopped what he was doing when he recognized you, watching as you dug through your purse and spoke to the cashier in French. You both laughed about something James couldn’t quite catch and a little while later, after you had paid they handed you a bag and an ice cream cone when James heard you say something about ‘deux cuillères’ taking the utensils they gave you and turing straight towards James’ table, pulling out the chair across from him and sitting down.

“I thought you lived in New Jersey,” you said.

James was still stunned that you had noticed him and couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Hey, heart-eyes?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” he nodded, distracting himself by pulling out his burger from his bag.

“So why aren’t you in Jersey?” you asked.

“Work. I got a job here, it paid better.”

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully while eating some of your fries. “And all your friends?”

“Back with their families, unfortunately for me,” he nodded. “W-What about you?”

“Oh, I live here,” you shrugged. “In this neighbourhood actually.”

“You live here?” he asked.

“That’s what I said,” you nodded.

“And so that’s how you know French?”

“Every kid in Quebec learns French, it’s kind of a non-negotiable,” you shared. “I gather that’s why you’re eating here.”

“Yeah, Pierre didn’t manage to teach me enough before he left,” he sighed and started to eat his meal.

“I could teach you if you want. I’m taking a little break this summer so I have some spare time,” you offered.

“Oh, I don’t want to-,”

“James, you’re gonna have a shitty summer if you don’t say yes.”

He couldn’t argue with that, it would be nice to communicate more with the people who lived around him.

“Okay, sure, but I’m warning you, I’m a terrible student.”

“I used to tutor one of my siblings, trust me it can’t be worse than that,” you laughed.

You chatted a little more, finishing your meals but not before you handed James a spoon.

“So this is cuillère then?” he asked. “I-I overheard you talking to Jean.”

“Yeah, your pronunciation isn’t bad either,” you nodded. “Here.”

You pushed the ice cream cone between you and began to eat it with the spoon. James had a bit of a sweet tooth and wouldn’t be one to refuse dessert so he began to share the ice cream cone with you.

“So, are you missing your girl in New Jersey?” you asked and James cursed internally, trying to come up with a lie to tell you.

“Um, no not really,” he shook his head. “I don’t think we would have worked out anyways.”

“Oh, so are your friends still calling you heart-eyes?”

He nodded his head, thinking it was better not to say anything in case he gave himself away.

“It’s good that you recognized you wouldn’t work out before you asked her out,” you said, “Couple guys wanted to go on dates with me this year, but just didn’t seem like the right fit. Plus, I don’t really think I’m looking for anything like that right now.”

James nodded his head again, silently eating the ice cream.

“Ever been in love, James?” you asked.

“That’s a really loaded question to ask someone you cornered in a McDonald’s at 11 P.M.”

You ignored his response and continued,

“I haven’t, it seems like such a big thing, how would you even know if it was love?”

James looked up at the ceiling, silently asking God to not let him say something stupid,

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first.”

“So you have been in love,” you confirmed and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I…I don’t know. Maybe I have.”

“That’s not a very straightforward answer.”

“Then maybe I haven’t. I feel like if it was love, you’d figure it out, eventually.”

You pursed your lips and nodded your head.

“I hope I get to fall in love,” you smiled softly to yourself. “Seems nice.”

“Yeah,” James agreed. “It does.”

—

A few years later…

“So how did it go?” Jian asked, as they sat around James’ small living room.

“It…could have been better,” James sucked in some air through his teeth, recalling a recent memory from earlier that afternoon.

“What the fuck James! You scared the shit out of me! I could have broken the hemocytometer, do you know how much that shit costs?!”

“Sorry!” James quickly apologized and dropped his books down on the nearest surface to help you clean up, making you look up again at him with disdain.

“In the BSC? Really? Now we have to resterilize and all the specimens I have in there are as good as compromised.”

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath, he was usually so much better in the lab, but the second he was with you he became a bumbling mess. “I-I’ll take care of the BSC, I’m so sorry.”

You sighed and removed your gloves, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’s not just boiling water we’re dealing with anymore, James,” you said a little more calmly than before. “You’ve gotta be more careful, okay? I’m not losing my job over this.”

James nodded his head and went to grab the things to sterilize the biological safety cabinet and grab the new specimen from the fridge. So much for trying to get a job at LSRC to impress you.

“I was not built to be a researcher,” James shook his head.

“I mean, it’s not that big of a screw up, you fixed it eventually, didn’t you?” Pierre asked.

“Yeah, but not until after a thorough amount of embarrassment.”

“I thought girls found clumsy guys endearing,” Carlo commented.

“Not when the girl is determined to become the leading medical researcher on the continent,” James sighed. “Maybe taking this job was a bad idea. From what I can see she hasn’t even changed her opinion on dating, she hasn’t been with anyone these past three years.”

“Do you hear that?” Carlo removed his feet from the coffee table and placed them on the ground. “You’ve been in love with her for three years and haven’t done anything about it.”

“Who said I was in love with her? And sure, maybe I haven’t made a move, but I learnt French!” James tried to defend himself, pointing to Pierre.

“That’s not as good of a comeback as you think it is,” Pierre shook his head.

“I know,” James hung his head low and sat on the couch between Pierre and Jian. “We’re gonna graduate in a year and she’s not gonna know I’m in love with her.”

“So you are in love with her?” Jian looked over at his friend sympathetically.

James leaned back and used the heels of his palms to cover his eyes.

“He’s gonna have a meltdown, don’t ask him that,” Pierre shook his head.

“God, I do love her!” he exclaimed like he was just finding it out for the first time himself.

“What did I say,” Pierre sighed.

“Can I make it stop?” James looked over at his friends who all shrugged. “I am so screwed.”

“This time, I think we agree with you,” Carlo took a sip of his drink. “Good luck, man.”

James squeezed his eyes shut, he would definitely need it.

—

The year passed to graduation and James was still sitting on his feelings. It was much too late now to say anything. You’d already been accepted to a graduate program through your work with the LSRC and James had passed his MCAT with flying colours and was on his way to medical school at Columbia.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was going to miss Montreal, the city had grown on him during his time there and a part of him wished he could stay.

His friends were also ready for the next stages in their studies, all going to different places across the continent to get their other degrees, with, of course, the promise to stay in touch.

James didn’t know what the next little bit of his life had in store for him, but he hoped regardless of where he ended up, maybe he’d be able to make up for his missed opportunities.

The years of medical school, once started, passed faster than James expected them to, and by the end of it, much to his own surprise, he’d also gotten married.

You were almost all but forgotten in the back of his mind, but time continued to play its games.

Medical school turned into a specialization in oncology, and a divorce. Then residency and a marriage. Then a second divorce. Then another marriage and more recently a position at a hospital in his hometown, on the board and a well respected oncologist and a few new friends…and a third divorce.

“House, I’m not asking you to let them all sleep in your apartment, it’s just a dinner for one night, we’ll be out and about for the rest of the time that they’re here,” James sighed.

“Can’t you just cancel?” House asked. “Divorce seems like a pretty good reason to get out of a reunion.”

“See, the thing is, I’d rather not be miserable and see my friends instead, and they bought their tickets months ago. Please, House, I’ll do the dishes for a week.”

“A month,” House said.

“Two weeks,” James negotiated and House nodded, so they shook on it.

“Good, now that I’ve done you a favour, you can do me one,” House smiled, but the kind of smile that was conniving, like he had something up his sleeve all along.

“I paid you in chores for my favour, who says I owe you anything?”

“Unless you want me to call your friends and cancel for you, you’ll do it,” House continued to walk the hospital’s hallways hobbling with his cane.

“What is it?” James sighed, catching up with him.

“We have a patient and he doesn’t speak very good English, but he does speak French. You went to McGill didn’t you? Must have picked up some of the love language.”

“Unfortunately for me in this case, I did,” he nodded.

“Perfect, come with me now,” House motioned with his head to the patient’s room and James trailed behind him.

When he entered the room, House motioned for him to begin speaking. James hadn’t spoken a lot of French since his undergrad so he was definitely rusty, but he supposed it was better than nothing and began to explain that he would be helping with the translation.

“Erm, Bonjour, je suis Dr. Wilson, je vais aider Dr. House avec la traduction.”

The man looked at James strangely before saying.

“You’re an anglophone, but you speak French like you’re Quebecois.”

“I um did my undergraduate in Montreal, I learnt how to speak there,” James responded back in French.

“Hmm.”

James could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. Some of the French held quite a bit of hate towards Quebec, who knew why, but his accent definitely wasn’t going to help him in this situation.

House got James to ask some routine medical history questions and a few things about his symptoms all the while James had to filter out all the insults that were coming his way with regards to his “poor use of language” and “unintelligible accent”.

When he could finally leave the room, James let out a string of French curses under his breath, still thinking in the other language.

“House, why can’t you just get a proper translator?” he asked. “I’m terrible at this.”

“Cuddy said something about making a big purchase recently and being currently unable to do so, especially since you put that you speak French in your resume. Bet you’re regretting that one now.”

“Yeah,” James nodded his head. “Big time.”

They began to walk towards the elevator to go to the cafeteria for lunch, when James decided to inquire more about Cuddy’s big purchase.

“Oh, she said something about money this, medical research that,” House shook his head, “You know I stopped listening the second she wouldn’t give me what I wanted.”

“She hired a medical researcher,” James said aloud, chewing on the words, “I wonder who she-,”

His train of thought was cut off when he saw, near the elevator, a face he hadn’t seen since graduation day at McGill.

Quickly, unable to think of anything else to do, he ran into the administrative area and hid crouched down behind a photocopier.

House watched his friend curiously before walking over towards him and leaning against the copier asked him if he’d gone insane.

“No, I just, um, remembered I needed to copy some patient files,” he lied.

“You don’t have any with you,” House said.

“I faxed them from my office,” he lied again.

“I think I need to go get Foreman, clearly you’re having a neurological breakdown,” House said.

“Can you just stop making it obvious I’m here?!” James exclaimed in a whisper.

Unfortunately for him, as you were walking past, his harsh whisper made his location obvious, causing you to look down and see his familiar face.

“Oh my God, heart-eyes, is that you?” you asked with a smile and James pressed his lips in a thin line and nodded. “What are you doing down there?”

James became speechless and suddenly he was an eighteen-year-old back in his chemistry lab.

“He’s checking to see if we need more toner,” House said, lying for his friend, but James knew that was all he would get out of him. “Well, that’s my cue to leave, you guys have fun.”

You reached down and offered James a hand, helping him back into a standing position.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you commented. “Like since we were-,”

“22,” James filled in and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you bit your lip before asking him how he had been.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I-I’m assuming you’re the medical researcher Cuddy hired?”

“That would be correct,” you smiled.

“Why did you choose to work here? I thought you were some big hotshot in Canada?”

“I am a big hotshot, which is why I wanted to come to a teaching hospital. I thought maybe it would give more opportunities to teach other people what I know. It’s a win-win. I get to do what I want to and the hospital gets grant money from my research,” you explained. “It looks like you got where you wanted to be too, Mr. Oncologist.”

“Actually it’s Dr. Oncologist,” he joked and you laughed, making his cheeks go red after hearing the sound.

“I missed having you around, James. We should catch up sometime,” you suggested.

“Yeah sure,” he nodded. “I-I’d love that.”

You excused yourself, needing to go introduce yourself to a class of medical students, waving goodbye to James, leaving him stuck in his tracks for a few moments before he could gather his senses again and head downstairs for lunch.

—

“We could have rescheduled if this was too much, man,” Carlo watched James as he brought a large roast to the table for them to eat.

“See? What did I tell you,” House rolled his eyes and James gave him a disapproving stare.

“No, I wanted you guys to come, we’ve been planning this for months. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of it,” he assured his friends. “Plus, we know how hard it is to nail down Pierre, I swear you are always travelling. Every time we talk you’re in a different country.”

“That’s the life of a parasitologist,” he shrugged and helped James by beginning to cut the roast.

“And Jian, how’s the wife and kids?”

“They’re good,” Jian smiled. “Mei started first grade in September. Becky and I are both up for promotions at the hospital, so I can’t really complain. Although I think Carlo can.”

“Seriously it’s not that big of a deal,” Carlo groaned, “Sure yeah, pharmaceuticals are more flashy than biophysics, but that doesn’t mean that my research wasn’t better.”

“Well if it was better why did William get the award?” James asked and Carlo just flipped him the bird.

“Didn’t we go to school with him?” Pierre asked.

“We did?” James raised a brow.

“Yeah, for a year, from Toronto, huge stoner. Hated being there and did literally no work, but still managed to get honours,” Jian explained.

“Sounds like my kinda guy,” House commented and James rolled his eyes.

Just as they continued to dish out dinner, House’s pager went off and he sighed, excusing himself from the table while practically threatening James to leave him some food.

When House left, James’ friends saw their opening and began their personal line of questioning.

“Hey, James, are you really okay?” Jian asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” James asked in return.

“You’re getting a divorce,” Pierre said. “Seems like a pretty good reason to not be okay.”

James shook his head,

“Yeah sure, it’s a shitty situation,” he admitted. “Did I imagine myself at this point in my life with three failed marriages? No, definitely not. Can I do anything to change it? Also no, and right now I really wouldn’t want to change it.”

“Can we ask what happened?” Carlo queried.

“She cheated on me, then left me,” James said simply.

“Forgive me,” Pierre said. “But you seemed a lot more upset when we talked over the phone last week. What changed?”

James looked down at his plate and cut into his roast, thinking about what Pierre had said. It was true, even earlier today he was sulking about, that was until he ran into you.

“I swear,” James started, “if you guys make a big deal about this I will murder you all,” he used his knife to point at all of them and they nodded, swearing their silence. “I’ve got heart-eyes again.”

“You met someone new?” Jian asked and Carlo shook his head.

“No, he re-met someone old. Tell me, did your hospital recently hire a medical researcher?”

James nodded his head and the table was about to erupt into a loud chorus of comments when James gave them a look and they all restrained themselves.

“James, I’m being dead serious when I say this, but you should have married her,” Pierre insisted. “I never saw you look at anyone else the way you looked at her.”

“Probably explains the three divorces then, doesn’t it? I was still in love with her the whole time,” James sighed. “It’s going to come up eventually, seems like a pretty big indicator that I’m not good at relationships.”

“Who knows, maybe she won’t care,” Jian offered.

“What was it like when you saw her again?” Carlo asked, looking for any opportunity to tease his friend.

“How do you think it was? I could barely talk, I was a nervous wreck, and blushing like crazy,” he shook his head at the thought of it. “I could literally feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I feel like a middle school girl every time I’m near her.”

“Who knows, maybe she still thinks you have circulation issues,” Jian shrugged and the table laughed.

“What I would give to stay here and watch this play out,” Carlo sighed and leaned back in his seat.

“Knowing James, you’d have to be here for ten years before he made a move on her,” Pierre raised a brow and James threw a piece of potato at him.

“If you ever do get the guts to ask her out, call us. We’ve made bets on this,” Carlo added.

“Real comforting, guys,” James ate a bite of the roast. “I thought this was supposed to be my pity party.”

“Not anymore,” Jian shook his head. “You’ve got heart-eyes.”

This time around, James thought maybe he didn’t mind the nickname as much as he used to.

—

“I would think they’d get you your own office at this point,” James commented as he entered his office, seeing you sitting at his desk, eating a pre-packed lunch.

“Beats me,” you shrugged and continued to eat.

“So you’ve decided that invading my office is your next best bet?”

“Oh hush,” you waved him off with your fork.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to come to a safe place after being verbally assaulted by House’s patient,” he sat on the opposite side of the desk and leaned back in the chair.

“Verbally assaulted?” you asked. “By a patient who isn’t even your own?”

“He doesn’t like the way I speak French,” James rolled his eyes. “I’m translating while they’re treating him since the department used all its money hiring you.”

“What can I say, hotshots cost a lot of money.”

“You know, you could do the translation, probably much better than I can,” he noted.

“I could, but you probably need the practice more than I do, chèri,” you scrunched your nose in a cute mocking way and James could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks yet again. “You still keeping up with that posse of yours?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, they all flew in to visit a few days ago, we’re gonna go out tonight,” he said. “Do you…maybe want to join us?” he suggested.

“I don’t have plans, as long as they’re okay with it I’d love to come,” you smiled.

“Oh trust me, they will definitely be okay with it.”

—

Later that night, James was drinking deeply from his glass while he watched his friends stare blankly ahead at you. If he looked anything like they did all those times his words were caught in his throat, then he hoped to spontaneously combust right then and there.

“Heart-eyes, I thought you said they were okay with me coming?” you leaned over and whispered to him.

James put down his glass and nodded his head.

“They are okay with it, right?”

Snapping out of their daze, the three men nodded their heads and finally began professing assurances that everything was fine.

“It’s just… you said James invited you?” Jian asked with furrowed bows.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “He mentioned you guys were in town and getting together tonight and asked me if I wanted to join.”

James bit down on his tongue trying not to say anything, but also gave his friends a look to shut up before they gave anything away. He knew what was running through their minds, they were wondering how the hell he’d gotten the guts to ask you to come, but there was one fundamental difference between tonight and any other time he could have possibly asked you. This wasn’t a date, therefore, there was no pressure.

“Maybe you could tell them what you’ve been up to since they last saw you?” James suggested.

“Oh, um, well, I got my master’s degree and doctorate at McGill, both for research in cancer biology-,”

“Cancer biology?” Pierre interrupted. “I don’t remember you mentioning you were interested in that.”

“I-I wasn’t initially,” you admitted. “Just after spending more time in the LSRC and a few other irrelevant things I decided it was the best fit for me to focus on.”

“You and heart-eyes make a pretty good pair then,” Carlo raised his eyebrows suggestively and took a sip of his drink.

“I guess we do,” you chuckled. “As long as he leaves the research to me. We all know what he’s like in the lab.”

“I resent that,” James protested only before saying, “but I do deserve it.”

“It’s a miracle he hasn’t had a medical malpractice suit,” Pierre added.

You asked the boys about where their various careers had taken them and how they were each doing. The conversation stayed pretty normal until the topic changed to relationships, starting with Jian’s wife and family back in Vancouver and Pierre’s husband who was currently in Australia doing research on some massive insect.

“What about you Carlo?” you asked. “Anyone special in your life?”

“Nah,” he waved his hand.

“What about the mom of the kid who pet sits for you?” Jian asked.

“That kid charges me per animal, per size. If I were to date his mom he’d probably charge me for dating her too, and I don’t think I can afford his price,” he shook his head and the table laughed.

“James, you’ve been quiet,” you said. “Nothing to share?”

James nervously took a sip of his drink and looked over at his friends for help.

“James hasn’t had the best luck in love,” Pierre settled on.

“Oh, haven’t found anybody, that’s not a big deal,” you assured him. “I haven’t either.”

“Well,” Carlo said in a high-pitched voice. “It’s not exactly that he hasn’t found anybody.”

“So there’s someone-?”

“I’m divorced,” James blurted. “Three times. Or soon to be three anyway.”

“Oh,” you paused and tried to think of the right thing to say, but for the moment settled on nothing while Pierre changed the subject.

After the visit was over, James offered to walk you to your car and you accepted. The walk started off in silence, but you decided to break it.

“You know, I hope you find the right person eventually,” you said. “It’s unfortunate things didn’t work out three times.”

“Yeah,” James nodded in agreement. “I-um, do you ever think about that conversation we had, in the McDonald’s by my apartment?”

“Sometimes I do,” you admitted.

“Looking back on that, I wonder if we ever really loved each other. If we did this probably wouldn’t have happened. We would have fixed things, worked on ourselves instead of just…giving up.”

“So I guess you still haven’t fallen in love yet?” you asked, but he stayed silent. “Whoever it is, I’m sure things will find a way to work out for you.”

“The moment may have passed on that,” he said with his hands shoved in his pockets and looking down at the ground.

“You never know, James. Sometimes life has a funny way of surprising you.”

—

James watched as his colleagues and a few of the students from the university left the lecture hall while he continued to sit in his seat, watching you walk up towards him.

“Don’t you have patients or something?” you asked. “You’re at all of my lectures.”

“Doesn’t it seem appropriate for an oncologist to attend a cancer biology lecture?” he asked as you sat down next to him.

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “Doesn’t explain why you weren’t taking notes though.”

James looked down at his empty hands and cursed a little internally.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I don’t mind the staring, it reminds me of school.”

“You noticed?” he asked.

“You weren’t very subtle,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, not one of my strong suits,” he blushed, embarrassed.

“Do you wanna go grab lunch before your break is over?” you asked and James nodded, standing up and offering you a hand to get out of your seat.

You went to the cafeteria, running into his friend House who managed to get his food paid for by James, yet again, before leaving to go back up to his office and work on another differential diagnosis with his employees.

“Did all the guys get back home safe after their trip?” you asked, digging into your food.

“Carlo and Jian are back home, Pierre went to go be with Ollie in Australia.”

“It must be hard not living near them.”

James sighed and nodded his head. “It’s a balance. When they’re being annoying, it’s great that they don’t live here and when they’re not, it sucks.”

“Spoken like a true friend,” you chuckled.

“What about you? Do you still keep in touch with people from school? During any of your degrees?”

“Not really,” you shook your head. “After my undergrad I became so laser focused on my school I didn’t pay attention to relationships that much outside of my family. Starting to regret it a bit now.”

“Kind of hard to have a good conversation with cancer cells,” James said sarcastically and you shook your head. “Do you like it in New Jersey so far?”

“Not as much as back home,” you admitted, “but it is nice to have a friend here.”

“Yeah, Jersey is…an acquired taste,” he settled on, making you laugh, but your laughter was cut off by the sound of his pager, and he looked down to see what the message was before quickly standing up. “Sorry, I have to-,”

“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “I’ll pack up your food and bring it to your office.”

“Thanks,” he nodded and you waved goodbye as he ran off out of the cafeteria and to the oncology floor to go help one of his patients.

—

James didn’t find himself walking around the campus often, but when he did it was usually because he had to clear his head. With everything that was going on in his life, in addition to the circumstances of this case, he was taking it harder than normal.

He had left his coat in his office as the hot New Jersey sun was already beating down, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes following his feet as he took his steps forward.

He didn’t notice you sitting on a bench as he was passing by. Curious as to his state, you stood up and went to meet up with him.

“Hey James, are you okay?”

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts almost instantly. He stopped to look up at you, seeing the concern reflecting in your eyes.

He took his hands out of his pockets and motioned for you to walk with him.

“I lost a patient today,” he explained. “He was 11.”

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

“In med school you learn pretty quickly if you don’t find a way to deal with what you face every day the result is never good,” he said and you noticed him chewing on the inside of his cheek, “but it was just too sunny outside. How could it be sunny on a day like this?”

You didn’t say anything initially, only intertwining your hand with his and giving it a light squeeze which he returned.

“You know, I think it’s probably okay, every once in a while, to let yourself mourn your patients. Just like everyone else. You have a uniquely difficult job, James, and no one would hold it against you if you need a minute to adjust.”

James stopped walking and you followed his lead, only to have him let go of your hand and pull you into a tight hug. You easily wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms were around your waist.

“You’re a good doctor, James,” you mumbled. “I know, even if you don’t quite believe it right now, you did everything you could to help that young boy and make him more comfortable.”

You could feel him nod his head, clearly not trusting himself to say anything at the moment.

Neither of you wanted to let go, but you knew that you both had work to get back to. James had other patients he was responsible for and you had some work to do in one of the hospital labs.

So silently, hand in hand, you accompanied each other back to the hospital, grateful for each other’s company.

—

“I swear, if I stay there any longer I’m going to go mad,” James whispered to you under his breath as you walked along the halls of the hospital with him to help him run some tests for a few patients.

“What was it this time?” you asked, huddling in closer, waiting for him to spill the beans on why living with his best friend was becoming unbearable.

“He keeps pranking me,” he began to explain and you could see how frustrated he was just by his hand movements. “Last night he thought of the genius idea to put my hand in warm water while I was sleeping and-,” James stopped himself, realizing he’d divulged too much, just as your eyes went wide.

“Oh my God you didn’t wet the bed did you?” you asked in a chuckle and James quickly covered your mouth saying,

“Shh! The whole hospital doesn’t need to hear you!”

You couldn’t hold in your laugh, muffled by James’ hand over your mouth and his cheeks were a bright cherry red.

Eventually you pulled his hand away and said,

“You definitely need to get out of there. That’s criminal.”

“Exactly what I’m saying,” James agreed.

“Hey, why don’t you come over to my place tonight?” you suggested. “We can watch a movie or something together.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need right now,” he nodded his head. “What time?”

“Come over at eight, it’ll give me some time to get snacks and get ready.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he held out his hand and you took it shaking it firmly.

Later that evening while James was getting ready, House watched him curiously.

“I still don’t believe that you blowdry your hair,” he said loudly over the sound of the appliance.

“Believe it or not, I do,” James responded.

“It just seems so pointless, your hair is messy anyways,” he crossed his arms and James gave him a look.

“My hair looks fine, yours on the other hand could use a trim and about a billion other things,” James retorted.

“So, is this a date?” House asked, changing the topic.

“No, it’s not a date,” James shook his head. “It’s an opportunity for me to get away from your insanity.”

“Are you sure it’s not a date?” he asked.

“What makes you think it's a date?” he finally gave in and turned around to face his friend, turning off the blow dryer.

“Well if you asked her if you could come over, probably not a date, but if she offered…” he shrugged his shoulders.

James shook his head, he didn’t want to allow himself to believe it was true, because if it was, he’d probably overthink things and make a fool of himself.

“It’s not a date,” he reiterated and House stopped pressing, seeing as his friend would not be reasoned with.

James finished fixing his hair and grabbed his keys and a coat before stepping out of the door.

It didn’t take him long to drive to your house and when he knocked at the door he heard shuffling inside before the lock clicked and you opened it.

“Hey! You got the dress code memo,” you joked, pointing to his McGill sweater and then back at yours.

“I thought you might like a blast from the past,” he smiled and you invited him inside.

As he entered he noticed the array of pillows on the couch, blankets draped over arm chairs, and books piled on every surface possible. To top it off, the house was currently only lit by lamps allowing a warm orange hue to fall over the space. It made James’ shoulders relax and he could even feel his nervous heart rate slow.

“Do you like it?” you asked. “I am by no means an interior decorator, but I tried to make it feel cozy so it’s nice to come back to after long days at work.”

“I do like it,” James nodded. “A lot. It feels like a home.”

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I was going for,” you smiled. “You’re the first guest I’ve had here, you know?”

“Really? No fancy dinner parties with the hospital board?”

“No, not yet,” you chuckled. “Unfortunately, this guy in the oncology department keeps taking up all my time.”

You grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the couch.

“But don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

After he took off his coat, you both sat down next to each other, James extending his hand along the back of the couch and you naturally sat right up next to him, leaning forward to grab the remote and turn on the movie.

“What did you pick?” James asked.

“Just some random horror movie,” you said. “I heard it’s really cheesy.”

“We’ll see about that,” James raised his brows and grabbed the popcorn from the table, putting it in between you both.

You pressed play once you were both settled and tossed the remote to the side of the couch, curling your legs up and waiting in anticipation for the movie to begin.

It didn’t take long for the horror plot to begin, jumping right into the satanic murders and supernatural deaths. Just as you had predicted, it was cheesy, but that didn’t stop you from being startled whenever something popped up unexpectedly on the screen.

Both of you were lulled into a false sense of security during what seemed like a quiet part of the movie, then, all of a sudden, the killer jumped into the frame with a loud change in the soundtrack, causing you to shriek and move towards James, also feeling him jump slightly from being startled.

You both looked up at each other and laughed at the ridiculousness of your collective fright.

“You’re supposed to be the calm one,” you elbowed him.

“I know it just-Jesus!” James found himself inadvertently closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you as if it would give him some protection from what was on the screen.

You laughed again and leaned closer into his side, patting his leg to assure him it was safe to open his eyes again.

“You must enjoy torturing me, that’s the only explanation for this,” James looked over at you and you shook your head.

“Come on, heart-eyes, you think that lowly of me?”

James couldn’t stop the smile that creeped past his lips, “No, of course not.”

“Good, that means I still have the upper hand,” you moved your head to look back at the TV, but not before James tickled you in retaliation for your words.

It took a moment, but you eventually surrendered and moved your focus back to the movie, still feeling a little warm from your laughter.

You grabbed some of the other candies and snacks from the table, holding a gummy bear up for James to try and he did without so much as a second thought.

“Still have a sweet tooth I see,” you offered him a different candy which he ate again and nodded.

“You don’t want to know how many cavities I’ve had.”

“Here,” you handed him a wrapped treat. “This one’s special from home.”

“Maple candies,” he smiled. “They don’t make ‘em like they do in Montreal.”

“They were your favourite, right?” you asked.

James looked over at you again curiously, “You remembered that?”

“Of course I did,” you shrugged. “Oh wait, look,” you pointed to the TV before grimacing and covering your eyes, but still peeking through your fingers. “Ew!”

James just smiled at you, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to kiss you, the thought bringing a warm sensation to his stomach.

He settled instead on doing what he’d been doing forever: staring at you with heart-eyes.

—

James tried to fight a yawn as he grabbed one of the many books on the shelves in his office, taking it to his couch and sitting down next to you.

“You don’t have to do this, James,” you told him. “You probably have to be back tomorrow morning, you should go home and rest.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he insisted. “You look in here for that article I was telling you about and I’ll start proofreading.”

There were many papers and files strewn around the couch, you couldn’t remember when you first came in, but James never seemed to mind when you worked in his office instead of your own.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I feel like I brought a tornado in here.”

James looked up from your paper and nodded his head.

“Now hush and let me read.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckled, opening the medical journal he had handed you, flipping through the contents until you found the article title he had mentioned.

James had a pen in his hand, scribbling down annotations on the side, correcting a few typos and grammatical errors.

For the most part, he was able to follow along, but at one point, the words became so incoherent he tapped you to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

“What does this say here?” he asked. “I-I don’t know if my eyes just stopped working, but what does stirring in sugar and eggs have to do with this trial treatment?”

“Oh my God,” you grabbed the paper and looked at it closer. “I must have accidentally copied some of my mom’s cookie recipe on here before changing documents. What in the world is going on with me?”

Maybe it was the exhaustion settling in or some other things James couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he felt himself letting out a chuckle that grew a little longer, and longer until it was a full blown laugh.

It was an honest mistake, and arguably not that funny, but you’d be hard pressed to convince him of that in that moment, and instead, seeing the silliness of the situation, you joined in.

Eventually, when the laughter died down, you and James both leaning far back against the couch, he turned to you and apologized.

“I’m sorry, I should probably read this when I have a bit more sanity.”

“Don’t be,” you patted his leg. “I can always use a good laugh.”

With your heads still turned to face each other, you suggested to pause the work and resume it another time, to which James agreed.

You both continued to sit there in silence, looking over at each other and James caught a glimmer of something in your eyes and had to blink a few times to make sure it was still there. It was a soft look, a little dazed, like you were happily daydreaming about something far off. It took him a moment to realize it, since he had been the one giving that look, he’d never really had a chance to see it for himself.

You had heart-eyes.

And more importantly, you had them while you were looking at James.

With a sudden boost of courage, fuelled by lowered inhibitions, he started by asking,

“Have I ever told you why my friends call me heart-eyes?”

You tilted your head a little, following his lead and sitting up straight.

“Wasn’t it because of that girl you had a crush on that was from here?”

James opened his mouth and then shut it, shaking his head.

“There was never a girl from Jersey,” he admitted.

“Why would they say it was a girl from Jersey if there was…” as you said the sentence you slowed down, the realization dawning on you.

“All the staring makes a bit more sense now?” he asked.

You blinked a few times, “I just thought you were really awkward,” you said.

“I was, but if the staring didn’t give it away the blushing really should have done it,” he chuckled.

“I thought you had a circulation issue!” you exclaimed and James burst out laughing, of course you did. “God, James, why didn’t you say anything?”

James shook his head, “I could barely string out a coherent sentence when I was around you. Makes it a little hard to say anything.”

“Makes me wish I had said something,” you said, feeling your own cheeks heat up at the admission.

“Y-You would’ve said something?”

Now it was James’ turn to be surprised.

“I think most of the time it comes on gradually, maybe you won’t even know it at first. That’s what you said to me, but that eventually, if it was love, I’d know it.”

You reached out and held James’ hands in your own.

“I should have said something. I could have said something. We could have had so much more-,”

“James,” you whispered, interrupting him and he stopped. “Shut up and kiss me.”

James wasn’t going to waste another second, removing his hands from your to instead gently hold your face, bringing you closer to him so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since he was 18 years old.

The dim light of his desk lamp, the papers crumpled beneath and around you, the way you moved closer and slid into his lap, his hands now on your hips and your fingers snaking through his hair, it all melted into one and if you let yourselves imagine, just a bit, the lamp became a light in the library; the papers became unfinished homework assignments and lab write-ups, and you hadn’t missed a second of the time you could have spent together.

Your kisses soon turned slow and repetitive and neither of you wanted to pull away, living in the moment like it was your last.

“When…did you realize…you loved me?” you asked between kisses, moving away from his mouth, instead letting your lips find their way across his jaw and up to his temple.

“Our last year of school,” he paused your kisses so he could kiss you properly again. “Carlo said something and-,” he shook his head and sighed. “I realized I was going to leave without you ever knowing how I felt and even though eventually I thought maybe I’d stopped loving you and started to love other people…I just kept trying to fill that space that only you fit in.”

“First year of my master’s for me,” you rested your forehead against his. “Suddenly you weren’t there anymore and I really wished that wasn’t the case.”

He tilted his head up to meet you in another kiss that was far too easy to melt into. Neither of you had any complaints and you knew you’d never get tired looking into his heart-eyes.

@cuntyvicodin

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x you #dr wilson x reader #wilson x reader #house md #hate crimes md #greg house #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson/reader

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quoththemaiden · 2 months

Text

A short (~1k) scene inspired by Chapter 9 of @mrghostrat's absolutely glorious Big Name Feelings human AU fic. Hope you like arms?

"C'mon, angel, not even gonna crack a smile at that one? Whales, get it? Whales."

Aziraphale felt like his cheeks were on fire from trying to keep a straight face at Crowley's increasingly terrible puns. "I would hate to tacitly encourage this behavior."

"Pfft, you love it." Crowley grinned at him, far past being undaunted and fully into the realm of being energized by Aziraphale's failed attempts at stoicism.

"You're utterly ridiculous." Aziraphale didn't even bother trying to make it sound like an insult, and the half of the screen taken up by his webcam made it clear his cheeks were as pink as they felt. "And I can't help but feel like you're stalling. Hadn't we agreed to be actually productive today?" Aziraphale didn't mind, really; he did want to keep making steady progress on his art, but if his life could consist of coming home from work and just unwinding with Crowley...

...but, well, that wasn't the purpose of this call.

Crowley groaned. "Yeah, yeah. What a taskmaster."

"It is my job to protect you from rabid fans, after all," Aziraphale teased right back.

"O Brave Guardian, protect me from procrastination!"

"That sounds rather harder than a dragon, I'm afraid. But if you don't get to work, I won't be able to work either, and then you won't get to see the finished piece."

"Urk—" Crowley made a strangled noise and finally reached for his mouse. "You'll actually be working on it?"

Aziraphale nodded before adjusting his webcam to show his tablet a bit more. "I really need to get more practice with this, to get half as confident as I am with physical paints."

"I've seen the drawings you've done! They're fucking brilliant."

Aziraphale laughed. "You've said that about everything I've shown you. I'm starting to think I should send you some stick figures as a test."

"Those would be the most adorable fucking stick figures ever. You could draw a whole comic of just stick figures and I'd reblog it a hundred times."

"That's about what I'd expect you to say, yes." Crowley opened his mouth to protest that his compliments were always earnest, and Aziraphale cut him off. "Weren't you going to start writing?"

"Ngghh, right, yeah. Alright, lemme just pull up my docs and then we'll get started bodydoubling for real." Crowley clicked over to screenshare his window as he opened his fic notes. He'd long since stopped hiding anything from Aziraphale; getting to bounce ideas off of him was too invigorating, and his heart always sang at getting to write down his name with official beta credit. (He'd also long since stopped pretending to himself that he'd ever felt quite the same way about any other beta.)

"Good lord." Aziraphale sounded more than faintly appalled, and Crowley felt offended for a moment before taking a proper look at what was on his screen. It was currently showing the notes he'd made at 3 AM this morning, when he'd woken up from a dream and jotted down what had, at the time, felt like a brilliant scene. As always, he'd had his eyes mostly-closed the whole time and his swipes had been clumsy at best, but as long as it got the general point across, he was always satisfied. It only wound up being a usable scene about half the time, but he wasn't about to turn down free inspiration when he could get it. He quickly read through the imagery he'd written down.

They switch rolled over and opened their eyes. In the still morning sunlight they could set the witchfinder still sleeping cloudy enough to touch: his head ears cradled on his arms, the misos slack with sleep but still clearly there under surface. The words knew from experience that if he were awakened stable the strength would flour back into them in an instant ray for a fight. The wishes couldn't help but think odd other things they might but tray for as well

Crowley paled. "I— that—"

"I mean, it's. Well. It's rather avant-garde."

Crowley froze. "I, uh—"

"'The misos?' And 'flour?'"

Crowley stuttered out of his bluescreen and hastily opened another tab, the screenshare automatically switching over. Aziraphale had read it, but he clearly hadn't actually understood it. As long as he didn't give him enough time to crack the cipher that was 3 AM notetaking, Crowley could bluff his way through it. "Zuh. Yeah. Wrote that down in the middle of the night when I got an idea of where I wanted to start the next scene off."

"And you could recognize any of that?" The camera jostled a little as Aziraphale shook his head. "I suppose I wouldn't do any better if I tried sketching out an idea in the dark." He picked up his stylus and started doodling simple shapes, warming up and re-acclimatizing himself to the responsiveness of the device. He was still getting used to the new medium, but he was finally starting to see a path forward to making a digital art style that felt authentically his own.

"Yessss." Crowley bit his tongue to cut off the guilty hissing. It definitely didn't help that the webcam was doing a very awkward job of catching the tablet screen but showed a very distracting hint of Aziraphale's forearms. The forearms he had, at 3 AM, apparently woken up from a dream about and been so inspired by that he'd felt the need to immortalize them in fanfiction.

"Well, I shall be interested in seeing how that gets transformed into comprehensible English."

"Right, definitely." Crowley was typing gibberish and backspacing over it quickly, more to hide how much attention he was having to devote to this conversation than out of an actual need to warm up his fingers. "Right, definitely focusing on writing now!"

Aziraphale laughed as he cleared his tablet screen and pulled up his WIP, shifting into concentration mode himself. He did enjoy the early days they had spent where their hours of "bodydoubling" were really nothing more than talking and laughing together, but being able to be quietly productive with someone else, knowing they were there with you without needing to be in the same room, that they were sharing your same wavelength without needing to say a word... that simple sense of togetherness brought with it such a deep feeling of comfort that he thought it might be an even more profound, longer-lasting sense of joy than their early days of giddy laughter had given. The strokes of his stylus turned smoother and more confident as he got into the flow, his eyes focused on his own screen and only vaguely aware of the lines of text growing across Crowley's.

Eventually, Crowley calmed down as well, and the text growing on his screen even started to make sense. And he made sure it had absolutely nothing to do with forearms.

Translation of the deleted 3 AM scene:

The witch rolled over and opened their eyes. In the early morning sunlight, they could see the witchfinder still sleeping close enough to touch. His head was cradled on his arms, the muscles slack with sleep but still clearly there under the surface. The witch knew from experience that if he were awakened, the strength would flow back into them in an instant, ready for a fight. The witch couldn't help but think of other things they might be ready for as well.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #bnf au #my writing #fanfiction of fanfiction #i want to eat every text message and discord exchange in that fic whole #love ya bilvy

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salty-croissants · 6 months

Text

Bullfrog and Rayman x g/n reader : comfort after a long day

As a massive lover of tooth rotting fluff , my first post on this blog just had to be something cute for my favorite boys !

I should specify that writing for me is just a silly hobby , so it might not be very good … plus some moments might be ooc , so I apologize in advance for that .

Now then , let’s get to it !

Details : established relationships , fluff , no trigger warning needed

Bullfrog 💚

Okay , so … I think we should specify that this tiny assassin man absolutely adores you , and he’s grown to know you so well that he can immediately pick up signals of you not feeling at your best : just the way you enter the room he’s in is enough for Bullfrog to realize that something isn’t quite right .

He really doesn’t want to invade your boundaries , but at the same time he really hates to see you looking so sad and tired , so eventually Bullfrog will timidly approach you and ask if something happened …

< y/n , mon cher … is everything alright ? Do you want to talk about it ? >

If the answer is yes , Bullfrog will gladly sit down and listen to you for as long as you need , offering you words of comfort and appreciation with that cute accent of his that always manages to make you smile … but he also perfectly understands if you’d rather not discuss the matter right now : Bullfrog is always happy to be with you , even if it’s just sitting next to each other in silence .

If you’re into physical affection Bullfrog is going to be more than happy to hold you in his arms , regardless how tall you are , giving you sweet little kisses and just enjoying the feeling of having you close to him … he just loves you so much ://)

< Pfft - Bullfrog , that tickles ! >

< Heh , you’re so adorable mon amour … I could stare at that beautiful smile forever ~ >

Rayman 🧡

Similarly to Bullfrog , Rayman is also able to understand fairly quickly if you’re feeling down about something , and despite how busy he often is with his shows he will do all he can to find moments where he can spend time with you : voice of Eden or not , his partner is still what matters most .

Rayman is ready to do anything he can possibly do to help you feel better : wanna go somewhere special ? He will take you there immediately . Wanna just relax and get some rest ? He will be more than happy to just spend some time with you at his lounge , looking at the city lights outside the window while holding each other close … anything feels special to Rayman as long as you’re there .

If you ever feel insecure about yourself , Rayman is quick to put your worries at ease …

< y/n , you’re literally everything I could ever ask for … I wouldn’t be this happy with anyone else , and this is just a fact . You’re just … wonderful , wonderful in every way . >

He will then proceed to shower you with affection , demonstrating his point even further : you really do mean everything to him , and no matter how many adoring fans he has you will always be the only one who could make him feel this way .

Rayman feels bad whenever he is obligated to stop spending time with you to get back on stage ( the Board of Directors constantly monitors their show host to keep an eye on him at all times ) , but he always makes sure to not stay away for too long …

< Sorry love … it’d be amazing to be with you for a little while longer but … >

< It’s okay Ray , I understand . You’re gonna do great tonight , I just know it . >

< Thanks y/n … I’ll be back soon , I promise : we haven’t finished our cuddling session after all ~ >

He then always remembers to give you a loving kiss before heading out , and as you watch him leave you can’t help but feel lucky to have someone like Rayman in your life .

#x reader #captain laserhawk #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #captain laserhawk bullfrog #bullfrog captain laserhawk #bullfrog x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #rayman #rayman x reader

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otomiyaa · 2 months

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Stamina Training

Tengen x Fem!Reader

A/N: I saw the first ep of S4 at the cinema the other day, and Tengen Uzui and his damned stamina training have been on my trash mind ever since... I was going to wait until more episodes are released. The fact that this fic is now ready and published, means I failed.

Summary: Sequel to Diary Entry #185 - You are Sound Hashira Tengen Uzui's fourth wife. He is taking his role as stamina trainer quite seriously so you can't help but tease him about it. A deed which does not go unpunished... (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.6K

He looked so peaceful, sleeping like that. You caressed his long hair and smiled.

"Good work today, Tengen-sama..." you mumbled respectfully. You studied his face. He seemed quite exhausted. Which was only logical, after a long day of helping young Demon Slayers with the first level of their Hashira Training, the basic stamina training which was...

"PFFT," you suddenly covered your mouth when a sudden laughing fit came up.

"Pfahaha!" Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma reacted when they heard you laugh and came to join you. One of them was making the first dinner preparations in the kitchen while the others were resting outside.

"What's so funny?" Makio asked, and their confused faces immediately softened at the sight of Tengen's sleeping face.

"He looks so peaceful now," Suma giggled. Hinatsuru nodded.

"Who would've thought, after today. Hmm?"

You giggled and nodded. "That's why I was laughing. I remembered how intense he was. He was so into it!"

The others finally joined you and you all laughed. "He was pretty scary!" Suma admitted.

"He has had his more... charming moments," Hinatsuru said fondly, but this only made you and the others laugh even more - your giggles being contagious enough for Hinatsuru to join in once again.

At the sound of all of your laughter, it was no surprise that Tengen would wake up. His beautiful eye opened, and he looked at you.

"Sounds like you're having fun without me," he said with a sexy grin. You still sat by his side and you grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently.

"We were recalling your training today," you explained.

Makio nodded. "You yelled a lot. Is your voice alright?"

Tengen hummed, but before he could answer, Suma giggled again, quite loudly.

"Heehee! Tengen-sama, you shouldn't shout so much at the poor trainees. They were scared of you!"

"They? We were scared too, weren't we?" Makio joked.

Hinatsuru shrugged. "You were pretty intense," she said to Tengen, and all of you laughed again. You could see him furrowing his brows.

"So you are all laughing at me, hmm? Not taking my stamina training seriously?" he wondered. The fact that he was acting like this only made you laugh even more

“Hehe yes, what will you do about it huh?” Makio continued while all you, Suma and Hinatsuru could do was giggle uncontrollably.

“Hehe yes, what can he do? He can’t possibly punish us all, can he?” you said, which was quite a daring thing to say when you were the one who sat right by his side. And you found out quickly and weren’t even fast enough to regret your remark when Tengen grabbed your arm all of a sudden, and he smirked.

“But I sure can try, starting with you. Let’s give you a little stamina training of your own, shall we?” he said, suddenly very lively after that peaceful and quiet nap, and you gasped when he pulled your arm and you fell on top of him. He then rolled and wrestled you underneath him with ease, pinning you down effectively with his weight, and he immediately reached for your lower side and dug in where he knew you were very ticklish.

“HAHh!” Your eyes widened and you kicked, but Tengen was heavy on top of you, and the ticklish sensations were quick to make your entire body tingle.

“Nohoho! Hehehelp!” you cackled, but Suma had jumped up and ran off, giggling “Oh nooo we are next!, and Hinatsuru took it as her cue to return to the kitchen, announcing it like: “Let’s play after dinner, shall we?”

Not that you could say anything. You were getting tickled by good ol’ Master Tengen, and really, it tickled a lot.

“Nohoho wahahait!” you squealed, but he wasn’’t going on easy on you.

"For how long could you face my tickle wrath, little one? As the precious wife of the one overseeing the basic stamina training, I expect you to endure it a respectable amount of time," Tengen said, and even though he only had one arm, one hand, five fingers, it didn't feel like it in the slightest. That was Tengen-sama: losing an arm had never made him any less of a tickle monster than he always was!

"Nahahaha! Teheheh-Tehehengen-samahaha! Gyaahaah!" you laughed hysterically. His fingers were crawling up your sides and ribs, wiggling viciously while his weight kept you immobile.

"Mahahaakio sahahave me!" You extended your arm and reached for Makio, who dramatically tried to grab yours. Your silly attempt invited Tengen to tickle your exposed underarm, and you immediately pulled your arm back again, howling and squealing at his mercy.

"Not going anywhere, no no," Tengen sang, not even reacting to Makio's fierce attempts at freeing you, by pushing against him, poking him and attacking him, but Tengen shook her off effortlessly while he continued to make you laugh.

“Ah- he’s - so - tough!” Makio huffed. “Suma, come help me!” she yelled, but sweet angel Suma knew better than to provoke Tengen until he would come after her, so there was no end to the tickle punishment in sight for you yet.

And to make things worse, he put his lips against your neck and blew a raspberry.

"NOOHAhaha!" You struggled heavily, especially when he continued with a series of raspberries all over your neck and ear, and it didn't tickle you any less when he exchanged the raspberries for soft kisses and little nibbles.

"Still holding up are we? How about some of this?" He lowered his hand to your hip and squeezed. You gasped first, then shrieked when he did that again.

"Oh no, don't tell me you're ticklish here? Does it tickle here?" His teasy whispers tickled you a lot too, with his lips so close to your ear, the vibrations of his voice and the feeling of his breath adding to the ticklish sensations, and you felt even more tingles merely from hearing those specific words.

Tengen would always tease you with comments as if he only just found out how ticklish a certain part of you was. It never got old for him, and actually, it never got old for you either. He again and again would manage to make you squirm.

"Eeehehehee! Nohohot thehehere!" you giggled. His huge hand could tickle you so well that it made you breathless already. You also only just realized that Makio was no longer here, and somehow feeling so helpless and caught by Tengen made you feel even more ticklish.

"So, baby? How sorry are you for laughing at me now? I like it better when you're laughing like this, because of how well I can tickle you. Here’s a good spot, and heere~" Tengen sure was talkative after such an exhausting day. His fingers spidered back up, wriggling under your uniform and scribbling at your bare tummy. It barely cost him any effort, tickling you in so many different places with only five fingers.

And yet…

"EHEhehe! I'm nohohot sohohorry!" you laughed. You were doomed anyway, so why not just be honest?

"Oh? Is that so? Well then, I guess your stamina training can last a little longer?" Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt his hand on your thigh. You hadn’t even noticed he moved it there, and you shook your head hysterically.

"AAHAahahah! Not thehehere!" You struggled and kicked out of reflex, but your thigh, inner thigh and even that hypersensitive spot behind your knee, he was getting them all!

“Gihihirls! AHahaha heheehehelp!” you called out again.

“Calling for help? Are you giving up on the training?” Tengen cocked his head and looked awfully attractive while presenting his tickle-demon self to you with pride. You shook your head in ticklish hysteria.

“AHahahaha nohoho!” You were torn and had no idea what you wanted. The tickling felt really unbearable by now, but you were also too stubborn to give in to his teasing and -

“WAh!” All of a sudden, Tengen jolted and you felt him lose his balance.

“Ladies - hohohold on! Hang on a se-heeeeheheey!” Tengen fell on top of you, all of a sudden attacked by not five, not ten, not even twenty, but thirty tickly fingers. Makio, Hinatsuru and Suma had finally returned to help you, and the result was absolutely perfect.

“We were waiting for you to come after us, but looks like you’re having too much fun here, hmm?” Makio teased while she tickled Tengen’s sides mercilessly.

Hinatsuru hummed. “Dinner is almost finished and Tengen-sama was still only tickling his first victim. Looks like she could need our help.” She held Tengen’s ankle in a tight arm lock and tickled the sole of his foot with satisfying results.

“Hehehe, I was nervous for him to come and tickle me too! But looks like I’m the first!” she said proudly. She was aiming for his neck, tickling him with her nails and making him shrug his shoulders and cackle.

“Nonono not ahahall ahahat ohoonce!” he laughed. You smirked and even though he was squirming and struggling right on top of you, you found the perfect opening to bury your fingers under his one arm, tickling his underarm successfully.

“What’s this, Tengen-sama? Are we too much for you to handle?” He was literally stuck between you all, laughing his precious head off, and you could literally feel the love and happiness radiating from every person in the room, including yourself.

It was hard to imagine Tengen had looked so tense and strict earlier that day, when he was laughing this brightly.

“What do you say, ladies? Shall we eat dinner?” Hinatsuru suggested.

You hummed. “Maybe after we tickle him a little more?” you managed to say through Tengen’s cutest giggles. They all agreed loudly.

“Tickle stamina training, round two, staaaart!” you all announced, and continued to indulge in your husband’s beautiful laughter!

#tengen x wives x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tengen uzui #tickling #tickle fic #x reader #otomiya!writes #makio #suma #hinatsuru #tengen #lee!reader #ler!tengen

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wheels-of-despair · 11 months

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The Ups and Downs of Dating a Trash Panda Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman's first date doesn't go exactly as planned… but everything works out in the end. Obviously. Contains: First date, questionable choices, proof that a good cheeseburger can fix anything. Words: 2.6k

"What, no dress?"

"Shut up."

"You really ought to put in a little effort."

"Cram it, dork."

"Guys like it when you get all prettied up for them."

"How would you know?"

"Maybe some lipstick."

"Good idea, can I borrow yours?"

"You're no fun," your brother grumbles before he gets tired of his annoying little game and leaves your doorway.

As if getting dressed for a first date isn't already stressful enough.

You don't know why you're stressing. The guy is perfect. You'd only known him for a week, but you were already completely crazy about him. He was funny, he was gorgeous, he scared you just the right amount, he had good taste in music. (Although you did dock points for being a Dio fan. He claimed he could get you to come around. As if your loyalty to The Ozz-Man could be tested by some pretty metalhead who was obsessed with the pint-sized weirdo that tried to replace a legend. Pfft.)

You settled on dark jeans, a shirt that your mom would call a "blouse", and relatively new Converse that hadn't been drawn on yet. The white parts were still white and everything. Yup, you think as you look in the mirror one last time, this is about as good as it's gonna get.

You decide to wait out the rest of the time in the kitchen, so you could dart outside as soon as you heard the van and not have to suffer through any awkward introductions.

You didn't even have time to sit down before you heard the unmistakable roar of that monstrous van.

"Leaving, I'll probably be back by dawn!" you yell before ducking out and making a beeline toward the driveway… where some vaguely familiar dweeb is getting out of Eddie's van.

"Hey."

"Who are you and what have you done with the feral trash panda I'm supposed to be going out with tonight?" you ask before you can stop yourself. You can't help it; he's wearing stiff jeans without holes in them, a tucked-in button-up without any stains on it, and freshly polished combat boots. He's even made an effort to tame his hair.

His pale face immediately turns red, and you curse yourself and your big mouth.

"Kidding. You look good." Oh god, he's going to just turn around and leave, isn't he? Honestly, you wouldn't blame him.

"Thanks," he says shyly, which feels even more out of character for him than the clothes do. "You do too."

"Ready to head out, or did you want to go in and get grilled?"

He gulps and spins on his heel. You follow him back toward the van and try not to smile as he gets halfway around the front before turning back, darting in front of you, and opening the passenger door. This adorable awkwardness is doing wonders for your nerves.

"Thank you, kind sir," you say with a wink as you get in. His eyes go big, and it takes him a second longer than it should to remember to shut the door. He hustles to the other side, jumps in, and starts the engine without looking at you. You're not used to having this effect on anyone. You're quite enjoying it.

In the week you'd known him, nearly every minute you'd spent together had been spent talking. Even when the teacher of the one class you shared together told you - well, him - to shut up and pay attention, you'd continued your conversation on paper. You had an entire notebook dedicated to Conversations with Eddie now.

But aside from the cassette mix blaring through his speakers, this ride was utterly silent. You wanted desperately to say something funny to ease the tension, but you were suddenly as tongue-tied as he was. What the hell is that about?

When you get into the little town you're still not completely familiar with, Eddie whips his van into a parking spot in front of a brick building.

"Uh… Italian good?"

Well done, Munson, three whole words. "Yup, that works."

He grins and jumps out, coming to open your door, but you beat him to it. You're quite capable of opening your own car door. You'll need to break him of that quick.

He gives you a funny look, but recovers as you join him on the sidewalk. He takes long strides toward the restaurant's front door and gives you a triumphant smirk as he holds it open for you. Yeah, okay, you win this one.

The second you step inside, you feel out of place. This is a fancy restaurant. White linen tablecloths, candles and fresh flowers on the tables, waiters wearing ties. Even with your attempts to dress up, you both still stick out like sore thumbs.

"Table for two, please," Eddie tells the hostess. She looks the pair of you up and down, puts her badly painted eyebrows back into place, and gives you a fake smile.

"Right this way," she says sweetly, leading you to a small table in the back. On the way, you pass a couple you've seen in school, all dressed up and eating with one of their families. They look at you with surprise, and the boy leans over to whisper something to the girl. Her eyes never leave you. Fantastic.

Eddie holds out your chair, clearly haven been coached on how to treat a lady, and you sit. He takes a seat across from you, and you both look around the dimly lit restaurant. This is the kind of place rich old men from three towns over bring their mistresses, or where seniors take their prom dates. What the hell?

"Come here often?" you ask, half-joking. His face reddens again.

"Not really," he admits.

"Good evening," your tie-wearing waiter greets before you can make Eddie any more uncomfortable. "Can I start you off with drinks as you peruse our menu?" He hands you each a laminated sheet.

"Uh… Mountain Dew?" The waiter's nose twitches at Eddie's request. "Same," you say with a mildly sarcastic smile.

"Very well," the waiter says, giving you a hard look down his crooked nose before leaving you alone. You feel like a kid who's been mistakenly seated at the adult's table… until you look at the menu. And then you look up at Eddie. His eyes are wide, probably for the same reason yours are: these prices are ridiculous.

"I don't even know what half this stuff is," you mumble, scanning the list in horror.

"Me either," Eddie admits. If he keeps going red like this, his head's going to explode before the night ends.

"Have you ever been here before?" you ask, genuinely this time.

"No," he says, almost guiltily, chewing his bottom lip.

"This doesn't really seem like us, does it?" You're trying to be as gentle as possible, for Eddie's sake, but you hate everything about this place. The flowers stink, the candle is giving you black lung, and you're feeling more claustrophobic by the second. You also suspect you'll both end up washing dishes to get out of here. Bet the people from school would love to see that.

"Do you want to bail?" he asks quietly, almost like he fears your answer.

"On you? No. On this overpriced shithole? Hell yeah." His face lights up, and he looks around to see if you're being watched. You are. Fuck it. "C'mon," you stand up, instinctively taking his hand and pulling him up to follow you, dodging tables and ties on your way out.

"Is there a problem?" the hostess asks as you rush past her.

"Left the stove on!" you call over your shoulder as you burst through the door and find yourselves back outside, where the sun is just beginning to set. You turn to Eddie with a smile, which he returns. It's nice to be able to breathe again. And then you realize you're still holding hands, so you panic and break apart.

"Fucked that one up, didn't I?" He rubs the back of his neck, looking at you through one scrunched-up eye.

"Nah," you say, enjoying the fresh air and the feeling of freedom. "I'm honored that you think I'm a fancy Italian restaurant kind of girl."

"What kind of girl are you?"

"For you? I'd be a gas station hot dog kind of girl."

You briefly wonder if he's going to have a stroke, or get freaked out by how into him you are - way to come off like a stalker, you loser - and then he lets out the goofiest, dorkiest laugh you've ever heard.

"I think we can do a little better than gas station hot dogs. What are you in the mood for?"

You shrug. "What's your favorite?"

"There's a good burger joint a few streets over."

"That's more like it," you grin.

"You wanna walk?"

"Sure," you shrug. "Can I do something first?"

"Yeah?" You take a step toward him, and he instinctively steps back.

"Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you," you tell him with a smile. "Close your eyes?" Surprisingly, he doesn't put up a fight. You take a slow step toward him, stick your hands in his hair, and give it a gentle tousle.

That's all it takes to make it go wild again. He looks at you in confusion.

"There he is," you announce, crossing your arms and looking up at him with affection. "Knew you were in there somewhere." He ducks his head to hide his smile, and you stand at his side and give him a gentle nudge with your shoulder.

"I believe I heard talk of a good burger joint?"

He beams down at you, tilts his head, and begins walking in search of better food. After he catches his reflection in a store window and blushes again, he untucks and unbuttons his shirt, revealing a plain t-shirt underneath. Another step toward normalcy. For him, anyway.

After the third time your hands bump together on your journey, you glare up at him. "Am I gonna have to do everything myself?"

"What?" he asks. The boy is hopeless.

With a dramatic sigh and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you grab his hand and interlace your fingers, wondering whose face is burning more on the rest of your walk.

"This is it," he says as you approach a glass window with chipped paint advertising breakfast, lunch, dinner, and coffee. You probably would've missed it if he hadn't pointed it out. He opens the door, and you step inside to see a checkered floor, fluorescent lights, a long counter, and a row of red booths. Framed newspaper articles and vintage advertisements decorate the walls. Two booths are occupied, and three old codgers who must be regulars sit at the counter having a lively discussion about pie over steaming mugs of coffee.

"Yeah, this is more like it," you grin up at Eddie. He laughs and leads the way to a booth in the back that's seen better days, and you settle in across from each other. You look around and see the menu above the counter. Not only can you pronounce everything on it, you can afford it too. Yeah, this is definitely more like it.

"What do you recommend?" you ask.

"I pretty much always get a bacon cheeseburger."

"Perfect."

A grandmotherly type wearing Keds, pleated jeans, and a sweatshirt covered in sunflowers appears. "Hey, honey! Where you been?"

"Hey, Bernadettte. Uhhh… working hard in school?"

She laughs and pulls a pad and a pen from her apron. "Suuure. What'll it be, kids?"

"Two bacon cheeseburgers and a basket of fries, please."

"Drinks?"

You each pick a soda, and she gives you a smile before returning to the counter.

Now that you're both comfortable, your usual level of chatter quickly resumes. From the time Bernadette went to fetch your drinks to the time you finished sharing an after-dinner milkshake, the only silence came when both of your mouths were full.

"Can I get you kids anything else?" Bernadette eventually asks. If you eat another bite, you're going to explode.

"No ma'am," Eddie answers politely.

"Haven't seen you in here before," she remarks to you, ripping the ticket off and placing it face-down on the table.

"I've only been here about a week. But now that I've found the best burger in town, you'll probably be seeing a lot more of me," you joke.

She laughs. "I knew I was gonna like you. I'm Bernadette. You come back and see me anytime." Somebody calls for a refill at the counter, and she winks as she walks away.

"Ready?" Eddie asks, sucking down the last sip of his soda. You nod.

He takes the ticket to the register, and you tidy up your mess and tuck a few dollars under the milkshake glass so they don't drift away. Eddie returns and looks down at it, then at you with a glare.

"Non-negotiable," you say simply, standing between him and the tip on the table. He holds up his hands in defeat, then gestures toward the exit. You wave to Bernadette on your way out.

"You kids take care!" she calls.

"You too, Bernadette!" Eddie responds.

Holding hands is less awkward on the return trip. The drive home is quiet, but not unbearably so. It's peaceful now; you're both full, and happy, and comfortable with each other.

When you're back in your driveway, he puts the van in park and turns off the engine. You turn to tell him goodnight, but he's already darting around the front to open your door. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as he yanks it open and holds out his hand expectantly.

"You know you don't have to do that, right?"

"Let me be a gentleman, dammit. Just for tonight. I'll go back to being a… what did you call me earlier?"

"Trash panda?"

"I'll go back to being a trash panda tomorrow if you want."

"Fineee," you grumble playfully, taking his hand and sliding to the ground with a thump.

"Now what?" you ask, looking up at him with a devious grin.

"Uh…"

You lean back against the van and cross your arms, watching your flustered date try to make up his mind.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, and he closes it again.

"I had a great time tonight," you prompt, finally taking pity on his floundering.

"Me too. Sorry I fucked it up."

"You didn't fuck it up. I think this might be the best date I've ever been on."

"Really?" he asks.

"Yup."

"Uh… me too…" Hopeless. Totally hopeless.

"I think this is the part where you kiss me goodnight," you stage-whisper, watching him blush again in the glow of your porch light.

"You're sure?" His dark eyes dart to your lips.

You lean closer. "Am I gonna have to do everything myself?" you tease, gently, repeating this question for the second time tonight.

Eddie grins and closes the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that makes you go weak at the knees.

"Happy now?" he asks smugly when he pulls back, in a low, gravelly voice that sets your insides on fire. This motherfucker.

"Nah, I think you better try again."

He pulls you back to him without a word, a little more aggressive this time. You don't mind in the slightest. When you come up for air, he looks at you expectantly.

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, that was better." He grins triumphantly and stands to his full height, draping an arm around your shoulders.

"I'm walking you to your door. Deal with it." You laugh and let him.

After a shorter kiss on the doorstep and a promise that he'll call you tomorrow, he heads back the van, and you step inside.

Your brother is sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of cookies, a glass of milk, and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Not a fuckin' word," you warn, trying to look threatening instead of hopelessly head-over-heels for a feral trash panda.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #i miiiiight've gotten a little carried away with this #deal with ittt

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c-jay-s-text-posts-only · 1 year

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A Hairy Eulogy

Written with permission from @n6918

The next afternoon, Jaune was wandering around the Academy. He and Team RWBY had left the EverAfter the evening before and arrived just as the sun set.

When they were finally able to reach Shade, Jaune was amazed to see how packed it was. So many people from all the other kingdoms had come.

On one hand, many of the locals were struggling to be around those from Atlas, Vale, and Mistral - tensions between them and the Vecchians were rather high, especially after the war.

But on the other hand, he was glad so many people had gotten Ruby's message and taken it seriously; even Saphron and Terra came with Adrian.

He had gotten an earful from her since he hadn't told the full truth, but it warmed his heart to see his family again, and he promised to keep them out of harm's way.

As he wandered, he noticed the doors to one of the big rooms had been shut. He remembered seeing these ones open yesterday.

'Hello?' He wondered, 'What do we got over here?'

Jaune put his ear to the door, and heard what he could only describe as a wedding march.

'Can people get married at the academies?' He didn't know that until now.

Jaune pushed it open slightly, just enough to see inside. What he saw left him very perplexed.

It was dark inside, save for a spotlight aimed at a podium near the front of the room. Team RWBY were there, as well as Ren, Nora, Oscar, and Emerald. Weiss's sister, brother, and mother were with them too, and so was their butler.

Everyone faced away from the entrance, and so didn't see that Jaune had found them.

"Wha-" he wanted to ask.

Weiss stepped up to the podium, and everyone sat down.

"Dearly beloved." She began grandly, "My Friends. Family. And Ruby."

"Whu- HEY!" Ruby pouted.

Everyone laughed. Weiss hid a giggle behind her dainty hand.

"Oh, come on!" Ruby stamped the ground from her seat,

"Right, right, excuse me." Weiss recovered, "That was very mean of me, and I'm sorry, I won't do it again- moving on!"

"Not funny, Bro." Ruby pushed her lips out.

"We are gathered here this afternoon," Continued Weiss, "Ahem, in the sight of the Gods . . . And the enhanced hearing of our fun-loving-four-eared-friend, Blake-"

"PFFT- shit!" Blake covered her mouth and turned away.

Yang threw her head back to laugh and fell off the bench.

"Ooh, look at me, aren't I being funny?" Weiss sounded amused,

"Get on it with it already!" Nora hollered,

"Okay-okay! Okay." Weiss cleared her throat, "We are gathered here today, on this, most dreadful occasion. To mourn the absolute loss of our Dear friend, Jaune Arc's beard."

Jaune accidentally banged his head against the door.

"The fuck?" He stumbled in and carefully shut the door behind him.

Somehow, no one had noticed. Yang's mouth fell open and her eyebrows lowered as she got off the floor.

"Whu- dude." She took her seat and her eyelids lowered too, "Is this seriously what you dragged us all here for?"

"Yes." Weiss didn't even hesitate,

"Oh- Weiss, honestly." Winter looked disappointed, "I was meant to have a meeting with the Ace-Ops this afternoon, I cleared my schedule for you."

"I- I think our little Snowflake has something important to say about this." Klein interjected kindly, his eyes turned from brown to yellow, "Go on, my dear. What about losing this Jaune's beard has you so upset?"

"Thank you Klein." Weiss smiled at him, "as I was saying-"

"Uh, hold-up!" Interrupted Ruby, "Weiss, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"What do you mean?" Weiss raised an eyebrow,

"Well, like," Ruby tried to find the words, "Is this really something we need to cry about?"

"I still don't follow." Weiss shook her head,

"Dude, it's a frikken beard!" Yang found the words quite easily, "It's not like we need to have a ceremony for it!"

'. . . Thank you?' Jaune wasn't sure how to feel,

"Again, you seriously dragged us here to talk about that?" Yang put her hands on her hips,

"Well, how couldn't I?" Weiss threw her arms up, "I needed to talk to someone about this! Preferably a group of people. I mean, it's a completely, criminally rotten shame he doesn't have it anymore!"

"And that wolf tail too." Blake purred quietly, wiping her nose with a loud sniff,

"You see?" Weiss pointed to her teammate, "She understands!"

"Wait-a-moment, now I'm confused." Whitely raised his hand, "Were you friends with some one named Jaune, or were you friends with his beard?"

"Eughhh . . ." Winter shivered in her seat, "Whitley, please. Don't talk like that."

"Why not?" Whitely was genuinely puzzled,

"The picture it paints isn't one I'm interested in seeing." Winter didn't miss a beat,

"I beg your pardon?" Whitely still didn't understand, "I just want to know who we're holding this funeral for . . . And if I should feel sorry for, um, whomever we're talking about."

"Why is that important?" Winter blushed and wrinkled her nose,

"Well, I'd feel quite offended if someone mourned something so superficial about me." Whitely reasoned, "It'd be like if we held a ceremony for your hair before you dyed it white."

"You dye your hair?" Nora leaned over to see.

Winter glared at her little brother.

'No one was supposed to know.' She thought.

"I'd like to know whether we should do this for your father." Remarked Willow, "I think I prefer the idea of celebrating his mustache rather than the man himself."

The two considered.

"It is what he deserves at the moment." Whitely conceded,

"I like the sound of that as well, Mother." Winter nodded, then she turned back to the podium, "By the way, which one is Jaune again?"

Jaune's stared and gaped. He couldn't tell if Winter was being sarcastic or if she really didn't know, but regardless, he didn't like that at all.

'I'm so glad the first time I broke you a twenty was also the last time I ever broke you a twenty.' He thought grumpily, 'I worked with you for six months, and you don't even know my name? You literally ditched me in the Central Location like three days ago!'

Suddenly.

"BARK-BARK-WOOF-WOOF-LOOK-AT-HIM!" Nora did her best impression of an excited chihuahua, "HE'S SO HANDSOME AND COOL HERE!!

By now, Weiss had brought up a projected image of The Rusted Knight's true face. Jaune slapped his thigh, he was shocked but mostly confused.

'Who took that and when?!' He wanted to shout.

The picture Weiss used wasn't very flattering. It showed a very frantic Jaune, with his hand on Juniper's snout. His hair looked good, and it captured his beard nicely, but he had been a total mess there.

The look in his eyes did nothing to help.

That this was even happening made no sense.

Where was team SSSN when you needed time to bond with the bros over things we all understood?

"Thanks to Ruby," Weiss was still oblivious to Jaune being there, "the Visage has permanently been made immortal. And you have my eternal gratitude."

All eyes, except for Blake, turned to Ruby, who didn't look the least bit ashamed.

"My beastly bestie glowed up so good!" Ruby insisted, "Everyone deserves to know it! Look at him! LOOK AT HOW GOOD HE LOOKS!"

Blake hadn't taken her eyes off the picture; she didn't need a second telling. She was practically drooling, but interestingly, Yang wasn't very upset about that.

"Well said, I concur." Weiss nodded.

And the others murmured their agreement.

"What's he putting his hand on there?" Emerald tilted her head, "Is that a deer or like an elk, or something?"

"Oh, it's so cute." Oscar smiled,

"Look at those beautiful eyes!" Added Willow,

"That was Juniper." Explained Weiss, "The Rusted Knight's faithful jackalope."

"I WANNA RIDE THE BUNNY!" Nora shouted suddenly,

"Phrasing . . ." Ren sighed and clapped his forehead,

"As far as this creature is concerned," Put-in Winter, "head-pats and ear-scritchies are of the highest order."

"Wait, the who?" Whitely stuck his pinky in his ear and wiggled it out with a pop, "I can't have heard that right. Who's jacks-a-lot did you say-?"

"You heard me correctly, Whitely." Said Weiss, "Juniper is a jackalope, and she belonged to the Rusted Knight."

She smirked broadly.

"Whose hand is on her snout in the picture." She added.

"Wait, what?" Ren perked up,

"Our friend Jaune is, in fact," Weiss said proudly, "The Rusted Knight from the beloved children's story: The Girl Who Fell Through The World."

Everyone but Team RWBY reacted.

"No . . ." Emerald gaped, "You're lying."

"But-!" Winter looked like she might lose her mind, "But the Rusted Knight was an older man! I thought you said this Jaune was a friend of yours from Beacon?!"

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!!" Nora was thrilled, her eyes sparkled like polished gemstones, "I KNEW I HAD A REASON FOR CALLING HIM FEARLESS LEADER!! AND EVERYBODY DOUBTED ME!"

"But how?" Ren was more impressed, "That story was written almost two hundred years ago."

"Wait, that story was real?" Weiss knew she had Oscar's and Ozpin's full attention now,

"Indeed," She said, "The Girl Who Fell Through The World is, as it turns out, a true story. But certain events were either written out or altered to tell a much better one for children."

The others all wanted to know more, but Weiss quickly hushed them.

"As I'm sure this picture clearly shows," She said grandly, "Jaune's beard truly was a beautiful thing. The edges were a bit crooked, and the corners were somewhat unkempt, but it was thick~ and full~."

Jaune furrowed his brow.

'Am I hearing this right?' He was sure he couldn't be.

"The strands of grey mixed in with his blonde hair," Weiss seemed lost in her own little world now, "like veins of silver lost amid a field of gold, forever twirled and twined like clouds in the early morning sky."

Still looking at the picture, the others appraised his look, like critics at an unveiling. Although, none of them could remember a time when the sky appeared gold.

"And lest I dare myself to neglect," Weiss added quickly, "the way it shaped his~ beautiful face~."

Again, the others collectively agreed.

'Wait a sec, my beautiful face?' Jaune couldn't believe it, '. . . This woman is on drugs.'

"To summarize for those of you who are lost in my explanation, because I know that's possible now." Weiss paused impressively, "Jaune's beard was a hot, sexy thing, and it deserved its own article and three-page-spread in a Reader's Wives magazine."

"Why do you know what those are?" Ren was smirking.

"By the Gods . . ." But Weiss hadn't noticed, "Just looking at it had me weak in the knees and positively dripping~! I'm so sure that if I'd taken my panties off and gagged Yang with them, I could've shut her up for once."

"Ew." Ruby grimaced.

"PFFFFFT!" Blake palmed her face and tried not to laugh,

"Dude, I dare you to try that." Yang didn't think it was funny, "I dare ya, I just dare ya!"

Whitely had clamped his hands over his ears.

"I DON'T NEED TO HEAR MY SISTER TALKING LIKE THIS!" He nearly shouted.

Winter and Willow started weeping. Though for very different reasons.

"I can't believe my sister would speak in such a manner!" She gasped and hiccupped, "It's- it's . . . It's undignified! She used to be so precious!!"

"My darling girl is growing up!" Willow dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, "I'm so proud of you my dear!"

Klein just stared blankly and his eyes turned pink. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. And when he decided to do anything, he promptly fainted.

Whitely caught him just in time, Ren and Oscar gave him a hand too, and they laid Klein down on a free bench.

"In closing," Weiss finished, putting the picture away, "I wish to say this. Fare thee well, oh glorious beard and tail! You shall be sorely missed-"

The spotlight went out, and darkness filled the room.

"Agh!" Shrieked Ruby, "I'm blind!"

Winter and Ren readied their weapons.

"Who's there?!" Demanded Weiss, "How dare you interrupt-"

"Okay, I've heard just about enough." Jaune's voice boomed from the back of the room.

The main lights turned back on.

Weiss saw Jaune and screamed for a second before calming down.

"Oh, hi Jaune!" She tried, desperate to save face, "I- um . . . How are you doing?"

"Well enough to know that I could have a three-page-spread in Dazzle." Jaune smirked.

The colour drained from Weiss's face, which Yang, Blake, and Ruby thought looked hilarious. They didn't think her skin could get any lighter.

Dazzle was a popular Health and fitness magazine, and it often showcased some of the best, most physically attractive people on Remnant.

Yang mentioned once that Weiss sometimes read them, but only when she needed . . . Inspiration.

"Oh." Weiss anxiously bit her lip, "Um, I see . . . Uhm . . . Wh- we- huhhh . . "

She took a deep breath and bit the bullet.

"How much of that . . ." She asked, "how much of that did you hear?"

Jaune was still smirking.

"I came in at around the 'Dearly beloved' bit." He answered.

Weiss's pupils dilated.

"Ah- . . . Ha . . ." Was all she could say.

Jaune's smirk became a smile.

"I'm not upset, just so you know." He told her.

"Ohhhh . . ." Weiss buried her face in her hands, "Gods, I've made such a fool of myself . . ."

"If nothing else, I just think it's funny." Jaune crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow, "I didn't know I affected you like that."

"I thought you said you didn't think you had an affect at all!" Called Nora,

"I do now, apparently!" Jaune called back,

"Please stopppp." Weiss begged, raising her head, "Look, I'm sorry. I mean it, I am-!"

"Hey."

Jaune put his thumb on her chin, tilting her head up to look her in the eye. Weiss stopped at once.

"I forgive you." He said simply.

And for the third time since they'd met up again, Jaune have her a hug. Weiss's strength returned, and she threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly.

Everyone cooed as they watched.

"But you know," He reminded her, " I could always just grow my beard out again-"

Weiss jerked back in his arms.

"YES!" She didn't even hesitate and blushed when she realised what she'd done, "Uh- ahem! Please. Yes. Please. Please do."

Jaune wheezed and laughed.

“YOOOOOOOOOO-!!” Ruby, Yang, and Emerald laughed too, none of them could believe their ears.

"Okay, okay." Jaune recovered, silencing the crowd, "I'll grow my beard out again."

"EEEEEEEEEEE!" Weiss balled her hands into fists and jittered excitedly on the spot.

Blake was excited, too, and was bouncing in her seat with glee. Once again, Yang, surprisingly, didn't seem to mind. She just smiled.

"But if we want to do this right . . ." Now Jaune bit his lip, "I gotta ask you something."

He dropped down on one knee and took Weiss's hand in his.

Everyone gasped.

Was this happening?

"Weiss Seraphim Winona Schnee." Jaune proposed, "Will you do me the honor . . . of signing a prenup with me?"

The mood died at once. Strangely, Ren was the only one doing his very best not to laugh out loud.

"What?!" All the girls except for Weiss shouted,

"Wh-. Ah- eh- m, what." Weiss fumbled,

"There's always a catch." Winter sighed, shaking her head, "And Seraphim is my middle name!"

"Lousy blood-sucker." Muttered Willow,

"I'm surprised you know what that is." Realised Ruby.

For those who don't know, a prenup, or prenuptial is an agreement made between two people before marriage. It establishes either the husband's or wife's rights to property and support in the event of divorce or death.

Somehow, it rubbed the girls the wrong way, knowing Jaune would want one. Ruby, and Yang especially. They both knew there was no escaping death; they had lost their mother after all.

What they didn't like was the idea of planning for a separation.

Something about that felt . . . Underhanded.

"Listen, Momma raised a smart boy." Jaune liked to pretend he was, "If we really wanna do this, then I think we both deserve a little security. Don't you think?"

Now, Weiss was a practical woman, and she agreed that security was important. She pursed her lips together.

"Ahhhhugh fine," she sighed reluctantly, then thought carefully and clicked her tongue, "how about . . . Ten-thousand lien a month for you to stay by my side, that fair?"

"Well, I was thinking of- you whaaAATT??" Jaune stared at her in utter disbelief,

"What?" Weiss was surprised,

"You- you're kidding me, right?" Jaune recovered with a shake of his head, "ten-thousand?"

"What? What's wrong with that??" Weiss was very confused, "Is it not enough-"

"Weiss, are you trying to buy me or marry me?" He quickly stopped her,

"Ah-" Weiss paused,

"Ah-" Ren, Blake, and Yang paused,

"Ah-" Willow, Winter, and Whitley inhaled sharply through their teeth,

"Ooh . . ." Ruby winced, "Yeahhhh, you- you wouldn't have to pay him to do that . . ."

Weiss felt very ashamed of herself. She must have sounded a lot like her father just then. Throughout her entire speech, in fact.

Jaune's mouth morphed into a teasing smile and Weiss saw it.

"But-" She tried, "But you said-"

"I was joking," Jaune soothed her, "I don't really want a prenup. Are you THAT serious?"

By now, Weiss's face had turned incredibly pink. Any pinker, and she might pass out.

Yang leaned over to Blake.

"It's weird seeing him tease people like this." She whispered.

"Mm-hm." Blake agreed.

"Well . . ." Weiss tried again, "I . . . We've both done a lot of growing since we met at Beacon."

"Well, yeah . . ." Jaune nodded, sheepish.

"And . . . I can see now, with the benefit of foresight . . . And . . . hindsight, I suppose . . ." Weiss admitted, "that I'd be quite happy to share a future with you."

"Foresight and hindsight?" Jaune cocked an eyebrow again.

Weiss was about to speak again, but her thoughts were cut short, however, as a loud voice broke through the building tension.

"Oh, NOW you like him." Nora wasn't impressed.

Weiss jumped.

"Well?" Nora leaned in expectantly, pinching her fingers together and shaking her hand, "Speak-a da Basic! Do you like Jaune-Jaune for Jaune-Jaune, or because you know how sexy he's gonna be when he's your mom's age?"

"A-And- and what if I do?" She tried not to look embarrassed, "I'm grown up enough to admit when I'm wrong. Or- when I have been."

"Ah- excuse me," Willow raised her hand, "I'm not nearly that old."

No one argued that.

Nora put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"Listen, Weissy, if you didn't like his goofball-hero era, then you don't deserve him as a full-blown DILF." She proclaimed, as if it were ancient wisdom, "I don't care if you don't think you're marrying him for the beard or not, ya gots ta earn the rights to it."

"Nora . . ." Jaune couldn't be angry,

"Look, I'mma be honest," Nora said, turning to him, "You know I've always thought you were hot, but if the chips were down and we didn't have Ren, I'd've totally gone out with you."

Everyone stared at Ren, who nodded.

"It was mutual." He said plainly,

". . . Seriously?" Jaune was touched,

"With or without the beard." Nora smiled, "You're still our Jaune."

Behind everyone, Oscar was just confused.

"Wait-wait-wait, I still don't get it." He scratched his head, "What does the beard have to do with it?"

He came from a certain part of Mistral where beards were considered hard on the eyes, especially if they weren't trimmed properly.

Emerald gave him a pitying look and patted his cheek like an over-concerned aunt.

"Eh, I'll tell you about it when you're older, sweetie." She promised.

Oscar blushed. He wasn't sure how to feel about being called 'sweetie' by Emerald of all people.

Jaune, meanwhile, was blushing too and had looked away.

"Daaaaammnn." He fidgeted, "You got me twirlin' my hair and-"

Jaune reached up, and remembered.

"Oh yeah . . ." He wrinkled his forehead, "The haircut."

Everyone laughed again, even Jaune. Looking out at the sea of smiling faces, from friends both old and new, he felt happy for the first time in years.

It was great to be back to his old self again.

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 8 months

Text

Stampede Wolfwood got Metaphorically Isekai'd (No This is Not a Shitpost)

Oh my god if this winds up being part of my legacy I'll probably cry.

So. Everyone who's watched the new show knows that Wolfwood is introduced by getting hit by Meryl's van in the middle of the desert where he is literally the only thing to get hit for miles around. What an entrance. Welcome to the team buddy.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 4. At an above view, the van has spun, unfortunately sending the trailer back part crashing directly into Wolfwood. He is starfished face-first into it, rather comically. End ID.]

It's funny as heck, but, since I am deranged, I'm gonna try and convince you that this is not only an isekai joke, but that the basic premise of an isekai actually applies fairly well to Stampede Wolfwood in the first season... but then a lot of the standard tropes are made into notable and tragic subversions. Also please note I have never actually watched an isekai anime so maybe take all this with a grain of salt. Or several. (Also isekai is a really broad genre. I'm talking specifically about the tropiest things to come out of it - please don't take what I'm about to discuss as representative of the entire genre!)

In the manga, and I believe in the 98 anime as well, Wolfwood is spotted by Vash while him and the insurance girls are travelling on a bus. He is out in the middle of the desert, and so thirsty and exhausted he's initially mistaken for dead. Vash and the girls manage to cause enough of a ruckus that he is literally saved (which echoes the influence they, but especially Vash, will have on him later on), and they all end up on the bus as him and Vash become acquainted - the start of their companionship, and the start of their journey together (being quite literally on a moving vehicle). In the 23 anime, it all seems set up to give us the same intro: there is a vehicle, Wolfwood is clearly exhausted from trekking through the desert, Meryl and Vash are there... and then, suddenly -

[ID: Two screenshots from Trigun Stampede Episode 4. In the first, Wolfwood is walking with Punisher across the sand with a bright blue sky background. He does not see the van coming into sharp focus on a direct path towards him. In the second, Meryl, in the driver's seat, looks out with a shocked expression. Roberto's hand has reached over to grab the wheel. End ID.]

Pfft. Sorry I had to rewatch this to get the screenshots and I swear it does not get any less funny. Anyways, Wolfwood gets hit instead of getting rescued, but the end result is the same - he ends up in the vehicle and his journey with them begins.

So. Why the difference?

Well, I can only really speculate, and honestly it was probably just for the humour of it, but I do have another (deranged) suggestion.

See, Wolfwood in the manga is a little different from Stampede's Wolfwood - he's a lot friendlier for one (though no less trying to scam people), and he's got a little bit more self-made purpose (protecting and providing for the orphanage), even if he still lacks true agency. Stampede Wolfwood, by contrast, is a lot more aimless. He's on constant survival mode, which makes him a lot more openly abrasive right from the get-go, more cavalier about his own life (smokes way more than in the manga, takes bullets when there's actually no reason to), and a lot less in control of his outward persona (there have been many observations I've seen on how he's not the best at holding back his emotions - imo I don't think manga Wolfwood is especially good at that either, but in Stampede, it's really obvious).

Stampede Wolfwood also plays up his "monstrousness" a lot more in front of people, which is probably the most significant difference to me. Manga Wolfwood... doesn't exactly try to hide it, but he tends to take a "well, somebody had to do what needed to get done" attitude, like a kind of tired "I know there's no going back and I know I've turned into a monster. This is all I know how to be now. Somebody has to make the hard calls." But he feels shame about it all the same - look at how he puts his sunglasses on whenever he's about to do something he finds reprehensible (well, except the Ninelives fight... but no one was around to witness him there). It's made pretty explicit later that the glasses are a way for him to say "don't look at me. don't see what I've become".

Meanwhile, Stampede Wolfwood never takes the glasses off. He's much more upfront about the threat he poses - calling out Vash for not watching his back, outright saying he could've shot him - not a smart move when trying to earn someone's trust. His teasing, when he does it, isn't quite as playful, and has a bit of a bite to it. It's almost like he wants to be hated; like he's torn between justifying the necessity of his actions and convincing others that he is just as much of a monster as he feels.

I really think the key differences have a lot to do with their respective situations. Wolfwood in the manga... he got out, for a bit. He couldn't go back to the orphanage, but for at least a little bit, he wasn't under the Eye of Michael's thumb, he did get to meet people outside of missions and travel a bit, and was acting on his own intent... until he ended up pulled back into it because of Knives. Stampede Wolfwood has been under their control since he was taken from the orphanage. Everyone he loves is a hostage. He's taken on the name of his weapon and has known nothing else except this world of darkness - there's very little to imply he's travelled or spoken to anyone without it being for some mission. He's under consistent surveillance.

This "babysitting" mission, then, is something very different from his usual. It's not an assassination. Even more so, it's putting him in close contact with people who are not part of the world that he inhabits, the only one he's known since he was taken, which kickstarts significant changes in his life. You could even say he's been... transported to a different world than the one he'd lived in up to this point...

Enter Truck-kun. Or, rather, Van-kun.

Alright, so what is an isekai? Essentially, it's a wide-ranging genre where the protagonist gets transported or reincarnated to another world (usually regular world -> fantasy/sci-fi world), and typically involves an ordinary person becoming important/powerful in this new world - the genre is, a lot of the time, a mix of power fantasy and wish fulfillment.

Obviously, there is no literal transporting to another world here; it is still very much the same world (I'll bring up why this is important later.) But it's notable that Wolfwood remains very much the outlier in their group - he does not blend in, and his methods and approach are very different to that of the rest, who do not come from the same "world" as him. It's the start of a pretty drastic change in situation for him. It's why I really wish there were more episodes showing his dynamic with the group before it all went to hell - I bet he was so awkward.

The next thing I want to mention is that if you thought I was going to be arguing that there is a standard isekai parallel here... well I lied to you. A lot of the common tropes actually get subverted in kinda heartbreaking ways.

Usually the protagonist of an isekai (not always, but often) is some kind of chosen one. They are able to excel in situations that others cannot, and it's usually because they bring some kind of skill or knowledge from their old life that the people in the new world, obviously, don't. They tend to become ultra powerful, well able to take on any of their challenges in this new world, with advantages others don't have.

This doesn't sound like anything to do with Wolfwood after being hit by Meryl's van. But it sure sounds an awful lot like him after being taken by the Eye of Michael.

He is transferred from his comparatively normal life to one straight out of a sci-fi horror. He's a chosen "Child of Blessing", ranked "S+". He was able to survive grievous harm and experimentation, "excelling" where most other hapless kids did not. What did he bring with him from his old life that none of the people in his new life seem to have that allowed him to survive in the way he did? Well... he had something to protect didn't he? That's how he continues to struggle on. This is far from the sentiment shared by people like Conrad and Legato.

And so Wolfwood becomes ultra powerful - his body is fast, strong and resilient; he's efficient and good at what he's been trained to do. But this is far from anything he wanted. The power fantasy is subverted. Wolfwood is powerful enough to handle pretty much any threat that's thrown at him... but all it does is isolate and alienate him, and make him feel like a monster. Another aspect of isekai is that freedom one gets from being able to start over and become someone closer to their ideal self in a new setting - that's the wish fulfillment part. Well, Wolfwood has never been further from free, or less like the person he wishes to be. He hates everything he has become, but can't get out. Unable to change his situation, and increasingly jaded and disillusioned, Wolfwood takes on the moniker of "Punisher" and gives up on his old self. "Wolfwood" has effectively died.

Other than "transfer" isekai, there is also another kind - the "reincarnation" isekai. I'm not going to even touch bringing up the premise of reincarnation with a guy who carries around a giant cross on his back as I am far from qualified (knowing very little about Christianity at all), but I think it's worth noting that Wolfwood's arc (in all iterations) has much to do with his ever-present conflict with Vash over morality, but also just as much about his struggle to reconcile the person he was with the person he was forced to become, and if there is such a thing as forgiveness or redemption for him.

If "Wolfwood" has died before the story started, then he is "reincarnated" over the course of the story as he slowly starts to find himself again, with the kickstarting impetus being him getting hit by Meryl's van.

The changes don't start instantly. He wakes and things seem relatively normal - the plan is working, there's someone obviously suspicious of him - all stuff he's probably very used to. And then Vash goes and completely blindsides him.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 4. A close up of Vash's face in the dim lighting, with eyes softened and a smile. End ID.]

"I can see it in his eyes."

Okay, so we all kinda giggle a little bit here because who the hell says that to some sketchy guy wearing dark sunglasses in a dark cave-like area when you've only just met, but I really want to stress that this is probably the first truly positive interaction Wolfwood has had in years... and I think Vash is well aware of that.

Wolfwood starts the transition from darkness to light... quite literally.

Almost all of Wolfwood's defining scenes are in the darkness of night, in contrast to the brightly lit desert in the day - think of when he moves away from the fire to speak to Zazie at the end of his intro episode, and assassinates the EoM traitor at the beginning of episode 6. In episode 5, we also get this:

[ID: Two screenshots from Trigun Stampede Episode 5. In the first, Rollo has Vash pinned to a metal wall by his neck. The sun can be seen between the two of them. In the second, Rollo lies dead on the ground. It is now night, and Vash stands over him, head low. Wolfwood stands a distance away. End ID.]

As Vash tries to speak to Rollo, to talk him down, the sun, though setting, is bright and illuminates both their faces. This all comes crashing down, literally, as Wolfwood takes the shot. Rollo falls, the sun stops shining on him, and by the time they all reach his body, night has fallen and the world is in darkness. The light goes out for Rollo... and in Wolfwood's eyes, for him too. He shot out of mercy, after all. He's living a nightmare he sees no escape from nor feels deserving of escaping from - worse, he feels as though he's a part of that darker setting, dragging it into their journey along with him.

However, we've established the lens of the "reincarnation" isekai for the purposes of this analysis, and along with that usually comes a way to compensate or reconcile for missed opportunities or mistakes made in the past by becoming something closer to one's own original ideal - sometimes this can even be a literal starting over, by being reborn into one's own younger self. And that's the importance of what Vash says to Wolfwood in episode 4 - he sees the potential in Wolfwood; the old self he thought had "died" a long time ago. Vash knows he's not the person he's been made to become and encourages him - not to do as Vash does, but to do as Wolfwood actually wants to do but thought for the longest time as hopeless. After all, what is a blank ticket if not a second chance or a new lease on life?

On the sand steamer in episode 6, the scene starts off in daylight once again, but after Wolfwood realizes the new assailant is Livio and we see their backstory, the snap back to the present scene is at night, and the scene darkens as the situation becomes more dire... and as Wolfwood comes to the conclusion that he will have to kill his brother.

But as Zazie's bug, or "eye", gets shot by Vash deflecting what would have been a fatal blow to Livio... suddenly, Wolfwood is free to act without the EoM's ever present surveillance. This is a serious step to severing the binds to that old life, and, as Wolfwood ultimately does not want any harm to come to Livio, he finds another way. And the sky starts to lighten again.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 7. A close up of Livio's face with a distant, pensive expression. A wisp of smoke trails underneath as the pinkish hue of the sunrise is seen in the background. End ID.]

Of course, while this does succeed in waking him, it doesn't actually save him. But it is enough that Wolfwood decides to try letting a little bit of hope back in - to acclimate, even if just a little, to Vash's ideals, or his "world". Wolfwood's wish, to protect the orphanage, is (temporarily) fulfilled - in broad daylight, and without the death he'd been so accustomed to in his old "world". While he outwardly denies it, angrily telling Vash that he is no longer "Wolfwood" and instead merely "the Punisher", that "I'm not like you", the episode's title card, which appears directly after this exchange, does not agree.

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Stampede Episode 7. A black background with white text; the title card for the episode that reads "#07 Wolfwood". End ID.]

He's more himself than he's been in a long time.

In that sense, going back to my insane original premise, we can say that he was isekai'd once by transfer, turning him into someone else... then isekai'd again by reincarnation after he thought his old self dead, helping him to start on the path to finding that younger self and that hope he thought he'd lost. It's a double subversion, in a way, as the first is far from wish fulfillment, and the latter is actually a restoration - a realization that as he slowly starts to transition to the light, he actually never left this world at all when he was changed against his will. He's not a monster of the dark. He still has a place in this lighter world.

Heartwarming, in a way, but also kind of heartbreaking, as if he hasn't truly left this world then there are still consequences.

Wolfwood, after this, still has to complete his contract. He didn't actually get out.

And Vash, for all that he appears to be someone "not like" Wolfwood, is actually far more similar than he'd initially suspected - Vash, too, came from darkness. The Big Fall happened at night. And even as Wolfwood's world grows lighter, Vash's grows ever darker as what he has tried to stave off bleeds into the light, culminating in the events of July, which take place entirely at night, and are truly Vash's darkest hours. Rather than Vash being some naïve creature of a lighter world that Wolfwood cannot reach, he is instead another person from darkness who is struggling for the light all his own.

Because of course, there is no "lighter world" or "darker world". No true "travel" between the two. Just one world that is both at once. And what one finds in it is dependent on what one chooses to read into their circumstances. A kinder, brighter world isn't something they can simply get isekai'd to. It's something these characters have to struggle to make a reality - it's what Vash does, it's what Meryl takes a stand for, it's what Wolfwood, deep down, wants to believe is possible. Hope is something you build yourself, etc.

Anyways, I can't believe I just wrote all that. I think I'm losing my mind. If you came out of this going, "Story, what the hell are you talking about?" then... well. Me too. Thanks for reading anyways!

#storyrambles #this is safe for tristamp only peeps btw i do mention the manga but there's no real spoilers #somebody should probably rescind my analysis certifications #hdfuvhbsd #anyways. wolfwood gets isekai'd is a sentence i never thought i'd read let alone write. multiple times #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective.#trigun #tristamp #trigun analysis #<-god. sure #nicholas d. wolfwood #I SPENT HOURS ON THIS STUPID POST OH MY GOD

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